HISTORY OF FRANCE

BY M. GUIZOT

VOLUME IV. 

CONTENTS:

XXVIII. FRANCIS I. AND CHARLES V. 9

XXIX. FRANCIS I. AND THE RENAISSANCE. 137

XXX. FRANCIS I. AND THE REFORMATION. 179

XXXI. HENRY II. (1547-1559. ) 230

XXXII. FRANCIS II. JULY 10, 1559--DECEMBER 5, 1560 269

XXXIII. CHARLES IX. AND THE RELIGIOUS WARS. (1560-1574. ) 296

XXXIV. HENRY III. AND THE RELIGIOUS WARS. (1574-1589. ) 388

LIST OF STEEL ENGRAVINGS:

THE CASTLE OF CHAIIIBORD. FRONTISPIECE. 

FRANCIS I 137

GALLERY HENRY II 230

DIANA DE POITIERS 243

MARY STUART 270

HENRY OF LORRAINE (DUKE OF GUISE) 332

LIST OF WOOD-CUT ILLUSTRATIONS:

Cardinal Ximenes 14

All Night a-horseback 19

Bayard Knighting Francis I 19

Leo X. 21

Anthony Duprat 24

Charles V. 39

Francis I. Surprises Henry VIII 44

The Field of the Cloth of Gold 45

The Constable de Bourbon 53

The Death of Bayard 76

Capture of Francis I. 91

Louise of Savoy and Marguerite de Valois 102

Francis I. 115

The Duke of Orleans and Charles V 128

Claude de Lorraine, Duke of Guise 130

St. Thomas Aquinas and Abelard 140

Clement Marot 162

Francis I. Waits for Robert Estienne 168

Rabelais 171

The First Protestants 178

William Farel 181

The Castle of Pau 183

Burning of Reformers at Meaux 188

Erasmus 194

Berquin released by John de la Barre 198

Heretic Iconoclasts 201

Massacre of the Vaudians 218

Calvin 222

Henry II. 235

Anne de Montmorency 235

Guise at Metz 244

Francis II. And Mary Stuart love making. 251

Catherine de' Medici (in her young days) 255

Joust between Henri II. And Count de Montgomery 268

Archers of the Body-guard 268

Francis II. 269

Death of La Renaudie 283

After-dinner Diversions 284

Mary Stuart 284

Louis de Bourbon, Prince of Condo 285

Coligny at the Death-bed of Francis II. 295

Francis de Lorraine, Duke of Aumale and of Guise 302

Massacre of Protestants 305

The Duke of Guise waylaid 315

Conde at the Ford 328

Parley before the Battle of Moncontour 337

Admiral Gaspard de Coligny 346

Charles IX. And Catherine de' Medici 354

Henry de Guise and the Corpse of Coligny 369

The Queen of Navarre and the Huguenot 372

Chancellor Michael de l'Hospital 376

The St. Bartholomew 383

Henry III. 388

Indolence of Henry III. 390

Henry le Balafre 400

The Castle of Blois 428

Henry III. And the Murder of Guise 437

Henry of Navarre and the Scotch Guard 448

A POPULAR HISTORY OF FRANCE FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. ----FRANCIS I. AND CHARLES V. 

The closer the study and the wider the contemplation a Frenchman bestowsupon his country's history, the deeper will be his feelings of patrioticpride, dashed with a tinge of sadness. France, in respect of hernational unity, is the most ancient amongst the states of ChristianEurope. During her long existence she has passed through very differentregimens, the chaos of barbarism, the feudal system, absolute monarchy, constitutional monarchy, and republicanism. Under all these regimens shehas had no lack of greatness and glory, material power and intellectuallustre, moral virtues and the charms of social life. Her barbarism hadits Charlemagne; her feudal system St. Louis, Joan of Arc, and Bayard;her absolute monarchy Henry IV. And Louis XIV. Of our own times we saynothing. France has shone in war and in peace, through the sword andthrough the intellect: she has by turns conquered and beguiled, enlightened and troubled Europe; she has always offered to the foreignera spectacle or an abode full of the curious and the attractive, of noblepleasures and of mundane amusements. And still, after so many centuriesof such a grand and brilliant career, France has not yet attained the endto which she ever aspired, to which all civilized communities aspire, andthat is, order in the midst of movement, security and liberty united andlasting. She has had shortcomings which have prevented her from reapingthe full advantage of her merits; she has committed faults which haveinvolved her in reverses. Two things, essential to political prosperityamongst communities of men, have hitherto been to seek in her;predominance of public spirit over the spirit of caste or of profession, and moderation and fixity in respect of national ambition both at homeand abroad. France has been a victim to the personal passions of herchiefs and to her own reckless changeability. 

We are entering upon the history of a period and a reign during whichthis intermixture of merits and demerits, of virtues and vices, ofprogress and backsliding, was powerfully and attractively exhibitedamongst the French. Francis I. , his government and his times commencethe era of modern France, and bring clearly to view the causes of hergreatnesses and her weaknesses. 

Francis I. Had received from God all the gifts that can adorn a man: hewas handsome and tall and strong; his armor, preserved in the Louvre, isthat of a man six feet high; his eyes were brilliant and soft, his smilewas gracious, his manners were winning. From his very childhood heshowed that he had wits, enterprise, skill, and boldness. He was butseven years old when, "on the day of the conversion of St. Paul, January25, 1501, about two P. M. , my king, my lord, my Caesar, and my son, wasrun away with, near Amboise, by a hackney which had been given him byMarshal de Gye; and so great was the danger that those who were presentthought it was all over; howbeit God, the protector of widowed women andthe defender of orphans, foreseeing things to come, was pleased not toforsake me, knowing that, if accident had so suddenly deprived me of mylove, I should have been too utter a wretch. " Such is the account givenof this little incident by his mother, Louise of Savoy, who was at thattime habitually kept, by Anne of Brittany's jealousy, at a distance fromParis and the court. [_Journal de Louise de Savoie_ in the Petitotcollection of _Memoires sur l'Histoire de France, _ Series I. T. Xvi. P. 390. ] Some years later the young prince, who had become an ardenthuntsman, took the fancy into his head one day to let loose in thecourtyard of the castle of Amboise a wild boar which he had just caughtin the forest. The animal came to a door, burst it open with a blow ofhis snout, and walked up into the apartments. Those who were there tookto their heels; but Francis went after the boar, came up with him, killedhim with a swordthrust, and sent him rolling down the staircase into thecourtyard. When, in 1513, Louis XII. Sent for the young Duke ofAngouleme and bade him go and defend Picardy against the English, Francishad scarcely done anything beyond so employing his natural gifts as todelight the little court of which he was the centre; an estimable trait, but very insufficient for the government of a people. 

When, two years afterwards, on the 1st of January, 1515, he ascended thethrone before he had attained his one and twentieth year, it was abrilliant and brave but spoiled child that became king. He had beenunder the governance of Artus Gouffier, Sire de Boisy, a nobleman ofPoitou, who had exerted himself to make his royal pupil a loyal knight, well trained in the moral code and all the graces of knighthood, butwithout drawing his attention to more serious studies or preparing himfor the task of government. The young Francis d'Angouleme lived and wasmoulded under the influence of two women, his mother, Louise of Savoy, and his eldest sister, Marguerite, who both of them loved and adored himwith passionate idolatry. It has just been shown in what terms Louise ofSavoy, in her daily collection of private memoranda, used to speak toherself of her son, "My king, my lord, my Caesar, and my son!" She wasproud, ambitious, audacious, or pliant at need, able and steadfast inmind, violent and dissolute in her habits, greedy of pleasure and ofmoney as well as of power, so that she gave her son neither moralprinciples nor a moral example: for him the supreme kingship, for herselfthe rank, influence, and wealth of a queen-mother, and, for both, greatness that might subserve the gratification of their passions--thiswas all her dream and all her aim as a mother. Of quite another sortwere the character and sentiments of Marguerite de Valois. She was bornon the 11th of April, 1492, and was, therefore, only two years older thanher brother Francis; but her more delicate nature was sooner and morerichly cultivated and developed. She was brought up with strictness bya most excellent and most venerable dame, in whom all the virtues, atrivalry one with another, existed together. [Madame de Chatillon, whosedeceased husband had been governor to King Charles VIII. ] As she wasdiscovered to have rare intellectual gifts and a very keen relish forlearning, she was provided with every kind of preceptors, who made herproficient in profane letters, as they were then called. Margueritelearned Latin, Greek, philosophy, and especially theology. "At fifteenyears of age, " says a contemporary, "the spirit of God began to manifestitself in her eyes, in her face, in her walk, in her speech, and. Generally in all her actions. " "She had a heart, " says Brantome, "mighty devoted to God, and she loved mightily to compose spiritualsongs. . . . She also devoted herself to letters in her young days, and continued them as long as she lived, loving and conversing with, inthe time of her greatness, the most learned folks of her brother'skingdom, who honored her so that they called her their Maecenas. "Learning, however, was far from absorbing the whole of this young soul. "She, " says a contemporary, "had an agreeable voice of touching tone, which roused the tender inclinations that there are in the heart. "Tenderness, a passionate tenderness, very early assumed the chief placein Marguerite's soul, and the first object of it was her brother Francis. When mother, son, and sister were spoken of, they were called a Trinity, and to this Marguerite herself bore witness when she said, with charmingmodesty, --

 "Such boon is mine, to feel the amity That God hath putten in our trinity, Wherein to make a third, I, all unfitted To be that number's shadow, am admitted. "

Marguerite it was for whom this close communion of three persons had themost dolorous consequences: we shall fall in with her more than once inthe course of this history; but, whether or no, she was assuredly thebest of this princely trio, and Francis I. Was the most spoiled by it. There is nothing more demoralizing than to be an idol. 

The first acts of his government were sensible and of good omen. Heconfirmed or renewed the treaties or truces which Louis XII. , at theclose of his reign, had concluded with the Venetians, the Swiss, thepope, the King of England, the Archduke Charles, and the EmperorMaximilian, in order to restore peace to his kingdom. At home Francis I. Maintained at his council the principal and most tried servants of hispredecessor, amongst others the finance-minister, Florimond Robertet; andhe raised to four the number of the marshals of France, in order toconfer that dignity on Bayard's valiant friend, James of Chabannes, Lordof La Palice, who even under Louis XII. Had been entitled by theSpaniards "the great marshal of France. " At the same time he exalted tothe highest offices in the state two new men, Charles, Duke of Bourbon, who was still a mere youth, but already a warrior of renown, and AnthonyDuprat, the able premier president of the Parliament of Paris; the formerhe made constable, and the latter chancellor of France. His mother, Louise of Savoy, was not unconcerned, it is said, in both promotions;she was supposed to feel for the young constable something more thanfriendship, and she regarded the veteran magistrate, not without reason, as the man most calculated to unreservedly subserve the interests of thekingly power and her own. 

These measures, together with the language and the behavior of FrancisI. , and the care he took to conciliate all who approached him, made afavorable impression on France and on Europe. In Italy, especially, princes as well as people, and Pope Leo X. Before all, flatteredthemselves, or were pleased to appear as if they flattered themselves, that war would not come near them again, and that the young king had hisheart set only on making Burgundy secure against sudden and outrageousattacks from the Swiss. The aged King of Spain, Ferdinand the Catholic, adopting the views of his able minister, Cardinal Ximenes, alone showeddistrust and anxiety. "Go not to sleep, " said he to his former allies;"a single instant is enough to bring the French in the wake of theirmaster whithersoever he pleases to lead them; is it merely to defendBurgundy that the King of France is adding fifteen hundred lances to hismen-at-arms, and that a huge train of artillery is defiling intoLyonness, and little by little approaching the mountains?"

[Illustration: Cardinal Ximenes----14]

Ferdinand urged the pope, the Emperor Maximilian, the Swiss, andMaximilian Sforza, Duke of Milan, to form a league for the defence ofItaly; but Leo X. Persisted in his desire of remaining or appearingneutral, as the common father of the faithful. Meanwhile the Frenchambassador at Rome, William Bude, "a man, " says Guicciardini, "ofprobably unique erudition amongst the men of our day, " and, besides, aman of keen and sagacious intellect, was unfolding the secret working ofItalian diplomacy, and sending to Paris demands for his recall, saying, "Withdraw me from this court full of falsehoods; this is a residence toomuch out of my element. " The answer was, that he should have patience, and still negotiate; for France, meeting ruse by ruse, was willing to beconsidered hoodwinked, whilst the eyes of the pope, diverted by a hollownegotiation, were prevented from seeing the peril which was gatheringround the Italian league and its declared or secret champions. [Gaillard, _Histoire de Francois 1er, _ t. I. P. 208. ]

Neither the king nor the pope had for long to take the trouble ofpractising mutual deception. It was announced at Rome that Francis I. , having arrived at Lyons in July, 1515, had just committed to his mother, Louise, the regency of the kingdom, and was pushing forward towards theAlps an army of sixty thousand men and a powerful artillery. He had wonover to his service Octavian Fregoso, Doge of Genoa; and Barthelemyd'Alviano, the veteran general of his allies the Venetians, was encampedwith his troops within hail of Verona, ready to support the French in thestruggle he foresaw. Francis I. , on his side, was informed that twentythousand Swiss, commanded by the Roman, Prosper Colonna, were guardingthe passes of the Alps in order to shut him out from Milaness. At thesame time he received the news that the Cardinal of Sion, his mostzealous enemy in connection with the Roman Church, was devotedlyemploying, with the secret support of the Emperor Maximilian, hisinfluence and his preaching for the purpose of raising in Switzerlanda second army of from twenty to five and twenty thousand men, to belaunched against him, if necessary, in Italy. A Spanish and Roman army, under the orders of Don Raymond of Cardone, rested motionless at somedistance from the Po, waiting for events and for orders prescribing thepart they were to take. It was clear that Francis I. , though he had beenbut six months king, was resolved and impatient to resume in Italy, andfirst of all in Milaness, the war of invasion and conquest which had beenengaged in by Charles VIII. And Louis XII. ; and the league of all thestates of Italy save Venice and Genoa, with the pope for theirhalf-hearted patron, and the Swiss for their fighting men, werecollecting their forces to repel the invader. 

It was the month of August; the snow was diminishing and melting awayamong the Alps; and the king, with the main body of the army, joined atEmbrun the Constable de Bourbon, who commanded the advance-guard. Butthe two passes of Mount Cenis and Mount Ginevra were strongly guarded bythe Swiss, and others were sought for a little more to the south. Ashepherd, a chamois-hunter, pointed out one whereby, he said, themountains might be crossed, and a descent made upon the plains of themarquisate of Saluzzo. The young constable went in person to examine thespots pointed out by the shepherd; and, the statement having beenverified, it did not seem impossible to get the whole army over, even theheavy artillery; and they essayed this unknown road. At several points, abysses had to be filled up, temporary bridges built, and enormous rockspierced; the men-at-arms marched on foot, with great difficulty draggingtheir horses; with still greater difficulty the infantry hauled thecannon over holes incompletely stopped and fragments of yawning rock. Captains and soldiers set to work together; no labor seems too hard toeager hope; and in five days the mountain was overcome, and the armycaught sight of the plain where the enemy might be encountered. A smallbody of four hundred men-at-arms, led by Marshal de Chabannes, were thefirst to descend into it; and among them was Bayard. "Marshal, " said heto Chabannes, "we are told that over the Po yonder is Sir Prosper Colonna, with two thousand horse, in a town called Villafranca, apprehendingnought and thinking of nought but gaudies. We must wake up his wits alittle, and this moment get into the saddle with all our troops, that hebe not warned by any. " "Sir Bayard, " said the marshal, "it is right wellsaid; but how shall we cross the River Po, which is so impetuous andbroad?" "Sir, " said Bayard, "here is my Lord de Morette's brother, whoknows the ford; he shall cross first, and I after him. " So they mountedtheir horses, crossed the Po, and "were soon there, where Sir ProsperColonna was at table and was dining, as likewise were all his folk. "Bayard, who marched first, found the archers on guard in front of theItalian leader's quarters. "Yield you and utter no sound, " cried he, "else you are dead men. " Some set about defending themselves; the restran to warn Colonna, saying, "Up, sir; for, here are the French in agreat troop already at this door. " "Lads, " said Colonna to them, "keepthis door a little till we get some armor on to defend ourselves. " Butwhilst the fight was going on at the door Bayard had the windows scaled, and, entering first, cried out, "Where are you, Sir Prosper? Yield you;else you are a dead man. " "Sir Frenchman, who is your captain?" askedColonna. "I am, sir. " "Your name, captain?" "Sir, I am one Bayard ofFrance, and here are the Lord of La Palice, and the Lords d'Aubigny andd'Himbercourt, the flower of the captains of France. " Colonnasurrendered, cursing Fortune, "the mother of all sorrow and affliction, who had taken away his wits, and because he had not been warned of theircoming, for he would at least have made his capture a dear one;" and headded, "It seems a thing divinely done; four noble knights at once, withtheir comrades at their backs, to take one Roman noble!"

Francis I. And the main body of his army had also arrived at the easternfoot of the Alps, and were advancing into the plains of the country ofSaluzzo and Piedmont. The Swiss, dumbfounded at so unexpected anapparition, fell back to Novara, the scene of that victory which twoyears previously had made them so proud. A rumor spread that negotiationwas possible, and that the question of Milaness might be settled withoutfighting. The majority of the French captains repudiated the idea, butthe king entertained it. His first impulses were sympathetic andgenerous. "I would not purchase, " said he to Marshal de Lautrec, "withthe blood of my subjects, or even with that of my enemies, what I can payfor with money. " Parleys were commenced; and an agreement was hit uponwith conditions on which the Swiss would withdraw from Italy and resumealliance with the French. A sum of seven hundred thousand crowns, it wassaid, was the chief condition; and the king and the captains of his armygave all they had, even to their plate, for the first instalment whichLautrec was ordered to convey to Bufalora, where the Swiss were toreceive it. But it was suddenly announced that the second army of twentythousand Swiss, which the Cardinal of Sion had succeeded in raising, hadentered Italy by the valley of the Ticino. They formed a junction withtheir countrymen; the cardinal recommenced his zealous preaching againstthe French; the newcomers rejected the stipulated arrangements; and, confident in their united strength, all the Swiss made common accord. Lautrec, warned in time, took with all speed his way back to the Frencharmy, carrying away with him the money he had been charged to pay over;the Venetian general, D'Alviano, went to the French camp to concert withthe king measures for the movements of his troops; and on both sidesnothing was thought of but the delivery of a battle. 

On the 13th of September, 1515, about midday, the Constable de Bourbongave notice to the king, encamped at Melegnano (a town about threeleagues from Milan), that the Swiss, sallying in large masses from Milan, at the noisy summons of the bull of Uri and the cow of Unterwalden, wereadvancing to attack. "The king, who was purposing to sit down to supper, left it on the spot, and went off straight towards the enemy, who werealready engaged in skirmishing, which lasted a long while before theywere at the great game. The king had great numbers of lanzknechts, thewhich would fain have done a bold deed in crossing a ditch to go afterthe Swiss; but these latter let seven or eight ranks cross, and thenthrust you them back in such sort that all that had crossed got hurledinto the ditch. The said lanzknechts were mighty frightened; and but forthe aid of a troop of men-at-arms, amongst the which was the good knightBayard, who bore down right through the Swiss, there had been a saddisaster there, for it was now night, and night knows no shame. A bandof Swiss came passing in front of the king, who charged them gallantly. There was heavy fighting there and much danger to the king's person, forhis great buffe [the top of the visor of his helmet] was pierced, so asto let in daylight, by the thrust of a pike. It was now so late thatthey could not see one another; and the Swiss were, for this evening, forced to retire on the one side, and the French on the other. Theylodged as they could; but well I trow that none did rest at ease. TheKing of France put as good a face on matters as the least of all hissoldiers did, for he remained all night a-horseback like the rest(according to other accounts he had a little sleep, lying on agun-carriage). 

[Illustration: All Night a-horseback----19]

On the morrow at daybreak the Swiss were for beginning again, and theycame straight towards the French artillery, from which they had a goodpeppering. Howbeit, never did men fight better, and the affair lastedthree or four good hours. At last they were broken and beaten, and therewere left on the field ten or twelve thousand of them. The remainder, inpretty good order along a high road, withdrew to Milan, whither they werepursued sword-in-hand. " [_Histoire du bon Chevalier sans Peur et sansReproehe, _ t. Ii. Pp. 99-102. ]

The very day after the battle Francis I. Wrote to his mother the regent along account, alternately ingenuous and eloquent, in which the detailsare set forth with all the complacency of a brave young man who isspeaking of the first great affair in which he has been engaged and inwhich he did himself honor. The victory of Melegnano was the mostbrilliant day in the annals of this reign. Old Marshal Trivulzio, whohad taken part in seventeen battles, said that this was a strife ofgiants, beside which all the rest were but child's play. On the verybattle-field, "before making and creating knights of those who had donehim good service, Francis I. Was pleased to have himself made knight bythe hand of Bayard. 'Sir, ' said Bayard, 'the king of so noble a realm, he who has been crowned, consecrated and anointed with oil sent down fromheaven, he who is the eldest son of the church, is knight over all otherknights. ' 'Bayard, my friend, ' said the king, 'make haste; we must haveno laws or canons quoted here; do my bidding. ' 'Assuredly, sir, ' saidBayard, 'I will do it, since it is your pleasure;' and, taking his sword, 'Avail it as much, ' said he, 'as if I were Roland or Oliver, Godfrey orhis brother Baldwin; please God, sir, that in war you may never takeflight!' and, holding up his sword in the air, he cried, 'Assuredly, mygood sword, thou shalt be well guarded as a relic and honored above allothers for having this day conferred upon so handsome and puissant a kingthe order of chivalry; and never will I wear thee more if it be notagainst Turks, Moors, and Saracens!' Whereupon he gave two bounds andthrust his sword into the sheath. " [_Les testes et la Vie du ChevalierBayard, by Champier, _ in the _Archives curieuses de l'Histoire deFrance, _ Series I. T. Ii. P. 160. ]

[Illustration: Bayard Knighting Francis I----19]

The effect of the victory of Melegnano was great, in Italy primarily, butalso throughout Europe. It was, at the commencement of a new reign andunder the impulse communicated by a young king, an event which seemed tobe decisive and likely to remain so for a long while. Of all thesovereigns engaged in the Italian league against Francis I. , he who wasmost anxious to appear temperate and almost neutral, namely, Leo X. , wasprecisely he who was most surprised and most troubled by it. When heknew that a battle was on the eve of being fought between the French andthe Swiss, he could not conceal his anxiety and his desire that the Swissmight be victorious. The Venetian ambassador at Rome, Marino Giorgi, whose feelings were quite the other way, took, in his diplomaticcapacity, a malicious pleasure in disquieting him. "Holy father, " saidhe, "the Most Christian King is there in person with the most warlike andbest appointed of armies; the Swiss are afoot and ill armed, and I amdoubtful of their gaining the day. " "But the Swiss are valiant soldiers, are they not?" said the pope. "Were it not better, holy father, "rejoined the ambassador, "that they should show their valor against theinfidel?" When the news of the battle arrived, the ambassador, in grandarray, repaired to the pope's; and the people who saw him passing by insuch state said, "The news is certainly true. " On reaching the pope'sapartment the ambassador met the chamberlain, who told him that the holyfather was still asleep. "Wake him, " said he; but the other refused. "Do as I tell you, " insisted the ambassador. The chamberlain went in;and the pope, only half dressed, soon sallied from his room. "Holyfather, " said the Venetian, "your Holiness yesterday gave me some badnews which was false; to-day I have to give you some good news which istrue: the Swiss are beaten. " The pope read the letters brought by theambassador, and some other letters also. "What will come of it for usand for you?" asked the pope. "For us, " was the answer, "nothing butgood, since we are with the Most Christian king; and your Holiness willnot have aught of evil to suffer. " "Sir Ambassador, " rejoined the pope, "we will see what the Most Christian king will do; we will placeourselves in his hands, demanding mercy of him. " "Holy father, yourHoliness will not come to the least harm, any more than the holy See: isnot the Most Christian king the church's own son?" And in the accountgiven of this interview to the Senate of Venice the ambassador added, "The holy father is a good sort of man, a man of great liberality and ofa happy disposition; but he would not like the idea of having to givehimself much trouble. "

[Illustration: Leo X. ----21]

Leo X. Made up his mind without much trouble to accept accomplishedfacts. When he had been elected pope, he had said to his brother, Juliande' Medici, "Enjoy we the papacy, since God hath given it us" [_Godiamociil papato, poiche Dio ci l' ha dato_]. He appeared to have no furtherthought than how to pluck from the event the advantages he could discoverin it. His allies all set him an example of resignation. On the 15th ofSeptember, the day after the battle, the Swiss took the road back totheir mountains. Francis I. Entered Milan in triumph. Maximilian Sforzatook refuge in the castle, and twenty days afterwards, on the 4th ofOctober, surrendered, consenting to retire to France with a pension ofthirty thousand crowns, and the promise of being recommended for acardinal's hat, and almost consoled for his downfall "by the pleasure ofbeing delivered from the insolence of the Swiss, the exactions of theEmperor Maximilian, and the rascalities of the Spaniards. " Fifteen yearsafterwards, in June, 1530, he died in oblivion at Paris. Francis I. Regained possession of all Milaness, adding thereto, with the pope'sconsent, the duchies of Parma and Piacenza, which had been detached fromit in 1512. Two treaties, one of November 7, 1515, and the other ofNovember 29, 1516, re-established not only peace, but perpetual alliance, between the King of France and the thirteen Swiss cantons, withstipulated conditions in detail. Whilst these negotiations were inprogress, Francis I. And Leo X. , by a treaty published at Viterbo on the13th of October, proclaimed their hearty reconciliation. The popeguaranteed to Francis I. The duchy of Milan, restored to him those ofParma and Piacenza, and recalled his troops which were still servingagainst the Venetians; being careful, however, to cover his concessionsby means of forms and pretexts which gave them the character of anecessity submitted to rather than that of an independent and definiteengagement. Francis I. , on his side, guaranteed to the pope all thepossessions of the church, renounced the patronage of the petty princesof the ecclesiastical estate, and promised to uphold the family of theMedici in the position it had held at Florence since, with the King ofSpain's aid, in 1512, it had recovered the dominion there at the expenseof the party of republicans and friends of France. 

The King of France and the pope had to discuss together questions farmore important on both sides than those which had just been thus settledby their accredited agents. When they signed the treaty of Viterbo, itwas agreed that the two sovereigns should have a personal interview, atwhich they should come to an arrangement upon points of which they had asyet said nothing. Rome seemed the place most naturally adapted for thisinterview; but the pope did not wish that Francis I. Should go anddisplay his triumph there. Besides, he foresaw that the king would speakto him about the kingdom of Naples, the conquest of which was evidentlypremeditated by the king; and when Francis I. , having arrived at Rome, had already done half the journey, Leo X. Feared that it would be moredifficult to divert him. He resolved to make to the king a show ofdeference to conceal his own disquietude; and offered to go and meet himat Bologna, the town in the Roman States which was nearest to Milaness. Francis accepted the offer. The pope arrived at Bologna on the 8th ofDecember, 1515, and the king the next day. After the public ceremonies, at which the king showed eagerness to tender to the pope acts of homagewhich the pope was equally eager to curtail without repelling them, thetwo sovereigns conversed about the two questions which were uppermost intheir minds. Francis did not attempt to hide his design of reconqueringthe kingdom of Naples, which Ferdinand the Catholic had wrongfullyusurped, and he demanded the pope's countenance. The pope did not careto refuse, but he pointed out to the king that everything foretold thevery near death of King Ferdinand; and "Your majesty, " said he, "willthen have a natural opportunity for claiming your rights; and as for me, free, as I shall then be, from my engagements with the King of Arragon inrespect of the crown of Naples, I shall find it easier to respond to yourmajesty's wish. " The pope merely wanted to gain time. Francis, settingaside for the moment the kingdom of Naples, spoke of Charles VII. 'sPragmatic Sanction, and the necessity of putting an end to thedifficulties which had arisen on this subject between the court of Romeand the Kings of France, his predecessors. "As to that, " said the pope, "I could not grant what your predecessors demanded; but be not uneasy;I have a compensation to propose to you which will prove to you how dearyour interests are to me. " The two sovereigns had, without doubt, already come to an understanding on this point, when, after a three days'interview with Leo X. , Francis I. Returned to Milan, leaving at Bologna, for the purpose of treating in detail the affair of the PragmaticSanction, his chancellor, Duprat, who had accompanied him during all thiscampaign as his adviser and negotiator. 

In him the king had, under the name and guise of premier magistrate ofthe realm, a servant whose bold and complacent abilities he was not slowto recognize and to put in use. Being irritated "for that many, nothaving the privilege of sportsmen, do take beasts, both red and black, ashares, pheasants, partridges, and other game, thus frustrating us of ourdiversion and pastime that we take in the chase, " Francis I. Issued, inMarch, 1516, an ordinance which decreed against poachers the most severepenalties, and even death, and which "granted to all princes, lords, andgentlemen possessing forests or warrens in the realm, the right ofupholding therein by equally severe punishments the exclusive privilegesof their preserves. " The Parliament made remonstrances against suchexcessive rigor, and refused to register the ordinance. The chancellor, Duprat, insisted, and even threatened. "To the king alone, " said he, "belongs the right of regulating the administration of his state obey, orthe king will see in you only rebels, whom he will know how to chastise. "For a year the Parliament held out; but the chancellor persisted moreobstinately in having his way, and, on the 11th of February, 1517, theordinance was registered under a formal order from the king, to which thename was given of "letters of command. "

[Illustration: Anthony Duprat----24]

At the commencement of the war for the conquest of Milaness there was awant of money, and Francis I. Hesitated to so soon impose new taxes. Duprat gave a scandalous extension to a practice which had been for along while in use, but had always been reprobated and sometimes formallyprohibited, namely, the sale of public appointments or offices: not onlydid he create a multitude of financial and administrative offices, thesale of which brought considerable sums into the treasury, but heintroduced the abuse into the very heart of the judicial body; thetribunals were encumbered by newly-created magistrates. The estates ofLanguedoc complained in vain. The Parliament of Paris was in its turnattacked. In 1521, three councillors, recently nominated, were convictedof having paid, one three thousand eight hundred livres, and the twoothers six thousand livres. The Parliament refused to admit them. Duprat protested. The necessities of the state, he said, made borrowingobligatory; and the king was free to prefer in his selections those ofhis subjects who showed most zeal for his service. Parliament persistedin its refusal. Duprat resolved to strike a great blow. An edict ofJanuary 31, 1522, created within the Parliament a fourth chamber, composed of eighteen councillors and two presidents, all of fresh, and, no doubt, venal appointment, though the edict dared not avow as much. Two great personages, the Archbishop of Aix and Marshal de Montmorenci, were charged to present the edict to Parliament and require itsregistration. The Parliament demanded time for deliberation. It kept anabsolute silence for six weeks, and at last presented an address to thequeen-mother, trying to make her comprehend the harm such acts did to theimportance of the magistracy and to her son's government. Louiseappeared touched by these representations, and promised to representtheir full weight to the king, "if the Parliament will consent to pointout to me of itself any other means of readily raising the sum of onehundred and twenty thousand livres, which the king absolutely cannot dowithout. " The struggle was prolonged until the Parliament declared "thatit could not, without offending God and betraying its own conscience, proceed to the registration; but that if it were the king's pleasure tobe obeyed at any price, he had only to depute his chancellor or someother great personage, in whose presence and on whose requirement theregistration should take place. " Chancellor Duprat did not care toundertake this commission in person. Count de St. Pol, governor ofParis, was charged with it, and the court caused to be written at thebottom of the letters of command, "Read and published in presence ofCount de St. Pol, specially deputed for this purpose, who ordered vivavoce, in the king's name, that they be executed. "

Thus began to be implanted in that which should be the most respected andthe most independent amongst the functions of government, namely, theadministration of justice, not only the practice, but the fundamentalmaxim, of absolute government. "I am going to the court, and I willspeak the truth; after which the king will have to be obeyed, " was saidin the middle of the seventeenth century by the premier president Mold toCardinal de Retz. Chancellor Duprat, if we are not mistaken, was, in thesixteenth century, the first chief of the French magistracy to make useof language despotic not only in fact, but also in principle. PresidentMole was but the head of a body invested, so far as the king wasconcerned, with the right of remonstrance and resistance; when once thatright was exercised, he might, without servility, give himself up toresignation. Chancellor Duprat was the delegate, the organ, therepresentative of the king; it was in the name of the king himself thathe affirmed the absolute power of the kingship and the absolute duty ofsubmission. Francis I. Could not have committed the negotiation with LeoX. In respect of Charles VII. 's Pragmatic Sanction to a man with moreinclination and better adapted for the work to be accomplished. 

The Pragmatic Sanction had three principal objects:--

 1. To uphold the liberties and the influence of the faithful in the government of the church, by sanctioning their right to elect ministers of the Christian faith, especially parish priests and bishops;

 2. To guarantee the liberties and rights of the church herself in her relations with her head, the pope, by proclaiming the necessity for the regular intervention of councils and their superiority in regard to the pope;

 3. To prevent or reform abuses in the relations of the papacy with the state and church of France in the matter of ecclesiastical tribute, especially as to the receipt by the pope, under the name of annates, of the first year's revenue of the different ecclesiastical offices and benefices. 

In the fifteenth century it was the general opinion in France, in stateand in church, that there was in these dispositions nothing more than theprimitive and traditional liberties and rights of the Christian church. There was no thought of imposing upon the papacy any new regimen, butonly of defending the old and legitimate regimen, recognized and upheldby St. Louis in the thirteenth century as well as by Charles VII. In thefifteenth. 

The popes, nevertheless, had all of them protested since the days ofCharles VII. Against the Pragmatic Sanction as an attack upon theirrights, and had demanded its abolition. In 1461, Louis XI. , as hasalready been shown, had yielded for a moment to the demand of Pope PiusII. , whose countenance he desired to gain, and had abrogated thePragmatic; but, not having obtained what he wanted thereby, and havingmet with strong opposition in the Parliament of Paris to his concession, he had let it drop without formally retracting it, and, instead ofengaging in a conflict with Parliament upon the point, he thought it nobad plan for the magistracy to uphold in principle and enforce in factthe regulations of the Pragmatic Sanction. This important edict, then, was still vigorous in 1515, when Francis I. , after his victory atMelegnano and his reconciliation with the pope, left Chancellor Dupratat Bologna to pursue the negotiation reopened on that subject. Thecompensation, of which Leo X. , on redemanding the abolition of thePragmatic Sanction, had given a peep to Francis I. , could not fail tohave charms for a prince so little scrupulous, and for his still lessscrupulous chancellor. The pope proposed that the Pragmatic, once forall abolished, should be replaced by a Concordat between the twosovereigns, and that this Concordat, whilst putting a stop to theelection of the clergy by the faithful, should transfer to the king theright of nomination to bishoprics and other great ecclesiastical officesand benefices, reserving to the pope the right of presentation ofprelates nominated by the king. This, considering the condition ofsociety and government in the sixteenth century, in the absence ofpolitical and religious liberty, was to take away from the church her ownexistence, and divide her between two masters, without giving her, asregarded either of them, any other guarantee of independence than themere chance of their dissensions and quarrels. 

Egotism, even in kings, has often narrow and short-sighted views. It wascalculated that there were in France at this period ten archbishoprics, eighty-three bishoprics, and five hundred and twenty-seven abbeys. Francis I. And his chancellor saw in the proposed Concordat nothing butthe great increment of influence it secured to them, by making all thedignitaries of the church suppliants at first and then clients of thekingship. After some difficulties as to points of detail, the Concordatwas concluded and signed on the 18th of August, 1516. Five monthsafterwards, on the 5th of February, 1517, the king repaired in person toParliament, to which he had summoned many prelates and doctors of theUniversity. The chancellor explained the points of the Concordat, andrecapitulated all the facts which, according to him, had made itnecessary. The king ordered its registration, "for the good of hiskingdom and for quittance of the promise he had given the pope. "Parliament on one side, and the prelates and doctors of the Universityon the other, deliberated upon this demand. Their first answer was that, as the matter concerned the interest of the whole Gallican church, theycould not themselves decide about it, and that the church, assembled innational council, alone had the right of pronouncing judgment. "Oho! soyou cannot, " said the king; "I will soon let you see that you can, or Iwill send you all to Rome to give the pope your reasons. " To thequestion of conscience the Parliament found thenceforth added thequestion of dignity. The magistrates raised difficulties in point ofform, and asked for time to discuss the matter fundamentally; anddeputies went to carry their request to the king. He admitted thepropriety of delay, but with this comment: "I know that there are in myParliament good sort of men, wise men; but I also know that there areturbulent and rash fools; I have my eye upon them; and I am informed ofthe language they dare to hold about my conduct. I am king as mypredecessors were; and I mean to be obeyed as they were. You areconstantly vaporing to me about Louis XII. And his love of justice; knowye that justice is as dear to me as it was to him; but that king, just ashe was, often drove out from the kingdom rebels, though they were membersof Parliament; do not force me to imitate him in his severity. "Parliament entered upon a fundamental examination of the question; theirdeliberations lasted from the 13th to the 24th of July, 1517; and theconclusion they came to was, that Parliament could not and ought not toregister the Concordat; that, if the king persisted in his intention ofmaking it a law of the realm, he must employ the same means as CharlesVII. Had employed for establishing the Pragmatic Sanction, and that, therefore, he must summon a general council. On the 14th of January, 1518, two councillors arrived at Amboise, bringing to the king therepresentations of the Parliament. When their arrival was announced tothe king, "Before I receive them, " said he, "I will drag them about at myheels as long as they have made me wait. " He received them, however, andhanded their representations over to the chancellor, bidding him reply tothem. Duprat made a learned and specious reply, but one which leftintact the question of right, and, at bottom, merely defended theConcordat on the ground of the king's good pleasure and requirements ofpolicy. On the last day of February, 1518, the king gave audience to thedeputies, and handed them the chancellor's reply. They asked to examineit. "You shall not examine it, " said the king; "this would degenerateinto an endless process. A hundred of your heads, in Parliament, havebeen seven months and more painfully getting up these representations, which my chancellor has blown to the winds in a few days. There is butone king in France; I have done all I could to restore peace to mykingdom; and I will not allow nullification here of that which I broughtabout with so much difficulty in Italy. My Parliament would set up for aVenetian Senate; let it confine its meddling to the cause of justice, which is worse administered than it has been for a hundred years; Iought, perhaps, to drag it about at my heels, like the Grand Council, andwatch more closely over its conduct. " The two deputies made an attemptto prolong their stay at Amboise: but, "If before six to-morrow morning, "said the king, "they be not gone, I will send some archers to take themand cast them into a dungeon for six months; and woe to whoever dares tospeak to me for them!"

On returning to Paris the deputies were beginning to give their fellowsan account of how harsh a reception they met with, when Louis de laTremoille, the most respected amongst the chiefs of the army, entered thehall. He came by order of the king to affirm to the Parliament that todismiss the Concordat was to renew the war, and that it must obey on theinstant or profess open rebellion. Parliament upheld its decision ofJuly 24, 1517, against the Concordat, at the same time begging LaTremoille to write to the king to persuade him, if he insisted uponregistration, to send some person of note or to commission La Tremoillehimself to be present at the act, and to see indorsed upon the Concordat, "Read, published, and registered at the king's most express commandseveral times repeated, in presence of . . . , specially deputed byhim for that purpose. " Tremoille hesitated to write, and exhibited theletters whereby the king urged him to execute the strict orders laid uponhim. "What are those orders, then?" asked the premier president. "Thatis the king's secret, " answered La Tremoille: "I may not reveal it; allthat I can tell you is, that I should never have peace of mind if youforced me to carry them out. " The Parliament in its excitement begged LaTremoille to withdraw, and sent for him back almost immediately. "Choose, " said the premier president to him, "between Saturday or Mondaynext to be present at the registration. " La Tremoille chose Monday, wishing to allow himself time for an answer even yet from the king. Butno new instructions came to him; and on the 22d of March, 1518, Parliament proceeded to registration of the Concordat, with the forms andreservations which they had announced, and which were evidence ofcompulsion. The other Parliaments of France followed with more or lesszeal, according to their own particular dispositions, the example shownby that of Paris. The University was heartily disposed to pushresistance farther than had been done by Parliament: its rector caused tobe placarded on the 27th of March, 1518, in the streets of Paris, anorder forbidding all printers and booksellers to print the Concordat onpain of losing their connection with the University. The king commandedinformations to be filed against the authors and placarders of the order, and, on the 27th of April, sent to the Parliament an edict, which forbadethe University to meddle in any matter of public police, or to hold anyassembly touching such matters, under pain, as to the whole body, ofhaving its privileges revoked, and, as to individuals, of banishment andconfiscation. The king's party demanded of Parliament registration ofthis edict. Parliament confined itself to writing to the king, agreeingthat the University had no right to meddle in affairs of government, butadding that there were strong reasons, of which it would give an accountwhenever the king should please to order, why it, the Parliament, shouldrefuse registration of the edict. It does not appear that the king everasked for such account, or that his wrath against the University was moreobstinately manifested. The Concordat was registered, and Francis I. , after having achieved an official victory over the magistrates, had smallstomach for pursuing extreme measures against the men of letters. 

We have seen that in the course of the fifteenth century, there were madein France two able and patriotic attempts; the Pragmatic Sanction, in1458, under Charles VII. , and the States General of 1484, under CharlesVIII. We do not care to discuss here all the dispositions of those acts;some of them were, indeed, questionable; but they both of them, one inrespect of the church and the other of the state, aimed at causing Franceto make a great stride towards a national, free and legalized regimen, towhich French feudal society had never known how or been willing to adjustitself. These two attempts failed. It would be unjust to lay the blameon the contemporary governments. Charles VII. Was in earnest about thePragmatic Sanction which he submitted to the deliberations and votes of anational council; and Louis XI. , after having for a while given it up tothe pope, retraced his steps and left it in force. As to the StatesGeneral of 1484, neither the regent, Anne de Beaujeu, nor Charles VIII. , offered the slightest hinderance to their deliberations and their votes;and if Louis XII. Did not convoke the States afresh, he constantly strovein the government of his kingdom to render them homage and give themsatisfaction. We may feel convinced that, considering the social andintellectual condition of France at this time, these two patrioticattempts were premature; but a good policy, being premature, is not onthat account alone condemned to failure; what it wants is time to getitself comprehended, appreciated, and practised gradually andconsistently. If the successors of Louis XII. Had acted in the samespirit and with the same view as their predecessor, France would probablyhave made progress in this salutary path. But exactly the contrary tookplace. Instead of continuing a more and more free and legal regimen, Francis I. And his chancellor, Duprat, loudly proclaimed and practisedthe maxims of absolute power; in the church, the Pragmatic Sanction wasabolished; and in the state, Francis I. , during a reign of thirty-twoyears, did not once convoke the States General, and labored only to setup the sovereign right of his own sole will. The church was despoiledof her electoral autonomy; and the magistracy, treated with haughty andsilly impertinence, was vanquished and humiliated in the exercise of itsright of remonstrance. The Concordat of 1516 was not the only, but itwas the gravest pact of alliance concluded between the papacy and theFrench kingship for the promotion mutually of absolute power. 

Whilst this question formed the subject of disputes in France between thegreat public authorities, there was springing up, outside of France, between the great European powers another not more grave in regard to adistant future, but more threatening in regard to the present peace ofnations. King Ferdinand the Catholic had died on the 23d of January, 1516; and his grandson and successor, Archduke Charles, anxious to go andtake possession of the throne of Spain, had hastily concluded withFrancis I. , on the 13th of August, 1516, at Noyon, a treaty intended tosettle differences between the two crowns as to the kingdoms of Naplesand Navarre. The French and Spanish plenipotentiaries, Sires de Boisyand de Chievres, were still holding meetings at Montpellier, trying tocome to an understanding about the execution of this treaty, when thedeath of Emperor Maximilian at Wels, in Austria, on the 12th of January, 1519, occurred to add the vacant throne of a great power to the twosecond-rate thrones already in dispute between two powerful princes. Three claimants, Charles of Austria, who was the new King of Spain, Francis I. , and Henry VIII. , King of England, aspired to this splendidheritage. In 1517, Maximilian himself, in one of his fits of temper andimpecuniosity, had offered to abdicate and give up the imperial dignityto Henry VIII. For a good round sum; but the King of England's envoy, Dr. Cuthbert Tunstall, a stanch and clearsighted servant, who had been sentto Germany to deal with this singular proposal, opened his master's eyesto its hollowness and falsehood, and Henry VIII. Held himself aloof. Francis I. Remained the only rival of Charles of Austria; Maximilianlabored eagerly to pave the way for his grandson's success; and at hisdeath the struggle between the two claimants had already become so keenthat Francis I. , on hearing the news, exclaimed, "I will spend threemillions to be elected emperor, and I swear that, three years after theelection, I will be either at Constantinople or dead. "

The Turks, who had been since 1453 settled at Constantinople, were theterror of Christian Europe; and Germany especially had need of a puissantand valiant defender against them. Francis I. Calculated that theChristians of Germany and Hungary would see in him, the King of Franceand the victor of Melegnano, their most imposing and most effectualchampion. 

Having a superficial mind and being full of vain confidence, Francis I. Was mistaken about the forces and chances on his side, as well as aboutthe real and natural interests of France, and also his own. There was nocall for him to compromise himself in this electoral struggle of kings, and in a distant war against triumphant Islamry. He miscalculated thestrong position and personal valor of the rival with whom he would haveto measure swords. Charles of Austria was but nineteen, and Francis I. Was twenty-three, when they entered, as antagonists, into the arena ofEuropean politics. Charles had as yet gained no battle and won norenown; while Francis I. Was already a victorious king and a famousknight. But the young archduke's able governor, William de Croy, Lord ofChievres, "had early trained him, " says M. Mignet, "to the understandingand management of his various interests; from the time that he wasfifteen, Charles presided every day at his council; there he himself readout the contents of despatches which were delivered to him the momentthey arrived, were it even in the dead of night; his council had becomehis school, and business served him for books. . . . Being naturallyendowed with superior parts, a penetrating intellect and rare firmness ofcharacter, he schooled himself to look Fortune in the face without beingintoxicated by her smiles or troubled at her frowns, to be astonished bynothing that happened, and to make up his mind in any danger. He hadeven now the will of an emperor and an overawing manner. 'His dignity andloftiness of soul are such, ' says a contemporary writer, 'that he seemsto hold the universe under his feet. '" Charles's position in Germany wasas strong as the man himself; he was a German, a duke of Austria, of theimperial line, as natural a successor of his grandfather Maximilian atFrankfort as of his grandfather Ferdinand at Madrid. Such was theadversary, with such advantages of nationality and of person, againstwhom Francis I. , without any political necessity, and for the solepurpose of indulging an ambitious vision and his own kingly self-esteem, was about to engage in a struggle which was to entail a heavy burden onhis whole life, and bring him not in triumph to Constantinople, but incaptivity to Madrid. 

Before the death of Maximilian, and when neither party had done more thanforesee the struggle and get ready for it, Francis I. Was for some timeable to hope for some success. Seven German princes, threeecclesiastical and four laic, the Archbishops of Mayence, Cologne, andTroves, and the Duke of Saxony, the Margrave of Brandenburg, the CountPalatine of the Rhine, and the King of Bohemia, had the sole power ofelecting the emperor. Four of them, the Archbishops of Troves and ofCologne, the Count Palatine of the Rhine and the Margrave of Brandenburg, had favorably received the overtures of Francis I. , and had promised himtheir suffrages. His devoted servant, Robert de la Marck, Lord ofFleuranges, had brought to him at Amboise a German gentleman from thePalatinate, Franz von Sickingen, "of very petty family, but a very gentlecompanion, " says Fleuranges, "the most beautiful talker that I think Iever saw in my life, and in so much that there was no gentleman inGermany, prince or man of war, who would not have been glad to do himpleasure. " Francis I. Had received him with very chivalrous grace, andhad given him a pension of three thousand livres and handsome presentsfor his comrades in adventure; and Sickingen was so charmed that he saidto Fleuranges on leaving Amboise, "The king did not open his heart to meon the subject of the empire; however, I know all about it, and I beg youto tell him that I will do his service and keep the oath I gave him. "A more important personage than Sickingen, Leo X. , would have been veryglad to have for emperor in Germany neither the King of France nor theKing of Spain, both of them being far too powerful in Europe and far tooemulous in Italy not to be dangerous enemies or inconvenient allies forhim; and he tried to dissuade Francis I. From making any claim to theempire, and to induce him to employ his influence in bringing about theelection of a second-rate German prince, Frederick the Wise, Duke ofSaxony, who was justly popular in Germany, and who would never be in acondition to do France any harm. It was judicious advice and a policygood for France as well as for Europe in general; but Francis I. , infatuated by his desire and his hope, did not relish it at all; and LeoX. , being obliged to choose between the two great claimants, declared forFrancis I. , without any pleasure or confidence, but also without anygreat perplexity, for he had but little faith in the success which hemade a show of desiring. Francis, deceived by these appearances andpromises, on the part both of ecclesiastics and laics, held languagebreathing a gallant and almost careless confidence. "We are not enemies, your master and I, " he said to the ambassadors of Spain; "we are twolovers courting the same mistress: whichever of the two she may prefer, the other will have to submit, and harbor no resentment. " But when, shortly after Maximilian's death, the struggle became closer and theissue nearer, the inequality between the forces and chances of the tworivals became quite manifest, and Francis I. Could no longer affect thesame serenity. He had intrusted the management of his affairs in Germanyto a favorite comrade of his early youth, Admiral de Bonnivet, a soldierand a courtier, witty, rash, sumptuous, eager to display his master'spower and magnificence. Charles of Austria's agents, and at their headhis aunt Margaret, who had the government of the Low Countries in hisabsence, were experienced, deliberate, discreet, more eager to succeed intheir purpose than to make a brilliant appearance, and resolved to doquietly whatever was necessary for success. And to do so they werebefore long as fully authorized as they were resolved. They discoveredthat Francis I. Had given Bonnivet four hundred thousand crowns in goldthat he might endeavor to bribe the electors; it was, according toreport, double the sum Charles of Austria had promised for the sameobject; and his agents sent him information of it, and received thisanswer: "We are wholly determined to spare nothing and to stake all forall upon it, as the matter we most desire and have most at heart in thisworld. . . . The election must be secured, whatever it may cost me. "The question before the seven elective princes who were to dispose of theempire was thenceforth merely which of the two claimants would be thehigher and the safer bidder. Francis I. Engaged in a tussle of wealthand liberality with Charles of Austria. One of his agents wrote to him, "All will go well if we can fill the maw of the Margrave Joachim ofBrandenburg; he and his brother the elector from Mayence fall every dayinto deeper depths of avarice; we must hasten to satisfy them with_speed, speed, speed_. " Francis I. Replied, "I will have Marquis Joachim_gorged_ at any price;" and he accordingly made over to him in readymoney and bills of short dates all that was asked for by the margrave, who on the 8th of April, 1519, gave a written undertaking to support thecandidature "of the most invincible and Most Christian prince, Francis, by the grace of God King of the French, Duke of Milan, and Lord of Genoa, who, what with his vigorous age, his ability, his justice, his militaryexperience, the brilliant fortune of his arms, and all other qualitiesrequired for war and the management of the commonwealth, surpasses, inthe judgment of every one, all other Christian princes. " But Charles ofAustria did not consider himself beaten because two of the seven electorsdisplayed avarice and venality. His aunt Margaret and his principalagent in Germany, the Chamberlain Armerstoff, resumed financialnegotiations with the Archbishop of Mayence, for his brother the margraveas well as for himself, and the archbishop, without any formalengagement, accepted the Austrian over-bid. "I am ashamed at hisshamelessness, " wrote Armerstorff to Charles. Alternate and antagonisticbargaining went on thus for more than two months. The Archbishop ofCologne, Hermann von Wied, kept wavering between the two claimants; buthe was careful to tell John d'Albret, Francis I. 's agent, that "hesincerely hoped that his Majesty would follow the doctrine of God, whogave as much to those who went to work in His vineyard towards the middleof the day as to those who had been at it all the morning. " DukeFrederick of Saxony was the only one of the seven electors who absolutelyrefused to make any promise, as well as to accept any offer, andpreserved his independence, as well as his dignity. The rumor of allthese traffickings and these uncertainties rekindled in Henry VIII. , Kingof England, a fancy for placing himself once more in the ranks; but hisagent, Richard Pace, found the negotiations too far advanced and theprices too high for him to back up this vain whim of his master's; andHenry VIII. Abandoned it. The diet had been convoked for the 17th ofJune at Frankfort. The day was drawing near; and which of the twoparties had the majority was still regarded as, uncertain. Franz vonSickingen appeared in the outskirts of Frankfort with more than twentythousand men of the German army, "whereat marvellously astonished, " saysFleuranges, "were they who wished well to the King of France and verymightily rejoiced they who wished well to the Catholic king. "The gentleman-adventurer had not been less accessible than theprince-electors to bribery. The diet opened on the 18th of June. TheArchbishop of Mayence made a great speech in favor of Charles of Austria;and the Archbishop of Troves spoke in favor of Francis I. , to whom he hadremained faithful. Rival intrigues were kept up; Sickingen and histroops were a clog upon deliberation; the electors were embarrassed andweary of their dissensions; and the Archbishop of Troves proposed by wayof compromise the election of the Duke of Saxony, Frederick the Wise, who, at this crisis so shameful for his peers, had just given freshproofs of his sound judgment, his honesty, and his patrioticindependence. But Frederick declined the honor it was intended to dohim, and which he considered beyond his powers to support; and he votedfor Archduke Charles, "a real German prince, " said he, "the choice ofwhom seemed to him most natural in point of right and most suitable inpoint of fact under the present circumstances of Europe. " The six otherelectors gave in to his opinion, and that same day, June 18, 1519, unanimously elected the King of Spain, Charles, King of the Romans andEmperor of Germany, with the title of Charles V. 

[Illustration: Charles V----39]

Whatever pains were taken by Francis I. To keep up a good appearanceafter this heavy reverse, his mortification was profound, and he thoughtof nothing but getting his revenge. He flattered himself he would findsomething of the sort in a solemn interview and an appearance of alliancewith Henry VIII. , King of England, who had, like himself, just undergonein the election to the empire a less flagrant but an analogous reverse. It had already, in the previous year and on the occasion of a treatyconcluded between the two kings for the restitution of Tournai to France, been settled that they should meet before long in token ofreconciliation. Allusion had even been made, at that period, to a muchmore important restitution, of Calais in fact, for which Francis I. , atwhat price we know not, had obtained the advocacy of Cardinal Wolsey, whowas then all-powerful with Henry VIII. "Of what use to Us, " Wolsey hadsaid, "is this town of Calais, where in time of peace as well as of warwe have to keep up such numerous garrisons, which costs us so much money, and which so often forces us to measures contrary to the real interestsof England?" But this idea was vehemently scouted by the English, andthe coming interview between the two kings remained the sole accessory ofthe treaty of 1518. After Charles V. 's election to the empire, FrancisI. Was eager to claim this interview, which was sure to cause in Europethe impression of a close understanding between the two kings before thevery eyes of their common rival. A convention, signed on the 26th ofMarch, 1520, regulated its details. It was stipulated that the two kingsshould meet in Picardy between Guines, an English possession in theneighborhood of Calais, and Ardres, which belonged to France. But, sosoon as Charles V. , at that time in Spain, was informed of this design, he used all his efforts to make it abortive. Henry, however, stood firm;not that he had resolved to knit himself closely with Francis I. Againstthe new emperor, whom, a few months previously, he had shown alacrity infelicitating upon his accession to the empire, but he was unwilling tofail in his promise to the King of France, and he liked to assume inrespect of the two rivals the part of an arbiter equally courted by both. Charles V. , still actively working against the interview, entered intosecret negotiation with Cardinal Wolsey to obtain for himself also aninterview with Henry VIII. , which would destroy the effect of that incourse of arrangement between the Kings of France and England. Inwriting to Wolsey he called him his "very dear friend, " and guaranteedhim a pension of seven thousand ducats, secured upon two Spanishbishoprics; and on the 26th of May, 1520, Henry VIII. Received atCanterbury, as he was passing by on his way to embark at Dover for theinterview in France, the as it were unexpected information that CharlesV. Had just arrived with his fleet at the port of Hythe. The kingimmediately sent Wolsey to meet the emperor, who disembarked at Dover, whither Henry went to visit him; and the two sovereigns repaired togetherto Canterbury, where they went in state to the cathedral, "resplendent, "says Erasmus, "with all the precious gifts it had received for so manycenturies, especially with the most precious of all, the chest containingthe remains of Thomas a-Becket, so magnificent that gold was the least ofits ornaments. " There they passed three days, treating of their affairsin the midst of galas, during which Charles V. Completely won over Wolseyby promising to help him to become pope. On the 31st of May, 1520, Charles, quite easy about the interview in France, embarked at Sandwichfor his Flemish possessions, and Henry VIII. Made sail for Calais, hispoint of departure to the place agreed upon for Francis to meet him, andwhere they had made up their minds, both of them, to display all thesplendors of their two courts. 

This meeting has remained celebrated in history far more for its royalpomp, and for the personal incidents which were connected with it, thanfor its political results. It was called _The Field of Cloth of Gold;_and the courtiers who attended the two sovereigns felt bound to almostrival them in sumptuousness, "insomuch, " says the contemporary Martin duBellay, "that many bore thither their mills, their forests, and theirmeadows on their backs. " Henry VIII. Had employed eleven hundredworkmen, the most skilful of Flanders and Holland, in building aquadrangular palace of wood, one hundred and twenty-eight feet long everyway; on one side of the entrance-gate was a fountain, covered withgilding, and surmounted by a statue of Bacchus, round which there flowedthrough subterranean pipes all sorts of wines, and which bore in lettersof gold the inscription, "Make good cheer, who will;" and on the otherside a column, supported by four lions, was surmounted by a statue ofCupid armed with bow and arrows. Opposite the palace was erected a hugefigure of a savage wearing the arms of his race, with this inscription, chosen by Henry VIII. : "He whom I back wins. " The frontage was coveredoutside with canvas painted to represent freestone; and the inside washung with rich tapestries. Francis I. , emulous of equalling his royalneighbor in magnificence, had ordered to be erected close to Ardres animmense tent, upheld in the middle by a colossal pole firmly fixed in theground and with pegs and cordage all around it. Outside, the tent, inthe shape of a dome, was covered with cloth of gold; and, inside, itrepresented a sphere with a ground of blue velvet and studded with stars, like the firmament. At each angle of the large tent there was a smallone equally richly decorated. But before the two sovereigns exchangedvisits, in the midst of all these magnificent preparations, there arosea violent hurricane, which tore up the pegs and split the cordage of theFrench tent, scattered them over the ground, and forced Francis I. Totake up his quarters in an old castle near Ardres. When the two kings'two chief councillors, Cardinal Wolsey on one side and Admiral Bonniveton the other, had regulated the formalities, on the 7th of June, 1520, Francis I. And Henry VIII. Set out on their way, at the same hour and thesame pace, for their meeting in the valley of Ardres, where a tent hadbeen prepared for them. As they drew near, some slight anxiety wasmanifested by the escort of the King of England, amongst whom a beliefprevailed that that of the King of France was more numerous; but it wassoon perceived to be nothing of the sort. The two kings, mounted uponfine horses and superbly dressed, advanced towards one another; and HenryVIII. 's horse stumbled, which his servants did not like. The two kingssaluted each other with easy grace, exchanged embraces without gettingoff their horses, dismounted, and proceeded arm-in-arm to the tent whereWolsey and De Bonnivet were awaiting them. "My dear brother and cousin, "immediately said Francis with his easy grace, "I am come a long way, andnot without trouble, to see you in person. I hope that you hold me forsuch as I am, ready to give you aid with the kingdoms and lordships thatare in my power. " Henry, with a somewhat cold reserve, replied, "It isnot your kingdoms or your divers possessions that I regard, but thesoundness and loyal observance of the promises set down in the treatiesbetween you and me. My eyes never beheld a prince who could be dearer tomy heart, and I have crossed the seas at the extreme boundary of mykingdom to come and see you. " The two kings entered the tent and signeda treaty whereby the Dauphin of France was to marry Princess Mary, onlydaughter at that time of Henry VIII. , to whom Francis I. Undertook to payannually a sum of one hundred thousand livres [two million eight hundredthousand francs, or one hundred and twelve thousand pounds in the moneyof our day], until the marriage was celebrated, which would not be forsome time yet, as the English princess was only four years old. The twokings took wine together, according to custom, and reciprocally presentedthe members of their courts. "King Francis, " says Henry VIII. 's favoritechronicler, Edward Hall, who was there, "is an amiable prince, proud inbearing and gay in manner, with a brown complexion, large eyes, longnose, thick lips, broad chest and shoulders, short legs, and big feet. "Titian's portrait gives a loftier and more agreeable idea of Francis I. 

When the two kings proceeded to sign, in their tent, the treaty they hadjust concluded, "the King of England, " according to Fleuranges'_Memoires, _ "himself took up the articles and began to read them. Whenhe had read those relating to the King of France, who was to have thepriority, and came to speak of himself, he got as far as, 'I, Henry, King' . . . (he would have said of _France and England_), but he leftout the title as far as France was concerned, and said to King Francis, 'I will not put it in as you are here, for I should lie;' and he saidonly, 'I Henry, King of _England_. '" But, as M. Mignet very properlysays, "if he omitted the title in his reading, he left it in the treatyitself, and, shortly afterwards, was ambitious to render it a reality, when he invaded France and wished to reign over it. "

After the diplomatic stipulations were concluded, the royal meeting wasprolonged for sixteen days, which were employed in tourneys, jousts, andall manner of festivals. The personal communication of the two kings wasregulated with all the precautions of official mistrust and restraint;and when the King of England went to Ardres to see the Queen of France, the King of France had to go to Guines to see the Queen of England, forthe two kings were hostages for one another. "The King of France, whowas not a suspicious man, " says Fleuranges, "was mighty vexed at therebeing so little confidence in one another. He got up one morning veryearly, which is not his habit, took two gentlemen and a page, the firstthree he could find, mounted his horse, and went to visit the King ofEngland at the castle of Guines. When he came on to the castle-bridge, all the English were mighty astonished. As he rode amongst them, theking gayly called upon them to surrender to him, and asked them the wayto the chamber of the king his brother, the which was pointed out to himby the governor of Guines, who said to him, 'Sir, he is not awake. ' ButKing Francis passed on all the same, went up to the said chamber, knockedat the door, awoke the King of England, and walked in. 

[Illustration: Francis I. Surprises Henry VIII. ----44]

Never was man more dumbfounded than King Henry, who said to King Francis, 'Brother, you have done me a better turn than ever man did to another, and you show me the great trust I ought to have in you. I yield myselfyour prisoner from this moment, and I proffer you my parole. ' He undidfrom his neck a collar worth fifteen thousand angels, and begged the Kingof France to take it and wear it that very day for his prisoner's sake. And, lo, the king, who wished to do him the same turn, had brought withhim a bracelet which was worth more than thirty thousand angels, andbegged him to wear it for his sake, which thing he did, and the King ofFrance put what had been given him on his neck. Thereupon the King ofEngland was minded to get up, and the King of France said that he shouldhave no other chamber-attendant but himself, and he warmed his shirt andhanded it to him when he was up. The King of France made up his mind togo back, notwithstanding that the King of England would have kept him todinner; but, inasmuch as there was to be jousting after dinner, hemounted his horse and went back to Ardres. He met a many good folk whowere coming to meet him, amongst the rest l'Aventureux [a name given toFleuranges himself], who said to him, 'My dear master, you are mad tohave done what you have done; I am very glad to see you back here, anddevil take him who counselled you. ' Whereupon the king said that never asoul had counselled him, and that he knew well that there was not a soulin his kingdom who would have so counselled him; and then he began totell what he had done at the said Guines, and so returned, conversing, toArdres, for it was not far. "

"Then began the jousts, which lasted a week, and were wondrous fine, botha-foot and a-horseback. After all these pastimes the King of France andthe King of England retired to a pavilion, where they drank together. And there the King of England took the King of France by the collar, andsaid to him, 'Brother, I should like to wrestle with you, ' and gave him afeint or two; and the King of France, who is a mighty good wrestler, gavehim a turn and threw him on the ground. And the King of England wouldhave had yet another trial; but all that was broken off, and it was timeto go to supper. After this they had yet three or four jousts andbanquets, and then they took leave of one another [on the 24th of June, 1520], with the greatest possible peace between the princes andprincesses. That done, the King of England returned to Guines, and theKing of France to France; and it was not without giving great gifts atparting, one to another. " [_Memoires de Fleuranges, _ pp. 349-363. ]

[Illustration: The Field of the Cloth of Gold----45]

Having left the Field of Cloth of Gold for Amboise, his favoriteresidence, Francis I. Discovered that Henry VIII. , instead of returningdirect to England, had gone, on the 10th of July, to Gravelines, inFlanders, to pay a visit to Charles V. , who had afterwards accompaniedhim to Calais. The two sovereigns had spent three days there, andCharles V. , on separating from the King of England, had commissioned himto regulate, as arbiter, all difficulties that might arise betweenhimself and the King of France. Assuredly nothing was less calculated toinspire Francis I. With confidence in the results of his meeting withHenry VIII. And of their mutual courtesies. Though he desired to avoidthe appearance of taking the initiative in war, he sought every occasionand pretext for recommencing it; and it was not long before he found themin the Low Countries, in Navarre, and in Italy. A trial was made ofHenry VIII. 's mediation and of a conference at Calais; and a discussionwas raised touching the legitimate nature of the protection afforded bythe two rival sovereigns to their petty allies. But the real fact was, that Francis I. Had a reverse to make up for and a passion to gratify;and the struggle recommenced in April, 1521, in the Low Countries. Charles V. , when he heard that the French had crossed his frontier, exclaimed, "God be praised that I am not the first to commence the war, and that the King of France is pleased to make me greater than I am, for, in a little while, either I shall be a very poor emperor or he will be apoor King of France. " The campaign opened in the north, to the advantageof France, by the capture of Hesdin; Admiral Bonnivet, who had thecommand on the frontier of Spain, reduced some small forts of Biscay andthe fortress of Fontarabia; and Marshal de Lautrec, governor of Milaness, had orders to set out at once to go and defend it against the Spaniardsand Imperialists, who were concentrating for its invasion. 

Lautrec was but little adapted for this important commission. He hadbeen made governor of Milaness in August, 1516, to replace the Constablede Bourbon, whose recall to France the queen-mother, Louise of Savoy, haddesired and stimulated. Lautrec had succeeded ill in his government. Hewas active and brave, but he was harsh, haughty, jealous, imperious, andgrasping; and he had embroiled himself with most of the Milanese lords, amongst others with the veteran J. J. Trivulzio, who, under Charles VIII. And Louis XII. , had done France such great service in Italy. Trivulzio, offensively treated at Milan, and subjected to accusations at Paris, went, at eighty-two years of age, to France to justify himself before theking; but Francis I. Gave him a cold reception, barely spoke to him, anddeclined his explanations. One day, at Arpajon, Trivulzio heard that theking was to pass on horseback through the town; and, being unable towalk, had himself carried, ill as he was, in his chair to the middle ofthe street. The king passed with averted head, and without replying toTrivulzio, who cried, "Sir, ah! sir, just one moment's audience!"Trivulzio, on reaching home, took to his bed, and died there a monthafterwards, on the 5th of December, 1518, having himself dictated thisepitaph, which was inscribed on his tomb, at Milan, "J. J. Trivulzio, sonof Anthony: he who never rested, rests. Hush!" [_J. J. Trivultius, Antonii filius, qui nunquam quievit, quiescit. Tace!_]

Francis I. , when informed that Trivulzio was near his end, regretted, itis said, his harsh indifference, and sent to express to him his regret;but, "It is too late, " answered the dying man. In the king's harshnessthere was something more than ungrateful forgetfulness of a veteran'sancient services. While Francis was bringing about a renewal of war inItaly, in the Low Countries, and on the frontier of Spain, he wasabandoning himself at Paris, Tours, Amboise, and wherever he resided, toall the diversions and all the enticements of the brilliant court whichwas gathered around him. Extravagance and pleasure were a passion withhim. "There has been talk, " says Brantome, "of the great outlay, magnificence, sumptuousness and halls of Lucullus; but in nought of thatkind did he ever come near our king . . . And what is most rare is, that in a village, in the forest, at the meet, there was the same serviceas there would have been in Paris. . . . One day, when the king wasexpecting the Emperor Charles to dinner, word came that he had slippedaway, and had gone to give a sudden surprise to the constable, just as hewas sitting down to table, and to dine with him and all his comradescomradewise. He found this table as well furnished and supplied, andladen with victuals as well cooked and flavored, as if they had been inParis or some other good city of France; whereat the emperor was somightily astonished that he said that there was no such grandeur in theworld as that of such a King of France. . . . In respect of ladies, of a surety it must be confessed that before the time of King Francisthey set foot in and frequented the court but little and in but smallnumbers. It is true that Queen Anne (of Brittany) began to make herladies' court larger than it had been under former queens; and, withouther, the king her husband (Louis XII. ) would have taken no trouble aboutit. But Francis I. , coming to reign, and considering that the wholegrace of the court was the ladies, was pleased to fill it up with themmore than had been the ancient custom. Since, in truth, a court withoutladies is a garden without any pretty flowers, and more resembles aSatrap's or a Turk's court than that of a great Christian king. . . . As for me, I hold that there was never anything better introduced thanthe ladies' court. Full often have I seen our kings go to camp, or town, or elsewhither, remain there and divert themselves for some days, and yettake thither no ladies. But we were so bewildered, so lost, so moped, that for the week we spent away from them and their pretty eyes itappeared to us a year; and always a-wishing, 'When shall we be at thecourt?' Not, full often, calling that the court where the king was, butthat where the queen and ladies were. " [_OEuvres de Brantome, edition ofthe Societe de l'Histoire de France, _ t. Iii. Pp. 120-129. ]

Now, when so many fair ladies are met together in a life of sumptuousnessand gayety, a king is pretty sure to find favorites, and royal favoritesrarely content themselves with pleasing the king; they desire to maketheir favor serviceable their family and their friends. Francis I. Hadmade choice one, Frances de Foix, countess of Chateaubriant, beautifulambitious, dexterous, haughty, readily venturing upon rivalry with eventhe powerful queen-mother. She had three brothers; Lautrec was one ofthe three, and she supported him in all his pretensions and all histrials of fortune. When he set out to go and take the command in Italy, he found himself at the head of an army numerous indeed, but badlyequipped, badly paid, and at grips with Prosper Colonna, the most ableamongst the chiefs of the coalition formed at this juncture betweenCharles V. And Pope Leo X. Against the French. Lautrec did not succeedin preventing Milan from falling into the hands of the Imperialists, and, after an uncertain campaign of some months' duration, he lost at LaBicocca, near Monza, on the 27th of April, 1522, a battle, which left inthe power of Francis I. , in Lombardy, only the citadels of Milan, Cremona, and Novara. At the news of these reverses, Francis I. Repairedto Lyons, to consult as to the means of applying a remedy. Lautrec alsoarrived there. "The king, " says Martin du Bellay, "gave him a badreception, as the man by whose fault he considered he had lost his duchyof Milan, and would not speak to him. " Lautrec found an occasion foraddressing the king, and complained vehemently of "the black looks hegave him. " "And good reason, " said the king, "when you have lost me sucha heritage as the duchy of Milan. " "'Twas not I who lost it, " answeredLautrec; "'twas your Majesty yourself: I several times warned you that, if I were not helped with money, there was no means of retaining themen-at-arms, who had served for eighteen months without a penny, andlikewise the Swiss, who forced me to fight at a disadvantage, which theywould never have done if they had received their pay. " "I sent you fourhundred thousand crowns when you asked for them. " "I received theletters in which your Majesty notified me of this money, but the moneynever. " The king sent at once for the superintendent-general of finance, James de Beaune, Baron of Semblancay, who acknowledged having receivedorders on the subject from the king, but added that at the very momentwhen he was about to send this sum to the army, the queen-mother had comeand asked him for it, and had received it from him, whereof he was readyto make oath. Francis I. Entered his mother's room in a rage, reproaching her with having been the cause of losing him his duchy ofMilan. "I should never have believed it of you, " he said, "that you wouldhave kept money ordered for the service of my army. " The queen-mother, somewhat confused at first, excused herself by saying, that "those weremoneys proceeding from the savings which she had made out of herrevenues, and had given to the superintendent to take care of. "Semblancay stuck to what he had said. The question became a personal onebetween the queen-mother and the minister; and commissioners wereappointed to decide the difference. Chancellor Duprat was the docileservant of Louise of Savoy and the enemy of Semblancay, whose authorityin financial matters he envied; and he chose the commissioners fromamongst the mushroom councillors he had lately brought into Parliament. The question between the queen-mother and the superintendent led tonothing less than the trial of Semblancay. The trial lasted five years, and, on the 9th of April, 1527, a decree of Parliament condemnedSemblancay to the punishment of death and confiscation of all hisproperty; not for the particular matter which had been the origin of thequarrel, but "as attained and convicted of larcenies, falsifications, abuses, malversations, and maladministration of the king's finances, without prejudice as to the debt claimed by the said my lady, the motherof the king. " Semblancay, accordingly, was hanged on the gibbet ofMontfaucon, on the 12th of August. In spite of certain ambiguities whicharose touching some acts of his administration and some details of histrial, public feeling was generally and very strongly in his favor. Hewas an old and faithful servant of the crown; and Francis I. Had for along time called him "his father. " He was evidently the victim of thequeen-mother's greed and vengeance. The firmness of his behavior, at thetime of his execution, became a popular theme in the verses of ClementMarot:--

 When Maillart, officer of hell, escorted To Montfaucon Semblancay, doomed to die, Which, to your thinking, of the twain supported The better havior? I will make reply: Maillart was like the man to death proceeding; And Semblancay so stout an ancient looked, It seemed, forsooth, as if himself were leading Lieutenant Maillard--to the gallows booked!

It is said that, at the very moment of execution, Semblancay, waiting onthe scaffold for at least a commutation of the penalty, said, "Had Iserved God as I have served the king, He would not have made me wait solong. " Nearly two centuries later, in 1683, a more celebrated ministerthan Semblancay, Colbert, in fact, as he was dying tranquilly in his bed, after having for twenty years served Louis XIV. , and in that service madethe fortune of his family as well as his own, said also, "Had I done forGod what I have done for yonder man, I had been twice saved; and now Iknow not what will become of me. " A striking similarity in language andsentiment, in spite of such different ends, between two great councillorsof kings, both devoted during their lives to the affairs of the world, and both passing, at their last hour, this severe judgment, asChristians, upon the masters of the world and upon themselves. 

About the same time the government of Francis I. Was involved, throughhis mother's evil passions, not in an act more morally shameful, but inan event more politically serious, than the execution of Semblancay. There remained in France one puissant prince, the last of the feudalsemi-sovereigns, and the head of that only one of the provincialdynasties sprung from the dynasty of the Capetians which still held itsown against the kingly house. There were no more Dukes of Burgundy, Dukes of Anjou, Counts of Provence, and Dukes of Brittany; by goodfortune or by dexterous management the French kingship had absorbed allthose kindred and rival states. Charles II. , Duke of Bourbon, alone wasinvested with such power and independence as could lead to rivalry. Hewas in possession of Bourbonness, of Auvergne, of Le Forez, of La Marche, of Beaujolais, and a large number of domains and castles in differentparts of France. Throughout all these possessions he levied taxes andtroops, convoked the local estates, appointed the officers of justice, and regulated almost the whole social organism. He was born on the 10thof February, 1490, four years before Francis I. ; he was the head of theyounger branch of the Bourbons-Montpensier; and he had married, in 1515, his cousin, Suzanne of Bourbon, only daughter of Peter II. , head of theelder branch, and Anne of France, the able and for a long while puissantdaughter of Louis XI. Louis XII. Had taken great interest in thismarriage, and it had been stipulated in the contract "that the pairshould make a mutual and general settlement of all their possessions infavor of the survivor. " Thus the young duke, Charles, had united all thepossessions of the house of Bourbon; and he held at Moulins a brilliantprincely court, of which he was himself the most brilliant ornament. Having been trained from his boyhood in all chivalrous qualities, he wasan accomplished knight before becoming a tried warrior; and he no soonerappeared upon the field of battle than he won renown not only as avaliant prince, but as an eminent soldier. In 1509, at the battle ofAgnadello, under the eye of Louis XII. Himself, he showed that he was aworthy pupil of La Tremoille, of La Palice, and of Bayard; and in 1512, at that of Ravenna, his reputation was already so well established in thearmy that, when Gaston de Foix was killed, they clamored for Duke Charlesof Bourbon, then twenty-two years old, as his successor. Louis XII. Gave him full credit for his bravery and his warlike abilities; but theyoung prince's unexpansive character, haughty independence, and momentaryflashes of audacity, caused the veteran king some disquietude. "I wish, "said he, "he had a more open, more gay, less taciturn spirit; stagnantwater affrights me. " In 1516, the year after Louis XII. 's death, AndrewTrevisani, Venetian ambassador at Milan, wrote to the Venetian council, "This Duke of Bourbon handles a sword most gallantly and successfully; hefears God, he is devout, humane, and very generous; he has a revenue ofone hundred and twenty thousand crowns, twenty thousand from hismother-in-law, Anne of France, and two thousand a month as constable ofFrance; and, according to what is said by M. De Longueville, governor ofParis, he might dispose of half the king's army for any enterprise hepleased, even if the king did not please. "

Scarcely had Francis I. Ascended the throne, on the 12th of January, 1515, when he made the Duke of Bourbon's great position still greater bycreating him constable of France. Was it solely to attach to himself thegreatest lord and one of the most distinguished soldiers of the kingdom, or had, perhaps, as has already been hinted, the favor of thequeen-mother something to do with the duke's speedy elevation? The wholehistory of Charles of Bourbon tends to a belief that the feelings ofLouise of Savoy towards him, her love or her hate, had great influenceupon the decisive incidents of his life. However that may be, the youngconstable, from the moment of entering upon his office, fully justifiedthe king's choice. 

[Illustration: The Constable de Bourbon----53]

He it was who, during the first campaign in Italy, examined in person, with the shepherd who had pointed it out, an unknown passage across theAlps; and, on the 13th and 14th of September, he contributed greatly tothe victory of Melegnano. "I can assure you, " wrote Francis I. To hismother, the regent, "that my brother the constable and M. De St. Polsplintered as many lances as any gentlemen of the company whosoever; andI speak of this as one who saw; they spared themselves as little as ifthey had been wild boars at bay. " On returning to France the kingappointed the constable governor of conquered Milaness; and to give him afurther mark of favor, "he granted him the noble privilege of foundingtrades in all the towns of the kingdom. This, when the Parliamentenregistered the king's letters patent, was expressly stated to be inconsideration of Bourbon's extraordinary worth, combined with his qualityas a prince of the blood, and not because of his office of constable. "[_Histoire de la Maison de Bourbon, _ by M. Desormeaux, t. Ii. P. 437. ]The constable showed that he was as capable of governing as ofconquering. He foiled all Emperor Maximilian's attempts to recoverMilaness; and, not receiving from the king money for the maintenance andpay of his troops, he himself advanced one hundred thousand livres, opened a loan-account in his own name, raised an army-working-corps ofsix thousand men to repair the fortifications of Milan, and obtained fromthe Swiss cantons permission to enlist twelve thousand recruits amongstthem. His exercise of authority over the Lombard population wassometimes harsh, but always judicious and efficient. Nevertheless, inthe spring of 1516, eight months after the victory of Melegnano and buttwo months after he had driven Emperor Maximilian from Milaness, the Dukeof Bourbon was suddenly recalled, and Marshal de Lautrec was appointedgovernor in his place. When the constable arrived at Lyons, where thecourt then happened to be, "the king, " says Fleuranges in his Memoires, "gave him marvellously good welcome;" but kings are too ready to imaginethat their gracious words suffice to hide or make up for their acts ofreal disfavor; and the Duke of Bourbon was too proud to delude himself. If he had any desire to do so, the way in which the king's governmenttreated him soon revealed to him his real position: the advances he hadmade and the debts he had contracted for the service of the crown inMilaness, nay, his salary as constable and his personal pensions, wereunpaid. Was this the effect of secret wrath on the part of thequeen-mother, hurt because he seemed to disdain her good graces, or anact arising may be from mistrust and may be from carelessness on theking's part, or merely a result of the financial disorder into which theaffairs of Francis I. Were always falling? These questions cannot besolved with certainty. Anyhow the constable, though thus maltreated, did not cry out; but his royal patroness and mother-in-law, Anne ofFrance, daughter of Louis XI. , dowager-duchess of the house of Bourbon, complained of these proceedings to the king's mother, and uttered theword ingratitude. The dispute between the two princesses grew rancorous;the king intervened to reconcile them; speedy payment was promised ofall that was due to the constable, but the promise was not kept. Theconstable did not consider it seemly to wait about; so he quitted thecourt and withdrew into his own duchy, to Moulins, not openly disgraced, but resolved to set himself, by his proud independence, above the reachof ill-will, whether on the king's part or his mother's. 

Moulins was an almost kingly residence. "The dukes, " said the Venetiantraveller Andrew Navagero, in 1528, "have built there fortress-wise amagnificent palace, with beautiful gardens, groves, fountains, and allthe sumptuous appliances of a prince's dwelling. " No sooner did theconstable go to reside there than numbers of the nobility flocked thitheraround him. The feudal splendor of this abode was shortly afterwardsenhanced by an auspicious domestic incident. In 1517 the Duchess ofBourbon was confined there of a son, a blessing for some time pastunhoped for. The delighted constable determined to make of the child'sbaptism a great and striking event; and he begged the king to come and begodfather, with the dowager Duchess of Bourbon as godmother. Francis I. Consented and repaired to Moulins with his mother and nearly all hiscourt. The constable's magnificence astonished even the magnificent king"five hundred gentlemen, all clad in velvet, and all wearing a chain ofgold going three times round the neck, " were in habitual attendance uponthe duke; "the throng of the invited was so great that neither the castleof Moulins nor the town itself sufficed to lodge them; tents had to bepitched in the public places, in the streets, in the park. " Francis I. Could not refrain from saying that a King of France would have muchdifficulty in making such a show; the queen-mother did not hide herjealousy; regal temper came into collision with feudal pride. AdmiralBonnivet, a vassal of the constable and a favorite of the king, washaving built, hard by Chatellerault, a castle so vast and so magnificent, "that he seemed, " says Brantome, "to be minded to ride the high horseover the house of M. De Bourbon, in such wise that it should appear onlya nest beside his own. " Francis I. , during a royal promenade, took theconstable one day to see the edifice the admiral was building, and askedhim what he thought of it. "I think, " said Bourbon, "that the cage istoo big and too fine for the bird. " "Ah!" said the king, "do you notspeak with somewhat of envy?" "I!" cried the constable; "I feel envy ofa gentleman whose ancestors thought themselves right happy to be squiresto mine!" In their casual and familiar conversations the least pretextwould lead to sharp words between the Duke of Bourbon and his kinglyguest. The king was rallying him one day on the attachment he wassuspected of having felt for a lady of the court. "Sir, " said theconstable, "what you have just said has no point for me, but a good dealfor those who were not so forward as I was in the lady's good graces. "[At this period princes of the blood, when speaking to the king, saidMonsieur; when they wrote to him, they called him Monseigneur. ] FrancisI. , to whom this scarcely veiled allusion referred, was content to reply, "Ah! my dear cousin, you fly out at everything, and you are mightyshort-tempered. " The nickname of short-tempered stuck to the constablefrom that day, and not without reason. With anybody but the king theconstable was a good deal more than short-tempered the chancellor, Duprat, who happened to be at Moulins, and who had a wish to becomepossessed of two estates belonging to the constable, tried to wormhimself into his good graces; but Bourbon gave him sternly to understandwith what contempt he regarded him, and Duprat, who had hitherto beenmerely the instrument of Louise of Savoy's passions, so far as the dukewas concerned, became henceforth his personal enemy, and did not waitlong for an opportunity of making the full weight of his enmity felt. The king's visit to Moulins came to an end without any settlement ofthe debts due from the royal treasury to the constable. Three yearsafterwards, in 1520, he appeared with not a whit the less magnificenceat the Field of Cloth of Gold, where he was one of the two great lordschosen by Francis I. To accompany him at his interview with Henry VIII. ;but the constable had to put up with the disagreeableness of having forhis associate upon that state occasion Admiral Bonnivet, whom he had butlately treated with so much hauteur, and his relations towards the courtwere by no means improved by the honor which the king conferred upon himin summoning him to his side that day. Henry VIII. , who was struck bythis vassal's haughty bearing and looks, said to Francis I. , "If I had asubject like that in my kingdom, I would not leave his head very long onhis shoulders. "

More serious causes of resentment came to aggravate a situation alreadyso uncomfortable. The war, which had been a-hatching ever since theimperial election at Frankfort, burst out in 1521, between Francis I. And Charles V. Francis raised four armies in order to face it on all hisfrontiers, in Guienne, in Burgundy, in Champagne, and in Picardy, "wherethere was no army, " says Du Bellai, "however small. " None of these greatcommands was given to the Duke of Bourbon; and when the king summoned himto the army of Picardy, whither he repaired in all haste with sixthousand foot and three hundred men-at-arms raised in his own states, the command of the advance-guard, which belonged to him by right of hisconstableship, was given to the Duke of Alencon, who had nothing torecommend him beyond the fact that he was the husband of Marguerite deValois and brother-in-law of the king. Bourbon deeply resented thisslight; and it was remarked that he frequently quoted with peculiarmeaning a reply made by a Gascon gentleman to King Charles VII. , who hadasked him if anything could shake his fidelity, "Nothing, sir, nothing;not even an offer of three such kingdoms as yours; but an affront might. "The constable did not serve a whit the less valiantly and brilliantly inthis campaign of Picardy; he surprised and carried the town of Hesdin, which was defended by a strong garrison; but after the victory he treatedwith a generosity which was not perhaps free from calculation theimperialist nobility shut up in the castle; he set all his prisoners atlarge, and paid particular attention to the Countess de Roeux, of thehouse of Croy, whom he knew to have influence with Charles V. He wascertainly not preparing just then to abandon the King of France and goover to the camp of the emperor; but he was sufficiently irritatedagainst Francis I. To gladly seize an opportunity of making new friendson the rival side. 

Meanwhile there occurred the event which was to decide his conduct andhis destiny. His wife, Suzanne of Bourbon, died at Chatellerault, inApril, 1521, after having lost the son whose birth had been celebratedwith such brilliancy at Moulins, and having confirmed by her will thesettlement upon her husband of all her possessions, which had alreadybeen conferred upon him by their marriage contract. From whom came thefirst idea of the proposal to which this death was ere long to lead? Wasit the chancellor, Duprat, who told the mother of Francis I. That thewill and the settlement might be disputed at law, and that she would thenenter into possession of a great part of what belonged to the House ofBourbon? Was it Louise of Savoy herself who conceived the hope ofsatisfying at one and the same time her cupidity and the passion she feltfor the constable, by having an offer made to him of her hand, with theretention secured to him of those great possessions which, otherwise, would be disputed, and which a decree of Parliament might take away fromhim? Between these two explanations of what occurred at that time, thereis no certain choice afforded by historical documents; but the morereasonable conviction is, that the passion of Louise of Savoy was thefirst and the decisive cause of the proposal made to the constable. Hewas then thirty years old; Louise of Savoy was forty-five, but she wasstill beautiful, attractive, and puissant; she had given the constableunmistakable proofs of her inclination for him and of the influence whichhis inclinations exercised over her: she might well flatter herself thathe would be attracted by the prospect of becoming the king's step-fatherand almost a sharer in the kingly power, whilst retaining that of thegreat feudal lord. The chancellor, Duprat, full of ability andservility, put all his knowledge, all his subtlety in argument, and allhis influence in the Parliament at the disposal of Madame Louise, who, asa nearer relative than the constable, claimed the possessions left by hiswife, Suzanne of Bourbon. Francis I. , in the name of the crown, and inrespect of the constable's other possessions, joined his claims to thoseof his mother. Thus the lawsuit with which the duke was threatenedaffected him in every part of his fortune. It was in vain that more orless direct overtures, on behalf of Madame Louise and of the kinghimself, were made to induce him to accept the bargain offered: hisrefusal was expressed and given with an open contempt that verged uponcoarseness. "I will never, " said he, "marry a woman devoid of modesty. "

The lawsuit was begun and prosecuted with all the hatred of a great ladytreated with contempt, and with all the knowingness of an unscrupulouslawyer eager to serve, in point of fact, his patroness, and todemonstrate, in point of law, the thesis he had advanced. Francis I. , volatile, reckless, and ever helpless as he was against the passions ofhis mother, who whilst she adored, beguiled him, readily lent himself tothe humiliation of a vassal who was almost his rival in puissance, andcertainly was in glory. Three lawyers of renown entered upon thestruggle. Poyet maintained the pretensions of the queen-mother; Lizetdeveloped Duprat's argument in favor of the king's claims; Montholondefended the constable. The Parliament granted several adjournments, and the question was in suspense for eleven months. At last, in August, 1523, the court interest was triumphant; Parliament, to get rid of directresponsibility, referred the parties, as to the basis of the question, tothe king's council; but it placed all the constable's possessions undersequestration, withdrawing the enjoyment of them wholly from him. A fewyears afterwards Poyet became chancellor, and Lizet premier-president ofParliament. "Worth alone, " say the historians, "carved out for Montholonat a later period the road to the office of keeper of the seals. "

The constable's fall and ruin were complete. He at an early stage had apresentiment that such would be the issue of his lawsuit, and sought forsafeguards away from France. The affair was causing great stir inEurope. Was it, however, Charles V. Who made the first overtures as themost efficient supporter the constable could have? Or was it theconstable himself who, profiting by the relations he had establishedafter the capture of Hesdin with the Croys, persons of influence with theemperor, made use of them for getting into direct communication withCharles V. , and made offer of his services in exchange for protectionagainst his own king and his own country? In such circumstances and inthe case of such men the sources of crime are always surrounded withobscurity. One is inclined to believe that Charles V. , vigilant andactive as he was, put out the first feelers. As soon as he heard thatBourbon was a widower, he gave instructions to Philibert Naturelli, hisambassador in France, who said, "Sir, you are now in a position to marry, and the emperor, my master, who is very fond of you, has a sistertouching whom I have orders to speak to you if you will be pleased tohearken. " It was to Charles V. 's eldest sister, Eleanor, widow of Manuelthe Fortunate, King of Portugal, that allusion was made. This overtureled to nothing at the time; but the next year, in 1522, war was declaredbetween Francis I. And Charles V. ; the rupture between Francis I. And theDuke of Bourbon took place; the Bourbon lawsuit was begun; and the duke'smother-in-law, Anne of France, daughter of Louis XI. , more concerned forthe fate of her House than for that of her country, and feeling herselfnear her end, said one day to her son-in-law, "My son, reflect that theHouse of Bourbon made alliance with the House of Burgundy, and thatduring that alliance it always prospered. You see at the present momentwhat is the state of our affairs, and the lawsuit in which you areinvolved is proceeded with only for want of alliances. I do beg andcommand you to accept the emperor's alliance. Promise me to use theretoall the diligence you can, and I shall die more easy. " She died on the14th of November, 1522, bequeathing all her possessions to the constable, who was day by day more disposed to follow her counsels. In the summerof 1522, he had, through the agency of Adrian de Croy, Lord of Beaurain, entered into negotiations not only with Charles V. , but also with HenryVIII. , King of England, deploring the ill behavior of Francis I. And theenormity of existing abuses, and proposing to set on foot in his ownpossessions a powerful movement for the reformation of the kingdom andthe relief of the poor people, if the two sovereigns would send "personsof trust and authority into the vicinity of his principality of Dombes, to Bourg-en-Bresse, whither he on his side would send his chancellor tocome to an agreement with them and act in common. " In the month ofMarch, 1523, whilst the foreign negotiations thus commenced and thehome-process against the constable were pursuing a parallel course, Bourbon one day paid a visit to Queen Claude of France at the hour whenshe was dining alone. She was favorably disposed towards him, and wouldhave liked to get him married to her sister Renee, who subsequentlybecame Duchess of Ferrara. She made him sit down. Francis I. , who wasat dinner in an adjacent room, came in. Bourbon rose to take leave. "Nay, keep your seat, " said the king; "and so it is true that you aregoing to be married?" "Not at all, sir. " "O, but I know it; I am sureof it; I know of your dealings with the emperor. And bear well in mindwhat I have to say to you on the subject. " "Sir! is this a threat, pray?I have not deserved such treatment. " After dinner he departed and wentback to his hotel hard by the Louvre; and many gentlemen who happened tobe at court accompanied him by way of escort. He was as yet a powerfulvassal, who was considered to be unjustly persecuted. 

Charles V. Accepted eagerly the overtures made to him by Bourbon inresponse to his own; but, before engaging in action, he wished to becertified about the disposition of Henry VIII. , King of England, and hesent Beaurain to England to take accurate soundings. Henry at firstshowed hesitation. When, Beaurain set before him all the advantages thatwould accrue to their coalition from the Duke of Bourbon's alliance: "AndI, " said the king, brusquely, "what, pray, shall I get?" "Sir, " answeredBeaurain, "you will be King of France. " "Ah!" rejoined Henry, "it willtake a great deal to make M. De Bourbon obey me. " Henry remembered thecold and proud bearing which the constable had maintained towards him atthe Field of Cloth of Gold. He, nevertheless, engaged to supply half theexpenses and a body of troops for the projected invasion of France. Charles V. Immediately despatched Beaurain to the Duke of Bourbon, whohad removed to Montbrison, in the most mountainous part of his domains, on pretext of a pilgrimage to Notre-Dame du Puy. Beaurain was conductedthither, in great secrecy, on the 17th July, 1523, by two of the duke'sgentlemen, and passed two days there shut up in a room adjoining theconstable's apartment, never emerging save at night to transact businesswith him. On the 18th of July, in the evening, he put into Bourbon'shands his letters of credit, running thus: "My dear cousin, I send to youSieur de Beaurain, my second chamberlain. I pray you to consider him asmyself, and, so doing, you will find me ever your good cousin andfriend. " The negotiation was speedy. Many historians have said that itwas confined to verbal conventions, and that there was nothing in writingbetween the two contracting parties. That is a mistake. A treaty wasdrawn up in brief terms by Beaurain's secretary, and two copies weremade, of which one was to be taken to Charles V. And the other to beleft with the Duke of Bourbon. It stipulated the mutual obligations ofthe three contracting parties in their offensive and defensive league. Bourbon engaged to attack Francis I. But he would not promise toacknowledge Henry VIII. As King of France. "I am quite willing to be hisally, " he said, "but his subject, his vassal, no! All I can do is toleave myself, as to my relations towards him, in the emperor's hands. "A strange and noble relic of patriotism in that violent and haughty soul, more concerned for its rights than its duties, and driven to extremity bythe acts of ungrateful and unthoughtful injustice, to which the greatlord and the valiant warrior had been subjected. The treaty having beensigned with this reservation, Bourbon sent, about midnight, forSaint-Bonnet, Lord of Branon, whom he intended to despatch to CharlesV. , and, after having sworn him, "I send you, " said he, "to the emperor, to whom you will say that I commend myself humbly to his good graces, that I beg him to give me his sister in marriage, and that, doing methis honor, he will find me his servant, his good brother, and friend. "

The fatal step was taken. Bourbon was now engaged in revolt against hisking and his country, as well as in falsehood and treason--preliminaryconditions of such a course. He needed tools and accomplices; and thoughhe had a numerous and devoted following, he could not feel sure of themall for such a purpose. The very day after the conclusion of his treatywith Charles V. , one of his most intimate and important confidants, Johnof Poitiers, Lord of St. Vallier, who was present at Montbrison duringthe negotiation of the treaty, said to him in the morning, "Sir, it wasyour wish; I heard all; and I spent the whole night thinking about it;tell me, I pray you, do you feel sure of your friend?" "I was not morefond of the brother I lost at Melegnano, " said the constable; "I shouldnot have felt more sure of him. " "Well, then, " rejoined St. Vallier, "fancy that it is that brother who is speaking to you, and take in goodpart what he is about to say to you. This alliance which is offered toyou will bring upon France the Germans, the Spaniards, and the English;think of the great mischief which will ensue--human bloodshed, destruction of towns, of good families and of churches, violation ofwomen, and other calamities that come of war. Reflect also on the greattreason you are committing; when the king has started for Italy and leftyou in France, putting his trust in you, you will go and stab him in theback, and destroy him as well as his kingdom. You belong to the House ofFrance, and are one of the chief princes of the country, so beloved andesteemed by all that everybody is gladdened at the very sight of you. Ifyou should come to be the cause of so great ruin, you will be the mostaccursed creature that ever was, accursed for a thousand years after yourdeath. For the love of God consider all this; and if you have no regardfor the king and Madame his mother, who, you say, are treating youwrongfully, at least have some regard for the queen and the princes herchildren, and do not wilfully cause the perdition of this kingdom, whoseenemies, when you have let them into it, will drive you out of ityourself. " "But, cousin, " said the constable, quite overcome, "whatwould you have me to do? The king and Madame mean to destroy me; theyhave already taken away a part of my possessions. " "Sir, " repliedSaint-Vallier, "give up, I pray you, all these wicked enterprises; commendyourself to God, and speak frankly to the king. " If we are to believeSaint-Vallier's deposition, when, six months afterwards, he was put onhis trial and convicted for his participation in the plot and treason, the constable was sufficiently affected by his representations to promisethat he would abandon his design and make his peace with the king: butfacts refute this assertion. In the latter months of 1523, thestipulations of the treaty concluded at Montbrison on the 18th of Julywere put into execution by all the contracting parties; letters ofexchange from Henry VIII. Were sent to Bale for the German lanzknechts hewas to pay; the lanzknechts crossed the Rhine on the 26th of August, andmarched through Franche-Comte in spite of its neutrality; the Englishlanded at Calais between the 23d and 30th of August, to co-operate withthe Flemings; the Spaniards began the campaign, on the 6th of September, in the direction of the Pyrenees; and the Duke, of Bourbon on his sidetook all the necessary measures for forming a junction with his allies, and playing that part in the coalition which had been assigned to him. 

According to what appears, he had harbored a design of commencing hisenterprise with a very bold stroke. Being informed that Francis I. Waspreparing to go in person and wage war upon Italy, he had resolved tocarry him off on the road to Lyons, and, when once he had the king in hishands, he flattered himself he would do as he pleased with the kingdom. If his attempt were unsuccessful, be would bide his time until Francis I. Was engaged in Milaness, Charles V. Had entered Guienne, and Henry VIII. Was in Picardy: he would then assemble a thousand men-at-arms, sixthousand foot and twelve thousand lanzknechts, and would make for theAlps to cut the king off from any communication with France. This planrested upon the assumption that the king would, as he had announced, leave the constable in France with an honorable title and an apparentshare in the government of the kingdom, though really isolated anddebarred from action. But Francis had full cognizance of the details ofthe conspiracy through two Norman gentlemen whom the constable hadimprudently tried to get to join in it, and who, not content withrefusing, had revealed the matter at confession to the Bishop of Lisieux, who had lost no time in giving information to Sire de Breze, grandseneschal of Normandy. Breze at once reported it to the king, and hisletter ran: "Sir, there is need also to take care of yourself, for therehas been talk of an attempt to carry you off between here and Lyons, andconduct you to a strong place in the Bourbon district or on the bordersof Auvergne. " Being at last seriously disquieted for the consequences ofhis behavior towards the constable, Francis took two resolutions: onewas, not to leave him in France during his own absence; the other was, to go and see him at Moulins, at the same time taking all necessaryprecautions for his own safety, and win him over once more by announcingan intention of taking him off to Italy and sharing with him the commandof the army. On approaching Moulins the king recalled the lanzknechtswho had already passed the town, entered it himself surrounded by hisguards, and took up his quarters in the castle, of which he seized thekeys. At his first interview with the constable, who was slightlyindisposed and pretended to be very much so, "I know, " said he, "that youare keeping up a connection with the emperor, and that he is trying toturn your discontent to advantage, so as to beguile you; but I have faithin you; you are of the House of France and of the line of Bourbon, whichhas never produced a traitor. " "It is true, sir, " said the constable, without any confusion; "the emperor, informed by public rumor of theposition to which I am reduced, sent Beaurain to offer me an asylum inhis dominions and a fortune suitable to my birth and my rank; but I knowthe value of empty compliments. Hearing that your Majesty was to pass byMoulins, I thought it my duty to wait and disclose this secret to youmyself rather than intrust it to a letter. " The king showed signs ofbeing touched. "I have an idea of taking you away with me to Italy, "said he: "would you come with me willingly?" "Not only to Italy, " wasthe answer, "but to the end of the world. The doctors assure me that Ishall soon be in a condition to bear the motion of a litter; I alreadyfeel better; your Majesty's kindnesses will soon complete my cure. "Francis testified his satisfaction. Some of his advisers, with moredistrust and more prevision, pressed him to order the arrest of sodangerous a man, notwithstanding his protestations; but Francis refused. According to what some historians say, if he had taken off thesequestration laid upon the constable's possessions, actually restoredthem to him, as well as discharged the debts due to him and paid hispensions, and carried him off to Italy, if, in a word, he had shown abold confidence and given back to him at once and forever the whole ofhis position, he would, perhaps, have weaned him from his plot, and wouldhave won back to himself and to France that brave and powerful servant. But Francis wavered between distrust and hope; he confined himself topromising the constable restitution of his possessions if the decree ofParliament was unfavorable to him; he demanded of him a writtenengagement to remain always faithful to him and to join him in Italy assoon as his illness would allow him; and, on taking leave of him, leftwith him one of his own gentlemen, Peter de Brentonniere, Lord of Warthy, with orders to report to the king as to his health. In this officerBourbon saw nothing more or less than a spy, and in the king's promisesnothing but vain words dependent as they were upon the issue of a lawsuitwhich still remained an incubus upon him. He had no answer for words butwords; he undertook the engagements demanded of him by the king withoutconsidering them binding; and he remained ill at Moulins, waiting tillevents should summon him to take action with his foreign allies. 

This state of things lasted far nearly three weeks. The king remainedstationary at Lyons waiting for the constable to join him; and theconstable, saying he was ready to set out and going so far as to actuallybegin his march, was doing his three leagues a day by litter, beingalways worse one day than he was the day before. Peter de Warthy, theofficer whom the king had left with him, kept going and coming from Lyonsto Moulins and from Moulins to Lyons, conveying to the constable theking's complaints and to the king the constable's excuses, withoutbringing the constable to decide upon joining the king at Lyons andaccompanying him into Italy, or the king upon setting out for Italywithout the constable. "I would give a hundred thousand crowns, " theking sent word to Bourbon, "to be in Lombardy. " "The king will do well, "answered Bourbon, "to get there as soon as possible, for despatch isneedful beyond everything. " When Warthy insisted strongly, the constablehad him called up to his bedside; and "I feel myself, " said he, "themost unlucky man in the world not to be able to serve the king; but if Iwere to be obstinate, the doctors who are attending me would not answerfor my life, and I am even worse than the doctors think. I shall neverbe in a condition to do the king service any more. I am going back to mynative air, and, if I recover a day's health, I will go to the king. ""The king will be terribly put out, " said Warthy; and he returned toLyons to report these remarks of the real or pretended invalid. While hewas away, the constable received from England and Spain news which madehim enter actively upon his preparations; he heard at the same time thatthe king was having troops marched towards Bourbonness so as to layviolent hands on him if he did not obey; he, therefore, decided to go andplace himself in security in his strong castle of Chantelle, where hecould await the movements of his allies; he mounted his horse, did sixleagues at one stretch, and did not draw bridle until he had enteredChantelle. Warthy speedily came and rejoined him. He found theconstable sitting on his bed, dressed like an invalid and with his headenveloped in a night-cap. "M. De Warthy, " said Bourbon, "you bring yourspurs pretty close after mine. " "My lord, " was the reply, "you havebetter ones than I thought. " "Think you, " said Bourbon, "that I did notwell, having but a finger's breadth of life, to put it as far out of theway as I could to avoid the king's fury?" "The king, " said Warthy, "wasnever furious towards any man; far less would he be so in your case. ""Nay, nay, " rejoined the constable, "I know that the grand master andMarshal de Chabannes set out from Lyons with the archers of the guard andfour or five thousand lanzknechts to seize me; and that is what made mecome to this house whilst biding my time until the king shall be pleasedto hear me. " He demanded that the troops sent against him should beordered to halt till the morrow, promising not to stir from Chantellewithout a vindication of himself. "Whither would you go, my lord?" saidWarthy: "if you wished to leave the kingdom, you could not; the king hasprovided against that everywhere. "

"Nay, " said Bourbon, "I have no wish to leave the kingdom; I havefriends and servants there. " Warthy went away from Chantelle in companywith the Bishop of Autun, Chiverny, who was one of the constable's mosttrusted friends, and who was bearer to the king of a letter which ranthus: "Provided it please the king to restore to him his possessions, mylord of Bourbon promises to serve him well and heartily, in all placesand at all times at which it shall seem good to him. In witness whereof, he has signed these presents, and begs the king to be pleased to pardonthose towards whom he is ill disposed on account of this business. CHARLES. " In writing this letter the constable had no other object thanto gain a little time, for, on bidding good by to the Bishop of Autun, he said to him, "Farewell, my dear bishop; I am off to Carlat, and fromCarlat I shall slip away with five or six horses on my road to Spain. "On the next day but one, indeed, the 8th of September, 1523, whilst theBishop of Autun was kept prisoner by the troops sent forward toChantelle, the constable sallied from it about one in the morning, takingwith him five-and-twenty or thirty thousand crowns of gold sewn up infrom twelve to fifteen jackets, each of which was intrusted to a man inhis train. For a month he wandered about Bourbonness, Auvergne, Burgundy, Beaujolais, Vienness, Languedoc, and Dauphiny, incessantlychanging his road, his comrades, his costume, and his asylum, occasionally falling in with soldiers of the king who were repairing toItaly, and seeking for some place whence he might safely concert with andact with his allies. At last, in the beginning of October, he arrived atSaint-Claude, in Franche-Comte, imperial territory, and on the 9th ofOctober he made his entry into Besancon, where there came to join himsome of his partisans who from necessity or accident had got separatedfrom him, without his having been able anywhere in his progress to exciteany popular movement, form any collection of troops, or intrench himselfstrongly in his own states. To judge from appearances, he was now but afugitive conspirator, without domains and without an army. 

Such, however, were his fame and importance as a great lord and greatwarrior, that Francis I. , as soon as he knew him to be beyond his reachand in a fair way to co-operate actively with his enemies, put off hisdeparture for Italy, and "offered the redoubtable fugitive immediaterestitution of his possessions, reimbursement from the royal treasury ofwhat was due to him, renewal of his pensions and security that they wouldbe paid him with punctuality. " Bourbon refused everything. "It is toolate, " he replied. Francis I. 's envoy then asked him to give up thesword of constable and the collar of the order of St. Michael. "Youwill tell the king, " rejoined Bourbon, "that he took from me the swordof constable on the day that he took from me the command of theadvance-guard to give it to M. D'Alencon. As for the collar of hisorder, you will find it at Chantelle under the pillow of my bed. "Francis I. , in order to win back Bourbon, had recourse to his sister, theDuchess of Lorraine [Renee de Bourbon, who had married, in 1515, Antony, called the Good, Duke of Lorraine, son of Duke Rend II. And his secondwife, Philippine of Gueldres]: but she was not more successful. Aftersounding him, she wrote to Francis I. That the duke her brother "wasdetermined to go through with his enterprise, and that he proposed todraw off towards Flanders by way of Lorraine with eighteen hundred horseand ten thousand foot, and form a junction with the King of England. "[M. Mignet, _Etude sur le Connetable de Bourbon, in the Revue des DeuxMondes_ of January 15, 1854, and March 15 and April 1, 1858. ]

Under such grave and urgent circumstances, Francis I. Behaved on the onehand with more prudence and efficiency than he had yet displayed, and onthe other with his usual levity and indulgence towards his favorites. Abandoning his expedition in person into Italy, he first concernedhimself for that internal security of his kingdom, which was threatenedon the east and north by the Imperialists and the English, and on thesouth by the Spaniards, all united in considerable force and already inmotion. Francis opposed to them in the east and north the young CountClaude of Guise, the first celebrity amongst his celebrated race, theveteran Louis de La Tremoille, the most tried of all his warriors, andthe Duke of Vendome, head of the younger branch of the House of Bourbon. Into the south he sent Marshal de Lautrec, who was more brave thansuccessful, but of proved fidelity. All these captains acquittedthemselves honorably. Claude of Guise defeated a body of twelve thousandlanzknechts who had already penetrated into Champagne; he hurled themback into Lorraine, and dispersed them beneath the walls of the littletown of Neufchateau, where the princesses and ladies of Lorraine, showingthemselves at the windows, looked on and applauded their discomfiture. La Tremoille's only forces were very inferior to the thirty-five thousandImperialists or English who had entered Picardy; but he managed to makeof his small garrisons such prompt and skilful use that the invaders wereunable to get hold of a single place, and advanced somewhat heedlessly tothe very banks of the Oise, whence the alarm spread rapidly to Paris. The Duke of Vendome, whom the king at once despatched thither with asmall body of men-at-arms, marched night and day to the assistance of theParisians, harangued the Parliament and Hotel de Ville vehemently on theconspiracy of the Constable de Bourbon, and succeeded so well inreassuring them that companies of the city militia eagerly joined histroops, and the foreigners, in dread of finding themselves hemmed in, judged it prudent to fall back, leaving Picardy in a state of equalirritation and devastation. In the south, Lautrec, after having madehead for three days and three nights against the attacks of a Spanisharmy which had crossed the Pyrenees under the orders of the Constable ofCastille, forced it to raise the siege and beat a retreat. Everywhere, in the provinces as well as at the court, the feudal nobility, chieftainsand simple gentlemen, remained faithful to the king; the magistrates andthe people supported the military; it was the whole nation that roseagainst the great lord, who, for his own purposes, was making alliancewith foreigners against the king and the country. 

In respect of Italy, Francis I. Was less wise and less successful. Notonly did he persist in the stereotyped madness of the conquest ofMilaness and the kingdom of Naples, but abandoning for the moment theprosecution of it in person, he intrusted it to his favorite, AdmiralBonnivet, a brave soldier, alternately rash and backward, presumptuousand irresolute, who had already lost credit by the mistakes he hadcommitted and the reverses he had experienced in that arena. At the veryjuncture when Francis I. Confided this difficult charge to Bonnivet, theConstable de Bourbon, having at last got out of France, crossed Germany, repaired to Italy, and halted at Mantua, Piacenza, and Genoa; and, whilstwaiting for a reply from Charles V. , whom he had informed of his arrival, he associated with the leaders of the imperial armies, lived amongst thetroops, inoculated them with his own ardor as well as warlike views, andby his natural superiority regained, amongst the European coalition, theconsideration and authority which had been somewhat diminished by hisill-success in his own country and his flight from it. Charles V. Wassome time about sending an answer; for, in his eyes also, Bourbon hadfallen somewhat. "Was it prudent, " says the historian of Bourbonhimself, "to trust a prince who, though born near the throne, hadbetrayed his own blood and forsworn his own country? Charles V. Might nodoubt have insured his fidelity, had he given him in marriage Eleanor ofAustria, who was already affianced to him; but he could not make up hismind to unite the destiny of a princess, his own sister, with that of aprince whose position was equally pitiable and criminal. At last, however, he decided to name him his lieutenant-general in Italy; but hesurrounded him with so many colleagues and so much surveillance that hehad nothing to fear from his remorse and repentance. " [_Histoire de laMaison de Bourbon, _ t. Ii. P. 531. ] Bourbon, however, though thus placedin a position of perplexity and difficulty, was none the less anadversary with whom Bonnivet was not in a condition to cope. 

It was not long before this was proved by facts. The campaign of 1524 inItaly, brilliant as was its beginning, what with the number and the fineappearance of the troops under Bonnivet's orders, was, as it went on, nothing but a series of hesitations, contradictory movements, blunders, and checks, which the army itself set down to its general's account. Bonnivet, during his investment of Milan, had posted Bayard with a smallcorps in the village of Rebec. "The good knight, who was never wont tomurmur at any commission given him, said, 'Sir Admiral, you would send meto a village hard by the enemy, the which is without any fortress, andwould need four times so many men as I have, for to be in safety and tohold it. ' 'Sir Bayard, ' said the admiral, 'go in peace; on my faith Ipromise you that within three days I will send you plenty of men with youfor to hold Rebec, since I well know that it is not to be held with sofew men; but never you mind; there shall not a mouse get out of Milanwithout you have notice of it. ' And so much did he say of one sort andanother that the good knight, with great disgust, went away with the mentold off to him to his post in Rebec. He wrote many times to the admiralthat he was in very dangerous plight, and that, if he would have themhold out long, he should send him aid; but he got no answer. The enemieswho were inside Milan were warned that the good knight was in Rebec withvery little company; so they decided on a night to go and surprise anddefeat him. And the good knight, who was ever on his guard, set nearlyevery night half his men to watch and to listen, and himself passed twoor three nights at it, in such sort that he fell ill, as much frommelancholy as from cold, and far more than he let it appear; howbeit hewas forced to keep his room that day. When it came on towards night, heordered some captains who were with him to go on the watch. They went, or made show of going; but, because it rained a little, back went allthose who were on the watch, save three or four poor archers, the which, when the Spaniards approached within bow-shot of the village, made noresistance, but took to flight, shouting, 'Alarm alarm!' The goodknight, who in such jeopardy never slept but with his clothes on, rose atonce, had the bridle put on a charger that was already saddled, and wentoff with five or six men-at-arms of his, straight to the barrier whitherincontinently came up Captain Lorges and a certain number of his foot, who bore themselves mighty well. The uproar was great and the alarm washot. Then said the good knight to Captain Lorges, 'Lorges, my friend, this is an unequal sort of game; if they pass this barrier we are cooked. I pray you, retire your men, keep the best order you can, and marchstraight to the camp at Abbiate-Grasso; I, with the horse I have, willremain in the rear. We must leave our baggage to the enemy; there is nohelp for it. Save we the lives if possible. ' . . . The enemy soughton all sides for the good knight, but he had already arrived atAbbiate-Grasso, where he had some unpleasant words with the admiral;howbeit, I will not make any mention of them; but if they had both livedlonger than they did live, they would probably have gone a littlefarther. The good knight was like to die of grief at the mishap thathad befallen him, even though it was not his fault; but in war there ishap and mishap more than in all other things. " [_Histoire du bonChevalier sans Peur et sans Reproche, _ t. Ii. Pp. 120-123. _Les Gesteset la Vie du Chevalier Bayard, _ by Champier, pp. 171-174. ]

The situation of the French army before Milan was now becoming more andmore, not insecure only, but critical. Bonnivet considered it his dutyto abandon it and fall back towards Piedmont, where he reckoned uponfinding a corps of five thousand Swiss who were coming to support theircompatriots engaged in the service of France. Near Romagnano, on thebanks of the Sesia, the retreat was hotly pressed by the imperial army, the command of which had been ultimately given by Charles V. To theConstable de Bourbon, with whom were associated the Viceroy of Naples, Charles de Lannoy, and Ferdinand d'Avalos, Marquis of Pescara, the mostable amongst the Neapolitan officers. On the 30th of April, 1524, somedisorder took place in the retreat of the French; and Bonnivet, beingseverely wounded, had to give up the command to the Count of St. Pol andto Chevalier Bayard. Bayard, last as well as first in the fight, according to his custom, charged at the head of some men-at-arms upon theImperialists, who were pressing the French too closely, when he washimself struck by a shot from an arquebuse, which shattered his reins. "Jesus, my God, " he cried, "I am dead!" He then took his sword by thehandle, and kissed the cross-hilt of it as the sign of the cross, sayingaloud as he did so, "Have pity on me, O God, according to Thy greatmercy" (Miserere mei, Deus, secundum magnam misericordiam tuam);thereupon he became incontinently quite pale, and all but fell; but hestill had heart enough to grasp the pommel of the saddle, and remained inthat condition until a young gentleman, his own house-steward, helped himto dismount and set him down under a tree, with his face to the enemy. The poor gentleman burst into tears, seeing his good master so mortallyhurt that remedy there was none; but the good knight consoled him gently, saying, "Jacques, my friend, leave off thy mourning; it is God's will totake me out of this world; by His grace I have lived long therein, andhave received therein blessings and honors more than my due. All theregret I feel at dying is that I have not done my duty so well as Iought. I pray you, Jacques, my friend, let them not take me up from thisspot, for, when I move, I feel all the pains that one can feel, short ofdeath, which will seize me soon. " The Constable de Bourbon, beinginformed of his wound, came to him, saying, "Bayard, my friend, I am soredistressed at your mishap; there is nothing for it but patience; give notway to melancholy; I will send in quest of the best surgeons in thiscountry, and, by God's help, you will soon be healed. " "My lord, "answered Bayard, "there is no pity for me; I die having done my duty; butI have pity for you, to see you serving against your king, your country, and your oath. " Bourbon withdrew without a word. The Marquis of Pescaracame passing by. "Would to God, gentle Sir Bayard, " said he, "that ithad cost me a quart of my blood, without meeting my death, that I hadbeen doomed not to taste meat for two years, and that I held you safe andsound my prisoner, for by the treatment I showed you, you should haveunderstanding of how much I esteemed the high prowess that was in you. "He ordered his people to rig up a tent over Bayard, and to forbid anynoise near him, so that he might die in peace. Bayard's own gentlemenwould not, at any price, leave him. "I do beseech you, " he said to them, "to get you gone; else you might fall into the enemy's hands, and thatwould profit me nothing, for all is over with me. To God I commend ye, my good friends; and I recommend to you my poor soul; and salute, I prayyou, the king our master, and tell him that I am distressed at being nolonger able to do him service, for I had good will thereto. And to mylords the princes of France, and all my lords my comrades, and generallyto all gentlemen of the most honored realm of France when ye see them. "

[Illustration: The Death of Bayard----76]

"He lived for two or three hours yet. There was brought to him a priest, to whom he confessed, and then he yielded up his soul to God; whereat allthe enemy had mourning incredible. Five days after his death, on the 5thof May, 1524, Beaurain wrote to Charles V. , 'Sir, albeit Sir Bayard wasyour enemy's servant, yet was it pity of his death, for 'twas a gentleknight, well beloved of every one, and one that lived as good a life asever any man of his condition. And in truth he fully showed it by hisend, for it was the most beautiful that I ever heard tell of. ' By thechiefs of the Spanish army certain gentlemen were commissioned to bearhim to the church, where solemn service was done for him during two days. Then, by his own servitors was he carried into Dauphiny, and, on passingthrough the territory of the Duke of Savoy, where the body was rested, hedid it as many honors as if it had been his own brother's. When the newsof his death was known in Dauphiny, I trow that never for a thousandyears died there gentleman of the country mourned in such sort. He wasborne from church to church, at first near Grenoble, where all my lordsof the parliament court of Dauphiny, my lords of the Exchequer, prettywell all the nobles of the country and the greater part of all theburgesses, townsfolk, and villagers came half a league to meet the body:then into the church of Notre-Dame, in the aforesaid Grenoble, where asolemn service was done for him; then to a house of _Minimes, _ which hadbeen founded aforetime by his good uncle the bishop of Grenoble, LaurensAlment; and there he was honorably interred. Then every one withdrew tohis own house; but for a month there was a stop put to festivals dances, banquets, and all other pastimes. 'Las! they had good reason; forgreater loss could not have come upon the country. " [_Histoire du bonChevalier sans Peur et sans Reproche, _ t. Ii. Pp. 125-132. ]

It is a duty and an honor for history to give to such lives and suchdeaths, as remarkable for modesty as for manly worth, the full placewhich they ought to occupy in the memory of mankind. 

The French army continued its retreat under the orders of the Count ofSt. Pol, and re-entered France by way of Suza and Briancon. It wasFrancis I. 's third time of losing Milaness. Charles V. , enchanted at thenews, wrote on the 24th of May to Henry VIII. , "I keep you advertised ofthe good opportunity it has pleased God to offer us of giving a fullaccount of our common enemy. I pray you to carry into effect on yourside that which you and I have for a long while desired, wherein I for mypart will exert myself with all my might. " Bourbon proposed to the twosovereigns a plan well calculated to allure them. He made them an offerto enter France by way of Provence with his victorious army, toconcentrate there all the re-enforcements promised him, to advance up theRhone, making himself master as he went of the only two strong places, Monaco and Marseilles, he would have to encounter, to march on Lyons fromthe side on which that city was defenceless, and be in four months atParis, whether or no he had a great battle to deliver on the march. "Ifthe king wishes to enter France without delay, " said he to Henry VIII. 'sambassador, "I give his Grace leave to pluck out my two-eyes if I am notmaster of Paris before All Saints. Paris taken, all the kingdom ofFrance is in my power. Paris in France is like Milan in Lombardy; ifMilan is taken, the duchy is lost; in the same way, Paris taken, thewhole of France is lost. " By this plan Bourbon calculated on arrivingvictorious at the centre of France, in his own domains, and thereobtaining, from both nobles and people, the co-operation that had failedhim at the outset of his enterprise. The two sovereigns were eager toclose with the proposal of the Frenchman, who was for thus handing overto them his country; a new treaty was concluded between them on the 25thof May, 1524, regulating the conditions and means of carrying out thisgrand campaign; and it was further agreed that Provence and Dauphinyshould be added to the constable's old possessions, and should form astate, which Charles V. Promised to raise to a kingdom. There was yet adifficulty looming ahead. Bourbon still hesitated to formallyacknowledge Henry VIII. As King of France, and promise him allegiance. But at last his resistance was overcome. At the moment of crossing thefrontier into France, and after having taken the communion, he said tothe English ambassador, Sir Richard Pace, in the presence of four of hisgentlemen, "I promise you, on my faith, to place the crown, with the helpof my friends, on the head of our common master. " But, employing a ruseof the old feudal times, the last gasp of a troubled conscience, Bourbon, whilst promising allegiance to Henry VIII. , persisted in refusing to dohim homage. Sir Richard Pace none the less regarded the question asdecided; and, whilst urging Cardinal Wolsey to act swiftly and resolutelyin the interests of their master, he added, "If you do not pay regard tothese matters, I shall set down to your Grace's account the loss of thecrown of France. "

Bourbon entered Provence on the 7th of July, 1524, with an army ofeighteen thousand men, which was to be joined before long by six or seventhousand more. He had no difficulty in occupying Antibes, Frejus, Draguignan, Brignoles, and even Aix; and he already began to assume thetitle of Count of Provence, whilst preparing for a rapid march along bythe Rhone and a rush upon Lyons, the chief aim of the campaign; but theSpanish generals whom Charles V. Had associated with him, and amongstothers the most eminent of them, the Marquis of Pescara, peremptorilyinsisted that, according to their master's order, he should besiege andtake Marseilles. Charles V. Cared more for the coasts of theMediterranean than for those of the Channel; he flattered himself that hewould make of Marseilles a southern Calais, which should connect Germanywith Spain, and secure their communications, political and commercial. Bourbon objected and resisted; it was the abandonment of his general planfor this war and a painful proof how powerless he was against the wishesof the two sovereigns, of whom he was only the tool, although they calledhim their ally. Being forced to yield, he began the siege of Marseilleson the 19th of August. The place, though but slightly fortified and illsupplied, made an energetic resistance; the name and the presence ofBourbon at the head of the besiegers excited patriotism; the burgessesturned soldiers; the cannon of the besiegers laid open their walls, butthey threw up a second line, an earthen rampart, called the ladies'rampart, because all the women in the city had worked at it. The siegewas protracted; the re-enforcements expected by Bourbon did not arrive; ashot from Marseilles penetrated into Pescara's tent, and killed hisalmoner and two of his gentlemen. Bourbon rushed up. "Don't you see?"said Pescara to him, ironically, "here are the keys sent to you by thetimid consuls of Marseilles. " Bourbon resolved to attempt an assault;the lanzknechts and the Italians refused; Bourbon asked Pescara for hisSpaniards, but Pescara would only consent on condition that the breachwas reconnoitered afresh. Seven soldiers were told off for this duty;four were killed and the other three returned wounded, reporting thatbetween the open breach and the intrenchment extended a large ditchfilled with fireworks and defended by several batteries. The assembledgeneral officers looked at one another in silence. "Well, gentlemen, "said Pescara, "you see that the folks of Marseilles keep a table wellspread for our reception; if you like to go and sup in paradise, you areyour own masters so far; as for me, who have no desire to go thither justyet, I am off. But believe me, " he added seriously, "we had best returnto Milaness; we have left that country without a soldier; we mightpossibly find our return cut off. " Whereupon Pescara got up and wentout; and the majority of the officers followed him. Bourbon remainedalmost alone, divided between anger and shame. Almost as he quitted thisscene he heard that Francis I. Was advancing towards Provence with anarmy. The king had suddenly decided to go to the succor of Marseilles, which was making so good a defence. Nothing could be a bitterer pill forBourbon than to retire before Francis I. , whom he had but lately promisedto dethrone; but his position condemned him to suffer everything, withoutallowing him the least hesitation; and on the 28th of September, 1524, heraised the siege of Marseilles and resumed the road to Italy, harassedeven beyond Toulon by the French advance-guard, eager in its pursuit ofthe traitor even more than of the enemy. 

In the course of this year, 1524, whilst Bourbon was wandering as afugitive, trying to escape from his country, then returning to it, aftera few months, as a conqueror, and then leaving it again at the end of afew weeks of prospective triumph, pursued by the king he had betrayed, his case and that of his accomplices had been inquired into and disposedof by the Parliament of Paris, dispassionately and almost coldly, probably because of the small esteem in which the magistrates held thecourt of Francis I. , and of the wrong which they found had been done tothe constable. The Parliament was not excited by a feeling of any greatdanger to the king and the country; it was clear that, at the core, theconspiracy and rebellion were very circumscribed and impotent; and theaccusations brought by the court party or their servants against theconspirators were laughable from their very outrageousness andunlikelihood; according to them, the accomplices of the constable meantnot only to dethrone, and, if need were, kill the king, but "to make piesof the children of France. " Parliament saw no occasion to proceedagainst more than a half score of persons in confinement, and, exceptnineteen defaulters who were condemned to death together withconfiscation of their property, only one capital sentence was pronounced, against John of Poitiers, Lord of Saint-Vallier, the same who had exertedhimself to divert the constable from his plot, but who had neverthelessnot refrained from joining it, and was the most guilty of all theaccomplices in consequence of the confidential post he occupied near theking's person. The decree was not executed, however; Saint-Vallierreceived his reprieve on the scaffold itself. Francis I. Was neitherrancorous nor cruel; and the entreaties, or, according to someevil-speakers of the day, the kind favors, of the Lady de Brew, Saint-Vallier's daughter and subsequently the celebrated Diana ofPoitiers, obtained from the king her father's life. 

Francis I. , greatly vexed, it is said, at the lenity of the Parliament ofParis, summoned commissions chosen amongst the Parliaments of Rouen, Dijon, Toulouse, and Bordeaux, and made them reconsider the case. Theprovincial Parliaments decided as that of Paris had. The procedureagainst the principal culprit was several times suspended and resumedaccording to the course of events, and the decree was not pronounced solong as the Duke of Bourbon lived. It was abroad and in his alliancewith foreign sovereigns that all his importance lay. 

After Bourbon's precipitate retreat, the position of Francis I. Was agood one. He had triumphed over conspiracy and invasion; the conspiracyhad not been catching, and the invasion had failed on all the frontiers. If the king, in security within his kingdom, had confined himself to it, whilst applying himself to the task of governing it well, he would haveobtained all the strength he required to make himself feared and deferredto abroad. For a while he seemed to have entertained this design: on the25th of September, 1523, he published an important ordinance for therepression of disorderliness and outrages on the part of the soldiery inFrance itself; and, on the 28th of December following, a regulation as tothe administration of finances established a control over the variousexchequer-officers, and announced the king's intention of putting somelimits to his personal expenses, "not including, however, " said he, "theordinary run of our little necessities and pleasures. " This singularreservation was the faithful exponent of his character; he was licentiousat home and adventurous abroad, being swayed by his coarse passions andhis warlike fancies. Even far away from Paris, in the heart of theprovinces, the king's irregularities were known and dreaded. In 1524, some few weeks after the death [at Blois, July 20, 1524] of his wife, Queen Claude, daughter of Louis XII. , a virtuous and modest princess moreregretted by the people than by her husband, Francis made his entry intoManosque, in Provence. The burgesses had the keys of their townpresented to him by the most beautiful creature they could find withintheir walls; it was the daughter of Antony Voland, one of themselves. The virtuous young girl was so frightened at the king's glances and thesigns he made to his gentry, evidently alluding to her, that, onreturning home, she got some burning sulphur and placed herself for along while under the influence of its vapor, in order to destroy thebeauty which made her run the risk of being only too pleasing to theking. Francis, who was no great or able captain, could not resist thetemptations of war any more than those of the flesh. When Bourbon andthe imperial army had evacuated Provence, the king loudly proclaimed hispurpose of pursuing them into Italy, and of once more going forth to theconquest of Milaness, and perhaps also of the kingdom of Naples, thatincurable craze of French kings in the sixteenth century. In vain didhis most experienced warriors, La Tremoille and Chabannes, exertthemselves to divert him from such a campaign, for which he was notprepared; in vain did his mother herself write to him, begging him towait and see her, for that she had important matters to impart to him. He answered by sending her the ordinance which conferred upon her theregency during his absence; and, at the end of October, 1524, he hadcrossed the Alps, anxious to go and risk in Milaness the stake he hadjust won in Provence against Charles V. 

Arriving speedily in front of Milan, he there found the imperial armywhich had retired before him; there was a fight in one of the outskirts;but Bourbon recognized the impossibility of maintaining a siege in a townof which the fortifications were in ruins, and with disheartened troops. On the line of march which they had pursued, from Lodi to Milan, therewas nothing to be seen but cuirasses, arquebuses tossed hither andthither, dead horses, and men dying of fatigue and scarcely able to dragthemselves along. Bourbon evacuated Milan, and, taking a resolution asbold as it was singular, abruptly abandoned, so far as he was personallyconcerned, that defeated and disorganized army, to go and seek for andreorganize another at a distance. Being informed that Charles III. , Dukeof Savoy, hitherto favorable to France, was secretly inclining towardsthe emperor, he went to Turin, made a great impression by his confidenceand his grand spirit in the midst of misfortune upon both the duke andhis wife, Beatrix of Portugal, and obtained from them not only aflattering reception, but a secret gift of their money and their jewelry;and, equipped with these resources, he passed into Germany to recruitsoldiers there. The lanzknechts, who had formerly served under him inFrance, rushed to him in shoals; he had received from nature the giftsmost calculated to gain the hearts of campaigners: kind, accessible, affable and even familiar with the common soldier, he entered into thedetails of his wants and alleviated them. His famous bravery, hisfrankness, and his generosity gained over those adventurers who wereweary of remaining idle; their affection consoled Bourbon and stood himin stead of all: his army became his family and his camp his country. Proscribed and condemned in France, without any position secured to himin the dominions of Charles V. , envied and crossed by that prince'sgenerals, he had found full need of all the strong tempering of hischaracter and of his warlike genius to keep him from giving way under somany trials. He was beginning to feel himself near recovery: he had anarmy, an army of his own; he had chosen for it men inured to labor andfatigue, accustomed to strict discipline; and thereto he added fivehundred horsemen from Franche-Comte for whose devotion and courage hecould answer: and he gave the second command in this army to George ofFreundsberg, an old captain of lanzknechts and commandant of theemperor's guard, the same who, three years before, on seeing Lutherboldly enter Worms, said to him, with a slap on the shoulder, "Littlemonk, this is a daring step thou art going to take! Nor I, nor anycaptain of us, ever did the like. If thy cause is good, and if thou havefaith in thy cause, forward! little monk, in God's name forward!" Withsuch comrades about him, Bourbon re-entered Milaness at the head oftwelve or thirteen thousand fighting men, three months after having leftit, alone and moneyless. His rivals about the person of Charles V. , Lannoy, Viceroy of Naples, and the Marquis of Pescara, could not helpadmiring him, and he regained in the imperial camp an ascendency whichhad but lately been very much shaken. 

He found the fresh campaign begun in earnest. Francis I. 's veterangenerals, Marshals La Tremoille and Chabannes, had advised him to pursuewithout pause the beaten and disorganized imperial army, which was insuch plight that there was placarded on the statue of Pasquin at Rome, "Lost--an army--in the mountains of Genoa; if anybody knows what hasbecome of it, let him come forward and say: he shall be well rewarded. "If the King of France, it was said, drove back northward and forced intothe Venetian dominions the remnants of this army, the Spaniards would notbe able to hold their own in Milaness, and would have to retire withinthe kingdom of Naples. But Admiral Bonnivet, "whose counsel the kingmade use of more than of any other, " says Du Bellay, pressed Francis I. To make himself master, before everything, of the principal strong placesin Lombardy, especially of Pavia, the second city in the duchy of Milan. Francis followed this counsel, and on the 26th of August, 1524, twentydays after setting out from Aix in Provence, he appeared with his army infront of Pavia. On learning this resolution, Pescara joyously exclaimed, "We were vanquished; a little while and we shall be vanquishers. " Paviahad for governor a Spanish veteran, Antony de Leyva, who haddistinguished himself at the battle of Ravenna, in 1512, by his vigilanceand indomitable tenacity: and he held out for nearly four months, firstagainst assaults, and then against investment by the French army. Francis I. And his generals occasionally proceeded during this siege toseverities condemned by the laws and usages of war. A small Spanishgarrison had obstinately defended a tower situated at the entrance of astone bridge which led from an island on the Ticino into Pavia. Marshalde Montmorency at last carried the tower, and had all the defendershanged "for having dared, " he said, "to offer resistance to an army ofthe king's in such a pigeon-hole. " Antony de Leyva had the bridgeforthwith broken down, and De Montmorency was stopped on the borders ofthe Ticino. In spite of the losses of its garrison in assaults andsorties, and in spite of the sufferings of the inhabitants from famineand from lack of resources of all sorts, Pavia continued to hold out. There was a want of wood as well as of bread; and they knocked the housesto pieces for fuel. Antony de Leyva caused to be melted down the vesselsof the churches and the silvern chandeliers of the university, and even amagnificent chain of gold which he habitually wore round his neck. Hefeared he would have to give in at last, for want of victuals andammunition, when, towards the end of January, 1525, he saw appearing, onthe northern side, the flags of the imperial army: it was Bourbon, Lannoy, and Pescara, who were coming up with twenty thousand foot, sevenhundred men-at-arms, a troop of Spanish arquebusiers, and several piecesof cannon. Bourbon, whilst on the march, had written, on the 5th ofJanuary, to Henry VIII. , and, after telling him what he meant to do, hadadded, "I know through one of my servants that the French have said thatI retired from Provence shamefully. I remained there a space of threemonths and eight days, waiting for battle. I hope to give the world toknow that I have no fear of King Francis, for, please God, we shall placeourselves so close together that we shall have great trouble to getdisentangled without battle, and I shall so do that neither he nor theywho have held such talk about me shall say that I was afraid of beingthere. " The situation was from that moment changed. The French armyfound themselves squeezed between the fortress which would not surrenderand the imperial army which was coming to relieve it. Things, however, remained stationary for three weeks. Francis I. Intrenched himselfstrongly in his camp, which the Imperialists could not attack withoutgreat risk of unsuccess. "Pavia is doomed to fall, " wrote Francis to hismother the regent on the 3d of February, "if they do not reenforce itsomehow; and they are beating about to make it hold on to the last gasp, which, I think, will not be long now, for it is more than a month sincethose inside have had no wine to drink and neither meat nor cheese toeat; they are short of powder even. " Antony de Leyva gave notice to theImperialists that the town was not in a condition for further resistance. On the other hand, if the imperial army put off fighting, they could nothelp breaking up; they had exhausted their victuals, and the leaderstheir money; they were keeping the field without receiving pay, and weresubsisting, so to speak, without resources. The prudent Marquis ofPescara himself was for bringing on a battle, which was indispensable. "A hundred years in the field, " said he, in the words of an old Italianproverb, "are better than one day of fighting, for one may lose in adoubtful melley what one was certain of winning by skilful manoeuvres;but when one can no longer keep the field, one must risk a battle, so asnot to give the enemy the victory without a fight. " The same questionwas being discussed in the French camp. The veteran captains, LaTremoille and Chabannes, were of opinion that by remaining in the strongposition in which they were encamped they would conquer without fighting. Bonnivet and De Montmorency were of the contrary opinion. "We French, "said Bonnivet, "have not been wont to make war by means of militaryartifices, but handsomely and openly, especially when we have at our heada valiant king, who is enough to make the veriest dastards fight. Ourkings bring victory with them, as our little king Charles VIII. Did atthe Taro, our king Louis XII. At Agnadello, and our king who is herepresent at Melegnano. " Francis I. Was not the man to hold out againstsuch sentiments and such precedents; and he decided to accept battle assoon as it should be offered him. The imperial leaders, at a councilheld on the 23d of February, determined to offer it next day. Bourbonvigorously supported the opinion of Pescara. 

Antony de Leyva was notified the same evening of their decision, and wasinvited to make, as soon as he heard two cannon-shots, a sortie whichwould place the French army between two fires. Pescara, according to hiscustom, mustered the Spaniards; and, "My lads, " said he, "fortune hasbrought you to such extremity that on the soil of Italy you have for yourown only that which is under your feet. All the emperor's might couldnot procure for you to-morrow morning one morsel of bread. We know notwhere to get it, save in the Frenchman's camp, which is before your eyes. There they have abundance of everything, bread, meat, trout and carp fromthe Lake of Garda. And so, my lads, if you are set upon having anythingto eat tomorrow, march we down on the Frenchmen's camp. " Freundsbergspoke in the same style to the German lanzknechts. And both wereresponded to with cheers. Eloquence is mighty powerful when it speaks inthe name of necessity. 

The two armies were of pretty equal strength: they had each from twentyto five and twenty thousand infantry, French, Germans, Spaniards, lanzknechts, and Swiss. Francis I. Had the advantage in artillery and inheavy cavalry, called at that time the gendarmerie, that is to say, thecorps of men-at-arms in heavy armor with their servants; but his troopswere inferior in effectives to the Imperialists, and Charles V. 's twogenerals, Bourbon and Pescara, were, as men of war, far superior toFrancis I. And his favorite Bonnivet. In the night between the 23d and24th of February they opened a breach of forty or fifty fathoms in thewall around the park of Mirabello, where the French camp was situated; acorps immediately passed through it, marching on Pavia to re-enforce thegarrison, and the main body of the imperial army entered the park tooffer the French battle on that ground. The king at once set his army inmotion; and his well-posted artillery mowed down the corps of Germans andSpaniards who had entered the park. "You could see nothing, " says awitness of the battle, "but heads and arms flying about. " The actionseemed to be going ill for the Imperialists; Pescara urged the Duke ofBourbon and Lannoy, the Viceroy of Naples, to make haste and come up;Lannoy made the sign of the cross, and said to his men, "There is no hopebut in God; follow me and do every one as I do. " Francis I. , on hisside, advanced with the pick of his men-at-arms, burst on theadvance-guard of the enemy, broke it, killed with his own hand theMarquis of Civita-San-Angelo, and dispersed the various corps he found inhis way. In the confidence of his joy he thought the victory decided, and, turning to Marshal de Foix, who was with him, "M. De Lescun, " saidhe, "now am I fain to call myself Duke of Milan. " But Bourbon andPescara were not the men to accept a defeat so soon; they united alltheir forces, and resumed the offensive at all points; the Frenchbatteries, masked by an ill-considered movement on the part of their owntroops, who threw themselves between them and the enemy, lost allserviceability; and Pescara launched upon the French gendarmerie fifteenhundred Basque arquebusiers, whom he had exercised and drilled topenetrate into the midst of the horses, shoot both horses and riders, andfall back rapidly after having discharged their pieces. Being attackedby the German lanzknechts of Bourbon and Freundsberg, the Swiss in theFrench service did not maintain their renown, and began to give way. "MyGod, what is all this!" cried Francis I. , seeing them waver, and hedashed towards them to lead them back into action; but neither hisefforts, nor those of John of Diesbach and the Lord of Fleuranges, whowere their commanders, were attended with success. The king was onlythe more eager for the fray; and, rallying around him all those of hismen-at-arms who would neither recoil nor surrender, he charged theImperialists furiously, throwing himself into the thickest of the melley, and seeking in excess of peril some chance of victory; but Pescara, though wounded in three places, was none the less stubbornly fighting on, and Antony de Leyva, governor of Pavia, came with the greater part of thegarrison to his aid. At this very moment Francis I. Heard that thefirst prince of the blood, his brother-in-law the Duke of Alencon, whocommanded the rear-guard, had precipitately left the field of battle. The oldest and most glorious warriors of France, La Tremoille, Marshal deChabannes, Marshal de Foix, the grand equerry San Severino, the Duke ofSuffolk, Francis of Lorraine, Chaumont, Bussy d'Amboise, and Francis deDuras fell, here and there, mortally wounded. At this sight AdmiralBonnivet in despair exclaimed, "I can never survive this fearful havoc;"and raising the visor of his helmet, he rushed to meet the shots whichwere aimed at him, and in his turn fell beside his comrades in arms. Bourbon had expressly charged his men to search everywhere in the melleyfor the admiral, and bring him in a prisoner. When, as he passed alongthat part of the battle-field, he recognized the corpse, "Ah! wretch, " hecried, as he moved away, "it is thou who hast caused the ruin of Franceand of me!" Amidst these dead and dying, Francis still fought on;wounded as he was in the face, the arms, and the legs, he struck rightand left with his huge sword, and cut down the nearest of his assailants;but his horse, mortally wounded, dragged him down as it fell; he was upagain in an instant, and, standing beside his horse, he laid low two moreSpaniards who were pressing him closely; the ruck of the soldiers crowdedabout him; they did not know him, but his stature, his strength, hisbravery, his coat of mail studded with golden lilies, and his helmetovershadowed by a thick plume of feathers pointed him out to all as thefinest capture to make; his danger was increasing every minute, when oneof Bourbon's most intimate confidants, the Lord of Pomperant, who, in1523, had accompanied the constable in his flight through France, came upat this critical moment, recognized the king, and, beating off thesoldiers with his sword, ranged himself at the king's side, representedto-him the necessity of yielding, and pressed him to surrender to theDuke of Bourbon, who was not far off. "No, " said the king, "rather diethan pledge my faith to a traitor where is the Viceroy of Naples?" Ittook some time to find Lannoy; but at last he arrived and put one knee onthe ground before Francis I. , who handed his sword to him. Lannoy tookit with marks of the most profound respect, and immediately gave himanother. The battle was over, and Francis I. Was Charles V. 's prisoner. 

[Illustration: Capture of Francis I. ----91]

He had shown himself an imprudent and unskilful general, but at the sametime a hero. His conquerors, both officers and privates, could not help, whilst they secured his person, showing their admiration for him. Whenhe sat down to table, after having had his wounds, which were slight, attended to, Bourbon approached him respectfully and presented him with adinner-napkin; and the king took it without embarrassment and with frigidand curt politeness. He next day granted him an interview, at which anaccommodation took place with due formalities on both sides, but nothingmore. All the king's regard was for the Marquis of Pescara, who came tosee him in a simple suit of black, in order, as it were, to share hisdistress. "He was a perfect gentleman, " said Francis I. , "both in peaceand in war. " He heaped upon him marks of esteem and almost ofconfidence. "How do you think, " he asked, "the emperor will behave tome?" "I think, " replied Pescara, "I can answer for the emperor'smoderation; I am sure that he will make a generous use of his victory. If, however, he were capable of forgetting what is due to your rank, yourmerits, and your misfortunes, I would never cease to remind him of it, and I would lose what little claim upon him my services may have givenme, or you should be satisfied with his behavior. " The king embraced himwarmly. He asked to be excused from entering Pavia, that he might not bea gazing-stock in a town that he had so nearly taken. He was, accordingly, conducted to Pizzighittone, a little fortress between Milanand Cremona. He wrote thence two letters, one to his mother the regentand the other to Charles V. , which are here given word for word, becausethey so well depict his character and the state of his mind in his hourof calamity:--

 1. "To the Regent of France: Madame, that you may know how stands the rest of my misfortune: there is nothing in the world left to me but honor and my life, which is safe. And in order that, in your adversity, this news might bring you some little comfort, I prayed for permission to write you this letter, which was readily granted me; entreating you, in the exercise of your accustomed prudence, to be pleased not to do anything rash, for I have hope, after all, that God will not forsake me. Commending to you my children your grandchildren, and entreating you to give the bearer a free passage, going and returning, to Spain, for he is going to the emperor to learn how it is his pleasure that I should be treated. "

 2. "To the Emperor Charles V. : If liberty had been sooner granted me by my cousin the viceroy, I should not have delayed so long to do my duty towards you, according as the time and the circumstances in which I am placed require; having no other comfort under my misfortune than a reliance on your goodness, which, if it so please, shall employ the results of victory with honorableness towards me; having steadfast hope that your virtue would not willingly constrain me to anything that was not honorable; entreating you to consult your own heart as to what you shall be pleased to do with me; feeling sure that the will of a prince such as you are cannot be coupled with aught but honor and magnanimity. Wherefore, if it please you to have so much honorable pity as to answer for the safety which a captive King of France deserves to find, whom there is a desire to render friendly and not desperate, you may be sure of obtaining an acquisition instead of a useless prisoner, and of making a King of France your slave forever. "

The former of these two letters has had its native hue somewhat alteredin the majority of histories, in which it has been compressed into thoseeloquent words, "All is lost save honor. " The second needs no comment tomake apparent what it lacks of kingly pride and personal dignity. Beneath the warrior's heroism there was in the qualities of Francis I. More of what is outwardly brilliant and winning than of real strength andsolidity. 

But the warrior's heroism, in conjunction with what is outwardlybrilliant and winning in the man, exercises a great influence overpeople. The Viceroy of Naples perceived and grew anxious at thepopularity of which Francis I. Was the object at Pizzighittone. Thelanzknechts took an open interest in him and his fortunes; the Italiansfixed their eyes on him; and Bourbon, being reconciled to him, mightmeditate carrying him off. Lannoy resolved to send him to Naples, wherethere would be more certainty of guarding him securely. Francis made noobjection to this design. On the 12th of May, 1525, he wrote to hismother, "Madame, the bearer has assured me that he will bring you thisletter safely; and, as I have but little time, I will tell you nothingmore than I shall be off to Naples on Monday--, and so keep a lookout atsea, for we shall have only fourteen galleys to take us and eighteenhundred Spaniards to man them; but those will be all their arquebusiers. Above all, haste: for, if that is made, I am in hopes that you may soonsee your most humble and most obedient son. " There was no opportunityfor even attempting to carry off the king as he went by sea to Naples;instead of taking him to Naples, Lannoy transported him straight toSpain, with the full assent of the king and the regent themselves, for itwas in French galleys manned by Spanish troops that the voyage was made. Instead of awaiting the result of such doubtful chances of deliverance asmight occur in Italy, Francis I. , his mother, and his sister Margaret, entertained the idea that what was of the utmost importance for him wasto confer and treat in person with Charles V. , which could not be donesave in Spain itself. In vain did Bourbon and Pescara, whose wholeinfluence and ambitious hopes lay in Italy, and who, on that stage, regarded Francis I. As their own prisoner rather than Charles V. 's, exertthemselves to combat this proposal; the Viceroy of Naples, in concert, nodoubt, with Charles V. Himself as well as with Francis I. And hismother, took no heed of their opposition; and Francis I. , disembarking atthe end of June at Barcelona first and then at Valentia, sent, on the 2dof July, to Charles V. The Duke de Montmorency, with orders to say thathe had desired to approach the emperor, "not only to obtain peace anddeliverance in his own person, but also to establish and confirm Italy inthe state and fact of devotion to the emperor, before that the potentatesand lords of Italy should have leisure to rally together in opposition. "The regent, his mother, and his sister Margaret congratulated himheartily on his arrival in Spain, and Charles V. Himself wrote to him, "It was a pleasure to me to hear of your arrival over here, because that, just now, it will be the cause of a happy general peace for the greatgood of Christendom, which is what I most desire. "

It is difficult to understand how Francis I. And Charles V. Could relyupon personal interviews and negotiations for putting an end to theircontentions and establishing a general peace. Each knew the other'spretensions, and they knew how little disposed they were, either of them, to abandon them. On the 28th of March, 1525, a month after the battle ofPavia, Charles V. Had given his ambassadors instructions as to treatingfor the ransom and liberation of the King of France. His chiefrequirements were, that Francis I. Should renounce all attempts atconquest in Italy, that he should give up the suzerainty of thecountships of Flanders and Artois, that he should surrender to Charles V. The duchy of Burgundy with all its dependencies, as derived from Mary ofBurgundy, daughter of the last duke, Charles the Rash; that the Duke ofBourbon should be reinstated in possession of all his domains, with theaddition thereto of Provence and Dauphiny, which should form anindependent state; and, lastly, that France should pay England all thesums of money which Austria owed her. Francis I. , on hearing, atPizzighittone, these proposals read out, suddenly drew his sword as if tostab himself, saying, "It were better for a king to end thus. " Hiscustodian, Alancon, seized his arm, whilst recalling him to his senses. Francis recovered calmness, but without changing his resolution; he wouldrather, he said, bury himself in a prison forever than subscribe toconditions destructive of his kingdom, and such as the States General ofFrance would never accept. When Francis I. Was removed to Spain he hadmade only secondary concessions as to these requirements of Charles V. , and Charles V. Had not abandoned any one of his original requirements. Marshal de Montmorency, when sent by the king to the emperor on the 2d ofJuly, 1525, did not enter at all into the actual kernel of thenegotiation; after some conventional protestations of a pacific kind, heconfined himself to demanding "a safe conduct for Madame Marguerite ofFrance, the king's only sister, Duchess of Alencon and Berry, who wouldbring with her such and so full powers of treating for peace, theliberation of the king, and friendly alliance to secure the said peace, that the emperor would clearly see that the king's intentions were pureand genuine, and that he would be glad to conclude and decide in a monthwhat might otherwise drag on for a long while to the great detriment oftheir subjects. " The marshal was at the same time to propose theconclusion of a truce during the course of the negotiations. 

Amongst the letters at that time addressed to Francis I. , a prisoner ofwar, is the following, dated March, 1525, when he was still in Italy:--

 "My lord, the joy we are still feeling at the kind letters which you were pleased to write yesterday to me and to your mother, makes us so happy with the assurance of your health, on which our life depends, that it seems to me that we ought to think of nothing but of praising God and desiring a continuance of your good news, which is the best meat we can have to live on. And inasmuch as the Creator bath given us grace that our trinity should be always united, the other two do entreat you that this letter, presented to you, who are the third, may be accepted with the same affection with which it is cordially offered you by your most humble and most obedient servants, your mother and sister-- LOUISE, MARGUERITE. "

This close and tender union of the three continued through allseparations and all trials; the confidence of the captive king wasresponsive to the devotion of his mother the regent and of his sister whohad become his negotiatrix. When the news came of the king's captivity, the regency threatened for a moment to become difficult and stormy; allthe ambition and the hatred that lay dormant in the court awoke; anattempt was made to excite in the Duke of Vendome, the head of theyounger branch of the House of Bourbon, a desire to take the regent'splace; the Parliament of Paris attacked the chancellor, Duprat, whom theyhated--not without a cause; but the Duke of Vendome was proof against theattempts which were made upon him, and frankly supported the regent, who made him the chief of her council; and the regent supported thechancellor. She displayed, in these court-contentions, an abilitypartaking both of firmness and pliancy. The difficulties of foreignpolicy found her equally active and prudent. The greatest peril whichFrance could at that time incur arose from the maintenance of the unionbetween the King of England and Charles V. At the first news of thebattle of Pavia, Henry VIII. Dreamed for a moment of the partition ofFrance between Charles and himself, with the crown of France for his ownshare; demonstrations of joy took place at the court of London; andattempts were made to levy, without the concurrence of Parliament, imposts capable of sufficing for such an enterprise. But the Englishnation felt no inclination to put up with this burden and the king'sarbitrary power in order to begin over again the Hundred Years' War. The primate, Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, wrote to Cardinal Wolsey, "It is reported to me that when the people had orders to make bonfiresfor the capture of the King of France, many folks said that it was morereason for weeping than for rejoicing. Others openly expressed theirdesire that the King of France might be set at liberty, that a happypeace might be concluded, and that the king might not attempt to conquerFrance again, a conquest more burdensome than profitable, and moredifficult to keep than to make. " Wolsey himself was cooled towardsCharles V. , who, instead of writing to him as of old, and signing withhis own hand, "your son and cousin, " now merely put his name, Charles. The regent, Louise of Savoy, profited ably by these feelings andcircumstances in England; a negotiation was opened between the twocourts; Henry VIII. Gained by it two millions of crowns payable by annualinstalments of fifty thousand crowns each, and Wolsey received a pensionof a hundred thousand crowns. At first a truce for four months, and thenan alliance, offensive and defensive, were concluded on the 30th ofAugust, 1525, between France and England; and the regent, Louise ofSavoy, had no longer to trouble herself about anything except thecaptivity of the king her son and the departure of her daughter Margaretto go and negotiate for the liberation of the prisoner. 

The negotiation had been commenced, as early as the 20th of July, atToledo, between the ambassadors of Francis I. And the advisers of CharlesV. , but without any symptom of progress. Francis I. , since his arrivalin Spain, had been taken from strong castle to strong castle, and thenremoved to Madrid, everywhere strictly guarded, and leading a sad life, without Charles V. 's coming to visit him or appointing him anymeeting-place. In vain did the emperor's confessor, the Bishop of Osma, advise him to treat Francis I. Generously, and so lay upon him either theobligation of thankfulness or the burden of ingratitude; the majority ofhis servants gave him contrary counsel. "I know not what you mean todo, " wrote his brother, the Archduke Ferdinand; "but, if I were wiseenough to know how to give you good counsel, it seems to me that such anopportunity should not be lost, but that you should follow up your goodfortune and act in such wise that neither the King of France nor hissuccessors should have power hereafter to do harm to you or yours. "That, too, was Charles V. 's own way of thinking; but, slow and patientas he was by nature, he relied upon the discomforts and the wearisomenessof prolonged captivity and indecision for tiring out Francis I. Andovercoming his resistance to the harsh conditions he would impose uponhim. The regent, Louise, made him an offer to go herself and treat withhim, at Perpignan, for the king's liberation; but he did not accept thatoverture. The Duke of Alencon, son-in-law of Louise, had died at Lyons, unable to survive the shame of his flight at the battle of Pavia; and theregent hinted that her daughter Marguerite, three months a widow, "wouldbe happy if she could be agreeable to his Imperial Majesty, " but Charleslet the hint drop without a reply. However, at the end of August, 1525, he heard that Francis I. Was ill: "from great melancholy he had falleninto a violent fever. " The population of Madrid was in commotion;Francis I. Had become popular there; many people went to pray for him inthe churches; the doctors told the emperor that there was fear for theinvalid's life, and that he alone could alleviate the malady byadministering some hope. Charles V. At once granted the safe-conductwhich had been demanded of him for Marguerite of France, and on the 18thof September he himself went to Madrid to pay a visit to the captive. Francis, on seeing him enter the chamber, said, "So your Majesty has cometo see your prisoner die?" "You are not my prisoner, " answered Charles, "but my brother and my friend: I have no other purpose than to give youyour liberty and every satisfaction you can desire. " Next day Margueritearrived; her mother, the regent, had accompanied her as far asPont-Saint-Esprit; she had embarked, on the 27th of August, atAigues-Mortes, and, disembarking at Barcelona, had gone to Madrid bylitter; in order to somewhat assuage her impatience she had givenexpression to it in the following tender stanzas:

 "For the bliss that awaits me so strong Is my yearning that yearning is pain; One hour is a hundred years long; My litter, it bears me in vain; It moves not, or seems to recede; Such speed would I make if I might: O, the road, it is weary indeed, Where lies--at the end--my delight!

 "I gaze all around me all day For some one with tidings to bring, Not ceasing--ne'er doubt me--to pray Unto God for the health of my king I gaze; and when none is descried, Then I weep; and, what else? if you ask, To my paper my grief I confide This, this is my sorrowful task. 

 "O, welcome be he who at length Shall tap at my door and shall cry, 'The king to new health and new strength Is returning; the king will not die!' Then she, who were now better dead, Will run, the news-bearer to see, And kiss him for what he hath said, That her brother from danger is free. "

Francis was not "free from danger" when his sister arrived; she took herpost at his side; on the 25th of September a serious crisis came on; andhe remained for some time "without speaking, or hearing, or seeing. "Marguerite had an altar set up in her chamber; and all the French, of thehousehold, great lords and domestics, knelt beside the sick man's sister, and received the communion from the, hands of the Archbishop of Embrun, who, drawing near the bed, entreated the king to turn his eyes to theholy sacrament. Francis came out of his lethargy, and asked tocommunicate likewise, saying, "God will cure me, soul and body. " Hebecame convalescent, and on the 20th of October he was sufficientlyrecovered for Marguerite to leave Madrid, and go and resume negotiationsat Toledo, whither Charles V. Had returned. 

The day but one after her arrival she wrote to the king, "The emperorgave me courteous and kind reception, and, after coming to meet me at theentrance of this house, he used very kind and courteous language to me. He desired that he and I should be alone in the same room, and one of mywomen to keep the door. This evening I will send you word of what hasbeen done; entreating you, my lord, to put on before Sieur Alancon (theking's custodian) an air of weakness and weariness, for your debilitywill strengthen me and will hasten my despatch, which seems to me slowerthan I can tell you; as well for the sake of seeing you liberated, whichyou will be by God's help, as of returning and trying whether your dearhand can be of any use to you. " Marguerite was impressed by thegood-will she discovered at the court of Toledo in respect of the King ofFrance, his liberation, and the establishment of peace; she received fromthe people in the streets, as well as from the great lords in theirhouses, the most significant proofs of favor. Charles V. Took umbrage atit, and had the Duke of Infantado, amongst others, informed that, if hewished to please the emperor, neither he nor his sons must speak toMadame d'Alencon. "But, " said she, "I am not tabooed to the ladies, towhom I will speak double. " She contracted a real intimacy with even thesister of Charles V. , Eleanor, widow of the King of Portugal, whomCharles had promised to the Duke of Bourbon, and between whom and herbrother, King Francis, Marguerite set brewing a marriage, which was notlong deferred. But, in spite of her successes at the court, and even inthe family of the emperor, Marguerite had no illusions touching the smallchance of bringing her grand object of negotiation to a happy issue. "Every one tells me, " she wrote, "that he loves the king; but there issmall experience of it. . . . If I had to do with good sort ofpeople, who understand what honor is, I would not care; but the contraryis the case. " She did not lose courage, however: "she spoke to theemperor so bravely and courteously, " says Brantome, "that he was quiteastounded, and she said still worse to those of his council, at whichshe had audience; there she had full triumph of her good speaking andharanguing, with an easy grace in which she was not deficient; and shedid so well with her fine speaking that she made herself rather agreeablethan hateful or tiresome, that her reasons were found good and pertinent, and that she remained in high esteem with the emperor, his council, andhis court. "

But neither good and pertinent reasons, nor the charm of eloquence in themouth of a pleasing and able woman, are sufficient to make head againstthe passions and interests of the actors who are at a given moment inpossession of the political arena; it needs time, a great deal of time, before the unjust or unreasonable requirements and determinations of apeople, a generation, and the chief of a state become acknowledged assuch and abandoned. At the negotiations entered upon, in 1525, betweenFrancis I. And Charles V. , Francis I. Was prompt in making large andunpalatable concessions: he renounced his pretensions, so far as Italywas concerned, to the duchy of Milan, to Genoa, and to the kingdom ofNaples; his suzerainty over the countships of Flanders and Artois, andpossession of Hesdin and Tournay; he consented to reinstate Duke Charlesof Bourbon in all his hereditary property and rights, and to pay threemillions of crowns in gold for his own ransom; but he refused to cedeProvence and Dauphiny to the Duke of Bourbon as an independent state, and to hand over the duchy of Burgundy to Charles V. , as heir of hisgrandmother, Mary of Burgundy, only daughter of Charles the Rash. Charles V. , after somewhat lukewarmly persisting, gave up the demand hehad made on behalf of the Duke of Bourbon, for having Provence andDauphiny erected into an independent state; but he insisted absolutely, on his own behalf, in his claim to the duchy of Burgundy as a right and acondition, sine qua non, of peace. The question at the bottom of thenegotiations between the two sovereigns lay thus: the acquisition ofBurgundy was for Charles V. The crowning-point of his victory and of hispredominance in Europe; the giving up of Burgundy was for Francis I. Alasting proof of his defeat and a dismemberment of his kingdom: one wouldnot let his prisoner go at any price but this, the other would notpurchase at this price even his liberty and his restoration to hisfriends. In this extremity Francis I. Took an honorable and nobleresolution; in October, 1525, he wrote to Charles V. , "Sir, my brother, I have heard from the Archbishop of Embrun and my premier-president atParis of the decision you have expressed to them as to my liberation, andI am sorry that what you demand of me is not in my power. But feelingthat you could not take a better way of telling me that you mean to keepme prisoner forever than by demanding of me what is impossible on mypart, I have made up my mind to put up with imprisonment, being sure thatGod, who knows that I have not deserved a long one, being a prisoner offair war, will give me strength to bear it patiently. And I can onlyregret that your courteous words, which you were pleased to address to mein my illness, should have come to nothing. " [_Documents inedits surl'Histoire de France. Captivite du roi Francois I. _, p. 384. ]

The resolution announced in this letter led before long to the officialact which was certain to be the consequence of it. In November, 1525, byformal letters patent, Francis I. , abdicating the kingship which he couldnot exercise, ordered that his eldest son, the dauphin Francis, theneight years old, should be declared, crowned, anointed, and consecratedMost Christian King of France, and that his grandmother, Louise of Savoy, Duchess of Angouleme, or, in default of her, his aunt Marguerite, Duchessof Alencon, should be regent of the kingdom: "If it should please Godthat we should recover our personal liberty, and be able to proceed tothe government and conduct of our kingdom, in that case our most dear andmost beloved son shall quit and give up to us the name and place of king, all things re-becoming just as they were before our capture andcaptivity. " The letters patent ordered the regent "to get together anumber of good and notable personages from the three estates in all thedistricts, countries, and good towns of France, to whom, either in a bodyor separately, one after another, she should communicate the said will ofthe king, as above, in order to have their opinion, counsel, andconsent. " Thus, during the real king's very captivity, and so, long asit lasted, France was again about to have a king whom the States Generalof France would be called upon to support with their counsels andadhesion. 

[Illustration: Louise of Savoy and Marguerite de Valois----102]

This resolution was taken and these letters patent prepared just at theexpiry of the safe-conduct granted to the Princess Marguerite, and, consequently, just when she would have to return to France. Charles V. Was somewhat troubled at the very different position in which he wasabout to find himself, when he would have to treat no longer at Madridwith a captive king, but at Paris with a young king out of his power andwith his own people about him. Marguerite fully perceived hisembarrassment. From Toledo, where she was, she wrote to her brother, "After having been four days without seeing the emperor, when I went totake leave I found him so gracious that I think he is very much afraid ofmy going; those gentry yonder are in a great fix, and, if you will bepleased to hold firm, I can see them coming round to your wishes. Butthey would very much like to keep me here doing nothing, in order topromote their own affairs, as you will be pleased to understand. "Charles V. , in fact, signified to the king his desire that thenegotiations should be proceeded with at Madrid or Toledo, never ceasingto make protestations of his pacific intentions. Francis I. Repliedthat, for his part, "he would not lay any countermand on the duchess, that he would willingly hear what the emperor's ambassadors had to say, but that, if they did not come to any conclusion as to a peace and hisown liberation, he would not keep his own ambassadors any longer, andwould send them away. " Marguerite set out at the end of November; she atfirst travelled slowly, waiting for good news to reach her and stop heron the road; but, suddenly, she received notice from Madrid to quickenher steps; according to some historians, it was the Duke of Bourbon who, either under the influence of an old flame or in order to do a service tothe king he had betrayed, sent word to the princess that Charles V. , uneasy about what she was taking with her to France, had an idea ofhaving her arrested the moment her safe-conduct had expired. Accordingto a more probable version, it was Francis I. Himself who, learning thatthree days after Marguerite's departure Charles V. Had received a copy ofthe royal act of abdication, at once informed his sister, begging her tomake all haste. And she did so to such purpose that, "making four days'journey in one, " she arrived at Salces, in the Eastern Pyrenees, an hourbefore the expiry of her safe-conduct. She no doubt took to her mother, the regent, the details of the king's resolutions and instructions; butthe act itself containing them, the letters patent of Francis I. , had notbeen intrusted to her; it was Marshal de Montmorency who, at the end ofDecember, 15225, was the first bearer of them to France. 

Did Francis I. Flatter himself that his order to have his son the dauphindeclared and crowned king, and the departure of his sister Marguerite, who was going, if not to carry the actual text of the resolution, at anyrate to announce it to the regent and to France, would embarrass CharlesV. So far as to make him relax in his pretensions to the duchy ofBurgundy and its dependencies? There is nothing to show that he wasallured by such a hope; any how, if it may have for a moment arisen inhis mind, it soon vanished. Charles V. Insisted peremptorily upon hisrequirements; and Francis I. At once gave up his attitude of firmness, and granted, instead, the concession demanded of him, that is, therelinquishment of Burgundy and its dependencies to Charles V. , "to holdand enjoy with every right of supremacy until it hath been judged, decided, and determined, by arbiters elected on the emperor's part andour own, to whom the said duchy, countships, and other territoriesbelong. . . . And for guarantee of this concession, the dauphin, theking's eldest son, and his second son, Henry, Duke of Orleans, or othergreat personages, to the number of twelve, should be sent to him andremain in his keeping as hostages. " The regent, Louise, was not withouta hand in this determination of the king; her maternal affection tookalarm at the idea of her son's being for an indefinite period a prisonerin the hands of his enemy. Besides, in that case, war seemed to herinevitable; and she dreaded the responsibility which would be thrown uponher. Charles V. , on his side, was essentially a prudent man; he dislikedremaining, unless it were absolutely necessary, for a long while in adifficult position. His chancellor, Gattinera, refused to seal a treatyextorted by force and violated, in advance, by lack of good faith. "Bring the King of France so low, " he said, "that he can do you no harm, or treat him so well that he can wish you no harm, or keep him aprisoner: the worst thing you can do is to let him go half satisfied. "Charles V. Persisted in his pacific resolution. There is no knowingwhether he was tempted to believe in the reality of Francis I. 'sconcession, and to regard the guarantees as seriously meant; but it isevident that Francis I. Himself considered them a mere sham; for fourmonths previously, on the 22d of August, 1525, at the negotiationsentered into on this subject, he had taken care to deposit in the handsof his negotiators a nullifying protest "against all pacts, conventions, renunciations, quittances, revocations, derogations, and oaths that hemight have to make contrary to his honor and the good of his crown, tothe profit of the said emperor or any other whosoever. " And on the 13thof January, 1526, four weeks after having given his ambassadors ordersto sign the treaty of Madrid containing the relinquishment of Burgundyand its dependencies, the very evening before the day on which thattreaty was signed, Francis I. Renewed, at Madrid itself, and again placedin the hands of his ambassadors, his protest of the 22d of Augustpreceding against this act, declaring "that it was through force andconstraint, confinement and length of imprisonment, that he had signedit, and that all that was contained in it was and should remain null andof no effect. " We may not have unlimited belief in the scrupulosity ofmodern diplomats; but assuredly they would consider such a policy sofundamentally worthless that they would be ashamed to practise it. Wemay not hold sheer force in honor; but open force is better thanmendacious weakness, and less debasing for a government as well as for apeople. 

"As soon as the treaty of Madrid was signed, the emperor came to Madrid tosee the king; then they went, both in one litter, to see Queen Eleanor, the emperor's sister and the king of Portugal's widow, whom, by the saidtreaty, the king was to espouse before he left Spain, which he did. "[_Memoires de Martin Du Bellay, _ t. Ii. P. 15. ] After which Francis wasescorted by Lannoy to Fontarabia, whilst, on the other hand, the regentLouise, and the king's two sons who were to go as hostages to Spain, wereon their way to Bayonne. A large bark was anchored in the middle of theBidassoa, the boundary of the two kingdoms, between Irun and Andaye. Lannoy put the king on board, and received in exchange, from the hands ofMarshal Lautrec, the little princes Francis and Henry. The king gave hischildren his blessing, and reached the French side whilst they were beingremoved to the Spanish; and as soon as he set foot on shore, he leapedupon a fine Turkish horse, exclaiming, as he started at a gallop forBayonne, where his mother and his sister awaited him, "So now I am kingagain!"

On becoming king again, he fell under the dominion of three personalsentiments, which exercised a decisive influence upon his conduct, and, consequently, upon the destiny of France joy at his liberation, athirsting for revenge, we will not say for vengeance, to be wreaked onCharles V. , and the burden of the engagement he had contracted at Madridin order to recover his liberty, alternately swayed him. From Bayonne herepaired to Bordeaux, where he reassembled his court, and thence toCognac, in Saintonge, where he passed nearly three months, almostentirely abandoning himself to field-sports, galas, diversions, andpleasures of every kind, as if to indemnify himself for the wearisomenessand gloom in which he had lived at Madrid. "Age subdues the blood, adversity the mind, risks the nerve, and the despairing monarch has nohope but in pleasures, " says Tavannes in his Memoires: "such was FrancisI. , smitten of women both in body and mind. It is the little circle ofMadame d'Etampes that governs. " One of the regent's maids of honor, Anned'Heilly, whom Frances I. Made Duchess of Etampes, took the place of theCountess of Chateaubriant as his favorite. With strange indelicacyFrancis demanded back from Madame de Chateaubriant the beautiful jewelsof gold which he had given her, and which bore tender mottoes of hissister Marguerite's composition. The countess took time enough to havethe jewels melted down, and said to the king's envoy, "Take that to theking, and tell him that, as he has been pleased to recall what he gaveme, I send it back to him in metal. As for the mottoes, I cannot sufferany one but myself to enjoy them, dispose of them, and have the pleasureof them. " The king sent back the metal to Madame de Chateaubriant; itwas the mottoes that he wished to see again, but he did not get them. 

At last it was absolutely necessary to pass from pleasure to business. The envoys of Charles V. , with Lannoy, the Viceroy of Naples, at theirhead, went to Cognac to demand execution of the treaty of Madrid. Francis waited, ere he gave them an answer, for the arrival of thedelegates from the estates of Burgundy, whom he had summoned to havetheir opinion as to the cession of the duchy. These delegates, meetingat Cognac in June, 1527, formally repudiated the cession, being opposed, they said, to the laws of the kingdom, to the rights of the king, whocould not by his sole authority alienate any portion of his dominions, and to his coronation-oath, which superseded his oaths made at Madrid. Francis invited the envoys of Charles V. To a solemn meeting of his courtand council present at Cognac, at which the delegates from Burgundyrepeated their protest. Whilst availing himself of this declaration asan insurmountable obstacle to the complete execution of the treaty ofMadrid, Francis offered to give two million crowns for the redemption ofBurgundy, and to observe the other arrangements of the treaty, includingthe relinquishment of Italy and his marriage with the sister of CharlesV. Charles formally rejected this proposal. "The King of France, " hesaid, "promised and swore, on the faith of an honest king and prince, that, if he did not carry out the said restitution of Burgundy, he wouldincontinently come and surrender himself prisoner to H. M. The emperor, wherever he might be, to undergo imprisonment in the place where the saidlord the emperor might be pleased to order him, up to and until the timewhen this present treaty should be completely fulfilled and accomplished. Let the King of France keep his oath. " [_Traite de Madrid, _ 14th ofJanuary, 1526: art. Vi. ]

However determined he was, at bottom, to elude the strict execution ofthe treaty of Madrid, Francis was anxious to rebut the charge of perjuryby shifting the responsibility on to the shoulders of the peoplethemselves and their representatives. He did not like to summon thestates-general of the kingdom, and recognize their right as well as theirpower; but, after the meeting at Cognac, he went to Paris, and, on the12th of December, 1527, the Parliament met in state with the adjunct ofthe princes of the blood, a great number of cardinals, bishops, noblemen, deputies from the Parliaments of Toulouse, Bordeaux, Rouen, Dijon, Grenoble, and Aix, and the municipal body of Paris. In presence of thisassembly the king went over the history of his reign, his expeditions inItaly, his alternate successes and reverses, and his captivity. "If mysubjects have suffered, " he said, "I have suffered with them. " He thencaused to be read the letters patent whereby he had abdicated andtransferred the crown to his son the dauphin, devoting himself tocaptivity forever. He explained the present condition of the finances, and what he could furnish for the ransom of his sons detained ashostages; and he ended by offering to return as a prisoner to Spain if noother way could be found out of a difficult position, for he acknowledgedhaving given his word, adding, however, that he had thought it pledgedhim to nothing, since it had not been given freely. 

This last argument was of no value morally or diplomatically; but in hisbearing and his language Francis I. Displayed grandeur and emotion. Theassembly also showed emotion; they were four days deliberating; with someslight diversity of form the various bodies present came to the sameconclusion; and, on the 16th of December, 1527, the Parliament decidedthat the king was not bound either to return to Spain or to execute, asto that matter, the treaty of Madrid, and that he might with fullsanction and justice levy on his subjects two millions of crowns for theransom of his sons and the other requirements of the state. 

Before inviting such manifestations Francis I. Had taken measures toprevent them from being in vain. Since the battle of Pavia and hiscaptivity at Madrid the condition and disposition of Europe, andespecially of Italy, had changed. From 1513 to 1523, three popes, LeoX. , Adrian VI. , and Clement VII. Had occupied the Holy See. Adrian VI. Alone embraced the cause of Charles V. , whose preceptor he had been; buthe reigned only one year, eight months, and five days; and even duringthat short time he made only a timid use of his power on his patron'sbehalf. His successor, Clement VII. , was a Florentine and a Medici, and, consequently, but little inclined to favor the emperor's policy. Thesuccess of Charles V. At Pavia and the captivity of Francis I. Inspiredthe pope and all Italy with great dread of the imperial pretensions andpredominance. A league was formed between Rome, Florence, Venice, andMilan for the maintenance of Italian independence; and, as the pope wasat its head, it was called the Holy League. Secret messages andcommunications were interchanged between these Italian states, the regentLouise of Savoy at Paris, and King Henry VIII. In London, to win themover to this coalition, not less important, it was urged, for thesecurity of Europe than of Italy. The regent of France and the King ofEngland received these overtures favorably; promises were made on eitherside and a commencement was even made of preparations, which were hastilydisavowed both at Paris and in London, when Charles V. Testified somesurprise at them. But when Francis I. Was restored to freedom andreturned to his kingdom, fully determined in his own mind not to executethe treaty of Madrid, the negotiations with Italy became more full ofmeaning and reality. As early as the 22d of May, 1526, whilst he wasstill deliberating with his court and Parliament as to how he shouldbehave towards Charles V. Touching the treaty of Madrid, Francis I. Entered into the Holy League with the pope, the Venetians, and the Dukeof Milan for the independence of Italy; and on the 8th of Augustfollowing Francis I. And Henry VIII. Undertook, by a special treaty, togive no assistance one against the other to Charles V. , and Henry VIII. Promised to exert all his efforts to get Francis I. 's two sons, left ashostages in Spain, set at liberty. Thus the war between Francis I. AndCharles V. , after fifteen months' suspension, resumed its course. 

It lasted three years in Italy, from 1526 to 1529, without interruption, but also without result; it was one of those wars which are prolongedfrom a difficulty of living in peace rather than from any seriousintention, on either side, of pursuing a clear and definite object. Bourbon and Lannoy commanded the imperial armies, Lautrec the Frencharmy. Only two events, one for its singularity and the other for itstragic importance, deserve to have the memory of them perpetuated inhistory. 

After the battle of Pavia and whilst Francis I. Was a captive in Spain, Bourbon, who had hitherto remained in Italy, arrived at Madrid on the13th of November, 1525, almost at the same time at which Marguerite deValois was leaving it for France. Charles V. Received the hero of Paviawith the strongest marks of consideration and favor; and the Spanish armywere enthusiastic in their attachment to him. Amongst the great Spanishlords there were several who despised him as a traitor to his king andcountry. Charles V. Asked the Marquis de Villena to give him quarters inhis palace. "I can refuse the king nothing, " said the marquis; "but assoon as the traitor is out of the house, I will fire it with my own hand;no man of honor could live in it any more. " Holding this great and atthe same time doubtful position, Bourbon remained in Spain up to themoment when the war was renewed between Francis I. And Charles V. Thelatter could not at that time dispense with his services in Italy for theonly soldier who could have taken his place there, the Marquis ofPescara, had died at Milan on the 30th of November, 1525, agedthirty-six. Charles V. At once sent Bourbon to take the command of theimperial armies in Italy. On arriving at Milan in July, 1527, Bourbonfound not only that town, but all the emperor's party in Italy, in such astate of disorder, alarm, and exhaustion as to render them incapable ofany great effort. In view of this general disturbance, Bourbon, who wasas ambitious as able, and had become the chief of the great adventurersof his day, conceived the most audacious hopes. Charles V. Had promisedhim the duchy of Milan; why should he not have the kingdom of Naplesalso, and make himself independent of Charles V. ? He had immenseinfluence over his Spanish army; and he had recruited it in Germany withfrom fourteen to fifteen thousand lanzknechts, the greater part of themLutherans, and right glad to serve Charles V. , then at war with the pope. Their commander, Freundsberg, a friend of Bourbon's, had got made ahandsome gold chain, "expressly, " he said, "to hang and strangle the popewith his own hand, because 'honor to whom honor is due;' and since thepope called himself premier in Christendom, he must be deferred tosomewhat more than others. " [Brantome, t. I. P. 354. ] On the 30th ofJanuary, 1527, at Piacenza, Bourbon, late Constable of France, puthimself at the head of this ruck of bold and greedy adventurers. "I amnow, " said he to them, "nothing but a poor gentleman, who hasn't a pennyto call his own any more than you have; but, if you will have a littlepatience, I will make you all rich or die in the attempt;" and, sosaying, he distributed amongst them all he had left of money, rings, andjewels, keeping for himself nothing but his clothes and a jacket ofsilver tissue to put on over his armor. "We will follow you everywhere, to the devil himself!" shouted the soldiers; "no more of Julius Caesar, Hannibal, and Scipio! Hurrah! for the fame of Bourbon!" Bourbon ledthis multitude through Italy, halting before most of the towns, Bolognaand Florence even, which he felt a momentary inclination to attack, but, after all, continuing his march until, having arrived in sight of Rome onthe 5th of March, 1527, in the evening, he had pitched his camp, visitedhis guards, and ordered the assault for the morrow. "The great chancesof our destiny, " said he to his troops, "have brought us hither to theplace where we desired to be, after traversing so many bad roads, inmidwinter, with snows and frosts so great, with rain, and mud, andencounters of the enemy, in hunger and thirst, and without a halfpenny. Now is the time to show courage, manliness, and the strength of yourbodies. If this bout you are victorious, you will be rich lords andmighty well off; if not, you will be quite the contrary. Yonder is thecity whereof, in time past, a wise astrologer prophesied concerning me, telling me that I should die there; but I swear to you that I care butlittle for dying there, if, when I die, my corpse be left with endlessglory and renown throughout the world. " Afterwards he gave the word forretiring, some to rest, and some on guard, and for every one to be readyto assault on the morrow early. . . . "After that the stars becameobscured by the greater resplendency of the sun and the flashing arms ofthe soldiers who were preparing for the assault, Bourbon, clad all inwhite that he might be better known and seen (which was not the sign of acoward), and armor in hand, marched in front close up to the wall, and, when he had mounted two rungs of his ladder, just as he had said thenight before, so did it happen to him, that envious, or, to more properlyspeak, traitorous Fortune would have an arquebuse-shot to hit him full inthe left side and wound him mortally. And albeit she took from him hisbeing and his life, yet could she not in one single respect take away hismagnanimity and his vigor so long as his body had sense, as he wellshowed out of his own mouth, for, having fallen when he was hit, he toldcertain of his most faithful friends who were nigh him, and especiallythe Gascon captain, Jonas, to cover him with a cloak and take him away, that his death might not give occasion to the others to leave anenterprise so well begun. . . . Just then, as M. De Bourbon hadrecommended, --to cover and hide his body, --so did his men; in such sortthat the escalade and assault went on so furiously that the town, after alittle resistance, was carried; and the soldiers, having by this time gotwind of his death, fought the more furiously that it might be avenged, the which it certainly was right well, for they set up a shout of, 'Slay, slay! blood, blood! Bourbon, Bourbon!'" [Brantome, t. I. Pp. 262-269. ]

The celebrated artist-in-gold, Benvenuto Cellini, says, in his Lifewritten by himself, that it was he who, from the top of the wall of theCampo Santo at Rome, aiming his arquebuse at the midst of a group ofbesiegers, amongst whom he saw one man mounted higher than the rest, hithim, and that he then saw an extraordinary commotion around this man, whowas Bourbon, as he found out afterwards. [_Vita di Benvenuto Cellini, _ch. Xvii. Pp. 157-159. ] "I have heard say at Rome, " says Brantome onthe contrary, "that it was held that he who fired that wretchedarquebuse-shot was a priest. " [Brantome, t. Ii. P. 268. ]

Whatever hand it was that shot down Bourbon, Rome, after his death, wasplundered, devastated and ravaged by a brutal, greedy, licentious, andfanatical soldiery. Europe was moved at the story of the sack of Romeand the position of the pope, who had taken refuge in the castle of St. Angelo. Francis I. And Henry VIII. Renewed their alliance; and a Frencharmy under the command of Lautrec advanced into Italy. Charles V. , fearing lest it should make a rapid march to Rome and get possession ofthe pope whilst delivering him from captivity, entered into negotiationswith him; and, in consideration of certain concessions to the emperor, it was arranged that the pope should be set at liberty without delay. Clement VII. Was so anxious to get out of his position, lately soperilous and even now so precarious, that he slank out of the castle ofSt. Angelo in the disguise of a tradesman the very night before the dayfixed by the emperor for his liberation; and he retired to Orvieto, onthe territory occupied by the French army. During this confusion ofthings in Italy, Charles V. Gave orders for arresting in Spain theambassadors of Francis I. And of Henry VIII. , who were in allianceagainst him, and who, on their side, sent him two heralds-at-arms todeclare war against him. Charles V. Received them in open audience atBurgos, on the 22d of January, 1528. "I am very much astonished, " saidhe to the French envoy, "to find the King of France declaring against mea war which he has been carrying on for seven years; he is not in aposition to address to me such a declaration; he is my prisoner. Why hashe taken no notice of what I said to his ambassador immediately after hisrefusal to execute the treaty of Madrid?" Charles V. Now repeated, inthe very terms addressed to the French ambassador, the communication towhich he alluded: "The king your master acted like a Bastard and ascoundrel in not keeping his word that he gave me touching the treaty ofMadrid; if he likes to say to the contrary, I will maintain it againsthim with my body to his. " When these words were reported to Francis I. , he summoned, on the 27th of March, 1528, the princes of the blood, thecardinals, the prelates, the grandees of the kingdom, and the ministersfrom foreign courts, and, after having given a vivid account of hisrelations with Charles V. , "I am not the prisoner of Charles, " he said:"I have not given him my word; we have never met with arms in our hands. "He then handed his herald, Guyenne, a cartel written with his own hand, and ending with these words addressed to Charles V. : "We give you tounderstand that, if you have intended or do intend to charge us withanything that a gentleman loving his honor ought not to do, we say thatyou have lied in your throat, and that, as often as you say so, you willlie. Wherefore for the future write us nothing at all; but appoint usthe time and place of meeting, and we will bring our sword for you tocross; protesting that the shame of any delay in fighting shall be yours, seeing that, when it comes to an encounter, there is an end of allwriting. " Charles V. Did not receive Francis I. 's challenge till the 8thof June; when he, in his turn, consulted the grandees of his kingdom, amongst others the Duke of Infantado, one of the most considerable inrank and character, who answered him in writing: "The jurisdiction ofarms extends exclusively to obscure and foggy matters in which theordinary rules of justice are at a discount; but, when one can appeal tooaths and authentic acts, I do not think that it is allowable to come toblows before having previously tried the ordinary ways of justice. . . It seems to me that this law of honor applies to princes, however greatthey may be, as well as to knights. It would be truly strange, my lord, that a debt so serious, so universally recognized, as that contracted bythe King of France, should be discharged by means of a personalchallenge. " Charles V. Thereupon sent off his herald, Burgundy, withorders to carry to Francis I. "an appointment for a place of meetingbetween Fontarabia and Andaye, in such a spot as by common consent shouldbe considered most safe and most convenient by gentlemen chosen on eachside;" and this offer was accompanied by a long reply which the heraldwas at the same time to deliver to the King of France, whilst calling onhim to declare his intention within forty days after the delivery of thatletter, dated the 24th of June, "in default whereof, " said Charles, "thedelay in fighting will be yours. "

[Illustration: Francis I. ----115]

On arriving at the frontier of France the Spanish herald demanded asafe-conduct. He was made to wait seven weeks, from the 30th of June tothe 19th of August, without the king's cognizance, it is said. At last, on the 19th of September, 1528, Burgundy entered Paris, and wasconducted to the palace. Francis I. Received him in the midst of hiscourt; and, as soon as he observed the entrance of the herald, who madeobeisance preliminary to addressing him, "Herald, " cried the king, "allthy letters declare that thou bringest appointment of time and place;dost thou bring it?" "Sir, " answered the Spaniard, "permit me to do myoffice, and say what the emperor has charged me to say. " "Nay, I willnot listen to thee, " said Francis, "if thou do not first give me apatent signed by thy master, containing an appointment of time andplace. " "Sir, I have orders to read you the cartel, and give it youafterwards. " "How, pray!" cried the king, rising up angrily: "doth thymaster pretend to introduce new fashions in my kingdom, and give me lawsin my own court?" Burgundy, without being put out, began again: "Sir, . . . " "Nay, " said Francis, "I will not suffer him to speak to mebefore he has given me appointment of time and place. Give it me, orreturn as thou hast come. " "Sir, I cannot, without your permission, domy office; if you will not deign to grant it to me, let me have yourrefusal handed me, and your ratification I of my safe-conduct for myreturn. " "I am quite willing, " said the king; "let him have it!"Burgundy set off again for Madrid, and the incident was differentlyreported by the two courts; but there was no further question of a duelbetween the two kings. 

One would not think of attempting to decide, touching this question ofsingle combat, how far sincerity was on the side of Francis or ofCharles. No doubt they were both brave; the former with more brilliancythan his rival, the latter, at need, with quite as much firmness. But insending challenges one to the other, as they did on this occasion, theywere obeying a dying-out code, and rather attempting to keep upchivalrous appearances than to put seriously in practice the precedentsof their ancestors. It was no longer a time when the fate of a peoplecould be placed in the hands of a few valiant warriors, such as the threeHoratii and the three Curiatii, or the thirty Bretons and thirty English. The era of great nations and great contests was beginning, and one isinclined to believe that Francis I. And Charles V. Were themselves awarethat their mutual challenges would not come to any personal encounter. The war which continued between them in Italy was not much more seriousor decisive; both sides were weary of it, and neither one nor the otherof the two sovereigns espied any great chances of success. The Frencharmy was wasting itself, in the kingdom of Naples, upon petty, inconclusive engagements; its commander, Lautrec, died of the plague onthe 15th of August, 1528; a desire for peace became day by day stronger;it was made, first of all, at Barcelona, on the 20th of June, 1529, between Charles V. And Pope Clement VII. ; and then a conference wasopened at Cambrai for the purpose of bringing it about between Charles V. And Francis I. Likewise. Two women, Francis I. 's mother and Charles V. 'saunt, Louise of Savoy and Margaret of Austria, had the real negotiationof it; they had both of them acquired the good sense and the moderationwhich come from experience of affairs and from difficulties in life; theydid not seek to give one another mutual surprises and to play-off oneanother reciprocally; they resided in two contiguous houses, betweenwhich they had caused a communication to be made on the inside, and theyconducted the negotiation with so much discretion, that the petty Italianprinces who were interested in it did not know the results of it untilpeace was concluded on the 5th of August, 1529. Francis I. Yielded onall the Italian and Flemish questions; and Charles V. Gave up Burgundy, and restored to liberty the King of France's two sons, prisoners atMadrid, in consideration of a ransom put at two millions of crowns and ofhaving the marriage completed between his sister Eleanor and Francis I. King Henry VIII. Complained that not much account had been made of him, either during the negotiations or in the treaty; but his discontent wasshort-lived, and he none the less came to the assistance of Francis I. In the money-questions to which the treaty gave rise. Of the Italianstates, Venice was most sacrificed in this accommodation between thekings. "The city of Cambrai, " said the doge, Andrew Gritti, "is thepurgatory of the Venetians; it is the place where emperors and kings ofFrance make the Republic expiate the sin of having ever entered intoalliance with them. " Francis went to Bordeaux to meet his sons and hisnew wife. At Bordeaux, Cognac, Amboise, Blois, and Paris, galas, both atcourt and amongst the people, succeeded one another for six months; andEurope might consider itself at peace. 

The peace of Cambrai was called the ladies' peace, in honor of the twoprincesses who had negotiated it. Though morally different and of veryunequal worth, they both had minds of a rare order, and trained torecognize political necessities, and not to attempt any but possiblesuccesses. They did not long survive their work: Margaret of Austriadied on the 1st of December, 1530, and Louise of Savoy on the 22d ofSeptember, 1531. All the great political actors seemed hurrying awayfrom the stage, as if the drama were approaching its end. Pope ClementVII. Died on the 26th of September, 1534. He was a man of sense andmoderation; he tried to restore to Italy her independence, but he forgotthat a moderate policy is, above all, that which requires most energy andperseverance. These two qualities he lacked totally; he oscillated fromone camp to the other without ever having any real influence anywhere. Alittle before his death he made France a fatal present; for, on the 28thof October, 1533, he married his niece Catherine de' Medici to FrancisI. 's second son, Prince Henry of Valois, who by the death of his elderbrother, the Dauphin Francis, soon afterwards became heir to the throne. The chancellor, Anthony Duprat, too, the most considerable up to thattime amongst the advisers of Francis I. , died on the 9th of July, 1535. According to some historians, when he heard, in the preceding year, ofPope Clement VII. 's death, he had conceived a hope, being alreadyArchbishop of Sens, and a cardinal, of succeeding him; and he spoke tothe king about it. "Such an election would cost too dear, " said FrancisI. ; "the appetite of cardinals is insatiable; I could not satisfy it. ""Sir, " replied Duprat, "France will not have to bear the expense; I willprovide for it; there are four hundred thousand crowns ready for thatpurpose. " "Where did you get all that money, pray?" asked Francis, turning his back upon him; and next day he caused a seizure to be madeof a portion of the chancellor-cardinal's property. "This, then, "exclaimed Duprat, "is the king's gratitude towards the minister who hasserved him body and soul!" "What has the cardinal to complain of?" saidthe king: "I am only doing to him what he has so often advised me to doto others. " [_Trois Magestrats Francais du Seizieme Siecle, _ by EdouardFaye de Brys, 1844, pp. 77-79. ] The last of the chancellor'sbiographers, the Marquis Duprat, one of his descendants, has disputedthis story. [_Vie d'Antoine Duprat, _ 1857, p. 364. ] However that maybe, it is certain that Chancellor Duprat, at his death, left a very largefortune, which the king caused to be seized, and which he partlyappropriated. We read in the contemporary _Journal d'un Bourgeois deParis_ [published by Ludovic Lalanne, 1854, p. 460], "When the chancellorwas at the point of death, the king sent M. De Bryon, Admiral of France, who had orders to have everything seized and all his property placed inthe king's hands. . . . They found in his place at Nantouillet eighthundred thousand crowns, and all his gold and silver plate . . . Andin his Hercules-house, close to the Augustins', at Paris, where he usedto stay during his life-time, the sum of three hundred thousand livres, which were in coffers bound with iron, and which were carried off by theking for and to his own profit. " In the civil as well as in the militaryclass, for his government as well as for his armies, Francis I. Had, atthis time, to look out for new servants. 

He did not find such as have deserved a place in history. After thedeaths of Louise of Savoy, of Chancellor Duprat, of La Tremoille, of LaPalice, and of all the great warriors who fell at the battle of Pavia, itwas still one more friend of Francis I. 's boyhood, Anne de Montmorency, who remained, in council as well as army, the most considerable and themost devoted amongst his servants. In those days of war and discord, fraught with violence, there was no man who was more personally rough andviolent than Montmorency. From 1521 to 1541, as often as circumstancesbecame pressing, he showed himself ready for anything and capable ofanything in defence of the crown and the re-establishment of order. "Gohang me such a one, " he would say, according to Brantome. "Tie youfellow to this tree; give yonder one the pike or arquebuse, and allbefore my eyes; cut me in pieces all those rascals who chose to hold sucha clock-case as this against the king; burn me this village; set meeverything a-blaze, for a quarter of a league all round. " In 1548, a violent outbreak took place at Bordeaux on account of the gabel orsalt-tax; and the king's lieutenant was massacred in it. Anne deMontmorency, whom the king had made constable in 1538, the fifth of hisfamily invested with that dignity, repaired thither at once. "Aware ofhis coming, " says Brantome, "MM. De Bordeaux went two days' journey tomeet him and carry him the keys of their city: 'Away, away, ' said he, 'with your keys; I will have nothing to do with them; I have others whichI am bringing with me, and which will make other sort of opening thanyours (meaning his cannon); I will have you all hanged; I will teach youto rebel against your king, and kill his governor and lieutenant. ' Whichhe did not fail to do, " adds Brantome, "and inflicted exemplarypunishment, but not so severe assuredly as the case required. " Thenarrator, it will be seen, was not more merciful than the constable. Nor was the constable less stern or less thorough in battles than inoutbreaks. In 1562, at the battle of Dreux, he was aged and so ill thatnone expected to see him on horseback. "But in the morning, " saysBrantome, "knowing that the enemy was getting ready, he, brimful ofcourage, gets out of bed, mounts his horse, and appears at the moment themarch began; whereof I do remember me, for I saw him and heard him, whenM. De Guise came forward to meet him to give him good day, and ask how hewas. He, fully armed, save only his head, answered him, 'Right well, sir: this is the real medicine that hath cured me for the battle which istoward and a-preparing for the honor of God and our king. '" In spite ofthis indomitable aptness for rendering the king everywhere the mostdifficult, nay, the most pitiless services, the Constable de Montmorencynone the less incurred, in 1541, the disfavor of Francis I. ; privatedissensions in the royal family, the intrigues of rivals at court, andthe enmity of the king's mistress, the Duchess of Etampes, effaced theremembrance of all he had done and might still do. He did accept hisdisgrace; he retired first to Chantilly, and then to Ecouen; and there hewaited for the dauphin, when he became King Henry II. , to recall him tohis side and restore to him the power which Francis I. , on his verydeath-bed, had dissuaded his son from giving back. The ungratefulnessesof kings are sometimes as capricious as their favors. 

The ladies' peace, concluded at Cambrai in 1529, lasted up to 1536;incessantly troubled, however, by far from pacific symptoms, proceedings, and preparations. In October, 1532, Francis I. Had, at Calais, aninterview with Henry VIII. , at which they contracted a private alliance, and undertook "to raise between them an army of eighty thousand men toresist the Turk, as true zealots for the good of Christendom. " TheTurks, in fact, under their great sultan, Soliman II. , were constantlythreatening and invading Eastern Europe. Charles V. , as Emperor ofGermany, was far more exposed to their attacks and far more seriouslydisquieted by them than Francis I. And Henry VIII. Were; but the perilthat hung over him in the East urged him on at the same time to a furtherdevelopment of ambition and strength; in order to defend Eastern Europeagainst the Turks he required to be dominant in Western Europe; and inthat very part of Europe a large portion of the population were disposedto wish for his success, for they required it for their own security. "To read all that was spread abroad hither and thither, " says William duBellay, "it seemed that the said lord the emperor was born into thisworld to have fortune at his beck and call. " Two brothers, Mussulmanpirates, known under the name of Barbarossa, had become masters, one ofAlgiers and the other of Tunis, and were destroying, in theMediterranean, the commerce and navigation of Christian states. It wasCharles V. Who tackled them. In 1535 he took Tunis, set at libertytwenty thousand Christian slaves, and remained master of the regency. At the news of this expedition, Francis I. , who, in concert with HenryVIII. , was but lately levying an army to "offer resistance, " he said, "tothe Turk, " entered into negotiations with Soliman II. , and concluded afriendly treaty with him against what was called the common enemy. Francis had been for some time preparing to resume his projects ofconquest in Italy; he had effected an interview at Marseilles, inOctober, 1533, with Pope Clement VII. , who was almost at the point ofdeath, and it was there that the marriage of Prince Henry of France withCatherine de' Medici was settled. Astonishment was expressed that thepope's niece had but a very moderate dowry. "You don't see, then, " saidClement VII. 's ambassador, "that she brings France three jewels of greatprice, Genoa, Milan, and Naples?" When this language was reported at thecourt of Charles V. , it caused great irritation there. In 1536 allthese combustibles of war exploded; in the month of February, a Frencharmy entered Piedmont, and occupied Turin; and, in the month of July, Charles V. In person entered Provence at the head of fifty thousand men. Anne de Montmorency having received orders to defend southern France, began by laying it waste in order that the enemy might not be able tolive in it; officers had orders to go everywhere and "break up thebake-houses and mills, burn the wheat and forage, pierce the wine-casks, and ruin the wells by throwing the wheat into them to spoil the water. "In certain places the inhabitants resisted the soldiers charged with thisduty; elsewhere, from patriotism, they themselves set fire to theircorn-ricks and pierced their casks. Montmorency made up his mind todefend, on the whole coast of Provence, only Marseilles and Arles; hepulled down the ramparts of the other towns, which were left exposed tothe enemy. For two months Charles V. Prosecuted this campaign without afight, marching through the whole of Provence an army which fatigue, shortness of provisions, sickness, and ambuscades were decimatingingloriously. At last he decided upon retreating. "From Aix to Frejus, where the emperor at his arrival had pitched his camp, all the roads werestrewn with the sick and the dead pell-mell, with harness, lances, pikes, arquebuses, and other armor of men and horses gathered in a heap. I saywhat I saw, " adds Martin du Bellay, "considering the toil I had with mycompany in this pursuit. " At the village of Mery, near Frejus, somepeasants had shut themselves up in a tower situated on the line of march;Charles V. Ordered one of his captains to carry it by assault; from hissplendid uniform the peasants, it is said, took this officer for theemperor himself, and directed their fire upon him; the officer, mortallywounded, was removed to Nice, where he died at the end of a few days. Itwas Garcilaso de la Vega, the prince of Spanish poesy, the SpanishPetrarch, according to his fellow-countrymen. The tower was taken, andCharles V. Avenged his poet's death by hanging twenty-five of thesepatriot-peasants, being all that survived of the fifty who had maintainedthe defence. 

On returning from his sorry expedition, Charles V. Learned that those ofhis lieutenants whom he had charged with the conduct of a similarinvasion in the north of France, in Picardy, had met with no greatersuccess than he himself in Provence. Queen Mary of Hungary, his sisterand deputy in the government of the Low Countries, advised a local truce;his other sister, Eleanor, the Queen of France, was of the same opinion;Francis I. Adopted it; and the truce in the north was signed for a periodof three months. Montmorency signed a similar one for Piedmont. It wasagreed that negotiations for a peace should be opened at Locate inRoussillon, and that, to pursue them, Francis should go and take up hisquarters at Montpellier, and Charles V. At Barcelona. Pope Paul III. (Alexander Farnese), who, on the 13th of October, 1534, had succeededClement VII. , came forward as mediator. He was a man of capacity, whohad the gift of resolutely continuing a moderate course of policy, wellcalculated to gain time, but insufficient for the settlement of great anddifficult questions. The two sovereigns refused to see one anotherofficially; they did not like the idea of discussing together theirmutual pretensions, and they were so different in character that, asMarguerite de Valois used to say, "to bring them to accord, God would havehad to re-make one in the other's image. " They would only consent totreat by agents; and on the 15th of June, 1538, they signed a truce forten years, rather from weariness of a fruitless war than from any realdesire of peace; they, both of them, wanted time to bring them unforeseenopportunities for getting out of their embarrassments. But for all theirrefusal to take part in set negotiations, they were both desirous ofbeing personally on good terms again, and to converse together withoutentering into any engagement. Charles V. Being forced by contrary windsto touch at the Island of Sainte-Marie, made a proposal to Francis I. For an interview at Aigues Mortes; Francis repaired thither on the 14thof July, 1538, and went, the very same day, in a small galley, to pay avisit to the emperor, who stepped eagerly forward, and held out a hand tohim to help him on to the other vessel. Next day, the 15th of July, Charles V. , embarking on board one of the king's frigates, went andreturned the visit at Aigues-Mortes, where Francis, with his whole court, was awaiting him; after disembarkation at the port they embraced; andQueen Eleanor, glad to see them together, "embraced them both, " says aneyewitness, "a round the waist. " They entered the town amidst the roarof artillery and the cheers of the multitude, shouting, "Hurrah! for theemperor and the king!" The dauphin, Henry, and his brother Charles, Dukeof Orleans, arriving boot and spur from Provence, came up at this moment, shouting likewise, "Hurrah! for the emperor and the king!" "Charles V. Dropped on his knees, " says the narrator, and embraced the two youngprinces affectionately. They all repaired together to the house preparedfor their reception, and, after dinner, the emperor, being tired, laydown to rest on a couch. Queen Eleanor, before long, went and tapped athis door, and sent word to the king that the emperor was awake. Francis, with the Cardinal de Lorraine and the Constable de Montmorency, soonarrived. On entering the chamber, he found the emperor still lying downand chatting with his sister the queen, who was seated beside him on achair. At sight of the king Charles V. Sprang from the couch and wenttowards him without any shoes on. "Well, brother, " said the king, "howdo you feel? Have you rested well?" "Yes, " said Charles; "I had madesuch cheer that I was obliged to sleep it off. " "I wish you, " saidFrancis, "to have the same power in France as you have in Flanders and inSpain;" whereupon he gave him, as a mark of affection, a diamond valuedat thirty thousand crowns, and having on the ring in which it was setthis inscription: "A token and proof of affection" (Dilectionis testiset exemplum). Charles put the ring on his finger; and, taking from hisneck the collar of the order (the Golden Fleece) he was wearing, he putit upon the king's neck. Francis did the converse with his own collar. Only seven of the attendants remained in the emperor's chamber; and therethe two sovereigns conversed for an hour, after which they moved to thehall, where a splendid supper awaited them. After supper the queen wentin person to see if the emperor's room was ready; she came back to tellhim when it was, and Charles V. Retired. Next morning, July 16, Franciswent to see him again in his room; they heard mass together; Charlesre-embarked the same day for Spain; Francis I. Went and slept, on the17th, at Nimes; and thus ended this friendly meeting, which left, if notthe principal actors, at any rate the people all around, brimful ofsatisfaction, and feeling sure that the truce concluded in the previousmonth would really at last be peace. The people are easily deceived; andwhenever they are pleased with appearances they readily take them forrealities. 

An unexpected event occurred to give this friendly meeting atAigues-Mortes a value which otherwise it would probably never haveattained. A year afterwards, in August, 1539, a violent insurrectionburst out at Ghent. The fair deputy of the Low Countries had obtainedfrom the estates of Flanders a gratuitous grant of twelve hundredthousand florins for the assistance of her brother the emperor, whom hisunfortunate expedition in Provence had reduced to great straits for wantof money; and the city of Ghent had been taxed, for its share, to theextent of four hundred thousand florins. The Ghentese pleaded theirprivilege of not being liable to be taxed without their own consent. Totheir plea Charles V. Responded by citing the vote of the estates ofFlanders and giving orders to have it obeyed. The Ghentese drove out theofficers of the emperor, entered upon open rebellion, incited the othercities of Flanders, Ypres and Bruges amongst the rest, to join them, and, taking even more decisive action, sent a deputation to Francis I. , astheir own lord's suzerain, demanding his support, and offering to makehim master of the Low Countries if he would be pleased to give themeffectual assistance. The temptation was great; but whether it were fromprudence or from feudal loyalty, or in consequence of the meeting atAigues-Mortes, and of the prospects set before him by Charles of anarrangement touching Milaness, Francis rejected the offer of theGhentese, and informed Charles V. Of it. The emperor determinedresolutely upon the course of going in person and putting down theGhentese; but how to get to Ghent? The sea was not safe; the rebels hadmade themselves masters of all the ports on their coasts; the passage byway of Germany was very slow work, and might be difficult by reason ofill-will on the part of the Protestant states which would have to betraversed. France was the only direct and quick route. Charles V. Sentto ask Francis I. For a passage, whilst thanking him for the loyaltywith which he had rejected the offers of the Ghentese, and repeating tohim the fair words that had been used as to Milaness. Francis announcedto his council his intention of granting the emperor's request. Some ofhis councillors pressed him to annex some conditions, such, at the least, as a formal and written engagement instead of the vague and verbalpromises at Aigues-Mortes. "No, " said the king, with the impulsivenessof his nature, "when you do a generous thing, you must do it completelyand boldly. " On leaving the council he met his court-fool Triboulet, whom he found writing in his tablets, called Fools' Diary, the name ofCharles V. , "A bigger fool than I, " said he, "if he comes passingthrough France. " "What wilt thou say, if I let him pass?" said the king. "I will rub out his name and put yours in its place. " Francis I. Was notcontent with letting Charles V. Pass; he sent his two sons, the dauphinand the Duke of Orleans, as far as Bayonne to meet him, went in person toreceive him at Chatellerault, and gave him entertainments at Amboise, atBlois, at Chambord, at Orleans, and Fontainebleau, and lastly at Paris, which they entered together on the 1st of January, 1540. Orders had beensent everywhere to receive him "as kings of France are received on theirjoyous accession. " "The king gave his guest, " says Du Bellay, "all thepleasures that can be invented, as royal hunts, tourneys, skirmishes, fights a-foot and a-horseback, and in all other sorts of pastimes. " Somepetty incidents, of a less reassuring kind, were intermingled with theseentertainments. One day the Duke of Orleans, a young prince full ofreckless gayety, jumped suddenly on to the crupper of the emperor'shorse, and threw his arms round Charles, shouting, "Your Imperial Majestyis my prisoner. " Charles set off at a gallop, without turning his head. 

[Illustration: The Duke of Orleans and Charles V. ----128]

Another day the king's favorite, the Duchess of Etampes, was present withthe two monarchs. "Brother, " said Francis, "you see yonder a fair damewho is of opinion that I should not let you out of Paris without yourhaving revoked the treaty of Madrid. " "Ah! well, " said Charles, "if theopinion is a good one, it must be followed. " Such freedom of thought andspeech is honorable to both sovereigns. Charles V. , impressed with thewealth and cheerful industry that met his eye, said, according toBrantome, "There is not in the world any greatness such as that of a Kingof France. " After having passed a week at Paris he started for the LowCountries, halted at Chantilly, at the Constable de Montmorency's, who, as well as the king's two sons, the dauphin and the Duke of Orleans, wasin attendance upon him, and did not separate from his escort of Frenchroyalty until he arrived at Valenciennes, the first town in his Flemishdominions. According to some historians there had been at Chantilly, amongst the two young princes and their servants, some idea of seizingthe emperor and detaining him until he had consented to the concessionsdemanded of him; others merely say that the constable, before leavinghim, was very urgent with him that he should enter into some positiveengagement as to Milaness. "No, " said Charles, "I must not bind myselfany more than I have done by my words as long as I am in your power; whenI have chastised my rebellious subjects I will content your king. "

He did chastise, severely, his Flemish subjects, but he did not contentthe King of France. Francis I. Was not willing to positively renouncehis Italian conquests, and Charles V. Was not willing to really give themup to him. Milaness was still, in Italy, the principal object of theirmutual ambition. Navarre, in the south-east of France, and the LowCountries in the north, gave occasion for incessantly renewed disputesbetween them. The two sovereigns sought for combinations which wouldallow them to make, one to the other, the desired concessions, whilststill preserving pretexts for and chances of recovering them. Diversprojects of marriage between their children or near relatives wereadvanced with that object, but nothing came of them; and, after two yearsand a half of abortive negotiations, another great war, the fourth, brokeout between Francis I. And Charles V. , for the same causes and with thesame by-ends as ever. It lasted two years, from 1542 to 1544, withalternations of success and reverse on either side, and severaldiplomatic attempts to embroil in it the different European powers. Francis I. Concluded an alliance in 1543 with Sultan Soliman II. , and, inconcert with French vessels, the vessels of the pirate Barbarossa cruisedabout and made attacks upon the shores of the Mediterranean. An outcrywas raised against such a scandal as this. "Sir Ambassador, " saidFrancis I. To Marino Giustiniano, ambassador from Venice, "I cannot denythat I eagerly desire to see the Turk very powerful and ready for war;not on his own account, for he is an infidel and all we are Christians, but in order to cripple the power of the emperor, to force him into greatexpense, and to give all other governments security against so great anenemy. " "As for me, " says the contemporary Montluc in his Memoires, "ifI could summon all the spirits of hell to break the head of my enemy whowould fain break mine, I would do it with all my heart, God forgive me!"On the other hand, on the 11th of February, 1543, Charles V. And HenryVIII. , King of England, concluded an alliance against Francis I. And theTurks. The unsuccess which had attended the grand expedition conductedby Charles V. Personally in 1541, with the view of attacking Barbarossaand the Mussulmans in Algiers itself, had opened his eyes to all thedifficulty of such enterprises, and he wished to secure the co-operationof a great maritime power before engaging therein afresh. He at the sametime convoked a German diet at Spires in order to make a strongdemonstration against the alliance between Francis I. And the Turks, andto claim the support of Germany in the name of Christendom. Ambassadorsfrom the Duke of Savoy and the King of Denmark appeared in support of thepropositions and demands of Charles V. The diet did not separate untilit had voted twenty-four thousand foot and four thousand horse to beemployed against France, and had forbidden Germans, under severepenalties, to take service with Francis I. In 1544 the war thus becamealmost European, and in the early days of April two armies wereconcentrated in Piedmont, near the little town of Ceresole, the Spanishtwenty thousand strong and the French nineteen thousand; the former underthe orders of the Marquis del Guasto, the latter under those of the Countd'Enghien; both ready to deliver a battle which was, according to oneside, to preserve Europe from the despotic sway of a single master, and, according to the other, to protect Europe against a fresh invasion ofMussulmans. 

Francis of Bourbon, Count d'Enghien, had received from the king aprohibition to give battle. He was believed to be weaker than theMarquis del Guasto, who showed eagerness to deliver it. Convinced thatsuch a position was as demoralizing as it was disagreeable for him, theyoung Count d'Enghien sent a valiant and intelligent gentleman, Blaise deMontluc, who had already had experience in the great wars of the reign, to carry his representations to the king. Francis I. Summoned themessenger to a meeting of the council, at which the dauphin, Henry, stoodbehind his father's chair. "Montluc, " said the king, "I wish you toreturn and report my deliberation and the opinion of my council to M. D'Enghien, and to listen here to the difficulty that stands in the way ofour being able to grant him leave to give battle, as he demands. " TheCount de St. Pol spoke and set forth the reasons the king had for notdesiring battle; and the end of them all was that there was a chance oflosing, which would be a matter for regret beyond all comparison with theadvantage to be gained from winning. "I stamped with impatience tospeak, " says Montluc, "and would have broken in; but M. De St. Pol mademe a sign with his hand, saying, 'Quiet! quiet!' which made me hold mytongue, and I saw that the king set on a-laughing. Then he told me thathe wished me to say freely what I thought about it. 'I consider myselfmost happy, sir, ' said I, 'for when you were dauphin, and before you werecalled to this great charge which God hath given you, you tried thefortune of war as much as any king that ever hath been in France, withoutsparing your own person any more than the meanest gentleman. Well, asoldier-king is the only one I can address. ' The dauphin, who was facingme, " continued Montluc, "made me a sign with his head, which caused me tothink that he wished me to speak boldly. Then said I, 'Sir, I count thatthere will be forty-five hundred or forty-six hundred of us Gascons, alltold; and all of us, captains and soldiers, will give you our names andthe places whence we come, and will stake our heads that we will fight onthe day of battle, if it should please you to grant it. It is a matterthat we have been awaiting and desiring this long while, without muchtaking of counsel; be assured, sir, there are not more resolute soldiersthan yonder. There are, besides, thirteen companies of Swiss, who willgive you the same pledge as we who are your subjects; and we will hand into you the names of them all for to be sent to their cantons in orderthat, if there be any who shall not do his duty, he may die. You havethus nine thousand men and more of whom you may be certain that they willfight to the last gasp of their lives. As for the Italians andProvencals, I will not answer to you for them; but perhaps they will alldo as well as we, when they see us getting to work;' and then I raised myarm up, as if to strike, whereat the king smiled. Sir, ' said I, 'I haveheard from wise captains that it is not the great number that wins, butthe stout heart; on a day of battle, a moiety doth not fight at all. We desire no more; leave it to us. ' The king, who had very favorablylistened to me, and who took pleasure in seeing my impatience, turned hiseyes towards M. De St. Pol, who said, 'Sir, would you change your opinionat the words of this madcap, who has no thought for the calamity it wouldbe if we were to lose the battle? It is a matter too important to beleft for settlement to the brains of a young Gascon. ' I answered him, 'Sir, let me assure you that I am no braggart, nor so hare-brained as youconsider me. All we have to do is not to go and attack the enemy in astronghold, as we did at La Bicocca; but M. D'Enghien has too many goodand veteran captains about him to commit such an error. The onlyquestion will be to find means of coming at them in open country, wherethere is neither hedge nor ditch to keep us from setting to work; andthen, sir, you shall hear talk of the most furious fights that ever were. I do entreat you most humbly, sir, to admit no thought of anything but avictory. ' The dauphin, " continues Montluc, "went on more and moresmiling, and making signs to me, which gave me still greater boldness inspeaking. All the rest spoke and said that the king must not place anyreliance upon my words. Admiral d'Annebaut said not a syllable, butsmiled; I suppose he had seen the signs the dauphin was making to me. M. De St. Pol turns to speak to the king, and says, 'How, sir! You seemdisposed to change your opinion, and listen to the words of this rabidmadman!' To whom the king replied, 'On my honor as a gentleman, cousin, he has given me such great and clear reasons, and has represented to meso well the good courage of my men, that I know not what to do. ' 'I seequite well, ' said the Lord of St. Pol, 'that you have already turnedround. ' Whereupon the king, addressing the admiral, asked him what hethought about it. 'Sir, ' answered the admiral, 'you have a great mind togive them leave to fight. I will not be surety to you, if they fight, for gain or loss, since God alone can know about that; but I willcertainly pledge you my life and my honor that all they whom he hasmentioned to you will fight, and like good men and true, for I know whatthey are worth from having commanded them. Only do one thing; we knowwell that you are half brought round and inclined rather to fighting thanthe contrary; make, then, your prayer to God, and entreat Him to bepleased this once to aid you and counsel you as to what you ought to do. 'Then the king lifted his eyes towards heaven, and, clasping his hands andthrowing his cap upon the table, said, 'O God, I entreat Thee that it mayplease Thee to this day give me counsel as to what I ought to do for thepreservation of my kingdom, and that all may be to Thy honor and glory!'Whereupon the admiral asked him, 'Sir, what opinion occurs to you now?'The king, after pausing a little, turned towards me, saying, with a sortof shout, 'Let them fight! let them fight!' 'Well, then, there is nomore to be said, ' replied the admiral; 'if you lose, you alone will bethe cause of the loss; and, if you win, in like manner; and you, allalone, will have the satisfaction of it, you alone having given theleave. ' Then the king and every one rose up, and, as for me, I tingledwith joy. His Majesty began talking with the admiral about my despatchand about giving orders for the pay which was in arrears. And M. De St. Pol accosted me, saying with a laugh, 'Rabid madman, thou wilt be causeof the greatest weal that could happen to the king, or of the greatestwoe. '"

Montluc's boldness and Francis I. 's confidence in yielding to it were notunrewarded. The battle was delivered at Ceresole on the 14th of April, 1544; it was bravely disputed and for some time indecisive, even in theopinion of the anxious Count d'Enghien, who was for a while in an awkwardpredicament; but the ardor of the Gascons and the firmness of the Swissprevailed, and the French army was victorious. Montluc was eagerlydesirous of being commissioned to go and carry to the king the news ofthe victory which he had predicted and to which he had contributed; butanother messenger had the preference; and he does not, in his Memoires, conceal his profound discontent; but he was of those whom theirdiscontent does not dishearten, and he continued serving his king and hiscountry with such rigorous and stubborn zeal as was destined hereafter, in the reign of Henry III. , to make him Marshal of France at last. Hehad to suffer a disappointment more serious than that which was personalto himself; the victory of Ceresole had not the results that might havebeen expected. The war continued; Charles V. Transferred his principalefforts therein to the north, on the frontiers of the Low Countries andFrance, having concluded an alliance with Henry VIII. For acting inconcert and on the offensive. Champagne and Picardy were simultaneouslyinvaded by the Germans and the English; Henry VIII. Took Boulogne;Charles V. Advanced as far as Chateau-Thierry and threatened Paris. Great was the consternation there; Francis I. Hurried up fromFontainebleau and rode about the streets, accompanied by the Duke ofGuise, and everywhere saying, "If I cannot keep you from fear, I willkeep you from harm. " "My God, " he had exclaimed, as he started fromFontainebleau, "how dear Thou sellest me my kingdom!" The peoplerecovered courage and confidence; they rose in a body; forty thousandarmed militiamen defiled, it is said, before the king. The army arrivedby forced marches, and took post between Paris and Chateau-Thierry. 

[Illustration: Claude de Lorraine, Duke of Guise----130]

Charles V. Was not rash; he fell back to Crespy in Laonness, some fewleagues from his Low Countries. Negotiations were opened; and FrancisI. , fearing least Henry VIII. , being master of Boulogne, should come andjoin Charles V. , ordered his negotiator, Admiral d'Annebaut, to acceptthe emperor's offers, "for fear lest he should rise higher in his demandswhen he knew that Boulogne was in the hands of the King of England. " Thedemands were hard, but a little less so than those made in 1540; CharlesV. Yielded on some special points, being possessed beyond everything withthe desire of securing Francis I. 's co-operation in the two greatcontests he was maintaining, against the Turks in eastern Europe andagainst the Protestants in Germany. Francis I. Conceded everything inrespect of the European policy in order to retain his rights overMilaness and to recover the French towns on the Somme. Peace was signedat Crespy on the 18th of September, 1544; and it was considered so bad anone that the dauphin thought himself bound to protest, first of allsecretly before notaries and afterwards at Fontainebleau, on the 12th ofDecember, in the presence of three princes of the royal house. Thisfeeling was so general that several great bodies, amongst others theParliament of Toulouse (on the 22d of January, 1545), followed thedauphin's example. 

Francis I. Was ill, saddened, discouraged, and still he thought ofnothing but preparing for a fifth great campaign against Charles V. Since his glorious victory at Melegnano in the beginning of his reign, fortune had almost invariably forsaken his policy and all hisenterprises, whether of war or of diplomacy; but, falling at one time avictim to the defects of his mind and character, and being at anotherhurried away by his better qualities and his people's sympathy, he tookno serious note of the true causes or the inevitable consequences of hisreverses, and realized nothing but their outward and visible signs, whilst still persisting in the same hopeful illusions and the same waysof government. Happily for the lustre of his reign and the honor of hisname, he had desires and tastes independent of the vain and recklesspolicy practised by him with such alternations of rashness and feeblenessas were more injurious to the success of his designs than to his personalrenown, which was constantly recovering itself through the brilliancy ofhis courage, the generous though superficial instincts of his soul, andthe charm of a mind animated by a sincere though ill-regulated sympathyfor all the beautiful works of mankind in literature, science, and art, and for all that does honor and gives embellishment to the life of humanbeings. 

CHAPTER XXIX. ----FRANCIS I. AND THE RENAISSANCE. 

[Illustration: FRANCIS I. ----137]

Francis I. , in his life as a king and a soldier, had two rare pieces ofgood fortune: two great victories, Melegnano and Ceresole, stand out atthe beginning and the end of his reign; and in his direst defeat, atPavia, he was personally a hero. In all else, as regards his government, his policy was neither an able nor a successful one; for two and thirtyyears he was engaged in plans, attempts, wars, and negotiations; hefailed in all his designs; he undertook innumerable campaigns orexpeditions that came to nothing; he concluded forty treaties of war, peace, or truce, incessantly changing aim, and cause, and allies; and, for all this incoherent activity, he could not manage to conquer eitherthe empire or Italy; he brought neither aggrandizement nor peace toFrance. 

Outside of the political arena, in quite a different field of ideas andfacts, that is, in the intellectual field, Francis I. Did better andsucceeded better. In this region he exhibited an instinct and a tastefor the grand and the beautiful; he had a sincere love for literature, science, and art; he honored and protected, and effectually too, theirworks and their representatives. And therein it is that more than onesovereign and more than one age have found their purest glory to consist. Virgil, Horace, and Livy contributed quite as much as the foundation ofthe empire to shed lustre on the reign of Augustus. Bossuet, Pascal, andFenelon, Corneille, Racine, Boileau, Moliere, and La Fontaine, count forquite as much as his great warriors and his able administrators in regardto the splendor of the age of Louis XIV. People are quite right to setthis estimate upon the heroes of the human mind and upon their works;their portion in the history of mankind is certainly not the mostdifficult, but it is that which provides both those who give and thosewho take with the purest delights, and which is the least dear in respectof what it costs the nation. 

The reign of Francis I. Occupies the first half of the century (thesixteenth), which has been called the age of Renaissance. Takenabsolutely, and as implying a renaissance, following upon a decay ofscience, literature, and art, the expression is exaggerated, and goesbeyond the truth; it is not true that the five centuries which rolled bybetween the establishment of the Capetians and the accession of FrancisI. (from 987 to 1515), were a period of intellectual barrenness anddecay; the middle ages, amidst the anarchy, violence, and calamities oftheir social condition, had, in philosophy, literature, and art, works oftheir own and a glory of their own, which lacked not originality, orbrilliancy, or influence over subsequent ages. There is no idea oftelling their history here; we only desire to point out, with some sortof precision, their special character and their intellectual worth. 

At such a period, what one would scarcely expect to find is intellectualambition on a very extensive scale and great variety in the branches ofknowledge and in the scope of ideas. And yet it is in the thirteenthcentury that we meet for the first time in Europe and in France with theconception and the execution of a vast repertory of different scientificand literary works produced by the brain of man, in fact with a veritableEncyclopaedia. It was a monk, a preaching friar, a simple Dominicanreader (lector qualiscumque), whose life was passed, as he himself says, by the side and under the eye of the superior-general of his order, whoundertook and accomplished this great labor. Vincent of Beauvais, bornat Beauvais between 1184 and 1194, who died at his native place in 1264, an insatiable glutton for books (librorum helluo), say hiscontemporaries, collected and edited what he called _Bibliotheca Mundi, Speculum majus_ (Library of the World, an enlarged Mirror), an immensecompilation, the first edition of which, published at Strasbourg in 1473, comprises ten volumes folio, and would comprise fifty or sixty volumesoctavo. The work contains three, and, according to some manuscripts, four parts, entitled _Speculum naturale_ (Mirror of Natural Science), _Speculum historiale_ (Mirror of Historical Science), _Speculumdoctrinale_ (Mirror of Metaphysical Science), and _Speculum morale_(Mirror of Moral Science). M. Daunou, in the notice he has given to it[in the xviiith volume of the _Histoire litteraire de la France, _ begunby the Benedictines and continued by the _Academie des Inscriptions etBelleslettres de l'Institut, _ pp. 449-519], disputes, not without reason, the authenticity of this last part. Each of these Specula contains asummary, extracted from the various writings which have reference to thesubject of it, and the authors of which Vincent of Beauvais takes care toname. M. Daunou, at the end of his learned notice, has described thenature, the merit, and the interest of the work in the following terms:"The writings and documents which we have to thank Vincent of Beauvaisfor having preserved to us are such as pertain to veritable studies, todoctrines, to traditions, and even to errors which obtained a certainamount of credit or exercised a certain amount of influence in the courseof ages. . . . Whenever it is desirable to know what were in France, about 1250, the tendency and the subjects of the most elevated studies, what sciences were cultivated, what books, whether ancient, or, for thetime, modern, were or might have been read, what questions were inagitation, what doctrines were prevalent in schools, monasteries, churches, and the world, it will be to Vincent of Beauvais, above all, that recourse must be had. " There is nothing to be added to thisjudicious estimate; there is no intention of entering here into any sortof detail about the work of Vincent of Beauvais; only it is desirable tobring some light to bear upon the intellectual aspirations and activityof the middle ages in France previously to the new impulse which was tobe communicated to them by the glorious renaissance of Greek and Romanantiquity. A scientific, historical, and philosophical encyclopaedia ofthe thirteenth century surely deserves to find a place in the preface tothe sixteenth. 

After the encyclopaedist of the middle ages come, naturally, theirphilosophers. They were numerous; and some of them have remainedillustrious. Several of them, at the date of their lives and labors, have already been met with and remarked upon in this history, such asGerbert of Aurillac, who became Pope Sylvester II. , St. Anselm, Abelard, St. Bernard, Robert of Sorbon, founder of the Sorbonne, and St. ThomasAquinas. 

[Illustration: St. Thomas Aquinas and Abelard----140]

To these names, known to every enlightened man, might be added manyothers less familiar to the public, but belonging to men who held a highplace in the philosophical contests of their times, such as John ScotErigena, Berenger, Roscelin, William of Champeaux, Gilbert of La Poree, &c. The questions which always have taken and always will take apassionate hold of men's minds in respect of God, the universe, and man, in respect of our origin, our nature, and our destiny, were raised anddiscussed, from the eleventh to the fifteenth century, if not with somuch brilliancy, at any rate with as much boldness and earnest thought, as at any other period. The middle ages had, in France, theirspiritualists, their materialists, their pantheists, their rationalists, their mystics, and their sceptics, not very clear or refined in theirnotions, but such as lacked neither profundity in their general view ofthe questions, nor ingenious subtilty in their argumentative process. Wedo not care to give in this place any exposition or estimate of theirdoctrines; we shall simply point out what there was original andcharacteristic in their fashion of philosophizing, and wherein theirmental condition differed essentially from that which was engendered andpropagated, in the sixteenth century, by the resuscitation of Greek andRoman antiquity. 

It is the constant idea of the philosophers and theologians of thatperiod to affirm and to demonstrate the agreement between Christian faithand reason. They consider themselves placed between two fixed points, faith in the Christian truths inculcated from the very first or formallyrevealed by God to man, and reason, which is the faculty given to man toenable him to recognize the truth. "Faith, " wrote Hildebert, Archbishopof Tours, in the eleventh century, "is not contrary to reason, but it isabove reason. If, like the philosophers, one willeth not to believeanything but what reason comprehends, faith, in this case, hath no merit. The merit is in believing that which, without being contrary to reason, is above it. . . . Faith is certainty in respect of things which fallnot under the perceptions of the body; it is below knowledge, for tobelieve is less than to know; and it is above opinion, for to believe ismore than to imagine. " "I do not seek to understand in order tobelieve, " says St. Anselm; "I believe in order to understand. . . . Authority requires faith in order to prepare man for reason. " But"authority, " said St. Columban, in the sixth century, "proceeds fromright reason, not at all reason from authority. Every authority whereofthe decrees are not approved of by right reason appears mighty weak. "Minds so liberal in the face of authority, and at the same time attachedto revealed and traditional faith, could not but be sometimes painfullyperplexed. "My wounded spirit, " said Adam of the Premontre-order (lepremontre), in the twelfth century, "calls to her aid that which is thesource of all grace and all life. But where is it? What is it? In hertrouble the spirit hath love abiding; but she knows no longer what it isshe loves, what she ought to love. She addresseth herself to the stonesand to the rocks, and saith to them, 'What are ye?' And the stones andthe rocks make answer, 'We are creatures of the same even as thou art. 'To the like question the sun, the moon, and the stars make the likeanswer. The spirit doth interrogate the sand of the sea, the dust of theearth, the drops of rain, the days of the years, the hours of the days, the moments of the hours, the turf of the fields, the branches of thetrees, the leaves of the branches, the scales of fish, the wings ofbirds, the utterances of men, the voices of animals, the movements ofbodies, the thoughts of minds; and these things declare, all with oneconsent, unto the spirit, 'We are not that which thou demandest; searchup above us, and thou wilt find our Creator!'" In the tenth century, Remigius the theologian had gone still farther: "I have resolved, " saidhe, "to make an investigation as to my God; for it doth not suffice me tobelieve in Him; I wish further to see somewhat of Him. I feel that thereis somewhat beyond my spirit. If my spirit should abide within herselfwithout rising above herself, she would see only herself; it must beabove herself that my spirit will reach God. "

God, creator, lawgiver, and preserver of the universe and of man, everywhere and always present and potent, in permanent connection, nay, communication, with man, at one time by natural and at another bysupernatural means, at one time by the channel of authority and atanother by that of free-agency, this is the point of departure, this thefixed idea of the philosopho-theologians of the middle ages. There aregreat gaps, great diversities, and great inconsistencies in theirdoctrines; they frequently made unfair use of the subtile dialecticscalled scholastics (la scolastique), and they frequently assigned toomuch to the master's authority (l'autorite du maitre); but Christianfaith, more or less properly understood and explained, and adhesion tothe facts, to the religious and moral precepts, and to the primitive andessential testimonies of Christianity, are always to be found at thebottom of their systems and their disputes. Whether they be pantheistseven or sceptics, it is in an atmosphere of Christianity that they liveand that their thoughts are developed. 

A breath from the grand old pagan life of Greece and Rome heaved forthagain and spread, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, throughoutthis Christian atmosphere of the middle ages. Greek and Roman antiquity, with its ideas and its works, had never been completely forgottentherein. Aristotle and Plato, Seneca, Epictetus, Boetius, and otherancients had taken their place amongst the studies and philosophicalnotions of that period; but their influence had been limited toprofessional scholars, and had remained without any social influence. In spite of the stateliness of its ceremonies and the charm of itstraditions, paganism had never been, in plain truth, a religion; faithand piety had held but a paltry place in it; instead of a God, thecreator and acting sovereign of the world, its gods were of humaninvention and human nature: their adventures and the parts they playedwere pleasing to the imagination, but gave no sort of satisfaction to thedeep instincts and higher aspirations of the soul. Christianity is Godhovering over, watching over, and descending to earth; paganism is earth, its children and the stories of their lives transported, with their vicesrather than their virtues, to heaven. Olympus was peopled with nothingbut personages belonging to popular tradition, mythology, or allegory;and in the fifteenth century this mythology was in full course of decay;all that it might have commanded of credence or influence had vanished;there remained of it nothing but barren memories or a contemptuousincredulity. Speaking from the religious point of view, the Renaissancewas but a resurrection of paganism dying out before the presence of theChristian world, which was troubled and perplexed, but full of life andfuturity. 

The religious question thus set on one side, the Renaissance was a greatand happy thing, which restored to light and honor the works and gloriesof the Greek and Roman communities, those two communities which, inhistory anterior to the sixteenth century, had reached the greatestprosperity and splendor under a civil regimen, in the midst of a more orless stormy but real and strong political freedom, and had attained bythe mere development of human thought and human energy the highest degreeof civilization yet known in Europe, and, one would be inclined to say, in the world. The memorials and monuments of this civilization, whichwere suddenly removed, at the fall of the Greek empire, to Italy firstand then from Italy to France, and throughout the whole of WesternEurope, impressed with just admiration people as well as princes, andinspired them with the desire of marching forward in their turn in thisattractive and glorious career. This kind of progress, arrived at by theroad of imitation, often costs dear in the interruption it causes to thenatural course of the peculiar and original genius of nations; but thisis the price at which the destinies of diverse communities get linkedtogether and interpenetrate, and the general progress of humanity isaccomplished. 

It was not only in religious questions and by their philosopho-theologians that the middle ages, before the Renaissance, displayed theiractivity and fecundity. In literature and in art, in history and inpoesy, in architecture and in sculpture, they had produced great andbeautiful works, which were quite worthy of surviving, and have, in fact, survived the period of their creation. Here, too, the Renaissance ofGreek and Roman antiquity came in, and altered the originality of theearliest productions of the middle ages, and gave to literature and toart in France a new direction. It will be made a point here to note withsome exactness the peculiar and native character of French literature atits origin. It is a far cry from the middle ages to the time of LouisXIV. ; but the splendors of the most lovely days do not efface the charmbelonging to the glimmerings of dawn. 

The first amongst the literary creations of the middle ages is that ofthe French language itself. When we pass from the ninth to thethirteenth century, from the oath of Charles the Bald and Louis theGermanic at Strasbourg, in 842, to the account of the conquest ofConstantinople in 1203, given by Geoffrey de Villehardouin, seneschal ofChampagne, what a space has been traversed, what progress accomplished inthe language of France! It was, at first, nothing but a coarse andirregular mixture of German and Latin, the former still in a barbarousand the latter already in a corrupted state; and amidst this mixtureappear some fragments of the Celtic idioms of Gaul, without any literarytradition to regulate this mass of incoherence and confusion. As forfollowing the development, regulation, and transformation of the Frenchnational language during these three centuries, and marking how it issuedfrom this formless and vulgar chaos, there are not facts and documentsenough for our guidance throughout that long travail; but when thethirteenth century begins, when Villehardouin tells the tale of thecrusade, which put, for seventy years, Constantinople and the Greekempire of the East in the hands of the Latin and German warriors of theWest, the French language, though still rude and somewhat fluctuating, appears already rich, varied, and capable of depicting with fidelity andenergy events, ideas, characters, and the passions of men. There we haveFrench prose and French poesy in their simple and lusty youth; the_Conquest of Constantinople_ by Geoffrey de Villehardouin, and the _Songof Roland_ by the unknown poet who collected and put together in the formof an epopee the most heroic amongst the legends of the reign ofCharlemagne, are the first great and beautiful monuments of Frenchliterature in the middle ages. 

The words are French literature; and of that alone is there any intentionof speaking here. The middle ages had, up to the sixteenth century, aLatin literature; philosophers, theologians, and chroniclers all wrote inLatin. The philosophers and theologians have already been spoken of. Amongst the chroniclers some deserve the name of historians; not only dothey alone make us acquainted with the history of their times, but theysometimes narrate it with real talent as observers and writers. Gregoryof Tours, Eginhard, William of Tyre, Guibert of Nogent, William ofJumieges, and Orderic Vital are worthy of every attention from thosewhose hearts are set upon thoroughly understanding the history of theperiods and the provinces of which those laborers of the middle ageshave, in Latin, preserved the memorials. The chief of those works havebeen gathered together and translated in a special collection bearing thename of Guizot. But it is with the reign of Francis I. That, to bid atruce to further interruption, we commence the era of the real grandliterature of France, that which has constituted and still constitutesthe pride and the noble pleasure of the French public. Of that alone wewould here denote the master-works and the glorious names, putting themcarefully at the proper dates and places in the general course of events;a condition necessary for making them properly understood and theirinfluence properly appreciated. As to the reign of Francis I. , however, it must be premised as follows: several of the most illustrious of Frenchwriters, in poesy and prose, Ronsard, Montaigne, Bodin, and StephenPasquier, were born during that king's lifetime and during the first halfof the sixteenth century; but it is to the second half of that centuryand to the first of the seventeenth that they belong by the glory oftheir works and of their influence; their place in history will beassigned to them when we enter upon the precise epoch at which theyperformed and shone. We will at present confine ourselves to the greatsurvivors of the middle ages, whether in prose or poesy, and to the menwho shed lustre on the reign of Francis I. Himself, and led Frenchliterature in its first steps along the road on which it entered at thatperiod. 

The middle ages bequeathed to French literature four prose-writers whomwe cannot hesitate to call great historians: Villehardouin, Joinville, Froissart, and Commynes. Geoffrey de Villehardouin, after having takenpart, as negotiator and soldier, in the crusade which terminated in thecapture of Constantinople, and having settled in Thessaly, atMessinopolis, as holder of considerable fiefs, with the title of Marshalof Romania (Roumelia), employed his leisure in writing a history of thisgreat exploit. He wrote with a dignified simplicity, epic and at thesame time practical, speaking but little of himself, narrating facts withthe precision of one who took part in them, and yet without uselessdetail or personal vanity, finding pleasure in doing justice to hiscomrades, amongst others the veteran Doge of Venice, Henry Dandolo, andsometimes intermingling with his story the reflections of a judicious andsincere Christian, without any pious fanaticism and without ostentation. Joinville wrote his History of St. Louis at the request of Joan ofNavarre, wife of Philip the Handsome, and five years after that queen'sdeath; his manuscripts have it thus: "The things which I personally sawand heard were written in the year of grace 1309, in the month ofOctober. " He was then eighty-five, and he dedicated his book to Louis leHutin (the quarreller), great-grandson of St. Louis. More lively andmore familiar in style than Villehardouin, he combines the vivid andnatural impressions of youth with an old man's fond clinging to thememories of his long life; he likes to bring himself upon the scene, especially as regards his relations towards and his conversations withSt. Louis, for whom he has a tender regard and admiration, at the sametime that he maintains towards him a considerable independence of ideas, conduct, and language; he is a valiant and faithful knight, who forms avery sensible opinion as to the crusade in which he takes part, and whowill not enter upon it a second time even to follow the king to whom heis devoted, but whose pious fanaticism and warlike illusions he does notshare; his narrative is at one and the same time very full of himselfwithout any pretension, and very spirited without any show of passion, and fraught with a graceful and easy carelessness which charms the readerand all the while inspires confidence in the author's veracity. Froissart is an insatiable Fry, who revels in all the sights of his day, events and personages, wars and galas, adventures of heroism orgallantry, and who is incessantly gadding about through all the dominionsand all the courts of Europe, everywhere seeking his own specialamusement in the satisfaction of his curiosity. He has himself given anaccount of the manner in which he collected and wrote his Chronicles. "Ponder, " says he, "amongst yourselves, such of ye as read me, or willread me, or have read me, or shall hear me read, how I managed to get andput together so many facts whereof I treat in so many parts. And, for toinform you of the truth, I began young, at the age of twenty years, and Icame into the world amidst the deeds and adventures, and I did alwaystake great delight in them, more than in aught else. And God gave mesuch grace that I was well with all parties, and with the households ofthe kings, and, especially, the household of King Edward of England, andthe noble queen his wife, Madame Philippa of Hainault, unto whom, in myyouth, I was clerk, and I did minister unto her with beautiful dittiesand amorous treatises. And for love of the service of the noble andvaliant dame with whom I was, all the other lords, kings, dukes, counts, barons, and knights, of whatsoever nation they might be, did love me andhear me and see me gladly, and brought me great profit. . . . Thus, wherever I went, I made inquiry of the old knights and squires who hadbeen at deeds of arms, and who were specially fit to speak thereof, andalso of certain heralds in good credit for to verify and justify allmatters. Thus have I gotten together this lofty and noble history. "This picture of Froissart and his work by his own hand would beincomplete without the addition of a characteristic anecdote. In one ofhis excursions in search of adventures and stories, "he fell in atPamiers with a good knight, Messire Espaing of Lyons, who had been in allthe wars of the time, and managed the great affairs of princes. They setout to travel together, Messire Espaing telling his comrade what he knewabout the history of the places whereby they passed, and Froissart takinggreat care to ride close to him for to hear his words. Every eveningthey halted at hostels where they drained flagons full of white wine asgood as the good canon had ever drunk in his life; then, after drinking, so soon as the knight was weary of relating, the chronicler wrote downjust the substance of his stories, so as to better leave remembrance ofthem for time to come, as there is no way of retaining so certain aswriting down. "

There is no occasion to add to these quotations; they give the mostcorrect idea that can be formed of Froissart's chronicles and theirliterary merit as well as their historical value. 

Philip de Commynes is quite another affair, and far more than Froissart, nay, than Joinville and Villehardouin. He is a politician proficient inthe understanding and handling of the great concerns and great personagesof his time. He served Charles the Rash and Louis XI. ; and, after sotrying an experience, he depicted them and passed judgment upon them withimperturbable clearsightedness and freedom of thought. With the recitalof events, as well as the portrayal of character, he mingles here andthere the reflections, expressed in precise, firm, and temperatelanguage, of a profound moralist, who sets before himself no other aimbut that of giving his thoughts full utterance. He has already beenspoken of in the second volume of this History, in connection with hisleaving the Duke of Burgundy's service for that of Louis XI. , and withhis remarks upon the virtues as well as the vices of that able butunprincipled despot. We will not go again over that ground. As a king'sadviser, Commynes would have been as much in place at the side of LouisXIV. As at that of Louis XI. ; as a writer, he, in the fifteenth century, often made history and politics speak a language which the seventeenthcentury would not have disowned. 

Let us pass from the prose-writers of the middle ages to their poets. 

The grand name of poesy is here given only to poetical works which havelived beyond their cradles and have taken rank amongst the treasures ofthe national literature. Thanks to sociability of manners, vivacity ofintellect, and fickleness of taste, light and ephemeral poesy hasobtained more success and occupied more space in France than in any othercountry; but there are successes which give no title to enter into apeople's history; quality and endurance of renown are even more requisitein literature than in politics; and many a man whose verses have beenvery much relished and cried up in his lifetime has neither deserved norkept in his native land the beautiful name of poet. Setting aside, ofcourse, the language and poems of the troubadours of Southern France, weshall find, in French poesy previous to the Renaissance, only three workswhich, through their popularity in their own time, still live in thememory of the erudite, and one only which, by its grand character and itssuperior beauties, attests the poetical genius of the middle ages and canclaim national rights in the history of France. _The Romance of theRose_ in the erotic and allegorical style, the _Romances of Renart_ inthe satirical, and the _Farce of Patelin, _ a happy attempt in the line ofcomedy, though but little known nowadays to the public, are still andwill remain subjects of literary study. _The Song of Roland_ alone is anadmirable sample of epic poesy in France, and the only monument ofpoetical genius in the middle ages which can have a claim to nationalappreciation in the nineteenth century. It is almost a pity not toreproduce here the whole of that glorious epopee, as impressive from theforcible and pathetic simplicity of its sentiments and language as fromthe grandeur of the scene and the pious heroism of the actors in it. Itis impossible, however, to resist the pleasure of quoting some fragmentsof it. The best version to refer to is that which has been given almostword for word, from the original text, by M. Leon Gaultier, in hisbeautiful work, so justly crowned by the _Academie des Inscriptions etBelles-lettres, on Lee Epopees Francaises_. 

In 778 Charlemagne was returning from a great expedition in Spain, duringwhich, after having taken Pampeluna, he had failed before Saragossa, andhad not considered himself called upon to prolong his struggle with theArab Mussulmans. He with the main body of his army had crossed thePyrenees, leaving as rearguard a small division under his nephew Roland, prefect of the Marches of Brittany, Anselm, count of the palace, Oliver, Roland's comrade, Archbishop Turpin, and several other warriors ofrenown. When they arrived at the little valley of Roncesvalles, betweenthe defiles of Sizer and Val Carlos, this rearguard was unexpectedlyattacked by thousands of Basque mountaineers, who were joined bythousands of Arabs eager to massacre and plunder the Christians andFranks, who, indeed, perished to a man in this ambuscade. "The news ofthis disaster, " says Eginhard, in his Annales, "obscured the glory of thesuccesses the king had but lately obtained in Spain. " This fact, withlarge amplifications, became the source of popular legends and songs, which, probably towards the end of the eleventh century, became embodiedin the _Song of Roland, _ attributed, in two manuscripts, but without anycertainty, to a certain Thuroulde (Turold), Abbot of Malmesbury andPeterborough under William the Conqueror. It must suffice to reproducehere only the most beautiful and most characteristic passages of thislittle national epopee, a truly Homeric picture of the quasi-barbaroustimes and manners of knightly Christendom. 

The eighty-second strophe of the poem commences thus:

"'Of Paynim yonder, saw I more, 'Quoth Oliver, 'than e'er beforeThe eye of man hath seenAn hundred thousand are a-field, With helm and hauberk, lance and shield, And pikes and pike-heads gleaming bright;Prepare for fight, a fiercer fightThan ever yet hath been. Blow Olifant, friend Roland, blow, That Charles and all his host may know. '

"To whom Sir Roland in reply:'A madman, then, good faith, were IFor I should lose all countenanceThroughout the pleasant land of FranceNay, rather, facing great and small, I'll smite amain with Durandal, Until the blade, with blood that's spilt, Is crimson to the golden hilt. ''Friend Roland, sound a single blastEre Charles beyond its reach hath passed. ''Forbid it, God, ' cried Roland, then, 'It should be said by living menThat I a single blast did blowFor succor from a Paynim foe!'When Roland sees what moil will be, Lion nor pard so fierce as he. 

"Archbishop Turpin looks around, Then forward pricks to higher groundHe halts, he speaks; the French give ear:'Lords barons, Charles hath left us here, And for our king we're bound to die;For him maintain the Christian cause;Behold! how near the battle draws;Behold! where yonder Paynim lie;Confess to God; and I will giveAbsolvement, that your souls may live. Pure martyrs are ye if ye fall;And Paradise awaits ye all. '

"Down leap the French, on bended kneeThey fall for benison; and heDoth lay on all a penance light--To strike their hardest in the fight. 

"The French have risen to their feet;They leap upon their chargers fleet;Into the defiles rides their chiefOn his good war-horse, Veillantif. O, in his harness he looks grand!On, on he goes with lance on highIts tip is pointed to the sky;It bears a snow-white pennon, andIts golden fringes sweep his hand. He scans the foe with haughty glance, With meek and sweet the men of France'Lords barons, gently, gently ride;Yon Paynim rush to suicide;No king of France could ever boastThe wealth we'll strip from yonder host. 'And as the words die off his lips, Christian and Paynim are at grips. 

"A wondrous fight! The men of FranceThrust fiercely with the burnished lance!O, 'twas a sight of grief and dread, So many wounded, bleeding, dead!On back or face together they, One on another falling, lay!The Paynim cannot choose but yield, And, willy-nilly, quit the fieldThe eager French are on their track, With lances pointed at the back. . . . 

"Then pricketh forth a Saracen, Abyme by name, but worst of menNo faith hath he in God the One, No faith in Holy Mary's Son;As black as melted pitch is he, And not for all Galicia's goldCould he be bribed his hand to holdFrom murder and from treachery;No merry laugh, no sportive mienIn him was ever heard or seen. . . . The good archbishop could not brookOn pagan such as he to look;He saw and fain would strike him dead, And calmly to himself he said, 'Yon pagan, as it seems to me, A grievous heretic must be;'There best to slay him, though I died;Cowards I never could abide. '

"He mounts his steed, won, so they tell, From Denmark's monarch, hight Grosselle;He slew the king and took the steedThe beast is light and built for speed;His hoofs are neat, his legs are clean, His thigh is short, his flanks are lean, His rump is large, his back full height, His mane is yellow, his tail is white;With little ears and tawny head, No steed like him was ever bred. The good archbishop spurs a-field, And smites Abyme upon the shield, His emir's shield, so thickly sownWith many a gem and precious stone, Amethyst and topaz, crystals bright, And red carbuncles flashing light:The shield is shivered by the blow;No longer worth a doit, I trow;Stark dead the emir lies below. 'Ha! bravely struck!' the Frenchmen yell:'Our bishop guards the Cross right well!'

"To Oliver Sir Roland cried, 'Sir comrade, can it be deniedOur bishop is a gallant knight?None better ever saw the light!How he doth strikeWith lance and pike!'Quoth Oliver, 'Then in the fightHaste we to aid him with our might!'And so the battle is renewed:The blows are hard, the melley rude;The Christians suffer soreFour times they charge and all is well, But at the fifth--dread tale to tell--The knights of France are doomed to fall, --All, all her knights; for of them allGod spareth but threescore. But O, their lives they dearly sell!Sir Roland marks what loss is there, And turns him to Sir Oliver'Dear comrade, whom pray God to bless, In God's own name see what distress--Such heaps of vassals lying low--Fair France hath suffered at a blowWell may we weep for her, who's leftA widow, of such lords bereft!And why, O, why art thou not near, Our king, our friend, to aid us here?Say, Oliver, how might we bringOur mournful tidings to the king?'Quoth Oliver, 'I know not, ITo fly were shame; far better die. 'Quoth Roland, 'I my horn will blow, That Charles may hear and Charles may know;And, in the defiles, from their trackThe French, I swear, will hasten back. 'Quoth Oliver, ''Twere grievous shame;'Twould bring a blush to all thy nameWhen I said thus thou scornedst me, And now I will not counsel thee. And shouldst thou blow, 'twere no great blast;Already blood is gushing fastFrom both thine arms. ' 'That well may be, 'Quoth he, 'I struck so lustily!The battle is too strong: I'll blowMine Olifant, that Charles may know. 'Quoth Oliver, 'Had Charles been here, This battle had not cost so dear;But as for yon poor souls, I wis, No blame can rest with them for this. ''Why bear me spite?' Sir Roland said. 'The fault, ' said he, 'lies on thy head. And mark my words; this day will seeThe end of our good company;We twain shall part--not as we met--Full sadly ere yon sun bath set. 'The good archbishop hears the stir, And thither pricks with golden spur;And thus he chides the wrangling lords'Roland, and you, Sir Oliver, Why strive ye with such bitter wordsHorns cannot save you; that is past;But still 'twere best to sound a blast;Let the king come: he'll strike a blowFor vengeance, lest the Paynim foeBack to their homes in triumph go. '

"With pain and dolor, groan and pant, Count Roland sounds his Olifant:The crimson stream shoots from his lips;The blood from bursten temple drips;But far, O, far the echoes ring, And, in the defiles, reach the king;Reach Naymes, and the French array:'Tis Roland's horn, ' the king doth say;'He only sounds when brought to bay. 'How huge the rocks! How dark and steep!The streams are swift! The valleys deep!Out blare the trumpets, one and all, As Charles responds to Roland's call. Round wheels the king, with choler mad, The Frenchmen follow grim and sad;Not one but prays for Roland's life, Till they have joined him in the strife. But ah! what prayer can alter fate?The time is past; too late! too late!As Roland scans both plain and height, And sees how many Frenchmen lieStretched in their mortal agony, He mourns them like a noble knight:'Comrades, God give ye grace to-day, And grant ye Paradise, I pray!No lieges ever fought as they. What a fair land, O France, art thou!But ah! forlorn and widowed now!O Oliver, at least to thee, My brother, I must faithful beBack, comrade mine, back let us go, And charge once more the Paynim foe!'

"When Roland spies the cursed race, More black than ink, without a trace, Save teeth, of whiteness in the face, 'Full certified, ' quoth he, 'am I, That we this very day shall die. Strike, Frenchmen, strike; that's all my mind!''A curse on him who lags behind!'Quoth gallant Oliver; and soDown dash the Frenchmen on the foe. . . . Sir Oliver with failing breath, Knowing his wound is to the death, Doth call to him his friend, his peer, His Roland: 'Comrade, come thou here;To be apart what pain it were!'When Roland marks his friend's distress, His face all pale and colorless, 'My God!' quoth he, 'what's now to do?O my sweet France, what dole for you, Widowed of all your warriors true!You needs must perish!' At such plaint, Upon his steed he falls a-faint. 

"See Roland riding in a swound:And Oliver with mortal wound;With loss of blood so dazed is heHe neither near nor far can seeWhat manner of man a man may be:And, meeting with Sir Roland so, He dealeth him a fearful blowThat splits the gilded helm in twoDown to the very nasal, though, By luck, the skull it cleaves not through. With blank amaze doth Roland gaze, And gently, very gently, says, 'Dear comrade, smit'st thou with intent?Methinks no challenge hath been sentI'm Roland, who doth love thee so. 'Quoth Oliver, 'Thy voice I know, But see thee not; God save thee, friend:I struck thee; prithee pardon me. No hurt have I; and there's an end. 'Quoth Roland, 'And I pardon thee'Fore man and God right willingly. 'They bow the head, each to his brother, And so, in love, leave one another. "

(Oliver dies: Roland and Archbishop Turpin continue the fight. )

"Then Roland takes his horn once more;His blast is feebler than before, But still it reaches the emperorHe hears it, and he halts to shout, 'Let clarions, one and all, ring out!'Then sixty thousand clarions ring, And rocks and dales set echoing. And they, too, hear--the pagan pack;They force the rising laughter back;'Charles, Charles, ' they cry, 'is on our track!'They fly; and Roland stands alone--Alone, afoot; his steed is gone--Brave Veillantif is gone, and so, He, willy-nilly, afoot must go. Archbishop Turpin needs his aid:The golden helm is soon unlaced, The light, white hauberk soon unbraced;And gently, gently down he laidOn the green turf the bishop's head;And then beseechingly he said, --"'Ah! noble sir, your leave I craveThe men we love, our comrades brave, All, all are dead; they must not lieHere thus neglected; wherefore IWill seek for them, each where he lies, And lay them out before your eyes. ''Go, ' said the bishop, 'and speed be thineThank God! the field is thine and mine. '

"Sir Roland searched the plain, and foundHis comrade's body on the ground;Unto his heart he strained it tight, And bore it off, as best he might. Upon a shield he lays his friendBeside the rest, and, for an end, The bishop gives them, all and one, Absolvement and a benison. As Roland marks them lying there, His peers all dead--and Oliver, His mighty grief he cannot stay, And, willy-nilly, swoons away. 

"The bishop feeleth grief profoundTo see Sir Roland in a swound. Through Roncesvalles, well he knows, A stream of running water flows, And fain would he a journey makeTo fetch thereof for Roland's sake, He totters forth; he makes essay;But all! his feeble limbs give way;Breaks his great heart; he falls and lies, Face downward, in death's agonies!So Charles's soldier-priest is deadHe who with mighty lance and swordAnd preacher's craft incessant warredAgainst the scorners of the Lord:God's benediction on his head!Count Roland laid him to his restBetween his shoulders, on his breast, He crossed the hands so fine and fair, And, as his country's customs were, He made oration o'er him there'Ah! noble knight, of noble race, I do commend thee to God's graceSure never man of mortal birthServed Him so heartily on earth. Thou hadst no peer in any climeTo stoutly guard the Christian causeAnd turn bad men to Christian laws, Since erst the great Apostles' time. Now rest thy soul from dolor free, And Paradise be oped to thee!'"

(A last encounter takes place: a Saracen left wounded on thebattle-field, seeing Roland in a swoon, gets up, and approaches him, saying, "Vanquished, he is vanquished, the nephew of Charles! There ishis sword, which I will carry off to Arabia!")

"And as he makes to draw the steel, A something doth Sir Roland feel;He opes his eyes, says nought but this, 'Thou art not one of us, I wis, 'Raises the horn he would not quit, And cracks the pagan's skull with it. . . And then the touch of death that stealsDown, down from head to heart he feelsUnder yon pine he hastes awayOn the green turf his head to layPlacing beneath him horn and sword, He turns towards the Paynim horde, And, there, beneath the pine, he seesA vision of old memoriesA thought of realms he helped to win, Of his sweet France, of kith and kin, And Charles, his lord, who nurtured him. He sighs, and tears his eyes bedim. Then, not unmindful of his case, Once more he sues to God for grace'O Thou, true Father of us all, Who hatest lies, who erst did callThe buried Lazarus from the grave, And Daniel from the lions save, From all the perils I deserveFor sinful life my soul preserve!'Then to his God outstretcheth heThe glove from his right hand; and, see!St. Gabriel taketh it instantly. God sends a cherub-angel bright, And Michael, Saint of Peril hight;And Gabriel comes; up, up they rise, And bear the Count to Paradise. "

It is useless to carry these quotations any further; they are sufficientto give an idea of the grand character of the poem in which so manytraits of really touching affection and so many bursts of patrioticdevotion and pious resignation are mingled with the merest brute courage. Such, in its chief works, philosophical, historical, and poetical, wasthe literature which the middle ages bequeathed to the reign ofFrancis I. In history only, and in spite of the new character assumedafterwards by the French language, this literature has had the honor ofpreserving its nationality and its glory. Villehardouin, Joinville, Froissart, and Commynes have remained great writers. In philosophy andin poesy a profound revolution was approaching; the religious reform andthe fine literary genius as well as the grand French language of theseventeenth century were preparing to rise above the intellectualhorizon. But between the moment when such advances dawn and that whenthey burst forth there is nearly always a period of uncertain andunfruitful transition: and such was the first half of the sixteenthcentury, that is to say, the actual reign of Francis I. ; it is oftencalled the reign of the Renaissance, which certainly originated in hisreign, but it did not grow and make any display until after him; thereligious, philosophical, and poetical revolution, Calvin, Montaigne, andRonsard, born in the earlier half of the seventeenth century, did not doanything that exercised any power until the later. One single poet, athird-rate one, Clement Marot, attained lustre under Francis I. Rabelaisis the only great prose writer who belongs strictly to that period. Thescholars, the learned critics of what had been left by antiquity ingeneral and by Greek and Roman antiquity in particular, Bude (Budaeus), J. C. Scaliger; Muretus, Danes (Danesius), Arnyot, Ramus (Peter laRamee), Robert Estienne (Stephanus), Vatable (Watebled), Cujas, andTurnebius make up the tale of literature specially belonging to andoriginating in the reign of Francis I. , just as the foundation of theCollege Royal, which became the College de France, is his chief personalclaim to renown in the service of science and letters. 

Let us return to the poets of the actual reign of Francis I. The firstwe encounter speaks thus of himself:--

"I am not rich; that, certes, I confess;But, natheless, well born and nobly bred;I'm read by both the people and noblesse, Throughout the world: 'That's Clement, ' it is said. Men live their span; but I shall ne'er be dead. And thou--thou hast thy meadow, well, and spring, Wood, field, and castle--all that wealth can bring. There's just that difference 'twixt thee and me. But what I am thou couldst not be: the thingThou art, why, anybody else might be. "

Now who was this who, with perfect confidence, indulged in such proudlanguage? Was it a Homer, a Dante, a Corneille, one of those greatpoetical geniuses whose works can move a whole people, are addressed toall the world, and "will live forever"? No; it was a poet of the courtand of the fashionable world of Paris, of Blois, and of Amboise, in thesixteenth century, a groom-of-the-chamber to Marguerite de Valois, andone of Francis I. 's favorites, who had written elegies, eclogues, epistles, complaints, roundelays, and epigrams on the incidents and forhis masters and mistresses of the hour; France owed to him none of thosegreat poetical works consecrated to description of the grand destiniesand grand passions of man, and to the future as well as to the writer'sown time. 

[Illustration: Clement Marot----162]

Clemont Marot, the son of a petty burgess of Cahors, named John Marot, himself a poet in a small way, who had lived some time at the court ofLouis XII. , under the patronage of Queen Anne of Bretagne, had a right tostyle himself, "well born and nobly bred;" many of the petty burgesses ofCahors were of noble origin, and derived therefrom certain privileges;John Marot, by a frugal and regular life, had acquired and left to hisson two estates in the neighborhood of Cahors, where, no doubt, Clementresided but little, for he lived almost constantly at the court, orwandering about Europe, in every place where at one time the fortunes ofthe king his protector and at another the storm of the nascent religiousreform left him stranded willy-nilly. He was present in 1525 at thebattle of Pavia, where he was wounded and taken prisoner with his king, but soon released, since the Imperialists let go on easy terms gentlemenof whom it was impossible to make a rich booty. From that time we do notmeet any more with Clement Marot in war or politics; to Marguerite deValois, to adventures of gallantry, and to success in his mundane line ofpoesy his life was thenceforth devoted. The scandal of history has oftenbeen directed against his relations with his royal patroness; but thereseems to be no real foundation for such a suspicion; the manners of thesixteenth century admitted of intimacies in language, and sometimes evenof familiarities in procedure, contrasting strangely with demonstrationsof the greatest respect, nay, humility. Clement Marot was the king ofpoesy and set the fashion of wit in his time; Marguerite had a generousand a lively sympathy with wit, talent, success, renown; the princess andthe poet were mutually pleased with and flattered one another; and theliberties allowed to sympathy and flattery were great at that time, butfar less significant than they would be in our day. 

What were the cause, the degree, and the real value of this success andthis renown of which Clement Marot made so much parade, and for which hiscontemporaries gave him credit? What change, what progress effected byhim, during his lifetime, in French literature and the French languagewon for him the place he obtained and still holds in the opinion of thelearned?

A poet who no more than Clement Marot produced any great poetical work, and was very different from him in their small way, Francis Villon, infact, preceded him by about three quarters of a century. The mostdistinguished amongst the literary critics of our time have discussed thequestion as to which of the two, Villon or Marot, should be regarded asthe last poet of the middle ages and the first of modern France. M. Sainte-Beuve, without attempting to precisely solve that littleproblem, has distinguished and characterized the two poets with so muchof truth and tact that there can be no hesitation about borrowing hiswords: "Was Villon, " is the question he puts to himself, "an originator?Did he create a style of poesy? Had he any idea of a literary reaction, as we should say nowadays? What is quite certain is, that he possessedoriginal talent; that amidst all the execrable tricks wherein hedelighted and wherein he was a master, he possessed the sacred spark. . . . A licentious scamp of a student, bred at some shop in the Citeor the Place Maubert, he has a tone which, at least as much as that ofRegnier, has a savor of the places the author frequented. The beautieswhom he celebrates--and I blush for him--are none else than _la blancheSavetiere_ (the fair cobbleress), or _la gente Saul cissiere, du coin_(the pretty Sausage girl at the corner). But he has invented for some ofthose natural regrets which incessantly recur in respect of vanishedbeauty and the flight of years a form of expression, truthful, charming, and airy, which goes on singing forever in the heart and ear of whosoeverhas once heard it. He has flashes, nothing more than flashes, ofmelancholy. . . . It is in reading the verses of Clement Marot thatwe have, for the first time as it seems to me, a very clear and distinctfeeling of having got out from the circumbendibus of the old language, from the Gallic tangle. We are now in France, in the land and amidst thelanguage of France, in the region of genuine French wit, no longer thatof the boor, or of the student, or of the burgess, but of the court andgood society. Good society, in poesy, was born with Marot, with FrancisI. , and his sister Marguerite, with the Renaissance: much will still haveto be done to bring it to perfection, but it exists and will never ceaseagain. . . . Marot, a poet of wits rather than of genius or of greattalent, but full of grace and breeding, who has no passion, but is notdevoid of sensibility, has a way of his own of telling and saying things;he has a turn of his own; he is, in a word, the agreeable man, thegentleman-like man, who is bound to be pleasant and amusing, and whodischarges his duty with an easy air and unexceptionable gallantry. "

There we have exactly the new character which Marot, coming betweenVillon and Ronsard, gave in the sixteenth century to French poesy. Wemay be more exacting than M. Sainte-Beuve; we may regret that Marot, whilst rescuing it from the streets, confined it too much to the court;the natural and national range of poesy is higher and more extensive thanthat; the Hundred Years' War and Joan of Arc had higher claims. But itis something to have delivered poesy from coarse vulgarity, andintroduced refinement into it. Clement Marot rendered to the Frenchlanguage, then in labor of progression, and, one might say, of formation, eminent service: he gave it a naturalness, a clearness, an easy swing, and, for the most part, a correctness which it had hitherto lacked. Itwas reserved for other writers, in verse and prose, to give it boldness, the richness that comes of precision, elevation, and grandeur. 

In 1534, amidst the first violent tempest of reform in France, ClementMarot, accused of heresy, prudently withdrew and went to seek an asylumat Ferrara, under the protection of the duchess, Renee of France, daughter of Louis XII. He there met Calvin, who already held a highposition amongst the Reformers, and who was then engaged on a translationof the Psalms in verse. The reformer talked to the poet about this grandHebrew poesy, which, according to M. Villemain's impression, "hasdefrayed in sublime coin the demands of human imagination. " Marot, onreturning to France, found the College Royal recently instituted there, and the learned Vatable [Francis Watebled, born at Gamaches, in Picardy, died at Paris in 1547] teaching Hebrew with a great attendance of pupilsand of the curious. The professor engaged the poet to translate thePsalms, he himself expounding them to him word by word. Marot translatedthirty of them, and dedicated them to Francis I. , who not only acceptedthe dedication, but recommended the work and the author to Charles V. , who was at that time making a friendly passage through France on his wayto put down the insurrection at Ghent. "Charles V. Accepted the saidtranslation graciously" [as appears by a letter in 1559 to Catherine de'Medici from Villemadon, one of Marguerite of Navarre's confidentialservants], "commended it both by words and by a present of two hundreddoubloons, which he made to Marot, thus giving him courage to translatethe rest of the Psalms, and praying him to send him as soon as possiblethe Psalm _Confitemini Domino, quoniam bonus_ [Trust in the Lord, for Heis good], so fond was he of it. " Singular fellow-feeling between CharlesV. And his great adversary Luther, who said of that same psalm, "It ismy friend; it has saved me in many a strait from which emperor, kings, sages, nor saints could have delivered me!" Clement Marot, thus aidedand encouraged in this work which gave pleasure to Francis I. And CharlesV. , and must have been still more interesting to Calvin and Luther, prosecuted his work and published in 1541 the first thirty psalms; threeyears afterwards, in 1543, he added twenty others, and dedicated thecollection "to the ladies of France, " in an epistle wherein the followingverses occur:

"Happy the man whose favored earIn golden days to come shall hearThe ploughman, as he tills the ground, The tarter, as he drives his round, The shopman, as his task he plies, With psalms or sacred melodiesWhiling the hours of toil away!O, happy he who hears the layOf shepherd and of shepherdess, As in the woods they sing and bless, And make the rocks and pools proclaimWith them their great Creator's name!O, can ye brook that God inviteThem before you to such delight?Begin, ladies, begin! . . . "

A century after Marot's time, in 1649, a pious and learned Catholic, Godeau, Bishop of Grasse and member of the nascent French Academy, was inhis turn translating the Psalms, and rendered full justice to the laborsof the poet, his predecessor, and to the piety of the Reformers, in thefollowing terms "Those whose separation from the church we deplore haverendered the version they make use of famous by the pleasing airs thatlearned musicians set them to when they were composed. To know them byheart is, amongst them, a sign of the communion to which they belong, andin the towns in which they are most numerous the airs may be heard comingfrom the mouths of artisans, and in the country from those of tillers. "

In 1555, eight years after the death of Francis I. , Estienne Pasquierwrote to Ronsard, "In good faith, there was never seen in France such aglut of poets. I fear that in the long run people will weary of them. But it is a vice peculiar to us that as soon as we see anythingsucceeding prosperously for any one, everybody wants to join in. "Estienne Pasquier's fear was much better grounded after the death ofFrancis I. , and when Ronsard had become the head of the poet-world, thanit would have been in the first half of the sixteenth century. Duringthe reign of Francis I. And after the date of Clement Marot, there is nopoet of any celebrity to speak of, unless we except Francis I. Himselfand his sister Marguerite; and it is only in compliment to royalty's namethat they need be spoken of. They, both of them, had evidently a maniafor versifying, even in their most confidential communications, for manyof their letters to one another, those during the captivity of Francis I. At Madrid amongst the rest, are written in verse; but their verses aredevoid of poesy; they are prose, often long-winded and frigid, andsometimes painfully labored. There is, however, a distinction to be madebetween the two correspondents. In the letters and verses of Margueritethere is seen gleaming forth here and there a sentiment of truth andtenderness, a free and graceful play of fancy. We have three collectionsof her writings: 1. Her _Heptameron, ou les Sept Journees de la Reine deNavarre, _ a collection of sixty-eight tales more or less gallant, published for the first time in 1558, without any author's name; 2. Her_OEuvres poetiques, _ which appeared at Lyons in 1547 and 1548, inconsequence of her being alive, under the title of _Les Marguerites de laMarguerite des Princesses_ (the Pearls of the Pearl of Princesses), andof which one of her grooms of the chamber was editor; in addition towhich there is a volume of _Poesies inedites, _ collected by order ofMarguerite herself, but written by the hand of her secretary John Frotte, and preserved at Paris amongst the manuscripts of the Bibliothequenationale; 3. The Collection of her Letters, published in 1841, by M. F. Genin. This last collection is, morally as well as historically, themost interesting of the three. As for Francis I. Himself, there islittle, if anything, known of his posies beyond those which have beeninserted in the _Documents relatifs a sa Captivite a Madrid, _ publishedin 1847 by M. Champollion-Figeac; some have an historical value, eitheras regards public events or Francis I. 's relations towards his mother, his sister, and his mistresses; the most important is a long account ofhis campaign, in 1525, in Italy, and of the battle of Pavia; but theking's verses have even less poetical merit than his sister's. 

Francis I. 's good will did more for learned and classical literature thanfor poesy. Attention has already been drawn to the names of theprincipal masters in the great learned and critical school which devoteditself, in this reign, to the historical, chronological, philological, biographical, and literary study of Greek and Roman antiquity, both Paganand Christian. It is to the labors of this school and to their resultsthat the word Renaissance is justly applied, and that the honor isespecially to be referred of the great intellectual progress made in thesixteenth century. Francis I. Contributed to this progress, first by theintelligent sympathy he testified towards learned men of letters, andafterwards by the foundation of the _College Royal, _ an establishment ofa special, an elevated, and an independent sort, where professors found aliberty protected against the routine, jealousy, and sometimesintolerance of the University of Paris and the Sorbonne. The king andhis sister Marguerite often went to pay a visit, at his printing-place inSt. Jean de Beauvais Street, to Robert Estienne (Stephanus), the mostcelebrated amongst that family of printer-publishers who had so much todo with the resurrection of ancient literature. It is said that one daythe king waited a while in the work-room, so as not to disturb RobertEstienne in the correction of a proof. 

[Illustration: Francis I. Waits for Robert Estienne----168]

When the violence bred of religious quarrels finally forced the learnedand courageous printer to expatriate himself, his first care was to say, at the head of his apology, "When I take account of the war I havecarried on with the Sorbonne for a space of twenty years or thereabouts, I cannot sufficiently marvel how so small and broken-down a creature as Iam had strength to maintain it. When I was seen being harried on allsides, how often have I been the talk on street and at banquets, whilstpeople said, 'It is all over with him; he is caught, he cannot escape;even if the king would, he could not save him. ' . . . I wish tojustify myself against the reproach of having left my country, to thehurt of the public weal, and of not having acknowledged the greatliberality displayed towards me by the king; since it was a high honorfor me that the king, having deigned to make me his printer, always keptme under his protection, in the face of all who envied me and wished meill, and never ceased to aid me graciously in all sorts of ways. "

The _College Royal, _ no less than Robert Estienne, met with obstacles andill-wishers; it was William Bude (Budeaus) who first suggested the ideaof the college to the king, primarily with the limited purpose ofsecuring instruction in Greek and Hebrew, after the fashion of theCollege of Young Grecians and the College of the Three Languages (theTrilingual, Hebrew, Greek, and Latin), of which the former was founded atRome by Leo X. , the latter at Louvain by Canon Jerome Busleyden. FrancisI. Readily surrendered himself to more magnificent projects; he wasanxious to erect a splendid building on the site of the Hotel de Nesle, and to put Erasmus at the head of the College Royal. War incessantlyrenewed and the nascent religious troubles interfered with hisresolutions; but William Bude never ceased to urge upon the king anextension of the branches of learning in the establishment; and after thePeace of Cambrai in 1529, chairs of mathematics, Oriental languages, Latin oratory, Greek and Latin philosophy, and medicine were successivelyadded to the chairs of Hebrew and Greek which had been the originalnucleus of instruction in the College Royal. It continued to be anobject of suspicion to the Sorbonne and of hesitation in the Parliament, to which royalty had recourse against the attacks of its adversaries. But it had no lack of protectors, nevertheless: the Cardinal of Lorraine, Charles IX. , and Catherine de' Medici herself supported it in its trials;and Francis I. Had the honor of founding a great school of the highersort of education, a school, which, throughout all the religiousdissensions and all the political revolutions of France, has kept itsposition and independence, whatever may have been elsewhere, in thematter of public instruction, the system and the regimen of stateestablishments. 

A few words have already been said about the development of the arts, especially architecture and sculpture, in the middle ages, and of thecharacteristics, original and national, Gallic and Christian, whichbelonged to them at this period, particularly in respect of theirinnumerable churches, great and small. A foreglance has been given ofthe alteration which was brought about in those characteristics, at thedate of the sixteenth century, by the Renaissance, at the same time thatthe arts were made to shine with fresh and vivid lustre. Francis I. Wastheir zealous and lavish patron; he revelled in building and embellishingpalaces, castles, and hunting-boxes, St. Germain, Chenonceaux, Fontainebleau, and Chambord; his chief councillors, Chancellor Duprat andAdmiral Bonnivet, shared his taste and followed his example; severalprovinces, and the banks of the Loire especially, became covered withsplendid buildings, bearing the marks of a complicated character whichsmacked of imitations from abroad. Italy, which, from the time ofCharles VIII. And Louis XII. , had been the object of French kings'ambition and the scene of French wars, became also the school of Frenchart; national and solemn Christian traditions were blended, whilst takingan altered form, with the Italian resuscitation of Greek and Romanantiquity. Italian artists, such as Rosso of Florence, Primatice ofBologna, Niccolo dell' Abbate of Modena, and Benvenuto Cellini ofFlorence, came and settled in France, and there inspired and carried outthe king's projects and works. Leonardo da Vinci, full of years anddiscontented with his Italian patrons, accompanied Francis I. To France, and died in his arms at the castle of Clou, near Amboise, where he hadfixed his residence. Some great French artists, such as the painter JohnCousin and the sculptor John Goujon, strove ably to uphold the originalcharacter and merits of French art; but they could not keep themselvesentirely aloof from the influence of this brilliant Italian art, forwhich Francis I. 's successors, even more than he, showed a zealous andrefined attachment, but of which he was, in France, the first patron. 

We will not quit the first half of the sixteenth century and the literaryand philosophical Renaissance which characterizes that period, withoutassigning a place therein at its proper date and in his proper rank tothe name, the life, and the works of the man who was not only its mostoriginal and most eminent writer, but its truest and most vividrepresentative, Rabelais. 

[Illustration: Rabelais----171]

Francis Rabelais, who was born at Chinon in 1495, and died at Paris in1553, wandered during those fifty-eight years about France and Europefrom town to town, from profession to profession, from good to bad andfrom bad to good estate; first a monk of the Cordeliers; then, with PopeClement VII. 's authority, a Benedictine; then putting off the monk'shabit and assuming that of a secular priest in order to roam the world, "incurring, " as he himself says, "in this vagabond life, the doublestigma of suspension from orders and apostasy;" then studying medicine atMontpellier; then medical officer of the great hospital at Lyons, but, before long, superseded in that office "for having been twice absentwithout leave;" then staying at Lyons as a corrector of proofs, acompiler of almanacs, an editor of divers books for learned patrons, andcommencing the publication of his _Vie tres-horrifique du grandGargantua, pere de Pantagruel_ (Most horrifying life of the greatGargantua, father of Pantagruel), which was immediately proceeded againstby the Sorbonne "as an obscene tale. " On grounds of prudence ornecessity Rabelais then quitted Lyons and set out for Rome as physicianattached to the household of Cardinal John Du Bellay, Bishop of Paris andenvoy from France to the Holy See; the which bishop "having relished theprofound learning and competence of Rabelais, and having, besides, discovered in him fine humor and a conversation capable of diverting theblackest melancholy, retained him near his person in the capacity ofphysician in ordinary to himself and all his family, and held him everafterwards in high esteem. " After two years passed at Rome, and afterrendering all sorts of service in his patron's household, Rabelais, "feeling that the uproarious life he was leading and his licentious deedswere unworthy of a man of religion and a priest, " asked Pope Paul III. For absolution, and at the same time permission to resume the habit ofSt. Benedict, and to practise "for piety's sake, without hope of gain andin any and every place, " the art of medicine, wherein he had taken, hesaid, the degrees of bachelor, licentiate, and doctor. A brief of PopePaul III. 's, dated January 17, 1536, granted his request. Seventeenmonths afterwards, on the 22d of May, 1537, Rabelais reappears atMontpellier, and there receives, it is said, the degree of doctor, whichhe had already taken upon himself to assume. He pursues his life ofmingled science and adventure, gives lessons, and gads about so much that"his doctor's gown and cap are preserved at Montpellier, according totradition, all dirty and torn, but objects of respectful reminiscence. "In 1538 Rabelais leaves Montpellier, and goes to practise medicine atNarbonne, Castres, and Lyons. In 1540 he tires of it, resumes, as he hadauthority to do, the habit of a canon of St. Maur, and settles in thatresidence, "a paradise, " as he himself says, "of salubrity, amenity, serenity, convenience, and all the chaste pleasures of agriculture andcountry-life. " Between 1540 and 1551 he is, nevertheless, found oncemore wandering, far away from this paradise, in France, Italy, and, perhaps, England; he completes and publishes, under his own name, the_Faits et Dicts heroiques de Pantagruel, _ and obtains from Francis I. Afaculty for the publication of "these two volumes not less useful thandelightful, which the printers had corrupted and perverted in manypassages, to the great displeasure and detriment of the author, and tothe prejudice of readers. " The work made a great noise; the Sorbonneresolved to attack it, in spite of the king's approbation; but Francis I. Died on the 31st of March, 1547. Rabelais relapsed into his life ofembarrassment and vagabondage; on leaving France he had recourse, firstat Metz and afterwards in Italy, to the assistance of his old and everwell-disposed patron, Cardinal John Du Bellay. On returning to France heobtained from the new king, Henry II. , a fresh faculty for the printingof his books "in Greek, Latin, and Tuscan;" and, almost at the same time, on the 18th of January, 1551, Cardinal Du Bellay, Bishop of Paris, conferred upon him the cure of St. Martin at Meudon, "which hedischarged, " says his biographer Colletet, "with all the sincerity, allthe uprightness, and all the charity that can be expected of a man whowishes to do his duty, and to the satisfaction of his flock. "Nevertheless, when the new holder of the cure at Meudon, shortly afterhis installation, made up his mind to publish the fourth book of the_Faits et Dicts heroiques du bon Pantagruel, _ the work was censured bythe Sorbonne and interdicted by decree of Parliament, and authority tooffer it for sale was not granted until, on the 9th of February, 1552, Rabelais had given in his resignation of his cure at Meudon, and ofanother cure which he possessed, under the title of benefice, in thediocese of Le Mans. He retired in bad health to Paris, where he diedshortly afterwards, in 1553, "in Rue des Jardins, parish of St. Paul, inthe cemetery whereof he was interred, " says Colletet, "close to a largetree which was still to be seen a few years ago. "

Such a life, this constant change of position, profession, career, taste, patron, and residence, bore a strong resemblance to what we shouldnowadays call a Bohemian life; and everything shows that Rabelais'habits, without being scandalous, were not more regular or more dignifiedthan his condition in the world. Had we no precise and personalinformation about him in this respect, still his literary work, _Gargantua and Pantagruel, _ would not leave us in any doubt: there is noprinted book, sketch, conversation, or story, which is more coarse andcynical, and which testifies, whether as regards the author or the publicfor whom the work is intended, to a more complete and habitualdissoluteness in thought, morals, and language. There is certainly noground for wondering that the Sorbonne, in proceeding against the _Vietres-horrifique du grand Gargantua, pere de Pantagruel, _ should havedescribed it as "an obscene tale;" and the whole part of Panurge, thebrilliant talker of the tale, "Take him for all in all the best boy in the world, "

fully justifies the Sorbonne. But, by way of striking contrast, at thesame time that the works of Rabelais attest the irregularity of men'slives and minds, they also reveal the great travail that is going on andthe great progress that has already been made in the intellectualcondition of his day, in the influence of natural and legitimatefeelings, and in the appreciation of men's mutual rights and duties. Sixty-two years ago M. Guizot published, in a periodical collectionentitled _Annales de l'Education, _ a Study of Rabelais' ideas comparedwith the practice and routine of his day in respect of Education; animportant question in the sixteenth as it is in the nineteenth century. It will be well to quote here from that Study certain fragments whichwill give some notion of what new ideas and tendencies were making theirway into the social life of France, and were coincident with that greatreligious and political ferment which was destined to reachbursting-point in the reign of Francis I. , and to influence for nearlya century the fortunes of France. 

"It was no easy matter, " were the words used by M. Guizot in 1811, "tospeak reasonably about education at the time when Rabelais wrote. Therewas then no idea of home-education and the means of rendering itpracticable. As to public education, there was no extensive range andnothing really useful to the community in the instruction received bychildren at college; no justice and no humanity in the treatment theyexperienced; a fruitless and ridiculously prolonged study of wordssucceeded by a no less fruitless study of interminable subtilties, andall this fruitless knowledge driven into the brains of children by helpof chastisements, blows, and that barbarous severity which seems toregard the _Compelle intrare_ as the principal law and object ofinstruction. How proceed, in such a state of things, to conceive a planof liberal, gentle, and reasonable education? Rabelais, in his book, had begun by avoiding the danger of directly shocking received ideas;by transporting both himself and his heroes to the regions of imaginationand extravagance he had set himself at liberty to bring them up in quitea different fashion than that of his times; the rectors of colleges couldnot pretend that Pantagruel, who was hardly born before he sucked down atevery meal the milk of four thousand six hundred cows, and for whosefirst shirt there had been cut nine hundred ells of Chatellerault linen, was a portrait of any of the little boys who trembled at their ferules. . . . Pantagruel is in his cradle; he is bound and swathed in it likeall children at that time; but, ere long, Gargantua, his father, perceives that these bands are constraining his movements, and that he ismaking efforts to burst there; he immediately, by advice of the princesand lords present, orders the said shackles to be undone, and lo!Pantagruel is no longer uneasy. . . . And thus became he big andstrong full early. . . . There came, however, the time when hisinstruction must begin. 'My will, ' said Gargantua, 'is to hand him overto some learned man for to indoctrinate him according to his capacity, and to spare nothing to that end. ' He, accordingly, put Pantagruel undera great teacher, who began by bringing him up after the fashion of thosetimes. He taught him his charte (alphabet) to such purpose that he couldsay it by heart backwards, and he was five years and three months aboutit. Then he read with him Donotus and Facetus (old elementary works onLatin grammar), and he was thirteen years, six months, and two weeks overthat. Then he read with him the De Modis significandi, with thecommentaries of Hurtebisius, Fasquin, and a heap of others, and he wasmore than eighteen years and eleven months over them, and knew them sowell that he proved on his fingers to his mother that _de modissignifieandi non erat scientia_. After so much labor and so many years, what did Pantagruel know? Gargantua was no bigot: he did not shut hiseyes that he might not see, and he believed what his eyes told him. Hesaw that Pantagruel worked very hard and spent all his time at it, andyet he got no good by it. And what was worse, he was becoming daft, silly, dreamy, and besotted through it. So Pantagruel was taken awayfrom his former masters and handed over to Ponocrates, a teacher of quitea different sort, who was bidden to take him to Paris to make a newcreature of him and complete his education there. Ponocrates was verycareful not to send him to any college. Rabelais, as it appears, had aspecial aversion for Montaigu College. 'Tempeste, ' says he, 'was a greatboy-flogger at Montaigu College. If for flogging poor little children, unoffending school-boys, pedagogues are damned, he, upon my word ofhonor, is now on Ixion's wheel, flogging the dock-tailed cur that turnsit. ' Pantagruel's education was now humane and gentle. Accordingly hesoon took pleasure in the work which Ponocrates was at the pains ofrendering interesting to him by the very nature and the variety of thesubjects of it. . . . Is it not a very remarkable phenomenon that atsuch a time and in such a condition of public instruction a man shouldhave had sufficient sagacity not only to regard the natural sciences asone of the principal subjects of study which ought to be included in acourse of education, but further to make the observation of nature thebasis of that study, to fix the pupil's attention upon examination offacts, and to impress upon him the necessity of applying his knowledge bystudying those practical arts and industries which profit by suchapplications? That, however, Rabelais did, probably by dint of sheergood sense, and without having any notion himself about the wide bearingof his ideas. Ponocrates took Pantagruel through a course of what weshould nowadays call practical study of the exact and natural sciences asthey were understood in the sixteenth century; but, at the same time, farfrom forgetting the moral sciences, he assigns to them, for each day, adefinite place and an equally practical character. 'As soon asPantagruel was up, ' he says, 'some page or other of the sacred Scripturewas read with him aloud and distinctly, with pronunciation suited to thesubject. . . . In accordance with the design and purport of thislesson, he at frequent intervals devoted himself to doing reverence andsaying prayers to the good God, whose majesty and marvellous judgmentswere shown forth in what was read. . . . When evening came, he andhis teacher briefly recapitulated together, after the manner of thePythagoreans, all that he had read, seen, learned, and heard in thecourse of the whole day. They prayed to God the Creator, worshippingHim, glorifying Him for his boundless goodness, giving Him thanks for allthe time that was past, and commending themselves to His divine mercy forall that was to come. This done, they went to their rest. ' And at theend of this course of education, so complete both from the worldly andthe religious point of view, Rabelais shows us young Pantagruel living inaffectionate and respectful intimacy with his father Gargantua, who, ashe sees him off on his travels, gives him these last words of advice:Science without conscience is nought but ruin to the soul; it behoovesthee to serve, love, and fear God. Have thou in suspicion the abuses ofthe world; set not thine heart on vanity, for this life is transitory, but the word of God abideth forever. Reverence thy teachers; flee thecompany of those whom thou wouldest not resemble. . . . And when thoufeelest sure that thou hast acquired all that is to be learned yonder, return to me that I may see thee and give thee my blessing ere I die. '"

After what was said above about the personal habits and the works ofRabelais, these are certainly not the ideas, sentiments, and language onewould expect to find at the end and as the conclusion of his life and hisbook. And it is precisely on account of this contrast that more spacehas been accorded in this history to the man and his book than would inthe natural course of things have been due to them. At bottom and, beyond their mere appearances the life and the book of Rabelais are atrue and vivid reflection of the moral and social ferment characteristicof his time. A time of innovation and of obstruction, of corruption andof regeneration, of decay and of renaissance, all at once. A deeplyserious crisis in a strong and complicated social system, which had beenhitherto exposed to the buffets and the risks of brute force, but wasintellectually full of life and aspiration, was in travail of a doubleyearning for reforming itself and setting itself in order, and didindeed, in the sixteenth century, attempt at one and the same time areligious and a political reformation, the object whereof, missed as itwas at that period, is still at the bottom of all true Frenchmen's trialsand struggles. This great movement of the sixteenth century we are nowabout to approach, and will attempt to fix its character with precisionand mark the imprint of its earliest steps. 

CHAPTER XXX. ----FRANCIS I. AND THE REFORMATION. 

Nearly half a century before the Reformation made any noise in France ithad burst out with great force and had established its footing inGermany, Switzerland, and England. John Huss and Jerome of Prague, bothborn in Bohemia, one in 1373 and the other in 1378, had been condemned asheretics and burned at Constance, one in 1415 and the other in 1416, bydecree and in the presence of the council which had been there assembled. But, at the commencement of the sixteenth century, Luther in Germany andZwingle in Switzerland had taken in hand the work of the Reformation, andbefore half that century had rolled by they had made the foundations oftheir new church so strong that their powerful adversaries, with CharlesV. At their head, felt obliged to treat with them and recognize theirposition in the European world, though all the while disputing theirright. In England, Henry VIII. , under the influence of an unbridledpassion, as all his passions were, for Anna Boleyn, had, in 1531, brokenwith the church of Rome, whose pope, Clement VII. , refused very properlyto pronounce him divorced from his wife Catherine of Aragon, and the kinghad proclaimed himself the spiritual head of the English church withoutmeeting either amongst his clergy or in his kingdom with any effectualopposition. Thus in these three important states of Western Europe theReformers had succeeded, and the religious revolution was in process ofaccomplishment. 

[Illustration: The First Protestants----178]

In France it was quite otherwise. Not that, there too, there were notamongst Christians profound dissensions and ardent desires for religiousreform. We will dwell directly upon its explosion, its vicissitudes, andits characteristics. But France did not contain, as Germany did, severaldistinct states, independent and pretty strong, though by no meansequally so, which could offer to the different creeds a secure asylum, and could form one with another coalitions capable of resisting the headof that incohesive coalition which was called the empire of Germany. Inthe sixteenth century, on the contrary, the unity of the French monarchywas established, and it was all, throughout its whole extent, subject tothe same laws and the same master, as regarded the religious bodies aswell as the body politic. In this monarchy, however, there did nothappen to be, at the date of the sixteenth century, a sovereign audaciousenough and powerful enough to gratify his personal passions at the costof embroiling himself, like Henry VIII. , with the spiritual head ofChristendom, and, from the mere desire for a change of wife, to changethe regimen of the church in his dominions. Francis I. , on the contrary, had scarcely ascended the throne when, by abolishing the PragmaticSanction and signing the Concordat of 1516, he attached himself moreclosely to the papacy. The nascent Reformation, then, did not meet inFrance with either of the two important circumstances, politicallyconsidered, which in Germany and in England rendered its first steps moreeasy and more secure. It was in the cause of religious creeds alone, andby means of moral force alone, that she had to maintain the struggles inwhich she engaged. 

At the beginning of the sixteenth century, there lived, at a small castlenear Gap in Dauphiny, in the bosom of a noble and unostentatiously piousfamily, a young man of ardent imagination, fiery temperament, andenergetic character, who shared his relatives' creeds and joined in theirdevotions, but grew weary of the monotony of his thoughts and of hislife. William Farel heard talk of another young man, his contemporaryand neighbor, Peter du Terrail, even now almost famous under the name ofBayard. "Such sons, " was said in his hearing, "are as arrows in the handof a giant; blessed is he who has his quiver full of them!" Young Farelpressed his father to let him go too and make himself a man in the world. The old gentleman would willingly have permitted his son to take up sucha life as Bayard's; but it was towards the University of Paris, "thatmother of all the sciences, that pure and shining mirror of the faith, "that the young man's aspirations were directed. The father at firstopposed, but afterwards yielded to his wishes; and, about 1510, WilliamFarel quitted Gap and arrived at Paris. The questions raised by thecouncils of Bale and Florence, and by the semi-political, semi-ecclesiastical assembly at Tours, which had been convoked by LouisXII. , the instruction at the Parisian University, and the attacks of theSorbonne on the study of Greek and Hebrew, branded as heresy, wereproducing a lively agitation in the public mind. A doctor of theology, already advanced in years, of small stature, of mean appearance, and oflow origin, Jacques Lefevre by name, born at Etaples in Picardy, had forseventeen years filled with great success a professorship in theuniversity. "Amongst many thousands of men, " said Erasmus, "you will notfind any of higher integrity and more versed in polite letters. " "He isvery fond of me, " wrote Zwingle about him; "he is perfectly open andgood; he argues, he sings, he plays, and be laughs with me at the folliesof the world. " Some circumstance or other brought the young student andthe old scholar together; they liked one another, and soon becamefriends. Farel was impressed by his master's devotion as well aslearning; he saw him on his knees at church praying fervently; and, "Never, " said he, "had I seen a chanter of mass who chanted it withdeeper reverence. " But this old-fashioned piety did not interfere at allwith the freedom of the professor's ideas and conversations touchingeither the abuses or the doctrines of the church. "How shameful it is, "he would say, "to see a bishop soliciting people to drink with him, caring for nought but gaming, constantly handling the dice and thedice-box, constantly hunting, hallooing after birds and game, frequentingbad houses! . . . Religion has but one foundation, but one end, butone head, Jesus Christ blessed forever; he alone trod the wine-press. Let us not, then, call ourselves by the name of St. Paul, or Apollos, orSt. Peter. " These free conversations worked, not all at once, but nonethe less effectually, upon those who heard them. "The end was, " saysFarel, "that little by little the papacy slipped from its place in myheart; it did not come down at the first shock. " At the same time thathe thus talked with his pupils, Lefevre of Etaples published a commentaryon the Epistles of St. Paul, and then a commentary on the Gospels. "Christians, " said he, "are those only who love Jesus Christ and His word. May everything be illumined with His light! Through it may there be areturn of times like those of that primitive church which devoted toJesus Christ so many martyrs! May the Lord of the harvest, foreseeing anew harvest, send new and diligent laborers! . . . My dear William, "he added, turning to Farel and taking his hand, "God will renew theworld, and you will see it!"

It was not only professors and pupils, scholars grown old in meditationand young folks eager for truth, liberty, action, and renown, whowelcomed passionately those boundless and undefined hopes, thoseyearnings towards a brilliant and at the same time a vague future, atwhich they looked forward, according to the expression used by Lefevreof Etaples to Farel, to a "renewal of the world. " Men holding a socialposition very different from that of the philosophers, men with mindsformed on an acquaintance with facts and in the practice of affairs, took part in this intellectual and religious ferment, and protected andencouraged its fervent adherents. William Briconnet, Bishop of Meaux, aprelate who had been Louis XII. 's ambassador to Pope Julius II. , and oneamongst the negotiators of Francis I. 's Concordat with Leo X. , opened hisdiocese to the preachers and writers recommended to him by his friendLefevre of Staples, and supported them in their labors for thetranslation and propagation, amongst the people, of the Holy Scriptures. They had at court, and near the king's own person, the avowed support ofhis sister, Princess Marguerite, who was beautiful, sprightly, affable, kind, disposed towards all lofty and humane sentiments as well as allintellectual pleasures, and an object of the sometimes rash attentions ofthe most eminent and most different men of her time, Charles V. , theConstable de Bourbon, Admiral Bonnivet, and Clement Marot. Marguerite, who was married to the Duke d'Alencon, widowed in 1525, and married asecond time, in 1527, to Henry d'Albret, King of Navarre, was all herlife at Pau and at Nerac, as well as at Paris, a centre, a focus ofsocial, literary, religious, and political movement. "The king herbrother loved her dearly, " says Brantome, "and always called her hisdarling. . . Very often, when he had important business, he left it toher, waiting for her definitive and conclusive decision. 

[Illustration: The Castle of Pau----183]

The ambassadors who talked with her were enchanted by her, and alwayswent to see her after having paid their first ambassadorial visit. Shehad so great a regard and affection for the king, that when she heard ofhis dangerous illness she said, 'Whosoever shall come to my door, andannounce to me the recovery of the king my brother, such courier, shouldhe be tired, and worn out, and muddy, and dirty, I will go and kiss andembrace as if he were the sprucest prince and gentleman of France; and, should he be in want of a bed and unable to find one whereon to rid himof his weariness, I would give him mine, and I would rather lie on thehard, for the good news he brought me. ' . . . She was suspected ofinclining to the religion of Luther, but she never made any profession orsign thereof; and, if she believed it, she kept it in her heart verysecret, inasmuch as the king did hate it sorely. " . . . "The heresywas seen glimmering here and there, " says another contemporary witness[Florimond de Raimond in his _Histoire de l'Heresie_], "but it appearedand disappeared like a nightly meteor which has but a flickeringbrightness. "--At bottom this reserve was quite in conformity with themental condition of that class, or as one might he inclined to say, thatcircle of Reformers at court. Luther and Zwingle had distinctly declaredwar on the papacy; Henry VIII. Had with a flourish separated England fromthe Romish church; Marguerite de Valois and Bishop Briconnet neitherwished nor demanded so much; they aspired no further than to reform theabuses of the Romish church by the authority of that church itself, inconcert with its heads and according to its traditional regimen; they hadno idea of more than dealing kindly, and even sympathetically, with theliberties and the progress of science and human intelligence. Confinedwithin these limits, the idea was legitimate and honest enough, but itshowed want of foresight, and was utterly vain. When, whether in stateor church, the vices and defects of government have lasted for ages andbecome habits not only inveterate but closely connected with powerfulpersonal interests, a day at last comes when the deplorable result isseen in pig-headedness and weakness. Then there is an explosion ofdeep-seated and violent shocks, from which infinitely more is expectedthan they can accomplish, and which, even when they are successful, costthe people very dear, for their success is sullied and incomplete. Acertain amount of good government and general good sense is a necessarypreface and preparation for any good sort of reform. Happy the nationswho are spared by their wisdom or their good fortune the cruel trial ofonly obtaining such reforms as they need when they have been reduced toprosecute them beneath the slings and arrows of outrageous revolution!Christian France in the sixteenth century was not so favorably situated. 

During the first years of Francis I. 's reign (from 1515 to 1520) youngand ardent Reformers, such as William Farel and his friends, were butisolated individuals, eager after new ideas and studies, very favorabletowards all that came to them from Germany, but without any consistencyyet as a party, and without having committed any striking act ofaggression against the Roman church. Nevertheless they were even then, so far as the heads and the devoted adherents of that church wereconcerned, objects of serious disquietude and jealous supervision. 

[Illustration: William Farel----181]

The Sorbonne, in particular, pronounced vehemently against them. Lutherand his progress were beginning to make a great noise in France. Afterhis discussion with Dr. Eck at Leipzig in 1519 he had consented to takefor judges the Universities of Erfurt and Paris; on the 20th of January, 1520, the quoestor of the nation of France bought twenty copies ofLuther's conference with Dr. Eck to distribute amongst the members of hiscommittee; the University gave more than a year to its examination. "AllEurope, " says Crevier, "was waiting for the decision of the University ofParis. " Whenever an incident occurred or a question arose, "We shallsee, " said they of the Sorbonne, "what sort of folks hold to Luther. Why, that fellow is worse than Luther!" In April, 1521, the Universitysolemnly condemned Luther's writings, ordering that they should bepublicly burned, and that the author should be compelled to retract. TheSyndic of the Sorbonne, Noel Bedier, who, to give his name a classicaltwang, was called _Beda, _ had been the principal and the most eager actorin this procedure; he was a theologian full of subtlety, obstinacy, harshness, and hatred. "In a single Beda there are three thousandmonks, " Erasmus used to say of him. The syndic had at court two powerfulpatrons, the king's mother, Louise of Savoy, and the chancellor, Duprat, both decided enemies of the Reformers. Louise of Savoy, in consequenceof her licentious morals and her thirst for riches; Duprat, by reason ofthe same thirst, and of his ambition to become an equally great lord inthe church as in the state; and he succeeded, for in 1525 he wasappointed Archbishop of Sens. They were, moreover, both of them, opposedto any liberal reform, and devoted, in any case, to absolute power. Beaucaire de Peguilhem, a contemporary and most Catholic historian, --forhe accompanied the Cardinal of Lorraine to the Council of Trent, --callsDuprat "the most vicious of bipeds. " Such patrons did not lackhot-headed executants of their policy; friendly relations had not ceasedbetween the Reformers and their adversaries; a Jacobin monk, De Roma byname, was conversing one day at Meaux with Farel and his friends; theReformers expressed the hopes they had in the propagation of the gospel;De Roma all at once stood up, shouting, "Then I and all the rest of thebrotherhood will preach a crusade we will stir up the people; and if theking permits the preaching of your gospel, we will have him expelled byhis own subjects from his own kingdom. " Fanatical passions were alreadyat work, though the parties were too unequal as yet to come to actualforce. 

Against such passions the Reformers found Francis I. A very indecisiveand very inefficient protector. "I wish, " said he, "to give men ofletters special marks of my favor. " When deputies from the Sorbonne cameand requested him to put down the publication of learned works taxed withheresy, "I do not wish, " he replied, "to have those folks meddled with;to persecute those who instruct us would be to keep men of ability fromcoming to our country. " But in spite of his language, orders were givento the bishops to furnish the necessary funds for the prosecution ofheretics, and, when the charge of heresy became frequent, Francis I. Nolonger repudiated it. "Those people, " he said, "do nothing but bringtrouble into the state. " Troubles, indeed, in otherwise tranquilprovinces, where the Catholic faith was in great force, often accompaniedthe expression of those wishes for reform to which the local clergythemselves considered it necessary to make important concessions. Aserious fire took place at Troyes in 1524. "It was put down, " says M. Boutiot, a learned and careful historian of that town, "to the account ofthe new religious notions, as well as to that of the Emperor Charles V. 'sfriends and the Constable de Bourbon's partisans. As early as 1520 therehad begun to be felt at Troyes the first symptoms of repressive measuresdirected against the Reformation; in 1523, 1527, and 1528, provincialcouncils were held at Meaux, Lyons, Rouen, Bourges, and Paris, to opposethe Lutherans. These councils drew up regulations tending to reformationof morals and of religious ceremonies; they decided that theadministration of the sacraments should take place without any demand formoney, and that preachers, in their sermons, should confine themselves tothe sacred books, and not quote poets or profane authors; they closed thechurches to profane assemblies and burlesques (fetes des fous); theyordered the parish priests, in their addresses (au prone), to explain thegospel of the day; they ruled that a stop should be put to the abuses ofexcommunication; they interdicted the publication of any book onreligious subjects without the permission of the bishop of the diocese. . . . Troyes at that time contained some enlightened men; William Bude(Budaeus) was in uninterrupted communication with it; the Pithou family, represented by their head, Peter Pithou, a barrister at Troyes and a manhighly thought of, were in correspondence with the Reformers, especiallywith Lefevre of Etaples. " [_Histoire de la Ville de Troyes et de laChampagne meridionale, _ by T. Boutiot, 1873, t. Iii. P. 379. ] And thuswas going on throughout almost the whole of France, partly in the path ofliberty, partly in that of concessions, partly in that of hardships, thework of the Reformation, too weak as yet and too disconnected to engageto any purpose in a struggle, but even now sufficiently wide-spread andstrong to render abortive any attempt to strangle it. 

The defeat at Pavia and the captivity of Francis I. At Madrid placed thegoverning power for thirteen months in the hands of the most powerfulfoes of the Reformation, the regent Louise of Savoy and the chancellorDuprat. They used it unsparingly, with the harsh indifference ofpoliticians who will have, at any price, peace within their dominions andsubmission to authority. It was under their regimen that there tookplace the first martyrdom decreed and executed in France upon a partisanof the Reformation for an act of aggression and offence against theCatholic church. John Leclerc, a wool-carder at Meaux, seeing a bullof indulgences affixed to the door of Meaux cathedral, had torn it down, and substituted for it a placard in which the pope was described asAntichrist. Having been arrested on the spot, he was, by decree of theParliament of Paris, whipped publicly, three days consecutively, andbranded on the forehead by the hangman in the presence of his mother, whocried, "Jesus Christ forever!" He was banished, and retired in July, 1525, to Metz; and there he was working at his trade when he heard that asolemn procession was to take place, next day, in the environs of thetown. In his blind zeal he went and broke down the images at the feet ofwhich the Catholics were to have burned incense. Being arrested on hisreturn to the town, he, far from disavowing the deed, acknowledged it andgloried in it. He was sentenced to a horrible punishment; his right handwas cut off, his nose was torn out, pincers were applied to his arms, hisnipples were plucked out, his head was confined in two circlets ofred-hot iron, and, whilst he was still chanting, in a loud voice, thisversicle from the cxvth Psalm, --

 "Their idols are silver and gold, The work of men's hands. "

his bleeding and mutilated body was thrown upon the blazing fagots. Hehad a younger brother, Peter Leclerc, a simple wool-carder like himself, who remained at Meaux, devoted to the same faith and the same cause. "Great _clerc, _" says a contemporary chronicler, playing upon his name, "who knew no language but that which he had learned from his nurse, butwho, being thoroughly grounded in the holy writings, besides theintegrity of his life, was chosen by the weavers and became the firstminister of the gospel seen in France. " An old man of Meaux, namedStephen Mangin, offered his house, situated near the market-place, forholding regular meetings. Forty or fifty of the faithful formed thenucleus of the little church which grew up. Peter Leclerc preached andadministered the sacraments in Stephen Mangin's house so regularly that, twenty years after his brother John's martyrdom, the meetings, composedpartly of believers who flocked in from the neighboring villages, werefrom three to four hundred in number. One day when they had celebratedthe Lord's Supper, the 8th of September, 1546, the house was surrounded, and nearly sixty persons, men, women, and children, who allowedthemselves to be arrested without making any resistance, were taken. They were all sent before the Parliament of Paris; fourteen of the menwere sentenced to be burned alive in the great marketplace at Meaux, onthe spot nearest to the house in which the crime of heresy had beencommitted; and their wives, together with their nearest relatives, weresentenced to be present at the execution, "the men bare-headed and thewomen ranged beside them individually, in such sort that they might bedistinguished amongst the rest. " The decree was strictly carried out. 

[Illustration: Burning of Reformers at Meaux----188]

It costs a pang to recur to these hideous exhibitions, but it must bedone; for history not only has a right, but is bound to do justice uponthe errors and crimes of the past, especially when the past had no ideaof guilt in the commission of them. A wit of the last century, Champfort, used to say, "There is nothing more dangerous than an honestman engaged in a rascally calling. " There is nothing more dangerous thanerrors and crimes of which the perpetrators do not see the absurd andodious character. The contemporary historian, Sleidan, says, expressly, "The common people in France hold that there are no people more wickedand criminal that heretics; generally, as long as they are a prey to theblazing fagots, the people around them are excited to frenzy and cursethem in the midst of their torments. " The sixteenth century is thatperiod of French history at which this intellectual and moral blindnesscost France "Their idols are silver and gold, The work of men's hands, "--most dear; it supplied the bad passions of men with a means, of whichthey amply availed themselves, of gratifying then without scruple andwithout remorse. If, in the early part of this century, the Reformationwas as yet without great leaders, it was not, nevertheless, amongst onlythe laborers, the humble and the poor, that it found confessors andmartyrs. The provincial nobility, the burgesses of the towns, themagistracy, the bar, the industrial classes as well as the learned, eventhen furnished their quota of devoted and faithful friends. A nobleman, a Picard by birth, born about 1490 at Passy, near Paris, where hegenerally lived, Louis de Berquin by name, was one of the mostdistinguished of them by his social position, his elevated ideas, his learning, the purity of his morals, and the dignity of his life. Possessed of a patrimonial estate, near Abbeville, which brought him in amodest income of six hundred crowns a year, and a bachelor, he devotedhimself to study and to religious matters with independence of mind andwith a pious heart. "Most faithfully observant, " says Erasmus, "of theordinances and rites of the church, to wit, prescribed fasts, holy days, forbidden meats, masses, sermons, and, in a word, all, that tends topiety, he strongly reprobated the doctrines of Luther. " He was none theless, in 1523, denounced to the Parliament of Paris as being on the sideof the Reformers. He had books, it was said; he even composed themhimself on questions of faith, and he had been engaged in some sort ofdispute with the theologian William de Coutance, head of HarcourtCollege. 

[Illustration: Erasmus----194]

The attorney-general of the Parliament ordered one of his officers to goand make an examination of Berquin's books as well as papers, and toseize what appeared to him to savor of heresy. The officer brought awaydivers works of Luther, Melancthon, and Carlostadt, and some originaltreatises of Berquin himself, which were deposited in the keeping of thecourt. The theological faculty claimed to examine them as being withintheir competence. On being summoned by the attorney-general, Berquindemanded to be present when an inventory was made of his books ormanuscripts, and to give such explanations as he should deem necessary;and his request was granted without question. On the 26th of June, 1523, the commissioners of the Sorbonne made their report. On the 8th of July, Peter Lizet, king's advocate, read it out to the court. The matter cameon again for hearing on the 1st of August. Berquin was summoned andinterrogated, and, as the result of this interrogatory, was arrested andcarried off to imprisonment at the Conciergerie in the square tower. Onthe 5th of August sentence was pronounced, and Louis de Berquin wasremanded to appear before the Bishop of Paris, as being charged withheresy, "in which case, " says the Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris, "hewould have been in great danger of being put to death according to law, as he had well deserved. " The public were as ready as the accusers tobelieve in the crime and to impatiently await its punishment. 

It was not without surprise or without displeasure that, on the 8th ofAugust, just as they had "made over to the Bishop of Paris, present andaccepting" the prisoner confined in the Conciergerie, the members of thecouncil-chamber observed the arrival of Captain Frederic, belonging tothe archers of the king's guard, and bringing a letter from the king, whochanged the venue in Berquin's case so as to decide it himself at hisgrand council; in consequence of which the prisoner would have to behanded over, not to the bishop, but to the king. The chamberremonstrated; Berquin was no longer their prisoner; the matter had beendecided; it was the bishop to whom application must be made. But theseremonstrances had been foreseen; the captain had verbal instructions tocarry off Louis de Berquin by force in case of a refusal to give him up. The chamber decided upon handing over the bishop's prisoner to the king, contenting themselves with causing the seized books and manuscripts to beburned that very day in the space in front of Notre Dame. It was whilstrepairing to the scene of war in Italy, and when he was just enteringMelun, where he merely passed through, that the king had given thisunexpected order, on the very day, August 5, on which the Parliamentpronounced the decree which sent Berquin to appear before the Bishop ofParis. There is no clear trace of the vigilant protect, or who had soclosely watched the proceedings against Berquin, and so opportunelyappealed for the king's interference. In any incident of this sort thereis a temptation to presume that the influence was that of PrincessMarguerite; but it is not certain that she was at this time anywhere nearthe king; perhaps John du Bellay, Bishop of Bayonne, acted for her. Francis I. Was, moreover, disposed to extend protection, of his ownaccord, to gentlemen and scholars against furious theologians, when thelatter were not too formidable for him. However that may be, Berquin, onbecoming the king's prisoner, was summoned before the chancellor, Duprat, who, politely reproaching him with having disquieted the church, confinedhimself to requesting that he would testify some regret for it. Berquinsubmitted with a good grace, and, being immediately set at liberty, leftParis and repaired to his estate in Picardy. 

Whilst he there resumed his life of peaceful study, the Parliamentcontinued to maintain in principle and openly proclaim its right ofrepression against heretics. On the 12th of August, 1523, it causednotice to be given, by sound of trumpet, throughout the whole of Paris, that clergy and laymen were to deposit in the keeping of the Palace allLuther's books that they possessed. Laymen who did not comply with thisorder would have their property confiscated; clergymen would be deprivedof their temporalities and banished. Toleration, in a case of suspectedheresy, was an act of the king's which itself required toleration;proceedings against heresy remained the law of the land, constantlyhanging over every head. 

Eighteen months later, in May, 1525, there seemed to be no furtherthought about Berquin; but the battle of Pavia was lost; Francis I. Was aprisoner at Madrid; Louise of Savoy and the chancellor, Duprat, wieldedthe power. The question of heretics again came to the front. "The queenmust be told, " said Peter Lizet, king's advocate, "as St. Gregory toldBrunehaut, Queen of the Franks, that the best way of driving away theenemies of the kingdom is to drive away from it the enemies of God andHis spouse, the Church. " On the 10th of April, 1525, on occasion ofgiving the regent some counsel as to her government, the Parliamentstrongly recommended her to take proceedings against the heretics. "Thecourt, " they said to her, "has before now passed several provisionaldecrees against the guilty, which have not been executed because of theevil disposition of the times and the hinderances effected by thedelinquents, who have found means of suspending and delaying thejudgments given against them, as well by transference of the venue to thegrand council as by seizure and removal of certain of them, prisoners atthe time, whom they have had withdrawn from their prisons by exercise ofsovereign and absolute power, which has given the rest occasion andboldness to follow the evil doctrine. " It was impossible to reproach theking more broadly with having set Berquin at liberty. The Parliamentfurther advised the regent to ask the pope to send over to Francepontifical delegates invested with his own powers to watch and to try inhis name "even archbishops, bishops, and abbots, who by their deeds, writings, or discourses, should render themselves suspected of a leaningtowards heresy. " Louise of Savoy, without any appearance of being hurtby the attack made by the Parliament on the acts of the king her son, eagerly followed the advice given her; and on the 20th of May, 1525, Clement VII. , in his turn, eagerly appointed four delegates commissionedto try all those suspected of heresy, who, in case of condemnation, wereto be left to the secular arm. On the very day on which the popeappointed his delegates, the faculty of theology at Paris passed censureupon divers writings of Erasmus, translated and spread abroad in Franceby Berquin; and on the 8th of January, 1526, the Bishop of Amiensdemanded of the Parliament authority "to order the body to be seized ofLouis de Berquin, who resided in his diocese and was scandalizing it byhis behavior. " The Parliament authorized his arrest; and, on the 24th ofJanuary, Berquin was once more a prisoner in the Conciergerie, at thesame time that orders were given to seize all his books and papers, whether at his own house or at that of his friend the Lord of Rambure atAbbeville. The great trial of Berquin for heresy was recommenced, and init the great name of Erasmus was compromised. 

When the question was thus solemnly reopened, Berquin's defenders weremuch excited. Defenders, we have said; but, in truth, history names butone, the Princess Marguerite, who alone showed any activity, and alonedid anything to the purpose. She wrote at once to the king, who wasstill at Madrid "My desire to obey your commands was sufficiently strongwithout having it redoubled by the charity you have been pleased to showto poor Berquin according to your promise; I feel sure that He for whom Ibelieve him to have suffered will approve of the mercy which, for Hishonor, you have had upon His servant and yours. " Francis I. Had, infact, written to suspend until his return the proceedings againstBerquin, as well as those against Lefevre, Roussel, and all the otherdoctors suspected of heresy. The regent transmitted the king's orders tothe pope's delegates, who presented themselves on the 20th of Februarybefore the Parliament to ask its advice. "The king is as badly advisedas he himself is good, " said the dean of the faculty of theology. TheParliament answered that "for a simple letter missive" it could notadjourn; it must have a letter patent; and it went on with the trial. Berquin presented several demands for delay, evidently in order to waitfor the king's return and personal intervention. The court refused them;and, on the 5th of March, 1526, the judgment was read to him in hisprison at the Conciergerie. It was to the effect that his books shouldbe again burned before his eyes, that he should declare his approval ofso just a sentence, and that he should earn the compassion of the churchby not refusing her any satisfaction she might demand; else he shouldhimself go to the stake. 

Whilst Berquin's trial was thus coming to an end, Francis I. Was enteringFrance once more in freedom, crying, "So I am king again!" During thelatter days of March, amongst the numerous personages who came tocongratulate him was John de Selve, premier president of the Parliamentof Paris. The king gave him a very cold reception. "My lords, " wrotethe premier president to his court, "I heard, through M. De Selve, mynephew, about some displeasure that was felt as regards our body, and Ialso perceived it myself. I have already begun to speak of it to Madame[the king's mother]. I will do, as I am bound to, my duty towards thecourt, with God's help. " On the 1st of April the king, who intended toreturn by none but slow stages to Paris, wrote from Mont-de-Marsan, tothe judges holding his court of Parliament at Paris:--

"We have presently been notified how that, notwithstanding that, throughour dear and much-loved lady and mother, regent in France during ourabsence, it was written unto you and ordered that you would be pleasednot to proceed in any way whatever with the matter of Sieur Berquin, lately detained a prisoner, until we should have been enabled to returnto this our kingdom, you have, nevertheless, at the request and pursuanceof his ill-wishers, so far proceeded with his business that you have cometo a definitive judgment on it. Whereat we cannot be too much astounded. . . . For this cause we do will and command and enjoin upon you . . That you are not to proceed to execution of the said judgment, which, asthe report is, you have pronounced against the said Berquin, but shallput him, himself and the depositions and the proceedings in his saidtrial, in such safe keeping that you may be able to answer to us forthem. . . . And take care that you make no default therein, for we dowarn you that, if default there be, we shall look to such of you as shallseem good to us to answer to us for it. "

Here was not only a letter patent, but a letter minatory. As to theexecution of their judgment, the Parliament obeyed the king's injunction, maintaining, however, the principle as well as the legality of Berquin'ssentence, and declaring that they awaited the king's orders to executeit. "According to the teaching of the two Testaments, " they said, "Godever rageth, in His just wrath, against the nations who fail to enforcerespect for the laws prescribed by Himself. It is important, moreover, to hasten the event in order as soon as possible to satisfy, independently of God, the people who murmur and whose impatience isbecoming verily troublesome. " Francis I. Did not reply. He would nothave dared, even in thought, to attack the question of principle as tothe chastisement of heresy, and he was afraid of weakening his ownAuthority too much if he humiliated his Parliament too much; it wassufficient for him that he might consider Berquin's life to be safe. Kings are protectors who are easily satisfied when their protection, tobe worth anything, might entail upon them the necessity of an energeticstruggle and of self-compromise. "Trust not in princes nor theirchildren, " said Lord Strafford, after the Psalmist [_Nolite confidereprincipibus et filiis eorum, quia non est sales in illis, _ Ps. Cxlvi. ], when, in the seventeenth century, he found that Charles I. Was abandoninghim to the English Parliament and the executioner. Louis de Berquinmight have felt similar distrust as to Francis I. , but his nature wasconfident and hopeful; when he knew of the king's letter to theParliament, he considered himself safe, and he testified as much toErasmus in a long letter, in which he told him the story of his trial, and alluded to "the fresh outbreak of anger on the part of those hornetswho accuse me of heresy, " said he, "simply because I have translated intothe vulgar tongue some of your little works, wherein they pretend thatthey have discovered the most monstrous pieces of impiety. " Hetransmitted to Erasmus a list of the paragraphs which the pope'sdelegates had condemned, pressing him to reply, "as you well know how. The king esteems you much, and will esteem you still more whenyou have heaped confusion on this brood of benighted theologians whoseineptitude is no excuse for their violence. " By a strange coincidence, Berquin's most determined foe, Noel Beda, provost of the Sorbonne, sentat the same time to Erasmus a copy of more than two hundred propositionswhich had been extracted from his works, and against which he, Beda, alsocame forward as accuser. Erasmus was a prudent man, and did not seekstrife; but when he was personally and offensively attacked by enemiesagainst whom he was conscious of his strength, he exhibited it proudlyand ably; and he replied to Beda by denouncing him, on the 6th of June, to the Parliament of Paris itself, as an impudent and ignorantcalumniator. His letter, read at the session of Parliament on the 5th ofJuly, 1526, was there listened to with profound deference, and produced asensation which did not remain without effect; in vain did Beda persistin accusing Erasmus of heresy and in maintaining that he was of thebrotherhood of Luther; Parliament considered him in the wrong, provisionally prohibited the booksellers from vending his libels againstErasmus, and required previous authorization to be obtained for all booksdestined for the press by the rectors of the Sorbonne. 

The success of Erasmus was also a success for Berquin; but he was stillin prison, ill and maltreated. The king wrote on the 11th of July toParliament to demand that he should enjoy at least all the liberties thatthe prison would admit of, that he should no longer be detained in anunhealthy cell, and that he should be placed in that building of theConciergerie where the court-yard was. "That, " was the answer, "would bea bad precedent; they never put in the court-yard convicts who hadincurred the penalty of death. " An offer was made to Berquin of thechamber reserved for the greatest personages, for princes of the blood, and of permission to walk in the court-yard for two hours a day, one inthe morning and the other in the evening, in the absence of the otherprisoners. Neither the king nor Berquin was inclined to be content withthese concessions. The king in his irritation sent from Beaugency, onthe 5th of October, two archers of his guard with a letter to thiseffect: "It is marvellously strange that what we ordered has not yet beendone. We do command and most expressly enjoin upon you, this once forall, that you are incontinently to put and deliver the said Berquin intothe hands of the said Texier and Charles do Broc, whom we have ordered toconduct him to our castle of the Louvre. " The court still objected; aprisoner favored by so high a personage, it was said, would soon be outof such a prison. The objection resulted in a formal refusal to obey. The provost of Paris, John de la Barre, the king's premier gentleman, wasrequested to repair to the palace and pay Berquin a visit, to ascertainfrom himself what could be done for him. Berquin, for all that appears, asked for nothing but liberty to read and write. "It is not possible, "was the reply; "such liberty is never granted to those who are condemnedto death. " As a great favor, Berquin was offered a copy of the Lettersof St. Jerome and some volumes of history; and the provost had orders notto omit that fact in his report: "The king must be fully assured that thecourt do all they can to please him. "

[Illustration: Berquin released by John de la Barre----198]

But it was to no purpose. On the 19th of November, 1526, the provost ofParis returned to the palace with a letter from the king, formallycommanding him to remove Berquin and transfer him to the Louvre. Thecourt again protested that they would not deliver over the said Berquinto the said provost; but, they said, "seeing what the times are, the saidprovost will be able to find free access to the Conciergerie, for to dothere what he hath a mind to. " The same day, about six in the evening, John de la Barre repaired to the Conciergerie, and removed from it Louisde Berquin, whom he handed over to the captain of the guard and fourarchers, who took him away to the Louvre. Two months afterwards, inJanuary, 1527, Princess Marguerite married Henry d'Albret, King ofNavarre, and about the same time, though it is difficult to discover theexact day, Louis de Berquin issued forth a free man from the Louvre, andthe new queen, on taking him at once into her service, wrote to theConstable Anne de Montmorency, whom the king had charged with the duty ofgetting Berquin set at liberty, "I thank you for the pleasure you havedone me in the matter of poor Berquin, whom I esteem as much as if hewere myself; and so you may say that you have delivered me from prison, since I consider in that light the pleasure done to me. "

Marguerite's sympathetic joy was as natural as touching; she must havethought Berquin safe; he was free and in the service of one who wasfundamentally a sovereign-prince, though living in France and independence upon the King of France, whose sister he had just married. In France, Berquin was under the stigma of having been condemned to deathas a heretic, and was confronted by determined enemies. In so perilous aposition his safety depended upon his courting oblivion. But instead ofthat, and consulting only the dictates of his generous and blindconfidence in the goodness of his cause, he resolved to assume theoffensive and to cry for justice against his enemies. "Beneath the cloakof religion, " he wrote to Erasmus, "the priests conceal the vilestpassions, the most corrupt morals, and the most scandalous infidelity. It is necessary to rend the veil which covers them, and boldly bring anaccusation of impiety against the Sorbonne, Rome, and all theirflunkies. " Erasmus, justly alarmed, used all his influence to deter him:but "the more confidence he showed, " says he, "the more I feared for him. I wrote to him frequently, begging him to get quit of the case by someexpedient, or even to withdraw himself on the pretext of a royalambassadorship obtained by the influence of his friends. I told him thatthe theologians would probably, as time went on, let his affair drop, butthat they would never admit themselves to be guilty of impiety. I toldhim to always bear in mind what a hydra was that Beda, and at how manymouths he belched forth venom. I told him to reflect well that he wasabout to commit himself with a foe that was immortal, for a faculty neverdies, and to rest assured that after having brought three monks to bay, he would have to defend himself against numerous legions, not onlyopulent and powerful, but, besides, very dishonest and very experiencedin the practice of every kind of cheatery, who would never rest untilthey had effected his ruin, were his cause as just as Christ's. I toldhim not to trust too much to the king's protection, the favor of princesbeing unstable and their affections easily alienated by the artifices ofinformers. . . . And if all this could not move him, I told him notto involve me in his business, for, with his permission, I was not at allinclined to get into any tangle with legions of monks and a whole facultyof theology. But I did not succeed in convincing him; whilst I argued inso many ways to deter him from his design, I did nothing but excite hiscourage. "

Not only did Berquin turn a deaf ear to the wise counsels of Erasmus, buthis protectress, Marguerite, being moved by his courage, and herself alsoas imprudent as she was generous, persuaded herself that he was in theright, and supported him in his undertaking. She wrote to the king herbrother, "Poor Berquin, who, through your goodness, holds that God hastwice preserved his life, throws himself upon you, having no longer anyone to whom he can have recourse, for to give you to understand hisinnocence; and whereas, Monseigneur, I know the esteem in which you holdhim and the desire he hath always had to do you service, I do not fear toentreat you, by letter instead of speech, to be pleased to have pity onhim. And if it please you to show signs of taking his matter to heart, Ihope that the truth, which he will make to appear, will convict theforgers of heretics of being slanderers and disobedient towards yourather than zealots for the faith. "

In his complaisance and indifference Francis I. Attended to his sister'swishes, and appeared to support Berquin in his appeal for a fresh anddefinite investigation of his case. On the other hand, Parliament, towhom the matter was referred, showed a disposition to take into accountthe king's good will towards Berquin, lately convicted, but now become inhis turn plaintiff and accuser. "We have no wish to dispute your power, "said the president, Charles de Guillard, to the king at a bed of justiceheld on the 24th of July, 1527: "it would be a species of sacrilege, andwe know well that you are above the laws, and that neither laws norordinances can constrain you. Your most humble and most obedient courtis comforted and rejoiced at your presence and advent, just as theapostles were when they saw their God after the resurrection. We areassured that your will is to be the peculiar protector and defender ofreligion, and not to permit or suffer in your kingdom any errors, heresies, or false doctrines. "

The matter thus reopened pursued its course slowly; twelve judges wereappointed to give a definite decision; and the king himself nominatedsix, amongst whom he placed Berquin's friend, William Bude. Variousincidents unconnected with religious disputes supervened. The Queen ofNavarre was brought to bed at Pau, on the 7th of January, 1528, of adaughter, Jeanne d'Albret, the future mother of Henry IV. The marriageof Princess Renee of France, daughter of Louis XII. , with Duke Herculesof Ferrara, was concluded, and the preparations for its celebration weregoing on at Fontainebleau, when, on Monday, June 1, 1528, the day afterthe Feast of Pentecost, "some heretics came by night, " says the Journald'un Bourgeois de Paris, "to an image of Notre-Dame de Pierre, which isat a corner of the street behind the church of Petit St. Antoine; to thewhich image they gave several blows with their weapons, and cut off herhead and that of her little child, Our Lord. But it was never known whothe image-breakers were. 

[Illustration: Heretic Iconoclasts----201]

The king, being then at Paris, and being advertised thereof, was so wrothand upset that, it is said, he wept right sore. And, incontinently, during the two days following, he caused it to be proclaimed by sound oftrumpet throughout the cross-roads of the city that if any persons knewwho had done it they should make their report and statement to justiceand to him, and he would give them a thousand crowns of gold. Nevertheless nothing could be known about it, although the king showedgreat diligence in the matter, and had officers commissioned to go fromhouse to house to make inquiry. . . . On Tuesday and other daysfollowing there were special processions from the parish churches andother churches of the city, which nearly all of them went to the saidplace. . . . And on the day of the Fete-Dieu, which was the 11th dayof the said month of June, the king went in procession, most devoutly, with the parish of St. Paul and all the clergy, to the spot where was thesaid image. He himself carried a lighted waxen taper, bareheaded, withvery great reverence, having with him the band and hautbois with severalclarions and trumpets, which made a glorious show, so melodiously didthey play. And with him were the Cardinal of Lorraine, and severalprelates and great lords, and all the gentlemen, having each a taper ofwhite wax in their hands, and all his archers had each a waxen taperalight, and thus they went to the spot where was the said image, withvery great honor and reverence, which was a beautiful sight to see, andwith devotion. " [_Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris, _ pp. 347-351. ]

In the sixteenth century men were far from understanding that respect isdue to every religious creed sincerely professed and practised; theinnovators, who broke the images of the Virgin Mary and the Infant Jesus, did not consider that by thus brutally attacking that which they regardedas a superstition, they were committing a revolting outrage uponChristian consciences. Such an incident was too favorable for Berquin'senemies not to be eagerly turned to profit by them. Although hisprosecution had been resumed, he had hitherto remained at large, and beentreated respectfully; he repaired without any guard over him from theLouvre to the Palace of Justice. But now he was arrested, and once moreconfined in the tower of the Conciergerie. Some books of his, seizedhap-hazard and sent to the syndic Beda, were found covered with notes, which were immediately pronounced to be heretical. On the 16th of April, 1529, he was brought before the court. "Louis Berquin, " said thepresident to him, "you are convicted of having belonged to the sect ofLuther, and of having made wicked books against the majesty of God and ofHis glorious Mother. In consequence, we do sentence you to makehonorable amends, bareheaded and with a waxen taper alight in your hand, in the great court of the palace, crying for mercy to God, the king, andthe law, for the offence by you committed. After that, you will beconducted bareheaded and on foot to the Place de Greve, where your bookswill be burned before your eyes. Then you will be taken in front of thechurch of Notre-Dame, where you will make honorable amends to God and tothe glorious Virgin His Mother. After which a hole will be pierced inyour tongue, that member wherewith you have sinned. Lastly, you will beplaced in the prison of Monsieur de Paris (the bishop), and will be thereconfined between two stone walls for the whole of your life. And weforbid that there be ever given you book to read or pen and ink towrite. " This sentence, which Erasmus called atrocious, appeared to takeBerquin by surprise; for a moment he remained speechless, and then hesaid, "I appeal to the king:" whereupon he was taken back to prison. Thesentence was to be carried out the same day about three P. M. A greatcrowd of more than twenty thousand persons, says a contemporarychronicler, rushed to the bridges, the streets, the squares, where thissolemn expiation was to take place. The commissioner of police, theofficer of the Chatelet, the archers, crossbowmen, and arquebusiers ofthe city had repaired to the palace to form the escort; but when theypresented themselves at the prison to take Berquin, he told them that hehad appealed to the king, and that he would not go with them. The escortand the crowd retired disappointed. The president convoked the tribunalthe same evening, and repairing to the prison, he made Berquin sign theform of his appeal. William Bude hurried to the scene, and vehementlyurged the prisoner to give it up. "A second sentence, " said he, "isready, and it pronounces death. If you acquiesce in the first, we shallbe able to save you later on. All that is demanded of you is to askpardon: and have we not all need of pardon?" It appears that for a momentBerquin hesitated, and was on the point of consenting; but Bude remainedanxious. "I know him, " said he; "his ingenuousness and his confidence inthe goodness of his cause will ruin him. " The king was at Blois, and hissister Marguerite at St. Germain; on the news of this urgent peril shewrote to her brother, "I for the last time, make you a very humblerequest; it is, that you will be pleased to have pity upon poor Berquin, whom I know to be suffering for nothing but loving the word of God andobeying yours. You will be pleased, Monseigneur, so to act that it benot said that separation has made you forget your most humble and mostobedient subject and sister, Marguerite. " We can discover no trace ofany reply whatever from Francis I. According to most of the documentaryevidence, uncertainty lasted for three days. Berquin persisted in hisresolution. "No, " he to his friend Bude, who again came to the prison, "I would rather endure death than give my approval, even by silence onlyto condemnation of the truth. " The president of the court went once moreto pay him a visit, and asked him if he held to his appeal. Berquinsaid, "Yes. " court revised its original sentence, and for the penalty ofperpetual imprisonment substituted that of the stake. On the 22d ofApril, 1529, according to most of the documents, but on the 17th, according to the _Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris, _ which the details ofthe last days render highly improbable, the officers of Parliamententered Berquin's gloomy chamber. He rose quietly and went with them;the procession set out, and at about three arrived at the Place de Greve;where the stake was ready. "Berquin had a gown of velvet, garments ofsatin and damask, and hosen of gold thread, " says the Bourgeois de Paris. "'Alas!' said some as they saw him pass, 'he is of noble lineage, amighty great scholar, expert in science and subtile withal, andnevertheless he hath gone out of his senses. '" We borrow the account ofhis actual death from a letter of Erasmus, written on the evidence of aneye-witness: "Not a symptom of agitation appeared either in his face orthe attitude of his body: he had the bearing of a man who is meditatingin his cabinet on the subject of his studies, or in a temple on theaffairs of heaven. Even when the executioner, in a rough voice, proclaimed his crime and its penalty, the constant serenity of hisfeatures was not at all altered. When the order was given him todismount from the tumbrel, he obeyed cheerfully without hesitating;nevertheless he had not about him any of that audacity, that arrogance, which in the case of malefactors is sometimes bred of their naturalsavagery; everything about him bore evidence to the tranquillity of agood conscience. Before he died he made a speech to the people; butnone could hear him, so great was the noise which the soldiers made, according, it is said, to the orders they had received. When the cordwhich bound him to the post suffocated his voice, not a soul in the crowdejaculated the name of Jesus, whom it is customary to invoke even infavor of parricides and the sacrilegious, to such extent was themultitude excited against him by those folks who are to be foundeverywhere, and who can do anything with the feelings of the simple andignorant. " Theodore de Beze adds that the grand penitentiary of Paris, Merlin, who was present at the execution, said, as he withdrew from thestill smoking stake, "I never saw any one die more Christianly. " Theimpressions and expressions of the crowd, as they dispersed, were verydiverse; but the majority cried, "He was a heretic. " Others said, "Godis the only just Judge, and happy is the man whom He absolves. " Somesaid below their breath, "It is only through the cross that Christ willtriumph in the kingdom of the Gauls. " A man went up to the Franciscanmonk who had placed himself at Berquin's side in the procession, and hadentreated him without getting from him anything but silence, and askedhim, "Did Berquin say that he had erred?" "Yes, certainly, " answered themonk, "and I doubt not but that his soul hath departed in peace. " Thisexpression was reported to Erasmus; but "I don't believe it, " said he;"it is the story that these fellows are obliged to invent after theirvictim's death, to appease the wrath of the people. "

We have dwelt in detail upon these two martyrs, Leclerc and Berquin, thewool-carder and the scholarly gentleman, because they are faithful andvivid representatives of the two classes amongst which, in the sixteenthcentury, the Reformation took root in France. It had a double origin, morally and socially, one amongst the people and the other amongst thearistocratic and the learned; it was not national, nor was it embraced bythe government of the country. Persecution was its first and its onlydestiny in the reign of Francis I. , and it went through the ordeal withadmirable courage and patience; it resisted only in the form ofmartyrdom. We will give no more of such painful and hideous pictures; inconnection with this subject, and as regards the latter portion of thisreign, we will dwell upon only those general facts which bear the impressof public morals and the conduct of the government rather than of thefortunes and the feelings of individuals. It was after Francis I. 's timethat the Reformation, instead of confining itself to submitting withdignity to persecution, made a spirited effort to escape from it bybecoming a political party, and taking up, in France, the task of theopposition--a liberal and an energetic opposition, which claims itsrights and its securities. It then took its place in French history as agreat public power, organized and commanded by great leaders, and nolonger as a multitude of scattered victims falling one after another, without a struggle, beneath the blows of their persecutors. 

The martyrdom of Berquin put a stop to the attempt at quasi-tolerance infavor of aristocratic and learned Reformers which Francis I. Had essayedto practise; after having twice saved Berquin from a heretic's doom, hefailed to save him ultimately; and, except the horrible details ofbarbarity in the execution, the scholarly gentleman received the samemeasure as the wool-carder, after having been, like him, true to hisfaith and to his dignity as a man and a Christian. Persecutionthenceforward followed its course without the king putting himself to thetrouble of applying the drag for anybody; his sister Marguerite alonecontinued to protect, timidly and dejectedly, those of her friendsamongst the reformers whom she could help or to whom she could offer anasylum in Bearn without embroiling herself with the king, her brother, and with the Parliaments. We will not attempt to enumerate themartyrdoms which had to be undergone by the persevering Reformers inFrance between 1529 and 1547, from the death of Louis de Berquin to thatof Francis I. ; the task would be too long and intermingled with too manypetty questions of dates or proper names; we will confine ourselves toquoting some local computations and to conning over the great historicfacts which show to what extent the persecution was general andunrelenting, though it was ineffectual, in the end, to stifle theReformation and to prevent the bursting out of those religious warswhich, from the death of Francis I. To the accession of Henry IV. , smothered France in disaster, blood, and crime. 

In the reign of Francis I. , from 1524 to 1547, eighty-one death-sentencesfor heresy were executed. At Paris only, from the 10th of November tothe 2d of May, a space of some six months, one hundred and two sentencesto death by fire for heresy were pronounced; twenty-seven were executed;two did not take place, because those who ought to have undergone themdenounced other Reformers to save themselves; and seventy-three succeededin escaping by flight. The _Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris_ (pp. 444-450) does not mention sentences to lesser penalties. In a provincialtown, whose history one of its most distinguished inhabitants, M. Boutiot, has lately written from authentic documents and localtraditions, at Troyes in fact, in 1542 and 1546, two burgesses, one aclerk and the other a publisher, were sentenced to the stake and executedfor the crime of heresy: "on an appeal being made by the publisher, MaceMoreau, the Parliament of Paris confirmed the sentence pronounced by thebailiff's court, " and he underwent his punishment on the Place St. Pierrewith the greatest courage. The decree of the Parliament contains themost rigorous enactments against books in the French language treating ofreligious matters; and it enjoins upon all citizens the duty ofdenouncing those who, publicly or not, make profession of the newdoctrine. "The Lutheran propaganda, " say the documents, "is in greatforce throughout the diocese; it exercises influence not only on theclass of artisans, but also amongst the burgesses. Doubt has made itsway into many honest souls. The Reformation has reached so far evenwhere the schism is not complete. Catholic priests profess some of thenew doctrines, at the same time that they remain attached to theiroffices. Many bishops declare themselves partisans of the reformistdoctrines. The Protestant worship, however, is not yet openly conducted. The mass of the clergy do not like to abandon the past; they cling totheir old traditions, and, if they have renounced certain abuses, theyyield only on a few points of little importance. The new ideas arespreading, even in the country. . . . Statues representing the Virginand the saints are often broken, and these deeds are imputed to those whohave adopted the doctrines of Luther and of Calvin. A Notre-Dame dePitie, situated at the Hotel-Dieule-Comte, was found with its headbroken. This event excites to madness the Catholic population. Thepersecutions continue. " Many people emigrated for fear of the stake. "From August, 1552, to the 6th of January, 1555, " says the chronicler, "Troyes loses in consequence of exile, probably voluntary, a certainnumber of its best inhabitants, " and he names thirteen families with thestyle and title of "nobleman. " He adds, "There is scarcely a month inthe year when there are not burned two or three heretics at Paris, Meaux, and Troyes, and sometimes more than a dozen. " Troyes contained, at thattime, says M. Boutiot, eighteen thousand two hundred and eighty-fiveinhabitants, counting five persons to a household. [Histoire de la Villede Troyes, t. Iii. Pp. 381, 387, 398, 415, 431. ] Many other provincialtowns offered the same spectacle. 

During the long truce which succeeded the peace of Cambrai, from 1532 to1536, it might have been thought for a while that the persecution inFrance was going to be somewhat abated. Policy obliged Francis I. Toseek the support of the Protestants of Germany against Charles V. ; he wasincessantly fluctuating between that policy and a strictly Catholic andpapal policy; by marrying his son Henry, on the 28th of October, 1533, to Catherine de' Medici, niece of Pope Clement VII. , he seemed to havedecided upon the latter course; but he had afterwards made a movement inthe contrary direction; Clement VII. Had died on the 26th of September, 1524; Paul III. Had succeeded him; and Francis I. Again turned towardsthe Protestants of Germany; he entered into relations with the mostmoderate amongst their theologians, with Melancthon, Bucer, and Sturm;there was some talk of conciliation, of a re-establishment of peace andharmony in the church; nor did the king confine himself to speaking bythe mouth of diplomatists; he himself wrote to Melancthon, on the 23d ofJune, 1535, "It is some time now since I heard from William du Bellay, mychamberlain and councillor, of the zeal with which you are exertingyourself to appease the altercations to which Christian doctrine hasgiven rise. I now hear that you are very much disposed to come to us forto confer with some of our most distinguished doctors as to the means ofre-establishing in the church that sublime harmony which is the chief ofall my desires. Come, then, either in an official capacity or in yourown private character; you will be most welcome to me, and you shall ineither case have proof of the interest I feel in the glory of your ownGermany and in the peace of the world. " Melancthon had, indeed, shown aninclination to repair to Paris; he had written, on the 9th of May, 1535, to his friend Sturm, "I will not let myself be stopped by domestic tiesor by fear of danger. There is no human greatness before which I do notprefer Christ's glory. One thought alone gives me pause: I doubt myability to do any good; I fear it is impossible to obtain from the kingthat which I regard as necessary for the Lord's glory and for the peaceof France. You know that kingdom. Pronounce your judgment. If youthink that I shall do well to undertake the journey, I am off. "

Melancthon had good reason to doubt whether success, such as he deemednecessary, were possible. Whilst Francis I. Was making all theseadvances to the Protestants of Germany, he was continuing to proceedagainst their brother Christians in France more bitterly and moreflagrantly than ever. Two recent events had very much envenomed partyfeeling between the French Catholics and Reformers, and the king had beenvery much compromised in this fresh crisis of the struggle. In 1534 thelawless insurrection of Anabaptists and peasants, which had so violentlyagitated Germany in 1525, began again; the insurgents seized the town ofMunster, in Westphalia, and there renewed their attempt to found thekingdom of Israel, with community of property and polygamy. As in 1525, they were promptly crushed by the German princes, Catholic andProtestant, of the neighborhood; but their rising had created somereverberation in France, and the Reformers had been suspected of aninclination to take part in it. "It is said, " wrote the Chancellor deGranvelle, in January, 1535, to the ambassador of France at the court ofCharles V. , "that the number of the strayed from the faith in France, andthe danger of utter confusion, are very great; the enterprise of the saidstrayed, about which you write to me, to set fire to the churches andpillage the Louvre, proves that they were in great force. Please God theking may be able to apply a remedy!" [_Papiers d'Etat du Cardinal deGranvelle, _ t. Ii. P. 283. ] The accusation was devoid of all foundation;but nothing is absurd in the eyes of party hatred and suspicion, and anincident, almost contemporaneous with the fresh insurrection of theAnabaptists, occurred to increase the king's wrath, as well as thepeople's, against the Reformers, and to rekindle the flames ofpersecution. On the 24th of October, 1534, placards against the mass, transubstantiation, and the regimen as well as the faith of the Catholicchurch, were posted up during the night in the thoroughfares of Paris, and at Blois on the very chamberdoor of Francis I. , whose first glance, when he got up in the morning, they caught. They had been printed atNeufchatel, in Switzerland, where the influence of the refugee WilliamFarel was strong, and their coarse violence of expression could not failto excite the indignation of even the most indifferent Catholics. Intheir fanatical blindness factions say only what satisfies their ownpassions, without considering moral propriety or the effect which will beproduced by their words upon the feelings of their adversaries, who alsohave creeds and passions. Francis I. , equally shocked and irritated, determined to give the Catholic faith striking satisfaction, andProtestant audacity a bloody lesson. On the 21st of January, 1535, asolemn procession issued from the church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois. John du Bellay, Bishop of Paris, held in his hands the holy sacrament, surrounded by the three sons of France and the Duke de Vendome, who werethe dais-bearers; and the king walked behind, with a taper in his hand, between the Cardinals of Bourbon and Lorraine. At each halting-place hehanded his taper to the Cardinal of Lorraine, folded his hands, andhumbly prostrating himself, implored divine mercy for his people. Afterthe procession was over, the king, who had remained to dine with John duBellay, assembled in the great hall of the palace the heads of all thecompanies, and taking his place on a sort of throne which had beenprepared for him, said, "Whatever progress may have already been made bythe pest, the remedy is still easy if each of you, devoured by the samezeal as I, will forget the claims of flesh and blood to remember onlythat he is a Christian, and will denounce without pity all those whom heknows to be partisans or favorers of heresy. As for me, if my arm weregangrened, I would have it cut off though it were my right arm, and if mysons who hear me were such wretches as to fall into such execrable andaccursed opinions, I would be willing to give them up to make a sacrificeof them to God. " On the 29th of January there was published an edictwhich sentenced concealers of heretics, "Lutheran or other, " to the samepenalties as the said heretics, unless they denounced their guests tojustice; and a quarter of the property to be confiscated was secured tothe denouncers. Fifteen days previously Francis I. Had signed a decreestill stranger for a king who was a protector of letters; he ordered theabolition of printing, that means of propagating heresies, and "forbadethe printing of any book on pain of the halter. " Six weeks later, however, on the 26th of February, he became ashamed of such an act, andsuspended its execution indefinitely. Punishments in abundance precededand accompanied the edicts; from the 10th of November, 1534, to the 3d ofMay, 1535, twenty-four heretics were burned alive in Paris, withoutcounting many who were sentenced to less cruel penalties. The procedurehad been made more rapid; the police commissioner of the Chatelet dealtwith cases summarily, and the Parliament confirmed. The victims had atfirst been strangled before they were burned; they were now burned alive, after the fashion of the Spanish Inquisition. The convicts weresuspended by iron chains to beams which alternately "hoisted" and"lowered" them over the flames until the executioner cut the cord to letthe sufferer fall. The evidence was burned together with the convicts;it was undesirable that the Reformers should be able to make a certifiedcollection of their martyrs' acts and deeds. 

After a detailed and almost complacent enumeration of all theseexecutions, we find in the _Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris_ thisparagraph: "The rumor was, in June, 1535, that Pope Paul III. , beingadvertised of the execrable and horrible justice which the king was doingupon the Lutherans in his kingdom, did send word to the King of Francethat he was advertised of it, and that he was quite willing to supposethat he did it in good part, as he still made use of the beautiful titlehe had to be called the Most Christian king; nevertheless, God theCreator, when he was in this world, made more use of mercy than ofrigorous justice, which should never be used rigorously; and that it wasa cruel death to burn a man alive because he might have to some extentrenounced the faith and the law. Wherefore the pope did pray and requestthe king, by his letters, to be pleased to mitigate the fury and rigor ofhis justice by granting grace and pardon. The king, wishing to followthe pope's wishes, according as he had sent him word by his letterspatent, sent word to the court of Parliament not to proceed any more withsuch rigor as they had shown heretofore. For this cause were there nomore rigorous proceedings on the part of justice. " [_Journal d'unBourgeois de Paris, _ p. 456. ]

Search has been made to discover whether the assertion of the Bourgeoisde Paris has any foundation, whether Pope Paul III. Really did write inJune, 1535, the letter attributed to him, and whether its effect was, that the king wrote to Parliament not to proceed against the Reformers"with such rigor. " No proof has, however, been obtained as to theauthenticity of the pope's letter, and in any case it was not veryeffectual, for the same _Bourgeois de Paris_ reports, that in September, 1535, three months after that, according to him, it was written: Twofellows, makers of silk ribbons and tissues, were burned all alive, onein the Place Maubert and the other in St. John's cemetery, as Lutherans, which they were. They had handed over to their host at Paris someLutheran books to take care of, saying, 'Keep this book for us while wego into the city, and show it to nobody. ' When they were gone, this hostwas not able to refrain from showing this book to a certain priest, thewhich, after having looked at it, said incontinently, 'This is a verywicked book, and proscribed. ' Then the said host went to thecommissioner of police to reveal that he had such and such a book of suchan one, the which sent forth with to the house of the said host to takeand carry off the said two fellows to the Chatelet. Being questioned, they confessed the state of the case. Whereupon, by sentence of the saidcommissioner, confirmed by decree, "they made honorable amends in front ofthe church of Notre-Dame de Paris, had their tongues cut out, and wereburned all alive and with unshaken obstinacy. " Proceedings andexecutions, then, did not cease, even in the case of the most humbleclass of Reformers, and at the very moment when Francis I. Was exertinghimself to win over the Protestants of Germany with the cry ofconciliation and re-establishment of harmony in the church. Melancthon, Bucer, and Luther himself had allowed themselves to be tempted by theprospect; but the German politicians, princes, and counsellors were moreclear-sighted. "We at Augsburg, " wrote Sailer, deputy from that city, "know the King of France well; he cares very little for religion, or evenfor morality. He plays the hypocrite with the pope, and gives theGermans the smooth side of his tongue, thinking of nothing but how tocheat them of the hopes he gives them. His only aim is to crush theemperor. " The attempt of Francis I. Thus failed, first in Germany, andthen at Paris also, where the Sorbonne was not disposed, any more thanthe German politicians were, to listen to any talk about a speciousconciliation; and the persecution resumed its course in France, pavingthe way for civil war. 

The last and most atrocious act of persecution in the reign of Francis I. Was directed not against isolated individuals, but against a wholepopulation, harried, despoiled, and banished or exterminated on accountof heresy. About the year 1525 small churches of Reformers began toassume organization between the Alps and the Jura. Something was theresaid about Christians who belonged to the Reformation without having everbeen reformed. It was said that, in certain valleys of the PiedmonteseAlps and Dauphiny and in certain quarters of Provence, there were to befound believers who for several centuries had recognized no authoritysave that of the Holy Scriptures. Some called them Vaudians(Waldensians), others poor of Lyons, others Lutherans. The rumor of theReformation was heard in their valleys, and created a lively emotionamongst them. One of them determined to go and see what this reformationwas; and he returned to his valleys with good news and with pious books. Regular relations were from that time established between the Reformersof Switzerland, France, and Germany, and the Christian shepherds of thesemountains. Visits were exchanged Farel and Saunier went amongst theVaudians and conversed with them about their common faith, common inspite of certain differences. Rustic conferences, composed of theprincipal landholders, barbas or pastors, and simple members of thefaithful, met more than once in the open air under the pines of theirmountains. The Vaudians of Provence had been settled there since the endof the thirteenth century; and in the course of the fourteenth otherVaudians from Dauphiny, and even from Calabria, had come thither to jointhem. "Their barbas, " says a contemporary monk [_Histoire des Guerresexcitees dans le Comtat venaissin par les Calvinistes du seizieme siecle, par le pere Justin, capucin_], "used to preside at their exercises ofreligion, which were performed in secret. As they were observed to bequiet and circumspect, as they faithfully paid taxes, tithe, andseigniorial dues, and as they were besides very laborious, they were nottroubled on the score of their habits and doctrines. " Their new friendsfrom Switzerland and Germany reproached them with concealment of theirfaith and worship. As soon as they had overtly separated from the Romanchurch, persecution began; Francis I. Checked its first excesses, but itsoon began again; the episcopal prisons were filled with Vaudians, whobristled at the summons to abjure; and on the 29th of March, 1535, thirteen of them were sentenced to be burned alive. Pope Paul III. Complained to Francis I. Of their obstinacy; the king wrote about it tothe Parliament of Aix; the Parliament ordered the lords of the landsoccupied by the Vaudians to force their vassals to abjure or leave thecountry. When cited to appear before the court of Aix to explain thegrounds of their refusal, several declined. The court sentenced them, indefault, to be burned alive. Their friends took up arms and went todeliver the prisoners. Merindol was understood to be the principalretreat of the sectaries; by decree of November 18, 1540, the Parliamentordered that "the houses should be demolished and razed to the ground, the cellars filled up, the woods cut down, the trees of the gardens tornup, and that the lands of those who had lived in Merindol should not beable to be farmed out to anybody whatever of their family or name. " Inthe region of Parliament itself complaints were raised against suchhardships; the premier president, Barthelemy Chassaneuz, was touched, andadjourned the execution of the decree. The king commissioned William duBellay to examine into the facts; the report of Du Bellay was favorableto the Vaudians, as honest, laborious, and charitable farmers, discharging all the duties of civil life; but, at the same time, heacknowledged that they did not conform to the laws of the church, thatthey did not recognize the pope or the bishops, that they prayed in thevulgar tongue, and that they were in the habit of choosing certainpersons from amongst themselves to be their pastors. On this report, Francis I. , by a declaration of February 18, 1541, pardoned the Vaudiansfor all that had been irregular in their conduct, on condition thatwithin the space of three months they should abjure their errors; and heordered the Parliament to send to Aix deputies from their towns, burghs, and villages, to make abjuration in the name of all, at the same timeauthorizing the Parliament to punish, according to the ordinances, thosewho should refuse to obey, and to make use, if need were, of the servicesof the soldiery. Thus persecuted and condemned for their mere faith, undemonstrative as it was, the Vaudians confined themselves to askingthat it might be examined and its errors pointed out. Those of Merindoland those of Cabriere in the countship of Venasque drew up theirprofession of faith and sent it to the king and to two bishops of theprovince, Cardinal Sadolet, Bishop of Carpentras, and John Durandi, Bishop of Cavaillon, whose equity and moderation inspired them with someconfidence. Cardinal Sadolet did not belie their expectation; hereceived them with kindness, discussed with them their profession offaith, pointed out to them divers articles which might be remodelledwithout disavowing the basis of their creed, and assured them that itwould always be against his sentiments to have them treated as enemies. "I am astonished, " he wrote to the pope, "that these folks should bepersecuted when the Jews are spared. " The Bishop of Cavaillon testifiedtowards them a favor less unalloyed: "I was quite sure, " said he, "thatthere was not so much mischief amongst you as was supposed; however, tocalm men's minds, it is necessary that you should submit to a certainappearance of abjuration. " "But what would you have us abjure, if we arealready within the truth?" "It is but a simple formality that I demandof you; I do not require in your case notary or signature; if you areunwilling to assent to this abjuration, none can argue you into it. " "Weare plain men, monseigneur; we are unwilling to do anything to which wecannot assent;" and they persisted in their refusal to abjure. CardinalSadolet was summoned to Rome, and the premier president Chassaneuz diedsuddenly. His successor, John de Maynier, Baron of Oppede, was a violentman, passionately bigoted, and moreover, it is said, a personal enemy ofthe Vaudians of Cabrieres, on which his estates bordered; he recommencedagainst them a persecution which was at first covert; they had foundprotectors in Switzerland and in Germany; at the instance of Calvin, theSwiss Protestant cantons and the German princes assembled at Smalkaldenwrote to Francis I. In their favor; it was to his interest to humor theProtestants of Germany, and that fact turned out to the advantage of theVaudians of Provence; on the 14th of June, 1544, he issued an edictwhich, suspending the proceedings commenced against them, restored tothem their privileges, and ordered such of them as were prisoners to beset at large; "and as the attorney-general of Provence, " it goes on tosay, "is related to the Archbishop of Aix, their sworn enemy, there willbe sent in his place a counsellor of the court for to inform me of theirinnocence. " But some months later the peace of Crespy was made; andFrancis I. Felt no longer the same solicitude about humoring theProtestants of Switzerland and Germany. Baron d'Oppede zealously resumedhis work against the Vaudians; he accused them of intriguing; withforeign Reformers, and of designing to raise fifteen thousand men tosurprise Marseilles and form Provence into a republic. On the 1st ofJanuary, 1545, Francis I. Signed, without reading it they say, therevocation of his edict of 1544, and ordered execution of the decreeissued by the Parliament of Aix, dated November 18, 1540, on the subjectof the Vaudians, "notwithstanding all letters of grace posterior to thatepoch, and ordered the governor of the province to give, for thatpurpose, the assistance of the strong hand to justice. " The duty ofassisting justice was assigned to Baron d'Oppede; and from the 7th to the25th of April, 1545, two columns of troops, under the orders, respectively, of Oppede himself and Baron de la Garde, ravaged with fireand sword the three districts of Merindol, Cabrieres, and La Coste, whichwere peopled chiefly by Vaudians. 

[Illustration: Massacre of the Vaudians----218]

We shrink from describing in detail all the horrors committed against apopulation without any means of self-defence by troops giving free reinto their brutal passions and gratifying the hateful passions of theirleaders. In the end three small towns and twenty-two villages werecompletely sacked; seven hundred and sixty-three houses, eighty-ninecattle-sheds, and thirty-one barns burned; three thousand personsmassacred; two hundred and fifty-five executed subsequently to themassacre, after a mockery of trial; six or seven hundred sent to thegalleys; many children sold for slaves; and the victors, on retiring, left behind them a double ordinance, from the Parliament of Aix and thevice-legate of Avignon, dated the 24th of April, 1545, forbidding "thatany one, on pain of death, should dare to give asylum, aid, or succor, orfurnish money or victuals, to any Vaudian or heretic. "

It is said that Francis I. , when near his end, repented of this odiousextermination of a small population, which, with his usual fickleness andcarelessness, he had at one time protected, and at another abandoned toits enemies. Amongst his last words to his son Henry II. Was anexhortation to cause an inquiry to be made into the iniquities committedby the Parliament of Aix in this instance. It will be seen, at theopening of Henry II. 's reign, what was the result of this exhortation ofhis father's. 

Calvin was lately mentioned as having pleaded the cause of the Vaudians, in 1544, amongst the Protestants of Switzerland and Germany. It was fromGeneva, where he had lived and been the dominant spirit for many years, that the French Reformer had exercised such influence over the chiefs ofthe German Reformation in favor of that small population whose creed andmorals had anticipated by several centuries the Reformation in thesixteenth century. He was born, in 1509 at Noyon in Picardy, was broughtup in the bosom of the Catholic church, and held a cure in 1527 atPont-l'Eveque, where he preached several times, "joyous and almostproud, " as he said himself, "that a single dissertation had brought mea cure. " In 1534, study, meditation on the Gospels, discussion of thereligious and moral questions raised on every side, and the freeatmosphere of the new spirit that was abroad, changed his convictions andhis resolves; he abandoned the career of the law as well as that of theestablished church, resigned his cure at Pont-l'Eveque, and devotedhimself entirely to the work of the nascent and much opposed Reformation. Having a mind that was judicious and free from illusion in the very heatof passion, he soon saw to what an extent the success of the Reformationin France was difficult and problematical; in 1535, impressed by theobstacles it met with even more than by the dangers it evoked, heresolved to leave his country and go else whither in search of security, liberty, and the possibility of defending a cause which became the dearerto him in proportion as it was the more persecuted. He had too muchsagacity not to perceive that he was rapidly exhausting his variousplaces of asylum: Queen Marguerite of Navarre was unwilling to try toofar the temper of the king her brother; Canon Louis du Tillet was alittle fearful lest his splendid library should be somewhat endangeredthrough the use made of it by his guest, who went about, arguing orpreaching, in the vicinity of Angouleme; the queen's almoner, GerardRoussel, considered that Calvin was going too far, and grew apprehensivelest, if the Reformation should completely succeed, it might suppress thebishopric of Oleron which he desired, and which, indeed, he at a laterperiod obtained. Lefevre of Etaples, who was the most of all in sympathywith Calvin, was seventy-nine years old, and had made up his mind to passhis last days in peace. Calvin quitted Angouleme and Nerac, and went topass some time at Poitiers, where the friends of the Reformation, assembling round him and hanging upon his words, for the first timecelebrated the Lord's Supper in a grotto close to the town, which stillgoes by the name of Calvin's Grotto. Being soon obliged to leavePoitiers, Calvin went to Orleans, then secretly to Paris, then to Noyonto see his family once more, and set out at last for Strasbourg, alreadyone of the strongholds of the Reformation, where he had friends, amongstothers the learned Bucer, with whom he had kept up a constantcorrespondence. He arrived there at the beginning of the year 1535; butit was not at Strasbourg that he took up his quarters; he preferred Bale, where also there was a reunion of men of letters, scholars, andcelebrated printers, Erasmus, Simon Grynee (Grymeus), and the Frobens, and where Calvin calculated upon finding the leisure and aid he requiredfor executing the great work he had been for some time contemplating--his_Institution de la Religion chretienne_ (Christian Institutes). Thiswould not be the place, and we have no intention, to sum up the religiousdoctrines of that book; we might challenge many of them as contrary tothe true meaning and moral tendency of Christianity; but we desire to setin a clear light their distinctive and original characteristics, whichare those of Calvin himself in the midst of his age. Thesecharacteristics are revealed in the preface and even in the dedication ofthe book. It is to Francis I. , the persecutor of the French Reformers, during one of the most cruel stages of the persecution, and at the verymoment when he had just left his own country in order that he may live insecurity and speak with freedom, that Calvin dedicates his work. "Do notimagine, " he says to the king, "that I am attempting here my own specialdefence in order to obtain permission to return to the country of mybirth, from which, although I feel for it such human affection as is mybounden duty, yet, as things are now, I do not suffer any great anguishat being cut off. But I am taking up the cause of all the faithful, andeven that of Christ, which is in these days so mangled and down-troddenin your kingdom that it seems to be in a desperate plight. And this hasno doubt come to pass rather through the tyranny of certain Phariseesthan of your own will. " Calvin was at the same time the boldest and theleast revolutionary amongst the innovators of the sixteenth century; boldas a Christian thinker, but full of deference and consideration towardsauthority, even when he was flagrantly withdrawing himself from it. Theidea of his book was at first exclusively religious, and intended for thebulk of the French Reformers; but at the moment when Calvin is about topublish it, prudence and policy recur to his mind, and it is to the Kingof France that he addresses himself; it is the authority of the royalpersecutor that he invokes; it is the reason of Francis I. That heattempts to convince. He acts like a respectful and faithful subject, as well as an independent and innovating Christian. 

[Illustration: Calvin----222]

After having wandered for some time longer in Switzerland, Germany, andItaly, Calvin in 1536 arrived at Geneva. It was at this time a smallindependent republic, which had bravely emancipated itself from thedomination of the Dukes of Savoy, and in which the Reformation hadacquired strength, but it had not yet got rid of that lawless andprecarious condition which is the first phase presented by revolutionaryinnovations after victory; neither the political nor the religiouscommunity at Geneva had yet received any organization which could becalled regular or regarded as definitive; the two communities had not yetunderstood and regulated their reciprocal positions and the terms onwhich they were to live together. All was ferment and haze in thislittle nascent state, as regarded the mental as well as the actualcondition, when Calvin arrived there; his name was already almost famousthere; he had given proofs of devotion to the cause of the Reformation;his book on the _Institution de la Religion chretienne_ had justappeared; a great instinct for organization was strikingly evinced in it, at the same time that the dedication to Francis I. Testified to a seriousregard for the principle of authority and for its rights, as well as thepart it ought to perform in human communities. Calvin had many friendsin Switzerland, and they urged him to settle at once at Geneva, and tolabor at establishing there Christian order in the Reformed churchsimultaneously with its independence and its religious liberties in itsrelations with the civil estate. At first Calvin hesitated and resisted;he was one of those who take strict account, beforehand, of thedifficulties to be encountered and the trials to be undergone in anyenterprise for the success of which they are most desirous, and whoinwardly shudder at the prospect of such a burden. But the Christian'sduty, the Reformer's zeal, the lively apprehension of the perils whichwere being incurred by the cause of the Reformation, and the noblyambitious hope of delivering it, --these sentiments united prevailed overthe first misgivings of that great and mighty soul, and Calvin devotedhimself in Geneva to a work which, from 1536 to 1564, in a course ofviolent struggles and painful vicissitudes, was to absorb and rapidlyconsume his whole life. 

From that time forth a principle, we should rather say a passion, heldsway in Calvin's heart, and was his guiding star in the permanentorganization of the church which he founded, as well as in his personalconduct during his life. That principle is the profound distinctionbetween the religious and the civil community. Distinction we say, andby no means separation; Calvin, on the contrary, desired alliance betweenthe two communities and the two powers, but each to be independent in itsown domain, combining their action, showing mutual respect and lendingmutual support. To this alliance he looked for the reformation and moraldiscipline of the members of the church placed under the authority of itsown special religious officers and upheld by the indirect influence ofthe civil power. 

In this principle and this fundamental labor of Calvin's there were twonew and bold reforms attempted in the very heart of the great Reformationin Europe, and over and above the work of its first promoters. HenryVIII. , on removing the church of England from the domination of thepapacy, had proclaimed himself its head, and the church of England hadaccepted this royal supremacy. Zwingle, when he provoked in GermanSwitzerland the rupture with the church of Rome, had approved of thearrangement that the sovereign authority in matters of religion shouldpass into the hands of the civil powers. Luther himself, at the sametime that he reserved to the new German church a certain measure ofspontaneity and liberty, had placed it under the protection andpreponderance of laic sovereigns. In this great question as to therelations between church and state Calvin desired and did more than hispredecessors; even before he played any considerable part in the EuropeanReformation, as soon as he heard of Henry VIII. 's religious supremacy inEngland, he had strongly declared against such a regimen; with anequitable spirit rare in his day, and in spite of his contest with thechurch of Rome, he was struck with the strength and dignity conferredupon that church by its having an existence distinct from the civilcommunity, and by the independence of its head. When he himself became agreat Reformer, he did not wish the Reformed church to lose this grandcharacteristic; whilst proclaiming it evangelical, he demanded for it inmatters of faith and discipline the independence and special authoritywhich had been possessed by the primitive church; and in spite of theresistance often shown to him by the civil magistrates, in spite of theconcessions he was sometimes obliged to make to them, he firmlymaintained this principle, and he secured to the Reformed churchof Geneva, in purely religious questions and affairs, the right ofself-government, according to the faith and the law as they standwritten in the Holy Books. 

He at the same time put in force in this church a second principle of noless importance. In the course of ages, and by a series of successivemodifications, some natural and others factitious and illegitimate, theChristian church had become, so to speak, cut in two, into theecclesiastical community and the religious community, the clergy and theworshippers. In the Catholic church the power was entirely in the handsof the clergy; the ecclesiastical body completely governed the religiousbody; and, whilst the latter was advancing more and more in laic ideasand sentiments, the former remained even more and more distinct andsovereign. The German and English Reformations had already modified thisstate of things, and given to the lay community a certain portion ofinfluence in religious questions and affairs. Calvin provided for thematter in a still more direct and effectual fashion, not only as regardedaffairs in general, but even the choice of pastors; he gave admission tolaymen, in larger number too than that of the ecclesiastics, into theconsistories and synods, the governing authorities in the Reformedchurch. He thus did away with the separation between the clergy and theworshippers; he called upon them to deliberate and act together; and hesecured to the religious community, in its entirety, their share ofauthority in the affairs and fortunes of the church. 

Thus began at Geneva, under the inspiration and through the influence ofCalvin, that ecclesiastical organization which, developing, completing, and modifying itself according to the requirements of places and times, became, under the name of Presbyterian regimen, the regimen of theReformed churches in France, French Switzerland, Holland, Scotland, andamongst a considerable portion of the Protestant population in Englandand in the United States of America--a regimen evangelical in origin andcharacter, republican in some of its maxims and institutions, but nostranger to the principle of authority, one which admitted of disciplineand was calculated for duration, and which has kept for three centuries, amongst the most civilized people, a large measure of Christian faith, ecclesiastical order, and civil liberty. It was a French refugee whoinstituted, in a foreign city, this regimen, and left it as a legacy tothe French Reformation and to the numerous Christian communities who wereeager to adopt it. It is on this ground that Calvin takes a place in thehistory of France, and has a fair right to be counted amongst the eminentmen who have carried to a distance the influence, the language, and thefame of the country in the bosom of which it was not permitted them tolive and labor. In 1547, when the death of Francis I. Was at hand, thatecclesiastical organization of Protestantism which Calvin had institutedat Geneva was not even begun in France. The French Protestants were asyet but isolated and scattered individuals, without any bond of generallyaccepted and practised faith or discipline, and without any eminent andrecognized heads. The Reformation pursued its course; but a Reformedchurch did not exist. And this confused mass of Reformers and Reformedhad to face an old, a powerful, and a strongly constituted church, whichlooked upon the innovators as rebels over whom it had every right as muchas against them it had every arm. In each of the two camps prevailederrors of enormous magnitude, and fruitful of fatal consequences;Catholics and Protestants both believed themselves to be in exclusivepossession of the truth, of all religious truth, and to have the right ofimposing it by force upon their adversaries the moment they had thepower. Both were strangers to any respect for human conscience, humanthought, and human liberty. Those who had clamored for this on their ownaccount when they were weak had no regard for it in respect of otherswhen they felt themselves to be strong. On the side of the Protestantsthe ferment was at full heat, but as yet vague and unsettled; on the partof the Catholics the persecution was unscrupulous and unlimited. Such wasthe position and such the state of feeling in which Francis I. , at hisdeath on the 31st of March, 1547, left the two parties that had alreadybeen at grips during his reign. He had not succeeded either inreconciling them or in securing the triumph of that which had his favorand the defeat of that which he would have liked to vanquish. That was, in nearly all that he undertook, his fate; he lacked the spirit ofsequence and steady persistence, and his merits as well as his defectsalmost equally urged him on to rashly attempt that which he onlyincompletely executed. He was neither prudent nor persevering, and hemay be almost said to have laid himself out to please everybody ratherthan to succeed in one and the same great purpose. A short time beforehis death a Venetian ambassador who had resided a long while at hiscourt, Marino Cavalli, drew up and forwarded to the Senate of Venice aportrait of him so observantly sketched and so full of truth that it mustbe placed here side by side with the more exacting and more severejudgment already pronounced here touching this brilliant but by no meansfar-sighted or effective king. 

"The king is now fifty years of age; his aspect is in every respectkingly, insomuch that, without ever having seen his face or his portrait, any one, on merely looking at him, would say at once: 'That is the king. 'All his movements are so noble and majestic that no prince could equalthem. His constitution is robust, in spite of the excessive fatigue hehas constantly undergone and still undergoes in so many expeditions andtravels. He eats and drinks a great deal, sleeps still better, and, whatis more, dreams of nothing but leading a jolly life. He is rather fondof being an exquisite in his dress, which is slashed and laced, and richwith jewelry and precious stones; even his doublets are daintily workedand of golden tissue; his shirt is very fine, and it shows through anopening in the doublet, according to the fashion of France. Thisdelicate and dainty way of living contributes to his health. Inproportion as the king bears bodily fatigue well, and endures it withoutbending beneath the burden, in the same proportion do mental cares weighheavily upon him, and he shifts them almost entirely on to Cardinal deTournon and Admiral Annebault. He takes no resolve, he makes no reply, without having had their advice; and if ever, which is very rare, ananswer happens to be given or a concession made without having receivedthe approval of these two advisers, he revokes it or modifies it. But inwhat concerns the great affairs of state, peace or war, his Majesty, docile as he is in everything else, will have the rest obedient to hiswishes. In that case there is nobody at court, whatever authority he maypossess, who dare gainsay his Majesty. This prince has a very soundjudgment and a great deal of information; there is no sort of thing, orstudy or art, about which he cannot converse very much to the point. Itis true that, when people see how, in spite of his knowledge and his finetalk, all his warlike enterprises have turned out ill, they say that allhis wisdom lies on his lips, and not in his mind. But I think that thecalamities of this king come from lack of men capable of properlycarrying out his designs. As for him, he will never have anything to dowith the execution, or even with the superintendence of it in any way; itseems to him quite enough to know his own part, which is to command andto supply plans. Accordingly, that which might be wished for in him isa little more care and patience, not by any means more experience andknowledge. His Majesty readily pardons offences; and he becomes heartilyreconciled with those whom he has offended. " [_Relations desAmbassadeurs venitiens sur les Affaires de France au seizieme siecle, inthe Documents inedits sur l'Histoire de France, _ translated by M. Tommaseo, t. I. Pp. 279-283. ]

It is said that at the close of his reign Francis I. , in spite of all theresources of his mind and all his easy-going qualities, was muchdepressed, and that he died in sadness and disquietude as to the future. One may be inclined to think that, in his egotism, he was more sad on hisown account than disquieted on that of his successors and of France. However that may be, he was assuredly far from foreseeing the terriblecivil war which began after him, and the crimes, as well as disasters, which it caused. None of his more intimate circle was any longer in aposition to excite his solicitude: his mother, Louise of Savoy, had diedsixteen years before him (September 22, 1531); his most able and mostwicked adviser, Chancellor Duprat, twelve years (July 29, 1535). Hissister Marguerite survived him two years (she died December 21, 1549, )"disgusted with everything, " say the historians, and "weary of life, "said she herself:--

 "No father now have I, no mother, Sister or brother. On God alone I now rely, Who ruleth over earth and sky. O world, I say good by to you; To relatives and friendly ties, To honors and to wealth, adieu; I hold them all for enemies. "

And yet Marguerite was loath to leave life. She had always been troubledat the idea of death; when she was spoken to about eternal life, shewould shake her head sometimes, saying, "All that is true; but we remaina mighty long while dead underground before arriving there. " When shewas told that her end was near, she "considered that a very bitter word, "saying that "she was not so old but that she might still live someyears. " She had been the most generous, the most affectionate, and themost lovable person in a family and a court which were both corrupt, andof which she only too often acquiesced in the weaknesses and even vices, though she always fought against their injustice and their cruelty. Shehad the honor of being the grandmother of Henry IV. 

CHAPTER XXXI. ----HENRY II. (1547-1559. )

[Illustration: GALLERY HENRY II----230]

Henry II. Had all the defects, and, with the exception of personalbravery, not one amongst the brilliant and amiable qualities of the kinghis father. Like Francis I. , he was rash and reckless in his resolvesand enterprises, but without having the promptness, the fertility, andthe suppleness of mind which Francis I. Displayed in getting out of theawkward positions in which he had placed himself, and in stalling off ormitigating the consequences of them. Henry was as cold and ungenial asFrancis had been gracious and able to please: and whilst Francis I. , evenif he were a bad master to himself, was at any rate his own master, HenryII. Submitted without resistance, and probably without knowing it, to theinfluence of the favorite who reigned in his house as well as in hiscourt, and of the advisers who were predominant in his government. Twofacts will suffice to set in a clear light, at the commencement of thenew reign, this regrettable analogy in the defects, and this profounddiversity in the mind, character, and conduct of the two kings. 

Towards the close of 1542, a grievous aggravation of the tax upon salt, called Babel, caused a violent insurrection in the town of Rochelle, which was exempted, it was said, by its traditional privileges from thatimpost. Not only was payment refused, but the commissioners weremaltreated and driven away. Francis I. Considered the matter graveenough to require his presence for its repression. He repaired toRochelle with a numerous body of lanzknechts. The terrified populationappeared to have determined upon submission, and, having assembled in amass at the town-hall, there awaited anxiously the king's arrival. Onthe 1st of January, 1543, Francis I. Entered the town in state, surrounded by his escort. The people's advocate fell on his knees, andappealed to the king's clemency in dealing with a revolt of which everyone repented. The king, who was seated on a wooden boarding, rose up. "Speak we no more of revolt, " said he; "I desire neither to destroy yourpersons nor to seize your goods, as was lately done by the EmperorCharles to the Ghentese, whereby his hands are stained with blood; I longmore for the hearts of my subjects than for their lives and their riches. I will never at any time of my life think again of your offence, and Ipardon you without excepting a single thing. I desire that the keys ofyour city and your arms be given back to you, and that you be completelyreinstated in your liberties and your privileges. " The cheers of thepeople responded to these words of the king. "I think I have won yourhearts, " said the king on retiring; "and I assure you, on the honor of agentleman, that you have mine. I desire that you ring your bells, foryou are pardoned. " The Rochellese were let off for a fine of two hundredthousand francs, which the king gave to his keeper of the seals, Francisde Montholon, whom he wished to compensate for his good service. Thekeeper of the seals in his turn made a present of them to the town ofRochelle to found a hospital. But the ordinances as to the salt-tax weremaintained in principle, and their extension led, some years afterwards, to a rising of a more serious character, and very differently repressed. 

In 1548, hardly a year after the accession of Henry II. , and in the midstof the rejoicings he had gone to be present at in the north of Italy, hereceived news at Turin to the effect that in Guienne, Angoumois, andSaintonge a violent and pretty general insurrection had broken outagainst the salt-tax, which Francis I. , shortly before his death, had madeheavier in these provinces. The local authorities in vain attempted torepress the rising; the insurgent peasants scoured the country in strongbodies, giving free rein not only to their desires, but also to theirrevengeful feelings; the most atrocious excesses of which a mob iscapable were committed; the director-general of the gabel was massacredcruelly; and two of his officers, at Angouleme, were strapped down starknaked on a table, beaten to death, and had their bodies cast into theriver with the insulting remark, "Go, wicked gabellers, and salt the fishof the Charente. " The King of Navarre's lieutenant, being appealed tofor aid, summoned, but to no purpose, the Parliament of Bordeaux; he wasforced to take refuge in Chateau-Trompette, and was massacred by thepopulace whilst he was trying to get out; the president of theParliament, a most worthy magistrate, and very much beloved, it is said, by the people, only saved his own life by taking the oath prescribed bythe insurgents. "This news, " says Vieilleville, in his contemporary_Memoires, _ "grievously afflicted the king; and the Constable deMontmorency represented to him that it was not the first time that thesepeople had been capricious, rebellious, and mutinous; for that in thereign of his lord and father, the late king, the Rochellese andsurrounding districts had forgotten themselves in like manner. Theyought to be exterminated, and, in case of need, be replaced by a newcolony, that they might never return. The said sir constable offered totake the matter in hand, and with ten companies of the old hands whom hewould raise in Piedmont, and as many lanzknechts, a thousand men-at-armsall told, he promised to exact a full account, and satisfy his Majesty. "

Montmorency was as good as his word. When he arrived with his troops inGuienne, the people of Bordeaux, in a fit of terror, sent to Langon alarge boat, most magnificently fitted up, in which were chambers andsaloons emblazoned with the arms of the said sir constable, with three orfour deputies to present it to him, and beg him to embark upon it, anddrop down to their city. He repulsed them indignantly. "Away, away, "said he, "with your boat and your keys; I will have nought to do withthem; I have others here with me which will make me other kind of openingthan yours. I will have you all hanged; I will teach you to rebelagainst your king and murder his governor and his lieutenant. " And hedid, in fact, enter Bordeaux on the 9th of October, 1548, by a breachwhich he had opened in the walls, and, after having traversed the citybetween two lines of soldiers and with his guns bearing on the suspectedpoints, he ordered the inhabitants to bring all their arms to thecitadel. Executions followed immediately after this moral as well asmaterial victory. "More than a hundred and forty persons were put todeath by various kinds of punishments, " says Vieilleville; "and, by amost equitable sentence, when the executioner had in his hands the threeinsurgents who had beaten to death and thrown into the river the twocollectors of the Babel at Angouleme, he cast them all three into a firewhich was ready at the spot, and said to them aloud, in conformity withthe judgment against them, 'Go, rabid hounds, and grill the fish of theCharente, which ye salted with the bodies of the officers of your kingand sovereign lord. ' As to civil death (loss of civil rights), " addsVieilleville, "nearly all the inhabitants made honorable amends in openstreet, on their knees, before the said my lords at the window, cryingmercy and asking pardon; and more than a hundred, because of their youth, were simply whipped. Astounding fines and interdictions were laid aswell upon the body composing the court of Parliament as upon thetown-council and on a great number of private individuals. The verybells were not exempt from experiencing the wrath and vengeance of theprince, for not a single one remained throughout the whole city or in theopen country--to say nothing of the clocks, which were not spared either--which was not broken up and confiscated to the king's service for hisguns. "

The insurrection at Bordeaux against the gabel in 1548 was certainly moreserious than that of Rochelle in 1542; but it is also quite certain thatFrancis I. Would not have set about repressing it as Henry II. Did; hewould have appeared there himself and risked his own person instead ofleaving the matter to the harshest of his lieutenants, and he would havemore skilfully intermingled generosity with force, and kind words withacts of severity. And that is one of the secrets of governing. In 1549, scarcely a year after the revolt at Bordeaux, Henry II. , then at Amiens, granted to deputies from Poitou, Rochelle, the district of Aunis, Limousin, Perigord, and Saintonge, almost complete abolition of the Babelin Guienne, which paid the king, by way of compensation, two hundredthousand crowns of gold for the expenses of war or the redemption ofcertain alienated domains. We may admit that on the day after the revoltthe arbitrary and bloody proceedings of the Constable de Montmorency musthave produced upon the insurgents of Bordeaux the effect of a salutaryfright; but we may doubt whether so cruel a repression was absolutelyindispensable in 1548, when in 1549 the concession demanded in the formeryear was to be recognized as necessary. 

According to De Thou and the majority of historians, it was on theoccasion of the insurrection in Guienne against the Babel that Stephende la Boetie, the young and intimate friend of Montaigne, wrote hiscelebrated _Discours de la Servitude voluntaire, ou le Contre-un, _ aneloquent declamation against monarchy. But the testimony of Montaignehimself upsets the theory of this coincidence; written in his own handupon a manuscript, partly autograph, of the treatise by De la Boetie, isa statement that it was the work "of a lad of sixteen. " La Boetie wasborn at Sarlat on the 1st of November, 1530, and was, therefore, sixteenin 1546, two years before the insurrection at Bordeaux. The _Contre-un, _besides, is a work of pure theory and general philosophy, containing noallusion at all to the events of the day, to the sedition in Guienne nomore than to any other. This little work owed to Montaigne'saffectionate regard for its author a great portion of its celebrity. Published for the first time, in 1578, in the _Memoires de l'Etat deFrance, _ after having up to that time run its course without any author'sname, any title, or any date, it was soon afterwards so completelyforgotten that when, in the middle of the seventeenth century, Cardinalde Richelieu for the first time heard it mentioned, and "sent one of hisgentlemen over the whole street of Saint-Jacques to inquire for _laServitude volontaire, _ all the publishers said, 'We don't know what itis. ' The son of one of them recollected something about it, and said tothe cardinal's gentleman, 'Sir, there is a book-fancier who has what youseek, but with no covers to it, and he wants five pistoles for it. ''Very well, ' said the gentleman;" and the Cardinal do Richelieu paidfifty francs for the pleasure of reading the little political pamphlet by"a lad of sixteen, " which probably made very little impression upon him, but which, thanks to the elegance and vivacity of its style, and theaffectionate admiration of the greatest independent thinker of thesixteenth century, has found a place in the history of French literature. [_Memoires de Tallemant des Reaux, _ t. I. P. 395. ]

[Illustration: Anne de Montmorency----235]

History must do justice even to the men whose brutal violence shestigmatizes and reproves. In the case of Anne do Montmorency it oftentook the form of threats intended to save him from the necessity of acts. When he came upon a scene of any great confusion and disorder, "Go hangme such an one, " he would say; "tie yon fellow to that tree; despatchthis fellow with pikes and arquebuses, this very minute, right before myeyes; cut me in pieces all those rascals who chose to hold such aclock-case as this against the king; burn me yonder village; light me upa blaze everywhere, for a quarter of a mile all round. " The same manpaid the greatest attention to the discipline and good condition of histroops, in order to save the populations from their requisitions andexcesses. "On the 20th of November, 1549, he obtained and published atParis, " says De Thou, "a proclamation from the king doubling the pay ofthe men-at-arms, arquebusiers and light-horse, and forbidding them at thesame time, on pain of death, to take anything without paying for it. Abad habit had introduced itself amongst the troops, whether they weregoing on service or returning, whether they were in the field or inwinter quarters, of keeping themselves at the expense of those amongstwhom they lived. Thence proceeded an infinity of irregularities andlosses in the towns and in the country, wherein the people had to sufferat the hands of an insolent soldiery the same vexatious as if it had beenan enemy's country. Not only was a stop put to such excesses, but carewas further taken that the people should not be oppressed under pretextof recruitments which had to be carried out. " [_Histoire de J. A. DeThou, _ t. I. P. 367. ] A nephew of the Constable de Montmorency, a youngman of twenty-three, who at a later period became Admiral de Coligny, wasordered to see to the execution of these protective measures, and he drewup, between 1550 and 1552, at first for his own regiment of foot, andafterwards as colonel-general of this army, rules of military disciplinewhich remained for a long while in force. 

There was war in the atmosphere. The king and his advisers, the courtand the people, had their minds almost equally full of it, some in sheerdread, and others with an eye to preparation. The reign of Francis I. Had ended mournfully; the peace of Crespy had hurt the feelings both ofroyalty and of the nation; Henry, now king, had, as dauphin, felt calledupon to disavow it. It had left England in possession of Calais andBoulogne, and confirmed the dominion or ascendency of Charles V. InGermany, Italy, and Spain, on all the French frontiers. How was thestruggle to be recommenced? What course must be adopted to sustain itsuccessfully? To fall back upon, there were the seven provinciallegions, which had been formed by Francis I. For Normandy, Picardy, Burgundy, Dauphiny, and Provence united, Languedoc, Guienne, andBrittany; but they were not like permanent troops, drilled and alwaysready; they were recruited by voluntary enlistment; they generallyremained at their own homes, receiving compensation at review time andhigh pay in time of war. The Constable de Montmorency had no confidencein these legions; he spoke of them contemptuously, and would much ratherhave increased the number of the foreign corps, regularly paid and keptup, Swiss or lanzknechts. Two systems of policy and warfare, moreover, divided the king's council into two: Montmorency, now old and worn out inbody and mind (he was born in 1492, and so was sixty in 1552), was for apurely defensive attitude, no adventures or battles to be sought, butvictuals and all sorts of supplies to be destroyed in the provinces whichmight be invaded by the enemy, so that instead of winning victories therehe might not even be able to live there. In 1536 this system had beenfound successful by the constable in causing the failure of Charles V. 'sinvasion of Provence; but in 1550 a new generation had come into theworld, the court, and the army; it comprised young men full of ardor andalready distinguished for their capacity and valor; Francis de Lorraine, Duke of Guise (born at the castle of Bar, February 17, 1519), wasthirty-one; his brother, Charles de Guise, Cardinal of Lorraine, was onlysix-and-twenty (he was born at Joinville, February 17, 1524); Francis deScepeaux (born at Durdtal, Anjou, in 1510), who afterwards became Marshalde Vieilleville, was at this time nearly forty; but he had contributed in1541 to the victory of Ceresole, and Francis I. Had made so much of itthat he had said, on presenting him to his son Henry, "He is no olderthan you, and see what he has done already; if the wars do not swallowhim up, you will some day make him constable or marshal of France. "Gaspard de Coligny (born at Chatillon-sur-Loing, February 16, 1517) wasthirty-three; and his brother, Francis d'Andelot (born at Chatillon, in1521), twenty-nine. These men, warriors and politicians at one and thesame time, in a high social position and in the flower of their age, could not reconcile themselves to the Constable de Montmorency's system, defensive solely and prudential to the verge of inertness; they thoughtthat, in order to repair the reverses of France and for the sake of theirown fame, there was something else to be done, and they impatientlyawaited the opportunity. 

[Illustration: Henry II. ----235]

It was not long coming. At the close of 1551, a deputation of theProtestant princes of Germany came to Fontainebleau to ask for the king'ssupport against the aggressive and persecuting despotism of Charles V. The Count of Nassau made a speech "very long, " says Vieilleville in his_Memoires, _ "at the same time that it was in very elegant language, whereby all the presence received very great contentment. " Next day theking put the demand before his council for consideration, and expressedat the very outset his own opinion that "in the present state of affairs, he ought not to take up any enterprise, but leave his subjects of allconditions to rest; for generally, " said he, "all have suffered and dosuffer when armies pass and repass so often through my kingdom, whichcannot be done without pitiable oppression and trampling-down of the poorpeople. " The constable, "without respect of persons, " says Vieilleville, "following his custom of not giving way to anybody, forthwith began tospeak, saying that the king, who asked counsel of them, had very plainlygiven it them himself and made them very clearly to understand his ownidea, which ought to be followed point by point without any gainsaying, he having said nothing but what was most equitable and well known to thecompany. " Nearly all the members of the council gave in their adhesion, without comment, to the opinion of the king and the constable. "But whenit came to the turn of M. De Vieilleville, who had adopted the languageof the Count of Nassau, " he unhesitatingly expressed a contrary opinion, unfolding all the reasons which the king had for being distrustful of theemperor and for not letting this chance of enfeebling him slip by. "Mayit please your Majesty, " said he, "to remember his late passage throughFrance, to obtain which the emperor submitted to carteblanche;nevertheless, when he was well out of the kingdom, he laughed at all hispromises, and, when he found himself inside Cambrai, he said to thePrince of Infantado, 'Let not the King of France, if he be wise, puthimself at my mercy, as I have been at his, for I swear by the living Godthat he shall not be quit for Burgundy and Champagne; but I would alsoinsist upon Picardy and the key of the road to the Bastille of Paris, unless he were minded to lose his life or be confined in perpetualimprisonment until the whole of my wish were accomplished. ' Since thusit is, sir, and the emperor makes war upon you covertly, it must be madeupon him overtly, without concealing one's game or dissimulating at all. No excuses must be allowed on the score of neediness, for France isinexhaustible, if only by voluntary loans raised on the most comfortableclasses of the realm. As for me, I consider myself one of the poorest ofthe company, or at any rate one of the least comfortable; but yet I havesome fifteen thousand francs' worth of plate, dinner and dessert, whiteand red [silver and gold], which I hereby offer to place in the hands ofwhomsoever you shall appoint, in order to contribute to the expenses ofso laudable an enterprise as this. Putting off, moreover, for thepresent the communication to you of a certain secret matter which one ofthe chiefs of this embassy hath told me; and I am certain that when youhave discovered it, you will employ all your might and means to carry outthat which I propose to you. "

The king asked Vieilleville what this secret matter was which he waskeeping back. "If it please your Majesty to withdraw apart, I will tellit you, " said Vieilleville. All the council rose; and Vieilleville, approaching his Majesty, who called the constable only to his side, said, "Sir, you are well aware how the emperor got himself possessed of theimperial cities of Cambrai, Utrecht, and Liege, which he has incorporatedwith his own countship of Flanders, to the great detriment of the wholeof Germany. The electoral princes of the holy empire have discoveredthat he has a project in his mind of doing just the same with theimperial cities of Metz, Strasbourg, Toul, Verdun, and such other townson the Rhine as he shall be able to get hold of. They have secretlyadopted the idea of throwing themselves upon your resources, withoutwhich they cannot stop this detestable design, which would be the totalruin of the empire and a manifest loss to your kingdom. Wherefore, takepossession of the said towns, since opportunity offers, which will beabout forty leagues of country gained without the loss of a single man, and an impregnable rampart for Champagne and Picardy; and, besides, afine and perfectly open road into the heart of the duchy of Luxembourgand the districts below it as far as Brussels. "

However pacific the king's first words had been, and whatever was theinfluence of the constable, the proposal of Vieilleville had a greateffect upon the council. The king showed great readiness to adopt it. "I think, " said he to the constable, "that I was inspired of God when Icreated Vieilleville of my council to-day. " "I only gave the opinion Idid, " replied Montmorency, "in order to support the king's sentiments;let your Majesty give what orders you please. " The king loudlyproclaimed his resolve. "Then let every one, " he said, "be ready at anearly date, with equipment according to his ability and means, to followme; hoping, with God's help, that all will go well for the discomfitureof so pernicious a foe of my kingdom and nation, and one who revels anddelights in tormenting all manner of folks, without regard for any. "There was a general enthusiasm; the place of meeting for the army wasappointed at Chalons-sur-Marne, March 10, 1552; more than a thousandgentlemen flocked thither as volunteers; peasants and mechanics fromChampagne and Picardy joined them; the war was popular. "The majority ofthe soldiers, " says Rabutin, a contemporary chronicler, "were young menwhose brains were on fire. " Francis de Guise and Gaspard de Coligny weretheir chief leaders. The king entered Lorraine from Champagne byJoinville, the ordinary residence of the Dukes of Guise. He carriedPont-a-Mousson; Toul opened its gates to him on the 13th of April; heoccupied Nancy on the 14th, and on the 18th he entered Metz, not withoutsome hesitation amongst a portion of the inhabitants and the necessity ofa certain show of military force on the part of the leaders of the royalarmy. The king would have given the command of this important place toVieilleville, but he refused it, saying, "I humbly thank your Majesty, but I do not think that you should establish in Metz any governor in yourown name, but leave that duty to the mayor and sheriffs of the city, under whose orders the eight captains of the old train-bands who willremain there with their companies will be. " "How say you!" said theking: "can I leave a foreign lieutenant in a foreign country whose oathof fidelity I have only had within the last four-and-twenty hours, andwith all the difficulties and disputes in the world to meet too?" "Sir, "rejoined Vieilleville, "to fear that this master sheriff, whose name isTallanges, might possibly do you a bad turn, is to wrongly estimate hisown competence, who never put his nose anywhere but into a bar-parlor todrink himself drunk; and it is also to show distrust of the excellentmeans you have for preventing all the ruses and artifices that might beinvented to throw your service into confusion. " The king acquiesced, butnot without anxiety, in Vieilleville's refusal, and, leaving at Metz asgovernor a relative of the constable's, whom the latter warmlyrecommended to him, he set out on the 22d of April, 1552, with all hishousehold, to go and attempt in Alsace the same process that he hadalready carried out in Lorraine. "But when we had entered upon theterritory of Germany, " says Vieilleville, "our Frenchmen at once showedtheir insolence in their very first quarters, which so alarmed all therest that we never found from that moment a single man to speak to, and, as long as the expedition lasted, there never appeared a soul with hisprovisions to sell on the road; whereby the army suffered infiniteprivations. This misfortune began with us at the approach to Saverne(Zabern), the episcopal residence of Strasbourg. " When the king arrivedbefore Strasbourg he found the gates closed, and the only offer to openthem was on the condition that he should enter alone with forty personsfor his whole suite. The constable, having taken a rash fit, was ofopinion that he should enter even on this condition. This advice wasconsidered by his Majesty to be very sound, as well as by the princes andlords who were about him, according to the natural tendency of theFrenchman, who is always for seconding and applauding what is said by thegreat. But Vieilleville, on being summoned to the king's quarters, opposed it strongly. "Sir, " said he, "break this purpose, for incarrying it out you are in danger of incurring some very evil and veryshameful fate; and, should that happen, what will become of your armywhich will be left without head, prince, or captain, and in a strangecountry, wherein we are already looked upon with ill will because of ourinsolence and indiscretions? As for me, I am off again to my quarters toquaff and laugh with my two hundred men-at-arms, in readiness to marchwhen your standard is a-field, but not thither. " Nothing has a greatereffect upon weak and undecided minds than the firm language of menresolved to do as they say. The king gave up the idea of enteringStrasbourg, and retired well pleased nevertheless, for he was inpossession of Metz, Toul, Verdun, and Pont-a-Mousson, the keys for Franceinto Germany, and at the head of an army under young commanders who wereenterprising without being blindly rash. 

Charles V. Also had to know what necessity was, and to submit to it, without renouncing the totality of his designs. On the 2d of August, 1552, he signed at Passau, with the Protestant princes, the celebratedtreaty known under the name of "treaty of public peace, " which referredthe great questions of German pacification to a general diet to beassembled in six months, and declared that, pending definitiveconciliation, the two religions should be on an equal footing in theempire, that is, that the princes and free towns should have the supremeregulation of religious matters amongst themselves. Charles V. Thusrecovered full liberty of action in his relations with France, and couldno longer think of anything but how to recover the important towns he hadlost in Lorraine. Henry II. , on the other hand, who was asked by hisProtestant allies on what conditions he would accept the peace of Passau, replied that at no price would he dispossess himself of theThree-Bishoprics of Lorraine, and that he would for his part continue thecontest he had undertaken for the liberation of Germany. The siege ofMetz then became the great question of the day: Charles V. Made all hispreparations to conduct it on an immense scale, and Henry II. Immediately ordered Francis de Guise to go and defend his new conquest atall hazards. 

[Illustration: DIANA DE POITIERS----243]

Ambition which is really great accepts with joy great perils fraught withgreat opportunities. Guise wrote to Henry II. 's favorite, Diana dePoitiers, Duchess of Valentinois, to thank her for having helped toobtain for him this favor, which was about to bring him "to the emperor'svery beard. " He set out at once, first of all to Toul, where the plagueprevailed, and where he wished to hurry on the repair of the ramparts. Money was wanting to pay the working-corps; and he himself advanced thenecessary sum. On arriving at Metz on the 17th of August, 1552, he foundthere only twelve companies of infantry, new levies; and every evening hedrilled them himself in front of his quarters. A host of volunteers, great lords, simple gentlemen, and rich and brave burgesses, soon came tohim, "eager to aid him in repelling the greatest and most powerful effortever made by the emperor against their country and their king. " Thisconcourse of warriors, the majority of them well known and several ofthem distinguished, redoubled the confidence and ardor of the rank andfile in the army. We find under the title of _Chanson faite en 1552 parun souldar etant en Metz en garnison_ this couplet:--

 "My Lord of Guise is here at home, With many a noble at his side, With the two children of Vendome, With bold Nemours, in all his pride, And Strozzi too, a warrior tried, Who ceases not, by night or day, Around the city-walls to stride, And strengthen Metz in every way. "

 [Peter Strozzi, "the man in all the world, " says Brantome, "who could best arrange and order battles and battalions, and could best post them to his advantage. "]

To put into condition the tottering fortifications of Metz, and to havethe place well supplied, was the first task undertaken by itsindefatigable governor; he never ceased to meet the calls upon him eitherin person or in purse; he was seen directing the workmen, taking hismeals with them, and setting them a good example by carrying the hod forseveral hours. He frequently went out on horseback to reconnoitre thecountry, visit the points of approach and lodgment that the enemy mightmake use of around the town, and take measures of precaution at theplaces whereby they might do harm as well as at those where it would benot only advantageous for the French to make sallies or to setambuscades, but also to secure a retreat. Charles V. , naturally slow ashe was in his operations no less than in his resolves, gave the activityof Guise time to bear fruit. "I mean to batter the town of Metz in suchstyle as to knock it about the ears of M. De Guise, " said he at the endof August, 1552, "and I make small account of the other places that theking may have beyond that. "

[Illustration: Guise at Metz----244]

On the 15th of September following, Charles was still fifteen leaguesfrom Metz, on the territory of Deux-Ponts, and it was only on the 19thof October that the Duke of Alba, his captain-general, arrived withtwenty-four thousand men, the advance-guard, within a league of theplace which, it it is said, was to be ultimately besieged by one hundredthousand foot, twenty-three thousand horse, one hundred and twentypieces of artillery, and seven thousand pioneers. "After one and thefirst encounter, " says a journal of the siege, "the enemy held oursoldiers in good repute, not having seen them, for any sort of danger, advance or retreat, save as men of war and of assured courage; which wasan advantage, for M. De Guise knew well that at the commencement of awar it was requisite that a leader should try, as much as ever he could, to win. " It was only on the 20th of November that Charles V. , ill ofgout at Thionville, and unable to stand on his legs, perceived thenecessity of being present in person at the siege, and appeared beforeMetz on an Arab horse, with his face pale and worn, his eyes sunk in hishead, and his beard white. At sight of him there was a most tremendoussalute of arquebuses and artillery, the noise of which brought the wholetown to arms. The emperor, whilst waiting to establish himself at thecastle of La Horgne, took up his quarters near the Duke of Alba, in alittle wooden house built out of the ruins of the Abbey ofSaint-Clement: "a beautiful palace, " said he, "when the keys of Metz arebrought to me there. " From the 20th to the 26th the attack wascontinued with redoubled vigor; fourteen thousand cannon-shots werefired, it is said, in a single day Guise had remarked that the enemyseemed preparing to direct the principal assault against a point sostrong that nobody had thought of pulling down the houses in itsvicinity. This oversight was immediately repaired, and a stout wall, the height of a man, made out of the ruins. "If they send us peas, " saidGuise, "we will give them back beans" ("we will give them at least asgood as they bring "). On the 26th of November the old wall wasbattered by a formidable artillery; and, breached in three places, itcrumbled down on the 28th into the ditch, "at the same time making itdifficult to climb for to come to the assault. " The assailants utteredshouts of joy; but, when the cloud of dust had cleared off, they saw afresh rampart eight feet in height above the breach, "and theyexperienced as much and even more disgust than they had felt pleasure atseeing the wall tumble. " The besieged heaped mockery and insult uponthem; but Guise "imperatively put a stop to the disturbance, fearing, itis said, lest some traitor should take advantage of it to give theassailants some advice, and the soldiers then conceived the idea ofsticking upon the points of their pikes live cats, the cries of whichseemed to show derision of the enemy. "

The siege went on for a month longer without making any more impression;and the imperial troops kicked against any fresh assaults. "I was wontonce upon a time to be followed to battle, " Charles V. Would say, "but Isee that I have no longer men about me; I must bid farewell to theempire, and go and shut myself up in some monastery; before three yearsare over I shall turn Cordelier. " Whilst Metz was still holding out, thefortress of Toul was summoned by the Imperialists to open its gates; butthe commandant replied, "When the town of Metz has been taken, when Ihave had the honor of being besieged in due form by the emperor, and whenI have made as long a defence as the Duke of Guise has, such a summonsmay be addressed to me, and I will consider what I am to do. " On the26th of December, 1552, the sixty-fifth day since the arrival of theimperial army and the forty-fifth since the batteries had opened fire, Charles V. Resolved to raise the siege. "I see very well, " said he, "that fortune resembles women; she prefers a young king to an oldemperor. " His army filed off by night, in silence, leaving behind itsmunitions and its tents just as they stood, "driven away, almost, by thechastisement of Heaven, " says the contemporary chronicler Rabutin, "withbut two shots by way of signal. " The ditty of the soldier just quotedends thus:--

"At last, so stout was her defence, From Metz they moved their guns away;And, with the laugh at their expense, A-tramping went their whole array. And at their tail the noble LordOf Guise sent forth a goodly throngOf cavalry, with lance and sword, To teach them how to tramp along. "

Guise was far from expecting so sudden and decisive a result. "Sing meno more flattering strains in your letters about the emperor'sdislodgment hence, " he wrote on the 24th of December to his brother theCardinal of Lorraine; "take it for certain that unless we be very muchmistaken in him, he will not, as long as he has life, brook the shame ofdeparting hence until he has seen it all out. "

Irritated, and, perhaps, still more shocked, at so heavy a blow to hispower and his renown, Charles V. Looked everywhere for a chance of takinghis revenge. He flattered himself that he had found it in Therouanne, a fortress of importance at that time between Flanders and Artois, whichhad always been a dependency of the kingdom of France, and served as arampart against the repeated incursions of the English, the masters ofCalais. Charles knew that it was ill supplied with troops and munitionsof war; and the court of Henry II. , intoxicated with the deliverance ofMetz, spoke disdainfully of the emperor, and paid no heed to anything butballs, festivities, and tournaments in honor of the marriage betweenDiana d'Angouleme, the king's natural daughter, and Horatio Farnese, Dukeof Castro. All on a sudden it was announced that the troops of CharlesV. Were besieging Therouanne. The news was at first treated lightly; itwas thought sufficient to send to Therouanne some re-enforcements underthe orders of Francis de Montmorency, nephew of the constable; but theattack was repulsed with spirit by the besiegers, and brave as was theresistance offered by the besieged, who sustained for ten hours asanguinary assault, on the 20th of June, 1553, Francis de Montmorency sawthe impossibility of holding out longer, and, on the advice of all hisofficers, offered to surrender the place; but he forgot to stipulate inthe first place for a truce; the Germans entered the town, thrown openwithout terms of capitulation; it was given up as prey to an army itselfa prey to all the passions of soldiers as well as to their master'svengeful feelings, and Therouanne, handed over for devastation, was for awhole month diligently demolished and razed to the ground. When CharlesV. , at Brussels, received news of the capture, "bonfires were lightedthroughout Flanders; bells were rung, cannon were fired. " It was but apoor revenge for so great a sovereign after the reverse he had just metwith at Metz; but the fall of Therouanne was a grievous incident forFrance. Francis I. Was in the habit of saying that Therouanne inFlanders and Acqs (now Dax) on the frontier of Guienne were, to him, liketwo pillows on which he could rest tranquilly. [_Histoire universelle, _t. Ii. P. 352. ]

Whilst these events were passing in Lorraine and Flanders, Henry II. Andhis advisers were obstinately persisting in the bad policy which had beenclung to by Charles VIII. , Louis XII. , and Francis I. , that, in fact, ofmaking conquests and holding possessions in Italy. War continued, fromTurin to Naples, between France, the emperor, the pope, and the localprinces, with all sorts of alliances and alternations, but with notangible result. Blaise de Montluc defended the fortress of Sienna fornine months against the Imperialists with an intelligence and a braverywhich earned for him twenty years later the title of Marshal of France. Charles de Brissac was carrying on the war in Piedmont with such acombination of valor and generosity that the king sent him as a presenthis own sword, writing to him at the same time, "The opinion I have ofyour merit has become rooted even amongst foreigners. The emperor saysthat he would make himself monarch of the whole world if he had a Brissacto second his plans. " His men, irritated at getting no pay, one daysurrounded Brissac, complaining vehemently. "You will always get breadby coming to me, " said he; and he paid the debt of France by sacrificinghis daughter's dowry and borrowing a heavy sum from the Swiss on thesecurity of his private fortune. It was by such devotion and suchsacrifices that the French nobility paid for and justified theirpreponderance in the state; but they did not manage to succeed in theconduct of public affairs, and to satisfy the interests of a nationprogressing in activity, riches, independence, and influence. Disquietedat the smallness of his success in Italy, Henry II. Flattered himselfthat he would regain his ascendency there by sending thither the Duke ofGuise, the hero of Metz, with an army of about twenty thousand men, French or Swiss, and a staff of experienced officers; but Guise was notmore successful than his predecessors had been. After several attemptsby arms and negotiation amongst the local sovereigns, he met with adistinct failure in the kingdom of Naples before the fortress ofCivitella, the siege of which he was forced to raise on the 15th of May, 1557. Wearied out by want of success, sick in the midst of an army ofsick, regretting over "the pleasure of his field-sports at Joinville, andbegging his mother to have just a word or two written to him to consolehim, " all he sighed for was to get back to France. And it was not longbefore the state of affairs recalled him thither. It was now nearly twoyears ago that, on the 25th of October, 1555, and the 1st of January, 1556, Charles V. Had solemnly abdicated all his dominions, giving overto his son Philip the kingdom of Spain, with the sovereignty of Burgundyand the Low Countries, and to his younger brother, Ferdinand, the empiretogether with the original heritage of the House of Austria, and retiringpersonally to the monastery of Yuste, in Estramadura, there to pass thelast years of his life, distracted with gout, at one time resting fromthe world and its turmoil, at another vexing himself about what was doingthere now that he was no longer in it. Before abandoning it for good, hedesired to do his son Philip the service of leaving him, if not in astate of definite peace, at any rate in a condition of truce with France. Henry II. Also desired rest; and the Constable de Montmorency wishedabove everything for the release of his son Francis, who had been aprisoner since the fall of Thorouanne. A truce for five years was signedat Vaucelles on the 5th of February, 1556; and Coligny, quite youngstill, but already admiral and in high esteem, had the conduct of thenegotiation. He found Charles V. Dressed in mourning, seated beside alittle table, in a modest apartment hung with black. When the admiralhanded to the emperor the king's letter, Charles could not himself breakthe seal, and the Bishop of Arras drew near to render him that service. "Gently, my Lord of Arras, " said the emperor; "would you rob me of theduty I am bound to discharge towards the king my brother-in-law? PleaseGod, none but I shall do it;" and then turning to Coligny, he said, "Whatwill you say of me, admiral? Am I not a pretty knight to run a courseand break a lance, I who can only with great difficulty open a letter?"He inquired with an air of interest after Henry II. 's health, and boastedof belonging himself, also, to the house of France through hisgrandmother Mary of Burgundy. "I hold it to be an honor, " said he, "tohave issued, on the mother's side, from the stock which wears and upholdsthe most famous crown in the world. " His son Philip, who was but anovice in kingly greatness, showed less courtesy and less good taste thanhis father; he received the French ambassadors in a room hung withpictures representing the battle of Pavia. There were some who concludedfrom that that the truce would not be of long duration. [_Histoired'Espagne, _ by M. Rosseeuw Saint-Hilaire, t. Viii. P. 64. ]

And it was not long before their prognostication was verified. Thesending of the Duke of Guise into Italy, and the assistance he brought toPope Paul IV. , then at war with the new King of Spain, Philip II. , wereconsidered as a violation of the truce of Vaucelles. Henry II. Hadexpected as much, and had ordered Coligny, who was commanding in Picardyand Flanders, to hold himself in readiness to take the field as soon ashe should be, if not forced, at any rate naturally called upon, by anyunforeseen event. It cost Coligny, who was a man of scrupulous honor, agreat struggle to lightly break a truce he had just signed; nevertheless, in January, 1557, when he heard that the French were engaged in Italy inthe war between the pope and the Spaniards, he did not consider that hecould possibly remain inactive in Flanders. He took by surprise the townof Lens, between Lille and Arras. Philip II. , on his side, had takenmeasures for promptly entering upon the campaign. By his marriage withMary Tudor, Queen of England, he had secured for himself a powerful allyin the north; the English Parliament were but little disposed tocompromise themselves in a war with France; but in March, 1557, Philipwent to London; the queen's influence and the distrust excited in Englandby Henry II. Prevailed over the pacific desires of the nation; and Marysent a simple herald to carry to the King of France at Rheims herdeclaration of war. Henry accepted it politely, but resolutely. "I speak to you in this way, " said he to the herald, "because it is aqueen who sends you; had it been a king, I would speak to you in a verydifferent tone;" and he ordered him to be gone forthwith from thekingdom. A negotiation was commenced for accomplishing the marriage, long since agreed upon, between the young Queen of Scotland, Mary Stuart, and Henry II. 's son, Francis, dauphin of France. Mary, who was born onthe 8th of December, 1542, at Falkland Castle in Scotland, had, since1548, lived and received her education at the court of France, whitherher mother, Mary of Lorraine, eldest sister of Francis of Guise andqueen-dowager of Scotland, had lost no time in sending her as soon as thefuture union between the two children had been agreed upon between thetwo courts. The dauphin of France was a year younger than the Scottishprincess; but "from his childhood, " says the Venetian Capello, "he hasbeen very much in love with her Most Serene little Highness the Queen ofScotland, who is destined for his wife. It sometimes happens that, whenthey are exchanging endearments, they like to retire quite apart into acorner of the rooms, that their little secrets may not be overheard. " Onthe 19th of April, 1558, the espousals took place in the great hall ofthe Louvre, and the marriage was celebrated in the church of Notre-Dame. 

[Illustration: Francis II. And Mary Stuart love making----251]

From that time Mary Stuart was styled in France queen-dauphiness, and herhusband, with the authorization of the Scottish commissioners, took thetitle of king-dauphin. "Etiquette required at that time that the heir tothe throne should hold his court separately, and not appear at the king'scourt save on grand occasions. The young couple resigned themselveswithout any difficulty to this exile, and retired to Villers-Cotterets. "[_Histoire de Marie Stuart, _ by Jules Gauthier, t. I. P. 36. ]

Whilst preparations were being made at Paris for the rejoicings in honorof the union of the two royal children, war broke out in Picardy andFlanders. Philip II. Had landed there with an army of forty-seventhousand men, of whom seven thousand were English. Never did any greatsovereign and great politician provoke and maintain for long suchimportant wars without conducting them in some other fashion than fromthe recesses of his cabinet, and without ever having exposed his own lifeon the field of battle. The Spanish army was under the orders ofEmmanuel-Philibert, Duke of Savoy, a young warrior of thirty, who had wonthe confidence of Charles V. He led it to the siege of Saint-Quentin, a place considered as one of the bulwarks of the kingdom. Philip II. Remained at some leagues' distance in the environs. Henry II. Was illprepared for so serious an attack; his army, which was scarcely twentythousand strong, mustered near Laon under the orders of the Duke ofNevers, governor of Champagne; at the end of July, 1557, it hurried intoPicardy, under the command of the Constable de Montmorency, who wassupported by Admiral de Coligny, his nephew, by the Duke of Enghien, bythe Prince of Condo, and by the Duke of Montpensier, by nearly all thegreat lords and valiant warriors of France; they soon saw that Saint-Quentin was in a deplorable state of defence; the fortifications were oldand badly kept up; soldiers, munitions of war, and victuals were allequally deficient. Coligny did not hesitate, however he threw himselfinto the place on the 2d of August, during the night, with a small corpsof seven hundred men and Saint-Remy, a skilful engineer, who had alreadydistinguished himself in the defence of Metz; the admiral packed off theuseless mouths, repaired the walls at the points principally threatened, and reanimated the failing courage of the inhabitants. The constable andhis army came within hail of the place; and D'Andelot, Coligny's brother, managed with great difficulty to get four hundred and fifty men into it. On the 10th of August the battle was begun between the two armies. Theconstable affected to despise the Duke of Savoy's youth. "I will soonshow him, " said he, "a move of an old soldier. " The French army, veryinferior in numbers, was for a moment on the point of being surrounded. The Prince of Conde sent the constable warning. "I was serving in thefield, " answered Montmorency, "before the Prince of Conde came into theworld; I have good hopes of still giving him lessons in the art of warfor some years to come. " The valor of the constable and his comrades inarms could not save them from the consequences of their stubbornrecklessness and their numerical inferiority; the battalions of Gasconinfantry closed their ranks, with pikes to the front, and made an heroicresistance, but all in vain, against repeated charges of the Spanishcavalry: and the defeat was total. More than three thousand men werekilled; the number of prisoners amounted to double; and the constable, left upon the field with his thigh shattered by a cannon-ball, fell intothe hands of the Spaniards, as was also the case with the Dukes ofLongueville and Montpensier, La Rochefoucauld, D'Aubigne, &c. . . . The Duke of Enghien, Viscount de Turenne, and a multitude of others, manygreat names amidst a host of obscure, fell in the fight. The Duke ofNevers and the Prince of Conde, sword in hand, reached La Fere with theremnants of their army. Coligny remained alone in Saint-Quentin withthose who survived of his little garrison, and a hundred and twentyarquebusiers whom the Duke of Nevers threw into the place at a loss ofthree times as many. Coligny held out for a fortnight longer, behindwalls that were in ruins and were assailed by a victorious army. Atlength, on the 27th of August, the enemy entered Saint-Quentin by shoals. "The admiral, who was still going about the streets with a few men tomake head against them, found himself hemmed in on all sides, and did allhe could to fall into the hands of a Spaniard, preferring rather to awaiton the spot the common fate than to incur by flight any shame andreproach. He who took him prisoner, after having set him to rest a whileat the foot of the ramparts, took him away to their camp, where, as heentered, he met Captain Alonzo de Cazieres, commandant of the old bandsof Spanish infantry, when up came the Duke of Savoy, who ordered the saidCazieres to take the admiral to his tent. " [_Commentaire de Francois deRabutin sur les Guerres entre Henri II. , roi de France, et Charles Quint, empereur, _ t. Ii. P. 95, in the _Petitot collection_. ] D'Andelot, theadmiral's brother, succeeded in escaping across the marshes. Being thusmaster of Saint-Quentin, Philip II. , after having attempted to put a stopto carnage and plunder, expelled from the town, which was half in ashes, the inhabitants who had survived; and the small adjacent fortresses, Hamand Catelet, were not long before they surrendered. 

Philip, with anxious modesty, sent information of his victory to hisfather, Charles, who had been in retirement since February 21, 1556, atthe monastery of Yuste. "As I did not happen to be there myself, " hesaid at the end of his letter, "about which I am heavy at heart as towhat your Majesty will possibly think, I can only tell you from hearsaywhat took place. " We have not the reply of Charles V. To his son; buthis close confidant, Quejada, wrote, "The emperor felt at this news oneof the greatest thrills of satisfaction he has ever had; but, to tell youthe truth, I perceive by his manner that he cannot reconcile himself tothe thought that his son was not there; and with good reason. " Afterthat Saint-Quentin had surrendered, the Duke of Savoy wanted to marchforward and strike affrighted France to the very heart; and the agedemperor was of his mind. "Is the king my son at Paris?" he said, when heheard of his victory. Philip had thought differently about it instead ofhurling his army on Paris, he had moved it back to Saint-Quentin, andkept it for the reduction of places in the neighborhood. "TheSpaniards, " says Rabutin, "might have accomplished our totalextermination, and taken from us all hope of setting ourselves up again. . . . But the Supreme Ruler, the God of victories, pulled them upquite short. " An unlooked-for personage, Queen Catherine de' Medici, then for the first time entered actively upon the scene. We borrow thevery words of the Venetian ambassadors who lived within her sphere. Thefirst, Lorenzo Contarini, wrote in 1552, "The queen is younger than theking, but only thirteen days; she is not pretty, but she is possessed ofextraordinary wisdom and prudence; no doubt of her being fit to govern;nevertheless she is not consulted or considered so much as she well mightbe. " Five years later, in 1557, after the battle and capture ofSaint-Quentin, France was in a fit of stupor; Paris believed the enemyto be already beneath her walls; many of the burgesses were packing upand flying, some to Orleans, some to Bourges, some still farther. Theking had gone to Compiegne "to get together, " says Brantome, "a fresharmy. "

[Illustration: Catherine de' Medici (in her young days)----255]

Queen Catherine was alone at Paris. Of her own motion "she went to theParliament (according to the _Memoires de la Chatre_ it was to the Hotelde Ville that she went and made her address) in full state, accompaniedby the cardinals, princes, and princesses; and there, in the mostimpressive language, she set forth the urgent state of affairs at themoment. She pointed out that, in spite of the enormous expenses intowhich the Most Christian king had found himself drawn in his late wars, he had shown the greatest care not to burden the towns. In thecontinuous and extreme pressure of requirements her Majesty did not thinkthat any further charge could be made on the people of the countryplaces, who in ordinary times always bear the greatest burden. With somuch sentiment and eloquence that she touched the heart of everybody, thequeen then explained to the Parliament that the king had need of threehundred thousand livres, twenty-five thousand to be paid every twomonths; and she added that she would retire from the place of session, soas not to interfere with liberty of discussion; and she, accordingly, retired to an adjoining room. A resolution to comply with the wishes ofher Majesty was voted, and the queen, having resumed her place, receiveda promise to that effect. A hundred notables of the city offered to giveat once three thousand francs apiece. The queen thanked them in thesweetest form of words; and thus terminated this session of Parliamentwith so much applause for her Majesty and such lively marks ofsatisfaction at her behavior that no idea can be given of them. Throughout the whole city nothing was spoken of but the queen's prudenceand the happy manner in which she proceeded in this enterprise. "

Such is the account, not of a French courtier, but of the Venetianambassador, Giacomo Lorenzo, writing confidentially to his government. From that day the position of Catherine de' Medici was changed in France, amongst the people as well as at court. "The king went more often to seeher; he added to his habits that of holding court at her apartments forabout an hour every day after supper in the midst of the lords andladies. " It is not to be discovered anywhere in the contemporaryMemoires, whether Catherine had anything to do with the resolution takenby Henry II. On returning from Compiegne; but she thenceforward assumedher place, and gave a foretaste of the part she was to play in thegovernment of France. Unhappily for the honor of Catherine and for thewelfare of France, that part soon ceased to be judicious, dignified, andsalutary, as it had been on that day of its first exhibition. 

On entering Paris again the king at once sent orders to the Duke of Guiseto return in haste from Italy with all the troops he could bring. Everyeye and every hope were fixed upon the able and heroic defender of Metz, who had forced Charles V. To retreat before him. A general appeal was atthe same time addressed to "all soldiers, gentlemen and others, who hadborne or were capable of bearing arms, to muster at Laon under the Dukeof Nevers, in order to be employed for the service of the king and forthe tuition [protection] of their country, their families, and theirproperty. " Guise arrived on the 20th of October, 1557, atSaint-Germain-en-Laye, where the court happened to be just then: everymark of favor was lavished upon him; all the resources of the state wereput at his disposal; there was even some talk of appointing him viceroy;but Henry II. Confined himself to proclaiming him, on the very day ofhis arrival, lieutenant-general of the armies throughout the wholeextent of the monarchy, both within and without the realm. His brother, the Cardinal of Lorraine, who was as ambitious and almost as able as he, had the chief direction in civil, financial, and diplomatic affairs;never, since the great mayors-of-the-palace under the Merovingian kings, had similar power been in the hands of a subject. Like a man born tocommand, Guise saw that, in so complicated a situation, a brilliantstroke must be accomplished and a great peril be met by a great success. "He racked his brains for all sorts of devices for enabling him to dosome remarkable deed which might humble the pride of that haughtySpanish nation and revive the courage of his own men; and he took itthat those things which the enemy considered as the most secure would bethe least carefully guarded. Some years previously it had beensuggested to the constable that an attempt might be made upon Calais, negligently guarded as it was, and the place itself not being in goodorder. The Duke of Guise put the idea of this enterprise forward oncemore, and begged the king's permission to attempt it, without saying aword about it to anybody else, which the king considered to be a verygood notion. " Guise took the command of the army, and made a feint ofdirecting its movements towards an expedition in the east of thekingdom; but, suddenly turning westwards, he found himself on the nightof January 1, 1558, beneath the walls of Calais, "whither, with rightgood will, all the princes, lords, and soldiers had marched. " On the 3dof January he took the two forts of Nieullay and Risbank, which coveredthe approaches to the place. On the 4th he prepared for, and on the 6thhe delivered, the assault upon the citadel itself, which was carried; heleft there his brother, the Duke of Aumale, with a sufficient force fordefence; the portion of the English garrison which had escaped at theassault fell back within the town; the governor, Lord Wentworth, "like aman in desperation, who saw he was all but lost, " made vain attempts torecover this important post under cover of night and of the high sea, which rendered impossible the prompt arrival of any aid for the French;but "they held their own inside the castle. " The English requested theDuke of Aumale "to parley so as to come to some honorable and reasonableterms;" and Guise assented. On the 8th of January, whilst he wasconferring in his tent with the representatives of the governor, Coligny's brother, D'Andelot, entered the town at the solicitation ofthe English themselves, who were afraid of being all put to the sword. The capitulation was signed. The inhabitants, with their wives andchildren, had their lives spared, and received permission to leaveCalais freely and without any insult, and withdraw to England orFlanders. Lord Wentworth and fifty other persons, to be chosen by theDuke of Guise, remained prisoners of war; with this exception, all thesoldiers were to return to England, but with empty hands. The place wasleft with all the cannons, arms, munitions, utensils, engines of war, flags and standards which happened to be in it. The furniture, the goldand silver, coined or other, the merchandise, and the horses passed overto the disposal of the Duke of Guise. Lastly the vanquished, when theyquitted the town, were to leave it intact, having no power to pull downhouses, unpave streets, throw up earth, displace a single stone, pullout a single nail. The conqueror's precautions were as deliberate ashis audacity had been sudden. On the 9th of January, 1558, after aweek's siege, Calais, which had been in the hands of the English for twohundred and ten years, once more became a French town, in spite of theinscription which was engraved on one of its gates, and which may beturned into the following distich:--

 "A siege of Calais may seem good When lead and iron swim like wood. "

The joy was so much the greater in that it was accompanied by greatsurprise: save a few members of the king's council, nobody expected thisconquest. "I certainly thought that you must be occupied in preparingfor some great exploit, and that you wished to wait until you couldapprise me of the execution rather than the design, " wrote Marshal deBrissac to the Duke of Guise, on the 22d of January, from Italy. Foreigners were not less surprised than the French themselves; they hadsupposed that France would remain for a long while under the effects ofthe reverse experienced at Saint-Quentin. "The loss of Calais, " saidPope Paul IV. , "will be the only dowry that the Queen of England willobtain from her marriage with Philip. For France such a conquest ispreferable to that of half the kingdom of England. " When Mary Tudor, already seriously ill, heard the news, she exclaimed from her deathbed, on the 20th of January, "If my heart is opened, there will be foundgraven upon it the word Calais. " And when the Grand Prior of France, onrepairing to the court of his sister, Mary of Lorraine, in Scotland, wentto visit Queen Elizabeth, who had succeeded Mary Tudor, she, after shehad made him dance several times with her, said to him, "My dear prior, Ilike you very much, but not your brother, who robbed me of my town ofCalais. "

Guise was one of those who knew that it is as necessary to follow up asuccess accomplished as to proceed noiselessly in the execution of asudden success. When he was master of Calais he moved rapidly upon theneighboring fortresses of Guines and Ham; and he had them in his powerwithin a few days, notwithstanding a resistance more stout than he hadencountered at Calais. During the same time the Duke of Nevers, encouraged by such examples, also took the field again, and gainedpossession, in Champagne and the neighborhood, of the strong castles ofHerbemont, Jamoigne, Chigny, Rossignol, and Villemont. Guise had no ideaof contenting himself with his successes in the west of France; hisambition carried him into the east also, to the environs of Metz, thescene of his earliest glory. He heard that Vieilleville, who had becomegovernor of Metz, was setting about the reduction of Thionville, "thebest picture of a fortress I ever saw, " says Montluc. "I have heard, "wrote Guise to Vieilleville, "that you have a fine enterprise on hand; Ipray you do not commence the execution of it, in any fashion whatever, until I be with you: having given a good account of Calais and Guines, aslieutenant-general of his Majesty in this realm, I should be very vexedif there should be done therein anything of honor and importance withoutmy presence. " He arrived before Thionville on the 4th of June, 1558. Vieilleville and his officers were much put out at his interference. "The duke might surely have dispensed with coming, " said D'Estrees, chiefofficer of artillery; "it will be easy for him to swallow what is allchewed ready for him. " But the bulk of the army did not share thisfeeling of jealousy. When the pioneers, drawn up, caught sight of Guise, "Come on, sir, " they cried, "come and let us die before Thionville; wehave been expecting you this long while. " The siege lasted three weekslonger. Guise had with him two comrades of distinction, the ItalianPeter Strozzi, and the Gascon Blaise do Montluc. On the 20th of JuneStrozzi was mortally wounded by an arquebuse-shot, at the very side ofGuise, who was talking to him with a hand upon his shoulder. "Ah! byGod's head, sir, " cried Strozzi, in Italian, "the king to-day loses agood servant, and so does your excellency. " Guise, greatly moved, attempted to comfort him, and spoke to him the name of Jesus Christ; butStrozzi was one of those infidels so common at that time in Italy. "'Sdeath, " said he, "what Jesus are you come hither to remind me of?I believe in no God; my game is played. " "You will appear to-day beforeHis face, " persisted Guise, in the earnestness of his faith. "'Sdeath, "replied Strozzi, "I shall be where all the others are who have died inthe last six thousand years. " The eyes of Guise remained fixed a whileupon his comrade dying in such a frame of mind; but he soon turned allhis thoughts once more to the siege of Thionville. Montluc supported himvaliantly. A strong tower still held out, and Montluc carried it at thehead of his men. Guise rushed up and threw his arm round the warrior'sneck, saying, "Monseigneur, I now see clearly that the old proverb isquite infallible: 'A good horse will go to the last. ' I am off at once tomy quarters to report the capture to the king. Be assured that I shallnot conceal from him the service you have done. " The reduction ofThionville was accomplished on that very day, June 22, 1558. That ofArlon, a rich town in the neighborhood, followed very closely. Guise, thoroughly worn out, had ordered the approaches to be made next morningat daybreak, requesting that he might be left to sleep until he awoke ofhimself; when he did awake, he inquired whether the artillery had yetopened fire; he was told that Montluc had surprised the place during thenight. "That is making the pace very fast, " said he, as he made the signof the cross; but he did not care to complain about it. Under theimpulse communicated by him the fortunes of France were revivingeverywhere. A check received before Gravelines, on the 13th of July, 1558, by a division commanded by De Termes, governor of Calais, did notsubdue the national elation and its effect upon the enemy themselves. "It is an utter impossibility for me to keep up the war, " wrote PhilipII. , on the 15th of February, 1559, to Granvelle. On both sides therewas a desire for peace; and conferences were opened at Cateau-Cambresis. On the 6th of February, 1559, a convention was agreed upon for a trucewhich was to last during the whole course of the negotiation, and for sixdays after the separation of the plenipotentiaries, in case no peace tookplace. 

It was concluded on the 2d of April, 1559, between Henry II. AndElizabeth, who had become Queen of England at the death of her sisterMary (November 17, 1558); and next day, April 3, between Henry II. , Philip II. , and the allied princes of Spain, amongst others the Prince ofOrange, William the Silent, who, whilst serving in the Spanish army, wasfitting himself to become the leader of the Reformers, and the liberatorof the Low Countries. By the treaty with England, France was to keepCalais for eight years in the first instance, and on a promise to payfive hundred thousand gold crowns to Queen Elizabeth or her successors. The money was never paid, and Calais was never restored, and this withoutthe English government's having considered that it could make the mattera motive for renewing the war. By the treaty with Spain, France was tokeep Metz, Toul, and Verdun, and have back Saint-Quentin, Le Catelet, andHam; but she was to restore to Spain or her allies a hundred andeighty-nine places in Flanders, Piedmont, Tuscany, and Corsica. Themalcontents--for the absence of political liberty does not suppressthem entirely--raised their voices energetically against this lasttreaty signed by the king, with the sole desire, it was supposed, ofobtaining the liberation of his two favorites, the Constable deMontmorency and Marshal de Saint-Andre, who had been prisoners in Spainsince the defeat at Saint-Quentin. "Their ransom, " it was said, "hascost the kingdom more than that of Francis I. " Guise himself said tothe king, "A stroke of your Majesty's pen costs more to France thanthirty years of war cost. " Ever since that time the majority ofhistorians, even the most enlightened, have joined in the censure thatwas general in the sixteenth century; but their opinion will not beindorsed here; the places which France had won during the war, and whichshe retained by the peace, --Metz, Toul, and Verdun on her frontier inthe north-east, facing the imperial or Spanish possessions, and Boulogneand Calais on her coasts in the north-west, facing England, --were, asregarded the integrity of the state and the security of the inhabitants, of infinitely more importance than those which she gave up in Flandersand Italy. The treaty of Cateau-Cambresis, too, marked the terminationof those wars of ambition and conquest which the Kings of France hadwaged beyond the Alps an injudicious policy, which, for four reigns, hadcrippled and wasted the resources of France in adventurous expeditions, beyond the limits of her geographical position and her natural andpermanent interests. 

More or less happily, the treaty of Cateau-Cambreis had regulated allthose questions of external policy which were burdensome to France; shewas once more at peace with her neighbors, and seemed to have nothingmore to do than to gather in the fruits thereof. But she had in her ownmidst questions far more difficult of solution than those of her externalpolicy, and these perils from within were threatening her more seriouslythan any from without. Since the death of Francis I. , the religiousferment had pursued its course, becoming more general and more fierce;the creed of the Reformers had spread very much; their number had verymuch increased; permanent churches, professing and submitting to a fixedfaith and discipline, had been founded; that of Paris was the first, in1555; and the example had been followed at Orleans, at Chartres, atLyons, at Toulouse, at Rochelle, in Normandy, in Touraine, in Guienne, inPoitou, in Dauphiny, in Provence, and in all the provinces, more or less. In 1561, it was calculated that there were twenty-one hundred and fiftyreformed, or, as the expression then was, rectified (dressees), churches. "And this is no fanciful figure; it is the result of a census taken atthe instigation of the deputies who represented the reformed churches atthe conference of Poissy on the demand of Catherine de' Medici, and inconformity with the advice of Admiral de Coligny. " [_La Reformation enFrance pendant sa premiere periode, _ by Henri Luttheroth, pp. 127-132. ]It is clear that the movement of the Reformation in the sixteenth centurywas one of those spontaneous and powerful movements which have theirsource and derive their strength from the condition of men's souls andof whole communities, and not merely from the personal ambitions andinterests which soon come and mingle with them, whether it be to promoteor to retard them. One thing has been already here stated and confirmedby facts; it was specially in France that the Reformation had this trulyreligious and sincere character; very far from supporting or toleratingit, the sovereign and public authorities opposed it from its very birth;under Francis I. It had met with no real defenders but its martyrs; andit was still the same under Henry II. During the reign of Francis I. , within a space of twenty-three years, there had been eighty-one capitalexecutions for heresy; during that of Henry II. , twelve years, there wereninety-seven for the same cause, and at one of these executions Henry II. Was present in person, on the space in front of Notre-Dame: a spectaclewhich Francis I. Had always refused to see. In 1551, 1557, and 1559, Henry II. , by three royal edicts, kept up and added to all theprohibitions and penalties in force against the Reformers. In 1550, themassacre of the Vaudians was still in such lively and odious remembrancethat a noble lady of Provence, Madame de Cental, did not hesitate topresent a complaint, in the name of her despoiled, proscribed, andmurdered vassals, against the Cardinal de Tournon, the Count de Grignan, and the Premier President Maynier d'Oppede, as having abused, for thepurpose of getting authority for this massacre, the religious feelings ofthe king, who on his death-bed had testified his remorse for it. "Thiscause, " says De Thou, "was pleaded with much warmth, and occupied fiftyaudiences, with a large concourse of people, but the judgment took allthe world by surprise. Guerin alone, advocate-general in 1545, having nosupport at court, was condemned to death, and was scape-goat for all therest. D'Oppede defended himself with fanatical pride, saying that heonly executed the king's orders, like Saul, whom God commanded toexterminate the Amalekites. He had the Duke of Guise to protect him; andhe was sent back to discharge the duties of his office. Such was theprejudice of the Parliament of Paris against the Reformers that itinterdicted the hedge-schools (_ecoles buissonnieres_), schools which theProtestants held out in the country to escape from the jurisdiction ofthe precentor of Notre-Dame de Paris, who had the sole supervision ofprimary schools. Hence comes the proverb, to play truant (_faire l'ecolebuissonniere--to go to hedge school_). All the resources of French civiljurisdiction appeared to be insufficient against the Reformers. HenryII. Asked the pope for a bull, transplanting into France the SpanishInquisition, the only real means of extirpating the root of the errors. "It was the characteristic of this Inquisition, that it was completely inthe hands of the clergy, and that its arm was long enough to reach thelay and the clerical indifferently. Pope Paul IV. Readily gave the king, in April, 1557, the bull he asked for, but the Parliament of Parisrefused to enregister the royal edict which gave force in France to thepontifical brief. In 1559 the pope replied to this refusal by a bullwhich comprised in one and the same anathema all heretics, though theymight be kings or emperors, and declared them to have "forfeited theirbenefices, states, kingdoms, or empires, the which should devolve on thefirst to seize them, without power on the part of the Holy See itself torestore them. " [_Magnum Bullarium Romanum, a Beato Leone Magno adPaulum IV. , _ t. I. P. 841: Luxembourg, 1742. ] The Parliament would notconsent to enregister the decree unless there were put in it a conditionto the effect that clerics alone should be liable to the inquisition, andthat the judges should be taken from amongst the clergy of France. Forall their passionate opposition to the Reformation, the Magistrates hadno idea of allowing either the kingship or France to fall beneath theyoke of the papacy. 

Amidst all these disagreements and distractions in the very heart ofCatholicism, the Reformation went on growing from day to day. In 1558, Lorenzo, the Venetian ambassador, set down even then the number of theReformers at four hundred thousand. In 1559, at the death of Henry II. , Claude Haton, a priest and contemporary chronicler on the Catholic side, calculated that they were nearly a quarter of the population of France. They held at Paris, in May, 1559, their first general synod; and elevenfully established churches sent deputies to it. This synod drew up aform of faith called the Gallican Confession, and likewise a form ofdiscipline. "The burgess-class, for a long while so indifferent to theburnings that took place, were astounded at last at the constancy withwhich the pile was mounted by all those men and all those women who hadnothing to do but to recant in order to save their lives. Some could notpersuade themselves that people so determined were not in the right;others were moved with compassion. 'Their very hearts, ' saycontemporaries, 'wept together with their eyes. '" It needed only anopportunity to bring these feelings out. Some of the faithful one day inthe month of May, 1558, on the public walk in the Pre-aux-Clercs, beganto sing the psalms of Marot. Their singing had been forbidden by theParliament of Bordeaux, but the practice of singing those psalms had butlately been so general that it could not be looked upon as peculiar toheretics. All who happened to be there, suddenly animated by one and thesame feeling, joined in with the singers, as if to protest against thepunishments which were being repeated day after day. This manifestationwas renewed on the following days. The King of Navarre, Anthony deBourbon, Prince Louis de Conde, his brother, and many lords took part init together with a crowd, it is said, of five or six thousand persons. It was not in the Pre-aux-Clercs only and by singing that this new stateof mind revealed itself amongst the highest classes as well as amongstthe populace. The Queen of Navarre, Jeanne d'Albret, in her early youth, "was as fond of a ball as of a sermon, " says Brantome, "and she hadadvised her spouse, Anthony de Bourbon, who inclined towards Calvinism, not to perplex himself with all these opinions. " In 1559 she waspassionately devoted to the faith and the cause of the Reformation. Withmore levity, but still in sincerity, her brother-in-law, Louis de Conde, put his ambition and his courage at the service of the same cause. Admiral de Coligny's youngest brother, Francis d'Andelot, declaredhimself a Reformer to Henry II. Himself, who, in his wrath, threw a plateat his head, and sent him to prison in the castle of Melun. Colignyhimself, who had never disguised the favorable sentiments he felt towardsthe Reformers, openly sided with them on the ground of his own personalfaith, as well as of the justice due to them. At last the Reformationhad really great leaders, men who had power and were experienced in theaffairs of the world; it was becoming a political party as well as areligious conviction; and the French Reformers were henceforth in acondition to make war as well as die at the stake for their faith. Hitherto they had been only believers and martyrs; they became thevictors and the vanquished, alternately, in a civil war. 

A new position for them, and as formidable as it was grand. It wasdestined to bring upon them cruel trials and the worth of them inimportant successes; first, the Saint-Bartholomew, then the accession ofHenry IV. And the edict of Nantes. At a later period, under Louis XIII. And Louis XIV. , the complication of the religious question and thepolitical question cost them the advantages they had won; the edict ofNantes disappeared together with the power of the Protestants in thestate. They were no longer anything but heretics and rebels. A day wasto come, when, by the force alone of moral ideas, and in the name aloneof conscience and justice, they would recover all the rights they had fora time possessed, and more also; but in the sixteenth century that daywas still distant, and armed strife was for the Reformers their onlymeans of defence and salvation. God makes no account of centuries, and agreat deal is required before the most certain and the most salutarytruths get their place and their rights in the minds and communities ofmen. 

On the 29th of June, 1559, a brilliant tournament was celebrated in listserected at the end of the street of Saint-Antoine, almost at the foot ofthe Bastille. Henry II. , the queen, and the whole court had been presentat it for three days. The entertainment was drawing to a close. Theking, who had run several tilts "like a sturdy and skilful cavalier, "wished to break yet another lance, and bade the Count de Montgomery, captain of the guards, to run against him. Montgomery excused himself;but the king insisted. The tilt took place. The two jousters, onmeeting, broke their lances skilfully; but Montgomery forgot to drop atonce, according to usage, the fragment remaining in his hand; heunintentionally struck the king's helmet and raised the visor, and asplinter of wood entered Henry's eye, who fell forward upon his horse'sneck. All the appliances of art were useless; the brain had beeninjured. Henry II. Languished for eleven days, and expired on the 10thof July, 1559, aged forty years and some months. An insignificant man, and a reign without splendor, though fraught with facts pregnant of graveconsequences. 

[Illustration: Joust between Henri II. And Count de Montgomery----268]

CHAPTER XXXII. ----FRANCIS II. , JULY 10, 1559--DECEMBER 5, 1560. 

During the course, and especially at the close of Henry II. 's reign, tworival matters, on the one hand the numbers, the quality, and the zeal ofthe Reformers, and on the other, the anxiety, prejudice, and power of theCatholics, had been simultaneously advancing in development and growth. Between the 16th of May, 1558, and the 10th of July, 1559, fifteencapital sentences had been executed in Dauphiny, in Normandy, in Poitou, and at Paris. Two royal edicts, one dated July 24, 1558, and the otherJune 14, 1559, had renewed and aggravated the severity of penallegislation against heretics. To secure the registration of the latter, Henry II. , together with the princes and the officers of the crown, hadrepaired in person to Parliament; some disagreement had already appearedin the midst of that great body, which was then composed of a hundred andthirty magistrates; the seniors who sat in the great chamber had ingeneral shown themselves to be more inclined to severity, and the juniorswho formed the chamber called La Tournelle more inclined to indulgencetowards accusations of heresy. The disagreement reached its climax inthe very presence of the king. Two councillors, Dubourg and Dufaure, spoke so warmly of reforms which were, according to them, necessary andlegitimate, that their adversaries did not hesitate to tax them withbeing Reformers themselves. The king had them arrested, and three oftheir colleagues with them. Special commissioners were charged with thepreparation of the case against them. It has already been mentioned thatone of the most considerable amongst the officers of the army, Francisd'Andelot, brother of Admiral Coligny, had, for the same cause, beensubjected to a burst of anger on the part of the king. He was in prisonat Meaux when Henry II. Died. Such were the personal feelings and therelative positions of the two parties when Francis II. , a boy of sixteen, a poor creature both in mind and body, ascended the throne. 

[Illustration: Francis II----269]

Deputies from Parliament went, according to custom, to offer theirfelicitations to the new king, and to ask him "to whom it was hispleasure that they should, thenceforward, apply for to learn his will andreceive his commands. " Francis II. Replied, "With the approbation of thequeen my mother, I have chosen the Duke of Guise and the Cardinal ofLorraine, my uncles, to have the direction of the state; the former willtake charge of the department of war, the latter the administration offinance and justice. " Such had, in fact, been his choice, and it was nodoubt with his mother's approbation that he had made it. Equallyattentive to observe the proprieties and to secure her own power, Catherine de' Medici, when going out to drive with her son and herdaughter-in-law Mary Stuart, on the very day of Henry II. 's death, saidto Mary, "Step in, madame; it is now your turn to go first. "

[Illustration: MARY STUART----270]

During the first days of mourning she kept herself in a room entirelyhung with black; and there was no light beyond two wax-candles burning onan altar covered with black cloth. She had upon her head a black veil, which shrouded her entirely, and hid her face; and, when any one of thehousehold went to speak to her, she replied in so agitated and so weaka tone of voice that it was impossible to catch her words, whateverattention might be paid to them. But her presence of mind and herenergy, so far as the government was concerned, were by no means affectedby it; he who had been the principal personage at the court under HenryII. , the Constable de Montmorency, perfectly understood, at his firstinterview with the queen-mother, that he was dismissed, and all he askedof her was, that he might go and enjoy his repose in freedom at hisresidence of Chantilly, begging her at the same time to take under herprotection the heirs of his house. Henry II. 's favorite, Diana dePoitiers, was dismissed more harshly. "The king sent to tell Madame deValentinois, " writes the Venetian ambassador, "that for her evilinfluence (_mali officii_) over the king his father she would deserveheavy chastisement; but, in his royal clemency, he did not wish todisquiet her any further; she must, nevertheless, restore to him all thejewels given her by the king his father. " "To bend Catherine de' Medici, Diana was also obliged, " says De Thou, "to give up her beautiful house atChenonceaux on the Cher, and she received in exchange the castle ofChaumont on the Loire. " The Guises obtained all the favors of the courtat the same time that they were invested with all the powers of thestate. 

In order to give a good notion of Duke Francis of Guise and his brotherthe Cardinal of Lorraine, the two heads of the house, we will borrow thevery words of those two men of their age who had the best means of seeingthem close and judging them correctly, the French historian De Thou andthe Venetian ambassador John Micheli. "The Cardinal of Lorraine, " saysDe Thou, "was of an impetuous and violent character; the Duke of Guise, on the contrary, was of a gentle and moderate disposition. But asambition soon overleaps the confines of restraint and equity, he wascarried away by the violent counsels of the cardinal, or else surrenderedhimself to them of his own accord, executing with admirable prudence andaddress the plans which were always chalked out by his brother. " TheVenetian ambassador enters into more precise and full details. "Thecardinal, " he says, "who is the leading man of the house, would be, bycommon consent, if it were not for the defects of which I shall speak, the greatest political power in this kingdom. He has not yet completedhis thirty-seventh year; he is endowed with a marvellous intellect, whichapprehends from half a word the meaning of those who converse with him;he has an astonishing memory, a fine and noble face, and a rare eloquencewhich shows itself freely on any subject, but especially in matters ofpolitics. He is very well versed in letters: he knows Greek, Latin, andItalian. He is very strong in the sciences, chiefly in theology. Theexternals of his life are very proper and very suitable to his dignity, which could not be said of the other cardinals and prelates, whose habitsare too scandalously irregular. But his great defect is shamefulcupidity, which would employ, to attain its ends, even criminal means, and likewise great duplicity, whence comes his habit of scarcely eversaying that which is. There is worse behind. He is considered to bevery ready to take offence, vindictive, envious, and far too slow inbenefaction. He excited universal hatred by hurting all the world aslong as it was in his power to. As for Mgr. De Guise, who is the eldestof the six brothers, he cannot be spoken of save as a man of war, a goodofficer. None in this realm has delivered more battles and confrontedmore dangers. Everybody lauds his courage, his vigilance, his steadinessin war, and his coolness, a quality wonderfully rare in a Frenchman. Hispeculiar defects are, first of all, stinginess towards soldiers; then hemakes large promises, and even when he means to keep his promise he isinfinitely slow about it. "

To the sketch of the Cardinal of Lorraine Brantome adds that he was, "as indeed he said, a coward by nature. " a strange defect in a Guise. 

It was a great deal, towards securing the supremacy of a great familyand its leading members, to thus possess the favor of the court and thefunctions of government; but the power of the Guises had a still higherorigin and a still deeper foundation. "It was then, " said Michael deCastelnau, one of the most intelligent and most impartial amongst thechroniclers of the sixteenth century, "that schism and divisions inreligious matters began to be mixed up with affairs of state. Well, allthe clergy of France, and nearly all the noblesse and the people whobelonged to the Roman religion, considered that the Cardinal of Lorraineand the Duke of Guise were, as it were, called of God to preserve theCatholic religion established in France for the last twelve hundredyears. And it seemed to them not only an act of impiety to change oralter it in any way whatever, but also an impossibility to do so withoutruin to the state. The late king, Henry, had made a decree in the monthof June, 1559, being then at Ecouen, by which the judges were bound tosentence all Lutherans to death, and which was published and confirmed byall the Parliaments, without any limitation or modification whatever, andwith a warning to the judges not to mitigate the penalty, as they haddone for some years previously. Different judgments were pronounced uponthe decree: those who took the most political and most zealous view ofreligion considered that it was necessary, as well to preserve andmaintain the Catholic religion as to keep down the seditious, who, underthe cloak of religion, were doing all they could to upset the politicalcondition of the kingdom. Others, who cared nothing for religion, or forthe state, or for order in the body politic, also thought the decreenecessary, not at all for the purpose of exterminating the Protestants, --for they held that it would tend to multiply them, --but because itwould offer a means of enriching themselves by the confiscations ensuingupon condemnation, and because the king would thus be able to pay offforty-two millions of livres which he owed, and have money in hand, and, besides that, satisfy those who were demanding recompense for theservices they had rendered the crown, wherein many placed their hopes. "[_Memoires de Michael de Castelnau, in the Petitot collection, _ SeriesI. , t. Xxxiii. Pp. 24-27. ]

The Guises were, in the sixteenth century, the representatives and thechampions of these different cliques and interests, religious orpolitical, sincere in their belief or shameless in their avidity, andall united under the flag of the Catholic church. And so, when they cameinto power, "there was nothing, " says a Protestant chronicler, "but fearand trembling at their name. " Their acts of government soon confirmedthe fears as well as the hopes they had inspired. During the last sixmonths of 1559 the edict issued by Henry II. From Ecouen was not onlystrictly enforced, but aggravated by fresh edicts; a special chamber wasappointed and chosen amongst the Parliament of Paris, which was to havesole cognizance of crimes and offences against the Catholic religion. Aproclamation of the new king, Francis II. , ordained that houses in whichassemblies of Reformers took place should be razed and demolished. Itwas death to the promoters of "unlawful assemblies for purposes ofreligion or for any other cause. " Another royal act provided that allpersons, even relatives, who received amongst them any one condemned forheresy should seize him and bring him to justice, in default whereof theywould suffer the same penalty as he. Individual condemnations andexecutions abounded after these general measures; between the 2d ofAugust and the 31st of December, 1559, eighteen persons were burned alivefor open heresy, or for having refused to communicate according to therites of the Catholic church, or go to mass, or for having hawked aboutforbidden books. Finally, in December, the five councillors of theParliament of Paris, whom, six months previously, Henry II. Had orderedto be arrested and shut up in the Bastille, were dragged from prison andbrought to trial. The chief of them, Anne Dubourg, nephew of AnthonyDubourg, Chancellor of France under Francis I. , defended himself withpious and patriotic persistency, being determined to exhaust all pointsof law and all the chances of justice he could hope for without betrayinghis faith. Everything shows that he had nothing to hope for from hisjudges; one of them, the President Minard, as he was returning from thepalace on the evening of December 12, 1559, was killed by a pistol-shot;the assassin could not be discovered; but the crime, naturally ascribedto some friend of Dubourg, served only to make certain and to hasten thedeath of the prisoner on trial. Dubourg was condemned on the 22d ofDecember, and heard unmoved the reading of his sentence. "I forgive myjudges, " said he; "they have judged according to their own lights, notaccording to the light that comes from on high. Put out your fires, yesenators; be converted, and live happily. Think without ceasing of Godand on God. " After these words, which were taken down by the clerk ofthe court, "and which I have here copied, " says De Thou, Dubourg wastaken on the 23d of December, in a tumbrel to the Place de Greve. As hemounted the ladder he was heard repeating several times, "Forsake me not, my God, for fear lest I forsake thee. " He was strangled before he wascast into the flames (De Thou, t. Iii. Pp. 399-402), the sole favor hisfriends could obtain for him. 

But extreme severity on the part of the powers that be is effectual onlywhen it falls upon a country or upon parties that are effete with age, oralready vanquished and worn out by long struggles; when, on the contrary, it is brought to bear upon parties in the flush of youth, eager toproclaim and propagate themselves, so far from intimidating them, itanimates them, and thrusts them into the arena into which they were ofthemselves quite eager to enter. As soon as the rule of the Catholic, in the persons and by the actions of the Guises, became sovereign andaggressive, the threatened Reformers put themselves into the attitude ofdefence. They too had got for themselves great leaders, some valiant andardent, others prudent or even timid, but forced to declare themselveswhen the common cause was greatly imperilled. The house of Bourbon, issuing from St. Louis, had for its representatives in the sixteenthcentury Anthony de Bourbon, King of Navarre and husband of Jeanned'Albret, and his brother Louis de Bourbon, Prince of Conde. The King ofNavarre, weak and irresolute though brave enough, wavered betweenCatholicism and the Reformation, inclining rather in his heart to thecause of the Reformation, to which the queen his wife, who at firstshowed indifference, had before long become Passionately attached. Hisbrother, the Prince of Conde, young, fiery, and often flighty and rash, put himself openly at the head of the Reformed party. The house ofBourbon held itself to be the rival perforce of the house of Lorraine. It had amongst the high noblesse of France two allies, more fitted thanany others for fighting and for command, Admiral de Coligny and hisbrother, Francis d'Andelot, both of them nephews of the Constable Anne deMontmorency, both of them already experienced and famous warriors, andboth of them devoted, heart and soul, to the cause of the Reformation. Thus, at the accession of Francis II. , whilst the Catholic party, bymeans of the Guises, and with the support of the majority of the country, took in hand the government of France, the reforming party rangedthemselves round the King of Navarre, the Prince of Conde, and Admiral deColigny, and became, under their direction, though in a minority, apowerful opposition, able and ready, on the one hand, to narrowly watchand criticise the actions of those who were in power, and on the other toclaim for their own people, not by any means freedom as a generalprinciple in the constitution of the state, but free manifestation oftheir faith, and free exercise of their own form of worship. 

Apart from--we do not mean to say above-these two great parties, whichwere arrayed in the might and appeared as the representatives of thenational ideas and feelings, the queen-mother, Catherine de' Medici, wasquietly laboring to form another, more independent of the public, andmore docile to herself, and, above all, faithful to the crown and to theinterests of the kingly house and its servants; a party strictlyCatholic, but regarding as a necessity the task of humoring the Reformersand granting them such concessions as might prevent explosions fraughtwith peril to the state; a third party (tiers part), as we should saynowadays, politic and prudent, somewhat lavish of promises without beingsure of the power to keep them, not much embarrassed at having to changeattitude and language according to the shifting phases of the moment, andanxious above everything to maintain public peace and to put offquestions which it could not solve pacifically. In the sixteenthcentury, as at every other time, worthy folks of moderate views andnervous temperaments, ambitious persons combining greed with suppleness, old servants of the crown, and officials full of scruples and far frombold in the practical part of government, were the essential elements ofthis party. The Constable de Montmorency sometimes issued forth fromChantilly to go and aid the queen-mother, in whom he had no confidence, but whom he preferred to the Guises. A former councillor of theParliament, for a long while chancellor under Francis I. And Henry II. , and again summoned, under Francis II. , by Catherine de' Medici to thesame post, Francis Olivier, was an honorable executant of the party'sindecisive but moderate policy. He died on the 15th of March, 1560;and Catherine, in concert with the Cardinal of Lorraine, had thechancellorship thus vacated conferred upon Michael de l'Hospital, amagistrate already celebrated, and destined to become still more so. Assoon as he entered upon this great office he made himself remarkable bythe marvellous ability he showed in restraining within bounds "theLorraines themselves, whose servant he was, " says the Protestantchronicler Regnier de la Planche; "to those who had the public weal atheart he gave hope that all would at last turn out well, provided that hewere let alone; and, to tell the truth, it would be impossible toadequately describe the prudence he displayed; for, assuredly, althoughif he had taken a shorter road towards manfully opposing the mischief hewould have deserved more praise, and God would perhaps have blessed hisconstancy, yet, so far as one can judge, he alone, by his moderatebehavior, was the instrument made use of by God for keeping back many animpetuous flood under which every Frenchman would have been submerged. External appearances, however, seemed to the contrary. In short, whenany one represented to him some trouble that was coming, he always hadthese words on his lips: 'Patience, patience; all will go well. '" Thisphilosophical and patriotic confidence on the part of Chancellor del'Hospital was fated to receive some cruel falsifications. 

A few months, and hardly so much, after the accession of Francis II. , a serious matter brought into violent collision the three parties whosecharacteristics and dispositions have just been described. The supremacyof the Guises was insupportable to the Reformers, and irksome to manylukewarm or wavering members of the Catholic nobility. An edict of theking's had revoked all the graces and alienations of domains granted byhis father. The crown refused to pay its most lawful debts, and dunswere flocking to the court. To get rid of them, the Cardinal of Lorrainehad a proclamation issued by the king, warning all persons, of whatevercondition, who had come to dun for payment of debts, for compensations, or for graces, to take themselves off within twenty-four hours on pain ofbeing hanged; and, that it might appear how seriously meant the threatwas, a very conspicuous gibbet was erected at Fontainebleau close to thepalace. It was a shocking affront. The malcontents at once made up tothe Reformers. Independently of the general oppression and perils underwhich these latter labored, they were liable to meet everywhere, at thecorners of the streets, men posted on the lookout, who insulted them anddenounced them to the magistrates if they did not uncover themselvesbefore the madonnas set up in their way, or if they did not join in thelitanies chanted before them. A repetition of petty requisitions soonbecomes an odious tyranny. An understanding was established between verydifferent sorts of malcontents; they all said and spread abroad that theGuises were the authors of these oppressive and unjustifiable acts. Theymade common cause in seeking for means of delivering themselves, at thesame time drawing an open distinction between the Guises and the king, the latter of whom there was no idea of attacking. The inviolability ofkings and the responsibility of ministers, those two fundamental maximsof a free monarchy, had already become fixed ideas; but how were they tobe taken advantage of and put in practice when the institutions wherebypolitical liberty exerts its powers and keeps itself secure were not inforce? The malcontents, whether Reformers or Catholics, all cried outfor the states-general. Those of Tours, in 1484, under Charles VIII. , had left behind them a momentous and an honored memory. But the Guisesand their partisans energetically rejected this cry. "They told the kingthat whoever spoke of convoking the states-general was his personal enemyand guilty of high treason; for his people would fain impose law upon himfrom whom they ought to take it, in such sort that there would be left tohim nothing of a king but the bare title. The queen-mother, though allthe while giving fair words to the malcontents, whether Reformers orothers, was also disquieted at their demands, and she wrote to herson-in-law, Philip II. , King of Spain, 'that they wanted, by means of thesaid states, to reduce her to the condition of a maid-of-all-work. 'Whereupon Philip replied 'that he would willingly employ all his forcesto uphold the authority of the king his brother-in-law and of hisministers, and that he had forty thousand men all ready in case anybodyshould be bold enough to attempt to violate it. '"

In their perplexity, the malcontents, amongst whom the Reformers werebecoming day by day the most numerous and the most urgent, determined totake the advice of the greatest lawyers and most celebrated theologiansof France and Germany. They asked whether it would be permissible, witha good conscience and without falling into the crime of high treason, totake up arms for the purpose of securing the persons of the Duke of Guiseand the Cardinal of Lorraine, and forcing them to render an account oftheir administration. The doctors, on being consulted, answered that itwould be allowable to oppose by force the far from legitimate supremacyof the Guises, provided that it were done under the authority of princesof the blood, born administrators of the realm in such cases, and withthe consent of the orders composing the state, or the greatest andsoundest portion of those orders. A meeting of the princes who werehostile to the Guises were held at Vendome to deliberate as to theconduct to be adopted in this condition of opinions and parties;the King of Navarre and his brother the Prince of Conde, Coligny, D'Andelot, and some of their most intimate friends took part in it;and D'Ardres, confidential secretary to the Constable de Montmorency, waspresent. The Prince of Conde was for taking up arms at once and swoopdown upon the Guises, taking them by surprise. Coligny formally opposedthis plan; the king, at his majority, had a right, he said, to choose hisown advisers; no doubt it was a deplorable thing to see foreigners at thehead of affairs, but the country must not, for the sake of removing them, be rashly exposed to the scourge of civil war; perhaps it would be enoughif the queen-mother were made acquainted with the general discontent. The constable's secretary coincided with Coligny, whose opinion wascarried. It was agreed that the Prince of Conde should restrain hisardor, and let himself be vaguely regarded as the possible leader of theenterprise if it were to take place, but without giving it, until furthernotice, his name and co-operation. He was called the mute captain. 

There was need of a less conspicuous and more pronounced leader for thatwhich was becoming a conspiracy. And one soon presented himself in theperson of Godfrey de Barri, Lord of La Renaudie, a nobleman of an ancientfamily of Perigord, well known to Duke Francis of Guise, under whoseorders he had served valiantly at Metz in 1552, and who had for some timeprotected him against the consequences of a troublesome trial, at whichLa Renaudie had been found guilty by the Parliament of Paris of forgingand uttering false titles. Being forced to leave France, he retired intoSwitzerland, to Lausanne and Geneva, where it was not long before heshowed the most passionate devotion for the Reformation. "He was a man, "says De Thou, "of quick and insinuating wits, ready to undertakeanything, and burning with desire to avenge himself, and wipe out, by some brilliant deed, the infamy of a sentence which he had incurredrather through another's than his own crime. He, then, readily offeredhis services to those who were looking out for a second leader, and heundertook to scour the kingdom in order to win over the men whose nameshad been given him. He got from them all a promise to meet him at Nantesin February, 1560, and he there made them a long and able speech againstthe Guises, ending by saying, 'God bids us to obey kings even when theyordain unjust things, and there is no doubt but that they who resist thepowers that God has set up do resist His will. We have this advantage, that we, ever full of submission to the prince, are set against none buttraitors hostile to their king and their country, and so much the moredangerous in that they nestle in the very bosom of the state, and, in thename and clothed with the authority of a king who is a mere child, areattacking the kingdom and the king himself. Now, in order that you maynot suppose that you will be acting herein against your consciences, I amquite willing to be the first to protest and take God to witness that Iwill not think, or say, or do anything against the king, against thequeen his mother, against the princes his brothers, or against those ofhis blood; and that, on the contrary, I will defend their majesty andtheir dignity, and, at the same time, the authority of the laws and theliberty of the country against the tyranny of a few foreigners. '" [DeThou, t. Iii. Pp. 467-480. ]

"Out of so large an assemblage, " adds the historian, "there was not foundto be one whom so delicate an enterprise caused to recoil, or who askedfor time to deliberate. It was agreed that, before anything else, alarge number of persons, without arms and free from suspicion, shouldrepair to court and there present a petition to the king, beseeching himnot to put pressure upon consciences any more, and to permit the freeexercise of religion; that at almost the same time a chosen body ofhorsemen should repair to Blois, where the king was, that theiraccomplices should admit them into the town and present a new petitionto the king against the Guises, and that, if these princes would notwithdraw and give an account of their administration, they should beattacked sword in hand; and, lastly, that the Prince of Conde, who hadwished his name to be kept secret up to that time, should put himself atthe head of the conspirators. The 15th of June was the day fixed for theexecution of it all. "

But the Guises were warned; one of La Renaudie's friends had revealed theconspiracy to the Cardinal of Lorraine's secretary; and from Spain, Germany, and Italy they received information as to the conspiracy hatchedagainst them. The cardinal, impetuous and pusillanimous too, was forcalling out the troops at once; but his brother the duke, "who was noteasily startled, " was opposed to anything demonstrative. They removedthe king to the castle of Amboise, a safer place than the town of Blois;and they concerted measures with the queen-mother, to whom theconspirators were, both in their plans and their persons, almost asobjectionable as to them. She wrote, in a style of affectionateconfidence, to Coligny, begging him to come to Amboise and give her hisadvice. He arrived in company with his brother D'Andelot, and urged thequeen-mother to grant the Reformers liberty of conscience and of worship, the only way to checkmate all the mischievous designs and to restorepeace to the kingdom. Something of what he advised was done: a royaldecree was published and carried up to the Parliament on the 15th ofMarch, ordaining the abolition of every prosecution on account ofreligion, in respect of the past only, and under reservations whichrendered the grace almost inappreciable. The Guises, on their side, wrote to the Constable de Montmorency to inform him of the conspiracy, "of which you will feel as great horror as we do, " and they signed, Yourthoroughly best friends. The Prince of Conde himself, though informedabout the discovery of the plot, repaired to Amboise without showing anysigns of being disconcerted at the cold reception offered him by theLorraine princes. The Duke of Guise, always bold, even in hisprecautions, "found an honorable means of making sure of him, " saysCastelnau, "by giving him the guard at a gate of the town of Amboise, "where he had him under watch and ward himself. The lords and gentlemenattached to the court made sallies all around Amboise to prevent anyunexpected attack. "They caught a great many troops badly led and badlyequipped. Many poor folks, in utter despair and without a leader, askedpardon as they threw down upon the ground some wretched arms they bore, and declared that they knew no more about the enterprise than that therehad been a time appointed them to see a petition presented to the kingwhich concerned the welfare of his service and that of the kingdom. "[_Memoires de Castelnau, _ pp. 49, 50. ] On the 18th of March, La Renaudie, who was scouring the country, seeking to rally his men, encountered abody of royal horse who were equally hotly in quest of the conspirators;the two detachments attacked one another furiously; La Renaudie waskilled, and his body, which was carried to Amboise, was strung up to agallows on the bridge over the Loire with this scroll: "This is LaRenaudie, called La Forest, captain of the rebels, leader and author ofthe sedition. " Disorder continued for several days in the surroundingcountry; but the surprise attempted against the Guises was a failure, andthe important result of the riot of Amboise (_tumulte d'Amboise_), as itwas called, was an ordinance of Francis II. , who, on the 17th of March, 1560, appointed Duke Francis of Guise "his lieutenant-general, representing him in person absent and present in this good town ofAmboise and other places of the realm, with full power, authority, commission, and special mandate to assemble all the princes, lords, andgentlemen, and generally to command, order, provide, and dispose of allthings requisite and necessary. "

[Illustration: Death of La Renaudie----283]

The young king was, nevertheless, according to what appears, somewhattroubled at all this uproar and at the language of the conspirators. "I don't know how it is, " said he sometimes to the Guises, "but I hear itsaid that people are against you only. I wish you could be away fromhere for a time, that we might see whether it is you or I that they areagainst. " But the Guises set about removing this idea by telling theking that neither he nor his brothers would live one hour after theirdeparture, and "that the house of Bourbon were only seeking how toexterminate the king's house. " The caresses of the young queen MaryStuart were enlisted in support of these assertions of her uncles. Theymade a cruel use of their easy victory "for a whole month, " according tocontemporary chronicles, "there was nothing but hanging or drowningfolks. The Loire was covered with corpses strung, six, eight, ten, andfifteen, to long poles. . . . " "What was strange to see, " saysRegnier de la Planche, "and had never been wont under any form ofgovernment, they were led out to execution without having any sentencepronounced against them publicly, or having the cause of their deathdeclared, or having their names mentioned. They of the Guises reservedthe chief of them, after dinner, to make sport for the ladies; the twosexes were ranged at the windows of the castle, as if it were a questionof seeing some mummery played. And what is worse, the king and his youngbrothers were present at these spectacles, as if the desire were to'blood' them; the sufferers were pointed out to them by the Cardinal ofLorraine with all the signs of a man greatly rejoiced, and when the poorwretches died with more than usual firmness, he would say, 'See, sir, what brazenness and madness; the fear of death cannot abate their prideand felonry. What would they do, then, if they had you in theirclutches?'"

It was too much vengeance to take and too much punishment to inflict fora danger so short-lived and so strictly personal. So hideous was thespectacle that the Duchess of Guise, Anne d'Este, daughter of Renee ofFrance, Duchess of Ferrara, took her departure one day, saying, as shedid so, to Catherine de' Medici, "Ah! madame, what a whirlwind of hatredis gathering about the heads of my poor children!" There was, throughouta considerable portion of the country, a profound feeling of indignationagainst the Guises. One of their victims, Villemongey, just as it cameto his turn to die, plunged his hands into his comrades' blood, saying, "Heavenly Father, this is the blood of Thy children: Thou wilt avengeit!" John d'Aubigne, a nobleman of Saintonge, as he passed throughAmboise one market-day with his son, a little boy eight years old, stopped before the heads fixed upon the posts, and said to the child, "My boy, spare not thy head, after mine, to avenge these brave chiefs; ifthou spare thyself, thou shalt have my curse upon thee. " The ChancellorOlivier himself, for a long while devoted to the Guises, but nowseriously ill and disquieted about the future of his soul, said tohimself, quite low, as he saw the Cardinal of Lorraine, from whom he hadjust received a visit, going out, "Ah! cardinal, you are getting us alldamned!"

[Illustration: Louis de Bourbon, Prince of Condo----285]

The mysterious chieftain, the mute captain of the conspiracy of Amboise, Prince Louis of Conde, remained unattainted, and he remained at Amboiseitself. People were astounded at his security. He had orders not tomove away; his papers were seized by the grand prelate; but his coolnessand his pride did not desert him for an instant. We will borrow from the_Histoire des Princes de Conde_ (t. I. Pp. 68-71), by the Duke ofAumale, the present heir, and a worthy one, of that line, the account ofhis appearance before Francis II. , "in full council, in presence of thetwo queens, the knights of the order, and the great officers of thecrown. 'As I am certified, ' said he, 'that I have near the king's personenemies who are seeking the ruin of me and mine, I have begged him to dome so much favor as to hear my answer in this company here present. Now, I declare that, save his own person and the persons of his brothers, ofthe queen his mother and of the queen regnant, those who have reportedthat I was chief and leader of certain sedition-mongers, who are said tohave conspired against his person and state, have falsely and miserablylied. And renouncing, for the nonce, my quality as prince of the blood, which I hold, however, of God alone, I am ready to make them confess, atthe sword's point, that they are cowards and rascals, themselves seekingthe subversion of the state and the crown, whereof I am bound to promotethe maintenance by a better title than my accusers. If there be, amongstthose present, any one who has made such a report and will maintain it, let him declare as much this moment. ' The Duke of Guise, rising to hisfeet, protested that he could not bear to have so great a prince anylonger calumniated, and offered to be his second. Conde, profiting bythe effect produced by his proud language, demanded and obtained leaveto retire from the court, which he quitted at once. "

All seemed to be over; but the whole of France had been strongly moved bywhat had just taken place; and, though the institutions which invite apeople to interfere in its own destinies were not at the date of thesixteenth century in regular and effective working order, there waseverywhere felt, even at court, the necessity of ascertaining the feelingof the country. On all sides there was a demand for the convocation ofthe states-general. The Guises and the queen-mother, who dreaded thisgreat and independent national power, attempted to satisfy public opinionby calling an assembly of notables, not at all numerous, and chosen bythemselves. It was summoned to meet on August 21, 1560, atFontainebleau, in the apartments of the queen-mother. Some great lords, certain bishops, the Constable de Montmorency, two marshals of France, the privy councillors, the knights of the order, the secretaries of stateand finance, Chancellor de l'Hospital and Coligny, took part in it; theKing of Navarre and the Prince of Conde did not respond to the summonsthey received; the constable rode up with a following of six hundredhorse. The first day was fully taken up by a statement, presented to theassembly by L'Hospital, of the evils that had fallen upon France, and bya declaration on the part of the Guises that they were ready to render anaccount of their administration and of their actions. Next day, just asthe Bishop of Valence was about to speak, Coligny went up to the king, made two genuflections, stigmatized in energetic terms the Amboiseconspiracy and every similar enterprise, and presented two petitions, one intended for the king himself and the other for the queen-mother. "They were forwarded to me in Normandy, " said he, "by faithfulChristians, who make their prayers to God in accordance with the truerules of piety. They ask for nothing but the liberty of holding theirown creed, and that of having temples and celebrating their worship incertain fixed places. If necessary, this petition would be signed byfifty thousand persons. " "And I, " said the Duke of Guise brusquely, "would find a million to sign a contrary petition. " This incident wentno further between the two speakers. A great discussion began as to thereforms desirable in the church, and as to the convocation of a generalcouncil, or, in default thereof, a national council. The Cardinal ofLorraine spoke last, and vehemently attacked the petitions presented byAdmiral de Coligny. "Though couched in moderate and respectful terms, "said he, "this document is, at bottom, insolent and seditious; it is asmuch as to say that those gentry would be obedient and submissive if theking would be pleased to authorize their mischievous sentiments. For therest, " he added, "as it is merely a question of improving morals andputting in force strict discipline, the meeting of a council, whethergeneral or national, appears to me quite unnecessary. I consent to theholding of the states-general. "

The opinion of the Cardinal of Lorraine was adopted by the king, thequeen-mother, and the assemblage. An edict dated August 26 convoked ameeting of the states-general at Meaux on the 10th of December following. As to the question of a council, general or national, it was referred tothe decision of the pope and the bishops of France. Meanwhile, it wasannounced that the punishment of sectaries would, for the present, besuspended, but that the king reserved to himself and his judges the rightof severely chastising those who had armed the populace and kindledsedition. "Thus it was, " adds De Thou, "that the Protestant religion, hitherto so hated, began to be tolerated, and in a manner authorized, byconsent of its enemies themselves. " [_Histoire Universelle, _ t. Iii. P. 535. ]

The elections to the states-general were very stormy; all partiesdisplayed the same ardor; the Guises by identifying themselves more andmore with the Catholic cause, and employing, to further its triumph, allthe resources of the government; the Reformers by appealing to the rightsof liberty and to the passions bred of sect and of local independence. A royal decree was addressed to all the bailiffs of the kingdom. "Ye shall not fail, " said the king to them, "to keep your eyes open, and give orders that such mischievous spirits as may be composed of theremnants of the Amboise rebellion or other gentry, studious of innovationand alteration in the state, be so discovered and restrained that they benot able to corrupt by their machinations, under whatsoever pretexts theymay hide them, simple folks led on by confidence in the clemency whereofwe have heretofore made use. " The bailiffs followed, for the most partsuccessfully, but in some cases vainly, the instructions they hadreceived. One morning in December, 1560, the Duke of Guise was visitedby a courier from the Count de Villars, governor of Languedoc; heinformed the duke that the deputies of that province had just beenappointed, and that they all belonged to the new religion, and wereamongst the most devoted to the sect; there was not a moment to lose, "for they were men of wits, great reputation, and circumspection. Thegovernor was very vexed at not having been able to prevent their electionand departure; but plurality of votes had carried the day against him. "This despatch was "no sooner received than some men were got ready to goand meet those deputies, in order to put them in a place where they wouldnever have been able to do good or harm. " The deputies of Languedocescaped this ambuscade, and arrived safe and sound at Orleans; but they"were kept under strict watch, and their papers were confiscated up tothe moment when the death of the king occurred to deliver them from allfear. " [_Histoire des Etats generaux, _ by G. Picot, t. Ii. Pp. 25-29. ]In Provence, in Dauphiny, in the countship of Avignon, at Lyons, onoccasion and in the midst of the electoral struggle, several localrisings, seizures of arms, and surprisals of towns took place anddisturbed the public peace. There was not yet religious civil war, butthere were the preparatory note and symptoms of it. 

At the same time that they were thus laboring to keep out of theapproaching states-general adversaries of obscure rank and belonging tothe people, the Guises had very much at heart a desire that the greatleaders of the Reformers and of the Catholic malcontents, especially thetwo princes of the house of Bourbon, the King of Navarre and the Princeof Conde, should come to this assembly, and there find themselves underthe thumb of their enemies. They had not gone to the assemblage ofnotables at Fontainebleau, and their hostility to the Guises had beenopenly shown during and since that absence. Nothing was left untried toattract them, not to Meaux any longer, but to Orleans, whither themeeting of the states-general had been transferred. King Francis II. , a docile instrument in the hands of his uncles and his young queen theirniece, wrote letter after letter to the King of Navarre, urging him tobring with him his brother the Prince of Conde to clear himself of theaccusations brought against him "by these miserable heretics, who mademarvellous charges against him. . . . Conde would easily prove thefalsity of the assertions made by these rascals. " The King of Navarrestill hesitated; the king insisted haughtily. "I should be sorry, " hewrote on the 30th of August, 1560, "that into the heart of a person ofsuch good family, and one that touches me so nearly, so miserable aninclination should have entered; being able to assure you thatwhereinsoever he refuses to obey me I shall know perfectly well how tomake it felt that I am king. " The Prince of Conde's mother-in-law, theCountess of Roye, wrote to the queen-mother that the prince would appearat court if the king commanded it; but she begged her beforehand not tothink it strange if, on going to a place where his most cruel enemies hadevery power, he went attended by his friends. Whether she really were, or only pretended to be, shocked at what looked like a threat, Catherinereplied that no person in France had a right to approach the king in anyother wise than with his ordinary following, and that, if the Prince ofConde went to court with a numerous escort, he would find the king stillbetter attended. At last the King of Navarre and his brother made uptheir minds. How could they elude formal orders? Armed resistance hadbecome the only possible resource, and the Prince of Conde lacked meansto maintain it; his scarcity of money was such that, in order to procurehim a thousand gold crowns, his mother-in-law had been obliged to pledgeher castle of Germany to the Constable de Montmorency. In spite of fearsand remonstrances on the part of their most sincere friends, the twochiefs of the house of Bourbon left their homes and set out for Orleans. On their arrival before Poitiers, great was their surprise: the governor, Montpezat, shut the gates against them as public enemies. They were onthe point of abruptly retracing their steps; but Montpezat had illunderstood his instructions; he ought to have kept an eye upon theBourbons without displaying any bad disposition towards them, so long asthey prosecuted their journey peacefully; the object was, on thecontrary, to heap upon them marks of respect, and neglect nothing to givethem confidence. Marshal de Termes, despatched in hot haste, went toopen the gates of Poitiers to the princes, and receive them there withthe honors due to them. They resumed their route, and arrived on the30th of October at Orleans. 

The reception they there met with cannot be better described than it hasbeen by the Duke of Aumale: "Not one of the crown's officers came toreceive the princes; no honor was paid them; the streets were deserted, silent, and occupied by a military guard. In conformity with usage, theKing of Navarre presented himself on horseback at the great gate of theroyal abode; it remained closed. He had to pocket the insult, and passon foot through the wicket, between a double row of gentlemen wearing anair of insolence. The king awaited the princes in his chamber; behindhim were ranged the Guises and the principal lords; not a word, not asalutation on their part. After this freezing reception, Francis II. Conducted the two brothers to his mother, who received them, according toRegnier de la Planche's expression, 'with crocodile's tears. ' The Guisesdid not follow them thither, in order to escape any personal dispute, andso as not to be hearers of the severe words which they had themselvesdictated to the young monarch. The king questioned Conde sharply; butthe latter, 'who was endowed with great courage, and spoke as well asever any prince or gentleman in the world, was not at all startled, anddefended his cause with many good and strong reasons, ' protesting hisown innocence and accusing the Guises of calumniation. When he haughtilyalluded to the word of honor which had been given him, the king, interrupting him, made a sign; and the two captains of the guard, Brezeand Chavigny, entered and took the prince's sword. He was conducted to ahouse in the city, near the Jacobins', which was immediately barred, crenelated, surrounded by soldiers, and converted into a veritablebastile. Whilst they were removing him thither, Conde exclaimed loudlyagainst this brazen violation of all the promises of safety by which hehad been lured on when urged to go to Orleans. The only answer hereceived was his committal to absolutely solitary confinement and thewithdrawal of his servants. The King of Navarre vainly asked to have hisbrother's custody confided to him; he obtained nothing but a coarserefusal; and he himself, separated from his escort, was kept under ocularsupervision in his apartment. "

The trial of the Prince of Conde commenced immediately. He was broughtbefore the privy council. He claimed, as a prince of the blood andknight of the order of St. Michael, his right to be tried only by thecourt of Parliament furnished with the proper complement of peers andknights of the order. This latter safeguard was worth nothing in hiscase, for there had been created, just lately, eighteen new knights, allfriends and creatures of the Guises. His claim, however, was rejected;and he repeated it, at the same time refusing to reply to anyinterrogation, and appealing "from the king ill advised to the kingbetter advised. " A priest was sent to celebrate mass in his chamber: but"I came, " said he, "to clear myself from the calumnies alleged againstme, which is of more consequence to me than hearing mass. " He did notattempt to conceal his antipathy towards the Guises, and the part he hadtaken in the hostilities directed against them. An officer, to whompermission had been given to converse with him in presence of hiscustodians, told him "that an appointment (accommodation) with the Dukeof Guise would not be an impossibility for him. " "Appointment betweenhim and me!" answered Conde: "it can only be at the point of the lance. "The Duchess Renee of Ferrara, daughter of Louis XII. , having come toFrance at this time, went to Orleans to pay her respects to the king. The Duke of Guise was her son-in-law, and she reproached him bitterlywith Conde's trial. "You have just opened, " said she, "a wound whichwill bleed a long while; they who have dared to attack persons of theblood royal have always found it a bad job. " The prince asked to see, inthe presence of such persons as the king might appoint, his wife, Eleanorof Roye, who, from the commencement of the trial, "solicited this favornight and day, often throwing herself on her knees before the king withtears incredible; but the Cardinal of Lorraine, fearing lest his Majestyshould be moved with compassion, drove away the princess most rudely, saying that, if she had her due, she would herself be placed in thelowest dungeon. " For them of Guise the princess was a thorn in theflesh, for she lacked not wits, or language, or courage, insomuch thatthey had some discussion about making away with her. [_Memoires deCastelnau, _ p. 119; _Histoire de l'Etat de France, Cant de la Republiqueque de la Religion, sous Francois II. , _ by L. Regnier, Sieur de laPlanche. ] She demanded that at any rate able lawyers might act ascounsel for her husband. Peter Robert and Francis de Marillac, advocatesof renown in the Parliament of Paris, were appointed by the king for thatpurpose, but their assistance proved perfectly useless; on the 26th ofNovember, 1560, the Prince of Conde was sentenced to death; and thesentence was to be carried out on the 10th of December, the very day ofthe opening of the states-general. Most of the historians say that, whenit came to the question of signing it, three judges only, Chancellor del'Hospital, the councillor of state, Duportail, and the aged Count ofSancerre, Louis de Bueil, refused to put their names to it. "For mypart, " says the scrupulous De Thou, "I can see nothing quite certain asto all that. I believe that the sentence of death was drawn up and notsigned. I remember to have heard it so said a long while afterwards bymy father, a truthful and straightforward man, to whom this form ofsentence had always been distasteful. "

Many contemporaries report, and De Thou accords credence to the report, that, in order to have nothing more to fear from the house of Bourbon, the Guises had resolved to make away with King Anthony of Navarre as wellas his brother the Prince of Conde, but by another process. Feelingpersuaded that it would be impossible to obtain against the elder brothera sentence ever so little in accordance with justice, for his conduct hadbeen very reserved, they had, it is said, agreed that King Francis II. Should send for the King of Navarre into his closet and reproach himseverely for his secret complicity with his brother Conde, and that ifthe King of Navarre defended himself stubbornly, he should be put todeath on the spot by men posted there for the purpose. It is even addedthat Francis II. Was to strike the first blow. Catherine de' Medici, whowas beginning to be disquieted at the arrogance and successes of theLorraine princes, sent warning of this peril to the King of Navarre byJacqueline de Longwy, Duchess of Montpensier; and, just as he wasproceeding to the royal audience from which he was not sure to return, Anthony de Bourbon, who was wanting in head rather than in heart, said toRenty, one of his gentlemen, "If I die yonder, carry my blood-stainedshirt to my wife and my son, and tell my wife to send it round to theforeign princes of Christendom, that they may avenge my death, as my sonis not yet of sufficient age. " We may remark that the wife was Jeanned'Albret, and the son was to be Henry IV. According to the chroniclers, when Francis II. Looked in the eyes of the man he was to strike, hisfierce resolve died away: the King of Navarre retired, safe and sound, from the interview, and the Duke of Guise, irritated at the weakness ofthe king his master, muttered between his teeth, "'Tis the very whitestliver that ever was. "

In spite of De Thou's indorsement of this story, it is doubtful whetherits authenticity can be admitted; if the interview between the two kingstook place, prudence on the part of the King of Navarre seems to be quiteas likely an explanation of the result as hesitation to become a murdereron the part of Francis II. 

One day Conde was playing cards with some officers on guard over him, when a servant of his who had been permitted to resume attendance on hismaster, pretending to approach him for the purpose of picking up a card, whispered in his ear, "Our gentleman is _croqued_. " The prince, mastering his emotion, finished his game. He then found means of beingfor a moment alone with his servant, and learned from him that FrancisII. Was dead. [_Histoire des Princes de Conde, by the Duke d'Aumale, _t. I. P. 94. ] On the 17th of November, 1560, as he was mounting hishorse to go hunting, he fainted suddenly. He appeared to have recovered, and was even able to be present when the final sentence was pronouncedagainst Conde; but on the 29th of November there was a freshfainting-fit. It appears that Ambrose Pare, at that time the firstsurgeon of his day, and a faithful Reformer, informed his patron, AdmiralColigny, that there would not be long to wait, and that it was all overwith the king. Up to the very last moment, either by themselves orthrough their niece Mary Stuart, the Guises preserved their influenceover him: Francis II. Sent for the King of Navarre, to assure him that itwas quite of his own accord, and not by advice of the Guises, that he hadbrought Conde to trial. He died on the 5th of December, 1560, of aneffusion on the brain, resulting from a fistula and an abscess in theear. 

[Illustration: Mary Stuart----284]

Through a fog of brief or doubtful evidence we can see at the bedside ofthis dying king his wife Mary Stuart, who gave him to the last her tenderministrations, and Admiral de Coligny, who, when the king had heaved hislast sigh, rose up, and, with his air of pious gravity, said aloud beforethe Cardinal of Lorraine and the others who were present, "Gentlemen, theking is dead. A lesson to us to live. " At the same moment the Constablede Montmorency, who had been ordered some time ago to Orleans, but had, according to his practice, travelled but slowly, arrived suddenly at thecity gate, threatened to hang the ill-informed keepers of it, whohesitated to let him enter, and hastened to fold in his arms his niece, the Princess of Conde, whom the death of Francis II. Restored to hope. 

[Illustration: Coligny at the Death-bed of Francis II. ----295]

CHAPTER XXXIII. ----CHARLES IX. AND THE RELIGIOUS WARS. (1560-1574. )

We now enter upon the era of the civil wars, massacres, andassassinations caused by religious fanaticism or committed on religiouspretexts. The latter half of the sixteenth century is the time at whichthe human race saw the opening of that great drama, of which religiousliberty is the beginning and the end; and France was then the chief sceneof it. At the close of the fifteenth and at the commencement of thesixteenth centuries, religious questions had profoundly agitatedChristian Europe; but towards the middle of the latter century they hadobtained in the majority of European states solutions which, howeverincomplete, might be regarded as definitive. Germany was divided intoCatholic states and Protestant states, which had established betweenthemselves relations of an almost pacific character. Switzerland wasentering upon the same course. In England, Scotland, the Low Countries, the Scandinavian states, and the free towns their neighbors, theReformation had prevailed or was clearly tending to prevail. In Italy, Spain, and Portugal, on the contrary, the Reformation had been stifled, and Catholicism remained victorious. It was in France that, notwithstanding the inequality of forces, the struggle betweenCatholicism and Protestantism was most obstinately maintained, andappeared for the longest time uncertain. After half a century of civilwars and massacres it terminated in Henry IV. , a Protestant king, whoturned Catholic, but who gave Protestants the edict of Nantes; aprecious, though insufficient and precarious pledge, which served Franceas a point of departure towards religious liberty, and which protected itfor nearly a century, in the midst of the brilliant victory won byCatholicism. [The edict of Nantes, published by Henry IV. In 1598, wasrevoked by Louis XIV. In 1685. ]

For more than three centuries civilized Europe has been discussing, proor con, the question of religious liberty, but from instinct and withpassion far more than with a serious understanding of what is at thebottom of things. Even in our own day it is not without difficulty thata beginning is being made to understand and accept that principle in itstrue sense and in all its bearings. Men were wonderfully far from it in1560, at the accession of Charles IX. , a child ten years old; they wereentering, in blind confidence, upon a religious war, in order to arrive, only after four centuries of strife and misconception, at a vindicationof religious liberty. "Woe to thee, O country, that hast a child forking!" said, in accordance with the Bible, the Venetian Michael Suriano, ambassador to France at that time. Around that royal child, and seekingto have the mastery over France by being masters over him, werestruggling the three great parties at that time occupying the stage inthe name of religion. The Catholics rejected altogether the idea ofreligious liberty for the Protestants; the Protestants had absolute needof it, for it was their condition of existence; but they did not wish forit in the case of the Catholics, their adversaries. The third party(_tiers parti_), as we call it nowadays, wished to hold the balancecontinually wavering between the Catholics and the Protestants, concedingto the former and the latter, alternately, that measure of liberty whichwas indispensable for most imperfect maintenance of the public peace, andreconcilable with the sovereign power of the kingship. On suchconditions was the government of Charles IX. To establish its existence. 

The death of Francis II. Put an end to a grand project of the Guises, which we do not find expressly indicated elsewhere than in the _Memoires_of Michael de Castelnau, one of the best informed and most intelligenthistorians of the time. "Many Catholics, " says he, "were then of opinionthat, if the authority of the Duke of Guise had continued to be armedwith that of the king as it had been, the Protestants would have hadenough to do. For orders had been sent to all the principal lords of thekingdom, officers of the crown and knights of the order, to showthemselves in the said city of Orleans on Christmas-day at the opening ofthe states, for that they might be all made to sign the confession of theCatholic faith in presence of the king and the chapter of the order;together with all the members of the privy council, reporting-masters (ofpetitions), domestic officers of the king's household, and all thedeputies of the estates. The same confession was to be publishedthroughout all the said kingdom, in order to have it sworn by all thejudges, magistrates, and officers, and, finally, all private persons fromparish to parish. And in default of so doing, proceedings were to betaken by seizures, condemnations, executions, banishments, andconfiscations. And they who did repent themselves and abjured theirProtestant religion were to be absolved. " [_Memoires de Michel deCastelnau, _ book ii. Chap. Xii. P. 121, in the _Petitot_ collection. ]It is not to be supposed that, even if circumstances had remained as theywere under the reign of Francis II. , such a plan could have beensuccessful; but it is intelligible that the Guises had conceived such anidea: they were victorious; they had just procured the condemnation todeath of the most formidable amongst the Protestant princes, theiradversary Louis de Conde; they were threatening the life of his brotherthe King of Navarre; and the house of Bourbon seemed to be on the pointof disappearing beneath the blows of the ambitious, audacious, and by nomeans scrupulous house of Lorraine. Not even the prospect of FrancisII. 's death arrested the Guises in their work and their hopes; when theysaw that he was near his end, they made a proposal to the queen-mother tounite herself completely with them, leave the Prince of Conde toexecution, rid herself of the King of Navarre, and become regent of thekingdom during the minority of her son Charles, taking them, the Lorraineprinces and their party, for necessary partners in her government. ButCatherine de' Medici was more prudent, more judicious, and moreegotistical in her ambition than the Guises were in theirs; she was not, as they were, exclusively devoted to the Catholic party; it was powerthat she wanted, and she sought for it every day amongst the party or themixtures of parties in a condition to give it her. She considered theCatholic party to be the strongest, and it was hers; but she consideredthe Protestant party strong enough to be feared, and to give her acertain amount of security and satisfaction: a security necessary, moreover, if peace at home, and not civil war, were to be the habitualand general condition of France. Catherine was, finally, a woman, andvery skilful in the strifes of court and of government, whilst, on thefield of battle, the victories, though won in her name, would be those ofthe Guises more than her own. Without openly rejecting the proposalsthey made to her under their common apprehension of Francis II. 'sapproaching death, she avoided making any reply. She had, no doubt, already taken her precautions and her measures in advance; herconfidante, Jacqueline de Longwy, Duchess of Montpensier and a zealousProtestant, had brought to her rooms at night Antony de Bourbon, King ofNavarre, and Catherine had come to an agreement with him about thepartition of power between herself and him at the death of the king herson. She had written to the Constable de Montmorency, a rival of theGuises and their foe though a stanch Catholic, to make haste to Orleans, where his presence would be required. As soon as Chancellor del'Hospital became aware of the proposals which were being made by theGuises to the queen-mother, he flew to her and opposed them with all theenergy of his great and politic mind and sterling nature. Was she goingto deliver the Prince of Conde to the scaffold, the house of Bourbon toruin, France to civil war, and the independence of the crown and of thatroyal authority which she was on the point of wielding herself to thetyrannical domination of her rivals the Lorraine princes and of theirparty? Catherine listened with great satisfaction to this judicious andhonest language. When the crown passed to her son Charles she was freefrom any serious anxiety as to her own position and her influence in thegovernment. The new king, on announcing to the Parliament the death ofhis brother, wrote to them that "confiding in the virtues and prudence ofthe queen-mother, he had begged her to take in hand the administration ofthe kingdom, with the wise counsel and advice of the King of Navarre andthe notables and great personages of the late king's council. " A fewmonths afterwards the states-general, assembling first at Orleans andafterwards at Pontoise, ratified this declaration by recognizing theplacement of "the young King Charles IX. 's guardianship in the hands ofCatherine de' Medici, his mother, together with the principal directionof affairs, but without the title of regent. " The King of Navarre was toassist her in the capacity of lieutenant-general of the kingdom. Twenty-five members specially designated were to form the king's privycouncil. [_Histoire des Etats generaux, _ by M. Picot, t. Ii. P. 73. ]And in the privacy of her motherly correspondence Catherine wrote to theQueen of Spain, her daughter Elizabeth, wife of Philip II. , "Madame, mydear daughter, all I shall tell you is, not to be the least anxious, andto rest assured that I shall spare no pains to so conduct myself thatGod and everybody may have occasion to be satisfied with me. . . . You have seen the time when I was as happy as you are, not dreaming ofever having any greater trouble than that of not being loved as I shouldhave liked to be by the king your father. God took him from me, and isnot content with that; He has taken from me your brother, whom I lovedyou well know how much, and has left me with three young children, andin a kingdom where all is division, having therein not a single man inwhom I can trust, and who has not some particular object of his own. "

The queen-mother of France, who wrote to her daughter the Queen of Spainwith such firmness of tone and such independence of spirit, was, to usethe words of the Venetian ambassador John Michieli, who had lived at hercourt, "a woman of forty-three, of affable manners, great moderation, superior intelligence, and ability in conducting all sorts of affairs, especially affairs of state. As mother, she has the personal managementof the king; she allows no one else to sleep in his room; she is neveraway from him. As regent and head of the government, she holdseverything in her hands, public offices, benefices, graces, and the sealwhich bears the king's signature, and which is called the cachet(privy-seal or signet). In the council, she allows the others to speak;she replies to any one who needs it; she decides according to the adviceof the council, or according to what she may have made up her own mindto. She opens the letters addressed to the king by his ambassadors andby all the ministers. . . . She has great designs, and does notallow them to be easily penetrated. As for her way of living, she isvery fond of her ease and pleasure; she observes few rules; she eats anddrinks a great deal; she considers that she makes up for it by taking agreat deal of exercise a-foot and a-horseback; she goes a-hunting; andlast year she always joined the king in his stag-chases, through thewoods and thick forests, a dangerous sort of chase for anyone who is notan excellent rider. She has an olive complexion, and is already veryfat; accordingly the doctors have not a good opinion of her life. Shehas a dower of three hundred thousand francs a year, double that ofother queens-dowager. She was formerly always in money-difficulties andin debt; now, she not only keeps out of debt, but she spends and givesmore liberally than ever. " [_Relations des Ambassadeurs venztzens, _published by A. N. Tommaseo, t. I. Pp. 427-429. ]

As soon as the reign of Charles IX. And the queen-mother's governmentwere established, notice was sent to the Prince of Conde that he wasfree. He refused to stir from prison; he would wait, he said, until hisaccusers were confined there. He was told that it was the king's expressorder, and was what Francis II. On his death-bed had himself impressedupon the King of Navarre. Conde determined to set out for La Fere, aplace belonging to his brother Anthony de Bourbon, and there await freshorders from the king. In February, 1561, he left La Fare forFontainebleau. On his road to Paris his friends flocked to him and madehim a splendid escort. On approaching the king's palace Conde separatedhimself from his following, and advanced alone with two of his mostfaithful friends. All the lords of the court, the Duke of Guise amongstthem, went to meet him. On the 15th of March he was admitted to theprivy council. Chancellor de l'Hospital, on the prince's own demand, affirmed that no charge had been found against him. The king declaredhis innocence in a deed signed by all the members of the council. On the13th of June, in solemn session, the Parliament of Paris, sitting as acourt of peers, confirmed this declaration. Notwithstanding the Duke ofGuise's co-operation in all these acts, Conde desired something of a morepersonal kind on his part. 

[Illustration: Francis de Lorraine, Duke of Aumale and of Guise----302]

On the 24th of August, at St. Germain, in presence of the king, thequeen-mother, the princes, and the court, the Duke of Guise, in reply toa question from the king, protested "that he had not, and would neverhave desired to, put forward anything against the prince's honor, andthat he had been neither the author nor the instigator of hisimprisonment. " "Sir, " said Conde, "I consider wicked and contemptiblehim or them who caused it. " "So I think, sir, " answered Guise, "and itdoes not apply to me at all. " Whereupon they embraced, and a report wasdrawn up of the ceremony, which was called their reconciliation. Just asit was ending, Marshal Francis de Montmorency, eldest son of theconstable, and far more inclined than his father was towards the cause ofthe Reformers, arrived with a numerous troop of friends, whom he hadmustered to do honor to Conde. The court was a little excited at thisincident. The constable declared that, having the honor to be so closelyconnected with the princes of Bourbon, his son would have been to blameif he had acted differently. The aged warrior had himself negotiatedthis reconciliation; and when it was accomplished, and the Duke of Guisehad performed his part in it with so much complaisance, the constableconsidered himself to be quits with his former allies, and free tofollow his leaning towards the Catholic party. "The veteran, " says theDuke of Autnale, "did not pique himself on being a theologian; but hewas sincerely attached to the Catholic faith because it was the oldreligion and the king's; and he separated himself definitively fromthose religious and political innovators whom he had at first seemed tocountenance, and amongst whom he reckoned his nearest relatives. " Invain did his eldest son try to hold him back; a close union was formedbetween the Constable de Montmorency, the Duke of Guise, and Marshal deSaint-Andre, and it became the Catholic triumvirate against whichCatherine de' Medici had at one time to defend herself, and of which shehad at another to avail herself in order to carry out the policy ofsee-saw she had adopted as her chief means of government. 

Before we call to mind and estimate as they deserve the actions of thatgovernment, we must give a correct idea of the moral condition of thepeople governed, of their unbridled passions, and of the share ofresponsibility reverting to them in the crimes and shocking errors ofthat period. It is a mistake and an injustice, only too common, to layall the burden of such facts, and the odium justly due to them, upon thegreat actors almost exclusively whose name has remained attached to themin history; the people themselves have very often been the prime moversin them; they have very often preceded and urged on their masters in theblack deeds which have sullied their history; and on the masses as wellas on the leaders ought the just sentence of posterity to fall. Themoment we speak of the St. Bartholomew, it seems as if Charles IX. , Catherine de' Medici, and the Guises issued from their grave to receivethat sentence; and God forbid that we should wish to deliver them fromit; but it hits the nameless populace of their day as well as themselves, and the hands of the people, far more than the will of kings, began thetale of massacres for religion's sake. This is no vague and generalassertion; and, to show it, we shall only have to enumerate, with theirdates, the principal facts of which history has preserved the memory, whilst stigmatizing them, with good reason, as massacres or murders. Thegreater number, as was to be expected, are deeds done by Catholics, forthey were by far the more numerous and more frequently victorious; butProtestants also have sometimes deserved a place in this tragic category, and when we meet with them, we will assuredly not blot them out. 

We confine the enumeration to the reign of Charles IX. , and in it weplace only such massacres and murders as were not the results of anylegal proceeding. We say nothing of judicial sentences and executions, however outrageous and iniquitous they may have been. 

The first fact which presents itself is a singular one. Admiral deColigny's eldest brother, Odet de Chatillon, was a Catholic, Bishop ofBeauvais, and a cardinal; in 1550, he had gone to Rome and hadco-operated in the election of Pope Julius III. ; in 1554, he hadpublished some _Constitutions synodales_ (synodal regulations), to remedycertain abuses which had crept into his diocese, and, in 1561, heproposed to make in the celebration of the Lord's Supper somemodifications which smacked, it is said, of the innovations of Geneva. The populace of Beauvais were so enraged at this that they rose upagainst him, massacred a schoolmaster whom he tried to protect, and wouldhave massacred the bishop himself if troops sent from Paris had not cometo his assistance. 

In the same year, 1561, the Protestants had a custom of meeting at Paris, for their religious exercises, in a house called the Patriarch's house, very near the church of St. Medard. On the 27th of December, whilst theReformed minister was preaching, the Catholics had all the bells of St. Medard rung in full peal. The minister sent two of his congregation tobeg the incumbent to have the bell-ringing stopped for a short time. Themob threw themselves upon the two messengers: one was killed, and theother, after making a stout defence, returned badly wounded to thePatriarch's house, and fell dead at the preacher's feet. The provost oftradesmen was for having the bells stopped; the riot became violent; thehouse of the Reformers was stormed; and the provost's archers had greatdifficulty in putting a stop to the fight. More than a hundred persons, it is said, were killed or wounded. 

[Illustration: Massacre of Protestants---305]

In 1562, in the month of February, whilst the Guises were travelling inGermany, with the object of concluding, in the interests of policy, alliances with some German Lutheran princes, disturbances broke out atCahors, Amiens, Sens, and Tours, between the Protestants and theCatholics. Which of the two began them? It would be difficult todetermine. The passions that lead to insult, attack, defence, andvengeance were mutually felt and equally violent on both sides. Montlucwas sent to Guienne by the queen-mother to restore order there; butnearly everywhere he laid the blame on the Protestants. His Memoiresprove that he harried them without any form of justice. "At Sauveterre, "says he, "I caught five or six, all of whom I had hanged without expenseof paper or ink, and without giving them a hearing, for those gentry areregular Chrysostoms (_parlent d'or_). " "I was informed that at Girondethere were sixty or eighty Huguenots belonging to them of La Reole, whohad retreated thither; the which were all taken, and I had them hanged tothe pillars of the market-place without further ceremony. One hanged hasmore effect than a hundred slain. " When Montluc took Monsegur, "themassacre lasted for ten hours or more, " says he, "because search was madefor them in the houses; the dead were counted and found to be more thanseven hundred. " [_Memoires de Montluc, _ t. Ii. Pp. 442, 443-447. ]

Almost at the very time at which Montluc, who had been sent to Guienne torestore order there between the Catholics and the Protestants, wastreating the latter with this shocking severity, an incident, moreserious because of the rank of the persons concerned, took place atVassy, a small town in Champagne, near which the Duke of Guise passed onreturning from Germany. Hearing, as he went, the sound of bells, heasked what it meant. "It is the church of the Huguenots of Vassy, " wasthe answer. "Are there many of them?" asked the duke. He was told thatthere were, and that they were increasing more and more. "Then, " saysthe chronicler, "he began to mutter and to put himself in a white heat, gnawing his beard, as he was wont to do when he was enraged or had a mindto take vengeance. " Did he turn aside out of his way with his following, to pass right through Vassy, or did he confine himself to sending some ofhis people to bring him an account of what was happening there? When afact which was at the outset insignificant has become a great event, itis hardly possible to arrive at any certain knowledge of the truth as tothe small details of its origin. Whatever may have been the case in thefirst instance, a quarrel, and, before long, a struggle, began betweenthe preacher's congregation and the prince's following. Being informedof the matter whilst he was at table, the Duke of Guise rose up, went tothe spot, found the combatants very warmly at work, and himself receivedseveral blows from stones; and, when the fight was put a stop to, forty-nine persons had been killed in it, nearly all on the Protestantside; more than two hundred others, it is said, came out of it severelywounded; and, whether victors or vanquished, all were equally irritated. The Protestants complained vehemently; and Conde offered, in their name, fifty thousand men to resent this attack, but his brother, the King ofNavarre, on the contrary, received with a very bad grace the pleading ofTheodore de Beze. "It is true that the church of God should endureblows and not inflict them, " said De Beze, "but remember, I pray you, that it is an anvil which has used up a great many hammers. "

The massacre of Vassy, the name which has remained affixed to it inhistory, rapidly became contagious. From 1562 to 1572, in Languedoc, inProvence, in Dauphiny, in Poitou, in Orleanness, in Normandy even and inPicardy, at Toulouse, at Gaillac, at Frejus, at Troyes, at Sens, atOrleans, at Amiens, at Rouen, and in many other towns, spontaneous anddisorderly outbreaks between religiously opposed portions of the populacetook place suddenly, were repeated, and spread, sometimes with theconnivance of the local authorities, judicial or administrative, but moreoften through the mere brutal explosion of the people's passions. It isdistasteful to us to drag numerous examples from oblivion; but we willcite just two, faithful representations of those sad incidents, andattested by authentic documents. The little town of Gaillac was almostentirely Catholic; the Protestants, less numerous, had met the day afterPentecost, May 18, 1562, to celebrate the Lord's Supper. "Theinhabitants in the quarter of the Chateau de l'Orme, who are all artisansor vine-dressers, " says the chronicler, "rush to arms, hurry along withthem all the Catholics of the town, invest the place of assembly, andtake prisoners all who were present. After this capture, they separate:some remain in the meeting-house, on guard over the prisoners; the restgo into dwellings to work their will upon those of the religion who hadremained there. Then they take the prisoners, to the number of sixty oreighty, into a gallery of the Abbey of St. Michael, situated on a steeprock, at the base of which flows the River Tarn; and there, a fieldlaborer, named Cabral, having donned the robe and cape of the judge'sdeputy, whom he had slain with his own hand, pronounces judgment, andsentences all the prisoners to be thrown from the gallery into the river, telling them to go and eat fish, as they had not chosen to fast duringLent; which was done forthwith. Divers boatmen who were on the riverdespatched with their oars those who tried to save themselves byswimming. " [_Histoire generale du Languedoc, _ liv. Xxxviii. F. V. , p. 227. ] At Troyes, in Champagne, "during the early part of August, 1572, the majority of the Protestants of the town, who were returning fromEsleau-Mont, where they had a meeting-house and a pastor underauthorization from the king, were assailed in the neighborhood ofCroncels by the excited populace. A certain number of individuals, accompanying a mother carrying a child which had just received baptism, were pursued with showers of stones; several were wounded, and the childwas killed in its mother's arms. " This affair did not give rise to anyprosecution. "It is no use to think about it any longer, " said thedelegate of the bailiff and of the mayor of Troyes, in a letter fromParis on the 27th of August. The St. Bartholomew had just taken placeon the 24th of August. [_Histoire de la Ville de Troyes, _ by H. Boutiot, t. Iii. P. 25. ]

Where they happened to be the stronger, and where they had eithervengeance to satisfy or measures of security to take, the Protestantswere not more patient or more humane than the Catholics. At Nimes, in1567, they projected and carried out, in the town and the neighboringcountry, a massacre in which a hundred and ninety-two Catholics perished;and several churches and religious houses were damaged or completelydestroyed. This massacre, perpetrated on St. Michael's day, was called_the Michaelade_. The barbarities committed against the Catholics inDauphiny and in Provence by Francis de Beaumont, Baron of Adrets, haveremained as historical as the massacre of Vassy, and he justified them onthe same grounds as Montluc had given for his in Guienne. "Nobodycommits cruelty in repaying it, " said he; "the first are calledcruelties, the second justice. The only way to stop the enemy'sbarbarities is to meet them with retaliation. " Though experience oughtto have shown them their mistake, both Adrets and Montluc persisted init. A case, however, is mentioned in which Adrets was constrained to bemerciful. After the capture of Montbrison, he had sentenced all theprisoners to throw themselves down, with their hands tied behind them, from the top of the citadel; one of them made two attempts, and thoughtbetter of it; "Come, twice is enough to take your soundings, " shouted thebaron, who was looking on. "I'll give you four times to do it in, "rejoined the soldier. And this good saying saved his life. 

The weak and undecided government of Catherine de' Medici tried severaltimes, but in vain, to prevent or repress these savage explosions ofpassion and strife amongst the people; the sterling moderation ofChancellor de l'Hospital was scarcely more successful than thehypocritical and double-faced attentions paid by Catherine de' Medici toboth the Catholic and the Protestant leaders; the great maladies and thegreat errors of nations require remedies more heroic than the adroitnessof a woman, the wisdom of a functionary, or the hopes of a philosopher. It was formal and open civil war between the two communions and the twoparties that, with honest and patriotic desire, L'Hospital and evenCatherine were anxious to avoid. From 1561 to 1572 there were in Franceeighteen or twenty massacres of Protestants, four or five of Catholics, and thirty or forty single murders sufficiently important to have beenkept in remembrance by history; and during that space of time formalcivil war, religious and partisan, broke out, stopped and recommenced infour campaigns, signalized, each of them, by great battles, and fourtimes terminated by impotent or deceptive treaties of peace which, on the24th of August, 1572, ended, for their sole result, in the greatestmassacre of French history, the St. Bartholomew. 

The first religious war, under Charles IX. , appeared on the point ofbreaking out in April, 1561, some days after that the Duke of Guise, returning from the massacre of Vassy, had entered Paris, on the 16th ofMarch, in triumph. The queen-mother, in dismay, carried off the king toMelun at first, and then to Fontainebleau, whilst the Prince of Conde, having retired to Meaux, summoned to his side his relatives, his friends, and all the leaders of the Reformers, and wrote to Coligny, "that Caesarhad not only crossed the Rubicon, but was already at Rome, and that hisbanners were beginning to wave all over the neighboring country. " Forsome days Catherine and L'Hospital tried to remain out of Paris with theyoung king, whom Guise, the Constable de Montmorency, and the King ofNavarre, the former being members and the latter an ally of thetriumvirate, went to demand back from them. They were obliged to submitto the pressure brought to bear upon them. The constable was the firstto enter Paris, and went, on the 2d of April, and burned down the twoplaces of worship which, by virtue of the decree of January 17, 1561, hadbeen granted to the Protestants. Next day the King of Navarre and theDuke of Guise, in their turn, entered the city in company with CharlesIX. And Catherine. A council was assembled at the Louvre to deliberateas to the declaration of war, which was deferred. Whilst the king was onhis way back to Paris, Conde hurried off to take up his quarters atOrleans, whither Coligny went promptly to join him. They signed, withthe gentlemen who came to them from all parts, a compact of association"for the honor of God, for the liberty of the king, his brothers and thequeen-mother, and for the maintenance of decrees;" and Conde, in writingto the Protestant princes of Germany to explain to them his conduct, tookthe title of protector of the house and crown of France. Negotiationsstill went on for nearly three months. The chiefs of the two partiesattempted to offer one another generous and pacific solutions; they evenhad two interviews; but Catherine was induced by the Catholic triumvirateto expressly declare that she could not allow in France more than onesingle form of worship. Conde and his friends said that they could notlay down their arms until the triumvirate was overthrown, and theexecution of decrees granting them liberty of worship, in certain placesand to a certain extent, had been secured to them. Neither party likedto acknowledge itself beaten in this way without having struck a blow. And in the early part of July, 1562, the first religious war began. 

We do not intend to dwell upon any but its leading facts, facts which atthe moment when they were accomplished might have been regarded asdecisive in respect of the future. In this campaign there were two; thebattle of Dreux, on the 19th of December, 1562; and the murder of theDuke of Guise by Poltrot, on the 18th of February, 1563. 

The two armies met in the plain of Dreux with pretty nearly equal forces, the royal army being superior in artillery and the Protestant in cavalry. When they had arrived in front of one another, the triumvirs sent to askthe queen-mother's authority to give battle. "I am astounded, " saidCatherine to her favorite adviser, Michael de Castelnau, "that theconstable, the Duke of Guise, and Saint-Andre, being good, prudent, andexperienced captains, should send to ask counsel of a woman and a child, both full of sorrow at seeing things in such extremity as to be reducedto the risk of a battle between fellow-countrymen. " "Hereupon, " saysCastelnau, "in came the king's nurse, who was a Huguenot, and the queen, at the same time that she took me to see the king, who was still in bed, said to me with great agitation and jeeringly, 'We had better ask theking's nurse whether to give battle or not; what think you?' Then thenurse, as she followed the queen into the king's chamber according to hercustom, said several times that, as the Huguenots would not listen toreason, she would say, 'Give battle. ' Whereupon there was, at the privycouncil, much discourse about the good and the evil that might resulttherefrom; but the resolution arrived at was, that they who had arms intheir hands ought not to ask advice or orders from the court; and I wasdespatched on the spot to tell them from the king and the queen, that, asgood and prudent captains, they were to do what they considered mostproper. " Next day, at ten in the morning, the armies met. "Thenevery one, " says La Noue, one of the bravest amongst the Reformers'leaders, "steadied himself, reflecting that the men he saw coming towardshim were not Spaniards, or English, or Italians, but Frenchmen, that is, the bravest of the brave, amongst whom there were some who were his owncomrades, relatives, and friends, and that within an hour they would haveto be killing one another, which created some sort of horror of the fact, without, however, diminution of courage. . . . One thing worthy ofbeing noted, " continues La Noue, "is the long duration of the fight, itbeing generally seen in battles that all is lost or won within a singlehour, whereas this began about one P. M. , and there was no issue untilafter five. Of a surety, there was marvellous animosity on both sides, whereof sufficient testimony is to be found in the number of dead, whichexceeded seven thousand, as many persons say; the majority whereof werekilled in the fight rather than the pursuit. . . . Another incidentwas the capture of the two chiefs of the armies, a thing which rarelyhappens, because generally they do not fight until the last moment and inextremity; and often a battle is as good as won before they come to thispoint. But in this case they did not put it off so long, for, at thevery first, each was minded to set his men an example of not sparingthemselves. The Constable de Montmorency was the first taken, andseriously wounded, having always received wounds in seven battles atwhich he was present, which shows the boldness that was in him. ThePrince of Conde was taken at the end, also wounded. As both of them hadgood seconds, it made them the less fearful of danger to their ownpersons, for the constable had M. De Guise, and the Prince of CondeAdmiral de Coligny, who showed equally well to the front in the melley. . . . Finally I wish to bring forward another matter, which will besupernumerary because it happened after the battle; and that is, thecourteous and honorable behavior of the Duke of Guise victorious towardsthe Prince of Conde a prisoner; which most men, on one side as well as onthe other, did not at all think he would have been disposed to exhibit, for it is well known how hateful, in civil wars, are the chiefs ofparties, and what imputations are made upon them. Nevertheless herequite the contrary happened: for, when the prince was brought before theduke, the latter spoke to him respectfully and with great gentleness oflanguage, wherein he could not pretend that there was any desire to piquehim or blame him. And whilst the prince staid in the camp, the dukeoften dined with him. And forasmuch as on this day of the battle therewere but few beds arrived, for the baggage had been half-plundered anddispersed, the Duke of Guise offered his own bed to the Prince of Conde, which the prince would accept in respect of the half only. And so thesetwo great princes, who were like mortal foes, found themselves in onebed, one triumphant and the other captive, taking their repast together. "[_Memoires de Francois de La Noue, _ in the _Petitot_ collection; 1stseries, t. Xxxiv. Pp. 172-178. ]

The results of the battle of Dreux were serious, and still more seriousfrom the fate of the chiefs than from the number of the dead. Thecommanders of the two armies, the Constable de Montmorency, and thePrince of Conde, were wounded and prisoners. One of the triumvirs, Marshal de Saint-Andre, had been killed in action. The Catholics'wavering ally, Anthony de Bourbon, King of Navarre, had died before thebattle of a wound which he had received at the siege of Rouen; and on hisdeath-bed had resumed his Protestant bearing, saying that, if God grantedhim grace to get well, he would have nothing but the gospel preachedthroughout the realm. The two staffs (_etats-majors_), as we should nowsay, were disorganized: in one, the Duke of Guise alone remained unhurtand at liberty; in the other, Coligny, in Conde's absence, was electedgeneral-in-chief of the Protestants. At Paris, for a while, it wasbelieved that the battle was lost. "If it had been, " says Montluc, "I think that it was all over with France, for the state would havechanged, and so would the religion; a young king can be made to do asyou please;" Catherine de' Medici showed a facile resignation to such achange. "Very well, " she had said, "then we will pray to God in French. "When the victory became known there was general enthusiasm for the Duke. Of Guise; but he took only a very modest advantage of it, being moreanxious to have his comrades' merits appreciated than his own. At Blois, as he handed the queen-mother her table-napkin at dinner-time, he askedher if he might have an audience of her after the repast. "Jesu! my dearcousin, " said Catherine, "whatever are you saying?" "I say it, madame, because I would fain show you in the presence of everybody what I havedone, since my departure from Paris, with your army which you gave incharge to me together with the constable, and also present to you all thegood captains and servants of the king and of yourself who have servedyou faithfully, as well your own subjects as also foreigners, andhorsemen and foot;" whereupon he discoursed about the battle of Dreux, "and painted it so well and so to the life, " says Brantome, "that youwould have said that they were still about it, whereat the queen feltvery great pleasure. . . . Every one listened very attentively, without the least noise in the world; and he spoke so well that there wasnone who was not charmed, for the prince was the best of speakers andeloquent, not with a forced and overladen eloquence, but simple andsoldierly, with a grace of his own to match; so much so that thequeen-mother said that she had never seen him in such good form. "[Brantome, _Tries des Brands Capitaines, _ t. Ii. Pp. 247-250. ] The goodform, however, was not enough to prevent the ill-humor and jealousy feltby the queen-mother and her youthful son the king at such a great successwhich made Guise so great a personage. After the victory of Dreux he hadwritten to the king to express his wish to see conferred upon a candidateof his own choosing the marshal's baton left vacant by the death ofSaint-Andre. "See now, " said Charles IX. To his mother and some personswho were by, "if the Duke of Guise does not act the king well; you wouldreally say that the army was his, and that victory came from his hand, making no mention of God, who, by His great goodness, hath given it us. He thrusts the bargain into my fist (dictates to me). Yet must I givehim a civil answer to satisfy him; for I do not want to make trouble inmy kingdom, and irritate a captain to whom my late father and I havegiven so much credit and authority. " The king almost apologized forhaving already disposed of the baton in favor of the Marquis deVieilleville, and he sent the Duke of Guise the collar of the order fortwo of his minions, and at the same time the commission oflieutenant-general of the kingdom and commander-in-chief of the army forhimself. Guise thanked him, pretending to be satisfied: the king smiledas he read his letter; and "_Non ti fidar, e non sarai gabbato_" (Don'ttrust, and you'll not be duped), he said in the words of the Italianproverb. 

He had not to disquiet himself for long about this rival. On the 18th ofFebruary, 1563, the Duke of Guise was vigorously pushing forward thesiege of Orleans, the stronghold of the Protestants, stoutly defended byColigny. He was apprised that his wife, the Duchess Anne d'Este, hadjust arrived at a castle near the camp with the intention of using herinfluence over her husband in order to spare Orleans from the terribleconsequences of being taken by assault. He mounted his horse to go andjoin her, and he was chatting to his aide-de-camp Rostaing about themeans of bringing about a pacification, when, on arriving at a cross-roadwhere several ways met, he felt himself struck in the right shoulder, almost under the arm, by a pistol-shot fired from behind a hedge at adistance of six or seven paces. A white plume upon his head had made himconspicuous, and as, for so short a ride, he had left off his cuirass, three balls had passed through him from side to side. "That shot hasbeen in keeping for me a long while, " said he: "I deserve it for nothaving taken precautions. " He fell upon his horse's neck, as he vainlytried to draw his sword from the scabbard; his arm refused its office. 

[Illustration: The Duke of Guise waylaid---315]

When he had been removed to the castle, where the duchess, in tears, received him, "I am vexed at it, " said he, "for the honor of France;" andto his son Henry, Prince of Joinville, a boy of thirteen, he added, kissing him, "God grant you grace, my son, to become a good man. " Helanguished for six days, amidst useless attentions paid him by hissurgeons, giving Catherine de' Medici, who came daily to see him, themost pacific counsels, and taking of the duchess his wife the most tenderfarewells mingled with the most straightforward and honest avowals. "Ido not mean to deny, " he said to her, "that the counsels and frailties ofyouth have led me sometimes into something at which you had a right to beoffended; I pray you to be pleased to excuse me and forgive me. " Hisbrother, the Cardinal de Guise, Bishop of Metz, which the duke had sogloriously defended against Charles V. , warned him that it was time toprepare himself for death by receiving the sacraments of the church. "Ah! my dear brother, " said the duke to him, "I have loved you greatly intimes past, but I love you now still more than ever, for you are doing mea truly brotherly turn. " On the 24th of February they still offered himaliment to sustain his rapidly increasing weakness but "Away, away, " saidhe; "I have taken the manna from heaven, whereby I feel myself socomforted that it seems to me as if I were already in paradise. Thisbody has no further need of nourishment;" and so he expired on the 24thof February, 1563, an object, at his death, of the most profound regretamongst his army and his party, as well as his family, after having beenduring his life the object of their lively admiration. "I do notforget, " says his contemporary Stephen Pasquier in reference to him, "that it was no small luck for him to die at this period, when he wasbeyond reach of the breeze, and when shifting Fortune had not yet playedhim any of those turns whereby she is so cunning in lowering the horn ofthe bravest. "

It is a duty to faithfully depict this pious and guileless death of agreat man, at the close of a vigorous and a glorious life, made up ofgood and evil, without the evil's having choked the good. This powerfuland consolatory intermixture of qualities is the characteristic of theeminent men of the sixteenth century, Catholics or Protestants, soldiersor civilians; and it is a spectacle wholesome to be offered in times whendoubt and moral enfeeblement are the common malady even of sound mindsand of honest men. 

The murderer of Duke Francis of Guise was a petty nobleman of Angoumois, John Poltrot, Lord of Mere, a fiery Catholic in his youth, who afterwardsbecame an equally fiery Protestant, and was engaged with his relative LaRenaudie in the conspiracy against the Guises. He had been employedconstantly from that time, as a spy it is said, by the chiefs of theReformers--a vocation for which, it would seem, he was but littleadapted, for the indiscretion of his language must have continuallyrevealed his true sentiments. When he heard, in 1562, of the death ofAnthony de Bourbon, King of Navarre, "That, " said he, "is not what willput an end to the war; what is wanted is the dog with the big collar. ""Whom do you mean?" asked somebody. "The great Guisard; and here's thearm that will do the trick. " "He used to show, " says D'Aubigne, "bulletscast to slay the Guisard, and thereby rendered himself ridiculous. "After the battle of Dreux he was bearer of a message from the Lord ofSoubise to Admiral de Coligny, to whom he gave an account of thesituation of the Reformers in Dauphiny and in Lyonness. His report nodoubt interested the admiral, who gave him twenty crowns to go and playspy in the camp of the Duke of Guise, and, some days later, a hundredcrowns to buy a horse. It was thus that Poltrot was put in a position toexecute the design he had been so fond of proclaiming before he had anycommunication with Coligny. As soon as, on the 18th of February, 1563, in the outskirts of Orleans, he had, to use his own expression, done histrick, he fled full gallop, so as not to bear the responsibility of it;but, whether it were that he was troubled in his mind, or that he was illacquainted with the region, he wandered round and round the place wherehe had shot the Duke of Guise, and was arrested on the 20th of Februaryby men sent in search of him. Being forthwith brought before the privycouncil, in the presence of the queen-mother, and put to the torture, hesaid that Admiral de Coligny, Theodore de Beze, La Rochefoucauld, Soubise, and other Huguenot chiefs had incited him to murder the Duke ofGuise, persecutor of the faithful, "as a meritorious deed in the eyes ofGod and men. " Coligny repudiated this allegation point blank. Shrinkingfrom the very appearance of hypocrisy, he abstained from any regret atthe death of the Duke of Guise. "The greatest blessing, " said he, "whichcould come to this realm and to the church of God, especially to myselfand all my house;" and he referred to conversations he had held with theCardinal of Lorraine and the Duchess of Guise, and to a notice which hehad sent, a few days previously, to the Duke of Guise himself, "to takecare, for there was somebody under a bond to kill him. " Lastly, hedemanded that, to set in a clear light "his integrity, innocence, andgood repute, " Poltrot should be kept, until peace was made, in strictconfinement, so that the admiral himself and the murderer might beconfronted. It was not thought to be obligatory or possible to complywith this desire; amongst the public there was a passionate outcry forprompt chastisement. Poltrot, removed to Paris, put to the torture andquestioned by the commissioners of Parliament, at one time confirmed andat another disavowed his original assertions. Coligny, he said, had notsuggested the project to him, but had cognizance of it, and had notattempted to deter him. The decree sentenced Poltrot to the punishmentof regicides. He underwent it on the 18th of March, 1563, in the Placede Greve, preserving to the very end that fierce energy of hatred andvengeance which had prompted his deed. He was heard saying to himself inthe midst of his torments, and as if to comfort himself, "For all that, he is dead and gone, --the persecutor of the faithful, --and he will notcome back again. " The angry populace insulted him with yells; Poltrotadded, "If the persecution does not cease, vengeance will fall upon thiscity, and the avengers are already at hand. "

Catherine de' Medici, well pleased, perhaps, that there was now aquestion personally embarrassing for the admiral and as yet in abeyance, had her mind entirely occupied apparently with the additional weaknessand difficulty resulting to the position of the crown and the Catholicparty from the death of the Duke of Guise; she considered peacenecessary; and, for reasons of a different nature, Chancellor del'Hospital was of the same opinion: he drew attention to "scruples ofconscience, the perils of foreign influence, and the impossibility ofcuring by an application of brute force a malady concealed in the verybowels and brains of the people. " Negotiations were entered into withthe two captive generals, the Prince of Conde and the Constable deMontmorency; they assented to that policy; and, on the 19th of March, peace was concluded at Amboise in the form of an edict which granted tothe Protestants the concessions recognized as indispensable by the crownitself, and regulated the relations of the two creeds, pending "theremedy of time, the decisions of a holy council, and the king'smajority. " Liberty of conscience and the practice of the religion"called Reformed" were recognized "for all barons and lordshigh-justiciary, in their houses, with their families and dependants;for nobles having fiefs without vassals and living on the king's lands, but for them and their families personally. " The burgesses were treatedless favorably; the Reformed worship was maintained in the towns inwhich it had been practised up to the 7th of March in the current year;but, beyond that and noblemen's mansions, this worship might not becelebrated save in the faubourgs of one single town in every bailiwickor seneschalty. Paris and its district were to remain exempt from anyexercise of the said "Reformed religion. "

During the negotiations and as to the very basis of the edict of March19, 1563, the Protestants were greatly divided; the soldiers and thepoliticians, with Conde at their head, desired peace, and thought thatthe concessions made by the Catholics ought to be accepted. The majorityof the Reformed pastors and theologians cried out against theinsufficiency of the concessions, and were astonished that there shouldbe so much hurry to make peace when the Catholics had just lost theirmost formidable captain. Coligny, moderate in his principles, but alwaysfaithful to his church when she made her voice heard, showeddissatisfaction at the selfishness of the nobles. "To confine thereligion to one town in every bailiwick, " he said, "is to ruin morechurches by a stroke of the pen than our enemies could have pulled downin ten years; the nobles ought to have recollected that example had beenset by the towns to them, and by the poor to the rich. " Calvin, in hiscorrespondence with the Reformed churches of France, severely handledConde on this occasion. At the moment when peace was made, the pacificwere in the right; the death of the Duke of Guise had not prevented thebattle of Dreux from being a defeat for the Reformers; and, when war hadto be supported for long, it was especially the provincial nobles and thepeople on their estates who bore the burden of it. But when the edict ofAmboise had put an end to the first religious war, when the question wasno longer as to who won or lost battles, but whether the conditions ofthat peace to which the Catholics had sworn were loyally observed, andwhether their concessions were effective in insuring the modest amount ofliberty and security promised to the Protestants, the question changedfront, and it was not long before facts put the malcontents in the right. Between 1563 and 1567 murders of distinguished Protestants increasedstrangely, and excited amongst their families anxiety accompanied by athirst for vengeance. The Guises and their party, on their side, persisted in their outcries for proceedings against the instigators, known or presumed, of the murder of Duke Francis. It was plainly againstAdmiral de Coligny that these cries were directed; and he met them by asecond declaration, very frank as a denial of the deed which it wasintended to impute to him, but more hostile than ever to the Guises andtheir party. "The late duke, " said he, "was of the whole army the man Ihad most looked out for on the day of the last battle; if I could havebrought a gun to bear upon him to kill him, I would have done it; I wouldhave ordered ten thousand arquebusiers, had so many been under mycommand, to single him out amongst all the others, whether in the field, or from over a wall, or from behind a hedge. In short, I would not havespared any of the means permitted by the laws of war in time of hostilityto get rid of so great an enemy as he was for me and for so many othergood subjects of the king. "

After three years of such deadly animosity between the two parties andthe two houses, the king and the queen-mother could find no other wayof stopping an explosion than to call the matter on before the privycouncil, and cause to be there drawn up, on the 29th of January, 1566, a solemn decree, "declaring the admiral's innocence on his ownaffirmation, given in the presence of the king and the council as beforeGod himself, that he had not had anything to do with or approved of thesaid homicide. Silence for all time to come was consequently imposedupon the attorney-general and everybody else; inhibition and prohibitionwere issued against the continuance of any investigation or prosecution. The king took the parties under his safeguard, and enjoined upon themthat they should live amicably in obedience to him. " By virtue of thisinjunction, the Guises, the Colignies, and the Montmorencies ended byembracing, the first-named accommodating themselves with a pretty goodgrace to this demonstration: "but God knows what embraces!" [Words usedin La Harenga, a satire of the day in burlesque verse upon the Cardinalof Lorraine. ] Six years later the St. Bartholomew brought the truesentiments out into broad daylight. 

At the same time that the war was proceeding amongst the provinces withthis passionate doggedness, royal decrees were alternately confirming andsuppressing or weakening the securities for liberty and safety which thedecree of Amboise, on the 19th of March, 1563, had given to theProtestants by way of re-establishing peace. It was a series ofcontradictory measures which were sufficient to show the party-strifestill raging in the heart of the government. On the 14th of June, 1563, Protestants were forbidden to work, with shops open, on the days ofCatholic festivals. On the 14th of December, 1563, it was proclaimedthat Protestants might not gather alms for the poor of their religion, unless in places where that religion was practised, and nowhere else. On the 24th of June, 1564, a proclamation from the king interdicted theexercise of the Reformed religion within the precincts of any royalresidence. On the 4th of August, 1564, the Reformed churches wereforbidden to hold synods and make collections of money, and theirministers to quit their places of residence and to open schools. On the12th of November, 1567, a king's ordinance interdicted the conferring ofjudiciary offices on non-Catholics. In vain did Conde and Coligny cryout loudly against these violations of the peace of Amboise; in vain, onthe 16th of August, 1563, at the moment of proclaiming the king'smajority, was an edict issued giving full and entire confirmation to theedict of the 19th of March preceding, with the addition of prescriptionsfavorable to the royal authority, as well as, at the same time, to themaintenance of the public peace; scarcely any portion of theseprescriptions was observed; the credit of Chancellor de l'Hospital wasclearly very much on the decline; and, whilst the legal government wasthus falling to pieces or languishing away, Gaspard de Tavannes, a provedsoldier and royalist, who, however, was not yet marshal of France, wasbeginning to organize, under the name of Brotherhood of the Holy Spirit, a secret society intended to renew the civil war "if it happened thatoccasion should offer for repressing and chastising them of the religioncalled Reformed. " It was the League in its cradle. At the same time, the king had orders given for a speedy levy of six thousand Swiss, andan army-corps was being formed on the frontiers of Champagne. Thequeen-mother neglected no pains, no caresses, to hide from Conde the truemoving cause at the bottom of all these measures; and as "he was, " saysthe historian Davila, "by nature very ready to receive all sorts ofimpressions, " he easily suffered himself to be lulled to sleep. One day, however, in June, 1567, he thought it about time to claim the fulfilmentof a promise that had been made him at the time of the peace ofAmboise of a post which would give him the rank and authority oflieutenant-general of the kingdom, as his late brother, the King ofNavarre, had been; and he asked for the sword of constable whichMontmorency, in consequence of his great age, seemed disposed to resignto the king. Catherine avoided giving any answer; but her favorite son, Henry, Duke of Anjou, who was as yet only sixteen, repudiated this ideawith so much haughtiness that Conde felt called upon to ask someexplanations; there was no longer any question of war with Spain or ofan army to be got together. "What, pray, will you do, " he asked, "withthe Swiss you are raising?" The answer was, "We shall find goodemployment for them. "

It is the failing of a hypocritical and lying policy, however able, that, if it do not succeed promptly, a moment arrives when it becomestransparent and lets in daylight. Even Conde could not delude himselfany longer; the preparations were for war against the Reformers. Hequitted the court to take his stand again with his own party. Coligny, D'Andelot, La Rochefoucauld, La Noue, and all the accredited leadersamongst the Protestants, whom his behavior, too full of confidence or ofcomplaisance towards the court, had shocked or disquieted, went andjoined him. In September, 1567, the second religious war broke out. 

It was short, and not decisive for either party. At the outset of thecampaign, success was with the Protestants; forty towns, Orleans, Montereau, Lagny, Montauban, Castres, Montpellier, Uzes, &c. , openedtheir gates to them or fell into their hands. 

They were within an ace of surprising the king at Monceaux, and he neverforgot, says Montluc, that "the Protestants had made him do the stretchfrom Meaux to Paris at something more than a walk. " It was around Paristhat Conde concentrated all the efforts of the campaign. He had postedhimself at St. Denis with a small army of four thousand foot and twothousand horse. The Constable de Montmorency commanded the royal army, having a strength of sixteen thousand foot and three thousand horse. Attempts were made to open negotiations; but the constable broke them offbrusquely, roaring out that the king would never tolerate two religions. On the 10th of November, 1567, the battle began at St. Denis, and wasfought with alternations of partial success and reverse, which spread joyand sadness through the two hosts in turn; but in resisting a charge ofcavalry, led to victory by Conde, the constable fell with and under hishorse; a Scot called out to him to surrender; for sole response, the agedwarrior, "abandoned by his men, but not by his manhood, " says D'Aubigne, smashed the Scot's jaw with the pommel of his broken sword; and at thesame moment he fell mortally wounded by a shot through the body. Hisdeath left the victory uncertain and the royal army disorganized. Thecampaign lasted still four months, thanks to the energetic perseveranceof Coligny and the inexhaustible spirits of Conde, both of whom excelledin the art of keeping up the courage of their men. "Where are you takingus now?" asked an ill-tempered officer one day. "To meet our Germanallies, " said Conde. "And suppose we don't find them?" "Then we willbreathe on our fingers, for it is mighty cold. " They did at last, atPont-a-Mousson, meet the German re-enforcements, which were being broughtup by Prince John Casimir, son of the elector-palatine, and which madeConde's army strong enough for him to continue the war in earnest. Butthese new comers declared that they would not march any farther unlessthey were paid the hundred thousand crowns due to them. Conde had buttwo thousand. "Thereupon, " says La Noue, "was there nothing for it butto make a virtue of necessity; and he as well as the admiral employed alltheir art, influence, and eloquence to persuade every man to divesthimself of such means as he possessed for to furnish this contribution, which was so necessary. They themselves were the first to set anexample, giving up their own silver plate. . . . Half from love andhalf from fear, this liberality was so general, that, down to the verysoldiers' varlets, every one gave; so that at last it was considered adisgrace to have contributed little. When the whole was collected, itwas found to amount, in what was coined as well as in plate and goldchains, to more than eighty thousand livres, which came in so timely, that without it there would have been a difficulty in satisfying thereiters. . . . Was it not a thing worthy of astonishment to see anarmy, itself unpaid, despoiling itself of the little means it had ofrelieving its own necessities and sparing that little for theaccommodation of others, who, peradventure, scarcely gave them a thankeefor it?" [_Memoires de La Noue, in the Petitot collection, _ 1st Series, t. Xxxiv. P. 207. ]

So much generosity and devotion, amongst the humblest as well as the mostexalted ranks of the army, deserved not to be useless: but it turned outquite differently. Conde and Coligny led back to Paris their new army, which, it is said, was from eighteen to twenty thousand strong, andseemed to be in a condition either to take Paris itself, or to force theroyal army to enter the field and accept a decisive battle. To bringthat about, Conde thought the best thing was to besiege Chartres, "thekey to the granary of Paris, " as it was called, and "a big thorn, "according to La Noue, "to run into the foot of the Parisians. " ButCatherine de' Medici had quietly entered once more into negotiations withsome of the Protestant chiefs, even with Conde himself. Charles IX. Published an edict in which he distinguished between heretics and rebels, and assured of his protection all Huguenots who should lay down arms. Chartres seemed to be on the point of capitulating, when news came thatpeace had just been signed at Longjumeau, on the 23d of March. The kingput again in force the edict of Amboise of 1563, suppressing all therestrictions which had been tacked on to it successively. The Prince ofConde and his adherents were reinstated in all their possessions, offices, and honors; and Conde was "held and reputed good relative, faithful subject, and servant of the king. " The Reformers had todisband, restore the new places they had occupied, and send away theirGerman allies, to whom the king undertook to advance the hundred thousandgold crowns which were due to them. He further promised, by a secretarticle, that he too would at a later date dismiss his foreign troops anda portion of the French. 

This news caused very various impressions amongst the Protestant camp andpeople. The majority of the men of family engaged in the war, who mostfrequently had to bear the expense of it, desired peace. The personaladvantages accruing to Conde himself--made it very acceptable to him. But the ardent Reformers, with Coligny at their head, complained bitterlyof others being lured away by fine words and exceptional favors, and notprosecuting the war when, to maintain it, there was so good an army andthe chances were so favorable. A serious dispute took place between thepacific negotiators and the malcontents. Chancellor de l'Hospital wrote, in favor of peace, a discourse on the pacific settlement of the troublesof the year 1567, containing the necessary causes and reasons of thetreaty, together with the means of reconciling the two parties to oneanother, and keeping them in perpetual concord; composed by a highpersonage, true subject, and faithful servant of the French crown. But, if the chancellor's reasons were sound, the hopes he hung upon them wereextravagant; the parties were at that pitch of passion at which reasoningis in vain against impressions, and promises are powerless againstsuspicions. Concluded "through the vehemence of the desire to get homeagain, " as La Noue says, the peace of Longjumeau was none the less knownas the little peace, the patched-up peace, the lame and rickety peace;and neither they who wished for it nor they who spurned it prophesied itslong continuance. 

Scarcely six months having elapsed, in August, 1568, the third religiouswar broke out. The written guarantees given in the treaty of Longjumeaufor security and liberty on behalf of the Protestants were misinterpretedor violated. Massacres and murders of Protestants became more numerous, and were committed with more impunity than ever: in 1568 and 1569, atAmiens, at Auxerre, at Orleans, at Rouen, at Bourges, at Troyes, and atBlois, Protestants, at one time to the number of one hundred and forty orone hundred and twenty, or fifty-three, or forty, and at another singly, with just their wives and children, were massacred, burned, and hunted bythe excited populace, without any intervention on the part of themagistrates to protect them or to punish their murderers. Thecontemporary Protestant chroniclers set down at ten thousand the numberof victims who perished in the course of these six months, which werecalled a time of peace: we may, with De Thou, believe this estimate to beexaggerated; but, without doubt, the peace of Longjumeau was a lie, evenbefore the war began again. 

During this interval Conde was living in Burgundy, at Noyers, a littlefortress he possessed through his wife, Frances of Orleans, and Colignywas living not far from Noyers, at Tanlay, which belonged to his brotherD'Andelot. They soon discovered, both of them, not only what their partyhad to suffer, but what measures were in preparation against themselves. Agents went and sounded the depth of the moats of Noyers, so as to reportupon the means of taking the place. The queen-mother had orders given toGaspard de Tavannes to surround the Prince of Conde at Noyers. "Thequeen is counselled by passion rather than by reason, " answered the oldwarrior; "I am not the sort of man to succeed in this ill-plannedenterprise of distaff and pen; if her Majesty will be pleased to declareopen war, I will show how I understand my duty. " Shocked at thedishonorable commands given him, Tavannes resolved to indirectly raiseConde's apprehensions, in order to get him out of Burgundy, of which he, Tavannes, held the governorship; and he sent close past the walls ofNoyers bearers of letters containing these words: "The stag is in thetoils; the hunt is ready. " Conde had the bearers arrested, understoodthe warning, and communicated it to Coligny, who went and joined him atNoyers, and they decided, both of them, upon quitting Burgundy withoutdelay, to go and seek over the Loire at La Rochelle, which they knew tobe devoted to their cause, a sure asylum and a place suitable for theirpurposes as a centre of warlike operations. They set out together on the24th of August, 1568. Conde took with him his wife and his fourchildren, two of tender age. Coligny followed him in deep mourning; hehad just lost his wife, Charlotte de Laval, that worthy mate of his, who, six years previously, in a grievous crisis for his soul as well as hiscause, had given him such energetic counsels: she had left him one youngdaughter and three little children, the two youngest still in the nurse'sarms. His sister-in-law, Anne do Salm, wife of his brother D'Andelot, was also there with a child of two years, whilst her husband was scouringAnjou and Brittany to rally the friends of his cause and his house. Ahundred and fifty men, soldiers and faithful servants, escorted thesethree noble and pious families, who were leaving their castles to go andseek liberties and perils in a new war. When they arrived at the bank ofthe Loire, they found all points in the neighborhood guarded; the riverwas low; and a boatman pointed out to them, near Sancerre, a possibleford. Conde went over first, with one of his children in his arms. 

[Illustration: Conde at the Ford---328]

They all went over singing the psalm, _When Israel went out of Egypt, _and on the 16th of September, 1568, Conde entered La Rochelle. "I fledas far as I could, " he wrote the next day, "but when I got here I foundthe sea; and, inasmuch as I don't know how to swim, I was constrained toturn my head round and gain the land, not with feet, but with hands. " Heassembled the burgesses of La Rochelle, and laid before them the pitiablecondition of the kingdom, the wicked designs of people who were theirenemies as well as his own: he called upon them to come and help; hepromised to be aidful to them in all their affairs, and, "as a pledge ofmy good faith, " said he, "I will leave you my wife and children, thedearest and most precious jewels I have in this world. " The mayor of LaRochelle, La Haise, responded by offering him "lives and property in thename of all the citizens, " who confirmed this offer with an outburst ofpopular enthusiasm. The Protestant nobles of Saintonge and Poitouflocked in. A royal ally was announced; the Queen of Navarre, Jeanned'Albret, was bringing her son Henry, fifteen years of age, whom she wastraining up to be Henry IV. Conde went to meet them, and, on the 28th ofSeptember, 1568, all this flower of French Protestantism was assembled atLa Rochelle, ready and resolved to commence the third religious war. 

It was the longest and most serious of the four wars of this kind whichso profoundly agitated France in the reign of Charles IX. This onelasted from the 24th of August, 1568, to the 8th of August, 1570, betweenthe departure of Conde and Coligny for La Rochelle and the treaty ofpeace of St. Germain-en-Laye: a hollow peace, like the rest, and only twoyears before the St. Bartholomew. On starting from Noyers with Coligny, Conde had addressed to the king, on the 23d of August, a letter and arequest, wherein, "after having set forth the grievances of theReformers, he attributed all the mischief to the Cardinal of Lorraine, and declared that the Protestant nobles felt themselves constrained, forthe safety of the realm, to take up arms against that infamous priest, that tiger of France, and against his accomplices. " He bitterlyreproached the Guises "with treating as mere policists, that is, men whosacrifice religion to temporal interests, the Catholics inclined to makeconcessions to the Reformers, especially the Chancellor de l'Hospital andthe sons of the late Constable de Montmorency. " The Guises, indeed, andtheir friends did not conceal their distrust of De l'Hospital, any morethan he concealed his opposition to their deeds and their designs. Whilst the peace of Longjumeau was still in force, Charles IX. Issued adecree interdicting all Reformers from the chairs of the University andthe offices of the judicature; L'Hospital refused to seal it: "God saveus from the chancellor's mass!" was the remark at court. L'Hospital, convinced that he would not succeed in preserving France from a freshcivil war, made up his mind to withdraw, and go and live for some time athis estate of Vignay [a little hamlet in the commune of Gironville, nearEtampes, Seine-et-Oise]. The queen-mother eagerly took advantage of hiswithdrawal to demand of him the seals, of which, she said, she might haveneed daily. L'Hospital gave them up at once, at the same time retaininghis title of chancellor, and letting the queen know "that he would takepains to recover his strength in order to return to his post, if and whenit should be the king's and the queen's pleasure. " From his rural homehe wrote to his friends, "I am not downhearted because the violence ofthe wicked has snatched from me the seals of the kingdom. I have notdone as sluggards and cowards do, who hide themselves at the first showof danger, and obey the first impulses of fear. As long as I was strongenough, I held my own. Deprived of all support, even that of the kingand the queen, who dared no longer defend me, I retired, deploring theunhappy condition of France. Now I have other cares; I return to myinterrupted studies and to my children, the props of my old age and mysweetest delight. I cultivate my fields. The estate of Vignay seems tome a little kingdom, if any man may consider himself master of anythinghere below. . . . I will tell you more; this retreat, which satisfiesmy heart, also flatters my vanity; I like to imagine myself in the wakeof those famous exiles of Athens or Rome whom their virtues renderedformidable to their fellow-citizens. Not that I dare compare myself withthose great men, but I say to myself that our fortunes are similar. Ilive in the midst of a numerous family whom I love; I have books; I read, write, and meditate; I take pleasure in the games of my children; themost frivolous occupations interest me. In fine, all my time is filledup, and nothing would be wanting to my happiness if it were not for theawful apparition hard by which sometimes comes, bringing trouble anddesolation to my heart. "

This "apparition hard by" was war, everywhere present or imminent in thecentre and south-west of France, accompanied by all those passions ofpersonal hatred and vengeance which are characteristic of religious wars, and which add so much of the moral sufferings to the physical calamitiesof life. L'Hospital, when sending the seals to the queen-mother, whodemanded them of him, considered it his bounden duty to give her withoutany mincing, and the king whom she governed, a piece of patriotic advice. "At my departure, " he says in his will and testament, "I prayed of theking and queen this thing, that, as they had determined to break thepeace, and proceed by war against those with whom they had previouslymade peace, and as they were driving me from the court because they hadheard it said that I was opposed to and ill content with theirenterprise, I prayed them, I say, that if they did not acquiesce in mycounsel, they would, at the very least, some time after they had gluttedand satiated their hearts and their thirst with the blood of theirsubjects, embrace the first opportunity that offered itself for makingpeace, before that things were reduced to utter ruin; for, whatever theremight be at the bottom of this war, it could not but be very perniciousto the king and the kingdom. " During the two years that it lasted, fromAugust, 1568, to August, 1570, the third religious war under Charles IX. Entailed two important battles and many deadly faction-fights, whichspread and inflamed to the highest pitch the passions of the two parties. On the 13th of March, 1569, the two armies, both about twenty thousandstrong, and appearing both of them anxious to come to blows, met nearJarnac, on the banks of the Charente; the royal army had for its chiefCatherine de' Medici's third son, Henry, Duke of Anjou, advised by theveteran warrior Gaspard de Tavannes, and supported by the young DukeHenry of Guise, who had his father to avenge and his own spurs to win. 

[Illustration: HENRY OF LORRAINE (DUKE OF GUISE)----332]

 The Prince of Conde, with Admiral de Coligny for second, commanded theProtestant army. We make no pretension to explain and discuss here themilitary movements of that day, and the merits or demerits of the twogenerals confronted; the Duke of Aumale has given an account of them andcriticised them in his _Histoire des Princes de Conde, _ with a completeknowledge of the facts and with the authority that belongs to him. "Theencounter on the 13th of March, 1569, scarcely deserves, " he says, "to becalled a battle; it was nothing but a series of fights, maintained bytroops separated and surprised, against an enemy which, more numerous tobegin with, was attacking with its whole force united. ". A tragicincident at the same time gave this encounter an importance which it haspreserved in history. Admiral de Coligny, forced to make a retrogrademovement, had sent to ask the Prince of Conde for aid; by a secondmessage he urged the prince not to make a fruitless effort, and to fallback himself in all haste. "God forbid, " answered Conde, "that Louis deBourbon should turn his back to the enemy!" and he continued his march, saying to his brother-in-law, Francis de la Rochefoucauld, who wasmarching beside him, "My uncle has made a 'clerical error' (_pas declerc, _ a slip); but the wine is drawn, and it must be drunk. " Onarriving at the battle-field, whither he had brought with him but threehundred horse, at the very moment when, with this weak escort, he waspreparing to charge the deep column of the Duke of Anjou, he receivedfrom La Rochefoucauld's horse a kick which broke one of the bones of hisleg; and he had already crushed an arm by a fall. We will borrow fromthe Duke of Aumale the glorious and piteous tale of this incident. "Conde turned round to his men-at-arms, and showing first his injuredlimbs and then the device, 'Sweet is danger for Christ and forfatherland!' which fluttered upon his banner in the breeze, 'Nobles ofFrance, ' he cried, 'this is the desired moment Remember in what plightLouis de Bourbon enters the battle for Christ and fatherland!' Then, lowering his head, he charges with his three hundred horse upon the eighthundred lances of the Duke of Anjou. The first shock of this charge wasirresistible; such for a moment was the disorder amongst the Catholicsthat many of them believed the day was lost; but fresh bodies ofroyalists arrive one after another. The prince has his horse killedunder him; and, in the midst of the confusion, hampered by his wounds, hecannot mount another. In spite of all, his brave comrades do not deserthim; Soubise and a dozen of them, covered with wounds, are taken; an oldman, named La Vergne, who had brought with him twenty-five sons ornephews, is left upon the field with fifteen of them, 'all in a heap, 'says D'Aubigne. Left almost alone, with his back against a tree, oneknee upon the ground, and deprived of the use of one leg, Conde stilldefends himself; but his strength is failing him; he sees two Catholicgentlemen to whom he had rendered service, Saint-Jean and D'Argence; hecalls to them, raises the vizor of his helmet, and holds out to them hisgauntlets. The two horsemen dismount, and swear to risk their lives tosave his. Others join them, and are eager to assist the gloriouscaptive. Meanwhile the royal cavalry continues the pursuit; thesquadrons successively pass close by the group which has formed roundConde. Soon he spies the red cloaks of the Duke of Anjou's guards. Hepoints to them with his finger. D'Argence understands him, and, 'Hideyour face!' he cries. 'Ah D'Argence, D'Argence, you will not save me, 'replies the prince. Then, like Caesar, covering up his face, he awaiteddeath the poor soul knew only too well the perfidious character of theDuke of Anjou, the hatred with which he was hunting him down, and thesanguinary orders he would give. The guards had gone by when theircaptain, Montesquion, learned the name of this prisoner. 'Slay, slay, mordioux!' he shouted; then suddenly wheeling his horse round, he returnsat a gallop, and with a pistol-shot, fired from behind, shatters thehero's skull. " [_Histoire des Princes de Conde, _ by M. Le Duc d'Aumale, t. Ii. Pp. 65-72. ]

The death of Conde gave to the battle of Jarnac an importance not itsown. A popular ditty of the day called that prince "the great enemy ofthe mass. " "His end, " says the Duke of Aumale, "was celebrated by theCatholics as a deliverance; a solemn Te Deum was chanted at court and inall the churches of France. The flags taken were sent to Rome, wherePope Pius IV. Went with them in state to St. Peter's. As for the Duke ofAnjou, he showed his joy and his baseness together by the ignobletreatment he caused to be inflicted upon the remains of his vanquishedrelative, a prince of the blood who had fallen sword in hand. At thefirst rumor of Conde's death, the Duke of Montpensier's secretary, Coustureau, had been despatched from headquarters with Baron de Magnac tolearn the truth of the matter. 'We found him there, ' he relates, 'laidupon an ass; the said sir baron took him by the hair of the head for tolift up his face, which he had turned towards the ground, and asked me ifI recognized him. But as he had lost an eye from his head, he wasmightily disfigured; and I could say no more than it was certainly hisfigure and his hair, and further than that I was unable to speak. 'Meanwhile, " continues the Duke of Aumale, "the accounts of those presentremoved all doubt; and the corpse, thus thrown across an ass, with armsand legs dangling, was carried to Jarnac, where the Duke of Anjou lodgedon the evening of the battle. There the body of Conde was taken downamidst the sobs of some Protestant prisoners, who kissed, as they wept, the remains of their gallant chief. This touching spectacle did not stopthe coarse ribaldry of the Duke of Anjou and his favorites; and for twodays the prince's remains were left in a ground-floor room, there exposedto the injurious action of the air and, to the gross insults of thecourtiers. The Duke of Anjou at last consented to give up the body ofConde to the Duke of Longueville, his brother-in-law, who had it interredwith due respect at Vendome in the burial-place of his ancestors. "

When in 1569 he thus testified, from a mixture of hatred and fear, anignoble joy at the death of Louis de Conde, the valiant chief ofProtestantism, the Duke of Anjou did not foresee that, nearly twentyyears later, in 1588, when he had become Henry III. , King of France, hewould also testify, still from a mixture of hatred and fear, the sameignoble joy at sight of the corpse of Henry de Guise, the valiant chiefof Catholicism, murdered by his order and in his palace. 

As soon as Conde's death was known at La Rochelle, the Queen of Navarre, Jeanne d'Albret, hurried to Tonnay-Charente, whither the Protestant armyhad fallen back; she took with her her own son Henry, fifteen years old, and Henry de Bourbon, the late Prince of Conde's son, who was seventeen;and she presented both of them to the army. The younger, the futureHenry IV. , stepped forward briskly. "Your cause, " said he, "is mine;your interests are mine; I swear on my soul, honor, and life, to bewholly yours. " The young Conde took the same oath. The two princes wereassociated in the command, under the authority of Coligny, who wasimmediately appointed lieutenant-general of the army. For two yearstheir double signature figured at the bottom of the principal officialacts of the Reformed party; and they were called "the admiral's pages. "On both of them Jeanne passionately enjoined union between themselves, and equal submission on their part to Coligny, their model and theirmaster in war and in devotion to the common cause. Queen, princes, admiral, and military leaders of all ranks stripped themselves of all thediamonds, jewels, and precious stones which they possessed, and whichElizabeth, the Queen of England, took in pledge for the twenty thousandpounds sterling she lent him. The Queen of Navarre reviewed the army, which received her with bursts of pious and warlike enthusiasm; andleaving to Coligny her two sons, as she called them, she returned aloneto La Rochelle, where she received a like reception from the inhabitants, "rough and loyal people, " says La Noue, "and as warlike as mercantile. "After her departure, a body of German horse, commanded by Count Mansfeld, joined Coligny in the neighborhood of Limoges. Their arrival was anunhoped-for aid. Coligny distributed amongst them a medal bearing theeffigy of Queen Jeanne of Navarre with this legend: "Alone, and with therest, for God, the king, the laws, and peace. "

With such dispositions on one side and the other, war was resumed andpushed forward eagerly from June, 1569, to June, 1570, with alternationsof reverse and success. On the 23d of June, 1569, a fight took place atRoche l'Abeille, near St. Yrieix in Limousin, wherein the Protestants hadthe advantage. The young Catholic noblemen, with Henry de Guise at theirhead, began it rashly, against the desire of their general, Gaspard deTavannes, to show off their bravery before the eyes of the queen-motherand the Cardinal of Lorraine, both of whom considered the operations ofthe army too slow and its successes too rare. They lost five hundred menand many prisoners, amongst others Philip Strozzi, whom Charles IX. Hadjust made colonel-general of the infantry. They took their revenge onthe 7th of September, 1569, by forcing Coligny to raise the siege ofPoitiers, which he had been pushing forward for more than two months, andon the 3d of October following, at the battle of Moncontour in Poitou, the most important of the campaign, which they won brilliantly, and inwhich the Protestant army lost five or six thousand men and a great partof their baggage. Before the action began, "two gentlemen on the side ofthe Catholics, being in an out-of-the-way spot, came to speech, " says LaNoue, "with some of the (Protestant) religion, there being certainditches between them. 

[Illustration: Parley before the Battle of Moncontour----337]

'Sirs, ' said they, 'we bear the marks of enemies, but we do not hate youin any wise, or your party. Warn the admiral to be very careful not tofight, for our army is marvellously strong by reason of re-enforcementsthat have come in to it, and it is very determined withal. Let theadmiral temporize for a month only, for all the nobles have sworn andsaid to Monseigneur that they will not wait any longer, that he mustemploy them within that time, and they will then do their duty. Let theadmiral remember that it is dangerous to stem the fury of Frenchmen, thewhich, however, will suddenly ooze away; if they have not victoryspeedily, they will be constrained to make peace, and will offer it youon advantageous terms. Tell him that we know this from a good source, and greatly desired to advertise him of it. ' Afterwards they retired. The others, " continues La Noue, "went incontinently to the admiral for tomake their report, which was to his taste. They told it also to othersof the principals; and some there were who desired that it should beacted upon; but the majority opined that this notice came from suspectedpersons, who had been accustomed to practise fraud and deceit, and thatno account should be made of it. " The latter opinion prevailed; and thebattle of Moncontour was fought with extreme acrimony, especially on thepart of the Catholics, who were irritated by the cruelties, as La Nouehimself says, which the Protestants had but lately practised at the fightof La Roche l'Abeille. Coligny was wounded in the action, after havingkilled with his own hand the Marquis Philibert of Baden; and the melleyhad been so hot that the admiral's friends found great difficulty inextricating him and carrying him off the field to get his wound attendedto. Three weeks before the battle, on the 13th of September, Coligny hadbeen sentenced to death by the Parliament of Paris, and hanged in effigyon the Place de Greve; and a reward of fifty thousand gold crowns hadbeen offered to whosoever should give him up to the king's justice deador alive, words added, it is said, to the decree at the desire of CharlesIX. Himself. Family sorrows were in Coligny's case added to politicalreverses; on the 27th of May, in this same year 1569, he had lost hisbrother D'Andelot, his faithful comrade in his religious as well as hiswarlike career. "He found himself, " says D'Aubigne, "saddled with theblame due to accident, his own merits being passed over in silence; withthe remnant of an army which, when it was whole, was in despair evenbefore the late disaster; with weak towns, dismayed garrisons, andforeigners without baggage; himself moneyless, his enemies very powerful, and pitiless towards all, especially towards him; abandoned by all thegreat, except one woman, the Queen of Navarre, who, having nothing butthe title, had advanced to Niort in order to lend a hand to the afflictedand to affairs in general. This old man, worn down by fever, endured allthese causes of anguish and many others that came to rack him morepainfully than his grievous wound. As he was being borne along in alitter, Lestrange, an old nobleman, and one of his principal counsellors, travelling in similar fashion, and wounded likewise, had his own litter, where the road was broad, moved forward in front of the admiral's, andputting his head out at the door, he looked steadily at his chief, saying, with tears in his eyes, 'Yet God is very merciful. ' Thereuponthey bade one another farewell, perfectly at one in thought, withoutbeing able to say more. This great captain confessed to his intimatesthat these few friendly words restored him, and set him up again in theway of good thoughts and firm resolutions for the future. " He was somuch restored, that, between the end of 1569 and the middle of 1570, hemarched through the south and the centre of France the army which he hadreorganized, and with which, wherever he went, he restored, if notsecurity, at any rate confidence and zeal, to his party. 

On arriving at Arnay-le-Duc, in Burgundy, he found himself confronted byMarshal de Cosse with thirteen thousand men of the king's troops. Coligny had barely half as many; but he did not hesitate to attack, andon the 13th of June, 1570, he was so near victory that the road was leftopen before him. On the 7th of July he arrived at Charite-sur-Loire. Alarm prevailed at Paris. A truce for ten days was signed, andnegotiations were reopened for a fresh attempt at peace. 

"If any one, in these lamentable wars, worked hard, both with body andmind, " says La Noue, "it may be said to have been the admiral, for, asregards the greatest part of the burden of military affairs andhardships, it was he who supported them with much constancy and buoyancy;and he was as respectful in his bearing towards the princes his superiorsas he was modest towards his inferiors. He always had piety in singularesteem, and a love of justice, which made him valued and honored by themof the party which he had embraced. He did not seek ambitiously forcommands and honors; they were thrust upon him because of his competenceand his expertness. When he handled arms and armies, he showed that hewas very conversant with them, as much so as any captain of his day, andhe always exposed himself courageously to danger. In difficulties, hewas observed to be full of magnanimity and resource in getting out ofthem, always showing himself quite free from swagger and parade. Inshort, he was a personage worthy to re-establish an enfeebled and acorrupted state. I was fain to say these few words about him in passing, for, having known him and been much with him, and having profited by histeaching, I should have been wrong if I had not made truthful andhonorable mention of him. " [_Memoires de La Noue, in the Petitotcollection, _ 1st series, t. Xxxiv. P. 288. ]

The negotiations were short. The war had been going on for two years. The two parties, victorious and vanquished by turns, were both equallysick of it. In vain did Philip II. , King of Spain, offer Charles IX. Anaid of nine thousand men to continue it. In vain did Pope Pius V. Writeto Catherine de' Medici, "As there can be no communion between Satan andthe children of the light, it ought to be taken for certain that therecan be no compact between Catholics and heretics, save one full of fraudand feint. " "We have beaten our enemies, " says Montluc, "over and overagain; but notwithstanding that, they had so much influence in the king'scouncil that the decrees were always to their advantage. We won by arms, but they won by those devils of documents. " Peace was concluded at St. Germain-en-Laye on the 8th of August, 1570, and it was more equitable andbetter for the Reformers than the preceding treaties; for, besides apretty large extension as regarded free exercise of their worship andtheir civil rights in the state, it granted "for two years, to theprinces of Navarre and Conde and twenty noblemen of the religion, whowere appointed by the king, the wardenship of the towns of La Rochelle, Cognac, Montauban, and La Charite, whither those of the religion whodared not return so soon to their own homes might retire. " All themembers of the Parliament, all the royal and municipal officers, and theprincipal inhabitants of the towns where the two religions existed werefurther bound over on oath "to maintenance of the edict. "

Peace was made; but it was the third in seven years, and very shortlyafter each new treaty civil war had recommenced. No more was expectedfrom the treaty of St. Germain-en-Laye than had been effected by those ofAmboise and Longjumeau, and on both sides men sighed for something morestable and definitive. By what means to be obtained and with whatpledges of durability? A singular fact is apparent between 1570 and1572; there is a season, as it were, of marriages and matrimonialrejoicings. Charles IX. Went to receive at the frontier of his kingdomhis affianced bride, Archduchess Elizabeth of Austria, daughter of theemperor, Maximilian II. , who was escorted by the Archbishop of Treves, chancellor of the empire; the nuptials were celebrated at Mezieres, onthe 26th of November, 1570; the princes and great lords of the Protestantparty were invited; they did not think it advisable to withdrawthemselves from their asylum at La Rochelle; but Coligny wrote to thequeen-mother to excuse himself, whilst protesting his forgetfulness ofthe past and his personal devotion. Four months afterwards, Colignyhimself married again; it was three years since he had lost his noblewife, Charlotte de Laval, and he had not contemplated anything of thekind, when, in the concluding weeks of 1570, he received from the castleof St. Andre de Briord, in Le Bugey, a letter from a great lady, thirtyyears of age, Jacqueline de Montbel, daughter of Count d'Entremont, herself a widow, who wrote to him "that she would fain marry a saint anda hero, and that he was that hero. " "I am but a tomb, " replied Coligny. But Jacqueline persisted, in spite of the opposition shown by hersovereign, Emmanuel Philibert, Duke of Savoy, who did not like his fairsubjects to marry foreigners; and in February, 1571, she furtivelyquitted her castle, dropped down the Rhone in a boat as far as Lyons, mounted on horseback, and, escorted by five devoted friends, arrived atLa Rochelle. All Coligny's friends were urgent for him to accept thispassionate devotion proffered by a lady who would bring him territorialpossessions valuable to the Protestants, "for they were an open door toGeneva. " Coligny accepted; and the marriage took place at La Rochelle onthe 24th of March, 1571. "Madame Jacqueline wore, on this occasion, "says a contemporary chronicler, "a skirt in the Spanish fashion, of blackgold-tissue, with bands of embroidery in gold and silver twist, and, above, a doublet of white silver-tissue embroidered in gold, with largediamond-buttons. " She was, nevertheless, at that moment almost as poor asthe German arquebusiers who escorted her litter; for an edict issued bythe Duke of Savoy on the 31st of January, 1569, caused her the loss ofall her possessions in her own country. She was received in France withthe respect due to her; and when, five months after the marriage, Charles; IX. Summoned Coligny to Paris, "to serve him in his mostimportant affairs, as a worthy minister, whose virtues were sufficientlyknown and tried, " he sent at the same time to Madame l'Amirale asafe-conduct in which he called her my fair cousin. Was there any onebelonging to that august and illustrious household who had, at that time, a presentiment of their impending and tragic destiny?

At the same period, the Queen of Navarre, Jeanne d'Albret, obtained forher young nephew, Henry de Bourbon, Prince of Conde, son of the hero ofJarnac, and companion of Henry of Navarre, the hand of his cousin, Maryof Cleves; and there was still going on in London, on behalf of one ofCharles IX. 's brothers, --at one time the Duke of Anjou and at another theDuke of Alencon, --the negotiation which was a vain attempt to make QueenElizabeth espouse a French prince. 

Coincidently with all these marriages or projects of marriage amongstprinces and great lords came the most important of all, that which was tounite Henry of Navarre and Charles IX. 's sister, Marguerite de Valois. There had already, thirteen or fourteen years previously, been some talkabout it, in the reign of King Henry II. , when Henry of Navarre andMargaret de Valois, each born in 1553, were both of them mere babies. This union between the two branches of the royal house, one Catholic andthe other Protestant, ought to have been the most striking sign and thesurest pledge of peace between Catholicism and Protestantism. Thepolitical expediency of such a step appeared the more evident and themore urgent in proportion as the religious war had become more direfuland the desire for peace more general. Charles IX. Embraced the ideapassionately. At the outset he encountered an obstacle. The young Dukeof Guise had already paid court to Marguerite, and had obtained suchmarked favor with her that the ambassador of Spain wrote to the king, "There is no public topic in France just now save the marriage of my LadyMarguerite with the Duke of Guise. " People even talked of a tendercorrespondence between the princess and the duke, which was carried onthrough one of the queen's ladies, the Countess of Mirandola, who wasdevoted to the Guises and a favorite with Marguerite. "If it be so, "said Charles IX. , savagely, "we will kill him;" and he gave suchperemptory orders on this subject, that Henry de Guise, somewhatdisquieted, avoided for a while taking part in the royal hunts, andthought it well that there should be resumed on his behalf a project ofmarriage with Catherine of Cleves, widow of the Prince of Portien (LePorcien) and the wealthy heiress to some great domains, especially thecountship of Eu. So long as he had some hope of marrying Marguerite deValois, the Duke of Guise had repudiated, not without offensiveness, allidea of union with Catherine of Cleves. "Anybody who can make me marrythe Princess of Portien, " said he, "could make me marry a negress. " He, nevertheless, contracted this marriage, so greatly disdained, on the 4thof October, 1570; and at this price recovered the good graces of CharlesIX. The queen-mother charged the Cardinal Louis de Lorraine, him whomthe people called Cardinal Bottles (from his conviviality), to publiclygive the lie to any rumor of a possible engagement between her daughterMarguerite and Henry de Guise; and a grand council of the kings, afterthree holdings, adopted in principle the marriage of Marguerite de Valoiswith "the little Prince of Bearn. "

Charles IX. At once set his hand to the work to turn this resolution togood account, being the only means, he said, of putting a stop at last tothis incessantly renewed civil war, which was the plague of his life aswell as of his kingdom. He first of all sent Marshal de Cosse to LaRochelle, to sound Coligny as to his feelings upon this subject, and tourge him to thus cut short public woes and the Reformers' grievances. "The king has always desired peace, " said the marshal; "he wishes it tobe lasting; he has proved only too well, to his own misery and that ofhis people, that of all the evils which can afflict a state, the mostdireful is civil war. But what means this withdrawal, since the signingof peace at St. Germain, of the Queen of Navarre and her children, of thePrince of Conde, and so many lords and distinguished nobles, stillseparated from their houses and their families, and collected together ina town like Rochelle, which has great advantages by land and sea for allthose who would fain begin the troubles again? Why have they notreturned home? During the hottest part of the war, they ardently desiredto see once more their houses, their wives, and their children; and now, when peace leaves them free to do so, they prefer to remain in a landwhich is in some sort foreign, and where, in addition to great expenses, they are deprived of the conveniences they would find at home. The kingcannot make out such absurdity; or, rather, he is very apprehensive thatthis long stay means the hatching of some evil design. " The Protestantsdefended themselves warmly against this supposition; they alleged, inexplanation of their persistent disquietude, the very imperfect executionof the conditions granted by the peace of St. Germain, and the insults, the attacks which they had still to suffer in many parts of the kingdom, and quite recently at Rouen and at Orange. The king attempted, withoutany great success, to repress these disorders amongst the populace. TheQueen of Navarre, the two princes, Coligny, and many Protestant lordsremained still at La Rochelle, where was being held at this time ageneral synod of the Reformed churches. Charles IX. Sent thither Marshalde Biron, with formal orders to negotiate the marriage of Marguerite deValois and the Prince of Navarre, and to induce that prince, his motherthe Queen of Navarre, and Coligny to repair to the court in order toconclude the matter. The young prince was at that time in Warn. Thequeen, his mother, answered, "That she would consult her spiritualadvisers, and, as soon as her conscience was at rest, there were noconditions she would not accept with a view of giving satisfaction to theking and the queen, of marking her obedience and respect towards them, and of securing the tranquillity of the state, an object for which shewould willingly sacrifice her own life. . . . But, " she added, "Iwould rather sink to the condition of the humblest damoisel in Francethan sacrifice to the aggrandizement of my family my own soul and myson's. "

In September, 1571, Charles IX. And the queen-mother repaired to Blois;and at their urgent request Coligny went thither to talk over theprojected marriage and the affairs of Europe. The king received him withemotional satisfaction, calling him my father, and saying to him, "Now wehave you, and you shall not escape us when you wish to. " Jeanned'Albret, more distrustful, or, one ought rather to say, moreclear-sighted, refused to leave La Rochelle, and continued to negotiatevaguely and from a distance. Catherine de' Medici insisted. "Satisfy, "she wrote to her, "the extreme desire we have to see you in this company;you will be loved and honored therein as accords with reason and withwhat you are. " Jeanne still waited. It was only in the following year, at the end of January, that, having earnestly exhorted her son "to remainBearn-wards whilst she was at the court of France, " she set out forBlois, where Charles IX. Received her most affectionately, calling her mygood aunt, my dear aunt, and lavishing upon her promises as well asendearments. Jeanne was a strict and a judicious person; and the mannersand proceedings of the court at Blois displeased her. On the 8th ofMarch, 1572, she wrote to her son, "I find it necessary to negotiatequite contrariwise to what I had expected and what had been promised me;I have no liberty to speak to the king or my Lady Marguerite, only to thequeen-mother, who treats me as if I were dirt. . . . Seeing, then, that no advance is made, and that the desire is to make me hurry matters, and not conduct them orderly, I have thrice spoken thereof to the queen, who does nothing but make a fool of me, and tell everybody the oppositeof what I told her; in such sort that my friends find fault with me, andI know not how to bring her to book, for when I say to her, 'Madame, itis reported that I said so-and-so to you, ' though it was she herself whoreported it, she denies it flatly, and laughs in my face, and uses me insuch wise that you might really say that my patience passes that ofGriselda. . . . Thenceforward I have a troop of Huguenots, who cometo converse with me, rather for the purpose of being spies upon me thanof assisting me. Then I have some of another humor, who hamper me noless, and who are religious hermaphrodites. I defend myself as best Imay. . . I am sure that if you only knew the trouble I am in, youwould have pity upon me, for they give me empty speeches and railleryinstead of treating with me gravely, as the matter deserves; in such sortthat I am bursting, because I am so resolved not to lose my temper thatmy patience is a miracle to see. . . . I found your letter very muchto my taste; I will show, it to my Lady Marguerite if I can. She isbeautiful, and discreet, and of good demeanor, but brought up in the mostaccursed and most corrupt society that ever was. I would not, foranything in the world, have you here to remain here. That is why Idesire to get you married, and you and your wife withdraw from thiscorruption; for though I believed it to be very great, I find it stillmore so. Here it is not the men who solicit the women; it is the womenwho solicit the men. If you were here, you would never escape without agreat deal of God's grace. "

[Illustration: Admiral Gaspard de Coligny----346]

Side by side with this motherly and Christianly scrupulous negotiation, Coligny set on foot another, noble and dignified also, but even less inharmony with the habits and bent of the government which it concerned. The puritan warrior was at the same time an ardent patriot: he had atheart the greatness of France as much as he had his personal creed; thereverses of Francis I. And the preponderance of Spain in Europe oppressedhis spirit with a sense of national decadence, from which he wantedFrance to lift herself up again. The moment appeared to him propitious;let the king ally himself with Queen Elizabeth of England, the Prince ofOrange in the Low Countries, and the Protestant princes of Germany; herewas for France a certain guarantee of power in Europe, and at the sametime a natural opportunity for conquering Flanders, a possession sonecessary to her strength and her security. But high above this policy, so thoroughly French, towered a question still more important than thatof even the security and the grandeur of France; that was the partitionof Europe between Catholicism and Protestantism; and it was in a countryCatholic in respect of the great majority, and governed by a kingshipwith which Catholicism was hereditary, that, in order to put a stop tocivil war between French Catholics and Protestants, Coligny pressed theking to put himself at the head of an essentially Protestant coalition, and make it triumphant in Europe. This was, in the sixteenth century, apolicy wholly chimerical, however patriotic its intention may have been;and the French Protestant hero who recommended it to Charles IX. Did notknow that Protestantism was on the eve of the greatest disaster it wouldhave to endure in France. 

A fact of a personal character tended to mislead Coligny. By his renown, by the loftiness of his views, by the earnest gravity of his characterand his language he had produced a great effect upon Charles IX. , a youngking of warm imagination and impressible and sympathetic temperament, but, at the same time, of weak judgment. He readily gave way, inColigny's company, to outpourings which had all the appearance of perfectand involuntary frankness. "Speaking one day to the admiral about thecourse of conduct to be adopted as to the enterprise against Flanders, and well knowing that the queen-mother lay under his suspicion, 'My dearfather, ' said he, 'there is one thing herein of which we must take goodheed; and that is, that the queen, my mother, who likes to poke her noseeverywhere, as you know, learn nothing of this enterprise, at any rate asregards the main spring of it, for she would spoil all for us. ' 'As youplease, sir; but I take her to be so good a mother, and so devoted to thewelfare of your kingdom, that when she knows of it she will do nothing tospoil it. ' 'You are mistaken, my dear father, ' said the king; 'leave itto me only; I see quite well that you do not know my mother; she is thegreatest meddler in all the world. '" Another time, when he was speakinglikewise to Teligny, Coligny's son-in-law, about this enterprise againstFlanders, the king said, "Wouldst have me speak to thee freely, Teligny?I distrust all these gentry; I am suspicious of Tavannes' ambition;Vieilleville loves nothing but good wine; Cosse is too covetous;Montmorency cares only for his hunting and hawking; the Count de Retz isa Spaniard; the other lords of my court and those of my council are mereblockheads; my Secretaries of State, to hide nothing of what I think, arenot faithful to me; insomuch that, to tell the truth, I know not at whatend to begin. " This tone of freedom and confidence had inspired Colignywith reciprocal confidence; he believed himself to have a decisiveinfluence over the king's ideas and conduct; and when the Protestantstestified their distrust upon this subject, he reproached them vehementlyfor it; he affirmed the king's good intentions and sincerity; and heconsidered himself in fact, said Catherine de' Medici with temper, "a second king of France. "

How much sincerity was there about these outpourings of Charles IX. Inhis intercourse with Coligny, and how much reality in the admiral'sinfluence over the king? We are touching upon that great historicalquestion which has been so much disputed: was the St. Bartholomew adesign, long ago determined upon and prepared for, of Charles IX. And hisgovernment, or an almost sudden resolution, brought about by events andthe situation of the moment, to which Charles IX. Was egged on, notwithout difficulty, by his mother Catherine and his advisers?

We recall to mind here what was but lately said in this very chapter asto the condition of minds and morals in the sixteenth century, and as tothe tragic consequences of it. Massacre, we add no qualifying term tothe word, was an idea, a habit, we might say almost a practice, familiarto that age, and one which excited neither the surprise nor the horrorwhich are inseparable from it in our day. So little respect for humanlife and for truth was shown in the relations between man and man! Notthat those natural sentiments, which do honor to the human race, werecompletely extinguished in the hearts of men; they reappeared here andthere as a protest against the vices and the crimes of the period; butthey were too feeble and too rare to struggle effectually against thesway of personal passions and interests, against atrocious hatreds andhopes, against intellectual aberrations and moral corruption. To betrayand to kill were deeds so common that they caused scarcely anyastonishment, and that people were almost resigned to them beforehand. We have cited fifteen or twenty cases of the massacres which in the reignof Charles IX. , from 1562 to 1572, grievously troubled and steeped inblood such and such a part of France, without leaving any lasting tracesin history. Previously to the massacre called the St. Bartholomew, themassacre of Vassy is almost the only one which received and kept its truename. The massacre of Vassy was, undoubtedly, an accident, a deed not atall forecast or prepared for. The St. Bartholomew massacre was an eventfor a long time forecast and announced, promised to the Catholics andthrown out as a threat to the Protestants, written beforehand, so tospeak, in the history of the religious wars of France, but, nevertheless, at the moment at which it was accomplished, and in the mode of itsaccomplishment, a deed unexpected so far as the majority of the victimswere concerned, and a cause of contest even amongst its originators. Accordingly it was, from the very first, a subject of surprise andhorror, throughout Europe as well as in France; not only because of thetorrents of blood that were shed, but also because of the extraordinarydegree in which it was characterized by falsehood and ferocious hatred. 

We will bring forward in support of this double assertion only such factsand quotations as appear to us decisive. 

In 1565, Charles IX. And Catherine de' Medici had an interview at Bayonnewith the Duke of Alba, representative of Philip II. , to consult as to themeans of delivering France from heretics. "They agreed at last, " saysthe contemporary historian Adriani [continuer of Guicciardini; he haddrawn his information from the _Journal of Cosmo de' Medici, _ Grand Dukeof Tuscany, who died in 1574], "in the opinion of the Catholic king, whothought that this great blessing could not have accomplishment save bythe death of all the chiefs of the Huguenots, and by a new edition, asthe saying was, of the Sicilian Vespers. 'Take the big fish, ' said theDuke of Alba, 'and let the small fry go; one salmon is worth more than athousand frogs. ' They decided that the deed should be done at Moulins inBourbonness, whither the king was to return. The execution of it wasafterwards deferred to the date of the St. Bartholomew, in 1572, atParis, because of certain suspicions which had been manifested by theHuguenots, and because it was considered easier and more certain to getthem all together at Paris than at Moulins. "

Catherine de' Medici charged Cardinal Santa Croce to assure Pope Pius V. "that she and her son had nothing more at heart than to get the admiraland all his confidants together some day and make a massacre (_unmacello_) of them; but the matter, " she said, "was so difficult thatthere was no possibility of promising to do it at one time more than atanother. "

La Noue bears witness in his _Memoires_ to "the resolution taken atBayonne, with the Duke of Alba aiding, to exterminate the Huguenots ofFrance and the beggars (_gueux_) of Flanders; whereof warning had beengiven by those about whom there was no doubt. All these things, and manyothers as to which I am silent, mightily waked up those, " he adds, "whohad no desire to be caught napping. And I remember that the chiefs ofthe religion held, within a short time, three meetings, as well at Valerias at Chatillon, to deliberate upon present occurrences, and to seek outlegitimate and honorable expedients for securing themselves against somuch alarm, without having recourse to extreme remedies. "

De Thou regards these facts as certain, and, after having added somedetails, he sums them all up in the words, "This is what passed atBayonne in 1565. "

In 1571, after the third religious war and the peace ofSt. Germain-en-Laye, Marshal de Tavaunes wrote to Charles IX. , "Peacehas a chance of lasting, because neither of the two parties is willingor able to renew open war; but, if one of the two sees quite a safeopportunity for putting a complete end to what is at the root of thequestion, this it will take; for to remain forever in the state nowexisting is what nobody can or ought to hope for. And there is no suchnear approximation to a complete victory as to take the persons. For tosurprise what they (the Reformers) hold, to put down their religion, andto break off all at once the alliances which support them--this isimpossible. Thus there is no way but to take the chiefs all togetherfor to make an end of it. "

Next year, on the 24th of August, 1572, when the St. Bartholomew brokeout, Tavannes took care to himself explain what he meant in 1571 by thosewords, to take the chiefs all together for to make an end of it. Beinginvested with the command in Paris, "he went about the city all day, "says Brantome, "and, seeing so much blood spilt, he said and shouted tothe people, 'Bleed, bleed; the doctors say that bleeding is as good allthrough this month of August as in May. '"

In the year which preceded the outbreak of the massacre, when themarriage of Marguerite de Valois with the Prince of Navarre was agreedupon, and Coligny was often present at court, sometimes at Blois andsometimes at Paris, there arose between the king and the queen-mother adifference which there had been up to that time nothing to foreshadow. It was plain that the union between the two branches, Catholic andProtestant, of the royal house and the patriotic policy of Coligny werefar more pleasing to Charles IX. Than to his mother. 

On the matrimonial question the king's feeling was so strong that heexpressed it roughly. Jeanne d'Albret having said to him one day thatthe pope would make them wait a long while for the dispensation requestedfor the marriage, "No, no, my clear aunt, " said the king; "I honor youmore than I do the pope, and I love my sister more than I fear him. I amnot a Huguenot, but no more am I an ass. If the pope has too much of hisnonsense, I will myself take Margot by the hand and carry her off to bemarried in open conventicle. " Toligny, for his part, was so pleased withthe measures that Charles IX. Had taken in favor of the Low Countries intheir quarrels with Philip II. , and so confident himself of his influenceover the king, that when Tavannes was complaining in his presence "thatthe vanquished should make laws for the victors, " Coligny said to hisface, "Whoever is not for war with Spain is not a good Frenchman, and hasthe red cross inside him. " The Catholics were getting alarmed andirritated. The Guises and their partisans left the court. It was nearthe time fixed for the marriage of Henry of Navarre and Marguerite deValois; the new pope, Gregory XIII. , who had at first shown more pliancythan his predecessor Pius V. , attached to the dispensation conditions towhich neither the intended husband nor King Charles IX. Himself wasinclined to consent. The Queen of Navarre, Jeanne d'Albret, who had goneto Paris in preparation for the marriage, had died there on the 8th ofJune, 1572; a death which had given rise to very likely ill-foundedaccusations of poisoning. "A princess, " says D'Aubigne, "with nothing ofa woman but the sex, with a soul full of everything manly, a mind fit tocope with affairs of moment, and a heart invincible in adversity. " Itwas in deep mourning that her son, become King of Navarre, arrived atcourt, attended by eight hundred gentlemen, all likewise in mourning. "But, " says Marguerite de Valois herself, "the nuptials took place a fewdays afterwards with such triumph and magnificence as none others of myquality; the King of Navarre and his troop having changed their mourningfor very rich and fine clothes, and I being dressed royally, with crownand corset of tufted ermine, all blazing with crown-jewels, and the grandblue mantle with a train four ells long borne by three princesses, thepeople choking one another down below to see us pass. " The marriage wascelebrated on the 18th of August, by the Cardinal of Bourbon, in front ofthe principal entrance of Notre-Dame. When the Princess Marguerite wasasked if she consented, she appeared to hesitate a moment; but KingCharles IX. Put his hand a little roughly on her head, and made her lowerit in token of assent. Accompanied by the king, the queen-mother, andall the Catholics present, Marguerite went to hear mass in the choir;Henry and his Protestant friends walked about the cloister and the nave;Marshal de Damville pointed out to Coligny the flags, hanging from thevaulted roof of Notre-Dame, which had been taken from the vanquished atthe battle of Moncontour. "I hope, " said the admiral, "that they willsoon have others better suited for lodgement in this place. " He wasalready dreaming of victories over the Spaniards. 

Meanwhile Charles IX. Was beginning to hesitate. He was quite willingto disconnect himself from the King of Spain, and even to incur hisdispleasure, but not to be actively embroiled with him and make war uponhim; he could not conceal from himself that this policy, thoroughlyFrench though it was, was considered in France too Protestant for aCatholic king. Coligny urged him vehemently. "If you want men, " hesaid, "I have ten thousand at your service;" whereupon Tavannes said tothe king, "Sir, whoever of your subjects uses such words to you, youought to have his head struck off. How is it that he offers you thatwhich is your own? It is that he has won over and corrupted them, andthat he is a party-leader to your prejudice. " Tavannes, a rough andfaithful soldier, did not admit that there could be amongst men moralties of a higher kind than political ties. Charles IX. , too weak in mindand character to think and act with independence and consistency in thegreat questions of the day, only sought how to elude them, and to leavetime, that inscrutable master, to settle them in his place. Hisindecision brought him to a state of impotence, and he ended by inabilityto do anything but dodge and lie, like his mother, and even with hismother. Whilst he was getting his sister married to the King of Navarreand concerting his policy with Coligny, he was adopting towards the threeprincipal personages who came to talk over those affairs with him threedifferent sorts of language; to Cardinal Alessandrino, whom Pope Pius V. Had sent to him to oppose the marriage, he said, "My lord cardinal, allthat you say to me is sound; I acknowledge it, and I thank the pope andyou for it; if I had any other means of taking vengeance on my enemies, I would not make this marriage; but I have no other. " With Jeanned'Albret, he lauded himself for the marriage as the best policy he couldpursue. "I give my sister, " he said, "not to the Prince of Navarre, butto all the Huguenots, to marry them as it were, and take from them alldoubt as to the unchangeable fixity of my edicts. " And to humor hismother Catherine, he said to her, on the very evening of his interviewwith Jeanne d'Albret, "What think you, madam? Do I not play my partletwell?" "Yes, very well; but it is nothing if it is not continued. " AndCharles continued to play his part, even after the Bartholomew was over, for he was fond of saying with a laugh, "My big sister Margot caught allthose Huguenot rebels in the bird-catching style. What has grieved memost is being obliged to dissimulate so long. "

His contemporary Catholic biographer, Papirius Masson, who wastwenty-eight years old at the time of the St. Bartholomew, says of him, "He is impatient in waiting, ferocious in his fits of anger, skilfullymasked when he wishes, and ready to break faith as soon as that appearsto his advantage. "

[Illustration: Charles IX. And Catherine de' Medici----354]

Such was the prince, fiery and flighty, inconsistent and artful, accessible to the most opposite sympathies as well as hatreds, of whomCatherine de' Medici and Admiral Coligny were disputing the possession. 

In the spring of 1572 Coligny might have considered himself the victor inthis struggle; at his instance Charles IX. Had written on the 27th ofApril to Count Louis of Nassau, leader of the Protestant insurrection inHainault, "that he was determined, so far as opportunities and thearrangements of his affairs permitted him, to employ the powers which Godhad put into his hands for the deliverance of the Low Countries from theoppression under which they were groaning. " Fortified by this promise ofthe king's, Coligny had raised a body of French Protestants, and had sentit under the command of La Noue to join the army of Louis of Nassau. TheReformers had at first had some successes; they had taken Valenciennesand Mons; but the Duke of Alba restored the fortunes of the King ofSpain; he re-entered Valenciennes and he was besieging Mons. Colignysent to the aid of that place a fresh body of French under the orders ofSenlis, one of his comrades in faith and arms. Before setting out, Senlis saw Charles IX. , received from him money together withencouragement, and, in the corps he led, some Catholics were mixed withthe Protestants. But from the very court of France there came to theDuke of Alba warnings which put him in a position to surprise the Frenchcorps; and Senlis was beaten and made prisoner on the 10th of July. "I have in my hands, " the Duke of Alba sent word to his king, "a letterfrom the King of France which would strike you dumb if you were to seeit; for the moment, it is expedient to say nothing about it. " "News ofthe defeat of Senlis, " says Tavannes, "comes flying to court, and changeshearts and counsels. Disdain, despite, is engendered in the admiral, whohurls this defeat upon the heads of those who have prevented the kingfrom declaring himself; he raises a new levy of three thousand foot, and, not regarding who he is and where he is, he declares, in the presumptionof his audacity, that he can no longer hold his partisans, and that itmust be one of two wars, Spanish or civil. It is all thunder-storm atcourt; everyone remains on the watch at the highest pitch of resolution. "A grand council was assembled. Coligny did not care. He had already, atthe king's request, set forth in a long memorial all the reasons for hispolicy of a war with Spain; the king had appeared struck with them; but, "as he only sought, " says De Thou, "to gain time without its beingperceived, " he handed the admiral's memorial to the keeper of the seals, John de Morvilliers, requesting him to set forth also all the reasons fora pacific policy. Coligny, a man of resolution and of action, did nottake any pleasure in thus prolonging the discussion; nevertheless heagain brought forward and warmly advocated, at the grand council, theviews he had so often expressed. They were almost unanimously rejected. Coligny did not consider himself bound to give them up. "I havepromised, " said he, "on my own account, my assistance to the Prince ofOrange; I hope the king will not take it ill if by means of my friends, and perhaps in person, I fulfil my promise. " This reservation excitedgreat surprise. "Madam, " said Coligny to the queen-mother, "the king isto-day shunning a war which would promise him great advantages; Godforbid that there should break out another which he cannot shun!" Thecouncil broke up in great agitation. "Let the queen beware, " saidTavannes, "of the king her son's secret councils, designs, and sayings;if she do not look out, the Huguenots will have him. At any rate, beforethinking of anything else, let her exert herself to regain the mother'sauthority which the admiral has caused her to lose. "

The king was hunting at Brie. The queen-mother went and joined him; sheshut herself up with him in a cabinet, and, bursting into tears, shesaid, "I should never have thought that, in return for having taken somuch pains to bring you up and preserve to you the crown, you would havehad heart to make me so miserable a recompense. You hide yourself fromme, me who am your mother, in order to take counsel of your enemies. Iknow that you hold secret counsels with the admiral; you desire to plungerashly into war with Spain, in order to give your kingdom, yourself, andthe persons that are yours, over as a prey to them of the religion. If Iam so miserable a creature, yet before I see that, give me leave towithdraw to the place of my birth; remove from you your brother, who maycall himself unfortunate in having employed his own life to preserveyours; give him at least time to withdraw out of danger and from thepresence of enemies made in doing you service; Huguenots who desire notwar with Spain, but with France, and the subversion of all the Estates inorder to set up themselves. "

Tavannes himself terms these expressions "an artful harangue;" but hesays, "it moved, astounded, and dismayed the king, not so much on thescore of the Huguenots as of his mother and brother, whose subtlety, ambition, and power in the state he knew; he marvelled to see hiscounsels thus revealed; he avowed them, asked pardon, promised obedience. Having sown this distrust, having shot this first bolt, the queen-mother, still in displeasure, withdrew to Monceaux. The trembling king followedher; he found her with his brother and Sieurs de Tavannes, de Retz, andthe Secretary of State de Sauve, the last of whom threw himself upon hisknees and received his Majesty's pardon for having revealed his counselsto his mother. The infidelity, the bravado, the audacity, the menaces, and the enterprises of the Huguenots were magnified with so much of truthand art that from friends behold them converted into enemies of the king, who, nevertheless, wavering as ever, could not yet give up the desire hehad conceived of winning glory and reputation by war with Spain. "

A fresh incident increased the agitation in the royal circle. In July, 1572, the throne of Poland had become vacant. A Polish embassy came tooffer it to the Duke of Anjou. On his part and his mother's, there wasat first great eagerness to accept it; Catherine was charmed to see herfavorite son becoming a king. "If we had required, " says a Polishhistorian, "that the French should build a bridge of solid gold over theVistula, they would have agreed. " Hesitation soon took the place ofeagerness; Henry demanded information, and took time to reply. He hadshown similar hesitation at the time of the negotiations entered upon inLondon, in 1571, with a view of making him the husband of Elizabeth, Queen of England: Coligny, who was very anxious to have him away, pressedCharles IX. To insist upon a speedy solution. "If Monsieur, " said he, "who would not have England by marriage, will not have Poland either byelection, let him declare once for all that he will not leave France. "The relations between the two brothers became day by day moreuncomfortable: two years later, Henry, for a brief period King of Poland, himself told the story of them to his physician Miron. "When, by anychance, " he said, "the queen-mother and I, after the admiral's departure, approached the king to speak to him of any matters, even those whichconcerned merely his pleasure, we found him marvellously quick-temperedand cross-grained, with rough looks and bearing, and his answers stillmore so. One day, a very short time before the St. Bartholomew, settingout expressly from my quarters to go and see the king, somebody told meon inquiry that he was in his cabinet, whence the admiral, who had beenalone with him a very long while, had just that instant gone out. Ientered at once, as I had been accustomed to do. But as soon as the kingmy brother perceived me, he, without saying anything to me, began walkingabout furiously and with long steps, often looking towards me askance andwith a very evil eye, sometimes laying his hand upon his dagger, and inso excited a fashion that I expected nothing else but that he would comeand take me by the collar to poniard me. I was very vexed that I hadgone in, reflecting upon the peril I was in, but still more upon how toget out of it; which I did so dexterously, that, whilst he was walkingwith his back turned to me, I retreated quickly towards the door, which Iopened, and, with a shorter obeisance than at my entry, I made my exit, which was scarcely perceived by him until I was outside. And straightwayI went to look for the queen my mother; and, putting together allreports, notifications, and suspicions, the time, and past circumstances, in conjunction with this last meeting, we remained both of us easilypersuaded, and as it were certain, that it was the admiral who hadimpressed the king with some bad and sinister opinion of us, and weresolved from that moment to rid ourselves of him. "

One idea immediately occurred to Catherine and her son. Two persons felta passionate hatred towards Coligny; they were the widow of Duke Francisof Guise, Anne d'Este, become Duchess of Nemours by a second marriage, and her son Henry de Guise, a young man of twenty-two. They were bothconvinced that Coligny had egged on Poltrot to murder Duke Francis, andthey had sworn to exact vengeance. Being informed of the queen-mother'sand the Duke of Anjou's intention, they entered into it eagerly; theyoung Duke of Guise believed his mother quite capable of striking downthe admiral in the very midst of one of the great assemblies at court;the fair ladies of the sixteenth century were adepts in handling daggerand pistol. In default of the Duchess of Nemours, her son was thought offor getting rid of Coligny. "It was at one time decided, " says the Dukede Bouillon in his Memoires, "that M. De Guise should kill the admiralduring a tilt-at-the-ring which the king gave in the garden of theLouvre, and in which all Messieurs were to lead sides. I was on that ofthe duke, who was believed to have an understanding with the admiral. Onthis occasion, it was so managed that our dresses were not ready, and thelate duke and his side did not tilt at all. The resolution against theadmiral was changed prudently; inasmuch as it was very perilous, for theperson of the king and of Messieurs, to have determined to kill him inthat place, there being present more than four hundred gentlemen of thereligion, who might have gone very far in case of an assault upon thatlord, who was so much beloved by them. " Everything considered, it wasthought more expedient to employ for the purpose an inferior agent;Catherine and the Duke of Anjou sent for a Gascon captain, a dependant ofthe house of Lorraine, whom they knew to be resolute and devoted. "We had him shown the means he should adopt, " says the Duke of Anjou, "in attacking him whom we had in our eye; but, having well scanned him, himself and his movements, and his speech and his looks, which had madeus laugh and afforded us good pastime, we considered him too hare-brainedand too much of a wind-bag to deal the blow well. " They then applied toan officer "of practice and experience in murder, " Charles de Louviers, Sieur de Maurevert, who was called the king's slaughterman (_le tueur duroi_), because he had already rendered such a service, and they agreedwith him as to all the circumstances of place, time, and procedure mostlikely to secure the success of the deed, whilst giving the murdererchances of escape. 

In such situations there is scarcely any project the secret of which isso well kept that there does not get abroad some rumor to warn anobservant mind; and when it is the fate of a religious or a popular herothat is in question, there is never any want of devoted friends orservants about him, ready to take alarm for him. When Coligny mountedhis horse to go from Chatillon to Paris, a poor countrywoman on hisestates threw herself before him, sobbing, "Ah! sir, ah! our good master, you are going to destruction; I shall never see you again if once you goto Paris; you will die there, you and all those who go with-you. " AtParis, on the approach of the St. Bartholomew, the admiral heard thatsome of his gentlemen were going away. "They treat you too well here, "said one of them, Langoiran, to him; "better to be saved with the foolsthan lost for the sake of being thought over-wise. " "The admiral wasbeset by letters which reminded him of the queen-mother's crooked ways, and the detestable education of the king, trained to every sort ofviolence and horrible sin; his Bible is Macchiavelli; he has beenprepared by the blood of beasts for the shedding of human blood; he hasbeen persuaded that a prince is not bound to observe an edict extorted byhis subjects. " To all these warnings Coligny replied at one time byaffirming the king's good faith, and at another by saying, "I wouldrather be dragged dead through the muck-heaps of Paris than go back tocivil war. " This great soul had his seasons, not of doubt as to hisfaith or discouragement as to his cause, but of profound sorrow at theatrocious or shameful spectacles and the public or private woes which hadto be gone through. 

Charles IX. Himself felt some disquietude as to the meeting of the Guisesand Coligny at his court. The Guises had quitted it before the 18th ofAugust, the day fixed for the marriage of King Henry of Navarre withMarguerite de Valois. When the marriage was over, they were to return, and they did. At the moment of their returning, the king said toColigny, with demonstrations of the most sincere friendship, "You know, my dear father, the promise you made me not to insult any of the Guisesas long as you remained at court. On their side, they have given metheir word that they will have for you, and all the gentry of yourfollowing, the consideration you deserve. I rely entirely upon yourword, but I have not so much confidence in theirs; I know that they areonly looking for an opportunity of letting their vengeance burst forth; Iknow their bold and haughty character; as they have the people of Parisdevoted to them, and as, on coming hither, under pretext of therejoicings at my sister's marriage, they have brought a numerous body ofwell-armed soldiers, I should be inconsolable if they were to takeanything in hand against you; such an outrage would recoil upon me. Thatbeing so, if you think as I do, I believe the best thing for me is toorder into the city the regiment of guards, with such and such captains(he mentioned none but those who were not objects of suspicion toColigny); this re-enforcement, " added the king, "will secure publictranquillity, and, if the factious make any disturbance, there will bemen to oppose to them. " The admiral assented to the king's proposal. Headded that he was ready to declare "that never had he been guilty orapproving of the death of Duke Francis of Guise, and that he set down asa calumniator and a scoundrel whoever said, that he had authorized it. "Though frequently going to the palace, both he and the Guises, they hadnot spoken when they met. Charles had promised the Lorraine princes "notto force them to make friends with Coligny more than was agreeable tothem. " He believed that he had taken every precaution necessary tomaintain in his court, for some time at least, the peace he desired. 

On Friday, the 22d of August, 1572, Coligny was returning on foot fromthe Louvre to the Rue des Fosses--St. -Germain-l'Auxerrois, where helived; he was occupied in reading a letter which he had just received;a shot, fired from the window of a house in the cloister ofSt. Germain-l'Auxerrois, smashed two fingers of his right hand andlodged a ball in his left arm; he raised his eyes, pointed out with hisinjured hand the house whence the shot had come, and reached hisquarters on foot. Two gentlemen who were in attendance upon him rushedto seize the murderer; it was too late; Maurevert had been lodging thereand on the watch for three days at the house of a canon, an old tutor tothe Duke of Guise; a horse from the duke's stable was waiting for him atthe back of the house; and, having done his job, he departed at agallop. He was pursued for several leagues without being overtaken. 

Coligny sent to apprise the king of what had just happened to him. "There, " said he, "was a fine proof of fidelity to the agreement betweenhim and the Duke of Guise. " "I shall never have rest, then!" criedCharles, breaking the stick with which he was playing tennis with theDuke of Guise and Teligny, the admiral's son-in-law; and he immediatelyreturned to his room. The Duke of Guise took himself off without a word. Teligny speedily joined his father-in-law. Ambrose Pare had alreadyattended to him, cutting off the two broken fingers; somebody expressed afear that the balls might have been poisoned. "It will be as God pleasesas to that, " said Coligny; and, turning towards the minister, Merlin, whohad hurried to him, he added, "pray that He may grant me the gift ofperseverance. " Towards midday, Marshals de Damville, De Cosse, and DeVillars went to see him "out of pure friendship, " they told him, "and notto exhort him to endure his mishap with patience: we know that you willnot lack patience. " "I do protest to you, " said Coligny, "that deathaffrights me not; it is of God that I hold my life; when He requires itback from me, I am quite ready to give it up. But I should very muchlike to see the king before I die; I have to speak to him of things whichconcern his person and the welfare of his state, and which I feel surenone of you would dare to tell him of. " "I will go and inform hisMajesty, . . . " rejoined Damville; and he went out with Villars andTeligny, leaving Marshal de Cosse in the room. "Do you remember, " saidColigny to him, "the warnings I gave you a few hours ago? You will dowell to take your precautions. "

About two P. M. , the king, the queen-mother, and the Dukes of Anjou andAlencon, her two other sons, with many of their high officers, repairedto the admiral's. "My dear father, " said the king, as he went in, "thehurt is yours; the grief and the outrage mine; but I will take suchvengeance that it shall never be forgotten;" to which he added his usualimprecations. "Then the admiral, who lay in bed sorely wounded, " saysthe Duke of Anjou himself, in his account of this interview, "requestedthat he might speak privately to the king, which the king grantedreadily, making a sign to the queen my mother, and to me, to withdraw, which we did incontinently into the middle of the room, where we remainedstanding during this secret colloquy, which caused us great misgiving. We saw ourselves surrounded by more than two hundred gentlemen andcaptains of the admiral's party, who were in the room and anotheradjoining, and, besides, in a ball below, the which, with sad faces andthe gestures and bearing of malcontents, were whispering in one another'sears, frequently passing and repasssing before and behind us, not with somuch honor and respect as they ought to have done, and as if they hadsome suspicion that we had somewhat to do with the admiral's hurt. Wewere seized with astonishment and fear at seeing ourselves shut in there, as my mother has since many times confessed to me, saying that she hadnever been in any place where there was so much cause for fright, andwhence she had gone away with more relief and pleasure. Thisapprehension caused us to speedily break in upon the conversation theadmiral was having with the king, under a polite excuse invented by thequeen my mother, who, approaching the king, said out loud that she had noidea he would make the admiral talk so much, and that she saw quite wellthat his physicians and surgeons considered it bad for him, as itcertainly was very dangerous, and enough to throw him into a fever, whichwas, above everything, to be guarded against. She begged the king to putoff the rest of their conversation to another time, when the admiral wasbetter. This vexed the king mightily, for he was very anxious to hearthe remainder of what the admiral had to say to him. However, he beingunable to gainsay so specious an argument, we got the king away. Andincontinently the queen-mother (and I too) begged the king to let us knowthe secret conversation which the admiral had held with him, and in whichhe had been unwilling that we should be participators; which the kingrefused several times to do. But finding himself importuned and hardpressed by us, he told us abruptly and with displeasure, swearing byGod's death that what the admiral said was true, that kings realizedthemselves as such in France only in so far as they had the 'power ofdoing harm or good to their subjects and servants, and that this powerand management of affairs had slipped imperceptibly into the hands of thequeen my mother and mine. ' 'This superintendent domination, the admiraltold me, might some day be very prejudicial to me and to all my kingdom, and that I should hold it in suspicion and beware of it; of which he wasanxious to warn me, as one of my best and most faithful subjects, beforehe died. There, God's death, as you wish to know, is what the admiralsaid to me. ' This, said as it was with passion and fury, went straighthome to our hearts, which we concealed as best we might, both of us, however, defending ourselves in the matter. We continued thisconversation all the way from the admiral's quarters to the Louvre, where, having left the king in his room, we retired to that of the queenmy mother, who was piqued and hurt to the utmost degree at this languageused by the admiral to the king, as well as at the credence which theking seemed to accord to it, and was fearful lest it should bring aboutsome change and alteration in our affairs and in the management of thestate. Being unable to resolve upon any course at the moment, weretired, putting off the question till the morrow, when I went to see mymother, who was already up. I had a fine racket in my head, and so hadshe, and for the time there was no decision come to save to have theadmiral despatched by some means or other. It being impossible anylonger to employ stratagems and artifices, it would have to be doneopenly, and the king brought round to that way of thinking. We agreedthat, in the afternoon, we would go and pay him a visit in his closet, whither we would get the Sieur de Nevers, Marshals de Tavannes and deRetz, and Chancellor de Birague to come, merely to have their opinion asto the means to be adopted for the execution, which we had alreadydetermined upon, my mother and I. "

On Saturday, the 23d of August, in the afternoon, the queen-mother, theDuke of Anjou, Marshals do Tavannes and de Retz, the Duke of Nevers, andthe Chancellor de Birague met in the king's closet, who was irresoluteand still talking of exacting from the Guises heavy vengeance for themurderous attack upon Coligny. Catherine "represented to him that theparty of the Huguenots had already seized this occasion for taking uparms against him; they had sent, " she said, "several despatches toGermany to procure a levy of ten thousand reiters, and to the cantons ofthe Swiss for another levy of ten thousand foot; the French captains, partisans of the Huguenots, had already, most of them, set out to raiselevies within the kingdom time and place of meeting had already beenassigned and determined. All the Catholics, on their side, " addedCatherine, "disgusted with so long a war and harassed by so many kinds ofcalamities, have resolved to put a stop to them; they have decidedamongst them to elect a captain-general, to form a league offensive anddefensive against the Huguenots. The whole of France would thus be seenarmed and divided into two great parties, between which the king wouldremain isolated, without any command and with about as much obedience. For so much ruin and calamity in anticipation and already within afinger's reach, and for the slaughter of so many thousands of men, apreventive may be found in a single sword-thrust; all that is necessaryis to kill the admiral, the head and front of all the civil wars; thedesigns and the enterprises of the Huguenots will die with him, and theCatholics, satisfied with the sacrifice of two or three men, will remainforever in obedience to the king. . . . " "At the beginning, " continuesthe Duke of Anjou, in his account, "the king would not by any meansconsent to have the admiral touched; feeling, however, some fear of thedanger which we had so well depicted and represented, to him, he desiredthat, in a case of such importance, every one should at once state hisopinion. " When each of those present had spoken, the king appeared stillundecided. The queen-mother then resolved "to let him hear the truth intoto from Marshal de Retz, from whom she knew that he would take itbetter than from any other, " says his sister Marguerite de Valois in herMemoires, "as one who was more in his confidence and favor than anyother. The which came to see him in the evening, about nine or ten, andtold him that, as his faithful servant, he could not conceal from him thedanger he was in if he were to abide by his resolution to do justice onM. De Guise, because it was necessary that he should know that the attackupon the admiral was not M. De Guise's doing alone, but that my brotherHenry, the King of Poland, afterwards King of France, and the queen mymother, had been concerned in it; which M. De Guise and his friends wouldnot fail to reveal, and which would place his Majesty in a position ofgreat danger and embarrassment. " Towards midnight, the queen-mother wentdown to the king, followed by her son Henry and four other councillors. They found the king more put out than ever. The conversation beganagain, and resolved itself into a regular attack upon the king. "TheGuises, " he was told, "will denounce the king himself, together with hismother and brother; the Huguenots will believe that the king was inconcert with the party, and they will take the whole royal family totask. War is inevitable. Better to win a battle in Paris, where we holdall the chiefs in our clutches, than put it to hazard in the field. After a struggle of an hour and a half, Charles, in a violent state ofagitation, still hesitated; when the queen-mother, fearing lest, if therewere further delay, all would be discovered, said to him, 'Permit me andyour brother, sir, to retire to some other part of the kingdom. ' Charlesrose from his seat. 'By God's death, ' said he, 'since you think properto kill the admiral, I consent; but all the Huguenots in Paris as well, in order that there remain not one to reproach me afterwards. Give theorders at once. '" And he went back into his room. 

In order to relieve and satisfy her own passions and those of herfavorite son, which were fear and love of power, the queen-mother hadsucceeded in working her king-son into a fit of weakness and mad anger. Anxious to profit by it, "she gave orders on the instant for the signal, which was not to have been given until an hour before daybreak, " says DeThou, "and, instead of the bell at the Palace of Justice, the tocsin wassounded by the bell of St. -Germain-Auxerrois, which was nearer. "

Even before the king had given his formal consent, the projectors of theoutrage had carefully prepared for its execution; they had apportionedout amongst themselves or to their agents the different quarters of thecity. The Guises had reserved for themselves that in which theyconsidered they had personal vengeance as well as religious enmity tosatisfy, the neighborhood of St. -Germain-l'Auxerrois, and especially Ruede Bethisy and Rue des Fosses-St. -Germain. Awakened by the noise aroundhis house, and, before long, by arquebuse-shots fired in his court-yard, Coligny understood what was going to happen; he jumped out of bed, put onhis dressing-gown, and, as he stood leaning against the wall, he said tothe clergyman, Merlin, who was sitting up with him, "M. Merlin, say me aprayer; I commit my soul to my Saviour. " One of his gentlemen, Cornaton, entered the room. "What is the meaning of this riot?" asked AmbrosePare, who had also remained with the admiral. 

"My lord, " said Cornaton to Coligny, "it is God calling us. " "I havelong been ready to die, " said the admiral; "but you, my friends, saveyourselves, if it is still possible. " All ran up stairs and escaped, themajority by the roof; a German servant, Nicholas Muss, alone remainedwith the admiral, "as little concerned, " says Cornaton, "as if there werenothing going on around him. " The door of his room was forced. Two men, servants of the Guises, entered first. One of them, Behme, attached tothe Duke of Guise's own person, came forward, saying, "Art thou not theadmiral?" "Young man, " said Coligny, "thou comest against a wounded andan aged man. Thou'lt not shorten my life by much. " Behme plunged intohis stomach a huge pointed boar-spear which he had in his hand, and thenstruck him on the head with it. Coligny fell, saying, "If it were but aman! But 'tis a horse-boy. " Others came in and struck him in theirturn. "Behme!" shouted the Duke of Guise from the court-yard, "hastdone?" "'Tis all over, my lord, " was the answer; and the murderers threwthe body out of the window, where it stuck for an instant, eitheraccidentally or voluntarily, and as if to defend a last remnant of life. Then it fell. The two great lords, who were waiting for it, turned overthe corpse, wiped the blood off the face, and said, "Faith, 'tis he, sureenough. "

[Illustration: Henry de Guise and the Corpse of Coligny----369]

Some have said that Guise gave him a kick in the face. A servant of theDuke of Nevers cut off the head, and took it to the queen-mother, theking, and the Duke of Anjou. It was embalmed with care, to be sent, itis said, to Rome. What is certain is that, a few days afterwards, Mandelot, governor of Lyons, wrote to the king, "I have received, sir, the letter your Majesty was pleased to write to me, whereby you tell methat you have been advertised that there is a man who has set out fromover yonder with the head he took from the admiral after killing him, forto convey it to Rome, and to take care, when the said man arrives in thiscity, to have him arrested, and to take from him the said head. Whereupon I incontinently gave such strict orders, that, if he presentshimself, the command which it pleases your Majesty to lay upon me will beacted upon. There hath not passed, for these last few days, by way ofthis city, any person going Romewards save a squire of the Duke ofGuise's, named Paule, the which had departed four hours previously on thesame day on which I received the said letter from your Majesty. "

We do not find anywhere, in reference to this incident, any informationgoing further than this reply of the governor of Lyons to Charles IX. However it may be, the remains of Coligny's body, after having been hungand exposed for some days on the gibbet of Montfaucon, were removed byDuke Francis de Montmorency, the admiral's relative and friend, who hadthem transferred to Chantilly and interred in the chapel of the castle. After having been subjected, in the course of three centuries, at onetime to oblivion and at others to divers transferences, these sad relicsof a great man, a great Christian, and a great patriot, have beenresting, for the last two and twenty years, in the very castle ofChatillon-sur-Loing, his ancestors' own domain having once more becomethe property of a relative of his family, the Duke of Luxembourg, to whomCount Anatole de Montesquiou transferred them, and who, in 1851, had themsealed up in a bit of wall in ruins, at the foot of an old tower, underthe site of the bed-chamber of the Duchesses of Chatillon, where, in allprobability, Coligny was born. The more tardy the homage, the greater. 

The actual murderers of Coligny, the real projectors of theSt. Bartholomew, Catherine de' Medici and her son the Duke of Anjou, atthe very moment when they had just ordered the massacre, were seized withaffright at the first sound of their crime. The Duke of Anjou finisheshis story with this page "After but two hours' rest during the night, just as the day was beginning to break, the king, the queen my mother, and I went to the frontal of the Louvre, adjoining the tennis-court, intoa room which looks upon the area of the stable-yard, to see thecommencement of the work. We had not been there long when, as we wereweighing the issues and the consequence of so great an enterprise, onwhich, sooth to say, we had up to that time scarcely bestowed a thought, we heard a pistol-shot fired. I could not say in what spot, or whetherit knocked over anybody; but well know I that the sound wounded all threeof us so deeply in spirit that it knocked over our senses and judgment, stricken with terror and apprehension at the great troubles which werethen about to set in. To prevent them, we sent a gentleman at once andwith all haste to M. De Guise, to tell him and command him expressly fromus to retire into his quarters, and be very careful to take no stepsagainst the admiral, this single command putting a stop to everythingelse, because it had been determined that in no spot in the city shouldany steps be taken until, as a preliminary, the admiral had been killed. But soon afterwards the gentleman returning told us that M. De Guise hadanswered him that the command came too late, that the admiral was dead, and the work was begun throughout the rest of the city. So we went backto our original determination, and let ourselves follow the thread andthe course of the enterprise. "

The enterprise, in fact, followed its thread and natural course withoutits being in the power of anybody to arrest or direct it. It had beenabsolutely necessary to give information of it the evening before to theprovost of tradesmen of Paris, Le Charron, president in the court oftaxation (Board of Excise), and to the chief men of the city. Accordingto Brantome, "they made great difficulties and imported conscience intothe matter; but M. De Tavannes, in the king's presence, rebuked themstrongly, and threatened them that, if they did not make themselves busy, the king would have them hanged. The poor devils, unable to do aughtelse, thereupon answered, 'Ha! is that the way you take it, sir, and you, monsieur? We swear to you that you shall hear news thereof, for we willply our hands so well right and left that the memory shall abide foreverof a right well kept St. Bartholomew. '" "Wherein they did not fail, "continues Brantome, "but they did not like it at first. " According toother reports, the first opposition of the provost of tradesmen, LeCharron, was not without effect; it was not till the next day that he letthe orders he had received take their course; and it was necessary toapply to his predecessor in his office, the ex-provost Marcel, a creatureof the queen-mother's, to set in motion the turbulent and the fanaticalamongst the populace, "which it never does to 'blood, ' for it isafterwards more savage than is desirable. " Once let loose upon theSt. Bartholomew, the Parisian populace was eager indeed, but not alone inits eagerness, for the work of massacre; the gentlemen of the court tookpart in it passionately, from a spirit of vengeance, from religioushatred, from the effect of smelling blood, from covetousness at theprospect of confiscations at hand. Teligny, the admiral's son-in-law, had taken refuge on a roof; the Duke of Anjou's guards make him a markfor their arquebuses. La Rochefoucauld, with whom the king had beenlaughing and joking up to eleven o'clock the evening before, heard aknocking at his door, in the king's name; it is opened; enter six men inmasks and poniard him. The new Queen of Navarre, Marguerite de Valois, had gone to bed by express order of her mother Catherine. "Just as I wasasleep, " says she, "behold a man knocking with feet and hands at the doorand shouting, Navarre! Navarre! My nurse, thinking it was the king myhusband, runs quickly to the door and opens it. It was a gentleman namedM. De Leran, who had a sword-cut on the elbow, a gash from a halberd onthe arm, and was still pursued by four archers, who all came after himinto my bedroom. He, wishing to save himself, threw himself on to mybed; as for me, feeling this man who had hold of me, I threw myself outof bed towards the wall, and he after me, still holding me round thebody. I did not know this man, and I could not tell whether he had comethither to offer me violence, or whether the archers were after him inparticular, or after me. We both screamed, and each of us was as muchfrightened as the other. At last it pleased God that M. De Nanqay, captain of the guards, came in, who, finding me in this plight, though hefelt compassion, could not help laughing; and, flying into a great ragewith the archers for this indiscretion, he made them begone, and gave methe life of that poor man who had hold of me, whom I had put to bed andattended to in my closet, until he was well. "

[Illustration: The Queen of Navarre and the Huguenot----372]

We might multiply indefinitely these anecdotical scenes of the massacre, most of them brutally ferocious, others painfully pathetic, some generousand calculated to preserve the credit of humanity amidst one of its mostdireful aberrations. History must show no pity for the vices and crimesof men, whether princes or people; and it is her duty as well as herright to depict them so truthfully that men's souls and imaginations maybe sufficiently impressed by them to conceive disgust and horror at them;but it is not by dwelling upon them and by describing them minutely, asif she had to exhibit a gallery of monsters and madmen, that history canlead men's minds to sound judgments and salutary impressions; it isnecessary to have moral sense and good sense always in view, and set highabove great social troubles, just as sailors, to struggle courageouslyagainst the tempest, need to see a luminous corner where the sky isvisible, and a star which reveals to them the port. We take no pleasure, and we see no use, in setting forth in detail the works of evil; weshould be inclined to fear that, by familiarity with such a spectacle, men would lose the perception of good, and cease to put hope in itslegitimate and ultimate superiority. Nor will we pause either to discussthe secondary questions which meet us at the period of which we aretelling the story; for example, the question whether Charles IX. Firedwith his own hand on his Protestant subjects whom he had delivered overto the evil passions of the aristocracy and of the populace, or whetherthe balcony from which he is said to have indulged in this ferociouspastime existed at that time, in the sixteenth century, at the palace ofthe Louvre, and overlooking the Seine. These questions are not withouthistoric interest, and it is well for learned men to study them; but weconsider them incapable of being resolved with certainty; and, even werethey resolved, they would not give the key to the character of CharlesIX. And to the portion which appertains to him in the deed of crueltywith which his name remains connected. The great historic fact of theSt. Bartholomew is what we confine ourselves to; and we have attempted todepict it accurately as regards Charles IX. 's hesitations and equallyfeverish resolutions, his intermixture of open-heartedness anddouble-dealing in his treatment of Coliguy, towards whom he felt himselfdrawn without quite understanding him, and his puerile weakness inpresence of his mother, whom he feared far more than he trusted. When hehad plunged into the orgies of the massacre, when, after having said, "Kill them all!" he had seen the slaughter of his companions in his royalamusements, Teligny and La Rochefoucauld, Charles IX. Abandoned himselfto a fit of mad passion. He was asked whether the two young Huguenotprinces, Henry of Navarre and Henry de Conde, were to be killed also;Marshal de Retz had been in favor of it; Marshal de Tavannes had beenopposed to it; and it was decided to spare them. On the very night ofthe St. Bartholomew, the king sent for them both. "I mean for thefuture, " said he, "to have but one religion in my kingdom; the mass ordeath; make your choice. " Henry of Navarre reminded the king of hispromises, and asked for time to consider; Henry de Conde "answered thathe would remain firm in the true religion though he should have to giveup his life for it. " "Seditious madman, rebel, and son of a rebel, " saidCharles, "if within three days you do not change your language, I willhave you strangled. " At this first juncture, the king saved from themassacre none but his surgeon, Ambrose Pare, and his nurse, bothHuguenots; on the very night after the murder of Coligny, he sent forAmbrose Pare into his chamber, and made him go into his wardrobe, saysBrantome, "ordering him not to stir, and saying that it was notreasonable that one who was able to be of service to a whole little worldshould be thus massacred. " A few days afterwards, "Now, " said the kingto Pare, "you really must be a Catholic. " "By God's light, " answeredPars, "I think you must surely remember, sir, to have promised me, inorder that I might never disobey you, never, on the other hand, to bid medo four things--find my way back into my mother's womb, catch myselffighting in a battle, leave your service, or go to mass. " After amoment's silence Charles rejoined, "Ambrose, I don't know what has comeover me for the last two or three days, but I feel my mind and my bodygreatly excited, in fact, just as if I had a fever; meseems every moment, just as much waking as sleeping, that those massacred corpses keepappearing to me with their faces all hideous and covered with blood. Iwish the helpless and the innocent had not been included. " "And inconsequence of the reply made to him, " adds Sully in his (_Economiesroyales_ t. I. P. 244, in the Petitot collection), "he next day issuedhis orders, prohibiting, on pain of death, any slaying or plundering; thewhich were, nevertheless, very ill observed, the animosities and fury ofthe populace being too much inflamed to defer to them. "

The historians, Catholic or Protestant, contemporary or researchful, differ widely as to the number of the victims in this cruel massacre;according to De Thou, there were about two thousand persons killed inParis the first day; D'Aubigne says three thousand; Brantome speaks offour thousand bodies that Charles IX. Might have seen floating down theSeine; La Popeliniere reduces them to one thousand. There is to befound, in the account-books of the city of Paris, a payment to thegrave-diggers of the cemetery of the Innocents for having interred elevenhundred dead bodies stranded at the turns of the Seine near Chaillot, Auteuil, and St. Cloud; it is probable that many corpses were carriedstill farther, and the corpses were not all thrown into the river. Theuncertainty is still greater when one comes to speak of the number ofvictims throughout the whole of France; De Thou estimates it at thirtythousand, Sully at seventy thousand, Perefixe, Archbishop of Paris in theseventeenth century, raises it to one hundred thousand; Papirius Massonand Davila reduce it to ten thousand, without clearly distinguishingbetween the massacre of Paris and those of the provinces; otherhistorians fix upon forty thousand. Great uncertainty also prevails asto the execution of the orders issued from Paris to the governors at theprovinces; the names of the Viscount d'Orte, governor of Bayonne, and ofJohn le Hennuyer, Bishop of Lisieux, have become famous from their havingrefused to take part in the massacre; but the authenticity of the letterfrom the Viscount d'Orte to Charles IX. Is disputed, though the fact ofhis resistance appears certain; and as for the bishop, John le Hennuyer, M. De Formeville seems to us to have demonstrated in his _Histoire del'ancien Eveche-comte de Lisieux_ (t. Ii. Pp. 299-314), "that there wasno occasion to save the Protestants of Lisieux, in 1572, because they didnot find themselves in any danger of being massacred, and that the meritof it cannot be attributed to anybody, to the bishop, Le Hennuyer, anymore than to Captain Fumichon, governor of the town. It was only thegeneral course of events and the discretion of the municipal officers ofLisieux that did it all. " One thing which is quite true, and which it isgood to call to mind in the midst of so great a general criminality, isthat, at many spots in France, it met with a refusal to be associated init; President Jeannin at Dijon, the Count de Tende in Provence, Philibertde la Guiche at Macon, Tanneguy le Veneur de Carrouge at Rouen, the Countde Gordes in Dauphiny, and many other chiefs, military or civil, openlyrepudiated the example set by the murderers of Paris; and the municipalbody of Nantes, a very Catholic town, took upon this subject, as has beenproved from authentic documents by M. Vaurigaud, pastor of the ReformedChurch at Nantes [in his _Essai sur l'Histoire des Eglises reformees deBretagne, _ t. I. Pp. 190-194], a resolution which does honor to itspatriotic firmness as well as to its Christian loyalty. 

[Illustration: Chancellor Michael de l'Hospital----376]

A great, good man, a great functionary, and a great scholar, in disgracefor six years past, the Chancellor Michael de l'Hospital, received aboutthis time, in his retreat at Vignay, a visit from a great philosopher, Michael de Montaigne, "anxious, " said the visitor, "to come and testifyto you the honor and reverence with which I regard your competence andthe special qualities which are in you; for, as to the extraneous and thefortuitous, it is not to my taste to put them down in the account. "Montaigne chose a happy moment for disregarding all but the personal, andspecial qualities of the chancellor; shortly after his departure, L'Hospital was warned that some sinister-looking horsemen were coming, and that he would do well to take care of himself. "No matter, nomatter, " he answered; "it will be as God pleases when my hour has come. "Next day he was told that those men were approaching his house, and hewas asked whether he would not have the gates shut against them, and havethem fired upon, in case they attempted to force an entrance. "No, " saidhe, "if the small gate will not do for them to enter by, let the big onebe opened. " A few hours afterwards, L'Hospital was informed that theking and the queen-mother were sending other horsemen to protect him. "I didn't know, " said the old man, "that I had deserved either death orpardon. " A rumor of his death flew abroad amongst his enemies, whorejoiced at it. "We are told, " wrote Cardinal Granvelle to his agent atBrussels (October 8, 1572), "that the king has had Chancellor del'Hospital and his wife despatched, which would be a great blessing. "The agent, more enlightened than his chief, denied the fact, adding, "They are a fine bit of rubbish left, L'Hospital and his wife. " CharlesIX. Wrote to his old adviser to reassure him, "loving you as I do. " Sometime after, however, he demanded of him his resignation of the title ofchancellor, wishing to confer it upon La Birague, to reward him for hisco-operation in the St. Bartholomew. L'Hospital gave in his resignationon the 1st of February, 1573, and died six weeks afterwards, on the 18thof March. "I am just at the end of my long journey, and shall have nomore business but with God, " he wrote to the king and the queen-mother. "I implore Him to give you His grace, and to lead you with His hand inall your affairs, and in the government of this great and beautifulkingdom which He hath committed to your keeping, with all gentleness andclemency towards your good subjects, in imitation of Himself, who is goodand, patient in bearing our burdens, and prompt to forgive you and pardonyou everything. "

From the 24th to the 31st of August, 1572, the bearing and conduct ofCharles IX. And the queen-mother produced nothing but a confused mass oforders and counter-orders, affirmations and denials, words and actionsincoherent and contradictory, all caused by a habit of lying and thedesire of escaping from the peril or embarrassment of the moment. On thevery first day of the massacre, about midday, the provost of tradesmenand the sheriffs, who had not taken part in the "Paris matins, " camecomplaining to the king "of the pillage, sack, and murder which werebeing committed by many belonging to the suite of his Majesty, as well asto those of the princes, princesses, and lords of the court, by noblemen, archers, and soldiers of the guard, as well as by all sorts of gentry andpeople mixed with them and under their wing. " Charles ordered them "toget on horseback, take with them all the forces in the city, and keeptheir eyes open day and night to put a stop to the said murder, pillage, and sedition arising, " he said, "because of the rivalry between thehouses of Guise and Chatillon, and because they of Guise had beenthreatened by the admiral's friends, who suspected them of being at thebottom of the hurt inflicted upon him. " He, the same day, addressed tothe governors of the provinces a letter in which he invested thedisturbance with the same character, and gave the same explanation of it. The Guises complained violently at being thus disavowed by the king, whohad the face to throw upon them alone the odium of the massacre which hehad ordered. Next day, August 25, the king wrote to all his agents, athome and abroad, another letter, affirming that "what had happened atParis had been done solely to prevent the execution of an accursedconspiracy which the admiral and his allies had concocted against him, his mother, and his brothers;" and, on the 26th of August, he went withhis two brothers to hold in state a bed of justice, and make to theParliament the same declaration against Coligny and his party. "He couldnot, " he said, "have parried so fearful a blow but by another veryviolent one; and he wished all the world to know that what had happenedat Paris had been done not only with his consent, but by his expresscommand. " Whereupon it was enjoined upon the court, says De Thou, "tocause investigations to be made as to the conspiracy of Coligny, and todecree what it should consider proper, conformably with the laws and withjustice. " The next day but one, August 28, appeared a royal manifestorunning, "The king willeth and intendeth that all noblemen and otherswhosoever of the religion styled Reformed be empowered to live and abidein all security and liberty, with their wives, children, and families, intheir houses, as they have heretofore done and were empowered to do bybenefit of the edicts of pacification. And nevertheless, for to obviatethe troubles, scandals, suspicion, and distrust, which might arise byreason of the services and assemblies that might take place both in thehouses of the said noblemen and elsewhere, as is permitted by theaforesaid edicts of pacification, his Majesty doth lay very expressinhibitions and prohibitions upon all the said noblemen and others of thesaid religion against holding assemblies, on any account whatsoever, until that, by the said lord the king, after having provided for thetranquillity of his kingdom, it be otherwise ordained. And that, on painof confiscation of body and goods in case of disobedience. "

These tardy and lying accusations officially brought against Coligny andhis friends; these promises of liberty and security for the Protestants, renewed in the terms of the edicts of pacification, and, in point offact, annulled at the very moment at which they were being renewed; themassacre continuing here and there in France, at one time with the secretconnivance and at another notwithstanding the publicly-given word of theking and the queen-mother; all this policy, at one and the same timeviolent and timorous, incoherent and stubborn, produced amongst theProtestants two contrary effects: some grew frightened, others angry. At court, under the direct influence of the king and his surroundings, "submission to the powers that be" prevailed; many fled; others, withoutabjuring their religion, abjured their party. The two Reformer-princes, Henry of Navarre and Henry de Conde, attended mass on the 29th ofSeptember, and, on the 3d of October, wrote to the pope, deploring theirerrors and giving hopes of their conversion. Far away from Paris, in themountains of the Pyrenees and of Languedoc, in the towns where theReformers were numerous and confident, at Sancerre, at Montauban, atNimes, at La Rochelle, the spirit of resistance carried the day. Anassembly, meeting at Milhau, drew up a provisional ordinance for thegovernment of the Reformed church, "until it please God, who has thehearts of kings in His keeping, to change that of King Charles IX. Andrestore the state of France to good order, or to raise up suchneighboring prince as is manifestly marked out, by his virtue and bydistinguishing signs, for to be the liberator of this poor afflictedpeople. " In November, 1572, the fourth religious war broke out. Thesiege of La Rochelle was its only important event. Charles IX. And hiscouncillors exerted themselves in vain to avoid it. There was everythingto disquiet them in this enterprise: so sudden a revival of the religiouswar after the grand blow they had just struck, the passionate energymanifested by the Protestants in asylum at La Rochelle, and the help theyhad been led to hope for from Queen Elizabeth, whom England would neverhave forgiven for indifference in this cause. Marshal de Biron, who wasknown to favor the Reformers, was appointed governor of La Rochelle; buthe could not succeed in gaining admittance within the walls, even aloneand for the purpose of parleying with the inhabitants. The king heardthat one of the bravest Protestant chiefs, La Noue _Ironarm, _ had retiredto Mons with Prince Louis of Nassau. The Duke of Longueville, his oldenemy, induced him to go to Paris. The king received him with greatfavor, gave up to him the property of Teligny, whose sister La Noue hadmarried, and pressed him to go to La Rochelle and prevail upon theinhabitants to keep the peace. La Noue refused, saying that he was notat all fitted for this commission. The king promised that he would asknothing of him which could wound his honor. La Noue at last consented, and repaired, about the end of November, 1572, to a village close by LaRochelle, whither it was arranged that deputies from the town would comeand confer with him. And they came, in fact, but at their first meeting, "We are come, " they said, "to confer with M. De La Noue, but we do notsee him here. " La Noue got angry. "I am astonished, " he said, "that youhave so soon forgotten one who has received so many wounds and lost anarm fighting for you. " "Yes, there is a M. De La Noue, who was one ofus, and who bravely defended our cause; but he never flattered us withvain hopes, he never invited us to conferences to betray us. " La Nouegot more fiercely angry. "All I ask of you is, to report to the senatewhat I have to say to them. " They complied, and came back withpermission for him to enter the town. The people looked at him, as hepassed, with a mixture of distrust and interest. After hearing him, thesenate rejected the pacific overtures made to them by La Noue. "We haveno mind to treat specially and for ourselves alone; our cause is that ofGod and of all the churches of France; we will accept nothing but whatshall seem proper to all our brethren. For yourself, we give you yourchoice between three propositions: remain in our town as a simpleburgess, and we will give you quarters; if you like better to be ourcommandant, all the nobility and the people will gladly have you fortheir head, and will fight with confidence under your orders; if neitherof these propositions suits you, you shall be welcome to go aboard one ofour vessels and cross over to England, where you will find many of yourfriends. " La Noue did not hesitate; he became, under the authority ofthe mayor Jacques Henri, the military head of La Rochelle, whitherCharles IX. Had sent him to make peace. The king authorized him toaccept this singular position. La Noue conducted himself so honorably init, and everybody was so convinced of his good faith as well as bravery, that for three months he commanded inside La Rochelle, and superintendedthe preparations for defence, all the while trying to make the chances ofpeace prevail. At the end of February, 1573, he recognized theimpossibility of his double commission, and he went away from LaRochelle, leaving the place in better condition than that in which he hadfound it, without either king or Rochellese considering that they had anyright to complain of him. 

Biron first and then the Duke of Anjou in person took the command of thesiege. They brought up, it is said, forty thousand men and sixty piecesof artillery. The Rochellese, for defensive strength, had but twenty-twocompanies of refugees or inhabitants, making in all thirty-one hundredmen. The siege lasted from the 26th of February to the 13th of June, 1573; six assaults were made on the place; in the last, the ladders hadbeen set at night against the wall of what was called Gospel bastion; theDuke of Guise, at the head of the assailants, had escaladed the breach, but there he discovered a new ditch and a new rampart erected inside;and, confronted by these unforeseen obstacles, the men recoiled and fellback. La Rochelle was saved. Charles IX. Was more and more desirous ofpeace; his brother, the Duke of Anjou, had just been elected King ofPoland; Charles IX. Was anxious for him to leave France and go to takepossession of his new kingdom. Thanks to these complications, the peaceof La Rochelle was signed on the 6th of July, 1573. Liberty of creed andworship was recognized in the three towns of La Rochelle, Montauban, andNimes. They were not obliged to receive any royal garrison, on conditionof giving hostages to be kept by the king for two years. Liberty ofworship throughout the extent of their jurisdiction continued to berecognized in the case of lords high-justiciary. Everywhere else theReformers had promises of not being persecuted for their creed, under theobligation of never holding an assembly of more than ten persons at atime. These were the most favorable conditions they had yet obtained. 

Certainly this was not what Charles IX. Had calculated upon when heconsented to the massacre of the Protestants. "Provided, " he had said, "that not a single one is left to reproach me. " The massacre had beenaccomplished almost without any resistance but that offered by certaingovernors of provinces or towns, who had refused to take part in it. Thechief leader of French Protestantism, Coligny, had been the first victim. Far more than that, the Parliament of Paris had accepted the royal liewhich accused Coligny of conspiring for the downfall of the king and theroyal house; a decree, on that very ground, sentenced to condemnation thememory, the family, and the property of Coligny, with all sorts ofrigorous, we should rather say atrocious, circumstances. And afterhaving succeeded so well against the Protestants, Charles IX. Saw themrecovering again, renewing the struggle with him, and wresting from himsuch concessions as he had never yet made to them. More than ever mighthe exclaim, "Then I shall never have rest!" The news that came to himfrom abroad was not more calculated to satisfy him. 

[Illustration: The St. Bartholomew----383]

The St. Bartholomew had struck Europe with surprise and horror; not onlyamongst the princes and in the countries that were Protestant, inEngland, Scotland, and Northern Europe, but in Catholic Germany itself, there was a very strong feeling of reprobation; the Emperor MaximilianII. And the Elector Palatine Frederic III. , called the Pious, showed itopenly; when the Duke of Anjou, elected King of Poland, went throughGermany to go and take possession of his kingdom, he was received atHeidelberg with premeditated coolness. When he arrived at the gate ofthe castle, not a soul went to meet him; alone he ascended the steps, andfound in the hall a picture representing the massacre of St. Bartholomew;the elector called his attention to the portraits of the principalvictims, amongst others that of Coligny, and at table he was waited uponsolely by French Protestant refugees. At Rome itself, in the midst ofofficial satisfaction and public demonstrations of it exhibited by thepontifical court, the truth came out, and Pope Gregory XIII. Was touchedby it when certain of my lords the cardinals who were beside him "askedwherefore he wept and was sad at so goodly a despatch of those wretchedfolk, enemies of God and of his Holiness: 'I weep, ' said the pope, 'atthe means the king used, exceeding unlawful and forbidden of God, for toinflict such punishment; I fear that one will fall upon him, and that hewill not have a very long bout of it (will not live very long). I fear, too, that amongst so many dead folk there died as many innocent asguilty. '" [_Brantome, _ t. Iv. P. 306. He attributes this language toPope Pius V. , who died four months before the St. Bartholomew. GregoryXIII. , elected May 15, 1572, was pope when the massacre took place. ] Onlythe King of Spain, Philip II. , a fanatical despot, and pitilesspersecutor, showed complete satisfaction at the event; and he offeredCharles IX. The assistance of his army, if he had need of it, againstwhat there was remaining of heretics in his kingdom. 

Charles IX. Had not mind or character sufficiently sound or sufficientlystrong to support, without great perturbation, the effect of so manyviolent, repeated, and often contradictory impressions. Catherine deMedici had brought up her three sons solely with a view of having theirconfidence and implicit obedience. "All the actions of thequeen-mother, " said the Venetian ambassador Sigismund Cavalli, who hadfor a long while resided at her court, "have always been prompted andregulated by one single passion, the passion of ruling. " Her son Charleshad yielded to it without an effort in his youth. "He was accustomed tosay that, until he was five and twenty, he meant to play the fool; thatis to say, to think of nothing but of enjoying his heyday; accordingly heshowed aversion for speaking and treating of business, putting himselfaltogether in his mother's hands. Now, he no longer thinks and acts inthe same way. I have been told that, since the late events, he requiresto have the same thing said more than three times over by the queen, before obeying her. " It was not with regard to his mother only thatCharles had changed. "His looks, " says Cavalli, "have become melancholyand sombre; in his conversations and audiences he does not look thespeaker in the face; he droops his head, closes his eyes, opens them allat once, and, as if he found the movement painful, closes them again withno less suddenness. It is feared that the demon of vengeance haspossessed him; he used to be merely severe; it is feared that he isbecoming cruel. He is temperate in his diet; drinks nothing but water. To tire himself at any price, is his object. He remains on horseback fortwelve or fourteen consecutive hours; and so he goes hunting and coursingthrough the woods the same animal, the stag, for two or three days, neverstopping but to eat, and never resting but for an instant during thenight. " He was passionately fond of all bodily exercises, the practiceof arms, and the game of tennis. "He had a forge set up for himself, "says Brantome, "and I have seen him forging cannon, and horseshoes, andother things as stoutly as the most robust farriers and forgemen. " He, at the same time, showed a keen and intelligent interest in intellectualworks and pleasures. He often had a meeting, in the evening, of poets, men of letters, and artists--Ronsard, Amadis Jamin, Jodelle, Daurat, Baif; in 1570 he gave them letters patent for the establishment of anAcademy of poetry and music, the first literary society founded in Franceby a king; but it disappeared amidst the civil wars. Charles IX. Himself sang in the choir, and he composed a few hunting-airs. Ronsardwas a favorite, almost a friend, with him; he used to take him with himon his trips, and give him quarters in his palace, and there was many aninterchange of verse between them, in which Ronsard did not always havethe advantage. Charles gave a literary outlet to his passion forhunting; he wrote a little treatise entitled La Chasse royale, which wasnot published until 1625, and of which M. Henry Chevreul brought out, in1857, a charming and very correct edition. Charles IX. Dedicated it tohis lieutenant of the hunt, Mesnil, in terms of such modest andaffectionate simplicity that they deserve to be kept in remembrance. "Mesnil, " said the king, "I should feel myself far too ungrateful, andexpect to be chidden for presumption, if, in this little treatise that Iam minded to make upon stag hunting, I did not, before any one begins toread it, avow and confess that I learnt from you what little I know. . . . I beg you, also, Mesnil, to be pleased to correct and erase whatthere is wrong in the said treatise, the which, if peradventure it is sodone that there is nothing more required than to re-word and alter, thecredit will be firstly yours for having so well taught me, and then minefor having so well remembered. Well, then, having been taught by so gooda master, I will be bold enough to essay it, begging you to accept it asheartily as I present it and dedicate it to you. "

These details and this quotation are allowable in order to shed fulllight upon the private and incoherent character of this king, who bearsthe responsibility of one of the most tragic events in French history. In the spring of 1574, at the age of twenty-three years and elevenmonths, and after a reign of eleven years and six months, Charles IX. Was attacked by an inflammatory malady, which brought on violenthemorrhage; he was revisited, in his troubled sleep, by the same bloodyvisions about which, a few days after the St. Bartholomew, he had spokento Ambrose Pare. He no longer retained in his room anybody but two ofhis servants and his nurse, "of whom he was very fond, although she was aHuguenot, " says the contemporary chronicler Peter de l'Estoile. "Whenshe had lain down upon a chest, and was just beginning to doze, hearingthe king moaning, weeping, and sighing, she went full gently up to thebed. 'Ah, nurse, nurse, ' said the king, 'what bloodshed and whatmurders! Ah! what evil counsel have I followed! O, my God! forgive methem and have mercy upon me, if it may please Thee! I know not what hathcome to me, so bewildered and agitated do they make me. What will be theend of it all? What shall I do? I am lost; I see it well. ' Then saidthe nurse to him, 'Sir, the murders be on the heads of those who made youdo them! Of yourself, sir, you never could; and since you are notconsenting thereto, and are sorry therefor, believe that God will not putthem down to your account, and will hide them with the cloak of justiceof His Son, to whom alone you must have recourse. But for God's sake, let your Majesty cease weeping!' And thereupon, having been to fetch hima pocket-handkerchief, because his own was soaked with tears, after thatthe king had taken it from her hand, he signed to her to go away andleave him to his rest. "

On Sunday, May 30, 1574, Whitsunday, about three in the afternoon, Charles IX. Expired, after having signed an ordinance conferring theregency upon his mother Catherine, "who accepted it, " was the expressionin the letters patent, "at the request of the Duke of Alencon, the Kingof Navarre, and other princes and peers of France. " According toD'Aubigne, Charles used often to say of his brother Henry, that, "when hehad a kingdom on his hands, the administration would find him out, andthat he would disappoint those who had hopes of him. " The last words hesaid were, "that he was glad not to have left any young child to succeedhim, very well knowing that France needs a man, and that, with a child, the king and the reign are unhappy. "

CHAPTER XXXIV. ----HENRY III. AND THE RELIGIOUS WARS. (1574-1589. )

[Illustration: Henry III----388]

Though elected King of Poland on the 9th of May, 1573, Henry, Duke ofAnjou, had not yet left Paris at the end of the summer. Impatient at hisslowness to depart, Charles IX. Said, with his usual oath, "By God'sdeath! my brother or I must at once leave the kingdom: my mother shallnot succeed in preventing it. " "Go, " said Catherine to Henry; "you willnot be away long. " She foresaw, with no great sorrow one would say, thedeath of Charles IX. , and her favorite son's accession to the throne ofFrance. Having arrived in Poland on the 25th of January, 1574, and beencrowned at Cracow on the 24th of February, Henry had been scarcely fourmonths King of Poland when he was apprised, about the middle of June, that his brother Charles had lately died, on the 30th of May, and that hewas King of France. "Do not waste your time in deliberating, " said hisFrench advisers; "you must go and take possession of the throne of Francewithout abdicating that of Poland: go at once and without fuss. " Henryfollowed this counsel. He left Cracow, on the 18th of June, with a veryfew attendants. Some Poles were apprehensive of his design, but saidnothing about it. He went a quarter of a league on foot to reach thehorses which were awaiting him, set off at a gallop, rode all night, andarrived next day early on the frontier of Moravia, an Austrian province. The royal flight created a great uproar at Cracow; the noblemen, and eventhe peasants, armed with stakes and scythes, set out in pursuit of theirking. They did not come up with him; they fell in with his chancelloronly, Guy du Faur, Sieur de Pibrac, who had missed him at the appointedmeeting-place, and who, whilst seeking to rejoin him, had lost himself inthe forests and marshes, concealed himself in the osiers and reeds, andbeen obliged now and then to dip his head, in the mud to avoid the arrowsdischarged on all sides by the peasants in pursuit of the king. Beingarrested by some people who were for taking him back to Cracow and payinghim out for his complicity in his master's flight, he with greatdifficulty obtained his release and permission to continue his road. Destined to become more celebrated by his writings and by his Quatrainsmoraux than by his courtly adventures, Pibrac rejoined King Henry atVienna, where the Emperor Maximilian II. Received him with greatsplendor. Delivered from fatigue and danger, Henry appeared to think ofnothing but resting and diverting himself; he tarried to his heart'scontent at Vienna, Venice, Ferrara, Mantua, and Turin. He was everywherewelcomed with brilliant entertainments, which the Emperor Maximilian andthe senators of Venice accompanied with good advice touching thegovernment of France in her religious troubles; and the nominal sovereignof two kingdoms took nearly three months in going from that whence he hadfled to that of which he was about to take possession. Having startedfrom Cracow on the 18th of June, 1574, he did not arrive until the 5th ofSeptember at Lyons, whither the queen-mother had sent his brother, theDuke of Alencon, and his brother-in-law, the King of Navarre, to receivehim, going herself as far as Bourgoin in Dauphiny, in order to be thefirst to see her darling son again. 

The king's entry into France caused, says De Thou, a strange revulsion inall minds. "During the lifetime of Charles IX. , none had seemed moreworthy of the throne than Henry, and everybody desired to have him formaster. But scarcely had he arrived when disgust set in to the extent ofauguring very ill of his reign. There was no longer any trace in thisprince, who had been nursed, so to speak, in the lap of war, of thatmanly and warlike courage which had been so much admired. He no longerrode on horseback; he did not show himself amongst his people, as hispredecessors had been wont to do; he was only to be seen shut up with afew favorites in a little painted boat which went up and down the Saonehe no longer took his meals without a balustrade, which did not allow himto be approached any Hearer; and if anybody had any petitions to presentto him, they had to wait for him as he came out from dinner, when he tookthem as he hurried by. For the greater part of the day he remainedcloseted with some young folks, who alone had the prince's ear, withoutany body's knowing how they had arrived at this distinction, whilst thegreat, and those whose services were known, could scarcely get speech ofhim. Showiness and effeminacy had taken the place of the grandeur andmajesty which had formerly distinguished our kings. " [De Thou, _Histoireuniverselle, _ t. Vii. P. 134. ]

[Illustration: Indolence of Henry III---390]

"The time was ill chosen by Henry III. For this change of habits and forbecoming an indolent and voluptuous king, set upon taking his pleasure inhis court and isolating himself from his people. The condition and ideasof France were also changing, but to issue in the assumption of quite adifferent character and to receive development in quite a differentdirection. Catholics or Protestants, agents of the king's government ormalcontents, all were getting a taste for and adopting the practice ofindependence and a vigorous and spontaneous activity. The bonds of thefeudal system were losing their hold, and were not yet replaced by thoseof a hierarchically organized administration. Religious creeds andpolitical ideas were becoming, for thoughtful and straightforwardspirits, rules of conduct, powerful motives of action, and they furnishedthe ambitious with effective weapons. The theologians of the Catholicchurch and of the Reformed churches--on one side the Cardinal ofLorraine, Cardinals Campeggi and Sadolet, and other learned priests orprelates, and on the other side Calvin, who had been nursed, so to speak, in the lap of war, of that manly and warlike courage which had been somuch admired. He no longer rode on horseback; he did not show himselfamongst his people, as his predecessors had been wont to do; he was onlyto be seen shut up with a few favorites in a little painted boat whichwent up and down the Saone he no longer took his meals without abalustrade, which did not allow him to be approached any nearer; and ifanybody had any petitions to present to him, they had to wait for him ashe came out from dinner, when he took them as he hurried by. For thegreater part of the day he remained closeted with some young folks, whoalone had the prince's ear, without anybody's knowing how they hadarrived at this distinction, whilst the great, and those whose serviceswere known, could scarcely get speech of him. Showiness and effeminacyhad taken the place of the grandeur and majesty which had formerlydistinguished our kings. " [De Thou, Histoire universelle, t. Vii. P. 134. ]

The time was ill chosen by Henry III. For this change of habits and forbecoming an indolent and voluptuous king, set upon taking his pleasure inhis court and isolating himself from his people. The condition andideas of France were also changing, but to issue in the assumption ofquite a different character and to receive development in quite adifferent direction. Catholics or Protestants, agents of the king'sgovernment or malcontents, all were getting a taste for and adopting thepractice of independence and a vigorous and spontaneous activity. Thebonds of the feudal system were losing their hold, and were not yetreplaced by those of a hierarchically organized administration. Religious creeds and political ideas were becoming, for thoughtful andstraightforward spirits, rules of conduct, powerful motives of action, and they furnished the ambitious with effective weapons. The theologiansof the Catholic church and of the Reformed churches--on one side theCardinal of Lorraine, Cardinals Campeggi and Sadolet, and other learnedpriests or prelates, and on the other side Calvin, Theodore de Beze, Melancthon, and Bucer--were working with zeal to build up into systems ofdogma their interpretations of the great facts of Christianity, and theysucceeded in implanting a passionate attachment to them in their flocks. Independently of these religious controversies, superior minds, profoundlawyers, learned scholars were applying their energies to founding, on aphilosophical basis and historic principles, the organization ofgovernments and the reciprocal rights of princes and peoples. Ramus, one of the last and of the most to be lamented victims of theSt. Bartholomew; Francis Hotman, who, in his Franco-Gallia, aspired tograft the new national liberties upon the primitive institutions of theFranks; Hubert Languet, the eloquent author of the _Vindicice contratyrannos, or de la Puissance legitime du Prince cur le Peuple et duPeuple sur le Prince;_ John Bodin, the first, in original merit, amongstthe publicists of the sixteenth century, in his _six livres de LAREPUBLIQUE;_ all these eminent men boldly tackled the great questions ofpolitical liberty or of legislative reforms. _Le Contre-un, _ thatrepublican treatise by De la Boetie, written in 1546, and circulated, atfirst, in manuscript only, was inserted, between 1576 and 1578, in the_Memoires de l'Etat de France, _ and passionately extolled by theindependent thinker Michael de Montaigne in his Essais, of which nineeditions were published between 1580 and 1598, and evidently very muchread in the world of letters. An intellectual movement so active andpowerful could not fail to have a potent effect upon political life. Before the St. Bartholomew, the great religious and political parties, the Catholic and the Protestant, were formed and at grips; the house ofLorraine at the head of the Catholics, and the house of Bourbon, Conde, and Coligny at the head of the Protestants, with royalty trying feeblyand vainly to maintain between them a hollow peace. To this stormyand precarious, but organized and clearly defined condition, theSt. Bartholomew had caused anarchy to succeed. Protestantism, vanquished but not destroyed, broke up into provincial and municipalassociations without recognized and dominant heads, without disciplineor combination in respect of either their present management or theirultimate end. Catholicism, though victorious, likewise underwent abreak-up; men of mark, towns and provinces, would not accept theSt. Bartholomew and its consequences; a new party, the party of thepolicists, sprang up, opposed to the principle and abjuring the practiceof persecution, having no mind to follow either the Catholics in theiroutrages or royalty in its tergiversations, and striving to maintain inthe provinces and the towns, where it had the upper hand, enough of orderand of justice to at least keep at a distance the civil war which waselsewhere raging. Languedoc owed to Marshal de Damville, second son ofthe Constable Anne de Montmorency, this comparatively bearable position. But the degree of security and of local peace which it offered the peoplewas so imperfect, so uncertain, that the break-up of the country and ofthe state went still farther. In a part of Languedoc, in the Vivarais, the inhabitants, in order to put their habitations and their property insafety, resolved to make a league amongst themselves, without consultingany authority, not even Marshal de Damville, the peace-seeking governorof their province. Their treaty of alliance ran, that arms should belaid down throughout the whole of the Vivarais; that none, foreigner ornative, should be liable to trouble for the past; that tillers of thesoil and traders should suffer no detriment in person or property; thatall hostilities should cease in the towns and all forays in the country;that there should everywhere be entire freedom for commerce; that cattlewhich had been lifted should be immediately restored gratis; thatconcerted action should be taken to get rid of the garrisons out of thecountry and to raze the fortresses, according as the public weal mightrequire; and finally that whosoever should dare to violate theseregulations should be regarded as a traitor and punished as a disturberof the public peace. "As soon as the different authorities in the state, Marshal de Damville as well as the rest, were informed of this novelty, "says De Thou, "they made every effort to prevent it from taking effect. 'Nothing could be of more dangerous example, ' they said, 'than to sufferthe people to make treaties in this way and on their own authority, without waiting for the consent of his Majesty or of those whorepresented him in the provinces. ' The folks of the Vivarais, on thecontrary, presumed to justify themselves by saying that the step they hadtaken did not in any way infringe the king's authority; that it wasrather an opening given by them for securely establishing tranquillity inthe kingdom; that nothing was more advantageous or could contribute moretowards peace than to raze all those fortresses set up in the heart ofthe state, which were like so many depots of revolt; that by a diminutionof the garrisons the revenues of his Majesty would be proportionatelyaugmented; that, at any rate, there would result this advantage, that thelands, which formed almost the whole wealth of the kingdom, would becultivated, that commerce would flourish, and that the people, deliveredfrom fear of the many scoundrels who, found a retreat in those places, would at last be able to draw breath after the many misfortunes they hadexperienced. "

It was in this condition of disorganization and red-hot anarchy thatHenry III. , on his return from Poland, and after the St. Bartholomew, found France; it was in the face of all these forces, full of life, butscattered and excited one against another, that, with the aid of hismother, Catherine, he had to re-establish unity in the state, theeffectiveness of the government, and the public peace. It was not a taskfor which the tact of an utterly corrupted woman and an irresolute princesufficed. What could the artful manoeuvrings of Catherine and thewaverings of Henry III. Do towards taming both Catholics and Protestantsat the same time, and obliging them to live at peace with one another, under one equitable and effective power? Henry IV. Was as yet unformed, nor was his hour yet come for this great work. Henry III. And Catherinede' Medici failed in it completely; their government of fifteen yearsserved only to make them lose their reputation for ability, and toaggravate for France the evils which it was their business to heal. In1575, a year only after Henry III. 's accession, revolt penetrated to theroyal household. The Duke of Alencon, the king's younger brother, who, since his brother's coronation, took the title of Duke of Anjou, escapedon the 15th of September from the Louvre by a window, and from Paris by ahole made in the wall of circumvallation. He fled to Dreux, a town inhis appanage, and put himself at the head of a large number ofmalcontents, nobles and burgesses, Catholic and Reformed, mustered aroundhim under this name of no religious significance between the two oldparties. On the 17th of September, in his manifesto, he gave as reasonsfor his revolt, excessive taxation, waste of the public revenues, thefeebleness of the royal authority, incapable as it was of putting a stopto the religious troubles, and the disgrace which had been inflicted uponhimself "by pernicious ministers who desire to have the government intheir sole patronage, excluding from it the foremost and the mostillustrious of the court, and devouring all that there is remaining tothe poor people. " He protested his devotion to the king his brother, atthe same time declaring war against the Guises. 

King Henry of Navarre, testifying little sympathy with the Duke of Anjou, remained at court, abandoning himself apparently to his pleasures alone. Two of his faithful servants (the poet-historian D'Aubigne was one ofthem) heard him one night sighing as he lay in bed, and humming halfaloud this versicle from the eighty-eighth Psalm:--

 "Removed from friends, I sigh alone, In a loathed dungeon laid, where none A visit will vouchsafe to me, Confined past hope of liberty. "

"Sir, " said D'Aubigne eagerly, "it is true, then, that the Sprit of Godworketh and dwelleth in you still? You sigh unto God because of theabsence of your friends and faithful servants; and all the while they aretogether, sighing because of yours and laboring for your freedom. Butyou have only tears in your eyes, and they, arms in hand, are fightingyour enemies. As for us two, we were talking of taking to flighttomorrow, when your voice made us draw the curtain. Bethink you, sir, that, after us, the hands that will serve you would not dare refuse toemploy poison and the knife. " Henry, much moved, resolved to follow theexample of the Duke of Anjou. His departure was fixed for the 3d ofFebruary, 1576. He went and slept at Senlis; hunted next day very early, and, on his return from hunting, finding his horses baited and ready, "What news?" he asked. "Sir, " said D'Aubigne, "we are betrayed; the kingknows all; the road to death and shame is Paris; that to life and gloryis anywhere else. " "That is more than enough; away!" replied Henry. They rode all night, and arrived without misadventure at Alencon. Twohundred and fifty gentlemen, having been apprised in time, went thitherto join the King of Navarre. He pursued his road in their company. FromSenlis to the Loire he was silent but when he had crossed the river, "Praised be God, who has delivered me!" he cried; "at Paris they were thedeath of my mother; there they killed the admiral and my best servants;and they had no mind to do any better by me, if God had not had me in hiskeeping. I return thither no more unless I am dragged. I regret onlytwo things that I have left behind at Paris--mass and my wife. As formass, I will try to do without it; but as for my wife, I cannot; I meanto see her again. " He disavowed the appearances of Catholicism he hadassumed, again made open profession of Protestantism by holding at thebaptismal font, in the conventicle, the daughter of a physician amongsthis friends. Then he reached Bearn, declaring that he meant to remainthere independent and free. A few days before his departure he hadwritten to one of his Bearnese friends, "The court is the strangest youever saw. We are almost always ready to cut one another's throats. Wewear daggers, shirts of mail, and very often the whole cuirass under thecape. I am only waiting for the opportunity to deliver a little battle, for they tell me they will kill me, and I want to be beforehand. "Mesdames de Carnavalet and de Sauve, two of his fair friends, had warnedhim that, far from giving him the lieutenant-generalship, which had beenso often promised him, it had been decided to confer this office on theking's brother, in order to get him back to court and seize his person assoon as he arrived. 

It was the increasing preponderance of the Guises, at court as well as inthe country, which caused the two princes to take this sudden resolution. Since Henry III. 's coming to the throne, war had gone on between theCatholics and the Protestants, but languidly and with frequentsuspensions through local and shortlived truces. The king and thequeen-mother would have been very glad that the St. Bartholomew should beshort-lived also, as a necessary but transitory crisis; it had rid themof their most formidable adversaries, Coligny and the Reformers of notewho were about him. Henry and Catherine aspired to no more than resumingtheir policy of manoeuvring and wavering between the two parties engagedin the struggle; but it was not for so poor a result that the ardentCatholics had committed the crime of the St. Bartholomew; they promisedthemselves from it the decisive victory of their church and of theirsupremacy. Henry de Guise came forward as their leader in this granddesign; there are to be read, beneath a portrait of him done in thesixteenth century, these verses, also of that date:--

 "The virtue, greatness, wisdom from on high, Of yonder duke, triumphant far and near, Do make bad men to shrink with coward fear, And God's own Catholic church to fructify. In armor clad, like maddened Mars he moves; The trembling Huguenot cowers at his glance; A prop for holy church is his good lance; His eye is ever mild to those he loves. "

Guise cultivated very carefully this ardent confidence on the part ofCatholic France; he recommended to his partisans attention to littlepious and popular practices. "I send you some paternosters [meaning, inthe plural, the beads of a chaplet, or the chaplet entire], " he wrote tohis wife, Catherine of Cleves; "you will have strings made for them andstring them together. I don't know whether you dare offer some of themto the queens and to my lady mother. Ask advice of Mesdames de Retz andde Villeroy about it. " The flight and insurrection of the Duke of Anjouand the King of Navarre furnished the Duke of Guise with a very naturaloccasion for re-engaging in the great struggle between Catholicism andProtestantism, wherein the chief part belonged to him. Let us recur, fora moment, to the origin of that struggle and the part taken in it, at theoutset, by the princes of the house of Lorraine. "As early as the year1562, twenty-six years before the affair of the barricades, " says M. Vitet in the excellent introduction which he has put at the head of hisbeautiful historic dramas from the last half of the sixteenth century, "Cardinal Charles of Lorraine, being at the Council of Trent, conceivedthe plan of a Holy League, or association of Catholics, which was to havethe triple object of defending, by armed force, the Romish church inFrance, of obtaining for the cardinal's brother, Duke Francis de Guise, the lieutenant-generalship of the kingdom, and of helping him to ascendthe throne, in case the line of the Valois should become extinct. Thedeath of Duke Francis, murdered in front of Orleans by Poltrot, did notpermit the cardinal to carry out his plan. Five years afterwards, Henryde Guise, eldest son of Francis, and then eighteen years of age, causedto be drawn up, for the first time, a form of oath whereby thedignitaries bound themselves to sacrifice their goods and lives indefence of the Catholic religion in the face of and against all, exceptthe king, the royal family, and the princes of their connection. Thisform was signed by the nobility of Champagne and Brie, a province ofwhich Henry de Guise was governor, and on the 25th of July, 1568, thebishop and clergy of Troyes signed it likewise. The association isnamed, in the form, _Holy League, Christian and royal_. Up to the year1576 it remained secret, and did not cross the boundaries of Champagne. "To this summary of M. Vitet's may be added that independently of theChampagnese league of 1568 and in the interval between 1568 and 1575there had been formed, in some provinces and towns, other localassociations for the defence of the Catholic church against the heretics. When, in 1575, first the Duke of Anjou and after him the King of Navarrewere seen flying from the court of Henry III. And commencing aninsurrection with the aid of a considerable body of German auxiliariesand French refugees, already on French soil and on their way acrossChampagne, the peril of the Catholic church appeared so grave and sourgent that, in the threatened provinces, the Catholics devotedthemselves with ardor to the formation of a grand association for thedefence of their cause. Then and thus was really born the League, secretat first, but, before long, publicly and openly proclaimed, which held soimportant a place in the history of the sixteenth century. Picardy andChampagne were the first scene of its formation; but in the neighboringprovinces the same travail took place and brought forth fruits. AtParis, a burgess named La Roche-Blond, and devoted to the Guises, aperfumer named Peter de la Bruyere and his son Matthew de la Bruyere, councillor at the Chatelet, were, says De Thou, the first and mostzealous preachers of the Union. "At their solicitation, " continues theaustere magistrate, "all the debauchees there were in this great city, all folks whose only hope was in civil war for the indulgence of theirlibertinism or for a safe means of satisfying their avarice or theirambition, enrolled themselves emulously in this force. Many, even of therichest burgesses, whose hatred for Protestants blinded them so far asnot to see the dangers to which such associations expose publictranquillity in a well-regulated state, had the weakness to join theseditious. "

Many asked for time to consider, and, before making any engagement, theywent to see President de Thou [Christopher, premier president of theParliament of Paris since 1562, and father of the historian JamesAugustus de Thou], informed him of these secret assemblies and all thatwent on there, and begged him to tell them whether he approved of them, and whether it was true that the court authorized them. M. De Thouanswered them at once, with that straightforwardness which was innate inhim, that these kinds of proceedings had not yet come to his knowledge, that he doubted whether they had the approbation of his Majesty, and thatthey would do wisely to hold aloof from all such associations. Theauthority of this great man began to throw suspicion upon the designs ofthe Unionists, and his reply prevented many persons from casting in theirlot with the party; but they who found themselves at the head of thisfaction were not the folks to so easily give up their projects, for theyfelt themselves too well supported at court and amongst the people. Theyadvised the Lorraine princes to have the Union promulgated in theprovinces, and to labor to make the nobility of the kingdom enter it. 

Henry de Guise did not hesitate. At the same time that he avowed theLeague and labored to propagate it, he did what was far more effectualfor its success: he entered the field and gained a victory. The Germanallies and French refugees who had come to support Prince Henry de Condeand the Duke of Anjou in their insurrection advanced into Champagne. Guise had nothing ready, neither army nor money; he mustered in hastethree thousand horse, who were to be followed by a body of foot and amoiety of the king's guards. "I haven't a son, " he wrote to his wife;"take something out of the king's chest, if there is anything there;provided you know that there is something there, don't be afraid; take itand send it me at once. As for the _reitres, _ they are more afraid of usthan we of them; don't be frightened about them on my account; thegreatest danger I shall run will be that a glass of wine may break in myhand. " He set out in pursuit of the Germans, came up with them on the10th of October, 1575, at Port-a-Binson, on the Marne, and ordered themto be attacked by his brother the Duke of Mayenne, whom he supportedvigorously. They were broken and routed. The hunt, according to theexpression at the time, lasted all the rest of the day and during thenight. "A world of dead covers the field of battle, " wrote Guise. Hehad himself been wounded: he went in obstinate pursuit of a mounted foewhom he had twice touched with his sword, and who, in return, had firedtwo pistol-shots, of which one took effect in the leg, and the othercarried away part of his cheek and his left ear. Thence came his name ofHenry the Scarred (_le Balafre_), which has clung to him in history. 

[Illustration: Henry le Balafre----400]

Scarcely four years had rolled away since the St. Bartholomew. In vainhad been the massacre of ten thousand Protestants, according to thelowest, and of one hundred thousand, according to the highest estimates, besides nearly all the renowned chiefs of the party. Charles IX. 'searnest prayer, "That none remain to reproach me!" was so far fromaccomplishment that the war between Catholicism and Protestantismrecommenced in almost every part of France with redoubled passion, with anew importance of character, and with symptoms of much longer durationthan at its first outbreak. Both parties had found leaders made, bothfrom their position and their capacity, to command them. Admiral Colignywas succeeded by the King of Navarre, who was destined to become HenryIV. ; and Duke Francis of Guise by his son Henry, if not as able, at anyrate as brave a soldier, and a more determined Catholic than he. Amongstthe Protestants, Sully and Da Plessis-Mornay were assuming shape andimportance by the side of the King of Navarre. Catherine de' Mediciplaced at her son's service her Italian adroitness, her maternaldevotion, and an energy rare for a woman between sixty and seventy yearsof age, for forty-three years a queen, and worn out by intrigue, andbusiness, and pleasure. Finally, to the question of religion, theprimary cause of the struggle, was added a question of kingship, kept inthe background, but ever present in thought and deed: which of the threehouses of Valois, Bourbon, and Lorraine should remain in or enter uponpossession of the throne of France. The interests and the ambition offamilies and of individuals were playing their part simultaneously withthe controversies and the passions of creed. 

This state of things continued for twelve years, from 1576 to 1588, withconstant alternations of war, truce, and precarious peace, and in themidst of constant hesitation, on the part of Henry III. , between alliancewith the League, commanded by the Duke of Guise, and adjustment with theProtestants, of whom the King of Navarre was every day becoming the moreand more avowed leader. Between 1576 and 1580, four treaties of peacewere concluded; in 1576, the peace called Monsieur's, signed at Chastenayin Orleanness; in 1577, the peace of Bergerac or of Poitiers; in 1579, the peace of Nerac; in 1580, the peace of Fleix in Perigord. InNovember, 1576, the states-general were convoked and assembled at Blois, where they sat and deliberated up to March, 1577, without any importantresult. Neither these diplomatic conventions nor these nationalassemblies had force enough to establish a real and lasting peace betweenthe two parties, for the parties themselves would not have it; in vaindid Henry III. Make concessions and promises of liberty to theProtestants; he was not in a condition to guarantee their execution andmake it respected by their adversaries. At heart neither Protestants norCatholics were for accepting mutual liberty; not only did they bothconsider themselves in possession of all religious truth, but they alsoconsidered themselves entitled to impose it by force upon theiradversaries. The discovery (and the term is used advisedly, so slow tocome and so long awaited has been the fact which it expresses), thediscovery of the legitimate separation between the intellectual world andthe political world, and of the necessity, also, of having theintellectual world free in order that it may not make upon the politicalworld a war which, in the inevitable contact between them, the lattercould not support for long, this grand and salutary discovery, be itrepeated, and its practical influence in the government of people cannotbe realized save in communities already highly enlightened andpolitically well ordered. Good order, politically, is indispensableif liberty, intellectually, is to develop itself regularly and do thecommunity more good than it causes of trouble and embarrassment. Theyonly who have confidence in human intelligence sincerely admit its rightto freedom; and confidence in human intelligence is possible only in themidst of a political regimen which likewise gives the human community theguarantees whereof its interests and its lasting security have absoluteneed. The sixteenth century was a long way from these conditions ofharmony between the intellectual world and the political world, thenecessity of which is beginning to be understood and admitted by only themost civilized and best governed amongst modern communities. It is oneof the most tardy and difficult advances that people have to accomplishin their life of labor. The sixteenth century helped France to makeconsiderable strides in civilization and intellectual development; butthe eighteenth and nineteenth have taught her how great still, in the artof governing and being governed as a free people, are her children's wantof foresight and inexperience, and, to what extent they require a strongand sound organization of political freedom in order that they maywithout danger enjoy intellectual freedom, its pleasures and its glories. 

From 1576 to 1588, Henry III. Had seen the difficulties of his governmentcontinuing and increasing. His attempt to maintain his own independenceand the mastery of the situation between Catholics and Protestants, bymaking concessions and promises at one time to the former and at anotherto the latter, had not succeeded; and in 1584 it became still moredifficult to practise. On the 10th of June in that year Henry III. 'sbrother, the Duke of Anjou, died at Chateau-Thierry. By this death theleader of the Protestants, Henry, King of Navarre, became lawful heir tothe throne of France. The Leaguers could not stomach that prospect. TheGuises turned it to formidable account. They did not hesitate to makethe future of France a subject of negotiation with Philip II. Of Spain, at that time her most dangerous enemy in Europe. By a secret conventionconcluded at Joinville on the 31st of December, 1584, between Philip andthe Guises, it was stipulated that at the death of Henry III. The crownshould pass to Charles, Cardinal of Bourbon, sixty-four years of age, theKing of Navarre's uncle, who, in order to make himself king, undertook toset aside his nephew's hereditary right, and forbid, absolutely, heretical worship in France. He published on the 31st of March, 1585, a declaration wherein he styled himself premier prince of the blood, andconferred upon the Duke of Guise the title of lieutenant-general of theLeague. By a bull of September 10, 1585, Sixtus V. , but lately electedpope, excommunicated the King of Navarre as a heretic and relapsed, denying him any right of succession to the crown of France, and releasinghis Narvarrese subjects from their oath of fidelity. Sixtus V. Did notyet know what manner of man he was thus attacking. The King of Navarredid not confine himself to protesting in France, on the 10th of June, 1585, against this act of the pope's: he had his protest placarded atRome itself upon the statues of Pasquin and Marforio, and at the verydoors of the Vatican, referring the pope, as to the question of heresy, to a council which he claimed at an early date, and at the same timeappealing against this alleged abuse of power to the court of peers ofFrance, "of whom, " said he, "I have the honor to be the premier. " Thewhole of Italy, including Sixtus V. Himself, a pope of independent mindand proud heart, was struck with this energetic resistance on the part ofa petty king. "It would be a good thing, " said the pope to MarquisPasani, Henry III. 's ambassador, "if the king your master showed as muchresolution against his enemies as the King of Navarre shows against thosewho attack him. " At the first moment Henry III. Had appeared to unravelthe intentions of the League and to be disposed to resist it; by an edictof March 28, 1585, he had ordered that its adherents should beprosecuted; but Catherine de' Medici frightened him with the war whichwould infallibly be kindled, and in which he would have for enemies allthe Catholics, more irritated than ever. And Henry III. Very easily tookfright. Catherine undertook to manage the recoil for him. "I care notwho likes it and who doesn't, " she was wont to say in such cases. Sheasked the Duke of Guise for an interview, which took place, first of allat Epernay, and afterwards at Rheims. The hard demands of the Lorrainersdid not deter the queen-mother, and, on the 7th of July, 1585, a treatywas concluded at Nemours between Henry III. And the League, to the effect"that by an irrevocable edict the practice of the new religion should beforbidden, and that there should henceforth be no other practice ofreligion, throughout the realm of France, save that of the Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman; that all the ministers should depart from thekingdom within a month; that all the subjects of his Majesty should bebound to live according to the Catholic religion and make professionthereof within six months, on pain of confiscation both of person andgoods; that heretics, of whatsoever quality they might be, should bedeclared incapable of holding benefices, public offices, positions, anddignities; that the places which had been given in guardianship to themfor their security should be taken back again forthwith; and, lastly, that the princes designated in the treaty, amongst whom were all theGuises at the top, should receive as guarantee certain places to be heldby them for five years. "

This treaty was signed by all the negotiators, and specially by thequeen-mother, the Cardinals of Bourbon and Guise, and the Dukes of Guiseand Mayenne. It was the decisive act which made the war a war ofreligion. 

On the 18th of July following, Henry III. , on his way to the Palace ofJustice to be present at the publication of the edict he had just issuedin virtue of this treaty with the League, said to the Cardinal ofBourbon, "My dear uncle, against my conscience, but very willingly, Ipublished the edicts of pacification, because they were successful ingiving relief to my people; and now I am going to publish the revocationof those edicts in accordance with my conscience, but very unwillingly, because on its publication hangs the ruin of my kingdom and of mypeople. " When he issued from the palace, cries of "Long live the king!"were heard; "at which astonishment was expressed, " says Peter del'Estoile (t. I. P. 294), "because for a long time past no such favorhad been shown him. But it was discovered that these acclamations werethe doing of persons posted about by the Leaguers, and that, for doingit, money had been given to idlers and sweetmeats to children. " Somedays afterwards, the King of Navarre received news of the treaty ofNemours. He was staying near Bergerac, at the castle of the Lord of LaForce, with whom he was so intimate that he took with him none of hishousehold, as he preferred to be waited upon by M. De la Force's ownstaff. "I was so grievously affected by it, " said he himself at a laterperiod to M. De la Force, "that, as I pondered deeply upon it and held myhead supported upon my hand, my apprehensions of the woes I foresaw formy country were such as to whiten one half of my mustache. " [_Memoiresdu Due de la Force, _ t. I. P. 50. ] Henry III. , for his part, was butlittle touched by the shouts of Long live the king! that he heard as heleft the palace; he was too much disquieted to be rejoiced at them. Hedid not return the greeting of the municipal functionaries or of the mobthat blocked his way. "You see how reluctant he is to embroil himselfwith the Huguenots, " said the partisans of the Guises to the people. 

It was the recommencement of religious civil war, with more deadlinessthan ever. The King of Navarre left no stone unturned to convinceeverybody, friends and enemies, great lords and commonalty, Frenchmen andforeigners, that this recurrence of war was not his doing, and that theLeaguers forced it upon him against his wish and despite of the justiceof his cause. He wrote to Henry III. , "Monseigneur, as soon as theoriginators of these fresh disturbances had let the effects appear oftheir ill-will towards your Majesty and your kingdom, you were pleased towrite to me the opinion you had formed, with very good title, of theirintentions; you told me that you knew, no matter what pretext theyassumed, that they had designs against your person and your crown, andthat they desired their own augmentation and aggrandizement at yourexpense and to your detriment. Such were the words of your letters, Monseigneur, and you did me the honor, whilst recognizing the connectionbetween my fortunes and those of your Majesty, to add expressly that theywere compassing my ruin together with your own. . . . And now, Monseigneur, when I hear it suddenly reported that your Majesty has madea treaty of peace with those who have risen up against your service, providing that your edict be broken, your loyal subjects banished, andthe conspirators armed, and armed with your power and your authorityagainst me, who have the honor of belonging to you, I leave your Majestyto judge in what a labyrinth I find myself. . . . If it is I whomthey seek, or if under my shadow (on my account) they trouble this realm, I have begged that, without henceforth causing the orders and estates ofthis realm to suffer for it, and without the intervention of any army, home or foreign, this quarrel be decided in the Duke of Guise's personand my own, one to one, two to two, ten to ten, twenty to twenty, in anynumber that the said Lord of Guise shall think proper, with the armscustomary amongst gentlemen of honor. . .. It will be a happiness forus, my cousin [Henry de Conde] and myself, to deliver, at the price ofour blood, the king our sovereign lord from the travails and trials thatare a-brewing for him, his kingdom from trouble and confusion, hisnoblesse from ruin, and all his people from extreme misery and calamity. "

The Duke of Guise respectfully declined, at the same time that he thankedthe King of Navarre for the honor done him, saying that he could notaccept the offer, as he was maintaining the cause of religion, and not aprivate quarrel. On his refusal, war appeared to everybody, and in factbecame, inevitable. At his re-engagement in it, the King of Navarre lostno time about informing his friends at home and his allies abroad, thenoblesse, the clergy, and the third estate of France, the city of Paris, the Queen of England. The Protestant princes of Germany, and the Swisscantons, of all he had done to avoid it; he evidently laid great storeupon making his conduct public and his motives understood. He had forhis close confidant and his mouth-piece Philip du Plessis-Mornay, atthat time thirty-six years of age, one of the most learned and mosthard-working as well as most zealous and most sterling amongst theroyalist Protestants of France. It was his duty to draw up thedocuments, manifestoes, and letters published by the King of Navarre, when Henry did not himself stamp upon them the seal of his own language, vivid, eloquent, and captivating in its brevity. 

Henry III. And the queen-mother were very much struck with thisintelligent energy on the part of the King of Navarre, and with theinfluence he acquired over all that portion of the French noblesse andburgesses which had not fanatically enlisted beneath the banner of theLeague. Catherine, accustomed to count upon her skill in the art ofseductive conversation, was for putting it to fresh proof in the case ofthe King of Navarre. Louis di Gonzaga, Duke of Nevers, an Italian, likeherself, and one of her confidants, was sent in advance to sound Henry ofNavarre. He wrote to Henry III. , "Such, sir, as you have known thisprince, such is he even now; nor years nor difficulties change him; he isstill agreeable, still merry, still devoted, as he has sworn to me ahundred times, to peace and your Majesty's service. " Catherine proposedto him an interview. Henry hesitated to comply. From Jarnac, where hewas, he sent Viscount de Turenne to Catherine to make an agreement withher for a few days' truce. "Catherine gave Turenne to understand that, in order to have peace, the King of Navarre must turn Catholic, and put astop to the exercise of the Reformed religion in the towns he held. "When this was reported by his envoy, Henry, who had set out for theinterview, was on the point of retracing his steps; he went on, however, as he was curious to see Catherine, to satisfy his mind upon the pointand to answer her. " They met on the 14th of December, 1586, at thecastle of St. Brice, near Cognac, both of them with gloomy looks. Catherine asked Henry whether Turenne had spoken to him about what, shesaid, was her son's most express desire. 

"I am astounded, " said Henry, "that your Majesty should have taken somuch pains to tell me what my ears are split with hearing; and likewisethat you, whose judgment is so sound, should delude yourself with theidea of solving the difficulty by means of the difficulty itself. Youpropose to me a thing that I cannot do without forfeiture of conscienceand honor, and without injury to the king's service. I should not carrywith me all those of the religion; and they of the League would be somuch the more irritated in that they would lose their hope of deprivingme of the right which I have to the throne. They do not want me withyou, madame, for they would then be in sorry plight, you better served, and all your good subjects more happy. " The queen-mother did not disputethe point. She dwelt "upon the inconveniences Henry suffered during thewar. " "I bear them patiently, madame, " said Henry, "since you burden mewith them in order to unburden yourself of them. " She reproached himwith not doing as he pleased in Rochelle. "Pardon me, madame, " said he, "I please only as I ought. " The Duke of Nevers, who was present at theinterview, was bold enough to tell him that he could not impose a taxupon Rochelle. "That is true, " said Henry: "and so we have no Italianamongst us. " He took leave of the queen-mother, who repeated what shehad said to Viscount de Turenne, "charging him to make it known to thenoblesse who were of his following. " "It is just eighteen months, madame, " said he, "since I ceased to obey the king. He has made war uponme like a wolf, you like a lioness. " "The king and I seek nothing butyour welfare. " "Excuse me, madame; I think it would be the contrary. ""My son, would you have the pains I have taken for the last six monthsremain without fruit?" "Madame, it is not I who prevent you from restingin your bed; it is you who prevent me from lying down in mine. " "Shall Ibe always at pains, I who ask for nothing but rest?" "Madame, the painsplease you and agree with you; if you were at rest you could not livelong. " Catherine had brought with her what was called her flyingsquadron of fair creatures of her court: but, "Madame, " said Henry, as hewithdrew, "there is nothing here for me. "

Before taking part in the war which was day by day becoming more and moreclearly and explicitly a war of religion, the Protestant princes ofGermany and the four great free cities of Strasbourg, Ulm, Nuremberg, andFrankfort resolved to make, as the King of Navarre had made, a strikingmove on behalf of peace and religious liberty. They sent to Henry III. Ambassadors, who, on the 11th of October, 1586, treated him to some frankand bold speaking. "Our princes and masters, " they said to him, "havebeen moved with surprise and Christian compassion towards you, asfaithful friends and good neighbors of yours, on hearing that you, notbeing pleased to suffer in your kingdom any person not of the Romanreligion, have broken the edict of peace which was so solemnly done andbased upon your Majesty's faith and promise, and which is the firm propof the tranquillity of your Majesty and your dominions; the which changeshave appeared to them strange, seeing that your royal person, yourdominions, your conscience, your honor, your reputation and good famehappened to be very much concerned therewith. " Shocked at so rude anadmonition, Henry III. Answered, "It is God who made me king; and as Ibear the title of Most Christian King, I have ever been very zealous forthe preservation of the Catholic religion. . . . It appertains to mealone to decide, according to my discernment, what may contribute to thepublic weal, to make laws for to procure it, to interpret those laws, tochange them, and to abolish them, just as I find it expedient. I havedone so hitherto, and I shall still do so for the future;" and hedismissed the ambassadors. That very evening, on reflecting upon hiswords, and considering that his answer had not met the requirements ofthe case, he wrote with his own hand on a small piece of paper, "thatwhoever said that in revoking the edict of pacification he had violatedhis faith or put a blot upon his honor, had lied;" and he ordered one ofhis officers, though the night was far advanced, to carry that paper tothe ambassadors, and read it to them textually. They asked for a copy;but Henry III. , always careful not to have to answer for his words, hadbidden his officer to suppress the document after having read it; and theGermans departed, determined upon war as well as quite convinced of theking's arrogant pusillanimity. 

Except some local and short-lived truces, war was already lazingthroughout nearly the whole of France, in Provence, in Dauphiny, inNivernais, in Guienne, in Anjou, in Normandy, in Picardy, in Champagne. We do not care to follow the two parties through the manifold butmonotonous incidents of their tumultuous and passionate strife; we desireto review only those events that were of a general and a decisivecharacter. They occurred, naturally, in those places which were thearena, and in those armies which were under the command, of the twoleaders, Duke Henry of Guise and King Henry of Navarre. The former tookupon himself the duty of repulsing, in the north-west of France, theGerman and Swiss corps which were coming to the assistance of the FrenchReformers; the latter put himself at the head of the French Protestantforces summoned to face, in the provinces of the centre and south-west, the royalist armies. Guise was successful in his campaign against theforeigners: on the 26th of October, 1587, his scouts came and told himthat the Germans were at Vimory, near Montargis, dispersed throughout thecountry, without vedettes or any of the precautions of warfare; he was attable with his principal officers at Courtenay, almost seven leagues awayfrom the enemy; he remained buried in thought for a few minutes, and thensuddenly gave the order to sound boot-and-saddle [_boute-selle, _i. E. , put-on saddle]. "What for, pray?" said his brother, the Duke ofMayenne. "To go and fight. " "Pray reflect upon, what you are going todo. " "Reflections that I haven't made in a quarter of an hour Ishouldn't make in a year. " Mounting at once, the leader and hissquadrons arrived at midnight at the gates of Vimory; they found, it is said, the Germans drunk, asleep, and scattered; according to thereporters on the side of the League, the victory of Guise was complete;he took from the Germans twenty-eight hundred horses: the Protestantssaid that the body he charged were nothing but a lot of horse-boys, andthat the two flags he took had for device nothing but a sponge and acurrycomb. But fifteen days later, on the 11th of November, at Auneau, near Chartres, Guise gained an indisputable and undisputed victory overthe Germans; and their general, Baron Dohna, and some of his officersonly saved themselves by cutting their way through sword in hand. TheSwiss, being discouraged, and seeing in the army of Henry III. Eightthousand of their countrymen, who were serving in it not, likethemselves, as adventurers, but under the flags and with theauthorization of their cantons, separated from the Germans and withdrew, after receiving from Henry III. Four hundred thousand crowns as theprice of their withdrawal. In Burgundy, in Champagne, and in Orleanness, the campaign terminated to the honor of Guise, which Henry III. Was farfrom regarding as a victory for himself. 

But almost at the same time at which the League obtained this success inthe provinces of the east and centre, it experienced in those of thesouth-west a reverse more serious for the Leaguers than the Duke ofGuise's victory had been fortunate for them. Henry III. Had given thecommand of his army south of the Loire to one of his favorites, Anne, Duke of Joyeuse, a brilliant, brave, and agreeable young man, whosefortunes he had advanced beyond measure, to the extent of marrying him toMarguerite de Lorraine, the queen's sister, and raising for him theviscountship of Joyeuse to a duchy-peerage, giving him rank, too, afterthe princes of the blood and before the dukes of old creation. Joyeusewas at the head of six thousand foot, two thousand horse, and six piecesof cannon. He entered Poitou and marched towards the Dordogne, whilstthe King of Navarre was at La Rochelle, engaged in putting into order twopieces of cannon, which formed the whole of his artillery, and inassembling round him his three cousins, the Prince of Conde, the Count ofSoissons, and the Prince of Conti, that he might head the whole house ofBourbon at the moment when he was engaging seriously in the struggle withthe house of Valois and the house of Lorraine. A small town, Coutras, situated at the confluence of the two rivers of L'Isle and La Dronne, inthe Gironde, offered the two parties an important position to occupy. "According to his wont, " says the Duke of Aumale in his _Histoire desPrinces de Conde, _ "the Bearnese was on horseback whilst his adversarywas banqueting. " He outstripped Joyeuse; and when the latter drew nearto Contras, he found the town occupied by the Protestant advance-guard, and had barely time to fall back upon La Roche-Chalais. The battle beganon the 20th of October, 1587, shortly after sunrise. We will here borrowthe equally dramatic and accurate account of it given by the Duke ofAumale: "At this solemn moment the King of Navarre calls to his side hiscousins and his principal officers; then, in his manly and sonorousvoice, he addresses his men-at-arms: 'My friends, here is a quarry foryou very different from your past prizes. It is a brand-new bridegroom, with his marriage-money still in his coffers; and all the cream of thecourtiers are with him. Will you let yourselves go down before thishandsome dancing-master and his minions? No, they are ours; I see it byyour eagerness to fight. Still we must all of us understand that theevent is in the hands of God. Pray we Him to aid us. This deed will bethe greatest that we ever did; the glory will be to God, the service toour sovereign lord the king, the honor to ourselves, and the benefit tothe state. ' Henry uncovers; the clergymen Chandieu and Damours intonethe army's prayer, and the men-at-arms repeat in chorus the twenty-fourthversicle of the hundred and eighteenth Psalm: 'This is the day which theLord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it. ' As they werehastening each to his post, the king detains his cousins a moment. 'Gentlemen, ' he shouts, 'I have just one thing to say: remember that youare of the house of Bourbon; and, as God liveth, I will let you see thatI am your senior. ' 'And we will show you some good juniors, ' answeredConde. "

Before midday the battle was won and the royalist army routed, butnot without having made a valiant stand. During the action, D'EpinaySaint-Luc, one of the bravest royalist soldiers, met the Duke of Joyeusealready wounded. "What's to be done?" he asked. "Die, " answeredJoyeuse; and a few moments afterwards, as he was moving away some pacesto the rear in order to get near to his artillery, says D'Aubigne, he wassurrounded by several Huguenots, who recognized him. "There are ahundred-thousand crowns to be gained, " he shouted; but rage was morepowerful than cupidity, and one of them shattered his skull with apistol-shot. "His body was taken to the king's quarters: there it lay, in the evening, upon a table in the very room where the conqueror'ssupper had been prepared: but the King of Navarre ordered all who were inthe chamber to go out, had his supper things removed else-whither, and, with every mark of respect, committed the remains of the vanquished tothe care of Viscount de Turenne, his near relative. Henry showed asimple and modest joy at his splendid triumph. It was five and twentyyears since the civil war commenced, and he was the first Protestantgeneral who had won a pitched battle; he had to regret onlytwenty-five killed, whereas the enemy had lost more than three thousand, and had abandoned to him their cannon, together with twenty-nine flags orstandards. The victory was so much the more glorious in that it wasgained over an army superior in numbers and almost equal in quality. It was owing to the king's valor, decision, vigilance, quick eye, comprehension of tactics, and that creative instinct which he broughtinto application in politics as well as in war, and which was destined torender him so happily inspired in the beautiful defensive actions ofArques, at the affair of Ivry, and on so many other occasions. "[_Histoire des Princes de Conde, &c. , _ by M. Le Due D'Aumale, t. Ii. Pp. 164-177. ]

And what was Henry III. , King of France, doing whilst two great partiesand two great men were thus carrying on, around his throne and in hisname, so passionate a war, on the one side to maintain the despotic unityof Catholic Christianism, and on the other to win religious liberty forChristian Protestantism? We will borrow here the words of the mostenlightened and most impartial historian of the sixteenth century, M. DeThou; if we acted upon our own personal impressions alone, there would bedanger of appearing too severe towards a king whom we profoundly despise. 

"After having staid some time in Bourbonness, Henry III. Went to Lyons inorder to be within hail of his two favorites, Joyeuse and Epernon, whowere each on the march with an army. Whilst he was at Lyons asunconcerned as if all the realm were enjoying perfect peace, he took tocollecting those little dogs which are thought so much of in that town. Everybody was greatly surprised to see a King of France, in the midst ofso terrible a war and in extreme want of money, expending upon suchpleasures all the time he had at disposal and all the sums he couldscrape together. How lavish soever this prince may have been, yet, ifcomparison be made between the expenditure upon the royal household andthat incurred at Lyons for dogs, the latter will be found infinitelyhigher than the former; without counting expenses for hunting-dogs andbirds, which always come to a considerable sum in the households ofkings, it cost him, every year, more than a hundred thousand gold crownsfor little Lyonnese dogs; and he maintained at his court, with largesalaries, a multitude of men and women who had nothing to do but to feedthem. He also spent large sums in monkeys, parrots, and other creaturesfrom foreign countries, of which he always kept a great number. Sometimes he got tired of them, and gave them all away then his passionfor such creatures returned, and they had to be found for him at nomatter what cost. Since I am upon the subject of this prince'sattachment to matters anything but worthy of the kingly majesty, I willsay a word about his passion for those miniatures which were to be foundin manuscript prayer-books, and which, before the practice of printing, were done by the most skilful painters. Henry III. Seemed to buy suchworks, intended for princes and laid by in cabinets of curiosities, onlyto spoil them; as soon as he had them, he cut them out, and then pastedthem upon the walls of his chapels, as children do. An incomprehensiblecharacter of mind: in certain things, capable of upholding his rank; insome, rising above his position; in others, sinking below childishness. "[_Histoire universelle de F. A. De Thou, _ t. Ix. P. 599. ]

A mind and character incomprehensible indeed, if corruption, lassitude, listlessness, and fear would not explain the existence of everything thatis abnormal and pitiable about human nature in a feeble, cold, andselfish creature, excited, and at the same time worn out, by the businessand the pleasures of kingship, which Henry III. Could neither do withoutnor bear the burden of. His perplexity was extreme in his relations withthe other two Henries, who gave, like himself, their name to this war, which was called by contemporaries the war of the three Henries. Thesuccesses of Henry de Guise and of Henry de Bourbon were almost equallydisagreeable to Henry de Valois. It is probable that, if he could havechosen, he would have preferred those of Henry de Bourbon; if they causedhim like jealousy, they did not raise in him the same distrust; he knewthe King of Navarre's loyalty, and did not suspect him of aiming tobecome, whilst he himself was living, King of France. Besides, heconsidered the Protestants less powerful and less formidable than theLeaguers. Henry de Guise, on the contrary, was evidently, in his eyes, an ambitious conspirator, determined to push his own fortunes on to thevery crown of France if the chances were favorable to him, and not onlyarmed with all the power of Catholicism, but urged forward by thepassions of the League, perhaps further and certainly more quickly thanhis own intentions travelled. Since 1584, the Leaguers had, at Paris, acquired strong organization amongst the populace; the city had beenpartitioned out into five districts under five heads, who, shortlyafterwards, added to themselves eleven others, in order that, in thesecret council of the association, each amongst the sixteen quarters ofParis might have its representative and director. Thence the famousCommittee of Sixteen, which played so great and so formidable a part inthe history of that period. It was religious fanaticism and democraticfanaticism closely united, and in a position to impose their wills upontheir most eminent leaders, upon the Duke of Guise himself. 

In vain did Henry III. Attempt to resume some sort of authority in Paris;his government, his public and private life, and his person were dailyattacked, insulted, and menaced from the elevation of the pulpit and inthe public thoroughfares by qualified preachers or mob-orators. On the16th of December, 1587, the Sorbonne voted, after a deliberation which, it was said, was to be kept secret, "that the government might be takenaway from princes who were found not what they ought to be, just as theadministration of a property from a guardian open to suspicion. " On the30th of December, the king summoned to the Louvre his court of Parliamentand the faculty of theology. "I know of your precious resolution of the16th of this month, " said he to the Sorbonne; "I have been requested totake no notice of it, seeing that it was passed after dinner. I have nomind to avenge myself for these outrages, as I might, and as Pope SixtusV. Did when he sent to the galleys certain Cordeliers for having dared toslander him in their sermons. There is not one of you who has notdeserved as much, and more; but it is my good pleasure to forget all, andto pardon you, on condition of its not occurring again. If it should, Ibeg my court of Parliament, here present, to exact exemplary justice, andsuch as the seditious, like you, may take warning by, so as to mind theirown business. " At their exit after this address, the Parliament and theSorbonne, being quite sure that the king would not carry the matterfurther, withdrew smiling, and saying, "He certainly has spirit, but notenough of it" (_habet quidem animum, sed non satis animi_). The Duke ofGuise's sister, the Duchess of Montpensier, took to getting up andspreading about all sorts of pamphlets against the king and hisgovernment. "The king commanded her to quit his city of Paris; she didnothing of the kind; and three days after she was even brazen enough tosay that she carried at her waist the scissors which would give a thirdcrown to brother Henry de Valois. " At the close of 1587, the Duke ofGuise made a trip to Rome, "with a suite of five; and he only remainedthree days, so disguised that he was not recognized there, and discoveredhimself to nobody but Cardinal Pelleve, with whom he was in communicationday and night. " [_Journal de L'Estoile, _ t. I. P. 345. ] Eighteen monthspreviously, the cardinal had given a very favorable reception to a casedrawn up by an advocate in the Parliament of Paris, named David, whomaintained that, "although the line of the Capets had succeeded to thetemporal administration of the kingdom of Charlemagne, it had notsucceeded to the apostolic benediction, which appertained to none but theposterity of the said Charlemagne, and that, the line of Capet being someof them possessed by a spirit of giddiness and stupidity, and othersheretic and excommunicated, the time had come for restoring the crown tothe true heirs, " that is to say, to the house of Lorraine, which claimedto be issue of Charlemagne. This case was passed on, it is said, fromRome to Philip II. , King of Spain, and M. De Saint-Goard, ambassador ofFrance at Madrid, sent Henry III. A copy of it. [_Memoires de la Ligue, _t. I. Pp. 1-7. ]

Whatever may have been the truth about this trip to Rome on the part ofthe Duke of Guise, and its influence upon what followed, the chiefs ofthe Leaguers resolved to deal a great blow. The Lorraine princes andtheir intimate associates met at Nancy in January, 1588, and decided thata petition should be presented to the king; that he should be called uponto join himself more openly and in good earnest to the League, and toremove from offices of consequence all the persons that should be pointedout to him; that the Holy Inquisition should be established, at any ratein the good towns; that important places should be put into the hands ofspecified chiefs, who should have the power of constructingfortifications there; that heretics should be taxed a third, or at theleast, a fourth of their property as long as the war lasted; and, lastly, that the life should be spared of no enemy taken prisoner, unless uponhis swearing and finding good surety to live as a Catholic, and uponpaying in ready money the worth of his property if it had not alreadybeen sold. These monstrous proposals, drawn up in eleven articles, wereimmediately carried to the king. He did not reject them, but he demandedand took time to discuss them with the authors. The negotiation wasprolonged; the ferment in Paris was redoubled; the king, it was said, meant to withdraw; his person must be secured; the Committee of Sixteentook measures to that end; one of its members got into his hands the keysof the gate of St. Denis. From Soissons, where he was staying, the Dukeof Guise sent to Paris the Count of Brissac, with four other captains ofthe League, to hold themselves in readiness for any event, and he orderedhis brother the Duke of Aumale to stoutly maintain his garrisons in theplaces of Picardy, which the king, it was said, meant to take from him. "If the king leaves Paris, " the duke wrote to Bernard de Mendoza, PhilipII. 's ambassador in France, "I will make him think about returningthither before he has gone a day's march towards the Picards. " PhilipII. Made Guise an offer of three hundred thousand crowns, six thousandlanzknechts, and twelve hundred lances, as soon as he should have brokenwith Henry III. "The abscess will soon burst, " wrote the ambassador tothe king his master. 

On the 8th of May, 1588, at eleven P. M. , the Duke of Guise set out fromSoissons, after having commended himself to the prayers of the conventsin the town. He arrived the next morning before Paris, which he enteredabout midday by the gate of St. Martin. The Leaguers had been expectinghim for several days. Though he had covered his head with his cloak, hewas readily recognized and eagerly cheered; the burgesses left theirhouses and the tradesmen their shops to see him and follow him, shouting, "Hurrah! for Guise; hurrah! for the pillar of the church!" The crowdincreased at every step. He arrived in front of the palace of Catherinede' Medici, who had not expected him, and grew pale at sight of him. "My dear cousin, " said she to him, "I am very glad to see you, but Ishould have been better pleased at another time. " "Madame, I am come toclear myself from all the calumnies of my enemies; do me the honor toconduct me to the king yourself. " Catherine lost no time in giving theking warning by one of her secretaries. On receipt of this notice, HenryIII. , who had at first been stolid--and silent, rose abruptly from hischair. "Tell my lady mother that, as she wishes to present the Duke ofGuise to me, I will receive him in the chamber of the queen my wife. "The envoy departed. The king, turning to one of his officers, ColonelAlphonso Corso, said to him, "M. De Guise has just arrived at Paris, contrary to my orders. What would you do in my place?" "Sir, do youhold the Duke of Guise for friend or enemy?" The king, without speaking, replied by a significant gesture. "If it please your, Majesty to give methe order, I will this very day lay the duke's head at your feet. " Thethree councillors who happened to be there cried out. The king held hispeace. During this conversation at the Louvre, the Duke of Guise wasadvancing along the streets, dressed in a doublet of white damask, acloak of black cloth, and boots of buffalo-hide; he walked on foot, bareheaded, at the side of the queen-mother in a sedan-chair. He wastall, with fair clustering hair and piercing eyes; and his scar added tohis martial air. The mob pressed upon his steps; flowers were thrown tohim from the windows; some, adoring him as a saint, touched him withchaplets which they afterwards kissed; a young girl darted towards him, and, removing her mask, kissed him, saying, "Brave prince, since you arehere, we are all saved. " Guise, with a dignified air, "saluted anddelighted everybody, " says a witness, "with eye, and gesture, andspeech. " "By his side, " said Madame de Retz, "the other princes arecommoners. " "The Huguenots, " said another, "become Leaguers at the verysight of him. " On arriving at the Louvre, he traversed the court betweentwo rows of soldiers, the archers on duty in the hall, and the forty-fivegentlemen of the king's chamber at the top of the staircase. "Whatbrings you hither?" said the king, with difficulty restraining his anger. "I entreat your Majesty to believe in my fidelity, and not allow yourselfto go by the reports of my enemies. " "Did I not command you not to comeat this season so full of suspicions, but to wait yet a while?"

"Sir, I was not given to understand that my coming would be disagreeableto you. " Catherine drew near, and, in a low tone, told her son of thedemonstrations of which the duke had been the object on his way. Guisewas received in the chamber of the queen, Louise de Vaudemont, who wasconfined to her bed by indisposition; he chatted with her a moment, and, saluting the king, retired without being attended by any one of theofficers of the court. Henry III. Confined himself to telling him thatresults should speak for the sincerity of his words. 

Guise returned to his house in the Faubourg St. Antoine, stillaccompanied by an eager and noisy crowd, but somewhat disquieted at heartboth by the king's angry reception and the people's enthusiastic welcome. Brave as he was, he was more ambitious in conception than bold inexecution, and he had not made up his mind to do all that was necessaryto attain the end he was pursuing. The committee of Sixteen, hisconfidants, and all the staff of the League, met at his house during theevening and night between the 9th and 10th of May, preparing for themorrow's action without well knowing what it was to be, proposing variousplans, collecting arms, and giving instructions to their agents amongstthe populace. An agitation of the same sort prevailed at the Louvre; theking, too, was deliberating with his advisers as to what he should do onthe morrow: Guise would undoubtedly present himself at his morning levee;should he at once rid himself of him by the poniards of the five andforty bravoes which the Duke of Epernon had enrolled in Gascony for hisservice? Or would it be best to summon to Paris some troops, French andSwiss, to crush the Parisian rebels and the adventurers that had hurriedup from all parts to their aid? But on the 10th of May, Guise went tothe Louvre with four hundred gentlemen well armed with breastplates andweapons under their cloaks. The king did nothing; no more did Guise. The two had a long conversation in the queen-mother's garden; but it ledto no result. On the 11th of May, in the evening, the provost oftradesmen, Hector de Perreuse, assembled the town-council and those ofthe district-colonels on whom he had reliance to receive the king'sorders. Orders came to muster the burgher companies of certaindistricts, and send them to occupy certain positions that had beendetermined upon. They mustered slowly and incompletely, and some not atall; and scarcely had they arrived when several left the posts which hadbeen assigned to them. The king, being informed of this sluggishness, sent for the regiment of the French Guards, and for four thousand Swisscantoned in the outskirts of Paris; and he himself mounted his horse, onthe 12th of May, in the morning, to go and receive them at the gate ofSt. Honord. These troops "filed along, without fife or drum, towards thecemetery of the Innocents. " The populace regarded them as they passedwith a feeling of angry curiosity and uneasy amazement. When all thecorps had arrived at the appointed spot, "they put themselves in motiontowards different points, now making a great noise with their drums andfifes, which marvellously astonished the inhabitants of the quarter. "Noise provokes noise. "In continently, " says L'Estoile, "everybodyseizes his arms, goes out on guard in the streets and cantons; in lessthan no time chains are stretched across and barricades made at thecorners of the streets; the mechanic leaves his tools, the tradesman hisbusiness, the University their books, the attorneys their bags, theadvocates their bands; the presidents and councillors themselves takehalberds in hand; nothing is heard but shouts, murmurs, and the seditiousspeeches that heat and alarm a people. " The tocsin sounded everywhere;barricades sprang up in the twinkling of an eye; they were made withinthirty paces of the Louvre. The royal troops were hemmed in where theystood, and deprived of the possibility of moving; the Swiss, beingattacked, lost fifty men, and surrendered, holding up their chaplets andexclaiming that they were good Catholics. It was thought sufficient todisarm the French Guards. The king, remaining stationary at the Louvre, sent his marshals to parley with the people massed in the thoroughfares;the queen-mother had herself carried over the barricades in order to goto Guise's house and attempt some negotiation with him. He received hercoldly, demanding that the king should appoint him lieutenant-general ofthe kingdom, declare the Huguenot princes incapacitated from succeedingto the throne, and assemble the states-general. At the approach ofevening, Guise determined to go himself and assume the conqueror's air byputting a stop to the insurrection. He issued from his house onhorseback, unarmed, with a white wand in his hand; he rode through thedifferent districts, exhorting the inhabitants to keep up theirbarricades, whilst remaining on the defensive and leaving him to completetheir work. He was greeted on all sides with shouts of "Hurrah! forGuise!" "You wrong me, my friends, " said he; "you should shout, 'Hurrah!for the king!'" He had the French Guards and the Swiss set at liberty;and they defiled before him, arms lowered and bareheaded, as before theirpreserver. Next morning, May 13, he wrote to D'Entragues, governor ofOrleans, "Notify our friends to come to us in the greatest hastepossible, with horses and arms, but without baggage, which they willeasily be able to do, for I believe that the roads are open hence to you. I have defeated the Swiss, and cut in pieces a part of the king's guards, and I hold the Louvre invested so closely that I will render good accountof whatsoever there is in it. This is so great a victory that it will beremembered forever. " That same day, the provost of tradesmen and theroyalist sheriffs repaired to the Louvre, and told the king that, withoutgreat and immediate concessions, they could not answer for anything; theLouvre was not in a condition of defence; there were no troops to bedepended upon for resistance, no provisions, no munitions; the investmentwas growing closer and closer every hour, and the assault might commenceat any instant. Henry III. Sent his mother once more to the Duke ofGuise, and himself went out about four o'clock, dressed in a country suitand scantily attended, as if for a walk in the Tuileries. Catherinefound the duke as inflexible as he had been the day before. Heperemptorily insisted upon all the conditions he had laid down already, the lieutenant-generalship of the kingdom for himself, the unity of theCatholic faith, forfeiture on the part of the King of Navarre and everyother Huguenot prince as heir to the throne, perpetual banishment of theking's favorites, and convocation of the states-general. "The king, " hesaid, "purposes to destroy all the grandees of the kingdom and to harryall those who oppose his wishes and the elevation of his minions; it ismy duty and my interest to take all the measures necessary for my ownpreservation and that of the people. " Catherine yielded on nearly everypoint, at the same time, however, continually resuming and prolonging thediscussion. One of the duke's most trusty confidants, Francis deMainville, entered and whispered in his ear. "Madame, " cried the duke, "whilst your Majesty has been amusing me here, the king is off from Paristo harry me and destroy me!" Henry III. , indeed, had taken horse at theTuileries, and, attended by his principal councillors, unbooted andcloakless, had issued from the New gate, and set out on the road to St. Cloud. Equipping him in haste, his squire, Du Halde, had put his spur onwrong, and would have set it right, but, "That will do, " said the king;"I am not going to see my mistress; I have a longer journey to make. " Itis said that the corps on guard at the Nesle gate fired from a distance asalute of arquebuses after the fugitive king, and that a crowd assembledon the other bank of the river shouted insults after him. At the heightof Chaillot Henry pulled up, and turning round towards Paris, "Ungratefulcity, " he cried, "I have loved thee more than my own wife; I will notenter thy walls again but by the breach. "

It is said that on hearing of the Duke of Guise's sudden arrival atParis, Pope Sixtus V. Exclaimed, "Ah! what rashness! To thus go and puthimself in the hands of a prince he has so outraged!" And some daysafterwards, on the news that the king had received the Duke of Guise andnothing had come of it, "Ah, dastard prince! poor creature of a prince, to have let such a chance escape him of getting rid of a man who seemsborn to be his destruction!" [_De Thou, _ t. X. P. 266. ]

When the king was gone, Guise acted the master in Paris. He ordered theimmediate delivery into his hands of the Bastille, the arsenal, and thecastle of Vincennes. Ornano, governor of the Bastille, sent an offer tothe king, who had arrived at Chartres, to defend it to the lastextremity. "I will not expose to so certain a peril a brave man who maybe necessary to me elsewhere, " replied the king. Guise caused to beelected at Paris a new town-council and a new provost of tradesmen, alltaken from amongst the most ardent Leaguers. He at the same time exertedhimself to restore order; he allowed all royalists who wished to departto withdraw to Chartres; he went in person and pressed the premierpresident of Parliament, Achille de Harlay, to resume the course ofjustice. "It is great pity, sir, " said Harlay, "when the servant drivesout the master; this assembly is founded (seated) on the fleur-de-lis;being established by the king, it can act only for his service. We willall lose our lives to a man rather than give way a whit to the contrary. ""I have been in many battles, " said Guise, as he went out, "in assaultsand encounters the most dangerous in the world; and I have never been soovercome as at my reception by this personage. " At the same time that hewas trying to exercise authority and restore order, unbridled violenceand anarchy were making head around him; the Sixteen and their friendsdischarged from the smallest offices, civil or religious, whoever was notdevoted to them; they changed all the captains and district-officers ofthe city militia; they deposed all the incumbents, all the ecclesiasticswhom they termed Huguenots and policists; the pulpits of Christiansbecame the platforms of demagogues; the preachers Guiticestre, Boucher, Rose, John Prevost, Aubry, Pigenat, Cueilly, Pelletier, and a host ofothers whose names have fallen into complete obscurity, were the popularapostles, the real firebrands of the troubles of the League, saysPasquier; there was scarcely a chapel where there were not severalsermons a day. "You know not your strength, " they kept repeating totheir auditors: "Paris knows not what she is worth; she has wealth enoughto make war upon four kings. France is sick, and she will never recoverfrom that sickness till she has a draught of French blood given her. . . . If you receive Henry de Valois into your towns, make up yourminds to see your preachers massacred, your sheriffs hanged, your womenviolated, and the gibbets garnished with your members. " One of theseraving orators, Claude Trahy, provincial of the Cordeliers, devotedhimself to hounding on the populace of Auxerre against their bishop, James Amyot, the translator of Plutarch, whom he reproached with "havingcommunicated with Henry III. And administered to him the eucharist;"brother John Moresin, one of Trahy's subalterns, went about brandishing ahalberd in the public place at Auxerre, and shouting, "Courage, lads!messire Amyot is a wicked man, worse than Henry de Valois; he hasthreatened to have our master Trahy hanged, but he will repent it;" and, "at the voice of this madman, there hurried up vine-dressers, boatmen, and marchandeaux (costermongers), a whole angry mob, who were for havingAmyot's throat cut, and Trahy made bishop in his stead. "

Whilst the blind passions of fanatics and demagogues were thus let loose, the sensible and clear-sighted spirits, the earnest and moderateroyalists, did not all of them remain silent and motionless. After theappearance of the letters written in 1588 by the Duke of Guise to explainand justify his conduct in this crisis, a grandson of Chancellor del'Hospital, Michael Hurault, Sieur du Fay, published a document, entitledFrank and Free Discourse upon the Condition of France, one of the mostjudicious and most eloquent pamphlets of the sixteenth century, aprofound criticism upon the acts of the Duke of Guise, their causes andconsequences, and a true picture of the falsehoods and servitude intowhich an eminent man may fall when he makes himself the tool of a popularfaction in the hope of making that faction the tool of his personalambition. But even the men who were sufficiently enlightened andsufficiently courageous to tell the League and its leader plain truthsspoke only rather late in the day, and at first without giving theirnames; the document written by L'Hospital's grandson did not appear until1591, after the death of Henry III. And Henry de Guise, and it remainedanonymous for some time. One cannot be astonished at such timidity;Guise himself was timid before the Leaguers, and he always ended byyielding to them in essentials, after having attempted to resist themupon such and such an incidental point. His own people accused him oflacking boldness; and his sister, the Duchess of Montpensier, openlypatronized the most violent preachers, whilst boasting that she wieldedmore influence through them than her brother by his armies. Henry III. , under stress of his enemies' zeal and his own servants' weakness, Catherine de' Medici included, after having fled from Paris and takenrefuge at Chartres to escape the triumph of the Barricades, once morebegan to negotiate, that is, to capitulate with the League; he issued atRouen, on the 19th of July, 1588, an edict in eleven articles, whereby hegranted more than had been demanded, and more than he had promised in1585 by the treaty of Nemours; over and above the measures contained inthat treaty against the Huguenots, in respect of the present and thefuture, he added four fresh surety-towns, amongst others Bourges andOrleans, to those of which the Leaguers were to remain in possession. He declared, moreover, "that no investigation should be made into anyunderstandings, associations, and other matters into which our Catholicsubjects might have entered together; inasmuch as they have given us tounderstand and have informed us that what they did was but owing to thezeal they felt for the preservation and maintenance of the Catholicreligion. " By thus releasing the League from all responsibility for thepast, and by giving this new treaty the name of edict of union, HenryIII. Flattered himself, it is said, that he was thus putting himself atthe head of a new grand Catholic League which would become royalistagain, inasmuch as the king was granting it all it had desired. Theedict of union was enregistered at the Parliament of Paris on the 21st ofJuly. The states-general were convoked for the 15th of Octoberfollowing. "On Tuesday, August 2, his Majesty, " says L'Estoile, "beingentertained by the Duke of Guise during his dinner, asked him for drink, and then said to him, 'To whom shall we drink?' 'To whom you please, sir, ' answered the duke; 'it is for your Majesty to command. ' 'Cousin, 'said the king, 'drink we to our good friends the Huguenots. ' 'It is wellsaid, sir, ' answered the duke. 'And to our good barricaders, ' said theking; 'let us not forget them. ' Whereupon the duke began to laugh alittle, " adds L'Estoile, "but a sort of laugh that did not go beyond theknot of the throat, being dissatisfied at the novel union the king waspleased to make of the Huguenots with the barricaders. " What must haveto some extent reassured the Duke of Guise was, that a Te Deum wascelebrated at Notre-Dame for the King of Navarre's exclusion from allright to the crown, and that, on the 14th of August Henry de Guise wasappointed generalissimo of the royal armies. 

[Illustration: The Castle of Blois----428]

The states-general met at Blois on the 16th of October, 1588. Theynumbered five hundred and five deputies; one hundred and ninety-one ofthe third estate, one hundred and eighty of the noblesse, one hundred andthirty-four of the clergy. The king had given orders "to conduct eachdeputy as they arrived to his cabinet, that he might see, hear, and knowthem all personally. " When the five hundred and five deputies had takentheir places in the hall, the Duke of Guise went to fetch the king, whomade his entry attended by the princes of the blood, and opened thesession with the dignity and easy grace which all the Valois seemed tohave inherited from Francis I. The Duke of Guise, in a coat of whitesatin, was seated at the king's feet, as high steward of his household, scanning the whole assembly with his piercing glance, as if to keep watchover those who were in his service. "He seemed, " says a contemporary, "by a single flash of his eye to fortify them in the hope of theadvancement of his designs; his fortunes, and his greatness, and to sayto them, without speaking, I see you. " The king's speech was long, able, well delivered, and very much applauded, save by Guise himself and hisparticular friends; the firmness of tone had displeased them, and onesentence excited in them a discontent which they had found difficulty inrestraining: certain grandees of my kingdom have formed such leagues andassociations as, in every well-ordered monarchy, are crimes of hightreason, without the sovereign's permission. But, showing my wontedindulgence, I am quite willing to let bygones be bygones in this respect. Guise grew pale at these words. On leaving the royal session, he got hisprivate committee to decide that the Cardinal of Guise and the Archbishopof Lyons should go to see the king, and beg him to abandon the printingof his speech, and meanwhile Guise himself sent to the printer's to stopthe immediate publication. Discussion took place next day in the king'scabinet; and a threat was held out to him that a portion of the deputieswould quit the meeting of states. The queen-mother advised her son tocompromise. The king yielded, according to his custom, and gaveauthority for cutting out the strongest expressions, amongst others thosejust quoted. "The correction was accordingly made, " says M. Picot, thelatest and most able historian of the states-general, "and Henry III. Had to add this new insult to all that were rankling at the bottom of hisheart since the affair of the Barricades. "

This was, for the Duke of Guise, a first trial of his power, and greatwas his satisfaction at this first success. On leaving the openingsession of the states-general, he wrote to the Spanish ambassadorMendoza, "I handled our states so well that I made them resolve torequire confirmation of the edict of union (of July 21 preceding) asfundamental law of the state. The king refused to do so, in rather sharpterms, to the deputies who brought the representation before him, andfrom that it is presumed that he inclines towards a peace with theheretics. But, at last, he was so pressed by the states, the which wereotherwise on the point of breaking up, that he promised to swear theedict and have it sworn before entering upon consideration of anymatter. "

The next day but one, in fact, on the 18th of October, at the secondsession of the states-general, "the edict of July 21 was read andpublished with the greatest solemnity; the king swore to maintain it interms calculated to dissipate all anxieties on the part of the Catholics. The deputies swore after him. The Archbishop of Bourges delivered anaddress on the sanctity of oaths, and those present began to think thesession over, when the king rose a second time to recommend the deputiesnot to leave Blois before the papers were drawn up and the ordinancesmade. He reminded them that at the last assembly of the states thesuggestions and counsels of the three estates had been so ill carried outthat, instead of a reformation and an establishment of good laws, everything had been thrown into confusion. Accordingly the king added tothis suggestion a solemn oath that he would not budge from the city untilhe had made an edict, sacred and inviolable. The enthusiasm of thedeputies was at its height; a rush took place to the church of St. Sauveur to chant a Te Deum. All the princes were there to give thanks toGod. Never were king, court, and people so joyous. " The Duke of Guisewrote to the Spanish ambassador, "At length we have, in full assembly ofthe states, had our edict of union solemnly sworn and established asfundamental law of this realm, having surmounted all the difficulties andhinderances which the king was pleased to throw in the way; I foundmyself four or five times on the point of rupture: but I was verilyassisted by so many good men. "

After as well as before the opening of the states-general, the friends ofthe Duke of Guise were far from having, all of them, the same confidencethat he had in his position and in his success. "Stupid owl of aLorrainer!" said Sieur de Vins, commanding, on behalf of the League, inDauphiny, on reading the duke's despatches, "has he so little sense as tobelieve that a king whose crown he, by dissimulating, has been wanting totake away, is not dissimulating in turn to take away his life?" "As theyare so thick together, " said M. De Vins' sister, when she knew that theDuke of Guise was at Blois with the king, "you will hear, at the veryfirst opportunity, that one or the other has killed his fellow. " Guisehimself was no stranger to this idea. "We are not without warnings fromall quarters that there is a design of attempting my life, " he wrote onthe 21st of September, 1588: "but I have, thank God, so provided againstit, both by the gathering I have made of a good number of my friends, andin having, by presents and money, secured a portion of those whoseservices are relied upon for the execution of it, that, if once thingsbegin, I shall finish more roughly than I did at Paris. "

After the opening of the states-general and the success he obtainedthereat, Guise appeared, if not more anxious, at any rate more attentiveto the warnings he received. On the 10th of December, 1588, he wrote toCommander Moreo, confidential agent from the King of Spain to him, "Youcannot imagine what alarms have been given me since your departure. Ihave so well provided against them that my enemies have not seen theirway to attempting anything. . . . But expenses have grown upon me tosuch an extent that I have great need of your prompt assistance. . . . I have now so much credit with this assembly that I have hitherto made itdance to my tune, and I hope that as to what remains to be decreed Ishall be quite able to maintain the same authority. " Some of hispartisans advised him to go away for a while to Orleans; but heabsolutely refused, repeating, with the Archbishop of Lyons, "He wholeaves the game loses it. " One evening, in a little circle of intimates, on the 21st of December, a question arose whether it would not beadvisable to prevent the king's designs by striking at his person. TheCardinal of Guise begged his brother to go away, assuring him that hisown presence would suffice for the direction of affairs: but, "They arein such case, my friend, " said the Balafre, "that, if I saw death comingin at the window, I would not consent to go out by the door to avoid it. "His cousin, the Duke of Elbeuf, paid him a visit at night to urge him towithdraw himself from the plot hatched against him. "If it werenecessary to lose my life in order to reap the proximate fruits of thestates' good resolution, " said Guise, "that is what I have quite made upmy mind to. Though I had a hundred lives, I would devote them all to theservice of God and His church, and to the relief of the poor people forwhom I feel the greatest pity;" then, touching the Duke of Elbeuf uponthe shoulder, he said, "Go to bed, cousin;" and, taking away his hand andlaying it upon his own heart, he added, "Here is the doublet ofinnocence. " On the evening of the 22d of December, 1588, when Charlottede Semblancay, Marchioness of Noirmoutiers, to whom he was tenderlyattached, pressed him to depart, or at any rate not to be present at thecouncil next day, the only answer he made her was to hum the followingditty, by Desportes, a poet of the day:--

 "My little Rose, a little spell Of absence changed that heart of thine; And I, who know the change full well, Have found another place for mine. No more such fair but fickle she Shall find me her obedient; And, flighty shepherdess, we'll see Which of the twain will first repent. "

Henry III. Was scarcely less disturbed, but in quite a different way, than the Duke of Guise. For a long time past he had been thinking aboutgetting rid of the latter, just as he had thought for a long time, twentyyears before, about getting rid of Admiral de Coligny; but since the dateof his escape from the popular rising on the day of the Barricades, hehad hoped that, thanks to the adoption of the edict of union and to theconvocation of the states-general, he would escape the yoke of the Dukeof Guise. He saw every day that he had been mistaken; the League, andconsequently the Duke of Guise, had more power than he with thestates-general; in vain had the king changed nearly all his ministers; invain had he removed his principal favorite, the Duke of Epernon, from thegovernment of Normandy to that of Provence; he did not obtain from thestates-general what he demanded, that is, the money he wanted; and thestates required of him administrative reforms, sound enough at bottom, but suggested by the Duke of Guise with an interested object, andcalculated to shackle the kingly authority even more than could be doneby Guise himself directly. At the same time that Guise was urging on thestates-general in this path, he demanded to be made constable, not by theking any longer, but by the states themselves. The kingship was thusbeing squeezed between the haughty supremacy of the great lords, substitutes for the feudal regimen, and the first essays of that freegovernment which is nowadays called the parliamentary regimen. HenryIII. Determined with fear and trembling to disembarrass himself of histwo rivals, of the Duke of Guise by assassination, and of thestates-general by packing them off home. He did not know how intimatelythe two great questions of which the sixteenth century was the greatcradle, the question of religious liberty and that of political liberty, were connected one with the other, and would be prosecuted jointly orsuccessively in the natural progress of Christian civilization, orthrough what trials kings and people would have to pass beforesucceeding in any effectual solution of them. 

On the 18th of December, 1588, during an entertainment given by Catherinede' Medici on the marriage of her niece, Christine de Lorraine, withFerdinand de' Medici, Grand Duke of Tuscany, Henry III. Summoned to hiscabinet three of his most intimate and safest confidants, Marshald'Aumont, Nicholas d'Angennes, Lord of Rambouillet, and Sieur de BeauvaisNangis. After having laid before them all the Duke of Guise's intriguesagainst him and the perils of the position in which they placed him, "What ought I to do?" he said; "help me to save myself by some speedymeans. " They asked the king to give them twenty-four hours to answer in. Next day, the 19th, Sieur de Maintenon, brother of Rambouillet, andAlphonso Corso d'Ornano Were added to the party; only one of them was ofopinion that the Duke of Guise should at once be arrested and put uponhis trial; the four others were for a shorter and a surer process, thatof putting the duke to death by a sudden blow. He is evidently makingwar upon the king, they said; and the king has a right to defend himself. Henry III. , who had his mind made up, asked Crillon, commandant of theregiment of guards, "Think you that the Duke of Guise deserves death?""Yes, sir. " "Very well; then I choose you to give it him. " "I am readyto challenge him. " "That is not what is wanted; as leader of theLeague, he is guilty of high treason. " "Very well, sir; then let him betried and executed. " "But, Crillon, nothing is less certain than hisconviction in a court of law; he must be struck down unexpectedly. ""Sir, I am a soldier, not an assassin. " The king did not persist, butmerely charged Crillon, who promised, to keep the proposal secret. Atthis very time Guise was requesting the king to give him a constable'sgrand provost and archers to form his guard in his quality oflieutenant-general of the kingdom. The king deferred his reply. Catherine de' Medici supported the Lorrainer prince's request. "In twoor three days it shall be settled, " said Henry. He had ordered twelveponiards from an armorer's in the city; on the 21st of December he toldhis project to Loignac, an officer of his guards, who was lessscrupulous than Crillon, and undertook to strike the blow, in concertwith the forty-five trusty guards. At the council on the 22d ofDecember, the king announced his intention of passing Christmas inretreat at Notre-Dame de Cleri, and he warned the members of the councilthat next day the session would take place very early in order todispose of business before his departure. On the evening of the 22d, theDuke of Guise, on sitting down at table, found under his napkin a noteto this effect: "The king means to kill you. " Guise asked for a pen, wrote at the bottom of the note, "He dare not, " and threw it under thetable. Next day, December 23, Henry III. , rising at four A. M. , after anight of great agitation, admitted into his cabinet by a secretstaircase the nine guards he had chosen, handed them the poniards he hadordered, placed them at the post where they were to wait for the meetingof the council, and bade Charles d'Entragues to go and request one ofthe royal chaplains "to say mass, that God might give the king grace tobe able to carry out an enterprise which he hoped would come to an issuewithin an hour, and on which the safety of France depended. " Then theking retired into his closet. The members of the council arrived insuccession; it is said that one of the archers on duty, when he saw theDuke of Guise mounting the staircase, trod on his foot, as if to givehim warning; but, if he observed it, Guise made no account of it, anymore than of all the other hints he had already received. Beforeentering the council-chamber, he stopped at a small oratory connectedwith the chapel, said his prayer, and as he passed the door of thequeen-mother's apartments, signified his desire to pay his respects andhave a few words with her. Catherine was indisposed, and could notreceive him. Some vexation, it is said, appeared in Guise's face, buthe said not a word. On entering the council-chamber he felt cold, askedto have some fire lighted, and gave orders to his secretary, Pericard, the only attendant admitted with him, to go and fetch the silver-giltshell he was in the habit of carrying about him with damsons or otherpreserves to eat of a morning. Pericard was some time gone; Guise wasin a hurry, and, "Be kind enough, " he said to M. De Morfontaines, "tosend word to M. De Saint-Prix [first groom of the chamber to HenryIII. ], that I beg him to let me have a few damsons or a little preserveof roses, or some trifle of the king's. " Four Brignolles plums werebrought him; and he ate one. His uneasiness continued; the eye close tohis scar became moist; according to M. De Thou, he bled at the nose. Hefelt in his pocket for a handkerchief to use, but could not find one. "My people, " said he, "have not given me my necessaries this morning:there is great excuse for them; they were too much hurried. " At hisrequest, Saint-Prix had a handkerchief brought to him. Pericard passedhis bonbon-box to him, as the guards would not let him enter again. Theduke took a few plums from it, threw the rest on the table, saying, "Gentlemen, who will have any?" and rose up hurriedly upon seeing thesecretary of state Revol, who came in and said to him, "Sir, the kingwants you; he is in his old cabinet. "

As soon as he knew that the Duke of Guise had arrived, and whilst theselittle incidents were occurring in the council-chamber, Henry III. Had infact given orders to his secretary Revol to go on his behalf and summonthe duke. But Nambu, usher to the council, faithful to his instructions, had refused to let anybody, even the king's secretary, enter the hall. Revol, of a timid disposition, and impressed, it is said, with thesinister importance of his commission, returned to the cabinet with avery troubled air. The king, in his turn, was troubled, fearing lest hisproject had been discovered. "What is the matter, Revol?" said he; "whatis it? How pale you are! You will spoil all. Rub your cheeks; rub yourcheeks. " "There is nothing wrong, sir: only M. De Nambu would not letme in without your Majesty's express command. " Revol entered thecouncil-chamber and discharged his commission. The Duke of Guise pulledup his cloak as if to wrap himself well in it, took his hat, gloves, andhis sweetmeat-box, and went out of the room, saying, "Adieu, gentlemen, "with a gravity free from any appearance of mistrust. He crossed theking's chamber contiguous to the council-hall, courteously saluted, as hepassed, Loignac and his comrades, whom he found drawn up, and who, returning him a frigid obeisance, followed him as if to show him respect. On arriving at the door of the old cabinet, and just as he leaned down toraise the tapestry that covered it, Guise was struck five poniard blowsin the chest, neck, and reins. "God ha' mercy!" he cried, and, thoughhis sword was entangled in his cloak, and he was himself pinned by thearms and legs and choked by the blood that spurted from his throat, hedragged his murderers, by a supreme effort of energy, to the other end ofthe room, where he fell down backwards and lifeless before the bed ofHenry III. , who, coming to the door of his room and asking "if it wasdone, " contemplated with mingled satisfaction and terror the inanimatebody of his mighty rival, "who seemed to be merely sleeping, so littlewas he changed. " "My God! how tall he is!" cried the king; "he lookseven taller than when he was alive. "

[Illustration: Henry III. And the Murder of Guise----437]

"They are killing my brother!" cried the Cardinal of Guise, when he heardthe noise that was being made in the next room; and he rose up to runthither. The Archbishop of Lyons, Peter d'Espinac, did the same. TheDuke of Aumont held them both back, saying, "Gentlemen, we must wait forthe king's orders. " Orders came to arrest them both, and confine them ina small room over the council-chamber. They had "eggs, bread, wine fromthe king's cellar, their breviaries, their night-gowns, a palliasse, anda mattress, " brought to them there; and they were kept under ocularsupervision for four and twenty hours. The Cardinal of Guise wasreleased the next morning, but only to be put to death like his brother. The king spared the Archbishop of Lyons. 

"I am sole king, " said Henry III. To his ministers, as he entered thecouncil-chamber; and shortly afterwards, going to see the queen-mother, who was ill of the gout, "How do you feel?" he asked. "Better, " sheanswered. "So do I, " replied the king: "I feel much better; this morningI have become King of France again; the King of Paris is dead. " "Youhave had the Duke of Guise killed?" asked Catherine "have you reflectedwell? God grant that you become not king of nothing at all. I hope thecutting is right; now for the sewing. " According to the majority of thehistorians, Catherine had neither been in the secret nor had anything todo with the preparations for the measure. Granted that she took noactive part in it, and that she avoided even the appearance of having anyprevious knowledge of it; she was not fond of responsibility, and sheliked better to negotiate between the different parties than to make herdecisive choice between them; prudent tendencies grow with years, and in1588 she was sixty-nine. It is difficult, however, to believe that, being the habitual confidant of her favorite son, she was ignorant of adesign long meditated, and known to many persons many days before itsexecution. The event once accomplished, ill as she was, and contrary tothe advice of her physicians, she had herself carried to the Cardinal ofBourbon's, who was still under arrest by the king's orders, to promisehim speedy release. "Ah! madame, " said the cardinal, as he saw herenter, "these are some of your tricks; you are death to us all. " Howeverit may be, thirteen days after the murder of the Duke of Guise, on the5th of January, 1589, Catherine de' Medici herself died. Nor was herdeath, so far as affairs and the public were concerned, an event: herability was of the sort which is worn out by the frequent use madeof it, and which, when old age comes on, leaves no long or gratefulreminiscence. Time has restored Catherine de' Medici to her proper placein history; she was quickly forgotten by her contemporaries. 

She had good reason to say to her son, as her last advice, "Now for thesewing. " It was not long before Henry III. Perceived that to be king, itwas not sufficient to have murdered his rival. He survived the Duke ofGuise only seven months, and during that short period he was not reallyking, all by himself, for a single day; never had his kingship been soembarrassed and impotent; the violent death of the Duke of Guise hadexasperated much more than enfeebled the League; the feeling against hismurderer was passionate and contagious; the Catholic cause had lost itsgreat leader; it found and accepted another in his brother the Duke ofMayenne, far inferior to his elder brother in political talent and promptenergy of character, but a brave and determined soldier, a much betterman of party and action than the sceptical, undecided, and indolent HenryIII. The majority of the great towns of France--Paris, Rouen, Orleans, Toulouse, Lyons, Amiens--and whole provinces declared eagerly against theroyal murderer. He demanded support from the states-general, who refusedit; and he was obliged to dismiss them. The Parliament of Paris, dismembered on the 16th of January, 1589, by the council of Sixteen, became the instrument of the Leaguers. The majority of the otherParliaments followed the example set by that of Paris. The Sorbonne, consulted by a petition presented in the name of all Catholics, decidedthat Frenchmen were released from their oath of allegiance to Henry III. , and might with a good conscience turn their arms against him. Henry madesome obscure attempts to come to an arrangement with certain chiefs ofthe Leaguers; but they were rejected with violence. The Duke of Mayenne, having come to Paris on the 15th of February, was solemnly received atNotre-Dame, amidst shouts of "Hurrah for the Catholic princes! hurrah forthe house of Lorraine!" He was declared lieutenant-general of the crownand state of France. He organized a council-general of the League, composed of forty members and charged with the duty of providing for allmatters of war, the finance and the police of the realm, pending a freshconvocation of states-general. To counterbalance in some degree thepopular element, Mayenne introduced into it fourteen personages of hisown choice and a certain number of magistrates and bishops; the delegatesof the united towns were to have seats at the council whenever theyhappened to be at Paris. "Never, " says M. Henry Martin [_Histoire deFrance, _ t. I. P. 134] very truly, "could the League have supposeditself to be so near becoming a government of confederated municipalitiesunder the directorate of Paris. "

There was clearly for Henry III. But one possible ally who had a chanceof doing effectual service, and that was Henry of Navarre and theProtestants. It cost Henry III. A great deal to have recourse to thatparty; his conscience and his pusillanimity both revolted at it equally;in spite of his moral corruption, he was a sincere Catholic, and theprospect of excommunication troubled him deeply. Catholicism, besides, was in a large majority in France: how, then, was he to treat with itsfoes without embroiling himself utterly with it? Meanwhile the case wasurgent. Henry was apprised by one of his confidants, Nicholas deRambouillet, that one of the King of Navarre's confidants, Sully, who wasthen only Sieur de Rosny, was passing by Blois on his way to his master;he saw him and expressed to him his "desire for a reconciliation with theKing of Navarre, and to employ him on confidential service;" thedifficulty was to secure to the Protestant king and his army, thenengaged in the siege of Chatellerault, a passage across the Loire. Rosnyundertook Henry III. 's commission. He at the same time received anotherfrom Sieur de Brigueux, governor of the little town of Beaugency, whosaid to him, "I see well, sir, that the king is going the right way toruin himself by timidity, irresolution, and bad advice, and thatnecessity will throw us into the hands of the League: for my part, I willnever belong to it, and I would rather serve the King of Navarre. Tellhim that I hold, at Beaugency, a passage over the Loire, and that if hewill be pleased to send to me you or M. De Rebours, I will admit into thetown him whom he sends to me. " Upon receiving these overtures, the Kingof Navarre thought a while, scratching his head; then he said to Rosny, "Do you think that the king has good intentions towards me, and means totreat with me in good faith?" "Yes, sir, for the present; and you needhave no doubt about it, for his straits constrain him thereto, havingnothing to look to in his perils but your assistance. " He had somedinner brought into his own cabinet for Rosny, and then made him post offat once. On arriving in the evening at Tours, whither Henry III. Hadfallen back, Rosny was taken to him, about midnight, at the top of thecastle; the king sent him off that very night; he consented to everythingthat the King of Navarre proposed; promised him a town on the Loire, andsaid he was ready to make with him not a downright peace just at first, but "a good long truce, which, in their two hearts, would at once be aneternal peace and a sincere reconciliation. "

When Rosny got back to Chatellerault, "there was nothing but rejoicing;everybody ran to meet him; he was called 'god Rosny, ' and one of hisfriends said to the rest, 'Do you see yon man? By God, we shall allworship him, and he alone will restore France; I said so six years ago, and Villandry was of my opinion. '"

Thus was the way paved and the beginning made, between the two kings, ofan alliance demanded by their mutual interests, and still more stronglyby the interests of France, ravaged and desolated, for nearly thirtyyears past, by religious civil wars. Henry of Navarre had profoundsympathy for his country's sufferings, an ardent desire to put a stop tothem, and at the same time the instinct to see clearly that the day hadcome when the re-establishment of harmony and common action betweenhimself and Henry de Valois was the necessary and at the same timepossible means of attaining that great result. On the 4th of March, 1589, soon after the states of Blois had been dismissed, he set beforeFrance, in an eloquent manifesto, the expression of his anxieties and hiscounsels: "I will speak freely, " said he, "to myself first and then toothers, that we may be all of us without excuse. Let us not be puffed upwith pride on one side or another. As for me, although I have receivedmore favors from God in this than in all past wars, and, whilst the twoother parties (how sad that they must be so called!) are enfeebled, mine, to all appearance, has been strengthened, nevertheless I well know that, whenever I go beyond my duty, God will no longer bless me; and I shall doso whenever, without reason and in sheer lightness of heart, I attack myking and trouble the repose of his kingdom. . . . I declare, then, first of all to those who belong to the party of the king my lord, thatif they do not counsel him to make use of me, and of the means which Godhath given me, for to make war, not on them of Lorraine, not on Paris, Orleans, or Toulouse, but on those who shall hinder the peace and theobedience owed to this crown, they alone will be answerable for the woeswhich will come upon the king and the kingdom. . . . And as to thosewho still adhere to the name and party of the League, I, as a Frenchman, conjure them to put up with their losses as I do with mine, and tosacrifice their quarrels, vengeance, and ambition to the welfare ofFrance, their mother, to the service of their king, to their own reposeand ours. If they do otherwise, I hope that God will not abandon theking, and will put it into his heart to call around him his servants, myself the first, who wish for no other title, and who shall havesufficient might and good right to help him wipe out their memory fromthe world and their party from France. . . . I wish these writtenwords to go proclaiming for me throughout the world that I am ready toask my lord the king for peace, for the repose of his kingdom and for myown. . . . And finally, if I find one or another so sleepy-headed orso ill-disposed that none is moved thereby, I will call God to my aid, and, true servant of my king, worthy of the honor that belongs to me aspremier prince of this realm, though all the world should have conspiredfor its ruin, I protest, before God and before man, that, at the risk often thousand lives, I will essay--all alone--to prevent it. "

It is pleasing to think that this patriotic step and these powerful wordswere not without influence over the result which was attained. The Kingof Navarre set to work, at the same time with Rosny, one, of the mosteminent, and with Philip du Plessis-Mornay, the most sterling of hisservants; and a month after the publication of his manifesto, on the 3dof April, 1589, a truce for a year was concluded between the two kings. It set forth that the King of Navarre should serve the King of Francewith all his might and main; that he should have, for the movements ofhis troops on both banks of the Loire, the place of Saumur; that theplaces of which he made himself master should be handed over to HenryIII. , and that he might not anywhere do anything to the prejudice of theCatholic religion; that the Protestants should be no more disquietedthroughout the whole of France, and that, before the expiration of thetruce, King Henry III. Should give them assurance of peace. Thisnegotiation was not concluded without difficulty, especially as regardedthe town of Saumur; there was a general desire to cede to the King ofNavarre only some place of less importance on the Loire; and when, on the15th of April, Du Plessis-Mornay, who had been appointed governor of it, presented himself for admittance at the head of his garrison, theroyalist commandant, who had to deliver the keys to him, limited himselfto letting them drop at his feet. Mornay showed alacrity in picking themup. 

On the 29th of April, the two kings had, each on his own behalf, madetheir treaty public. Henry III. Sent word to the King of Navarre that hewished to see him and have some conversation with him. Many of the Kingof Navarre's friends dissuaded him from this interview, saying, "Theyare traitors; do not put yourself in their power; remember theSt. Bartholomew. " This counsel was repeated to him on the 30th of April, at the very moment when he was stepping aboard the boat to cross theLoire and go to pay Henry III. A visit at the castle of Plessis-les-Tours. The King of Navarre made no account of it. "God hath bidden meto cross and see him, " he answered: "it is not in the power of man tokeep me back, for God is guiding me and crossing with me. Of that I amcertain;" and he crossed the river. "It is incredible, " says L'Estoile, "what joy everybody felt at this interview; there was such a throng ofpeople that, notwithstanding all efforts to preserve order, the two kingswere a full quarter of an hour in the roadway of Plessis park holding outtheir hands to one another without being able to join them; peopleclimbed trees to see them; all shouted with great vigor and exultation, Hurrah for the king! hurrah for the King of Navarre! hurrah for thekings! At last, having joined hands, they embraced very lovingly, evento tears. The King of Navarre, on retiring in the evening, said, 'Ishall now die happy, since God hath given me grace to look upon the faceof my king and make him an offer of my services. ' I know not if thosewere his own words; but what is certain is, that everybody at this time, both kings and people, except fanatical Leaguers, regarded peace as agreat public blessing, and were rejoiced to have a prospect of it beforetheir eyes. The very day of the interview, the King of Navarre wrote toDu Plessis-Mornay, 'M. Du Plessis, the ice is broken; not without numbersof warnings that if I went I was a dead man. I crossed the water, commending myself to God, who, by His goodness, not only preserved me, but caused extreme joy to appear on the king's countenance, and thepeople to cheer so that never was the like, even shouting, Hurrah for thekings! whereat I was much vexed. '"

Some days afterwards, during the night of May 8, the Duke of Mayenne madean attack upon Tours, and carried for the moment the Faubourg St. Symphorien, which gave Henry III. Such a fright that he was on the pointof leaving the city and betaking himself to a distance. But the King ofNavarre, warned in time, entered Tours; and at his approach the Leaguersfell back. "When the white scarfs appeared, coming to the king's rescue, the Duke of Mayenne and his troops began shouting to them, 'Back! whitescarfs; back! Chatillon: we are not set against you, but against themurderers of your father!' meaning thereby that they were set againstKing Henry de Valois only, and not against the Huguenots. But Chatillon, amongst the rest, answered them, 'You are all of you traitors to yourcountry: I trample under foot all vengeance and all private interestswhen the service of my prince and of the state is concerned; 'which hesaid so loudly that even his Majesty heard it, and praised him for it, and loved him for it. " The two kings determined to move on Paris andbesiege it; and towards the end of July their camp was pitched before thewalls. 

Great was the excitement throughout Europe as well as France, at thecourts of Madrid and Rome as well as in the park of Plessis-les-Tours. A very serious blow for Philip II. , and a very bad omen for the futureof his policy, was this alliance between Henry de Valois and Henry ofNavarre, between a great portion of the Catholics of France and theProtestants. Philip II. Had plumed himself upon being the patron ofabsolute power in religious as well as political matters, and thedominant power throughout Europe in the name of Catholicism and Spain. In both these respects he ran great risk of being beaten by a King ofFrance who was a Protestant or an ally of Protestants and supported bythe Protestant influence of England, Holland, and Germany. In Italyitself and in Catholic Europe Philip did not find the harmony and supportfor which he looked. The republic of Venice was quietly but certainlywell disposed towards France, and determined to live on good terms with aKing of France, a friend of Protestants or even himself Protestant. Andwhat hurt Philip II. Still more was, that Pope Sixtus V. Himself, thoughall the while upholding the unity and authority of the Roman church, was bent upon not submitting to the yoke of Spain, and upon showing afavorable disposition towards France. "France is a very noble kingdom, "he said to the Venetian ambassador Gritti; "the church has alwaysobtained great advantages from her. We love her beyond measure, and weare pleased to find that the Signiory shares our affection. " Another dayhe expressed to him his disapprobation of the League. "We cannot praise, indeed we must blame, the first act committed by the Duke of Guise, whichwas to take up arms and unite with other princes against the king; thoughhe made religion a pretext, he had no right to take up arms against hissovereign. " And again: "The union of the King of France with theheretics is no longer a matter of doubt; but, after all, Henry of Navarreis worth a great many of Henry III. ; this latter will have the measure hemeted to the Guises. " So much equity and mental breadth on the pope'spart was better suited for the republic of Venice than for the King ofSpain. "We have but one desire, " wrote the Doge Cicogna to Badoero, hisambassador at Rome, "and that is to keep the European peace. We cannotbelieve that Sixtus V. , that great pontiff, is untrue to his charge, which is to ward off from the Christian world the dangers that threatenit; in imitation of Him whom he represents on earth, he will show mercy, and not proceed to acts which would drive the King of France to despair. "During the great struggle with which Europe was engaged in the sixteenthcentury, the independence of states, religious tolerance, and politicalliberty thus sometimes found, besides their regular and declaredchampions, protectors, useful on occasion although they were timid, evenamongst the habitual allies of Charles V. 's despotic and persecutingsuccessor. 

On arriving before Paris towards the end of July, 1589, the two kingsbesieged it with an army of forty-two thousand men, the strongest and thebest they had ever had under their orders. "The affairs of Henry III. , "says De Thou, "had changed face; fortune was pronouncing for him. "Quartered in the house of Count de Retz, at St. Cloud, he could thencesee quite at his ease his city of Paris. "Yonder, " said he, "is theheart of the League; it is there that the blow must be struck. It wasgreat pity to lay in ruins so beautiful and goodly a city. Still, I mustsettle accounts with the rebels who are in it, and who ignominiouslydrove me away. " "On Tuesday, August 1, at eight A. M. , he was told, "says L'Estoile, "that a monk desired to speak with him, but that hisguards made a difficulty about letting him in. 'Let him in, ' said theking: 'if he is refused, it will be said that I drive monks away and willnot see them. ' Incontinently entered the monk, having in his sleeve aknife unsheathed. He made a profound reverence to the king, who had justgot up and had nothing on but a dressing-gown about his shoulders, andpresented to him despatches from Count de Brienne, saying that he hadfurther orders to tell the king privately something of importance. Thenthe king ordered those who were present to retire, and began reading theletter which the monk had brought asking for a private audienceafterwards; the monk, seeing the king's attention taken up with reading, drew his knife from his sleeve and drove it right into the king's smallgut, below the navel, so home that he left the knife in the hole; thewhich the king having drawn out with great exertion struck the monk ablow with the point of it on his left eyebrow, crying, 'Ah! wicked monk!he has killed me; kill him!' At which cry running quickly up, the guardsand others, such as happened to be nearest, massacred this assassin of aJacobin who, as D'Aubigne says, stretched out his two arms against thewall, counterfeiting the crucifix, whilst the blows were dealt him. Having been dragged out dead from the king's chamber, he was strippednaked to the waist, covered with his gown and exposed to the public. "

Whilst Henry de Valois was thus struck down at St. Cloud, Henry ofNavarre had moved with a good number of troops to the Pre-aux-Clercs;and seeing Rosny, who was darting along, pistol in hand, amongst theforemost, he called one of his gentlemen and said, "Maignan, go and tellM. De Rosny to come back; he will get taken or wounded in that rashstyle. " "I should not care to speak so to him, " answered Maignan. "Iwill tell him that your Majesty wants him. " Meanwhile up came agentleman at a gallop, who said three or four words in the King ofNavarre's ear. "My friend, " said Henry to Rosny, "the king has just beenwounded with a knife in the stomach; let us go and see about it; comewith me. " Henry took with him five and twenty gentlemen. The kingreceived him affectionately, exhorted him to change his religion for hissalvation's sake in another world and his fortunes in this; and, addressing the people of quality who thronged his chamber, he said, "I dopray you as my friends, and as your king I order you, to recognize aftermy death my brother here. For my satisfaction and as your bounden duty, I pray you to swear it to him in my presence. " All present took theoath. Henry III. Spoke in a firm voice; and his wound was not believedto be mortal. Letters were sent in his name to the queen, to thegovernors of the provinces and to the princes allied to the crown, toinform them of the accident that had happened to the king, "which, pleaseGod, will turn out to be nothing. " The King of Navarre asked for somedetails as to the assassin. James Clement was a young Dominican who, according to report, had been a soldier before he became a monk. He wasalways talking of waging war against Henry de Valois, and he was called"Captain Clement. " He told a story about a vision he had of an angel, who had bidden him "to put to death the tyrant of France, in return forwhich he would have the crown of martyrdom. " Royalist writers reportthat he had been placed in personal communication with the friends ofHenry de Guise, even with his sister the Duchess of Montpensier, and hisbrother the Duke of Mayenne. When well informed of the facts, the Kingof Navarre returned to his quarters at Meudon, and Rosny to his lodgingat the foot of the castle. Whilst Rosny was at supper, his secretarycame and said to him, "Sir, the King of Navarre, peradventure the King ofFrance, wants you. M. D'Orthoman writes to him to make haste and come toSt. Cloud if he would see the king alive. " The King of Navarre at oncedeparted. Just as he arrived at St. Cloud, he heard in the street criesof "Ah! my God, we are lost!" He was told that the king was dead. HenryIII. , in fact, expired on the 2d of August, 1589, between two and threein the morning. The first persons Henry of Navarre encountered as heentered the Hotel de Retz were the officers of the Scottish guard, whothrew themselves at his feet, saying, "Ah! sir, you are now our king andour master. "

[Illustration: Henry of Navarre and the Scotch Guard----448]

END OF VOLUME IV.