ISTORY OF FRANCE,
FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES
TO
MDCCCXLVIII.
BY
THE REV. JAMES WHITE,
AUTHOR OF "THE EIGHTEEN CHRISTIAN CENTURIES."
NEW YORK:
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,
443 & 445 BROADWAY.
1868.








P RE FACE.
THIs book makes an attempt to furnish a readable
account of the country with which we are in closest
neighbourhood, and yet of whose history the generality
of us know less than of that of almost any other kingdom. It aims at something higher than a mere epitome,
for it founds itself on a great deal of various reading,
and gives results more than abstracts. At the same
time, it devotes sufficient space to any occurrences
which seem to have a general bearing on the progress
or character of the nation. But it does not profess to
be very minute in its record of trifling or uninfluential
occurrences, nor philosophic in searching out the causes
of obscure events.
If it gives new information to any youthful student,
or induces him to search in other quarters for more,
or if it recalls to maturer readers scenes and incidents
they have nearly forgotten, one of the objects of the
writer will be gained.  He believes, however, there is
a large class of persons, at the present day, neither
ambitious schoolboys nor forgetful middle-aged men,
but members of Mechanics' Institutes and other socie



4                    PREFACE.
ties for voluntary education, who are anxious for historical as well as other kinds of knowledge, but who
are repelled from the attempt to acquire it by the dryness of the narrative and the uninteresting style of the
smaller volumes devoted to this subject, and by the
time and labour required for the perusal of the larger
and more valuable works. If this short and easilymastered History of France is found to supply the
want hitherto experienced among those associations, as
well as by the classes named above, the Author's highest ambition will be gratified.




CONTENTS.
CHAP.                                                       PAGN
I. THE GAULS.-THE ROMIANS.-CLOVIS AND THE FRANKS, A. D. 482.
-PEPIN, A. D. 752.-HUGH  CAPET, A. D. 987,             9
II. FROM HUGH CAPET, A. D. 987, TO PHILIP AUGUTSTUS, A. D. 1180,   38
III. FROM PHILIP AUGUSTUS, A. D. 1180, TO THE DEATH OF SAINT
LOUIS, A. D. 1271,......  56
IV. FROM PHILIP THE HARDY, A. D. 127'1, TO CHARLES THE FIFTH,
A. D. 1364.......81
V. FROM CHARLES THE FIFTH, A. D. 1364, TO THE RECOGNITION OF
HENRY THE FIFTH OF ENGLAND, A. D. 1420,... 116
VI. FROM CHARLES THE SEVENTH, A. D. 1423, TO LOUIS THE ELEVENTH1 A. D. 1461,......150
VII. FROM LOUIS THE ELEVENTH, A. D. 1461, TO HIS DEATH, A. D. 1483, 177
VIII. CHARLES THE EIGHTH, A. D. 1483, TO THE DEATH OF LOUIS THE
TWELFTHI A. D. 1515,..... 202
IX. FRANCIS THE FIRST, A. D. 1515, TO A. D. 1547,... 227
X. HENRY THE SECOND, A. D. 1547, TO A. D. 1559,... 246
XI. CHARLES THE NINTH, A D. 1560, TO THE ACCESSION OF HENRY
THE FOURTH, A. D. 1594,.... 268




6                          CONTENTS.
CHAP.                                                        PAGE
XII. HENRY THE FOURTH, A. D. 1594, TO THE DEATH OF LOUIS THE
THIRTEENTH, A. D. 1643,.....296
XIII. LOUIS THE FOURTEENTH.-THE MAZARIN MINISTRY, A. D. 1643,
TO A. D. 1661,...... 324
XIV. THE KING REIGNS AND GOVERNS, A. D. 1662, TO THE PEACE OF
NIMEGUEN, A. D. 1678,..... 346
XV. GRANDEUR AND FALL OF LOTUIS, A. D. 1678, TO A. D. 1715,. 363
XVI. LOUIS THE FIFTEENTH.-REGENCY OF THE DUKE OF ORLEANS.A. D. 1715, TO A. D. 1723.-A. D. 1723 TO A. D. 1774,. 388
xvII. LOUIS THE SIXTEENTH, A. D. 1774 TO A. D. 1793,.. 418
XVIII. THE REPUBLIC, A. D. 1793, TO THE FIRST CONSULSHIP, A. D. 1799, 443
XIX. THE FIRST CONSULSHIP. —THE EMPIRE, TO THE AUSTRIAN MAnRIAGE.-A. D. 1799, TO A. D. 1810,.... 477
XX. THE EMPIRE.-FROM THE AUSTRIAN MARRIAGE, A. D. 1810, TO
THE DEATH OF LOUIS THE EIGHTEENTH, A. D. 1824,..505
XXI. CHARLES THE TENTH, A. D. 1824, TO THE REPUBLIC, A. D. 1848,  537




CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF THE FRENCH KINGS.
KINGS  OF  THE  FRANKS.
MTeroDingian fine.
A. D.
496.   CLOVIS.
511.   THIERRY, CLODOMIIR, CHILDEBERT, CLOTAIIRE.
559.   CLOTHAIRE.
561.   CHARIBERT, GONTRAN, CHILPERIO, SIGHEBERT.
584.   CIHILDEBERT.
596.   THEODEBERT, THIERRY II., CLOTHAIRE IL
628.   DAGOBERT.
638.   CLOVIS II., SIGIIEBERT II.
656.   CLOTHAIRE III., CHILPERIe II.
673.   THIERRY III., DAGOBERT II.
690.   CLovIs III.
695.   CHILDEBERT III.
711.   DAGOBERT III.
716.   CHILPERIC III.'720.   TnIIERRY IV.
741.   CHILPERIO IV.
Carlouingian jine.'752.   PEPIN.
768.   CHIARLEMAGNE.
814.   Louis (the Debonnaire).
KINGS OF FRANCE.
843.   CHARLES (the Bald.)
877.   Loruis (thle Stammerer).
879.   LouIs III., and CARLOMAN.
884.   CHARLES (the Fat).
887.   HUGH (or Eudes).
898.   CHARLES (the Simple).
923.   RAOuL.
936.   Louis IV.
954.   LOTHAIRE.
986.   Louis V.




8                  CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE.
-(apeatian Kine.
A.D.
987.   HlGH CAPET.
996.   ROBERT.
1031.   HENRY IL
1060.   PHILIP I.
1108.   Louis VI. (the Fat).
1137.   LouIs VII. (the Young).
1180.   PHILIP II. (Philip Augustus).
1223.   Louis VIII.
1226.   LoUrs IX. (Saint Louis).
1270.   PHILIP III. (the Hardy).
1285.   PHILIP IV. (the Handsome).
1314.   LoUIs X. (the Hutin, or Quarrelsome).
1316.   PHILIP V. (the Long).
1322.   CHARLES IV. (the Handsome)
baloio  3randh.
1328.   PHILIP VI. (de Valois).
1350.   JOHN (the Good).
1364.   CHARLES V.
1380.   CHARLES VI.
1422.   CHARLES VII.
1461.   Louis XI.
1483.   CHARLES VIII.
l~aloi,-Orlean,.
1498.   Louis XII.
baloi- 2ngouoleme.
1515.   FRANCIS I.
1547.   HENRY II.
1559.   FRANCIS II.
1560.   CHARLES IX.
1574.   HENRY III.
3ourbon B3randc.
1589.   HENRY IV.
1610.   Louis XIII.
1643.   Louis XIV.
1715.   Louis XV.
1774.   Louis XVI.
1793.            THE REPuBLIC.
1804.            THE EMPIRE-NAPOLEON.
1814.   Louis XVIII.
1824.   CHARLES X.
KING OF THE FRENCH.
ourbon- (!leants.
1830.   Louis PHILIPPE.
1848.            REPUBLIO.




HISTORY OF FRANCE.
CHAPTER I.
THE M(AULS.-THE ROMANS.-CLOVIS AND THE FRANKS, A. D. 482.PEPIN, A. D. 752.-HUGH CAPET, A. D. 98r.
THIS little book is not presumptuously intended for the perusal of the wise and learned, but for those who wish to recall
the historic knowledge which time has nearly obliteratedc, and
also for that larger and increasing class who desire to be informed shortly and intelligibly of what is most important to
be known in the annals of various states. We have, therefore, undertaken to be their conductor through the devious
windings and varied scenery of the History of France. But,
like a cautious guide who is not very sure of his ground, especially at the beginning of his journey, we will avoid, as much
as p.ossible, all obscure and dangerous places, and merely ask
them to take their station every now and then on some commanding eminence, and contemplate at their ease the prospect at their feet. They will see unrolled before them, like
a series of dissolving views, the strongly-marked periods of a
great nation's career; wild populations reclaimed by contact
with their Roman conquerors, and sinking into barbarism
again under the trampling heels of another race of invaders
from the forests of Germany. A little time longer, and they
will see the civilising element, which was never entirely oblit



10                  INTRODUCTORY.
erated, asserting its power over the mixed mass of the Franks
and Gaels; and, gradually combining, gradually re-forming,
gradually softening, and giving way to the bent of their inborn genius, they will see the descendants of those ferocious
tribes claiming to be the most polished, the most warlike, the
most accomplished nation in Europe. If we do not go quite
so far as to grant them the position they arrogate, and agree
with their own historians, that they are at the head of modern civilisation in all its branches, we shall not be blind or
disingenuous enough to deny that, in all the departments of
intellectual exertion, they hold a foremost place; that if they
have no Newton, no Locke, nor Shakespeare, they have many
philosophers and many poets; that the fleur-cle-lis and the
tricolor have waved in many a glorious field; and that the
elegancies of life and the charms of manner were never carried
to such a pitch before.
Some years ago it would have been an unexampled stretch
of liberality to have confessed that France had any good
qualities at all. We were in the habit of wrapping ourselves
up very conifortably in the folds of our own conceit, and looking down on the rest of mankind as a very inferior race of
mortals. We took the additional precaution of maintaining
our own superiority by calling our neighbours by the most
insulting names. WVe pictured them as the most ludicrous
imitations of humanity, as if one of Nature's journeymen had
made the Frenchman, and not made him  well. He was a
lean, half-starvedl, lanky-legged creature, looking in hopeless
despair, with watery mouth and bleared eyes, at a round of
English beef. His attitudes were grotesque, his language
even became immensely amusing, because he did not speak
our tongue with the slang of a hackney-coachman and the
pronunciation of a Cockney. We called him  Jack Frog,
because we believed he fed on those unsubstantial animals,
which we also fancied the exact image of himself in hoppiness
of motion and yellowness of skin. His cowardice was unvarying. One Englishman was always equal to half-a-dozen of
the " mounseers; " and, in short, we werq a most unjust,




ENGLISH PREJUDICE.                  11
narrow-minded, pudding-headed set of self-glorifiers, adding
to the isolation that belongs to the whole nation in right of
its four seas the still more separating insularity of our own
individual opinions.  We were islands altogether, nowhere
connected with the rest of mankind. Our country was an
island, we despised the rest of Europe; our county was an
island, we despised the other shires; our parish was an
island, with peculiar habits, modes and institutions; our
households were islands; and, to complete the whole, each
stubborn, broad-shouldered, strong-backed Englishman was
an island himself, surrounded by a misty and tumultuous sea
of prejudices and hatreds, generally unapproachable, and at.
all times utterly repudiative of a permanent bridge. We are
better now.  The sea, where it is not drained off, is very calm
and very shallow.  We look with clearer eyes upon distant
and unaccustomecl objects.  We can believe that the marshals of the Emperor and generals of the Restoration can be
chivalrous soldiers and kind-hearted men;, that a Dutchman
does not wear seven pairs of trousers; that an Italian sometimes succeeds in not murdering his mother; and that,
granted the same conditions, the conduct of a Swede, of an
Austrian, of a Prussian, and even of a Muscovite, would be
very much the same. It is lucky that this change of opinion
and widening of our sympathies has taken place; for if all
our inquiries in these historic sketches were to end in the
production of the cringing, grinning, trembling mountebank
and impostor it was anciently the -fashion to consider the
Frenchman, the labour would be greatly misapplied.  But
our investigation will not be so poorly rewarded as this. It
will end with the presentment of a nation filled with many
grand recollections, and, in spite of present appearances,
buoyant with grander future hopes-a people so ingenious,
so intellectual, and so active, that its influence thrills through
the thoughts of Europe with the rapidity and clearness of the
electric wires; and so powerful, by the size and situation of
its domain, and the bravery of its armies/ that the authority
of its sword in the political government of the world is as




1 2                   BOUNDARIES.
great as of its genius and philosophy in the regions of literature and science.
Both as friend and foe that great country has proved
itself worthy of our respect. None ever fought more bravely
against us, as many a bright and some melancholy names in
our annals can witness, and none ever stood shoulder to
shoulder, or advanced foot to foot more gallantly or more
truly, as Alma, the trenches of Sebastopol, and the great
clay of Inkermann have written in the heart of England.
Therefore, with the feelings of brotherhood and kindness
cemented by such ties, or at all events with the manly respect due to a brave and chivalrous race with whom our
relations may no longer be those of political union or mutual
aid, let us see what steps were necessary before the present
France attained her proud position.
The first element in the greatness of a nation is its possession of strong and well-defined boundaries. We will say
nothing of our own, for no barrier has yet been found equal
to the sea. France wants but little to put her within limits
which would make her almost as impregnable as if she were
ringed all round by
"The beached verge of the salt flood,
Which twice a-day with its embossed froth
The turbulent surge doth cover."
If you look at any map of Europe you will see how comfortably France would repose with her south guarded by the
Mediterranean and the Pyrenees; her west by the Atlantic;
her north by the British Channel; and her east by the Alps,
the Swiss mountains, and the strong current of the Rhine.
If this were' her position, her people would possess their land
in peace; for no enemy could reach them behind those unassailable ramparts.  This was the circumference of Gallia or
Gaul, and if Nature had her way, would be also the circumference of France. But geography books tell us that in this
instance Nature has not been allowed to have her way. A
line is arbitrarily drawn across from a certain part of the




ELEMENTS OF STRENGTH.                13
Rhine, and confines France within boundaries on the east
and north, which it is evident to every Frenchman are not
the proper limits of his country. He looks on the Rhenish
Prussians, the Belgians, and the Dutch, as Irish landowners
used to look on the squatters on their estates;, and has the
same kindly feelings towards the public law of Europe, which
guarantees those portions of territory to their present occupiers, as the same Irish landowner entertained towards the
common law of England which gave the said squatters a
right to their lands by the length of their possession. But
even with this drawback to the perfect defencibility of the
French territory, and this slice off the original domain, its
situation is the best in continental Europe. It is a rich,
compact, thickly-peopled land, nearly square, with every
variety of soil and climate, from the cold of the northern
channel at Calais, where the winters are as severe as ours, to
the sunny south at Avignon and Marseilles, where tropical
plants are reared. It has great alluvial plains where agriculture may yet be carried to its fullest development. It has
hills where the grape flourishes in rich luxuriance, and fills
the vats of Burgundy and Champagne. It has mountains
where a hardy population rears innumerable herds of oxen
and sheep.  Its harbours are numerous and commodious.
It has easy access to the three chief seas of Europe. It contains upwards of two hundred thousand square miles, being
more than twice the size of Great Britain, and is occupied
by a strong, healthy, and energetic population, amounting
to thirty-four millions of souls. It has many more elements
of strength. Its populations have all got amalgamated in
the course of time in one mixed and congenial people-not
divided into races hating each other like the Czetches and
Magyars of Hungary, or the Wallachians and Turks.  Then
they speak one language-not a number of distinct and unconnected dialects, where the tongue of the conquered still
survives and stands up hostilely against the conqueror's, as
the Polish against the Russian, and, till lately, the Welsh
and Gaelic against the English. Language is the greatest




14                    THE  GAELS.
element of combination in the formation of states.  It seems
as if the necessity of articulating the same words produced
the same class of ideas, and the same turn of thought.
Patriotism goes from end to end of England, because the
man of Cornwall and the man of Cumberland equally, with
mere varieties of accent, speak the English tongue. They
read the same books; they pray in the same words; and
when they meet together in the business of the world, the
bond of Englishman is equally upon them both.  The French,
in spite of a greater diversity of provincial speech, have the
same advantage.  Their authors, statesmen, warriors, belong to them  all; and on the Seine and on the lRhone the
feelings and expressions, the hopes and recollections, bear the
same national impress. It is possible that, in this sense, the
possession of Belgium and Hollandl, and the rich dependencies of Aix-la-Chapelle and Cologne, might not be an increase to the power of France.  The law would have clifficulty in joining together what language, tradition, and, as
regards the Dutch, religion had put asunder. And where
law is not effectual, the application of force is a source of
weakness to all parties concerned.
But though we have thus begun with a geographical view
of what France is or might be, we are not to forget that a
nation does not consist of the Land, but of the People. The
square piece of territory which we now call France, was at
one time not France at all. Its earliest recognition by History is as Gallia, the land of the Celts or Gael.  These were a
tribe or race originally springing from  the farthest East.
Wilc, brave, and impetuous, loving war for the sake of glory
and conquest, almost irresistible in attack, but greatly dispirited if their first dash was unsuccessful; boastful in speech
and variable in disposition, they bear an unmistakable resemblance to their lively and gallant successors on the soil of
France.  WVhat became of them in the long series of years
after their first settlement was effected, nobody can say. We
can only discover in the darkness of savage life, that the
original possessors of the landc  whoever they may have been,




CAESAR.                     15
were driven before the new-comers, and found refuge in the
extreme West; that, after intervals more or less prolonged,
the colonisers were joined in their first acquisition by tribes
of cognate descent from the North; and that, on one or two
occasions, they burst across the boundaries of their still unconsolidated dominion, and carried terror and devastation to
the walls of Rome and the fertile lands of Greece. Rome,
fighting with her neighbours, and crushed by the barbarian
numbers, was not able to expel them entirely from the lands
of Italy. At the foot of the Alps, therefore, in the rich
level plains beyond the Po, the retreating squadrons took up
their abode.  Wives and children, and all the cattle they
had seized on their southern march, constituted the contented
warriors into a nation, and their territory was recognised by
the Roman authors as Cisalpine Gaul, or Gaul on this side
the Alps. The dwellers, in the mean time, on the other
side, pursued their course. The growth of the population
required some exertion in clearing the ground.  The rivers
were traversed in coracles in search of fish. They hunted
for wild game on the hills, and led their cattle where the
pastures were greenest. There were vast assemblages for the
decision of public questions, and for the ceremonies of religion. Long-bearded Druids guided the simple peasantry
by the hopes and terrors of a dreadful faith-denounced
curses on any one who might be disobedient to their commands, and sacrificed human victims to appease the angry
gods.'Meanwhile Rome was waxing great, and stretched
her boundaries on every side. Gallia Cisalpina, or Cisalpine
Gaul, became a subject state. All the level tract along the
Mbediterranean Sea and up to the Garonne was reduced to a
Roman province; and finally, when the fulness of time was
come, Julius Caesar-greatest of soldiers and wisest of politicians-crossed the boundary, and carried his conquering
eagles throughout the land.  We need not follow minutely
the course of his battles and campaigns, much less shall we
waste any virtuous indignation on the destruction of Gallic
feedom and the ambition of the Roman chief. The freedom




16.               ROMAN CONQUEST.
of a barbarian is only an independence of general law, and an
ignorant impatience of the restraints of subordination. When
a wandering population, combined only for the purposes of
plunder and destruction, forces its way into the peaceful domains of a people in a more advanced stage of civilisation,
the historian is justified in being as eloquent as he can, in
denunciation of the invasion. But when, as in the case of
Caesar, the conquest achieved by the sword was accompanied
by the arts of life and all the advantages of settled government and intelligible laws, we have too much sense to lament
the fate of a crowd of miserable tribes, whose defeats bring
them  such benefits, and whose submission to the mightier
power removes their contests from the slaughter of their battle-fields and the treacherous murders of their feasts, to the
impartial decision of a Roman Emperor-bad and cruel, it is
possible, in his individual capacity, but following certain laws
in his formal judgments, and guided by the precedents
and principles of four hundred years of liberty and power.
A/duans, Nervians, Allobroges, and Veromandians, were
compelled to accept the securities of citizenship-not the loss
of liberty-at the point of the sword; and before many years
elapsed, the inhabitants of the whole of Gaul looked back
without regret to the stormy period of their savage independence, and almost forgot the sound of their original Gaelic
in their devotion to the language of Cicero and Virgil. Many
Gallican towns had colleges of their own, which rivalled the
schools of Athens and Alexandria.  Patricians sent their
sons to finish their education in Marseilles; and gradually
the tide of eloquence and learning went on, till the grandsons of harsh-named warriors, who had worn the plaid and
trunk-hose, the long hair and wooden shoes of their country,
were dressed in the Roman toga, and wore the robes of senator or prretor. It became a point of honour to follow Roman
customs, and even to take Roman names. One gentleman,
of the unduphonious name of Vercundaridub, whose fathers
had evidently been drummers to the tribe, changed it into
the easier sounded Caius Julius, and became a priest in the




DRUIDISM.                      17
Temple of Augustus.  It was, indeed, impossible for a people
who had mastered the Roman tongue, and tasted the pleasures of literature and science, to continue their belief in the
religious tenets which had satisfied them  in their original
state.  That religion had been adapted for the deep woods
and shady hill-sides of its native seats, and had not become
softened by its migration to the West.  It still breathed its
ancient harshness in its mysterious rites and bloody practices.
But when Roman agriculture irrigated the fields, and cut
clown the forests, and deepened the rivers, it was found that
the time of Thoth and Tanaris had long gone by. A faith
that derived its sanctity from the darkness of the primeval
woods, died out when the woods were thinned, and the sunshine admitted to their depths.  It did not require an order
from the Emperor, or missionaries from the heathen temples,
or any attempts at proselytism by the governing power, to
overthrow the old belief.  The Romans, for the first hundred
years of their dominion, made no effort to silence the teaching of the Druids, but merely interdicted the cruelties which
those sacred fanatics-those earlier Brahmins-consecrated
with the name of devotion. Human sacrifices, ancl pretensions to supernatural prescience, were prohibited by the law;
but the conquering people achieved their object without offending the feelings of the conquered.  They neither blindly
oppressed the religion of the natives, nor meanly concealecl
their own. On every altar burned a flame to Jupiter or
Minerva; their daily duties commenced with prayer and
sacrifice for the safety of the Emperor and the State; their
language was used as the means of communication of all
their benefits, and the decisions of their courts. The trem.bling native saw something sacred in a tongue which could
extend its orders over half the world; which uttered the
praises of the immortal gods and the sentences upon Asiatic
kings; and all the varying clans and kindreds were converted to the Roman faith, by respect for the Roman name,
and gratitude for the blessings of Roman rule.
Those blessings, however, were soon minglel with many
2




18              LUXURY AND DISTRESS.
disadvantages.  The towns increased in size and number
beyond the requirements of the land. Whole tracts of territory were deserted, while thousands crowded into the seats
of wealth and luxury. Autun, under the courtly name of
Angustodununm, contained a hundred thousand inhabitants.
Science and the arts attracted immense numbers to Arles,
and Lyons, and Vienne. WVlithin the walls, rich  Lomanised
nobles occupied their palaces, and left their rents to be collected from  the diminished and overburdened peasantry.
The arena at Nismes disputed the palm for size and grandeur
with the Coliseum itself. The nation had, in fact, fallen into
the greatest misfortune which can befall a state; the ranks
were separate and hostile. The old patriarchal system had
lost its charm. The man who had been chief of the family,
became master of the land; and the man who had been tenant or clansman, became a slave. There was no class between.
The graceful gods of Parnassus had expelled the grim divinities of the original mythology, and for a time had satisfied
the longings of the Gael, for they were the embodiments of
irresistible power in heaven, as the Emperors were upon
earth. While the supreme State was prosperous, and the
inhabitant of Gaul was safe fiom foreign aggression under
the shelter of the Roman name, and from intestine trouble
by the presence of fifty thousand soldiers, all went well.
Jupiter and the rest were worshipped in their stately fanes,
and the citizens of: Amiens and Troyes were proud of the
magnificence of the building, and the number of victims slain.
But when sorrow and commotion were in the land, when the
oppressions of their native lords were multiplied a hundredfold by the tyrannous exactions of the central government;
when the treasury at Rome was empty and had to be filled
firom the half-stored granaries of the serfs of Gaul, something more was needed than games in honour of Apollo, and
hymns in the purest Latinity to Venus and the Graces. The
ground was now prepared; the noblest of languages was universal in the land; the human heart was bowed down with
distress; the groans of the prisoners arose from the dungeon;




CIHRISTIANITY.                   19
and there was no hand to save.  It was at this time that the
people that sat in darkness saw a great light.  The tidings
of the gospel reached them in the midst of their despair, and
from henceforth they had a refuge against the woes of life.
Delightful stories are told of the earliest preachers of the
A~ord; and we forgive the fond credulity which invests them
with miraculous power, and traces them at two removes to
the very foot of the Cross. It was in the year 160, we are
told, that a certain Pothinus and St. Ireneus landed from
Asia Minor at Marseilles, and established the first congregation, and built the first church, in Lyons, the capital of Gaul.
Irenxus had been the disciple of Polycarp, who himself had
imbibed wisdom from the lips of St. John.  Seed so planted
was sure to flourish in the end; and, passing over some centuries of the alternate persecution and triumph of the new
faith, we come at the same moment to the universal Christianity, and the total ruin and personal misery of the people.
More helpless than the Romans themselves, more overwhelmed
with luxury among the nobles, and starvation among the
mass, the two extremes of life were brought face to face in
the light of day.  Bursting from the plains and forests of
Germany in the year 481, the Franks, repulsed in former
trials by the legions of Rome, dashed across the Rhine without opposition, and took possession of the land.  There was
no fighting or parleying, or flights or treaties.  The used-up
population, the effeminate noble, the enfeebled serf, the
trembling townsman and scattered labourer, could neither
fight nor fly.  Hope had died out among them; fbr Rome,
to which they used to turn in all their distresses, was now
the author of all their woes.  Tyrannical Emperors had
squeezed the last farthing of their coin, the last bushel of
their meal, in the name of tax.  What worse could the wild
soldier of Chlodoveg, with his sharp sword and hungry followers, be than the Curial, or tax-gatherer, who sold them
into slavery if they were deficient in the payment, and the
noble who flogged them if they failed in their servile work?
So, welcome a fresh invader!  A change of sorrows will be




20                     SOCIETY.
almost a relief. But Chlodoveg had other claims to their
submission. In the year 453, at the great battle of Chalons,
where the devastating HIuns under Attila were defeated, and
scattered by a combination of all the tribes and languages
which were still in the service of Rome, the Franks under
their leader Meroveg, and the Goths under their own chief,
had been of essential service. Often repulsed by the authorities of Gaul when they had tried to seize the country, and
driven over the Rhine, they were now received as deliverers;
and Franks and Goths contended for the gratitude and
favour of the rescued population. But the Goths, who had
learned some lessons of government by their intercourse with
the polished rulers of Constantinople, had imbibed also some
of the false doctrine at that time prevalent in the Eastern
Church:  They were Arians in faith, and the clergy of Gaul
were uneasy at their obligation to such heretical intruders.
To Chlodoveg, therefore, the grandson of the warrior Meroveg, they turned, because, as he was still an unconverted
heathen, he would be less hostile than their rival sect. Welcomed accordingly by all-by bishop, and lord, and citizen,
and slave-the savage king came on. The Goths fled before
this new defender of the faith, and set up their power in
Spain and Italy; the Burgundians paid him tribute-nobody
could offer any resistance to his exactions, and he found himself at the head of a successful band, located in far better
quarters than their late settlements had supplied, and supported by all the influence of the now rich and powerful
church.
It is a strange mixing up of almost opposite conditions
which now meets our view. The old Roman intelligence, its
elegance of manner and purity of taste, had never died out.
The educated gentleman of Gaul wrote as good Latin verses
almost as the authors of the age of Augustus. Noblemen of
old descent, who traced up to the Consuls of the ancient
~time, and were near relations of the reigning Emperors of the
East, accepted bishoprics and other church dignities, without
altogether ceasing to look with benignant eyes on the inhab



FRANKS.                       2 1
itants of the mythological Olympus; the Romanised cities
were still entire, and even to us it gives a strange feeling of
the uninterrupted flow of history when we come, in the incidents of the sixth century, upon names which are still in
everyday  times-Toulouse, Bordeaux, Paris, or Cologne.
Their walls, and theatres, and temples, were yet erect; but,
better than those inanimate records of their former greatness,
their municipal privileges remained; their self-government
and elective magistracy were not interfered with; their ecclesiastical rulers were also appointed by the votes of priests
and people; and along their streets passed busy crowds hurrying to hear their favourite preacher, or, perhaps-for Paganism lived in the amusements of the people long after their
religion was changed-to some flower-crowned celebration
which had descended from the worship of Venus or Ponmona.
Luxury in dress and festival kept up its ancient reign; and
a Roman of the last days of the Republic, if suddenly transplanted into the drawing-room of Avitus, the prelate of Vienne, or Sidonius &ppollinaris of Clermont, would have heard
as learned conversation, in as grammatical phrases, as in his
own villa five hundred years before.
Outside of this cultivated society —ruling it, guarding it,
and scarcely comprehending either its feelings or its language
— was the conquering, wondering, and admiring Frank.  The
cognate tribes who had settled in the south and east were
impressed with a still profounder awe of the wonders of that
antiquated civilisation they had been commissioned to destroy. They were subdued by the old Roman majesty which
shone before them in the architectural grandeur of their captured towns, and gazed with reverence on aqueducts and
bridges, which combinecl so much gracefulness with so much
strength.  But the Frank in the north of the land, proud of
his personal prowess —devoted to the wild faiths of the northern pantheon, where Odin sounded the note of battle and called
his followers to the joys of a sensual paradise-closed his ears
and heart to the teaching of' Christianity. Even when Chlodoveg-or let us henceforth call him  Clovis-conformed to




622                RELIGIOUS ZEAL.
the faith and underwent the ceremony of baptism, the pagan
reigned supreme in all his thoughts. His feasts were attended
by nobles who would have looked on him with disdain if they
had believed in his attachment to a faith which forced him
to forgive, to pity, to repent.  His court at the same time,
at Soissons-if court you can call a grand old Roman palace
converted to the uses of a barbaric chieftain, who retained the
manners and habits of the tent in his native wilderness  was
attended by priests and poets who explained the doctrines of
the gospel, and led a purer life than the savage warriors at
their side.  The perplexed and politic king did not know
what to do to reconcile the jarring interests by which he was
surrounded; and at last (perhaps by way of a compromise)
gratified his bishops by incursions on the lands of their heretical opponents, the Arians, on the Loire and the Saone; and
satisfied his warriors at the same time by placing no restraint
on their cruelties and oppression. No follower of Thor or
Odin was ever more false and pitiless than the newly
christened king. No missionary was ever more zealous in
the extermination of unbelievers than the pagan warriors of
the Frank.  Gradually this dreadful race, uniting the ferocity
of savage courage with the fanaticism  of religious enmity,
extendecl its power. Clovis was never without a reason for a
fresh assault on his neighbour.'" It is a shame," he said, as
he looked on the rich fields across the Garonne, " that such
territories should belong to villains who have a different
creed from ours. Onward! let us take possession of their
land."  The same eloquence was exerted on the east as well
as the south of his dominions, and the result was, that in a
few years hle was  acknowledged king and conqueror from the
Channel to the ]Mediterranean.  He is the founder of the
first royal race of France, which, however, does not talke his
name, but is known from his grandsire gMeroveg as the'" Merovingian Line."
Here is a state of society which never existed before. In
the destruction of the other great monarchies of the world,
the conquering people were of an equal organisation with the




DEATH OF CLOVIS.                  23
subdued. In the case of the Persian monarchy, indeed, the
circumstances were reversed.  The arts and sciences were in
the tents of Alexander; and on the fall of that wondrous
Macedonian empire, where the eloquence and learning of
Greece had penetrated farther than its arms, and exercised,an influence on the thoughts and feelings of the myriads of
Central India, the invaders were not barbarians from the hills,
or tribes from hitherto undreamed-of lands, but Roman legions cognisant of law, and proud of their obedience to constituted authority. But when the Roman Empire was in
turn to be subdued, the new intruders were summoned from
the woods of Germany and the long steppes of Scythia, —ignorant of the language, the arts or manners of the millions
among whom they came-devastating the fields, overthrowing
the tempies, —murdering the helpless.  Nothing was left but
the prospect of a complete renewal of savagery, and the desolation of all the lands, when gradually it was found that the
divine light of Christian faith was penetrating those darkened minds. Goths, Alans, Burgundians, and other immigrants, lent patient ears to the new revelation; and by the
time Clovis completed his subjugation of all the Gauls, the
Franks themselves, however barbaric in reality, were professedly a nation of Christians.  And this is a vast step in advance, whether the profession be false or true, for it gives a
starting point for future improvement; it contains an acknowledgment of certain laws, and furnishes a standard by
which all actions -nay be measured.  Clovis, barbarian,
warrior, conqueror, Christian, and king, died in 511, at the
age of forty-five.  To show how powerful the old name of the
vanished empire still was, it will amuse you to hear that this
irresistible potentalte was thought to have reached the pinnacle of his greatness when the powerless Anastasius of Constantinople bestowed on him the fasces and mantle of a Romran
consul. A tyrant speaking Greek on the Bosphorus sent the
insignia of Cicero and Scipio to a despot speaking Teutonic
upon the Seine.
We need not occupy your time or fatigue your memory




FREDEGONDE AND BRUNEHILD.
with the acts and names of the successors of ~this great
adventurei. His four sons spread ruin and misery over the
land by their crimes and quarrels.  Brought under one
man's power again by the superior skill or wickedness of
Clothaire, it was only to go through the same process of dissolution by partition between his children. Again there was
a King of Paris, and a King of Orleans and Burgundy, a
King of Austrasia, and a King of Soissons. All the passions
of barbarism, and all the vices of a more polished state of
society, were allowed full play among those fratricidal chiefs.
But, crueller than all the barbarians, more false than all the
statesmen, the crown of bloodthirstiness and deceit fell upon
two women. The names of Fredegonde and Brunehild are
still whispered with awe as incarnations of the evil principle.
Both ambitious, relentless, mercenary, and beautiful, their
rivalry plunged the whole land in blood. Fredegonde, relying
on her treasures and powers of fascination, bribed or smiled
her attendant warriors into the wildest crimes. She paved
her way to the throne of Soissons by the murder of her predecessor the sister of Brunehild, and vowed implacable hatred
to the family of the hostile queen. One day at this time,
Gregory of Tours, the historian of that wretched period,
was walking near the palace of Soissons with Sylvius the
Bishop of Albi.  " Do you see anything on that roof?" said
Sylvius.  "CI see the standard which Hilperic the King has
set up," replied the monk. " And you see nothing else?"
inquired the Bishop.  "No; do you see anything?"  "CI see
the sword of divine vengeance hung over that wicked house."
And so must many others, with eyes as clear as the Bishop
of Albi's. WVhen human endurance is at an end, the sentence
of offended Heaven is close at hand. The curse of outraged
humanity fell upon the royal line. Brother against brother,
uncle against nephew, and when age came on, the white
locks of the still vengeful Brunehild against the faded charms
of the relentless Fredegonde.  These were the spectacles presented to the eyes of the offended nations.  Powerless kings
dominated by the loftier spirit of their wives; their sons so




MAYORS OF THE PALACE.                25
subdued by the energy of those detested mothers, that they'
never obtained independence when they were placed upon
the throne; even the grandchildren held in a timid subjection
which unfitted them for the struggles of war or policy; it is
no wonder the Franks held more resolutely than ever to
the Salic law, by which females were excluded from the succession. At the same time they provided themselves with a
compensation for the unworthiness of their lineal rulers by
the election of an officer, who at this time made his first
appearance in history, but who played a wonderful part in
the succeeding events.  This was a Mayor of the Palace;
a noble chosen by the nobles to be the guide and controller
of the sovereign,-the leader of the armies in war, and President of the Council in peace. The humility of the name for
a long time hid the real nature of the appointment; and
long after Fredegonde had died amid the execrations of the
country, and Brunehild had excited a momentary feeling of
compassion by the sight of her dying struggles at the age of
eighty, lashed hand and foot to an untamed horse, the kingly
title indeed remained to their descendants, but the power had
passed into other hands. The tendency of a warrior tribe
which owes its settlement to the swrord, is towards monarchythe concentration of authority into one hand secures the unity
of action which is essential to success in war. But when the
strong bond of mutual danger is removed, the pride of enriched
nobles and powerful possessors of land revolts against the
supremacy of one of their own order. Aristocracy is the next
step in the progress of a nation, and Gaul (as it was still
called), or the nation of the Franks, reached this period when
the frightful tragedy of the sons and grandsons of Clovis came
to a close. Lords of vast domains, and hereditary leaders o'
numerous vassals, the counts and marquises looked on the
puppet who professed to wear the crown as their inferior in
everything but name. His commands were disobeyed, his
domains infringed upon to such a degree as sometimes to be
insufficient for his support. On great occasions, when a royal
procession took plaee, the lowly appearance of the legitimate




26                DO-NOTHING KINGS.
king must have formed a humiliating contrast with the pomp
and dignity of the nobles who rode by his side. Sitting
alone, sad and silent, the descendant of Clovis was paraded
from the palace to the church in a waggon drawn by bullocks,
the mark of the remote and primitive simplicity of his ancestral line, but unappreciated unless in its ludicrous or degrading aspect, by the rough and ambitious warriors who
reverenced nothing which they did not fear. One great opportunity was offered for the restoration of the kingly office,
by the incursion of the Saracen armies in 730.  On this
occasion all Europe was on the gaze. Crowding all the plains
of France, holding already the rich realms of Spain, the
African shores of the Mediterranean, the illimitable levels of
Asia, and the gorgeous cities on the Tigris, the MIohanmmedans were in the very act of establishing their power over the
distracted populations of the west. But the gallantry of the
Franks came to the rescue. If there had sat upon the throne
a man like Clovis, the greatness of the peril would have
restored to him all the advantages of his position. The king,
however, was an idle and dissolute youth, trembling at a
word from  priest or necromancer, and retaining of all the
royal attributes of his ancestors only the long hair and loose
raiment which marked the kingly line.  But at his side was
found a man as brave as Clovis, and wiser than that barbarian
chief. Karl Martel, or Charles the Hammer,-an unmistakable Frank in name and epithet-General of the army,
and wielding all the powers of the state as Mayor of the
Palace, dashed down to Orleans at the head of the collected
hosts of Germany and Gaul, and with one fatal shock scattered the light battalions of the Moslem, so that they never
combined again. Europe was Christianised by the victory,
and the crown transferred to the proper wearer. Loudest in
expressing the thanks of Christendom for this great deliverance, was the chief bishop of the Christian Church.  No
eminence was too high for the champion of the faith, and
though Charles Martel was satisfied with the title of Dule,.and the reality of sovereign power, the pontiff insisted upon




PEPIN CROWNED, A. D. 751.             27
showing his appreciation of the services of the father by his
benevolence to the son. This son was Pepin, successor to
Karl's name and authority, wielding the sword with as much
power, and ruling the land with as much wisdom; and when,
in the year 751, the old dynasty actually died out from the
public mind, and the poor representatives of the heroic
founders of the monarchy exchanged the premature debaucheries of their youth for the living sepulture of a convent,
the grateful and politic Pope Zacharias found that the time
was come. He said, "It is right that the kingly title should
rest where the kingly power now is."  He crowned Pepin
King of the Franks, and thus consecrated the second or Carlovingian race.  But King Pepin was not to be outdone in
generosity by a priest, and proclaimed the successors of St.
Peter sovereign pontiffs and lords of the city and territories
of Rome. By this arrangement, two shadowy impostures
were abolished, and two strong realities substituted in their
stead.  The Western Church was freed from its nominal
vassalage and subserviency to the Eastern Casar; and the
true KTing of the Franks, the man who " could rule and dared
not lie," delivered from the apparent superiority of a phantom
chief, from whom all life had long passed away. Visits and
benefits after this were interchanged between the Frankish
monarch and the Roman Pope.  Twice Pepin hurried into
Italy to the support of the tottering chair.  Stephen in
return crossed the mountains, and anointed with holy oil
not only the king himself, but his two sons Charles and
Carlamnan.
To be a crowned king in those days, was to have the sanctity of Religion added to the reality of earthly power. After
that ennobling ceremony the office of king became invested
with loftier attributes than merely the reverence of men. It
was considered sonmething divine and sacred; resistance to its
authority grew to be not only rebellion, but sacrilege; and
henceforth, however nearly a great noble might approach the
monarch in power, he was immeasurably inferior to him in
dignity and rank. Pepin died in 768, and the greatest monl



28                   THE CHURCH.                rA. 6D. 78.
arch the world had seen since the Roman Empire began tc
decay, inaugurated a new state of society, and different modes
of thought.  Charles the Great, contracted by French pronunciation into Charlemagne, is the last of barbaric kings,
and the first of feudal monarchs. Ancient history disappears
at the death of Pepin, -and what is called Mediveval life begins.
There was, however, one institution, which formed a stronger
connecting link between the two states of society than the
personal predominance of the king. This was the Church,
which, in all those earlier years, had acted as mediator between the oppressor and the oppressed, and endeavoured to
calm the ferocity of the Frank, and revive the confidence of
the Gallo-Roman, by declaring the great and elevating doctrines of the faith.  It had also supported its claim  to authority by many signs and wonders above the powers of men.
It will not be necessary to inquire too curiously into the miracles by which the simple spectators were impressed. If a
saintly visitor astonished a king by throwing down a vase of
matchless beauty, the spoil of some assault on one of the
great cities of the Roman period, breaking it into pieces, and
then by two or three words of prayer, restoring it in all its
pristine integrity, we are to bear in mind, at the same time,
the humanising advice by which this incident was accompanied. If fire burst regularly forth, kindled by invisible hands
on spires and church roofs, wherever the march of the barbaric chief was directed, we are to remember that the priests
of those illuminated fanes preached mercy and compassion in
ears which were yet strangers to the sound. All through the
stormy years of the first or Merovingian life (from 481 to
751), the monasteries, which had been richly endowed by the
later Emperors of the WVest, maintained a kind of sacred
neutrality in the struggle of the contending nations.  Strongly
fortified, and generally of immense size, presided over by an
abbot chosen for his talents or influence, they acted as garrisons, to which all the learning of the time fled for refuge.
The monks, at a very early date, began to copy the books o0
the great authors of the Augustan and succeeding ages. All




A. D. 768.]     GALLO-ROMAN PRIESTS.                29
the inventions and sciences of past periods were here preserved, and strong-armed kings stood rebuked and awestruck in
presence of those powerless but omniscient ecclesiastics.
The parts played by the respective nations, the Frank and
Gallo-Roman, were at last by these means almost reversed.
The conqueror obeyed, the vanquished issued his commands. For it has been: observed, by a modern inquirer who
went carefully over the names of priests and soldiers, recorded
in the annals of two or three hundred years after Clovis, that
the preponderating majority of Romans were in the service of
church and abbey, and of the Franks in the army. The warrior was either too modest or too proud to pore over books,
and acquire the almost miraculous power of writing with a
pen. Gallo-Romans were chiefs of abbeys, lords of church
lands, preachers in crowded cities, confessors of repentant
lords, guides of devout princesses. It needs little observation
to perceive that the unhappy Frank, buckled up in his armour of proof, was getting ten times more subdued than his
Gallo-Roman subject; and we accordingly perceive, that before the accession of Pepin, the kings, the counts, the dukes,
had all nearly stript themselves of their houses and lands.
Death-bed terrors, love, expiation, contempt for earth, and
zeal for heaven, all the passions and energies of the human
mind, were enlisted in favour of the church. Cupidity won
over new supporters whom the mere truths of Christianity
had failed to move, and, long before the time of Charlemagne,
we observe a strong mixture of Frankish names among the
dignitaries of so secure and wealthy an establishment.
Here, then, we see the universal course of human affairs
exemplified in the history of Gaul. First the sword; then
the intellect. No nation is secure and happy without the
combination of the two. Without the first, the second becomes degraded into cunning and cruelty, as among the
Greeks of the Lower Empire, or the Hindoos of our own time;
without the last, the sword becomes an instrument of tyranny
and oppression, as in the ferocious onslaught of- the Huns, or
the desolating fanaticism of the MIohammedans.  Happiest




30                    CHARLEMAGNE.                 [A. D. 768.
state of all, where a people, strong in courage and clear in intellect, possesses the wisdom to devise a constitution in which
all are subject, yet all are free; and a sword never drawn in
an unjust quarrel, nor idle in a just one; which protects and
guards the blessings which the intellect has won.
"A land of settled government,
A land of just and old renown,
Where freedom broadens slowly down
From precedent to precedent;
Where faction seldom gathers head,
But by degrees to fulness wrought,
The strength of some diffusive thought,
Hath time and space to work and spread."
Charlemagne is the greatest name in European history,
with the exception, perhaps, of Alexander the Great and
Caesar. A more modern name has been added as recalling in
a closer manner the wonders of his career, and commanding
the same populations.  Napoleon has the farther resemblance
that he governed the same soil as a portion of his dominion,
and is claimed by the vanity of the French as their countryman, though an Italian by blood and name, in the same way
as the grandson of Karl, who spoke no word of their language
and never resided in any part of their country, is claimed as
one of their compatriots.   The Britons, by this rule, might
have claimed kin with the Roman Antonines, because they
were subject to their power.  From his great castle at Aix-laChapelle, the Frankish ruler looked over all the lands, and
watched the motions of the most distant tribes.  Perpetually
listening for the slightest sound of opposition, he started off
without a moment's delay, and carried surprise and destruction among the Saxon heathen, or the rebellious Lombards, or
the MIUssulmans of Spain.  A  new  system  of government
was instituted, by which the various peoples were constituted
separate and almost independent states, with the one bond
between them of the great Sovereign who stretched his authority over all alike. Each territory was governed by its native
chiefs, appointed to certain duties, and invested with a por



A. D. 800.] CROWNED EMPEROR OF THE WEST.            31
tion of the kingly power. There were dukes, and counts, and
commissioners of the crown, who ruled, and raised troops, and
collected taxes in the two Burgundys, and Navarre, and
Germany, and Italy,-but their authority was limited to the
districts to which they were sent. A duke in Milan had no
power in Vienna; the chief governor in Paris had no influence in Bavaria, any more than a lord-lieutenant of Ireland
has any authority in Bengal. The councils also of this great
statesman were composed of national advisers. He went with
very few attendants from one of his subject provinces to the
other, and consulted on their local interests with the wisest
of their respective populations.  Wherever he extended his
sceptre, he sent the crozier and the cross along with it. All
the recesses of heathenism were penetrated by his missionaries
first, and then by his armies. The vanquished were condemned to submit to just laws and to be baptised-a severe
punishment, as it appeared at first to' the ferocious Saxon,
who sometimes refused to accept his life -on these conditions,
but in the end working great things for Europe and mankind.
From all quarters the eyes equally of friend and foe were directed to the seat of such wisdom combined with such power.
It seemed to those who could read, or who knew only the traditions of the old Imperial time, that the days of Augustus
and Trajan, and the Antonines, were returned.  B rimful
with gratitude for past protection, the Pope of Rome was
ready to give outward form to this universal thought. On the
eve of Christmas, in the year 800, he placed on the head of
Charlemagne the crown of Italy, and hailed him Emperor of
the Wiest. Immediately fresh dignity was believed to rest on
the person of the Frank. Something of the old reverence
which had made the worship of the Emperor the great bond
of unity among the different religions and territories of the
Roman world, would still linger about the very name. To be
Emperor of the West was to be the greatest, and almost the
holiest, of mortal men. The Pope himself could only bless
the wearer of that mysterious crown, and was the creature of
his breath, the hearer of his commands, and owing dignity




32                  THE NORSEMEN.               LA. D. 814.
and office to his grace and favour.  Charlemagne, Emperor
of the NVest, could nominate kings and pontiffs at his pleasure.  All the little potentates of the time thought it an honour to be admitted to his presence, or even to wait in his antechamber. Laws and ordinances were issued for the regulation equally of Church and State.  Great public works were
undertaken to improve the internal communication of his
dominions. Learning was encouraged, not merely by largesses
to scholars, but by the example of the sovereign himself.
He was surrounded in his hours. of retirement by a select band
of poets, historians, and philosophers front all countries: Alcuin, from England, was the chief; and here, in easy conversation, in essays on Virgil or Horace, and the lighter amusemefits of wit and repartee, let us hope that the great man forgot that he was great.: After three-and-thirty years of battle with the Saxons, after fifty-four military expeditions, all
crowned with success; after overthrowing the Lombards in
Italy and the Saracens in BarcelQna, he saw one day, when
he was residing in Southern Gaul, a small fleet of vessels
manceuvring off a harbour on the Mediterranean.:.A common
enough sight, you will say, for the Mediterranean at that time
was the highway for all the traffic in the world; but Charlemagne burst into tears.  " These are not merchants," be
said, " from  Africa, or adventurers from Britain: these are
the Norsemen-not that I fear such enemies can do any
harm to me, but I weep for the calamities I perceive they
will bringr upon my realms." And shortly after this, in 814, he
died.
Forty-six years of so vigorous and beneficent a reign had
accustomed all Europe to the supremacy of a master mind.
When the master mind was withdrawn, the feeling of obedience still remained.  But it could not long stand the shock
to which it was now exposed by the weakness and wickedness of the royal line.  Louis, his son, had the imperial
name, and all the kingdoms, states, and principalities, except
the kingdom of Italy, which was left to his nephew for his
share. - Never was a man in such a false position as Louis,




A. D. 841.]       ElMPIRE DIVIDED.                  33
the meek and lowly. Excellently qualified for a monk, or
even for a ruler in happier times, he did all that gentleness
and superstition could do to render the name either of king
or emperor contemptible in the eyes of his men-at-arms. He
made conscience, forsooth, of restoring to the church the
lands and houses torn from it by those grasping barons. He
would not benefit by the rapine of his friends, or even by
what he thought the unjust conquests of his father.  What
was a rough soldier, whose wealth arose from plundered enemies, to think of such a leader as this?  He complained
also of the bishops and other dignitaries of the church, that
they had departed from the simplicity of apostolic life, and
contended more for superiority in rank and riches, than for
the conversion of souls. What could an ambitious and energetic hierarchy think of a crowned friar who taugh't them
their Christian duties, and showed them an example in his
own person of all the Christian virtues? Too scrupulous
for the soldiers, too religious for the priest, Louis the Debonnaire (a  word that means the weakly pliant) was deserted by
both parties.  He was dethroned by his more warlike sons,
and degraded by his offended clergy.  Twice immured in a,
cloister, he was twice brought out to stop the mortal enmities
of his children.  To each of his three sons he had allotted a.
portion of his vast domains during his lifetime; and when,
he died, after a sad and troubled reign, in 840, the separation of the component portions of the empire became cor —
plete. The great name of emperor fell to Lothaire, his eldest
son, who instantly asserted its rights over the kingdoms of'
his brother Charles the Bald, and Louis the German.  But,
they reselved to defend their independence, and took arms
awgainst his claims. In this quarrel all the nationalities took.
part; and in 841 there gathered to the banks of a little
streamlet at Fontenay, near Auxerre, in Burgundy, the,
forces of all the empire of Charlemagne, only now they were
in separate camps.  On one side of the river stood Lothaire
with the men of Italy, and Helvetia, and Provence, who,.
though conquered by Charlemagne, and ruled over by his3




34            BATTLE OF THE BROTHERS.         [A. D. 843.
son, were recalled by the sound of their language, in which
no German words were intermixed, to the memory of a time
when they were the masters of the world, and gave laws botlh
to Germany and Gaul. On the other there stood with
Charles of Neustria (the north-west of France, including
Paris) the men of the conquest-Franks in descent and
name-but by this time so intermingled with the subject
population that they had all the feelings of Gallo-Romans,
and resisted the sway of the Frankish emperor as a memorial
of their defeat. With Louis the German, side by side with
Charles and the Franks, were the men of the ancient linethe Teutons from the original seat of the Frank confederacy,
the warriors of Almagne and Saxe and Thuringia, throwing
off their community with a distant and, practically, a foreign
people, with whom they had no ties in common, either of
origin, or law, or language.
This battle it is necessary to dwell upon, because, though
apparently fought on behalf of rival chiefs, it was in reality
the bursting forth of national life. There were to be henceforth introduced into European history feelings which had
not yet been perceived-feelings of patriotic love for the natal
soil, of pride in the national greatness, and of equity and
moderation in the intercourse between state and state. Up
to this time the individual was all in all. The chief was a
warrior encamped on a certain piece of ground.  He took
possession of it yesterday, he might leave it to-morrow; but
from henceforth the tenure of his estate is changed. He sees
in long perspective his sons' sons and his remotest successors
living in the same tower and governing the same dependants.
Property, in short, gets established under the protection of
general law, and woe to the man beyond the Rhine, beyond
the Alps, beyond the sea, that from this time should do the
Frenchman wrong! His cause would be taken up —not by
a solitary baron, or even a combination of petty chiefs, but
by the collected state.
The three brothers, after the battle of Fontenay, in which
Lothaire was vanquished, made a peaceable partition of their




A. D. 873.]    GAUL BECOMES FRANCE.                 35
lands. The empire remained to the eldest along with Italy.
He obtained also a long strip of ground extending from the
mouths of the Rhone to the mouth of the Scheldt in the
North Sea; and on the eastward from Istria and the Alps to
the mouth of the Weser. All to the west of this arbitrary
line was France; all to the east of it was Germany. Placed
like an embankment between the two families of Franks,
this narrow band has been a debatable land between them
ever since.  Bit by bit the Frenchman has pressed his way,
absorbing portions of this territory as he went. Burgundy
is his, and Lorraine and Alsace; but his natural boundary
he has never permanently regained. The Teutonic tongue
has kept a firm hold of the noble river; and all the hearts of
Germany, from Cologne to the Black Forest, have made the
Rhine! the Rhine! the  rallying-cry against aggression.
For language in this instance, as in many others, has been
found a more powerful demarcation than geographical limits.
The treaty by which the partition was made, was written in
the tongues of the great cognate, but now widely separated
peoples. The Franco-Roman, parent of the present French,
was addressed to the subjects of Charles,-and veritable
German, which is intelligible at the present day, to the
followers of Louis. Henceforth each was to be recognised as
sovereign of a distinct and independent state; and though
for some time longer the title of Emperor was given to the
eldest lineal descendants of Charlemagne, their principal occupation was the government of the kingdom of France.
This, however, was no easy task, and the men to whose lot it
fell were not qualified for the great duty. Their kingship,
indeed, over a great portion of the land, was merely nominal.
There were rival princes claiming independence as dukes of
Aquitaine, marquises of Septimania, and counts of Brittany,
and twenty potentates besides. But more weakening to the
unhappy monarchs than the presumption of too powerful
vassals were the unintermitted invasions of the Norsemen,
which the sagacity of Charlemagne had foretold.  They pushed their light boats up the rivers as far as they could go



36              ROLLO OF NORMANDY.            [A. D. 885.
burning, slaying, and spoiling throughout their whole career;
and when water failed, or a force was collected to oppose
-them, they carried their vessels across the level plains mand
launched them  on somle pastoral brook, where their very
names were still unknown, and carried on their depredations
as before. When it was found that the crown was inadequate to the defence of the people, the possessors of the great
estates, who had hitherto held them by the policy or favour
of the king, retained them on their own behalf; promising a
shadowy sort of fealty to the monarch, but exercising in their
own names and on their own authority all the rights and
privileges which they had held by appointment from the
crown.  The church was far from being left behind in the
race of aggression upon the properties of the crown. Vast
domains accrued to it by the generosity or feebleness of the
successive kings.  Bishops and lordly abbots disputed the
precedence with the highest of the nobility, and did suit and
service in person, armed in complete steel, for the lands they
held as fiefs. The smaller proprietors followed these great
examples, and soon all the country was filled with square
towers and fortified castles; with which, and his handful of
followers, the stalwart baron guarded his crops and cattle, or
made head against the assault of northern freebooter, or unscrupulous neighbour.
But against Norman activity every defence was vain.
Pirates, warriors, and fanatics for their hideous faith, they
swarmed on every coast-forced their way up the Seine, and
for two years besieged the city of Paris. A strong man rose
among them of the name of Rollo. Too weak to resist, and
too impoverished to buy off the assailants, Charles the Simple (properly so called) brought one of his feudal att-ributes
into play, and by the ceremony of homage, converted the
savage conqueror from an enemy whom he could not meet in
the field, into a vassal who swore to be submissive to all his
commands.  On this condition the powerless king conveyed
Normandy, with all its rights and privileges, to the triumphant chieftain, and Brittany, in so far as it depended. on the




A. D. 987.]        HUGHI CAPET.                     37
crown. But as if to show that the submission was merely
nominal, and the liegeman superior to his lord, the act of investiture was accompanied by an insult to the monarch, which
must have interrupted the solemnity of the scene. When
the recipient of the fief was required to conclude the ceremony by kissing the sovereign's *foot, the haughty Norman
signed to one of his attendants to go through the form in his
stead. The burly soldier grasped the uplifted leg with all
his force, and raising it to his lips, upset the unprepared
monarch upon his back. In this unseemly manner the pirate
of the Baltic, and worshipper of the almost forgotten Odin,
took his place among the Christian chivalry of Europe as
Duke of Normandy, and one of the twelve Peers of France.
The old anarchy of the days of the last.of the Merovingians
seelllmed to be returned. But let us not be afraid. A new
principle, if not of legal obedience, at least of personal independence, was spread among the owners of the soil. And
faint as the light of royalty was, and in abeyance as all its
active powers were held, there still hung over it the sacred
feeling of supremacy and law. The forms of feudalism might
be destitute of effect at the time, but they had an internal
significance which only awaited a favourable moment to develop itself in act. And this moment came in the year 987,
when the chief of all the feudal magnates was called upon to
reunite the reality of power to the name of king. Hugh
Capet, duke of France and Burgundy, connected by marriage
and treaty with Normandy and other dukedoms, celebrated
for valour and skill, and looked up to as the sole hope of an
exhausted people and dishonoured crown, was summoned to
the throne, not so much by the voice of his country as by
the necessity of the time.  From  Rome again came forth
the words which overthrew an ancient dynasty, and inaugurated a new. Hugh Capet was declared by the Pope to be
" king of France in virtue of his great deeds," and the third
race began.




CHAPTER II.
FROM HUGH CAPET, A. D. 987, TO PHILIP AUGUSTUS, A. D. 1180.
THE Merovingian dynasty lasted two hundred and seventy
years, from Clovis to Pepin; the Carlovingian lasted two
hundred and thirty-six years, from Pepin to Hugh Capet.
The Franks, during those lengthened periods, had gradually yielded to the humanising influences of association with
the conquered peoples. Their language softened; they obtained some knowledge of old Roman institutions and laws;
they professed submission to the church, but the wildness of
their native forests was never altogether quelled. Wherever
they had power, they exercised it harshly; they quarrelled
among themselves; and when Hugh Capet came to the
throne, he succeeded to the chieftainship of a race more than
the government of a nation. The king had no influence,
and scarcely any acknowledged rights, beyond the limits of
his own domain. In Burgundy and France he was a real
substantial king, because in both he was a long-established
duke; but in Normandy, Brittany, and Aquitaine, and Toulouse, and Flanders, as he held none of the ducal authority
(originally communicated as a trust by Charlemagne), he was
not in possession of any kingly powers. Each of these territorial potentates claimed now to hold his lands with as high a
sanction as the king held his crown. When Capet reminded
a disobedient vassal of his duties, by asking " Who made you
Count? " the warrior answered, " Who made you King? "
— not, as may be supposed, with the vulgar insolence of a
rebellious subject, but with the pride of an equal, maintaining that the throne of France and the countship of Perigneux were equally by the grace of God.




A. D. 987.J         THE PEOPLE.                    39
The struggle henceforth was to be between the principles
of Royalty and Aristocracy. At first the forces were equally
balanced, and very slight circumstances might have affected
the result. Both parties for a long time seem to have been
profoundly ignorant that, in addition to crowned Prince and
armed Chevalier, there was another body whose fortunes were
interested in the debate, and that the masses of the people
would be a tower of strength whichever side they espoused.
Humbled, trodden down, and almost without life or hope,
the multitude still bore within it the means of future power.
It had arms and a heart-it could be won and trained; and
while envious chief and ambitious monarch were watching
each other's motions, calling round them their immediate retainers, and relying solely on sword and spear, there was a
third order in the State which seized the ground left unoccupied by the contending factions, offered refuge, peace, and
consolation to the wretched who had no other friend, and
bound the affections and interests of the poor and destitute
to the holy and compassionate Church. The Church undertook the championship of the weak and helpless, and by their
aid very nearly succeeded, not only in France, but through
the length and breadth of Christendom, in establishing an
ecclesiastical domination, to which both king and noble
would have been forced to submit. This, then, is the comnbat which we are called on to witness: the aggressions of a
proud nobility on the theoretical supremacy of the sovereign
-the gradual elevation of the kingly office above the competition of all or any of its subordinates, with the great part
played by priests and bishops in the strife, till finally, by the
junction of these last with the crown, and their desertion of
the people, they converted a government, in which power was
divided, though unequally, between the three Estates, into a
despotic monarchy, for which the subject of the Turkish
Sultan would have been loth to exchange the freedom and
independence left him by the traditions of his race.
Now, the period of the class-antagonism of king and peerage, extending from the accession of Hugh Capet, in 987, to




40                   MIDDLE AGES.               [A. D. 987
the reign of Louis the Eleventh, in 1461, is called the Middle
Ages; and of all this time of trouble and action, of universal
personal activity and deep mental torpor, the great characteristic is the Feudal System.  We will therefore take a
short view of the condition of France at the date we have
now reached, divided as it is between the rivals for supreme
influence; and then we can proceed with more assurance in
estimating the nature of the dispute, and the prospects of
success.  Some people say the feudal system existed in full
force among the original tribes from which the Franks proceeded, and that even in the time of Clovis it was established.
among all the Gauls.  And very likely it was; for the feudal
system was not the result of any legislator's institution, with
all the covenants arranged and settled beforehand, like the
clauses of an act of Parliament, but was the natural growth
of the circumstances in which people were placed, developed
itself more and more as the good effects of it were seen, and
only assumed the force and stability of written law when the
principles from which it came were reduced into systematic
order. These principles are very plain, and may be stated
to consist in the reciprocal obligation of protection and obedience.  As long as the superior afforded security against
oppression, and guaranteed the inferior in the possession of his
lands, he was bound to assist his lord by every means in his
power.  But, on the other hand, as long as the inferior was
ready to perform the services required, his lord was equally
bound to guard him from all wrong.  The whole country was
distributed on these conditions.  The king was nominally the
lord of all the soil.  Portions of this were held by great proprietors, who vowed submission and service; aid in war, and
counsel in peace, in return for their vast domains, and the
serfs and townsmen who occupied the ground.  They swore
this in a formal and binding oath, placing their closed hands
between the king's palms, and kneeling at his feet, and on
rising were presented with the emblems of investiture, and
were the liegemen or homagers of the chief.  These great
proprietors. however, had others dependent upon them, to




A. D. 987.]           FEUDALISM.                      41
whom they allotted, in a similar way and on similar colditions, portions of their domain.  These again subdivided
their portion among still smaller holders, till there was nc
more land to assign in fief, that is, on feudal terns; and
thus the great hierarchy went on and on, from the occupant
of a few hundred acres and a rugged tower, to the possessors
of miles of mountain and plain, and the great princes who
held whole countries in their hands, —till finally it reached
the sovereign himself, unapproachable in the theory of his
grandeur and power, but dependent in practice, for his influence and authority, on the number of his own personal retainers and the wealth of his hereditary domains.  Two immense advantages, however, were on the side of the king.
He was crowned as the visible and heaven-appointed chieftain of all the rest, and the estates of his liegemen lapsed
into his hands on breach of covenant, such as rebellion and
treason, and on failure of heirs.  Here was always a chance
for the suzerain lord; for, in those disturbed and lawless
times, the deaths of whole families were by no means uncommon. Battles, assassinations, and the unwholesomeness of
houses and lands, swept off entire lines of stalwart youths
and blooming maidens; and tower and hall, and all the territories, and all the serfs, and scarcely less valuable cattle,
reverted to the original bestower.  This paralysed the efforts
of the mightiest nobles against the Crown; for their subtenants-the men, for instance, who held their grounds from
the Dukes of Toulouse or Aquitaine, and were fighting under
their banner against the king —were never sure that a desolating fever or dangerous war might not exterminate the
family of their chiefs, and then the sovereign whom they
were now opposing would be, not only their national and
paramount lord, but their own immediate superior, Duke of
Toulouse or Aquitaine, as well as KlIing of France.  But the
establishment of well-defined feudalism at the accession of
the Capets was contemporaneous with what appeared a total
dissolution of all the bonds of society, and an almost universal belief in the approaching end of the world.  The world




42               ROBERT THE SAINT.          [A. D. 994
might well indeed be supposed to be near its end, when misery was so universal, and the prospect of improvement so
hopeless. It was supposed to have been prophesied in the
Book of Revelation, that at the end of a thousand years from
the birth of Christ the great dragon was to be let loose, and
the earth and all its inhabitants destroyed. As the dreaded
hour drew near, the symptoms of advancing doom  grew
clearer and clearer. The husbandman left off his labourthe baron divested himself of sword and buckler, and took
refuge in the church. Famine was universal over Europe.
Pestilence followed, and want of confidence between man and
man.  Battles were fought between nearest relations for
scraps of food, and, worst calamity of all, the instincts of
nature were set aside under the great agony of hunger and
despair, and human flesh was eatein almost without concealment. Miarshes covered the plains. Bridges were few, and,
being only of wood, had fallen into decay. Travelling was
very difficult, and trade almost impossible; for the enterprising merchant had to seek out the fords on the swollen
rivers, and avoid the castle of the rapacious freebooter on the
hill; and even the peaceful ecclesiastic, who was generally
safer than his countrymen, was condemned to remain in his
abbey, from the mere impossibility of traversing the land.
An abbot of Cluny, invited by Bouchard, Count of Paris, to
bring his religious to St. Maur des Fosses, excused himself
from making so long a journey in " a strange and unknown
country."  It was about the distance of Portsmouth from
London.
Such was the state of France when Robert, the son of
Hugh Capet, mounted the throne in 996. If gentleness and
meekness had at that time been thought qualities befitting a
king, the French would have gathered round the new monarch, and protected him from  the enemies whom his very
virtues raised against him. But they submitted to see him
rebuked and humbled, and rewarded him for his humiliation
with the vain appellation of Saint. This was the reason of his
punishment: he had taken to wife Bertha, widow of the




A. D. 996.]      EXCOMMUNICATION.                 43
Count of Blois, and was devotedly attached to her. But Bertha was his cousin in the fourth degree, and Robert had acted
as godfather to one of her children by her previous husband.
Whereupon the Pope, who had by this time stretched his
authority into all the relations of life, ordered him to dismiss
his unhappy queen, as he had married her without a dispensation from the Holy See. The relationship of blood, and
the closer bond established at the baptism of her child, made
the union illegal, and now it must be dissolved. Robert refused, protested, pleaded and prayed, but all in vain. The
haughty bishop was Gregory the Fifth, and the dreadful
sentence of excommunication was passed. From that moment the king was treated as the Jews of old treated the
lepers in their towns. His servants deserted him; the offices
of the Church-prayer, communion, penance and absolution
-were forbidden; nobody was allowed to speak to him, or
comfort him, or aid him in any way. The few victuals which
the compassion of his friends allowed him, were swallowed in
silence; the plate on which they had lain was passed through
the fire, and the fragments thrown to the dogs. The pious
and guiltless Robert yielded at last. Bertha left him, and
the haughty and imperious Constance, a daughter of the
Count of Toulouse, was forced on him in her stead. Robert
obeyed the orders of the Church, and looked back with unavailing regret on the vanished happiness of his home. In the
succeeding reigns we shall meet with this terrible instrument
of power wielded by the Popes in furtherance of their own
designs; and we will only, therefore, now add, that when an
interdict and excommunication were pronounced on a whole
kingdom, in order to bring a refractory king to reason, the
privations, which were limited to Robert personally, were
extended to every house and family in the land.  The
churches were shut up; marriages, christenings, burials, all
ceased; trade was suspended; and the whole machinery of
social life brought to a dead stand. We are, therefore, not
to wonder at the effects produced by the mere threat of this
tremendous infliction; we can only wonder that the folly and




44                DEATH OF ROBERT.           [A. D. 1031.
superstition of mankind ever allowed it to be carried intc
effect. The policy of Hugh Capet, which consisted in allowing the feudal chiefs to weaken themselves by mutual quarrels, was so far pursued by Robert, that he left them almost
entirely to themselves. He attended all the services of the
Church, dressed himself in a surplice, and joined the choristers in hymns of his own composition. No warlike triumphs
fill this reign; and even when the furious ambition of his
wife, the successor of the gentle Bertha, raised enmities between her husband and her son, the benevolent Robert defeated her machinations by throwing himself into the arms
of the malcontent Prince, and bringing him back to his duty
by tears and prayers. WVhen he died at sixty years of age,
in 1031, the attendants at the grave wept bitterly, and said,
" We have lost our Father. He governed us in peace, and
under him our goods were secure."  A noble epitaph, which
could be repeated at that period over the grave of no other
ruler in France. Wars and spoliation never ceased in all
the land, and the Chronicles contain little but a confused
medley of battles and negotiations, treaties broken as soon as
made, and quarrels patched up again between the Counts of
Blois and Champagne, the Dukes of Burgundy, and Counts
of Anjou.
The year after Robert's death the effect of these commotions was shown in the total exhaustion of all the combatants. A bad harvest added to the distress, and half the
population lay dead or dying. lMen's hearts were touched at
last, even through their coats of mail. The harshest and
bloodiest laid by the sword, and built monasteries and chapels
to appease the wrath of Heaven.  The clergy stepped nobly
forward and proclaimed the " Truce of God," by which it
was rendered sinful to wage war on any private account
between WVednesday night and Monday morning of each week
during the whole of Advent, and from the Monday before
Lent to Pentecost. When they added that this respite for
humanity was to be extended to all the holidays and festivals
of the Church, we are to look with reverence on the admirable




A. D. 1032.1         PILGRIMACES.                     45
motive from which those numerous observances originally
sprang, and even listen kindly to the absurd legends of the
Roman Catholic calendar; for to the canonisation, perhaps
of some altogether incredible saint, a clay's immunity froin
suffering was given to the peasantry of France. Never let
us mind whether St. Denis walked some miles with his head
off, or not.  His festival saved many a head from being broken, and that, in those days, was almost as great a miracle.
But church-building, and abstaining from slaughter a few
days in the year, did not satisfy the conscience of some of the
wilder chiefs. In all great calamities it was already an established practice to make a pilgrimage to Rome.  There, in
the city of the martyrs and apostles, the repentant warrior
lissed the sacred relics of the saints, and bent in prayer over
the graves of Peter and Paul.  A holier grave and more sacred soil at this time rose strongly to the general mind.  One
by one, or joined in small companies, excited penitents
turned their steps to the distant and unknown Jerusalem,
and by one touch of the Sepulchre and one night watch on
Calvary compensated for all the errors of their lives.  Few
came back, for the journey was far, and the conquerors of
Syria, the Fatimite Caliphs, hostile.  But the great custom
spread. In the first year of this century, Sylvester the Second, one of the best and most learned of the Popes, had
cried almost prophetically,," Arm, soldiers of Christ! " and
pointed to the birthplace of the Faith.  Many obscure men
had listened to the command; but at this time, when the
good King Robert died, and was succeeded by his son Henry
the First, pilgrims of higher rank set out on the perilous
journey.  Among these, the most distinguished was Robert
of Normandy, the father of WVilliam the Conqueror.  He
died at Nicaa, in 1035, on his return, and his duchy passed
peaceably to his son, in spite of the illegitimacy of his birth.
This sagacious ruler was too young at first for personal exertion, and then too busy with his domestic troubles to look
beyond his own territory; and the realm of France enjoyed
comparative repose.  The Truce of God had produced excel



46                      RELICS.              [A. D. 1032.
lent effects, and the. energy of lord and abbot, being diverted
from war and spoil, expended itself in raising the most gorgeous architectural buildings, cathedrals, and churches and
abbeys, of which the remains, and in some instances the
perfect fabric, are everywhere visible in France. Greatest of
all the builders was William of Normandy, and to his dukedom the student of art still turns for matchless specimens of
the early style, which has combined in marvellous proportions
the lightness and grace of individual details with the grandeur
and solemnity of the general effect. Thus we see that churchbuilding, pilgrimages, and their inevitable accompaniments,
employment of the poor, and improvement of the roads, succeeded to the chaotic state of society before the rules of
feudalism were established. Every village was enriched with
a house of worship, every warrior's hall became a centre of
intelligence and life. The mason who worked the tracery of
the abbey walls could not be destitute of other kinds of skill;
the colourist who stained the windows, the carver who fretted
the screen, brought their local information to the general
stock. The man who had traversed the Alps and rested in
the streets of Rome, or, grander still, the man who had taken
ship at Venice and passed the Grecian Isles, and sprung
ashore at the harbour of Aleppo, and climbed the MIount of
Olives, could not fail, however deficient in art or education,
to bring back with him  vast stores of new and elevating
thoughts.  Nor were their pilgrimages altogether without
reward even in a pecuniary sense. From the early seats of
the Faith they brought back relics and memorials which were
worth their weight in gold. Already the new-built churches
were glorified with the possession of cartloads of real bones
and chips of holy wood. Even a fragment of stone from the
floor of Pilate's judgment-hall, or a pebble from the garden
of Gethsemane, was set in costly frame, and placed with
prayers and processions on the altar. Elevated, ennobled,
almost sanctified by the mysteries of art and the treasures of
superstition, the priest exercised a sway over the simple
crowd which it is impossible to understand, and which it




A. D. 1032.]   INVASION OF ENGLAND.                 47
would be wrong to undervalue; for the priest was the patron,
friend, and protector to whom, in all their woes, they were
certain to have recourse. Though in later times ambition
and the natural corruption of prosperity combined to raise the
priestly office above the other orders in the State, in the
early days of priestcraft its influence was beneficial. It established a barrier between brute strength and individual
weakness. It was an idea; and great progress is always
made when the mind is able to realise something which is
not tangible by the hand or visible to the eye. It is in fact
the first triumph of mind over matter. Sword and spear
were blunted against the great thought represented by the
church, for it embodied all we have ever fought for since-the
equality of man in the sight of God, and the necessity of
justice, mercy, and peace.
Henry the First died in 1060, and was succeeded by
his son Philip at the age of seven. The Empire fell at the
same time into the hands of an infant, and France and Germany would have been the prey of a thousand petty barons
and rebellious princes, if it had not been for the insane perseverance of young and old in pushing onward to the Holy
Land.  Castles and hamlets were left deserted when those
long files of peaceful wanderers took their way; and gradually as the few survivors returned and related their adventures, and dwelt on the insolence and cruelty of the unbelieving Moslem who defiled the sacred place with their
presence, a feeling arose, strengthening with every fresh
report, that the sepulchre of Christ should be freed from its
pagan masters, and the banner of the Cross be waved on the
walls of Jerusalem. At the same time the designs of William upon England acted as a safeguard to France during the
minority of its king. Instead of breaking through the feeble
barriers which a regency presents to the powerful and discontented, all the ambitious or impoverished cavaliers and stronghanded adventurers, who were " lords of their presence and
no land beside," betook themselves to the levies of the Norman duke. Some pretence he made to a rightful title to the




48              INVASION OF ENGLAND.          [A. D. 1066.
English throne when his kinsman Edward died; but all men
felt that his true title was the phalanx of sixty thousand
gallant desperadoes who had sworn fealty to his cause.  Such
a builder of churches and payer of tithes was not without the
support of the ecclesiastical power, and blessed accordingly
by pope and bishop, and attended by innumerable priests and
friars, the vast expedition set sail. The sagacious governors
of France were not displeased to see the dukedom weakened
by the absence of all its warriors.  If the adventure succeeds,
they thought, the settlement of England will occupy all their
forces; if it fails, the fief of Normandy will easily be annexed.
William had great reason for speed in all his proceedings;
and while with pitiless hand he was riveting the feudal chain
upon the Saxon people, parcelling out the land and substituting everywhere a foreign priesthood for the native clergy,
who still preferred their diocesan liberty to the tyranny of
Rome, Philip saw with dismay, in 1071, when he attained
his eighteenth year, that the vassal who had yielded himn so
scanty a reverence as Duke of Normandy, was elevated far
above him in power, and equal to him in rank, as wearer of
the English crown.  It was, indeed, fortunate for the French
king that the attention of William was required in other
quarters; fortunate also that the knighthood of the land was
either engaged in penitential pilgrimage to the East, or fiery
onsets on the Saracens of Spain, against whom the Cid was
raising all the forces of Christendom; for if the barons of the
realm  had been retained at home, and ha!d witnessed the
meanness, dishonesty, and cowardice of their feudal chief)
they would have burst out in uncontrollable excesses, and
probably have swept him from his dishonoured throne.  But
though the nobles were too busy to take advantage of the
state of affairs, there was that other power we spoke of, perfectly awake to the opportunity offered to its ambition.  The
Church availed itself of the weakness of the king, and the
disunion or preoccupation of the lords. At the very time
when William was trampling on England, and Philip dishonouring the name of France, a sallow-facedl, conteptible



A. D. 1083.]    THE FIRST CRUSADE.                  49
looking monk of Cluny was elected to the Papal Chair.  He
had been for some time archdeacon of lome, and had ruled
with the superiority of an indomitable will the successive
pontiffs, whom he appeared to serve. But when the monk
Hildebrand formally took possession of the supreme power, in
name as well as reality, under the title of Gregory the Seventh, there was poured out upon Europe a torrent of ecclesiastical arrogance and assumption, which would appear mere
madness and self-inflation if' we did not see how admirably
calculated it was to attain its end. He insulted the kings of
France, and Hungary, and Poland, and Spain, and yet none
of all these princes could eventually stand up against his extravagant claims. And the secret of his success is this:
There was not a miserable hut in any hamlet in Europe, or a
wretched workshop in any town, where the voice of the man
who trampled on the pride of the oppressor was not hailed as
a sign of deliverance.  The Pope, it was known to the humblest in the land, was of no higher origin than themselves,
and they rejoiced in perceiving that there was a power upon
their side different from the baron's sword, and even the
monarch's, sceptre, and superior to them both. The monasteries and churches, of course, prided themselves on the preeminence of their representative, the strong-willed monk in
Rome; and as there were greater numbers among the poor,
and greater intelligence among the clergy, the two great instruments by which causes are won, were in the hands of the
Church. The nobility, however, might have interfered with
its schemes, and some method must be found of thinning their
numbers and diminishing their power.  The kings were~
equally anxious for the weakening of their rivals; and monarchs and popes watched the course of events, and beheld.
with satisfaction the commencement of the First Crusade in;
1095. In this apparently mad but really beneficial expedition, France was stripped of warriors and money to an incredible extent. Poor barons sold or mortgaged their estates,
and died in the Holy Land. The rising towns purchased
fresh franchises from their needy owners. Shipping increased.
4




50          ESTABLISHMENT OF COMMUNES.  [A. D. 1103.
at all the seaports on the Mediterranean, and trade started at
once into activity; so that the two potentates, the French
king and the Roman bishop, had merely exchanged the antagonist whose opposition they feared. A worse foe took the
place of the rebellious lords, for after the First Crusade wealth
and intelligence-which are the most fatal enemies to absolute power, whether civil or ecclesiastic-began to be diffusedcl; and from this time we find a new element in French
society-capitalists who could lend money to the extravagant
freeholder, and merchants whose warerooms were filled with
all the commodities of the East.
Philip-as trifling but not so harmless as one of the idle
kings of the Merovingian line-was succeeded by his son
Louis. He was already the sixth of that well-known name,
but was indebted to his personal appearance for the epithet
by which he is distinguished from the others. He shines in
history as Louis the Fat. But his obesity was equalled by
his goodness. He perceived the changes which altered circumstances were making on the great body of the inhabitants.
They were no longer the unreasoning, uninquiring multitude
they had been before. Their minds were now opening, and
their purses getting filled. He had the political wisdom to
assist them in their upward progress, and brought over to the
royal cause the masses of the towns by the establishment of
CC Communes," with franchises and privileges, and the humblest of his subjects by the emancipation of many of the serfs.
He kept the Church in good humour, by obedience to its
commands, and generosity to the clergy; and would in all
things have been wise and beneficent if he had not had the misfortune to be opposed and thwarted in all his plans by Henry
the First of England. This potentate, after recovering the
duchy of his father by force of arms, to the exclusion of his
elder brother, was a perpetual thorn in the side of the French
king.  Powerfiul as Normandy had been before, its importance was now greatly enlarged by the increased rank of its
ruler, and by the knowledge that, in addition to its own
forces, the wealth and warriors of Britain were ready to rise




A. D. 1154.]      SECOND CRUSADE.                   51
in its defence.  The vassal looked with contempt on the
resources of his lord, and cherished, even then, high notions
of what his united Normans and Saxons would do for the
English crown. The troubled years of Stephen's reign gave
solme respite to the overmatched suzerain; but an incident
of the Second Crusade rendered the affairs of his successor,
Louis the Seventh, or the Young, more desperate than ever.
Roused by the preaching of St. Bernard, the great Abbot of
Clervaux, almost all the gentlemen of France, their gentle
and pious king, and Henry of Normandy-afterwards Henry
the Second of England-and the flower of European nobility,
had hurried to the East. Along with the splendid host went
princesses and queens; high-born ladies, emulous of the Ihardihood and enterprise of the warriors, and ready like them
to unite the utmost fervour of religious zeal with the luxuries
and immorality of a court.  Highest in rank, and most
eminent in vice, was Eleanor, the unworthy wife of the
French monarch.  Contemning all the restraints of relationship and faith, she outraged all the feelings of the time by
the profligacy of her behaviour. Louis the Young drove the
degraded woman from his home, and repudiated her on his
return to Europe. But Henry of England, who was fully
aware of her improprieties, and knew the scorn and shame she
had brought on the Christian and queenly character, would
see nothing in Eleanor but the lands, and towers, and castles
of which she was possessor.  She was lady of Poitou and
Aquitaine, and of all the territories from the Pyrenees to the
Loire-and when Henry, by marrying her six weeks after her
divorce, added these to the duchy of Normandy, to whiclh he
succeeded through his mother the Empress Miaud —and to
the county of Anjou, which he inherited from his father, his
domains were equal to a fifth of the whole of France, while
the monarch's direct authority did not extend over more than
tenth. When England was finally thrown into the oppoi-t.
scale by Henry's accession to the throne in 1154, the chanc.-s
seemed very much against the guileless Louis, who pe~rhi.a.
regretted when it was too late the fastidious deliacevy -lwn_:




THE GOOD LOUiS iPHE SEVENTH.  IA. D. 1154,
had made him sacrifice the principal part of his power, and
throw it into his rival's hands.  He did not affect the glory
of a warrior-and his influence was limited to his owV
domains.  Henry, in opposition to this, had the vigour and
unscrupulousness of his race-was a bold chevalier and politic
king-rich in the support of a great kingdom, and in possession of a fifth of the hostile realm.  Yet Louis was the
successful combatant in this duel of honesty with violence.
The length of his reign enabled him to lay the foundation for
future increase. His reputation for justice attracted references
to his decisions, from nobles who might have been too proud
or too politic to submit their differences to a more ambitious
chief.  The oppressed, even among the subjects of Henry and
the other princes, appealed for protection to the good king,
and seldom  appealed in vain.  His was a moral greatness,
which it is delightful to see recognised among all those fiery
and illiterate freebooters, who combined the pride of knighthood with the cruelty and rapacity of barbarians.  Henry,
on the other hand, in a reign of equal length, established
nothing, because he tried to force everything to his will.
The wife he had married from ambition was the evil spirit of
his home.  She stirred up rebellion in his family, and sent'orth her sons to fight their father in the field.  Even his
contest with the ecclesiastical power, which we are apt to
look upon with favourable eye, sprang in him from a mere
desire of personal aggrandisement; and when in addition to
nis family and his wife, the great body of the clergy turned
against him, and he was held up as a tyrannical oppressor of
his sons, an unfaithful spouse to Eleanor, and c a murderous
opponent of the Church, all the props upon which his
greatness rested were removed.  A'Beckett, his friend and
favourite, now Archbishop of Canterbury and champion of
his order, fled to his rival Louis for defence.  The Pope
joined in the outcry against him, and we see the greatest of
European sovereigns, the unhappiest of husbands, fathers,
and rulers, doing penance before the tomb of a revengeful
and ambitions priest, gaining a verbal absolution indeed, for




A. D. 1189.]      PHILIP AUGUSTUS.                     53
the sin he had committed in wishing the death of his
opponent, but burdened with  the  disgrace of a useless
humiliation, and thwarted in all his projects both at home
and abroad.
Louis died in 1180.  The new  French king, Philip
Augustus, was four-and-twenty years of age when his rival,
Richard the First of England, succeeded to his father's throne
in 1189.  The contest seemed now to be on more equal
terms, for Richard was not more warlike than his liege lord,
nor Philip Augustus more unscrupulous than his liegeman:
we shall see how their enmity proceeded.  But now that we
have brought France and England as it were face to face, it
will be necessary to take a very short view of the state of
society at this time, and see what progress has been made
since our last survey.
The increase of trade and the impoverishment of the
nobility, both the results of the Crusades, had made great
changes in the relative positions of the lord and the citizen.
Large estates, with all their rights and privileges, were mortgaged to wealthy individuals or corporations, to enable the
owner to make a dignified appearance in the Holy Lancd.  i,
addition, however, to the title-deeds and conveyances, the
needy baron was obliged to sign away his extravagant poWee
of oppression, his portage and tax on entrance within the.
walls, his claim  of military service or pecuniary supporte
and as it had become the policy of the king to fin-Ad L t'money and adhesion from the burgher class by an incrYease
of their liberties, and a guarantee of thle franchises they hadi
already acquired, there were soon seen in all parts of France
flourishingm little commercial towns, with regard to which the
manorial tower beside it had entirely changed its relations.
It was no longer a castle raised to awe and do4minate the.
peaceful workman, but a fortification held in his c-etene
by a burly cavalier, who was glad to receive wages;rorem tEae
citizens, and even to share in the profits of their trade.
K'ing and noble, at all events, were not now u-nited to
oppress the lower order, and by this means a great pALE o:




54                     ABELARD.          LA. D. 1159-1177
the Church's peculiar duty was taken away from it. A
walled town, with charters of independence from the Crown
or great nobility, was as sure a refuge from injustice as the
monastery had been, and offered greater chances for the
acquisition of wealth and information; for the gradual increase of riches, and the opening of men's minds by the
expeditions to the East, had given leisure and inclination
for far higher studies than former years had known. People
in the enjoyment of competence, without the fear of starvation or the necessity of work, began to inquire. Inquiry led
to doubt, and in the reign of the gentle Louis was presented
the strange sight of a lecturer on theology who was not in holy
orders, and who ventured to assign to reason some weight in
the balance of religious truth.  This was Abelard, more
famous among us now by his love of Eloise and the beautiful
lines of Pope, but in his own day the most eloquent, the
most learned, and the most accomplished man in Europe.
His speculations were condemned by the Council of Soissons,
and he retracted his statements, and died in the monastery
of Cluny. But Abelard had been the most popular professor
ever known. His pupils were so numerous that they could
not find room in the towns where he lectured, but encamped
in the open fields. Among all these the germ of inquiry was
spread, and merchant, and baron, and educated scholar, all
began to open their eyes to the state of the Church, and to
examine into its claims. The state of the Church was deplorable, and its claims higher than ever.  There was a
chnlsml in the Chair of St. Peter itself. Two Popes professed
each to be the lineal successor of the Apostle, and that his
rival was Antichrist. Alexander the Third and Victor the
Fourth were supported by different -actions, and offered for
eighteen years, from 1159 to 1177, the edifying spectacle of
Lhe two contending fathers of Christendom  interchanging'their threats and curses. The lives of the clergy were in
worse keeping with their profession  than even their ambation and wealth. They were almost universally sunk in
enrality and vice. The literature,  i;ch as it was, of which




A. D. 177.]    A SCHISM IN THE CHURCH.              55
they had been the sole custodiers, had passed into other
hands.  Abelard and his disciples knew more than any of
the monks or clergy. The Gay Science, or ballad poetry of
Provence, had taken its first beautiful rise, and kings and
nobles sang sweet sonnets to their harps, and followed them
with bitter satires on the manners of their priests. The
Church saw its danger, and had recourse to the secular arm.
Heretics were burned, and laws passed against recusants.
Excellent guide up to a certain time of a barbarous and believing people, defender and guardian of the weak against the
masters who were superstitious as well as tyrannical, the
Church, about this time, found that its pupil had outgrown
its lessons, and that its ward, whom it had succoured and
enslaved in his nonage, was now strong enough to do battle
for himself. A fourth element is henceforth added to the
composition of French society: in addition to king, and
church, and nobles, there is now the people.




CHIAPTER  III.
FROM PHILIP AUGUSTUS, A. D. 11S0, TO THE DEATH OF SAINT LOUIS,
A. D. 1271.
PHILIP AUGUSTUS, ready of hand, false of tongue, was an
adversary to the English kings very different from peaceful
Louis the Sixth and honest Louis the Young.  Henry the
Second found the change before the Frenchman had been
many years on the throne.  His eldest son was supported in
rebellion to his authority.  Cabals and parties were made
among the lesser vassals against the pretensions of the now
foreign Duke of Normandy, and every enemy he made, whether
in England, or Poitou, or Aquitaine, was sure of a warm ally
in the person of the suzerain lord. Nor had the nobility of
France itself much cause for rejoicing.  He pursued the same
plan of weakening and division in his own domains.  Baron
was roused against baron.  He chastised with fire and sword
the great feudatories of tile Crown, if they raised forces that
might be dangerous, under pretence of making private war
upon each other; and thus, by courage and cunning, by
establishing boroughs as a counterpoise to lords, and encouraging colleges and universities as a counterpoise to the
Church, he in a short time taught the whole nation to look to
the throne as supreme in all matters ecclesiastical and civil.
When Henry the Second died in 1189, his successor Richard
the First was actually in the French king's camp, and only
pausing for a while from active war against his father, because
the old man was too broken-hearted to continue his resistance.  John, whom his father's kindness had spoiled, had
also been won over by the promises of Richard, or more
probably of Philip Augustus, and suddenly the unfeeling




A. D. 1189.] RICHARD THE FIRST OF ENGLAND.          57
son and disobedient vassal found himself in possession of all
the kingdoms and estates which it had been his selfish and
short-sighted policy to sever from the English crown. His
friendship with the French monarch was of course not long
maintained.  Both young, both utterly unprincipled and selfish, their only struggle henceforward was to do as much
mutual damage as they could. Richard hurried over to England, and inaugurated his reign by an indiscriminate and
almost entire slaughter of the Jews. The unhappy members
of that race who had settled in France under the gentle governance of Louis the Seventh, had been spoiled and murdered
by Philip Augustus as soon as -he mounted the throne.
With matchless generosity he paid off the debts of his Christian subjects by making it death for the Hebrew creditor to
accept a shilling; and to reward himself for this great benefit,
he forced all the debtors to pay one-fifth of their obligations
to himself. Fired with noble emulation, Richard plunderecl
the sons of Abraham with a fiendish sort of glee. He took
their riches and confiscated their bonds, and set them up to
ransom. The homeless nation found no rest in England.
The oriental seclusion of their families was rudely broken in
upon by armed assailants.  The Rabbi of York called on the
husbands and fathers of his flock to deliver their wives and
maidens from the pollution with which they were threatened.
The community was gathered into one house. The elders
stabbed the young girls, who smiled as they died, and then
themselves. The solitary survivor set fire to the building
and perished in the flames.  But king, and noble, and priest,
and peasant, felt no remorse: they looked on the Jews as the
personal enemies of the Saviour, and thought their presence
among them was sufficient to bring down the wrath of God.
Delivered from their debts, the knights and citizens were
now perhaps in a position to purchase whatever the King
wished to sell. That needy and greedy warrior sold everything he could lay his hands upon. He sold the domains of
the Crown, and the domains also of other people. He sold
the prerogatives of the king, and the rights of the nobles.




58            QUARRELS OF THE KINGS.    [A. D. 1190.
All the treasures of his father were seized and catalogued;
and on the great plains of Vezelay, in the summer of 1190,
the two greatest sovereigns of Europe, and perhaps the two
most unprincipled men, placed themselves at the head of the
greatest army which had yet been assembled to chastise the
Saracen; and after professions of friendship and fidelity to
their words, which were very soon forgotten, they started for
Jerusalem. One curious thing is worth observing here, that
Richard the English king embarked from Marseilles; and Philip
Augustus, who as yet had no port on the Mediterranean, embarked from Genoa. Marseilles was a free port, but was a
fief of the kings of Aragon. The main body of the English
forces sailed down channel, like our transports of the present
day; and the armies were joined together once more in Sicily.
Philip Augustus kept a suspicious eye upon his rival, and saw
in him a deadlier enemy than the Paynim Saladin. Richard,
who seems to have had an irrepressible inclination for blows
and violence, got into a variety of scrapes, some so undignified
that it is wonderful they are recorded in the chronicles of the
campaign. One day he heard the cry of a hawk in a working man's cottage. Not a very treasonable cry, you would
think, but all the blood of the Norman kings was boiling up
in a moment. A peasant to have a knightly bird-the bird
which sat with embroidered hood and silver bells on wrist of
high-born cavalier and noble lady! He rushed into the
house, seized the bird, and was making off with it, when the
Sicilian peasant, who perhaps himself had some Norman blood
in his veins, rose up in anger, drew a knife against the king,
and called his neighbours to the rescue. The chivalrous
Richard, unable to draw his sword in so low a dwelling, and
unsupported by his train, was hustled into the street with a
shower of blows from stick and stone, and, greatest indignity
of all, an amount of kicks which would have been a more
appropriate punishment for a humble-born robber. Shortly
after this, Philip Augustus had another gratification at his
enemy's expense. Richard had offended the inhabitants of
Messina, by seizing on a convent, which he converted into




A. D. 1190.]   PHILIP S RETURN TO FRANCE.            59
barracks for his troops. They refused admittance to his army
one day, and stood to their arms.  Nothing could be more
agreeable to the English king. He forced his way in, slew
the resisting citizens, and, in sign of victory, hoisted his
Norman standard on the walls of the town. This was too
much for the pride of the feudal chief. Normandy was but
a fief of the Crown of France, and Philip Augustus ordered
his vassal's flag to be pulled down, and his own raised in its
stead. From this time forth there was scarcely a concealment of the enmity of the two crusaders.  They accused
each other in good broad language of the basest crimes, and
finally went through the form of a reconciliation, and continuecl
their voyage. History and romance have rendered the main incidents of this the Third Crusade well known to us all; but not
even the enchanting colouring of poetry and imagination can
hide from us the coarser features of reality. After two years
of gallant achievements against the Saracens, and undignified
quarrels among themselves, the chiefs of the expedition broke
out into open separation. Philip Augustus, to quiet Richarcl's
apprehensions, made oath on the Gospels and the relics of
saints that' he would be true to his cause, and maintain his
Interests in England and Normandy with all his power;"
and, full of these professions of amity and justice, left the
crusaders' camp, and returned to Europe. On his way
through Rome he took the opportunity of being relieved from
all his vows of friendship and protection to his absent brother,
by the easy connivance and absolution of the Pope; and the
moment, accordingly, he reached his capital, he set every
engine in motion to disturb the peace of England, ancl destroy. the independence of the English fiefs in France.
Richard, in the mean time, was perfectly contented with
battles all day and festivals all night, and did not hesitate to
offend beyond forgiveness the greatest of the European princes
who had still remained with the array. This was Leopold,
IDuke of Austria. In reply to an insolent observation of his
Highness's, Richard, remembering perhaps the incident of
the hawkl in the cottage of Sicily, bestowed kicks on the




6(0               RICHARD'S RETURN.            [A. D. 1191
recusant, which were perhaps more effective than any eloquence could have been.  One by one he converted all his
friends into enemies, made terms with Salaclin, which, however favourable to the Christian cause, appeared a concession
to the claims of the unbelievers; and filnally, on hearing of
the proceedings of his rival in France, determined to return
home.  But the reputation he had acquired in Palestine was
of the worst. Right or wrong, he was accused of great
crimes: of suborning assassins to murder the M1arquis of
Montserrat, the nominal King of Jerusalem; of attempting
to poison his liege lord, the King of France; of disregard
of his own followers, andl ferocious cruelty to his captive enemies.  On one occasion, indeed, he drew up two thousand
five hundred Saracens in a field near Acre, and slew every
man of them in cold blood. His announcement of this massacre is conveyed in a tone of triumph to the Holy St. Bernard;
and it is added, by the historian of the time, that it was clone
" with the assent of all."  Two years of warfare, and sufferings from climate and. disasters, had seen the expedition
dwindle away.  Out of three hundred thousand men who
took the Cross, but six thousand remained alive; and, with
a few faithful attendants, Richard embarked for Entgland.
Philip Augustus took measures for a struggle for life or death,
N-when he heard that he was on the voyage home.  Other
princes, also, refractory vassals, rebellious brother, insulted
dukes, were all at gaze when it was ascertained the Lionheart
was close at hand.  Philip Augustus surrounded himself
with a body-guard in the heart of Paris. John trembled at
the sound of his name among his sycophants in London.
Leopold of Austria nursed bitter recollections of his controversy with the heavy-booted King; and even. the Emperor
of Germany thought so fierce and so valiant a champion better employed in the slaughter of unbelieving Moslem, than
in spreading terror and confusion among Christian states.
tRichard's voyage was not prosperous.  Shipwreck forced
him on the shore of the Adriatic, ftoml  which he determined,
disguised in palmer weeds, to find his way to the West. He




A. D. 1194.]    RICHARD A PRISONER.                 61
was recognisedl and arrested, for he was in the territories of
the Duke of Austria, and had little to expect from the mercy
of the man he had so offended. Moved about from castle to
castle, he was at last surrenclered, for the sake of safe custody,
into the hands of HIenry the Sixth, Emperor of Germany.
Philip Augustus wrote to his new jailor to hold his prisoner
fast. The relations of the leaders he had insulted in the crusade made the same request. But, strange to say, the instinct of generosity aroused the people. The moment the arrest was known, rebellion against his authority ceased in
England and on the Continent. The multitude recognisedc him
now only as the man with the great heart and conquering
sword, who had fought for the deliverance of the Holy Tomb
and. the wood of the true Cross. The men of Rouen, under
the guidance of Robert of Leicester, repulsed the French king,
who made an assault upon the town.  The other powers
waited in silence to see what the event of those strange incidents would be; and, flying about like a vengeful fury,
threatening, praying, promising, by turns, was the old and
still undaunted Eleanor, the mother of the captive knightwriting eloquent petitions to the Pope, and shrieking imprecations against the disloyalty of Austria and the injustice of
the Emperor.  Henry the Sixth was overwhelmed with the
obloquy he had excited. He summoned a diet of the States,
and Richard appeared before them.  A more eloquent defence has never been made. He was accused of the high
crimes and misdemeanours we have named; and this was his
answer, as regarded his dissensions with Philip Augustus, his
negotiation with Saladin, and the poisoning of the Marquis
of Mlontserrat:-" As to my quarrels with Philip, let the
Crusaders reply. Which has best served the cause of religion
-the perjured King who fled before the victory, or the faithful KIing who fought in the Holy Land while there was a
horse left to carry one of his men-at-arms?  I have treated
with Saladin —well-but the treaty was glorious, since Jerusalem is henceforth open to every pilgrim; since the princes
of Edessa, Antioch, and Tripoli, are confirmed in their power;




62                   HIS SPEECH.            LA. D. 1199.
since we have a king in Judea, and a king in Cyprus to defend our brothers. And, lastly, it is said I poisoned the fMarquis of Iontserrat. To this I make no reply, save that I carry
the cross of my Saviour on my breast, and the crown of England on my head. Let the accuser show himself with arms
in his hand. I appeal to the judgment of God, who is protector of the hionour of kings."
He was acquitted by acclamation, and the Emperor promised to set him at liberty on payment of an enormous ransoml for the expenses of his keep. A tax was raised in all his
realms. Eleanor contributed from her own stores. Richard
took his way towards England, and Philip Augustus wrote to
John, " Be on your guard, the devil is broke loose."  Two
years of petty warfare, of sudden attacks upon Normandy, or
unexpected marches into France, were the very inadequate
termination of a death-feud between the two most famous
fighting men in Europe. The crusade and the ransom had
exhausted the wealth and population of Richard's states.
Philip Augustus used other arms against his vassal, and was
loth to meet him in the field.  At last necessity imposed a
peace, and there was even an interview between the kings.
Richard sat in a barge upon the Seine, and Philip Augustus
on horseback on the shore. If they had met foot to foot one
of them would have died. They agreed on this occasion to a
truce for five years, and parted never to meet again. Richard
heard that one of his feudatories in Limoges had found a hidden treasure. IHe set out at once and made a demand of all.
A part was offered and refused. When the siege began, a
certain archer upon the wall took aim at the kin,, and sent
his arrow deep into the shoulder. The assault, however, was
given, and the garrison taken prisoners. The archer, Bertrandc de Gourdon, was brought to the side of the dying
king. "6 W~hy did you point your weapon against the Lorl's
anointed?" he asked. "Because with your own hand you
slew my father and my two brothers, and I glory in avenging
their fate."  The king, conscience-struck, and moved with
the bravery of the youth, forgave him and died. A noble for



A. D. 1204.] NORMANDY ATTACHED TO FRANCE.           63
giveness, and worthy of a repentant soldier; but in vain, for
the infuriated attendants slew the archer with unheard of
cruelty, and stained the memory of their lord with their useless zeal.
France breathed more freely when the terrible Crusader
was no more. England felt the want of his strength of will,
though delivered from his tyrannous grasp, when it fell upon
the evil days of a dastard like John. Better be trampled on
by a man, than sold and degraded by a coward. Philip Augustus saw his advantage, and in a short space obtained the
object which had excited the ambition and cupidity of the
French monarchs for three hundred years. He made himself
master, by conquest and confiscation, of the dukedom of Normandy, and the other possessions of the Norman kings, with
the exception of Rochelle.  This was achieved in the year
1204; and the last news which reached Eleanor, who had
retired into the convent of Fontevrault, was, that all the
principalities and towns which she had brought to the French
and English crowns, were torn from her unworthy son, and
attached forever to the sovereignty of France.
From this time forward, the development of the internal
policy of the two kingdoms took a different direction.  Released from  their obligations as Norman landholders, the
great nobles of England limited their views to their island
possessions.  There was no longer a rival interest between
their estates near Warwick and their estates near Rouen.
Their position in England was higher and more independent.
In this country they held directly of the crown, and in Normandy were the vassals of a chief who was himself a vassal to
the king of France. They were under two masters, and liable to the wrath of each for deeds performed in the other's
service. The Duke of Normandy revenged himself for their
delay in bringing him aid upon the borders of the Loire, by
confiscation and fine upon their lands upon the Trent.  The
king of France punished them for furnishing Lancashire levies to his enemy the English king, by carrying fire and sword
among their territories upon the Seine. Gradually they felt




64            ADVANCES OF THE CROWN.    [A. D. 1204.
that they were considered strangers, and began to hate the
land from which they had been expelled. Anglo-Saxons, the
great-grandsons of the Franklins of Hardicanute and Edward,
were enrolled among the tenants and men-at-arms of the descendants of the warriors of Hastings. An approach was
made between the races, and the sign of the union between
conqueror and conquered was made by a curtailment, by the
barons, of the prerogatives and tyranny of the king, who was
the enemy of both. This junction of high and low, and rapid
growth of nationality among the nobles, produced the famous
Magna Charta, or Great Charter, by which the liberties of all
generations of Englishmen were secured. In France, on the
other hand, the march of affairs was in a totally opposite path.
Kingship grew in the one country as rapidly as citizenship in
the other. In France, the nobility became altogether subordinate to the crown; in England, it became amalgamated
with the people. The result is, that the throne in France
became despotic, and in England the people continued free.
Without a hereditary class to stand between the chief and the
multitude, the government grows either a despotism or a republic, or fluctuates with bloody alternation between the two.
By the reabsorption, therefore, of Normandy into France, it is
not too much to say, that England gained infinitely more
than her rulers lost. It gained concentration of interests, and
perfect identity of blood and feeling between all classes of the
inhabitants. They lost a barren coronet which kept them
feudatories of a rival king, and mixed them up in all the
fights and squabbles of a savage and discontented peerage.
Philip Augustus had now extended his personal power
over a large portion of the land called France, and had
realised in a great extent the idea of Hugh Capet, the
founder of his house. Internal division had so weakened the
great nobles who at first had maintained an equality with the
Crown, that they could no longer resist his claims as feudal
chief. They attended his councils, summoned his refractory
vassal John to appear before their court as his jury of peers,
and on his recusancy assigned his domains by irrevocable sen



i. D. 1206.]          TOULOUSE.                     65
tence to the suzerain as lapsed to the Crown. This was the
death-sentence of the peerage, properly so called. The wiser
nobility of a former age would have guarded against such a
preponderance being given to the royal power, and might
have pronounced John unworthy to rule without depriving
his family of its succession. Nothing was spared by Philip
Augustus to win over his new subjects to his cause. They
were confirmed in all their rights and privileges, and the old
customs of Normandy guarded by oath. Satisfied with these,
the wretched tyrant, who wallowed in sensuality at London,
was rapidly forgotten.  No friendship, of course, existed
between the disinherited barons of England and the successors to their Continental estates. Another conquest of
England was talked of by the Norman knights; and a conquest of France was not obscurely hinted at by the English
nobles. Meanwhile great things took place in the southern
provinces of Philip Augustus's realm, in which he showed
the masterly policy of inaction, and reaped all the fruits of
victory without the dangers of the fight. In fact, no fighting:
was required from anybody else when there was such a pugnacious pontiff sounding the trumpet of battle as Pope Innocent the Third. Never since the departure of Gregory the
Seventh had so tremendous an apparition alarmed the poten —
tates of Europe. Thick and fast flew his anathemas and
excommunications.  Philip Augustus himself lay under the
curse of the Church for resisting the spiritual aggressions of
St. Peter on the liberties of his national clergy. Otho the
Emperor was his tool; and as to John of England, he
trembled at the sound of his name. Now it chanced that,a
certain Raymond of Toulouse was too much addicted to the
Gay Science, and listened with too eager ears to the songs,
of the troubadours and their " sirventes" against the Pope;
His subjects were no less inclined for poetry and independence
than himself; and clothing their hatred of their sensual and
overbearing priests in a doubt of some of the tenets of Rome,
they ceased to be considered merely disobedient sons of the
Church, and became enemies of the Faith. From insolent
5




66                 PHILIP AUGUSTUS.          [x. D. 1206,
metre-ballad-mongers they became heretics of the blackest
dye. They denied transubstantiation, the supremacy of the
Pope, the necessity of celibacy in the clergy, invocation of
the saints, and the fires of purgatory. Innocent maintained,
on the other hand, that they hated the Cross, vilified the
Gospel, and worshipped the devil. Philip Augustus merely
perceived that the territories of Raymond of Toulouse had
several ports on the Mediterranean, and that France would
be immensely benefited by an outlet to the sea. A crusade,
not against distant Paynims or the swarthy chivalry of Spain,
but against the most refined, the most musical, and the most
effeminised population in Europe, was proclaimed with great
solemnity by the Father of the Christian world. All the
villains in all lands joined the banner of the truculent John
de Mlontfort, and rushed forward at the call. Dominic, a
Spanish friar, more furious than his master, hounded on the
slaughterers. Alas for the beautiful towns and valleys of
Provence!  Blood, and fire, and spoliation, and outrage
everywhere. But when all the towns were desolate, and all
the fields ravaged, and all the villages depopulated, the
Church had effected its triumph. The voice of heresy was
heard no more; no, nor the voice of song, nor the verses of
passion, nor the harp of the minstrel. The gay science died
utterly out, and the very language, with all its delicate
inflections and musical pronunciation, disappeared from
human hen.  Raymond, the heretic troubadour, was despoiled of his estates; and, noticeable fact, in the midst of
that confused story of suffering and wrong, France acquired,
in direct sovereignty, the harbours of the Narbonnaise, and
set her firm foot on the Mediterranean Sea. This crowning
gain, however, was reserved for the successor of Philip Augustus.  That politic ruler laid the foundation, and left the
building to other hands. His policy, indeed, had been too
successful, and awakened the fears of the other princes. The
-Emperor Otho, and John of England, and the Count of
Flanders, entered into a league against him in the year 1214,'the object of which was not only his displacement from the




A. D. 1214.1     BATTLE OF BOVINES.                 67
throne, but the division of France among themselves. John
had qualified for this effort by surrendering his kingdomn of
England into the hands of Innocent the year before, and receiving it as a liegeman of the Pope.  O tho also had made his
submission to the Papal chair; and a vast body of Germans and
Flemings, and strangers from all quarters, blest by the apostolic chief, took the field against the successor of Clovis, and
Pepin, and Hugh Capet, who had all been declared the true
champions and eldest sons of the Church. John landed at
Rochelle, and on comning into presence of the knights and
citizens who defended his ancient patrimony of Anjou, took
to flight and returned home. In Flanders the enemy were
more dangerous. An emperor of Germany and a king of
France were face to face. The Emperor had summoned to
his aid all his supporters, the feudatories and princes of the
Empire, and dependants on his various crowns.  Philip
Augustus, who had enlisted the affection of the townsmen to
his side in his struggle with his nobility, continued his confidence in them during the war. The contingents of fifteen of
the Communes or municipalities appeared in his array. The
battle was fought at Bovines, on the bank of the river [Mark,
and was decisively in favour of the French. Otho, after a
narrow escape from the hands of William des Barres, a natural
brother of Simon de Montfort, who twice got hold of him by
the neck, made his escape, and hid his disgrace in Saxony.
Submission was made by the few survivors of the fight; and,
illustrative of the manners of the time, the gallant citizens
who had contributed to the victory were presented with hundreds of the captive knights, and enriched their towns with
the amount of the ransoms they exacted.  This appearance
of burghers on the same field with mounted retainers and
armed cavaliers, is not without its significance as a sign of
approaching change. A townsman who could wield a sword,
and march under the banner of his craft, was not quite so
helpless as the knights, in their supercilious ignorance, supposed. Take notice, therefore, of this, and we shall see that
the nation which trusted most largely to its yeomen, achieved




68            INVASION OF ENGLAND.         iL. D. 1214.
a mighty superiority in liberty, and wealth, and arms, to
those which relied too long on " helm and hauberk's twisted
mail." This victory, besides strengthening the personal authority of Philip Augustus, is memorable as being the first
in the long series of national triumphs which have given
France the pre-eminence in military power.  The battles
before this, in which French blood had been shed, were
decided on French soil and between French combatants.
Here France ranged itself in one compact and irresistible battalion. HIer enemies were foreigners, and her glory spread
over the whole realm. Enough of Norman feeling survived
on the other side of the Channel, to make the knights and
gentlemen of England take pride in the prowess of their
former countrymen at Bovines; and when the disheartened
noble and discontented spearman compared the courage and
energy of the French monarch with the falsehood and effeminacy of their own, they felt shame as well as anger at their
subjection to such a man. Accordingly, when in the following year, 1215, it was spread over England that Pope
Innocent, out of his plenary authority and love for kings, had
absolved John from the oaths he had sworn at Runnymede,
and recommended him  to annul the charter it had cost
them so much trouble to obtain, the barons threw off their
blind submission equally to John and Rome, and conveyed
an offer of the crown of England (guarded by the covenants
they had imposed upon its unworthy wearer) to Louis, the
son of the French king. The ground on which they placed
the offer, was the tyrant's originally defective title to the
throne, his nephew Arthur being alive; his murder of that
unhappy prince, and many other crimes. They then maintained that failing him by death or deposition, Louis., in right
of his wife, Blanche of Castile, was the legitimate successor
to Henry and Richard. It did not much matter whether
these pretexts were correct or not. The law, indeed, was so
clearly against Louis, that Philip Augustus declined to give
him any open assistance in his recovery of England,-by this
skilful abstinence from action disarming the national jealousy




A. D. 1216.]       DEATH OF JOHN.                   69
-and Louis crossed over with some armed attendants in the
spring of 1216, and threw'himself on the outraged barons.
not as invader or conqueror, but as the rightful heir. His
best ally in this enterprise was the unpopularity of his rival.
He might have succeeded if he had been opposed by the
craven and assassin who dishonoured the name of man and
the dignity of king; but the sword which might have cut its
way through living enemies, fell blunted upon a coffin. John
died in the same year, and the hopes of the foreign candidate
expired. The English heart softened to the English king, a
boy of ten years old, and Henry the Third became the rallying-cry of all parties in the State. Louis's army was defeated
near Lincoln, and his fleet near Dover. No fresh adherents
came to his standard, and he resolved to retire.  Not like a
defeated enemy, nor like a lawless freebooter, did the noble
Louis conduct his retreat.  He made terms for his supporters;
they were to be maintained in their houses and estates. He
bound his adversaries to respect the privileges of London and
the other burghs, and stipulated for the mutual interchange
of prisoners without ransom. He made no complaint of disappointment, or of the expenses to which he had been put,
but behaved in all things like a true and loyal cavalier; and
gained more fame by his defeat than many would have
gathered from success.
But the reign of Philip Augustus was drawing to a close.
He had made great changes in France, and converted the
separate interests of the feudal nobles into a confederation
of powers strictly subordinate to the Crown. A tumultuous
republic of knights and barons had become a well-balanced
kingdom, with local privileges and a centralised authority.
The Church, satisfied with its progress, and now relying on
law for its support in crushing its adversaries, had imbibed a
monarchical spirit not known in the days of its early struggles
in defence of the helpless people. The Communes were rich
and flourishing, and had made their voice already potential
in the State, by holding the purse, and even by keeping menat-arms in their pay.  The great mass of the population




70         LOUIS THE EIGHTH A PERSECUTOR. [A. D. 1226
were in easier circumstances than before, and not so entirely
exposed to the oppressions of their local tyrants. Learned
men, even from the lower class of the laity, were admitted
into the national councils, and administered justice in the
king's name. The nearest approach to the polity of a modern State was made by this wise and unscrupulous ruler.
But when he died in 1223, and left the throne to Louis the
Eighth, who was absorbed, during the three years of his
reign, in fatal enmities with those who might have become
his affectionate subjects, if he had not warred with them as
heretics-there was a pause in the onward progress of the
land.  Besieging towns in Provence, torturing the affrighted
inhabitants in the name of God and the Church, was an unworthy employment for the husband of Blanche of Castile,
and the father of Louis the Ninth. Hie died in 1226, of a
fever caught at the siege of Avignon, and Christendom attained its highest moral elevation when it saw the proudest
of its thrones adorned and glorified by the best and purest
of its sons. Louis the Ninth would have been impossible at
any ofther period of history. His tenderness in the earlier
ages would have been weakness; his zeal in later ages would
have been fanaticism.  He appeared at the exact period
when justice, mercy, and truth, were recognised as kingly no
less than Christian virtues, and when hatred of dissent and
unreasoning submission to authority were proofs, not of a dull
and uninquiring spirit, but of a humble and contrite heart.
It is, therefore, only as a monarch of the thirteenth century
that this illustrious character deserves our unmixed approbation. Judged by our ideas, some of his actions would have
fitted him for Bedlam, and some for Tyburn; but, compared
to the rough and brutal natures by which he was surrounded
-the quarrelling, feeble, godless, superstitious barons of
France and monarchs of Europe-he is an apparition of
meekness, and faith, and purity, to which the heart turns
with honest delight.  Between the death of his father and
the attainment of his majority, his admirable mother was
virtually regent of the kingdom in his name.  Strange that




A. D. 1229.] TOWNS RALLY ROUND THE CROWN.           71
the French, with the strictest law of exclusion of females
from the throne, have been oftener than any other people under
the governance of women.  The Salic law might have been
safely abrogated in honour of such a ruler as Blanche of Castile. Already the strong hand of Philip Augustus began to
be forgotten by fiery baron and ambitious great vassal, who
prepared for a resumption of independence. But new powers
had arisen in the State, which bore a very keen memory of
the blessings of Philip Augustus's reign. The towns gathered round the Regent in her struggle with the Dukes of
Boulogne and Brittany, the Counts of La Mlarche and Poitou, and far in the south, the open enemy of Christ and the
king, the heretical Raymond of Toulouse. The malcontent
nobles assembled their power. They tried to intercept the
queen and her son in their progress to Paris, and forced them
to take shelter in Mlontlhery.  The alarm-bell was rung in
the city. Burgher, and knight, and gallant volunteer, armed
in all haste, and set off for the rescue. They dispersed the
followers of the discontented barons, and escorted the royal
party into the town. Not till they saw them  safe in the
palace did the triumphant citizens lay by their swords.
This junction of crown and people was of evil augury to the
feudal lord, if he could have foreseen how fatal it would be
to his class. Of evil augury to the people, if it could have
been foreseen how fatal the destruction of a nobility is at all
times to the liberties of a nation. A woman of thirty-ei~ght,
and a boy of eleven, were tempting adversaries, even when
supported by the trainbands of a town. Some of the lords
refused their homage, others disobeyed the orders of the
Regent, and it was necessary to show rigour as well as wisdom. The qlueen besieged the fortresses of Brittany; detached the Duke of Champagne from the rebel cause; won
over De Burgh, the minister of the English king, Henry the
Third; and finally scattered their whole forces in the year
1229, when they were engaged in the siege of Troyes. A
woman was not henceforth to be utterly despised. Mlany of
them made their peace, and among them no less a person




712     MARRIAGE OF RAYMOND'S DAUGHTER. [A. D. 1236.
than Raymond, the Seventh of Toulouse, heretic, warrior,
poet, and now curtailed of all his powers, and ousted of all
his lands. He came to petition the King of France at
Maeaux. He did penance, scourge in hand, and barefooted,
at the porch of N6tre Dame, for the support he had given to
the enemies of the Faith. And now came the fruit of the
policy of Philip Augustus. The whole shore of the 3Mediterranean, from Maguelonne to the county of Barcelona, was
attached to the Crown, at the expense of the luckless Troubadour.  France became a maritime power on three seas,
and could send fleets from the Seine, and the Loire, and the
Narbonnaise.
It was now time to provide the youthful monarch with a
wife, and his mother cast her eye on one of the four daughters of Raymond Berenger, Count of Provence. The eldest
was but twelve years old; but her states, if she should be
appointed heiress, were of inestimable value to France, and
the marriage took place in 1234. Henry the Third of England had the same idea of the value of the succession of the
dying Raymond, and in 1236 married the second daughter
Eleanor, and, by way of keeping so good a chance in the
family, obtained the third daughter for his brother Richard
of Cornwall. Two kings and a royal duke for sons-in-law
seemed sufficient honour for a vassal, however powerful; but
Raymond, considering that his elder children were now provided for, constituted his youngest and sole unmarried one
heiress of all his estates. All the marriageable princes and
potentates were immediately on the alert.  She was still,
however, too young to be married, and Louis awaited his opportunity, and employed himself in the mean time in extinguishing the last spark of opposition. to his royal supremacy.
By courage in the field he subdued the refractory Count of
La Marche, and the again recalcitrant Raymond of Toulouse;
and gained over to himself peasantry, and knight, and churchman, and, finally, the rebellious nobles themselves, by a tenderness and generosity very unusual at any age of the world,
and at that period totally unexampled and unknown.  When




A. D. 1248.]   THE SEVENTH CRUSADE.                 73
the time came, and Beatrice the heiress of Provence was of a
marriageable age, there were suitors as numerous as those of
Penelope besieging her in her house. Raymond of Toulouse,
pouring out the burdens of love and compliment, and Pedro,
the Prince of Aragon, relying on his rank, were the chief.
But if Raymond got possession of Provence, he would be
powerful enough to recover his former territories in Languedoc; if Pedro obtained her, they would make the Spanish possessions in France too dangerous for its peace. So
Louis, who fortunately possessed a brother of five-and-twenty
years of age, and still unmarried, proposed him to the states
of Provence as a fitting husband for their lady; but scarcely
waiting for her answer, which, however, was in the affirmative, he despatched the youthful wooer with an escort of fire
hundred sharp-sworded cavaliers, who made very short work
with the rival candidates.  Raymond and Pedro escaped
from this formidable bridegroom with the utmost speed, and
Charles of Anjou carried off the prize. lie married the heiress in 1246, and secured her noble heritage from going into
hostile hands.
Louis, it will be seen, did not consider earthly policy inconsistent with the highest duties of his religion. Above all
things he was a Christian, next he was a King, and next he
was a Frenchman. Never for a moment were these three
characters absent from his thoughts.  God, the crown, and
the people, might have been embroidered on his banners, as
they certainly were united in his prayers. He thought it was
the highest offering he could make to all the three, when, in
1248, he prepared himself for a crusade. It was the seventh
which had exhausted the nobility of Europe, and given an
impulse to knowledge and trade. Already it was believed
that success must attend the efforts of so intrepid a warrior
and holy a pilgrim, and a great multitude of all classes of the
people gathered to his command. His wife could not be
persuaded to remain behind. His three brothers and the
Count of Flanders, and many who might have been dangerous if left to cabal during his absence, were companions of




74                RETURN OF LOUIS.           [A. D. 1254.
the expedition, which this time was directed to Egypt, where
the Saracen power had achieved new triumphs. A sad and
painful story, but not without a parallel in former times, is
the pilgrimage of 1248. There was a great deal of courage
displayed, and little generalship. At the siege of Damietta,
and battle of Massoura, the king was the most prominent of
the combatants. But combats are of no use without a good
commissariat. The bravest of men could do nothing when
provisions were not to be had; when the diseases of the
country came upon them, and the Nile began to rise. Louis
and his surviving brothers, and half the nobles of his train,
weakened by want and illness, were surprised and taken near
the Thanis on their retreat to Damietta. On payment of a
reasonable ransom the massacre was stopped; and by a
farther treaty, the king bound himself not to bear arms
against the Moslem. for ten years. But nothing quelled the
devoted spirit of the crusader. As he could no longer fight
the enemy, he spent four years in the East, strengthening
the positions held by the Christians, and alleviating with
money and personal care the misfortunes of his countrymen.
At the end of that time Blanche of Castile, whom he had
left Regent in his absence, died; and the presence of the
king was imperatively demanded by his States. Failure and
disappointment could not blind the nations of Europe to the
virtues and merits of the French king. He was received as a
Christian hero, if not a conquering monarch, in the good city
of Paris. Henry the Third of England came over to congratulate him on his return; and in the old palace on the
Island in the Seine, that day, there met the basest and the
best of kings-for baseness was the atmosphere in which
Henry lived. Unable to understand the solemnity of an oath
or the obligation of a promise, he must have looked on the
brave knight and truthful gentleman beside him as a creature
of another species; very likely with contempt, for he knew
that the man had scruples of conscience; that he had actually
resigned some possessions of his predecessors which he did not
think honestly acquired; and even now offered to submit his




A. D. 1262.]      ENGLISH FR EEDOM,                  7 
title to the ancient French territories of the English Crown
to an impartial court. A treaty was soon after concluded
between the kings. Louis restored the Limousin, Perigord,
Guienne, and other places, to Henry; and Henry resigned
all claim to the States of Normandy, Anjou, ~Maine, Poitou,
and Touraine.
A wise regulation of the French king, founded avowedly
on the text that no man can serve two masters, had disquali;
fied the feudal landlords from holding property under different
crowns. They were delivered from the dangerous claims of a
double allegiance by the choice which was given them of
which suzerain they would serve.  This was the severest
blow that could be inflicted on the English interests in
France.  Henceforth the French king was a foreigner to the
English nobles, and the acquisition of French estates an impossibility, unless at the expense of their English lands. A
closer connection at once began between the nobility and
commons in this country, when they were thus for ever condemlned to inhabit the same soil and submit to the same laws.
It was in 1262 that Simon de 3Montfort, who had acquired
the earldom of Leicester, and by the above-named regulation of Louis had lost his great holdings in the south of
France, summoned for the first time the representatives of
towns and boroughs to aid the deliberations of parliament.
He was in rebellion against the imbecile and faithless Henry,
and required the support of public favour.  The barons who
defended the crown, he felt, were nearly a match for his adherents, but the accession of the citizens turned the scale.
From that time a community of interests has been established between the different classes in this country; and a
balance never for a moment lost sight of between the liberality
of the people in voting supplies, and the wisdom of the rulers
in the granting of privileges. The English representatives
seldom voted a subsidy without bargaining for a right. We
seem, indeed, to have been a nation of shopkeepers from the
beginning, and never to have given anything without an
equivalent. If this foundation of our freedom is not very




76              FRENCH PARLIAMENTS.          [A. D. 1262
dignified, it is at all events very secure. It lasts, in fact, unimpaired to the present time, and shows how broad and deep
it was settled in the soil, compared to the more showy, but
unsubstantial, fabric furnished by the Establishments of Saint
Louis. This is the first time we have given him the appellation of saint, and we dwell upon it here to say that the papal
canonisation was never bestowed upon a worthier name.
While England was convulsed with civil conflict, and
Germany was distracted by quarrels between the Empire and
the Pope, and Spain was engaged in interminable hostilities
with her Moorish populations, the land of France lay in profound peace. The brother of the king, Charles of Anjou, had
passed onward to secure the throne of Naples, to which he
had been invited by the rebellious nobility and the Pope; the
other great holdings were in the hands of the princes of the
blood or the attached friends of the Crown; and Louis sat
under a tree, like the patriarchs of old, and distributed justice
to the poorest man in his realm. He established public Assemblies, which also bore the name of Parliaments, and
summoned wise counsellors, and men learned in the Roman
Institutes, to devise laws for the common good. At first
they assembled only at stated intervals, but he soon constituted them his permanent courts, and published the result
of their consultations as ordonnances of the Crown. ]No
power of the purse was given to these assemblies; but he
made them respected from one end of France to the other by
making them courts of appeal from  the judgment of the
feudal tribunals, and investing them with the dignity of a
Royal Council. The high-spirited baron, residing in thickwalled castle, and surrounded by armed retainers, was surprised to see his influence gradually gliding away from him
like the water of a retiring inundation; he heard the judgments and argumentations of an order of men he had never
seen before; he heard these new dispensers of the law declare
the trial by combat a barbarous injustice, and private war a
crime to be punished with death. He heard them talk of
words and things he could scarcely understand-custom.




A. D. 1262.]      ACTIONS OF LOUIS.                 77
right, precedent, principle, pandects, rescripts, and other
phrases, and felt that a new power had come into the world
And truly it was a new power before which he and his steelclad brethren were forced to bow; for whether Louis meant
it as a blow to feudalism or not, its effect was fatal to that
institution. The baron was unseated from his chair of state
in the great hall where he gave a rude justice to his followers,
and Legalism took his place. Whether the change was for
the best or not it is difficult to say, for Europe is only now endeavouring to cast off the technicalities with which those
ancient masters thought they were protecting the weak
against the strong, but which turned out to be an intolerable
burden by which justice itself was oppressed.
Reconciling all classes to his rule-the baron by his
courage, the priest by his religion, the peasant by his justice-Louis found himself in a position to stretch the royal
authority beyond its previous bounds. He restrained the
rights and privileges of the highest nobility, and made his
coin and his laws current in all the states. Many cases of
crime and misdemeanour were reserved exclusively for the
royal court; and, as if to show that he was governor of all
conditions of men within the realm, he interdicted various
assumptions of the Pope, and protected the Church from the
arbitrary impositions of its spiritual chief. His one dominant
idea was the supremacy of the Crown. What the ambition
and cunning of Philip Augustus had commenced, the gentleness and wisdom of his grandson enabled him to achieve.
Piety was more successful than force. France became consolidated into a powerful undivided monarchy, under a ruler
who avowedly held all worldly distinctions vain. Nobody
could resist the claims which, coming from Louis, were certain to be thought founded on higher motives than his own
advantage. All men relied on the well-proved character of
the heavenly-minded King: the baron on his justice, the
Church on his faith, the people on his kindness. Even what
we consider blots upon his fame were elements of his influence at the time. No fanatic in the darkest ages had evei




78          THE EIGHTH AND LAST CRUSADE.  [A. D. 1270.
attributed such sanctity to relics and outward forms. Barefooted and bareheaded, he walked in solemn procession from
Vincennes to Paris, carrying a portion of the Crown of Thorns,
which had been sent him by the Emperor Baldwin, and deposited it in the gorgeous Sainte Chapelle, which he built for
its reception. Jew and heretic were never exposed to such
enmity or merciless persecution as by this model of a Christian king. No monk was ever more ignobly under the dominion of a morbid delicacy, or forswore with more unnatural
abnegation the " sweet domestic charities of life."  Yet this
extreme zeal, and self-denying abstinence from the pleasures
and duties of his condition as husband and father, were only
additional claims to the admiration of his contemporaries.  If
we can look -upon those portions of his behaviour with the
same eyes, we shall see before us the most perfect of rulers
and most innocent of men. We shall see that the feudal
period has achieved its consummation, when a saint, girt with
a sword and looking to the cross, is seated on a throne.
Knighthood has nothing farther to hope for. It has given a
king to the greatest of Christian nations, and a saint to the
Christian Church. It was now going to give a victim to
chivalry and Christianity at once; for Louis, in 1270, prepared for his last pilgrimage.  Hatred to the Moslem had
now extended, from the custodiers of Jerusalem and the warriors of Svria, to the whole Mohammedan race. Wherever
they were to be found was the proper end of a crusade. As
on a former occasion he had been diverted from the Holy
Land to Egypt, he was now attracted to the shores of Africa
by a report of the wealth and insolence of the Soldan of
Tunis. Charles of Anjou, the brother of the King, whom
we saw the successful wooer of the heiress of Provence, had
by this titme forced his way into Italy, and mounted the
throne of Sicily. The expedition to Africa is said to have
been at his suggestion; but whether with a view to his personal interest, in the weakening of a power so near to his new
dominicns, or for some other reason, cannot now be discovered;
whatever was the cause, the voyage was speedily acconm



A.. 1270.]        DEATH OF LOUIS.                    79
plished, a landing effected near the ruins of Carthage, and the
half-crumbling walls taken by assault. It was in the month
of July, and the desert was glaring all round the soldiers
with inextinguishable heat. The sands were driven against
them by the simoon, like little balls of fire; the water was
dried up, and fever began its course. It struck down the
heads of the expedition.  Philip of France was ill; the
Counts of La Marche and Vendclme, and Montmorency, had
died. Funerals every hour frightened the camp froml its
calmness. The vast array of the Tunisians came in sight,
and no reinforcements from Naples. Active, truthful, vigilant, the King performed the duties of warrior and priest.
He roused his soldiers with spirited exhortations, and prayed
with the dying. At last the blow fell upon himself. -He
struggled for a few days, continuing to the last the same
noble cavalier and Christian believer he had ever been. WVith
his last breath he dictated advice to his successor on the
throne, and gave directions to restrain the excesses of his
brother of Anjou.  When that dilatory brother made his appearance in the port it was too late.  The good King had
died; and when the Sicilian ruler entered his tent, he found
the noblest of kings and of Frenchmen lying upon ashes,
with a crucifix on his breast.
" Who is the happy warrior? This is he
Whom every man in arms would wish to be."
There is a great resemblance between the characters of this
justly venerated king and his despised predecessor Louis the
Debonnaire. But what a cheering view it gives us of the
progress of right feeling, when we perceive the strange difference between the contemporary appreciation of the two! The
very names by which they are known are more a contrast
than a similarity; for Debonnaire, which, besides being weakly
pliant, contains the idea of a pious disposition at the same
time, is used as a term of reproach, and was chiefly earned
for the first Louis by the exercise of the same qualities which
obtained for Louis the Ninth the epithet of Saint.  In the ear



80               IMPROVED FEELING.           [A. D. 1270.
lier time, we saw how priest and noble were equally unable
to understand the workings of a conscience which scrupled to
l)e benefited by the injustice or violence of others. The Debonnaire was cast down from the throne he had degraded for
proposing to restore wealth and properties, which had been
wrongfully obtained, to their proper owners. The Saint was
raised above the throne he had glorified for actions and sentiments precisely of the same kind. The difference consisted
entirely in the better and purer intelligence of the time.
Too far removed from Roman civilization to have retained
any portion of the light radiated from that long-extinguished
centre, the period we have now reached begins to be illuminated by the dawn of the coming clay. Already we trace the
risings of many modern thoughts and usages; and from this
time we may look hopefully forward, for, however interrupted
by wars and policies our onward course may be, certain it is
that the light will daily increase; and when next we pause
to survey the country we have passed over, we shall find that
our progress has been as great as between the reigns of Louis
the Debonnaire and Louis the Saint, for we shall have a fresh
region added to our observation-the rise of a new and brilliant literature, and the first glorious appearance of science
and art.




CHAPTER   IV.
FROM PHIILIP THE IIARDY, A. D. 1271, TO CHARLES THE FIFTH, A. D. 1364.
WITH the death of St. Louis the crusading spirit came to anr
end. Calculations have been made by which it appears that
the eight expeditions against the Saracens, extending from
1095 to 1270, cost to Europe the lives of two millions of men.
It was now found that denuding Christendom of its soldiers
was not the surest means of weakening the Mohammedan
power; and from this time the energies of kings and peoples
were directed to the settlement of their national affairs. Sufficient had been done during the eight crusades, by giving a
common direction to the enterprise of many states, to spread
the same principles of action among them all. The gentlemen
of the most distantly situated kingdoms became acquainted
during their common triumphs or dangers, under the walls
of Jerusalem or Acre. A sort of freemasonry of knighthood
ran through all  lands. The Scottish cavalier interchanged
ideas and feelings of brotherhood and amity with a knight of
Sicily or Spain. But now this fraternity of nations, founded
on a community of hopes and fears, was to be exchanged for
quarrels among themselves. Yet the remembrance of the
league which once had bound them, acted as a civiliser between the warriors of all lands in their intercourse with each
other. The names of the early crusaders had now become
historic. Heraldry had established itself as the highest of
sciences, and the bearings on shields, and mottoes on pennons,
revealed to the hostile squadrons, when drawn up in battlearray, who their antagonists were. In the same way as mutual respect was thus establishedl among the knights and
6




82           EFFECTS OF THIE CRUSADES.    [A. D. 1270
nobles of different kingdoms, there was a. feeling of kindliness
produced between the knights and other classes of the same
realm. The destruction of so many followers had thinned out
the original vassals to such an extent that new possessors
arose in all quarters, men of the same blood with the peasantry around them —so that by this time the distinction between a conquering and a conquered race was becoming very
slight. The Norsemen in Normandy were now completely
French, and their countrymnen in England almost completely
English.  The Saracen sword had nearly undone the work of
Rollo and William; and the dullest spectator of the termination of those periodic paroxysms of heroic insanity must
have read in the accompaniments of this last attempt, that
the favour of Heaven was visibly withdrawn. Philip the
Third, the son of the sainted king, left the shores of Carthage
with five coffins in his train. A great storm near Sicily scattered and sunk the largest part of his fleet, and when the
melancholy cortege at last reached the mainland, the population of France was awestruck at the greatness of their loss.
They received in the same mournful silence the living king
and the corpses of his father, his queen and infant son, his
brother, and his brother-in-lawv the king of Navarre.
Charles of Anjou had a more wretched struggle before
him, and atoned, by his misery and disappointment, for his
cruelty and want of faith. Five years before this, in 1265,
he had established his power in Naples under the protection
of the Pope, who desired a counterpoise in Italy to the preponderance of the German Emperors of the Hohenstaufen
family. The last Emperor, Frederick the Second, had left a
natural son of the name of Manfred, and a grandson, Conradin.
lManfrecl resisted the French intruder, and was conquered and
killed in a great battle at Grandella. Charles made his triumphant entry into Naples, where he soon inaugurated his
reign with the bloody execution of the youthful and innocent
Conradin. The guiltlessness and beauty of the highest born
of the chivalry of Europe clung long to the affectionate and
revengeful hearts of the Neapolitan people; and the animosity




A. D. 1282.]      SICILIAN VESPERS.                 83
which the heedlessness and harshness of the French dominion
had sown among the Italians, broke forth in the ferocious
massacre of Palermo in 1282. It was on the 30th of Mlarch,
at the first sound of the vesper-bell, that the infuriated natives rose against their invaders.  Nobody was spared; man,
woman, and child, soldier and priest, all were stilettoed by
surprise or slaughtered by superior numbers. As the news
spread, the same tragedy was repeated in every town. And
when the morning of the first of April came, there was scarcely
a Frenchman alive in Sicily. This is known in history as the
Sicilian Vespers.
Charles hurried across and laid siege to Messina.  The
terrified townsmen were reduced to great straits, and had little
to expect from the forgiveness of the most unmerciful man of
his time, when, in the last extremity, they were astonished
with the sight of a great fleet sailing into their bay, bringing
help and safety, under the command of Peter the King of
Aragon, who had married the daughter of Manfred. Pope,
and kings, and princes, ranged themselves on different sides.
M.artin the Fourth, continuing true to the French, declared
Peter's throne of Aragon vacant, for rebellion against the Holy
See, and offered it to the King of France. Peter and Charles
were equally enraged, and agreed to solve their difference in
a combat of a hundred on each side, to meet at Bordeaux, in
the territory of Edward of England. When the appointed
clay came, the combatants, in fulfilment of the letter of their
agreement, presented themselves in the town named; one,
however, at early dawn, and the other in the afternoon.
Neither of them wished to fight, and both were obliged to
keep their knightly words, taking shelter from the laughter
of thle disappointed spectators in the plea that Edward gave
no safeguard for the meeting, and made no preparation for the
lists. Charles of Anjou died of wrath and disappointment.
The battle of Spanish and French interests which he had provoked, went on in the kingdom of Naples for two hundred
years; and it might give rise to some moralizing on the strange
turn of human affairs, when we find the descendants of St.




84              PHILIP THE HANDSOIME.        j. D.. 1286.
Louis seated on the thrones of both the subsidiary kingdoms,
while not one of his name or kindred is permitted to touch the
soil of France.
The exploits of Philip, called the Hardy-the origin of
which complimentary title it is difficult to trace-left no
mark in history. His foreign politics were obscure ancl various; and it can only be said for him that he had the good
taste to leave almost entirely unchanged the internal principles of government of his illustrious father.  The glory of
St. Louis shed a light upon the fifteen years of his son's reign,
and the impetus he had given kept France in forward movement without the interference of the King.  This impetus,
you will remember, was towards the centralisation of the royal
authority, and the elevation of the lower class.  Philip continuedcl his patronage of the legalists, and took refuge against
the occasional outbursts of his barons behind the decisions of
his lawyers.  But now there appeared upon the throne of
France a man who united the rather incongruous characters of
a sharp practising attorney and a crowned king.  When
Philip, the eldest son of Philip the Hardy, made his first public appearance in the Church of Notre Dame du Puy, in the
Velay, he was only seventeen years of age. Tall and manly,
with fair complexion and fascinating manners, he was hailed
with universal acclaim as Philip le Bel, or the Handsome,
and it was not for some time that the nation began to perceive tha't the sword of France had been converted into a
quill, and the oriflamme itself changed into a vast roll of
sheepskin written over with unintelligible words. Prepared
to fight, and always ready to quibble, the new leader of the
chivalry of Europe was a mixture of Brian de Bois-Guilbert
and Gilbert Glossin. Where he could not force, he swindled,
and hid all his tricks and manceuvres, and false claims and
arrogant pretensions, under the terrifying name of law. Foreign kings and domestic princes, and even popes themselves,
did not know what to do against a man who produced documents whenever they were required, and who brought wormeaten deeds out of old repositories nwhere they had quietly




D. D. 12S6.]         HIS POLICY.                     85
been gathering the dust of two or three hundred years.  The
law phraseology, which is at all times liable to several interpretations, and the fulsome adulation derived from the practice of the Roman Empire, by which the -most unbounded
powers are attributed to the Crown, were made excellent use
of by the successor of Clovis and Pepin. If by any deed a
privilege was conveyed, and there was added the usual clause,
" saving nevertheless the rights of our lord the king," it was
very soon found that the rights of our lord the king were totally inconsistent with the privilege, and it was accordingly
withdrawn.  There were covenants, we saw, in the mutual
obligation of suzerain and vassal, a breach of which was fatal
to the tenure of the liegeman.  It was easy, by some
musty old record or chronicle in an abbey, to prove that
every covenant on both sides had been broken a hundred
times; that the lord had not defended the tenant, that the
tenant had opposed the lord. Out came the dignitaries of
the law with a sentence of deprivation, and a royal garrison
was speedily established in the baron's tower. It was the
King's policy above all things to abolish the municipalities,
fbr those establishments were centres of strength and fireedom,
and might b)e rallying places for resistance to his despotic attempts.  Now  these municipalities are called in French
C communes," because they were formed for the purpose of
common defence, and were combined by the use of a common
seal and government of their own. In the south of France,
we observed, the grand old cities of the Roman time retained
more or less the municipal privileges granted them by the
policy of the Emperors. In proud memorial of the past, they
had bestowed on their civic rulers the majestic title of consul.
In the north, when some community of feeling with these ancient " boroughs " had been established by intercourse and
trade, the citizen, the shopkeeper and labourer, who had settled themselves in the neighbourhood of some  chieftain's
tower, and who now were oppressed and trampled on by the
successor of their original lord, sighed for some refuge against
his lawless authority, and applied sometimes to the king,




86                    CHARTERS                [A. D. 1286
sometimes to a neighbouring baron, for a place of shelter on
his domain.  The king gratified a town, especially if it happenecl to be on one of his vassal's lands, with a charter of incorporation, granting it the feudal indispensable signs of independence, " bailliage,"  " common seal," " town clock,"' bell and belfry," and did not scruple, on receiving a bribe
in money, to give the same privileges to a third-rate town or
inconsiderable village on his own territory.  Where there was
no means on the part of the citizens to assert their liberties
by force of arms, the kings granted them whatever nominal
franchise they desired at its proper price. An ambitious or
compassionate baron in the same way received the prayer of
the persecuted dependants of a neighbouring chief, and set
apart a small portion of his land, enclosing it with a wall,
and giving it the guarantee of his sword and influence against
all who should infringe his charter. Nay, we sometimes read
of a count or earl, in answer to an appeal from a municipality
to defend it against the assaults of the king himself, inviting
the inhabitants to remove into his peculiar territory, and once
off the soil of the royal domain, he will defend them, their
charter, their bells and belfry, against the army of the Crown.
And this was the feeling which alarmed the legal mind of
Philip le Bel. Many of these institutions had secured to themselves the protection of powerful chiefs, by the grant of handsome salaries.  The castle which had been built to overawe the
unruly townsmen, was now their fortress against all comers.
The lord of it was in their pay, and they themselves could
buckle on their armour on occasion, and play no inconsiderable part in the defence of their goods and families. If the
municipalities kept alive a spirit of liberty and equality, and
were protected in these pretensions by any number of the
nobility, the king -perceived _that: the scheme of a true and
unlimited monarchy could never be brought to bear.  But
there was another body in the State who stood equally in the
gap against the overweening attempts of the Crown.  This
was the Church, which, starting so humbly, as we saw it under the blessing of Irent lus, and forming a bond between




A. D. 1286.]    GRANTED BY TIHE CHURCH.                87
conqueror and conquered, which improved the condition of
both, had by this time lost all remembrance of its original institution.  Though many of the historians of this period are
priests, and inclined to take a partial view of the interests of
their order, it is easy to see that the Christian, or even the
ecclesiastical character, had almost entirely departed from the
higher dignitaries, while ignorance and evil living were the
characteristics of the inferior clergy.  A bishop in early times
availed himself of the sacredness of his profession to calm the
troubles of a town, which was exposed to the violence of a
Gothic or Frankish assault.  The civil governor had deserted
his post, and by the force of circumstances, the man who possessed the greatest personal authority succeeded to the direction of the community.  In quieter periods the bishop succeeded in retaining, as inherent in his office, the power which
he had so auspiciously usurped.  The great prelates of the
realm, therefore, exercised as plenary powers in the formation
of communes, and the protection of their tenants, as the
proudest of the lay nobility.  Many towns owed their charters
of incorporation to their clerical lord.  Many communities
fled from the persecution of their feudal superiors, to the
milder sway of the magnates of the Church; so that when
Philip the Handsome looked around, he saw those citadels of
freedom dotted over all parts of his kingdom, some under the
protection of his barons, and some under the safeguard of his
bishops.  The Church, moreover, could wield a two-edged
sword in her combat with the King.  At the same time that
the highest of the clergy strengthened themselves by the adhesion of populous towns, the serf or injured labourer found a
sure refuge for his weakness or wrongs by enrolling himself a.
priest. Once in holy orders, the stain of his lowly origin.
clung to him no more.  Church and State seemed in this
manner equally prepared against the aggressions of the King.
The high nobility had not forgotten their old claims of equality; and now were encouraged to exercise a more independent authority, by the fact that the inhabitants of their lands,,
who were rapidly increasing in wealth, had in many instances,




88                STATE OF PARTIES.          [A. D. 1286
already commuted their personal service for a pecuniary payment. They were now masters of fixed revenues, and could
raise mercenaries for their permanent service, who were exempt from the obligation of feudal obedience. The hierarchy
limited the sovereign's power by their ecclesiastical privileges,
and their allegiance to a foreign and permanent authoritythe Pope; the lower priesthood took the peasantry from his
direct rule, by admission into their ranks. The rising middle
class of the towns took care of their interests, by the establishment of communes. Nor were these called citadels of freedom by a mere figure of speech. They were guarded by actual square towers, and vast castles, which, before the invention of gunpowder, resisted all assaults.  It is difficult to
give an idea of the number of those edifices, unless by asking
you to ornament with turret and bartisan all the gentlemen's
houses you see in a railway excursion, —where gentle lawns
sloping downward from the door must be converted into a
foreyard, crossed by a drawbridge, and enclosed within high
walls. The plate-glass windows also, and nice conservatories
at the side of the drawing-room, must be exchanged for narrow arrow holes in the thickness of the masonry, and a dark
stable leaning against the donjon keep. A survey was made
a few months ago of the ancient Chateaux of France. There
remained twenty thousand three hundred and twelve, and of
these there were no less than three hundred and eleven which
had seen the reign of Philip le Bel. How many seats are there
in England which claim such antiquity as this?  Nlot Windsor
itself, nor Chatsworth, nor Warwick. And if, after the wear
and tear of five hundred and fifty years, three hundred and
eleven are still standing, we must make allowance for the
crowds of them which have disappeared, and wonder at the audacity of the man of legality and special pleading, who threw
down the gauntlet to so many burgesses stout and strong, so many wielders of the sword, and so many leaders of the Church.
Edward the First was at this time King of England, and
was deeply engaged in his schemes for the subjugation of
Scotland and Wales. A quarrel very soon arose between




a. ). 1294.]  WAR WITI1 EDWARD TIn  FIRST.          89
the kings, and it gives us a proof of the complete separation
between the Norman duchy and the English crown, that the
war was caused by a riotous scuffle between some English and
Norman sailors. Philip demanded justice on the culprits, and
Edward declined to take any steps. Philip then summoned
Edward to appear before his court as feudatory of Guienne, and
ailswer for his conduct in person. Edward was too busy setting
up John Baliol, and oppressing the Scotch nobility, to prepare
for the next step of his rival. Guienne was seized with little
remonstrance on the part of the native barons, and annexed
to the French crown. At the same time, Philip arrested
Guy, Count of Flanders, as aiding and abetting his rebellious
vassal, and terrified or cajoled the King of Aragon into a
surrender of the island of Sicily, in which he did not possess
an acre of ground, to the Duke of Anjou. This surrender,
though not supported by force of arms, was a weapon in the
armoury of the politic king, which he was ready at any time
to bring forth, if the princes of Italy gave him any umbrage.
His possession of Guienne was more practically useful, as it
enabled him, in 1296, to detach the powerful Edward fromn
the party of his enemies, by making restitution of the duchy
as dowry of his daughter Isabella, whom  he betrothed to
Prince Edward, afterwards Edward the Second. But even
this restitution was under more stringent conditions of fealty
and submission than pleased the English king. That potentate, who had dated his charters and coins, in the county of
Guienne, from the year of his own reign in England, was now
obliged to date them from the accession of Philip.
On taking note of his forces in the year 1299, the French
monarch had no reason to be discontented with the state of
his affairs. He had silenced England, reunited Champagne
to the throne by his marriage with the heiress of that duchy,
and gained possession of Flanders by a mere breach of his
word. A legal quibble was more agreeable to him than a
campaign.  His brother, Charles of Valois, had agreed on
terms with the Count of Flanders, and advised him to wait
upon the king. The king was delighted to see him in his




90            QUARREL WITH THE POPE.    [A. D. 1300
power, declined altogether to ratify the conditions of his surrender, and threw him and his two sons into prison.  Charles
of Valois, not being of so legal a mind as his brother, was
insulted by the discovery of a flaw in his contract with the
noble captives, and retired from court. The Pope, who began
to hate and fear the French king, rewarded his brother's enmity with the crown of Constantinople; and, as a farther proof
of affection, made him Apostolic Vicar of the whole of Italy.
Philip had already a bitter feeling towards the imperious
Boniface the Eighth.  A  papal aggression on his royal
authority, by the erection of the bishopric of Pamiers without
his consent, had roused his wrath some years before this date.
He had retorted by receiving at his court the Colonnas whom
the Pope had banished from Rome. The Pope retorted
again, by sending a certain Bernard Saissetti, who was no
other than the intrusive Bishop of Pamiers, to rebuke the
king for his manifold offences against the Holy See, particularly for continuing to raise a tax from the clergy, on pretence of fitting out a new  crusade to the Holy Land;
whereas it was well known that neither he nor Edward of
England had the remotest idea of going to the East. The
king's retort upon this was an order to let no money leave
the realmy of France, whether for Rome or elsewhere, upon
pain of death for treason. The bishop, as a parting blow,
had accused the king of being a forger, or at least a passer of
base money, which, though perfectly true, was not complimentary, and ordered him to release the Princes of Flanders,
whom lie had imprisoned without any cause; and the king,
not knowing how else to retort, sent down a body of bailiffs
to the town of Pamiers, who arrested the bishop in his bed,
and brought him in safe custody to Paris.  Boniface was not
to be excelled in violence, and gave his final retort on this
part of the question, by summoning the whole clergy of
France to meet at Rome, and to consult on the defence of
their ecclesiastical privileges, and the best method of curbing
the excesses of the king. Philip took higher ground. He
told the audacious pontiff that there were kings in France




A. D. 1302.]   CAMPAIGN IN FLANDERS.                 91
before there were bishops, and he would rule within his realm
in total disregard of what such a blinded, fraudulent, simoniacal pretender could say. He appealed to the College of
Cardinals to proceed to a new election, and guarded himself
in the mean time by summoning a great Council in Paris,
to which came, for the first time, the third order in the State,
equivalent almost to our members for the boroughs.  The
order for all the French clergy to appear at Rome roused the
wrath of the assembly. They resolved unanimously to support the king in maintaining the privileges of the Crown;
and as the first proof of national independence, the quick eyes
of Philip having detected the departure of forty-five bishops
who preferred the Pope's commands to the KIing's, all their
goods and chattels were confiscated, without a moment's
delay, to the public exchequer.
War was now openly declared between the King and the
Church. In this he was supported by the representatives of
the towns and the great mass of the nobility. But he was
now resolved, whenever the opportunity arose, to try conclusions with the towns themselves; and, as a preparatory
measure, determined to curb the liberal tendencies, and
diminish the overgrown riches of the burghers of Flanders.
During his first royal progress, the wealth of the Flemish
merchants had struck him  with surprise, if with no more
dangerous feeling; the pride of the queen also was offended
beyond forgiveness by the magnificence of the attire in which
she was received by the citizens' wives. "c There are five
hundred queens here, I think," she said, and looked with
covetous eyes on the masterpieces of the looms of Ghent and
Bruges. French governors and soldiers, left as garrisons in
the great manufacturing towns, had vied with each other in
oppressing the inhabitants.  Royal taxes, local rates, forced
contributions, and, above all, the tampering with the coinage,
had irritated the citizens past endurance. At last they burst
forth in open rebellion, overpowered the foreign troops, and
at Bruges gave way to the utmost excesses of popular
vengeance.  Never was such an opening for revenge and




92             BATTLE OF THE SPURS.           A. D. 1302
plunder presented to a Christian king. Philip raised. an army,
and sent all his knights and nobles to chastise the insolent
workmen, and pillage the magnificent shops. At Courtrai
they were met by a phalanx of armed burghers, vwho blocked~
up their further course.  With shouts of contempt and hatred,
the nobles put spurs to their steeds.  But there was a ditch
in the way; confusion fell upon their ranks; the stout
weavers plied their staves, which were tipped with iron, and
bore the very inappropriate name of " good day;" and in a
bruised mass of flesh and armour, the bodies of horse and
gentlemen covered all the plain. This is called the battle of
the Spurs, on account of the four thousand pairs of those
knightly ornaments which were gathered after the fight; and
it is not impossible that Philip, who meditated a diminution
in the privileges of his nobility, derived some little compensation for his national defeat, in considering the advantage so
many deaths would give him in his contest with the survivors.
Without loss of time he raised another force, consisting of the
Ban and Arriere Ban of the kingdom; and it is a circumstance worthy of notice, that while the horsemen of this
array amounted to twelve thousand, the infantry reached the
number of forty thousand men. The usual proportion between
horse and foot was entirely changed, and the result justified
the measure, for the Flemings were now entirely defeated, and
left thirty thousand dead upon the field. But what were the
foot-soldiers of all France to the countless artisans of the Low
Countries?  Undismayed by their misfortune, the gallant
townsfolk gathered fresh levies, and presented themselves
wherever the army moved. Philip was amazed. " Does it
rain Flemings?" he said; and when they had collected an
overwhelming force, they sent over a messenger with the two
words, " Battle or Peace?"  The king chose the latter. He
sent back his prisoner, Robert, the son of their legitimate
ruler; and reserving to himself a few border towns, and a
subsidy of a hundred thousand francs, he returned to resume
his contest with his greatest enemy, the Pope.  It would
have been wiser to have shown a little more mnoderation in his




A. D. 1303.]     DEATH OF BONIFACE.                 93
transactions with that misguidecl and untamable old man.
When an interdict was launched against the king and kingdom-which, however, had entirely lost its effect-and accusations were denounced by the barons of France against the
Sovereign Pontiff, Philip despatched a trusty officer apparently to lodge an appeal in his name, but with orders to
arrest his enemy wherever he might be found, and to bring
him prisoner to Paris. This man was William de Nogaret,
one of the legal functionaries on whom the king relied for the
execution of his plans-a man who, in the dark robe of his
profession, and with the bonnet of the law upon his head,
exercised more real authority than any one in the kingdom.
But the long-winded sentences of William de Nogaret, who
rose, by dint of prolixity and shrewdness, to be Chancellor of
France, would not be sufficient to impress the hostile ear of
Boniface the Eighth. A man of the sword also was requiredl,
and the person chosen was Schiarra Colonna, whose brothers
the Pope had banished, and heaped their estates on his
nephews —whose family he had vowed to exterminate, and
declared incapable of any office, civil or ecclesiastical, in all
time to come. Colonna was an ancient Roman in the vifour
of his hatred, and kept all these things rankling in his heart.
He found his victim in the small town of Anagui, and seized
him with unnecessary violence in the church.  Boniface, who
saw his fate in the cbuntenance of his enemy, resolved to die
with dignity, and, like the English a-Beckett, awaited the
final blow in the raiment of his rank. The brutal soldier
struck the old man with his iron gauntlet on the face, and
was proceeding to further extremities when the townsmen
rose; the assailants were speedily outnumbered and dispersed,
and Philip the Handsome had only the satisfaction of having
embittered an octogenarian's last days with personal humiliation, and sufferings beyond his strength to bear. He died in
a few weeks after the outrage, and the new pontiff inaugurated his reign by fulminating his sentence against the
persecutors of his predecessor. A contest with the Church
vwas not now what it had been in previous times. The clergy




94                  A FRENCH POPE.             [A. D. 1305,
had lost their influence with the increase of general knowledge, and consoled themselves with sensual indulgences for
the diminution of their spiritual power.  Their gluttony and
drunkenness were the subjects of every ballad, and their less
excusable vices were spoken of in harsher terms. They were
not in a position to give much moral assistance to their head
at Rome, and, in fact, were not inclined to do so, for the
exactions of the Pope were more intolerable than those of the
King. They preferred to pay subsidies, which were spent in
France, to sending half the revenues of their parishes and
free lands across the Alps. Philip was also encouraged by
the support of the third estate, the representatives of the
communes, and prepared for the coming storm. In answer
to the criminations and threats of Benedict the Eleventh, he
sent large sums for distribution among the Cardinals. There
was a French party established in the conclave itself, and the
King could look forward to the next vacancy of St. Peter's
chair as the crowning-point of his quarrel with the Holy See.
This vacancy occurred sooner than was expected. At stpper,
one night, the Pope was presented with a basket of figs by a
female closely wrapped in a veil, and was dead before the
morning   Philip saw his time.  He discovered the most
sensual, dissolute, and mean-spirited of the prelates of France,
in the person of Bernard de Got, the Archbishop of Bordeaux,
and receiving a promise of complete obedience to all his
orders, if he were elected Pope, sent off a command to the
servile conclave, and the obsequious pontiff kissed his hand,
and professed his eternal gratitude under the name of Clement
the Fifth.  The seat of the Christian government was transferred to France.  The pontiff was but the paid servant of
the Crown, and was used in the further schemes of the now
triumphant monarch, exactly as the other retainers of his
government were used.  Clement was a mere instrument in
his hand, like his chancellor, Peter Flotte, or his counsellor,
William de Nogaret.  To appoint a Pope was not enough, it
was necessary to degrade the office; for this purpose he insisted on a process being raised in the Papal Court, to blacken




A. D. 1305.]       THE TEMPLARS.                    95
the memory of Boniface the Eighth. Witnesses were found
who deposed to the most frightful crimes on the part of'
the victim  of Anagui, and even the soul of Clement the
Fifth began to recoil from the hateful work he had undertaken. He begged the king to desist from the prosecution;
and the king agreed, yet not without conditions. The Papacy
was at his feet; the Church, through its leader, was entirely
in his hands; but there was another body in the State whom
it was necessary to destroy. Would the Pope consent to his
instituting a process against the Templars —the guardians of
the Holy Sepulchre-the defenders of Jerusalem-the Christian warriors; uniting the nobility of the loftiest knighthood
to the personal humility of monks and friars? The bargain
was struck, and the king began. In one day all the brotherhood was arrested. They were accused of the most revolting
and impossible crimes; they were kept in clark dungeons,
and starved, till the bodily weakness affected the mental
poower, and then were tortured till they confessed whatever
WTilliam de Nogaret put into their mouths. When their
strength returned, they recanted their confessions, and were
instantly burnt as relapsed heretics. The process dragged
its slow length along; for the confiscation of their goods, and
the occupation of their castles and preceptories was a work of
time.  At last, when nothing more was left to be seized,
the final sentence was passed in a grand consistory presided
over by the Pope, where, in presence of the King and the
Princes, the men of law and the men of birth, the Order of
the Templars was declared abolished, and their possessions
conveyed to the Knights Hospitallers, on payment of' such
sums as might be claimed by the King. It is only fair to
say, that the example of Philip was followed in many othei
kingdoms, and the Order dissolved; a convincing proof of
the decay of the glory of knighthood, as the treatment of
the Pope had evidenced a decay of the influence of the
Church. In passive endurance all Europe saw the Fathei
of Christendom  transformed into a French judge, and the
abolition, on evidently false pretences, of the highest order of




96                   THEIR FATE.             [A. D, 1314
chivalry.  That the spectacle of degradation might be more
complete, Clement reserved to himself the trial of the Grand
Master, Jaques de Molay, and three commanders of the
Order. They were condemned to perpetual imprisonment;
but the courage of the old man revived. When brought out
to the front of N6tre Dame to hear the sentence read, he protested his innocence, and retracted the confession forced from
him and his two friends by the rack. Philip was close at
hand in the palace, on the island where the Hall of Justice
now stands. He heard of the retractation, and ordered the
faggots to be laid. He commanded them to be executed
without delay, as given over to the secular arm; and on
another little islet, where the statue of Henry the Fourth still
stands, to remind his countrymen of the most clement and
patriotic of their kings, Jaques de Molay and his noble companions went through the dreaclful ordeal, and died with the
firmness of martyrs.  It is said that from the midst of the
flames the old man summoned his persecutors to appear at
the bar of God within a year; but this report probably arose
when the deaths of both the wicked workers in this great
tragedy so soon followed their success; for Clement died in
April, and Philip in November of the year 1314. The supremacy of legalism was now fairly established over both the
sword and crozier. The third estate was admitted to a seat
and equal vote with the other orders in the realm. Parliamentary deliberations were regulated by the judges, and the
judges were appointed during pleasure by the king. If to
this we add, that in this reign an ordonnance was passed by
which a commoner, on purchasing a noble fief, became himself noble, and a title, with all its privileges, could also be
conveyed by the mere nomination of the king, we shall see
what powerful assaults were made on the sacredness of the
feudal nobility, and what an impulse was given to the
personal ambition and political power of the free burgesses
of France.
Philip the Fourth left three sons, who all successively
attained the throne: Louis the Tenth, called the " HIutin,"




A. D. 1316.] QUESTION OF FEMALE SUCCESSION.          97
or Quarrelsome; Philip the Fifth, or the Long; and Charles
the Fourth, who succeeded also to his father's epithet of the
Handsome.  He left also a daughter, Isabella, whom we saw
married to Edward the Second of England, and who was the
cause, perhaps, of more misery in both countries than any
woman who ever lived.  The fourteen years of the three
reigns of Philip the Handsome's sons were distinguished by
nothing but the discontent of the people at the amount of
taxation, and by the destruction of the royal family itself.
Louis held the throne for less than two years, and had only
time to take vengeance on his wife, Margaret of Burgundy,
grand-dauglter of St. Louis, for her life of infamy.  OShe was
strangled in the Chateau Gaillard.  His successor, Philip,
was no less unfortunate in the partner of his throne, Jane, a
daughter of the Count of.Burgundy, but, for political reasons,
was more merciful in his anger. He mounted a doubtful
throne on the death of his brother, for a party arose who defended the superior claims of the daughter of the late aing;
the question of the exclusion of females from the throne of
France never having practically been tried. In all other
holdings the female was as eligible as the male. Half the
provinces now attached to the Crown had come to it by marriage. At the coronation itself of the new king, his crown
was supported on his head by the hands of a Countess of
Artois, as one of the peers of France.  [But the men of legality came in, and decided that the customs of local tenures
had no relevancy in a discussion about the crown.  The King
of France was lord paramount over all the realm; ancd " the
kingdom could never fall to the distaff, though females were
capable of all other fiefs."
Already the collateral branches of the royal family, from.
which France has sufferedcl so much at various times, began:
their baneful influence, and  overshadowed  the  throne.
Charles of Valois, the son of Philip the Hardy, and uncle of
the King, exercised the chief influence in the State. He
oppressed the people with fresh burdens, and brought back:
the Jews, on pretence of toleration, for the purpose of pillag



98                     LEPROSY.              LA. D. 1321
ing them again. He carried forward, however, the plans of
the late king for the strengthening of the Crown, and exeluded the bishops from their seats in the parliament, on the
plea that " the King made conscience of detaining their lordships from the duties of their sees."  But, in spite of some
advances made in the formal elevation of the royal anuthority,
nothing could counterbalance the discontent created by the
exactions of the -Court and the divisions among the nobility.
Rebellious and mad processions of the irritated peasantry
took place in all parts of the country under the name of Pastorals. Armed with staves and stones, those infuriated sufferers professed to reform the State.  They were subdued
and exterminated with the hatred of fear. Leprosy, also,
the worst of woes with which humanity can be afflicted, had
been imported from the East.  It spread among the starved
and houseless masses with such rapidity that it was looked
on as a judgment on the land. No one was allowed to associate with the sufferers, unless at the price of sharing their
seclusion for ever. Wrapped in a thick veil, and ringing a
bell to warn passengers of their approach, they were only
admitted to the wider streets and open places of a town;
they must touch nothing, breathe on nothing, go near to
nothing which might be required for the use of man. A
prayer was read over them, and sentence of banishment for
ever from human society passed upon them. And all men
were liable to the visitation. Noble lords and gentle ladies
were not beyond reach of the fatal pest, and where all were
equally exposed, alarm was equally diffused. In the reign
of Philip the Long this terror reached its height.  Compassion, if it ever existed, gave way to hate. The lepers were
accusedl, along with the Jews, of poisoning wells and bewitching cattle. They were slain with pitiless sword, or starved to
death in their miserable dens, not by popular fury alone, but
by order of the King, and with the blessing of the Church.
Pope John the Twenty-second headed the good work, and
the clergy superintended the massacres. Meanwhile money
wyas required for the purposes of the State, and to satisfy the




A. D. 1322.1     CLAIMS OF ENGLAND.                  99
cupidity of the supporters of a still doubtful title.  Counties
were conveyed away from the Crown to raise the needfill
funds; and, as a last resource, Philip made freedom itself an
article of merchandise, and forced his serfs to buy their liberty with all the wealth they had saved. Vast numbers were
thus forcibly emancipated, and as a consequence, not expectecl by their lord, were compelled to assume the loftier aspirations befitting their new condition.
Charles the Fourth succeeded, on the death of Philip,
in 1322. He tried to put some restraint on the fanaticism
of the public against the Jews and lepers, and took both
under his protection.  The Jews were restricted to certain
portions of the towns they inhabited, and hospitals were
erected outside the city walls for the reception of the diseased. Those leproseries, as they were called, amounted to
several thousands before many years had elapsed; for we are
entering on a period of public misery and distress which was
very unfavourable for the cure of a distemper depending in a
great measure on filthiness of living and poorness of blood.
It is therefore scarcely too much to say, that the great support of leprosy in France was Edward the Third of England,
whose inroads began at this time. We are not to pay our
English kings so poor a compliment as to suppose they were
ignorant of the advantage of legality which they saw so flourishingly established by Philip the Handsome in their contests
with their nobility and people.  They were almost as much
alive to the power of " whereas " and " notwithstanding" as
the humbler practitioners of the noble science of the present
day; and though occasionally disconcerted by the unlegal
minds of certain barons, who pointed to their swords as the
title-deeds by which they held their lands, they pursued,
when they could, the same course of chicanery and pettifogging which gave such new dignity to the fleur-de-lis. - Edward
the Second, you remember, married Isabella, the daughter of
Philip the Handsome. In 1328 Charles the Fourth, the last
of her family, died without sons, and Philip the Sixth, the
son of that Charles of Valois who had [,e.n:.4t:e'ed!s jotic min



100              EDWARD THE TIHIRD.         [A. D. 1336
ister of the three unfortunate brothers, mounted the vacant
throne, as nearest male descendant of St. Louis. But the
right of female succession, though rejected by the decision of
the lawyers, was not by any means banished from the hearts
of ambitious pretenders.  And when kings were the clients in
such a cause, it was easy to find learned gentlemen on one
side of the Channel who replied to learned gentlemen on the
other. The English advisers took a distinction between the
direct accession of females and their power of transmitting
their claim to a son. Isabella, it was confessed, in her own
person was incapable of reigning, but Edward was next in
blood to the late monarch, and took precedence of so distant
a collateral as the heir of the Valois, who was removed by
one degree more.  Unluckily for Edward, if this doctrine
held good, there were descendants of the daughter of a
former king still alive, and the three brothers through whom
he claimed were usurpers.  But, however legal sophistry
might display itself, everybody knew that the final umpire
was the sword. Edward the Second had been deposed by
his Parliament on account of his cowardice, tyranny, and
falsehood, and when the wretched drama was brought to a
conclusion by his frightful murder in the dungeon of Berkeley Castle, and the hated queen received her punishment, far
less than she deserved, by confinement to one of the royal
houses, the king, radiant in strength and courage, held the
sceptre, though only in his eighteenth year, with so firm a
hand, that all England felt there was again a man at the
head of affairs who would compensate for the disgraces of his
predecessor's administration.  All France also was very soon
of the same opinion, and in a short time the Huncdred Years'
War began.  Quarrels and misunderstandings were on a
gigantic scale in those days. With us the Thirty Years'
War of the German Reformation is quoted as a very long
one; the war of the Revolution from 1793 to t815 seems an
enormous tract of time devoted to the arts of destruction.
But from 1337 to the loss of the English possessions in 1450
— for the li~.orians gipe good measure in their valuation of a




A. D. 1336.]   THE HUNDRED YEARS WAR.              101
hundred years-there was no pause in the mutual wrath and
slaughter of the greatest of European states. The spirit in
which the war began was sufficient to insure its permanence
while there was a power -of fighting on either side. The
declaration is worth quoting as manifesting the animosity
already established between the nations. A combination of
pirates off the Spanish main never inaugurated a voyage with
such ferocious sentiments.  The knights and gentlemen of
England, assembled in a cour pleniere, that is, in a full assembly under the presidency of the Crown, bound themselves
upon the Heron-a touch of conscience, let us hope, prevented them from swearing it upon the Gospels —" to ravage and
massacre without pity, to spare neither mill nor altar, nor
pregnant women, nor relations nor friend."  Amenities of the
same kind were professed on the other side, and Edward for
a while left off his overbearing cruelties and lawyer-like quibbles in Scotland, and threw himself heart and spirit into the
French quarrel. A wise man, though careless of blood, and
sagacious enough to forego his personal feelings when his interests were concerned, haughtier than his predecessors, despising the commonalty with more vigorous contempt than
even the Valois to whom he was opposed, Edward saw that
the power by which victories were gained had changed its
seat. It rested no longer in square stone tower or battleaxes, but was found in busy looms and swarming factories, in
broad-bottomed ships, and bales of Indian silks.  So he made
the rough mechanics of Flanders his friends, gave them privileges of trade, invited their extra numbers to come under his
guardian solicitude into England, and wrote delightfully
familiar letters to his I" good friend and cousin " James Van
Artarveld, a brewer in the great city of Ghent. He turned
to his own people also, and spoke to them of the advantages
of commerce, and the duty of rich citizens to furnish men-atarms, not steel-clad horsemen as in the olden time following
their chiefs in fulfilment of their feudal obligations, but stout
wielders of the sword and drawers of the bow, men in buff
jerkins and leather helmet, with whose assistance he could




102              DISTRESS OF FRANCE.          [A. D. 1340
rout the chivalry of France. The truth of this apparent
boast was proved by the annihilation of the hostile fleet in
the harbour of Sluys in 1340, and by a series of successful
advances during the following years. Intestine troubles broke
out in France in addition to foreign war. There were revolts
in Brittany and *other dukedomsn; and everywhere supportwas furnished to the malcontents by England.  Mlany of the
nobles were in England's pay, the sea was open to his ships,
for Philip had lost every vessel at Sluys, and all the oppressed
Frenchman could do was to stir up troubles in Scotland to
attract his enemy's attention nearer home. Truces were occasionally patched up,-by the connivance, apparently, of
the rival kings,- during which one went and punished his
refractory vassal in Brittany, and the other carried fire and
sword from the Tweed to the Forth.  By the great victory
of Crecy in 1346, the balance turned greatly in favour of the
English claimant. Philip could no longer ride out to a campaign in the midst of an escort of kings and great vassals.
The flower of French chivalry was swept away, and little reliance could henceforth be placed on the old resources of'
mounted tenants and personal adherents. At the siege of
Quesnay in 1341, there had appeared a ridiculous-looking
hollow mass composed of plates of iron tied together with
strong hoops and loaded with a black powder, which projected round stones, about once in the four hours, against the
walls with tremendous force.  This was the first cannon employed in European war, and far-sighted chevaliers might
have seen in the first flash that their occupation was gone.
A few shots were also fired at Crecy. But more palpable to
the common observation was the now established fact that
the strength of battle was in a line of "' yeomen good."  It
took a long time to infix this very unwelcome circumstance
on the hearts of stout knights and hopeful squires.  The fallacy of chivalry lingered on, and waving plumes and burnished armour were in use long after muskets, and even pistols,
had rendered them of no avail.
The terrible day of the 26th of August, 1346, had cost to




A. D. 1347.] THE ENGLISH KING MAKES A JOKE.        103
Philip the lives of eleven princes, twelve hundred knights,
and thirty thousand men. A popular king might have riser.
up under so great a misfortune, but Philip of. Valois was
hated by his subjects. His oppressive taxation had reached
its height when it forced a groan from every cottage, and a
witticism from Edward the Third. To talk of those grim
historical personages being jocular and addicted to laughter
like other men, seems a contradiction in terms, and a derogation from the cheerless dignity in which they ensconce
themselves. But it will reconcile us, perhaps, to the hardhearted Plantagenet that he gave utterance to a pun, which
may farther endear itself to our memory by the fact of being
a horribly bad one. WMhen all other means of raising the
revenue were exhausted, Philip, in an evil hour, laid on the
Gabelle, which was a tax upon salt.  " This is the real
author of the Salic law," exclaimed the son of Isabella, and
perhaps resolved to overturn it in favour of the people, as
well as of himself  Fortunately for the independence of
France, the English invaders roused everywhere the hatred
of high and low. Whether in fulfilment of their vow of the
Heron, or merely to gratify their love of blood, these leaders
of the expedition were unpitying in their treatment of the
vanquished. Fear of the foreigner supplied the place of attachment to the national crown, and every fresh success of
Edward against the soldiery called forth fresh animosity from
the millions of the land. Calais was taken after the field of
Crecy, and only, as we are told, on the intercession of his
wife Philippa could Edward be prevailed on to pardon the
burgesses of the town, who were given up to his vengeance
by the exhausted inhabitants. WThether this be true or not,
it paints the manners of the time; and this, at all events,
admits of no dispute, that the conqueror drove every resident
of the devoted place to find subsistence or starve, as the case
might be, outside of the walls, and repeopled the whole city
with a great colony of English. Philip, on the other hand,
came to the rescue of the exiles in a way which probably
produced no benefit to the sufferers for it was by an ordon



104           THE PLAGUE OF FLORENCE.   [A. D. 1348,
nance appropriating " all the fines and forfeitures which
might fall to the Crown, along with the salary of all offices
which might become vacant, till their losses were entirely
made up." There were too many courtiers and applicants
for grants around the person of the sovereign to allow any
forfeitures or salaries to find their way to the good folk of
Calais; and Eustace St. Pierre and his gallant companions
are likely to have died in poverty. If they lived, it was in
obscurity, for their names are heard no more.
The French nobles began now to look with divided interests on the fortune of the war. Edward, by the advice
of his gossip the Brewer of Ghent, had boldly taken the
royal name, and borne the lilies on his shield and banner;
for, as the sagacious Fleming observed, "if you continue a
mere invader, the knights and feudatories, and especially the
great Earl of Flanders himself, will himself, will have scruples in assisting
you against their sovereign lord. Be their sovereign lord
yourself and it will be their feudal duty to aid your enterprise."  So two kings ravaged the country, and the men of
lands and hereditaments saw nothing but the chance of forteiture from disobedience to one or other of their majesties.
But a truce came unexpectedly in the midst of those civil
agitations; for the most dreadful plague ever known in
Europe made the boldest and most thoughtless tremble at
what was evidently the wrath of Heaven.  Pope Clement the
Sixth proclaimed the double unholiness of war when so great
a calamity darkened all lands.  This is known in history as
the piague of Florence. Originally coming from the East, it
gradually extended its ravages in the West and North, and
in France found a fitting place for the display of its horrors;
for the late wars had wasted the farms, and ruined the towns,
and withered the hopes of the people. Prelates, and nobles,
and princes, felt the fatal stroke. The Queen of Navarre and
the Queen of France were the first royal victims; and while
the whole country lay in this wretched state, and every man
expected his last hour, property seemed to lose all its value.
Mlany great land-owners retired into convents; and the legalists




A. D. 1350.]   DEATH OF-PHILIP THE SIXTIT.         105
availed themselves of the general insecurity to advance the
interests of the King.  Dauphiny was bought for his grandson Charles, who thence took the name of the Dauphin, for
two hundred thousand florins; and. James of Majorca sold
Montpellier for a hundred thousand crowns. ~When the terror had in some degree subsided, and popular fury had vented
itself in cruel persecution of the Jews, and even of notorious
swearers and blasphemers, and the plague had gone on to exercise its strength on yet unexhausted realms, the King applied for the hand of Blanche of Navarre for his eldest son.
But when the old man saw the beauty of the princess, who
was said to be the loveliest woman of her time, he determined
to keep her to himself, and consoled his disappointed heir
with the widow of the Duke of Burgundy.  While the festivals and rejoicings for these double espousals were going on,
the King, who was in his sixtieth year, perhaps repented of
his precipitancy, and after a short illness died in 1350-a
man of personal courage and resolute mind, but with none of
the nobler virtues which make kings respectable even when
they are unfortunate.
John, King of France, was thirty-one years of age at the
time of his father's death, and was in all respects, except in
the wisdom and lofty sentiment of the Spanish Hidalgo, a
royal prefiguration of Don Quixote. His whole education
consisted in books of chivalry, and his models were impossible
beings like Amadis de Gaul. The fate of a fantastical and
imaginative person like this, when opposed to tohe crushing
common sense and unscrupulous pertinacity of Edward the
Third, might easily have been foreseen. There were Crecys
and Poictiers written in every line of their characters. At
his coronation at Rheims he armed chevaliers, his brother
Philip, his son the Dauphin, the young Duke of Burgundy,
and the two Princes of Artois, with all the ceremonies of
knightly initiation. He then made a royal progress through
the portions of the realm which were yet in his power, and
thought he was consolidating his interests by tournaments
and Feasts of the Peacock. Wherever he went there was




106              CHARACTER OF JOHN.         I[. D. 1352.
emulation in expenditure and show. Feudalism had reached
the period of its existence when it hid the harshness of its
real features under the gloss of romance and sentiment.
Songs and poems were everywhere sung and recited, recording
the great deeds and hapless loves of long-olrgotten heroes.
Charlemagne and all his peers, and a mixed literature of
Oriental grandeur and Western superstition-palaces of gold
and jewels on the banks of the Tigris, and enchanters and
transformed damsels on the banks of the Garonne-recollections evidently of the wild fables which had overshadowed the
true history of the Crusaders, and of the wilder beliefs of
Gael and Frank softened by time and distance;-these were
the intellectual food on which the upper classes were fed.
And foremost in the ring, and most believing of the listeners, was the man whose crown was tottering on his head,
and whose competitor was the strongest-armed and most inflexible-hearted warrior, statesman, and legislator the world
could show. As if in mockery of the terrible realities by
which he was encompassed, the King gave himself up to the
enjoyment of an imaginary world in which his word was supreme. He amused himself with, what he thought a resuscitation of the noble times of the championship of forlorn damsels and the siege of enchanted castles; and surrounded with
high-born dames, and barons who looked back to Arthur and
the Palaclins of the Round Table as their ancestors in chivairy, held high feast and tournay; and created, in imitation
of the Garter instituted in 1350, the second Order of Knighthood recognised in Europe, the Order of the Star or of the
Noble House. Now at this time there was a manl in France
who presented in his own person the double spectacle of actual
and fictitious chivalry. This was Charles of Navarre, Chevalier and King-one-and-twenty years of age, handsome and
eloquent —from  spur to plume a star of tournament-and
married to the French King's daughter. Nobody could dwell
more gracefully on the duties of armed chevalier-on courtesy, justice, generosity, and aid to the weak and feeble.
And yet it is painful to say this ingenious, brave, liberal, and




A. D. 1352.]  ARREST OF CHARLES THE BAD.           107
royal gentleman, was known by the name of the Bad.
Charles the MAauvais was the truest knight in theory, and
the greatest rascal in practice ever known. Hle claimed the
appanage of Angouleme in right of his mother, but John had
unfortunately given it to the Constable Charles of Spain.
The Constable was refreshing in a hostel near L'Aigle, in
Normandy, suspecting no evil, and never thinking that the
acceptance of a gift from the King of France would be a sentence of death against him by the King of Navarre.  But
the latter potentate was judge by his office, and executioner
by his own desire. He rushed with many men into the room;
and slew the unhappy Constable, his brother in chivalry, unarmed and surprised. The county of Angouleme was now
vacant, he thought, and he claimed it more earnestly than
before.  There was no rising of horror in the IKing's heart at
this treacherous act. There was only an enemy to be gained
over, and a friend to be forgotten.  So he forgot the Constable, and gave Charles his demand. In less than a year the
young King of Navarre had established his power so firmly
in his new acquisitions, that he began to look higher, and
thought, with the help of Edward, he might expel his cousin
trom the throne of France; and accordingly he exerted himself as a popular orator, and declaimed, in town-hall and
market place, against taxes and oppressions, and professed
himself a reformer of all the abuses in Church and State.
Charles, the Dauphin, became alarmed, and made overtures
of friendship to the murderer. A treaty was concluded, and
in 1356 a great festival was given at Rouen, by the heir to
the crown, to the now reconciled monarch of Navarre. When
the dinner was going on, John broke furiously into the apartment. He had ridden across from Orleans, and came in the
nick of time.  " Down, traitor! " he cried, and seized the
Navarrese by the throat, striking him, and sparing no act of
brutality. " By my father's soul," he cried, " I will neither
eat nor drink, methinks, as long as you live!"  On a sign, the
ca ptive was grasped by the me-at-arms, and hurried off to
the dungeon of the Louvre, in Paris. Another sign was the




108               JOHN A PRISONER.           LA. D. 1350.
death-warrant of every attendant the unsuspecting king had
brought with him; they were decapitated in the hall where
they were at a friendly meal; and John rejoiced as King in
the dignity of his behaviour, and as Knight of the Star, in its
courage. This, however, was not the only field in which he
showed his prowess in this fatal year 1356. The brothers
and friends of the imprisoned King of Navarre applied to
Edward of England for revenge.  The English monarch
called it justice, and sent his son, the Black Prince, to administer it with a great army.  The fame of Crecy had not
yet died out, and the approaching struggle was looked on as
a return game to be played by the same players; John, therefore, at the head of all his knights, hurried down to Poictiers,
where the wickets were set up, and guarded by the bowmen
and billmen of the former match.
There is a wonderful amount of sameness in our three
great battles against the French. Our army is caught in an
unsafe position, and is threatened by overwhelming numbers.
The leaders try to temporise, and offer great sacrifices to avoid
the fight. The French, presumptuous and self-willed, refuse
all accommodation, assault with impetuous courage, and are
exterminated horse and man. This is not complimentary to
the generalship of our chiefs, but speaks trumpet-tongued of
the courage and endurance of our men. On this occasion,
Ban and Arrieire Ban of France, amounting to eighty thousand men, drew up in battle array against exactly one-tenth
of their numbers. Eight thousand men stood upon that
memorable ground, prepared to fight or die; and doubtless
their joy must have been mingled with surprise when the result of their engagement met their eyes. The French king,
many princes, many counts, and rich feudatories, were their
prisoners; their enemies utterly destroyed, and spoil enough
lying in the deserted tents to enrich a Nottingham archer or
Suffolk burgess for life. We may doubt whether John was
not consoled for his misfortune by the strictly chivalrous manner in which the conqueror received him. No captive monarch of Abyssinia was ever received at the gate of a castle




A. D. 1356.]     TREATMENT OF JOHN.                109
built entirely of jasper and diamonds by El Tenebroso, the
knight of Troy, with more rigorous adhesion to the rules laid
down in chivalry, than was the prisoner of Poictiers by the
Prince of WVales. From the field of battle to Bordeaux he
was led in a sort of triunmph, where the places of the victor
and the vanquished in the old Roman pageant seemed absolutely reversed; for John held the first seat, rode the best
horse, fed at a table too sacred for any one to sit at but himself, and was waited on, cap in hand, knee on ground, by the
heir of England, the best-known warrior in Christendom.
The same conduct-farce would perhaps be too harsh a wordwas continued in the following year, when the Prince and his
captive made their famous entry into London. Royally
treated at the Tower, and surrounded by lords who still spoke
his language, though with the difference between the pronunciation of Paris and that taught at Stratford-le-Bow-invited
to jousts and tournaments, and with all the dignity of a king
without his cares, we shall scarcely think it so great a stretch of
magnanimity in John as it was in Regulus, to return to the
scene of his captivity, when he had been permitted on his
word of honour to go home to negotiate for his release. John
came back to the courtesies of a generous hospitality, and, if
report speaks true, to the presence of a noble lady, to whom
he had devoted his heart; and Regulus went back to Carthage
to be tortured with inhuman malignity till he died. Nor was
the condition of France at that time such as to tempt his stay.
The Dauphin stepped forward in the absence of the King,
and found the whole country in disunion and distress. A
meeting of the States-General was held, and, in emulation of
their English contemporaries, the assembled representatives
of the nation made hard terms with the Crown. They demanded the dismissal of many of the legal functionaries whom
they distrusted, and the nomination of the receivers of taxes;
and on these conditions they granted a supply. But the supply granted. by the assembly was to be raised among the people, and where was the money to come from?  Despair took
possession of the hearts of the wretched peasantry. Jacques




110                  BARRICADES.             [A. D. 1358
Bonhomme —the pitying or contemptuous name by which the
unfranchised classes were known-grew wild with hunger and
rage. He broke through all bounds, and destroyed what he
could not enjoy. Castles, houses, farms, and even monasteries, were sacked and burned; and down upon him, in remorseless hatred and irresistible strength, poured the mounted
and armed soldiery. The Jacquerie was crushed out by main
force, and the royal and noble party rejoiced in the removal
of their enemies, forgetting that from the masses only of those
enemies could they hope to gather friends. For the English
were perpetually at their gates. Paris was in insurrection;
and our old acquaintance, Charles the Bad, was collecting all
the wild and discontented spirits of the land to aid him, not
only in escaping from the Louvre, but ascending the throne
of France.
It seems like meeting with a page descriptive of the Revolution in 1793 in its wrong place, when we come to certain
transactions of the year 1358. Charles the Bad had been allowed to slip out of confinement, and was now in Paris.
Streets were barricaded, and harangues made in all quarters.
Charles himself brought his power of popular oratory into
play, and addressed the wondering citizens from a tribune
near the Abbey of St. Germain. Roused by his inflammatory
language, crowds forced their way into the Dauphin's presence, and compelled him to restore all his chateaux and other
property to the king of Navarre, and to proclaim the innocence of his comrades, who were treacherously slaughtered at
Rouen by the King. But early next year the effects of this
extorted clemency were known. One of the treasurers being
assassinated by a citizen, the Dauphin ordered the murderer
to be seized in the Church, to which he had fled for safety,
and executed without delay. Robert of Clermont,,Marshal
of Normandy, and John of Conflans, Marshal of Champagne,
carried the sentence into effect. But two feelings were roused
to madness by this righteous violence. The priests, encouraged by the Bishop of Leon, cried out against the infraction
of their asylum; and the Parisian populace exclaimed against




A. D. 1358.]      RIOTS IN PARIS.                 111
such severity to one of themselves, who had merely put a
royal tax-gatherer to death. Led by the turbulent Stephen
Marcel, provost of the town, dressed in red bonnets trimmed
with blue, the tumultuous citizens presented themselves to
the prince. In the midst of clamour and con-fusion the provost
pointed to the marshals, who stood at the Dauphin's side.
In a moment they were stabbed in a hundred places, their
blood spurting out upon their master's clothes. " Do you wish
to spill the blood of France?" inquired the prince. " No,"
answered the provost, and to protect him from popular fury,
exchanged caps with him, putting the red bonnet on the head
of the Regent, and leading him with the shoutings of a countless multitude to the Hotel de Ville. Arrived there a, window was opened, and the prince, in a long speech, pronounced
his friends the Marshals of Champagne and Normandy enemies and traitors, and that they were justly punished for their
misdeeds. This man was a lineal ancestor of Louis the Sixteenth. It is pleasant to know that justice overtook the provost ere many months expired.  The Regent had again established his authority in Paris, and Charles the Bad was
laying siege to the walls.  Marcel had agreed to open the
gate to the enemy, but he was overt;aken by a worthy bailiff
of the name of John Mallard, and knocked on the head with
an axe when he was in the very act of applying the key.
Who could tell, in that distracted period, whether he was
fighting for the good cause or not?  Government was not
more disorganised in the great shipwreck of the Roman Empire, for at this time there was no Clovis with the strong hand
and military discipline to come to the rescue of the weltering
mass. The want of money had released all the mercenaries
from their obedience, and want of employment had reduced
the peasantry to starvation. The Jacquerie, therefore, broke
out from time to time; and while the barons and freeholders
gathered in large numbers for the protection of their houses
and lands, countless hosts of discharged soldiers joined the opposite side. Free lances or " companies," following a leader
of their choice, and living by plunder, appeared everywhere.




112              PEACE OF BRETIGNY.        [A. D. 1359,
Adventurers from England and Navarre were companions in
those frightful scenes, and all France, you may almost say,
was given up to pillage and conflagration. Knightly John,
in the mean time, entered into a bargain with Edward in
Englancl, by which, in exchange for his liberty, he was to
strip the French crown of all its late acquisitions, and give
over to his vassal, in full sovereignty, the whole of the territory which now, or at any time, had belonged to the English
crown. Charles the Dauphin took courage from despair.
HIe summoned a national parliament, and refused to ratify the
selfish arrangement. Better, he said, have open war for ever,
than sacrifice the dignity of France. John was once more
led back to his apartments in the Tower, and Edward took
over an army to Calais. He found no enemy to oppose his
march. Crecy and Poictiers had taught the Frenchmen wisdom: they retired step by step, and saw the invader gradually weakened by the want of provisions and other comforts,
in the ruined and depopulated country. He invested Rheims,
with the intention of being crowned in that sacred city, but
was repulsed by the archbishop, after a six weeks' siege. He
showed himself before the walls of Paris,-but what was the
use of camping, or marching, or even of capturing the capital of the kingdom, when everything was a prey to disorder
and desolation? The wearied-out King agreed to terms at
Bretigny, by which peace was concluded in 1360.  Ecldward
was now contented with Aquitaine, and some of its dependencies released from obligation, and a ransom of three million golden crowns for his royal prisoner. He reserved, at the
same time, his claim to the French throne, and left some minor questions for future settlement,-a convenient arrangement for enemies who are only out of breath for the time, and
wish to renew the engagement when they have recovered their
wind. Three million golden crowns! All France could
scarcely have found the sum necessary to release the King,
even if his presence had been thought worth the money. But
a foreigner came to the rescue.  John Galeaz had obtained
supreme power in Mlilan, and was anxious to connect himself




A. D. 1360.]  FREE COMPANIES TURNED ASIDE.        113
with the established dignities of Europe, by a royal marriage.
He offered to pay a large portion of the ransom, provided he
might have the hand of John's youngest daughter, and, thanks
to the gold wrung from the oppressed inhabitants of an Italian dukedom, the King of England opened the prison doors
to the King of France. The emancipated monarch resumed
his old train of thought.,He drew plans for a confederation
of knights and gentlemen, against the free companions and
the serfs. The Pope aided him in this, by publishing a crusade against them, and after he had issued the sentence,
trembled within the walls of Avignon; for he heard that a
countless host of those desperadoes were coming down the
valley of the Rhone.  Short shrift would his holiness have
had if he had fallen into the hands of a free lance of Navarre.
But a safeguard was found in the Marquis of Montserrat, who
met the multitudes as they hurried to their prey, took them
into his pay, and led them across the Alps, with a promise
of the plunder of Milan. The Pope blessed the happy move-:ment that carried his enemies so far away, and even John
was not displeased that the storm should fall upon his plebeian son-in-law rather than himself. The conduct of the Marquis of Montserrat seemed an excellent model for his own.
As Avignon and the south were freed from those frightful
freebooters by a transplantation to Italy, why should not Europe itself be freed from its dissolute and impoverished population by a revival of the crusades?  Already he saw himself
at the head of a glittering host, emulating the deeds of Richardc Coeur-de-Lion and Philip Augustus.  Waldemar, king
of Denmark, was at the court of the Pope; so was Peter of
Lusignan, King of Cyprus, who asked the aid of all good
Christians against the Sultan of Cairo. Urban the pope was
zealous in his favour, and preached the holy cause with the
fervour of Saint Bernard. But the days of Saint Bernard had
long passed away; men's thoughts had now a more practical
direction; the voice of the papal chief had lost much of its
thunder since the degradation of Boniface the Eighth and the
meanness of his successors.  The provincialism also of a resis




114          ATTEMPTS AT A CRUSADE.        [A. D. 1364
dence at Avignon had tarnished the dignity of a chair whose
proper place was the eternal Rome; and kings, princes, and
a few archbishops, had it all to themselves. Nobody would
mortgage house and home to fit out for the Holy Land. And
yet the enthusiastic king would not surrender his hope of success. If he could get Edward of England to join in the expedition-Edward the conqueror of Crecy and Poictiers —
the lord of England and Ireland, and Aquitaine, what might
not be expected from their united forces?  Louis of Anjou,
his favourite son, who had been left as hostage in the Tower,
broke his parole and came over to see him while engaged in
these meditations. The feeling of the knight overcame the
affection of the father, and as the young man would not go
back to prison, he resolved to resume his confinement in his
stead. The kings who so deeply cherished the idea of a new
assault on Islam, had already exerted their influence on
that subject in London.  David Bruce, of Scotland, had
added a fourth crown to the conclave in favour of a crusade.
But Edward was deaf to all their arguments.  Years had
brought to him the philosophic mind, and also the debilitated
body; and John, in fulfilment of the noble words, which
he perhaps quoted from some romance of chivalry,:' Good
faith, if banished from the earth, ought to find itself in the
heart of kings," remained a contented prisoner; not in the
fortalice of the Tower, but in the spacious rooms of the palace
of the Savoy. There, surrounded by the noble hostages, his
brother of Orleans, the Duke of Berry, the Duke of Bourbon,
and many more, he led the life he had pictured to himself in
all his dreams. There were feasts and balls-dinners of the
most amazing size, and suppers till daylight did appear-little excursions on the Thames from Westminster to the Savoy, or from the Savoy to Westminster-junketings with
noble dames, and jokes and songs and corantos from the accomplished Enguerrand de Coucy, whose graces as a dancer,
and beauty of person, won him the hand of the Princess Royal
of England. And pity would be wasted on a captive who
enjoyed his captivity so much. It is more probable he died




A. D. 1364.]        DEATH OF JOHN.                   115
of too frequent a repetition of those gorgeous festivals, than
of grief for the loss of freedom; but whatever it was, he
brought his strange life to a close-a life of thoughtless happiness in the midst of personal and national calamities which
would have broken any other spirit-of little true ambitionand much individual injustice-in the April of 1364.




CHAPTER V.
FRO.M CHARLES THE FIFTH, A. D. 1364, TO THE RECOGNITION ON
HENRY THE FIFTH OF ENGLAND, A. D. 1420.
CHARLES THE FIFTH was seven-and-twenty when he began
to reign, and if he had followed the example of his father, he
would have played the part of feudal king and fighting cavalier, as that for which he was ordained.  But the young
monarch saw that France had need of other defenders than
feudal kings and fighting cavaliers. It needed a clear eye and
a steady hand, a man at the helm, not a gilt figure at the
prow, for never was there a time when the vessel of the State
seemed in such danger. There was a whole people to feed
and satisfy-rebellious vassals to reclaim-an open foe to
guard against-riotous bands in the very heart of the kingdom to be discomfited; and for all this he had an empty
treasury, a discontented parliament, ambitious communes,
and a disunited nobility. But the French heart of courage,
and chivalrous spirit of loyalty, was still entire.  Bertrand
du Guesclin was the sword of France, and Charles was her
shield. " You shall risk nothing in a pitched battle against
the English," he said. "You shall divide into small bodies
and harass the enemy. You shall seize his towers by surprise
and make up by rapidity of march for fewness of number.
Meanwhile I will win over the municipalities whose protecting castles are turned against me. I will defend the farmer
in his work, and guard the harvest when the corn is ripe. I
will prevent extortion of the tax-gatherers, and assault from
the freebooters. Law shall resume its power, and the great
feudatories of the Crown shall unite for the common defence."
Wise plans, and successfully executed, while the governing




A. D. 1364.]      CHARLES THE WISE.                117
hand remained.  But Charles was weak in body, and over
him always hung the sentence of death, passed on him by the
physicians in his youth. Charles the Bad, in return for his
arrest at Rouen, had mixed poison in the Dauphin's food.
The prince escaped destruction by the opening of a perpetual
wound in his left arm. " Whenever the sore heals over," the
doctors said, "the Dauphin must die."  This issue was probably only a sign of a feeble constitution, but it silenced the
sneers of his enemies, who were not accustomed to see a king
except in armour; it doubled the respect of the few discerning potentates of the time, who began to perceive that a calbinet might be quite as great a scene of glory as a field of battle. Edward the Third said he was never so resisted in open
fight, as by the calm sagacious counsellor who had never
drawn a sword. Before the first year was over all men perceived that kings were greatly clhanged.  There were no tournaments at the Louvre —no feasts at the palace. The King
lived like an anchoret, except on state occasions, when he
outshone the magnificence of oriental princes; and paid his
men-at-arms their wages, and granted privileges to the trading towns, and did not increase a single tax!  People must
have grown ashamed of sustaining the cause of Charles the
Badl, against so true a Frenchman and gracious a king as
Charles the Wise; yet the war continued. It had been I)u
Guesclin's policy to recover as much of the valley of the Seine
as he could from the hands of the King of Navarre. He had
already secured Nantes and 2Meulan, and now the valorous
Captal de Buch came to the rescue with a great number of
discharged soldiers and desperate adventurers in his train; Englishmen and Brabanters, and Dutchmen and Bohemians, and
Navarrese and Gascons.  Du Guesclin's troops were a little
alarmed at the appearance of the foe; but he only said,
"Stay quietly where you are, and I'll take the Captal prisoner and destroy the rest."  He waited long and patiently on
the rising ground. The enemy were also on a hill. But English impetuosity could stand inaction no longer, and the mercenaries from all lands were thirsting for spoil. The French




11S                 DU GUESCLIN.             [A. D. 1364
pretended to retreat, and the Captal moved from his formidable position into the plain. Du Guesclin exclaimed, "' He is
mine! " and charged down with great force. Thirty knights
clashed through all impediments, and laid hands on the astonished Captal. Enclosed on all sides, he was led off through
his own men, and taken without pulling bridle to the strong
post of Vernon. The King and his young Queen were kneeling at the altar at Rheims with the crown upon their heads
on their coronation day, when this news was brought to them
by a messenger from the camp. "'Tis a bridal gift for the
king," Du Guesclin had said before the battle, "and the
Captal is his captive to ransom or keep."  But the course of
true war, any more than of true love, never did run smooth.
Two pretenders were in arms for the dukedom  of Brittany;
the Count of Montfort, supported by the English, and Charles
of Blois by the king. The English this time were not led by
a foreign adventurer, but fought under their own standard,
and were commanded by the famous John Chandos, the only
rival in Europe to the fame of Du Guesclin, as general and
knight. Another celebrated warrior, Oliver Clisson, was on
the English side, and the star of Du Guesclin for a moment
was obscured. He was taken prisoner at the combat of Auray in the September of the same year which saw him conqueror of the Captal de Buch, and the French interests seemed at the lowest ebb.  But the politician in his cabinet at
Paris knew how to make up for losses in a battle. One of
the pretenders, Charles of Blois, was killed in the engage-.ment, and the King of France, accepting this as a providential decision of the quarrel, recognised the title of the survivor on condition of his doing homage for the dukedom.  He
also arranged a marriage at the same time between the rival
families, which might reconcile the contending factions.
Peace was concluded on these terms at Guerande in 1365,
and Du Guesclin was restored to liberty. Peace also was
concluded with Charles of Navarre, who was glad to accept
the city of Montpellier in exchange for the places he had lost
upon the Seine, and a period of rest was promised to the dis



A. D. 1365.]   THE FREE COMPANIES.                  119
tracted land.  But rest was impossible with so many conflicting interests to arrange, and such a spirit of unrule cliffused
by the recent struggles.  Thousands of armed men were in
all parts of the country, discharged from the service of the
dukes and princes who had now made up their quarrels, but
not by any means inclined either to return to their own lands
or to submit to the laws of the kingdom.  Forming themselves
into large bodlies, they besieged and ransomed towns of the
greatest size; or uniting by fifty or a hundred at a time, they
lived at free quarters in the villages and farms of remote districts, and were always ready to come to each other's assistance whenever the central authority threatened to stop their
proceedings. France, differing in no respect from the position of a conquered country in the hands of its invaders,
sighed for the time of more regular warfare, where the English companies were held in some restraint by the presence of
their chiefs, and the rules of chivalry were not altogether disregardecd in the intercourse between the armies.  Charles the
WNise looked back with fond regret to the time of the Crusades, and meditated another exportation of the restless adventurers of all surrounding countries to the East.  But the
Brabanters, English, and Saxons were very well satisfied with
their present position, and had no desire to distinguish themselves against the enemies of the Faith, when they could live
so comfortably on the fat of abbey-lands, and occasionally put
a bishop to ransom at home.  The example of 3Montserrat,,
who had saved the Pope at Avignon by leading the Free Lan —
ces of the south against the wealth of Milan, occurred also to
the anxious thoughts of the King  and just at the moment
when he was in greatest distress, a circumstance occurred in,
Spain which gave him the wished-for opportunity.  Pedro,
known in general history as the Cruel, but recognised in:
Spanish annals as the Great Justiciar, had offended a great:
proportion of his subjects by his relentless executions and.
harsh behaviour.  He had poisoned his wife, a princess of:'
Bourbon, at the instigation of his favourite Maria de Padilla,,
and threatened death to the surviving natural children of his




120          THE POPE BUYS THEM OFF.    [A. D. 1365
father.  Of these, Don Henry de Trastamar was the most
popular and the best; he fled to France, and implored the
aid of Charles against the murderous husband and unpitying brother. Du Guesclin saw the opening.'Sir," he said,
"the Free Lances are anxious for work, and will gather from
all parts if I hoist my banner. Better neighbours will they
be on the other side of the Pyrenees than on this."  Charles
adopted the party of the banished brother, and preparations
were instantly made.  Du Guesclin himself had begun as a
leader of Free Lances, and knew their ways.  Thirty thousand of them joined him in an incredibly short space of time,
and he marched southward down the Rhone. The Pope was
as much alarmed as his predecessor had been, and sent out to
know the object of their approach to Avignon. Bertrand answered with a grim smile, " We are thirty thousand poor
Christian pilgrims bound on a crusade against the Saracens of
Granada, and we want the Holy Father's absolution, and also
two hundred thousand livres."   " Touching the absolution,
my son," replied the nuncio, " you shall have it without fail;
*but with regard to the money, that is a different thing."'; Sir," replied the knight, "there may be many here who
7reck not of absolution, but many who desire the money, for
we make them prudent men in spite of themselves."  Their
prudence was rewarded with both the absolution and the coin.
They made a detour, and Avignon was saved.  When they
reached Toulouse, the object of the expedition was for the'first time declared to them. Plunder and battle was all they
required, and a deluge of cruelty, carnage, and destructiveness poured down on devoted Spain.  Pedro was expelled
from the throne, and fled to Portugal.  Henry was crowned
at Burgfos with Du Guesclin at his side, and was joyously received in the other cities of Castile.
Both nations now seemed ready for repose, and the triumph
of'having restored an exile and created a king was added to
the other glories of the French monarch.  But the Black
Prince held his court at Bordeaux. Feasts and tournaments
were celebrated according to the strictest rules of chivalry,




A. D. 1367.] ENGLISH VICTORY AT NAVARETTE.         121
and noble ladies listened to the songs of troubadours, and the
picturesque narratives of Froissart, and the adventures of
fabulous warriors, as their predecessors were said to have clone
in the days of Charlemagne and Arthur.  Suddenly a dethroned and powerless king threw himself at the feet of the
master of the lists; and half the stories of kingdoms lost
and won by the irresistible sword of a single champion immediately rushed to their minds. All the blood of knighthood was on fire at the insolence of a people who had rebelled
against their anointed lord, and Edward of Wales, as became
a knight and man of honour, vowed to restore his suppliant
to the throne. Crecy was renewed over again in the great'
field of Navarette in 1367. ODu Guesclin himself fell into
the enemy's hands, and all the work of the Free Lances was
utterly undone. Pedro was king and justiciary in one, and
let loose his royal vengeance on all the land. Murders, executions, confiscations, threw the whole kingdom into despair,
and the English bitterly repented of their interference in behalf of so unchivalrous, unpitying a tyrant.  The dreadful
heats of the south came to the support of Henry. The English died of fever and excess, and discipline became relaxed.
The reinstated king declined to pay the stipulated rewards;
mutiny broke out among the discontented conquerors; and
in the scorching summer, and amid these disturbances, the
health of the Black Prince began to ftil. Meantime, Charles
the Wise endeared himself to his subjects by diminishing
their burdens, by encouraging agriculture, and giving greater
influence to the parliaments he convoked. The contrast was
great and striking. Conquest in the field was of no avail
against the steady advance of a popularity so justly founded
and nobly sustained, as now grew on the vanquished side.
The Free Lances, who had joined the prince, if not paid by
the treasuries of Pedro, must be satisfied by the wealth of
their employer.  Edward returned to Bordeaux with barren
laurels, and an empty exchequer. He laid fresh burdens on
his unhappy subjects in Aquitaine, to pay for the expenses
incurred in Castile, and when the population of that trampled




122            DU GUESCLIN RELEASED.        [A. D. 1368
province compared their position with that of their neighbours
under the Crown, dissatisfaction took a wider range, and they
complained of their rulers, not only as oppressors, but as
foreigners. The English, indeed, even when the languages
were the same, never became acclimated in France, and now
there was added the great distinction of a different tongue;
for the Norman portion of the English people had now become so small, that English at this time was declared to be
the language of law, as it had long been of religion and commerce. Anglo-Saxon bowmen, who never spoke a word of
French, served in the ranks of the Black Prince, and, of
course, offended the nations by their brutal contempt for
everything they did not understand. The Prince, therefore,
in the midst of failing health and military disappointment,
perceived that his countrymen were not the masters of the
land he claimed, but were only forcibly encamped on it.
From England no help was to be had. The king was old,
and had fallen into the hands of a designing favourite, Alice
Perrers, and her. accomplices, who ruled him at their will.
And nothing was wanting to the French monarch in these
favourable circumstances, but warriors who could carry his
plans into effect. Du Guesclin was a prisoner at Bordeaux,
and all the wiser spirits in the court advised the Prince on
no account to let so dangerous an enemy go. But Edward
was made of Penetrable stuff; and on one occasion when they
were in familiar conversation, he said, if the captive could
collect a hundred thousand fiancs, he should be set at largea vast sum in those days; but the sight of Du Guesclin,
sword in hand, and released from bondage, was worth forty
times the amount to the French king. The money was sent
at once, and Du Guesclin lost no time in showing his arm
was as strong and his heart as brave as ever. A rapid incursion into Spain established Henry de Trastamar once more
upon the throne, and freed him from the rivalry of Pedro, by
the death of that ferocious tyrant. He was stabbed to the
heart by his infuriated brother, after a personal struggle
which lasted a long time.  Henry was now undisturbed,




A. D. 1369.] CHARLES ASSERTS HIS AUTHORITY.        12 
and attributed his prosperity to the favour of the French
king.
Charles was not slow in seeing the advantage of his position. Strengthened by the gratitude of his new ally, and the
general favour of all his subjects, he spoke in a tone of defiance and majesty to the English Prince, which sounded
strange in his ears within twelve years of the battle of Poictiers. He summoned the Prince of Wales to appear before
his court of peers, as one of the feudatories of the realm, to
answer for high crimes and misclemeanours. Edward answered, with much submission, that he would not fail to obey
the summons, but would bring sixty thousand men along
with him —helmet on head and spear in rest. Charles knew
too well that this was but a vain boast, for the warrior was
now too feeble to ride, and advanced in the exorbitance of his
claims. Hie repudiated the article of the last treaty by which
he surrendered Aquitaine in free sovereignty, and reclaimed
it as a fief of the Crown, Edward of England took up the
game of brag on behalf of his son, and retorted from Windsor
by reasserting his claim to the French throne, and calling
himself, in formal documents, King of England and France
once more. War was openly declared, and Charles summoned his states in Paris. Never was meeting so unanimous
and so sedately firm. Taxes were voted, forces were raised,
and defiance hurled against the English both in their island
fastness and the lands they usurped in France. Every village, in imitation of the enemy they had learned to fear, had
butts for practice of the bow; games of manly exertion were
encouraged; freedom was extended to the serfs, and the
municipal towns enriched with further privileges. Du Guesclin returned from the Spanish triumph, and visited the king.
The feeling in favour of illustrious birth was then so strong,
that though Charles had bestowed the highest commands on
the Breton soldier, they were offices which gave him only a
temporary superiority over the forces employed, andl implied
no permanent pre-eminence when peace should be restored.
But on this occasion a stately assemblage was called. All




124            DU GUESCLIN CONSTABLE.    LA. D. 13M7.
the princes of the blood, nobles of highest rank, chancellors,
judges, warriors, were assembled in the great palace of St.
Paul, and Charles gave his sword to Du Guesclin, and said,
C Du Guesclin, take my sword, and use it against my enemies.  Henceforth you are Constable of France."  This
was the highest dignity a subject could hold, and Bertrand
excused himself on account of his humble extraction; but
Charles persisted, and the Montmorencies, and De Coucis,
and Courtenais, and Bourbons, thought the sword could not
be in better wielding, and did obeisance to Sir Bertrand Du
Guesclin, who was now the foremost man in all the land.
The whole of Poitou fell in a short time. Rochelle itself
was taken. The example of submission was contagious; and
by the end of the year 1371, there remained nothing to the
English interest in all the dukedom of Brittany but the town
of Brest. Aquitaine continued in uneasy subjection to its
foreign lords; and when the parties came to a truce in 1375,
the glory of the English achievements was utterly obliterated
by the disasters of their later years, and Charles could look
forward to happier times than his predecessors had ever seen.
The Black Prince lingered painfully for four years, and died
at last at Eltham in 1377. Edward the Third, broken down
with labour and disappointment, followed his heroic son to the
tomb in a few months; and the accession of Richard the
Second was marlked by quarrels in the royal family, and a
dissolution of military discipline, which encouraged the invigorated French to the hardiest undertakings. A landing
was even made on the coast of Sussex; Calais was threatenedl; Normandy overrun as a supporter of the English; and
if Charles and the Constable had lived, there was a chance
of a complete expulsion of the enemy fifty years before it actually occurred.  But many things conduced to weaken the
health of the too thoughtful king. Dissensions among his
brothers renewed in Paris the scenes of falsehood and partisanship which were going on in London. The influence he pose
sessed over Europe as long as the Pope resided in Avignon,
was taken from him, first, by the removal of Gregory the




A. D. 1378.]   SCHISM IN THE CHURCH.               12'
Eleventh to Rome; and in a short time after that,, the usefulness of the papal chair in his schemes of advancement was
altogether destroyed by the schism which broke out at the election of the next Pope. For many years no one but natives
of France had been chosen to preside over the spiritual affairs
of Christendom, for the arts introduced by Philip the Handsome in securing a French majority amlong the cardinals had
never been discontinued.  But on this occasion the conclave
assembled at Rome was surrounded by a furious nmob. The
patriotic Italians insisted on an Italian Pope; and as a compromise, and under compulsion, the electors fixed on a temporary pontiff, who promised not to avail himself of their nomination, and took, merely for form's sake, the name of Urban
the Sixth. He immediately, however, used his apostolic
authority to free himself from the oaths he had taken, and
insulted the astonished cardinals to such a degree that they
convoked a meeting in a place of safety, and called Robert
of Geneva to the tiara.  He assumed the name of Clement
the Seventh, and fulminated curses on the impostor who disgraced the chair at Rome. France accepted the Frenchman,
who resided at Avignon as his predecessor had done; and
half the rest of Christendom, including England, adhered to
his Italian rival. This is the commencement of the great
schism which afforded such vantage-ground not only to the
enemies of priestcraft, but of Christianity itself. Charles felt
the blow equally as Christian and king, and perceived that
the Germans, Venetians, Genoese, or any other authority,
who were nearer to Rome and could pull the strings more
conveniently by which the puppet was moved, would have a
great gain in any future discussion with the kings of France.
While mourning this unhappy event, his grief was increased
by the fall of the Constable. Bertrand was besieging one of
the strong castles in Auvergne which was rebellious against
the royal authority and strengthened with an English garrison. The commander-it is a pity his name is not mentioned,
for he is an honour to our land-had agreed to surrender if
not relieved within a certain time. Fever, pain, and anxiety,




126            DEATH OF DU GUESCLIN.         [A. D. 1380,
laid Du Guesclin low; and when the appointed day came he
was lying on his bier, and preparations making to carry him
to the grave. The governor, true to his word, hauled down the
flag of independence, and marched out with all his men, head
bare and sword drawn, and laid the keys of the fortress on the
hero's coffin. So died the best soldier and truest gentleman
of France. His last words to his comrades who bent over his
couch were these, " Remember that whenever you are at war,
the churchmen, the women, the children, and the poor, are
not your enemies." Blow followed blow upon the tender
heart of Charles. Brittany threw  off its obedience, and
Flanders joined his enemies. The sword of his country was
broken, and his own arm was too weak to bear the shield.
He lingered a few days, and died in September 1380, in the
forty-fourth year of his age; and the immediate change in the
fortunes of his country shows how much, in those ages of unsettled law, depended upon the personal character of a king.
The entire secret of this wise ruler's success was reliance
on his people; and perhaps the most valuable portion of this
reliance was in the fact that in the word people he included
the whole population of France. This great word was not
limited, in his interpretation of it, to the tax-paying inhabitants of the towns or free labourers on the farms. The very
serfs on the soil were fellow-countrymen of the great successor
of St. Louis. His laws had reference as often to the interests
of the lowest of his subjects as to the rights of the richest
cities. He was the first and the last to put arms into the
hands of the whole nation. Each man had his bow and
quiver of arrows, his short sword or iron-pointed staff. He
was openly practised in the use of them, and was taught that
it was dishonourable for a Frenchman to be unable to defend
his wife and children with his own hands. The experiment
was so successful against even such generals as Chandos and
the Black Prince, that it might be expected to continue one
of the standing institutions of the kingdom.  But these feelings of self-respect were only useful against a foreign enemy,
and might be dangerous against a domestic master.  So,




A. D 1380.]      POLICY OF CHARLES.                127
ere many years elapsed, the system was abolishedl; the butts
were destroyed, the bows and swords withdrawn, for fear the
" small people" should find themselves too powerful; and the
result was-as we shall speedily see-Henry the Fifth of
England and the battle of Agincourt.  It was not more in
the formation of new establishments that Charles showed his
wisdom, than in the purification and improvement of the old.
The legalism so strongly encouraged by Philip the Handsome,
as a preservative against the power of the nobles, had now
become an oppression to the people. The civil servants of
the Crown absorbed a vast portion of the taxes they were
employed to raise, and the paid offices about the provincial
courts and local parliaments were innumerable.  He dliminished them both in number and amount of salary, and tried
to save his subjects from the intricacies of technical pleadings, as almost an equal evil with the violence of lawless
force. The only people, indeed, he could not bring within
the. rules of mercy and justice, were the lords and gentlemen,
who were the ornaments of chivalry and the strength of his
armies.  Bertrand Du Guesclin was a trained leader of
" Free Companies," and, solely by the excellence of nature,
was enabled to soar out of those bloody confederacies, and set
an example of honourable war. But the rest of the great
men of the time presented specimens of the most savage
atrocity, which seemed to derive new lustre from the extent
of suffering it caused. Next to Du Guesclin in fame, and
next wielder of the Constable's sword, was Oliver Clisson, a
knight of Brittany; and this is the manner in which he
considered an enemy was to be treated-not a blameless
enemy, let us say, for ferocious passions were excited on both
sides, and mutual excesses had deprived either party of a
right to complain. But the knightly code still remained in
force. The chevalier was to keep his sword for open fight,
and his spear for the breast of opposing horsemen. Blood,
however, with some men, is pleasant, whose soever veins it
flows from, and Oliver Clisson was of that sanguinary nulmber. An English governor of the small fortress of Benon, the




128              CHARLES THE SIXTH.          [A. D. 1380.
French call him  David Oligrane-which is probably not in
the slightest degree like the real name-bhad hilled and
wounded some unfortunate inhabitants of Rochelle, when
that city, which was near at hand, had treacherously gone
over to the enemy.  The people of Rochelle retorted by
hanging all the English they could catch. When the English of Benon were devising how to reply to the last move, a
great body of French besieged them in their tower. Resistance was obstinate, though the defenders were few, and the
walls not strong. At length the fatal time arrived; nothing
could be had to eat or drink; no help was near, and the garrison came forth, surrendering at discretion.  Clisson, the
cominander-in-chief, armed himself with a sharp two-edged
battle-axe, and waited at the doorway. As the emaciated
soldiers tottered out, he swung the axe and crushed in their
skulls.  When the blood of fifteen fainting wretches had
dimmed its shine, he laid the instrument aside, and left the
slaughter to inferior hands. It is not known whether it was
in horror, or with an agreeable facetiousness which gives a
comic name to a popular act, that the witnesses of this
achievement called him the " Butcher;" but it will not be
uninteresting for us to remember his feats at the gateway of
Benon, when we meet with this heroic character again.
Feudalism, in fact, was dissolving, and chivalry, which was
its poetic ideal, could not stand the trial of actual war.
Knights were still mere gladiators-sometimes more for show
than action; and gentlemen, in our sense of the word, were
not yet in existence.
Charles the Sixth, a child of twelve years of age, seated
on the throne of a kingdom torn by so many dangers as France,
presented a spectacle of helplessness and weakness which was
not long of being darkened into the deepest tragedy, by the
aberration of his reason and the loss of half his realm. His
three uncles, the Dukes of Anjou, and Berri, and Burgundy,
fought round the undefended crown like vultures round a
corpse; and for forty years the feuds of the royal family brought
royalty itself into danger. We need not dwell minutely on




A. D. 1380.]      CONDUCT OF ANJOU.                 129
that unhappy time, for there are few trustworthy guides to
any of the great events, all were so distorted by party spirit;
and men's feelings at length became so blunted by the perpetual recurrence of crimes and misfortunes, that the distinctions
between right and wrong were nearly obliterated, public orators were permitted to plead in extenuation of notorious murders, and massacre was resorted to as a legitimate political
movement.  The example of evil actions came from the highest quarters.  The Duke of Anjou was a pitiful villain, and
scarcely soared above the dignity of thief. He consented to
shorten the period of his regency, which he held as senior
of the blood, on condition of no inquiry being made as to his
appropriation of a vast amount of jewels and gold plate which
he had seized the moment his brother died. But all the jewels and plate in the kingdom would not have satisfied this
estimable prince, and he made the best use of the period of
authority which remained. He knew that the wisdom and
economy of Charles had amassed a large treasure, which was
carefully deposited in the castle of Melun-so carefully, indeed, that nobody but the late king and his confidential treasurer, Philip de Savoisi, knew the exact spot of its concealmlent. The Duke of Anjou paid a visit to the mysterious
castle, taking Philip de Savoisi in his train, and on their arriv~al he led the treasurer into a certain hall, and commanded
him to show where the money lay. Savoisi hesitated —a thing
which Anjou did not; for in a moment he ordered some hang —
men into the room, who presented themselves with cords and
instruments of torture.  Savoisi yielded, and pointed out a,
stone in the wall, which, on being removed, revealed bags
and boxes of silver and gold, to an incalculable amount.  Seventeen millions of livres, equal to more than a million of ourpresent pounds, rewarded the ingenuity of the duke, and he
put the spoil under watch and ward in one of his private
towers. Uproars occurred in many of the great towns, and;
the honourable regent was always at hand to profit by the event..
Rouen declined to admit the youthful king, unless on some
assurances of safety. Force was applied; the wall was thrownv
9




130             CRUELTIES AT ROUEN.          [A. D. 1380
down, and the child of thirteen, dressed in armour, rode his
horse through the breach, as a signal that the town was taken
by asault.  Submission was made, after great suffering among
the citizens.  Some were executed; but when murmurs arose
on account of the frequency of these displays, the regent endeavoured to satisfy the public by putting a stop to the headsman's axe, but made up for this concession to popular clamour by causing great numbers to be sewn up in sacks, and
thrown at midnight quietly into the Seine. Paris, at the
same time, rose in insurrection, and demanded the presence
of the king.  The Court returned to the capital, on condition
that the inhabitants should be disarmed.  Great acclamations
hailed the young king's arrival, and, with fitting generosity,
he granted the demands of the oppressed people, and presented them with a donation of a hundred thousand francs.
Happy people! liberal young king! The Duke of Anjou was
at his side, and put every farthing of the money into his own
stores. Fortunately for his family, thus loaded with the
wealth and curses of France, he soon departed fbr Italy,
where he had been adopted as son and heir by the infamous
Joanna of Naples.  This personage was now too old to marry,
and resorted to the system of adoption, to revenge herself on
her natural successor, Charles de Darus. Louis of Anjou,
it is pleasant to think, arrived too late; he waited to be,crowned by the French Pope, Clement, at Avignon, as his
rival candidate was crowned by the Italian Pope, Urban, at
Rome. The expectant mother had perished, before his coming, by the halter —the mode of death she had administered
to her first husband and many of her friends; and nothing'was left to him but a claim to the vacant throne. His ill-got
treasure was spent in support of what he called his rights,'which consisted entirely in the nomination of the late queen;
and in 1384 he found an obscure ending to a mean and dislhonourable life.
But things got worse and worse in Paris. Anjou had
represented the interests of petty larceny and the smaller
vices, but Philip of Burgundy shone in the nobler characters




A. D. 1382.]     PHILIP THE HARDY.                   131
of murder and ambition.  This was tile favourite son of
John, who gained the name of the Hardy by some insolence
to his elder brother, and who now, by his marriage with the
daughter of Louis le Mlae, Count of Flanclers, had added the
richest provinces of Europe to his hereditary state.  Under
his influence the whole power of France was directed against
the insurgent burghers of Ghent, led by Philip Van Arteveldt,
a son of the famous brewer who had been so intimately connectedl with our Edward the Third.  At Rosbec the crowded
ranks of the artisans were crushed by the charge of mounted
and heavy-armecl  soldiers. Forty thousand of them  were
slain in the field, and confiscation and cruelty reduced the
flourishing city to the lowest ebb.  Paris was daunted by
the fate of the unfortunate Flemings, and for a while submitted to the tyranny and exactions of its masters-surrendering
its arms, and giving up the right to the chains with which
they could defend their narrow streets by extending them
from strong stone pillars at either side.  This was the commencement of the system of barricades for which that loveliest and most tumultuous of cities has been since so famous.
And now that the public opinion of those days (which seems
to have consisted in organised bands of burly shopmen and
an easy recurrence to staves and paving-stones) was withdrawn, the guilty crew at the head of affairs did what was
right in their own eyes. Within five years of the death of
Charles the Wise, every vestige of his government had disappeared from the land.  His successor had been married at
sixteen to the handsomest and wickedest princess in Europe,
Isabelle of Bavaria, and social morals fell into as deplorable
a state as political honesty.  If we can imagine all the bad
passions that torment and degrade humanity, not only let
loose without the restraints of shame, but embodiecl in the
highest personages of the State, we shall form but a feeble
idea of the situation of France at this time.  The first conditions of civilised life were utterly ignored.  The Duke of
Brittany, in full peace, seized Oliver Clisson, the highest
officer of the Crown, the hero of the memorable massacre oI




132              CHARLES THE BAD.            [A. D. 13S8
English prisoners at Benon, and ordered him to be put intc
a sack and thrown into the sea. The nobleman appointed to
this honourable office hesitated to run the risk of drowning
the Constable of France, and kept his prisoner concealed.
Racked with fears, after his wrath was appeased by the reported death of his enemy, the duke was greatly relieved in
mind when the executioner confessed his disobedience. He
took a highly lucrative method of showing his satisfaction,
and exacted an enormous ransom from the man he had so
unjustly imprisoned; and the gentle Oliver returned to court
breathing vengeance against his captor. Our old friend,
Charles the Bad, continuing his career of infamy to the end,
instructed one of his adherents to go into the apothecaries'
shops as he walked to Paris, and buy arsenic enough to poison the king, the princes, and any of the nobility who might
be of the royal party. While gloating over the pleasing
prospect of such a noble banquet, he comfortecl himself, as
he was now chilly with age, by having a cloth wrapped round
him, after it was steeped in spirits of wine. The domestic
neatly sewed up the envelope to his throat, and finding no
scissors close at hand, took a: lighted candle to burn off the
ends of the thread.  Spirits of wine are very inflammable,
and perhaps his hand was not very steady, or his heart very
affectionate. The cloth burst into a flame, and the wickedest
and most unrelenting of mankind found a death which would
be melancholy in the case of any other man, but was only a
feeble and condign punishment for the perpetration of so
many crimes.
The Archbishop of Saon, compassionating the sufferings
of the people, proposed that the king should assume the reins
of government without the superintendence of his uncles,
Burgundy and Berri, whom he described in no flattering
terms.  The truths were so undeniable, and the measure
itself so reasonable, that no objection could be made. The
king was emancipated from the control of his guardians-but
the archbishop, good, easy man, was poisoned in a week.
Burgundy returned to his dukedom, and Berri went off to




A. D. 1393.]   ASSAULT ON OLIVER CLISSON.          133
his castle; but it was observed that all the ornaments of the
king's apartments, his golden candlesticks and ebony cabinets, had disappeared.  The houses of the discontented dukes
were known, at the same time, to be brilliantly supplied with
articles of the same kind, and of exactly the same pattern as
those which had been missed from the royal halls. Paris
looked with blank surprise on these extraordinary proceedings of the highest men ill the State. Law and order seemed
at an end, and the thoughtless king, and his extravagant and
beautiful wife, led the revels in the wildest excesses of luxury
andl show.  Oliver Clisson was at a brilliant ball at the
queen's palace in the. Hotel de St. Paul. At one in the
morning he was returning home, with only eight or nine attendants, when all of a sudden he was waylaid by forty horsemen, who assaulted him from behind. At first he thought
it a practical joke of the Duke of Orleans, and made no defence; but when he heard the voice of Peter de Craon, the
envoy and confederate of the Duke of Brittany, and the most
inveterate of his enemies, he knew his hour was come. He
resisted as long as his unarmel state allowed, but a blow
with an axe from the hand of Craon felled him from his horse,
andt he lay across the: narrow pavement with his bleeding
head against a door. The assassins hadcl done their work, and
Craon and his party galloped away. The Constable lay in
the silent street, and became insensible. But the owner of
the shop against which he pressed was a baker, and came to
open his door at a very early hour. The gory head fell down
in the passage, and the man was greatly alarmed. He pulled
the body in, and saw some signs of life. In a few minutes
the courtiers who had heard the news, the men-at-arms, and,
at last, the king himself, came in all haste to see what had
occurred. The baker then knew he had saved the life of the
Constable, and great joy was expressed by the spectators.
The perpetrator was well known. Peter, Baron de Craon,
was a nobleman of the usual stamp-brave and dishonest;
and having been intrusted with some funds by the Duchess
of Anjou to carry to Italy, in support of her husband's at



134            MADNESS OF THE KING.          Lx. D. 1393
tempt on the Neapolitan throne, had kept the money, and
astonished everybody with the splendour of his equipage ever
after. But the king at once perceived that a greater than
Peter de Craon was engaged in this assault on the Constable
of France. He declared vengeance on the faithless vassal,
and summoned his followers to a campaign against the harbourer of the assassin, for Peter had fled to Brittany, and
was received with favour by the Duke.  Oliver rapidly recovered his strength in the expectation of wreaking his vengeance on foes.  The Dukes of Burgundy, and Berri, and
Orleans, were all ready for war, in hopes of confiscations and
plunder, and Charles found himself, in the August of 1393,
at the head of a large army, marching through the deep forest
of Mons. The weather was oppressively hot; there was not
a breath of air in the depths of the wood. The king's life
had been full of excitement, and his health had never been
very strong. All of a sudden a dreadful figure rushed out
of a shadowy dell, and seized the bridle of the astonished
youth, uttering some incoherent gibberish, and telling him he
was betrayed. The attendants came up, for they had been
riding a few paces behind, but the madman or emissary of
some secret friend had disappeared.  Charles moped and was
silent, but in a minute or two a frenzy seized him; he imaginecl that he was surrounded by enemies-no false imagination if he had seen into their hearts-and clapping spurs to
his horse, drew his sword, and before rescue came, put two
of his pages to death. After a while the access of fury departed; he was easily mastered and disarmed; and France,
in addition to the ruin of her cities, the oppression of her
people, and the quarrels of her nobility, had now to mourn
the madness of her king. Glimpses of returning reason, from
time to time, enabled the custodiers of his person to advance
their own interests under his revived authority, but the royal
name was no tower of permanent strength. His nobles despisecl him, his wife deserted him, and often the haplqss
Charles was left to the charity of his servants for a mess of
food, while the shameless Isabelle was filling the palace with




A. D. 1393.]    STATE OF THE COUNTRY.              135
the sound of wassailing, or presiding at the " Courts of
Love," where the tender passion was treated of as a regulated
science; and princes and princesses, bishops and doctors of
divinity, were not ashamed to appear as pleaders before the
judgment-seat of the most abandoned woman alive. All
these things require to be dwelt on, for it is to this universal
corruption of manners that the national humiliation is due.
One by one the rallying-points of a people's greatness were
taken away. The administration of justice was suspended;
the dignity of noble rank was degraded; the honour of man's
word was at an end; the feminine virtues, on which alone
the future of a nation can be securely built, were unknown.
The people looked up from the midst of their abasement,
and saw no help even in the Church. Fiercest among the
brawlers for power, falsest among the breakers of oaths, were
the clergy, high and low. Men's minds were thrown loose
ifrom the steady anchorage of an unreasoning faith, when
they saw the instability of the rock itself, to which they had
moored their bark.  There was a claimant of their belief
(and money) at Avignon, and another, quite as loud-toned,
and quite as anxious for their contributions, at Rome.
Dominicans and Franciscans were fighting with unholy rancour, on the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception. Livings were kept vacant that the patrons might enjoy the
stipends.  Churches fell into disrepair; and the adherents
of the great nobles, and even the forces of the king, being
irregularly paid, levied black-mail on the wretched cultivat-ors, or helped themselves to what they required, as if in an
enemy's land.  The ties, in short, between the different
classes-protection from above, reverence and obedience from
below-were utterly broken, and never were re-knit.  This,
indeed, is henceforth the peculiarity of French history as
compared with ours. You will see gallant warriors, glittering princes, and obedient subjects; but the endearing relations which exist between a resident and popular gentry and
their dependants-between a landed aristocracy, exercising
both its rights and duties amid an observant and trustful.




136               STATE OF ENGLAND.            [A. D. 1393.
population, never found a place among our neighbours,
Their nobility was never anything but a military array,
till it sank into a titled courtierdom —men without pity in
the first character, and without dignity in the secondornaments, or sometimes opponents, of the Crown, but never
the natural-born leaders of the people.  The bitterness of
feeling against their oppressors, which rose in the hearts of
the poor in the reign of this fatuous Charles, and was
strengthened by the degradation to which they submitted on
the conquest of their throne and country by the victorious
English, never wore out.  Jacques Bonhomme had a longer
memory than his representative on this side of the water;
and while the descendants of Wat Tyler's followers were
comfortable church-and-king men, when the great trial came,
in 1793, the men of the Jacquerie were boiling with revenge
for centuries of wrong, and poured forth the concentrated
wrath of nine generations, on clergy, ioble, and Crown.
But for a long time there was a similarity in the position
of the two countries which must have led to the same results,
if the dispositions of the two populations had been the same.
Even in the minutest things the resemblance was carried out.
When the gallant Black Prince and the wise Charles the
Fifth left their sons to maintain the struggle carried on between themselves, both their representatives were boys of very
tender years; both were surrounded by father's brothers, who
weakened the kingdom by their quarrels and ambition.  Old
John of Gaunt, the uncle of Richard the Second, preferred
his interests in the crown of Castille (which he claimed in
right of his wife) to the interests either of his nephew or his
country, in the same way as the Duke of Anjou frittered
away the wealth of France in establishing his claim to Naples.
The harshness and cruelties of the Duke of Burgundy were
equalled by those of the Duke of Gloster. Even the fatuity
of the unhappy Charles was not less hurtful to his country,
or degrading to himself, than the thoughtless selfishness and
blind favouritism of the equally unhappy Richard. In England,
the safeguard against a total dissolution of society was formed




A. D. 1394.]       RELIANCE ON LAW.                  137
by the bold front assumed by Parliament.  Legislation, by
the reign of Edward the Third, had assumed the place of
force, and laid down principles by which all actions were
guided. It is painful to us at this present day, after so many
fruitless efforts to simplify the rules under which we live, to
read the glowing description of its former state by the great
historian of the law, Sir 1VMatthew HIale:' The judges and
pleaders at this time are very learned.  The pleadings are
more polished than those in the time of Edward the Second,
yet they have neither uncertainty, prolixity, nor obscurity.
So that, at the latter part of this King's reign, the law
seemed to be near its meridian."  The foundations of this
noble science were so deep, and its usefulness so universally
acknowledged, that the law stood like a fortress to which all
looked for support in the threatened anarchy.  Instead of
hiring an assassin to get quit of an overpowerful enemy, the
discontented party appealed to Parliament, and impeached
the greatest persons in the land.  The responsibility of members was established in this reign by the banishment of the
Earl of Suffolk and the Archbishop of York, for " certain
counsels they had given to the King;" and the position was
not obscurely stated, that a king who was dangerous to
public liberty might lawfully be dis.placed.
The weakness, however, of both France and England,
had the fortunate result at this period of preventing a regular
and continuous war. Battles were, of course, occasionally
fought; for the English garrisons of French towns were under
the necessity of displaying their nationality by raids upon the
surrounding lands.  French cavaliers, in the same way, nmade
dashes into the English pale, just to show that their horses
were as fresh as ever, and their swords as sharp. But there
were truces succeeding each other, and festivals on the borders
of the respective territories; and at last a marriage between
the silly English monarch and the daughter of the silly
French one, gave an opportunity for a more formnal declaration of peace.  Isabelle of France was intrustecl by her father,
in one of his lucid intervals, to the ambassadors of his rival,




'138             A PROPOSED CRUSADE.         [A. D. 1394.
and conducted to England in solemn state. She was not
of much use in sustaining or comforting her royal husband
for she was at this time only six years old; but her portion
of a million livres would have been of extraordinary value to
her new relations —if it had ever been paid; for nothing interfered in either country with the madness of display and
luxury.  In France affairs were worst.  In the midst of
national distress and divided councils, and unsettled governments, splendour held its way.'When an insurrection of
starving peasantry was expected, a tournament was held with
wilder dissoluteness of behaviour than before. The kings,
indeed, had a meeting where there was a rivalry of magnificence and fatuity.  Both nations were exhausted; men's
minds in both countries were uneasy with the feeling of some
great approaching change; and the chivalry of France, as
if judicially blinded to the results of their actions, took this
opportunity of advocating an expedition to the East, to resist
the approach of Bajazet the Turk. But this great enemy of
the Christian faith, reviving the fanaticism and ferocity of
the early Saracenic invasions, could only be successfully opposed by a united Christendom, led by the great chieftain of
the Christian Church in whom all parties believed. The Pope
of Avignon was acknowledged by the French, and gave his
blessing on the crusade. The Pope of Rome was acknowledged by the English, and would have nothing to do with a
proceeding countenanced by a heretical impostor. The only
glimpse of wisdom shown amidst the assembled kingship and
chivalry of the two nations, was a proposition submitted to
them by the University of Paris, to disown both the pontiffs,
and let Benedict and Gregory fight it out as they would.
But the Pope was still too useful a political instrument to be
altogether thrown away, and the knights of France, proud of
having the honour of so holy an expedition, unshared by
other nations, contented themselves with the blessing of
the pretender of Avignon, and wasted their lives and fortunes in fruitless marches and a disastrous battle in BtIgaria.




A. D. 1396.]     DEFEAT OF NICOPOLIS.               13c
The defeat of Nicopolis was as complete as Poictiers.
Royal prisoners illustrated both, and immense ransoms impoverished the country.  When the news of the calamity was
first whispered in Paris, the unfortunate messengers were
thrown into the Seine. It seemed impossible that John de
Nevers, the heir of Burgundy and Flanders, Philip of Artois,
the Earls of Bar and La Marche, John de Vienne, and the
Sires de la Tremouille and de Coucy, with ten thousand of
the bravest warriors of the West, could be slain or captured
by turbaned unbelievers. But the truth came out ere long.
Not more than eighty out of all that array of knights and
princes, returned to tell the tale.  The survivors, indeed, said
that Bajazet only spared John de Nevers-afterwards fatally
known in French history as John the Fearless-because he saw
something so sinister and cruel in his countenance that he was
persuaded his life would be more injurious to the Christian
cause than his death could be. The same feeling was perhaps
the cause of the barbarian's moderation to them all. He sent
them back to spread additional misery among their retainers
by exacting the stipulated sums, and lower still farther the
public estimate of the upper orders by the spectacle of their
meanness and unsuccess. It might seem that France, the
first of European kingdoms, the richest and most populous,
the country of Philip Augustus and Saint Louis, had fallen
to its lowest point; but beyond its present depths there was
a lower depth still.  The pageant tyrant who disgraced and
weakened the throne of Englancl was about to suffer the
punishment of his crimes. By a long persistence in cunning
and intrigue he obtained for awhile the mastery of the land.
Parliament itself was silent before his exactions and extravagance.  He imbrued his hands in the blood of his nearest
relations, and spared no lower heads in his assertion of supreme power.  The necessities of self-preservation produced
a leader in resistance who was worthy of the office. This
was Henry of' Bolingbroke, a son of old John of Gaunt.  He
had been arbitrarily banished, and now went back to England
to claim a restitution of his estates.  The Parliament felt its




140              JOHN TIHE FEARLESS.         LA. D. 1404.
power when it had a cause to rally round. It formally met
and deposed the unworthy king. If the deposition was soon
followed by his death, we have only to look to the whole course
of his idle and wicked existence to dry our tears for his fate.
A strong inan's hand now guarded the house, and all his
efforts were devoted to strengthen his position. Fortunately
for the land, he felt the want of a lineal claim to the succession (for his father was a younger son of Edward the Third),.andl comlpensated for the weakness which might be supposed
to reside in a merely parliamentary title, by increased attention to the interests of the realm. He extended good laws to
all his subjects, and put an end to the violence of the nobles.
Looking across the narrow sea, he saw what must have appeared like the shipwreck of a mighty kingdom. France lay
like a great hulk upon the waters, with maddened crew and
incomlpetent commanders.
But it is only by embarking in the vessel, and seeing what
was going on within, that we can judge of the insubordination
and danger. Philip the Hardy —Duke of Burgundy by the
appointment of his father, and Earl of Flanders by his marriage-died in 1404, and it might have been hoped that one
of the enemies of France was removed from the scene. But
scarcely was he cold in his grave when John de Nevers, the
prisoner of Bajazet, and ten times more ambitious than his
father, rushed among the contending factions, seized the regency as a matter of right, to the exclusion of the Duke of
Orleans (the brother of the king), and the shameless Isabelle,
who had pretended to be guardian of her husband's person.
Orleans and the queen retired from  Paris, and the reign of
John the Fearless began. Who, indeed, was capable of
resisting so strong-willecld and powerfula combatant?  In adclition to his predecessor's possessions of Burgundy, Flanders,
and Artois, be had secured as dower of his wife, Margaret of
Bavaria, the counties of Hainault, Holland, and Zealand, and
all the plains and cities up to the North Sea. His uncle, the
dissolute and grasping Duke of Berri, was governor of Languedoc, and his nephew Louis, of Provence. The family held




A. D. 1407.]     JOHN OF BURGUNDY.                 141
in firm hands the greater part of the country, and the fatuous
king was also in their power. England was never more clangerous to the independence of her neighbour when Edward
the Third was master of all her western lands, with the whole
force of his island kingdom sustaining him from abroad, than
John of Burgundy now was with so many strong places in his
custody, and the wealthy Low Countries backing him up in
all his claims.  But he was not above the arts of the lowest
deceiver, though apparently strong enough to attain his object
by open violence. He doffed his cap and spoke kindly to the
starving populace of' Paris, and commiserated them for the
oppressions they suffered from the extortions of Orleans and
the queen. He gave them back their pikes and staves, and even
restored to them the iron chains with which they could barricade their streets against a charge of horse, and was in all
respects the model of a demagogue of the vulgarest kind.
Meantime Orleans was outside the gate with a great body of
his retainers, and everything threatened the extremities of civil
war. But John the Fearless was a man of policy as well as
action. He easily gave in to a reconciliation with his cousin
of Orleans, and admitted him into the city. There they exchlanged visits and feasts, but fortified their respective-houses
as if in an enemy's country, and collected their friends about
them.  Isabelle, the queen, lived in sumptuous splendour in
the Hotel de Montagne; the king lived in dreary seclusion
in the Hotel St. Paul; the Duke of Berri lived at the HEitel
de Nesle; the other princes in the Louvre and their family
houses. Nothing could be more magnificent or friendly than
their mutual entertainments. On Sunclay, the 20th of November, 1407, a religious ceremony consecrated the novel
friendship of the contendcling parties. Orleans and Burgundy
partook of the holy communion together, and on the following
Tuesday they dined at the Duke of Berri's in the Hotel de
Nesle. They were in high spirits and very amicable all the
time of the festival, and at parting embraced each other with
marks of mutual affection, and promised to meet on the following Sunday at a dance in the Hotel c'Orleans. John the




4`2              ORLEANS MURDERED.           [A. D. 1408
Fearless had now gained his object.  On the following night
Orleans was supping with the queen. He was summoned to
go at once on important business to the Hotel St. Paul, where
the unhappy Charles wished to see him. He went, little
thinking what was to happen, for before he had gone many
yards, just when he was passing under a high-walled house,
which kept him from the moonlight, a dozen ruffians rushed
upon him with swords and axes, and the gayest and not the
wickedest of the French princes lay a disfigured corpse on the
deserted street. A figure, as soon as all was still, emerged
friom a dark recess. He was dressed in a cloak of rich colour,
and had armour under his gala clothes. He stoppecl and
touched the head to satisfy himself that all was over, and
quickly disappeared. The Duke of Burgundy next morning
went to see the body as it lay in state, and was loud in his
denunciation of the crime.  He attended the funeral, and
wept long and bitterly as the body was lowered into the grave.
But when the forms of law had to be gone through, and
some inquiries made as to the perpetrators of the murder, he
pulled the Duke of Berri to one side and said, " It was I that
slew the man.  The devil tempted me."  "Rash nephew,"
said the Duke of Berri, " you will have to answer for this with
your life."
But there was no risk of speedy vengeance overtaking the
Lorc of Flanclers and Brabant. He retired to his own possessions for a time, and then camne up at the head of a great
force of Flemings and other foreigners, and proceeded to justify his crime. A great assemblage was summoned ill the
H6tel St. Paul, where the king presided at what was called
the "justification of my Lord of Burgundy."  A talking,
pedantic, eloquent and avaricious Cordelier of the name of
John Petit, who practised as a counsellor before the courts,
commenced an oration in defence of murder. He ransacked
all history, sacred and profane, and brought the dagger of
Phineas, and the spear of Joab, and the smiles of Judith into
play. Limiting his reasons to twelve, in honour of the twelve
apostles, he accused the deceased of ambition, treachery.




A. D. 1409.]    THE MURDERER PARDONED.            145
magic and sorcery; and finally demanded an honourable acquittal of the patriotic citizen who had delivered his country
from a tyrant. Tyrannicide was never so openly advocated
in the tent of Brutus and Cassius. It was not to be a subject of apology, but of praise, and the reverend doct-or worked
himself into such virtuous indignation that he claimed a reward for his illustrious client, in " humble imitation of the
benefits bestowed on my Lord St. Michael for his putting the
devil to death." The king, who had been forced into the
throne, though not even in momentary possession of his reason, sat unmoved during the whole discourse.  Sad and
statue-like, he gave no sign of apprehension, and when the
business was concluded, was conducted out without having
said a word. Many sympathised, both with the king, who
was warmly attached to his brother, and with the beautiful
Valentine of Milan, the wife of the murdered man; but no
one dared to show anything but a face of rejoicing. Valentine lived long enough only to exact an oath from her children, of vengeance for the slaughter of their father, and died.
Among those children she included Dunois, who was afterwards so famous in the wars as the Bastard of Orleans, and
whom she loved as if he had been her own son. She used
often indeed to say, "I have been robbed of him, and now,"
she added, " no child of mine is so well able to avenge the
family loss." But policy was of more force than justice. An
accommodation was patched up between the king and his
rebellious vassal, and even between the orphans of Orleans and the butcher of their father. All that Burgundy
condescended to do was to express a wish in full court to be
taken again into the king's favour; and Charles, starting out
of his dreamy abstraction sufficiently to repeat the lesson he
had been taught, said, "Fair cousin, we accord you your
request, and pardon you all."  The children of Valentine
were less easily moved, and it was only at the express command of the king that they accepted the murderer's hand,
and did so at last with tears.
And now the Burgundian influence knew no check. In




144             BURGUNDIAN POLICY.           LA. D. 1410
his own country, he had trampled down an insurrection at
Liege, with such ferocious cruelty that the hearts of his subjects were subdued. In Paris, he played the part of a leader
of the poor; promised to take off their burdens; and gratified
the populace with a sight of the execution of the rich and
powerful. MIontagne, the chief minister of finance, glutted
the bloodthirsty propensities of the people, and the avarice of
the prince, at the same time. He was hated as collector of
the taxes, and envied as immensely rich. So he was tortured
and executed, and his money and estates divided among the
successful faction. Isabelle, the queen, began to perceive
that she was no longer on the winning side.  Gradually she
allowed herself to be gained over, and considered her victory
secure when the duke acceded to her request, and pronounced
her son, the Dauphin, now in his fourteenth year, capable of
reigning during the madness of his father. She flattered herself she was once more mistress of the kingdom; but Burgundy had already married the Dauphin to his daughter, and
was now appointed superintendent of his education. It was
soon evident that the authority of the father-in-law and tutor
was superior to that of the mother. Isabelle sank into the
second rank, and became more infamous, if possible, than before, by her attachment to the murderer of her former lover.
Meantime the young princes of Orleans were approaching
man's estate, and the eldest at this time married the daughter of the most powerful of the great vassals of the south,
Bertrand, Earl of Armagnac, a lineal descendant of Clovis,
and already a sworn foe to the Burgundian. When the alliance was known in Paris, John the Fearless prepared himself
for a struggle. He gave up the rule and management of the
city to the vilest of the mob. The corporation of the butchers, armed with knife and hammer, kept order in the streets
by indiscriminate massacre day and night. They dressed
themselves in a blue bonnet, with the St. Andrew's cross
upon their cloaks; and, in a short time, were replied to from
the outside of the ramparts by the party of the Armagnacs,
distinguished lby a white scarf across their shoulders. From




A. D. 1413.]       THE BURGUNDIANS.                  14o
this time there was nothing but mutual slaughter throughout
the whole of France. Men's passions were let loose inl the
wildest license.  Again the dens of villany in all other countries were emptied out upon the fated soil. Every city was
the scene of internecine contest; and it is painful to confess
that, in the midst of those dreadful excesses, the English
name is heard. The leader of the Burgunclians, wve are to
remember, was Prince of Flanders; and  Henry the Fourth
could refuse nothing to a man who might impoverish the
woolstaplers of Englancl by closing the Flemish ports.  Favourable terms for English trade were exacted from the Lord
of Ghent and Bruges, on condition of assistance in his
death-struggle at Paris.  It was for this reason the men of
Surrey and Hampshire were found in the battles of the French
parties.  With their aid, the Burgundians so quelled the opposing princes that they sued fdr peace, and the English
forces were withdrawn.  Yet it is not impossible that the reports carried home by those bands awakenecl the hopes of
Henry the Fourth, and his more adventurous son, of triumphs
over the faction-weakened land.  All the contending parties
were willing to sell their country for revenge upon their foes.
The spirit of patriotism and loyalty had entirely died out in
the higher ranks, and it was not known, either to the foreign
enemy or the domestic oppressor, what a warmth of courage
and love of country still glowed in the hearts of the common
people.
Henry was perhaps induced to turn his attention to the
affairs of France, in the hopes that military success would
give a new guarantee to the crown he had assumed. But
while in the midst of his preparations for a descent on the
distracted country, he was carried off by an illness from which
he had suffered a long time. His gallant son was more anxious than his father had been to win over the hearts of his
subjects by a restoration of the old glories of the Edwards;
but civil dissensions raged in his own kingdom.  The adlherents of the legitimate line were still powerful, and it was,
not till after two years of' vigorous government at home that
10




146           LAWLESSNESS IN FRANCE.    [A. D. 1413,he was enabled to look abroad.  The state of France had
grown worse than ever. No parallel can be found in history
so close to the condition of that wretched land, during the
reign of its insane Iking, as that of Oude before its annexation
to the English possessions.  Great hereditary landholders,
released, in both, from the obligations of law, had forgotten
all the principles of justice and honour. The noblest families
were engaged in secret assassination; rich persons were seized
in open day, and ransomed by their captors. Peaceful towns
and castles were stormed and pillaged without warning by
neighbouring lords. Even the bloodthirstiness of the Indian
character, when revenge for fancied wrongs converts the mild
Hindoo into a ravening savage, was more than matched by
the fiightful excesses of the knights and nobles who called
themselves the Christian chivalry of Europe.  First, the
Duke of Burgundy got possession of Paris, and starved his
enemies in secret dungeons, or drove them by thousands into
the Seine. Next, the Count of Armagnac, descendant of
Clovis, and worthy of that gory genealogy, retorted upon the
supporters of his rival, and hung and decapitated his enemies
till the executioners were exhausted with fatigue. Feelings
of truth and confidence were as entirely discarded as those of
pity and honesty.  There were frightful mutilations, and,nameless violences, and hideous tortures, inflicted in the wantonness of success by the alternate parties. It is almost a
relief when we read of the vengeance of Heaven let loose on
those depraved and dishonoured bearers of ancient names,
when the battle of Agincourt thinned for the last time the'bead-roll of the feudal nobility.. Henry the Fifth (himself
far from the model of heroic manliness we read of in the
magical pages of Shakespeare) sailed from  Southampton in
1415, and, after besieging and taking Harfleur, proceeded
across the country towards Calais. - Midway, at the village of
Agincourt, he was intercepted by such an array of mounted
cavaliers and princely enemies as had not been seen since
-Poictiers.  The same steady imperturbability as in that famous combat gave the victory to the yeomanry of England.




A. D. 1419.]   BURGUNDY AND ISABELLE.                147
MIassecl up in inextricable battalions, the great array of the
French nobles was incapable of moving from the narrow
gorge in which they were confined.  The earth was wet and
marshy from a fortnight's rain.  Horse and man sank beyond
the power of retrieval, and the yard-shaft of the English
archer plied its terrible trade, and knight and charger were
thrown into helpless confusion.  They could not retreat, the
land was so deep; they could not fight, their ranks were so
close; they could only die or yield themselves prisoners. The
list of the killed and taken is the most remarkable which
ever was the result of a single fight. Princes of the blood,
feucldatories of the Crown, warlike bishops, and innumerable
knights, perished on this fatal day; and yet the conqueror,
regardless or unconscious of his position, pursued his march
to Calais, embarked in his transports, and left the prey,
which was apparently lying at his feet, to recover from its
wounds and renew its efforts of offence. It seems to show
that the war, so glorious to the English arms, was not yet a
favourite with the English people, that the victor was forced
to pawn his jewels and private property to raise money
enough for each of his campaigns. It was not till the year
1419 that he felt sufficiently strong to lay siege to the town
of Rouen.  Burgundy, a traitor to his country, had aided the
English cause, and was reaping the fruit of his treason by
obtaining forcible possession of Paris. The cruelties of the
Armagnacs were repaid.  The mob rose with cries of " Burgundy! Burgundy!" broke open the prisons, burnt and
slew and drowned many thousands of the inhabitants, and.
tearing the Constable in pieces, carried portions of his body
through the streets; and, as a dreadful rehearsal of what was
to cone, they stuck fresh bleeding heads upon their pikes,
and made an assault on the Bastile. When peace in this
manner was secured, the Duke and the detested Isabelle
made their solemn entry into the city, where the miserable
king was brought out by his keeper to give them a friendly
welcome. While festivities were going on within the bloodstained walls, Henry the Fifth took possession of Rouen, and




148             DEMANDS OF HENRY.          [I D. 1419.
added publicly to his titles that of King of France. He
held-and in this was supported by all the lawyers who had
any regard for the safety of their heads-that the right to
the French crown was inherent in the English king, and that
the claims of the late royal house passed over to their successor along with the other attributes of the throne.
Henrv kept high state at Rouen, and was visited there by
the Duke of Burgundy and the shameless queen.  They
brought with them  the Princess Catherine, whom Henry
had taken this rough method of wooing. And though he
professed his love and admiration on this occasion, he rose
extortionately in his demands before he would offer her
his hand. Hie required a dowry of a million crowns, the surrender of Normandy in addition to the English conquests,
and sixteen hundred thousand crowns still due for the ransom
of King John. It was very evident that the English bridegroom would absorb all the wealth of the country, and for a
moment the Dauphin Charles made a stand,-the Dauphin,
or his advisers,-for that young prince was not yet sixteen
years of age. Burgundy threw the blame of the interrupted
negotiation on the party of his opponents, and prepared to
make terms for himself in the final spoliation of the kingdom.
Charles invited him to an interview; and after much hesitation, and many warnings of the peril he incurred, John the
Fearless repaired to the place appointed, which was a pavilion, built in the middle of the bridge over the Seine
at 3Montereau.  Each was to be accompanied by a few
friends; and there were barriers at the ends which neither
party could pass. John went with a few attendants into the
enclosure, and knelt before the heir of France. He bent his
unhelmeted head in deepest courtesy; and Tanneguy du
Chatel, one of the Dauphin's attendants, at that moment
crashed through the skull of the unsuspecting Duke with his
battle-axe; and the Dauphin, with his followers, retired.
Jolhn lay weltering in his blood on the spot where he had
fallen, and his train, when they had recovered from their surprise. drew the body away. Thus was the murder of the




A. D. 1420.]   SUBJECTION OF FRANCE.              14~
Duke of Orleans avenged, and another blood-feud begun between the houses of France and Burgundy. WVho now could
be safe? It was better to have a strong government which
could restrain all the contending factions, even though it consisted of foreigners and enemies like the English. Philip of
Burgundy, the son of the slaughtered John, acknowledged
the Englishman for his lord. Others gave in their adhesion,
and the treaty of Troyes was signed in 1420. By this, Henry
was to marry Catherine, to exchange the name of King of
France for that of Regent during the life of Charles, and
then to take full possession of the throne, to the exclusion of
the Dauphin. The Parliament, the University, and Municipality of Paris, agreed to these shameful conditions,
France was a conquered country, a mere dependency of her
island mistress, and looked for indemnification for the loss of
her glory and independence in peaceful submission to the will
of her imperious lord. Only one voice was heard in reclamation, and that was of Charles the Dauphin. He wakened to
a momentary feeling of the duties of his place, and appealed
against the treaty to God and his sword.




CHAPTER VI.
FROM CHARLES THE SEVENTH, A. D. 1423, TO LOUIS THE ELEVENTH,
A. D. 1.461.
WF, have now reached the lowest point of depression to
which a great nation was ever reduced and recovered from
it again.  A foreign invader has overcome all opposition, and
is acknowledged lord and master of the land.  Everybody
saw through the thin disguise with which Henry endeavoured
to hide his triumph from the eyes of his new subjects, by
calling himself Regent, and carrying on the administration
in the name of the king.  The name of the king was, indeed,
a subject of deep reverence in places where the courtiers and
sycophants of authority never turned their eyes.  In the
*midst of all his distresses, in his abandonment by wife and
friends, and now in his subjection to enemies and strangers,
the pale face of the patient and almost unconscious Charles
rose before the fancy of the peasants and townsfolk at a distance from the centre of affairs; and at this time, when the
nation seemed on the verge of dissolution through the inadequacy and weakness of its sovereign, he was talked of as " the
gentle," " the well-beloved."  The "'  ell-beloved," indeed,
is his name among French historians, and contrasts in a delightful manner with the epithets of his foes and kinsmen,
Philip the Hardy or John the Fearless.  These village talks
and patriotic tendencies had their effect in due timle, and
were found surer guarantees for the liberties of the country
than the debauched and useless chivalry which made its last
appearance on the field of Agincourt. If Henry, in his selfish ambition, did nothing for the permanent benefit of his




A. D. 1423.]       GREAT CRIMES.                   151
conquest by kindness or legislation, he was still the greatest
benefactor the French people ever saw, by scattering for ever
the horde of highborn robbers and oppressors who could
neither defend the honour of their country nor obey its laws.
When great political changes are about to take place, it has
been renmarked that they are heralded by the perpetration
of enormous crimes. These are the ground-swell, as it were,
which show the approach of the great tempest before the
wind is heard. Princes had put princes to death by cowardly
surprise or open violence.  The two eldest sons of the king
had been poisoned, within a year of each other, by contending factions. Great officers had been seized and imprisoned
till ransom was paid. Estates were forcibly taken possession
of, and held at the point of the sword, without even a pretence of law or right. In every county there were barons
who kept their retainers by the plunder of the surrounding
country; and prisoners-peaceful pilgrims or enterprising
merchants, who risked the danger of passing from place to
place-were inhumanly tortured till they yielded their stores,
or put to death with every circumstance of mutilation and
dishonour. Any observant spectator must have seen that
these things portended a change-that the forms of society
itself required a complete alteration, and that the time for
insolent bullies in steel helmets and emblazoned shields was
fairly past.  Romance and sentiment have unfortunately
obliterated the real features of that condition, so that we
look back through the magical glass of Ivanhoe and the other
records of a fanciful state of manners, and see nothing of the
actual scene. Sir WValter and his followers perform  feats
like those of the Mesmerists, who tell their adepts to see
flowery meadows or waving woods on the blank wall of a dungcon; or to hear enchanted flutes and delicious harmonies in
tile sharpening of a saw. But let us go to the fountain-head
of all these imaginings, to the contemporary chroniclers of
knightly deeds; or better still, to the authenticated statements of the sufferings of the weak and unprotected.  You
find no instance of generosity or justice. Moral feeling and




152           DEPRAVATION OF MANNERS.   [A. D. 1423.
Christian charities are choked up by the coat of mail.  Of all
the gallant array who fought and fell at Agincourt, not one
in twenty could write his own name. Du Guesclin himself,
after much labour, had acquired penmanship enough to write
Bertrancl, and no more. Reading, as a general rule, was
equally beyond their power, though there were instances, at
a former date, of cavaliers who could compose agreeable
verses, and sing them with expression to the lute. But anarchy and violence had deteriorated the race of nobles. Life
was too active and too insecure to devote any time even in
youth to education in any arts but those of horsemanship and
the management of arms. WVe need, therefore, only forml an
idea of what such a state of things would produce-relaxed
government, ineffectual laws, brutal ignorance, and remorseless cruelty-and we find its fulfilment in the state of French
chivalry during the reign of Charles the Sixth. It would be
easy, from Froissart and Monstrelet, to justify all that has
been said, but the results speak for themselves. A nation
saiw eighty thousand knights and noblemen as its champions
trampled under foot, and no man regretted their fall. We
shall come, in a future chapter, to another total extirpation
of a powerful and haughty class, and shall find that both dcleserved their fate, for neither performed their duties.
The Church, which by its theory was the appointed
guardian of the helpless, had no less fallen away from the
principle of its institution than the feudal lords. A palsy
had fallen upon its arm since it first lifted the sword and
torch against heretics in the crusade against the Albigenses.
Force, before that date, had been applied only to the Mussulman and idolator. From that time it was used against
Christians who differed in opinion on points of doctrine or
church discipline; and no trusting peasant or inquiring
parishioner could fly to it for refuge or satisfaction, for a
hostile neighbour might insinuate doubts of his perfect orthodoxy, and he became exposed to the Inquisition. While the
Church extended its claim to obedience by fire and sword, it
lost some of the arms which would have been of more avail




.A. D. 1409.1    THIREE POPES AT A TIME.           153
in its behalf. The unity of faith, which the inquirers of
England and Bohemia, such as Wickliff and Jerome, disturbed in many countries of Europe, received a heavier blow
by the schism in the government of the Church, which raged
for forty years. Two popes, one at Rome and one at Avignon, seemed a sufficient blot on the oneness of the Great
Shepherd's authority. But a greater blot was still to follow,
for a third pontiff appeared, and farther divided the obedience of' Christendom. Each arrogant pretender to supremacy surrounded himself with a court of cardinals who were
prepared to nominate a successor to their own adopted chief;
and the sight might have been presented of an infinite number of popes, for every minority of the electors seemed disposed to indemnify itself by electing a pontiff of its own.
France, torn by political faction, was saved by the wisdom
of the University of Paris from the complication which the
claims of such a divided infallibility would produce, and rejectecl the authority of all the three, regulating its own ecclesiastical affairs by the hands of its native priests and bishops.
At last, tired out by the contumacy of the popes, the dclecision of Christendom was taken at the Council of Constance,
in 1418. The three successors of St. Peter were deposed,
and Martin the Fifth nominated to the vacant chair. All
the nations gave in their adhesion; and as a thank-offering
for this restoration of Christian peace, the unhappy John
Huss and Jerome of Prague-who had appeared before the
Council under a guarantee of safe-conduct, to answer for
their heretical opinions-were burnt as deniers of the doctrine of transubstantiation, and maintainers of the sufficiency
of Scripture as a rule of faith.
The Dauphin seemed about as inadequate to the duties
of his perilous condition as his unfortunate father had been.
Thoughtless and self-indulgent, he appeared to have no appreciation either of his rights or of his hopes. Knightly
festivals, when he happened to have money enough to defray
the expense, and the society of joyous though disreputable
companions, made his retreat beyond the Loire take the sem



154          BIRTH OF HENRY THE SIXTH.   [A. D. 1422
blance of a party of pleasure; and rumours were not alto.
gether unheard that his resignation under the insults and
injuries of the victorious Henry arose from a cowardly regard
for his own personal safety. In spite, however, of his manifold faults and deficiencies, he was still the hope of France,
and rallying-point for all the patriotic spirits of the land who
feared or hated the English domination.  Bands of his adherents still maintained themselves in several districts of the
north, and occasionally dashed into the counties which owned
the sway of the Regent. Greater efforts were made, and
French spirit appeared to revive. Henry was at Windsor in
the early part of 1422, rejoicing over the birth of his son,
the unfortunate Henry the Sixth, when news was brought
him that a great battle had been fought at Beaug6, in Anjou,
in which his brother Clarence had been defeated and killed;
and that the strength of the Dauphin's army consisted of
seven thousand Scottish spearmen, under command of John
Stewart, Earl of Buchan. Buchan with his own hand had
slain the unhappy Clarence, and a great body of Scottish
auxiliaries were to follow immediately, commanded by Earl
Douglas.  The King was instantly on board, and hurried to
Paris. HIis two dependent kings were still in his power:
Charles of France, feeble and unable to resist; and James
of Scotland, close guarded in the tower of London, into which
he had been thrown seventeen years before by Henry the
Fourth, having been seized in a time of profound peace between
the nations, when quietly making a voyage to France in 1405.
His leaders were also all ready at his word, and more gallant
leaders never led the English array to victory. There were
Talbot and Salisbury, and Bedford and Arundel; and in
addition, the richest prince in Europe, Philip of Burgundy
and Flanders. He had little cause to fear the result of all the
efforts of his enemies, aided by the courage and animosity of
the Scotch; but while in the midst of his designs, in his
palace of the Louvre, the hand of death fell upon him. He
had only time to appoint Gloster Regent of England, and
Bedford Regent of France; to warn them both against Ie



A. D. 1424.1    CHARLES THE SEVENTH.               155
leasing the prisoners of Agincourt till his son attained his
majority, and to commit that infant of eight months old tc
the tenderness of his relations.  A pompous funeral took its
way through the draperied streets of Paris, and deposited the
body of the politician'and conqueror in the royal vaults at
Windsor.  The grief in both kingdoms was equally deep in
appearance; we cannot believe that France was sunk so low
as that the grief in both was equally sincere. In two months
more a simpler cavalcade accompanied the body of the helpless Charles to the tomb of his ancestors, and the stage was
left for the struggle of the new generation.
Charles the Seventh was twenty years old, and seldom
has fortune poured her gifts in the lap of one who appeared
at first so unworthy of her favours. Some men have honours
thrust upon them, and he was of the number. Nothing
seemed to rouse his courage or sink his spirits. Whatever
news of loss or disgrace reached him, found him perfectly unmoved. He was the centre of a set of gay young cavaliers,
who considered life a continued tournament, where he was the
happiest knight who gained the most prizes from the Queen
of Beauty, and fought in the most graceful manner with a
blunted spear. An old leader of the Free Companies, who
was afterwards a subject of patriotic enthusiasm under the
name of La Hire, could not understand the feelings of the
youthful king, and limited his praise to the statement, " that
nobody ever lost a kingdom so joyously."  The kingdom, indeed, seemed gone beyond hope of recovery. With no dissentient voice, the great assemblage of peers and counsellors,
lawyers, judges, doctors of divinity, and fathers of the Church,
crowds of citizens, and all the municipal authorities of Paris,
had seen the herald Montjoie break his staff of office over the
coffin of Charles the Sixth, and cry, "' The king is dead, God
save King Henry of England, our Sovereign Lord of France!"
Bedford had revenged the defeat of Beauge by a decisive
victory over the Scotch, and the French adherents of the
Dauphin, at Verneuil, where Buchan, who had been created
Constable, and Douglas, who had been named Duke of




156            JACQUELINE OF HOLLAND.    [A. D. 1425,
Touraine, were both killed.  Town after town gave in its
adhesion to the English Regent. Brittany had joined the
stranger, and Charles was reduced to a few territories on the
south of the Loire, and the hidden good wishes of every true
Frenchman in all the land. He was called in derision, " Kilng
of Bourges," as that little city was the chief part of his restricted dominions; but his name all this time ascended in the
prayers of all the people. The brave young king-the handsome cavalier-the descendant of St. Louis-the joy of France
-these were the ideas called up by his position throughout the
whole extent of his ancient kingdom.  The despair and
misery of his suffering subjects invested him with qualities to
which he had no claim; and love as usual worked its own
miracles, and saw generosity and nobleness in the most selfish
and indifferent of mankind. When the sky was darkest, a
little star began to appear. A quarrel arose between Burgundy and Gloster; and a dispute no less bitter broke out
between Bedford and the Earl of' Richelmont, brother of the
Duke of Brittany.
Jacqueline of Holland was the richest heiress in the
world, and all the hungry princes went off in full pursuit.
3Married in her childhood to John the Dauphin, she had lost
him by poison in 1416. Forced then into a betrothal with
the Duke of Brabant, nephew of the Duke of Burguncldy, she
refused his hand, and fled for protection to England.  Gloster,
who had as full an appreciation as his rivals of the charms
of Holland and Hainault, thought the safest way of defending
her from her Flemish husband was to marry her himself.
But the offence against morals and propriety was too open,
and the sanction of the Church was refused. Jacqueline left
her English claimant, and lost her Flemish one by death at
the same time. But instead of going back to Gloster, now
that she was free, she gave her heart and hand to a simple
gentleman of her States called Borselen, and the magnificent
Philip of Burgundy knew now how to proceed. He cast
Borselen into prison, and hinted unutterable woes, till Jacqueline, anxious to save the only one of her numerous husbands




A. D. 1425.]    THE EARL OF RICHEMONT.             157
she ever cared for, surrendered her princedom, lands, and
tenements to the overjoyed Burgundian, and retired to love
and a cottage. There she might have lived as long as she
pleased, but Gloster could by no means rest satisfied without
a portion of his late spouse's property, and put in a claim for
her dower. Philip kept fast hold of all he had got, and
turned benevolent eyes towards Charles, the enemy of England. Richemont, at this inopportune period, demanded a
high command in the English service; and Bedford, who
should have conciliated the brother of his ally the Duke of
Brittany, refused the application. He showed little knowledge of character if he did not expect an immediate defection
from the English cause. The King of Bourges was more
considerate, and gave the Constable's sword to the haughty
Richemont, who instantly went over to his side. He submitted to his guidance in all things, even to the dismissal of
some of his old favourites, on which the new champion insisted. He even made no scruple of sacrificing to the same
imperious mandate the lives of some of his more useful followers. Louvel, his chancellor, was disgraced without a trial.
The Seigneur de Giac was seized by force, sewn up in a sack,:lnd cast into the Loire, by sentence of a pretended council;
Camus de Beaulieu was assassinated by order of the Earl of
Richemont, without any council at all. The court of Bourges
was purified by these vigorous murders of the old set of misleaders, but was amply supplied by the same hand with a
fresh assortment of sycophants and buffoons. The Earl tried
to immerse the king deeper than ever in sensual enjoyments
and degrading amusements; and the Duke of Brittany, satisfied with the power his brothers had attained, withdrew from
the English alliance. Charles, however, was uneasy under
his tutelage, and rejoiced greatly when a defeat, sustained by
his unprincipled dictator in the year 1426, at St. James de
Beuvron, lessened his authority; and at last when old John
Talbot, in the following year, retook all the towns and places
he had seized within the English pale, no farther terms were
kept with the discomfited tyrant, and Richemont was uncero



158               ORLEANS BESIEGED.          [A. D. 1428.
moniously dismissed.  Brittany, however, did not rise in consequence of this proceeding, and the Duke of Burgundy was
quiescent, if not favourable.  All that threatened an increase
of danger to the national interests, was a report that the
famous Salisbury was coming over the sea with a great reinforcement of Englishmen, and that the war was to be prosecuted with the utmost vigour.
Charles, who was the Mark Tapley of kings, bore himself
with his usual jollity under this afflicting news, and was
probably excited to fresh ebullitions of satisfaction, when he
heard that on the 12th of October, 1428, the city of Orleans,
the best of all his possessions, and the only security of his
adherents, was besieged by a great body of his English enemies, led by Salisbury and Talbot, and all the rough Saxons
and Anglo-Normans whom these perpetual wars had raised
to fame. Gradually it became known that all the great
names also on the French side had crowded to the same point.
Xaintrailles, La Hire, La Fayette, Gaucour de Giresme, and
the Bastard of Orleans, had thrown themselves within the
walls. Trumpets and banners answered each other in deadly
defiance, and on both sides was seen the royal standard of
France; the golden lilies waved over the tent of Salisbury and
the citadel of the besieged. Volunteers from all parts of the
land, of humbler rank and deeper interest in the decision,
poured into the devoted town. The strength of the two
kingdoms was fairly matched, as in the case of Sebastopol,
and victory depended upon the result of the siege. We can
form no idea of the tremendous arbitrament dependent on
apparently so small an issue as the fate of a wretched little
city of twelve or thirteen thousand souls. But in all France,
and in all England too, the operations were followed with the
intensest eagerness, and hopes and fears alternately predominated as the tide of fortune seemed to flow towards one side
or the other.  Salisbury was killed at the commencement of
the struggle, and the French heart beat high. A convoy of
provisions for the besieged, guarded by several thousand
Scotch, was defeated and dispersed, the barrels of salted her



A. D. 1428.]       JOAN OF ARC.                    159
rings which constituted their stores being scattered on the
road, and giving their name to the engagement,-and England blew a note of triumph. Charles himself was at last so
far roused from his epicurean carelessness, that he advanced
within a convenient distance of the seat of action; —and
fresh summonses on the other side were issued for support to
the English force. The townsmen fought well; the gallant
cavaliers made brilliant sorties, but slowly and surely the invading lines were drawn round the city. The siege was
changed into a blockade. Walls were run firom point to
point, and strengthened at proper intervals by bastions and
towers. Pickaxe and spade supplied the place of spears and
arrows. And though the English, as usual, despised their
opponents, and undertook more work than their numbers
justified, and accordingly lost more men by over fatigue than
the weapons of the enemy, it was evident that their indomitable perseverance and brutal ignorance of the fact of their
being beat, would reap its common reward, and that Orleans
would fall into their hands. Now let us enter into the feelings of the French peasantry, when it flew from village to
village, at this time, that a country maiden of eighteen
years of age had been summoned by celestial voices to the
rescue of the country; that she had seen and conversed with
angels and glorified saints, who bade her fight for France;
and that captains, and knights, and nobles had given credence to her communications. Then they were told that the
Lord of Baudrecourt at Vaucouleurs had been visited by the
girl, whose name was Joan d'Arc, a daughter of small cotters
in the village of Domremy, and had sent her forward at her
own request to have an audience of the king.  Strange things
were told them of this audience: how that Charles, partly
for amusement and partly to test the reality of her mission,
had disguised himself in plain apparel, and dressed one of his
courtiers in the royal robes; and how Joan had gone straight
up to where he stood, and had said, " Gentle Dauphin, I
come to save the heir of France, and restore you to the crown.
Orleans shall be saved by this hand, and you shall be crowned




160              THE KING CROWNED.          IA. D. 1429.
at Rheims by the help of God and my Lady St. Catherine. "
Next it was told to the wondering people, and reached, at
last, the soldiers of both the hosts, that Joan, with the banner of France in her hand, mounted on a white charger, and
clothed in complete armour, was advancing to the Loire, and
on the 29th of April, 1429, in the sixth month of the siege,
bells were ringing, and cannon fired, and processions gathered
to the cathedral; for Joan, at the head of a great company
of gentlemen and men-at-arms, had entered the fainting city,
and promised deliverance within a certain time. Here was
a thing which the spearmen of Warwickshire, and the archers
of Nottingham, and the fighting chaplains of Bury St. Edmunds and Netley Abbey, could by no means understand.
They heard of a young maiden leading battalions of warriors,
and prophesying defeat to the leopards, and rousing a million
hearts by a few simple and noble words, and immediately set
her down for a witch. All over France by this time she was
known as Joan the Maid, and when the excited courage of
her followers, and her own example in marching against the
enemy, had scattered dismay among the besiegers; when their
intrenehments were thrown down and their batteries stormed;
and finally, when they were terror-struck by the supernatural
success which followed the maid wherever she appeared, and
hurriedly left their tents on the 8th of MIay, and retreated
beyond the river, it appeared that her mission was at an end.
But "No," said Joan, "I have promised to lead the gentle
Dauphin to Rheims to be anointed with the holy oil, and
wear the crown of his noble fathers;" and she rode off and
presented herself once more to Charles. The generals and
wise men all said the way to Rheims was impassable on account of the garrisons of the enemy, but Joan said she heard
voices telling her that all would be well; and at last it was
thought good policy to give in to the popular belief, and the
wonderful march began. The English were paralysed, — no
opposition was made to the heaven-guarded procession,-and
when the ceremony was over, and the rightful heir was placed
on the throne with the blessings of Church and people, Joan




A. D. 1429.]     POLICY OF BEDFORlD.              161
knelt at his feet and said, " Gentle King," —he had only
been Gentle Dauphin till the coronation was over, —'" my
duty is fulfilled. I wish to go back to feed the sheep with
my brothers at Domremy, for they love me better than all the
thousands I have seen since I left home."  But more work
was expected from the high-souled maid, and she was reserved
for a different fate.
From this moment the whole face of affairs was changed.
The honour of the land had been avenged, not by mailed
knichts and nobles of high descent, but by one of the daughters of the soil. The true chord was struck at last, and the
people felt that liberty and regeneration must come from
themselves. And well and nobly they rose in the great cause.'Talbot, the gallant and good, had been taken prisoner, and the
Earl of Suffolk and many other noble Englishmen. Nothing
resisted the oncoming wave of popular enthusiasm. Onwards
towards Paris itself the growing torrent flowed.  Saon,
Soissons, Chateau  Thierry, Beauvais, Compiegne, hauled
down the English flag.  From  Paris, however, the invaders were repulsed, and Charles, the careless king, retired
again to the Loire to listen to some overtures for a compromise which the Duke of Burgundy commenced. When the
first steps were taken, Bedford grew as distrustful of his ally
as of the French king himself, and hit upon a notable device to
attach the Burgundian more firmly than ever to the English
cause. This was to resign the regency in his favour; and the
moment the astonished Philip found that the English interests were his own, and that every sacrifice he proposed for
the attainment of peace would be at the expense of his own
influence, he would not yield a point, and broke off the negotiation as injurious to the dignity of his lord, Henry the Sixth,
by the grace of God King of England and France. The Regent Burgundy was a fiercer opponent of French independence
than the English Bedford. He besieged the town of Compirgne which Joan had taken and now defended; but her
feats were no longer inspired by the same high confidence she
had hitherto possessed in herself and her vocation. She was
11




162                DEATH OF JOAN.            [A. D. 1431.
as honest in mind as she was bold in action; and felt and
publicly proclaimed that her holy call was completed at the
coronation of Rheims.  Still the heroic heart remained.  She
fought among the foremost, and in a sortie was taken by
Philip on the 24th of June, 1430. And what was to be done
with the conqueror of so many fields, the deliverer of Orleans,
and Champion of the peasantry of France? Bedford claimed
her as a rebel to the English Henry; the Bishop of Beauvais,
in whose diocese she was taken, as a lapsed child of the
Church. At last the illustrious John of Luxembourg, to
whom Philip of Burgundy had presented her to make what
ransom he could, sold her to the English duke and French
prelate for the sum of ten thousand francs.  For four hundred pounds, England and Rome had the gratification of
burning to death a rebel and a sorceress.  It was so easy
to prove her guilt in both these characters.  She had
carried havoc with her sword among the English ranks, and
had heard voices in the solitude of woods and the gloom of
cathedral aisles, calling on her to buckle on her armour for
the rightful king. And there, before her judges' eyes, was
the actual sword which had done the mischief, and the armour she had buckled on. Nothing could be clearer to the
zealous Bishop of Beauvais and the other intelligent ecclesiastics who presided at her trial; and after an imprisonment,
embittered by many insults on the part both of priests and
soldiers, the noblest woman of all history was put to a painful
death, and expired by a slow fire in the middle of the old
marketplace of IRouen.
Write down this date, the 13th of May, 1431, as the
death-doom of the chivalry of France.  For many months
the Mlaicl lay in chains and darkness, and Dunois threw
down no glove in her defence, no La Hire offered to do battle
for her deliverance, and Charles-the Gentle Dauphin, but
most forgetful king-made no effort in her behalf. He feasted and toyed with knights and mistresses, but left the village
maiden to her fate. Only one princely heart in all the country
was touched by her miserable end, and that was the heart




A. D. 1431.]   NATIONAL SPIRIT REVIVES.            i6of Philip Duke of Burgundy, the main support of the English
claimant. He began to remember that he was a born noble
and a French subject. In both these capacities he felt the
shame of his present position; persecutor of Joan the brave
and simple, and enemy of Charles his natural king.  The
treaty of Troyes, which threw France under the proud feet of
her conqueror, rankled in his mind as first collateral of the
blood-and in the same year which saw the sacrificial fire at
Rouen, the Burgundian gave in his adhesion to the national
cause. Bedford, indeed, brought over the English pretender,
and had him crowned by an English bishop, and surrounded
by English guards in the cathedral of Paris.  But men began
to compare the two coronations; one, where all France put
up its vows at Rheims, and the heaven-appointed champion
stood with the banner of the fleur-de-lis in her hand-and
this, where there was no promise vouchsafed from heaven or
gratulation permitted upon earth.  Paris received the ceremony in stubborn silence, and Bedford saw his hopes of ultimate success destroyed. He restricted himself to Normandy,
the ancient apanage of the English kings, and from Rouen
and Caen issued his edicts, which, however, had no curiency
unless within reach of his retainers' swords. Charles, on the
other hand, rose up from his sybarite dreams, and bestirred
himself as one who at last was fighting for a throne, Wherever he showed himself the love of the inhabitants awoke.
In Picardy the peasantry rose up in arms; in Paris the excitable multitude were arraying themselves against their English oppressors. Dunois was master of Chartres and other
towns, and Richemont, the brother of the Duke of Brittany,
was again on the patriot side. Conferences for peace were
opened at Arras in 1435; but the English self-reliance as
usual kept the plenipotentiaries of Henry from seeing the
change in their circumstances. They stood on as lofty ground
as at Troyes, when Agincourt was recent and Harry the
Fifth had all the strength of England at his back.  A11 the
princes of Europe were represented on this occasion. Cardinals from the Pope and nuncios from the Emperor endeavourecld




164           TIHE PRAGMATIC SANCTION.    [A. D. 1435.
to lower the English pride, But all in vain. Bedford would
not descend a hair-breadth from his demands, and died when
he had given in his final answer. But the whole of Christendom was not to be kept in uneasiness because a king of
England determined also to be king of France.  Burgundy
stept into the place of leader of the negotiations, and made
his peace with Charles.  He claimed a small tract of country
to round his dominions on the Somme, and a formal disavowal
of' the crime of the Bridge of M[ontereau.  Charles resigned
the territory and disavowed the murder, and the first vassal
of the Crown was again the defender of the kingdom. Great
hopes sprang up from this reconciliation, and were not disappointed.  The English garrison of Paris was besieged in the
Bastile, and having capitulated on terms, retired to their
countrymen at Rouen.  Charles made his triumphal entry
into the capital in the November of 1437, and from  henceforth was looked on by all as King of France. Rescripts
dated from  Paris seemed corroborative of an undisputed
government, and once more the English were mere invaders,
holding some small portions of the land, but retaining them
by no title but that of the strong arm. The strong arm,
however, was weakened, since Bedford's death brought dis
sension into the councils of Henry the Sixth.  Parliament,
which was thoroughly English in its habits and desires, would
vote no supplies for what they considered a foreign and unnecessary war. Symptoms were already not undiscoverable
of the furious passions which gave such prominence to the
wars of the Roses in the history of England; and the French
king could apply himself without fear of interruption to the
internal reforms which the long struggle Ior existence had
made necessary. Two things struck him as indispensable in
order to preserve the independence of his crown: one was a
compromise with the pretensions of the Pope, which might
place some bound of separation between the spiritual and
temporal powers; and the other the creation of some regular
and reliable force, which should place him beyond the caprices
of his military tenants and the great feudatories of the Crown,




A. n. 1439.]   THE COUNCIL OF B.ASLE.              165
He therefore established what is called the Pragmatic Sance
tion, which guaranteed the liberties of the Gallican Church,
and established a standing army. By these two regulations
he took the power of the keys -from the hands of Rolne, and
the power of the sword from the hands of his nobility.
Martin the Fifth, who had been chosen pope in place of
the three pretenders to the holy chair, had summoned a council at Basle, in 1431, which had sat for some time with the
concurrence of all the States. But Eugenius the Fourth, who
succeeded ]Martin, wished for a council of his own; and on
the plea of facilitating the reconciliation of the Greek Church,
convoked a meeting at Bologna.  The council of Basle declined to move —declined to dissolve —declined to give up its
measures of reform. A religious war was on the point of
breaking out, when Charles summoned a National Council to
meet at Bourges. All the peers and officers of the Crown,
and judges of the tribunals, were there; a very august assembly, presided over by the king, who was attended by the
Dukes of Burgundy and Bourbon, and supported on his right
hand by the frail person and cunning face of his son the Dauphin, a youth of fifteen, who will soon be better known to us
as Louis the Eleventh.  His national reformation was very
moderate in its extent.  It re-affirmed the subordination of
popes to general councils; it bound the Pope to summon one
of those plenary assemblages at least once in ten years; it
secured freedom of election to the higher ecclesiastical digni-.
ties-the settlement at eighty of the number of cardinalsthe reduction of appeals to the Court of Rome —the suppression of annates and other payments to the Pope. It insisted,
also, on the curtailment of the power of excommunication, so
that henceforth that sentence was never to be universal in its
application, but limited to the individuals who had deserved
the ban of the Church. Eugenius the Fourth anathematisec
the Council of Bourges, and all concerned in these inroads on
the apostolical authority.  But the Council of Basle published letters of approval, and encouraged the council of Bourges
to persevere. The Pope was more recalcitrant than ever, and




166                   TWO 1OPES.             [A. D. 1439,
was only silenced when the Council of Basle deposed him as
rebellious to his jurisdiction, and nominated to the chair of
St. Peter, Victor Amadeus, a duke of Savoy, who had retired
from the cares of his petty principality to devote himself to
privacy and a life of riotous luxury on the banks of the Lake
of Geneva.  This rubicund recluse took the name of Felix the
Fifth, and prepared to do battle with  Eugenius.  But
France was contented with the triumph she had achieved;
and as she had gained all she wished in the diminution of the
papal power and the stoppage of the papal supplies, she declined to acknowledge her Savoyard neighbour as controller of
the spiritual interests of France, and continued her emptyhanded adhesion to the potentate who remained at Rome. A
plebeian prelate she probably thought was more easily dealt
with on the distant banks of the Tiber, than a prince-pontiff,
who might perhaps transfer the seat of his hostile and independent government to the banks of the Rhone.
The other great stroke of policy was the creation of a
standing army. Ecclesiasticism and feudalism had had their
trial and had failed. Each in its proper day had done the duty
for which it was ordained, and had lingered on after its active
utility was over. The Church no longer fulfilled its office of
comforter and consoler of the nation; and feudalism no longer
fulfilled its duty as defender of the land. The seeds of Christianity had been widely and healthily spread in the early time
of the struggle between faith and barbarism. Great truths
had taken root, which had never been eradicated from the
general mind; and even in the dark days of superstition, and
the wilder period of unbelief, the divine prospects of the gospel have had their teachers and disciples.  But the attempt
on the part of priests and bishops to Christianise the State
by investing the dignitaries of the Church with secular authority, ended by making the Church itself a secular institution. Prelates took rank with counts and marquises, and
were generally more worldly and ambitious than their competitors.  It was useless now for the oppressed serf to fly for
protection to a holy abbot or spiritual overseer.  He found




A. D. 1439.]      COMPLAINT OF THE POOR.                     167
the abbot with a sword by his side, and the spiritual peer a.t
the head of his armed array. Time was when the voice of the
gentle priest would have been heard in soft appeals against
the tyranny of the oppressor; but the oppressor now was a
priest himself, and the interests of his order prevailed over
his feelings as a Christian.   There are still preserved some
doggrel verses which, during the English occupation, travelled from cottage to cottage, and are inexpressibly pathetic in
spite of the want of poetic power.  It is a cry of distress and
agony wrung from the heart of the people.   They have no
longer anybody to apply to in their misery.   Poor Jacques
Bonhomme is without a friend in all the world, high or low,
and looks round on all the orders of the State with the same
miserable conclusion that he has none to succour him.
" Ah, princes, prelates, valiant lords,
Lawyers and tradesfolk small and great,
Burghers and warriors girt with swords,
Who fatten on our daily sweat;
To labouring hinds some comfort give,
Whate'er betide we needs must live.
Pity our faces poor and wan,
Our trembling limbs, our haggard eyes,
Relieve the fainting husbandman,
And heaven will count you truly wise;
For God declareth great and small
Who lacketh lkindness, lacketh all!"
More than forty verses are employed in running through
the catalogue of hopelessness and neglect.  All have failed
in their duty to the poor.  Barons oppress-bishops will not
interfere-knights will not defend-lawyers will not cease
from cheating. But in the utter misery of the "labouring
hinds' " condition, there now rose a hope. The king has received a crown, consecrated by unnumbered prayers. He is
the anointed shepherd of the people, and wears a sword for
justice, and a shield  for protection.   More visibly  Godappointed than the swaggering bishop who seizes their corn,
and at length guarded and led through difficulties and dangers
by a Maic whose words and actions reveal unmnistakably that




168               A STANDING ARMY.           [A. D. 1439
lher mission is from above-a Maid sprung from their own rank
of life, and devoting her courage, and finally her life, to the
strengthening of the throne-the monarch became the central
light of all the suffering population. It little mattered to
them whether he was personally a self-indulgent epicure, or a
vigorous ruler of men; to them he was the personified safeguard of the weak. If they had no arms, and no wealth, and
no authority, he had them all. No wonder, therefore, when
Charles, after consulting the States-General assembled at
Orleans, issued an ordonnance converting the military service
of the feudal tenures into a tax for the payment of troops,
raised for the national defence and commanded entirely by
the Crown, that the great mass of the people hailed the alteration with delight.  They were no longer to be exposed to
the predatory bands of ambitious chiefs; for any one found
in arms, unless the Franc-archers and cavalry of the king,
was to be considered a robber and a rebel.
The ranks of this national force were soon filled, and were
in no long time called upon to show what metal they were
of; for the discontented nobles, headed by the Dauphip, the
wickedest son, as he was afterwards the worst father in French
annals, would not surrender their monopoly of arms without a
struggle. The service they had been of in resisting the English, had awakened their hope of the complete independence
of their fiefs, and they perceived that, by this politic act, the
whole nation was enlisted on the suzerain's side. Glittering
files of helmeted cavaliers again took the field, and dukes
and princes gave the splendour of their standards to the rebel,cause. But Charles, who threw off the carelessness of his
character when great conjunctures arose, hurried into Poitou
and the Bourbonnais, where the enemy were strongest, and
-at the head of his faithful soldiers, and with the aid of the
peasantry and townsfolk, trampled the Praguery —as the insurrection called itself, in imitation of the Protestant Hussites
in Prague —before it had time to spread.  He mingled
honour and generosity with justice, and extended his pardon
to his ungrateful son, and to his misguided kinsman the Duke




A. D. 1440.]    INTERNAL REFORMS.                  169
of Bourbon. Accessions from the highest orders of the State
now came to strengthen the throne, which rested on the love
and gratitude of the people. Charles of Orleans, who had
pined since Agincourt in the chambers of the Tower, was restored to France by the pecuniary aid of the Duke of Burguncly, and continued the poetic studies, still worthy of the
highest admiration, which had alleviated his captivity of fiveand-twenty years. The nobility began to recognise the new
place assigned to it in the polity of the kingdom.  Subordination to a general law, and rank and influence for the benefit
of the State, these were what many of the greater vassals accepted as the alternatives of their position. But many could
not give up their hereditary notions of the private right to
work public wrong, and ravaged peaceful districts on their
own account. But Charles was no longer the unobservant
titular of Bourges. He took with him his more sagacious
nobles, and appointed them  to commands in his plebeian
army. The robbing and reiving magnates were astonished to
see their brothers of the peerage employed as officers of the
peace to arrest them for high crimes and misdemeanours, and
fear fell upon the evil-doers when they heard that Charles
had ordered Alexander de Bourbon, one of the most far descended of the culprits, to be sewn up in a sack and drowned
at Bar-on-the-Aube.  Another novelty was introduced with
still greater effect in his treatment of a captured town. He
took into the " royal peace" all the labourers, and all the
women and children, and all who should fly for protection to
the churches. The Praguery died out for want of recruits to
so unpopular a cause, and trade took a start as if a great
weight had been lifted off, when the roads were made safe,
and the exactions of the nobles forbidden. Fairs were established under the king's safeguard in many of the towns.
Charters were confirmed and renewed, and with a malicious
ingenuity privileges were heaped on the districts contiguous
to Normandy and the English possessions, and great commercial advantages in their intercourse with France guaranteed
to the inhabitants of Burgundy. It was a more certain




170            WAR WITH THE SWISS.          [A. D. 1444
method of conquest than sword and gun; and if the English
invaders had not interfered with the peaceful acquisitions of
the king, who was guided by the advice of the famous Jacques
Coeur, the richest merchant and greatest shipowner then alive,
the consolidation of France would have been complete. Commlerce would have scaled walls and filled up ditches which no
assailant could pass, and freedom of internal communication
and protection to industry would have sunk all personal differences in the one great temptation of forming a constituent
part of so secure and well-governed a realm. England occasionally made an effort to revive the terrors of its name; but
Henry the Sixth was easily daunted by difficulty and danger,
and Parliament was soon disheartened by expense and unsuccess. Talbot seized Dieppe; but the Dauphin and the now
regular army retook it in a short time, and the luxurious
English king and thrifty parliament thought it a good plan
to agree to terms. Here the French historians break out into
great rejoicings at the revenge their nation took for Agincourt,
and the forced marriage of Catherine of France, by giving
Margaret of Anjou to the son of Henry the Fifth-a hateful
woman and fatal to her husband and her adopted country, as
all French princesses married to English kings have been.
By her arts and ambition the troubles of Henry's reign were
embittered and increased. At this time, however, she was
but fifteen years of age, and perhaps might have displayed a
nobler character if she had fallen into more judicious hands.
A truce for two years was proclaimed on this joyous occasion; but the short touch of war in the campaign of Dieppe
had again awakened the evil passions of the land. Adventurers of nameless regions and every kind of arms were visible
in the neglected fields. Charles remembered the policy of his
grandfather the Wise, and proclaimed an expedition, in behalf
of the Emperor, against the revolted Swiss. It was necessary,
he said, to let out the peasant blood,-and he saw, with great
satisfaction, a vast body of freebooters march off to measure
swords for the first time against the men of Zurich. With
prodigious bodily strength, and the wild courage of mouna



A. D. 1448.]    TROUBLES OF ENGLAND.                171
taineers, the savage Switzers appalled their assailants at the
very time that, from the inferiority of numbers, they perished
under the assault.  But the cautious Louis, who commanded
on this occasion, took a lesson from the terrible day of St,
Jacques near Basle, and resolved on no account to quarrel
with those indomitable barbarians, whom it was necessary to
extirpate, old and young, as neither old nor young had learned
the way to yield. At the same time that Switzerland was
thinning the ungovernable swashbucklers of the Dauphin's
army, his father carried all the remaining ne'er-do-wells of
his kingdom to the siege of Metz in Lorraine. Metz bought
off the assailants with a large ransom, and Charles applied
the money to the enlargement of his regular force. He embodied bowmen in every parish, and so united the interests of
every little communityin the land with the feeling of national
honour. A certain number of these archers were to be furnished by every district, and, besides their pay while in service, they received exemption from all taxes and other contributions except the rent of theirlittle holdings.  This arrangement was in full force when an effort was to be made to expel
the English from the land. The opportunity was irresistible
and easily seized. The Court of London had become the
scene of crimes and artifices such as disgraced the reign of
Charles the Sixth of France. Margaret had already begun to
use her fatal influence. She had joined the party of the Cardinal of Winchester against his brother the Duke of Gloster.
Gloster was accused of treason, and found dead one morning
in his bed. Suffolk (the king's favourite) and the queen
made bad use of their victory, and offended the good feeling
of the nation. A tenure of the throne for fifty years, and
all the glories of the Henrys had not so totally obliterated
the usurpation of the family of Lancaster, that the claim of
the elder branch, represented at this time by the Duke of
York, was forgotten.  A usurper, to be safe, should be
generous and just. No prescription is sufficient to maintain
a tyrant on a throne he disgraces. The passions of both
parties were speedily irritated to the, utmost, and the white




172            THE E-NGLISH EXPELLED.        [A. D. 1453,
and recl rose were already talked of as emblems of the royal
houses. Thirty years of dissension and civil war were now tc
open on England, at th6 very time when the wounds of hei
great rival were healed. The parts, indeed, played by the
two kingdoms were completely changed, and though no Agincourt illustrated the French arms, their superiority was not
less decided. One by one the conquests of the English were
torn away.  WVherever the king of France appeared, the
gates, after a slight resistance by the garrison, were flung
open by the townsmen; and on both sides the understanding
was complete. Charles entered a city rightfully his own, and
had no injuries to avenge; the inhabitants returned to their
natural obedience, and had no danger to fear. He was not a
foreign enemy subduing them by force, but a lawful king resuming possession of an unjustly withheld inheritance. Privileges and rewards were scattered with princely munificence
among the newly recovered towns. A fervour of loyalty to
the Crown of France spread from place to place, ancl at last,
when the epidemic could no longer be restrained, the English
leaders yielded to the universal movement.  Ptouen, though
defended by Somerset and Talbot, capitulated in 1449, and
Charles made his triumphal entry into the capital of Normandy. In the following years he stretched his power over
Toulouse and Bayonne; and in the year 1453, when, after a
revolt of the discontented nobility who adhered to the English
cause, he finally, and for the second time, fixed his standard
on the Castle of Bordeaux, nothing was left to England of all
the possessions of the Edwards on the continent, the patrimony of the Conqueror, the dower of Eleanor, and the conquests of Henry, but the town of Calais. Glorious old John
Talbot had died in armour at Castillon in Guienne, fighting
with the courage of his youth, though more than eighty years
of age. With him died out the long line of great captains,
whom the wars of the Fifth Henry had formed. The swords
of Agincourt were covered with rust, and the island visitor
had given up the dreams of ambition, and sighed for nothing
but repose.  France was again a kingdom, the degrading




A. D. 1453.]   MARGARET OF SCOTLAND.               173
treaty of Troyes avenged, and a career of internal improve.
menrit was opened which needed only a continuance of patriotic
measures to conduct her to the noblest and happiest results.
We shall see how this onward movement was turned aside to
the profit of the most selfish of her kings, and how the spirit
of loyalty which the sufferings of the people and the vigour
of Charles had aroused, was converted into a blind submission
to the throne, and a general prostration of heart and hope
before the footstool of a despot.
As a fitting prelude to the reign in which he trampled on
the new-found liberties of his country, the Dauphin embitterecl
the last years of his father's life by his opposition and want
of affection. Affection, indeed, was a feeling totally unknown
to this man. Married in his youth to the beautiful {Margaret
of Scotland, daughter of the unhappy James the First, he
had succeeded in so breaking her heart, that, when she was
attacked with an illness which might easily have been cured,
she rejected the medicines presented by the doctor, and said,
"Fie upon life, speak of it no more."  She had indeed no
farther object to live for. A dull, brutal, selfish tyrant, poisoning all her enjoyment, and sneering with vulgar malice at the
high thoughts which he could not comprehend, he had taught
her to exchange the generous openness of her lively disposition
for a sombre despair in all things.  Poetry and hope were
crushed out of her by the uncongenial harshness of her hateful mate. One day in her early time she saw Alain Chartier
asleep upon a bench. Alain was acknowledged to be the
best poet and ugliest man in France; but Margaret slipped
forward on tiptoe and kissed his lips without awakening him.
i' Don't think," she said to her ladies, "that it is the man I
kiss; I kiss the mouth from which so many beautiful words
have flowed."  The Dauphiness found her only escape from
the machinations of the Court and the cruelty of her husband
in death. Charles himself had a similar disgust of life, and
produced by the same means. Already the fear of poison
administered by his son made his festivals, and even his common meals, a torment to him. The courage and fidelity of




174                JACQUES C(cUR.           [A. D. 1453.
the Scotch had induced him to engage the services of a
number of those faithful mercenaries as a guard. Louis hated
the Scotch-perhaps as representing courage and fidelityand proposed to one of his confidants to attack them as they
accompanied his father, in complete security, on some party
of pleasure on which he had resolved.  " I shall be there,"
he said, "' for the sight of my father's face seems to terrify
people unless I am by." What else he meditated besides
attacking the escort was never found out; for the confidant,
struck with horror, informed the king of the design, and Louis
retired to his principality of Dauphiny. About the same
time the services of the wise counsellor we have already mentioned-the great merchant and shipowner, Jacques Coeurwere lost to the State.  This man was accused of malversation in his office of treasurer of the Crown. He was said to
have heaped up incredible riches; and on some occasions he
made a display of his wealth, which in a great measure compensated for the evil proceedings, if such they were, by which
he gained it. He furnished funds for fleets and armies out
of his private stores, when they could not otherwise be had;
and continued his sage advice to the king, inculcating economy and repose. Charles was still indolent and self-indulgent
when no great national effort was to be made. He allowed
the prosecution of his faithful servitor, accepted the sentence
of death which was passed upon him, and only started up
to the kindness and generosity of his character when he remembered his services; and granted him his life. The rest
of the treasurer's story is very strange. Jacques Cceur found
refuge at Rome —was appointed admiral of the Italian fleets
against the Saracens-trafficked in goods and money while
sweeping the infidels from the sea-and died richer and more
honoured than he had ever been in Paris. The king must
have seen, when it was too late, that he had banished a financier whose advice on public affairs was cheaply paid for by the
acquisition of private riches. Losses accumulated as his age
increased. Though affectionately attached to his queen, he
had for many years loved the beautiful Agnes Sorel. He




A. D. 1453.]           AGNES SOREL.                    ].75
had consulted her on the weightiest matters of state, and
found her a counsellor worthy of him. The French for a long
time believed that the noble change which took place in the
monarch's character, and converted him from a cold-hearted
lover of pleasure into a brave and patriot king, was owing to
the indignant remonstrances of the favourite.  Francis the
First clothed this sentiment in these quaint and pleasant
lines"More honour, gentle Agnes, hast thou won,
For that thy voice our France recovered,
Than could be achieved by cloister-prisoned nun,
Or holiest beadsman to the desert fled." *
But the delicacy of modern times has induced some authors
to reject the assistance of so doubtful a character, and attribute the alteration in Charles's actions to a higher source.
Whether she was the inspirer of his great deeds or not, she
was at all events the person he loved best; and at this time,
when his son was threatening his life, and his counsellor was
removed, the "gentle Agnes" also was taken from  his side.
Darkness indeed closed thicker and thicker round the old
man. Louis retired to the Court of Burgundy, from which he
meditated mischief against his father and his native land;
and though Charles kept up the appearance of activity, and
even of ambition, by entering into a contest for the supremacy of Italy, and accepting the sovereignty of Genoa, his
heart was no longer in the glory of arms or the strengthening
of his kingdom.  For whose benefit would all his labours be?
At length in 1461, when his realm was placid, and all the
storms which had agitated his first appearance were apparently quelled, the broken-hearted father and very desolate
king died by what was almost a voluntary death. He abstained from food for six days, in the fear that Louis had
* "Gentille Agnes, plus d'honneur tu merites,
La cause etant de France recouvrer,
Que ce que peut dedans un cloitre ceuvrer,
Clause nonain ou bien devot hermite."




176              DEATH OF CHARLES.         [A. D. 1461.
bribed his cook, and might thereby heap the guilt of parricide
on his soul; and the Dauphin-in the midst of his life of
deceit and hypocrisy, as a guest more honoured than desired
at Ghent-was suddenly informed that his object was attained without an additional crime, and that he was King of
France.




CHAPTER VII.
FROM LOUIS THE ELEVENTH, A. D. 1461, TO HIS DEATH, A. D. 1483.
Louis the Eleventh was nine-and-thirty years of age when
he began to reign. His conduct had been long enough before
tilhe world to allow all men to form an estimate of his character; and it was therefore with no feelings of gratification
that the nobles, whom his father had led -in war, and asso-.
ciated with in the dignified solemnities of peace, beheld a
person placed at the head of affairs on whom neither war nor,
pleasure seemed to have any effect;-a cold-blooded, watchful, unscrupulous tyrant, whose steps, like the tiger's, were
noiseless, and whose object was only known by the rapid!
spring when he had got within distance, and the shriek of the
victim.  This man's character, strangely compounded of sagacity and superstition, of relentless cruelty and humorous
peculiarities, has been the theme of novelists and poets; and
though, for the purpose of dramatic action, his extraordinary
qualities are brought into more startling contrast than ever
occurs in real life, the judgment of history confirms that of
fiction, that a more unlovable, untrustworthy, bad-hearted.
man, and selfish, unprincipled ruler, never was known in any
country, nor any one who had so injurious an influence on
the future progress and rational liberty of mankind.  Charles.
the Wise would halve founded the greatness of his kingdom
on the elevation of the great body of the people. Henry the
Fourth would have attained the same object by attaching a
chivalrous nobility by mutual interests to the support of a
l)opular throne; but this man commenced his reign with a
12




178            SUBMISSION TO THE POPE.    [A. D. 1461.
determination to humble all classes alike-to make his nobles
servants and his people slaves.  It will be interesting to
watch the steps he took; for it is as well to understand the
methods by which liberty is either destroyed if it exists, or
repressed if it threatens to appear. It is not impossible that
in the history of our own time the struggle between power
nmd independence may reappear under only slightly modified
forms; and we shall be -able to guess at the principle of both
parties when we see what their earliest movements are.
Louis cast his ill-omened eves around the land he was
now about to " bring into order," and was alarmed at the
condition of the national church.  A  national church it
really deserved to be called; for, while confessing the superiority of Rome in antiquity and rank, it: rested firmly on the
decision of the Council of Basle, and acknowledged a power
superior to the Holy See. It defended, also, freedom of election to vacant benefices, and refused the annates, or first
year's income of bishoprics and incumbencies, to the exchequer
of the Pope. Louis saw that the first advance against the
citadel of civil liberty was a return to the obedience of Rome.
He gave up at once all the franchises and exemptions wrung
with such difficulty by the Church of France.  He placed it
again, bound hand and foot, under the heel of the successors
of St. Peter, and even gave advantages to the ecclesiastical
ruler which he had never held before. In return for this, the
faithful son of the Church was sure of the Pontiff's support.
He was a king who could do no wrong; for though he oppressed his subjects, and deceived his friends, and murdered
his enemies by treachery, he had shown a most religious regardl for the interests of the Papacy, and was honoured with
the title, which his successors have retained, of " The most
Christian King." The least Christian monarch of his time
being elevated by popish gratitude to this lofty position, it
was only left for the adulation of the courtiers to bestow upon
the most ungraceful and undignified of rulers the title of' Majesty."  This great word had not yet been applied to the
persons of the sovereigns of Europe; but Louis the Eleventh




A. D. 1465.1    ARCHERY DISCOURAGED.                179
set the example of claiming the highest-sounding and leastdeserved epithets, and cheated and grovelled through a long
reign of trickery and meanness as His AMajesty the most Christian King,.  When the Church was again governed by a
foreign master, whom it was easy for the king to win over to
his side, the next important step in the progress of his design
was to render the people powerless. For this purpose he did
away with the Franc-archers of the previous reign. No village was allowed its butts and shooting-grounds.  The parish
was relieved of the expense of finding' an'" archer good" for
the interior defence of the country, and the spirit of emulation in warlike sports was discouraged.  But the land was
not to be left unprotected.  So in addition to his Scottish
allies, he took into his pay large bodies of Swiss mercenaries,
whose valour had struck him with such admiration at the
battle of St. Jacques near Basle. He now more than doubled
the taxes; and as, although saving and grasping from personal disposition, he was liberal and even generous from policy,
he derived great support from the absence of a home force of
his own subjects, and the devoted adhesion of penniless mountaineers from the two poorest and most courageous populations in Christendom. We will'only insert a word of surprise here with regard to the Swiss, that a people who are
honoured throughout the world for the defence of their liberties at home, should be the scorn and shame of all generous
minds by furnishing their strength and valour for the maintenance of the worst tyrannies abroad.
The nobility saw the object of the king, and took arms to
prevent the extinction of their order and the diminution of
their individual power. A cry is never wanting when people
are determined to quarrel, and as the feudal chiefs could not,
with any decency, state openly the reasons of their opposition,
they placed it upon the two grounds of the sacrifice of French
ecclesiastical liberty by the abrogation of the Pragmatic
Sanction, and the intolerable weight of taxation which the
new king had imposed.  This, therefore, was called the War
of the Public Good. Princes andc feudatories, and all who




180              MANNERS OF LOUIS.           [A. D. 146 5
had a lingering regard for the grand oldcl days of license and
free quarters, took up the patriotic cause. Charles of France,
the king's brother, was the nominal chief, but the real
head of this league was Charles the Rash, at this time called
Count of Charolais, eldest son of the good Philip, Duke of
Burgundy. In the list besides him were read the names of
St. Pol, Brittany, Lorraine, Alenqon, Bourbon, Armagnac, and
Dunois. In short, the two parties were perfectly aware of each
other's intentions, and met face to face. If the league succeeded, Louis's life would have been short, and a regency was
openly promised. If Louis was successful, farewell to the great
nobility, its independent power and hereditary magnificence;
it must sink into an ornament of the court, or be exterminated
altogether. It was the life of one or the other which lay
upon the scales; and though the swords were sharpest, and
the cause apparently the freest, on the side of the great vassals, the cunning, the policy, the perseverance, were all on
the side of the king.  Suddenly the oppressors of the towns
and the harsh masters of country populations, affected a deep
interest in the common weal.  With haughty condescension
they assumed the championship of the overburdenecl Commons, and kept them at the same time from coming "'between the wind and their nobility," as if contact with them
would have stained their coats of arms.  But Louis, dressed
in very undignified apparel, looked like a small shopkeeper,
and affecting no airs of grandeur or superiority, entered into
familiar talk with any well-to-do citizen he encountered,
joked with him  about his family, poked him under the ribs
to give emphasis to his innuendoes, and strolled off to have a
merry conversation with somebody else. Nobody could believe that so free-spoken a gentleman cared less for the common people than the Prince of Charolais, who would have put
a townsman to death if he had stood in his way; and in a
short time the people liked better to pay taxes to a man who
put them at their ease, than to owe their deliverance to a set
of champions who despised them in their hearts, and insulted
them in their manners. Louis saw his advantage, and after




A. D. 1467.]   TREATMENT OF THE NOBLES.            181
trying to gain his obj'ect by a battle with the confederates at.lontlhery, where neither party was decidedly victorious, he
suddenly discovered that the imposts he had laid on his
dearly-beloved subjects had been advised by evil counsellors,
and took off every payment which had been exacted since the
time of Charles the Seventh. Poor man! he had never heard
that his good Parisians and affectionate gossips of Tours were
discontented with the amount. Why hadn't they spoken
before?   Tender-hearted, excellent Louis the Eleventh!
-W~hen he had thus soothed the pecuniary sufferings of his'subjects, he put on his very simplest manner, got into a little
boat, and paid a visit almost unattended to his clear friend
and near kinsman, the Count of Charolais. Who could resist
such a mark of confidence and friendship?  Louis bestowed
on the chiefs of the conspiracy everything they asked; never
hesitating for a moment, as indeed there was no occasion to
do, for he had made up his mind to take everything back
again on the first opportunity.  He gave away towns and
governments and offices, and as a parting gift presented the
Count St. Pol, of the Imperial House of Luxembourg, who
was the favourite of the passionate and jealous Charolais,
with the sword of Constable of France. The Constable and
Charolais hated each other ever after, which was the only
object the king had in view. For consistency's sake, they
insisted on his pretending to re-establish the Pragmatic
Sanction; but beyond this the cry of the Public Good was
never heard. And Louis commenced anew.
He must have had as much enjoyment in the game he
now played as if it had been a game of chess. How to move
a castle to resist a knight, or a number of pawns to surround
a bishop, how to keep Normandy in order by stirring up the
enmity of Brittany, how to paralyse the motions of the young
Duke of Burgundy-for in 1467 Charolais succeeded his
father-by exciting insurrections among the men of Liege:
these were the problems worked out in the solitude of his.
own thoughts; for he boasted that he formed all his plans
without the aid of others. The 1Marshal de Breze said ac



182              CARDINAL LA BALUE.          [A. D. 1467
cordingly, that " the horse the king rode was a much stronger
animal than it looked, for it carried the whole Council on its
back."  The results of the deliberations of this unanimous
assemblage were soon visible in the vengeance which fell on
the heads of the late confederacy. Charles of France, when
all the others were getting lofty offices and rewards, had been
presented with the Dukedom of Normandy.  The people of
Rouen, who had at first taken part against the Crown, received the first prince of the blood with acclamations, as a
champion of their cause: and the king determined to show
them they had chosen the wrono side. He raised an army,
and hurried down to Caen; bought and bullied the Duke of
Brittany, whom he found in that town, out of his friendship
with Charles; and then fell upon the capital of the duchy,
as if it had been in open rebellion. His right-hand man on
this, as on similar occasions, was the famous Tristan l'Hermite, the executioner.  Tristan's hands were soon full, for
the king, with a vigorous impartiality which showed he was
not a bigot to either side, cut off the heads of the aristocracy who had helped the princes, and threw hundreds of the
commonalty, who had grumbled at his taxes, into the Seine.
The Church, which he had bougnht over by the sacrifice of the
Pragmatic Sanction, and still kept in awe by threatening to
restore it-as he had engaged to do by the treaty with the
Leaguers-was next to be taught that, however much he
prized its friendship as a politician, its loftiest officers were
the mere creatures of his breath.  The system he pursued of
excluding the higher orders from civil employments, had
been introduced into ecclesiastical affairs. Wherever the
sharp eye of Louis detected a fitting instrument for his purpose in the person of a penniless adventurer, or townsman of
the lowest rank, he was very soon invested with the necessary
authority, and perverted justice in the character of President
of a court, or vilified religion in the office of a Bishop. The
son of a small tradesman of the name of La Balue, had early
shown such amazing want of principle combined with quickness of talent and audacious self-reliance, that he gained the




A. D. 146s.]  LOUIS VISITS CHARLES THE RASH.       183
notice of the king, then his confidence, then his friendship.
The Pope made great efforts to win over this ornament of
the faith, who was now Bishop of Evreux, and promised him
the cardinal's hat if he persuaded his master to enregister
the suppression of the Pragmatic Sanction in the rolls of
parliament; and in foolish reliance on the promises of La
Balue, sent him the blushing sign of his dignity before the
service was performed. La Balue relaxed in his endcleavours,
as his wages were already received, and gained additional
favour with the king for ceasing to trouble him on the subject. The favour continued for a long time, but at last,
when Louis, in reliance on his powers of persuasion, and the
counsels of his friends, trusted himself again within the power
of Charles of Burgundy, and hoped to win him over as he
had done in the former interview which destroyed the League
of the Public Good, the advice given by the cardinal was found
to lead to very dangerous results.  The king had no sooner
entered the town of Peronne, where the Rash Duke resided,
-than he found the trap he had fallen into.  The vassal treated him as an enemy in his power, and gave evident indications
of the violence he might have recourse to.  Louis smiled,
and flattered and promised in vain. One day it was reported
to the duke that the men of Liege were in rebellion, that
they were murdering his officers, and throwing off their allegiance, and that French agents in the pay of the king were
prominent as ringleaders in the revolt. Louis's life hung by
a single thread.  He humbled himself in the dust, and accepted his host's invitation to accompany the army which
was appointed to punish the citizens. He had, unfortunately,
forgotten to tell his emissaries to remain quiet while he was
in the duke's castle, and now the danger was growing with
every hour.  Before further discoveries were made, Louis put
on the uniform of his subject, and cried, " Burgundy for ever! "
as loud as the commonest soldier. Liege was taken, and the
slaughter was dreadful. Louis encouraged the murders, to
hide his complicity in the resistance; and after further humiliations and many faithful promises, he found himself once




184         HE IS ILL RECEIVED IN PARIS.  [A. D. 1468
more safe in his own kingdom. Here strange discoveries
awaited him. He intercepted letters from his favourite the
cardinal. HIe found that his friend and gossip was the friend
and gossip also of the Duke of Burgundy, the adviser of all
that had happened at Peronne, especially of his forced presence at the siege, the degrading clauses of the final treaty,
and the general harshness of his treatment. He found at
the same time that the cardinal was in correspondence with
his brother Charles, late leader of the League, who was still
in resistance to his authority; and, in short, that he was betrayedl in every point. The king was offended at the perjury
of his subject, but the man was a thousand times more angry
at the error in his judgment.  The son of the tailor, in the red
stockings, had outwitted the son of St. Louis with the crown
on his head. La Balue, though prince of the Church and
bishop of a diocese, was imprisoned in an iron cage, about
eight feet square, and kept like a wild beast in his den for eleven
years in the castle of Loches. All that can be said in extenuation of this pitiless proceeding was, that the man was the
disgrace of his order and his country, and that the instrument of his torture (as the natural justice of mankind is so
prone to make out in other instances) was of his own invention.
Nothing seemed either above or below the vengeance of
the humiliated king. In those days there were no newspapers to find fault with public men, or witty publications to
make them ridiculous; but the citizens of Paris had supplied
the place of their Times and Punch by teaching an infinite
number of jays and magpies, which they hung in cages along
the line of the king's first entrance into the city after his escape from Burgundy, to utter the word "'Peronne," with
uncomplimentary epithets applied to Louis himself.  Tristan
l'Hermite was immediately busied in vindicating the royal
honour.  The necks of the unfortunate birds were unmercifully wrung, and the liberty of the press was at an end.
Princes, cardinals, townsmen, and mocking-birds, all felt the
strength of the relentless hand, which sometimes wielded a




A. D. 1469.]   THE ORDER OF ST. MICHAEL.           18a
sword, and sometimes only flourished a whip.  But there
were some institutions, as well as individuals, which it was
now his purpose to get within his power. Edward the Third
of England, reposing upon the laurels of Crecy, had founded
the Order of the Garter in 1349.  John of France, in rapid
imitation, as we have already seen, founded the Order of the
Star. Philip of Burgundy had founded the Order of the
Golden Fleece in 1430, and the principles of all these lordly
confederations were derived from the ideas of chivalry which
the romances had spread among the people.  They were to
be brotherhoods of noble knights, bound together by the bonds
of mutual honour; they were to succour the weak, bridle the
strong, and pay honour, as they fantastically expressed it, by
purity of life and courage of conduct, to God andl their ladies.
But the Garter was a foreign badge; the Golden Fleece was
a symbol of his subject and liegeman; the Star had fallen
into disrepute from his promiscuous distribution among the
favourites of the Crown; and Louis the Eleventh determined
on instituting  an order of chivalry himself. It was to be select in its membership, limited in its number, generous in its
professions, and he fondly hoped the Garter and Fleece would
soon sink into insignificance compared to the Order of St.
Michael. The first brethren were named from the highest
families in France; the remaining great feudatories, who had
preserved some relics of their hereditary independence, were
fixed upon to wear this mark of the suzerain's friendship.
But when they came to read the oaths of admission, thev
found that the Order of St. Michael was in reality a bond of
stronger obligation than the feudal laws had ever enjoined.
It was a solemn association for the prevention of disobedience to the sovereign.  The members were to swear submission in all things to the chief of the Order; they were to enter
into no agreements with each other, or any one else, without the king's consent; they were to submit to such punishment, in case of breach of the rules, as the Order might ap-,
point; and, in short, the brotherhood of noble knights sank,
in the degrading treatment of its founder, into a confederation




186         WAR OF THE ENGLISH ROSES.  [A. D. 14,69
of spies. Armed with this new weapon, the king tried its effect
on the Duke of Brittany, who was discontented with many
things that had occurred. If he accepted, he would be bound
by the statutes; if he refused, it would be an insult to the
dignity of the king.  The duke temporised, and consulted
the Duke of Burgundy.  The fiery Charles saw through the
design, and swore to defend his neighbour in case of a quarrel
with the Crown. Louis, nothing daunted, sent the collar of
the Order to Burgundy himself. Burgundy refused it, and
Louis's object was gained. He discovered who was bold or
strong enough to stand out against him, and the war began.
Not openly-it was not yet time to make it a matter of national honour-but the angry subject and hostile king were
perfectly aware of each other's designs. Their animosity first
broke out in thle sides they chose in the great struggle then
going on in England, called the Wars of the Roses. Edward
of York, representing the direct line of Edward the Third,
had taken arms against the feeble and dissolute Henry the
Sixth of' the Lancastrian house.  Margaret of Anjou had
mingled in the fray, and embittered it. We know how fortune alternately swayed to the red and the white of the emblematic flowers. Warwick, who is known in our history as
the King-maker, had just established Edward the Fourth on
the throne, and then failed, when he had quarrelled with the
monarch he had set up, in restoring Henry. While preparing an expedition for this purpose in France, he had fitted out
privateers, who enriched themselves equally on the English
and Flemish traders, and then found refuge in the French
harbours. Charles of Burgundy complained; Louis retorted
with accusations of his having aided the new King of England
in his attacks on the coasts of Normandy, and of having accepted the English Order of the Garter, though he had refused
his own St. Michael. He summoned the vassal to appear
before his parliament in Paris, and the vassal threw the summoners into prison.  Louis saw the game now in his hands.
He had put his enemy legally in the wrong, and, moreover,
he had all the counsellors, and favourites, and warriors, by




A. D. 1469.]   WAR WITH BUltGUNDY.                187
whom Charles was surrounded, in his pay.  We need not
however, waste much pity on the duke.  He was nearly in
the same situation with regard to the courtiers and officers of
the king. When the armies lay face to face, and famine had
almost placed the Burgundians in Louis's hands, Charles sent
a flag of truce with a statement and proofs of the infidelity of
half the princes and feudatories who commanded the royal
troops. Charles of France, now Duke of Guienne, was at the
head of the deceivers, and was anxious to gain Charles's good
will, in hopes of obtaining the hand of his daughter and heiress, Mary of Burgundy. Battle, with traitors commanding
both the armies, would have been madness, and Louis agreed
to a truce. Bitterer thoughts than ever, about the pride and
falsehood of the nobility, rankled in that ignoble heart.
Another incident soon occurred that brought affairs to a crisis.
One of his spies, being in the castle of the Count de Foix,
saw a mass of torn papers in a corner of his room, which had
previously been occupied by a messenger of the Duke of Burgundy. The man gathered up the fragments, saw a name or
two that excited his attention, pasted them all together, and
was enabled to present to the king a bond of firm alliance,
and the signatures of enemies whom he might well have trembled to see united against him, —Edward of England, triumphant at the battle of Barnet, where his enemy Warwick was
slain, and now firmly established on the English throne; the
Duke of Burgundy, Nicolas of Lorraine, the Duke of Brittany,
and, above all, Charles of France, Duke of Guienne. These
were all to be on him at once, and, as one of the papers said,
were to set so many greyhounds at his heels that he could
not know where to fly for safety. Louis, however, was more
of the fox than the hare. He doubled on his pursuers, and
tempted the Duke of Burgundy with the promise of restoring
him some towns on the Somme, and letting him have his full
revenge on his former favourite, the Constable St. Pol, who
had betrayed him to the king. Charles, on the other hand,
was to let Louis do as he chose with the Duke of Brittany
and Guienne.  The Rev. Abbe of St. Jean de l'Angely,




188              GUIENNE POISONED.           [A. D. 1472.
soon after this honourable agreement, gave a supper to the
last named of those princes, and his mistress, the Ladcy of
Monsoreau. The Abb6 had some famous fruit, and the pair
of lovers divided a peach between them. In a few minutes
the miserable lady died in torments, and Guienne was
writhing in pain. His strength, however, enabled him to
resist the effects for some months; but his confessor, as Louis
boasted, was in the king's pay, and gave daily bulletins of
his penitent's health. " He cannot last a fortnight," Louis
wrote to Dammartin, who was commanding his troops in
Guienne, "and you will take your measures accordingly."
The prince died, as the monk predicted, and Louis's most
dangerous enemy was withdrawn. The ostensible murderer,
however, was to be punished.  He was forcibly carried off by
the friends of the deceased, and given into the justice, as it
was called, of the Duke of Brittany.  But the duke was
afraid of bringing matters to an extremity with Louis, who
was openly accused as the real instigator of the crime. He
kept the culprit in confinement for some time, but before the
public trial could be arranged, Louis had managed to be perfectly reconciled with the man who had so valuable a pledge
in his hands.  The new friends were soon after this astonished with a well-authenticated report of what had happened
in the prison where the Abbe who was such a judge of
peaches was detained.  There was heard every night for some
time a great clanking of chains, fearful outcries succeeded,
then prodigious storms of wind and claps of thunder. At
last, one night when the lightning was very vivid, the noises
were redoubled, doors clanked and shrieks resounded, and on
the following morning the body of the Abbe was found reduced to cinders, the enemy of mankind himself having first
broken his neck. As the deposition of the jailor to this effect
was carefully recorded, nobody could have the effrontery to
suspect that the king had anything to do with the crime.
Now, then, there was to be war to the knife carried on
by the Crown against the nobility. Burgundy was bought off
by promises and gifts; England was soothed by concessions.




A. D. 14t4.]   AN ENGLISH INVASION.                189
But within the boundaries of France itself, no limit was put
to the vengeance and cruelty of the king. Hie arrested the
Duke of AlenQon in full peace, and immured him in a dungeon in Paris. He sent an army into the territories of the
Count of Armagnac, and a detachment of it burst into his
house, and murdered him in his bed. They also forced his
wife, who was pregnant, to drink a mixture which produced
immediate death. His brother was thrown into the Bastile,
and kept in a cave below the level of the Seine, so that the
water penetrated the floor.  The wretched pri soner lived for
eleven years in this manner, without shoes or proper clothing;
and when released at the end of that time, on the accession
of Charles the Eighth, was found to have fallen into a state
of fatuity. A short cessation in this career of murder and
revenge was produced by a new combination against Louis's
life and crown. French honour and patriotism  had now
fallen so low that the princes and great vassals, in order tc
get revenge upon their oppressor, agreed to assign the crown
of France to Edward the Fourth of England. He was to b e
crowned at Rheims, and already he bestowed rewards upon
hlis adherents as if lle were in possession of the kingdom.
The treaty united many contending factions with but one
object in common, the destruction of him whom all now
knew to be their destroyer.
Burgundy and Brittany and St. Pol forgot their animosities and signed the bond. But Louis detected the plot.  The
old plans were tried and succeeded. Promises scattered the
confederates, and they became distrustful of each other. Edward had disembarked in France at the head of an English
army. Louis sent for great bags of coined money from Paris,
and signed several papers, with the names in blank, bestowing salaries and pensions for distribution among the English
Council. He disguised a common lackey as a herald, and
sent him to an interview with the invader.  The lackey was
as clever and subservient as if he had been bred an ambassador, and won over the luxurious king. Louis flattered his
ambition and bribed his avarice. He called him "King of




190               DEATH OF ST. POL.          [A. D. 1475
England and France, and Lord of Ireland," contenting himself with the title of "King of the French."  He gave him
sixty thousand crowns on condition of withdrawing his forces
at once, and promised him fifty thousand crowns a year so
long as they both lived. Edward was so captivalted by the
arts and liberality of Louis that he agreed to visit him at
Paris.  But Louis repented of the invitation he had given,
and put him off, for fear he should grow too fond of the most
fascinating of towns.  "It is better," he said. "the sea
should be between us;" and to obtain this object no expense
was spared. Gifts were heaped upon the officers, and all the
public houses were made free to the retiring army. The
English pocketed the money, and marched from pothouse to
pothouse with the greatest satisfaction.
At last it was reported to Louis that his invaders were
safe home, and he resolved to make use of his victory.  The
fate of the Constable St. Pol was sealed. Conscious of his
approaching doom, he threw himself on the protection of his
former friend, the Duke of Burgundy.  Charles hated him
for his falsehood, but could not reject a suppliant.  He told
him to take shelter in St. Quentin. Louis, however, was at
his heels with twenty thousand men. He fled, and Charles,
rash in promise but infirm of purpose, forgot his chivalry, and
surrendered him on the threat of hostilities against himself.
Hie was tried for treason at Paris, and condemned to lose his
head on the Place de Greve.  Thousands of the brave and
noble have spilt their blood since that time in the great
square that faces the H6tel de Ville, and  allows a last
view of the towers of Notre Dame; but this is the first occasion in which a prince, a near ally of the throne-for he
had married a sister of the Queen-was exposed to the sword
of the headsman for a crime against the Crown. The supremacy of the king's will was now so well established that
there was no further use for secret assassination. A public
execution struck more awe into the populace, and kept the
nobility in more subjection, than a stab in the dark or a poisoned peach. Tristan l'Hermite, almost equally with Louis,




A. D. 1476.]     BATTLE OF GRANSON.                191
was from henceforward the acknowledged Governor of France.
But as long as Charles the Temeraire, or Rash, preserved his
independent attitude in Burgundy, the discontented had always a refuge from the justice of the king. Fortunately at
this time the overweening Burgundian became engaged in
controversy with the strong-armed highlanders of Switzerland. They had offended him, by refusing compensation for
some injury they had done to one of his adherents. To be
resisted by a set of republican shepherds was too much for the
knightly pride of the most touchy prince in Christendom. A
great army was raised, and poured down upon the town of
Granson. The inhabitants were put to the sword or drowned
in the Lake of Neuchatel. All the cantons were irritated at
the shameless deed, and rushed to rescue or revenge. Charles
met them in a narrow defile at the head of his horsemen,,who could not act on such unequal ground. The first rank
fell back upon the second, the second carried confusion into
the rear. The quick-footed Swiss still pressed on, and at
last a complete panic seized the Burgundian host. Charles
himself spurred out of the confusion, and galloped as far as
his horse could go. Never had the eyes of the mountaineers
rested on such wealth and splendour as met them in the
tents of the discomfited army-silken curtains, golden vessels, barrels of money, and armour of the finest polish.  A
jewel was taken by a soldier from the private chest of the
duke, sold to a priest for a florin, sold by him for five shillings, and is now considered the greatest ornament of the
French crown, and one of the richest stones in Europe. Louis
did not know how to proceed in these astonishing circumstances.  He had signed a treaty to maintain the peace
towards the duke, and yet could not resist showing his approbation of the Swiss. With the Swiss also he had signed
a treaty, by which he was bound to give them aid in men and
money whenever they were attacked. He compromised the
two obligations by abstaining from assaulting the Burgundian,
and from sending assistance to the Swiss. He could not fulfil
both stipulations, and it was more economical to execute




192               BATTLE OF MORAT.           [A. D. 1477.
neither. He gave the mountaineers, however, unmistakable
evidence of his sympathy in their cause; and when Charles,
in the same year, came forth at the head of another powerful
army, Louis encouraged the cantons to resist. The same
thing as before occurred, with only the variation of place.
Morat was a repetition of Granson. The slaughter of the defeated Burgundians was so great that, till the latter end of last
century, a vast monument was still to be seen upon the field
of battle, built up of the bones of the slain, and called the
Bone-Hill of lMorat. The battle of Nancy followed in 1477,
and raised the Swiss to the summit of military fame, besides
weakening Burgundy so as to render it for ever powerless
against France. In the midst of winter, ill-provided, and
doubtful of the issue themselves, the hosts of Burgundy moved
on, and laid siege to the town of Nancy. Charles was no
longer the impetuous warrior he had been. He was broken
in spirit, and at times almost mad with disappointment and
regret. He had even summoned to command his army an
adventurer from Italy, of the name of Campo Basso. Campo
Basso was, as might be expected, a correspondent of Louis,
and had offered' to place Charles in his hands. But Louis
played, of course, a double game with the deceiver and his
dupe. To show how generous he was, he warned the duke
of the insincerity of his general, feeling well assured that his
advice would be attributed to dishonourable motives; and
accordingly it was thought a weak invention of the enemy,
and Campo Basso was more trusted than before. Again the
Swiss battalions, aided by the forces of Ren6 of Lorraine, began to appear. In the midst of a great storm, and in a hard
frost, Charles resolved to attack them. Campo Basso sent
over an offer of his treachery to the gallant mountaineers;
but they despised a traitor, and scorned the disgrace of having such an auxiliary. He therefore retired to the rear of
the Burgundian line, to intercept the fugitives, and enrich
himself with their ransom.  There were few fugitives, however, to ransom; for as the horses'slipped upon the icy plain,
tlhe victory was easier than at either Granson or MIorat. The




A. D. 1477.]  DEATH OF CHARLES THE RASH.           193
earth was heaped with corpses, and among them, after a long
search, was found the body of the fiery duke, fixed in the
snow, and so disfigured that he was only recognised by a scar
on his face and the length of his nails, which he had allowed
to grow, as a sign of mourning, ever since his calamities
began. Not deserving of a very favourable epithet, this harsh
and arrogant potentate closed a life of violeuce with a death
of defeat.
But now all men's eyes were turned with earnest expectation to the first move in the great drama of intrigue and
policy which his demise was certain to produce. His daughter
had been the great card which he had held in his hands for
many years. Lady of Hainault and Flanders, and all the
Low Countries, she was a bait which none of the princes could
resist. Charles had silenced enemies and gathered friends, by
a mere hint of the bestowal of Mary's hand. He had played
it against the name of king, and promised it to the son of
Frederick the Emperor, if that successor of the Roman Cesars
would consent to convert his ducal coronet into a royal crown.
The treaties and arrangements, and all the preparations for the
betrothal and the creation, would be amusing, if they did not
show how low morality and honour had fallen in those days.
The Emperor said, " Let the young people marry, and I will
name you king."  But the duke, who gave no credit, said,
" Make me king, and I will give your son my daughter."
Neither would trust the other.  The Emperor hurried off by
stealth from the place of meeting, when he found the duke
had summoned an increase to his escort; and Charles, vowing vengeance, and fearful of ridicule, packed up the royal
crown he had brought with him beside the sceptre and mantle, and took his way to his states with no higher rank than
he camne. Other expectations had been equally disappointed,,
and now, in the year 1477, M3ary was an orphan twenty years
of age, handsome and well-informed, with a portion in her
own right which would make any man she chose a sovereign.
prince, or double the grandeur of the greatest potentate.
When Louis heard of the father's death, his first thought was.,
13




1941            MARY OF BURGUNDY.            [A. D. 1477
of course, to secure the daughter's succession. He knelt to
all his saints in gratitude for the defeat of his rival, walked on
a pilgrimage of grace to a church in Anjou, and vowed silver
bannisters to the tomb of St. Martin of Tours. Having
purified his mind by these religious exercises, he sent a
peremptory demand for the restoration of the two Burgundies
to the Crown, as they lapsed for want of male heirs. Of this
there could be no doubt with respect to the duchy, which had
been conveyed by John to Philip the Hardy; but the county
of the same name was capable of feminine holding; and if
]Mary had been in a condition to assert her claims, might have
refused obedience to the king. Mary, however, was lonely in
the midst of all that wealth.  She had no disinterested
guardian to apply to, and made only a feeble protest when
the Parliament of Burgundy, purchased or intimidated, recognised its feudal obligation, and transferred its allegiance to
the French crown. HIolland, however, and Flanders, and
Artois, and large territories in Germany, and the disputed
cities on the Somme, belonged to her still. If she had given
her hand to some gallant soldier who would have defended
her states, she might have aroused the chivalrous feelings of
all the gentlemen in Europe on her behalf. Bat this she did
not try, knowing too well, perhaps, that chivalrous feelings
were limited to books of fiction.  The encumbered heiress
wrote in her despair to Louis himself. Louis was her godfather, and she had no other friend. She sent four trusty
counsellors to lay her case before him.  She begged his protection, and made a confidential request that he would conduct
all his correspondence with her through no one but these
trusted friends.  " You want, of course, to know what I intend to do," said Louis, when he had read the letter on the
day of audience; and the four envoys bowed.  "I will marry
mny godchild Mary to my son, the Dauphin.  I will rule her
states in their joint names, till she is old enough to do homage. I will take possession of the male fief at once, and if
any one opposes my decisions, I have forces enough to make
my will obeyed."  There was no circumlocution here, and the




A. D. 1477.]    OLIVER THE BARBER.                   195
ambassadors were silent with surprise. The Dauphin was a
sickly boy of eight years old, and their young mistress, as we
have seen, was in the flower of her age. The king, in return
for the visit of the Burgundian envoys, sent an envoy of his
own. His barber was a quickwitted unprincipled adventurer,
of the name of Oliver le Daim. He had come originally from
Ghent, and was, of course, master of the Flemish tongue.
This was the dignified emissary whom France despatched to
the highest princess in Europe.  He covered his original baseness with a pinchbeck title, and the barber took his northward way lnder the name of the Count of M3eulan.  But the
Count of Meulan smelt dreadfullv of the shop.  He never
could get the shaving-basin out of his countrymen's sight;
and at his first reception he behaved so unlike a royal ambassador, that he was hissed by the audience, not without allusions to the propriety of throwing him  out of the window.
He was hustled down stairs, and was glad to slip out of his
house and out of the town in the darkness of the night, and
mnake his way back to his employer without having presented
his letters of recall. Louis was delighted, for, while these
things were going on at Ghent, he had succeeded with the
messengers of poor Mary, and did not care if they had hanged
the barber-ambassador on a lamp-post in the street.  The
trusty counsellors, won over by his address and protestations,
surrendered Artois to his honourable keeping; and on their
return were executed by the States of Flanders, in spite of
the prayers and intercession of the princess.  The accusation
was not for having betrayed their mistress, but for having
constituted themselves members of the Council of Four, in
whom: Mary had told Louis she put all her confidence.  She
had told nobody else, and declared the innocence of her hapless friends.  But Louis, with his usual generosity, had forwarded the letter in which his god-daughter made the fatal
avowal, and the discovery was almost fatal to herself.  The
States were republican in tendency, and resolved to submit
as little as possible to the governance of a woman. They
tormented her with their advice and wearied her with their




1 96         MARY MARRIES MAXIMILIAN.   [A. D. 1478.
reclamations, till she fortunately escaped their further importunities by persuading them to consent to her marriage with
Maximilian, the son of the Emperor, the man to whom her
father had resolved to give her in return for the title of King.
Louis was quieted for a time by the fear of offending the
Emperor, but carried on more fiercely than ever his war
against feudalism, as represented by the great nobility at
home. Burgundy was gone-Artois was his own-Normandy
had long been attached to the Crown. Brittany remained, and
looked uneasily at the rapid extirpation of his brethren.  He
intrigued with Englandl; but, Louis intercepted the letters,
convicted him by his own handwriting, and forced him to
a treaty which rendered him utterly dependent. The duke
had seen that a cloud was gathering from  the increased
religious fervour visible in the king. When a murder or a
treachery was on hand, his activity in visiting shrines and
vowing church ornaments became remarkable. People trembled when they saw the meanly-drest, slouch-gaited, sallowfaced old man travelling from altar to altar, and sticking his
bonnet full of little images of saints, and pouring out flatteries and adulations to the statues of the Virgin. A tale
of blood was sure to follow; and in 1478 the wildest expectations of Paris were surpassed by the horror of one of his
executions. There had been no such cold-blooded monster
since the days of Tiberius. The Duke of Nemours was
representative of the great house of Armagnac, and was married to a princess of Anjou, first cousin of the king. A
headstrong, discontented, and ambitious man, he had joined
in the League of the Public Good, and in many of the intrigues against the monarch since that time. Louis had
taken no notice till he could secure his revenge.  But two
years before this, he had got him in his power, and kept the
unfortunate man in chains. He was now tried for treason,
and condemned. This was by no means unexpected. But
men's hearts were revolted by the proceedings that ensued.
The duke was taken to a wooden scaffold, the planks of which
were loosely joined, and below the platform were placed the




A. D. 1478.]   EXECUTION OF NEMIOURS.              197
children of the culprit, three boys and two girls, the eldest
twelve. When the axe had done its work, slowly, drop by
drop, their father's blood fell upon their heads; and by this
dreadful lesson the discontented were everywhere informed
that nothing —not even relationship to himself-stoodc between
the king and his revenge. Louis had been praised for the
one solitary good act of his reign-his declaration of the unremovability of the judges; but on this occasion he displaced
four of the counsellors of parliament, by his own authority,
for wishing to moderate the punishment.
His pilgrimages and prayers must have increased in frequency shortly after this, for a tremendous thought had come
into his head, and it would require a vast amount of saintly
aid to make it tolerable to his subjects.  This was no less
than the trial for felony and treason of the deceased Duke of
Burgundy. A court was called, the culprit was summoned,
barristers were appointed to support the accusation; his
whole life was inquired into, his faults pointed out, ancl
malicious antiquarians ascended to the actions of his ancestors; and the murder of the Duke of Orleans, in the reign of
Charles the Sixth, was urged as an aggravation of his crimes,
After so much eloquence and such convincing proofs, the verdict could not be doubtful.  The Duke of Burgundy was
sure to be found guilty of the crimes laid to his charge, and
his estates forfeited to the Crown.  Maximilian, the husband
of Mary' took the alarm.  He begged his father the Emperor
to interfere. He was afraid that action would follow the
judgment, and tried at least to delay the sentence.  The
Diet of the States of Germany was about to meet, and might
take up the cause of their chiefs. Louis therefore allowed
the trial to expire, and had merely the satisfaction of showing
that a grand vassal was not safe from his insults and vengeance even after death.  Yet the daughter and son-in-law
of the insulted potentate could not be expected to remain
satisfied under so insolent a proceeding.  M1aximilian collected his forces, and declared war against the King of France.
A battle at Guinegate satisfied neither party, for each in turn




19%               THE GREAT NOBLES.           [A. D. 1479
was victorious.  The Germans remained on the field, but the
French had lost fewest men and taken most prisoners. Louis;
however, was in the end the greatest gainer by the engagement, for he had acquired the knowledge that cavalry was
no match for well-trained footmen. His Swiss auxiliaries
were the best portion of his army, and he increased his infantry, andl brought it more under his personal control by
taking the appointment of the officers into his own:hands.
Hitherto that patronage had belonged to the dukes or princes
who commanded the forces, and bore too great a resemblance
to the feudal system of benefit and obligation to find acceptance with the king. In fact, the object of his reign was by
this time nearly accomlplished.  The Crown and the populace
had tincl  ited in compressing the upper class, and despotism
received its accomplishment in the establishment of a standing, army.  Not much to be lamented individually, the great
feudatories of France had established still fewer claims to
their countrymen's regret at their fall, by the debilitating
effects which their divisions and ambition had had on the
strength of the kingcldom.  At first, perhaps they were useful
in forming little settlements of wealth and influence in
regions too remote for the central authority to reach.  The
luxurious courts of Aquitaine or Burgundy civilised the muanners and encouraged the arts, and by their tournaments and
festivals openied a theatre for the display of feminine influence, which could not be without a humanising effect on
the surrounding populations.  But when power had disappearedl, there was absolute mischief in pretending to keep up
the appearance of independence.  Instead of rival -potentates,
they sank into discontented subjects. From a confederation
of almost equal authorities, they became an archipelago of
insubordinate  and disunited princes, exercising the petty
tyrannies of local oppressors without the dignity of national
requirements, and by their attempt to strengthen themselves
against the monarch's domestic supremacy, weakened the
power of the country in its relations with foreign states.
The misfortune was, that this state of society, necessary and




A. D. 1479.]   DEGRADATION OP THE PEERS.             199
salutary, as a preparation. for the future, tried to continue its
existence when the time of its disappearance had arrived.
Unfortunate also for its memory, is the reflection that its
death-wound was not inflicted by the honourable hand of
some great-hearted conqueror who respected it at the very moment of striking the inevitable blow, but that it was clone
to death by weapons which degraded as well as slew.  There
was no dignity in its closing scene. A wretched pettifogger,
without a touch of sentiment or romance, put an end for ever
to the fairy realms in which Arthur and his knights were
supposed to hold high court.  The sword was turned into a
white rod or a silver stick,. and the descendants of Oliver and
Roland walked backward in grand processions, drest in the
livery of their master, and quarrelled for precedence in the
offices of the court. Nothing but the sound of a historical
name remained to distinguish the De Coucis and Monttmorencies from the herd of titled and landless adventurers who
vied with them in the depth of their obeisances in the antechamber of the king. If any other distinction survived it
was the frequency with which their heads were- submitted to
the axe of the executioner.  A nobility derived from Charlemiagne was a sure passport to the scaffold. Louis was even
witty on the subject, and when he was going to employ his
friend Tristan in his melancholy office, he would write to the
intended victim, "'Cousin? come and give us your advice;
we have need of so wise a head as yours."  The need he had
of his cousin's wise head was to put it into a basket filled with
sawdust.  It was seldom, however, that he conclescended to
be jocular with a noble.  To the citizen and servants of his
house he was full of quips and quiddities, and there is no
doubt that the familiarity of his manners made him popular
- with the towns.  But the towns had other reasons for liking
this first of absolute kings, for in his desire to humble the great
aristocracy, he conveyed privileges to the cities which placed
their office-bearers on a level with the loftiest of the lords.
In some instances he bestowed nobility on the members of
town-councils, exempting them at the same time from joining




200           FRANCHISES OF THE TOWNS.  [i. D. 1483
the army in the field, being complimentarily held as always
engaged in the defence of their own walls.  But Louis, in
aggrandising the burgesses, only carried out more boldly the
policy of his predecessors, who, from an early period, had
found a remedy in the franchises of the communities against
the aggressions of the nobles. None of his ancestors, however,
had bestowed such unremitting attention on the internal administration of the rising towns. Innumerable royal letters
still remain regulating their affairs.  The dress and decorations of the municipality were arranged with the utmost
minuteness, the salaries of the different ranks, and even the
wages of the ringers of the great and little bells.  These,
however, were not merely the noisy summoners of a meeting,
but were the outward sign of freedom  and independence.
When a suzerain attacked a refractory town, the greatest
proof of his anger, and the severest punishment he could
inflict, was the interdiction of its bells; they were like the
colours of an army, and represented the honour of all who
served under them.  Trade had greatly increased in several
places in the midst of national distress, and was encouraged
by the sagacious Louis as a surer guarantee against the power
of the great vassals, than the written privileges lie could bestow on the governing body. He even recommended the
lords and ecclesiastics not to keep aloof from the profits of
commerce, and gave increased rank and franchises to those
who trafficked by sea. But in 1483 his health gave way.
Two years before, he had suffered from a stroke of apoplexy,
from which he recovered with undiminished intellect, but
shaken frame. Every effort was made to retain the fleeting
strength.  Medicine, and prayers, and offerings were tried;
and a holy hermit, when all science seemed to fail, rwas summoned to his aid; but St. Francis de Paul (that was the
hermit's name) could not stop the downward course.  He did
not even attempt it, though the king fell on his knees to him,
and blasphemously said, "If thou wilt, thou canst make me
whole."  He was more useful in earnest and pious conversation, and perhaps had a momentary effect on the conscience.




AD.m 1483.]    END OF THE MIDDLE AGES.             201
which seemed seared beyond sensation. The penitent, if such
he was, went by painful journeys, and visited his son for the
last time; broke forth in a passion of regret into confessions
of his crimes and frailties, and went back to Plessis le Tours
to die. Yet to the last he cherished hope. A chaplain was
praying for the health of his body and soul. " Pray for the
health of the body," said Louis; " you should not ask too
many things at a time." At last the fatal hour arrived.
He had told the attendants not to mention the word death,
but, when his final agony came on, merely to tell him not to
speak. The word was said, and he remembered what it
meant.  He muttered a few syllables to his "' sweet lady and
great friend" the Virgin, and expired. If any one had looked
out of the window of that sombre room, he would have seen a
long narrow avenue, barred across at intervals as if to resist a
charge of cavalry; sentinels stationed at each wicket; and
along both sides of the approach a ghastly row of gibbets,
with the decaying bodies of his enemies depending from the
cords. Inside the house he would have seen double-barred
doors, and guards again in every passage-a prison more than
a palace; and in this gloomy den, for three years, had resided the invisible, inscrutable power, whose word was heard
in the farthest parts of the earth, and whose hand pulled the
strings by which the policies of many nations were ruled.
This reign has been dwelt on at greater length than is
required by any of the others, as it is the turning-point of
French and even of European history. The face vf affairs
between his accession in 1461 and his death in 1.83 was
entirely changed. A great gulf was dug between the centuries which comprehended the rise of chivalry and the Crusades, and that other and brighter period, which was to coirprehend the diffusion of learning and the reformation of the
Church. The middle ages, in the course of this one man's
lifetime, had passed away, and modern life had begun.




CHAPTER   VIII.
CHARLES THE EIGHTH, A. D. 1483, TO THE DEATH OF LOUIS TIHE
TWELFTH, A. D. 1515.
CHARLES the Eighth was now thirteen years of age, feeble in
health, and systematically kept ignorant by his father.  His
life had been spent, not in the joyfulness of childhood or the
studies of youth, but in the solitude and restraint of the castle of Amboise. From that old fortress he was never allowecl to travel. A prisoner more than a prince, he now found
himself on the throne, which Louis appeared to have planted
in safety on the humiliation of the nobles, and the submission
of the people. But liberty leaves recollections, if no more
valuable memorials, of where it once has been'; and in the first
glow of their delivery from a tyrant whom both parties hated,
the aristocracy and the commons met in a parliament at
Tours, andl proceeded to abrogate some of the oppressions laid
on them by the late king. Again the connection between
the claims of Rome and national freeclom was shown by the
first demancl made by the citizens and the inferior clergy for
the restoration of the Pragmatic, by which the Pope's influence was curtailed.  But the bishops opposed the demand,
andl paid their court to the foreign pontiff by the sacrifice of
the franchises of the Church. The nobility also Imade a
claim for the restoration of the right their ancestors had exercised, of defending the frontier against an enemy; and the
burgesses agreed: in the request, though for a different reason.
The nobles saw in the renewal of their military services the
only chance of recovering their old preponderance; and the
burgesses saw in the dismissal of the foreign mercenaries not




A. D. 1483.]    A NATIONAL ASSEMBLI.                 203
only a diminution of the power of the Crown, but an alleviation of their taxes.  The taxes, indeed, were nearly intolerable. A review was taken of the state of the country, and
the distress was fearful to contemplate.  With the exception
of some trading towns, and some of the seaports, which had
been forced into unnatural prosperity by royal favour, poverty
was spread over all the land.  The royal assessments were
immensely increased since the good old time of Charles the
Wise, and the private exactions of the proprietors were in*creased in the same degree.  The numerous clays of forced
labour for the landlord's benefit,-the supplies in lieu of
rent, —the contributions exigible at his will, were bitterly
complained of before this, the first national assembly which
had been summoned for many years; for it came out, on
closer inquiry, that Louis's policy in degrading the nobles extended no further than to weaken their opposition to himself.
He had left them still as untrammelled as ever in their authority over their dependants.  He had taken away their
dignities, but left them their privileges. They were exempted from public burdens, and only interdicted from public duties.
In the midst, however, of their hopes and complaints
they voted a subsidy, but only for two years, and passed a
resolution that after that period the assembly should again
meet.  The king, now fourteen, and therefore nominally of
full age, could understand nothing of what was going on. He
was rejoicing in his new-gained liberty and unaccustomed power, and devoted himself, when he read at all, to the perusal
of the lives of Cesar and Alexander, and took them for models of his own performances. He determined to be a conqueror, and was only uncertain in what quarter to commence his
triumphs. i Anne of Beaujeu, his sister, who was married to
a brother of the Duke of Bourbon, was a more worthy child
of the sagacious Louis than the frivolous boy.  She ruled by
her influence over her brother, but never showed she ruled.
Wise regulations were issued in his name, bold steps taken
without apparent hesitation, a firm system  establishedl; and




204         POLICY OF THE KING S SISTER.  [A. D. 1483a
France very soon felt that a strong hand was at the helm
and anticipated great things from so auspiciously commenced
a reign. Some of the discontented lords were brought over
by promises of advancement, and some of the towns and communes by promises of relief from their burdens; and though
this policy was evidently borrowed from the late king's, it differed from his in so far that the promises were kept. But Anne
could not hope to satisfy ambitions which could not be allayed without the sacrifice of herself. Louis of Orleans, nearest to the throne, and three-and-twenty years of age, was displeased at the supremacy of a woman.  He had made up
his mind to be virtual ruler of France, in expectation of his
natural succession to the throne on the death of its sickly
tenant. But Anne was on her guard; and Louis, forgetting
his duty and patriotism, sought allies, both within and without the realm, to aid him in overturning her power. " Better to reign in a subject province of Germany or England
than to be second man in the free and noble kingdom of
France," was his motto at that time —how admirably to be
exchanged for principles and conduct which gained him the
name of Father of his Country, when he came to the throne
as Louis the Twelfth, we shall soon see. But in the mean
time, more ambitious and unprincipled than his grandfather,
the murdered Duke of Orleans, he offered any terms, however humiliating to himself and France, for assistance in his
personal schemes. Brittany and Lorraine were discontented
vassals; England and Austria were rival powers; and he applied himself to all the four. We saw Rene of Lorraine triumphant over Charles the Rash at t1e battle of NTancy. The
fame, however, was all he obtained; for Louis the Eleventh
availed himself of the extinction of the house of Burgundy to lay
firmer hold than ever on the territories of Provence, which Rene
claimed as an appanage of his family. Francis of Brittany was
drawing near his death, and was disquieted with thoughts of the
future fite of his two daughters, who were his only heirs.
Hating the power of France, his great anxiety was to prevent
its aggrandisement by the absorption of any portion of his




A. D. 1485.]    ORLEANS A PRISONER.               205
states when his orphans were left undefended. He listened
accordingly, well pleased, to any proposition which promised
to disturb the repose of his ambitious neighbour. From England little aid was to be expected, for our Richard the Third
was on the throne, and the guilt of murder and usurpation
weakened his power. Austria could not with any decency
take part with Orleans, as Maximilian had engaged his
daughter Margaret to Charles the Eighth, and sent her, though
only two years old, to go through the ceremony of betrothal,
and be educated at the court of her future husband. Maximilian had perhaps another reason for remaining quiet. He
was now a widower by the death of Mary of Burgundy, and
hoped to make nearly as fortunate a second marriage as his
first had been by obtaining the hand of Anne of Brittany,
who was at this time fourteen years of age. Anne of Beaujeu
proved herself a true daughter of Louis the Eleventh. To
keep Richard, who promised assistance to the discontented
Orleans, quiet, she gave men and money to Henry of Richmondcl, who claimed the throne as descendant of the Lancastrian line. In August 1485 the battle of Bosworth placed
the crown on Richmond's head, under the name of Henry the
Seventh; and Orleans had an enemy instead of a friend on
the English throne in his opposition to his native king. Maximilian, unlucky in all things except his marriage, was taken
prisoner by the revolted Flemings, and kept in durance vile
till he conceded their demands. France was therefore in the
ascendant. An army was sent into Brittany under De la
Tremouille, and Charles and Annre conducted another into
Guienne.   Orleans was forced to rise in insurrection at
the very time that he must have seen that the movement
was useless. Too far advanced in his plans to hope for pardon, and not far enough to succeed, he fought one or two
small engagements, and was taken prisoner at St. Aubin de
Cormier in 1488, and kept fromn doing further harm by imprisonment in the tower of Bourges. Francis of Brittany,
the rebellious vassal, died, and the calamities he had fbreseen
fell upon his children. The dukedom was overrun by various




206            FERDINAND OF ARAGON.          [A. D. 1491.
nations-Englishmen, Spaniards, and Flemings; and at last,
in despair of escaping by any other means from her persecutors and foes, and anxious to secure herself the favour of some
person able to protect her, the heiress, Anne, the eldest daughter of the deceased duke, agreed to carry the dowry of Brittany to Mlaximilian, as iMary of Burgundy had enriched him
with Holland and Hainault. In the year 1490 the marriage
was celebrated by proxy, and the lucky wooer added one of
the great provinces of France to his hereditary States of Austria, and boasted now of territories sufficient to maintain the
dignity of King of the Romans, to which he had been elected
some time before. He had never seen his bride, and was
engaged at the time in a campaign in Hungary.  The move
paralysed all the players in the game. Henry the Seventh
of England was alarmed -at the increased- strength of Maximilian. Ferdinand of Aragon, who had tried to weaken
France by supporting the rebellion in Brittany, in order to
recover the ancient possessions of Spain in the south, was
equally dissatisfied with the turn affairs had taken. The
head of the house of Albret had drawn the sword against
France, in hopes of winning the heiress of Brittany for himself, and the alliance, in fact, dissolved in the very moment
when M]aximilian's triumph was apparently secured. But
Maximilian forgot that Anne of Beaujeu was the real governor of France. No state of a game could be too desperate
for so skilful and unscrupulous a player. An army was instantly poured into the revolted duchy; a parliament of Bretons summoned by the king to meet at Vannes; Rennes,
where the weeping duchess, or Roman queen, resided, was
seized; and Charles the Eighth, suzerain of the land, and
Most. Christian King, presented himself before his vassal on
the 15th of November, 1491, and forgot in a moment, by command of his sister of Beaujeu, the little daughter of Maximilian to whom he was betrothed, and the betrothal of Maximilian to the fair young heiress to whom he now paid his obeisance. On the 6th of December he married her with royal
solemnity, and: on the 10th crowned her at St. Denis Queen




A. D. 1494.]    THE FRENCH INVADE ITALY.           207
of France.: Never had a marriage even of a crowned head
created such a sensation before.  Maximilian lost his wife
and the duchy of Brittany, and received back his daughter
with nothing but the betrothal ring. Bitter upbraidings followed, of course; fobr though neither engagement had gone
beyond the ceremony of espousal, the result was considered
equal to that of a double divorce. It was also a surprise; for
nobody but Anne of Beaujeu (who was now, by the death of
her brother-in-law, Duchess of Bourbon) had imagined such a
method of stifling the rebellion of a province and weakening
the hands of a rival. The; action, however, was successful,
though manifestly unjust. France reposed for some time,
freed from domestic troubles and foreign attacks.
But France, the moment she grows rich, grows ambitious
too. Trade was flourishing, the public burdens were mitigated, the classes were more united; and when the treasury
had begun-to fill, Charles, remembering the old connection
between his country and Italy, between the house of Anjou
and the kingdom of Naples, between the house of Orleans and
the duchy of Milan, resolved, in imitation of the heroes of his
choice, the Roman and Macedonian conquerors, to acquire a
deathless fame by feats of arms. He made preparations for a
march across the Alps, and a conquest of the whole of the
peninsula. After that, he saw no difficulty in a voyage across
the sea at the head of his admiring chivalry, to expel the
Turks from Europe, and plant the fleur-de-lis on the walls
of Constantinople.  Expectations so extravagant had their
natural result. We need not pause over the individual
events. French impetuosity carried the army and the king,
at the first dash, through Tuscany, and on to Rome, and further on to Naples. The separate principalities of that distracted land, where genius seems indigenous and union impossible, were in a high state of prosperity. Combined, they
might have resisted this new invasion of the Gauls; but the
curse of envious factions vexed their councils, and one by one
they fell. The Pope was besieged in the castle of St. Angelo;
Ferdinand of ZNaples was dethroned, and Charles made his




208       THE FRENCH REPELLED FROM ITALY. [A. D. 1494.
triumphant entry into the city in February, 1495.  On this
occasion, as on many others, the famous lines might have
been repeated, which say"A king of France, with forty thousand men,
March'd up a hill, and then march'd down again."
For, now that the gallant invaders were at the summit of
their march, their eyes were anxiously directed to the possibility of a return. To march down again, was very soon the
great ambition of the forty thousand warriors who had climbed
the hill. Ludovic of Milan, who had been the partisan of
Charles in his advance, was organising a league to intercept
him on his homeward route: England, Aragon, and Austria,
were getting ready for the invasion of France; and Venice
had an army of thirty-five thousand men waiting for him in
strong positions at the foot of the Apennines.  Charles compensated himself with an increase of rank and dignity, for the
mournful condition of his affairs.  He proclaimed himself
Emperor of Constantinople, by donation from Andrew Paleologus, King of Jerusalem and the two Sicilies; and made another solemn entry, clothed in the emblems of his new dignity.
He made a silent exit in eight days after that, and fought his
way through many obstacles, conquering in fair fight, although
outnmarched and outmanceuvred by the native levies; and
finally, after a really decisive victory over the Venetians
at Fornova on the Taro, and a disadvantageous treaty with
Ludovic of Milan, he led the remains of his forces back
to France, and learned in a short time that every one of
his Italian acquisitions had fallen from his hand.  D'Aubigny, a relation of the Stuarts of Scotland, the general he
had left behind, capitulated in Calabria, and with difficulty
got home. All that was left to the youthful king from his
transalpine journey, was a knowledge of actual war, and an
enthusiastic love of the fine arts. He caught a new idea from
the rising glories of architecture, sculpture, and painting;
and resolved to make his castle of Amboise a rival to the marvels of Florence and Rome. While engaged in ornamenting




A. D. 1498.] ACCESSION OF LOUIS THIE TWELFTH.      209
this residence, where he had spent his youth, he took the
Queen one day to see a racket-court he was building, and
hurt his head against a beam in one of the dark passages.
Disregarding the accident, he continued his walk; but, on returning through the same gallery, suddenly fell back in a faint.
He was left where he lay, for fear of the effects of moving
him in that condition, and died in the course of the same
day. A thoughtless, weak, but generous-minded prince, showing the fault of his early education in the eagerness with
which he grasped at the pleasures of wealth and ostentation
so long denied him, and offering a hope of amelioration, both
for himself and his country, at the very moment he was taken
away. This was on the 7th of April, 1498, and a very different man came to the throne,
LOUIS THE TWELFTH,
different, fortunately, from Charles the Eighth, but still more
fortunately, different from himself. You remember the rebellioeus, intriguing, discontented Duke of Orleans — the man
who was only quelled by the sagacity of Anne of Beaujeu,.
and who had stooped to the infamy of begging foreign assistance to aid him in his personal designs. He was now
in his thirty-seventh year, tall and well made; his courage
had been shown in many fields, for he had been distinguished in the Italian expedition, and displayed the valour of a
Paladin, as well as the unselfishness of a hero, in the defence
of Novarra. His talents were well known, though hitherto
the use he had applied them to was not uniformly good; and
nobody doubted that, if he devoted himself to the duties of
his high office, he would raise his country to a station it had
never reached before. The misfortune, however, of his previous career was that it had placed him in opposition to many
of the very individuals with whom his new position brought
him into contact. The faithful advisers and generals, friends
of the late king —had all exerted themselves against him,
either in council or the battle-field. Though formally recon14




210              HIS NOBLE CONDUCT.             [A. D. 1498
ciled to them during the lifetime of his predecessor, they were
well aware what secret enmity might coexist with the outward manifestation of a different feeling; and many were
conscious of the harshness and injustice of their treatment of
the prince.  The first movements, theref6re, of the dreaded
monarch were watched for with anxiety.  His speech on taking his royal seat was the key-note of all his future life: " The
King of France takes no revenge on the enemies of the Duke
of Orleans."  From, that moment all the past was forgotten.
Royalist, Orleanist, noble anda burgess, all rallied to the
Crown.  The efforts of Louis the Eleventh, hateful in their
nature and cruel in their execution, in lowering the power of
the nobility, now showed their proper fruits. The king was
surrounded by nobles who strengthened his throne, and were
prevented, by his watchful superintendence, from  oppressing
the people. The provincial parliaments, in which the local
legislation was carried on, and which had a voice even in the
national affairs, were further protections to the lower class;
and at this period the stage we alluded to in the usual course
of nations was reached-the aristocracy had yielded to the
Crown, but the Crown was still kept in check by certain institutions which had derived their authority from antiquity,
and secured the liberty of all by the privileges of many.  The
feudal peers, limited in number and selfish in their objects,
were guarded, in their high and palmy clays, by their union
among themselves, and the exclusion of the other orders in
the State.  Their struggle was against the predominance of
the Crown, and in this they had not the sense or generosity
to enlist on their side the sympathies of the masses.  The
kings, even the worst of them, without foreseeing the elevating
effects of their proceedings, had attached the multitude to
their cause by establishing franchises in the towns; and long
after the nobility had sunk into courtiers, and the Church into
slavery, the municipalities nourished a love of self-government,
and hatred of tyranny, which the woes and struggles of so
many intervening years have not altogether extinguished at
the present time




A. 1). 1499.]    HIS WIFE, JANE OF FoRANCE.           211
But Loulis ran a great risk of alienating the affections he
had gained, by the next step he took.  It was to secure his domestic happiness, and prevent the loss of his authority; and
again, in one of the most extraordinary marriages on record,
Anne of Brittany, who had been betrothed to Maximilian, and
was now the widow of Charles the Eiglth, was a performer.
Charles was of small size, and very ungainly figured; but in
both these respects his unhappy sister, Jane, was still more remnarkable.  Very plain in features, and greatly deformed in
shlape, she had been forced, two-and-twenty years before this,
upon the unwilling Duke of Orleans by the tyranny of her father,
Louis the Eleventh.  To marry his daughter, and destroy at
the same time the happiness of his kinsman, was a gratification
of the old man's malice, which he could not forego; and Jane,
timidly acknowledging her deficiencies, but earnestly loving
the fair young man who had been given to her as husband,
tried to compensate for the want of personal beauty, by the
meekness and tenderness of her disposition.  A more gentle
or uncomplainincg sufferer never was the heroine of a romance.
The generous heart of Orleans was sometimes touched by these
virtues, but though he respected he could not love; coldness
succeeded, and, at length, the forced appearances of affection,
exacted of him by his position and the watchful malignity of
his father-in-law, degeneratecl into hatred, and Jane learned
the terrible truth that she was an object of disgust and repulsion to the person on whom she had lavished all her heart.
APnne of Brittany, the Dowager of France, was under thirty
years of age, the widow of a man she could not greatly lament,
and Was visited in the first hours of her affliction by the new
occupant of the throne.  The visit was ceremonious, and exacted by the ordinary usage-but it was frequently repeated;
and while the deserted wife was lamenting in solitude the increased grandeur of her husbandcl, which would place a greater
barrier between them than before, an understanding was come
to between Louis and Anne, that if a dispensation from his
marriacge with Jane could be obtained, she would agaihan mount
the throne she had so lately left, and carry once more the




212          HE APPLIES FOR A DIVORCE.   [A. D. 1499
Duchy of Brittany as an appanage to the Crown of France.
There could be no possible difficulty in obtaining a divorce
from the Pope who at that time represented Christianity in
Rome, for he was the infamous Alexander the Sixth, more
famous under the name of Borgia-a man who ostentatiously
gloried in crimes and sins, and polluted the recesses of his
palace with iniquities of which Tiberius and Nero might have
been ashamed.  To this monster Louis applied. A favour
requested by the Most Christian King was a delightful opportunity in the eyes of the most Christian pope. He sent his
son Caesar Borgia, who hacl been a cardinal, but was now
secularised, after having murdered his brother, the Duke of
Gandia, and assumed his name, to convey to the monarch the
dispensation he' required. Cresar, however, kept the object
of his visit concealed-affected doubts of his father's acquiescence, and exacted as his own reward in the negotiation, a
grant of the territories and title of Valentinois. With his title
of duke instead of cardinal, however, he did not change his
nature, for on hearing that the nuncio at the French court
had detected his manceuvres, he caused that functionary to
be poisoned, and maintained his influence by the bowl or dagger, as if he had been at Rome. Anne, to conceal her ambition or her love, made stringent covenants in favour of the liberties of her duchy. It was to be ruled in her name, to retain
its privileges, to revert to her second son if she had more than
one-and Louis promised all. There was always a Pope to
deliver him from any embarrassing obligation, which must
have been a great satisfaction to all the parties to engagements of which they were likely to grow tired. Jane of France
retired to the convent of the Annunciaclas, at Bourges, and
died in 1505.
Happy man, in love and policy, the husband of Anne and
Duke of Brittany began the regulation of his kingdom. He
established a fund for the pay of his troops, and made pil
lage, to which they had been accustomed as one of the privi
leges of their profession, punishable with death. HIe gave
regular salaries also to the judges of his various courts, and




A.. D. 1499.]  THE PRAGMATIC SANCTION.              213
established a competitive examination before they were invested with their rank, to secure a competent knowledge of
their profession.  Bribery and gifts, from  which their incomes were avowedly derived, henceforth ceased to be openly
practised. The Pragmatic Sanction was re-established with
greater authority than ever, and measures taken to prevent
simony, purchase, or intimidation, in the obtaining of church
livings. Attempts were also made to remedy the trickery
and dishonesty of the lower practitioners of the law; but at
that time-and ever since-in vain. To provide for the increased expense of some of these alterations, he diminished
his personal expenditure to the lowest sum.  " I would rather," he said, when some of his friends accused him of parsimony,-" I would rather hear the complaints of my courtiers
at my meanness, than the sighs of my subjects at my exactions."  But when economy was found insufficient, he had
recourse to the temporary expedient of selling the offices of
his court and parliaments to the highest bidder-a fatal step,
which only put off the evil day, for the money paid for the
office required interest to make it a good investment, and
who was to pay the interest but the body of the people by
whom, in the last resort, all the burdens of the State are
borne?  The immediate supply, however, enabled him to
bribe our Henry the Seventh with the payment of his yearly
pension of fifty thousand crowns, and to win over his councillors with handsome gifts. He also made an advance, even
before it was due, of the stipulated salary to the Swiss Cantons; and no surer way could be discovered of securing the
gratitude and attachment of those brave and mercenary allies.  The politicians of that time must have been blinder
even than their successors in the present day, if they had not
seen the reason of all this bribery and preparation. Italy
rose before him, as it has always risen before the eyes of the
French, as the promised land. The retreat of Charles the
Eighth, and all the calamities of the campaign of 1495 were
forgotten; nothing *was remembered but the triumphant
march upon Florence, and Rome, and Naples. All the




214         LOUIS CLAIMIS THE TAWO SICILIES.  [A. D. 1499
plains of France were soon covered with marching thousands,
anxious to renew the glories and avenge the misfortunes of
their gallant predecessors.  And as a prelude to the fina.
blow, Louis published a declaration of his rights to the twc
Sicilies, derived from the grant of Joanna long ago, andt hi~
individual claim  to Milan, as descendant of the unhappy
Valentine, whom we remember demanding vengeance for the
slaughter of her husband, tlhe handsome Duke of Orleans,
in the reign of Charles the Sixth; Valentine w as his grandmother, and her transmitted claims had been ratified by the
Pope.  But what one Pope coulcl ratify another could disallow.  Ferdinand of Aragon, the least scrupulous of princes
where his interests were concerned, joined in the invasion of
Italy, and determined to make good his pretensions to Na-.
ples, when his more confiding ally should be elsewhere engaged.  French courage and Spanish solidity found no opposition among the Italian States.  Frederick of Naples surrendered on terms, trusting to the good faith of' D'Aubigny,
who commanded the French force, and Ravestein, who commanded the French fleet.  He was sent into France, and exchanged his rights to his late kilngdom for a pension and honourable treatment.  He lived more as a subject than a prisoner, and died at Tours in 1504.  Ferdinand, his son, trusted
in the samrue way to the honour and generosity of Gonsalvo
of Cordova — the Spanish general who has gained his name
in history of the Great Captain-and was sent into Spain,
where he was kept in close and rigorous confinement.
The object of the expedition was gained, and the difficult
operation of the partition had now to be performed.  Ferdinand took the portion assigned him with apparent satisfiaction, and Louis was contented with his.  But M achiavel,
whose book was at this time being composed, might have
borrowed a chapter from  the policy of the M ost Catholic
King.  Aggressions were made on the French possessions
troops were surreptitiously added to the army of Gonsalvo,
and when an infectious disease weakened the French, fwhile
their allies, being more accustomed to the climate, escaped




A. D. 1503.]    IS DRIVEN OUT OF NAPLES.             215
comparatively free, the insolence of the Castilian could no
longer be borne, and war broke out.  D'Aubigny, who had unfortunately been superseded by the incompetent Duke of Neemours, gave all the assistance in his power in a subordinate
situation; and Bayardl, the last of the knights, distinguished
himself on this occasion by the personal courage and heroic attachment to his king, which have given him the name of " the
Chevalier without fear and without reproach."  Different,
however, was the estimate which Ferdlinancl the Catholic entertained of the duties of a king and gentleman.  A success lost
half its charm unless it was accompanied with the triumph of
being a trick at, the same time.  WVith this noble principle in
view, he sent his son-in-law, Philip the Handclsome —better
known as the father of Charles the Fifth-to the unsuspicious
Louis at Lyons.  A treaty was entered into.  Charles, the infant son of the negotiator, was to marry Claude, the infant
daughter of the deceived. The two children were to be put
in possession of Naples; and what occasion was there for farther quarrel about a property which was to belong to the
heirs of the contending parties?  Louis was blinded, and
despatchedl immediate orders to abstain from attack, and to
sendl back a portion of his army. Ferdinand, with a chuckle
of gratification, commanlecl G-onsalvo to fall on the unprepared enemy; and in a short time D'Aubigny was defeated at
Seminara, and the Duke of Nemours killed at Cerignolles.
Gonsalvo entered Naples as its master, and the French interest was destroyed. Philip the Handsome was still in Louis's
power. To secure his zeal in the cause, Ferdinand had concealed his intention to deceive; and the ambassador was
alarmed when.1 the news of the Italian battles came to Blois.
C Don't be afraid," said Louis, reassuring him;  it is better
to lose a kingdom  which can be taken again, than one's hlonour which can never be regained."  But noble sentiments
have their reward only in the admiration of the hearers. The
fate of war turned against the French.  Their armies perished from want of care-their generals were unskilful —a storm
dispersed their flee-t; their resources became exhaustedl; and




216              JTLIUS TILE SECOND.         [A. D. 1506
in 1503 they were reduced so low that they lamented the
death of Alexander the Sixth, whose favour they retained to
the last by prodigal generosity to his hateful and favourite
son. The succeeding Pope died in a few weeks, and there
then sat on the papal throne a man of indomitable energy
and almost insane ambition, whose whole heart was set on
the one design of expelling the barbarians from Italy, and
who, to gain this olbject, would stop at no action however
cruel, or deception however base.  This was Julius the Second, the most warlike of the Roman pontiffs, who loved battle for its own sake, but in a double degree when it led Lto
the withdrawal of the foreigner. His plottings and intrigues
began at once. Spain was in his interest, and Gonsalvo sent
the execrable Casar Borgia to expiate his crimes by perpetual imprisonment in Castile. An opportunity soon offered, as
Julius hoped, to embroil the two powers against whom his
wrath was principally directed.
The great idea of the Balance of Power-that is, such a
just distribution of force, either by alliance or internal resources, between the different States, that no one shall preponderate over the others-began to be adopted as the policy
of Europe. Louis was therefore uneasy when he reflected,
that if he executed the covenants of the Treaty of Blois, and
gave his daughter Claude to the heir of Ferdinand and Isabella, the power of the Spanish house would be paramount.
The young Charles, the grandson of the Spanish monarchs,
was already destined to unite under his crown Germany, and
Naples, and the Netherlands, and Spain, and the illimitable
domains newly discovered in America., If, in addition to
these, he obtained all the female fiefs of France, the counties
of Burgundy and Artois, and the duchy of Brittany, besides
the Italian rights of his proposed bride to Miilan and Genoa,
nothing would be left to his successor on the throne of France
which could withstand so mighty a confederation. Yet he
was bound by the contract; and unluckily the new Pope was
-more afraid of the Castilian Ferdinand than of him, though
he equally hated both, and could be of no use in releasing




x. D. 1506.] A GENERAL ASSEMBLY AT TOURS.          217
him from his oaths. He threw himself on his people in this
great emergency, and summoned a general parliament at
Tours. HIe explained the state of his affairs, and asked the
counsel of the States.  They thanked him for his regard for
the future interests of the land, and passed a unanimous
resolution that the Treaty of Blois should not be executed,
They farther humbly requested that, to prevent the possibility of so great a wrong, he would at once marry his daughter to the young Duke of Angouleme, who stood next in
succession failing his heirs-male; and sheltering himself under the plea of this national demand, he bestowed the hand
of Claude on her youthful cousin, who will take a more
prominent part in these pages as Francis the First.  It was
for this he received, by public acclamation of the States assembled at Plessis les Tours, the glorious title of Father of
his People. Meanwhile the mad Pope went furiously through
the land, vowing vengeance equally on Frenchman and
Spaniard, and anxious to set them at war. The wrongs and
disappointment heaped on the young Charles of Austria would
stir up  iis guardians and relatives, he fondly hoped, to revenge.  But Ferdinand the widowed King of Spain, and
Miaximilian the penniless Emperor of Germany, the two
grandfathers of the future Emperor, were more jealous of each
other than anxious for the abasement of France. Louis also
had managed to bribe the old Aragonese to quiescence by
giving him his niece, Germane de Foix, a girl of eighteen, to
replace the aged Isabella of Castile; and, with excellent
judgment, took the opportunity of presenting the beautiful
bride with all his rights to the kingdom of Naples by way of
a marriage gift. Maximilian could do nothing, as he was in
his usual frightful state of impecuniosity; but as he kept a' Book of Insults " in which he entered a list of his enemies,
he inserted Louis's name at full length in the reddest possible
ink, and locked it up in his drawer till an opportunity of revenge should occur. Julius, disappointed in his expectations
of an attack on Louis from  foreign powers, was busied in
weakening him by other means. Genoa, stirred up by his




218              LEAGUE OF CAMBRAI.           [A. D. 1508
emissaries, rebelled; and it required the presence of the king
in person to restore it to his authority.  But great as wAas
the holy pontiff's wrath against France and Spain for polluting the Italian soil with their degrading presence, he hated
the republican freedom and commercial activity of the Venetians more. IHe entered, therefore, with all his accustomed
zeal, into the League of Cambrai, for the destruction of those
lordly and ambitious traders.  George of Amboise, a cardinal
and politician of a different sort from the generality of his
brethren, had been the only counsellor of Louis since his
accession to the throne.  A favourite without beings a flatterer, and a churchman without losing his patriotism, king
and people trusted equally in his honesty and wisdom. Why
he took so prominent a part in this onslaught on the Venetians
it is difficult to divine. It was perhaps a sop to the Pope, who
expected to recover the portions of St. Peter's patrimony
which, he said, the nation of shopkeepers had seized; perhaps
it was a method of uniting on a distant expedition powers
whose enmity would be more dangerous at home. The Emperor, the King of Spain, the Governess of the Netherlands,
the Pope, and several of the smaller potentates, combined
against the carriers of the Adriatic, and swore to drive them
back into their lagoons. Louis passed the Alps, and, as a
matter of course, spread over the plains of Lombardy.  The
Venetians, no whit daunted, met him at Agnadello, and kept
the victory doubtful for a long time.  The issue of the contest at last was the same as it has always been between the
Gauls and Italians since the Roman discipline disappeared.
The troops of Venice dispersed, and the fortunes of the republic seemed desperate.  But the Venetians were Italians;
they spoke the same language as Julius, and aclknowledlged
him. the true successor of St. Peter. They also had money
in their coffers, and territories which once had appertained
to the Church. They sent his holiness some coin, and resigned the lands into his hands. Julius blessed them with
apostolic and personal benedictions, and turned his arms
against his Transalpine allies.  His vengeance, however, was




A. D. 1513.]       COUNCIL OF PISA.                219
principally directed against the French.  He won the Spaniarcls to his side by giving Ferdinand the investiture of
Naples: he won the Swiss infantry from Louis by offering
them higher pay. He formally constituted the inhabitants
of the mountains the Defenders of the Holy See, and immediately let them loose on their former friends. HIe sent them
against Milan; and himself, armed cap-ai-pied, and vowing
vengeance in his heart, led his late enemies the Venetians
against the Genoese, who still yielded homage to the stranger.
He thundered with his cannon against the citadels of the
French as a General commanding-in-chief; and with excommunications against their leaders and supporters as Father
of the Faithful-a bold, bitter-hearted, obstinate old man.
Louis replied with the usual weapons, and, in conjunction
with Maximilian, called a general council at Pisa, who declared against the Pope, and talked of his deposition and a
wide reformation of the Church.  Julius was not to be beaten
in the matter of councils any more than in war. He summoned a meeting of his adherents at Rome, supported by
Henry the Eighth of England and the Spanish King, and
fulminated ferocious edicts against the schismatical assemblage at Pisa.'Var, therefore, went on as before. Gaston
de Foix made but a brief appearance in history, but left his
mark in it by the brightness of his course. Nephew of Louis,
he shared the cool head and determined bravery of that great
ruler, but he added a dash and impetuosity which had no
equal, except in the first campaign of the great Conde. Of
Gaston de Foix, the first campaign was the last. He conquered Italy in as' short a time as the marvellous Napoleon,
and died in the great victory of Ravenna in 1512. With
their triumph clouded by such a loss, the glories of the French
arms in Italy came to an end. Driven in on all points, as
seems always to be the result of a French invasion of that
easily subdued but hardly retained country, Louis sawv no
safety for France itself but in the discord of his enemies.
The English were now added to his foes, and though, fortunately, they were so disgusted with the dishonesty of Ferdi



220         DEATH OF ANNE OF BRITTANY.  [A. I. 1514.
nanci of Spain that they ceased to-coperate in his plans, their
name was still given to the coalition which was rising against
him between Maximilian and the new Pope, Leo the Tenth.
The Battle of the Spurs, as it is called from the rapid retreat
of French cavalry at Guinegate, near Calais, gave Henry the
Eighth the additional excitement of military fame, but no
results followed this first essay, and in the following year
Louis, surrendering the point of honour, and only reserving
his care for the happiness of his people, signed a treaty at
Orleans, on what were thought disadvantageous terms; and
the realm breathed awhile from its exertions. W~hat were
those exertions worth?  What fruit had they produced?
The useless and ambitious marches beyond the Alps are the
only blemishes on the kingly wisdom and patriotic sentiments
of this father of his people. In his domestic proceedings he
was mild, economic, and benevolent, almost to a fault; but
the blare of trumpets and fluttering of flags he was unable to
resist.  The years he wasted in attempts to conquer Italy
wvould have sufficed to establish France in wealth and liberty.
And now at the end of his days, humiliated in his dreams of
glory, but active as ever in his designs of improvement, a
private grief was added to his official sufferings, for Anne of
Brittany died. In his characters of husband and father, he
shone equally as in those of king and warrior. It may even
be doubted whether the purity of his court and simplicity of
his manners were not of more effect in raising him in public
estimation than his policy and battles. With Anne disappeared the modest dignity of his establishment, and he retired
too much from public life. With the marriage of his daughter Claude to the Duke of Angoulleme, his cousin and nearest
heir, his circle was still farther narrowed. It was therefore
with surprise, not unmixed, perhaps, with ridicule, that the
nation heard in October of the same year that its \worn-out
and mournin, sovereign had given his hand to a girl of sixteen, the gay and frivolous sister of our Henry the Eighth,
and that he was affecting all the life and joyousness befitting
a happy bridegroom's place. Tournaments in the morning,




A. D. 1515.]  DEATH OF LOUIS THE TWELFTH.          22]
balls at night, councils, banquets, masquerades,-all these
came upon the prematurely old man of fifty-three, after a
long experience of a very different nmode of life. In his old
queen's time he had risen at an early hour, met his council,
ridden out for exercise, dined in quiet, and gone to bed at
nine o'clock. Nine o'clock was now the commencement of
the day. Mlary of England was unhappy unless she could
drown the remembrance of her own regret, for being sacrificed
to a political union, in gorgeous festivities and dances till
early dawn. Louis sat up, feastel and danced till the
hiypocrisy of enjoyment fell from him at once, ancl on the
1st of January, 1515, three months after his wedding, he
died. France paid noble tribute to the merits of its excellent
king. There was not a hall or a cottage, or even a monastery, where his name was not reverenced as the lover of his
country and defender of its rights. The enthusiastic cry of
the assembly of Tours was ratified by the calm judgment of
his contemporaries, and in spite of the faults of his youth and
the unwise enterprises of his maturer years, his real intentions
were always perceived to be so honourable and so goodl that
he was pronounced once more, without a dissentient voice,
the Father of his People.
Who were that people, and what had they become, since
we took our last survey, and found them rising by slow degrees from their state of ignorance, oppression, and almost
hopelessness, under the weight of an unsympathising church
and trampling aristocracy?  Two hundred and fforty-five
years had passed since the death of St. Louis, at which we
last paused, and things had greatly changed. Many abuses
still remnained, and many wrongs to be complained of; but
the improvement consisted in this, that the abuses were
recognised as such, and there were modes of appeal against
the wrong. The rights of all classes were more clearly ascertained than in the times of the strong hand and obstinate
will. The people, indeed, properly so called, had no separate
or recognised existence in the State. The States-General, in
which they were supposed to be represented, were rarely




202             FALL OF THE NOBILITY.          [A. D. 1515.
summoned, and the'delegates of the Tiers Etat were chosen
principally by the townsmen, and were outvoted by the other
orders.  But the gain to the commonalty was very great in
the mere diminution of the aristocratic power.  Legalism had
done its work, and tied up the sword of the nobility.  It had
filled the country districts with representatives of the Crown
who laid no claim to antiquity of birth, but who, in course
of time, became elevated by their merits, or eloquence in the
local parliaments, into a species of nobility of the robe, which
held equal rank in the discussion of provincial affairs with
the proudest of the neighbouring lords.  Sickened with their
inferiority in legislative or judicial ability, the relics of Cregy
and Poictiers and Agincourt sank into a body without duties,
who derived all their eminence in the realm from the favour
of the sovereign. Yet, with a fond clinging to the forms of
the past after its realities had passed away, they retained some
of the shows of their former supremacy, which might be irritating, indeed, to their neighbours, but could add nothing to
their dignity or importance.  They still held their courts;
but they were more like our courts-baron for the settlement
of dues and quit-rents than for the decision of causes.  The
castles were themselves made to give outward demonstration
of their fallen grandeur; the towers and battlements which
the symbolising spirit of chivalry had limited to the magnates
with the right of holding courts of justice, with power over
life and limb, were taken down by royal order.  An unbartisaned wall meant a dependent owner, as a town deprived of
its bells was considered disfranchised.  It was only by special
favour that a few of the representatives of the Great Vassals
were allowed in their residences to retain those emblems of
independent authority. But the ordinary nobility clung to
whatever fragments of ancient superiority the law or custom
left them.  A  list of those fantastic privileges would be
ridiculous, if we did not see how they increased in after times
the dislike between the classes.  Some proprietors, for instance, in remembrance of the old days of their prIedecessors;
powers, ornamented their lawns, with more vanity than taste,




A. D. -1515.]    THE FIRST PRINTED BOOK.              223
with two gibbets-one in emblem of their civil, and the othei
of their criminal jurisdiction.  They clung also pertinaciously
in theory to the right they had possessed of putting their
wives to death, when they had offended them past forgiveness, with the edge of the sword; whereas, the vulgar townsman, under the same provocation, was limited to his fist as
his instrument of castigation, and took the chance of having
his face scratched or his hair pulled in return.  Empty
boasts and foolish pretensions of this kind may seem no very
considerable element in the consideration of a national position; but at that time, and for many years afterwards, the
consciousness of present weakness and personal uselessness on
the part of the gentry of the land led them  to the most
offensive reminiscences of their former supremacy, and to an
open contempt for the Roturier or unennobled families, for which
a mere exemption from the legalised oppressions of the nobility was an inadequate compensation.  An aristocracy which
is deserving of national gratitude for its activity and patriotism, is uniformly respectful of the feelings no less than the
rights of the other classes.
But, surer guard against either insults or oppressions, by
the diminution of the nobles' power, and the jurisdiction of
local parliaments, and the freedom of powerful cities, was
the great invention which put new armour into the hands of
the middle class, and enabled a knowledge of rights and
duties to be universally diffused. In 1455 the first printed
book appeared in France. Guttenberg and Faust had perfected the wondrous art; and from  thenceforward  men's
thoughts were stamped in imperishable material, and found
their way into all corners of the land. Before this time the
tedious process of transcribing with the pen was the only
means of multiplying copies of a work. Froissart, himself
the prose poet of expiring knighthood, and the most interestingo of all the authors of his time-and Alain Chartier,
the first of French versifiers-and  others who  charmed
wherever they were heard,, were only known in the halls of
the nobility by being read aloud, and then the volume was




224             EFFECTS OF PRINTING.         [A. D. 1515.
locked up as something too precious to be exposed. Books
were of enormous price, for a lifetime was bestowed upon
their transcription. But with the first turn of the Press, the
poor man, or at least the comfortable shopkeeper, was placed
on a level with the highest. He read the volumes upon volumes which the first impulse of publicity poured out; and
now the chronicler, the dramatist, the poet, the preacher, all
found that their audience was immeasurably increased. The
town halls began to possess libraries, which were hitherto
limited to the richest monasteries and the palaces of kings.
Charles the Fifth, who was devoted to the improvement of
his people, possessed only nine hundred volumes in 1380 after
the accumulating labours of his life. Now, in the first forty
years of Guttenberg's invention, there were thousands of
separate works poured forth upon the world. The Bible
first in place as in honour, led the way. The authors of
ancient Rome and modern Italy, the theologians of Spain,
and the " Tale of Troy" in England, with Chancer the foremost of our poets-these felt the new impulse, and not only
spread a reverence for the past, but awakened the ambition of
living men. There was now a wider theatre for glory-a
stronger court of appeal than had ever been known before.
Where power was insufficient to repel an injustice, there was
the frightful punishment, to be dreaded by the wrongdoer,
of a satirical attack which would fly from town to town on
sheets of printed paper; and where the love of right was not
powerful enough to make a great man just, the Press was at
hand to stir him to good actions by the hope of praise. The
age of patrons began when the scholar's pen was found an
instrument of weight. In former ages he would have been
flogged and imprisoned for his importunity; he was now
caressed as the arbiter of taste and giver or withholder of fame.
A new language and literature had risen from the grave
at the very time that men's minds were thus prepared to give
it a noble welcome. Constantinople, in 1458, was taken by
the Turks, a set of irreclaimable barbarians who are allowed
to defile the finest situation for a capital in the world, by the




A. D. 1515.]           THE ARTS.                    22 
fear of the advantage which might be taken of it by a power
which could grow with the growth of wisdom and strengthen
with the strength of experience; and great colonies of scholars
and philosophers, entertaining the thoughts, and understanding, if not speaking, the language of Plato and Aristotle, settled in all parts of the West.  Greek became a study among
all the curious and intelligent.  The narrow circle of Roman
learning and European infant literature, was widened so as
to give a full view of the vanished past and embrace the
prospect of a hopeful future. But the effects of this importation were not permanent on the mind of the recipients of the
newly reacquired ideas.  The word had been given, " Forward!" and not the magic of Homer or sweetness of Plato
could hinder the great march.  It was like the recovery of
some vast treasure hid for a long time at the bottom of the
sea; it added to the essential wealth, but was not admitted
into the currency.  The metal was solid, but the impress put
it out of date, and fitted it to be heaped up in college halls,
to be played with as valuable counters, or shown as specimens of a vanished coinage.  There were riches enough of
its own discovery to satisfy the ambition of the time.  In
Italy, rising as if by enchantment, the Fine Arts awakened
after a sleep of a thousand years. Architecture reached its
proudest moment at the end of this period, when St. Peter's
began to rise from the ground, and the great works of Perugino, Leonardclo, and Raphael, showed painting in the palmiest
state it has ever attainedc; elevated above the mere reproduction of colour and outline by ennobling its subjects with sentiment and imnagination, and exchanging the trivial accuracy
of detail for the noble concentration of the whole on the grand
ideal conveyed by the story delineated.  Everywhere rivals
and disciples of those illustrious men enriched chapels and
galleries with their fresh creations.  Michael Angelo and his
pupils designed temples worthy of such transcendant; ornaments; and the heart was in danger of forgetting the object
for which Christian churches were erected, in what might
Lave seemed a restoration of the old classic paganism, where
15




226             AMEERICA DISCOVERED.         [A.D. 1515.
Art was itself a religion, and admiration of the beautiful a
duty and worship.
But the impulse thus given was not limited to Florence
and IRome. The public mind was everywhere alive, so many
things had occurred in a short time. France had actually
become one undivided realm; there was one people and one
king. Printing had stirred the most sluggish imagination
with anticipation of what was to come; the rise of Greek
studies elevated the dullest with remembrances of what had
been. Uniting these two —opening out a page in a mysterious history of the ages which had been passed in darkness,
and of the coming times in which their course would be performed in the light of day —the vas-t countries of America
had burst upon the knowledge of Europe in 1492, and filled
the hearts of thoughtful men with a wonder not unmixed
with awe. France, always the liveliest of European nations,
grudged to the sombre Spaniard the mastery of these strange
realms, to which its own brilliancy would have been more
adapted, and blamed its king for rejecting the offer of Columbus, which would have opened such a field for its enterprise
and genius. But it was on this account more watchful of the
proceedings of its successful neighbour, and when Francis the
First came to the throne, the patriotism which bound it to its
native king was heightened by fear of the preponderating
forces of a rival monarchy, on which already, it was boasted,
the sun never set.  The French had tastecd so much liberty,
Ucnder the benevolent Louis the Twelfth, that they were prepared to guard the blessings they had obtained against the
assaults of so ambitious a potentate as now threatened them
on every side; and the great feature of the coming time is
submission to the Crown and jealousy of Spain.




CHAPTER IX.
FRANCIS THE FIRST,-A.D. 1515 TO A.D. 1547.
WHEN Louis the Twelfth was dying, his thoughts travelled
from the past to the future.  He said, " I have done all for
the best, but that big boy —gros garonlz —d'Angoula me, will
spoil all."  A self-willed, brave-hearted, luxurious, and unprincipled youth of twenty-one at the time of his accession,
Francis the First seemed only too likely to justify his predecessor's prophecy. Instead of the policy of emulation and
improvement by the encouragement of self-reliance and mutual confidence which had earned Louis the noblest title
known in history, he inaugurated a system of concentration
of all the powers of the State in his own person, from which
in the succeeding reigns many calamities proceeded.  Despotism could not exist in the time of feudalism, on account
of the resistance of the nobility. It could not finally establish itself on the overthrow of the great vassals, on account
of the franchises of the towns, and the number of independent
courts and councils. It was the aim of Francis, the lover of
the arts and encourager of literature, the friend of learned
men and pupil of Bayardc, to combine the hero and the statesman —to rule in all the departments of the nation, not for the
avowed or even unacknowledCged purpose of curtailing its liberties, but simply from the conviction he entertained that he
was the wisest man in France, the most honest of her statesmen, and the most patriotic of her soldiers. By dint of some
years' perseverance in this persuasion, he succeeded in impressing it upon the belief of all his subjects. It was, therefore, in this reign that the germs of the faith which afterwards




228               CHANGE OF POLICY.           LA. D. 1515.
grew into the avowed identity of the King and the State, bee
gan to flourish. Patriotism  limited itself to loyalty to the
king. The will of the monarch became law without the
sanction of a parliament. Counsellors who used to dcirect the
public acts of Louis the Twelfth, were mere clerks to register
the decrees of his successor; and at the very time when the
mind of Europe had finally thrown off the turbulent supremacy of armed barons, and was about to shake off the more
incumbering chains of the Church of Rome, the peerage, and
the bar, and the people of France, put themselves willingly
into the tutelage of a single power, gallant and generous in
this individual instance, but leading to deep sufferings and
tremendous catastrophes in future years.  The trustful suicides of the days of Francis the First were the primary origin
of the regicides of the Great Revolution.  Liberties surrendered so lightly had to be reclaimed with terrible throes.
The first step by which he showed his wisdom, was to
repeat the only great failure in the reign of Louis the Twelfth.
He marched across the Alps, showed great personal valour at
the showy battle of Marignano, and made himself master of
the Milanese. Establishing a viceroy in his new acquisitions,
he returned to enjoy the adulation of Paris, and give proofs
of his superiority in other directions. It is a curious evidence
of the high position held by the Doge and Senate of Venice,
that the Most Christian King, the conqueror of upper Italy,
considered it one of the highest compliments he could receive,
when the Seigneury of the commercial city in the Adriatic
constituted him and his descendants "Noble Venetians." In
the course of this campaign he had an interview with the Pope,
and his next move in the aggrandisement of his authority was
the old one we have seen so often made by his predecessorsa sacrifice of the liberties of the Gallican Church. The Pragmatic Sanction had never virtually been repealed; the aggressions of Rome were always fully met both by king and
clergy. But Francis saw that a national establishment would
a(ld immense weight to the national cause, unless controlled
by a power in his own interest; and a concordat, the sure




i- D. D. 1o19.]  DEATH OF MAXIMILIAN.                 229
pillar of tyranny, placed the Church helplessly at the feet of
Leo tile Tenth.  Great opposition was made to this capitulation, by parliaments andl people; but the feeling of loyalty
and implicit obedience was already strong, and the submission
was at last made. Tile rescripts henceforth ran in the avowed
style of despotic power, "For such is our good pleasure."
Two years after the victory of lMarignano the Emperor Maxirailian died. The chief kings at this time in Europe, you are
to remember, were all young and vigorous men.  Henry the
Eighth of England, manly and open in manner, excellent
handler of the quarter-staff, and champion of the tournay
ring, was twenty-eight; Francis of France, handsome as an
Apollo, and strong as a Hercules, was twenty-five; and
Charles of Spain, small in stature, plain in feature, and very
reserved in disposition, was nineteen. The place of Emperor
was the highest dignity in Europe. It entailed great trouble,
and as it was endowed with only a formal sort of authority,
such as is vested in the president of a council of equals, it
needed the support of some external influence to contain
within any moderate bounds the unruly feudal nobility which
still flourished undisturbed in the different states of Germany.
But the name of the Empire set the three young potentates
on fire.  Our blustering Henry was soon disposed of as more
unmistakably a foreigner than either a Frenchman or Spaniard.
The other two entered into active opposition. Both bribed,
-Francis with lavish generosity, but the cautious Charles
with more judgment.  He gave his doubloons to the right
men, and won the prize.  The Electors assembled at Frankfort pronounced their award, and Francis prepared to punish
his rival for his success. Whenever these three rulers appear,
we see their characters come out as if the creations of a skilful
dramatist: Henry, arrogant and ostentatious, good-natured,
and easily led by flattery and admiration; Francis of a higher
class of mind, but covering his worst qualities under an affectation of generosity and chivalrous sense of honour; and
Charles, self-contained, firm-willed, false, and cold-blooded.
Constantly the victor over his competitors, we turn with a




230         FIELD OF THE CLOTI —OF-GOLD.   [A. D. 1521
kindlier personal feeling to the bluff murderer of his wives,
and the knightly trampler on his people, than to the sagacious,
scheming, half-Fleming, half-Spaniard, with the grasping acquisitiveness of the one, and the proud fanatical unforgiveness
of the other. An old head upon young shoulders-often used
as a phrase of commendation-is the most disgusting sight
in the world.  And this iman's head was as old and his heart
as callous at twenty as at fifty-seven. The difference between
Francis and Charles was shown in their respective treatment
of Henry the Eighth. Francis vied with him  in the gorgeousness of his appearance at the famous Field of the Clothof-Gold, where the monarchs met, and displayed the wealth
and folly of their retainers, and hampered their future proccedings by the extravagance of equipage and dress.  The
two kings feasted, and laughed, and even wrestled together;
but nothing resulted from their meeting bout the bankruptcy
of half their courtiers, and the waste of a vast quantity of
silk and feathers. Charles sailed quietly over from Gravelines
to Dover; talked long and solemnly with the English sovereign, and gave Cardinal Woisey-in strict confidence-a
promise of his interest at the next election for Pope. This
was better than wasting a realm's income in wine and fine
clothes; and accordingly NVolsey, who was all-powerful with
his master, turned his influence in favour of the sedate young
man who looked so modest but soared so high, and had the
good taste to think him a fitting occupant of St. Peter's chair.
That chair, unluckily for Charles, became vacant too soon.
Leo the Tenth, having achieved his victory over the Gallican
Church by the concordat of 1517, showed no great gratitude
to his benefactor.  He sided against the French; and when
Francis sent Lautrec into Italy to defend the 3Milanese, and'
that unfortunate general, thwarted by enemies at home, and
hated by the Italians for his pride and insolence, was driven
back over the Alps, Leo was so enraptured by the news of the
French humiliation that lie died of the unexpected joy, and
Wolsey looked across towards the judicious Emperor in monmentary expectation of a summons to Rome. Adrian the




A. D. 1524.]     TREASON OF BOURBON.                231
Sixth, an old Dutchman, who had been Charles's tutor in the.Netherlands, was installed in the Vatican, and Wolsey transferred his aff^etions to Francis. Yet, for a while, his favourite
derived no benefit from the change. HIenry the Eighth was
tenmpted by offers which Francis himself could not equal, for
treachery had got into the court and family of the French
King, and Henry was ready to profit by the crime. The
identity which Francis had even now established between his
royal person and the land he governed, made a quarrel with
himself equivalent to hostility to France. To be disloyal was
to be unpatriotic.  The Constable de Bourbon was a near
kinsman of the Crown, and had the misfortune to offend the
King's mother, by refusing her advances when he was left a
widower in 1521. Repulsed in her love, she made him feel
the bitterness of her hatred, and brought claims before the
tribunals which crippled him of the possessions conveyed to
him by his wife.  The chancellor sided with the offended
widow, and the parliament decided in her favour.  Bourbon,
discontented with the king's judges, hated the king. He
entered into correspondence with the enemies of France, because he could not see the distinction between the land and
its ruler. A treaty of spoliation and partition was signed.
England was to have the northern counties, and Spain the
provinces in the south. Between them, Bourbon himself, a
popular king, was to supplant the unjust Francis, and show
what a potent enemy could be made out of a discontented
friend. He left the court in disgust, after a hypocritical
interview with the king, traversed the whole of the country
from Moulins to the Alps, and at last found a safe asylum at,
St. Claude, on the Jura, in the territories of Charles the
Fifth. There he openly renounced his allegiance, and turned
his dishonoured sword against his countrymen. The Admiral
Bounivet, hot upon the heels of Bourbon, hurriedly laid siegeto Milan, and hoped to reduce it to obedience to the king.,
But everything went unfavourable for the French.  M[ilan
was relieved, and Bounivet crossed the Ticino in retreat.,
After him came Bourbon, burning with personal animosityi




232              DEATH OF BAYARD.            [A. D. 1525
at the head of the Italians and Spaniards. We have already
named the Chevalier Bayard, and seen how, in spite of his
want of interest and his slow advancement, his glory had
become a boast of the whole of France.  Francis had
honoured himself by receiving knighthood from the sword of
a man who held no higher rank than that of Captain in his
military array; but on this occasion, when danger bad opened
the way for merit, the dukes and marquesses were passed over;
Bounivet, wounded at the bridge, gave his general's baton to
the plain chevalier, and for a moment the command was in
fittest keeping. But an arquebus ball crushed his side, and
he was carried from the field. Past him poured the pursuing
enemy, and among them Bourbon the traitor. All the good
qualities of that misled but generous nature, were called forth
by the piteous sight. He pulled up his horse and said, how
much he grieved to see the condition of his friend.  " Grieve
not for me, sir," said Bayard, "I die like an honest man.
But blush for yourself. You are a Frenchman and a prince,
and yet you carry on your shoulder the livery of Spain, and
your armour is dashed with the blood of your countrymen."
Bourbon was silent, and passed on. Bayard confessed himself
to one of his attendants, as there was no priest to be found,
and said his last prayer with his eye fixed on the cross formed
by the hilt of his sword. The descendant of Amadis de Gaul
died of a musket bullet, to show that chivalry was out of
date.
Chivalry, happiness, and self-respect, were all out of date
in the heart of the wretched Bourbon. He pushed his forces
into France, and found that he was deserted and despised by
the adherents whom he had expected to follow his example.
Forced to lay siege to Marseilles by the express command of
his new master, it must have been some consolation to him
to see the Spanish squadron defeated by Andrew Doria, who
commancded the fleet of France.  He retreated across the
Alps,. andcl led the fragments of his gallant army, in pitiable
condition, to Genoa. Francis determined to follow his enemy
to his lair; and again there streamed towards the Alps, an




A. D. 1525.]      BATTLE OF PAVIA.                 233
array of armed men, which seemed to have sprung from the
ground at the mere announcement of an Italian campaign.
It was more like a continuation of the Field of the Cloth of
Gold than an ordinary army: all the princes superbly armed,
and surrounded by their personal attendants; the marshals
of France, the great nobles, clown to the simple barons, all
vying with each other in brilliancy of appointments and beauty
of their horses. These alone formed a powerful cavalry.
There were thirty-thousand foot-soldiers, the best in Europe,
and a field artillery worthy of the other arrangements of the
march. The magnificence of the army was its ruin. Francis
burned to distinguish his courage, which nobody doubted, and
despised the delays of generalship, which would have secured
him an easy triumph. From  Milan, which opened its gates
without resistance, he despatched a strong force towards the
kingdom of Naples, on which he already meditated an attack;
and as an occupation in the mean time, laid siege to the
strong city of Pavia.  Bourbon had not been idle.  He had
raised new levies in Germany, and obtained a loan of money
in Savoy. Lannoy, the Neapolitan Viceroy, and Pescara,
the Spanish commander, had also increased their troops.
W" Wait but a short time," said Chabannes and Montmorency,
and the other experienced leaders of the French: " rest
quietly upon your arms, and these discordant elements will
dissolve."  " What! interrupt the siege," replied Francis,
"CC and withdraw at the threat of a traitor like Bourbon? No!
I will fight."  He drew up his army in a plain, and the Imperialists saw a chance for escaping from their position, which
had, in fact, become untenable. WVhat valour could do was
done. The French rushed on with their national impetuosity,
and were mown down by the well directed artillery of the
enemy, and the distant fire of the musketeers. Confusion at
last fell upon them.  Chabannes was taken prisoner, and
d'Alengon, the next in rallk, withdrew.  Francis fought as
if the sword of Bayard were in his hand.  But crowds kept
pouring on. He was gradually hemmed closer and closer, and
some of the devoted band who combated at his side, advised




234             FRANCIS A PRISONER.          [A. D. 1525
him to surrender to the Constable.  " Better die," cried
Francis, " than yield to a traitor.  Call Lannoy." The viceroy of Naples dismounted and received his royal prisoner's
sword upon his knee.
Such a disastrous day had not gloomed upon France since
Agincourt. Knights and nobles encumbered the plain. The
captives were of great value, and every house in the country
had to lament a member slain or in durance. Francis wrote
to his mother, whom he had left as regent: "Madam, all is
lost except our honour." But honour, as Falstaff says, could
neither set a leg nor compensate for so ruinous a blow. The
honour he prized was the paltry reputation of not being
afraid. No Frenchman is when there is any witness to admire his bravery. But the calm young man at Madrid had
a different estimate of honour. HIe had his rival brought into
Spain, and kept him in severe confinement. He had the
soul of a pawnbroker, and resolved to make the most of his
pledge. A new advantage promised itself when the sister of
Francis, the fair and fascinating Margaret of Alengon, hurried
to Madrid to console her imprisoned brother. Her safe-conduct was only for three months, and Charles consultecl his
almanac to see the exact day of its expiry. In the mean time
Margaret exerted all her powers. The Spanish nobles were
won over by so graceful and fascinating a pleader; Charles
himself appeared to yield, and Margaret might have been deceived. But as time went on, preparations were made for her
arrests and emissaries were reported to be gathering between
her and the borders. Warned of these proceedings, the
duchess hurried from Madrid, and put the Bidassoa between
her and the magnanimous Emperor, on the very day her safeconduct came to an end. Charles was now at the summit of
his ambition. He had Italy at his feet, and his enemy in his
hands. But a premature assurance of success was the rock
on which he split. He neglected his instruments now that
the work was done: he offended Henry the Eighth by his silence, and WVolsey by the coldness of his letters; the Pope
was afraid of so powerful a neighbour; Pescara was disgusted




A. D. 1526.]      HE IS SET FREE.                  235
with so ungrateful a master; Bourbon was disappointed at
the breach of his engagements. Nobody continued heartily
in the cause of a man who was so evidently " concentrecl all
in self." Francis looked out of his dismal window, and
thought how brightly the sun was shining at Fontainebleau,
ancl how beautifiul the woods upon the Loire.  Charles worked
upon his regrets and hopes. A paper was brought in for him
to sign; and the captive would have signed anything for a
breath of native air and the familiar sound of his native
tongue. He agreed to resign his claims on Italy-to surrender Burgundy to the Emperor-to give him up towns and
counties, and relieve him from homage, and marry his sister,
and pay his debts, and do anything he required. Among
other things, he bound himself to obtain the sanction for these
surrenders from the courts and parliaments, and the chief municipalities of the realm. A strange pit, this last article, into
which the despotic Charles fell, and the last help bestowed
upon the Crown of France by the liberties of the towns and
burglhs; for who could expect that such shameless extortions
would be ratified by the basest of burgesses, or enregistered
in the records of any assemblage where Frenchmen were convened?  The signature was made; the hostages, the two
sons of Francis, were given up; a horse was waiting, saddled
and bridled, on the opposite shore of the boundary river, and
Francis, raising his hat, and sinking the rowels into the flanks,
galloped and galloped, without rest or pause, till he reached
St. Jean de Luz. Dreading still an ambush of the Spaniards, and hating more and more the sombre dungeon he had
inhabited, he pushed on, till at last he breathed in safety and
happiness within the stout walls of Bayonne.  There he felt
he was a gentleman and king once more. He showed he was
a scholar too, and talked a good deal about Regulus, the Roman general, who had returned to his chains among the Carthagenians when he found the conditions of his deliverance
could not be fulfilled. He showed himself a good Catholic
also, and made terms with the Pope-very advantageous
terms for that astute old man. Henry of England came ovei




236        THE CAPTURE AND SACK OF ROME. [A. D. 1527.
to his side; for W5olsey was more incensed against the Emperor than ever by a new disappointment in his hopes of the
tiara. All the little princelets of Italy joined his cause, ill
dread of the Spanish power; and in a few months the eluancipated captive was able to show the envoy who was sent from
Madrid to remind him of the treaty, not only a flat refusal
from every one of the courts and municipalities of France to
dismember the kingdom of a yard of ground, but an alliance
sworn and sealed between the different powers named above,
which would enable him, if he chose to join it, to deliver
his hostage children by force, and drive the Imperialists out
of Italy.  This league was under high auspices. Henry the
Eighth was its protector, and the Pope was its head. It was
therefore called the Holy League; but, like all holy things in
those days, it was not treated with the reverence its name
seemed to demand. Bourbon, the renegade Frenchman, still
in the service of the Emperor, showed himself a recreant son
of the Church. Having a corps of Germans and other people
who had imbibed the religious faith of Luther, and entertained a prodigious idea of the wealth of the luxurious clergy, he
appealed to their new-found Protestantism  and long established-poverty, by promising them the overthrow of the Pontiff's authority, and the sack of Rome. The Old Testament
furnished those Bible students with their models for the
treatment of the Idolaters, as the New had given them arguments against the riches of the priests. In a mingled fury
of fanaticism and avarice, they forced the walls of the Eter..
nal City, though Bourbon himself was killed at the first discharge, and all the horrors of religious hatred, and desire of
gold, and the unbridled license of a dissolute soldiery, were
let loose upon the town. Clement, the pope, fled to the castle of St. Angelo, and for several months heard the cries of
his tortured subjects. At the end of that time he surrendered himself prisoner to the Spanish commander.  Charles
heard of his success in Madrid, and immediately set on foot
processions of weeping monks, to bewail the calamities of the
holy city, and to recite prayers for the deliverance of the




A. D. 1529.]      THE LADIES  PEACE.                237
father of the faithful.  He also afflicted himself, and fasted
on the same melancholy occasion, but wrote to his general to
keep the Pope in sure custody, and to extort from his holiness the towns of Piacenza and Placencia, and to place. a'
Spanish garrison in the castle of St. Angelo itself. His prayers were less successful than his secular instructions, and for
a while the hypocritical deceiver rejoiced in his duplicity.
But deliverance came from  another hand. Lautrec, the
French general, appeared before Rome, and the Pope was
given over to him by the satiated occupants of his capital.
They retired from the States of the Church, and left the field
open for the enemy. Lautrec wreaked a useless vengeance on
Pavia as the scene of the discomfiture of his master, and laid
siege to Naples itself.  There the usual result occurredsuccess in actual war, followed by defeat and calamity, caused
by the hatred of the people. The besiegers' supplies were cut
off, the heat became oppressive, Lautrec died, and the army
was decimated by pestilence and want.  One campaign in
Italy is so like another, that it would serve to describe them
all if we said the French burst triumphantly on the land, and
after a short time were expelled with half their number. The
episode of Bourbon's desertion and the sack of Rome are the
distinguishing features of this particular war, and after those
events the interest, even at that time, gradually diminished.
Francis, after many alternations of fortune, agreed to a
peace at Cambrai, called the " Ladies' Peace," because it was
negotiated by the sisters of the contending potentates, lMargaret of Austria and Margaret of Angouleme-one, governess
of the Netherlands-the other, regent of France in the absence of the king. The hostage-princes were to be restored
on payment of two million crowns; but in other respects so
many compromises were made on each side, that things were
brought as nearly as possible to the condition they were in
before the war began. Italy was surrendered by the French
king, and Eleanor of Portugal, the sister of the Emperor, bestowed on him in return.  These terms were proposed years
before; and all the blood and suffering of the fairest portions




238               HENRY THE EIGHTH           [A. D. 1529
of Europe might have been saved, if two guilty and ambitious
monarchs had accepted them in peace. A discontented and
troublesome conquest like 3Milan, which Francis was compelled to surrender, was not a more desirable acquisition than
the middle-aged widow with whom he was forced to content
himself. But family interests played a greater part in the
policy of the world at that time than they are allowed to do
now. This peace of 1529, which re-established the Pope,
and gave the Milanese to the Sforzas, and confirmed Florence
to the MIedicis, was owing in a great measure to a marriage
and a divorce. Charles the Fifth, having obtained a husband for his sister, was now called on to preserve a husband
for his aunt; for Henry the Eighth at this time foundl his
remorse insupportable, for the sin of having wedded his brother's widow. He felt it, also, his imperative duty to strengthen the succession to his throne by leaving a legitimate son.
For this purpose the aged Catherine was to be got rid of, and
the young and blooming Anna Boleyn installed in her place.
But Catherine had strong allies.  The Emperor was her
nephew, the Pope was her friend, and she had given birth to
a daughter, who was now growing up to womanhood, and
whose conduct was irreproachable.  The Emperor, however,
was not popular in England.  The grave and thoughtful part
of the community had doubts about the claims and authority
of the Pope; the frivolous probably wished an enlivenment
of the court, over which the dull and ascetic Castilian threw
a constant gloom. Anna Boleyn was gay and beautiful, gifted with all the graces of form and manner, and rich in all the
accomplishments of the time. The minute steps by which
the divorce was gained belong more to the history of England
than of France; how by degrees the passions of the king became enlisted on the side of the Reformers; and how, probably with perfect sincerity, he persuaded himself that the dictates of his desire for marriage with Anna were the result of
inward conviction of the truth of Protestantism.  We have
only in this place to see the effects of this strange incident on
the affairs of Francis, who was deterred by no delicacy or




A. D. 1534.]      RENOUNCES POPERY.                239
scruple from the gratification of all his fancies, andc therefore
had no occasion to consult either pope or presbyter on their
theological views of matrimony or divorce. Another weapon,
however, he now felt was placed in his hands by the sensitiveness of his English neighbour. A promise to use his influence with the pope to sanction the separation from Catherine
insured him the assistance of England in opposing Spain. A
kind of triangular duel, as it has been facetiously called, was
fought between those three. If Charles fired at Francis,
Henry fired at Charles. But the game they played was too
full of fin,,esse to be understood by the observers.  Clement
desired to hold all within the power of the Church, and coquetted with Charles at one time and HEenry at another. At
last Henry lost patience altogether, and marriedl the object
of his affection, less disgusted with popery than with the Pope.
Anathemas and excommunications were the music of his
wedcling-feast, and England threw off her allegiance to the
chair of St. Peter.
Henceforth Francis saw his policy made more difficult.
How could the Most Christian King give aid and countenance
to a schismatic and rebel like HIenry in his controversies with
the Most Catholic of Emperors?  And yet, without his support to the struggling interests of the Protestants and the
recreant King of Englandcl, that Most Catholic of Emperors
would attain the undisputed mastery of Europe. For a long
time the preaching of Luther had made no impression in
France. It was only when the German adherents of the
great Reformer grew numerous enough to become worthy of
political notice that the nature of his doctrines was closely
examined. Already the vices of the clergy ancl the assumptions of Rome had created thousands of opponents, who spoke
out against the corruptions of the papacy without an idea
that they were Protestants by so doing. Margaret, the beautiful sister of Francis, who made her escape so opportunely
from Spain, was now Queen of Navarre by her marriage with
Henry d'Albret, the monarch of that toy-like kingdom, and
gathered round her a court of the most determined reformers,




2 10         PROTESTANTISM ENCOURAGED.   LA. D. 1535.
whose weapons were not text and history, but song, and
epigram, and satire. First among the poets was the fair
Queen herself; and dogmas, which might have survived,
though proved false, expired when they were discovered to be
ridiculous. Francis, also endued like Margaret with a love
of literature and taste for the arts, pursued the sarme course
of encouraging the wit and talent and scholarship of the time
by appointments to professorial chairs, and pensions on his
private purse, without perceiving that he was nourishing Protestantism by every gift he bestowed upon genius, for all the
intellect of the time was engaged on the side of the Reformation,
Even the scholars and statesmen who professedly adhered to
the ancient faith, were unrestrained by any considerations of
reverence or obedience in the torrent of epigram, satire, and
denunciation they poured forth on the abuses of the Church
and the vices of the clergy. Monks of all colours, black and
grey, with all their trumpery-luxurious abbots and dissolute
bishops, found less favour at the hands of Sir Thomas 3More
and Erasmus than in the writings of Luther and Hutten
Yet no art or entreaty was left untried to induce Erasmus to
domicile himself in France.  The Princes of the League of
Smalkald, which was formed in 1529 for the protection of
liberty of worship, were kindly treated. Solyman himself, the
greatest enemy of the faith and most celebrated Sultan of the
Turks, found favour with the Most Christian King when he
applied for help against the Emperor in Hungary.
But suddenly he saw the fault he had committed. Catholic Christendom  suspected his religious truth, and a suspicion of this sort would weaken his sovereign power. It is almost impossible for a king to be a despot unless he is supported by a despotic church. And despotism was the work of
Francis's life. He entered, therefore, into competition with
his great rival in showing his attachment to the Holy See.
He burned heretics in the great cities, and made adhesion to
the new opinions a crime against the Crown. Charles on the
other hand, led an expedition into Africa, and slaughtered
the infidels in a new crusade. Victorious over Barbarossa,




A. n). 1536.]   BRAVADO OF CHARLES.                 241
the usurper of Tunis, and followed by the blessings of the
thousands of Christian captives whom he had delivered from
slavery, he made his way to Rome. There, in presence of the
Pope, he stood forth and made his complaint against Francis.
He declared his readiness to invest one of his sons with Milan,
on such conditions of suzerainty and subjection as he should
afterwards choose to name; failing that, to meet his enemy
foot to foot, on horseback or in a boat, armed cap-.a-piecl or
naked to their shirts; or, finally, to declare internecine war
upon him, binding himself by an oath never to sheathe the
swordc till he had made him the poorest gentleman that ever
lived. After this decent and courageous bravado, at which
the pontiff must have been no little amazed, the assembly
broke up in most admired disorder, and the dogs of war were
let loose. An invasion of France was resolved on, and Charles
already counted his victory so secure that he distributed the
estates of the French nobility among his favourites. An army
of Spaniards and Italians was to overrun Provence, and
another of Flemings to break in on Picardy. Between the
two, Francis was to be crushed. Misfortunes crowded, not
in single file but in battalions, upon the thoughtless but affectionate king. His eldest son Francis, the Dauphin, died at
this time, of poison; but whether administered with the
cognisance of the Emperor, or whether the fairer hand of
Catherine de Medicis, the wife of his younger brother, did
not begin its triumphs of cruelty and murder by opening the
way to the crown for her husband Henry, is left in doubt.
Defection deprived him of some of the strongest fortresses in,
Savoy; and the forces of his enemy were reported to be on
the soil of France. Instantly the courageous Francis was:
roused from his grief and dejection.  The territory in front
of the Spaniards was made a desert; the cattle driven away,
the villages burnt, and parties of resolute horsemen sent forth to?
harass them on the march. Charles expected that all would be
risked on the arbitrament of one great engagement, andl was
foiled by the unexpected tactics. He marched without glory,
for he saw no enemy; and without food, for every field was.
16




24 2         MEETING OF THE POTENTATES.   LA. D. 1531
bare. Sickness came to aidl; and, in frightful disorganisation,
the starving hordes hurried across the Alps, slain and pilb
laged on their way by the angry peasantry, and perishing in
the clefts of the rocks of hunger and fatigue. Thus fell the
pride of the invader almost without a blow.
Francis took now the lofty part which hitherto had been
played by his rival; and at a Bed of Justice in the palace of
the Louvre, summoned his rebellious vassal before his feudal
court, stripped him by solemn sentence of his tenures of Artois,
Flanders, and Charolais, which always had been held of the
French crown, and of which his renunciation at the treaty of
Madrid was null and of no effect, as having been obtained by
violence and fraud.  Beside him, on this great occasion, sat
the King of Navarre and James the Fifth of Scotland, who
had just married the short-lived Madeleine of France;-a
more dionified, though not a more useful demonstration than
the quarrel-scene of his rival at Rome.  The forms of feudalism were occasionally revived to gratify a hatred, as the forms
of chivalry were retained to justify a duel; but the hatred of
the two greatest sovereigns in Europe carried them beyond the
bounds both of feudalism and chivalry.  Their language, by
their respective heralds, would have done honour to two English prize-fighters. They interchanged the names of perjurer
and liar, and reminded each other of the discomfitures they
had sustained; Charles being particularly caustic on the
subject of Pavia and the prison of Madrid, and Francis retorting with reminiscences of the Emperor's overthrow in Provence, and starvation among the hills.  Yet, in a year after
this time, the enemies met, and spent four of the happiest
days of their lives in unrestrained intimacy at Aigues Mortes,
a small seaport on the Mediterranean.  Charles arrived in a
galley.  Francis went on board, and grasping his hand said,
" My brother, you see I am your prisoner again."  Charles
returned the visit on shore; listened well pleased to the open
unsuspecting talk of his companion, and put down all his
sayings and plans, and recollections in his memory, to be
used against him  at the proper time.  He promised him




A. D. 1544.1 SPANIARDS AND ENGLISH IN FRANCE.        243
great things in return for all his confidence; the investiture
of Milan for his son, and aid in all his schemes. A French
king at that time would have sacrificed anything for the
vainglory of establishing himself in Italy.  Charles saw his
triumph, confirmed it by a friendly visit to Paris, and made
use of it by obtaining permission to pass through France to
punish the men of Ghent who had rebelled.  And, when
thus the whole advantages of his superior policy were secured,
he denounced his friend to the indignation of every Christian,
as an ally of Solyman the chief of the Unbelievers, and bestowed the Duchv of Milan on his own son, Philip, the prince
of Spain. Five armies sprang up at the king's lifting his
hand, to revenge this wrong and insult.  But indignation
may raise troops, but cannot raise money.  Fresh burdens
were imposed; church ornaments were coined into crowns,
but still the chest was empty.  La Rochelle set the dangerous example of rebellion on account of its over-taxation, and was
only quelled by alleviation of its payments and pardon of its
behaviour.  Assistance was greedily looked to by both parties.  Solyman, the champion of Mohammedanism, on the
side of Francis, was balanced by Henry, the defender of the
Protestant faith, on the side of Charles.  The Turks, under
the same Barbarossa whom Charles had displaced from Tunis,
besieged Nice, and ravaged the shores of Catalonia.  Henry
did little but keep Scotland from aiding France by the intrigues and menaces with which he sued for the hand of the
unfortunate Mary Stuart, now Queen, for his son Edward.
A great victory at Cericolles, in 1544, added another useless
wreath to the chaplet of French achievements, and for a
moment Milan opened its gates.  But Charles and Henry
were by this time on the soil of France. The Spaniards were at
St. Dizier, the English at Boulogne.  Troops were summoned
from Italy, and collected from all quarters.  Charles steadily
advanced, seized Epernay, and rested in Chateau-Thierry.
Paris almost heard the thunder of his guns; and, flushed with
the possession of Boulogne, Henry was reported to be upon
the march to join the army.




244              DEATH OF FRANCIS.           [A. D. 1547
But other sounds reached the ears of the belligerents
The Protestants in Germany were sharpening their swords,
and Charles feared the men of the Confession of Augsburg
more than the Catholic French. A peace was patched up at
Crespy in the Valois, which left things as they were, and enabled the two monarchs to turn their religious minds to the
extirpation of heresy. The royal heretic who had been the
faithful ally of one of them, and the considerate foe of the
other, contented himself with demanding a bribe of two million crowns for the restitution of his conquests. Our character at that time was more economical than'heroic; and we
seldom set our foot in France, unless on the careful calculation of how much the enemy would give us for going away
again. From this time Francis and Charles had more interests in common than opposed. They both glowed with a hatred of the Reformation which only tyrants can feel. They
persuaded the Pope to summon a general council to extirpate
Lutheranism and Calvinism at once, and while the famous
Council of Trent was gathering from all the orthodox nationalities, they occupied themselves in cruel persecutions of
their suspected subjects. The valleys of Provence, the ancient seats of the Albigenses, were depopulated by the fury
of this modern and sensual De Montfort. But the extirpation was incomplete; a terrible foundation, the hatred of the
survivors, was laid for the religious animosities which in after
years scattered such misery over the land. Old and worn
out with labours and debaucheries of every kind, the king, at
fifty-two, felt all his energy decayed.  Henry the Eighth had
closed his troubled reign in the January of 1547. Francis
brooded over the event as if it had some mysterious connection with his own fate. Fevered and ill at ease, he hurried
from place to place to shake off the dark presentiment; but
journeys, and hunting-parties, and more elegant relaxations,
were all in vain. The machinery would no longer move, and
on the 31st of March in the same year, he followed his riva]l
to the tomb.
The effects of this man's reign on French history, and




A. D. 1547.]        HIS CHARACTER.                 245
even on European manners, was greater than might be expected from the frivolous nature of most of his qualities.
That his influence was injurious no one can doubt who reads
the memoirs of the time; for it is apparent that vice under
him became systematised, and a dissolution of morals which,
in previous periods, would have been at all events concealed
from public observation, was blazoned forth as the accompaniment and proof of gentle blood.  The coarseness and
degradation of the courtiers and gentry were not so much
meant to be hidden, as ornamented by the dressing of polish
and sentiment in which they were involved. Female innocence and manly independence were laughed at as the virtues
of a more savage state or of a lower order of society. Gallant
as one of the ancient Paladins, and elegant in dress and attitude as an ideal of Titian, the king set an example of unbridled profligacy, which is only protected from  the horror
with which we read of the revels of Nero, by the chivalrous
grace with which his wildest excesses were accompanied. A
colouring of romance was added to the grossest and most
ignoble of his attachments, and some of these were elevated
into something which he considered higher than legitimate affections by the affectation of purity and respect. The
modern politeness which bestows lenient names on very
wicked actions, took its rise in the luxurious court of Francis.
People who could not imitate him in his valour or his wit, or
his love of genius, or his patronage of the arts, paid him the
easy compliment of resembling him in his faults. They could
not fight as he did at Mlarignano, nor extemporise a sonnet,
nor receive the last sigh of a Leonardo; but they could sneer
at holiness and goodness; they could support the abuses of a
corrupted and tyrannic priesthood; they could consider the
sweet domestic charities as vulgar and out of place; and they
could spread the contamination of their heartlessness and sensuality wherever their power extended. It was better for the
morals of a nation that a Henry should send half-a-dozen
Anna Boleyns to the block, than that a Francis should place
a succession of his favourites on the topmost step of the
throne.




CHAPTER X.
HENRY THE SECOND, A. D. 1547 TO A. D. 1559.
THE new king, Henry the Second, was eight-and-twenty
years of age, and had been for a long time admitted by his
father to the conduct of public business.  The nation, therefore felt little change when the guiding hand was withdrawn.
Francis for the last five years of his reign had gone back to
the principles of his predecessor Louis the Twelfth, and had
pursued the surest path to popularity by sparing the property
of his people. He became economical of the public income,
and left a considerable sum in the coffers of the State.  The
part played by the discontented feudatories of a former time,
when a great vassal of Languedoc led an army into the field
against a great vassal of Guienne-or when both directed
their forces against the royal power-was now exchanged for
the secret cabals and wretched combinations of beauties and
sycophants.  The struggle was now to get the name of the
king on one side or the other, and under the cloak of that
legal authority to grasp all the patronage and influence of
the realm. It was like the state of affairs where the ancient
mayors of the palace reigned in their puppet's name; only
in this case the mayor of the palace was a lady founding her
empire on the sweetness of her face; or a courtier gaining his
master's ear by flattery and submission; or a queen claiming
her share in right of her position, and regarding no law, human or divine, to attain her object; or, finally, a firm-willed,
strong-handed warrior recommending himself by the unfaltering execution of the cruellest or most illegal decrees. The




A. D. 1547.]  COURT OF HENRY TIlE SECOND.            247
friend and courtier of Henry was the Constable M]ontmorency; his favourite was Diana of Poictiers; his wife was
Catherine de Medicis; and his grim and ambitious general
was Francis Duke of Guise. All these personages performed
distinguished parts in the history of the time, and Henry
himself emerges from obscurity only by the light their quarrels and reconciliations cast upon the central figure.  " Beware of Montmorency," said Francis the First to himn When
he was dying; "he is false and pitiless.  Beware of the
House of Guise; it is unprincipled and ambitious."  He did
not warn him against Diana or Catherine, for he probably
thought the influence of the mistress would cease with the
failure of her beauty, and the character of the Queen had not
yet come into display.  But Diana was one of the women
who either never grow  old, or whose loveliness depends on
some higher element than freshness of feature, for at all periods of her life she was the fairest ornament of the Court,
and retained her influence over the king long after youth or
even middle age was past.  Brantome says she was beautiful
at sixty-five.  Catherine as yet eluded discovery, for she had
the family arts of simulation and concealment, derived from
the Iledicis, in addition to the Italian steadiness of purpose
and recklessness of means. She bided her time in all changes
of circumLstances, as a shark follows a vessel through storm and
calm in expectation of its prey.
The first days of his accession were employed by Henry
in royal progresses through his dominions, shows, and spectacles.  In the last of these he was himself a chief performer,
and no one held the lists with a firmer lance, or overthrew
his opponent with a more scientific thrust.  It must always
be remembered that kings are uniformly successful in bodily
exercises and in playing chess.  To unhorse or checkmate the
sovereign would be high treason as well as bad taste.  His
amusements were diversified by sights of another kind.
There was a duel which made a great sensation, and is now
quloted as illustrative of the manners of the time.  Two
young nobles, De Jarnac and La Chateigneraie, had been




2948               A JUDICIAL DUEL.           [A. D. 1547
intimate friends in the reign of Francis.  Their friendship
was cemented by a community of vice, and therefore did not
stand the shock of their first disagreement.  One of them,
in boasting confidentially of his evil courses, whispered scandal on a lady of the court. The confidant confided it under
the seal of secresy, to somebody else. Somebody else spread
it under the same precautions, and when it was known to all
the world, Jarnac, the original propagator, denied the whole
statement, and threw the accusation of falsehood on Chateigneraie.  Chateigneraie took up the gauntlet; and when
Henry was returned from  his provincial visits, the barriers
were fixed in Paris, and the judicial combat was allowed.
The king and all his court were there, and bets were high in
favour of Chateigneraie, who was tall and strong, and one of
the best swordsmen in France.  But Jarnac, who was little
and active, dashed in below the guard of his scientific rival,
and brought him to the ground by two strokes behind the
knee, and contemptuously gave him his life. A noose dependled over the lists for the use of the defeated combatant,
and Chateigneraie escaped the death of a felon by his adversary's moderation; but his vanity was more fatally wounded
than his body, and he died of grief. This was not a softening or ennobling kind of entertainment to present to lords and
ladies. It was therefore, perhaps, with a view to compensate
for such profane enjoyments that Henry next proceeded to the
slaughter of such of his people as began to think for themselves on religious subjects. Gibbets were erected on the side
of the road by which he made his entrance into the good city
of Paris, and unhappy Protestants were suspended from them
by cords round their bodies, and dropped into a slow fire,
which was kindled under them, till they expired.  These
operations endeared him to the Church; and the Pope, as
Father of the Faithful, made advances to so obedient a son.
It was high time, for the Most Catholic Emperor was more
surely shaking the temporal throne of the ruler of Rome than
Luther had ever done the foundations of his spiritual authority.  The Protestant Princes of the League of Smalkald had




A. D. 1547.]   NEPOTISM{ OF THE POPES.              249
been completely beaten at the great battle of Mluhlberg within
a month of Francis's death.  The Elector of Saxony and the
Landgrave of Hesse were taken prisoners, their military followers dispersed, ancl to all human appearance the cause of
the Reformation on the Continent was at an end.
But fortunately the popes were sovereigns as well as pontiffs, and Paul the Third was alarmed at the irresistible power
of Charles. He was offended, also, at the Emperor's acts;
for the greatest prince in Christendom had not scrupled to
profit by the murder of his son, Peter Farnese, whom he had
invested with the duchies of Parina and Placentia.  There
were always after this date a number of delightful principalitics, in which the popes installed their nephews or cousins, or
less reputable connections. Nepotism, no longer limited to
red hats and rich abbeys, extended its views to dukedoms and
alliances with royal lines.  Charles, with the intuitive dislike
of his race and country, looked with contempt on the mushroom potentates, and besides, had a very considerable affection for the snug little Duchy of Placentia for himself
Spanish troops were therefore in waiting outside the walls of
the beautiful little town; and when the wicked and wretched
Peter was stabbed by the conspirators and torn to pieces by
the mob, the soldiers rushed into the city, and the Imperial
standard was raised upon the castle. Paul the Third was an
affectionate father, we have seen, as well as Catholic chief.
In one character he hated the Emperor, whom he suspected
of being accessory to his son's death; and in another he had
great reason to be satisfied with the proselytising and obedient
king. He therefore sent to Henry, and told him that if he
would come to the assistance of his family, he would aid him
with blessings and coin, and if their joint efforts failed he
would seek an asylum in France. His offer was not to be
resisted, for even a defeat would give him a visitor of inestimable value, and preparations were made.  Before the fruits
of the battle of Muhlberg could be gathered by the victors,
news reached the confederated Protestants that a quarrel had
broken out between the French King and the Emperor, and




250             SAGACITY OF CHARLES.         [A. D. 1547,
between the Emperor and the Pope.  They actually became
the arbiters of these great dissensions, and were courted by
all parties.  Charles, in order to intimidate his Holiness, insisted on the return of the General Council to Trent, where
it had been originally summoned in 1544, and its removal
from Bologna, to which it had been transferred by Paul.
This was to place it where the influence of Protestant belief
was greatest, and already there were hopes of a compromise,
by which Germany might become an undivided power. England was under an eclipse at this time, and was nearly forgotten outside of her guardian seas. Edward the Sixth was
on the throne, Somlerset was Protector, and both were too
weak to do anything more than defend their authority against
the cabals of the political and religious parties into which the
nation was split. The career was therefore open to the rival
crowns. Charles, in entering on the new contest, showed his
usual sagacity, and made concessions after having obtained
all the advantages of force. He granted liberty of worships
to the Protestants by an Imperial rescript, marriage of their
priests, and communion in both kinds, till the Council of
Trent should come to a final decision. But this was assuming too much of the pontifical authority to be pleasing to
Paul.  He protested against the Interim, as this act was
called, and prosecuted his schemes in favour of France more
zealously than ever. Persecution and toleration therefore became the conflicting arms of the champions in this great
struggle; and it shows us how completely the political view
at this time excluded the religious, that the heretics were
slain and tortured by a man who was utterly regardless of the
great question in dispute, while their liberties were defended
by a gloomy and unrelenting bigot, who looked on them  as
the enemies of God and man. Henry, too thoughtless to take
warning by the sudden change in his adversary's treatment
of the innovators, sought to strengthen his cause, and increase
the papal influence, by double severity against the new faith.
The massacres and atrocities perpetrated under Francis at
MHerindol and Cabrieres, rested for a long time in the memory




A. D. 1548.]      MARY OF SCOTLAND.                  251
of the people, till they were expelled by still wilder excesses
of fanaticism  and hatred.  Rebellions, prompted by despair
and over-taxation, broke out in several places, and an expedition into Italy was thwarted by the necessity of hurrying back
to punish refractory Bordeaux.  Disregarding the protest of
the local parliament, the edict of the king had imposed a
duty on salt, which maddened the consumers; for the article
lay at their doors, andl the commissaries were inquisitorial as
well as unjust. Montmorency, the favourite, was in his element
now. He was sent down to execute justice on the revolters,
and spared neither sex nor agfe. A hundred of the chief artisans of Bordeaux were ignominiously hanged; crowns of redhot iron were placed on the sufferers' heads while they were
broken alive on the wheel.  The bells were taken down, in
sign of the withdrawal of the city's municipal powers; and a
breach made in the walls, in sign of its subjection to military
law.  Wherever the Constable went, he was preceded by the
executioners of his vengeance; and having spread desolation
ancl misery through the whole south of the kingdom, he returned to Paris in time to take part in the rejoicings which
had been going on while these terrible events occurred, for
the marriage of Anthony of Bourbon with Jane d'Albret.
The mother of this Jane was a Protestant asnd poetess,
Margaret of Navarre, the sister of Francis the First, and the
eldest son of this marriage was Henry the Fourth.  These
blood-stained espousals were the connecting link between the
follower of Bayard and the friend of Sully. It is a great step
when we come, with only one life between, from the armed
bravo of Marignano to the author of the Edict of Nantes.
At this time also another marriage was resolved on, and
another royal bride made her appearance at the court of
France.  A beautiful and graceful child she was, whose life
has been studied with more zeal, and fate lamentedl with
more tears, than those of any other queen; for it was the
fair and unfortunate Mary of Scotland, transplanted now, in
her sixth year, from the bleak land which scarcely owned its
allegiance, and always refusecl its affections-to appear for




252         LUTHERANS AND CALVINISTS.    [A. D. 1548
a brief moment on the brightest and gayest throne in Europe,
and go back to the toils and struggles, and errors and sorrows,
of her native realm.  She was betrothed in this year to
Francis the Dauphin, who ascended the throne as Francis the
Second. The rejoicings on these two auspicious events were
soon interrupted; for all the nations were in a roused and
unsettled state, and every day brought forth some new complication of parties, or totally unexpected turn in the progress
of affairs.
A distinction seems always to have been drawn between
the doctrines of the Lutherans and Calvinists.  The Lutherans were considered merely dissidents from  the Papal
Church, but the Calvinists were thought rebels against royal
authority. Excesses on both sides justified to superficial
observers the opinion, which inflamed the Catholics and Reformers with unappeasable rage, that their joint existence
was impossible. Catholicism, when it was triumphant,
trampled on the faintest spirit of dissent; and dissent, when
it had the opportunity, retorted with almost insane retribution.  The release from the darkness in which all men's
mlinds had been avowedly kept, was too sudden to be wisely
borne. The light blinded their eyes, and the persecutors
could point to their victims' acts in justification of their own.
This will account for the tragedies and nameless horrors of
the next half-century in France, in which the national character entirely changed. Jacques Bonhomme became a ravening savage instead of a complaining drudge, and knight and
cavalier became brutalised below the standard of a Chinese
mandarin or maddened Hindoo. National efforts, however
they might ostensibly be only on temporal or political subjects, borrowed their spirit from these theological dissensions,
Wars, sieges, marriages, all had reference to the great argument of the time; for it was felt on both sides that the preponderance of either of the parties in the religious struggle
would decide the predominance of the political opinions which
were supposed to be involved. Protestantism and free government, if not the cry, was already the sentiment of all the




A. D. 1552.]    SURPRISE OF CHARLES.               253
peoples, and Catholicism and loyalty to the Crown were the
counterblasts on the other side. If Charles the Fifth therefore, at any time, perceived that the Pope himself relaxed in
his opposition to the Calvinist reformers, he opposed the
person of his Holiness without the least compunction, but
with an unabated reverence for his office; and if Henry the
Second saw, in the midst of his executions of the Protestants
of his own kingdom, that encouragement of the Lutherans of
Germany would weaken his rival's force, he sent assistance to
the confederated princes. But both were equally bent on
maintaining their individual authority. It will therefore not
surprise us when we perceive that, in the year 1552, the part
played by these unprincipled potentates became reversed.
Charles, the publisher of the Interim  which secured the
Protestant demands, is at open war with them in Germany,
and Henry, the torturer of the reformers of his own kingdom,
is armed in their defence. Maurice of Saxony, however, saved
the French king the trouble of crossing the Rhine, for he
secretly placed himself at the head of a band of determined
Protestants, forced the passes of the Tyrol, and scattered the
Council of Trent, which was still carrying on its labours.
-Vithout check or pause they marched without beat of drum,
and got so close to the house in Innspruck where Charles was
in bed with a slight illness, that his Imperial majesty had to
fly with no more dignified apparel than his shirt and stockings. WVhile the confederated princes were lamenting the
escape of their expected prisoner, they were cheered with a
message from the Emperor himself offering terms of accommodation. The rapidity of his flight had been increased by
the knowledge which reached him in his retreat, that Henry,
with a great French army, was on the borders of Germany,
and ready to cross over to the assistance of his enemies.
Better, he thought, to yield at once than allow his French
rival to gain the glory of a reconciliation. The princes accepted the offer, and wrote to beg Henry to discontinue his
advance. A French king at the head of a French army
would think himself disgraced if he disbanded it without a




25.5 i              SIEGE OF METZ.           LA. D. 1552.'
triumph, even if all the objects of its assemblage were obtained. Henry, therefore, yielded to their request by discontinuing his advance; but indemnified himself by turning to
one side, and seized by main force the cities of  iectz, Toul,
and Verclun, spread his legions over Lorraine, and made an
attempt on Strasburg and the county of Alsace. In this he
was only repulsed by the Protestantism of the people. They
feared the Most Christian King and had more confidence in
the Catholic Emperor, who, to the great satisfaction and at
the powerful request of sixty thousand armed Lutherans, had
just signed his name to the Treaty of Passan.  This Treaty
of Passau was the termination for a long time of the German
strife. Equal rights were secured by it to Protestant and
Papist; equal eligibility to seats in the Great Council of
Spires, and mutual freedom of worship in the states of both
communions.
The war henceforth became a petty personal quarrel between the sovereigns. Charles, having pacified the reformers,
swore he would die before the walls of Metz, which the king
had taken, before he would raise the siege; and Henry swore
he would lose his last man before a Spaniard crossed the
ditch. It was a duel, with the world gathered round the lists.
Metz was a wretchedly placed town, with no regular fortifica.tions, no bastions or towers, and was commanded by hills in
the immediate neighbourhood.  But Francis, Duke of Guise,
threw himself into the place, and made preparations for defence. He knocked down the houses which weakened his
position, dug' ditches, raised earth embankments, mounted
his cannon, and hung out a flag for all the gallantry of France
to rally round. All the brave youth flowel northward as to
a tournay.  Counts, marquesses, and chevaliers, poured into
the devoted town, and were instantly formed into companies
for work and fighting. Fine feathers and jingling spurs disappeared.  There were pickaxes, and spades, and  sharp
swords, and matchlocks, and tight discipline, and hearts
burning for distinction. Charles came on with a hundred
thousand men, with officers and nobles collected from every




A. D. 1553.]     CHARLES REPULSED.                  255
portion of his vast domain. Flemish infantry, Spanish cavlaliers, German lansquenets, seven -thousand pioneers, and a
hundred and twenty guns. It was a presentment, before the
time, of the more celebrated siege of Sebastopol. Guise was
the Todtleben, as well as the general in command. Fresh
defences were raised in the night, to be demolished again in
the morning. Advances, sallies, assaults, and all the changes
and chances of a continued battle, in which the besieged had
only the advantage of a little more shelter than their assailants, marked the progress of this obstinate struggle. Time,
however, was always on the side of the garrison. The winter
rains came on. The exposed battalions suffered from cold
and wind, and finally from hunger, on the heights above the
town. If they descended near the ditch, they sank in the
tenacious clay; if they forced their way to a redoubt, they
were repelled with shot and spear. Reports also spread
through the camp that Henry was coming with all the remaining power of France, and Charles, sick, wearied, but still
breathing vengeance, was forced to forget his oath, and raise
the siege in the -first days of January, 1553, leaving forty
thousand dead as witnesses of the obstinacy of the attack.
The scattered fragments of the army were followed, and at
first destroyed; but compassion blunted the pursuers' swords.
Such squalid forms, it was unworthy of a soldier to kill, such
starving multitudes had no thought of resistance.  They
cried only for bread.  The gallant Frenchmen fed them,
clothed them, placed them in houses of shelter, and sent
them to their own countries cured and gratified.  It would be
pleasant if we saw that this generous conduct had been met
in a corresponding spirit. But Charles was more imbittered
by disappointment than soothed by these Christian attentions.
Perhaps he did not understand them, for his whole career
shows no touch of anything higher than selfish policy, unredeemed by sympathy or romance. And let us not despise
this latter quality, which, however laughable when combined
with a weak judgment, is in great characters the foundation
of all the virtues, for it is a lofty rising out of the everyday




256        MARRIAGE OF PHILIP AND MARY.  LA. D. 1554.
suggestions of interest or ambition; and makes a man who,
without it, may be an object of awe or admiration, into a
hero reverenced and loved. England might have boasted of
Nelson as much, if he had been of sterner mould, but it was
his tenderness, gentleness, in short, his romance, which makes
him still talked of with the warmth of personal attachment.
Cold-blooded, self-sufficient-rejecting sympathy because incapable of feeling it-Charles pursued his plans. All his
Estates were taxed for men and money, and before the
wounds of MIetz were healed in the hospitals of the French,
an immense array hung on the frontier of France. In some
places where the Emperor was not present in person, it is delightful to see that the generosity of Guise was not thrown
away. In Italy a gentler spirit was introduced into the war.
De Buissac, the French commander, spared the peaceful
populations, and was followed, in this unprecedented course,
by the Spanish generals. The usages of civilised warfare
existed for a while, till fanaticism again mingled with the
contest, and warriors who fought like gentlemen in their
character of soldiers, fought like wild beasts in their character
of Christians. Let us therefore pray that in all the calamities that may be reserved for our country, she may escape the
lowest and bitterest a distracted nation can feel-a religious
war.
But Charles, as if fatigued with war, now turned his vengeance into softer channels.  The successful move which
Henry had made in securing the Scottish queen for the heir
of France, was replied to this year, by the gain of the hand
of Mary of Englancl for the heir of Spain. A more ungainly
couple never disgraced the bands of Hymen, by pretending to
marry for love. Philip of the Asturias was now in his thirtysecond year, and already the sullen, unforgiving bigot history
still shudders to contemplate in the annals of the Netherlands.
Narrow in heart and intellect, he was not more favoured by
nature in his person than in his mind. An expression of
stolid ferocity may yet be traced upon the coins which bear
his image, as on the parchments which contain his words. In




A. D. 1565.]      MARY OF ENGLAND.                  257
both we read, legibly written, the harsh will which trampled
on every feeling, and the lust of blood which dominated every
thought. All Catholic Christendom rejoiced at the nuptials.
England was again to be restored to the patrimony of St.
Peter, and heresy to lose its greatest shield. But the English
themselves were very far from seeing the advantages of the
Spanish match.  The Parliament was altogether uncomplimentary and suspicious. It would give no power to the
nominal king, nor admit foreign councillors, nor hold itself
bound by continental alliances. Mary, the enraptured bride,
regretted the rudeness of her people, and though she said
nothing, took care to nurse her wrath in secret, to keep it
warm.  She was nearly forty years of age, gaunt and grim in
her expression, the true daughter of Henry the Eighth, without his bluff openness, but as resolute in will andcl relentless
in nature, as the repudiator of her mother, and the murderer
of Anna Boleyn.
France was not long in perceiving that the English marriage was no gain to the cause of Charles. It had, indeed, a
contrary effect; for the cruelties which the sanguinary pair
perpetrated on the Protestants, filling the prisons with chained
victims, and the fires of Smithfield with triumphant martyrs,
awoke sentiments of pity in the dullest English hearts, and
excited other feelings in so quick-witted and proud-spirited a
people as the French.  The despotic and demoralising teaching of the Jesuits was denounced by the University of Paris,
and the Order was condemned to silence, and deprived of the
mastership of schools. Henry, to gratify the Pope, had agreed
to admit the Inquisition into his states; but at a great meeting of the Parliament, the famous Segnier, the advocategeneral, protested against the measure. He knew what an
inquisition meant, and warned his colleagues against submission. " You think you are all safe now, because you have
the favour of the king, and are orthodox in the faith of the
Church. Wait till an inquisition is installed, with the powers
the Pope demands. When the king is in want of money,
the inquisition will promise him the confiscation of your
17




258           IIMMORALITY OF THE TIME.         [A. D. 1555,
estates; and once before the officers of Rome, it needs but
an accusation and two false witnesses, and if you were saints
you would be burnt as heretics. Therefore, beware." The
Parliament took the orator's advice, and the king withdrew
his consent. But never was man so regardless of the happiness of his subjects when his own luxuries were to be supplied.  To keep up the most dissolute court which had
hitherto been seen in France, he stretched the ordinary taxat.ion to its utmost limits.  He then sold the offices round his
person down to the assistant cook's.  He created such an
infinite number of fresh places, setting them  all up for sale,
that the whole land was filled with officials, whose business
consisted in remunerating themselves for the money their
appointments had cost.  And all this time, while the Calvinists and Puritans were being cast into chains and hanged on
the highways, the veil was occasionally lifted up from  the
orgies of the palace, and men shuddered at the profligacy
revealed.  Quarrels arose among the high-born ornaments of
the court, which came befoe before the tribunals of the judges, and
witnesses on either side related incidents in the course of their
examination which would have brought a blush on the forehead of Tiberius; for immorality had assumed that awful
type, prophetic of the fall of nations, when it glories in its
shame.  Even the gallant De Buissac had a bodyguard in his
Italian campaign, composed of the refuse of jails and galleys,
but all of noble families.  Not one was unstained bv murder
or robbery, or still wilder crimes. "I send them on desperate
enterprises," he said, " for if they fall their lives are already
forfeit to the law; if they survive, they in part efface their
wickedness by usefulness to the State."  But the troop was
proud of its notoriety. It was an honour reserved for the
most ambitious of gentle footpads to be admitted a member
of the " Brave and Bad." We need not enter into the particulars of a state of manners so little satisfactory to contemplate.  We must only bear in mind that this is the turningpoint in human affairs, for the Reformation was yet unsettled,
and the old religion had nothing to show in opposition to the
LVI~ ~-L-  V~ VI~~LI~UIy  (InVI~lt




A. D. 155.]   DEATH OF CHARLES THE FIFTH.           259
sentence passed against it, but the vices of all the courts, the
sufferings of all the peoples, the anarchy of Rome itself, and
the rise of that portentous star of bloodl and infamy which
filled Europe with fresh calamities under the name of Philip
the Second. For Charles was worn out. I-e saw no steadiness in man, nor honour in kings. His wisest schemes broke
down under the weight of prejudices and deceits. At the
very time, in 1556, when he was concluding a truce with
France at Cambrai, he found that Henry was entering into an
alliance of the bitterest hostility against him with the Pope
at Rome.  To punish Charles for not having annihilated the
Protestants in the field, and for continuing to observe the
Treaty of Passau, the furious old Caraffa, who took the name
of Paul the Fourth, offered Henry the old bribe of the kingdom of Naples. War was, therefore, about to break out more
bitterly than ever at the very time when the Turks were riding
triumphant in the Mediterranean, and the Lutherans establishing their power in G0ermany, and riots arising from utter
want and despair in various nations.  Charles withdrew from
the scene disappointed in his personal schemes, but unsoftened
by the influence of years, breathing vengeance as sternly as
ever against heretic and rebel, and giving the truest proof of
his enmity and ambition by resigning, his kingdoms and all his
dominions to the younger and more unrelenting hands of Philip.
He retired into a convent in Estremadura, where the records
of his monkish days are still preserved. They portray a small
mind and self-indulgent nature.  He existed for two years a
martyr to gout and gluttony; mixing anxiously in public
affairs when the helm was in other hands; a marvel to the
friars, a torment to himself; and then died at the age of fiftysix. A vulgar Napoleon with his St. Helena at St. Just.
Philip the Second was now king of Spain and the Indies,
of England, and Nap)les-the greatest potentate in Europe.
He detcterd the false play of Paul the Fourth and his nephews,
ancl in no long time saw the treachery of the Pope aand his
Camarilla to the Spanish cause rewarded by the descent upon
Italy of a French army sent to their assistance, commanded




260            BATTLE OF ST. QUENTIN.       [A. D. 1557
by the Duke of Guise. A sign was easily made to the ambitious Caraffas by the crafty Philip, and those honourable
gentlemen deserted their uncle as they had formerly deserted
the king, and put every obstacle they could devise in the way
of the French expedition. Henry was too deep in his pleasures at Paris to attend to the request for succour made to
him by his general at Rome; and while he was wondering at
the insolence of the man who requested him to spare the expense of a banquet or tournament, and send the money to the
starving army, he heard that iMary of England had at last
prevailed on her Parliament to take part in the war, that ten
thousand English had joined the Spanish array, and that
an army sixty thousand strong, under Imanuel Philibert;,
Duke of Savoy, had poured into Picardy, and was investing
the town of St. Quentin. Coligny, the nephew of the Constable Montmorency, was in the place with only three hundred men.  But he refused to surrender.  Montmorency
hastily advanced to the rescue, and so weakened his force by
bad generalship and an apparent ignorance of the locality,
that the Anglo-Spaniards found it an easy matter to put him
to the rout. St. Quentin became a word of evil memory in
Frenchmen's ears. The half of their troops were killed or
taken, the rest scattered in irremediable confusion. Not a
soldier was left between the scene of the battle and the capital, and Paris was at the mercy of the enemy. But Philip
was afraid of so distant an advance. He kept the army, which
he joined shortly after the victory, occupied in petty details,
and gave up the neighbouring towns to pillage and conflagration. The army as usual became demoralised by these assaults
and spoilings. Careful Flemings slipt off with the silver of
plundered churches and the jewels of murdered women. Greedy
Germans also stole away with all they could carry. The
English, who were never hearty in the Spanish cause, grumbled at being sent home from a land where pillage was' so
easy, to resist the Scotch, who were gathering, at French
instigation, on the border; and of the conquerors of St. Quentin, none remained but the Spaniards and Italians, who were




N. D. 1558.]   FRENCH TAKE CALAIS.                 261
too distant from their homes to hope to reach them with theix
booty. Guise also had hurried back from Rome; troops of
Swiss and other mercenaries came in; and Philip derived nc
real advantage from the greatest victory the Spaniards ever
won over the French, except the glory of the day and the
plan of the great palace of the Escurial, which is built in the
parallel rows of the bars of a gridiron, in honour of St. Lawrence, on whose day the battle was fought, and whose martyrdom consisted in being broiled over a slow fire. The triumphant Philip, therefore, slunk off in a very undignified
manner; and the defeated French made a dash in the midst
of winter where they were least expected, followed the enterprising Guise over the frozen marshes in the neighbourhood
of Calais, and on the 9th of January, 155S, pulled down the
English flag from the walls of the town, which had braved
the breeze ever since the memorable conquest of Edward the
Third in 1349. The acquisition of Calais, which was rapidly
followed by the reduction of Dunkirk and some other maritime
towns, was an ample compensation for the disaster of St.
Quentin. France had now the key of her own house, and
saw a new barrier to her domain in the sea, in which she had
formerly seen only a highway for her enemy's approach. Mary
was weak and ill when this news reached her.'C Calais will
be found written on my heart," she said, when she lay dying;
and many other terrible things must have been written there,
unless the sharp point of conscience was blunted against fanaticism and zeal. With a great shout of joy the Spanish
alliance was given up when Elizabeth took possession of the
throne, and Henry the S3cond saw his two highest hopes fulfilled-England detached from his great rival's cause, and
Scotland assured to his side by the marriage which took place
at this time between his son Francis and Mary Stuart.  A
marriage of a more sombre augury was celebrated six months
after the capture of Calais and death of the English queen,
for Philip sent as his representative to wed the fair Elizabeth
of France, the sister of Henry, no other than the most fierce
and bloodthirsty of all the generals of the time, the grim and




26.2       MARRIAGE OF MIARY OF SCOTLAND. [A. D. 1559.
malignant Duke of Alva,-a man without pity or remorse;
whose presence must have been an omen to the unhappy bride
of the fate reserved for her at the Spanish court-a life of
uninterrupted grief and disappointment, terminatecl by a
violent and mysterious death. She did not know the unimaginable villain to whom she gave her hand.  She only regrettedl, with the natural feelings of youth, that Philip hadl
demanded her for himself after she had been promised to his
son. This is a portion of royal experience belonging less to
French than Spanish history. WVe will therefore only say,
the wife was made miserable by the jealousy of the husband,
and the son imprisoned and put to death by the hatredl of the
father.
The marriage of the heir of France and Queen of Scotland
took place the 20th of June, 1559. For many dclays the bells
rang out rejoicings, and cannon fired off their salutes.  Tournaments were held from morn till eve, and on the 29th Henry
held the lists against all comers, and challenged the knights
of France and Spain. He resisted the attack of his first
assailant, the Duke of Savoy, who courteously turned his
spear and retired.  The Duke of Guise was likewise gracefuflly repelled; the two best generals in the service of [France
felt the skill of the monarch's arm, and ladies and nobles vied
in their show of admiration.  But a big rough Scotchman,
of the name of  Montgomery, advanced as the third assailant,
and by some mismanagement did not succeed in giving the
kling the best of the shock, but shook his feet out of the
stirrups.  Henry insisted on another course. Montgomery
obeyed, and held the lance so straight-so firmly pointedthat it broke in his opponent's visor, and a splinter went into
his eye. A shrill cry was all the spectators heard; but the
king lay forward on his horse.  He was taken off and visited
by the best surgeons; the wood had penetrated to the brain,
and on the 10th of July he died. The strange thing connected with this man's reign is, that in spite of the progress
of the press, by which knowledge was communicated a thousancd times quicker, and in many more directions than before.




A. D. 1559.1      FRANCIS THE SECOND.                263
a greater contempt for public opinion was displayed than in
the comparatively unenlightened times of Louis the Eleventh;
and at the moment when Protestantism was eagerly watching
the lives of the great and powerful, as evidences of a perversion of the Christian faith, the wildest excesses of debauchery
were shamelessly exhibited in the persons of kings and nobles
— as if the monarchy was already above both public and religious considerations, and tasted the first draught of absolute
and irrepressible power.  A worthless voluptuary is little
regretted, even by the companions of his debaulcheries, and
all the courtiers turned their eyes to the new occupants of the
throne-Francis the Second and the Scottish Mary.
FRANCIS THE SECOND.
Monarchy, in this instance, was represented by a sickly'boy of sixteen, and a thoughtless beauty of about the same
age; and yet never was a time when a strong hand and powerful will were more required to protect the royal authority.
WThile Francis was carefully nursed and pampered in all his
desires, and iMary was singing ballads and dancing at masquerades, strange thoughts had taken possession of the general mind. The profligacy and extravagance of the last reign
hadl borne their natural fruits.  There was anger and discontent all over the land; the towns complained of their privileges being destroyedl, the country people of the exactions of
the Crown commissioners; prices were raised everywhere by
the monopolies bestowed on court favourites, or purchasetl by
greedy speculators; and when the more inquiring spirits
looked round, and saw that all these calamities were inflicted
on them with the support and at the instigation of the chamlpions of the Romish Church and the persecutors of the new
opinions, they came to the conclusion that their chances of
future liberty were connectedl indissolubly with the cause of
the Reformation.  All the liberalism of France became HIuguenot or anti-Papist.  In the same way, when the leaders
of Catholicism, who were also the holders of office, perceived




264                  PERSECUTION.            [A. D. 1555
that opposition to their measures, complaints against their
rapacity, and demands for freer government, proceeded from
the followers of Calvin and other teachers, they confounded
seriousness in religion with discontent in the State, and looked
on every Protestant as a rebel in disguise. The last public
act of the late king was ordering the arrest of an advocate
who had undertaken the defence of some person accused of
heresy. For this great crime he was tried and condemned.
Francis and Mary inaugurated their reign by attending his
execution.
The managers of the Court were the two brothers GuiseFrancis the general, and the Cardinal of Lorraine.  Uncles
of the fair young queen, and guardians of the feeble sovereign,
they had no enemy to fear except the public discontent, which
they determined to put down by force; and nobody could see
a cloud upon their prosperity when they peremptorily banished
their rival MIontmorency, and dismissed Diana of Poictiers,
who was now Duchess of Valentinois, and immensely rich.
They banished also Anthony of Bourbon and his brother the
Prince of Cond6, by sending them  to escort the unhappy
Elizabeth to her husband, Philip of Spain; and when thus
freed from dangerous competitors, they gave a loose to the
ferocity of their nature. A system of inquisition and extermination of the Protestants was established all over France,
from which neither religious dissident nor political adversary
could escape. The market halls were blackened with faggotsmolke, and yet the Bible grew more dear, the preachers more
courageous. The great masses of the peasantry were, of
course, immersecl in ignorance, and were so scattered, and had
such slender means of intercommunication, that the priests
were still powerful in the remoter parts of the land; but
towards the south the old Albigensian spirit survived. In
the counties near Switzerland, the facility of intercourse and
community of language spread the tenets of Geneva far and
wide among the people. Half the nobility was in favour of
the new opinions. The King of Navarre, Jane d'Albret his
wvife, and Cond6l his brother-the first princes of the blood




A. D. 1559.]   CONSPIRACY OF AMBOISE.               265
after the sons of Henry-had publicly made profession of the
new faith, and attended the Huguenot promenades in the
"Priests' Meadow," on the banks of the Seine.  Miarot's
hymns were sung in every hall; for Calvinism, wiser in France
than in our own land, enlisted the gayest of poets and sweetest
of musicians in its service; and now, when discontent with
the management of the Guises was embittered by anger and
fear, the Protestants could submit in silence no longer. A
great though secret gathering took place at Nantes, where
nobles met in large numbers.  It was arranged to march on
Blois with all the forces they could raise, and seize the king
and the princes of Lorraine.  But traitors were in the camp.
The Guises were told of the plot, and carried the king to the
castle of Amboise, which they had prepared to withstand a
siege.  Coligny and his brothers (nephews of the Constable
Montmorency) were ordered to appear at court, and obeyed
the summons. Condcl presented himself without invitation,
and offered to maintain his innocence by personal combat.
The chiefs of the Conspiracy of Amboise, as this attempt is
called, were now in the power of their enemies; and when
the remaining confederates, even after the discovery, persisted
in their plan, and broke out into open rebellion, they were
crushed one by one. Promises, threats, and force-any means
were equally welcome to the remorseless rulers at Amboisewere employed as occasion required, and the Huguenot nobles
were everywhere seized.  The only amusements now offered
to the frail Francis and his bride were the executions of the
vanquished. They were burnt as heretics rather than beheaded as rebels.  The spectacle by this means was more
appalling, and lasted a longer time. We are told, though the
information was scarcely needed, that those shows were graced
by the presence also of Catherine de Medicis, the mother of
the king. In other places tortures were applied, so frightful
that the priests themselves were revolted by the sight.  The
great bitterness of a war of faiths had not yet hardened them
beyond compunction. To legalise and justify these measures,
the Guises insisted on introducing the whole machinery of the




266               DEATH OF FRANCIS.           [A. D. 1560,
Inquisition.  The benefit would fall to them-the odium on
Rome.  The great chancellor, Michel de l'Hospital, a man
rwhose character shows that, even in the worst periods of history, the individual may obtain influence and glory by displaying the virtues befitting a happier time, opposed the fatal
measure, and, as a compromise, conveyed the power of inquiring into false opinions to the bishops of France.  To
counterbalance this increase in the episcopal power, he proposed at the same time the summoning a national council
(with liberty of worship to all sects till its decision should be
known) and the convocation of the States-General. WVe shall
find that this last was always a proposition of despair, when
no other way was left to introduce good order in the realm.
But the time for a States-General had long gone by.  The
monarchy had swallowed up the nation. It had lost the corporate capacity in which it gathered round Clovis and the
early kings, and took part in the organisation of the State;
and had not yet reached that other form of national influence
which speaks through representation. The nation was now
embodied in the Crown, and a restoration of old forms might
lead to the revival of old attributes.  The States-General
might inquire too curiously into the origin of the monarchical
power as it existed now, and the Guises opposed the proposal
of De l'Hospital with all their force. A parliament of notables, however, was called as'a middle course.  But the first
vote of the notables was for the assemblage of the States.
They were therefore dismissed in disgrace, and the mask was
taklen off on both sides. The opponents of the Court declared
themselves Huguenots; the Court declared them  traitors.
Anthony of Navarre and the Prince of Cond6 were invited to
Orleans, where the king resided. They were arrested on their
arrival, and Condcl put on his trial. Coligny and his brother
d'Andelot were also pressed to spend a few days at the palace;
but while lawyers were preparing to plead, and soldiers were
gathering to seize the other expected guests, Francis suddenly
died. Everything was at a stand.  The Guises, paralysed,
let slip the golden opportunity of continuing their power by




A. D. 1560.1  CATHERINE DE MEDICIS REGENT.           267
force. Emerging from  the obscurity in which she had restrained her ambition till this time, Catherine de Meclicis
claimed the custody of her next son Charles the Ninth, who
was still only nine years old, and before the court circle recoveredl from its consternation, the dark and blood-stained
Italian was guardian of the king, and in fact, if not in name,
regent of the kingdom.
Francis had reigned, if such a word can be applied to so
nominal a sovereignty, for seventeen months.  But in that
short space the floodgates of evil were opened on the land.
The country was divided into two apparently irreconcilable
camps; and both stained with the lowest vices which ever
mingled with high endeavours.  The defenders of the ancient
Church saw no dignity in the office they so pompously assumed, for they were conscious of no higher principle, in the
maintenance of the old faith, than the aid it afforded them in
keeping a blinded population in subjection.  The reforming
leaders degraded no less the loftiness of their design, by turning the great truths in whose cause they took arms into mere
instruments of political and personal ambition. There were
few on either side who cared for the things in whose name
they fought. The Huguenots in general cared as little for
the Bible as the Catholics for the Pope. And yet the bitterness of cruelty in this struggle transcends all example.  It
united the bigotry of fanaticism to the lawlessness of unbelief.
Friends murdered friends; neighbours rushed armed into their
neighbours' houses and slew them in cold blood. Torture of
prisoners was almost universal, and mutilations, which are
doubted of in India, were common in every province of France.




CHAPTER XIL
CHARLES THE NINTH, A. D. 1560, TO THE ACCESSION OF HENRY
THE FOURTH, A. D. 1594.
THE dangerous experiment of the States was now unavoidable, and all parties paused for a while to see what the result
woulcl be. The result was not so considerable as either side
expected. The universal voice was for reform in the management of the State and diminution of taxation.  Reform also
in the Church was strongly advocated; but the priests voted
that it could only be procured by strengthening the laws against
the Protestants; the Third Estate voted that the object was
to be gained by freedom of conscience, anl the nobles were
almost equally divided in their votes. All, however, agreed
in re-establishing the " Pragmatic," and diminishing the
contributions to the Pope. After a session of six weeks the
States-General were prorogued, and factions breathed again.
Guise reconciled himself to his enemies the Constable and the
Marshal St Andre, and the three put themselves under the
protection of Philip of Spain in defence of the Catholic Church.
This gave themn the name of the Triumvirate.  Cond6 and
Coligny, on the other hand, strengthened their relations with
the Huguenots. They looked in all quarters for assistance,
and the Protestant prospects were not so desperate abroad as
to discourage their hopes at home. In Germany the Huguenots, indeed, were at that moment triumphant. Not more
than one-tenth of the people had retained their allegiance to
the Pope. The great Elizabeth of England was a tower of
strength, by the spectacle she afforded of a firm and beneficent
rule, deriving its strength and consistency from a departure




A. D. 1561.]   FALSEHOOD OF CATHERINE.             269
from the authority and traditions of the Church. Her counlsels and good offices were never wanting to the Reformers in
whatever part of Europe they might be, and by her active
interference in the affairs of Scotland, in which the Guises
were playing the same game of oppression as in France, she
gave very perceptible evidence of what might be expected if
she threw herself openly into the Huguenot cause. The court
party temporised when they saw the disposition of their opponents. Catherine, the queen-mother, pretending an impartiality she did not feel, condescended to listen to a controversy
carried on in her presence between the doctors of the contending faiths.  She was struck with the ability of the Huguenot
champions, whom she had considered hitherto as mere fanat-.
ical enthusiasts, and the admiration of such an enemy is more
dangerous than her contempt. From this time she brooded
over plans for the extermination of a sect who could argue so
well and fight so bravely, and in the mean time gave them
some delusive privileges, which irritated their opponents and
cdissatisfied them. They were permitted to worship outside
the walls of a town, but they must go to the meeting unarmed, and disperse when ordered to do so.
It chanced that Francis of Guise was travelling with a
stout escort near the little town of Vassy, in Champagne, on
a Sunday in the March of 1562. The Protestants were worshipping in and around a barn beside the road, and the gallant escort drew sword upon the unhappy congregation, slew
sixty of them on the spot, and wounded almost all the rest.
Guise, who had been struck by a stone upon the cheek, rode
on and took no notice of the outrage committed by his guard,
but it spread from town to town. The trick was discovered.
Permission to attend prayers unarmed was a plot to give
them into the hands of their enemies.  There was war in
every province, and almost in every parish. Massacre was
the rule on both sides. Catholic leaders hung their prisoners
without trial, or shut them up in buildings which they set on
fire; Protestant leaders retorted, and drowned their enemies
in sacks; and one, the Baron des Adrets, made them leap




270             ANTHONY OF NAVARRE.          [A... 1562
down from a high tower while he and his friends pricked
them on with sword and spear.  The waste of peasant life
was dreadful; many also of the chiefs died, and Anthony of
Navarre, prince of the blood, was wounded to death in 1562.
This weak and despicable Bourbon had been easily won
over to the Triumvirate by the arts of the queen-mother, and
jealousy of his brother Conde.  Catherine was directed in the
choice of the ladies of her court by their possession of beauty
and the power of captivation.  As other potentates sent forth
a grey-haired ambassador to unravel a knotty point, the Italian ruler despatched a maid of honour beaming with youth
and loveliness; her secretaries also were the fairest maidens
in France; andl it was generally found that they were successful in the object of their mission. Anthony of Navarre
had no chance against the smiles and diplomacy of the young
envoy who exposed to him the superior attractions of the
Catholic cause. He was bribed on all sides. The Guises
offered him the hand of 3Mary their niece, with the present
Thistle of Scotlandcl, to be compensated with the future Rose
of England.  The Nuncio of the Pope quelled any little hesitation in Anthony's mind on the slight impediment which
existed to this plan in the fact that he had already a wife, by
offering to dissolve the marriage on the plea that Jane d'Albret-who had brought him the crown of Navarre-was an
avowed and open heretic. Anthony, however, was not temptedl
by the prospect of listening to John Knox, and being tram.pled on by Lord Ruthven, and declined the hand of the hapless
Mary.  He declined also the hand of Margaret of Valois, the
daughter of Catherine, and contented himself with the promise of the kingdomz of the Isle of Sardinia, which, as geography was not a common science in those days, was described to
hia as an earthly paradise, with no drawback to its perfect
bliss. When he was wounded at the siege of Rouen, in October, 1562, he was attended by the ladies of the court, who
soothed his weakness with all their arts.  Their conversation
was about the delicious life he would lead in the rich valleys
of Sardinia, in the midst of pomegranates, and jasmines, and




A. D. 1569.]    MUTUAL ASSASSINATIONS.              271
orange trees: and while indulging in these bright anticipations
the deluded man expired.
Guise was assassinated in the following year by a Calvinist named Poltrot de Miene.  Coligny was accused of
complicity in the murder, and it was impossible to say whether the Catholics were more offended by the slaughter of their
leader, or the Protestants by the libel upon theirs. Hatred
grew warmer than ever; and even the intervals which a treaty
of peace now and then offered seemed only to increase the
strife. Twice there were pacifications which brought no
peace. Foreign affairs exercised i#heir influence on these domestic straggles. The preparations of Philip against the revolted Netherlands gave hope to the Catholics; the assistance of Elizabeth, and the supremacy of the reformers in
Scotland, gave confidence to the Huguenots. In 1567 the war
was at its height. Old Constable Montmorency mounted his
horse once more, and commanded at a great battle near St.
Denis.  His enemies, Coligny and (Conde, were forced to retreat; but he himself was surrounded by a party of horsemen,
and shot with a pistol by a Scottish cavalier called Robert
Stewart.
A treaty, called the Peace of Longjumeau, gave rallyingtime to both sides; and in the next year the third war broke
out.  The same alternation of slaughter and violence characterised it as the last. The Battle of Jarnac revenged the
murder of the Constable at St. Denis; for Condcl, being
wounded and taken prisoner, was shot in cold blood by Mlontesquieu, the Captain of the Swiss Guard of the Duke of
Anjou. This young gentleman, who was only nineteen years
old, saw the bloody deed, and showed so much joy on the occasion that he has been accused of having ordered it. The
rest of his life, for we shall soon recognise him as Henry the
Third, does not go far in discountenancing the suspicion. A
prince does not always require to give a positive order to have
a crime perpetrated which is sure to give him pleasure. It is
impossible to give a sufficient view of the utter dissolution of
all the bonds of society in those dreadful years. In our aVars




272      INSECURITY OF LIFE AND PROPERTY. [A. D. 1569.
of the Roses, a century before this time, the battles had been
as frequent and the sides as openly taken; but there was a
scrupulousness of honour which led the chiefs of the contending factions to spare the great towns and peaceable inhabitants.  A Yorkist army encamped before a city which was
supposed to lean to the Lancastrian side, and endeavoured to
win it over by the gentleness of its treatment. A Huguenot
troop would have rushed into the streets and filled the whole
place with blood and rapine, even if the authorities had favoured the Huguenot cause. A royalist army in the same
manner pillaged and destroyed the towns and territories equally of friend and foe. The result was, that the towns tool;k
arms, and the burghers kept watch and ward. The farmers
and peasants, with axe and club, massacred the soldiers who
fell into their power whatever party they belonged to. All
France was a battle-field. Perhaps the universal soldiership
of the nation may be traced to this ferocious period, when
no man's life was safe unless by the strength of his own arm.
Fighting, robbery, waylaying, were the occupations of high
and low. A man's house was his castle, not in the figurative
sense that we use the word, but by dint of bridge and iron
gate. A gentleman with a loaded musket sat on the flat roof
of his mansion, and observed the visitor who might be coming up the avenue. As he came near, he either gave orders
to open the door, or shot him without further notice. Even
if he saw his most intimate acquaintance, he called out to
him from a slit in the wall, to leave his arms outside before
he got admission. Old Montaigne, a French nobleman of no
great wealth, but the most extraordinary genius of his time
or country, tells a story of this period, which shows the state
of manners. He was visited by a neighbouring gentleman,
a kinsman of his own, who by some oversight was admitted
with the friends who had accompanied him in his ride, without the preliminary laying aside of their pistols and swords.
Montaigne did not know what to do. They were both on the
same side in the politics of the time; no quarrel had occurred,
they were old friends, and yet the host saw very well the in




A. D. 1569.]       CATHERINE S SYSTEM.                  273
tention of the callers, which was to turn him out of the house,
and seize the possession of lands and goods.  H-e was the wittiest, pleasantest, cleverest man in France, and he so received
his visitors-was so agreeable, so polite, so friendly in giving
them lunch, and so delightful in conversation, that the intendec pillager had no opening for his design. How could he turn
fiercely round on a gentleman who was offering him  such
civilities?  Could he pocket a spoon by force, when its owner
was bidding him dip it into the richest soup?  H-ospitality
and jovial conversation had their reward.  The crest-fallen
visitor went away, and 3Montaigne put fresh bolts to his door,
and determined to be more careful of how he admcItted his
dearest relations within the walls of his house.  Yet in the
midst of all this hurry of violence, and apparent love of confusion, there must have been longings, earnest ancl deep, for a
restoration of repose.  Catherine de Medicis was the evil spirit
of all these miserable campaigns.  Fascinating, we are told,
in manner, and still beautiful in face and figure, nobody could
have suspected that such a depth of perfidy, of self-will and
cruelty, could lie beneath that fair and smiling outside. Brilliant in conversation, her delight was to form a circle rounci
her of tlhe gay and witty. Dances, f6tes and shows, succeeded
each other from day to day.  Protestations cost her nothing,
for she broke them without remorse.  To be niece of a pope
was sufficient guarantee, she thought, of the orthodoxy of her
religious creed; and yet to blind the Huguenots, she wrote
to the Holy Father suggesting that they might be good enough
Christians without believing in the mass, and excellent subjects though they did not attach any importance to the apostolic succession. A letter like this, on which such important
interests depended, was written between a ball and a masquerade. But her plans in the main were as serious as if s-he
had never smiled.  She pursued a system-carrying' it to its
most rigid conclusion-which no other mother has heard of
without horror. For the sole purpose of retaininog the management of affairs, she deliberately and resolutely sank her son
in the lowest and most degrading vices. She surrounded himl
18




'274            CONFERENCE WITHI ALVA.         [A. D. 1571
with the worst specimens of both sexes, whom she could pick
out of the clemoralised and impoverished families in the kingdom. Drunkenness, gambling, debauchery of every sort, were
the atmosphere in which the poor young man breathed. Uneducated), uncontrolled, with all his passions excited to tihe
utmost) he knew no restraint upon the wildest excesses of
his temper and desires, except the awe inspired in him by his
mother. His spirit, feebly aiming at the beginnings of wrong,
quailed before that incarnation of the bad and remorseless,
whose gloomy heart had been meditating for years the awful
deed which has made her name immortal. In solemn conference with the Duke of Alva, who was filling the Netherlands
with the blood of half the inhabitants, and the groans of all
the rest, she had come to one fixed and terrible resolve, and
never, in. all the gaieties of the court, or strifes of the battlefield, or apparent reconciliations with her enemies, had she
forgotten it for a moment. The Protestants were to be extirpated from the land, and murder was to be the instrument
employecd.
The third peace was therefore negotiated and achieved at
St. Germzain, in August 1570.  The terms were extremely
favourable to the Protestants. They had liberty of worship,
equality before the law, and admission to the universities; and
as a guarantee of safety, the four towns of Rochelle, 3[ontauban, Cognac, and La Charite, were put into their hands.
Chief of all the Huguenots, brave, generous, and accomplished,
was Henry of Navarre, now barely seventeen years of age, but
already displaying the same talents and qualifications which
made him in after years Henry the Great, as well as Henry
the Beloved.  To get him  into the power of the court, no
labour was spared.  He was invited, with the other nobles
and princes of the Reformers, to attend at the nuptials of
the IKing with Elizabeth of Austria, in 1571, but the rejoicings for the auspicious marriage had no temptations for
the cautious chiefs. They remained in safety at Rochelle.
At this time a great triumph accrued to Christendom, by the
victory obtained at Lepanto by John of Austria, a natural




A. D. 1072.]  3IARRIAGE- OF HENRY OF NAVARRE.         9 7
son of Charles the Fifth, over the Tur-ks.  Tble argument
was irresistible in the minds of popes and cardinals:   " If
heaven has given such a proof of its favour by the destruction
of the unbelievers, how much more will it not strengthen our
hands in the annihilation of heretics and schismatics? "
Catherine was logician enough to accept any premises whichl
came to their conclusion in blood.  She made up a match
between Henry of Navarre and her daughter Margaret, and
felt sure the whole party of the Reformers would attend the
marriage of their chief.  Notre-Dame, the grand old cathedral which still looks grim and horror-struck with the thousand tragedies which have passed within its view, never presented so gay an appearance, as on the 18th of August 1572.
As a compromise between the rival faiths, the ceremony was
performed in the clear space outside, leaving the bride andc
bridegroom, after the blessing was said, to go to their respective places of worship,-M-argaret into the church, and Henry
to the chapel, as if, by an undesigned symbol, to show that
sectarianism  is the work of man's hands, with its separations
and animosities, while religion is all-embracing, like the great!ight of clday.  On the raised platform, in the square before
tlhe ch.urch, all the parties in the State made their appearance.
Great historic names were sounded on both sides; Teligny,
Rochefbucauld, and Rohan, replied to by Guises, Tavannes, De
Retzes; all the beauties of the court, all the leaders of the
armies, the queen, in sullen gratification, hidden in maternal
solicitudes-and the king.
Henry took Miargaret's hand, and all Paris grew watchftl when the triumphant artillery proclaimed the great event.
The Protestants thanked God for the reconciliation which
was now  so securely guaranteedl; the Catholics had other
thoughts, but kept them  to themselves.  On the following
day Catherine held a secret council in her room.  The Duke
of Anjou, the Keeper of the Seals (an Italian bishop), and
some other favourites, were divided in opinion.  Some wished
to include the Guises themselves in the approaching massacre 
some wished to spare the young Henry of Navarre; all in



276        MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHIOLOM3EW. [Ax.   -1 0572
sisted on the blood of Coligny; and when the time drew near,
the king, maclddened by the malicious representations of his
mother, who alarmed him  for his life and crown unless the
blow was struck, cried out, "c Kill all —kill al! Let not one
escape to reproach me iwith the deed!"  He was taken at his
word. On the 20th of August, two days after the wedding,
the bells of the Church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois rang out
for matins.  This call to early prayer was the signal for the
slaughter.  Instantlvy he streets were filled with armed Catholics, who, -to distinguish themselves, wore a white cross on
their hats, and a sash on the left arm.  Coligny's was the first
life aimed at.  He was murdered in his lod ging, and his body
thrown into the courtyardl, where it fell at the feet of Henry
of Guise, who had sent the assassins in. Firing was now
heard in every lane and street.  Women, men, children, were
remorselessly shot or struck down; the obscurest haunts were
searched, and nobody was spared.  Some wonderful escapes,
however, are recorded.  Henry himself saved his life from the
personal fury of the king, by submitting to go to mass.
Charles ordered him to forsake his heresy, and revere himi as
the image of God, and cease to be an enemy to the image of
God's mother. He then took his fowling-piece, and fired out
of the window of the Louvre upon his subjects, who were trying to escape by flight.  After three days of dreadful noise
and confusion-the discharges of pistols, the shrieks of the
wounded women, and the shouts of the assailants  there fell
a dead silence upon the streets of Paris.  There was nobody
left to slaughter, and perhaps repentance began.  Not, however, in high places did this holy feeling make its way.
Catherine wrote triumphal accounts of her achievements to
Alva, and Philip, and the Pope.  Innocent the Third went
in solemn procession to render thanks for the victory vouchsafed over his enemies, and struck medals in honour of the
deed.  Has that medal been yet thrown out of the collection
of the Vatican, and broken to pieces by the hangman's axe?
Philip and Alva rejoiced at the happy news, and expected
favourable results to their operations in Holland, from the




A. D. 1573.1    REMORSE OF THE KING.                 277
effects of this unpitying energy in France.  A great groan
burst from the heart of England, which was instantly turned
into a shout of execration.  Germany was horror-struck at
the atrocity, and Charles himself-debauchee, bigot, murderer as he was-was touched with sorrow.  " Ambrose," he
said to his confidential physician, Ambrose Pare, " I know
not what has happened to me these two or three days past,
but I feel my mind and body as much at enmity with each
other as if I was seized with a fever.  Sleeping or waking,
the murdered Huguenots seem ever present to my eyes, with
ghastly faces, and weltering in blood.  I wish the innocent
and helpless had been spared."  Orders, however, were sent
round in his name to all the governors of provinces, and all
the commanders of towns, to follow the example of the capital.  Most of them  obeyed, and shrieks and lamentations
filled the villages and cities; but yet not altogether extinguished were French generosity and honour.  Many rejected
te hatefuil rders with contempt.  Dauphiny was protected
from the horrors of assassination by Claude of Savoy; Chabot
saved Burgundy from the stain.  One whose name should
nlever be forgotten, the Viscount of Ortez, wrote from the
frontiers of Normandy   " Sire, I have communicated your
majesty's orders to your faithful inhabitants, and to the troops
in the garrison.  I found there good citizens and brave soldiers, but not one executioner."
-Men who had learned their Ava 2Jarias at their mothers'
knees, and loved their sisters, and played with little Protestant cousins in their boyhood, coulc not shut their hearts from
the natural feelings of compassion.  A great reaction took
place. Henry of Navarre was a man to love and be proud of,
though he was a disobedient son of the Church.  There were
seventy thousand French corpses spread over the face of the
country in this, which has the black name of the M3assacre of
St. Bartholomew, and people began now to reflect it was their
own countrymen they had slain. In the first glow of the
success the fourth war broke out, and the Catholics besieged
Rochelle, but, after great suffering  and heroism, they were




278         ACCESSION OP I-ENIRY THE TTIIRD.  [A. D. 1574
repulsed, and the Duke of Anjou was forced to retire.  But
the bitterness of former struggles was absent.  The Catholicq
lost the ferocity which had characterisecl the frightfill 20th of
August, for a strange revulsion had taken place.  Charles,
haggard with remorse, and tormented with some inwa-rd suffering, turned with suspicious eyes upon his mother.  She
was versed, he well knew, in all the arts of poisoning.  Could
this wasted frame be the result of something she had poured
into his drink?   Were those dreadful recollections not
enougoh, without the further aggravation of feeling that his
mother was the cause of his decay?  He turned his brolen
heart to the Protestants; he tried, by kindness to the living,
to bury the accusations of the dead.  His brother Alen9on
and the AMontmorencies had formed a middle party, to which
the Kincg of Navarre and the Prince of CondlB gave in their
adhesion.  They resolved to bring in peace and concord, by
silencing the extremes on both sides.  But the evil spirit of
France was on the watch: Catherine stirred up the bad passions on both sides.  Alen9on betrayed  their plans to his
mother, and the leaders were arrested.  Montgomery, the
big rough Scotchman whose uncourtliness had put a splinter
in the eye of her husband, Henry the Second, paid with his
head, at the interval of fifteen years, the penalty for his maladroitness as well as his Calvinism.  Executions were plentiful. as before, and Catherine gazed on them with unabated
satisfaction.  But the king, wearied and desponding, had no
taste for these things any more.  He was tortured with new
and mysterious pains of' body, and old and very easily explained agonies of mind, and died on the 30th of Miay, in tlihe
year 1574, with the IMassacre of St. Bartholomew weighing
upon him to the last.
HENRY THE THIRD,
his successor, was in his twenty-fourth year, and h-lad succeeded during that short period of life in deceiving every
friiend deserting every duty, and nullifying every hope.  Wte




A. D. 1574.]   HIS ESCAPE FROMI POLAND.               279
have seen this Duke of Anjou mix freely in the perils of war,
conquer at Jarnac and Mloncontour, and displaying amlong all
his deficiencies the solitary virtue of personal courage.  Even
that deserted him from this time forth.  As in our own James
the Second, whose earlier clays had shown some symptoms of
manly enterprise, but whose timidity became as manifest as
his cruelty, the possession of supreme power made Henry the
Third a voluptuary and a coward.  Tyranny, after crushing
others, exercised its degrading influence on himseif.  After
being employecl by his mother as a bait to secure the assistance, or at least the neutrality, of Elizabeth, by the offer of
his handcl, he had been elected to fill the throne of Poland by
a venal ancd discontented nobility, who showed, even at that
early date, the germs of the perfidy and party-spirit which
finally expunged their country from  the nationalities of Europe; and accompanied by numbers of his favourites, he had
presented himself to his amazed people in the character of
the most unmanly sybarite that ever disgraced a crown
M1fore bigoted than the most fanatical of enthusiasts, flogging
himself in the public street, and joining in the processions.from shrine to shrine, the man, with mocking lips, jeered at
the very saints he pretended to reverence; and while elevating tlhe Polish hopes and filling his private exchequer, he
devoted the chief part of' his time to the company of his sycophants and comrades, talking over their adventures in the
Court of France, and praying for a speedy return to that inifamous society.  Charles died suddenly; and the news was
thought to travel with great rapidity when it reached Cracovia in thirteen days. No[othing could restrain the impatience
of the French nobility to get back to Fontainebleau and the
Louvre.  Poland was in confusion; there were enemies on
the border and malcontents within.  The loyal servants who
had obtained his election derived their only safety from his
presence; the army would resist his departure; so the noble
monarch disguised himself as if he were escaping from a prison,
slipt out of the palace at midlnight, rode without stopping till
he, had reached the borders of his kingdom, and sent a rmes



280            TIE PEACE OF MIONSIEUR.         L[A. D. 1574,
sengel to tLe Austrian ruler that his Majesty the King of
Polandl and France was at his gates.  Great receptions
gratified his puerile vanity at Vienna, and Venice, and Turin.
He wa s fted with more zeal as he drew nearer the seat of
his power, and on the fifth of September, 1574, he crossed the
boundary line into his own dominions, and was received at the
Bridge of Beauvoisin by his brother Alen9on and Henry of
Navarre.
Disgust in a short time took possession of all men's hearts.
They saw the descendant of St. Louis and Francis sink religion int-o ridicule, and knighthood into disgrace.  They saw
a king of France, surrounded by his minions or favourites,
dress himself in woman's clothes, and sing infamous balladls
in a public meeting, and on the same day sing psalms through
the streets dressed in the robe of a penitent —a Christian
Nero, with the solemn voice of Coligny scarcely hushed, and
the grim eyes of the Bible-reading Huguenots fixed on all his
proceedings.  No wonder there was strife and misery in the
land.  Alenpon, wicked as the king, and not so clever, joined
the levies which were gathering  round the  old leaders.
Henry of Navarre escaped from his honourable and closewatched detention by the swiftness of his horse at a huntingparty, and bade his adherents, who camne to him  in great
numbers, once more "' to follow the White Plunme which was
always in the front of battle."  He celebrated his recovered
independence  by resuming the exercise of the Protestant
faith.  But the great families of the Mlontmorencies and
others, who were merely discontentnted with the government,
were disinclined to mix their standards with the avowed Huguenots.  It was, therefore, easy for the queen-mother to
break up the ill-assorted union.  She sent embassies of her
bedchamllber-women to wait on the Duke of Alenlon, and in
a very short time that feeble prince was detached from the
cause.  He, however, mediated a peace which was very favourable to the Reformers.  Their worship was permitted in
all parts of France except in Paris; all edicts against them
were withdrawn; the massacre itself was disavowed; and




A.. 1576.]        THE HOLY LEAGUE.'2S1
several additional towns were surrendered to them as pledges.
This was the fifth peace since the religious wars began, and
was called the Peace of Monsieur, in honour of Alen9on.
The contemptible being who called himself king, and appeared
at ball and theatre with rich necklaces round his bare neck,
and affected the appearance of a female beauty, had no wish,
in signing this pacification, but to be left undisturbed by the
anger of faction or the ambition of his brotlher. To separate
Alen9on from the Huguenots, he would have made greater
sacrifices still.  But the sacrifice he made was quite enough.
The Catholics saw the overthrow of their faith in the terms
of the treaty; the Huguenots the finger of God in the spread
of their opinions.
The Holy League began in 1576-a league which bound
itself by the most awful sanctions to extirpate heresy-to
spare neither friend nor foe -till the pestilence was banished,
and even, if need be, to alter the succession to the throne.
The next heir after the childless Alen9on was a H-Iuguenot;
but ascending far above the successors of Hugh Capet, Bourbon, or Valois, there was a prince whose whole heart was devoted to Rome, and who traced up in lineal descent to Charlemagne —and this was Henry of Guise, son of that old Francis who was assassinated by Poltrot, and who himself bore
marks of his Catholic soldiership in a wound upon his face,
which made him  known as the Balafri.  " No Protestant
King of Navarre! W5e will have Catholic Henry of Guise! 
But Alenhon was by no means pleased with this part of the
League's intentions. He threw himself into its ranks by -way
of stemming its course, and was lost or forgotten in the tumult which raged in every heart.  The king sumnmonecl the
States to meet at Blois, but the States showed the somewhat
contradictory symptoms, not only of hatred of dissent, but of'
something very like republicanism.  They wished to control
the royal power by commissioners appointed by themselves,
whose decision on any disputed question was to be final; and
being bribed and bullied by the party of the Guises, they
passed an edict interdicting the Huguenot faith, and with



282         DISSOLUTION OR THE LEAGUE.   [A. D. 1580
drawing all the guarantee towns from their hands.  This was,
in fact, a declaration of war; the white plume was waving in
the breeze in a moment, and all the party were in arms.
rMore sincerity arose on both sides in viewing the matters in
dispute, and amalgamation became almost impossible. The
king brought discredit on the League and enl himself by joining it as a member. This move degraded him from being
monarch of France to being one of a faction, and not even
chief of it; for in spite of Henry's calling himself the leader
of the confederacy, the real authority remained with Henry
of Guise. The king, for instance, wished to raise money, but
the Balafr' frowned, and the Catholic purses remained closed.
HIe could neither command nor persuade.  His thoughts,
therefore, were soon bent on peace. He managed to obtain
a treaty at Bergerac in 1577, by which the former state of
affairs was restored. A compliment at the same time was
paid to the Huguenots, and a triumph gained to himself, by
the abolition of the League. But one of the articles of the
League was the indissoluble " association and brotherhood of
its members till its objects were obtained."  Now, its objects
could not be obtained while a Huguenot was favoured, or
even tolerated in France, or while there was a chance of the
accession of so dangerous a heretic as Henry of Navarre.
War after war broke out, to the number of seven in all, and
with still increasing hatred; but it is useless to particularise
them. It will serve to show the curious mixture of motive
and action that one of these is called the WTar of the Lovers,
because it arose from the jealousies and rivalries of the leaders
who were invited to meet at the palace of the queen-mother.
That astute Italian introduced a sort of chivalry of vice in the
prosecution of a campaign. She invited the young prince of
Navarre-for he did not take the name of king while his
mother, Jane d'Albret, lived-to come to her court with all
the cavaliers he chose.  There were balls and dances every
night, and the appearance of the greatest cordiality; for a
radius of a mile and a-half was established round the house,
wTithin which quarrels and fighting were unknown. It was




A. D. 1580.]    HENRY SURPRISES CAHORS.              28S
an oasis consecrated to the coarser Venus.  But outside those
narrow limits the war raged with undiminished ardour.  A
Huguenot, lord, after joining in the same dance with a Catholic, would ask him to accompany him for a ride across the
line, and the survivor came in with bloody sword to boast of
the result.  One night Henry gave a return entertainment to
the queen and all the court. When the supper was over,
and the dances were resumed, Henry slipped out of the garden, joined Sully and some other young nobles who were
waiting his arrival, and rode all night. On the followiing day
the queen-mother heard that one of her towns about thirty
miles off had been surprised and pillaged; and when Henry
rode back within the peaceful circle, complimented him on
the success of his stratagem.
But gloomy forebodings began to mingle with these festivities.  Ailenon, to weaken the power of Spain, was allowed
to place himself at the head of the revolted provinces. The
revolt was religious as much as political, and the furious
Leaguers saw the brother of the king and heir of the throne
enlisted against the Church.  His visit to London, to prosecute his claim to Elizabeth's hand, also, though terminating
in ridicule and disappointment, showed his want of attachment to the true faith.  He came back to Paris humiliated
and unsuccessful, both in love and war. His want of zeal
was discoveredl, and not much reliance could be placed on a
man who supported the rebels of Holland and wooed the great
heretic of England.  His death, in 1584, was not lamented
on any other account than that it advanced by one step the
cause of a far more hated, because far more terrible opponent.
The king, however, was more alarmed by the Leaglue than
by his cousin of Navarre, and threw himself upon his counsels for support.  Henry of France and Henry of Navarre
were presented as allies to the public mind in opposition to
Henry of Guise; and the war which broke out in 1585 was
called the war of the Three Henries.  But the weakest of
the three threw the game away. He joined again the Catholies who despised him, and neglected the party who, requiring




284         MAIRY OF SCOTLAND EXECUTED.  [A. D. 158~
his countenance, would have repaid him with devoted alle
giance.  The conduct henceforth of Navarre and  Guise
proved a remarkable contrast.  It was the interest of the
Bourbon to elevate and dignify the throne to which he saw
himself likely to succeed; he therefore treated with profound
reverence the office of the king, and his person with outward
respect.  It was the business of the Guise to degrade the
crown, which would otherwise have been too sacred for a
sacrilegious hand to touch; he therefore treated the king
with marked indignity, and stirred up the lowest passions of
the mob in opposition to the highest authority in the land.
By his success in this policy he made a narrow escape of exciting feelings of hatred to royalty itself, which would have
punished his ambition by taking away the object of it. n01
the 18Sth of February, 1587, the execution of Mary Queen of
Scots fell like a firebrand on the Catholic plans. She had
once been Queen of France, and was the nearest relation to
the Guises. She had been true to but one object throughout
her life, but that object justified and ennobled all her deeds,
for it was the supremacy of the Church.  The violences of the
League, the curses of the Pope, and the threats of Philip of
Spain and of all the Catholics of Europe, had led to the sad
catastroplie, by showing the wise counsellors of Elizabeth,
that while MIary lived and plotted there was no safety for
Protestantism  or freedom; and now the blow recoiled with
tenfold force on the persons who had made it unavoidable.
-Philip began his preparations for the Armada.  Guise concealed no longer his enmity to the king, and roused the populace and parliament of Paris, both of which were entirely at
his command, against him. The infatuated monarch showed
his usual want of judgment. He replied to the reclamations
of the magnistrates by confiscating their salaries, and threatening to throw them in sacks into the Seine. But no course
of proceeding would probably have altered the result.  Victories and defeats had all the same effect. Henry of Navarre
beat an army of Papists commanded by Joyeuse, one of the
minions of the court; and Guise repulsed the enemy from the




A.. D 1588.]  THE DAY OF THE BARRICADES.             285
soil of France in Alsace.  The defeat was attributed to the
king, and the victory to the duke,-a fatal contrast between
him and Guise, of which he could not weaken the effect by
comparison with Navarre.  The two uncrowned Henries were
held up as models for the third, for even the Catholics saw
with a sort of pride the achievements of Henry, who, though
a Huguenot, was a prince and a Frenchman still. This state
of affairs could not last long.  Guise made a solemn entry
into Paris, and was recived with all the ceremony usually reserved for a king.  Henry was at the Louvre, and trembled
at his subject's approach.  irWhen the interview was over,
Guise returned to his house and surrounded it with armed
men, as if to hint that his life was in danger from the king;
a very old trick, and very often successful.  Everything continued quiet on both sides till some Swiss royal guards
marched into the town.  In a moment the mob were up in
arms.  Barricades were erected in the streets; pistols were
fired at the passengers.  The Swiss were attacked, and indiscriminate massacre began.  Catherine strove in vain to induce her unworthy son to go and show himself to the malcontents.  He heard the firing on his troops, and had not the
courage to order them to defend themselves; and while his
mother rode boldly into the streets to quell the insurrection,
he slipt noiselessly to his stables, where the Tuileries gardens
now are, and galloped without pause to Rambouillet.  On
the following day he got safe within the walls of Chartres.
This was called the Day of the Barricades, and for a. while it
certainly advanced the cause of the Duke of Guise.'With
affected moderation he rejected the acclamations of his party,
allowed the Swiss guards to escape, and in other ways endeavoured to pacify the adherents of the king.  But dark
thoughts were already fermenting in that most unkingly and
uncourageous mincl.  He redoubled his religious observances,
a sure sign in him, as in Louis the Eleventh, that some
wickedness was in the wind, and signed a ferocious edict
against Protestantism in all its branches, banishing its professors from the land, and excluding all heretic princes from




286           MURDER OF GUISE AT BLOIS.   [A. D. 1588.
succession to the throne.  Having' done so much for the cause
of Catholicism  and Guise, could the Balafr6 refuse Ihis
invitation to visit him  in his poor house at Blois?  The
States would be summoned at the same place, and all the
difficulties of the country satisfactorily arranged.  The Balafre went-the States assembled.  A meeting was to be held
early in the morning of the 23d of December, 1588; and the
king, it was observed, was at his prayers from four or five
o'clock. Guise came in at eight, and as he crossed the hall that
led to the great staircase the attendants locked and barred
the gates.  The Balafr6 entered the council-chamber, and
was warming himself at the fire, and eating from a box of
bonbons.  A message came that the king wished to see him
in his room.  As the duke lifted up the curtain at the door
he was stabbed by a dozen armed men, and only dragged
himself into the king's chamber, where he expired.  Henry
looked at him with a cowardly delight, and kicked the dead
face as it lay grim and bloody on the floor.  Next day the
Cardinal of Lorraine was slaughtered in his room up-stairs by
the king's guards, and all the adherents of the two brothers
were arrested.  Catherine de M3edicis, who was confined to
her bed, had only time to perceive the success of her lessons
of cruelty and dissimulation, for she died in a fortnight after.
She was at first appalled at the deed, but ratified it by asking the safety of only two of the Guise family.  " Give me
the Duke of Nemours," she said,' and the Duke of Joinville:
they are young, and may live to serve you."'Willingly,
madam," said the king, with a bitter smile, " I will give you
their bodies, but I must have their heads."
Heaven and earth rose against the massacre of Blois.  It
seemed a wilful playing into the hands of the Huguenots to
remove the Catholic chief, and the Pope looked on the deed
not only as murder, but as heresy.  The unruly capital burst
into a cry of disobedience, and the Sorbonne formally withdrew the allegiance of the people from  an unworthy king.
The name of Royalist was as fatal as that of Huguenot had
been.   The president Harlay, and sixty of the councillors,




A. D. 1589.]    RESULrS OF THE MURDER.             287
who bore the royal commission, were only saved from death
by being taken to the Bastile. WThen the meeting at Blois
was dissolved, the members spread the flame of disaffection
through town and country.  The Duke of Mayenne, brother
of the murdered Guise, was declared by the Council of Sixteen, consisting of deputies from the sixteen quarters of Paris,
lieutenant-general of the kingdom, till the States-General
could be assembled.  In short, the king was deserted by his
people, and nothing was wanting but the formal sentence of
his deposition. Henry of Navarre saw his inheritance endangered, and came to the rescue. An interview took place between the cousins; the Most Christian King, and the most
chivalrous Bourbon. It was not altogther regard for his own
interests which moved the new ally. In so ulnsettled a nation
as France then was, a forcible change of dynasty would have
ted to unending conflict, for there was no power like our
Houses of Parliament, in the cases of English ejections from
the throne, to give it any higher sanction than that of force.
To save his country from perpetual civil war or total anarchy
was the object of Henry's efforts. His plans were bold and
masterly.  The few devoted adherents who still clung to their
sovereign, from  hereditary attachment, or from  the poetic
compassion which binds noble natures to a fallen race, accepted the guidance of the Huguenot chief. Mayenne was
repulsed from Tours, and when men saw such measures of
tenderness, as now distinguished the royal army, announced
in the royal name, and such admirable military tactics displayed under the royal banner, the personal vices of the
nominal monarch began to be forgotten. Opposition was
paralysed by the consciousness that the royal authority was
now supported by conduct worthy of a king; and at the end
of July, an army of forty thousand men, confident in their
leader, and restored to the full feeling of loyalty to the
throne, commenced the siege of Paris. Henry of Valois
gazed on the hated battlements with delight.  "Farewell,
Paris," he said; " from this time your towers and pinnacles
shall offend my eyes no more. I will make it difficult to dis



288                JACQUES CLEMIENT.          [A. D. 1589.
cover where your position was."  But Henry of Navarre was
more wisely employed. He was superintencling the placing
of the troops, bringing up the guns, arranging the tents; and
it was understood that the day of assault was fixed for the 2d
of August. Mayenne saw no chance of safety.  His garrison
was weak and dispiritedl; the populace, with its usual fickleness, was cowardly where it was not mad. But among the
rabble there was a youth of twenty-two, who had been a
Jacobin friar for some time, and had degraded the cowl by
the wildest excesses, both of debauchery and blood.  Every
crime was sweet-smelling odour to Jacques Clement the
monk. I-e wore a dagger which was displayed with ferocious
energy in every quarrel, and yet was fanatical in his religious
beliefs, and carried the practices of superstition and idolatry
to an almost insane extent.  This was a sort of man who
might be extremely useful in the distress to which the Catholic party were reduced. He was sent for by the Duchess of
Montpcnsierj sister of the Duke of Guise, a woman so wicked
that her conduct drives us into a charitable unbelief of its
reality, and used such arguments and arts with the blinded,
arrogant, sensual young fanatic, that he went forth on the
Ist of August, determined to repay his benefactress for her
goodness and condescension in the way she herself had prescribed. Letters were furnished to him, which were obtained
by false pretences from the president Harlay in the Bastile,
and on presenting them he was admitted to the camp of the
besiegers and taken into the presence of the king.  While
H-Ienry was reading the missive which Clement put into his
hand, the Jacobin drew a knife from his sleeve, and stabbed him
in his chair. It was not at once fatal.  The king started up,
and drawing the weapon from his side, wounded his assailant
in the face thus mixing on the same blade the blood of the
assassin and his victim.  The attendants rushed forward and
hilled the murderer at once. A happy chance for his employer, for her name escaped the formal revelation which a
trial would have produced.  Henry was placed in his bed,
and for a while hopes were entertained of his recovery




A. D. 15S9.]   DEATH OF HENRY THE THIRD.           289
Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it. An undiscovered spring of goodness welled forth as his last hour
drew nigh. He forgave his enemies, recommended himself
to his friends, embraced the hero of Navarre, and thanked
him for all his aid. He turned to the crowd in the apartment, and declared Henry his rightful and true successor, and
addedl, "Dear cousin and brother-in-law, be sure of this, you
will never be King of France unless you profess yourself a
Catholic."  If the dignity and tenderness of a deathbed
could have wiped out the vices and deficiencies of all his
former years, Henry the Third might have been reckoned
among the kings who have done honour to the crown.  But
the inflexible verdict of history must be delivered upon the
course of a man's life, and not on the expressions or aspirations of his last hours; and the last of the Valois must be
pronounced a king without honesty or patriotism, and a man
wTithout courage or virtue.
Meanwhile he is lying dead upon his blood-stained bed,
and Henry of Navarre has proposed an immediate assault
upon the devoted town. Some of the assembled nobles have
kneeled in sign of fealty to the rightful heir; but many deeds
are yet to be done before he can be written of as the acknowledged KIing of France. At present he is a politician
and a warrior, and in both capacities a great field is open for
his skill. VWhen the Catholics within the walls heard of the
success of their emissary, their joy knew no bounds.  The
Duchess of 3Montpensier fell into the arms of the messenger
who brought her the news, and kissed the lips which conveyed
such tidings of great joy.  She got into a carriage, and
shouted the intelligence through the streets. The churches
-so dreadful was the perversion of men's minds-were filled
with triumphant worshippers returning thanks. Jacques
Clement was declared a martyr to the faith, and his mother
was compared by the blasphemous assemblage to the Holy Virgin who had carried the Saviour of mankind upon her breast.
\When the intelligence reached Rome, the rejoicings were still
more revolting.  Sixtus the Fifth pronounced the assassin's
19




290             "wTHE IMAN OF BEARN.        I[A. D. 1589.
praises in full consistory, and compared his achievement in
usefulness and self- sacrifice to the incarnation and crucifixion,
In Germany and England the deed was differently viewed.
Elizabeth got ready troops to be landed in Normandy in aid
of the new king. Lutherans and Swiss canme pouring into
France. Yet Henry's position was dangerous and undefined.
The nobles who commanded his armies were Catholics as
zealous as the enemy. Before the corpse of the late king was
cold, they'proposed to his successor a retractation of his Huguenot errors, and conformity to the Church.' You don't
know what you ask," replied Henry.  " You require a change
which would argue no sincerity either in one faith or the
other. If you think to terrify me to so sudden an alteration,
you know neither my courage nor my conscience."  " Sire,"
cried the gallant Givry, and kneeled at his feet, "you are the
true king of the brave, and none but a coward would desert
you."  The others, however, hung back.  The spirit and
principles of the League remained unbroken.  The Cardinal,jof Bourbon was even proclaimed by Mayenne under the name?of Charles the Tenth. All the victories which made Henry's
name distinguished had been gained over Catholic foes. If
full powers were conveyed to him, would his policy of depressing the Leaguers not be continued?  Henry came to an
agreement. He consented to accept a conditional allegiance,
binding himself to study the doctrines of the Catholic faith;
to summon a States-General at Tours; to restore to the
churches the goods of which they had been despoiled; and to
limit the privileges of the Reformers to the places in which
they at present existed.  These things were all to be done;within six months. In reliance on these terms, he was recognised sole sovereign of France, and entitled to the obedience
of all. But Paris still resisted, and riots and massacres were
continually renewed under pretence of religious fears, till
Mayrenne himself was glad to leave that city of contention
and misrule, and take the field against the Man of Bearn, as
he was insultingly called.  The quality and composition of
the contending forces had greatly changed.  Iayenne, at the




A. D. 1589.]    SAYINGS OF THE KING.                291
head of preponderating numbers, besieged Henry in Arqcues,
and was only repelled by the union, which his great rival displayed, of the courage of despair and the calmness of military skill.  Wiith a mixed army of English, French, Germans, and Swiss, he found it difficult to keep them together,
as his ptiurse was low, and the diversity of tongues and nations
prevented the unity of the force. To fight was the only way
to combine those discordant elements; and at Ivry, on the
13th of March, 1590, he obtained a brilliant success.  Mayenne fled.  "C Save the French! " cried Henry, when the pursuit was hottest; "c down with the foreigners   Strike and
spare not! "-an unacceptable observation, if understood by
his mercenaries from England and other lands.  Let us hope
it was spoken in purest French, and unintelligible to strangers' ears. It referred to the Spaniards who had been sent by
Philip to aid the Catholic cause, and prepare a way for his
own ambition.  He desired a repeal of the Salic law, and the
acknowledgment of his daughter Isabella as heiress to her
grandfather Henry the Second.
After this a new power displayed itself, which had never
played a part in the quarrels of a nation before.  It was the
brilliancy of the sayings of the new king, which spread all
through France, the land of all others in Europe where a brilliant saying has most weight.  After the combat of Arques,
where he had been foremost in the attack, he wrote to his
friend the Duke of Crillon, "Hang yourself, brave Crillon;
we have fought at Arques, and you weren't there."  " Gentlemen," he said before the battle of Ivry, " if you miss the
standards at any time, look for my white plume; it will lead
you to honour and victory."  At supper, on the night before,
he had spoken harshly to an old German of the name of
Schomberg; and while he was nmarshalling the troops before
the charge, he stopped his horse.  " Colonel," he said, "we
have work before us, and it may chance I don't survive;
but I must not carry with me the honour of a gentleman
like you. I beg your pardon for what I said last night, and
declare you a brave and honourable man."  He embraced the




292                HIS GENEROSITY.           [A. D. 1589
colonel.  "Ah! sire," said the German in his broken language, " you kill me with your words, for now there is nothing
for it but to die in your defence."  Schomberg dicl so. He
rode up to the rescue of the king in the hottest of the fight,
and fell before Henry's eyes. When he besieged Paris,
Mayenne sent out the useless people, who had been starving
for some days. Henry fed them, and soothed their fears.
Some peasants were brought before him for having introduced
provisions into the beleaguered town, and expectedl to be
hanged for aiding the rebels. HIe gave them all the money
he had in his purse.  " The Man of Bearn is poor," he said 
"if he were richer, he would give you more."  One of his
captains, the Sieur de Barri, was governor of Leucate, a small
place near Narbonne. He was taken prisoner by the Catholics, who carried him before the wall, and threatened to hang
him if his wife would not surrender the town. She refused,
and the Leaguers killed her husband. She had a Catholic
prisoner of equal rank in her hands, but she disdained reprisals, and let him go. Henry heard of her conduct, and this
was her reward:-He appointed her governor (not governess)
of Leucate till the majority of her son; thus giving a man's
honour to her who had shown a man's heart.  Comparecl to
these actions and words of Henry, the condclct of his opponents was not only unchivalrous but unpopular.  Divisions
raged high among the leaders of the League. BIayenne wished
to be king; the Duke of Lorraine wishedl his son to be king;
and when Henry of Guise, the son of Balffr6, escaped froml
his prison of Tours, and joined the garrison of Paris, lie also
wished to be king. The Infanta, or daughter of Spain, wished
to be queen; and it did not need half the quickness which is
always found in the French to perceive that, comparecl witht
any or all of his competitors, the man of the white plume andl
the generous spirit was the fittest occupant of the throne.
But a rigorous pontiff filled the Roman chair.  Sixtus the
Fifth would hear of no accommodation with a heretic, and
H-enry would hear of no recantation when his motives might
be suspected.'"Master first, disciple afterwards," was his




A. D. 1590.]  THE DUKE OF PARAIMA IN FRANCE.       293
motto, and the war went on. The Sixteen, as the sections
of Paris called themselves, were in the pay of Spain. Availing themselves of the absence of Mayenne, they encouraged
the brutal populace to break out into a riot; they tore the more
moderate of the judges friom their seats, and hung them with
theirpresident, above the doorway of the court. Mayenne came
back. Great was his fear of Henry, but greater his wrath
against the Sixteen. He hanged four of them from lampposts in the street, and restored the ordinary municipal officers to their authority.  But regular authority dislikes rebellion, and the now pacified city looked kindly on the legitimate heir.  Other opponents were driven over to his side by
the injudicious aid his enemies received. Alexander Farnese,
Duke of Parma, was the most famous general of the time,
and had been chosen to bring the legions of Spain and the
chains of the Inquisition over here in the year of the Armada,
1588. He was now selected to head the same legions to support the fantastic claim of his master's daughter. H[enry was
driven to extremities, for Alexander was unluckily the most
cautious of commanders, and always refused a battle.  The
daring gallantry of the royalists, with Henry at their head,
fell back like sparkles of foam before the imperturbable solidity of th'e Spanish lines.  They would not fight-they would
not retreat-they solemnly performed the work assigned to
them, the protection of a border or the relief of a tovw.n, but
they would do nothing more. Alexander of Parma was not
at all like Alexander of Macedon, for he had nothing of the
hero in him except his courage, and trustecl nothing to chance.
Against policy like this the Man of Be3arn had no defence.
His allies were not united in their desires. The English
wished to drive the Spaniards from the shores of Brittany and
Normandy, where they would have been dangerous neigthbours
to Elizabeth; Henry wished to drive them fiom the middle
of France and send them to the shore, where they could do
least harm to himself. He could raise no taxes by the legal
machinery of Parliament and Council, and would not lay
hard contributions on the districts he held. He was the




294           HENRY STUDIES THEOLOGY.    [x. I. 1590
poorest of gentlemen, this most lovable of kings; and hints
are given that his Miajesty's apparel was not altogether free
from darns, or his boots from holes in the leather. Nothing,
kept its gloss but the plume of white feathers which swayed
above his head, and his bright sword and imperturbable goodhumour.  While in this condition his great adversary, Alexander of Parma died (December, 1502), and his fortunes revived. He gathered all his forces for a last attempt upon
Paris, and his enemies as usual played into his hands. The
same cowardly bigot, Philip of Spain, who had united all
classes and creeds of Englishmen in favour of Elizabeth by
his insolent Armadca, now was the creator of French union
by his domineering conduct in France.  Mayenne summoned
a States-General at his request, and Philip there in no courteous terms stated his royal will; it was very short and very
decisive-they were to accept his daughter as queen, that was
all. A compromise was attempted; they would declare the
Duke of Guise king, and he should marry the Infanta. Philip
refused; his daughter should be queen in her own right,
and then would marry Guise. Maye nne, who saw, whether
it was king or queen, his pretensions were at an end, procured a resolution of the Parliament of Paris, that "any sentence, decree, or declaration, contrary to the Salic law, should
be void and of non-effect." Whatever strengthened the Salic
law and the direct succession was a vote on the side of Henry
of Navarre. The royalist army, the lawyers of the League,
and now the Parliament of Paris, had virtually pronounced
in favour of his claim. Nothing was wanting to secure the
unity and peace of the kingdom but the acceptance by the
king of the religion of the majority. If he could only believe
that the Pope was the first Bishop of Christendclom —that
mysterious power rested on the consecrated priest-that the
holy men who carried humanity to its highest point by the
virtues of their lives, were now, with increased authority, permitted to watch over human affairs-if he could only believe
that images and pictures were aids to pure devotion, and that
only within the boundaries of a divinely-founded, divinely



A. D. 1594.]    CONFORMS TO THE CHURCH.            295
supported Church, salvation was to be found, what blessings
could he not shower cdown on twelve or fourteen millions of
people —what laws might he not enact-what charities might
he not bestow-what glory might he not obtain! It'does not
become us to pass judgment on the sincerity of his conversion.
The inclination to believe was strong, and to some minds we
find even now the romantic and poetic element contained in
the old faith, with all its recorded martyrdoms and miracles,
is irresistible, at the sacrifice, instead of the gain, of worldly
standing; and we must accept the declaration of faith which
Henry gave in the Church of St. Denis, on the 25th of July
1593, as the sincere expression of his heart and mind.  Best
proof of the sincerity of his Christian feeling and of the reality
of the sentiments he professed was this, that he did not turn
a persecutor-he did not sneer at the party he had left, or
hold them up as hypocrites or knaves. He acknowledgedl,
wkvith the self-respect he knew to be his due, that it does not
require a man to be a traitor as well as a convert, or to gain
favour with his new communion by mean insinuations or bitter invectives against his old. Henry did not run: the risk of
being considered a dissembler in both his religions-a false
Protestant feigning an opposition to the Papists which he did
not feel-a false Papist scattering libels upon the Protestants
which he could not believe-for he was manly and above
board, not less in his conformity than in his resistance. And
now the Catholic Henry was crowned king of France, 27th
February 1594.




CHAPTER XII.
HENRY THE FOURTH, A. D. 1594, TO THE DEATH OF LOUIS THE THIRTEENTH, A. D. 1643.
CROWNED king, with a hand equally fitted to hold the seeptre and wield the sword, Henry the Fourth made the nation
feel the beneficial effects of a strong government at once.
Twice he had besieged Paris-twice he might have taken it:
once by famine, and he fed the wretched inhabitants; once
by storm, but he would not expose it to the horrors of an
assault; and we may guess with what feelings he was now
received within the reconciled and grateful city. In this
great contest the delightful thing was that both parties
thought they had won: the Leaguers, because they had put
a Catholic on the throne; the Huguenots, because their leader and champion had gained all he desired. God save the
king! was shouted all clay long when he entered into the
capital, which, however, at that moment was garrisoned by
Spanish troops. The united Leaguers and Huguenots stood
round their sovereign. He politely invited the foreigners to
leave his good town, and stood at the Porte St. Denis to see
them go. They defiled past him, and in answer to their salute, he said, " Good-by, gentlemen. gMy compliments to
your master, but don't come here any more."  The only two
powers who delayed the recognition of the king were the Pope
and Philip. The former intended to make a bargain for his
complaisance, and the latter never forgave any one who ran
counter to his plans. The Catholic Henry availed himself of
the Plragmatic which had conveyed the patronage of abbeys




A. D. 1595.]   EXPULSION OF THE JESUITS.           297
and bishoprics to the Crown, and turned the tables on the
Holy Father by employing the honours of the Church in pacifying' the State. If a zealous Leaguer still held back, hesitating to believe the sincerity of the conversion, he was convinced of the Catholicism of the most Christian KIing by the
bestowal of the revenues of a vacant stall or rich deanery.
Villars Brancas, a zealous papist and gallant soldier, who was
governor of Rouen against the king, never gave credit to
Henry's attachment to the Church till he was presented with
two or three abbacies for his own enjoyment. PRouen then
opened its gates, and the military abbot did suit and service
to his orthodox and discriminating patron. All the leaders
were softened by the same arts, and at last Guise and Mlontmorency were admitted into favour.  Guise, a disappointed
opponent, was made governor of Provence; and tMontmorency, a discontented supporter, received the constable's staff.
Hatred, doubt, and bitterness, of course lay for a long time in
the hearts of the fanatical and ambitious.  Clement the
Eighth, the fifth Pope who within four years had sat on the
Roman throne, had not pronounced the absolution of Henry's
previous unbelief, and a youth, a pupil of the Jesuits, imbued
with their principles, if not incited in this instance by their
advice, attempted the murder of the king. His knife slipped,
and only inflicted a trifling wound; but the whole nation was
awake to the indignity of the action. The University and
Parliament pronounced against the Jesuits, and they were orderedl from the soil of France. Henry confessed the step was
necessary, but it was not legal, and in a few years he revoked the sentence of banishment, and allowed the society to return.
Meanwhile he required some outlet for the national spirit,
some point of union for the national animosities. All Frenchimn hated Philip, and he declared war on Spain, January
1595. Henry kept himself in the centre, ready to fly to the
rescue of any of his peers. Biron was hard pressed in Burgundy, and retreated on the Marne;-Henry hurried down
and won a brilliant victory at Dijon. An adherent at Mar



298           PUNISHMENT OF MAYENNE.    [A. D. 1596.
seilles slew the traitorous consul of that city, and admitted
Guise, who was now a true servant of the Crown, within the
walls.  Henry was received with acclamations, and the Spaniards who held the citadel were expelled. At last, when all
the gallant soldiers of the realm were anxious for an opportunity of' display; and none had any theatre for their talents
unless under Henry's command, the gratifying intelligence
was given to the king that Mayenne himself, the general of
the League and competitor fbr the Crown, was coming in to
make his submission. He was immensely fat, and very short
of breath.  Henry received him in a broad walk of his garden, and after listening to his complaints, kept him in earnest
conversation, walking all the time at a far quicker pace than
usual. Panting, puffing, red in the face, and very weary on
his legs, the Duke de Mayenne did not dare to interrupt the
king's talk, and on they went, the king pacing as if for a wager, and the prodigious bulk of Mayelnne visibly melting away
with heat and agitation. At last he could hold out no longer,
and begged to be allowed to rest.  " Cousin," cried the king,
bursting into a laugh, "'I'm  glad you've spoken at last, for
this is all the punishment I intend to inflict on you for your
opposition."  And severe enough punishment it was, for another half hour would probably have been the death of him.
Measures were now taken to improve the internal administration of the country. An assembly of notables was convoked at Rouen, and Henry granted them full powers, telling
them he had summoned them, not to register his commands,
but to give him their advice. The design was admirable, but
the principles of civil government had fallen into disuse.
There were blind monarchists in the meeting, and blind republicans too. Some thought it treason to interfere with the
royal prerogative, and others thought that no interference with
it could be too much. While these discussions went on, the
Spaniards surprised Amiens by a sudden march, and the war
interfered with reform. Henry showed all his ancient valour,
and some of his ancient foolhardiness.  "I have played the
king of France too long," he said, " I must give them a spe



A. s. 159S.j       EDICT OP NANTES.                 299
cinen of the king of Navarre."  He attacked the Arcclduke
Albert of Austria at the head of a small body of horse, and
the Spaniards, persuaded that such audacity could only proceed from an enemy with immense support in the rear, retreated before a twentieth of their force. All France was
soon cleared of foreign enemies, and domestic factions were
now to be reconciled. Peace! peace! was as earnest a cry
of Henry as of our own Lord Falklandl; and in that sacred
word, as he called it, he included the closing up of religious
differences.  On the 13th of April 1598, he issued the celebrated Edict of Nantes, conveying toleration in its widest
sense to the dissidents from the established faith.  Peace with
Spain was signed at Vervins on the 2d of May of the same
year, and a greater security was given for the repose of France,
and the pacification of Europe, than the signature of so false
and truculent a tyrant as Philip, by his death, which' occurred in September. He had offended every State by his ambition, and sickened every heart by his cruelty.  His country
retaining its size and the appearance of power and grandeur,
lay in reality like a water-logged first-rate on the sea, with
its crew in mutiny, and its guns dismounted.  It needed only
a storm or an enemy to make it founder or strike.
With peace a great king only changes the field of his labours. There was the devastation of thirty years to be repaired, irregularities in government to be corrected, and contentment to be restored to the great body of the people. But
the talent of a great king is not less shown by the choice of
his counsellors in peace than of his generals in war. Henry
had remarked from an early period the wisdom and self-command of a young Protestant of the name of de Rosni, who
had been presented to him in 1571, when he was only eleven
years old.  Cautious and calculating, as befitted his Scottish
blood (for he was of the family of the Bethunes), but bold
and enterprising, when occasion offered, as his master himself,
de Rosni found himself consulted on affairs of the deepest importance before he had risen above a captain's rank in the
military array. Ever rising With the fortunes of the king, de




300                    REFORMS.                LA. D. 159&
Rosni, at the time we have now reached, was intendant of the
finances, and grand master of the artillery of France.  But,
more than all these, he was the king's friend, without a touch
of courtiership, and his adviser, without a thought of self-interest.  With the help of a man so wise and so patriotic, affairs rapidly began to mend. The income of the State was
raised without exaction, and spent with economy.  The first
reform was in the mode of raising the taxes, of which it was
discovered that not more than a sixth part reached the royal
exchequer.  This was put an end to by the dismissal of almost all the intermediate receivers, and a direct payilent being made to the treasury, by which the expenses of collection
were afterwards paid.  The next and more difficult reform
was the abrogation of certain exemptions which diminished
the number of contributories to the public finances, and of
course increased the liabilities of the tax-paying class.  By a
fatal retention of feudal privilege, the French nobility had
asserted their freedom from the ordinary taxation of the State,
even after their feudal obligation of personal service in war
was communted for an equivalent in money.  Payment of a
national burden would have been degradation to their rank as
nobles.  Now it had also become an established rule, during
the wars and struggles of the last half-century, that the profession of arms ennobledcl, that is, that active service in the field
withdrew a man, whatever his birth might be, from the list
of roturiers or taxable plebeians, and made him  so far on a
level with the highest in the land.  Another class had availed
itself of the exemption conveyed by the possession of certain
estates which were suffered to carry a title of nobility with
them; and rich tradesmen and successful lawyers had purchased " ennobling lands," for the double purpose of assuming a territorial title, and delivering themselves from the burden of taxation.  If we consider the number of fighting captains and purse-proud receivers, and others who had either
carried a sabre or filled their pockets since the reign of Francis the First, we shall see what a host of enemies was raised
by the undaunted de Riosni, when he withdrew the rank and




A. D. 1600.] HENRY MARRIES IMARY DE MEDICIS.       301
privilege both from soldier and landowner.  There was to be
no title to true nobility except descent from noble fathers, or
direct creation by the king. The nobles of the sword, and acquirers of seignorial fiefs, were therefore plain misters again, and
contributed to the public income in proportion to their means.
~ But the counsellor and the king were equally fi-tted to
each other in other respects. If Henry had the misfortune, to
retain the fire and passions of his youth till long after his hair
was grey, and threatened never to grow old, he had the counterbalancing advantage, in the sagacious de Rosni, of a guide
and adviser who had never been young at any period of his
life. Always steady, and unbiassed by the tastes or frivolities
of the time, the youth of nineteen had had the calmness of a
sage of forty, and now at forty he had the affectionateness and
zeal of a youth of nineteen. All his affectionateness and zeal
were brought into play by the divorce the king insisted on in
1599. Margaret of Valois was the bride, you remember,
whose marriage was celebrated with the bloody rejoicings of
the Bartholomew massacre seven-and-twenty years before.
HIer life had answered to that fearful beginning; for she was
lone of the most debased and infamous of women, in a time
when the standard of female virtue was not so high as it is at
present.  Reception into the Romish Church opened a way
for the dissolution of the marriage, and the newly-converted
Henry applied for it as a favour as well as a right. Nothing could
resist the evidence, but the Court of Rome is famous for its
delay. In the interval Henry was captivated by the beauty
of a young lady of noble family, and was prepared to offer
her a promise of marriage. De Rosni was consulted on the
point, and tore the proposed engagement to pieces, when the
king showed him the paper he had written, exposing himself
by the action to the rage of his master and the hatred of the
powerful family of the disappointed damsel. To prevent similar imprudences, a marriage was hurried on in a few months
after the sentence of separation was pronounced by the Pope,
and another de Medicis mounted the throne of France. Miary
de }M.edicis had no brilliant virtues to extinguish the mem



302                STORY OF BIRON.          [A. D. 1600.
ory of her relative and predecessor Catherine, but she
had none of the darker vices to recall that personage's
reign. It would be pleasant if we could say that the charms
of domestic happiness weaned the king from the course of life
he had so long pursued; but the truth must not be concealed that his career of sensuality continued to the close. His
reign is marked by the succession of his favourites as well as
of his victories and laws; and these love-passages, as they
were called, entered so deeply into the popular view of the
monarch, and became so mixed up in the ballads and memoirs
of the time, that many who know nothing about the battle
of;Ivry or the Edict of Nantes, derive their idea of his
character from the story of the Fair Gabrielle or MIarie de
Beauvilliers. Nothing could be more misleading than any
belief of the kind. His true lineaments were drawn in the
cabinet of de Rosni, who is better known as Duke of Sully,
and not in the boudoir of contending beauties. It was there
that, in 1602, he had to make head against a revolt-not of
his people, whose heart he had won by the care he took of
their interests, and the homely but noble wish he expressed
that the time might soon come when every Frenchman might
have a hen in his pot-but by a contention of nobles whom
his great qualities alarmed, and who were forced to raise upon
their side, against a patriotic king of the seventeenth century,
the prejudices and ignorance of the thirteenth.
The great chiefs of the old nobility, whom he had appointed governors of counties, or who retained in their genealogical books records of the time when they were equals of
royalty and independent within their own domains, entered
into absurd plots to bring back the days of Richard of England and  Philip Augustus.  Foremost and most foolish
among these was the Marshal de Biron, Henry's chosen friend
and fellow-soldier, and the last man he would have suspected
of treachery or disaffection. But Biron was the vainest of
men, and was deluded into the hope of a duchy, or even a
kingdom, by the aid of Spain and Savoy, and of his discontented brethren, the Guises and de Bouillons and BMontmo



A. D. 1602.]   POLITICAL DESIGN OF HENRY.          303
rencies.  Biron's movements, however, were known; and
Henry sent for him, and told him his plots were discovered.
In a fit of repentance or of returning friendship, Biron renewed his fealty, and half-confessed his crime; but the
tempters were at work as before. He transgressed againwas arrested, imprisoned, tried and beheaded-the last example of a conspiracy for the recovery of feudal rights-the
first example of a great dignitary judicially convicted of high
treason, and executed in course of law. The terror was greater
that the leniency of the kingwas known, and his anxiety to pardon the culprit if he would only condescencl to confess his fault.
The companions of his crime were, therefore, either silent and
submissive, or fled to foreign lands. It was thus that, before
the crown had been twelve years upon his heacl, Henry had
no enemy and no gainsayer in all the realm of France.  Protestant and Catholic vied with each -other in affection to his
person, and for the first time in all the weary years we have
surveyed, from the disturbed times of Charlemagne and his
sons, to the victories of England and the WVars of the League,
the kingdom was at unity in itself. An heir to the throne,
born in 1601, had given another support to the house of Bourbon, and another security to France. There was no chance
now of a change'of dynasty, or a dispute about the succession.
After consolidating his power at home, and endearing himself
to his people more and more by his care of their pecuniary
interests-with his arsenals filled with stores, his harbours
with ships, and his army ready for summons at a moment's
notice-Henry looked across the borders of his beloved and
happy France, and made up his mind to carry into effect a
plan which he had entertained for many years. It is called
in history the Political Design of Henry the Fourth, and has
generally been treated with opposition as injudicious, or with
contempt as impossible.
WVe, who only know Spain in its decay and Austria as an
ill-compacted power, can form a very slight estimate of the
fears caused at this time by the preponderance of the House
of Hapsburg. The two branches into which it was divided




304           CONSOLIDATION OF STATES.    [A. D. 1608.
held more than the half of Europe. But greater than the influence they had exercised through their territorial pre-eminence, was the might they possessed in countries under other
crowns, by their being recognised the chiefs and supporters
of Catholicism wherever it was to be found. At this time
the bent of men's mincls, and the force of circumstances, hadl
led to the combination of various hitherto discordant states.
The counties and dukedoms of France, we have seen, had
all become welded into a firm and solid domain. England and
Scotland, forgetting their political animosities, accepted the
decree of geography, and were one Great Britain under the
same king. Switzerland had increased the closeness of the
ties between its cantons. The provinces of the Netherlands,
subdued and powerless under their foreign yoke, hacl formed
themselves into a compact confederacy in successful resistance
to Philip and his son. To make up for this loss, Spain had
amalgamated Portugal; and the Peninsula presented an appearance of union from the Pyrenees to Gibraltar, and from
the Mediterranean to the Atlantic. Gathered in rich dependence on this enormous realm lay Naples and Sicily, Sardinia and
the States of Milan; and far away, magnified by distance, and
awful from their unknown dimensions and population, the vast
regions that owned its sway in America. The other branch
held the Empire, which gave it a supremacy over the whole
of Germany, while the Emperor, in his separate capacity, was
king of Austria, Bohemia, Hungary, and Transylvania.  The
union between the houses was strict and indissoluble; and
when Protestantism  examined the strength and number of
its opponents-in which formally it was forced to include the
Most Christian King, who had only attained his throne by
forsaking its communion-the prospect seemed dark and almost hopeless either for religious or civil freedom; for the
more attentively we examine history, clearer and clearer rises
before us the great and sacred truth that these two are inseparable. Besides the dominions held in direct sovereignty
by Spain and Austria, there were all the little potentates of
Italy to weigh down the already overloaded scale. The Pope,




A. D. 1603.]    DISTRIBUTION OF POWER.             305
the Duke of Mantua, and the Commonwealth of Genoa, were
so surrounded by the possessions of the Hapsburgs, that they
had no liberty of action even if their religious tenets did not
lead them willingly to adhere to the Catholic cause. Great
Britain, on the other hand, was a Protestant power; so were
Holland and the northern states of' Germany, and Denmark
and Sweden. What was there laughable or impossible in the
creation, out of these elements, of a counterpoise to the dangerous overweight of the two great and allied monarchies?
We of the present generation, who see the fulfilment of
Henry's object in the established balance of power by the
erection of a tribunal of war and peace, constituted of the
five great monarchies of Europe, can do little more than admire the wisdom of a statesman who, two hundred and fifty
years ago, had the foresight to desire a central court of arbitration and government, in which every European community
should have a voice. We need not follow the plans by which
it was proposed to achieve this end; but the things aimed at
have almost all been accomplished. Spain was to be reduced
to her peninsular domains; America and the West Indies
thrown open to trade; the House of Savoy strengthened by
a great increase of territory in Piedmont, and eventually by
the possession of Lombardy.  M3ore independent authority
was to be given to the princes of Germany; and the crowns
of Spain and the Empire were to be rendered incapable of being
held by members of the same family. From the early part of
1601, the great arrangement had occupied the thoughts of
Henry and Sully. In that and succeeding years a correspondence on the subject was carried on with Elizabeth, who suggested several articles in the plan; and though James occasion-.
ally agreed to it, and even professed himself willing to immortalise his name by taking all the honour of the original idea to,
himself, he was of too feeble a mind, and frivolous a character,
even to understand a scheme which might have realised the
dreams which political enthusiasts already began to entertain,
of a perpetual peace, where civilisation and Christianity should
rule over different kingdoms as if they were merely provinces
20




306                WAR BREAKS OUT.             LA. D. 1610
of the same realm, and the barbarian Turks, expelled beyond
the Bosphorus, should terminate their debased and brutal national existence in the wildernesses from which they sprang.
Christendom  for Christians, and Europe a Brotherhood of
States, might have been the motto inscribed on the banners
of the confederates in this holy cause.  In 1609 the incident
occurred which had been waited for as the signal for action on
the part of France. The dukedom of Cleves became vacant
by the death of John William, without children for his succession.  The candidates were the Catholic Duke of Saxe,
and the Lutheran Elector of Brandenburg, and the Calvinist
Count Palatine of Neuburg.  The Emperor pronounced for
the Catholic, and Henry took part with the Protestant
princes.  War burst out like a fire that has smouldered in
secret.  The German rivals were anxious to decide their
quarrel before the arrival of the King of France.  The territory in dispute was therefore, as is usual in struggles of this
sort, made the theatre of incalculable sufferings; it was made
a desert by both parties, because it could not peaceably be
enjoyed by either.
But however the contest might appear to vary in details,
the result was evidently foreseen.  Henry, the foremost warrior of his time, was again in the saddle with thousands of the
men of Arques and Ivry, ready to follow him  as of old, in
company with their sons. The Popish prospects, on the other
hand, were gloomy in the extreme.  The Swiss and Savoyards
were interposed as barriers between the forces of Spain and
Italy and the plains of Germany. Venice protected the shores
of the Adriatic, and the Emperor was engaged in quelling revolts in Hungary and Bohemia.  All the Catholics of Europe
who preferred the supremacy of the faith to the liberties of
their country, cried shame on the eldest son of the Church,
-who deserted his mother in her distress.  Lutheranism, Calvinism, Anglicanism, all raised their heads and prayed for the
success of the Most Christian King.  On the 14th of May
1610 the king got into his coach to go to the arsenal and take
leave of Sully, who was Grand Master of the Artillery. He




A. D. 1610.] IIENITa   IURDERED BY RAVAILLAC.         307
was on the eve of parting for the Rhine, and great schemes
were revolving in that now grizzled head whose active fancies
age had failed to subdue.  Beside him  in the great vehicle,
which was almost as large as a modern omnibus, sat seven
noblemen of his court.  They had turned froml the Louvre
into one of the narrow streets, and were interrupted by some
encumbrance on the road.  WAThile the carriage stopped till
the obstacle was removed, a man of great height, muffled in
a cloak, and with a broad-brimmed hat over lris brows, stood
up on the spokes of the wheel, clashed his arm into the windcow, and struck Henry with a knife.  A second stab pierced
the most gallant and loving~ heart in Christendom, and the
king fell back dead.  There was awe and consternation all
round.  The murderer was not struck down at once, or torn
to pieces, or trampled by the crowd. His name was Fraincis
Ravaillac, a fanatic, though in the calmest possession of his
senses-a man of incredible firmness of mind, who bore all
the tortures of his trial and execution without departin g from
the silence he had enjoined himself. 1No art or cruelty could
extract a confession of his confederates, if any he had.  All
he revealed was merely his hatred to the Protestant faith, and
zeal to-force the professors of it to recant on pain of death.
He had taken the habit of a lay brother in the monastery of
St. Bernard. He there was troubled with a strong inclination
to kill the king-visions pushed him  on to it.  It was evidently the -will of Heaven, for the king intended, he was told,
to umakle war on the Pope, the highest of earthly sins, inasmuch
as'" the Pope was God, and God the Pope."  WlThatever secret lies under the silence of this misguided enthusiast, the
suspicions of the Protestants throughout the world were raised
and justified by the rejoicings caused by the execrable deed.
Catholicism was saved in Germany by the death of the great
protector of the Protestants, and howls of execration were
uttered over the dead soldier in all the pulpits of Rome.
Francis Ravaillac was spoken of after his execution as an
instrument raised by divine justice; and, scarcely stoppingr at
the word martyr, many went so far as to consider him a saint.




308             LOUIS THE THIRTEENTH.         [A. D. 1610
Meanwhile the victim, after life's fitful fever, slept in ar
honoured grave among the great monarchs of his race, and in
every heart in France was written his epitaph —Henry the
Great the Father of his Country.
LOUIS THE THIRTEENTH.
Henry the Fourth was fifty-seven years of age when he
died, and left a son of nine, the heir of his throne and reputation.  A few more years of life might have enabled the
affectionate father to mould the son's mind to higher purposes, and instruct him how to carry on with firmness and
wisdom the scheme of government he had commenced.  But
Louis the Thirteenth was the spoilt child of a weak and selfish
woman. Deceitful, timid, unprincipled, and capricious, 3Mary
de ~Medicis was as injurious to France by the lessons of dependence and favouritism she gave her son, as the darker de
Mledicis of a former time by the bad instruction in violence
and tyranny she had given to Charles the Ninth and HIenry
the Third. A king perpetually in search of support, clinging
to every flattering or bullying courtier who can gain the upper
hand, entering into the cabals of his court with the keenness
and dishonesty of a candidate for place, imprints a character
of meanness and pusillanimity on his reign which may be as
hurtful to the interests of his people as the bolder vices of
more wicked and unscrupulous natures.  It is perhaps safer
for a monarch to be hated than despised. Fortunately for
Louis, or his mother, who was appointed Regent, the crop of
great princes in Europe had died out; and as we have often
in the course of this history seen a similarity of character in
the kings of the time-the Richards of England replied to by
the Philip Augustuses of France; the Henry the Eighths
matched with the Francis the Firsts-so, at this period, the
frivolous and unworthy favourites of the court of France corresponded in a remarkable degree to the wretched parasites
and intriguers of the court of James the First.' Spain, as we
have seen, had sunk into premature decrepitude under Philip




A. D. 1610.]   THE QUEEN'S FAVOURITES.             309
the Third. A feeble potentate hardly retained the Empire
firom slipping from his hand. The minor states were ruled
by persons who made no mark in the annals of the time.
Undisturbed, therefore, by foreign interference, uncontrolled
by internal government, rioting in debauchery in Paris, caballing with their confederates in the provinces —the nobles, who
had yielded a willing obedience to Henry, broke out into the
wildest excesses of personal independence, or vied with each
other in selling their support to the trembling and capricious
Regent. It might have been taken for a sudden leap backward into the feudal times.  The princes of the blood, the
chiefs of the Guises, the Duke of Nemours (of the house of
Savoy), the families of Rohan and Soubise, of Longueville
and Saint Paul, the Dukes of Bouilion, Joyeuse, and Epernon, were by no means disinclined to assert their dignities,
and gathered round them a crowd of retainers who vowed suit
and service to them with more unreserved allegiance than the
ancient homage. But when their pride was farther increased,
and their power augmented, by appointments to the great
governments of the realm-when Mayenne kinged it in the
Isle of France, with Paris as its capital, and Vendome in
Brittany, and Epernon in the Anjoumois, Montmorency in
Languedoc, and the others in like manner from Picardy to
Bezarn-no limits could be put to their insolence and encroachments.  Sully was early disgusted with the intrigues of the
court-circle, and retired to his government of Poitou; and
then the weak Italian was left to her own devices. Her own
devices extended no farther than the selection of some stronger
and firmer nature on which her feebleness could rely.
In her suite, when she came to France in 1601, was a
certain very inferior officer called Concino Concini, and with
him his wife, Eleanora Galigai. This Eleanora was the ruling
spirit in the councils of the Crown. Her influence was so
striking, that we can scarcely wonder if, in that superstitious
age, it was attributed to magic. Whatever she said was law,
and Mary de Medicis was the mere secretary to record her
wishes. Her husband was made Marquis d'Ancre, first Mlin



310        KING MARRIES ANNE OF AIUSTRIA.  [A. D. 1615.
ister of State, and finally Marshal of France.  The nobility
could submit to a good deal; and it was observed that as long
as Concini distributed among them the treasure which the late
king had collected for the expenses of the war with Spain,
their objections were mildly stated and easily withdrawn; but
when the exchequer was exhausted and a foreign menial was
made ]Marshal of France, their patriotism rose.  They retired
to their respective provinces, and prepared for an insurrection.
The threat, however, was sufficient; MIary promised to summon a States-General, and hurried her son, who had just
reached his thirteenth year, before the Parliament of lParis,
and hlad him declared of full age, and qualified to commence
his reign.  The States-General assembled in the midst of
high-raised expectations, and separated, as usual, with universal disappointment.  The discussions showed the want of
a centralising patriotism, or even of administrative adroitness.
There was no order in the debates; the nobility complained
of the privileges showered upon the people; the people, or
Third Estate, complained of the pensions settled upon the
nobility; the clergy conmplained of the non-publication of the
decrees of Trent and the toleration extended to Protestants.
The assembly was dissolved in a few months, and the name
of the States was never heard again, till the fearful days of
the great Revolution, when men looked anxiously back to get
a foundation in the past for their proposed edifice of liberty
and justice, and found nothing more to the purpose than the
archives of this long-forgotten and abortive convocation.
The leaders of the nobles had hoped to gain all their ends
by the votes of the States-General; but they did not know
the arts of Concini. or the talents of his wife.  Spain, they
thought, was to be conciliated, and the enmity of the great
Henry atonecld for, by the submission of his son.  The hand
of a Spanish princess was therefore applied for in 1615, and
Louis was espoused to Anne of Austria, the daughter of Philip
the Third, while Elizabeth of France, his sister, was sent to
acadricl as bride to the Prince of Spain.  The double marriage was expected to strengthen the faction of the Italians,




A. D. 1617.]          RICHELIEU.                    311
but the feeling of independence the ceremony had impressed
on the young king was a circumstance for which neither Concini nor Galigai was prepared.  M]ary, however, was still kept
in complete subjection, and Louis appeared also, for a time,
to have no will of his own. lHe was confined to the grounds
of the palace, and was never allowed to show himself to the
Parisians.  The Tuileries garden, where so many happy children are daily to be seen, when the trees are in full- leaf, and
the parterres filled with flowers, was the sole scene of amusement or recreation permitted to the youthful king.  A few
friends were allowed to join him in his sports; among others,
a gentleman of the name of Albert de Luynes, whose genius
does not seem to have been of a very lofty order, since it was
limited to a marvellous skill in the handling of hawks and
other birds of prey. However, the sportsman-like Albert was
the dearest friend of the desolate son of Henry. IMe]anwhile,
the great nobility had gone into open insurrection. They
formed a confederation for the Public Good-hoping by that
name to enlist the favour of the poorer classes on their side;
but Concini offered places to some, increased rank to others,
and money to all, and the public good was forgotten in the
private benefit.  Cond6, the chief of the association, went to
court-insulted the queen-threatened the favourite, and so
broke through the terms of the Treaty of Loudun, by which
the differences were arranged, that in a fit of rage and insulted
dignity, the three Italian adventurers, the queen and the
Concinis, signed a warrant, and committed Condo to the Bastile.  Cond6e was first prince of the blood, and nearest relation
of the king. All the promoters of the Public Good were in
arms at once. Troops were marshalling over all the land;
but Concini kept his nerve, He called into the councils of
the queen a quiet-looking young ecclesiastic, who had spoken
with great eloquence at the meeting of the States-General,
two years before, and had been appointed Bishop of Lu on.
His name was Armand Duplessis de Richelieu, and he attached himself to the interests of his patron and the clueen.
Something already told him perhaps that he was doomed to




312,         DEATH OF THE CONCINIS.          [A. D. 1617
be the most fatal foe the nobility had ever seen. Of this,
however, he gave no sign, but kept his eyes and ears open tc
the incidents which were evidently on the eve of appearing'
The first event seemed fatal to all his hopes.
Louis and de Luynes were in the Tuileries gardens cue
day, in 1617, and the conversation fell upon the Regent and
her favourites;-the mother was harsh and fickle —the Concinis arrogant and neglectful; Louis hated them all three,
and listened to his friend well pleased.  The friend told him
" he did not know what was the extent of his power, or how
much the people wished him to reign in reality and not in
Aame. Who were those low Italians who drove the queenmother in whatever path they chose?  Would the Parisians
rise in their defence-the Parisians who had tamely seen
Cond6, a Bourbon and a Prince, conveyed through the streets
to prison?  It needed only a little signature-all else would
follow. He should soon feel what it was to be a king."  The
little signature was given, and as Concini entered the Louvre, au
band of gentlemen surrounded him; one demanded his sword,
and while he was drawing it out in sign of his surrender, the
other~ shot him with pistols, and stabbed him in fifty places,
till he lay stark dead upon the courtyard pavement. Immediately the young king threw open a window, from which he
had seen the exploit, and went out on the balcony and thanked
his loving subjects for the great action they had performed.
He then agreed to the banishment of his mother to Blois, and
the arrest and trial of Eleanora Concini. It would have been
kinder to have put her to death along with her husband.  She
was arraigned of high crimes and misdemeanours, but principally of having obtained her power over the queen by sorcery.
C The only sorcery I employed," she proudly said, as she went
to execution,,C was the sorcery which a strong mind exercises
over a weak one."  The fierce love of blood which has always
characterised the Paris mob burst forth on this occasion;
they carried the head of the unhappy woman through the
streets upon a pole, and tore her body to pieces.
De Luynes, the skilful fitter of hawks' hoods, was no less




A. D. 1619.1   THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR.              313
skilful in profiting by the royal favour. He was made Duke,
Marshal, Constable, in a very short time, and appointed inheritor of all the wealth of his predecessors. From this time
the politics of Europe were regulated not by kings, but by
their favourites.  Lerma or Olivarez, in Spain, Buckingham
in England, and de Luynes in France, degraded the royal
dignity to such a degree that the three most despised men in
their own dominions were Philip, and James, and Louis.
Each was so absorbed in the petty cabals of his own court,
that he could take no part in the great affairs which were
shaking the world beyond his own realm. The Thirty Years'
War broke out in 1618, by which it was to be determined
whether religious liberty was to survive in any portion of
Europe; immense interests, territorial as well as theological,
were at stake.  But James was busied in composing the
quarrels of his courtiers, or writing counter-blasts against the
smoking of tobacco. Philip was sunk in gloomy and enervating superstition. Louis was led by the will of de Luynes;
and that manager of falcons, now converted into a statesman,
saw no higher duty before him than that of increasing his influence and riches. Religious jealousies also minlgled with
other causes of disturbance, and kept men's attention at home.
The Protestants were alarmed at the absorption of the state
of B6arn into the realm, and the restoration of all Church
property in that state to the Catholics. Rochelle became the
headquarters of the malcontents, and Paris replied to its
declarations of armed independence, with cries against the
toleration of any form of dissent.
After a period of doubt and indecision, with no strength
in the government and little union among the discontentedcl,
the accumulation of petty grievances, and the insolence of a
court which knew how to insult but not to govern, became
intolerable in all parts'of the country, and civil war in its
wildest form burst forth. In any other kind of contest the
personal courage of the king would have redeemed him from
the contempt of his people. In 1620 he put himself at the
head of the lords and cavaliers who were true to his person,




314           IRICHELIEU A CARDINAL.         [A. D. 1622
and carried havoc and desolation among his foes. But his
foes were his own mother and the nobility of his realm. He
showed some sparks of the paternal fire, and fought well and
bravely, but against his own subjects. Two years of siege
and skirmish showed him how impossible it was to restore
union to the nation by the mere exercise of force; and neither
hie nor his councillors had wideness of view enough to reestablish tranquillity by introducing fixed principles of action
into the government instead of trusting to the sword. The
sword could not restrain the ambition of the nobles, for the
sword was wielded by themselves.  WIhen a rebel was struck
down, the victorious royalist grew  discontented with the
smallness of his reward, and became a rebel in his turn.  All
parties soon tired of a war which led to nothing, and longed for
quieter times.  Mlany obstacles to the renewal of repose were
now moved out of the way. De Luynes, the favourite, had
died in 1621. The queen-mother, desisting from opposition,
and forgetting the fate of the Concinis, returned to the court,
and almost resumed her old authority.  Not now was her influence supported by foreign adventurers whose pre-eminence
offended the self-respect of the peerage, but by the same
quiet-mannered man whorm we saw admitted to the council
in 1616, and who had been lost to public view ever since,
either in his little bishopric of Lu9on, or in an honourable
banishment at Avignon. "The man's ambition is immeasurable," said the king, and refused some applications his mother
made in his favour.  But in 1622 the interest of Mary prevailed.  The Pope sent her favoured adviser the Cardinal's
hat, and Louis agreed to admit him to the cabinet. I-e was
only to give his opinion; but hie was to affect no state, to hold
no levees, and to behave in all respects as a simple, quiet,
humble-minded ecclesiastic, who had written dreadfully dull
books against the Protestants, and in favour of Christian Perfection.  Swelling, however, with grandeur, robed in the
mantle of his rank, and with the banner borne before him, his
eminence the Cardinal de lichelieu took his seat at the board.
In a moment there was no doubt whatever that the true man




A. D. 1628.]      SIEGE OF ROCHELLE,                315
was found. He never even consulted his colleagues, but did
everything with a high hand.  The king looked on him with
wonder, the queen-mother with a hind of fear, and the nobles,of all ranks and persuasions perceived that their master had
appeared in the land. His conduct was inexplicable to people
who did not know that the two objects of his life were, to extirpate the Protestants at home and weaken the throne of
Austria abroad.  To attain either he neglected the other for
a time, but returned to it with fresh vigour when the opportunity occurred. If he seemed for a moment to favour the
Calvinists in France, it was to enable him to present a united
front to the pretensions of the Austrian despot. If he crushed
the Hugunenots at Rochelle and elsewhere, it was to enable
him to turn with undivided power to assist their co-religion*ists in Germany.
And it was high time that the attention of France should
be directed beyond the Rhine. After six years of war, in the
year 1624 Catholicism was triumphant; the Lutheran princes
were everywhere subdued; Spain sent money to the Emperor;
England sent nothing but vain good wishes to the reformed.
In their desperation, the oppressed confederates had turned
their eyes to the far north, and. summoned to their aid Christian the Fourth, the Danish king. They little suspected that
the orthodox and tyrannical Prince of the Church, who now
governed the politics of France, and oppressed their brethren
wherever they could be found, was only waiting for an opportunity to attack their enemy in his own country, and renew
the plans of Hen-y the Fourth in opposition to the Hapsburgs.  But first the citadel of French revolt and Protestantisln was to be levelled with the ground; Rochelle was to be
restored to the Catholic faith. A great army was collected,
and the capital of the Huguenots besieged.  Richelieu was
general, engineer, prime minister, and bishop; he directed all
the operations, raised a dyke which was the admiration of all
the soldiers of the time, and shut out the fleet which England
pretended to send to the support of the beleagured town.
Having forced an entrance, he rode in beside the king at the




316              GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.           LA. D. 1631,
head of the troops in velvet and cuirass; and performed mass
in the great church in rochet and stole, in honour of the victory. Louis the Thirteenth, assured of peace and submission
in his own kingdom, led an expedition into Italy, and, after
a brilliant campaign, brought his army back by way of Languedoc. There they seized Nismes and the other towns
which had been rallying-places for the Reformers, and Richelieu hurried to the scene of action. The walls of the captured
cities were thrown down, their cannon removed, and the inhabitants expected some measure of intolerable severity, from
the bigotry of the priest andl the arrogance of the conqueror.
He issued an edict containing the greatest indulgences! He
secured them in all their rights and. privileges-freedom of
worship and equality before the law-only they were not to
hold political assemblages on pretence of religious meetings.
They might pray and preach, but they must not conspire.
This was in 1629. in the very next year Richelieu gave all
his assistance to the great Gustavus of Sweden, the Lion of
the North, who crossed the Baltic with thirty thousand men
to the aid of the Protestant cause, and the fortunes of the
Hlouse of Austria were rapidly reduced to the lowest ebb.
The active but unscrupulous Wallenstein had been displaced
by the Emperor, at the instigation of secret andl unsuspected
emissaries of the Cardinal; and there was no one able to
resist the triumphant battalions of the warrior king, who carried the Bible in his breast, and commenced all his battles
with prayer. He marched through the length and breadth of
the land, shouting the war-cries of the Old Testament, andc
considering himself a chosen instrument to overthrow the
images of Dagon and the plans of Antichrist.  Richelieu
rejoiced in the success of his schemes, and for a moment did
not perceive the change which was arising in the king's mind.
Louis grew jealous of his minister's glory, and listened to the
slanders which the queen-mother and Marillac the Treasurer,
and all the opponents of a domineering favourite, were ready
to pour into his ear.
HIe even went so far, on the 11th of November, 1631, as




A. D. 1631.] RICIIELIEU RESTORED TO FAVOUR.         317
to yield to the prayers of his mother, and order the Cardinal
into exile.  The sentence of banishment was signed, but the
king dared not look on the countenance of the man he
wronged.  He retired to hide his fears and regrets in the solitude of a little chateau he had built at Versailles.  While
there, waiting till the minister had departed from Paris, the
door opened, and the well-known face of the Cardinal met his
eyes.  There was a sudden revulsion of feeling. He remembered only the triumphs he had attained by the labours and
genius of the great ruler and politician, who now came to
throw himself at his feet, and say farewell for the last time.
Meanwhile the palace of the Luxembourg, the residence of the
queen-mother, was alive with lights and laughter.  The nobles gathered round Mary, and celebrated their victory with
uproarious rejoicing. Places were distributed among the
successful faction, governments promised, and vengeance
concerted against the adherents of the priest.  Suddenly a
chill fell upon their gaiety —the great minister was known
to be closeted with the king, and more in favour than ever.
This was called the Day of Dupes, and the unfortunate conspirators paid dearly for their momentary triumph. Miarillac
was imprisoned, his brother the Marshal executed, the queenmother sent into exile. The French courts of justice were
busily employed in trying the accused, and the axe was never
idle in carrying the judgments into effect. It was a reign of
terror directed by one man, and pressing heavily only on the
great and powerful.  Gaston, the king's brother, whom the
Cardinal had married to Mademoiselle de Montpensier by
main force, was chased from Paris; and the queen herself,
the young and handsome Anne of Austria, the favourite of the
court, and not disliked by her husband, was treated with
suspicion, her desk searched for letters, and her waitingwomen interrogated as to her correspondence.  Louis the
Thirteenth was brave in battle, but the most timid of poltroons in presence of a loftier nature than his own. Richelieu used his soldiership by employing him at the head of the
French armies, and hid his deficiences as a king by the aqui



318                MILITARY BISHOPS.           [A. D. 1631
sitions of lands and influence he added to the Crown in his
name.  The few remaining privileges of the Parliament, even
the right of protest, were taken away.  The royal power saln
no rival either in town's franchise or noble's privilege.  In
attainment of his object of elevating the throne, the pitiless
churchman gave over the loftiest heads to the block, and
scarcely spared his own brethren when they ran counter to
his plans.  He travestied, indeed, the highest officers of the
Church into the strangest shapes —making an archbishop
admiral of the fleet, and portly abbots colonels of artillery.
It was difficult to distinguish the bishop in the field from the
major of dragoons; for they all handled the sword with equal
skill as the crosier-the only distinction being that, when a
high church dignitary offended the Cardinal by backwardness
in an attack, or bad discipline in his regiment, he sent him
back to his diocese, and condemned him  to ecclesiastical
punishments.  He shot the refractory brigadier, and only
sentenced thLe military prelate to bread and water, and selfflagellation in his cell. But military prelate and refractory
brigadier knew that there was neither pity nor remorse in the
imperturbable heart of the Cardinal or the insensible bosom
of the King.  That unworthy son of the generous and affectionate Henry saw his wife insulted byan overbearing churchman, and  his brother, Gaston of Orleans, treated  with
indignities at which a  slave might have  revolted, with
no participation in the indignation either of brother or wife.
Everything was to be placed helplessly at the feet of royalty,
and queen and princes must share the common lot.  This
was the great effort of the Cardinal's life-to establish a central power, uncontrolled by lords or parliament; and the very
incompetency of the personage who profited by the success
of his endeavours, shows the depth of his sagacity and the
strength of his will. Louis gave no active aid to this creation
of an absolute monarchy.  He saw Opposition cease, and
adulation surround him, and everything attributecl to the
royal office; and was only grateful to the devoted servitor
who raised him to the unexampled height.  In the cold re



A. D. 1641.]           A REVOLT.                    319
gions of that sterile elevation he lost all the feelings of our
ordinary nature; he lost even his pride of family and his
national affections.  MIary de MIedicis had been the wife of
Henry the Great, and was mother of the king; but Richelieu,
with the full cognisance of his master, left her to the extremity of poverty and neglect at Brussels or London, and
finally at Cologne, where she died in 1641, without a reconciliation with her son.
It is useless to enter minutely into the external policy of
France under Richelieu's administration, for the great actions
of the time were performed by other nations, and all that he
did was to maintain what he conceived the balance of European power, by allowing no State, or even religion, to preponderate over all the rest.  His internal policy may be briefly
stated to consist in depressing all orders of the State in unreasoning subjection to the King.  There were revolts in
various quarters to resist this yoke, but they were quelled
with uniform  success. Once, and once only, the fate of the
Cardinal seemed finally sealed.  The Count de Soissons, a
prince of the blood, headed the discontented gentry in open
war in 1641, and established the headquarters of revolt in the
town of Sedan. The Empire and Spain came to his support
with promises and money.  Twelve thousand men were under
his orders, all influenced with rage against Richelieu, and
determined to deliver the king fromn his degrading tutelage.
Richelieu was taken unprepared, but delay would have been
ruin. He sent the Marshal Chatillon to the borders of Sedan
to watch the proceedings of the confederates, and requested.
the king to summon fresh troops and go down to the scene
of war.  While his obedient MIajesty was busied in the commission, Chatillon advanced too far.  Soissons assaulted him
near the banks of the Meuse, at a place called ]Marf6e, and
gave him a total and irremediable overthrow.  The cavalry on
the royalist side retreated at an early part of the figh]t, and
forced their way through the infantry, not without strong
suspicions of collusion with their opponents. Paris itself was
in dismay. The King and Cardinal expected to hear every




320              DEATH OF SOISSONS.          LA. D. 1641.
hour of the advance of the rebels; but no step was taken.
It was found, when the hurry of battle was over, that Soissons was among the slain. The force of the expedition was
in that one man; and the defeat was as useful to the Cardinal as a victory would have been.  The malcontents had no
leaders of sufficient rank and authority to keep the inferiors
in check; for the scaffold had thinned the ranks of the great
hereditary chiefs, and no man could take his first open move
against the Court without imminent risk to his head.  Great
men, indeed, were rising into fame, but of a totally different
character from their predecessors. Their minds were cast in
a monarchical mould from their earliest years, and they considered submission to the Crown the highest of earthly duties,
irrespective of the justice or wrongfulness of the orders it conveyed. From this time subserviency to the king became a
sign of noble birth. Feelings of patriotism, liberty, and selfrespect, were considered old-fashioned and absurd; and
Richelieu has the boast, if boast it can be called, of having
crushed out the last spark of popular independence and
patrician pride. A strange spectacle it must have presented
to foreign lands to see the most gallant nation in Europe-the
people who had dethroned, before they murdered, the last of
the Valois, and resisted Henry of Navarre-lay itself, powerless and contented, beneath the feet of a man like Louis the
Thirteenth. And at the very same time the scene was presented in England of a nation, which had submitted to
Henry the Eighth, and borne the degrading authority of
James, rise in open rebellion in defence of its rights and
liberties when they were threatened by Charles the First.
One more effort was made to shake off the trammels of
the hated Cardinal. A conspiracy was entered into to deliver
the land by the old Roman method of putting the tyrant to
death; and the curious part of the design is, that it was
formed almost in presence of the king. His favourite friend
young Cinq Mars, son of the Marshal d'Effiat, his brother
Gaston of Orleans, and his kinsman the Duke de Bouillon,
who were round his person at all hours of the clay, were the




A. D. 1042.1     DEATH OF RICHELIEU.               321
chief agents of the perilous undertaking. Others, and with
them de Thou, the son of the great French historian, entered
into the plan, but wished the assassination to be left out.
They would arrest and imprison him; but this was evidently
not enough. While Richelieu lived, no man could be safe,
though the Cardinal were in the deepest dungeon of the Bastile. Death, however, was busy with their victim, without
their aid. He was sinking under some deep but partiallyconcealed illness when the threads of the plot came into his
skilful hands. He made the last use of his strength and intelligence in unravelling and punishing the rebels, as he
called them, against the king's authority. The paltry and
perfidious Gaston was as usual penitent and pardoned, but on
Cinq Mars and de Thou the vengeance of the law and the
Cardinal had its full force. The triumphant but failing
minister reclined in a state barge upon the Rhone, towing
his prisoners behind him to certain death. On their arrival
at Lyons the process was short and fatal. The young men
were executed together, and the account of their behaviour
at the block is one of the most affecting narratives in the annals of France. Carried by slow degrees from Lyons to Paris,
the inexorable Richelieu reached his noble mansion called the
Palais Cardinal, and prepared to die with as much dignity as
he had lived.  With declarations of the virtuous aim of all
his actions, and vauntings of his exemption from personal
considerations, which it is painful to read after the perusal
of his -career, he bequeathed his princely residence to the king:
(which has therefore been known since that time as the Palais:
Royal), and ended a strange and eventful life on the 4th of
December, 1642.
What amount of vanities and weaknesses is sufficient to
diminish the effect of a really great and self-sustaining nature,.
it is impossible to say. France seems more tolerant than we
are, if not of spots and blemishes in her great men's charac —
ters, at least of absurdities and contradictions.  This fearful
Cardinal, for instance, was the vainest and most pretentious
of tenth-rate poets, and hated the first glory of the French,
21




322                HIIS CHARACTER.            [A. D. 1642.
stage, Corneille, for having written the fine tragedy of the' Cicl."  He bribed and bullied people to write against it,
and collected, paid, or frightened audiences in the private
theatre of his palace, to listen enraptured to his own amazing
bombast in the tragi-comedy of" Mirame."  In war we have
seen with what pomp he entered a hostile town. At all
times when he commanded the troops in person, he wore a
military dress, which reminded the spectators of the Knights
of the Round Table. He had steel breastplate, and cap with
long feathers; a sword at his side; and was preceded by two
pages, one carrying his helmet and the other his gloves.  But
his triumphs in war were not so dearly valued as his irresistible attractions in the eyes of the beauties of the court. A
thin, haggard, sallow-faced man-with the manners of a
sycophant or a bully-speaking a fantastic jargon, such as
was introduced in the romances from which he derived his
idea of fascinating conversation-stained at the same time
with the blood of so many victims, and terrifying wherever he
went, with the fear of the vengeance of an easily- offended
but unforgiving temper- he considered himself the most per_fect example of a gay young cavalier who ever made war on
ladies' hearts. No rank nor beauty hindered him from considering himself an acceptable wooer. He threw himself at
the feet of AMary de Medicis, the mother of his sovereign, and
of Anne of Austria, his wife. The laughter or disgust of
those ladies is said to have been the origin of his hatred to
both. A pretender in poetry, a charlatan in war, and an old
beau in love, it would have needed stronger and more satisfying qualities than this man. possessed, to have saved him in
England from unmitigated contempt.  But ridicule would
not have preserved him from the bitterer feelings which would
have been roused by his perseverance in his policy of' depressing the people and exterminating the nobles. If we can
imagine his failure in those attempts, and the survival of a
patriotic aristocracy and free people, we can imagine also
what would have been the place which Richelieu would have
held in French history. WVe can realise it more clearly to




A.D. 1643.] DEATH OF LOUIS THE THIRTEENTH.          323
ourselves, if we fancy what would be at present the position,
in our annals, of his contemporary Stafford, if his plans for
elevating the Crown at the expense of all the other Estates
had been successful.  Greater than Richelieu, far bolder in
design, and more manly in execution, more dignified in manner, with fewer personal infirmities to neutralise the colossal
magnitude of his plans and principles, the historians of an
absolute monarchy created by his genius, if under such it were
now our fortune to live, would have had no occasion to blush
for the littleness of their champion and hero. But the bold
bad man of the English Rebellion is execrated for his attempt,
while pitied for his fall.  The French Cardinal is slightly
blamed for the enormities of his guilt and the paltriness of
some of his aspirations, but is held up as the great statesman
who destroyed the liberties of a nation, and established a despotic throne upon the ruins.  The French, more than any
other nation, seem worshippers of Power, without inquiring
how it was attained, or on what foundation it rests. Provided
a sceptre be firmly held, and is feared and respected enough
by others, they do not seem to care how blood-stained its
handle may be, or how terribly it oppresses themselves.
Louis the Thirteenth survived his minister but five
months.  Conscious of his weakness, he felt miserable when
the controlling hand of the strong cardinal was withdrawn.
Cabals and parties were getting together in the very room
where he retired to die; and, wearied of life and disgusted
with power, on the 14th of May, 1643, in his forty-second
year, he closed his eyes upon a world which to him had been
a scene of bitterness since his first entrance upon the stage,
leaving the reputation of personal courage combined with a
weak understanding and callous heart.




CHAPTER XIII.
LOUIS THE FOURTEENTH.-THE MAZARIN ~MINISTRY, 1643 TO 1661.
THE natural advantages of France in compactness of territory
and richness of soil, enable her to recover more rapidly from
the effects of civil commotions than any other land.  All
through the earlier years of Louis the Thirteenth's reign,
there had been a succession of riotous disturbances, which
must have interfered with the comforts and prosperity of the
people.  Villages were burnt and chateaux overthrown;
towns were amerced in heavy fines, and estates confiscated to
the successful side. But when the steady hand of the remorseless Cardinal held all the orders of the State in unresisting quiet, the farms regained their fertility, the towns resumed their trade, new castles were built over all the country, and, best effect of all, the confiscated estates gave rise to
a new order of proprietors.  A vast mass of the soil of the
country was set free from the hereditary hold of an impoverished aristocracy, and rich merchants and the smaller tradesmen of the local centres of industry, became deeply interested in the efficacy of the public law and the improvement of
their newly-acquired domains. France has had three aristocracies in the course of her annals from the Crusades to Louis
the Fourteenth. After the time of Louis the Eleventh, the
representatives of the first or old feudal aristocracy, the descendants of the men who were in reality the king's peers,
and not his actual subjects, were few and far between. They
were left like pillars in an almost universal inundation, and were
finally sapped and overthrown by the force of the prevailing




A. D. 1643.]        THE NOBILITY.                  325
tide. These were the holders of vast principalities, who
maintained a kind of royal state in their own possessions,
and kept high courts of judicature over life and limb in the
whole extent of their hereditary fiefs. In the long English
wars, from Cregy to Agincourt, the great body of them disappeared, and only here and there a Great Vassal was to be
seen, distinguished in nothing from the other nobles except in
the loftiness of his titles and the reverence that still clung
to the sound of his historic name.  The second aristocracy arose among the descendants of the survivors of the
English and Italian wars.  They claimed their rank, not as
coming down to them from the tenure of almost independent
counties and dukedoms, but as proprietors of ancestral lands,
to which originally subordinate rights and duties had been
attached. Mixed with these, we saw the Noblesse of the
Robe, as the great law-officers were called, who constituted a
prcrallel but not identical nobility with their lay competitors;
and later still, enriched tax-gatherers and others who had
fattened on the royal favour, ascended above their original
position, by the purchase of what were recognised as ennobling estates, and formed indeed so numerous a portion of the
acknowledged nobility, that an edict was passed to deprive
them of a pre-eminence derived solely from the acquisition of
those lands. The third aristocracy was now about to make
its appearance, the creation of court favour and badge of personal or official service-possessors of a nominal rank without
any corresponding duty-a body selected for ornament, and
not for use-and incorporating with itself, not only the marquis and viscount, fresh from the mint of a minister or favourite, but the highest names in France.
The aristocracy of the sword and of ancient birth had
itself to blame for this degradation.  Before any of the great
alterations in  manners or government which give a new
character to human affairs, there seems always some strange
relaxation of morals, or atrocity of conduct, which makes
society anxious for the change. The unfortunate custom in
France, which made all the members of a family as noble as




326               POOR CAVALIERS.             rA. D. 1643.
its chief, so that a simple viscount with ten stalwart and penniless sons gave ten stalwart and penniless viscounts to the
aristocracy of his country, had filled the whole land with a
race of men proud of their origin, filled with reckless courage,
careless of life, and despising all the honest means of employment by which their fortunes might have been improved.
Mounted on a sorry horse, and begirt with a sword of good
steel, the young cavalier made his way from the miserable
castle on a rock, where his noble father tried in vain to keep
up the appearance of daily dinners, and wondered how in the
world all his remaining sons and daughters were to be clothed
and fedl, and made his way to Paris. There he pushed his
fortune, fighting, bullying, gambling, and was probably
stabbed by some drunken companion and flung into the Seine.
If he was lucky or adroit enough, he stabbed his drunken
friend and pushed him into the stream, and after a few months
of suing and importunity, obtained a saddle in the king's
guards, or a pair of boots in the musqueteers.  At this time
it came out that in twenty years of the reign of Louis the
Thirteenth there had been eight thousand fatal duels in different parts of the realm. Out of the duels which were daily
carried on, four hundred in each year had ended in the death
of one of the combatants. When the fiercest of English wars is
shaking every heart in the kingdom, there would be wailing
and misery in every house if it were reported that four hundred officers had been killed in a year. Yet these young desperadoes were all of officer's rank, and the quarrel in which
they fell was probably either dishonourable or contemptible.
1Men fought and killed each other for a word or a look, or a
fashion of dress, or the mere sake of killing.  Where morality
is loosened to the extent of a disregard of life, we may be sure
the general behaviour in other respects is equally to be deplored. The rule holds good in the present instance in
France. There was great, and almost universal, depravity in
the conduct of high and low. Vice and sensuality found refuge and protection even in the presence of princesses and
queens. People residing in remote places heard only of the




A. D. 1643.]   3MANNERS OF THE GREAT.                327
gorgeous license in which the great and powerful lived.  They
knew them only during their visits to their ancestral homes
as worn-out debauchees from the great city, who brought the
profligacy of the purlieus of the Louvre in the peaceful cottages of the peasantry on their estates.  It was, indeed, so
much the fashion to be wicked, that a gentleman was hindered
from the practice of his Christian or social duties by the fear
of ridicule.  The life of man, therefore, and the honour of
woman, were held equally cheap; and the blinded, rash, and
self-indulgent nobility laid the foundation, in contempt of the
feelings of its inferiors and neglect of their interests, for the
terrible retribution which even now at intervals might be
seen ready to take its course.  Worst feature of all, the
clergy, the appointed guardians of religion and morality, were
neither religious nor moral.  They might be proud of their
brother Rlichelieu's power and intellect, and of the achievements of his naval archbishops and fighting prelates, but they
could not be edified by the Christian example either of cardinal or bishop.  Abb6es and confessors began already the caieer of drawing-room trifling, and avowed disregard of the
decencies of their position, which characterised the reign we
are now entering upon, and embittered the people against
the Church and Christianity itself more than any writings of
philosophers or essays of unbelievers.
The country, however, in spite of these depressing circumstances, had grown, as we have already said, in wealth and
comfort.  There was a good deal of trade in the Atlantic and
lMediterranean ports.  Henry the Fourth and Richelieu had
improved the internal communications, and already planned
the Canal of Languedoc, which was to unite the two seas.
The highways were well paved. and guarded, to the admiration of all other nations.  The Gallic genius had burst forth
in all the arts and embellishments of life. Architecture was
pouring fourth its triumphs both in town and country.  The
drama had sprung full-grown into existence with the first
masterpieces of Corneille.  The conversations of' lords and
ladies bright," though tinged with the ribaldry and immorality




328              CARDINAL AIAZARIN.          [A. D. 16,13
of the time, were models of elegance and ease; the manners
were courtly and refined; and Louis the Fourteenth was
about to assume the nominal kingship-for he was not yet
five years old-of a kingdom which the virtues had deserted,
and which only the graces and accomplishments were left to
guard and beautify.
The principles of Cardinal Richelieu were so securely
planted that nothing could eradicate them from the soil.
Lile some shrubs that flourish best in tempestuous situations, the storms which burst over France seemed only to fix
their roots deeper. The efforts to shake off the yoke he had
laid upon the land appeared vigorous and sincere; but the
whole policy of his life had been to frivolise and debase the
minds of the new generation; and we shall see the spectacle
of a great and powerful party, fighting for the highest and
holiest of causes, behaving like the mimic heroes of the stage;
changing their dresses and characters with every change of
scene; and at last, convinced, apparently, of the unreality
of their endeavours, and hastening to sheathe their imitation
swords, and take off their tinfoil helmets, to assume the
livery and decorations of a master as vain and theatrical as
themselves.
Louis the Fourteenth was left in the guardianship of his
mother, who was also appointed " regent, to be assisted by a
council wherein questions were to be decided by a plurality
of votes;" and already the grandeur of the king's name
gave an overwhelming authority to whatever party had the
custody of his person. Anne of Austria summoned to her
aid, not a council of the nobles or magistrates of France, as
had been provided by her husband's will, but a certain Italian of the name of Mazarin, whom Richelieu had distinguishecl with his favour, and nominated for the scarlet hat in
1641.  Cardinal Mazarin was the guide and master, and
finally the unacknowledged husband, of the weak and selfwilled queen. He applied to the Parliament of Paris to
cancel the testament of Louis the Thirteenth, and to nominate Anne " regent with unlimited powers."  In reading the




A. D. 1643.]           D ENGHIEN.                  329
history of France, we are very apt to be led astray by a confusion of names. When we speak, for instarce, of a parliament, we are disposed to think of a body of representatives
selected by the nation, and endowed with authority to make
and modify the laws. But in France a parliament meant
nothing of the kind. It was merely the court of justice under its president and other officers, whose utmost right extended only to make respectful remonstrance when any new
tax was about to be imposed. Its dignities were not even
attained by proficiency in the law; they were to be had by
purchase, and, once bought, they became hereditary.  It was
only a blind playing with a great name, or a profound ignorance of the jurisdiction of such a society, which tempted the
alien minister to apply to a parliament like this for the alteration of a form of government. But there was danger
even in this application for a useless sanction. The lawyers
who presided in that court perhaps cast their eyes across the
Channel, where the great struggle between Charles and his
parliament was at its height.  They might fancy some resemblance between their own position and that of the stormy
assemblage at Westminster, which claimed an equal authority with the king. Happy, at all events, to be admitted to
a public participation in national concerns of so much importance, they gave a willing consent to all the Cardinal demanded.  The council was abolished, the queen established
in absolute governance, and the Parliament of Paris had its
first taste of power.
The regency of Anne began with internal trouble and
foreign glory; for almost at the same time that the parliament transgressed its limits in Paris, the young Duke d'Enghien, better known as the Great Conde, won a brilliant
victory over the Spanish forces at IRocroy. Prodigies were
told of the vigour and skill of this youthful commander. He
was but twenty-one years of age, and was opposed to the old
est and wisest generals of Spain; but he made all his dispositions as if by the inspiration of a natural genius, and
dashed on with such intrepidity, that in one tremendous




330             HIS THREE VICTORIES.         LA. D.: 1645.
charge he broke and scattered for ever the famous Spanish
infantry, which had so long been the terror of other armies.
The Viscount of Turenne, whose name is still included in
the list of generals of the first class, was hard pushed by the
superior forces of the Bavarians in the defiles of Switzerland.
Condcl hurriedcl across the Rhine, and, accomplishing a junction with Turenne, poured their united power upon the enemy. Three days the combat lasted, and on one occasion the
impetuous Conde cast his baton of command among the enemy and retrieved it sword in hand. At last his perseverance
had its reward, and another great victory was written on the
standards of France with the name of Friburg.  The Duke
of Orleans in the mean time had driven the Spaniards backward on the Scheldt; the ground was therefore prepared for
the campaign of the following year, and Turenne was again
at the head of the French army. But again Turenne met
with a resistance he could not overcome, and the conqueror
of Rocroy and Friburg flew to his assistance.  The rival
friends combined their forces at Nordlingen, a town in Bava.ria, and inflicted a memorable defeat on the Imperialists on
the same spot which had seen the overthrow of the Protestant princes eleven years before. These three successes were
enough to establish the fame of a lifetime; and henceforth
Cond6's battle-cry consisted only of the words, " Remember
Rocroy, and Friburg, and Nordlingen!"  The cry, however,
was not always successful, for in 1647 he was repulsed from
the siege of Lerida, and left the province of Catalonia in
possession of the Spanish kings. In this same year the famous insurrection of Naples took place, of which the hero
was a poor fisherman of the name of Thomas Agnelo-which
we have corrupted into Masaniello-and caused a great diversion in favour of the French in their contest with Philip.
For though the reign of the usurping fisherman was not long,
it led to an invitation, addressed by the people, to the Duke
of Guise, the grandson of Balafre, who, with all the pride,
and ambition of his family, hurried off to avail himself of
their offer of the presidency of the Neapolitan republic.




A. D. 1648.]    PEACE OF WESTPHALIA.               331
But Guise was not the sort of man either to fouLrd or retain
authority. His haughtiness offended his friends; he had little money and few troops; and a new demagogue rose uF
among the people.  This was a butcher of the name of Annessa, who soon disgusted the population by his cruelties, and
then surrendered the city to the Spaniards.  Those ungrateful conquerors rewarded him by hanging him on the spot, and
carried off the Duke of Guise as their prisoner into Spain.
This, however, was but a slight drawback to the military fame
of France.  Cond6 gained another great battle at Lens, in
the neighbourhoodl of Calais, to which the Archduke Leopold
had advanced; the Marshal de la Meilleraie had sailed with
a powerful fleet, and seized some harbours on the coast of
Tuscany; and, in consequence of these exertions, the terms
of the Peace of Munster, in 1648, which put an end to the
Thirty Years' War, and established the liberties of Protestantism in the larger part of Germany, were very favourable
lo the French. They obtained possession of the higher and
lower Alsace (with the exception of the town of Strasburg,
which was not added till a later date), and some places both
in Germany and Italy, which they did not long retain. They
forced the Emperor also to agree to a free navigation of the
Rhine, and to bind himself to build no fortress on the right
or German bank.  The contest, however, with Spain still
lingered on; but affairs of more importance were occurring
at home, and we must og  back, from  international transactions and incidents on a great scale, to the tricks and troubles of the Court and people which ended in civil war.
The first disagreement of course, took place about a tax.
Patriotism  and loyalty can stand very severe trials, but generally fail when they press too heavily on the pocket.  The
Parliament of Paris, which had stretched its authority so far
as to establish the queen and Mazarin in their supremacy,
now came forward as the guardian of the people's interest,
and protested against five edicts which had gone forth for the
increase of the national payments. But it was a different
thing to protest against a dead king's will and a living cardi



332                 THE PAULETTE.            [A. D. 1648
nal's proclamations.  The Cardinal led the young Louis, now
ten years old, to what is called a Bed of Justice-a solemn
assemblage of all the courts of law and finance, and the nobles of the realm-wherein it was illegal to offer any opposition to the royal mandate openly expressed. Louis sat in
state, and uttered the words " I wish it," and the lips of the
parliament were closed.
Revenge followed rapidly on triumph. The offices of the
courts of law, of the accounts, and of the aids as they were
called-the magistratures of the country towns, and the cdignities of the provincial assemblies-were all become freeholds,
transmissible like other property, subject to the formal renewal
of their duration, which was pronounced every ninth year.
This right of hereditary tenure was called the Paulette, because it was first established by a man of the name of Paulet,
and was so far beneficial to the exchequer that the holders of
office paid a sixtieth of their income to the State every year.
The time had now arrived for the renewal of the Paulette,
for nine years had elapsed, and the king's grace was looked
on as a matter of right. Mazarin determined to try the question, and would only continue the tenure of office in all the
courts of the kingdom on payment of four years' income of
each. From this he excepted the Parliament of Paris, perhaps with the object of making it hateful to the other parliaments, perhaps with the mean idea of buying off its opposition by sparing its money. But the parliament saw the snare,
or scorned the bride; and a Resolution of Union, which was
published as its reply, took away the hope which the minister
had entertained of producing discord between the different
courts. Anne was alarmed, and yielded to the remonstrances of
the union delegates, and allowed them to propose some measures of reform. The reforms they proposed were of the most
universal kind. From justice, finance, police, commerce, pay
of the troops, and royal domains, down to the management of
the private household, nothing escaped those lynx-eyed purifiers in a session of only ten days. The citizens were amazed
and gratified beyond measure. Witty lampoons, sparkling




A. D. 1648.]         THE FRONDE.                   333
sayings, epigram and ballad, circled though the town. Young
barristers, who were only in want of clients and fees, crowded
the streets and squares with their inflammatory harangues,
and gave their legal opinions for nothing. They were called
Protectors of the People by the mob, and Disturbers of the
Peace by the authorities. As little boys used to be hustled
off by the police when they were engaged in mimic fights with
their slings, and returned in greater force than ever when the
sergeant had withdrawn, the combat between court and city
swayed to alternate sides; and some ingenious person therefore
called the reformers the Slingers, or Frondeurs. The name
was taken up at once-everything was the Fronde. Ladies'
dresses were ornamented with slings in embroidery; their
lockets were in the form of a sling; and perhaps the bonnets
which we see in the prints of the period, with the lappets
brought over the ears, and tied with long coloured ribbons
under the chin, owe their fashion to the same design.
The Fronde was fairly established before the queen and
3Mazarin were aware of its existence. Its objects ostensibly
were to diminish taxation and to correct abuses; its more
important aims were to supplant the foreign minister and
divide his spoils among its leaders. The queen looked for a
long time in vain to discover who its leaders could be. She
suspected everybody-the Duke of Vendome, and the Duke
of Beaufort, his son, among the first; but their papers, which
she seized, showed nothing, and she was forced to withdraw
her accusations. There was a young ecclesiastic at that time,
of the name of John Francis Paul de Gondi, of the family of
de Retz, who rose into great favour with the serious and religious portions of the public. He was nephew of the Archbishop of Paris, and was himself Archbishop of Corinth; but
as his flock in that metropolitan city were schismatic (except
those who had turned Turks), he had leisure to assist his uncle in his high office, and was appointed his coadjutor and
successor. He preached at all the churches, and held visitations at the monasteries, and catechised the young, and consulted the aged clergy on the management of the diocese




334              BROUSSEL ARRESTED.          [A. D. 1648.
When he rode though the streets, he was saluted with cheers
and blessings, and the orators of the Fronde held him up as the
pattern of all the Christian virtues. At night he put off his
episcopal robes, disguised himself as a trooper or tradesman,
and attended the meetings of the discontented. In a short
time he had distributed seven or eight thousand pounds ih
stirring up the passions of the people, and was in daily expectation of being summoned by his patroness the queen to give
his influence in quelling them.  The queen at last suspected
the worthy archbishop of being not quite the simple and selfdenying individual he appeared.  She had him watched and
followed, and Mazarin determined to strike the blow.
A vast assemblage crowded the spaces of Notre Dame,
to celebrate a Te Deum for the great victory of Lens, of which
the young Cond6 had just sent home the news. When the
multitude were dispersing, a dash was made upon three of
the obnoxious councillors who had animated the discussions
of the Fronde. Two of the intended persons escaped, but a
surly, burly demagogue, of the name of Broussel, was tracked
to his house in the mechanics' quarter of Paris, and arrested
by an armed force. His daughter flung open an upper window, and called " Rescue, rescue!"  Thousands gathered at
the cry, pressed in upon the carriage into which he had been
hurried, and upset it. They then threw furniture in the way
of another vehicle into which the prisoner was removed, and
stopped its farther progress. All the streets were filled with
excited spectators. "Broussel and Liberty!" sounded from
every throat; and though the man was safely lodged in prison,
the uproar did not cease. The archbishop hurried to the
palace.  Consternation had already given way to insolence.
The courtiers gibed and jested on the impatience of the people, and there was a great amount of wit expended on the
looks and appearance and manner of poor old Broussel, who
was eighty years of age, and whose daughter was past her
prime.  But de la Meilleraie, a marshal of approved courage,
came in and said how serious the matter looked.  Gondi,
who entered at the same time, whispered to the queen, " 3ad



A. D. 1649.]    DAY OF THE BARRICADES.             335
ame, it is a revolt!"  "It is a revolt!" she replied in an angry
tone; " to imagine a revolt possible!"  Gondi bowed and was
silent. Meanwhile Paris was rising fast. The jokes ceasedcl;
there was a talk of pardoning Broussel, and Gondi was empowered to promise his release if the multitude would disperse.
He went to the chief seat of the commotion,:and was in great
danger before he was recognised. A man was mortally wounded by his escort, and the shouts and threatenings were appalling. Gondi jumped down to where the sufferer lay, administered the last rites of the church, and was instantly known
as the Coadjutor, the friend of the poor, the guardian of the
city.  He led back forty thousand quieted and submissive
men -to the windows of the Louvre. Anne was less pleased
at the pacification of the riot than pained at the influence
of the archbishop.  She frowned upon him, sneered at him,
menaced him; and the soul of the churchman was vexed,
but not subdued. This was called the Day of the Barricades,
and reminded the historic student of the troubles of the Orleanists and Armagnacs, of the Huguenots and the League.
The Court was beaten in spite of its haughty language.
Broussel was set free, and, boiling with wrath and disappointment, the queen left Paris, and carried her son to St. Germains.
The Cardinal had no peaceable means left to resist the victorious Fronde, and the warrior Condcl was summoned to bring
his glory and his sword in support of the Mazarins. But the
French are the last people in the world to yield to personal
intimidation. They may obey a tyrannical government, whether of one or of many; but though politically submissive, they
are personally brave, and the sight of a hot-blooded, haughtyvoiced soldier, vowing vengeance on the disaffected, called
forth a corresponding haughtiness on the other side. The
Prince of Conti was Cond6's brother, and could not submit to
his arrogant pretensions. He joined the Fronde. The Duke
of Vend6me, the Duke of Nemours, the Duke of Bouillon,
and in a short time the heroic general the Viscount Turenne,
followed the example. Gondi was indefatigable in keeping
up the agitation in the capital; and the dazzled Parisians de



336                 THE FACTIONS.            [A. D. 1649
voted themselves to the cause of so rpany princes, and gathered
all day long round the windows and balconies of the town-hall,
where the two most beautiful women in France-the real
chiefs and supports of the insurrection-the Duchesses of
Longueville and de Bouillon, addressed them in exciting little
speeches, or, at all events, rained on them their sweetest nods
and smiles. The queen banished the courts of justice-the
courts of justice banished Mazarin; Conde collected troops in
defence of the minister, and Conti was declared " lieutenantgeneral of the kingdom, under the orders of parliament." The
queen's faction had secured the adhesion of de Grammot, de
Chatillon, and all the personal hangers-on of the profligate
court. Other beauties contested the palm in policy and conquest
with the celebrities of the Fronde, and courtship and admiration had a great deal more to do with the proceedings on both
sides than patriotism or conviction. The contest was a shame
from the beginning. Conti did not care more for the Parliament than Conde did for the Cardinal.  A few skirmishes
were fought more for show, than use. Both parties celebrated
the result in little songs or vaudevilles, and nobody was either
better or worse. But the more serious spirits of the Fronde
desired something more decisive, and made overtures to Spain.
The sense of honour, however, awoke in the reasonable members of the faction at the prospect of a foreign enemy being
appealed to in their cause; and Matthew Mole, a most honoured name for several generations in the legal annals of
France, brought about an accommodation to prevent so great
a scandal. Concessions were made on both sides. The parliament was reinstated in Paris, and Mazarin restored to power. The saloons of the beautiful duchesses were crowded with
the heroes of both the camps, and the cry of " Broussel and
Liberty! " was the laughing-stock of all the drawing-rooms
in Paris. Louis the Fourteenth was about eleven years old,
and never forgot the discomforts and alarm  of his seven
month's retreat at St. Germains.  Fronde and Mazarin,
princes and people, parliament and cabinet, were equally disgusting in the boy's eyes; and he only longed for the moment




A. D. 1650.]       RIOTS IN PARIS.                 337
when he could trample on them all. If he had never at an?
time been so utterly powerless, he perhaps would never have
been so ambitious of power.
Gondi was at his old arts again —preaching in public, and
conspiring in the dark.  Condcl became intolerable for pride
and arrogance; he despised the Cardinal and insulted the
Queen: his retainers fell off from his side, and the Graces of
the Froncle spread disaffection among all the young cavaliers
of his party. The mob continued true to its idols —the wily,
double-faced, unprincipled Archbishop, and the Duke of Beaufort. This was the handsomest man of his time-gay, dissipated, easy-mannered, liberal of his money, and still more of
his smiles and speeches; and above all, endeared to the populace as grandson of Henry the Fourth, to whom he bore a
striking resemblance in manner and dress.
The rapid evolution of stratagem and plot which distinguished this period, is perhaps best shown by an incident,
frivolous in itself, but from which serious consequences flowed.
Some of the lower partisans of the Fronde determined to raise
the popular indignation against the friends of the Queen and
Cardinal; and a certain syndic of one of the trades, of the
name of Joly, was fixed upon to fire the train. His clothes
were put upon a wooden figure of his height and size, and a
marksman put a bullet though the sleeve at the upper part
of the arm. Joly marked himself with some scratches and
blue paint at the exact spot where the hole would fit, and
took his seat next day in his carriage, in his wounded coat.
The marksman aimed at the carriage with an unloaded musket, and disappeared in the crowd. There was, of course,
great uproar; and shouts of execration, begun by the Frondeurs, were uttered against the Court. On the same evening
the opposite party had determined on a similar trick. The
Prince of Conde was, or appeared to be, fired at in his carriage, and equally violent accusations were made against the
Fronde.  Condcl was irritated to the last degree, and accused
of premeditated murder the holy and charitable Coadjutor,
and the merry, jovial, gallant-hearted Duke of Beaufort..
22




338          ALL THE CHIEFS ARRESTED,    [A. D. 1650.
They appealed to the parliament, which acquitted them at
once. He then carried his plaint to the queen, but the queen
was in no humour to listen to his demands: he had offended
her by his overbearing obstinacy. - And the Italian cardinal
glowed with a hatred which would have stopped at nothing
for its gratification: he laughed and jested, or flattered and
soothed, the object of his wrath. He turned the Archbishop
of Corinth into ridicule when Cond6 blamed him for his duplicity.  " If I catch him," said the Cardinal, " in the disguise you speak of-in his feathered hat, red cloak, and military boots-I will get a sight of him for your highness; " and
they roared at the idea of discovering the intriguer in sc
unfitting an apparel.  But one night, in the winter of 1650,
disguised beyond the reach of detection, and guarded by a
passport from the Cardinal himself, the Archbishop of Corinth was admitted by a secret door into the Regent's room
at the Palais Royal, and deep conference was held between
the two. In a few days afterwards it was announced in Paris
that the Prince of Cond6 was arrested, and sent close prisoner
to Vincennes, along with his brother the Prince of Conti, and
his brother-in-law the Duke of Longueville.  All day long the
populace shouted before the gates of the archiepiscopal palace,
and Gondi was at the summit of his ambition. Pleasanter to
him was the triumph that it had been obtained, in a great
measure, by a deception which a dramatic author would
scarcely introduce in a comedy. Anne had obtained from
Conde an order for the seizure and detention of three or four
persons whose names were left in blank; and, on the authority of his own signature, the hero of Rocroy was led quietly
down a back stair and given over in custody to the police.
The ground, however, was now clear for farther effort, for the
brother leaders of the Fronde and of the Mazarins were both
in confinement; and the husband also of the fascinating politician who had lately begun to scatter her blandishments
equally upon all, was kept as a pledge of her sincerity to the
old cause.  Others now rapidly rose to the surface who had
not been heard of before. Cond6's wife was a niece of Rich



A. D. 1651.]   AND RELEASED AGAIN.                 339
elieu, and inherited her uncle's love of power. She presented
herself in Borcleaux, and roused the population to arms
against the tyranny of the Crown. But Mazarin led the
queen and the young king against the city, and it yielded to
its sovereign.  He also obtained the victory in a combat
against Turenne, who had entered the service of Spain and
fired upon the fleur-de-lis. But with the momentary success
of the Cardinal's cause rose his pretensions and demands;
and the Fronde, alarmed at his recovered authority, changed
its tactics, as a clown in a pantomime changes his clothes.
It demanded the trial or liberation of the prisoners it had
helped to send to Vincennes, without delay, and M azarin removed them for safe custody to Havre. It then pronounced
sentence of banishment, by the voice of the Parliament, on
the obnoxious minister, and ordered him to quit the kingdom
within fifteen days. The town militia kept watch and ward
over the queen, by command of the Coadjutor, and hindered
her flight to join the favourite.  She could offer no further
resistance to those who called themselves the friends of Condcl,
but who were the very same persons who had fought him in
the field a few months before. Orders were given to set the
captives at liberty. Mazarin himself communicated the news
of their freedom in person, and, with great acclamations, and
bonfires, and firing of guns, Cond6 made his triumphal entry
into the city. He was now master of the situation, and was
equally courted by the two other parties into which the State
was divided-the Queen's, which was supported by the Dulke
de Bouillon and the now repentant and pardoned Turenne —
and the Fronde, which hadl fallen into the guidance of the
Duke of Orleans, uncle of the king, the Coadjutor, and the
Duchess of Chevreuse. His own was called " the Prince's,"
and comprised the Duke of Rochefoucauld and other personal
friends and military admirers.  The old influence began to
work. The Cardinal, from his place of retirement (for he had
thought it safest to betake himself to Cologne), governed the
queen with as absolute a sway as ever, and recommended her,
as a stroke of policy which would silence all the parties, to




340        GONDI MADE CARDINAL (DE RETZ). [A. D. 1651
take the king to a Bed of Justice, and make him declare his
majority. But the majority of a boy of twelve is scarcely more
legal than real; and CondS, perceiving the object of the move,
prepared for war. In a moment we hear of towns besieged and
dances attended, fights in the field and masquerade balls in the
city, as if the two sorts of operations were of equal importance. In the midst of all, we see the plotting, lying, fawning, bullying Archbishop of Corinth rejoicing, like a bird of
ill omen, in the storm he had created, and believing that civil
commotion was the ground on which his talents had the greatest room for display. Ranlk, beauty, youth, and accomplishments, were all ranged on one side or the other, and with
shameless immodesty sacrificed themselves to win over the
wavering chiefs. The Duchess of Chatillon, the PrincessPalatine, the Duchess of Longueville, Madame de 3M.onbazon,
trafficked with their fascinations, and made what now is called political capital out of their charms and characters. Anne
of Austria herself displayed all the attractions her age had
left her, and occasionally won over an enemy by pretending
to admire his person or his wit. Gaston of Orleans was the
weak puppet with which all parties played alike, but he relied
on the Coadjutor, who had at this time (1651) been created
a cardinal by Pope Innocent the Tenth, for the purpose of
opposing him to Mazarin, whom his Holiness hated with very
unholy hate; and all the arts of that unscrupulous politician
were required to keep up even an apparent agreement between
the two chief enemies of the Court. Gaston feared Condcle
and Cond6 despised Gaston; yet both were indispensable to
the Fronde. When hostilities broke out on a large scale,
Turenne, the same who had deserted to Spain and fought
against the queen, took command of the royal army; and
Conde was proud of an opportunity of measuring himself with
his rival. The gallantry of the French was now regulated
by the two best generals in Europe. When Turenne was
looking one day at the movements of some troops he had
thrown into disorder, he perceived a change in their position
that pleased his professional eye, though contrary to his inter



A. D. 1652.]     TURENNE AND CONDE.                 341l
ests.  "The Prince has arrived," he said, and withdrew to
make farther preparations.  The tendency of both parties
was to hold themselves in the neighbourhood of Paris.  The
chiefs of the Fronde hurried into the city, to receive the congratulations due to their exploits from the fair politicians who
had won them to their cause.  The queen also established
her headquarters near the capital, to be ready for any turn
of popular sentiment in her favour, and to hear the reports of
her spies on the proceedings of her enemies.  She knew what
dances were to be given, and who were to attend the assemblies of the duchesses of the Fronde.  On one occasion, when
Turenne knew that half the officers of Conde's army were
engaged to a brilliant fte at the Duchess of Monbazon's, he
made an attack on the enemy's camp, and was only repulsed
by the steadiness of some old soldiers, who gave time for reinforcements to arrive.  But the crisis was at hand; for each
party began to be suspicious of the other's gaining over its
supporters —Mazarin lavishing promises of place and money,
and the Duchess of Chatillon, invested with full powers bV
Condcl, appearing in the opposite camp as the most irresisti-,
ble ambassador that ever was seen.
Turenne held his force well together on the plain of Grenelle. His rival was on the other side of the Seine, at St.
Cloud. It was necessary for Conde to relinquish that position
when he heard of a great increase of the royalist troops, and
he determined to take post at Charenton, on the east of Paris;
but how to reach that safe position was the point of difficulty.
He resolved at last to cross the bridge at St. Cloud, skirt the
Bois de Boulogne, and, keeping outside of the barriers, but
under protection of their guns, get round by the north;
and elude the army of Turenne.  In this he nearly succeeded, but Turenne was not altogether deceived.  By the
time the retreating  army had reached the gate of St.
Antoine, the cavalry of the royalists were launched upon
its rear-guard by Turenne in person, and Conde saw there
was no alternative left but to fight to thelast extremity.
Gaston had retired and locked himself in the saf6 obscurity




342            BATTLE OF ST. ANTOINE.       [A. D. 1652.
of the Luxembourg. The Cardinal de Retz was engaged in
theological studies at the archbishopric, but occasionally sent
messengers to Orleans to tell him on no account to open the
gates to the outnumbered Condcl. If Conde were got rid of,
argued the prince of the Church, there would be nobody to
stand between me and either the absolute command of the
Duke of Orleans or the favour of the queen. The citizens
ranged themselves on the walls; the king was placed by
Turenne on an elevation at Charonne, where he could see the
impending engagement in security, and, after a pause for the
formation of ranks, the great struggle began. French gentlemen dashedl, in opposing battalions, against their countrymen
and ancient comrades. Turenne was calm and resolute; Condcd
felt the old flame of Rocroy and Nordlingen firing his blood,
and fought like the boldest of his dragoons. Splendidly dressecd ladies waved signals to their champions and lovers below,
and the streets became alive with shouting and armed citizens, who desired to be let out to the aid of their defenders,
and could not see in cold blood the slaughter of their friends.
Thousands went to the Luxembourg to beseech Gaston to
open the gates of the city for the reception of the wounded
and protection of the overmatched. For a long time he resisted, and only when the grace of the action was lost by his delay, granted the request. Long trains of wounded and dying
young men began to be carried in; the groans and blood were
horrible to hear and see; and the women of all ranks and
ages were frantic with sympathy and grief. Condel himself
came for a moment within the gate; his sword was in his
hand; his face was flushed with exertion; his garments dripping with gore. He threw himself on a chair, and burst into
tears. "I have lost all my friends," he said, " the gallant
young hearts that loved me." " No, they are only wounded,"
said his cousin, the Princess of Orleans; "' they will recover
and love you still." Conde sprang up at the good news, and
rushed back into the fight. At the head of all his capable
horse, he made one desperate long-continued charge, and
drove the enemy backward for a mile. In the mean time the




A. D. 1653.]     RETURN OF MAZARIN.                343
gates were opened wide, and, file after file, the weary soldiers
marched into the city; and, dashing homeward after his successful charge, Conde and his squadrons galloped in the last 
but when the ponderous bars were once more put across the
portals, it was felt that the combatants indeed were saved, but
that the Fronde was destroyed. The Princess of Orleans, as
if to render reconciliation impossible, ordered the cannon of the
Bastile to be fired upon the royal army; and Louis the Fourteenth had been present at his first battle.
Quarrels soon arose between the townsmen and their military guests.  Taxes were oppressively raised, and shops were
pillaged; royal offers of clemency and peace, on the other
hand, began to be stuck up on walls and public places, and
the fear of anarchy was an irresistible argument in favour of
despotism and order. Condcl saw how affairs were going, and
retired to the Netherlands. It was not long before it, was
known, with national humiliation, that the best soldier of
France, a prince of the blood and protector of the people, had
followed the recent example of his conqueror, and sold his
services to Spain. The king made his triumphal entry into
Paris, accompanied by his mother and Turenne.  HIe convoked the courts, and received them  into favour, "provided
they returned within the limits of their duties, and abstained
from interfering with the government."  Gaston was sent into
honourable exile, to his castle in the beautiful town of Blois,
and the Cardinal-archbishop, the evil spirit of the Fronde,
was received with apparent cordiality, and began to entertain
hopes of supplanting his rival; but when he had fallen into
disrepute with the citizens, he was quietly carried off to Vincennes, and left to meditate on his plots and schemings within the bars of his apartment.  The Parisians were now so
changed from what they had been, that they received their
old enemy, the Cardinal Mazarin, with demonstrations of delight, when he made his solemn entry into the repentant city
with Louis as an attendant at his side.
A struggle began between Conde and Turenne, which
raised the military reputation of both to the highest point.




344           TREATY OF TIIE PYRENEES.    [A. D. 1654
Turenne, perhaps because his conscience told him he was now
on the right side, fought with more than his ordinary vigour
against the degenerate Bourbon who commanded the enemies
of his country. He retook the cities and fortresses which
Condcl  had seized at the commencement of the campaign.
The Spanish forces were gradually driven back, and the warrior prince must have had strange misgivings when he retaliatecl on the successes of Turenne, by capturing the town of
Rocroy: the first victory which made him famous was won
on the same spot; and perhaps to some recollections connectedl with that happier time is owing the strange impulse which
moved him to send back to Louis, who was in the camp of
Turenne, some French standards which had fallen into his
hands. "'The Spaniards are so little in the habit," said Louis,
"of taking French colours, that I scorn to deprive them of
their present trophy," and returned them to the traitorous
chief. The military apprenticeship of the king under Turenne
was of the greatest benefit to his character and position.
Away from Mazarin, he gradually became confident in himself; and, as the effeminate cavaliers of all the factions saw a
long perspective of wealth and glory in the court and camp
of a ruler of twenty-two, adhesions poured in from every side.
The Duchesses of the Fronde and Princesses of the Cardinal
concentrated all their arts on the youthful Louis, and in a
moment, as if by the turn of a conjuror's wand, the monarchic
spirit fostered by Richelieu revived in greater intensity than
ever. Slavery became a passion, and Condcl himself, when
peace had been declared with Spain, was drawn within the
vortex of flattery and obedience, and knelt before his placable
but contemptuous sovereign. "My cousin," he said, in answer
to his excuses, " after the great service you have rendered
to the Crown, I have no wish to remember any action of yours
which has only done harm to yourself." The Treaty of the
Pyrenees, concluded in 1659, contributed to the young king's
glory and the power of France: it secured to his crown large
portions of Flanders, HIainault, and Luxemburg; Roussillon
and Perpignan were confirmed to it in the south; and the




A. D. 1661.]     DEATH OF MAZARIN.                 345
friendship of the rival nations was farther consolidated by his
marriage with Maria Theresa, the daughter of the Spanish
king. To prevent at any time the union of the two crowns,
the Infanta, in the articles of marriage, made a solemn renmlciation of all her rights to the Spanish succession. Louis
contented himself with her dowry of five hundred thousand
golden crowns, and led her into Paris in August 1660.
Worn with years and labour, regretted by the queen, and
respected, from the force of youthful habit, by Louis, the
Cardinal ]Mazarin died in a few months (March 1661).  Cabals, plots, opposition, were all at an end, and the reign of
Louis the Fourteenth may be said to begin at this date. He
has fifty-four years of life and authority before him, and in
the course of that time the whole state of European society
will be changed. After the troubles of the Fronde in France,
and the great rebellion in England, which may be named
more as contrasts than resemblances, one of those ebbs which
occasionally occur in the advancing tide of liberty and progress made itself perceptible in both nations. The supporters
of the Grandc Remonstrance, the men of Dunbar and Marston
Moor, fell at the footstool of the falsest, basest, meanest of
monarchs and buffoons; while the intriguers of the boudoir,
and traitors of every party, the followers of De Retz and sycophants of Anne, rose to a higher sort of servitude, which was
almost dignity, when they bent their foreheads to the ground
at the audiences of the pompously-worded and gorgeouslyarrayed potentate, who already professed to represent inll his
own person the glory and majesty of France.




CHAPTER XIV.
THE KING REIGNS AND GOVERNS, A. D. 1662, TO THE PEACE OF NIIME
GIUEN, A. D. 1678.
LOUIS THE FOURTEENTH was now every inch a king, and
France, tired of the exactions of delegated power, and humiliated by the government of two foreign ecclesiastics, was delighted to be trodden under foot by a monarch of her own
blood, who oppressed her in his own name. Mazarin had
diedl, with his conscience and pocket equally burdened under
a fortune of eight millions sterling-a sum representing an
infinite amount of suffering in the then impoverished land,
and contrasting strangely with the actual poverty in which
the royal treasury was found. Louis spared the iniquitouslyacquired hoards of the avaricious Cardinal, but turned his eyes
on the ill-judged magnificence of the Superintendent of the
Finances. His name was Fouquet, of whom it is only necessary to say that he laid out nearly a million on the erection
of his house at Vaux, and had spent forty thousand pounds
in a f6te he injudiciously gave in honour of the king. The
king at that time had difficulty in maintaining any sort of
establishment at all, and never forgot the absurd ostentation of the entertainment, or the gorgeous grandeur of the
mansion. He took one for his model in the assemblies he
held at court, and the other for the enormous proportions of
his palace at Yersailles. Fouquet must have regretted the
splendours of the supper and the size of the banqueting-hall,
for they were evidently the cause of his disgrace. His transactions were inquired into, his extortions found out, his defalcations to the exchequer calculated, andc his goods and




A. D. 1662.]    THE GREAT COLBERT.                 347
chattels forfeited to the Crown. We do not read of any of
the surplus being refunded to the taxpayers; but a greater
favour was bestowed upon them than if they had been admitted to a share of the Intendant's spoils, for a new man
was appointed to his place —a man of perfect honesty, though
the temptations were so great; of purest patriotism, though
his country was now represented by one man; economical
with dignity, and just even in the partition of public burdens;
and this was a favourite clerk of Mazarin, who is known in
contemporary history as the great Colbert. No monarch ever
had a more sagacious or honourable servant. The finances
were put into a clear and intelligible form, the expenditure
was regulated by the receipts, useless pensions cut off, generous allowances made, and still the country was less oppressed
than it had ever been before.
The services of a man like Colbert had perhaps an injurious effect on the young king. lie saw his treasury regularly
supplied, his people contented, his courtiers obedient, and he
determined to make the other nations of Europe know that
he was a sort of personage they had not met with for a very
long time.  Europe, indeed, was regulated by externals at
that period more than it ever has been beibre or since, and
Louis was the exact king required to take cognisance of outward show. The Spanish ambassador took precedence of the
French at the court of our Charles the Second. A quarrel in
the street, between the respective footmen, made the occurrence public. Louis withdrew his minister from Spain, sent
*the Spanish minister out of the country, and told his astonished father-in-law that, if he did not send an envoy to make
open renunciation of all claims to pre-eminence over the ambassadors of France, he would declare war without a moment's
delay. The Spaniards were very proud, but they were also
lamentably poor; and a Don of the greatest magnitude was
sent over the Pyrenees, and made solemn declaration that the
representatives of the sovereign of Spain and the Indies held
only a secondary place in presence of the representatives
of the Most Christian King. At the same time, his ambas



348                PRIDE OF LOUIS.           [A. D. 1662
sador at Rome was insulted by the Corsican guard of the
Holy Father. The poor islanders were the lowest of all the
military servants of St. Peter, and limited their duties to
forming a guard of honour round a scaffold when anybody was
going to be hanged or beheaded; but Louis chose to make it
a question of state. He seized on Avignon, which was still
the property of the Church, and was looking with horrible
eyes upon the wealth of some of the French cathedrals, when
the Pope, for the first time in the history of the Papacy, sent
a cavalcade of nuncios and bishops to make a humble apology.
Nuncios had visited all parts of the world with threats and
denunciations, but Europe stood aghast when it saw the sacred embassy on its knees before the violator of the papal territory, and heard it agree to erect a pyramid where the insult
bad occurred, recording the event, and the reparation exacted
for it. When a man has bullied the King of Spain and the
Pope, he may, of course, trample on his own people to the top
of his bent. The poor remains of a parliament, therefore,
which reminded him of the troubles of the Fronde, underwent the humiliating process almost in its literal sense; for the
monarch, accompanied by his courtiers, entered the Hall of
their sittings, whip in hancl, and ordered the members to disperse. Cromwell had given the same invitation to the parliament of England, but it was with the Ironsides at his back,
who would have needed but a nod of his head to put the senators to death. An insult is more fatal to the independence
of an assembly than a violence; and perhaps the riding-switch
in the hand of Louis did more harm  to the parliamentary
idea in France than the bayonets of the grenadiers, whom we
shall soon see clearing the Legislative Council at the order of
Napoleon.
There is seldom a period of struggle and transition in a
State, without creating some great and preponderating personage, who becomes the representative of the time.  Out
English Rebellion ended in Cromwell, the American troubles
produced TWashington, and the French Revolution Napoleon.
But clustered round them all were the secondary heroes of




A. D. 1662.]   GREAT GENERALS OF FRANCE..34~
the day —Pyms, Hampclens, Elliots, Falklands, Straffords,
and Clarendons; the chief became but the central figure of
a constellation which made itself visible in the troubled sky.
Washington had his Franklin, and the other fathers of the
great republic; and Napoleon had the companions of ]his
glory, who were brought forward by the same causes as himself. But Louis the Fourteenth stepped into the rewards
of activity and courage, without having shared in the labour
and heat of the day. The foreign policy of Richelieu and the
intestine contentions of the Fronde had called forth a vast
amount of energy and experience in every department of the
State. Sword and pen, political wisdom and administrative
skill, were all at the command of the young sovereign, who
had hitherto lived in degrading subjection to a foreign priest
and domineering mother, and who suddenly, and without any
effort of his own, found himself at the head of a more subser-.
vient nobility than Francis the First, and a more devoted army
than Henry the Fourth.  He had Conde, Turenne, Gram~mont, Crequy, and Luxemburg, ready to execute his orders
against foreign powers. He had Colbert, the best of administrators, and Louvois, the best of secretaries-at-war, to superintend the internal interests of the nation and the discipline
of the forces. He had the gallant Francis, duke of Beaufort,
the handsome Frondeur, the favourite of the Parisian mobs,
the grandson of Henry the Fourth, as admiral of his fleets,
and spread the fear of France over all the islands of the MIedliterranean. Painters and poets were waiting in silent expectation for the proceedings of a reign which had so hopeful a
commencement, and Louis was not wanting to himself in this
respect.  He put the muses into his livery, as he had already
done the nobility; and literature and art became not so much
the bestowers of fame as the receivers of wages. Bossuet, the
greatest of French orators, and Mioliere, the greatest of French
dramatists, were equally at the orders of this portentous autocrat, to praise, to delight, to flatter and amuse him. Fame,
genius, intellect, or science, had no chance against the preponderating majesty of this very ill-educatecl, very narrow



3o0        ADULATION OF THE COURTIERS.  [A. D. 1658
hearted young man. If he smiled, the most dignified of
bishops condescended to the lowest and most degrading employments; if he frowned, the loftiest of poets retired in
despair from his presence, and died of a broken heart. Adulation had not reached such a pitch since the time of the old
Roman Empire, when the patricians said prayers before the
altars of Claudius or Nero. And as the circle of his admirers
increased, it extended beyond his own dominions, and he had
paid panegyrists and salaried applauders in all nations. He
made a yearly allowance to our dignified Charles the Second,
and gave gifts and annual pensions to our Right Honourable
and Honourable Houses of Parliament.  It will perhaps help
us to understand some of the causes of his prosperity, when
woe remember that he was the only sovereign in Christendom
at that time who was absolutely and entirely master of his
own kingdom. In other realms there were conflicting powers.
Spain was reduced, by the jealousies of its constituent kingdonms, almost into a confederation of small and ill-assorted
states; Germany was divided by religious enmities; England
was demoralised by the return of its impoverished and embittered exiles, and betrayed by its own king; Holland was not
yet consolidated after its tremendous struggle with Spain,
and was torn by internal factions, and intent on conquest in
the Brazils; Prussia was not yet a kingdom; and czars of
Mnuscovy were looked on as we now look on the kings of Cabul
or Nepaul-savage chiefs ruling a savage people, and so far
removed as to have no weight in the policies of civilised states.
This was the condition of France and the surrounding nations
before Louis had been five years on his independent throne
(1666).
It was in the year 1658 that, for the first time in history,
a firm and hearty alliance was in full force betweefn England
and France. Cromwell had sent six thousand of the soldiers
of the civil wars to serve under Turenne, who led them against
the Spaniards commanded by Conde, and after a great victory
over them at the battle of the Dunes, took the strong town
of IDunkirk, and delivered it to the English flag. The Eng



A. D. 1665.]   PREPARATIONS FOR WAR.               351
lish flag at that time was the standard of the Commonwealth;
and the first care of Louis, after the Restoration, was to purchase from the royal Charles the trophy of so many gallant
Englishmen's blood.  Charles sold Dunkirk to the French
king for a sum of money for his private purse, and in a short
time the nation heard with dismay that the harbour was
deepened, and the fortifications made impregnable, and a
fleet collected safely behind its bulwarks, which at any moment might be launched against the eastern coast. But
Louis was not yet ready to risk the existence of his marine.
He waited till the maddened English swept the seas of the
infuriated Dutch, and crippled their own resources in the
effort. In the mean time he built his vessels, enlarged the
port of Brest, dug a harbour at Cette, and covered the coast
round Rochefort with docks and arsenals.
When all these preparations were completed, he looked
round for a cause of quarrel, and found it in the right of his
wi-fe to the succession of her father, Philip the Fourth, who
died in 1665. We remember with what solemnity Maria
Theresa, at her marriage with the king in 1660, made renunciation of all her rights of succession to the states of her
father. The dowry of half a million of crowns was supposed
to be in full payment of all her claims; but the lawyers of
the young monarch now found out that the sum had never
been paid, and that the renunciation extended only to the
Spanish kingdoms, but had no reference to the other dominions of the late king; and the judges and bishops vied with
each other in declaring that Flanders and Brabant belonged
to the Queen of France by all laws, human and divine. The
Emperor Leopold, who was head of the house of Austria, and
traditionally jealous of the Bourbons, received hush-money
from the surplus treasures of Colbert, and a promise of the
succession to Spain itself when the feeble and unhealthy
Charles the Second-the brother of {Maria Theresa by a sec-.
ond marriage of her father-should leave it open by his death.
While the ambassadors and statesmen were toiling at the
best means of concealing the dishonest intentions of the two




352             FLANDERS OVERRUN.             [A. D. 1667.
greatest potentates in Europe, magazines of artillery and provisions were scattered thickly on the road between Paris and
the Netherlands.  The ways were levelled, cattle collected,
peasants engaged to aid in the transport; and when the time
was come, and the justice of his cause proved to the satisfaction of thirty thousand men, equipped, armed, and victualled
by the efforts of Louvois, the secretary-at-war, war was
openly declared, and the whole force of France-its nobles,
generals, soldiers, and engineers-followed Louis to the field
in the assurance of victory, and were not* disappointed.
Town after town opened its gates to the brilliant Court, who
transferrecl the luxuries of the Louvre to the trenches of a
besieged city. The army from this time became a profession
in which merit was sure to rise, and supplied the want of noble birth or hereditary fortune. A few words of praise uttered
by Louis to a young man who distinguished himself at the
head of his company, was equal to a peerage. Military rank,
in short, became a recognised standing in the State; and
when a tax-collector's money had purchased a lieutenancy in
some aristocratic regiment for his son, his position was assured, and he might have horsewhipped his former equals with
impunity, as if he had been born a lord.
In one campaign the whole of Flanders was overrun.
Names of places very prominent in succeeding wars, occur as
yielding without a blow —Charleroi, Ath, Tournay, Lille, and
Douay. Brussels would have fallen with the same facility, if
it had not been thought better to secure the posts already
captured. The great Vauban, who introduced a new species
of fortification-of which the main characteristic is, that it
places its citadel almost on a level with the ground, and does
away with the lofty buildings which used to carry the guns and
stand exposed to the enemy's fire-tried his first experiment
on a great scale in the defences of Lille.  Offering no mark
to an attacking force, but fenced in with ditch and sunken
wall, the garrison lay secure within its ball-proof casemates,
and poured destruction on any assailant who came within
their fire, from loop-holed walls. Flanders, which had been




A. D. 1668.]   FRANCHE COTITE SEIZED.             353
conquered by the king, was now supposed to be guarded by
Vauban; and Louis went back to Paris to receive the applauses of his enraptured subjects, and the incense of the
painters and poets.
Turenne, who had in reality commanded all the movements, had no greater glory from the campaign than the
triumph of exciting the jealousy of Condcl. Franche Comte
had obtained its name of Franche, or Free, by being held in
only a nominal subjection by the kings of Spain. In all essentials the inhabitants ruled themselves, and, by the mere
appearance of republican independence, must have been an
eyesore to the surrounding monarchs. It lay like a wedge
thrust in between Switzerland and Burgundy, and interrupted the communication between Dauphiny and Lorraine.
Conde was governor of Burgundy, and made certain propositions to Louvois and the king. WThat the propositions were
nobody knew; but in the February of 1668 the truth came
out. Twenty thousand men, with the same admirable order
as in the preceding year they had traversed the Spanish Flanders, crossed over into Franche Comte, with Louis at their
head, but with the great Conde in command. In twelve
days from the time of his leaving St. Germains, the king was
received in Besangon, and hoisted his standard in every citadel of the land. The conquest of Flanders was no longer
the wonder of the Court; the submission of Franche Comte
hiad been enforced in less than half the time. But the glory
of Turenne was more permanent, inasmuch as the new acquisition of Condc6 awoke the susceptibilities of all the powers.
England, Sweden, and Holland, entered into an alliance to
resist the further aggressions of the French; and in spite of
Louis's contempt for Charles, whom he paid, and the Hollanders, whom he despised as republicans, and the Swedes
who lay on the other side of the Baltic, he was obliged to
yield. The obstinacy of the envoy of the United Provinces,
a certain Van Beuring, prevailed. A combination of all the
maritime states was threatened, and with a sulky submission,
Louis surrendered Franche Comte to its former sovereign, and
00




354         PEACE OF AIX-LA-CHAPELLE.    [A. D. 1669
vowed vengeance deep and lasting against the presumptuous
Dutch. This sacrifice was forced from him by the peace of
Aix-la-Chapelle, concluded in MIay of the same year, 1668.
Conquest and treaties were more speedy in those days than
they have often been since, for the Triple Alliance, suggested
by our English Sir William Temple, was arranged with Holland and Sweden in five days; and the Treaty of Aix-laChapelle was signed in six weeks after the negotiations were
begun.
To hide his discontent, or his desire of vengeance, the
-king threw himself into the whirl of gaieties and expenses
which have made this reign as memorable as his greater actions. He began the palace of Versailles, and directed in
person the laying out of the alleys and the planting of the
groves. That vast mass of masonry still remains to attest
the poverty of the architectural taste of the time, and the
blindness of an absolute monarch in entonmbing himself in a
place so vast, and so overwhelming in mere extent, that its
inhabitant must have sunk into utter insignificance.  There
were beds and suites of rooms for many hundreds of people;
and the palace, when it was fairly finished and filled, had as
many cabals and as many lies and rumours in it as the most
scandalous of country towns. Meanwhile Louis was in the
heyday of his career, and was beyond all question the most
popular man in France. He carried the graces of deportment
to a point never dreamt of before. He walked with such a
tramp of dignity, rolling his eyes and turning out his toes,
that the courtiers could stand the sight no longer, and burst
into loud applause. He wore red heels to his shoes, four
inches high, which added greatly to his stature, and yet did
not bring him up to the standard of ordinary men. His
features were large and handsome; and when he danced in
public, and stalked across the scene with the attitudes of
conscious power, the French taste became perverted altogether. All gentlemen walked with a strut, and stuck out
-their elbows, and tied themselves in at the waist. They also
wore immense wigs covered with flour, flowing over theii




A. D. 1670.1        FRENCH TASTE.                   308
shoulders, and silver-buckled shoes that came nearly up to
the ankle.  A hat it was impossible for a conjuror to balance
on the top of the enormous periwig, so they carried the threecornered cockadcled superfluity under their arms or in their
hands. Rich velvet coats, with amazingly wide skirts, brocaded waistcoats half-way to the knee, satin small-clothes
and silk stockings, composed their apparel, which received its
crowning adornment in gold-headed cane and diamond-hilted
sword.  It is perhaps unjust in us, who are still condemned
to round hats, whlich shelter us neither from the sun nor rain,
and tight-fitting neck-ties and swallow-tailed coats, to laugh
at the fashions of two hundred years ago; but there is always something characteristic of a period's sentiments in the
clothes it wears.  The thougChts of that time were as absurdly
artificial as the dress.  There was velvet and hair-powder in
its poetry and theology; and its admiration of power, as condensed inl the puffed-out person of the king,' outraged every
feeling of manliness or self-respect.
Two things occurring in this year will show the change
that had taken place since the days of the blind searching for
independence, even of the Fronde, which were now looked
back upon with shame.  Condel, the conoqueror of Rlocroy,
and latterly of Franche Comt6, obtained the honour of a
square hassock at the king's mass, as a reward for all his gallantry; and the Duke of Verinandois, natural son of the
king, was created Lord High Admiral.  This distinguished
naval commander was a child of the beautiful Duchess de la
Valliere, and was at this time one year old.  Du Guesclin
would have seen no honour in kneeling on one sort of cushion
more than another in presence of Charles the Fifth; and
Louis the Eleventh would not have ventured to give so high
an office to an infant, though legitimate heir to the Crown.
But the smiles of the king were valuable even at the altar;
and it was from this atmosphere of sycophancy and devotion
in which he lived, that he looked out upon the sturdy Hollanders, and thought the hour of his revenge was come.  He
sent the beautiful Henrietta of England, the daughter of




350             WILLIAMB   O  ORANGE.       [A. D. 1670
Charles the First, who had married his brother the Duke of
Orleans, on a secret embassy to her brother Charles the
Second. That craven king met her at Canterbury, and sold
the alliance of the United Provinces for an enlargement of his
allowance, and even went so far as to promise his aid in ships
and men, provided he got some share of the spoil when the
Protestant republic should be destroyed. Sweden, which had
fallen into a minor's hands, was silenced by the same arts;
and De Witt, the Pensionary or chief officer of the Netherlands, sent to inquire the causes of the great preparations
going on in the arsenals of France. " I will do what consists
with my dignity," replied the king, " and owe an account of
my proceedings to no one."  The Hollanders saw the approaching storm, and turned their eyes to a young man, the
descendant of the great Nassaus to whom they owed their
deliverance from the Spanish yoke, and invited him to take
the military government into his hands. This was William,
Prince of Orange, whom we shall afterwards see on the throne
of Great Britain, under the name of William the Third. He
was nephew of Charles by his mother, and the honest burgomasters of the towns thought it a master-stroke of policy to
appoint him to the command —it would be such an unnatural
thing for an uncle to help in the ruin of his own flesh and
blood. Charles counted his pension, and mourned the untimely death of the fair amlbassadress Henrietta of Orleans,
who died, within a few weeks of her return, of some unknown
and mysterious malady, which, however, at that time, was not
uncommon among ladies who had the misfortune to offend
their husbands. And things took their course. A hundred
and thirty thousand men, under the command of Turenne,
Cond6,, and Luxemburg, poured to the north-eastern frontier.
Louvois, as usual, had foreseen all the requirements of the
war, and had even had the skill to diminish the military
stores of the Hollanders by buying them at exorbitant prices
for the use of France. Vauban was there with his skill, and
General Martinet-whose name is still the word for a punctiliousness in discipline unknown before-attended to the




A. D. 1670.]     HOLLAND ATTACKED.                 357
order of march and the details of the drill. The men on tlis
occasion were armed for the first time with the bayonet, the
most tremendous instrument, when placed in proper hands,
yet discovered by the ingenuity of man. The King's House
-as a body of the young nobility all radiant in gold and lace
was called-caracolled in gorgeous array round their master's
tent at MIaestricht; and if the poor Dutchmen had been as
good scholars as they were fishermen and merchants, they
would have been reminded of the myriads of Xerxes on their
glittering march to Greece. In forty days Holland was overthrown, and the French were already within four leagues of
Amsterdam.  De Witt, the Grand Pensionary, was for unconditional submission, and sent an embassy to the camp.
The embassy was insultingly dismissed, and the people of the
Hague rushed desperately to the house of the great statesman,
and tore him and his brother Cornelius to pieces. Everything seemed now settled, and rejoicings were already preparing to celebrate the final conquest of the country, when
the calm and resolute William of Orange gave desperate proof
of his firmness and sagacity. He opened the sluices throughout the land. The great German Ocean and the Rhine
poured over all the plain, and the invading army was limited
to the high grounds on which their citadels were placed.
Better, he thought, give his country to the sea than lose its
liberties. While pressed within the walls of Amsterdam, and
with the enemy's army in full march against him, he had still
sent forth the Dutch fleet to meet his enemies on the sea.
Off Yarmouth a great battle was fought, with doubtful success, between the united French and English and the Hollanders.  De IRuyter, indeed, was the Nelson of his native
land, and had noble and worthy companions in the bold men
who steered so unflinchingly against such desperate odds. In
three other great combats the victory continued equally undecided; but in some cases not to be defeated is to win, and
the squadrons of the Provinces sailed triumphantly into port.
William was like a lion at bay. Shame took possession of
the English parliament to see the Protestant prince left




358                 MIONTECUCULLI.           [A. D. 1674.
friendless in his struggle with the Great King; and the exasperatecd nation forced the wretched Charles to sign a treaty
of peace with his heroic nephew in February, 1674. It
needed but an example, and every generous heart warmed to
the defender of his country. Brunswick, Brandenburg (now
Prussia), Mlinster, Osnaburg, Spain and the Empire, took
arms against the oppressor. Louis had now all Europe opposed to him, and rejoiced in the opportunity of distinction
by showing that he was equal to all other nations combined.
France seemed, indeed, to grow with the magnitude of her
efforts, and all the frontiers were covered with armed men.
Louis himself marched once more against Franche Comte,
and attached it for ever to the Crown. Cond6 fought a
drawn battle at Senef with the indefatigable Prince of Orange.
And Turenne, passing into Germany at the head of a numerous army, which had been reinforced by the conquerors of
Franche Comte, defeated the combined forces of the Emperor
and the Duke of Lorraine at Sintzheim. He then entered
the Palatinate, the most rich and beautiful province upon the
Rhine, fertile in wine and corn, and gay with many prosperous towns and happy villages, and brought shame and execration on himself and his unpitying master by the devastation
he wrought. He burned the peaceful hamnlets, and slew the
unoffending people. He so destroyed the farms, and tore
down the woods and vineyards, that three generations have
not sufficed to restore its ancient fertility or wealth. T.he
hatred of the peasantry still rests upon Louis and Turenne,
and the curse of so many outraged homes lay heavy on them
both. After several victories, by which the Imperialists were
driven across the Rhine which they had crossed near Strasburg, the proposer of the devastation of the Palatinate and
the executioner of his' fury went to the high altar of St. Germains and returned thanks for their success. In the next
campaign, Turenne was opposed by Montecuculli at the head
of the Germa n forces, and prepared to attack him in an unfavourable position into which his movements had drawn him
at: Saltsbach; a bullet, which is still shown in the museum




A. D. 1675.]       FEIUDAL TENANTS.                  3 5 c
of the Invalides at Paris, struck him in the breast as he was
inspecting the enemy's works, and the greatest of French
leaders died a soldier's death, 27th July, 1675.
The loss was so great that it was equivalent to a defeat.
Without striking a blow, the army recrossedl the Rhine, and
Louis looked uneasily at the further progress of the European
coalition.  The Marshal de Crequy had been defeated and
made prisoner at Treves, Alsace was threatened by the victorious 3Montecuculli, and the aspect of affairs was serious
enough.  Some traces of the old military organisation still
lingered in the legal tenures of the landed properties, and
Louis, in this extremity, called out the feudal tenants. Gentlemen from all parts of the country answered to the call.
The realm was in danger, and old viscounts and vavasours
left their patrimonial holdings, mounted on such horses as
they possessed, and armed with such weapons as pleased their
fancy. But when four thousand of those antediluvians, including their retainers, appeared with the regular army on
the borders of Flanders; it was found they would be of no
use, as they certainly were not at all ornamental; and this
was the last appearance in history of the feudal chivalry which
had existed in the armies of Clovis, and defended the kingdom
in the clays of Pepin, and suffered a glorious eclipse at Agincourt.
But Louvois, who hated Turenne, determined to show
that France had many as worthy a son as he, and furnished
an army to the Great Condcl, who was nominated to the command in Germany, so excellently disciplined and plentifully
supplied that the old days of victory were renewed.  Cond6,
emulous of Turenne, adopted his tactics of caution and observation; and having checked the Italian general-who rivalled
in the Imperial service the glories of his opponent in the
French-he relinquished the command of armies at the end
of this campaign, and lived to an honoured old age in his
magnificent retirement of Chantilly.  Montecuculli also retired into private life in this year, which saw the death of
Turenne and the resignation of Cond6.  "A man who has




360              DE RUYTETR  IILLED.          [A. D. 1676
had the honour," he said, "~ to oppose such generals, should
not risk his laurels against tyros in the art of' war."
Ina the two campaigns of 1676 and 1677, the king and his
brother, Monsieur, attained almost equal distinction. Louis
took Bouchain, Valenciennes, and Cambrai; and Monsieur
won the battle of ~Mont Cassel against the Prince of Orangce.
The winner of a battle, however, is never without enemies at
home; and Louis had the meanness to hate his brother for
being so like a rival near his throne. Fame was also acquired
on a new element in those eventful years. A privateer-not
very far removedcl, in those clays, from a pirate-of the name
of Du Quesne, had distinguished himself, first in the management of a single vessel belonging to his native Dieppe, and
then, as the war became more maritime, in the command of
small squadrons.  He had been rapidly raised in the ranks
of his profession, and at this time was what the French call
lieutenant-general of the naval forces, equal to our viceadmiral of the fleet.  Du Quesne was placed in charge of a
large fleet in 1676, and sailed into the Sicilian waters.  De
Ruyter, who had resisted with such valour the combined
efforts of France and England, was now, by the strange revolution of politics, the admiral of the united fleets of Holland
and Spain. He was blockading the harbour of Messina, and
the French had been called to the aid of the revolted townsmen. On seeing the hostile flag, he sailed out into the open
sea, and after an indecisive combat in January, he bore down
upon Du Quesne, and commenced a general action.  Those
waters have often before and since been witnesses to the
struggles of contending nations, and have heard the shouts
of Carthagenians and tRomans, Goths and Normans, English
and French; but a more glorious career was never brought to
a close than at the battle of Agosta, where De Ruyter received
his death-wound. His name, indeed, survives the town which
gave its designation to the combat, for it has long been swallowed up by earthquake.  And even Louis, who had the
faculty of making noble speeches, though without the power
of entertaining noble thoughts, on being congratulated that a




A. D. 1678.]    PEACE OF NIMEGUEN.                 361
dangerous enemy was removed, replied, " It is impossible not to be affected at the death of a great man."  Du
Quesne, who expected a speech in his favour, of equal elevation, was disappointed. He received neither speech nor
trophy, and the reason assigned by the king himself was, that
he was a Protestant.  " Sire," said Du Quesne, who had also
the faculty of saying fine things,'" when I fought your majesty's enemies, I did not inquire what religion they were of."
At this time, when people were blinded by the blaze of his
glory, the sagacious councillors of Louis advised him to conceal that exhaustion, which is always the price of fame, had
fallen upon the realm, snd that his exchequer was nearly
empty, and his levies insufficient. He therefore listened to
overtures of peace, and was generous when it did not interfere
with his own interests. He adroitly hinted at commercial
privileges to the Dutch; and no consideration would persuade
those mercantile patriots to continue the war which William
of Orange recommended, as he saw the real motive of the
conqueror's moderation. He took his last revenge on the oppressors of his country by thundering down upon the camp
of Luxemburg, who, in reliance on the preliminaries being
settled, was in no expectation of an attack; and thus gloriously concluded the campaign by driving the French from the
field.
But nothing could resist the longings for peace which had
seized on the heart of Europe. The Empire, and Spain, and
Holland, and all the belligerents, great and small, determined
to be at rest; and Louis signed the Peace of Nimeguen, first
with Holland, and then with the other powers in succession,
with the affected condescension of a benignant patron who
bestowed repose on a suffering world, but with the skill of a
politician who took possession of as much as he could comfortably retain. He kept the whole of Franche Comte and
Alsace, and many of the strong fortresses and industrious
towns of Flanders. He secured-perhaps with a prescient
thought that Spain might some time or other have the same
interest with himself-a strong boundary-line between the




362                POWER OF LOUIS.            [A. D. 1678:
Spanish possessions andl the Netherlands; and, as if merely
to show his power, he forced the Elector of Brandenburg to
restore the territories he had conquered from Sweden, and the
King of Denmark to diminish the clues he had established on
entering the Baltic.  Having thus shown that his word was
law from Calabria to Norway, he reposed upon his laurels,
and applied the same care to the little quarrels of his courtthe discussions about the precedence at a ball, or the order of
being " incensedcl" at church —as he had bestowed so successfully on the machinations of the Empire and the enterprises
of Spain.




CHAPTER XV.
GRANDEUR AND FALL OF LOUIS, A.D. 1678 TO A.D. 1715.
IT was at this time that, the municipal authorities of Paris
conferred, in a formal manner, the epithet of Great on the
king they delighted to honour. But the mayors and aldermen
of towns are not the bestowers of fame. History has not
ratified the title, and we may in a very short time be able to
see the reason. To be great, a man must be generous and
just; he must be unselfish, and have trust in other men.
Alexander is called the Great, because the heroic and lovable
portions of his character compensated for the darker parts.
Frederick the Second of Prussia has been called the Great,
to distinguish him from the exceedingly little Fredericks by
whom he was preceded and followed; but nothing but the
grossest flattery could affix a name indicative of the virtues
of patriotism and noble thoughts on the tyrannical and inflated potentate who sat on the throne of France. The sentiments of his subjects, however, are not much more elevated
than his own. At the commencement of his independent
reign, at the death of Mazarin, the poet Racine dedicated to
him his tragedy of " Alexander," and held forth the lMacedonian destroyer of Persia as a proper model for a Christian
king in the year 1663, " inasmuch as it needed only a little
effort to make him redoubtable to all Europe. I foresee,' he
adds, " that your majesty will cover yourself with fresh
glories, and at the head of an army complete the resemblance
to your illustrious prototype, and add the title of Conqueror
to that of the wisest monarch in the world."




364        OVERBEARING CONDUCT OF LOUIS.  [Ax. n 1678
The peace of Nimeguen put an end for a while to this
career of wisdom  and conquest.  But no sooner were the
swords of the belligerents sheathed, and the bills of their previous expenditures examined, than the various principalities
and powers were astonished to perceive the proceedings of the
French monarch. He doubled his fleet. he laid the foundations of the works at Cherbourg, which were only finished in
1858; he kept his army on its full establishment; he fabricated arms and accoutrements as if he were in the midst of a
dreadful war; and having a hundred ships in his harbours,
sixty thousand sailors in his pay, a line of strongly-armed fortresses on the frontier of his rule, and a vast array of soldiers
cantoned throughout the land, he commenced the trade of
spoiler on a very considerable scale, and seized several towns
belonging to his friends and neighbours without giving them
any notice of his design. The strong town of Strasburg,
barrier and capital of Alsace, which covered the Rhine, and
opened a passage into Germany by a commodious bridge, was
pounced upon in profound peace, and then fortified by Vauban and victualled by Louvois, so as to place it beyond any
probability of recapture. He demanded Alost in Flandclers
from the Emperor, on the sole ground that he wished to have
it; and bought the town of Casal near Milan of its possessor
the Duke of nMantua, who was very much in want of funds.
The neighbouring nations looked on with awe. Singly, there
was no chance for any of them, and the overwhelming master
of such forces would give them no time to unite. Louis, indeed, owed as much to the insufficiency of his rivals as to his
own self-will in the position he had assumed. England we
need not speak of, for it was under the degrading influence
of the Stuarts; Spain was sinking beyond hope in the apathy
of exhaustion; Germany was tormented with internal struggles and the terror of a Turkish invasion. There was but one
man of the time competent to the task of curbing the excesses of the great king, but he was only the hereditary prince
and elective governor of one of the smallest of the states: and
had nothing for some years but the glory of devising noble




A. D. 1681.]     ALGIERS BOMBARDED.                 365
plans for the deliverance of Europe, without materials, in
men or money to carry them into effect. This was William
of Orange, who is reported to have said, that since he could
not obtain Louis's friendship, he was determilled to conquer
his esteem. Fine speeches, however, had become so much the
fashion at this time, that they were attributed to every body;
and it is not necessary for us to believe that William either
valued the friendship of the devastator of his country, or paid
him the compliment of supposing that a defence of popular
freedom could acquire the despot's esteem.  To give still further notice to his neighbours of the hopelessness of opposition,
and keep up the military enthusiasm of his subjects, he sent
a powerful fleet against Algiers, with mortars for the discharge
of bomb-shells-a new invention, which was expected to alter
the whole art of maritime war, as it gave an equality of force
to an attacking fleet against stone batteries on land. The
bombardment was successful, but at so prodigious an expense
that the Dey is reported to have offered to set fire to the town
himself if Louis would send him one-half of what the expedition had cost.
In three years after this, the corsairs were again visited
by the gunboats and mortars of the champion of the Christian
cause.  The captives were given up to the French admiral,
but as the English who happened to be among the slaves had
the stubborn stupidity to say that the Dey had delivered them
out of compliment to the King of England, the victorious
Frenchman put them all ashore again, assuring them that the
submission of the barbarians was made entirely to the flag of
Louis the Great-a trait which, to the perverted taste of
Voltaire himself, appears characteristic not more of English
pride than of the respect paid to the French king. This dignified ruler took credit to himself for abstaining from the
basest of crimes. There was a vast quantity of self-laudation when he refrained for a whole year, in a time of perfect
peace, from warlike operations against the Emperor, who was
at that time driven from Vienna by the Turks, two hundred
thousand strong, and only saved his capital, and probably the




366               THE POPE INSULTED.          [A. D. 1683.
remainder of his states, by the assistance of the heroic John
Sobieski, king of' Poland. A gentleman might as well take
credit to himself' for not running -off with his friend's watch
when he is attacked by highwaymen, and busied in the protection of his purse and life. It was not discovered for some
time after, that the gentleman on this occasion from the first
had been in alliance with the thieves. But the patience and
Iong-suffering of the world were tried by still greater pretensions. The grand old republic of Genoa was so humbled that
she sent her Doge to implore freedom in Paris.  The other
kings had yielded all his demands. It was only left to show
his superiority to the superior of all crowned heads, and take
an easy victory over the Pope. The ambassadors resident at
Rome had agreed to surrender a certain privilege which they
had acquired, nobody could say how, of exempting all the
persons who lived in their palaces, or even in their quarter,
from payment of the dues charged on importation at the gates
of the city. Louis was requested to follow this example. He
answered haughtily it was for him to set an example, not to
follow it; and maintained the right of his representatives,
though it interfered very materially with the police regulations
and the revenue of the town. He sent an embassy which
looked a great deal more like an attempt at conquest than a
visit of peaceful friendship.  The minister was attended at
his official entrance by a thousand men fully armed, and took
possession of his house as if it had been a citadel. He then
placed sentinels round it, and seized a neighbouring church,
which he turned into a military post. The high days of the
Papacy had passed away, or an insult like this would have
armed all Christendom in its defence. All that the Pope
could do was to excommunicate the ambassador, but the
Marquis de Lavardin only laughed at the harmless ceremony,
which three hundred years before would have brought his
master to the footstool of St. Peter.
Having thus attained the pinnacle of earthly glory by the
personal abasement of the loftiest dignitary of his religion, he
determined to show that it was from no leaning to the Prot



A. D. 1685.] REVOCATION OF THE EDICT OF NANTES.   367
estant doctrines that be thus humiliated the Catholic chief.
In the same year that he insulted the princely and pontifical
dignity of the helpless Innocent the Eleventh, he signed the
famous " Revocation of the Edict of Nantes."  In 1598, the
generous and sagacious Henry the Fourth had secured the
peace and prosperity of the kingdoma by the Settlement of
religious disputes contained in the "'Edict" he issued on
changing his faith. Three generations of Frenchmen  had
grown up under this Christian comprehension, and had lost
the asperity of polemic differences in the ennobling sentiments
of their common duties. Sully and his Iluguenot contemporaries had accepted their position as a tolerated and protected minority, and had performed their services to the State
without reference to creed or communion. Louis himself was
the first who introduced a distinction in the selection of his
servants.  Turenne, Schomberg, and Du Quesne, though of
the proscribed persuasion, had been found indispensable, and
were unwillingly given an opportunity of distinguishing their
talents. Turenne, indeed, yielded to the arguments of Bossuet, and rose into unclouded favour with the king by his conversion to the Catholic faith; but the others were more stubborn or less enlightened, and suffered with the common herd
under the great calamity that now fell upon the professors of
the Reformed religion. Du Quesne was excepted by name,
but died before he could avail himself of the indulgence.
Schomberg joined the great stream of exiles who were driven
into foreign lands by the savage and impolitic principles that
had actuated the king. There was to be no toleration for dissent. The Huguenots were to disappear from the land they
polluted with their presence, either by conformity to the
Roman Church or banishment from their homes. What sufferings were included under that dreadful word, we can
scarcely imagine now, for the hospitable shores of America
are open to us, and the new regions of Australia invite us
with outstretched arms. But the Frenchman was driven
from his shop in the town and his country farm; from his
cottage on the Seine, or his manufactory on the Rhone; his




368            MADAME DE MAINTENON.          [A. D. 1685.
fortunes were ruined, his friendships and associations broken
off; and hundreds of thousands poured across the ungrateful
borders, harbouring an enmity to their country, which found
indeed, on one or two occasions, outlet for itself in open war,
but took a far surer revenge on their hypocritical and bigoted
oppressors, by carrying their arts, their talents, and industry
into other and hostile lands. The looms of depopulated Lyons
hummed strains of vengeance in the now crowded workshops
of Norwich; Germany, Switzerland, Sweden itself, received
accessions of skilled and earnest workmen, who spread refinement and taste among the artisans of those simple countries,
and enabled them to compete with the French in the markets
of the world. Yet the agony must be great to leave the scenes
of one's youth and manhood, for even an assured provision
under other skies; and on this occasion grey-haired fathers
and prattling children, strong-armed men and women in the
bloom of beauty, were driven forth, with no home to receive
them, and exposed to all the sufferings of friendlessness and
want.
Louis rejoiced in the work of his hands when he saw the
emptied villages, and felt that God was worshipped with no
heterodox ceremonial from  Calais to Marseilles.  To this
great act of religious fervour he was impelled by two considerations. One was, that he had conveyed his affections to
a cold narrow-hearted woman, of the age of forty-seven, who
had been companion and successor of his former favourite,
Madame de Montespan, and was resolved to make up for the
sins of her youth by rigid propriety in her old age. This was
Madclame de Maintenon, a successful adventuress, who had
earned her first maintenance by giving her hand to a deformed
buffoon of the name of Scarron, and achieved the highest of
royal dignities by a private marriage with Louis the Fourteenth. The other consideration was, that an avowed and
unflinching advocate of Popish doctrines was now seated on
the English throne, and gave whatever influence could be
derived from  the co-operation of James the Second to any
step which could he taken to injure the Protestant cause.




A. D. 16s88.    ENGLISH REVOLUTION.                369
But Madame de Maintenon and James were equally disappointed in the result of the Revocation. The few recollections of liberty and self-respect still remaining in the hearts
of the French, were turned to gall by the treatment of their
fellow subjects. The spirit of opposition to the arbitrary
proceedings of the English court was strengthened by the accession of so many thousand expatriated Frenchmen, who
showed in their own persons the result of Romish supremacy.
Never had the whole of Europe been nearer the loss of freedom than at this time. The North had forgotten its ancient
glories, and erected despotic thrones in the Scandinavian
kingdoms. Except in Great Britain and Hollandcl, there was
no approach to representative or liberal government. James
fought with all his power to make his domains no exception
to the universality of absolute rule, and pursued his schemes
with so little judgment that a far more quiescent people
than the descendants of the lords of Runnymede, and the
gentlemen of the Petition of Right, would have been moved
to rebellion. Rebellion, indeed, is scarcely a fitting word for
the resolution which a great and outraged nation took to dismiss so disgraceful and contemptible an oppressor. A rebellion is a rising up against established power; but this was a.
determination to abolish a newly-founded system of cruelty
and weakness, which was in fact itself a rebellion against a
nation's rights.  The Prince of Orange had watched the
gradual rise of English discontent. His wife was daughter of
the infatuated king, and he himself was nephew. VWhen the
nation's patience at last gave way, the Prince appeared off
the coast of Devon with a powerful fleet, which had been
gathered without ostentation or notice in the ports of Holland,
and landed with a few thousand soldiers at Torbay.  Before
Louis had time to recover from his surprise at the audacity
of so small a potentate as the Stadtholder of the Provinces
invading a great kingdom in alliance with himself, he received
a visit from the fugitive Stuart, and perceived that the expedition of the Prince was not considered by the British people
as an invasion, but a deliverance. He felt it, however, an in24




370             BATTLE OF THE BOYNE.         [A. D. 1690
crease of his dignity that he had a crowned head in his wages.
He established the unlucky exile, therefore, in St. Germains,
and treated him with the ceremony befitting a sovereign of
England, and a dependant of his own.
But these stage antics at St. Germains were received with
very little favour at St. James's, or in the Houses of Parliament.  The British nation had declared that James the
Second was no longer its king. Louis made equally solemn
declaration that he was; and issue was joined on this great
question, where the pleadings were carried on with fleets and
armies. James made his appearance in Ireland at the head
of some French troops and made his disappearance at the
Boyne, pursued by the French refugees.  Schomberg was at
their head, and when the uniforms of Louis's contingent were
seen on the other side of the river, "Gentlemen," he said,'" behold your persecutors," and the Huguenot cry was again
heard as they charged upon their foes. The question was definitively settled, as regarded the possession of the English
throne, by the flight of the dispossessed and dastardly claimant; but the other matters in dispute, which had been cherished on both sides, between Louis and William, were now
to be brought to the arbitrament of arms.  " The bad that
men do liveth after them,"' and England felt for some time
the inefficiency or dishonesty of her former king. Charles,
his jovial brother, had wasted in revelry the money devoted
to the defences of the country. James had turned into polemnic channels the sums voted for the maintenance of the
fleet. Failing in his great effort of forcing the nation to embrace the Romish faith, he succeeded in stripping it of its
natural bulwarks, and the harbours were either empty or
thinly occupied by rotting ships and ill-paid crews.  Tourville, the French admiral, was accordingly ruler of the sea.
He defeated the English and Dutch squadron off Dieppe,
and reigned supreme in the channel for nearly two years.
Louis, availing himself of this circumstance made one more
attempt to establish his' puppet on the English throne.
Fleets from the other harbours were collected at Brest, and




A. D. 1692.]          LA HOGUE.                   37:1
an army was stationed in the neighbourhood of Clherbourg.
When all preparations were made, the great expedition put
to sea; but William had wasted the supplies neither on suppers at Whitehall nor missionary labours among the clergy,
and presented a rampart of a hundred vessels of war, that
bore gallantly down on the fleet of Tourville, and put an end
to the naval energy of France by the tremendous overthrow
of La Hogue. James is reported by his apologists to have
witnessed the engagement from a safe position on shore, and
to have said,'" See how my brave English fight!"  But this
is not in keeping with his character. It is much more certainly known that he volunteered to serve on board the
French fleet, but probably with the hope of having his offer
refused.
At the same time that he tried to impose a monarch on a
neighbouring country, for the gratification of his pride, the
French king was carrying on a war on the Emperor and the
Duke of Savoy, in order to obtain as much as possible of a
neighbouring country for himself. His first campaign had
been as brilliant as usual: Luxemburg defeated the confederates (the Imperialists, English and Hollanders) at Fleurus.
The Savoyard was defeated with still easier glory by Catinat
at Stafarde, near Saluces; and Piedmont was overrun in a
very short time. In 1691 the town of Mons was captured by
the king in person, and Liege mercilessly bombardedc after its
resistance had ceased. In the following year Namnur was
taken in the presence of Louis, who assumed the nominal
command, and in the face of WVilliam and a powerful army.
Leaving his conquest to be strengthened by Vauban, Luxemburg obtained another victory over the English king at
Steinkirk.  This battle is one of those of which the circumstances make it memorable in spite of its merely temporary
results. WVilliam had detected a spy of Luxemburg in the
camp. He made him write a false report to his employer,
which would put him off his guard, and closed in upon the
French army before it could recover from its surprise.  But
there was a great number of young nobles studying the art




372                   STEINKIRK.             [A. D. 1693
of war or of victory (for they seemed the same thing) under
the Marshal Luxemburg. Princes of the blood, descendants
of the Great Condlb, great-grandsons of Henry the Fourth,
and nephews of Turenne-these and others placed themselves at the head of their regiments, and bore up against the
attack, till Luxemburg arranged his lines. The fight was
the most critical of the war, and ended in a triumph of the
French. But the danger had been great, and the enthusiasm
of the whole nation gathered round the gay young cavaliers
who had saved the reputation of its arms. They were met
by crowds outside the towns as they returned to the capital.
Flowers, crowns, and speeches were poured upon them all the
way; and fashion conlpletecl their reward by inventing absurd
pieces of dress in the shape of lace neckcloths and calling
them Steinkirks.  There were Steinkirk watch-chains, Steinkirk seals, Steinkirk bracelets, of which the names still remain, though the origin of them is forgotten.  But this campaign of 1693 was famous for the bloodiest engagement of
those times. At Nerwinde, William was nearly surprised, as
Luxemburg had been at Steinkirk.  He had only time to
entrench himself during the night, and in the morning the
combat began. It was fought with far more bitterness than is
usual in civilised war; for the exiles of France, the sufferers
by the Revocation, were again placed face to face with their
oppressors, and religious fury was mingled with their military
courage. Twenty thousand men were left dead upon the
fieldc; the wounded filled the villages of France and the
Netherlands. There was great glory obtained by the French
conquerors on this terrible day, but the glory of the vanquished Hollanders was no less. William was one of the
men who rise with the necessities of their position. Almost
always defeated, and never depressed-enabled, by some indomitable energy of his own mind, to resist a triumphant
advance with the remnants of a scattered array-it is impossible to say whether his military fame.would have been increased, in the opinion of qualified judges, by a series of suec
cesses.




A. D. 1695.]    SUCCESSES OF WILLIAM.              373
The, French began to tire of useless fame; a victory never
put them an inch nearer the object of their wishes. William
would not yield them a foot of ground; and England began
to take an interest in the struggle, of which she had hitherto
been rather an unconcerned spectator than a sharer. The
national spirit of fair play was roused up to see the only champion of the cause of freedom overwhelmed by superior forces.
A diversion was made in his favour on the real battle-field of
English fame: vast fleets were fitted out, and traversed the
sea in all directions.  Calais, and Havre, and Dunkirk were
bombardedcl, and Dieppe nearly reduced to ashes. William
gained fresh vigour on land from the triumphs of the navy,
and from other quarters clouds at the same moment came
over the French cause. Luxemburg died, and left no successor worthy of his post. Louvois, a still heavier bereavement, had left his country without a competent administrator
of its military force; a famine fell upon the land; the vigorous youth of the provinces was utterly exhausted; money it
was impossible to raise; and Louis, with the joy-bells for
victories sounding in his ears, knew that the end was come.
He appeared no more with his armies in the field, but became
more strict in religious ceremonial and in devotion to Madame
de Maintenon.  William pushed forward, with unaccustomed
hope; he besieged and took Namur, in spite of the resistance
of a numerous garrison, and the threatening position of a
covering army of a hundred thousand men. By this wonderful achievement he raised the common estimation of his military skill and reputation; for it was the first time that any
of his continental deeds was gilded by the glory of success.
News at the same time came frowning over the sea that the
only French settlement in Hindostan, Pondicherry, which the
great Colbert had planted as the stepping-stone to great
commercial results, was seized on by the Dutch, and that the
best of the French islands, St. Domingo, was wasted and
ravaged by the English.  Reprisals were attempted against
these maritime powers, but no longer by the regular navy of
France. It is an evident sign of national weakness when the




374               PEACE OF RYSNWICK.           [A. D. 1697:
sufferings and losses of a country are revenged by private
hands.  There were privateers from  St. Malo, like Duguy
Trouin, and corsairs like Jean Barte, who fitted out vessels
and insulted the unarmed shores of Jamaica, and even made
a dash on the treasures of Carthagena.  But these desultory
efforts had no effect upon the war.  When we consider the
condition of French affairs at this time-the impoverishment
of Louis's finances, the wretchedness of his people, the disappearance of his fleets, the loss of his greatest generals and
wisest counsellors-we shall not be surprised at his turning a
longing eye to the possibilities of a peace.  But we shall be
greatly surprised —unless we take  into  consideration the
blinding effects of his former pre-eminence-to see that he
assumed all the airs of a conqueror using his power with the
most generous moderation, in the terms he offered to Europe.
Europe was as anxious for repose as he was, because she had
never been anxious for war. The Peace of Ryswick, therefore, was universally hailed with joy. It gave back all the
Flemish and other conquests of the French; it recognised
W~illiam as the true king of Great Britain and Ireland; it
demolished the fortifications of the frontier towns, on which
so much science and money had been lavished; and, finally,
Europe returned to the position it had been in nine years before —exhausted now of men, and wealth, and happiness, with
many wide tracts of land made forever incapable of cultivation, and many flourishing cities reduced to a heap of ruins.
The cause of all these woes conveniently forgot everything
except that he was the first who proposed to put an end to
them; and the salaried historians and slavish poets of the
tilme sang in all tongues and nations the praises of the magnificent king who was deaf to the call of ambition, and listened only to the sweet voice of pity and compassion.
His people, however, were too much depressed to give
way to rejoicings on the restoration of peace. The sacrifices
hlad been so heavy that they destroyed the elasticity of the nation's resources as well as of its animal spirits.  The Frenchroan became less mercurial and more thoughtful than he had




A. D. 1698.]    PRIVATE LIFE OF LOUIS.             375
been before; and the king, whether from advancing years or
the necessity of retrenchment, curtailed the costly splendour
of his domestic circle, which perhaps had hidden from him the
sufferings of his subjects in the glare of his attendants' prosperity. He sank more and more under the domination of
Madame de,Maintenon; and as he could no longer give the
law to subject Europe, he indemnified himself with the most
rigid government of his court and -family. His habits were
fixed with the regularity of the heavenly motions, and were
loo1ked up to with the same admiration by the smart astronomers of the bedchamber and audience hall. If there were
injured cities in the Low Countries, or impoverished farms upon
the Rhine, their hatred might have been appeased if they had
iknown the degrading miseries of their destroyer's private life.
Summoned at a certain hour from his morning sleep-dressed
by duke and marquis-led by chamberlain and marshal, and
surrounded at breakfast by lord and lady —preceded, attended.
followed by some hundreds of greedy courtiers and other expectants of his favour, as he passed from his apartments to
the palace chapel-waited on in his walks-watcbed in all
his actions-never alone, never natural-never off the stagethe poor old man was as great a prisoner in his golden chains
as any culprit in the galleys. He knew the atmosphere he
breathed in —of false praise, secret enmity, grovelling meanness, and utter depravity of life-and yet could breathe no
other.
The majestic fabric of Versailles, which was a triumph
for the Peace of Nimeguen, was a libel on the Peace of
Ryswick; and complaints were heard, or suspected, against
the magnificence of the royal establishment while poverty
was eating into the comfort of every cottage in the land.
Louis would not confess to himself that he had lived too long,
and that he was the survivor of' a state of things which had
passed away. He still spoke with the voice of the master of
Colbert and Louvois, and Turenne and Luxemburg; and
turned his eyes to Spain, as he had formerly done to the
Netherlands, forgetting that the instruments of his formei




376         WILL OF THE KING OF SPAIN.   [A. D. 1698
greatness had broken in his hands. His wife, 3Maria Theresa,
had long been dead (1683); and now her brother, the feeble
Charles the Second, was about to follow. Every politician in
Christendom was on the alert for the expected event. Maria
Theresa, we remember, had renounced her claim; her sister
had married the Emperor Leopoldl; and though the ceremony
of renunciation had been omitted at the time of the union,
the Emperor had forced his only daughter by the Spanish
princess to renounce all the rights derivable through her
mother on her betrothal to the Elector of Bavaria.  Of this
Bavarian marriage there was a son. All parties, indeed,
seemed to have insurmountable obstacles in the way of their
accession; and Louis, perhaps to blind the eyes of England
and Holland to his possible proceedings, entered into a secret
treaty with William and the United Provinces for the distribution of the Spanish monarchy, as if it had been the prizemoney of a captured town. It is amusing to see our wary
constitutional king, and the wary republican high mightinesses of Holland, giving countries here and countries there,
without the least reference to the populations, or deigning to
consult them as to their wishes on the point. France was to
have the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily; Austria was to
have the Milanese; and the young Prince of Bavaria to have
the kingdom of Spain, the Low Countries, and the American
colonies. But the young Prince of Bavaria died in 1700, and
the web had all to be spun again. The Archduke Charles
of Austria, second son of the Emperor, was now to have the
share of the late Bavarian; France was to have the Two
Sicilies and Lorraine; but Louis, who was fond of' bestowing
kingdoms which did not belong to him, generously offered to
give the kingdom of the Two Sicilies to the Duke of Savoy,
in exchange for his hereditary duchy and the territory of Nice.
WYhen this last arrangement was concluded, the contracting
parties waited patiently for the demise of Charles of Spain;
but Charles of Spain was not so weak as he had been thoutght.
He was offended at this sharing of his spoils before he was
buried, and wrote a will. This will was the most important




A. D. 1698.]  mHE PYRENEES ARE NO MORE.           377
document of the time. Its object was to secure the integrity
of the Spanish realm. Spain, whatever happened, was to be
mistress of all her subject crowns; she was to have Milan
and the Sicilies, the Low Countries, and the Indies. He
would not have his country a dependency of France, by leaving it to the heir of that monarchy; nor of the Empire, by
leaving it to the eldest son of Leopold; nor a prey to intestine division or foreign war, by leaving it in fragments, as
proposed by William and the Provinces. He left it to the
Duke of Anjou, second son of the Dauphin; failing him, to
his brother the Duke of Berri; failing him, to the Archduke
Charles; and failing him, to the Duke of Savoy. He let
each of the competitors have a distant view of the inheritance; but the inheritance was to continue whole and undivided. The treaty of partition, however, was still in existence,
duly signed and executed; and William and the Provinces
waited to see how nobly Louis would fulfil the conditions, and
preserve the balance of power in Europe, by not allowing the
greatest monarchy of Christendom to fall into the hands of
either a French or German prince.
Louis, on the 16th November, 1700, got up and dressed
himself with care. He summoned the Marquis of Castel
Rios, the Spanish ambassador, into his presence, and, at
the same moment, his grandson, the Duke of Anjou, entered
the apartment by another door. " Behold your monarch!"
he exclaimed to the Spaniardl, who fell upon his knees and
kissed the young man's hand. The great doors were then
flung wide, and the crowds in the outer gallery came forward
to see what was going on. The old king said, " Gentlemen,
I present to you the King of Spain; his birth entitles him
to the crown; the late king has left it to him by will; the
nation demands him,-I have yielded to its demand. —
Sir," he added, turning to the King of Spain, " be a good
Spaniard-that is now your first duty; your next is to remember that you are a born Frenchman; the Pyrenees have
disappeared! " France heard the declaration with very different feelings from those which found expression in the cheers




378          MARLBOROUGH AND EUGENE.   [A. D. 1702
and applauses of the auditors of this speech.  To lift away
the Pyrenees, she felt, would exhaust her enfeebled strength;
for it was certain that England, and Holland, and the Empire, would resist with all their power this effort to remove
the landmarks set up by nature herself. And, in accordance
with these sad forebodings, the War of the Succession began
Thirteen years of the greatest sufferings which France had
hitherto endured-of defeat in the field and discontent at
home-were the terrible payment which she made for the
glory her sovereign had arrogated to himself of creating a
King of Spain.
People acquiesced in this unexpected proceeding for a
time.  Surprise paralysed the other parties to the secret
treaty, and William and the Provinces went so far as to recognise the new king. The Emperor was indignant, but felt
himself too weak to take active steps to assert his son's rights.
And it was at this critical moment that Louis irritated
the Crown and people of England by acknowledging the son
of James the Second. He paid him a formal visit at St.
Germains, on the death of his father, in 1701, and addressed
him  as James the Thirdcl. The maker of two monarchs
thought he was renewing the great days of his youth, when
he distributed ranks and territories as he chose; but different
enemies were round him  now. William, the calm placid
Dutchman, who concealed beneath that impassive exterior
the soul of a hero of romance, burned with the double indignation of a king and a soldier. Insulted by the recognition
of his rival claimant to the throne, he felt there was now a
fair field for the display of his military talents, and a chance
of repaying the wrongs he had suffered at the hands of the
haughty Frenchman. But, in the midst of his hopes and
preparations, he died. Two men, however, rose in his place
-one the greatest general, except one, in the annals of England-John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough; the other,
Prince Eugene of Savoy. Equally unfortunate in the case
of these two irresistible commanders, Louis remembered that
the Englishman had obtained his scientific experience under




A. D. 172.]      THE COMBATANTS.                 379
Cond6l and Turenne, and that he had rejected the services
of Eugene when he applied for a colonelcy in his guards, and
threw him, disappointed and irritated, into the hands of the
Emperor.
Englandcl, Holland, the Empire, Prussia, Denmark, and
Hanover, supported the claims of the Emperor's second son
as King of Spain. He issued his orders and bestowed his
decorations under the name of Charles the Third. Spain,
France, and some of the Italian powers, drew swordcl for the
king's grandson, who coined his doubloons and appointed to
his armies as Philip the Fifth. Louis was defeated in all his
plans. Marlborough sent his marshals in headlong flight
from  Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde,  and Malplaquet.
Gibraltar was wrested for ever from Spain, and attached to
England. His fleets were burnt at Vigo, and Toulon was
besieged by sea and land. His grandson was driven from
Madrid by the genius of Peterborough, and became a fugitive
in his own nominal kingdom. Prince Eugene in the mean
time crushed the French power in Italy, and approached the
boundaries of France. And when the clouds were heaviest
upon the outward prospects of his country, the old man's
house was made more desolate than any of the cottages he
had ruined in the Palatinate or ravaged in the Cevennes, by
the entrance of death into the gilded halls of Versailles.
The Dauphin, his son, died in 1711. The Duke of Burgundy, his grandson, and the duchess, followed their father
within the year. The Duke of Brittany, now heir to the
crown, and only five years old, died at the same time, and
nobody remained in the direct line of succession to the old
man of seventy-four but the Dauphin's third son, afterwards
Louis the Fifteenth, a child in arms. While these reiterated
blows were breaking the spirit of the king, and rousing a
superstitious feeling in the nation that the end of their career
was come, a gleam of light slowly broke forth from a death in
another quarter; for the dread summons was delivered to the
Emperor Joseph, who had succeeded his father Leopold' in
1705, and followed him to the tomb in 1711. At. first it




380               PEACE OF UTRECHT.          [A. D. 1714
made little change in the proceedings of Eugene. That
greatest of soldiers passed across the boundary line and trod
the sacred territory of the great nation. Louis was advised
to retire to the Loire, but refused, and said he would mount
his horse and die in battle rather than appear to yield. But
the Tories of England took a politic view of the Emperor
Joseph's death. They thought, why should we go on fighting on behalf of Charles the Third of Spain, who by the demise of his brother, is Emperor of Germany?  Was it wise to
resist Philip the Fifth for fear of the union of Spain and
France, and now to persist in supporting the Austrian's claims
with the certainty of seeing the Empire and Spain in the
same hands? The Tories did not care much for the military
glories of Mlarlborough, for they hated him as a renegade from
their principles, and the meanest and most unscrupulous of
mankind. At the end, therefore, of the thirteen years, Louis
was surprised to find his nomination to the Spanish crown
ratified by the English and Dutch. He attained the barren
glory of having a grandson on the throne of the Castiles, but
the Pyrenees remained as abrupt and mountainous as ever;
for Philip made formal renunciation of his rights to France
-a renunciation registered in the parliaments of Paris and
Madrid-and the Peace of Utrecht was signed in 1714.
By this England obtained many advantages.  She retained
Minorca in addition to Gibraltar, which gave her the command of the Mediterranean.  She gained also the immeasurable territories of Hudson's Bay, Newfoundland, and Acadia,
which made her paramount in North America. Austria kept
possession of the Milanese and Naples; and Philip contented
himself with the kingdom of Spain and the Transatlantic
possessions of the Crown.
It was time the great War of the Succession should come
to an end. A great change had taken place in the mind of
France.  The magnificence of the early years of Louis had
turned men's thoughts only into the channels of glory and
ostentation.  The ascetic severity, with the religious intolerance, of his advancing age, divided his court into the two




A.. D1714.]      DUKE OF ORLEANS.                 38SL
parties most fatal to a nation's happiness, the conscientious
bigots and the men without a faith. Yet in outward observance there was no distinction between the two. No meeting of enthusiasts at an American revival showed deeper signs
of devotion and contrition than the powdered and ribanded
gentlemen and ladies who worshipped beside the king; no
assemblage of avowed atheists and unbelievers could have
equalled those same personages, when they met at supper in
their luxurious apartments or paraded on the broad terraces
of Versailles, in their sneers and epigrams against all that was
pure and holy. But even the external observances imposed
on them by the solemnity of the aged pair, who were strict
to mark any levity of behaviour, however blind or indulgent
they might be to the real vices of their attendants, became a
weary servitude to the gay and young. They looked forward
to happier times when hypocrisy would not be required, and
when they would be encouraged in their greatest excesses by
the example of the wielder of the royal power. On the outside of the courtly circle, deeply suspected of the most hideous
crimes, and tolerated solely in consideration of his rank, was
the Duke of Orleans, next in blood to the future king, and
entitled on that account to the approaching regency-a man
whose talent for society and freedom from all restraints would
have made him merely the model of wit and wickedness if he
had been born in a lower station, but whose character
promised a complete realisation of the wildest dreams of
luxury and abandonment when the reins of power were in his
hands. Louis saw before his successor the dreadful prospect
of a guide and governor in the person of the most fascinating
and most debauched man of his time. He tried to guard
against the danger by appointing a council of government;
and farther to prevent the accession of the hated nephew, if
his youthful charge should be removed —and Orleans was not
only considered capable of any enormity of the kind, but was
widely suspected of having already cleared a way for himself
to the throne by the mysterious deaths of so many members of
the royal line within the last few years-he nominated to the




382                DEATH OF LOUIS.            [A. D. 1715
succession two of his natural sons, whom he had long ago
legitimated by royal edict, and created Duke of Maine and
Count of Toulouse.  Town, court, and country were revolted
at the notion of seeing those base-born and unpopular persons
on the throne of St. Louis. Better the vices and joyous improprieties of the great-grandson of Henry the Fourth, than
all the upstart insolence of the children of Frances AthenaYs
de Montespan.  People gathered round the coach of the old
king as he travelled from Paris to Versailles, not to hail him
with loud acclamation, or even respectful silence, but to count
the growing care-lines on his face, and to calculate how long
he would still survive. He did not survive long.  Theatrical,
even in the realities of life, to the last, he summoned a party
round his bed on the 15th August, 1715, when the physicians
had.declared his state hopeless, and in their presence made
a speech to his successor, a terrified little boy of five years
old, who comprehended nothing of the exhortations addressed
to him. lHe bade him take warning by his example, not to
devote the public revenue to war or buildings.  " It is the
ruin of a nation. I have often commenced a war too lightly,"
he said,'" and continued it for vanity. All your happiness will
depend on your submission to God and the care you bestow
on your people."  These were almost his last words, and on
the 1st of September he died —the last survivor of the period
to which he had given his name, for with Louis the Fourteenth the " age of Louis the Fourteenth" expired.
The great characteristic of this age is its artificiality.  In
everything-in poetry, painting, ordinary conversation, gardening-in the highest and the lowest, the effort was to avoid the
simplicities of nature, and make an ostentatious display of the
resources of art.  The government of one man, planted in
unapproachable supremacy on the throne of twenty millions
of people, distributing the blessings of law and safety by a
line of servitors all deriving their authority from the Crown,
and forming one unbroken chain from the chancellor or marshal of France to the usher of a local court, or the corporal of
a company in a regiment; this was so artificial a system



A. D. 1715.]         LITERATURE.                   383
perplexed with so many difficulties, and therefore strengthened by so many regulations-that routine ancl custom banished every motion of spontaneity or independence.  This
slavish subjection to established fobrms extended, we have
said, to literature and art. The Crown became strengthened
by the definiteness of the duties of all inferior offices; and the
throne itself was forced to gain a condensation of power and
interest, by a rigid adherence to the rules laid down for its
direction. Not more despotic was Louis, or more unbending
in the demarcation of the powers of his subordinates, than
Boileau, the great critic and satirist of the time, was in the
exaction of a certain style, of which the limits were arbitrarily
fixed by himself, for dramatist and poet. There was to be no
undress-no familiarity-no touch of nature making the
whole world kin; but the hero of Greece was to be my Lord
Achilles of Phthia; Hecuba was to be Madame, and Iphigenia, Mademoiselle. It is wonderful to behold at a pantomime what prodigious activity, and even what grace can be
shown in a dance in fetters; and no one can deny the possession of genius-even dramatic genius-of the highest order to
Corneille and Racine; but it will be sufficient to mark our
present and wiser appreciation of the impediments which interfered with those great men's motions, to mention the judgments passed by the best critics in France on Shakespeare.
To call him a savage was the mildest form of objection.  He
was too shocking in his tragedies to be sympathised with, and
too vulgar in his comedies to be understood.  The difficulty
of bending the long formal Alexandrines, in which their plays
are written, with the flexible grace of easy or natural conversation, was held forth as an additional advantage of the
French style over the negligent facility of Shakespeare's
versification, as it presented greater labour to be endured, and
greater triumph to be gained. How long this adherence to
the Louis the Fourteenth dignity might have lasted, it is impossible to say; for the traditions of the great monarch survived the Revolution, and received a kind of pinchbeck renewal in the days of the first Empire; but it was only when




384                    MIEMOIRS.              [A. D. 1715
parliamentary government was established, and debates in the
Chambers equalled in intensity of interest the finest passages
on the stage, that a new race of dramatists arose in the land,
who spoke in the language of ordinary life, and surpassed at
one bound the stately declamations and rounded periods of
their powdered and periwigged predecessors. Even while retaining their cumbrous versification, they out-shakespeared
Shakespeare in their disdain of theatrical conventionalities,
and strove to become natural, as the highest effort of their
skill.
One good effect, however, proceeded from this fixedness
of rule which petrified the higher productions of Louis the
Fourteenth's time. People could not be always writing about
kings and queens; and if they wanted to mention minute circumstances-the dress of a heroic soldier, the beauty of a
reigning toast, or the petty intrigues of the court, by which
great events were produced-they were driven into the form
of letters or memoirs; a style of composition in which the
French have never had any rivals, and from which we at this
moment derive all the information worth having on the habits
and thoughts of the time. Everybody was charmed with the
elegant gossip and the familiar recollections of the fair leaders
of the fashions and politics of the hour. The easiness of the
style was so admirably adapted to the frivolity of the events,
that it required neither criticism nor exertion to enter into
its merits; whereas the professed historian, who always wrote
in ruffles and silk stockings, was read by an admiring and
fastidious public, who always dressed itself in buckram and
brocade. Each branch of letters had its glorious chief, who
had given the model of that kind of composition; and Boileau
had threatened death and destruction to any one who departed from the mould. Racine was so painfully perfect that it
was high treason to hint a fault, and positive rebellion to depart from his example. Tragedy, therefore, became as monotonous as a range of Assyrian kings, whose sculptors thought
it i.mpiety to give the slightest variety to their royal features.
But it was theology which felt most the impress of that inex



A. D. 1715.]           BOSSUET.                    385
orable and exacting age.  No pulpits have ever shaken to
greater eloquence than those in which Bourdaloue, Bossuet,
and Massillon, delivered their holy message. The message,
however, was dressed in the livery of the court, and spoken
in the ears of princes and courtiers, with bated breath and
whispering humbleness. Highest of these-boldest in language-loftiest in idea-was Bossuet, the Bishop of Meaux;
but his boldness of language was in praise of the king; his
loftiness of idea, the elevation of the royal power. To attain
that object he drew up the articles of the modern liberties of
the Gallican Church, which took away the unquestioned supremacy and possible tyranny of the Pope, and transferred
both-the unquestioned supremacy and the possible tyranny
— into the hands of Louis. His natural impetuosity and
haughtiness, along with the craven submission of his mind to
established authority, threw him into perpetual contradictions
with himself. Zealous adherent of his Church, and advocate
of blind obedience to her commands, he aided in overthrowing
her reign when she came into contact with the pride of his
imperious master. Proud of his illustrious pupil, the saintly
F6nelon, he wrote against him, appealed against him, and
caballed against him, when he suspected him of faltering in
the orthodoxy of his Catholic opinions, and succeeded in having him condemned by the Pope and humiliated by a public
recantation. Yet there was no relenting in that impenetrable
bosom; he rejected the advances of the man who was at that
time the greatest ornament, not only of the Church of France
but of Christianity itself. The Eagle of Meaux, as Bossuet
was called, old and worn out, died unforgiving and unreconciled (1704). He died wasting his last strength in mounting
stairs to waylay the king with his petitions, and to catch one
other glimpse of the heavenly countenance which had been
to him as the face of an angel. But his favour was past.
Madame de Maintenon disliked and feared him. He had
descended to the indignity of patching up the quarrels between Louis and his former favourite, Madame de MIontespan;
but secure in her character of wife, she did not require his as25




386                    HIS DEATH.               [A. D. 1715.
sistance, and contented herself with the interested services
and low intelligence of her confessor, Pere la Chaise.  In
neglect, and even in penury, the great preacher, the universal
author, the deep scholar, brought his troubled ancld imany-colourecl life to a close.  He lived just long enough to perceive
the nothingness of all his toils.  He had advocated the revocation of the Edict of Nantes; had received accounts of the
massacres which Louis perpetrated by his dragonnades acainst
the recusant Huguenots, and his cruelties among the enthusiasts of the Cevennes, with almost idolatrous gratulations;
had written a book proving the falsity of the Relormed religion, from the disagreements on points of doctrine amrong the
Protestants themselves, in the midst of the quarrels of Jesuit
and Jansenist, of Gallican and Roman, of the envenomed advocates of the different views of grace, and of the ferocious
enmities of the maintainers of predestination or free-will; and
he now expired with the infuriated exiles he had helped to
expel on the borders of the kingdoml sword in handl, and the
people on whom he had bestowed so many lessons in the art
of hating their heretical countrymen on the very eve of throwing off religion altogether.  Bossuet has been dwelt on at
some length as the representative of the ecclesiastic spirit of
the time. In his dignity of demeanour and pomp of language,
no less than in his crouching abasement before power, and
pitiless support of authority, we trace the working of the great
king's character on the highest intellects, as well as on the
masses of his people. In every thing t;he same influence is to
be seen.  Walking amid the straight avenues and stately
terraces of the palace of Versailles, on which he expended
upwards of sixteen millions sterling  casting your eye over
its immense proportions, its formal lines and rigid uniformity
of design, you almost fancy you can see in stone and mortar,
in alley and parterre, a reproduction of the age of Louis the
Fourteenth.  A grave solemnity and imposing grandeur still
haunt the long-drawn corridors and dimly-lighted halls of
that prodigious residence.  The width of the walks, the gigantic scale of plantation and enclosure, the canal-like regu



A. D. 1715.]           VERISAILLES.                   387
larity of the lakes, and laborious artificiality of fountain and
waterfall, all these remind you of the effect of lavished wealth
and anti-natural effort.  The vast place, with all its symmetry and grandeur, seems an embodiment of the fixed and
ostentatious monarchy by which it was created.  Versailles
will be for ever a protest against the liberties of France and
its occasional outcries for Equality and Fraternity; for it
bears in every line the impress of a grand and overbearing
despotism, where the destinies of the whole nation are intrusted to a single man.  It must have been on taking possession
of the untasteful but immeasurable mansion, that the king
felt in his inflated heart the sentiment to which he gave frequent utterance, " L'etat c'est moi "-I am the State.




CHAPTER XVI.
LOUCIS THE FIFTEENTH.-REGENCY OF THE DUKE OF ORLEANS, A.D.
1715 TO 1723. —1723 TO 1774.
AT the moment when Louis, on his deathbed, was expressing
his sorrow at having been the cause of unnecessary wars, his
conscience must have reproached him with the proceedings he
had encouraged in Scotland. Anne, the English queen, had
died in August, 1714. Selfish enough to persist in excluding
her brother from the throne during her own life, she had family affection or family pride sufficient to desire his re-establishment when her reign should end. There were cabals, treacheries, conspiracies on all sides, not without the knowledge of
the weak-minded queen and her unprincipled ministers, in favour of James the Third, who had assumed the title on the
death of his father in 1701; and Louis, yielding to the same
mad ambition of king-making which had thrown him into the
war of the Spanish Succession, furnished money, which he was
fain to borrow, and promises-of which he had a more plentiful
supply —to the infatuated young man in making an invasion
on the coasts of Great Britain, a few months after George of
Hanover had assumed his seat on the constitutional throne.
The effect of the death of the great supporter of despotism
was felt in the north of Scotland the moment it was known.
James the Third slipped safely back to France, leaving his
gallant adherents to perish on the English scaffolds, and disappeared from history in the dimness of his retreat in a little
town in Lorraine. His name occasionally rises to the surface,
according as the enemies of England find it useful as a threat




A. D. 1718.]       ALBERONI' S PLANS.               389
against her repose; but the first application of it to a political purpose, showed also how impossible it is for policy to
contend with geography, for Spain and France were proved
even then to be more divided by the barrier mountains than
united by the relationship of their killngs.  The Spanish mlinister, Alberoni, had reduced the expenditure of his country,
and had filled the treasury.  Great things entered his mind
as soon as he found himself freed from debt, and he proposed
to enlist the military services of the famous Charles the
Twelfth of Sweden, in restoring the exiled monarch of England to his throne. He proposed also to encourage the Turks
to attack the Emperor; and he tried to create a civil war in
France. When the Christian prelate had completed the plan
of these benevolent measures, he despatched a Spanish expedition to seize Sardinia, and an army at the same time to
take possession of the island of Sicily.  All nations were
roused at the sight of so much insolence and injustice; and the
first spectacle which the promoters of the Spanish accession
of Philip the Fifth and the restoration of the Stuarts saw,
after the death of Louis, was a combination against Spain, of
France under the Regent Orleans, and England under George
the First. To complete the amazing contrast between the
two periods, Marshal the Duke of Berwick, son of James the
Second, was sent into Spain at the head of a French army to
overthrow Philip the Fifth, the grandson of Louis the Fourteenth.  Towns were taken, and provinces seized. England
regained her old supremacy on the sea, and Admiral Byng
exterminated the fleets of Spain in the Straits of Messina.
Alberoni saw the badness of the move he had made, and
patched up a dishonourable peace. England was glad to
sheathe the sword to consolidate her domestic quiet; and
France was in such a dream of prosperity, such a fairyland of
hope and brilliancy, that the grim realities of war had scarcely
ruffled her repose.
Philip of Orleans, nephew of Louis the Fourteenth, and
now ruler of the kingdom, saw nothing in glory but an interference with his pleasures, and nothing in supreme power be



390                 LAW'S SCHEME.            [A. D. 1718
yond the means of gratifying his tastes for luxury and expense.
The extravagances of wickedness perceived in the Roman
Emperors were revived in the person of the grandson of Henry
the Fourth, and pupil of Dubois. This was a man who seems
to have been permitted upon the earth for the purpose of showing to what depths of infamy a human being could descend.
Originally a menial servant in one of the colleges, he had been
promoted to be sub-tutor to the Duke of Orleans when a boy.
Worming himself into his pupil's favour by the basest compliance with all his wishes-aiding him in his profligacy, and
encouraging him in his blasphemy and infidelity-he had risen
to be abb6, bishop, cardinal, and prime-minister of France.
Luxurious as his master, he had the essentials of vice without
the refinement that makes it less dangerous to the mass, and
without the decencies of concealment which betray a consciousness of wrong. Open in his iniquities, loud in his sneers
at holy things, the Cardinal Dubois lavished the resources of
the State at the same rate as the equally wicked but more
popular prince. When those two sated voluptuaries and very
needy politicians saw the approach of national bankruptcy
with a dismay which arose from the certainty that the bankruptcy would end in revolution, they were enraptured with
the appearance in Paris of a Scotch gentleman of the name of
Law, -wNho promised them unbounded wealth, and the country
endless prosperity, if they would only adopt his scheme. It
would be difficult to name any scheme, attended by such
promises, which would have been rejected by Orleans and
Dubois. The scheme was simply this: To institute a Papercurrency resting for its security on some imaginary gold and
silver mines on the banks of the Mississippi.  But the delusion took: the Company of the WVest, as the joint-stock
bank was called, could scarcely find clerks enough to deliver
its scrip in return for solid coin. Shares went up twenty,
thirty, a hundred, and at last three hundred per cent.
Princesses, duchesses, ambassadors of foreign kings, crowded
the antechambers of Law, the great financier; and the prince
and cardinal filled their purses on the credulity of the people.




A. D. 1719.1      THE BUBBLE BURSTS.                  391
The ships, however, laden with gold, never sailed into port;
the silver mines of Louisiana yielded no increase. A clamour
began to be felt, and the Prince Regent took the most ludicrous means to appease it.  He published an order that no
one should keep in purse or drawer more than twenty pounds
ill cash, under a penalty of forfeiture of some share of it to
any one who could prove the crime.  Much money came into
the bank under this threat; but ten times more was buried
or went into foreign states. Then there was a law reducing
the rate of interest; and finally, when the breakdown was
unavoidable, and all the gold in Europe would scarcely have
paid for the nominal value of the shares, preparations were
made for a bankruptcy according to the sections of a royal
edict.  The shares were to fall gradually; they were to sink
month by month till finally they stopped at half their original
price.  There they were to remain, and all would be well as
far as a royal edict could make it so.
But panics are above royal edicts, or even acts of parliament, and the shares fell to nothing.  Thousands of families
were ruined: provisions rose in price; anger took possession
of the offended multitudes, and Law escaped with the greatest difficulty with his life.  It is only just to add that the
projector was a believer in his own project, and carried nothing
with him  into his miserable exile at Venice but his poverty and broken hopes.  Meanwhile Orleans and Dubois cont:inued to the outraged citizens the spectacle of their vices
and crimes.  All orders in the State felt the effect of the
irecent speculation; high and low had equally sold their indclependtence and honesty in pursuit of that sordid iMammon;
and so thoroughly was thewhole mass of society saturated
with a spirit of gamibling and intrigue-of base submission
to those who could aid their fortunes, and insane contempt
for those who would rebuke their excesses-that, on calmly
looking back to that periol, with its heartless glitter and
utter prostration of the loftier faculties of the mind, we see
no refilue for the past nor prospect for the future, but somel
great convulsion, which shall free us from the ungodliness of'




392        LOUIS DECLARES HIS MAJORITY.  [A. D. 1723
priests, the infamy of nobles, the profligacy of women, and
the hopelessness of a brutalisedl and trampled people. This
was still far off, and totally unnoticed till it actually appeared: but it was coming. Debasing tyranny like Louis
the Fourteenth's, degrading viciousness like Orleans's and
Dubois's, and the wider and more systematic demoralisation
introduced by the king, who was now ready to assume the
sceptre, could not fail, sooner or later, to produce fruits worthy of the altogether corrupted tree which had been planted
in such soil and tended by such hands.
In 1723 the vain ceremony was gone through of taking
Louis the Fifteenth, in his fourteenth year, to a Bed of Justice, and proclaiming his majority. He had been consecrated
at Rheims the year before. The office of regent was now at
an end, but the influence of Orleans remained in quality of
prime-minister. It is pleasant to get to the close of so disgraceful a period as the regency of Philip and the career of
Dubois.  That unregretted adventurer came to his end,
brought on by the debaucheries of his life, in August, 1723;,and in four months he was followed by his congenial pupil,,who died of apoplexy on the 2d of December.
The Duke of Bourbon, who was appointed premier, was a
far stupider man than the Duke of Orleans, and quite as depraved in character.  The Parisians were now treated to the
sight of magnificence without taste, and luxury without refinement.  The thinking portion of them were farther scanclalised by the dreadful severities exercised against the Protestants by this man of no faith. An edict of intolerable
harshness, in 1724, recalled the memory of the worst days of
the Revocation; and at this very time the Church itself was
divided into hostile camps, which threatened  vengeance
against each other and the abrogation of even the forms of.religion throughout the territories of France. The Duke did
not pretend to be a politician, and left the cares of state to
his favourites, who, as usually happens in cases of this sort,
were persons of the lowest rank.  One of these, who called
herself the Marchioness de Prie, persuaded him  that the




A. D. 1724.]      CARDINAL FLEURY.                  393
surest way to retain his power would be to bind the consort of
the king to his cause by the chains of gratitude and interest.
She advised him, therefore, to send back the little Spanish
princess who had been received and lodged at the Louvre in
1722, in the character of future queen, and put some person
in her place who would be mindful of the obligation. With
this view the insolent adviser presented herself to the sister
of the Duke, in order to make her the offer of the crown; but
was received with such haughty severity and contemptuous
pride, that she left the princess to her solitary grandeur, and
bestowed the hand of the king of France in a very different
quarter.
The favoured candidate was the daughter of a simple and
excellent gentleman who had been presented with the crown
of Poland by Charles of Sweden, and stripped of it again by
Catherine of Russia. He was now living in obscurity at
Weissenburg, on the borders of Alsace, and was on the point
of bestowing his daughter on a colonel of his acquaintance
when the flattering offer of the Marchioness de Prie changed
all his plans.  Marie Leezinski, the daughter of the discrowned Stanislaus, was elevated to the highest rank in Europe, when her husband was but fifteen years old, and Bourbon expected interminable gratitude from the new queen.
She was, however, of a dull and unimpressible disposition,
and had no room in her heart for either gratitude or hatred.
The insult bestowed on Spain was certain to lead to war, war
to increased taxation, and increased taxation to-nobody
could say what. So the Duke of Bourbon was banished to
his estates, and an aged churchman of seventy-three, who had
been preceptor to the king, was installed as prime-minister,
and the peace-loving administration of Cardinal Fleury began.
Peace-loving, but not peace maintaining; for the powers in
a few years became embroiled beyond the possibility of reconciliation.  Hostilities with Spain were indeed avoided, in the
meantime, by apologies for the sending back of the princess;
with England, by a rigorous non-interference with her superiority at sea; with the Emperor, by withdrawing all designs




394                     VOLTAIRE.              [A. D. 1672.
upon Italy; and with the rest of the world, by gentleness,and forbearance.  A kind, good old man, who hated war as a
Christian, and feared it, in the present state of French feeling, as a politician; he feared it also-and his enemies said
still more-for the chance it would bring of his own dismissal
from power, and the substitution of a younger and more vigorous rival; for, in spite of his priestly profession, and his
outward humility, and declarations of disinterestedness, it was
believed that ambition never burned more fiercely in Wolsey
or Richelieu' than in the breast of that meek-looking, lowvoiced, gentle-eyed old man.
Skilfully remaining ignorant of the infamous excesses in
which his pupil indulged, he kept the noiseless tenor of his
way, encouraging peaceful enterprise, and devoting himself
to the material prosperity of his country. To maintain quiet
he would sacrifice anything-the glory of his nation, a very
common cry in French history, to the domineering haughtiness of England; the liberties of the Gallican Church to the
ultra-montanism of the Jesuits.  But good crops and cheap
provisions, and lightened taxation, are powerful supports to
a minister against the attacks of patriots and liberals. Voltaire had already established himself as the first wit in Europe, and the most dangerous enemy of all sorts of authority
which did not repose on the bayonets of a powerful army.
tHe had already tasted the sweets of living under a censorship of the press and a timid old cardinal, by having been
twice imprisoned in the Bastile, and once banished to London.  His sayings, his writings, his sneers and sarcasms, were
recognised as one of the powers in the State; and even at this
early time we may divide the influential classes in Paris into
the nobility, the churchmen, and the philosophers.
A spirit of ribaldry and disregard of the sanctions of religion pervaded the wonderful literature which now began to
make its appearance-a literature with a fresher life in it than
the formal correctness of the masterpieces of Louis the Fourteenth's time would have allowed.  Running over with the
ebullitions of a newly-discovered power —handling the highest




A, D. 1733.]        MARIA THERESAX                   395
speculations which can occupy the mind of man with a lightness of touch and brilliancy of expression which brought themn
within the observation of the most careless reader; —-over all
-over the wit of Voltaire and the elegance of La Fontaine,
the brilliant solidity of Montesquieu and the dreamy rhapsodies of Rousseau —was poured forth the jeering and contemptuous conviction of the unreality of all human endeavours,
which Goethe has since that time embodied in his MIephistopheles.  All the fiery youth of gentle birth and no occupation
were devoted in a short time to the two absorbing desires of
throwing off the vulgar obligations of a worn-out superstition,
and flourishing their swords in a field of battle.  Fleury, a
priest and pacificator, had no mercy to expect from  these
quick-wi-tted, out-spoken young gentlemen; and perhaps
even the war-detesting Cardinal was not sorry when a safetyvalve was opened in 1733 to the irrepressible activity of a
new generation, which had never known the sufferings of' the
Iast years of the grand monarch's reign.  This was the death
of Augustus the Second, whom  Russia had placed on the
throne of Poland when Stanislaus was expelled.  Stanislaus,
it was felt by every one, was now in a very different position
from that he had held before.  He was now father-in-law of
the King of France, and that wearied voluptuary was not yet
so entirely sated by his debaucheries as to be beyond the ambition of following his grandfather's trade in repairing the
broken fortunes of kings.  Charles the Sixth (the Emperor)
supported the claim made to the vacant throne by his nephew,
Frederick Augustus, Elector of Saxony; and, in return,
Frederick Augustus accepted a certain act which the Emperor ha-l issued, called a Pragmatic, by which he abrogated
the Salic law as regarded the succession to his hereditary
States, and left them by will to his daughter, fMaria Theresa.  Russia also, which from  this time threw its monster
weight into the scales of all European settlements, defended
his cause.  Fleury, like all men of irresolute minds and petty
views, did too much or too little: he allowed Stanislaus to
hurry off to Warsaw, and aided him with a miserable flotilla,




396             SIR ROBERT WALPOLE.          [A. D. 1733
which found its way to Dantzic, conveying fifteen hundred
men. Those who carried into the Baltic the glories of France
and her fortunes, were taken prisoners by the Russians; and
Stanislaus was exceedingly happy when he succeededl in slipping across the borders of his by no means loyal hingdclom of
Poland, in the disguise of a peasant labourer, and re-established his quarters in the safer limits of France.  But the
pride of the nation was touched. Nobody cared much for
Stanislaus or the Polish crown; but the insult of defeat was
to be avenged. We had at that time in England a minister
of the name of Sir Robert Walpole, whose character as a
statesman has been rising ever since. Without the slightest
tincture of romance or heroism, this clear-headed, stouthearted country gentleman was a type and representative of
his country in one of the more level periods of our annals,
when national prosperity is all in all, when honour is scarcely
considered a national object, and where a desire to pick
quarrels and take offence on trifling occasions is thought the
sign of a weak and unmanly disposition.  Sir Robert had the
great task at home of composing internal dissension, and
reconciling the population to the new dynasty under the first
and second Georges, whose foreign accent and coarse manners contrasted in a very unfavourable light with the traditions of the stately Charles the First and his jovial, captivating and gentlemanly son. Nothing could be more agreeable, therefore, to the pacific and cautious Walpole than an
invitation from Fleury to keep England out of the approaching
troubles altogether. There was to be no increase of expenditure in fitting out ships of war or fortifying naval stations.
Sir Robert put a few bribes of five hundred pounds into the
hands of some of the more belligerent members of parliament,
and let it be known that English commerce was unrivalled,
and would continue unmolested on the sea, and that no other
merchant-ships were safe.  Vast prosperity accordingly
poured into London, and Bristol, and Liverpool; and we may
blush while we make the humiliating confession, that we
plumed ourselves more upon the monopoly established at this




A.. D. l733.]     ENGLAND NEUTRAL.                 397
period in the catching and carrying of slaves than on any
other part of our commercial career.
Slave-carriers of the world —smugglers in all lands —pirates and buccaneers in all the southern seas-we left France
and Spain to fight for dispossessed monarchs, and Germany
to maintain  great armies and sustain great reverses.  In
the meantime we filled our treasuries, and perfected our
maritime skill, in perpetual warfare beyond the line. WVe
imported the cultivation of turnips into Norfolk, and began
to look upon agriculture as a science.  Manufactures also
flourished under the peaceful protection of Sir Robert Walpole, and the excellent example of the French sufferers by the
Revocation, whose sons had now all taken English names, or
anglicised their French ones, and hated their former country
with the bitterness of personal wrong.
France, in addition to the aid of Spain, had at this time
the assistance of the King of Sardinia, who, in his quality of
guardian of the Alps, held the keys of Italy on one side and
France on the other. The heroes of the old wars of the Succession were still alive, but stripped of all their vigour by
advancing years. Marshal Berwick, who had so successfully
defended Spain, was in command of one of the French armies
on the Rhine, and was killed by a cannon-ball while preparing
for the assault of Philipsburg. When his death was reported
to Mlarshal Villars, who commanded another army in Italy,
the soldier's envy was roused by the news': "He was always
lucky," he said, and in a short time felt that there was no
chance of so glorious a conclusion to his own career. He
retired weak and exhausted, to repose from his fatigues at
Turin, and died in the same room where, eighty-five years
before, he had been born, his father at that time having been
Ambassador to the King of Sardinia. But the war went on
with greater spirit when the opponents of ]Marlborough and
Eugene were withdrawn. In every quarter the allied French,
Spaniards and Sardinians, were successful.  Paris became
gay once more as in the first glorious years of Louis the Four.
teenth, and Notre Dame again showed her walls hung with




39S            STANISLAUS TILE GOOD.           [A. D. 1736.
captured flags.  But flags and gaiety do not constitute the
strength of a nation; and three years of victories and disappointments reduced all the contending parties to a thirst for
peace, which it was impossible to satisfy too soon.  Spain
was the principal gainer here.  She began the war to restore
Stanislaus to the crown of Poland, and ended by placing her
king's second son on the throne of the Two Sicilies. France
accepted the Pragmatic of the Emperor, and guaranteed
3Maria Theresa's rights.  Stanislaus himself was contented
with the title of king, and the possession of the dluchy of
Lorraine, which he obtained in 1738, and which after his
death was to lapse to the French crown. And here let us
gay, in passing, that no dethroned sovereign ever took such
ample revenge upon fbrtune for her enmity, by showing what
royal qualities of goodness, justice, and munificence he possessed. For eighteen years the one bright spot in Europe
where gentleness and peace established their undisturbed
reign, was the dukedom of Lorraine, where Stanislaus gave to
all his people the example of a useful and virtuous life.  His
former oppressors, his rivals, his successors on the uneasy
throne of Poland, all wrote of him and to him with the respect and affection his Christian qualities deserved; and
when he died, loaded with years and benedictions, in 1766, it
was felt that royalty had lost its brightest representative, and
humanity itself one of the fairest of its examples.  It is a
pity that the narrowness of the scene on which his actions
were performed circumscribed his fame within such contracted
limits; but even the foolish vanity which has been called
the dignity of history, has not disdained to commemorate
that a grateful people knew this powerless but delightful
potentate by no other name than that of Stanislaus the Be-.
neficent.
During the whole of the war from 1733 to the preliminaries of peace in 1736, France had held the dignified place of
righter of wrong and vindicator of her national honour.  She
had no hidden purpose of aggrandisement at the expense
either of her friends or enemies, and Cardinal Fleury and Sir




A.. 1736.1    CHARACTER OF THE KING.               399
Robert Walpole had such confidence in each other's honesty
that each was left to pursue his own course of policy untouched by the other.  Europe seemed at last to have
achieved a solid foundation for peace. It had arranged for
the present, and made preparation for the future, particularly
by guarding against any complication which might arise at
the death of the Emperor.  The Pragmatic, securing the
succession of the Austrian monarchies to his daughter, had
been signed by France and Spain, by the King of the two
Sicilies, and Russia, and peaceably accepted by England and
Holland.  France sighed for repose, and found none. The
king and courtiers were regardless of the national poverty and
the commonest rules of decency.  Shocking equally the reflecting by their manners and the impoverished by their extravagance, they seemed to exult in their exemption from the
restraints of law or reason. An endless succession of unprincipled and designing women, not taken, as in the haughtier
days of preceding sovereigns, from the ranks of the aristocracy, but from the lowest born of the people, governed the
brutalised and voluptuous king.  The nobility, instead of
joining in a feeling of disgust at the proceedings of the court,
were only embittered with the commonalty for interfering
with their monopoly of royal favour. There was as violent a
rivalry between titled and illustrious fathers for the disgraceful elevation of their daughters to the position of king's favourites as for the highest offices of the State. Louis the
Fifteenth is saved, indeed, from a close inquiry into the particulars of his private life, as some noxious and unsavoury
animals are defended from capture by the odour they spread.
But it needs to be remembered that the reign of this man
was the turning point of aristocratic debauchery and degradation.  Lower the upper ranks could not go; and a rebound
or an extrication was inevitable. Peace, long continued under
such auspices, might have been more injurious to the real
greatness of the country than the struggles and sacrifices of
even a disastrous war.  Personal courage and the love of
glory were surer of a stage for their display in the field of




400                    PRUSSIA.               [A. D. 1 740.
battle than in the gilded drawing-rooms of slaves and paranours.  There would be closer links established between the
different classes-a community of danger or suffering would
endear the general and the private to each other:" And noble thought would be freer under the sun,
And the heart of a people beat with one desire."
After four years' breathing-time, accordingly, an occasion
was found for an appeal to arms, and ere many months were
over, battle and siege were going on from one end of Europe to the other. Hostilities, we have already seen, were
almost perpetual between England and Spain on the other
side of the line; and in 1738 a "Declaration" had brought
the enmity to our own hemisphere, and English and Spanish
fleets were searching for each other on every sea, yet without
disturbing the relations existing between other states.
Charles the Sixth, the Emperor of Germany, died in 1740
-a very natural thing for him to do, for he was not very
young, and had for some time been in bad health.  Now was
the time to show the efficacy of signatures and solemn treaties. The Pragmatic was in full force, with the names and
seals of almost all the potentates in Christendom, from Sicily
to Denmark, appended.  Nothing seemed more easy than for
Maria Theresa to step into her father's possessions, guaranteed to her by so many kings; but the moment the game
was on foot there was no keeping in the crowned pack from
the chase, and all the parties to the Pragmatic made claims
on their own behalf.  Spain was representative of the old
Austro-Spanish rights, though the family was changed.  Bavaria was direct in the female line from Ferdinand the First.
France itself was descendant from an elder branch through
the wives both of Louis the Thirteenth and Louis the Fourteenth.  Poland and Sardina put in their demands for separate portions, and the young and beautiful Maria Theresa
had nothing to depend on but the letter of the agreement,
and the charm of popularity with which she had already surrounded herself among the subjects of her father. Things




A D. 169 8.]    FREDERICK THE SECOND.                401
might have been settled by compromise or bribery, or other
diplomatic means; but it chanced that on the borders of the
Austrian States a new kingdom had sprung into existence
nine-and-thirty-years before-in the year 1701 —when the
ducal house of Brandenburg was elevated to royal rank, and
took the title of Kings of Prussia.  The two first kings had
been strange-mannered men-half-savage and half-inspirecl
-coarse and cruel, yet pervaded with a consciousness of a
great career laid open to their nation's talent and enterprise;
and with a curious long-sightedness the second of those scarcely civilised potentates had determined to prepare his country
for great exertions, of which he himself was neither to be witness nor guide.  H~e cultivated his estates; imported artisans, farmers, and shepherds; laid out millions of florins in
reclaiming waste lands; lived like a wretched miser; thrashed his courtiers, male and female, with sticks, with his own
royal hands; starved and imprisoned his son; and laid up
forty thousand dollars every month in his treasury, whether
he could spare the amount or not, and this, in a reign of
eight-and-twenty years, accumulated to an enormous sum.
His only expense was his army. He had seventy thousand
soldiers, all picked men, tall and strong; and he drilled
them in a way never heard of before.  He taught them  to
load and fire so quickly that he quadrupled their effective
force; he made them  masters of the bayonet exercise, and
was so unpitying in his discipline, and so marked and scarified the grenadiers themselves with canes and cats, that the
greatest coward would have preferred being slain by an
armed enemy in the front to the anguish the old tyrant would
have inflicted on him if he had shown the slightest fear.
This tremendous barbarian died in 1740, and his son, the,
starved and trampled-on Frederick, reigned in.his stead.  A
very different man in outward form, for he was polite and intelligent, a poet and a friend of poets, but at heart as untamably self-willed and pitilessly exacting as his brutal predecessor. Ambassadors were driving hither and thither in the
full glory of' protocols and treaties on the death of the Em26




402                ENGLAND ROUSED.             [A. D. 1741
peror Charles, when Frederick the Second of Prussia, ferreting out some deeds in some old muniment-chest, by which
his ancestors, many generations ago, had resigned all claim
to the province of Silesia, protested against the deceased's
uncertain right to deprive himn of his legitimate succession,
and led his army into the coveted ground.
He defeated the Austrians at the battle of Molwitz, and
occupied the province without delay. Even peaceful Fleury
saw that, as one portion of the young queen's states could be
seized, France had a chance of getting possession of some
other, and accordingly a treaty was entered into with Frederick, and an army of thirty-five thousand men was sent into
Germany, to support the election of Charles of Bavaria, the
candidate for the Imperial dignity, opposed to Maria Theresa's husband Francis Duke of Tuscany.
Chivalry and knighthood, however, were not extinct, though
they did not appear in complete steel nor figure at tournaments.  All England got up in arms.  George the Second
was an apathetic man, and thought the world was safe as long
as the crown was undisturbed; but the parliament, and the
counties and the town-councils, besieged the throne with remonstrances against the assailants, and war was declared in
defence of the woman-king. This was her noble title; for
when she presented herself to the Hungarian magnates, and
addressed them in Latin —the language of public affairs in
that country-they drew their swords, and waved them in
the air, crying, " Let us die for our king Maria Theresa."
Great subscriptions were made by the English ladies for their
injured sister's cause, and sent over in hard cash when she
was at her worst extremity. Fortunately, when the generosity of one portion of mankind had little effect, the rascality,of another was of the greatest use.  Maria Theresa offered to
resign Silesia to its unprincipled invader, and immediately the
Prussians looked coldly on their French associates. The
Marshal de Broglie was blockaded in Prague, and lost more
than half his army by cold and hunger in a disastrous flight
through Bohemia.  Charles of Bavaria, the nominal Emperor




A. D. 1745.1   DETTINGEN AND FONTENOY.                403
was driven from  his hereditary dominions, eand  fled  to
Frankfort.  The French armies from all directions retreated
towards the Rhine, and George the Second made his appearance in Germany at the lead of a considerable force of English, Hessians, and I-anoverians, ancd gained the battle of
Dettingen, the last Battle at which an English king has flourished his swordl in person.  No monument of this engagement
survives at the present day, except the Te Deumn in which
the great Handel celebrated the victory.  With so many
kings in the field, it was necessary for the successor of Francis tha*t he should buckle on his sword.  Louis nmade a short
and successfful campaign in 1744, and in the spring of the
following year was present at a victory over the English.
The battle of Fontenoy has had the advantage of being narreAted by Voltaire, a writer who, when he turned his mind
away from the polemics and philosophy —falsely so calledcl-by
which his bad eminence was attained, is beyond all doubt the
most fascinating, and even the most unobjectionable, author
of his time; and he contrives by the manly impetuosity of
his statements, and the graphic brilliancy of his descriptions,
to make the vanquished feel no degradation from the issue of
their noble efforts.  War resumed some of its old courtesies
on this occasion, and the sad divisions produced by civil
quarrels is painfully shown in the civilities exchanged before
the engagement began between the French guards, in which
were many of the Scottish Jacobite exiles, and their loyal
countrymen who served in the British ranks.  " Gentlemen
of the French guards," said Lord Charles Hay, " it is for you
to begin fire."  But the Count of Hauteroche replied, "' We
never fire first;'tis for you to begin."  The Duke of Cumberland, the brother of the king, was in command of the allies, of whom  not quite eighteen thousand were English.
Forming a column of fourteen thousand men, thirty or forty
abreast, he marched straight fbrward, across even ground and
1uneven ground, turning neither to the right nor left, bayonets fixed, and steady as on parade-the most tremendous advance that ever was made in war.  They were fired on in




404             THE TERRIBLE COLUIMN.         [A. D. 1745,
front and in the flank;; cannon to right of them, cannon to
left of them, volleyed and thundered;" and still they pressed
on, the same imperturbable mass of regulated strength as
ever. Nothing could stop that terrible approach, and the
Marshal de Saxe seized the king's bridle and begged him to
leave the field along with his son the Dauphin. But they
would not move, for even that heartless voluptuary was a
true son of France as regarded personal courage.  Things,
however, grew rapidly worse; orders were given to evacuate
the village of Fontenoy, and a positive command was issued
by Marshal Saxe to provide for the safety of the king. The
English column meantime found itself at the end of its incredible march, and did not know what further to do. Everythinog had sunk before it; but it had neither cavalry, nor
guns, nor courageous allies to cover it on either side. The
Dutch remained in the rear; and the victorious Engflish kept
their ground, having fairly marched through the hostile force.
While all was confusion round the person of the king, and
the retreat was actually going on, a dashing young aide-dclecamp, the Duke de PRichelieu, came up at full speed, sword
in hand.  " The victory may still be ours," he said, "if you
will only stop.  Send five guns to'the head of the column,
and fire right down its extreme length, while we charge it on
all sides at the same time." The king saw the only chance
remaining; the old Marshal was persuaded to make the attempt; the guns were hurried into position: the King's
House, with all the gallant adventurers of France, and the
fiercer hostility of the Irish exiles, charged upon the flanks.
The advance was a noble precursor of the heroic madness of
Balaklava, and the retreat was as difficult, but more glorious.'With the same unflinching gallantry as marked their advance,
the troops faced about, and though officers were falling at
every step, and hundreds were mown down by the murderous
fire in their rear, their march was sullenly steady, and their
ranks unwaveringly kept.  They might have asked why they
had gone on, and also why they were led back. There was




N. D. 1746.1    REBELLION IN SCOTLAND.             405
no general among them to make use of their valour; and
Cumberlancl lost as much glory as his army gained.
Cumberland, however, was to gather war's blood-stained
laurels in Scotlancl in the following year; for Louis, continuing his career of success after the victory of Fontenoy —
the first and last pitched battle of any magnitude which the
French ever gained against the English-had made himself
master of nearly the whole of Flanders, and by way of working a diversion in his favour, had approved of the romantic
expedition of Charles Edward Stuart, the grandson of James
the Second, who landed on the coast of Scotlancl in the month
of June. The plan was successful; George returned to
England, and Cumberland repaired to the seat of war in
the north. It was not so much the unexpected good fortune
of the Pretender, in defeating his English opponents in a
few inconsiderable engagements, which exercised a favourable
influence on French affairs, as the spectacle it afforded of the
divisions existing in the kingdom of his most powerful and
inveterate enemy. The divisions, however, were only temporary. England soon recovered from its surprise, and in a very
few months enabled the cold-hearted Cumberland to trample out the last sparks of sedition in the blood of the gallant
and generous Highlanders at the fight of Culloden in 1746.
In the mean time, while Louis and Frederic were pursuing their design against M5aria Theresa in the Netherlands
and Germany, the navy of England rode mistress of the seas.
It seized Cape Breton and other colonies of France in America, and intercepted her ships from India. It almost paid
the expenses of the war by the value of prizes taken from
Spain, and prepared the way for greater triumphs by showing
its triumphant flag off the coast of Hindostan. Great things
indeed were taking place in that vast theatre of English enterprise. The story of France in those transactions is one of
great efforts made in vain, and the gradual extinction of all
her power. Louis the Fourteenth had established a French
India Company, about the same time that the English Company was finally established by William  the Third. At




406               INDIAN STRUGGLES.           [A. D. 1 48,
first the insinuating genius and showy qualifications of the
French gave them the superiority in the contest for favour
with the native princes. Dupleix, the Governor of Pondicherry, and de la Bourdonnais, were two of the self-taught
warriors and politicians whom it seems the specialty of India
to produce.  Whether the natural vigour of the European intellect finds room for its display in a land where there is so
varied a field for the development of different kinds of powers,
or that the feeling of superiority over a whole race of mankind elevates the individual to higher actions than he would
otherwise attempt, these two men-one originally a factor in
a mercantile establishment at Chandernagore, and the other
governor and superintendent of trade at the Island of Bourbon-stepped into a position which, in old and traditionary
Europe, would have been reserved for kings and princes.
They created a fleet and raised an army; and de la Bourdonnais dispersed an English squadron, and took possession
of the settlement of Madras. Jealousy, however, sprang up
between the two; and mutual complaints and accusations
were sent home by every ship. The king and council could
form no idea of such a proceeding as war and conquest by
two personages whose duty it was to attend to the sale of
indigo and silk; and when de la Bourdonnais arrived in Paris
to support his cause in person, Dupleix had greatest influence at court, and the conqueror of Madras was thrown into
the Bastile. Dupleix was now supreme, and succeeded in
repulsing an English fleet which bombarded Pondicherry.
When peace was restored between the rival nations in the
West, by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, in 1748, no sign of
amity made its appearance between the rival merchants on
the Coromandel coast. Dupleix sided with one of the princes
of Arcot, replaced him on his throne, and was so carried
away by security and ostentation, that he bought or forged
the title of Viceroy of the Carnatic of the Great 3ogul, and
affected a,greater magnificence than the native rulers. "; High
in a throne of royal state, which far outshone the wealth of
Ormus or of Ind," the Frenchman " exalted sat" and re



A. D. 1748.]      DUPLEIx  AND CLIVE.              407
ceived the prostration of nawabs and rajahs. But India had
not been without its elevating effect on the genius of the
rival nation. England saw the earlier services of Robert
Clive, a merchant's clerk in a counting-house near Calcutta,
at first with surprise and then with pride. He left his desk,
and took the command in war with a self-reliant dignity
which gave confidence to his companions. Step by step he
followed the proceedings of Dupleix, and smote him hip and
thigh at the siege of Madura, near Arcot. The native mind
was subdued by the sight of a people who vanquished the
French as easily as the French had scattered the Hindoos;
and court influence at home completed the misfortunes which
English superiority had begun.  Dupleix was recalled, and,
in spite of his title of Marquis, was again looked upon as a
book-keeper in a stall, and died of a broken heart in the effort
to induce his judges to leave him some small portion of the
great fortune he had at one time acquired. The Count Lally,
an Irishman by descent, was sent out to replace the plebeian
Dupleix, and made matters a thousand times worse. Harsh,
contemptuous, and overbearing, he was far more keenly
dreaded by his friends than by the enemy. He so offended
the inhabitants of Pondicherry, which was a second time besieged by the English, that they almost prayed:for the capture of the town and the disgrace of the commander.  The
capture came; and the commander, storming, cavilling, and
finding fault with everybody but himself, was sent home, and
after some years' imprisonment in the Bastile, was executed
as a traitor. De la Bourclonnais, Dupleix, and Lally, were
the victims of French feeling in the matter of a colonial empire. Clive, on the other hand, was ennobled, Coote promoted.
and honours and wealth showered on the bearers of the English flag. The issue of a contest in which the combatants
were so differently treated by their employers, was easily seen,
And with India laid open to her powers, with immense
squadrons blockading Toulon and Marseilles, and her Austrian
allies ravaging Provence, England looked on with patience at
the momentary triumphs of France in Italy and Flanders.




408           PEACE OF AIX-LA-CHAPELLE.    [A.D. 1748
The apparent object of the war existed no more, for Francis
of Tuscany, the husband of MIaria Theresa, had been raised
to the Empire by an indisputable majority of the electors, including the vote of the versatile Frederick of Prussia, in 1746.
The belligerents were farther induced to a renewal of peace
by the ominous appearance of a body of fifty thousand Russians, despatched by the Empress Elizabeth to the aid of the
Dutch. No one could tell what effect the swarms of an almost undiscovered desert would have on the future policies
of the world; and it was thought wiser to prevent their first
taste of the vintages of the Rhine, which might induce them
to renew their visit, by an accommodation among all the
states.  The Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, therefore, was hailed
with great joy. It replaced everybody very nearly in the
position held before the fight.  England returned the greater
part of her conquests; Frederic, however, retained his prey
of Silesia; and now that 3Maria Theresa was firmly established on her father's throne, and had procured the Empire
for her husband-Francis the First-the powers and potentates of Europe had the unblushing effrontery once more to
sign the Pragmatic Sanction, which they had been labouring
for eight years to destroy.
The history of France, for many years to come, is the history of decay and failure-not so much as regards the curtailment of her power or the unsuccess of her arms, as the
internal corruptions by which nations more surely fall than
by defeat. Lost provinces may be re-won, a false step in
policy may be retraced, but the destruction of private virtue
and public honour is irremediable.  The indescribable luxuries of the royal establishment went on, not only unreformed,
but increased, as the king advanced in years. To silence the
professional accusations of the clergy, Louis, reeking from his
debaucheries, threw himself unresisting into their hands. An
archbishop, certain of the support of the Crown, published a.
sentence of excommunication against all who would not accept a famous bull called " Unigenitus," by which a certain
pope hadl denounced a religious party in the Church calle(l




A. D. 1754.]    RENEWAL OF HOSTILITIES.            409
the Jansenists. An excommunication, an archbishop, a bull
and a pope, in the clays of Voltaire, and Buffon, and Rousseau, could have little to expect except the derision which an
anachronism is certain to receive. The Parliament of Paris
rose up in defence of the excommunicated.  The king rebuked the parliament. The parliament renewed their order
against the reception of the bull, and the king sent the
parliament into exile. But the quarrel was made up on the
occasion of the birth of the Dauphin's second son, the unhappy Louis the Sixteenth-who was thus the cause of the
restoration of a popular assembly which had rebelled against
the Crown, and the banishment of three of the bishops who
persisted in preferring the pope's authority to the king's.
This was in 1754. He lived to see the omnipotence of popular assemblies, and the death or exile of all the bishops in
France.
In a few years after the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle the
reconciled opponents hated each other with a bitterer hatred
than before. England had presumed too much on her superiority, and had issued her commands to France as to a subject state. She had insisted on the expulsion of the Pretender from the French soil, and took no notice of the
circumstance that, while France obeyed her haughtily urged
behest, she was building ships, and founding cannon, and
establishing a nursery for sailors by great bounties on the
cod-fishing on the banks of Newfoundland. In 1756 England awakened suddenly to the danger, and, availing herself
of some boundary quarrel, unsettled at the last peace between
her settlers in Acadia and the French inhabitants of Canada,
she seized all the fishing-boats she could reach, and attacked
a sloop or two of war. France retorted. Richelieu, the
same whose advice had saved the day at Fontenoy, made a
sudden descent on Minorca, which had been an English possession ever since the peace of Utrecht in 1697, and carried,
by gallantry as much as by surprise, the strong citadel of Port
Mahon. This expedition was protected by a French fleet
under Galissonniere, which repulsed the attack of an inferior




410               SEVEN YEARS' WAR,           [A.. 1759.
English force under Byng.  The pride of the country was so
ridiculous that nothing would satisfy it for the absence of  a
victory at sea but the blood of the offending admiral; and
Byng was shot at Portsmouth, "to encourage the others,'
according to Voltaire.  Whether this was the object or not,
the face of affairs soon changed. From that moment there
was no gleam of' prosperity for the standard of France. There
was a minister in England who threw such energy into the
councils of the State, that defeat, or even disappointment,
became unknown. His name was NVilliam Pitt, universally
known as the Great Commoner, a designation he only lost
when he sank almost into oblivion as Earl of Chatham.  In
all quarters France had to lament her losses.  She heard
day by day of the capture of some colony, such as Canada,
torn from her by Wolfe at the great battle of Quebec-of all
her West Indian Isles-and, finally, of all her fleets. In this
war she had unfortunately exchanged the alliances which had
always hitherto secured her support. She had united her
fortunes with those of Austria, and neglected the interests of
Spain. ]{iaria Theresa, whom we admired in her adversity,
does not take so heroic a position in the direction she gave
her foreign policy. WVhen she had achieved her place, she
condescended to flatter Madame de Pompadour, the king's
vulgar and ambitious favourite; by writing her letters filled
with professions of friendship; but her object was gained,
and France deserted her natural allies. Frederick, the moment
he heard of the correspondence with Pompadour, marched his
irresistible battalions, and took possession of the whole of
Saxony. He conquered the Austrians at Losowitz; and instead of sending the Saxon army, which he took prisoners in
a body, to waste their time in his citadels and jails, he mixed
them up in small proportions in his own regiments, and subjected them to the same frightful drill as had converted his
countrymen into a submissive and unreasoning machine. A
victory in this way -was the best of recruiting-sergeants.  In
1757 he conquered the French at Rosbach, and compensated
for the bad generalship of his ally, the Duke of Cumberland,




A. D. 1758.]       PEACE OF PARIS.                   411
who had been forced to consent to an armistice in the electorate of Hanover.  Pitt, however, disallowed the convention,
andc drove the enemy out of Hanover by a successful battle at
Crevelt.
But, while victorious in various fields, Frederick perceived
that the number of his foes was continually on the increase.
Austria, Russia, and France, were fearful odds against so new
and unconsolidated a kingdom.  The crown, however, lay on
the bayonets of his soldiers, and wherever they went he was
undisputed king. Austrians and Russians entered his capital, and put Berlin to ransom; but he held his army together, and crushed his enemies separately.  Fights and
marches which set all the world wondering in those exciting
years, but which had no permanent effect in the distribution
of political power, have now fallen out of men's minds, except
as curious studies of the art of war. But the changes of
policy produced by deaths and disagreements were more effectual than battles in altering the state of affairs.  Sensible
at last of the mistake they had made in deserting their old
connections for Austria and Russia, the ministers of France
entered, in 1761, into a strict alliance with the Bourbons of
Spain and the two Sicilies.  This treaty was stigmatised in
Europe as the Family Compact. But George the Third had
succeeded his grandfather the year before.  He hated Pitt,
and was displeased with the aggrandisement of Frederick of
Prussia.  IHKe listened to the detractors of the Great Commoner, and longed for peace.  Not the less vigorously, however, did Pitt carry on his designs; and the result was, that
when Spain began arming in 1762, expeditions were fitted
out in all the English ports, which tore from the Spanish
crown its most cherished possessions-the great island of
Cuba and the rich Philippine Isles. Farther resistance was
found to be impossible; and the disastrous Seven Years'
WVar (1756-1763) was brought to a conclusion by the Peace
of Paris.
A nation can submit to a good deal of suffering when it
is the price of glory and success; but France had no conso;




412          BANISHMENT OF THE JESUITS.   [A. D. 1 64.
lation, except in the acknowledged bravery she had displayed,
for the weight of taxation that fell upon her when the contest
ceased. It was necessary for the public discontent to find an
issue somewhere. The king was still too sacred to be personally attacked; for the attempt which had been made upon
his life by Damiens in 1757 had for a moment blinded the
people to his faults; and an atonement for an extravagant
court and an inglorious war was found in the society of the
Jesuits.  The Parliament hated theim as enemies of civil
freedom; the supporters of the Gallican Church as the
avowed champions of the Pope. Their own conduct had forfeited the respect of the public, and roused the jealousies of
private life. They were now banished from the realm amid
the lamentations of the bishops, the acclamations of the
people, and the sneers of the philosophers. The principal
personage who rose in this manner in defence of the national
liberty, and cthe purity of society, was Madame de Pompadour! The Jesuits had the satisfaction of being sacrificed
by a hand whose severity brought honour to the victim, and
saw an avenging providence in the death which overtook their
persecutor in the very hour of her triumph. Her place was
supplied by Madame du Barri, a woman of the lowest rank
and most depraved disposition; and the king sank lower and
lower in the gulf of self-indulgence and vice. The same
clouds which had gathered round the closing years of Louis
the Fourteenth, and darkened his old age, were unnoticed by
the heartless Sybarite, who had been deaf all his life to the
feelings of patriotism and affection. 3Maria Leczinski, the
daughter of Stanislaus, died in 1768; the Danphin, the
Dauphiness, and their eldest son, were all dead. The heir to
the throne was their second son, Louis, now ten years of age.
His grandfather was lost in the obscure enjoyments of his
private apartments, and took no thought either of the blanks
which death had made in his family circle, or the cries of his
oppressed and discontented people.
But we are now getting nearer what may be called our
own times: names come constantly before us that have the




A. D. 1769.]      BIRTH OF NAPOLEON.               413
sound of familiar friends. In 1769 the island of Corsica gave
up its long struggle for independence under the heroic Pascal
Paoli, and was incorporated with France. In two months
afterwards, on the 15th of August, a child was born in Ajaccio, with all the privileges of French citizenship, though with
all the fire and impetuosity of his Italian descent, who was
afterwards known through all the habitable globe as Napoleon
Buonaparte. It is strange that the most rugged of the small
isles which dot the Mediterranean sea-more distinctive in its
character, and less civilised in its habits, than any other spot
in Europe-should have given birth to the most cosmopolite
genius the world ever saw-the foreigner who sat on the
throne of France with a deeper knowledge of French feeling
than any native king-the Italian who subduecl Italy at the
head of an army of strangers —the conqueror of Germany and
Egypt-who dated his decrees sometimes from the capital of
Spain, and sometimes from the Kremlin of Moscow. If
Paoli had continued the contest for one year more, Corsica
would have been equally lost to its old masters, the Genoese,
but its acquirer would not have been the exhausted Louis of
France; England would have attached the island to her
crown, and Napoleon would have been a subject of George
the Third.
There is nothing better proved by a course of historic
study than the strange fact, that the people on the very
verge of change and revolution have no idea that anything is
about to take place. A nation is always taken by surprise
when its institutions are overthrown, like a child when its
house of cards is toppled over by its own height. Contemporaries in other lands are generally quite as blind; but the
spectator from a distance of time sees everything more clearly.
There are no other foreign incidents to relate in the reign of
Louis the Fifteenth; but his internal administration has a
startling interest to us from the results which so soon followed. First of all, the finances, which are the real anchors
by which nations ride in safety, were in a hopeless state.
The expedients to fill the exchequer which proud and majes.




414             EXHAUSTION OF FRANCE.         [A. D. 1769
tic personages like the French kings were reduced to, were
worthy of sharpers at cards.  The Grand 3Ionarque himself
discovered that the Crown had sold a great many titles of
honour —such as countships and marquisates — during the
last ninety years. IHe issued an order that all those ranks
within that date of creation should be disallowed; and having
thinned the peerage* by such a wholesale clearance, he sold
all the titles back again, with a guarantee against future
deprivation.  The offices of judge and pleader, of master of
requests and clerks in chancery-in short, all the places in
the high courts of equity and justice-were held by purchase.
A man bought what we might perhaps call a chief-justiceship
of the Queen's Bench, and sold it at an increased rate when
he had enlarged the fees and perquisites by which he was
paid. Louis the Fifteenth could not displace the holders of
snug appointments for which they held tlhe crown receipts;
but when the war became very expensive, he created a great
number of new berths connected with the different judicial
bodies, and sold them for large sums. What may have been
the feelings of the clients before such courts we are not told
but we know that the multiplicity of forms and tribunals
through which the simplest cause had to pass, made justice
imnlpossible either to rich or poor. The collectorships of taxes
in the same way, from the farmer-generalship to the merest
messenger, were set up to sale.  The municipal offices, to
which incomes were attached, were also disposed of to the
highest bidder; and the ingenuity of chancellors of the exchequer was not displayed in discovering new taxes, but in
raising a revenue from year to year by the creation of titles
and offices which the rich and ambitious would think it worth
their while to buy.  Sole residuary legatees of all the feelings
of liberty which once were so widely scattered through the
provincial governments in France, the parliaments professed
a power of interfering with the outrages of the royal prerogative; a tradition still lived among them that, at one time,
they possessed a potential voice in the allocation of the public burdens, and that, till within a short period, they had re



A. D. i77o.]    THE MEMBERS EXILED.                415t
tained a veto on the proceedings of the Crown in the matter
of taxation.
The Duke of Aiguillon was governor of Brittany in 1770,
and was guilty of oppression in the levying of the public
burdens and of some injustice in the application of them.
The Parliament of Brittany accused him  of these crimes.
The Chancellor Maupeou, the sycophantish flatterer of the
infamous Du Barri, tried to quash the trial, and succeeded in
getting the case removed to the Parliament of Paris, where
the Duke might be judged by his peers, who were ex-officio
members of that court. All the parliaments from the different districts in France sent up their adhesion to the metropolitan tribunal. Parliamentary power was to be reorganised
in this trial of one of the highest of the nobility, and each
little provincial assembly saw its dignity and privileges vindicated by the restoration of ancient forms.  The king interfered and forbade the proceedings, making it penal at the
same time for the members to correspond with the other parliaments, or to give up their usual duties as magistrates of
the land.  But the wily lawyers saw their opportunity.
Since they could not exercise their ancient authority as
judges in the last resort, they would not entertain -the ordinary pleas.  All pleading ceased; and the king's next move
was to appoint the accused man, the Duke of Aiguillon,
prime-minister of France.  Aiguillon went boldly to the
point. Two soldiers appeared, late at night, at the door of
each of the members.  The simple question was asked,
" Will you resume your duties or not?"  Forty of the
magistrates consented, but were ashamed on the following
day when they saw their colleagues had stood firm. They
retiredl; and next night the soldiers appeared again, and
gave them  notice that their offices were withdrawn, their
properties confiscated, and themselves condemned to immediate exile. This triumph over the lawyers was received with
universal applause. The nobility hated the upstart commoner, who had ventured to find fault with a duke; the
philosophers sneered, as was their wont, at what they con



416            PARTITION OF POLAND.          [A. D. 1772.
sidered a quarrel for authority between the Crown and the
courts. The people had no respect for magistrates who had
bought their office for the express purpose of squeezing an
immense return for their money out of the suitors before
them; and, finally, the wit and satirist had endless occupation in making songs and lampoons about the poor old dignitaries, who were marched off in spite of obesity and gout between two musketeers of the guard. The other parliaments
were treated in the same way, and the new members were
nominated by the king.
It was not perceived that even a purchased office, which
was insured against removal by the supreme power, was some
guarantee for personal independence.  The courts of law
were now the creatures of the crown; and Madame Dn Barri,
insolent, ostentatious, and insatiable for power and money,
was at the height of her evil power. There was no court, nor
parliament, nor municipality in all the realm, that could find
fault with what she did; and Louis, as his advancing years
made the spectacle of his excesses more offensive, had his
tastes catered for by this woman with disgusting subserviency,
and was drowned deeper than ever in his impurities and crimes.
With liberty so entirely dead at home, no hand could possibly
be raised in defence of it abroad. Russia, Austria, and Prussia fell upon Poland, while it was torn with domestic faction,
and made the memorable partition of it in 1772, from which
it may be questioned if any benefit has accrued to the parties
engaged. It is painful to read that one of the personages
implicated in this shameless wrong was Maria Theresa, who
had so recently suffered from a similar dishonesty herself.
It is said she perceived the atrocity of the deed when she
signed the division of the spoil; but her conduct received a
kind of condonation in the apathy of France, the blindness of
Sweden and Denmark, and the phlegmatic and unfeeling quiescence of England.
Meanwhile society went its foolish roundl. The salons of
Paris were never more gay. Witty duchesses entertained
men of genius, who had no other claim to such high distinc



A. D. 1774.] DEATH OF LOUIS THE FIFTEENTH.           417
tion than the authorship of clever and sometimes very improper books. Young bishops of noble houses, and abb6s of
elegant manners, were the deli ght of those blue-stocking assemblages, and sneered at the Christian faith, and paid compliments to painted countesses, with great grace.  Such
a totally unreal state of manners and feelings never existed in
a civilised land before. One good strong belief-even of
something not worthy of approval in itself-would have been
an improvement on that flippant, brilliant epicurianism of
the hour, when there was no trust or faith either in God or
nman. Of this dismal period, it may be said, that the family
had ceased to exist.  The sacredness of the married bond
was lost among all classes of the people.  The labouring men
of twenty years old, at this time, were the persons who, nineteen years afterwards, lapped with grinning lips the bleeding
skulls they succeeded in seizing from  the sawdust of the
scaffold.  The young girls of eighteen at this time were the
matrons who, eighteen years afterwards, shrieked their unimaginable accusations against Marie Antoinette, the mother of
the Dauphin.  No government can endure, —no system can
be built up, —except through a people's reverence for the
domestic affections.  All the fires that poets talk about on
the altars of our country are lighted at the common hearth.
The Romans were wrong in ordaining that if the vestal flame
expired by the carelessness of the watcher, it could only be
revived by beams gathered from the sun; they should have
commanded it to be re-illumined from a parlour grate.  It
would not have had so noble a source, but it would have
burned with a steadier heat.  Let us shut up this miserable
career with the statement, that Louis the Fifteenth-old,
exhausted-hated and despised-descended to his dishonoured tomb on the 10th of MIay, 1774.
27




CHAPTER XVII.
LOUIS THE SIXTEENTH.-A. D. 1774 TO A. D. 1793.
ALL the performers in the great drama, of which we are not
yet come to the final act, were now upon the scene. There
were Louis the Sixteenth, aged twenty years, gentle and
kind; Louis the Eighteenth, aged nineteen, clearer in intellect and more markel in character; and Charles the Tenth,
aged seventeen, stubborn and proud. These were the three
grandsons of Louis the Fifteenth, and all attained the throne.
But there was another personage at that time alive who also
the likeness of a kingly crown had on: it was a little child of
seven months old, a grandson of the false and dissolute Regent, who, after a long period of struggle and obscurity,
emerges at the end of his career as Louis Philippe. Four
Bourbons and a Buonaparte were all preparing for their parts
in the year 1774 —three princes, a boy playing the hoop in
the streets of Ajaccio, and a baby in arms.
A young king is always popular; he has made no personal or public enemies, and there is a length of reign before
him which will enable him to reward his friends.  But there
perhaps never was so popular a king as Louis the Sixteenth.
Miarriecl at sixteen to the beautiful daughter of the Emperor
of Germany, one year his junior, he ancl Marie Antoinette,
when their establishment was formed, presented to the adlmiring eyes of the Parisians the model of a perfectly happy
life. - They reminded the observers of some of those charming
fairy tales where royal shepherds and shepherdesses exchange




A. D. 1775.]        THE NEWW REIGN.                419
the cares of power for the enjoyments of Arcadia; and if the
enjoyments were a little expensive, and Arcadia a domain
filled with princes and princesses, the interest of the story
was only enhanced, and the voices of the real Corydonsthe starving peasantry and angry'men of the towns-were
drowned in the shouts of jubilee.  The finances were utterly
ruined; the expenses of the State greatly exceeded the utmost possible extent of its income; and the goodness of the
young monarch's heart came forth in the first speech which
reached the public ear: c "We will have no loans, no fresh
burdens, and no credit; " and, leaving his ministers to devise
means of paying the army and navy, the interest of the funds,
and the overwhelming salaries of the national servants, he
conducted his gay and brilliant wife to Riheims, where he was
crowned with greater splendour than Louis the Fourteenth,
and with a prouder display of feudal ceremony and knightly
magnificence than had been dreamt of by Philip Augustus. As
if to make up for his own youth and inexperience, he called to
his council the Count de Maurepas, at this time seventy-three
years of age, who had been disgraced twenty-five years before
by the favourite Pompadour, and had been busying himself
ever since in studying the modern philosophies by which the
world was going to be reformed.  But there are some men
whom years cannot make old, nor any study of philosophy wise
and prudent.  The new minister was as firm  a believer in
Arcadia as the Phillises and Strepbons of Paris. He would
bring back a golden age, where the dreams of philanthropists
anda the wisdom of statesmen should be united.  He had
read the glowing descriptions of a state of society where all
men were equal before the law; where the rich could not
oppress the poor; where the Crown was the fountain of perennial grace; and where the obsolete prejudices of a useless and
supererogatory church were reduced to the purest essence of
the Christian precepts, and where there was neither heresy nor
superstition.  He put his theories into practice with the sanme
thoughtless levity as he had maintained them in the sparkuing conversaziones of the capital, and gave open manifesta



420                    TURGOT.                [A. D. 1775
tion of his principles and designs by appointing to the management of the finances, or chancellorship of the exchequer
as we should call it, one of the least-known writers in the
work called the " Encyclopdclia," in which the most sweeping changes in government, society, and religion, were agitatecl with the greatest eloquence and amazing success: his
name was Turgot. And with a prime-minister tapping his
golden snulff-box and uttering declamations about the rights
of man, and a chief of the finances, one of the most honest
and intellectual men in France, and imbued with all the doctrines of the school of Voltaire and Diclerot, the enthusiastic
young marquises and abbes, who united politics and romance
in almost equal quantities, saw an end of all the miseries of
life.  A new era had opened on mankind, and its inauguration was fortunately intrusted to a king of the most amiable
disposition, and a cqueen who shrouded the grandeurs of the
noblest place in Europe, and the pride of the highest birth, in
a graceful simplicity of manners and the most childlike enjoyment of the pleasures of her age and rank.
The Parliament of Paris was in exile, embittered against
kingly power by the tyrannical use made of it by Louis the
Fifteenth; cherishing in its disgrace the privileges it had
claimed, and to which it undoubtedly was not entitled by
the terms of its constitution; and certain of the support of
Parisian opinion, in the opposition it was prepared to continue to the despotism of the throne.  The king's friends
advised him  to avail himself of this opportunity to make
terms with the parliament —to define its powers, and to use
it in advancing the measures of reform and retrenchment
which he was resolved to introduce.  But in the soul of the
light-hearted and frivolous-minded Maurepas there was no
room for enmity or suspicion. He restored the parliament
without conditions; and the pardon thus generously extended
by the young king was viewed in all quarters as a triumph of
liberty over the Crown. The lawyers in all countries are the
class which is least inclined to change, and the most tenacious of abuses. There was probablv no member of that




A. D. 1776.]   PARLIAMENI RESISTS REFORM.            421
legal and magisterial court who did not feel that the propositions of Turgot for the reform of the law and of the system
of taxation were founded in justice, and that sooner or later
they would be found indispensable to the safety of the State.
But they determined to show their authority on every occasion, and refused to enregister the royal edict for the suppression of the Corvee (or forceel labour on the landlord's
ground), and other seignorial rights.  The king, at Turgot's
instigation, persisted, and attended a Bed of Justice, where
he gave orders for the registration in person; but he saw the
spirit in which he was met. Even l[alesherbes, the President of the Court of Aids, a chosen colleague of Turgot himself, and strongly inclined to the liberal views of the Encyclopeedists, resigned his post, and Louis lost confidence both
in men and things.  He was not sure of the benefits of so
many alterations, especially if forced on an unwilling people,
and dismissed Turgot from his place.  If Turgot had had
unlimited power, and a long life before him, he might have
succeeded in carrying a portion of his plans.  But "C law
Haste" was, as usual, "half-sister to Delay."  He saw before him the whole scheme of a perfect and complete reformation, but he forgot the difficulty of fitting-in its separate
parts.  He proposed to abrogate the exemption from taxation:
which the nobility and clergy unblushingly enjoyedc-to free
internal commerce from the annoyances of local payments and
trade monopolies-to introduce perfect liberty of conscience
and uniformity of law throughout the provinces of the kingdom-to dissolve the monasteries, and apply the funds to a
system of national education: —all very excellent and praiseworthy intentions, but not to be carried into effect by the~
stroke of a harlequin's wooden sword.
Neckar, a banker of Geneva, was called in to fill the place,
of Turgot, and endeavoured to apply the principles of his late
trade to the affairs of a great nation.  He considered credit
the salvation of States as it was the prosperity of banls, and
commenced a system of borrowing on the security of the
country, as if a national debt was a sign of riches and power.




422                     NECKAR.                [A. D. 1776
He introduced at the same time a system of carefulness and
economy, which he hoped would speedily make the ordinary
revenue sufficient for the expenses; but the theoretic supporters of democratic simplicity deserted him when their pensions were diminished, and Neckar was also displaced.
The talent and honesty of three administrators like Turgot, Malesherbes, and Neckar, struggled in vain against the
confusion of the state finances and the selfishness or ignorance
of all classes of society. The numerous propositions of change
had unsettled men's minds, and their withdrawal brought
anger and disappointment. The peasantry were starving in
a great many parts of France, and were instigated in others
to outrages against law and property by parties who intended
to give the philosophic ministers a hint of the danger of all
innovation.  Barns and stackyards were burned down in the
midst of a loudly lamented scarcity of grain and the declared
ruin of the agricultural interests. These crimes were meant
to be a protest against the doctrine of political economy ostentatiously promulgated by the Government, " that the proprietor of corn was not bound to supply the markets with his
grain, but might throw the whole of his crops into the sea if
he chose."  An injudicious declaration of a right which no
farmer out of bedlam would have been likely to exercise, created a popular outbreak; but the Economists, as the disciples
of Turgot were called, persisted in the truth of their assertion,
and could prove it, with the greatest syllogistic precision, to
the satisfaction of the Tuileries and Versailles.
The antechambers of those princely dwellings laughed at
both the contending parties-the argumentative Turgotists,
andcl the- starving people-and were far more deeply agitated
with the results of the speculations on kings and governments
in which they had indulged, the tidings of which were wafted
over to them by every ship that came from the shores of
America.  Here were the very questions which had filled the
works of the Encyclopsedists; carried out to the arbitrament
of arms before their eyes: " no taxes without representation;')
"' no supreme power except by the will of the people;" "no




A. D. 1776.]           AMERICA.                    423
dominant sect;" " no privileged birth; " " ln inequality of
condition."  Here were the exact statements in their theoretical essays translated into the reality of life-a vast struggle fairly entered upon between the British colonies, swelling
with those new ideas of univeral freedom  and fraternity, and
the old British crown relying on prescription and experience.
In 1774, the year of the king's accession, a Declaration of
Rights had been sent over to Europe along with other documents, by which the sympathies of all the generous and enlightened were demanded on behalf of the patriotic cause.
Already the American leaders had successfully resisted the
Stamp Act of 1767. They had also opposed a newly imposed
tax on tea and other commodities for the benefit of the
mother country; and, as is generally the case between near
relations, the quarrel became embitterel by the identity of
blood and character.  Obstinate Jonathan would not hear
reason, and obstinate John would not condescend to speak it.
Washington was now appointed commander-in-chief of all
the colonial forces by the different provincial assemblies; war
broke out and blood was shed in April 1775, and on the 4th
of July 1776 Congress issued a declaration of independence,
and took the name of United States.  Paris was in as high a
state of excitement and exasperation as Boston or New York.
The dreams of philanthropists had taken bodily shape, and
it was indispensable for the glory of France and the dignity
of human nature that the champions of liberty should be supported. Hundreds of young and ardent enthusiasts took out
their coroneted swords from the chest crowned wit)h armorial
bearings, where their ancestors of the feudal times had laid
them, to draw them in the cause of freedom, equality, and a
republic. But a bolder step was soon forced on the unwilling
king, and he dispatched an emissary in the name of France
with credentials to the Congress of America, and soldiers in
the uniform of France to support the insurrection.  Twelve
sail of the line, under the Count d'Estaing, were their convoy
across the Atlantic, and it must have been only with an
affected surprise that Louis reaped the fruits of this inter..




424              WAR WITH ENGLAND.           [A. D. 1778,
ference, in a war with England. In no other way, even by
open hostilities, could he have equally benefited the men of
Massachusetts and New York.  The Marquis de Lafayette,
one of the highest of the old nobility, was foremost in the
combats on their side, and the promulgation of their principles. He was citizen Lafayette, and scorned the title of marquis as a mark of the inferiority of his brother the smith or
ploughman.  Smiths and ploughmen in all parts of France
began to hear, from returning soldiers, reports of the proceedings across the sea. They heard of the gradual progress
of the popular cause; of battles where the English, when
conquerors, were not inclined to pursue their advantage
against their countrymen of the colonies, who only fought on
American soil for the same privileges which their ancestors
had won with the sword at home; of the necessity the English government accordingly experienced of employing mercenary troops of Hanoverians, Hessians, and other continental
populations, to coerce the free-spirited inhabitants of the
long-settled provinces on the Hudson and Delaware, who had
been as English in heart and feeling ten years before as the
men of Warwickshire or Devon. They discussed all these
things in their shops and barns, and began to think what an
oppressed and cowardly race they were to submit to a frippery
peerage and worldly church, while people of their own class
were achieving liberty and good government by courage and
combination. Louis the Sixteenth, as king and liberal, was
in a most painful and contradictory position. Every success
his confederates won over his enemies was a fresh blow at the
monarchic principle; every success gained by his enemies
over his allies strengthened the hands of his declared and inveterate foe. If England was weakened, monarchy felt the
stroke; if England was strengthened, France would feel her
vengeance. An unhappy fate where failure or triumph was
equally to be feared. But of the two, it was better to deprive
England of her power to harm; and the whole strength of
France was therefore roused to avenge the humiliation of the
Seven Years' War. France had come out of it stript of her




a. D. 1780.]   BLOCKADE OF GIBRALTAR.              42.
ships and colonies.  She had surrendered Canada and some
of her western islands, and all her hopes in India. Her rival
had planted her foot on the golden soil of Madras and Bengal, and was establishing an empire in the territories of the
Great Mogul, whose very name was a mysterious sound of
grandeur and wealth. From all that granary of riches and
fame the French younger sons were kept out by the Treaty
of Paris (1763), and they looked with disgust and hatred on
the rapidly acquired fortunes of the civil servants of the English India Company, who went out poor and came back with
the fabulous treasures of oriental kings. The bitterness of
international hatred had never been so great. In all quarters of the world France had been forced to succumb, and
now was the opportunity to be revenged for lost America, for
lost Hindostan, for lost Senegal, for the lost Rhine, and the
re-established Pyrenees. At first she appeared to have a certainty of success. The family compact had given her the
assistance of the Bourbons of Spain and Naples. VWith the
help of the Spanish fleets, a superiority was established for
three months over the British Channel and the M3editerranean.
Seventy sail of the line blockaded the approaches to Gibraltar, and appeared before Plymouth. An army was collected
on the shores of Brittany and Normandy, intended for the
invasion of England.  Citizen Lafayette came over from
America to take part in crushing the perfidious Albion, and
there were preparations for his hospitable reception all along
the English shore from Cornwall to Dover; but the invasion
never came.  Admiral Hardy cruised in the Channel with
thirty-eight men-of-war, and the combined French and Spanish fleet retired without a blow to their own harbours, with the
loss of five thousand men from a pestilence which had raged
in all the ships.
But other foes were gathering round England.  She had
irritated neutral nations by her exercise of the right of search,
and had very probably turned it to the advantage of her own
commerce by throwing obstacles in the way of the vessels of
other nations. Russia, Sweden and Denmark entered into




426            FRENCH AND SPANIARDS.           [D. n. 1782.
an armed neutrality for the defence of their mercantile flag,
a proceeding which had exactly the same effect in hampering
the movemenlts of England as open enmity would have had.
The Dutch were on the point of joining the northern powers,
and thus retaining all the advantages of peace while inflicting
the utmost injury on a rival; but England showed her appreciation of a disguised opposition by declaring war on the
astonished Hollanders, and seizing all their possessions in the
American seas.  She also sank or destroyed all their vessels
at home; and with all these enemies, open and concealed,
upon her hanls, prepared for the final relief of Gibraltar,
which had been assaulted by sea and land ever since July
1779. France did not limit her support of this celebrated
operation to the mere sending of her royal princes to perform
their first feats of arms under the Spanish commander Don
Alvarez. The Duke of Crillon brought also twelve thousand
French soldiers to the standard of the Spaniards, making an
army altogether of upwards of: forty thousand men.  The
fleet was on a still larger scale, and the munitions of war had
never been so prodigious in quantity and power since gunpowder was invented.  The garrison consisted of seven thousand men; and it appeared as if the contending nations had
chosen this as their field of trial, and rested the final result
of their struggle on the fate of the rock.  There were a thousand guns pouring night and day upon the fortress; fifty sail
of the line, and numberless floating batteries with very heavy
artillery, joined in the dreadful concert; and frigates, mortarboats, and vessels of every size and armament, filled up the
bay.  The average number of shells discharged upon the
town was six thousand a-day.
Elliot, the governor, however, and his garrison, were sustained by their own courage, and by the hope of a speedy
and glorious deliverance by the fleet of Rodlney, which had
gained a great victory over the Count de Grasse on the 12th
of April.  On the 13th of September, the same year, the
decisive trial was to be made by a number of fire-proof galleys
of a new construction, and the English general waited with




A. D. 1'782.]   INDEPENDENCE OF AMERICA.             427
impatience the effect of the terrible attack.  The flotilla was
assisted by nearly two hundred cannon, which Crillon had
directed against the fortifications, in addition to the usual
broadsides of the united fleets. In the midst of the smoke
and thunder of those innumerable guns, the English proceeded
to the lower part of their walls, and discharged red-hot balls
at the floating-batteries.  In spite of their double-lining of
wood, and their sheathing with sponge, and other appliances
for the extinction of flames, one after another of the impregnable mortar-boats was enveloped in fire. Terror spread through
the fleet.  With a generosity little practised at that time, the
English soldiers ran to the shore and saved several hundreds
of their terrified enemies, who tried to swim to landcl; and all
men perceived that the further prosecution of the siege was
vain. Lorcl Howe threw provisions and reinforcements into
the place, and the combined armies withdrew.
England, however, found it as much beyond her power to
subdue the Americans as the allies had found it:to take
Gibraltar by force. It was found how impossible it is to break
the spirit of a people who know the advantages of freedom,
and are in sufficient numbers to give effect to their resolution
to retain them.  Defeat was of no consequence-the tide
closed in after the successful column had passed on; and a
triumphant march across half the country left no more mark
of its passage than a ship in the sea.  Great men arise in
great emergencies, and America was happy in a band of patriots and gentlemen who gave a dignity to rebellion, by the
solemn spirit of duty and moderation with which they carried
it on. All the rules of honourable warfare were scrupulously
observed, so that the " rebels " found themselves treated with
a respect never shown to rebels before. Prisoners were taken
and exchanged-even the amenities of life were reciprocated
between the commanders; and perhaps this absen e of insulting retribution, and of the accompaniments of prisons and
scaffolds, which generally characterise a revolt, enabled both
parties to retire from the contest with feelings unembittered
and unhumiliatedcl. French science guiding American courage,




428                STATE OF FRANCE.          [A. D 1783.
half-zeal in the cause of repression, on the other side the cares
of a vast European war against France, Spain, Holland, and
in reality, though not in appearance, against Russia, Denmark, and Sweden, were too much for the unassisted power
of England. Peace was accordingly proclaimed on the 25th
November 1783; mutual restorations were made by the principal belligerents; and " the United States of America " were
recognised, in their treaty with the mother country, to be
sovereign and independent powers.
To have added so great a people to the family of nations
was a subject of pride to the French of all ranks and conditions. But the sight of their handiwork reminded them
painfully of the position still occupied by themselves. They
tried to commence a new career of equal laws and constitutional government, wheni the very traditions of equity or law
had died out from every mind. For the succeeding six years
efforts were continually made to arrest the onward course of
events; but all efforts were too late.  Sometimes there was
an attempt made by the oligarchs around the throne to reverse
the wheels, and retravel the same space that had been traversed since the death of the last king. A persistence in the
backward journey might succeed, it was fondly hoped, in
landing them in the happy days of Louis the Fourteenth and
undisputed power; and their measures were as impolitic as
their desires were impossible. At the very moment, for example, when the aid of France was given to the American
revolutionists, an edict was issued limiting commissions in
the French army to men who could prove a noble descent of
one hundred years at least. At the same period, also, when
the public thought was fixed on the amelioration of the condition of the lower orders, the military authorities tried to
introduce the brutal severity of the Prussian system, which
made the common soldier's position worse than the slave's,
and substituted the sergeant's cudgel and drummer's lash for
the milder discipline which had won the victories of Cond6
and Treunne. Debt went on accumulating all this time, and
some few clear-eyed persons saw the inevitable end. The




A. D. 1787.]   ASSEMBLY OF NOTABLES.               429
marvel now is how any one could be blind to it. There were
only three classes in France —the nobility, the priests, and the
"roturiers."  The soil of the country was divided between
them, but in very unequal proportions. The nobility and
priests held fully two-thirds, and the remainder was parcelled
out into infinitely small tenures, and belonged to the starving
and unhappy millions. WTe are to remember that the Church
and nobility were exemptecl from the greatest part of the
taxes, and that therefore the whole burdens of the State fell
upon the smallest portion of the land. We must remember,
also, that the nobility were not resident on the estates from
which their incomes were derived, and that the cures and
inferior clergy, who represented the order in outlying villages
and hamlets, were miserably paid, while the wealth of half
the country went to the fashionable bishops and unbelieving
abbes who glittered in the salons of the wickedest and gayest
metropolis in the world. The lower priesthood was as discontented as the farmer and cottar.
The system of minute subdivision of the land had been
long at work in France, and had weakened the power of resistance to injustice, which only territorial influence, on a great
scale, can give. The landed pauper had no means of combination or enlightenment, and had sunk for many years into moody
acquiescence in a state of affairs over which he had no control. The taxes absorbed nearly two-thirds of the gross value
of his land; and if he rented a field from a neighbouring
noble, his share of the proceeds sank to almost a nominal
sum. Yet he was one of a body who constituted in fact the
whole of the country; for the number of the upper classes
was not more than a hundred and fifty thousand, and the
population was already twenty-five millions of souls. Still,
however, fresh taxes were imposed; and still the expenditure
exceeded the income by seven millions a-year. Calonne was
appointed finance-minister by the influence of Marie Antoinette, and repaid his patroness by giving her unlimited sums
from the exchequer to be employed in her feasts and balls.
Within the charmed circle of Versailles and the Trianon, the




4,30                STATES-GENERAL.           [A. D. 1788,
dream of Arcadian happiness still went on. There were assemblages of the most amazing brilliancy, and court shows
which had never been surpassed for beauty or extravagance,
while France lay groaning and writhing beneath the weight
that pressed it to the ground.:At last Calonne could give
no more; taxes would yield no return.  The king heard of
the distresses of his people, and pitied them; but what could
he do?  He was nearly as impoverished as the rest; and as
a last chance of alleviating the burdens by increasing the
number of contributaries, he had recourse to the dangerous
expedient of summoning a meeting of the Notables-or chief
nobility and magistrates-to consult on public affairs. The
Notables assembled, and discovered that the source from which
their pensions and bribes were derived was utterly exhausted,
but declined to come to the rescue of the State by sacrificing
a shilling of their wealth or one iota of their privileges.. They
made up, however, in malice what they wanted in patriotism,
and scattered irritating reports of the national distress, and
the expenditure of a dissolute court, in all parts of the count
try, when their session came to a close.
Affairs had now got beyond the possibility of being patched
up by temporary expedients, and Brienne, Archbishop of
Toulouse, who succeeded Calonne in the finances, tallied
flippantly and lightly of a new convocation of the StatesGeneral, without being in the least aware of what these terrible words implied. WVe have not heard of the meeting of
such a body since the ominous days when Richelieu made his
first appearance in the Assembly of 1614. Since that time
the existence of a constitution had been almost forgotten, for
the tyrannies of the three kings that intervened had been a
virtual suspension of every power except their own. But the
convocation of a States-General, where, as in an English parliament, every order in the nation had a voice, was hailed as
an acknowledgment that power proceeded from the people.
The statements of the philosophers were now to be verified,
and king, lords and commons to be placed in their exact
positions-no authority conflicting with another, but all work



A. D. 1789.] MEETING OF THE STATES-GENERAL.        431
ing harmoniously to one -end-the universal good. Never
was such a unanimous acclamation of delight and anticipation
uttered by a hopeful and enraptured people, as when the
States-General assembled on the 1st of May, 1789. This was
no creation of a royal edict like a new court of parliament,
nor a nominated assembly like the municipality of a town. It
was a great national convocation, founded on the principle of
almost universal suffrage (for no vote was rejected at the
polling-places throughout the land, which any tolerably
dressed individual offered). Chosen in this manner by three
millions of voices, it was evident the members of the Tiers
Etat carried with them the influence of a representative
body. They represented the whole of the untitled, unprivileged multitude by whom France was inhabited, while the
Church and nobility rested on their own authority.  It was
a tremendous experiment, and never would have been tried
if the upper ranks had known that the constituents of the
assembly were starving, and embittered, to an unspeakable
degree, against their oppressors, clerical and lay. These delegates of the poor were to meet under the same roof with the
titled aristocrats who had trampled on their social rights and
domestic affections so long, and with the mitred lords who
had extracted their last sheaves of corn, and had grasped the
lands which tradition told them had once belonged to their
fathers. Under the same roof was near enough; but when it
was arranged that they should meet in the same room, and
have an equal number of votes in the decision of the question
submitted to them, the friendly barriers of the tournament
were thrown down, and the battle to the death began.  The
opponents sat face to face-the pale, thoughtful, emaciated
face of the suffering and revengeful Tiers Etat; the bloated,
handsome, contemptuous face of the high-born bishop and
polished duke. They must have looked at each other with
strangely ominous eyes when they met for the first time, and
Jacques Bonhomme examined the Marquis of Carabas across
the gulf of so many hundred years. But it was not only
Jacques Bonhomme in his own person who came into such




432            THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY.         [A. D. 17so.
close proximity with his ancient lord. HIe might not have
been so hostile, for his requirements might have been more
easily satisfied. But the Tiers Etat, besides many men of its
own order, had sent up, as its representatives, a more dangerous class than even the ruined shopkeeper or oppressed farmer.
The struggling lawyers of the different county courts-the
educated professional men, who looked down intellectually on
the privileged vicomte, but were kept in perpetual remembrance of their plebeian birth by the social superiority bestowed
upon the trifling and half-instructed noble;-the aspiring
youth, too wealthy for the ranks, too plebeian for the epaulets,
who had read of the battles of his country, and had longed to
follow to the field some warlike lord, with the hope of succeeding to the baton of  Du Guesclin or Clisson.  These were
deputed to make a statement of their grievances in face of
hereditary judges, ignorant of law and science, and of holiday
soldiers who were covered with decorations, and had never
fired a shot. The representatives of the Tiers Etat felt with
bitterer enmity than their constituents the disadvantages of
their position, for education and refinement had added a feeling of degradation to the other sentiments the aristocracy had
excited; and it is not too much to say that the desire to feed
their great revenge against the tinselled and disdainful coxcomb, who plumed himself on his family name, was more
ardent and sincere, even at the commencement, than the loftier
ideas they professed to entertain. Down with rank became,
therefore, the rallying cry of the lawyers, doctors, cures-for
many of these were elected by the Tiers Etat-even more
earnestly uttered than justice or reform.  Dissensions began
in a week after the meeting had been translated to Versailles.
The priests and nobles still persisted in demanding to sit in
a separate chamber from the commons. The commons, on
the other hand, invited the other orders to join them in their
hall, to proceed to the despatch of business; and when their invitation was rejected, they solemnly constituted themselves into
"The National Assembly," and by this measure excluded the
recalcitrant aristocrats altogether from the management of pub



&. D. 1789.]   VIOLENCE OF THE KING.               432
lic affairs. In vain did dukes and archbishops complain of
this unexampled usurpation of supreme power. The king was
undecided and alarmed: accordingly, his proceedings were
fatal; for indecision and alarm make all actions ill-timed, and
injudiciously severe. He prorogued the Assembly for a month,
and stationed soldiers at the door to prevent the members
from going in. Their president, Bailly, when crossed bayonets
refused them admission, led them to the Tennis Court of the
palace, and there they took an oath never to dissolve till the
object for which they met had been secured.
An attempted violence, like the unhappy king's, is either
a victory or a suicide.  A  large secession, principally of
clergy, took place from the other orders; and transports of
joy heralded the appearance in the hall of the Tiers Etat of
three archbishops at the head of a hundred and forty-eight
priests.  The nobility gathered close upon the heels of the
Church, led by the Duke of Orleans, who lent the disgraceful
aid of his royal countenance to the popular cause, and recalled by his name and character the licentious excesses of his
grandfather the regent, but without his redeeming virtues of
courage and generosity. Beside him sat the hero of the late
American struggle, the friend of Franklin and WVashington
-the Marquis de Lafayette-a figure whom we shall see at
intervals holding a distinguished place on the historic stage,
but yielding on all occasions to some higher and stronger nature than his own-an incarnation of mediocrity and good intentions. Incarnation of high powers and selfish motives,
near them sat Mirabeau, the noble who had been a tribune
of the people-the wickedest and most debauched aristocrat
in France, who had given his unequalled eloquence and
firmness of purpose to the regeneration of his country.
All writers agree in describing the greatest genius whom the
assembly contained, as the ideal of personal ugliness, but so
redeemed by the expression of power which sat upon his
harsh and striking features, that the most perfect of sculptured heads could not have possessed half their sublimity and
fascination.  He was like what poets have described " the
28




434                 BASTILE TAKEN.           [A. D. 1i789.
archangel ruined," where the lightning-scars which have de.
stroyed the symmetry of his face have ennobled it into a
more awful kind of beauty. Different from him, and near
him, was the small person and commonplace countenance of
Robespierre,-grinning, smirking, and  contemptible,-but
ere many months were over, spreading a thrill of terror
through the stoutest hearts, when his ill-omened calmness of
look and manner appeared above the sides of the tribune.
The king, who had at first refused the Assembly a place to
meet in, now yielded all their demands.  He abolished the
privileges of birth and profession; taxes were imposed upon
all equally; and the career of civil and military life was
thrown open to every Frenchman.  The public debt was secured, the press was declared free, personal and religious liberty was guaranteed, and municipal councils were constituted
in all parts of the country.  But the Tiers Etat were not satisfied with a mere declaration of the royal intentions, and declined to intermit their meetings till they saw these reforms
in practice.  The king again threatened, and again withdrew
his threats.  Confident in their power and numbers, the
Tiers Etat disregarded equally the threats and the withdrawal. The authority of the king was openly overthrown, and
the Assembly was paramount in the State.  Meanwhile all.Paris was in a state of insane commotion. Clubs, meetings,
associations of all kinds, kept every quarter of the great city
alive. Enthusiasm grew with every fresh event, and already
the thirst for blood, which so strongly distinguishes the Parisian mob, began to fire the hearts of the rabble. The report
ran round from the H6tel de Ville to the Palais Royal that
the soldiers were on their march to dissolve the National Assembly.  A militia was instantly formed —guns procuredand tricoloured flags hoisted on public buildings. Huzzaing
— maddened and drunk with wine and excitement —the populace rushed toward the Bastile. After a short resistance
they burst into that old stronghold of despotism, and dragging the governor to the Place de Greve, they put him and
his subordinate officers to death, and bore their heads fixed




A. D. 1789.]      SANGUINARY SCENES.                 435
upon pikes through the streets.  The tiger had now tasted
his favourite feast, and there was no restraining him  from
his hideous repast. The nobility, however, continued still te
hope. They were misled by the respectful and graceful manners for which the French were famous, even in the lowest
ranks.  There was the same lifting of the hat, the same reverence of the body; and they considered that all was well.
But news, which travelled slow in those days, came up from
their patrimonial castles. The peasantry had risen with torch
and pitchfork.  Their fine old buildings had been burned;
the charter-chests ransacked, and the title deeds of their estates committed to the flames.  Their towns had been seized
by the rabble, who had installed their favourites and flatterers in the chairs of magistracy.  There was but one corner
of all the country comparatively quiet, and that was La Vendee, a remote county on the shores of the Atlantic, where
the patricians lived upon their lands, performed the duties
of their station, and were kind to the poor and respectful to
the Church.  In every other province, and district, and parish, the same sanguinary scenes were enacted as in the capital. Nothing is more clearly ascertained than the fact of
torture being applied to the unhappy victims who fell into
the rabble's power. They burnt their former masters (sometimes their benefactors) before slow  fires.  They hacked
them to pieces before the eyes of their wives and children; and
drove young and delicately nurtured girls into the woods, or left
them to perish on the roads.  Every locality had its civic or
national guard.  The regular army had joined the people;
and there were some half a million of armed men, wearing
the three-coloured cockade, and preventing the possibility of
a contrary opinion being heard.  The king made his' appearance before the Assembly at Versailles, and adopted the Tricolor. It must have been the severest of his sufferings at
that time to exchange the time-honoured Lilies of France
for the livery of the house of Orleans and the colours of Paris, which in union constituted the new flag.  But he was rewarded by the enthusiastic shouts of a drunken and furious




436             FLIGHT OF THE NOBLES.         [A. D. 1789
population, and thought he had saved the country by sacrificing his personal power.  Other eyes saw clearer.  His
brother of Artois, afterwards Charles the Tenth, and many
princes and nobles, deserted him in this great extremity, and
carried their complaints and selfishness into other lands. If
they had staid at home they might have arrested and regulated the torrent, or been nobly engulfed in its vortex; but
to beg4 and petition at the footstool of foreign despots, to desire the restoration of their rank and riches at the price of
the conquest and degradation of France-this was the blot
that never was cleared off from the shields of the old nobility.
Their departure strengthened the enemies of their order, and
gave them  the excuse of a fear of foreign arms. Neckar,
the banker of Geneva, had been recalled to manage the finances.  There were no finances to manage, for how could taxes
be collected when half the land was in flames, and all men
either trembled for their lives or were struggling to distinguish themselves in the great contest going on between the
past and the future?  The present was a narrow isthmus
destined in the imagination of the patriotic dreamers, who
called themselves politicians, to unite the solid qualities of
the middle ages with the liberty, happiness, and equality of
the coming time. It did not matter how rough its ways
might be, since they conducted to so delightful a scene. And
its ways became rough and terrible, and almost impassable,
they were so slippery with blood.
A regiment had come up from the country, and relieved
guard at Versailles.  The regiment in garrison invited the
officers to dinner.  In the midst of their carousals the king
and queen went into the room to congratulate them on their
arrival.  The officers were all noble and young; they were
heated with champagne-they saw their monarch and the
still fair daughter of Maria Theresa smiling their welcome.
They drank the dreadful toast of the king for ever! and
threw their tricolors under the table. Louis and Marie Antoinette retired pleased though alarmed, but the multitudes of
Parif. heard of the event,  Thousands of women of the wild




A. D. 1790.]            ASSIGNATS.                 437
est appearance anct lowest manners toiled down on the 5th of
October to Versailles. They gathered round the Assembly
Hall, and gained admittance to the king. They demanded
two things-neither of which his majesty could bestow-a
constitution and bread, for there had been a bad harvest; the
fields had been neglected; there was no money to pay for imported corn. The population was roused-and hungry. Thousands of idle, dissolute, cruel, revengeful men followed the female procession. When they had had their smooth speeches
from the king, and their vain assurances from the Assembly,
they still lingered about Versailles. A great rain came on;
they were tired and thirsty, and wet to the skin. Some of them,
when it began to grow darkl, discovered an entrance near the
chapel, and were repelled by the guards. They persisted, and
poured on. A foolish soldier fired upon the people, and the
fight began.  Shoal after shoal of the maddened furies of Paris-of the basest and most degraded wretches a great capital
hides from the eyes of the better inhabitants, but nourishes
in the darkness till some great convulsion exposes the hideous
brood to the light of day-went up the princely steps of that
palatial home. They forced their way even into the bedchamber of the queen, who had only time to escape by a secret passage.  Where were the two regiments which had uttered such shouts about the king for ever, and trampled the
cockade under foot? If the officers had moved, their own
men would have slain them  without remorse. Versailles,
therefore, was no longer safe. The king and all his family
removed into Paris, amidst the acclamations of innumerable
crowds on the following day, and never saw the stately alleys
and majestic apartments of that royal residence again.
Things rolled onward with the force and impetuosity of
some vast pinnacle which an earthquake has shaken from the
sumlmit of a mountain.  The Assembly, in the absence of
money, issued a number of " assignats," or paper obligations,
which were to pass as coin. This currency, if good for little
else, was good enough to buy the estates of the Church,
which were secularised, and put up to open sale. A crown



438                   MIRABEAU.              [A. D. 179i
piece in silver soon bought a hundred pounds' worth of these
paper notes, for the flight across the frontiers continued.
Dukes, marquises, bishops, abbes, disguised in many forms,
effected their escape with all the goods they could carry.
Gold in incredible sums was smuggled into foreign lands, or
buried beneath well-known trees in secret parts of their parks
and gardens. Ladies carried with them their jewels and or-'
naments. Even the friends of the Revolution hoarded all the
silver they possessed, and a circulating medium actually disappeared. Faster and faster the stream of emigration flowed
on. The Assembly imposed a treble tax on the property of the
refugees, and decreed worse penalties on any who should henceforth leave the country. A line was drawn round the borders
on all sides, and made escape more difficult. Mirabeau, however, the fiery master of the Assembly, had softened in his feelings towards the Crown. His youthful prejudices in favour of
rank and antiquity began to revive. He thundered from the
tribune against the excesses to which enthusiasm was pushing
them blindly, and lost perhaps the glory of having moderated
the Revolution into a reformation by an untimely death in
1791.  The king despaired at last when the Titan in whose
strength he trusted was laid low. He fled; but bad management, as usual, uncertainty, timidity, and want of counsel, ruined his plan. He was captured at Varennes, and from
that time was a prisoner as if he had been taken in war. He
was allowed, indeedl, to go through the vain form of accepting the constitution the Assembly had prepared, with limits
on the royal power and responsibility to the nation: but at
that very time the great majority were in favor of a republic;
and in all the clubs, furious demagogues excited the passions
of the populace into hatred of the kingly name.
A new element came into the strife when Louis announced his constitutional royalty to the other crowned heads of
Europe.  They all felt their dignity outraged and their -seats
endangered. Armies were raised by Austria and Prussia, in
readiness to defend the royal cause. The emigrants, who had
been cowards enough to fly from their own land, were bold




A. D. 1792.]   MASSACRE OF SWISS GUARDS.           439
enough to vapour with sword in hand on the other bank of
the Rhine. Nor was war a disagreeable movement to the
opposite party. Dumouriez, a member of the Legislative
Assembly, perceived that the only chance of domestic unity
was in turning the national feeling into a new channel-a
channel which, by carrying off the wilder spirits in a fresh
and hitherto unexplored career, with the motto of "a fair
field and no favour," would divert the republicans from their
attacks upon the throne. MWar was, therefore, declared
against the Empire on the 20th April, 1792. Never was
prospect apparently so hopeless as met the generals in that
eventful year. The treasury was empty, the nation divided,'the government inexperienced and weak,- and the king, in
whose name the campaign was opened, the most hated man
in his-dominions. In Paris he continued, indeed, to be so
grossly insulted, that Lafayette himself came to the rescue,
and endeavoured to save him from insults and danger by his
influence with the mob. The mob, however, allows no influence to any one who does not really or avowedly execute its
will. Lafayette, therefore, went to the king, and told him
the time was come for more resolute measures. He must
leave Paris; but not disgraced and as a fugitive; but sword
in hand, mounted on his horse, surrounded by his friends, andc
place himself at the head of the army. If Louis had been
capable of understanding this counsel, it never would have
been required. Hie would have risked or lost all long ago.
He let " I dare not wait upon I would," and the opportunity
was lost.: Enemies assembled in growing numbers on the
frontiers —Austrians, Prussians, and other Germans-and
manifestoes were issued by the generalissimo of the invading
armies, which irritated the people and ruined the king. The
Tuileries was attacked by a furious multitude, though Louis
had fled for safety to the hall of the Assembly; and all his
servants and friends, and the gallant Swiss Guard, who defended their post to the last, were massacred on the stairs
and in the corridors. Drunken revelry and heaps of dead
defiled the palace of France.  The Legislative Assembly was




440         ROBESPIERRE, MARAT, DANTON.   [A. D. 1792,
as furious as the wildest of the mob.  It abrogated the kingly. power, threw down the statues of all former monarchs;
including Henry the Fourth's, and imprisoned the royal family in the Temple. To give force to these infractions of the
constitution, to which all parties had so lately sworn, it sumtmoned a National Convention. When the news of this proceeding was conveyed to Lafayette, he declared his intention
of remaining true to his recent oaths. _An order of arrest
was issued, and the champion of liberty in both the hemispheres was forced to fly for his life.  He came into the Austrian dominion, and as the  republicans at home had denounced him as a royalist, the Emperor and the refugees denounced him  as a republican.  He saved his head from the
French guillotine, and pined for five years in the dungeon of
Olmfitz; a terrible state of affairs, when moderation comes
to be considered a crime. It is only just to this true gentleman, whose talent was not equal to his heart, to record his
noble words: " Let us have the love of liberty for our guide;
but let us never forget that liberty, severe in all its principles,
fears license as much as tyranny, and that to conquer and retain it is less the reward of' courage than the triumph of virtue."
Three men came prominently forward at this time, to
show the triumph of virtue by which liberty is secured.
Robespierre, Marat, and Danton, represented in their three
characters the falsehood, selfishness, and fanaticism to which
the excesses of the Revolution are due.  Robespierre glosed
and flattered till his opportunity came, and then he gave license to his hatred and suspicions. Marat proclaimed the
equality of all men before the sword of the executioner and
the word of a dictator giving utterance to the popular will.
Danton was a sincere enthusiast, and perhaps was more dangerous on this account than the designing hypocrite or the
raging madman, his compeers.  A  tribunal was erected on
the 17th of August, 1792, by the Sections of the town, to
take cognisance of political crimes more rapidly than the
ordinary courts.  Then began the system of indiscriminate




A. D. 1793.]      DEATH OF LOUIS.                  441
slaughter which made Paris a byword among the nations, and
affixed an ineffaceable stain on the French name. Thousands
were arrested on suspicion, and murdered in the prisons. An
armed mob waited at the doors of the different jails, where
the suspected conspirators were undergoing a trial by members of the new tribunal; and on the appearance of the culprits, whether acquitted or not, fell on them indiscriminately
-for sex gained no distinction-and put them to death with
clubs and stones. Priests were slain wherever they appeared.
Rich and poor began to be so confounded in the common destruction, that beggars, shopkeepers, and starving artisans,
were hurried to the guillotine as aristocrats. Higher and
higher rose the tide, and at last reached the walls of the
Temple, where Louis the Sixteenth was confined. He was
tried on the 6th of November, for treason to the nation, and
defended by Malesherbes, now old and feeble, whom we remember forming part of the government with IMaurepas and
Turgot in the first brilliant days of the unhappy prince's
reign. He gained only the glory of having risked his life by
saying a word in favor of the predestined victim; and the
most innocent and well-intentioned of' all the monarchs of
France was condemned like a common felon to the guillotine
on the 21st of January, 1793. For a short time the strangeness of the spectacle imposed silence upon the brutalised
crowd who had gathered around the scaffold. It was a king
come to expiate the crimes of his ancestors and of his position, not his own. He had never made a personal enemy or
lost a personal friend. He began an address to the spectators, but a sign from the harsh commander of the guard produced a roll of the drums which drowned his voice. The executioners seized him and laid him under the fatal axe. The
priest in attendance said simply, " Son of St Louis, ascend
to Heaven!' and all was over.
It was in the magnificent open space where the Tuileries
gardens extend to the Place Royale that this miserable crime
was perpetrated. All the fountains that now ornament the
scene cannot wash away that innocent and uselessly shed




442                PLACE ROYALE.           L[A. D. 1792.
blood. On:looking up the long avenue of noble architecture
on-either hand, you see on one side the beautiful fagade of the
Church of the Madeleine, and on the other, the simple outline of the House of Representatives. A poet would be pardoned if he found Law and Religion looking with tearful
eyes on the central spot where the great tragedy took place.
The historian must be satisfied with the prosaic statement,
that law and religion were equally outraged by the s.ufferings
of this honest-hearted king and inoffensive man.




CHAPTER XVIII.
THE REPUBLIC.-THE CONVENTION.-A. D. 1793 TO, 1795.
THE natural feelings of mankind would, under other circumstances, have rebelled against the atrocities which followed
the execution of the king; but the atrocities were so vast
and so overwhelming, that they prevented the natural feelings from finding vent. The wilder spirits of the movement
expected their only security in the excesses of their behaviour,
and a system was now commenced among the legislators of
the land, of bidding for power and popularity by exceeding
each other in the fierceness and infamy of their propositions.
The Convention itself was divided into factions, who panted
for each other's blood. Marat, the most brutal of men, for a
long time contested the place of honour with the supple and
insinuating Robespierre.  Danton, thie other embodiment of
the evil passions of the time, had no thought of anything but
perpetual excitements to the mob, and murder on the streets
of Paris. The formation of a Committee of Public Safety,
composed of the most ferocious members of the Convention,
was a deathblow to any hope which might still have been entertained of clemency or reason. The party of the Girondists,
who were respectable for their talent and eloquence, and the
comparative moderation which distinguished their political
views, were defeated in their efforts to resist the torrent of
slaughter and demoralisation, and miserably perished either
by the axe or by positive starvation on the public roads; for
the enemy of the Convention, like the enemy of the Pope in
the old days of excommunication, became an outcast whom




444'            CHARLOTTE CORDAY.           [A. D. 1793
no one would feed, or clothe, or entertain. A few struggled
on, for a short time, in hopeless resistance to the demagogues
who had set a price upon their heads; and some of them had
found a temporary resting-place in the town of Caen.
From this old burial-place of our Norman kings a young
woman made her way to Paris on the 11th July, 1793. The
great agony of the period had extended to young and oldto girls and boys. This young woman, whose name was
Charlotte Corday, was about four-and-twenty years of age,
with a very noble figure and beautiful countenance.  She
had studied the career of the Girondists, and inflamed her
mind with the picture they drew of the happiness of France
if freed from the oppression of the tyrants who trampled on
her in the name of freedom. A new Joan of Arc, she had
fed her solitary imaginings with the idea of some great deed
to be performed by herself; and, without counsellor or accomplice, she presented herself at the house of the redoubtable Marat. He was in his bath, and could not be seen. His
mistress looked in the pleading face of the sweet-voiced,
gentle-mannered young girl from Caen, and admitted her to
the room. She stabbed the monster with a knife, and laid it
on the floor. He shrieked for aid, and Charlotte was seized,
standing quietly by the window; the work, she knew, was
done, and she was ready to receive the wages. But assassination is always fatal to the party that descends to it.  The
illegal vengeance on such a person as Marat increased the
evil it was intended to cure. Robespierre had now no rival in
his mastery of the Committee, and carried intimidation to its
utmost limits. lHe procured the condemnation, with equal
ease and equal equanimity, of friend and foe. He guillotined
the high-born Marie Antoinette, the queen of festivals in her
youth, the queen of sorrows in her premature old age; he
guillotined the Duke of Orleans-foul descendant of foul
progenitors-who had voted for the death of Louis, and tried
to curry favour with the mob by taking the absurd name of
Philip Equality; he guillotined also the learned and philosophic Bailly, President of the Constituent Assembly, who




A. D. 1793.]    CRUELTIES AT NANTES.               445
had been Mayor of Paris in the first days of the Revolution,
and only stopped short in his support of it when its excesses
began.
Old friends come out upon us in this dreadful dance of
death, whom we have not seen for many years-Malesherbes,
the virtuous and courageous advocate of Louis-Danton himself, the mouthpiece of so many murders-and, strangest
sight of all, an old woman dragged on a hurdle from the
prison where she had lain a long time, and recognised, by the
aged among the spectators, as the famous Countess du Barri,
who had been the ruler and tyrant of the court of Louis the
Fifteenth, and now, after an interval of upwards of twenty
years, was paying the penalty of her dishonourable rise and
ill-used power. It is a pleasant thing to observe that this
destruction of all human feelings-this total reversal of all
the dictates of justice, mercy, and truth-could not be carried
on under even a nominal submission to the Christian faith.
The same voices which proclaimed the slaughter of the inhabitants of a country town, abolished the worship and denied the existence of God. They raised in His place an idol
to be adored-a woman of the lowest class, representative of
a Grecian image before whom prostrations were made, and
flambeaux kept burning to symbolise the Light of Reason;
and before this frightful mockery bishops and priests fell down
in reverence, and made open profession of their disbelief.
Murders all this time were practised in the secondary towns
and cities with as much vigour as in the capital. A  man
called Carrier is badly eminent among the commissioners of
the Committee; he presided at Nantes. He seemed to have
a morbid preference for the most revolting crimes: he ordered
as many women as men to be shot in cold blood. Five hundred children of both sexes, the eldest being under fourteen
years of age, were taken forth for execution. The shortness
of their stature saved many from the range of the musketballs. They broke their bonds, and ran for safety even among
the battalions of the executioners. They crept between their
legs, and embraced their knees, and looked imploringly and




446            DEATH OF ROBESPIERRE.           [A. D. 1794
terrified into their faces. Nothing moved those exterminators'
hearts; they slew them as they lay at their feet. But shooting was tedious; boats were filled with women, who in many
instances had babies at the breast, and taken out into the
middle of the Loire; the plugs were withdrawn from the
bottom, and' the hapless cargo left to drown in sight of both
shores.
These details will be sufficient; but what the royalist
historians dwell on most strongly is the extraordinary fact
that, after the first delirium of revenge had soothed itself in
the slaughter of nobles and priests, it was awakened to tenfold fury by the sight of its plebeian and powerless friends.
Out of eighteen thousand six hundred and thirteen victims
in the criminal lists made by the republican Prudhomme,
there are only two thousand and twenty-eight aristocrats,
male and female; three hundred and fifty nuns; eleven hundred and thirty-five priests; but there are fourteen hundred
and sixty-seven wives of labourers and artisans, and thirteen
thousand six hundred and thirty-three non-nobles of different
conditions. Some knowledge of this appalling fact must have
begun to spread in the summer of 1794. The Convention
itself became alarmed at the powers it had committed to the
Revolutionary Tribunal over which Robespierre had established a complete mastery.  His wordl was law; and it was easy,
from his obscure hints, and sometimes from his open threatenings, to perceive that no man's life was safe. Tallien, whose
name ought to receive some redeeming light from the effort
he now made, denounced the uncontrolled dictator and ruthless murderer in full assembly. If there had been a moment's
hesitation, the assembly itself would have been massacred on
the spot. But they assumed a dignity to which their previous
actions had ill entitled them, and received the accusation.
Robespierre fled to the Hotiel de Ville, to the protection of
his dependant, Henriot the mayor. Attempts were made to
excite an uproar in his favour; but the populace hated where
they feared, and refused the call. Troops were marched down
with bayonet and cannon, and Robespierre, after an ineffectual




A.D. 1794.1    ALLIES INVADE FRANCE.               447
attempt at suicide, was taken.  Spiritless and subdued, he
showed on the scaffold the cowardice which always accompanies cruelty, and was mocked for not knowing how to die
after having.  sentenced so many to death. This most just
retaliatory execution took place on the 28th July, 1794, and
the Reign of Terror came to a close.
Now if we bear in mind the hideous scenes perpetually
presented in the towns and villages of France, the frightful
uprising of all the worst passions of our nature, and the apparent disruption of all the bonds of social existence, we shall
feel our minds filled with involuntary admiration when we see
the immense effort the country was making at the very same
time against a coalition of almost all the powers of Europe.
While she was marching her long array of sufferers to the guillotine, there were pouring out from the gates of all her cities
interminable files of her defenders. The royal army had not
been dissolved, it had only changed its colours. The ranks
were filled with men who had seen the angry front of roughvisaged war, and their officers were now selected from among
themselves; no man was shut out from hope by the accident
of his birth. And along all the roads that led to the frontier,
thousands of stout young fellows, who had never handled deadlier weapon than hedging-bill or pruning-hook, were armed,
drilled, and regimented in the course of the march; and with
the military instinct which has always characterised the
French peasantry, they presented themselves to the delighted
general on the Rhine, or in the Low Countries, not only
conscripts who swelled his numbers, but trustworthy soldiers
who stood as firm as the veterans of the host. All Paris, in
the pauses between the butchery of the victims-while the
guillotine for a short space stood still-accompanied the young
volunteers a mile or two along the road, joining in the famous
Marseillaise, a hymn of patriotism which is still cherished
among the French as connected with the triumphs, however
short-lived, of their efforts at liberty, and returned to the
f'ror; of the Town-Hall, or the Place Royale, to attend the
execution of the remaining aristocrats of the day. Meantime




448        LOUIS PHILIPPE AT JEMIAPPES.   [A. D. 1792.
the soldiers increased their pace, and with great reason, for
the Duke of Brunswick had passed the boundaries, and was
besieging Thionville; the Prussians were gathering for the
attack, and the combined Imperialists were on their way to
the Rhine. Before they had reached the scene of action the
invaders had taken Verdun, and were in full march on Paris
by way of Chalons and the forest of Argonne. Dumouriez
had only time to summon Beurnonville from Lille, and Kellerman from Metz. The Prussians, by an able manceuvre, got
between the French forces and the capital, and there seemed
nothing to prevent their advance.  But Dumouriez came up
with them at Valmy, and after a connonade of fourteen hours
and great exertions on both sides, the invaders were forced to
retreat, and Paris was saved. This battle, the first of the
Revolutionary army against a foreign enemy, was fought on
the 20th September 1792; and it was afterwards remarked,
as a strange coincidence, that at the very time when Louis
Philippe, the young Duke of Chartres, was distinguishing
himself as an aide-de-damp of Dumouriez in defending the
sacred soil, his father, the infamous Duke of Orleans, was
taking his seat in the National Convention with the intention
of procuring the murder of his cousin the king. The French
army pursued its success, crossed over into Belgium, and,
after a brilliant victory at Jemappes —where the same young
aide-de-camp was of essential service in restoring confidence
to a battalion which had begun to waver under the terrible
Austrian fire-overran the whole country like a flood, and
effected the conquest of the Austrian Netherlands.  But the
following spring brought a disaster to the army at Neerwinden,
and the fickleness of the Convention was instantly seen. It
suspected Dumouriez of betraying the country to the enemy,
of hostility to the government, and even of a design to set
the crown upon the head of the young Duke of Chartres, and
establish him as a constitutional king.  To be suspected or
accused by that iniquitous assembly was to be pronounced
guilty; and Dnumouriez, after trying in vain the personal attachment of his troops, despaired of stopping the horrors of




A. D. 1793.1    TOULON HELD BY ENGLAND.            449
the Revolution by force, and retired with his staff and a few
friends into the enemy's camp. Among his aides-cle-camp
we have already mentioned Louis Philippe. He accompanied
his chief into exile, and brought such discredit by this action
on the name of Bourbon that his father was arrested as an
aristocrat in disguise, and unable to conceal the anti-liberal
feelings of a prince even under the nickname of Philip
Equality.  The defection of Dumouriez appeared fatal to the
cause in a military point of view; and other calamities fell
upon the Convention. La Vend6e, in the extreme west, took
up arms for Church and King; Brittany and Normandy protested against the powers of the Committee of Public Safety;
the departments of the south were discontented with the predominance arrogated by the north; and in the midst of these
domestic troubles Sardinia and Spain were arming behind their
respective boundaries, and ready to pour down from their hills
upon the plain. Nothing daunted, the millions were still
ready to rise; a levy-in-mass was decreed, and the country
declared in danger.
If ever country was in danger of falling into utter ruin
from intestine quarrels and external assault, France was in
that fearful state at this time, for Marseilles was in insurrection, La Vendee in arms, and successful over the few
troops yet sent against it; and a new enemy was brought
into the field in the shape of England.  She had been driven
into war by the proceedings of the Convention, and now accepted the custody of the great arsenal and fortress of Toulon;
which the royalist insurgents delivered into her hands.  Eng —
land, Austria, Prussia, Spain, Sardinia, a third of her own
population, and many of her strongest towns, opposed to
her-a ferocious assembly howling mad imprecations against
disobedient subjects and foreign foes-all the aristocratic prejudices of Europe roused against her by her treatment of the
nobles, all the religious feelings of Europe united against her
by her treatment of the Church, France yielded not a jot in
heart or hope, but like the old Greek hero, stamped with her
feet, and armed men arose. An army was sent to Marseilles;
29




450           ATTACKED BY BUONAPARTE.    [A. n. 1i793.
fresh thousands poured into La Vendee; another vast array
was directed upon Lyons, and a fourth took station on the
heights above Toulon. A wondrous view presented itself to
their eyes, for the great basin was filled with ships, English,
Spanish, and French. The English colours, joined to the fleurcle-lis, floatecl upon the walls; and outside of the harbour an
English fleet, commanded by Lord Hood, seemed to guard its
acquisition with an impregnable line of power. The tremendous efforts made by France at this time might be the result
of madness or despair, or heroic self-devotion, or patriotism, or
whatever you like to name it; but they were successful. Kellerman in the Alps; Houchard and Jourdan at Hondshoot, near
Dunkirk; and Hoche upon the Moselle, reaped the first harvest
of the newly-unfurled tricolor. La Venclee was compressed if
not conquered; and men were at leisure to observe the progress of the great operations for the recovery of Toulon. It
seemed, indeed, a vain attempt for the new levies of the Revolution to expel the English from a fortress so powerful in itsell, and defended by so numerous a fleet. A bombardment
was carried on from the elevations where the army stood; but
it produced little damage, and the great ships replied with almost as much effect, or at least with as much noise, from the
harbour down below. Time was wearing out the besiegers;
and Dulgommier, who conducted the operations, saw no chance
of driving the leopards, as the English were contumeliously
called, into the sea. But there was a young man of four-andtwenty, in command of a company of the artillery, who saw with
clearer eyes; he asked the general to allow him to erect a
new battery on a certain height which had not been occupied,
and promised he would plant the tricolor upon the walls in
a very short time.  This was Napoleon Buonaparte, and he
was as good as his word. Down with irresistible force, and
inevitable precision, poured balls of heaviest metal against
ship and town. No part of the basin was safe from his attack.  The vessels were shifted into all quarters of the har-'bour, but still the bullets found them out. At last the pllace
was declared untenable; the fleets were withdrawn with as




A. D. 1793.]         AND TAKEN.                    451
many of the inhabitants as could find room on board; the
stores in the dockyard were destroyed, and Lieutenant Buonaparte was highly complimented for his zeal and talent. This
was his first exploit in war, and was against the same enemies
as his last. From  Toulon in 1793 to Waterloo in 1815, he
had never come into personal contact with the English arms.
He must have had strange memories of the hills behind Toulon when, for the first time for two-and-twenty years, he again
saw St. George's standard on the heights of Mont St. Jean.
With the death of Robespierre, in July 1794, the hopes
of France began to revive. A more generous spirit pervaded
the Convention: measures for the restoration of tranquillity
were passed; banished members were recalled; offers of amnesty were made to the discontented in La Vendee and Brittany; and the infamous Carrier was condemned to death.
It even went so far as to remove the body of BIarat froml the
Pantheon, which had been dedicated to the great men of the
country; and dissolve the club of the Jacobins, where the
memory of that monster was cherished, as a saint of the new
religion of blood and license.  But the reins were relaxed
too soon.  The evil passions of the mob required the restraint
of fear, and broke forth in riot and massacre again.  The
royalists encouraged the confusion in hopes of a recall; and,
to complete the misery of the land, a very severe winter followed an insufficient harvest, and political discontent was aggravated by cold and hunger. It did little good to the starving thousands in Paris and Rouen that wonderful things
were done by their countrymen in the south and north; that
they advanced triumphant into Spain, and, after consolidating their authority in Belgium, marched into Holland, and
dictated conditions at the Hague and Amsterdam. Pichegru,
the conqueror of both the Netherlands, had performed the
unexampled feat of taking a fleet by a charge of horse; for
the Dutch ships were frozen up in the Zuyder' Zee, and the
French dragoons were ordered to assault them upon the ice,
By skilful tacking, the mounted privateers managed to keep
ut of the reach of the broadsides of the immovable ships,




45a2            PEACE WITH PRUSSIA.          [A. D. 1795
and made their advance where no guns could be brought to
bear. We may suspect that the Hollanders were not very
hearty in resistance to their brother republicans, for the whole
nation peaceably acquiesced in the changes that took place
in their name and constitution.  The United Provinces disappeared from the map, and became the Batavian Republic.
These operations had a more decided effect on the foreign
assailants of France than on her population at home. The
King of Prussia, finding little chance of increasing his dominions by the spoil of his friends, easily reconciled himself
to the murder of a neighbouring king, and the extermination
of priests and nobles. He made peace with the Convention
in April 1795-the first of established powers who recognised
the competency of the revolutionary rule. But the crowds
of Paris were more exacting. They did not ask for glory or
an increase of dominion-they asked for bread, the only unappeasable cry which a government can hear. There was no
bread to bestow, and the ferocious instincts of a famished
population broke loose. The -Tuileries was again invaded;
the Convention itself' insulted and threatened, as if' it had
been no better than a mere hereditary king; and the head
of one of'the deputies was carried into the hall of council
upon pikes, as if he had been a marquess of the old regime.
A demand was made for a new sort of government, to be
nominated by the sovereign people, and the patience of the
Convention could bear no more. When it was delivered by
the military force from the hideous multitudes who surrounded
the place of meeting, it retorted upon its assailants with
numberless executions, ancl sent to the scaffold the few of its
own body who had advocated their cause. Again the hopes
of royalists and reactionists began to rise. The poor little
Dauphin, who had been called Louis the Seventeenth, as if
in mockery of his position, by the coalesced enemies of his
country, died of poverty and cruel treatment, almost of want,
at this time; and Europe, with insulting rapidity, recognisedc
the Count of Provence, a refugee at Verona, as Louis the
Eighteenth, King of France and Navarre. A man to lead




A. D. 1)795.]   BATTLE OF QUIBERION.               453
them, a hero to fight at their head, was all the gallant exiles
said they required.  But the new king was neither manly nor
heroic. His brother, the Count of Artois, was a libertine in
his private life, and a devotee in religious faith; and if he
had any share in the blood of Henry the Fourth, carried the
white plume of Navarre, not in his helmet, but in his heart,
Both the brothers talked of drawing the swordl, and fighting
for their rights; but they were greater performers with the
knife and fork, and heard unmoved of the devotion and. death
of their followers. A few thousands of these were put on
shore by a British squadron on the projecting point of Quiberon, and called the inhabitants to gather round the white
flag of the king and their aristocratic names; but the peasantry showed no enthusiasm. Hoche, the republican general,
the son of a cutler at Versailles, was upon them like a wolf
on the fold, and the expedition of gentlemen fell a useless
sacrifice-not one of them survived; for whoever escaped the
slaughter of the battle was shot for treason after the engagement. The Convention was now drawing to a close, for it,
was to be superseded by a new form of government, consisting of two chambers, one called the Council of Five Hundred,
the other the Council of Ancients; a committee nominated
by them were to be called the Directory, and perform the duties of the governing power. In order to provide against the
inexperience of men altogether unused to public affairs, the
Convention inserted a clause that two-thirds of its present
members should belong to the new legislative body. But
Paris considered this an interference with its right of election,
and rose in mutiny.  Insurrection was openly proclaimed by
the Sections of the spoiled and famishing city. Multitudes
took arms, and appeared upon the streets.  The Convention
ordered General Barras, who had aided at the capture of
Toulon, to provide for its defence, and he undertook the duty
on condition that they gave him Lieutenant Buonaparte as
second in command.  The Convention agreed, and the young
engineer took his measures at once. He planted cannon to sweep
the long street called St. HonorK. and the two quays along




454           EFFECTS OF THE REVOLUTION.   [A. D. 1795
the Seine. WVhen the maddened multitudes appeared, he
applied the match with pitiless firmness to the guns, and continued his discharges till not a vestige of the rioters remained
He had strong reserves in the courtyard of the Tuileries;
the cross causeways were all secured, and the mob felt in a
monment it had met its mastei, and was subdueld and tracta-4
ble from that hour.  The Convention diecl with more dignity
than it had lived, and illustrated its last days with wise and
excellent laws.  It held forth offers of amity to the disaffected, and, sickened of civil butchery and the sacrifice of compatriot lives, it decreed that, when peace was restored to the
provinces of France, the penalty of death should be abolished
for ever from  the statute-book.  On the 26th of October
1795 its session ended and its functions ceased-an assemblage which showed more mingled qualities, high and low,
than any other. of which the records remain-which, having
commenced with the insensate fury of the proscriptions of
ancient Rome, ended with the wide views and beneficent
enactments of an English parliament.
Ancl now that the sea of blood begins to subsidcle, and the
natural face of the land to be seen, let us compare its appearance before and after that devastating but reparative
flood.  First, the Church was in possession of half the territory of France.  Enormous estates, including lakes and forests of the size of an English county, were the absolute property of the dignitaries of a cathedral or abbey.  These tracts
of country were not only free from ordinary taxation, but had
privileges infinitely more galling than an exemption from
money payments.  Their cultivators were not farmers in our
sense of the word, but serfs, and slavery was contagious in
many of those domains; for they had the strange quality
of making residents upon them forfeit their personal freedom.
If a man occupied a house on one of those spiritual territories for a year and a day, he became "' main mortable," or the
thrall of the Church-he belonged to the monks of a convent
c.r the canons of a cathedral; he could not leave his money
by1 will, or bestow it during his lifetime; it lapsed to his




A. D. 1790.]   FORMER CHURCH POWER.                 455
lords. Up to the year 1780 it was no unusual thing to see
an officer of' the army, his breast covered with decorations,
who was as much the property of some corporation of friars
or clergy as the cattle in their stables.  Attempts were made
from time to time to check this glaring wrong, and the crime
of holding bondsmen upon any estates whatever; but the
interests of the Seigneurs and the Priests always prevailed,
and till the very beginning of the Revolution there was territorial slavery as one of the acknowledged institutions of the
land. It will give us a better idea of the intolerable wealth
of the French clergy, to remark that the extent of their possessions was nearly double the whole size of England. And
the tendency of church lands was always to increase; for the
grasping prelates of the ages of ignorance and superstition
had introduced a great number of regulations by which their
holdings were made inalienable.  Once in the clutch of the
Church, they could return to civil or national uses no more.
A great baron forfeited his lands by treason, or died without
heirs: the monarch succeeded in both those circumstances,
and regranted the property to otlher holders on condition of
feudal service and defence of the kingdom.  But the clergy,
in their spiritual capacity, never could be guilty of treason,
and the corporations of monks and friars never could die out.
There was always a bishop or abbot, and the lands held under the crosier had no military or public duties, and merely
fed the luxury or ambition of their venerable owners.  Doles
of bread at the monastery door degraded and fed the brutalised population; but even the doles of bread were grudgingly
bestowed.  The country was thinly peopled, and it was impossible for the peasantry in outlying districts to come from a
distance even for their daily meals. They had therefore
gradually submitted to their necessities, and bestowed themselves on the Church as its goods and chattels, in exchange
for a permissive occupancy of a small portion of the soil.
The soul of a Frenchman has always expanded at the sight
of a very moderate portion of wretched land, if he could only
call it his own; and it was therefore with a thrill of raptulre




456           PERSECUTION OF THE CALAS    [A. D. 1795,
and the first ennobling glow of self-respect he had ever felt,
that the down-troclcdei church-tenant received the Revolution
which secured him  in property the little garden and field he
had cultivated as a serf. In the next place, the Church was
tyrannical and active in the exertion of its ecclesiastical power,
almost in exact proportion as it was careless and neglectful
in its territorial and spiritual duties. Twelve years before the
accession of Louis the Sixteenth, while his degraded gancdfather was offending the remaining good feeling of the country
by the depth of sensuality into which he had sunk-while the
chief clergy were contesting the palm for irreverence and debauchery with the wits and debauchees of the capital-while
the decencies of life were spurned at as a hypocrisy below the
regard of a gentleman or a lady-the Church was exercising an
iron dominion over the minds and bodies of its victims which
would have done honour to the founders of the Inquisition.
The story of the unfortunate Calas, a merchant in Toulouse, is well known.  It has been dressed up in play and
novel, but the simple facts are more appalling than any addition can make them.  He and his family were Protestant,
and were looked on with evil eye in the capital of what had
once been the country of the Protestant Albigenses.  Toulouse, as if to make up for that blot in her early history, was
the most bigoted and priest-ridden city in France.  One of
Calas's sons being too idle for trade, and legally incapacitatecl
by his religious tenets from going to the bar, was struck
with despair about his future prospects, and hanged himself
one night at the door of his father's shop.  Instead of pitying
his bereaved parents, the populace, stirred up by the shopkeepers and priests of the town, became persuaded that the
young man had determined to conform to the Catholic
Church, and that - his father and mother, his brother, a visitor who happened to be in the house, and the servant-maid,
had murdered him to prevent his recantation! We need
not dwell on the proofs of the innocence of those unhappy
people, for the mere statement of their accusation is sufficient; we will merely state that the father perished misera



A. D. 1790.]        AND LA BARRE.                  457
bly by being broken alive upon the wheel, the sisters were
immured in a convent, the brother was banished, and the
mother, an Englishwoman, who was probably considered a
more unpardonable heretic on that account, reduced: to poverty.
Four years after this, in 1766-on! y three-and-twenty
years before the Revolution-there was a young gentleman
of Abbeville, of the name and title of Chevalier de la Barre,
who had been brought up by his aunt the lady-superior of a
convent in the town.: He was now seventeen or eighteen
years old, and was in expectation, through the interest of his
relation, of getting a commission in the cavalry. His aunt
had had the misfortune to attract the admiration of a man of
the name of Belleval, an assessor of the taxes; and the nephew
had threatened the presumptuous wooer for his insolence.
The abbess had pleasant little supper-parties at the convent,
where young De la Barre and a friend of his own age, called
Etallonde, were admitted, but from which Belleval was excluded. The terrors of the Church were invoked to revenge
the co.ntempt of the nephew and the haughtiness of the aunt,
and the young men were accused of two great and unpardonable crimes. They had seen a procession of monks pass
within thirty yards of them, and had not taken off their hats;
and the wood crucifix on the bridge had been slightly marked,
as if with a cane. The clergy were aroused. The bishop
took the lead, and instituted penitential processions to the
injured crucifix, and threatened terrible things against the
perpetrators.  Belleval accused the young men. It was
proved by several witnesses that the Chevalier had spoken
disparagingly of a plaster image of St. Nicholas; that he
had sung certain songs as he passed along the street, which
were not fit for ears polite; and that he had been seen walking near the crucifix on the night when the injury must have
been inflicted. None of all these accusations was clearly
proved; but the boy was put to the torture; was declared
contumacious and disregardful of church authority; and,
finally, was condemned to be burnt alive. The sentence was




458           WANT OF A MIDDLE CLASS.    LA. D. 1)795.
carried into effect with the merciful alleviation, that he was
decapitated before he was thrown into the flames. Up to
the last year of his life-which was 1778-Voltaire, who applied his genius and wit and eloquence to remedy these
frightful ills as far as regarded the memory of the sufferers,
was pursued by the unrelenting malignity of the Church, not
so much for his opposition to its doctrines as for his exposure
of its crimes. Let us remember that, when the day of trial
came, the vast body of the clergy not only gave up the clerical profession, but trampled on the Christian faith, proving
by these acts the hypocrisy which had guided them to such
cruelties in all their previous lives, and we shall not wonder
at the excesses of hatred displayed against the monks and
abbes, however much we may regret the sufferings of the
individual men. The Revolution made a tragedy like that
of the Calas or De la Barre impossible. It threw open half
the land of the country to the occupation and ownership of
the people at large. It threw down the privileges of an effete and unmanly nobility; and perhaps when the great balance is struck between the misery it produced and the misery
it abrogated, it will be found that the momentary griefs of
the struggle from 1789 to 1795 bear no relation to the immense mass of pain and degradation and hopelessness which
had oppressed the multitudes of France for hundreds of years
before, and threatened to crush them, with rapidly increasing
weight, in the years which were to come.
If nations suffered like individuals from the stings of an
uneasy conscience, England would take to herself a great portion of the sufferings of the French people, and of the excesses of the Revolution itself. The devastations of the English wars, which lasted for a hundred years from ] 340, which
sank the peasantry into hopeless want; and the " wrongful
masterdom" exercised by the Edwards and Henrys during
all that time, have been blamed by French historians as the
cause of the abnormal growth of French society and the absence of a true middle class. The defence of the country was
thrown into the hands of the landed proprietors, who indem



A. D. 1795.]   RISE OF THE MIDDLE CLASS.            459
nified themselves with privileges of the most unpatriotic kind
when the invaders were repelled.  The shopkeeper in the
town, exposed to the ravages of an English host, or the not
less destructive defence of a French feudal army, had no security for his wealth if he had managed to attain it. He
could not invest it in land, for the " roturier," or non-noble,
was incapable of purchasing properties to which warlike duties were attached.  There was, therefore, no answering class
to that which, very soon after the Conquest, began to reap..
pear in England, the free tenant who had land of his own,
andl was as secure of his tenure as the lord under whom he
held. In France the population was, therefore, only twofold,
the highest and the lowest.  There was no " yeoman of Kent
with his yearly rent" who looked with the same honest feeling of independence and self-respect on the lord and the labourer.
But things grew still worse when education came.  The
lawyers and financiers, and the other evil growths of a high
state of civilisation, began to perceive that they had intelligence but no rights, and wealth and influence but no social
rank.  They hated the aristocracy they enviecl, and vowed its
destruction when they could not share its advantages.  We
therefore find the intellect and energy of the country ranged
against its titles and decorations.  There was growing up a
vast mass of cultivated refinement and hoarded wealth, and
municipal ambition, and desire of literary and military distinction-all the elements, in short, of a strong and healthful middle class-and there was no room for it between the
inane supremacy of the nobility and the half-savage apathy
of the serf. It was necessary to sink one and elevate the
other. If, at the furious outburst of the pent-up force; the
first were annihilated and the second endowed with too great
a power, it is not for us to find fault whom it took hundreds
of years to consolidate our freedom; and who have had the
good fortune to distribute the harshnesses and wrongdoings
of the struggle over so long a period.  The aggregate of our
s;lffcrings and crimes escapes our observation. If all the




460          FOLLIES OF THE, REVOLUTION.   [x. D. 1795,
woes, vioences, and iniquities of every kind, from the wars of
the Barons to the expulsion of the Stuarts, which it has
cost our country to assemble six hundred and fifty-eight gentlemen in council at Westminster, were compressed into four
or five years, we should have little cause to' look down scornfully or shudderingly on the atrocities of the French Revolution. There is, however, one peculiarity in which our battle
for liberty has the advantage over our neighbours; it was
unmixed, from the beginning to the end, with any element
unworthy of the great inspiring cause. There is something
august and elevating in the persistence of a nation in vindicating its inherent rights through centuries of varying fortunes, and sustaining the struggle with the solemn earnestness of men who have staked their lives. upon the issue.
The stern. men of the Great Charter were but the forerunners, with the same type of character and face, of the men of
the Grand Remonstrance and the Convention of 1688;
Hampden might have worn De Montfort's armour, and appeared a lineal successor of the summoner of the burgesses to
parliament. But in France, things of the greatest interest
were so mixed up with unworthy accompaniments, that the
vast aims of the leaders in the outbreak against corrupted authority are almost lost in the ludicrous dress-they wear. It
gives an appearance of mockery to the aspirations of those
professed lovers of freedom, to hear that they left off their
Christian names as badges of superstition and law, and took
those of old Roman and Greek patriots who had never bowed
the knee to kings.  They called themselves Cato and Phocion, and Brutus, and Aristides; and these, with the very
modern title of "citizen" before them, must have had
rather an amusing effect. Citizen Agamemnon paying his
respects to Citizeness Volumnia gives us no great idea of the
truthfulness of his desire for sensible and useful changes.
They altered also, the names of the months, and dated, not
from the birth of Christ, but from the origin of French freedom.  They banished poor old January and his eleven successors, and installed a new family in their place.  The as



A. D. 1795.]       THE DIRECTORY.                  461
semblage of the Convention had happened on the autumnal
equinox; they commenced with that date, and, calling the
period up to the 21st October " Vend6miaire," went through
the winter months as Brumaire and Frimnaire: these may be
cranslated, Vintagy, Chilly, Frosty. Then came "Snowy,"
"Showery," " Windy," for January, February, and 3March.
Spring was represented by Buddy, Flowery, Meadowy; and
Autumn by Harvesty, Iot, and Fruity.  This fantastic nomenclature ofthe seasons lasted from the 21st September 1792
to the 11th Nivose of the year Thirteen, which had to be
translated in ordinary books into the 1st of January 1806.
This mingled tale of great national convulsions and pitiless executions-of a total upheaving of new elements, and
a total displacement of the old, with heroism, patriotism, and
the loftiest aspirations combined with folly and charlatanism
of the wildest kind-is now coming to an end. The separated fragments of a grand old building are now lying scattered and unconnected amid the dust and confusion its fall
occasioned, but the master-architect is at hand who will
apply them to their proper use, and build them up again into
a new fabric, more symmetrical and according to rule than
the old, but not more calculated to last. Napoleon Buonaparte is about to lay his hand on the Revolution, and guide it
into the path he desires. The history of France condenses
itself for the next twenty years into the life of one man, and
the same thing may almost be said of the history of the whole
of Europe.
TIE DIRECTORY, A. D. 1795, TO THE FIRST CONSULSHIP, A. D.
1799.
The Directory consisted of five members, nominated by the
Council of Five Hundred. Of these Barras and Carnot are
the only names worthy of being recalled; Barras as the first
patron and friend of Napoleon, and Carnot as the: greatest
military administrator the Revolution produced. The wonders of Louvois, in the early days of Louis the Fourteenth,
were transcended by this fanatical regicide. He had a bank



462                 NEW GENERALS.            [x. D. 179.5.
rupt exchequer and a disturbed country to deal with, and all
the powers of Europe to resist. Yet the indomitable energy
of his will, and the zeal of his followers, supplied the want
of money and order, and enabled him to send armies to the
field as perfect in equipment as if the taxes were collected in
a time of prosperity and peace. Taxes, indeed, had nearly
ceased, for the industry and agriculture of the land were at
the lowest ebb; but there remained to the financier, who had
faith in the restoration of his country, the enormous mass of
property of which the priests and nobles had been deprived,
as security for any loan he could manage to contract.  Twothirds of France were a substantial pledge for the money required to defend the soil. Promissory notes on this vast
deposit were issued at almost a nominal value, yet, from the
immensity of the sums they represented, yielding a considerable amount in present coin or negotiable paper.  The man
who had lent on the assurance of those confiscated demesnes,
was doubly bound to resist a restoration of their old proprietors and an invasion of foreign enemies. A loan, therefore, in
the hands of Carnot, was both a present aid and a future
support; and though there was loud grumbling, and a great
deal of suffering, and much political discontent, the great
minister knew that a succession of victories would reconcile
his countrymen to everything-would make the impoverished
shopkeeper and the rebellious Vendean equally forgetful of
their own grievances in the glory of their beautiful France.
Victory was therefore as indispensable to the Directory as
money; and unlimited authority was given to Carnot. He
used it with unsparing hand, and was seconded in all his
labours by a series of generals who excelled the heroes and
soldiers of the wars of the Grand Monarque, as if to prove
that the enthusiasm of revolution had a greater effec't than
the excitement of loyalty. Princely Condes, and Turennes,
and Luxemburgs were to be transcended by the plebeians
whom the new order of things had thrown up to the surface.
Carnot, however, was almost as fortunate in his enemies as in
his agents.  The Count of Artois (Charles the Tenth) at last




A. D. 1796.]     SKILL Or NAPOLEON.                463
summoned energy to leave his safe retreat in England, and
professed to lead an expedition into La Vendcle. A British
fleet again bore a body of gallant emigrants to their native soil,
and the loyal and priest-loving peasantry gathered to receive
them. But the Count of Artois saw beyond the enthusiastic
bands of armed peasants, and clergy brandishing the cross,
the close-ranked battalions which Carnot was sending into the
field. After an inglorious delay on the mainland, or rather
on the Isle Dieu, as near to the mainland as his timorous disposition would carry him, he returned to his contemptible
safety, and left his followers to their fate.  More indignant
at the desertion of their chief than quelled by his absence, the
enthusiasts rushed upon their doom. The chiefs of the insurrection had no longer a rallying-point, or a supreme authority
to keep them united, and by separation and disunion their
strength was broken.  Stofflet, one of their leaders, was taken
and shot at Angers; and Charette, another, underwent the
same sentence at Nantes.  The Count of Artois was again
happy with his priests and mistresses; the Count of Provence
was inventing new dishes for dinner, and publishing the vengeance he would take on the disobedient when he returned to
his country; and La Vendee submitted.  The tricolor was
hoisted with universal acquiescence on the walls of Rochelle 
and France, as stated in the formal declaration of her rights,
was a " Republic, one and indivisible."
Of the other generals of this one and indivisible republic,
it is necessary to follow the separate steps, and observe the
peculiarities of each battle and march. Few of them had.
succeeded, in previous campaigns, in forcing their enemies into
more than one engagement, and both parties rested on the
fame acquired by the solitary achievement; but with the
young Buonaparte, who was now appointed General-in-chief
of the Army of Italy, it is impossible to pursue this method.
His blows were so rapid and so numerous, that it would require a large space to describe them in the order in which
they occurred; marches-which in other commanders are
generally movements from one secured ground to another, and




464                  HIS TACTICS.            [A.. 1D. 796.
directed entirely by the exigencies of their own troops-were
positive acts of war under this new chief. A movement of
his forces, which to ordinary spectators appeared a mere
change of place, was felt by the enemy at a hundred miles
distance to be a defeat.  There never had appeared so theoretically accomplished a soldier since the days of Marlborough
and Eugene. In those great leaders science regulated the
proceedings of a campaign, and attained its object if no variation was required from the scheme originally laid down. And
certainly it is an amazing display of mental power to provide
for the thousand contingencies of a lengthened struggle, and
foresee the combinations necessary to meet the possible arrangements of the enemy. Another general had risen since
their time in the person of Frederick of Prussia, who left
more room for divergence from an original plan, and relied on
disconcerting his opponents by sudden changes of disposition,
which the wonderful discipline of his armies enabled him to
make. lHe overthrew the solemn traditions of the Austrians
by a rapidity of movement, of which their slow and solid battalions had no conception; and made a great portion of his
art of war to consist in surprise. As profoundly scientific as
Marlborough or Eugene, and a hundred-fold more rapid in
combination than Frederick, the new leader of the French
army united the merits of all the three. He calculated time
and distance with more than the accuracy of the Englishman
or Savoyard, and flung his forces with more unexpected vigour
on an unprotected position than the Prussian. His rule in a
campaign on land was the same as our own Nelson's at sea —
" the greatest force on the weakest point "-so that it did not
matter whether those great chiefs of men had on the whole
the largest fleet or army; it was: sufficient for them if they
could throw the numerical superiority on any one point.
Nelson broke the line with his whole fleet, and enclosed half
the opposite vessels in a double fire; Napoleon crushed the
enemy's separated armies with an overwhelming force, and,
before they could effect a reunion, destroyed the portion he
had contrived to outnumber as well as take unprepared. We




A. D. 1796.]     CAMPAIGN OF ITALY.                465
must trace this marvellous genius in his military achievements by campaigns, and not by separate engagements.
The campaign of 1796 began under very depressing circumstances. Pichegru, who was in command upon the Rhine,
was either a traitor or incompetent; he was bought over by
the Prince of Conde, who headed some of the emigrants in
that quarter, or was out-generalled, and Austrians and Piedmontese again threatened an incursion on the soil of France.
Moreau, a man of unbounded reputation at that time, ancl
who afterwards was considered by the enemies of Napoleon
the only leader capable of holding the field against him, was
ordered to advance into the States of Germany; and Buonaparte at the same time joined the army he was appointed to
command in the south of France.  Carnot had not yet had
time to attend to the commissariat; the clothing was dcleficient, the troops in arrear of pay, and, nothing in perfect order
but the artillery and ammunition, and the hearts and spirits
of the men. Over the mountains marched thirty thousand,
soldiers in the apparently disorganisel, starved, and shoeless,
condition which characterises a defeated force. But theywere all young and hopeful; their general was six-and-twenty
years of age.
Italy was the traditionary land of French glory. Its,
fields were fertile, and its palaces and churches filled with
uncountable wealth. In four days they won four victories,,
and forced the Piedmontese king to furnish food and clothing
to his victors, on condition of being left on his throne. The.
Directory gave positive orders to leave no monarch in power;.
and perhaps Buonaparte considered he was obeying their:
command when he stripped the rulers he came into contact
with, of all their authority, and only left them their royal,
serene, or imperial titles to facilitate the requisitions he made.
On the 12th of April he had begun his march; in twentyfive days he had silenced Sardinia, laid enormous contributions on the Dukes of Modena and Parma-of money to
please Carnot, and of pictures and statues to delight the'
Parisians-and passed the Po. On the 9th of Mlay he forced,
30




466              DEFEAT OF AUSTRIA.          [A. D. 1796
the bridge of Lodi across the Adda, seized Milan on the 15th,
and gave his men a treat in the village of Pavia on the 23d.
While he was fighting, raising money, laying in stores, sending eloquent bulletins to the Directory, and receiving humble
messages from princes and potentates, the scarecrows of our
former acquaintance had become the most glorious army in
the world. Living like the most ferocious of brigands, spreading disaffection to settled governments wherever they went
-offending the prejudices of birth by their boisterous contempt of rank-offending the feelings of the middle class by
their lawlessness and license-they redeemed all by an obedience to orders in the field, a courage in actual battle, and
an endurance of fatigue such as has not been seen since the
Tenth Legion of Caesar had conquered their predecessors in
Gaul. Like the Tenth Legion of Caesar, too, they derived all
their high characteristics from a glowing admiration of their
leader, which rose in those enthusiastic youths into idolatry.
To live for him, to fight for him, to die for him, was the highest hope of veteran and conscript; and if service had been
counted by victories and not by years, the deeds of this first
campaign would have given the name of veteran to the youngest soldier of the force. Twelve battles; besides numerous
small engagements, laid all upper Italy at their feet, and at
the beginning of September it was supposed, according to the
usual routine of warfare, that active hostilities were at an end.
Austria, however, showed astonishing vigour: she poured
freshl thousands into her Lombard provinces, and succeeded in
hemming in the French within the walls of Verona.  But
Buonaparte interrupted for a moment the peaceable labours
in which he had been engaged, of pillaging the trembling sovereigns of the duchies and marquisates which dotted the face,of the land and converting the principalities of the recusants
into republics after the model of the French; and, leaving
the Cispadane constitution unfinished, achieved a secret
march from the besieged town. The first news of his evasion
was conveyed to the capitals of Europe-which had begun to
rejoice in the approaching annihilation of the invaders-by




A. D. 196-97.]  PEACE OF CAMPO FORMIO.             467
the reports which immediately reached them of the tremendous battles of Arcola and Rivoli.  The first was so obstinately contested that it lasted four days; the second consisted
of three separate victories won over the three divisions into
which scientific strategy and a very old man had divided the
Austrian army, so that each was thoroughly dissolved before
the other came to its support; and finding that obstinacy,
and science, and fortified positions, and superior numbers
made no difference, and that winter was just as congenial to
those sons of the south as summer, the Austrian party began
to despair; the Pope long ago had sent in his submission;
the populace rejoiced in seeing their oppressors humbled by
their fellow-peasants,-and  Ian itua, the chief stronghold of
the Imperialists, surrendered. Italy was a conquered land, and
the glories of Francis the First were renewed without a Pavia,
and of the earlier Anjous without an insurrection of Naples.
On the 17th October 1797, Napoleon Buonaparte granted the
Emperor of Austria the peace which both countries required,
though only one demanded it.  He secured to his country the
long-coveted limits of the Ocean, the Alps, the Pyrenees, and
the Rhine. Belgium was amalgamated with it, and all the
irmitative constitutions, wherever they were established, were
guaranteed by the triumphant Republic.
When the conqueror in so many battles, the author of so
many magnificent descriptions, the bestower of so honourable
a peace, made his appearance in Paris, the enthusiasm of the
public knew no bounds: wherever he appeared, the noblefeatured, quiet-mannered little Corsican was hailed as a hero
and benefactor; but he laid aside his military dress, attended
no meetings which he could possibly avoid, and when his appearance was indispensable, wore only the simple uniform of a
member of the Institute.  He knew that the guillotine-axe
was still sharp, and was conscious that the members of the
Directory were hostile.  Carnot and another of his personal
supporters had been displaced; factions had arisen also in the
Council of Five Hundred and of' the Ancients.  The old
state of affairs had still its adherents.  The emigrants, avail



468             RETURN OF THE PRIESTS.         [A. D. 1797
ing themselves of a lull in the popular feeling, had returned
in great numbers to France. The excessive depreciation of
the paper money in which government obligations were paid,
enabled the old proprietors, in many instances, to recover a
portion of their patrimonial estates at a very small sum.
They were aided in this, in some instances, by the good feeling of the local authorities, who winked at their proceedings;
and if' the fortunate recoverers of their position had had the
sense to remain quiet, they might have excited a change of
sentiment in their favour, which was impossible while they
had continued in open hostility to their country. The priests
also came back in. whole battalions, and awoke the fanaticism
which only fear had laid for a short time to sleep. They
were received in country houses, and re-established in their
offices of confessors and directors; a hierarchy was secretly
instituted on the model of the old, and, in fact, there was an
organised body, bound together by religious and political beliefs, busily at work for the overthrow of all that had been done
for the last ten years. Nor was there the same unanimity as
before in the army itself. The coarse and furious adventurers
of Italy were jealous, in the midst of all their laurels, of the
praises lavished upon the Army of the Rhine. The refinement
of these comparatively civilised troops made thema hateful to
the scum and offscouring of the cities of the south which had
humbled Mantua and Rome. When detachments from the
forces of Bernadotte and Moreau joined them in Lombardy,
they bhad perceived with disgust that the new-comers had the
audacity to call their officers " monsieur," or " sir," instead
of " citizen;" and this was treason to the Republic and the
equality to which all men are entitled. The soldiers sacrificed more lives in duels on this momentous subject than
would have filledl the list of casualties in a pitched battle;
and as the discussions went on, no obscure intimations were
given that the Army of Italy was ready to cross the Alps, and
massacre all - persons whethether rich or poor, whom they were
pleased to call the aristocrats of Paris.
A fresh ebullition of violence among the lower orders in.~ IDL~UIIIL    ~~vrrv   uvs




A. D. 1798.]            EGYPT.                     469
the city itself, was feared by the timid and the comparatively
wealthy. Even at this time voices were heard in favour of a
military despotism to preserve society from  dissolution a
second time. Buonaparte listened to these voices with greedy
ears, but gave no answer. He lived in complete retirement
with his wife Josephine, whose first husband, General Beauharnais, had perished in the Revolution.  Still young and
captivating, she employed herself in the education of her two
children, Eugene and Hortense. Josephine had been very
useful to her husband in securing him friends and supporters;
for her manners were irresistible, and her love to the young
conqueror unbounded. But Buonaparte and Josephine, and
all their friends, waited in silence and patience till the proper
time for his reappearance on the stage.  Conscious that, amid
the struggles of party, in which he took no share, his name
might grow dim-conscious also that the enmity of the Directory would be softened by his absence from the scene of
these disreputable quarrels-he determined to apply for employment in a distant quarter.  The Directory, with presumptuous pride, desired him to make a descent upon England,
and convert it into the British Republic. It was the spring
of 1798; Nelson was on the waters with a fleet, and every
square mile of the British Channel was watched by sloops
and frigates. Portsmouth was filled with ships, and Buonaparte knew that, unless he had two months' undisputed command of the sea, his expedition to England would end in
surrender and imprisonment.
But he saw a far-off land, where a glory was to be won
which would gain a new charm in the eyes of his countrymen,
by the romance and mystery which hung upon the scene.
Egypt, the land of the Pharaohs and Ptolemies, would be a
noble field for new triumphs.  Its acquisition would also
weaken England, by enabling him to intercept her Eastern
trade, and, in the dreams of the Corsican, the desert became
but a starting-point for the overthrow of Persia and the conquest of Hindostan.  The Nile and the Ganges drew him
towards them with the force of fascination, and on the 19th




470              BATTLE OF THE NILE.          [A. D. 1798.
of lMay he sailed from  Toulon, escaped by his usual good
fortune from  the English cruisers, took Malta froml the
Knights of St. John after five days' delay, and effected his
landing with forty thousand men near Alexandria.  The
battle of the Pyramids and capture of Cairo showed the same
irresistible skill and courage as the great fights of Italy; but
they were rendered useless by a catastrophe which came upon
the fleet. The admiral who had guarded the expedition to
Egypt had taken up his position in the bay of Aboukir, and
had made every preparation against an assault by Nelson,
who was known to be in search of him in all parts of the
Mediterranean.  His vessels were drawn up so near the coast'
that no enemy could get between them  and the land, and
they woulcl therefore have the advantage of presenting an
unvarying and raking broadside to the advancing foe; they
were, in fact, converted into stationary batteries, and, by
concentrating their fire, could defeat any separate attack.
But Nelson, seing they were riding at anchor, said to his
second in command, " Wherever the French can swing, there
is room for us to pass," and ordered his whole line, one by
one, to take up a place on the landward side of the anchored
fleet.  Seventeen hours of unceasing cannonade alarmed the
inhabitants for miles inland; Arabs and Egyptians crowded!the commanding stations, and, when the cloud clearedl up
they saw the power of France utterly annihilated- fragmenats
of ships floating about the bay, and, fiar off, the sails of two
or three which had contrived in the heat of the engagement
to slip their cables and escape.  The MIediterranean was an
English lake from henceforth; the tricolor was banished froml
its whole extent, from Alexandria to Gibraltar, and the forty
thousand French soldiers, led by the first generals of the
time, were prisoners in a foreign land.
Cut off from European help, perhaps the conqueror of
Italy saw the commencement of his Oriental career. The
plains of the Indus-the capital of Delhi —the crown of the
great Empire of Hindostan —and the spoils of Calcutta —
were all in the excited anticipations of the young man of




A. D. 1799.]             JAFFA.                      471
twenty-nine, intoxicated with conscious power and the fumes
of success.  He accommodated himself to Eastern habits at
once, and rode a dromedary across the desert with the simplicity of an Arab sheik.  Forming his army of thirty thousand men into a caravan, and holding high discourse with
learned muftis and other interpreters of the Koran-professing
great respect for Mahomet, and giving hopes of a sincere conversion to Islam-he arrived in Syria.  There he took the
town of Gaza, and besieged St. Jean d'Acre, anciently called
Ptolemais.  At the foot of Mlount Tabor he defeated the
Turks with enormous slaughter, and spoke with more confidence than before of a march on Constantinople and the
throne of the Great Mogul.  But a check was received in
the siege of Acre which awoke him to the realities of his position.  Sir Sidney Smith, an English commodore, landed
with a few blue-jackets and marines, and defended the beleaguered town.  The French retired, discomfited and wearied out, on the 20th of MIay, and, after a toilsome and disastrous march to their old quarters in Egypt, gained the last
glory of their arms in the battle of Aboukir.  This victory
was doubly valuable, as it restored to the French annals a
name which Nelson had banished from the lips of Frenchmen-they could now speak of Aboukir with as much triumph
as the English.  This was on the 25th of July, and the Turks
were utterly destroyed as a disciplined force.
Before leaving the Egyptian campaign, it will be necessary to mention the two actions which have thrown the darkest
shade on the reputation of Buonaparte —the massacre of the
Turks at Jaffa, and the murder of his own men.  The fate of
a town taken by assault is too well known to attract any particular consideration, if it is unaccompanied by circumstances
of unusual barbarity.  The defeated defenders and the innocent townspeople suffer the utmost violence which the rage
of an irritated soldiery can inflict. While the conflict lasts,
or before discipline can be re-established, no life is safe; but
after the first burst of wrong the perpetration of murder or
robbery becomes a crime. At Jaffa it was the policy of Buo



472            POISONING OF THE SICK.        [A. D. 1799
naparte to strike with terror; and he gave up to indiscriminate destruction every inhabitant of the devoted town. Five
hundred Turkish prisoners were killed in cold blood, and the
peaceful citizens were ruthlessly slain. The slaughter lasted
for two whole days, and the general-in-chief ordered it to
continue. This sanguinary act brought its legitimate punishment. The corpses of men, women and children, encuml
bered the streets, and their reeking blood ascended to heaven,
and came down upon their murderers in the shape of pestilence. The French army was stricken down; and though the
general endeared himself more than ever to his men by visiting the hospital wards, and touching the hideous swellings
which characterise the disease, with his hands, nothing would.
reanimate their courage. The remembrance of their suffering
comrades in the lazar-house at Jaffa paralysed the assailants
of Acre; and when the siege was raised and the French were
forced to evacuate Syria and find refuge in Egypt, those
plague-struck soldiers embarrassed the commander more than
all the rest.  Some he sent by sea to Damietta, others to
Gaza by land. But with the remainder, seventy or eighty,
lying helplessly on their beds, expecting to die, incapable of
being moved, with no sufficient force to leave for their protection, what was to be done?  He ordered the doctors to
prepare a soporific draught which would easily end their
pains, and though one of the physicians refused the office,
some others obeyed. The patients drank the medicine, and
never woke again. Now, these were two dreadful crimes
against humanity and Christian feeling; but the defenders of
Napoleon say that war is not a Christian or humane operation at all, and that there are cases in which a massacre like
that of the Turks at Jaffa may be really a work of necessity,
and a murder like that of his own countrymen an act of mercy.
The prisoners, they say, were too numerous to be guarded,
as the detachments necessary for this purpose would have exposed the whole army to great risk. If, on the other hand.
they were dismissed, they were certain to join the enemy and
increase his already great numerical superiority. They were,




A. D. 1799.]   COALITION AGAINST FRANCE.             473
therefore, slain, not cruelly or unnecessarily, but that they
might not weaken Napoleon nor strengthen Djezzar Pasha.
The poisoning of his countrymen is placed on different
ground. The infuriated enemy, savage and relentless, were
in full advance.  It was out of his power to retain the town.
The sick would be slain, not with sword or gun, but with
tortures of the most intolerable kind.  Their lives were already despaired of; was their death to be agonised and dreadful? A slight overdose of opium, and they were beyond the
reach of Turkish cruelty. If he was himself in their place,
could there be a doubt of the choice he would make between
a peaceful slumber and a tortured end?  These were the defences urged by his friends, and by himself in his conversations at St. Helena.  We cannot judge of military necessities; but ere we let the curtain fall upon these frightful
departures from the code of ordinary morals, let us give the
unhappy director of them the benefit of the fact, that they
are the principal instances of personal cruelty adducecl
against him; and that with regard to the massacre, it raised
him in the estimation of the Egyptians, and with regard to
the poisoning, it did not lower him in the affection of his
men.
In the mean time strange events occurred at Paris, of
which the watchful Josephine sent reports as often as possible
to her husband. The guiding hand was absent from the
army, and the glories of the Italian campaign were followed
by disasters, when the war broke out again in 1798.  The first
glow of patriotic ardour was past, and many thousands of the
youth of France were buried in the lands they had subdued.
Piedmont, Italy, Flanders, French soil itself, were covered
with their graves, and the ranks of the regiments were scantily supplied. The system of forcible conscription was introduced, and discontented all classes of the community.  The
Council of Five Hundred, the Council of Ancients, and the
Directory, were trembling for their re-election, and occupied
a large part of the military force in maintaining order at
home.  On the frontier, affairs were worse and worse.  The




474                 ABBE SIEYES.             rA. D. 1799.
Archduke Charles-the only man of talent the royal family
of Austria has produced-defeated Jourdan in Germany: the
savage and inspired Suwarrow at the head of an army of Russians, as wild and desperate as himself, overthrew Scherer,
the republican general, in Italy, and continued his advance in
spite of the science of 3Moreau. Macdonald flew to the rescue
from Naples; but the united skill of the French leaders failed
before the brutal immobility of Muscovite serfs. A great
defeat upon the Trebbia made France tremble for her southern boundaries; Suwarrow continned his march; Sardinia
threw off her hated subjection to the tricolor; the Russians
entered 3IMilan and Turin; and crowds in coffee-rooms and in
barrack-yards, and in the streets of all the cities of the Republic, talked of nothing but the little olive-complexioned
man who had conquered Italy in two months. Popular discontent vented itself on the Directory: the members were
terrified, and resigned or changed their places, and no one
was left of its original body except Barras, the patron and
friend of Buonaparte.  There was a man of the name of
Abbe Sieyes, who is chiefly remarkable for the ease with
which he manufactured a constitution, and imposed it on his
country. In about a week he could produce a code of laws
more complete than the regulations of Lycurgus and Solon,
and more minute than the British constitution, which, without being written down, has taken a thousand years to grow
into its present state.  He began, for the twentieth time,
preparing a change.  But people were tired of changes; they
longed for something to keep them steady and unmoved;
some strong hand to hold the sceptre, even if its weight was
sometimes oppressive to themselves; and again all the politicians and country farmers, and men of peace, joined with
the soldiers and citizens in talking of the little dark man who
maintained such perfect discipline, and did such marvellous
works.  Enemies were gathering thick and fast. A mixed
expedition of Russians and English landed in Holland.  Suwarrow gained another victory at Novi; and one momentary
glimmer of success, gained by Massena at Zurich) did not




A. D. 1799.]   RETURN OF BUONAPARTE.               475
restore the public confidence.  There were Austrians, Russians, English, Piednmontese, menacing the soil; and now the
murmurs grew louder and louder against the Directory for
having banished, out of hatred and jealousy, the only soldier
of France who was equal to the occasion. What was he
doing on the banks of the Nile, or under the shadow of the
Pyramicds, when  the Alps were alive with enemies, and
Belgium was bristling with bayonets from the Neva and the
Thames?  The soldier of France came. HIe had left the
army to the care of IKleber, a great and just commander;
and had ventured in a small frigate down the whole length
of the Mediterranean. It is a strange incident of the voyage
that stress of weather kept him in the harbour of Ajaccio, his
native place, for nearly a week; when he again took the sea
a fog concealed him from the English cruisers. He landed
at Frejus, posted to Paris without a moment's delay, and surprisedl Josephine with his appearance in the small house
where he had left her.
All things were prepared for a decisive movement. Everybody knew it was coming, but nobody knew what it was to
be.  Sieyes got ready a constitution.  Barras yielded to Buonaparte's advice in everything; the army was in his favour,
and the peaceably inclined invoked him as their deliverer.
The Council of Five Hundred and the Council of Ancients were
summoned to assemble at St. Cloud?n the 10th of November.
On that dclay General Buonaparte, who had been appointed to
the command of all the troops, entered the Chamber of the Ancients, and protested against the constitution under which they
were formed. Leaving the senators overwhelmed with surprise, he proceeded to the Council of Five Hundred. There
he was more noisily received. The benches were occupied
by many who had been active in the Convention and the
Committee of Public Safety.  Buonaparte looked round at
the furious visages of the majority, whom his brother Lucien,
the president, found it impossible to restrain.  He hesitated,
he grew pale, and would have lost the opportunity he desired,
if his grenadiers had not rushed into the hall, and protected




476        ANNOUNCES HIS ELEVATION.           [A. D. 1799.
him from the personal violence of the members. For a moment the resolution of the new Cromwell had given way, but
it was only for a moment. Next minute a file of soldiers entered the assembly. Bayonets fixed, and drums beating, they
marched up the whole length of the apartment. The members saved themselves by the windows at the upper end, and
the Hall of Legislature was filled with armed men. The constitution of the year Three was at an end, but Sieyes was
ready with half-a-dozen, and a new one was promulgated on
the 24th of the same month.  By this, three Consuls were
appointed for ten years. The First Consul was to have the
patronage of all the offices of administration, of the army ancl
navy, and of the magistracy; the promulgation of laws, and
the declaration of peace and war. This First Consul, it is
useless to say, was Napoleon Buonaparte; and it is equally
useless to say, that his two colleagues, Cambaceres and Lebrun,
were merely additional clerks to register his decisions.  The
French rejoiced still in the name of republicans, though they
had a ruler who possessed all the authority of the crown. They
likewise thought they were constitutionally governed by the
fiction of a Senate and a Legislative Body, and a Tribunate,
though the same grenadiers were still in arms who had dissolved the Councils of Five Hundred and of the Ancients. The
First Consul took rank with kings, and wrote letters announcing his accession to all the crowned heads of Europe.
But he was as yet too plebeian a person to be admitted
to such distinguished correspondence, and he was obliged
to wait patiently for a time when the descendants of the
Hapsburg Cesars, and the Hohenzollerns, and the Romanoffs,
watched for a note from his hand as if it were a condescension from a superior being.




CHAPTER XIX.
THE FIRST CONSULSHIP, A.D. 1799, TO THE EMPIRE, A.D. 1S04.
THE four months of winter, from January to May, 1800, were
sufficient to prove that France had changed her constitution
more completely in reality than in name. We may have observed in the earlier period of this history, that when an ambitious
king wanted to extend his authority, his first care was to buy
over the assistance of the clergy by sacrificing the pragmatic, by
which the liberties of the Gallican Church were secured.
The Pope was not worth the buying at the end of the eighteenth
century; and Buonaparte perceived that the liberties of the
country were no longer suppressible through the priesthood,
but were confided to the championship of the press. Henceforth the first assault on the freedom of the nation is always
made through a censorship on the newspapers. It was with
this step that the First Consul inaugurated his reign. He
placed all publications under the severest restrictions, and
shut up the debating clubs and political assemblies throughout the Republic. The wealth of the country was lying unemployed for want of a medium for its diffusion; he established the Bank of France, guaranteed by the State.  He increasecl the revenues by fresh burdens upon realised property,
and aided local trade by relaxing some of its restrictions. IHe
strengthened the power of his government by concentrating
it in fewer hands; and replaced the municipal and county
commissioners by the appointment of prefects responsible only




478                SOCIETY IN PARIS.           [A. D. 1799,
to himself.  The central bureau in Paris contained all the
information poured in from the provinces and from all the
powers of the State. Of this central bureau he was the sole
guide. A system of police, governed by certain rules and
elevated into a department, was substituted for the uncertain
methods of former rulers who depended on the reports of the
local authorities. There was nothing going on in any town
or district, from Strasburg to Brest, from Calais to Bayonne,
that was not accurately known.
He founded also the Military College of St. Cyr, which
should furnish scientific soldiers to the nation; and schools
of primary instruction in all directions, to give her, if possible,
a peaceable and educated population.  He devoted himself,
as the chief of all his labours, to the consolidation of the
statutes and the simplication of the law, a work which, under
the name of the Code Napoleon, has more endeared him to
the French people than all the victories which fed their military pride. Paris became a place of settled ideas; and the
show and ostentation which are signs of assured property began
to be perceived. People were still simple ",citizens; " but
carriages began to roll about the streets; the official robes of
senators and legislators were of the gaudiest kind; the genius
of Parisian milliners invented the most becoming and fanciful costumes. A lady in a richer dress than had adorned the
person of a duchess could not retain the pristine simplicity
of mind and manners in which the Republic professed to delight.  The wives of the ministers of state remembered the
noble festivities at which they had enviously wondered, in the
gay days of Marie Antoinette and the beautiful ]Miadame de
Lamballe.  There were ladies as fascinating as Marie Antoinette, and as beautiful as Mladame de Lanmballe, who did the
honours of the reception-room of the First Consul, and only
required a change of name to convert it into a court. Josephine was the most expensive dresser, and tasteful leader of
the fashions, among all the belles and ornaments of the new
regime. Buonaparte's sisters also were celebrated for talent
and beauty. The young fellow-soldiers of the master glittered




A. D. 1799.]     WELL-KNOWN NAMES.                 479
in brilliant uniforms, and made the assemblages as bright
with plume and epaulet as, and more interesting with heroic
names than, the Tuileries balls of the royal time. Murat,
the handsomest man and finest swordsman in France; Lannes,
the favourite of his general; Desaix, who had followed his
leader's example, and left the worn-out Eygpt for the conquest of Europe,-and fifty others, gave animation to the social life of Paris.  The populace did not grudge those enjoyments to the soldiers who had earned a right to them by courage and intelligence, especially as they knew that the campaign might possibly elevate the sentinel at the door into a
guest within the chamber; and nothing was wanted to confirm this happy state of circumstances but ain honourable
peace. Pearce accordingly was the object of the First Consul's
public endeavours; yet it may be doubted whether the failure
of his negotiation with the German Emperor, and our stubborn and firm-hearted George the Third, was not rather a
pleasure than a disappointment.  Austria rejected all his advances, and the royalty of England would not deign him a,
reply. We still acknowledged Louis the Eighteenth as the
only legitimate authority in France, and General Buonaparte
was manifestly a usurper. The usurper, however, felt every
inch a king when he put on his cocked hat and plain grey
riding-coat, and mounted his Arab horse: ball-rooms were
emptied; and Lannes, and Murat, and Desaix, rode by his
side.
The old rapidity of march and conquest was renewed, as
if the enchanter had found his wand again. Leaving Paris
on the 5th of May, 1800, Buonaparte scaled the Alps in a
quarter where the feat was thought impossible, on the 16th;
on the'20th the plains of Italy lay like a picture beneath the
eyes of the soldiers, who were astonished no less than the
Austrians at what they had done; and on the 1st of June
they made a triumphant entry into Milan, whel'e the streets
were spanned by arches, ladies waved fans and handkerchiefs,
and the populace hailed them as their deliverers.  But the
enemy were gathering round the invaders. Outnumbering




480               INFERNAL MACHINE.          [A. D. 1800.
them-two or three to one-the Austrian generals chose the
great level of Marengo, near the fortress of Alessandria, as
the field of battle, and assaulted the French columns as they
approached the river Bormida. The French columns were
not in the habit of being attacked with impunity, and the
Austrians were courageously received. Thousands after thousands, however, poured on; their superiority of numbers began
to tell. Not all the eloquence and skill of the First Consul
could keep his men together under the charges of innumerable
horse and foot; and four times the line was broken, and a
retreat begun. On the last occasion, when Buonaparte in
vain had set the example of the most desperate courage,
Desaix, at the head of the last reserve, crossed the plain at a
rapid rate, rushed into the disordered masses of the enemy,
and forced them into irremediable rout. He scarcely lived
long enough to know the success of his movement, for a bullet
hit him in the moment of victory; and Buonaparte, without
a rival to his fame, was left to the full enjoyment of all the
results of this greatest of his early battles-the battle of
Marengo. This was on the 14th of June, five wee'ks after he
left Paris, and he made his public re-entrance into that enraptured city on the 1st of July.  Austria was humbled
as in the former Italian struggles.  Genoa and Lombardy
threw off her yoke, and the Ligurian and Cisalpine republics
were the result of a two months' campaign. Europe looked
aghast at the change produced by the presence of one manthat one man was felt both by countryman and foreigner to
be the sole obstacle to the overthrow of French power, and
the restoration of the old line.
Nothing could persuade either friend or foe that the action
with which this momentous year came to a close was not the
result of these beliefs. As the First Consul was going to the
opera, onIthe 23d of December, a machine was exploded on his
way, which destroyed houses and other buildings on both
sides of the street, but missed the object of its attack by a
very few paces. The carriage went on uninjured; but the
enthusiasm of the nation knew no bounds. If the emigrants




A. D. 1801.]   RESTORATION OF THE CHURCH.          481
planned the attempt for the purpose of procuring their return, they shut the doors on themselves -more rigorously than
before; if the foreign potentates encouraged the design, to
weaken and divide the people, they united the whole nation,
royalist and republican, in the most unlimited admiration of
the first of soldiers, whos6 existence was now seen to be its
surest defence against invasion from without and anarchy
within.  The victory of lHohenlinden, which was won by Moreau on the 3d of the same month, lost half its brilliancy in
the agitation caused by the First Consul's escape: but its
effects were felt at Vienna almost as much as those of Montebello and Marengo. Austria signed a treaty of peace at
Luneville in FlFebruary, 1801. In this she ceded Belgium
and the left bank of the Rhine to France; and acknowledged
the four republics which had been carved out of her dominions or created against her will-the Batavian, Helvetic,
Cisalpine, and Ligurian.  Bavaria and Portugal lost no time
in following the example of Austria; and by the autumn of
the same year, the Corsican engineer was acknowledged one of
the governing powers of Europe, and received the consummation of his wishes, and the ratification of his rank, by the recognition of the Pope and the blessing of the Church.
The Christian worship was:re-established; and with a
cry of joy, as when sailors are delivered from a shipwreck and
touch the land again, the people hailed the restoration of the
services to which they had been accustomed in their youth.
They felt on surer grouncl when they entered the sacred aisles
that connected them so solemnly with the past; and Buonaparte, whose name might have taken many years to reach the
isolated and illiterate peasantry in many parts of the country,
was now brought home to them every day, for he was prayed.
for at morning and evening service. The~ few among the
more educated classes who had not abjured their faith, not
only saw in him the hero of the military glories of the nation,
but the protector of the national religion. Far-seeing politicians perceived in this act of the free-thinking First Consul,
who had taken such a deep interest in the doctrines of Ma31




482            NELSON AT COPENHAGEN.         [A. D. 1801
hornet when he was in Egypt, a step in the direction of highei
power. A consul for ten years did not require the aid of a
Pope, whose tenure would probably not be so long; and these
forebodings or hopes received a further proof when the man
who hadl commenced his authority by silencing the press, now
entered into a concordat or agreement with the Papacy, by
which many of its ecclesiastical privileges were restored.
Buonaparte gave some advantages to the Church that he
might gain its support against other orders in the State. The
Church was contented with the little it received, as furnishing a stepping-stone to more. It was a great move for
one of the contracting parties to have regained its legal existence and authority in France; it was a still greater gain to
the other to have obtained the support of a strongly organised
body of men, who acted as a moral police in the rural districts, and gave only such views of public affairs as suited the
ruling power.
There was now peace round all the borders of France except the sea. On that perpetually hostile element the English rode supreme. A race of captains had been trained in
the eight years of war such as no nation had ever possessed.
Dashing and sagacious at once, the commanders of British
ships were a parallel to the leaders on land who lent their aid
to the First Consul. WThat Buonaparte was to the French
army, Nelson was to to the English fleet. He was its chief and
model at the same time..While the First Consul was working in his little study in the Tuileries, holding the threads of
all the Continental policies in his hands, intimation reached
the English government of a hostile armament going on
among the Northern Powers. Denmark, Sweden, and Russia, were won over to throw off what he had persuaded them:to consider the galling yoke of British supremacy. But while
their ships were getting ready, and the French partisans were
rejoicing in the anticipated blow, his hopes were overthrown
in the most unexpected manner. A fleet was sent to the
Baltic under the flag of Sir Hyde Parker, but under the
guidance and commancl of Nelson, the passage of Elsinore




A. D. 1802.]      PEAC1E OF AMIEN-S.                 483
was forced, and the Danish fleet exterminated at Copenhagen
on the 2d of April.  While the French occupiers of Savoy
and the Prussian seizers of Silesia were lost in virtuous indignation at this nefarious attack on a neighbour in a time of
peace, the English admiral spread all sail up the Baltic in
search of the Swedish fleet,-which, fortunately, had time to
ensconce itself under the defences of Carlscrona,-andc continued his career till he presented all his broadsides in front
of the town of Revel (14th May).  Napoleon had suffered a
greater loss than the destruction of the Danes in the death
of the Russian Paul. The mad admiration of that savage
ruler had placed the resources of all the Russias in his hands;
but it scarcely needed the sight of so mlany guns to persuade
his successor, Alexander, to resume his friendly relations with
England.  Sweden Nwas glad to escape with only a passing
view of Nelson; and Denmark, without a mast to hoist a
flag on, surrendered her attempt to aid the Emperor with her
maritime strength.
But though undisputed mistress of the seas, Britain saw
no use in maintaining the struggle, in which she was left
alone. What were the objects she contended for?  The nation at large had no interest in the restoration of the fanatical
or sensual Bourbons.  Many persons maintained already that
one people had no right to interfere with the internal arrangements of another.  Others thought that Buonaparte, being
satisfied with his success, would have no farther ambition;
and the great body of the nation were tired of paying taxes,
and wished to be left alone.  On the 25th of 3March,-1802,
the Peace of Amiens, between France and England, gave
some breathing-time to both. But neither trusted the other.
The sword was half-drawn at the moment the pen was signing the ratification.  Buonaparte pursued his schemes of aggrandisement while the preliminaries were being arranged.
He obtained a change in the government of some of the republics he had established very favourable to himself.  He
fitted out an expedition against St. Domingo, which spread
alarm among our West-Indian possessions.  The small prov



484                   WAR AGAIN.             [A. D. 1803
ince of the Valais in Switzerland was detached from the Helvetic Republic, and furnished an unencumbered access to
Italy. The great causeway of the Simplon, on which armies
and. artillery could be moved as on a level, was begun; the
whole kingdom of Piedmont was incorporated with France,
and every camp and barrack throughout all that vast extent,
from the Channel to Lombardy, was filled with fresh-raised
troops. Drilling went on as in the heat of a war, and six
hundred thousand men slept, as it were, upon their arms.
This was not the sort of peace that England had agreed to.
The First Consul had added millions to his subjects and
thousands to his army, almost before the ink of the treaty was
dry; and surrounded by his new populations and his recently
enrolled battalions, he insisted haughtily and insultingly on
England fulfilling her part of the agreement to the letter.
She was to surrender Alexandria, which she had won with the
sword after defeating the relics of the French expedition
which Buonaparte deserted.  She had to resign the Cape of
Good Hope to the Batavian Republic, of which he was now
virtually the chief; Malta to the Knights of St. John, who
could not resist him for an hour. The circumstances were
entirely changed, and England declined to denude herself of
her conquests till he replaced himself in the position he held
at the date of the peace. Heroic in some of his aspirations,
unequalled as a leader in the field, unmatched as a politician,
Buonaparte was at the same time as impetuous and uncivil
in manner, and coarse in language, as the lowest frequenter
of the canteen. Ignorant altogether of the polish and selfrespect which we distinguish with the name of gentlemanly
conduct, he knew neither how to behave with dignity to his
equals nor kindness to his inferiors. He attacked the English ambassador with the most vulgar insolence in presence
of the court-scolded, stormed, and threatened like a drunken
grenadier, and finally bounced out of the apartment like a
sulky child. He had said, if England drew the sword he
would throw away the scabbard. England was not in the
least afraid, and declared war on the 18th of May, 1803.




X D. 1803.]      THnEAT OF INVASION.               4S5
She commenced by the harsh, though not unexampled,
proceeding of laying an embargo on all French vessels in her
harbours.  Buonaparte retorted by the unheard-of cruelty of
consigning to his military prisons all the English travellers
whom the peace had attracted to every part of France. They
were condemned to linger far from home for many yearsmen and their wives and children, who could have had no possible effect on the course of hostilities, but whose detention
embittered the feelings of the British nation to a degree which
only the death or overthrow of the oppressor could diminish.
False accusations of complicity in designs to murder him —
because the misguided fanatics who meditated the crime proceeded to the scene of their attempts from Englandcl-still
farther heightened the indignation of the British public.
But when, in addition to these insults to our honour, our
safety became endangered by the parade of a vast army at
Boulogne, called the Army of Englandl, and flat-bottomed
boats for its conveyance to our shores were collected from all
the harbours of France, a mad enthusiasm of hatred and
patriotism took possession of the whole people; and while a
hundred and sixty thousand sailors defended the meteor-flag
at sea, there were more than half a million armed men lining
all the heights from Dover to the Land's End. Austria was
also on the watch: she had been alarmed by Buonaparte's
seizure of the Electorate of IHanover, which, though a hereditary possession of the English king, formed a portion of the
German Empire; and all the other kingdoms were uneasy,
and carried on their preparations without noise.
Events meanwhile were taking place at Paris, which furIished new allies to his English foes. A conspiracy to put
him to death was discovered by the police; and Pichegru,
the old general of the Republic, and 3Moreau, the conqueror
of Hohenlinden, were implicated in the accusations. These,
whether true or false, led to the imprisonment and suicide
of PiChegru and the exile of }Moreau. But to strike terror
into the Bourbons, whom he suspected to be the real originators of the attempt upon his life, he determined to show that




486               DUKE D' ENGHiIEN.           [A. D. 1804.
no consideration of pity or justice would stand between him
and his revenge.  He ordered the young Duke cl'Enghien, a
son of the Prince of Cond6, to be seized on the neutral territory of Baden; and his secret and positive orders, joined to
the officious zeal of his friends, put the unhappy prisoner to
death beneath the walls of Vincennes after the mockery of a
trial.  The circumstances spread abroad: the solitary lantern
on the breast of the sufferer, the dark ditch of the rampart
where he was placed, the file of soldiers, and the hour of midnight-these, with the noble bearing of the young man, gave
the incident the appearance of an assassination rather than
the result of a judicial sentence. Injustice to an individual
comes more home to the general bosom than the oppression
of a nation. All hearts were shocked by this unprovoked and
apparently useless murder: but the supporters of the policy
of terror determined to cover the blot of the execution of the
young Condle with a proof of the national approval of the
principal delinquent. A few days after the tragedy of Vincennes, a proposition was made in the Tribunate to create
the First Consul hereditary Emperor of the French.  The
proposition was received with acclamations.  The Senate
made him  a formal presentment of the crown, and on the
18th of May the great drama of 1789 came to an end.
Here was a ruler with more despotic authority than Cardinal Richelieu, and a more implacable hatred of popular freedomn than Louis the Fourteenth. Yet the implements of tyranny had become so defective by the disuse of a few years,
the traditions of unreasoning submission and divine right had
been so washed out by the blood of the Revolution, that the
position of the French was infinitely happier, both in its present circumstances and its future prospects, than at any former time. The dominance of the priest, the insolence of the
noble, the exactions of the farmers-general, the exemption of
favoured orders, the uncertainty of law, the galling inequalities of social ranks, had all passed away. If taxation pressed,
it was at all events equal in its pressure. It did not spare
the chateau to fall with tenfold weight upon the cottage;




A. D. 1804.] NAPOLEON CROWNED BY THE POPE.         487
even the conscription made no invidious distinctions, but fell
on all alike. The French were contented with the equality
about which they had raved so loudly, even when they discovered it was an equality of submission.  But there were reasons
which justified a strong and repressive government, arising
from  the very novelty of their emancipation from  former
wrongs. If they had been allowed to riot in their ill-consolidated liberties, the Austrians and Russians would very soon
have encamped upon the Seine. The curtailment of their
theoretical rights was compensated for by the protection of
society from the outbursts of discontent. It was a temporary sacrifice to secure their eventual claims; and over all that
might be disagreeable in their political condition, there was
thrown the halo of military renown. The Frenchman consoled himself with the reflection that he might be trampled
on a little at Versailles and Fontainebleau, but that he was
immensely feared at Vienna and Berlin.  Napoleon the First,
like a new Charlemagne, made a tour to receive the gratulations of his subject states. All the European kingdoms
recognised his new dignity except Russia, Turkey, and England; and Catholic Christendom put the seal upon his elevation, when the Pope crossed the Alps to anoint him with
the holy oil on the 2d December 1804.  On the 26th of May
of the following year he placed with his own hands the
iron crown of the Lombard kings upon his head, and assumed the name and title of Emperor of the French and
King of Italy.
THE EMPIRE, A. D. 1804, TO THE MARRIAGE, A.D. 1810.
Honours and decorations were heaped upon State and army, to accommodate them to the glories of an imperial reign.
The two Consuls were rewarded for their obsequiousness in
offering their resignations, by being created Lord-Chancellor
and Arch-Treasurer of the Empire. These were intended to
he the chiefs of a new social nobility, and did honour to the




488           RESTORATION OF TITLES.          [A. D. 1804
Emperor's selection by the magnificence of their balls and the
unmatched excellence of their cooks. Eighteen men of a very
different kind were elevated to a higher military grade, and
added new triumphs to the title of Marshal of France. The
most observable of these are Iassena, Soult, Lannes, Ney,
Davoust, and Kellerman.  Two of them, Murat and Bernadotte, were afterwards kings-the first for a brief space at
Naples, and leaving no marks of policy or wisdom behind;
but Bernadotte was more wise and fortunate, and foundecl a
royal dynasty in Sweden, which has endeared itself to its
subjects by justice and moderation, and is acknowledged
among the established royalties of Europe. The institution
of the Legion of Honour gave Napoleon the means of appealing to the nobler feelings of his soldiers; and the equality
expressed by the medal on the breast of general and private
had an elevating effect on the great body of his men. It was
fondly remembered in the conversations of the camp that
Soult had been in the ranks like themselves-that Bernadotte, a few years before, was a sergeant-that ]Murat had
been a simple dragoon; and they felt prouder in themselves,
and more trusting in their chief, when they reflected that
there was no soldier's knapsack which did not possibly contain a marshal's baton.
Such intensity of hatred as burned between the new
Emperor and England never disturbed the councils of Carthage and Rome. The system represented by each was utterly inconsistent with the very existence of the other.  Military aggression, and the maintenance of internal tranquillity
by an overwhelming force wielded by one man; a settled order of things, even if not the best in itself, and a government
in accordance with the general will of the country, constitutionally expressed-these were such antagonistic principles
that either the despotic propagator of new ideas must fall, or
the defender of existing institutions be rendered powerless.
The fight, therefore, became more like a duel between two
irreconcilable adversaries, in which the seconds occasionally
took part, than a war urged for European or national pur



A. D. 180.]   THE CAMP AT BOULOGNE.               485
poses. It was for the complete destruction either of England
or of Napoleon, and the enemies felt from the beginning that
the battle was to the death.
The first act of the Emperor was to place himself on an
elevated throne above the town of Boulogne, and distribute
the ribbons of the Legion of Honour to the soldiers who had
distinguished themselves in previous campaigns. His face
was turned to the White Cliffs all the tiime of the ceremony,
and he pointed across the Channel with a promise of guiding
their next manceuvres in the fields of Kent. In all England,
Scotland, and Wales, there were not above ten millions of
souls. France, in addition to the twenty-five millions of her
own population, was backed by the millions of Germany and
Italy and the Netherlands.  But no man in all the Island
ever lost a night's sleep from alarm at an invasion of' the
French; that seems to be a plant of a later and less honourable growth. WVhile a hundred and thirty thousand men
were within easy summons to Boulogre, and boats for their
conveyance were assembled  in  all cdirections, intimation
reached the boastful threatener of the (" nation of shopkeepers" that a hundred and eighty thousand Russians were on
their march to the south, supported by English subsidies;
that Austria was fully armed by largesses from the same inexhaustible exchequer; that Prussia was trembling in the
scale, as in all her history she has never been guided by any
higher principle than her own immediate advantage; and
the plans of Kentish manoeuvres, if ever entertained, were
surrendered at once.  Marches were silently made, amnmulition and all the instruments of war moved without ostentation beyond the Rhine, and the dreadful intelligence reached
the German courts in September and October, that Napoleon
had penetrated the Black Forest, and placed his troops between the Austrian army and the capital; that the great
fortress of Ulm was besieged; that it had surrendered with its
garrison of thirty thousand men; and that the victor was in
full march to Vienna. On the 15th of November, Napoleon
made his triumphal entrance into the residence of the Cresars,




490                  AUSTERLITZ.             [A. D. 1805
and the unhappy Francis the Second fled to Olmutz, where
he awaited the arrival of Alexander and the Russians. The
Archduke Charles was approaching from  another quarter,
and Napoleon determined to destroy the Austrians and Russians before his arrival. He advanced into Moravia, deceived
the allies by a pretended uncertainty of movement, and
tempted them to their doom in the plains near -Brtinn, upon
the Schwartza.  The Emperors of Germany and Russia
placed themselves on the heights of Austerlitz as spectators
of the approaching battle, and saw the bright sun of the 2d
of December rise to illuminate a certain victory. But the
sun shone brighter for Napoleon than for them. 3Murat, at
the head of a powerful cavalry, swept the extremities of the
field; Lannes pushed at the centre, after overthrowing their
left wing; Davoust repulsed them  when they advanced;
Soult was upon their rear when they retired. One great effort was made by the Russian mounted guard; but Rapp,
the favourite aide-de-camp of Napoleon, carried a reinforcement to the French, and the combined Russians and Austrians were annihilated as a resisting force.  Some fled for
safety to a frozen lake at the end of the field, but the artillery poured upon their crowded masses, and tore up the fragile floor on which they stood. Whole battalions went down
under the fearful fire, amid the broken fragments of the ice.
The fugitives in other directions were pursued by the unpitying horse, and, two days afterwards, Francis of Germany
appeared as a suppliant in the conqueror's tent.  " We can
oppose you no longer; what terms will you give?"  "Will
you give up your alliance with the English, and help me to
ruin them with all your power? " was the first thought of
Napoleon's heart.  He trampled on the majesty of the loftiest throne in Europe, and aggrandised himself at its expense.
He rewarded his supporters with its spoils, and created the
Electors of Bavaria and Wuirtemberg kings, enriching their
crowns with provinces of their ancient master. He created
his marshals dukes and princes, and carved out whole countries to maintain their new dignity from the states of friend




A. D. 1806.]         TRAFALGAR.                    491
and foe. Prussia, with which he was at peace, furnished the
grancl-duchy of Berg for Murat, and the principality of Neufchatel to Berthier.
His family might have been jealous if rewards of such
magnitude had been given to merit alone; so he silenced the
people who found fault with his want of natural affection, by
giving the viceroyalty of Italy to his stepson Eugene de
Beauharnais, and two kingdoms to two very incompetent
men-the kingdom of the Two Sicilies to his brother Joseph
-the kingdom of Holland to his brother Louis.  Surrounded
by tributary kings and ennobled marshals, he returned to
Paris to enjoy the delirious congratulations of his friends, and
prepare for fresh conquests in the following year.  But his
remembrance of the year's events was not uncheckered with
darker shades. On the 21st of October the combined fleets
of France and Spain were defeated off Cape Traffalgar by
Nelson, who died with the shouts of victory in his ears. It
was not an ordinary defeat, which a little extraordinary exertion might repair; it was a total annihilation of the very elements of maritime power.  The allied nations had henceforward neither ships nor men. The very desire of naval rivalry
disappeared from the hearts of the French and Spaniards:
and while the tricolor was advancing in irresistible strength
from capital to capital, there was not a shore or harbour in
the whole. extent of Europe which did not see the English
flag undisputed and alone.  The great question was now to
be decided-and all men watched it as a philosophic no less
than a political problem-whether eventual supremacy belongs to the land or the sea? A great French author had
already said, " The trident of Neptune is the sceptre of the
world;" and now came the realization or disproval of the
saying.
The year 1806 opened with negotiations that led to
nothing, and the great struggle went on between the hereditary foes. England lavished promises and money, formed
alliances, strengthened her fleet, pushed her commerce into
quarters unvisited before, and kept up the resolution of her




492               PRUSSIA INVADED.            [A. D. 1806.
people by speeches, pamphlets, and state-papers. All the
theatres rang every night with " Hearts of Oak" and " Britannia Rules the Waves."  Napoleon retorted on his side by
squeezing French subsidies from subject nations, by tightening the reins of his own authority, by splendid reviews in the
Champ de Mars, and real ameliorations in the machinery of
government and simplification of the law. But the pride that
cometh before a fall already showed itself in his contempt for
other powers.  Some highwaymen in English annals have relieved their victims of watches and money with such a gentlemanly air, and even accompanied their crime with such
complimentary speeches, that the ladies were more charmed
than angry at the loss of their rings andl jewels; but Napoleon was not a sentimental footpad..  He tore away a province
as a more commonplace robber might tear away an ear-ring
-inflicting almost as much suffering by the insolence as by
the pain, and continued incredulous of the effect of his behaviour on the nations he outraged, merely because they made
no open demonstration of self-defence. Prussia-always selfish in her aims, always dilatory in her exertions-had waited
with anxious inaction while her rival Austria was crushed.
She availed herself of the dangerous friendship of Napoleon to
lay hands on the electorate of Hanover, the territory of her
ally George the Third; and having steeped herself not only
in the shame of spiritless acquiescence, but in the crime of
an actual dishonesty, Napoleon considered her too contemptible and too guilty to be defended by the other states if he
trampled on her neck. After waiting, however, till she had
irritated Austria by her desertion, and England by her injustice, Prussia began to writhe under the heel of France.  Napoleon had established a great society of secondary princes,
which he called the " Confederation of the Rhine," and declared himself its " Protector."  Prussia endeavoured to found
a counterbalance to this in the combination of the other
German states, of which she hoped to be the head.  But the
clear-eyed man in the Tuileries was across the Rhine in a few
hours after her purposes were discovered. On the 9th of Oc.




A. D. 1806.]       PRUSSIA SUBDUED.                493
ber 1806 the campaign began. It is called the campaign of
Jena, for at that place the crowning victory was obtained.
It was the Trafalgar of the Prussians, and from that time
they ceased for some years to be a military power; order, discipline, numbers, all were gone.
The conqueror bore his success with none of the meekness
or moderation of a great mind; he merely saw another kingdorn at his feet, and pressed on it with all his weight-nobody could resist, nobody dared to complain. It began to be
felt that a personage had arisen whom it was useless either to
oppose or blame. His marches were like the exaggerations
of romance-his battles like the strokes of an avenging fate.
The dates of that memorable month of October are the mere
resting-places of the Eagles in their flight from  field to field.
Saalfeldt, Jena, and Auerstadt (the two latter folught on the
same day), Greussen, Halle, Erfurt, Leipsic, Magdeburg,
G6ttingen, Spandau-these are the names of the places where
victories were gained by the Emperor or his lieutenants, on a
march of conquest beginning on the 9th of October and ending on the 27th with the entrance of Napoleon into Berlin.
It verified what he had written in his address to the soldiers
~on their departure from Paris: " There is not one of you who
would wish to return to France by any other path than that
of honour; we must not re-enter our country except under
arches of triumph."  The Eagles continued their career without a moment's delay. Murat captured the whole army opposed to him at Prentzlow on the 28th, and secured the town
of Stettin and the line of the Oder. By the end of the following month, Silesia and Prussian Poland were overrun,
Glogau yielded to Jerome Buonaparte, and Posen to Davoust.
All the country from the Rhine to the Baltic was traversed
by the French, and their standards flew at the same time at
Cologne and Dantzic.
Victorious over the bodies of men, Napoleon now determined to interfere with their individual interests, and to exterminate England altogether by overthrowing her trade.
His armies could perform wonders, but to stop the desire for




494                 BERLIN DECREES.            [A. D. 180
English manufactures, or the love of English gold, was a.
miracle beyond his power. Russia, Austria, Pruss,,ia, failed
against his forces; but Lancashire vanquished his Berlin decrees.  There was something almost ludicrous in the blindness of his rage. He put England into a state of blockade,
though he had not a ship upon the sea, and ordered all his
subject-peoples to do without English supplies, though he had
not a broadcloth or cotton-mill in all his dominions. Artillery, horse, and infantry were always defeated when opposed
to his battalions; but printed ginghams were irresistible,
There were conspiracies, beyond the reach of his spies, in
every parlour where the daughters were dressed in coloured
muslins, and cloths, cutlery, and earthenware were smuggled
wherever an English vessel could float.  The Emperor was at
last compelled to witness the failure of his plan in the apparel
of his wife and her ladies of honour; for they got their Indian
shawls from London, and their light dresses from Manchester.
The critics of Napoleon's career have traced his first great
mistake in his publication of this ban against the commerce
of the world; and his next in the non-restoration of its liberties to Poland. A nation, however, of fourteen millions of
people, which values its liberties so little as to allow them to
be taken away, and so riotous and unpatriotic in the use of
them while they retained the semblance of independence,
would not have added to his strength against Russia and
Austria so much as it would have weakened his designs
against the very appearance of freedom  at home.  He recruited his regiments, therefore, among the countrymen of
Sobieski; but left them  as denationalisecl as before.  The
bitterness of the struggle made the combatants forgetful of
the inclemency of the season, and hostilities went on throughout the year. Russia had come into the field, and brought
her climate along with her in the winter of 1806. She, however, brought her Cossacks also for the first time into European conflict; and for a moment the trained troops of France
were embarrassed by the irregular assaults of those sons of the
frozen steppes.  WVheeling round their march like carrion



A. D. 1807.]       BATTLE OF EYLAU.                 495
crows expectant of a meal, those frightful little Tartars, on
their equally frightful little steeds, left no repose to the flanks
of an advancing column. In the midst of a storm of hail, the
pulks-divisions of forty men into which these cohorts were
formed-dashed furiously down upon the blinded French;
their long lances pierced far into the line, and ere the musket
could be raised, or the thickened air cleared sufficiently for a
mark, the thousand dwarfs, laying themselves almost full
length along the backs of their ponies, and grasping the neck
in their arms, hid themselves from the enemy among the
hairs of the mane, and disappeared in the falling sleet.  On
the 8th of February, 1807, the great battle of Eylau was
fought between the French and Russians.  The cold was intense; the ground was covered with snow; there were three
hundred cannon pouring their destructive fire during the
whole day. A great tempest dashed the snow-flakes into the
combatants' faces, and interfered with the sight of the commanders. There was little room for manceuvring, and the
steadiness of the Muscovites presented an impenetrable barrier
to the French attack. The sons of the Seine and the Po, and
all the sunny plains from which their armies were now supplied, had never experienced a climate so fierce, nor enemies
so immovable. At length, however, the Russians, in excellent order, and with all their guns and colours, removed( from
the field of battle; they chanted the Te Deum for their success, next day, and were ready for another trial. But Napoleon, who knew how effective names were upon the susceptibilities of his countrymen, dated his bulletin from the scene
of the combat, and occupied it for eight days to show how
complete his victory had been. This was the most murderous battle he had hitherto fought; and as he was farthest
from his supplies, his losses were less easily repaired. The
Senate voted eighty thousand men of the conscription of the
following year, thus commencing the system of drawing bills
upon human life, which were discounted with the blood and
suffering of the whole of France. Eylau was practically a
check if nominally a victory; and it required the great




496                    TILSIT.               [A. I. 1807
achievements of the assistant generals to raise the spirits of
the army.
A  succession of triumphs by Bernadotte, Suchet, and
Oudinot, closing with the undoubted victory of Friedland,
won by the Emperor in person, brought Russia to terms.
Sixty thousand of his subjects destroyed or captured on this
dreadful day, wrung the heart of Alexander, both as a benevolent man and an ambitious ruler; his Prussian ally could give
him no farther aid; and in a few days after the combat the
vanquished potentates had interviews with the conqueror at
Tilsit on the Niemen. He received them in his tent and listened to their entreaties, but finally granted peace on his
own conditions. The two sovereigns were to accept the Continental blockade of England; to recognise his three brothers
as kings of Holland, Sicily, and Westphalia; and Prussia
was to pay enormous contributions towards the expenses of
the war, and furnish large tracts of her territory to enlarge
the neighbouring powers which had been true to France.
Having humbled two of the haughtiest magnates in Europe,
and had the opportunity of showing his supremacy by his
insulting and contemptuous treatment of the beautiful and
patriotic Queen of Prussia, who came to implore his clemency and generosity, he returned on the 27th of July to
Paris, the most powerful individual in the world, and the
most idolised ruler the nations had ever beheld. In spite,
however, of his rigorous measures against the liberties of the
land, and his silencing of all newspapers and pamphlets except such as the censorship approved, his efforts at an entire
suppression of public opinion on some portions of his conduct
were ineffectual, for the convulsive energies of the Revolution
had given a totally different, character to: the population
of France. Jacques Bonhomme was no longer either the
wretched unidea'd serf we saw hirm in the cruel time of the
dominant church and feudal chiefs, nor the unreasoning madman and blood-stained savage we knew him in the Reign of
Terror, but he retained just enough: of the memory of his former ill-treatment, and his former supremacy, to be watchful




A. D. 180 7.]    RETURNED SOLDIERS.                497
for any assaults upon the liberties guaranteed him by the
laws.
Napoleon perhaps forgot that, by the admirable theory of
equal rights and duties which he published as the jurisprudence of France, he gave a firm foundation for opposition to the
acts of tyranny in which he frequently indulged. The force of
an inundation is not known unless where there are banks by
which to measure its height. There was now a standard by
which a government's actions could be judged; and oppression, besides being impolitic, now became illegal. The conscription, even at this periodl, began to be hated, and the love
of conquest to be blamed in the midst of bonfires and processions. For though Napoleon had got the command of the
press, and the tribune, and the pulpit, and nobody could
either write an attack on him or make a public speech in opposition, there were thousands of living gazettes in all the villages of France, who discussed his measures with the utmost
freedom, and uttered curses not loud but deep. These were
the soldiers who had served their time, or were home on furlough, or had lost their healths in the service. While the
glow of military ardour was upon them, they marched merrily against a foreign foe: but when they came back, and
found the small field of their inheritance a wilderness for want
of culture, their relations starving, their brothers and friends
already called away to fill up the ranks of the army, they
took a different view of public proceedings. Every year, from
the first wars of the Revolution in 1793, had probably sent
back among the ordinary population twenty thousand discharged or invalided soldiers. In the thirteen years which
had now elapsed, the number of these experienced men was
very large; and at the same time that their apprenticeship in
arms enabled them to understand and glory in the bulletins
which told of Prussia vanquished and Russia humbled in a
single campaign, their intelligence also pointed out to them.
how useless these barren laurels were for the real improvement
of their lot.  They longed for a cessation from wars and victories, and- blamed the ambition of the Emperor though it,
32




498                   PORTUGAL.              [A. D. 1808
brought all the kings of Europe to their feet. From this
time, therefore, Napoleon's cry against England was that she
was the sole obstacle to a peace. Formerly his appeals to his
countrymen were about palms and glory-captured standards
and statues brought to Paris. Now he talked of corn and oil,
sighed for the time when he might apply his mind to agriculture and trade, and bitterly inveighed against the selfish
islanders for preventing him from turning his sword into a
pruning-hook and his barracks into mills.
Portugal, however, attracted his notice during these plaintive regrets and anticipation of the golden age, by admitting
the manufactures of England in contravention of the Berlin
blockade. He prepared an army at Bayonne, and obtained
permission to march it through Spain from the infatuated
rulers of that decrepit power. Shortly after the appearance
in the 3loniteur of the words, " The House of Braganza has
ceased to reign," Marshal Junot entered Lisbon at the head
of a large force, while the Portuguese royal family sailed out
of the harbour in an English squadron to seek a refuge in
Brazil-a severe price to pay for wishing to exchange the
wines of Oporto for the woollens of Leeds! But with an
army in Portugal, and another at the foot of the Pyrenees,
the Emperor determined to make another royal family " cease
to reign."  The Bourbons met him more than halfway. The
old King of Spain, Charles the Fourth, complained to Napoleon against his son; and the prince-afterwards Ferdinand
the Seventh-complained against his father. He was constituted arbiter and master of both. He beguiled them to a
pretended conference at Bayonne; took them into custody;
obtained a renunciation of their rights in favour of himself;
and, abolishing the Bourbons from the list of European royalties, appointed Joachim Murat King of the Two Siciliesvice Joseph Buonaparte promoted to the throne of Spain.
Joseph, the elder brother of Napoleon, was a good and
easy man, not without talents, but with none of the energy
that had lifted five of the family of Ajaccio into royal iank.
IHe felt some reluctance in leaving the land of music and mac



A. D. 1808.]   WELLINGTON IN PORTUGAL.              499
caroni, for the land of the bull-fight and stiletto. While he
was on his way an insurrection, with frightful massacrequelled also with frightful cruelty by Murat-broke out at
gMadridcl; the Junta, or national government, assembled at
Seville, and proclaimed their legitimate king in spite of his
forced renunciation.  The old Spanish pride was up, without
any of the old Spanish courage; and Napoleon was obliged to
fight for the crown he had so ingeniously conveyed.
The fight would not have been long or the issue doubtful,
if it had been left to Spain and France; but a new combatant came upon the ground, who altered the position of the
belligerents.  On the 31st of July, Sir Arthur Wellesley
landed in Portugal with eight or ten thousand men, and on
the 22d of August won a great victory at Vimeira, which so
disheartened the French army that they applied for a convention by which they evacuated the whole of Portugal, and
left the English in possession of the field.  Dupont, the
French general in Andalusia, was also forced to surrender to
an overwhelming force of Spaniards, and the tide of victory
seemed fairly turned.  Murders and treachery were rife, over
all the land of Castilian honour.  More French soldiers perished by the knife than by the musket. Catechisms were
published by the monks, where, in answer to the question,
" Is it sinful to kill a Frenchman? " the Christian student
replies, "No, the  kingdom  of heaven  is gained by the
slaughter of one of those heretical dogs."  In every city
the populace, led by the friars, broke out into hideous excesses. They tortured and slew the upper classes who wished
to maintain order in the place, brandished their bloody daggers before the faces of the saints in their churches, and fled
to hide themselves in the hills the moment a French company was reported within ten miles. A coward inspired with
religious fanaticism is the cruellest of men; he thinks the
sufferings of his opponents a new tribute to the faitlh.  Napoleon, to place a bridle on this demoralising warfare, dashed
across the mountains in November, 1808; gained three great
battles against the regular army of Spain in the course of a




500             FEELING IN GERMANY.         [A. D. 18O0
fortnight; and on the 4th of December made his entry into
Madrid.  If there seems a sameness in the expression of
"making his entry into a town," it is owing entirely to the
repetition of the event. There were but two capitals of firstrate magnitude into which he had not marched in triumph.
These were Mioscow and London.  As to Vienna, Berlin,
Dresden, Milan, and the rest, he walked into them as he
might into one of his own villages; and it is not unlikely, at
this very time, when Russia seemed his most trustworthy
ally and obsequious servant, that visions of the Kremlin rose
before him, and of a peace dictated from the grand old city,
which represented equally the East and West —the east by
the oriental style of its buildings; and the west by the luxury
and refinement which characterised its society.
Alexander was closely watched while he was flattered, and
perhaps despised: but it was so evidently the interest of all
legitimate authorities to weaken the power of this new colossus which overtrode them all, that the sagacious Corsican
could not rely on the sincerity of the Czar in the support he
ostensibly gave him. Prussia also began to move; England
poured her subsidies into the greedy hands of all the German
princes, and bribed the Austrians to fight for their own existence.  While Napoleon, therefore, was busy in 3Madrid
reducing the chaos into some sort of order, the hated and perfidious Albion made a diversion on the banks of the Rhine
and the Danube, which carried him back to Paris to be nearer
the centre of affairs. Spain and Portugal were indeed only
second-rate questions in the terrible events which were aibout
to occur. We may leave them for a rapid review, when we
come to the time when all the different cords which were
held by outraged Europe. drew closer and closer to the lion
they were meant to enclose —when we shall see the meeting
of all the converging armies, and compare the share they bore
in the grand catastrophe; but at present we have to follow
Napoleon into Germany, where a tremendous spirit had been
aroused. It was not limited this time to the rich and great,
or to regular armies or constituted governments. In Prussia




A. D. 1809.]      VIENNA OCCUPIED.                 501
a simple major (Schill) had organised a body of volunteers, who
spread the flame of patriotism through the country, In the
Tyrol an inn-keeper, Hofer, made himself a name as honourable as that of Wallace or Tell. Everywhere the young were
on the side of fatherland and freedom; enthusiastic students
left the university to shoulder a gun; and unless speedily
quenched, it was evident the conflagration would spread from
the Baltic to the Bosphorus. It was quenched in blood by
the pitiless hand of the alarmed master. He made one of
his furious clutches at the heart of his victim before it was
prepared to guard its breast. He crossed the Rhine on the
3d of April; on the 10th of May he was residing in the
Austrian Emperor's palace at Schoenbrunn, and on the 12th
he took up his quarters for the second time in Vienna.  The
interval had been filled up with the battles of Abensberg,
Landshut and Eckmtibl (where twenty thousand prisoners
were made), and the bombardment of the capital itself.
Battered and ruined by his shot, and ominously discontented
with his exactions, Vienna was no safe place for a foreign
army. The Archduke Charles also was in the neighbourhood
with a large force. Boats were thrown over the Danube a
little way below Vienna, and the French army went across.
They seized the villages of Essling and Aspern, and fought
against the Austrians with such doubtful success that the
combat was renewed by the enemy on the following day.
Never was the glory of the Eagles in such danger as here;
for a sudden rise in the river enabled the Austrians to float
down immense balks of timber, which broke the bridge by
which Napoleon had crossed, and he was himself cut off from
his supports under Davoust, and his military supplies. Powder even began to fail; and after repelling the enemy by the
bayonet, the wearied conquerors were led backwards in retreat.  They effected with great difficulty a crossing to the
island of Lobau, and soon converted it into an impregnable
position. But an impregnable position is of no use if it cannot be made a base for offensive operations. For a whole
month the victorious invaders were cooped up on that isle,




502                   WAGRAAM.               [A. D. 1809,
carefully watched by the Archduke Charles; and watching,
in their turn, the proceedings of the enemy. If the Archduke made a false step, he knew his fate was sealed; to be
quite safe, he made no step at all. Napoleon had, therefore,
time to arrange his plans, and combine the movements in the
farthest parts of his positions in Italy and northern Germany
with his strategy on the contemptible piece of land he occupied in the middle of the Danube. Everything turned out as
he wished. The Duke of Bruinswiclk was driven out of Bohemia; the Austrian princes, Ferdinand and John, were
defeated and pursued into Hungary by Eugene Beauharnais;
the heroic Major Schill was taken and slain at Stralsundcl;
and finally the armies of Italy, led by the Viceroy, and of
Marmont from Dalmatia, joined the great army, and Napoleon was at the head of two hundred thousand men.
On the 1st of July, in the midst of a storm of thunder and
rain, he led his troops across wooden bridges to the opposite
plain. The Archduke's artillery was scarcely distinguishable
from the noisy skies, as it poured its volleys from a hundred
pieces of cannon on the long lines which marched towards the
shore. Two hundred thousand Germans were drawn up in
battle array to receive them as they defiled into the plain of
Vienna, where they had already immortalised the names of
the villages of Essling and Aspern. A little way up the
stream lay the village and height of Wagram; and here the
great contest was to be decided.  The inhabitants of Vienna
climabed to their house roofs and the tops of towers, and,
stretched out before them, perfectly visible in all their movements, were four hundred thousand men trained and disciplined, and now placed foot to foot for the purpose of putting
each other to death.  The Emperor of Germany had placed
himself on one of the hills on the other side; and we may
easily fancy the feelings of the Viennese and of their ruler when
the first cannonade declared that the deciding battle was
begun.  The cavalry was launched forth in reiterated advances against the Austrian centre; the artillery poured upon
it at the same time; the attention of the wings was occupied




A. D. 1809.]      AUSTRIAN DEFEAT.                 503
by furious assaults, and by mid-day the centre was pierced,
the wings enveloped, and Wagram was added to the crowded
list of Napoleon's victories.  The Viennese saw their defenders slain from end to end of the extensive plain, and
twenty villages, which had formed the great charm of the
prospect from the walls, devoured by the flames. Francis
had seen the destruction of his hopes, and ridden rapidly
away.
A humiliating peace was the immediate result of this
overwhelming blow; but its consequences were more fatal to
the victor than the vanquished, for in the intoxication of that
final triumph over the oldest of European powers, he resolved
to unite himself to the glories of antiquity by marrying one
of the daughters of the house of Hapsburg.  The French
people had thrown off their reverence for the glories of antiquity, in which their order had no share; and were revolted
as politicians and as men by the ill-starred ambition that
carried their chief among the royalties for his bride. They
saw Josephine clay by day before them, gentle and captivating
in all her ways, and recognised in her a child of the middle
class like their own wives and daughters; a type and guarantee of the new order of things. A crowned citizen was the
symbol of the great revolutionary principle which displaced legitimacy to make way for merit.  The French were
proud of the plebeian origin of their Emperor and Empress, as
other people are proud of the mythic pedigrees of their kings
and queens. A man of the people was a far higher individual, in their eyes, than a prince born in the purple; and for
the sake of his father, an humble advocate, and his mother, a
shopkeeper's daughter, and his uncle, a simple priest, they
forgave him many things which they would not have pardoned
in a descendant of their ancient monarchs. What he did appetlred their own work. They conquered at Marengo, and
Austerlitz, and Jena, and Wagram, because their equal hacd
done so. And all the tender feelings of husbands, and all the
sympathies of wives, were excited to the utmost when the
generous and loving Josephine sacrificed her happiness to the




504          MARRIAGE TO MARIA LOUISA.   [A. D. 1809
Emperor, as she had sacrificed her riches and influence to the
young Lieutenant of Artillery, and accepted a divorce, to
mak e room for a daughter of the C'esars. Austria gave her
princess with a shudder of humiliation and regret, and France
received her with a sigh of pity for her predecessor, when, on
the 30th March, 1810, the uncle of the Emperor-now created Cardinal-pronounced the nuptial benediction on the
married pair, and Maria Louisa became the wife of Napoleon
Buonaparte.




CHAPTER XX.
THE EMPIRE-FROAI THE AUSTRIAN MARRIAGE, A. D. 1810, TO THE
RESTORATION, A. D. 1814.
IF Napoleon, as was said at that time, in divorcing Josephine, divorced France also, he did not succeed in quieting
the fears of Europe by his Imperial marriage. England persisted in her obstinacy, " insular and brutal," as the Jlioniteeur
called it, and only added to the bitterness of her satires and
caricatures, and sang "Rule, Britannia" louder than ever.
Disagreeable news came by every post to the Tuileries from
Spain, and secret reports brought information of the discontent of the German States. The letters and embassies of
congratulation the Emperor received on the birth of his sonwhom he created King of Rome-on the 20th of March, 1811,
did not blind him to the real state of feeling. It seemed,
indeed, a confirmation of his power, and an establishment of
his dynasty. But that was precisely what his allies did not
want, and his enemies would not acknowledge. Russia began
to be uneasy at the continued prospect of being shut out from
commerce and aggrandisement.  The self-willed despot in
France would neither let her trade with England nor enrich
herself with the spoils of Turkey.  She could not lie idle,
with neither the sword nor the yard measure in her hand-at
all events, without the taxes upon imports in her exchequer;
and in 1812 she opened her harbours to British manufactures,
and persuaded Sweden to join in breaking the imperial decrees.  To trade with England was to fight with Napoleon;
and Russia prepared for the combat by raising soldiers against




506               WAR WITH RUSSIA.           [A. D. 1812
the one and getting subsidies from the other. The conduct
of Sweden was more unaccountable; for one of' the generals
of the Empire had been adopted into the royal family, and
was acknowledged heir-apparent and regent of the kingdom.
This was Bernadotte-a true Frenchman in his genius and
courage; but the vulgar insolence of the Emperor's manners
had offended his pride-his contemptuous commands offended
his patriotic feeling towards the new country which had placed
its crown on his head-and he threw his weight into the
scale, not against France, which he still loved with filial affection, but against Napoleon, whom he considered its tyrant
and oppressor.
Mluttering denunciations against the ingratitude of his
subordinate officer, the great soldier set out on his campaign
against the north. Six hundred thousand men were rapidly
converging towards the Niemen; two hundred thousand were
left to support the intrusive king in Spain; three hundred
thousand were scattered over the different fortresses at home
and abroad; three hundred thousand mercenaries were held
at his orders by various powers; and, with a military establishment of fourteen hundred thousand men, he left Paris on
the 9th of May 1812, and made his first halt at Dresden.
The only kings Louis the Fourteenth ever saw as his dependants were the mean-spirited James of England, whom he fed
with scraps from his table, and his young grandson, the King
of Spain, whom he treated like a child.  More mean-spirited
than James, and more childish in their submission than Philip
of Bourbon, was the mob of emperors and kings who now paid
court to Napoleon in the capital of Saxony. Princes, dukes,
arch-chancellors, and other high-sounding potentates, were
delighted if they succeeded in crouching and bribing their
way to the antechamber.  Crowned heads jostled each other
in the hall of audience, and laughed at the jokes or trembled
at the bursts of passion of the rude and unchanged student
of Brienne and barrack-room lieutenant.  There were the
Emperor of Austria, the Kings of Prussia, Saxony, Bavaria,
Wftirtemburg, Westphalia, Naples, and Spain-and Eugene,




A. D. 1812.] NAPOLEON CROSSES THE NIEMEN.          507
the son of Josephine, Viceroy of Italy. Maclame Tussaud's
waxworks in London, where all the notorieties of the world
were crowded in one room, are the only parallel to this asselmblage; and those waxen images are as capable of independent thought or action as their prototypes were in the
presence of the man who had marched through the civilised
world at the double-quick step, and was now about to trample out the pride of Russia as he had trampled out the liberties of Europe. This was the last time he held a levee of
kings, and was the solitary glimpse of the great scheme he
once entertained of establishing an Empire of the WVest,
where the kingdoms should be ruled by nominated kings, and
all be responsible to the central authority.  Their majesties,
on this occasion, were humiliated while they staid, and embittered when they went away. There was not one of them
whose self-respect and dignity had not been wounded by
insult, or whose people had not been ruined by exactions.
There might be festive toasts drunk at their stately dinners
of " Success to the imperial arms," but in their secret hearts
they loved and reverenced the Emperor Alexander, who resisted the plebeian tyranny by which they were all oppressed.
The advance was as wonderful as the preparations for it
had been. Napoleon crossed the Niemen in the end of June,
and felt the magnitude of the risk when he trod on Russian
ground. The Russians, we may calinost say, were fortunately
in that state of the progress of nations when the peasantry
were mere machines, and the upper class undisputed lords.
There was brute force in those countless multitudes, and intellectual power to guide it. The land was everywhere laid
waste, and the armies retired behind the desert they had
made. Barclay de Tolly, the commander-in-chief, had the
magnanimity, like Fabius of old, to allow himself to be considered too cautious, and would not risk a battle.  But the
impatience of his countrymen at last prevailed: a new commander was appointed, and Napoleon was filled with delight.
To tempt them more surely to a combat, he besieged the
t)wn of Smolensk, garrisoned by thirty thousand men, and




508               REACHES MIOSCOW.           [A. D. 1812.
protected by a hundred thousand outside the walls. The
slaughter of his forces was prodigious, and the gain very
slight; for, on entering the town, it was found to be evacuated both by garrison and inhabitants.  In the deserted
streets of the burning town, the conqueror considered his position.  Before him were the sterile levels which led to Moscow-the natives hostile-the enemy hovering round his
march, and the winter not far off. But to return would
have been nearly as difficult, considered as a march, and more
unfortunate as a political move. I-e gave orders for the advance, and the fate of his great army was sealed.
After struggles at every river, the Russians ventured on
a great battle at last at Borodino, on the Moskowa.  They
displayed their usual stolid gallantry, and received their usual
reward: they were defeated, but with such loss to the victors that the practical advantage was on their side. The
field of Borodino was covered with more corpses, and retained
with greater difficulty, than the snow-covered ground at Eylau. But the invaders moved on, and on the 14th of September the gilded roofs of Moscow, and the imposing masses
of the Kremlin, were seen from the heights of Mount Salutation above the town. The army hurried gaily down; but
the streets they entered were deserted, the public buildings
were stripped carefully of ornaments and archives-there
wats no official left to ask for terms; it was a city of the
dead. There was no cheering among the troops when they
perceived the solitude through which they marched, and
gloomy forebodings fell upon the whole force. These were
justified to their worst extent ere many hours elapsed. Lurking in the lanes and alleys, the convicts and criminals, who
had been let out of prison when the town was deserted, set
fire to some of the houses. The French saw the conflagration spread, and trusted it would die out when it came to the
open spaces where the buildings ceased. But there were
other performers in this extraordinary work besides the
sweepings of the jails. Whenever the flames expired in one
quarter, they broke out in another. Raging, smoking, and




A. D. 1812.]        RETREAT BEGUN.                  50c
surging on their way, they constantly turned their fiery
tongues towards the Kremlin, where Napoleon had fixed his
headquarters.  If the wind changed, the fire sprang up in
the same direction, and always pointed to the citadel. Napoleon left the town for a while, but still the conflagration
went on. Alexander disdained to answer the letters in which
the invader proposed an honourable peace. Cold winds began to sweep over the ruined and unshelteredc plains; and
France was fifteen hundred miles off, and a desert swarming
with enemies lay between. He left the ashes of ]Moscow on
the 19th of October, and the greatest tragedy of modern
times, perhaps of all history, began.
In one unbroken chain of disasters and disappointments
the army continued its retreat.  Followedl, met, surrounded
by hordes of Kossacks of the Don, and nameless children of
the farthest deserts of Asia-intercepted by the regular army,
and cut off from supplies by the devastation of all the fields
and the desertion of the villages-the French left many dead
at every mile of their march; for, in addition to all these
calamities inflicted on them by war, the elements let loose
their fury on the straggling host. They were frozen to death
as they walked; if they rested, they never rose again. They
were footsore, hungry, and diseasedcl; but neither the sky
nor KIutusoff, the Russian pursuer, softened at their griefs.
Still pouredl down the unpitying hail, and still rained on
them the unpitying cannon.  They were at last a mere herd
of fugitives; order was at an end; and Napoleon, perceiving
that his functions as general of the expedition were over,
resolved to use his energies as Emperor to retrieve the glory
of France. He left the wretched remains of his army at
Smorgoni on the 5th of December, stopped at Warsaw on
the 10th, and on the 18th, in a dull, dark night, when
nobody expected his appearance, drove through the silent
streets of Paris, and reached the Tuileries at one o'clock.
Half a million of men, in the flower of their youth, had
died in these mad six months. There were, therefore. many
thousand cottages in France, and Italy, and the confeder.




510          CONCORDAT WITH THE POPE.   [A. D. 1313
ated states, which were darkened by the shadow of lMoscow.
The survivors, one by one, arrived to give a livelier image of
the sorrows they had endured, by the sight of their emaciated
bodies and frostbitten limbs.  Discontent spread armonOg the
people when the extent of the calamity became known; the
Emperor's name was hated in many quarters, and couriers
upon couriers hurried into that busy room in the palace
where he sat at the plain wooden table which served him for
a desk, and told him Austria had deserted the alliance,  the
Prussians have joined the enemy-we are driven back from
the Vistula-from the Oder; " and at last, " we have been
pursued as far as Berlin,' and " the foe is in full march
towards France."
It was fortunate, perhaps, for Napoleon that. there was
danger as well as sorrow to excite the people. The thought
of France being invaded had never entered any one's mind since
the alarm of 1793. The military enthusiasm  of the nation
prevailed over the grief of individuals, and by the end of
April 1813, three hundred thousand soldiers were on their
way to the Rhine. The Emperor was fully awake to the
perils of his situation. He resolved to put his house in order
before he joined the army, and entered into negotiations
with a prisoner whom he had seized some years before, and
tried to coerce into obedience to his will. This was the venerable Pins the Seventh, the Pope of Rome. After keeping
him at Savona for some time he brought him to Fontainebleau, and now forced or deluded the old man into a Concordat which allowed him, indeed, to execute the spiritual
offices of the chief pontiff, but restored him the domains of
the Church shorn of their independent rights. tHe was to
be Pope of Christendom, but no longer sovereign of an earthly
state.
Having thus got quit of a rival potentate in his kingdom
of Italy, he hurried to the frontier.  Two brilliant but ineffective battles at Lutzen and Bautzen (May 20) served only
to encourage the united Russians and Prussians, by showing
that they could resist him in fair fight. They were'not un



A. D. 1813.]       BATTLE OF LEIPSIC.               511
willing, however, to listen to his overtures for peace. But
their demands were still too high; they required a restoration
of his conquests beyond the Rhine, and the withdrawal of
all his forces into his own country.  The report which arrived
at this time of Wellington's great victory at Vittoria, which
overthrew the throne of Joseph, strengthened their position;
but Napoleon was moved by the same event. to a different
line of conduct. If there had been a victory in Spain, in
addition to those he claimed in Saxony, it might have been
possible to concede their claims.  But the French nation, he
thought, would not ratify a peace concluded on the news of
a defeat. He rejected all accommodation; and Austria,
which had acted as mediator, declared war.
Russia, Austria, and Prussia, seemed great odds against
the fugitive from Moscow; and the time had passed away
when the soldiers of the republic hurried to his standards, and
conquered Italy in a fortnight and Austria in a month. All
the young blood of France was poured out on foreign fields.
There were no husbandmen at home to hold the plough-no
merchants to push their trade. The land was half desolate,
and the population perceptibly decreased. Yet against all,
the proud heart of the " child of victory" bore up; the defection of the Bavarians who had served for many years in
his armies, and now turned their arms against their companions, did not change his purpose. He retreated to Leipsic, resolved to set all upon the hazard of one cast, for he
felt certain that in that position he could draw all his opponents into a decisive battle. It was the greatest battle of
which any record is kept. The huddled millions of Xerxes,
or any Indian invader, present nothing to the mind but confusion and disorder.  But at Leipsic the numbers of those
ancient and barbaric hosts were nearly equalled, and all the
skill of modern warfare, and the destructiveness of modern
weapons were brought into play. There were seven hundred
thousand combatants on this great occasion, and a thousand
cannon.  Indecisive on the 16th October, it was renewed,
after a feeble attempt at an armistice, on the 18th; and the




512               EUROPE IN ARMIS.           [A. D. 1813
French sustained, for the first time with Napoleon in command, a palpable and undeniable defeat. The Saxons, a
body of' thirty thousand men, went over to the enemy in the
middle of the engagement, and disordered his plans: his ammunition also began to fail; fifty thousand Frenchmen were
killed in the two days' battle, and twenty-five thousand prisoners were taken in the retreat. The charm of invincibility
was broken, and the allied kings now pressed forward with
more emulation to destroy the man they feared, than they
had formerly displayed to court and flatter him. Distresses
of all kinds gathered around him thick and fast. Every day
brought him the news of some prince turning against him; and
at last it was reported that the king of Naples, his brotherin-law and most devoted of his adherents, had left the camp,
and the cup of bitterness was full. The time had come -when
the hunters were round their prey. Wmellington was within
a few marches of Bayonne, flushed with a score of victories
over the Marshals of France; Holland was in rebellion;
Ttaly powerless; Hanover restored to her elector; Naples on
the eve of treachery; Westphalia expunged from the map;
and Poland blotted out as a nation. A  million soldiers
formed a wall of steel round his narrowed dominions, and
England over the sea continued pouring forth her inexhaustible treasure, and guarding every outlet with her fleets. A
bold spirit might have been pardoned for quailing before such
a combination. The love of glory in preference to repose had
at last been expelled by suffering from the hearts of the
French people: " Give us peace," they cried to the Emperor as he galloped past upon the street; " Give us peacepeace on any terms," exclaimed the Legislative Body, " and
guarantee to us for the future the liberties you have destroyed."  Napoleon did not reply to the people, and dismissecl the Legislative Body in a rage. He was the soTe representative of the nation, he said, and he would defend its
honour to the last. He sent off Ferdinand the Seventh to
Spain, in hopes of exciting a civil war; he also released the
Pope, in hopes of conciliating the Catholic party; and then




A. D. 1813.]       FRANCE INVADED.                   513
mounting his horse, and wearing the little cocked hat and
grey greatcoat, he began the most wonderful, the most scientific, and the most varied of all his campaigns. His old genius and youthful activity came back again.  The other commanders seemed paralysed by the fact of hostile armies being
on the French territory. They could not bear up against the
degradation of their country, where even a victory would lose
half its glory by being gained on an invaded soil. But Napoleon made head against all.  Galloping great distances by
night, through miserable roads and in the midst of storms of
rain and snow, he seemed to be present everywhere.   With
a fifth part of the forces of his enemies he threw them  into
confusion, and nearly into despair.  At one time they meditated a retreat, so rapid were his blows and so unexpected his
cross marches from one line of their advance to the other.
Negotiations were opened for peace, but with sincerity on
neither part. The Bourbon party began to raise its head, feeble and disunited, but supported by the feeling of the Allies,
who allowed the Count of Artois, and his sons the dulkes of
Angofileme and Berri, to enter France.
There was no further hesitation on Napoleon's side. "All
or nothing" was his motto, when he found the legitimate
claimant supported by the very powers which pretended to be
treating for peace. A series of manceuvres recommenced,
which military historians dwell upon with delight; but
science and manceuvring were of no avail against an innumerable array in front and disaffection behind. Paris was in
agitation. The threat of pillage had terrified the hearts of
the shopkeepers, and the Allies steadily pushed onward to
the metropolis. The feelings of the nation had become estranged.  And although the Emperor had still a hundred
thousand soldiers holding fortified places in the heart of Eu-.
rope, he would not relax his grasp even upon the distant.
Dantzic or commercial Harnburg, to increase his present force..
On the 30th of March the whole confederated army, the dwell-.
ers in all the nations of Europe, caught sight of the capital
of the world.  They filled the vast plain from the k3arne and.




514                  PARIS TAKEN.            [A. D. 1814.
Charenton to the Seine and St. Ouen, and sent their flying
parties to the outskirts of the town. The young men of the
Polytechnic School, and the soldiers of the garrison, were
eager to fight, and defended the suburbs with the ut'most
courage; but Paris could not trust to the results of a battle
under its walls. Joseph, the commandant of the city, retired; Maria Louisa and the King of Lome had been sent
away to Blois; and the great city lay at the mercy of the
enemy. Marmont surrendered on guarantees of protection
to life and property, and the sovereigns at the head of their
troops defiled along the Boulevards on the following day.
At that very hour Napoleon arrived in hot haste from Troyes,
at Juvisy, a small hamlet between Paris and Fontainebleau. If he had been twelve hours earlier, who can say
what effect his presence might have produced?  Now,
indeed, all was over. He got certain intelligence of what
had occurred, and in deep thought rode back to Fontainebleau.
Did he hear at that time that the entry of the Allies was
a triumph and ovation from  end to end of the fickle and
thoughtless capital of France? The Emperors and Kings
were received as conquerors and deliverers.  The rough thousands from unheard-of lands, the Cossacks and Bashkirs, were
run after as curiosities; the bronzed men of Austria and Prussia were welcomed as victors whom it was an honour to receive.
Never were operas so crowded, or meetings so enthusiastic, as,those where the Calmuck countenances of hideous dwellers,of the Ukraine looked up towards the beauties and celebrities,of Paris from the pit, and the kings and generals glittered
with gold and jewellery in the boxes. Louder and more brilliant denmonstrations even than these celebrated the entrance
of the Count of Artois in state, to take possession of the vacant throne in the name of his brother Louis the Eighteenth.
Long lines of enraptured spectators received the white cockade of the Bourbons with tumultuous applause.  The tricolor —dyed in so many victories, waved from so many captured
capitals-disappeared.  Napoleon in the mean time had re



A. D. 1814.]      E{MIGRANTS RETURN.                515
signed the crown; and in the courtyard of Fontainebleau had
bidden adieu to his Old Guard, and kissed the glorious colours he was never to see again; and was now taking his way
in silence and neglect towards the island of Elba, which the
wisdom  of his enemies had appropriated for his residence.
In clear weather he could almost see the shores of Italy, of
which he had been king; and in a few hours could hear
from France, of which he had been absolute lord; and there,
in solitary rides over his lilliputian domain, or engaged in
reviewing the four or five hundred soldiers of Jena and Austerlitz who had been allowed to follow him as a guard of honour, he meditated great things for the future, and left his
good citizens of Paris to admire the panorama which kept
revolving its variegated canvass before their eyes.
When the main figure of the spectacle made its appearance, the Parisians were somewhat disappointed when they
saw in the person of their legitimate king an old man of prodigious obesity, with heavy brooding features and perpetual
goeut. Sitting by his side, however, was another resuscitation
of the past, which awoke more painful feelings still. It was
the Duchess of Angouileme, the unfortunate daughter of Louis
the Sixteenth, and so long a prisoner in the Temple.  She
now advanced with pale and withered countenance along the
same road, covered with arches of triumph, leading to the
Tuileries, over which her mother had been so pitilessly dragged to the scaffold.  The representatives of the ancient line
had disappeared for more than twenty years, and so many
wonderful incidents had occurred, so many changes in position and opinion, that their very existence had vanished from
men's memories.  But now old names began to be heard
again which had had a great sound before the Revolution, the
possessors of which had learned nothing-and forgotten nothing
-during their exile.  They were only bent on making up, by
insolence and superiority, for their humble position and scanty
fare in Leicester Square and other haunts of expatriated men.
Store respectable while submitting to their fate, and teaching
languages or dancing to the citizens of London or Vienna,




516             NOBILITY AND PEOPLE.          [A. D. 1814
than when they tried to exert their ancient privileges over a
people who had ceased to remenmber the old order of affairs,
they quickly converted the compassion their protectors had
felt for their sufferings into dislike.  They reclaimed estates
which had passed through great numbers of hands since they
were confiscated in 1793. Houses had been built upon their
lands; canals dug between their villages; rents had been
paid to the intrusive proprietors, and Monsieur le Marquis
would not be satisfied without a full and free restoration
of all he hadl been defrauded of so long.  And Louis the
Eighteenth was scarcely in a position to resist his claims, for he
himself was playing, on a still greater scale, the same game.'He reclaimed all the rights, powers, and supremacies of the
royal crown; assured the people, while he was guarded to
church by Russian and Austrian bayonets, that he reigned by
divine right; and even in the bestowal of the Charter, affected
the airs of a man conferring a benefit out of his free grace and
favour, and took no notice of the toils and struggles by which
the people had won the right to be more freely governed than
before.
THE CHARTER AND THE HUNDRED DAYS, A. D. 1814-1815.
The Charter, however displeasingly granted, vwas a document of inestimable value: it consecrated by legal sanctions
all the true victories of the Revolution, and gave a point of
departure for the gaining of more. It is only surprising how
a man of the sagacity of Louis the Eighteenth could believe
for a moment in the coexistence of the feudal feelings of his
personal supporters and the clauses of so liberal a constitution.  The liberality of the constitution was in fact its weakness. The standard of good government was raised too high,
and the oldest established monarchy could not hope to reach
it.  A nation still heaving with so great a storm, with people
embittered by the animosity of five-and-twenty years, with so
many injuries to avenge on both sides, and such a total prostration of dignity and honour as the rapid alternation of suc



A. D. 1814.1          THE CHARTER.                     517
cess and defeat had produced, found it impossible to fulfil the
conditions of the compact it had made between the past and
present.  It could not satisfy the disinherited seigneur, nor
dispossess the roturier of his lately purchased estate.  " Seigneur," indeed, and " Roturier," had lost their signification,
but not their recollections.  The seigneur remembered his
rights and immunities-his donjon keep and gilded chair at
court; the roturier, within a month of the publication of the
Charter, began to remember the little man in the grey ridingcoat who had kept those harpies so gallantly from the land,
and scowled with ill-concealed hatred as he saw the tents of
the Tartars and Croats pitched all down the beautiful avenues of the Chamlps Elys'es, and met long trains of priests
and bishops going to return thanks to God for the humiliation
of their country.  Priests and bishops were busy in all directions.  Over every deathbed hung a priest denouncing endless
woes unless the sufferer restored his secularisecd lands to the
Church, or his government-guaranteed lands to their legitimate owners the refugees.  The Charter, indeed, became a
dead letter, from the incapacity of the whole people to understand what liberty was.  It guaranteedcl, st, Equality before
the law; 2dcl, Admission to all employments; 3d, Unity of
administration; 4th, Representative government; 5tYh, Taxation only by the votes of the representatives; 6th, Individual liberty; 7th, Liberty of worship; and 8th, Liberty of
the press. To this Charter all the officials of the court and
dignitaries of the kingdom were duly sworn; but it was observed that the Most Christian King did not swear to it hilmself.  It was his gift to a grateful and obedient nation, and
he would observe it only so long as its conduct deserved the
boon.  Its conduct became displeasing very soon.  It read
the clause about employments being open to all; and it saw
every position in the law, the church, and the army, customs,
excise, and post-office, filled by retainers of the old school. It
read of individual liberty, yet there was no protection against
false arrest, and imprisonment of undefined duration before
trial.  Liberty of worship became a mockery under the privi



518                  TALLEYRAND.               [A. D. 1814.
leges arrogated to themselves by the refugee priests; and liberty of the press was represented by a censor who prohibited
all publications which had not received his permission to
appear.
All this time there was an immense army of the Allies to
be maintained at France's cost, and an enormous war-contribution to indemnify the invaders against the expenses of their
campaign.  It was such a new thing for the French to pay
the expenses of a war, that they were doubly disgusted to be
forced to remunerate the destroyers of their fields and devastators of their towns.  The taxes from ordinary sources were
dried up; there was little commerce, and agriculture had
come to a stand-still from the uncertainty of political events.
The returned exiles had no money, and the whole burden fell
on the comparatively opulent middle class, who had saved
some hard coin, and were now forced to bring it out fiomn
their depositories under the thatch or in the dry well of the
orchard, and pour it into commissioners' hands for the enrichment of Prussians and Muscovites.  Unhappy Frenchmlen!
who used to hear the hundred cannon of the Invalides announcing the seizure of another kingdom or the gain of another victory-they had never formed an idea before of the
meaning conveyed by the words capitulation or conquest.
And now in their distress they had nobody to turn to in whom
they could trust.  The generals of Napoleon had gone over to
the Bourbons; his secretaries and councillors exerted all their
ingenuity in blackening his name.  Talleyrand, the incarnation of selfishness and falsehood, who had begun in the rage
of the Revolution by throwing off his dignity of bishop and
his belief in anything,-who had wormed his way to power
under every form of government-bloodlthirsty with Robespierre, constitutional with the Directory, patriotic with Napoleon, andl witty, pleasant, heartless, and deceitful with them
all,-this man of' much cunning and no virtue was raised not
less by his supple talents than his family rank to be chief
adviser of the king.  It was only natural that a Bourbon
should take counsel from  a Talleyrand-Perigord-l -the loftiest




A. D. 1814.]     CONGRESS OF VIENNA.                 519
of kings and the first of nobles. And the first of nobles
wrote proclamations against Napoleon, who had used him as
an instrument and despised him as a man, in which he attribW
uted all the ills of the country to his baneful influence, and
sneered at his countrymen for having submitted to an adventurer " who was not even a Frenchman."  Deserted thus by
their natural leaders, the military chiefs following the example of Berthier and Soult in slavish adulation of the returned
king, —Seguier and the other eminent civilians aiding the reactionists in every infraction of the spirit of the Charter, the
press muffled and the law courts prejudiced,-the people of
Paris were reduced to the gay and bitter verses of Beranger,
and laughed at the caricatures he gave them of the reinstated
marquises as loudly as they dared.  Very slight were their
hopes of amelioration from the Congress which commenced
its sittings at Vienna.  There, scissors in hand, sat the delegates of the allied sovereigns, ready to clip off bits of territory, and round the national maps to their own satisfaction.
Talleyrand was there using his bad eloquence in defence of
every wrong. England and Russia, who recommended milder
councils, were outvoted; and Louis heard, well pleased, from
day to day, that the monarchical spirit was greatly encouraged
at this court of kings and renegades, and put more trust in
the divine right by which he governed than ever.
M3eanwhile a hundred and thirty thousand soldiers had
returned to France; two hundred thousand more were scattered through the villages and farms.  They found their
fields neglected and their cottages in disrepair, but the object of their indignation was changed.  They no longer
blamed the conscription for the want they saw around them,
but the foreigner who had trod their soil, and the wretched
poltroons who, in their absence beyond the Rhine, had allowed
the tricolor to be trampled in the dust.  " If we had been
there," they said —" if the Little Corporal had had the men
of Marengo and Eylau at his side, this would not have happened." And everywhere, shortly after this, there were whispers about great things that would occur when the violet




520             THE LITTLE CORPORAL.          [A. D. 1814.
appeared in spring. Ladies wore violets in their bonnets, and
little sketches were circulatedl, in which the figure of a violet
was so disposed that the interval between the leaves formed
the well-known countenance of the Emperor, with his plain
grey riding-coat and little cocked hat.  He was talked of as
Corporal Violet; and the tedious winter wore away.
The insolence of the returned emigrants increased: the
Duke of Berri gave a decoration from his own breast to a gallant nmajor of his regiment, who had earned it by many years'
service of his country.  A refugee marquis saw the act, hurried up, and expostulated with the duke, demanding the decoration for himself as more deserving than a plebeian officer
who had fought under the usurper. The argument of nobility
was irresistible to a Bourbon prince: he took the ribbon away
from the rmajor, and gave it to the seigneur. All spirit, however, was not defunct in the regiment: the colonel rode up
and accused the prince of injustice; high words ensued, and
at last the colonel said, " If you had offered such an insult to
me, I would have put you to death." The end of the story
is, that the major lost the ribbon, and the colonel was broke.
But the electric chain was touched; the anecdote spread
through the army,-and the spring was coming near, and the
violet just ready to bud. All this time the Charter lay nearly
dormant; the Congress sat at Vienna, and consulted wisely
all day and danced indefatigably all night. Paris was in
uneasy expectation of something, it knew  not what; and
the son of St. Louis and descendant of Henry the Fourth
could not ride upon a horse, and astonished the spectators of
his dinners with the voracity of his appetite and the size of
his royal limbs. Citizen, villager, soldier, civilian, everybody in France felt, by a kind of instinct, that something was
in the wind —everybody except the returned emigrants the
fashionable milliners, and the ministers and statesmen of the
king. Renegade marshal and reinstated refugee were equally
satisfiecl that their tenure of power was secure; and though
at times a glimpe of the unreality of his position broke upon
the sagacious and gastronomic Louis the Eighteenth, his ap



A. D. 1814.]     NAPOLEON AT ELBA.                 521
prehensions were treated as visionary; and yet the violet was
just about to appear.
It did not seem that the bursting forth of that pretty but
common flower excited much attention in Elba. The island
was guarded by English cruisers, and commissioners from
various nations were resident to watch that the newly-appointed monarch of the Elbese territories did not leave his
domains. There appeared no wish on the part of that somewhat petty potentate to withdraw his paternal care from the
empire, across which he could ride in a couple of hours; and
he was busy making roads, building bridges, and calculating
the expense of a better pier to his imperial city of Porto Ferrajo. His only relaxations were scientific discussions with his
friends, and quiet evening-parties at the house of his sister
Pauline.
It chanced, on the 26th February 1815, that the ball at
Pauline's was deprived of much of its usual brilliancy.  The
captain of the English cruiser had taken his ship for a few
days to Leghorn; the commissioners of the allied powers were
absent on leave or otherwise engaged; and at ten o'clock at
night a small cannon discharged on the rampart did not interfere with the enjoyment of the supper that followed the
dance.  The report, however, had great effect in other quarters. Six hundred men of the Old Guard marched silently
down to the harbour; there they were joined by four hundred
Poles and Corsicans; and the whole force embarked in a brig
called " The Inconstant."  Just before the sails were hoisted,
the men caught sight of the grey riding-coat and cocked hat
as the wearer stepped upon the deck. Not a word was said;
the anchor was raised, no obstruction was offered; the little
vessel left the lights of the town behind it-and the Violet
was in full flower. Three tedious days were passed upon the
voyage; English frigates were swarming everywhere, and
some one or two passed in sight of the Inconstant. At
length French soil was seen, and the invading army landed in
the Gulf of Juan, near the town of Cannes.  The few inhabitants of that district were too remote from public affairs, and




522             HE LANDS IN FRANCE.          [A. D. 1814,
too ignorant, to be much moved by the strange apparition of
a thousand men disembarking from a brig from some unknown region beyond the sea. It was only on the 8th of
3March that the Parisians read in the Mfoniteur that Napoleon was in France. By this time he was in Lyons at the
head of a considerable army. All the forces hitherto sent to
oppose him had gone over at sight of the tricolor. At Grenoble he had been met by a regiment of seven hundred men,
who prepared to resist his advance.  He walked slowly forward to the front line, and said, "My friends, if there is one
among you who wishes to kill his emperor-his general —he
has it in his power i "  He unbuttoned the little grey coat to
receive the ball, and shouts arose of "Vive l'Empereur!"
while he continued his march with an addition of seven hundred men. The same enthusiasm arose among the soldiers
wherever he appeared-the ranks rushed into each other's
arms, and the officers shook hands. Ney, " the bravest of
the brave," was sent to arrest the audacious madman, and
promised largely before he took leave of the king; but when
he came within sight of his ancient chief-when he saw the
colours he had fought under, and heard the shouts of the men
he had so often led to battle —above all, when he saw the sorrowful but benignant countenance of his friend and master —
all his old love and reverence returned: he put his sword
into its sheath, and was again the Ney of former days —the
sword of France and follower of Napoleon. There was no
longer either the power or the will to resist. The exiled
nobility rushed off in headlong panic to resume the scissors
and dancing-kit in their ancient haunts; the shopkeepers
looked dubiously on at the flight of their new opponents, andl
the approach of their old oppressors; the king himself, on the
20th of March, left the Tuileries at one o'clock in the morning for the Flemish frontier, and three hours afterwards, in
the early glimmer of a spring dawn, Napoleon entered the
palace of Fontainebleau, from which he had taken his departure exactly eleven months before.
The Congress was still pursuing its labours at Vienna;
it           I'"'




C. D. 1515.]   ALARM OF THE ALLIES.                523
discussions were going on about the boundaries and populations of newly constituted states, when, on the 25th of M3arch,
the Duke of Wellington entered the council-chamber, and
informed the plenipotentiaries that their work was all to do
over again, for the Emperor was in Paris, and the grand
army as numerous and enthusiastic as ever. The anger caused
by this unexpected intelligence was perhaps embittered by
the excessively ludicrous position in which it placed the Allies.
They had been friendly enough with each other while employed
in the parcelling out of Europe, but now that the struggle was
to be renewed, mutual distrust took the place of previous confidence.  Prussia and Russia were doubtful of the continued aid
of Austria in the humiliation of the Emperor's son-in-law;
Austria was suspicious of the effect a great victory won by
Napoleon might have upon the wavering faith and selfish ambition of his German rival; England alone, of all the powers,
felt no doubt or hesitation.  She knew she would have to
fight and to pay-to fight her own battle under her own
WVellington, and pay her hard-earned treasures for the enrolment, equipment, and maintenance of all the whiskered pandours and the fierce hussars whom the other empires and kingdoms would pour across the Rhine. War resumed its sway
over men's hearts and hopes. Napoleon was declared a pariah,
and beyond the protection of the law. Thousands of soldiers
were gathered into camps, and there was the sound of marching battalions all over the plains and mountains from the
Niemen to the Seine. Louis the Eighteenth resided in the
mean time in Ghent, where he was surrounded by a small
court of hopeful politicians, who told him all would be well;
and tried to forget Versailles and the Louvre, by weekly parcels of oysters and other edibles from England.
On the evening of the 20th of March the streets of Paris
were still in commotion. The king had eloped the night before, a-nd the details of Napoleon's advance were confused and
contradictory.  Suddenly lights were seen in rapid progress
along the bridge of Louis the Sixteenth, now called the Pont
de la Concorde; horses' feet were heard in great numbers;




524              NAPOLEON IN PARIS.           [A. D. 1815
and at a furious pace a carriage dashed on with the blinds
shut, and enclosed by lines of cavalry, with swords drawn, at
full gallop by its side. It stopped at the first wicket into
the Tuileries gardens, and Napoleon was lifted out and triumphantly carried into the palace. Paris was quiet from
that hour. It knew that the arbitrament was taken out of
its hands, and all men stood in silent expectation of what was
about to come. In the little study, still shown to the visitors,
Napoleon worked as never mall worked before. He re-established the finances; reinstated the office-holders dispossessed
by the late authority; dismisssed the Swiss Guard and the
" House of the King;" ratified the sales of national domains
which the emigrants disputed; dissolved the Chamber of
Peers and Deputies; and summoned a great meeting of the
electoral colleges, for the 1st of May, to aid in the revision of
the constitution and its adaptation to the wants and wishes
of the people. The conqueror was now a legislator: the despot
was now a reformer. The acceptance of the charter of Louis
the Eighteenth had shown him that the time for irresponsible
authority had passed away, unless it could be disguised in
legal forms; and he professed his adhesion to the Charter,
with a firm resolution at the same time to adapt it to his purposes when the time of his revived power should come.
Mleantime he laboured night and day. Everything passed
through his hands; accounts, diplomacy, law, and the organisation of his forces. These came rapidly in. His old companionrs-in-arms took the command. Once more the tricolor
waved from spire and tower; and lying on the floor with
great maps spread before him, the Emperor designed the
approaching campaign by means of differently coloured pins
-one colour for Austrians, one for English, and so on for all
the nations.  Red-headed pins were very thick in Belgium,
for Wellington had gone over to Brussels, and was at t'he
head of an army of seventy thousand men, of whom thirtyfour thousand were British.  Green-headed pins were also
plentiful in that quarter, for Blucher with a hundred and
forty thousand Prussians was established on the Sambre. A1J




A. D. 1815.]   LIGNY AND QUATRE BRAS.             52
the farther portions of the map were dotted over with the contingents of Russia, Bavaria, Hungary, Italy —of all the peoples who could be roused by patriotic feeling or British gold.
Thirty-six millions were lent by this country to the various
powers; our annual expenditure was raised to a hundred and
twenty-six millions; our ships were sent forth again to guard
the sea, and the ring grew narrower and narrower every hour
which encircled the French soil. Nine hundred and fifty thousand men were summoned under arms by the Congress of
Vienna, and they obeyed the summons. Four hundred and
ninety-six thousand two hundred men, on the other side,
garrisoned their country, and kept watch round Napoleon;
and the great contest began. If he could succeed in preventing a junction between the Prussians and English; if he could
beat them in detail, and secure himself in possession of the
Netherlands, he might be ready with an army, flushed with
victory, to meet his other enemies before they approached the
Rhine. But he did not prevent the junction, and did not beat
the armies of the English and Prussians separately. WTe may
therefore take it as an ascertained fact that he failed in the
execution of both parts of his design-that he did not conquer
the British soldiers, nor take Wellington by surprise.
On the 15th of June he advanced to Charleroi, and sent
Ney on to occupy the English army while he attacked the
Prussians. On the 16th the battle of Ligny was fought,
where the French had the apparent triumph of remaining on
the field of battle. Blucher had something better to do, and
retired to keep open his communications with Wellington.
On the same day the combat of Quatre Bras introduced the
old antagonists of the Peninsula to each other once more;
and the same cheers were heard which had resounded at
Vittoria and Salamanca. The French had a slight superiority in numbers, and an absolute monopoly of artillery and
cavalry. We had not a horse or gun, and yet the British line
resisted attacks of cuirassiers and volleys of cannon all day long.
At last the Duke himself came up with a reinforcement; and
when, later in the evening, the guns and dragoons also came




5269                   WATERLOO.             [A. D. 1815
up, the enemy withdrew from the field, and must have looked
forward with sad forebodings to the future chances of the
campaign.  On the 17th the chiefs collected their forces for
the decisive struggle.  Grouchy was despatched by Napoleon
to hold the Prussians in check; and on the 18th the two
greatest generals the world ever saw alive at the same time,
met face to face, with the contending glories of a lifetime to
come into collision, and with all the breath of Europe hushed
to catch the first sound of the momentous result.  This was
at Waterloo. Wellington had seventy-two thousand seven
hundred and twenty men under his orders. Napoleon had
seventy-four thousadcl.  Blucher with seventy thousand was
expected to aid the English, and Grouchy with forty thousand to aid the French. The object of each of these subordinate generals was to prevent the advance of the other; an.d
so to leave the battle to be fought between the champions in
the field.
Napoleon was no longer the clear-eyed, firm-nerved commander of other days. A fate seemed upon him.  He could
neither avail himself of success, nor provide against misfortune, as in the times of Austerlitz and Friedland.  With
apathetic indifference, or blind obstinacy, he had refused assistance to Ney at Quatre Bras; with equal blindness he allowed a day to intervene between Ligny and his onslaught
on the English: and W~ellington had taken all his measures,
had secured the best fighting-ground in Belgium, and was
ready for any thing that might occur. It was a Sunday;
and while all the church bells in England were calling the
people to prayer, the cannonade commenced. Everybody was
in expectation of a battle. It was known in England that
Napoleon had crossed into the Netherlands, and that WVellington was ready to meet him. News was slow of coming,
and people's hearts were sick with the expectation of the next
mail. It chanced that, between the services on that eventful Sunday, a clergyman in Kent was walking in his garden.
His gardener was an old soldier who had fought in Spain. He
said, "c There's a fight going on, sir, somewhere; for I remem



A. D. 1815.]     TRIUMPH IN ENGLAND.                 527
ber when we were in the Peninsula we always knew when a
cannonade was taking place, wherever it might be, by a
crumbling of fresh mould."  He took a spade and dug down
a single foot, and along the smooth surface left by the steel
an imperceptible trembling shook down little pellets of the
soil.  " That's it, sir," said the gardener; "' they're at it sure
enough."*  Before the next Sunday came round, the news
had spread " from end to end of all the sea-girt isle;" joycannon had sounded from all the castles in the land; and it
was known that the greatest victory of modern times had
crowned the British arms.  A great price was paid for it in
the deaths of many gallant men; but lamentation was lost
in the general rejoicing.  For many successive hours the imperturbable line of red-coats had stood the charges of the furious battalions which fought under the eye of the Emperor,
and felt that the glory of France was intrusted to their keeping.  The squadrons of horse, the discharges of artillery, and
finally the advance of the Old Guard, had made no inipression on the soldiers of England.  And when the decisive moment came, and the distant guns of the Prussians proclaimed
that Blucher was at hand, the great word was given, the inert masses which had remained immovable so long, rose up
with a shout that reached the ears of Napoleon, and the irresistible bayonets poured on. Down in dreadful power swept
the regulated torrent of horse and man; and the French, surprised and terrified, were huddled into broken heaps.  The
day was won. Napoleon turned his horse in the bitterness of
despair, and silent, moody, and bewildered at the frightful
scene, made his way to Paris before the intelligence of his
disaster had arrived, and gave up the struggle as hopeless.:
This, be it remembered, was a war of armies.  The
French population had never heartily rallied round the Emperor, or the event would have been very different.  All the
* This curious anecdote was communicated to the author by the son of
the clergyman, as a fact well proved at the time, and before intelligence of
the battle had arrived.




528                  ST. HELENA.             [A. D. 1815.
nations of Europe could not have forced their way into a
realm guarded by the courage and patriotism of thirty-five
millions of Frenchmen. But there was now no object round
which the courage and patriotism of France could gather.
Doubting —fearing-divided-disinclined to the Bourbons, as
representing the tyranny of the past-dreading and disliking
Napoleon as representing the sufferings of the present, the
people were everywhere quiescent and expectant. Again the
hordes of strangers polluted the pure air of Paris with their
presence as conqaerors and avengers. Louis the Eighteenth
came back with his hungry satellites and royal and imperial
supporters. Napoleon surrendered himself prisoner to the
English, and was carried to the dreary imprisonment of Saint
Helena; and it was not till Time, the beautifier, had hidden
the harshnesses of his reign, and the bitterness and darker
vices of his character, that romance and patriotism gathered
round his story. At that fearful time the population only
saw in him the cause of their degradation and distress. It
was lnot till the memory of their losses and sacrifices was
softened by his death in that distant isle, that the glories of
his early victories and unequalled genius came back to their
hearts. But in a gradually increasing volume the stream of
his popularity flowed back to its ancient channels; and when
the generation which saw his defeat and suffered for his ambition had passed away, his fame became as dear to the
French at large as it had been to his immediate followers;
and Waterloo was forgotten in the earlier blaze of his Marengo and Jena. Poetry and imagination had never produced a
career equal to that of the student of Brienne, the son-inlaw of the Cmesar and arbiter of the world. Dull Bourbons
with their ancient descent, and wily Orleanses with their vulgar cunning, were unfavourably contrasted with the winner
of so many battles, the conqueror of so many kingdoms; and
it was foreseen by sagacious observers that the power of his
mere name would be irresistible if properly applied, so deep
was its sway in the hearts and passions of the most imaginative and military nation in Europe.




A. D 1815.1     SECOND RESTORATION.               529
A.D. 1815 TO A.D. 1824.-LOUIs THE EIGHTEENTH RESTORED
CHARLES THE TENTH.
While Napoleon was sailing to his destination in the
"Northumberland," and winning all hearts by his gracious
manners and delightful conversation, the king came back to
Paris. The feelings of the parties were more embittered than
before. Royalist and Imperialist were scarcely restrained
from personal violence, and Louis himself was forced to appeal to the Charter he had granted the year before as a defence against the outrageous loyalty of his friends. He was
forced also to appeal to the declaration of his allies, many
times repeated, that their war was with Napoleon, not with
France; for hostile views were entertained by Prussians and
other Germans, who wished to dismember the country and
render it powerless, since they could not hope to keep it quiet.
A more difficult position was never occupied by any king before. His adherents were resolved on undoing the whole
work of the Revolution, and the nation, though repudiating
the word, were equally resolved to retain the improvements it
had produced. Exasperated monarchists in the south showed
the spirit of their creed, and thought to curry favour with
the government by the massacre of Marshal Brune and other
supporters of the Empire. They were gratified with the
faint disapprobation expressed by the government, and its
exhortations to patience. Louis gratified them still farther
by declining to interpose the royal pardon between Marshal
Ney and the sentence of the Chamber of Peers, which condemned him to death. Wellington, the great and good, has
been blamed for allowing the execution of so brave a soldier
— having been a party to the capitulation of Paris, which
contained a stipulation against any inquiry into previous acts;
but he had no power over the proceedings of the highest criminal court in the realm, and still less to enforce mercy on the
irritated mind of the unforgiving king.
The Chambers were more monarchical than the monarch,
34




530               WAR INDEMNITY.             [A. D. 1816,
they tried to serve; and the ameliorations in law and justice which the last twenty-five years had produced, were looked on with evil eye as badges of slavery to a set of republican
theorists and an imperial chief. The family of Buonaparte
was banished for ever from the soil of France. The peers included in the same sentence all who had consented to the
death of Louis the Sixteenth. Up to this time the perplexed king had endeavoured to conciliate the supporters of the
Revolution by calling to his service the two basest characters
it had produced. He had made Talleyrand his minister for
foreign affairs, and Fouch6e, the spy and traitor of every
cause he had espoused, his minister of police. But the Revolution and the Empire were equally scandalised by such
representatives, and Louis gratified his own feelings and the
prejudices of his partisans by giving the supreme direction
of government to the Duke of Richelieu, a returned emigrant
who had been in the Russian service twenty years, and had
not acquired any violent love for liberty during his governorship of Odessa. He managed, however, to obtain from the
allied powers a reduction of the war-contribution and of the
period of the occupation of the country. France had now to
pay only seven hundred millions of francs (~28,000,000),
and maintain an army of a hundred and fifty thousand foreigners for five years instead of seven. While in this exceptional state, torn with party, labouring under exorbitant taxation, and guarded by garrisons of English, Russians, and
Germans, in every town, the Chambers held their first session,
and gave an opportunity for the display of hitherto unheardof talent and eloquent political debate, but did nothing
more. They were dissolved in 1816, and were summoned to
meet under a new qualification of the electors, by which a
contribution of twelve pounds a-year entitled to a vote.
There was no material in the country at that time for the
production, not merely of a parliament, but of a constituency. There were no constituted bodies in the State to set an
example of local government.  There were no corporations
to gain strength by union, nor any independent clergy, nor




A. D. lS16.]   LAW OF PRIMOGENITURE.              531
magistracy, nor landed proprietors of hereditary wealth and influence, to act as defences between the two extremes into which
society was divided. The interference of the State with the
subject had been carried to such an extent that the subject
could do nothing for himself. So many bonds existed between the simplest individual and the central power-there
was such a system of passports and inspections, of permits
and regulations, that the citizen forgot the traditions of individual independence. The law interfered with everything,
and left no part of a man's life to his own direction. Under
the specious name of a repeal of the law of primogeniture, a
syst'em of superintendence of a person's fortune had been introduced which was a complete denial of the rights of property. A father was prevented, not only from leaving his estate to his eldest son, but from distributing it according to
the merits or the wants of his children. The former custom,
which merely (as is still the case in England) provided that,
in case of no will being made, the landed estate should go to
the eldest son, giving at the same time ample power to the
possessor to leave it as he thought proper by testamentary
disposition, had been abrogated by the Revolution, and
lands and houses and money were divided between a family,
not according to the wishes of the parent, but in certain proportions fixed by law. This regulation, which was intended
to introduce equality, produced, by the pounding down of
large properties, a sort of macadamised road along which the
car of despotism can most easily move.
A constitution cannot be created in an hour, and the curious spectacle was now presented of a king and a people
anxious to settle the government on the sure foundation of
mutual rights and reciprocal obligations, and unable to do so.
France was a collection of individuals, and properly speaking
was not a nation. Its nationality, however, revived when the
foreign armies were withdrawn in 1818, and the sword was
again in French hands. WVith this sword they were to do
terrible things. With a court and nobility little altered from
the times of Louis the Sixteenth, and a population madly




532             TROUBLES IN EUROPE.         [A. D. 1820,
zealous for the personal equality which the Revolution and
even the Empire, had secured, every incident in Europe
stirred up the prejudices of the opposing sides.  The monarchs of the Alliance had generally promised free governments
to their peoples while the struggle lasted, and now used all
their arts to escape from the obligation, or to withdraw the
concessions they had already made. Insurrections broke out
in various lands e the royalty of France was anxious for their
suppression, the population of France for their success. The
Duke of Berri, second in succession to the crown, was assassinated in 1820, and the monarchic enthusiasts viewed the
deed as a declaration against kings.  Stringent laws were introduced, individual liberty was curtailed, and the liberty of
the press withdrawn. A revolution at the same time broke
out in Spain. Ferdinand, the basest of poltroons and cruelest of tyrants, had refused the reforms he had sworn to introduce.  The constitution of 1812 (an imitation of the
French constitution of 1791) was proclaimed.  The example
was followed by Naples, which had a similar king to complain
of. The States of the Church threw off the hated yoke of
the cross-keys and the three-crowned hat, and Benevento and
Pontecorvo declared themselves republics.  Piedmont was
not left behind in its fight for freedom. A cry was even
heard at the extreme east of Europe for a new life and a resuscitation of ancient glories. It came from Greece, which for
centuries had been trampled down by the brutal and utterly
irreclaimable Turks; and, -in fact an outcry for change and
improvement arose from all the nations which had aided or
even wished the fall of Napoleon.  The countrymen of nMiltiades were favourably regarded, or at least not forcibly repressed, by the classical potentates-who, besides, were not
displeased at the commencement of the dismemberment of
Turkey; but the Neapolitans, Romans, and Piedmontese, had
no dead and innocuous Demosthenes to plead their cause, and
the armies of Austria were employed in extinguishing the
hopes of freedom from Turin to Naples.
While the fever for constitutional government was raging




A.'D. 1820.]     DEATH OF NAPOLEON.                533
like an epidemic in all the Continental states, the island of
St. Helena was visited by a great storm on the 5th of May,
1821. In the midst of the noisy blast and flashes of tropical lightning, Napoleon was lying almost insensible on his
bed. Something in the tempest, or something in the lightning, recalled his wandering mind to the scenes of his former
life. His eyes opened for the last time, as if to survey a
battle-field, and muttering the words "Tete d'armee," he
sank back on his pillow, and his wondrous career was closed.
For six years he had complained of his fate with undignified
lamentations, and tried to excite the sympathy of the world
by exaggerating the miseries of his position.  Quarrelling
over trifles, stickling for punctilios, and avenging his misfortunes by insults and calumnies on the mere officials whose
disagreeable duty it was to see to the safe custody of the
prisoner who had so strangely escaped from Elba, he compensated for all his littleness, and all his faults of temper and
disposition, by the revelations he made of his former acts.
Such a repository of intuitive wisdom, and almost prophetic
enunciation, as the reports of his conversations and his dictated recollections at St. Helena, is nowhere to be found.
Those marvellous writings, like the Despatches of the Duke
of Wellington, have given their author an undying name as
a far-seeing, combining, and deep-thinking master in the art
of war.  By their published works. those two greatest of military chieftains are lifted out of the class in which their dcletractors had placed them: Napoleon from among the rash and
fortunate gamblers in the lottery of glory who risked all, and
generally won; and Wellington from the catalogue of commonplace commanders, who, with a good deal of common
sense and some knowledge of details, were indebted for their
success to the unequalled resources of their country and the
dogged stubbornness of their men. But Csesar never equalled
either of them in military tactics, or political organisation, or
literary skill.
The field was now free for a new order of affairs. The
French broke forth at once into a wild passion for parlia



534              INVASION OF SPAIN.          [A. D. 1823,
mentary government, which was inflamed by the belief they
had in the efficacy of eloquence alone to cure all the evils of
the State. No such orators as now ornamented the tribune
of the House of Representatives had ever been heard before.
Public speaking had never been a power in France, for the
censorship over- lip and pen had existed for hundreds of years.
A good speaker was now thought a greater personage than a
scientific and successful general.  Soult and Massena, and all
the marshals of the Empire, sank into contempt compared
with the thunderers of the Chamber-Foy, Benjamin Constant, Mianuel, Sebastiani, and Royer-Collard. These were
all orators of the highest class, and all on the Opposition
benches. The ministerialists had no batteries of noble language with which to reply to the fire of their assailants; but
they had power on their side, and the fear of change, and the
support of foreign sovereigns, and the zealous aid of the heir
to the crown, the bigotecl, narrow-minded, and furiously reactionary Coun-t of Artois.  Attached to neither of these
parties-scarcely supporting the constitutional parliamentarians, but steadily embarrassing the government by his ostentatious adhesion to  the  principles of 1789 —was Louis
Philippe, Duke of Orleans, chief of the collateral royal line,
and restored to the enormous wealth of his ancestors.
To try the firmness of Louis the Eighteenth in support
of the monarchic cause, the sovereigns assembled at Verona
committed to France the task of putting clown the Spanish
liberals who still maintained their constitution of 1812, and
reinstating Ferdinand on his absolute throne. A hundred
thousancl men crossed the Pyrenees, under the command of
the Duke d'Angouleme, and were joined by the remains of a
Catholic army called the Army of the Faith, which the priests
and other absolutists had raised in defence of the irresponsible Crown.  These apostolical and cowardly allies brought
more dishonour and dislike on the invading forces, by theilr
cruelty and insubordination, than were compensated for by
their numbers or moral weight in the country.  The Cortes
(or Iarliament of Spain) carried Ferdinand in honourable




A. D. 1823.]   RETURN OF THE FRENCH.               535
durance with them to Seville. D'Angouleme entered Madrid,
and, after a heroic resistance on the part of Mina, Quiroga,
and Ballasteros, succeeded in the object of his mission.  The
constitutional regency was dissolved, and a loose given to the
feuds and passions of the triumphant Army of the Faith.
But d'Angoul~eme was a French gentleman, and not a Spanish butcher.  He bridled the lawlessness of both mob and
army, and placed the late rebels, and all who were suspected
of disaffection, under the protection of French tribunals and
impartial law. Impartiality in the eyes of the Spanish enthusiasts was worse than hostility; and a royalist insurrection was with difficulty prevented against the protectors of
royalty, since they would not condescend to be also the oppressors of the people. At length the struggle came to an
end. A hundred thousand trained soldiers will always walk
from end to end of the distracted and demoralised land of the
Cicl and Gonsalvo. The king was liberated, freedom withdrawn, and a frantic mob received their monarch when he
returned to his capital with cries of-" Long live the absolute
king! Death to the liberals! Perish the nation!"  By an
unfortunate coincidence-though  perhaps designed by his
admirers -the Duke d'Angoulme made his entry into Paris
on the anniversary of the battle of Austerlitz.  The arch of
triumph, which forms so splendid a termination to the view
fromn the Tuileries, had been left uncompleted on the downfall of Napoleon; but wooden scaffoldings were raised on the
unfinished walls, painted carpets were suspended from the
top, and the arch itself garlanded with laurels. The ridicule, however, was not of the duke's seeking, and even Beranger spared him for the sake of his moderation and love of
justice.
The monarchy appeared strengthened for a while by the
Spanish crusade; and the minister, de Villele, thought he
might venture on the introduction of various measures which
had the appearance of a more liberal tendency, but was
thwarted by the secret influences round the throne. H-is
propositions were well intended but impracticable; they only




536       DEATH OF LOUIS THE EIGHTEENTH. [A. D. 1824
set men's minds into a state of vague activity, canvassing
theories of government and examining the foundations of
political power. One law, however, proposed at this time,
had a greater effect than the bills on Worship, Civil Rights,
Politics, and Finance. It was a law to make sacrilege in a
church punishable with death! Profanation-of which the
priests were to be the expositors-was subject to the same
penalty as murder. The peers passed it without difficulty;
but the press was in an uproar: people began to remember
the tyranny of the Church in the days of Calas and de la
Barre; and Villele withdrew it before it was discussed in the
lower house-withdrew, but did not annul it. To secure
more power by means of the subservient though eloquent
Chambers then existing, he prolonged its duration unchanged
to seven years instead of five, and symptoms were soon visible
of the uneasiness and indistinct expectation which are precursors of changes in a nation's state. Villele increased the
public anxiety by declaring that he should now be able to
close up the last wounds of the Revolution by making the
national resources indemnify the returned emigrants for the
loss of their estates. The Church in supremacy, and the
ancient nobility in power, were the prospects which encompassed the deathbed of Louis the Eighteenth.  " My brother,"
he said to the Count of Artois, " go you to your duties;
leave me to my prayers."  He died on the 16th September,
1824, and the intelligent portion of the country regretted the
loss of a well-intentioned though selfish man, whose philosophic indifference to everything but his own comfort had
led him to keep a comparatively impartial course between the
claims of the future and the past; feeling little gratitude,
probably, to a past which had treated him  so unkindly, and
no affection for a future which his sagacity enabled him to
see would treat him or his successors in the same way.




CHAPTER XXI.
CHIARLES THE TENTH.-A. D. 1824 TO A. D, 1830.
THE tide of affairs set faster than ever in the direction of feudalism and oppression. A secret influence had begun the
reaction at the end of the last reign, and now there was little
moderation observed. The Jesuits had poured back into the
cities, and were reinstated in the governance of schools and
colleges. Propositions were made in the Chambers to restore
their revenues to the clergy; and twenty-one new bishoprics
were created to increase the influence of the Church. All the
years between the Revolution and the accession of Louis the
Eighteenth were studiously forgotten.  One enthusiastic abbe
went so far in his prostration before existing power, as to
describe the Emperor winning battles and dictating treaties
as the " Marquis Buonaparte, lieutenant-general of the armies
of the king."  Chateaubriandcl, the most celebrated author of
his time, liberalised in his feelings though strongly monarchical.and Catholic in his principles, had been dismissed from
the ministry with less ceremlony than is generally shown in
the discharge of a servant. And even relics and indulgences
from Rome were received by the princes and nobles upon
their knees. A procession was formed on the 15th of August
-the day now dedicated to the fete of the Emperor, —' in
memnory of the vow of Louis the Thirteenth agrainst the Protestants;" and in this procession the King, the Dauphin, and
the Dauphiness appeared on foot. The veil was openly withdrawn, and the nation saw what it had to expect.  The great
orator Manuel had been expelled from  the Chamber, and




538                   REACTION.              [A. D. 1827
dragged out of it by force for an opposition speech. Beranger's ballads had been suppressed, and the popular songster
imprisoned. A bill was introduced in 1826 for the restoration of the law of primogeniture; and in the following year,
notice was given of an alteration in the form of trial by jury,
and of a new law for the regulation of the press.
At the same time the weight of authority was used with
harshness and injustice to crush any person who opposed
these propositions by word or deed. The Academy of Sciences ventured to prepare a petition in favour of literary freedom; the king refused to receive it; and the two persons
who had taken the chief part in the preliminary discussion
were dismissed from their employments —Villemain from his
office of Master of Requests, and Lacretelle from his Readership of Plays. The Duke of Rochefoucauld-Liancourt, a
member of the Chamber of Peers, died at this time; and
some of the old pupils of the Academy of Chalons, to whom
he had been very kind, endeavoured to show their gratitude
to their neighbour and benefactor by bearing his body to the
Barrier, where the hearse was waiting to- convey it to his
estate. In the Church of the Madeleine the police seized the
coffin-unwilling that such a mark of respect should be
shown to a member of the Opposition; the pupils resisted:
in the struggle the coffin fell to the ground, and the authorities in triumph carried it off in a fly.
Wherever the king went, shouts of " No censorship of the
press!" saluted him. He reviewed the Civic Guard in the
Champ de Mars: the usual cry was raised.  " Sir," he said
to one of the citizen soldiers, "I come here to receive your
homage, not your counsel."  And in the evening of that day
the whole force was dissolved. Paris, in fact, was disarmed,
and the army constituted the sole support of order. What
that order was to be was now very plain to all. A law was
proposed in the upper house, establishing a police of the press,
and was rejected. Seventy-six new peers were named; the
Chamber of Deputies, from which still less subserviency was
expected, was dismissed; and the gauntlet was fairly thrown




A. D. 1804.1           NAVARINO.                     539
down.  In this year the battle of Navarino —which practically delivered Greece from its oppressors, and was hailed as
the first national resurrection to freedom since the reaction
had begun-was viewed with very different sentiments by the
peoples engaged in it.  The English and French navies,
which were united in the entire destruction of the Turkish
fleet, took also different views of the result of their valour
and preponderating force. France was so enraptured with a
naval victory, however obtained, that even the supporters of
the ministry rejoiced in an action which greatly excited the
Liberal hopes throughout Europe. The English, on the other
hand, perceived too late the fault they had committed in exposing Turkey unprotected to the maritime attacks of Russia,
and called the victory of Navarino " an untoward event."
Yet, as naval victories were of more importance to France
than England, an opportunity was found for another triumph
in an expedition against the Dey of Algiers. Successful to
a certain degree, but not so brilliantly decisive as its promoters had expected, the squadron came back with its work
only half performed, but furnishing information which led
to a greater effort and more satisfactory result in a future
year.
In spite of government influence, which was unscrupulously used, the elections of 1828 returned a Liberal majority
to the Chamber.  There were riots with loss of life in Paris
and other towns.  The Villele ministry retired for fear of the
coming storm; and the helm was taken by Martignac, who,
however, steered only as the higher authorities directed. The
same struggle was repeated,-ordinances of repression on one
side and bills introduced in favour of freedom on the other,arrest of members and denunciation of ministers. lMartignac,
afraid or unable to go any farther, resigned in favour of Polignac, a personal friend of the king, and blind and foolish
enough neither to see nor understand the tendency of the
actions he was induced to perform. In this exasperated state
of parties, and while a new election was going on, the expelition long meditated against the Algerine pirates took place.




54z0             THE ORDINANCES.             [A. D. 1830.
Algiers capitulated on the 5th of July, 1830, and the result
of the elections was known on the 22d. The Liberal majority
was overwhelming; and the king and courtiers had nothing
to show on the other side, except the military glory of the
conquest of a new colony to France. Relying too much on
this support, and confident in the assurances of the Archbishop of Paris, who had been his evil genius so long, the
king determined, by a bold stroke, to prevent the meeting of
a hostile assembly, and issued, on the 25th, the fatal ordinances which rendered his farther occupancy of a constitutional throne impossible.
These ordinances were three: 1st, The liberty of the press
was suspended; 2d, The Chamber of Deputies was dissolved
before it had met-by this proceeding annulling the election;
and, 3d, The law of election was changed, and the returns
placed entirely in the hands of the prefects who were in the
pay of Government.
The fatuity of king and minister was shown in the little
effect they expected from the publication of this monarchic
revolution. Polignac did not increase the garrison of Paris
by a single soldier, and Charles was hunting rabbits at St.
Cloud.  But, on the morning of the 28th, Paris came forth
upon the streets. From every shop and manufactory emerged
the members of the Old Civic Guard, which had been so contumeliously disbanded three years before. Loud exclamations
in favour of the Charter were heard in every quarter of the
city. 3Meetings were held by the deputies who had been dismissed before their powers were verified, and the military
authorities were uncertain how to proceed. Muskets at last
were fired, barricades erected, and the excited multitudes
bore steadily on from point to point. Marshal Mlarmont,
who was in command of the troops, was unequal to the situation, and could neither fight with vigour nor temporise with
wisdom. The king, still deaf to reason, persisted in ordering
the revolt, as he called it, to be put down; and for this purpose there were not more than twelve thousand soldiers of all
arms, and some were disaffected, and all taken by surprise.




A. D. 1830.]         REVOLUTION.                   541
On the 29th the revolt became a revolution; a form of government was established at the Hotel de Ville, and Lafayette,
whom we remember as the young marquis who aided the
Americans in their resistance to the English, took the command of the municipal forces. The young pupils of the B1ilitary School applied their science to the selection of the most
available points of attack, and Marmont retired to St. Cloud.
Charles awoke to the danger at last; he sent messengers to say
he revoked the ordinances, ratified the Charter, and withdrew
his alterations. A voice rose from the provisional committee,
" It is too late!" and the great struggle was over. A lieutenant-general of the kingdom was appointed in the person
of Louis Philippe, Duke of Orleans, and he assumed the
place at once. He issued a proclamation on entering Paris,
which indissolubly connected his fortunes with the result of
the Three Days.  " I have not hesitated," it said, "to place
myself in the midst of your heroic population, and to make
every effort to preserve you from the calamities of civil War
and anarchy. In coming among you, I have carried with
pride the glorious colours (the tricolor cockade) which you
have resumed, and which I myself have long since adopted.
The Chambers will be assembled, ancl will take measures for
the maintenance of the laws and the rights of the nation;
the Charter henceforth shall be a reality."
The establishment of the Charter prevented the chance
of the restoration either of the Republic or the Empire.
Charles the Tenth made the last use of his power in confirming his cousin in the lieutenancy of the kingdom, and abdicated in favour of the young Duke of Bordeaux. Louis
Philippe, however, declined to receive his office from the
authority of the king; and on the 4th of August the last of
the legitimate Bourbons took his departure from France, and
hid his weakness and disappointment in foreign lands. Once
more he took up his quarters in Holyrood, the old residence
of the Scottish kings, and, on entering its gloomy portal,
must have mused deeply on the instability of earthly grandeur; for that grey:old pile had been the home of Miary,




542                  NEW LAWS.                LA. D. 1830
Queen of Scots, of Henry Darnley, and of James the Second,
and had been the scene of more suffering and sorrow than
any royal dwelling in the world.,
L.OUIS PHILIPPE, A.D. 1830 TO A.D. 1848.
A few days of earnest application, aided by the universal
anxiety to restore a settled government to the country before
the revolutionary passions excited by the struggle should
break out into uncontrollable excess, enabled the peers and
deputies to make certain alterations in the Charter, and
nominate Louis Philippe King of the French. The alterations in the Charter and the change in the royal title were
all in a popular sense.  "' King of France " was an embodiment of the feudal idea of the universal proprietorship of the
sovereign; "King of the French " made him the leader of
the people, but not the owner of their soil. The modification
of the Charter in the same way tended to an assertion of
equality and freedom.  The Roman Catholic religion was declared, in the first article, to be merely the religion of the
majority, but was not the religion of the State, or the dominant faith. The press was declared to be delivered from a
censorship for ever, and the Charter itself was placed under
the protection of the National Guard.  The Lieutenant-General of the Kingdom accepted the throne on the terms offered
to him by the Chambers, and began his reign, on the 9th of
August, as Louis Philippe the First. No monarch ever had
a more difficult part to play, or fewer adventitious circumstances in his favour. He was a usurper in the eyes of the
Legitimists, a tyrant in the eyes of the Republicans, and an
illegally nominated ruler in the eyes of the Imperialists. His
birth, his title of king, and the absence of the national suffrage (on which the Buonapartists relied), weakened his position both abroad and at home; and both abroad and at home' high the winds whistled and the billows roared."
A priest-led revolt in La Vendee, in favour of the ancient




A. D. 1836.]  PROSPERITY OF LOUIS PHILIPPE.        543
line, was put down by force; the suspicions of other nations
were soothed by a declaration of non-intervention; England
fortunately acknowledged the Revolution, and, by her politic
moderation, secured a fair field for the new dynasty; Belgiumn, excited by the example of its neighbour, dismissed its
king, and was clamouring for an incorporation with France,
to prevent its reannexation to Holland. But Louis Philippe
had the wisdom to perceive that the absorption of Belgium
would be war with Europe, and came to terms with England
on the settlement of the question.
Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, who had been husband of the
Princess Charlotte of England, was elected King of the Belgians, and speedily married the eldest daughter of Louis
Philippe. Peace was restored in the course of a few years to
the interior of France, and dignity maintained abroad. Fifty
thousand men were marched to the defence of Belgium, which
was invaded by the IDutch, and the citadel of Antwerp was
taken after a lengthened siege. Portugal was overawed by a
French fleet, and reparation exacted from the usurping king,
Don Miguel, for an injury to French merchants. Austria
overran the States of the Pope, and a French expedition was
despatched to keep the invaders in check, by the seizure and
occupation of Ancona. His Holiness must have been divided
in his feelings of gratitude between his assailant and his defender; for one took possession of his inland towns, and the
other made himself at home in his principal port. Meanwhile the tide of success swelled higher and higher round the
throne of the Citizen King. Riots, indeed, broke out in
Paris, but were put down before they grew into revolutions.
Napoleon's son, the Duke of Reichstadt, who had been brought
up at the Austrian court, and who at all times might have
excited the feelings of the nation by his birth, and as the
representative of the universal vote by which his father had
been declared Emperor, died. The Duchess of Berri, mother
of the Duke of Bordeaux, endeavoured to excite an insurrection in favour of her son in the western provinces, but brought
an air of ridicule upon her endeavours by the absurdity of hex




544             LAWS OF SEPTEMBER.           [A. D. 1836.
appearance, and more serious feelings of reprobation and disdain by the degrading immorality of her conduct. At the
same time a sympathy was established between regenerated
France and Portugal and Spain, which both adopted constitutional governments; and England, proud also of her parliamentary rule, lifted Louis Philippe into the great family of
recognised and rightful kings, by entering with him and the
sovereigns beyond the Pyrenees into a Quadruple Alliance.
The more, however, Louis Philippe became invested with
power, the deadlier grew the enmities of the factions who saw,
in the consolidation of his authority, the death of all their
hopes. Attempts were made upon his life-first by an' unknown hand, and then, in 1835, by a Corsican of the name
of Fieschi, who discharged what is called an Infernal Machine
as he passed along the Boulevards, and killed fourteen spectators, but missed his principal aim. The fiery spirits and
inflammable intellects of the French seem incapable of the
moderation which accepts a governing power, and gives it no
excuse for going beyond its limits by the commission of crimes
against which every honourable mind revolts. The freedom
of the press rose into license, freedom of discussion into incentives to rebellion, and freedom of accusation into provocatives
to murder. Wise and good men gathered round the throne
when it became the object of these detestable attacks. Guizot,
Thiers, Molb, and Dupin endeavoured, by moderation in the
tone of their addresses in the Chambers, to set an example of
peaceable argumentation to the parties outside the walls.
But political animosity rose into madness; and though there
were probably few of the opposition writers who openly advocatedl assassination, there were many who were perfectly
ready to profit by its fruits.
The "Laws of September" were passed, putting some
limit to the liberty of political pamphleteering, and Louis
Philippe became a traitor in the eyes of the silenced libellers,
as well as a tyrant: he was false to the Charter, and truculent to the people. To turn the attention of the nation to
more distant objects, Monsieur Thiers commenced a vast




A. D. 1837.]       LOUIS NAPOLEON.                  545
scheme for the propagation of French glory in the newly
acquired territory of Algiers. A conquest of the whole land
was meditated, over which the Kabyles and other inland
tribes exercised a nomadic proprietorship; and treasures of
great amount and the blood of innumerable men were poured
out, to produce a crop of barren laurels in the great Sahara,
and give a safe field of operation for the exuberant energies
of France.
Assassination still went its hateful way. Alibaud and
MIeunier, by failure in their attempts, seemed to render the
king callous to the conspiracies of the disaffectedl; and in the
same year he extended his clemency to an opponent of another kind. Louis Napoleon, a nephew of the Emperor, had
cherished for many years the most chimerical hopes of a restoration to the soil of his country and the rights of his birth.
A formal instrument of Napoleon had nominated him his heir
in failure of the Duke of Reichstadt; and in all the struggles
of his adversity-in the total desertion of friends, and even
the want of a sufficiency to live on-the Tuileries and Versailles never left his thoughts.  "I shall be Emperor," he
said, "before I die; I will govern France in the ideas of my
uncle, and then perish with a bullet in my brain."
Considered a half-witted enthusiast by those who did not
know the hidden recesses of that dark and mysterious intelligence, the news of his appearance at Strasburg, and attempt
to overthrow the throne of Louis Philippe with the help of a
few disaffected soldiers in that distant garrison, was received
with laughter by the public in England.  Something of the
same feeling must have existed in France; for Louis Philippe
declined to bring him to trial on the capital accusation of invasion or rebellion, and sent him to America unscathed.
From this time the parliamentary system was in full
force for some years; and henceforth we find a new characteristic in French history, and the names of ministers become
more prominent than those of warriors, or even of kings. The,
Chamber of Deputies was divided into three parties. Odclillon,
Barrot was leader of the dynastic opposition which accepted,
35




546           SELFISHNESS OF THE KING.    [A. D. 1837.
the royalty of July, but wished to surround it with demo.
cratic institutions. Thiers was the chief of another party
which accepted also the Citizen King, but qualified its adhesion with the maxim, "The king reigns, but does not
govern "-an epigrammatic condensation of the English
maxim of the responsibility of ministers; and Guizot, an
orator, philosopher, and historian, of whom  his country is
justly proud, was leader of the third or conservative party,
which admitted the policy of the last revolution, and the
changes it had introduced, but resolutely opposed any farther
progress in the same direction. The first would have made
Louis Philippe the chief of a hereditary republic; the second
would have made him a powerless ornament of a court; and
the third would have made him king on the same principle
as the legitimate predecessors he had displaced.
If the monarch of July had adopted the view of any one
of those divergent parties, he might have established his
throne on the security of the Charter to which he had sworn.
But he was false to all in turn. Selfishness, displayed in the
meanest form which selfishness can take-the acquisition of
money for himself and family-was the leading feature of his
mind. A master of the arts of cajolery and deceit, it added
a new charm to victory if he could achieve it by a trick or
falsehood. He demanded dotations for his sons on the most
unfounded pretences, and was the most importunate of beggars at the treasury door of'an impoverished country, while
he was the richest individual, in his private possessions, in
Europe. French honour and French  economy-two prodigiously strong passions when they are combined, were
roused against the insatiable pillager of the public wealth.
The dotations were refused or modified, and still the old man
persevered. He dragged his ministers one after the other
through the odium of asking and the shame of being repulsed;
and carried his duplicity into foreign policies as well as domestic aggrandisement, to the endangerment of the national
-peace. England, which had been on the kindest and most
confidential terms with him from the first, began to find that




A. D. 1840.]       PARIS FORTIFIED.                547
his friendship was not to be relied on if the chance of a present benefit came in the way. In 1 840 the relations of the
two countries waxed cold; and Thiers, who was at that time
in power, was encouraged to talk boldly of war and conquest,
and to boast of the superiority of the French fleet in the
Mediterranean, and the duty of France to support her ally,
the rebellious Pasha of Egypt, against the oppressions of the
Porte and the threats of England. Louis Philippe, whose
motto was " peace at any price," encouraged his bellicose little premier till withdrawal would make him ridiculous, and
then accepted the acts of England as wiser than his own, and
turned out his minister, in the midst of mnuch laughter at his
expense on both sides of the Channel. During the alarm
caused by the vainglorious crowings of M. Thiers, the king
had persuaded the Chambers to surround the great city of
Paris with a fortified wall and majestic detached forts, which
might put it beyond the attack of the enemies of France.
The sight of the rising battlements reminded the middle-aged
of the strange visitors they had seen in 1814 and 1815; and
visions of red-coated English anld kilted Scotch, and all the
national armies of the Continent, began to rise before their
eyes. Can this be the Citizen King, they asked, who gave us
such solemn undertakings against war and taxes?  They did
not perceive that the walls were protections against mutiny
within as well as assaults outside; and strengthened in the
belief that the fortifications were the bulwarks of his throne,
the king called M. Guizot to his councils as premier, and
hoisted the standard of resistance to all innovation.
By this time the glories of Napoleon had shone through
the dreadful setting with which they closed. Tired and perhaps ashamed of the peaceful policy of their present ruler, the
youth of France looked fondly back to the days when the
eagles flew from steeple to steeple, and the little grey ridingcoat appeared in the front of battle.  But again an air of
ridicule was thrown upon the Emperor's triumphs and recollections by what appeared the insensate conduct of his nephew
and representative, Louis Napoleon.  He had returned fiom




548       RECOLLECTIONS OF THE EMPEROR. [A. D. 1840
his deportation to America, and in the August of this year
made an attempt on the kingdom of France by landing on
the coast of Boulogne, and invoking his great uncle's name.
That name appeared to be an abstraction unconnectecd altogether with his earthly relationships, for no murmur was perceptible when the invader was sentenced to imprisonment in
the castle of Ham, and a tame eagle, which he had carried
over to be his standard, was confiscated to the zoological garden of Paris. From this tedious detention we may anticipate
the story so far as to mention that the ambitious prince effectecl his escape in 1846, and cherished undiminished hopes
of his eventual recall in the midst of the sneers and obloquy
of London.
But not the less deep was the newly awakened admiration
for Napoleon. Far off amid the melancholy main the ashes
of the great man reposed under a willow he had planted with
his own hands, and pilgrimages had been made by admirers
from every land to visit the solitary grave. All at once,
while his nephew was contemptuously detained in prison, the
name of Napoleon became a rallying-cry of all the parties in
the State. An application was made to England for permission to bring the remains of the unequallecl soldier to the
banks of the Seine, to rest among the people he had so dearly
loved; the Belle Poule, under command of the Prince de
Joinville; a son of the king, brought back the sacred relics,
and they were deposited with reverence and triumph under
the dome of the Hospital of Invalides, and guarded night and
day by veterans of the Grand Army. Paris was filled with
the Presence of the Emperor. In 1833 his statue, dressed in
his habit as he lived, had been inaugurated by the Citizen
King, and looked down from its pillar in the Place Vendcllle
over the prostrate city. Sentinels, ancient soldiers of the
Imperial Guard, were employed to show the column to admiring visitors, and never omitted to state that the metal
composing it had once been twelve hundred Austrian and
Prussian guns. The honours paid to the Conqueror of Italy
were intended to reconcile the present generation to its inac



A. D. 1842.J      SPANISH MARRIAGES.                549
tion; and no cloud appeared upon the horizon to give a
warning of the effect of these warlike recollections.
But in 1842 a stop was put to the career of personal prosperity which the king had run since his accession. A family
of five sons, respectful and affectionate, had spread the charms
of domestic life over the hours of his retirement from the cares
of State. Enriched with the fortunes he had procured them
from their relations, or wheedled for them  from the country, the princes had a course before them on which the
farthest seeing could not discern a cloud. They had acquired military fame in the campaigns of Africa, and de
Joinville, the sailor-prince, was expected to elevate the navy
of France to an equality with England's.  On the 13th of
July, the heir of the crown, the Duke of Orleans, was thrown
from his carriage and killed. The mourning was universal
and sincere; he was the most popular of the new family, and
gave a prospect of stability to the throne, by his possession of
courage and vigour. But Louis Philippe saw deeper than
others the fatal results of this sad bereavement. The deceased
left a son, the Count of Paris, an infant of four years of age;
and all the uncertainties of a long minority, in the present
unsettled state of the government, rose before him. Yet, if
money or influence could be procured, at any sacrifice, for the
survivors, the chance was not to be thrown away; and in 1846
every intrigue was set in motion to secure the hand of the
Queen of Spain for one of the fortunate youths. But the
vigilance of England had for some time been excited by the
aggressive and insulting attitude assumed by France. Islands
had been seized in the Southern Seas for no purpose but to
show the independence of M. Guizot, and to blind the public
to the reaction at home by an apparent activity abroad. A
quarrel, nearly ending in war, had arisen about the French
occupation and protectorate of the island of Tahiti, and the
expulsion of some English settlers; and while a secret enmity
was fermenting in the mind of both the ministries, a rapid
political blow was struck, which gained its object for a while,
at the expense of the respect of all the nations concerned.




550           COOLNESS WITH ENGLAND.          [A. D. 1846
Louis Philippe affected to yield so far to the reclamation of
Englandcl, as to declare that he would be satisfied with the hand
of the sister of the Queen of Spain for his fifth son, the Duke
of 3Montpensier, and made an engagement by his word of
honour, which was ratified by an equal obligation on the part
of M3. Guizot, that the marriage should not take place at the
same time with that of her sister, but be postponed, as was
understood by all parties, till the marriage of the queen should
have given promise of an heir to the Spanish throne.
The sagacious Louis Philippe discovered a certain half
idiotic cousin of Isabella of Spain, deficient in every power
both of body and mind; and in a secret and underhand manner, he celebrated the wedding of this miserable being with
the queen; and immediately afterwards that of his son with
the handsome, blooming, and wealthy Maria Louisa, who, in
addition to her present possessions, which wert very large.
carried to her husband the succession to the Spanish crown,
in the absolute impossibility of any issue from her sister's
unhappy marriage.  Good feeling and political opposition
were roused by this degrading trickery-and England learned,
with a sentiment of regret and compassion, that MI. Guizot,
whose talents and character had hitherto commanded her
respect, had been deluded by the crowned tempter at his ear
to defend his conduct on the quibble that the marriages were
not celebrated at the same tim-e-some little interval having
occurred between them-and that this was all he had promised.
Suspicion and jealousy took the place of the former cordial
relations. Losing the fervent friendship of the only constitutional neighbour on whom it could rely, France, like a beggar
with its bonnet in its hand, waited at the gates of Austria
and Russia, and begged the moral support of the most despotic
of the powers. The moral support of Austria and Russia there
was but one way to gain, and that was by an abnegation of all
the principles represented by the accession of Louis Philippe,
and an active co-operation in their policy of repression.
At this time the Swiss broke out into violent efforts to
obtain a reform; and the strange spectacle was presented of




A, D. 1846.]      PUBLIC DISCONTENT.               551
a Pope talking glibly about the rights of men, and proclaiming himself, as some of his boldest predecessors had been, a
protector of the peoples against the tyranny of kings. Austria
quelled the Swiss aspirations with the strong hand, and took
up a menacing attitude towards the weak and benevolent
pontiff, Pius the Ninth. France was quiescent; and the Opposition rose into invectives, which were repeated in harsher
language out of doors. The stout shopkeeper, who now occupied the throne of Henry the Fourth, thought that all the
requirements of a government were fulfilled if it maintained
peace with the neighbouring states. Trade he thought might
flourish though honour and glory were trampled under foot.
He accordingly neglected, or failed to understand, the disaffection of the middle class, whose pecuniary interest he was supposed to represent, but whose higher aspirations he had insulted by his truckling attempts to win the sympathy of
the old aristocracy and the foreign despots. Statesmen like
Thiers and Odillon Barrot, when the scales of office fell from
their eyes, and the blandishments of the sovereign were withdrawn, perceived that the parliamentary government of the
Charter had become a mockery, and that power had got more
firmly consolidated in royal hands under these deceptive forms
than in the time of the legitimate kings. A cry therefore suddenly rose from all quarters, except the benches of the ministry,
for electoral and parliamentary reform; and there was also
heard the uniformly recurring exclamation, premonitory of all
serious disturbance, for a diminution of the taxes.  The cries
were founded in justice, and urged in a constitutional manner.
Corruption had entered into all the elections-parliamentary
purity had become a byword under the skilful manipulation
of the purse-bearing king-and the expenses of the country
far exceeded its income, owing to the extravagant building of
forts and palaces, with which, in the years of his prosperity, he
had endeavoured to amuse the people.
People of all classes had become wearied of so undignified
a reign.  The National Guard, under whose protection the
Charter had been placed, was systematically neglected. Its




552                INSURRECTION.            [A. D. 1848
ranks had become open to the holders of various and hostile
opinions. The nobility, such as it was, which had survived
the Revolution, and had glittered its uneasy day in the antechambers of the restored Bourbons, had never deigned anything but looks of disdain on the Throne of the Barricades.
The populace had kept their irritated minds fixed on the
Reign of Terror and the triumphant days of the guillotine.
It was in this state of feeling that a banquet of opposition
deputies was announced to be heldc in the twelfth arrondissement, the lowest and most excitable portion of the town.
The ministry took the alarm, and prohibited the dinner.
Attempts to enter the tavern were repulsed by force-a crowd
collected —seditious cries were uttered. Some squadrons of
cavalry trotted up the street-a musket or two was discharged; but fresh troops came on, and the riot was at an end.
Louis Philippe thought all danger was over, and congratulated himself on his firmness in preventing the opposition orators
from exhaling a portion of their zeal in eloquence which would
have died in the hour it was uttered, for the press was already
chained. Next day, however, there came out upon the streets
the mysterious and unaccountable multitudes which great
occasions bring to the daylight from the cellars and garrets
of Paris.  Strange-looking, hideous-featured, wildly-dressed
beings, who are never seen in quieter periods, but who appear,
when blood is wanted, like phantoms summoned by magical
incantations on the stage. They swarmed all over the town
-gloomy, dark, unpitying, and there was no one to oppose
them. They erected barricades, and gave utterance to a word
which had not been heard for forty-four years. In a moment
the word was taken up, and " A Republic! " was shouted
at every discharge of musketry, and in answer to every appeal.
A republic was an apparition which struck Louis Philippe
with horror. He ordered the troops to put down the insurrection, but the troops, as in that other revolt which placed him
on the throne, were ill commanded. Doubt and uncertainty
paralysed every force-and still the dreadful cry and infuriated mob came on. He heard them on the outside of the




a.D. 184a.]8          REVOLUTION.                  553
Tuileries, and his heart sank within him. After the vain ceremony of an abdication, he slipt out through the palace garden,
passing the site of Louis the Sixteenth's execution, and shook
the ungrateful city's dust from off his feet. His sons, equally
regardful of their safety, changed clothes with some workmen
near the grounds, and slunk into safe obscurity; while the
widowed Duchess of Orleans, taking her son in her hand,
presented herself, undaunted and calm, before the Chambers
which had assembled to decide on their future course. She
plead the cause of the orphan prince with an eloquence which
was unaffected by the danger of her position; with hundreds
of muskets in the hands of a furious rabble pointed at her
head.  She reminded them of the suppliant's father whom
all men had loved and trusted; and promised them, under
the royalty of her son, the true fulfilment of all the promises
which his grandfather had broken. But a voice was heard
from the tribune, uttering the same words which had broken
the hopes of Charles the Tenth, " It is too late;" and the
Republic took its course. The generous heart of France was
moved equally with pity and admiration of the impassioned
mother, who defended her child's cause so nobly, and with
contempt of the spiritless princes who carried their wealth
and pusillanimity into other lands.
It is not intended in this short sketch to enter on the
events which have occurred since the fall of the Orleans
dynasty. The circumstances are too recent, and the action
still in such rapid progress, that it is not possible to pass a
judgment on the characters or prospects of the momentous
drama. It will be sufficient to say that the shifting canvass
of the last ten years has presented scenes and combinations
never dreamt of before. The despised adventurer, who raised
the pity of his countrymen by his attempt on Strasburg in
1837, and their laughter by his expedition to Boulogne in
1842, has for six years been Emperor of the French by the
elective votes of an overwhelming majority of the nation.
France, under him, has attained a stronger position in Europe
than it has held since the calamities of his uncle began. He




554               LOUIS NAPOLEON.            [A. D. 1848
has persuaded the proudest and most boastful of peoples to
accept protection from the dangers of domestic factions, as
the price of the last vestige of its public or individual freedom.
The elect of the whole nation, and the offspring of a popular
revolution, he has accumulated on. his own head more power
than was acquired by the sword of Philip Augustus, or the
policy of Louis the Fourteenth; and yet his subjects are
more liberty-loving than their mediamval ancestry, and more
intelligent than their predecessors of the Fronde. It is not
for us to foretell what the end of these strange circumstances
will be. We can only watch and be prepared, having no
wish but for the honour and happiness of France.




INDEX.
A.                      Ancients, Council of the, 453-overpowvered
by Napoleon, 476.
A'BECKETT, the  struggle  between, and  Anglo-Saxons, amalgamation of the NorHenry II., 52, 53.                         mans with the, 64.
Abelard, the teachings, &c. of, 54.        Angou.l6me, the duke of, marries the daugh.
Abensberg, battle of, 501.                   ter of Louis XII., 217, 220. See Francis I.
Aboukir, the naval battle of, 470-battle of, Angoul~me, the duke  of, his invasion of
471.                                        Spain, 535.
Absolutism, establishment of, under Louis Angoul6me, the duchess of, 515.
XIV., 350.                                AngoulEme, the acquisition of, by Charles
Acadia, acquired by England, 380.            the Bad, 107.
Acre, the repulse of Napoleon at, 471.      Anjou, the duke of, uncle of Charles VI., 128
Adrets, the Baron des, cruelties of, 269.    -his villanies, 129 —his after career, 130.
Adrian VI., Pope, 230.                      Anjou, the duke of (afterwards Henry III.),
Eduans, the, 16.                             a party to the murder of Cond6, 271 —
Africa, the crusade of Louis IX. to, and his   views of, on the Massacre of St. Bartholodeath, 78 et seq. —the invasion of, by Charles   mew, 275-repulsed before Rochelle, 278V., 241.                                   his accession as Henrv III., 279.  See
Agincourt, battle of, 146.                   Henry III.
Agnadello, battle of, 218.                 Anjou, the duke of, bequest of Spain to. 377.
Agosta, the naval battle of, 360.          Anjou, the counts of, 44 —acquired by the
Aigues Mortes, meeting of Francis I. and   English crown, 51-renounced by Henry
Charles V. at, 242.                        III., 75.
Aiguillon, the duke of, 415.                Alnne, queen, death of, 388.
Aix-la-Chapelle, Charlemagne's court at, 30 Anne of Austria, marriage of, to Louis XIII.,
— peace of, 354.                           310 —supremacy of!iMazarin over, 328 —her
Alberoni, the schemes of, 389.               regency, 329-dissensions with the parliaAlbigenses, the crusade against the, 66.     ments,  382-measures  of, against the
Albret, Henry d', King of Navarre, 239.      Fronde, 333 et seq.-struggle with it, 336.
Alcuin, at the court of Charlemagne, 32.  Anne of Beaujieu, policy, "c. of, 203, 205 —
Alenqon, the duke of, arrested by Louis XI.,   seizure of Brittany, 207.
189.                                      Anne of Brittany, betrothed to Maximilian,
Alenron, the duke of, betrayal of the T-Iu-   206-marries Charles  VIII., 206 —again
guenots by, 278-party headed by, 280-   married to Louis XII., 211-death of, 220.
joins the League, 281-his suit to Eliza- Anne Boleyn, marriage of Ilenry VIII. to,
beth, and death, 283.                      238.
Alexander, the emperor, at Austerlitz, 490- Annessa, the revolt of, at Naples, 331..
peace concluded  at Tilsit, 496 —refuses  Anthony of Bourbon, marriage of, 251, 264-a
peace at IMoscow, 509.                     Huguenot, 265-trial of, 266-death of, 270.
Alexander III., Pope, 54.                  Antwerp, capture of, 1831, 543.
Alexander VI., Pope, 212-his death, 216.    Aquitaine, the dukes of, 35-practical inAlgeria, French conquests in, 545.           dependence of, 38-acquired by the English
Algiers, bombarded by Louis XIV., 365-    crown. 51-cession of, to Edward III., 112.
the French expedition to, 539.           Aragon, king of, centes nl rights in Sicily to
Alibaud, the attemnpt on Louis Philippe by,   France, 89.
545.                                      Archery, encouragement of, by Charles V.,
Allobroges, the, 16.                         123-by Charles VII., 171-discouraged by
Alps, Napoleon's passage of the, 479.        Louis XI., 178.
Alsace, acquired by France, 361.            Arcola, battle of, 467.
Alva, the duke of, 262 —rejoicings of, on the  Arians, persecution of the, by Clovis, 22.
Massacre of St. Bartholomew, 276.         Aristocracy, rise of the, among the Franks,
Alvarez, Don, cdnmands at siege of Gib-   25-commencement of struggle between
raltar, 426.                                the crown and, 39-degraded state of, unAmboise, castle of, 208-the conspiracy of,   der Charles VI., 135-depression of the, by
265 et seq.                                 Louis XI., 199-fall of the, 223.
America, the discovery of, and its effects, Arles, importance of, under the Romans, 18.
226-the revolt of the colonies, and sympa- Armagnac, Bertrand earl of, 144-struggle
thy with them in France, 423.              of, with John of Burgundy, 145-his cru.
Anastasius, the Emperor Clovis made a   elties, 146-dispossessed of Paris, 147.
Roman consul by, 23.                      Armagnac, the count of, murder of, 189.




356                                    INDEX.
Armed Neutrality, the first, 426-the second, Beaufort, the duke of, 333-his pcpularity,
in 1801, 482.                                337-admiral of France, 349.
Army, change in, under Louis XI., 198-dis-  Beaug6, battle of, 154.
sensions in the, 468, 469.                 Beauvais, the bishop of, execution of Joan of
Arques, the battle of, 291.                    Arc by, 162.
Artarvelde, Jacques, 101-Philip van, the  Bedford, the duke of, regent of France, 154-.
overthrow of, 131.                          battle of Verneull, 155-quarrel between,
Artois, surrender of, to Louis XI., 196.       and the Earl of Richemont, 156-resigns
Artois, countess of, at the coronation of   the regency, 161-a party to the execution
Philip V., 97.                              of Joan of Arc, 162-his demands and
Artois the count of, emigrates, 436-his cow-   death, 164.
ardice, 453-expedition of emigrants under, Belgium, amalgamated with France, 467-the
and his cowardice, 463-in France in 1814,   revolution of 1830 in, 543.
514 -his  reactionary views, 534. iSee Belleval, the prosecutor of La Barre, 457.
Charles X.                                 Benedict XI., contest between, and Philip
Arts, the revival of the, 225.                IV., 93-his death, 94.
Aspern, or Essling, battle of, 501.         Benon, the capture of, by Oliver Clisson, 127.
Assignats, the issuing of, 437-the system Of, Beranger, the songs of, 538.
462.                                       Berlin decrees, the, 494.
Aubigny, capitulation of, in Calabria, 208-  Bernadotte, marshal, and afterwards King of
surrender of Frederick of Naples to, 214-    Sweden, 488.
superseded, 215.                           Bernri, the duke of, uncle of Charles VI., 128,
Augustodunum, state of, under the Romans,   140, 142.
18.                                       Berri, the duke of, son of Charles X., 520Auray, capture of Du Gueselin at, 118.        assassination of, 532.
Austerlitz, battle of, 490.                 Berri, the duchess of, her expedition into
Austria, a party to treaty for dismemberment   France, 543.
of Spain,376-gains of )y Peace of Utrecht, Bertha, marriage of Robert I. to, and his di380-war with Frederick the Great, 402-   vorce, 43 et seq.
the Seven Years' War, 410-the partition  Berthier, Neufchatel assigned to, 491-joins
of  Poland,  416-declares war against   Louis XVIII., 519.
France, 439-subjugation of, in Italy, 1796, Bertrand du Guesclin, character, &c. of, 116
466, 467-Peace of Campo Formio  467-    -capture of the Captal de Buch by, 118-:
submission of, after Marengo, 480-Peace   leads the Free Lances against Pedro the
of Luneville, 481-the campaign of Auster-    Cruel, 120-made prisoner by the English,
litz, 490-the campaign of Wagram, 501, et   121-released, 122-reinstates  Ilenry  of
seq.-concludes peace, 503-joins the Allies   Trastamar, ib.-appointed Constable, 124against Napoleon, 511-views of, on the re-   his death, 126.
turn from  Elba, 523-suppression of the  Berwick, the duke of, 389-death of, 397.
revolutions in Italy by, 532.             Biron, the marshal, 297-his treason, 303-his
Avignon, effect of the Pope's residence at,   execution, iSb.
113-menaced by the Free Companies, ib. Blanche of Castile, queen of Louis VIII., 68
-the Free Lances again bought off from,   -her regency, 70-death of, 74.
120-seizure of, by Louis XIV., 348.       Blanche of Navarre, marriage of, to Philip
VI., 105.
Blenheim, battle of, 379.
B.                      Blois, the courts of, 44.
Blois, murder of the Guises at, 2S6.
Bailly, president of the National Assembly, Blucher, battle of Ligny, 525-at Waterloo,
433-execution of, 444.                      528.
Bajazet the Turk, crusade against, and its Boileau, the works of, 383.
overthrow, 138.                           Bologna, the council o;, 165.
Balance of power, first adoption of the theory  Boniface VIII., contest between Philip IV.
of, 216.                                    and, 90, 92-his arrest and death, 92, 93Ballasteros, general, 535.                    process against his memory, 95.
Baltic, battle of the, 482, 483.            Bordeaux, proposed combat between Pedro
Bank of France, the, established by Napo-   of Aragon and Charles of Anjou at, 83leon, 477.                                  captured by Charles VII., 172-revolt of,
Barbarians, the conquest of the Roman em-   under Henry II., 251.
pire by the, 23.                          Borgia, Coesar, 212-imprisonment of, 216.
Barbarossa, ravages of, 243.                Borodino, battle of, 508.
Barclay de Tolly, general, 507.             Boroughs, increase of the, in Fra-ce, 86.
Barras, suppression of revolt of the Sections Borselen, husband of Jacqueli;:c  of Holland,
by, 454-as director, 461-subservience of,   156.
to Napoleon, 475.                         Bossuet, the works of, 385.
Barri, the sieur de, and his wife, 292.     Bouillon, the duke of, a party to the conspirBarri, madame du, her power, &c., 416-exe-   acy of Cinq Mars, 320-joins the Fronde,
cution of, 445.                             335-the duchess, 336.
Barricades, the first, in Paris, 110-day of the, Boulogne, the duke of, 71.
1648, 335.                                Boulogne, Napoleon at, 489, the attempt of
Barrot, Odillon, party headed by, 545.        Louis Napoleon at, 548..
Basle, the council of, 165.                 Bounivet, admiral, 232.
Bastile, capture of the, 434.               Bourbon, Alexander de, execution of,'169.
Batavian Republic, formation ofthe, 452, 481. Bourbon, the Constable de, 231-his treason,
Baudrecourt, the lord of, 159.                ib.-invades France, 232-battle of Pavia.
Bautzen, battle of, 510.                      233-sack of Rome by, and his death, 236.
Bavaria, concludes peace with Napoleon, 481 Bourbon, the cardinal of, proclaimed king,
-joins the alliance against him, 511.        270.
PBayard, the chevalier, 214- death of, 232.    Bourbon, duke of, premier to Louis XV.,
Bayonne, captured by Charles VII., 172.       392-displaced, 393.




INDEX.                                         557
Bourbons, the, in Naples and Spain, 83-en-  Cannon, first employment of, 102.
couraged by the Allies in 1814, 513.        Cape Breton, acquired by England, 405.
Bourdonnais, M. de la, in India, 406-his  Capetian dynasty, accession of the, 37.
fate, ib.                                   Captal de Buch, Free Lances, &c. under, 118
Bourges, council called at, by Charles VII.,   -his capture, ib.
165-its proceedings, ib.                    Carlovingian dynasty, the, 27.
Bovines, victory of Philip Augustus at, 67.   Carnot, character, &c. of, 461, 462-his adBoyne, battle of the, 370.                      ministration, 462-military measures of, 465
Brancas, Villars, 297.                          -displaced from the Directory, 467.
Brez6, the nmarshal de, 182.                  Carrier, atrocities of, at Nantes, 445-execuBrienne, as finance minister, 430.              tion of, 457.
Brittany, the duke of, 71.                    Casal, acquired by France, 364.
Brittany, the duke of, seizure of Oliver Clis-  Castel Rios, the marquis of, 377.
son by, 131-instigates his murder, 133.     Castillon, death of John Talbot at, 172.
Brittany, the duke of, and Louis XI., 186-  Catherine, divorce of Henry VIII. from, 238
joins newleague against Louis XI., 189.    Catherine of France, marriage of Henry V.
Brittany, Francis duke of, discontents of, 204    to, 149.
-his death, 205.                            Catherine de MBedicis, 241-her character,
Brittany, duke of, grandson of Louis XIV.,   247-her cruelties, 265 —becomes regent,
death of, 379.                                267-her falsehood, 269 —system pursued by,
Brittany, the counts of, 35-practical inde-   273-conference with Alva, 274 -marriage
pendence of, 38-contest for duchy of, 1362,   of her daughter to Henry of Navarre, 276118-reconquered from the English, 124-    Massacre of St. Bartholomew, ib.-further
again revolts, 126-submission of, to the    cruelties, 278 —her  policy  toward  the
English, 155 —withdraws from  their ali-   League, 282-her death, 286.
ance, 156-submission of, to Louis XI., 195  Catinat, marshal, 371.
-state of, after the death of l)uke Fran-  Celts or Gaels or Gauls, the, 14.
cis, and marriage of his heiress, 206-ac-  Censorship, established by Napoleon, 477.
quired by Charles VIII., ib.                Cerisolles, battle of, 243.
B3roussel, the arrest of, 334-liberated, 335.    Chabannes, taken prisoner at Pavia, 233.
Bruges, revolt of, against Philip IV., 91.    Chabot, during the Massacre of St. BartholoBrune, marshal, murder of, 529.                 mew, 277.
Brunehild, character and career of, 24-her  Chalons, the Franks at the battle of, 20.
death, 25.                                  Chambers, royalist tendencies of the, 1815,
Brunswick, the duke of, the  invasion of   530-dissolved, ib.
France by, 448.                             Champagne, the counts of, 44 —the duke of,
Buch, the Captal de, see Captal.                71-duchy of, acquired by Philip the HandBuchan, the earl of, at Beaugi6 155-death of,   some, 89.
at Verneuil, 156.                           Chandos, John, capture of Dl Guesclin by,
Buissac, M. de, 256, 258.                       118.
Iluonaparte, Joseph, King of Naples, 491-  Charette, execution of, 463.
King of Spain, 498-abandons  Paris in  Charlemagne, reign of, 28 et seq. —parallel
1814, 514.                                    between Napoleon and, 30-his system of
Buonaparte, Louis, King of Holland, 491.        government, &c., ib.-his coronation by the
Buonaparte, lucien, 475.                        Pope, 31-his death, 32-position of his
Buonaparte, Napoleon, see Napoleon.             descendants, 35.
Buonaparte, Pauline, at Elba, 521.            Charles Martel or the Hammer, defeat of
Buonaparte, family of, banished, 530.           the Saracens by, 26.
Burgesses, first summoned to parliament, 75. Charles the Bald, reign, &c. of, 33 et seq.Burghers, first appearance of, in the French    the battle of Fontenay, 34.
army, 67.                                   Charles the Simple, makes Rollo duke of
Burgundians, the, subjected by Clovis, 20.      Normandy, 36-the latter swears fealty, 37.
Burgundy, Philip duke of, uncle of Charles  Charles IV., accession and reign of, 99 et seq.
VI., 128-his character, &c., 131.  See Charles, the Dauphin, afterwards Charles
Philip, Charles, &c.                          V., 107-measures  during  his father's
Burgundy, duke of, grandson of Louis XIV.,   captivity, 109 —riots in Paris, 111-general
death of, 379.                                anarchy, ib.-refuses the terms made by
Burgundy, the dukes of, 44.                     his father, 112-his accession as Charles
Byng, admiral, 389-execution of, 410.           V. (the Wise), 116-his character, &c., ib.
et seq.-his system of government, 117war with Charles the Bad, ib.-peace conC                          eluded, 118-his increasing popularity, 121
-renewed war with England, 123-names
Caesar, conquest of Gaul by, 15.                D)u Guesclin constable, 124-difficulties of,
Cairo, capture of, by Napoleon, 470.            125-and  death, 126-his character and
Calais, the capture of, by Edward III., 103-   policy, ib.
the English possessions in France reduced  Charles VI., accession of, 128-his character
to, 172-loss of, by the English, 261.         &c., 132-his insanity, 134-marriage of
Calas, the case of, 456.                        his daughter, &c., 137-the trial of the
Calendar, the revolutionary, 460.               Duke of Burgundy, 143-renewal of the
Calonne, as finance minister, 430.              English  wars, and battle of Agincourt,
Calvinists, distinction between, and the Lu-   146 et seq.-treaty of Troyes, 149-positherans, 252.                                 tion of the klingdom, 150-his death, 154.
Cambaceres, as second consul, 476.            Charles, the Dauphin, afterwards Charles
Cambrai, the league of, 218-the peace of, 237.   VII., 148-murder of the Duke of BulrCampo Basso, treachery of, to Charles of   gundy, ib.-treaty of Troyes, 149-repudiBurgundy, 192.                                ates it, ib.-character of, 153, 155 —battle
Campo Formio, peace of, 467.                    of Beangu, 151-his accession as Charles
Camus de Beaulieu, murder of, 157.              VII., 155-battle of Vernenil, ib.-entlry
Canada, subdued  by England, 410.               of, into Paris, 164-the Pragmatic Sanc.




558                                    INDEX.
tion, ib., establishes a  standing army, Charles, brother of Louis XI.,headsthewva.
16 —suppresses  tile insurrection of the    of the Public Good, 179-appoinlted  tc
Praguery, 168 - measures of internal re-    dukedom  of Normandy, 182-treason of,
form, 169 —war with England and Swit-   184-poisoned, 188.
zerland, 170-besieges Metz, 171-measures  Charles of Orleans, 169.
of internal reform, ib.-victories of, over  Charles of Valois, brother of Philip  the
the English, 172-conduct of the Dauphin,    Handsome, 89-influence, &c. of, 97.
173-Agnes Sorel, 174-his death, 175.        Charles Edward, the career of, 405.
Charles VIII., accession and character of, Charolais, count of, see Charles the Rash.
202-state of France, 203-National As- Charter of 1814, the, 516-its conditions, and
sembly, ib.-revolt of Louis of Orleans,   their futility, 518, 520-under Louis Phil&c., 203 et seq.-policy of his sister, 204   ippe, 542.
et seq.-marriage of, 206-invades Italy, Chartier, Alain, 173.
and his repulse, 207-death of, 208, 209.   Chateaubriand, dismissed by Charles X., 537.
Charles IX., accession of, 268-training of, Chateaux, the French, 88.
by his mother, 273-married to Elizabeth  Chatham, the earl of, 410.
of Austria, 274 —Massacre of St. Bartho-  Chatillon, the marshal, overthrow of, 319lomew, 276-his remorse, 277-his death,   the duchess of, 341.
278.                                       Cherbourg, begun by Louis XIV., 364.
Charles X., early character of, 418-acces-  Chivally, true characteristics of, 151.
sion of, 536-increasing reaction, 537-dis-  Chlodoveg or Clodwig, see Clovis.
misses the National Guard, 538-the Polig-  Christianity introduction of, into Gaul, and
nac ministry, 539-the ordinances, 540-the    its effects, 19-adoption of, by Clovis, 21,
revolution of 1830, 541-dethroned, ib.-at   22-conversion of the northern barbarians
Holyrood, ib. See also Artois, count of.     to, 23-abjured in France, 445-re-estabCharles V., the Emperor, character, &c. of,   lished, 481.
229-elected emperor, 229-reception, &c. Church, increasing influence of the, 28 et seq.
of Francis I. by, 234-terms exacted from     -its continued aggressions under the dethe latter, 235-the Holy League against   scendants of Charlemagne, 36-the lower
him, 236-hypocrisy of, on the capture of   classes fostered by it, 39-its  ultimate
Rome, 236, 237-peace of Cambral, 237-    union with the crown, ib.-introduction of
his invasion of Tunis, 241-challenge to   the Truce of God, 44-the struggle of
Francis, ih.-invades France, ib.-disasters    Henry II. of England with it, 53-schism
there, 242-recriminations between him and    and rival Popes, 54-commencement of
Francis, ih.-they meet, ib.-war renewed,   its alliance with the crown, 69-measures
243-jealousy between, and the Pope, 249-    of Philip the Handsome against it, 86 et
war with  Henry II., ib.-concessions to   seq.-its state in the time of Henry VI. of
the Protestants, 250-policy of, toward the    England, 152-ceases to be protector of the
Reformers, 253 —surprised at Innspruck, ib.   poor, 166-policy of Louis XI. regarding
-treaty of Passau, 254-siege of Metz, ib.   it, 178-Henry IV.'s policy toward it, 297
et seq.-his repulse, 255-marriage of his   -effects of the Revolution on it, 455-its
son to Mary of E lgland, 256-his abdica-   former power, 455 —re-established in France,
tiori and death, 259.                        481.
Charles VI., the Emperor, 395-death of, 400.  Churchbuilding, influence of the taste for, 46.
Charles II., of England, sale of Dunkirk by, Church property, confiscation of, by Philip
351-alliance with  Louis  XIV. against   the Handsome, 91.
Holland, 356.                               Cinq Mars, the conspiracy of, and his exeCharles II. of Spain, 351 —illness of, 376-his   cution, 320.
death, 377.                                Cisalpine Gaul, settlement of the Gauls in,
Charles  III., candidate for the Spanish    15-its conquest by Rome, ib.
throne, 389.                                Cisalpine Republic, the, 480.
Charles IV., of Spain, dethronement of, 498.  Clarence, the duke of, slain at Beane6, 154.
Charles the Bad, of Navarre, character, &c. Claude, daughter of Louis XII., 215 —marof, 106-murder of the Constable by, 107-   riage of, 217, 220.
his arrest, ib.-again in arms, 110-besieges  Claude of Savoy, during the Massacre of St.
Paris, 111-the war between, and Charles   Bartholomew, 277.
the WVise, 117- -peace concluded, 118-death  Clement V., election of, 94-his subservience
of, 132.                                     to France, ib.-his death, 96.
Charles the Rash, afterwards duke of Bur- Clement VII., Pope, 125.
goudy, heads the war of the Public Good, Clement, Pope, surrender of, at St Angelo,
180-interview with Louis XI., 181-suc-   236.
ceeds to the dukedom, ib.-visit of Louis  Clement, Jacques, murder of Henry III. by,
XI. to, 185-side taken in the wars of the    288 et seq.
Roses, 186-war with France and truce, Clergy, degradation of the, 54-their de.
187-heads new  coalition  against Louis   mloralisation, 94-their degraded state unXI., 189-surrenders St. Pol to Louis, 190-    der Charles VI., 135-their manners, &c.,
his defeats by the Swiss, and death, 191   under Louis XIV., 327-their state under
et seq. —marriage, &c. of his daughter, 193   Louis XVI.,428-join the Tiers Etat, 433et seq.-posthumous trial of, 197.            apostasy of, during the Revolution, 458.
Charles, the archduke, defeat of Jobrdan by, Clisson, Oliver, 118-character of, 127-im474-at Aspern and Wagram, 501 et seq.        prisonment of, by the Duke of Brittany;
Charles, the Constable, murder of, 107.        131-attempted murder of, 133.
Charles of Anjou, marriage of, 73-acquisi-  Clive, rise and career of, 407.
tion of Naples by, 76, 78-his conquest of Clodwig, see Clovis.
Naples, 82-execution of Conradin, and  Clothaire, the reign of, 24.
Sicilian Vespers, 83-siege of AMessina, and  Clovis, the conquest of Gaul by, 20-his
war with Pedro of Aragon, ib.-his death,   baptism, 22-his policy and successive conib.                                          quests, ib.-death of, 23-his descendants,
Charles of Blois, a competitor for duchy of   ib. et seq.
Brittany, 118-his death, ib.                Clubs, the, closed by:Napoleon, 477.




INDEX.                                     559
Code Napoleon, the, 478.                     Danton, character, &c. of, 440-his execution,
Cceur, Jacques, councillor of Charles VII.,   445.
170-disgrace of, 174-his after career, it.   Dauphin, title of, first given, 105.
Cognac, surrendered to the Huguenots, 274.  Dauphiny, bought by the French crown, 105.
Colbert, character, &c. of, 347.             David Bruce, king of Scotland, 114.
Coligny, the admiral, 265-accused of the  Davoust, created marshal, 488-at Austermurder of Guise, 271-murder of, 276.         litz, 490.
Colonna, Schiarra, arrest of Boniface VIII.  Day of Dupes, the, 317.
by, 93.                                    Declaration of Rights, the American, 423.
Columbus, the discovery of America by, 226. Deputies, dismissal of, by Charles X., 538Commerce, growth of, under Charles VII.,   the new, 540-parties in the, under Louis
170-growth of, in France, 327.               Philippe, 546.
Committee of Public Safety, the, 443.        Desaix, general, 479-his death, 480.
Commons, increasing union between, and the  De Thou, a party to the conspiracy of Cinq
nobility in England, 75.                     Mars, and his execution, 321.
Communes, establishment of, under Louis  Dettingen, battle of, 403.
the Fat, 50-progress  of, under Philip  Diana of Poictiers, 247-dismissed from court,
Augustus, 69-efforts of Philip the HIand-    264.
some against, 85.                          Dieppe, capture and recapture of, 170.
Compiegne, capture of Joi-a of Arc at, 161.  Dijon, victory of Henry IV. at, 297.
Concini, the, the favourites of Mary de Medi-  Directory, constitution, &c. of the,450-comcis, 310-their death, 312.                   position of the, 461-changes in the, 467Cond6, the prince of, 264-a Huguenot, 265-    hostility to Napoleon, ib.-discontent with
at Amboise, ib. —tried, 266-murder of, 271.   the, 474.
CondO, prince of, leader of the nobility under  Domestic life, state of, under Louis XV.,
Louis XIII., 311.                            417.
Cond6, the great, rise of, and his three  Dominic, urges on the crusade against the
victories, 330-battle of Lens, 331-sup-   Albigenses, 66.
ports Mazarin, 336-alleged  attempt to  Douglas, duke of Touraine, death of, 155,156.
assassinate, 337-arrested, 338-released,  Doria, Andrew, defeats the Spanish. fleet,
339-battle of St. Antoine, 341-enters the    232.
service of Spain, 343-struggle with Tu-  Dresden, Napoleon's court at, 1812, 506.
renne, ib.-Franche Comt6 seized by, 353-  Druids, the, among the Gauls, 15-extinction
at the court of Louis XIV., 355-during in-    of their faith, 17.
vasion of Holland, 357-retires from com- Dubois, cardinal, character of, 390-his death,
mand, 359.                                   392.
Conradin, execution of, 82.                  Dugommier, general, at siege of Toulon, 450.
Conscription, influence of the, 497.         Du Guesclin, see Bertrand.
Constance, marriage of Robert I. to, 43.     Dumouriez, general, advocates war, 438-deCoUstance, the council of, and its decision,   feat of the Prussians by, 448-conquers
153.                                         Flanders, ib.-his flight, 449.
Constantinople, the fall of, and diffusion of  Dunkirk, capture of, by the French, 261knowledge by it, 224, 225.                   sale of, by Charles II., 351.
Consulate, the, established in France, 476.   Dunois, the bastard of Orleans, 143 —sucConti, the prince of, a leader of the Fronde,   cesses of, against the English, 163.
336-arrested, 338.                         Dupleix, career of, in India, 406 et seq.Coo.te, Sir Eyre, 407.                         overthrown by Clive, 407-his fate, ib.
Copenhagen, naval battle of, 482, 483.       Dupont, general, the capitulation of, 499.
Corday, Charlotte, assassination of Marat  Du Quesne, admiral, 360-a Protestant, 367.
by, 444-her execution, ib.
Corneille, the works of, 383.
Corsica, subdued by France, 413.                                  E
Courtrai, victory of the Flemings at, 92.
Craon, Peter de, attempt to murder Oliver  Ecclesiastical architecture, influence of the
Clisson by, 133.                            taste for, 46.
Crecy, the battle of, 102-cannon used at, ib.  Eckmuhl, battle of, 501.
Crespy, peace of, 244.                       Economists, doctrines, sc. of the, 422.
Crillon, the duke de, at siege of Gibraltar,  Education, state of, among the aristocracy of
426.                                         Charles VI., 151.
Crown, commencement of its struggle with  Edward I., quarrel between, and Philip the
aristocracy, 39-predominance of the, un-   Handsome, 89.
der Lous IX., 77-increasingpredominance  Edward  II., marriage of, to daughter of
of the, 84.                                  Philip the Handsome, 89-dethronement
Crusades, origin of the, 45-the first, 50-the    and murder of, 100.
second, 51-increase of trade and impover- Edward III., wars of, in France, 100, 101
ishment of the nobility from the, 53-the    et seq.-his claim  to the crown, 100 —his
third, 58-the seventh, 73-the eighth, 78-    victory at Sluys, 102-and Crecy, ib.-crueltheir close, 81-their efifects, ib.          ties of, in France, 103-capture of Calais,
Culloden, the battle of, 405.                  ib.-again invades France, 112-concludes
Cultivated classes, the, of Gaul in the time of    peace, ib. —attempt to enlist him in a new
the Franks, 20.                              crusade, 114-his death, 115.
Cumberland, the duke of, at Fontenoy, 404  Edward iV., the accession of, 186-crown
-at Culloden, 405,                           of France offered to, 1S9-invades it, ib.bought off, 190.
Edward the Black Prince, victory of, at
Poitiers, and his treatment of King  John,
D                         108-restoration of Pedro the Cruel by,
120 et seq. —his subsequent difficulties, 121 —
Damiens, the attempt to assassinate Louis   releases Du Guesclin, 122-his death, 124.
XV. by, 412.                               Egypt, the crusade of Louis IX. to, 74-Na



560                                  INDEX.
poleon's expedition to, 470 et seq.-suc- Female fiefs, existence of, in France, 98.
cesses of the English in, 484.           Ferdinand VII., dethronement of, 499-reElba,:Napoleon sent to, 515 —his return from,   lease of, 512-the revolution of 1820, 532521.                                       restored by the French, 534.
Eleanor, wife of Louis VII., her divorce, Ferdinand of Aragon in Naples, 214-treachand marriage to Henry II. of England,   eries of, 215.
51-her character, &c, 52-effbrts of, for re- Ferdinand of Naples, dethroned by Charles
lease of Richard, 61, 62-her death, 63.    VIII., 207-imprisonment of, 214.
Eleanor of Portugal, marriage of Francis I. Feudal landlords, new regulation of Louis
to, 237.                                   IX. regarding, 75.
Elizabeth of England, accession of, 261- Feudal system, origin and history of the, 40.
support given to Protestantism  by, 269- Feudal tenantry, called out by Louis XIV.,
concurs in the political design of Henry   359.
IV., 305.                                Feudalism, effect of the French parliaments
Elizabeth, empress of Russia, 408.           on, 77.
Elizabeth of Austria, marriage of Charles Feudatories, the great, crushed by Louis XI.,
IX. to, 274.                               198.
Elizabeth of France, marriage of, to Philip  Fiefs, the lapsing of, under the feudal sysof Spain, 261.                             tem, 41.
Elliot, the defence of Gibraltar by, 426.  Fieschi, the conspiracy of, 544.
Emigrants, return of, 468-their return in Finances, state of, under Louis XV., 4131814, 515-their arrogance, &c., ib., 517,   embarrassment of, under Louis XVI., 429.
520.                                     Five Hundred, Council of, 453-Napoleon iln
Emigration, commencement of the, during   the, 475.
Revolution, 436.                          Flanders, practical independence of, 38Enghien, the duke d', murder of, 486.        count of, joins league against Philip AuEngland, former prejudice and present feel-   gustus, 66-acquisition of, by Philip the
ing regarding France in, 10 et seq.-the Nor-   Handsome, 89-revolt of, against Philip
mall Conquest of, 48-effects of the loss of   IV., 91-peace concluded, 92-alliance of
Normandy on, 63 et seq.-parallel between   Edward III. with, 101-the states of, and
state of, and France, 136-state of parlia-   Mary of Burgundy, 195-overrun by Louis
ment, 137-renewal of the French wars,   XIV., 351, 352.
145 et seq.-treaty of Troyes, 149-state of, Fleurus, battle of, 371.
under Henry VI., 164-treaty with, 170-  Fleury, cardinal, the ministry of, 393-sup
losses of, in France, 172-feeling in, on the   ports Stanislaus, 396-coalition against lMamassacre of St. Bartholomew, 277-and on   ria Theresa, 402.
the murder of Henry III., 290-union of, Flotte, Peter, minister of Philip IV., 94.
with Scotland, 304-joins alliance against Fontainebleau, Napoleon and the Guard at.
Louis XIV., 353-the Revolution in, 369-   515.
the IWar of the Succession, 378 et seq.-Peace Fontenay, the battle of, between the grandof Utrecht, 380-war with Spain, 1718, 389   sons of Charlemagne, 33, 34.
-ministry of WValpole, 396, 397-takes part Fontenoy, battle of, 403 et seq.
with Mlaria Theresa, 402-the rebellion of Fornova, victory of Charles VIII. at, 208.
1745, 405-naval successes, ib.-conquests  Fouch6, minister of police, 530.
in India, 406-successes of, in Seven Years' Fouquet, intendant of finances, disgrace of,
War, 410-the revolt of the American colo-   346.
nies, 423-war with France, 424-independ- France, former prejudice and present feeling
ence of the United States, 427-the gradual   in England regarding, 10 et seq.-her naturise of freedom in, 460-proposed invasion    ral boundaries, extent, &c., 12 et seq.of, 1798, 469-supremacy of, at sea, 483-    unity of language, population, &c., 14-efPeace of Amiens, 483 —war renewed, 484-    fects of acquisition of Normandy on, 64arrest of the English in France, 485-hos-    Napoleon's campaign of 1814 in, 512 et seq.
tilitybetween Napoleon and, 487-intended  Franks, the, the conquest of Gaul by, 19invasion, 489-subsidies, &c. from, 1806,  their position there, 21-adoption of Chris492-the Berlin  decrees, 494-continued   tianity by, 23 —position of, in the time of
hostility of, 505-views of, at Congress of   Charlemagne, 29-gradual amalgamation
Vienna, 519-and on the return from Elba,   with the conquered, 38.
523-rejoicings in, on Waterloo, 527-feel- Franche ComtO, seizure of, by Louis XIV., 853
ilg in, on N avarino, 539-alienation of,  — annexed to France, 358.
from Louis Philippe, 547 et seq.         Francis I., epigram on Agnes Sorel by, 175English, cruelties of the, in France, 103-    accession and character of, 227-change of
arrest of the, by Napoleon, in France, 485.   policy under, 228-concordat with Pope, ib.
Enguerrand de Coucy, 114.                    -rivalry with Charles V., 229-the Field of
Essling or Aspern, battle of, 501.           the Cloth-of-Gold, 280-invades Italy, 233Eugene, prince, victories of, 378 et seq.    battle of Pavia, ib.-taken prisoner, 234-his
Eugene Beauharnais made viceroy of Italy,   confinement in Spain, ib.-his liberation,
484-502.                                   and terms exacted from him, 235 —the Itoly
Eugenius IV., council summoned at Bologna   League, 236-war again breaks out, ib.by, 165-the council of Bourges, 166.       Peace of Cambral, 2837-married to Eleanor
Europe, Liberal excitement in, 1818, &c., 532.   of Portugal, /b.-his position with regard to
Excommunication, influence, &c. of, 43.      Henry VIII., 238, 239 —his attitude towards
Eylau, the battle of, 495.                   the Protestants, 240-persecutes them, ib.challenged by Charles V., 241-death of his
son, and invasion of France, ib. —recrihniF                        nations between him and Charles V., 242they meet at Aigues MIortes, ib.-duped by
Family compact, the, 411.                    Charles, 243-war renewed, ib.-his death,
Famine, prevalence of, in the 10th century,   244-his influence. 245-his character, lb.
42.                                       Francis II., betrothal of Mary of Scotland to,
Felix V. pope, 166.                          252-married to MIary of Scotland, 261 —lhii




INDEX.                                       561
accession, 263-the conspiracy of Amboise,  Gonsalvo, the Great Captain, 214-conquers
265-his death, 266.                            Naples, 215-seizure of Caesar Borgia by, 216.
Francis, the dauphin, son of Francis I., death  Got, Bernard de, elected Pope, 94.
of, 241.                                     Goths, the, in  Gaul, 20-expelled  by the
Francis, husband of Maria Theresa, elected    Franks, ib.
emperor, 40S.                                Gourdon, Bertrand de, death of Richard I. by
Francis II., the emperor, flight of. from Vienna,   the hand of, 62.
490-at Austerlitz, i. —peace, ib.            Granson, the battle of, 191.
Fredegonde, career and character of, 24-her  Grasse, the count de, his defeat by Rodney, 426.
death, 25.                                   Greece, the incursions of the Gauls into, 141Frederick, the emperor, negotiations with   the revolt of, 532.
Charles the Rash regarding Mary of Bur-  Gregory V. compels the divorce of his wife by
gundy, 193.                                    Robert I., 43.
Frederick the Great, accession of, 401-war  Gregory VII., see Itildebrand.
with Austria, 402-Silesia retained by, 408-  Gregory XI., pope, 125.
the Seven Years' War, 411.                    Gregory of Tours, the historian, 24.
Frederick of Naples, dethronement of, 214.    Grenoble, Napoleon at, 1815, 522.
Frederick Augustus, elector of Saxony, 395.    Grouchy, movements of, 1815, 526.
Free Companies or Lances, rise of the, 111-   Guienne, restored to England, 75-seizure of,
measures against the, 112, 113-ravages of    by Philip the -Iandsome, 89-its restitution,
the, 119-lead by Bertrand du Guesclin into   ib.
Spain, 120-bought off by the Pope, ib.       Guinegate, battle of, 197-the battle of the
Free inquiry, commencement of, with Abelard,    Spurs at, 220.
54.                                          Guise, Francis duke of, 247 —defence of Metz
Freedom, identified with Protestantism, 304-    by, 254-captures Calais, 261-influence of,
gradual rise of, in England, 460.              2t64-alliance of, with Montmorency, &c., 268
Friburg, the battle of, 330.                     -massacre of 1iuguenots at Vassy by, 269Friedland, the battle of, 496.                   his murder, 271.
Fronde and Frondeurs, origin of the, 233-   Guise, Henry duke of (Balafr6) murder of Comeasures of the court against, 834 et seq.-    ligny by, 276-conspiracy to raise him to the
wars of the, 336 et seq.-its leaders arrested,    crown, 281-his influence, 2S2-policy of, to338.                                            ward the crown, 284-his entry into Paris,
&c., 285-his murder, 286.
Guise, Henry, duke of, son of Balafr6, 292G                           inmade governor of Provence, 297.
Guise, the duke of, invited to Naples, 330Gabelle, the, first imposed by Philip VI., 103.    taken prisoner, 331.
Gaels or Gauls, the, 14.                        Guises, influence of the, 264-persecutions
Galigai, Eleanora, 310-her death, 312.           by them, 265 —conspiracy of Amboise, ib.Galissonniere, admiral. defeat of Byng by, 410.   attempt to introduce the Inquisition, ib.Gallia or Gaul, original settlement of, &e., 14-  oppose calling the States General, 266.
its conquest by the Romans, 1.5-state of, Guizot, party headed by, 546-becomes preunder the Romans, 16 et seq. —introducti on    mier, 547-the Spanish marriages, &c., 550,
and effects of Christianity, 19-its conquest   551.
by the Franks, ib., 20-state of society at  Gustavus Adolphus, alliance of Richelieu with,
this time, 21 et seq.                          316.
Gallia Cisalpina, conquest of, by Rome, 15.    Guy, count of Flanders, arrest of, by Philip
Gallo-Roman, position of the, in the time of    the Handsome, 89.
Charlemagne, 29.
Garter, order of the, 185.
Gaston de Foix, the career of, 219.                                  I
Gaston, brother of Louis XIII., 617, 318-a
party to the conspiracy of Cinq Mars, 320- I-Iam, the imprisonment of Louis Napoleon at,
intrigues of, 340-exiled, 343.                 5 8.
Gaucour de Giresme, 158.                        handel's Dettingen Te Deum, 403.
Gaul, see Gallia.                              Hanover, seizure of, by Prussia, 492.
Gauls or Gaels, the, 14.                       Hardy, admiral, 425.
Gay Science, the, 55.                          Hlauteroche, the count of, at Fontenoy, 403.
Gaza, Napoleon's capture of, 471-the massacre,  Hay, Lord Charles, at Fontenoy, 403.
472.                                          I-lelvetic Republic, the, 4S1.
George II., victor at Dettingen, 403.          Henry II., accession of, 246-his character and
George III., accession of, 411.                   court, 247-persecution of the Protestants,
George of Aruboise, councillor of Louis XII.,   24S-quarrels with the emperor, 249-policy
21S.                                            of, toward  the  Reformers, 253-captures
Germany, progress of Protestantism in, 238-    Metz, &c., 204-attempts to introduce the
feeling in, on the murder of Henry III., 290    Inquisition, 257-immorality  of the time,
-campaign of 1796 in, 465.                      25S-war with Spain, 260-capture of Calais,
Ghent, suppression of the insurrection of, 131.    &c., 261 —dath of, 262.
Giac, the seigneur de, 157.                     IIenry III., accession and character of, 279Gibraltar, capture of, by England, 379-the    joins the league, 2S0-joins Henry of Nasiege of, 425 et seq.                           varre, 283-murder of Guise by, 2S6-allianco
Girondists, fall of the, 443.                    -with ltenry of Nxavarre, 27-S-his murder,
Givry, an adherent of Henry IV., 290.             2SS. uSee also Anjou, duke of
Gloster, duke of, uncle of Richard II., 136 —  Henry  of Navarre, afterwards I-Ienry IV.,.
appointed reg-ent of England, 154-quarrel    heads the Huguenots, 274 —marriage of, to
between, and.Burgundy, 156-murder of,   MIargaret, 275-at the Massacre of St. Bar —
171.                                            tholomnew, 276-escape and revolt of, 280Golden Fleece, order of the, 185.                joined by the king, 2S3 —policy of, toward:
Gondi, see Retz.                                 the crown, 2S4 —victories, 6&c., of, 2S4, 285



562                                       INDEX.
alliance with the king, 2S7 — declared by  Hugh Capet, accession of, 37 —his position.
IIenry  III. his successor, 2S9-conditions    38-st ate of society, 41.
with the Leatue, 2930-victory of Ivry, 291-  Huguenots, the, progress  of, in  France,
influence of his savings,  &c., ib. et seq.-    263 —chlr acter,   &c. of, 267 —position  of,
reviving  fortunes of, 294 —adopts Catholi-   1560, 260-terml s granted by treaty of St.
cism, ib.-his coronation, 295 —unanimnit in    Germnain, 274 —the Massacre of St. Barhis favoi r, 296-his policy tosward his oppo-   tllolomeew, 276 —rising  of, in  reign  of
nents, 29 —attempt on his life, ib.-punish-    Louis XIII., 313.
iment oI lIayenne, 298-Edict of Nantes,  Hluman sacrifices prohibited by the Romans
299 —internal  measures of, 299, 800 et seq.-    il Gaul, 17.
marries'iMary de Medicis, t01 —his "political  Hungary, reception  of fMaria Theresa in,
desiln," o30 —designs of, regardling the bal-   402.
ance of power, 305o — ar  breaks out, 806-  Huss, John, martyrdom of, 153.
his murder, sO7.
I-Ienry I. of England, accession of, 45 —his death,
47 —difficulties of Louis VI. with. 50.
Henry II., marriage of, to Eleanor, 51-contest
betveen' hii and Louis VII., 52-hisstrsugcle  India, struggle of France and England in,
with A'Beckett, &c., ib. —measures of Philip    405-views of Napoleon on, 470.
Aug tistus against, 56.                       Infantry, value of, seen by Louis XI., 198.
ITenry Ill., accession of, 69-marriage of, 72-   Ilferior, position of the, in the feudal systreaty between, and Iouis IN.,7 5-the re-    tem, 41.
bellion of Simon de Montfort against, ib.    ILnfernal Machine, attempt on Napoleon by,
Henry IV., takes part in the French internal   480-and on Louis Philippe, 544.
struggles, 145-his death, ib.                 Innocenit III., Pope, crusade  against the
Hery'V., accession of, and invasion of France,    Alligenses  by, 66-absolves  Johi. with
146 —bttle of Aincourt, ib. —returns to EnS-    regard to Magna Charta, 68.
land, 147-captures Rouen, ib.-terms de-  Innocent, Pope, rejoicings of, on the MIas.
mnanded by, 147-Treaty of Troyes, 149-  sacre of St. Bartholomew, 276.
battle of  e, 14-deats of, i              Innocent X.ea, Pope, 340.
IIenry VI., birth of, 154-pusillalni mity of, 170  Iisocent SI., iisulted by Louis XIV., 366.
-married to Margaret of Anjou, ib. —the de-  Inqlisitioi, resistalce  to  tlle, in  France,
thronesleit of, l&-(if.                        257-attempt to introdulce it, 265, 266.
loenry V.11, assistance given by Fiance  to  Intellect,  embodiment  of, in  the  early
205.                                            church, 29.
Ilenry VII. joins the league against Louis XII.,  Iltelligesce, increase of, with the Crusades,
219-marriaege   of the latter to his sister, 220    50.
-a candidate for the imperial crown, 229-  lterdlit, the papal, its power, 43.
at the Fieli of the Cloth-of-Gold, 230 —visit  Invalides, reinterment of Napoleon in the,
of Charles V. to, b.-Joinis league against    548.
I1icis I., 230-senounces popery, 26:38-in-  Irestsmus, introduction  of Christianity into
vades France, 243.                              Gaul by, 19.
I-lenry VI., the  emperor, imprisonment of  Isabella, queen  of   devhrd  II., claim  of
Richard I. by, 61-trial and acquittal of the    Edvard  III. to the French crown through,
latster, s.                                     99 —her imprisonmeant, 100.
Iienlry of Bolingbroke, the revolt of, 169-his  Isabella of Bavaria, mariage of Charles VI.
accession asid reign, 140. See sIIely IV.       to, and her character, 131-as queen  of
Henlry of Trastalnar, Du Guesclin takes up the    ChAlLres VI., 141-jois B1urgunHdy, 144cause of, 120-placed on the throne, ib. —ex-    entry of, into Paris, 147 —visits  Hellry V.,
pelled by Edward the Black Prince, 121-    14s
replaced OIl the throne, 122.                 IIsabella of France, married to Richard II.
HIenlrietta of Orleans, 33 —her death, 356.       137.
Henriot, Pobespierre takes refuge with, 446.    Ital, the settlement o       e Gaols i, 15er y  ise of, 1.   coronation  of  Charslemagne  avith  the
Ileldtics, cornienement of persecution of,  3..                31 —invasion  of, by  Charles
retison, oth   en oath of the,          of,01.  55 VII., aldcl  his repulse, 207 —designs of
Ileron, the oath of theuis X. on, 214.rvwl of to ers
Higher  classes, the, in Gaul at the Frankish        is  SII.  on, 224-vevival  of the aFts
issvasion 23)                                   in, 225 —invaded  by  Francis  I., 228 —
tildlebrand, accession of, as pope, 49-his de-    agein, 232-again over us by sel o Frenh,
cigus, -cz., sib.~ 237. —their  retreat, ib. —surrendered  by
iocse  teiaucseo,46dfamft he                    lem, ib. —canpaign of 1796 in, 465-of
Roche, general, successes of, 450 —defeat of the    199 in, 47 —Napoleon crowned Iing of,
emigrants at Quiberon by, 453.                  487.
1Hohenlinden, battle of, 41.                    Ivy, battle of, 291.
Holland joins alliance against Louis XIV., 53    ry  attle of, 291.
— war between them, 356 et seq. —the Peace
of sNilegruen, 861-the War of the Succession, 379-Peace  of Utrecht, 3S0 —Louis
Beulonafte  ade 543king of, 491-the revolt of Jacqueline of Holland, struggle for the hand
Belgium  from, 543.                             of 136 ci seq.
Idly Ltand, colesmencement of pilgrimages to, Jacquerie, inlsurrection of the, in the reign
4 —these   increasing, 47. 
-Ioly League, the so-callecd, 261-dissolved, 2S2. JJaffa, the poisoning of the sick at, 472, 473.
Ifondshoot, battle of, 4.50.                    James I., character of, 308, 313.
IHospital, Michlel de l', opposes the introduction    s II., efforts oft
of theIsnqoisition, 266.                     Jaames IL, effrts of, to establish popery, 368
of tucherd, isitioner,.                     -his dethronement, 369.
Howchard, generfl, 450.                        James III, acknowledg'ed by Louis XIV.,
Howe, loidc, relief of Gibraltar by, 427.'078-the invasion of E;iglald bZ, 388.
Hudson's Bay territories, acquired by England,
In80.on's    yterritorics, cqred by Egland,  James I. of Scotland, imprisonlllent of, by
He. nry V., 154.




INDEX.                                      563
James of MIajorca, sale of Mlontpellier to                         L
France by, 105.
Jane, queen of Philip V., 97.                 La Balue, cardinal, career and fate of, 182.
Jane, daughter of Louis XI., marriage of, La Barre, the case of, 451.
to the Duke of Orleans, and her divorce,  La Charite, surrender to the H-Iuguenots;
211 —her death, 212.                          274.
Jane d'Albret, marriage of, 251-a EIugue-  La Clhatelgneraie, duel between Jarnac and.
not, 265.                                     247, 248.
Jansenists, the attempt to suppress the, 408.  Lacretelle, dismissal of, from office, 538.
Jarnac, the duel of, with La Chateigneraie,  Ladies' Peace, the, 237,
247, 248.                                   La Fayette, a French leader, 158.
Jarnac, the battle of, 271.                   Lafay ette, the Mlarquis de, ill America, 429
Jenmappes, victory of the French at, 448.       -in the Staites General, 433-on the 10th
Jena, the campaign of, 492.                     August, 439-his flight, 440-during  the
Jerome of Prague, martyrdom of, 153.            revolution of 1830, 541.
Jerusalem, origin and commencement of  La Fontaine, the  works of, 395.
pilgrimages to, 45 —their increase, 47.     La Iire, a leader of Free Companies, 158.
Jesuits, the, denounced in France, 257-ex-  La Hogue, battle of, 371.
puleion and recall of, 289 —expelled, 412  La:ll, count de, career and fate of, 407.
— return under Charles X., 537.             La Mlarche,  thle count of, 71-subjugation
Jews, persecution of the, by Philip Augus-   of. 72.
tus and Richard I., 57 —increasing persecu-  Language, unity of, as a nat.onal bond, 14.
tions of the, 98.                           Lannes, general, 479 —created marshal, 488Joan of Arc, career of, 159 et seq.-her cap-   at Austerlitz, 490.
ture anid execution, 162.                   Lannoy, viceroy of ZNaples, 233 —surrender
Joanna of  aples, adoption of the Duke of    of Francis I. at Pavia to, 234.
Anjou by, ancd her death, 130.              Landshut, battle of, 501.
Joly, a Frondist, 337.                        Lautrec, defeat of, in Italy, 230-recaptur6
John II., accession and character of, 105-    of Il-ome, capture of Naples, &c. by, 237arrest of Char]es the Bad, 107 —his defeat   his death, ib.
and capture at Po;tiers, 108 —his captivity,  Lavardin, the Marquis de, 366.
109-terms made by, which are refused by  La Vendee, district of, 435-the revolt in,
the country, 112-peace concluded, ib.-re-    449-pacification  of, 4683-revolt against
turins into captivity in place of his son, 114    Louis Philippe in, 543.
-his death, 115.                            Law of Lauriston and the MBississippi scheme,
John, accession  and reign of, in England,   390 et seq.
63-loss of Normandy by, ib.-the sign-  Laws, rise of, under Louis IX., 76 —growving
ing of Magna Charta, 64-joins league    supremacy of, in Enlgland, 137.
against Philip Augustus, 67 —his flight,  Lawyers, increasing power of the, in France,
ib. —rebellion  of  his  barons,  68-his   84, 85.
deat'-, 69.                                 Learning, state of, in Gaul t under the RoJohn XXII., Pope, persecution of the Jews    omans, 16 -measures of Charlemagne to en)and lepers by, 98.                            courage, 32.
John of Conflalns, mnurder of, 111.           Lebrun, as third consul, 476.
John of;Gaun-it, abllbitionl of, 136.        Legalissn, supremacy of, in France, 96.
John  de Moontfort, conducts the crusade  Legionl of Hlonour istituted, 488.
affcialst the Albigenses, 66.               Legrislative Asseembly, dethronemlent of Louis
John de Nevers, or the Fearless, 139 —his    XVI. by the, 440.
accession  to Burgundy, 140-seizes the  Leipsic, battle of, 571.
French regency, ib. —murder of the Duke  Lens, battle of, 331.
of Orleans, 142 —his trial, ib.-inereasilg  Leo X., conicordat betaween Francis I. and,
influence of, 144-struggle of, with the    228, 229 —his deaoth, 232.
Arm-gnacs, and aided by the Ei;4lish,  Leopold of Austria aiid Richard Cceur-del4i-his cruelties, 146-entry of, into Paris,    Lioi, 59 —imprisonmelnt of the latter by, 61.
147-alliance  with  Henry  V., 148-his   Leopold, the empesror, 351.
mnurdler, ib.                               Leopold, becomes King of Belgium, 543.
John G0-leaz, duke of Milan, alliance of, awith  Lepanto, the battle of, 274.
John II., 112, 113.                         Le!pers, persecution of, 98.
Joinville, the prince de, 548, 549.           Leproseries, establishmne!t of, 99.
Jfoseph, the emperor, death of, 379.         Leprosy, prevalenlce of, 98.
Josephine, the empress, her character, &c., Liberalism,  identified with  Protestantism
462 —the divorce of, 503.                     in France, 263.
Jourdan, general, 450-defeated by the Arch-  Libraries, formation of, after invention of
duke Charles, 474.                            printilne, 224.
Judges, declatred irremovable, 197.           Liege, revolt of, against Charles the Rash,
Julius II., Pope, intrigues, &c., of, 216-.ld its suppression, 183-bombardinent of,
intrigues of, againist Louis XII., 218-    by Louis XIV., 371.
joins the league of Cambrai, ib.-deserts  Ligny, battle of, 525.
it, ib.                                     Ligurianll Republic, the. 480.
Lille, fortification of, by Vaiul)an, 352.
Limoges, death of Richard I. before, 62.
K                        Limousin, restored in England,  75.
Literature, state of, u!nder Louis XIV., 383
Karl, see Charles Miartel.                      -character of, ulder Louis XV., 394.
Kellerman, successes of, 450 —created mar  Lochles, imnprisolment of La Balue at, 184.
shal, 488.                                  Lodi, battle of bridge of, 466.
King, position of the, in the feudal system,  Lolsmbards, the, cotluest of, by Charlemagonq
40. 41.                                       30, 32.
Kleber; general, in Egypt, 475.               Lolguenville, the duke of, irrested, 338.
Loingueville, the duchess of, 336.




564                                   INDEX.
Longjumeau, the peace of, 271.                314-the Day of Dupes, 317-his character,
Lorraine, the cardinal of, his influence, 264    &c., 318-his death, 323.
-his murder, 286.                         Louis XIV., accession  of, 324-state of
Lorraine, government of, by Stanislaus, 398.   France, ib.-the nobility, 325-wealth of
Losowitz, battle of, 410.                     the country, 327-the Mazarin ministry,
Lothaire, son of Louis the Debonnaire, 33    328 et seq.-hatred of, to AMazarin &c., 336et seq.-the battle of Fontenay, 34-his    marriage of, to Maria Theresa of Spain,
defeat and subsequent career, 35.           345-his supremacy after Mazarin's death,
Louis the Debonnaire, reign and character    346-appointment of Colbert, 347-his enof, 32-parallel between, and Louis IX., 79    croachnments, 348-his generals, 349-adulaet seq.                                     tion of his courtiers, 350-alliance with
Louis, son of Louis the Debonnaire, 33 et seq.   England, ib.-claims Flanders and prepares
-the battle of Fontenay, 34.                for  war, 351-overruns  it, 352-seizes
Louis VI. (the Fat), accession of, 50-his    Franche Comte, 353-Peace of Aix-la-Chacharacter &c., ib.                          pelle, 354-building of Versailles, ib.-taste,
Louis VII. (the Young), reign of, 51 —divorce    &c., under him, 355 —war with HIolland,
of his wife, and her marriage to Henry II.   356 et seq.-coalition against him, 358 et
of England, ib. —struggle between them, 52   seq.-jealousy of his brother, 360-peace of
-his death, 53.                             Nimeguen, 361-his power, 362-called the
Louis, son of Philip Augustus, the crown    Great, 363-his overbearing conduct, 364of England offered to, 68-his defeat, 69    bombards Algiers, 365-the Pope insulted,
-his accession as Louis VIII., 70-his   366-revocation of Edict of Nantes, 367crusade against the provengals, and death,   his marriage to Madame de Maintenon, 368
ib.                                         -the revolution in England, 369-war with
Louis IX., accession and character of, 70-    the Emperor and Duke of Savoy, 371marriage of, 72-and of his brother, 73-    Peace of Ryswick, 374-private life of, 375
departs on the seventh crusade, ib-his    -origin of theWVar of the Succession, 376
capture  and  ransom, 74-treaty  with    et seq.-domestic losses, 379-Peace of
Henry III., 75-establishes parliaments,   Utrecht, 380-last illness and death, 382
76-growing supremacy of the crown, 77   et seq.-characteristics of his age, ib. et
-his crusade to Africa, 78-and death   seq.
79-resemblance to Louis the Debonnaire,  Louis XV., accession &c. of, 392-marriage
ib.                                         of, 393-ministry of Fleury, ib. et seq.Louis X. (the Quarrelsomle), reign of, 97.    his character, 399 et seq.-at Fontenoy,
Louis, the dauphin, afterwards Louis XI.,   404-overruns Flanders, 405-colonies lost,
165-in rebellion, 168-invasion of Swit-   405-debaucheries, &c. of, 408 —loses of,
zerland by, 170-character, &c. of, 173,   in Seven Years' War, 410 —Damien's at-his conduct to his father, 174-his ac-   tempt on, 412-expulsion of the Jesuits, ib.
cession, 176, 177-his views and policy,   — Madame dn Barri, itb.-domestic losses,
178-submission to the Pope, ib.-archery    ib.-his last years, 414-quarrel with the
discouraged, 179-receives the title of the    parliaments, ib. et seq.-his private life, 416
Most Christian King. 178-the War of the    -his death, 417.
Public Good, 179 —his triumph, 180-his  Louis XVI., accession and character of, 418
manners, ib.-his treatment of the nobility,   -marriage of, ib.-coronation, &c., 419181-Cardinal la Balue, 182-his visit to    war with England, 423, 424-his position
Charles the Rash, and danger, 183-re-   in  it, 424-reactionary  policy, 428-the
ception in Paris, 184-institutes Order of   finances, 429-the Notables, 430 —the States
St. Michael, 185-side taken in the WVars    General, ib.-attempted violence of, against
of the Roses, 186-war with Burgundy,   the States General, 433-concessions of,
187-league against him, ib.-measures    434-the Bastile taken, 435-his departure
of revenge, 188 et seq.-new coalition and    from Versailles, 437-flight and capture
English invasion, 189-execution of St.   438 —accepts the constitution, it.-the 10th
Pol,  190-death  of  Burgundy,  191-    of AuLgust, 439-dethroned, 440-trial and
difficulties regarding the Swiss, 192-in-    execution, 441.
trigues regarding Mlary of Burgundy, 194  Louis XVII., death of, 452.
-submission of Brittany, 196-execution  Louis XVIII., early character of, 418-reof Nemours, 197 —war with _Maximilian,   cognized by the continental powers, 452197-new organization of his army, 198-    restoration of, 514-the charter, 516-Talhis policy in depressing the nobles, ib.-    leyrand minister, 518-his habits, &c., 52C
firanchises to the towns, 200-his death,   -his flight on the return from Elba, 523201-his reign the close of the middle   the second restoration, 528-his difficulties,
ages, ib.                                   529-execution of:Ney, ib.-increasing reacLouis of Orleans, afterwards Louis XII., re-   tion, 530 —restrictions on liberty, 532-the
bellion of, 204-his defeat and capture, 205   invasion of Spain, 534-the Villile ministry,
-accession of, 209-his character, ib. et seq.   535-his death, 536.
— his divorce, and marriage to Anne of Louis of AInjOU, son of John II., 114.
Brittany, 211-measures of administration,  Louis Napoleon, the attempt of, at Stras
212 —claims Naples and Milan, 214-con-    burg, 545-and at Boulogne, 548-as emquels Naples, ib.-expelled from it, 215-    peror, 553.
engagements with Ferdinand of Spain, ib.  Louis Philippe, at Valmy and Jemappes,
— breaks off these, and marries his daughter   448-his flight, 449-accession of, 541 —new
to the duke d'Angouleme, 217-joins the    laws, 542-his prosperity, 543 —attempts on
league of Cambrai, 218-measures of Ju-   his life, &c., 544-the laws of September,
lius II. against him, 219-treaty concluded,   ib.-conquests in Algeria, 545-attempts
220-death of Anne of Brittany, and mar-   on his life, ib.-attempt of Louis Napoleon,
rinae to sister of Tlenry VIII., ib.-his   ib.-his  selfishness, 546-Paris fortified,
detith, 221-his opinion of Francis I., 227.  547-Guizot premier, ib.-second attempt
Lotis XIII., accession and character of, 308    of Louis Napoleon, 548-removal of Napo-r-nries Annte of Austria, 310-death of   leon's rernainis, &c., ib.-death of the Dukol
the Concini, 312 —promlotion of Richelieu,   of Orleans, 549-the Spanish marriages




INDEX.                                      565
550-leans to the despotic powers, ih.-gen- Marie Antoinette, marriage of, to Loui s XVI..
eral discontent, 551-insurrection, 5652-his   418-execution of, 444.
overthrow and flight, 553.                 Marillac, fall of, before Richelieu, 316, 317Louvel, chancellor of Charles VII., 157.       his brother executed, 317.
Louvois, war-minister to Louis XIV., 349-  Marlborough, the duke of, his victories, 378.
death of, 373.                             Marmont, marshal, during the revolution ol
Lower classes, neglected by the higher, and    1830, 540.
fostered by the Church, 39.                 MIarot, the hymns of, 265.
Ludovic, duke of Milan, 208.                 Marseilles, state of, under the Romans, 17Luneville, peace of, 481.                      besieged by the Constable Bourbon, 232Lutherans, distinction between, and the Cal-   surrender of, to HIenry IV., 298.
vinists, 252.                               Martignac ministry, the, 539.
Lutzen, battle of, 510.                      Martin V., Pope, elevation of, 153 —and the
Luxemburg, marshal, during invasion of   Council of Basle, 165.
Holland, 356-defeated  by William  of Mlartinet, general, 356.
Orange, 361-the battle of Fleurus, 371-  Mary of Burgundy, intrigues for hand of, 193
his death, 373.                               et seq.-her marriage, 195-death of, 205.
Luynes, Albert de, 311-the favourite of Mary de Medicis, marriage of Henry IV. to,
Louis XIII., 313-his death, 314.              301-character of, and influence on her son,
Lyons, importance of, under the Romans, 18   308-her subjection to the Concini, 310-her
-Christianity first preached in, 19.         banishment, 312-returns to court, 314exiled, 317-her death, 319.
Mary of EnLgland, married to Philip of Spain,
HI                         256-dies, 261.
]Mary of Scotland, betrothal of, to the dauphin,
]Macdonald, general, defeated at the Trebbia,   252-their marriage, 262-execution of, and
474.                                          its influence, 284.
adclras captured by the French, 406.         ~Mary, sister of Henry VIII., married  to
MIadrid, the massacre of, 499-entry of Napo-   Louis XII., 220.
leon into, ib.                              Masaniello, the insurrection of, 330.
TMIagna Charta, the, 64,                      MIassena, created marshal, 481.
Maine, renounced by Henry III., 75,           Maupeou, the chancellor, 415.
Maine, duke of, natural son of Louis XIV.,382. MIaurepas, minister of Louis XVI., 419.
Muaintenon,  madame de, marriage of Louis  Maurice of Saxony, surprise of the Emperor
XIV. to, 368-increasing influence of, 375    Charles by, 253.
-hatred of, to Bossuet, 385.                Maximilian, marriage of, to hMary of BurMajesty, title of, first conferred, 178.        gundy, 196-declares war against France,
M alesherbes, ministry of, 421-execution of,   197-rebellion of the Flemings against, 206
445.                                          -betrothed  to Anne of Britanny, ib.Mallard, John, death of Stephen Marcel by,   death of, 229.
111.                                        Mayenne, the duke of, appointed lieutenant$Malplaquet, battle of, 379.                   general, 287-besieged in Paris, ib. —proM~alta, captured by Napoleon, 470.              claims the Cardinal of Bourbon king, 290Manfred, defeat arid death of, 82.              defeated at Ivry, 291-claims the crown,
5Mantua, capture of, by Napoleon, 467.         292-his measures in Paris, 293-proceedManuel, expulsion of, from  the Deputies,   ings of, with the States General, 294-pun537, 538.                                    ishment of, 298.
Marat, rises into influence, 440-his assas-  Mayors of the palace, rise of the, 25.
sination, 444-his body removed from  the  ]Mazarin,cardinal, supremacy of, 328-crushes
Pantheon, 451.                                the parliaments, 332-origin, &c. of the
Marcel, Stephen, provost of Paris, career and    Fronde, 333 et seq.-arrests the leaders of
death of, 111.                               the Fronde, 338-releases them, 339-reMarengo, battle of, 480.                       turn of, 343-his death, 345-fortune amassMIargaret, sister of Francis I., 234-becomes    ed by, 346.
queen of Navarre, 239.                     Medieval history, commencement of, 28.
Margaret, daughter of Catherine de Medicis, Memoirs, origin of, in the time of Louis
mrarriage of Henry de Navarre to, 275-    XIV., 384.
divorce of Henry IV. from, and her char- Meroveg, the invasion of Gaul by, 20.
acter, 301.                                ~Merovingian dynasty, the, 22.
Mlargaret, governor of the Netherlands, 237. Messina, the capture of, by Richard I., 59Margaret of Anjou, marriage of H-enry VI.   siege of, by Charles of Anjou, and its reto, 170-crimes, &c. of, 171.                 lief, 83.
I~Margaret of Burgundy, wife of Louis X., Meulan, the count of, 195.
death of, 97.                               Mieunier, attempt on Louis Philippe by, 545.
Margaret of Scotland, marriage of Louis XI. Middle ages, the, close with Louis XI., 201.
to, 173-her death, ib.                      Middle class, want of a, in France, 459.
BMarignano, battle of, 228.                   Middle classes, increasing importance of the,
Maria de Padilla, mistress of Pedro the    88.
Cruel, 119.                                 Milan, claimed by Louis XII., 214.
Maria Leezinski, marriage of Louis XV. to, M~ilanese, the, overrun by Francis I., 228.
393-death of, 412.                         lMira, general, 534.
~Maria Louisa, Napoleon's marriage to, 503, Minorca, acquired by England, 380 —seized
504-flight of, from Paris, 514.               by the French, 409.
Maria Theresa, claims of, guaranteed, 398-  Mirabeau, in the States General, 433-his
her accession, 400-coalition against her,   death, 438.
402-her husband elected emperor, 408-  Miracles, the ancient, 28.
the Seven Years' War, 410-a party to par-  Mississippi scheme, the, 390.
tition of Poland, 416.                      Modena, duchy of, subdued by Napoleon,
KIaria Theresa of Spain, marriage of Louis   465.
XIV. to, 345-death of, 376.                 MIodura, defeat of the French in India at, 407.




566                                     INDEX.
Mlolay, Jacques de, execution of, 96.          of Campo Formio, 467-llis  habits at Pari1
1Mol6, -Mathew, 336.                           ib.-the Empress Josephine, 469 -the exMBolwitz, battle of, 402.                      pedition to Egypt, 470 et seq. —the massacre
MIonasteries, early importance and uses of   of Gaza, 471-the poisonilg of the sick at
the, 28.                                     Jafta, 472-coalition  a-aiIest I'rarnce, 473MIons, taken by Louis XIV., 371.               return fiom Egypt, 475 —First Con, sul, 476
Mronsorean, the lady of, poisoned, 188.        et seq. —measures of governmnent, 47 —thle
IMontagre, finance minister, execution of, 144.   Code Napoleon, &c., 478 —his generals, 479
Montaigne, anecdote of, 272, 273.              -renewal  of wiirs, ib. —Marelo,    ib-the
Montauban, surrendered to the Euguenots,   infernal machine, 480 —Peace of Lutueville,
274.'                                    481 —Church  re-estallished, 482 —Peace oI
-Mont Cassel, battle of, 360.                  Amllliens 483-ar reneiieed, 484-arrest of
Msontecuculli, opposed to Turenne, 358-suc-   the Eiiglislih, 485 —death of d'iillghien, 486
cesses of, 359-retires from command, ib.    — declared Emperor, ib.-crowned by the
MIontespan, madame de, 368.                    Pope, 487 —honors conferred on generals,
Montesquieu, the works of, 395.                 &c., 488-hostility  to  England, ib.-inMontesquiou, murder of Conud by, 271.          tended invasion, 489-campaign of AusterMontfort, John de, conducts the crusade    litz, 490-aggression on Prussia, 491-battle
against the Albigenses, 66.                  of Trafalgar, ib.-linternal measures, ib.Montfort, Simon de, burgesses first sum-   war with Prussia, and her fall, 492 etsep.mooned to parliament by, 75.                  Eylau, 495-Friedlaund, 496-Treaty of TilMBontfort, the count of, 118-recognized as   sit, ib.-feeling agailnst him in France, 497
duke of Brittany, ib.                        -attack on Portugal and Spain, 498 et seq.
MIonltgomery, death of Henry II. by the hand    -campaign of Wagralm and subjug-stion of
of, 262 —execution of, 278.                  Austria, 501 et seq.-marriage to Maria,Montlhr'y, defeat of ilnsurgent nobles at,   Louisa, 504 —effects of his misrriage, 5051229, 71-battle of, 181.                     w-ar with Russia, 506-the invasion, 507MIlontmorency, the Constable, 247-cruelties    battles of Smolenisko alud Borodiono, 508of, in Bordeaux, 250 —defeat of, at St. Queil-   at Moscow, 509-the retreat, ib. et seq.tin, 260-banished  by the Guises, 264-joins    his retur-n to Paris, ib.-concordat with the
Guise, 268 —death of; 271.                   Pope, 510-battle of Leipsic, 511 —Europe
AMoitmorelcey, appointed Constable by IIenry   in arims, 512-campaigni of 1814 in Franice,
IV., 297.                                    ib. et seq.-Paris taken, 514-dethroned and
Montpellier, sale of, to France, 105-cession    sent to Elba, 515-treachiery of his generals,
of, to Charles the Bad, 118.                 518-return from Elba, 521 et seq.-reaches
Montpensier, the duchess of, instigates the    Fontainebleau, 522-arrival at Paris, and
mursder of HIenry III., 289.                 measures, 523-preparations for war, 524
Montpensier, the duke de (son -of Louis   -campaign  in Belgium, 525-battle  of
Philippe), marries the Infanta, 550.         Waterloo, 527-surrenders, ald removed to
Montserrat, the mlarquis of, the Free Corn-    St. Helena, 528-influence of his name, ib.
panies enlisted by, 113.                      -last years and death, 533 —his memoirs,
Morat, battle of, 192.                         ib.-how designated by the Royalists, 537
Moreau, caunpaign; of, 1796, 465-victory of, at   -death of his son, 543 —power of his ianame
Hohenlinden, 481 —the trial, etc. of, 485, 486.   inl France, 548-his remains brought from
Moscow, the French at, and the burning of,   St,.  elena, ib.
509-the retreat firom, ib. et. seq.        iNTapoleon III., the emiperor, 553. See Louis
Most Christian King, title of, first conferred, [Napoleon.
179.                                         National Assembly, title assumed by the
Mount Tabor, battle' of, 471.                  Tiers Etat, 432.
AMuhlberg, the battle of, 249.                National Convention, the, 443-after fall of
iuunsicipalities, efforts of Philip the }Hand-   Robespierre, 451-rising against it, 452-itE
some against the, 85-encourageaent of,   close, 453.
by Louis XI., 200-position, etc. of the, National Guard, the, dissolved by Charles X.,
under Louis XII., 210.                        538.
Munster, the treaty of, 331.                 Nations, fraternity of, fostered by the cruMurat, as gene al, 479-at Austerlitz, 490-    sades, 81.
made grand-duke of Berg, 491-and Killn of lNavarette, the battle of, 121.
Taples, 498-desertion of Napoleon by, 512. Navarino, the battle of, 539.
Navarre, queen of, dies of the plague, 104.
iNeckar, appointed fisance minister, and his
NT                        measures, 421-again financce mlinister, 436.
Neerwinden, battle of, 448.
Namur, captured by Louis XIV., 371-by  Nelson, the battle of the Nile, 470 —battle of'WNilliam IiI., 373.                         the Baltic, 483-battle of Trafalgasr, and
Nauncy, battle of, 192.                        his death, 491.
Nantes, Hutinenot conspiracy at, 265-the  Nemours, the dukle de, executed, 196, 197.
Edict of, 299-its revocation, 367 et seq.-  Nemours, the duke of, killed, 215.
the atrocities of Carrier at, 445.          Nemours, the duke of, joins the F'ronde, 335.
Naples, the invasion of, by Charles of AnSjou, Nervians, the, 16.
76-capture of, by Charles VIII., 207-  Nerwinde, battle of, 372.
claimed by Louis XII., 213-invaded and  Newfoundland, acquired by England, 380;
conquered, 214-capture of, by the French, Ney, created marshal, 488-joins N:a5Fpoleon
237-the insu rrection of, 330-Joseph Buo-   in 1815, 522-defe:tt of, at Quatre Bras, 526
naparte made Kilng of, 491 —Murat created    -execution of, 529.
Kiing of, 498-revolution in, 532.          [Nicopolis, the battle of, 139.
Napoleon, parallel between, and  Charle- [Nile, battle of the, 470.
magne, 30 —birth of, 413-at the sie'e of [Nimeguen, the peace of, 361.
Toulotl, 450 —suppresses the revolt of the  Nismes, the amphlitheatre of, 18.
Sections, 454 —his  character as a gen'eral, lNnobility, commencelnen t of struggle  be463 —aemnr aign of 1796 inl Italy, 465-Peace    tween, and the croav-n, 39-imlpooverislumneni




INDEXS                                        563
of, from   the crusades, 53-schemes of   seq.-recovered by him, 147-coronation oi
Philip  Augustus  to  weaken, 56-the    Henry VI. at, 163-rises against the EngEnglish, effects of the loss of Normandy    lish, ib.-entry of Charles into, 164-re.
on, 63 et seq.-the French, loss of their   ception of Louis XI. in, 175 —the Massacre
power under Philip Augustus, 64-rising    of St. Bartholomew in, 276 —the Day of
of, against Louis IX., 71-their overthrow,    the Barricades in, 285 —besieged by the
ib.-increasing  union  between, and the    royalist forces, 287-reception of  Ilenry
Com.mons, in England, 75-subjection of,   IV. in, 296 —riots in, 1650, 337-the peace
by  Charles VII.,  169-confederacy  of,   of, 411-the arrival of Louis XVI. at, 437
against Louis XI., 180 et seq.-depression    -society in, under the Cotsulate, 478of, by Louis XI., 199-position of, under   taken by theAllies, 514-retulrnofNapoleon
Louis XII., 210-fall of, 222-under Louis   to, 523-the archbishop of, ifluence with
XIII., 309-succession of, in France, 325-    Charles X., 540 —the revolution of 1830,
state on the accession of Louis XIV., 326-      541-fortification of, 547.
their manners, &c., 327-emigration of, 436, Parliament, influence of, in England, 187.
437-their returl in 1814, and arrogance, 516. Parliament, burgnesses first suslonised to, 75
Nogaret, Villiam de, minister of Philip IV.,    - dismissal of the, by Louis XIV., 348 —
93, 95.-the persecution of the Templars, lb.   of Paris, resistance of, to Malnzarin, 831 —his
Nordlingen, the battle of, 330.                  measures against it, 332-resist reform, 420,
[Normandy, accession of Rollo to dukedom         421.
of, 36-practical independence of, 38-the  Parliaments, the French, establishment of, by
churches of, 46-difficulties of Louis VI.    Louis IX;, 76, 329-suppression of, by Louis
with,50-acquisition of,by Philip Augustus,    XV., 414 et seq.
63-effects of its loss on the English nobles, Parliamentary eloquence, rise of, in France,
ib.-renounced by Henry III., 75-cruelties    534.
of Louis XI. in, 181.                        Parma, the duke of, in France, 293-his death,
Normans, amlalgalmation of, with the Anglo-    294.
Saxons, 64.                                  Parma, contributions by Napoleon on, 465.
Norsemen, Charlemagne's foresight regard-  Pastorals, what, and their suppression, 4S.
ing the, 32-increasing inroads and devas-  Passau, the treaty of, 254.
tations of, 36-conquests, &c., of Rollo, ib. Patriarchal system, extinction of the, in Gaul,
NTotables, meeting of the, 1560, 266-under    18s.
Ilenry IV., 298-under Louis XVI., 430.    Paul III., quarrels with Charles V., 249.
Paul IV., hostility of to Charles V., 259.
Paulette, the, and measures of Mrazarin against
O                       Iit, 832.
Pavia, the battle of, 233-capture of, by NapoOliver le Daim, ambassador to Mary of Bur-   loon, 466
gundy, 195.                                  Peasantry, the French, influence of the Church
Ordinances of Charles X., the, 540.              over the, 87, 88-discontents and risings of,
Orleans, the duke of, 140-his murder, 142.       98-oppressed state of, 136-popularity oi
Orleans, the princes of, contest betweet, and    Chrls VI among, 150-depressed condiBurgundy, 145.                                 tion of, 167-state of, on accessiion of Louis
Orleans, the bastard of, 158.  See Dunois.       XVI., 422-rising of, during the l"evolution,
Orleans, the princess of, 342.                   435.
Orleans, the duke of, his character, 381-  Pedro of Aragon, a suitor of the heiress of
regent, 389 et seq.-the Mississippi scheme,   Provence, 7-invasion  of Sicily by. 83.
l390-his deathl, 392.                        Pedro the Cruel, Du Guesclin leads the Free
Orleans, the dcuke of (Egalit9), joins the    Lances aainst, 120-expelled  the throne
Tiers Etat, 433 —execution of, 444.            121-reinstated by the Black Prince, 122Orleans, the duke of (son of Louis Philippe),    death of        b Bb.
his death, 549.
Orhis deans, the duchess of, her heroism, 553.    People, first appearance of, as a power in tihe
Orleans, the ovucrhes   of  tie Sarace s,   state, t) odition of the, ii the time of
Orleans, the overthrow  of the Saracens at,   Louis XII., 221
27-mthe siege of, 158-is raised by Joan of Pepin, elevation of, to the throne of France,
Arc, 161.                                      27 —his career, ib. ei seq.-his steath, i.
Ortez, the viscount of, during the Massacre  Ire la Chaise, Confessor to Madlame    Main.
of St. Bartholomlew, 277.                      tenon, 386
Otho, the  emperor, joins  league against Periord, restored to Enland, 73.
Phillp Augustus, 66 —his defeat, 67.         Perigueux, the Count de, and HIugh Capet, 89.
Odenarde, battle of, 37.           Peronne, visit of Louis XI. to Charles of Burgundy at, 183.
p                        Perrers Alice, 122.
Persia, effects of the Macedonian conquest in,
23.
I'alatinate, the, ravaged by Turenne, 358.     Pescara, 23. Spanish g
Palermo, the massacre of the French in, 83.  Pe              na
Palestine see Holy Lantld.            I  8      Peter of Lusignan, King of Cyprus, 113.
Pamiers, the bishop of, and Philip IV., 90-  Peter Farnese, the murder of, 249.
is tr, a t i  Peterborough, lord, the victories of. 379.
Paoli, susrendcer of, 4A13.                  Petit, John, defence of the Duke of Burgundy
Paoli, surrender of, 413.
Papacy, schism in the, 125.                      by, 142.
Ppal States, revolution in the, 532.            Philip I., accession of, 47-his character, &c.,
Par6, Ambrose, 277.                            Plip I
Paris, the couat of (grandson  of Louis   of, 4                       t      X
Psi i  the  count of (grandson  of Louis   Philip III. (the Hardy), accession of, 8 —reign
Philippe), 549.                                o, 84.
P.aris, rising of the burghers of, for Louis IX.,  Philip IV. (the  Iandsome), accession at, d
71-riots in, 1359, 111-besieged by Edward    rein  of, 84-his efforts aaissst the CossIII., 112 —entry of Charles VI. into, 130 —
II   11te  of,  der John t  eales VI into, 14430- munes, 86-and the Church, 8i, 87-quarrel
ta ~o uf, cinder Johnl thle Fesiless, 144 et   with Edward I., 89 —obtains cession of Sit




568                                     INDEX.
cily, ib.-marriage of his daughter to Ed-  Popes, the rival, 153-decision of the Council
ward II., ib. —gains of, ib.-contest with    of Constance on, ib.
Boniface VIII., 90 —contest with the Flem-  Popery, renunciation of, by Henry VIII., 239.
ings, 91-arrest and death of Boniface, 92,  Portugal, amalgamated with Spain, 304-con93-procures the election of a French pope,    eludes peace with Napoleon, 481-Napo94-the persecution of the Templars. 95-    leon's invasion of, 49S-revolution in, 544.
his death, 96.                              Pothinus, introduction  of Christianity into
Philip V. (the Long), accession and reign of,o98.    Gaul by, 19.
Philip VI., accession of, 99, 100-wars with  Pragmatic Sanction, the, 164 —abandoned by
Edward III, 101 et seq.-battles of Sluys.   Louis XI., 178-re-established by Louis
and Crecy, 102-capture of Calais, 103-    XII., 213.
plague of Florence, and purchase of Dau-  Praguery, the insurrection of the, 16S.
phiny, &-c., 105-marries Blanche of Navarre. Press. restrictions on the, bvy Napoleon, 477ib.-his death, ib.                            and under Louis Philippe, 544.
Philip the IHandsomne, of Spain, 215.         Pretender, the, 405.
Philip II. of Spain, marriage of, to Mary of Prie, the marchioness de, 892.
England, 256-his accession, 259-war with  Priests, return of the, 46S-activity, &c. of,
France, 260-retreats, 261-married to Eliza-    1814, 517-increasing power of, under Charles
beth of France, 262-rejoicings of, on the bas-   X., 537 et seq.
sacre of St. Bartholomew, 276-claims the  Priestcraft, early advantages of, 47.
French crown for his daughter, 291-domi-  Primnogeniture, abolition of, in France, 531neering conduct of, in France, 294 —wavar with,   proposed restoration of, 538.
297-peace concluded, and his death, 299.   Printing, the invention of, and its effects, 223
Philip III., character of, 309.                 et seq.
Philip V., accession of, as King of Spain, 379-  Prisons, massacre of the, 441.
recognized, 380.                            Privateers, the French, 374.
Philip -the HIardy of Burgundy, death of, 140.  Privileges of the nobility, the. 203.
Philip, duke of Burgundy, adherence of, to  Proprietors, position of the, in the feudal systhe English, 148, 157-regent of France, 161    tem, 10.
-joins the French, 163, 164.                Protestants, persecution of the, by Henry II..
Philip van Arteveldt, the overthrow of, 131.    24S-measures of Louis XIV. against the;
Philip Augustus, accession of, 53-character    367.
of, and his struggle with the English kings, Protestantism  identified with freedom, 252,
56-the third crusade, 5S-einmity between    263.
him and Richard Cceur-de-Lion, 59 —his re-  Proventals, the crusade against the, 66 et seq.
turn to France, 60-return and release of Provence, seizure of. by Louis XI., 204-the
Richard, 62-acquisition of Normnandy by,   ballad poetry of, 55.
63 —his increasing power, 64-the crusade  Prussia, the rise of, 401 —the Seven Years'
against the Albigenses, 66-league afainst    War, 410-the partition of Poland, 416-dehin, 66, 67-changes introduced by, 69 —his    clares war against France, 439-peace with
(death, 70.                                   the French Republic, 452-aggressions by
Philippa of England and the citizens of Calais,    Napoleon on, 4931-campaign of Jena, and
103.                                          her subjugation, 493 et seq.-treaty of Tilsit,
Picardy rises against the English, 163.         496 —views of, on the return from Elba, 523.
Pichegru, conquest of the Netherlands by, 451  Public Good, war of the, 179-and again, 311.
-treason of, 465-the conspiracy'and death  Pyramids, battle of the, 470.
of, 485.                                    Pyrenees, treaty of the, 344.
Piedmont, overrun by the French, 371-seizure of, by Napoleon, 4Si —revolution in, 532.
Pilgrimages to Rome and Jerusalem, origin
and prevalence of, 45-their social effects,
46 —their increase, 47.                     Quatre Bras, battle of, 525.
Pius VI., coronation of Napoleon by, 487.     Quesnay, cannon first employed at siege of,
Pius VII., concordat -with, 510.                102.
Pilus IX., the reforms of, 551.               Quiberon, the defeat of the emigrants at, 453.
Placentia, seizure of, by Charles V., 249.    Quiroga, general, 534.
Plague of Florence, the, 104.
Plessis le Tours, death of Louis XI. at, 201.
Poitiers, the battle of, 108.                                       R
Poitou, acquisition of' by the English king, 51
-the court of. 71-renounced by Henry III.,  Race, importance of homogeneity of, 14.
75-reconquered from the English, 124.       Racine, flattery of Louis XIV. by, 363-the
Poland, Hlenry II. as king of, 279 et seq.-    works of, 883.
contest for kingdom  of, 896-the partition  Ramilies, battle of, 379.
of, 416-Napoleoin's policy toward, 494.     Ranks, separation of, in Roman Gaul, 18.
Police, system of, under Napoleon, 478.       Rapp, at Austerlitz, 490.
Polignac ministry, the, 539-the ordinances, Ravaillac, murder of Henry IV. by, 807.
540.                                        Ravenna, the battle of, 219.
Poltrot de MenS, murder of Guise by, 271.     Raymond of Provence, marriages of the daughPompa.dour, madame de, 410 —enmity of, to   ters of, 72.  *
the Jesuits, 412-her death, ib.             Raymond of Toulouse, crusade against, 66Pondicherry, capture of, by the Dutch, 073-    submission of, 72-again  subdued, 73-a
defeat of the English before, 406-captured    suitor of the heiress of Provence itb.
by them, 407.                               Rebellion of 1715, the, 38 —,,f 1745, 405,
Pope, the, made a temporal sovereign  by  Reformation, the, in England, 23S —in France,
I'epin,27S-the coronation of Charlemagne by,    239.
31-submission of Louis XI. to, 178 —con-  Reichstadt, the duke of, his death, 543.
fears on him the title of The Most Christian  Reign of Terror, the, 445 ct seq.
Kiing, 179 —quarrel of Louis XIV. with, 848. Relics, the traffic in, 46.




INDEX.                                      569
RelIgion, gradual change of, among the Gauls, Royalists, atrocities of the, 1S15, 529.
17-state of, under Louis XIV.. 881.         Russia, the partition of Poland, 416-the camReligious wars, cruelties of the 267, 272 et seq.   paign of Austerlitz, 490-the war of 1SOG0
R6ene  of Lorraine, aids the Swiss againut   with, 494 et seq. —hostility of, 505-war beCharles of Burgundy, 192.                     gins, 506-the invasion, 507-views of, at
Rne6 of Provence, subjugation of, by Louis    Congress of Vienna, 519-on the return from
XI., 204.                                     Elba, 523.
Retz, the cardinal de, his intrigues, 883-con-  Ruyter, admiral de, 857-his death, 360.
tinnued intrigues, and popularity of, 8837-  Ryswick, peace of, 374.
treason of, 838-created cardinal, 340-his
fall, 843.
Revolution, effects of the, 454.                                   S
Rlevolutionary Calendar, the, 461.
Revolutionary Tribunal, the, 441.             St. Andr6, the marshal, joins Guise, 268.
Rheims, repulse of Edward III. before, 112-  St. Antoine, battle of, 341.
coronation of Charles VI. at, 160-corona-  St. Aubin de Cormier, defeat and capture of
tion of Louis XVI. at, 419.                   Louis of Orleans at, 205.
Rhine, the, as the natural boundary of France, St. Bartholomew, the massacre of, 276.
13.                                         St. Bernard, the second crusade preached by, 51.
Richard I. of EnFland, accession of, and his  St. Cyr, military college of, 478.
struggle with Philip Augustus, 53 —first St. Domingo, Napoleon's expedition to, 4S3.
acts, &c. of, 57-the third crusade, 58-en-  St. Germain, treaty of, 274.
mity between him and Philip Augustus, ib. St. Helena, death of Napoleon at, 583 —Na-his proceedings in Palestine, 59, 60-re-   poleon's remains removed from, 548.
turn, and imprisonment in Austria, 61-his  St. Jacques. the battle of, 170.
trial and acquittal, ib.-release and death, 62. St. James de Beuvron, defeat of the French at,
Richard II., accession of, 124-character, &c.   157.
of, 137-his marriage, ib.-his dethronement St. Jean d'Acre, the repulse of Napoleon at, 471.
and death, 140.                             St. Jean de l'Angely, the abbe of, poisoning of
Richard III., overthrow of, 205.                Charles of Guienne by, 187-his death, 188.
Rlichelieu, cardinal, rise of, 311-his suprem- St. Michael, order of, instituted by Louis XI.,
acy, 314, 315-the Day of Dupes, 316-mili-   185.
tary bishops, &c., created by, 318-his ob- St. Pierre, Eustace, 104.
jects, ib.-revolt against him, 319-extine- St. Pol, the count, appointed Constable, 181 —
tion of independence by  him, 820-the    joins new league against Louis XI., 1S9-his
conspiracy of Cinq Mars, 320, 321-his death,   capture and execution, 190.
321 —and character, 322.                    St. Quentin, battle of, 260.
Richelieu, the duke de, at Fontenoy, 404-cap- Saladin, treaty of Richard I. with, 60.
ture of Minorca by, 409.                    Salic law, the, among the Franks, 25.
Richelieu, the duke de, the ministry of, 530.    Salisbury, the earl of, siege of Orleans, 15Siclhemont, the earl of, 156-joins Charles VII.,   his death, bi.
157-dismissed, 15S-joins the French, 168.   Salt, tax on, first imposed by Philip VI., 108.
Rivoli, battle of, 467.                       Saltsbach, death of Turenne at, 858.
Robert I., character and reign of, 42.        Saon, the archbishop of, murder of, 132.
Robert, count of Flanders, 92.                Saracens, progress of the, and their defeat by
Robert, duke of Normandy, a pilgrim, 45.        Charles Martel, 26-CharleInagne's wars with
Robert of Clermont, murder of, 110.             the, 81, 32.
Robespierre, first appearance of, 434-character  Sardinia, crushed by Napoleon, 465.
and rise of, 440-supremacy of, 445-the  Savoisi, Philip de, treasurer of Charles V., 129.
Reign of Terror, ib,-his overthrow  and  Saxe, marshal, at Fontenoy, 404.
death, 447.                                 Saxons, the, conquest of, by Charlemagne, 82Rochefoucauld-Liancourt, the duke de, his fu-   treason of, at Leipsic, 511.
neral, 538.                                 Scherer, defeat of, by Siawarrow, 474.
Rochelle, captured from the English, 124-sur- Schill, the revolt of, 501 —his death, 502.
rendered to the Huguenots, 276-defeat of  Schomnberg, colonel, at Ivry, 291.
the Catholics before, 2S —siege of, under  SchomberF, marshal, exiled by the revocation
Richelieu, 315.                               of the Edict of Nantes, 867.
Rocroy, Cond6's victory at, 329.              Scotland, the union of, with England, 804.
Rodney, admiral, defeat of Count de Grasse by, Scots auxiliaries, victory of the, at Beanug6, 154.
427.                                        Scots mercenaries, employment of, by Louis
Rollo, conquests and settlement of. 86.         XI., 179.
}Eoman civilization, reticence of, in Gaul, 20.   Segnier, opposes the introduction of the InquiRoman Empire, the barbarian conquest of, 23.   sition, 25T.
Iolne, early struggles of, with the Gauls, 15-  Seguier, reactionary policy of, 519.
conquest of the latter, ib.-advantages to the  Seminara, defeat of the French at, 215.
barbarians of her civilization, laws, &c., 16-  Senef, battle of, 858.
origin of pilgrimages to, 45-the capture of, Septimania, the marquises of, 85.
by the Constable Bourbon, 236.              Serfs, compulsory  emancipation  of, under
Rome, King of (son of Napoleon), 505-his    Philip V., 99.
death, 543.                                 Serfdom, development and effects of, in Gaul,
Rosbach, battle of, 410.                        18.
Rosbec, the battle of, 131.                    Seven Years' War, the, 402 et seq., 410 et seq.
IRoses. Wars of the, 171 et seq.-contrasted with  Sicilian Vespers, the, S.
the religious wars of France, 272.           Sicily, cession of, to Philip IV., 89.
Rouen, cruelties of the duke of Anjou in, 130-  Si6yes, the abb6, 474.
capture of, by Henry V., 147-execution of  Silesia, surrendered to Prussia, 402-retained
Joan of Are at, 163-captured from the Eng-   by Prussia, 403.
lish, 172-cruelties of Louis XI. at, 1S1 et seq. Sintzheim, battle of, 858.
Rousseau, the works of, 395.                  Sixtus V., rejoiciiugs of, on the murder of




570                                       INDEX.:lenry  III., 290 —refuses to acknowledge  Tallien, overthrow of Robespierre by, 44S.
Henry IV., 292.                               Tanneguy du Chatel, nilurder of the Duke o
Sluys, the battle of, 102.                         Burgundy by, 148.
Sisalkald. the Protestant league of, 240.       Taxation, pressure of, 9 — reformis of Htenry
Smith, Sir Sidney, at Acre, 471.                   IV. regarding, OO0.
Smolensko, battle of, 508.                      Taxes increase of, under Louis XI., 179Society, peculiar state of, in Gaul, under the    pressure of under Charles VIII., 203-imFrainks, 23-changes in the time of Charle-    posed by Napoleon, 477.
magne,  29-state of, on the accession of Templars, the persecution  of the, 95-aboliHtugh Capet, 42 —state. of, under Louis XV.,   tion of the order. eb.
416.                                          Teinple, SirW., triple alliance arranged by, 354.
Soissons, the count de, revolt  of, 819-his  Tennis-court oath, the, 4"3.
death, 320.                                   Thiers, measures of, in Algeria, 545-party
Soissons, the Conrt of Clovis at, 22              headed by, 546-war policy, and dismissed,
Solyman, alliance of Francis I. with, 240.        547.
Somerset, the earl of, 172                      Third Estate, progress of' the, under Philip
Sorel Agnes, 174 —her death, 175.                 IV., 96.
Soult, created  marshal, 48s-at Austerlitz,  Thirty Years' "War, the, 313.
490-joins Louis XVIII., 519.                  Tiers Etat, the, in the States General of 1789,
Spain, the Saracenic conquest of, 26-first    432-joined by the clergy &c., ib.
quarrel between  Louis XIV. and, 347-  Toulon, the siege of, 4.50.
position of; at the time of Louis XIV, 350  Toulouse, count of, natural son of Louis XIV.,
-wvill of Charles II.. and'ar of the Suc-   382.
cession, 386 et se. —alliance with France,  Toulouse, practical independence of, 38-capand war with Ernglad,  425-N-apoleon's in-    tured by Charles VII., 172.
vasion  of, 4990-lisasters of the French in, Touraine, renounced by H-Ienry III., 75.
505-expulsion of the French from, 5-11-the  Tours, parliamrent at, under Charles VIII.,
revolution in, a532-invaded by  the duke    202-repulse of the Leaguers at, 2S7.
d'Angoul6me, 534 —ievolution in, 1831, 544.  Towns, increase of the, in Gaul under the
Spanish marriages, the, and their effect, 550.    Romans, 18 —increasing importance of the,
Spurs, battle of the, 92 —atain, 220.             50-efforts of, against the nobility under
Standin, army, formation of a, by Charles VII.,    Louis IX., 71-franchise  given  the, by
165.                                            Louis XI., 199.
Stanislaus, exs-ing of Poland, marriare of Trade, increase of, fiom the crusades, 53.
his daunhter to Lonis XV., 893-attempt to  Trafallgar, battle of. 491.
recover his crown, 396-his rule in Lorraine,  Trebbia, battle of the, 474.
398.                                          Trent, Council of, 244.
Star, order of the, 1S5.                        Triple alliance, the, against Louis XIV., 854.
States, consolidation of, in Europe, 304.       Tristan 1'Hermite, the  executioner  under
States General. meetinl of the, in the reicn of   Louis XI., 182.
John II., 109s-in the time of Louis XII., Troyes, the treaty of, 149.
221-call for, 1G60, 266-their meeting, 26S  Truce of God, the, 44 —its effects, 46.
-in the reign of Louis XIII., 310-meeting  Tuileries, the capture of the, on the 10th Au
of the, 17S9, 431 et seq.                       gust, 439.
Steinkirk, the battle ot, 371.                  Turenne, the viscount de, 330 —in the service
Steart, Robert, murdcer of MIontmorency by,    of Spain, 339-struggle betsweenl, and CondS(,
271.                                            340, 341-battle of St. Antioine, 841 —FlanStofflet, execution of, 463.                      ders overrun by, 352, 353-during invasion
Strafford, parallel  between, and JRichelieu,    of Holland, 357, 3858-his  death, 859-at
323.                                            first a Protestant, 367.
Strasburs, seized by Louis  XIV., 364-the  Turgot, measures proposed by, 420 et seq.
attempt of Louis Napoleon at, 545.            Turks, capture of Constantinople by the, 224.
Succession,   aar of the, 377 et 8eq.
Succession, the new law of, in France, 531.                            U
Suffolk, the earl of, banishment of, 1l7-earl
of, 171.                                      Ulm, TNapoleon's capture of, 4S9.
Sully, the duke de, his character, &c., 300.    Unigenitus, the Bull called, 408.
Superior,; position of the, in feudal system, 41.  United States, the revolt of the, 423-their inSuwarrow, the victories of. 474.                  dependence acknowvledged, 428.
Sweden, joins alliance against Louis XIV., Urban VI., pope, 125.
8353.                                         Urban, pope, attempt at a new crusade by
Swiss, employment of, by Louis XI., 179.          1360, 113.
Swviss, massacre of the, at the Tuileries, 439.   Utrecht, the treaty of, 8SO.
Switzerland, invasion of, by Louis XI., when
Dauphin,  170 —ar of Charles the Rash
against, 191 et seq.-democratic movement                            V
in, and its suppression, 550.
Sylvester II., pope, 45.                        Valais, seizure of, by Napoleon, 4S4.
SylviLs, bishop of Albi, 24.                    Valentine of Milan, swife of the duke of Or
Syria, Napoleon's expedition into, 471.           leans, 143-her death, ib.
Valentinois, the duchess of, 264.
T                        Valmy, the battle of, 448.
Vassy, massacre of Hulguenots at, 269.
Tahiti, aggressions of France in, 549.          Vauban. the system of, &c., 3852-duriing inva.
Talbot, John, victories of, in France, 157-    sion of I-iolland, 3857.
siege of Orleans, 15S-made prisoner, 161-  Vaucouleurs, first appearance of Joan of Arc
captures Dieppe, 170-death  of, 172.            at, 159.
Talleyrand, influence of, 1S14, 519-at Congress  Vend6mne, duke de, 883 —joins the Fronde, 885.
of Vienna, ib.-dismissal of, 530.             Vend6me column, the, 548.




INDEX.                                      571
Venice, the league of Cambrai against, 218.     of Vimeira, 499-battle of Vittoria, 511-en.
Vercundaridub, a Gaul, 16.                      ters France, 512-intimates the return from
Vermandois, the duke of, created lord high    Elba, 523-battle of Waterloo, 525, 526-his
admiral, 855.                                 conduct with regard to the execution of Ney,
Verneuil, battle of, 155.                       529.
Veromandians, the, 16.                        Westphalia, the peace of, 332.
Versailles, the palace of, 854-life of Louis  William  of Normandy, accession of, 46-conXIV. at, 375 et seq.-characteristics of, 386,    quest of England by, 4S.
383 —the banquet at, and departure of Louis  William of Orange (William  III.), defence of
XVI. from, 486.                               Holland by, 356 et seq.-alliance in his favor,
Vervins, treaty of, 299.                        358-the Peace of Nimeguen, 361-accession
Victor IV., pope, 54.                           of, to the English throne, 369-battle of the
Victor Amadeus, chosen pope, 166.               Boyne, 3870-of La Hogue, 371-hostilities
Vienna, taken by Napoleon, 490-again taken    with France, ib.-battles of Steinkirk and
by Napoleon, 501-the congress of, 519-feel    Nerwinde, 32 —his successes, 3T3 —peace of
ings at the congress on the return from Elba,   Riyswick, 874 —treaty for dismembernment of
523.                                          Spain, 36 —the War of the Succession, 375
Vienne, importance of. under the Romans, 18.    -his death, ib.
Villars, marshal, death of, 397.              Winchester, the cardinal of, 171.
Villle, M. de, the ministry of, 536,-dismissal  Witt, the Pensionary de, 36 —his death, 357.
of, 539.                                    Wolsey, cardinal, and Charles V., 230-joina
Villemain, dismissal of, from office, 5388.     league against Charles V., 236.
Vittoria, battle of, 511.
Voltaire, influence of, 394-account of Fontenoy by, 403-persecution of, by the clergy,                       X
458.
Xaintrailles, a French leader, 158.
Wagram, battle of, 502.                                            Y
Waldemar, King of Denmark, 113.
Walpole, Sir Robert, policy, &c. of, 896.     York, archbishop of, banishment of, 137.
War indemnity, the French, 1815, 530.         York, slaughter of the Jews in, 57.
Warwick, the earl of, the King-maker, 186.    Yorkists, rise of the, 171.
Washington, rise, &c. of, 423.
Waterloo, battle of, 526.
Wealth, increased diffusion of, with the cru-                      Z
sadles, 50.
Wellington, landing of, in Portugal, and battle  Zacharias, pope,-coronation of Pepin by, 27.
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Hand-Books on Education.                           The Countries and Cities of the World.
Hand-Book of Anglo-Saxon Root-Words.             2 vols.
Hand-Book of Anglo-Saxon Derivatives.          The Navigation of all Ages. 2 vols.
Hand-Book of the Engarafted Words.             The Art of Building in Ancient and
Iandy-Book of Property La-w.                        Modern Times. 2 vols.
Happy Child's Library. 1S vols. in case.          The Religions of Ancient and Modern
IHarkness' First Greek Book.                        Times. 2 vols.
Latin Grammar.                              The Fine Arts Illustrated. 2 vols.
First Latin Book.                           Technology Illustrated. 2 vols.
Second'                           Internal Revenue Law.
Latin Realer.                         Iredell's Life. 2 vols.
Hase's History of the Church.                Italian Comedies.
Haskell's Housekeeper's Encyclopmdia.
Hassard's Life of Archbishop Hughes.         Jacobs' Learning to Spell.
--  Wreath of Beauty.                        -   The same, in two parts.
Haupt on Bridge Construction.                Jaeaer's Class-Book of Zoology.
Haven's Where There's a Will There's aWay.    James' (J. A.) Youngr Man.
-   Patient Waiting no Loss.                 James' (II.) Logic of Creation.
-   Nothing Venture Nothing Have.            James' (G. P. R.) Adrien.
-   Out of Debt Out of Danger.              Jameson's (Mrs.) Art Works.
-   Contentment Better than Wealth.             -- Legends of Saints and Martyrs. 2 vls.
N-    o Such Word as Fail.                   --   Legends of the Monastic Orders.
-   All's Not Gold that Glitters.            -     Legends of the Madonna.
-   A Place for Everything, and Every-    l —    istory of Our Lord. 2 vols.
thing in its Place.                    Jarvis' Reply to Milner.
-   Loss and Gain.                          Jay on American Agriculture.
-   Pet Bird.                   [in case.    Jeffers on Gunnery.
-    ome Series of Juvenile Books. 8 vols.    Jeffrey's (F.) Essays.
Haven (Memoir of Alice B.).                 Johnson's Meaning of Words.
Hazard on the Will.                         Johnson's (Samuel) Rasselas.
Hecker's Questions of the Soul.             Johnston's Chemistry of Common Life. 2 v.
Hlemans' Poems. 2 vols.
-   Songs of the Affections.                Kavanagh's Adele.
IHenck's Field-Book for Engineers.          -      Beatrice.
Henry on Human Progress.                     --         aisy Burns.
Herbert's Poems.                            --    Grace Lee.
Here and There.                             --   Madeleine.
Herodotus, by Johnson (in Greek).           -      Nathalie.
Herodotus, by Rawlinson (in English). 4 vs.  --    achel Gray.
Heydenreich's German Reader.                -      Seven Years.
-Iickok's Rational Cosmology.                --   Queen AMab.
R- ational Psychology.                             Women of Christianity.
History of the Rebellion, Military and Naval,    Keats' Poems.
Illustrated.                           Keep a Good IHeart.
tIoffman's Poems.                           Keightley's Mythology.
Holcombe's Leading Cases.                   Keil's Fairy Stories.
-      Law of Pr. and Cr.                   Keith (Memoir of Caroline P.)
-      Letters in Literature.               Kendrick's Greek OllendorEr.