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Stack
Annex
PC
CONTENTS.
CHAP. I.
The Merovingians and Carlovingians .... Page 1
CHAP. II.
9871226.
From the Accession of Hugh Capet to that of Saint Louis. - - 23
CHAP. III.
12261325.
From the Accession of St. Louis to that of the Race of Valois. - 62
CHAP. IV.
13281461.
From the Acession of Philip of Valois to that of Louis XI. . 91
CHAP. V.
14611515.
From the Accession of Louis XI. to that of Francis I. - - 144
.
CHAP. VI.
15151547.
Francis the First .. . . 192
CHAP. VIJ.
15471559.
Henry the Second - .... 262
VI CONTENTS.
CHAP. VIII.
15591574.
Francis the Second and Charles the Ninth . - 296
CHAP. IX.
15741589.
Henry the Third ..... 328
CHAP. X.
15891610.
Henry the Fourth . . . . - - 343
THE
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
CHAPTER I.
THE MEROVINGIANS AND CAKLOVINGIANS.
GAUL was reduced by Caesar under subjection to the
Romans about fifty years previous to the birth of Christ.
The country remained for the space of five centuries
under their sway, troubled, nevertheless, during the
latter half of the period by the incursions, conflicts, and
finally by the settlement, of barbarian invaders. Under
its first- conquerors Gaul made rapid progress in improve-
ment. It received the advantages of political union, of
an enlightened system of justice, of a long interval of
peace ; and wealth, industry, agriculture, and commerce
soon followed as necessary consequences. The very cli-
mate was wonderfully ameliorated, and the soil rendered
capable of producing and maturing those choice fruits
which the Romans introduced. The vine, the olive, even
the useful plant of flax, were brought thither from the
south. The Christian religion, too, was amongst the
boons, which Rome gave to her subject lands in return
for their political independence : nor can the conquests of
>'hat ambitious city be said to have been, on the whole,
structive of liberty ; since by her were sown these pre-
us seeds of municipal union and rights which were
T altogether stifled, and which sprang, vjp after the
inter of the dark arcs, to offer the earliest bud-
" civilisation, and to bear the first fruits of modern
2 HISTORY OP FRANCE. A. D. 400.
Of the natural and well-known boundaries of the Ro-
man province of Gaul, the Rhine was the most important.
It was the great barrier which defended the empire
from the errant tribes and nations that swarmed beyond.
Wealth and civilisation were on one side of the stream ;
want and barbarism upon the other. Betwixt such
neighbours the natural state is war. The disciplined
legions of Rome, however, quelled the turbulence of
the German tribes, penetrated far and at different in-
tervals into their country, fully avenged one or two
defeats, and long held their rude enemies in salutary
awe.
The Germans, though little versed in policy, began
after some time to perceive that their frequent defeats
were in a great measure owing to their disunion, to their
dispersion in different tribes, and to the want of any
solid or lasting bond of connection, whilst they were op-
posed by the united mind and forces of a large empire.
The mutual leagues hitherto formed amongst the barba-
rians were not sufficiently knit and woven together. The
consciousness of this defect produced in the third cen-
tury those confederacies, in which many tribes united,
not occasionally but lastingly, under one common name,
and often under one monarch or chief. Some assumed
the appellation of Allemanni, or All- Men ; others, the
simpler distinction of Franks, that is, Brave or Free
Men.
The chief seat of the confederacy of the Franks was
that marshy territory, overflowed and divided into islets
by the Rhine, from the spot where the river commences
to turn westward, to its junction with the sea. The first
mention of them by the historians of the empire takes
place A. D. 241. In nearly forty years after, Probus
quelled one of their incursions, and drove them back into
their morasses. The civil war betwixt Magnentius and
Constantius, which occupied and wasted the Roman
forces in mutual slaughter, allowed both Franks and Alle-
manni to establish their desolate rule on the left bank
of the Rhine. The emperor Julian defeated and sub-
A. . 410. GAUL OVER-RUN BY BARBARIANS. 3
dued them, drove the Allemanni within their ancient
bounds, but allowed the Franks to settle permanently
on the Roman side of the Rhine, in the province of
Toxandria, supposed to be the modern Brabant.
The commencement of the fifth century is marked by
the great and victorious irruption of all the barbarian
hosts into Gaul. They poured, like a long pent up and
gathering tide, in a thousand destructive torrents through-
out the land, sweeping away and overwhelming in a
mass, life, property, and institutions. Were it not for
the Christian church, which held itself aloft and alive
above the general inundation, the very memory and pre-
cious traditions of the past would have perished amidst
the universal ruin. Years elapsed, ere the agitation sub-
sided and the inebriety of conquest was over.- When
calm was restored, the Visigoths were in possession of
Aquitaine and the lands southward of the Loire, with
Toulouse for their capital. The Burgundians held the
provinces bordering on the Rhone, from the lake of Ge-
neva to the Mediterranean. Brittany had established a
kind of independence. The Franks, who had looked on
themselves as the allies more than as the enemies of
Roman power, and who had at first bravely stood forth
in its defence, had advanced their establishments over
the present Netherlands to the limits of modern France;
whilst the central provinces, preserved to the empire by
the victories of yEtius, were, like Britain, gradually aban-
doned to themselves, and came to obey, under Roman
forms and titles, the wealthiest and most powerful of the
native provincials. It was thus that count uEgidius, and
after him his son Syagrius, governed, and were even said
to have reigned at Soissons.
It is singular to observe that, of all the nations which
over-ran Gaul, that which eventually subdued the rest,
and gave its name both to the land and to the general
race, was the least united, and the least advanced in
the arts of life and policy. Both the Goths and the
Burgundians were more civilised than the Franks. Each
of the former was a nation, forming one race, and obey-
* 2
4 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 485.
ing one monarch and family of monarchs. The Franks,
on the contrary, were but a looser kind of confederacy,
which held together still less as they advanced from the
Rhine. Each town or territory had its petty and inde-
pendent sovereign ; and previous to Clovis, we meet
with no sign of supreme chief or capital town amongst
them. This, no doubt, was advantageous to them. They
were thus more free to emigrate and to invade. It left
the throne of chieftaincy open to the first leader of pre-
eminent talents ; whilst the vagueness and comprehen-
siveness of their name was calculated to congregate and
admit beneath their banner any roving bands, or even
whole nations, of barbarians that might be in search of
plunder or establishments.
Such is the secret of the rise of Clovis, the founder of
the French monarchy. He was the young chief or king
of a small colony of the Franks established at Tournay.
In conjunction with the Frank chief of Cambray, he
attacked Syagrius, the provincial governor of the Sois-
sonnois, defeated him, and took possession of his territory
and capital. (A. D. 485.) It was on this occasion the cir-
cumstance took place, so often narrated and alluded to as a
proof of the piety of the king, and the independent habits
of the barbarians. A silver vase, reserved for sacred uses,
had been taken, amidst other plunder, from the church
of Rheims. It was at Soissons that the distribution of
booty was to take place. Thither came Saint Remy,
bishop of Rheims, supplicating for the restoration of the
silver vase. Clovis was favourable to the bishop's request,
and sought to gratify it. He addressed his assembled
soldiers, and begged of them, in addition to his share,
to grant him the vase in question. Ere the assembly
could answer, a cholerous soldier, jealous of his rights,
struck the vase with his axe, exclaiming that the king
had no right to more than fell to his allotment. Despite
the rudeness of the act, it was still consonant to the
habits and laws of the free barbarians. Clovis was
obliged to dissemble his resentment, and defer his venge-
ance. It was not until several months after, that, at a
496. CLOVIS. 5
review, he took an opportunity to find fault with the
breaker of the vase for the bad condition of his arms.
Clovis flung the soldier's axe to the ground, and whilst
the latter stooped to pick up the weapon, the monarch
slew him with a blow of his own, exclaiming, " Thus
didst thou serve the vase of Soissons ! "
Clovis, like all the heroes and eminent men of those
ages, paid great respect to the church, and received con-
siderable advantage from its aid. The Franks had been
hitherto heathens; but Clovis, having married Clotilda,
a Burgundian princess, became instructed in the rites
and religion of the Christians. In the heat of a battle
against the Germans in the neighbourhood of Cologne,
Clovis recalled the example of Constantine, who in a
doubtful moment of action invoked the God of the Chris-
tians, and was heard. The king of the Franks imitated
the example of the Roman, prayed for victory to the
God of Clotilda and of Constantine, won it soon after,
and was baptized, with the greater number of his
followers, in grateful acknowledgment of the divine
aid. Clovis had the good fortune to imbibe Christianity
at its pure source. The Visigoth and Burgundian
monarchs, though Christian, were Arians at this time.
Clovis received the orthodox faith, which brought to him
the zealous support of the Gaulish clergy, and gave to
him the title of Most Christian King, worn by his suc-
cessors to the present day.
The comparison between Clovis and Constantine might
be followed farther. Their embracing of Christianity
had a similar effect upon both. Instead of tempering
their passions, and inspiring them with the virtues of
mildness and mercy, it seems to have rather given rein
to their ferocity and blood- thirstiness. The domestic
murders committed by Constantine, that of his wife, and
of his son, are known. To assassination Clovis united
perfidy. All the rival monarchs or chieftains whom he
could conquer or entrap were sacrificed to his jealousy
and ambition. The whole race of a rival family was
extirpated, in some instances, by the hand of Clovis him-
B 3
6 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 511.
self. How could Christianity be made conducive to such
crimes ? By being coupled with the corrupt doctrine of
personal confession and absolution, which, by superseding
the voice of conscience, took away all natural obstacles
to crime, and held forth, in a barbarous age, the certain
prospect of impunity.
Although Clovis won a great battle over the Visigoths
in Aquitaine, and obtained a nominal dominion over a
portion of that province, nevertheless, his kingdom can-
not be said to have really extended beyond the Loire.
His system, though favourable to conquest, was by no
means so to extended sway. Whilst the Gothic and
Burgundian chiefs dispersed, and settled on the soil, a
considerable portion of which they forced from the na-
tive proprietor, the Franks remained in a warlike body,
a kind of standing army, about their king. Even if
they did scatter and divide, for the greater convenience
of pasturage and provision, into winter quarters, in spring
they never failed to re-assemble in their Champ de Mars;
\ a kind of half parliament, half review, at first use<l for
I discussing and arranging plans of conquest. But in time,
I as the inferior order of warriors ceased to attend and the
\ prelates appeared there in greater numbers and influence,
the national assembly gradually came to exercise judicial
and legislative functions, to elect sovereigns and officers,
and to sanction laws.
Clovis reigned until the year 511. He had first
fixed his residence at Soissons, and was crowned in the
cathedral of Rheims. About the middle of his reign he
transferred the seat of sovereignty to Paris. Its central
situation and security, owing to its being surrounded by
the Seine, proved the wisdom of the choice. Clovis
ended his days in his new capital, and was buried in the
church of St. Genevieve, its patron saint, so honoured
for having defended it successfully by her prayers
against the menaces of Attila.
The descendants of Clovis, or the Merovingians, as
they are called from Merovee their supposed founder,
reigned over the Franks for nearly two centuries and
600. SUCCESSORS OF CLOVIS. 7
a half. That long period occupies but a brief space in
history : its annals offer but a succession of barbarism
and crime. From Clovis to Charles Martel, the grand-
father of Charlemagne, there existed not a personage
worthy of the reader's attention or memory; there is not
recorded an event or anecdote which could excite any
feeling save disgust.
Nevertheless, if we were to esteem a nation by its
conquests and extent, the empire of the Franks would
command our highest consideration. The sons of
Clovis subdued Burgundy and Aquitaine, and extended
their dominions, with the exception of a small province
round Narbonne retained by the Visigoths, to the
Pyrenees and the Mediterranean in the south, whilst
Switzerland, Bavaria, Saxony, and the German nations
as far as the Baltic and the Elbe, acknowledged their
authority towards the north. This large empire divided
itself naturally into two great portions; Austrasia to the
east, Neustria to the west : the former clinging to Ger-
man habits, language, and independence; the latter, adopt-
ing the tongue and manners of the Romanized Gauls,
made great advances in civilisation, whilst it at the same
time retrograded, and fell behind its Austrasian neigh-
bour in martial spirit, and consequently in political
influence and power. The wars, which never ceased to
harass France during the reigns of the Merovingians,
were kept up principally by the rivalry betwixt these
two portions of the empire. In the struggle which
preceded and produced the establishment of the race
of Charlemagne, the Latin or western portion of
France may be considered to have been reconquered
by the Germans or Austrasians; and thus a fresh in-
fusion of the ruder spirit of the Transrhenane race
came to invigorate the already degenerated Franks of
Gaul.
The race of Clovis became effete from gross licen-
tiousness, and was thinned by mutual slaughter. As is
the case with the Turks of the present day, the first act
of a monarch was to put to death his brothers, uncles,
B 4s
8 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 752.
and nephews. Consanguinity, instead of being a bond
of attachment, was the cause of a deadly and always
fatal enmity. Such a succession of murders naturally
produced the reigns of kings under age. Monarchs or
monarchs' sons could not long escape the sword of the
assassin : whilst to intrust an infant king to the care of one
of his own race, or of royal blood, even if such survived,
was to deliver him to certain destruction. Hence came
the necessity of electing regents amongst the Frank
chiefs. The office fell to the only magistrate or mini-
ster existing in that rude state of society. This was the
mord-dom, or major domus, as it is rendered in Latin,
who was at once a royal judge and a kind of steward of
the household. At one time appointed by the king, at
another chosen by the aristocracy, the major domus, or
mayor of the palace, soon became more formidable than
the monarch himself. And when, during a long minority,
he had legally exercised the royal functions, the mayor
found it not difficult to prolong his power by reducing
his ward and sovereign to imbecility, through physical
indulgence and the absence of education, as well as by
other obvious arts calculated to strengthen his own per-
sonal influence. The family of Pepin succeeded in
rendering the office hereditary in their race, and long
wielded the power, without assuming the name and
honours, of royalty. These belonged to the race chevelue,
the long-haired race, as the descendants of Clovis were
called, from the custom of never cutting the locks of the
young princes. In the year 752, Pepin at length threw
off the mask, dethroned Childeric III., the roi faineant
or mock king of the moment, and the last of the Mero-
vingians, and caused himself to be crowned in the pre-
sence of the assembled nation. As his right, Pepin
pleaded the long possession of all the realities of regal
power in his family : to this he added the free election
of his countrymen ; but, above all, he relied upon a bull
issued by pope Zachary, which declared him the legiti-
mate monarch of the Franks. It was upon this occasion
that the popes first assumed that usurped right, which
752. PEPIX. 9
they afterwards so used and abused, of throning and de-
throning kings.
Previous to entering upon the reign of Charlemagne,
that great epoch from whence modern history dates, it
is advisable to take a brief view of that new state of
society, then in its infant growth, which, in the prodi-
gious development that ourselves and our fathers have
witnessed, so differed from, and so surpassed, that of all
preceding ages. We shall thus afford the reader a
clew which may guide him through the perplexed mazes
of fact and event give him a scale by which he can
mark the progress of society and make him acquainted
with those hidden springs of action, which can be ob-
served in masses of men as well as in individuals.
Four chief powers will be found, on examination, to
influence and divide political society, thejdngjy^ the
sacerdotal, the aristocratic, and the democratic. The
necessary limits~oT this worlc will not allow space to prove
\ the justice and accuracy of this division, or to explain the
\ foundation of its principles in human nature. In the re-
cords of antiquity we can never find the example of a state
in which these powers were all and separately developed.
In very remote times, the regal and sacerdotal jpowers
were most generally united, or subject one to the other ;
!"^uhited, as in the race of the caliphs; royalty subject to
the priesthood, as in ancient Egypt, and vice versa, as
many examples show. In the oriental monarchies, of
1 :ancient as of modern times, democracy is of course null ;
; ; aristocracy, deprived of hereditary rights, but an ephe-
meral and insecure distinction.
In the republics of Greece and Rome society took
V another course. Royalty was abolished; the sacerdotal
^ power was united and rendered subservient to the pa-
trician ; the democratic itself was much less in action
than we are given to suppose. In the palmy days of the
Roman and Athenian republics, when the lands of Italy
and Attica were cultivated, and almost solely inhabited
by slaves, the free and privileged citizens of the common-
10 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 752.
wealth can scarcely be regarded in any other light than
in that of a dominant and cruel aristocracy. Their
poverty, their moblike character and attributes, cannot
save them from the odious appellation.
In Europe, and in modern times alone, were the four
principles fully and separately developed, and the classes
which they respectively animate raised into independent
existence. From the balance of power kept up between
these, their mutual jealousies, alliances, collisions, have
principally arisen the superior civilisation and policy of
Europe. Such is the great characteristic that distin-
guishes modern from ancient society. It is the great
fact to be borne in mind the great key for solving many
a political problem.
If it be asked, why these natural principles of social
amelioration lay, some of them at least, dormant in
ancient, whilst they were completely developed only in
modern times ; the answer is, there was one great cause
producing, but many minor ones aiding. The new
world certainly profited by the example of the old. Tra-
ditions of liberty, of law, and of social order, floated
down from the wreck of Roman greatness to dark
and barbarous times, when they were gathered, and
helped to build up the fabric of a new state. From the
forests of Germany, too, and the savage life of hunter
and pastor, the invading tribes themselves brought the
germs of more political wisdom than could have been
hoped for, those of monarchy without despotism, of
allegiance without the sacrifice of personal independ-
ence. But the great and leading cause, which an-
tiquity may be said to have wanted altogether, was
Christianity.
No doubt the Christian religion, having man for its
agent, has been accompanied by many evils, and has
been perverted to grievous abuses ; but the observer of
history, amidst the many crimes and ills which he will
have to lay to the charge of some of the agents in its
promotion, cannot avoid at the same time confessing
768. EFFECTS OF CHRISTIANITY. 11
that, even when so perverted, it still was productive of
inestimable and often unperceived good ; and that to it
principally, above all other causes, is owing the superior
state of modern morals, liberty, and civilisation. This
is an assertion of which the proofs must be sought in the
ensuing pages. But we may anticipate so far as to observe,
that had Christianity done no more than to war with
polygamy and slavery, as it did, to the abolition of both,
it would fully deserve the praise here bestowed. Nothing
contributed so much to change the face of Europe, and
to bestow upon it its present benign and happy aspect,
as the raising of one half of mankind to their natural
equality and rights, and by the same act rescuing the
other from the inhumanity and barbarism ever charac-
terising the despotic masters of their fellow-men. The
abolition of slavery, without effecting which it would
have been idle preaching against polygamy, instantly
raised woman in the scale of being. From this alone^
sprung all the virtues of chivalry, whilst those of pri-
vate and domestic life were created anew. It was then
that a brighter charm spread around the hearth, that
a genius came to preside over it, as far superior to the
dumb, dull lares of antiquity, as the worship of the
invisible God was to their pagan sacrifices.
We have seen what great use both Pepin and Clovis
Biade of the church in establishing their power. It was
the church alone that could then enable royalty to lift
itself on the shoulders of the aristocracy. Charles, sur-
named the Great, and better known under the appella-
tion of Charlemagne, succeeded to his father Pepin in
"the year 768, at first conjointly with his brother Carlo-
man, whose death, which took place soon after, left the
elder brother sole monarch of the Franks. The first act
of Charles showed the warrior eager for conquest. He
raised an army, and advanced with it beyond the Loire.
For centuries barbarism had been continually making
war upon civilisation, conquering, destroying, or blend-
ing with it. The contest was not yet over, the amalgam-
12 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 770."
ation not perfect. The rude Austrasians of the Rhine had
lately subdued the more polite Neustrians of the banks of
the Seine. But Aquitaine and the southern provinces
were, with respect to Neustria, what Neustria had been
to Austrasia, far more civilised and Latinised ; and the
hate on one side equalled the desire of conquest and
domination on the other. Pepin .had vanquished the
Aquitanians. Upon his death they rebelled, rallying
round one of the family of their ancient dukes. But the
courage of the southerns failed before the approach of
Charles and his northern army ; their troops dispersed,
and their chief remained a prisoner. Charles, ere he
retired, built the strong castle of Fronsac, on the banks of
the Dordogne, and garrisoned it, to keep the malcontent
province in subjection. The Franks had hitherto a
hatred of towns, and a contempt of fortifications. This
is the first instance amongst them of dominating a
country by means of a fortress, and marks how advanced
were the views of Charles beyond those of his time.
Charlemagne's next enemies were the Saxons the most
formidable and obstinate that he encountered during his
reign. For the present, however, after a successful
campaign in their wild country, his attention was called
away towards Italy, where his conquests and alliances
produced events as important in their consequences, per-
haps, as any to be found in modern history.
If we contemplate the church from the fall of the Ro-
man empire, we shall perceive that in the dark ages its
struggle was unceasingly for dominion, authority, and
wealth. Unable, perhaps, to make the barbarians feel
the superiority of their sacred character, of their creed,
and the morals that they taught by eloquence or argu-
ment alone, the priesthood felt it requisite to gain
temporal power, in order that their spiritual influence
might be greater and more salutary. Some wealth was
certainly necessary for them, as was some power. But
this portion proved but a bait for the avarice and violence
of the barbarians, and could only be rendered secure by
77*. CHARLEMAGNE. 15
its being rendered equal or superior to that possessed by
the lay aristocracy.
As Rome was considered superior to all western cities,
so was its bishop placed above other bishops. An im-
perial edict sanctioned this supremacy, which the
Romanists vainly seek to found upon the text of the
Gospel. Like other prelates, the pope endeavoured to
support his spiritual authority by temporal power; but
whilst their position allowed them only to acquire ter-
ritorial wealth and judicial independence, he aimed at
sovereignty. When the head of the empire abandoned
or was driven from the dominion which he exercised
over Rome, as over other cities, the bishops, from the
absence of other magistrates, and the total ruin of
respectable families, laid hold of the authority thus
abdicated, and ruled as delegates or inheritors of the
imperial rights. Such was the claim put forth by the
early popes. They aimed at sovereignty not only in
Rome, but in the Imperial province or Exarchate, as the
territory attached to Ravenna was called. The Lom-
bard kings, however, sternly resisted these claims ; and
themselves, or their vassals, the dukes of Nepi or Spo-
leto, were in the habit of plundering, enslaving, of
making or unmaking pontiffs, according as their interest
prompted, or the fortune of war allowed.
In vain did the popes, with all their sacred cha-
racter, struggle against the power of the sword.
When Pepin, however, thought fit to apply to Rome
for a title to his crown, the prospect of gaining so
powerful an ally was eagerly laid hold on. Every wish
of Pepin was granted, and in return his aid was ought-
against the Lombards. The grateful monarch led an
army into Italy, and obliged Astolphus, their king, to
yield up not only the territory round Rome, but the
Exarchate, to the._pope. We may suppose how reluc-
tantly and imperfectly these stipulations were performed,
especially after the departure of Pepin, who never after-
wards found leisure to turn again his attention or arms
towards Italy.
14 HISTORY OP PRANCE. 774.
After the death of Pepin, the solicitations of the
pope were renewed to his son, whose youthful ambition
and piety were soon inflamed. Charles summoned his
captains to meet him in the spring at Geneva. Under
the Merovingians, these assemblies were the Champs de
Mars, March being the month of meeting. But as the
Franks, from serving on foot, became cavaliers under
the second race, the time was changed to May, for the
sake of forage, and the assemblies were called Champs
de MaL From Geneva, Charlemagne passed the Alps,
routing the Lombards, who opposed his passage. Their
king, Desiderius, did not dare to meet the German
monarch in the open field, but shut himself up in his
capital, Pa via. The Franks invested it; but, unskilled
in the art of attacking fortified places, they contented
themselves with a strict blockade. Whilst it lasted,
Charles advanced to visit the ancient seat of empire.
He was received by pope Adrian with such honours as
were paid to the Patrician or viceroy of the emperors.
Every homage and attention were lavished, and Charles
gratefully confirmed the gifts of Pepih to the church,.
gifts, however, which he considered more in the light
of a fief or benefice than as an absolute cession. He
then returned to Pavia, which surrendered, together
with its king. Thus ended the kingdom of the Lom-
bards, and Italy became a province of the empire of the
Franks.
No sooner was Italy conquered, than we find Charle-
magne engaged with the Saxons, routing and slaughter-
ing their armies, over-running their country, and sum-
moning his warriors to the Champ de Mai at Paderborn,
and other remote places far within the German borders.
Some historians consider this inveterate thirty years' war,
which Charlemagne carried on against the Saxons, as
proceeding from his hatred of barbarism, and his ardent
desire to extend the pale of civilisation. But this is
too advanced and statesman-like an idea for the age.
It seems to have been more from a wish to propagate
Christianity that Charles wielded his sword so ruthlessly
784. CHARLEMAGNE. 15
against the Saxons. The exploits and example of the
Saracens had a great influence over him ; and his wish
to rival them is far more manifest in his acts and cha-
racter than has been noticed.
It was long since the Saracens had completed the
conquest of Spain, extended their dominions beyond the
Pyrenees, and menaced even the empire of the Franks.
Charles Martel, the grandfather of Charlemagne, in a
bloody victory gained over them near Poitiers, put a
final check to the advance of the Saracens in that
direction, and introduced the rival nations to the dread
and esteem of each other. In that campaign, the Franks
; suffered greatly from the light horsemen of the Arabs;
and it is very probable that the circumstance led them
to adopt the mode of fighting on horseback, which soon
{after became general, and laid an essential foundation
I of the chevaleresque spirit.
The love of letters, and of those who cultivated them,
with the ambition of founding learned institutions, was
another trait of Charlemagne's character, caught in part,
though not exclusively, from the Saracens. And his
system of propagating Christianity by the sword, such
as he practised against the Saxons, may be regarded as
another principle of conduct and of glory imitated from
the warlike votaries of the caliphs.
The same motive would induce him still more, no
doubt, to direct his arms against the Saracens them-
selves. Such an expedition he did undertake. In 778,
he passed the Pyrenees, took and dismantled the towns
of Pampluna and Saragossa, and compelled all the Arab
princes of the region to swear fealty to him. On his
return across the Pyrenees, nevertheless, they prepared
an ambuscade. The Basques and Gascons, more hostile
to the Franks than to the Saracens, joined their aid to
the latter; and the united forces awaited Charlemagne
and his victorious army as they traversed the valley of
Roncesvaux. There never was a combat of which his-
tory has given so few details, and fable and poesy so
many, as that of Roncesvaux. It appears that the
16 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 784-.
rearguard of Charlemagne was attacked and cut off.
With it perished some of his bravest captains, or, as
the romancers afterwards called them, his paladins.
Amongst them was his nephew, the famous Roland,
the hero of Ariosto, precisely chronicled by Eginhard,
as prefect of the frontiers of Brittany. The bad success
of this expedition inspired Charlemagne with a disgust
of warring against the Saracens. Their frontier was
far from Charles's Austrasian province on the Rhine,
which furnished his best and most attached soldiers,
whilst he could expect nothing save disaffection and trea-
chery from his subjects of Aquitaine.
The land of the Saxons bordered, on the contrary,
upon his native dominions, and was not far from his
chosen capital, Aix-la-Chapelle. This it behoved him
to make the centre of his monarchy, and to repel from
it by force of arms the dangerous vicinity of pagans and
barbarians. Charlemagne had already led two expe-
ditions against them. In the first, he had overthrown
their great idol, and ruined his temple. In the next,
he established fortresses and garrisons, compelling the
people to be baptized, and to swear fealty to him. The
Saxons, however, were not to be quelled by the same
"facile means as the civilised citizens of Gaul. Again
and again they rose in insurrection, headed by Witikind,
a hero worthy of being the rival of Charlemagne. As
long as Witikind found the spirit of independence alive
amongst the Saxons, or as often as he could awake it,
he led them against the Franks ; and when his van-
quished countrymen submitted to the conqueror, he alone
disdained to stoop, and fled across the Baltic, from
whence he returned more than once to excite the
Saxons against Charlemagne. The monarch of the
Franks vowed to extirpate the stubborn pagans alto-
gether, and for many successive years he wasted their
country, that is, its population and cattle, with fire and
sword. Even the proud spirit of Witikind was forced
to bow before the conqueror ; the Saxon hero appeared
at the Champ de Mai, and vowed obedience to Charles.
800 CONQUEST OP THB SAXONS. 17
The latter, however, could not trust the Saxons. He
transported immense numbers of them from the banks
of the Elbe to the interior of his dominions, and at the
same time divided their country into benefices, which he
distributed to his prelates, that the remnant of the
Saxons might become Christian as well as subject.
This is a fit place to mark an important point in
Charlemagne's policy. As he conquered himself the
greater part of his empire, he had to appoint the rulers
or lords of provinces and districts; in other words,
counts and dukes. He dreaded the aristocracy, which
had raised his family on the ruins of the Merovingians ;
and his object was to prevent the great charges of the
empire, and the governments of provinces, from be-
coming hereditary. He wanted to form a monarchy on
the oriental plan, in which the nobles, enjoying privileges
attached to their persons, not to their race, were unable
to perpetuate and consolidate their power. This plan,
obviously tending to despotism, was fortunately frus-
trated. Charlemagne's views in this respect led him
to lean so much to the church, and to prefer bestowing
territorial commands upon prelates rather than upon
lay nobles. And the same principle governed both him
and Pepin in their Hmaccountable generosity to the pope
of Rome.
The year 800 is the date of a ceremony which,
though but a ceremony, and produced in a great mea-
sure by accident, has had more influence upon the state
of Europe than all the victories of the century. A
conspiracy broke out in Rome against pope Leo III. :
he was taken prisoner, maltreated, but contrived to
escape. He fled for protection to Charlemagne ; and
that monarch, receiving the fugitive with his wonted
piety, led him back to Rome at the head of an army,
reinstated him, and took vengeance upon his enemies.
It was on the following Christmas that Charles, accom-
panied by his court and an immense assemblage, heard
mass performed by Leo in the church of St. Peter's. At
its conclusion, the pope advanced in procession towards
VOL. i. c
18 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 814.
the monarch, placed on his head a crown of gold, and
saluted him by the titles of Emperor and Augustus.
Thus was the empire of the west restored in the person
of Charlemagne. The Frank was seated on the throne
of the Caesar. Nor was the ceremony, as we might
deem it, an idle pomp; it gave rights and dignity and
power. Precedent and authority were the only logic of
the age ; and the magic of a name, not without influence
in this day, was all-powerful in that. No very con-
siderable event afterwards occurred to mark the declin-
ing years of Charlemagne. He died in 814, at Aix-la-
Chapelle, and was buried in the famous Munster or
cathedral which he had founded.
Charlemagne was a man of extraordinary mind and
powers. To the characteristics of a hero and a con-
queror, he united those of a monarch and legislator.
In an age when the monastic virtues had superseded all
others, he alone made those of the statesman temper
them ; and though so devoid of early education as to be
unable to write, he supplied the defect by study through-
out the whole course of his busy reign, and became a
judge and a patron of letters at a time when the taste
seemed utterly extinct save in him. Three hundred
years were yet to elapse ere chivalr^ was to flourish,
and yet Charlemagne anticipated its spirit ; and the
romancers of after time had recourse to him and to his
paladins as the fittest models of knightly conduct and
chivalrous valour.
The descendants of Charlemagne shall here be treated
with as little notice as those of Clovis. Both degene-
rated, and were trampled under foot by the aristocracy.
But the changes which the nation underwent during the
reign of the Carlovingians are far better known, and far
more important. There is this peculiar character in their
history; that personages and incidents, with one excep-
tion, that of Hollo and the cession of Normandy, are
utterly unattractive, whilst the silent progress of society
offers a picture full of interest. We can afford to take
but a cursory glance at the latter.
841. SUCCESSORS OP CHARLEMAGNE. 19
There is no political truth more fully known and
admitted, than that slaves and freemen cannot continue
long to form together the labouring class of the com-
munity. Universally, in a generation or two, the free-
men disappear ; the slaves alone remain upon the soil.
Such was the case under the successors of Clovis. The
conquests of Charlemagne spread a new race of freemen
over the face of Gaul : under his successors they gra-
dually disappeared. Compelled to join the army at
their own expense, unprotected from violence, as slaves
were, by a powerful master, and disdaining those agri-
cultural occupations practised by bondsmen, the freeman
soon abandoned his little property, or saw it wrested
from him by force. Most generally he perished, or
perhaps was sold to pay off the weight of fines which
his poverty forced him to incur.
Of the class of freemen the armies of Charlemagne
were composed. There remained still sufficient to carry
on the civil wars betwixt his grandchildren : between
them the battle of Fontenay was fought in 841, in which
forty thousand men are said to have perished ; and all
the historians of the time agree that the whole force of
France perished with them. Henceforward the Nor-
mans and Saracens^ met nowhere with resistance, and
the entire kingdom was exposed defenceless to pillage.
How was this ? The surviving population, excepting
the class of prelates and nobles, were serfs and villains,
and consequently forbidden and unused to bear arms.
The state was without a defender, the melancholy and
inevitable consequence of slavery.
The lesser aristocracy also had greatly decayed. The
equal division of property amongst brethren provetLaearly
as destructive to the noble as to the monarch. In the
mifl{ne~"of the ninth century, the church stood alone
unimpaired, and seemed at once to be possessed of all
property as of all power. The kings, however, inhe-
rited the right, tenaciously held and exercised by Charle-
magne, of appointing the superior governors, or dukes
and counts of provinces. In the reigns of his weak
c 2
20 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 850.
successors, and principally in that of Charles the Bald,
his grandson, the sovereign, in order to gain the support
of the leading nobles against his competitors, found it
necessary to abandon to them their commands, with
hereditary rights thereto. Here the system of Charle-
magne, and of the old and oriental monarchies, was
departed from, and an hereditary aristocracy formed,
possessed, each in his county, of all the attributes of
sovereignty, and wanting nothing but the name.
Previously to this, the proprietors of the provinces
held their lands of the monarch, and professed allegiance
exclusively to him ; but now, the dukes and counts
came to stand in the royal place. Finding a great por-
tion of the lands destitute of cultivators, owing to the
devastations of the Normans, they distributed them to
their followers, demanding in return personal allegiance
to themselves rather than to the common sovereign.
Thus were formed the sub-infeodations, the essential
principle of the new political state, the fibre, as we
may say, which soon grew forth into the vast body of
the feudal system.
The feeble characters of the Carlovingian monarchs,
together with those frequent partitions and exchanges
of territory amongst them, which prevented any power
from being consolidated in their hands, or any feeling
of loyalty from taking root in the bosoms of the people,
was the chief cause of their fall, and of the weakness
which abandoned their rights to the possessors of the
great fiefs. The frequent invasions of the Normans
contributed powerfully, however, towards the same
effect.
Almost from the reign of the Antonines to that of
Charlemagne, the current of barbaric conquest had con-
tinued to overflow the Danube and the Rlu'ne. The
great effort of this hero's life was to check its torrent;
and he succeeded. For the first time the northern
nations became inspired with a dread of the south, and
despaired to force their way, by land at least, into the
fertile regions where their ancestors had emigrated.
911 ROLLO INVADES FRANCE. 21
The tide, excluded from its ancient channels, opened
new outlets for itself. Denmark andScandinayia haf}
been long accustomed to fear a surplusTpopulation, and
^^taM^ Mw d0*^MM^ MI HMMMM^M^ MBVMM ^ H ^MWMMHWM^MMd^HMM58MV *
to eject it upon foreign climes. The way by land was
nov,- closed ; the more perilous path of sea lay open, and
the barbarians took to it in their rude galleys, every
reader of English history knows with what success.
Even Charlemagne had the mortification, towards the
close of his reign, to hear that two hundred of their
vessels had landed their crews on the coast of Friesland,
that the province had been ravaged, and the marauders
re-embarked ere an army could be mustered to repel or
revenge the insult. Under his successors, the Danes or
Normans met of course with more success and more
impunity. They sailed up the mouths of all the navi-
gable rivers, the Rhine, the Seine, the Loire, burning
and pillaging all the great towns, laying waste the pro-
vinces, and dragging the population along with them.
They met with no resistance. The reason has been i
previously stated. The inhabitants of the country were j t
almost all reduced to the servile state, were denied, and ,
jgnacaat,o the use of arms.
The absolute*~necessity of resisting these invaders,
which the monarch was never equal to, excited at length
the efforts and talents of the nobles. They exercised
themselves to arms, fortified their dwellings, and made
strongholds of them. They converted their serfs into
soldiers ; gave them land, with a partial property or
durable tenure of it, that they might be more attached
to their chiefs, and more interested to defend them.
Feudality, in fine, arose ; and, it is to be remarked,
principally in the exposed and invaded provinces. All
these foundations of it were laid before the conclusion
of the ninth century. In the tenth they became conso-
lidated.
In the year 91 1* when Charles the Simple, whose
name bespeaks his character, reigned in France, the
celebrated Rolf, or Rollo, sailed up the Seine with
a numerous navy of Danes or Normans, with the usual
c 3
22 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 91 1.
purpose of pillaging and levying contributions. He
besieged Paris and Chartres : the word marks the pro-
gress that fortifications, and, what is more important,
the defence of them, had made ; for formerly the Danes
penetrated into every town without resistance. He
ravaged even the distant province of Burgundy. Whilst
king Charles the Simple sent an archbishop to offer
Rollo an entire province of his dominions as the price
of peace, Robert, Count of Paris, the ancestor of Hugh
Capet and of the present dynasty of France, assembled
an army, and attacked the Norman near Chartres. If
Rollo gained the victory, it was dearly purchased ; and
the circumstance rendered him more inclined to accept
the offer of Charles the Simple. He was to possess
Normandy as its hereditary duke, swearing allegiance to
Charles, and suffering himself to be baptized, with his
whole army. After three months' negotiation, Charles
and Rollo met upon the banks of the river Epte, the
boundary of the future duchy, and the treaty was con-
cluded; the French monarch at the same time giving his
daughter Gisele in marriage to the Norman duke. The
ceremony of swearing allegiance was found to be the
only difficulty, Rollo declaring that he would never bow
the knee to mortal. One of his followers was ordered,
by way of compromise, to perform the humiliating act.
The surly Norman obeyed reluctantly ; and in the act of
raising the monarch's foot to his mouth, lifted it so
rudely and so high as to upset the new liege lord of his
master. The Normans on the occasion could not refrain
from loud laughter. The French dissembled, passed
over the insult, and the treaty was not interrupted.
Rollo divided the lands of Normandy amongst his
principal followers, and demanded of them an oath of
.service and allegiance similar to that which Charles had
sought of him. These again imitated their chief with
respect to their inferiors. Duke Rollo had for advisers
the French bishops, whom he had established in his
dominions; and they instructed him in all the laws and
habits then prevalent in France, which they were natu-
911. DIVISION OP THE EMPIRE. 23
rally anxious that he should adopt, in preference to the
rude and pagan manners of his native land. In the
formation of a new state of society, as in that of a new
city, order and system could more easily be introduced
and observed; and the people, who last received the
principles of feudality, first brought them to that regu-
larity and perfection, unknown as yet, and afterwards
imitated, throughout the rest of France. Thus, as the
ravages of the Danish marauders aided most materially in
laying the foundations of the feudal system, so their final
settlement served to complete and crown the edifice.
CHAP. II.
FROM THE ACCESSION OF HUGH CAPET TO THAT OF
SAINT LOUIS, 987 1226.
THE reign of Charlemagne resembles the course of a
meteor, which sheds a brilliant light around the heavens
for a space, but leaves the darkness still more dreary_as
it disappears. Despite the place aricPranF "which it
assumes, it is a stranger to the great system athwart
which lies its track, and whose progress it may be said
more to disturb than promote. Soon after the death of
Charlemagne, his large empire fell asunder by its own
weight. The mutual antipathies of different and neigh-
bouring races seconded the rivalry of the Carlovingian
princes. The great division was into the German and
the French : the first knit together by their old Teutonic
tongue ; the latter nurtured in the mixed language of
a race descended from Gaul, Roman, and Barbarian
blended. The Meuse, the Saone, and the Rhone, formed
the line of demarcation betwixt them. The elder branch
of Charlemagne's descendants chose the country east of
this, and brought to it the title of Emperor, with all the
vague prerogatives attached to the name. The Carlo-
vingians lost the throne of Germany, even ere they were
driven from that of France. The Germanic habit of
c 4
24- HISTORY OF FRANCE. Q12 18.
holding diets and national assemblies was preserved to
the east of the Rhine, whilst it fell into disuse in the
west. And there, in consequence, the aristocracy ac-
quired a more united and organised system of supe-
riority, and succeeded not only in rendering their own
rights hereditary, but also in making the monarchy
elective. A duke of Franconia, a duke of Saxony, were
raised successively to the imperial throne ; and their
example emboldened the family of Hugh Capet to usurp
the place of the dwindled Carlovingians of France.
In the reign of Charles the Bald a kind of union was
effected, under his sway, of all the countries west of the
Meuse and the Rhone. They composed a heterogeneous
mass. The link of even a common name applied to the
land was wanting. Not only the Carlovingian monarchs,
but the Capetians themselves, were long styled kings,
not of France, but of the Franks. This circumscribed
and ill-united realm it was beyond their power to keep
together in obedience to them. A territorial aristo-
cracy had every where arisen, by their very nature inde-
pendent. Of the great connecting principles of society,
neither commerce, nor letters, nor arms, flourished in
force sufficient to create general sympathies or interests.
Each baron isolated himself in his castle. The life of
towns, prevalent in classic times, was exchanged for
that of solitude and retirement. With the dignity of
the monarch, that of the courtier naturally perished.
Power lay in castle and domain. No marvel that the
high-born and highly-gifted sought to realise their
fortunes, and to erect for themselves, in the provinces,
that solid influence which the favour of the monarch
could no longer bestow. This is the true cause why
those who administered the provinces under Charles the
Bald made their several jurisdictions independent ; con-
verting rights, in their origin vicarious, into personal
and hereditary ones. This final migration of the great
nobles from the court to the provinces, bringing with
them all the regal attributes of high judicial, financial,
and administrative power, was the last blow given to
987- PROVINCIAL NOBLES. 25
royalty, and reduced it to the empty prerogative of a
name. Yet we shall soon see this degraded principle
of authority gradually rise, gathering strength from its
unity and fixedness of purpose, so superior in influence
to the separated and distracted powers of the nobles ;
gradually attracting to itself their waifs, whether of
privileges or property ; rallying around it, now the
clergy, now the people ; and chiefly supporting itself
upon that reverence " which doth hedge a king,"
on that mysterious and superstitious feeling of loyalty, :
which, if unabused, so naturally takes root in the bosoms
of a people.
The period of two hundred and forty yearSj
from the accession of Hugh Capet to that of St.
Louis, is described by Sismondi as " a long in-
terregnum, during which the authority of king was
extinct, although the name continued to subsist." A
history of France, during this period, is a history, not
of its monarch, but of its nobles. And as yet these
details are neither heroic nor important enough to be
interesting. A duke had sprung up in Aquitaine, a
king in Provence. The establishment of the Norman
princes has already been narrated. Betwixt- them and
Aquitaine, Anjou obeyed a warlike count. To the
north, the first Baldwin possessed the County of Flanders
betwixt the Somme and the Meuse. The Duchy of Bur-
gundy was formed in the east; whilst that of Lorraine
was altogether independent of France, and held by
tongue as well as regime to the empire of Germany.
Taking away these provinces from the map of France,
a central portion will be found to remain betwixt the
Loire and the Flemish border. Even here, however, the
last Carlovingians possessed scarcely a castle which they
could call their own. The Counts of Paris possessed
that city, as well as Orleans. The Counts of Verman-
doisTwhose capital was St. Quentin, at this time ruled
Champagne also ; but soon after that province came to
increase the territories of the Counts of Blois. The
only town that obeyed the last reigning descendants of
26 HISTORY OF PRANCE. 987-
Charlemagne was Laon, and here they usually resided,
unless when obliged to take refuge at Rheims, under the
protection of the archbishop, against the attacks of the
surrounding nobles.
Of this dominant and independent aristocracy, the
most fortunately placed, if not the most powerful, was
the Count of Paris. The family had always distinguished
itself. Robert the Strong, its supposed founder, had
combated the Normans when every other Frank fled at
their approach. Eudes had defended Paris against them
during a year's siege ; and such was the renown ac-
quired by the feat, that he was crowned king during the
minority of Charles the Simple. It seems as if this
new dignity diminished rather than increased the power
of the Counts of Paris, by the envy and enmity which
it excited. For when Hugues, of the same family,
might with equal ease have worn the crown, he preferred
bestowing it upon Louis, surnamed Outre-mer, a boy
of Carlovingian blood. In the next generation the
family grew more powerful. The eldest brother pos-
sessed the duchy of Burgundy; the second, Hugh Capet,
was Count of Paris and Orleans; whilst their sister, mar-
ried to the Duke of Normandy, secured the friendship
of that powerful prince. Louis V., or le Faineant, held
the title of king of Laon. He was without offspring;
whilst his uncle, Charles, the sole heir of Carlovingian
rights, held the duchy of Lorraine of the emperor, and
might be supposed a stranger to France and to its suc-
cession. In 987, Louis died at Compiegne, poisoned, it
is said, by his wife. As history is silent as to the cause,
conjecture ha's attributed the crime to the ambition of
Hugh Capet. That noble took advantage of the oppor-
tunity, assembled some of his compeers at Noyon, where
the form of an election was gone through in his favour,
and soon after Hugh caused himself to be crowned in
the cathedral of Rheims.
Charles of Lorraine, though thus prevented of his rights,
was neither friendless nor vanquished. He soon took
forcible possession of Laon and of Rheims, from which
987- HVGH CAPET. 27
Hugh Capet was unable to drive him by forte of arms.
He adroitly, however, contrived to attach to his interests
Ascelin, bishop of Laon, whom Charles, somewhat mis-
trusting, kept "with him at Rheims. A conspiracy,
formed by Ascelin, was attended with complete success.
Charles was seized in his bed, and, together with his
nephew, the archbishop of Rheims, delivered over to
Hugh Capet. That monarch placed his prisoners in
confinement at Orleans, where his competitor, Charles of
Lorraine, soon after died.
These, if we except a long quarrel respecting the
archbishopric of Rheims, are the sole events of the reign
of Hugh Capet, which is supposed to have occupied
nine years. Some modern historians regard the founder
of the third dynasty of French monarchs as a hero
and a master spirit, whose talents won for him a crown.
Others, amongst whom is Sismondi, represent him as
a pious sluggard, indebted to fortune solely for his eleva-
tion. Both are in extreme. We see no proofs of his
heroism. But his was an iron age, in which the ex-
ertions of individuals had slight power in changing the
course of events. Nor does it follow that, because he
was pious, he w r as pusillanimous. He made war on the
Count of Montreuil, to recover the relics of St. Riquier,
which that Count had stolen. Hugh Capet compelled
him to surrender them, and bore himself the venerable
remains on his royal shoulders to the abbey of the
saint. Such is the account of the chroniclers. But if
we observe that Hugh at the same time built and forti-
fied Abbeville, the monarch will not seem altogether
sunk in the superstitious votary.
" Who made thee Count ? " demanded Hugh Capet
of a refractory noble, supposed by some to be Talleyrand,
Count of Angouleme. " The same right that made
thee king," was the bold reply. Such was the mea-
sure of the new monarch's authority. The great feud-
atories, in consenting to place the crown on one of
.their own body, thought less of his elevation than of
humbling the throne. Their views were sound, if they
28 HISTORY OP FRANCE.
considered but themselves, short-sighted, if they looked
forward to posterity. Feudality ascended the throne
with Hugh Capet; and, despite the precautions or inten-
tions of the founders, the head of so powerful a system
could not long remain powerless himself. Organised as
society now was in regular and successive gradations of
inferior and superior, a supreme chief became necessary
to complete the whole. There was something wanting
to crown the structure. The nobles imagined to adorn
it with the lifeless image of royalty. But their sta-
tue, like Pygmalion's, took life as it became the object of
veneration, and grew at length to wield its sceptre with
a muscular arm.
Hugh Capet had taken the precaution to have his son
crowned and consecrated during his own lifetime.
Thus, on the demise of the former, Robert found him-
self the undisputed king of France. The young monarch
was one of those soft, domestic tempers which fate so
often misplaces on a throne. He had married Bertha,
the widow of the Count of Blois, and was tenderly at-
tached to her. The spouses had the misfortune to be
distantly related, and Robert had been godfather to one
of Bertha's children by her former husband. The pope
considered these circumstances sufficient to render the
marriage incestuous ; and he accordingly issued a com-
mand to Robert, desiring him to put away Bertha,
under pain of excommunication. The popes had erected
themselves into the censors of princes, and they were
especially rigid in prohibiting the marriage of cousins.
Such unions, they said, drew down divine vengeance, and
were to be avoided, lest they should produce national ca-
lamities. Nor was this mere superstition on their part :
it had its policy. It was chiefly by intermarriages that the
great aristocracy at this time increased their territories
and influence. Every obstacle thrown in the way of
these alliances consequently checked the growth of their
exorbitant might ; every difficulty or scruple, being in
the power of the pontiff alone to remove, brought con-
siderable advantage, both in revenue and respect, to the
1031. ROBERT THE WISE. 29
holy see. Robert struggled for four or five years in be-
half of his legitimate wife, against the terrors of excom-
munication ; but he was at length compelled to yield, to
chase poor Bertha from his presence, and to take another
wife, Constance, the daughter of the Count of Toulouse.
With her, a woman of more spirit than her predecessor,
Robert was less happy. The monarch dreaded her,
and was even obliged to do his alms in secret for fear
of her reproof. His chief amusement was the singing
and composing of psalms, to which the musical taste of
that age was confined. In a pilgrimage to Rome, Ro-
bert left a sealed paper on the altar of the apostles. The
priesthood expected it to contain a magnificent donation,
and were not little surprised and disappointed to find
it to contain but a hymn of the monarch's composition.
The piety of Robert was most exemplary. He was
anxious to save his subjects from the crime of perjury :
the means he took were, to abstract privately the holy
relics from the cases which contained them, and on
which people were sworn. He substituted an ostrich's
egg, as an innocent object, incapable of taking vengeance
on the false swearer.
Such are the facts which we have to relate of a reign
of nearly thirty-five years. The good king Robert slum-
bered on his throne, with a want of vigour and capacity,
that would have caused a monarch of the first two races
to totter from his seat, or at least would have transferred
his authority to some minister or powerful duke. The
Capetians as yet, however, unlike the Carlovingians, had
neither power nor prerogative to tempt the ambition of
an usurper. The very title of king was unenvied. And
whilst the sovereign led the choir at St. Denis, France
was not the less vigorously governed by its independent
and feudal nobility.
The obstinacy of the pope in breaking the marriages
of princes produced its natural consequences on the
death of Robert. Henry, known as the First of France,
was that monarch's son by Bertha, and had been
crowned in the lifetime of his father. Constance, how-
30 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1037.
ever, attached to her own son Robert, made a league
with Eudes, Count of Champagne, and offered him half
the town of Sens for his assistance against Henry. The
circumstance marks the limit of the duchy of France.
Henry, unable to resist so powerful a noble, fled with
only twelve companions to the protection of Robert,
Duke of Normandy. The Duke furnished the young
king with an army, which soon reduced Constance and
her supporter to submit and make peace. Henry I.
took possession of his circumscribed kingdom, ceding
in fief to his brother Robert the duchy of Burgundy,
and to the Duke of Normandy, as the price of his
aid, a territory called the Vexin, comprised between the
Oise and the Epte; thus bringing the Norman frontier
within a few leagues of Paris. The Vexin proved after-
wards the great subject of contention betwixt the Norman
dukes and their sovereign.
Thus settled on his throne, Henry, like his father
Robert, sunk into quiet and insignificance. The Count
of Champagne, Eudes, eclipsed and overshaded the mo-
narch, who was unable to drive him from Sens. Eudes
sustained a long war with the emperor, as a pretender to
the throne of Aries and Provence. And when the nobles
of Lombardy came to France in search of a sovereign,
they made offer of their crown, not to Henry, but to
Eudes. Yet, despite of the feebleness both of their
power and character, the French monarchs already
drew to them a greater share of respect. Henry made
war upon the Count of Champagne, and afterwards
upon young William the Bastard, Duke of Normandy.
His warlike efforts could make no impression on those
powerful feudatories : and yet Eudes never attempted
to retaliate. The Norman duke, though he routed and
slaughtered one of the royal armies, refrained from
attacking that which the monarch commanded in person.
The feudal system had grown to its full vigour : its
laws were established in superstition as well as custom;
and it was considered both impolitic and impious for a
vassal to war, without flagrant cause of injustice, against
1037- HENRY THE FIRST. 31
his suzerain. Thus the feudal creed and institutions
raised a protecting fence around the feeble plant of
royalty, and so enabled it to attain that maturity and
height which were hereafter to suffice for its own exist-
ence and defence.
This new growth of the monarchic principle, how-
ever, had at this time scarce raised itself from the ground.
Like a well-born infant, it inspired at most a tender
respect. It had neither authority nor influence : these
the aristocracy had for a century monopolized. The
power of the nobles alone flourished or subsisted in the
state. The church first rose to combat them ; and this
epoch the reigns of Robert and Henry marks the
commencement of the struggle. In the rude tenth cen-
tury, the priesthood had been completely trodden down.
Duke and baron and chevalier had usurped their
lands, seized churches and convents, and appropriated to
themselves the right of presentation at least, which they
sold or bartered, when one of their own family did not
hold the benefice. The national clergy was utterly
unable to withstand their powerful lay brethren. The
crown, their natural protector, was not in a condition to
aid them. In this state of helplessness they looked to
the pope of Rome for support. There they applied
thither they appealed. In rallying round the chair of
the Roman pontiff they saw the only hopes of rescuing
themselves, their remaining property and privileges,
from the hands of the nobles. From near and temporal
tyranny, they appealed to the far and the spiritual.
The popes took advantage of the movement, and soon
erected thereon their supreme and infallible authority.
To effect this great end, they left no means unemployed.
War was declared against simony ; councils were held ;
prelates deposed; and all the thunders of the church
dealt forth on whoever traded in or usurped ecclesiastical
benefices. The formation of an electoral college of car-
dinals secured the papal chair itself from the influence
of the emperors. The celibacy of the clergy was at the
same time preached and enjoined, in order to separate
32 HISTOBY OF FRANCE. 1037.
them still more from worldly and local interests, and to
unite the church into a compact body, such as might vie
with feudality itself. The priesthood throughout Europe,
who, had they been independent and uninjured at the
beginning of the eleventh century, would have been
inclined to resist the growing authority of their superior
of Rome, in the then dire and spoliated state of the
church seconded it with all their might. Royalty was
unable to struggle against it, except in Germany, where
it did so with very doubtful success. The nobility,
scattered, ignorant, and engaged in mutual hostilities,
though able to plunder the ecclesiastics of their district,
could offer to the united force of the hierarchy but feeble
and partial points of resistance. The papal see, like
Briareus, attacked them with an hundred arms. Vice-
gerent of celestial power, it held out in either hand
salvation and perdition. Absolution and anathema were
both in its gift. Frequent miracles were made to sanction
its divine authority ; so frequent, indeed, that the pious
frauds of that age resuscitated the belief and practice of
magic. Having thus formed for itself such an arsenal
of arms as no power could oppose, the Roman see
framed such a moral code as called for and necessitated
their use. Man's natural conscience, with its simple
teachings and its unerring warnings, was superseded;
the Gospel, so harmonious with its voice, was set aside ;
and the obsolete canons of Judaism, with the arbitrary
glossings of an ill-informed and interested body of men,
substituted in its stead.
On such foundations, by such accidents and means,
did the Romish church raise up the bulwarks of its
authority. The priesthood are not, more than any
body of men, to be accused of universal selfishness.
The intentions of early pontiffs were no doubt good,
pious, and philanthropic. In putting a curb in the
mouth and a bar in the way of the aristocracy, they
produced the best effects upon the prospects of Europe.
A pity it was, that in the combat they found it necessary
to lay waste and to prostrate the minds of men, as tern-
1037- POWER OF THE CHURCH. 33
poral tyrants did to ravage their properties and enslave
their persons. Certain it is, that they corrupted the
sources both of rational and moral sense. They removed
and destroyed the very landmarks of reason, that they
themselves might be the only and arbitrary meters of
it. They rendered right undistinguishable from wrong ;
truth from falsehood and administered, by way of an-
tidotes to incredulity, the deadliest poisons of bigotry
and superstition.
These accusations should, perhaps, instead of being
directed against one class, be extended to man and to the
age. The church then took upon itself the difficult and
ungrateful task of legislating and improving, which, in
our own times, is not accomplished with any wonderful
degree of either enlightenment or disinterestedness. And,
perhaps, if we consider attentively the legislators and
moralists of later days, we shall feel less entitled to
declaim against the ecclesiastical sins and errors of the
past.
Still, the means employed by the priesthood of this
century to subdue and to rule mankind were pernicious
and unjust. The ends they had in view were far
otherwise ; and the first use which they made of their
new power proves it. This was to establish the Treve
de Dieu, or Truce of God ; by which some check was
put to the unceasing warfare of the nobles, some res-
pite and security procured for the unfortunate pea-
santry. From Wednesday at sunset till sunrise on
Monday it was ordained that all military operations
and acts of violence should cease. Feast days were
included amongst those devoted to peace, as well as
the long intervals of fast and penitence which occur
in the Romish church. The persons of all professing
a religious life were rendered sacred ; and, what per-
haps shows the humanity and wisdom of the measure
more than any of the regulations, all implements of hus-
bandry were put under the protection of the truce. In
any case it was forbidden to destroy them. These laws,
VOL. I. D
34 HISTORY OF FRANCE,
promulgated by the clergy, were enforced under pain of
excommunication ; and for a certain time they proved
effectual in restraining the violence of the nohles. Even
when the Truce of God was forgotten, it left behind
some principles of national or military law. It first
taught the soldier to blend humanity with courage,
generosity with daring ; and accustomed men to observe
eome rules of justice, even in hours and acts of violence.
Chivalry soon after took up these maxims, which the
clergy were not fully able to enforce ; and the gallant
sons of the aristocracy gave their aid in repressing the
most flagrant abuses of the supremacy of their order.
Henry I. died in the year 1060. He had married
Anne, a Russian princess ; apparently determined to
allow the pope no cause of spiritual warfare against
him. For, had he espoused a French wife, he could
never be certain that she was not related to him in some
distant yet forbidden degree.
Henry was succeeded by his son Philip I., who
was but seven years of age when he began to reign.
Baldwin, Count of Flanders, had married king Henry's
sister, and was left guardian to the infant; a charge which
he honourably and successfully filled. The minority of
Philip was marked by a most important event the con-
quest of England by William, Duke of Normandy. For
the English reader, it is here sufficient to indicate its
date. With this exception, there is scarcely an event
in the first thirty-five years of the reign of Philip that
demands attention. Whilst the Normans were laying
the foundations of their sway in England, the famous
Hildebrand, who had been pope under the titJe of
Gregory VII., was establishing the papal supremacy ; and
the long and important quarrel betwixt pontiff and
emperor was then commencing. Philip, whose scanty
revenues obliged him to retain and convert to his own
use the ecclesiastical revenues of his duchy wherever
pretext or opportunity was afforded, was often, during
that time, the object of the invectives and menaces of
the imperious pontiff. But the French king fortunately
1069- P11IMP THE FIRST. 35
knew how to temporise and yield, and so avoided the
misfortunes of his cotemporary the emperor Henry IV.
From the reign of Philip dates an important change
in the manners and feelings of the French. For cen-
turies back the general tendency of nations and of pro-
vinces, as of individuals, had been to isolate, to separate
their interests from those of their neighbours, and to
establish a surly and unsocial state of independence.
There was no common bond of union, even amongst the
French. The feudal system, indeed, generally prevailed ;
but so rude was its state, so unfixed its laws, and so
uncertain the security which it gave, that hitherto the
efforts of every individual were required to preserve his
rank and his rights. Beyond selfish interests none had
leisure to look. About this epoch, however, the feudal law
became consolidated : the rights of princes and vassals
were somewhat more respected ; the habits of mutual
warfare were checked by the interference of the clergy,
whose frequent assemblies and journeyings, joined with
the centralisation of ecclesiastical authority in the pope,
rendered communicationsbetwixtdifferent provinces more
frequent and more facile. The nation, in short, began
to re-knit the links that had long been broken. Reli-
gion formed one point of sympathy : another was that
warlike spirit, which the age and the system generated,
but which was allowed no worthy scope or field in which
to display itself. A treacherous ambuscade laid for a
neighbour, or the tedious siege of his almost impreg-
nable castle, were the only opportunities for exercising
the restless spirit of a rude and uninstructed race. Even
these opportunities the church, with its Treve de Dieu
and the regularisation of the feudal code, were daily
taking away. In this time of forced and dissatisfactory
quiet, the chivalrous spirit was created. Poets and nar-
rators sprung up, and were rewarded. The hour of
inaction was filled by listening to the recital of stirring
deeds. In the absence of real war, the mimickry of it
was eagerly sought after ; and the field of tournament
was made a substitute for that of battle. Here was
D 2
36 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1 060.
another pretext and cause for assembly, for communi-
cation, for society. But even the perils of a tournay
had not interest enough for many. Of these, some be-
took themselves to far and painful pilgrimages ; others,
to combat the infidels in Spain ; others, to wander at
home, and afford protection to the weak and the op-
pressed, to the damsel and the orphan.
To a public mind thus at length united in common
sympathies, and which was at once so restless, so spirited,
and so eager, the most welcome offer was a field of ad-
venture. This was found in the East. Pilgrimages
had been long the mode. They were the natural conse-
quence of the worship of saints and relics, and of the
notion that bodily privations and perils encountered would
be considered by the deity as a set-off against sin. It
was an age of great crimes and great remorses, and pil-
grimages formed then the only medicine of the guilty
mind ; the Romish church not having yet broached the
doctrine, that the payment of money to it was sufficient
to purchase a plenary indulgence. For a long period
previous to this, pilgrims had been in the habit of flocking
to celebrated shrines ; but the holy sepulchre at Jerusalem
eclipsed all others in honour and efficacy. In 1054,
Lithbert bishop of Cambray had led three thousand
Flemish pilgrims to the Holy Land. Some years after,
double that number performed the same difficult voyage
from the Palatinate and the banks of the Rhine. The
sufferings which they endured were unheard of and un-
equalled even in the annals of feudal violence. The recital
of them by the pilgrims who had escaped provoked the
indignation of their compatriots at home; whilst the im-
mense spiritual advantages, as well as honour, gained by
the achievement of such a journey, excited their warmest
emulation.
These unarmed expeditions, with the cruelties exer-
cised upon them by the infidels, suggested armed and
hostile ones. The universal thought of an age is often
referred to the first bold utterer of it. To Peter the
jHermit is attributed the honour of the first crusade. He
1095. PETER THE HERMIT. 3J
was one of those who had undergone the sufferings and
escaped the dangers of pilgrimage. Of an ardent, enthu-
siastic character, he conceived the idea of bringing an
army of European Christians to rescue the holy sepulchre.
With this view he procured letters from the patriarch of
Jerusalem to the pope and the princes of Europe, bewail-
ing the captivity of the land hallowed as the scene of the
Saviour's birth and life, and supplicating the aid of the
faithful to its deliverance. Peter the Hermit bore this
mission to pope Urban, who replied that he would second
the demand to the utmost of his power. Peter did not
rely on the pope's support alone, but traversed Europe
himself, preaching in every city, depicting in indignant
eloquence the sufferings of Christian pilgrims, and the
insolence of Turk and Saracen; representing, at the
same time, the merit and advantages of acting upon such
just resentment, and of marching, under the banner of
the Lord, to the defence of his followers and the rescue
of his holy sepulchre. The Greek emperor Alexis sent
at the same time an embassy, demanding aid against the
infidel. A council was held at Placentia to take these im-
portant questions into consideration. It proved not con-
clusive, however. The Italians, more civilised and less
superstitious than surrounding nations, from being near
to witness the little sanctity of the existing heads and
fathers of the church, as also from the spirit of freedom
and commerce which had of late sprung up amongst
them, were less enthusiastic than the pope or hermit had
hoped. They could not sympathise with the general
hatred against the Orientals, with whom they at the time
carried on a lucrative trade. They raised neither vote nor
acclamation in favour of the crusade.
The council was, therefore, transferred prudently to a
more rude and more devout region. Clermont, in Au-
vergne, was that fixed on. The knights, barons, and
bishops of France hurried, full of enthusiasm, to the ren-
dezvous. Peter the Hermit first addressed the assembly
with the heat of his wonted eloquence. Pope Urban fol-
lowed him, and the words of the pontiff seemed more
D 3
38 HISTOBY OP FRANCE. 1097-
replete with unction than even the hermit's. No mo-
tives of worldliness, of self, or prudence, checked the
enthusiasm of the assembly at Auvergne. When Urban,
in the midst of his harangue, introduced the verse of the
Gospel, "Whosoever shall quit house, or father, or mother,
or wife, or lands, for my name, shall receive an hundred
fold," the whole audience interrupted the speaker with
one burst of assent; and the universal cry of " God wills
it ! God wills it ! " came from the crowd. Urban
took up the cry, and declared it to be immediately dic-
tated by the Divinity. It was a miracle, a striking ma-
nifestation of the will of Heaven. The painter's art,
better than the historian's, might represent the scene
that occurred ; the holy frenzy, the devout resolve, the
tear of penitence, the rapt emotion. The pope imposed
silence with his hand, and a form of general confession
was read to them openly, and repeated by them. They
then arose. The bishop of Puy was the first to assume
the cross, and his example was followed by every chief
of importance present. The brother of king Philip, the
Count of Toulouse, Godfrey of Bouillon, Duke of Lower
Lorraine, and his brothers, and Robert, Duke of Nor-
mandy, son of the Conqueror, were amongst the most
renowned undertakers of the crusade. A year's interval
was allowed for the preparations necessary to the expe-
dition. The zeal of the hermit Peter could not tarry,
however, for the lapse of that time. He collected many
thousands of the poorer adventurers, who had neither
affairs to arrange nor estates to sell. At their head he
set forth, following the course of the Danube, towards
Constantinople. The Greeks hastened to transport the
tumultuous throng over the Bosphorus. In Asia they
soon fell victims to their want of discipline and means,
and to the vengeance of the Turks. In a few months
after, the better ordered army of the crusaders marched
under several commanders. In May 1097 they van-
quished the soldan of Nicea in battle, avenging the
rout of Peter the Hermit and his followers. In June
of the following year the crusaders were masters of An-
1108. THE FIRST CRUSADE. 39
tioch ; and in 1099 they made their victorious entry
into Jerusalem, of which Godfrey of Bouillon was de-
clared the king.
While the best blood and interests of France were thus
engaged in a chivalrous war, king Philip was occupied
in obscure quarrels with pope Urban and William Rufus
of England. In the last year of this century, rinding
his vigour decline, he associated his son Louis with him
in the government, and henceforth became a cipher.
Philip died in 1108. Feebleness and inertness mark
the reign of the four first Capetians. In the successor
of Philip the race began to partake in the general ac-
tivity of the age.
The reign of Louis VI., better known as Louis le
Gros, or the Fat, began in the lifetime of his predecessor.
He was the first French monarch that entertained any
settled maxim of government, or whose ideas reached a
system of policy. His predecessors had been the crea-
tures, the followers, of events. Louis knew how to control
these. The whole effort and aim of his reign was to re-
duce the barons of the duchy of France to obedience. His
views did not extend to the kingdom. He prudently
limited his exertions to the counties within or bordering
upon his power. History may disdain to recount minutely
the wars carried on by Louis against the barons of Mont-
morenci, whose castle rose within view of his capital, or
against the lords of Puiset, of Montlheri, or of Couci,
possessors of strongholds within a few leagues of Paris,
from whence they w y ere wont to sally forth to the plun-
der of travellers and merchants. And yet, of all the wars
that adorn or sully the French annals, none were more
wise in aim, more useful or important in consequences,
than these petty enterprises of Louis. His first attempt
was against the Burchards, lords of Montmorenci, who
were continually in quarrel with the abbaye of St. Denis;
and, if we are to believe the chronicles of the day,
written for the most part in that famous convent, the
Montmorencis were impious spoliators and enemies
of the church. Louis stood forth the champion of the
4
40 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1108.
clergy, and brought the Burchards to reason. His next
efforts were directed against the chateau of Montlheri
and its rapacious owners, who interrupted all communi-
cation betwixt the royal towns of Paris and Orleans,
greatly to the detriment of commerce and the annoyance
of the townsfolk. Louis here took care to have a pretext
also. He did not assert his royal authority, and arm to
avenge it. It was as the ally of the clergy that he sub-
dued the Montmorencis ; it was as the friend of com-
merce, and the avenger of the plundered burgesses, that
he besieged Montlheri. Louis XI. did not use more
policy and feint in Lls undermining of the aristocracy,
than did Louis VI. ; the latter, unfortunately for his own
fame, having only the smaller sphere of action.
Nevertheless, the name of Louis the Fat stands con-
nected with one of the most important revolutions in the
civil history of France, viz. the enfranchisement of the
communes or commons, as the early municipalities were
called. From him towns received their first charters ;
from his reign their first liberties date. We have seen
that, from the earliest period of this history, the mass
of the people enjoyed no influence or consideration.
Utterly enslaved at first, the feudal system somewhat
improved their condition, and admitted them to partial
privileges. Still the aristocracy pressed them down
with an iron hand. Serfs in the country, villains in the
town, their property and life were held under suffer-
ance of the seignor rather than as sacred rights. Man's
natural pride alone might cause him to revolt against
such injustice : but the towns of Europe were not
without traditions of a more equitable state of things.
They had enjoyed freedom as municipalities under the
Roman empire ; and, however politically dependant, all
local authority had been exercised by the civic council
and magistrates. To the remembrance of these days
the townsmen held with obstinacy. The precedent was
recorded, if not on parchment, at least in the hearts of
the oppressed. It was handed down from father to son ;
and not all the ignorance and violence of the dark ages
1108. LOUIS THE FAT. 41
proved sufficient to erase or tread out the old vestiges of
municipal freedom. It happened, too, that the struggle
betwixt church and aristocracy was maintained more
especially in towns. The bishop and the count almost
always disputed the sovereignty of the town ; and po-
pular rights, in consequence, must have been at times
invoked by the weaker party. In Italy, where this
struggle was fiercest, owing to the quarrels betwixt pope
and emperor, the cities took the earliest advantage of
this position. The citizens, leagued together in their
own interest, formed communes or municipal councils,
and, balancing their attachment and support betwixt the
contending parties, succeeded in establishing their inde-
pendence. Security thus gained from their rapacious
masters, commerce, wealth, order, respect, the natural
consequences of liberty, were found to follow. The
south of France first caught this spirit from their neigh-
bours on the other side of the Alps. The towns of
Provence and Languedoc early erected themselves into
little republics, more or less independent of neighbouring
princes, under the rule of their own consuls. But Lan-
guedoc or Provence could not as yet be considered as
making part of the French monarchy. Under Philip I.
the towns of the north began to imitate those of
the south. Mantes, according to some, was the first
commune ; according to others, Noyon. It was in the
reign of Louis the Fat that the communes openly
asserted and established their civic privileges. The
only revenues of that prince were drawn from his good
cities ; and it behoved him, on this account, to set them
free from the yoke of other masters or spoliators. The
formation of the civic magistracies and militia checked
mightily the arrogance of the barons : and Louis, with-
out supposing in him any principle of policy too profound
or foreseeing for his age, could not but perceive this
tendency, and encourage it. Eeauvais, Noyon, Laon,
Amiens, and Soissons, had all charters granted them by
Louis the Fat. In some towns the bishops favoured, in
some they opposed, the enfranchisement of the com-
42 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1115.
mons. The barons were in general averse. The
king was obliged to wage a tedious war against the
family of Couci, which, by means of a fortress, kept
possession of the town of Amiens. He at length took
and razed it; and the seignory of the De Coucis merged
in the township of Amiens.
It was not merely by military exploits, and by the
elevation of the tiers etat or third estate, that the royal
authority progressed during the reign of Louis VI.
The judicial authority attributed to the monarch by the
feudal system, and exercised by him in his court or
council of peers, made him the arbiter of disputed suc-
cessions. It was thus that Philip I. had extended
his influence over the province of Berri. His son Louis
interfered in the quarrels of the house of Bourbon, where
a minor struggled against the usurpation of his uncle.
Louis entered the Bourbonnois with an army in 1115,
took Germigny, the principal fortress of Aymon of
Bourbon, and compelled him to submit. Not since the
early Carlovingians had the banners of a king of France
been seen so far from his capital. The continued rivalry
betwixt the Normans or English, and the French,
excited and kept alive the warlike spirit of both na-
tions. Henry I. reigned in England, and also in Nor-
mandy, which he had usurped from his brother Robert.
Louis took the part of the latter, as well as of his son
William ; and mutual wars, or rather ravages, were
frequent, with intervals of peace, betwixt the nations.
One event that occurred during these wars marks
strongly the cruel spirit of the age : Henry I.
was struggling against an insurrection of the Norman
barons in favour of his nephew : this was the moment
chosen by the Count of Breteuil to demand of the king
the fortress of Ivry, which adjoined his possessions.
The count had married Henry's natural daughter Ju-
liana, and hence esteemed that he had a claim upon his
generosity. It was not the moment to refuse the demand
of a noble. Henry, however, was reluctant to give up
Ivry; but, in order to content Breteuil, he ordered
1121. DEFEAT OF LOUIS AT BRE.VXEVILLE. 43
Harenc, the royal governor of the town, to deliver up
his son to the lord of Breteuil ; at the same time making
the count deliver his daughters by Juliana, as counter-
hostages, to his own keeping. He thus ensured that
Harenc would not sally from his place of command, or
otherwise make use of it to annoy or injure the Count of
Breteuil. The latter, however, was not satisfied with
the arrangement. He laid siege to the fortress of Iviy,
and threatened to put his hostage, the governor's son, to
death, in case the latter did not surrender his trust.
Breteuil reasoned that his children would, at all events,
be safe in the custody of their grandfather. Harenc
would not deliver Ivry ; and the Count of Breteuil, in
pursuance of his threat, put out the eyes of his young
hostage. Raoul de Harenc flew to the feet of Henry,
and, in the rage of sorrow and resentment, demanded
the daughters of his enemy, that he might use the ter-
rible right of reprisal. Henry hesitated. The monarch
was cruelly situated : but the ideas of feudal justice pre-
vailed in his mind over attachment to his kin. The
monarch delivered his grandchildren, the daughters of
the Count of Breteuil, and Harenc tore out their eyes,
and cut off their noses, in execution of the vengeance
that he deemed just.
The principal feat of the war betwixt Henry and
Louis was produced by accident. The two kings, each
at the head of some five hundred knights, encountered
one another in the plain of Brenneville. An engagement
ensued, in which Louis was routed, and most of the
French made prisoners. Only three were killed : to
such perfection had defensive armour been brought so
much had war sunk to the mimickry of a tournament.
Another enterprise of Louis, in the year 1121, marks
the rapid increase of the king's influence. A few years
since he had established his authority in the Bourbonnois:
now he extended it to Auvergne. In a quarrel betwixt
the count and bishop of Clermont, the latter appealed to
Louis, who summoned the count to his supreme court,
and, on his refusal to appear, marched with an army and
44 HISTORY Or FRANCE. 1137-
subdued him, as he had previously the lord of Bourbon.
The counts of Anjou and of Nevers aided him in the
expedition. They felt no reluctance in carrying into
effect the decrees of that court of peers of which they
formed a part. Louis VI. died in 1137- It is strange
that history could find for this monarch no epithet save
that of the Fat, at the same time that it records innu-
merable proofs of a talented mind, of an active and
enterprising spirit.
Towards the conclusion of this monarch's reign, for-
tune came to reward and crown his efforts for the ex-
tension of the royal authority. William, Count of Poi-
tiers, about to undertake a pilgrimage, from which he
had the presentiment that he never should return, offered
his daughter Eleonora in marriage to Louis the Young,
son of Louis the Fat. She was the heiress of her father's
possessions, which surpassed in extent and importance
those of the king of France himself, comprising Guienne
and Poitou, all the country, in fact, betwixt the Loire
and the Adour. The marriage was celebrated at Bour-
deaux ; and soon after it arrived tidings of the deaths
both of the king and of the Count of Poitiers. Thus
Louis VII,, or the Young, succeeded to dominions and
authority infinitely more ample than those which his
father had inherited. But the want of talent in the son
did away with all these advantages. Nevertheless he
commenced his reign with spirit. He chastised several
refractory nobles, and resolved to support the queen's
rights to the county of Toulouse. Louis besieged that
town. He failed in taking it, indeed : but the king of
France, at the head of an army, made his name and
power known for the first time to the inhabitants of the
south. During a war carried on about the same time
against Thibaud, Count of Champagne, an accident oc-
curred, which had a marked effect upon the future conduct
and character of Louis the Young. He had taken by
storm the castle of Vitry, and set fire to it. The flames
chanced to catch the neighbouring church, into which
the population had crowded, to preserve themselves from
1147- THE SECOND CRUSADE. 45
the fury of the soldiery. It appears that they had no
means of escape. Thirteen hundred men, women, and
children, perished in the conflagration. Louis was
horror-struck on beholding the mass of half consumed
bodies, and the weight of the remorse hung ever after
upon him, and weighed down his spirit. It was the
chief cause that induced him to assume the cross, and to
lead that expedition to Jerusalem which is known in
history as the second crusade.
Edessa, one of the principal towns possessed and
garrisoned by the French in Palestine, was taken by the
sultan of Aleppo, and the inhabitants put to the sword.
The tidings stirred up all Christendom to vengeance.
Assemblies and councils were called, and a final one
met at Vezelay, in which the enthusiasm of that of
Clermont was equalled. The celebrated Saint Bernard
was the eloquent haranguer upon this occasion, and filled
the place of Peter the Hermit ; having, however, unlike
his predecessor, the good sense to refuse the conduct of
the expedition when it was offered to him. The em-
peror Conrad and Louis VII. each led an army
of upwards of a hundred thousand men through the
valley of the Danube to Constantinople. No sooner,
however, had they passed into Asia, than the Germans,
who preceded the French, were routed and cut to pieces.
The army of the latter took a more circuitous path, but
scarcely with better fortune. One half of their number
was cut off; the rest reached Satalia, a sea-port opposite
to Cyprus, where the king and his nobles, weary of the
tedious march by land, took shipping for Palestine,
leaving their followers to make the best of their way on
foot, without guide or leader. All that remained pe-
rished. And of the two hundred thousand warriors
who had left the west of Europe, bold of spirit and
resplendent in arms, Louis only, with a band of some
hundred of cavaliers, reached the Holy Land. The ig-
nominy of this ill success, and the desertion of his
followers, fell upon king Louis ; and he felt it, not to
rally and redeem his character, but to sink under the
46 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 11 47-
shame. He abandoned the feelings of the monarch and
the warrior for those of the pilgrim; refused at first to
undertake any enterprise against the infidels; and stole
from Antioch to Jerusalem like a craven. If his sub-
jects were discontented with such weakness in their
sovereign, Eleonoraof Aquitaine was still more disgusted
with such a husband : she refused longer to remain on
any friendly terms with him. The historians of France,
who detest the memory of her who transferred half the
provinces of the kingdom to the Plantagenets, accuse her
of lightness of conduct on this occasion; but their tes-
timony is much to be mistrusted. Not a single feat of
arms marked the stay of Louis in Palestine, where
he lingered until 1149, ashamed to return. He did so
at length, and it was to show that all prudence had
forsaken him as well as courage. The quarrel betwixt
him and Eleonora was at its height. He withdrew his
garrisons from Aquitaine, more in spite than policy. A
divorce was pronounced betwixt the spouses by an as-
sembly of prelates at Beaugency, and Eleonora soon
after married Henry II. of England, bringing with her
the rich dowry of her inheritance.
Hence dates the rivalry betwixt the kings which fills
up the rest of their reigns. In perusing their history,
and beholding the superior activity, talents, and power
of the English monarch, we expect to see him crush his
rival and usurp his place. But in that age war tended
more to mutual annoyance than to conquest : it was a
livelihood to the needy, a portion to the powerful; and
neither were very serious or bent upon the destruction
of an enemy. A prisoner that could afford a large
ransom, was chiefly looked to by each soldier in the
event of a battle. Feudal rights and supremacy were
also held in high respect; and the name of suzerain,
though but a name, often supplied to Louis the place of
the armies of his vassal Henry. In time the church
came to fling itself into the scale. The persecution and
murder of Thomas a Becket roused all the clergy in
enmity to Henry, and Louis took advantage of their aid.
1180. DEATH OF LOUIS THE YOUNG. 47
Later still, the French monarch used the more unworthy
expedient of exciting the sons of Henry to rebel against
their parent ; and throughout, he contrived to supply
by intrigue what he wanted in martial spirit, activity,
and power. Although the divorce of Eleonora deprived
Louis of the possession of Aquitaine, still the marriage
was not useless to him : it made the monarch's name to
be known, and his authority invoked, in the south.
When Henry endeavoured to make good those same
rights of Eleonora upon Toulouse that Louis himself
had supported, the latter took the part of the Tou-
lousans, and defeated the intentions of his rival. And
he was equally successful in support of the people
of Auvergne. Louis VII. was long without a son,
and at length obtained one by dint of prayer. When
the life of the prince was threatened by a fever, the
anxious parent undertook a pilgrimage to Canterbury,
to the tomb of St. Thomas a Becket, for his recovery.
The young Philip recovered ; but Louis, on his return,
was struck with a palsy, under which he lingered for
the space of a year, and died in 1 1 80.
Two centuries had now elapsed since the accession
of Hugh Capet. At that period France was divided
into a thousand petty states, each shut up in its bar-
barism. Selfishness, violence, and want of faith, were
general characteristics. Courage was the only virtue
prized ; independence the only boon sought after. Now,
however, a union, a concentration, had taken place. The
unforeseen development of the feudal system had raised
the king supreme above the aristocracy; and this, to-
gether with other causes, amongst which the crusades
rank foremost, had assimilated the formerly disjointed
parts of the state, and given a general bond of sympathy
to the nation. Social habits and frequent intercourse
excited emulation of a kind less coarse and more varied
than the mere struggle betwixt strong and weak. The
creation of wealth and luxury suggested the more re-
fined wants of the imagination and the heart. Selfish-
ness and fraud gave way to the chivalrous virtues. A
48 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1180.
general tendency to enthusiasm and devotion distin-
guished the rising age ; and both were extreme, to
whatever object directed, whether towards religion, to-
wards royalty, or to the fairer sex.
Philip Augustus, who was about fifteen years of age
when he began to reign, was already the nursling of
court adulation and homage. His predecessors had not
attained dignity sufficient to expose them to this bane of
the royal nature. Congratulations, couched in the lan-
guage of oriental hyperbole, had greeted his birth. He
was styled the Dieu-donne, the august ; and self-con-
stituted laureates began already to celebrate the majesty
of the monarch of the French. Formerly, the sur.-
rounding nobles had disdained to dispute court favour
or influence ; but the first years of Philip's reign were
taken up with the rivalry of the houses of Flanders and
Champagne, which each sought to be the masters and
ministers of the young sovereign. Henry II. of
England gave his support to the Counts of Cham-
pagne, and the partisans of Flanders were obliged to
retire from Paris. They formed a league, and menaced
war ; but Philip, with the English monarch's aid, easily
overcame the malcontents. Henry showed generosity
on this occasion. Instead of profiting by the divisions
of the French, and keeping them alive, he frankly sup-
ported the young king against his refractory barons. He
was king himself, and sympathised with royalty. Philip
ill repaid this kindness : he imitated his father's policy
in seducing the sons of the English monarch from their
allegiance; and their frequent ingratitude at length broke
the heart of the sensitive and passionate monarch.
Richard, Duke of Aquitaine, known as Cceur de Lion,
and his father's successor on the throne, was the especial
friend and ally of Philip in these quarrels ; and for a
long time the princes shared the same tent and the same
bed.
Meantime a third crusade began to be preached. This
prevalent enthusiasm, like the rebellions of an oppressed
yet brave people, was sure to arouse itself and re-awaken
1190. THE THIRD CRUSADE. 49
as soon as time had elapsed sufficient to allow the disasters
of the past to be forgotten. Saladin had recently taken
Jerusalem. Fugitives instantly filled Europe with the
dismal tidings. The cry for a crusade became general:
it was no longer, however, the church that called a
council to debate and decide upon the question ; another
power had arisen to rob the clergy of their initiative.
The king called a parkment of his barons at Gisors, and
there a third crusade was determined upon. Cceur de
Lion was the first to assume the cross ; and king Philip,
only hurt at being anticipated, followed his example.
Frederic Barbarossa also took the same resolution. That
emperor died, owing to imprudently bathing in a river
of Asia Minor, ere he reached the Holy Land.
In June of the year 1 1 90, Philip Augustus received
the pilgrim's scrip and staff from the hands of the abbot
of St. Denis. Richard received his at Tours; and it was
remarked, as an omen, that, as he leaned on the staff, it
broke under his weight. In order to avoid the disasters
of former crusades, they were to proceed to Palestine by
sea. The two kings wintered in Sicily on their voyage
thither, and there laid the foundation of their future
jealousy and hate. The crusaders found the barons
of Syria engaged in the siege of Acre. Their arrival
hastened its surrender, and at the same time marked it
with crime. Richard caused upwards of two thousand
captives to be massacred in cold blood, and Philip was
guilty of a similar piece of cruelty. The monarchs,
indeed, had some slight breach of stipulations to allege,
or might excuse their conduct as a reprisal for that of
Saladin, who put to death many of the prisoners whom
he made at the battle of Tiberias, more especially all
those whose tonsure marked them to belong to the order
of the Templars. It was thus that the ferocity of ori-
ental manners came to alloy the more generous spirit of
chivalry. In Palestine the French learned to be san-
guinary and merciless towards their religious enemies,
and hence it was that the fair page of their history was
VOL. I. E
50 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1 1 99-
soon afterwards stained by the massacre of those whom
they called heretics at home.
Philip Augustus could not long endure the superior
renown and prowess of Cceur de Lion. He seized the
pretext of an illness to quit Palestine and abandon the
field of glory to his rival. Returning home, he besought
the pope to release him from the oath which bound him to
respect the rights and territories of a brother crusader.
The pontiff refused: but Philip felt himself sufficiently
absolved by the Machiavelian law of monarchical policy.
And fortune, in making Richard fall captive to the Duke
of Austria, in his return from the Holy Land, seemed to
favour the envious designs of the French monarch.
Philip no sooner was informed of Richard's captivity,
than he leagued with his brother John, and invaded
Normandy. He took several towns and castles, but was
repulsed from before Rouen. At length Richard was
released, or, as Philip wrote to his confederate, " the
devil broke loose." We expect on this occasion to
read of a furious war betwixt the sovereigns. And yet
no brilliant feat, no general engagement, marked that
which ensued. Petty treason and short truce, varied by
a skirmish or a marauding party, were all the effects
produced by the envy of Philip and the resentment of
the lion-hearted king. The death of the latter by an
arrow-shot, as he besieged a castle in the Limousin,
left a less formidable rival to Philip in the person of
king John.
The writer of fiction never imagined a baser cha-
racter than that of John. His cowardice and meanness
form a phenomenon and an exception in the feudal ages.
The nullity of such a rival converted Philip Augustus
from the powerless intriguer to the conqueror and the
hero. The latter, who knew the character of John, no
sooner heard of his succession than he prepared to take
advantage of it. And yet intrigue was the first weapon
he employed. As he had seduced Richard from his
father's allegiance, and John from that of Richard,
Philip now espoused the cause of Arthur of Britany,
1204. CONQUEST OF CONSTANTINOPLE. 51
the nephew of John, proclaiming his right not only
to Britany, but to Poitou, Anjou, and Touraine. War
ensued, during which chance made Arthur prisoner
to his uncle. All acquainted with the pages of Shak-
speare know too well the young prince's fate. Philip
was in the mean time checked in his projects by
the court of Rom ?> which had laid an interdict upon
him, on account of his divorce from Ingeburga of Den-
mark. And the preaching of a fourth crusade about
the same time took from him the interest and the aid of
many nobles and chevaliers. This expedition scarcely
belongs to our history. It was undertaken in con-
cert with the Venetians ; but, instead of contributing
to the defeat of the Saracens, the crusaders turned
their forces against the Greek emperor, and made them-
selves masters of Constantinople, where they estab-
lished a Latin dynasty. By the taking and sack of
Constantinople the cavaliers of the West did more in-
jury to the Christian cause than ever their victories in
Palestine worked detriment to the power of the followers
of Mahomet.
Philip was, during the same interval, engaged in the
conquest of Normandy, which the imbecility and cowardice
of John delivered to his arms without defence. Roger
de Lascy held the fortress of Andelys for several months
against the French, and was the only valiant servitor of
an unworthy monarch. The barons and warriors of
England disdained to fight under his banner. There
was as yet none of that rivalry which afterwards sprang
up betwixt the nations. The monarchs of both were
French princes, speaking the French tongue : and, al-
though subsequent historians have given a national colour
to the combats and conquests of Philip, the struggle was
almost purely personal. Rouen, the capital of Nor-
mandy, surrendered to him (1204), without John's mak-
ing a single effort to preserve it. And thus a few years
of the reign of one weak prince more than counter-
balanced the long established superiority of the monarchs
of England.
E 2
52 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1204.
It has been seen what use the French monarchs made
of their courts of peers, and of the judicial supremacy
allowed them, in extending their authority over barons
heretofore independent. Philip dared to apply the same
principle to the dukes of Normandy, which his father
had successfully done with regard to the counts of
Bourbon and Auvergne. He summoned John before
his suzerain court, to answer for the murder of Arthur
and other crimes. Henry II., or Richard, would have
given fit answer to such a summons. The Xorman
princes always held their homage to be that by parade
or courtesy, not homage-liege. But John had neither
the sense of his dignity, nor the spirit to maintain it.
He allowed the jurisdiction of Philip's court, though he
feared to obey his summons ; and he thus seemed to
allow a legal right to the usurpations of Philip. The
latter, indeed, appeared to feel the want of dignity in the
assessors of his court. All nobles holding their lands
directly of the king were peers in his parliament ; and
thus the petty lords of the counties of Paris and Orleans
ranked equally with the dukes of Burgundy or the counts
of Flanders. Philip remedied this, by appointing twelve
great peers, or rather by pretending that such a number
had always existed since the twelve paladins of Charle-
magne. Of these, six were clerics, six laics; the latter
being the dukes of Normandy, of Aquitaine, of Bur-
gundy, the counts of Toulouse, Flanders, and Cham-
pagne. This division of the aristocracy in the high
and low nobility, was, however, as yet but nominal ;
the lesser barons still continued to consider themselves
as the peers of the greater, and to have an equal voice
in the royal courts. It is important for the reader to
mark the rise of this feudal institution, and equally so
to mark the difference of its fate and progress in France
and in England. In the former country, the parle-
ment became amalgamated with lawyers, and preserved
fo the last its judicial functions, whilst its legislative
authority became but a shadow. In England, on the
contrary, it guarded the more precious privilege of legis-
1204. PHILIP AVGUSTUS. 53
lation, abandoning a considerable portion of its judicial
rights.
By the discomfiture of John, Philip Augustus united
to the monarchy of France not only Normandy, but the
provinces of Maine, Anjou, Touraine, and Poitou. Artois
he had acquired as the dowry of his wife, Isabella of
Hainault. The counties of the south remained still in-
dependent of his sway. They looked to the king of
Aragon as their suzerain ; and there existed far more
congeniality of feelings and habits betwixt the Spaniards
and Provencals, than betwixt the Provencals and French.
Certain events of the reign of Philip, which we are about
to relate, destroyed the independence of the people of the
south, as well as their connection with the Aragonese,
and extended the authority of the French monarch to
the Mediterranean and the Pyrenees.
Whilst Philip Augustus adroitly wrested Normandy
and its dependencies from the hands of John, a series of
events took place in Languedoc, which had the effect of
destroying its independence, and of bringing that fine
region not only nominally, as it had hitherto been, but
really under the dominion of the kings of France. The
countries bordering on the Mediterranean had ever been
foremost in the path of civilisation. They were still so.
The inhabitants of that part of France so situated far
surpassed their northern neighbours in refinement, in
enlightenment, and wealth. A thriving commerce was
the chief source of these advantages, joined with the
municipal liberty, which they enjoyed even to a greater
degree than countries around them. The towns were
governed by consuls, like those of Italy; and, being freed
from either papal or imperial pretensions, were far more
tranquil than the republics of that land. The feudal lords
lived in amity with the bourgeoisie, and shared its wealth;
communicating at the same time to the middling ranks
no small portion of their own chivalrous spirit. Little
agitated, at least for that age, by the tumults and conten-
tions of war, the Provencals gave thems'elves to the cul-
tivation of those intellectual employments which wealth
E 3
54 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1204.
and leisure, peace and a fine climate, suggest. In their
valleys the muse of modern times had taken birth. They
were the first poets of modern tongues. Nor did the
troubadours confine their strains to the celebration of
heroic deeds or the pleadings of love ; they were
moralists and satirists, and undertook to lash as well as
to amuse the age. The church was the chief object of
their alternate ridicule and resentment. Dante and
Petrarch, as well as our own Chaucer, afford samples of
this spirit. They exclaimed against the licentious lives
of the clergy; rallied them on their rigid upholding of
abstract dogmas, and their lax observance of moral ones.
The troubadours stood forth as the asserters and avengers
of common sense. And thus the earliest of modern poets
perhaps merit the honour of being esteemed the first
reformers.
The speculations of the theologian and the scruples
of the devout soon came to swell a passing disgust into
permanent dissent. A numerous sect sprang up in
Languedoc, which, abjuring much of the corrupt mo-
rality and absurd tenets of the Romish church, was led
of course to deny the authority of the pope and of his
priesthood. For a long time the Holy See seemed not
alive to the importance of this sect. It was pope Inno-
cent III. who first perceived its dangerous tendency,
and who took certain steps for its destruction. He issued
interdicts against such princes as should favour them,
and offered the spoil of the heretic to whoever should
subdue and slay him. The principal lord of the south
of France was at that time Raymond VI. count of
Toulouse ; and he at least tolerated the Albigenses, as
those primitive reformers were called, aware of their
moral purity and sincere devotion. Peter of Castelnau,
the pope's legate, reproached the count of Toulouse with
his want of zeal, and was indignant at his forbearance
to extirpate the new opinions by fire and sword. The
legate used no measured language ; he not only excom-
municated Raymond, but insulted him in his court,
and then took his departure. The count of Toulouse
1209- CRUSADE AGAINST THE ALBIGEXSES. 55
expressed his indignant feelings before his followers as
Henry II. did after the insolence of Thomas-a-Becket,
and with the same fatal effect. On the day after, Peter
of Castelnau fell under the dagger of a gentleman of
the count's, in a hostelry on the Rhone, where he had
stopped.
Pope Innocent was driven to transports of rage on
learning the assassination of his legate. He not only
excommunicated the count of Toulouse, but promulgated
a crusade against him. He called on all the nobles of
France, on its princes, and its prelates, to join in the holy
war, to assume the cross, as being engaged against infi-
dels. And the same privileges and indulgences were
granted to the crusader of this civil war, that previously
were bestowed on those who embarked fortune and life
in the perilous attempt to rescue the Holy Land from
the Saracen. Spoil, wealth, and honour in this world,
together with certain salvation in the next, were now
offered at too cheap a rate to be refused. Crowds of
adventurers flocked to the standard; and a formidable
army was assembled at Lyons in the spring of 1209,
under the command of the legate commander, Amalric
abbot of Citeaux. The pope at the same time created
a new ecclesiastical militia for the destruction of heresy.
The order of St. Dominick, or of the friars inquisitors,
was instituted; and these infernal missionaries were let
loose in couples upon the hapless Languedoc, like blood-
hounds, to scent their prey and then devour it.
Raymond count of Toulouse had neither the force
nor the courage to oppose so formidable an invasion. He
repaired to the crusader's army, delivered up his fort-
resses and cities, and suffered the humiliating penance
of a public flogging in the church of St. Giles. The
count's relative and feudatory, Raymond Roger viscount
of Beziers and Carcassonne, regions infected with the
heresy of the Albigenses, came also to make submission.
The abbot of Citeaux, who was prudent enough to accept
that of the count of Toulouse, feared to lose all his prey.
He refused to admit the exculpation of the viscount of
E 4
56 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1209.
Beziers, and plainly told him that his only chance was
to defend himself to the utmost. The young viscount
courageously accepted the advice. He summoned the
most faithful of his vassals, abandoned the open country
as well as towns of lesser consequence to the enemy, and
restricted his efforts to the defence of Beziers and of
Carcassonne. He shut himself up in the latter. The
fury of the crusaders first fell upon Beziers: they had
scarcely sat down before the unfortunate town, when a
sally of the garrison was repulsed with such vigour that
the besiegers entered the town together with the routed
host of the citizens. Word of this unexpected success
was instantly brought to the abbot of Citeaux, and his
orders were demanded as to how the innocent were to
be distinguished from the guilty. " Slay them all," ex-
claimed the legate of the vicar of Christ ; " the Lord
will know his own." The entire population was in
consequence put to the sword; nor woman nor infant
was spared. Upwards of 20,000 human beings perished
in the massacre the sanguinary first fruits of modern
persecution. Carcassonne was next invested, bravely
attacked, and as valiantly defended; the young viscount
distinguishing himself in defence of his rights, while
Simon de Montfort earl of Leicester was the most pro-
minent warrior of the crusaders. At length the legate
grew weary of the viscount's obstinacy, and offered him
terms. He gave him a safe-conduct, sanctioned by his
own oath and that of the barons of his army. Raymond
Roger came with 300 of his followers to the tent of the
legate. " Faith," said the latter, " is not to be kept with
those who have no faith ;" and he ordered the viscount
and his friends to be put in chains. The inhabitants of
Carcassonne found means to fly. In a general assembly
of the crusaders, the lordships of Beziers and Carcassonne
were given to Simon of Montfort, in reward of his zeal
and valour ; and to make the gift sure, it was accom-
panied with the person of his rival. The unfortunate
viscount, the victim of the legate's perfidy, soon after
perished in prison.
1217- 8IMON DE MONTFORT. 5?
The victory of the crusaders was of course followed
by executions at the stake and on the scaffold. The
friars inquisitors of the order of St. Dominick did not
relax their zeal. A general revolt against De Montfort
was the consequence, in which the people of Toulouse
joined. The Provencal army was headed by Peter king
of Aragon, the uncle of the late viscount of Beziers. It
was he who had persuaded the unfortunate viscount to
trust himself to the legate, and to him in consequence
fell the duty of taking vengeance. The cross, however
the profaned cross was still successful. The Provencals
were routed by Simon de Montfort at the battle of Muret,
and the king of Aragon was slain. This victory seemed
to establish the power of De Montfort in Languedoc.
He took possession of all the provinces of his rival, even
of the town of Toulouse ; and an assembly of prelates
sanctioned the usurpation. But the cruel spirit of De
Montfort would not allow him to rest quiet in his new
empire. Violence and persecution marked his rule ; he
sought to destroy the Provencal population by the sword
or the stake, nor could he bring himself to tolerate the
liberties of the citizens of Toulouse. In 1217 the
Toulousans again revolted, and war once more broke out
betwixt count Raymond and Simon de Montfort. The
latter formed the siege of the capital, and was engaged
in repelling a sally, when a stone from one of the walls
struck him and put an end to his existence. The death
of De Montfort was of course considered a martyrdom
by the clergy, and his fame in their chronicles far out-
shines that of Godfrey of Bouillon or of Richard the
Lion-hearted.
King Philip was in the mean time pursuing his
darling object, the humbling the power of the princes of
England. He had already driven John from the west
of France. That monarch, at variance with his barons,
and at the same time excommunicated by the church,
seemed an easy prey to Philip. The French king me-
ditated the conquest of England. He leagued with the
malcontents of that country, and formed a powerful
58 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1214.
army for the purposes of invasion. John, to ward off
the blow, not only became reconciled to the Roman see,
but made himself and his kingdom feudatory to the pope.
A papal legate immediately took John under his pro-
tection ; and the French monarch, rather than risk a
quarrel with the church, turned his armies towards
Flanders, which he wasted and plundered impitiably,
from hatred to its count. The emperor Otho, then in
alliance with king John against France, came to the
relief of the Flemings ; and thus, for the first time
since the accession of the new dynasty, the armies of
France and Germany found themselves arrayed against
each other in national hostility, each commanded by its
respective monarch. The rival hosts met at Bouvines,
in the month of August 1214. Twenty thousand com-
batants on either side, together with the presence of two
monarchs, gave gravity and importance to the action.
It was sharply contested. Wherever the armed knight
met the comparatively defenceless burgess the latter
was defeated ; the militia of the commons had not yet
acquired discipline and hardihood sufficient to compete
with the iron-clad warriors of the aristocracy. It was
thus the cavalry of Otho broke through a band of mi-
litia, and reaching king Philip, threw him from his horse,
and would have killed him, but for the excellence of his
armour and the devotion of several brave followers. The
emperor Otho, on his side, encountered equal peril from
the French knights, and escaped with difficulty from
the field. The rebel counts of Boulogne and Flanders
both were made prisoners. The army of Philip gained
a complete victory. Bouvines was the first important
battle of the monarchy ; the first in which the king
appeared in his place, at the head of his barons, leading
them on to conquest. It materially increased the dig-
nity and authority of the French king ; whilst, to Philip
Augustus personally, it brought not only its just meed
of praise, but an exaggerated portion of renown.
The brilliant success of Bouvines seems to have con-
tented and allayed the hitherto restless ambition of
1223. DEATH OF PHILIP AUGUSTUS. 59
Philip. In a year or two after, the barons of England,
discontented with John, offered their crown to Louis,
the son of Philip Augustus. The old monarch hesi-
tated ; he dreaded the anathema with which the pope
threatened him, if he attacked his vassal, John of Eng-
land. Prince Louis was obliged to undertake the ex-
pedition with but scanty aid from his parent. He was
at first successful. Almost all England owned his so-
vereignty. The castle of Dover alone held out. But
the death of John, which took place during the siege,
and the proclaiming of his son, Henry III., soon
obliged the French prince to abandon his claim and his
conquests in England.
In the south, Philip Augustus showed himself equally
dead to enterprise and lost in spirit. Amaury de Mont-
fort, son of Simon, offered to cede to the king all his
rights in Languedoc, which he was unable to defend
against the old house of Toulouse. Philip hesitated to
accept the important cession, and left the rival houses to
the continuance of a struggle carried feebly on by either
side. He at length expired, in 1223, after a reign of
forty-three years. This period of half a century was
one of uninterrupted progress to the French monarchy,
and to its sovereign power. Though much of this was
due to the age, to circumstances, and to the natural de-
velopment of the country's political system, still much
remains due to the personal character of Philip, to his
activity, his prudence, foresight, and courage. The
mere list of the provinces which he subdued and united
to the monarchy forms the fittest monument to his fame.
These were Normandy, Maine, Anjou, Touraine, and
Poitou, wrested from John ; Picardy and Auvergne,
won in the commencement of his reign ; Artois, acquired
by his marriage with Isabella of Hainault ; and, finally,
the influence over Languedoc which the crusaders
brought him, and which nothing but Philip's age and
declining strength prevented him from converting into
sovereignty. In minor matters the active spirit of
Philip Augustus equally displayed itself. He put the
G'O HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1223.
police on an efficient footing ; he walled and paved
Paris and the principal towns under his sway ; he
built and fortified ; he encouraged literature by the
foundation of professorships ; improved the discipline of
the array ; and, with all his enterprises and expenses,
so ordered his finances as to leave a considerable trea-
sure at his death.
When Louis VIII. succeeded his father Philip on the
throne, it was remarked with joy by the lovers of le-
gitimacy, that he was descended by his mother, Isabella
of Hainault, from Charles of Lorraine, the last prince
of Charlemagne's blood, and that he thus united the
rights of Carlovingian and Capetian. He was feeble
in person, and is said not to have been endowed with
much capacity ; but the sage policy of Philip Augustus,
together with the impulse he had given to affairs, con-
tinued to direct them, and to render France triumphant
over her enemies. Henry III. lost the towns of Niort
and La Rochelle, and was driven by Louis from Poitou ;
yet so little did the English feel the loss of this province,
that it is scarcely noticed by the historians of the island.
The barons were so much occupied with jealousy of
their sovereign and of his power, that Henry could pro-
cure or send no aid to his French provinces. A feeble
expedition was at length fitted out, which preserved
Gascony to England, but recovered no part of the lost
province.
A singular cause of contention arose about this time
in Flanders. Baldwin, its last count, had been one of
the leaders of that crusade, which, in the commence-
ment of the century, took Constantinople from the
Greeks. He had been elected emperor of the East, and
had been the first of the Latin dynasty which reigned
over that city. Soon after, in the year 1205, he had
been taken prisoner by the Bulgarians, and had not since
been heard of. His daughter Jeanne succeeded to the
county of Flanders, and had married Ferrand, who had
opposed Philip Augustus, and who was taken prisoner
by that monarch at the battle of Bouvines. Jeanne
1226. SIEGE OP AVION OX. 6l
took no steps to liberate her husband, or to pay his ran-
som, when an aged man appeared in Flanders, calling
himself count Baldwin, and giving an account of his
long captivity and recent escape from the Bulgarians.
Jeanne denied the identity of this person with her father ;
Louis VIII. was of the same opinion ; while Henry III.
treated and allied with him as the veritable Baldwin.
The self-entitled count appeared before king Louis at
Peronne, offering proofs of his identity ; but unfortu-
nately he could not recall the place where he had done
homage to Philip Augustus, nor the place where he had
been knighted, nor yet the place and day of his mar-
riage. Whether he really could not make answer to
these questions, or whether age had troubled his me-
mory, the old man was condemned as a pretender, and
the countess Jeanne soon after caused him to be hanged.
The common people still persisted in giving credit to his
identity with count Baldwin, and looked on Jeanne as
the murderer of her father. Henry III. in no way sup-
ported this his unfortunate ally.
The sovereignty over Languedoc was still undecided.
King Louis was anxious to undertake a crusade in that
country, with all the indulgences and advantages of a
warlike pilgrimage to the Holy Land. The hostilities
with England and the fickleness of the pope delayed
the execution of this purpose. Both obstacles were re-
moved at length. Amaury de Montfort being driven
from the conquests of his father by the sons of count
Raymond, re-animated the zeal of the pope and the old
crusaders. Amaury retired to Paris, and made cession of
his claims to king Louis, who, in return, promised him
the office of constable. A new crusade was preached
against the Albigenses ; and Louis marched towards
Languedoc at the head of a formidable army in the
spring of the year 1226. The town of Avignon had
proffered to the crusaders the facilities of crossing the
Rhone under her walls, but refused entry within them
to such an host. Louis, having arrived at Avignon,
insisted on passing through the town : the Avignonais
Gl- HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1229-
laid, in the thirteenth century, the firmest foundations
of absolute power.
The French nobles were not yet reconciled to their
new state of dependence and subordination. The present
seemed a favourable opportunity for recovering their
influence. Louis IX. had not reached the age of twelve.
His mother, Blanche of Castile, assumed the regency.
A woman and a minor did not seem formidable enemies;
but Blanche was a person of capacity and firmness : all
their efforts proved unavailing against her. Peter duke
of Britany, surnamed Mauclerc, was the enemy that gave
her most trouble. Theobald count of Champagne was
another; a young knight of more gallantry than firmness.
He professed a tender and chivalresque devotion towards
queen Blanche, which some chroniclers have maliciously
construed. And certainly his conduct was capricious as
a lover now rising in insurrection and anger, the next
at the feet of the queen in abject submission, deserting
Peter of Britany and his other allies. These civil wars
led, however, to few important consequences. The ter-
mination of the war with the Albigenses, and the pacific-
ation, or it might be called the acquisition, of Languedoc,
was the chief act of queen Blanche's regency.
Louis VIII. had over-run the country without re-
sistance in his last campaign ; still, at his departure,
Raymond VII. again appeared, collected soldiers, and
continued to struggle against the royal lieutenant. For
upwards of two years he maintained himself; the atten-
tion of Blanche being occupied by the league of the
barons against her. The successes of Raymond VII.,
accompanied by cruelties, awakened the vindictive zeal
of the pope. Languedoc was threatened with another
crusade ; Raymond was willing to treat, and make con-
siderable cessions, in order to avoid such extremities.
In April, 1229, a treaty was signed: in it the rights of
De Montfort were passed over. About two thirds of the
domains of the count of Toulouse were ceded to the king
of France ; the remainder was to fall, after Raymond's
death, to his daughter Jeanne, who by the same treaty
1242. MARRIAGE OP THE PRINCES. 65
was to marry one of the royal princes : heirs failing them,
it was to revert to the crown. On these terms, with the
humiliating addition of a public penance, Raymond VII.
once more was allowed peaceable possession of Toulouse,
and of the part of his domains reserved to him. Al-
phonse, brother of Louis IX., married Jeanne of Tou-
louse soon after, and took the title of count of Poitiers;
that province being ceded to him in apanage. Robert,
another brother, was made count of Artois at the same
time. Louis himself married Margaret, the eldest daugh-
ter of Raymond Berenger count of Provence. Though
the king had nearly reached the age of one and twenty,
still queen Blanche was not less strict in her tutelage.
The young spouses were not allowed freely to enjoy each
other's company, and many of their meetings were
obliged to be stolen ones. Louis had been reared with
almost monkish rigidity, not only in reverence of re-
ligion and performance of its duties, but in the whole
conduct and views of life. Many dispositions might
have rebelled against this irksome discipline, and com-
pensated it by an unprincipled and licentious manhood.
Louis IX., however, remained unchanged. The same
rigid principle and sentiments, imbibed in childhood,
continued to regulate his acts and life, and obtained for
him the title of Saint Louis, by which he is more gene-
rally known.
The last of his barons that resisted the French king
was Hugh of Lusignan count de la Marche. He had
married Isabel, widow of king John of England, and
mother of Henry III. When Louis accompanied his
brother Alphonse to his county of Poitiers, and sum-
moned his vassals of these regions to attend his court
and do the customary homage, the dowager queen of
England felt mortified at thus being reduced to act a
subject's part. .She instigated her husband to rebel;
and the French princes, who had reached Poitiers in
perfect confidence, were obliged to sign a' disadvantage-
ous treaty ere they were allowed to escape. The count
de la Marche, elated by his success, formally renounced
VOL. I. F
66 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1243.
his allegiance to Louis, formed a league of nobles, and
called on Henry III., his step-son, to support him. That
monarch did come with an army to his defence, whilst
Louis advanced to chastise the refractory vassal. The
two kings met on the banks of the Charente, at a castle
called Taillebourg, which commanded a bridge over the
river. Some negotiations went forward : and it appears
that the English, afraid of being surprised or betrayed,
abandoned the post in a panic and fled. They were
pursued by Louis, on the following day, to Saintes. A
battle ensued, in which Henry III. and the count de la
Marche were defeated. The latter, as well as his proud
wife, was compelled to submit to the conqueror. The
count of Toulouse had also been engaged in this re-
bellion : he submitted in time, however ; as did ah 1 the
great vassals, on learning the victory of Saintes.
Another marriage completed for the royal family the
acquisition of the south. A considerable portion of it
obeyed Raymond Berenger, as count of Provence. He
had no male heirs. Of his five daughters, the eldest
was queen of France; another queen of England.
Jealous of having his patrimonial country swallowed up
in a great kingdom, Raymond Berenger, by testament,
constituted his youngest daughter, Beatrix, his heir. It
was arranged that she should espouse Raymond count
of Toulouse, who would thus restore the fallen grandeur
of his house, and unite all the south beneath his sway.
These plans of Raymond were frustrated. Count Ray-
mond Berenger died unexpectedly. Charles count of
Anjou, Louis IX.'s youngest brother, became a suitor
of Beatrix, and advanced with an army to woo. Louis
seconded him. The Provencals, dreading more the enmity
of France than that of the count of Toulouse, favoured the
pretensions of the young prince ; and Charles, with the
hand of Beatrix, secured to himself the county of Provence.
Louis IX. was in the mean time diverted from plans
of policy and domestic aggrandisement. In the year
1244, he fell seriously ill at Pontoise, and was reduced
to the last extremity. Some of his attendants deemed
1244. BATTLE OF GAZA. 67
him already dead. He recovered, however; and his
first words were a vow to take the cross and lead a
crusade against the infidels. No entreaties could dis-
suade him from this resolve ; and while yet on his bed
of sickness he received the cross from the bishop of
Paris. The events of the East were indeed such as to
call for the sympathy and aid of all Christian knights.
It was at this period that the Moguls had left the pas-
turages of Tartary, to over-run and spoil the nations of
the West. They had invaded Muscovy, Poland, and
had even penetrated into the dominions of the emperor
Frederic. The Greek empire was equally menaced by
them. The Khorasmians, a nation driven by the Mo-
guls from the east of the Caspian, and fleeing from their
conquerors, as the Goths from the Huns of old, flung
themselves upon Syria. The Saracens and the Chris-
tians of Syria leagued against the barbarians ; the cres-
cent and the cross fought for the first time in alliance;
it proved unfortunate. The Khorasmians defeated their
opponents on the plain of Gaza. More ruthless than
Saladin, they almost entirely destroyed the Knights
Templars and Hospitallers, and massacred all the
Christians of Jerusalem. Europe, during these re-
verses of her creed and sons, was convulsed with the
quarrel betwixt pope Innocent and the emperor Frederic.
The latter was most eager to fly to the relief of the
Holy Land ; but the pontiff, bent on his own selfish
schemes, his own views, and the church's aggrandise-
ment, was deaf to all offers and treaties of accommo-
dation. He sought to draw Louis into his party against
the emperor, and even undertook a journey to France
for that purpose ; when the illness and piety of the king
bound him in a vow, which he resolved not to neglect,
even for the exhortations or dispensations of the father
of the faithful.
The mind of Louis was henceforth bent on the cru-
sade, and the preparatives necessary. He made peace
with Henry III., formed alliances with all neighbouring
princes, and offered to restore any possessions that the
p 2
68 HISTORY OF FKANCE. 1248.
crown had usurped. He induced the greater number of
his turbulent barons to accompany him; Peter of Britany
amongst the rest, the count of Toulouse, and Thibaud
count of Champagne, who, by inheritance, had become
king of Navarre. Thibaud, or Theobald, had not long
returned from an unfortunate crusade, which he had led
into the East : with him went his vassal Joinville, the
well known historian of St. Louis. The good king spared
no pains to enlist followers; he had even recourse to arti-
fice for that purpose, being necessitated to it by the decay
of that devotional and chivalresque zeal which alone had
furnished so many thousands to the early enterprises of
the kind. At Christmas it was the custom of great lords
to distribute new dresses to their followers; from whence
comes the word livree, livery. Louis prepared a great
number ; and inviting his courtiers to attend mass with
him before daybreak, mantles were distributed to them
previously. When day broke, and the sun's rays illu-
mined the church, each person was surprised, on looking
at his new mantle, to discover that the badge of the
cross was attached. They were ashamed to tear off the
sacred symbol, and thus found themselves tricked into
the warlike pilgrimage by the devout humour of the
monarch.
In August, 1248, Louis sailed from Aigues Mortes,
a port that himself had founded. He directed his course
to Cyprus, where Henry 'of Lusignan reigned, and
reached it in four and twenty days. The island was
the general rendezvous of the crusade. Louis wintered
there, collecting information, and forming plans for his
future campaign.
Instead of disembarking in Palestine, Louis formed
the project of attacking Egypt. The most powerful of
the Saracen chiefs reigned at Cairo. Syria, to use a
baronial expression, was in reality but a fief held under
the soldan of Egypt. To attack the latter was to aim
at the head, and to give the most deadly blow to Ma-
hometan power. In June, 124O, the crusading force,
filling 1800 vessels, mere boats we must suppose many
1249- BATTLE OP MAXSOURAH. 69
of them, bearing nearly 3000 knights, with their war-
like and domestic suites, sailed from Cyprus. Their
first misadventure was to be assailed by a tempest, and
separated. Louis, however, arrived with a certain por-
tion of the fleet off Damietta. There was a show of
resistance. Many were against disembarking, but the
French king would not remain on board ; he sprang
ashore, himself among the foremost, to withstand the
charge of the Saracen cavalry, and routed them. Da-
mietta was found to be evacuated, and was occupied on
the following day.
The great object of the crusaders was the seizure of
Cairo, the soldan's capital, styled Babylon by the monk-
ish writers of the day. The rise of the Nile, however,
kept them for many months inactive at Damietta. It
was not until November that they began their march.
The lassitude endured under that burning climate caused
them to linger, and another month elapsed ere they reach-
ed Mansourah, not many leagues up the Nile. Here was
a canal or river to cross, called the Thanis. The Sara*
cens defended the passage; wooden fortifications were
raised on both sides ; but the crusaders suffered infinitely
more than their enemies, from the Greek fire with which
the latter assailed them. To the great joy of the French
a ford was discovered. King Louis's brother, Robert
count of Artois, passed it the next day. He took the
Saracens by surprise, routed them, and in the heat of vic-
tory pursued them rashly into the town of Mansourah.
Their chief was killed ; but in the narrow streets and em-
barrassed passages the Egyptians rallied. The count of
Artois, lord Salisbury, and Robert de Vere, who carried
the banner of England, were here slain : the grand master
of the Temple lost an eye. A thousand knights perished
in the rout, amongst whom were almost ah* the English.
After this defeat the project of advancing on Cairo was
abandoned. To retreat was equally difficult. A pesti-
lence seized on the army, and paralysed it. Ah 1 that
was left to the pious monarch to perform were his
prayers.
F 3
70 HISTOKY OF FRANCE. 1254-
The retreat to Damietta was commenced after Easter,
but it was found impossible to accomplish it, so closely
were they pressed. In a few days the army and its chief
were prisoners. Every Christian under the rank of
knighthood had to choose between apostasy or death.
Such was the untoward consequence of a war under-
taken for the propagation of religious belief.
Another circumstance came to complicate the king's
disaster. The Mamelukes grew suddenly jealous of their
young sultan. He favoured his French prisoners, and
they suspected him of seeking to reserve their ransom to
himself. They conspired, attacked him in a tower,
and pursuing him thence into the Nile, where he had
flung himself, massacred him before the eyes of the
French. One of them tore out the victim's heart, and
presented it to the king, asking a reward for having
slain his enemy. This increased the difficulties of an
accommodation; but it was at last effected. Louis
restored Damietta as the price of his own ransom, pro-
mised 400,000 livres as that of his followers : the count
of Poitiers remained hostage for the fulfilment. A truce
was agreed on for ten years.
Louis, after his delivery, sailed for Palestine, deter-
mined to see his barons free ere he quitted the Levant.
The obligation of his vow held him also, perhaps, as
well as the shame of returning with the news of so dis-
astrous an expedition. Four years Louis sojourned in
Palestine, endeavouring to effect by policy that which he
had failed to accomplish by arms. He fortified Acre,
Sidon, Jaffa, and other principal towns held by the Latins.
He negotiated with the Arabs, and laboured to reconcile
the differences betwixt the chiefs of Syria. At length,
on learning the death of his mother, queen Blanche, who
had been regent in his absence, he sailed from Pales-
tine, arriving in France during the autumn of the year
1254. It was remarked, that amidst all the joy and
congratulations of his return, Louis preserved the aspect
of profound melancholy ; he would not admit of consol-
ation, listen to music or to gaiety. He still retained on
1254. TUB PASTOUREAVX. 71
his habit the symbol of a crusader; thus marking that he
considered his vow as unaccomplished. He reproached
himself with the ill success of his expedition, as with a
crime.
The love and respect borne by his people to Louis
were not diminished by his reverses ; on the contrary,
his captivity excited general sympathy. The ardour to
avenge his indignities upon the infidel was general.
The devout opinions of that age, which saw the imme-
diate hand of Providence in every event, distributing
good fortune as the reward of piety, and disaster as the
punishment of infidelity, at once attributed the failure
of the crusade to the profligate lives of. the barons and
clergy. Both were considered unworthy to advance the
cause of heaven. It was for the innocent and the hum-
ble, for those untainted with the vices of the time,
luxury, avarice, violence, and pride, to come forth and
support the standard which they did not disgrace. The
same idea had formerly prevailed, when many thousands
of children were collected in a kind of crusading expe-
dition, and perished miserably. Shepherds were now
the class looked to as the fittest to recruit a divine army.
Numbers of these assembled, and were joined by the poor
and idle of all kinds.
Their first purpose was to combat the infidel and
rescue Louis. But the Pastoureaux, as they were called,
soon abandoned the conquest of the Saracen for the plun-
der and abuse of their betters at home. Their fanaticism
naturally adopted the popular tone of hatred to the
clergy, and distaste of their creed and yoke, which has
ever existed a smouldering fire, always quenched with
blood, at least in France, though never to utter extinc-
tion. MTienever the people rose by insurrection to
enjoy the free utterance of their opinions, these were
found to resemble the religious and political heresies of
the unfortunate Albigenses. By the measures of queen
Blanche, the Pastoureaux were exterminated, and their
chief slain as he was preaching publicly in the capital.
The death of Raymond count of Toulouse was another
72 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1254.
event that took place during the absence of Louis. The
king's brother Alphonse, who had married Jeanne, suc-
ceeded to the peaceable possession and dignity of the
counts of Toulouse. Thus two of the royal princes
divided the south betwixt them : Charles of Anjou pos-
sessing Provence, or the eastern portion bordering on the
Rhone ; Alphonso the western. They united their forces
in a war against the free cities of their region. Avignon
was reduced, and Aries; Marseilles itself submitted:
but it does not appear that any were harshly treated, or
deprived of their privileges and franchises.
The remainder of St. Louis's reign is marked by few
incidents, although it forms the most important epoch in
the legislative history of France. The monarch, as he
advanced in years, became still more absorbed in reli-
gious views and scruples. He came to have no other
maxim of policy than the preservation of his own soul,
and that of his fellow men. He consulted his conscience
rather than his ministers, and preferred its counsels to
those even of prudence or of patriotism. Such un-
worldly policy was likely to lead to most foolish acts.
He had promised, on setting out for the crusade, to
restore all that the kings of France had usurped.
Henry III. of England claimed Normandy and Poitou in
accomplishment of the offer, and Louis for a moment
meditated ceding them : but the impolicy of the act
struck him, as well as its justice. He could not recon-
cile his duties as Christian and as sovereign ; he deter-
mined in consequence to abdicate the throne, and to enter
a cloister. It was with difficulty he was dissuaded from
the resolve, and brought to reign according to less
rigid maxims of political honesty. He made peace, how-
ever, with Henry, and ceded to him the provinces of
Perigord, the Limousin, the Agenois, and a part of
Saintonges. In return Henry abandoned his right to
Normandy and Poitou.
The good sense of Louis in this instance overcame the
absurdity of monastic notions, and prevailed over the nar-
row precepts of his conscience and confessor. His views
1255. LAW OP ST. LOUIS. 73
enlarged ; they opened to the wide prospects of philan-
thropy; and in lieu of confining himself to the observ-
ance of ascetic, I had nearly said of selfish duties, the
monarch gave himself to the more noble task of amelior-
ating the condition of his people. The ttablissemens
of St. Louis, as his laws are called, form the earliest
considerable attempt at legislation in France. The first
of them was directed against the right of priyajgjga^
asserted and practised by the DarOn's. It' established,
after the commission of any crime or act of violence,
forty days of truce to be observed towards the relatives
and friends of the criminal. This obliged the retalia-
tion or vengeance to be personally confined to the of-
fender, and not, as usual, extended to his kin and clan.
This ordinance, known by the name of quarantaine le
rot, was succeeded by the total abolition of the right of
private war. Subsequent monarchs, however, unable to
enforce the latter prohibitions, were content with up-
holding the former. The duel, or judicial combat, was
another relic of barbarism and violence that St. Louis
attacked by his enactments. The legists, his new coun-
sellors, the modern lords of parliament and of the judica-
ture, evidently dictated these ameliorations. Versed in
the pandects and the Roman law, the licence and inde-
pendence of feudal customs were odious to them. They
swept all these away, substituting for intricate rights
and turbulent privileges their own processes and verdicts.
St. Louis has been lauded and censured for having,
through them, undermined the power of the aristocracy,
and for having converted a government, originally feudal
and free, into an absolute monarchy. But Louis, with
all his sagacity, saw not whither his enactments tended.
He issued them more from a love of order, and from
principles of piety, than from any Machiavelian craft or
kingly policy. Even his legal counsellors may share
this exculpation. They did but labour in the spirit of
their calling. What most detracted from the influence of
the barons was net the object of an express law. This
was, chawing away the trying of causes from them and
74 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1255.
their courts to those of the royal judges and the parlia-
ment. It was effected tacitly and gradually. Appeals
were encouraged ; cases in which they were allowed
were extended and multiplied ; and the lower and mid-
dling orders were taught to look to their sovereign for
that impartial justice and protection, which they could
not expect from the very noble with whom they were
perhaps in litigation.
Another of the enactments of Louis showed, what was
still less to be expected of him, his resistance to the
usurpation and pernicious immunities of the church.
Here the hand of the legists is clearly seen, defending
their jurisdiction against that of the clergy, and declar-
ing their law and its royal source independent of the
Holy See, its canons and decretals. In the year 1268,
was published an edict called the Pragmatic Sanction,
which is considered as the foundation of the liberties of
the Gallican church. This declares the right of colla-
tors to benefices, of cathedral churches, and of such
as enjoyed the privilege of electing their superior, to
be independent of the pope ; that all church preferment
and promotion shall be guided by ancient custom, de-
spite of any modern decree issuing from Rome. It
restricts in the same manner the money levied in the
kingdom for the papal treasury. The words of the edict
are simple enough, and moderate ; but in the reading, the
French legists afterwards took care to construe it so as
to oppose and frustrate every attempt at exaction or
usurpation on the part of the Holy See. It is singular
that the most formidable bulwark against the grasping
pretensions of the popedom, should have been raised by
the only monarch of Christendom whose virtues and
piety have placed him on the saintly calendar.
England and France, those restless neighbours, re-
mained at peace during these years. He.nry III. was
engaged in a struggle with his barons, headed by Simon
de Montfort earl of Leicester, a descendant of the con-
queror of the Albigenses. Louis IX. never took advantage
of the weakness of the rival kingdom or monarch, and
1255. NAPLES CONVEYED TO THE HOUSE OF ANJOU. 75
did not interfere except with his good offices. In 1264-,
both parties referred their cause to his arbitration. The
king held his court at Amiens for the purpose, and
patiently heard the pleas on both sides. With all his
sense of justice, it was not, however, to be hoped that a
monarch could give an impartial verdict in a cause
where monarchy and liberty were at issue. Louis de-
cided against the English barons, ordering, that all his
castles and powers should be restored to Henry. This
" equitable sentence," as Hume calls it, was not sub-
mitted to by the barons ; and the civil war in England
was in no wise allayed or terminated by Louis's arbi-
tration.
About the period of the king's departure for the
crusade, Italy and Germany were convulsed by the
deadly quarrel between the pope and the emperor Fre-
deric II. This monarch died soon after at Ferentino.
The pope's enmity was continued against his son Conrad,
who died suddenly in 1254, poisoned, as some suppose.
He left a son, Conradin, then but three years of age, the
last relic of the house of Suabia. Manfred, the natural
son of Frederic, held possession of Naples, and defied
all the efforts of the pope to drive him thence. Innocent
IV. had promised Naples to a prince of Parma, if he
succeeded in subduing Manfred. Alexander IV., his
successor, transferred this promise to Edmund, second
son of Henry III., who contributed all the money he
could raise to the conquest of a new kingdom, at a time
when he could scarcely retain the one over which he
reigned. Manfred, however, was still successful ; and
the pope felt the necessity of raising up a more power-
ful competitor. He despatched an envoy, offering the
kingdom of Naples to St. Louis. The good king would
not consent to usurp the right of the young Conradin ;
but when his brother, Charles of Anjou, whose ambition
was not contented with the country of Provence, lately
acquired by him in marriage, offered himself as the con-
queror and sovereign of Naples, Louis would not inter-
fere. He left Charles to act with his own resources;
76 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1270.
and this prince formed a treaty with the pope to the
effect proposed. A crusade, the usual pontifical resource,
was preached against Manfred ; and a large French
army marched under the united banners of the cross
and of Charles to the conquest of Naples. Manfred, at
the head of his troops, a great number of whom were
Saracens, met his rival in the plain of Grandella. One
, battle decided the war. Manfred bravely perished in
'. the field : Charles of Anjou and the French remained
masters of Sicily and Naples. Such was the commence-
ment of those conquests in Italy, which continued so
long the object of French ambition, and of which the
first brilliant results were always doomed to end in sub-
sequent disappointment and defeat.
TVTiile Christians, calling themselves crusaders, and
'so constituted by the pontiff, were thus engaged in
slaughtering their brethren, tidings arrived that Palestine
had been invaded by the soldan of Egypt ; that Cesarea,
and, at last, Antioch itself, had fallen. Upwards of
100,000 Christians had been put to the sword, or
sold to slavery. Europe was thus periodically frighted
from apathy, and roused to enthusiam and vengeance, by
some fearful calamity in the East. Louis IX. was deeply
moved ; and, despite of his feebleness and age, instantly
undertook to head another crusade. His relatives and
nobles, even the pope himself, endeavoured to dissuade
him; but to no purpose. He employed three years in
preparation. It was in this interval that Naples was
invaded by young Conradin, the last prince of the house
of Suabia. Charles of Anjou advanced to defend his
newly-acquired kingdom, and defeated his rival in battle.
Conradin was taken, and instantly sent by his ruthless
conqueror to perish on the scaffold.
St. Louis embarked with his three sons and a con-
siderable army at Aigues Mortes, in July, 1270. Pales-
tine or Egypt was considered to be the object of the
expedition. The king surprised his followers by de-
claring his intention of disembarking at Tunis. The
l>ious king's object was said to be ; the assurances he had
1270. DEATH OP ST. LOUIS. 77
received of the willingness of the king of Tunis to become
Christian. Charles of Anjou had also an object in con-
quering that district of Africa, which was immediately
opposite to his kingdom of Sicily. Whatever was the
expectation, it was not fulfilled. Omar king of Tunis,
instead of welcoming Louis as an apostle, prepared to
oppose him as an invader. The French effected a land-
ing, however, and in a few days attacked and took what
is called the castle of Carthage. The ancient rival of
Rome still existed as a town, and was defended by two
hundred men. Louis established himself within its walls,
and was soon besieged there by the Tunisians. The
plague, a more formidable enemy than man, at the same
time attacked the French. Numbers of the chiefs of the
expedition fell immediate victims to it. The king and
his sons caught the infection. One of the latter, the
count of Nevers, died. Louis lay twenty-two days ex-
tended on his couch of death, displaying that patience,
piety, and presence of mind, which have given him
in history the mingled character of a great man and a
saint. In his dying moments he caused himself to be
removed from his couch and placed upon ashes. In
this situation he expired.
The character of St. Louis is one of the noblest
that occurs in modern history. He possessed all the
virtues of his age, untarnished by its vices : he was
brave without cruelty or violence, pious without bigotry
or weakness. Although more the hero of the legend
than of romance, he commands our admiration by his
rare disinterestedness, his bold attempt to rule his
actions as a monarch by the rigid maxims of private
honour, and by the great good sense that tempered his
devotion, and that never allowed him to sacrifice hu-
manity or justice to the interests even of that church
which he revered. There was one defect in his cha-
racter, however, rendered more striking when we com-
pare him with another saint and hero, Charlemagne * :
* The fact of Thomas Aquinas dining and being familiar with Louis is
scarcely in contradiction to this censure.
78 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1270.
this was his neglect of letters ; shown not only by the
silence of history as to his reading and acquirements,
but by the fact that the education of his son and suc-
cessor Philip was utterly neglected. Even his monkish
contemporaries found the ignorance of the prince " la-
mentable," and his reign corroborates the assertion.
Robert, the youngest son of St. Louis, was count of
Clermont ; he married the heiress of the county of
Bourbon, and took that title. Although disordered in
his intellect from a blow received at a tournament, he
left a numerous progeny. His descendants succeeded
to the throne of France, which they still occupy, in the
person of Henry IV.
Philip III. or the Hardy, called so apparently from
no other cause than that of having survived the war
and pestilence of Tunis, was still sick when St. Louis
expired. The conduct of the army devolved on Charles
of Anjou, who by a treaty put an end to the war.
Philip journeyed through Italy accompanied by five
coffins, those of his father, brother, brother-in-law,
wife, and son. It was during this journey that Henry,
nephew of Henry III. of England, was assassinated by
Guy de Montfort in the church of Viterbo.
The principal, almost the only, events of the reign of
Philip the Hardy sprung from the rivalry of the royal
families of France and Aragon : that of Castile also
mingled in the quarrel ; but all the circumstances are
far too minute and unimportant to be given. The suc-
cession of the counts of Champagne to the crown of
Navarre has been mentioned. Henry the last king left
a daughter, who, as heiress of that powerful house, was
sought by many competitors; amongst others, by the
prince of Aragon. As yet but a child, her mother fled
with her to the court of France, where being brought
up, she was afterwards married to Philip the Hardy's
son, and thus brought her rich heritage to swell that of
the French crown. The king of Aragon was of course
wroth at this abduction ; and other causes contributed
to aggravate his enmity. France, however, was not the
1282. SICILIAN VESPERS. 79
most vulnerable point for attacking the French. The
followers of Charles of Anjou, since their conquest of
Sicily and Naples, had conducted themselves so as to
excite the discontent and hatred of a vindictive people.
Peter of Aragon received the Sicilian exiles with the
greatest friendship ; amongst the rest, John of Procida,
their chief. He incited these malcontents to avenge
themselves, and promised them his support. John of
Procida passed over to Sicily, where, in the disguise of
a Franciscan friar, he prepared measures of revolt and
vengeance. On Easter day, 1282, when the church bells
sounded for vespers at Palermo, the Sicilians rushed on
all the French they could meet, and massacred them
with every aggravation of cruelty. The same scene was
imitated and repeated all through the island. Eight
thousand French are said to have perished in this mas-
sacre, well known by the name of the Sicilian vespers.
Peter of Aragon soon after arrived in Sicily with a
fleet and army. Charles, who had hurried from Naples
to avenge his countrymen, was compelled to retreat with
the loss of his fleet ; and Sicily was not only lost to the
house of Anjou, but the Aragonese began to pass the
strait and to establish themselves in Calabria. The
anger of the two competitors was not satisfied in the
field ; they exchanged insults and defiances, and chal-
lenged each other to single combat. Bordeaux was fixed
as the rendezvous, and Edward I., a neutral monarch,
was to guard the field, and guarantee the princely duel-
lists from unfair advantage. This chivalresque mode
of settling their differences never took effect ; Edward
refused to sanction it : and although Charles of Anjou
made his appearance at the time and place appointed,
Peter came but to enter his protest and instantly dis-
appear.
Philip the Hardy took up the quarrel of his uncle
Charles. He made immense preparations, resolving to
overwhelm his enemy, and entered Spain with a nu-
merous army. He advanced, however, no farther than
Gerona, which he took, and thence was compelled to
80 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1285.
retreat. A fever, the consequence of disappointment
and fatigue, seized upon Philip, and he expired at Per-
pignan, in October, 1285. The rival princes, Charles
of Anjou and Peter of Aragon, died the same year.
Little is known of the internal state of France or of
its court during the reign of Philip. From Matthew
Paris and Joinville to Froissart, there is a breach in
the succession of chroniclers ill filled up by the dry
pages of William of Nangis. History had, in fact,
outgrown its, ancient scope. Provinces were lost in
kingdoms ; barons and counts in royalty : wars, from
provincial quarrels, became national ones. To compre-
hend this wide field, and follow the march of such
events, became impossible for a monk ; the information
of the cloister no longer sufficed : history henceforward
demanded the pen of the statesman or the warrior ; and
such were not always found, possessed of the leisure
and the learning requisite for the task.
There is, nevertheless, one domestic circumstance of
Philip's reign preserved to us. It seems that he ho-
noured with his peculiar favour Pierre de la Brosse, a
chirurgeon-barber of St. Louis, who became chamberlain
to the king. The ignoble favourite was of course the
object of hatred and jealousy to the court, and to the
queen also, who endeavoured to counteract his influence.
Pierre de la Brosse made use on his side of insinuations
against the queen ; and the king's eldest son Louis dying
somewhat suddenly, poison was whispered to be the
cause. Pierre de la Brosse was the origin of the report
that the queen sought to remove her step-sons, in order
to make room for her own. His boldness or his male-
volence, which, cannot be decided, proved fatal to
the favourite : he was tried by a commission, and hanged
on the common gibbet at Montfaucon.
Philip the Fair, the fourth monarch of his name,
succeeded at the age of seventeen to the vacant throne.
The retreat and disasters of the French army might, at
any other time, have proved most fatal to the monarchy;
but neighbouring kingdoms were not then actuated by
1285. PHILIP THE FAIR. 81
any rivalry towards France. Roclolph of Hapsburg, the
ancestor of the present house of Austria, lately called by
his merits from the humble station of a private knight
to the imperial crown, was busied with establishing his
power and family in the east of Germany. Edward I.
of England, though he showed himself ambitious and
usurping towards the Welsh and Scotch, preserved to-
wards France a kind of paternal forbearance and pro-
tection. Instead of taking advantage of Philip's youth
or misfortunes, he came to Paris to do him homage,
proffered his services as arbitrator to settle the differ-
ences betwixt France and Aragon, and sincerely laboured
to bring about a peace. The causes of quarrel were
complicated, and rendered adjustment so difficult, that
ten years elapsed before a final treaty was concluded.
Charles II. of Naples, son of Charles of Anjou, was a
prisoner to the king of Aragon. Edward induced the
latter to release him on divers conditions, which, though
sworn to solemnly, were of course broken. War con-
tinued, in the mean time, languidly. In conclusion,
Sicily was nominally restored by treaty to the house of
Anjou, but really kept possession of by Frederic of
Aragon, brother of the reigning monarch. Charles of
Naples at the same time ceded his county of Anjou to
Charles of Valois, king Philip's brother, contenting him-
self w r ith Provence and Naples.
Philip the Fair very much resembled his ancestor
Philip Augustus in character. Both having succeeded
young to the throne, entertained a high idea of their
prerogative ; and hence were proud, irritable, over-
bearing, rapacious. Both added craft to violence ; and
whilst they overwhelmed inferiors, they spoiled and
cheated the more powerful by artifice and falsehood.
The two monarchs made use of law as their favourite
weapon : lawyers were the chief counsellors and minis-
ters of Philip the Fair. Philip Augustus redeemed his
habits of crooked policy by valour in the field : the
victory won by him at Bovines procured for him the
name of hero. Philip the Fair was not so successful;
VOL. i. o
82 HISTORY OF FKANCB.
his propensities were those of the statesman rather than
of the warrior.
Notwithstanding the friendly and disinterested conduct
of Edward I. towards France, Philip was jealous of that
monarch. He saw with pain that Edward was rounding
and completing his dominions at home, by the conquest
of Scotland and of Wales. The French king sought to
follow the example; and he accordingly laboured and
intrigued to win the affections of Edward's subjects of
Guienne. Thirty-five years of peace had now existed
betwixt England and France; but points of rivalry,
casual insults, and collisions, could not fail to keep alive
and stir up, from time to time, the natural jealousy of
neighbours and rivals. For some of these causes, true
or pretended, Philip summoned Edward to appear and
answer before the parliament of Paris. The latter,
occupied with the Scotch war, replied more in a tone of
expostulation than of anger. He sent his brother Ed-
mund to Paris to satisfy these griefs. The politic Philip
pretended to be grievously insulted and hurt in his feudal
rights by the insults he had received from the people of
Guienne ; his honour was piqued, as he affected, more
than his interest was concerned. He demanded that one
or two of his officers should be admitted, with merely
nominal power, into the chief towns of that duchy. It
was at the same time proposed, that Edward should
marry Margaret, Philip's sister, and that Guienne should
be the heritage of the offspring of the marriage. Ed-
ward, who sagely valued such a province as Scotland
or Wales far more than those continental ones, which
he was reduced to hold in fief, agreed to these con-
ditions; and, in drawing up the stipulations, was
not keen enough in mistrusting the legal counsellors
of Philip. The consequence was, that missives were
issued for delivering up the chief towns of Guienne to
the French; who were no sooner in possession of them,
than Philip threw off the mask, and, instead of fulfilling
the conditions of the treaty, summoned Edward afresh
to appear before his parliament of Paris. War remained
1297- FLANDERS CONQUERED. 83
as the only alternative : but it was languidly carried on.
Edward was engaged at home with Baliol and Bruce.
The monarch and barons of England had ceased, in a
great measure, to be French. It was on this occasion
that, on Edward's ordering the earl of Hereford to
Guienne, he added, seeing the earl's reluctance, " Sir
earl, by God, you shall either go or hang ! " and Here-
ford replied, " By God, sir king ! I will neither go nor
hang." It had been well for England, if her future
monarchs and nobles had persevered in that disregard of
foreign possessions which marked Edward's conduct as
well as Hereford's. Still the former was not pusillanimous
enough to abandon his rights : he excited continental
princes against Philip, whilst he devoted himself to the
pursuit of his advantageous and peculiar policy at home.
One of Edward's projects was to obtain Philippa,
daughter of Guy de Dampierre count of Flanders, for
his son ; a large dowry, Flanders being then the richest
country in Europe, and a powerful ally would thus be
gained. But Philip intervened with his wonted craft:
he sent word to the count of Flanders, that he should
feel insulted unless Philippa visited Paris on her way to
London ; expressing, at the same time, no objection to
the match. When the daughter of the count of Flan-
ders, however, arrived in obedience to the monarch's
invitation, she was immediately conducted to prison ;
and the English prince was thus baulked of his bride.
The count renounced his allegiance in consequence ; but
Philip, invading Flanders with an army, compelled him
to submit. Finally, he was made prisoner, and the
county of Flanders annexed for the time to the crown.
Philip had leagued with the Scotch, and Edward with
the Flemish ; but both monarchs abandoned their allies
respectively to each other.
Whilst Philip made princes and nobles feel the weight
of his injustice, he was no less oppressive to the com-
monalty from his exactions. Two Florentines, whom
he consulted and trusted as financiers, brought to the
royal employ the arts of private cunning and experience.
o 2
84 nisronv OF FRANCE, 1302.
All foreign merchants were seized in one day, terrified
into paying a large fine, and then banished the kingdom.
The Jews were similarly treated. The contributions
levied on the towns or communes, in which all wealth
now began to concentrate, were swelled by every possible
expedient. This, though a source of great oppression,
might have proved the commencement of public liberty.
The burgesses or tiers 6tat were called to assemble, in
order to give their consent to new taxes. The same
custom began in England about the very same time :
with what different fate and consequences the institution
was attended in the different kingdoms, is known to
every one. The towns of Flanders were far more ad-
vanced than those of France in wealth and independ-
ence ; they were turbulent and jealous under their counts;
and Philip was welcomed at Bruges and Ghent as a de-
liverer. But when the French monarch, or his lieu-
tenant, commenced in his new province the system of
exaction and violence practised in France, the Flemish
rebelled, all the French were massacred at Bruges, and
a grandson of the captive count was called to head the
insurgents. Robert d'Artois marched with the army of
Philip to chastise them. The Flemings posted them-
selves at Courtray, behind a canal. The impetuosity
of the French did not allow them to reconnoitre ; they
charged into the canal ; and in the confusion that ensued,
were put to the rout and slaughtered by the Flemings.
Robert d'Artois himself, and many of the first nobles of
France, perished in the action. This defeat punished
Philip, and took from him all the advantages of his
mean policy. Bordeaux rebelled ; he was obliged to
make peace with England, and restore Aquitaine to
Edward. A serious quarrel with the pope at the same
time came to occupy and trouble him. He afterwards
gained two battles over the Flemings ; but the populous
and stubborn province instantly opposed a fresh army to
Philip. The artizans of Ghent, Bruges, Ypres, and the
other towns, abandoned their callings, " to die in battle,"
as they vowed, " rather than live in servitude." The
1303. POPE BONIFACE SEIZED. 85
French king, thus convinced of the impracticability of
subduing the Flemings, granted them peace, liberating
and acknowledging the son of Guy de Dampierre as
count of Flanders. The river Lys was declared the
boundary of France and Flanders.
The most inveterate enemy of Philip was pope Bo-
niface VIII., Cajetan by name. Pontiff and monarch
were equally haughty, irritable, and possessed with high
ideas of their sovereign power. A tenth that Philip
raised on his clergy without the pope's consent, and a
refusal of the French king to abide by the arbitration of
Boniface betwixt him and England, were the first causes
of rupture. The pope sent a French bishop as legate
to expostulate ; the bishop took the opportunity to insult
his sovereign. Philip in revenge ordered his lawyers
to indict the bishop ; and crimes were soon raked up
wherewith to accuse him : heresy, sorcery, atheism,
those vague crimes so easily imputed and so difficultly
proved, were instantly laid to the prelate's charge. He
was arrested and imprisoned to answer it. The pope
was wroth, and menaced the king with excommunication.
The latter called a council, and commanded his lawyer
favourites to accuse the pope as they had accused the
bishop ; and immediately the same charges of heresy
and infidelity were brought against the pontiff. But
it was difficult to bring the head of the church be-
fore a tribunal of Philip's choosing, or to hope to have
him condemned upon such a mendacious and impudent
accusation. The king, therefore, employed one of his
agents, also a man of law, to excite a conspiracy against
the pope. He united with the Colonnas, levied an
armed troop, and surprised Boniface at his country re-
treat in Anagni. Making themselves masters of his
guards and person, they bound, insulted, and menaced
him. The pontiff bared his neck to their swords, but
they feared to strike ; and even found that to bring him
away captive was impracticable. At length a body of
the faithful subjects of Boniface rose and delivered hira
from the conspirators. The vengeance of Philip was
o 3
86 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1305.
complete, however, despite of this rescue. Boniface died
soon after of a fever caused by the indignities, the
hunger, and privations he had suffered.
The events of the reign of Philip the Fair form but
a series of acts of injustice. He was called the Faux
Monnoyeur, or falsifier of coin, from his continual
tampering with the standard. He frequently ordered
the coin and plate of his subjects to be brought to his
mint, and paid for it in new coin so much debased, that
the marc of silver, from being worth only two livres
fifteen sous, came to be worth eight francs eight sous
of the debased coin. When the king's purpose was
answered, and his engagements discharged, he decried
his own coin. This caused an insurrection in Paris : the
mob attacked the palace of the Temple, where the king
lodged, and menaced his person. But the police had
been too well regulated : the royal archers and ser-
geants dispersed the mob, seized the ringleaders, and
hung them to the trees in and around the capital.
Resentment had carried Philip the Fair, in his attack
upon pope Boniface, far beyond the bounds of prudence.
He dreaded the retaliation and just enmity of a suc-
ceeding pontiff, and laboured with all his might to bring
about an election favourable to France. The king's
crime was, however, viewed with too much horror in
Italy. Benedict XI. was elected pope ; and he pre-
pared to excommunicate those who had attacked Bo-
niface at Anagni. Philip took the alarm, and pope
Benedict was opportunely destroyed by poison adminis-
tered in a plate of figs. A new conclave was summoned,
in which the two parties were found to be equally ba-
lanced in numbers, as well as in violence and hate.
They remained confined, as is the custom until a pope
is chosen. Nine months elapsed without hope of agree-
ment. At length it was arranged that the anti-gallican
party should choose three prelates, and that the oppo-
site side was to select one of the three. Three prelates,
noted enemies to Philip, were designated. Information
of this was despatched to the French monarch. Amongst
1307- THE TEMPLARS DISSOLVED. 87
the three was Bertram! tie Goth, archbishop of Bordeaux :
he was immediately sent for by Philip, who showed
him that he was master of the election, and could ensure
the elevation of the archbishop, provided the latter
would become his partisan. Bertram! de Goth grasped
at the high offer, and refused no terms : he promised to
fulfil five demands that the king made of him, amongst
which one was to condemn the memory of Boniface and
exculpate his assaulters ; and another to grant a sixth,
which Philip reserved the liberty of thereafter specify-
ing. Bertrand de Goth became pope Clement V. in
consequence of this intrigue. To be near his patron
Philip, he fixed the pontifical court first at Poitiers, and
finally at Avignon.
No monarch was more successful or more ruthless in
his revenge than Philip the Fair. His most signal act
of this kind was the destruction of the order of Knights
Templars. History does not inform us of the origin of
the monarch's hatred towards this body ; avarice, the
cause generally assigned, is not sufficient. But there
was a rage at that time for judicial processes ; it was the
fearful amusement of the age, as judicial combat and
tournament had been in more warlike periods. Philip
and his lawyers could not rest without some great cri-
minal prosecution, some mysterious inquest. His object
in seizing pope Boniface had been to drag him before
a council, to accuse, and judge him. The monarch and
his counsellors were disappointed in this ; and they
singled out the Templars, against whom some vague
charges of scandal gave sufficient plea. When the
Templars were despatched, Philip, having no living an-
tagonist to accuse, attacked the dead Boniface with his
lawyers and pleadings.
On the 13th of October, 1307, the Templars were
seized in all parts of France ; the grand master and
sixty knights in Paris : they were thrown into prison,
and all the possessions of the order confiscated. The
most abominable charges were brought against them ;
those of committing the most indecent of crimes, of
G 4
88 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1313.
worshipping a head, spitting on the cross, and avowing
infidelity. Torturing the accused, and promising him
pardon if he confessed, were the chief and only modes
of proof. Many, in order to escape torment, confessed
what their torturers put into their mouths ; and these
avowals were considered conclusive of their guilt. Fifty-
nine Templars were burnt in Paris ; a proportional
number in the provinces. Clement V., in obedience to
Philip, abolished the order.
It is here melancholy to reflect, that the cruel and san-
guinary spirit of barbarism, which the natural progress
of civilisation had been softening from the tenth to the
thirteenth century, should during the latter period have
been re-awakened by the agency of two principles most
averse from violence or blood these are religion and
law. The church, by its persecutions and burnings of
the Albigenses and other heretics* lawyers, by their
adopting the torture and other legal customs of the in-
quisition, as well as by their blind servility to royal power,
accustomed the people to see blood shed juridically for
trifling or for no causes. The great, for the same reason,
came to have still less respect for human life. He who
dared to be the foe or the opponent of a prince expiated
his crime, for such it was considered, with death. The
observance of certain forms of justice seemed to give full
excuse for dispensing with the spirit. The three fol-
lowing centuries of blind law and religious bigotry sur-
pass the times of Brunehaut or Domitian in bloodshed
and violence. Murders and assassinations, hitherto rare,
begin to thicken on us, and the pages of history become
for a long period disgustingly smeared with blood.
The last important act of Philip was his annexing the
town of Lyons to the kingdom of France. The emperor
was the nominal sovereign, the archbishop the actual
ruler. Philip interfered betwixt the latter and the
townspeople, and usurped the sovereignty of the town,
then, as now, the second of the kingdom in importance.
* John XXII. burned hundreds of both sexes for the crime of professing
absolute poverty.
1314. PARLIAMENT AT PARIS. 89
When the venerable James de Molay, grand master
of the Temple, was brought to execution, he was said to
have uttered, amidst protestations of his innocence, a
solemn summons to his chief accusers, king Philip and
pope Clement, to appear before the throne of the Almighty,
one in forty days, the other in the space of a year and a
day. They died within these periods respectively. Philip
expired at Fontainebleau in November, 1314.
Notwithstanding the cruel and crafty character which
the acts of his reign stamp upon Philip the Fair, still
much that is beneficial owes its origin to him. The par-
liament, a court of judicature, was established and fixed
at Paris : personal servitude was abolished by a decree ;
serfs attached to the soil existed, it seems, up to this pe-
riod, in Languedoc. Philip the Fair is generally considered
the founder of the etats gcneraux, or states-general, an
assembly corresponding to the English parliament. He
called them together when preparing to resist pope Boni-
face, and caused each estate to answer the papal bull,
denying the pope's right of supremacy or interference.
He favoured the burgesses of towns, whom he found at
once wealthy and submissive, two qualities that his no-
bles wanted; and his frequent summonses established the
commons as a third estate.
Philip chose his ministers from the lower or middling
classes; selecting those versed in law, the new and chosen
science of the day. The management of the royal
revenues had hitherto appertained to the office of cham-
berlain. Philip appointed a superintendent of finance
in the person of Enguerrand de Marigny. The circum-
stance marks an important change. Of old, kings lived,
like other nobles, on the produce of their domains,
stewards and bailiffs were their most useful officers ; the
barons contributed to the support of the state by mili-
tary service : but now money had come to supersede
service of all kinds. Money was demanded, in lieu of
produce, for rent : money was demanded to carry on
war, rather than knights and men at arms. To raise
money thus continually, and for all purposes, was an
90 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 13l6.
anomaly in the feudal system. It had made no pro-
vision for a yearly budget ; and hence the financial mea-
sures of the monarchs of the time consisted either in ex-
tortion, or in an appeal to the generosity of their subjects.
Philip the Fair left three sons, all of whom reigned in
succession. The eldest was Louis, surnamed Hutin from
his disorderly youth. His reign of two years is almost
unmarked by events. Charles count of Valois, brother
of Philip, held the chief influence over his nephew. He
employed it to destroy Enguerrand de Marigny, minister
of Philip the Fair, whom he accused of malversation
and sorcery, and whom he caused to be hanged upon the
common gibbet. Louis led an army against the Fle-
mings, but was obliged to disband it without a single
action or conquest. The three sons of Philip were un-
fortunate in their wives. It was discovered that all
three had been guilty of adultery. The three princesses
were imprisoned, and their paramours delivered to tor-
ture and death. The wife of Louis was strangled by
his order, to make way for another marriage. Louis
himself died in June, 1316, of a disease caught by
having descended to a cellar to drink wine when heated
by a game at ball.
Philip, the next brother, instantly took possession of the
palace. The lately married queen, however, now a widow,
announced herself with child, and Philip was obliged to
content himself with the title of regent. It was agreed
that he should govern for the infant about to be born,
should it prove a prince ; if birth was given to a princess,
Philip was to assume the crown. The queen brought
forth a son, which died soon after, and is known in the
list of French monarchs as John I. Louis Hutin had
left a daughter ; nevertheless her rights were passed
over. Philip made a compromise with his uncle, the
duke of Burgundy, and caused himself to be crowned
king. This is the first instance of the crown descend-
ing to the exclusion of females, by what is called the
salic law. This maxim was by no means previously
established, known, or understood. Chance, the mature
PHILIP OF VALO1S. 91
age of Philip, the friendless state of the daughter of
Louis, together with the circumstance of her mother's
infidelity, were the true origin of a rule so unique and
important. The salic law was confirmed by a decree
of the states-general, which the new king summoned
for the purpose. The circumstances attending the suc-
cession of Philip the Long are the only important ones
of his reign. He died in January, 1322.
Philip left daughters, but no son. In obedience to
the salic law, that he had himself established, his daugh-
ters were set aside, and Charles IV., or the Fair, the
third son of Philip the Fair, succeeded to his brethren.
His reign of six years is equally a blank, marked only
by the expedition of queen Isabella of England and her
son against the unfortunate Edward II. Charles had
no offspring. Of the fine family left by Philip the Fair
there remained not a male descendant. The people con-
sidered this extinction of his race as a punishment
for the crimes of that monarch. Charles the Fair died
in the commencement of 1328, leaving his queen in a
state to produce an heir. " Should it be a son," ordered
the dying Charles, " let Philip count of Valois, my
cousin-german, be his tutor and the kingdom's regent.
If it be a daughter, let the twelve peers and barons of
France decide to whom the kingdom shall belong."
CHAP. IV.
1328 14,61.
FROM THE ACCESSION OF PHILIP OF VALOIS TO THAT OF
LOUIS XI.
THE thirteenth century was in Europe a period of com-
parative repose. Each nation was for the most part
occupied at home, reconciling discordant interests, strug-
gling to form some kind of system, and developing the
natural resources of commerce and industry. In France
the royal power obtained ascendancy over its rivals, re-
pressing the great feudatories, putting the yoke of its
Q2 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1328.
legal authority over the necks of all, balancing the power
of the nobility in the mass, by calling the commons into
political existence, and securing the co-operation of the
clergy in resisting the encroaching power of Rome. This
rapid growth of despotism was favourable to order, to
wealth, to the external and material part of civilisa-
tion. But it was lamentably deficient in producing in-
tellectual improvement : whilst the turbulent freedom of
the cities of Italy not only allowed the increase of riches
and luxury, but awoke the dormant minds of its child-
ren, so as to give to the world such poets as Dante and
Petrarch, and a proof, perhaps, oi' still greater advance-
ment an historian of sense and judgment such as Vil-
lani, France remained undistinguished by genius or
learning. At the epoch to which we refer, the country
betrayed symptoms of deterioration in more than one
respect : public morals grew more corrupt, as is evident
from the wickedness universally imputed and believed;
crime generated crime, and vice reproduced itself,
prompted by no passion more lively than ignorance. A
stupid and pusillanimous dread of sorcery shed torrents
of human blood. The church burned thousands of
heretics for a logical blunder ; and became itself degene-
rate in purity, and power, and wisdom, from the mo-
ment of its alliance with persecution. The law rivalled
the church in absurd and capricious condemnations. Even
the spirit of chivalry ceased to actuate so base an age : it
expired with the crusades ; and was only reinstated by the
warriors of the next generation.
The period of history that we now enter upon is
marked by the rivalry that sprung up betwixt France
and England. Hitherto their quarrels had been those of
men speaking the same tongue, and actuated merely by
provincial interests ; but between Philip of Valois and
Edward III. the quarrel became national. In the breasts
of both countries it kindled the fire of patriotism and
emulation; and though it infused into the strife a spirit
of bitterness and inveteracy which usually characterises
party dissensions, yet many of the generous effects of
1328. PHILIP vi. 93
chivalry were produced in the characters of those en-
gaged. It is customary to lament wars, and the blood
shed in them ; and yet peace, which comes fraught with
blessings and virtues to those nations that are far
advanced in civilisation, is sometimes pernicious to a
people but half emerged from barbarism. Stagnation is
then most to be dreaded : the virtues of a rude age are
all warlike, or at least war-born. France most certainly
degenerated in public spirit and national character, whilst
unvexed by her neighbour.
The following century of war, though it increased the
trophies of England, was not so wholly disastrous to
France as her historians represent. They see the great-
ness of one country but in the depression of another.
Often as the nation was humbled by defeat, her energies
were still called forth, her chivalrous spirit was kept
alive, her several provinces were knit together and united
by one common bond of feeling. Nothing so ennobles
a land as a valiant struggle for honour or independence ;
the blood that is then shed in the field, is neither idly
nor fruitlessly expended.
Philip of Valois, who succeeded to the French throne,
was the son of Charles count of Valois, who had been
brother to Philip the Fair. The last monarch had left
his queen enceinte; but a daughter having been born,
Philip, acting upon the salic law, assumed the crown
lately worn by his cousin. His chief competitor was
Edward III., son of Isabella daughter of Philip the
Fair. The English monarch's claim, though first sup-
ported by a strong protest, was not insisted on by Isa-
bella, who was too much occupied with enemies in
England to allow of her raising up others abroad : it
was nevertheless considered valid in France, even by
many of the doctors summoned by Philip to decide the
point.* The count d'Evreux, who had married the
94 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1328.
daughter of Louis Hutin, entertained pretensions also.
The kingdom of Navarre was ceded to him in apanage.
Philip of Valois was crowned as king Philip VJ. at
Rheims, in May, 1328. He was a prince devoted to
magnificence and faste. His prodigality and love of
splendour formed such a brilliant court, that even kings
preferred sojourning at it to enjoying the independent
sovereignty of their own realms. The kings of Na-
varre and Bohemia took up their abode in Paris; the
dauphin, or prince of Dauphiny, though a feudatory of
the emperor, preferred following the king of France
both in peace and in war. This conduct of princes,
we may well suppose, was imitated by the aristocracy
in general, who soon came to exchange the solitary
pomp of feudal independence for the show and servility
of a court.
The romances of chivalry came at the same time
into vogue. The monarch and courtiers had need of a
manual of gentility, and precedents for their pompous
ceremonials and solemnities. They found them in these
volumes.
Here then begin the times of the second or resusci-
tated chivalry, which surpassed the old in magnificence
and refinement, if not in valour. One difference in
the spirit of chivalry in this and in the past century
is, that formerly it manifested a lordly contempt for
the ignobly born. The commons, however, had now
risen to wealth and importance, and the nobles were
gradually losing their hold of both : contempt, therefore,
was converted into hatred, and the chevalier regarded
the villein with the jealousy engendered by an unwar-
rantable encroachment on privileges presumed to be
hereditary and exclusive. This was much more the
case in France than in England. Nor did the hostility
which arose out of this mutual antipathy cease to waste
the former country, and to influence its character and its
destinies, till it at length exploded in the tremendous
phenomena of the Revolution.
- At Philip's coronation, Louis count of Flanders at-
1340. WAR WITH FLANDERS. 95
tended as one of the great peers. He demanded the king's
aid against the Flemings, the citizens of Bruges and
Ypres, who insisted on their municipal privileges. Philip,
eager to lead an armry, grasped the opportunity : his
nobles, anxious to tread down the commonalty, seconded
him. He accordingly marched against the Flemings,
who, to the number of 1 6,000, attacked his camp in the
night near Cassel. After the first surprise the French
rallied, surrounded and slaughtered the enemy : 13,000
are said to have fallen in the field, and 10,000 on the
scaffold. The count was re-established by the victory.
Despite the just claim to the crown of France that
Edward III. considered himself to possess, he hesitated
for a long time to enforce it by arms. Philip, embold-
ened by his victory at Cassel, required Edward to come
and do homage for Guienne. The English monarch
obeyed ; nor did Edward, who was prudent as brave,
determine to wage war with the French king, and put
forth pretensions to his throne, till he was prompted
thereto by the advice and aid of Robert d'Artois. This
prince, a descendant of St. Louis, had claimed the county
of Artois. A female heir had, however, been preferred
to him ; and two judgments had so decided the question.
Robert, seeing the salic law prevail with respect to the
throne, thought it must equally apply to a great pro-
vince, and again agitated the matter. It was asserted
that he brought forged documents to support his right ;
that the fraud was discovered, and its author disgraced.
Such is the general account of historians, which Sis-
mondi, however, doubts. Accusation in those days was
seldom confined within limits of moderation or truth.
Of whatever crime a man w r as declared guilty, sorcery
was always added to fill up the measure. Robert was ac-
cused of making against Philip a voute, in other words
a waxen image, which he pricked, tortured, and burn-
ed ; supposing that the consumption of the model would
occasion the destruction of the original. This is the com-
mon crime or accusation of the age. Robert, who refused
to appear, was condemned and exiled. He sought refuge.
96 HISTORY OP PRANCE. 1340.
first in Flanders, then in England, where he was well
received by Edward, and became his counsellor and in-
stigator against France. Causes of quarrel multiplied
betwixt the two countries. Philip favoured the Scotch :
Edward formed an alliance with the Flemish citizens,
whose count was attached to France; more especially with
Artaveldt, a brewer of hydromel or metheglin, one of
their leaders. The Flemings, who carried on a thriving
trade with England, preferred joining that country; but
scruples of allying with a foreign prince against their
feudal lord, the king of France, checked even the licen-
tious citizens. To obviate this difficulty, Artaveldt
advised Edward to assume the title of king of France,
which he claimed as a right. Edward was not backward
in adopting the brewer's suggestion ; an act by which
war was virtually declared.* Notwithstanding the mag-
nitude of the preparations, the first campaign was sig-
nalised by no action or enterprise. Both kings were
paralysed by the greatness of the stake ; and the armies,
which faced each other, separated without coming to
blows. Philip, who had purchased the aid of the Ge-
noese and collected a fleet, burnt and pillaged South-
ampton. Edward gathered a few ships, crowded them
with knights and archers, and sailed in pursuit. He
found the French fleet drawn close to the Dutch shore
near Sluys. He instantly bore down upon it, hooked
vessel to vessel, and by forming the decks into a platform
converted the engagement into one partaking of the cha-
racter of a land fight. After an obstinate struggle, the
French were defeated with immense loss, and their fleet
was destroyed. This was the only engagement of the
war. A truce immediately followed, which was subse-
quently prolonged. The enmity so often regarded as
natural to these two great nations does not yet appear to
have sprung up, and they now seemed to be far more
desirous for repose than swayed by mutual animosity or
ardour for martial enterprise.
Disturbances in Britany meanwhile implicated the
* 1337.
1343. THE ENGLISH RELIEVE BRITANY. 97
monarchs in fresh quarrels. John duke of Britany died
in April, 1341, without children: his second brother
had left a daughter, married to Charles of Blois, Philip's
nephew : another brother, the count de Montfort, was
living and in the flower of his age. The uncle and
niece disputed the succession ; and the uncertain validity
or extent of the Salic law, which each party interpreted
in the manner favourable to themselves, produced another
domestic quarrel. The count de Montfort was first in
the field, and took possession of the chief towns of the
province. Charles of Blois remained in Paris to plead
his cause. De Montfort was summoned, and the court
of peers decided in favour of the king's nephew, Charles.
It was necessary to vindicate this right by arms. Philip
supported Charles of Blois ; De Montfort had recourse
to England, and did homage to Edward as king of France
for his duchy of Britany. The scene of war between
the nations was thus transferred to this province. The
commencement proved unfortunate to De Montfort ; he
was surprised in the town of Nantes by his rival, taken
prisoner, and conveyed to the Louvre. But the countess
de Montfort, who, in the words of Froissart, " had
the courage of a man and the heart of a lion," presented
her infant son to her followers, and promised that he
would prove a generous prince to them, and an avenger
of his sire. She shut herself up in Hennebon, and was
besieged by her enemies. She made a valiant defence ;
and, in a sortie which she headed in person, burnt the
camp of her enemies. The English fleet arrived to her
assistance under Walter de Manny, and compelled the
French to retire : Robert d'Artois soon after landed in
Britany and took the town of Vannes ; but it was re-
taken by De Clisson, and Robert received such severe
wounds that he did not long survive. A truce con-
cluded, in 1343, between Philip and Edward partly
caused hostilities to cease ; it was ill observed by the
Bretons of either party.
The internal administration of Philip in the mean time
resembled that of his predecessors, both in good and in
VOL. I. II
C)8 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1345.
evil : he resisted the usurpations of the clergy, confirmed
the authority of parliament over inferior courts, and
consulted the true interests of the monarchy by the
purchase of Dauphiny. But he oppressed his subjects
by debasing the coin, and by every means of raising
money. It was he who established the gabclle, that
most odious regulation, which reserved to the king the
sole right of making and selling salt throughout the
realm, forcing each family to take a certain quantity at
an exorbitant price. This too he established by an
ordonnance, without having recourse to an assembly of
the states-general. The deference which Edward III. al-
ways manifested to his own subjects, as well as his respect
for their liberties, is contrasted with the contempt shown
by Philip for the body of the nation and its privileges.
During the present truce, the French king decoyed a
number of Breton knights to a tournament, seized upon
them, and executed them without even the form of a
trial, disdaining to assign reason or plea for his conduct.
It was presumed that they had entered into communi-
cation with England.
In 1345 the war again broke out. The earl of Derby
fought in Gascony against the count of Lille- Jourdain ;
the latter besieged Auberoche. The garrison sent a
page to summon the English to their aid ; the poor en-
voy was taken, placed in one of the besiegers' huge
engines, and literally shot back into the town. Derby,
however, came unawares on the French, defeated them,
and made prisoners of the greater part of the nobility
of Languedoc. The death of De Montfort relaxed the
fury of the war in Britany. Edward turned his arms
first to Flanders ; but his ally Artaveldt had lost his
influence over his fellow citizens, and being soon after
slain by them in a tumult, the English king left that
part of the country. The following year Edward mus-
tered his best forces ; resolving no more to harass the
frontiers of the enemy, but to penetrate boldly into his
land, and strike, if possible, a decisive blow. He landed
at La Hogue, took Caen, and was almost incited to
1316. BATTLE or CUECY. 99
massacre the inhabitants on finding that an engagement
hail lately been entered into betwixt the Normans and
Philip to reconquer England. He allowed himself to
be dissuaded. Edward, from Caen, marched along the
left bank of the Seine to Paris ; he stopped at Poissy to
find means for passing the river, and burnt all the towns
in the vicinity of the capital, St. Germain and St. Cloud
amongst others. A body of German auxiliaries having
reinforced Philip, Edward thought it best to retreat
northwards through an unravaged country. The ex-
pedition was one of hazard. Philip was now pursued
by his enemies with a far superior army; numbers were
in advance to intercept the English king, more especially
to prevent his passage of the Somme. Edward, how-
ever, crossed a ford below Abbeville, notwithstanding
the resistance of one of Philip's lieutenants, and the
following day established his camp at Crecy, where he
resolved to await the enemy.
On the morning of the 26th of August, 1346, Ed-
ward drew up his army in three lines on a gentle slope,
with a wood behind, where he placed baggage and
horses. His cavaliers were to fight on foot; as, from the
smallness of the English numbers, " one eighth of the
French," says Froissart, but at most one third, it
was requisite they should keep together and fight on
the defensive. Edward, after riding through the ranks
and exhorting his soldiers, cheerfully commanded them
to sit down, to take ample refreshment, and in repose
await the enemy. Philip in the mean time was leading
forth his numerous host from Abbeville : it was an army
lately gathered, obeying many chiefs, some Genoese,
some Germans; undisciplined, weak, and disorderly, from
its very numbers. From Abbeville to Crecy was a march
of three or four leagues. The hour was late, and the
French were tired ere they approached the English line.
Philip was advised to halt and await the following day :
he gave orders for so doing ; but such was the rivalry of
the chiefs, that each would have his banner next the
enemy, and in the disorder they approached too near
H 2
100 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1346.
the English to retreat or defer the action. The choleric
Philip, too, when he saw the English array, and its"
small extent, became anxious to annihilate his enemies.
He ordered the Genoese cross-bowmen to begin the
action ; they were reluctant, and pleaded fatigue. " Kill
the lazy ribalds ! " said the count d'Ale^on ; and the
Genoese were compelled to attack : they did so with a
loud clamour, which was increased by a storm of rain
and thunder, and by an immense flock of crows which
hovered over the armies, and was regarded as an evil
presage. The English archers advanced each one step in
silence, and by one volley slaughtered and discomfited
the Genoese. The French knights, enraged, drew their
swords on the unfortunate auxiliaries, and cut their way
through to arrive at the enemy. They encountered the
first line of the English under the prince of Wales ; and
here was the heat of the battle. Edward was sent to
for aid ; but he, who saw the strife and knew the mettle
of his men, refused. " Let my son win his- spurs ! " said
the monarch ; and bravely did young Edward, afterwards
the Black Prince, earn these symbols of knighthood.
The French were beaten, despite their immense numbers;
and as darkness soon came on to increase the confusion
and render it impossible to recognise knight or noble,
the slaughter was great. Eleven princes fell in the
field ; also nearly an hundred nobles bearing banners,
twelve hundred chevaliers, and thirty thousand soldiers.
Amongst them were the kings of Bohemia and Majorca,
the dukes of Lorraine and Bourbon, the counts of Flan-
ders and Alen9on. Godfrey of Harcourt, who was in
Edward's army, saw his brother the count of Harcourt
and his two sons perish in the opposite ranks. Philip
was compelled to take flight. Such was the battle of
Crecy, remarkable for the noble blood shed in it, and
for the brief space in which it was decided. Though
the defeat was owing in a great measure to the want of
discipline and ill assortment of Philip's army, the chief
cause in this, as in other instances, was the contempt
of the French princes and nobles for the peasant levies
1350. SIEGE OF CALAIS. 101
and infantry, to which they evidently preferred the
rabble of foreign mercenaries. The day after the action
large bodies of the militia of neighbouring municipalities
arrived, and were slaughtered by the English. Edward,
on the contrary, relied upon his country's yeomen, and
compelled his knights to dismount and fight on foot
with them.
After his victory Edward laid siege to Calais. The
tide of fortune was turned every where against the
French by the tidings of Crecy. John, the son of Philip,
besieged Walter de Manny in the town of Aiguillon ;
he was now obliged to raise the siege. De Manny
asked John for permission and safe conduct to traverse
France in order to reach his master's army : John
granted the safe conduct; but his father Philip broke it,
and arrested De Manny in his passage through Orleans.
John, an honourable prince, was shocked at his father's
want of faith, and vowed no longer to bear arms unless
De Manny was released ; and Philip, despite his choler
and feelings of petty vengeance, was obliged to liberate
him. Charles of Blois was about the same time taken
prisoner in Britany. The circumstances attending the
siege of Calais, its distress, the devotedness of its six
burgesses, and its final surrender, are known to every
English reader.* Edward seemed contented with this fruit
of his victory, for a truce of ten months was soon after
agreed on between the monarchs. The remaining years
of the French king's reign are marked chiefly by the
plague which devastated Europe, and which compelled
a prolongation of the truce. Philip of Valois died in
August, 1350.
John was upwards of thirty when he succeeded his
father Philip. The new king was feebler in character
than his predecessor, less choleric and astute. He
was at the same time more valiant, more amiable, more
the preux chevalier, for already romance reading had
created a peculiar morality and ideal perfection at
which gentle and noble aimed. The same neglect of
See Cab. Cyc. Hist. Eng. vol. i. p. SCO.
H 3
102 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1355.
justice reigned, however, and was observable even in
John, whose first steps were to adulterate the coin, and,
in imitation of his father, to decapitate, without trial, a
nobleman, the count de Guines. The states-general were
called together, and they voted a pernicious mode of levy-
ing money on every sale that took place. In their assembly
of the year 1355, when the necessities of the monarch
had increased, the states established receivers-general,
who should give them an account of the levy. They
ordered, moreover, that nobles and prelates should pay
it as well as the commons, and that they should re-
assemble at the end of a year to vote new taxes. This
was a bold attempt to acquire the same privileges which
were possessed by the English commons.
The court was in the mean time agitated by the
turbulence of Charles the Bad, king of Navarre. In
imitation of the sovereign's custom of putting his ene-
mies to death without trial or accusation, Charles assas-
sinated his rival, Louis of Spain, a favourite with John,
and constable of the realm. He was powerful enough to
obtain pardon ; nevertheless his intrigues continued. The
kingdom was in a state of the greatest discontent against
the new taxes, especially against the gabelle. The king
of Navarre, the count of Harcourt, and others, fomented
these disturbances. Charles, eldest son of John, called
the dauphin, as lord of Dauphiny, which Philip of Valois
had purchased for him, was at that time governor of
Normandy. He entertained the king of Navarre and
the lord of Harcourt at dinner. John arriving in the
midst of the feast, armed and well attended, ordered
none to stir on pain of death. He seized the king of
Navarre " by the skin," dragging him towards him, and
exclaimed " Out, traitor ! thou art not worthy to dine
at my son's table. By my father's soul ! I have a mind
never to eat or drink while thou livest." John then
ordered the king of Navarre and his followers to be led
out and imprisoned, despite the supplications of the
dauphin, who said he should be dishonoured if people
suspected him of such treachery. King John then
1356. FIELD OF POITIERS. 103
seized a mace, struck count Harcourt with it between
the shoulders, and told him to " get to prison in the
devil's name;" whereupon calling the " king of the
ribalds," as the captain of the royal guards was then
characteristically denominated, John gave him orders.
Those orders were to behead Harcourt and his followers :
they were executed in the king's presence, after he
finished the dinner at which his son's unfortunate guests
had been sitting. The family of Harcourt, that of the
king of Navarre, and many Cobles, renounced their alle-
giance on learning this act of violence. The people
were equally enraged against John ; but their murmurs
and commotions were hushed by the tidings, that the
Black Prince had ravaged Auvergne and the Limousin,
and had entered into the central province of Berri. John
had a respectable army on foot against the partisans of
the king of Navarre. He summoned his barons and
knights to reinforce it. All crowded under the banners
of the new monarch to avenge the defeat of Crecy.
Prince Edward had left Bordeaux with no more than
2000 men at arms, and 6000 archers and infantry.
With this small force he thought it prudent to retreat ;
but John had already intercepted him, and the En-
glish, instead of having left their enemies behind, found
them in advance of the town of Poitiers, blocking their
retreat.
The French army, composed of the flower of the na-
tion, mustered 60,000 strong. The prince of Wales, to
compensate for his inferiority of numbers, took post on
a rising ground, which was surrounded with vineyards
and enclosures, and was only approachable through
narrow roads flanked with hedgerows. Talleyrand
cardinal of Perigord endeavoured to bring about an
accommodation. The Black Prince was not reluctant
to escape from an enemy ten times exceeding his own
force. He offered to restore all his conquests, and bind
himself not to serve against France for seven years.
John insisted that Edward should surrender himself his
prisoner; and the proposal was rejected by the prince
H 4
104- HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1356.
as disgraceful. He gained a day's delay by these ne-
gotiations, which he failed not to employ in casting
up entrenchments and fortifying the sides of his po-
sition.
On the 19th of September, a corps of French knights
was ordered to clear the road leading to Edward's
camp. They were commanded by D'Andrehen and
De Clermont, the two marshals of France. They
spurred on, not more than four being able to go abreast.
The English archers, who lined the inside of the hedge,
soon stopped the career of the cavalry by their arrows;
and the footmen, creeping through, stabbed knights and
horses with their knives in the confusion. The troop
was routed, and fell back upon the dauphin's corps ; a
body of English cavalry and archers, which Edward had
placed in ambuscade, then charged upon the French
flank : those commanded by the dauphin were seized
with a panic and fled- The English knights, who were
hitherto on foot to receive the enemy, now mounted
their horses, and abandoning their position, charged
down the narrow road upon the enemy, whom they put
to the rout and drove before them ; the young princes
and many of the French nobles taking flight. The
reserve or hindmost line, however, commanded by king
John in person, still remained unbroken. Its numbers
doubled those of the English army. John, imitating
his enemy's mode of fighting, and desirous to cut off
from himself and followers all possibility of flight, gave
orders to dismount and combat on foot. The fresh di-
vision of the French charged the English under their
marshals lords Suffolk and Warwick, the French mo-
narch striking down enemies with his mace, while his
youngest son Philip, afterwards duke of Burgundy,
piously kept eye and arm busied to defend his sire.
Here the battle raged with the greatest fury and
slaughter, the English striving to make the king of
France prisoner. At length, when most of his nobles
were either slain around him or taken, John called out,
" Where is my cousin the prince of Wales ?" Edward
1356. BATTLE OF POITIERS. 105
was not near, and the king was obliged to give his right
glove, in token of surrender, to Morbec, a knight of
Arras. Others crowded to claim and dispute so rich a
prize, not without danger to the person of the monarch,
until lords Warwick and Cobham arrived to defend him.
The battle of Poitiers, according to Froissart, was better
fought than that of Crecy, though not so bloody. The
duke of Bourbon was the only prince slain, though
many nobles perished. The number of prisoners was
immense, more than doubling that of the English army ;
amongst them, thirteen counts, and seventy barons,
besides the king and his son. The conflict lasted from
morn till noon. That of Crecy began at the time of
vespers. The Black Prince earned more honour by his
treatment of the captive king than even by his victory.
John was treated in every way as a sovereign : he was
c'heered, praised, and even waited on at table, by Edward.
The entry of the royal captive into London was marked
by the same deference. Nor was this mere empty po-
liteness. The king of England and his son did not take
the utmost advantage of their victory. The right to
the crown of France, which they denied to John at the
head of his armies, they no longer disputed with John,
a captive. A truce was concluded for two years. The
English were content with their booty, their rich prize,
and their ample renown.
Charles, the dauphin, who had escaped from the
field of Poitiers, now took upon him the government
of the kingdom. His first act was to summon the
states-general, which met in two assemblies ; those of the
south at Toulouse, those of the north at Paris. The
southern states voted levies of men and money : the
northern proved more refractory, and demanded, as the
price of a subsidy, that the ministers should be tried ;
that a committee of their own body should be permanent,
to aid the dauphin with its counsel ; and, finally, that
the king of Navarre should be released. The king of
Navarre was the first noble who sought in popularity a
counterpoise against the royal authority. The popular
106 HISTORY OF PRANCE. 1357-
party was headed by Stephen Marcel, provost or chief
of the municipality of Paris. The king evaded these
demands, and tried the old experiment of issuing new
and debased money. An insurrection was the conse-
quence : Marcel made his way to the presence of the
dauphin; and, by his order, the marshals Clermont and
Conflans were massacred in Charles's presence. Marcel
made the young prince put on the chaperon or cap,
which was the symbol of insurrection, a circumstance
repeated in after times of similar turbulence and misfor-
tune. It is remarkable how far advanced the Parisians
were at this time in their aims at freedom, and in what
has been called revolutionary tactics. The other towns
and provinces did not, however, approve of the bold
notions of the Parisians. Champagne, especially, de-
clared against them, and the dauphin was enabled to
collect an assembly of states at Compiegne, which con-
demned the acts of those of Paris. The provost Marcel
released the king of Navarre from prison, in order to
procure an eminent leader for the party. Despite of
this, the dauphin's influence prevailed ; Marcel was slain
in a tumult, and the king of Navarre driven from the
capital.
Mutual hatred betwixt the nobles and peasants was at
this time general in France. The latter enjoyed their
feudal privileges and superiority as guerdon for defend-
ing the country in arms. The defeats of Poitiers and
Crecy showed them unequal to this task ; and the
French peasantry, who were not considered by their
lords as worthy to wield a sword, looked on the dis-
comfited knights and barons with contempt. This spirit
of discontent was increased by theweight of the taxes ; not
only the public taxes of the gabelle, and the duty on sales,
but the private taille, which possessors of fiefs levied on
their tenants, and which were now exorbitant on account
of the ransoms requisite for so many captives : then the
disbanded soldiers of both armies increased the disorder
by robbery and pillage. The reclamation of the states-
general, the effervescence of the population inhabiting
1358. THE JAQUERIE. 107
the towns, set the example of licence ; and every where
throughout the kingdom the peasants were vowing
vengeance on all nobly born, storming castles, massa-
cring gentlemen and their families, and putting many
to the torture. This popular insurrection was called
the Jaquerie, from the name of Jaques Bonhomme, or
Jaques, given in derision to the French peasant. The
hatred and contempt of both classes was mutual ; Frois-
sart tells triumphantly, " how the gentlemen of Beau-
vaisy killed great plenty of Jaques." Three hundred
ladies of rank, with the duchess of Orleans, were
obliged to take refuge in Meaux from the exasperated
peasantry. Captal de Buch, a Gascon knight in Ed-
ward's service, flew to their rescue, slaughtered seven
thousand of the assailants, and, to crown his revenge,
burnt the town of Meaux " with all the villeins he
could shut up in it."
After two years captivity, king John sought to release
himself by treaty. He agreed to cede to Edward the
entire west of France in sovereignty, together with four
thousand crowns ransom. The dauphin wisely rejected
conditions so injurious to the monarchy, and Edward
prepared for fresh hostilities. He landed at Calais in
October, 1358, resolved to ravage those parts of France
that had not yet seen his banners. He entered Cham-
pagne ; sat down before Rheims, as if with the wish of
having himself crowned king of France in its cathedral ;
but, abandoning the tecliousness of a siege, he penetrated
into Burgundy, which, like many towns, purchased an
alliance with him, and exemption from ravages. Edward
then directed his march towards the capital, encamped
before it, and defied the dauphin to battle. That cau-
tious prince replied by burning the suburbs and keeping
himself within the walls ; and in a little time Edward
was obliged to retire towards the Loire in search of
provisions.
The English king had now traversed the whole cir-
cuit of France as a conqueror. He had full opportunities
for observing that he could never establish his authority
108 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1360.
elsewhere than in those provinces which he might claim
by hereditary right. He w r as in years, and was naturally
anxious to establish a permanent peace. Perhaps, too,
he was somewhat stricken by remorse at so much devas-
tation and bloodshed. Edward announced, that during
a thunder-storm he had made a vow to restore peace to
the world. Commissioners met on both sides, and a
treaty was concluded at Bretigny between France and
England, in May, 1360: Edward gave up his pretensions
to the crown of France, as well as to Normandy. All
Aquitaine and the provinces south-west of the Loire
were ceded in full sovereignty to England, as was the
country on the sea-coast from Calais to the Somme.
Three millions of crowns were to be given as the ransom
of king John, who was within a short time liberated. He
reigned three years after the recovery of his freedom ; a
period marked chiefly by the decline of the family of the
old dukes of Burgundy, which became extinct. They
were descended from Robert, son of Hugh Capet. The
crown took possession of that rich duchy; but John,
overlooking the true interests of the monarchy, or igno-
rant of them, gave Burgundy in apanage to his fourth
son Philip, who had been taken prisoner with him at
Crecy. Though the peace concluded at Bretigny was
not broken, still many of its stipulations remained un-
fulfilled. The most flagrant instance of bad faith was
the escape from England of one of the hostages, the
duke of Anjou : either from this cause, or from a wish
to negotiate with Edward, John returned to London,
and died at the Savoy palace in the Strand, in April,
1364-.
King John's was an inconsistent character; valiant
though weak, generous and honourable in many instances,
but cruel, and even perfidious in his treatment of count
d'Harcourt. His reign is remarkable as being the
period in which the states-general professed the boldest
maxims of freedom, and made the most vigorous efforts
to establish them. They decreed their recognition of
the great principle, that no subject should be compelled
1364. ACCESSION OF CHARLES V. 10[)
to pay a tax to which he had not legally assented. This,
to which England held as to an anchor through every
political storm, was soon torn from the grasp of the
French, or abandoned by them. The years 1355 and
1356 may be considered the only period during which
the French monarchy marched in the path of constitu-
tional freedom. They were the moments of a brief and
ill-contested struggle, in which royalty prevailed. This
advantage it never afterwards lost or conceded. From
the days of Marcel to the Revolution, all attempts to
wrest from despotism its iron sceptre proved vain. The
most pernicious and unjust prerogatives were in course
of time held to be sacred ; and henceforth the internal
peace and happiness of the nation came to consist in the
forbearance of the master and the submission of the
slave.
It was fortunate for the independence, though not for
the liberties of the country, that a prudent and crafty
monarch succeeded to the throne of John. His son,
Charles V., is known by the name of the Sage : he had
already reigned as dauphin, and had learned wisdom
from adversity and experience. His first act was to
attack that intriguing grandee, Charles king of Navarre,
who had troubled John's reign by avowing himself the
supporter of popular rights. The continuance of the war
had called forth warlike talents. Du Guesclin, a knight
of Britany, had signalised himself in the troubles of
the province. Charles, with his characteristic prudence,
selected him as general, and sent him to dispossess the
king of Navarre of the towns which he held in Nor-
mandy. John de Grailli, called the captal (lord) de
Buch, a famed captain of Gascony, was opposed to him
by Charles of Navarre. In a combat where great mili-
tary skill as well as courage was displayed on both sides,
the captal was defeated and taken by Du Guesclin. The
war was then transferred to Britany. Du Guesclin and
Charles of Blois marched against the troops of De Mont-
fort most of them English, and commanded by Robert
Knolles. Against these enemies Du Guescliu was not
110 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1365.
so successful: he was taken prisoner, and Charles of
Blois slain. The victory of Auray gave complete peace
to France. John de Montfort was recognised duke of
Britany by Charles, who at the same time made peace
with the king of Navarre.
The worst consequences of war continued to afflict
and weigh upon France, notwithstanding the conclusion
of these treaties. The bands of mercenary soldiers, or
great companies, which lent their support on hire to the
respective monarchs, were now left without pay or ser-
vice to prey upon the land. Charles employed Du
Guesclin to treat with these bands, and bribe them to
accompany him across the Pyrenees to support Henry of
Castile against his brother Peter the Cruel. They were
tempted by the plunder of Avignon, which lay in their
route. The pope endeavoured to avert their march by
absolutions, which he lavished on this army of scoun-
drels. They accepted the religious immunity, but were
not less severe in their exactions. Du Guesclin, at the
head of these bands, drove Peter the Cruel from Castile.
But the Black Prince and his warriors, impatient of re-
pose, espoused the part of Peter, and attacking Du
Guesclin, vanquished and took him prisoner. All these
events turned to the advantage of France. The prince
of Wales, lavish of his resources as of his valour, was
distressed by the expenses of his expedition. He sought
to levy, in consequence, an additional tax on every hearth
throughout the province of Aquitaine. His subjects
resisted. The malcontents appealed to Charles V., who,
seeing the infirm state of health both of prince Edward
and his father, listened to the complaints of the barons
of Aquitaine. He summoned the Black Prince to Paris
to answer them. The reply was, a resolve to obey the
summons at " the head of sixty thousand men." The
threat was vain. War w r as declared. The prince
caused himself to be carried in a litter at the head of
his army, and in this state took Limoges. But Ills
malady gained upon him, and he was obliged to return
and embark for England, where he soon after expired.
1376. PROVINCES REGAINED FROM THE ENGLISH. Ill
Edward III. was not long in following his heroic son to
the grave ; and the sceptres of England and Aquitaine
were left in the feeble hands of a minor.
Charles the Sage was not a monarch to let pass such
advantage. Du Guesclin was made constable, and com-
manded against the English. Still he had strict orders
to avoid giving battle. Instead of confining their efforts
to a defence of their provinces, the English marched
from Calais across the whole extent of France to Bor-
deaux, ravaging the country, and exciting the hatred of
the population, without gaining their object of exciting
the prudent Charles to a general engagement. The
strength of the English armies was thus wasted in
marching and bravado. Du Guesclin watched every
opportunity of gaining a partial advantage. The pre-
sumption of the English garrison of Chizey, which at-
tacked very superior forces under the command of the
constable, afforded a triumph to the latter. The capital
of Poitiers revolted and opened its gates to the French.
Rochelle followed its example ; and this province, the
prize of the victories of the Black Prince, was again lost
to the English.
It is evident that the kings of England were struggling
against the course of nature and of events, in endeavour-
ing to hold possessions in France : whatever was ac-
quired by the greatest efforts of the statesman, and the
most brilliant victories of the hero, was lost again with-
out a single action of any importance. The Angli-
cised provinces again became French, as waters return
to their level. It required but a word, a decree on the
part of the king of France, and all that he had alienated,
again became his. Thus, whilst the victorious cam-
paigns of the English fill the most brilliant pages of
history, those in which France recovers her provinces
are merely a succession of petty skirmishes and treasons,
in which there is little glory and less interest. The
wars of the reign of Charles V. are of the latter kind ;
so that it is sufficient to indicate their result. Du
Guesclin alone appears amongst the French to claim the
112 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1 380.
honour of a hero. He is the first warrior of modern
France the earliest name in the bright annals of her
military fame. He was strong, and of a clumsy and even
awkward make. When this redoubted warrior was a
prisoner at Bordeaux, after his defeat in Castile, the
Black Prince heard it whispered that he retained Du
Guesclin because he feared him. Edward bade him
name his own ransom, and go to seek it. It was fixed
at 100,000 crowns. The princess of Wales paid a
considerable portion of it as did John Chandos, the
English champion next in repute for valour to prince
Edward. Du Guesclin survived his brave enemies
but a few years. He died in 1380, at the siege of
Randan.
One of the last achievements of Du Guesclin was to
drive the newly-acknowledged duke, De Montfort, from
Britany. He took refuge in England; but Charles
having shown an inclination to destroy the independence
of the province by uniting it to the crown, the pride of
the Breton nobles was alarmed. Du Guesclin himself
felt, for the first and only time, his feelings of loyalty
abate. The duke was summoned back from England
by the people of the duchy, and welcomed with more
enthusiasm and attachment than he had ever yet excited.
It was to support the duke of Britany that the duke of
Gloucester led an army into France in the year 1380.
Following the usual tactics of the day, he traversed the
country, daring the French to action. They were said
to be preparing to accept the challenge when tidings of
the dangerous illness of the king came, to turn the zeal
and anxiety of princes and nobles from patriotic to
selfish views. Charles, when dauphin, was said to have
been poisoned by the king of Navarre. An antidote
taken opportunely had saved his life, but left him still
weakly. His hair and nails had dropped off at the time.
The remembrance of this peril and the potency of the
poison were said to be the cause of the timidity of his
character, as well as of his early death. It took place in
September, 1380, at the castle of Beaute, on the Marne.
1380. RIGHTS OF THE PEOPLE DESTROYED. 113
It was not undeservedly that Charles V. obtained the
title of Sage. He succeeded to power in one of the
most critical periods of the monarchy, when, humbled
by the English, it was at the same time threatened by
the people, who had risen to know their rights and to
demand them. To have conceded those rights was not
to be expected from a monarch of that day, scarcely
to be hoped, indeed ; for liberty, so valuable as a con-
quest, is precarious as a boon. The predecessors of
Charles had raised up the commons to be a counterpoise
to the aristocracy, and had favoured the passage of
wealth and importance into plebeian hands. When,
however, to ensure this wealth, the commons sought for
political privileges and influence, the monarch turned to
crush them. They had established their rights in the
reign of John ; but Charles succeeded in putting them
down, and effectually destroying them.
In England the aristocracy had always taken the lead
in asserting and defending the liberties, not only of their
own order, but of the country generally. There was a
strong community of feeling between the English nobles
and the great body of the people, who were raised above
the corresponding class in France by their ancient Saxon
laws and free institutions, by a larger exemption from the
evils of war, and by the greater compactness and unity
of the country, which favoured the equal distribution of
justice. In France, on the contrary, the peasant was a
despised, oppressed creature. The walls of a town alone
defended the plebeian ; and to the town every peasant
hied that had the least property to enjoy or to preserve.
Hence the face of the country was deserted by all,
save the destitute. Those substantial husbandmen, who
formed the class of yeomen in England, disappeared in
France, or were converted into burgesses. In the latter
country, accordingly, the spirit of liberty was confined to
the municipalities, each of which, from the extent and
poverty of the land, was isolated, having no communica-
tion or sympathy with those around it. The partisans
of freedom, collected into partial knots and masses, were
114 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1380.
thus either easily overawed and crushed, or, finding
themselves superior in force, asserted their independence
and privileges with all the licence of a town rabble.
They stopped not short of riot and bloodshed, rendered
the name of freedom synonymous with disorder, and
rallied to the side of royalty all the lovers of security
and peace.
Such is the history of events in France. The states-
general wrested from John an acknowledgment of their
political rights. When the monarch or his son sought
to withdraw these concessions, it was the population of
the capital that rose against their bad faith. The nobility
kept aloof; the peasantry were ignorant of what was going
forward. The Parisians under Marcel, finding them-
selves in possession of power, made a turbulent and licen-
tious use of it, massacred those whom they suspected,
and stained their cause with violence and bloodshed.
Charles took advantage of this : he made an appeal
to order ; and, calling a patched-up assembly of states at
Compiegne, he succeeded in crushing the Parisians.
During his reign the cry of liberty was stifled. Charles
the Sage seldom called the states together, or, when he
did, it was upon a few chosen deputies that he bestowed
the name. He usurped to himself the power of levying
taxes by proceeding in state to the parliament, there
holding what was called a bed of justice, and ordering
his laws or levies to be registered.
Such was the new mode of legislation invented by
Charles, and which endured until the Revolution. The
ancient mode of promulgating a law was to register it in
the books of parliament, which was the high court of
justice of the kingdom. Charles assumed this form of
promulgation to have the entire force of legislation ; and
thus by a trick converted a government, that hitherto
at least contained the germs of freedom, into an absolute
monarchy.
Charles the Sage left two sons : Charles VI., who
now succeeded him, and had not attained twelve years
of age; and Louis, afterwards duke of Orleans. The
1380. REGENCY. 115
infant king had four uncles to dispute his tutelage, and
the direction of affairs : these were the dukes of Anjou,
Berry, and Burgundy, brothers of the late monarch,
and the duke of Bourbon, his brother-in-law. Charles
the Sage, foreseeing the ambition of his relatives, had
ordained that the kings of France should attain their
majority at the age of fourteen. He had regulated that
the duke of Anjou should be regent, whilst the dukes
of Burgundy and Bourbon should have the care of the
young king.
The duke of Anjou commenced by pillaging the
royal treasure, A great proportion of the late monarch's
savings was concealed in the chateau of Melun. The
duke summoned the treasurer, and under menace of the
torture compelled him to point out the part of the wall
in which the ingots were built, and which he immedi-
ately tore down. At the ceremony of the coronation the
duke of Anjou claimed to be at the right hand of the
king, as eldest prince of the blood ; the duke of Bur-
gundy, as first peer of the realm, seized the place, and
kept it. Upon their return to Paris the quarrel con-
tinued, but the people paid for it. The treasury was
left empty, and the soldiers were compelled to prey on
the country for support. The peasants as well as the mu-
nicipality of Paris rose; but there seems to have been no
understanding between bodies so distinct as the citizens
and the peasantry. The dukes were obliged to repeal the
new taxes ; but the government could not proceed with-
out them. Fresh ones were proclaimed. The mob
attacked the receivers, broke into the arsenal, seized t
quantity of leaden mallets the only weapons at hand,
-and forced all the palaces and prisons. Rouen imi-
tated the example of Paris, but was severely punished
by the duke of Anjou. The young king and his uncle
made a kind of compromise with the Parisians, and were
permitted to enter the capital. The duke of Anjou saw
that spoliation became more difficult in France. His
cousin Jeanne, queen of Naples, had bequeathed to him
by testament all the rights of the first house of Anjou
i 2
116 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1382.
the kingdom of Naples, and the county of Provence.
The sovereignty was, nevertheless, claimed by Charles
of Durazzo. The duke of Anjou departed from France
with all his wealth and a brilliant army, to conquer
his new heritage. He marched through Italy, invaded
Naples, his rival retiring before him. But being seized
with a malady, brought on by his fatigues, he died ; and
his army, dispersing itself, made the best of its way
home in scattered bands.
Philip duke of Burgundy, though the youngest son
of king John, was by far the most powerful of the bro-
thers. In addition to the duchy and county of Bur-
gundy, (the latter is known as Franche-Comte,) he
had married the daughter and heiress of the last count
of Flanders, and was thus heir to that wealthy province.
The Flemish burgesses were foremost in supporting their
privileges and independence : they were always at war
with their count, who, from his alliance with Burgundy,
naturally sought the aid of the king of France. The
young Charles was delighted at the idea of a campaign ;
an army was levied ; the oriflamme, or royal standard,
hoisted ; and the French, under their monarch of four-
teen, advanced northwards. The object of the expe-
dition was not only to restore to the count of Flanders
his authority, but to punish the turbulent commons,
who stirred up those of France to imitate their example.
Froissart avows it to have been a war between the com-
mons and the aristocracy. The Flemings were com-
manded by Artaveldt, son of the famous brewer the ally
of Edward. The town of Ghent had been reduced to
the extreme of distress and famine by the count and the
people of Bruges, who supported him. Artaveldt led the
people of Ghent in a forlorn hope against Bruges, de-
feated the army of the count, and broke into the rival
town, which he took and plundered.
After this disaster, the count had recourse to France.
The passage of the river Lys, which defended Flanders,
was courageously undertaken, and effected with some
hazard by the French. The Flemings were rather dis-
1382. VICTORY OF HOSEBECQUE. 117
piritcd by this first success : nevertheless they assem-
bled their forces; and the two armies of French knights
and Flemish citizens met at Rosebecque, between Y pres
and Courtray. The 2~th of November, 1382, was the
day of battle. Arta veldt had stationed his army on a
height, to await the attack of the French, but their im-
patience forced him to commence. Forming his troops
into one solid square, Artaveldt led them against the
French centre. Froissart compares their charge to the
headlong rush of a wild boar. It broke the opposite
line, penetrating into its ranks : but the wings of the
French turned upon the flank of the Flemings, which,
not having the advantage of a charge or impulse, were
beaten by the French men at arms. Pressed upon one
another, the Flemings had not room to fight : they were
hemmed in, surrounded, and slaughtered : no quarter
was asked or given ; nearly 30,000 perished. The
9000 Ghentois that had marched under their banner
were counted, to a man, amongst the slain : Artaveldt,
their general, was among the foremost who had fallen.
Charles ordered his body to be hung upon a tree.
It was at Courtray, very near to the field where this
battle was fought, that Robert of Artois, with a French
army, had perished beneath the swords of the Flemings,
nearly a century previous. The gilded spurs of the
French knights still adorned the walls of the cathedral
of Courtray. The victory of Rosebecque in the eyes of
Charles had not sufficiently repaid the former defeat :
the town of Courtray was pillaged and burnt; its famous
clock was removed to Dijon, and formed the third won-
der of this kind in France, Paris and Sens alone pos-
sessing similar ornaments. The battle of Rosebecque
proved more unfortunate for the communes of France
than for those of Flanders. Ghent, notwithstanding
her loss of 9000 slain, did not yield to the conqueror,
but held out the war for two years longer ; and did not
finally submit until the duke of Burgundy, at the death
of their count, guaranteed to the burghers the full enjoy-
ment of their privileges. The king avenged himself on
i 3
118 HISTORY OF FRANCE.
the mutinous city of Paris ; entered it as a conqueror ;
took the chains from the streets, and unhinged the gates :
one hundred of the citizens were sent to the scaffold; the
property of the rich was confiscated ; and all the ancient
and most onerous taxes, the gabelle, the duty on sales,
as well as that of entry, were declared by royal ordon-
nance to be established anew. The principal towns of
the kingdom were visited with the same punishments
and exactions. The victory of Rosebecque overthrew
the commons of France, which were crushed under the
feet of the young monarch and his nobles.
The wish of Charles the Sage had been, that his son
should marry a German princess : Isabella of Bavaria was
mentioned. She was induced to make a pilgrimage to
Amiens, where the young king saw her and admired her
beauty. His marriage took place in a few days after.
The following year was spent in mighty preparations
for an invasion of England : a large fleet and army was
assembled at Sluys, and every province was drained of
men and provisions to complete the expedition. The
king himself was eager to embark ; but his uncle, the
duke of Berri, not famed for courage, purposely delayed
the departure, and the project was finally abandoned.
At length the young king liberated himself from the
tutelage of his uncle. He declared in council that he
alone would conduct the affairs of the kingdom for the
future : he changed his ministers, and gave the post
commanding the chief influence to the constable De
Clisson, a friend of Du Guesclin, and like him a Breton.
De Clisson was a grim old veteran ; brave, unyield-
ing, and having many enemies, among whom was the
duke of Britany, lately reconciled to France. One night
the constable was attacked by a band of assassins in the
street, and left for dead. The perpetrator of this out-
rage, De Craon, fled to Britany ; the king vowed ven-
geance, and raised an army to punish the duke of Bri-
tany and De Craon. As he was leading it from the
town of Le Mans, in a burning day of August, a maniac
rushed from an adjoining wood, seized his bridle, and
1392. INSANITY OF CHARLES VI. 119
told him he was betrayed : soon after, the spear of one
of his attendants fell on the helmet of another ; the
king was alarmed, and thought of the menaced treachery.
The fright disturbed his reason, and, drawing his sword,
Charles attacked his followers, slew some of them, who
made no resistance, till he flew at his brother the duke
of Orleans ; they then perceived his loss of reason.
He was deprived of his arms, and reconducted to
Paris. The royal dukes resumed their hold of power :
Burgundy menaced the constable, threatening to beat
out "his other eye;" and De Clisson fled to his castle
for safety. During the recovery of the king, another
accident happened, to which his madness has been ge-
nerally attributed. There was a masquerade, in which
Charles and some of his courtiers appeared in the dis-
guise of satyrs, dressed in shirts daubed with pitch and
covered with flax : these happened to take fire. The
king's unlucky garment was quenched in time, but se-
veral of his companions perished. Though this acci-
dent did not immediately affect him, yet the malady
soon after returned with increased violence, and for the
remainder of his life Charles VI. continued a maniac,
though his phrensy had lucid intervals of short dura-
tion.
The beginning of the century marks the breaking
forth of the differences between the dukes of Orleans
and Burgundy. The former, though brother to the
unfortunate king, and now at the mature age of thirty,
was deprived of all influence in the council or in affairs
of state. When Charles had thrown off the authority of
his uncles, the duke of Orleans and De Clisson succeeded
to their influence. The malady of the king threw
Orleans into the shade. This was the original cause of
rivalry ; they were two political parties struggling for
power. The duke of Berri was of a peaceable and
timid character. Burgundy took the lead. Valentine
Visconti, the duchess of Orleans, who had great power
over Charles even in his phrensy, was accused of ac-
quiring it by sorcery : the party of Orleans used recri-
i 4
120 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1400.
mination : then a mutual hatred existed between the two
duchesses ; and divers causes, some of them scandalous,
are recorded. The duke of Orleans was a libertine : to
one of his amours at this period, France owes Dunois
the famous bastard of Orleans, founder of the house of
Longueville. The duke of Burgundy was sumptuous,
prodigal, and choleric.* In the struggle between uncle
and nephew all feelings of the public good or public
services were lost sight of; each pillaged the treasury,
when an opportunity occurred, and then blamed his
rival for the distress that ensued. The duke of Orleans
brought a body of troops to Paris ; his uncle imitated
him ; and for several weeks the respective armies occu-
pied the capital, neither daring to strike the first blow.
A peace was patched up between them. The duke of
Burgundy, taking this opportunity to visit his duchy,
Orleans levied a new tax, putting the name of Burgundy
to the ordonnance. The latter duke protested against
the forgery, disclaimed all knowledge of the tax, and
refused to share in it, alleging that the people were
overburdened already. This conduct and his apparent
disinterestedness endeared Burgundy to the Parisians,
and to the commons in general, while Orleans was pro-
portionally hated. Chance, more than the merits of
either duke, threw the whole weight of popularity into
one scale, and for the moment it prevailed. The king,
however, incapable as he was of using his reason or dis-
cretion, even in his lucid intervals, or of making himself
cognizant of affairs, was still allowed to recover author-
ity, when his senses returned. In one of these moments
edicts were issued, admitting the queen to the council,
and ordering that she should be obeyed. The duke of
Orleans by these means regained the ascendant, and
availed himself of it to pillage the treasury of a sum
lately raised by a severe and distressing tax. The
schism of the popedom at the same time contributed to
embroil the princes. The death of Philip duke of Bur-
* The ,'frt-nm-s, or new-year's gifts, presented by him on the 1st of Janu-
ary, 1W2, amounted to 40,000 crowns.
1 i()7- DUKE OF ORLEANS ASSASSINATED. 121
gundy occurred about this period, and the absolute power
of misrule devolved, without dispute, on his nephew.
To follow minutely the alternate ascendancy of the
two parties, and their selfish struggle for power, would
but weary and disgust the reader. John, the new duke
of Burgundy, succeeded to his father's position ; he was
called John the Fearless, an epithet which spoke suffi-
ciently his audacious character. Not many years pre-
vious he had led a crusade against the Turks, and was
taken prisoner, with many nobles of France, by the
famous Bajazet. It cost the good towns of Burgundy
a large contribution to release him. The rapacity of
the duke of Orleans threw the appearance of right on
the side of Burgundy, who moreover professed himself
the foe of tyranny and the friend of the suffering com-
mons. New armies were raised, and again disbanded
after a hollow truce and forced reconciliation. The
princes slept in the same bed in token of perfect amity.
The very evening that succeeded this close renewal of
intimacy, a band of assassins, headed by Raoul d'Au-
quetonville, stationed themselves, by order of Burgundy,
in a street through which the duke of Orleans must
necessarily pass in repairing to visit the queen. They
sent him a false summons from her : he hastened to
obey it with few attendants; and was instantly set upon
by the assassins, who killed and even mangled him with
their hatchets. Great was the alarm : the duke of
Burgundy exclaimed against the authors of so infamous
a murder ; but when the provost of Paris declared before
the council that he had a clue to discover the perpe-
trators, and that he would not fail to bring them to
justice provided he was permitted to search the hotels
of the princes, Burgundy grew pale. The other princes
declared that their palaces were open to the provost's
search; but the duke hesitated, and calling aside his uncle,
the duke of Berri, confessed that, tempted by the devil, he
had instigated the murder. On the first avowal of this
audacious crime the princes were thunderstruck, and
looked at one another in silence. Natural indignation
122 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1407-
was called forth. A council assembled, from which the
duke of Burgundy found himself excluded ; he instantly
fled from Paris to his nearest fortress, Bapaume, and
there collected forces. The princes were obliged to
smother their resentment. Burgundy returned to Paris,
openly avowed and justified the assassination of his
nephew, hiring at the same time a university doctor to
argue publicly the justice and praiseworthiness of the
act. " Tyrants," said the doctor, " place themselves
above and beyond the law ; to punish them recourse
must be had to means beyond the law. It is only the
very powerful and noble who can command these means;
and, consequently, with them principally it becomes a
duty." But what chiefly emboldened the duke to avow
such a crime, was the fact that the legal process of trial
was itself but a tedious kind of assassination ; and the
midnight vengeance of the bravo about as equitable and
respectable as the noon-day decisions of judge and execu-
tioner. Some time after, Burgundy committed a no less
atrocious act in causing Montague to be tried and hanged.
He was a man sprung from the people, a financier, and
a minister beloved by the king, who in his phrensy could
not protect him : his crime was his wealth ; and the im-
mediate cause of his death was a festival in which he had
eclipsed in splendour those of the princes of the blood.
The insurrection of the people of Liege against their
bishop, a creature of the duke of Burgundy, called the
latter from Paris. His influence had caused John, a
younger brother of the house of Bavaria, to be elected
bishop ; John took deacon's orders to entitle him to
assume the episcopal sovereignty, but he refused to be
priested, preferring the helmet to the mitre. The
Liegeois were discontented at having a profane knight
in lieu of a bishop ; they entreated and petitioned John
to take upon him the sacerdotal character. He laughed
at them. They rebelled and drove him out. Such was
the crime of the Liegeois. The duke of Burgundy
marched against them ; a battle was fought at Hasbain,
in which the burgesses of Liege were as unfortunate as
1413. ORLEANS PARTY I.V LEAGUE WITH ENGLAND. 123
those of Ghent had been at Rosebecque. It is said that
26,000 dead were counted on the field of battle.
This victory, won by the duke of Burgundy, inti-
midated the party of Orleans that had already raised its
head in Paris. New submissions were made to him,
and a reconciliation, hollow as preceding ones, took place
at Chartres. Meantime the young duke of Orleans had
attained the age of manhood ; he married the daughter
of count Armagnac, a Gascon nobleman, of influence in
his rude land, warlike, fierce, and not unfitted to lead a
party in these days of open strife. By his aid the party
of Orleans was revived. Armagnac called towards Paris
a little army of his Gascon followers, a savage, sanguin-
ary race; in cruelty they far surpassed the Burgundians :
murder, torture, every species of violence and des-
truction, marked their steps. The opposite party would
not be surpassed in vengeance, and the civil war between
Burgundians and Armagnacs became marked with in-
human ferocity.
The city of Paris, according to its old predilection,
favoured Burgundy. Still its respectable citizens were
found wanting in zeal. Arms were entrusted to the
company of butchers, who formed themselves into re-
giments, and soon became the terror of the city. The
Armagnacs penetrated north of Paris. The Gascon
soldiers, preferring a plundering life in the midst of
France to their own rude and poor homes, were constant
to their banners. The duke of Burgundy, on the other
hand, could not get his Flemings to quit their families
and crafts for more than forty days ; he was therefore
obliged to call in the English. Henry IV. sent a body
of archers to his aid, with whom he drove his enemies
from the north of the capital ; this was in February.
In May we find Henry in league with the Orleans party,
who were to restore to the English, in recompense,
all their ancient possessions in France. The emissary
who bore this treaty was seized at Boulogne ; its con-
tents were made public, and great odium was in conse-
quence excited against the Armagnacs. The hapless
124 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 14-13.
monarch, Charles, recovering for a moment from his
phrensy, joined in this indignation : he called an army,
displayed the oriflamme, and marched with the Bur-
gundians to besiege Bourges. The campaign, as usual,
ended without an action, in a kind of treaty. Both
parties felt the thirst of pillage and of blood ; both
wanted the courage to decide their differences in a ge-
neral combat. No period of history manifests such an
utter want of talent ; no prowess was shown except in
tournaments ; no statesmanship save in the planning of
a murder. Although the passions of men possessed of
power and means were excited to the utmost, yet not a
decisive blow was struck in policy or in arms. The
fortune of the struggling parties was left to events
to chance. Success and reverse, the former at least, if
not both, unearned, alternately ensued ; conquerors and
conquered, pursued and fled, rolling like destructive
waves over the necks of a prostrate and ruined people.
Civil wars in general, destructive as they are of peace
and prosperity, beget at least the virtue of courage ; yet
it was not so in France. The peasantry were crushed and
trodden down ; the nobles and knights feared to trust
them with arms. The Bretons and the Gascons, natives
of distant provinces, were the only foot-soldiers, the
sole infantry of France at this time ; and a handful of
Engh'sh sufficed in these quarrels to give the advantage
to either party.
The Burgundians next experienced evil fortune. They
had gone too far in letting loose the democratic spirit of
the Parisians. The butchers, whom they had made
paramount, abused their power, broke into the palace
of the dauphin, insulted him, and rendered the young
prince as well as the better order of the citizens weary of
the yoke of Burgundy. The Armagnacs were embold-
ened to advance upon the capital ; some of the citizens
took arms against the butchers. The dauphin favoured
the re-action, and Burgundy was obliged to fly ; his
party, deprived of the support of the Parisians, was
routed. Charles VI. marched in person against him at
1415. HENRY V. SEIZES HARFLEUR. 125
the head of the Armagnacs, besieged and took Soissons,
of which the inhabitants of every age and sex were in-
humanly massacred. Arras was next invested ; but the
Armagnacs becoming disgusted at the tediousness of the
siege, as the Burgundians had been the previous year at
that of Bourges, an accommodation ensued, the duke of
Burgundy making verbal submissions.
Whilst France was thus occupied and torn by civil
contests, Henry V. had succeeded to the throne of Eng-
land : his youthful ardour prompted him to emulate the
third Edward and the Black Prince ; and in the year
1415 he embarked with an army at Southampton, and
landed at the mouth of the Seine. He sat down before
Harfleur, and took it after a month's siege. The season
was already too far advanced for any serious enterprise,
and Henry contented himself with the project of march-
ing from Harfleur to Calais. The French had suspended
their quarrels in the presence of a foreign enemy. The
king himself fixed his quarters at Rouen, and summoned
thither his knights and nobles, who thronged in numbers
sufficient to treble the English army. Henry endeavoured
to cross the Somme, but every ford and passage was
guarded, and he was obliged to ascend the river nearly
to St. Quentin ere he was able to ford. During the delay
caused by this march the French had ample time to throw
their whole force between the English and Calais. They
had challenged Henry to fix a clay and a field of action :
he replied with sarcasm, that he did not skulk within walls
or towns, but held his way and pitched his camp in the
open field ; and that they might choose any post between
him and Calais; if impeded, he would force his way.
The French, under the constable D'Albret, followed
Henry's suggestion, and posted themselves on the road
which the English monarch must pursue, between the
villages of Agincourt and Framecourt : they were 50,000
strong. Except the king, the dukes of Berri and Bur-
gundy, all the princes of the blood were present. There
were, however, but few Burgundians ; and a corps of
6000 burgesses that Paris offered to furnish was rejected
126 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1415.
with contempt. On the 24th of October the English
army approached ; its strength is estimated by Lefebvre
St. Remi, who fought in the action, at 1000 men at
arms and 10,000 soldiers. In the night of the '24th the
armies encamped a league apart, under a heavy rain,
neither side exulting ; and the French observed, as an
unusual fact and an evil omen, that not a steed was
heard to neigh during the night. On the following
morning Henry, mounted on a grey pony and wearing
a helmet adorned with a crown, ordered his battle,
placing his little band of knights in the centre, so that
their banners were thick together, his archers at the
sides and strewn along the front. The French, as usual,
were drawn up in three lines: princes, nobles, and che-
valiers thronged to the front; and being flanked by two
woods, they had not room to extend their line or to fight
as they stood. Still they determined to remain on the
defensive. The battles of Poitiers and Crecy had been
lost by the French assuming the offensive and commenc-
ing the attack ; now they resolved to await it. Henry
was therefore obliged to advance, and his archers soon
began to send their deadly showers of arrows amidst the
the thick ranks of the French. Clignet de Brabant
and the count de Vendome were ordered to advance
with a body of knights to clear away the archers. In
this they met with bad success. The field, which had
been lately sown, was soaked with rain ; the trampling
had converted it into deep mud, and it was with diffi-
culty that the horses, bearing men in heavy armour,
could extricate themselves or perform aught like a charge.
The English archers were defended by stakes which
each man stuck before him. The French could not
force them. Their horses, galled and maddened by the
arrows, rushed back on the main body of the French and
threw it into confusion. The English advanced ; the
archers with hatchets and leaden mallets, leaping into
the trenches of the line, commenced the massacre.
Fixed in the mud, without room to wield their arms, or
discipline to hold together and afford mutual aid, the
1415. BATTLE OF AGINCOURT. 127
French knights were either slain, or, by uncovering their
heads, made themselves known and surrendered. The
second and third lines, composed of the least eminent of
the French, made no resistance, but instantly fled. The
English dared not to pursue. They were outnumbered
and surrounded by their prisoners and vanquished ene-
mies ; and a body of them having presented a show of
resistance, Henry felt obliged to give orders that each
man should kill his prisoners. This was refused ; and
he commanded 200 archers especially to execute this
odious task. Thus, many of the French were massacred
in cold blood, until Henry, seeing that his fears were
not founded, put a stop to the slaughter. It has been
said by historians, and has been generally repeated, that
the three great defeats of the French were principally
owing to the mad impetuosity, the absurd courage, of the
nobles. Hume, a favourer of the French nation and of
gentility, has accredited this. It is not easy to see in
this the cause of their reverses. At Agincourt certainly
they showed rather a want of manhood. Caution was
observed in every movement. Though five times more
numerous than the English army, they still kept on
the defensive, and, when attacked, they surrendered
in a panic : they had here no Du Guesclin, no Bayard,
no gallant king John ; even the barbarous and san-
guinary quarrel between Orleans and Burgundy had
stifled courage as well as humanity in the national
character.
It is but fair to remark, that in these days of shame
the family of Bourbon bore their escutcheon without a
stain. One duke had fallen at Crecy ; another in the
subsequent war ; and a prince of the house, at Poitiers.
The reigning duke of Bourbon had shown honest indig-
nation at the murder of the duke of Orleans, and had
retired from court and public life, rather than counte-
nance the murderer or submit to him. He re-appeared
at Agincourt, and was made prisoner there, together
with the young duke of Orleans.
Agincourt proved a victory more for the Burgundians
128 HISTORY OP FRANCE. J 11.3.
than for the English. Henry marched to Calais without
seeking farther advantages. But Burgundy, though he
had lost two sons in the action, had his army of fol-
lowers unbroken ; whilst the captivity of the duke of
Orleans, and the death of the constable and other leaders,
left their side destitute. The activity of count Armagnac
sufficed, however, to rally and support the party. He
was appointed constable; and he still held possession of
Paris, and kept the Burgundians at bay. The Parisians,
wearied with the tyranny of the Armagnacs, regretted
their infidelity to the cause of Burgundy. Count Ar-
magnac, who saw their fickleness, redoubled his cruel-
ties, and resolved to repress treason by terror. Never-
theless, some of the citizens opened one of the gates of
Paris to the Burgundians in the night. The Armag-
nacs were routed ; the count himself, and his principal
supporters, were seized and imprisoned. The butchers
and all the Burgundian rabble that had been exiled
returned, and vengeance on the Armagnacs became the
general cry. Those suspected of favouring the Orleans
party were massacred. The prisons, full of unfortunate
victims, were forced by the populace, and all found
within were slaughtered. When the populace had got
possession of the Chatelet, the prisoners were summoned
one by one, and as they issued forth their heads were
struck off. Four bishops and two parliamentary presi-
dents perished in this sanguinary prelude to scenes that
disgraced the same spot at a period nearer to our times.
Count Armagnac himself did not escape. After massa-
creinghim,the Burgundians cut from his body an echarpe,
or sash of flesh, in derision, a white sash being the em-
blem of the Armagnacs. The pen shrinks from exciting
disgust by detailing the horrible cruelties committed.
The reader is, no doubt, surprised at the total silence
of the church amidst these feuds : but the power of the
popedom was divided and nullified at this period by a
schism ; and rather unfortunately, for there never was
a period during which its authority might have been
used with greater advantage to the public peace.
DUKE OF BURGUNDY ASSASSINATED. 129
Henry V, returned to follow up his victory. He
made himself master of Normandy ; Rouen surrendered
to him in January, 1419; and he thence advanced
towards Paris. These successes of a foreign enemy
naturally tended to unite the adverse parties. That of
Orleans had now at its head Charles the dauphin. He
was the fifth son of Charles VI. that had borne this
title, his four elder brothers having died successively.
Charles was a mere stripling, surrounded by the old
captains of the Armagnacs, who, under cover of a re-
conciliation in order to repel the English, meditated
to satisfy their private revenge upon the duke of Bur-
gundy. A conference was agreed on between the
duke and the dauphin. They were to meet on the
bridge of Montereau, each attended by ten knights.
The duke was repeatedly warned not to trust himself
to his enemies; but it was remarked, that, since the
massacre of Paris, he seemed infatuated, and that he
had lost his usual activity and prudence. He had no
sooner bent his knee before the dauphin, than Tanneguy
du Chatel pushed him down, and struck him with his
axe : the blow was followed up by others ; and the duke
of Burgundy fell murdered at the feet of the dauphin,
who did not deny his participation in the deed. Thus
John the Fearless encountered a fate similar to that
which he had inflicted on his rival and nephew, the
duke of Orleans.
Never was crime more impolitic. Paris became ir-
reconcilably hostile to the dauphin, Philip, the young
duke of Burgundy, thought but to revenge his father ;
and, hastening to Henry V., tendered to him the crown
of France, with the promise of his utmost aid to support
his claim. The treaty of Troyes was soon after con-
cluded between them, queen Isabel acting and signing for
the king. By this treaty, Henry V. espoused Catherine,
the daughter of Charles VI., and was to succeed to the
throne of France, the government of which immediately
devolved on him as regent, pending the incapacity
of the king. The duke of Burgundy did homage to
130 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1422.
Henry for his fiefs, and acknowledged him his future
sovereign. The magistrates, the people of Paris, and
the states-general assembled, were witnesses and parties
to the treaty ; nor did they murmur to see the kingdom
conveyed to a stranger, so profound was their hatred
of the dauphin and the party of Orleans. Henry V.,
however, did not live to wear the crown of France ; he
expired at Vincennes, in August, 1422. The helpless
Charles VI. survived him nearly two months.
There is no progress to record ; no institutions took
birth during this melancholy reign : civilisation, in a
moral view, much retrograded ; in a political view, made
no advance. A total want of principle or rational mo-
tive was equally observable in the individual and in the
mass. The sentiment of patriotism was utterly extin-
guished ; and with it the esprit du corps, the spirit of
caste or class, which gives vigour to the social frame,
and which, in a rude age especially, is far preferable to
that baser spirit of party, which consists not in principles
or political views, but in a mere blind attachment to
individuals or families, to a badge or a name. Church
and king, aristocracy and democracy, fade from the
scene as the reign of Charles VI. advances. The Bur-
gundian, indeed, for a brief space, gives to his cause a
popular colour, but soon ceases to affect this, or even
recollect it. The burgesses and nobles themselves be-
come too much absorbed in the quarrel, to form a third
or a national party. The nation, splitting itself to abet
personal feuds without a single principle or true interest
at stake, continuing them from that savage love of ven-
geance and that eagerness to retaliate crime by crime
which characterise the most barbarous and unformed
state of human society, disappears, and becomes extinct.
On the contrary, the parties both of Lancaster and York
were obliged not only to flatter the people, as Burgundy
commenced by doing, but to sanction their privileges
and to amend the abuses of government ; and thus
England, either from her compactness, public spirit, or
better fortune, acquired at a critical period an immense
1424. BATTLE OP VERNEUIL. 131
advantage over her neighbour in the race of political
civilisation.
France was now openly divided between rival monarchs.
The infant Henry VI. was proclaimed in Paris, and all
the northern parts of the kingdom obeyed his uncle, the
duke* of Bedford, as regent. The countries south of
the Loire acknowledged Charles VII., the late dauphin, a
youth of affable manners, amiable, and naturally weak in
character. Adversity, remedying the latter defect, had
rendered him prudent, crafty, and even bold j for with
the slaying of the duke of Burgundy he commenced his
career. WTienever the pressure of his foes relaxed so as
to allow him tranquillity, he manifested that love of plea-
sure which was the characteristic of the house of Valois.
He could not indulge, however, in the prodigality of his
uncles : the difficulty with which, at this time, he even
furnished his table is recorded. He rather inclined to
the pursuit of gallantry, the most venial of kingly vices.
By his enemies Charles was called, in derision, " the
little king of Bourges," from the town in which he
chiefly resided ; and so low had fallen his prospects and
resources, that this raillery to him must have had all the
bitterness of truth. Such were the neglect of discipline
and want of confidence in the French, since the day of
Azincourt, that he placed small reliance on them. Sol-
diers were solicited from Milan and from Scotland.
The earl of Buchan had arrived with 5000 or 6000 of
his countrymen to aid the dauphin, before the death of
the late king. He had defeated the English at Beauje,
where the duke of Clarence was slain. Charles was so
delighted with this first success of his cause, that he
created the earl of Buchan constable of France. These
advantages did not continue. A body of Scotch and
Spaniards, in the service of the dauphin, was defeated at
Crevant. At Verneuil a general engagement took place
between the English under the duke of Bedford, and
the united French and Scotch under the count de Nar-
bonne and the earls of Douglas and of Buchan. The
K 2
132 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1424.
French abandoned their custom of drawing up in se-
parate lines. Both armies gathered in a mass, the En-
glish flanked by their archers, the French by Lombard
horse. The Lombards appear to have been successful,
but soon abandoned fight for pillage. The mass of both
armies charged together, and there ensued a furious
melee, which lasted an hour. The French were routed.
Harcourt, Aumale, and Narbonne, as well as the earls
of Douglas and Buchan, were slain.
This was a dreadful blow for Charles : not a town
north of the Seine held out against the duke of Bedford;
and it was apprehended that, should he attempt to cross
that river, Charles was without an army to oppose him.
Fortune interfered, however, at this time, interrupted
the successes of the English, and finally broke off that
powerful alliance with Britany and Burgundy which
rendered them masters of the north. Jaqueline, heiress
of Hainault and Holland, had been given in marriage
by the duke of Burgundy, her feudal guardian, to the
duke of Brabant ; she was a woman of spirit and beauty,
and soon began to despise her husband, who was a
feeble character. She left him, fled to England, ob-
tained a nullification of her marriage vow from pope
Martin, and married the duke of Gloucester, brother of
the duke of Bedford, and his colleague in the regency.
Gloucester claimed his wife's heritage of Hainault, and
raised an army to support his pretensions ; thus expend-
ing in his private cause the resources which might have
been employed for the subjugation of France. Still
worse than this, the claim brought an English prince in
hostility with the duke of Burgundy, -who supported
his vassal of Brabant. Charles about the same time
won over the duke of Britany from England, through
the means of the count De Richemont, his brother ;
this prince had been taken at Agincourt, and had con-
ceived a mortal hatred to the English. The king gave
him the office of constable, vacant by the death of the
earl of Buchan ; and in return for this, the count de-
tached Britany from the interests of England. These
1428. SIEGE OF ORLEANS. 133
ill-timed quarrels and crosses checked the progress of
the duke of Bedford, who was obliged to return to
England; and Charles VII., in his retreat beyond the
Loire, enjoyed a couple of years' respite from the attacks
of his formidable adversaries.
Yet the interval was not occupied in defensive pre-
parations, but in those petty intrigues and struggles for
power which haunt even the shadow of a court. Charles
was much given to private friendship : this, which is a
virtue in ordinary life, proved a vice upon the throne ;
and the stern warriors, or the proud nobles, who would
not stoop to win the personal affection of the monarch,
looked with eyes of hate on those w r ho did. The new
constable, above all, could not bear a rival ; and the
king, who liked not his domineering character, always
offered one to him. De Giac, the favourite, was sur-
prised and carried off by order of the constable, who
put an end to his life by drowning. The king could
not exist without a private friend : he accepted one from
the constable, in Louis de la Tremouille, whom Riche-
mont soon found to be a rival and an enemy as trouble-
some as Giac.
The English at length resolved to strike a blow that
should decidedly crush the hopes of Charles. They
laid siege to Orleans, the principal town and support of
his party, its chief and last strong hold. Charles now-
felt that the struggle was for his crown. His bravest
captains flung themselves into the place, and every
exertion was made for a vigorous and successful resist-
ance. The enterprise undertaken by the English was
arduous. Orleans, washed by a broad and rapid river,
could not, but with great difficulty, be invested. The
earl of Salisbury first endeavoured to carry it by assault,
but was slain by a stone from an engine. Lord Suffolk,
who succeeded him, undertook the hopeless task of a
blockade ; but as the town was always free to ingress
and egress, at least of warriors, this operation was rather
a campaign than a siege. The bastard of Orleans, La
Hire, and Saintraille, were the heroes of the French.
K 3
134 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1428.
As the war ceased to be civil and grew national, heroism
and military talent sprung up. By the acknowledgment
of their own historian, the French learned skill and
discipline from their enemies. The three French leaders,
with John Stuart, constable of the Scotch, attacked an
English convoy under sir John Fastolffe : they were
routed ; and the Scotch, with their leader, were slain to
a man. It being time of Lent, the convoy was of her-
rings, and the action is known by this name. The
English still retained their superiority, and Orleans was
not likely long to hold out, when a personage, entrusted,
according to popular belief, with a celestial mission, came
to pluck courage from the hitherto stout hearts of the
besiegers, and give it, with all the enhancing force of
superstition, to the French.
This was Joan of Arc, a native of Domremi on the
Meuse, whose low condition, that of tending oxen, could
not stifle an enthusiastic and devout temperament. Pro-
phecies floated about the country that a virgin could
alone rid France of her enemies. Similar prophecies
respecting children and shepherds had prevailed during
the crusades, but had not proved fortunate. At an
early period these prophecies had fixed the attention of
Joan. In her lonely way of life, her imaginative spirit
dwelt on them ; they became identified with her religious
creed. During the state of ecstasy which devotion causes
in persons of such sensitive and enthusiastic character,
aught that flatters or exalts self is grasped with wild
avidity ; so closely is mortal baseness allied with our
aspirations after immortality. It could not but occur
to Joan, that she might be the object of these prophecies;
it was but a short and flattering step for her credulity
to suppose, to believe, that she was. The idea was
bright and dazzling ; she gazed upon it ; it became
the object of her constant meditation. When we see
that ill success or contradictory events can seldom dis-
sipate illusion in such cases, how strongly must her
successes have confirmed hers ! The prophecy, too, was
one that realises itself. To inspire confident hope of
1429- JOAX OF ARC. 135
victory was the surest way to win it ; and this she ef-
fected. Never, by human means alone, was miracle
wrought more effectually or more naturally.
Joan won first upon a knight to believe, at least not
to contemn, the truth of her mission ; which was to
deliver France from the English, to raise the siege of
Orleans, and bring Charles to be crowned at Rheims.
Her credit soon extended from knights to nobles.
Charles himself, in that crisis when men grasp at straws,
still dreaded the ridicule of being credulous, and the
danger of meddling with sorcery; a priest re-assured
him. The simple, modest, and pious conduct of Joan
herself gained upon the monarch, and even upon his
warriors. She was provided with armour, attendants,
troops ; and in this train entered Orleans. The besieged
were elated beyond measure ; the English, whom her
fame had already reached, were proportionally cast down.
Superstition was then the ruler of men's minds, the
great dispenser of hope and fear ; the immediate hand
of providence was seen in every event. The world did
not comprehend, nor could it have been reconciled to,
that long chain of causes and effects which separates,
it might be said which exiles, us of this day from
heaven, and renders the Deity, like his Platonic shadow,
careless and uncognizant of human destinies.
Joan soon sallied forth against the English entrench-
ments. Already, since the rumour of her presence,
they had abandoned the offensive, and even allowed a
convoy of provisions to enter the town between their
posts. The inactivity of superstitious terror was attri-
buted to Joan's magic influence, and became morally
infectious. Suffolk was driven from each of his bastilles,
or wooden towers, successively. A fort held by sir
William Gladesdale made the most stubborn resistance.
In vain, for a day's space, did the flower of the French
continually renew the assault ; Joan herself led them,
when she was transfixed by an arrow ; she fell, and
a woman's weakness for an instant showed itself:
she wept ; but this paroxysm of sensibility was akin
K 4
136 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1429.
to that of devotion. Her visions came, her protector
saint Michael appeared ; and, if we are to believe the
testimony of the French knights, she got up and fought
till the gallant Gladesdale was slain and his fort taken.
The English immediately raised the siege. Joan, hav-
ing accomplished so considerable a portion of her pro-
mises, would not allow the enemy to be pursued.
The gratitude of Charles was proportionate to the
benefits he had received. He no longer doubted the
divine mission of his preserver. A fresh victory gained
over the English at Patay, in which Fastolffe showed
a want of courage, and the gallant Talbot was made
prisoner, greatly increased the confidence of Charles.
Joan proposed to conduct him to be crowned at Rheims.
It was distant ; many strong towns, that of Troyes for
example, intervened, all garrisoned by hostile troops.
Still Joan prevailed and kept her word. Troyes sur-
rendered, and Rheims also, where the coronation of
Charles VII. fulfilled the mission of the maid of
Orleans. Paris itself was next attacked; but this was
too hardy an enterprise. Joan was wounded in an
assault upon the gate and boulevard St. Honore, and
the French were obliged to retreat. The exploits of
Joan were drawing to a term ; she was herself aware,
and hinted, that much longer time was not allowed her.
She was taken by the English as she headed a sortie
from Compiegne. Her capture was considered tanta-
mount to a victory : it was one, however, replete with
dishonour to the English. They bound and used every
cruelty towards the hapless maid of Orleans ; raised
accusations of sorcery against her, whose only crime
was man's first duty, to make a religion of patriotism.
With all the meanness and cruelty of inquisitors, they
laid snares for her weakness, and employed every effort
to shake her confidence in her own purity and vir-
tue. She yielded a moment under their menaces and
false promises, through exhaustion and hunger, but she
always rallied back to courage, averred her holy mis-
sion, and defied her foes. She was burnt in the old
14-37- CHARLES VII. RE-ENTERS PARIS. 137
market-place of Rouen, " a blessed martyr" in her
country's cause.*
In Joan of Arc the English certainly destroyed the
cause of their late reverses. But the impulse had been
given, and the crime of base vengeance could not stay
it. Fortune declared every where and in every way
against them. In vain was Henry VI. brought to Paris,
crowned at Notre Dame, and made to exercise all the
functions of royalty in court and parliament. The duke
of Burgundy, disgusted with the English, became at last
reconciled to Charles, who spared no sacrifice to win
the support of so powerful a subject. The amplest
possible amends were made for the murder of the late
duke. The towns beyond the Somme were ceded to
Burgundy, and the reigning duke was exempted from
all homage towards the king of France. Such was the
famous treaty of Arras, which restored to Charles his
throne, and deprived the English of all hopes of retain-
ing their conquests in the kingdom. The crimes and
misrule of the Orleans faction were forgotten ; popularity
ebbed in favour of Charles ; the prudence and success
with which he had retrieved his fallen fortunes augured
well for the firmness and wisdom of his reign. One of
the gates of Paris was betrayed by the citizens to the
constable and Dunois. Willoughby, the governor, was
obliged to shut himself up in the Bastile with his gar-
rison, from whence they retired to Rouen. Charles VII.
entered his capital, after twenty years' exclusion from it,
in November, 143?. Thenceforward the war lost its
serious character. Charles was gradually established on
his throne, and the struggle between the two nations was
feebly carried on, broken merely by a few sieges and
enterprises, mostly to the disadvantage of the English.
* Among the memorials of the defeat of the English preserved in
France, was a statue erected to Joan d'Arc in Orleans, and a rich banner
taken from the earl of Warwick at the siege of Montargis, which the inha-
bitants of the latter town were accustomed to bear in procession every year.
At the commencement of the Revolution, however, as Anquetil informs us,
it was considered unworthy to celebrate triumphs over England, the " classic
land of liberty ;" Warwick's flag was burned at Montargis, and the men of
Orleans threw down the statue of the Pucelle. In six months after (aads
he) the two nations were at war.
138 HISTORY OP PRANCE. 1437.
This return to order, this removal of civil discord
and a foreign enemy, restored to action the natural
springs of the political machine. The king, resuming
his power, gradually exerted it in ordonnances ; the no-
bility, or rather the princes of the blood, began to unite
and present remonstrances to the monarch. With the
view of forming an aristocratic party, the duke of Bur-
gundy procured the release of the duke of Orleans from
captivity, and a reconciliation took place between them,
which gave such umbrage to Charles, that he forbade
the latter to repair to court. A conspiracy was soon
after formed between the princes and La Tremouille
against the constable : Louis the dauphin, afterwards
Louis XI., joined in it. The activity of Charles,
however, anticipated the treason. The dauphin was
obliged to make submission. His friend, the bastard of
Bourbon, was tried, condemned, sewn up in a sack,
and drowned. The other planners of this disturbance,
called the Praguerie, were pardoned.
The church, too, was roused from her long slumbers,
but appeared inclined rather to limit than renew her
usurpations. A council was then assembled at Bale,
which was anxious to correct the most flagrant abuse
of the popedom by limiting its power. Notwithstand-
ing the opposition of the reigning pontiff, they decreed
divers propositions, which they forwarded to king
Charles for his adoption. The king held an assembly
of nobles, peers, prelates, and magistrates, and by them
the decrees of the council were accepted. They or-
dained, that a general council was superior in authority
to a pope ; they deprived the Roman pontiff of the right
of appointing to benefices, ruling that vacancies should
be filled up by the ancient mode of election. Annates,
or first year's revenues, were forbidden to be paid to the
pope : appeals to him were limited, almost prohibited ;
and papal bulls were declared of no authority in the
kingdom without the monarch's consent. These, drawn
up under the title of Pragmatic Sanction, similar in
name and spirit to the Pragmatic Sanction of St. Louis,
1444. BATTLE OF ST. JACQVES. 139
secured for many years the liberties and independence
of the Gallican church.
There had been frequent endeavours and conferences
towards a peace between the French and English. The
demands on either side proved irreconcilable. A truce
was however concluded, in 1444, which lasted four years;
it was sealed by the marriage of Henry VI. with Margaret
of Anjou, daughter of Rene, and grandaughter of Louis,
who had perished while leading an army to the conquest
of Naples. Such were the early graces and talents of the
young princess, afterwards so unfortunate, that, instead
of receiving a dowry with her, Henry gave the county of
Maine to her uncle. The truce embarrassed Charles by
the quantity of troops, which it was difficult to pay and
dangerous to disband. Austria was loudly calling for
aid against the Swiss. The opportunity was seized of
getting rid of the most turbulent of the bands. The
dauphin Louis led them to Bale on his march to the
mountains of Switzerland, and Burchard Monch, a rene-
gade Swiss, and an envoy of Austria, was to guide the
way. The free mountaineers, nothing alarmed by their
new enemies, and ill appreciating their force, despatched
1600 men against the 20,000 of the dauphin. The little
band in advancing were warned by the people of Bale of
their rashness. " Our souls, then, to God, and our bodies
to the Armagnacs," replied the gallant Swiss ; " for we
must on." They attacked the immense army of the
dauphin, and routed the two advanced divisions of it;
but, deserted by the militia of Bale, and surrounded by
numbers, all were slain. The battle of St. Jacques, as
this was called, gave to the French the first experience
of Swiss valour. The dauphin thought proper to pro-
secute the war no farther. Monch, the Swiss who had
guided the French, rode over the field of St. Jacques after
the action, and enjoyed the sight of his slaughtered foes
and compatriots. " We shall sleep to-night on roses!"
exclaimed he, exultantly. The exclamation roused to
life the indignant spirit of a captain of Uri, who lay
mortally wounded : he collected his remaining strength,
140 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1448.
lifted a huge stone, and throwing it at Monch, dashed to
pieces the eyes and face of the traitor, who soon after
expired.
The French king was wearied with the expense at-
tending the troops he had hitherto employed, and with
their want of discipline. All were gentlemen, forsooth;
the very archers rode on horseback, and were followed
by valets. The militia of the towns formed the only
infantry ; and they, from their nature, could absent them-
selves from their callings but for a short campaign.
Charles resolved to imitate the English, by training the
country population to arms. He, first of the French kings,
dispensed altogether with the feudal mode of raising
forces, and established a regular and a standing army.
He formed what were called companies of ordonnance, of
which there were fifteen, each commanded by a captain,
and consisting under him of 100 lancers and men at
arms; each man at arms followed by three archers, a
valet, and a coutillier, or short-sword man, similar to
those formerly called brigands, who used to penetrate
amongst cavalry in confusion, slaying men and horses
with their knives. In addition to this, the king soon
after ordered that each village of the kingdom should
furnish its most expert archer, who was to be paid in
time of war, and in peace was to be exempt from faille
or tax. These were the franc archers, an important
institution, which armed the peasants and called them
forth, not at their lord's bidding, but at the king's.
These reforms were a principal cause of the disaf-
fection among the nobility, of which the dauphin took
advantage to disquiet his father. Charles, however, now
that he was triumphant over the external enemies of the
state, no longer stooped to compromise differences with
internal foes. He caused the duke d'Alen9on, a prince of
the blood, to be arrested, for having formed a secret al-
liance with England : the duke was tried and condemned.
Charles kept him ever after in confinement. Prince
Louis retired to his government of Dauphiny, and con-
tinued his intrigues and reclamations. The king mani-
1453. DEATH OF TALBOT. 141
fested equal spirit and forbearance. He was ready to
pardon his son, but never to submit or concede to him.
In 1449 the truce was allowed to expire. The
quarrels of York and Lancaster had commenced, and
England was unable to defend her foreign possessions.
Normandy was invaded. The gallant Talbot could not
preserve Rouen with a disaffected population, and Charles
recovered without loss of blood the second capital of his
dominions. The only blow struck by the English for
the preservation of Normandy was at Fourmigny near
Bayeux. They had been successful in driving back
the count of Clermont, when the constable appeared with
a fresh army, attacked the English in turn, and routed
them. In the result of this action, Charles saw clearly
the advantages of his reform in the army. Native French
archers here faced their ancient rivals. Normandy was
for ever lost to the English after this action or skirmish.
The following year Guyenne was invaded by the count
de Dunois. He met with no resistance. The great
towns at that day had grown wealthy, and their maxim
was to avoid a siege at all hazards. Thus Bordeaux,
after having summoned the English by their public crier
to come to their assistance, a voice as likely to be heard
by the battling Yorkists and Lancastrians as if it had
been trumpeted in their isle, surrendered to Charles.
The submission of the Bordelais was, however, but short.
They rebelled; the veteran Talbot came to their aid, at
the head of 5000 English. The French were engaged
in the siege of Castillon, when Talbot marched against
them. His first approach drove in the franc archers.
This success emboldened him to attack the entrenched
camp of the French. Though now eighty years of age,
Talbot on foot led his men at arms to the assault.
The fight was bravely sustained on both sides, till the
English general was struck down by the fire of a culverin.
His son, lord Lisle, flung himself on the body of his
parent. " Fly, my son," said the expiring Talbot; " the
day is loet. It is your first action, and you may with-
out shame turn your back to the enemy." Lord Lisle,
142 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1453.
nevertheless, together with thirty nobles of England,
was slain befpre the body of Talbot. With that hero
expired the last hopes of his country in regard to
France. Guyenne was lost, as well as Normandy ; and
Calais remained to England the only fruit of so much
blood spilt and so many victories achieved.
Charles VII. reigned nearly ten years after he had
thus completed the conquest of his kingdom. During
that time the perverseness of the dauphin chiefly occu-
pied and plagued him. When the king advanced into
Dauphiny against his son, the prince fled to the court
of the duke of Burgundy, who received him with hospi-
tality and kindness. The duke himself had a similar
cause of uneasiness in the frowardness of his son, the
count of Charolois, afterwards Charles the Rash. How-
ever, the young count's turbulence was but the efferves-
cence of passion and hot temper ; that of the dauphin
was cold blooded, unrelenting, and full of guile. The
two young princes formed an intimacy that afterwards
broke out into rivalry and hate.
King Charles had seen so much of the licence and
spirit of insubordination of great towns, that he always
avoided to sojourn there. The burgesses of Paris, espe-
cially, rigid in their ideas of domestic virtue, looked with
evil eyes upon the monarch's gallantries, and even in-
sulted the beautiful Agnes Sorel, who has redeemed in the
eye of history her degradation as Charles's mistress, by
her patriotism, and by the zeal she displayed in rousing
the monarch from pleasure to the active duty of recover-
ing his kingdom. Agnes, called demoiselle du roi, was
the first of the subsequently long and disgraceful list of
king's mistresses. For the above reasons Charles resided
at remote chateaux, far from the capital, an example
followed by his successor. This rustication of king and
court was attended with important consequences, and
was not the least of the causes that contributed to render
absolute the royal authority. Charles suffered from an
abscess in the mouth at one of these retreats, Meung-
sur-Yevre : word was secretly brought to him that an
1461. CHARACTER OF CHARLES VII. 143
attempt was to be made to carry him off by poison.
Possessed by this idea, he refused all sustenance for
several days ; and when the physicians used force, the
action of the stomach could not be restored. He expired
on the 22d of July , 1461.
Charles VII. is represented in history as a weak cha-
racter, for whom fortune and friends did every thing.
Yet, had the record of his youth been lost, we should
esteem him the most politic, the most firm, the most
valiant of princes. His chief weakness was, that he
seemed willing to reconcile himself to adversity, and
even to amuse himself under its pressure. He was not
of a nature stubborn enough to struggle against a driving
tide ; but when it became somewhat favourable to him,
he was alert and sagacious to take it at the turn, and
it triumphantly bore him on to fortune. In no reign
was such progress made by the kingdom in the acquisi-
tion of force, solidity, and order, though not of freedom.
One enactment principally produced this effect : it was
that which re-organised the army. Not only was a
standing force created by this means, but a standing
revenue also. The financial part of the regulation,
though apparently subordinate, was by far the most im-
portant. The companies of ordonnance, or cavalry,
were paid by a taille levied on towns. And this tax,
from its evident utility, being universally submitted to,
placed in the hands of the government a revenue, which
was afterwards raised, increased, and applied at pleasure.
Charles VII., according to Comines, never levied more
than 1,800,000 livres in the year. His successor in-
creased it to 4,700,000. This tax, imposed by the royal
will, was the cause of the extinction of freedom in
France. No votes of money being required, the states-
general became useless : they were never summoned ;
a shade of their dignity was transferred to the parlia-
ment, which affected to represent them ; and all their
legislative functions were usurped and exercised by the
monarch. No writer of the present age could express
himself with more indignation on this subject, or with a
144 HISTORY OF FRANCE. l-l6l.
fuller sense of its injustice and evil consequences, than
Philip de Comines, the historian of that day. The
French nobles, says he, consented to this faille, for the
sake of pensions granted to them out of the sums levied
in their respective domains. Henceforward the French
gentleman held and supported the maxim, that the king
alone had the right of levying taxes without the consent
of the subject; a principle the reverse of that -which
ivas maintained in England by all the classes of the com-
munity. Here, then, did the two countries diverge into
different paths; the one towards despotism, the other to
constitutional freedom.
CHAP. V.
1461 1515.
FROM THE ACCESSION OF LOUIS XI. TO THAT OF FRANCIS I.
THE rivalry between the French and the English formed
the chief action of the period which we have just tra-
versed. During that time the political regards of France
were directed northwards. She had few relations with
the kingdom separated from her by the Pyrenees. Italy
was almost equally neglected : despite the claims of the
house of Anjou upon Naples and Sicily, which were en-
forced neither by alliances nor by arms. The king, se-
parated by Burgundy from the dominions of the emperor,
seldom, if ever, extended his views beyond the Rhine.
The monarchy was struggling on its own soil for its
existence. Now, however, we enter upon another period,
when, delivered from the hostile weight of England,
increased and united in territory, its powers and re-
sources placed at the disposal of an absolute sovereign,
France began to seek conquests and enemies beyond her
own limits. She turned her views south towards Italy,
whither the French monarchs were carried by their pri-
1 -l6l. ACCESSION OF LOVIS XI. 115
vatc claims and passions, rather than by the interests or
wishes of their people. It was during these wars that
the great states of Europe found themselves, for the first
time, interested in the same struggle, and in the imme-
diate relations of either alliance or enmity with each
other. During this ensuing period, therefore, was formed
that European confederacy which still exists, and of
which the republics of ancient Greece offer, on a dimi-
nutive scale, the only prototype.
Louis XI. was at the court of Burgundy when he
heard of his father's death. The duke, who had always
afforded him hospitality and protection, now showed the
submission of a subject ; he did homage to the new
king for his possessions, and proposed to accompany him
to Rheims with his court and army. The suspicions of
Louis made him dispense with the attendance of the
latter. The duke and the Burgundian court alone were
present at the coronation.
The new king was of an ungainly and ill-favoured
person, with large head, small limbs, and an unprepos-
sessing deportment. Consciousness of those defects
made him contemn personal qualities in general, as well
as those who prized them : thus he despised courts and
courtiers, knights and tournaments; he shunned men of
noble and princely rank choosing in lieu of them, for
his ministers and officers, people of low birth who dis-
played talent, and who could be attached and submis-
sive. His first acts showed more self-will than pru-
dence : he felt great indignation against the counsellors
of his father ; they were all obliged to fly, and Louis
carried his resentment so far as to annul the political
acts of the late reign. Thus he repealed the pragmatic
sanction, and sought to restore to the pope the right of
nominating prelates ; but his parliament resisted, and
Louis soon after abandoning ah 1 his selfish resentments,
the law against clerical usurpations remained in force.
The same contrariety to his father's opinions and mea-
sures contributed to bind the king in gratitude to the
duke of Burgundy, and in friendship to the duke's son
VOL, I. I,
146 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1 162.
the count of Charolois : but this soon gave way to the
jealous and encroaching temper of Louis. He sought to
levy the gabelle tax in Burgundy. The duke sent his
ambassador, De Chimay, to protest. " Who is this
duke of Burgundy ?" exclaimed the king; " is he of a
different metal from the other nobles of my kingdom ? "
" Yes, sire," replied De Chimay, "he is of a very dif-
ferent metal ; for he alone amongst them received and
supported you, when you excited and fled from the
anger of king Charles, your father." " How dared you
use such language to the king ?" exclaimed Dunois to
Chimay. ' ' Dared ! " said the Burgundian ; " I tell you,
were I fifty leagues off, and thought the king had an
idea of using to me the words he has used, I would have
returned to answer him."
Duke Philip was now in years, and age had robbed
him of his wonted firmness and sagacity. Louis found
that in personal interviews he could soothe, persuade,
and wheedle the old duke ; the king, therefore, paid
frequent visits to the court of Burgundy, during which
he effected many of his schemes. One of them was the
recovery of the towns on the Somme, Amiens, Abbeville,
and St. Quentin, which had been mortgaged to the duke
for a large sum. Louis paid it, and recovered posses-
sion. The son and heir of Burgundy, the count of
Charolois, was highly enraged at these intrigues of the
king and the weakness of his father, and great enmity
sprang up between the prince and the king of France.
Almost all the great nobles were discontented with
Louis. A despot from natural character as well as from
policy, self-willed, jealous alike of rivalry or control,
his continued efforts had been directed to humble them.
He had stripped them of all their influential offices,
their commands, their pensions. The duke of Bour-
bon was deprived of the government of Guyenne ; the
count Dunois found himself a cipher at court, without
place or power ; other nobles were in prison. Louis
intrigued against the duke of Britany, against the
prince of Burgundy, and he even despatched an emis-
" WAR OF THE PUBLIC GOOD." 147
sary to seize and carry off the latter. The nobility,
universally malcontent, united against the king, who
was alarmed when he saw the storm about to burst.
Louis hurried off on a pilgrimage to some shrine, al-
ways his first resource when in difficulties; sought to
intimidate the duke of Britany; and at length marched
to crush the weakest of the leagued princes, the duke of
Bourbon. In the mean time the king's brother, the
duke of Berri, made his escape, and joined the army of
the league. Proclamations were scattered, addressed to
the people, complaining of the tyranny and faults of the
government, and declaring that the nobles had taken up
arms, " solely for the public good." Hence this war
was called " the war of the public good." The king on
his side issued counter-manifestoes ; and this appeal,
the first instance of the kind, made by both sides to the
people, shows the growth of the commons in respecta-
bility and importance, although they were shut out from
political power.
Whilst the king was in the Bourbonnais, the count
of Charolois led his army before Paris, and passed it,
in order to intercept Louis, who was returning to the
defence of his capital. The two armies met at Monti
Iheri ; a skirmish commenced ; and aid coming to both
parties, the action became general. The king defeated
the wing of the Burgundians opposed to him ; and
Charles, equally successful on his side, was engaged in
hot pursuit when he was recalled by the news of his par-
tial defeat. The long peace had destroyed warlike
habits and skill ; and the generals knew as little how
to command as the soldiers how to fight. The king
succeeded in his' purpose of entering Paris, and a
treaty was concluded, in which he yielded to Burgundy
the towns on the Somme for which he had paid so
dearly. The government of Normandy was given by
Louis to his young brother the duke of Berri ; and
towns, domains, in short all that they demanded, to the
other princes. The count of St. Pol, general and friend
of the count of Charolois, was created constable by
148 HISTORY OF FRANCE. l-iG8.
Louis, not without some hopes of exciting jealousy be-
tween him and Burgundy by so rich a boon. Thus, as
Comines remarks, was the war of the public good
turned and terminated to private advantage.
The king, however, had yielded solely to the pressure
of circumstances. He ceded every thing ; aware that,as
Boon as the league was dissolved, he should find means
of recovering all that had been wrested from him. Thus,
in the following year, having won over the duke of
Bourbon, Louis took Normandy from his brother, and
deprived the duke of Britany of all his advantages.
Duke Philip of Burgundy had died in the mean time ;
the count of Charolois, known in history as Charles the
Bold, or the Rash, was his successor. The new duke
was wroth against the king, on account of the non-
execution of the treaty, and menaced war. Louis, who
had a high opinion of his own address, and who remem-
bered that he had always soothed and won the good will
of duke Philip in personal interviews, resolved to try the
the same means with duke Charles. The constable St.
Pol, who negotiated between them, and was anxious for
an accommodation, represented the duke's temper and
demands as less extreme than they were. The king re-
quested a safe conduct, and galloped, with few followers,
to Peronne, where the duke of Burgundy then held his
court. He was received with all outward deference, yet
had reason to suspect that the enmity of the duke was
much deeper than had been represented to him. His
enemies were numerous, and in favour at the duke's
court ; and some troops, under the command of the
marshal of Burgundy, his declared foe, were encamped
near Peronne. The king, beginning to be alarmed, de-
manded to have his head-quarters removed to the castle.
In the interview of the next day Louis found that he
had over-rated the duke's flexibility, as well as his own
address ; it was impossible to bend him, or win a single
concession. Meanwhile tidings arrived that the people
of Liege, stirred up by the emissaries of the king, had
rebelled; had seized their bishop and the duke's lieute-
1468. IXH7IS XI. AT PERONNE. 149
r.ant, and had committed many atrocities ; report added
that the bishop had been slain : the truth, however, was
that an archdeacon, who was the prelate's standard-
bearer, was the principal person murdered. Charles
ilew into a rage at this news ; he declared that the
king had come thither to lull him into false security,
whilst his intrigues excited rebellion in his dominions.
The gates of both the town and the castle were instantly
ordered by him to be closed. Shrinking, however, from
the act of imprisoning his sovereign, the duke pretended
that these measures were taken merely for discovering a
casket of jewels that had been lost. Charles had now the
late of the kingdom in his power : the monarch was his
prisoner ; and such was the bad faith of Louis, as well as
the general hatred borne to him, that to deprive him of
his crown would have been an act neither unpopular nor
wholly unjustifiable. The duke of Bern, the brother,
whom Louis had just deprived of Normandy, might
ascend the throne : a messenger, prepared and booted,
was in readiness to bear a message to this prince ; but
duke Charles hesitated: he wanted courage or decision
for so serious a step. Anger inflamed and inclined him
to listen to vengeance. His sage and prudent counsellor,
Comines (the historian of the period), soothed his ire,
and recommended an accommodation. Charles could
not sleep with irresolution ; he would not retire to rest,
but continued for the whole of the third night pacing
up and down his chamber. At length he became calm,
and consented to release the king, provided Louis would
accompany him against the Liegeois, whom he had
stirred up. The king, who passed days and nights of
melancholy and anxious suspense, confined in a tower in
which a count of Vermandois had murdered Charles the
Simple, was glad to obtain release on any condition,
however galling ; and he accordingly marched in com-
pany with Charles against the mutinous burgesses of
Liege. These unfortunate men offered to submit, but
Charles would not listen to them. They were worsted
in an attempt to surprise the duke and the king ; their
i. 3
150 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1468,
city was taken by storm, and suffered all the pillage and
massacre practised on such occasions. After having
thus been an involuntary witness of the destruction of
his allies, Louis was allowed to depart.
It had been agreed at Peronne, that the duke of Berri
should have the government of Champagne, in lieu of
Normandy, of which he had been deprived. Cham-
pagne being on the borders of Burgundy, the prince
would have had always a ready support in the duke
against the king. This reason made the monarch ag
unwilling to grant Champagne as Charles was inexorable
in demanding it. Louis offered to his brother the pro-
vince of Guyenne in lieu of Champagne ; and by gain-
ing the prince's favourite he succeeded in making him
agree to the exchange. It was upon this occasion
that the king discovered the treachery of one of his
ministers, La Balue, the son of a tailor, whom he had
raised to the dignity of cardinal. His ecclesiastical
character saved his life ; but Louis confined him in an
iron cage, in the castle of Loches, for the rest of his
days.
The blunder which the French king committed in
trusting himself to the duke of Burgundy was the
thought uppermost in his mind : to have been outwitted
was more galling than a substantial loss to him, who
prided himself in his sagacity, and whose power was
founded much upon his character for wisdom. He
never would allude to the treaty of Peronne, nor would
he bring himself to utter the name, ordering his Serjeants
to wring off the necks of some poor jays, that had been
taught to cry " Peronne" in derision. Pretexts for war
against Burgundy could not be wanting. In the quarrel
then raging between the factions of York and Lancaster,
Louis and Charles espoused different sides, which led to
mutual recrimination. The king feared, however, to
combat singlehanded against so potent an adversary.
An intrigue which alienated, or appeared to alienate,
from the duke many of his allies, emboldened the king
to declare war. Duke Charles had an only child, Mary,
1472. DUKE OF BERRI POISONED. 151
his (laughter and heir : she was eagerly sought by the
king's brother, late duke of Berri and Normandy, now
duke of Guyenne. Burgundy, who was chagrined by
the prospect that his rich inheritance might pass into the
hands of another race, would by no means promote this
marriage, though he did not object to the suitor. The
duke of Guyenne urged the king to war, hoping that
Burgundy's distress would compel him to grant lu's
daughter's hand in order to obtain friends and aid. The
constable St. Pol excited the king against duke Charles
for the same reason, also for the sake of the emolument
and importance of which peace deprived him. War was
declared. The count de St. Pol won St. Quentin for
the king by treachery ; and Amiens was lost to the
duke by the same means. A truce followed, in which
Charles and Louis communicated with each other, and
found they were both tricked by the constable. A com-
plicated intrigue ensued ; the duke of Burgundy consent-
ing to give his daughter to the duke of Guyenne, pro-
vided that he, with the duke of Britany, the constable,
and Edward of England, would unite against the king.
Louis was here well nigh over-reached for the second
time. To appease Charles, who advanced with a pow-
erful army, he agreed to give up Amiens and St. Quen-
tin, as also the constable, to the duke of Burgundy; the
latter abandoning his allies, the dukes of Britany and
Guyenne. Both determined not to execute the part of
the treaty which was disadvantageous to them. Charles
wrote to the dukes of Britany and Guyenne, declaring
that he would not abandon them. Louis either ex-
tricated himself, or was extricated, from all difficulties
respecting his brother, by the death of that prince, which
took place suddenly and opportunely. A poisoned peach,
which was presented to him, and of which he himself
and his mistress partook, occasioned the death of both.
Louis, who always compensated a crime by a signal act
of piety, invented on this occasion the angelus,. or mid-
day prayer to the Virgin. After such a passage of his-
tory as the foregoing, one may be permitted to doubt
i. 4
152 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 14-75.
that Italy was the original birthplace of political trea-
chery and intrigue. Machiavel, by whose writings
France is supposed to have become infected with du-
plicity and the habitual dereliction of all public morals,
was only born about this period ; and truly Louis XI.,
the constable St. Pol, and even the headlong Charles of
Burgundy himself, seem personages most qualified to
afford a lesson to the Florentine secretary himself.
The death of the duke of Guyenne broke off the
treaty. Charles was enraged, and entered Picardy, ra-
vaging and massacring the population by way of
revenge. His cruelty here acquired him the name cf
Charles the Terrible. He was repulsed, however, in an
attack on Beauvais. A woman named Jeanne Hachettc
was the first to give the alarm, and to repel the Bur-
gundians. An annual procession, in which females take
precedence, still subsists in memory of her valour. A
truce concluded the campaign.
It was manifest, that either from want of military
hardihood and skill, or from the lukewarmness of sol-
diers and commanders, a decisive blow could not be
struck between France and Burgundy. Both parties
grew weary of bringing armies into the field to no pur-
pose ; and although nominal war and real enmity sub-
sisted, the rival princes had leisure to turn their views
in another direction. Louis was at variance with the
king of Aragon respecting the province of Roussillon,
which he held by a species of mortgage, and which the
Aragonese had attacked. A compromise was effected,
the province being divided between the competitors.
But the object to which the French king chiefly applied
himself was the humbling and punishing of his refrac-
tory nobles. The duke of Alen<^on was thrown into
prison, and his duchy confiscated : the count of Ar-
magnac, grandson of the famous constable, was next
aimed at ; but, shut up in Lectour, he defied the power
and vengeance of the king. The royal troops besieged
the place, and its reduction was found impracticable :
icrms were therefore offered to the count. During the
1473. ARMAGNAC ASSASSINATED. 153
negotiation the besieged relaxed in their vigilance, and
the king's general treacherously attacking, Lectour was
carried, and the inhabitants were massacred. Two
officers suddenly entered the apartment where the count
and his countess were sitting. The former saluted
them. They replied by striking the count, and putting
an end to his life. His unfortunate wife, saved for the
moment, was found to be enceinte. To her a potion
was administered to destroy in embryo the heir of the
house of Armagnac ; and it also proved fatal to the
countess.
The duke of Burgundy was weary of playing the
subordinate part of a feudatory of France. He sur-
passed the king himself in wealth and power, and yet
was curbed and humbled in dignity by a suzerain, and
especially by Louis, who took every opportunity to
thwart and encroach upon his overgrown vassal. To
conclude a treaty which should define the duties and
at the same time guard the independence of the latter
was impossible. Charles, seeing no other way to extri-
cate himself from this awkward and mortifying state,
aspired to sovereignty. He hoped that by extending
his dominions on the side of Germany he might be
able to renounce his subjection to France, and induce
the emperor to acknowledge him as an independent
sovereign. The bribe by which he hoped to influence
that potentate was certainly a great one : it was the
hand of his daughter and heiress Mary, who, if united
to Maximilian, the emperor's son, would convey to the
house of Austria the extensive territories of Burgundy.
By purchase Charles obtained the duchy of Gueldres,
as also the county of La Ferrette and a part of Alsace,
from the duke of Austria. He meditated to seize upon
Lorraine, of which the last duke of the house of Anjou
had died without heirs. Rene count of Vaudemont
pretended to the succession of that duchy in right of his
mother, daughter of Rene d' Anjou. The people of the
province preferred him to the duke of Burgundy, and
opposed the latter, who failed in getting possession of
154- HISTORY OF FRANCE. 14-70.
the town of Metz. Still Charles pursued his ambitious
schemes. An interview took place between him and the
emperor Frederic, in which the duke was to have been
declared Icing of Belgic Gaul, and lieutenant-general of
the empire: Charles, however, here defeated his own
views by his ostentation and finesse. The emperor and
his ministers were disgusted with both. Charles wished
to have his title acknowledged ere he allowed his daugh-
ter to be betrothed ; and, whilst he held out stubbornly
on this point, the emperor departed abruptly without
leave-taking. Thus did Charles over-reach himself.
All the rich regalia that he had prepared to honour his
new dignity became useless.
The duke of Burgundy resolved not to be wanting in
the pride and arrogance of a monarch, though the title
was denied him. His new empire was to include the
whole course of the Rhine from its source. Sigismund
duke of Austria abandoned to him willingly those claims
of sovereignty over Switzerland which he himself could
not make good. Hagenbach, Charles's governor in his
new province, used every species of extortion and vio-
lence towards the Swiss ; and the duke, when appeal was
made to him, offered insult in lieu of redress. " We
must skin this bear of Berne," said he, " and clothe
ourselves in his fur." While causes of irritation between
the duke and the Swiss formed a prelude to war, and
while the enmity of the latter towards Louis still conti-
nued so inveterate that an alliance was formed between
him and Edward of England for conveying the crown of
France to the latter, Charles and Louis came to a mo-
mentary understanding for the sake, of avenging them-
selves on the constable St. Pol, who had betrayed each in
turn, and was equally odious to both. The constable, who
had possessed himself of St. Quentin, made overtures
to both parties, and offered the town to make peace with
either. He had an interview with the king on the
bridge of Noyon, with a wooden barrier raised between
them, which was adduced as a criminal piece of arro-
gance on the part of St. Pol. He afterwards fled to
I IT'"'- WAR OF CHARLES AGAINST THE SWISS. 156
the protection of Burgundy ; but the duke delivered
him to the king, who caused him to be tried before his
parliament, and afterwards beheaded in the Place de
Greve.
Edward IV. was induced to invade France by the
duke of Burgundy, who, instead of joining with the
English, kept his troops employed in the conquest of
Lorraine. Edward, who loved pleasure even more than
glory, was bought off by Louis, who observed on the
occasion, that no sum could be ill expended in bribing
the English to keep within their isle.* " As to money,
that can be regained," said Louis ; " but never will I
yield up towns or lands to such enemies." He at the
same time treated with the Swiss, paid them subsidies,
and even succeeded so far in exciting enemies to Bur-
gundy, that he reconciled those free mountaineers with
the house of Austria, and united both in league against
the duke. The inhabitants of La Ferrette were excited
to rebel against Charles's lieutenant, Hagenbach, whom
they took and beheaded. The Swiss aided the insur-
gents, declared war against the duke, and defeated his
troops at Hericourt.
Charles of Burgundy had never yet encountered an
enemy superior to him. The gallant knights of France
and the stubborn burgesses of Flanders had alike been
quelled by him in the field. His rage was proportionate
to his surprise on finding himself braved by the Swiss
mountaineers. He marched against them from Lor-
raine, the conquest of which he had completed, at the
head of 40,000 men. Charles's natural pride of cha-
racter was inflated by the study of the Roman classics,
the taste for which was just then reviving and super-
seding that for feudal romance. The reader must
be aware that the fall of the Greek empire and the in-
vention of printing were events anterior to this period
by some years, and had contributed to render even more
* Six hundred pipes of excellent wine formed part of the bribe which
tenrpted Kdward upon this occasion; this caused many railleries against
the English.
156 HISTORY OF FRANCE.
known and popular the names and achievements of Rome.
Hannibal was the hero whose prowess then caught
the fancy of Charles ; and to surmount the Alps, like the
Carthaginian general, was now his glorious aim. The
patriotism and valour that armed the Swiss in their own
defence was equally enthusiastic, though unlearned and
indigenous. Still they sent envoys to avert the wrath of
Burgundy, and to offer amends and submission in return
for justice. " You have little to gain with us," said
the Swiss ambassador to the duke ; " the golden bits of
your bridles, the spurs of your knights, are more in
value than all our land contains." The duke would
neither listen to counsel nor hear of submission. He
marched into Switzerland through the valley of the
Arve, in the month of February, 14-76'. He besieged
Granson, the first place that made resistance. The
garrison, though brave, were tricked by a renegade Swiss
called Ramschwag, then in the duke's service, to sur-
render. They were in number about 500. Charles
instantly ordered them to be put to death ; some were
hanged, some drowned. This cruelty exasperated the
Swiss. Each canton furnished its contingent, and an
army of 20,000 men marched against the Burgundians.
The duke had a strongly entrenched camp at Granson,
but scorning such advantage against the Swiss peasants,
he advanced to meet them on the road to Neufchatel;
thus offering battle in a hilly region, where his numerous
cavalry could prove of no advantage. The two armies
met on the 2d of March. The Swiss foot, embodied in
large masses, and armed with long halberds, bore down
the Burgundian knights, who in vain resisted. Charles
had a few archers, and no infantry in the advance ; thus
committing the usual mistake of the French, in deeming
mounted gentlemen able to repel twice their number of
peasants on foot. The Burgundian flank was soon
turned by other bands of the Swiss mountaineers,
amongst whom the huge and terrific horns of Uri and
Unterwalden were heard to blow. The battle became
instantly a rout : the Burgundians and their duke fled ;
DEFEAT AT GBANSON. 157
losing, indeed, few of their numbers, as the Swiss had no
cavalry to pursue, but leaving to the conquerors the
plunder of a camp which rivalled that of Xerxes in lux-
ury and splendour. Silken tents attached with cords of
golden wire, velvets, tapestry, pearls, and jewels in
profusion, became the property of the amazed victors.
Plate was flung away as pewter. The large diamond
which the duke wore customarily at his neck was found
in a box of pearls ; it was at first rejected as a bauble,
then taken up again, and sold for a crown. It was
afterwards purchased by the pope for 20,000 ducats,
and still adorns the papal tiara. Another equally beau-
tiful diamond, won at Granson, was bought by
Henry VIII., afterwards given by his daughter Mary to
her husband, Philip II., and now belongs to Austria.
As duke Charles fled from the Alps and their fierce in-
habitants in the rout of Granson, his fool cried to him,
" Ha ! my lord, are we not finely Hannibalised ?"
The king of France had taken up his residence at
Lyons, in order to watch the motions of the duke and to
profit by his reverses. One of Charles's schemes for
aggrandisement was to induce Rene d'Anjou, who was
dissatisfied with Louis, to make a bequest of Provence
and his other possessions in favour of Burgundy. Rene
had shown himself obsequious in this respect, as did
the duchess of Savoy and the duke of Milan ; but on
the disaster of Granson all the allies of Charles forsook
him, and Louis secured to himself the rich succession
of the house of Anjou, then about to be extinct : he at
the same time encouraged the Swiss with subsidies and
fair words.
Charles was during this period at Lausanne, recruiting
his shattered army. He was so dreadfully dejected,
that he allowed his beard to grow ; and, though con-
stitutionally of that hot temperament which forbids all
vinous indulgence, his chief refection being conserve of
roses, yet he now took copious draughts of wine to
drown and dissipate his chagrin. By degrees, however,
he remoulded his army, recovered his spirits, his cou-
158 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1 \~C).
rage, and almost his confidence ; and in June of the
same year, three months after the defeat of Granson,
Charles marched with a fresh army into the heart of
Switzerland. He encamped at Morat, within six leagues
of Berne, and instantly invested the place. The Swiss
collected their forces and marched to its relief. Rene
de Vaudemont duke of Lorraine had now joined his
aid to theirs, and brought them what they most wanted,
a formidable body of cavalry. The force of the Swiss
exceeded 30,000 : the duke's force was scarcely so nu-
merous, and was far inferior in confidence and hardi-
hood ; but, like a desperate gamester, he would play his
stake although every chance was against him.
The captains of Burgundy counselled Charles to lead
his force into the plain, where his cavalry might act;
but he was now impatient of dictation. Near the lake
of Morat he stationed his left, chiefly composed of
Italian mercenaries ; the centre was commanded by
Crevecceur ; he himself kept the right, with a body of
English under the duke of Somerset, and his archers on
horseback. The Swiss, as was customary with them,
knelt down in line, uttered a short prayer, and then
rushed against their enemies. On this occasion the re-
doubtable infantry of the mountains were kept in check
by the Burgundian knights, fighting under cover of their
artillery and camp entrenchments. The action was
for a time doubtful ; but the cavaliers of Burgundy
having all dismounted to defend their entrenchments,
the Lorraine horse swept the right wing ; and a body
of Swiss, being thus enabled to turn it, attacked the
camp in flank and rear whilst it was still vigorously
assaulted in front. Cannon and entrenchments here
became useless ; the struggle was hand to hand. So-
merset and his English, together with the best knights
of Burgundy, perished ; and victory was completely in
the hands of the Swiss : they were merciless in their
triumph ; they took no prisoners, and spared not an
enemy. All were massacred ; and the vanquishers being
now provided with cavalry, the flight was more destruc-
1477. BATTLE OF MOHAT. 15Q
-tive than the action. Many sought refuge in the lake ;
and even thither they were pursued by their mer-
ciless enemies. The Swiss were resolved that the Bur-
gundians should not rally a second time, to attempt a
third invasion. " Cruel as at Moral," was for a long
while a Swiss proverb. When time had decomposed the
bodies of the slain, the bones were collected in a chapel
called the Ossuary of Morat, which for ages remained
as a trophy to Swiss valour and independence. The
French revolutionary army destroyed it in 1798.
Charles escaped this field also, and for a long time
concealed his grief and mortification at Salins. Like
Napoleon in his reverses, neither humbled nor schooled,
but merely angered by ill fortune, he called on his sub-
jects for levies, for armies ; not to secure their safety,
but to avenge his own disgrace. Every where, in Bur-
gundy as in Flanders, he found discontent and lack of
zeal. Rene de Vaudemont seized the opportunity of
recovering his heritage of Lorraine : though he was
unable to raise an army, yet such was the discouragement
of the Burgundians that he still met with success ; and
Nancy, the capital of the province, surrendered to him.
This roused the duke of Burgundy ; he quitted Salins,
and with such force as he could muster, amounting to
about 6'000 men, laid siege to Nancy in October of the
same fatal year, 1476. Rene de Vaudemont flew to
the Swiss, his allies and comrades, for aid. Although
interest and gratitude urged them to support him, still
the soldiers of the confederacy would not stir till large
payments and larger promises were made to them. This
barter of their valour for gold is the great blot on the
Swiss character. Charles in the mean time was losing
his temper and his little army before Nancy in vain,
during one of the most rigorous winters ever known.
It was not till January, 1477, that Rene with his allies
could come to the relief of the town. Charles was
counselled, in the present weak state of his army, to
avoid his formidable enemies ; but he scorned to retreat.
He was attacked by the Swiss and by Rene, in a me-
l62 HISTOBY OF FRANCE. 1-182.
them from the field. The infantry on either side re-
mained on their ground ; but the Flemish burgesses
were far superior to the French franc archers, and ad-
vancing, routed them with ease. The previous success
of the cavalry yielded no advantage, and the Flemings
gained a decided victory.
It was after tlu's defeat that Louis abolished the in-
stitution of franc archers altogether ; he disliked the
fashion of arming the French peasantry. Instead of re-
quiring from each village an archer, Louis levied a cer-
tain sum, with which he proposed to pay an army of
Swiss. The French infantry, still maintained, was armed
by him after the Swiss fashion, with pike, halberd, and
two-handed sword. At any rate, a change was univer-
sally taking place, by which the arquebuss superseded
the bow and arrow.
The defeat of Guinegate humbled the hopes of Louis.
The war was no longer prosecuted with vigour. Even
the death of Mary of Burgundy, which soon after took
place, afforded him no opportunity of adding to his
usurpations. A treaty, called the treaty of Arras, was
concluded between him and Maximilian, in December,
1482. Its stipulations were, that the dauphin Charles
should espouse Margaret of Austria, Maximilian's daugh-
ter ; and that France should acquire, as her dowry, the
county of Artois, and that of Burgundy (or Franche-
Comte), with other territories; those possessions reverting
to Austria in case no heirs came of the marriage. Inde-
pendently of these cessions, Louis acquired the duchy or
province proper of Burgundy, as well as that of Picardy,
as his share of the spoils of Charles. About the same
time, on the death of the good king Re'ne, he inherited
Provence and Anjou. Rene II. of Lorraine made some
efforts to establish a claim, but in vain. Good fortune
never crowned political craft more completely than in
the instance of Louis XI. That monarch had now
brought all his favourite schemes to their completion :
his nobles were humbled ; his great rival was destroyed.
He still gave his restless spirit occupation in the chase.
1483. DEATH OF LOUIS XI. 1 63
Retired in his castle of Plessis removed altogether from
his family without a court isolated even from his
ministers, who inhabited the neighbouring town of Tours,
he amused himself in his domain with agriculture :
he established a Flemish dairy, and gave his royal atten-
tion even to the making of butter. Executions, of which
he was equally fond, mingled with these more innocent
amusements ; and Tristan the hermit, his provost, was
one of his most constantly occupied attendants. An
anecdote of the king's summary justice is told by Bran-
tome. Once, when in public, he perceived a certain
captain whom he knew to be ill affected to him. The
monarch winked to his provost: Tristan thought that
the object of the king's justice was a fat monk who stood
next to the captain ; accordingly, the good monk was
forthwith seized, sewn in a sack, and flung into the
river. The captain, who saw the mistake, had in the
mean time fled to Amiens. The king reproached Tristan,
who avowed the error. " Paques Dieu!" exclaimed the
monarch ; " 'twas the best monk in my dominions. Let
half a dozen masses be said for him to-morrow."
The hand of the great executioner was at length laid
on Louis, who showed all the alacrity of his most timid
victim to avoid his fate. He made numbers of pilgrim-
ages, and was incessant in his vows. It was said that he
had recourse even to earthly aid, and drank blood drawn
from the veins of infants, to revive the failing current of
his own. He was twice struck with apoplexy : the last
attack proved fatal to him. Louis died on the 30th of
August, 1483, having survived his contemporary Ed-
ward IV. of England but a few weeks.
The union of oddness with sagacity forms a mixture
of human character, which, by a perverse kind of taste,
we like to contemplate. Such a specimen of this com-
bination as Louis XI. exhibited was never seen upon a
throne. Although he was as tyrannical, as crafty, and as
cruel, as our Henry VIII., still the French king is almost
a favourite with the reader of history, whilst Henry is
abhorred. Louis possessed a bonhonmtie, a comic humour,
.11 2
l6'l HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1483.
which has thrown his atrocious cruelties into the shade.
His very absurdities plead against an unfavourable judg-
ment ; and in smiling at the weaknesses, we almost par-
don the iniquity, of his nature. That strange contrast of
profound sagacity in all sublunary concerns, with the
childish folly and pusillanimity in ideas of religion and
celestial influence, which were pretty much the charac-
teristics of the age, was carried, in Louis, to the far-
thest verge of all that can provoke ridicule or command
admiration. His crimes, also, were partly those of the
age ; and, in a political view, they were scarcely more
than proportioned to the great end that the monarch con-
templated. Such a compound of weakness and wisdom,
policy and superstition, cowardice and courage, joined
with all that is strange in person, manner, habiliments,
thoughts, makes Louis a character ready drawn to the
hand of the imaginative writer. It defies exaggeration,
and rivals in boldness and humour aught that fiction
can create.
The son of Louis XI. was but thirteen years of age
when he ascended the throne, with the title of Charles
VIII. Brantome calls him Charles the Little: he was
weak, ill-formed, and sickly ; his mind was not more
developed than his person, the jealous Louis having
denied the young prince all education as well as exer-
cise. The last dispositions of Louis had entrusted the
care of the king to his daughter Anne, wife of the lord of
Beaujeu, a brother of the house of Bourbon. She found
a competitor in the duke of Orleans, who, as first prince
of the blood, pretended, at least, to share the sovereign
authority. The principal nobles espoused the duke's side.
It was agreed to summon the states-general to decide
the question. No mention has been made of the great
council of the nation during the last reign. It had been
held nevertheless, but the members had been so packed
and culled as to offer no efficient resistance to the despot
who reigned. A fair and real assembly of the states was
now, however, convoked at Tours. The government
used every means of previous conciliation. Oliver the
1483. MINORITY OF CHARLES VIII. l65
barber, one of the obnoxious ministers of Louis, was
hanged ; taxes were reduced ; and a body of 6000
Swiss was disbanded. The disorders of the reign of
Charles VI., and their melancholy consequences, had
disgusted men with the reign of princes of the blood.
The states conferred the care of the king's person, and
the influence accruing from it, upon the lady of Beaujeu.
The Orleans party, being dissatisfied, questioned the
competence of the states. " To whom does it belong to
decide," cried Pot, one of the members, " if not to the
same people who first elected their kings, and in whom
the sovereign authority thoroughly and territorially re-
sides ? " Here breaks out the republican spirit which
the revived study of the classics had already produced.
The three orders presented their several grievances ;
and we have thus an opportunity of marking the state of
each. It has been before remarked, that the French
noblesse became at an early period divided into the
greater and the less ; the former possessing territories,
apanage, sovereignty, almost independent power ; here-
ditary qualities, in short, more royal than aristocratic.
This took from them the true spirit of an aristocracy ;
they opposed the king, as potentate might attack poten-
tate, with force alone. Arms and fortifications were
their bulwarks. The English nobles, on the contrary,
from the compactness of the island and the early despot-
ism of the Conqueror's race, remained essentially subjects,
all with similar interests and views. Hence they were
united ; hence they aimed at common privileges, which
laws and institutions alone, not individual might, could
guarantee. As the great nobility disappeared in France,
either from natural decay, or by chance of war, or under
the hand of the executioner, the princes of the blood
took their place and authority : and thus a class of
magnates was placed at the head of the noblesse, having
interests quite distinct from theirs. From that time
opposition and rebellion no longer strove to limit the
royal authority. The struggle of the nobles, on the
contrary, was to share it, to have a seat in the council,
M 3
lG6 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1483.
and acquire preponderance. In these selfish and per-
sonal quarrels, nation and class both lost sight of their
peculiar interest as well as of the public advantage.
But the danger of giving apanages was soon perceived.
Princes and nobles were no longer indulged with pro-
vinces : places and pensions were bestowed in lieu.
Charles VII. had begun this system ; and he was enabled
to do so, being the first monarch who levied a fixed and
perpetual tax. In this arrangement, the great nobles
were to have a share in the public contribution, while
the smaller, forming the great mass of the nobility, were
to be exe-ipt from paying their quota. Thus were all
those of iiigher birth in the nation attached to despotic
royalty by -i:e simple and stubborn tie of self-interest.
The demands of the nobles in the present assembly of
states were merely against being summoned by the ar-
riere-ban to war at their own expense. Louis XI., who
found that they paid no faille under the modern system
of collecting revenue, thought they might at least afford
their ancient contribution of feudal service. But no :
they insisted upon being freed from both, and they were
freed.
The clergy prayed that the pragmatic sanction might
be upheld, and the privileges of the Gallican church
defended, especially the right of election, and the non-
payment of annates. The tide of opinion even among
ecclesiastics was against Rome. Striking examples oc-
curred during the reign of Louis, showing how low the
papal authority had fallen. When Charles of Burgundy
aspired to a throne, it was not to the pope, that an-
ciently received fabricator and hallower of crowns, that
he had recourse, but to the emperor. When cardinal
Bessarion came on a mission from the papal court to
Louis XL, he was admitted, after a delay of two months,
to the royal presence. When he had made a most learned
speech richly garnished with quotations, the king for
answer sei-jd the venerable , .rdinal by the beard, and
repeated an absurd line from the Latin Grammar of that
day. Bessarion, it is said, died of chagrin at this in-
IIS.'). ASSEMBLY OP THE STATES. l6j
suit ; and we hear of no indignation on the part of the
pope.
The tiers etat, or commons, were equally loud against
the pope, and prayed that no legate should be allowed
to enter the kingdom. They made the usual complaint
respecting the tail/e, and solicited the abolition of so
hateful a word. They hinted, that if the royal domains
could not suffice for the national expenditure, they would
be ready at all times to come forward and vote supplies.
Considerable difficulties nevertheless existed as to the
sum now to be granted. In short, the states seemed
most willing to adopt the economical resistance of an old
English parliament, when the lady of Beaujeu, growing
alarmed, dissolved the assembly.
The discontent of the duke of Orleans was not ap-
peased by the decision of the states. He was a hand-
some, frank, amiable man, not naturally inclined to be
turbulent : but as first prince of the blood, and heir
presumptive to the throne, it was derogatory to his
pride and spirit to remain tranquil, while deprived of
all influence by a woman. Dunois, son of the famous
bastard of Orleans, was his chief friend and counsellor ;
a man as fond of intrigue, apparently, as his stout sire
had been of battle. The dukes of Lorraine and Bour-
bon seemed at first inclined to join him, but both were
won over by the lady Anne ; Bourbon, the elder brother
of the lord of Beaujeu, being made constable. Orleans
tried every expedient to shake the authority of the
king's sister. He sought to make himself popular in
the capital, and to bring its citizens to declare in his
favour. He tried the parliament also; but its president,
La Vaquerie, replied, that it was not their interest or
duty to interfere in a private struggle for power. Or-
leans was soon after closely pressed by La Tremouille
at the head of a superior army, and obliged to make
submission ; Dunois being banished to Asti, a town in
Italy which the duke of Orler-is inherited from his
grandmother, Valentine of Milan.
Such a forced submission co Id not conduce to a lasting
M 4
168 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1188.
peace. Dunois soon afterwards returned from exile.
There was a plot for carrying off the king, which failed,
and the duke of Orleans was obliged to take refuge in
Britany. The gay and fascinating manners of the
French prince entirely won the good will of Francis,
the reigning duke. He was without male heirs ; and
his daughter, as inheritor of the duchy, was a rich
prize for an ambitious prince. The duke of Orleans
became a suitor for the hand of Anne, and duke Francis
favoured his pretensions. But the native nobles of the
province were jealous of the duke of Orleans and of his
influence with their prince. They leagued with the
lady of Beaujeu against both; and a French army, sup-
ported by a great body of Bretons, soon after besieged
the dukes of Britany and Orleans in Nantes. There
were two other pretenders to the hand of the heiress of
Britany: the sieur d'Albret, a rich lord of Gascony, into
whose family the crown of Navarre had passed from
that of Foix. The duke of Orleans, in prosecuting his
own suit, affected to support this competitor. The
other was Maximilian king of the Romans. A timely
succour sent by this prince obliged the French to raise
the siege of Nantes ; and the lady of Beaujeu betraying
a disposition to conquer the duchy, and to garrison and
appropriate its towns, the Bretons became suspicious,
abandoned her, and resumed their allegiance to the
duke. The war nevertheless continued. The troops
on both sides met at St. Aubin, and a battle ensued.
The French were commanded by La Tremouille ; the
prince of Orange and the duke of Orleans led on the
Bretons. With the latter were 300 English ; 1200
Bretons also clothed themselves in the English garb,
the more to intimidate their enemies. The Bretons
were celebrated as foot-soldiers. At St. Aubin they
supported their character ; but the French gendarmerie,
having routed the cavalry opposed to them, took the
Bretons in flank and rear, and routed them. The duke
of Orleans and the prince of Orange were both taken
prisoners. They were startled to perceive a confessor
1491- MARRIAGE OF AXXE OF BRITA.VV. l6Q
enter their tent in the evening. Lrf Tremouille, who
saw and enjoyed their consternation, reassured them by
observing that it was only for the inferior rebels to clear
their consciences and prepare for death.
An accommodation followed this defeat. The duke
of Britany made submissions, and survived but a short
time. He was the last duke of the province, which
now descended to his daughter Anne. There was an-
other sister, who, as she died soon after, need not be
more than mentioned. Affairs were now as unsettled as
ever. The count d'Albret, seconded by a strong party
of Bretons, who above all things aimed at the indepen-
dence of their duchy, pushed his suit with the young
heiress. The addresses of this aged noble could not be
agreeable to a princess of fourteen. The duke of Or-
leans, the object of her predilection, was in prison. The
armies of France were invading the duchy, and it be-
hoved her to espouse a prince capable of defending her
dominions. The resolution was taken that she should
be married to Maximilian king of the Romans, and the
ceremony was accordingly performed by proxy ; the
archduke's ambassador, to conclude it, putting a naked
leg into the couch of the young duchess. Hitherto the
aim of king Charles and his regent sister had been to
conquer the duchy by force of arms, laying claim to it
as a male fief. Charles had been long betrothed to
Margaret of Austria, Maximilian's daughter, who was
then receiving her education in the French court, and
awaiting the years of nubility. The stubbornness of
the Bretons, however, made the lady of Beaujeu despair
of her project. The ever-ready Dunois, in order to
make his own peace and procure the liberty of the duke
of Orleans, proposed that Charles should espouse the
young duchess himself, and thus unite Britany to the
kingdom. Charles and his sister instantly entered into
this scheme. The king, with a kingly generosity, began
by setting the duke of Orleans, his secret rival, at liberty.
This the monarch did without consulting his sister ;
nor was his generosity abused, for the duke remained
1~0 HISTORY OF FRANCE.
ever afte. faithful to him, and even seconded his pur-
pose of espousing Anne. Dunois, on his side, laboured
to render the duchess less hostile to France. Anne still
held with all the faithfulness of a wife to Maximilian,
to whom she was nominally betrothed. An ostensible
act of compulsion was deemed requisite to overcome her
reluctance. A royal army besieged her in Rennes.
One of the conditions of the capitulation was, that she
should espouse the king of France. This marriage
really as well as ceremoniously took place.* The inacti-
vity of Maximilian lost him a richly endowed consort,
and at the same time brought a severe mortification upon
his daughter Margaret. She, who had been brought
up as the future queen of France, was now sent home,
as she herself expressed it, " a widow ere she was a
wife." This rejection was not unattended with loss to
the French monarch, who was compelled to restore
Artois and Franche-Comte, acquired as the dowry of
Margaret. Thus, within a short period, were the two
most considerable fiefs of the ancient feudal kingdom of
France, viz. Burgundy and Britany, united finally to
the crown. Flanders, the remaining province, followed
other fortunes ; for while France gradually extended
her dominions eastward, by encroaching on the empire,
the house of Austria gained possession of the rich pro-
vince of Flanders, originally French, which gave her the
advantage of seaports, and one of the richest manufac-
turing and commercial regions in the world.
There never was a period of history in which the ef-
forts of individual minds were so important in their
effects as the present. The inventions of one or two
artisans on the banks of the Rhine presented mankind
with the art of printing ; an idea, a theory, springing
up in the manly mind of Columbus, led to the discovery
of another hemisphere ; a whim conceived by Charles
VJII., who, from hearing tales of Caesar and Charle-
magne, ! ddenly became desirous of turning conqueror,
had more effect on the destinies of Europe than all
* Dec. 1491.
CHABLES VIII. INVADES ITALY. 171
those occult causes of human progress which the philo-
sopher of history loves to fathom. It has been related,
how the first house of Anjou conquered Naples, and
how Jeanne, its last princess, conveyed her right to
Charles of Anjou, brother of the unfortunate Charles VI.
His right descended to his grandson Rene, who be-
queathed it to Louis XI. In short, the claim of the
reigning house of France to Naples was such as only a
powerful monarch could assert. An illegitimate branch
of the royal house of Anjou was then in possession of
Naples. There was enmity between him and Ludovico
Sforza, who then governed Milan. The latter, in t^ :
meddling spirit of Italian intrigue, sent ambassadors to
excite Charles of France against the king of Naples;
but the French king, instead of menacing or intriguing,
entered seriously into the project, summoned his bravest
soldiers and captains, and invaded Italy at the head of
a large army. No one was more surprised and alarmed
at this promptitude, to which Italy was so little accus-
tomed, than Ludovico himself, whose authority in Milan
was merely usurped over his nephew, then in prison.
He temporised, however, and received Charles with all
signs of gladness, and with great display. Most histo-
rians of the time describe the pomp and grandeur of
his reception ; and the rich habiliments of the duchess of
Milan are not forgotten. The first act of Charles on
his introduction to this dame was to ask her to dance
with him. This gallant example was followed by the
French, who were prodigal of admiration and attention
to the fair. Such conduct awakened the suspicions of
the Italians, and added to the natural want of harmony
between nations so opposite in character.
Italy at this time formed a federation which may
be regarded as the prototype of the system subsequently
established in Europe, where power is equally parcelled
forth, and where the efforts and policy of all are directed
to preserve the general equilibrium. The intervention
of a foreign potentate perplexed and terrified all the
members of that implied confederation : but to unite at
172 HISTORY OF FRAXCE. 1494-.
once against him demanded a reciprocal confidence, a
readiness and resolve, which were not to be expected.
Those who could venture on such an act of policy, tem-
porised. To await another conjuncture of circumstances
was the favourite and timid maxim of the Italians. The
Venetians replied to Charles, that they were in too great
dread of the Turk to aid him. The Florentines, through
whose state lay the route between France and Naples,
could not follow this example of neutrality : Pietro de'
Medici, the man of chief influence among them, knew
not what path to pursue. He had an understanding
with both Charles and the king of Naples, and was
afraid to oppose or to desert either of them. Being sent
at the head of an embassy by the Florentines to procure
the king's friendship and alliance, he delivered up the
frontier fortresses to Charles, to gain the monarch's good
will for himself, thus setting aside the interests of the
republic. The pusillanimous traitor was soon after
obliged to fly from the public indignation. Meantime
Charles entered Lucca and Pisa. Florence opened her
gates to him, without surrendering her independence.
Charles, however, attempted to take advantage of having
an army within their walls to impose conditions upon
the Florentines. When these were proposed by Charles
to the principal magistrates of the town, Capponi, one
of them, snatched the injurious scroll from the hands of
the secretary, tore and trod it beneath his feet. " Since
such are your conditions," cried he to Charles, ' ' sound
your war trumpets, we on our side will ring the bells of
alarm." Such promptitude and courage in an Italian
functionary made Charles conclude that the Florentines
were too strong for him. Capponi was recalled, and
reprimanded for his wrath, but the harsh conditions
were no longer insisted on.
The pope Borgia, Alexander VI., stood next in
Charles's way. He in vain endeavoured to turn the
French monarch from his purpose of entering Rome,
but the latter asserted that he had vowed to visit the
tombs of the holy apostles. The terrified pontiff shut
1495- NAPLES OCCUPIED BY THE FRENCH. 1JS
himself up in the castle St. Angelo whilst Charles en-
tered the city in the night by torchlight ; his men all
armed, with lance in rest, betokening that he came as a
conqueror. In the present day, when a place is won
the flag of the victors is hoisted. The first order of
Charles was to erect gallows in divers directions, on
which his provost hung a few turbulent Romans, thus
asserting and exercising the French king's right of juris-
diction. Naples itself seemed equally disinclined to re-
sistance. Although Ferdinand, its young prince, showed
himself not wanting in either prudence or valour, his
troops betrayed an insurmountable reluctance to face the
French. They fled from their posts at the first indica-
tion of attack. Ferdinand escaped to Ischia ; and Charles
made his triumphant entry into Naples, in the month of
February, 1495; having thus traversed all Italy at the
head of an army, without any bloodshed except by the
hand of the executioner.
To retain and perpetuate conquests is a more difficult
matter than to make them. Charles and his captains
took no pains to establish their government in Naples :
on the contrary, the partiality of the French monarch for
his countrymen, his dissipation and restlessness, as well
as their gallantry and violence, rendered the Italians
averse to their yoke. The king of Aragon in the mean
time leagued with the Venetians and Ludovico Sforza
of Milan, to drive the French from Italy. Philip de
Comines, then Charles's envoy at Venice, warned him
of the danger. It was considered most prudent to re-
turn to France. Gilbert de Bourbon, count de Mont-
pensier, cousin of him whom we have known as lord of
Beaujeu, was left governor of Naples. Garrisons were
placed in the chief towns. And thus providing for the
security of his new kingdom, Charles departed on his
return homeward at the head of scarcely 10,000 com-
batants. His enemies awaited him near Parma, com-
manded by Gonzaga, marquis of Mantua. They were
more than double the French in number. Charles en-
deavoured to negotiate, but in vain. Gonzaga posted
174 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 14-95.
his men near Fornova, to the right of the road which
must be taken by their enemy, who, commanded by
La Tremouille and their monarch, did not retard their
march. The Italians, divided into two bodies, attacked
the French in front and rear. Those io front showec
little activity ; the rear-guard was, however, vigorously
assaulted by the marquis of Mantua. The French made
a valiant resistance. Charles himself was exposed to
considerable danger, as he fought in the midst of the
action. The Stradiots, who formed the infantry of the
marquis, forsook the combat in order to plunder the
French baggage. The knights and cavaliers of Charles
took this opportunity to charge a"nd beat in the Italian
cavalry, which soon fled. Thus a partial victory re-
mained to the French. They had the honour of en-
camping for that night on the disputed field. The next
morning, however, they continued their retreat ; nor did
they allow themselves repose until they reached Asti,
where the duke of Orleans was to have awaited them
with reinforcements. That prince had, however, made
use of the troops under his command to attack Milan.
He was now shut up in Novara. Charles, instead of
receiving support, was obliged to march to the duke's
aid. His liberation was effected by a treaty with Louis
Sforza. Charles returned to France, and the north of
Italy relapsed into its usual state of quiet vigilance.
Meantime Ferdinand was recovering his kingdom of
Naples from the French, who had been left to guard it.
His first attempt was, however, unsuccessful. He passed
over from Sicily into Calabria with 5000 men under
Gonsalvo de Cordova, known in Spain by the name of
the great captain. Stuart count of Aubigny, great
grandson of the Scotch constable killed at the fight of
Herrings, marched against Gonsalvo, defeated him, and
Ferdinand escaped with difficulty. This prince, not
discouraged, soon returned with a fleet, showed himself
before his capital, which rose in his favour, and expelled
the count de Montpensier. War, however, still con-
tinued, from the pusillanimity of the Italian troops.
1498. ACCESSION OP LOUIS XII. l~i)
Ferdinand and Gonsalvo both fearing to encounter the
French in the open field. Charles made an effort to
succour his partisans in Naples. An army was raised,
and the command of it given to the duke of Orleans ;
but this prince, observing the weak state of the king's
health, refused to enter on a distant expedition at a time
when he might be suddenly called to the throne. Mont-
pensier, thus abandoned, saw his forces gradually di-
minish : he himself was shut up in Atella, and soon after
obliged to surrender upon conditions, ill observed by Fer-
dinand. Stuart of Aubigny made good his retreat to
France with his troops. Montpensier died soon after of a
malady which carried off numbers of the captive French.
Thus terminated in defeat all the ambitious schemes
of Charles, all his dreams of rivalling the fame and
conquests of Charlemagne. His sons perished in infancy
one after the other ; the name of the last, Charles Or-
lando, marking the favourite studies and thoughts of the
monarch. In the spring of 1498 a game of ball, which
interested the king, was jplayed in the fosse of the castle
of Amboise, where he resided. Charles, an affectionate
husband, brought the queen to witness it. Passing in
haste through the low archway of a gallery, he struck
his head somewhat violently against it ; for the moment
the blow did not seem to affect him, but soon after he
was seized with a stroke of apoplexy, and died at the
early age of twenty-seven. " Charles," says Comines,
" was of a small person, and little understanding ; but
a better creature was not to be seen."
The crown of France had now descended from father
to son in an uninterrupted succession of seven monarchs
from Philip of Valois. Charles VIII. leaving no pos-
terity, the direct line was broken. Louis duke of
Orleans, he who had been murdered by his uncle of
Burgundy, left two sons, the duke of Orleans and the
count of Angoulcme. The former, one of the captives
of Azincourt, and long a prisoner in England, was the
father of the prince who now ascended the throne as
Louis XII. The count of Angouliime also left a son,
176 HISTORY OF F15ANCK. 1498.
cousin-gentian of course to Louis, and now heir pre-
sumptive : he afterwards became Francis I. Whilst
engaged in royal genealogy, we may glance at the house
of Bourbon. The sieur or lord of Beaujeu had became
duke of Bourbon by the death of his elder brother ; his
issue was limited to a daughter. The male heir to the
duchy was Charles of Bourbon, count de Montpensier,
son of him who had defended Naples for Charles VIII.,
and who had died in that capital. By the intervention
of the new monarch, the young Charles count de Mont-
pensier married Susanne de Bourbon, thus preserving
united the titles and heritage of this illustrious family.
Louis XII. formed in person a contrast to his prede-
cessor. He was tall, agile, strong, and equally accom-
plished in the exercises and graces of knighthood. He
had sustained all those fevers in his youth that spring
from a quick and generous temper. He had been dissi-
pated, extravagant, turbulent. Like our fifth Harry, he
discarded these vices ere he ascended the throne, and a
similar spirit of forgiveness marked his accession. A^lien
some of his courtiers urged him to disgrace La Tre-
mouille, the general who had defeated him at St. Aubin,
Louis replied, " The king of France must not remember
the injuries offered to the duke of Orleans." His first
step was one strongly urged by poh'cy, as well as private
affection. He had been compelled by Louis XI. to
espouse that monarch's daughter Jeanne, a princess
deformed in person though amiable in disposition.
Through the pope's dispensation, as well as by the de-
cree of a commission, this marriage was broken, though
poor Jeanne pleaded with all the eloquence of injured
womanhood against it ; and Louis married the widow
of his predecessor, to whom, as Anne of Britany, he
had formerly paid court. Thus was secured an im-
portant province, which the duchess might have carried
to another suitor.
This great point settled, Louis published a number
of ordinances regulating and new modelling the army,
the revenue, and the judicature. In his former capacity
1498. VIEWS OF LOUIS ON ITALY. 177
as a subject, an oppressed and malcontent subject, he had
made himself acquainted with the defects of the system,
which, as a king, he now applied himself to remedy.
The council of state, among others, he re-modelled,
filling it with the sage and experienced of all ranks.
Poor Philip de Comines, who had intrigued and suffered
captivity for the duke of Orleans, was now, however,
slighted by the king. Louis turned his back on the
fickle and astute politicians, the old accomplices of his
treason, as Harry the fifth forsook the companions of his
dissipations. We, however, should be grateful for a ne-
glect which gave Comines leisure to compose a history
of his times, less finished, detailed, and clear than that
of Guicciardini, but certes far more lively, forcible, and
entertaining. The chief authority under Louis was
given to George, now created cardinal of Arnboise, the
first person who ostensibly bore the character of prime
minister. Hitherto any attempt of a monarch to de-
legate his authority was considered pusillanimity and
crime ; but now, as foreign relations became more
extended and more complicated, it was seen that not
the weakness of private friendship, but the urgency of
the public weal required an experienced and influential
minister.
The domestic and internal affairs of the kingdom thus
regulated, Louis turned his views towards Italy. He
was eager to renew the successes and avenge the defeats
of his predecessor. He had not only to support the
claims of the house of Anjou upon Naples, but to main-
tain his own private right to the duchy of Milan, which
he pretended to inherit from his grandmother Valentine
Visconti. The Sforzas, soldiers of fortune, had usurped
the duchy, and founded their right on the marriage of
the first Sforza with Blanche, the natural daughter of
the last Visconti. Louis XI. had allied with them, and
had refused to permit the duke of Orleans to insist upon
his heritage. No sooner did the latter become Louis XIL
than he assumed the title of duke of Milan, and pre-
pared, by arms and alliances, to prosecute his claim,
VOL. I. N
178 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1501.
Ludovico Sforza had usurped the duchy, and secured it
by poisoning his nephew : he was peculiarly hateful to
the French, from having been the first to entice Charles
VIII. into Italy, and afterwards the first to betray him.
His crimes made him equally odious to his countrymen.
The pope was won over by the gift of the duchy of
Valentinois, which the king gave to his notorious son,
Caesar Borgia. The Florentines were in the French
interest, and the Venetians leagued with Louis in order
to share the spoils of Ludovico. In short, when a
French army entered the Milanese in the summer of
1499> it raet with no resistance. The duchy submitted
almost without a blow, and Ludovico fled to Inspruck,
to his only ally, Maximilian.
The supple Italians, who never failed to stoop their
heads under the fury of the French storm, were sure to
raise them when the tempest had subsided. Ludovico
returned with an army in the ensuing year. The capital
rose in his favour. Trivulzio, who had been left gover-
nor of the duchy, was besieged in the town-house, and
was only rescued by the audacious gallantry of some
sixty knights, his followers. The French were obliged
to evacuate the province. At the first tidings of the
insurrection, La Tremouille marched from France to
succour Trivulzio. Ludovico sought to intercept this
aid by posting himself at Novara. But when the out-
posts of both armies touched, the Swiss in Ludovico's
service learned that their comrades in the French army
were better paid and treated. On the eve of action these
mercenaries declared their intention of deserting to the
French. Ludovico Sforza used the strongest entreaties
to dissuade them ; but finding them determined, he
merely begged not to be delivered to the enemy. How
was he to escape from Novara, in which he was in a
manner besieged ? The Swiss consented to allow him to
mingle in their ranks, clothed as one of their soldiers.
Their treachery, however, or the vigilance of the French,
discovered the unfortunate Ludovico in the Swiss ranks,
as they marched out of Novara. He was taken, and
1501. TREATY WITH ARACON". 179
conveyed to France, where he was confined in the castle
of Chinon until he died. Thus Louis, having fortunately
made himself master of the person of his rival, subdued
for the second time the duchy of Milan.
The conquest of Naples still remained to be achieved ;
but the present enmity of Maximilian king of the Ro-
mans rendered it inexpedient to undertake at present so
distant an expedition, which would leave Milan exposed
to the hostility of the Germans. This inability to con-
quer, joined with the impatience to possess, caused Louis
to commit an egregious blunder. He formed an alliance
with Ferdinand king of Spain, to divide between them
the kingdom of Naples, to the exclusion of its reigning
monarch, who was of the illegitimate race of Aragon.
Louis was to have the better or northern half of the
kingdom, the city of Naples included. Ferdinand, who
merely wanted a pretext to obtain a footing in the Pen-
insula, and introduce forces, was to content himself with
Apulia and Calabria. Accordingly, Ferdinand sent
Gonsalvo de Cordova, and Louis despatched Stuart of
Aubigny, each to conquer their respective portions, which
they effected; the reigning monarch at first confiding to
Gonsalvo, who of course betrayed him. Frederick of
Naples, being driven from his capital and kingdom, fled
first to Ischia and thence to France, where Louis gave
him the duchy of Anjou as a compensation for the loss
of his crown.
Conquest is like gambling. The excitement of the
game being pleasure greater than even the possession of
the prize, the winner is ever driven to venture on a
fresh stake. Louis now turned his views towards the
Venetians. They had obtained Cremona, Bergami,
Brescia, the eastern territories of the duchy of Milan, as
the price of their co-operation against Sforza. The king
envied them this portion of his duchy, as they hated and
feared the newly grown power of a foreign monarch in
Italy. He endeavoured to bring Maximilian of Austria
to join in an alliance against them ; and a treaty was
concluded, by which Maximilian promised the investi-
N 2
180 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1502.
tore of the duchy of Milan to Louis. Maximilian'*
grandson Charles (afterwards emperor) was to marry the
princess Claude, the daughter of Louis. The designs,
however, which the monarchs entertained against Venice
were interrupted by the bad faith of Ferdinand of Spain,
which began to manifest itself in Naples. The agree-
ment by which this kingdom was partitioned between
two rival powers, without any fixed line of demarcation,
was necessarily rather a source of war than a seal of
peace. A great portion of the country's revenue pro-
ceeded from the tax on the herds of cattle, which were
yearly collected in the plains. Quarrels arose about this,
and about the limits of the provinces ; and war soon
broke out between Gonsalvo and the duke de Nemours,
who was viceroy for the French.
Never was a prince more benevolent and wise in
his domestic and internal policy than Louis XI I.; yet
never was prince led astray by ambition to commit
greater blunders and injustice than he in his relations
with foreign princes. He was now leagued with the
Borgias the father, the execrable pope Alexander VI.;
his son Caesar Borgia, one of the heroes of Machiavel.
They betrayed Louis at every turn ; crushed and mur-
dered his friends. Still the French king temporised ;
and in a treaty concluded with them at this period,
he agreed to sacrifice to them several of the independ-
ent nobility of Italy among others, the Bentivoglios
and the Orsini. One of the causes of this blindness
in Louis was the care which the pope took to win the
favour of the cardinal of Amboise, the French minister,
whom he cajoled in a manner which was afterwards
practised on Wolsey, by flattering him with the hope
of succeeding to the popedom. The French were at first
the strongest party in Naples. Gonsalvo retired before
D'Aubigny, and shut himself in Barletta. There were
several combats : one, in which the brave La Palisse
was taken ; another, of thirteen French against thirteen
Italians, in which the Italians had the best, although
their enemies assert that the advantage was won by
1503. NAPLES SURRENDERS. 181
treacherously stabbing the horses of the French knights.
The Spanish monarch had recourse to artifice, his usual
weapon. Seizing the opportunity of his son-in-law
the archduke Philip's travelling through France, he pro-
posed a new treaty to Louis, by which Naples was to be
brought as the princess Claude's dowry to young Charles,
the grandson of Charles and Maximilian. Louis XII.,
who seemed as fond of negotiations and treaties as he
was certain to be duped in them, gladly and confidently
agreed to these proposals. He relaxed in his exertions
for reinforcing his army in Naples, while Ferdinand
made use of the interval to send potent succours to
Gonsalvo. The continued hostilities and successes of
this captain, notwithstanding the pacific declaration and
arrangement of his master, awakened Louis from his
supine confidence. But it was too late. D'Aubigny was
beaten by the Spaniards and taken prisoner at Seminara
in Calabria, the scene of one of his former victories. On
the same day of the ensuing week, the hostile com-
manders, Gonsalvo and the duke de Nemours, met at
Cirignola. It was towards evening, and the Spaniards
threw up an entrenchment before their position. The
duke de Nemours would not tarry. He ordered an in-
stant attack, which was at first successful. He himself,
leading on another to support it, was slain by a bullet
from an arquebuss ; and his followers failing in the
assault, a rout ensued, in which the French army were
for the most part dispersed. Naples surrendered to
Gonsalvo. Its castle was taken by mining, a mode of
offence invented in these wars. Shortly afterwards, the
fortress of Gaeta was the only post in the kingdom that
held for the French.
Louis was exasperated to the utmost. He raised
armies to attack Ferdinand in the Pyrenees and in Italy;
but equally without a result. La Tremouille, the French
general, fell ill, and Gonzaga marquis of Mantua, who
took the command, from want of either zeal or talent
did nothing. The army, too, was delayed near Rome
by the intrigues of the pope, and the unwillingness of
N 3
182 HISTOttV OF FRANCE. 1504.
the cardinal of Amboise to break with him. The reign
of the Borgias was immediately after brought to a tra-
gical close. The pope and his son had invited several
rich cardinals, their intimates, to sup with them in a
vineyard. The Borgias intended to poison them ; and
Caesar Borgia sent some bottles of medicated wine, under
the especial care of a domestic, to the spot. The pope
arrived first ; he was thirsty, and called for drink. The
poisoned wine was poured out for him ; and his son,
coming in at the moment, partook of it. Pope Alexan-
der expired soon after, and his son's life was saved only
by means of antidotes and a strong constitution. Great
intrigues agitated the conclave. An aged and infirm
pope was elected by way of compromise. In another
conclave the cardinal of Amboise was not more success-
ful. An Italian prelate was preferred, who soon dis-
played his imperious, ambitious, and warlike spirit, under
the name of Julius II. Cssar Borgia had contributed
to his election, in return for a promise of protection ;
and Julius showed his gratitude by arresting Borgia
immediately afterwards. He escaped, however, and fled
to Gonsalvo, who, receiving him with friendship equally
insincere, put an end to the career of this prince of in-
trigue by sending him prisoner to Spain. In the mean
time the French army remained inactive for want of a
chief. Gonzaga had been driven from the command by
the taunts of the French : the marquis of Saluces suc-
ceeded him, but with no more success. The campaign
served but to display the valour of the brave Bayard,
who alone defended the passage of a bridge against a
body of Spaniards for a considerable time. Gonsalvo
was every where successful ; and Gaeta, the last fortress
of the French, surrendered in a panic.
The tidings of this ill-fortune, and especially of the
loss of Gaeta, so affected Louis that he fell into a dan-
gerous illness. He was tended with exemplary affection
by his queen, Anne of Britany. But that prudent
princess, seeing his death imminent, despatched much of
her valuables to be conveyed down the Loire to Britany.
1504. ILLNESS OP LOUIS. 183
The heir to the crown, young Francis count of Angou-
leme, then inhabited, with his mother, the chateau of
Amboise. The marshal de Gie was the chief counsellor
and influential man of this embryo court. Over-zealous
for the interests of the future king, and deeming Louis
past hope, de Gie stopped the valuables of the queen as
they descended the Loire past Amboise. Anne never
forgave the insult. Louis recovered, and the marshal de
Gie was pursued by the vengeance of the queen for years.
He was tried ; and it is a great proof of the improve-
ment of the judicature, that he escaped with life from
so powerful an enemy. This circumstance increased
the hatred between the mother of Francis, Louisa of
Savoy, and queen Anne. By the last treaty with Maxi-
milian it had been agreed that his grandson Charles
should marry Claude, the daughter of Louis, and with
her inherit the Milanese. Some time previous to the
last illness of the king, Maximilian had sent an embassy
to conclude and enlarge this treaty. The monarch was
at the time sorely vexed by his disasters in Naples, and
greatly enraged against the fickleness and bad faith of
the Italian powers. Above all he was incensed against
Venice ; and in order to be avenged on this proud re-
public, he granted to Maximilian all that he asked. The
cessions then made or stipulated by Louis are so enor-
mous as to be incredible. The heirs of his daughter
Claude by Charles of Luxembourg were to possess not
only Milan, but the duchies of Burgundy and Britany,
which thus dismember the monarchy of France, and
reduce it almost by one half. De Seyssel, the minister
and biographer of Louis, excuses his conduct on this
occasion, by saying that the king merely wanted to gain
Maximilian's aid against the Venetians, and that he
never intended to fulfil these conditions. I do not credit
this would-be exculpation, which sacrifices the king's
good faith to his patriotism. It seems much more pro-
bable that these stipulations were owing to the influence
of Anne of Britany ; to the love of that queen for her
own daughter, whose exaltation she preferred to that of
N 4
184 HISTORY OF FBANCE. 1506.
France; and at the same time to Anne's hatred of Louisa
of Savoy, and of her son Francis, the heir to the throne.
Every Frenchman was shocked and terrified at the pro-
spect of these provinces being conveyed to a foreign
power. Louis himself, listening to the voice of his
counsellors, was struck with remorse at the folly and
want of patriotism which characterised such measures.
The states-general were called together : they drew up
a strong remonstrance against them, and supplicated that
the princess Claude should be given in marriage to
Francis. The king consented to this. But so long as
Anne of Britany lived, she never allowed the marriage
to take place.
Maximih'an was of course extremely wroth on learn-
ing that the king of France and the assembly of the
nation refused to fulfil the treaty. He resolved to
attack the French in Italy. Genoa about this time had
rebelled against Louis. The Genoese had for very many
years been oscillating between freedom and a state of
dependance on France. Equally intolerant of either
condition, they changed from one to the other, and
knew no repose. Louis, however, conquered and re-
duced them to submission. Maximih'an was too late to
support their insurrection. The Venetians, then allies
of the king, barred the passage of the Austrians into
Italy. They defeated Maximih'an, and compelled him
to purchase a treaty, resigning his conquests. They
concluded it without awaiting the consent of Louis, or
allowing him to derive from it any advantage.
This was a new grievance added to the many already
entertained against these republicans by the French.
Maximilian was of course ready to join against them.
Pope Julius was at variance with them on account of
Faenza, and other towns, the wreck of the Borgian
usurpations, which they held. Between these powers
and Ferdinand of Spain was formed the famous league
of Cambray for the destruction of Venice. It was called
famous from having nearly attained its aim, a distinc-
tion which could be applied to few treaties of the time.
1509. DEFEAT OF THE VENETIANS. 185
In raising his army for this enterprise the king made
an important improvement in his levies. He began to
mistrust the Swiss, whose mercenary and turbulent spirit
was scarcely recompensed by their character for courage.
Therefore, although he hired a corps of them to the
number of 6000, he at the same time endeavoured to
resuscitate the French infantry. Louis XI. had aban-
doned the good custom of training the French peasants
to arms, which had so contributed to the victories of
Charles VII. The despot dreaded a national army. The
armiesof Charles VIII., and hitherto those of Louis XII.,
were composed of mounted gentlemen, who formed the
cavalry, and of hired Swiss, or perhaps a few Gascons,
for infantry. This was the principal reason of the first
success and subsequent defeats of the French in Naples.
Cavalry force, so superior when in good condition, is
liable to be unhorsed, and is more easily disorganised
than infantry. Louis now levied a body of infantry
in France of from 12,000 to 14,000 men. To give
spirit and respectability to this force, he induced his
bravest captains, Bayard, Molard, and Chabannes, to
fight on foot and command these new brigades ; and
it required all his influence to make them submit to such
degradation. The French cavalry amounted to 12,000
men. With this army he marched against the Venetians.
Their army, no wise inferior, was commanded by the
count de Petilliana, whose policy accorded with the
orders of the senate to avoid a battle. Alviana, the
Venetian general second in command, risked an attack
in despite of this at Agnadel. An action took place, in
which the count feebly supported his lieutenant. Louis,
who fought in the thickest of the engagement, was vic-
torious. The Venetian army was utterly routed ; and
the French king, advancing to the brink of the Lagunes,
enjoyed the satisfaction of sending from his cannon
some vain shots against the discomfited but still un-
subdued queen of the Adriatic.
This success dissolved the league. The fickle Maxi-
milian found some other phantom to pursue. He wished
186 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1511.
to become pope. Julius II., having obtained possession
of the towns which he coveted from the Venetians,
leagued with them against Louis ; and a war, or a suc-
cession of skirmishes, ensued between the French and
him, which is amusing by the scruples of the French
generals, who feared to make the most of their advan-
tages. It is singular how much more free from idle
superstition the middling orders were than the higher.
The king, the queen, and even the gallant knights Bay-
ard and de Chaumont, shrunk from warring against
the sovereign pontiff. The states-general, the commons
of France, on the contrary, urged the war, and de-
clared that Julius, who himself wielded the sword,
might be made to suffer from it. Louis, in consequence,
sent a powerful army against the pope, under the com-
mand of Gaston de Foix duke of Nemours, his sister's
son, then twenty-two years of age. Gaston showed
himself worthy to command. His army, upwards of
20,000 strong, counted in its ranks 5000 lansquenets
in Maximilian's service. That prince wrote to them to
retire. Gaston intercepted and destroyed the letter, and
without loss of time laid siege to Ravenna, in order to
induce the enemy to risk an engagement for its relief.
His artifice succeeded. The troops of the pope, the
Venetians, and the king of Spain, marched towards Ra-
venna, and Gaston faced about to meet them. The
battle of Ravenna ensued, the most serious that had
been fought for many years. The two armies con-
fronted each other on the 1 1th of May. The Spaniards
being entrenched, Gaston hesitated to attack, and the
action began with firing and cannonade. When it had
lasted some hours, Fabricio Colonna, who commanded
the papal troops, weary of seeing them mowed down
without striking a blow, rushed over the entrenchment
to charge the French : Bayard, Gaston, and his com-
panions, withstood the attack, and after half an hour's
combat the Italians were put to the rout. The Spaniards,
however, under Peter of Navarre, held their ground.
They consisted chiefly of infantry, being but 400 horse
1512. BATTLE OP RAVENNA. 187
to 4000 foot. Ferdinand, in his Moorish wars, had
imitated Charles VII.'s wise policy in arming the pea-
sants and creating a national infantry. In the pre-
sent action the Spaniards had suffered little; being
entrenched, they had lain down during the cannonade,
and had, with ease, repulsed the lansquenets. Even
now, when deserted by their allies, they retreated step
by step, showing a bold front to their enemies. Gaston
de Foix, elated with his victory, was enraged to see the
Spaniards escape unbroken. Gathering in haste a few
cavaliers, the young general himself charged furiously
iipon the retreating phalanx to break it. The hero met
his death, being pierced with fourteen pike-wounds.
Yves d'Alegre, another celebrated French captain, pe-
rished with him ; and Lautrec, afterwards so famous,
lay pierced with a number of wounds. The French,
nevertheless, were victorious. The two generals, Peter
of Navarre and Fabricio Colonna, were prisoners ; and
we also mark in the list the marquis of Pescara and
the cardinal de' Medici, soon after Leo X.
The sack of Ravenna was almost the only fruit
reaped by this signal victory. Julius II., undaunted by
defeat, refused to yield. He raised up the English
and the Swiss against Louis, who was threatened with
invasion from both these countries. Maximilian let
loose upon Milan his namesake Maximilian Sforza, son
of Ludovico ; and the Swiss espoused the youth's pre-
tensions. The cantons were enraged against Louis for
attempting to substitute French soldiers for them. When
he sent La Tremouille to negotiate with them, they de-
manded that 15,000 Swiss should be yearly hired, and
paid by France in peace and war. They demanded
also the Milanese for Sforza, and the abolition of the
pragmatic sanction for the pope. It is said, they also
resented some injurious words spoken by Louis. What-
ever was its cause, their resentment was but too well
seconded by their force. The French under La Palisse
and Trivulzio were driven out of the Milanese, and even
Genoa again declared itself independent. The feats of
188 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1513.
Bayard during this unfortunate campaign might be
made to fill pages, but they availed nothing. Navarre
was at the same time wrested by Ferdinand from Jean
d'Albret. Although the king of France still bears
the title, the province has ever since remained to the
Spaniards.
The death of Julius II. occurred about this time, to
give some respite to Louis. His successor, Leo X., was
not unfriendly to France, The enmity between Louis
and Ferdinand burned less fierce, and a truce was agreed
on. The king's darling object was the Milanese, which
he had twice lost ; his efforts were now exerted to re-
cover it for the third time. An army marched thither
under La Tremouille and Trivulzio ; and the Milanese,
as usual, submitted to the superior force. Sforza shut
himself up with 6000 Swiss in Novara, and was soon
besieged there. Those mountaineers were actuated by
implacable hatred against the French : they sallied forth
before daybreak from Novara, to surprise the invaders
in their camp ; it was defended by a formidable park
of artillery, which did great execution in their dense
ranks, until, with undaunted perseverance, they carried
the entrenchments and turned the guns on the French.
The cavalry escaped ; but all the infantry, the body most
odious to the Swiss, perished. The veteran La Tre-
mouille lost a leg. Thus once more did the fabric
of French conquests in Italy fall in ruins to the
ground. Louis had no longer spirits to return to the
charge ; nor, if he had, would his enemies have allowed
him leisure. Henry VIII. of England had invaded
France in concert with Maximilian. He laid siege to
Terouenne. The French succeeded in throwing supplies
into the town ; but being attacked suddenly some days
after by the English and imperialists, they were seized
with a panic and fled. This has been called the battle
of Spurs. Bayard, who refused to join in the flight of
his compatriots, was made prisoner after a gallant de-
fence. Terouenne was the sole conquest of Henry.
The Swiss at the same time had burst into Burgundy :
1514. DEATH OP THE QUEEV. 189
La Tremouille had no forces to oppose them, and he
was soon besieged in Dijon. He offered to treat; and
they demanded the most exorbitant conditions. In the
present distressed state of the monarchy, La Tremouille
thought deceit warrantable : he promised the Swiss all
their demands, aware that the king would afterwards
disavow them ; and at the same time offered a large
sum, at which the Swiss greedily caught, and decamped
to their mountains. Never did a more fearful storm
menace France ; happily, however, it blew over. For-
tunately too for Europe, at that time when ambition
reigned uncontrolled by any maxim of either justice or
prudence, the means of warlike defence were so much
superior to those of offence, that conquests were never
permanent, unless where they were salutary and natural
extensions of territory or empire.
In January, 1514, Louis lost his queen, Anne of
Britany, to whom he was tenderly attached. She was
a woman of distinguished beauty, though she limped in
her gait. She possessed great influence over Louis ; was
proud, independent, and obstinate, qualities character-
istic of the Bretons. Anne was at the same time a
pious, chaste, and exemplary queen. It was through
her influence and importance that the female sex,
hitherto excluded, were introduced into society : she
formed a court, and collected around her the principal
young ladies of rank in the kingdom, whose manners
and principles she loved to form. Unfortunately, the
successor of Louis saw in this collection of beauty but a
prey for his licentiousness ; and Francis thus speedily
corrupted an institution intended by its virtuous pa-
troness to purify as well as adorn society. The esta-
blishment of a court, that is, of a court in which woman's
presence was allowed and her influence felt, was, trifling
as it may seem, the most important innovation of the
age.
Louis, attached as he had been to Anne, did not long
delay to fill up the place by her left vacant. Policy
joined with other reasons to prompt this step. As the
190 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1515.
seal of a reconciliation and alliance with Henry VIII.,
Louis espoused that monarch's sister Mary, a princess
then in the flower of her age. The gay habits of a
bridegroom did not suit the constitution of the king,
then turned of fifty-four. In a few weeks after his
marriage he was seized with a fever and dysentery,
which carried him off at the palace of the Tournelles, in
Paris, on the first day of the year 1515.
Never was monarch more lamented by the great mass
of his subjects than Louis XII. He was endeared to
them principally by his economy and forbearance in levy-
ing contributions, and by his strict administration of jus-
tice, so different from the sanguinary executions which
characterised the reign of Louis XL, when no man
could be certain of life. He reduced the taxes more
than one third in the early part of his reign, and even
in his distresses preferred selling the crown lands to any
of the usual expedients for exaction.* Hence Louis
earned the appellation of Father of his people. His
popularity was much greater with the middling than
with the higher classes. The latter called his economy
parsimony, and his sympathy with the commons forget-
fulness of his rank. Writers of the reigns of Louis XIV.
and XV. seek to depreciate the character of Louis XII.
and to elevate that of his successor. Louis XII. they
consider as the roi roturier, the plebeian king ; Francis
as the aristocratic and chevaleresque. The nobility cer-
tainly do not appear prominent in this reign. New
names arise and become illustrious as in the time of
Charles VII. The lesser noblesse or gentry were in
fact treading on the heels and taking the places of the
higher aristocracy. The latter rallied or were re-created
* The imposts on the accession of Francis I. were as follows :
1. The tail/,; amounting to 1,075,000 livres.
2. ThegabeUe, being one fifth of the value of salt superadded to it
3. The aides, a tax (of Spanish origin) on the sale of wine, wood, fish
and meat. This was a sou per livre, or one twentieth on the gross sale,
and one third in addition on the retail.
Francis increased the gabelle hy one half; the tattle was also augmented.
" His levying of the aides," says Rcederer, " destroyed the vineyards of
France for two centuries, and was one of the causes of the revolution of
1798." We should add to this the sale of offices by Francis, a lucrative
source of revenue to him.
CHARACTER OF LOUIS XII. 1 .<)!
in the days of Francis, but these tendencies were as
much the effect of opposite states and circumstances, as
of the opposite characters of the two monarchs.
The writers of the Revolution reverse the system of
favouritism : they choose Louis, the father of his peo-
ple, to be their hero, and they depreciate the kingly
Francis. A living author of this school, Rcederer, has
seen every perfection in Louis XII., and he considers
that the commons of France were in possession of per-
fect constitutional freedom during his reign : history,
however, does not present this view of the question.
Although Louis did certainly seem to allow in the par-
liament a power of examining and objecting to his
edicts, yet the assembly of states in his reign was far
from assuming or being allowed aught like a consti-
tutional control. The very virtues and moderation of
Louis were inimical to political freedom, since, by ren-
dering the commons contented, they took from them, with
the wish, the right of remonstrance. Had a prodigal
and an unpopular king been reduced to the same distress
as Louis was in the latter years of his reign, the com-
mons of France might opportunely have made a stand
for their privileges, and at least kept alive their tradi-
tions of freedom ; but nothing that took place during
this reign can induce us to retract the opinion, that in
the period of Charles the Wise and of John, French
constitutional freedom had reached its zenith, from
whence it declined and sank, until every ray was lost in
the night of despotism.
192 HISTORY OF FRANCE.
CHAP. VI.
15151547.
FRANCIS THE FIRST.
WE have hitherto traversed the early centuries of French
history with a hurried step, our pages necessarily from
their brevity affording more information than interest.
Yet, as the remote ages of a foreign country must occupy
but a limited space in our memory, we have perhaps
not been too brief for Englishmen. To follow closely
the progress of those political institutions, fortunately
not our own, which were doomed to perish and merge
in mere despotism, would have been an ungrateful and
a needless task ; while to give a lively picture of chival-
rous personages and times would have required the
space and leisure, with the simplicity and detail, of the
ancient chroniclers. The idlest student too may give
an hour to Froissart, whilst few there are who can de-
vote time and thought to the study of Guicciardini and
De Thou.
For this reason greater space has been assigned to
the period we now enter upon. It may be called the
frontier line of modern history : it is the horizon
which bounds our historical view ; all within it stretch-
ing in continuance up to the very present, separated only
by three centuries, an interval which, however great it
may seem to us, is in reality no very extended portion
of time. To this epoch may be traced the different
political systems and fortunes of the European states.
They had then, each of them, attained their national
limits. Nations, like men, when they arrive at ma-
turity of growth, seek to exert their force externally.
To encroach upon, to conquer, to reduce their neighbours,
is the natural impulse of the many as of the few.
Laws and civilisation have restrained the frowardness of
man : it is to be hoped that a still greater degree of
enlightenment may yet equally tame the envious and
1515. ACCESSION OF FRANCIS i. 193
ambitious spirit of nations ; and that man in the ag-
gregate may at length be taught the moral wisdom and
forbearance which have been forced upon the individual.
At that time aggrandisement was the only aim that
policy could propose to itself. Unfortunately the same
maxim, however refuted, is far from being exploded;
although the great lesson of modern history is the hope-
lessness of pushing conquests beyond geographical limits.
What quantities of blood were spilt in vain attempts of
English kings to seize part of France ; in the efforts of
French princes to hold portions of Italy ! If it was the
mad policy of one nation to conquer, it became that of
the other to defend, and of the third to interfere in
favour of the weakest. Hence the great principle of
the balance of power, first acted upon by the Italian
states, and from them extending, in this period, until
it became the policy of Europe. It began to be under-
stood and to prevail at the very time when monarchs,
growing universally despotic, and wielding the mature
powers and resources of their kingdoms, felt themselves
naturally inclined and urged to conquest. This great
principle neutralised their efforts ; and by rendering
universal dominion impracticable, completed the final
demarcation between ancient and modern times.
Francis I. ascended the throne at the age of twenty-
one : he was tall, handsome, robust. Reared in retire-
ment at Amboise under the care of his mother, Louisa
of Savoy, a gallant dame, he. received the education of
a knight rather than that of a monarch. While young
Charles, his future rival, was made to study history and
political science under an active statesman, Francis
was merely taught the accomplishments of chivalry,
garnished with such lighter studies as romance and
rhyming story, and the feats of classic heroes told in
modern fashion. He thus ascended the throne with no
more solid principles than a love of pleasure and of
glory. Francis was, however, of a kind and friendly
nature. For his mother he ever entertained the most
obsequious regard ; and his piety in this respect was
VOL. I. O
194 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1515.
unfortunate : it was her influence that displayed itself
in the first appointments of the new reign. Duprat was
made chancellor ; and the duke of Bourbon, a young
man of handsome person but austere manners, was no-
minated constable. An agreeable exterior was equally
the passport to the favour of Francis and to that of his
mother. Bonnivet, the future favourite and admiral,
was the handsomest man of his time. The family of
Foix were equally distinguished for personal attractions :
the three brothers, one of whom was Lautrec, were ad-
vanced to the command of armies, and their sister be-
came the mistress of the young monarch.
It is singular, that almost the first political act of
both Francis and of Charles, then but count of Flanders,
was to enter into a mutual treaty: Charles promised to
restore Navarre when he should succeed to the throne
of Spain ; which succession Francis, on the other hand,
guarantied to him. Charles was so gratified by the
conduct of his ambassador, Henry of Nassau, upon this
account, that he asked and obtained for him from Francis
the hand of Claude de Chalon, sister of Philibert prince
of Orange. It was this marriage that transported the
title and estates of Orange to the house of Nassau.
The first thought that naturally occurred to a young
monarch like Francis was to reconquer the Milanese,
and avenge the defeat of his predecessor. Alliances
were the first consideration, and the French ministers
used every art to lessen the number of their enemies.
The projects of invading Italy were kept a profound
secret, and the fears of the Italian princes were allayed
by the peaceable declarations of the French envoys. The
learned Budaeus was the ambassador sent by Francis to
pope Leo on tin's occasion. The Swiss, enraged at the
nonperformance of the stipulations accepted at Dijon
by La Tremouille, threatened France with an invasion.
Francis grasped at the pretext to raise and assemble an
army in Burgundy. This alarmed Ferdinand of Spain,
as well as Maximilian of Austria, and his namesake
Sforza, then in possession of Milan. The revolt of
1515. All MY ASSEMBLED AT LYONS. 195
Genoa to the French at the same time betrayed their
views upon Italy. And the Swiss accordingly, instead
of invading Burgundy, poured down into Piedmont, and
occupied all the known passes of the Alps.
In raising funds for the equipment of his army,
Francis already displayed his reckless and imperious
character. He shrunk from assembling the states,
which had usually been the first act of a new reign.
At the same time he feared to commence by the un-
popular measure of augmenting the faille. As an
expedient, Duprat proposed to render the offices of the
judicature venal. A new chamber of twenty counsel-
lors was created, and the seats were put up to auction.
There had been previous instances of principal offices
being purchased, but Francis was the first king that
appointed judges in parliament for money. Strange it
is, that a corruption so gross and so revolting had an
effect rather beneficial. It increased the independence
of French judges, and gave them politically much
greater weight than they had before possessed ; while
sentiments of honour, traditionally cherished and ob-
served by the great families of the robe, enforced of
course with a due reverence for public opinion, proved
sufficient to keep the source of justice pure even purer,
perhaps, than in countries where the Domination de-
pended oii the royal will.
The army now assembled by Francis at Lyons was
estimated at 60,000 men, the most formidable in num-
ber that France had yet equipped. There were 2500
gentlemen cavaliers, each attended by his suite of four
or five horsemen. These were the Gcnsdarmerie. The
lansquenets, or hired German infantry, amounted to
22,000. Six thousand Gascon infantry, as many more
French promiscuously levied, and 3000 pioneers, com-
pleted the army. The rear-guard advanced under the
constable Bourbon to clear the passage of the Alps, and
to force the Swiss from the post of Susa, which blocked
up the only two known roads across the mountains. To
find or make another path became necessary, in order
196 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1515.
to turn the impregnable position ; and fortunately a
guide undertook to lead the French over the Cottian
Alps into the marquisate of Saluces. Even for the
army to pass was a work of difficulty, but their artillery
was what the French captains chiefly relied on to dis-
comfit the Swiss. To drag cannons over deep valleys
and precipitous steeps was more than Hannibal had
achieved, and was afterwards one of the principal boasts
of the army that conquered at Marengo. The soldiers
of France accomplished the task, however, and pene-
trated into Italy by the sources of the Po. The Italians
did not suspect the possibility of so hardy an enterprise.
Prospero Colonna was traversing Piedmont at the head
of the papal cavalry to join the Swiss, and was reposing
at Villefranche, when the town was surprised, and Colonna
himself, and his troops, taken prisoners by La Palisse
and d'Aubigny. The news of this surprise soon
reached the Swiss, and they abandoned in a rage their
now useless position, retreating to Milan, and pillaging
the towns they were obligetl to evacuate. Their disap-
pointment produced quarrels between the chiefs. The
cardinal of Sion reproached one of the captains of Berne
with partiality to the French. The captain and his
soldiers, by way of retort, demanded their pay ; and the
cardinal, the sworn enemy of France, was obliged to
fly from their clamours.
This opened the way for negotiation. The king,
with the rest of his army, had in the mean time crossed
the Alps, and lay encamped at Marignano. The prow-
ess of the Swiss was dreaded, and the terrific day of
Novara was held in remembrance. Consequently,
when they demanded a large sum of money for them-
selves, and a pension for Maximilian Sforza, in return
for evacuating the Milanese, the terms were granted.
Francis raised the money instantly by borrowing of his
officers ; and envoys were already despatched with the
stipulated sum, when tidings were brought to the con-
stable, that the Swiss, in lieu of concluding a treaty,
were meditating an attack. The cardinal of Sion had,
1515. BATTLE OF MARIGNANO. 197
in fact, hurried back to Milan on the first news of the
accommodation. lie called his countrymen round him,
harangued them, and rekindled that hatred to the French
for which history assigns no sufficient cause.
The Swiss determined to surprise the French, to
carry the artillery in the first attack, and turn it on
their enemies, an operation so successful at Novara. Bour-
bon, however, was prepared for them. The artillery,
consisting of seventy pieces, were placed behind an en-
trenchment, commanding the road ; the lansquenets
were stationed to guard it, while the cavalry, drawn up
behind, and on each side, waited to observe the order
of the Swiss. They came on in silence, without drum
or tnimpet ; a cloud of dust, raised by their speed, an-
nouncing, nevertheless, their approach. It was the
middle of September, several hours after noon. The
Swiss came in one compact column, rushing on the artil-
lery, and against the lansquenets, those rivals in their
mercenary profession of war, whom they hated, and
whom they swore that day to exterminate. At first
the lansquenets recoiled from the furious charge of the
Swiss : some of the cannon were already captured ; when
the cavalry and the black bands, the king himself amongst
them, extended in the form of wings, and took the pha-
lanx of the Swiss on either side in flank. The lans-
quenets, thus supported, took courage. The first charge
of the Swiss, so universally victorious, was here not de-
cidedly successful, and having no longer the advantage
of an impulse, their pikes became less formidable. Obliged
to face enemies that almost surrounded them, their pha-
lanx was split into numerous bodies, which continued the
combat, not only till sunset, but even till the moonlight
failed them. Some of these bodies succumbed, however:
one yielded to a charge led by the king himself; the
Swiss throwing down their halberds, and crying " France ! "
in token of submission. Towards midnight, utter dark-
ness stopped the combat, and both parties, intermingled,
slept or kept watch in little bands amongst their ene-
o 3
198 HISTORY OF FR.AXCE. 1515.
mies. The king himself reposed on the stock of a
cannon.
When day broke, both armies rallied; the Swiss to
form their original phalanx ; the French round their can-
non, which were again plied with true aim and fearful
alacrity. The Swiss renewed the attack. The lans-
quenets still held the entrenchment ; the rest of the
army assailed the enemy in flank. After some hours'
fighting, the Swiss began to despair. They now con-
descended to manoeuvre, and despatched a consider-
able body to turn and attack the French camp in rear :
but it was too late ; the division was beaten back, and
naught was left for the Swiss but to retreat. This they
did in good order and undaunted ; though pursued not
only by the victorious French, but by the Venetians,
who arrived at the close of the action. The count de
Petigliana, the Venetian general, desirous to share in tht
combat, charged the retreating Swiss, and perished.
Thus did the young monarch signalise the very com-
mencement of his reign by a splendid victory gained
over the most renowned soldiers in Europe, and those
whom the French had most to fear. The veteran Tri-
vulzio, who had seen seventeen pitched battles, called all
of them " child's play," in comparison with that of
Marignano, which he designated as the " battle of
giants." Yet it is more remarkable for the glory won,
than for the blood spilled in it. Trivulzio, the king, the
constable Bourbon, the duke of Lorraine, and Bayard,
were all wounded or unhorsed, or in imminent peril.
He who most distinguished himself was Claude count
de Guise, brother of the duke of Lorraine : he com-
manded the black bands, and had fallen, pierced by in-
numerable wounds ; from which he nevertheless recovered,
and lived to found an illustrious name. The principal
of the slain were, a prince of the house of Lorraine, one
of the house of Bourbon, and the prince of Talmont,
elder son of La Tremouille. One of the first acts of
the king, after the action, was to receive knighthood
from the hand of Bayard, " the chevalier without fear
1515. CONCORDAT. 199
and without reproach." Sensible of the honour done
to him by the choice, Bayard vowed that the sword
which had knighted so valiant a monarch should never
be wielded except against the infidels. " When he had
uttered this vow," quoth his secretary, who was his his-
torian, "he took two leaps, and returned the sword to
its scabbard."
The duchy of Milan was conquered by the victory of
Marignano. The Swiss, who held the fortress of the
capital, surrendered it, being hard pressed by the armies
of Peter of Navarre, which were now in the service of
the French king. Maximilian Sforza abandoned his
rights in return for a pension of 30,000 crowns, which
he was to enjoy in France, " no wise discontented," he
said, " to be delivered from the tyranny of the Swiss,
the caprices of the einperor, and the bad faith of the
Spaniards." It now behoved pope Leo to make sub-
mission. He had long temporised, and ill concealed his
adherence to that patriotic policy which was averse to
the establishment of any ultramontane power in Italy.
The pope sought an interview with the young monarch,
hoping to repair by address the weakness of his po-
sition ; nor did he fail. The king and the pontiff met
at Bologna. Francis was inexorable as to the fortresses
and territorial possessions : the pope was obliged to
give up Parma and Placentia, of which Julius II. had
taken possession after the battle of Ravenna. On other
points Francis was not averse to the wishes of Leo : he
agreed to protect the influence of the Medicis in Flo-
rence; the sovereignty of a family being far more agree-
able to the king's ideas than democratic freedom. But
it was chiefly in procuring the repeal of the pragmatic
sanction, that bulwark of the rights of the Gallican
church, that Leo showed his sagacity. This law, which
secured the appointment of French prelates by free elec-
tion, was superseded by an agreement, called the Con-
cordat, which conveyed the right of nominating prelates
to the king, who in return conceded the annates, or
first year's revenue, to the pope. Both sovereigns gained
o 4>
200 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1518.
by this transaction, at the expense of the nation the
pope, a revenue of which he stood much in need; the
king, the means of gratifying and providing for the
younger members of the nobility.
Here we may pause to remark that the old aristo-
cracy had almost disappeared ; not only the sovereign
or ducal families, but the great territorial noblesse. And
this was owing, in a great measure, to the necessity of
either dividing the family possessions amongst many
brothers, the younger having no professional resource
but the honourable rather than lucrative profession of
arms; or else to the provident care, arising from the
same motives, of not rearing a numerous family of noble
rank. The court and favouritism of Francis created a
new noblesse, which fortunately his wars distinguished;
whilst his policy, reserving to them the benefices and
prelacies of the church, hitherto open to the democracy,
gave encouragement to the production and perpetuation of
noble families, which soon caused a great and pernicious
excess. The policy of Francis, however, in abrogat-
ing the pragmatic sanction, was not so far-sighted. The
popes had been long hostile to France on this account :
they were of the first influence, not only in Italy, but
with the Swiss. To win over the pope to his side, and
secure so potent an ally in support of his designs upon
Italy, was the chief aim of the king. The parliament,
however, made an obstinate resistance : they refused to
register the concordat. The king sent the Bastard of
Savoy, his uncle, to expostulate and menace. They
would not consult in his presence: they sent a deputa-
tion to Francis, who was then at Nampont. He made
them an angry reply, " I am king, as well as my pre-
decessors," said he, " and will be obeyed, as they were.
You are incessantly vaunting to me Louis XII., and
his love of justice; know that I love justice as much as
he. That monarch, so exemplarily just, drove those
who rebelled against him out of the kingdom, though
they were members of the parliament : oblige me not to
do the same." The king insisted that they should de-
1518. RESISTANCE OF THE PARLIAMENT 201
liberate in the presence of the Bastard of Savoy. They
obeyed : but it was to come to the conclusion, that they
would not register the concordat ; and they appealed to
a national council. The university seconded the wish,
and joined in the resistance of the parliament. This
new resolve of the judicature was made known to the
monarch in February, 1518 ; and his fury was greater
than before. " My parliament would erect itself into a
senate of Venice," said he ; " let it confine itself to the
administration of justice, which is worse than ever. I
must drag the parliament in my suite, as I do the great
council, and watch over its conduct." After prolonging
the contest some time, the members were at length in-
duced to yield to the menaces of the king. The ob-
noxious concordat was registered in the presence of La
Tremouille ; but they at the same time entered into a
secret engagement to adhere in their decisions to the
pragmatic sanction, and not to the concordat. This
secret engagement they kept. When an ecclesiastical
vacancy occurred, the king nominated on one side, the
chapter elected on the other ; and the parliament, to
whom the dispute was referred, never failed to decide
in favour of the latter. The king was at length wearied
by this obstinacy, and ended by depriving the parlia-
ment of all jurisdiction over ecclesiastical appointments,
ordering that all disputes on these matters should be
referred to his council.
Francis was here made to feel how much his sale of
judicial offices had made the judicature independent.
The disinclination to meet the states-general, had thus
raised up in their place another body of functionaries,
who felt .themselves entitled and emboldened to offer at
the least a shadow of a national opposition. It was in-
deed but a shadow. The famed legal resistance which
the parliament henceforward claimed the right of mak-
ing, proved rather a cause of irritation and delay, than
an effectual bar to the pernicious exertions of the royal
will. Nevertheless it shows the effort, the tendency of
a great and civilised nation to establish some kind of
202 HISTORY OF FRAXCE. 15I9-
check to the absolute authority of the prince. Through-
out all empires, however despotic, we find human nature
making that effort, entering that protest against utter
servitude. And thus we may infer, that political free-
dom and its guaranty form a want, a necessity, and a
law of his kind, towards which, as towards society or
self-preservation, man always, however unsuccessfully,
aims.
The thoughts of the French monarch were wholly
bent upon external policy. He had conquered Milan,
won over the pope, and reconciled the Swiss to his
interest by the promise of a large pension. He cared
not what sacrifices were made at home for the accom-
plishment of such desirable objects. The enmity of
Ferdinand of Spain, and of Maximilian king of the
Romans, still remained. The latter undertook a cam-
paign, in 1516, against the Venetians and French; but,
as usual, his attempt ended in discomfiture. Ferdinand
of Spain died about the same time. The first act of his
grandson Charles was to form a new treaty with Francis:
it was agreed on at Noyon. By it Claude, the infant
daughter of the French king, was betrothed to Charles,
and the French claims on Naples were to be given up as
her dowry. There was a vague promise that Spain should
restore Navarre. But the principal point to Francis was
a siun of money and a pension to be paid him by Charles.
It is evident, on looking at the treaty, that Francis gave
all his advantages, his own claim to Naples, those of his
relative to Navarre, and all, apparently, for a beggarly
sum of money and an annual stipend. Could he have
confided his wants to an assembly of the nation, he
would not have needed thus basely to barter his own and
the nation's dearly won glory. Peace was, however,
purchased by it, and Europe enjoyed a short interval of
repose.
The death of Maximilian king of the Romans took
place in January, 1519- It left the throne of the empire
vacant ; and thus a new apple of discord was flung
between the two great monarchs of Europe. Charles
>. CHARLES V. DECLARED EMPEROR. 203
aspired to the imperial crown as heir of the house of
Austria; Francis as a powerful and independent monarch.
Both candidates employed all the means capable of
influencing the electors, omitting neither bribes, pro-
mises, nor intimidation. The question was decided by
a person superior to the influence of such motives : this
was Frederic duke of Saxony, the patron of Luther. To
him, for his virtues, his brother electors decreed the
imperial crown : but he magnanimously refused, gave
his voice to Charles, and brought his colleagues over to
this decision. Charles V. was declared emperor in 1520.
Francis had declared that he would woo the ambitious
prize, as a mistress, with chivalrous and generous feelings
towards his rival. Nevertheless he deeply felt the dis-
appointment, and by no means forgave the young emperor
his success. Hitherto the French monarch had enter-
tained feelings of friendship for Charles ; now he trans-
ferred them to Henry VIII., a monarch more congenial to
his temper. A meeting took place between them, at the
request of Francis, some leagues from Calais, at a spot
called ever after the" Field of the Cloth of Gold," from the
magnificence displayed by the two courts at this inter-
view. The time passed in festivities, and tournaments.
Although mutual acts of courtesy and tokens of confidence
passed between the princes, still the object of Francis was
not gained. Henry, though passionate and headlong,
had still the suspicious and selfish temper of his father
and of the Tudors : he was little given to friendship,
and was moreover infected with that insular prejudice
which represents the French as the natural enemies of
the English. Above all, he was jealous of the military
fame of Francis, and never espoused his interest till the
battle of Pavia humbled the gallant monarch, and erected
the emperor into a fitter object of envy. In short, to the
vanity of her king was chiefly owing England's observance
at that time of the great principle of the balance of
power. Henry met the emperor both before and after
his interview with Francis; and his leaning, as well as
204 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1520.
that of his minister Wolsey, was evidently towards
Charles.
Squabbles and skirmishes were the prelude to a general
war. An insurrection breaking out in Spain, was con-
sidered as affording a favourable opportunity for recover-
ing Navarre. Lesparre, one of the brothers of the house
of Foix, marched into the province and conquered it ;
but, elate with success, he imprudently entered Castile
and besieged Logrono. This roused the pride of the
Spaniards. An army marched against Lesparre. A
battle ensued, in which, despite the French superiority
in cavalry and artillery, the Spanish infantry routed that
opposed to them, and won the victory. Navarre was
again lost. This expedition was not considered as a
formal infraction of peace, the French having reserved to
themselves, by treaty, the right of succouring Navarre.
A difference at the same time arose between the em-
peror and the family of De la Mark, dukes of Bouillon.
Their estates were on both frontiers, and Francis sup-
ported De la Mark. The latter insolently defied the
emperor in full diet, and afforded him ample pretext to
arm and to march. Italy, however, was the true centre
of intrigue, the chief scene of political as well as of war-
like events. The ambitious spirit of the popes, each
eager to distinguish liis reign by some signal acquisition,
would not allow that country to remain at peace. Leo X.
first leagued with Francis to conquer Naples, and 6000
Swiss were enlisted under pontifical banners, the king
furnishing half their pay. Francis, however, either
cooled in the project, or had reason to suspect the pope's
intentions. He stopped the pay of these Swiss. Recri-
minations and angry despatches passed between them ;
and Leo, piqued, flung himself into the alliance of
Charles. It was agreed between them to reconquer
the Milanese for Francis Sforza ; to restore Parma and
Placentia to the Holy See; in short, to banish French
power and influence from Italy.
The government of the conquered province had been
such as to render the French yoke odious to the Milanese.
1520. INTRIGUES OF THE COURT. 205
The cause lay in the intrigues and corruption of the
court. As soon as the government has grown despotic,
we are instantly compelled to look for the causes of
events in the scandalous chronicle of harlotry. It has
been related that Anne, queen of Louis XII., had assem-
bled around her the daughters of the French nobility ;
and a court was" thus gradually formed, no longer com-
posed solely of warriors and statesmen, but of the gay
and idle also of both sexes. This sudden freedom had
an ill effect upon public morals. The principles and
habits of courtiers were not prepared for the increased
temptation. The grossness of the age did not yet admit
of that true and pure enjoyment of female society which
modern cultivation allows. Francis, when he was sud-
denly released from Amboise, and found himself possessed
of all power, and endowed with all attraction, in the
midst of an assemblage of beauty, gave a loose rein to
his passions. His wife Claude, daughter of the late
king, never had the command of his affections ; and the
court of Francis soon arrived at that state of dissolute-
ness which we find recorded in the pages of Brantome,
and from which we shrink in incredulity and disgust.
Francoise de Foix was one of those high-born maidens
whom Anne of Britany had reared near her person.
That queen had given her in marriage to the count de
Chateaubriand, who retained her at his remote chateau,
far from the fascinations of a court. Francis, however,
insisted on the presence of the beauty. The countess de
Chateaubriand was summoned to the capital, and soon
became the avowed and chosen mistress of her sovereign.
Her brother Lautrec was made governor of Milan, the
constable Bourbon being recalled to give place to him,
and the veteran Trivulzio being passed over. Thus were
two powerful men slighted, in order to make room for
the brother of the countess of Chateaubriand. Lautrec
was a gallant soldier, but he was tyrannical and insolent:
he became jealous of Trivulzio, who in his private station
still preserved the dignity and influence attached to his
years, his services, and his rank. Lautrec rendered the
206 HISTORY OF FHAXCE. 1521.
French king suspicious of Trivulzio. The mistress aided
the insinuations of her brother. The veteran marshal
instantly repaired to court. Being denied admittance to
the royal presence, he placed himself in the way of the
king near Montlhery. The monarch averted his regard
in silence when he perceived Trivulzio. The latter,
stricken by the injustice and ingratitude thus mani-
fested, and weighed down with eighty years of trial, took
to his couch and died. He was buried at Chatre, near
Montlhery, with this epitaph over his remains
Hie quiescit qui nunquatn quievit
Lautrec's government throughout was marked with simi-
lar injustice. The principal inhabitants of Milan were
in exile and in captivity. All sighed for the restoration
of the Sforzas. An act of insolence and imprudence on
the part of Lautrec's brother afforded the pope a pretext
for openly breaking with the French. He suddenly
attacked Reggio, the chief retreat of the Milanese exiles,
hoping to surprise it; Guicciardini, the governor, was
too vigilant, however, and the injustice of the aggressor
was all that was gained by the French.
At this critical period the general war broke out.
The imperialists invaded Champagne, but were repulsed
from before Mezieres by the gallantry of Bayard. The
young Montmorency, playmate of the king, here distin-
guished himself. Bonnivet the favourite, and Guise,
warred on the Spanish frontier. Milan was the spot
most vulnerable, and most threatened. Still Lautrec was
at court, demanding money, and declaring that he would
not depart without a supply. He was aware of the
enmity of the duchess d'Angouleme, who detested
madame de Chateaubriand and the house of Foix : he
knew that she was capable of intercepting, from hate to
him, the funds that were destined to the defence of the
Milanese. Lautrec was but too clear-sighted in this.
Still he was persuaded to depart ; the most solemn pro-
mises both of Francis and his mother guarantying the
despatch of the necessary funds. They never came.
1521. EFFORT TO RECOVER MILAN. 207
The confederates, consisting of Spain and all the Italian
powers, Venice alone excepted, commenced by the siege
of Parma. They were obliged to raise it. Lautrec was
at first successful, and he even lost an opportunity of
destroying the enemy. The Swiss served in both armies;
and their Diet at this time recalled them from either
service, to prevent the mutual slaughter of compatriots.
The message reached the Swiss in Lautrec's army ; that
addressed to the army of the confederates was inter-
cepted by the cardinal of Sion. Lautrec was thus aban-
doned by his best troops ; he was compelled to retreat ;
and the French were driven out of Milan. Pope Leo,
on his part, took Parma and Placentia. He had been
often heard to say, that he should die contented, could
he gain possession of these towns. When he won them,
his joy was so excessive that it brought on a fever, of
which he died.
The death of pope Leo gave some respite to the
French, and allowed Lautrec to rally. He received re-
inforcements from France; and induced 10,000 Swiss
to rejoin him, on promises of pay from the sum that had
not yet arrived. With these forces he pushed on to
recover Milan, driving before him the imperialists and
Sforza, who took refuge in a chateau and entrenched
park called the Bicoque. Lautrec's wish was to turn
this position ; he knew it to be too strong to carry by
assault. The Swiss demanded orders to attack. Lau-
trec used every means of dissuasion. Their reply was,
" Our pay, or the signal for action." The first of these
alternatives was not in Lautrec's power, and he was thus
forced to abide by the second. The Swiss, in whose
front rank Montmorency marched, attacked the en-
trenchments with their wonted fury. They would not
even wait for the filling up of the fosse. A tremendous
fire of artillery swept away whole ranks, while the
musquetry brought down, one by one, the brave fellows
who had descended into the ditch, and were vainly
poking the walls with their lances. Their general, de
la Pierre, and twenty-two of the Swiss captains, perished.
208 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1522.
Montmorency, wounded, was almost smothered under a
heap of slain. The rest of the Swiss, indignant against
Lautrec for the consequences of their own temerity, in-
stantly abandoned him, and marched off for their moun-
tains. Thus were the French once more driven from
Italy.
The rage of Francis against his unsuccessful general
was extreme. He refused to see him. The duchess d'An-
gouleme exasperated the king's animosity by her cen-
sures ; while madame de Chateaubriand dared not inter-
cede for her brother. At length the constable procured
Lautrec admission to the king, who covered him with
reproaches. " It is not I who am to blame," said Lau-
trec ; " the gendarmerie have served eighteen months
without pay ; and the wilfulness of the Swiss, both in
fighting against my wish, and then abandoning me, was
owing to my inability to pay them." " And the
400,000 crowns?" said the king: "Were never received,"
was the answer. Francis summoned his treasurer,
Semblancay, and asked him sternly, how came it that
the promised sum had not yet reached Lautrec ? The
treasurer replied, that the duchess d'Angouleme had
made him pay it to her. The king then rushed to the
apartments of his mother : " It is to your avarice then,
madam, that I owe the loss of the Milanese." The
duchess could not deny the receipt of the sum, but she
alleged having received it on her private account. The
excuse did not satisfy the monarch, and Semblancay
kept his station. The vengeance of the queen-mother
henceforth unremittingly followed the unfortunate trea-
surer. Heads of accusation can never be wanting against
a man entrusted with the finances of a kingdom ; and
five years after, Semblancay, an honest and irreproach-
able minister, fell a victim to the intrigues and iniquity
of the monarch's mother, and died as a malefactor on
the common gibbet.
Whilst Francis met with these reverses, which were
the natural consequences of the blunders and reckless-
ness of his administration, the emperor Charles was
1523. THE CONSTABLE BOURBON OFFENDED. 209
carefully securing every friend, and improving every
advantage. The new pope, Adrian, was his creature :
Wolsey's resentment, on being disappointed of the tiara,
was soothed for a time; and Henry VIII. was induced
not only to break with France, but to send thither an
army under the duke of Suffolk, which, however,
achieved nothing remarkable. The Venetian republic, also,
the last of the Italian powers that inclined to France,
was estranged from his friendship, and joined the
alliance against him.
Not content with making every foreign potentate his
foe, the French monarch had at the same time the im-
prudence to alienate the most powerful of his subjects.
Trivulzio, we have seen, expired beneath his neglect.
Charles, duke of Bourbon, and constable of the king-
dom, was now driven by injustice to league with the
enemies of his country. The last duke of Bourbon
had left a daughter, Suzanne. The title, and a certain
portion of the heritage, went by law to the male heir ;
but as a considerable part would be inherited by Su-
zanne, the paternal care of Louis XII. arranged a mar-
riage between Charles, the existing duke, and Suzanne
de Bourbon, thus preserving unbroken the heritage and
title of that illustrious family. The duke was of a
handsome person ; and on the death of his duchess, Su-
zanne, without issue, the duchess d'Angouleme made
advances to fill her place. This she was the more for-
ward in doing, as, being descended in the female line
from a previous duke of Bourbon, she considered herself
to have claims on that part of the property which might
descend to a female. The constable, however, was blind
to her advances, backed by this tacit menace. And the
slighted duchess instantly put forward her claim to the
Bourbonnais as appertaining by right to her.
Bourbon had previously received affronts from the
king, who disliked his cold temper and reserved de-
meanour. The duke was grave and dignified, fond of
war and business, and averse to join in the follies of a
court. It appears, too, that Francis amused himself at
VOL. i. p
210 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1523.
the duke's expense ; and the latter bore raillery with so
little good humour, as to be called the " Prince of small
endurance." Whatever was the cause, they certainly
disliked each other; and Francis manifested this feeling
first by recalling Bourbon from the government of Milan,
and afterwards by giving the command of the vanguard
in one of the northern campaigns to the duke of Alen-
con, although that post of honour was the constable's
right.
Bearing all this in mind, when his hitherto unques-
tioned right to the Bourbonnais was called in question,
the duke instantly apprehended that a league to destroy
him had been planned by the king and his mother. Du-
prat, the chancellor, was but a creature of the latter ;
and to hope for justice in the event of trial was absurd.
Bourbon was, therefore, driven to look abroad for a
refuge or for vengeance. The emperor's emissary was
at hand, proffering him that prince's sister in marriage,
and many advantages, if he would join the emperor's
party, and raise a civil war in France against its mo-
narch. Bourbon hesitated long, but finally acceded to
the proposals of Charles. Francis in the mean time had
been roused from the lap of pleasure by the league of all
Europe against him. He was at Lyons, on his way to
Italy at the head of an army, when Bourbon was about
to take the fatal step. Francis tried to soothe him : he
showed his confidence by appointing him lieutenant-
general of the kingdom; and assured him, that whatever
might be the result of this unfortunate process, he would
not see him despoiled. The object of Francis seems to
have been the gratification of his mother, and the driving
of Bourbon to a marriage with her. This failed, how-
ever, like every act of the monarch's policy. The con-
stable determined to join the emperor. But Francis was
now near, accompanied with forces ; and as circum-
stances had awakened his suspicions, he called on the
constable to accompany him to Italy. Bourbon feigned
sickness, and took to his couch, as a pretext for delay ;
till at length, seeing that it would be dangerous to trifle
1524. BOURBON JOINS THE EMPEROR. 211
any longer with the impatient Francis, the constable
dispersed his suite and fled, followed by a single attend-
ant, into the dominions of the emperor. Francis gained
by this desertion, as he confiscated the wide domains of
Bourbon. Charles acquired what he least wanted, a
general, and an unfortunate claimant.
Bonnivet, the personal enemy of Bourbon, was now
entrusted with the command of the French army. He
marched without opposition into the Milanese, and might
have taken the capital had he pushed on to its gates.
Having by irresolution lost it, he retreated to winter
quarters behind the Tesino. The operations of the
English in Picardy, of the imperialists in Champagne,
and of the Spaniards near the Pyrenees, were equally
insignificant. The spring of 1524 brought on an action,
if the attack of one point can be called such, which
proved decisive for the time. Bonnivet advanced rashly
beyond the Tesino. The imperialists, commanded by
four able generals, Launoi, Pescara, Bourbon, and Sforza,
succeeded in almost cutting off his retreat. They at the
same time refused Bonnivet's offer to engage. They
hoped to weaken him by famine. The Swiss first mur-
mured against the distress occasioned by want of pre-
caution. They deserted across the river ; and Bonnivet,
thus abandoned, was obliged to make a precipitate and
perilous retreat. A bridge was hastily flung across the
Sessia, near Romagnano; and Bonnivet, with his best
knights and gensdarmerie, undertook to defend the pass-
age of the rest of the army. The imperialists, led on
by Bourbon, made a furious attack. Bonnivet was
wounded, and he gave his place to Bayard, who, never
entrusted with a high command, was always chosen for
that of a forlorn hope. The brave Vandenesse was soon
killed ; and Bayard himself received a gun-shot through
the reins. The gallant chevalier, feeling his wound
mortal, caused himself to be placed in a sitting posture
beneath a tree, his face to the enemy, and his sword
fixed in guise of a cross before him. The constable
Bourbon, who led the imperialists, soon came up to the
p 2
212 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1524.
dying Bayard, and expressed his compassion. " Weep
not for me/' said the chevalier, "but for thyself. I die
in performing my duty ; thou art betraying thine."
Nothing marks more strongly the great rise, the sudden
sacro-sanctity of the royal authority in those days, than
the general horror which the treason of Bourbon excited;
whilst not very many years previous, the frequent con-
spiracies of Louis XII., when duke of Orleans, are
related as common occurrences, of no extraordinary cri-
minality. The fact is, that this sudden horror of treason
was owing, in a great measure, to the revived study of
the classics, in which treason to one's country is univer-
sally mentioned as an impiety and a crime of the deepest
dye. Feudality, with all its oaths, had no such horror
of treason. Thus it happened, singularly, that these
classic writings, considered, and rightly so, as replete
with a spirit hostile to tyranny, nevertheless afforded to
the modern world a maxim which has proved one of the
strongest supports of kingly power.
Bonnivet had evacuated Italy after this defeat at Ro-
magnano. Bourbon's animosity stimulated him to push
his advantage. He urged the emperor to invade France,
and recommended the Bourbonnais and his own patri-
monial provinces as those most advisable to invade.
Bourbon wanted to raise his friends in insurrection
against Francis ; but Charles descried selfishness in this
scheme of Bourbon, and directed Pescara to march with
the constable into the south of France and lay siege to
Marseilles. Although in this his views were thwarted,
still Bourbon promised that the terror of his name should
bring the burgesses with the keys at the first cannon-
shot. The boast was idle ; Marseilles made an obstinate
resistance ; and Pescara, who envied the exiled prince,
did not spare his railleries on the occasion. Whilst
mass was performing in the general's tent, a shot from
the town swept away the officiating priest and several
officers. On hearing the bustle, Bourbon came forth to
ask the cause : ' ' Oh ! " replied Pescara, " it is the bur-
1524. SIEGE OF PAVIA. 213
gesses of Marseilles, who bring us the keys of their
town."
Francis, in the mean time, alarmed by the invasion,
had assembled an army. He burned to employ it, and
avenge the late affront. The king of England, occupied
with the Scotch, gave him respite in the north; and he
resolved to employ this by marching, late as the season
was, into Italy. His generals, who by this time were
sick of warring beyond the Alps, opposed the design :
but not even the death of his queen, Claude, could stop
Francis. He passed Mount Cenis ; marched upon Milan,
whose population was spiritless and broken by the plague,
and took it without resistance. It was then mooted
whether Lodi or Pavia should be besieged. The latter,
imprudently, as it is said, was preferred. It was at
this time that pope Clement VII., of the house of Me-
dici, who had lately succeeded Adrian, made the most
zealous efforts to restore peace between the monarchies.
He found Charles and his generals arrogant and un-
willing to treat. The French, said they, must on no
account be allowed a footing in Italy. Clement, im-
pelled by pique towards the emperor, or generosity to
Francis, at once abandoned the prudent policy of his
predecessors, and formed a league with the French king,
to whom, after all, he brought no accession of force.
This step proved afterwards fatal to the city of Rome.
The siege of Pavia was formed about the middle of
October. Antonio de Leyva, an experienced officer,
supported by veteran troops, commanded in the town.
The fortifications were strong, and were likely to hold
for a considerable time. By the month of January the
French had made no progress ; and the impatient Francis
despatched a considerable portion of his army for the
invasion of Naples, hearing that the country was drained
of troops. This was a gross blunder, which Pescara
observing, forbore to send any force to oppose the ex-
pedition. He knew that the fate of Italy would be de-
cided before Pavia. Bourbon, in the mean time, dis-
gusted with the jealousies and tardiness of the imperial
p 3
214 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1525.
generals, employed the winter in raising an army of
lansquenets on his own account. From the duke of
Savoy he procured funds ; and early in the year 1525 the
constable joined Pescara at Lodi with a fresh army of
12,000 mercenaries. They had, besides, some 7000
foot, and not more than 1500 horse. With these they
marched to the relief of Pavia.
Francis had a force to oppose to them, not only in-
ferior in numbers, but so harassed with a winter's siege,
that all the French generals of experience counselled a
retreat. Bonnivet and his young troop of courtiers were
for righting; and the monarch hearkened to them. Pavia,
to the north of the river, was covered in great part by the
chiUeau and walled park of Mirabel. Adjoining this,
and on a rising ground, was the French camp, extending
to the Tesino. Through the camp, or through the park,
lay the only ways by which the imperialists could reach
Pavia. The camp was strongly entrenched and defended
by artillery, except on the side of the park of Mirabel,
with which it communicated, and which was occupied
by the duke of Alencon, commanding what was called
the rear-guard.
The night of the 23d of February was employed by
the imperialists in sapping the park-wall. At daybreak
on the 24th a large breach appeared, and the marquis
del Guasto rushed in, surprised the duke of Alencon,
and carried the chateau of Mirabel. Brion succeeded
in rallying the French, and keeping del Guasto in check,
until de Genouillac, the master of the artillery, brought
his cannon to bear on the park and its breach. His
vigorous and well directed fire discomfited del Guasto,
slaughtered the imperialists, and drove them in rout and
retreat back through the breach. This was victory
enough, could the French king have been contented with
it. But the impatient Francis no sooner beheld his ene-
mies in rout, than he was eager to chase them in person,
and complete the victory with his good sword. He
rushed forth from his entrenchments at the head of his
gensdarmerie, flinging himself between the enemy and
1525. BATTLE OF PA VIA. 215
his own artillery, which was thus masked and rendered
useless. The imperialists rallied as soon as they found
themselves safe from the fire of the cannon: the other
French chiefs advanced to the succour of their monarch ;
Alencon supported by the Swiss on the left, Chabannes
on the right ; and thus it was no longer the attack and
defence of an entrenched camp, but a drawn battle upon
an open plain.
The famous black bands of Germans in the French
service found themselves to the right of the king, be-
tween him and the marshal de Chabannes. They were
opposed by Bourbon and his lansquenets, who bore
toward the brother mercenaries of their country a deadly
hate. Bourbon's vengeance led them on, and the black
bands were annihilated in the struggle that took place.
Their leader, the attainted duke of Suffolk, perished
with them, as well as a brother of the duke of Lorraine.
Bourbon then turned upon the corps of Chabannes,
whom he had separated from the centre; and his lans-
quenets were here equally successful. Chabannes was
made prisoner, and slain in a quarrel between two cap-
tains, who disputed the honour of having taken him.
The king, in the mean time, fought with undaunted
courage. He slew the marquis St. Ange with his own
hand, and routed the Italian troops. But he was ill
seconded on his left by the Swiss, who unaccountably
forgot their ancient valour, and by the duke of Alencon,
who fled disgracefully from the field. The Spaniards
pressed him, but could not vanquish the French knights
resolved to perish around their monarch. At length
Bourbon, victorious over the entire right wing, turned
the stream of his lansquenets against the centre. They
broke the remaining mass of gensdarmerie, and separ-
ated them into knots, which still fought desperately,
and refused to fly. The battle, confined to this one
point, became a confused butchery. Chaumont, Hector
de Bourbon, perished : the marechal de Foix, Lautrec's
brother, received his death wound, while he was seeking,
with his drawn sword, Bonnivet, the enemy of his house,
p 4
216 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1525.
and the cause of this disaster. Bonnivet himself, un-
willing to survive, flung himself on the pikes of the
lansquenets. The sight of his dead body gratified the
gloomy vengeance of Bourbon. The king, in the mean
time, behind a heap of slain, defended himself valiantly;
so beaten and shattered, so begrimed with blood and
dust, as to be scarcely distinguishable, notwithstanding
his conspicuous armour. He had received several wounds,
one in the forehead ; and his horse, struck with a ball in
the head, reared, fell back, and crushed him with his
weight : still Francis rose, and laid prostrate several of
the enemies that rushed upon him. At this moment he
was recognised by Pomperant, the only companion of
Bourbon's flight. This gentleman sprang to his aid,
fell an instant as if for pardon at the monarch's feet,
and then rose to defend him. He at the same time
counselled Francis to surrender, telling him that Bourbon
was near. The king, enraged at the name, protested he
would rather die than surrender to the traitor. Pom-
perant therefore sent for Lannoi, the viceroy of Xaples,
to whom Francis yielded his sword.
Such was the signal defeat that put an end to all
French conquests and claims in Italy. Francis wrote
the following brief letter to his mother: " All is lost,
madam, save honour and life." He was removed to the
castle of Pizzighitone, till the emperor's pleasure should
be known. Though humbled, the king did not lose his
equanimity : he even received Bourbon without giving
vent to indignation ; Pescara he welcomed with admir-
ation and esteem. The first act of the emperor, on
learning the captivity of his rival, was to conceal his joy,
to forbid rejoicing, and to affect moderation. Charles's
instinct was dissimulation. His next act was ta pro-
pose the harshest terms to Francis, the cession not only
of Milan and of Naples, but also of Burgundy. Francis,
who flattered himself that such a want of generosity
proceeded from the crafty counsellors of Charles rather
than from himself, longed for an interview with that
prince. The desire was eagerly caught up by Lannoi,
IS 25. TREATY WITH ENGLAND. 217
who was anxious to remove Francis from Italy, where
his guard was uncertain, and where either Sforza,
Bourbon, or Pescara, might conspire to liberate him for
their own advantage. The headlong Francis gave in to
the snare. He himself furnished galleys for the voyage
to Spain, and his mandate prohibited the rest of the fleet
from attempting to intercept him. Arrived at Madrid,
Francis was still kept closely guarded. The interview,
for which he had made such efforts, was denied him ;
and many weeks elapsed, without the emperor's deigning
to visit his captive. Such unexpected neglect cut the
sanguine Francis to the soul. His spirit sunk under
his misfortune and defeat ; and a fever, occasioned by
despondency, threatened to put an end at once to the
Life of Francis and the advantages of Charles. The
latter at length gave to interest what he refused to ge-
nerosity. He visited Francis, affected cordiality, and
was profuse of the kindest promises. Obvious as were
the motives and the insincerity of this friendship, the
royal captive trusted to it, and recovered his spirits and
his health.
France in the mean time, though stunned and dis-
ordered by the first news of the disaster of Pavia, was
recovering its composure and force. The 'duchess of
Angouleme was regent; the count de Vendome, cousin
of the constable Bourbon, did not take advantage of his
being first prince of the blood, to embroil the kingdom.
The parliament, indeed, displeased with the imperious
character of the king, and angered on account of the
concordat and other causes, gave the regent some
trouble. But new allies flocked to France in her dis-
tress. The Italian states were all ready to combine
against the emperor, whose power they now dreaded.
Henry VIII. of England instantly flung his support into
the scale of the discomfited Francis, and concluded a treaty
with the regent, stipulating that the kingdom should
on no account be dismembered. Large numbers of the
people of Alsace had taken advantage of the opportunity
to rise and invade France, excited by that religious
218 HISTORY OF FRANCE. j 526.
zeal which scorns restraint. The count of Guise mus-
tered some forces, fell upon them in time, and cut them to
pieces. It was for this service that Francis afterwards
created the county of Guise into a duchy-peerage, an
honour heretofore granted solely to princes of the blood.
The parliament made great opposition to this novelty ;
but the king was resolute in his friendship, and Guise
became one of the high noblesse of France, a duke and
peer.
Negotiations for the liberation of the king proceeded,
with little prospect of success, at Madrid. Bourbon
had betaken himself thither ; his presence and his claims
were no small source of difficulties. The emperor had
promised him his sister Eleanora, queen-dowager of
Portugal, in marriage ; but as Francis, to disappoint
Bourbon, offered to marry this princess himself, the
constable was obliged to forego the honour. The marquis
Pescara dying at this time, the emperor offered the com-
mand of his Italian armies to Bourbon, who was urged
to accept of it, and was thus got rid of. Still the terms
offered to Francis were so harsh that he could not
accede to them. His sister, the duchess of Alencon,
had come to tend him in his illness and captivity. She
was now about to return ; and Francis put into her hand
his absolute resignation of the kingdom, that he might
be considered as dead, and no farther efforts be made for
his liberation. This alarmed the emperor, who became
willing to relax in some degree. Still his demands were so
exorbitant and unreasonable, that Francis at length con-
sented to extricate himself by a breach of faith, and to
swear to a treaty, the stipulations of which he was deter-
mined not to perform.
With these opposite views, grasping severity, that
over-reached itself, on the one side, and premeditated
bad faith, the almost compulsory resource of Francis, on
the other, the treaty of Madrid was concluded. By it
the king agreed to give up Burgundy, to renounce all
right to Milan and Naples, as well as to Flanders and
Artois. He was to be set at liberty, and to espouse
1526. FKANCIS RELEASED. 219
Eleanora of Portugal, the emperor's sister. He was, more-
over, to abandon his allies, the king of Navarre, the
dukes of Gueldres, of Wirtemberg, and De la Mark ;
and he was to re-establish Bourbon in all his property
and privileges. Moreover, the two sons of Francis were
to remain as hostages for the performance of these con-
ditions, the king himself promising to return into cap-
tivity if they were not fulfilled. On the 14th of
January, 1526, the treaty was signed; Francis taking the
precaution to protest secretly, in presence of his chan-
cellor, against the validity of such exactions. Charles
himself could not but mistrust the sincerity of Francis,
and he even retained him prisoner a month after the
signature. The king's health again declined in conse-
quence ; and at length Charles, in a hurried and irreso-
lute way, gave orders for his final liberation. He was
led to the river Bidassoa, which separates the countries:
his sons, who appeared on the opposite bank, were ex-
changed for him, and Francis, mounting a horse of ex-
treme swiftness, galloped without drawing rein to St.
Jean de Luz, and thence to Bayonne.
Thus freed from captivity, on terms which, if fulfilled,
must ruin his kingdom, and if unfulfilled must stain his
honour, Francis, it might have been expected, would be
instantly occupied in the duty of defending himself and
retrieving his affairs. His first act on arriving at Bor-
deaux, however, was to become enamoured of made-
moiselle d'Heilly, better known as the duchess d'Etampes,
who superseded the countess of Chateaubriand in his
affections, and held thenceforward the greatest influence
over the monarch
The liberation of Francis was the signal for a general
league against the emperor. The Italian powers were
ever disposed to unite against the strongest. Sforza had
already rebelled against Charles, and had been driven
from Milan by Pescara. All of them, the pope, the
Venetians, the Florentines, now formed an alliance with
the king, on condition that Sforza should remain in pos-
session of Milan. A treaty to this effect was signed at
220 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1526.
Cognac, but was kept secret for some time. The states
of Burgundy had assembled, to protest against the trans-
fer of their province to the emperor. The king, they
said, had no right nor power to make such a stipulation
without their consent. When Lannoi, on the part of
Charles, demanded the cession of Burgundy, Francis
referred him to the answer of the states. The emperor,
on learning this evasion of the treaty, caUed on Francis,
as a man of honour, to redeem his word and return into
captivity.
This was a trying moment for Francis, who piqued
himself on possessing all the chivalric virtues. He could
not openly deride the credulity of Charles, as Louis XI.
or Ferdinand the Catholic would have done. He was per-
plexed, distressed, and could only allege the necessity of
the case ; a plea which by no means satisfied his nice
notions of honour. He therefore resolved on taking the
advice of his subjects. Despotic as he was, he felt in
this case at least the necessity of having the nation to
participate his responsibility. To call together the
states-general of the kingdom was obviously the natural
step in such a case. But no; Francis dreaded the
very name of that assembly, in which the vulgar tiers
6tat, or people, had a voice. The legists and judges of
the parliament had for some time taken upon them to
represent the nation, in demurring to taxes and to edicts.
Francis, and his minister Duprat, though not wholly
contented with the parliament, yet deemed that prefer-
able to an assembly of burgesses. It was resolved
therefore between them, that the voice of the nation
should now be taken, not in the good old states-general,
but in what has since been called an assembly of nota-
bles one of the most unfortunate inventions or inno-
vations that despotic craft could have imagined.
This assembly of notables, or, as some historians will
call it, this bed of justice, was held in December, 1526.
It consisted of prelates, nobles, courtiers, gentlemen, the
parliament of Paris, and the presidents of the provincial
parliaments; the only admixture of democracy being
1526. ASSEMBLY OF NOTABLES. 221
the provost of merchants and the four sheriffs of the city
of Paris.* Before those Francis made a long discourse ;
entering at large into the affairs of the kingdom, its
finances and resources. He recounted the misfortunes
of his captivity, and declared his readiness to return to
it, if his people thought that either their interest or his
honour so demanded. The reply of each class, for all
answered separately, was, that he was absolved from an
unjust and compulsory oath, against which he had pre-
viously protested, and the fulfilment of which the privi-
leges and welfare of his people alike forbade. They at
the same time accorded to him the liberty of raising
two millions for the ransom of his sons, assuming in this
particular all the rights of the states-general. Thus
satisfied, Francis published the general league against
the emperor, denominated Holy, because the pope was
at its head. Not only the Italian states, but the Swiss
and the king of England acceded to it ; so that the
reverses of Francis, if they had stripped him of terri-
tories, rendered him much stronger in alliances than his
rival. The emperor, on his side, promised to Bourbon
the investiture of the Milanese, if he succeeded in ex-
pelling Sforza. This the constable accomplished, sub-
sisting his mercenary troops on the unfortunate inhabit-
ants of Milan for of money Charles had as notorious a
lack as his grandsire Maximilian. Milan taken, pillaged,
and wasted, how was Bourbon to support his army that
army by which he lived ? for since his exile the prince
had inhabited camps, and was averse to any more orderly
way of life. He loved his soldiers, rapacious and licen-
tious as they were ; and was beloved by them, as a valiant
and successful leader inclined to tolerate the license of
the freebooter. Since his treason, Bourbon had met
every where with insults and ingratitude from the French,
the Spaniards, the emperor, and his brother generals.
This situation made him misanthropic, and his character
degenerated into that of the reckless and ferocious corsair.
* We may judge of the independence of these only representatives of the
commons by the fact that Francis caused his learned follower, Budseus, to
be elected provost of the merchants of the city of Paris.
222 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1527-
To obtain plunder for his army of lansquenets, in lieu
of pay, became indispensable ; and he accordingly led
them south, menacing all the great cities of the peninsula,
and uncertain which he should attack. Florence and
Rome had both declared against the emperor : Bourbon
fixed upon the imperial city as the most glorious prey,
and accordingly marched thither his mercenary army.
Pope Clement was terrified at his approach, and used
all his country's artifices to avert the danger. It ap-
proached nevertheless, and Clement shut himself up in
the castle of St. Angelo. The army of Bourbon attacked
Rome in the morning of the 5th of May, 1527- Bour-
bon himself applied the first scaling-ladder, and was in
the act of mounting it, when the first shot from the
walls struck him and put an end to his disastrous
career. His army passed over his body to the assault,
and Rome was carried by storm. The pillage was
general, so merciless were the soldiery. Not all the
ravages of Hun and Goth surpassed those of the army
of the first prince in Christendom. The cruelty of the
German soldiers was unequalled : they indulged in the
most horrid extravagance of debauch and impiety. For
two months they remained masters of the city; and the
pontiff himself was finally obliged to surrender himself a
prisoner.
This new triumph of the emperor, over the head of
the church too, roused the zeal of Henry VIII. He
already meditated a divorce from Catherine, Charles's
aunt ; and it therefore became his policy to befriend and
protect the pope, whose assistance he would chiefly re-
quire, against the emperor. Wolsey was therefore des-
patched to France ; the treaty between the crowns was
renewed ; and a joint army was raised, to march into
Italy under the command of Lautrec. That general
now compensated for his former ill success. He made
himself master of Genoa by the aid of Andrew Doria;
and took Pavia by assault, abandoning it to pillage, in
revenge for the defeat which the French had suffered
under its walls. The conquest of Milan would have
1528. OPERATIONS ACAINST NAPLES. 223
been easy ; but as that city was now to belong to Sforza,
the French general turned from it towards Rome, in
order to procure the liberation of the pope. His ap-
proach effected this : the emperor became less harsh in
his terms, and Clement soon found himself free at
Orvieto.
It was about this time, towards the commencement
of 1528, that challenges and defiances passed between
Charles and Francis. The former, in his reply to the
French envoy, reproached the restored king with an in-
famous breach of faith; and hinted that he was ready to
support his charge as a true knight, sword in hand.
Francis, indignant, sent a reply, that the emperor " lied
in his throat;" and demanded a rendezvous, or champ
clos, for the duel; but notwithstanding the choler of both
parties, it never took place. It is singular, that in this
affair of the single combat the cold and politic Charles
seems to have been most in earnest, whilst the obstacles
and delays were raised by the headlong and chivalric
Francis.
Lautrec in the mean time advanced to the conquest
of Naples. He marched to the eastern coast, and
soon reduced the provinces bordering on the Adriatic.
The command of Bourbon's army had devolved on Phi-
libert, the last prince of Orange of the house of Chalons,
another French chief of talents and influence, whom the
petulance of Francis had alienated from him and driven
into exile. With some difficulty this prince withdrew
his army from the spoils of Rome to the defence of
Naples. He was not strong enough to face Lautrec in
the field: the prince of Orange, therefore, and Mon-
cada the new viceroy, shut themselves up in Naples,
where they were soon besieged by Lautrec. Andrew
Doria, a faithful partisan of France, held the sea with
his Genoese galleys, and blockaded the port. It was
proposed to reduce the town by famine. After some
time Moncada, fitting out all the galleys in port, made
an attack on the Genoese, then commanded by Philip-
pine Doria, Andrew's nephew. The attempt failed ;
224 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1528.
the Spaniards were beaten, Moncada slain, and most
of the captains taken ; amongst others, the marquis del
Guasto, and two brothers Colonna. Naples thus became
in prospect an easy prey to Lautrec. Its fall might have
brought the final submission of the kingdom ; but the
same blunder which Francis persevered in committing
throughout his whole reign, lost him this advantage,
among so many others.
Such was the fatal habit of the French king to dis-
gust and alienate his best and most attached friends.
Doria, for example, like Trivulzio, was an Italian who
united with a love of his own country a firm attachment
to the French. His exertions had but just torn Genoa
from the emperor to give it to Francis : he was now
doing the very same by Naples, when it pleased the
French court to insult and disoblige him. The prisoners
he had won in action were taken from him, and no
allowance was made for their ransom. These insults to
himself Doria might have passed over ; of wrongs
offered to his country he was more sensible. The French
undertook to fortify Savona, and to raise it into a rival of
Genoa. They removed thither the trade in salt, one of
the most lucrative sources of the Genoese commerce. Doria
expostulated ; and another admiral, Barbescenas, was
sent to supersede him and bring him prisoner to France.
When the admiral arrived, Doria received him, saying,
" I know what brings you hither : the French vessels I
deliver to you ; the Genoese remain under my command.
Do the rest of your errand if you dare ! " The conse-
quence of this blindness and ingratitude on the part of
Francis was soon seen ; Genoa declared herself free,
and allied herself with the emperor. The blockade of
Naples by sea was raised ; and the influx of fresh troops
and provisions enabled the city to defy its besiegers.
These, encamped under a midsummer sun, ill supplied,
and harassed, were soon attacked by pestilence. Lau-
trec their general died of it. The marquis of Saluces,
who succeeded him, raised the siege and retired to
Aversa, where he soon after surrendered to the prince of
1529- PEACE OF CAMERA Y. 225
Orange ; and thus another unsuccessful Italian expedi-
tion was added to the long list of French disasters.
Another army led by the count of St. Pol into the north
of Italy met with as little success. Francis felt that he
could not re-establish his fortunes : he sickened of the
love of glory that had hitherto animated him, and
showed himself willing to treat for peace on any terms,
provided the cession of Burgundy was not insisted on.
Charles by this time saw that the nation would never
consent to such a sacrifice : he therefore waved this part
of the treaty of Madrid. The negotiations on both sides
were carried on by the duchess of Angouleme and Mar-
garet of Austria. The king gave up all his claims to
possessions in Italy, Milan, Naples, and even Asti,
and abandoned all his allies in that country ; he re-
nounced all right of sovereignty over Flanders or Artois ;
he ceded Tournay and Arras ; two millions were to be
paid as ransom for the young princes ; the lands of the
house of Bourbon were to be restored to the heirs of
that family (a stipulation, by the by, never performed) ;
and, finally, the treaty was to be sealed by the marriage
of Francis with Eleonora, the emperor's sister. This
peaceof Cambray, called also the "Lady's Peace," was con-
cluded in August, 1 529 : it was as glorious for Charles,
as it was disgraceful to France and her monarch. The
emperor remained supreme master of Italy ; the pope
submitted, and obtained the re-establishment of the
Medici in Florence, with hereditary power ; the Vene-
tians, who said that Cambray was destined to be their
purgatory, were shorn of their conquests. Charles for-
gave Sforza, and left him the duchy of Milan. Henry
VIII. reaped nothing save die emperor's enmity by his
interference : the English monarch showed himself ge-
nerous to Francis, by remitting to him, at this moment,
a large debt. Thus was Europe pacified for the time.
On a retrospect over more than half a century pre-
ceding, we may contemplate a stirring and eventful
period. War appears with all its variety of achieve-
ments and fortunes. Ambition, conquest, reverses,
VOL. I. Q
226 HISTORY OF PRANCE. 1520.
intrigues, the rise and fall of families, the extension of
territories and powers, the most prominent materials
of history are there to be found ; and yet all this is but
an idle pageant. Scarcely one of these mighty events
forms a link in the great chain of cause and effect.
They are inconsequential, merely a web woven to be again
unravelled, like Charles VIII.'s conquest of Italy, of
which not a vestige now remained to Francis. Why
is this ? because the selfish wills and views of indivi-
dual monarchs had become the sole grounds of policy, the
sole motives of action. Every thing like principle was
extinguished. The people, the aristocracy, the church,
had each and all humbled themselves in the dust be-
neath the monarch's foot In them there is no change
or progress to record. The monarch alone " playing
his fantastic tricks before high heaven," occupies the
stage ; and the historian has but to handle the ro-
mancer's pen in following the steps, detailing the motives,
describing the achievements and disasters of his hero.
It is relief to have this selfishness, this monotonous
operation of the same cause, here interrupted by a great
principle that began to agitate all classes, and to give
fresh life to the public mind in Europe. This was the
great maxim of religious freedom, the groundwork of
the reformation.
The present limits do not allow space to discuss the
supreme authority and infallibility usurped by the popes.
The most enlightened Romanists defend it more as an
expediency than as a right. In barbarous times it might
have had its utility, and might also have continued
useful, had it been exercised according to the common
rules of humanity and justice. Unfortunately no earthly
throne was ever stained with more crime than the papal
chair, no judgment-seat gave more iniquitous verdicts,
no philosopher and logician united ever uttered dogmas
more absurd. It pleaded the same prescriptive right to
rule the thoughts of men that kings put forth to rule
their actions; and both were allowed by man's igno-
rance or inertness as long as such pretensions galled him
1520. HOSTILITY TO PAPAL DOMINION. 227
not. In all ages, however, were spirits found to call this
authority in question. Around the northern shores of
the Mediterranean especially, traditions of the greater
freedom of the primitive church were preserved. In
Spain we find the doctrine of the real presence denied
almost as soon as it was promulgated. In Provence a
sect existed for centuries unnoticed, who held tenets
anterior and opposed to those of Rome. We have seen
the creed of the unfortunate Albigenses extinguished in
blood : England had its Lollards : the higher classes
of society when they flung off their respect for Rome
sunk into atheism and unbelief; for the accusations
against the Templars cannot be considered as totally
void of foundation : and it is recorded that Italy,
uniting congenial extremes, produced frequent instances
of unbelief in high places, even in the very chair of St.
Peter, by the side of a bigoted and credulous faith,
which it is trite but not unjust to call idolatry.
As civilisation advanced, the moral power and au-
thority of the popes gradually declined. The long
schism, and the lives and characters of the pontiffs, with
many analogous circumstances, contributed to this. And
later popes, by endeavouring to supply the loss of moral
power by the acquisition of temporal authority, aggravated
the growing disrespect for the Holy See. At the be-
ginning of the sixteenth century France was, perhaps,
the country most in advance with respect to views of
reform. Though the fate of the Albigenses warned
men from absolute schism, still all classes showed a dis-
trust and enmity towards Rome. The commons remon-
strated against the pope s usurpations ; the nobles and
even the national clergy joined in the sentiment ; and
the monarch, instead of dreading excommunication, was
never more popular than in warring against the papal
power. Louis XII., the father of his people, had struck
a medal to perpetuate his own and the nation's abhor-
rence of papal bad faith. Its circumscription was,
Perdam Babylonia nomen, " I will destroy the very
name of Babylon." It served as a motto afterwards
Q 2
228 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1521.
for Luther, who thus borrowed his anathema against
Rome from the Most Christian King.
The papal tree was then like the vine, it bore fruit only
at its extremities. While the pontiff was warring at
home with the Colonnas, and his imperial city itself
was sacked by Bourbon ; while France refused her
annates, and was jealous even of the presence of a legate;
the emissaries of Rome were collecting tribute round
the shores of the Baltic. A monk who came to vend
billets of salvation for crowns would have been received
in France with a shout of derision : in Germany, on
the contrary, he found a large market of credulity. In-
dulgences professing to remit all punishments in this
world and the next, and consequently efficient to save the
souls of the living or the dead, were disposed of in
thousands. The avarice of the popes was still greater
than the credulity of the Germans. Martin Luther
called in question the efficacy of these indulgences ;
and his word, like a talisman, broke the spell of Romish
supremacy.
To enter at large into this event and its causes belongs
to the historian of Germany. Luther published his
celebrated propositions in 1517- In 1521 they were
condemned by the Sorbonne, the preamble of whose
censure declares, " that flames and not reasoning ought
to be employed against the arrogance of Luther." And
what is more singular, the jurists of the parliament were
equally zealous for punishing schism by death. The
new doctrines came to them blended with democratic
principles ; and the parliament, now the court of peers,
and reconciled to the aristocracy with which it was
almost identified, would hear of no innovations. The
king was at first inclined to be tolerant. He was a
patron and lover of letters, and of learned men ; and
as the scholastic theologians hated the revivers and cul-
tivators of learning equally with the Lutherans, and
confounded both under the same name, Francis re-
sisted both the parliament and the Sorbonne, and
rescued more than one victim from their hands. While
1528. PROTESTANTS PERSECUTED. 229
he was prisoner in Spain, however, the pope took an
opportunity of sending two vicars of the Holy See to
pursue heretics ; and a certain Le Clerc, the first martyr
of reform in France, was burnt at Metz in 1525. Bri-
connet, bishop of Meaux, was at the same time attacked
by the parliament as a favourer of heresy. He had
attracted to his diocese the men of his time most cele-
brated for learning. This was enough to stamp the
bishop and those whom he protected as heretics. They
were obliged to fly, the celebrated Henry Etienne, or
Stephanus, was one of them, and the good bishop him-
self never could wipe off the stigma. Margaret, the
king's sister, duchess of Alencon, was early imbued with
the principles of the reformers. She afterwards became
queen of Navarre by her marriage with Henry d'Albret,
and it was thus that her descendant Henry IV. was bred
a protestant. Her influence with the king, whom she
tended in his captivity, preserved the clemency of his
disposition, and even was said to have rendered him
not disinclined to the reformation. Zuinglius, relying
on the general opinion, dedicated one of his works to
the French monarch ; and Francis for a long time de-
fended both Erasmus and his friend Berquin from the
persecuting Beda, the syndic of the Sorbonne.
The magnanimity and tolerance of Francis abandoned
him with his good fortune. The year 1528, in which
he despaired of recovering Italy or the advantages lost
by the defeat of Pavia, wrought a sensible change in his
conduct. He became despondent and careless in poli-
tical matters, cruel and morose in temper, more licen-
tious, if possible, in his morals, and at the same time
ostensibly far more devout and more attentive to the
mere offices of religion. He erected images of the
Virgin; allowed poor Berquin, whom he had formerly
defended, to be burned ; and, notwithstanding the efforts
of his sister, who herself was not secure from accusa-
tions, he let loose on his people the bloodhounds of per-
secution.
Francis, in these alternate moods of tolerance and
Q 3
230 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1530r
intolerance, acted chiefly according to his humour.
Charles never lost sight of policy. The reformation
had originated in his dominions ; and its adherents had
taken advantage of his absence and his occupation in
wars to proceed in its establishment. He now turned
his whole attention to the extinction of heresy, not only
to please the pope, who had of late become his ally, but
to strengthen his own authority. The empire, too, being
elective, it was obvious that, should a majority of princes
become protestants, the house of Austria would neces-
sarily be excluded. Charles showed himself at first
lenient. He tried fair means ; those failed, and recourse
was had to severity. The protestant doctrines were
condemned. The princes professing them formed a
league in consequence, called the League of Smalkalde.
The emperor was obliged to temporise, and have re-
course to tolerance again, hoping to effect by means of
a general council what his imperial authority dared not
risk.
The league of Smalkalde naturally sought the alliance
of Francis. The French monarch, though unprepared
as yet for war, did not refuse clandestine support to that
powerful knot of protestants. In order to satisfy the
pope and his conscience for thus making the interests of
the faith stoop to those of policy, he covered the sin by
burning a more than ordinary number of heretics in
Paris. He was amazed and angered to find that, in-
stead of quenching reform, he had by these means
multiplied and emboldened its adherents. When the
passions are excited, a near or frequent view of death
brings about a contempt rather than a fear of that ine-
vitable catastrophe. Execution or slaughter in the mass
will always create an indifference to the worst, amount-
ing to heroism. Mingle with this the leaven of religious
enthusiasm, the pride of suffering for conscience-sake,
the strong hope of eternal life and heavenly recompense,
and you place at once man and his faith above the power
of despot or inquisitor. From this very fact of our
mental organisation we may argue, that religious opi-
1530. LITERATURE PATRONISED. 231
nions are uncontrollable. But centuries were to elapse
ere rulers could learn the expediency of toleration.
Amidst all these faults Francis gave marks about this
time of that love and patronage of letters which forms
the redeeming trait of his character. He established
the Royal or Trilingual College, as Marot calls it, from
the three endowed professorships of Hebrew, Greek, and
Latin. To found this institution was less difficult and
praiseworthy than to defend it, which Francis did against
the envy of the university and of the Sorbonne, whose bigots
looked upon the knowledge of Greek as a crime ; upon
that of Hebrew as a heresy worthy of the stake. It was
in dread of their persecution that Erasmus refused all
the invitations and proffers of the king to settle in
France. The latter was obliged to be contented with
Budseus as his chief counsellor and friend in these
matters.
The same epoch is marked by several improvements
in the administration of justice, and by an attempt of
Francis to remodel his army after the fashion of the
ancients. He ordered the formation of seven legions,
one to be raised in each of the great provinces of the
kingdom, each legion to consist of 6000 men. But
bodies of such unwieldy size were afterwards found
unmanageable, and fell into disuse.
A lasting peace between such rivals as Charles and
Francis was not to be expected. Even if the latter
could have confined himself to the pursuit of pleasure,
to the internal regulation of his kingdom, to the pa-
tronage of the arts and letters, for which, after the peace
of Cambray, he manifested great regard ; the spirit of
Charles, ever restless in the cabinet, could not fail to
have provoked him. At one time the emperor sent him
a summons, requiring his aid against the Turks, and
ending with the accusation that he had called Solyman
to invade Europe. Francis was now on the closest
terms of alliance with Henry VIII., who was bent on
divorcing the emperor's aunt. The French king used
all his influence with the pope to procure the necessary
Q 4
HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1533.
license for Henry, but was still baffled by the influence
of Charles. Clement VII. was the potentate whose
alliance was most warmly disputed by the rival sove-
reigns. And both assailed the pontiff on a pontiff's
weak side, by the offer of aggrandisement to his family.
Charles proposed that Clement's niece, Catherine de'
Medici should espouse Francis Sforza, duke of Milan;
by which means the Medici would necessarily be ever
adverse to the claims of the French kings on Milan.
Francis, in opposition, offered his second son, Henry,
duke of Orleans, as a husband , for Catherine ; and
Clement, elated by the honour of an alliance with the
royal house of France, exulted at the proposal. The
emperor, who knew the proud character of Francis,
could not believe that he would sincerely permit his son
to ally with such upstarts as the Medici ; and this
incredulity neutralised the exertions that he might other-
wise have made to obstruct the match. It took place,
however, at Marseilles, where Clement and Francis
met to honour the ceremonial, and to arrange the con-
ditions of their future friendship. One of these, there
is no doubt, was the vigorous prosecution and extirpa-
tion of heresy. Francis, however, reaped as usual little
advantage from the negotiation. He failed to obtain
for Henry VIII. the dispensation required, and that
impatient monarch broke with the church in conse-
quence. Clement himself died in the year following,
and was succeeded by Paul III. of the house of Farnese.
An event soon after occurred, which was calculated
to rouse all the indignation of Francis. He had of
course no envoy at the petty court of Sforza, duke of
Milan, on whom he could scarcely look with aught save
a jealous eye. A man of fortune, named Merveille, set-
tled at Milan, where his uncle was chancellor, aspired
to the diplomatic dignity of ambassador of France.
His uncle, the Milanese chancellor, was equally anxious
on this point, and is said to have asked it as a boon of
the French king. It was granted. In that age of
intrigue Francis could not refuse to have an agent who
1533. FRANCIS PREPARES FOR WAR. 233
might prove useful at the court of Milan. The cha-
racter of ambassador was to be kept a secret ; but Mer-
veille, a vain man, betrayed it in every way, and made
the most ostentatious display. It came to the ears of
the emperor, who instantly fulminated menaces against
his creature, Sforza. The latter endeavoured to excul-
pate himself. Charles was too well informed, and per-
sisted in his resentment. The duke then determined to
satisfy him. Merveille had had a quarrel with a Mi-
lanese nobleman, who was now urged to attack the
ambassador and his suite. The nobleman was killed ;
but, in return, Merveille was seized, imprisoned, and
without further trial or delay, decapitated. This it may
be supposed fully satisfied Charles. Francis felt the
full atrocity of the insult. He wrote instantly to all
the powers of Europe, and to the emperor. The latter
replied by marrying his niece, the princess of Denmark,
to Sforza, as if in reward for his zeal.
The French king from this moment determined upon
war. He busied himself in raising money, and in levy-
ing and exercising troops. He forebore, however, to
commence the attack, while the emperor was engaged
in his expedition against the infidels on the coast of
Africa. It may be perceived that these rival monarchs
were the first who paid attention to the public mind in
Europe, the first who propitiated popular opinion, at that
time a novel means of support, and stood in awe of its
hostility. Charles departed on this distant expedition
immediately after the insult offered to Francis in the
affair of Merveille. By the enterprise the former hoped
to raise his character with the Christian community ;
and should Francis, obeying his resentment, make an
attack whilst he was absent, there was the reproach at
hand, that the French king was always in league with
the infidel, and armed in his support. Francis, how-
ever, at this crisis fought Charles in the emperor's own
politic manner. He himself remained quiet, but by in-
trigue and the aid of money he enabled the duke of
Wirtemburg to recover his duchy from Charles's bro-
234 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1534.
ther, the king of the Romans. The duke belonged to
the protestant league, and thus the imperial party was
doubly weakened in Germany.
" It was the fate of Francis," says a catholic writer,
" to befriend the enemies of his religion." He now
aided the Genoese in throwing off the yoke of the duke
of Savoy, his uncle, another friend and relative, whom
Francis had contrived to alienate from him. And it
was the freedom of Geneva that spread far and wide
through France the principles of reform. Those prin-
ciples or tenets had hitherto been confined in that king-
dom to men of letters, whose studies and consequent
exercise of reason at once unveiled the absurdities of
Rome, and to personages of influence, whose taste led
them to patronise learning. Thus Meaux under its
enlightened bishop, was truly considered a nest of he-
resy. Thus Stephanus, Ramus, and Marot were pro-
testants, as were also the ladies of the court, who, from
their sex, had more opportunities than men had of
knowing the hypocrisy and corruption of the prelates
of the church. The queen of Navarre, the king's sister,
Renee, duchess of Ferrara, his sister-in-law, even the
duchess d'Etampes, his mistress, were all openly de-
clared for tolerance, and secretly inclined to the Reform-
ation. When Marot, almost the first of French poets,
was obliged to quit France for his religious opinions, he
took refuge at Ferrara with the duchess. At the same
time, a young deacon, whose name Cauvin was ren-
dered in Latin Calvinus, though a native of Noyon in
Picardy, protected as well as Marot by the queen of
Navarre, sought the same place of safety.
Men of letters and courtly dames, however, personages
naturally tranquil, if not timid, were very unfit propa-
gators of a new religion ; although, perhaps, if ideas of
reform had taken birth in this class of society only, and
thus gradually spread lower, their aim might have been
effected more gradually indeed, but far more generally.
In Germany, however, owing to the state of society and
government there, as well as to the character of Luther,
1534. CRUELTY OF FRANCIS. 235
the appeal was at once made to the popular mind. The
class of the burgesses was in that country most numerous
and uncontrolled. The emperor was absent. Autho-
rity was divided among many princes, some wise and
patient enough to hear reason, others grasping at a pre-
text for independence, none chained down by policy, as
Francis was, to a fixed line of orthodoxy. The people
were there at liberty to listen ; and the antipapal doc-
trines spread with a rapidity that nothing could check.
In France, on the contrary, there was no Luther, nor
any scope for a Luther. Reform lurked, like a treason-
able secret, among a few trembling conspirators. The
difference of language prevented the spreading of the
popular flame across the Rhine. And if in a few cases
an individual or two brought, or caught, or attempted to
spread the contagion, the crime was instantly expiated
and silenced at the stake. As soon, however, as a town,
in which the French language was spoken, and which
was situated beyond French authority, became free, as
was the case with Geneva, a foyer, as the French say,
or a hearth, was found, where the fire might be freely
lit and kept burning, so as to send sparks and spread
combustion throughout the whole of the neighbouring
kingdom.
On a certain morning in October, 1534, placards ap-
peared, abusive of the mass and of the clergy. The
eucharist itself was scouted ; a fact which marks the
opinions as coming from Switzerland, where Zuinglian
tenets prevailed. These placards were affixed to the
gates of the castle of Blois, where the king was. In a
rage he departed for Paris. Similar placards imme-
diately appeared on the pillars of the Louvre. The
insult awoke all the monarch's zeal : he ordered a solemn
procession, in which he appeared in person. He him-
self declared in public, that he would cut off his own
arm, or slay his very son, could he suspect either to be
infected with heresy ; and he concluded the religious
ceremony by burning six heretics, after a new and more
cruel fashion than ordinary. On an erect pole another
236 H1STORV OF FRANCE. 1531.
was transversely balanced. To one end the unfortunate
heretic was tied, and a fire lighted under him, into
which and out of which he was alternately dipped and
raised, that his torments might be sufficiently acute
and prolonged.*
Francis, however, was more hurt in his dignity than in
his religious faith, by the insult that had been offered.
He had been early warned of the popular and democratic
nature of reform, and he hence took a special dislike to
the Zuinglian or Swiss reformers. About the very time
that the solemn processions and burnings took place in
Paris, Francis was inviting Melancthon to that capital,
in order to devise some reconciliation between the con-
tending parties. No doubt this was partly to conciliate
the protestant league, on whose alliance Francis de-
pended. But from the letter, which the king himself
wrote to Melancthon so late as June, 1 535, it is evident
that his opposition to reform was moderate and en-
lightened ; and that when he persecuted, it was more
from heat and haste of temper than from settled bi-
gotry.
Whatever were the motives or principles of Francis,
he forwarded the cause of reform in France by aiding
Geneva to throw off the yoke of Savoy, certainly more
than he could check it by edicts or condemnations. Ge-
neva gained its liberty about 1534. No sooner was it
independent than the city renounced its allegiance to
Rome. Farel became its minister of religion ; and he
appointed Calvin as his coadjutor. A squabble about
the communion having disturbed that solemn ceremony
at Easter, both ministers were banished from the town.
But Calvin, who was equally eloquent with tongue and
with pen, was the very person needed by a rising sect
as a defender and a guide. He had courage, zeal, and
learning. Educated at one time for the church, and at
a later period for the law, he united the information re-
quisite for both professions. He had travelled, and seen
* Francis issued a decree at this time, condemning those who concealed
heretics as themselves guilty of heresy, and promising one fourth of the
confiscated property of heretics to the informer.
15J1. CALVIN RECALLED TO GENEVA. 237
two courts ; had been the friend of the queen of Xa-
varre and of the duchess of Ferrara; and was much
more fitted than Luther to be the effective preacher of
a new doctrine to civilised France. He was soon re-
called to Geneva, where he succeeded in establishing
that form of religion which bears his name, and which
soon spread from thence over the greater part of his
native kingdom.
The enmity of the duke of Savoy proved a serious
obstacle to Francis. He could no longer penetrate to
Milan, without subduing that duchy. In the summer
of 1525, the admiral, de Brion, attacked Savoy, and
took several towns, while the duke in vain summoned
the emperor to his assistance. When the French, how-
ever, had reached the summit of the Alpine ridge, tidings
were brought of the death of Francis Sforza. The king
was thus left without an object of vengeance. His rights
to Milan revived also : he had waved them but in fa-
vour of Sforza, who had recently died without offspring.
Francis, indeed, did not claim the duchy for himself,
but for his second son, who, by his mother Claude, was
descended from Louis XII. and Valentine Visconti.
He hoped by putting forward his second son, rather
than the dauphin, to remove all jealousy in the Italians,
who would dislike to see Milan attached to the dominion
of France.
An ambassador was sent to the emperor, claiming the
investiture of Milan for Henry duke of Orleans. That
prince, without an idea of granting the request, hesitated
to refuse it altogether ; and, practising the subterfuges,
the forms, and delays of the papal court, wasted months
in negotiating, whilst he was all the time arming and
making preparations of a hostile character. Francis,
on his side, pushed the war in Piedmont, took Turin,
and encamped before Vercelli, hesitating to break openly
with the emperor, or invade his dominions. Charles
was in the mean time cajoling the French ambassadors,
and leading them to hope for the grant of Milan to the
duke of Orleans. In expectation of this they attended
238 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1535.
him from Naples to Rome. There in full consistory,
not only before the pope and cardinals, but in the
presence of the public he would allow no one to be
excluded the emperor at once threw off dissimulation,
and burst forth in furious reproaches against the French
king. He recapitulated the whole history of their dif-
ferences, his victory, their treaties, the bad faith of
Francis, and his tacit enmity ever since he had been
guilty of it. With little consistency, he at one moment
admitted the possibility of his granting Milan to the
duke of Angouleme, third son of the king ; at the next
he gave full vent to hig choler, and proposed to fight
Francis in single combat, in a boat, or on a bridge, with
poniards, in their shirts, offering, at the same time,
to stake the duchy of Milan against that of Burgundy on
the issue. Not content with this, Charles descended to
the meanest and most puerile scolding : " Had I soldiers
and generals such as his, I would go with my hands tied,
and a rope round my neck, to ask mercy of my anta-
gonist." Thus, for the second time, did Charles show
that the most politic and strictly controlled temper is apt
to fall into the grossest extremes of indecorum and vio-
lence when passion is allowed to overpower habitual
reserve.
The ambassadors of France and the ministers of
Charles himself were alike astonished at this unexpected
gust of reproach. The latter endeavoured to soften and
excuse it ; as did Charles himself during a subsequent
interview : and the account of it must have been also
much softened to Francis, for that prince showed no
susceptibility or passion, but replied with coolness and
moderation. The negotiations were continued, notwith-
standing a scene so well calculated to put a stop to them,
but, as may be supposed, they proved ineffectual.
The causes of the previous dissimulation and sudden
arrogance of Charles now became manifest. The army
of De Leyva, that had hitherto been inferior to the
French, was, during these delays, augmented by rein-
forcements to 50,000 men. The admiral was obliged
1536. CHARLES INVADES FRANCE. 239
to retire before it. Charles was puffed up with pride,
and certain of success. He determined on invading
France, which he had vague hopes of conquering. As
to Provence, at which he immediately aimed, he already
looked upon that part of the kingdom as his.
At the same time, Charles exerted himself with his
usual activity to blacken his rival in public opinion. In
Italy he accused him as the enemy of the church ; in
Germany he aggravated his burning of protestants, and
with such success, that Francis could not raise a single
lansquenet in that country. Switzerland, now in a great
measure protestant, was no longer to be regarded as a
school of mercenary soldiers ; and the French king,
though he congratulated himself on his own foresight in
the establishment of national legions, had as yet but
little confidence in this untried infantry.
Francis therefore repressed his own natural impe-
tuosity, and determined not to hazard a battle. Pied-
mont was evacuated, except Turin and a few towns
intrusted to the marquis of Saluces. He may be enu-
merated among the early friends of the king, who now
proved faithless to him. In this instance historians do
not discover the cause in the conduct of Francis : the
marquis, a believer in astrology, had reason to conclude
from the stars that the fortunes of France were on the
decline. He therefore deserted to the emperor, and be-
trayed, as far as lay in his power, the trust reposed in
him. Annebaut, however, still defended Turin. Con-
trary to the advice of his ablest generals, Charles resolved
to pursue his conquests and march into France. Even
the veteran De Leyva flung himself from the chair, to
which the gout confined him, and fell at the feet of his
sovereign to dissuade him ; but in vain. That monarch
was, in his own imagination, an emperor of ancient
Rome, and, like the original Caesar, marched to subdue
Gaul. In order to preserve the analogy, he drew up his
troops on passing the Alps, and harangued them after
the forms exemplified in the Latin historians.
Montmorency was intrusted by Francis with the de-
240 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1.")"iG.
fence of Provence. That noble soldier, who had hitherto
given ample proofs of valour, now resolved to act the
part of Fabius. He formed a strong camp below Avig-
non, at the confluence of the Rhine and the Durance.
He ordered all the open country to be laid waste, and
the smaller towns to be dismantled; Avignon itself,
Aries, and Marseilles, being the only places garrisoned
and defended. This order was executed most mercilessly ;
and the towns which resisted the general's orders of de-
vastation were stormed by their own troops and destroyed.
Even Aix, the capital of Provence, was not spared. The
emperor proceeded through the desolate country, harassed
by the peasantry, but unable to meet with the army of
his enemy. He advanced to Marseilles and to Aries,
and showed an inclination to besiege those towns. But
he was repulsed from Marseilles ; and his rear-guard,
commanded by the duke of Alva, was severely handled.
At Aries he had no better success.
Francis was in the mean time at Valence with a part
of his forces. Bad tidings were arriving day after day
from the north. The town of Guise had been taken.
The imperialists were making progress on the deserted
frontier. A family disaster occurred about the same
time to oppress Francis. His eldest son, the dauphin,
died, having taken a draught of cold water when heated
with a game at ball : poison, however, was loudly
declared to be the cause ; even the emperor was accused
of a crime that could bring him no advantage. Cathe-
rine de' Medici, wife of the king's second son, who now
became dauphin, was also accused, with more plausibility,
but on no stronger proof.
The success of Montmoreucy's plan of defence, and
the retreat of the emperor, brought consolation to
Francis. The duke of Orleans, now dauphin, begged
permission to repair to the camp at Avignon. When
he arrived there, it required all JVfontmorency's firmness
to prevent the French youth with the prince at their
head from sallying out to give battle to Charles. Francis
himself came to Avignon some time afterwards. Charles
1537- FRANCIS CLAIMS FLANDERS AND ARTOIS. 241
was then in full rout, retreating along the shores of the
Mediterranean, his way strewn with dead bodies (for
pestilence had begun to thin his ranks), and also with
horses, arms, baggage, and all the wreck of a ruined
army. Francis could not take advantage of his enemy's
discomfiture. He was recalled to the north by the
danger of Peronne, then besieged by the count of
Nassau, and defended by De la Mark, mareschal de
Fleuranges. The valour of the mareschal obliged the
enemy to raise the siege ; but this gallant knight and
soldier did not long survive : he died, leaving behind
him those chivalric memoirs of the reign of Francis
which bear his name. The emperor in the mean time
continued his retreat : he had lost the better part of his
army, and De Leyva himself amongst other generals.
Charles instantly embarked for Spain to conceal his mor-
tification from the Italians, who had so lately witnessed
his arrogance and heard his bravadoes.
Francis had not replied to the insolence and vituper-
ation of the emperor. The defence he made was indeed
the best answer. The next campaign, 1537, was
opened or preceded by a scene correspondent to the
public invective of Charles in the Roman consistory.
The French king held a bed of justice, or solemn sitting
of parliament, in which his advocate, allowing the ces-
sion that Francis had made of his suzerainty over
Flanders and Artois, argued and declared that such ces-
sion was nuU ; that the monarch had not the power to
forego the rights of his crown, and that Charles was in
consequence the vassal of the king of France for those
provinces. This being established to the satisfaction of
the court, Charles, as a refractory and disobedient vassal,
was summoned to appear and answer for his conduct ;
and on his non-appearance, Flanders and Artois wtie
declared forfeited to the crown, an empty mimicry of
the forms by which in a ruder age Philip Augustus
thought fit to sanction those acquisitions, made by the
sword.
Francis attempted to follow this part of the example
242 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1537-
also, and marched into Flanders, as if to fulfil the decree
of his court. He at first met with some success, and
afterwards, by a blunder of his own in impatiently
raising his camp, lost the advantage. His enemies laid
siege to Therouenne. Montmorency and the dauphin
were marching to its relief, when the queen-dowager of
Hungary, sister of the emperor and regent of the Ne-
therlands, proposed a truce. It was concluded in July,
but was confined to the northern frontiers of France.
In Piedmont the interests of the king were forgotten in
the dissensions of the Italian generals, whom he found it
necessary to employ. One of these having been assailed
by a libel of the notorious Aretino, attributed it to the
malignity of the other ; a challenge and dire feuds were
the consequence. The marquis of Saluces met the fate
he merited for his treachery. He was slain by a shot
from a window of the castle of Carmagnola. The way
in which his death was avenged is characteristic of the
marquis del Guasto, the Spanish general. When the
gallant garrison of Carmagnola surrendered, the marquis
expressed the greatest admiration for their valour, espe-
cially he added for those who defended a certain win-
dow. " For my part," exclaimed a soldier, " I was
there, and fired many a shot." Del Guasto ordered
him instantly to be hanged up to the window. Those
Italian wars altogether corrupted the high honour and
generosity of the ancient Spanish character. The Ita-
lians themselves, in consequence of their unfixed and
divided rule, their ever-changing allegiance, and the
petty warfare of intrigue, incessant amongst them, had
deteriorated in character ; and the Spaniards adopting
the lax morals and contempt of honour which they here
found, and which their command of mercenary troops,
as well as their own subjection and service to an astute
and politic sovereign increased, compounded their own
pride with other bad qualities, and formed a character
as depraved as history can well paint. When in course
of time 1C imbibed the zeal of religious persecutions, i
became truly demoniacal. Pescara and Del Guasto
1538. MEETING OF FRANCIS AXD CHARLES. 243
united perfidy with cruelty, but in both respects the
name of Alva was destined soon to eclipse theirs.
During the following year the truce was extended to
Piedmont, each party guarding what they held. Charles,
in addition to his ill success, his total want of funds,
and the rapid progress of the reformation among the
German states, while war prevented the emperor from
checking or interfering with them, was induced to
treat by the alliance which Francis had newly formed
with the Turks. Those barbarians, flushed with recent
conquest, were the terror of eastern Europe ; and Hun-
gary was already in their power. In these circumstances
the pope undertook to mediate a peace. Both sovereigns
joined the pontiff at Nice. They refused to see each
other, and it was found impossible to fix the terms of a
treaty ; but a truce for ten years was proclaimed in July,
1538. Charles, while at Nice, was so full of suspicions,
that he lodged on board his galley. He now sailed in
it for Barcelona, but being driven by the wind upon the
coast of Provence, he sent a messenger to Francis, de-
siring an interview. A little reflection had calmed his
resentment and removed his mistrust ; and it is pro-
bable that Charles already began to meditate that passage
through France, which he soon afterwards made. A
personal interview with Francis could best inform him
as to the prudence of such a step. The French king
hastened at Charles's invitation to meet and to welcome
him. The monarchs met at Aigues Mortes, visited
each other, forgot their mutual quarrels, insults, chal-
lenges, and hate. Francis even consented to receive
Andrew Doria, and the good nature of the monarch
showed itself when he said, " Here we are united,
my brother the emperor and' I. We must henceforth
have the same friends and the same enemies ; we must
equip together a naval armament against the Turks, and
you, Doria, shall have the command."
On his return to Compiegne, Francis was taken dan-
gerously ill, of the same malady, it is said, which after-
wards occasioned his death. He gradually recovered,
R 2
244 . HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1541.
however, from this attack. Early in 1539, the people
of Ghent applied to him, offering to become his subjects.
Those turbulent citizens were meditating a revolt
against the emperor. They complained of certain war-
taxes, that had nevertheless been voted by their repre-
sentatives in the states of Flanders, refused to pay them,
and defied the emperor's authority. Francis, it might
be thought, would have eagerly embraced such an op-
portunity to annoy his rival. Peace, however, had been
just concluded, and Charles had evidently made many
fair promises at Aigues Mortes ; besides, the chivalric
Francis detested the burgesses, as a class of whose turbu-
lence and fickleness he had full experience in the Ge-
noese. In lieu, therefore, of encouraging the malcon-
tents, he at once conveyed intelligence of their intrigue
to the emperor.
That prince, anxious to crush the rebellion at Ghent
ere it spread or gathered force, was perplexed how
to get thither, an embarrassment which strongly demon-
strates the absurdity of scattered dominion. If he
went by sea, he feared the ports of England and of
Flanders, both hostile. By land, through his own do-
minions, the protestant states of Germany, equally
unfriendly to him, were to be traversed. Through
France lay the shortest path ; and Charles, on receiving
the amicable warning of Francis, no longer hesitated.
Resorting to his usual bait, he sent to promise the in-
vestiture of Milan to the king's second son, and at the
same time asked permission to pass through France : it
was of course granted. The two princes and Montmo-
rency met the emperor at Bayonne. Francis himself
advanced as far as Chatelherault in Poitou to receive
him, and magnificent festivals celebrated their entry
into each town : that given at Paris excelled every thing
of the kind in splendour. The prisoners were every
where liberated at the emperor's approach. In the
midst of all this gaiety, the mind of Charles was ill at
ease. Francis was counselled by many to retain the
emperor till he fulfilled his promise of granting Milan ;
15-1-1. CHARLES'S CONDUCT AT GHENT. 245
at least till that promise was solemnly renewed in
writing. But Francis scorned to take so base an ad-
vantage, and Montmorency was firm in the same honour-
able opinion. The latter was now constable of the
kingdom, and possessed the chief influence with the
king. A soldier of high honour himself, he coincided
with his master in placing implicit reliance on the
emperor's word.
" Do you see that fair lady?" said Francis, pointing
out to Charles the duchess d'Etampes : " she advises
me not to let you depart from Paris until you have
revoked the treaty of Math-id." The emperor was at
first disconcerted, but rallied, and replied coolly, " If
the advice is good, it should be followed." Charles, ne-
vertheless, contrived, on the following day, to let fall a
diamond ring at the feet of the duchess; and when she
picked it up, and proffered it to him, he obliged her to
retain it.
Triboulet, the court fool of Francis, set down Charles
on his tablets as one of his own class, for risking to
pass through France. "But if I let him pass?" observed
Francis. " Then," said Triboulet, " I will rub out his
name, and write yours in its place, as the most egregious
fool of any."
Francis acted the noble part, and refrained from press-
ing for the Milanese till Charles had reached his own
frontier ; and then the affair of Ghent was so pressing,
that the emperor had time to think of no other. Mont-
morency was obliged to return with this excuse. Charles
reaped all the benefit he could expect from his speedy
movements. The people of Ghent were terrified, and
submitted. It was supposed that he would spare his
native city. He entered it, however, and on his very
birthday, with no feelings of clemency : twenty-six of
the ringleaders were put to death. All the ancient pri-
vileges and rights of Ghent were abrogated, and a fort-
ress was raised to keep the town in subjection. So much
had municipal and kingly power changed their relative
situations in little more than a century.
B 3
246 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1542.
No sooner was this triumph gained, than Charles threw
off the mask, and not only refused to keep his promise
as to the Milanese with Francis, but denied that he had
ever made it. He even endeavoured to take a base
advantage of the friendly and cordial reception given to
him by that monarch. Venice had been, of all the
powers of Italy, the staunch friend of France. The mar-
quis del Guasto now represented to the Venetians the
firm alliance between Charles and Francis, and accord-
ingly pressed them to join the emperor against the
Turks. But the wary Venetians put no faith in the re-
conciliation of the two monarchs, and were deaf to all
the proffers of del Guasto. In order to counteract this
intrigue, Francis despatched as ambassadors Fregose and
Rincon, the former to Venice, the latter to Constantino-
ple ; to explain to both courts, that although the emperor
had visited Paris, yet so far was this from being a sign
of strict alliance, that it had rather, through the bad
faith of Charles, produced a contrary effect. Del Guasto
resolved to intercept those ambassadors, hoping to dis-
cover all the views of Francis in their despatches : lie
expected also to find, in that addressed to the sultan, a
document which, if published, would disgrace Francis
in the eyes of Christian Europe. The ambassadors were
accordingly waylaid, by order of del Guasto, as they de-
scended the Po in a bark, and murdered.
When Francis exclaimed against this fresh outrage,
the emperor justified del Guasto for the deed. The
former could find no retribution but in declaring war,
which accordingly ensued in 1542. Before entering
upon its details, let us cast a glance at the intrigues and
revolutions of the court. The dauphin Henry, not con-
tent with his wife, Catherine de' Medici, had followed
his father's example, in selecting and supporting a mis-
tress. Catherine was young, accomplished, and not un-
lovely. Henry preferred a lady (Diana of Poictiers) old
enough to be his mother. Great rivalry arose between
the king's mistress and the prince's mistress, an exem-
plary and edifying emulation ! The duchess d'Etampes
1542. DISGRACE OP THE ADMIRAL. 247
sliglitingly observed, that she was only born on the day
that Diana was married; and the insult was not forgiven.
The former felt that at the death of Francis she must
suffer the resentment of his successor. She therefore
sought to create a friend and supporter in the duke of Or-
leans, next brother to the king ; and she intrigued and
corresponded with the emperor, to procure for him an
independent appanage either in Milan or in the Low
Countries.
These intrigues of the duchess d'Etampes, but par-
tially known to history, were no doubt one of the causes
of the tergiversation of the emperor respecting the so
much debated investiture. The court was thus broken
into two parties; the king, his mistress, De Brion, and
others, on one side; the dauphin, with Diana, supported
by the constable Montmorency, on the other. Just be-
fore the war broke out, Montmorency fell into disgrace,
through the play of this intrigue. Historians have attri-
buted that misfortune to his advice of letting Charles go
free; but such a reason is improbable and insufficient.
He was exiled to Chantilly; a palace of which the
princely splendour has been attested by lord Herbert of
Cherbury.
The temper of Francis became much soured at this
time. He was worn down by a malady, under which he
pined without hopes of cure; and in his treatment of
friends, as well as of religious dissidents, he approached
somewhat to the savage disposition of Henry VIII. Not
only Montmorency was now disgraced, but Chabot, ad-
miral de Brion, an especial favourite, and the friend of
the duchess d'Etampes, was imprisoned for a trifling
crime. It seems as if a sense of impartiality actuated
Francis to humble one of each party a friend of either
mistress. Poor De Brion, more sensitive than Montmo-
rency, died under his disgrace, and Francis was afflicted
at his fate. The monarch granted him the vain repar-
ation of a splendid tomb. The vengeance of the duchess
d'Etampes fell upon Poyet the chancellor, who had been
inveterate against De Brion. The king, however, whose
R 4
248 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1542.
conscience smote him for having abstracted cle Brion
from his rightful judges in parliament, and sent him
before a commission, would not suffer the same injustice
to be done to Poyet. He was tried for malversation, and
condemned to five years' imprisonment, and a fine so
considerable, that it stripped him of all his wealth. The
cardinal of Lorraine, brother of Guise, at the same time
lost his credit. Francis seemed to have conceived a dis-
gust against all his old friends. In his present stern and
serious mood he could not tolerate the license and rapa-
city which he had formerly encouraged.
The persons now intrusted by Francis with the man-
agement of his affairs were d'Annebaut, recently created
admiral, and the cardinal de Tournon. Their probity is
unimpeached, but their talents were unfortunately me-
diocre. The war languished in Piedmont. Conquests
in Italy were considered unlucky; and it was resolved to
attack Roussillon in the south and Luxembourg in the
north. Charles, as he had subdued Tunis at the com-
mencement of the last war with France, now led an ex-
pedition against Algiers, either to show his contempt for
the king, or to prove his greater zeal in the cause of
Christianity. It strikes me that both enterprises were
owing to a superstitious desire to earn, by defeating the
infidels, a store of merit and good fortune, to be ex-
pended in the war with France. The expedition, how-
ever, proved unfortunate : Charles lost his fleet, his
artillery, and a great portion of his army. His brother
Ferdinand, king of the Romans, was at the same time
equally unsuccessful against the Turks in Hungary.
Notwithstanding the low state to which the emperor's
affairs were thus reduced, the French arms made little
progress. The dauphin commanded the expedition
against Roussillon. His brother, the duke of Orleans,
supported by the duke de Guise and the count d'En-
ghien, entered the province of Luxembourg, which they
over-ran and conquered. But hearing on a sudden that
a battle was to be fought in the south, the young prince
abandoned the army, and weakened it in his haste to
1542. BURTHENSOME TAXATION. 249
participate in the triumphs of his brother. It was a false
report. The dauphin, instead of vanquishing, was
obliged to raise the siege of Perpignan, and Luxembourg
was reconquered by the imperialists. The brothers, du
Bellay, one of whom wrote the history of these wars,
alone supported the credit of the royal arms in Pied-
mont.
The effects of these great efforts of the king to sustain
the war against so potent an adversary became evident
in the discontents of his people, produced by the pres-
sure of extraordinary taxes. The English reader can-
not have failed to remark how the power of levying taxes
fell into the hands of the sovereign. It was under
Charles VII., the king who reconquered France from the
English, that the taille became perpetual, as a war-tax.
The gabelle, an impost on salt, the aides, a kind of ex-
cise, grew in the same manner to be under the control
of the king, who raised them at pleasure. Francis in-
creased all these taxes to an extent which it is difficult
to ascertain : and this revenue not meeting his expenses,
he borrowed large sums, and sold many of the domains
of the crown. The gabelle, or salt-tax, was, however,
what pressed most heavily on the people j not only by
reason of the dearness of that necessary of life, but
also through the vexations practised by the collectors
and overseers, a tribe ever hateful to the people. The
provinces in which salt was raised had hitherto enjoyed
various advantages : they exported it duty-free to other
countries ; and as the tax was raised on the sale, not on
the production of the commodity, the inhabitants of
those parts could easily secure a store sufficient for their
own consumption without paying the duty. Francis,
however, ordered that the tax should be levied at the
raising or making of the salt. The sufferers were indig-
nant ; and those of llochelle, who considered this an in-
fringement of their privileges, rebelled. Francis did
not lose a moment in marching to put down this insur-
rection ere it gained ground. He appeared with an
army of lansquenets before Rochellej and the town sub-
250 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1545.
mitted. The king was at that time engaged in rivalry
with the emperor Charles, who had drawn down upon
himself the condemnation of Europe by his harsh treat-
ment of the people of Ghent. Francis, therefore, obe-
dient to this policy, as well as to the natural generosity
of his temper, pardoned the insurgents of llochelle.
" Speak no more of revolt,"* said he, to the humbled and
penitent citizens : " forget it, as I do. I see here none
but my children ; in me you behold a father. My rival
may spill the blood of his unfortunate subjects of Ghent:
it is a pleasure worthy of him. My delight, on the con-
trary, is to recover the hearts of my subjects." Here
was one signal benefit produced by the progress of civil-
isation, and the communication of events throughout
Europe. The cruelty, and consequent unpopularity of
one monarch, served as a beacon to warn the other, and
direct him into the path of clemency.
The campaign of 1 543 brought Francis another enemy
and another ally : the enemy was Henry VIII., whose
natural hatred to France rose in proportion as its mo-
narch proved victorious. The two kings had not been
friends since the affair of Catherine's di vorce ; but the
receipt of a pension from France, under the treaty of
1 525, as well as the mortal quarrel between Henry and
the emperor, preserved the former from openly breaking
with Francis. Nevertheless the marriage of James
king of Scotland with a princess of France was felt
sorely by Henry's jealous temper. When this princess
died, James was allowed to espouse another lady of
royal blood, Mary of Lorraine. This was a new griev-
ance. The Tudors, at least Henry VIII. and his
daughter Elizabeth, were peculiarly jealous of any one
who sought the happiness of marriage ; such an event
always caused them a pang. When a rival or an enemy
met with good fortune in a match, their envy was sure
to vent itself in hostility. Henry could not forgive
Francis his alliance with Scotland, and his patronage of
its young king ; and when the pension to England
ceased to be paid, owing to the necessities of the French
THE ENGLISH JOIN THE IMPERIALISTS. 251
monarch, another tie of interest was converted into an
hostile claim. Catherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn
were both dead by this time, and thus were removed the
obstacles to an alliance between Henry and the emperor.
It was concluded. They agreed to announce it to Fran-
cis, by summoning him, in the face of Europe, to give
up his odious alliance with the Turk.
Ten thousand English came to swell the army of the
emperor in Flanders. With these he crushed the duke
of Cleves, who had espoused the side of Francis, and
who was to have received in marriage the hand of
Jeanne d'Albret, heiress of the crown of Navarre.
Francis was either inactive or unfortunate in the support
of his friend : the duke was obliged to make the most
humble submissions. Charles, after this, advanced and
formed the siege of Landrecies, which was stubbornly
defended. Francis approached with an army : he was
no longer anxious to give battle with the impetuosity of
youth ; and, after throwing succours into Landrecies, he
retreated. Charles raised the siege ; but, in return, suc-
ceeded in surprising the more important town of
Cambray.
It will be recollected that the ambassadors despatched
by Francis to Venice and to Constantinople, to explain
the hollowness of his reconciliation with the emperor,
were intercepted, and slain by del Guasto. A messen-
ger was now selected of the most enterprising character,
a man calculated to perform the perilous journey and
accomplish the difficult negotiation.' He was an adven-
turer whom we shall hereafter have occasion to recog-
nise as the baron de la Garde. He reached the court of
Solyman : after enduring much indignity he obtained a
hearing ; exculpated his master ; and induced Solyman
to despatch Barbarossa to the coast of Provence. There
a junction was formed between the French and Turkish
fleets ; and Nice was besieged by them in concert ; but
even that insignificant town they failed to take. Francis
incurred the dishonour of an alliance with the infidels,
252 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1544.
without reaping any advantage. Solyman committed
some vain and not triumphant ravages as he retreated.
The army in Piedmont was now intrusted by Francis
to the young count d'Enghien : he was brother to An-
toine de Bourbon duke de Vendome, afterwards, by his
marriage with Jeanne d'Albret, king of Navarre. The
count was an active commander, and he continued his
operations against del Guasto, the imperialist general,
during the whole winter.
In the spring of 1544, he besieged Carignano. Del
Guasto, aware that the French had orders not to fight,
marched to its relief. The count instantly despatched
Montluc, afterwards mareschal, to court, to obtain the
permission of Francis to offer battle. The council de-
cided against risking it. Montluc, who was present,
showed his impatience at their timidity by all kinds of
contortions. The king was amused, and ordered him to
speak. The Gascon (Montluc was of Gascony) did so,
with a peculiarity of accent and gesture that amused his
hearers, and that did not mar his eloquence : he warmly
recommended a battle; and Francis, caught by an en-
thusiasm once so natural to himself, was won by Mont-
luc's zeal, and, despite the dissuasions of his council, sent
D'Enghien permission to fight. No sooner was this
known than the court became a desert ; every young
lord and courtier set out post to Piedmont to share in
the perils and the glory of the action.
The battle was fought at Cerisoles on the 14th of
April. The imperialists far outnumbered the French ;
but mercenaries composed the greater part of the strength
of either army. All the forenoon was spent in the firing
of the arquebuss, in manoeuvres, and in vain attempts
of either army to turn and take its antagonist in flank.
Neither army wished to advance, as each was appre-
hensive that by so doing its artillery would be in a mea-
sure masked, while itself would be fully exposed to the
guns of the enemy. This evinces the immobility of ar-
tillery in those days, and the little skill with which it
was managed. The French, most impatient of the con-
1544. BATTLE OF CERI SOLES. 253
tending parties, ordered the Swiss of their centre to ad-
vance. They were discouraged by the fire of the
artillery ; and the lansquenets, opposed to them in supe-
rior numbers, repulsed them. To the left of the Swiss
were posted, first the French infantry, and beyond them
light troops, either Italians or men of Gruyere. When
the centre wavered, the count led the French infantry
to its support. The Italians and the men of Gruyere,
thus abandoned, turned and fled. And d'Enghien, on
looking round, seeing himself deserted, and the enemies
advancing in his flank, was in despair. He placed his
sword so that he might fall and die upon it. On re-
flection, he thought it better to perish by the hand of
the enemy : collecting, therefore, an hundred straggling
horse, he charged the lansquenets with that desperation
which the search of death inspires ; when lo ! before his
furious charge, several times repeated, the lansquenets
shrunk, became disordered, and at last fled. The fact
was, that the rest of the French line had been victorious,
and an elevation of the ground had concealed their ad-
vantage from d'Enghien. This success was in a great
manner owing to an order given in the beginning of the
day by del Guasto to the prince of Salerno, to keep
back, and not to engage his Italians, in whom the com-
manders had little confidence. Del Guasto had lost his
presence of mind, and forgot to issue any later order ;
through which neglect a great portion of his army re-
mained inactive. Indeed, the prince of Salerno with-
drew his troops from the field without having struck a
blow. Del Guasto fled early, and displayed a consi-
derable lack of courage, although Paulus Jovius, of
whom he is the hero, represents him as a very Mars.
Del Guasto presents the example of a general, able and
ingenious in planning and conducting a compaign, but
incapable of cool discernment in the heat of action.
Since the day of Marignano, victory had been a stranger
to the French ; and the count D'Enghien reaped a har-
vest of glory by the achievement. Unfortunately the
young prince did not live to fulfil the hopes entertained
254 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1544.
of him. In a year or two afterwards, whilst at la
Roche-Guyon, supporting a mock-siege against the
dauphin and other young men of the court, a box, in-
advertently flung from the window, fell upon him and
caused his death.
Francis was assailed on so many points by so many
and such powerful foes, that he could not take advan-
tage of the victory of Cerisoles. Twelve thousand men
were instantly drawn from the army of d'Enghien, to
reinforce those of the north, and no progress was made
towards Milan. The emperor and Henry VIII. had
agreed, each to lead an army, the one through Cham-
pagne, the other through Picardy, straight to Paris,
without staying to make conquests or form sieges. The
first part of the plan was performed, not the latter.
Charles invested St. Dizier, and Henry besieged Bou-
logne. Had they executed their original intention, they
might have dictated peace to Francis in his capital.
The emperor at length perceived his mistake. He
marched towards the centre of the kingdom, summoning
Henry to do the same. The latter showed no inclin-
ation to second him, and still remained before Boulogne,
of which he made himself master.
The emperor had gained possession of St. Dizier by
artifice ; for he sent a false order under the seal of the
duke of Guise to the commander of the town, ordering
him to surrender. Some historians assert that it was
the duchess d'Etampes that furnished this means of
victory to the emperor, from jealousy to the dauphin.
The king, confined to his chamber by illness, was in
despair at the capture of St. Dizier. " Ah ! my God,"
he exclaimed, " how dearly do you sell me my king-
dom. Get you to church," he continued, addressing
his sister the queen of Navarre, " and there utter for
me my prayer to God, that since it is his will to favour
the emperor, I may at least be spared the grief of seeing
him encamped under the walls of my capital." The
dauphin was charged with the defence of Champagne.
He took the opportunity of beseeching bis father to
1544. TREATY BETWEEN FRANCIS AND CHARLES. 355
pardon Montmorency ; observing, that the defender of
Provence could best defend Champagne. The request
angered, without persuading, the king. The emperor
advanced as far as the Marne, which it was his object to
cross. He succeeded in seizing the magazines of Eper-
nay and Chateau Thierry, owing, it is again asserted,
to information derived from the duchess d'Etampes.
Paris was in alarm. The king rode about, and endea-
voured to re-assure the citizens. " The Lord defend
you from fear, my children," said he; " I will defend
you from the enemy."
The emperor's sudden spirit of enterprise had in the
mean time given way to his usual habits of caution and
delay. Instead of pushing across the Marne, fighting
and advancing upon Paris, he retired in search of pro-
visions. The heart of Charles having failed him, and
the opportunity being at the same time lost, negotiations
were willingly entered into by both monarchs. They
sent a despatch to Henry, then on the point of cap-
turing Boulogne, but he disdainfully refused to join
in an accommodation. Charles and Francis, therefore,
concluded a separate treaty at Crespy, in September,
1544. It chief stipulation was, that the duke of Or-
leans should espouse either the daughter or the niece of
the emperor, who in return should give as a dowry either
the Milanese or the Low Countries. A peace thus ter-
minating to the advantage of the duke of Orleans alone,
plainly denotes the intrigues and interests of the duchess
d'Etampes, who sought, in the lung's second son, a sup-
port against the enmity of the dauphin. The delay,
however, and the loose manner in which the fulfilment of
the terms was secured, showed that the emperor was
not sincere ; and at the same time that the king was not
a dupe. One desired to retire with impunity ; the
other was glad to allow this. The dauphin protested
strongly against this treaty, of which he did not perceive
the hollowness.
Between the English, who held Boulogne, and the
French, the war still continued, Francis, for the first
256 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1 .'> 14.
time, made his greatest efforts on a new element.
Ordering his Mediterranean galleys to join those of
the western ports at Havre, he collected a fleet of 136
ships : the king went with his court to behold it put
to sea, and gave a banquet on board the largest vessel,
one of 800 tons, which accidentally took fire, and was
burned ere it quitted the harbour. Annebaut," who,
as admiral, commanded the fleet, sailed for the Isle
of Wight. The English fleet, amounting to about
sixty sail, came out from Portsmouth to cannonade,
but avoided an action with such a superior force. The
French landed and insulted the English, in order to
provoke them to come out ; but failing in this purpose,
the fleet sailed back to its own shores. By land they
endeavoured to retake Boulogne, but with no better
success. In one of the skirmishes near this town, the
comte d'Aumale was struck in the face with a javelin,
the whole head of which entered between his mouth
and nose. His recovery appeared a miracle to the chi-
rurgeons of that day. His son, afterwards duke of
Guise, was signalised with the appellation of Lc Balafre,
for a far more trifling scar. Peace was the result of
this campaign. Francis agreed to continue to Henry
the usual yearly tribute, and an additional sum was to
be paid for Boulogne, which was to be restored to the
French after the lapse of eight years.
The opinions of the reformers in the mean time,
though they made progress in France, were not openly
avowed. Francis was a popular prince : his clemency
at Rochelle, joined to his general character and personal
qualities, made him beloved ; and the strong feeling of
loyalty, which in Germany promoted religion, in France
kept the people from dissenting openly from the faith
of the monarch. A few heretics were burned from time
to time to grace a festival, or display the zeal of the mo-
narch ; but wholesale persecution was as yet unknown.
Unfortunately the reign of Francis was at this period
stained w T ith the blood of a whole province, wantonly and
unjustly spilled. The reader cannot have forgotten the
1515. PERSECUTION OP THE VAUDOIS. 257
crusades against the Albigenses, those primitive reformers
of the thirteenth century. Great as had been the
slaughter, they were not all extinct ; and, under the name
of Vaudois, the sect subsisted from that day chiefly in
the provinces eastward of the Rhone, where the per-
secution had been little felt. Forgotten by the inquisitors
of the church, that simple people had preserved in their
remote valleys their original hatred of Rome, and denial
of its most absurd doctrines. They now learned with
delight, that a large portion of Europe had awakened to
opinions somewhat similar. They enquired for guides,
or else missionaries sought them out. Farel visited them
from Geneva : they conceded, in deference to his preach-
ing, whatever little differences existed between their pri-
mitive belief and the modern ideas of reform, and thus
became united to the great body of protestantism.
This communication and religious alliance with fo-
reigners awakened the zeal of the parliament of Aix,
the capital of Provence. That tribunal, in consequence,
condemned the leaders to be burned, the population to
be banished, and the town of Merindol, their principal
hold, to be destroyed. This decree of the year 1540
was not put into effect. The learned Sadolet, who had
a diocese in the neighbourhood, and Dubellay, interfered
with Francis and stayed the execution. Five years
elapsed, and the cardinal de Tournon was in power, a
narrow-minded bigot : he pressed the king to, what he
considered, the pious and politic act of rooting out
heresy ; and Francis, in a moment of zeal, despatched
the order. The parliament of Aix were not tardy in
fulfilling it. The president, the baron d'Oppede, him-
self undertook to direct the massacre. The baron de
la Garde, the adventurer so successful in his mission to
Constantinople, commanded the troops chosen to execute
d'Oppede's bidding. They marched to the banks of
the Durance, and the work of devastation began ; the
villages were every where set on fire, and the flying po-
pulation massacred. Merindol was destroyed. Cahrieres
made some resistance : but those who combated and
258 HISTORY OF FHANCK. 151-7.
those who yielded met with the same inexorable fate.
After the conquest, d'Oppede and his assistant set about
murdering the captives. They varied the monotony of
their horrid task by strangling some, and shutting up
others in barns, which were set fire to and burned.
AFomen were not more spared than men. With forks
and halberds ah 1 were thrust back into the flames who
attempted to escape. Three hundred were hanged, and
about twice that number spared to man the galleys.
Attempts were made to awaken Francis to a sense of
these atrocities, but in vain. The conduct of d'Oppede
was approved. De Thou indeed says, that Francis,
tormented on his death-bed by the recollection, recom-
mended his successor to examine into the conduct of
the president, and de la Garde. It was the subject of
a prolonged enquiry in the subsequent reign ; but a short
imprisonment was the only castigation inflicted on the
perpetrators.
About the period of this atrocious massacre, Francis
lost his second son, the duke of Orleans, who died of a
pestilential fever. He was a youth of gay temper and
fascinating manners ; consequently, a favourite with his
father. It was to him that the duchy of Milan, or the
Low Countries, had been promised in dowry with an
Austrian princess at the treaty of Crespy. His death
almost annulled that treaty. Francis despatched an
embassy to Charles on the occasion, making some fresh
demands. " If the king will leave me in peace," replied
the emperor, then harassed by the league of the protestant
princes, " I will leave him so."
In the beginning of the year 1547, Francis received
tidings of the death of Henry VI 1 1., for whom he had
always entertained a friendship, though the jealous tem-
per of Henry prevented him from returning it. The
French king ordered a magnificent mass to be said
for the deceased monarch, although he had died out of
the pale of the church. He felt Henry's death to be
the forerunner of his own, which now advanced rapidly.
Francis tried, like Louis XL, to shun his fate, or at
1547. CHARACTER OF FRAXCIS I. 259
least to dissipate his chagrin,by frequent change of scene,
and by the amusement of the chase. Whilst he was re-
turning to St. Germain, his malady suddenly grew worse
at Rambouillet, where he died on the 3 1 st day of March,
1547- His last counsel to his son was, to lighten the
burden of taxes, and to beware of the ambition of the
Guises.
Francis I. was remarkable for a large and noble per-
son. The qualities of his mind corresponded. He was
brave, generous, confident, splendid in his tastes, gallant
in his pleasures. He was warm hearted ; his devoted-
ness as a son, his attachment as a friend, partook of
tenderness. The same frank and undissembling temper
that bound to him those he loved, made speedy enemies
of those whom he disliked. Although prodigal and
unfortunate as well as despotic, he was still a popular
king ; a distinction which he owed to the neiy spring of
loyalty that now actuated men's minds, as well as to his
own personal character, of which the failings were as
amiable as the virtues. He was a fair type of his age,
the ideal of its perfection. He forms the point and
marks the epoch in which chivalry and gentility meet,
the former subsiding gradually into the latter.
Some writers accuse Francis of being an aristocratic
king; whilst others, his own contemporaries, accuse him
of sacrificing the aristocracy to favouritism. The fact
is, Francis was opposed to an oligarchy, or to a few
high, powerful chiefs. Past history, as well as the
revolt of Bourbon, gave him a natural dislike to this
kind of cabal, for which reason he exiled Montmorency,
as eager to grasp at power, and bade his son to beware of
the Guises. But the institution of a wide aristocracy
was what Francis loved, the class of noble as distin-
guished from that of base. It was he who drew the
strong line between these castes, less marked before, on
account of the gradations which rank and birth filled
from the lowest to the highest ranks. But Francis made
it a maxim, that all nobles were equal ; he called himself
" the first gentleman of France ;" and whilst his pride
260 HISTORY OF FKANCE. 1 54?7
degraded the peasant and artisan far below him, his
generosity raised to his own level all those of gentle
birth in his dominions. It was owing to this mode of
viewing and of classing the French, that the nation soon
became divided into two castes ; the one apparently that
of conquerors, the other that of the conquered. One
represents the Franks, the other the Gauls ; and eru-
dition lent its weight to sanction, by a false theory, that
pernicious division, the result of royal whim and aris-
tocratic arrogance.
The formation of a court, begun by Anne of Britany,
but accomplished by Francis, had a great share in pro-
ducing and strengthening this state of things. Men
may form opinions, but it is women who foster them
into prejudice. The court became a school of manners,
of morals, and political conduct, with immense influence
over the nation ; but with still greater over the monarch,
whose personal character and feelings were speedily
merged in that of the little world around him. It soon
matured a scheme of moral, as well as of political prin-
ciple, for itself, such as it found to be convenient. The
political code we find in Machiavel ; the moral is the
worst and most corrupted state of Catholicism. Prelates
thronged at court. It counted no less than twelve car-
dinals at the death of Francis, of which number seven
were instantly got rid of by his successor. Those, as is
related of the Jesuits, adopted the habits and morals
of their sphere, were amongst the most gallant and cor-
rupted, and accordingly were allowed to lirect the con-
science of that high-born race whose licentiousness they
countenanced and absolved. VFhile the church was
chicaning Henry upon his marriages, Francis was in the
full career of licentiousness, as an orthodox and most
Christian king.
To such a court, the very name of reform was dis-
tasteful. Not but that reform itself was made subser-
vient, as well as Catholicism, to the lusts and passions of
mankind, but the passions of Francis had full play under
the wing of the orthodox church. His interests, too,
154-7- CHARACTER OF FRANCIS I. %6l
after the concordat had given him the nomination of
benefices, agreed with those of that church. And what
was more important, the French nobility had the same
interests : for the right of election, sanctioned hy Cal-
vinism, would take away those rich ecclesiastical offices
now reserved exclusively for them. Had Lutheranism
made its way into France, as it had into England, it
might have been tolerated ; but Calvinism roused at
once the king, the court, the prelates, nobles, legists.
The object of Francis in inviting JMelancthon was per-
haps to inoculate his subjects with a milder species of
heresy, the distemper in one shape or other being un-
avoidable. But Geneva succeeded in communicating its
religious tenets to a great portion of the French people.
Francis has been not unjustly accused of despotic
propensities. The royal person and authority acquired
a kind of sacro-sanctity in his reign ; and yet the ge-
neral progress of opinion, formed upon a mixture of
romance and classic reading, and taking consistency
from the facilities which the institution of a court
afforded to the noble class for communicating and com-
paring their peculiar ideas, is more the cause of this
than any policy or conduct of the monarch. " Do
what we will," said Louis XII., in his declining days,
" that big fellow Francis will spoil ah 1 ." Yet it is dif-
ficult to say what he did spoil. He certainly refrained
from calling the states together ; yet Louis had but once
adopted that measure : and Francis certainly did no
more than follow the steps of his predecessor in the
mode of levying taxes, however he might surpass him in
the measure. The people were not discontented with
Francis ; unfortunately they did not regret the states.
It was to sedition, and to a lack of authority, that most
of the past divisions and disasters of France were to be
ascribed ; and the people congratulated themselves upon
having a powerful king, who had humbled the chiefs of
the aristocracy, and who secured to all an~equal distri-
bution of justice. Unfortunately, too, the tide of the time
ran towards despotic power in a monarch, and the mon-
s 3
262 HISTORY OF PRANCE. 1547-
arch went with this tide. But I cannot look upon
Francis as selfishly or designedly culpable of under-
mining the liberties of France.
The glory of the monarch's reign is his patronage of
letters and of the fine arts. Primaticcio, under whose
direction so many noble edifices sprung up in France,
was an architect whom his liberality had enticed from
Italy ; and Leonardo da Vinci, more famed, though less
prolific, as a painter, won from the same country by
Francis, reflects honour on his patronage and taste. Of
literature, unfortunately for the fame of the munificent
king, the rude foundations were yet to be laid ; and
these he applied himself to establish, in endowing col-
leges, in opening schools, in inviting men of learning to
his capital, and rewarding them. As yet there were not
materials, there existed not that refinement of tongue,
that maturity of taste, requisite for the production of great
works. Still Rabelais indulged his coarse wit with im-
punity, being in this respect more fortunate than Marot.
This first of the French poets early espoused the principles
of Calvin, and materially helped to disseminate them by
his translation of the Psalms, which soon became the
favourite chant of the people. To sing them, however,
was considered a crime worthy of the stake; and Marot
was obliged to save himself from that punishment by
voluntary exile.
CHAP. VII.
15471559.
HENRY THE SECOND.
HENRY II. was thirty years of age when he ascended
the throne. He resembled his father in size and
strength, but had not the same graces of person ; neither
had he the taste, the warmth, the talents, or the amia-
1547- MONTMORENCY RECALLED. 263
bility of Francis. Still he had commanded armies
without disrepute, and was violently attached to those
rude and warlike exercises which had been a pastime of
his father. Although passionless, he had thought fit to
follow the example of Francis in selecting a mistress.
This was Diana of Poitiers, soon after created duchess
of Valentinois, a dame who was of an age to be his
mother, and who really exercised a kind of maternal
authority over him. Francis, having observed with
pain his son's dullness and uncouthness, had rejoiced at
seeing him devote himself to an accomplished woman,
who might form his manners and awaken his taste.
The charms of Diana, however, were productive of little
effect upon Henry, save that of establishing her own
influence. She had, even in the lifetime of the late
monarch, engaged Henry in a kind of unmeaning rivalry
or hostility towards the court, or rather towards the
duchess d'Etampes. The existence of these parties has
been noticed, and the constable Montmorency owed his
long disgrace in part to their intrigues.
The first act of the new king was to summon Mont-
morency to court and to re-establish him in authority;
which, however, he shared with the Guises, and with
the marechal Saint Andre, the playmate of Henry, and
the son of his governor. The duchess d'Etaaapes was
deprived of all the rich possessions that she owed to the
favour of the late king ; and her husband was even
urged to institute a law-suit against her, in which Henry
himself had the meanness to appear as a witness. This
proceeded from the triumphant rivalry of Diana. The
severe spirit of Montmorency showed itself in the exe-
cution of de Coucy, and of the marechal du Biez, for
not having defended Boulogne with more vigour. Mont-
morency affected the character of Cato the Censor :
it was the fashion to adopt classic heroes as models ;
hence he gave full scope to a rude and merciless temper.
Jealous of the influence of prelates and cardinals, he
banished them from court, and would willingly have
passed the same decree against the ladies who thronged
s 4
HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1547-
thither ; but Diana of Poitiers was not to be resisted,
and the constable, instead of opposing, rather courted
her favour. Another point of Montmorency's character,
for which, too, he might plead the example of his Roman
model, should not be omitted, this was avarice. He
laboured and intrigued to add to his rich domains, and
terrified the count de Chateaubriand so as to compel
that nobleman to bequeath his possessions to the Mont-
morencies. Thus, as Francis robbed the unfortunate
man of his wife, the minister of Francis robbed him of
his heritage. The Guises acted a different part from
that of Montmorency : they were, indeed, equally urgent
for place and pension, but then their purpose was to
lavish, not to hoard. They were generous, and ex-
pended largely in gaining friends and partisans ; as if,
from the commencement, they had been actuated by the
ambition of raising their family to the first rank in the
state. When these greedy and contending chiefs of
parties came to divide at once the gifts of royalty, and
the spoil of the people, Diana of Poitiers, for example,
received all the fines paid for the renewal of offices and
privileges under the new reign, men at once perceived
and regretted the prudent policy of Francis, who had
exiled the constable, and mistrusted the Guises. Acting
contrary to his example and advice, and allowing the
great aristocratic chiefs to acquire influence and wealth
in the administration, instead of changing his ministers,
and preventing the undue pre-eminence of any subject,
Henry laid the foundation of those party intrigues and
civil wars which proved the destruction of his race.
It was the care of the new king to celebrate the ob-
sequies of his predecessor in the most magnificent style.
The bishop, who pronounced the funeral oration, used
a bold metaphor, which gave occasion to the bigots of
the Sorbonne to show their zeal. King Francis, accord-
ing to the worthy prelate, had been of so holy a life,
that his soul had gone straight into paradise without
passing through the flames of purgatory. The denial
of purgatory was a favourite tenet of the reformers.
1547- JAUXAC AND CHATAIGNERAIE. 265
The Sorbonne forthwith accused the preacher of hen
they sent a deputation to St. Germain to make known
their complaint to the king. Mendosa, a chief officer
of the court, first received it ; and, by a facetious speech,
saved Henry from an act of injustice. " Calm your-
selves, gentlemen," said he to the deputies of the Sor-
bonne ; " if you had known the good king Francis as
well as I did, you would have better understood the
words of the preacher. Francis was not a man to tarry
long any where ; and if he did take a turn in purgatory,
believe me, the devil himself could not persuade him to
make any thing like a sojourn."
The famous duel between Jarnac and Chataigneraie,
was the first striking event of Henry's reign. They had
both been pages in the court of Francis I. Chataigne-
raie was a stout youth, given to quarrel, skilled at his
weapon, and renowned for his hardihood : he excelled
in those rude and martial exercises which the dauphin
Henry loved, and was consequently a favourite with
him. Jarnac, on the contrary, was a beau, given to
gallantry, and fond of dress and elegance ; a taste which
he indulged to an extent beyond his apparent means.
1 1 happened that once in the society of Henry, Chataig-
neraie, contemning such taste and such a mode of life,
asked Jarnac, where he found resources for such expense?
Jarnac replied, " that although his father was liberal
in his allowances, yet that he obtained an increase of
funds through his step-mother, with whom he had made
himself a favourite." This passed. But Chataigneraie
construed the words of Jarnac into an insinuation that
he enjoyed the favour of his step-mother in a criminal
sense. He mentioned this to Henry, who repeated it to
Diana of Poitiers. The calumny circulated in whispers,
and at length reached the ears of Jarnac's father. The
son was summoned. In horror he disavowed the crime,
and succeeded in exculpating himself. He followed
this up by appearing before Francis in the presence of
the court, and declaring, that whoever had given birth
to such a report, " lied in his throat." The dauphin
266 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1548.
took this deadly insult to himself : he, however, could
not come forward. The rude Chataigneraie did, and
asserted, that he had heard Jarnac boast of having been
too intimate with his step-mother. A challenge, of
course, was the consequence, and Francis was besought
by the antagonists to appoint the field for a combat, the
issue of which was to decide the guilt or innocence of
Jarnac. Francis, however, forbade the duel, either
averse to the absurd principle of judicial combat, or
aware how much the imprudence of his son had been
the occasion of the quarrel. On Henry's accession
Jarnac renewed his challenge and demand. The king
consented. The lists were prepared at St. Germain :
Henry and his court were witnesses. When the an-
tagonists met in the enclosed field, the slender Jarnac
seemed unable to resist the powerful Chataigneraie :
he retired before his blows, covering himself with
his buckler, until seizing an opportunity he wounded
his adversary in the back of the leg, and completely
.disabled him. The victor, however, spared his ad-
versary. Having in vain asked Chataigneraie to recall
the calumnies that he had uttered, Jarnac advanced to-
wards the monarch, and, by the usual courtesy of placing
it at the sovereign's disposal, waved his right to his
enemy's life. The fierce Chataigneraie scorned to be
thus spared : he refused chirurgical aid ; even tore his
wounds open when they had been dressed, and died.
Such was the judicial combat, in which may be said to
have originated the modern duel.
The new reign was signalised by a number of new
edicts. Robberies and assassinations had become more
common : commerce with Italy, and the recent inven-
tion of the pistol, that convenient weapon for conceal-
ment and menace, contributed to this. Severe laws for
seizing murderers were enacted, and the condemned were
to be broken on the wheel. Arms were forbidden, ex-
cept for the military. The jurisdiction of the provost of
police was extended, to the dissatisfaction of the parlia-
ment, who protested, and could only be brought to register
lj-18. INSURRECTION AT BORDEAUX. 2(>7
the law by considering the wickedness of the age. A com-
plete poor-law was at the same time enacted for the
capital ; and sumptuary edicts prohibited the use of
silk and velvet, with curious exceptions in favour of dif-
ferent garments and personages. To call together the
states was no more the policy of Henry than of Francis;
and to impose new taxes was an unpopular commence-
ment of a new reign : nevertheless, the fixed revenue
did not suffice ; war was becoming daily more expensive.
An increase in the current value of coin, the sale of
the crown lands, and the demand of a .free gift from
the good towns, were the first financial measures of
Henry.
After his consecration the king proceeded to make the
tour of his dominions, visiting his strong places, and re-
viewing his armies. He had reached Turin, Avhen tid-
ings arrived of a serious insurrection in Angoumois and
Saintonge. The gabelleurs, or collectors of the salt tax,
had commenced their operations in the new reign with
increased rigour. The inhabitants of the little town of
Lorignac first thought proper to resist : they beat the
collectors, and put them to flight. The whole country,
on learning this success, fell on the odious gabelleurs :
the peasants armed and mustered ; and the collectors hav-
ing disappeared, they proceeded to attack the chateaux
of the gentry. The insurrection at length reached Bor-
deaux ; and its governor, Monneins, found it necessary
to shut himself in Chateau-trompette, the fortress of the
town. Imprudently coming forth soon afterwards to par-
ley with the insurgents, he was slain. The people salted
his mangled remains, to mark the cause of their sedition.
The king, on learning these excesses, instantly re-
turned to Lyons, and despatched the constable with an.
army to crush the insurrection. The Bordelais, who
knew his severe temper, were terrified at his approach.
They sent a splendid bark for his conveyance, with their
keys, in token of submission, and a prayer that the lans-
quenets, whose violence they dreaded, might not be
allowed to enter their walls. f< My lansquenets are
2GS HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1 5 1$.
loyal servitors of the king," replied Montmorency ; " take
back your keys ; here are those I intend to make use of."
He pointed to a formidable train of artillery. The con-
stable's entry was like his answer, menacing. His
first care was to erect gibbets and scaffolds. One hundred
citizens were thereon executed. Two peasant leaders
died on the rack. The city was to lose its privileges ;
and its chief magistrates were compelled to disinter, A\ itli
their nails, the body of Monneins, and transport it for
honourable burial to the cathedral. Montmorency 's
progress through the insurgent provinces was marked
by equal severity. Henry made afterwards some com-
pensation for this rigour. Bordeaux recovered its pri-
vileges ; and the gabelle itself was diminished. After
this success the court celebrated at Moulins the marriage
of Antoine de Bourbon duke de Vendome with Jane
'Albret, daughter and heiress of the king of Navarre.
'rom this union Henry IV. was destined to spring.
The peace with England and with the emperor had
subsisted during the two first years of Henry's reign,
notwithstanding the determination of all parties to re-
engage in war. But the emperor, though victorious over
the protestants, was yet occupied in establishing and
confirming the superiority that his arms had acquired.
The English flag, waving on the walls of Boulogne, was
what chiefly touched and occupied Henry. His views
were turned in that direction, rather than towards Ger-
many. The cautious counsels of Montmorency alone
kept the young king from open war with England. The
policy of France, however, acquired a victory over her
enemy at this time, greater than any that her arms could
effect. This was the abstraction of Mary, heiress of
Scotland, from that country to France, where she was
betrothed to Francis, eldest son of Henry II. In the
following year the French attacked Boulogne with a
large force, while, the duke of Somerset, occupied with
the discontents and dissensions at home, was unable to
despatch an army to its relief. Nor could the emperor be
induced to aid or interfere. A wet season, and an hum-
1550. TREATY BETAFEEN FRANCE AND ENGLAND* 2^9
dation, which broke up the camp of the French, and dis-
persed their forces, alone saved Boulogne for that year ;
and in the next a treaty was concluded between the crowns,
greatly to the advantage of France. Boulogne was sur-
rendered ; a certain sum was paid by France, who never-
theless refused to continue the pension that Francis I.
had paid to Henry. Scotland was included hi the
treaty.
Hume remarks, that during these negotiations the
emperor observed that the prerogatives of an English
king were more extensive than those of a king of France.
The emperor, in one respect, spoke truth. The English
king had more power over his nobles, to ruin, or cause
them to be beheaded. This proceeded from the late civil
wars, from the change of dynasty, and from the frequency
and danger of treason. Hence the king of England
was more dreaded in his court, the etiquette of which
was most severe. Vieilleville, sent as an envoy to Eng-
land by Henry II., observed with wonder that the
British monarch was served by lords on the knee. The
debonnaire Francis had established for nobles much
greater equality with the crown. But if the English
kings were more powerful judicially than the French, or
rather, if they made more use of that authority, the
English commons, on the other hand, preserved their
principal right and custom of granting taxes ; and how-
ever base and obsequious were the parliaments of the
Tuclors, still they did wisely in not risking their exist-
ence and influence in a premature struggle with the
crown, such as had proved the ruin of the French
states-general, until the public mind had gathered the
information and consistency requisite to support them
or until religious dissent and freedom of opinion had
arisen to give a new and stubborn principle of force to
the people.
France had now remained for six years at peace with
the empire. Charles had well employed this interval
of leisure in humbling and subduing the protestant
league of German princes. With the aid of Maurice of
270 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1550.
Saxony, he hail defeated tkem at the battle of Muhlberg,
in l.jJ-7- He ha.il l)een severe,, and even unjust, in his
treatment of their chiefs, whom he retained prisoners.
But his efforts had been zealously and not illiberally
directed towards the impracticable task of reconciling
and uniting the two hostile sects. Had the debate been
even confined to Germany, any arrangement short of
toleration would have been impossible. But the rights
and claims, the spiritual and temporal interests of the
pope, joined with his bad faith and intrigues, might
have deterred even the politic and powerful Charles from
the attempt. A general council was summoned at Trent.
The protestants disowned, and the pontiff dreaded its
authority. The appearance of a pestilential disease
afforded Paul a pretext to remove it to Bologna. Months
passed in discussions. The pope and the emperor could
not take the same views. The pope would not yield a
jot of his authority ; and the emperor, sincerely inte-
rested in its consequences, was bent on restoring peace
to the church. Enmity broke out between them. The
assassination of the pope's nephew Farnese, by some
malcontent nobles of Placentia, and the subsequent occu-
pation of that town by the emperor, completed the
disgust of Paul, who applied to Henry for his alliance
and aid. But the French monarch was not yet pre-
pared ; besides, the great age of the pontiff deterred him.
The emperor, in the mean time, tried his plan of con-
ciliation. He caused to be drawn up such a series of
religious tenets, as he imagined both parties might accept
from a love of peace. These, known under the name of
Interim, were presented to a diet : they were dissatis-
factory to both parties ; but the emperor insisted on
submission to them, until a general council should
decide.
Henry II. had hitherto forborne to interfere in
these religious quarrels. He wisely determined on
first settling his differences with England. Neverthe-
less his edicts against heretics, and his pursuit of them
in his own dominions, manifested his orthodoxy. In
1551. WAR WITH THE POPE AND EMPEROR. 271
March, 1548, numbers of people from Auvergne were
burned in Paris for heresy ; and the gorgeous ceremony
of Henry's public entry into his capital was terminated,
as all festivals and holidays were, by a similar sacrifice.
The king had as yet no feeling but contempt for the
reformation. None but the lowest and most ignorant
of his subjects professed it, at least openly. And the
absence from court of that host of prelates, who had
urged Francis to persecution, left the monarch for a
time happily ignorant, or careless, of a disease, that had
already gained the vitals of the kingdom.
The peace between France and England excited, not
without reason, the emperor's jealousy and fears. Henry
now turned his view to oppose Charles, and many little
causes T)f difference had arisen between them. The
affair of Parma was left unsettled by pope Paul, who
died in 1550. The new pontiff, Julius III., was em-
barrassed by the conflicting interests and desires of
Francis and of Charles. The Council of Trent was
summoned to meet in the following May. But both
monarchs and the pontiff forgot alike the peace of the
church and the repose of Christendom, in their desire
to preserve influence or dominion in one town. Julius,
after much hesitation, inclined to the side of the em-
peror, who flattered him with the idea of making Parma
a principality for one of his family. Charles accord-
ingly, with the pope's acquiescence, besieged Farnese
in Parma. Henry instantly ordered troops to his aid;
and thus the war commenced in 1551, though no mili-
tary feat signalised the brief campaign.
Henry, now at enmity with pope and emperor, look-
ed round in search of allies. He succeeded in gaining
the Swiss, except those of the protestant cantons of Berne
and Zurich, and in exciting the Turks against the em-
pire, although this league was of course kept as secret
as possible. The protestant princes of Germany were
those whose alliance was most important in resisting
and diverting the forces of Charles. That party had
been humbled, but not destroyed. The emperor, in the
272 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1551.
arrogance of victory, had alienated from him Maurice
the new elector of Saxony, himself a protestant, al-
though hitherto the chief cause of the downfall of the
protestant league. Maurice, having secured from Charles
the pre-eminence agreeable to his ambition, which was
all the advantage he could hope to gain, now meditated
on rallying the vanquished party, in order to put himself
at its head, and defy the emperor. In secret the pro-
testant league was renewed ; and envoys were sent to
Henry to conclude an alliance with him. It is asserted
in the memoirs of Vieilleville, that the king and the con-
stable were both averse to this alliance, and wished to
retire from the war, until Vieilleville himself spoke, and
not only decided the council in favour of the alliance,
but proposed the seizure of the three imperial towns of
Metz, Toul, and Verdun, agreeably to a suggestion of
count Nassau. Vieilleville probably exaggerated his own
influence, and miscalculated respecting the backward-
ness of Henry and Montmorency on this occasion. At
any rate, the league was concluded against the emperor,
and Maurice of Saxony was declared its chief. The
king promised to pay 240,000 crowns at the commence-
ment of the war, and a monthly subsidy afterwards.
He was also to attack the Low Countries, and possess
himself of the imperial towns above mentioned. This
treaty, concluded in October, 1551, was kept secret until
the subtile Maurice declared the moment favourable for
throwing off the mask.
Henry's resentment against the pope was excessive.
He sent Amyot, the translator of Plutarch, to Trent,
where the council was to assemble on the 1st of Sep-
tember. Amyot protested in a public speech against
the authority of an assembly, which the French prelates
were prevented from joining by the war which the pon-
tiff himself had excited. In a speech, of which the
aim is not very clear, though the ill temper is evident,
Amyot enumerates a long list of papal iniquities and
usurpations. He alluded to the pragmatic sanction as
still in vigour, declared Henry's contempt of excom-
1551. EDICT AGAINST HERETICS. 273
munication, and entreated the fathers toapplysome remedy
to this rifting schism. The French king showed his in-
veteracy not only in word but in act, by issuing an edict
forbidding the despatch of annates, or any tribute
money to Rome. These menaces intimidated the pope
more than the arms of Henry. Ere the year elapsed,
Julius sued for a reconciliation, which took place, and a
cessation of hostilities left France in possession of Parma.
But lest the partisans of the reformation should be em-
boldened in the kingdom by this enmity towards the
pope, and by the king's league with the German pro-
testants, soon to be made public, he issued about this
time the celebrated edict of Chateaubriand against he-
retics. This, besides recapitulating and sanctioning the
old punishments againsts innovators in religion, declares
their crime cognisable both by the common courts of
law and the ecclesiastical courts. The favourers or con-
cealers of heretics, even those who interceded for them,
were declared equally criminal with the principals.
Great pains were taken to discover any such leanings
among men in office. A system of espionage was or-
dered for this purpose. A profession of faith was pub-
licly and frequently demanded, and no new functionaries
entered on their employments without a certificate of
catholicity. The property of all fugitives was declared
to be confiscated, as well as all money sent to Geneva.
Severe laws were enacted against the press ; and that
of Lyons was more especially watched and fettered,
owing to its vicinity to Switzerland. A Dominican friar,
named Orri, was confirmed in the office of grand inqui-
sitor, and he was allowed to appoint subaltern agents
throughout the kingdom. This fearful body had in
France, however, no greater power than that of enquir-
ing and denouncing : condemnations could only be passed
in the regular laic or ecclesiastical courts.
The winter of 1551-2 was employed by Henry, as
well as by Maurice of Saxony, in secret preparations for
attacking the emperor. Henry held a bed of justice, a
kind of solemn meeting of the king and court with the
VOJL. i- T
274 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1552.
parliament, in February. Notwithstanding the now
established despotism of the French king, the necessity
was felt of making publicly known new and important
measures of policy or finance, to a body that represented,
or might affect to represent, the nation. The king in a
speech explained the cause and purpose of the war on
which he was about to enter ; recommended the main-
tenance of justice and the suppression of heresy ; and
stated his intention of leaving the queen as regent in
his absence, the first time that Catherine of Medicis
appears to have been invested with authority. The con-
stable, who spoke after the king, detailed at greater length
all the improvements and policy of the reign : he enu-
merated the forces then in active service ; stated the ad-
ditional force that would be requisite ; and concluded by
asking those assembled, as if they were the states-general,
what they could do in return, and in support of such
wisdom? The cardinal of Bourbon then rose, and an-
nounced that the French church had agreed to offer a
considerable sum to meet the present necessities of the
kingdom. The fact was, that an edict, framed by chan-
cellor Poyet, was issued by Francis I. in 1539, con-
siderably curtailing the jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical
courts; and the sum now offered by the clergy was the
price of the repeal of the obnoxious law. The repeal
was promised, but the parliament never would allow it
to be registered, or to have force. At present, in answer
to the constable's exhortation, the parliament made no
offer of their purse; they merely promised obsequiousness
and obedience; which were soon put to the test when the
financial scheme of the constable was announced. This
was the establishment of sixty minor or presidial courts,
as they were called, throughout the kingdom, for the
hearing and deciding of all suits, in which the value to
be recovered did not exceed 500 livres. Divers other
vendible offices and courts were also ordained ; and thus
was created a lasting annual charge upon the state, for
the sake of a momentary sum. The parliament were
thunderstruck, and made some demur; but, as they
1552. HENRY SEIZES METZ. 275
could propose no better plan in the exigencies of the
moment, they allowed the new edict to be registered by
express command of the king, thus recording at the same
time their own dissent.
The king summoned his army and noblesse to meet
him in March, on the borders of Champagne. At that
very period Maurice of Saxony threw off the mask and
turned his arms against the emperor, who was reposing
in confidence at Inspruck, without any means of defence.
Never was a cunning prince so taken in his own toils.
Maurice entered Augsburg on the 1st of April, and In-
spruck in May, Charles being obliged to make a pre-
cipitate retreat to avoid being taken prisoner. Henry,
on his part, commenced by making himself master of
Toul, which opened its gates. Metz, more important,
made more difficulties. The French army was beneath
its walls, and the citizens feared alike to submit and to
resist. They permitted the constable, however, to enter
with a guard of honour. Montmorency, by stratagem,
multiplied his guard into a strong division : the burgher
sentries, who objected, were pushed aside, and Metz
was in the power of the French. All Lorraine was over-
run by them, and the young duke of that province was
conveyed to Paris to be educated with the dauphin.
The Guises were too honourable to allow of the spolia-
tion of their helpless relative. Strasburg, however,
warned by the fate of Metz, refused to admit the French
troops : tidings arrived, in the mean time, that Maurice,
having failed in his project of taking the emperor, had
concluded a treaty with him. This was the peace of
religion, or of Passau, by which liberty of conscience
was secured to the German protestants. Never was
nobler aim gained by war : we even pardon, in consider-
ation of that great end, the dissimulation and falsehood
of Maurice.
Henry now discovered that he was abandoned by his
new allies, who had made their peace with the emperor,
without including him or consulting his interests. They
perhaps reasoned, that the towns which he had taken
T 2
276 HISTORY CF FRANCE.
were ample payment for the assistance that he had ren-
dered. The French king soon began to feel himself ex-
posed to the sole fury of the war. The emperor's sister,
who governed the Low Countries, sent two armies; one
to ravage Picardy, the other Champagne. Instead, how-
ever, of defending his subjects, Henry advanced to an-
noy those of his enemy. He entered the province of
Luxembourg, overran it, and took several towns. The
emperor, in the mean time, had mustered his forces.
An event that spoke well for the character of Charles
was, that his captains, and the subjects of his various
kingdoms, rallied to his aid instead of deserting him in
his distress, and he soon found himself at the head of
an army of 60,000 men. With this force he advanced
to the Rhine, sedulously endeavouring to conceal the ob-
ject of his march. But Henry was at no loss to discover
this. The possession of the towns lately captured was
of the first importance to his kingdom, which they
covered on the side of Champagne, a frontier compara-
tively open without them ; and the sarne reasons which
prompted Henry to return and defend them obstinately,
must have equally stimulated Charles to recapture them,
even if ideas of retaliation and vengeance had not been
a sufficient impulse.
To put Metz into a state of defence was now the sole
thought of the French. It is singular, that giving bat-
tle to the emperor was never once proposed by any officer
of that gallant nation. But with all the valour dis-
played by individuals," nothing could be more timid than
the general operations of war in those days ; a misfor-
tune doubtless attributable in a great measure to the
limited and almost exhausted finances of Henry.
Francis duke of Guise, who had not long succeeded
to his father Claude, the first duke, took upon him the
command of Metz. A great part of the warlike noblesse
of France hastened to serve under his command, and,
with 6000 chosen troops, composed the garrison. The
exertions of Guise to conciliate the inhabitants of the
new conquest, to repair and complete the fortificationSj
1552. METZ INVESTED BY CHARLES. 2? 7
and to provide ample store of victuals, were strenuous.
He gained on this occasion the reputation of a hero, by
his activity, a quality not less excellent than courage.
It was the middle of October ere Charles invested
Metz, the duke of Alva having the chief command under
him. Albert of Brandenburg was in the neighbourhood
with a body of mercenary troops. Both parties en-
deavoured to gain him, but the emperor succeeded.
Albert signalised his adhesion by routing a French
corps, and taking prisoner the duke of Aumale, the
brother of Guise. The defence was not less obstinate.
A month elapsed ere any thing like a breach could be
effected, but the activity of Guise had raised new for-
tifications. Not even the presence of the emperor could
inspire the audacity requisite for the attack. Winter
at length surprised the besiegers, and it came with un-
usual rigour. The army, encamped under tents, soon
suffered from the severity of the weather; and provisions
began to grow scarce, the supplies being intercepted by
hovering bodies of French cavalry. Early in December
a vigorous sortie of the garrison had discomfited the im-
perialists. The latter, notwithstanding their position as
besiegers, confined themselves to the defensive, whilst their
enemies were ever ready to rush out to the attack. The
difficulty, indeed, was to restrain them, ani l thisimpe-
tuosity it was which chiefly employed the ingenuity of
Guis Charles atlength tried to undermine the walls
atuTto effect a breach ; but the French countermined,
and wore out his patience as well as his force. After
a sorry Christmas Charles raised the siege, and the
glory of Guise was complete. He made a generous use
of victory ; provided necessaries for the wounded and
famished enemy, and contrived to become as popular
with the foe as he already was with the French. His
troops imitated him. A squadron engaged in pursuit of
the flying enemy came up with a band, who asked,
simply enough, what the French wanted ? " We
seek to exchange a few blows, to be sure," was the reply.
" We are in no condition for any such amusement,"
T 3
278 HISTOHY OF FRANCE. 1554.
rejoined the imperialists: " go away, and let us retire
in quiet." The French were generous enough to follow
the advice.
Charles shut himself up in Brussels, devoured with
mortification, and tormented by the gout. " 1 see that
fortune is a woman," exclaimed he : " she abandons my
grey hairs." The emperor's spirit rallied, however,
when the season arrived for again entering the field, and
he succeeded in taking partial vengeance. He made
himself master of Terouanne ; and in his anger rased
and obliterated it so completely, that not a vestige of it
now remains. This was an important loss. Terouanne
in the north, and Aix in the south, were considered the
bulwarks of the kingdom, or, in the words of Francis I.,
they were " the pillows on which a king of France
might lay his head."* Hesdin, a strong town on the
borders of Picardy, was also taken by the emperor.
There seems to have been no army, to oppose to him ;
the want of troops being still owing to the low state of the
finances. The revenue was not sufficient for the defence
of the kingdom. The government feared to increase
the taxes, and had recourse to temporary expedients for
raising money ; while they feared to convoke the states-
general, who might have adapted the revenue to the
advance and exigencies of the time. Besides the usual
expedient of creating new offices, and of rendering the
old offices hereditary, for money, a kind of stamp or
registry duty was established ; and an iniquitous law
obliged the subject, in certain cases, to yield up his in-
come to the king in lieu of uncertain and long-dated
drafts on the salt fund.
In policy Charles still showed himself to have the
advantage. The marriage of Philip, his eldest son, with
Mary queen of England, in the commencement of 1554,
menaced Henry with a renewal of that league which
had crushed his father. The French, however, seemed
determined to repair the ill success of the last campaign.
* It is curious here to observe that Napoleon looked on Antwerp, May.
ence, and Alessandria, as the bulwarks of liis empire
1554". SIEGE OF RENTI. 2~9
Montmorency, whom the loss of Therouanne had thrown
into a fit of sickness, spent the winter in the collection
of funds and forces ; and Henry, accompanied by the
constable and the duke of Guise, entered the Low Coun-
tries. They laid siege to Marienburg, and took it :
Bovines and Dinant were also won. Philibert Emma-
nuel prince of Savoy, the son of that duke whom the
arms of Francis I. had dispossessed, cannonaded the
imperialists, but had no force competent to oppose the
French. In those days of narrow resources and unsettled
finances, contending powers seldom made a simultaneous
effort. Previous bad success, or a sudden impulse, excited
one of them to a great exertion, which, until an interval
had elapsed, it was impossible to renew. Thus advan-
tage alternated from side to side, and even victory
brought no decision. This year the French were in
sufficient force for battle, and it was the desire of Guise
to fight ; but the prudent Montmorency, to whose opi-
nions the king paid great deference, would not admit of
risk. The veteran constable began to entertain consi-
derable jealousy of Guise, and of the fame he had ac-
quired by the defence of Metz. Montmorency put
forward his nephew Gaspard de Coligny as a competitor
of Guise, placing Coligny under the duke's command, to
watch and witness his proceedings.
The French invested Renti, a frontier town of Artois,
and warmly pressed the siege. Charles himself advanced
to throw succours into it, and encamped near the French,
The duke of Guise commanded the wing or division next
to the emperor. He conceived a plan for drawing on a
general action by means of an ambuscade, to which he
enticed the enemy's cavalry. A partial engagement
ensued, in which Guise was victorious ; but as the con-
stable refused to march to his assistance, or make the
contest general, the emperor retired to his camp and
fortified it. To take Renti in his presence was imprac-
ticable, and the siege was therefore abandoned. It was
the cause of a lively dispute between Guise and the con-
stable, and their mutual enmity became henceforth de-
T '1
2SO HISTORY OF FRAXCE. 1555.
clarcrl. In Italy the principal event of the war was the
revolt of Sienna in favour of France, and the gallant
siege sustained for more than six months by that town
against a far superior force. The siege, as recorded hy
Montluc himself, the commander, is renowned. Montluc
v.-as the Gascon whose impatient oddity and eloquence
had won Francis I. to give permission for the battle of
Cerisoles. He was a brave but reckless and cruel ad-
venturer : he fully displays in his Memoirs that quality
of his native province which has become proverbial,
viz. gasconading. He was in the end obliged to sur-
render Sienna. The French indemnified themselves
soon afterwards by the conquest of Corsica.
The year 1555 commenced with an attempt at con-
cluding a peace, under the mediation of cardinal Pole.
It failed, but not owing to the spirit or inveteracy of the
belligerents. As to Charles, he soon after gave the most
convincing proofs that ambition and revenge were alike
dead within him. He resigned the crown of Spain, with
his possessions in Italy and the Low Countries to his son
Philip. He endeavoured to unite the empire in the same
hands, but his brother Ferdinand, already emperor elect,
was resolute in supporting his right to the full dignity.
The time chosen for these resignations was towards the
close of the year 1555. Ere they took place, the intrigues
of the pope, Paul IV., Caraffa by name, awakened those
dormant hopes of conquest in Italy which the French
never could altogether abandon. The elevation of a new
pope was the signal for his relatives to aim at princi-
palities. The nephews of Caraffa might indulge in such
aspirations, but the Roman territories had been suffi-
ciently curtailed by the cession of Parma to Farnese.
From the emperor, who was hostile to Paul's election,
they had nothing to hope. Recourse was therefore had
to Henry, and temptations were held out to him to
undertake the conquest of Naples, the native country of
Caraffa. Henry hesitated, and Montmorency strength-
ened his prudent resolve not to embroil France again in
the unlucky politics of Italy. The Guises were of a dif-
1555. PROGRESS OF CALVINISM IN FRANCE. 281
ferent opinion : the duke was eager for fame, for victory,
and conquest ; his brother the cardinal saw in French
success his own elevation to the popedom. Their war-
like counsel prevailed against the prudent advice of the
constable. A treaty was signed with the pope ; but its
fulfilment was interrupted by the retirement of Charles,
and the wish that he expressed to leave his empire at
peace. This led to negotiations, and finally to a truce
of five years, highly advantageous to Henry, whom it
left in possession of Savoy, as well as of his important
conquests in Lorraine.
Notwithstanding the numerous and severe edicts of
the king, Calvin was daily gaining disciples in France.
Hitherto, fearing to show themselves in the capital,
they had propagated their opinions amongst the peasantry
and provincial burgesses. An edict was issued in 1 552
against the hedge-schools (ecoles buissonnicres") which
the reformers were in the custom of holding in the coun-
try. The unlimited sale of offices, however, counter-
acted the severity of Henry's laws. In order to multiply
places in the parliament, the judges were to sit but half
the year, and to be succeeded by a fresh set altogether.
Men of all ranks and opinions had purchased these places
of trust. Many who held or favoured reform had thus
crept into influence ; and the bigotry of the government
was neutralised by its misrule and venality. In 1555, a
church or congregation of protestants was formed in
Paris after the model of Geneva; and several towns, as
Meaux, Poitiers, and Angers, followed the example. The
new tenets had even reached the court. Montmorency's
nephew, Coligny, the admiral, became a convert, and he
made use of his office to despatch a protestant colony to
Brazil, which failed, however, in the attempt to form a
settlement. The court soon became aware of the pro-
gress and boldness of the reformers. The cardinal of
Lorraine, on enquiring, found that the provincial and
inferior courts, chiefly ecclesiastical, were neutralised in
their pursuit of heretics by the liberty allowed of appeal-
ing to the parliaments or higher courts, who appeared to
282 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1557-
be by no means zealous or severe. He therefore pre-
pared an ordonnance, declaring the ecclesiastical judges
and inquisitors competent to try and condemn without
reference or appeal. This, however, the parliament in-
stantly refused to register. They sent a deputation to
present a remonstrance to the king, conceived in the
genuine spirit of toleration, declaring, that " the punish-
ment of heretics had increased their number ; and that
it would be far preferable to imitate the primitive
church, who made proselytes and preserved the faith,
not by fire and sword, but by the pure doctrine and
exemplary lives of the bishops." The king showed him-
self indignant at their opposition ; but the parliament
remained unshaken in its determination to resist the
establishment of an inquisition.
The truoe of five years concluded with Charles was
doomed not to last out the first twelve months. The
Caraffas renewed their solicitations and their offers to
tempt Henry to the conquest of Naples ; Guise supported
their arguments, and, despite of the constable, war was
again resolved on. It was not until the commencement of
the following year, 1557, that the duke of Guise could
enter Italy at the head of an army. He advanced with
it to Rome, bent upon the conquest of Naples. But the
pope, on his side, had made no preparations ; his con-
tingent of troops was not raised, and Guise's own force
was too weak to wrest Naples from the duke of Aha.
Philip II. in the mean time raised an army in the
Low Countries to try his first fortune in war. It
amounted to 50,000 men ; and he showed his sagacity
in giving the command to Philibert duke of Savoy. He
had influence enough with his spouse, queen Mary of
England, to make her join him in the war, which she
formally declared, sending a large body of English troops
to swell Philip's army. The duke of Savoy opened the
campaign by laying siege to St. Quentin, a strong town
of considerable importance on the Somme. Coligny,
whom his uncle Montmorency always pushed on to rival
Guise, flung himself into the town, resolved to rival by
1557- SIEGE OP ST. QUENTIN. 283
its defence that of Metz. The admiral, however., had
not so gallant a garrison under his command, and the
duke of Savoy pressed the siege with such activity and
skill, that Coligny communicated to the constable his
fears for the result.
Montmorency accordingly advanced to succour the
admiral, 18,000 troops being the utmost force that he
could muster. The flower of the army was in Italy.
The walls of St. Quentin adjoined a deep marsh, on
which, of course, the besiegers did not take post.
Through the marsh flowed a kind of rivulet ; the con-
stable proposed embarking his succours on this stream,
which would float them towards the walls ; and he cal-
culated, that to gain the town from thence would not be
difficult. A difference, however, arose in the council.
Every measure was fiercely disputed in this reign of
rivalry. The constable intended to lead the whole army
to the bank of the marsh, in order to protect the troops
destined to enter the place. The marechal St. Andre
wisely, as it appeared, deprecated the risk, and recom-
mended that a body of infantry only should make the
? -jmpt under favour of night. Montmorency, however,
led on the whole of his little army, and committed the
first blunder in not arriving at the appointed spot until
the morning was advanced. However, Dandelot, brother
of Coligny, embarked with the succours on the unlucky
rivulet, which did not flow near enough to the walls.
Most of the troops returned ; many were drowned ; not
more than 500, among whom was Dandelot, gained
St. Quentin. The duke of Savoy was not idle in ad-
vancing on the small army of the French ; while Mont-
morency, too tardy in retreating, was equally so in at-
tacking. On their passage over a causeway through the
marshy grounds, the imperialists might have been as-
sailed with advantage ; but the time was lost. The
French were surrounded on every side by superior num-
bers ; still they fought with obstinacy : Montmorency
and St. Andre' charged the enemy with furious courage ;
the veteran constable was unhorsed, and taken prisoner ;
284 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1557-
the count d'Enghien and 600 gentlemen that name
now superseded the designation of knight perished.
Some of the highest noblesse of France were made cap-
tives.
Philip soon after arrived in his victorious camp, and
showed the utmost gratitude towards the duke of Savoy.
When the latter sought to kiss the monarch's hand,
Philip prevented him, replying, that it was himself who
ought to kiss the hands of one that had procured him so
glorious a victory. Still he did not pay entire deference
to his general's opinion ; for when the duke proposed to
abandon St. Quentin, and march without delay towards
Paris, the monarch hesitated, and shrunk from the bold
enterprise. Philip here showed himself a descendant of
the cold and cautious house of Austria. St. Quentin,
now closely pressed, was taken by assault, notwithstand-
ing all the efforts of Coligny, who was made prisoner
while righting in the breach. The French king, amidst
these reverses, exerted himself to rally his affairs, and
dispel the panic of his people. Despatches were in-
stantly sent to Italy, recalling the duke of Guise and his
army. The ban and arriere ban were called out, r*.d
the fortresses garrisoned. It was the queen, Catherine
of Medicis, who showed her activity and presence of
mind on this occasion. She summoned the burgesses of
Paris, restored confidence to them by her words, and
obtained from them the grant of 100,000 crowns; con-
sidering that sum necessary for raising and supporting a
corps of 10,000 men. The king, at the same time, in
his panic, promised his subjects to convoke the states
general in the ensuing year. Either the fears of the
French were groundless, or their exertions for defence
effectual. Philip made no use of his brilliant victory ;
and his army dispersed in autumn without even capturing
another town.
By that time the duke of Guise had returned to Paris.
His departure had obliged the pope to become reconciled
to Philip, who testified that reverence for the church
which education had instilled into him, by exacting no
1558. CALAIS TAKEN FH03I THE ENGLISH. 285
harsh conditions. It was now winter, a period when
hostilities ceased ; but the active spirit of Guise could
not rest, till he had taken revenge for the defeat of
St. Quentin, and he determined to make use of that
army of Swiss and Germans which the money of the
Parisians had raised. His design was to surprise Calais,
and thus not only punish queen Mary for espousing her
husband's quarrel, but achieve a feat for which the French
would assuredly be grateful, that of driving the English
from their last fortress on the Continent. It was cus-
tomary to weaken the garrison of Calais in the winter
months, when the overflowing x>f the marshes rendered
the town approachable only by a single causeway. De-
spite the warnings of king Philip, and of Wentworth
the governor, Calais was left with a garrison of merely
500 men. Guise fell suddenly upon it in January,
1558, took the external forts by assault, and then the
citadel : the town itself surrendered after a siege, or
rather attack, of eight days.
It now becomes necessary to recur to the history of
the reformation, since the reformers, as a party, hence-
forth began to influence not only the wishes of the
nation, and the remonstrances of parliament, but the
intrigues of the court itself. The protestants of Paris
had taken courage from the successful opposition of the
parliament to the edict establishing the independence of
ecclesiastical judges. The defeat of St. Quentin, and
the distress of the government, still more emboldened
them. Henry had ordained public processions in the
capital, in order to avert the wrath of Heaven, mani-
fested in the success of the enemy. The protestants
derided this mode of propitiating the Deity ; and, as if
to provoke comparison, celebrated their own simple rites
more openly. Four hundred of them met in the Rue
St. Jaques to celebrate the communion, and to hear one
of their noted preachers. Curiosity collected a crowd
of citizens of the old faith in the street. Zeal, by de-
grees, influenced them ; they menaced and besieged the
congregation within. The stoutest of the protestants.
286 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1558.
however, rushed forth, and the mob fled from them.
The women and the timid portion of the congregation
remained in the house of assembly. Some had come
prepared to pass the night there for concealment, as well
as to avoid traversing the city at a late hour. The crowd
again collected, and again besieged these unfortunate
beings : breaking in upon them at length, they beat and
abused them, until a force arrived to take the unfortu-
nate sectaries to prison. The most atrocious calumnies
were, as usual, circulated concerning their ceremonies of
worship. These were said to be licentious, and even dia-
bolical : all the crimes of the German anabaptists were at-
tributed to them ; and some paillasses, which a few of the
infirm and aged votaries had brought, being found, were
adduced as proofs that the new doctrines were merely a
pretext and a cloak for gross corruption of morals.
Among the prisoners government was astonished to
find a number of respectable persons, ladies of the
court, and even attendants on the queen ; a circumstance
that threw some suspicion on Catherine of Medicis. The
cardinal of Lorraine was wroth. Anxious to commit
the knot of heretics to the flames, he still feared that if
he sent them before the parliament many would be ac-
quitted. He therefore employed a certain judicial police
officer, technically called a lieutenant civil, named Mus-
nier, to try the prisoners summarily, and in the case of
an appeal to parliament, to act himself as reporter of the
case, which would necessarily tell against the accused.
The parliament opposed all these manoeuvres of the car-
dinal, and took the trial of the prisoners into their own
hands. The case against them was too clear, and the
popular feeling, which now declared itself in the capital
against the reformers, too strong to be resisted. The
parliament accordingly condemned five of the congrega-
tion of protestants to be burned in the Place de Greve.
The rest recovered their liberty.
While the duke of Guise was engaged in his expedi-
tion against Calais, Henry fulfilled his promise of con-
voking what he called the states-general, in Paris.
15inS. THE STATES-GENERAL CONVOKED. 28?
They wanted, nevertheless, the essential characteristic of
a national assembly, viz. representation. In lieu of
deputies, chosen expressly in the different provinces, and
sent with their usual store of grievances and instructions,
the mayors and sheriffs of the different great towns were
summoned to constitute the commons, or tiers etat. By
another innovation, the parliament of Paris, to whom
were joined the presidents of the provincial parliaments,
were constituted into a fourth estate, taking rank between
the noblesse and the commons. This was artful policy
on the part of the cardinal of Lorraine, who had especial
reasons for ingratiating himself with the parliament, and
winning it over to the views of the court. There was a
kind of precedent for the act, as in reality the judicial
body had formed a separate class in the assembly of
notables convened by Francis I., when the provost of
merchants and the sheriffs of Paris alone represented the
commons of the kingdom. It is easy to perceive how
this artifice of the court undermined the growing power
of the parliament, and deprived them for ever of the
pretence of representing the body of the people. Had
they understood their own interests, or been endowed
with sagacity to look into the future, they would have
considered it their highest privilege to be confounded
with the commons, and they would have defended it with
the stubbornness which they could display on more
trivial points. But vanity led them astray. It was for
their vanity that the court baited the hook, at which
they leaped : they considered themselves honoured by
being separated from the commons, and brought nearer
to the noblesse, with whom they afterwards succeeded
in getting themselves confounded. It was not, however,
with any profound views of undermining the parlia-
ment's authority that they were now nominally elevated
in grade ; it was for a purpose that will soon appear.
The assembly, replying to the king's message by its four
estates, thanked him in humble language : the address
of the judicial body was conveyed in the most high-
flown terms of gratitude; they made a grant of 3,000,000
288 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1558.
of crowns, a tax to be raised under the name of a loan.
The sum was partitioned among the different communal
districts, each mayor and municipality levying their por-
tion. Notwithstanding an express prayer of the commons,
the most rich and powerful, otherwise the nobles, found
means to be relieved from their share, thus throwing the
extraordinary supply, as they did the ordinary taille,
upon the shoulders of the people.
When this assembly of states-general, as the historians
of the time call it, or of notables, as modern writers will
have it, was dissolved, the reason for flattering the par-
liament became obvious. The king held a bed of justice
in that court, and proposed an edict for establishing an
inquisition, after the manner of Rome; the cardinals of
Lorraine, Bourbon, and Chatillon being the inquisitors.,
with full power to arrest, try, and condemn heretics.
The parliament were here taken by surprise. It was
ungracious to make resistance after the boon they had
received. Nevertheless they did demur, and so far mo-
dified the edict, as to abandon ecclesiastics altogether to
the jurisdiction of the inquisition, but to reserve still to
laymen the ancient and sacred privilege of appeal.
If schism could have been crushed, or put an end to
by violence, there was every cause for these severe edicts j
for it soon appeared that the most powerful men of the
kingdom had embraced the principles of Calvin. Great
jealousy rankled in the minds of the princes of the blood,
or rather of the house of Bourbon, to which the name
was confined. They were kept in a kind of disgrace,
without influence, and eclipsed by the Guises. The
eldest of the family had become king of Navarre, by
right of his wife. He resided in his dominions, and
there, in a provincial court, the emissaries of the re-
formation had insinuated themselves, unwatched, and
uncontrolled for the prelates of the kingdom universally
forsook their dioceses for the court and succeeded in
converting the king to the reformed faith. His brother,
the prince of Conde, followed the same example. Loyalty
or attachment to Henry might have prevented this step;
1559- HENRY'S CONDUCT TO DANDELOT. 289
but of this they were destitute. Jealousy of the duke of
Guise, and of the cardinal of Lorraine, was .their predo-
minant feeling.
It was incumbent on these princes to repair to the
capital in order to attend the marriage of the dauphin,
Francis, with Mary, the young queen of Scots, which
took place in the spring of 1558. They there gave
courage and countenance to the protestants who were
emboldened to assemble publicly in the open air, chaunt-
ing the psalms of Marot, and indulging in all the enthu-
siasm of heterodox devotion. A serious tumult occurred
on one occasion, and the parliament were obliged to
excuse themselves for not enquiring into it by avowing
the terror which the menaces of the protestants against
informers produced. It was reported to the king, pro-
bably by the Guises, that Dandelot, brother of Coligny,
was a convert to the new religion. Henry, who esteemed
Dandelot, sent for him to Monceaux, a palace belonging
to Catherine of Medicis. At supper the monarch took
an opportunity to address his guest in a solemn tone of
affection, warned him of the accusation, and begged of
him at once to deny it, arid exculpate himself. Dan-
delot was moved by the monarch's earnestness and friend-
ship, but nevertheless resolutely avowed his crsed, and
scrupled not to declare " the sacrifice of the mass an
abomination." Henry started up at the word, and
thrust Dandelot from him as a viper. He instantly or-
dered him to prison, and gave his place of colonel-gene-
ral of the infantry to Montluc. The pope on learning
this was delighted at the prospect of so illustrious a
person suffering at the stake. But Henry relented, and
used every effort to bend Dandelot, who at length con-
sented that mass should be said in his prison. He was
immediately liberated and restored to favour.
The family of Guise was now all powerful. The
duke, popular for his victories and his liberality, was
soon to be still more popular for his orthodoxy. The
constable, his nephew Coligny, and the marechal St.
Andre, were prisoners of Philip, and none at court dared
VOL. i. u
290 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 155Q.
to rival or oppose the duke of Guise and his brother the
cardinal. Such prosperity is apt to bring on the canker
of arrogance, which works its ruin. The duke failed in
the respect that he had hitherto paid to the duchess of
Valentinois. The mistress was not insensible to this,
and Guise had soon cause to regret his neglect. He took
the command of the army in May, and invested Thion-
ville, a fortress of Luxembourg, which he took. But the
French received about the same time a much more
serious check. The marechal de Termes, governor of
Calais, had invaded the literal of Flanders, and had
plundered Dunkirk. He thought proper, however, to
retreat before the count of Egmont. The delay caused
by the passage of the river Aa allowed the Spaniards
to come up with him near Gravelines, and to force him
to an action. It was fought with valour on both sides,
""Iffld with uncertain success, until some English vessels
of war, cruising off the coast, heard, and made sail to-
wards the quarter whence proceeded the reports of artil-
lery. Perceiving the engagement, the English ascended
the river with the tide, and placed themselves so as to
cannonade the French. The consequence was, their
complete defeat, a disaster that cut short all the san-
guine hopes of conquest entertained by the duke of Guise,
and opened the way for peace.
The king regretted Montmorency, son bon compere,
f< his good gossip," as he used to call him. The arrogance
of Guise, the imperiousness of the cardinal of Lorraine
disgusted him ; and the duchess of Valentinois now took
care to aggravate his dislike. Henry kept up a familiar
correspondence with the constable, and informed him
of passing events, not disdaining to act as a kind of spy,
betraying the petty intrigues and views of the Guises.
The constable panted for his liberty, and resolved to
make use of his influence to obtain it. He was liber-
ated on parole. There was a cessation of hostilities ;
and commissioners met at Cercamp to arrange the con-
ditions of a treaty. The Spaniards presumed on Mont-
morency's influence, united with his desire to be free.
1559- PEACE OF CHATEAU CAMBRESIS. 201
Their demands were exorbitant ; and the constable re-
turned to prison. Not long after, however, we find him
with the court at Beauvais, celebrating the marriage of
one of his sons with the grand-daughter of the duchess
of Valentinois. Negotiations for peace were not relaxed.
The ransom of the constable was fixed at 200,000
crowns; but it was to be diminished by one half, if peace
should be concluded through his medium, a stipulation
that leaves somewhat like a stain on Montmorency's
honour.
By the peace of Chateau Cambresis, signed April,
1559, France ceded all her conquests and claims in Italy
and Savoy. She restored Luxembourg and the Charolois.
In return she kept Metz, Toul, and Verdun, and what
was more important than all, Calais ; the restitution of
which, when Philip no longer insisted on, Elizabeth, the
new queen of England, was in no state to make good.
This peace, inveterately opposed by the Guises, and
cried down by their partisans, is generally condemned
by historians, who have taken up the cry as injurious to
France. Her interests, say they, were sacrificed to the
freedom of her superannuated constable. In this respect
they exaggerate, wilfully putting Calais out of consi-
deration, which was ceded more by Philip than by the
English. The treaty was sealed as usual by marriages.
Emmanuel Philibert, the hero of St. Quentin, and
now the restored duke of Savoy, espoused the king's
sister. His daughter Elizabeth, once the destined bride
of the infant of Spain, was given to that prince's father,
Philip ; and Claude, another princess, was betrothed
to the duke of Lorraine.
Had the life and reign of Henry II., destined to be
of not much longer duration, closed here, he would have
left the character of a severe but not a perfidious prince.
As yet, the noble sentiments, the chivalric feeling of
good faith, that Francis I. had professed and rendered
popular, prevailed. Neither Henry in all his weakness,
nor his ministers in ah 1 their ambition and mutual quar-
rels, had forgotten the plain laws of manly uprightness
u 2
292 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1559'
and honour. These were destined soon to be forgotten.
To be brave, candid, generous, loyal, soon ceased to be
the mode. The volumes of chivalry were soon thrown
aside as puerile, and Machiavel was studied in their
place. Another ideal of perfection, and another model
of conduct, were established. By it dissimulation, cun-
ning, and fraud, provided they proved successful, were
declared to be the most estimable qualities. Superiority
of intellect was measured by depth of guile. All moral
considerations were of course set aside. The end was
in every case found to justify the means, however base;
and, as a natural consequence of such views, the end
that each politician proposed to attain by these extreme
measures soon dwindled down into mere self-interest.
No where, in fact, can be pointed out so sudden and
complete a change of national character as that which
took place in France at this epoch. The contemporaries
of Francis I. seem separated by centuries from the men
who figured in the days of his grandson : even the same
men present different characters m the two epochs. The
Guise of Henry II.'s reign is not the Guise of Charles IX.
What effected this sad change? Religion, Catholicism,
it must be answered : the established faith of Rome,
and its supporters, who finding that the common weapons
of reason and justice would not suffice to crush reform,
and that the common principles of religion and morality
could not be brought to bear against it, perverted both,
more, if possible, than they had already perverted them
in the iniquitous contest.
The act of Henry II., now about to be narrated, is the
first flagrant outrage against honour, the first open demon-
stration of Machiavelisin, and may well mark the point of
juncture between the two epochs, the substitution of
the law of fraud for the law of honour. The treaty
between Philip and Henry was not concluded without a
solemn agreement between the monarchs, sufficiently un-
necessary, indeed, considering their character, for extir-
pating heresy. The great obstacle in Paris was the
apathy or leniency of the parliament. Many of the
1550. BED OP JUSTICE. 293
members were supposed to favour the reformation ; but
how were they to be discovered? The cardinal of Lorraine
conceived a plan for this purpose. It by no means be-
spoke a want of cunning. The only wonder is, how he
could persuade the king to become the instrument of such
baseness. But sacerdotal reasoning in such cases is
conclusive.
Henry, accompanied by the great officers of his court,
proceeded unexpectedly to the hall of parliament: he
took his seat, to the great astonishment of the members,
and formed what he called a bed of justice : he then,
hi a tone of the utmost kindness and condescension,
announced to them that he came merely to ask the advice
of the sage members of his parliament on an important
matter, viz. a due treatment of heresy. He urged all
present to offer~thelr~several opinions. They unsuspect-
ingly obeyed him. Those of the highest consideration,
the presidents Harlai, Seguier, and De Thou, boldly and
generously avowed their sentiments in favour of tolera-
tion ; professing .at the same time their attachment to the
faith of their fathers, but declaring that they deemed it
equally impolitic and unjust to punish the errors of
thought or the misgivings of conscience. The zealots,
on the other hand, recommended persecution, and cried
out for blood. Two counsellors, however, excited most
attention, by openly avowing their predilection for the
new opinions. These were Louis Faur and Anne
Dubourg. The latter complained, that whilst men were
dragged to the stake for simply praying to their God,
the orthodox were busied in blasphemy, perjury,
debauch, and adultery. The last words, though levelled
at the cardinal, were instantly referred to the king. His
anger instantly overcame his dissimulation. He ordered
Montgomery, captain of his guards, to arrest the two
counsellors and drag them to prison. The parliament saw
the trap which had been laid for them, and trembled.
Faur and Dubourg were both hanged. Several judges
were arrested, while others took flight.
A very short time after this a festival took place in
u 3
29* HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1559-
honour of the late royal marriages. A tournament was
Henry's chosen pastime, and one was prepared in the
Rue St. Antoine on this occasion. The king and the
duke of Guise were among those who held the -lists
against all comers. They were victorious. The monarch
especially had signalised his address, and no new adven-
turer appeared. Henry, however, wished for more of
the game, and accordingly ordered Montgomery to
break a lance with him. The stout captain obeyed.
The king and he ran together : their lances shivered in
the shock, when a splinter penetrating Henry's vizor,
inflicted a deep wound over his left eye. He was imme-
diately carried to his palace, where he lingered for twelve
days, and expired on the 10th of July, 1559- Mont-
gomery, the innocent cause of the disaster, thought it
prudent to fly. He was taken some years after, and
executed by the cruel Catherine of Medicis, in most un-
just retribution.
The character of Henry was neither so distinctly
pronounced nor so peculiar as to require a delineation
separate from his reign. He wanted the splendid qua-
lities of his parent, nor did he compensate for that want
by more solid qualities. In the bustle, the feats, and
the reverses of the reign of Francis, we are apt to over-
look his policy, or forget that he had any, until the reign
of his son places in strong contrast his prudence in
maintaining the ascendancy over his ministers, and keep-
ing himself superior to court intrigue. Henry allowed
himself to be so overcome and controlled by favouritism
and arrogance, that we can never look for causes in
his individual will or views. These were lost in the
stronger wills of the chiefs who surrounded him. He
was more of a bigot than Francis, as Philip was more
of a bigot than Charles, and for the same reason. The
priesthood that had their part in the education of the
princes inspired them from the cradle with an abhor-
rence for heretics, which could not have been acquired
by their sires without being tempered with the expe-
rience of manhood. Yet Henry did not deal generally
1559- ACCESSION OF FRANCIS n. 295
in bloodshed like his father. The population of a whole
province was not extirpated in his reign. Even to his
last mean and culpable deceit, the bed of justice, he was
absolutely forced by the cardinal of Lorraine, " who
held to him such language," said Vieilleville, "such com-
minations of the ire of God, that he esteemed himself
already damned if he forbore to go."
CHAP. VIII.
15591574.
FRANCIS THE SECOND AND CHARLES THE NINTH.
IF the late king, of a character naturally masculine, was
overborne and nullified by the nobles his contemporaries,
who divided the court, it is not to be supposed that his
son, Francis II., a youth of sixteen, could really hold
much authority. The thoughts of the young monarch
were all centred in his lovely queen, Mary of Scotland,
who, fond of gaiety and pleasure, naturally transferred
to her uncles of Guise and Lorraine the influence per-
taining to her new dignity : they, in fact, became com-
plete masters of king and kingdom. Montmorency,
received coldly, was allowed once more to retire to
Chantilly. The duchess of Valentinois was also exiled ;
her jewels and estates were confiscated in favour of
Catherine of Medicis, who, contented with this triumph
over her rival, did not yet dare to dispute the ascend-
ancy of Guise. The neglect of the court that had
weighed on the princes of the blood, the king of Navarre
and his brother of Conde, was now aggravated by insult.
The family were, however, of a tranquil, generous tem-
per, brave indeed, but very unfit for conspiracies and for
court intrigue. The king of Navarre was apathetic and
fond of ease ; the prince of . Conde was given to plea-
sure. The nephews of Montmorency, Coligny the
u 4
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
admiral, and Dandelot, were not of this pacific dis-
position : they were indignant at their uncle's disgrace,
and discontented with their own. Communicating their
griefs to the Bourbons, they stirred the dormant passions
of those princes, and imparted to them their own rest-
less and ambitious spirit. Conde, in particular, was
won by Coligny, a man of a bold and imposing cha-
racter. They consulted how best they might humble the
Guises, and dispossess them of power: the malcontents
were all inclined to the reformation, except Montmorency.
They resolved to take advantage of this important cir-
cumstance, and place themselves at the head of a reli-
gious faction hostile to the court : this was unfortunate
for France. The cause of civil liberty had been be-
trayed and lost in the reigns of Charles V. and VI. by
the princes of the blood, who put themselves at the head
of the popular parties, and confounded the interests of
the people with their own. Now religious freedom was
doomed to perish in the same manner. Instead of being
allowed to make gradual progress in the public mind till
it had assumed force to command respect and conquer
intolerance, it was prematurely excited to revolt by the
intrigues of discontented princes. A conspiracy against
royalty became the first act of protestantism in France ;
and thus hundreds of loyal subjects and rational minds
were alienated from it, and their dislike was strength-
ened by prejudice. The court, with some reason, hence-
forth declared against it an eternal war.
Many of the noblesse had already joined the party of
Coligny and of Conde, though the king of Navarre and
the constable hesitated and held back. La Rochefou-
cault, Jarnac, and the vidame de Chartres declared for
them. An atrocious impertinence on the part of the
cardinal of Lorraine, opportunely occurring, swelled this
band of foes to the Guises. Tormented by demands,
some for debts due, and some for places promised, the
all-powerful prelate in a fit of spleen published a pro-
clamation by sound of trumpet, ordering all petitioners,
of whatever rank, to quit Fontainebleau, where the court
156'0. MEETINGS OF THE PROTESTANT PARTY. 2$7
then was, without delay, and this under pain of being
hanged. The cardinal, perhaps, meant to be facetious ;
for the court instantly became a desert. The host of
noble suitors, proud though mendicant, could not forgive
the threat, and many joined the discontented.
The party had numerous meetings in the chateau of
Vendome, and in other places. La Renaudie, a gentle-
man of Perigord, and an agent of Coligny, was employed
by him to be the ostensible leader. A meeting was
secretly convened at Nantes, where the protestants and
enemies of Guise united to the number of 600, and
took counsel together. It was agreed to attack Blois,
where the king then was, obtain possession of his per-
son, and get rid of the odious Guises. Amongst such a
host of conspirators secrecy was almost impossible : the
duke received warning of the plot, and removed the
court to the castle of Amboise. The cardinal of Lor-
raine was terrified: he proposed to summon the ban and
arriere-ban, and gather an army against the rebels. All
the anxiety of Guise, on the contrary, was, that his ene-
mies should show themselves ; and for that purpose he
affected confidence. Coligny and Conde both repaired to
Amboise, where Guise received them without betraying
the least mark of suspicion, and he appointed them to
different posts of defence about the castle ; each, how-
ever, watched by his own trusty partisans. The rising
had been appointed for the 15th of March: it took
place on the 1 6'th : the baron of Castelnau seizing the
castle of Noize, not far from Amboise. La Renaudie
was marching to join him : they hoped to surprise the
court ; when on a sudden the royal troops sent by Guise
made their appearance, attacked la Renaudie, slew him,
and besieged Noize.
An amnesty was now published in the hope of allay-
ing the insurrection : but, as if in contempt of it, the
chateau of Amboise was attacked on that very night.
All the vigilance and valour of Guise were required to
repel the rebels. By secret information he had time
to prepare for them, and they were routed. The am-
298 . HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1560.
nesty was revoked, and no mercy was shown to the
captives. Twelve hundred of them were hanged, or
otherwise despatched : even Castelnau, who had surren-
dered on the faith of the duke of Nemours, was executed
in the presence of the court. In the confessions forced
from many by the torture, none of the real chiefs of the
conspiracy were mentioned except the prince of Conde.
History is even in doubt to decide if those chiefs were
concerned in the attack: the protestant party will not admit
that they by this rash and unwarrantable act produced the
civil war. Conde was brought to trial in presence of
the court : he disdained to defend himself but as a
knight. " Let my accuser appear," said he, regarding
Guise, " and I will prove upon him, in single combat,
that he is the traitor, not I, and that he is the true
enemy of the king and of the monarchy." Guise rose
to reply to this challenge : " I can "no longer suffer
these dark suspicions to weigh upon so valiant a prince ;
I myself will be his second in the combat against who-
ever accuses him." Most of those present were as per-
plexed, as no doubt the reader is, to comprehend this
conduct in the duke of Guise. Some called it chivalric
generosity, others the perfection of guile.
In the trouble excited by the conspiracy, the young
king, for the first time, manifested an opinion of his
own. He was shocked at finding himself the object of
hatred, and he began to mistrust the Guises. The queen-
mother, Catherine, after the example of her son, also
took courage ; and the chancellor Olivier, as well as
Vieilleville and other courtiers, joined her party. Hence
arose the first amnesty, a concession on the part of the
Guises which was recompensed by the duke's appoint-
ment as lieutenant-general of the kingdom. The exe-
cutions which followed, especially that of Castelnau,
which the court witnessed, shocked the princesses (the
cardinal Lorraine hoped that the sight of heretic blood
would have had an opposite effect), and they, with the
young queen Mary, flung themselves into the scale of
mercy. Guise was unable to resist this influence : he
1560. THE STATES- GENERAL SUMMONED. 2 99
saw that the prince of Concle must in consequence be
released, and he sought to take to himself full credit for a
generosity that was forced upon him. Here then Catherine
of Medicis, for the first time, appears as the leader of a
party. Notwithstanding our prejudices against her, she
appears also, on this first occasion, as the supporter of
mercy.
The continued mistrust and independence of the
Guises shown on the part of the queen-mother and the
young king produced an assembly of notables, summoned
soon afterwards at Fontainebleau to take the affairs of the
kingdom into consideration. In it the protestant leaders,
even prelates, spoke openly the apology for reformation ;
and Coligny demanded tolerance for the sectarians, re-
lying upon the neutrality of the court. Guise could no
longer command his temper, as he did at Amboise :
mutual recrimination and menaces were heard in the
assembly of peace. Both parties struggled in their dis-
courses to convince the monarch of the justice and
expediency of their counsels; but the weakness and
indecision of the court was at the same time seen by
both ; and an appeal of equal earnestness was made by
them to the people. The protestants continually cried
out for the states-general, and a national council. And
now the cardinal of Lorraine forgot his nature so far as
to join in the cry, and make the same demand. The
independent attitude of the queen rather forced the
Guises to strengthen themselves by popularity.
Such appear the true reasons why the states-general
were summoned to meet at Orleans, in October, 1560.
Historians in general perceive in them merely a snare to
catch the protestant chiefs. They served that purpose
indeed, but they had been already summoned ere Conde,
just released, could have recommenced his intrigues.
The arrogance and boldness of the protestants, and of
Coligny, in the assembly of notables at Fontainebleau,
were revolting to Catherine and Francis. Between
August, when that assembly was held, and October,
the period for the assembling of the states, the Guises
300 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1 566.
had completely won the court to themselves, and re-
gained their influence. The prince of Conde attempted
during that interval to seize Lyons, and convert it into
a strong hold of rebellion. He failed, however ; and his
traitorous enterprise became thoroughly known at court.
Notwithstanding this, the brothers of Bourbon, the king
of Navarre, and the prince, were induced to join the
assembly of the states. Though full of mistrust, they
still ventured on the secret favour or neutrality of
Catherine, who joined in enticing them to come. They
were ill received by the king. Catherine was troubled,
and shed tears on beholding them, knowing them to be
victims betrayed by their confidence in her. The king's
mind had been filled with the bitterest calumnies against
them : he accused Conde of having attempted his life,
and ended by committing that prince to prison. The
king of Navarre instantly complained, and expostulated
with the queen-mother j but she could not now retract
the consent she had given, or unbend the mind of the
young monarch. Conde was tried by a commission,
and refusing to answer, was condemned to death. The
day was appointed for the execution, and Catherine of
Medicis betrayed to all who approached the agony ami
misgivings of her mind. Historians will maintain that
this sensibility on the part of Catherine was affected :
they think, with Davila, that it would be a dishonour, or
at least an inconsistency, in the queen, that she should
have felt a particle of the natural tenderness of her sex,
even in the commencement of her political career. I
beg to think that she was sincere in now wishing to
save the life of Conde ; and fortune placed this in her
power. The young king was stricken with sudden ill-
ness, arising, it is supposed, from the formation of an
abscess in his head. The supreme authority rested with
the queen-mother. The Guises urged her to execute
the sentence upon Conde ; but she hesitated, and
resolved to save him. She determined, however, to turn
her mercy to advantage ; summoning the king of Navarre,
she offered to spare the life of his brother, provided
1560. ACCESSION OF CHARLES ix. 301
he signed an agreement renouncing all claim to the re-
gency in case of the young king's death. Navarre signed ;
and Francis II. expired on the 5th of December, 1 560.
Charles IX., a boy ten years of age, now succeeded
his brother Francis. Catherine of Medicis, according to
her promise, liberated the prince of Conde ; and as the
king of Navarre, according to his promise, supported the
queen's pretensions, she took upon her .the office of
regent. The Guises, though shorn of their paramount
influence, and mortified by the escape of Conde, were
still formidable as a party. To make the balance more
even, Catherine recalled to court the veteran constable,
Montmorency. Nothing could be more successful or
happy than the policy of this princess hitherto, nor was
it as yet made subservient to her own cruel measures :
her interest as well as that of the kingdom recommended
to her a middle course, between the extremes of con-
tending parties. This was a task that required infinite
prudence, and led to the necessary vices of dissimulation
and guile : these, combined with the measures of blood
in which she was afterwards induced to join, have ren-
dered her in the eyes of posterity a very monster of cruelty
and deceit. Her enemies have exaggerated their represent-
ations from hate ; her friend and secretary, Davila, has
done the same from a preposterous desire to raise the in-
tellectual character of his mistress at the expense of her
moral worth. Whatever differences there may be on this
point, there can be none as to the talents of Catherine :
her choice of followers is an ample proof of them. One
of the first uses she made of her incipient influence was
to raise de 1'Hopital to the chancellorship, against the
wishes of Guise ; and when we record that this upright
man was now her friend and counsellor, the fact goes
far to prove, that she was not at this early stage such a
demon of guile as she has been represented.
There is no task more impracticable than that of
holding the balance between two zealous and active par-
ties. The states now assembled leaned against the
Guises. The king of Navarre proposed, as a measure
302 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1561.
of offence, to extinguish the debts of the crown, now
considerable, by resuming the grants of the two last
reigns. This blow was chiefly aimed at the Guises,
but it also reached the marechal St. Andre and the
constable. -Catherine in vain endeavoured to stifle the
imprudent proposal. Montmorency was avaricious : he
felt himself in the same predicament with Guise, in being
forced to render up his acquisitions. Sympathy united
them. The constable abandoned the party of his
nephews, and also that of the reformation to which he ever
had a repugnance ; and thus was formed, of the constable,
the marechal, and Guise, a triumvirate that disquieted
Catherine and menaced the protestants. The queen
immediately determined to strengthen the protestant
side; and an edict appeared, granting them some slight
favour, and substituting the pain of banishment for that
of death in common cases of heresy. The Guises, on
their part, having secured the constable, and opened a
communication with Spain, resolved no longer to trouble
themselves with petty court intrigue, but leaving Ca-
therine to pursue her o.wn plans, waited till some fla-
grant blunder of hers would afford them an opportunity
to interfere with advantage. The queen took the quiet
and apparent content of the Guises to be real. She
proposed an accommodation between the duke and Conde,
which took place in form, the princes separating as ene-
mies no less bitter than before. The queen then flat-
tered herself that all went on admirably. In concert
with her counsellor, de 1'Hopital, she pursued, and
sincerely pursued, the beneficent work of establishing
religious peace and toleration. The divines of both
persuasions met at Poissy. The cardinal of Lorraine
and Theodore Beza disputed, and, as usual, separated
each more bigoted than he was when he came. A de-
putation from the different parliaments met at the same
time at St. Germain. Under the influence of the chan-
cellor they approved of toleration ; and, strengthened
by their approval, the government issued the famous
edict of January, 1562, granting tolerance to the Hu*
15G1. CIVIL WAR. 303
guenots, and allowing them to assemble outside the walls
of towns.
This was the signal for the Guises. They departed
from the capital in indignation, and retired to Lorraine,
that they might not be witnesses of the triumph of he-
resy. While Catherine had been engaged in her phi-
lanthropic endeavours at toleration, they were not idly
employed in winning over to their side the weak-minded
king of Navarre. Catherine, on other occasions, had
courted him, and long held him by the charms of one
of her maids of honour, a culpable mode of influence
much practised by the queen-mother. At the present
conjuncture she could not have suspected that Anthony
of Bourbon, unfixed as he was in his religious opinions,
could desert his brother, his family, and the Huguenot
party, with which he had so long acted. But the pro-
mise of their restoring that part of Navarre beyond the
Pyrenees, which Spain had conquered, was held out by
tbft_jjiiises. ajid Philip; and the king was dupe enough to
trust to it.
-Th"e"two parties were by this time excited throughout
France to the highest pitch of mutual exasperation. Al-
ready, numbers of petty insurrections, skirmishes, mur-
ders, the usual preludes to civil war, had occurred.
The court having retired to the queen's country-house
of Monceaux, the duke of Guise determined to try the
pulse of the Parisian population; and for that purpose
set out thither. During his journey an event occurred,
which fell like a spark upon the combustible minds of
the Huguenots, and served as a signal for war. In pass-
yig through the little town of Vassy, on the borders of
Champagne, at an hour when the protestants were as-
sembled, outside the walls according to the edict, in
prayer, the duke felt especially indignant : his suite
partook of his resentment, and began to insult the crowd.
From insults, blows ensued. The duke ran to quell
or to see the disturbance, and was struck in the cheek.
The sight of his blood called forth fresh anger on the
part of his followers: troops joined him; and a mas-
304 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 156l.
sacre of the unfortunate inhabitants of Vassy took place,
which the duke was either unable or unwilling to stop.
The protestants were aroused by accounts of this event.
They began, however, by sending a deputation to the
queen. The king of Navarre, in his stupid zeal, insulted
them, and excused the massacre. Theodore Beza an-
swered him, with a happy allocution, " that the protest-
ants, if they could not defend themselves, had, at least,
the strength to endure ; and that religious liberty was an
anvil which had worn put many hammers."
The entry of the duke of Guise excited the greatest
enthusiasm among the Parisians. They declared with
one voice against the Huguenots ; and he was now as-
sured that catholic opinion would find a fortress in the
capital. Their demonstrations of zeal were so extreme,
that Catherine of Medicis thought it best to retire to
Melun, and thence to Fontainebleau. But even here she
was not safe. The triumvirate marched to Fontaine-
bleau, and brought back the king and the queen-mother
to Paris. The prince of Conde at the news took posses-
sion of Orleans, summoned his partisans, and made that
town the head-quarters of the Huguenots, as the capital
was of the catholics. In the south and west of France,
the Huguenots had the advantage ; these provinces de-
clared for them. The superiority of the catholics con-
sisted in the possession of the king, the x capital, and the
greater part of the regular troops. There was still a he-
sitation in commencing the war. Catherine, who clung
tenaciously to power, and who, in order to retain it,
now joined, or affected to join, the triumvirate, tried to
negotiate with Conde. The prince was weak enough to
listen to her ; but his followers would not allow of his
becoming a dupe. Dandelot uttered a piece of advice,
that might be true of any quarrels save religious dis-
putes. " We can never be friends with the catholics,"
said he, "till we fight our quarrel out." Unhappily,
it was not by combat, but by massacre, that the war
commenced. The Huguenots took Beaugenci, and com-
mitted every atrocity: their enemies retaliated; and
1561. BATTLE OF DREUX. 305
hus a religious war at once assumed all that savage
character which usually distinguishes it. At the same
time the prince of Conde', to counterbalance the aid
which Philip of Spain now openly held out to the Guises,
concluded a treaty with queen Elizabeth, to whom he
delivered Havre de Grace in return for a corps of 6000
men.
The catholics opened the campaign in the autumn with
the siege of Rouen, where Montgomeri commanded. The
chiefs would not lose sight of Catherine and the king,
who accordingly accompanied them ; and the queen,
surrounded by gaiety and beauty, showed every sign of
contentment and zealous orthodoxy. The town was vi-
gorously attacked and gallantly defended. Many women
of the protestants were slain. In one of the assaults,
Anthony of Bourbon, king of Navarre, received a wound
which proved mortal. This weak prince, slain in the
ranks of the catholics, left an infant son, who, under the
care of his mother, Jeanne d'Albret, was reared to be the
support and glory of the protestant cause. This infant
was the future Henry IV. Rouen at length surrendered,
Montgomeri escaped ; but ten of the principal hugue-
not inhabitants were executed. Conde used reprisals
at Orleans ; and thus the parties warred, each spilling
blood upon scaffolds of its own erection.
The prince, however, having received a reinforcement
of 7000 Germans under his brother Dandelot, at length
marched out of Orleans. He first insulted the capital,
burning the villages in its vicinity, and then turned to-
wards Normandy, in order to draw near to the English.
He was followed by the constable; and the first battle
was fought on the 19th of December, at Dreux. The
principal force of Conde was in cavalry, his infantry
being chiefly Germans, a circumstance which indicates
that it was among the middling class, or the wealthy
burgesses, that the soldiers of the reformation were re-
cruited. Vieilleville corroborates this. The royal army
was composed chiefly of infantry, in number about
1 8,000, and in this respect superior to the enemy. The
VOL. i. x
306 HISTORY OF FHAXCE. 1562.
two armies contemplated each other for a considerable
time, till at last Conde, with the courage of a captain,
but with none of the method or foresight of the general,
fell upon the main body under the constable. He routed
it after an obstinate struggle, in which the Swiss, of whom
it was chiefly composed, rallied at each opportunity. The
constable, however, was taken, and led off the field,
Guise, who was on the right, never moving to his suc-
cour. The duke waited until the huguenots were com-
pletely wearied and exhausted with the resistance of the
Swiss, and then advanced with his fresh division to
restore the action. This he effected with the utmost
success. The undisciplined cavalry of Conde were in
total disorder ; Guise swept them before him, and took the
prince prisoner. The admiral Coligny made good his
retreat, however, with the Germans, and rallied the
fugitives. The marechal St. Andre, in endeavouring
to harass him, was taken and slain. The singularity
of the battle of Dreux was, that each of the two generals
became prisoner to the opposite party. Guise gained
both ways ; not less by the removal of the constable,
whose rank entitled him always to the superior com-
mand, than by the captivity of Conde. This prince
was treated with the utmost generosity by his rival :
they shared the same tent, the same bed ; and while
Conde remained wakeful from the strangeness of his
position, Guise, he declared, enjoyed the most profound
sleep. There were, indeed, heroic traits about the duke
of Guise, that mark him to have been naturally of a
generous and noble disposition. It appears that, espe-
cially when in arms and away from his brother, he
could shake off the hard-heartedness, the guile, and even
the ambition, which in the cabinet rose to stifle every
better quality. But we are now engaged with scenes
and men that would demand, if full justice were to be
done to them, the amplest page of history. Guise fol-
lowed up his victories by laying siege to Orleans.
While he was engaged in reducing this strong hold
of his enemies a huguenot gentleman named Poltrot
1563. EDICT OF ABIBOISE. 307
treacherously shot the duke with his pistol. He lingered
nine days, and expired with exemplary fortitude and
piety. He was a brave and great man, with such power
of nerve and concentrated pride, that, notwithstanding
his equivocal rank in France, the stern constable himself
and the princes of the blood quailed before him. His
virtues were his own ; his vices those of his party. The
death and captivity of the chiefs on both sides, Coh'gny
excepted, necessarily brought on an accommodation.
Peace was declared ; and the edict of Amboise, issued
in March, 1563, granted full liberty of worship to the
protestants within the towns of which they were in
possession up to that day. Thus ended the first religious
war, which, in addition to the events we have recorded,
deluged the entire south of France with the blood of
the contending parties.
The conclusion of peace restored Catherine of Medicis
to the supreme authority. In order to exercise it under
a less invidious title than that of regent, the parliament
of Rouen, by her order, declared king Charles, now
thirteen years of age, to have attained his majority.
Reared by the crafty and prudent Catherine, he early
acquired, in perfection, the power of dissimulation ; but
he never imbibed that utter indifference to both religious
parties which distinguishedhis mother, and which allowed
her to consult her own interest or the public good in leagu-
ing with either, or in balancing and alternating between
them. On the contrary, Charles, thrown among the
catholic party at an age when a bias is soon and strongly
gained, amidst the bustle of war and of a camp, which
pleased him, soon imbibed the zeal of the partisans of
Guise. He had the sagacity to perceive that orthodoxy
was much more favourable than the doctrines of the
reformers to his kingly authority. A worse effect on
his character was produced by sights of cruelty ; for at
this tender age he beheld the atrocities practised on the
protestants at the siege of Rouen, and during the cam-,
paign. The young king was thus led to adopt, in hip
x 2
308 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1563.
sober counsels, the sanguinary measures that the heat of
war engendered but could not excuse.
This decision of her son in favour of the catholics
had a very great influence in finally drawing over Ca-
therine to that party. Other causes also impelled her :
the catholics were without leaders; there was a place,
therefore, for her at their head : and, in a little time,
the pope and Philip of Spain both declared so strongly
against the protestants, that the queen was driven, from
a principle of self-preservation, to adopt the winning
side. This abandonment of her impartiality, Catherine,
however, delayed as long as it was in'her power. After
the conclusion of peace, she endeavoured to soothe Conde,
and win him over to moderate demands; thus preparing
the way for an accommodation. Conde was a man of
pleasure, prone to indolence, in which he gladly indulged
whenever an interval occurred in war or in business.
Catherine held out to him her usual bait, the charms of
her maids of honour ; and Conde loitered, like another
Rinaldo, in the toils of this Armida, until the ministers
of the reformed religion recalled him from licentiousness
and compelled him to marry. These stern disciplin-
arians were said to have hanged one of their flock for
the crime of adultery. This alone was enough to alien-
ate the courtiers of France and the demoiselles of Ca-
therine.
The edict of Amboise had not long been issued, when
a modification of it was found necessary. That edict
had allowed to the protestants the celebration of their
worship in towns which they possessed. It was found
that several bishops and clergy, construing its terms in
their favour, had established the new rites in their cathe-
drals and churches. This would have outraged the pope
and the catholic princes. Indeed, notwithstanding the
clamours of the protestants, so great a concession was
not to be expected ; and accordingly the privilege was
withdrawn. The ancient cathedrals were not allowed
to become temples of the reformed religion. New differ-
ences consequently arose : the Guises accused Coligny of
1564. EDICT OF ROUSSILLON. 309
instigating the murder of the duke ; and the admiral
arrived to answer the charge with his suite, which almost
amounted to an army. Either Catherine or Charles
himself took this opportunity of increasing the usual
royal guard of 100 Swiss, into upwards of 1000 men.
The old constable came to instigate the Parisians, and
a tumult ensued, in which lives were lost.
In the following year, 1564, the young king resolved
on making a progress through his dominions, especially
in the south. The cardinal of Lorraine went to Rome
at the same time, and Charles was met at Bayonne by
his sister, the queen of Spain, and the duke of Alva.
This meeting, in which the minister of Philip commu-
nicated the views of his master, completed in the mind
of Charles his hatred of the reformation, and instructed
him concerning the means by which it might be event-
ually crushed. The edict of Roussillon *, which ap-
peared while the court was in the south, imposed new
restrictions on the toleration granted by that of Amboise j
so that, as Pasquier observes, " edicts took more from
the protestants in peace than force could take from
them in war." The huguenots, therefore, despairing
of impartiality or justice from the court, began already
to look forward to another struggle.
During this state of things an assembly of notables
was held at Moulins. Catherine, who, notwithstanding
her sagacity, very ofteii mistook the form for the reality,
insisted on a public reconciliation between the Guises
and Coligny. It took place at her bidding ; the cardinal
and the admiral embraced; but young Henry duke of
Guise showed even there, by his cold and mistrustful
demeanour, that his first ideas were those of vengeance
and hatred. It was in this assembly, that the chancellor
de 1'Hopital proposed his improvements in the admin-
istration of justice. Whilst all others, prince, noble,
and functionary, were absorbed in the spirit of religious
party, de 1'Hopital alone, professing at once Catholicism
* It was this edict which ordered that the year should commence on the
1st of January, instead of, as heretofore, commencing at Easter.
x 3
310 HISTORY OF FRAXCE. 1567-
and tolerance, but unable to obtain attention, followed
the unambitious track of judicial amelioration.
Religious troubles, similar to those of France, began
to agitate the Low Countries. Philip, resolving to pre-
sent a high example to France, established the inquisi-
tion among his Belgic subjects in all its vigour ; and as
this only made matters worse, the duke of Alva was
despatched to those provinces with an army in 1567-
The French court affected to fear this force, and raised
an army as if against it. When the duke of Alva,
however, appeared on the frontiers of France, he was
treated as a friend ; and the huguenots immediately
perceived that the troops were levied, not for the defence
of the kingdom, but for the oppression of themselves.
They accordingly leagued and armed in secret, deter-
mined to meet the perfidy of the court with correspond-
ent guile. Their consultations ended in a project to
surprise the court at Monceaux, and get possession of
the king. It failed, however, as the similar plot had
previously failed at Amboise, through the postponement
of a single day. The queen had warning ; the Swiss
were summoned ; and the court retired to Meaux, and
from thence to Paris, pursued and menaced by the dis-
appointed Cond^.
Thus commenced the second religious war, in Sep-
tember, 1567- " Catherine," says Renault, " caused
the first civil strife by favouring the reformers, and the
second by irritating them." She was now at least zea-
lously hostile to them. She had been provoked by the
numerous calumnies and libels which the huguenots di-
rected against her, and she cordially joined in the opinions
of her young son, and of his and her ally, Philip. She
no longer sought an habitual adviser in the moderate de
1'Hopital, who was of opinion that the reformers were
unfairly treated. The chancellor always asserted their
loyalty. After their attempt to surprise Meaux, the
queen asked de 1'Hopital " Would he now answer
that their sole aim was to serve the king ?" " Yes,
1567- SECOND RELIGIOUS WAR. 311
rnadam," replied he, " if you assure me that they will
be treated with good faith."
Conde took up his quarters at St. Denis. The ca-
tholics under Montmoreucy were posted at La Chapelle,
a village that is now the suburb of Paris on that side.
The constable wished as usual to procrastinate, but the
impatience of the Parisians forced him to attack. The
battle was fought in the plain of St. Denis : it began
with a cannonade ; but the huguenots, to avoid the
destructive effects of the artillery, charged the Parisians
furiously, and routed them. Their flight left the con-
stable unsupported ; Conde turned on him his victorious
cavalry, and Montmorency defended his position, when
Stuart, the captain of the Scotch company in the service
of the huguenots, coming up close to the constable,
against whom he had cause of hate, fired his pistol and
shot him. A furious and confused melee, somewhat
like an Homeric fight, immediately took place around
the dead body of the constable the huguenots with
savage zeal seeking to carry it off. They were beaten,
however, and driven from the field in the attempt.
Thus fell, in civil strife, and engaged against his own
nephews, the veteran warrior of France. His years, his
hardihood, and his name, have rendered him deservedly
celebrated. His defence of Provence against Charles V.
is particularly memorable. By French historians he is
characterised in terms of the highest encomium : they
commend his sternness, his courage, his orthodoxy, and
forget that avarice and selfishness sullied and almost
neutralised each of his virtues.
The constable's death was a victory to Conde, who
was able to offer battle to the catholics on the following
day. He denied having lost that of St. Denis. Young
Charles, who was witness to a dispute on this point,
asked Vieilleville "who had won the battle?"
" Neither catholic nor protestant," responded the mare-
chal ; " it is the king of Spain who has won by our dis-
cord." The huguenots had neither pay nor provisions,
and were therefore obliged to quit the vicinage of Paris,
x 4
512 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1568.
directing their course across Lorraine towards the fron-
tier of Germany, as they expected a body of auxiliaries
from that country. They were pursued, but not much
harassed in their retreat. Catherine endeavoured in-
cessantly to decoy them into negotiations, the depart-
ment of warfare which she felt herself most competent
to direct. She restrained the warlike disposition of the
king ; arguing with truth, that, from the violent animo-
sities of the time, the leaders of armies marched to meet a
certain fate, either in battle or at the hand of the assassin.
The king's brother., Henry duke of Anjou, was created
lieutenant-general. Catherine, who knew the weak and
yielding nature of her second son, would gladly have
made him the hero of the catholic party in preference to
young Guise, whose name she dreaded.
After much privation, during a march in winter, the
huguenots fell in with their German auxiliaries ; and
as they now outnumbered their enemies, they marched
back into France. They laid siege to Chartres, which,
being stoutly defended, kept the army fixed before it,
and gave the queen full opportunity for employing her
favourite efforts at negotiation. Coligny saw plainly the
perfidy of these overtures ; but their followers and sup-
porters, anxious for peace, obliged them to listen to terms.
A treaty was concluded at Longjumeau, in March, called
the Lame Peace, as well from its infirm and uncertain
nature, as from the accidental lameness of its two nego-
tiators. Its terms were a medium between the edict of
Amboise and that of Roussillon.
The peace was, as Coligny already saw, but a trap to
ensnare the huguenot chiefs as soon as their army should
be disbanded. They were on their guard, however, keep-
ing away from the court, and far apart from each other,
that at least one might escape in case of treason. Not-
withstanding this resolve, Conde and the admiral found
it necessary to consult together, and for this purpose met
at Noyers, a little town in Burgundy. The court was
soon informed of it; and orders were instantly despatched
to Tavannes, and to the other governors in the south, to
1568. HENRY OP NAVARRE. 313
arrest them. Tavannes was not vigilant in the execution
of their commands, and Conde' and Coligny escaped. By
this order, the queen had thrown off the mask ; though,
indeed, without such an indication, the executions and
murders throughout the south sufficiently proved that
the lame peace was never intended to be observed by the
catholics. Through inconceivable difficulties, the two
chiefs traversed the country, and reached Rochelle in
safety, where the protestants now found themselves
obliged, for the third time, to raise the standard of
revolt. Troops did not fail to join them from all quar-
ters ; but the most welcome aid came from Beam, the
queen of Navarre and her young son arriving at the head
of 3000 of their subjects.
This young prince, destined to run so glorious a career,
was born at Pau, in 1553. His father was Anthony of
Bourbon, king of Navarre, slain at the siege of Rouen.
Chroniclers never forget to relate, that his mother sung
at the birth, and that old Henri d'Albret, the infant's
grandfather, held up the child in delight, rubbing its
lips with garlic, and moistening them with wine. Ex-
cepting a short period spent at court, the boy lived the rude
and healthy life of a mountaineer, and imbibed from his
mother the rigid principles of the reformation. It was
in September, 1 568, that he accompanied her to Rochelle.
As if to add to the horrors of civil war, winter was
always chosen as the period of operations. The duke of
Anjou was at the head of the catholic army, with the
marechal Tavannes for his adviser. When Conde and
the huguenots approached, the cold was so extreme as
to chill the zeal of both armies. They found it impossible
to engage in battle. Mutual pillage, and cruelties too
horrid in many instances for the pen to record, were the
only feats of the soldiery. During the inaction that en-
sued (for the winter grew to that extreme rigour which
is seldom known even in France), the numbers of the
huguenots' army dispersed : the burgesses and volun-
teers, of whom it was principally composed, each betook
himself to his own home. The catholic troops, on the
814 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1569-
contrary, were soldiers by profession, paid and disci-
plined. Hence, in the spring, Conde was far inferior in
force to his enemies, before whom he was obliged to re-
tire towards Rochelle. In his retreat, the prince, having
crossed the Charente, took post at Jarnac, determined to
keep the river between himself and the enemy, and to
dispute his passage. The duke of Anjou, however, suc-
ceeded, by rapid marches and feigned attacks, in deceiv-
ing the vigilance of the prince ; and, passing the Charente
on the morning of the l6'th of March, attacked with
26,000 men the huguenots, who did not exceed 1 5,000.
At the first intelligence that the duke had passed the
river, the retreat was ordered. Conde was already a
league distant, with half the army : Coligny was follow-
ing, but waited too long for some stray companies of
horse. The consequence was, that he was attacked by
an overwhelming force of cavalry. The battle here began
between the chiefs on either side, who singled each other
out. Dandelot seized Monsalez, the leader of the catho-
lics, knocked his visor up, and shot him. La Noue, a hu-
guenot captain, the celebrated writer of the " Discours,"
was taken, and, as no quarter was given, escaped with
difficulty. Conde, in the mean time, hearing the sounds
of an action already engaged, checked the retreat, and,
leaving his infantry to follow, galloped with his cavalry
to support the admiral. But by this time the whole
army of the catholics had come up; and the protestants
had no alternative but to die valiantly. The prince of
Conde, inspired with this sentiment, was preparing for
a charge, when a kick from the horse of one of his of-
ficers broke his leg. He stifled the exclamation of pain,
charged with his troops, and was overthrown in the
struggle. He continued in the midst of the enemy,
defending himself, though fallen, until a captain of the
duke of Anjou's guard shot him with a pistol.
The protestants lost the battle and their chief. Their
infantry, which Conde had left behind, and which had
not fought, now covered the retreat, and served to rally
the party. The loss of the prince threatened to prove
1569- CONFLICT AT LA ROCHE-ABEILLE. 315
more serious than that of the army, the independent
captains and nobles refusing to obey Coligny. The cou-
rage of Jeanne d'Albret, queen of Navarre, opportunely
contributed to the relief of her party. She brought them
funds; stimulated them by the example of a woman's
intrepidity; and leading her son, prince Henry, accom-
panied by his cousin the young prince of Conde, amidst
the huguenot chiefs, she exclaimed, " Despair not : be-
hold the new chief that Heaven has sent to command
you ! " They caught her enthusiasm, and acknowledged
Henry of Bourbon as their new leader.
An army of Germans soon after entered France under
the duke of Deux-Ponts. This called the attention of
the catholics, and divided their forces. King Charles
was already jealtfus of his brother, the duke of Anjou,
for the laurels he was gaining, and or the favour shown
to him by the queen-mother. The cardinal flattered these
feelings of jealousy; and one half of the court was thus
employed in counteracting the exertions of the other.
The duke of Anjou, in consequence, was unable to fol-
low up his victory; nor was the march of the Germans
arrested. In a sharp combat that took place at La Roche-
Abeille, the huguenots had the advantage. They were
exasperated by the knowledge that a body of papal troops
had come to swell the royalist army. Their fury and
eagerness to welcome the papists made them victo-
rious, and at the same time merciless : they gave the
Italians no quarter. It was here that young Henry of
Navarre was first allowed to mingle in the combat. After
this check, the catholics determined on a singular mea-
sure, that of throwing strong garrisons into the neigh-
bouring towns, and disbanding the rest of the army, with
orders to re-assemble in October. It was now but July.
Want of funds might have been one of their motives; but
the principal reason was, perhaps, to avoid another battle
until the German auxiliaries had worn out the resources
of the huguenots and their own patience, and had fol-
lowed the ordinary custom of such troops, by returning
homewards.
31 6 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1569-
These measures of the court obliged Coligny to under-
take a siege, now almost the only mode of carrying on
the war. He was averse to it, and would rather have
made a bold march toward the capital ; but the noblesse
of the province compelled him to lay siege to Poitiers.
The young duke of Guise had thrown himself into the
town, and the besiegers soon found that he had deter-
mined to emulate his father in the celebrated defence of
Metz. An epidemic disorder began to ravage the hu-
guenot army; and even the life of the admiral, the last
resource of his party (Dandelot having been dead some
months), was threatened by it. He was at length forced
to raise the siege.
The army of the duke of Anjou re-assembled at the
appointed time. It was fresh, healthy, and superior in
numbers to that of the huguenots. The purpose of
Coligny was to avoid a battle ; but, as had been fore-
seen by their enemies, the German troops had by this
time grown weary of the service, and, with a view of
concluding the war, or of finding a pretext to desert it,
they demanded to be led to battle. The catholics
were pressing upon them, and there had been a sharp
skirmish on the preceding night. In obedience to the
will of his army, Coligny turned and faced the enemy
in the plains of Montcontour. An action took place ; a
confused and headlong fight, in which all the duties of
a general, save that of valour, were set aside and for-
gotten. There was a single combat between Coligny and
a German leader called the Rheingraf. He shot away part
of the jaw of the admiral, who slew his adversary. Such
was the exasperation, that the servants and suttlers of
the huguenot camp mingled in the ranks, or rather in
the press, and fought. The catholics were too strong
and too disciplined for their enemies. They defeated
them, drove them from the field, and, remembering
Roche-Abeille, slaughtered without offering quarter.
This was the fourth battle lost by the protestants. It
shook their constancy and courage ; and at St. Jean
d'Angeli, where the wreck of the army rallied, thoughts
1569- THE DUKE OP ANJOU DISPLACED. 317
were universally entertained of at length submitting to
the authority of the king, and to the yoke of the catho-
lics. The indomitable spirit of Coligny, however, roused
his party. Wounded as he was, he could still enumerate
the resources that remained : the cavalry, that had
escaped with little loss from Montcontour ; the army
with which Montgomeri had just reduced Beam ; and
also the aid of foreign powers ; above all, of England,
with whose support Rochelle, the principal strong-hold
of the huguenots, was impregnable. The eloquence of
Coligny was convincing ; his fortitude shamed away all
thoughts of submission ; and, retreating farther into the
south, the protestants showed themselves as formidable
in defeat as in victory.
The royalists did not pursue their advantage with
vigour. The new success of the duke of Anjou rekin-
dled the jealousy of Charles. The monarch joined the
army, set aside the duke of Anjou from the command,
and sent his partisan Tavannes to the insignificant
government of Boulogne. Instead of pursuing the ad-
miral, the catholics weakened themselves through the very
fault which he had committed in the preceding summer,
by engaging their force in sieges. They invested St.
Jean d'Angeli. The petty fortress held out for the
space of two months ; and, instead of being able to re-
duce llochelle, la Noue, the huguenot governor of that
town, was able to make conquests and gain partial vic-
tories. La Noue, on one of these occasions, sustained
the loss of one arm, which obliged him to use an iron
hook for holding his bridle, and he thence acquired the
name of Bras de Fer.
From the small results of this year's campaign, in
which he had gained two decisive victories without in
any sensible degree checking the progress of the re-
formation, Charles began to perceive that war was inef-
fectual, and that it was a vain hope to reduce the religious
malcontents by force. To pardon, or grant them tole-
rance, was foreign to his envious and malicious temper,
as well as repugnant to his bigot principles. The only
318 HISTOKY OF FRANCE. 15?0.
means left were to recur to the favourite policy of the
queen-mother, that of negotiating with the huguenots,
concluding a treaty, affecting reconciliation, and artfully
getting possession of the persons of all the chiefs. Da-
vila says that Catherine impressed this advice upon her
son at this juncture, on perceiving that the Montmorency
family were wavering, and already meditating a desertion
of the party of the court for that of the admiral. Most
historians assign to Charles another counsellor in these
matters : this was an Italian, Alberto Gcndi, count de
Retz, whom the queen had placed about the person of
the young monarch, and who failed not to instil into
him those Machiavelian principles, that were considered
in his country as including the only honourable maxims,
the only rules of action worthy of the statesman. In
this he most probably went beyond the wishes of Ca-
therine ; for Gondi cordially joined the king in his jea-
lousies and suspicions against his mother.
Events soon occurred to render the crooked policy
meditated by Charles more necessary. Cosse-Brissac,
commanding the catholics, was beaten by Coligny,
who, avoiding the fatal measure of a siege, advanced
upon the capital. The veteran admiral was by this time
weary of the war j he was sick of shedding the blood of
his fellow-countrymen ; his avowed object was peace a
treaty in which the rights of the French protestants
should be guarantied, and which, allowing them to join
their arms to those of their catholic brethren, might open
an opportunity for gaining victories over a foreign ene-
my, instead of those which now, whatever side claimed
or won them, were equally disastrous to France. An
envoy from the court found Coligny disposed to enter-
tain these sentiments. The terms he had to offer were
favourable in the highest degree. However the sus-
picions of the admiral might be awakened by this facility
of concession, he had no pretext for showing them. If
Catherine of Medicis had recurred to her former plan of
entrapping the chiefs of the huguenots, who now re-
mained of them but he ? It was selfishness, then, and
1570. TREATV WITH THE HUGUENOTS. 319
personal timidity, in Coligny to object on this account.
The treaty was, in consequence, concluded. Amnesty
and liberty of conscience were granted to the protestants :
their worship was allowed in all towns held by them
during the war, and, at any rate, in two towns of each
province ; and they were allowed to preserve and gar-
rison four strong places in the kingdom, viz. Rochelle,
Montauban, Cognac, and La Charite, as guaranties that
these conditions would be observed. Such was the
treaty signed in August, 1570. It is impossible to sup-
pose that Charles could have granted, as his mother
advised, such terms, especially the last of them, without
some secret determinations of vengeance. After the vic-
tories of the preceding year,- the late defeat of Brissac,
which had led to negotiations, might have been itself an
artifice, such concessions would be utterly inconsistent
with the known sagacity of those who made them, un-
less we suppose that their intention was to cover the
perfidious designs that were approaching their maturity.
Anquetil asserts that the admiral manifested entire
confidence ; and adds, that he, immediately after the
peace, retired with the queen and the prince of Navarre
to Rochelle. He could not have given a stronger proof
of mistrust.
The object of the court was not peace, but vengeance,
To draw the protestant leaders to the capital became
the principal effort of policy. To entice the queen of
Navarre an ample pretext was found. It was proposed
that her son Henry should espouse Margaret, the king's
sister, which marriage would in itself be a bond of union
between the parties. To Coligny Charles held out what
he knew to be the darling project of the admiral, a war
against Spain, undertaken by the French of both re-
ligions, for the purpose of annexing the ancient fief of
Flanders to the crown. The queen of Navarre was
mistrustful : she abhorred taking a wife for her son from
amidst so corrupt a court. Still she hesitated to refuse
so high an offer : she came to negotiate. Catherine of
Medicis lavished all her smiles, made use of all her
320 HISTORY OF FRANCK. 1570.
cajoleries, in vain. Her power of address and artifice
failed before the stern and conscientious doubts of
Jeanne of Navarre. This princess died after a short
illness, and the objections raised by her ceased to be
urged. The protestant writers do not doubt that she
was poisoned ; no proof, however, corroborates the sus-
picion.
Coligny in the past troublesome times had appeared
as the valiant though often unsuccessful soldier, full
of resources, and never more formidable than when
overwhelmed by defeat or surprise. Still we might
have mistaken him for a zealot, for one of those fiery
spirits born but to breathe the atmosphere of civil
strife, had not his later days shown him the patriot,
sacrificing self-interest to the public weal, forgetting
his just suspicions in his love of peace, and only medi-
tating how the disgrace of intestine war might be ob-
literated by the glory of foreign conquests. There is
even an admixture of romance in his life. A noble lady
of Savoy became enamoured of his heroism, and escaped
to espouse him. By this she lost her rich possessions,
which were confiscated. Neither she nor Coligny showed
regret at the loss. He gave his daughter at the same
time to Teligny, a gallant young soldier, who had fought
under his own eyes, but who possessed neither birth
nor fortune. Full of his schemes of wresting Flanders
from Philip II., Coligny appeared at court, and was
received by Charles as a son might receive a forgiving
parent : " My father," said the perfidious young mo-
narch, in a tone that did not betray the real irony of
the expression, " we hold you now, and you shall not
escape us."
Coligny was in fact treated as the father of the court :
the king consulted him on every occasion, while young
Guise, his uncle of Lorraine, and their party, concealed
their disgrace, and affected the deepest resentment against
Charles. So perfect was the dissimulation, and so pro-
foundly played was the game, that the catholic historians,
who wish to excuse or palliate the atrocity of Charles,
1570. COLIGNY MURDERED. 321
have room to pretend that he was really won over
by the noble bearing and the patriotic views of Coligny;
and that the Guises and Catherine, afraid of the admi-
ral's influence, forced the young monarch into the
conspiracy against him. There is an -absurdity in the
supposition, whether it be regarded generally, or examined
in detail. There could be no object in enticing Coligny
to court except that act of vengeance through which his
enemies hoped " by one fell swoop" to get rid of him
and his principal adherents. The Spanish war, which
served as a pretext, could never have been sincerely me-
ditated, and was evidently a rumour, intended to last
for a short time, until the catastrophe should occur by
which it was to be dissipated.
The pope, however, was really deceived by the ami-
cable bearing of Charles towards the huguenots, by the
inexplicable lenity of the treaty, and above all, by the
marriage. The legate expostulated with the French
king, who was embarrassed how to frame a reply, not
daring to betray his intentions. " I wish to Heaven, car-
dinal, that I could tell you all," were the words of Charles ;
" but you and the pope shall soon know how beneficial
this marriage shall prove to the interests of religion.
Take my word for it, in a little time the holy father
shall have reason to praise my designs, my piety, and
my zeal in behalf of the faith."
The ill-omened marriage at length took place. Co-
ligny went not without warnings : he pretended to have
good reasons for his confidence, and accused the mis-
trustful of folly. " I would rather save myself with
the fools," said Langoiran, " than die with such sage
people." The admiral remained, and was present at
the wedding of the prince of Navarre with the princess
Margaret on the 17th of August. Festivities of the
utmost splendour followed the ceremony. Catherine of
Medicis showed her taste and ingenuity in them at the
very time that a murder was planning. On the 21st, as
the admiral was proceeding home on foot from the
Louvre, an arquebuss, discharged at him from a window,
VOL. i. Y
S22 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 15?2.
wounded him dangerously in two places. He was never-
theless able to reach his residence. It was evident who
was the immediate instigator of the murder. The as-
sassin was known to be Maurevel, one who had been
before employed to shoot Mouy, a huguenot general.
The shot was fired from the house of one attached to
the duke of Guise.
When the king was informed of the event, he ex-
claimed, " Shall I never be left in repose ? " He paid
no attention to the duke of Guise, with whom he was
at the moment playing, and who had no doubt by his
orders planned the mode of putting to death the admi-
ral. Charles had hoped that the murder of Coligny
would have roused the huguenots to take instant ven-
geance upon Guise, and that in the tumult his troops,
aided by the Parisians, would soon master them in the
moment of insurrection, to which he could easily affix
the appearance of treason. Thus the king would be rid
of the importunate chiefs of both parties. But the ad-
miral wounded and not killed was the worst that could
happen. His indignant followers might retire with him,
and recommence the civil war. This was to be pre-
vented at all hazards. Charles undertook to soothe Co-
ligny : he visited him, expressed the utmost resentment
at the murderous attempt, and vowed to take vengeance
on the perpetrators when he should discover them. " To
discover them cannot be difficult," replied the admiral,
coolly.
Whatever had been the plans of the king and of Ca-
therine, it was evident that something had gone wrong
in them. Their aim had been to get rid of their ene-
mies, yet escape the odium. It now became necessary
to brave the odium, and execute the essential part of the
project, if they would not run the risk of frustrating the
object of all their negotiations, concessions, and treachery.
In a consultation, therefore, held by Charles with his
brother the duke of Anjou, the Guises, and Catherine, a
general massacre of the huguenots was decided on. The
queen-mother was for slaying merely the seven or eight
1572. THE EVE OP ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 323
leading chiefs j but Charles, who had hitherto hesitated,
at once became furious with the foretaste of blood, and
ordered an indiscriminate slaughter. This was but too
congenial with the sanguinary spirit of the Guises, who
undertook the execution. Tavannes was charged to
muster the city guards on the appointed night, and in-
struct them in the task and the order of slaughter.
The eve of St. Bartholomew, the 24th of August,
was the night appointed. The prince of Navarre and
the prince of Conde were the only protestants to be
spared : yet Charles, on observing the young count de
la Rochefoucault, whom he liked, about to leave the
Louvre, laid his hand upon him, and besought him to
stay that night at the palace. The count refused :
the king entreated ; but fearing to awaken suspicion, he
abandoned his friend to his fate. All was wakeful that
night in the Louvre. The orders were issued ; and
Charles, restless and agitated, watched the hours in hor-
rible suspense. The queen-mother and the duke of
Anjou were with him. The latter has left a record of
the moment, and describes the stunning effect of the
first pistol shot that broke the stillness of the night.
Guise and his band of cut-throats rushed out at the
sound towards their appointed prey, whilst the tocsin of
St. Germain 1'Auxerrois called the catholic citizens to
the massacre of their brethren.
Guise soon reached the admiral's abode, and forced
his way in, crying, " To death ! to death !" but feared
himself to face Coligny. It was Berne, a German fol-
lower of the duke's, who rushed up stairs, and entering
an apartment, beheld a venerable man engaged in prayer.
" Is't thou who art Coligny ? " asked the assassin. " It
is I," replied the admiral : " young man respect my grey
hairs." Berne, for answer, plunged his sword into the
admiral's body, and exclaimed through the window, ' ' He
is done for." " Let us see, though," cried the sanguin-
ary Guise ; and the bleeding corpse of Coligny was flung
down to him : he wiped the face with his handkerchief,
in order to recognise the features, and then was satisfied.
y 2
HISTORY OF FKAXCB. 1572.
The same scene was repeated in every street, almost
in every house. The catholics, with the sign of the
cross in their caps, or the image of the Virgin round
their necks, to distinguish them, pursued all those that
bore not these symbols of the assassin, and murdered
them without pity. Yeomen were not spared, nor youth ;
and the child that could wield a mallet, it is recorded,
was directed to dash out the brains of the infants of
heretics. What is surprising, the victims made no
resistance ! The most valiant captains bared their throats
to the knife ; they would not derogate, at such a mo-
ment, from their character of martyrs. Most were
murdered as they slept, or when just starting from their
beds. Teligny, to whom the admiral had given his
daughter, was shot on the tiles of his house. One old
noble, Caumont de la Force, who had himself received
his death- wound, saw one of his sons slain : ere his
strength left him, he had presence of mind to fling him-
self upon his other son, still sleeping, and thus concealed
and preserved him with a parent's dead body. A hu-
guenot, pursued by a captain of the king's guard, in the
very palace, rushed towards the chamber of the king of
Navarre, forced it open, and flung himself into the bed
for safety. Charles's sister, Margaret, the bride of the
late spousals, was in it alone. She sprung up in affright,
the huguenot still clinging to her for safety. The cap-
tain arrived with his drawn sword, but was so struck
with the ludicrous position of the princess and the terri-
fied huguenot, that he burst into laughter, and was
induced to spare his victim.
No allowable space would suffice for the records of
such indiscriminate massacre. Charles, by his missives,
ordered the same scene to be renewed in every town
throughout his dominions. And the principal cities
but too zealously responded. Fifty thousand protestants
re said to have fallen victims of the monarch's order.
A few commanders refused. The viscount d'Orthe wrote
back to the court, " that he commanded soldiers, not
assassins." And even the public executioner of a cer-
1572. MASSACRE OP THE PROTESTANTS. 325
tain town,, when a dagger was put into his hands, flung
it away, and declared himself above the crime. The
family of the Montmorency, though catholics, showed
their abhorrence of these acts, and had the courage to
take down the body of the admiral, which had been hung
to the common gibbet, and to give it burial at Chantilly.
Charles IX. had not failed to visit it, while yet sus-
pended. His followers complained of the odour. " The
body of a dead enemy cannot smell otherwise than
sweet," was his reply. And yet this is the monarch
whom some historians uphold to have been sincere in
his demonstrations of friendship to Coligny ; and who,
say they, was but subsequently induced, by an intrigue-
of Catherine and of Guise, to consent to the massacre.
He now avowed that all was committed by his orders ;
and even held a bed of justice in his parliament for the
very purpose. The trembling judges, with de Thou,
their president, could not but applaud his zeal. As for
de 1'Hopital, who had long been banished from court,
and who had abandoned the friendship of Catherine since
she had joined the Guises, he expected not to be spared,
and ordered his domestics to throw open the gates. They
disobeyed, aud the murderers were unable to reach him.
But de I'Hopital did not long survive to deplore the
miseries of his country. His words were, " After such
horrors, I do not wish to live." The joy of the pope, on
the other hand, and of Philip of Spain, knew no bounds.
The supreme pontiff went in state to his cathedral, and
returned public thanks to Heaven for this signal mercy.
Charles had spared his sister's husband, the young
king of Navarre, and his companion the prince of
Conde. It was only at the price of being converted.
Death or the mass was the alternative offered to them ;
and both, after some resistance, yielded in appearance.
On the other hand, mere abhorrence of the massacre
caused many catholic gentlemen to turn huguenots.
Amongst these was Henry de la Tour d'Auvergne, vis-
count de Turenne. After all, the crime, from which so
much was expected, produced neither peace nor advan-
y 3
1 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1573.
tage. The huguenots were, indeed, paralysed by the
blow ; but the catholics were no less stupified by remorse
and shame. King Charles himself seemed stricken al-
ready by avenging fate. He was nervous, and agitated.
The blood he had spilled seemed ever to stream before
his eyes. A continual fever took possession of him, and
henceforth never ceased to consume him. The chiefs
were equally languid, equally disunited. The huguenots
had time to rally, and to prepare for defence. Rochelle
and Montauban shut their gates. Charles in hisblindness
sent la Noue, the huguenot, to Rochelle; he became its
commander. The town was at length besieged, and
thousands of the catholics fell before it ; among them,
not a few of the murderers who assisted in the massacre
on St. Bartholomew's eve. At length Charles, unable
to conquer, and incompetent to carry on war with vigour,
granted the huguenots a peace. Rochelle and JMontau-
ban preserved the freedom of their religion ; and Charles
had the pain of perceiving that his grand and sweeping
crime had but enfeebled the catholic party, instead of
ensuring its triumph.
Catherine, in the mean time, had the address to pro-
cure the crown of Poland for the son of her predilection,
Henry duke of Anjou. She had lavished her wealth
upon the electors for this purpose. No sooner was the
point gained than she regretted it. The health of
Charles was now manifestly on the decline, and Cathe-
rine would fain have retained Henry ; but the jealousy
of the king forbade. After conducting the duke on his
way to Poland the court returned to St. Germain, and
Charles sunk, without hope or consolation, on his couch
of sickness. Even here he was not allowed to repose.
The young king of Navarre formed a project of escape
with the prince of Conde'. The due d'Alencon, youngest
brother of the king, joined in it. A body of horse were
to wait in the forest of St. Germain for the princes, and
protect them in their flight. The vigilance of the queen-
mother discovered the enterprise, which, for her own
purposes, she magnified into a serious plot. Charles
1574. DEATH OF CHARLES XX. 327
was informed that a huguenot army was coming to
surprise him, and he was obliged to be removed into a
litter, in order to escape. " This is too much," said he :
" could they not have let me die in peace."
Conde was the only prince that succeeded in making
his escape. The king of Navarre and the due d'Alen-
con were imprisoned. The former, accused of conspir-
ing against the king's life, defended himself with mag-
nanimity, and asked, was it a crime, if he, a king,
sought to free himself from durance? This young
prince, or monarch, had already succeeded by his ad-
dress, his frankness, and high character, in rallying to
his interests the most honourable of the noblesse, who
dreaded at once the perfidious Catherine and her chil-
dren ; who had renounced their good opinion of young
Guise after the day of St. Bartholomew; and who, at the
same time professing Catholicism, were averse to hugue-
not principles and zeal. This party, called the Pott-
tif/nes, professed to follow the middle or neutral course,
which at one time had been that of Catherine of Medicis ;
but she had long since deserted it, and had joined in all
the sanguinary and extreme measures of her son and of
the Guises. Hence she was especially odious to the new
and moderate party of the Politiques, among whom the
family of Montmorency held the lead. C atherine feared
their interference at the moment of the king's death,
whilst his successor was absent in a remote kingdom;
and she swelled the project of the princes' escape into a
serious conspiracy, in order to be mistress of those whom
she feared. Lamole and Coconas, both confidants of the
princes, were executed for favouring their escape. The
marshals of Cosse and Montmorency were sent to the
Bastile. In this state of the court Charles IX. expired
on the 30th of May, 1574, after having nominated the
queen-mother to be regent during his successor's ab-
sence.
The character of Charles is graven in the events of
his reign. He was a cruel and perfidious monsters
and although a great portion of the burden of his crime;
328 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1574.
must fall on the religion which prompted and absolved,
nay, nominally hallowed them, yet to have been instru-
mental in perpetrating such atrocities is sufficient to
damn him. One should think there was no need for
this severity of language ; one might suppose that the
mere facts, the massacres of the time, would sufficiently
provoke the judgment of every reader. But the memory
of Charles IX. has never wanted defenders. Brantome
describes him as a pattern of amiability and virtue.
Catholic writers have not ceased to vaunt and to excuse
him ; and even a modern historian, Anquetil, begs us
tc to excuse his extreme vivacity," and informs us that
" his good qualities were far more in number than his
bad ones."
CHAP. IX.
15741589-
HENRY THE THIRD.
THE career of the new king, while duke of Anjou, had
been glorious. Raised to the command of armies at the
age of fifteen, he displayed extreme courage as well as
generalship. He had defeated the veteran leader of the
protestants at Jarnac and at Montcontour ; and the
fame of his exploits had contributed to place him
on the elective throne of Poland, which he now occu-
pied. Auguring from his past life, a brilliant epoch
might be anticipated ; and yet we enter upon the most
contemptible reign, perhaps, in the annals of France.
Notwithstanding the valour of Henry, occasionally di-
rected by a mind sagacious enough when awakened,
there was a weakness, a fatuity about him, that looked
like a curse, for it was unaccountable. He seemed to
have faculties, but no spirit to direct them. Pleasure
FIFTH CITIL WAR. 329
was with him the sole end of existence. He inherited
from his mother a complete indifference to any principle
or party. But this want, of motive, which she amply
supplied by profound and active selfishness, in him be-
came apathy, combined with a distaste for aught saVe
sensual and frivolous enjoyment. The maternal feeling
that led the astute Catherine to centre her affection in
this weak and infatuated son must have wrought for
her much of the pain and mortification that her perfidy
deserved.
Henry was obliged to run away by stealth from his
Polish subjects. When overtaken by one of the nobles
of that kingdom, the monarch, instead of pleading his
natural anxiety to visit France and secure his inherit-
ance, excused himself by drawing forth the portrait of
his mistress, the princess of Conde, and declared that it
was love which hastened his return. At Vienna, how-
ever, Heriry forgot both crown and mistress amidst the
feasts that were given him ; and he turned aside to
Venice, to enjoy a similar reception from that rich re-
public. In these pleasures he lingered, lavishing money,
and even giving away the fortresses of his kingdom in
liberality to his -hosts.
The hostile parties were in them ean time arming
The Politiques, or neutral catholics, for the first time,
showed themselves in the field. They demanded the
freedom of Cosse and of Montmorency, and at length
formed a treaty of alliance with the huguenots. Henry,
after indulging in the ceremony of being crowned, was
obliged to lead an army into the field. Sieges were un-
dertaken on both sides, and what is called the fifth civil
war raged openly. It became more serious when the
king's brother joined it. This was the duke of Alencon,
a vain and fickle personage, of whom it pleased the
king to become jealous. Alencon fled, and joined the
malcontents. The reformers, however, warred but lan-
guidly. Both parties were without active and zealous
leaders; and the only notable event of this war was a
skirmish in Champagne, where the duke of Guise re-
330 HISTORY OF FRANCE.
ceivecl a slight wound in the cheek. From hence came
his surname of Le Balafre.
Since the massacre of St. Bartholomew's eve, at least
since his frustrated attempt to escape, the young king
of Navarre had remained a captive at court, under the
watchful and envious eye of Catherine. Forgetful of
his high destinies, Bourbon gave himself up to pleasure :
some of his admirers assert that he affected to be dead
to ambition, in order to lull the suspicions of the queen-
mother, thus acting the part of Brutus at the court of
Tarquin. His desire to escape could not have slept.
To support the presence of his wife must alone have
been bitter humiliation to him : Margaret was at once
as debauched and as cruel as her royal brothers ; and
about this very time Duguast, one of the king's infamous
favourites, fell under the dagger of a person hired by
her to avenge an insult. Still Bourbon endured all
with his characteristic gaiety. " I must abandon the
mass and my wife," said he, " but, with the help of
friends, I hope to be able to do without either." When
the duke of Alencon escaped, he pressed the king of
Navarre to accompany him ; but the latter would not
trust himself again to one who had before betrayed him;
and it was not until some time after the duke's flight,
that Bourbon succeeded in leaving the court. He bent
his course towards Guienne, and at Niort publicly
avowed his adherence to the reformed religion, declaring
that force alone had made him conform to the mass.
It was about this time that the king, in lieu of leading
an army against the malcontents, despatched the queen-
mother, with her gay and licentious court, to win back
his brother. She succeeded, though not without making
large concessions. The duke of Alencon obtained Anjou,
and other provinces in appanage, and henceforth was
styled duke of Anjou. More favourable terms were
granted to the huguenots : they were allowed ten towns
of surety in lieu of six, and the appointment of a certain
number of judges in the parliament.
Such weakness in Henry disgusted the body of the
1576. DEPRAVITY OP HENRY III. 331
catholics ; and the private habits of his life contributed
still more, if possible, than his public measures, to ren-
der him contemptible. He was continually surrounded
by a set of young and idle favourites, whose affectation
it was to unite ferocity with frivolity. The king showed
them such tender affection as he might evince towards
woman : they even had the unblushing impudence to
adopt feminine habits of dress; and the monarch passed
his time in adorning them and himself with robes and
ear-rings. The licentiousness of the court, and the
demoralisation arising from the total absence of female
virtue, Avhich, since the reign of Francis I., had been
notorious, were carried to such extent under Charles IX.,
that the higher ranks of the sex ceased to have charms,
and became objects of disgust, even to the licentious.
Hence came the indescribable tastes and amusements of
Henry and his mignons, as his favourites were called,
which raised up throughout the nation one universal cry
of abhorrence and contempt.
The populace of Paris had from the first declared
against the huguenots : the blood they had spilled on
St. Bartholomew's eve was enough to fix them in their
opinions. They cordially sympathised with the catholic
chiefs, and with young Guise, who lived in a kind of
exile in his government of Champagne, resentful on
account of the lenity and concessions of the king in the
late treaty. Their religion was menaced, and an asso-
ciation was formed to support it, which afterwards grew
into the famous league. The idea might have been
taken from the protestants, who at this time formed a
closely united body. But many trace the origin of the
league to a date some years anterior, and attribute it to
the cardinal of Lorraine and his brother, the first duke
of Guise. In my own view, if the league had any
model, it was the institution of the Jesuits, of which,
about this period, it adopted the leading principle, viz.
the necessity of an absolute chief. The first document
of the union that was signed in Picardy lays stress on
this as the chief point. It is curious to mark the dif-
332 HISTOUY OF FRANCE. 1576.
ferent tendencies of the two religions. Rochelle at the
same time refused to receive the prince of Conde as
king of Navarre, otherwise than with only a few fol-
lowers, stipulating that their leader should have no more
authority over them than the judges in Israel. The
catholics, however, at once looked to Guise as their
chief. And when Henry, by his conduct, rendered
himself utterly contemptible, when his brother showed
a character equally null, and when, in fact, the race of
Valois seemed likely soon to become extinct, the catholics
began to look to the duke of Guise, not merely as a
party leader, but as their future monarch. The Bour-
bons, the natural heirs to the crown, were set aside as
heretics. The genealogy of the Guises was blazoned
forth, as showing their descent from Charlemagne. It
was argued that they were the true inheritors of the
crown, the race of Capet being declared usurpers from
the commencement. Such were the general reasonings
of the leaguers. Their immediate plan was to force the
king to summon the states-general, to employ their
utmost efforts to secure the election of catholic members,
and, by means of this majority, to revoke the privileges
granted to the huguenots. Some also proposed to shut
up the king and his brother in a convent, and offer the
crown to the duke of Guise. The raore experienced
members of the party were, however, well aware that
the time was not yet arrived for such extreme measures.
The states-general met at Blois in December, 1576.
The huguenots themselves were eager for their meeting,
from a recollection of the sentiments favourable to mo-
deration and to tolerance, evinced by the last states,
summoned at Orleans. They forgot the influence exer-
cised at that period by the chancellor de 1'Hopital, as
well as by Coligny. Now the league had spread its
ramifications throughout the kingdom : the provincial
assemblies and elections were completely influenced by
them. The states were in the interest of Guise, as ap-
peared from the nature of their first demands : these
were the repeal of the edicts, and a declaration of war
1577- EDICT OP POITIERS. 333
against the heretics. They sought to obtain the force
of law for their decrees, and conducted themselves in
every way as an artful and factious assembly. Henry
was roused from his apathy by these intrigues, and
showed at once the sagacity of his mother. Instead of
combating the league, he drew it forth from its secrecy,
subscribed to it, and declared himself its chief. This
was the most adroit blow that he could give to the
ambition of Guise, who had no longer an excuse for
being disloyal. To the demand of the states for war
Henry acceded : he declared himself eager to begin it,
and begged funds for that purpose. This request cooled
the ardour of the states ; and the commons avowed, that
since war must be supported by taxes, they were not so
averse to peace. The king thus countermined all the
intrigues of the Guises. He was enabled to dismiss the
states, and to grant, by the edict of Poitiers, such con-
cessions as satisfied the huguenots, without being so
disgraceful to the crown as the preceding treaty.
After this momentary exertion of prudence and acti-
vity Henry relapsed into his frivolous habits, and again
sought the society of his minions. Jealousy still existed
between the king and his brother ; and the favourites
increased it. One day when the king, accompanied by
his young companions, all " desperately frizzed and
starched, covered with gold and diamonds," was attend-
ing a ceremony, Bussy d'Amboise, a follower of the
duke of Anjou, made his appearance, simply clad, but
attended by six pages, frizzed and starched also, and
clothed in cloth of gold, after the fashion of the mignons.
The king was wroth at the insult ; but the favourites
vowed vengeance. After some combats and quarrels,
the duke of Anjou and Bussy quitted the court together.
The mignons did not want courage : three of them en-
gaged soon after in a duel with three partisans of the
duke of Guise. They were all slain after having killed
two of their antagonists. The king was inconsolable,
wept over their bodies, cut off their locks, and erected
magnificent tombs for them. Another favourite, St.
SS4 HISTOBY OF FRANCE. 1580.
Megrin, was a lover of the duchess of Guise. He was
assassinated ; and his fate was a new source of grief for
Henry, who consoled himself by causing Bussy d'Amboise
to be despatched in the same way.
The king of Navarre, in the mean time, who resided
at Nerac, was strengthening his party. The greatest
disorder reigned in Languedoc, the governors yielding
obedience to neither of the kings, and threatening, upon
the slightest pretext, to join one party and oppose the
other. Nevertheless, peace subsisted, and there seemed
really to exist no matter for negotiation. Catherine,
however, could not rest in the idle court of her son.
Under the pretext of conducting her daughter Margaret
to her husband, the king of Navarre, she took a jour-
ney to Nerac, and proposed to bring Bourbon into a
more amicable understanding. The consequence of her
attempts was the breaking out of a new war, called the
war des Amoureux or of the Lovers, it being excited by
Margaret in revenge for the king's betraying to her hus-
band her intrigues with the viscount de Turenne and the
duke of Anjou. This war, which was confined to the
capture of a few towns, and which served but to exer-
cise and make known the valour and generosity-of the
king of Navarre, occupied the year 1580, and terminated
in a peace little different fromlthat which concluded the
former war.
The league had slumbered since its first defeat at Blois.
It was now to be roused into activity by the king of
Spain. The duke of Anjou, that fickle and restless
prince, not content with pretending to the hand of the
queen of England, also grasped at the offer made by the
revolted Flemings to proclaim him count and inde-
pendent sovereign of Flanders. The French reformers
crowded under his banners, and he marched northwards
at the head of 12,000 men. He seized Cambray, ac-
quired the dominion of the Low Countries, and might
have reigned there in despite of the Spaniards, had it
been possible for a son of Catherine to follow the rules
of common honesty or prudence. But having conceived
1 585. TREATY OF THE LEAGUEBS WITH PHILIP II. 335
a jealousy of the prince of Orange and of his new sub-
jects, the duke attempted to make himself master of
Antwerp. A massacre of the citizens took place by his
orders ; and the general indignation expelled him from
the Low Countries. The duke of Anjou soon after died,
in disappointment and shame.
This enterprise of a French prince, aided by French
protestants, and not opposed by Henry/ made a deep
impression upon Philip II. : he vowed to give, thence-
forward, occupation to the French at home. He first
endeavoured to make use of the reformers themselves,
and to induce the king of Navarre to attack Henry. On
the other hand, but with more sincerity, he resuscitated
the league by aid and by promises. Philip hoped thus
to occupy and consume both parties in mutual war ; but
Bourbon resisted and rejected all his treacherous offers.
Guise was less scrupulous. Towards the end of the
year 1584 that duke retired from court, followed by
all his adherents and the zealots of the league. Henry,
unconscious of danger, though not blind to their inten-
tions, pursued them with jests, not arms. Nancy, the
capital of Lorraine, was their rendezvous ; and here a
solemn- treaty was concluded in February, 1585, be-
tween the French leaguers and Philip of Spain. By
this it was stipulated, that in case of Henry III.'s death,
the cardinal of Bourbon, the only catholic of that family,
should be called to the throne, to the exclusion of the
king of Navarre ; that he should renew the peace of
Chateau-Cambresis, restore all subsequent conquests,
and assist in the subjugation of the Low Countries. In
return, Philip agreed to furnish an army, and to pay
50,000 crowns a month by way of subsidy.
The league had but to declare itself in order to be
victorious. The towns of the north fell at once into
the hands of its partisans. Burgundy was equally fa-
vourable to them. The south-west alone held for the
reformers, yet rallied but feebly to the king of Navarre.
The huguenot towns were in fact inimical to royalty,
and longed to imitate Geneva in the establishment of a
336 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1585.
republic. This was one great cause of the superior
forces with which the leaguers now overwhelmed their
enemies. As for Henry III., independent of the rival
parties, he was not master of a fortress or a soldier. He
had foreseen the coming storm, but had taken no pre-
cautions for procuring shelter or support. He first
wrote to the king of Navarre for aid against the Guises,
and ended by throwing himself into the arms of the
league, and declaring against Navarre. Catherine's ad-
dress, and the imbecility of Guise, (for Le Balafrc, the
assassin of St. Bartholomew's eve, wanted the talents
and the courage as well as the generosity of his father,)
saved Henry from being set aside as a cipher. He was
allowed to place himself at the head of the league. In
obedience to it, he issued ordonnances, prohibiting the
reformed worship on pain of death, and banishing out
of the kingdom all who previously adhered to it. Ten
principal fortresses of the kingdom were given up to
the leaguers, and war was declared against Henry of
Navarre.
That prince was astounded on learning the success of
the league, and its absorption, as it were, of the royal
power. His first thought was the hopelessness of resist-
ance; his next, that but one path was open to him to
perish gloriously. In his indignation against the perfidy
of Guise he despatched a challenge to that duke, defying
him to single combat, and calling heaven to witness that
he took that step, not from vain bravado or despite, but
for the sake of deciding briefly a quarrel, which would
otherwise cost the lives of thousands. Guise returned
no answer to the chivalrous appeal. Friends in the
mean time rallied to support the king of Navarre. Mont-
morency declared for him. His companions, La Roche-
foucault, De Rohan, Biron, and Turenne, joined him.
Conde and his friend la Tremouille also hastened to
his court. Knights were not wanting. But the days
were past when the noblesse were of themselves all-suf-
ficient for war. A sturdy and disciplined infantry was
wanting as well as funds for its maintenance. Bourbon
1587- BATTLE OP COUTRAS. 337
was without either. Rosny, his friend, set out to sell
his woods in Normandy : the countess of Grammont,
his mistress, exchanged her jewels for gold; both to con-
tribute their mite to the scanty treasures of the prince
in his distress.
Notwithstanding the love universally borne to the
king of Navarre he was unable to collect more than
four or five thousand men to resist two armies, each of
them 20,000 strong, commanded by the duke of May-
enne, the brother of Guise, and by the marechal de
Matignon. Fortunately the leaguers had neither union
nor vigour, and were without military talents of any
kind. Whenever they succeeded in surprising Bourbon,
and in surrounding his small forces, his nimble Basques
separated at a word. He himself imitating them, made
his way through the hostile lines, and the leaguers soon
heard of the distant exploits of one whom they deemed
in their power. He had at the same time to defend
himself with other weapons against other foes. Pope Six-
tus issued excommunications against him and the prince
of Conde. This gave him the opportunity of sending
forth an indignant and eloquent defence, which he suc-
ceeded in getting affixed to the palace of the pontiff.
Henry III. was not displeased at the ill success of
the generals of the league. It allowed him to assume
more power; and he took upon him to give the com-
mand of the army, in the following year, to one of his
favourites, Joyeuse, a brave and rash stripling. Thus, a
victory would bring triumph and influence to one imme-
diately attached to him, whilst a defeat would humble
the overbearing party that constrained him to war. Joy-
euse was eager to distinguish himself. With a small army
he pressed closely upon the king of Navarre, who was at
the head of still smaller numbers. The battle took place
at Coutras, a little town, not many leagues from Bor-
deaux. The army of Joyeuse was chiefly composed of
young nobles and gay courtiers, covered with finery and
unused to war, although not lacking courage. The king
of Navarre placed his infantry on either side, in columns,
338 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 158?.
his cavalry in the midst, divided into squadrons, each
presenting a rank of fifty in front, though not six deep.
His tactics were evidently of the old chivalric kind : he
depended on the valour of the mounted gentlemen, rather
than on the mass of vulgar infantry; whilst his own
personal courage was not his least resource. After a pre-
lude of cannon, Sully directing ably the artillery of his
sovereign, the catholics began to attack with such fury,
that they broke the squadrons on the right under Tu-
renne. The army of Navarre forming a semicircle, the
king was in the centre, considerably behind his wings,
and concealed by a rising ground. Joyeuse, seeing the
success of his first attack, led on his battle, or principal
squadron. But the horses were fatigued ere they reached
their enemies. In consequence, the charge was languid ;
the lance became useless ; while, with the sword, the
king of Navarre and his hardy warriors were far more
formidable than the effeminate courtiers of Henry III.
These were speedily vanquished, and Joyeuse himself
was slain. Bourbon grappled with the standard-bearer
of the enemy, crying out, " Rends-toi, Philistin!" "Sur-
render, Philistine !" No doubt the preachers that thronged
and fought in the field had compared him, in their ser-
mons, to king David ; and Henry preserved a humorous
recollection of the comparison even in the heat of action.
The battle had begun, on the part of the huguenots, with
a prayer and a psalm. It was made to end with one ;
the ministers shouting forth, as their paean, one of the
psalms of Marot
La voici 1'hcurcuse journ^e,
Ou Dieu couronne ses I'lus!
Bourbon was unable to follow up this splendid vic-
tory: he was totally without funds. In some pacific
conferences, Gonzaga duke of Nevers, one of the Italians
introduced into France by the queen-mother, taunted
him with his inability to raise the smallest sum, even in
Rochelle. Not being able to deny the fact, the king of
Navarre replied with sharpness, "That is because we
have no Italian financiers among us." The army of
1587- TUB VICTORY FRUITLESS. 339
the huguenots was thus composed merely of volun-
teers. After the victory of Coutras, chief and soldier
were eager to return home. They disbanded, and Bour-
bon was obliged to retreat. An army of German pro-
testants had entered France in the commencement of
the campaign, and had marched across the country to
aid their allies in the cause of the reformation. They
found the passage of the Loire impracticable, and were
obliged to abandon their design. Harassed by the duke
of Guise, who watched and followed them, without
a leader of talent or authority, this powerful army of
auxih'aries was likely to produce no advantage to the
huguenots. Could the king of Navarre have joined
them, he might have crushed the league in its birth,
But he was now without a force. Henry III. joined in
person the army led by Guise. Neither the king nor the
duke attempted battle or exploit, until the Germans,
worn and dispirited, began to make their retreat in se-
parate bands. Guise attacked some of these, and in-
dulged his propensities for slaughter. His partisans
extolled his success, which considerably increased his
popularity; whilst the imbecile monarch of France sunk
deeper every day in absurdity and insignificance. Like
many silly persons, the king was prodigiously fond of
sumptuous funerals. That of Joyeuse was magnificent
beyond example, and consoled the monarch for the loss
of his friend. Epcrnon, created duke, was now the sur-
viving minion; and he monopolised the extravagant fa-
vour of Henry. His insolence and prodigality accorded
with his situation, and tended to increase and keep alive
the contempt entertained by the people for their so-
vereign. Henry now created him admiral of France,
and gave him the government of Normandy.
Such absurd prodigality of honours, towards a mere
minion, at the very time when the successes of Guise
claimed reward, excited the indignation of the duke, and
of the Parisians, who adored him. The catholics had in
part caught up the religious fervour, the scriptural allu-
sions, and the turns of expression, peculiar to the hu-
z 2
340 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1588.
guenots. Guise was their Gideon, their Maccabeus, the
rod of the heretics, the saviour and support of the ortho-
dox. The citizens of Paris, at the instigation of the
league, had organised their means of resistance. The
town was divided into sixteen quarters, each of which
appointed a deputy; and thus was formed a council of
sixteen, or seize. The body was known by the name of
the Seize. They drew up a muster-roll of the armed
citizens, and found their numerical amount to be 20,000.
This was an army on which the league might depend.
In the commencement of 1588, the Guises sum-
moned a meeting of their partisans at Nancy. The
Parisians were earnest in entreating the duke to de-
clare himself openly, and dethrone the imbecile Henry.
But Guise still hesitated. Catholic historians vaunt,
amongst other virtues, the resolution of the duke; yet
never was conspirator more deficient in that necessary
quality. In reply, the duke urged the Parisians of them-
selves to seize the king, while they joined in one of his
devout processions ; and he sent some of his followers to
organise and direct the attempt. The sixteen did not
want either zeal or courage to follow this advice, by
which Guise sought to reap the advantage, without in-
curring the peril. But the citizens had one amongst them,
named Poulain, who betrayed all their measures to the
court. Henry, in consequence, kept himself close in the
Louvre, and the plans of capture became impracticable.
Epernon was despatched to Normandy to make sure of
the principal towns, and to muster such a force as might
awe the capital.
The sixteen, finding their intrigues discovered, were
moved by fear of punishment, in addition to their zeal
and their hatred towards the king : they therefore sent
a fresh summons to Guise, entreating him to proceed to
Paris, and brave the monarch openly. The duke could
no longer recede, without fear of disgusting his party.
He summoned resolution, though without any very fixed
plan, and advanced towards Paris. On his way he received
a mandate from Henry not to approach. He, however.
1588. GXJISE ENTERS PARIS. 341
continued his march, for the purpose, he said, of plead-
ing his own cause. His entry into Paris took place on
the 9th of May. No troops accompanied him ; but the
citizens soon formed around him the most formidable
escort, even kissing his garments, and displaying other
signs of extravagant affection.
Instead of proceeding to his own hotel the duke
alighted at that of the queen-mother, who was startled,
and even terrified at the visit. Guise, however, appeased
her fears by such good humour and gaiety, and such
professions of loyalty, that Catherine proposed that they
should both set out to the Louvre to visit the king.
Catherine loved above all things to effect reconciliation,
to be herself the arbiter, and to negotiate the terms.
Guise consented. His consent strikes me as an act of
irresolution, not of courage. Catherine sent word pri-
vately to the Louvre, that she was coming thither with
the duke of Guise. Henry was thunderstruck at his
enemy's boldness. What did he seek ? For what pur-
pose did he thus come, to brave him? The king
asked advice of those near him. A colonel of his guards
declared that he was ready to run Guise through the
body. Henry applauded his zeal, but bade him wait
the signal. The abbe d'Elbene gave the same advice.
" Strike the shepherd," said he, " and the sheep will
disperse." But Henry was irresolute ; and his other
counsellors, who feared the consequences of exasperating
the populace, advised that no attempt should be made
upon the duke's life. In the midst of this consultation
the queen and Guise arrived. The Louvre was full of
guards, whom the duke took care to salute with his
wonted affability. But Crillon, their commander, gave
way to a gesture of impatience and contempt, which
startled Guise, and showed him all the danger of his
position. Consultations were still going on in the king's
chamber, when Catherine and the duke entered. There
was no time for dissimulation. Henry showed all his
anger. " Did I not forbid you to approach Paris ? "
were the words with which he addressed the duke. The
z 3
342 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1588.
latter partly denied having received the express order,
and partly excused himself for disobeying it. Henry
listened to something that Bellievre whispered to
him, still looking steadfastly on the duke. Catherine
approached the king at the moment, and Guise could
hear her using the language of dissuasion. He saw that it
was a question whether to slay or spare him ; and saw
also that fear of the multitude, whose clamours were
heard from without, alone saved him from the medi-
tated blow. Henry seemed convinced by the arguments
of Catherine. Guise, pretending fatigue, hastily retired.
Whatever were the previous views or resolves of
Guise, the danger that had menaced him in the inter-
view determined him in future to keep no terms with
the king. On reaching his hotel, in the rue St. Antoine,
he summoned the sixteen, and made arrangements for
an immediate revolt. He had, nevertheless, two days
after, another interview with Henry, when he took care
to be well guarded : it was Catherine who arranged it,
in the hope of an accommodation ; but it proved
fruitless.
On the morning of the 12th of May, a large body of
troops arrived to reinforce the Swiss and French guards.
Henry ordered them to occupy the principal positions of
the capital. The sight of the soldiers was a signal plain
enough for the Parisians, who, instructed by Guise,
instantaneously set about forming barricades in every
street. Chains extended from house to house ; carts
and barrels formed their hasty intrenchments, which
were heaped and filled with earth. Crillon, who had
orders to keep the communication open betwixt the
Louvre and the Bastille, was obliged to retreat from the
rue St. Antoine. Notwithstanding his reinforcements
the king was prisoner in his palace. Almost whilst I
write, Paris has seen a renewal of these identical barri-
cades, which tradition might have counselled. Some
coincidences are singular. The barricade of the rue
St. Antoine was in both cases first attacked. The
Louvre has been in the nineteenth, as it was in the six*
1588. FLIGHT OP THE KINO. 343
teenth century, the head-quarters of French and Swiss
guards mingled. The Swiss were doomed then, as since,
to slaughter. A post of them was surrounded in the
Cemetery of the Innocents, now the market of the same
name, and slain by the partisans of the league, notwith-
standing their supplicating cries of Bon catholique,
bon catholique ! The king was at length obliged to fly
from his palace, and take refuge, first at Chartres, and
then at Rouen.
Many of the historians of the time cast blame alike
on Henry for not having assassinated Guise, and on
Guise for allowing Henry to escape. The crime out of
the question, Guise was not sorry for the king's flight.
The traitor wanted audacity, and always crouched in
his sovereign's presence ; but now he was master of the
capital, and of a potent force, he was no longer over*
shadowed or controlled. His efforts were directed to le-
galise his usurpation, and his first attempt was to bend
the president, Achille de Harlai, to his views. De
Harlai looked at Guise, and then replied, " 'Tig
pitiable when the valet expels his master ; as for me,
my soul belongs to my Maker, and my fidelity to the
king ; my body alone is in the hands of the wicked.
You talk of assembling the parliament : when the ma
jesty of the prince is violated, the magistrate is without
authority."
This opposition, as well as the inch'nation of the
Parisians themselves, after the excitation of their revolt
was over, to treat with the king and make use of his
name at least, led Guise into more moderate measures.
He proposed an arrangement, on condition that he should
be appointed lieutenant-general of the kingdom, and
that the states-general should be summoned at Blois to
decide existing differences. Henry was weak enough to
accede to these terms, and to sanction them by an edict
of union, to the great discontent of Epernon, who at
this juncture showed an indignant spirit that did him
honour. As for Guise, his whole attentions were wisely
directed towards the composition of the states, and the
z 4
344 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1588.
appointment of deputies in his interest. For this he
postponed the war against the king of Navarre, and
overlooked the feeble acts of the king, who showed his
authority at this time by totally changing the members
of his council.
The opening of the states took place at Blois on the
l6th of October. The duke of Guise, as grand master
of the household, presided over the arrangements. The
king, than whom no one knew better how to support
dignity upon occasion, spoke with mildness and address,
venturing a slight reflection upon the turbulence of the
late events ; as if to try the temper of the assembly.
Their silence showed them fully in the interests of the
league ; and Henry was obliged to retrench the offensive
words in the copy of his speech that was printed. Guise
henceforth began to advance in his demands. He wish-
ed to be constable as well as lieutenant-general, and to
have a guard ; but Henry showed adroitness in parrying
all these attacks against his authority on the part of the
states, as well as on that of the duke. The king, indeed,
was superior in sagacity at this time to his rival, who
proceeded irresolutely and vaguely, but gradually, to-
wards the goal of his ambition. Henry saw clearly that
it was now a struggle for life and death between him
and the usurper. One must fall ; and he, in falling,
would probably not be spared. He therefore made his
resolve, one from which it might be said that an
accomplice of Charles IX. on St. Bartholomew's eve
need not shrink. It was a crime ; yet if the past
weakness of Henry had not constituted the force of
Guise, never would crime have been more amply excused
by a sense of self-preservation 'and necessity.
Henry determined, in a word, to assassinate the duke.
He consulted the brave Crillon. That soldier proposed
to challenge Guise, and by sacrificing his own life in
the combat make sure of slaying his adversary. He
spurned the proposal to act the assassin, but promised
to keep the king's secret. Henry found others less
scrupulous than Crillon. Guise, in the mean time, was
1588. GUISE ASSASSINATED. 345
repeatedly warned of these hostile intentions : he affected
to despise them, but he took every precaution. The
king summoned a council to be held on the morning of
the 23d of December : he wished, he said, to have the
rest of the day for a party of pleasure. So early, Guise
was not attended by his intimate band. As he mounted
the stairs to council, the officers of the guard surrounded
him, and used the most supplicating entreaties that he
would procure for them their month's pay. This crowd
of petitioners kept off the duke's friends, and he entered
the council chamber alone. Here, however, were num-
bers : the council was, in fact, assembled. Yet Guise,
it is said, felt a misgiving : he was even unwell, and
was obliged to call for a restoring draught. Perhaps he
recollected the entreaties of his mistress, who that morn-
ing in vain endeavoured to dissuade him from attending
the council. At this moment the king sent to summon
Guise to his cabinet : the duke obeyed, and was engaged
in lifting the tapestry of the door, when he was beset,
his sword seized, and his body pierced by a number of
wounds. His brother, the cardinal de Guise, was sent
to prison, where he was soon after despatched by the
halberds of his guards. Thus perished the original
planners of the massacre of St. Bartholomew. Those
who see the vengeance of heaven declared in the violent
deaths of the perpetrators, in the misfortunes and ex-
tinction of their race, are not contradicted by these events.
Twelve days after the assassination of the Guises
expired the queen-mother, Catherine of Medicis, almost
forgotten in the turmoil of the moment. Indeed, for a
long time she had been usee, according to the French
expression, which may mean " morally worn out." No
individual had ever produced a more pernicious effect
upon a country, than she had produced upon France.
She introduced those habits of dissimulation and Ma-
chiavelian policy for which her country was famed.
She taught them to her children, and communicated
them to her court. When united, as they were in her,
to extreme licentiousness of private morals, we can
346 HISTORY OF FHAXCE. 1589-
scarcely imagine a more perfect combination of wicked-
ness. Such she became in the acts of her later life,
which, from their enormity and blackness, have cast a
shade over her earlier career ; so that whilst struggling
for tolerance, or listening to the counsels of de 1'Ho-
pital, Catherine is depicted as, even at that time, per-
fidious and ill intentioned. Truth is here sacrificed to
the unity of the picture, to the imaginary consistency of
a character. Human nature contradicts this, and sanc-
tions the common proverb, " That no one of a sudden
becomes a monster." *
The exasperation of the Parisians on learning the
fate of the Guises knew no bounds. It was at first,
indeed, stifled by fear ; but, as the king showed no
vigour to follow up the blow, grief soon burst forth in
the accents of rage. The church was not slow to avenge
its martyrs. The murder of Guise was an inexhaustible
theme of eloquence to the preachers ; that of his brother,
a cardinal, was an impiety beyond the power of language
to execrate. Henry was declared an heretic, an idolater.
Processions were ordered to call down vengeance on the
royal assassin ; the nudity of both sexes, who mingled in
them, being considered the attribute of the ceremony
most acceptable. The church, in its rage, seemed to vie
in absurd frivolity with the monarch whom it attacked.
The priests of one of the principal churches in Paris
made a route, or waxen image, of Henry of Valois, so
the king was now designated ; and the people were told
to prick it devoutly with pins, in order to kill this
modern Herod. More rational measures of hostility
were at the same time taken. The duke of Mayenne,
one of the surviving brothers of Guise, was declared
head of the league. The loyal chiefs of the judicature
were committed to prison. Rome was summoned to
issue its anathemas ; Spain to send her aid ; and an
army marched against Henry, who was now at Tours,
beyond the Loire.
For that monarch there was now no refuge but to fling
- * Nemo repentc fuit turpissimus.
1589- THE KING JOINS HENRY OF NAVARRE. 347
himself into the party of the huguenots and the king
of Navarre. He dreaded and hesitated to take this step.
He was superstitious, and shrunk from an alliance with
heretics ; but the leaguers would not listen to his pro-
posals of accommodation. Bourbon advanced with an
army. He was warned not to trust himself to the
assassin-prince, the perfidious son of Catherine ; but
he dared all, won instantly by his frankness upon the
king, dissipated his mistrust, and the two monarchs
entered into the most cordial understanding. Many
nobles, disgusted with the Guises, and encouraged by
the late acts of rigour, however criminal, rallied to
Henry ; and the latter soon found himself at the head
of a formidable army of united protestants and catholics.
Mayenne had as yet no force capable of resisting him.
Henry marched without opposition to Paris, invested it,
and took up his own quarters at St. Cloud.
The rage of the Parisians increased with their impo-
tence. They had been beaten near Senlis, and could
not hope to defeat the royal army. They made prepar-
ations, however, for a vigorous defence. Of all the par-
tisans of the league none regarded its present distress
with so much impatience as the sister of the late duke
of Guise, the duchess of Montpensier. She had ever been
enthusiastic in its behalf; and was known to wear a pair
of golden scissors for the purpose, she was wont to say,
of marking the tonsure on the head of Henry of Valois,
and thus converting him into a monk. She had now,
however, her brothers to avenge, and all means seemed
justifiable to her.
Among those whom her penetration discerned as fit
instruments of her vengeance, was Jaques Clement, a
young Dominican friar, zealously attached to his reli-
gion, sombre, fanatic, voluptuous. He always announced
the purpose of slaying with his own hand the great
enemy of his faith. But he was far from being resolved
or nerved for the attempt, until the duchess of Mont-
pensier, learning his vague purpose, sent for him, and
excited him by all the inducements of favour, flattery,
348 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 1589-
and condescension, to carry it into execution. Thus
wound up to resolution, and emboldened by the leaguers,
who pretended to imprison one hundred of the most no-
table citizens as hostages for his safety, Clement set out for
St. Cloud. He was provided with letters for Henry from
de Harlai, and from the count de Brienne, both pri-
soners, who were made to consider him a trusty mes-
senger. The friar, thus provided, was taken by the
outposts, of whom he boldly demanded access to speak
with the king. There were some objections made to the
admission of a stranger; but Henry over-ruled them,
observing, that he could not refuse to see an ecclesiastic.
Clement was, therefore, introduced : he fell on his knees,
presented his letters, and whilst Henry was engaged in
opening them, the friar stabbed him in the lower part
of the stomach. The king exclaimed, " The wicked
monk ! he has killed me ;" and, drawing out the knife,
struck Clement with it. The attendants rushed in at the
moment, and slew the assassin. At first the wound was
not considered mortal ; but on the following day its
fatal effects became evident. Henry of Bourbon was
summoned to the dying monarch, who declared him his
successor ; but warned him, that he would never reign
over France unless he abandoned the creed of Calvin.
Henry III. expired on the 2d of August, 1589.
CHAP. X.
1589 1610.
HENRY THE FOURTH.
So far beyond the bounds of common sense and judgment
were men carried by the excitation of party, that the
late imbecile monarch was lamented as a hero in the
camp, whilst among the citizens his murder was cele-
brated as the most glorious triumph. The duchess of
Montpensier flung her arms round the neck of the mes-
1589^ ACCESSION OF HENRY IV. 349
senger who brought the welcome tidings, crying, " Ah,
my friend, is it true ? is the monster veritably dead ?
what a gratification ! I am only grieved to think he
did not know it was I that directed the blow." She
herself then went forth to spread the news. Of all or-
ders of men the priesthood were most delighted : they
were in ecstasies. Clement was declared a saint and a
martyr, nay a deity. A statue was erected to him, with
the inscription, " St. Jaques Clement, pray for us sin-
ners ! " His mother was addressed with the same scrip-
tural salutation that was applied to the mother of our
Lord. Nor was this the mere enthusiasm and fanatic
madness of the subordinate pastors ; the great shepherd,
their infallible head, the pope himself, joined in all
the impiety. The pontiff Sextus V. pronounced in
person a public eulogium on St. Jaques Clement, and on
the act of regicide, which he represented, from the very
chair of St. Peter, as comparable with the incarnation
and resurrection of the Saviour.
The first act meditated by Henry of Bourbon, now,
on the extinction of the line of Valois, king of France
as well as of Navarre, was to give assault to the guilty
capital. But dissension was in his camp. Such im-
pression had the arguments of the league made even
upon its opponents, that the catholic royalists in the
service of the last king hesitated to recognise Henry IV.
as king of France. They at last acknowledged his title;
but this act of acquiescence was accompanied with a re-
quest that he would again adopt the catholic faith.
Henry had never been a bigot ; he was not much
attached to any form of faith. In his childhood he was
a catholic, in his boyhood a protestant, in youth forced
to be a catholic again ; and when he embraced the re-
formed religion on his escape from court, we may sup-
pose him to have been more influenced by resentment
towards his enemies and gratitude towards his friends,
than by any profound conviction. A gallant and a sol-
dier, he was but little addicted to study or reflection ;
and although Henry yielded not to the zealots of either
350 HISTORY OP FRANCE. 158Q.
side in practical piety, and in truly Christian benevolence,
yet it may be supposed that he was very indifferent as
to tenets. In all his manifestoes, from the very com-
mencement of the troubles, he shows himself not averse
to Catholicism. It was the compulsory adoption of it
that he resented. " How," he asked, " was his conver-
sion attempted ? With the dagger to his throat."
Henry had, years before, offended his friend Mornay, a
stern calvinist, by his indifference on this point, and
even previous to his alliance with the late king he had
declared himself open to conviction. He, in fact, al-
ways contemplated his conversion to the catholic faith as
a possibility. His principle was to do this with honour,
to make his conscience yield voluntarily, but never under
circumstances of constraint. He, therefore, at the pre-
sent moment, rejected the demands of the royalists : and
they, with Epemon at their head, abandoned the new
monarch to his h'ttle band of huguenots ; and even that
force, too insignificant to be called an army, Henry was
obliged to divide ; a detachment under one of his cap-
tains being required to oppose the Spaniards, who
threatened an invasion of Picardy. Issuing, therefore,
his first edict, which promised every surety and support
to the catholic religion, and which summoned the states-
general of the kingdom to meet at Tours, in October,
the king retreated towards the sea-coast, resolving to
await, in the neighbourhood of Dieppe, the succours
that he had requested from Elizabeth of England.
The duke of Mayenne, now chief of the league,
caused the cardinal of Bourbon to be declared king, by
the return of the parliament. He was proclaimed under
the unlucky name of Charles X. As this mock monarch
was a prisoner at Tours, Mayenne had no one to inter-
fere with his authority ; and he was himself declared
lieutenant-general of the kingdom. The duke lost no
time in endeavours to signalise his new command. At
the head of upwards of 20,000 men he marched in
pursuit of the huguenots, promising the Parisians to
bring the A r avarroin captive in a few days.
1589- BATTLE OF ARQUES. 351
Henry was near Dieppe with his little army, consist-
ing of 3000 French infantry, two regiments of Swiss,
some lansquenets, and a troop of gallant followers, con-
stituting his cavalry. As soon as he learned Mayenne's
approach he retired from the town, the defences of
which his little army could not man, and posted himself
in and around the castle of Arques, which is northward
of Dieppe, and about four miles distant. Many present
counselled Henry to embark, and put himself in safety
beyond the sea, but Biron opposed this with all his
might. " Here we are in France ; and here let us be
buried," exclaimed he : " fly now, and all your hopes
vanish with the wind that bears you." The words
which Biron spoke were accordant to the resolution of
his master ; and every effort was henceforth directed to
entrench the camp, which stretched from the chateau of
Arques to the little village of the same name. The
advanced post was a lazaretto or hospital for lepers.
Mayenne arrived with his army in sight of Arques,
about the middle of September, and betrayed the dila-
toriness of his disposition in hesitating and making
divers partial attacks. The cannon of the chateau pro-
tected the royal army; and Mayenne, with all his supe-
riority, was not confident that he should carry the
intrenchments. At length, on the 23d, he prepared to
keep his promise of overpowering the king. He attacked
the lazaretto with a large force of lansquenets. On
Henry's side fought also a few of those German merce-
naries. After some skirmishing the lansquenets of the
league advanced ; not, however, in hostile attitudes, but
with their caps on their pikes, and shouting " Vive Je
roi !". in token of amity. Their compatriots within the
intrenchments welcomed them, and even helped them
to get between the lines. The assault being at the same
time given on other points, the lansquenets, either chang-
ing their minds, or acting upon a treacherous intention,
formed at the very first, and ran upon the Swiss with their
pikes. The leaguers poured over the intrenchments in
the confusion : Biron was surrounded : from the very first
352 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1589-
the stoutest friends of Henry gave up the battle, and
looked upon his cause as lost. The monarch was almost
deserted ; his nobles had sallied out to charge the cavalry
of the enemy, and there was, at the very moment, a
sanguinary conflict and melee of cavaliers upon the
plain. " In all France are there not fifty gentlemen to
die with their king ?" cried Henry in despair, and he
seized a lance to fight with the Swiss. Chatillon, the
son of Coligny, had just come up, and was near enough
to hear his prince's ejaculation. He answered it by
uniting his efforts to those of Henry. The Swiss by
this time had rallied : the fifty gentlemen whom the
king in despair had summoned were by his side ; Henry
charged at their head the successful leaguers, routed the
lansquenets, and drove them back over the intrench-
ments. The lazaretto itself was soon freed, and May-
enne was completely worsted.
It was after this victory that Henry IV. wrote to
Crillon, " Hang thyself, brave Crillon ! we have fought
at Arques, and thou wast not there. Adieu ! brave
Crillon ! je vous aime a tort et d trovers."
The leaguers retreated to Picardy, in hopes of being
supported by the Spaniards. Henry, reinforced by the
long expected English, advanced to Paris, and well nigh
surprised the affrighted capital. The tower and gate de
Nesle, situated where the Institute now stands, was then
the limit of Paris.* La Noue swam his horse round by
the river, but was driven back by musketry ; whilst the
petard applied by Chatillon to the gate would not ex-
plode. The royalists avenged themselves by the plunder
of the Fauxbourg St. Germain, which yielded a rich
booty. Sully had 3000 crowns for his share. There
was much cruelty on both sides ; the Parisians hanging
those whom they suspected, and Biron retaliating on the
prisoners he had made. Winter did not interrupt the
fury of the war, which raged all through the kingdom.
Henry employed his arms in reducing several towns in
* There is a picture by Wouvermans in the Louvre, which represents the
Tour de Nesle, then the gate of Paris, with the Pont Neuf in the distance.
1590. BATTLE OF 1VRY. 358
Normandy. In the spring of 1590 he was engaged in
the siege of Dreux, when the duke of Mayenne, rein-
forced by a body of Spaniards, advanced to relieve the
town, and try his fortune once more in war against
Bourbon.
The king did not tarry at Dreux, but advanced to the
rencontre. The two armies came in presence on the
evening of the 13th of March. Both encamped on the
plain of Ivry, destined, on the morrow, to be the field of
battle. The leaguers amounted to 1 6,000; the royalists
were far inferior in number. On the eve of action,
de Schomberg, the general of the German auxiliaries,
was pressed by his troops to ask Henry for their pay.
The king, destitute of funds, was irritated at the request.
" A man of courage," he replied, " would not have
asked for money on the eve of battle." The next morn-
ing, while preparing for action, Henry perceived the
general, and thus accosted him : " Schomberg, I have
insulted you, and as this day may be the last of my life,
I would not carry away the honour of a gentleman, and
be unable to restore it. I know your valour, and ask
your pardon : embrace me." " Your majesty wounded
me yesterday you kill me to-day," replied the veteran,
overcome ; and he spoke truth, for he perished in the
battle.
The king was most in dread of the Spanish lances.
His own cavalry, composed of gentlemen volunteers, had
long since rejected the lance as troublesome, and fought
with sword and pistol. Henry, therefore, divided them
into small squadrons, that if one was broken, it might
rally to the others ; and he thus favoured his mode of
fighting, which was rather the ordering of combats man
to man, than the manoeuvring and shock of masses.*
Cavalry and infantry were mingled, regiment supported
regiment, and Biron commanded a corps of reserve.
After a prayer, in which Henry joined, he addressed his
officers ere he gave the signal, desiring, that if they
* This, no doubt, is the reason why Bonaparte spoke so slightingly of
Henry Quatre as a general.
VOL. I. A A
354 HISTORY OP FRANCE.
should be obliged to quit the field, they would rally
towards three trees, which he pointed out on the right ;
" and if astray," added he, " follow my white plume ;
you will find it ever on the road to honour and to vic-
tory."
There was little order in the action : on one wing the
Germans of the league behaved ill and yielded ; on the
other the royalists were beaten, but Biron rallied them
with reinforcements. The combat was decided by the
central force of either army ; the count d'Egmont lead-
ing the Spaniards, and Mayenne the gentlemen of his
party, against the king. The leaguers were marshalled
too closely together. Henry's squadron got among them,
and a sanguinary melee ensued. The king was reported
to be killed, but soon showed his white plume in the
path that he had promised. Egmont was slain. The
standard-bearer of Mayenne fell by Henry's own hand ;
and the army of the leaguers was routed and driven from
the ground. Biron had overlooked the fight, reinforced
weak points, and rallied fugitives, whilst the monarch
himself fought. " Sire," said Biron, after the action,
" we changed places : you did Biron's duty ; Biron
yours." Sully, the friend of Henry, was found dis-
abled by a number of wounds on the field of battle.
The victory of Ivry enabled the king to reduce ah 1 the
small towns around Paris, and finally to invest the ca-
pital. His soldiers were anxious to take the city by
storm, and wreak vengeance on the stronghold of the
league. But Henry sought to spare his capital, and to
reduce it by winning rather than by forfeiting the esteem
of its inhabitants. He at the same time formed a
blockade, purposing, through famine, to subdue his ene-
mies. Mayenne had gone to Flanders, to seek aid from
Farnese, prince of Parma, general of king Philip in that
country. The duke of Nemours, uterine brother of the
Guises, commanded in the capital, supported by the
Spanish ambassador Mendoza, and the legate of the
pope. These personages exerted themselves to the ut-
most in engaging the Parisians to support the privations
1590. PARIS BESIEGED. S55
of a siege. The priesthood walked in procession, armed
with sword and casque, and were reviewed by the legate,
who was much alarmed by the joyous firing of these
awkward recruits. Henry tried, by negotiation, to bring
the Parisians to terms, but the fanatical party was too
powerful. By way of menace, the huguenots assaulted
and took all the fauxbourgs, or suburbs, in one night ;
the king overlooking the general attack from his quar-
ters on Montmartre. The besieged were at length re-
duced to extremities, and began to eat all kinds of
loathsome aliments, carrion, ground bones, and even
human flesh. Their numbers were estimated at 230,000.*
The duke of Nemours sent away the useless mouths :
Henry took pity on the people thus driven forth, and
suffered them to pass his lines ; nay, he was even moved
with compassion towards the stubborn city, and granted
a passage to several convoys of provisions for its relief.
Mayenne, however, approached with the prince of
Parma, and Henry was obliged to leave his quarters
at Montmartre to combat the Spaniards. This diversion
was the sole aim of Farnese, who, retreating from the
king, fell suddenly upon Lagny, a town commanding
the course of the Marne, and took it. Provisions of all
kinds immediately floated down to Paris. In vain the
king challenged Farnese to action. The latter replied,
" It was the business of the king to force him." This
Henry could not do ; and the prince, having fully suc-
ceeded in relieving Paris, retired again into the Low
Countries.
This disappointment, at the moment when the royal-
ists were expecting to make themselves masters of the
capital, was almost tantamount to a defeat. The army,
as usual, became in a great measure disbanded when its
aim was gone; and, in the state of languor and inac-
tivity imposed on both sides, fresh parties sprang up,
* Perefixe estimates the population of Paris in that day at 300,000 ; but
this must appear an exaggeration, if we consider that the fauxhourgs were
not included. He says it was double that number in Louis XIV. 's reign,
an estimate also exaggerated, since Paris at the present moment does not
contain 900,000 inhabitants.
A A 2
356 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1590.
and fresh intrigues were die consequence. Mayenne was
crossed by the Spaniards and the duke of Nemours. Henry
was pestered on one side by the catholics, who besought
his conversion ; on the other by the huguenots, who
threatened to abandon him if he took such a step. That
he had long meditated it, there is no doubt. On his ac-
cession he had promised to re-examine his conscience,
and to listen to the arguments of the orthodox. Policy,
not conviction, was now the chief, if not the only argu-
ment with him, in estimating creeds. The old cardinal
of Bourbon, the Charles X. of the league, was dead. His
nephew, now cardinal of Bourbon, began, though in the
interests of Henry, to entertain projects of ambition. He
succeeded in forming a new third party of catholics, op-
posed, however, to Mayenne, to Spain, and to the league;
attached to Henry, yet insisting on his conversion as in-
dispensable. The act which had been loudly demanded
by queen Elizabeth and the German princes, from whom
the king was then expecting aid, that celebrated edict
in favour of the protestants, the first that Henry issued,
at once offended the new party and strengthened the
league. The king was glad to escape from these in-
trigues to feats of war, by which, had he possessed funds
or armies, he would have soon decided the question, and
cut the Gordian knot of religious differences. He was
this year, however, obliged to confine himself to petty
enterprises. He took Chartres, and laid siege to Rouen.
Mayenne instantly summoned the prince of Parma to
march to the relief of this town. The prince negotiated,
and refused to stir until the town of La Fere was de-
livered to him. Philip II. had, in fact, separated his in-
terests from those of Mayenne : he now sought to turn
the league to his own advantage ; a selfish policy, that
contributed more than any other cause to establish Henry
on his throne. To this throne Philip hoped to elevate
his daughter the infanta, whom the young duke of Guise
was to espouse. The pope's legate seconded his views,
and Spanish gold gained the sixteen, who governed the
municipality of Paris.
1592. SIEGE OF ROUEN. 357
The duke of Mayenne was at Soissons, expecting the
army of Farnese, when the sixteen sought to consum-
mate their authority. The personages who most stood
in their way were the chiefs of the parliament, and
Brisson, who, during the captivity of Harlai and of the
loyal members, had been promoted to the presidency.
He had become disgusted with the ferocity of the six-
teen, and had shown this in his judgments. A surrep-
titious order was procured for the execution of this
magistrate and two of his fellows ; and it was instantly
carried into effect by Bussi, a red-hot leaguer. This out-
rage disgusted and roused the citizens. Mayenne was
called to the capital. The murderers of Brisson, with
the exception of Bussi, were themselves hanged, and the
Parisians applauded the retribution. The sixteen were
deprived of their authority; and Mayenne, now aware
of the perfidy of Spain and the fickleness of the mob,
regained the influence with which he might either oppose
or treat with Henry.
The king pressed the siege of Rouen, when word was
brought that the prince of Parma had again entered
France. Leaving Biron in command of the siege, Henry
marched to meet him ; but had not force sufficient to
warrant his giving battle. At the head of merely a re-
connoitring party of an hundred horse, he was surprised
at Aumale by the prince of Parma's advanced guard.
Sully begged him to retire; but Henry, ever anxious to
exchange blows, fought in the rear; was exposed to the
most imminent danger ; and received a wound, fortun-
ately but slight, from a pistol-shot. It was on this occa-
sion that queen Elizabeth begged of him not to expose
his person so rashly. Mornay wrote, that " he had long
enough played the part of Alexander : it was time for
him to act Augustus."
This glory, however, served but to veil the disasters
of the campaign. Biron's force was routed by a sally of
the Rouennois, and the siege was completely raised.
Henry's bravest captains now began to fall around him.
La Noue had not long before perished in battle. Biron
A A 3
358 HISTORY OP FRANCE.
was carried away by a cannon-shot at Epernay. The
force of the royalists alone could never, without con-
cessions, reduce the stubborn spirits of the league in
obedience to Henry. He therefore began seriously to
meditate on the expediency of taking the grand step of
recantation.
The states-general assembled at Paris in the com-
mencement of the year ] 593. The duke of Mayenne,
who trembled for his influence, attempted to divide the
assembly into five estates, placing the court, the great
officers of the crown, and governors of provinces, apart
from the small noblesse. The judicial body, or pre-
sidents of parliament, were also to be apart, as in the
time of Henry II. But this was over-ruled ; and the
ancient division of three estates prevailed. The avowed
object of the assembly was to elect a king. All agreed
that the existence of a protestant king was inadmissible;
a principle not irrational for zealous catholics, consider-
ing that the monarch was to possess absolute power, and
that his ordinances were to be laws. The wonder is,
that no guaranty was imagined in the form of a repre-
sentative body, invested with the right of assembling
and of sharing in legislative functions. But this amal-
gamation of monarchy and liberty was not yet consi-
dered feasible. Anxieties for freedom were lost in the
zeal for religious ascendancy; and all those fiery dema-
gogues, who represented the popular spirit, were in-
oculated with the bigotry, and bought with the gold,
of Spain.
There were, in fact, but three parties in the states.
First, the politiques, or catholics ; anxious not to inter-
rupt the legitimate line of succession, provided Henry
would recant. At the head of this were the great per-
sonages of the judicature. The second was the party
of Mayenne, the aristocracy of the league ; wavering
and unfixed in their choice and determinations. The
third, and the most powerful, was that of Spain, sup-
ported by the legate. They argued, that the Salic law
was not fundamental ; that females might succeed and
1593- POLITICAL PARTIES. 359
reign in France ; and that Philip's daughter, the infanta,
had the best claim to the crown, in the right of her
mother Elizabeth, daughter of Henry II.
The views of the latter party were crossed by an
expedient which the king adopted, that of despatching
a request for an interview between the catholic nobles
of the army and those of the states. It took place at
Suresne, notwithstanding the dissuasions of the legate,
and the opposition of the Spaniards, who were still more
mortified at learning that Henry, in the very opening
of the conference, gave it to be understood that he was
willing to be converted. In fact, he was already en-
gaged in listening to the most learned doctors of the
catholics; while very many of the protestants, even of
the protestant divines, counselled him to accept Catho-
licism rather than perpetuate the civil war. The legate
and the Spanish party exerted themselves to do away
the effect of this concession. The legate threatened to
withdraw from the city, if negotiations were entered
into with a relapsed heretic, so he styled Henry. The
duke of Feria, relying too confidently on the Spanish
party in the states, proposed openly that the crown
should be voted to the infanta, who was to marry a
German prince. This proposal, though often mooted,
and not disapproved in private meetings, excited the ill
humour of the assembly, and especially incensed the
bishop of Sens, who, though a zealous leaguer, burst
forth into an invective against the selfishness of the
Spaniard. The old party of the league were highly of-
fended at the condition coupled with the proposal, by
which a German prince was to be brought forward. An
amendment was devised; and the Spanish party pro-
mised that the infanta, in the case of her election, should
espouse a prince of France or of Lorraine. This flattered
many competitors. The duke of Savoy became one of
their number, as did the cardinal of Bourbon, one of the
royalists of Henry's camp. The young duke of Guise,
had, however, the fairest hopes of the rich prize, when
the royalists of the league took a. decisive step in Henry's
A A 4
30 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1593.
favour. Incited by the president Lemaitre, and Mole,
one of its chief officers, the parliament of Paris issued
a decree, declaring that the Salic law was in force, and
could not be abrogated ; and that the crown of France
could not pass to a stranger. Such a step as this required
eminent courage, considering that the successive chiefs
of the parliament had been imprisoned and murdered
for opposing the league. The fate of Brisson was of very
recent occurrence. At present, fortunately, the sixteen
were no more; and the demagogues in the Spanish in-
terest had lost influence over the people, who suffered
for want of provisions, and who now at last began to
long for peace. This act of courage on the part of the
judicature gave a severe check to the league ; and, by the
abjuration of the king, which took place in July, in the
cathedral of St. Denis, it received a blow from which it
could not be recovered by all the money of Spain or the
anathemas of the legate.
Henceforward almost the only victories of Henry
were those which he won over the hearts of his subjects
by his generosity, magnanimity, and patience. He
granted a truce ; he extended it, and showed the utmost
reluctance to use the sword, though the Parisians still
refused to receive him. The irresolute Mayenne had
again united his interests with those of Spain; but the
zeal of both had cooled; and the duke still remained at
enmity with the king, more from shame to submit than
from any hopes of successful resistance. Henry un-
ceasingly pursued the paths of conciliation. His am-
bassadors wore out the hostilities of the court of Rome,
where cardinal d'Ossat supported by his talents the
interests and character of his master. The extrava-
gant enthusiasm of the league had evaporated ; in part
it had been reasoned down by the mild and rational
philosophy promulgated in the Essays of Montaigne,
and in part scouted by the poignant ridicule of the
Satire Menippee. These are the two chief literary
works of the epoch ; the former sufficiently known to
every reader, the latter one of the finest specimens of
1594. BRISSAC TREATS WITH HEXRY. 36l
political satire to be found in any language. It proved
to the leaguers what Hudibras proved to the English
puritans ; it exposed the absurdity and hidden sel-
fishness of fanaticism, and showed that ridicule might
be made a more effectual weapon than the sword.
As the influence of the league daily declined, even in
the capital, its remaining zealots exerted themselves to
stay the downfall of their cause. An assassin was su-
borned to make away with Henry IV. by the same
mode in which Henry III. had been removed. The
chief of the Jesuits in Paris, and a popular curate,
united to hire a person named Barrere for this diabolical
purpose. But Barrere wanted the zeal of Jaques Cle-
ment; missed his opportunity at one time, became faint-
hearted at another, was seized, and confessed his purpose
and its instigators. The open measures of defence
adopted by Mayenne were not more successful. He in
vain endeavoured to secure Paris to the league by re-
suscitating the power of the sixteen and of the rabble,
which he himself had formerly crushed. He removed
the military governor, and appointed in his place Brissac,
who might, he thought, be trusted. The duke's own
want of confidence, however, was betrayed by his quit-
ting the capital and bringing his family along with him.
Brissac failed not to treat with Henry ; and it was
arranged between them that the king should make his
entry into Paris on the 22d of March.
On the day previous Brissac took occasion to despatch
a body of the Spanish garrison to surprise a convoy of
provisions which, he pretended, were for the army of
Henry. Under similar pretexts he dispersed and wearied
the troops most attached to the league. The Spanish
envoy, the duke of Feria, conceived some suspicions,
and communicated them to Brissac, who affected the
utmost zeal and activity, and summoned the principal
citizens to the Hotel de Ville. To them he frankly
disclosed his intentions, which were warmly seconded
by L'Huillier, provost of the merchants, and by the
sheriffs of the city. Every preparatory measure was
862 HISTORY OF FUAXCE. 1 5Q4:.
taken. The troops of Henry were to arrive by two in
the morning at the gates, which were opened and un-
blocked. Henry hesitated long ; he was fully aware of
the danger of engaging in the narrow streets of a city,
which had shown itself so inveterate, and amidst a
population whose fanatic zeal might be roused by a
chance word or a random shot. The enterprise pros-
pered, however, beyond his wishes. The sixteen and
their partisans were either scattered, or blockaded in
their houses : every gate and post of importance through-
out the city was in the hands of the royalists ere day
lighted up the triumph of the king to the awakened
eyes of those who were not in the secret. But a single
post of Spanish troops made resistance, and theirs was
the only blood that was shed upon this joyous occasion.
Henry having been presented with the keys by the
provost L'Huillier, and having invested Brissac with
the white sash of the Bourbon party, in lieu of the
embroidered one, of which the marshal made an offering,
entered his capital by the Porte Neuve, or New Gate,
which was opposite the Tuileries, and within the pre-
cincts of that palace. No voice save those of acclama-
tion hailed him, whilst he proceeded to return thanks
in the cathedral of Notre Dame. He then took up his
quarters in the Louvre, and dined in public. In the
afternoon of the same memorable day, he proceeded to
a window near the gate of St. Denis, in order to see the
Spanish garrison march out of the city. " Commend
me to your master," said Henry, saluting these sullen
auxiliaries of the league : " depart in peace, but let us
never see you here again."
To subdue the provinces was an easy task after the
reduction of the capital. None could longer make re-
sistance on the plea of principle, and Henry was forward
to satisfy the selfishness or ambition of every noble.
Montmorency, who had declared for the king before his
conversion, was created constable : he was governor of
Languedoc, and his influence kept the proud duke of
Epernon in check. Bretagne still held out under the
1594. CONQUEST OF LA ON. 363
duke of Mercosur ; but the surrender of Rouen by
Villars secured the important province of Normandy.
Villars demanded the place of admiral as the price of
Rouen : Henry had already bestowed this office on Bi-
ron, a brave young follower, the son of the late marshal.
Biron, impetuous and quick, but rash and fickle in
temper, instantly resigned ; a generous act of sacrifice
that he failed not speedily to regret. Henry marched
against Mayenne, besieged and took Laon, before which
town he lost the gallant Givri, who exposed himself
from the hopeless love which he bore to one of the
daughters of Guise. A letter of Henry to this young
noble ran in these terms : " Thy victories prevent my
sleeping. Adieu Givri ! Here's food for thy vanity ! "
The conquest of Laon, notwithstanding the efforts of
the Spaniards to relieve it, might serve as a demon-
stration throughout the kingdom, that the league and
its chief, Mayenne, possessed no longer the force to
resist. Picardy therefore submitted, not, however,
without an arrogant stipulation made on the part of
Amiens, that no troops should be admitted within its
walls. In a little time the towns of Champagne also
resumed their allegiance. The young duke of Guise
bowed the knee before his sovereign, and made a merit
of bringing the adhesion of the town of Rheims.
After the capture of Laon, Mayenne returned into
Burgundy, where he confirmed his strength by decapi-
tating the principal burgesses of Dijon, who meditated
a surrender to the king. The war also continued in
Provence, where Lesdiguieres, Henry's general, opposed
the duke of Savoy, who had aimed, during the troubles
of the civil war, to carve out for himself a little sove-
reignty from the south-east of France. Negotiations
continued with the pope, to whom Henry was most
anxious to be reconciled. The pontiff held out hopes in
secret, whilst he publicly maintained the most frigid
and insulting demeanour towards the French ambas-
sador. The king used every means of evincing the sin-
cerity of his recantation. He joined in public proces-
364 HISTOnY OF FRANCE. 1 5Q5.
sions, and paid the most devout attention to the cere-
monies of the church. The same spirit of conciliation
led him to be lenient towards the Jesuits, whom the
university now persecuted before the parliament as the
abettors of regicide and assassination. They were pro-
tected by the quiescence of the king, who already forgave
the attempt made by Barrere upon his life. He had
reason to regret his forbearance, when in the December
of this year, amidst the felicitations of his court, who
crowded round him on his return from Picardy, a stroke
of a dagger was aimed at his face. It pierced his mouth,
and fortunately came against a tooth, which it broke.
The assassin was Jean Chatel, a native of Paris, and a
pupil of the Jesuits. He had, it seems, been an aban-
doned sinner, so deep in crime, that no penance could
be devised by his priestly confessor great enough to
expiate his faults, save that of slaying an heretic prince
with his own hand. He undertook to perform this act
of penitence on the person of Henry ; and, happily for
his country, failed. He was tortured and torn by four
horses, and the order of the Jesuits was expelled from
the kingdom. " Was it necessary," said Henry, al-
luding gaily to his wound, " that the Jesuits should be
convicted by my mouth ? "
The following year was employed by the king in
subduing the provinces of the south-east. He marched
against Mayenne, who was supported by the Spaniards,
under the constable of Castile. There was no regular
engagement, and but two skirmishes took place ; in the
first of which, at Fontaine Francaise, Henry fought as
at Aumale, with a few hundred horse against the enemy's
van-guard, and completely routed it. Biron had similar
success on another occasion, and the Spaniards were
driven out of France. Mayenne was about to retire to
Spain, when a message from the king allowed him to
return to Chalons, and gave assurance that the door
of reconciliation and pardon was yet open even to him.
In a short time afterwards, the pope granted full abso-
lution to Henry, and acknowledged him as the Most
1595. DISCONTENTS OF THE HUGUENOTS. 365
Christian King. Mayenne, upon this, pretended that all
his scruples were removed. He made submission, and
received pardon ; and this stubborn chief of the league
proved afterwards far more faithful to Henry than the
huguenot comrades who had fought with him from the
commencement of the war.
The king was now doomed to find enemies in his
ancient partisans ; and it must be owned that the pro-
testants had some cause for discontent. All the great
offices and governments at the disposal of the state had
been distributed to the catholic leaders, as the price of
their submission. Not only to obtain that submission,
but to conciliate the pope, Henry consented to follow
the counsel of the catholics chiefly. He had not issued
to the calvinists a satisfactory guaranty of their rights ;
and whilst even Mayenne, the crushed and conquered
Mayenne, had provinces under his command, as well as
towns and fortresses of surety, the huguenots had still
to confide solely in the honour and forbearance of the
king. Doubtless to these just causes of complaint the
selfish cravings of private ambition were added. The
party of the reformers began in consequence to raise its
head, no longer in support of the king but in inde-
pendence of him, and manifested a kind of inert oppo-
sition. The chiefs of the huguenots were La Tremouille
and the duke de Bouillon. The latter has been known
to the reader, in our recital of the early part of the war,
as La Tour d'Auvergne viscount de Turenne. By mar-
rying the heiress of the de la Mark family, he inherited
the duchy of Bouillon, which Henry, indeed, secured to
him ; but, nevertheless, against which there were many
rival claimants to disquiet the new duke.
Owing to this discontent of the reformers, and to their
withholding the aid on which he always counted, Henry
was unable to carry on with vigour the war which he
had declared against Spain. The open resistance of the
league did not distress him so much as the neutrality of
the huguenots. The Spaniards, commanded by the
archduke Albert, took Calais, and ravaged Artois. The
366
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
king applied to queen Elizabeth on this occasion, who
immediately demanded the restitution of Calais as the
price of her aid. " You must excuse me," answered
Henry; " I would rather be robbed by my enemies than
by my friends." But Elizabeth was at that time still
indignant on account of Henry's recantation.
Acknowledged by the pope and by the chiefs of the
extinct league, the king no longer feared to convoke a
national assembly in order to recruit his funds. It was
not the states-general, however, that he summoned. Both
Henry and his minister Sully hated the democracy, not
without reason, indeed, during the fanaticism of the
league. An assembly of notables was therefore in pre-
ference appointed to meet, not in Paris but at Rouen.
Henry, who particularly admired Francis I. amongst his
predecessors, showed that he entertained the peculiar
aristocratic feelings which we have noticed In that
prince * a jealousy of the higher aristocracy, but a
love for the class of the nobly born. In his opening
discourse, when mentioning his " noblesse," the king
added, " from which I do not distinguish the princes of
the realm, the quality of gentleman being the noblest
title we possess." This indication of royal sentiments is
the most important circumstance in the assembly, which
was productive of little effect. They voted no funds, and
left the government to stop the salaries of its officers,
in order to supply the wants of the moment. Here
it is a wonder that the sagacity of Sully did not perceive
the uselessness of an assembly of which the aristocratic
members feared to vote supplies for a people whom they
did not represent. But Sully was blinded by aristo-
cratic pride. The absence of the huguenot chiefs, then
almost in open revolt, prevented any thing like an edict
in their favour.
In the commencement of the following year, Philip II.,
sinking in years, mortified by the ill success of his ma-
nifold schemes, and insulted by the English who had
taken Cadiz, one of the principal towns in his do-
minions, made some indirect advances towards peace.
1597- HENRY INVESTS AMIENS. 367
Henry was not adverse to an accommodation ; when the
enterprise of a Spanish officer, named Telle, the com-
mander of Dourlens, who succeeded in surprising and
capturing the town of Amiens, put an end for the time
to all prospects of amicable adjustment. The king was
dreadfully cast down by the news, and the court was
struck with stupor. " I have been playing the part of
king of France long enough," said Henry to the fair
Gabrielle, for whom the love of the monarch was such
that it had caused his vigilance to slumber, " I must
now act the king of Navarre." He meant that he
must mount his horse, be alert, and incessantly com-
bating. Sully exerted himself to find the supplies ; yet,
notwithstanding the recent assembly of the notables, he
could hit on no expedient, save that of creating and
seUing useless offices. The parliament thought proper
to expostulate against this, and talked of " God having
confided to them the keeping of justice." " You make
a mistake there, sir," cried the king, interrupting the
president ; ' f it is to me that God has confided the
keeping of justice, and I entrust that keeping to you"
This quick and just assertion of prerogative startled de
Harlai. There is no feeling to be found more strongly
marked in the Memoirs of Sully (and the monarch no
doubt participated in these prejudices of his minister)
than the contempt felt by the noble and the soldier for
the lawyer, even though the latter could trace his de-
scent from a race of magistrates. The noblesse of the
robe was disdained by the noblesse of the sword ; and
yet Henry owed his crown as much to the firmness of
the one as to the valour of the other.
The king now turned all his force towards Amiens,
and invested it. The archduke marched to its relief,
but was disinclined to venture a battle. A few skir-
mishes, merely, took place ; and the Spaniards failing
to throw succours into the town, it surrendered. The
duke of Mayenne and the old leaguers showed their
sincerity on this occasion by combating in the ranks
of the king. Their rencontres with the Spaniards, so
368 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1597-
lately their friends and allies, brought on new proposals
for peace. Commissioners on both sides met at Vervins
to arrange preliminaries. Henry took advantage of the
truce to lead in person an expedition against the duke
of Mercoeur, who still held out in the remote province
of Britany. The approach of the king intimidated him,
however : he offered to submit ; and adroitly proposing
to give his daughter and heiress in marriage to Henry's
son by Gabrielle d'Estrees, he obtained favourable
terms. That illegitimate son was Caesar, created duke of
Vendome.
On his return from thus pacifying the internal trou-
bles of his kingdom, Henry found his commissioners
partly agreed with those of Spain, as to the terms of a
treaty. The only obstacle was raised by his allies, the
queen of England and the states of Holland, as Spain
persisted obstinately in not acknowledging the inde-
pendence of the Dutch, and objected equally to a cessa-
tion of hostilities. The king certainly did not show
himself inclined to make much sacrifice or exertion for
these insurgents, to whose remonstrances he replied,
that they were very well able to defend themselves
without aid ; and that after so many troubles and so
long a war, his kingdom had such absolute need of
repose, that he could not sacrifice the hopes of it to any
foreign consideration. The treaty of Vervins was there-
fore concluded in May, 1598. The Spaniards restored
all the towns that they still held in Pi card y, Calais
included, whilst Henry gave up Tranche Comte and the
C'harolois together with Cambray. The duke of Savoy
was included in the accommodation ; the disputed point
of the marquisate of Saluces being left to the arbitra-
tion of the pope.
Previous to this conclusion of peace with foreign
countries, Henry had applied himself to remove all dis-
content at home, by satisfying the just desires of the
huguenots. On his return from Britany he received the
deputies of the protestants at Nantes, and consulted them
as to their wants and the guaranty which they desired.
1598. EDICT OF NANTES. 369
Acting on their advice, tempered by his own prudence,
and guided by the wisdom of de Thou and other coun-
sellors, Henry drew up and issued the famous edict of
Nantes. By this the reformers were to enjoy free-
dom of worship in all the towns where their creed then
prevailed. They were allowed to have meetings of their
representatives, as well as to raise sums for their clergy,
paying at the same time the tithe due to the established
church. In suits -at law their judges were to be half
catholic half protestant ; and several towns of surety
were left to them for a certain time. The parliament
made considerable opposition to the registering of this
edict ; and the king was obliged to use menaces as well
as persuasion to overcome their obstinacy.
Having thus established his throne, and by an admir-
able mixture of firmness and conciliation silenced the
two contending parties, or at least left them no pretext
for troubling the repose of the state, Henry apph'ed
himself to regulate the internal administration of the
kingdom. All indeed was not as he wished. He had
been compelled to parcel out the provinces among the
high aristocracy, of whose fidelity he could be ill assured.
To break faith with them was neither advisable nor
practicable ; and therefore his efforts were employed in
husbanding his resources and ordering his revenues,
that these sinews of war might not be wanting at need.
The baron de Rosny, better known as the minister Sully,
was created sur-intendant of finance. The old jobbers
and administrators of the revenue ridiculed the idea of
thrusting a soldier into such an office ; but Sully soon
convinced the monarch and the nation that probity,
economy, and activity, were qualities more efficient in
a financier than all the arts of fiscal experience. His
first operation was to remit all arrears due on the taille ;
his next was to annul the leases for farming out the
revenue, and to order all pensions or other allowances to
be paid direct from the treasury, whence all payments
were to be made, and not as heretofore from different
funds and provinces. Great clamours of course were
VOL. I. B B
S70 HISTORY OF FRANCE. -1599-
raised against these innovations, so unfavourable to the
grandees and to the provincial authorities. The proud
duke of Epernon insulted Sully, who was not slow to
touch his sword. " If Epernon challenges you/* wrote
Henri Quatre to his minister, " I will be your second."
The debts of the state were found to amount to up-
wards of 300 millions of livres, tantamount to nearly
three times that sum in the present day, and this at the
enormous interest of ten or twelve per cent. The re-
venue to liquidate this and support the charges of the
state did not exceed 25 millions. Yet Sully in five or
six years had cancelled this debt, and had begun to
amass funds in anticipation of a future war. Not only
was this effected, but in a very short time he relieved the
people from the onerous tax of the sous per livre on all
goods sold. Sully was eminently aristocratic ; so much
so, that he vehemently opposed the introduction of those
manufactures which enriched the civic class at the ex-
pense of the landholders. Henry, however, over-ruled his
minister in this, and founded the silk manufacture of
the kingdom as well as that of tapestry. Yet Sully,
though he despised the lower orders, did his utmost to
alleviate their burdens. He diminished the faille, or
tax, from which the nobles were exempt, and preferred
the dixme royal, a kind of capitation tax, which was
more equitably levied. The monarchy, in fact, never
flourished under a more sage or more upright minister ;
and yet this administrative virtue of Sully gave a greater
blow to the liberties of the French people than even the
astute despotism of Richelieu. The economy of Sully
rendered the states-general and even the notables useless ;
and all hopes vanished that the late troubles would ter-
minate to the advantage of national freedom.
Who has not heard of the fair Gabrielle ? Henry
saw her first at the chateau of her father, during one
of his campaigns, and became enamoured. He fre-
quently stole from his camp in disguise, and crossed the
enemy's lines to visit her. An hundred stories are told
of the romantic adventures he underwent whilst wooing.
1599- THE FAIR GABRIELLE. 3?1
He won, and was happy. Never had illegitimate love
a more flattering excuse. Compelled to espouse, when
a boy, the abandoned sister of Charles IX., his wedding
feast had been stained with the blocd of his friend, and
the dissolute Margaret led a life such as might be ex-
pected from such a race and such espousals. Henry
consoled himself in the affections of Gabrielle d'Estrees,
whose society he loved, and to whom he was constant.
She had borne him several children. And now the wish
of Henry was to obtain a divorce from his queen, and
to sanction his connection with Gabrielle by a marriage.
So serious and sincere was he in this that all his cour-
tiers applauded the determination. Sully alone looked
cold. Henry consulted him, and besought his advice ;
and the minister represented to him all the dangers of
a disputed succession, of the pretensions of the young
duke of Vendome, who could not be legitimated, and of
all the obvious objections to such a step. Henry was
grieved : he saw the justice of the counsel, and remained
irresolute. Gabrielle broke forth in invectives against
Sully, and at length demanded his dismissal. Henry
brought his minister by the hand into the apartment of
Gabrielle, and entreated her to be reconciled to him.
She persisted in her pride and in bursts of resentment.
" Know, madam," said Henry, harsh for the first time,
" that a minister like him must be dearer to me than
even such a mistress as you." Gabrielle henceforth gave
herself up to grief. The king was true and kind as
ever. In the spring of the year J 599 she was advanced
in a state of pregnancy. Henry, about to go through
the pious ceremonies of Easter at Fontainebleau, felt it
decorous to separate for a few days from his mistress.
She retired to Paris, weighed down by despondency and
the blackest presentiment. Astrological predictions were
then the mode ; and some imprudent or malevolent
information of this kind tormented her: " We shall never
meet again," were her words on parting from the king,
and they proved true. She was taken with convulsions,
delivered of a dead child, and expired in a few hours.
B B 2 '
372 HISTORY OF FRANCE. 1599-
Henry had mounted on horseback at the first news, and
was half way on the road to Paris, when he was told
" it was too late." The brave Henry could not sup-
port this blow : he well nigh fainted, and was obliged
to be conveyed back to Fontainebleau. There he re-
tired, and shut himself up to indulge his grief. Sully
alone was able to console him, and rouse him, after a
time, to the affairs of the kingdom.*
It were to be wished, for Henry's character, that his
amours had ended here. His intention was to marry ;
and the niece of the grand duke of Tuscany, Mary of
Medicis, had already been mentioned. But the divorce
had not yet been expedited by the pope ; and the in-
flammable temperament of Henry took fire in the mean
time with a new passion. Mademoiselle d'Antraigues
was the object, a being lovely indeed, but wanting alike
the modesty, the sweet temper, and unambitious conduct
of Gabrielle. She long enticed and tormented the mo-
march. Her father, the count d'Antraigues, affected
resentment and vigilance ; and Henry how the old love
to live their youth o'er again ! had recourse to such dis-
guise as he had formerly used to gain admission to Ga-
brielle d'Estrees. Henrietta d'Antraigues had not the
same taste : she is said to have so disliked the monarch
in the humble dress of a gardener that she turned him
from her presence. At length she obtained from Henry
a promise of marriage in case that a son was born to
her within the year, and Mademoiselle d'Antraigues be-
came marquise de Verneuil. Henry showed the contract
to Sully, who, without other comment, tore and cast it
under his feet. The king felt bound to write another ;
but in consequence of a stroke of lightning which fell
on the house where the marquise resided it ultimately
became void. The fright which the lightning occasi-
oned had the effect of destroying the hopes she had
entertained of fulfilling her part of the contract, a sti-
pulation indecent and unworthy of the monarch. Henry
* The memory of Henry IV. 'a mistress is preserved in the song of " Char-
mante Gabrielle," which her royal lover himself composed for her.
iGOO. HENBY ESPOUSES MARY OF MEDICIS. 373
soon after was roused to a fuller sense of his dignity
and of the nation's weal. A divorce was by this time
obtained ; and he espoused Mary of Medicis in the
course of the year 1600. The king describes her in one
of his letters to Sully as " terribly robust and healthy."
She had some reason to be jealous, for the marquise de
Verneuil still retained a share of influence. Sully was
more than once called in to quiet their domestic broils.
The birth of a son, afterwards Louis XIII., soon oc-
curred to allay the fears of a disputed succession, and
also contributed to bind Henry to his queen. The
Spanish ambassador, a grave Castilian, was once ushered
into the king's presence at Fontainebleau rather ab-
ruptly, and found the monarch running on all fours
with the little dauphin on his back. " Are you a father? "
was Henry's first salutation to the diplomatist. " Yes,
sire." " Then I may finish my play ; " and Henry took
another scamper with his son around the apartment.
The chief obstacle to the security and happiness of
the monarch lay in the intrigues of his grandees. The
people gave him little trouble ; the turbulence of the
civic class was over : they were ashamed, as well as
weary, of the long disorders of the league, and in no
way sought to renew them. Satisfied by the mild and
economical management of the revenue by Sully, they
applauded so beneficent a power, and forgot, or regretted
not, that it was absolute. None clamoured for the states-
general ; they made loyalty a part of their religion ; and
abandoned all doctrines of liberty and republicanism to
the hated huguenots, who professed them.
The nobles, who were the contemporaries of Henry,
could not find the same repose : they had lived a life of
turbulence and war ; they had been bred in intrigue,
and in all the excitement of contending parties ; peace
could not content them. Then the life of a camp had
placed them on a kind of equality with their monarch,
who had terminated the war by yielding up the ad-
ministering authority in the provinces to the several
grandees. He had compounded with them, as much as
BBS
374 HISTORY OF FflANCE. 1601.
conquered them ; and the protestant nobles had taken
a position of equal independence with that of the ca-
tholics. The high aristocracy, in fact, that Francis I.
so prudently kept down, had reconstituted itself in the
subsequent reigns. They now made a covert, but not
less serious proposal to Henry, choosing the duke of
Montpensier, a stripling and a prince of the blood, to
be their spokesman on the occasion. This demand was
no less than to re-establish the old feudal system, by al-
lowing the present governors of provinces to hold them
in fief, and transmit them to their descendants. Henry
was not a monarch to tolerate such a demand ; and his
angry reply struck young Montpensier with terror.
The grandees determined to win by union and force
what gentler means could not obtain. They conspired,
leagued with Spain, with the duke of Savoy, and eveto
with England, endeavouring to excite a malcontent party.
Protestants as well as catholics joined in this : the duke
of Bouillon at the head of one, the proud Epernon re-
presenting the other. Such, however, was Henry's
power, and such his character for courage as well as
promptitude, such, too, was the vigilance of Sully, that
this intrigue could never be matured into a conspiracy.
Henry's frank and amiable temper won over many ; and
he never proceeded to punish the guilty until he had
used every gentle means to admonish, to pardon, and
recall them to duty.
The mareschal de Biron was almost the only one of
his nobles who still persisted in treasonable views. The
king, on one occasion, had summoned him, charged him
seriously, but not severely, with the crime, and showed
him that he was well informed of his intrigues. Biron
fell on his knees, confessed his weakness, but vowed that
he would never more forsake the path of loyalty. Henry
pardoned and embraced him. But Biron, vain and fickle,
jealous even of his monarch's fame, was weak enough to
listen once more to the insinuations of Spain. The
duke of Savoy, on a visit to Henry, manifested every
sign of admiration for die king, while he occupied himself
1601. TREASON OF BIRON. S75
in corrupting the French courtiers, and in fomenting a
party. He was ably seconded by the Spanish count de
Fuentes. Biron was fascinated by the mighty promises
of these intriguers : he was to have Burgundy as an in-
dependent s'tate. The constable Bourbon himself never
received more magnificent promises. Nothing more
displays the baseness and declension of Spain, than her
recourse to such weak and dishonourable machinations.
Henry soon after, wearied with the bad faith and subtle
subterfuges of the duke of Savoy, made war on that
prince. Biron was entrusted with the command, and
in conducting it his treachery became manifest. One
day, when Sully rode with him to view the siege of a
fortress belonging to the duke, the former could perceive
that the fire from the ramparts slackened, and was di-
rected from them. Sully took the same ride alone on
the following day, and was received with a heavy and
well-directed cannonade. It afterwards appeared that
the marshal had intended to entice the king into an am-
buscade, where the fire of the enemy would have cer-
tainly proved fatal. The duke of Savoy, worsted by
the arms of Henry, made his submission, and obtained
peace. Biron continued his intrigues with Spain, in
concert with the duke of Bouillon, with the count
d'Auvergne, bastard of Charles IX., and probably with
Epernon, and the whole body of the malcontent no-
blesse.
The king was perfectly aware of these intrigues.
Biron was betrayed by his chief counsellor and insti-
gator, a person named Lafin. Henry saw Biron once
talking with Lafin, and warned him, saying, " I know
that man ; he will lead you into evil." But the marshal
was deaf to advice. Henry did not at first place much
credit in the revelations of Lafin, who accused Sully him-
self among others of the court. But the informer pro-
duced written documents, proofs of Biron's connection
with Spain. Biron was summoned to court. It was
the king's intention to reproach his ancient comrade, to
endeavour to awaken his loyalty, shame him into a con-
B B 4
376 HISTORY OF FHAXCK. l60I.
fession of his treason, and again pardon him. Sully
received instructions to pursue the same conduct, and to
try every means short of letting the marshal know that
Latin had confessed ah 1 . Biron and the count d'Au-
vergne came to court boldly. Henry drew the traitor
apart, led him into familiar conversation, showed him-
self open, frank, forgiving, yet suspicious. Biron be-
trayed no misgivings, no repentance, no wish to remove
his sovereign's distrust. At last, as they arrived before
an equestrian statue of Henry lately erected, which was
ornamented with trophies, the king asked, " What would
the king of Spain say were he to see me thus ? " Biron,
who felt that this was meant to try him, insolently re-
plied, " Sire, he scarcely fears you." Then correcting
himself, he stammered out, " I mean in that statue, not
in this, your person." Henry smiled sorrowfully, and
gave up his merciful and friendly purpose. Sully, on
his side, exerted himself to the same effect, but in vain.
Biron was hardened. It was only then that Henry gave
orders for his arrest, and that of the count d'Auvergne.
As they left the king's chamber, their swords were de-
manded. They were conveyed by water to the arsenal.
Biron was tried before the parliament, condemned,, and
executed. He evinced the greatest rage on the scaffold :
it amounted to frenzy, and was excited by his horror of
so disgraceful a death. The executioner was obliged to
hide his sword, and strike off the head of the culprit
unawares.
The last years of Henry's reign are scarcely marked
by any important incidents. The few that did take place,
such as the conspiracy of the family d'Antraigues, and
the weaknesses into which Henry's amorous disposition
led him, are exaggerated in importance, and narrated by
historians with a detail they little merit. The punish-
ment of Biron, which Henry meant as a warning to his
discontented nobles, succeeded in keeping them in awe.
If they intrigued, it was in fear, and with a caution that
marred all progress or purpose. The count d'Auvergne
alone, though pardoned for being implicated with Biron,
1609- INTRIGUES OF THE COURT. 377
renewed his schemes in conjunction with the marquise
de Verneuil : this mistress treated the king with the
capriciousness and severity which a wronged beauty
might use towards a gallant more advanced in years :
the monarch construed her caprice into infidelity; and a
loving quarrel grew to be a serious misunderstanding.
Henry withdrew the written document of the promise
of marriage. The father and daughter, joined by the
count d'Auvergne, plotted against the king, it was said
against his life ; and, as usual, they found support in a
Spanish emissary. They were all three arrested, tried,
and condemned to death ; but Henry pardoned his mis-
tress, as well as her relatives, and commuted their punish-
ment into exile. The restless and false d'Auvergne
was confined permanently in the Bastille.
Squabbles with his queen, Mary of Medicis, on ac-
count of her Italian favourites, Concini and his wife;
distrust of Sully, excited by the envious courtiers ; these,
with national improvements, negotiations, festivals, and
hunting parties, bring the reign of Henry IV. nearly to
its close. In l6'09, its happy and glorious monotony
was varied by the enthusiastic admiration which the
aged monarch conceived for mademoiselle de Mont-
morency, the young and lovely daughter of the constable,
who had just appeared at court, and eclipsed all its
beauties. There is some difference of opinion as to the
nature of Henry's admiration : the memoir writers of
the age saw scandal in every connection ; and certainly
Henry's past life and his known failings incline to the
worst side. Bassompierre, then a young man, relates that
he himself became a suitor for the beauty's hand, and that
he was induced by the entreaties or commands of the
enamoured king to desist. Bassompierre was a babbler,
however, whose vanity breaks out in the arrogance of the
mere pretension. The young prince of Conde was also
smitten, but shrunk back from so formidable a rival as the
monarch. What belies the account of Bassompierre
is, that Henry came forward, and assured Conde, " that
he might woo in all confidence, and that he had nothing
378 HISTORY OP FRANCE.
to fear on that score from his king." If Henry had
licentious views, Bassompierre, and not Conde, would
have been the convenient husband of mademoiselle de
Montmorency.
Conde was the successful suitor, and the marriage
was celebrated at court with unusual splendour. Henry,
having given his word to the prince, indulged his pre-
dilection for the lovely bride by showering presents and
favours upon her and her husband. The court, full of
the malevolent, amongst whom the followers of the
jealous queen were not the least forward, construed all
these symptoms to be the homage of a guilty passion :
they poured this in the prince's ear ; and Conde, alarmed
for his wife's honour, carried her off from the court by
stealth, first to Picardy, whence, on receiving a summons
from the king to return, he made a second flight, and
gained the Low Countries. The king showed himself
strangely affected by this incident : the discovery of
Biron's conspiracy did not cause him more trouble.
Sully was called up in the night ; and the whole court was
roused by the agitation of the monarch, who was pacing
and stamping up and down the chamber of the queen,
while the courtiers stood " pasted to the walls," says
Sully, lest they should interrupt the monarch's passion.
The flight of the first prince of the blood, and his
taking refuge with the Spaniards, was certainly a grave
question, love and jealousy being set aside. The king
demanded Sully's advice, who hesitated, but being forced,
advised him to "do nothing." " Nothing!" said Henry,
" call you that advice ? " Sully replied, that the escape
of the prince was a matter of little importance, unless
the king chose to make it important by raising a clamour,
and showing that he took an interest concerning it.
Henry, however, was not in a humour to treat the
matter thus slightly and thus wisely : he instructed his
ambassador to demand of the archduke to deliver up
the prince and princess of Conde ; and, as Sully fore-
saw, the court of Brussels, in refusing, filled Europe
with calumnies against Henry; asserting that he wanted
l609- PREPARATIONS FOR WAR. 3?9
to take by force the wife of the first prince of the realm
and of the blood. When Henry, immediately after-
wards, menaced war, the outcry was that Europe was
about to be deluged in blood for another Helen.
It was, indeed, unfortunate, that Henry, who had
remained so many years at peace, no doubt preparing
and amassing the materials and resources of war, and
cautiously awaiting fit pretext and proper season, should
now draw the sword for a cause at once criminal and
absurd. To reduce the power of the house of Austria
was part of an universal scheme, long meditated by
Henry, and concerted by him with the politic Elizabeth.
This scheme, which was to parcel Europe out into
divers states, equal in extent and balanced in strength,
to be afterwards held together by a general congress, or
Amphictyonic council, existed more in the fancy than
in the intentions of the French monarch. It had slum-
bered, but now started into life. He resolved to realise
his dream: but this, which had been a vision of heroism
and philanthropy, was now degraded and sullied by the
immediate motive. Henry, who was passionately fond of
glory, saw the stain that was to rob his achievements of
their brightness and purity. The accusation of the Spa-
niards troubled him : perhaps there was even truth in the
reproach, that the love of a sexagenarian king for a
princess, and a married princess of twenty, was the
only cause and pretext for convulsing Europe and shed-
ding its best blood. This weighed upon Henry, and
fretted him : his gaiety disappeared. Remorse and
mortification came to cloud the heaven of his declining
days. A dark presentiment, similar to that which had
forewarned his loved Gabrielle of her fate, now gathered
around Henry : he could not shake it off.
He intended leaving the queen as regent during his
absence at the head of his army ; and her previous co-
ronation, a ceremony that had not yet taken place, was
considered requisite. This detained him in the capital ;
and Mary of Medicis, fond of state and ceremony, in-
sisted on it, and delighted in it. Henry was annoyed
380 HISTORY OF FRANCE. . l6lO.
and fretted : he frequently said he should never leave
Paris alive, and he longed to contradict his presentiment.
The coronation of the queen at length took place. On
the following day, the 14th of May, ifilO, he manifested
strong feelings of despondency. Despatches brought
him word that his enemies were making no preparations
for defence, and that they gave out that the delivery of
the prince and princess of Conde would at once allay
his choler and arrest his schemes. This increased his
ill humour : he called for Sully ; but learning that his
minister was ill at the arsenal, the king's coach was
ordered to convey him thither. Seven of the suite oc-
cupied with the king his ample carriage. The duke of
Epernon was in one corner, and Henry next to him.
The vehicle proceeded, but was stopped in the narrow
rue de la Ferronnerie by two loaded carts. This was
the moment chosen by an assassin, Ravaillac, who,
mounting on the step, and leaning full into the carriage,
struck the king with a poniard, first in the stomach,
and then in the breast. One of these stabs pierced the
heart of the noble Henry.
To paint the rage and despair of the people would be
impossible. The once detested Henry had won every
heart ; and the general grief for him partook of the
character of madness. Tears were the least tokens of
sorrow ; many died on learning the_catastrophe, amongst
others the brave De Vic, the comrade of Henry. The
lifeless body was borne to the Louvre, whilst Ravaillac,
who made no attempt to escape, was taken, brandishing
his dagger, and only preserved by the guards from being
instantly torn in pieces. He had been a monk, strongly
imbued with the king-killing principles that the Jesuits
had broached. His crime had been long meditated by
him ; but no proof exists that he had been instigated
either by Spain or by any knot of malcontent courtiers.
Suspicion, indeed, has scattered its stain on all with an
unsparing hand. Epernon, the queen, Concini, and
many others, were accused as being privy to the deed ;
and die record of Ravaillac's trial having been destroyed,
lOlO. CHARACTER OF HENRY IV. 381
whilst these personages possessed the chief influence,
gives some colour to the charge. But the tortured cul-
prit might idly or malevolently cast imputation on the
powerful, as indeed he menaced to do. For when some
one pressed him to name his accomplices, Ravaillac an-
swered, " Suppose I name you." The seed of his crime
was the diabolical maxim to which the fanaticism of the
league had given birth, and which it had rendered po-
pular. It had germinated and grown in the dark soli-
tude of a rancorous and fanatic spirit.
The character of Henry, if not altogether the most
perfect, is certainly the most interesting that history
presents. To enumerate his qualities were to repeat all
that we admire in the perfection of the modern gentle-
man. Such was he, another Francis I., with more good
fortune, more military talent, more humanity, more re-
finement, and with a career far more calculated than
that of Francis to illustrate the heroic virtues. Then
the interior and domestic life of Henry, made known to
us in the simple and sublime memorials of Sully, makes
us intimate with the man as with the monarch, and
endears him to us as the warm friend, the devoted lover,
the generous master, the frank and witty companion.
His contemporaries, who gave him the epithet of the
Great, must have admired, even more than they loved
him. In our days, when the warlike feats of the past
have been thrown so much into the shade, we are in-
clined to reverse those feelings, and to love more than
to admire him.
Henry was no tyrant ; but his reign had certainly a
despotic tendency. He summoned no assembly of the
states where the tiers etat had a voice ; but his position,
much more than his nature, influenced him in that line
of policy. He had suffered much from popular violence:
he had had experience of the fury of the sixteen, and
the fanaticism of the mob hired by the money of Spain.
It is not to be expected, that from remote or theoretic
views of the public good he should have awakened and
given life to this hydra. Besides, even in the plenitude
382 HISTORY OF FRANCE. l6lO.
of his power, he was harassed by the insubordination
of the protestant towns and the assemblies of the re-
formers. The wish of all good men was for peace and
order. The license of the past had thrown into dis-
grace the very name of liberty, whose lasting victories
can be won only under the banners of moderation.
To judge Henry or his age then with our ideas would
be absurd ; as to condemn him because the circum-
stances of his reign were unfavourable to the public
liberties is unjust.
Aristocratic as Henry was in feeling, he was still less
so than his minister Sully, many of whose prejudices in
this respect he over-ruled. But the exclusive maxim of
gentility nevertheless prevailed. The civic class trodden
down in this reign were for nearly two centuries unable
to rise. The cause of this depression may be traced to
their want of union and firmness, and notwithstanding
the majority of the capital adhered to Catholicism : we
must also take into account the blindness with which
both parties, choosing princes for their leaders, allowed all
public and general principle to be forgotten and lost in
the private interests and views of those chiefs.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME..
LONDON :
Printed by A. & R. Spottiswoode,
N ew-Street- Square.
CABINET OF HISTORY.
CONDUCTED BY THE
REV. DIONYSIUS LARDNER, LL.I>. F.R.S. L. & E.
M.R.I.A. F.L.S. F.Z.S. HoaF.C.P.S. M.AstS. &c. &c.
ASSISTED BY
EMINENT LITERARY MEN.
THE
HISTORY OF FRANCE.
BY
EYRE EVANS CROWE.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
rnt\TEi> FOR
LONGMAN, REES, OKME, BROWN, AND GREEN,
PATERNOSTER-ROW ;
AND JOHN TAYLOR,
UPPER OOWER STREET.
1830.
Lovnov :
Printed by A. & R. Spottiswoodc,
New-Street- Square.
^EUNIVERy/A
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