^/"^^ vv-S-f s^ nW EDWIN C. DINWIDDIE Subject Glass. Book, THE EDWIN C. DINWIDDIE COLLECTION OF BOOKS ON TEMPERANCE AND ALLIED SUBJECTS (PRESENTED BY MRS. DINWIDDIE) TALES FROM FRENCH HISTORY. BY SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart. FROM THE LAST REVISED EDITION, CONTAINING THE author's final CORRECTIONS, ETC. PHILADELPHIA : PORTER & COATES. 0ift Mins. Edwin C. Dinwiddia, Dec. 2o, 1936 TO MASTER JOHN HUGH LOCKHART. My Dear Boy, I MUST no longer treat you as a child ; so 1 now lay aside the pet ap}3ellation of Hugh Littiejohn, Esq and address you by your name. Heaven, at whose pioasure we receive good and evil — and we are bound to receive both with thanks and gratiiuo.e — r.as afflicted you from infancy with a delicacy of constitution. With this misfortune there are often connected tastes and hab- its the most valuable any man can acquire, but which are indispensable to those who are liable, from inditlerent heahh, to be occasionally confined to the solitude of their own apartment. The hours you now'employ in reading are passed happily, and render you independent of the society of others, but will yet prove far more val- uable to you in future life, since, if your studies are well directed, and earnestly pursued, there is nothing to pre- vent your rising to be at once an ornament and a benefit to society. It is with gl'eat pleasure, my dearest boy, that your parents remark in you early attention (o youi book, and a marked desire to profit by what you read ; nor can 1, as one of the number, make a better use of a part of my leisure tiuie tlian to dedicate it to jour ad- vantage and that of your con-temporaries, who_, I iiust, ivill play their parts honourably in the world, lung aftei 4 DEDICATION. the generation to which your grandfather belongs has mouldered into earth. The volumes which I formerly inscribed related to a part of Great Britain only : but it was to that portion which should be dear to us both, as the land of our fath- ers ; and I was therefore induced to descend ^moTe into particulars than I should have ventured upon in any other narrative. I have been assured from many quarters that the Tales from Scottish History have been found useful and interesting to the young persons to whom they were addressed, and that some even of those whose wild spir- its and youthful years had hitherto left them little time or inclination to study, have been nevertheless captivated by stories, which, while they are addressed to the imagi- nation, are, at the same time, instructive to the under- standing. It would have been natural that I should next have adopted English history as my theme ; but there are so many excellent abridgments, that 1 willingly leave you to acquire a knowledge of that important subject from other sources. The History of England, in Letters, said to be from a nobleman to his son, and sometimes called Lord Lyttleton's Letters, but in reality written or com- piled by Dr. Oliver Goldsmith, gives the liveliest and best views of it ; to this you must, in due time, add the perusal of the many and interesting volumes which give a fuller account of the history of the more important part of our island of Britain. In the meantime, it is highly proper you should know something of the history of France, whose influence upon the Continent of Europe has almost always been strug- gling and contending with that of England herself, and with such obstinacy as to give rise to wars the most* DEDIC4T10Jr. a bloody by which the peace of the world has been at a.ny period disturbed. I have, as you will observe, been occasionally called to interrupt the current of the work by remarks which tho incidents demanded. Still, however, I have endeavoured to make amusement the mode of introducing instruction ; remembering always that I am no longer writing for the amusement of a child of five years, but composing a work to be submitted to the criticism of a young person who wears masculine garments, and will soon be nine years old. Under these increasing difficulties, it will give me pleasure to find that I still possess the power to inter- est and instruct you ; being, with warm regard, My dear John Hugh, Your very affectionate Grandfather, Walter Scott. Abbotsford, Wth Jidyy 1830, TALES FROM FRENCH HISTORY. CHAPTER I. The most Patriotic States have heen generally the mr.sl jimbitiovs — ^Iggressions of Rome vpon the Independ- ence of Foreign JVations — Gaid — its Description -- and Inhabitants — Their Religion — The Order of Druids — The JMditarrj Character of the Gauls — They invade Italy — and Greece — Their vicinity dan- gerous to Rome — Cccsar appointed General in Gaul — Resolution of the Helvetians to emigrate — The difficulties of their Route — Ccesar blocks up the Pas- sage between Geneva and Alount Jura — Pursues the Rtlvetians as far as the Arar, and destroys their Rear-guard — jit last, totally defeats them — The Ger- mans cross the Rhine to invade Gaul — Their Char- acter, Genius, and Manners — The Roman Soldiers mutiny, but are pacified by Ccesar^s Address — Ccesar defeats Ariovistus and the Germans — Conquest of Gaul by Ccesar. The love of power is deeply impressed on mankind, whether they have a political existence in the relation of states and empires, or remain in their individual capacity. Even in those strict republics, where individuals find it most difficult to raise themsrives to superior stations, whether by address, eloquence, or any other influential superiority, the desire to add to the power which may he enjoyed and wielded by the public at large, is more strongly 8 LOVE OF CONQUEST UNJUSTIFIABLE. felt by each person, exactly in proportion to his own ex- clusion from individual authority ; and the reason is plain, because the poorest and most humble citizen beholds him- self, in idea, enriched with a portion of the fame and power acquired by the state, and considers himself as a gainer in the good fortune of the commonwealth. It thus follows, that, for a time at least, the love of the republic supersedes the plans which men entertain under other forms of government for their private advantage. It cannot be denied, that a state which can thus engross, for the public service, all the estimable and useful quali- ties of its citizens, presents an imposing spectacle, grand and unconquerable in the talents and capacities which it unites, and commanding at pleasure all tliat can be sacri- ficed in its cause, from the knowledge of the most pro- found philosopher, to the courage and life of its hardiest peasant". Yet, pushed to excess, this disinterested patri- otism must, far fj'om a virtue, be numbered in the rolls of vice. To pillage and oppress, to conquer and subdue the freedom and independence of other states, is not laudable, any more than to rob and slay for the rnaintenance of our own household ; though, to provide for our family by law- ful means, is an imperious duty. Rome, the mistress, or rather the tyrant, of the world, as it was then known to exist, grew to her excess of power by the injustice of her children, who held it as the pnnci])le of their being, that the empire should be extended as far as the habitable world permitted. That extensive yet compact country, now called France, and at an earlier period known by the name of Gallia, or Gaul, was one of the most important which was liable to the general encroachmc nts made by Rome on her neigh- bours. But the inhabitants being a very numerous, cour- ageous people, and much disposea to martial achieve- ments, were addicted, like most other nations, to leave their own country when they found their population in- crease, and hive off in military colonies, to establish new settlements elsewhere. They were, in this respect, neigh- bours wh'f stiuck terror even into the Romans themselves EXTENT AND INHABITANTS OF iJAUL. U and who, although often at war with that great republic, were not finally or eflectually subdued until the last days of Roman freedom. Gaul was understood to contain the whole country bounded by the Pyrenees, the Alps, the Rhine, the Med- iterranean Sea, and the Ocean, but considerable portions have been since detached from modern France. Such were the Cantons of Switzerland, with the German terri- tories on the Rhine. This portion of Europe, considerable not only from its extent, but from its climate and fertility, was chiefly, but not entirely, inhabited by the descendants of the Celtic race. These Celts, by whom Gaul was first peopled, ap- pear to have been the great family by which tiie habitable parts of Europe were first settled, though their descend- ants were afterwards conquered and overcome by the Gothic tribes — the second great colonists of the most civilized quarter of the globe. But two great portions of the Gallic Celts had admitted such modifications of language and manners, the one from the neighbouring Germans, the other from its connexion with the Spaniards, that the one people were called Bel- gee, the other Celtiberians, distinguishing them from the more genuine and unmixed Celts. That they were orig- inally all descended from the same race, is proved by the remains of their language, names, and customs. The manners of the Celts, and especially their religious institutions, were peculiar. They had one supreme Deity whom they called Esus, and they performed their rites of adoration in the depths of forests, or surrounded by huge circles of stones, rough, unhewn, and placed upright. Their chief priests were the Druids, a race set apart among them for conducting the public worship, as well as for preserving the knowledge of their laws and histo- ries. These were usually couched in poetry, which the Druids connnitted to memory, and recited at their periodical meetings and festivals. These Druids seem to have erected one of the most art- iiil and complete systems of prieslh<)od which the world 1* 10 THE BARDS. ever saw. The authority permitted to magistrates, kings, or princes, according to the constitution of the community, was always held to be sanctioned and delegated by the priests, and the government was always directed by their opinion. Tiiey had absolute influence over the gentry of the tribe, to whom they gave the epithet of riders, oi horse-men, the value of a warrior being always raised by the possession of a horse. Human sacrifices were fre- quently ©fFered up, under a mistaken impression, that we ought to present to the Deity what our race holds most dear, which undoubtedly is the principle of human life. The Bards were a class of men only inferior to the Druids in importance. Music and poetry were eagerly cultivated by the Gauls. These national poets sung hynms to their deity, and the praises of deceased war- riors ; and such was the affection of the people for these arts, that when, at a later period, it was the object to fix their attention upon the Scriptures, it was found the best method to translate the Sacred Writings into poetry, and set them to music. The government in Gaul was various among the differ- ent independent states, which, according as custom pre- vailed among them, were governed by kings, or by elec- tive magistrates. They were prom.pt and ready in battle ; a bold, fiery, warlike race, whose very women used to sustain the fight when the men were defeated, and who often slew themselves rather than surrender to an enemy. In appearance they were a handsome people ; bold in their manners, yet not untinctured with civility. They combed their hair forward, s,o as to give a wildness and ferocity to their aspect, wore tight trowseis and a loose mantle. Their chiefs wore a chain of gold, twisted out of flexible rods of that metal, such as children make out of bulrushes. IManlius, an ancient Roman, who killed a champion thus decorated, assumed from thence the addi- tional name of Torquatus, or him with the Chain. Be- sides this Torques, or Twist, as it was called, the Gauls woni bracelets, and ornaments round the ankle, and the weallhy had them made of the same precious metal, EMIGRATION OF THE GAULS 11 The Gauls carried hospitality to strangers to the utinosj extent. They were profuse in eating, and still more in the use of strong liquors. The Romans accused them of being fickle, uncertain, and treacherous to their en- gagements. But they were probably not more so than the Romans themselves. We have mentioned that the nation of Gaul, or rather the infinity of small states into which it was divided, were so very populous, that, when their numbers seemed about to exceed the means of subsistence produced by their imperfect agriculture, great colonies of them depart- ed from their native country, with a view to provide themselves new settlements at the expense of some richer or more thinly peopled region. In this manner the Gauls, in olden times, were fre- quently troublesome neiglibours to the Romans, sur- mounting the Alps, and extending themselves to Lombar- dy, where they established strong colonies. They frequently invaded the southern parts of Italy, acquired lands there, and under their general, Brennus, burnt and pillaged the city of Rome itself, three hundred and eighty- five years before the Christian era ; they were, however, obliged to retreat from the citadel, or Capitol, and were finally defeated by the Dctator Camillus. The Gauls also rendered themselves formidable at a later period, by an invasion of Greece under a second general of the name of Brennus, who seized upon the treasures which had been stored up by the devotion of ages, in the cele- brated Temple of Apollo at Delphos. In these excur- sions, you must not conceive that the Gallic invaders acted as the forces of one united kingdom, but rather as an assembly of independent bands belonging to the vari- ous states, cities, and communities, into which the coun- try was subdivided, convoked for a time under a single chief, to whom the rest yielded the supreme authority, as to the most powerful or the most skilful in war. The rapine of these desultory hosts was the more dreaded and execrated, that from their religious principles turning on the worship of one only Deity., whom liiey 12 THE GAUL9 FORMIDABLE TO ROME. adured in the depths of forests, and not in houses made with human hands, they were in the habit of dishonour- ing and destroying the temples and ahars of other nations. Nor was their conduct in battle less formidable than their principles were obnoxious. The Gauls were famous for tlieir bravery and love of war, which they carried so far, that they accounted it cowardice to make use of de- fensive armour, and rushed upon the spears of their ene- mies with undefended bosoms. This contempt of pre- caution was joined with other faults, which exposed them to great loss in regtdar actions with the experienced Romans ; yet, so dangerous were they, from their great numbers, and the fury of their assault, undisciplined as it was, that Cicero declares, that had not the passage of the Alps, by which alone they could reach Italy, been too difficult, and had not the mountains possessed too few means of sustenance for the passage of a Galhc army in its full numbers, that nation must have destroyed the city of Rome itself, even before its greatness was established. On this account, according to the opinion of Cicero, the Gauls, until the conquests of Julius Ctesar, continued to be the most obstinate and formidable enemies of the Romans. So generally were they considered as such, that in the celebrated conspiracy of Catihne, it was partly the intention of the plotters to have drawn from Gaul a considerable force for the execution of their purpose, which comprehended nothing less than the total destruc- tion of the Roman form of government. The Gauls, indeed, did not snatch at this bait ; certain ambassadors of the Allobroges, a people of Savoy in alliance with Rome, having informed the Consul Sanga of the proposals which had been made to them, materially assisted the discovery of the plot. Nevertheless, the risk of their future interference with other internal feuds of the same nature, was a secret reason for urging the subjugation of this powerful people. The Romans also possessed one small province in Gaul, in which they claimed a special and peculiar inter- est. It was more than a century befo: Christ's birth. DISSENSIONS OF THE GAULS. 13 that the Consul Marclus Rex took one step towards the subjection of Gaul, by establishing a Roman colony between the Pyrenean chain of mountains and the city of Toulouse, where he founded the state called Narbonne. Ti)is colony was connected with Italy by a military road between the Alps and Pyrenees, and afforded, as you will presently see, most of the pretexts which tlie Republic brought forward for interferino; with the affairs of Gaul. The protection of the Allobroges, and other states in the neighbourhood of the province who had embraced the friendship of Rome, formed a perpetual apology for such hitermeddling. Thus the conquest of Gaul, though undoubtedly Caesar was encouraged in the attempt by the hope of adding to the power and renown of the Republic, and raising him- self in the opinion of his fellow-citisens, was, in a cer- tain degree, founded on state necessity. But, besides the ordinary reasons for which Rome took up arms, grounds of serious political envy and hatred impelled the conquer- ors of the world to make a war of subjection on a people who were always restless neighbours, and occasionally dangerous enemies. In Csesar, the Romans enjoyed the advantage of a general e/|ually wise and skilful, and who, considering his own ambitious views as inseparably connected with the conquest and final subjection of Gaul, neglected no means of accomplishing an object so much desired by his coun- trymen, and so essential to his own fortunes. The principal circumstance which afforded exercise for Julius Caesar's political sagacity, and a pretext at the same time for his military exploits, was the subdivision of this great country into a numberless variety of cities, gov- ernments, and states, trespassing almost always on each other, and engaged in endless and complicated feuds, which perpetually called for, or at least served to excuse, the interference of the Roman general, who, while he pretended to ad locate the rights, and protect the cause, of such Galhc nations as were the allies of Rome, failed 14 INVASION OF GAUL. not to seize the opportunity of destroying Dne i;late by the arms of another, of which his Conimeataries, as ycu are ah-eady aware, afford a most cm'ious, as w^ell as' ele- gant narrative. A singular resolution on the part of the Helvetians, a Gallic tribe of great numbers and bravery, afforded the Romans the first opportunity and apology for armed in- terference in the affairs of Gaul. This nation vve]-e the more hostile to the Romans, that they had, at no distant period, defeated a considerable army of the Republic, forced them to lay down their arms, and only spared their lives on condition of their passing beneath the yoke, ac- counted at the time an acknowledgment of the most ab- ject surrender. One of Caesar's own relatives had shared in this degradation. The habit of emigration was tlien so general, that the spirit of local attachment, which is at this day one of the strongest principles of the modern Swiss, had no weight Avith the ancient Helvetians. With tlie same impatience which had formerly induced their Celtic forefathers to change their position from one place to another, the Hel- vetians determined to quit the barren mountains where they were born, and march forth in a body to estabhsh, by fair means or by force, new settlements in other re- gions. After some feuds among themselves, which ter- minated in the death of a great chief, named Orgetorix, with whom the design of emigration originated, the Hei- vetii set forth as a nation upon their adventurous expedi- tion. Turning their backs, as they designed, for ever, on their native valleys and mountains, they burnt their towns, tweh'e in number, with forty villages, and, with their wives and children, cattle and slaves, set out upon their extraordinary adventure. In our day, hardly ar.y thing could be accounted so strange as the resolution of a nation to leave its own familiar abode, and set forth on a vague pxpedition to settle in foreign parts But, at the period 1 mention, fifty-eight years before the birth of our Saviour, this wandering people had little of what we now call love of their native land, and willingly undertook the WARS AMONG TUIu GALLIC TRIBES. 15 labour and lisk of such a journey, in the hardy confidence, that they would easily find a country more pleasant and fertile than their own barren regions^ and that they could scarcely be obliged to encounter, in defence of it, a na- tion of more bravery and warlike temper than they were conscious of bringing along with them. An incursion so bold as that which the Helvetians pro- posed, the Romans had a fair pretence for resisting ; the more, as the Helvetians proposed to march into Gaul itself through the territory of the Allobroges, whom we have already mentioned as allies of the Romans, and near neighbours to the Roman province, and of course under the protection of the Repubhc. At this extraordinary intelligence, Csesar, who had been lately appointed Prajtor, set off with the utmost speed froni Rome, to look after the pressing affairs of the Gal- lic province which had been committed to his charge. Here he defended the frontiers of the Allobroges by raising a long wall, fianked with towers, hastily erected, indeed, but with such judgment, that the Helvetians did not venture to attack it. The expatriated nation being obliged to change their line of march, had only one road remaining, which led into Gaul through the territory of the Sequani, now called Burgundy. This road, running among cliffs and torrents, was judged totally inaccessible without the con- sent of the Sequani themselves ; but by the intercession of Dumnorix, a chief of the jEduans, a people whose terri- tory lay near Autun, the Helvetians obtained permission to pass through the defiles of the Burgundians unop- posed, so that they might afterwards march in a direction whicli should enable them to approach the ancient Tolo- satium, now Toulouse. By this movement the Roman province was highly endangered. The j3ilduans, friends, if not allies of the Romans, were mortal enemies of the Se- quani, and besought assistance from Cassar against the Stream of Helvetians, who were thus poured into their territory. Cajsar hastened the motions of his army, for the purpose of interceptmg the proposed march of the 16 WARS AMONG THE GALLIC TRIBES. Helvetians, and preventing the threatened devastation of Gaul. So rapid were his movements, that finding the rear of their army, consisting of one-fourth of the whole, still encamped on the eastern banks of the Arar, or Saone, though the other three-fourths had passed the river, he fell upon the rearmost division, thus separated from their main body, surpi'ised and cut them to pieces, astonishing the invaders not less with this unexpected blow, than with the activity with which he constructed, in a single day, a bridge to pass his army across the Arar, although the task had occupied the barbarians twenty days. After he had crossed the river, Cajsar detected the treachery of Dumnorix, but forgave it, in consideration of the fidelity to the Romans exhibited by his brother Divitiacus. He then engaged in a decisive battle with the main body, of the f Helvetians, whom, after a severe contest, he defeated with much slaughter. The Helvetians, sub- mitted to tlie conqueror, and by Csesar's order re- turned to their ancient possessions, excepting only one tribe, called the Boii, who, at the intercession of the JSdui, were permitted by that tribe to settle in the territory of Autun, their junction being considered as a decided advantage. Juli'is Caesar having thus established the terror of his name by the conquest, and almost the annihilation of the warlike Helvetians, was soon called to undertake a war, which, according to the belief of the Gauls, brought him in contact with adversaries still more formidable. Of this he was informed in a private council held by the Jildui. They acquainted him, that, according to the custom of the Gauls, who were constantly divided among themselves, a long feud had existed between them (the Ji^duans) on one hand, and on the other the Sequani, already frequently mentioned, as well as another power- ful tribe, called the Arverni, a people situated on the Loire, and who were united w^ith the Sequani against the ^dui. Finding that their combined strength was unable to conquer the jEdui, these tribes agreed to call to tiieii Bssistance the warlike German nations which inhabited CHARACTER OF THE GOTHIC TRIBES. 11 the opposite side of the Rhine, where that river bounded the country of the Gauls. I must here briefly remind you, that though a part ol Germany had been originally settled by the Celtic tribes, yet the successors of these first colonists had been at a subsequent period subdued, or banished, by a people so diiferent in manners, language, religion, and even in form and countenance, as to present in their general appear- ance all the qualities of a different race. This great and most important division of mankind, finally constituted the grand source from which the modern nations of Eu- rope have derived their principal materials of population, and the peculiarities of their several governments. They were generally termed Goths, having among themselves a great variety of distinctive names. They spoke anoth- er language, differing from and opposed to that of the Celts, insomuch that some wTiters have held them alto- gether different. They are found, however, by more accurate inquirers, so far connected as to warrant their being referred to a common source, at a period probably previous to the remarkable event described in Scripture as the Confusion of tongues. The Goths did not follow the religion of the Celtic tribes, nor were they acquainted with the order of the Druids, neither did they acknowl- edge the existence or worship of Esus, the one and only deity of the Gauls. They worshipped the sun and the moon, to which they added several imaginary deities. They were much attached to the arts of divination, and as these were chiefly used by the matrons of the tribe, the females received, from this cause, as well as others presently to be mentioned, a degree of honour seldom paid to them by the males of barbarous tribes ; who gen- erally devolve on their women all labour save those of hunting and war. This race of Goths possessed some qualities, which, in the eyes of barbarians, are of high value. They were large-limbed, tall, and of great personal strength, having generally red hair and blue eyes. Their chiefs only 941 IS GOTHIC TRIBES OF GERMANY. enjoyed command during the time of war, and a species of princes, called kings by the Romans, were elected as lijeir judges during peace; each of these magistrates had a council of one hundred persons, supported by the pub- lic. Their women, who held a high rank amongst them, were remarkable for their chaste and honourable charac- ter ; and as no one was allowed to marry until he wa? onc-and-twenty at least, their young men looked forward with anxiety and hope to a jieriod when they should un- dertake the duties and dignities of men, and in the mean- while practised those habits of patient restraint and sub- dued, passions, which made them fit for the duties of manhood, when the period should arrive that they were permitted to assume the situation of a husband and a father. The women, on their part, finding themselves the universal objects of respect and attention, were anx- ious to assume a higher and more lofty character in soci- ety, than is usually assigned to females in the savage state. They partook in the toils and dangers of war, accompanied their husbands in their expeditions, and when the battle was irretrievably lost, they often, by slaying themselves and their children, gave dreadful ex- amples that they preferred deatli to slavery. The character of these Gothic tribes liad something superior even to that of the Gauls ; braver they could hardly be, but in war they were more steady, more per- severing, could better endure the fatigues of a long and doubtful fight ; and if inferior to the Gauls and other Celtic nations in the fury of a headlong onset, they pos- sessed powers of keeping their ground, and rallying which rendered the event of the day doubtful, even after a long struggle. We can dimly perceive, by tlie history of ancient times, that the approach of these Goths from the east gradually overpowered and subdued the Celtic colonies who occupied Germany ; some penetrating northwards into Scandinavia, while others rolled their emigration rather to the south and east, till their course was checked by the mountainous regions of Switzerland and the Tyrol, and by the broad course of the Rhine c;esak defeats ariovistus. 19 It followed, as a matter of course, that the fair re^-ions of Gaul beyond this great river should become objects of covetousness to the Germans, whose crops were raised with difiiculty, and who were as much strangers to wine as they wei-e enamoured with the occasional use of it. It is not tlierefore wonderful, that the Germans, under the command of a powerful and haughty chief, named Ario- visius, shoidd have willingly accepted the invitation of the Arverni and Sequani, to cross the Rhine, as 1 have told you, to support them against the ^dui ; nor was it surprising that Cajsar, foreseeing the danger of permit- ting these martial people to establish settlements beyond the great river which had hitherto been their barrier, willingly inrpiired into the nature of their proceeding, with the purpose of putting a stop to it. He soon learned that Ariovistus and the Germ s had already taken from the Sequani one third of their territory, and occupied the lands with his people, while he demanded a third more for the acconmiodaiion of reinforcements, which were about to join him from Germany. ^A'lien Cicsar applied to Ariovistus to know why he as- saulted and injured the allies of the Roman people, the German |)rince returned him the contemptuous answer, that he was yet to learn what pretence Cssar or the Ro- mans could have for interfering with his operations in Gaul. The liomans marched against this new enemy ; but the Gauls raised such exaggerated reports concern- ing the strength and ferocity of the Germans, that they spread a sort of panic even among the legionary troops themselves. C;esar, by his address and eloquence, put a stop to this mutiny of the troops. He declared that he himself woidd proceed on the expedition, though only the Tenth LcLnon should attend him. This select body of men wcve flattered by the praise and confidence of their general, while the rest called out to be led against the Germans. Caesar then marched against Ariovistus, and alter some mauiTuvres, forced the German prince to come to an ac- tion, in which he routed his whole army with much 20 END OF Cesar's wars in gauij. slaughter, eighty thousand Germans falling, and Ariovia tus himself escaping with great difficulty across the Rliine. By this decisive victory over the Germans, to whom the Gauls yielded the superiority in valour, the reputation of the Roman general was so highly raised, that it ena- bled him to assume the situation most convenient for re- ducing the whole country to obedience, which was the ultimate purpose to which he directed his schemes and interest. He became, or constituted himself, judge in the numerous quarrels which took place amid so many independent states. His decisions encouraged wars amongst them, which he so managed that the victory always fell to the side on which the Roman eagles were ranked. The Belgae, a people of Gaul, who occupied modern Flanders, were the first to see in this supremacy of the Roman general, the future seeds of absolute sub- jugation. This people, residing nearest to the Germans, and probably being rather of German than Gallic descent, were remarkable above the proper Gauls for their cour- age and skill in war. Yet their alliance against the Ro- mans was only the means of weakening their country by repeated invasions, and very bloody defeats, which in- creased the fame of Caesar's arms, and rendered the othei nations careful how they provoked a contest with a peo- ple whose attacks the most powerful nations of Gaul had proved unequal to sustain. But although it was easy for Cassar to maintain the of- fice of a Governor of Gaul for a short time, yet the tem- per of that people, equally fierce and fickle, was scarcely subdued, or the country, as a Roman would have said, half pacified, before they were again forming plans and alliances together for the purpose of throwing off the yoke of Rome. Ten years of the active life of Caesar were spent in constant labour to reduce Gaul to the con- dition of a Roman province, but for a long time with very little success ; for no sooner did there appear a show ol tranquillity, than it became the signal of wider combina- tions agamst the foreigners than had taken place before. FND OF CJESAr's WARS IN GAUL. 21 It was in vain that Caesar laid aside the cleniency which he practised, both from policy, and as most a^a-eeable to his own temper. It was in vain, that in one action the river Aisne was so filled up and gorged with the dead bodies of the Gauls, that the corpses served as a bridge to their comrades who escaped from the slaughter. The victory only led to a more terrible obstinate struggle with the Nervii and other Belgic clans. Fifty thousand of a nation called Aduatici were sold at once for slaves. All these, and other severities, did not prevent a more pow- erful and almost universal insurrection against the Ro- mans, in which the Mdin themselves, the constant friends of Rome, wearied out by exactions of various kinds, did not refuse to join. The chief of the league, whose name was Vercingetorix, after many brave exploits, wj^s at length made prisoner, and Cassar remained finally tri- umphant. The wars of Gaul, of which this is a very hasty and imperfect review, terminated by the storming of a very strong fortress, called Uxellodunum, where Csesar cruelly commanded the right hands of all the garrison who were fit to bear arms to be struck ofF. The nature of the labours undergone by Caesar will best appear from Plutarch's catalogue of his victories. " In less than ten years, during the Gallic war," says that biographer, " Caisar took more than eighty cities by storm, subdued three hundred states or communities, and fought upon different occasions with no less than thirteen mil- lions of men, one million of whom had fallen into captivity, and another had been taken captive and driven into slave- ry." The marvel in this report will be greatly dimin- ished, if the reader recollects that Cassar seldom encoun- tered one nation of Gauls without the aid of auxiliaries, money, and provisions from the others with whom he was in alliance at the time ; and thus, though it was the tal- ents of the Roman general which conducted the cam- paign, yet, considering the actual character of the soldiers engaged, Gaul was principally overcome by the disunion of he'^ own native forces. 22 SUBJECT OF THE NEXT CHAPTER. In the 49lh year before the Christian era, Caesar re* turned to Rome to exercise aj^ainsl the liberties of his own counirynien, those troops, and that disci[)line, which had been so admirably formed during ten years' wars against the Gauls. In this manner, Providence makes our own crimes the means of bringing on f)ur punishnient. The unjust ambition of the Romans was the proximate cause ol their own loss of freedom. The effects produced upon Gaul by the con(juesl of the Romans, will form the sub- ject o! the next chapter, which will bring us down to the time when the reviving free spirit of Europe began to burst asunder, and cast from her the fetters of Rome ; or rather, when Rome herself, who had deprived so many nations of their freedom, and who had so absolutely lost her own, found she had at the same time lost her hardihood, lier discipline, and her ])oweis of conHict, and lay expos- ed at the niercy of her own armies, like the fabl.ed liun- t=!r to the attack of his own houads. VOLlCy OF THK ROMANS- 23 CHAPTER II. Policy of the Romans towards the Conquered Tribes — Human Sacrifice Forbidden — Polytheism Introduced — Human Victims Secretly Sacrificed by the Druids — Plans of Insurrection agitated at these Solemnities — Combination among the Gallic Provinces against Rome — Expedition of Drusus — Insurrection of Vin- dex in JVero^s time — lis Suppression — Persecution oj Christians in Gaul in the reign of Severus — Origin of the Franks — Inroads of the Franks into the Ro- man Provinces in the time of Posthumiis and Gallif- nus — The Jill emanni Defeated, and Peace for a time Restored to Gavl, by Julian the Apostate — Radagai- sus, King of the Goths, invades Italy, is taktn Cap- tive xvith part of his Army — The rest of his Forces Invade and Ravage Gaul. When Rome seized upon the dominions of an inde- pendent state, she usually prevailed on the suffering par- ty to rest satisfied with some mess of pottage, like Esau in the Scriptures, in place of what may be justly termed the most precious birthright of humanity, excepting that spiritual benediction which the eltiest born of Jacob so rashly exchanged for a dish of food. I-iome professed to give to the conquered state?; her pro- tection, her acknowledgment of the authority of their magistrates, with perhaps a golden diadem, a curule cliair of ivory, or some other emblem of more show than use ; the true sense of which toys iinplied, that lue laws, ordi- nances, and authorities of th.e once free country could not now be said to exist, unless in so far as they were acknowl- edged by Rome. The various cities, states, or provinces throughout Gaul, were all subjected to Rome ; but the servile connexion they bore to her varied according to the cin umstances of surrend'er. Some cities or common 24 HUMAN SACRIFICE FORBIDDEN. wealths were permitted to retain the name of freedom ; others were termed confederates of the Roman -»eople ; while others were reduced to the condition of a province, to which a Roman governor was appointed, with full power over the property and persons of the unhappy na- tives. But in all those cases, whether the subju.gated Gauls were mocked with the name of freemen or confed- erates, or called in plain terms subjects, the Roman le- gions alike occupied their strongholds. A capitation tax was levied for the benefit of the Republic, and the chil- dren of the soil, forcibly arrayed as soldiers, were made to serve in different countries, so that, having lost their own freedom, they might be used as tools to deprive other nations of theirs. But the vain and imaginary distinctions, comprehended in these various orders of subjugation, were soon entirely melted down, and merged into sixteen grand divisions, called provinces, which, it is believed, was an arrange- ment made under the reign of Augustus ; for so short a time were the Romans disposed to abide by the veil of decency with which they themselves had in the com- mencement thought it necessary to disguise their conquest. What, then, you may be tempted to ask, did the con- quered Gauls obtain in exchange for the right of manag- ing their own affairs, which the Romans had wrested from them ? In reply, it cannot be denied that the coin in which the Republic of Rome paid for her aggressions was not all false money. It was her boast to extend some de- gree of civilization among the prostrated vassals of her empire, and to impress on them a milder species of spir- itual liies than that which had animated them in their days of savage freedom. With this view, the abominable mode of worship by human sacrifice was forbidden throughout the Gallic states, so soon as they had bent the knee to Rome. In abolishing this wretched and barba- rous custom, whatever might be the intention of the Ro- mans, there can be no doubt that the morals of the peo- ple were proportionally amended. Nor, when it is con- sidered what a species of priestcraft was exercised by the POLYrHEISM INTRODUCED. 25 Druids, and bow much they strove to keep their votaries in ignorance in order to increase tlieir oun power, can we blame the means by wliich the Romans endeavoured to diminish that power, ahhough the actual cause of their doing so was the reiterated efforts of this peculiar priest- hood to inflame their countrymen against the yoke of the conquerors. But if the injunctions of Rome were highly laudable in prohibiting the practice of human sacrifices, and were in a great measure salutary, as they tried to loosen the fet- ters which an ambitious priesthood had fixed on the peo- ple, other innovations which they introduced upon the Gallic creed were of a different nature, and tended to deprive them of their primitive worship, which, although erroneous, was founded upon the grand sytem of acknowl- edging one sole divinity. -The Druids resisted these in- novations at first with tolerable success, for it is said that no temples were built in Gaul until the time of Tiberius, when a general tax, or census, over the whole country, was proposed at Rome, and only abandoned on the chiefs of Gaul consenting to erect a temple to the memory of Ca3sar, and for the adoration of Augustus. Thus, as as- sociates in the throne of the single deity, Esus, in whom, no doubt, they recognised, though imperfectly, the unity and power of the Creator of all things, were placed that very Julius Caesar, who had been the invader and tyrant of their own country, and that Augustus himself, the cruelties of whose early life were combined with the brutal pollutions of his later years. Polytheism, or a variety of deities, being thus intro- duced into Gaul, that belief took root and throve among that people to a most wonderful degree. The rich ex- hausted themselves in building temples, some to the gods recognised by the Romans, but fancifully distinguished by other epithets and attributes ; and others to imaginary deities, whom they had sanctified according to their own wild fancy. Another melancholy part attending this per- version to the grossest errors of paganism, w^s, thai 2 VOL. I. 4th Ser. 2(J HUMAN SACRIFICE FORBIDDEN. wliilst tlie Gauls imbibed all the superstitions oi" ido atrj and polytheism, and renounced the approach which they had made to the grand truth, that the world was created and governed by one great being, they retained at the same time their custom of human sacrifice. These infernal rites, the worst part of the original wor- ship of the Druidical system, the Gauls continued to prac- tise in secret, in defiance of the edicts of the Emperors for abolishing it, thus perversely retaining what was in- human and cruel in their original system, and adopting from that of their victors the whole childish puerilities of a superstition wiiich the Romans had been borrowing for so many centuries fi-on"! every country, whenever any thing could be found to interweave into their own creed. But it must not be supposed that the human victims of the Druidical system were, after the conquest of Gaul, -exe- cuted in the temples which they had erected after the fashion of the Romans. It would appear that animals alone were sacrificed within these new places of worship ; nor is it natural to believe that the Gauls should trangress the edict of the conquerors, under the eye of their gar- risons, or governors. The people, who, looking back to the days of their freedom, desired to worship as they had formerly worshipped, met by appointment in some dark recess of unfrequented "woods, under the direction of the Druids, who resumed, at such secret conclaves, the power which they were no longer permitted to exercise in pub- lic. Bearing on their head the coronet of oak leaves, whicli they esteemed sacred — clad in white robes, as was their custom, the ancient priests then met the people in the deep forest, to adore in secrecy and silence, accord- ing to the bloody rites of their forefathers. The victim who fell under the axe of the sacrificing pontiff', or who, sometimas bound to a tree, was shot to death with arrows, was usually a criminal who had desi^rved death, or some individual of small account, who had been kidnapped and reserved for this inhuman purpose. A other times, it was a voluntary victim, who offered himself as an expia' lory offering for the sins of the people, like the scape- HUMAN SACRIFICK. "t goat of the Israelites. When an individual could be ivrciight up to such a point of insane ])atii«tism, the Druids announced to him, as his reward, eternal happiness in the society of tlie gods, to propitiate whom, he con- sented to suffer death ; and the people, if cii'cumstances permitted, took care that he whose sacrifice was to be th.e pi'ice of the public prosperity, should, for some time be- fore his death, taste of as many of the pleasures of tliis life as they had the means of procuring him. His death then took place by the hand of the consecrated Druids. They observed every circumstance of his mortal agony : the manner in which he fell ; the course of his blood down the rugged fi'ont of the sacred stone : and from these cir- cumstances affected to divine how far the deity was pro- pitious to their designs. It may be well believed that, at these secret meetings, the occasional return of the Gauls to the barbarous rites of their Celtic ancestors, the bards were also called in to assist, by music and melody, the im- pression which was made on the assistants by the elo- quence and mystic predictions of the priests. The themes naturally chosen were the ancient glory of Gaul and her inhabitants, who, having been long the terror of distant countries, were now found unable to protect their own against the Romans. The feelings of the hearers, a na- tion readily excited, passionately fond of fame, their pre- judices easily acted upon by the gloomy fanaticism of their priests, and their quick fierce tempers, resentful of the injuries received from the Romans, became much agitated by such solemnities, and it was not to be wondered at that general schemes of revolt were laid or extended at such meetings. Besides these internal plans of insurrection against the foreign yoke, the vicinity of the free Germans, and their incursions and conquests upon the Gallic territory, were another vexation which instigated the inhabitants to re- volt. The Gauls had a right to complain, that while the Romans assumed the title of their masters^ and drained the provinces of the youth with whom they could have iK3 EXPEDITION OF DEUSUS. maintained their own defence, they left them e rposeJ tn the inroads of a barbarous and formidable enemy. These dissensions produced very general convulsions througiiout Gaul, in the year 741, after the foundation of Rome. The various states and principalities of tlje whole sixteen subdivisions or provinces, connnunicated and com- bined together. Drusus, who was sent by the emperor to still these commotions, had art and authority sufficient to convoke all the Gallic chiefs and principal magistruies at Lyons, under pretence of dedicating the temple to Augustus, which we have already noticed. — Here, by promises and actual benefits, he managed to disconcert the plot of the disaffected. And as he proceeded across the Rhine, and repulsed the Germans, the time when the Gauls might have at least shaken off the Roman yoke passed away in inactivity. In the year of the Christian era 78, during the reign of the tyrant Nero, an opportunity occurred, when tlie Gauls, by the rise of an enterprising leader, were very near ac- complishing their often meditated project of successful insurrection. The leader, according to Dion Cassius, named Caius Julius Vindex, was the son of a Romanized Gaul, whose father had become a Roman senator. He was descended from the line of one of the ancient kings of Aquitaine, endowed with great strength of body, and wisdom ; above all, an accomplished soldier. Availing himself of the cruel exactions with which the tyrant then oppressed Gaul, Vindex, who was governor of Celtic Gaul, ascended the tribunal, and in an animated oration denounced the vices of Nero, his cruelties, his in- famies, the death of his mother by his orders, and the crimes which to this day cling to his memory, as one of the most depraved monsters that ever existed, tie called upon his hearers, not to rise in insurrection against the Roman empire, but to combine for the more limited pur- pose of removing Nero from the government. The peo- ple, being already greatly exasperated, took arms at this exhortation, and Vindex was soon at the head of a tundred thousand men. It is said that Nero ^vas lather pleased INSURRECTION AND DEATH OF VINJEX. 29 Uiati alarmed by this formidable insurrection, conceiving it would afford his treasury great weaUh from the forfeit- ed estates of the insurgents. He placed a reward of two hundred and fifty myriads of drachms upon the head of Vindex. When this was told to the daring leader, he re- plied, " To whomsoever will deliver to me the head of Nero, I will be contented to resign my own life in return, for having destroyed so great an enemy of the human race." But of all Vindex's reproaches, Nero was most moved by that in which the Gallic insurgent called him a wretched fiddler. Leaving the topic of his mother's death, and similar horrors, he complained bitterly to the Roman people of the aspersions thrown out against his taste and power as a musical performer ; and, that the Ro- mans might judge how little they were deserved, he in- troduced a voluntary or two into the oration which he delivered on that occasion. Meantime, Virgilius Rufus, a Roman general who com- manded on the banks of the Rhine, advanced against Vindex. It was thought the two commanders would ha\e come to an understanding ; but the armies approaching each other, skirmishes ensued, which led to a general ac- tion, in which Vindex was defeated, with the loss of twen- ty thousand men. Hurried on by a species of despair, of which the ancient Romans were but too susceptible, the defeated general killed himself just before the time of Nero's dethronement and death. After the death of Vindex, there is little worthy of no- tice in the history of Gaul, except that, like other ])ro- vinces of the empire, it suffered the most severe and ty- rannical exactions at the hands of the Roman governors : and that the generals who commanded there often as- sumed the purple, and gave place, by their ambition, to wars, of which Gaul became the scene. The Gauls were, for example, among the first to recognise as ernpeior the celebrated Scptimius Severus, who, in beginning his career nf ambition, was governor of the province of Lyons. The last scene of the civil wars which completed the elevation so ORIGIN OF THE FRANAS. of Severus to tlie imperial throne, was the defeat of his rival Albinus, at a place called Timurieum, about twenty leagues from Lyons. A severe, but local persecu'tion of the Christians disturbed Gaul under the reign of this able emperor, who was indignant at a Christian soldier v.iio refused to wear a crown or coronet, delivered to bin) as a donation, agreeably to the command of bis general, but which a religious dread of committing idolatry- proliibited hirn from making use of. St. Irenaeus, the bishop of Lyons, fell, among other martyrs, about the year of God 202. As the Roman empire began now to totter towards its fall, different barbarous nations, whom by force of arms she had first compelled to retire from her boundaries, be- gan to thicken around her, in some instances with the pur- pose of mere ravage and plunder, in others, with the more resolved intent of making conquests and settlements with- in the imperial territory. Tin-ee of the nations or coalitions of tribes, who had regarded Gaul as their natural conquest, require to be distinguished from each other. The most remarkable, from their becoming the corner stone of the great monarchy to which they afforded a name, are the Franks, the undoubted founders of the present kingdom of France. From whence the people were derived, whose memory has been preserved by such distinction, has been the subject of much discussion. In olden times, a fanciful origin was imagined for the Franks, which England had also adopted, namely, that they claimed their descent from the Trojans of classical antiquity. At a later period, Pannonia and Gaul were fixed upon as the native country of the Franks. But a more probable opinion has gained ground in later days, which has been generally recomn^ended by its simplicity. Tiie Germans, the most formidable enemies of Rome since the days of Ccesar, repeatedly defeated by the discipline of tlie Romans, but always resisting them, and often vic- torious in their turn, are supposed, about the middle of the third century, to have formed a new associatiop OT alliance among their eastern tribes, for the purposp of THE ALLEMANNI. 31 mutual defence, to which, in token of their love of hber ly, and their resolution to maintain it, they gave the namo of Franks, or Freemen, though each tribe was individu- ally known from the others by its own name. In this confederacy, they at first acknowledged no supreme head, nor was authority assumed by any one state over the otiiers. The purest equality, and the plan of acting for each other's mutual support, seem to have been at once the object and tlie conditions of the confederacy. This formidable people commenced a set of furious incursions upon Gaul, which the Romans, under Gallienus and Posthumus, endeavoured to repel, in a long series of bloody wars, and in which both parties unquestionably sustained great losses. The province itself suffered greatly from the military operations, being necessarily exposed to the ravages of both parties, wheth.er Romany or Franks. Indeed, notwithstanding the opposition of Gallienus and Posthumus, the south-eastern provinces of Gaul were so cruelly ravaged, that they afforded lit- tle spoil to the invaders ; so that latterly the Franks only used them as a road to the Pyrenees, and from thence into Spain, which, unharasseu as yet by similar invasions, contained a spoil far more tempting. They even seized upon vessels, and crossed to Africa, wdiere tliey also found provinces plentiful of spoil, and colonies little acquainted with the art of war. The Franks, who thus laid waste by rapid excursions the provinces of the Roman empire, had yet a country which they called their own, w'here they resided, wlicn they chose for a time to abide at rest. To their original settlements on the eastern or German side of the Rhine they had added a considerable tract, called at that time Toxandria, which appears to have comprehended great part of the present province of Brabant, their habitations being in woods and morasses, or on the adjacent banks of lakes and rivers, as they could best surround them with rude fortifications, formed out of the trunks of trees. The Allemanni were another and separate association, resenibling that of the Franks, and instituted ipon simi 32 JULIAN THE APOSTATE. lar principles. The Suevi formed the strength of this confederation ; a tribe so much esteemed for courage by the neighbouring nations, that the Germans told Caesar even the immortal gods could scarcely match them in fight. This brave people comprehended, besides, so many members, that they assumed the title of Allemanni, or All-men, to mark the comprehensive principle of general union on which their league rested. Besides making dis- tant and extensive excursions, one of which brought ihem almost to the city of Rome itself, which was in great danger of falling into their hands, they, like the Franks, had a fixed abode. This second confederacy of the German tribes had their settlements on the east- ern banks of the Upper Rhine ; and their vicinity was not less formidable to Gaul than that of the Franks, About the year 357, Julian, who, from his renouncing the Christian religion, obtained the hateful epithet of the Apostate, was sent, with very insufficient forces, to rescue Gaul from the ravages of the barbarians, and dis- charged his duty with unexpected success. He defeated the Allemanni in the battle of Strasburg, and after obtain- ing this victory, he crossed the Rhine three times, and upon each occasion took forts, won battles, or gained other successes ; so that Gaul was for a time relieved from the incursions of these barbarous enemies, and with the assistance of Julian, its towns were rebuilt, and its. pros- perity re-established. The historian Gibbon, who, from his enmity to the Christian religion, shows a great desire to make a hero out of Julian, has not, it is true, said more than enough in praise of his talents. But though certainly a prince of lively parts, and great personal activity, we cannot attrib' ute soundness of understanding to the man of education, who should prefer the mysterious jargon of Plato's phi- losophy, and the coarse polytheism of the heathen reli- gion, to the pure simplicity of the Gospel. The provinces of Gaul shared for some time the advan- tages procured by the active talents of Julian ; and it would seem, that although the Franks were celebraleH RADAGAJSUS INVADES ITALY. 33 for a rude and fickle temper, yet for a period of year;? they remained faithful to Rome; a fidelity which was probably purchased by occasional subsidies. They even resisted the strong temptation of an opportunity to break their alliance with the Romans, in the great invasion of Rhodagast, or Radagaisus, which may be said in its event altogether to have destroyed the very slight remains of the Roman empire, excepting in Italy itself. This barba- rian prince had collected an immense army from the shores of the Baltic sea, in which so many were sprung of pure Gothic descent, that the name of King of the Goths was generally, though inaccurately, given to their conmiander. The Vandals, the Suevi, the Burgundians, jomed his standard. But though the Western Emperor Honorius was a timid and inefiicient prince, his minister, Stilicho, a man of ambition, warlike skill, and political talent, with an army, the last apparently which he could raise, came upon the King of the Goths while he was engaged in the siege of Florence, and by a hasty circuin- vallation, surrounded the besiegers, who, in their turn were besieged, reduced to a starving condition, and obliged to surrender. But though Radagaisus and his host were made cap- tive, yet two-thirds of his original forces, amounting to one hundred thousand men, were still in arms in the north of Italy. It is said that Stilicho insinuated to them the advice to attack Gaul, as perhaps the only means b}' which he could relieve Italy of such unwelcome guests. They took the hint accordingly, and, ascending the Alps at different points, and approaching the Rhine on various quarters, appeared as invaders on the frontiers of Gaul. • In this exploit, those who attacked Gaul from the Ujiper Rhine experienced neither assistance nor op])Osition from the Allemanni. But the Vandals, whose great numbers had enabled, or perhaps obliged, them to separate from the barbaric host, approached the territories occu])ied by the Franks, on the lower part of the river. The Franks, faithful to their engagements with the Romans, advanced ?n arras to oppo^^e them and in the battle which ensued 843 34 SUCCESSIVE TRIBLS OF BARBARIANS, twenty thousand Vandals were slain. But the arrival of the Alani, another nation of barbarians, who came up during the coTifltct, compelled tlie Franks to retreat, and to desist from the defence of the river, to which their numbers were unequal. Without further opposition then, the roving barbarians, consisting of several tribes, the re- mains of thearmy of Radagaisus, crossed the Rhine, which was then frozen, and carried fire and sword into "the rich country, which had in a few years recovered from the devastations of the Franks and Allemanni, and reduced It again to a smoking desert, never more to assume the name of a civilized province of Rome, but to remain the theatre in which contending races of barbarians were to exercise themselves against each other in bloody conflict This invasion of Gaul took place in 407. CHAPTER III. Successive Tribes of Barbarians by whom Europe was overrun — the Celts its Original Settlers — Invasions of the Goths, Sarmatians, and Alani — Irruption of the Huns, who settle in the Eastern parts of Germany, — Wars of Attila with the Eastern Empire — League between JEtius, the Roman Patrician, and Theodoric, King of the Goths — Attila invades Gaul, and besic^res Orleans — ^tius and Theodoric advance against him," and defeat his Army in the Battle of Chalons — the ■ Victors suffer the Defeated. Army to retreat, unthout molestation — Death of Attila — Extinction of (he Wes- tern Empire — Erection of Italy into a Kingdom. Gaul could be no longer considerjed as an appendage tc tho Roman empire, if indeed the empire itself could be said still to exist. The province was filled witli tribes of barbarians of Gothic or Celtic descent,' carrying on de- sultory warfare with each other, which having neither a permanent result nor motive, becomes of as little conse- BY WHOM EUROPE WAS OVERRUN. 35 qupnce to history, as, to use an expression of Milton, the battles of the kites and the crows. The name of Rome was still used in these scenes of confusion ; i^tius, the minister and general of Valentinian III., a man of courage, doubtless, but who had no means to follow up his attempts to reclaim the province of Gaul from the barbarous hordes by which it had been ravaged, save by the arms of others yet more barbarous than those by which Gaul was over- run and occupied, made, nevertheless, by the aid of such auxiliaries, a considerable stand. We are compelled to notice one or two of the more imporiant nations, to whom some degree of settled government had given the appear- ance of a certain advancement in social life. The Franks are in this case to be peculiarly attended to, as in their descendants we must look for the origin of the powerful kingdom of France we have already s-een that they occupied both sides of the Rhine in its lower course, and at first opposed the remains of Radagaisus'g army, till overpowered by the joint force of the Vandals and the other hordes. The Franks seem then to have resolved to seize upon a share of the prize which ihey could no longer defend. They advanred their banners accordingly, and amidst the general confusion, found no difficulty in adding to their western frontier a large por- tion of territory, comprehending nearly two of the pras- torian governments, into sixteen of which the Romans had divided Gaul. At this period they had established kingly government by hereditary descent in the Merovin- gian family. These princes allowed their hair to descend in long curls over their shoulders, while the rest of the Franks shaved the hair on the back part of the head, from whence the Merovingian dynasty were entitled the Long-haired Kings. Their dominions extended as far westward as the eastern bank of the Somme. The Goths, meaning that part of them called Visigoths, or Western Goths, had established themselves in the pro- vince of Gascony, and the adjacent parts of Spain ; and their chief, Theodoric, a prince of great resolution, having been converted with his subjects to the Christian faitn, 36 INVASION OF THE i^UNS. had shown more wisdom and strength of mind than were usually the attributes of barbaric princes. With Theodo- ric, iEtius, the Roman general, made war, as one by whose arms Gaul was most likely to be detached from the empire. But a common enemy was appi'oaching, of a power so formidable as to compel both parties to unite in •■esisting him. The latter days of the Roman empire were marked by many of those emigrations upon a great scale, by which the nations who were put in motion were precipitated upon such as remained quiet, with the impulse of a river in inundation, overwhelming or bearing before them the settlements of former ages, and sometimes destroying all memory of their existence. Thus had one race succeed- ed another in Europe. The Celts had been its original settlers, the Goths, more strong, wise, and powerful, had driven this primitive people into the retreats of the moun- tains and valleys, where their remains are still to be found. The Sarmatian race also showed itself amid these succes- sive revolutions ; and the Alani, sometimes the scourge, sometimes the protectors, of the Roman provinces, were of the tliird great family, who were distinguished by a lan- guage and manners considerably different from those of the Goths, and their predecessors the Celts. But this unhappy period, the fourth and fifth centuries, was yet to see and suffer the remorseless rage of a fourth division of mankind, a race yet different from those by whom they had hitherto suffered. It seemed the will of Heaven, to punish perhaps the wickedness of the Roman people, that so fast as one horde of barbarians had begun to settle into peaceful inhabitants of the regions which the}^ had wasted, new bands were brought from the extremities of the earth to renew the devastations, which had become more infrequent ; and between the fresh invaders and their precursors, there was so little of connexion, or pos- sibility of alliance, that they did not even undcrs'and each other's language. A remarkable feature of this extraordinary course of events, was the unexpected ap INVASION OF THK HUNS. 37 j)oarance of a countless army of Asiatics on the borders of the still harassed Eastern Empire. This extraordinary emigration had arisen out of convul* sions so far to the eastward as the Great Wall, by which the Cliinese emperors endeavoured in vain to protect themselves against the Tartars of the desert. Whatever was the original cause of communicating a movement so general, it n)ust have been of a most formidable character, since it acted so widely upon the- bosom of the Great Desert. Myriads of the mounted Tartar tribes collected to- gether, dragging or driving on each other, and poured on to the westward, as if directed by the instinct of the lo- cust-swarm, which holds undeviatingly upon its destined track to the country which it is called to ravage and de- stroy. Wherever this tide of arnied emigration came, it struck universal terror. Their numbers were in them- selves great, and the velocity with which their equestrian habits enabled them to move, magnified them into innu- merable shoals. Nor was their external appearance less terrible than their numerical force. The Gothic and Ger- man tribes had shown the astonished provincials a strength of limb, and a loftiness of stature, seemingly beyond the usual growth. On the'other hand, the Huns, as these new invaders were called, were dwarfish in stature, and their limbs, though strongly formed, exhibited a disproportion to each other, whicli almost amounted to deformitv. Their countenances were of the cast commonly called Chinese; and their small sparkling eyes deep sunk beneath the §kull, were placed at a distance from each other on the extremities of an unnatural breadth of forehead, while a flat nose and a large mouth added peculiar hideousness tu the wild and frightful expression of the face. Their man-' ners were almost as horrible as their appearance. Under the arbitrary despotism of their chiefs, they became famil- iarized with all the evils which despotism usually teaches its subjects to inflict, and to submit to. Their mannei.s ' were altogether ferocious and brutal, and if we could im- plicitly trust the accounts transmitted to us, i'ew mortals 38 THE HUNS SETTLE IN EASTERN GERMANY. could more resemble demons in features and actions, than did these hordes of Tartar savages, who appeared in Europe towards the end of the fourth century. The Gothic tribes who inhabited the nortliern bank of the Danube, were the first to experience the furious at- tack of these new enemies, and were so much struck with terror, that, like one wave pursued by anothei', the body of the nation poured towards the banks of the Danube, and im})lored permission to cross that mighty barrier, and to take shelter under the protection of the Roman Empe- ror of the East, from the tide of barbarians wliicli were pouring upon them from the deserts of Tartary. The Goths were incautiously admitted to take refuge within the limits of the empire ; but as at the same time, the venal lieutenants of the frontier treated them with harshness and injustice, the incensed strangers became the most formi- dable enemies to its tranquillity. They never again left the territory of the Empire, but remained there, some- times in the character of avowed enemies, and at others in that of doubtful auxiliaries and friends, changing their re- lations as often as caprice or desire of gain could afford a motive for doing so. The Huns, whose approach had impressed so much ter- ror on the Goths, and constrained that redoubted nation to advance upon the Roman Empire, did not themselves take the same direction with the fugitives. They took undisturbed possession of Hungary, to which they gave their name, and of great part of eastern Germany. These fertile regions seemed sufficient for their wants, and what incursions they might make upon the Empire of the East, were not of a grand or terrific character. It may be con- jectured, that at this period the power of this wandering people was not combined under one general head, and that the thousand tribes of the Huns lived for the time each under the dominion of its own chief, in consequence of which the strength of the wliole nation was not readily brought to exert itself. But in 433, (A. D.) we find the forces of the Hans again con; bined under the guidance of one well quahfied to attila's invasion of gaux^. 39 use 8 power so tremendous. This was Attila, or Etj;e!l, a? he is called by German tradition, surnamed by his terrified contemporaries the Scourge of God. By the ferocious ac- tivity of his followers actively seconding his own natural disposition, he was enabled to make good the inhuman boast, that grass never grew on the spot over which he passed. His first wars were with the Eastern Einpii'e, from which he exacted a large yearly tribute, besides an extensive cession of territory, and obliged Theodosius, then Emperor of the East, to submit to tlie most humili- ating demands. His protection was eagerly sought after by ^tius, called the Patrician, already mentioned, who obtained, by the influence of the king of the Huns, the highest position of power and trust at the court of Theo- dosius. But /Etius forgot gratitude in the virtue of pat- riotism. Attila, after hesitating whether he should attack the Eastern or Western Empire, and after having insulted the weakness of both, determined at last to pour upon Gaul the tenors of a Tartar invasion. TEtius, so much was the pride of Rome fallen, could only attempt to defend the Roman province against the barbarians of the east, by forming an alliance with one of those nations of barbarians which issued from the north. I have already told you that the Visigoths, or Gotliic tribes of the west, were in possession of Aquitaine, and had fixed their capital at Toulouse. This powerful nation was commanded by Theodoric, the son of a king of the Goths, called Alaric, and the policy of ^tius induced him to obtain tl)e aid of the Gothic king for the defence of Gaul against the Huns. These Tartars advanced with all their tribes ; and Attila, whose policy, like that of most barbarians, consisted chief- ly in cunning and duplicity, flattered /Etius and Theodo- ric alternately with his friendship, and threatened them with his formidable enmity ; thus preventing them, foi a time, from combining their forces for the common safety, by suggesting to each that the peril respected the othei alone. While thus amusing Theodoric and ^Etius, Attila, by a march seldom equalled, passed from Hungary to Gaui, ■10 BATTLK OF CHALONS. crossed tlie Rhine by a bridge of boats, penetrated into the centre of the province of Gaul, which he wasted, and laid siege to the important town of Orleans. But mutual alarm had now accomplished that union between the Ro- man patrician and the valiant Gothic monarch, which mu- tual distrust had so long impeded. Theodoric raised a powerful army, and appeared at their head ; ^Etius called to arms the other barbarous people in Gaul, who still set some value on the name of Roman confederates, and among them brought to the field Merovaeus, the long- haired king of the Franks, though Attila called that na- tion his allies. Having formed the plan of their campaign, the allies marched forward with such rapidity, that they well-nigh surprised Attila while he was engaged in the at- tack on Orleans. On their approach, he was compelled to raise the seige, and, recrossing the river Seine, concen- trated his immense clouds of cavalry near Chalons, in the province of Champagne. The Goths, with the army of iEtius, advanced against him, and the crisis seemed to ap- proach, in which the fate of battle was to decide to whom this fair portion of Europe was doomed to belong. Both were barbarians; but the Goths, having received the Chris- tian faith, had at the same time adopted some of the atten- dant doctrines of morality, which mitigated the ferocity of their natural manners. But even ere they enjoyed these inestimable advantages, they possessed as much su- periority over the Tartars in the turn of their mind and manners, as in their stately and well-formed persons, which showed to such advantage, compared to their misshapen and fiendish-looking enemies. They were a people ac- customed to pride themselves in subduing and resisting the brutal impulses of their nature; without which power of restraint man is levelled with the beasts that perish. The Huns, on the contrary, wallowed in every pleasure that could gratify their animal instinct. The plurality of wives in which they indulged, produced among them all the usual consequences of degradation of the female sex, and indifference between the parents and the offspring. The battle of Chalons, therefo-e, was likely to determine DEATH OF ATTILA. A* whether the Euronean or tlie Asiatic savage, aliKe in rude and ferocious courage, but differing in so many other qual- ities, was to predominate in the province of Gaul. Thia engagement, fought in the year 450, (A. D.) was disput- ed with an obstinacy and fury, befitting the great stake fcr wiiich these fearless nations, on fire with rivalry, and each proud of its ancient name, pursued the bloody game of war. The aged but valiant king of the Goths, Theodo- ric, was killed in the front of the battle, but his place be- ing bravely filled by his eldest son, Torrimond, the im- petuous career of his followers was not checked, and Attila himself waS compelled, by the strength and fury of the Goths, to seek, after the Scythian custom, a retreat among his wagons, which were sometimes the means of trans- porting their families, and sometimes their fortification against a prevailing enemy. The troops, which sustained the once formidable name of Romans, suffered greatly, and jEtius, their leader, was separated from his soldiers, and with difficulty found refuge in the camp of his allies. But such a battle was dreadful to the victors as w^ell as the vanquished, and the Goths and Romans judged it more prudent to suffer Attila to effect a sullen and slow retreat, watched by a part of their army, than to risk the glory of their hard-won victory, in an attempt to cut off the retreat of the Tartar prince. Attila arrived in the northern parts of Italy, without having, in his retreat, suffered any considerable abatement of power, or by his defeat lost much of his renown. He died not long after, having compelled the Roman emperor of the Easi to giv-i to him, as one of his many wives, a beautiful Daughter with an immense dowery. Shortly after tliis event the Western Empire was entirely extinguished, ana a king- dom of Italy erected in its place. 42 CONQ,UESTS OF CLOVIS. CHAPTER IV. Conqvests of Clovis — His Conversion to Chrtstlanitd — War hetivee.n him and Alaric, King of the Visi- p;oths — Defeat of the Goths at Poitiers — Laii's and Customs of the Franks — Death of Clovis — Division of his Empire among his Sons — The Saracens in' vade France, and are repulsed by Charles Martel— The Jllerovingian Race of Kings deposed by Pepin Founder of the Carlovingian Dynasty — Conquests of Charlemagne — Division of the Empire among his Successors — Invasion of the JVorthmen or JVormans — Charles the Gross deposed. I HAVE already fixed your attention upon the Franks as the people who were destined to become the founders of modern France. But the original extent of their domin- ions was small ; the increase of their power slow ; nor did they for a length of titne bear much comparison with the Burgundians, who occupied the south-east of France, or with the still more numerous Visigoths, who repulsed the formidable host under Attila. We have already given some account of them and their long-haired kings, who were called after Merovasus, the ally of iEtiusand ofThe- odoric, at the famous battle of Chalons. But in his time the Franks can only be said to have kept their ground. In the time of Clovis (which is the same name w^ith Louis, the chl of the Celtic tribes resembling the aspirated con- sonant hi,) the power of the nation made great advance.?, rather oy the address and ability of the monarch, than by (he su'oerior valour of his followers, though the Franks were nllowed to" be among the bravest of the German tribes who invaded Gaul. Such of the Gallic colonists as still chose to retain the name of Romans, endeavoured to embody themselves under the command of one Sya- grius, who established his head-quarters at Soissons. CONQUESTS OF CLOVIS. 43 But Clevis, with his warlike Franks, commtnced hia career of conquest hy deleating hin) ; and obtaining pos- session of his person, caused him to be beheaded, and seized upon his dominions, which added to the territo- ries of the Franks the provinces of Gaul betwixt the Rhine and the Loire. (486.) Clovis afterwards conquered a king of Thurlngia, named Basin, and extended his sway o\'er his country, the inhabitants of which were the more severely treated, that they had formei'ly joined Attila, and committed frightful cruelties upon the Goths and Franks, after the battle of ChalonSc But Clovis's destiny was principally deterni-ined by his adopting the Christian faith. The chief agent in his conversion, \vas his queen, Clotilda, daughter of Gundo- bald. King of Burgundy, his neighbour and ally. By her affectionate exhortations, the mind of her husband was disposed to Christianity, though he long hesitated to em- brace a religion which imposed many restrictions. At length, in a battle with the AUemanni, often already men- tioned as holding the upper part of the Rhine, Clovis, hard pressed, was induced to vow, that if he should obtain a victory, which seemed extremely doubtful, he would become a Christian. The King of the AUemanni was slain, his army discomfited, and the acquisition of his dominions greatly augmented the power of the Franks. 'A. D. 496.) After tliis conquest, Clovis adopted the Christian faith, according to his vow, and was baptized m the Cathedral of Rheims, where it has been ever since the custom to crown and consecrate the monarchs of France. Burgundy, the country of his wife, was afterwards sub- jected by this ambitious King ; for Clovis was equally a dexterous politician, an accomplished soldier, and, we must add, an ambitious and unscrupulous man : by such characters are kintidoms acquired, and their limits aug- mented. Gundobald was attacked and defeated, and, after his death, his son Sigismond was taken and put to death ; the sons of Clovis causing him and his family to bo thrown into a well. 44 WAR BETWEEN THE FRANKS AND GOTHS. But, before the conquest of Burgundy was perfected, a war broke out between Clovis and those Visigoths, who, in the time of Theodoric, had assisted in defeating Attihi at the battle of Chalons. These Visigoths were Arians, that is, they held certain opinions on the most ab- struse and mysterious doctrines of Cliristianity, taught by a clergyman called Arius, which are contrary to those ac- cepted by the Catholic Church. Unhappily for both sides, the Christiano of those early ages chose rather to make these differences in s])eculative opinion the means of persecuting each other, than listen to the great pre- cept of the Gospel, which imposes on us the duty to love our neighbour as ourselves. The Visigoths were at this time governed by a prince called Alaric, who was stirred, doubtless, by the blood of his renowned ancestor of the same name, and jealous of the growing conquests of the Catholic Clovis. The two monarchs met as friends upon an island in the Loire, which now divided their dominions. But it is remarkable how seldom such interviews serve to prolong peace and good understanding betwixt princes. They feasted together, and parted in appearance as friends, but with mutual ran- cour at heart.. Clovis held a council of his barons ; — "Let not these Arian heretics," he said, " longer enjoy the choicest portion of Gaul !" He was answered by loud ac- clamations, and, to give evidence of his own zeal, rode to the front of his nobles, and darting his battle-axe forward with a strong arm and desperate aim, " Where my francis- ca alights," he said, (such was tJie name which the Franks gave to iheir war-axes,) " will 1 dedicate a church to the blessed St. Peter, Prince of the Apostles, and to his holy brethren !" The weapon lighted on the spot where Clo- vis erected the Great Church, now called that of St. Genevieve, formerly of St. Peter and St. Paul. Under these auspices, Clovis advanced against Alaric, who aj)peai-ed at the head of an army of Goths, far supe- rior to that of the Franks., In the anxiety of the moment, Clovis endeavoured to propitiate the saints by magnificent promises. St. Martin of Tours, who had been active hi CHARACTER OF CLOVIS. 4o the general conversion of Gaul, was the principal object of his vows. He endeavoured to propitiate that saint with tnany promises, and particularly that of dedicating to Iiini a favourite charger, which was perhaps the thing in the world which he loved most dearly. The King of Franks joined battle with Alaric, near Poitiers, where the usual good fortune of Clovis prevailed. (A.D.500.) He showed his personal gallantry in the pursuit, and, attaching himself to the person of Alaric, slew him with his own lance, while at the same time he made his escape with difficulty from .two desperate Gothic champions, who united to avenge their monarch's death by that of his conqueror. The risk which Clovis had eluded by his own dexterity, and the excellent qualities of his approved charger, endeared the noble animal to him, and he endeavoured to repurchase him at the price of one hundred golden pieces, from the saint to whom the good horse had been pledged by the royal vow. But he was displeased to learn that St. Mar- tin had vindicated his property, and that the steed would not stir from his stable till redeemed at a higher rate by his secular master. " An excellent friend in time of need, this St. Martin," said the king, somewhat fretted at the saint's tenacity ; " but rather difficult to transact business with." He continued, however, his attachment to the saint, and his bounty to the existing clergy, which secured for the founder of the Frank monarchy a fairer character in the pages of the monkish historians than his crimes de- serve. Clovis's reputation as a conqueror was, in his lat- ter years, somewhat tarnished by a defeat received before Aries, from Theodoric the Great, King of the Ostrogoths, but it did not greatly affect his power. His religion, how- ever, consisted chiefly in superstition, and his esteem for St. Martin never interrupted the course of unscrupulous ambition which, on every possible occasion, seized the op- portunity of extending his dominions either by fraud or violence. Such princes of the Merovingian race, whose in- lerests seemed likely to interfere with his own family, he lut offwithout mercy. Of others, he shaved the long hairj and having thus rendered tbem inacapable of assuming the 46 LAWS AND CUSTOMS OF THE FRANKS. established mark of regal sway, shut them up in cloisters. If he suspected them to be capable of reflecting thai their hair would grow again, he took sterner and more fatal means of shutting the paths of ambition against them. Yet, though stained with the blood of his own relatives as well as others, Clovis, with many crimes as an individ- ual, had great virtues as a monarch. He not only extend- ed the power of his tribe, over what w-e must in future call France, combining into one strong monarchy the shatterec' and broken fragments of so many barbarous tribes, as well as the feeble remains of the Roman settlers in Gaul ; but he ruled theni by equitable and humane laws, being the first of the barbarous conquerors of what had constituted the Roman empire, who tried to restore order in the do- minions he acquired, and engaged himself in creating, as well as destroying, the social union. His code of laws were called the Salic and Ripuarian, from having their origin on the banks of the Saal, and the eastern side of the Rhine ; and in their peculiar character they bore the stamp of the warlike freedom which distinguished the an- cient Franks. The King of the Franks gave to his friends and followers the personal and temporary possession of benefices, fiefs, or farms, varying in extent and value, stipulating the service of the vassal, in peace or war, in return for abandoning to him the profits of the soil. Originally, these grants terminated at the will of the holder of the soil, at least at the death of the tenant ; but at last it became usual to renew the grant, as a mattei of course, on the death of the vassal, and in favour of his eldest son, or nearest heir, who paid, or rendered, a cer- tain acknowledgment for receiving this preference. The female inheritance of fiefs was" prohibited by the Salic law, and the consequence, by excluding the Kings of England from the throne of France, led to those long and bloody wars which perpetuate the remembrance of the original edict. In many respects, the Frank institutions were those of barbarians. Slaughter was only punished by a fine, which Jifferei according to the arbitrary value at which the lavt LAWS A.ND CUSTOMS OF THE FRANKS. 41 rated the persons slain. Ordeals of various kinds were referred to, in which the Deity was expected to work a miracle, in order to make manifest the guilt or innocence of an accused person, by protecting liim from being burnt *when walking bare-foot among masses of hot iron ; and similar unreasonable appeals were admitted, for obtaining a special testimony of innocence, at the expense of a suspension of the laws of nature. But a mode of trial, far more suitable to the manners of these martial barbari- ans, was the referring the issue of a lawsuit, or dispute of any kind, to the encounter of two champions, espous- ing the different sides of the contest in the lists. This regulation was so well suited to the genius and disposition of the barbaric tribes, that it was soon generally introduced throughout Europe. Thus arose in France, the first germ of those institutions, called the feudal system, the trial by combat, and other peculiarities, which distinguish- •ed the jurisprudence of the middle ages. We can also trace, in the customs and laws of the Franks, the same rude marks of the trial by jury, which seem orig- inally to have been formed among all the northern peo- ple, — though it is very v\'orthy of your notice, that the British alone have been able to mould it into sucli a form as to adapt it to a civilized state. The jurymen were, in the days of the origin of law, called compurgators. They were little more than witnesses brought forward to give evidence in behalf of the character of an accused person. " You have heard things alleged against me," said the accused, " but I will produce a certain number of com- purgators, men that are well acquainted with me, and who will pledge their oath that I am incapable of what has been imputed to me." By steps which it is something cu- rious to trace, the compurgators, limited to a convenient number, came to be the judges in the cause, listening to the proof adduced, wliether in favour of guilt or innocence, and deciding by their verdict which of the two predomi- nated. So that, from being witnesses in behaii" of the accused, the opinion of the compurgators becau'ie tiie ab SUCCESSOKS OF CLOVIS. means of deciding the truth or falsehood of the charge against hini. The high and excessive preponderance which the Franks allowed to their own warlike habits induced them to claim such superiority over the Gallic or Roman colo-* nists, that it must have reduced the whole, as it doubtless did a very great part of them, into the condition of bonds- men and Helotes to their haughty conquerors, had not the more refined, but less gallant provincialists, found a retreat in the church, by which they were raised in gene- ral opinion above the condition of their conquerors, and, in their character as priests, dealt forth to them, as they pretended, the good and evil things of the next world, in consideration of being admitted to a large share of temporal wealth and power as a recompense in the pres- ent. As the clergy were men of information, and pos- sessed what learning still existed in Europe, their lot was gradually rendered better than at first was threatened, and the rude warriors were frequently, even to their own sur- prise, obliged to submit to the well-informed and wily priest. But when the oppressed provincial of Roman or Gallic descent remained in a lay condition, he was considered as incalculably meaner and more worthless than the descendant of the Frank, or freeman, by whom he had been conquered, and the distinction betwixt him and the warlike barbarian remained long, and may be traced deep in the history and manners of the kingdom of France. Clovis having laid the foundation of a mighty state, which he extended by victory, and guarded by laws, died at Paris, which he had fixed upon for the capital of his dominions, in the year of God 511. The monarchy which he founded was not in all appearance likely to sur- vive him ; for upon his death, it was divided among his four sons ; but it was the singular fortune of the French monarchy to be often put in danger of dismemberment by a division of territory, from whicli it repeatedly escaped, by the reunion of the detached portions, upon the first opportunity. This spirit of individuahty it perhaps re SJUCCESSORS OF CLOVIS. 4\) ceived from the impulse of the institutions of Clovis, since those people who live under the same laws are pre- disposed to unite in the same government. But it is at least unnecessary to trace with accuracy the minute actions, separations, and reunions of territory, during the sway of the kings of the First, or Merovin- gian race. They were never remarkable for family con- cord, and while their empire was divided into departments, they seem to have fallen into absolute anarchy. Their wars against their neighbours and each other were con- ducted with the utmost cruelty, and their social regula- tiv^ns seem to have been broken through by the general propensity to insubordination. One of Clovis' grandsons, Theodibert, King of Metz, passed the Alps into Italy : and although that irruption, like all which the French have hitherto directed against their transalpine neighbotfrs, was in the end nugatory, yet he might have revived it with greater advantage at the head of a more numerous army, had he not been slain at a hunting-match by -a wild bull, no unfit opponent to a headlong conqueror. He left a son, but Clotaire, his uncle, had the address to seduce the allegiance of the people from the young heir of Metz, and to prevail on them to acknowledge his own better right, as nearer to the blood of the great Clo- vis ; and in the end this prince succeeded, by one means or other, in uniting once more under. his sway all the dominions of that great conqueror and legislator. After the death of Clotaire, the Frank empire was again sub- divided, and then again followed a succession of wars, murders, and treacheries, which might be the stain of any kingdom, if the like could be found elsewhere. About this time, the punishment of the kings of the TMerovingian race began to descend upon them in a manner which was the natural fruit of their offences. These princes had repeatedly neglected their kingly duties, to plunge themselves into sensual pleasures, and had used their regal power for the gratification of their own selfish wishes and desires, instead of applying it to the adminis 943 50 ' POWER OF THE MAIRE DU PALAIS. tration of justice among their subjects, or the niaiRtejfas.Cr of the laws. By a natural consequence, their powers of understanding became limited to the petty subjects m which alone their own unworthy passions induced th^m to take interest, while the real exercise of authority, whether in time of peace or war, devolved upon a minis- ter known by the name of Maire du Palais, or, as we would say, the high-steward of the royal household, who lisd the complete administration in his own hand,, to the total exclusion of the monarch. The kings, retiring into the interior of their palace, led a life so useless, and so totally without object, that they attained the name of Rois FaineanSj or Idiot Princes, while theii Maires de Palais, or ministers, assumed the command of the armies, administered justice, invaded some provinces, and pro/- lected others, and made war and peace at pleasure,, with- out even consulting the wish or inclination of the iong- iiaired puppet who held the name of king. There are few countries which have not at some time or other been cursed by imbecile princes, who have let their power slip from their hands, and abandoned them- selves to the pleasures of luxurioas indolence, while their ministers discharged the duties of government. But aJ SK) time in Europe has the surrender been so complete, so absolute, and so endariag, as in the case of the Mero/- viagian family. Pepin de Heristhal, so called' from ehieBy residing in a castle of that name, upon the Meuse, was one of the most distinguished of those ministers whose inereasiBg, and Anally exclusive power, prepared the way for the finaJ extinction of the race of Merovasus. Yet he still observed decency towards his supposed master. The unfortunate uionprch was treated with such state as fully satisfied the popular regard, which still venerated the blood of Clovis. This sort of parade was but of a coarse clumsy charac- ter, suitable to the rudeness of the age. TJie king, when exhibited to the people, was driven about the streets, like a show of modern days, in a large wagon drawn by oxea, aiirroimded by guards^ who^ under pretence of protee*.ia| DEATH OF PEPIN. 51 Ills person, suffered no one to approach him , and on pub- iic occasions he kept aloof from his people, and was en- vironed by the great officers of state. Thus, though an f^ssential part of the ceremony, the king took as little interest in it as one of his own draught oxen. Every thing approaching to real business was settled by Pepin, who, to the title of Maire du Palais, expressive of the highest ministerial authority, added that of Duke, or leader of the Franks; and under these modest epithets, disposed of the full power of the crown, preserving in his person a simplicity of manners and appearance which astonished ail strangers when contrasted with the idle pomp which attended on the king's person. Pepin d'Heristhal did not escape the dangers attendant on the actual possession of power. He was attacked and stabbed at his devotions, by the dagger of an emu- lous rival. He recovered, however, and his authority was so easily transmissible, that he named his son Theo- bald his successor, as Maire du Palais, though only six years old, and died shortly after having done so. (A D. 714.) But the fortunes of this favoured child, though the only legitimate son of Pepin de Heristhal, gave way be- fore those of the illegitimate offspring of the same minis- ter. This was the famous Charles, called Martel, or the Hammerer, from the resistless weight of the blows which he discharged on his enemies in battle. After various victories, improved with talent, he found himself able to compel the king, Thierry of Chelles, who then supported the dignity of the long-haired and weak descendants of Clovis, to admit him to the dignity of Maire du Palais, that is, to the administration of the kingdom of France. Most fortunate that kingdom was, in possessing his abili- ties at the time, for an awful crisis was approaching, threatening more imminent danger to France, than had menaced it since the great inroad of Attila. As in the days of that Scythian monarch, the rising kingdom was threatened with the invasion, to use the lan- guage of Scripture, of " a nation from far, whose tongue 52 INVASION OF THE SARACENS. • hey did not understand," and who, in all the pride of victory, came with the Moslem form of faith in, the one hand, and the sword in the other, to propound to the Christians of France the choice of apostacy or death. These were the Saracens, or descendants of the Arabian believers in Mahomet, who, having accepted the law of that impostor, had burst forth from their deserts, tJieir natural ferocity and courage enhanced by their fanaticism, to lay waste the world, and preach the Alcoran. From the extremity of Africa, they crossed into Spain, and de- stroyed, after a brief struggle, the kingdom wliich the Goths had erected there, and which they found under the government of a profligate and unpopular monaich. (A. D. 713.) And now their arms were turned against France. Aquitaine, an independent dukedom, a remnant of wMiat had ijeen the emj)ire of the Visigoths in that province, was first exposed to their inroads. It was governed by a prince named Eudo, wlio had hitherto been opposed to Charles Martel and his family, but now implored his as- sistance against the common enemy of Christianity. As the kingdom of the Franks still preserved exten- sive possessions on the east side of the Rhine, the Maire du Palais levied in Germany a large body of troops, whose lofty size, massive strength, and fair complexion, were likely to inspire surprise and terror into the swartliy and slender Arabs. Charles Martel, having communicated his plans to Eudo, took his measures for the aj^proaching campaign, where a defeat might have proved irreparable, with a degree of caution which seemed, foreign to his character. Permitting, and almost encoiu-aging, the nu- merous bands of the invaders to enfeeble their force by dispersing themselves through the country in search of plunder, he ke[)t his own army strongly concenti-ated. The Saracens and Christians at length encountered near the city of Tours, and the contest, which lasted several days, seemed to endure with an obstinacy worthy of the object of debate, namely, to what religion, and whose government, this fair portion of the European w^orid should ia future be subjected. (A. D. 732.) While the battle DKFEAT OF THE SARACENS. 53 continued desultory, which was the case during the (irsl days of the strife, the Saracens, from the numbers and activity of their light squadrons, obtained some advan- tage over the Christians. But this was lost when the light-armed Arabs came to mingle in close combat with the warriors of the north, who were so much stronger in their persons, mounted on more powerful horseSj and. above all, accustomed to seek out and to sustain the dan- gers of close encounter. Thus the battalions of the Saracens were already hard pressed, and beginning tc give ground, when the cry of conflict was heard in their rear, and the infidels discovered that their camp was as- saulted by Eudo, at the head of the people of Aquitaine, who had concerted with ChaHes Martel the time and manner of so seasonable an attack. The Saracens then gave way, and were defeated with an immense slaughter; even if we decline believing that no less than three hun- dred and seventy-five thousand infidels, and only fifteen hundred Christians, were slain in the battle. This great victory decided the campaign, and the event of the war ; and Charles Martel pressed his success vigorously. The Saracens lost the footing they had gained beyond the Pyrenees, and Europe was saved from the imminent risk it had run of being darkened by the religious dreams of the African prophet. Charles, planning yet more impor- tant achievements than he had executed, was removed by death. (A. D. 741.) The clergy, notwithstanding his great services to Christianity, pretended that, his tomb being opened by accident, nothing was discovered but an ugly dragon, which, they boldly affirmed, was an exphcit mark of his eternal reprobation. The truth is, he had offended the churchmen, by calling upon them, with an irresistible voice, to surrender part of their wealth for the service of the state. Charles Martel was succeeded in his title of Duke and Prince of France, and guardian of its long-haired kings, by his sons, Carloman and Pepin, whilst a third son, Gri- poi^, struggled hard to obtain a share of authority. - Cur- 54 DEPOSITION OF CHILUERIC. Ionian early retired from the world into an Italian convent and Gripon died, after various attempts against Pepin, which had been repeatedly forgiven. About tiiis period, Pepin, who had been liitherto con- lent to govern in the name of Childeric, the last of the JMerovingian kings, to whom, as to his fathers, the empty honours of sovereignty had been paid, began at last to tire of the obstacle interposed betwixt him and the name of king, while he already possessed the power. (A. D. 750.) The important question, whether the Faineant, or Simpleton, should continue to possess the royal title, rather than the active and effective minister who dis- charged the duties of the situation, was referred to Pope Zacharias, then Bishop of Rome. This pontiff had al- ready received the most important services from Pepin, who had protected him against the arms of tlie Lombards, a nation of barbarians who had usurped the command of Italy. He was therefore warmly disposed to favour Pe- pin in his present object, on account of the regard he had for one who had rendered him such services ; and at the same time, by assuming the office of arbitrator in a matter of such consequence, Zacharias established a precedent for the superb claims which the Popes of Rome had al- ready formed to become the general umpires of the Chris- tian world. He had no hesitation to declare his opinion, that, in a contract like that betwixt the kings of France and their people, if the former should totally neglect and retire from all the duties of a sovereign, they lost the right of exacting allegiance from their subjects. Founding on the award or sentence of the pontiff, and availing him- self of the power which was entirely in his hands, Pepin held an assembly of the Frank nobles, and degraded Childeric HI., the last of the race of Merovaeus. Hi=; long hair was shaved, to prevent him from again ascend- ing the throne ; and for the same reason he was obhged to take religious vows, and retire into a monastery. Thus ended the First, or Merovingian race of the kings of France, in consequence of their total indolence and m- capo'^ity. You will hereafter see, that the family of Pe- TEMPORAL POWER OF THE POPE, 55 pin did not themselves profit by the severe lesson imparted by their ancestor to his predecessors, and had in their turn their term of decay and degradation. Pepin, called by his historians Bref, or the Short, to distinguish him from his ancestor Pepin d'Heristhal, was elevated upon a buckler, after the ancient custom of the Franks, and declared king of the nation, of which he had been long the effectual ruler. He became the parent of the Carlovingian, or second race of French kings, who, like the Merovingians, their predecessors, commenced their dynasty in glory and conquest, and declined into de- generacy, sloth, and effeminacy, until they were super- seded by another royal family, as their ancestor succeeded Childeric. At this period, what had been the fragments of the Roman empire, had been repeatedly conquered and divided by barbarians of different origin, but yet, like the animal called a polypus, the severed parts showed a disposition to frame new combinations of government. Pepin and his son Charles, who obtained the name of Charlemagne, or Charles the Great, made great progress m erecting a new Western empire, differing widely from that which had formerly existed under the name and authority of the Romans, both in laws and institutions, the more recent of which were in a great measure founded on those of the Franks, which we have since called the Feudal System. To give their power the venerable aspect of religion, and the better to confirm their sway, both Pepin and Charlemagne engaged in repeated invasions of Italy, for the purpose of supporting the Bishops of Rome against the oppressions of the Fjombards, a people already men- tioned. This nation was finally conquered and annihilated by Charlemagne. He was then not unmindful that the Popes, as they were called, had been the first to sanctify Pepin's assumption of the crown by a formal sentence, and began to study a recompense which should at once attest his gratitude and his devotion. For this purpose, (^'harlemagne gave to the Bishops of Rome, who had hitheito been spiritual prelates only, a right of temporal &3 TEMPORAL POWER OF THE POPE. dominion over their city and territories adjacent, which raised them to the rank of princes of this ivorld. Future Popes were discontented that their power should he sup- posed to rest on the narrow basis of Charlemagne's grant, and asserted that they possessed a right of the same tenof from Constantino the Great, not only more ancient, but more ample. -But this pretended document is generally supposed to have been a forgery. At any rate, you must observe, and remember, that it was by the grant of Charle- magne that the Pope first laid the foundation of his power as a temporal prince, as it was in the case of Pepin Bref that Pope Zacharias first exercised his authority in dis- posing, or authenticating the disposal of the crown of France, as if he could have had any title either to depose the Long-haired Simpleton, or to elevate the Maire du Palais to the throne in his room. • The Popes failed not to evince their gratitude to Charle- niagne, from whom they had experienced so many favours. In return for having made the Bishop of Rome a tempo- ral prince, that prelate solemnly raised his benefactor, Charles, to the rank of Emperor. The realms which were united under the sway of this victorious prince, might well be termed a renewal of the Roman empire. As king of the Franks, he succeeded to their dominions both in France and Italy ; for when, under the long-haired kings, that people advanced tlieir conquests in France, they still retained their original German possessions on the east of the Rhine, which had been the land of their fathers, when they first formed their association, or league of freemen. But Charlemagne greatly enlarged these German pos- sessions by overrunning Saxony. That province was in- habited by a fierce people, still heathens ; and it cost a war of thirty years and upwards, ere they were conquered and converted. In Gerniany, Charlemagne also defeated the remains of the great nations of the Huns, or Tartars, and added to his limits the provinces of Bohemia and Pannonia, so as to reach the frontiers of the Eastern, oi Grecian empire. In Spain, he gained considerable ad' vantage?- over ih's Saracens, until he extended his Chns SUCCESSORS OF CHARLEMAGNE. 51 tian power from the line of the Pyrenees, the natural boundary between France and Spain, to the banks ol tlia Ebro, which river bounded his empire. It was especially in his battles with the Saracens, that the romancers, who made the adventures of this great prince the subject of their poems, found materials for the numerous fables with which they altogether disguised and obscured his exploits. The battle of Roncesvalles, in which Charlemagne, though the cliief of Christian and European chivalry, suffered a terrible defeat, and lost a great part of bis Paladins, a se- lect band of renowned champions so called, is supposed to have taken place in a pass of the Pyrenees, descend- ing from these mountains. The rear-guard of the Franks was attacked by the natives of Gascony, whom -he Moors had bribed to assist on the occasion, and '/ery many slain. The celebrated Orlando, or Roland, ol whom romance says so much, and history so little, fell an this occasion. But although the incidents of the reign of Charlemagne have been made the theme of many fables or exaggera- tions, there can be no doubt that Charles, by his courage, constant activity, and frequent successes, deserved the title of Great. He was a legislator as well as a conqueror and studied those arts by which society is cemented and bound together, as well as the rules of war, by which its frame is dissolved and burst asunder. It would be difficult to compute the consequences to the world at large, if Charlemagne could have transmitted his great and powerful empire to a single successor, as capable as himself of wielding the government. But the French diadem, it would seem, had something benumbing in its effect upon the wearer ; and the desire among the descendants of Charlemagne to divide the succession, each seizing upon independent portions of the empire, prevented this great experiment from being made. The German Empire, so much more feeble than that of the French, has subsisted, as a rickety and unhealthy cliild sometimes survives its more robust brother. Habit, in the one case, kept together a people accustomed to one Ian* 3* 58 SUCCESSORS OF CHARLEMAGNE. guage and tho same system of laws. The Carlovingian Empire, on the other hand, fell to pieces for want ol those principles of cohesion. Charlemagne, indeed, transmitted great part of his do- minions to his only surviving son Louis, previously created King of Aquitaine, and associated with his father in the empire. But in the course of two or three generations, the various descendants of the great Emperor Charles fnade war among themselves, and by treaties divided and subdivided their empire into fragments. It had, indeedj required all the sagacity and activity of Charles, from whom they derived their descent, to keep together a large empire, consisting of unconnected kingdoms, inhabited in most cases by distinct races of people, Huns, Alani, Alle- manni, Lombards, and other tribes, who had in their turn laid waste the European world. Charlemagne endeav- oured to give strength and unity to this mass, by assigning to vassals of warlike skill, and of distinction at his court, the government of different provinces, they always hold- mg their authority from and under himself as superior of the whole : and while a man ^of such wisdom and povver was at the head of the empire, these governors were compelled to do their duty, and as but few of them had yet obtained hereditary rights to their offices, they were liable to lose them upon incurring the emperor's displeasure. In the assemblies of the crown vassals, Charlemagne made, by the advice of his clergy and nobles, those laws which were called Capitulars, and which regulated his empire. In these general councils of the nation, there reigned among the hardy vassals, who composed them, a strong spirit of fresdom, mingled with a deference to the will of their emperor, which was naturally founded on the wisdom and high talents of this great monarch, the extent of his power, and the number of his conquests. He had also a mode of giving advice to those around him on such occasions, in which mirth was joined with sober counsel, and a serious lesson given under the appearance of a jest. For example, although Charlemagne himself cf'splayed upon public occasions a considerable degree of ANECDOTE OF CHARLEMAGNE. 59 rude magnificence, yet it was merely for the support of his impeiial dignity in the public eye, and not from any pleasure which he received from the gratification of per- sonal vanity. He dreaded, therefore, the introduction of luxury among his subjects. On one occasion, observing that liis nobility and vassals had indulged to extravagance in silk dresses, lined with fur, he invited them, thus ar- rayed, to a royal hunting party, though the weather was the depth of winter, and the day rainy. He then, after they had been completely drenched in the forest, led them back to the royal hall, where the heat of the fire shriv- elled up the wet furs. Charles on this gloried in his own plain sheepskin cloak, which had neither suffered by the storm nor by the heat, and exhorted the tat-sred crew by whom he was surrounded, to reserve silk and furs for days of ceremony, and to use in war and in the chase the plain but serviceable dress of their ancestors. In this anecdote there is more meaning than may be at first seen. In the decay of the Roman Empire, the suc- cessive defeats sustained by the various warlike tribes, which, seizing on the provinces of that immense ruih, had become in their turn a prey to luxury and effeminacy, and sunk under the sway of barbarians, who retained their wild courage and simple manners, there was a strong lesson to future conquerors. From this, Charlemagne was naturally led to foresee the degeneracy which might sap the foundations of his own throne, and bring down upon the Carlovingian race, of which he himself was the founder, a fate similar to that of the Merovingian dynasty, which his father, Pepin Brtf, had extinguished. Neither were his apprehensions far removed from the truth. Charles was succeeded in his throne by Louis, called the Debonnaire, from his obliging and gentle character (A. D. 814.) That character was, however, greatly too Boft for the times in which he lived ; and the instructions with which his father had carefully imbued him, proved inadequate to form his courteous and yielding temper to tn(;ountor the difficulties of his situation. His sense o*" 60 LOUIS THE DEBONNAIRE. religion took an unhappy direction, and subjected him to undue influence on the part of^ the -prelates and clergy, who abused his weakness, and usurped the royal privi- leges. The near relations of the new emperor conspired against his crown and life, and he felt a degree of remorse at the necessity of punishing them, which increased the indirect authority of the priesthood, and induced him to submit to the most degrading penances. The Empress Judith, of the House of Guelf, obtained also a power over her husband's mind, which she used to pernicious purposes, persuading him to raise Charles, a son whom she bore to him, to a right of succession in the empire, and estates dependent thereon. This incensed the sons whom Louis the Debonnaire had by his former marriage. Lothaire, Pepin, and Louis, engaged in an ungrateful and unnatural rebellion against the good-natured king. (A. D. 835.) He even became prisoner to his insurgent sons, and was solemnly degraded from his royal dignity, although be was afterwards recalled to the throne. This was only to be disturbed by fresh family intrigues, in which, em- barrassed by the solicitations of his young wife, and the pretensions of his adult sons, Louis the Debonnaire died broken-hearted, but left no part of his dominions to his son Louis, whom he considered as especially undutiful. (A. D. 840.) "Yet you must forgive him as a Chris- tian," was the suggestion of the Bishop of Mentz. " I forgave him with all my heart," said the dying emperor , " but let him beseech God's forgiveness for bringing my gray hairs with sorrow to the ground." Thus died the Emperor Louis le Debonnaire, son of the Great Charles, on whose tomb the adage might have been inscribed, that, " Mere good-nature is only a fool." Immediately upon the death of Louis, a general war ensued among his children : and in a dreadful iDattle which took place near Fontenoy, upwards of one hundred thou- sand men of tlie Frank nation fell in defence of the pre- tensions of the various claimants. It was not till five years afterwards that this fraternal discord was terminated by a ♦'■eaty, by which the dominions of Charlemagne were divid- DEATH OF LOUIS THE DEBONNaIRE. 61 eil into three parts, and shared among the three brothers The eldest, Lothaire, kept the title of Emperor ; he also retained all Italy, with the city of Rome, and the whole tract of country lying betwixt the rivers Rhine, Rhone, Saone, Meuse, and Scheldt, which was from him called Lotharingia, the memory of which word survives in the word Lorrain, still applied to a part of what were Lothaire's dominions. Louis the Second, his brother, enjoyed all the dominions of Germany beyond the Rliine, and was thence ailed Louis the German. Charles, whose pretensions had during his father's lifetime, given so much occasion for dis- turbance, was declared King of the third portion into which the empire of Ch.arlemagnevvas divided. This compre- hended Aquitaine, and all the provinces lying between the Loire and the Meuse, Thus the empire of Charlemagne was once more partitioned among his descendants, and their civil quarrels ended for a season. But their unnatu- ral and bloody war had reduced them to such a state of weakness, as encouraged enemies to rise against them on all sides The Saracens, no longer restrained by such generals as Pepin, Charles IVlartel, or Charlemagne, again attempted to extend their incursions into Gaul by land, into Italy by sea, and afforded no rest to the afliicted provinces of Char lemagne's empire. A still more formidable people had taken up arms for the purpose of harassing the coasts of Europe and at their pleasure filling their vessels with spoil, or landing and acquiring settlements by force. These new and powerful conquerors were the inhabitants of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, called by the ancients Scandina- via, The fleets equipped by these people were extreme- ly numerous, and commanded by such chiefs as, eithei from hereditary descent or election, had aspired to author- ity. Undaunted courage was necessary in the command- er of a people, who scarcely knew even the name of fear, and made it their boast that they signalized their courage at the expense of all other people on earth. As they were very expert sailors, they equipped numberless fleets, which 62 INVASIONS OF THE NORMANS. ravaged all the coasts of Britain, France, and Spain and sometimes even entered the Mediterranean. Thougli of various nations, yet being all of northern extraction, these pirates were known to the inhabitants of the south under the name of Northmen or Normans, by which they became so formidable, that public prayers were put up to Heaven for delivery from their visitations. The people, too ter rifled to resist a nation whose profession was piracy, their religion heathenism, and their element war, endeavoured to pacify them by humble submission : the kings attempt- ed to bribe them by money. But though one squadron might be thus induced to relinquish their purpose for a season, the next summer was sure to bring fresh swarms of spoilers ; and tl)e invasions of the Normans upon the coasts of Southern Europe make the most reii:iarkable feature of the ninth and tenth centuries. • To this incalculable evil the coasts of France were ex- posed, while its interior was ravaged by the many evils which attend on the inability and disunion of princes. Tiie epithets bestowed by history on the line of Charlemagne, are taken from personal imperfections ; and such nick- names as the Bald, the Simple, the Hammerer, and the Gross, could only be conferred on men who were with- out more worthy claims of distinction over the rest of man- kind. It is impossible to suppose that these last descendants of Ciiarlemagne possessed either mental energy or virtue from which a distinction could have been assigned to them In the year 885, the disasters of France, from the mis- conduct of their Princes, and the assaults of foreign ene- mies, seemed to approach a crisis which threatened its national existence. At this period Charles, called the Gross, ov fat, had, after the death of most cf the direct descendants of Charle- magne, obtained the title of Emperor, with which he united for a time that of King of France. This prince had been formerly induced to consent to the settlemeni of a body of Normans in his province of Friezeland, hop- ing their presence and co-operation might protect the coast of the Netherlands against visitations from theii TREACHERY OF CHARLES THE GROSS. 63 countrymen. Finding that the Normans continued their incursions, and that Godfrey, the king of the settlei's, intrigued against him with Hugo, a bastard nephew, he resolved by a daring crime to redeem the consequences of a political error. Henry, Duke of Saxony, one of the Emperor's high officers, by the orders of his master, prevailed upon Godfrey to hold a friendly interview with him. To this interview Duke Henry brought one Count Berard, whom Godfrey had driven from his estate. The consequence was easily to be foreseen. Berard upbraid- ed the Norman prince with his wrongs, and in the alter- cation killed him with his battle-axe. The Normaus who attended their leader shared his fate. The Empe- ror having, in like manner, treasonably obtained posses- sion of his nephew Hugo's person, caused his eyes to be put out, to render him incapable of reigning, and shut him up in the great convent of St. Gal, in Switzerland. The death of Godfrey was followed by the most alarm- ing consequences. The furious Normans, justly incensed at the treacherous murder of their leader, assembled a fleet of seven hundred sail, small vessels certainly, since they came up the Seine, which is inaccessible to large barks, but having on board a great army of their countrymen. Their object was to attack the city of Paris, the capital of France since the time of Clovis. (A.D. 885.) When assaulted by the Normans, the city occupied only what is still called the Isle of Paris, which was surrounded by the Seine on both sides, and accessible by two bridges, the approaches to which were strongly fortified with towers. In those times it held a high rank as a strong fortification, and was accounted one of the ramparts of Christendom. To protect and defend these walls and towers, the city was filled with the best of the French warriors, who de- voted themselves to its defence. The Normans, who had expected to carry tho place by surprise, were in that respect disappointed. But although their habits did not vender them peculiarly fit for undertaking regular sieges, they disembarked their numerous bands, and pressed the city both with a blockade, and also by repeated assaults 64 SIEGE OF PARIS at the sword -point. Much courage was shown \a tht attack and defence, and all the weapons of war then known were called into exercise. The bridges were defended by Eudes, an officer of courage and talent. Hugo the Abbot, so called from his possessing, though a layman and a military leader, the revenues of some abbeys, threw himself into the city of Paris, of which he was count, and with Goselin, bishop of the diocess, ar- ranged its defence. Both distinguished themselves by their conduct, and both died in the course of the siege. The Normans erected three movable towers, each capable of sheltering sixty men, and mounted upon wheels, by which they attacked the defences of the biidges. But these towers were dashed to pieces by the stones hurled on them, or consumed by combustibles discharged from engines for that purpose. Battering rams were also used by the Northmen, with the like indifferent success, being broken by the weight of stones hurled fj-om the machines of the besieged. The histori- ans of Paris still commemorate the courage of twelve warriors who defended to the last the tower of the Little Chatelet. Being sepai'ated from the rest of the fortifica- tions by a breach made by the river, they could receive no assistance. When they perceived the desperation of their situation, they gave liberty to the hawks which each had along with him, and died in continuing an una- vailing defence, with a resolution which would have sur- prised any people but the Normans, to whom such deeds ot desperate valour were familiar. But though the defence of Paris was obstinate, the loss of men and scarcity of provisions began to be dis- tressing. Sigefroy, the king of the Normans, having under him thirty thousand men of that warlike nation, did not confine himself to the operations of the siege, but spread his forces through France, laying waste the coimtry, and collecting supplies for his army. His cav- alry and chariots of war (which are then for the last time mentioned in history,) performed this duty so completely, tiiat the Parisians despatched Eudes, who had succeeded SIEGE OF PARIS RAISED. 65 Hu^o the AbLot, in the command of the place, to tlje Emperor Charles the Gross, with an account of their situation, and supplications for relief. Charles sent Henry, Duke of Saxony the perfidious agent in the murder of Godfrey, to try if his courage could extinguish the flame which his treachery had kindled. But as the Duke led but few troops, he could only throw himself into the city with provisions and reinforcements. Shortly afterwards, in an attempt to reconnoitre the lines of the besiegers, this- leader fell, horse and man, into a ditch covered with loose straw, laid upon slight hurdles, out of which he could not extricate himself, but was lain, and spoiled of his armour. Paris was now more exposed than ever, for the troops of Henry of Saxony disbanded after his death. Eudes was now, as we have said. Count of Paris, and did what man could to animate the spirit of resistance. Another great danger was indeed approaching the Parisians. It was the heat of summer, 'and the river Seine became so low as to be fordable. Suddenly, at the hour of dinner, when the besieged kept but slender watch, the Normans rushed to the river side in one or two bodies, .plunged in, and, gaining the opposite bank, began to ascend, by lad- ders, the low walls, with which, trusting to the usual depth of the water, its margin had been defended. A few gallant French champions rushed to arms, and made good the defence, till more came up, and drove back the besiegers, cliiefly by the aid, according to the clergy, of the relics of St. Genevieve, which were displayed upon the rampart. The day after these extreme dangers, the banners of France appeared on the hill called Mont-Martre, which is hard by Paris, and the approach of the army of the em- peror diffusing the utmost joy and hope among the citi- zens, obliged the Normans to retire within their own lines. Sigefroy was at bay, but he was a lion ; and Charles the Gross deserved his name too well to under- take such a risk, as his ancestor, Charlemagne, would 944 66 DEPOSITION OF CHARLES THE GROSS. have willingly ventured upon. So soon as the Empero? was convinced that the Normans would abide the evenl of battle, or prosecute their siege of Paris, even in his very sight, if he lay still to await the event, he resolved to end the war by treaty, which he became unwilling to peril upon the event of a battle. By a base composition, he agreed to purchase the retreat of the Normans (whom his own treachery had been the cause of bringing to Paris,) for a sum of seven hundred pounds of silver, and consented that the foreigners should take up their winter quarters in Burgundy. For this purpose, the Normans desired to ascend the- Seine, and Charles would have been willing to permit them to pass under the armed walls of Paris, which they had so often assaulted in vain. But the Parisians, who were conscious that they owed their escape from plunder, conflagration, and massacre, more to their own vigilance and bravery, than to the tardy aid of the Emperor, refused to permit the Norrnana to approach so near their ramparts, that a breach of faith might have endangered their city. Sigefroy and his Normans, therefore, had no other or convenient road to Burgundy, than to draw their light galleys over land, and again to launch them in the river Seine, at a certain dis- tance above Paris ; and so loaded with spoil, they left the neighbourhood of the metropolis, whose dignity they had so long insulted. As Charles the Gross had made a great effort through- out all his dominions, to collect the army which he head- ed on this occasion, and, as very decisive and triumphant results had been anticipated, his subjects were equally mortified and incensed at the paltry and dishonourable treaty, by which he bought what he might have gained by the sword. Domestic quarrels with .his nife, arising out of jealousy, increased the pain, mortification, and dishonour of his situation. His senses appear to have given way under these complicated distresses. He sunk into a kind of idiocy ; and it was only by the charity of the Bishop of Mentz, that he was saved from being in «v'ant of the most ordinary necessaries of life. Arnold, DEATH OF CHARLES THE GROSS. 67 one of his nephews, was chosen emperor In his pLoe ; and the terms in which Ciiarles petitioned liim for even h bare subsistence, seem to show that his mental disorder had lucid intervals, since he was able to draw so touch- in;^ a picture, of the uncertainty of human affairs. " You," says the deposed emperor, " are now elevated to the state from which I have lately fallen. 1 pray the All-F^crwerful to confirm you in your place, and to grant you the protection which He . has withdrawn from me- You are on the throne, and I am on the dunghill which my niisconduct has spread for myself. The advantages of mind are still at my command ; and no king can grant, or take these away. But for the support necessary to life, I must ask it from others ; and from none so naturally as from yoUj one of the race of my fathers, and holding the place from which 1 have fallen. Among so numerous a household, among so many knights and gentlemen, who share your bounty daily, the simple necessaries of life bestowed on an old man will be no additional burden." The new emperor was touched by the petition of his humbled predecessor, and fixed upon him the rent of some villages for his maintenance. Charles the Gross did not long survive his humiliation, dying (as some say] by assassination, shfirtly after he was deposed. (A. D. 888.) 68 ELEVATION OF EUDES CHAPTER V. Elevation of Eudes to the Throne of France — Disor- ders during the reign of Charles the Simple — En* croachrnents of the JVobiliiy — The Feudal System-^ Its uidvantages and Disadvantages — Invasion of Rol- lo, ivho obtains the Duchy of JVormandy, and the Daughter of Charles the Simple in Marriage — Death of Charles — Reign of Louis d^Outremer — Descent of Hugo the Great, ancestor of the Bourbons — Reign of Lothaire — War with JVormandy, and ivith Ger- many — Dissatisfaction of the French on account of Lothaire^s Treaty with Germany — Reign of Louis the Faineant, the last of the Carlovingian Dynasty. We have seen that Arnold, a prince of the blood of Charlemagne, was chosen emperor on the deposition of the unfortunate Charles the Gross. In that part of the deposed monarch's dominions, however, which retained the name of France, the inhabitants appear to have de- termined to seek for the virtues and talents of Charle- magne elsewhere than in his line, where these fair quali- ties seem to have become extinct. Eudes, the valiant Count of Paris, so distinguished for his defence of that town, and dear to the people both for his own and his father's virtues, was elevated to the throne by the voice of the people. He showed himself worthy of their good o]tinion ; for when he proposed himself to the Emperor Arnold, as a candidate for the crown of France, he declared himself willing to resign his pretensions, rather than incur the guilt of causing a civil war. The Empe- ror, struck with the generosity of Eudes, at once ac- knowledged his title ; and he entered accordingly upon the government of France. But either the talents and courage of Eudes, though allowed to be great, were iuadeqviate to the purpose of saving this distractnd king^ TO THE THRONE OF FllANCE. C9 dom, or at least he had no opportunity of exercising them to that extent. The harassing and repeated encroachments of tlie Normans, and tlie reheUions among his own subjects, continued, although the courage of Eudes repressed the one, and subdued the other. (A. D. 898.) He died, esteemed as a patriot monarch by the common people, whom he protected, but detested by the nobility, whom he endeavoured to subject to the strict dependence on the crown, from which they were in the course of altogether freeinfj themselves. We shall here- after see, that he was an ancestor of the royal lamily of Bourbon. Eudes left a son, Arnold ; but he did not succeed to the crown of thorns worn by his fither, it being occupied by Charles, a prince of the Carlovingian race, being the son of one of this degenerate family, called Louis the Stammerer. This Charles wanted neither courage nor good nature. Indeed, it seems to have been an excess of the last, joined to a great degree of indolence, which pro- cured him the historical distinction of The Simple, which he does not seem otherwise to have deserved. Under the reign of so weak a prince, the disorders of the state, which had already risen to so great a pitch, had become general and systematic. To understand this, you have only to recollect, that in the time of Charlemagne, who held his sceptre with a firm hand, governments, offices, and even landed estates, were only granted for life to such individuals as the Emperor chose to distinguish. At the death of the person who held the benefice, as tlie subject of the grant was called, it passed again to the crown, and was conferred elsewhere. But in the de- clining state of the Frencii monarchy, the great men who were in j)ossession of offices or lands, were naturally desirous of perpetuating their authority in .their offices, and their property in estates, to their families. Hence arose, at first in a few instances and at length from gene- ral custom, the formidable novelty, that the vassal had an heieditary interest in the fief, and that, far Irom falling, on the death of the original holder, it was transmitted to 70 THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. his eldest son as a matter of right, he being of course obliged to perform the same services to wliicli his ances- tor had subjected himself by accepting the benefice in the first instance. Thus the nobles of the first rank, who now took the title indifferently of Duke. Mar- quis, Count, or the like, were no longer the mere del- egates of tlie sovereign who had conferred the gift upon their predecessors, but in all respects, except the title, formed an order of petty kings, distributing justice in their own right, coining money, making laws and ordi- nances, and, except the deference and allegiance which they owed to their superior, the monarch wlio originally conferred the fief, acting as independent princes, each in his own province. In the courts of these petty princes or great vassals of the crown, the same form of feudal grants took place. The Duke, Count, or Marquis, assigned ofBces, connect- ed with his owA little court, and distributed lands to nobles of lower rank, on condition of obtaining their assistance in war and their counsels in peace, being the services which the great vassal himself rendered to the sovereign. These tenures descended still lower. Thus, if the great vassal bad his officers of the household, and his soldiers, who gave him their service, and that of their fol- lowers in war, each of these persons had their own house- hold arranged on the same footing, difFei-ing only as their vassals and dependants were fewer in number, and less libe- rally recon)pensed. The system descended so low, that even private gentlemen had their domestic establishments upon a scale resembling that of the sovereign himself; and though he had only the rank of a vassal, while rendering his attend- ance on the court of the lord from whom he held his fief, each was, notwithstanding, himself a prince when seated ifi his own tower, and surrounded by his own dependants, bearing the pompous epithets of chief steward, chief butler, or grand huntsman, and distinguished as such by these duties at home and abroad. V'vhen this system of feudal dependence, from the high- est to the lowest rank of society, began to assume the » LEOBES AND SERFS. 7l. form of fixed and assured law, it produced an influence upon government and manners, which was, on several accounts, extremely advantageous, and on others very much the reverse. In the first point of view, it gave a higj] tone of independence and courage to tlie nation, thus divided into vassals and superiors, each, from tlie private gentleman to the sovereign upon the throne, ren- dering the same or similar service to his superior, wliicii ho received from his vassals, all jealous of their privileges as freemen, tenaeiously fond of their personal rights, and equally so of their military reputation. Each vassal paid to his superior that service and homage which his fief, in its peculiar nature, required ; but that being once dis- charged, his obligation was ended, and he was as free a man as his superior himself. Tliis proud refiectioa seem- ed the more justly founded, that those vassals who had divided and subdivided among them the province of Gaul, were almost all descended from the Franks, Bur- gundians, and other tribes of the barbarous but free con- querors of the Roman state, equal, therefore, from the beginning, as natives of the same tribe of freemen, who acknowledged no distinction. You will recollect that these conquerors seized upon two-thirds of the land, and appor- tioned it among themselves, assuming the title of Leodes, signifying freemen. The Roman colonists, on the other hand, whom the barbarians had subdued, were permitted to cultivate the remaining third, which was left by the conquerors for their subsistence. It was by their hands that almost all the agriculture of the country was carried on, which necessary, though irksome task, the Leodes left to tiie charge of the serfsr,or bondsmen, for to that station were \hc. unhappy Romans reduced, and by that disgraceful ep- ithet were they known. Not only did their labours supply the country with corn, but such tribute as was levied in the province, was exclusively paid by this degraded class of the nation. The freeman hunted, fished, or went to war, at the call of his superior, or his own inclination ; but he paid no tax, and pat his hand to no labour. The pasturages were stocked with cattle, often the spoils of war, whlvh , 72 INDEPENDENCE OF THE were kept eitlier by serfs or domestic slaves ; for b>;th kinds of servitude were known to the Frencli, and tl)e laws of war placed the captive at the pleasure of the conqueror, unless he was able to purchase his freedom by a ransom. It naturally followed, that the men who thus enjoyed in- dependence, and escaped every species of toil except that of warfare, were a bold and high-spirited race, and that sensible of the value of their freedom, accustomed to connect their liberty with the feats of their ancestors, they were alive to every encroachment upon it, and always ready to vindicate what they held so dear, from the slight- est attack of domestic oppression. Their nobles and gentry grew up a fine race, and were improved by such Normans as settled among them ; and you will presently see that the numbers of these were very great. They were ready warriors, generous, and true to their word, and in so far the character of the French nation was highly improved by the introduction of the feudal system. In other respects, the independence of the crown vas- sals on the king, and that of the barons of the second order upon the crown vassals, an independence which descended to the lowest link of the feudal chain, formed but a feeble system of government, and gave an insecu- rity to the ties which bound together the national compact. Tlie whole kingdom, instead of a country having one in- terest and one government, seemed at first sight divided among the great vassals of the crown, none of whom was disposed to admit the king to possess or exercise more power over him than the monarch was strictly en- titled to by the rules of the feudal tenure. This spirit of resistance was the more awake, as these great feudatories considered the diminution of the king's influence as the ready mode of increasing their own, and many probably looked forward to the time when each grand vassal might altogether shake himself free from the feudal yoke, and possess his dukedom or county in his own right, as an independent prince. Upon looking at the condition of the crown vassals more f^losely, it might be observed, that the same pnuci- FRENCH VASSALS. 73 pie of disunion which induced them to encroach upon the rightful claims of the crown for obedience and support, was undermining their own, and that their vassals and de- pendants were frequently disposed to refuse that service to them which they hesitated to grant to the crown. It was the result of both circumstances, that the unanimous power of the nation could not be easily exerted, while it was divided and torn asunder by so many subjects of dis- pute and hostility. To this disunion was also to be attributed the oppressive rights assumed by the feudal lords within their own territories, where the barons of in- ferior rank, without even the pretence of right or justice, oppressed and ruined the unhappy serfs, and robbed, spoiled, and murdered without any check, save their own haughty pleasure. It could not be said, as an excuse for these abuses, that there was no king in France, but it might have been well urged, that the crown, besides being placed on the head of the simple Charles, was divested in a great measure of that authority which prevents crimes, and the power which inflicts upon them condign punishment. Amid these internal disorders of the French, the re- peated invasions of the Northmen assumed an aspect so formidable, that it was plain they were not made with the mere purpose of spoil, but in order to establish a lasting conquest either of the whole kingdom, or of some of its principal provinces. A large army and fleet of this brave and lawless people appeared at the mouth of the Seine, formidable from their unwonted degree of discipline, and the respect and obedience which they paid to their prince. This was Hrolfe, or Roilo. By birth he was son of the King of Denmark, distinguished by his conduct in many expeditions both in Britain and France, and hav- ing in his personal character a respect for truth and fidelity to his word, which was not a usual characteristic of his countrymen. One large body of his forces sailed up the river Loire, and destroyed the cathedral of St. Marlio of Tours, the same patron of whose rigid exactions Clovis 4 VOL. 1. 4th Ser. 74 INVASION OF ROLLO. foniieily complained, and whose shrine had been enriclied in propurtion to liis popularity. Anotlier body, com- manded by Rollo in person, ascended the Seiue, took the city of Rouen, and treating the inliabitants wiili mode- ration, fixed tlieir head-quarters there, and deposited within its walls the spoil which they accumulated fjoin al! parts of the province of Neustria, of which Rouen is the caj)ital. Charles the Simple, though courageous enough in his person, was, according to the indolent habits of his race, desirous of putting a stop to this peril by composition rather than by battle. He made a truce with the Norman prince, In order, as he pretended, to give time for a more solid peace. But by the advice of Richard, Duke of Burgundy, Charles broke the truce lie had himself made, and engaged in hostilities. Rollo was defeated near Chartres, owing, it is said, to the excitation given to the French by the appearance of the Bishop of Chartres, in front of tlie battle, in his episcopal robes,* and holding in his hand the supposed veil of the Virgin. After the bat- tle, the victors drew a circumvallation around a hill to which Rollo had retreated with the remainder of his army. But the Norman was not without his resource. He alarmed the camp of the French by a charge blown near to their bulwarks at the dead of night, and while the be- siegers were run^ning about in terror and disorder, the Norman prince cut his way through them, and his army being greatly reinforced, soon found the. means of mak- ing more merciless havoc than he had done before the truce. Charles was now obliged to resume his negotiations with the Norinan prince, with more good faith than for- niorly. Using the Bishop as an ambassador, he suggested to Rollo, that if he consented to embrace tlie Christian religion, and assume the character of a loyal vassal, the king was willing to confer upon him as a fief the fertile province hitherto called Neustria. This princely district Charl'Hs proposed as the dowery of his daughter Gisele, ROLLO MADE DUKE OF NORMANDY, iO who was to become tne wife of RoUo, although she was only len or twelve years old, and her redoubted bride- groom fifty years at least. Rollo accepted of these fa- vourable terms, with the sole addition, that as Neustria, the name of which he chan^^ed to Normandy, was ex- hausted by his previous ravages, he stipulated that part of Bretagne, or Brittany, should be assigned to him in the interim, for the more easy support of liis army. Rollo adopted tlie Christian faith with sufficient decency, and at the font exciianged the heathen name of Rollo for that of Robert. But wlien the new Duke was to receive in- vestiture of Normandy from Charles, his pride was startled at the form, which required him, in acknowledgment of tlie favour bestowed on him, to kneel to his liege lord, and kiss his foot. " My knee shall never bend to mortal," said the haughty Norman ; " and I will be, on no account, persuaded to kiss the foot of any one whatever." The French counsellors present suggested that thiii difficulty might be surmif^unted by Rollo, or Robert, appointing a deputy to kiss, in his name, the foot of Charles, Ac- cordingly, the Duke commanded a common t'oldier to perform the ceremony in his stead. The man showed the small value he attached to the ceremony, by the careless and disrespectful manner in which he performed it. Instead of kneeling to salute the royal foot, he caught it up and performed the ceremony by lifting it to hij mouth. In this awkward operation, the rude Norman well-nigh overturned the simple ?ving. throne and all, and exposed him to the laughter of all around. The essentials of the treaty were more satisfactorily settled.- Rollo entered upon his new dominions, and governed them with the strictest justice, becoming, from a fierce and lawless pirate, a w-ise and beneficent prince. He was so severe in the execution of robbers, the multi- tude of uiiom was one of the great abuses of his time, that at engiii, it is said, rings of gold were exposed pub- licly in waste places, without incurring the least risk thai any one should take them away. The very exclamation 76 SETTLEMENT OF NORMANU'S. of the name of Raou., or RoUo,* was, long after tlie good prince's death, uttered by persons who were suffering what they conceived to be injustice. Hence the -frequent repetition of " Haro! and Well away !" as expressions of sorrow, in our ancient authors. The Norman followers of Rollo were also converted to the Christian creed, and reclaimed from the errors of paganism. They abandoned the bloody ritual of their own ancient faith, without losing any part of the dauntless courage and contempt of death which it inspired. Tliey also received readily such ideas of honour as the French began to entertain, which after- wards led to the system of chivalry ; and under that process we shall soon see the Normans distinguished for the eagerness with which they tempered their courage and contempt of danger with tlie high-minded metaphysics of Love and Honour. This is easily understood, if we consider, that the hardest pebbles are most fit to receive the highest polish. The state of Normandy, thus established in independ- ence, save the uncertain allegiance of its Duke being a crown vassal to the sovereign of France, was destined, a century afterwards, to give a dynasty of kings to England, and has been rendered illustrious by producing as many men of courage and gallantry as have ever adorned any country of the world. The unfortunate Charles the Simple was so sunk in Indolence, that he added to his other vteaknesses that of throwing himself and his affairs into the hands of a gen- tleman named Haganon, of moderate birth, and as mode- rate talents. To this obscure and unworthy favourite Charles was so obviously and extravagantly attached, that I'he Duke of Saxony said, " Surely these men are so much united, that by and by they will be equal in con- * Pronouncerl Haro, which shows, that the strict course of justice for which this duke of Normandy was famous, had commenced liefore he had adopted the Christian name of Robert, flare is the word still used in ihf .'iourls of Jersey and Guernseyj when a judgment is complained of, and an ap;)eal entered. DEATH OF CHARLES THE SIMPLE. 77 dition, either by Haganon becoming a king, like Ciiarles or Charles a private gentleman, like Haganon." This unworthy attachment was the source of various rebellions, in repressing which, Charles showed himself to advantage, as a man of action, killing with liis own hand one of his most formidable competitors. But in counsel he was as rash and impolitic as ever. His reign was disturbed, not only by the invasion of bands of Nor- mans, whom the Duke of Normandy's success had drawn to the shores of France by shoals, but that of Hungari- ans, or Bulgarians, a people descended from the ancient Huns. These barbarians were guilty of great cruelty; leavinga terrible impression upon the minds of the French, which is said to survive in the nursery tales concerning the cannibals called Ogres, the origin of which is to be found in the atrocities of the Bulgarians, or Huns, of the ninth and tenth centuries. At length, amidst these disasters, the simple King Charles intrusted himself in the power t)f a treacherous subject, Hebert, Count of Vermandois, one of his over- grown vassals, who, after a show of great respect, seized upon his person, and imprisoned him in the Castle of Peronne. Here he is at length supposed to have been murdered. Rodolph succeeded Charles, who, as regards the line of Charlemagne, may be termed a usurper, for he was not descended from that emperor. He filled the throne for fourteen years of perpetual war and tumult, which his talents, though considerable, were unequal to subdue effectually. (A. D. 936.) Charles the Simple had left a child, Louis by name, who, upon his fatl)er's death, had been transjjorted to iCngland by his mother, Ogene, or Theagine, who was an English woman, born soon after Rodolph's death. He received encouragement to return and assume the, throne nf France, when he became distinguished by the title of Louis d'Outremer, or from beyond sea. Like his predcj-- cessors he was involved in the quarrels and intrigues of 78 DESCENT OF HUGO THE GREAT. the Dukes and Counts, ^A ho were too mightj subie s to endure tlie supremacy of the Crown, and whom he coujd only rule by tlie poHcy of stirring up one against tlie other. Louis was called from the scene of dissension by his death, occasioned by his horse falling while at full speed, in pur- suit of a wolf. (A. D. 954.) It was now supposed that the Crown, or at least great part of its remaining authority, would be seized on by Hugo, the Duke of France, called the Great, who had been one of those potent vassals with whom Louis d'Ou- tremer had been repeatedly at war during his life. It is certain that this peer, then the most -powerful in Francs, was descended from Robert, called the Strong, who flourished in the ninth century. Flattery, for the gratifi- cation of his descendants, has invented several genealo- gies for this person, one of which connects him with Charlemagne, though by an illegitimate branch. 'It is more certain that his successors rose to great consequence^ His eldest son, Ehjdes, distingliished at the siege of Paris, was afterwards chosen King of Aquitaine, and was pro- claimed King of Western France, in 888 ; but his line was extinguished in the person of his son Rodolph. The second son of Robert the Strong, was that Robert IL, Duke of France, who made war against Charles the Simple, and whom that monarch is said to have slain with his own hand. The grandson of Robert L, and son of Robert H., was this Hugo, called the Great, Duke of France and Burgundy, and Count of Paris. He had va- rious disputes with Louis the Ultramarine, so that, as we have hinted, it was expected by many that at his death the Duke would have seized on the crown, which had l>een worn by his uncle Eudes. But Duke Hugo, as was projihesied of Banquo, was destined, though he never wore the crown himself, to be father of the powerful family of Bourbon, so distinguished in past ages for their power, and in our own for their misfortunes. The Duke Hugo, of whom we have spoken, folhjwed the dictates of principle rather than ambition. He took up the cause of Louis's son Lothaire, a boy of about WAR WITH GERMANy. 79 fourteen }"ears old, and conducted hirn to Rheims, wliera ne directed the ceremony of his coronation, and aftei'wards deported himself" in every respect as a dutiful subject. He defeated the Count of Poitiers in a decisive battle, and gave a sharp lesson of submission to the great vas- •sals who miglit be disposed to rebel against the king. In the subsequent year he died, leaving behind him four sons. The eldest, Hugo, was distinguished from his /ather of the same name, by the surname of Capet, (or Caput,) but whether from the unusual size of his head, or the extent of his powers of understanding, is somewhat uncertain. The brothers of Hugo Capet were Otho, Eudes, and Henry, wiio were successively Dukes of Burgundy. For Hugo himself, fate reserved a fairer diadem. Lothaire, sensible of the father's merits, received the sons into favour, and acknowledged them as successors in the fiefs of the great Hugo. But he embroiled himself in a quarrel with Duke Kichard, of Normandy, the second successor of Rollo, or Robert I., in that almost independ- ent princii)ality ; and, by advice of Theobald, Count of Chartres, called the Tiickster, endeavoured to overreach him by inviting him to an interview. Duke Richard com- plied wltli the invitation without hesitation, and set out on his journey to the place appointed. He was met by two knights of tlie Count of Chartres, who, pitying his unsuspicious loyalty, gave him indirect notice of the design against his person, by asking him, whether he was tired of his ducal coronet, and had a mind to become a shepherd. Duke Richard, taking the hint which this question conveyed, rewarded the knights who gave it, bestowing on the one a gold chain which he wore, and on the other his sword. He instantly returned to Rouen, and took up arms against the treacherous king, obtaining such succours from his original country of Denmark, as soon brought Lothaire to request a peace, which wa.> made accordingly. Another war broke out between Lothaire, King of Francp, and Otho, Emperor of Germany. Lothaire 80 PEATH OF LOUIS THE FAINEANT. showed, in the commencement, both spirit and activity. He marched with such rapidity upon Aix-la-Cbapelle, tl)at he had nearly made the Emperor prisoner, vvho fledj leaving liis dinner ready prepared and placed on the table. Otho, to revenge this insult, invaded France with sixty thousand men, and advanced to the gates of Paris, send- ing word to Hugh Capet, count of the city, that he would cause a mass to be sung on the summit of Mont JMartre, by so many voices, that the Count should hear the sound in the Isle of Paris. The King of France and Hugo Capet revenged this insult by a rapid movement to the relief of Paris, and defeated the Germans with very great slaughter. A nephew of Otho, who had sworn (for oaths of chivalry vt'ere then becoming fashionable) to strike his lance into the gate of Paris, was slain in the^ battle. But Lothaire lost the fruit of this victory by acceding to a peace, which disappointed the hopes of his subjects, and especially of the army, elated by victory. Conscious of a loss of reputation, he endeavoured to strengthen himself in the love and affection of his subjects, by raising to be the partner of his throne his son Louis, known by the discreditable title of the Faineant, or Foolish. But Lothaire was not permitted to receive any benefit, if such could accrue, from such a stroke of poli- cy, as he died at Rheinis immediately afterwards, and no* without the suspicion of poison. (A. D. 987.) Louis, called the Faineant, did nothing which could be termed inconsistent with his name. He quarrelled with the queen, and wellnigh engaged in a new war with Ger- many. But before he had reigned fourteen months, he died under the same suspicion of poison which attached to his father's demise. This weak and unhappy prince was the last of the Cailovingian race, which had occu- pied the throne of France for upwards of two hundred and thirty years. REIGN OF HUGO CAPET. 81 CHAPTER VI. Causes which led to the Third Change of Dynasty — Accession and Reign of Hugo Capet, son of Mvgo the Great — Reign of Robert the Wise — Dissensions hetxveen Robert's Sons — Accession of Henry I. — Pil- grimage of Robert Duke of JVormandy to the Holy Land — His son William (afterxvards the Conqueror of England ) left at the Head of the Government oj JVormandy — War between JVormandy and France — Defeat of the French at Mortemart — Pacif cation between the two Countries — Death of Henry I. You must keep in memory, that since the institution of the government of France as a monarchy, two races of kings had existed. The Long-haired monarchs, or kings of the Merovingian race, who sank under the rising for- tunes of Pepin and Charlemagne, were the first dynasty. The Carlovingian race, deriving the ti%le from Charles the Great, which superseded that of Merovreus, and reigned in his stead, constituted the second. The third change of dynasty, which took place at the death of Louis le Faineant, may be attributed to causes which shall be shortly touched upon, 1. Under neither of these dynasties was the right of hereditary succession so well defined and understood as it was latterly. The brother often succeeded to a deceased monarch, instead of his son, without reference to the de- gree of propinquity to the last king. After the deposi- tion of the Merovingian line, the Bull of Pope Zachari- ns, which assigned the royalty to the race of Pepin, enjoined the French in future, in choosing their emperor to select him exclusively from the race of the chosen candidate, to whose family it stood limited. This limi- tation, however, did not establish a strict hereditary line of succession, for, as understood in practice, it was sufE- 945 62 DECAY OF THE CARLOVINGlAN KINGS. ciently adhered to, provided the candidate for sovereignly was of the race of Pepin or Char'einaojic ; so that the empire lay o^oen as an object of temptation fo- all who boasted a descent from the chosen family, however dis- tant from the right of succession in a direct line. The consequence was, that as the covetous eyes of so many orinces were fixed on the same tempting object, the want of a regular and fixed rule of inheritance occasioned great disputes, which led to the repeated division and subdivi- sion of the royal dominions, not only weakening the body of the empire, but often terminating in bloody civil wars, hy which it was still farther torn to pieces. II. Tlie empire of Charlemagne, comprehended a huge mass of territory, extending from the Tiber to the Elbe, and from the Pyrenean mountains to the borders of Hun- gary, consisting of many nations, diifering in descent, laws, language, and manners whom chance and the abil- ities of one individual bud unif^d for a time under one government, but which had an internal propensity to fall asunder so soon as the great mind which held them together was removed. Hence, it was not long before the kingdom of prance was separated from that of Italy, and from the empire, latterly so called, of Germany. III. The grants which were made to the great officers of state, and vassals of the crown, had their natural influ- ence in impoverishing the monarchs of France ; so that, during the reign of the two or three last monarchs of the Cariovingian line, almost every considerable city in the kingdom was in possession of some duke, count or baron, who collected revenue from it, excepting only Laon and Rheims, and some family estates, which the kirfgs possessed on the same footing, and managed in the same manner, as they would have been administered by private individuals. The Cariovingian family bemg reduced to so low an ebb in point of power and wealth, it was not to be won- dered at, if the nobility of France resolved to fill the Shrone with some more powerful prince. Charles, Duke of Lorraine was, no doubt, the brother of Lothaire, and 4* HUGO CAPET CHOSEN KINO OF FRANCE 83 the next heir, therefore, to Louis le Faineant, his deceas- ed nephew. But he was far inferior in talents to Hugo Capet, who had long been esteemed the first man of the kingdom in point of wealth, the second probably in point of rank, and the first in actual power. He was Duke of Burgundy and Aquitaine, Count of Paris and Orleans, and in addition to tl)ese dignities, bore even the title of Duke of France, though antiquaries do not fully state ihe import of this last title. He brought far more wealth to the crown of France, than he could inherit by succeed- ing to it, and he was known to his contemporaries as the best general and wisest statesman of his time. Hugo Capet availed himself so well of these advantages, that, on the death of Louis le Faineant, he assembled the states of the kingdom, consisting probably of the princi- pal crown vassals, with the bishops and prelates, and by unanimous assent was chosen King of France. With a yiew, probably, to establish the security of the crown in his own family, Hugo Capet, who had already been successful against some of the lords who had refused him their allegiance, proposed to associate his son Robert in the same dignity, and obtained the assent of the States to that association. Having thus, as far as human prudence could command the future, done his best to secure the crown in his fan)ily, Hugo Capet laid aside the royal state and kingly attire, and lived simply and modestly, as before his accession to the throne. Charles of Lorraine, the Carlovingian heir to the crown, attempt- ed, though tardily, to vindicate the succession, but was surprised and made prisoner by the elected monarch ; and being thrown into prison at Orleans, was detained there till his death. The son of Cliarles succeeded him m the Duchy of Lorraine, but died without male issue ; and in his person, the legitimate succession of the renowned Charlemagne became extinct. (A. D. 99L) The head of the new race of kings behaved wiih a wisdom and steadiness which tended to secure the suc- cession of his family ; for though brave men may gain kingdoms, it is wise men only who can transmit them to 64 REIGN OF ROBERT THE WISE* tlieir lineage. Hugo Capet bent his mind to soothe all discontents, and to please every class of his subjects. He flattered and gratified the clergy by resigning 'to them such abbeys as he possessed, and induced many of his nobles to follow his example, for which he was highly lauded by the church. As a wise man, he saw the danger arising to :he king- dom from the independent state of the turbulent nobility ; but he saw, also, that the evil was too great to be reme- died, and was contented to confine himself to slow and temporising measures. He demanded little more from the crown vassals than the homage, which, while he lim- ited his claim to it, they had no interest to refuse, and while he encouraged them to weaken each other by intestine wars, he determined silently to await the time when by degrees the power of the crown should rise upon their ruins. The spirit of the present race of nobles was such as would have endured no control ; for when Audibert, Vicomte of Periguex, laid siege to the city of Tours, and the king wrote to him commanding him to desist, asking him reproachfully who had made him vicomte, the feudal chief replied with scorn it was those who had made Ca- pet king ; and persevered in his attack upon Tours, in defiance of the royal mandate. The monarch passed over an insult which he had not sufficient power to revenge. By a rare mixture of wisdom and firmness, this king transmitted to his family a throne to which he had no hereditary right, with little opj)osiiion, and almost without bloodshed. (A. D. 996.) He died, leaving his dominions in perfect tranquillity, after a reign of eight years. Robert, son of Hugo Capet, long associated with his father, was now sole king. He followed in all respects the sagacious and prudent measures of his predecessor, who had bred him up to an ultimate acquaintance wilh his far-sighted and calm policy. From tlie steadiness of bis conduct, the new king acquired the distinction of The Wise. ROBERT SUt;CEEDS HUGO CAPET. 85 For securing the succession, in particular, Robert fol- owed his lather's policy, which seems for some time to have been pecuhar to the Capet familyj at least to their earher princes. He caused his son Hugh to be joined in the government, and he having died without issue, Robert's second son, Henry, was crowned in the same manner, ten years after. By this provision, the chance of an alteration in the succession was much diminished, since the lineal successor was placed in possession of the regal power before the death of his predecessor, and so might instantly assume the reigns of government when that e\'ent took place. The peace of Robert was somewhat disturbed by the political intrigues of his two successive queens, to whose ambition he appears to have given more free course than consisted with the prudence of his character in other re- spects. He had also some trouble from the disobedience of his sons ; but these were only passing disturbances, and soon appeased. The reputation of Robert for wisdom and justice stood so high, that the Emperor of Germany having some dis- pute with the Count of Flanders, and others of his vas- sals, both parties agreed to refer them to the decision of the King of France. Upon this business the two princes had a meeting on the banks of the Meuse. In these un- happy times, such meetings had, from infidelity on the one part or the other, often ended in assassination. The ministers on both sides had accordingly adjusted articles of meeting in person, by which it was proposed, that the two pnnces should leave the opposite sides of the river, and meet at the same moment in the middle. But the generous emperor, confident in the character of King Robert, set ceremony and suspicion at defiance, and, crossing the Meuse without scruple, surprised the King of France with a visit in his camp. After thus dispensing with all etiquette, the business in dependence was settled to the satisfaction of all parties. Two years after this interview, the good Einjieror, B6 REIGN OF ROBERT THE WISE Henry died, and was succeeded in his German dominions by Conrade, Duke of Worms. The Itahan suhjects of Henry by no mea'-.s wished to share tlie same fate, and intimated their desire to submit themselves to the King of France, to whom accordingly they offered the imperi- al crown, and the kingdom of Italy. But Robert, thougli this acquisition of another fair portion of Constantine's empire was a brilliant and tempting offer, perceived at the same time he should, by accepting it, be hurried into a German war, for the sake of a territory separated from France by the line of the Alps, and by no means likely to form either an obedient or a useful part of that kingdom. He therefore wisely rejected the dominion offered to him, considering it preferable to increase his influence by the improvement of his kingdom at home, than to expend its strength in the task of making himself master of impos- ing but useless and unprofitable acquisitions of foreign territories. King Robert's domestic government was of the same judicious and moderate character which distinguished his foreign politics. He used his royal power for the bene- fit of his subjects, and protected the lower and oppressed part of them, as much as the temper of the times per- mitted. His private charity was so extensive, that up- wards of a thousand poor persons dined at his expense every day, and, in the excess of his royal humility, were, notwithstanding their disgusting rags and sores, permitted to apjH'oach his person. It is pretended he used to exer- cise upon them the supposed gift, claimed afterwards both by the Kings of France and England, of curing the dis- ease; called the king's evil, by their touch and their pray- ers. King Robert I. of France died universally regret- ted In 1031. Upon the death of Robert I., the line of Capet began to show some symptoms of the dissension which had brought to ruin those of Merovseus and of Charles the Great. The succession ' of Henry, the eldest sen and "ightful heir of Robert, was disputed by his younger orother Robert. He was encouraged by his mother, who DEATH OF ROBERT THE WISE. 87 had always hated Henry, and by several powerful nobles, who were probably unwilling that in another reign resembling in mocleration and firmness that of Robert 1., the crown should again obtain the advantage which such a tranquil period afforded the king over his nobility. Robert took his measures so suddenly, and was so well supported, that Henry, with a retinue of only ten or eleven persons, was fiiin to save himself from captivity, by flying to the country of Robert, then Duke of Nor- mandy, for protection. He was received in the strong castle of Fescanip, and the duke, discharging the duty of a faithful vassal, raised all. his forces in defence of his liege lord, against the traitorous attempts of his younger brother. The Duke of Normandy advanced into France with his forces, and ravaged the country with such extreme severity, that he obtained for himself the nick- name of Robert h Diable, or Robin the Devil, which gave rise to several fabulous legends, by which minstrels and romancers attempted to account for the origin of so strange an ejjithet. The two armies were on the point of enirasinii in a decisive conflict, when Robert, returning to a sense of duty, thought it better to submit to his elder brother, than run the risk of so great a crime as that of slaying him. He submitted accordingly, and was reward ed with the Duchy of Burgundy, after which the broth- ers lived in concert together. Duke Robert of Normandy was rewarded with a considerable accession of territory, so that the strife between the brothers, though brief, was attended with the usual consequences of weakening the crown. Henry 1., however, did not lose any opportunity which events offered of strengthening his throne. Disturbances arose concerning part of Burgundy, next to Mount Jura, which was separate from the portion assigned to the king's brother Robert, as above noticed. In the course of the wars which ensued, many forfeitures were made, and the reunion of the fiefs so forfeited with the crown, served to repair the losses it had sustained iii the war between the brothers. 88 REIGN OF HENRY I. Neither (iid Henry I. fail to avail himself of troubles tvhich arose in Normandy, although he owed a great debl of gratitude to the Duke whose timely aid had, as we have seen, replaced him on the throne. This prince, ad- vancing now in age, began to think of making amends for those violent actions which had in the war procured him the title of Robin the Devil. For" this purpose, as was the custom of that superstitious period, he conceived no mode of penitence could be so effectual as to go on a pil- grimage to Palestine, called the Holy Land. The desire to see the scenes of miracles, and sufferings the most momentous which could be undergone, was sufficiently rational, and they might no doubt be often visited with effectual advantage to the pilgrim, since we can never be so much disposed to devotion as when we are placed in the very localities where such events have actually passed. But to forsake the moral duties which we are called to discharge, and to ramble over strange countries, neglect- ing the subjects, families, or whomsoever else have been designed by Providence to rely on our active exertions for support, is gross superstition, not rational religion. At this early period, however, the idea prevailed, thai men obtained by their toils, in such a journey, not only pardon for past faults, but indulgence for such as they should commit in future. Duke Robert of Normandy, then, prepared for his pil-. gimage to Jerusalem. Previous to his departure, he as- sembled a council of his prelates and high vassals ; for you cannot have forgotfen, that, like all other feudatories of France, that prince had his own country divided among vassals, who held of him by the same tenure by which he held his duchy of the King of France. He placed before !.he assembly a son of his own, not born in lawful wed- lock, but the child of a woman named Arlotta. This was the famous William, afterwards Conqueror of Eng- land. This youth was of so fair a person, and such promising talents, that his father, notwitlistanding his illegitimacy, desired he should succeed him as his heir in •^^he dnkedom. He preivailed on the states of Normandy I'lLGRIMAGE TO THE HOLY LAND. 69 10 recognise William in this capacity, recommended l.im to the protection of Henry of France, and Alan, Duke of Bretagne, and having thus provided for his succession, he set off upon his pilgrimage, from which he never re- turned. William, the future Conqueror of England, was thus early put in a conspicuous situation, and was thereby ex- posed to misfortunes and dangers, which undoubtedly contributed to mature and exercise those qualities which form the character of a great man. His feudal vassals, no longer restrained by the authority of the duke himself, took advantage of the minority of the sovereign to enter into feuds with each ether, to raise troops, fortify castles, and levy wars at their own pleasure, without awaiting the consent of William, or regarding his prohibition. On the other hand, King Henry, taking advantage of these trou- bles, invaded the Norman frontiers, burnt the town of Ar- genton, and demolished the Castle of Thilleres, under pretext that it ought not to have been fortified without his consent, as liege lord and paramount. William, or rather those who acted in his behalf, beset with dangers on every side, thought it best to accommodate these quar- rels with the King of France, even at some sacrifices ; and thus for a time secured the alliance and countenance of Henry I. It was time, indeed, to acquire some effectual support, for a considerable number of malecontent Norman lords had formed a league against Duke- William, and had raised an army amounting to twenty-five thousand men, having for its head, Guy of Franche Compte. The united forces of King Henry and the young Duke William, which to- gether did not exceed three thousand men, marched against the insurgents. They engaged the opposing forces near Caen, at a place called F^al de Dimes. Kinii Henry was unhorsed by a Norman knight, and nearly slain ; he was rescued, however, and gained adecis've vie tory, in which very many of the insurgents weie killed Wiiliam, whose subjects were completely reduced to obo 9U NORMAN INSURRECTION SURPRIStO. dieiice, reaped all the advantage of this war. But Henry soon alter engaged in other quarrels and discussions, by which new dissensions were created in Normandy.- These disputes he wilfully fostered, with the view of diminish- ing the strength of this overgrown vassal, which he looked upon as dangerous to the crown. He was not deterred from this interference by the assistance faithfully and loy- ally rendered him by Duke William, in his quarrel with Stephen and Theobald, two sons and successors of Eudes, Count of Champagne, or by the recollection that the Duke of Normandy had involved himself in those quar- rels, purely to serve him. On the contrary, Henry showed either an enmity against William's person, or a jealousy of his power, which he took the following method to manifest : — First, he engaged William of Normandy in a quarrel with Godefroy, Count of Anjou, called by the formidable name of Martel, and thus involved these two great feudatories in a war which must necessarily operate to the diminution of the strength of both. When the Duke of Normandy extricated himself from this struggle also with reputation and advantage, he be- came the object of the unconcealed jealousy and displea- sure of the French king, who then publicly espoused the cause of William of Arques, Count of Toulouse, who laid claim to the duchy of Normandy, as son of Duke Richard II., and therefore rightful heir to. the crown, on account of William's illegitimacy. Henry accordingly en- tered Normandy with a strong army to dispossess the young friend, with whom he had been so lately in alliance. But William was now of an age to display his wisdom and courage. (A. D. 1054.) By a rapid and sudden night attack near Mortemart, and a severe battle on the follow- ing day, he worsted the French army, with the loss often thousand men. This, followed by other severe checks, induced Henry to consent to peace. Cordiality, however, oever was restored between William and the king ; and, in those mutual feuds, first began -that enmity which cost so many bloody wars between the descendants of Henry, CHARACTER OF HENRY 1. .91 King of France, and of William, whose posterity suc- ceeded him as kings of England. After his pacification with the Duke oi iVormandy^ Henry turned himself to that which was a favourite piece of policy in the House of Capet. We have already ex- plained, that this was the association of a successor in the throne, in order to secure stability in the royal suc- cession. Philip, the eldest of Henry's sons, was raised, at the early age of seven years, to share the throne of his father, who died in the same year, leaving his son under the guardianship of Baldwin of Flanders, called, from his worth and religion, the Pious. (A. D. 1060.) Henry left behind him a tolerably fair character, except in regard to his Machiavellian intrigues to diminish the power of his great vassals. It is true, the precarious situation of the kings of France had, for some time, suggested such a pol- icy ; but in following it, Henry I. trampled not only upon the %'irtue of justice, but of gratitude. CHAPTER VH. Minority of Philip — Origin of Chivalry — Training oj the young Knights — Ceremony of conferring Knight- hood — Duties of those who acquired that honour — ■ Devotion to the Fair Sex-^Wager of Battle — Tour- naments — Chivalry took its rise in France — Its Insti- tutions were speedily adopted by the JVormans, who found, a Field for the exercise of their valour in the Wars of Italy — Bravery and Conquests of the Guis- cards — Battle of Durazzo. It is necessary to say little more of the minority of Philip, than that, for a country so disturbed as France, it passed with little interruption of the public peace. This was chiefly owing to the wise government of Count Bald- ivin, who remained always upon his guard against treachery {rem every quarter, taking care, at the same time, to giv« 92 MINORITY OF PHILIP. no pretence for such practices, by offending any of the great nobles. The Gascons indeed, a people of a fiery and changeable disposition, at one period meditated a re- volt. But the Count of Flanders, raising a considerable force, under pretence of threatened invasion by the Sar- acens, led an army so suddenly into Aquitaine, as to render their design abortive. But although France had, in its interior, little materials for history during this period, enterprises were undertaken by individuals ivho emigrated from thence during the reign of Henry I. and the minority of Philip, which strike the mind with astonishment, considering the important effects produced by the desperate courage of a kw men. The ruling character of the agents, in the extraordinary efforts which 1 am about to relate to you, requires now to be stated. It was in many respects different from the prin- ciples by which mere barbarians are guided, but varied no less from those views and notions which direct civilized nations. On this account it becomes necessary, perhaps, to look far back into the commencement of society, to find the original germ of that system of chivalry, which occasioned so many marvellous actions during the middle ages, and, in some important particulars, still preserves its effects apon our present manners. The origin of the institution of knighthood, being the basis of chivalry, may be easily traced. The warriors of the ancient Gallic tribes, who fought on horseback, and were more highly esteemed than the infantry, were teimed, by the Romans, Equites, or horsemen, a rank of soldiery possessing considerable precedence over others. The Germans approached the modern ideas of knighthood more closely. The youth was not accounted fit for shar- ing the councils of his tribe, until the age of twenty-one years was attained, when, certain ceremonies being used, he was brought into the' public assembly, investea with arms resembling those of iiis elder brethren ; and, in short, admitted to all the privileges of an adult warrior. The period of his admission into the councils of the freemen ORIGIN OF CHIVALRY. 93 and warriors of the nation, added, of consequence, to the young man's importance, and quahfied him to act as a chief and principal in war, where his services hitlierto had been only used as a private soldier and follower. These regulations led to the establishment of an order of champions among the Franks, and other German na- tions, who had achieved settlements in Gaul, or France, as it was now called. Those who were ambitious to dis- tinguish tliemselves by military fame, which comprehend- ed, speaking generally, almost all who held fiefs, whethei of the sovereign or the subjects, or who were otherwise entitled to the name of freemen, were carefully educated m horsemanship, the use of the lance and sword, man- agement of the horse, and other warlike exercises. Dur- ing this training, the young men, who were for the time called pages, resided as a part of the household of some king, noble, or man of rank, whose family was supposed to be a school of military discipline. When arrived at a certain age, the page, as able to support tlie duties of war, became an esquire, and waited immediately upon his lord in battle, or during travel, serving him as a close and con- fidential attendant, and always ready to peril his life for him. This, though a species of servitude, was not reck- oned degrading ; but, on the contrary, the candidate for the highest honours of chivalry was not accounted worthy of them, until he liad shown, by the patient obedience of years as a squire, that he was worthy to command others in the capacity of a knight. When he was esteemed fit for the rank, the candidate was then dubbed knight. In the ceremony, some things were taken from the ancient mode of receiving the youths into the councils of the warriors, while their ancestors still inhabited the forests and swamps of Germany. A sword was girded around the aspirant's body ; spurs were bound upon his heels ; the person by whom the ceremony was performed, struck, the acolyto of chivalry on the shoulders with the flat Df his naked sword, and he was thus invested with a nigh military dignity, which, in a certain sense, placed liira, however poor, upon a level with the wealthiest auJ 94 CEREMONY OF MAKING KNIGHTS. most powerful nobles ; for, in theory, all knight; were equal, except in so far as they excelled each other in military fame. Otiser ceiemonies were mingled with those we have mentioned, which had been introduced by the churchmen, who naturally desired to attach to a solem- nit) sostrikingsomethingconnected with the forms of relig- ion. In many cases, accordingly, the young knight watched his arms for the night in some church or chapel, and occupied himself in watching and prayer. He also took a solemn oath to protect, at his utmost risk, the cause of the Catholic religion ; to redress by his valour such wrongs, and abolish such evil customs as he might discover: an Herculean task, at the time when almost every dis- trict groaned under the tyranny of some petty despot, who oppressed the poor without their having any one to aj)peal to. The protection of widows and orphans, and of the female sex in all ranks of society, was also enjoin- ed. Lastly, fidelity to the king, chief, or lord, was sworn to by the young knight. By these means the order of knighthood was rendered in theory an association, bound by oath to forward tlie discharge of all the social duties which religion enjoined. It is not to be supposed that all, or many of the knights thus created, arrived even within a few points of the excellence which they were in this respect required to attain. Some, however, whose character in adhering to these vows, had recommended them to the age as very perfect examples of chivalry, ob- tained the general approbation of prince and people ; and he was most valued who exposed himself to the most ex- travagant dangers in thesupportof his character for courage. It cannot be denied, that while tlie institutions of chiv- alry gave an air of romantic dignity and grandeur to the manners of the age, while the system continued to flour- ish, stigmatizing all that was base and selfish, and encour- aging the knigh.ts, who would be held desirous of public applause, to seek it by exhibiting the purest fiiith, and the most undaunted courage, without being seduced from iheir purpose by the prospect of advantage, or deterred trom it bv the most alarming dangers, there mixed, nc\ DUTIES OF KNIGHTHOOD. 95 ertheless, with these generous maxims, much tJiat was extravagant, wild, and sometimes absolutely ridiculous. Every knight, for example, wag expected to devote his affections to some fair lady, whom he was to serve for years, and with unaltered fidelity, although, perhaps, neither her rank in life, nor her inclinations, entitled him to expect any return of her affections; nay although the lady, having conferred her hand on some other person, could return his supposed passion with no other regard than gratitude might permit. All the deeds of valour which he performed, were supposed to be owing to the influence of this terrestrial goddess, and tlie champions wearied out their imaginations in outvying each other in the feats of arms which they did, or proposed to do, in the name of tlieir mistresses. The system of chivalry also involved the greBt error of intrusting the guardianship of almost all civil riirhts to the decision of the sword, so that it was scarcely possible for a man of low rank to obtain justice, unless he was prepared to figlit for it in the lists, or had some champion willing to fight in his cause. The very sports of chivalry involved the risk of life. The military exercises of tilts and tournaments in which they encountered each other with lances, each endeav- ouring to keep his own saddle, and at the same time to unhorse his antagonist, were their favourite pastime.^ On this occasion each knight supported the beauty and merit of sonie particular lady, the influence of whose charms was supposed to stimulate him to victory, as her fame was, on the other hand, extended by his success. Tliese warlike entertainments were the delight of the age, and though repeatedly prohibited by the cliurch as inhuman and unchristian, were solemnly practised, nevertlieles-i, at the courts of the different sovereigns of Europe, who displayed their magnificence in the splendour with which the feats of chivalry were perfurmed in their own pres- ence, while the ladies looked on from the bal(;onies, to grace the vic^tors with their applause. The oicounter professed to be a friendly one, and amicable trial in arms. 96 TOURNAMENTS. and the combatants expressed the utmost regard for each other. But this did not prevent the hves of many brave champions being lost in the rough sport, which was rather a regular and modified kind of actual battle, than, as it professed to be, a mere imitation of war. It is certain that, from the respect towards the female sex enjoined by the laws of chivalry, our modern times have derived that courteous deference and respect for women, which assigns to the ladies in the cultivated countries of Europe, an importance in society so different from the state of degradation to which they are reduced in other quarters of the world. But it is more difficult to imagine how this high and romantic tone had been breathed into the institutions of the Franks while a bar- barous people. It is probable, that the origin may have been found in the institutions of the old Germans, which, as we before noticed, admitted the females of the tribe to a high degree of estln)ation ; and as they did not permit their youth to marry till twenty-one years complete, their young warriors were trained up in the habit of distant re- spect, awe, and veneration for those who were to be the companions of their future lives. There is no precise account of the origin of chivalry ; but there can be no doubt, that, considered under a mod- ern aspect, that remarkable system had its rise in France, to the natural manners of which country the gallantry and devotion to the fair sex which it dictated — not to mention a certain tone of national and personal vanity which it was well calculated to advance — were peculiarly congenial. In France, the young warrior, when admitted to the dignity of the new order, was called chevalier, that is, horseman, from cheval, a horse, the ancient name ofeques. translated into the language of the country, being seized upon to express the newly inaugurated knight. In Ger- mjiiiy, the equivalent term of ritter. or rider, was made use of. The origin of the English word kni8;ht, which bears the same meaning, is more doubtful. In the Anglo- Saxon language, where the meaning must be sought, CHIVALRY ADOPTED BY THF NORMANS. 9'i knecht signifies a servant, and was applied, by way o( distinction, to the select attendants on the prince (as wc still call a soldier a servant of the king) — a title readily transferred to the newly-dubbed cavalier, as expressing a chosen and trained warrior. The word does not, how- ever, present the idea of the origin of the institution so accurately as either the French or German word. Nor, although the order of chivalry rose to the highest esteem in Britain, do we suppose that it was, in a proper sense, known in that island, till, as you shall presently hear, it was brought thither by the Normans, who travelled in arms into various parts of Europe during the 11th cen- tury, overthrowing ancient kingdoms, establishing new ones, and outdoing, if that were possible, all the wonders and marvels of chivalrous romance, by the display tliey made of it in their own persons. The Normans, we have seen, had now, for a conside- rable time, been inhabitants of France, and established themselves in the province to which they gave their name. They had become softened, rather than corrupted oi subdued, by the advantages and luxuries of their new settlements. They still retained unimpaired the daring and desperate courage with whiclr their fathers had sallied from their frozen oceans to ravage and to conquer the domains of a milder climate ; but they exercised it with more humanity, inspired doubtless by their conversion to Christianity. The new institutions of chivalry were speedily adopted by a iiation which possessed already so many points in common with them. So brave a race, imbued from infancy with the principle that death was preferable, not only to flight, but to the manifestation of the least symptom of fear, thought little of the dangers which might have terrified others in the exercise of chiv- alry. Like other nations of the north also, the Normans had practised, ere they left their own climate, that reve- rentu'l and respectful conduct towards the female set, which was anotlier basis of chivalry. The tilt and toiT- Dfiy were, in the opinion of these warlike nations only a 98 WARS OF ITALY, variation of their own combats with clubs ana swor'Fs, hi which the' pretence was sport, though often turned into earnest by the fury of tlie encounter. Above all, tlie more modern Normans united the utter carelessness of danger, and contempt of life, which characterised theii ancestors who fought under RoUo, with the gay valoui and love of adventure which was proper to the inliabit- ants of France, and which this race kept in practice by the cjuarrels of their duke with his sovereign of France^ and with his compeers, the great vassals of the cj'own. Chivalry flourished in so fertile a soil, and the Norman knights held the first rank among those of Europe. Such being their character, a part of this brave nation found sudden exercise for their feats of arms in the wars of Italy, where they made conquests which flattered their vanity, and gratified their love of glory. To understand this, you must be informed, that, after the descendants of Charlemagne had degenerated into feeble princes, the towns and coasts of Italy became di- vided between the Greeks (who reclaimed the possession of that fine country as the original seat of the empire, which was removed to Constantinople by Constaniine) and the Saracens. The various incursions of the latter people upon the Christian world had been set on foot for the purpose of conquering and converting the provinces which they invaded. They conquered Sicily, and colo- nized it. The dominions of the present kingdom of Naples next invited their arms, and a strong colony, for a long time maintained at Bari, placed the Adriatic gulf under the command of the naval power of die Saracens. Notwithstanding this, the Greeks, a politic and sagacious nation, contrived to recover Bari, and to establish their authority in a great part of the eastern half of Italy. Luxury, and its enervating consequences, had, however, rendered their armies very unfit to meet the eastern fana- tics. But the Empire of Constantinople still commanded the services of experienced and caqtious generals, and they supplied the deficiencies of their own troops by the daring courage of 1 'ranks, Lombards, and other barba- NORMAN AUXILIARIES. 99 rians, whom they engaged in their cause. They were also masters of the art of negotiation, and httle scrupu- lous in keeping the terms which they had made, when an opportunity occurred of gaining an advantage, though at the expense of good faith. By such means, the Greeks maintained a doubtful struggle with the Saracens, which of them should obtain the exclusive possession of Italy. About this period the natives of Normandy, whose temper and habits we have described, began to think of amending their fortunes, by undertaking expeditions on their own account, to free the peninsula of Italy at once from the bondage of the Greeks and of the Saracens. The former they considered as effeminate tyrants, here- tics, also, as the Greek church holds some tenets different from that of Rome. As to the Saracens, their character of infidels was sufficient to render war against them not only lawful, but a religious and meritorious task. The first attempts of these Norman adventurers were under- taken with too great inferiority of numbers, to be deci- dedly successful. For a time they were only remarkable for their desperate courage, which displayed itself in behalf of Germans, Greeks, or even Saracens, who were best able to reward their exertions ; and it was observed that victory seemed to attend in every case the side on which they fought. Their numbers, however, were gradually inci'eased by additional recruits from their own country of Normandy, and by some Italians, who joined their ranks, on the condition of observing their customs, and emulating their valour. In the year 1029, the Normans in Italy assumed a more national appearance, and fixed their head-quarters at Aversa, a town conferred on them by the Duke of Naples. Here they lived under the government of counts, or chieftains, of their own election ; and, joining their forces with those of the Greek emperor, did much to achieve the reconqnest of Sicily. Being uni:ratefully i'e()uited by the Grecian general, Maniaces, the Normarrj idok arms to pu lish the ingratitude of their allies. The 100 SUCCESSES OF THE cuts CARDS. Greeks assembled a large army, and, confident in their numbers, sent to the Normans to offer them eitlier battle or a safe retreat. " To battle !" exclaimed the Normans, while one of their knights struck down with a blow of his fist the horse of the Grecian messenger. The Greeks, notwithstanding their superiority in numbers, received a total defeat, and tiie Normans gained possession of a great part of their dominions in Apulia, a few strong places excepted. They now arrayed their forces under the command of twelve counts, the chief of whom took the title of Count of Apulia. The first who held this title of eminence, was a dis- tinguished warrior named William Braccio di Fer, which means Iron-arm, from his irresistible strength, which he displayed at the expense of both the Greeks and Sara- cens. But his renown was eclipsed by that of the cele- baied Robert Guiscard, a Norman, descended from a race of Vavasours, or petty nobles, who had originally their family seat at Hauteville in Normandy. Robert was the most distinguished among the family of Tancred de Haute- ville, although consisting of twelve sons, all of whom, as they became severally of age, forsook their father's cas- tle, and followed the steps of their elder brother, to seek glory or death in the wars of Italy. They were distin.- guished by their valour and skill in obscure warfare, until the convulsed state of the times permitted them to start forth as leaders and as heroes. Wherever any of these brethren appeared, it would seem that fortune attached herself to the standard under which they fought. The great odds of number^ never prevented their obtaining victory ; the utmost severity of suffering or distress never effected the slightest change in their unyielding perse- verance. The father of this heroic family raised him- self from the rank of count to that of duke, and, m fact, of sovereign prince of Apulia and Calabria. The valour of his brother, Roger, achieved the conquest of Sicily from the Saracens, and held the sovereignty WiJi the title of count. Robert Guiscard himself waged open war on A'exius Comnenus, the Grecian Emperor, and in SUCCESSES OF THE GUISCARD?. 101 the celebrated combat of Durazzo, gained a bloody and well-disputed victory, which shook the very foundations of the imperial throne, although then occupied by a sovereign of peculiar sagacity an,d courage. (A. D. J 085.) But four years afterwards, Guiscard, who had achieved so many wonders, died in his seventieth year, while still waging war against Alexius, and endeavour- ing, by improving his old and devising new resources, to make up the loss he had sustained, rather by the inclemency of the elements than by the sword of tho enemy. The male line of this daring adventurer became ex- tinct, but that of Roger Count of Sicily suivived, to represent the courage, the enterprise, and the ambition of the House of Guiscard. The exploits of the Normans in Italy, and in the East, abound with many interesting and highly chivalrous stories, which would attract your attention, and repay me for the trouble of compiling '.hem, but their connexion with the History of France is not so near as to permit them to enter into the present collection. As brilliant, and a much more durable effect, of the Norman valour was produced by the conquest >f Endand. 103 SAXON CONq,UEST OF ENGLAND. CHAPTER VIII. Saxon Conquest of England — Saxon Heptarchy — Court of Edward the Confessor — Dislike betxveen the English and JVormans — Death of Edward, and Jlccession of Harold — Preparations of William of JVo7'7nnndy for invading England — Invasion and Defeat of Harold of JVorivay — Battle of Hastings — Effects of the A^orman Conquest — Forest Laws — Couvrefeu — The Language changed by the intci mix- ture of JVorman-French — Introduction of Chivalry — Connexion with Continental Politics, which was the consequence of England falling into the hands of the Duke of J\'ormandy. The Norman Conquest — a great event, which con tinues its effects even to our own day — was for many centuries the abupdant source of wars as inveterate and bloody as the world ever saw. Like other revolutions of that destructive period, it had its remote origin in the feeble and decayed state in which the Romans left tlie island of Britain, or at least its southern af.d more fertile moiety, when they withdrew their experienced legions from the defence of the colonists, and, having first de- prived them of arms, and allowed their military habits to fall into disuse, left them, unaided, to protect themselves against the unconquered barbarians of the northern parts of the island, then termed Scots and Picts. Finding themselves exposed to the attacks of these fierce people, It is well known that the dispirited Britons snnmioned to iheir assistance tlie Saxons, a people inhabiting the north of Germany, and the southern shores of tiie Baltic. A nation thus imploring the defence of stranger tribes, ex- posed themselves of course to then* rapacity. The Saxons repelled indeed the irruptions of tlie northern baroarians but summoninij more of their bretlucn to SAXON CONQUEST OF ENGLISH. " H)3 share the conquest of a country which the natives cculd not defend, they gradually occupied the fertile lowlands of the island, wliicli became, 'rom them first distinguished by the name of England, (land of the Anglo-Saxons,"! and drove the natives, who continued their resistance, into the northern mountains of Westmoreland and Cumber- land, and the provinces now called Wales — in which last country the remains of the primitive Gael or Celtic inhab- itants of the island are still to be found. This Saxon conquest formed a nation not dissimilar in manners to thai of the Franks, as the victors in some degree incorporated with their own nation the conquered Britons and Roman colonists. The Anglo-Saxons, like the Franks, had no very dis- tinct notions of hereditary succession ; and, to add to this great inconvenience, the invaders had been drawn from separate tribes^ each of whom expected their portion of the spoil in settlements, and in the privilege of recog- nizing an independent king or chieftain of their own. Hence the impolitic division of England into seven petty kingdoms, called the Heptarchy, which existed, exclusive of the tract of country still possessed by the native British. A series of intrigues, and of bloody, though petty wars, was the natural consequence of the claims of the little tyrants of each state. During these con- tests, the country, as a whole, suffered much, though foj some time no one kinglet could obtain any decided ad- vantage. Such small kingdoms have, nevertheless, the same propensities to unite with each other, as may be observed ld consent to take an oath of fealty to him. Godfrey of Boulogne, and the other leaders of the cru- sade, consented at length to this unpleasant and jealous preliminary, reconciling themselves to a species of degra- dation, rather than multiply the difSculties of tlieir situa- tion, or make an attack upon a Christian emperor the first warlike action of the crusade. It was, however, with infinite difficulty that the numerous and haughty chiefs were induced to take the oath of fealty. Robert of Flanders positively refused to undergo the ceremonial, and could by no means be brought to submit. Many of the cliiefs ol the crusaders were only induced to take the vow to the emperor by the large gifts which he dealt among them, thus purchasing an ap- parent submission, to save appearances, and disguise the real debility of the empire. Nay, the manner in which the ceremonial was per- formed, showed the contempt which the crusaders enter- tained for the whole pageant. A French count, called Robert of Paris, appeared before the emperor to take the oath, with the others of his degree. He had no sooner performed the ceremony than he sat down on the same throne where the emperor reposed in state, exclaiming, — " What churl is this who sits, when so many noble knights are standing in his presence ?" It may be be- 128 CAPTURE OF NICE. lieved Uiat no officer of the emperor dared interfere, but Bald\^in, brother of Godfrey of Boulogne, took the count by the hand, and reproaching him for liis rudeness,' obhged him to rise from the place he had taken. The emperor, preserving liis composure, asked the name and quality of the warrior who had taken so great a liberty. " 1 can but tell you this," answered the Frank, " tliat in my country there is an ancient church, to which those desirous of proving their valour repair, fully armed for battle, and, having gone through their devotions, remain there, to abide the attack of any adventurous knight that may- appear to encounter them. At that church, 'where three ways meet, have I myself abode for a long space. But the man lives not in France who dared answer my chal- lenge." The emperor confined his answer to the prudent observation, that if the count desired combat, he came to the place where he was sure to get enough of it, and proceeded to instruct the knight, who probably cared but little for his advice, in the particular warfare of the Turks. This story is told by Anna Comnena, daughter of Alexius, who seems to have suffered severely when she saw the august imperial dignity of her father so rudely infringed upon. After much time wasted, and many promises made and broken on the part of the emperor, respecting supplies of provisions, wines, and other necessaries for the army, the first crusade, transported by the Greek shipping to the shores of Asia, began seriously to enter upon tbeir holy warfare. Nice, which was well garrisoned by the Turks, was taken after a siege, and surrendered to the emperor Alexius, to whom it was a valuable acquisition, Sbliraan, Sultan of the Turks, more offended than dis- mayed by the loss he had sustained, assembled a very numerous army, amounting to from 150,000 to 200,000 horsemen. These hung round the vanguard of the Chris- tian host, and exhausted them by constant, but desultory attacks. The scorching sun greatly annoyed the northern people, whose complete coats of mail rendered the heat more intolerable The unusual clans: and barbarous CAPTURE OF ANTIOCH. 129 sounds of the Turkish mi sical instruments disturbed the liorses of the Christians ; and in the first general battle between the crusaders and the infidels, the former ran a great risk of defeat. The desperate exertions of the leaders, at length brought the infidels from desultory skirmishes to close action, in which armour of proof, with superior size and strength of body, gave advantage to the Europeans. Bohemund, Count Hugo of France, and Robert of Normandy, did wonderful feats with their own hands. The latter slew three infidels of distinction, in the face of both armies. The Sultan Soliman fled from the battle, which was fought at Dorylaium, in Phrygia. The restoration of his territory, called Roum, to the Em- peror Alexius, as it formed a frontier country of import- ance, was the means of preserving the Greek empire for perhaps a hundred years longer than it was otherwise likely to have subsisted. But Alexius did not make a politic use of his advantages. Instead of assisting the. Christians with good faith and sincerity, he took a more indirect course ; he tried to pursue his own interest by holding the balance betwixt the crusaders and their ene- mies the Turks, in the vain hope that he could make success turn to the one scale or the other, at his pleasure. The siege of the celebrated city of Antioch, accom- panied with dearth of provisions, want of water, scorch- ing heat, and contagious diseases, tried the patience of the military pdgrims, and overcame that of many. But the crusaders were particularly scandalized at the dele- tion of Peter the Hermit, who fled from the camp rather than share the severities to which he had been the means of millions exposing themselves. The fugitive was brought back by force, the rather that the absence of this famous preacher and prophet was deemed an evil omen. Antioch was at lengtli betrayed into the hands of the crusadeis by a Christian witliin the city; but, enraged ?t the hardships they had sustained, and thirsting for blood, the besiegers spared, in their rage, neither Chris- tian nor pagan. A very large host, chiefly of Persians, under an Emir 948 i30 EMBA&ST FROM THE SARACENS. cilled Kerboga, in vain advanced to re-take the place, and avenge the slaughtered Moslemah. Their blockade, _ indeed, reduced the late besiegers to the state of TDeing themselves besieged. Disease followed faniinej men and horses died in multitudes. A well-imagined and happily- timed discovery of a supposed relic of great sanctit}', restored the enthusiasm which had sunk under bad for- tune and sufferings. The gates of Antioch were thrown open, the crusaders rushed out in full confidence of vic- tory ; and, being seconded by a fancied apparition of Saint George, Saint Theodore, and Saint Maurice, they totally dispersed the army of the besieging general, which }s described as almost innumerable. The stron"- and O wealthy city of Antioch was assigned as the seat of a principality, to be adjudged to Bohemund, for Alexius declined to accept what he was conscious he had no force to preserve. The route to Palestine now lay open to the crusaders — that country for which they had abandoned all their other prospects in life. Besides the necessity of collecting reinforcements, and the difficulty of coming to a determined conclusion, in cases where so many opinions were to be consulted, tiie city of Jerusalem, the possession of which was the prin- cipal object of the crusade, had of late changed masters, and returned from the possession of the Turks to that of the Saracens of Egypt, who were commanded by the Fatimite Califs. The Saracens, it must be remembered, had always afforded protection to the western pilgrims during the period when they held possession of the Holy City. It was, therefore, with some reason that they en- deavoured to persuade the crusaders to put an end to the war, as being now without a motive. The Egyptian ambassadors stated to the assembled chiefs, that Jerusa- lem which the Turks had made the scene of their op- pressions, was now restored to its lawful possessors, the Saracens, who had always given, and would engage always to give, hospitable reception, and fiee access to the objects of their devotion, to all peaceful pilgrims who should desire o approach th^m in modevate nunibers, auJ CAPTURfi OF JERUSALEM. 131 williout arniJ. Tlie calif also offered great and splendid gifts to the chiefs ol the crusade, to induce them to make peace. The Euroi)ean leaders returned for answer, that their vows engaged them to rescue the Holy Land, and its capital, the city of Jerusalem, from infidels, of what- ever denomination, whom they should find in possession ot it ; that they were determined to recover the city ac- cordingly, and would admit no treaty, whether with Turk or Saracen, or other Mahometan whatsoever, which had not the absolute surrender of Jerusalem for its basis. At length the remains of this mighty crusade advanced on Palestine, and besieged the holy city of Jerusalem, so long the object of their hopes, vows, and wishes. The place was naturally strong, and was defended by thick walls and bulwarks, as well as by rocks and eminences. The crusaders remaining fit for service, out of a host which numbered its warriors by hundreds of thousands, did not amount to forty thousand men. Aladin, lieutenant of the Egyptian calif, commanded nearly an equal number of defenders. The Christians had, therefore, a difficult task before them, especially as they were in want of water, tents, and military engines. They at first attempted to take the city by main force, and make a general assault on the walls within five days after they sat down before them ; but being unprepared for such service, thev were beaten off with loss and dishonour. The siege was, how- ever, pressed with vigour ; the chiefs endured their losses with firmness, and their experience discovered supplies for their wants. Two wooden turrets, constructed upon wheels, were formed by some Genoese workmen, to be advanced to the wall, for the purpose of commanding the defences. The first, under command of Raymond Count of Toulouse, was set on fire, and consumed by the be- sieged. The second of these engines, under the imme- diate superintendence of Godfrey of Boulogne, was, with better fortune, rolled up to the walls, wdiere, as it over- looked the parapet, the arrows from the archers wnhin it, cleared the rampart of the defenders. A drawbi'idge then dropt between the tower and the wall — the attackinj, 132 KINGDOM OF JERUSALEM. party poured over it, and the besiegers obtained possession of tlie city. An indiscriminate massacre commenced, in vvhicli many thousand AJahometans were slain,' although resistance was entirely at an end. When this pitiless slaughter (which lasted three days) was over, the victors, with a devotion strangely contrasted witli their late cruel- ly, joined in a solemn pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre, where loud hymns of praise, and devout tears of peni- tence, were enthusiastically poured forth as an accept- able offering to Heaven, by the very men whose hands were red with the blood spilt in an unprovoked massacre. The country of Palestine followed the fate of Jerusalem, and the Christian leaders resolved to consummate their victory by erecting a Latin kingdom there, whose swords should fur ever defend the Holy Land, which the valour of the crusaders had now gained from the infidels. The crown of Palestine was refused by Robert of Normandy and Robert of Flanders, who might both have made pre- tensions to the sovereignty ; the more ambitious Bohemund had already settled himself in Antioch,and Baldwin had, in like manner, established himself at Edessa. A hero who, if only the equal of these princes in valour, and their inferior in power, far excelled them in moral qualifica- tions, and in a true sense of religion, was next offered the crown, by the unanimous consent of all who had been engaged in the expedition. This was Godfrey of Bou- logne, the foremost in obtaining possession of the city, of which he was now declared king. He would, how- ever, only accept the title of Defender and Baron of the Holy Sepulchre, and, from the same spirit of devout modesty, he assumed a crown of thorns, instead ol gold, as the appropriate symbol of his authority. In about a fortnight the prince was called upon to de- fend his newly conquered metropolis against the Calif of Egypt, who was advancing in person to revenge its cap- ture. They met in the valley of Ascalon, where the Egy])tians (inferior to the Turks, whom the Christians bad hitherto encountered, in the knowledge and practice of war) received a tola defeat. Godfrey having thus KNIGHTS OF ST. JOHN. 133 established and enlarged his new kingdom, proceeded, by the general assent of tl)e most experienced persons who wore present, to adjust a system of laws, called the Assize of Jerusuleu), in which the constitution of the Latin king- dom, as it was called, was adapted to the purest feudal principles. In this manner was established, and thus was regulat- ed, the kingdom of Jerusalem, which endured for about a century after its establishment in the first crusade, till its destruction by Saladin in 1187. During the short period of its turbulent existence, this state, composed of so many proud and independent barons, who often refused obedience to the king of their own choice, underwent so many civil convulsions, as rendered their state peculiarly unfit to defend itself against the Mahometans, who were perpetually bent upon recovering a territory which they considered as their own property. Various attempts were, however, made to support the Christians in their defence. One was by the erection of two great societies, or com- munities of kniglits, wno took upon them a vow of celi- bacy, of poverty, and of obedience to their spiritual superiors, but were, in other respects, soldiers sworn to defend the Temple of Jerusalem against the Pagans. This order of military monks did great service in the protection of the Holy Land. But when these Templars, as they were called, became wealthy and powerful, it appears their manners became corrupted, and their morals dissolute ; they were also accused of meditating enter- piises promising advantage to their own order, but threat- ening danger to lawful Christian monarchs, and to Cliris- tianity in general ; so that, under allegations partly proved^ and partly alleged, the oi-der, or association of Templars, was suppressed, about the year 1312, two hundred years after it had been erected. The other association of t!ie same kind was called the Knights Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem, whose first vow was the providing hospitality for pilgrims, though, like the Templars, they 134 DEATH OF GODFREY. chiefly devoted themselves to military exploits against the infidels. They did not rise to the eminence oi" the Templars, nor share in the odium attached to them ; ac- cordingly you will see that the Knights of St. .)ohn_ under the title of the Knights of Malta, continued theii sworn war against the Mahometans till a late period.' But besides the support of these two warlike fraterni- ties formed for the preservation of the Holy Land, the same motives which had made the powers of Europe first engage in the original crusade, led to their forming simi- lar expeditions from time to time, to the number of five, by which great armies passed into Asia, with the purpose to delay the fldl of Palestine, or to recover it, when lost, to Ciiristendom. These must be mentioned, more or less distinctly, in the course of our story. In the meantime, we may conclude our history of the First Crusade, by mentioning the death of its hero, Godfrey of Boulogne, whose virtues and talents had succeeded in giving a tem- porary appearance of strength and consistency to the dominions conquered by his valour. This event took place within a year after the capture of the city. A.D. 1100. WILLIAM THE C0NQ,UER0r'3 SONS. I was easily found in the usual pretext of loo close alliance in blood between the wedded parties. A pedigree was drawn up to favour the plea, in conseijuence of which, a complaisant council of French bishops passed a sentence of divorce between Philip and Ingerberge, within three years after their separation. The king then proceeded to marry Agnes de Merania, daiighter of the Duke of Dalmatiit. (A. D. 1 172.) The King of Deninark remonstrated • at Rome, where ■ his comj)]aints found favourable hearing, ag;iinst the injury and insult offered to his unoffending daughter. The legate of the Pope, having taken cognizance of this im- j)ortant case, declared formally that the marriage with Ino-erberi'C remained bindinc;, and admonished the kin<; lo put away her rival, Agnes, as one with whom he could have no legal tie. As Pliilip remained obstinate and im- penitent, the F*ope proceeded to lay his kingdom ui;der an interdict, which, while it lasted, prohibited the per- formance of divine service of every kind, the administra- tion of the sacraments, the reading the services for the dead, or for marriage or baptism, occasioning thereby an inex})rcsslble confusion in the country where these divine rites were suspended, and all civil affairs, of course, inter- rupted. Philip, enraged at the perseverance of the Poj)e, revenged himself on the clergy. He seized on their temporal effects, imprisoned the canons of the cathedrals, and raised heavy taxes on all classes, by which he main- tained such large bodies of mercenary soldiers, as made resistance impossible on the jiart of his vassals. At length, finding it difficult to reniain in Uiis state of vio- lence, Philip made a compromise with the Pope, agree- INTERDICT WITHDRAWN. 195 ing tliat he would l)ecoine amenable to the obedleiice of the church, providing his hoHness would condescend once more to examine tlie question of the divorce and mar- riage. A council was accordingly held at Soissons, foi the re-examination of an affair that was extremely sim- ple. Fifteen days were spent by churchmen and canon- ists in these subtle questions, which rather perplex than enlighten justice, when, suddenl} , a young and unknown speaker took the side of the divorced queen, with such persuasive force of truth, that the churchmen conceived they heard themselves addressed by the voice of an angel. ' The king himself perceived his cause was inde- fensible, and resolved to take back the Danish princess, as if of his own accord, ere yet he should be compelled to do so by the order of the council. He therefore told the legate abruptly that he would settle the affair with his wives in his own v/ay. He did so accordingly, with very little ceremony, instantly riding to the convent where the discarded Ingerberge resided, taking her up behind him on the same steed, and proceeding with her in that manner to Paris, where he publicly acknowledged her for his lawful wife. Ingerberge, with the same patient obedience which distinguished her while in the cloister, returned to the world, and lived and died blameless, if not beloved. The fate of Agnes de Merania was more melancholy ; she died of a broken heart at feeling her self reduced -from the rank of a royal matron to that of a concubine. By an arrangement go simply produced, Philip gained the advantage of being restored from the condition of an interdicted and excommunicated prince, to that of a true and lawful sovereign, who might justly receive the com- plaints of the church, as well as of inferior persons, against his vassal John, for certain enormities which were not very distant in character from those for which Pliilip himself had been so lately laid under an interdict. John, whose only use of power was to forward his own pleasures, had, during a progress in Guiennej become captivated with the charms of Isabel, the beautiful daugh 196 INSURRECTION ter of the Eiirl of Angouleme. This young beauty was betrothed to Hugh le Brun, Earl de la Marche, -and nad been delivered up to her betrothed husband. But John, who was totally unaccustop.ied to bridle his passions, was induced to banish a wife with whom he had enjoyed ten years of undisturbed union, and, by tempting the annbi- tion of Aymar, Count of Angouleme, easily bribed him to ffccept a king for a son-in-law, instead of a simple count. (A. D. 1200.) This rash and hasty action in- curred much censure. The Earl de la Marche, thus deprived of his intended and betrothed bride, and bent on revenge for so gross an injury, broke out, with his brother the Earl of Eu, and other confederates in Gui- enne, into open rebellion. John, alarmed for the conse- quences, for he was well aware of his own unpopularity — summoned together his English vassais, in order to put an end to the insurrection ere it spread wider. But al- though the English barons had seldom hesitated to follow their kings to France, as a country where they were wont to acquire wealth and warlike fame, it was no part of their feudal obligation to serve the king beyond the liniits of Britain, unless with their own free consent. On this oc- casion, disliking the cause or the prince, the great Eng- lish barons obeyed John's summons but slowly. John was attended, therefore, by too small an array to secure the implicit submission of his refractory nobles ; and while he carried on a languid war against the disaffected, the insurrection gained new and formidable supporters. Arthur, son of Geoffrey, and nephew of John, began now to complain, that out of his uncle Richard's suc- cession, he had been only suffered to retain the dukedom of Bretagne ; which was the more unjust, as Richard, when he went to the Holy Land, had designed Geoffrey his father, in whose right Arthur stood, as heir of all hi? French dominions. Incensed at this grievance, the young duke, who was scarcely sixteen years of age, entertained a secret correspondence with the discontented lords of Guienne ; and the whole conspiracy became manifest, when Philip, claiirring as liege lord, the right of deciding IN GUIENNE. 19T between John and liis dissatisfied vassals, declared him self the protector of the insurgents of Guienne, anil the assertor of the claims of Arthur. Both nations took arms, and on each side an ambitious and violent-tempered woman urged the quarrel to extremity. Constance, the mother of Arthur, and widow of his deceased father Geoffrey, incited her son to war against his uncle John by every argument in her power ; and, on the other hand, the dowager Queen Eleanor, that celebrated heiress, who transferred Aquitaine from Louis le Jeune to Henry II., was still alive, and violent in behalf of King John, whom she loved better than her other sons, because he resem- bled her more in disposition than any of his brothers. These two' haughty and high-tempered ladies had per- sonal animosities against each other, and inflamed the war by female taunts and female resentments. . Our great dramatic poet Shakspeare has made their wrangling im- mortal, by intermixing it with the plot of his celebrated play of King John. In the year (A. D. 1202,) hostilities commenced. Young Arthur took the field in the west of France with two liundred knights, and gained some successes, but ex- perienced on the following occasion, so far as the young prince was concerned, a woful and irrecoverable reverse. Having, on his march through Poitou, received informa-. tion that the dowager Queen Eleanor, his own and his mother's personal enemy, was residing in the adjacent castle of Mirabel, Arthur flew to invest it, and make sure of her as a' prisoner. The defence was vigorous, but at length the besiegers possessed themselves of the base court, and were well-nigh carrying the great tower, o( keep, of- the castle. The arrival of King John changed the scene ; he was at no great distance with an army more numerous than that of his nephew, consisting chiefly of mercenaries, Arthur, with his little band, marched to meet their unexpected foe, but was completely routed, and driven back to the castle of Mirabel, where the)/ were all either slain o^ made prisoners. Arthuv himself 198 CnUELTY or JOHN. the Comte de la Marche, and two hundred knights, wera among the latter; and if John could have used a decisive victory with humanity and moderation, he might have preserved his French dominions, and averted a long and almost uninterrupted chain of well-deserved misfortunes. But neither humanity nor moderation were a part of his character ; and it may be remarked, that there is no surer road to adversity than misused prosperity. The fate of the prisoners taken in this skirmish of Mi- rabel, was atrociously cruel. That of Arthur was never exactly known ; but all authors agree that he was mur- dered at Rouen, by his jealous uncle John — some allege, in his presence, and others affirm with his own hand. Of the young prince's allies and friends, twe'nty-five of tb'^ noblest and bravest were starved to death in Corfe Castle. The minds of all men revolted against the author of this disgraceful abuse of victory. The barons of Bre- tagne accused John at the footstool of Philip, their liege lord, of the crime of murdering their duke, and his own nephew, in the person of the unhappy Arthur. As the King of England did not appear to answer to their charge, he was pronounced guilty of felony and treason, and all his dominions in Normandy were declared forfeited to his liege lord the king of France. Thus was the crisis ar- rived wiiich Philip had long waited for. Over the ex- tensive territories held for so many years by wise, warlike, and powerful princes, there was now placed a person, who, by tyranny and inhumanity, was sure to incur a just doom of forfeitiu'e, and, by cowardice and indolence, was incapable of saving himself from the consequeiices, Dy a resolute defence. Accordingly, when Philip, at the head of his army, began to enforce the doom of forfeiture, or. in plain language, to conquer Normandy for his own, it was astonishing how rapidly the structure of feudal power, which had been raised by the sagacity of William the Conqueror, and his son and great-grandson, the first and second Henrys, and latterly defended by the iron arm of Richard Coeur de Lion, dissolved, when under CONqUEST OF >ORMANiy BY PHILIP. 199 the sway of the selfish, indolent, and irresolute John Joined by the numerous barons who were disaftected tc King John, Philip marched through Normandy, reducing the strongholds at pleasure, and subjecting the country to his allegiance. John never even attempted to meet ins enemies in the field, but remained in daily riot and revelry at Rouen, struck, as it were, with a judicial in- fatuation, which so much affected his courage and activity, that, about the 3nd of the year, finding the storm of war approach so near as to disturb his slumbers, he fairly fled to England, and left the dukedom of Normandy to its fate. This. was not long protracted; for, without much exertion, and with the good-will of the countries, whose inhabitants had not "forgotten that they were by nature part of the kingdom of France, Normandy, with Anjou, Poitou, and Maine, excepting a few places which remained faith- ful to the English king, became again annexed to the crown of France. Rouen itself, the capital of Nor- mandy, being abandoned to its own resources, was forced to surrender, and once more became the property of the French kings, three hundred years after it had been con- quered by Rolio, the Norman. The infatuated John threw the blame of losing so many fair possessions upon the desertion of tlie English barons. ' who would not follow him to France for the purpose of defending his Norman dominions. He more than once summoned his vassals, as if with the fixed purpose of in- vading the territories he had lost ; but the expedition was always deferred, under pretence that the musters were not complete, until it became the conviction of every one, that the armaments were only intended to afford a pretext for levying fines on the vassals who neglected the royal summons. A single feeble attempt to cross the seas with an army, only served to show the imbecility of the Eng';3h leader ; and retiring before Philip, and avoid- ing the combat which he offered, the degenerate John did but prove his personal cowardice, and ignorance as a commander. Thus, almost without opposition, did Philip uniJe, under the Fre.nch empire, those provinces so Ions 200 Philip's designs upon England. separated from the kingdom to which they belonged as a natural part. The event was the most useful, as Avell a>' most brihiant, of his reign, and must be reckoned die principal cause for bestowing upon Philip the flatterinff name of Augustus. The extreme indolence and imbecility of John en- couraged the King of France, who, through all his reign, evinced a high cast of ambition and policy, to extend his views even beyond the limits of the French dominions of the English prince ; and pushing his opportunity against one so inacti-ve and impolitic, he resolved to at- tempt achieving a second conquest of England, while its crown was placed on so unworthy a head. The success of William the Conqueror, under circumstances much less favourable, was doubtless called to mind, as an en- couraging example. Some apology, or show of justice, was indeed wanting for such an invasion ; for England was no dependency of France, like Normandy or Anjou, nor had King Philip a eight to declare that realm forfeited as a fief of his crown, whatever may have been the de- linquencies of its tyrannical sovereign. But it was John's ill-luck, or misconduct, so to manage his affairs, as to afford, not Philip alone, but any Christian prince in Eu- • rope, as full right to make war upon and dispossess him of his English dominions, as the church of Rpn)e, which then claimed the right of placing and dethroning mon- archs, was competent to confer. The rash monarch of England laid himself open to this, by a dispute with the Pope, at any time a formidable opponent, but an irre- sistible one to a sovereign so universally detested as John. This dispute, so remarkable in its consequences, arose thus : In 1205, (A. D.) the right of electing an Archbishop of Canterbury was disputed between the monks of the cathedral, who made choice of their own sub-prior, Reginald, and the King of England, with the prelates of the province, who made choice of the Bishop of Nor- wich. Both sides appealed to the Pope, who immedi- ately began to *ake the dispute under his own manage- EXCOMMUNICATION OF JOHN. 201 ment, with the purpose of so conducting tne contest, as to augment the unhmited power which he claimed to ex- ercise over Christendom. The Pontiff decided, in the first place, that the right of electing the archbishop lay exclusively in the monks. He next declared botii elec- tions to be vacant, and proceeding lo fill the important situation with a creature of his own, commanded the monks of Canterbury, who had come to Rome to solicit the disputed election, to make a new choice for the office, indicating Stephen Langton as the candidate whom they were to prefer. The monks pleaded the irregularity of such an election, and alleged vows which rendered it un- lawful for them to hold such a course. The Pope an- swered their objections by his plenary power. He dispensed with the irregularity by his papal authority, annulled the obligations of the oaths of the monks, and compelled them, under penalty of the highest censure of the church, to proceed as he enjoined them. John, with a spirit which he only showed when resistance was re- mote, remonstrated with Pope Innocent on such an irregu- lar attempt to fix a primate on England. The Pope replied with equal warmth, calling on the king to submit lo his authority, before whom every knee must bow. Finally, as King John continued refractory, the Pontiff proceeded to lay all. his dominions under an interdict, of which the nature has been already explained to you. John endeavoured to avenge himself upon such of the clergy as were within his reach ; but although imprisoned, fined, and even personally punished, the zeal of the churchmen for the cause of the Pope, made them dare the fate of martyrs or of confessors. In 1209, (A. D.) when the interdict had continued two years, the Pope proceeded to pronounce sentence of excommunication against John personally, by which he was, so far as the curses of Rome could have effect, thrown out of the pale of the Christian church, his sub- jects released from their allegiance to him, and his king- dom delivered up to any one who should carry the doom of the Pontiff into execution. More especially, Kmo 9* 202 John's submission to the pope. Philip of France bad the express charge of executinc tl'.e sentence. of deposition against his neighbour of Eng- land, and in reward of his expected exertions, was de- ;;iared king of that country in his stead. Thus placed in the very position which he so earnestly desired to assume, by taking on himself the office of the Pope's champion, the politic Philip sacrificed to his am- bitious views upon England the common interest of princes, and assented to the dangerous doctrine, that the crowns of reigning sovereigns were held at the pleasure of the Roman pontiff. He assembled a large army near Boulogne, where he had provided no less than seventeen hundred vessels to transport tiiem to England. But al- though dislike to the tyranny of John rendered many of his barons indifferent to his fate, and although the minds of others were affected with superstitious dread of the Pope's aiiathema, there were yet many Englishmen resolved to withstand the French invasion. The alarm that the king- dom was in danger from foreigners, drew together an im- mense array, from which it was easy for King John to select sixty thousand well-armed and well-appointed troops, to oppose the French king. Such were the preparations made to defend England from invasion, when John, by a secret treaty with Pan- dulph, the legate of the Pope, endeavoured to avert the danger of the struggle. In this he succeeded — but it was only by an act of submission, the most ignominious of which the world had yet seen an .example. By this agreement, the King of England made the most unre- served submission to the Pope concerning Stephen Lang- ton's reception as Archbishop of Canterbury, which was the original dispute, professed penitence for his former refractory conduct, and, in evidence of his sincerity, re- signed into the hands of the legate, as representing his holiness, his kingdoms of England and Ireland, engaging to hold them thereafter in the name of vassal to the Pope, for the tribute of one thousand merks yearly. The Pope was highly gratified with an accommoda- tion v'hich had taken a turn so favourable tc he extensioc CONFEDERACY AGAINST PHILIP. 203 of tlie influence, as well as tlie wealth of the church, and he issued his mandates in a tone o'" uncommon arro- gance, commanding Piiilip to forbear any enterprise against John of England, who now hail, though formerly a refractory son of the church, reconciled himself with the Pope, was become the vassal of the Holy See, a sub- missive, amiable, and benign prince, peculiarly entitled to the Pontiff's protection against all injuries. Philip re- monstrated at the attempt to render him thus the passive tool of Rome, obliged as such to assume and lay aside his arms at her bidding. He thought it best, however, to comply, as he learned that his increasing power, aug- mented as it was with the spoils of John's F'rench terri- tories, was on the eve of exciting a confederacy against him among the crown vassals of France. For this reason, he turned the army designed for the invasion of England against Ferrand, Earl of F'lauders, whose acces- sion to such a league he had reason to apprehend. The great army of France, with the king at its liead, advanced into Flanders accordingly, taking some of the Earl's towns, and menacing the sul^jugation of his earl-- dorn. King John, on the entreaty of Earl Ferrand, sent to his assistance a great fleet, which he had got in readi- ness while the alarm of the French invasion of England impended, under the command of a natural son of Rich- ard Coeur de Lion, called Longsword, Earl of Salisbury. The English had already acquired that superiority at sea, which has been long one of their marked national char- acteristics. They defeated the French navy, though more numerous than their own, destroying one hundred vessels, taking one hundi'ed more, and dispersing the rest of the fleet. Phili]), who wntli his nobles had lost much valuable property on this occasion, was so much discour- aged by an unexpected blow from a quarter which he had bieen liille accustomed to fear, that lie desisted from liis attempts against Ferrand, and retired into his own ilon)inions. The alarm which was excited by King Philip's increas- ing pow'er and extensive ambition, was far from subsiding 204 CONFEDERACY AGAINST PHILIP. on his retreat. On the contrary, the vassals of the crowit ol" France, who had heen engaged with other conLinental princes in a confederacy against the crown, were hent upon takinfi advanta'^e of the i{Ieam of success occasioned by the d)Scon)fiture, and to estahhsh, in the moment of victory, some counterbalance against the predominant au- thority of Philip. The confederacy assumed a consist- ent and alarming appearance, and well deserved the King of France's peculiar attention, as it was like to require the whole strength of his kingdom to resist the combined assault of so many enemies. The Emperor Olho lent his active co-operation to the confederates the more readily, as being the nephew, by the mother's side, of King John, whose French dominions Philip had confis- cated with so little ceremony or scruple. The Earls of Flanders, Boulogne, Toulouse, and Auvergne, also joined the enemies of Philip, and visited England in 1214, to arrange the plan of the ensuing campaign. It was agreed on this occasion, that France should be invaded on two sides, so as to find full employment for the forces and skill of her monarch. It was farther de- termined, that the main attempt should be made by the Emperor Otho and the warlike Earls of Boulogne and Flanders, aided by an auxiliary body of English troops, under command of the celebrated Longsvvord, Earl of Salisbury. They were destined to attack the eastern frontiers of France, with a powerful army. John hin)- self, according to the same plan, was to cross the sea to • Rochelle, where he was sure to be joined by several friends of the English interest, as well as by the Eails of Auvergne and Toulouse. Such were the prepara- tions ; the object proposed was the dismemberment of the French territories, which were to be divided among Uie princes of this confederacy. The allies, in accord- ance with the superstition of the times, consulted sooth- sayers on the issue of the war, and received for answer, "that the King of France should be overthrown, and trampled on by the horses' feet, and should not receive funeral rites ; ard that Count Ferrand of Flanders should ARMY OF PHILIP. 205 enter Paris in great pomp after the engagement." The allies received as pro])itioas, an oracle which afterwards turned out to be of a different and ambiguous character : they accordingly advanced at the head of a numerous ■ army, amounting, it is said, to one hundred and fifty thousand men. They assembled at Peronne, in Flan- ders, and moved south-westwards into France. The army of Philip was not nearly so numerous, but was composed of the flower of the French chivalry, with the great princes of the blood royal, and such of the vas- sals of the crown as were not in the confederacy. The monarch also enjoyed the advantage of the bravery and experience of a valiant knight hospitaller, called Guerin, who acted as quarter-raaster-general. Philip, having de- termined to prevent the wasting of his own country by ravaging that of the enemy, directed his course towards Hainault with that purpose. But in the course ©f their march, the French discovered the numerous squadrons of the emperor, on the opposite side of the JMeuse, near Bou vines. The river was crossed by a wooden bridge. Tlie French 'noblesse on the one side, and the German on the other, rushed emulonsly to seize the passage. But it was occupied by the former ; and the French infantry, principally the nnlltia of the towns, passed over under the Oriflamme, or banner of St. Dennis, and formed on the western side of the river. The king had stretched himself to repose under an ash-tree, when he was roused by the horsemen who came to apprize him that the battle had commenced. Philip arose with a cheerful counte- nance, and, stepping into a church which was near, paid the brief devotions of a soldier. He then advanced to the front of his troops, and recollecting that there were many vassals in his own army who were likely to be se- cretly affected by the reports generally, and not unjustly, spread abroad concerning his own interested and ambitious disposition, he caused his crown to be placed on a port- able altar, arranged in front of his line of battle. " INIy fiiends," he said, " it is for the crown of France you 206 BATTLE OF BOUVlNEd. fight, and not for liim who lias of late worn it. If you ran rescue it from these men, vvlio are combined, to de- grade and destroy it, the soldier who shall bear him best .in its defence, is, for my part, welcome to wear it as hi? own." This well-conceived speech was answered with shouts of " Long live King Philip ! the crown can befit no brow so well as his own." The French army continued to defile across the bridge to support their van, which had already passed over. The army of the allies con- tinued to manoeuvre and extend their wings, for the pur- pose of surrounding Philip's inferior numbers. But by this manoeuvre they lost the opportunity of charging the French troops, when only a part of their army had passed over, and in taking up their new ground, they exposed their faces to the sun, — a great disadvantage, which they felt severely during the whole action. The battle began with incredible fury, and proved one of the most obstinate, as it was certainly one of the most important, actions of those warlike times. The command of the right wing of the allies was in- trusted to the Earl of Flanders, the left to the Count of Boulogne, the Emperor having his own place in the cen- tre, under a banner displayed on a species of carriage, on which ensign was represented the imperial eagle holding a dragon in his talons. On the side of France, the king himself, surrounded by the princes of the blood, heading the bravest' of the young knights and nobles, and at- tended by the most distinguished of the prelates and clergy, commanded ihe centre. The Duke of Burgundy commanded the right wing, the Comte de St. Paul the left, and Guerin, the experienced knight hospitaller, ar- rayed the army, being, although a bishop elect, the most ekilful leader in the field. The Comte de St. Paul, who had been unjustly suspected of intercourse with the ene- my, said to Guerin, when the battle conniienced, " Now, )'0u shall see what manner of ti'aitor 1 am !" Al the onset, the allies had some advantage ; for a body of French light-horse, which commenced the attack, BATTLE OF BOUVINES. "201 were unable to withstand the \veic!;ht and strength of the huoe rnen and horses of the Flemish and German cavah-y, to whom they were ojiposed. One wing of the P^rencii army was disarranged in consequence of this check, as well as by the impetuosity of an attack commanded by Ferrand, Earl of Flanders, who was one of the best* war- riors on ttie side of the allies. The emperor assailed, with incredible fury and superior forces, the centre, in which Philip and his nobles were stationed. Philip made good the promise which he had given to his soldiers, and fought as desperately as any man in the field. He was at length borne out of his saddle, and wounded in the throat. Gulon de Montigni in vain waved the royal banner, to intimate the disaster that had taken place, and Philip's wars would have ended on the spot, but for the devoted loyalty of some knights, who threw themselves betwixt him and the prevailing Germans. But, almost at the same moment, the Earl of Flanders, who had been at first victorious, was, after great resistance, made prisoner, and his Flemish forces defeated, giving an opportunity for a large body of French cavalry to press closely to the centre, where their assistance was so much required. A band of the nobles who thus came to l^!iili[)'s rescue, determined to attack the person of the Emperor, disre- garding meaner objects. They broke through his guard, overturned the chariot which bore his baimer. and seized it. They then rushed on Otho's person. Peter de Mau- voisin seized his bridle, William des Barres -grasped him round the body, and strove to pull him from his horse, Gerard de Trie attempted to strike him through with his sword, and the good corslet protecting the Emperor from the blow, the Frenchman again struck with the edge of the sword, and killed Otho's horse. Yet a furious charge of some German men-at-arms relieved their emperor, who was remounted on a swift horse, and left the conllicl in despair. '• Let him go," said King Philip, who wit- nessed his enemy's flight, " you will see no more of limi to-day than his back !" While the Earl of Flanders and the Emperor wew 20S BATTLE OF BOUVlNES. thus defeated, the Comte de Boulogne dispkyed the greatest courage, by the mode in which he supported Lis division of the allies. He had established a strong reserve of foot in a triangular form, behind which, as covered by a forlj-ess, he drew up his men-at-arms, and whence he sallied repeatedly with inexpressible fury. At length, he was pursued into this retreat by the French men-at-arms, who skirmished with him for some time, unable to bea* down or despatch him, as horse and man vi^ere covered with impenetrable armour, like the invulnerable cham- pions of romance. At last, Pierre des Tourelles, a knight who chanced himself to be dismounted, raise'd the armour which covered the Earl's horse with his hand, and stab- bed the good charger. The Earl of Boulogne thus dis- mounted, was added to the captives, who amounted to five Earls of the highest name and power, twenty-five seigneurs, or nobles, bearing banners, and nearly as many men of inferior rank as there were soldiers in the con- quering army. Philip, considering his disparity of num- bers, and satisfied with so complete a victory, would not . permit his troops to follow the enemy far. Such was the celebrated battle of Bouvines, on the details of which the French historians dwell with national pride. It lasted from noon till five in the evening. (A. D. 1214.) The scruples of two ecclesiastics, which prohibited them from shedding blood, were on this occa- sion differently expressed, or rather evaded. Guerin the hospitaller, who was also bishop elect of Senlis, lent Philip the assistance of his military experience in draw- ing up his army, but would not engage personally in the action. Another prelate, Philip, Bishop of Beauvais, thought he sufficiently eluded the canon which prohibit- ed churchmen from shedding blood, by fighting like the chaplain of the Cid, who used an iron mace instead of a sword. With this, the scrupulous prelate had the honour to strike down and make prisoner the celebrated Long- sword, Earl of Salisbury, who commanded such English troops as were in the battle. After the victory, Philip caused the principal captives DEATH OF TlIK COUNT OF BOULOGNE. 209 to be conducted through Paris in a sort of triumph, and w tills procession Renaud, Count of Boulogne, and Ferrand. Cour.t of Flanders, were distinguished from the rest by being loaded with irons. The former being brought be- fore Philip, the king upbraided him with his excommu- nication, (forgetting how lately he himself had been under the censure of the church, for the affair of his divorce.) He also charged him with personal ingratitude, and con- cluded by sending the captive earl to the castle of Pe- ronne, where he was lodged in a dungeon, and his motions limited by a heavy chain, attached to a block of iron, so weighty that two men could not lift it. Here the unfor- tunate earl remained a close captive, until he heard that his ally Ferrand, Earl of Flanders, had been restored to freedom, (though under severe conditions,) at the suppli- cation of his wife. On finding that similar clemency was not extended to hiu), the Count of Boulogne became desperate, and ended his miserable misfortunes by depriv- ing himself of existence. The second part of the plan of the allies, which was to have depended on the exertions of King John of England, proved as inefficient as all others which had been calculated upon the fortune and conduct of that unlucky prince. John, no doubt, carried over an Eng- lish army to Rochelle, and received the homage of many barons of Poitou and Normandy, who had acceded to the league against Philip. He took Angers, the capital of Anjou, his family fief, but, except wasting and spoil- ing the country, he did nothing farther on his side which could materially favour the great attempt of the confed- erates. Philip having gained the battle of Bouvines, which might be said to secure the fate of the crown of France, by placing in his power the heads of so formidable a con- spiracy, marched instantly into Poitou against John, yet showed no inclination to carry the war to extremity at present ; but, on receiving a present of sixty thousand pounds sterling, he granted the King of England a truce 953 210 TRUCE GRANTED TO JOHN. for the space of five years. For this moderaticn, Philip has been censured by French writers, who are of oj)in ion he sliould have continued the war, until he had sub- dued Rochelle and the lew scattered French towns and forts wliich still acknowledged the dominion of England. But Philip, who was a prince of far-sighted j)o!itical views, was aware that, in the battle of Bou vines, he had been obhged to rely tgo implicitly upon the assistance of his feudal vassals, and might think it imprudent to make I hem, at this moment, moKe sensible of their own impor- tance, by prosecuting new wars against John, in which their assistance would have been indispensable. A large surn of money being immediately received, lie may be supposed to have calculated to have a sufficient number of mercenary forces, by help of which, at some conven- ient period, the wreck of John's French dominions might be gained, without the assistance of his feudal militia, and of troops which never could be properly said to be under his own personal command. During this time, a remarkable series of transactions took place in France, the review of which 1 have reserved to this place, that I might not confuse them in yourmem- oiy with those which I have been thus recounting. The Popes, bent at once on increasing their finances and extending their power, had found the utmost ad van tage in the practice of preaching the crusade, as the in dispensable duty of all Christians, while, at the- same time, they fouud it very convenient to accept of large sums of money from such princes, nobles, and individuals, as found it more convenient to purchase the privilege of remaming to look after their own affairs, than to assume tjje cross for distant enterprises. These holy expeditions were originally confined to the recovery of Palestine. But, since their effects were found in every respect so profitable to the church, it occurred to the Popes that there might be great policy in extending the principles of the holy crusade not only to the extirpation of infi- delify and heathenism, in foreign parts, but to that of ueresy at home. Accordingly^ as head of the Christiaa CRUSADE AGAINST HERETICS. 211 church, the PontifTs assumed the privilege of cominaiid- ing all Christian people, under the threat of s])iritual censures against tliose that should disobey, and with a corresponding remuneration to such as rendered spijitual obedience, to I'ise up in arms, and do execution on such people, or sects, as it had been the |)leasure of the church to lay under the ban of excommunication for heretical opinions. It was in the exercise of a privilege so frightful, by which the Popes raised armies wherever they pleased, and employed them as tliey chose, that tlie south-west of France was subjected to a horrible war. A numei'ous party of dissenters from tlie faith of Rome, men |)rofess- ing, in most respects, those doctrines which are now avowed by the Protestant churches, had gradually ex- tended itself through the south of France, and were par- ticularly numerous in the dominions of Raymond, Earl of Toulouse. The ecclesiastical writers of the period accuse these unfortunate sectaries of ])rofessing abomina- ble and infamous license, wliich they are alleged to have practised even in their public worsliip ; but there is little reason to doubt that this was mere calumny, and that the Albigeois, or Albigenses, as they were termed, were a set of obscure but sensible men, whose minds could not be reconciled to the extravagant tenets of the Roman Church. Tliey did not exactly agree in doctrine amongst themselves, and probably numbered among them the obscure descendants of the Paulicians, and other ancient Gothic churches, who had never embraced the faith of Rome, or yielded to its extravagant pretensions of tem- poral authority. Raymond, Count of Toulouse, within whose dominions these poor dissenters found refuge, was a prince of a comprehensive understanding, and, tliough himself professing no peculiarity of faith, was, neverthe- less, willing to grant liberty of conscience to all who lived under his sway, and was well aware what temporal ad- vantages might be derived from a government so profess- ing complete toleration. Against these unfortunate Albigenses, and their protec- 212 CRUSADE AGAINST THE ALBIGENSES tor Raymond, Pope Innocent III., at the insligation of Saint Dominic, and other furious inquisitors of the- monas- tic orders, proclaimed a crusade, enjoining those persons who should embrace so pious a labour, to convert by the sword, those who should fail to lend an ear to the preach- ing of the monks. A numerous host, great part of whicli was levied among the military adventurers and hired mer- cenaries of the age, and whose character for license and cruelty was scarcely to be matched, was assembled, under tlie name of the Army of the Church. They were placed under the command of Simon de Montfort, a brave but cruel leader, and a bigot to the faith of Rome. Under his command these crusaders indulged an in- discriminate thirst for slaughter and plunder amid the peaceful Albigenses, without accurately distinguishing the heretic from the orthodox, under the pretext that they were extirpating evil and erroneoi s opinions, and thereby rendering acceptable service to God and the Christian Church. Philip of France gave w'ay to proceedings which lie dared not oppose. He did not himself embrace the cru- sade against the Albigenses ; but his son. Prince Louis, came under llie obligation, without his father's knowledge and against his inclination. Count Raymond defended himself till after the battle of Bou vines, by which time Simon de Montfort, with his crusaders, had attained such a superiority over the Albigenses, that he rather regarded the engagement of Louis in the crusade as matter of jealousy, than as affording a prospect of support and assistance. In such circumstances. Prince Louis was naturally called upon to rejoice, when he was summoned by his father to exchange the fruitless and oppressive persficu- tion against these poor sectaries, for a more honourable warlare, which had for its object the conquest of Eng- land, and the utter destruction of King John's power As King John's misconduct and -losses became more and more conspicuous abroad, his tyranny uicreased at home J and as his prerogative grew in fact weaker, he MAGNA CHARTA SIGNED BY JOHN. ^13 enraged his subjects by attempting to extend Its limits in the most obnoxious instances. He caused the forest laws, always vexatious, to be executed with more tlian usual severity, casting down the enclosures of the royal forests, so that the wild deer, and other animals of the chase, might have uncontrolled access to the crops of the hus- bandmen. The barons were equally discontented with" the people by his violent and oppressive exactions and claims, and took the field against him in such force, as obliged King John to submit to their just demands ; on which occasion, he subscribed, at Runnamede, the cele- brated grant of privileges, called Magna Charta, which the English still account the t)ulwark of their liberties. \.s these privileges, however just and equitable in them- selves, were extorted most unwillingly from the monarch, the perfidious king took the first opportunity to endeavour to recall them. He appealed for this purpose to the Pope, whom he had created his lord paramount ; and the Pontiff, who received his claim of protection most favourably, expressed himself as highly offended at some of the articles of the Great Charter, and swore he would not suffer a sovereign, who was now an obedient vassal of the church, to be dictated to by his subjects in such a manner. He, therefore, annulled the grant of the Great Charter, as extorted by force, and not long after fulmi- nated excommunications against the allied barons, and all who favoured them. John received still more pow'erful assistance from a large army of mercenary soldiers, whom he landed at Dover, and with whom he took Rochester. By this re-enforcement, the king obtained a formidable advantage over the barons who could not always keep their feudal followers under arms, since they had their land to cultivate and their crops to gather in, whereas the mei'cenaries could be kept prepared for war at all times, and ready to be in the field at a minute's warning. The barons in this emergency adopted, the desperate alternative of throwing themselves into the hands of the King of France, rather than submit to the tyrant John Two of their number were despatched to the court o' 214 INVASION OF ENGLAND BY LOUIS. King Philip, offering to transfer their own allegiance, and the kingdom of England, to his eldest son Louis, on con. dition of his bringing an army to their assistance. The pretence of this interference on the part of France might be, that when the crown vassals were oppressed by their immediate lord, their lord paramount had a right to interfere for their redress. Even that excuse would not have justified in feudal law the substitution of the son in the fief, which, if forfeited at all, was an escheat to the lather. But the case of the barons was desperate, and, conscious of John's revengeful temper, they sought for aid in the only man- ner in which they saw a chance of obtaining it. Accord- ingly, the tempting offer of a crown prevailed on Philip and his son, the former in secret, and the latter openly, to accept eagerly the proposal of the barons, jmd to send an army of seven thousand men to re-enforce the insurgent party in England, while Louis himself prepared a stronger expedition. On the 23d of May, Louis arrived before Sandwich, with a gallant navy of six hundred sail, disembarked a corresponding number of land forces, marched towards London, and, having taken Rochester in his route, was welcomed with acclamations by the citizens. (A. D. 1216.) Here he received the homage of the barons who had invited him to tlieir aid. Hitherto every thing had been in favour of the young Prince of France, and the affairs of John went to ruin on all sides. The legate of the Pope strove in vain to defend him by the fulminations of the church. These were addressed both against Philip and his son Louis ; but as the former monarch disavowed in public the pro- ceedings of his son, the effectual excommunication fell only upon Louis himself, who, receiving from his father by underhand means the encouragement and the supplies whi/^.h were openly refused to him, and being, moreover, at tne head of a military force, set at defiance the conse- quences of the spiritual censures. Indeed, it may be observed, that, even during this period, (although that ir SIEGE OF DOVER CASTLE. 215 wblrh the Romish church had the greatest influence on the world at large,) the Pope's excommunication was efFeclual, or otherwise, according to the opinion enter- tained by the nation in general, of the justice of the sen- tence. Thus we have seen, that a sentence of the cliurch reduced John to almost total ruin, from which he only saved himself by the most absolute submission, and the transference of his dominions to the Roman see. On the other hand, the curse of Rome did not greatly affect Prince Louis, while the barons of England contin- ued to espouse his cause. And not long subsequent to this time, Robert Bruce of Scotland, excommunicated as he was for the murder of Comyn, found the spiritual cen- sure no great impediment to the recovery of his crown. So that it was the force of public opinion, which added mucli to the effectual weight of the anathema of the church. But the affairs of Louis were deranged by circumstan- ces different from, and independent of, the Pope's sen- tence of excommunication, although, as the scale turned tliat sentence acquired weight which it had not when first pronoimced. In the space of the first two months Louis marched successfully through England, and reduc- ed the wliple southern parts of that kingdom to his obedi- ence. But he met a check before the castle of Dover, which was defended with obstinacy and success by Hu- bert de Burgh, and a select garrison. The most formi- dable military engine of the French was in vain pointed against the walls of a place strong by nature, and forti- fied with all the skill of the period. Althiough success seemed almost impossible, Louis continued the siege with unavailing obstinacy, and the time which he wasted be- fore Dover, gave John leisure once more to collect his forces, and afforded opportunity for dissensions to spring up among the allies of Prince Louis. Windsor Castle was besieged by the Prince with the same ill success as Dover. John was once more at the head of a formida- ble army, and what was still more ominous to the cause of Louis, the English barons be";an to draw oft' from hia 216 ri:;nevval of thk great charter. siiie, on (ii;^c8ming tliat be treated his countrymen with undue partiality, and afforded Httle countenan.ee to tlie lords of England who had joined him. A report was spread, that the Viscount of JMelun had, on his death- bed, confessed a purpose on the part of Louis to put to death the barons who had joined his party, as traitors to Jheir natural monarch. Whether the report was founded in truth or not, it was certainly believed ; insomuch, that several nobles of distinction deserted the cause of Louis, and returned to their original allegiance. Many or most others were only withheld from doing the same, from a dread of the false and vindictive char- acter of John, when, at this critical periodj an event took place which fortunately saved England from the dreadful alternative of a foreign yoke, or a bloody civil war. King John delivered the country from the extremity to which he had reduced it, by his sudden death, the only thing which could have relieved it. This prince, whose ty- ranny had occasioned the evils of his kingdom, and the general apprehension of whose perfidy prevented their being removed, died at Newark-upon-Trent, at the yet robust age of forty-nine years, on 19th October, 12J6. (A. D.) This opportune event changed the scene, for the re- volted barons, already inclined to return to their alle- giance, had now to treat with a young prince of the na- tive family of their own kings, instead of a foreigner, whose faith they had some reason to distrust, or the tyrant John, whose treachery and cruelty were alike to be dreaded. Henry III., the eldest son and successor of John, was only in his tenth year, so that the assistance of a guardian, or protector, was absolutely necessary. The Earl of Pembroke, a wise and brave nobleman, was chosen to this eminent but difficult office. Loyal to the young prince, he was, at the same time, friendly to the liberties of the subject, and his first act was, as a voluntary grant on the part of the crown, to renew the Great Charter of the Liberties which John had granted with so much formality, LOUIS WITHDRAWS FROM ENGLaND. 211 and afterwards endeavoured to retract. This open and inanly measure served as an assurance that, in the new reign, the regal power was to be administered with due respect to the freedom of the subject ; and, in conse- quence, the English barons, who could have no cause of personal complaint against the young king, began, upon this favourable prospect, to throng back to his standard, and to desert that of Louis of France. - Louis, who had received considerable re-enforcements from his father, and was naturally reluctant to aban- don what was once so hopeful an enterprise, still im- prudently persevered in his attempts on Dover Castle, without being able to overcome the resistance of Hubert de Burgh. Other indecisive sieges and skirmishes took place, until at length, in the beginning of the summer 1217, (A. D.) the French army, under the Earl of Perche, was totally defeated under the walls of Lincoln, and in the streets of the town. This disaster closed the struggle, and a treaty of peace was concluded betwixt Louis and the Lord Protector, Pembroke, by which the former honourably stipulated for the indemnity of such English barons as adhered to his party, and for the free- dom, without ransom, of the numerous French prisoners taken at the battle of Lincoln. Under these conditions, Louis resigned his pretensions to the crown of England, and enoao'ed to use his intercession with his father for the restoration of the fief of Normandy, and others conquered from King John by Philip ; and if his intercession should prove ineffectual, the prince farther bound himself to restore these foreign dominions to England, when he him- self should accede to the throne of France. Prince Louis accordingly withdrew to France with all his forces, leaving the young prince, Henry, peacefully seated upon the throne. Thus terminated an important crisis, wliich threatened in the commencement to make England a province of France, as a fair and fertile part of France liad, in the time of the kings succeeding the Conquest, been fiefs of England, until taken from John, who ac- 10 VOL. I- 4th See. 213 WAR WITH THE ALBIGENSES KENEWED. quired, from, his loss of territory, the dishonourable title of Lack-Land, or landless. Louis, the Prince of France, having left one field of strife in England, found in his own country another, which was ahnost equally unsuccessful. This was the renewed war against the unfortunate heretics in the south, of France, called the Albigenses. These unhappy people had been treated with much oppression and cruelty by Simon de Montfort, who came against them at the head of the dis- solute and disorderly bands who were called crusaders, conquered them, and had been created their earl, or count. But he continued to persecute the heretics with sucli unrelenting severity, and so oppressed them, that, being able to endure their sufferings no longer, they rushed to arms, restored their old Count Raymond to the government of his fief, and became again formidable. Simon de Montfort hastened once more to form the siege of Toulouse ; but the cause of the oppressed was victo- rious, and this cruel and tyrannical leader fell before the city, while his wife and family remained the prisoners of the Albigenses. The Pope, alarmed at the success of these heretics, as he termed them, became urgent with King Philip to be active against them, while an assembly of the church, held at Mantes, again determined on preaching the cru- sade against the Albigenses. Philip, although he himself had gone to Palestine, in his memorable crusade with King Richard, was by no means a favourer of these im- politic expeditions. On the other hand, he dared not re- fuse the request of the Pope and clergy, and reluctantly permitted his son Louis, with an army of fifteen thousand men again to take the cross against the heretics in the south of France. But the prince prosecuted the war with so much coldness, that it was supposed Louis was either indifferent in the cause himself, or had private in- structions from his father not to conduct it with activity. At length he was recalled from the enterprise entirely, by his father's command. The pretext was, the neces- wiy of the p'-inc^'s attendance on a grand council, to be UEATH OF PHILIP AUGUSTUS. 519 held at Mantes, for considering an offer made by Arnaury, son o£ Simon de Montfort. This young man, the heir of the title which his father had acquired over Toulouse by his first conquest, thought he perceived the reason why France was so cold in recovering these possession^;. He therefore proposed to cede to the crown of France hij own right to the earldom, that Philip and his son might have a deep personal interest in carrying on the war with vigour. This would probably have given more activity to the movements of Philip Augustus against the Albi- genses. But he did not survive to accept of the cession offered by de Montfort, as he died of a fever at Mantes, in July, 1223, (A. D.) He was incomparably the great est prince that had held the French throne since the days of Charlemagne. At his death, he left the proper domin- ions of France nearly doubled in extent, by his valour and prudence, and greatly improved in wealth, strength, tnd convenience, by the formation of roads, the fortifica- ti*. n cf defenceless towns, the creation of public works, anv.j other national improvements, arising from his wise administration. He was in general successful in his mili- tary exploits, as much owing to the sagacity with which he planned, as to the bravery with which he executed them. The battle of Bou vines, in particular, was one of those decisive contests upon which the fate of nations depends ; and had Philip been defeated, it is certain that France would have been divided by Otho and the con- federates, and doubtful, to say the least, whether it could have been again united into one single kingdom of the first rank. 220 ACCESSION OF LOTUS THE LION. CHAPTER XIII. Accession of Louts the Lion — War with England-" Crusade against the Albigenses — Death of Louis- Regency of Q^ueen Blanche — Conspiracy of the Crown Vassals suppressed, — Louis assumes the Cross — -Lands at Damietta, and captures that place — Disasters of the French in their march to Grand Cairo — Louis arid great part of his Army taken prisoners — JVegociations for their ransom — Murder of the Sultan by his Body Guard — Conduct of the Assassins towards the French King — Confinement of the Queen during her Hus- band^s captivity — Louis returns to France, on the Death of his Mother — his Despondency. Philip Augustus was succeeded in his throne by his eldest son, Louis VIII., whose unsuccessful wars in Eng- land we have already noticed. He was called by the surname of the Lion, from his personal courage, doubt- less, rather than from his success in arms, of which last he had not much to boast. He had scarcely assumed the throne, when he was greeted by an ambassador from Henry III., demanding the restoration of the provinces which the English mon- arch's ancestors had held in France, in terms of the treaty made and sworn to when he left England in 1217. Louis was, however, determined on no account to comply with this article, the fulfilment of which would have occasioned the revival of the English power in France, which had been so serious a subject of annoyance and apprehension to his predecessors. In vindication of the breach of his oath, he alleged that the English, on their part, had not tulfilled the treaty of 1217, that some of the English barons of his party had met with usage contrary to the promise of indemnity pledged in their behalf, and thai ■ some French prisoners, made at the battle of Lincoln CRUSADE AGAINST THE ALBIGEN!ES. 221 i.nstead of being set at liberty in terms of the compact, had been compelled to ransom themselves. Taking upon him, therefore, the character of one who had sustained, and not inflicted a wrong, King Louis, in- stead of restoring Normandy, proceeded, in imitation of his father's policy, to invade and besiege those towns which the English still possessed in Poitou ; and Niort, Saint Jean d'Angeli, and finally Rochelle itself, fell into his hands, after a valiant defence. Bourdeaux, and the country beyond the Garronne, was the only part of the ample dominions witliin France, once acknowledging the English authority, which still remained subject to that power. Tliis territory would probably have followed the fate of the other forfeited or reconquered fiefs, but Henry III., now a young man, sent an expedition, commanded by his brother Richai-d, Earl of Cornwall, and consisting of a considerable number of troops, to its relief. At the same time he created Richard Count of Poitou. The Gascons were favourable to the English, with whom they maintained a profitable traffic. They were also flattered by the proposal to place them immediately under the command of a prince of the English blood royal, and prepared to resist the invasion of Louis so obstinately, that the King of France thought it judicious to consent to a truce for three years. (A. D. 1224.) He had in- deed still upon his hands the civil war with the Albigen- ses ; and though he has been blamed for granting the English a truce, it may be supposed he acted wisely in undertaking only one of these formidable enterprises at a lime. He was urged to renew the crusade against the south- ern heretics, by the legate of the Pope, but in consenting to do so, failed not to secure such personal interest in the adventure, as might ensure to himself the principal ad- vantage of its success. For this purpose, Louis renewed \he treaty which his father had commenced with Amaury de JVlontfort, and promising to that count the post of High Constable of France, when a vacancy should occur, he 222 DEATH OF lOUlS THE LION accepted fiom him the cession of all rights he inherited i'rom his father, the Count of Touloiise. Having thus provided for his own interest in the under- taking, the king assembled an army of fifty thousand men, consisting of the best and boldest of his vassals, at the head of their followers. With this large force he first besieged Avignon, wliere the citizens were at first dispos- ed to open their gates, but refused to receive any pei'son within them, except the king with his ordinary train. But unlimited access was demanded, and the townsmen, afraid too justly of pillage and .massacre, shut their gates, and stood on their defence. Tiiey fought with the utmost obstinacy, and the besiegers lost above two thousand men, amongst whom was that celebrated Cornte de Saint Paul, who had acquired so much honour at the battle of Bou- vines'. At lengtli the citizens of Avignon wf re compelled to submit to a capitulation, the terms of which were un- commonly severe. The establishment of ti)e Roman Catholic religion was exclusively provided for ; and two hundred hostages were given to that effect, sons of the most wealthy inhabitants. Some of those who had conducied the defence were hanged, or otherwise pun- ished ; the fortifications were dismantled ; the ditches filled up ; and three liundred of the best houses were levelled witli the ground, to complete the humiliation of the city. After Avignon had surrendered, it was the object of Louis to march against Toulouse, and inflict a similar vengeance on that town, the metropolis of the revolted province. But his army had suffered so severely from want of provisions, from the sword, and from pestilential disease, that the King was compelled to grant them some relaxation from military duty, which they were not at the iime capable of discharging. But Louis had himself performed before Avignon his last campaign. On retiring to Monpensier, he was seized with a fever, of which he died, 12th November, (A. D 1226,) having reigned only four years, and being in the very pnme of his manhood. He was succeeded by hi? REGENCY OF QUEEN BLANCHE. 223 Dnly son, who bore his own name, and was afterwards distinguished in the royal catalogue by the title of Saini Louis. The epithet of Saint, in those superstitious times, inferred at least as much weakness as virtue ; and we shall see that Louis, while he was an honour to the char- acter "n the higher virtues, was not without the imperfec- tions usually attending a reputation for sanctity, compre- hending, of course, much devotion to the Pope, and great liberality to the church. The Queen Blanche, relict of the deceased monarch, acted as regent for her son. She was eldest daugliter of Alphonso, King of Castile, byhis wife Eleanor, daugh- ter of tliat celebrated Eleanor of Aquitaine, by her second marriage with Henry 11. of England. The char- acter of Blanche, during the life of her husband, had not been called forth to any remarkable display; but Louis Vlll., who had great confidence in her wisdom, had named her in his settlement the regent of France, until his son should attain the years of majority. She had, therefore, an arduous duty to discharge, especially as very many of the crown vassals of the highest rank, dissatis- fied with the power attained by the king during the last two reigns, had formed a league together, u[)on the prin- ciple of that which was adopted by the confederates, previous to the battle of Bouvines, and the purpose of which, Philip's victory in that battle had for the time disconcerted. The opportune occurrence of a minority, during which the crown's authority was to be administered by a female, and a foreigner, seemed, to various of the petty princes, who were ambitious of rivalling; the king in all but the name, a time highly fitted for recovering by force, if necessary, that degree of independence of which they had been deprived by the policy and success of Philip [Augustus and his short-lived son, Louis the Lion. The still existing insurrection of the Albigenses was a great encouragement to the confederates, and Raymond of Toulouse was one of the most zealous of their number. He was ono who could be easily justified ; for, while tliH 224 CONSPIRACY OF THE CROWN VASSALS. Others became rebels and conspirators, for objects of personal power and ambition, to which they had -a very doubtful claim, Raymond was a prince unjustly deprived of his territones, which he was naturally desirous to re- cover. The other nobles engaged in the conspiracy against the queen regent were, Philip, Count of Boulogne, the brother of the late king, who claimed the regency as of "ight appertaining to him by descent ; the powerful Earls or Counts Thibault, of Champagne, Hugh de la Marche, Hugh de Saint Paul, Simon de Ponthieu ; there was, besides, Peter, Duke of Bretagne ; a)! princes of the first rank for wealth, and power, which it was their object to hold with no greater degree of dependence on the crown of France, than they might find indispensable. In fact, it was their object to deprive the king of all power, beyond what might become a president of the cour pleniere, and general of the armies of the kingdom. Alone, or nearly so, a stranger and a woman, opposed to so many powerful nobles, Blanche conducted herself with great courage and ability. Ere the confederates had matured their plan of hostilities, she suddenly attacked Raymond of Toulouse, reduced him to ask terms by which he became bound to renounce the heretical opinions of the Albigenses, and to give his daughter and heiress in marriage to Alphonso, her own fourth son by the late king, and thus secured the final reversion of these rich territories to the royal family. The next part of her undertaking was the subjugation of the confederates, who laid aside the mask, and began to show their real purpose ; and here her female power^ extreme beauty and corresponding address, were of the greatest service. Thibault, Count of Champagne, a prince of great possessions, was renowned alike as a good knight, and as an excellent troubadour, or poet, in which ca- pacity he had, even during the life of her husband, Louis VIU., selected as the theme of his praise, and the sove- reign mistress of his affections, no other than Blanche herself. The adoration of a poet, in thoye times, had in ADDRESS OF ^UEEN BLANCHE. 22« il nothing tliat was necessarily hurtful to a lady's reputa- tion, nevertiieless, it was said that the queen had expressed resentment at the liberty which the Count of Champagne had taken in fixing his affections so high, and in making his admiration so public. It is even surmised, that the severity with which the queen treated the enamoL;red poet, was so highly resented by him, that his mortification was the cause of his joining the confederates. But a woman of address and beauty knows well how to recover the affections of an offended lover ; and if her admirer should be of a romantic and poetical temperament, he is still more easily recalled to his allegiance. It cost the queen but artfully throwing out a hint, that she would be pleased to see Thibault at court ; and the faithful lover was at her feet and at her command. On two important occasions, the enamoured troubadour disconcerted the plans of [lis political confederates, like a faithful knight, in obedience to the commands of the lady of his affec- tions. Upon one of these occasions. Count Thibault gave private intimation of a project of the inalecontents to seize the person of the queen, on a journey from Orleans to Paris. Their purpose, being once known, was easily defeated, by the queen-mother throwing herself and hei son into a strong fortress, till a suitable escort was col- lected to ensure their passage in safety to the capital. On another occasion the king having called an assembly of his nobles to oppose Peter of Bretagne, wdio had ap- peared' in open arms, the conspiring nobles agreed to bring each to the rendezvous a party of followers, in ap- parent obedience to the royal command, which, though it should seem but moderate, in regard to each indivirlual prince's retinue, should, when united, form a preponde- rating force. But this stratagem was also disconcerted by the troubadour Earl of Champagne, who, to please his royal mistress, brought a stronger attendance than all the others put together ; so, that, as none of the other great vassals dared to take the part of Peter of Bretagne, he was obliged to submit to the royal authority. 954 226 quEEN Blanche's influence over The Count of Champagne had hke to have desrl) bought his compliance with the pleasure of his lajtJy-love, instead of pursuing the line of politics of the confede- rates. He was attacked by the whole confederacy, who, enraged at his tergiversation, agreed to expel him fioin his country, and confer Champagne upon the Queen of Cyprus, who had some claim to it as heiress of Thibault's elder brother. Blanche was so far grateful to her de- voted lover, that she caused her son to march to his succour, and repel the attack on his territories. Yet she sought to gain something for the crown, by this act of kindness, and therefore intimated to the count, that, to defray the expenses of the war, and compensate the claims of his niece, it would be expedient that he should sell to the young king his territories of Blois, Chartres, Chateaudun, and Sansevre. The count murmured forth some remonstrances, in being required to part with so valuable a portion of his estates. But so soon as Blanche, with a displeased look, reproached him with his disobe- dience and ingratitude, he fetched a dee]) sigh, as he re- plied, " By my faith, madam, my heart, my body, my life, my land, are all at your absolute disposal !" The crown of France acquired the territory accordingly. Jt does not appear that the devotions of this inliituated lover were offensive to Queen Blanche herself, who, as a woman, might be proud of her absolute influence over a man of talents, and, as a politician, might judge it desi- rable to preserve that influence over a powerful nobleman, when it was maintained at the cheap price of an obliging word, or glance. But some of the French courtiers grew impatient of the absurd pretensions of Thibault to the queen's favour. They instigated Robert of Artois one of the sons of Louis VI II., who was little beyond child- liood, to put an affront upon the Count of Champagne by throwing a soft cream-cheese in his face. Enthusiasm of every kind is peculiarly sensible to ridicule. Thi- bault became aware that lie was laughed at, and a? the rank and youth of the culprit prevented the prince being the subject o{ revenge, the Count of Champagne retired THE COUNT Of CHAMPAGNE. 227 from tlie court for ever, and in his feuda dominions en- deavoured lo find consolation in tlie favour of the uuises, for the rigour, and perhaps tlie duplicity, of his royal mistress. This troubadour monarch afterwards became King of Navarre, and his extravagant devotion to beauty and poetry did not prevent his being held, in those days, a sagacious as well as accomplished sovereign. Other mtrigues the queen mother was able to discon- cert, by timely largesses bestowed upon the needy among liie conspirators, while some she subdued by force of arms. In the latter case, she committed the conduct of the ro}al forces to Ferrand, Earl of Flanders, the same who was taken prisoner at the battle of Bouvines, who conducted himself with all the fidelity and intelligence she could have desired. And, in short, by pa.ience, courage, policy, and well used opportunity, Queen Blanche not only preserved that degree of authority which was attached to the throne when she was called to the ad- ministration of affairs, but consolidated and augmented it considerably. It may be that the wars and intrigues of the Queen of France would have ended less fortunately, if the weight of England had been thrown into the opposite scale ; and you may wonder that this was not the case, since no time could have occurred more suitable than the minority of Saint Louis, for the recovery of those French territo- ries which the skill and conduct of Philip Augustus won from the imbecility of liis contemporary. King John. Indeed, at the accession of Louis VIII., when the period was less favourable, Henry III., or his connsellois, liad^ as we observed, made a formal demand that Normandy, and the other provinces claimed by England, should be restored. But although many of the barons of the prov- inces once attached to England offered their assistance eaiieiiy ; akhough the possession of Bourdeaux rendered a descent easy ; although the Duke of Bretagne, whom ive have mentioned as a chief of the league against the crown of France, endeavoured to (u-ge the court of Eng- land to an invasion, which he pledged himself to supDorl 228 CHARACTER OF HENRY III. with his utmost force ; yet the character of Henry lit ;if Enirland was totally unfit for such an undertakin":. He had some of his father John's faults, being, though less cruel than he, fully as timid in his person, and as rash in his attempts. He was extravagantly expensive, and notoriously faithless ; an encroacher upon tlie rights of his subjects, and repeatedly guilty of the breach of his most solemn promises and engagements to them. Henry was also, like his father, an indolent and wretched conductor of an undertaking requiring activity and reso- lution. In 1229, (A. D.) Henry did indeed attempt liis long-threatened invasion of France ; but with so little precaution, that, when his army was assembled, it was found there had been no care taken to provide an ade- quate number of vessels. They passed to St. ftlaloes, however, and were joined by the Duke of Bretagne, with all his forces, but instead of leading the army to action, Henry spent the money which had been provided for their support in mere lavish and expensive follies, and returned to England after three or four months' idle and useless stay in France, almost without having broken a lance in the cause which had induced him to leave his kingdom. On returning to England, this imprudent prince became engaged in those intestine divisions with his peo- ple which were called tlie Barons' Wars, and which left him no time, if he had had inclination, to trouble him- self about the affairs of France. Meantime the Duke of Bretagne, deserted by his ally, was hard pressed by the royal forces, and demanded a respite only till he should make application to Henry for relief On re- ceiving a refusal, the unfortunate duke saw himself obliged to present himself before his sovereign, the King of France, with a halter around his neck, and solicit mercy in the most humiliating terms. The disgrace .of this pageant lay with the English king, whose neglect tc «5upi)ort his allv had rendered this scene of abject sub- nission the only road to safety which the deserted prince could pursue. England being thus occupied with her internal quar- BLANCHE S ASCENDENCY OVER HER SON. 229 relsj the Queen mother Blanclie met with no interruption from tlmt quarter, while she extended the power of her son over tlie discontented vassals whose ohject it had been to restrict it. But with her grandtnother Eleanor of Aquitaine's masculine energies of disposition, Blanche possessed no small share of her ambition. She was in no hurry to surrender to her son the supreme power which she had administered so well ; nor did the dutiful Louis, though now approaching his twenty-first year, seem im- patient to take upon himself the character of governor. On the contrary, although he assumed the name of sov- ereign, yet he continued to yield to the queen mother, at least in a great measure, the actual power of administra- tion. It was said, that this deference to maternal authority, more implicit than was becoming for him to yield, or his mother to exact, arose from his having been educated more like a monk, to whom strict obedience is one great duty enjoined, than like a sovereign, who was not only to think for himself, but to decide upon the actions ot others. Signs of this monastic education were to be seen in the bigoted attachment with which the future saint re- garded every thing either really religious, or affecting to be so ; and the narrowness of his mode of thinking in this respect led to the principal misfortunes of his reign. It is possible, however, that committing his educ lion almost entirely to churchmen, might be a measure -adopted as much from the queen mother's own super- stitious feelings, as from a desire to keep her f.on in the background. Blanche's jealousy of those of her own sex who ap- proached her son and sought to please him, was not, per- haps, an extraordinary, though an inconvenient excess of maternal fondness. But she was singularly unreasonable in extending her jealousy to her son's wife, a beautiful woman, Margaret, one of the daughters of Raymond Berenger, Count of Provence. The servants of the household had orders, when the King and Queen wore 230 LOUIS ASSUMES THE CROSS, in pri\ate together, to wliip the doi^s which \ver« ?,bont the royal apartment, so lliat the cries of the animals might give the queen mother a hint to burst in on the retirement and priyacy of her son and iiis wife. Tlie young queen reproached her mother-in-law with this jeal- ous vigilance ; and when Blanche caused Louis to removo from the apartment in which his wife was about to be confined, "You will not let me speak with my husband," said iMargaret, " whether living or dying." The docility of the son, in a case where he had a reasonable excuse for resistance, seems to have been car- ried to an amiable excess. Yet, it is certain, that whether her contluct in this particular arose out of policy or n)is- taken fondness, the love of Blanche for her son was 'equally sincere and maternal. In the bias, however, which his mind had taken towards a strict interpretation of his duties in snorality and religion, tinged as the latter was with the superstition of his age, it was plain that the first iin|iulse which Louis might consider as a direction fiom Heaven, would induce him to fall into the prevailing error of the time, by assuming the cross, and departing for the Holy Land. Accordingly, a sudden illness, m which he remained insensible for the space of twenty-four hours, struck the young king with such alarm, that he took the cross from the hands of the Archbishop of Paris, and made a solemn vow to march in person against the infidels with a royal army. It was in vain that the wisest of his ministers pointed out to Louis the disasters which his predecessors had sustained by such imprudent and ill-fated engage- ments. Even his mother, though his departure must restore her to full power as regent, in name as well as authority, dissuaded her son from this fatal enterprise. In reply, the king maintained, that as he had continued to recover hourly since his vow was taken, the purport of it must of course have been agreeable to the divine will ; and he would only promise that he would endeavour to arrange the preparations for his enterprise, at full ieis.ire, and with as much precaution as should secure its ANU DEPARTS FOR THE HOLY LAND. 23 J success, and the safety of his dominions during his ab- sence. He oblair cd from tiie church a grant of the tenth of tlieir revenues, to sustain the expense of his under- taking. Gradually, too, he prevailed upon many of the nobility, and among these the Count of Marche and the Duke of Bretagne, two of the most powerful and turbu- lent of their number, to follow his example, and accom- pany him to the East. The motions of the future saint were arrested during his j)reparations, by the arrival at his court of Richard, King of the Romans, brother of Henry HI. of England, with an embassy from that power. " Sir King of France," said this distinguished envoy, " you cannot un- dertake to wage a holy war against the infidels, until you. do justice to your brother of England, bereft as be has been by your father of the provinces belonging to him in France." The King of France was so much startled at this ob- jection to his purpose, that he referred the case, as a scruple of conscience, to a conclave of Norman bishops ; and it was not till they formally gave their opinion that no restitution sliould be made, that Louis declined the request of the King of the Romans. King Louis now prepared for his crusade, and departed, carrying with him his young wife, although the instance of Philip le Jeune was a bad example to recommend such policy. Robert and Charles, his two brothers, also accompanied the king in his adventurous expedition. Passing down the Rhone fi'om Lyons, he embarked from the shores of the Mediterranean, and landed at Cyprus on the 25th September, 1274, (A. D.) It was his pur- pose to proceed from thence in the spring, in order to mvade the kingdom of Egvpt ; for experience bad mad« it obvious, that, although Palestine might be conquered for a season, it coidil never be eAbctually protected oi defended, as an independent Christian state, until the infidels should be deprived of the populous and rich king- dotn of Egypt, which lay so near the Holy Land. The number of his army amounted ^o about fifty thousand 232 CAPTURE OF DAMIETTA. men, of which it was computed there were ten thousand cavah-y ; and they disembarked in safety, as they had proposed, before the town of Damietta. Here Louis, who, with all his superstition, displayed a great fund of personal warth and bravery, sprung into the sea in com- plete armour, waded ashore among the foremost, with the Oriflamme displayed, and made good his landing in spite of twent) thousand men, by whom the shore and city of Damietta were defended. The invaders seized upon, and garrisoned the city, which was opulent, extensive, and well foitified. Louis, with wise precaution, took into his custody the magazines which they had acquired in the storm which followed the capture ; but the subordi- nate leaders of the crusade were dissatisfied, contending that, on such occasions, the share of the commander-in- chief was limited to one-third of the spoil, and that the rest belonged to his associates. This introduced dissatis- faction and insubordination among the feudal lords, and greatly affected Louis's authority. Want of discipline being thus introduced, it was speed- ily perceived that the army of Saint Louis was not of better morals than those of other crusaders, and the ut- most licentiousness was practised, under the countenance of some of the courtiers, within a stone's cast of the king's own pavilion. In the meantime, the crusaders remained in Damietta, waiting, first for the abatement of tlie inundation of the Nile, and thereafter for the arrival of Alphonso, Count of Poitiers, who had been separated from his brother by stress of weather, or, as others say, had been later than Louis in setting out from France. This prince arrived at length ; and Louis resolved to sally from the city, for the purpose of marching to Grand ' Cairo, which the invaders termed Babylon. But the river Nile, wliich the Christians believed to come from the terrestrial Paradise, was at that time still in flood, and interrupted their march on every side. One broad canal in particular, opposed their passage. As they had neither boat? nor bridges, the crusaders attempted to cross the canal by means of a mound— -an awkward ccnlrivanre. GALLANTRY OF THE FRENCH. 233 in which t ley totally failed. While engaged in this fruit- less labour, the Christians were opposed at every turn by the light-armed Saraoens who attacked the military en- gmes by which they endeavoured to cover their passage, with balls of Greek fire, a species of inflammable matter shot from the artillery then in use, extremely difficult to quench, and which fiew through the air, resembling in appearance a fiery dragon. Saint Louis himself seems rather to have sought refuge in his tears and devotions, than in attempting to stop the conflagration. The cru- saders were obliged to renew the engines which had been destroyed, with such part of the ships as could be dis- mantled for that purpose. Tlie Count of Artois, with imprudent valour, found at length the means of passing the canal at a dangerous ford ; and, instead of halting till he was supported, rushed on with two thousand horse, and forced his way into the village of Massoura, where the Saracens gave themselves up for lost. But their troops being rallied by a valiant soldier, who was after- wards raised to the rank of sovereignty, the advanced party of the Count of Artois were enclosed within the village. The inhabitants poured on them stones, javelins, arrows, scalding water, and all sorts of missiles from tlie roofs of the liouses, which were flat, and well adapted to this species of defence. Most of the Christians were slain ; and the Count of Artois, after having for some time defended himself in one of the houses of the vil- lage, at lenijth fell fii;;htin!j valiantly. The king, to whom his brother's death was reported, wept bitterly for the loss he had sustained ; and was much grieved when he heard that the chief of the Sara- cens displayed the coat-of-armour of the fallen prince, as if it had been that of the king himself. Although tlie French had the worst in this unequal and confused bat- tle, their chivalry maintained the reputation which it had in Europe. Louis, surrounded by several Saracens, de» fended liimself against them all ; and when siy of the pnncipa Mamelukes took shelter behind a heap of stones 234 LOUIS RETREATS, AND WITH from tlie shot of :he French crossbows, to which they replied with arrows and Greek fire, a stout priest called John de VVaysy, clad in his cuirass and head-|)iece, and armed witli liis two-handed sw^ord, lushed on theai so suddenly, that, astonished at his resolution, they dis- persed themselves and fled. But notwithstanding these, and many other feats of arms highly honourable to the crusaders, the losses of the Saracens were easily re- placed ; whereas, every soldier that fell on the part of the French, was an irreparable loss. A subsequent ac- tion in which the Greek fire was showered upon the Christians so that it covered even Louis's own horse^ and burnt whatever was opposed to it, both men and military engines, completed the disasters of this unfortunate army. The invaders were now reduced to a defensive warfare ; and this was sustained at the greatest disadvantage. A dreary duty remained, after these battles were over. Tlie king, says his historian Joinville, hired a hundred labourers to separate the bodies of the Christians from those of the pagans ; the former were interred ; the Saracens were thrust under the bridge, and floated down to the sea. " God knows," says the gallant knight, " how noisome was the smell, and how miserable it was to see the bodies of such noble and worthy persons lie exposed. 1 wit- nessed the chamberlain of the late Count of Artois seek- ing the body of his master, and many more hunting after those of their friends ; but none who were exposed to the infectious smell, while engaged in this office, ever recovered tlieir health. Fatal diseases in consequence broke out in the army ; their limbs were dried up and destroyed, and almost all were seized with a complaint in '».he mouth, from wdiich many never recovered." The Sv^urvy, whicii is intimated by tliis last disease, made frightful ravages among the crusaders, a part of whom were now cooped up in Damietta, or under its walls The Saracens dragged their armed galleys across the land, and laimclied ijiem in the Nile, beneath the city which was thus blockaded by land and water. Provisions HIS ARMY TAKEN CAPTIVE. 235 weie extremely scarce, and the eels of the river, wliich fed upon the numberless dead bodies, became tlie princi pal subsistence of the French arn)y, and increased the pestilential disease. Tlie condition of the Christians became now so despe- rate, that Louis resolved to retreat to Damietta, and call in all the outposts and vanguard of his army, which were on their march to Cairo. The kinii; himself mi^-ht have made his retreat in safety by water ; but it was no part of his plan to desert his army. He himself quitted his own battalion, and, with Sir Geoffrey de Sergines, joined the rear division, thus continuing his countermarch as far as the town of Casel. In the latter part of his retreat, the Turks catneso close upon him, that Sir Geoffrey was obliged to drive them off with strokes of the blade and point of his sword ; at length, the unfortunate prince was reduced to such a state, that he was obliged to lie down with i)is head in the lap of a female, who had come from Paris ; he expected every moment to die in that posture. Walter de Chatillon, with the constancy of a gallant knight, planted himself alone at the door of the house in which the king lay, attacked every infidel who passed, and put them repeatedly to flight. Tlie king, who saw him rush to the attack alone, brandishing his sword, and rising in his stirrups, exclaimed, in his hour of distress, " Ha, Chatillon ! gallant knight, where are all our good companions?" The faithful knight was at length over- powered by numbers, and his fate made known by the condition of his horse, which was seen covered with blood in the possession of a Saracen, who claimed th.e merit of having slain its gallant master. In the meantime, most of those who had fled, rather than retreated, towards Damietta, had already been slaugh- tered by the Saracens, or had delivered themselves up to captivity. Scarcely even the deplorable catastrophe of Louis le Jeune was more unfortunate in its conse- quences, than the termination of the last crusade but one prepared for with so much care, and ending with so muci: wretchedness. The King, his remaining brother, many 236 TOURAN SHAH, THE SULTAN, princes of the blood royal and high noblesse, and the wreck of his noble army, fell as captives into the , hands of the infidels, and were treated with the most atrocious severity. Upon the first surrender of the prisoners, the only choice assigned them was that of embracing the Moslem faith, or submitting to instant death ; and by far the great- er part adopted the choice of martyrdom. When, how- ever, it began to be discovered that most of the prison- ers had the means of paying a high ransom, the barba- rians, into whose hands they fell, became more desirous of lucre than of bloodshed, and exchanged for ransom most of those who were able to comply with their de- mands. The Sultan of Egypt began also to reflect that Damietta was still garrisoned by the Christians, and might safely apprehend their retaining it till succours should come from Europe. These considerations made him de- sirous of an accommodation, by which he should rid Egypt of its troublesome visiters. But the nature of the government to which that coun- try was now subjected, rendered the fate of the prisoners extremely uncertain, and precarious ; but to enable you to understand the circumstances in which they were placed, it is necessary to explain what the nature of that government was. Touran Shah, the reigning sultan of Egypt, was a great-grand.' on of the brother of the famous Saladin, whom we have seen the opponent of Richard Coeur de Lion ; but the followers of these sultans had been ren- dered effeminate by the pleasures of a rich country, and were no longer capable of engaging in battle, or attaining victory over such rugged opponents, as King Louis and his Franks. To supply this general deficiency of cour- age and sp rit in their soldiers, the preceding sultans of Egypt had been accustomed to levy chosen troops from the numerous bands of slaves, which they bought on the verge of Tartary, or in other foreign countries. Tiiese. chiefly Georgians, Circassians, and the like, were select- ed while children, for their form and strength, carefully AND HIS MERCENARIES. 23*1 educated in martial exercises, and taughV io understand from early years tliat their distinction in life must depend upon the undaunted use which they should learn to make of their spears and scimitars. They were allowed i)is,li pay and great privilej^es, and those who distinguislied themselves were raised to the rank of officers over the others. From these chosen troops the sultan selected his viziers', generals, lieutenants, and governors. As has been always found tlie case in similar instances, this body of mercenary soldiers became dangerous even to the prince in wliose service they were enrolled, and frequently assumed the light of disposing of the crown, which they were engaged to defend, as well as tlie life of him that wore it. It was they who, with such determined valour, had interrupted the advance, and followed up the retreat, of the valiant Franks ; and, filled with a high idea of their own prowess, and a contempt of tlie native troops of the country, they thought that Touran Shah was not sufficiently grateful to tiiem for the victory which he had obtained by their support, or that he manifested some intention of laying them aside for a more docile .soldiery. Of this unfortunate sultan we know little ; but he ap- pears neither to have been destitute of the bravery nor the generosity wdiich became a successor of Saladin. The valiant Sieur de Joinville saw h'un in the front of battle, taller by the shoulders than those around him, and wield- ing with courage the German sword which he bore in his hand. His gilded helmet was placed proudly on his head; "and 1 never," says the historian, "saw a more gallant man under arms." Nor was his conduct less jirincely than his appearance. At first, indeed, the French in their captivity were threatened with a terrific death by torture, unless they would renounce the Chris- tiaii faith to ensure their personal "safety. Such a pro- posal under such tremendous threats, was made to the king himself. But when Saint Louis jhowed by his firmness thai he held such menaces in scorn, the Saracen prmce s';nt a message in a milder tone, demanding tc 238 NEGOTIATION FOR A RANSOM. know wliat ransom the captive monarch was \viHin'T^ to pay, in addition to the suirender of Damietta, which was stipulated as one indispensable condition ol' his heedom. The King of Fiance replied, that if a reasonable ran- som was demanded, he would write to the queen, who was sfdl enclosed within the walls of Damietta, to pay it for him and for his army. The Saracens, whose man- ners permitted of no admission of women to their councils, asked with surprise to what purpose the queen should be consulted in such an affair. " Have I not reason ?" an- swered the simple-mannered and gallant-liearted Louis ; " is she not my wife and my companion ?" A second message informed the captive monarch that his ransom was fixed by the Sultan at a million of golden bezants, — equal, says Joinville, to five hundred thousand livres. At once, and without attempting farther to chaffer upon the bargain ; " I will cheerfully give," said Louis, " five hundred thousand livies for ransom of my army ; and for my own I will surrender the town of Damietta to the sultan ; for my rank is too high to be valued in money." Tiie suhan was seized with a generous emulation. " He is a right generous Frank," said Toiu'an Shah, " who does not cheapen our first offer like a merchant or ped- lar ; tell him 1 abate my demand in one-fifth, and that four hundred thousand livres shall be a most sufficient ransom." He also sent garments for the king's use, and seemed disposed to part with him upon liberal terms. But while Touran Shah was disposing of the fate of another, he little knew how near he approached to his own. The discontent of his body-guard of slaves, then called Haleuca, and the same which are now distinguisned by the well-known name of Mamelukes, had risen to the highest. Tliey broke out into insurrection, attacked the •jnfoilunate Touran Shah, set fire to his pavilion, and cut that unfortunate prince to pieces. Having connniited this murder, they came before tlie king and the Fi-ench captives, with their bloody baitle- EaC'S and sabres in their hands. '• What will you give me." said the foremost assassin, who was yet streaming PROPOSAL TO MAKE LOUIS SULTAN. 239 with the blood of Tooran Sliali^ " who have slain tlie enemy that sought tliy life ?" To this Saint Louis returned no answer. The French knights confessed themselves to each, other, expecting to be immediately massacred. Yet in the very flusli^ moment of their king's murder, and while seeming still greedy of more blood, the conspirators felt restraint from the dignified demeanour of their disarmed prisoner. They also re rnembered that Damietta still held a Christian garrison_ which might give them trouble. Under such impressions, they showed indeed a disposition sufficiently mischievous, yet they entered into new conditions, somewhat similar to those tliat had been prescribed by the murdered Touran Shah, but stipulating that the king should take an oath, binding him lo renounce his baptism and his faith, with the inestimable privileges purchased by them, in case he did not coniply with all the articles of the treaty. Louis constantly and magnanimously answered, " he would rather die a good Cliristian, than live l)y taking the im- pious and sinful oath which they would force upon him.'' The Patriarch of Jerusalem, who was present at the mo- jnent, was immediately seized by the soldiers, and tied to a post, so tightly, that the bK)od sprung from his hands, while the old man in agony called upon the king to swear boldly whatever the infidels chose, since he would take the sin upon his own soul, rather than endure this horrid torture. But whether the oath was taken or not, Join- ville^eclares he cannot tell. In the meantime the scene suddenly clianged, as was not urinatural among such fickle and barbarous men. A mirthful sound of trumpets and kettle-drums was heard before the tent, and King Louis was presented with an invitation from tha chiefs of the late conspiracy, to be- come theii sultan and sovereign, in room of the murdered Touran Shah. That such a proposal should be started, dnu)ng other wild plans, by men in tlie condition of the Mamelukes, slaves, strangers, and foreigners, indifferent to the Mahometan religion, and impressed by the un- daunted bravery of their royal captive was not perhajis 240 DISTRESS OF THE QUEEN. SO unnatural as if it bad been made elsewhere, or by otliers. But it does not seem to have been generally" embraced., or seriously insisted on. On the contrary, some of the leading emirs were of opinion, that, to alone for the treasonable slaughter of Touran Shah, a good Mahometan, by their hands, it was their duty to put to deatli Saint Louis and his followers, the mortal ene- mies of IMahomet and his religion. At length, however, the proposition for mercy prevailed, and a treaty for ran- som was carried into execution. Wliile these strange negotiations, if indeed they can be called such, were proceeding in this wild and mcertain maimer, Joinville informs us of other circumstances re- specting the Queen of France, who, as I before informed you, having accompanied her husband in this calamitous expedition, was enclosed with the remnant of the crusa- ders that held out Damietta. She was at that time with child ; a circumstance adding much to the distress of her situation, during her husband's captivity, aggravated by (he probability that she herself might fall into the hands of the victorious infidels. Her period of confinement was now close approaching. " Three days before she was brought to bed," says the faithful chronicler of the expedition, " she was informed that the good king her husband had been made prisoner, which so troubled her mind, that she seemed continually to see her chamber filled with Saracens, ready to slay her ; and she incessantly kept crying, ' Help, help !' when there was not a soul near her. For fear the fruit of her womb should perish, she made a knight watch at the foot of her bed all night without sleeping. This person was very old, not less than eighty years, or perhaps more ; and every time she screamed, he held her hands, and said, ' Madam, do not be thus alarmed ; I am with you ; quit these fears.' Before the good lady was brought to bed, she ordered every person to leave her chamber, except this ancient knight, when she cast herself out of bed on her knees before him, and requested that he would grant oer a boon. The knight with an oath, promised compli- LOUIS EMBARKS FOR ACRE. 24 J ance. The queen then said, ' Sir knight, I request on the oath you have sworn, that, should the Saracens stornj this town ind take it, you will cut oif my head belbre they seize my person.' The knight replied, that he would cheerfully do so, and that he had before thought of it, in case such an event should happen. The queen waSj shortly after, delivered of a son in the town of Damietta, whose name was John, and his surname Tristan, (i. e. the Sad,) because he had been born in misery and pov- erty. The day he was born, it was told the queen that the Pisans, the Geonese, and all the poorer European oommonalty (sailors,) that were in the town, were about to fly with their vessels, and leave the king. The queen sent for them. ' Gentlemen,' she said, ' 1 beg of you, for the love of God, that you will not think of quitting this town, for you well know, if you do, that my lord the king and his whole army will be ruined. At least, if such be your fixed determination, have pity on this wretched person who now lies in pain, and wait until she be recov- ered, before you put it in execution.' " - To carry her solicitations into effect, the queen was obliged to purchase provisions to feed these wretched mariners, who complained that they must otherwise perish by hunger ; and the sum so expended amounted to two hundred and sixty thousand livres, the difficulty of find- ing which was an augmentation of her distress. In this manner, after sufTering repeated hardships, Louis, his queen, and his lords, were at length permit- ted to embark for Acre, at the head of the remnant of his army. When he had thus arrived on ground where he might consider himself as perfectly free, King Louis again became inspired with the rash Quixotry of persisting in his crusade. The Christians, or Latins, of Syria, found it their interest to foster this enthusiasm, by holding out remote and fanciful prospects of his receiving assistance. Louis was amused with wild stories of the Sheik, or Cliief, of the Assassins, who 'was supposed peculiarly it of his son's finally accepting a donation which he could not have the means of supporting. At length the Pope resolved to name as monarch of the Two Sicilies, and nominal King of Jerusalem, Charles, Count of Anjou, the brother of Saint Louis, a man of a b(jld, and even ferocious character, one who would act with sufficient vigour, and without embarrassing himself with any scruples, in defence of the right assigned him by the Pope. Saint Louis acquiesced in the nomination of his brother, though he had declined to profit by the ^rant to his sons. And although his royal brother was rather passive than active in his favour, the Count of Anjou was able to assemble an army competent to lliC eniei-prise. He marched into the Neapolitan territory, and engaged Manfroy in a pitched battle, fought near Peneventum, in which the latter lost his kingdom and iiis lil'e. A competitor for the kingdoms of the Sicilies now arose to reclaim the crown usurped by Manfroy. This was Conradin, nephew of the Emperor Frederick, and 10 PEACE CONCLUDED WITH THE SULTAN. ivhose legal right of succession had been usurped b)' the late possessor. This young prince had lillle difficulty in assembling a strong paily, consisting of tlie friends -of the imperial faction, wjiich in the beginning threatened to ex- tinguish the rising power of Charles of Anjou. The val- our, or the fortune, of the French prince was, however, predominant once more. Conradin was defeated by Charles in a great' battle, made prisoner, and, by an act of great injustice and cruelty, tried, and put to death upon a scaffold, for tlie prosecution of a claim of succession to which he was alike called by justice and by nature. (A. D. 1270.) When, therefore, the rash expedition of Louis against Tunis took place, Charles, now King of Sicily, was eager in encouraging his brother to a war in which he thought less of the conquest of the Holy Land, than of subjecting Tunis to European dependence and making it an appanage of his own kingdom of the Two Sicilies. When the eighth crusade had nearly come to a melan- choly termination, by the death of Louis and his two sons, Charles, King of the Sicilies, appeared before Tunis with a fleet loaded with provisions and re-enforce- ments. As the fresh troops advanced to sujiport the siege, the Arabs checked their ap|)roach by putting in motion the sands of the desert, which, driven by a vio- lent wind upon the strangers, prevented their attempts to march up to the attack of the place. Upon a second occasion of the same kind, however, the natives were leNS successful, being drawn into an ambuscade, where they suffered severely by the swords of the Europeans. The sultan began now to propose terms of submission, agreeing to pay a ransom to the King of the Sicilies of forty thousand crowns a-year — to defray the expense of the war — to allow the preaciiing of Christian priests, and the exercise of the Christian religion in his dominions, with some other concessions, which, excepting the pay- ment of the money, were-rathcr nominal than real. Not- vvitlistanding these favourable conditions, the French antl Cicilian monarchs were blamed by the voice of Christen- PHILIP, THE HARDY. 11 doin — Philip for impatience, and Charles for covetous- ness. Of all the ])riiices in the ciusade, Edward cf England alone, afterwards the First of that name, and one of the most politic princes who ever lived, refused as far as he was concerned, to consent to this treaty. He also professed his determination to proceed to Palestine, where Acre, tlie last of the fortresses which owned the Chiistian authority, was on the j)()int of surrender to the infiiiels. " 1 will enter Acre," said young Edward, striking his breast, " though only Fouin, my groom, s!)ould follow me I" He went forward accordingly with his little band of English ; but the feats which he per- formed were of small note, considering the personal qual- ities of the prince, and his expedition is chiefly famed for the romantic courage of his princess Eleanor, who attended him. This faithful and courageous lady is said to have sucked the wound which her husband received from an envenomed weapon, and to have thus endangered her own life to save his. After the treaty of Tunis had been concluded, the kings of France and Sicily returned to their dominions — Philip eager to take possession of the crow'n which had fallen to him by inheritance, Charles desirous to secure and to enjoy that which he had obtain- ed by conquest. Pliilip, the third of that name, called the Hardy, seems to have been disposed to distinguish himself by enforcing the wise laws of King Louis, his father, for preventing private wars among his vassals. He had soon an opportunity to show this disposition, in pacifying a feud between the Count of Foix and the Lord of Cas- saubon. — The latter had been assaulted by the powerful Count, notwithstanding lie resided in the castle assigned him by the sovereign for his abode, and was under his express j)rotection. The king, at the head of his royal forces, besieged the castle of Foix, compelled the conn, to surrender, detained him a certain time in prison, and only dismissed him upon complete submission. The vigour of the government upon this occasion shows the permanent result of the just and firrn conduct of SairU 12 DEATH OF Philip's wife, Louis. But the king's most remarkable adjentures occurred in his own family, and were of a very distressing nature. In his return through Italy, King Philip had the mis- fortune to lose liis beautiful wife, Isabel, who had not hes- itated to follow him to the melancholy crusade in which the royal family sustained so much loss. In the course of this journey, this lady, being then near her confine- ment, was thrown from her horse in crossing a river, and died in consequence. Isabel, thus untimely cut off, left four sons ; Louis, who died by poison ; Phili|), whc reigned after his father ; Charles of Valois, father of the branch from whom sprung the French kings of that house ; and Robert, who died young. After the king's return to France, the council remon- strated with him on the inexpediency of his remaining single, and he was induced to marry, as his second wife, Mary the daughter of Henry, tlie sixth Dui HIS SKCONt) aiARRIAGE. !3 the rank of royal chamberlain, and employed hirn in the admiiiislration of some important affairs. He is said, as often happens with upstart favourites, to have ahused the king's kindness, and betrayed his trust, using his favour as tlie means of unjust oppression. A natural dislike arose between the queen, wlio thought her husband trusted too much to this unworthy man, and the favourite, who foresaw his own ruin in the predominant influence of the young princess. La Brosse, having once enter- tained this jealousy of the queen, is said to have taken every opportunity to prejudice Philip against her, by in- timating, from time to time, that his consort was actuated by the general dislike against Philip's children by the former marriage, commonly imputed to stepmothers The favourite caused it to be insinuated, from various quarters, into tlie king's private ear, that his wife often complained of her misfortune in bearing children wIjo were destined to become the vassals of those of the first marriage, and that siie said their case was the harder, if, though born when their father was upon the throne, they must necessarily be postponed to tlie children who came into the world when Philip was only a prince. About this time, Louis, the king's eldest son by his first marriage. Prince and heir of France, was seized suddenly by a malignant fever, which hurried him to his grave. The fatal disorder was attended with violent de- rangement in his stomach, livid spots upon his pe'rson, and other symptoms, which the age ascribed to poison. — On these suspicious circumstances. La Brosse, who had the court filled with his relations and dependents, spread rumours tending to fix the crime upon Queen Mary, whom he had already loaded with calumnies to the same effect. The queen, on the contrary, accused La Brosse of having himself administered the poison to the young prince, with the purpose of cliarging it against her. The king, divided betwixt fondness for his wife, and habitual partiality for his favourite, did not well know, betwixt two averments both abhorrent to his inmgination. which there! was ground to believe. Perhaps, in so dark a 958 14 ' EXECUTION OF LA BROSSE. transaction, we may be justified in believing that no crime at all was cnnimilted, and that what were consider^ ed as marks of j)oison, were merely symptoms of a |)utrid fever. — Such, however, is seldom the opinion of the public in any age, who are peculiarly addicted to assign remaikable and nefarious causes for the death of great persons. The king, in his distress and perplexity, had recourse to a species of explanation suited only to an ig,norant age. — He despatched the Bishop of Bayeux, and the Abbe of St. Dennis, to visit a nun, or beguine, then at NivelleSj who was supposed to possess the gift of dis- covering by inspiration the most concealed transactions. The royal envoys were directed to consult, of course, with this great authority, and to learn from her the real particulars of the young prince's death. Her first con- fession, taken from her by the Bishop of Bayeux alone, seemed to criminate the queen. This was thought sus- picious, because the Bishop was a near connexion of La Brosse, and interested in deciding the dispute in his rela- tion's favour. — But whatever his secret bias was, the prelate refused to bring forward a charge founded on what f.he nun had told him in confession. The prophetess herself seemed equally unwilling to speak plain. To a second enquiry by the Abbot of St. Dennis, after that by the Bishop of Bayeux, she refused to answer ; and the matter seemed to go against the queen. But in this un- certainty Philip deputed the Bishop of Dol, and Arnolph de Vismale, a knight Templar, who were considered as impartial persons, to examine the nun a second time. To these she frankly declared, that the king ought not to give any credit to such accusations as might be brought against his wife, since they all arose out of calumny. At this time, John of Brabant came to the court of Prance, averring the innocence of his sister, Queen Mary, demanding that her honour should be fully cleared, and offering the combat to any who should impeach it. This accusation hastened La Brosse's ruin, The favourite was accus'''d of having corresponded vith the King of AFFAIRS OF SICILY. 16 CaSiile, with whom Philip of France was then at war, iiid, beir^g fo'-nd guilty of this crime, was sent to prison iiogrsced, and afterwards ignominiousl)^ executed. The Diike of Brabant had gained credit for the part lie had nitherto taken in his sister's favour ; but when the Frond) saw La Brosse executed without an open trial, and he- held the Duke of Brabant, and some lords of his party, attend upon the execution, with more personal feeling of vengeance than became their rank, the tide began to turn, and La Brosse was considered as having Allien a victim to the queen and her faction. Mary, however, long sur- vived her husband, and was treated with the greatest respect by the family of his former wife, several of whon) she beheld successively upon the throne. The affairs of England, and of Italy, were the next objects of importance during Philip the Hardy's reign. It was while this king filled the throne that the English began a SCOTTISH LEAGUE. '23 rlenced from the King of France, and to which he was personally so sensitive. Therefore the monarch, who exercised the same feudal tyranny towards others, his own dependents, could not with justice complain of simi- lar usage from his own lord paramount. To understand this, you must remember, that, by un- fairly availing himself of the trust reposed in him by the Scots, W'ho chose him to be umpire for deciding the suc- cession to their crown, Edward I. had assumed to himself, on very iniquitous grounds, the right and dignity of lord paran^ount of Scotland. Invested thus, though by no fair means, with the right of supremacy over that king- dom, Edward's next step was to summon John Baliol, the shadow whom he had set up as king, to attend and answer the complaints of the most insignificant persons who chose to bring an appeal from his decisions to the English courts of law in Westminster. Edward's object in this injurious conduct, was undoubtedly to mortify the pride of the Scots and of their King, and to seek an op- portunity of declaring, as he afterwards did, that the kingdom of Scotland was forfeited to himself. Now, this was exactly, though in a less flagrant degree, the conduct of the king of France towards Edward him- self, when he summoned him to attend before a court of French peers, and give satisfaction for a brawl which had taken place between a Gascon and a Norman vessel. It is no wonder, therefore, that Edward rather chose to stille the debate, by the surrender of the six forts in Guienne, than to fix the attention of the world upon the very dif- ferent manner in which he judged of such treatment, when applied to himself, compared with that in winch he chose to consider it, when used by him towards the King of Scotland. It is also worthy of observation, that although the Scot- tish historians, in their zeal for their national antiquity, have pretended that a league existed between a Scottish king, whom tljey call Achaius, and the Emperor Charle- magne, as early as the year 779, and even affirm that the emperor bestowed upon the northern pri ice a tr«iss«ire 24 CONFEDERACY OF CONTINENTAL of neurs-cle-lis, as an augmentation of arms, i: is yet easy to tlenionstrate tliat there were no armorial beari-ngs till many centuries after Charlemagne, and that the intiniatfi league between France and Scotland did not exist, until th.e circumstances of both countries recommended mu- tual supijort and good understanding betwixt them, as a matter alike politic aiid necessary. We shall hereafter see that the Scottish alliance was of considerably more importance to France, than that of France was to Scot- land, it was certainly renewed during the reign of Philip tlie Fair. To return to tlie general subject. Edward I. was in- duced to trust to some future favourable oj)portunity the prosecution of his revenge against France, into which he did not think it politic, or find it possible, to lead a large army, while embarrassed with the Scottish campaigns. In the month of August, 1297, however, it seemed tc liim that Scotland was so effectually pacified, as to per- mit a great effort for the chastisement of France. For this object, Edward trusted less to his own forces, though lie transported to Flanders a gallant army of English, than to a general confederacy which he formed with sev- eral princes, on the same plan with the alliance so ab- rupdy dissolved by Philip Augustus at the battle of Bou- vines. The allies, too, were nearly the same persons, being the Emperor of Germany, the Dukes of Austria and Rrabant, the Earl of Flanders, and other German and Flemish princes, who engaged, for considerable sums of money to be paid by the King of England, to assemble a combined army for the invasion of France. Philip, who beheld himself threatened by a formidable confederacy, contrived to break up tiie alliance by the I'HStribution of large sums among its members. Against Guy de la Dam|)ierre alone, the aged Earl of Flanders, tlial kiiig retained an embittered and vindictive spirit, and when the other princes had, in a great mearsure, been in- duced to abandon the confederacy by intrigues and gratu- ities, Philip moved against that prince with a predominant forcR. At the same time, he put in motion the numerous PRINCES AGAINST PHILIP. Xt Aialecontents wlioiii lie bad found in the great towns of Flanders, the inhabitants of which were extremely niu- tinoLis, and disposed to insurrection. By the accumulated wei:.5ht of foreign invasion and (Jomestic insui-rection, the earl was likely to be totally ruined, had not Kdwaid of England moved to his assistance with a fleet and army, ;uid saved him from the revenge of France. No battle of consequence, however, ensued. Edward was disgusted with the great expense which he had be- stowed, to no purpose, upon his German confederates ; and Philip, who had encountered more difficulties than he had expected in liis campaign in Flanders, was also desirous of acconnnodation. A nuitual iViend to both nionarchs offered his services as mediator. This was Charles, King of Sicily, called Charles the Ijame. He was cousin german to tlie' King of France, being son of his uncle, Charles of Anjou. To Edward he was bound by an important obligation, Cluuies had been taken, as we have said, by Andrew Doria, in a naval engagement, in which the Arragon party were victorious. The victors manifested a strong inclination to put the captive prince to death, in their desire to revenge tiie execution of Con- rade II. by his father. But Edward 1. who entertained a persona] friendship for this pi'ince, prevailed upon his captors to ransom him, and furnished tlie greater part of the money which was demanded upon the occasion. Thus was Charles the Lame well suited for a mediator between France and England, in which he made considerable progress, al- thougii the office was afterwards transferred to the reign- ing Pope, whose feelings towards France were not of the most amicable character. Boniface was at this time at the head of the church, and he had. some considerable time before, entered into a ouarrel with Philip the Fair, respecting various extrav- agant claims vvhich the Pope had preferred over the French kir.g and his territories. Tiic particulars of this feud between the most Chris- 26 PEACE WITH ENGLAND. tian King and the Cluircli, is too long and too confused to be entered into in this place ; but it terminated in an unusual manner, considering how successful the Churcii had hitherto been in its irio«t extravagant demands. The Pope was admitted as mediator, instead of the King of Sicily, and discharged his duty as umpire with considera- ble fairness. Notwithstanding whicl), the two kings tooli the wise resolution of settling their ditlerences by a lie- finiiive treaty; because, from the grasping temper of Boni- face, he was the object of suspicion to them both. Mat- ters were accordingly brought to a settlement. (A. D. 1.307.) Edward made his homage for Gascony, and France and England entered into a mutual alliance against atiy one who sliould disturb the one king or the other in their rights, franchises and freedoms, by which agreement, the jirobabiiity of a quarrel with their mediator the Pope was intimated. Jioniface resumed his attacks against Philip. He at- tempted to fix upon him a certain Pernard Laiseli, for whom, without the king's consent, he had created a bish- opric. He sent this man to Philip in the character of a legate, who, in requital, turned him out of his domin- ions. The Pope next convened a council at Rome, at which several of the French clergy attended. Matters were thus brought to extremity. In a word, Boniface had already made jiublic his determination to excommu- nicate the King of France, and indeed the bull was ready prepared for that purpose. Among other extreme meas- ures to avert this sentence, Philip sent into Italy two determined agents, who, having levied a strong body of partisans, seized upon the person of the Pope, then residing at his native town in Tuscany, insulted, even buffeted him, and had very near slain him, liad not his Holiness, after two or three days' confinement, been reS' rued by a party of the people, and conveyed in safety to Rome. Here the disgrace which he had undergone had such an effect upon his spirits, that he died furiously mad, after having failed in extending the authority of the Church, in POPE BONIFACE. 2*? tlie way he meditated, and after having been obliged ta submit to the encroachments, as he termed tliem, of the secular j)o\ver. Tims died a Pontiff, of uhoni it is said, that he entered the clinrch Hke a fox, ruled it I'ke a lion, dud died like a dog. King Philip the Fair, after having been thus freed of his bitter op|)onent, Pope Boniface took especial care to esiablisli a close and powerful interest with the two suc- ceeding popes, and endeavouied, indeed, by every means in his power, to cultivate the favour of the papal see, and even to prevail on these supreme Pontitls to shift theii residence from Italy to France, in which he so far prevailed, as to induce them to reside at Avignon. In this manner did Philip obtain absolution from the sentence of excommunication pronoimced by Boniface, and re- establish a friendly intercourse with the head of the church. This king was also engaged in a violent contest with the peoi)le of Flanders, which fief he was bent upon re- uniting with the French empire. This was partly owing to his unabated hatred to his old vassal in that fief, Pierre de la Dampierrs, whom he })ressed so hard, that the count was under the necessity of submitting to his mercy. I>at although the French ,<:ained great successes, and obtained possession of many towns in Flanders, they did not fail to drive the Flemings, as they had done the Si- cilians, into rebellion against their new rulers, and great part of that populous nation, although at first favourable to the invaders, was soon in insurrection against them. — ■ Three sons of Count Pierre de la Dampierre put them- selves at the head of the insurL''ents. They fought a great battle with the French, in which the I'lemings were in the beginning successful. King Philip escaped with dif- ficulty from the fury of the first attack, in which the ene- my penetrated to his tent; but the fidelity of the French chiva ry, who rallied at the cry of the king being in dan- ger, lestored t'.e battle, and the Flemings were finally defeated with prodigious slaughter. Notwithstanding the br'lliancy of this victory, Philip was only disposed to re 28 DISSOLLTTION OF THE ORDER pjard It as a foundation for peace. The young princes of Flanders were still at the head of a nun)erouSj -though undisciplined army, and it might have been hazardous to drive to desperation so formidable an enemy. Tlie eldesi of the sons of Count Pierre was then admitted to do homage for the county of Inlanders, and, on condition of paying a considerable sum, estabHshed his peace with the king. In 1310, there occurred an important historical trans- action, respecting which it is difficult to form a candid judgment. 1 have told you that there existed two great fraternities of military monks, both of wdiich were form- ed in the Holy Lan(i. Tiie one had for its object the defence of the Tem])le ; the other was associated as Knights Hos[)iiallers, or Knigiils of St. John ; and both held out as their principal object the defence of Palestine ngainst the infidels, IJoth these communities, but in a particular degree the Tem))lars, fell under [)ublic obloquy, on account of the immense wealth which was acquired by the order, and the lax morals of individual members. To drink like a Templar, became a common phrase ; and their public licentiousness, as well as the charges imputed to them of considering less the benefit of Christians in general, and the defence of Palestine and of Jerusalem, than the aggrandizement of their own institution, were the general sulyects of clamour against them. The associa- tion of the Temple, however, was destined to fall under darker and blacker accusations than affected the morals of individual knights, or the ambition of the order in general. While these knights were the universal object of envy to the nobles, on account of their wealth, and odium to the poor, on account of their license, a singular incident orouglit their fate to a crisis. Two brcthrer. of the oi'der of the Tem]>le had been condemned by their Grand j\las- cer, or President, to perpetual impi'isonment. These criminals, desperate at this rigorous sentence, intimated, that if released from imprisonment, they could disclose to the French government circumstances concerning their OF KNIGHTS OF THE TEMPPfc. 29 order ol a mysterious and highly criminal nature, l^hese inen being examined accordingly, declared, before per- sons authorized to take their evitlence, that the secret rules of the order of the Temple were entirely contrary lo the Christian religion, as well as to decency and mo- rality. This extraordinary accusation bore that the Tem- plars commenced their initiation by the most blaspliemous and disgusting professions, and by ceremonies so infamous in character, that human nature cannot readily allow ihe possibility of their being adopted by an association con sisting of men of rank, engaged ostensibly in a religious fraternity. One hundred and forty knights were arrested at once within the kingdom of France, and great part of them seem to have confessed chai'ges similar to those averred by the knights who lodged the original accusa- tion. To these confessions, considering when and how they were obtained, we can attach little credit, as we know that .solitude and torture have made accused indi- viduals confess (as in charges of witchcraft) things not only improbable, but altogether impossible. But besides the above consideration, a very considera- ble number of those imprisoned Templars averred th.eir iimocence firmly. They said, that their confessing breth- ren had been seduced to their admissions by the promise of life aiuj liberty ; and they themseives denied strongly whatever charges were brought against them of an atro- cious character. " W'e are but men," they said, " and have our failings as such ; but, to be guilty of the wick- edness imputed to us, we must be incarnate fiends." The Pope himself held a coimcil on this very dubi- ous affair, in which the dissolution of the order was finally resolved upon all over Europe, although it was only in France that the Templars sufTered condemnation ano punishinent. Fifty or sixty of them were put to death, maintaining their innocence with their last breath, and citing their persecutors to answer before God for the cru- eities unjustly exercised upon them. Jaques de Molai, Grand Master of the order, with two of its other principal 957 30 PHILIP THE FAIR, UNPOPULAR. officers, were bro-ight before the King of France and the Pope, and examined on the several points- of the charge. At fust, they admitted some part of the accu- sation against them, and denied others ; upon which par- tial confession they were condemned to be burnt to death by a slow fire. VVheii brought to execution, after re- iractitig what they had formerly uttered, they declared, like the rest who were executed, that they had individ- ually committed sins incident to mortals, but that their order had never been stained by any such iniquities as liad been alleged against them. Indeed, when we consider the whole of this extraordi- nary charge, and recollect that the Templars, as an order, were extremely rich, that they had fallen into public odi- um, and had shown themselves unequal to the defence of the Temple, for which purpose they were associated, it may be suspected that we see, in these circumstances alone, the grand causes of their destruction, and that tlie other gross accusations preferred against them, if not en- tirely fiilse, were at least framed upon the crimes of some individuals only. The procedure against this celebrated society, added considerably to the odium with which the latter days of Philip the Fair w^re overclouded. His Flemish wars had exhausted his revenues, and vexed his people with extraordinary impositions. His dissensions vvitli Pope Boniface, the violence which he authorized towards that Pope, above all the exactions which he made upon the cler(i;y, caused him to be held in horror by all strict Catholics. — The ruin of the Templars was imputed to his avarice and injustice. While he was thus loaded with unpojii'larity from different causes, a domestic affront seem', to have affected him deeply. Philip's three sons were all married to princesses of suitable birth ; but the morals of the whole were so doubtful, tliat each of the three princes accused his wife of adultery, Joan, wife of Philip, Count of Poitou,the second of the royal brethren, was the only one of the fiiree princesses acquitted of the charge. iVlargaret, wife DEATH OF PHILIP THE FAIR. ?\ of Louis the eldest, and Blanche, wedded to the young- est, of the sons of Plil''p, were found guilty, and con- demned to perpetual confinement in the fortress of Chaslel GaiUard. — Two kniglits, the partners of their criu"!es, were put to clea'J) with horrible tortures. Tliis shameful incident, and the disgrace which attend- ed it, sunk deep into the heart of Philip tlie Fair. The king, at the same time, saw that the public dissatisfaction would render it difficuh, or impossible, to raise funds for reviving the war m Flanders, upon which he was de- termined, assigning for a reason, that he had never receiv- ed the money which the young count engaged to pay on the conclusion of the former peace. The count, on the contrary, alleged he had paid the subsidies regularly to the king's favourite courtier, naaied Enguerraud de Mar- rigny. The terrors, therefore, of a war for which no funds could be provided, and which was particularly un- popular in France, added to the king's embarrassment. His spirit sunk beneath such a load of evils and disgrace ; he took to bed without any formal complaint, and died of the cruel disease which carried off some of his prede- cessors, viz. a deep melancholy. On his death-bed, the dying monarch expressed great apprehension lest the imposts which he had laid upon his people should be the cause of his suffering punishment in the next world, and conjured his children to diminish or discharge them — a late act of penitence, to which much credit is not rashly to be given. Philip the Fair left behind three sons, Louis, Philip, and Charles, each of whom mounted the throne in their turn, but all died without issue. Of two daughters of the same king, one died unmarried, the other, Isabel, was wedded to Edwai'd, Prince of Wales, son to Edward I., who afterwards reigned as Edward IL It was upon the extinction of the male Heirs of Philip the Fair, that the kings of England laid claim to the inheritance of France, in contradiction to the Salic law, and in right of this same Isabel's succession to her father. Louis X whom, for some uncertain reason, the French .>^ LOUIS HUT.'^ - called Hutin, (or the Mutinous,) next ascended the throne. The first point he had to consider was tlie bringing to ac- count the favourite of the deceased monarch, Enguerraud de Marrigny, who had been tlie agent of Philip's exac- tions, and was supposed to have peculated enormously, 35 the money passed through his hands. Called before the princes of the blood, and closely interrogated by the brotlier of the late king, Ciiarles, Count of Valois, m particular, 'vho, in fact, governed in the name of ln& nephew, the accused party answered with great insolence. '•' Where,' said the Count de Valois, " are the trea- sures of the late king ?" " You shall have a good account of them," answered the prisoner, haughtily. " Give it me, then, on the spot," answered the prince. " Since you press me to speak," replied Marrigny, " I have given you one half of the treasure of the late king; your brother, and with the other half, 1 have paid his aiajesty's debts." " You lie,*' replied the prince, in a rage. " You lie, yourself," replied Marrigny. In consequence of this intemperate and insulting con- duct, the fallen favourite was arrested, thrown into prison, and brought to trial, when he was charged with embezzle- ment of the royal revenue, and with the abuse of his late master's favour. The new king was present at this trial, and looked on the accused with more compassion than his uncle and brothers showed towards him. — As the princes of the blood perceived the king's intention to screen Marrigny, at least from a capital sentence, they mixed up with the other crimes of which he was accus- ed, a charge that his wife had trafficked with a sorcerer, and an old woman, deemed a witch, for the purpose of mgking waxen images resembling the king and princes, which, being dissolved at a slow fire, the strength and substance of those they represented were expected to de- cay in proportion. The king, believing in a practice which was at that time an object of general credulity, LOUIS rutin's marriage. 33 was startled at the accusation, gave up Marrigny to tl]e vengeance ol* Iiis uncle the Count de \alois, and the un- fortunate favourite was hanged accordingly. The sorcerer and the witch were also put to death, and the wife of iMarrigny was conder^i ^ed to perpetual nn- prisonment. It was much doubted whether tlia crimes of Marrigny deserved quite so severe a fate ; and it is certain tiial the aggravation which induced llie king to consent to his death, was entirely visionary Charles, Comit of Valois, himself repented of the persevering cruelty with which he liad pressed the con- viction of this person ; and wiien he was struck with a fit of the palsy, imputed tb,e infliction to the vengeance ot Heaven for Marrigny's death. On his death-bed, he be- queatlied considerable sums to purchase the prayers of the church for the pardon of JMarrigny's sins, as well as his own. In the meantime, Louis Hutin arranged a marriage for hiroself with dementia, or Clemence, daugiiter of Charles Martel, King of Hungary, w-hoin lie selected, to replace the criminal and unfortunate Margaret, imprisoned in Chaste! Gaillard, as w-e have already seen. The exist- ence of tiiis hist unfortunate lady was, however, still an obstacle to her husband's contracting a second union. — I.iOuis Hutin removed it by an act of violence.' The un- fortunate Margaret was sii'angled with the sheets of jier bed, that her husljand might be at liberty to wed Clem- ence of Hungary, a match which took [)lace immerliately on her execution, or murdei-, (A. D. 1315.) — for'so a vengeance so long deferred, might be most justl)" termed. Tiio king and qncen were crowned at Rheims, when it was with difFicuIty that, by the assistance of the wealth found in the collers of Marrigny, and confiscated to the stale, tlie necessary expenses of the coronation were defrayed. T!ie new-married couple had not passed many months logeilier, when they were disturbed by the voice of war. The same Count Robert of Flanders, who had been so 34 L»EATn OF LOUIS HUTIN. troublesome to Philip the Fair, was still in insurrection, and it was necessary to go to war with him, alihauuii the public finances were in bad order, and totally inadequate to the services of the slate. The kint^ also felt all those inconveniences which crowd upon a sovereiij;n when his exchequer is exhausted. VV.!ic]i he demanded supplies, his subjects took the opportunity of insistini; upon their privileijes, real and prelendeii. The young king was much embarrassed, but he was not destined long to remain so. He died in 1316, (A. D.) the year after his mar- riage, and the first of his reign. Tlie fate of the king- dom remained suspended until time should show whether a son or a daughter should be the produce of the confine- ment of Clementia, his queen, which event was expected m four months after tiie death of Louis. Philip of Poitou, the second brother of the deceased monarch, was unquestionably entitled to be declared re- gent, being, in fact, the next heir to the crown, if the queen should not be delivered of a surviving son. Nev- ertheless, Charles of Valois, uncle to Louis Hutin, made an attempt to supersede his nejihew, but the Parliament afljudged the regency to Philip, who came speedily to Paris, and assumed the office of guardian of the young prince and regent of the kingdom, while awaiting the event of the queen's confinement. This took place November 14, 1316, (A. D.,) when Clemence was delivered of a boy, who did not survive above eight days, injured, as .was thought, by the excess of his mother's sorrow for tlie husband of whom she hud been so suddenly and prematurely deprived. Philip, the hrolher of Louis Hiuin, therefore, was trans- formed from regent into kinix, and was consecrated the twelfth day after his nephew's death. It was not, how- ever, without opposition, of which it is necessary to ex- plain the cause, as it concerns a remarkable point of French history. You cannot have forgotten that the tribes, of which the Frank, or French nation, consisted, had their principal lerritories upon the Rliine and the Saale. From *he lat- THE SALIC LAW. B5 ter tribe, comes the term of the Salic law, an enactment i.urrent amonii; tlie early tribes who dwelt on that river. — However entensive in its original sense, the Salic law has long denoted that rule of inlieritance which excludes a fenmle, or any other person whose connexion with the blood royal cannot be traced without the intervention of a female link, from the possiblity of succeeding to the crown of France, 'n any case. This law is understood to have ap])lied to the Merovingian and Carlovingian, and Cape- tian dynasties. The dignity of king, said the French jurists, with all the assumption of masculine arrogance, Was of too much dignity to ^ass either to, by, or through, the distaff. The exclusion, whether reasonable or other- wise, was strictly observed in the early ages of the mou» irchy. From the accession of Hugo Capet, in 9S7, to the death of the infant and posthumous son of Louis Hutin, in 1316 the crown had regularly descended from father to son ; thirteen generations having successively possessed it du- ring the space of three hundred and twenty-nine years, without a single instance of collateral succession. The Salic law, therefore, had, during this long period, remain- ed, as it is termed, in abeyance, there having occurred no opportunity of putting it in force. It seems, therefore, to have been partly forgotten, since the Duke of Burgundy, and the Count of Valois, with a considerable party, were disposed to dispute the claim which Philip V., called, from his statue, the Long, made to the crown. These princes contended, that, since the late king, Louis Hutin, had left behind him a daughter, Joan, she must be con- sidered as the heir of her short-lived brother ; an axiom which, if allowed, closed the succession against Philip the Long. . This important matter was referred to the States-Gen- eral, who, having maturely considered so important a question, finally decreed, that the Salic law and custom, inviolably observed in the French nation, excluded fe- males from the throne ; and the right of Philip was uni- versally acknowledged accordingly, in preference to thai 36 THE PASTORACX. of the Princess Joan. The new sovereign extended his influence among the nobility, by bestowing among them, in marriage, four daughteis, to whom he gave consider- able appanages, and thereby attached them to his interest. One of the persons whose friendship he ac- quired in this manner, was Louis of Flanders, whose family had given so much trouble to Philip the Fair, and had threatened the short reign of Louis Hutin. This might be accounted a considei-able stroke of state policy, as the young Louis was next heir to the reign- ing count, his grandfather, who was an aged man. Philip the Long also renewed the league with Scotland, and transacted his affairs upon equal terms with Ed- ward II. of England, who was his brother-in-law. But, though prudent and politic upon the whole, King Philip the Long, in one particular, gave great dissatis- faction to his people, viz., in the eagerness which he showed to collect large sums of revenue, and his haste to restore the obnoxious imposts which had been discon- tinued by his predecessor. It must be allowed that this was neither from a disposition to extravagance nor to avarice, either of which it might be supposed to have indicated. But, like his great ancestor, Saint Louis, Philip the Long unhappily conceived himself bound to undertake a crusade so soon as ever opportunity should permit ; and it was with this view that he made a great collection of treasure, in the hope of removing some of the obstacles which had proved so fatal to his ancestors, who meditated the same project. A wild inclination towards these perilous expeditions seemed at this time to pervade all Europe. The common people of France, in particular, were stirred up by igno- rant friars and enthusiasts, who pretended to have discov- ered by inspiration that it was the divine will to rescue Palestine from the infidels, not by means of the great and powerful of the world, but by shepherds and peasants. — • This doctrine becoming general, bands of the most low and ignorant persons enrolled themselves under various leaders, and traversed the country under the nanne of HAIRED TOWARDS THE JEWS. 37 Pastoraux. They were not long tlius embodied withou* discoverinLj tiiere was business to do in bebalf of Chris- tianity, without going" so far as the Holy Land. The Jews, wlio had been persecuted and banished from France by Phihj) the Fair, and restored by his successor, as necessary to the existence of the state, once again be- came the objects of popular hatred, not only on account of their religion, and because their wealth rendered then.i the ready oiijects of plunder, but also from a new accu- sation, wliich so ignorant an age alone would have listen- ed to. A pestilential or epidemn, disease was at this time scourging France, where bad bving and dearth of provis- ions rendered such infectious disorders very fatal. To account for the present pestilence, it was said that the Jews had accepted a bribe from the IMahometan princes, and had undertaken to poison all wells, fountains, and rivers. The charge of participation in this crime was ex- tended to a set of unfortunate wretches, who were rather the objects of disgust than of compassion. Those afflict- ed with the leprosy, who were obliged to live in hospitals apart from the rest of mankind, were stated to have join- ed with the Jews in the iniquitous project of poisoning the waters of the kingdom. It was an accusation easily understood, and greedily swallowed, by the vulgar. The populace of course, being already in arms, turned them against the Jews and the lepers, considering both as a • species of wretched outcasts, whose sufferings ought to interest no healtliy Christian. Without any formality, or trial, or otherwise, these ignorant fanatics seized upon great nund)ers both of the Jews and of the lepers, and tore them to pieces, or burnt then) alive without scruple. T!ie Jews, though of late years they may be consider- ed as an unwarlike people, have always been remarkable lor the obstinacy of their temper, and for their opposing to popular fury a power of endurance which has often struck even their oppressors with horror. Five hundred of these men, u[)on the present occasion, defended a cas- 38 DEATH OF PHILIP THE LONG. tie into which they had thrown themselves, with stonejj, arrows, javehns, and other missiles, till, having no- other weapons left, they launched the persons of tlieir living children from the walls on the heads of their assailants, and finally put each other to the sword, rather than die by the hands of the multitude. At Vitri, also, fifty Jews distinguished themselves by a similar act of horrible despair. They chose with com- posure two of their number, a young woman and an old man, who received the charge to put the rest of their company to death. Those intrusted with the execution of this fearful duty, executed their instructions without dispute or resistance on the part of the sufferers. When the others were all slain, the old man next received his death at the hand of the female, and to close the tragedy, this last either fell or threw herself from the walls of the place ; but having broken her thigh bone in the fall, she was plunged by the besiegers alive into the fire which consumed the dead bodies. The king himself was obliged to submit to the popular prejudice. He once more banished the Jews, and by a proclamation confined the lepers to their respective lios- pitals, under the penalty of being burnt alive. The royal troops were next em])loyed with success in putting down the Pastoraux, and other tumultuous assemblies of fanati- cal banditti, and restoring the peace oi the kingdom. Sliortly after. King Philip the Long died, after a reign of five years, in 1321, (A. D.) As was frequently the case on the demise of great persons in that age, his death was strongly suspected of being caused by poison. He was, upon the whole, a well-meaning king ; and the love of money which he had at first testified, was atoned for by an edict, near the close of his reign, dispensing with the imposts upon the people, and by a meritorious oltem[it to reduce the coins, and the weights and measures, through- out all F"'rance, to some uniform standard, a matter of groat importance to commercial intercourse. I^hilip llie fxjng was succeeded by his brother, Charles the Fair ; Ma21, A. D.) The Salic law having its full REIGN OF CH ARIES THE FAIR. 39 force in bis behalf as heir-mals, and Iiis rigbt I'eing wl flitted, to the exclusion of tbe daugbters of the deceaseU Philip tlie Long, and, in particular, liie Duchess of Bur- gundy, who was the eldest of tiiese princesses. Charles tlje Fair, being thus placed on tbe throne, became desir- ous to get rid of his wife Blanche, who remained still a prisoner, on accoant of ber infidelity. He did not on this occasion proceed to tbe extremities adopted by bis eldest brother, Louis Hulin, who, in sin> i!ar circumstances, bad the fi'ail and unfortunate Margaret strangled, but contented himself with obtaining a sentence of divorce from Rome, upon tlie old pretence that Blanche and be were related within tbe forbidden de- grees. The supposed connexion was even more flimsy than usual, being only of a spiritual natiu'e, the motlier of Blanche, having, it seems, been godmother to the king. It was better, however, to be divorced as tbe daughter of ber husband's godmother, than to be strangled with a pair of sheets. The discarded princess covered ber dis- grace by taking the veil in the Abbey of Alaubuisson. In room of this lady, Charles espoused Margaret, daughter of Henry of Luxembourg, seventh Emj)eror of Germany of that name. But no good fortune attended tbe marriages of this race ; Queen Margaret was killed by the overturn of ber chariot, an accident which proved fatal to ber and to an unborn male infant. As bis third wife, Charles tbe Fair married witb dispen- sation a cousin of his own, who survived him many years, but produced no family save daughters. Charles the Fair began bis reign by two remarkable punishments. Among tbe other chiefs of independent armed companies who were the pest of France, one Jourdain de Lisle was brought to bis deserved sentence, and capitally executed, although a nei)bew of the reisining Pope. Besides having committed mmxler, and ra|)inc of every description, not even sparing tbe churches, he had put to death a pursuivant of the king, baving the royal arms about bis neck, wbicb was considered as an act of hiffb-troajon. He dashed out the brains of this man with 40 AFFAIRS OF ENGLAND. his own mace, for daring to serve a royal writ upon hi'-o. All intercession was in vain employed for so notorious a miscreant, who incurred his deserved fate upon the gib- bet. The prosecution against Gerard de, la Guette was of a more ordinary character. He had been a low-born officer of finance, raised to the dignity of treasurer by- Philip the Long, and, as usual stood accused of having failed to render to the new king a fair account o( the sums intrusted to him by the old one. He was arrested, but escaped the fate of Marrigny by dying in prison. The afFaiis of England, which now became ratlier per- plexed, npx4 attracted Charles's anxious attention. There had been for a long lime a friendly understanding betwixt the courts of England and France ; but in 1322, (A. D.) some disturbances occurred in Guienne, which made Charles the Fair in more peremptory terms than usual demand that the King of England shcndd appear and render homage for the possessions he still occupied in France. This was an inconvenient summons to Edward IT., a weak and unfortunate prince, who, having been complete- ly defeated by the Scottish, had, moreover, been much thwarted by the English barons, who put to death Gavcs- ton, his favourite, and had reduced the king himself to a very low ebl). Latterly, having been successful against the insurgent barons, the king had selected for his minion Hugh Spencer, an ambitious and profligate young man, who now ruled the king with absolute sway. Isabella, the queen of Edward II., was, as a French princess, and sister of the reigning monarch of that country, judged the fittest agent to represent Edward at the court of France, since her husband himself was afraid to visit that kingdom, and his favourite Spencer was stjll more unwil- ling that his master should take such a journey. It is said, besides, that Edward, v;ho did not love his wife, was desirous to be rid of the restraint on his pleasures imposed by her presence in England. But he ana his advisers Aiiled to observe, that Isabella, finding herself exclude'! fioin her husband's affections, had contricti-'ri a DEATH OF CHARLES THE FAIR. 4' contempt for him which amounted to hatred. There Is also too iiuicli reason to believe that the same exasperated piiiicess had already become attached criminally to Roger Mortimer, afterwards well known as her paramour. He had escaped from tlie Tower of London some time before ; and, as he was now residing in France, it was intprudent, to say the least, to send the queen, wliere their corres- pondence might be easily renewed or continued. Edward, however, looking no farther than his imme- diate convenience, permitted, or rather enjoined, his wife to go to France, to negotiate between her brother and her husband. But the personal presence of Edward him- oelf was still required by the King of France, as a condi- tion of the restoration of Guienne. Again Isabella inter- posed her mediation, and procured the consent of the Fiench king, that if Edward, Prince of Wales, afterwards Edward ill., would perlbrni the homage, investiture of those territories should be granted to liim, without de- manding his father's personal presence. This was regu- larly transacted in the course of a few days. But tlie unfoitunate Edward II. was not aware that his queen had only gone abroad with the purpose of returning at the head of an army, by which he was afterwards dethroned, imprisoned, and murdered. Isabella had already commenced her intrigues to that effect, which did not escape the notice of the French court, it does not indeed appear that Charles the Fail connived at the conspiracy of his sister against her hus- band, though it is alleged that she received the advice of Robert of Artois, by which she left the court of Paris for that of iiainault, where she arranged a marriage ibr her son with Philijipa, the daughter of the count, and obtained the military supplies with which she afterwards invaded England. Charles the Fair was now beginning to feel the same infirm health which had carried off his brethren. He finally died at Bois de Vincennes, and the descendants of Huge Capet were extinct In the first line by the death of 4ii ACCESSION OF PHILIP. the last male heir of Philip the Fair. (A. D. 1327.) Jt was remarked, that at the death of the last-named jjiince, there existed three sons at man's estate, so that, according to all human pros])ects, the succession to the crown seemed amply provided for ; yet it pleased God in so short a space as lourteen years that they should all be carried off by death, without any of them leaving male issue. — The only chance of an heir-male of this branch coming into existence, was, that the Queen-dowager Jo- anna, third wife of Charles the Fair, might perhaps be delivered of a son. Her orphan, however, proved to be a daugliter, which, opening the succession to Philip of Valois, the next heir-male of the House of Capet, gave rise to the contlicling claims of the Kings of England and France, and to the dreadful war which ravaged the two ki/igdoiiiij, but especially tliat of France. EDWARD III. OF ENGLAND. 4«1 CHAPTER III. Homage paid hij Edward II f. to Philip of Fiantz tn the Cathedral of Jlntiens — Kdivard subdues Scotland, and resolves to assert his Claim (in right of his Mother) to the Crown of France, to which covrse he is incited by Robert of Jlrtois, the exiled Minister of Philip — Edward obtains the consent of his Parlia- ment for an Invasion oj France, and sets sail — J\''aval Engagement at the entrance of the Harbour of Slvyse, in which the English are victorious — Siege of Saint Omers — the Besiegers dispersed by a sally of the De- fenders — Siege of Pournay — a Truce for one year concluded, and Edivard returns to England — Pro- lonixation of the I'rucc — Dispute concerning the Svc- cession to the Dukedom e hopes which dictated these hasty movements. The advice of a veteran German warrior, sent to reconnoitre the English army, strongly recommended to King Philip to halt the advance of his own forces, and put off the battle till next morning. " The English," he said, " have reposed in a position which they have deliberately adopted, and doubtless will not shrink from, without a desperate defence. Your men are tired with their long morning's march from Abbeville, confused with the haste of their advance, and must meet at great disad"an- tage, a well-arranged enemy, refreshed by food and repose." The King of France listened to this experienced coun- sel, and expressed his desire to follow it, by halting im army for the day, and postponinsf the battle till the mor- row. But the evil fate of France had decreed that his i6 J-RKNCH FOnCES. purpose should not be carried into execution. The troops u ho formed the vanguard of the French host, halted in lieed at the word of command, but those who came be hind flurried onward, with the idle bravado that " they would make no stop till they were as far forward as the foremost." In this way they exhausted their spirits, ex- pended their strength, and confused their ranks, many brandishing their swords with idle exclamations of " At- tack, take, and slay !" before they were even in sight of the enemy. To stop men in this state of excitation was impossible. King Philip, thus hurried forward to battle by the want of discipline of his own troops, had divided his army into three bodies. The first was under the command of the King of Bohemia, seconded by Charles of Luxembourg, his son. Emperor-elect of Germany, and of Charles, Earl of Alen^on, the brother of King Philip, a brave, but fiery and rash young cavalier. The Genoese cross- bowmen, fifteen thousand in number, were all placed in this first division. The French accounted the.m a match for the English archers, and trusted that their superior discharge in the commencement of tlie action would clear the field of these formidable forces. They had also more than twenty-nine thousand men to support their bowmen. The second division was commanded by King Philip hiniself, with his broad banner displayed, surrounded by six thousand men-at-arms and forty thousand foot. The blind old King of Bohemia was afterwards posted into this second division, as well as James, the titular King of Majorca. Lastly, the rear division of the French was led by the Earl of Savoy, with five thousand lances and twenty thousand foot. These large bodies appear to have been unequally di- t'ided, probably owing to the state of confusion into whicn ihe French army was undoubtedly thrown by their toe liasty advance, which rendered it difficult to transmit auii execute orders. BATTLE OF CRESSY. 8"* On tlie approach of the Genoese towards the English position, these strangers, who formed the vanguard of the French army, gave signs of fatigue, from marching three long leagues with their weighty cross-bows. When the word was given to " begin the battle, in the name of God and St. Dennis," the Italians answered by remonstrances, saying, they had more occasion for rest than to fight that day. This moved the resentment of Alencon, the com- mander of the division, who said with contempt, " A man has much help from these fellows, who thus fail him at the pinch !" The order for attack was therefore repeat- ed, and obeyed. Some singular appearances in the atmosphere now seemed to announce the great and bloody conflict which was about to take place upon the earth. A heavy thun- der-cloud darkened the sun like an eclipse, and before the storm burst, a vast number of crows and ravens came driving before the tempest, and swept over both armies. A short, but severe thunder-storm, with much lightning and heavy rain, suspended for half an hour, the joining of the battle, until the weather became fair, and the sun began once more to shine out, darting his rays on the backs of the English, and in the eyes of the French. The Genoese, now approaching towards the Prince of Wales's division, made a great leap and cry, thinking to daunt the English by the symptoms of instant attack ; but King Edward's archers, who were drawn up with their ranks crossed after the fashion of a he.rse, or harrow, so tliat the shot of the one might support the others, (like that of the combined squares of musketry in mod ern warfare,) remained firm and steady. The Genoese, a second time advanced forward, leapt and cried without making more impression upon the English than before ; a tliird time they advanced, shouted and leapt, and then began to use their cross-bows. But the English, who seemed only to wait for the actual commencement of hos- tilities, stepped each of them one pace forward, and shot their arrows so closely together, that it seemed as if it snowed. The volleys of the Genoese bolts were re- 88 BATTLE OF ClltSSY. tui»ed with this incessant storm of arrows, and with so much interest; that the ItaHans became unable to keep iheir ground. Their strings also had been wetted by tiie late storm, while those of the English had been secured in cases which they carried for the purpose. Finally, tliere were eight or ten arrows returned, for every cross- bow shaft discharged. All these circumstances of advan- tage rendered tlie Genoese unable to withstand the English archers, so that that large body of Italians lost heart, and, cutting their strings, or throwing away their bows, (as an excuse for not continuing the conflict,) they rushed back in confusion upon the rest of the vanguard, and especially upon the men-at-arms, who were designed to have supported them. The confusion thus occasioned in the French army became inextricable, as the recoil of the cross-bowmen prevented the regular advance of the knights and squires, upon whom the ultimate fate of the day must necessarily depend, especially after the retreat of the Genoese. The King of France added to the confusion, by calling on the cavalry to advance to the charge, without any regard to the cross-bowmen, who, now a confused multitude of fugitives, lay straight in the way of their advance. " Slay me these peasants," said lie, "since thus they do but trouble us ;" and the French men-at-arms advanced at full gallop on the unfortunate Italians, many of whom were' thus trodden down and slain by their auxiliaries, while, at the same time, the ranks of the cavalry were disordered by riding over their own bowmen before they could leach the enemy. In the meantime, the English archers kept pouring their shafts, without an instant's intermission, as well upon the Genoese who fled, as the French men-at-arms who were endeavouring to advance, and augmented the dread- ful confusion which took place. Many of the bravest French knights lay stretched on the plain, who might have been made captive with ease ; but King Edward had strictly forbidden the taking of any prisoners during the action, lest the desire of securing them should be a temotation to his soldiers to quit their ranks. The groonjs, BATTLE OF CRESSY. 89 therefore, and mere camp-followers of the Eiigl'sb, b.gd the task of despatching the fallen with their knives ; ard by these ignoble hands much noble and knightly blood was shed. Yet, notwithstanding the loss attending this iiorrible confusion, the courage of Alen^on, and the native bravery of the French cavaliers, impelled tl)em still forward. A part of them extricated themselves at length from the unfortunate Genoese, and pushed on along the line of English archers, by which they suffered great loss, until at length they arrived on their right flai-pic, where the Prince of Wales was placed, at the head of his men-at- arms. By these, the French were so roughly encoun- tered, that the greater part of them were beaten down and slain. But this victory was hardly won, before three other squadrons of French and Germans rushed on with such fury in the same direction, that they burst an opening for themselves through the archers, who had but imper- fect means of repelling horse, and dashed furiously up to the place where llie gallant prince was stationed. The Earl of Warwick now became alarmed ; for he concluded that the standards of the French king and his numerous army were following close upon the new comers. In this belief Warwick and Chandos sent to King Edward, requesting succour for his valiant son, when the follow- ing dialogue took place between the king and the mes- sengers. " Is my son," said Edward, " dead, wounded, or felled to the ground ?" " Not so, thank God," answered the messengers : " but he needs assistance." '' Nay, then," said King Edward, " he has no aid from me ; let him bear himself like a man, and this day show himself worthy of the knightiiood conferred on him ; in this battle he must vv^in his own spurs." In the meantime, a strong detachment of men-at-armS; despatched by the Earls of Arundel and Northampton, the commanders of the second division, had relieved 90 BATTLE OF CRESSr. Prince Edward from his temporary embarrassment. And now the English archers opening in the centre, suffered their cavahy to Tush forward through the interval, and encountered the French men-at-arms, who were in total confusion. This was augmented by the fierce attack ol the English ; and the most experienced on the opposite side began to despair of the day. The King of France himself fought with the greatest valour ; was repeatedly wounded and dismounted, and would have died probably on the field, had not Lord John of Hainault led him off by force. Not more than sixty of his gallant army re- mained in attendance upon their sovereign, and with these he reached, after nightfall, the castle of Broye. When the warder demanded what or who he was, " 1 am," said the king, " the fortune of France ;" — a secret re- buke, perhaps, to those who termed him " the Happy," an epithet not very suitable to his present condition, and which his own example shows, is apt to prove inapplicable if conferred before death. The King of Majorca is generally said to have been among the fallen, and the slaughter among princes, counts, nobles, and men of rank, was without example. But the most remarkable death, among those of so many princes, was that of John, King of Bohemia, a monarch almost blind with age, and not very well qualified, therefore, to mix personally in the fight. When all seemed lost, the old man enquired after his son Charles, who was nowhere visible, having, in fact, been compelled to fly from the field. The father receiving no satisfaction concerning his son from the knights who attended on him, he said to them, " Sirs, ye are my knights and good liegemen, will ye conduct me so far forward into the battle, that I may strike one good stroke with my sword ?" To satisfy this wish, which his followers looked upon as the words of despair, four faithful knights agreed to share their master's death, rather than leave him to perish alone. The devoted attendants tied the old king's bridle reins to their own, and rushed with him into the middle of the fight, where, striking more good blov^e than *»ne, BATTLE OF CRESSY. 91 iliey were all slain, and found there the neKt day, as they bad fallen, with their horse's reins tied tof;ether. Thus ended this celebrated battle. There lay upon the field of Cressy two kings, eleven high princes, eiglity bannerets, one thousand two hundred kaights, and more than thirty thousand private soldiers. The meeting of Edward and his son took place by torchlight, after the battle was over. " Well have you won your spurs !" said the brave king ; " persevere in the career which you have opened, and you will become the brightest honour of the noble kingdom of which you are the worthy heir." The battle of Cressy was one of the greatest victories ever gained by a King of England, and Edward prepared to avail himself of it, in a manner which should produce some permanent advantage. 92 RESLfLT OF EDWARd's VICTORY. CHAPTER V. tldicard resolves to secure a permanent footing in France, by making himself Master of Calais — Siege of Calait, — War in Brctagne — Siege of Roche-d^Arien — Anx' iety of the tioo Monarchs, Edward and Philip, to obtain the Alliance of the Flemings — The People of Flanders favourable to Edward, and their Earl to Philip — Attempt of Philip to raise the siege of Calais — it fails, and the citizens a>-e compelled to treat for a Surrender — JVoble conduct of Eustace de Saint Pierre, and five other Burgesses, who, in order to save their Fellow Townsmen, deliver themselves up to Edward — they are ordered for Execution by him, but saved, by the intercession of his (^ueen, Philippa — Measures of Edward, for securing possession of Calais — Sir Em- eric of Pavia, Seneschal of the Castle of Calais for the English King, treats with Sir Geoffrey Charny to betray the place to the French for a sum of money — his Treachery discovered, whereupon he makes his peace with Edward, by undertaking to betray Sir Geoffrey ; and on that Knight coming to receive pos- session of ihe Castle, Sir Emeric takes payment of the money agreed upon, and delivers Sir_ Geoffrey to an Ambuscade of the English under Sir Walter Manny, by whom the French Party are defeated, and their Leader, Sir Geoffrey taken Prisoner — Edivard's treatment of the Prisoners — Pestilence rages in France and England — Submission of Godfrey of Ilarcourt to the French King — Death of Philip. The result which Edward promised liimself from his great victory, was, in fact, the opportunity of carrying into effectual execution the plan of Godfrey of Harcoiivt. by obtaining a firm footing in Normandy. Spoil and havoc had hitherto seemed his only object ; but it was his DEFKAT OF THE SCOITI&U KING 93 secret plan to attain some permanent possession in the province as near England as possible, so as to enable hini lo attempt future conquests in France. For this purpose, he resolved to avail himself of his victory, which he knew must long disable Philip from taking the field, to lay siege to Calais, a seaport rich and strongly fortified being immediately opposite to the coast of England, from whicli it is scarcely fourteen miles distant. It was clear tliat if the English should obtain possession of this phice. the flat and swampy country around Calais would pei-mit them easily to fortify it ; and its vicinity to England, and the superiority of her naval power, would always altbrd means of relieving it when besieged. King Edward, therefore, sat down before Calais with his large army, shortly after the battle of Cressy, and proceeded, by every means in his power, to hasten tlie siege. Philip of France, in the meantime, did all he could to obtain the means of recovering from the disaster of Cressy. He summoned from Gascony his son, the Duke of Normandy, who was engaged there with a considerable body of forces, partly in the siege of Aguillon, partly in making head against the Earl of Lancastei-, formei'ly Earl of Derby, who had found him employment for two cam- paigns. The retreat of the Duke of Normandy, in con- formity with tire orders of Philip, left the w'est of France much at the conmiand of this noble earl, wliose soldiers were so much sated with spoil, that they hardly valued the richest merchandise, but were only desirous of gold, silver, or such feathers as were then worn by soldiers in their helmets. While Philip, in this emergency of his bad fortune^ thus abandoned a part of his dominions to save the rest, he endeavoured, by every argument in his power, and narticularly by advancing large sums of money, to prevail upon the Scottish nation, and their king, David 11., to declare war against England, by which means he hoped ihat Edward might be disturbed in his siege of Calais. The Scottish king and nation did, accordingly, unfortu- natelv take arms, and began a war which was terminated 9Q1 94 SIEGE OF ROCHE-d'aRIEN, by the bailie of Neville's Cross, near Durbam, In which tJiey sustained a formidable defeat, and their king,, David, was made prisoner. (October 17, A. D. 1346.) The siege of Calais still continued, the French making many desperate attempts to relieve it, and particularly by sending in provisions by sea. The low and swampy sit- uation of llie grounds around the town exposed the be- siegers to great loss by sickness and disease ; and the garrison of Calais did not omit to make many sallies which v.'ere partially successful. RJeantime, the war in Bretagne still raged, betw.-xt the contending parties of Blois and De Monifort. A noble knigiit named Sir Thomas Dagworth, was created by Edward general of the English auxiliary forces in that province, and carried over considerable succours to the valiant Countess of JMontfort, who still maintained the war there m the name of her son. Sir Charles de Blois, who claimed this duchy by the decision of the King of France, assembled among his partisans in Bretagne a very considerable force, amounting to no less tlian sixteen hundred men-at-arms, with a pro porlional number of cross-bows and infantry, and some formidable military engines ; with this force he besieged a fortress, called Roche-d'Arien, which had lately been taken by the English. The captain of the garrison^ whose wife was at the time indisposed, was so alarmed at the effect of the engines, that he offered to deliver up the castle upon easy terms, which Sir Charles de Blois was unfortunate enough to refuse. In the meantime. Sir Thomas Dagworth formed the resolution of relieving the garrison of Roche-d'Arien. He united his own forces with those of the Countess of Montfort, who were com- manded by a good knight, called Tanguy de Chatel. In their first attempt on the French, who lay before Roche- d'Arien, the E':glish and Bretons were defeated ; but having, by the encouragement of Sir Thomas Dagworth «nd of a Breton knight, called Garnier de Cadoudel, re- solved to renew ihe enterprise, they made a second attack on the ensuing evening, when the victory of the French Philip's efforts to raise an army. 96 niignt be supposed to render them secure and unguarded. In this unexpected attempt their success was complete. The French were surprised and totally defeated, and their general, Charles de Blois, became prisoner to his female antagonist, Jane de Wontfort. A similar heroine arose, however, in the faniliy of Charles de Blois. His wife, a lady of a lofty spirit, un- dertook to maintain the war, which would otherwise have terminated on her husband's captivity. In the meantime, the two contending monarchs were not idle. King Philip, who had already held a parlia- ment, in which he preva'iled upon his peers and liege vassals to lend him their utmost assistance, was employed in levying a strong army, with which he proposed to compel Edward to raise the siege of Calais, (A. D. 1347.) He used his utmost efforts to recover from an- cient receivers and tax-gatherers the sums which they had not accounted for. Heavy assessments were also imposed as well upon the clergy as upon the laity, and great rigour was manifested in the mode of recovering pay- ment. Philip even demanded from the monks of St. Dennis a crucifix of massive gold, being a treasure be- stowed by the devotion of his predecessors. To this, how'ever, the monks replied, that " the crucifix could not be taken away, or converted to a secular use, without in- evitable danger to the souls of all parties concerned ;" with which answer, even in the urgency of his necessity, be was obliged to remain satisfied. The friendship of the Fletnings was of equal impor- tance to both kings at this momentous crisis ; in which country the affections of the prince and of the people remained divided as before. The free towns and their citizens were strongly inclined to England, and had set- tled that their young lord should wed the daughter of Edward HI., the beautiful Lady Isabel of England. But the young earl himself objected to this match, and was inclined to the alliance of France, the rather that his father, a fait.iful confederate and vassal of Philip of Va- lois, had fa.len in his quarrel at the battle of Cre'jsy 96 SIEGE or CALAIS. The rude Fleniinos, incensed to find their prince averse to the policy which they recomiuended, laid violent hands on his person, and assured him he shoald not obtain his liberty till he consented to ally himself with England, and marry the Princess Isabel. The young earl, finding himself so roughly handled by his siibjects, resolved tc dissemble his sentiments, and carried his acquiescence so far as to go to King Edward's camj) before Calais, with a party of Flemish citizens, wiio seemed to act as liis tutors, and whose will he in no shape contradicted. He was well received by Edward,, who even condescended to apologise for the death of his father, as an accident out of his power to prevent. Thus the young earl found himself in high favour with the English monarch, and paid his addresses to the Princess Isabel, with the same attention as if he had been serious in his courtship. In private, however, he meditated his flight, and being in- dulged with permission to follow the sport of hawking, he availed himself of an opportunity, while apparently engaged in it, to make his escape by the speed of his horse, and took refuge at the court of France, where his presence was cordially welcomed by King Philip. While these things were passing, the natives of Calais were reduced to the last extremity. They despatched a messenger by sea with letters to King Philip, saying, that his good people of Calais, having eaten their horses, dogs, and rats, had nothing left to subsist upon unless they fed upon each other ; wherefore they conjured their king to succour them, otherwise the town must be cer- tainly lost. The vessel bearing these letters was taken by the English, and King Edward forwarded the missives to the French king, after having perused their contents, and superscribed them with a taunting endorsation, ask- ing, " Why he came not to rescue his people of Calais, that were so distressed for his sake ?" Philip needed no incentive either from friend or enemy, having assembled an army of a hundred thousand men, with the sole pur pose of relieving Calais, On the other hard, King Edward, considering the ex SIEGE OF CALAIS. 97 treme importance of the place, and the trouble, expense, and loss, which it had cost hiin to bring it to its present reduced state, was determined that no effort of tlie King of France should avail for its relief. For this purpose ho strongly fortified the approaches to Calais on every point, so as to make it impossible for King Philip to draw near the place, or annoy the besiegers, either by an ad- vance along the sea-shore or by the high-road. These were the only two roads practicable to arn)ed forces, as all the rest of the grounds in the vicinity of Calais were swampy marshes, where troops could not act. Against the approach along the sea-shore Edward had placed his ships, well suppliel with artillery, and he had besides strongly fortified tho shore. Similar defences were constructed on the causeway, which approached the town by the bridge of Neuillet. When the King of France, therefore, with his immense host, approached the neighbourhood of Calais, he had the mortification to find that he could not, without the extremity of imprudence, attempt to enter the town either by the highway or by the shore, and to pass through the marshes was altogether impossible ; after displaying there- fore his great army at a place called Sangate, in sight of Calais and its besiegers, King Philip found himself en- tirely cut off from entering the place, and was compelled to withdraw without fighting. He endeavoured to rouse the pride of Edward by a letter, defying him to leave his fortifications, and fight in a fair field. Edward re- plied that " he took no counsel from an adversary ; that he had been before Calais for more than a year, and had reduced the place to a state of extremity ; that he would not quit the advantage which he had gained ; and if Philip wished a passage into the town, he might seek it as he best could, since he was to expect no assistance from bin]." The hopes of the people of Calais bad been at first strongly excited, when they beheld from their towers the nimifrous forces of France advancinji to their relief. 98 SIEGE OF CALAIS. 7.'he first day, therefore, tliey intimated their confidence of assistance by decorating tlieir walls with banners, and for the same purpose lighted large bonfires, and sounded all their martial instruments of music, attended with loud shouts. On the second night, the bonfires were fewer, and the shouts less cheerful, than before. On the third night, the towers showed a decaying fire — emblem of ex- piring hope — and the acclamations of mirth and joy were changed into screams and groans, which seemed designed to attract pity. On the following morning, all the ban- ners on the principal towers were lowered, save the ban- ner of France, which still floated from its summit. But when the inhabitants of Calais beheld at length the pennons of King Philip's host retiring from their view, they knew all hopes of those succours, which they had waited for so anxiously and vainly, were at an end. They had suffered such extremities, that human nature could endure no longer ; and, to intimate that resistance was at an end, they lowered the banner of France, and displayed that of England in its place. But they had to learn that, their obstinacy had offended King Edward more than either their gallantry or their reluctant sub- mission could atone for. He gave them presently to understand, that he would not receive their surrender, unless they yielded infplicitly to his mercy, without any capitulation either for their lives or property. When this severity was objected to even by his own commanders, Edward would agree to show no farther favour than to the following extent. He demanded that six of the chief burgesses of the town should come before him bareheaded, barefooted, and in their shirts, having halters around their necks, bearing the keys of the town and castle of Calais, which were to be humbly surrendered to him. These six men were to submit to the king's pleasure, how severe soever that might be, without reservs'.tion even of life ; and in consideration of their doing so, the stern conqueror reluctantly promised that the rest of the citizens of Calais should have mercy. These conditions were sent to the town, and read be- £IJSTAf E UE SAINT PIERRE. 99 fore the asscrabjcd citizens. The tidings were foiloued by a general lamentation, which, the difficuhy of fincimg men wiih'ng to take upon themselves tliis strange sub- mission considered, was not to be wondered at. After some deliberation, a burgess, the most substantial in the city, jiddressed the assembly. His name, Eustace de Saint Pierre, ought never to be forgotten while disinter- ested patriotism is held valuable among mankind. " He that shall contribute to save this fair town from sack and spoil," said this gallant man, " though at the price of his own blood, shall doubtless deserve well of God and of his country. I will be one who will offer my head to the King of England, as a ransom for the town of Calais." The greater part of the assembly were moved by this speecli to tears and exclamations of gratitude. Five other burgesses caught emulation from the noble devotion of Eustace de Saint Pierre, and offered to partake with him the honourable peril which he had incurred. Tiiey quickly put themselves into the humiliating attire required by Edward, but which, assumed in such a cause, was more honourable than tlie robes of the Garter, which that king had lately instituted. In their shirts, bare- footed, and with the halter around their necks, they were ronducted before Edward, to whom they submitted themselves for disposal, as the stipulated ransom for the pardon of their fellow-citizens. The king, looking on them witli indignation, upbraided them with the losses he had sustained through their obstinacy, and commanded them to be presently beheaded. Sir Walter Manny, and the bravest English nobles and warriors, interfered to pre- vent the execution, and even the Prince of Wales inter- ceded for their lives in vain. The Queen Philippa was the last resource of these unfoitimate men. She had recently joined her husband's camp, in circumstances equally flattering to Edward as a monarch, and interesting to him as a husband. It wa3 during her regency in En.glatid that tl;e great victory of Neville's Cross had been obtained ; and it was under her auspices that David 11. of Scotland was made prisoner. 100 q,UEEN PHILIPPA. The queen was also at this time with chi'd, and thus in every respect entitled to the highest regard of lier royal husband. When she saw that Edward would beluoved with no less entreaty than her own, she rose haslily from her seat, and kneeled before the king, saying, with many tears. " Ah ! ray lord and husband, have I not a riglit tc ask a boon of you, having come over the sea, through so many dangers, that I might wait upon you ? therefore, let me now pray you, in honour of our blessed Redeemer, and for love of me, that you would take pity upon these six prisoners !" Edward looked doubtfully upon the queen, and seemed to hesitate for a space, but said at length, " Ah, madam. I could well wish you had been elsevvliere this day ; yel how can I deny any boon which you ask of me ? Take these men, and dispose of tliem as you will." The gracious queen, rejoiced at having prevailed in hei suit, and having changed the dishonourable attire of the burgesses for new clothing, gave each of them six nobles, for inmiediate use, and caused them to be safely con- veyed through the English host, and set at liberty. Edward 111. had no sooner obtained possession of Calais, than he studied to secure it by fortifications and otherwise, but particularly endeavoured, by internal chan- ges among its inhabitants, to render it in future an impor- tant and permanent possession of the crown of England. For this purpose, he dispossessed the inhabitants of Calais, (who were, indeed, much reduced in numbers,) of their houses and property within the town, and con- ferred their possessions upon Englishmen boi'n. The new inhabitants whom he established in the town were substantial citizens from, London, and a great number of countrymen from the neiglibouring county of Kent, Ir whom he assigned the lands and tenements of the French. Calais became from that period, until the reiun of Philip and Mary, in all respects a colony of England. The king also fortified the castle and the town with additional works. Lastly, before he set sail to return to England; Edviard agreed to a truce with France, which lasted from EDWARD FORTIFIES CALAIS. 101 1317. until the year 1355, though not without infractions on both sides. We must not here end the history of Calais, without adverting to some circumstances winch happened sliortly afler its capture, and are highly descriptive of the man- ners of the time. In supplying the place with a new garrison, Edward had not omitted to choose valiant officers, and such as he thought men worthy of trust. These were the Lord John Montgomery, as governor of the town, and, as seneschal of tlie castle which conmianded the place, a Lombard knight, named Emeric of Pavia. This last officer was a favourite of Edward, in whose court he had been educated from childhood, but was infected with the vice of avarice, to which his countrymen were esteemed to be generally addicted. At the same time when Edward left Calais under such custody, a wise and valiant French lord, called Sir Geoffrey de Charny, acted as lieutenant for the French king, to defend his frontiers, near Saint 0(ners, and watch the garrison of the new English ac- quisition. This officer, who was high in his master's confidence, knew the failing of the Lombard governor, and tempted him, by offering the sum of twenty thousand gold crowns, to deliver up to him the caslle of Calais. To this treacherous proposition, Emeric of Pavia acced- ed, and took a solemn oath to discharge faitliudly his part of the bargain. This negotiation reached the ears of King Edward, wiio sent for the Lombard to come to see him in England, and, when Sir Emeric arrived there, took a private opportunity to charge him with having sold to the French tlie castle of Calais, the dearest thing he had on earth, excepting his wife and children. Emeric confessed the accusation, but returned a mercantile an- swer, th.at his bargain with Sir Geoffrey de Charny might as )et easily be broken, since he had received no part of the stipulated price. Edward, who had sonje regard, as we have said, for this venal knight, forgave him the trea- son viihich he had meditated, on condition that he should 15* lOiJ SUt EMKRIC OF PAVIA, ensnare the Lombard to go on vAih his bargain^ and thai he should infonu Jihii of the time that he and Sir Geof- frey de Charny should finally fix upon for the surrender, t^dward also guve his avaricious favourite permission to get as much money as he could from Sir Geoffrey de Charny, provided he betrayed every particular of the negoiiation to the king himself, and kept the whole mat- ter a secret irom others. Sir Emeric thus secured against the consequences of the treason, and resolved once more to be true to his in- dulgent muster, returned to Calais, and, renewing his in- tercourse with Sir Geoffrey de Charny, fixed on the last night of December, 1348, as the term for executing their secret treaty for the surrender of the castle. King Ed- vi'ard thus enabled to counteract the French stratagem, embarked very secretly with eight hundred choice men- at-arms, and a thousand archers, with whom he landed privately, and introduced them into the caslle of Calais. He then called to him the celebrated Sir Walter Manny, and said, " Sir Knight, I mean to grace you with the honour of this night's enterprise, and 1 and my son will fight under your banner." In the meantime. Sir Geoffrey of Charny, contriver of this enterprise, arrived at Neuillet Bridge, on the cause- way, or high road to Calais, with a part of his force, and there waited till the rest joined him. He then commu- nicated with Emenc of Pavia, by messengers sent to the citadel ; and, learning that the time for his admission into the castle was approaching, he despatched twelve knights, and a hundred men-at-arms, having with them the money agreed upon, while he himself halted nigh to the nearest city-gate with the rest of his company. He left also a small rear-guard on the bridge at Neuillet. The captain of the French advanced guard moved on towards the cas- de, and met with the double traitor, Emeric, at the pos- tern of the fortress, which he kept open, as if to admit the French. They delivered to him the stipulated sum Ir? French crowns. Sir Emeric took the money, and cast it into a che<5t savintr. " We have other work to do than to AND SIR GEOFFREY OF CHARNT 103 count money at present. You shall enter the donjon, gentlemen, and then you are masters of the castle." But the French had no sooner entered at the postern L>f the castle, thus opened to them, than tliey were assailed in front, flank, and rear, by the English, who lay ready for them witliin the castle, and exclaimed, " Manny ! Manny! To the rescue ! What ! thouglit a handful of Frenchmen to take the castle of Calais !" The French men-at-arms, surprised and outnumbered, rendered themselves prison- ers, and were thrust into the donjon, not as conquerors, but prisoners, while the victors prepared to sally from the gates upon Sir Geoffiey de Charny and his party, the rear of whom held their post at the bridge of Neuillet, while the main body had advanced to the Boulogne gate of the town, expecting to be speedily called to the sup- port of their advanced guard, who they calculated ought to be by this time in possession of the castle. These were, however, at a loss to account for the delay of the expected surrender, and their commander was ex- claiming impatiently, " Except this Lombard admit us hastily, we are like to starve here with cold." — " Oh. sir," said a French knight of his company, " you must remember that the Lombards are a shrewd and suspicious people. I warrant me Sir Emeric of Pavia is counting his crowns, and looking that they be all of just weight." As Sir Geoffrey and his party spoke thus among them- selves, the Boulogne gate of Calais, to which they had approached, suddenly opened, and a body of men-at-arms issued forth in good order ; most of them were dismount- ed, and they were attended by three hundred archers. The French, from this apparition, and the cry of" Manny, to the rescue !" instaptly knew that they were betrayed ; but, as the causeway on which they stood was narrow, Sir Geoffrey Charny exclaimed aloud, " Gentlemen, if we turn our backs, we are certainly lost ; dismount speedily, and cut your spears to the length of five feet, for fightir g upon foot." The English, hearing these words, replied, " Well said, by Saint George ! shame on them that shall first turn their backs !" Edward, who was himself engaged 104 EUWARD ENTERTAINS HIS PRISONERS. 'n \h skimtiish, though witliout any marks of ro}a! di?. linciion, despatched six banners and three hundred arch- ers on liorseback, who by a ciicuitous route, reached ilie bridge ofNeuillet, where the French had left a rear-guard, as already noticed. At tills last place, the battle waxed very hot ; but the Frenchmen were taken at great disadvantage, and, after a stout resistance, were compelled to retreat. In the meantime a furious contest was continued upon the cause- way nearer to the town, between the troops of Sir Geof- frey Charny and those under Manny. King Edward was distinguislied amid the crowd of combatants by the ex- clamations of" Ha, Saint George ! Ha, Saint Edward !" with which he accompanied every stroke of his two- handed sword, seeking to niatch himself with the stoutest antagonist whom the affray afforded. He had the luck to encounter Eustace de Ribeaumont, one of the strona;est men and best knights who then lived. This distinguislied French champion gave the English monarch so stout a meeting, that he more than once nearly forced him upon liis knees. Nor was it until the increasing numbers of the English, who sallied from the town to the assistance of their friends, rendered longer defence on the French part unavailing, that Ribeaumont resigned his weapon to the antagonist whom he only knew as a brave warrior, and said the fatal words, " Sir Knight, I surrender myself — rescue, or no rescue !" The French lost in this skir- mish the greater part of the men whom Sir Geoffrey Cliarny had brought towards Calais, except some who had not alighted from their horses, and had therefore the means of escape ; the rest were either slain or made prisoners. King Edward caused his principal officers and prisoners to be feasted at supper that same night, in a great hall, vi'here he placed himself at the head of a royal table. H(ii-e the king sat alone and in state, while the Prince, his son, and the peers of England, served during the first course ; but after this sacrifice to ceremony, the guests were arranned without farther distinction at the same EDWARD ENTERTAINS HIS PRISONERS 105 board. Edward walked up and down, bare-Iicaded, ex- ceplhig a circle of gold, and a chaplet of pearls ot" greai value, around his brows, and passed in this manner round the table, and conversed freely with his captives. On ap- proaching Sir Geollrey Charny, the contriver of the en- terprise, he said, with some signs of displeasure, " 1 owe you bat little thanks. Sir Knight, who would have stolen fi'om me by night what 1 won in broad day. You are a better bargain-maker than I, when you would have pur- chased Calais for twenty thousand crowns ; but, God be praised, you have missed your aim." The I^ord of Char- ny, who was much wounded, remained silent and some- wliat abashed, and Edward passed on to the other guests, to whom he spoke with nuich condescension and polite- ness. But it was upon Sir Eustace de Uibeaumont that Edward conferred the highest praises, styling him the most valiant and coiu'ageous knight in that skirmish. *• Nor did I ever," said the king, " find a man who gave me so much to do, body to body, as you have done this night. Wlierefore, I adjudge to you this chaplet, as the prize of the tournament," taking off the string of pearls wliich he wore. " I pray you to wear it for my sake at all festivals, and declare unto the ladies that it was given to you by Edward of England, as a testimony of your valour. I discl)arge you also of any ransom, and you are [vee to depart to-morrow, if sucli be your pleasure." ]n this strange anecdote, you may recognise some pro- ceedings, wliich, had such taken place in our days, on the part of a great general and great monarch, would have necessarily been considered imprudent and incon- siderate. There was no great wisdom certainly in trust- ing to the double treachery of Emeric of Pavia, 'and there was great rashness in a monarch like Edward ven- turing his person, witliout any distinction of "his rank, in the nocturnal confusion of so desperate a skirmish. To encounter such dangers, however, was the proud- est boast of chivalry ; and a monarch, however wise and sagacious, was expected to court the most desperate risks of war, if he expected the praise of an accomplishea 106 PESTILENCE RAGES. knight, which was then held the highest that a man could aspire to, how eminent soever his hereditarj lauic. Ii is not less worth your notice, how generously Edward III. rewarded the French knight who had struck Inra down in battle, although the same monarch could shortly before hardly be induced to pardon the six burgesses of Calais, whose sole oflence was, the honourable discharge of their duty to their king and country, and the defence of their town. This is one instance among many, that it was reckoned presumption on the part of citizens or pea- sants, to meddle with martial affairs, which were accounted the proper business of the nobility and gentry, and their followers. It is also remarkable, that the attempt upon Calais might have been made a legitimate pretext for breaking off the truce, on tlie part of the King of England. But as Geoffi'ey de Charny pretended to no authority from the French king, and as Philip disclaimed the attempt, Ed- ward III. was well disposed to pass it over. The evils of these continued wars, though carried on with great increase to the glory of individuals, were at- tended with so much misery to both kingdoms, that they probably never endured a greater state of wretchedness In France, a pestilential disorder of a dangerous kind completed what had been commenced by want and bad nourishment. The populace died in great numbers, and those who remained entertained a natural horror o|^ tlie feudal oppressors under whom they suffered sucli unpitied misery. This pestilence swept over not only the greater part of Christendom, but Africa, and Asia itself, and reached England, where it was equally fatal. It fell most heavily on the poorer part of the people ; and of the inferior clergy so Jiiany died, that very many churches were without either parson or curate to serve the cure. Besides this disastrous scourge, the King of England, although his parliament had been repeatedly libei'al in voting him supplies of money, was cfflicted by the embar- rassment of his financies. It was at a very extravagant cost that he had been able to support these wars of France, SIR EMERIC OF PAVIA PUT TO DEATH. 1 01 and the subsidies granted to him by his English subjects were speedily exhausted in the expenses which attended the prosecution of hostilities in a foreign country, and the ])ay of many auxiliary troops. The large spoil made by llie English soldiers, contributed, as usual, to debauch the morals of the people, and accustom them to extravagance and unbounded expense. These national evils had at least one good effect ; they restrained the Kings of France and England from renew- ing the war. Tlie attempt, therefore, upon Calais passed over without notice. It does not appear, however, that the treacherous gov- ernor, Emeric of Pavia, ever recovered the entire good opinion of the king. He was deprived of the govern- ment of the castle, the very day after the skirmish ; and, although he remained in the service of the English king, he never appears to have regained his confidence. He was retained in his active service, however, took posses- sion, by stratagem, of the fortress of Guines, near to Ca- lais, and attempted also to surprise Saint Omers. In this last enterprise. Sir Emeric was defeated and made prison- er by his old acquaintance, Sir Geoffrey Charny, who availed himself of the opportunity to be revenged of his furiTier treachery. He caused the Lombard to be put to death with all the dishonours of degradation, command- ing his spurs to be hacked from his heels, as fi'om those of one unworthy of the honour of knighthood, and his body to be torn to pieces by wild horses drawing in dif- ferent directions ; a cruel, yet not undeserved punishment, for the perfidious part he had acted at the attempt upon Calais. But this last event took place after some others thai were of greater importance. One of these was the sub- mission made by Godfrey of Harcourt, the counsellor of Edward III., to his native kinsman and king, Philip of France. Tlie penitent threw himself at that monarch's, feet, with a towel twisted round his neck, in the form of a halter, confessing the retnorse which he felt for having been a principal cause of the defeat of Cressy, and re- 108 DEATH OF PHILIP THE FORTLTNATE. grelting tliat he should have added to the number of rhose French princes of the blood-royal who -had sc often contributed to the misfortunes of ilieir native coun- try. Philip, though subject to violent passion, was placable upon submission, and forgave a penitent against whom he had several real subjects of ofience. Their reconciliation did not, however, last long. Shortly afterwards, the King of France united the county of Dauphiny to the crown, by marrying his grandson Charles to the heiress of that province. The dauphin himself retired from the world, and became a monk ; and Charles, the husband of Joan, was the first French prince who bore the title of dauphin, afterwards selected as that of the successor to the crown of France. Charles is often termed Duke of Normandy, a county which his father John possessed until he acceded to the crown. In 1349, Philip of Valois himself wedded the Princess Blanche, sister of the King of Navarre ; but he did not long survive this union, having died in the twenty- third year of his reign, and the fifty-seventh of his age. (A. D. 1350.) Philip of Valois was hated by the nobility, on account of the frequent encroachments which he made on tlieir privileges, and for the readiness with which he subjected many of tlieir number to capital punisliment. lie ob- tained, at the commencement of his reign, the title of the Fortunate, because, although three predecessors stood between him and the throne, he had nevertheless the good luck to obtain possession of it ; but, as happened to other princes, the long course of unsuccessful w^ar in which he was engatred, ard the miseries undergone durinij his reign, would better have entitled him to the surname of the Unhappy. ACCESSION OF JOHxN THE GOOD. 109 CHAPTER VI. /iccesfiion of John the Good — Truce with England vio- latt'.d, tut renewed — Intrigues of Charles ■ King o/ JVavarre — Charles assassinates the Constable of France, and extorts his pardon from the King — Ed- ward and his son, the Black Prince, invade France, and ravage the Country — the Black Prince xvinters at Bourdeaux — Kitig John assembles a large army, marches into Poitou, and comes up with the English encamped at Maupertuis, within two leagues oj Poictiers — Battle of Poictiers — King John taken Prisoner — His reception by the Black Prince — Re- turn of the Prince, with his Prisoner, to England. John, Duke of Normandy, ascended the throne on the death of l)is father, Phihp of Valois. He had at- tained the mature age of fifty, had commanded armies with reputation, had acquired character for both courage an"d conduct, and was, in every respect, a more iiopeful prince than his predecessor. Yet King Jolin, of France, though distinguished by the Battering surname of tlie Good, early evinced a course of severity, wliich occasioned much unpopularity. At a solemn festival at Paris, immediately after his coronation, he caused to be arrested Rodolph de Brienne, Count of Y whom they had caused to remain on horseback, for the service of dispersing tlie archers, and forcing a passage for the rest of tlie army. These had no sooner entered between the hedges, how- ever, than the archers, by whom they were lined, com- menced their .%tai discharge, and the horses of the men- at-arms recoiled and turned restive, disordering their own ranks, and rendering it impossible for their masters to perform the orders given to them. Sir James Audley, with four squires of undaunted valour, fought in the front of the battle, and stopped not to take prisoners, but went straight forward against all opposition. Jt was in vain that a great body of dismounted men-at- arms entered the fatal pass, under two of the French marshals, to relieve the mounted spearmen. One of these leaders was slain, the other made prisoner ; and their troops, driven back, were thrown in confusion upon the second line, commanded by the Dauphin. At the same time, the strong body of English men-at-arms, who had been reserved for that service, with a corresponding number of archers, burst unexpectedly from the ambus- cade, in which they had been till now concealed. This was connnanded, as already mentioned, by the valiant Gascon knight, called the Captal of Buche, a faithful 16 4tb Ser. /18 KING JOHN TAKEN PKISONER, AND vassal of England. He attacked the French column of the flank and rear, and compelled it to fiy. The Scot- tish auxiliaries shared the fate of their allies. The vic- tory being now on ilie side of England, tlie prince com- snanded his men-at-arms to take horse, seeing the moment was come to advance. They mounted, and prepared to charge accordingly, the prince himself giving the word, " Advance banners, in the name of God and Saint George!" Upon seeing the approach of this strong body, those French lords who commanded the second division, and had charge of the three younger princes of France, retreated from the battle, in order, as they after wards alleged, To place these royal persons in safetv. The arn)y of the French was now in such confusion, that the third di\ision was exposed to the full fury of the English assault, by the retreat of the second line, and the person of King John, who commanded it, was placed in the greatest danger ; his nobles, who fought around him, were almost all slain or taken, and the victors, who disputed with each other the glory and advantage of taking so great a prince alive, called out, " Yield you, sir, or you die !" The gallant monarch disdained the safety which was to be found by complying with these invitations, and continued manfully to defend himself with his battle-axe. " If," says Froissart, " the knights of King John had fought as resolutelj;- as he did himself, the event of the day might have been different." Finding himself left almost alone, and overborne by numbers, the unfortunate king expressed a wish to sur- render to his cousin, the Prince of Wales ; but, as this was impossible, — for the prince was in a distant part of the field, — King John gave his gauntlet in token of sur- render to Sir Dennis Morbeque, a Frenchman by birth, but who, exiled from France for a homicide there com- mitted, was in the Black Prince's service. From this gentleman King John was soon after taken forcibly by several knights of England and Gascony, who disputed the prize with so much violence, that the captive mon- arch was only delivered from the tumult, and even the ENTERTAINED BY THE BLACK PRINCE. HI) personal danger which it involved, by the Earl of War- wick and Lord Cobhani, sent by the Prince of Wales to save him amid the general disorder. Philip of France, youngest son of King John, remained captive with his father. He behaved so resolutely on that fatal day, thai he was said to have then acquired the epithet of the Hardy, by which he was afterwards distinguished. The Prince of Wales, whose courtesy was at least equal to his bravery, caused a banquet to be spread in his pavilion, where he entertained the captive monarch, with his great nobles, while he himself refused to sit down at the table, c^s not worthy of so great an honour as to eat with the king of France. He bid his royal captive, at the same time, make no heavy cheer for his misfortunes, though the fate of battle had been otherwise than he would have desired. " You shall find my father," said he, " willing to display towards you all honour and friendship, and you shall, if you will, become such friends together as you have never hitherto been. Consider," he added, with well-meant fiaitery, " though you have lost the field, you have attained the praise of being the bravest knight who has this day fought upon your side." Tiie unfortunate king was much affected by the courtesy of his victor, from which he experienced whatever conso- lation his condition admitted of. The Prince of Wales was not less anxious to reward his friends, than by his generous conduct to soften the misfortunes of his enemies. Lord Audley, who had commenced the battle of Poictiers, had continued, as long as the action lasted, still pressing forward, without stopping to make prisoners, until at length he was nearly slain upon the spot; and he was the first object of the prince's gratitude. Upon this noble knight the prince bestowed, with his highest commendations, a noble gift of five hundred merks of yearly revenue, which Sir James Audley received with suitable expressions of gratitude. Wlien he returned to his own pavilion, the noble knight sent for his brother, and some other friends, and made (20 THE BLACK PRINCE. them bear witness that he transferred to his four faidiful squires the gift wliieh the prince had given him, -since it had been by liieir means and steady support, through tlie wliole battle, that he liad hevn able to render the services which til* prince had vali.ed so highly. On the second day after the battle, the Black Prince tiarched towards Poictiers, into which a distinguished French warrior, named the Lord of Roye, had thrown himself, w^ith a considerable body of men, which he was leading to join the French army, but which came too late for that service. Moderate, however, in his wishes to improve his victory, and chiefly desirous to secure his important prisoner. King John of France, the prince de- clined entering into any considerable enterprise at this iime, and passed steadily on his retreat towards Bour- df^HUK. His march was so slow, that he was at liberty to ttttend to the business of his army, and the details in which individuals were interested. Among other information, the Black Prince learned the generous manner in which Lord Audley had disposed, among his four esquires, of the splendid gift which his bounty had conferred upon him. He sent for him there- fore to his presence, and requested to know wherefore he had parted with the gift of his sovereign? and whether his conduct arose from the present not being acceptable to him ? Sir James Audley confessed that he had pre- sented to his esquires the gift which his highness's bounty liad cotiferred ; but he alleged, that the fidelity of those esquires had been the means of his being able to execute the vow which he had made ; and that, by their constant attendance through the bloody day, they had repeatedly saved his life at the imminent risk of their own. " Where- fore," said the noble lord, " it was well my part to trans- fer to ti)em that bounty which your highness designed for me, especially since, renouncing in their behalf this royal gift, } have still, God be praised ! revenues sufK- cient to maintain my place in your highness's service. But if this should offend your highness, I am right willing that it shall be ordm-ed according to your pleasure " REWARDS LORD AUDLET ISJI The Black Prince joyfully accepted an apology so congenial to his feelings. He highly approved of Lord Aiidley's gift to his escjuires, but made a point of pressing upon him an additional gift of four hundred pounds year- ly more, which he required him to retain for his own use and behoof. It was also, apparently, in this march that the Black Prince decided the important question, who was to be considered as the immediate captor of King John of France. With the same generosity and justice which always marked the conduct of this gallant prince, Edward adjudged the glory and profit of this action to the poor French exile, Sir Dennis of Morbeque, to whom King John had given his gauntlet in token of surrender, rather than to more powerful knights and barons, who stated their claim as preferable to that of the poor banished Frencliman. I have already staled, elsewhere, that the ransom of a captive belonged to the person by whom he was taken prisoner. But the person of King John fell under an exception, which adjudged, that prisoners, whose ransom was rated at ten thousand crowns or up- wards, should not belong to individuals, but to the gene- ral of the army. Tlie prince, therefore, finally closed this affair, by secretly transferring to. Dennis Alorbeque the sum at which King John's ransom was rated. After spending most of the winter at Bourdeaux, the Black Prince returned to England with his prisoner, and made a solemn entrance into London, where the citizens received him with a gorgeous display of their power and wealth. In the processsion which traversed the city on {he occasion, King John of France appeared in royal ar- ray, mounted upon a beautiful white courser, while the l*rmce of Wales, avoiding the triumphant display of a victor, rode beside his captive upon a little black palfrey of an ordinary appearance. In modern times, this might be considered as an aflectation of humility, and a more pointed personal triumph, than if the prince had shown less, apparent deference. But we are not to judge of the 122 MEETING OF THE feelings of a rude age from those of a civilized one. In Edward's time, it was no uncommon disjolay of die \ic- lor to show conquered princes to the people, loaded with irons, as in the triumphs of the ancient Ronifins ; and the very opposite conduct of the conqueror of Poictiers, was considered as a mark of moderation and humility 'in the part of the conqueror, and received as such by the vanquished, and all who witnessea it. CHAPTER VII. Consequences to Fi'ance of the Battle of Poictiers— Disputes between the Dauphin and the States- General — Suppression of an Insurrection under Sir Godfrey Harcourt, who had again revolted to the English — Siege of Rennes — Truce concluded — Capture of the Castle of Euvreux by Sir William. Granville — Es- cape of Charles of Kavarre from Prison — he organ- izes the Faction of the JVavarrois — Insolence of Mar- cel, Provost of Paris — Insurrection of the Peasantry, called Jacquerie — Partial Success of the Pegent against the English — Treaty for the Ransom of King John — the Estates of France refuse to sanction this Treaty, and Edward again invades France — Siege of Rheims — Peace of Bretigny — Death of King John, and Accession of the Dauphin Charles. The battle of Poictiers, being the disastrous conse- quence of that of Cressy, had been yet more calamitous than the preceding victory. (A. D. 1356.) For, as the combat had been chiefly fought on foot, and almost wholly by dismounted men-at-arms, a much larger j)or- tion of the French nobility had been slain than at Cressy and the kingdom was, in a great measure, deprived of those on whose courage the defence of the country was supposed chiefly to depend. The three sons of King John, who W2re aaturally looked to as heirs of the crown, STATES-GENERAL. 123 were too young to be capable of retrieving so dreadful a misfortune as tlie defeat of Poictiers. Tlie king had left no regent, or other legal representative ; a deficienc)r wliieh his son Ciiarles, who bore the title of dauphin and Duke of Normandy, endeavoured to supply, by sunmion- ing a meeting of the Estates of the kingdom, naturally hoping, that in a period so calamitous he should find them disposed to act unanimously for obtaining the rehef of King John, and restoring good order in the kingdom of France. Unliappilv, however, the members of this national body were strongly teinpted to avail tliemselves of a favourable opportunity for depressing the royal power, and raising their own, rather than to combine in a joint effort for ex- tricating the nation from its difficulties. One principal cause of the general discontent and dis- order, was the intrigues and conspiracies of the King of Navarre, who at this period might be justly termed the Evil Genius of France. It is here for an instant neces- sary to resume his history between 1354 and the battle of Poictiers. We have mentioned, that, at the former period, by the solemn farce of a submission and pardon, a reconciliation had been patched up betwixt him and King John. Charles of Navarre felt more resentment at the harsh manner of his trial, than gratitude for the easy terms of his pardon. He seems also to have been deeply imbued with that love of mischief for mischief's sake, which is in some a symptom of a tendency to insanity. He organized new conspiracies, into which he seduced even the heir of the crown, whom he persuaded that he was not sufficiently intrusted with power by his father. John, however, detected the plot of this wicked prince, and having a full ex[)lanation with the dauphin, prevailed on him to desert the pernicious faction with which he had engaged. The king, by the daupliin's personal assistance, next seized upon the person of the king of Navarre, and threw him into prison, where he remained till after the battle of Poictiers. The Count of Haroourt, brother of Sir Godfrey, was executed, among 124 iNTIllCIIES OF CHARLES OF NAVARRE. Other adherents of the King of Navarre, upon the appre hension of their leader. But when the field of Poictiers was lost, it was not the least, aniidst the various calamities of that disastrous pe- riod, that the spirit of Charles of Navarre influenced the delibeiatioris of the States-General, although his person was confined in the Castle of Crevecoeur. The Stales made it soon evident that they were less bent on the res- toration of the king to his subjects, than upon the degra- dation of the croun, and engrossing the sovereign power within their own body. They divided tliemselves into separate comnnttees, for executing various branches of the public service hitherto transacted by the king's ministers, and transmitted several lofty demands to the dauphin, requiring the punishment of certain officers of state, of whom they comjjlained, a general change of the king's ministry, the deliverance from prison of the King of Na- varre, and the subjection of tlie dauphin's government to the predominating influence of a committee of thirty-six of tlie meu)bers of the States-General, in which it was proposed to vest the powers of their whole body. Tlie dauphin Charles, embari-assed by the engrossing and grasping spirit displayed by the assembly from whom he had expected assistance, endeavoured to evade de- mands which he could not have granted without great liazard to the crown of which he was heir, and disrespect towards his father, who, although a prisoner in England^ was still its owner. He dissolved the States, in spite of the remonstances of the citizens of Paris, who, headed by Marcel, the provost of the merchants, and Ronsac, the sheriff, declared violently in favour of the assembly of representatives, and insisted upon their being reinstated in their authority. While these intestine divisions were proceeding with violence in the metropolis, war was laying waste t!ie more distant provinces of the kingdom of France. The cele- brated Duke of Lancaster was in arms in Normandy, and in his company Lord Godfrey of Harcourt, whose name tJEATH OF GODFREY OF HARCOUKT. l'2b We have frequently had occasion to allude to. He had, as we iiave already mentioned, submitted to King John, after the battle of Cressy ; but, incensed by the death of his brother, John, Couat of Harcourt, lie had again revolted to the English interest, and, having joined the Duke of Lancaster, was appointed his lieutenant. One slender ray of light alone remained. Ere the States were dissolved, they had granted some supjjlies, enabling the Duke of Normandy to levy a small army to suppress this internal enemy in the province where he claimed an especial personal interest. By the judicious use of these supplies, a valiant French knight. Sir Rob- ert Clermont, with about three hundred men-at-arms, and a sufficient body of infantry, marched against Sir Godfrey Harcourt, wliom he speedily met with. The troops which that eminent malecontent commanded, were chiefly revolted Frenchmen, like himself, but of no great reputation in arms. Part of his troops consisted of a body of aichers, who operated with little effect on the French men-at-arms, who covered themselves under their buck- lers, and when the quivers of their enemy were expend- ed, advanced to close quarters. The men of Sir God- frey Harcourt then shrunk from the attack ; but their general continued fighting with courage worthy his repu- tation. Seeing, however, that escape was impossible, he took his resolution to die like a man. Being slightly lame, he placed himself so as, by the inequality of the ground, to supply in some degree the deficiency of his limbs, and wielding an axe of great weight, (for he was very strong in the arms,) he dealt such furious blous, that for a time no one dared approach him. At length, after he had thus valiantly defended himself against all who attacked him on foot, two French knights, mounting tiieir horses, charged him at the gallop, and bore hisi:! to the earth with their spears, where he was slain by the mfantry who crowded around him. Thus died Sir God- frey de Harcourt, paying at lengtli the penalty frequently attending those who have been the means of plunging 126 CAPTURE OF EUVREUX. their country into the evils of civil war. This battle was fought near Coutances, about November, 1356. , Shortly afterwards, the Duke of Lancaster, in revenge of the death of Sir Godfrey Harcourt, besieged Rennes very closely, pressed it hard, and threatened, by the taking of that city, to complete the separation of Bre- lagiie from the French kingdom. Lord Charles of Blois, who continued his efforts to possess himself of the county of Bretagne, urged the dauphin strongly to assist him with soldiers, but the dauphin had other work upon his hands, for the dissolution of the States-General had then cast every thing into disorder. A truce was, however, made, at the earnest intercession of two cardinals of the church. It afforded a moment's breathing time to the unhappy kingdom of France, and oblicred the Duke of Lancaster to raise the siege of Rennes, which was on the point of surrender. But the evils of France were so great that this partial relief was scarcely felt. In fact, the confusion and general discon- tent in that kingdom broke out in such numerous and dreadful forms, that, to understand them, it is necessary to consider them separately ; and, without minutely at- tending to the order in which the events happened, we may observe, that they were, each and all, the portentous consequences of general confusion and discord, of the absence and captivity of the king, the mutiny of the common people, and the disposition of all ranks to vio- lence and spoil. The first great evil was the progress of the English war, which, although not violently pursued by King Ed- ward, was yet followed up by his captains in Bretagne, Normandy and Gascony. The manner in which such enterprises were carried on, may be well illustrated by the successful attack of William of Granville upon the strong town and castle of EuvreuK. This nobleman dwelt about two leagues from that town, and often visited it. He was privately attached to Philip of Navarre, younger brother of Charles the Bad, who served with the English hosts oommanded by the Duke of Lancaster. But the Lord BY WILLIAM OF GRAiNVILLE. 121 of Granville had never ojoenly borne arms in the quar- rel j no suspicion attached to him, therefore, at Euvreux and he had the means of making a strong party amont the burgesses. He came by degrees to use the open ground before the castle-gate as a place for his ordinary promenade ; and as the captain sometimes went abroad for refreshment, and entered into conversation with him, they fell into a sort of familiarity. One day, having every thing appointed to support his attempt, William of Granville began to tell an idle story to the governor concerning a pretended attack upon Eng- land by the joint forces of the King of Denmark and the King of Ireland, who, for that purpose, had, he said, taken the sea with a numerous host. When the French- man demanded from whence he had this intelligence, William of Granville replied, that a knight of Flanders had sent the news to him, and with it a set of chessmen, the most beautiful he had ever seen. This excited the curiosity of the seneschal of the castle, who was a great admirer of the game of chess. William of Granville, as if to gratify his curiosity, sent for the chessmen, on con- dition that they should play a game together. The board and men were brought ; and the seneschal u^as so impru- dent as to admit the kniglit within the entrance of the fortress. He was privately armed with a sliirt of mail concealed under his upper clothing, and held in bis hand a small battle-axe, and thus, while apparently intent on his game, stood prepared to take advantage of such op- portunity as should present itself. In the meantime, his valet warned the conspirators, burgesses of the place, to hold themselves in instant readiness. In the course of the game, W''illiam of Granville seized an oppoitunity to dash out the captain's brains with his battle-axe, and wmding a bugle horn which he carried with him for the purpose, the burgesses ran to his assistance, and found him bestriding the body of the captain, and defending the gate, which he had occupied, against such of the garrison as hastily took the alarm. The insurgents speed- ily seconded him, and made themselves masters of FiU"^- 128 ESCAPE OF CHARLES OF NAVARRE. reux, which became a head quarter of the faction ot tn^ English, or Navarrois, in Norniandy. Such was tlie nature of tlie exploits which were then achieved in every corner of France, in which good faith and personal fidelity seem to have been little observed by either party. It \\as not, however, so much the national war be- tween the French and English which brought so much harm upon the former nation, as the violent factions among the Frenchmen themselves, which were about this time considerably augmented in number, and no less so in rancour. I have told you more than once of the peculiar and dangerous character of Charles, King of Navarre. It w as the misfortune of France that this person, of so faithless a disposition, joined to qualities so showy and so popular, escaped, at this moment of the greatest confusion, from the castle of Crevecoeur, in which he had been con- fined by King John for his former intrigues. The lib- erated prisoner was received with great joy, not only at Amiens, and other cities, but in Paris itself, where Mar- cel, the provost of the merchants, became his principal adherent. Being an accomplished orator, Charles of Navarre harangued the Parisians in pubhc, and with great effect on their credulity ; he seemed to declare himself for a republic, or rather an aristocracy, instead of a monarchy, countenancing the claims of the States, in opposition to those which were preferred for the crown on the part of the dauphin and others. Those who adhered to the party of Charles, or in general to that of the States, obtained ihe name of Navarrois. Philip of Navarre, however, though the brother of Charles, remained in the English camp ; nor could he ever be prevailed on to declare in favour of a republic, in which, he said, there could nevei be order, honour, or stability, but a constant succession o/ shame and confusion. Meantime, the dauphin was under the necessity of again assembling the States-General, in order to obtain^ INSURRECTION OF THE PARISIANS. 129 tlirongh their means, the power of imposing taxes, and levying money for tlie support of the war. The provost of the merchants thwarted the dauphin in all his pro- jects ; for, like the King of Navarre, his patron, he per- sonally hated tlie dauphin, who had been once in some degree hinjself a Navarrois, until induced by the remon- strances of his father King Jolin to renounce these dan- gerous opinions. Owing to tliis defection, the dauphin was mortally hated by the King of Navarre and his fol- lowers. Marcel the provost in particular mixed in all his proceedings, and caused the people, who followed him in great numbers, to assume blue hats, as a mark of their adlierence to his party. The slightest offence given to any of these armed burgesses called the whole pa^ty fortli ; and it became absolutely impossible to maintain good order even in the capital itself, far less to make any exertion, by levying money or otherwise, in behalf of the king, who was still a captive in England. The dauphin endeavoured to temporise, and strove, by every means in his power, to form a royal party in opposition to that of the King of Navarre. He had in some measure sue ceeded, when an accident threw all into irretrievable confusion. An ordinary citizen, named l\Iace, had murdered Jean Baillett, the Treasurer of France, and taken refuge in a neighbom'ing church. The dauphin sent two mareschals, one of France, and one of Champagne, with orders to take the criminal into custody, and lead him to instant execution. The Hishop of Paris. exclaimed against this act of necessary justice, as a violation of the sanctuary of the church, and the provost of the merchants called his followers into the streets, and marched with the whole mob of Paris directly to the lodgings of the dauphin, in what was tiien called the Palace of Justice. Entering furiously, and without reverence, into the presence of the dauphin, Marcel seized upon the two mareschals, and put them to death, so close to the prince, that he was covered with tlieir blood. " How now, sirs," said the dauphin, apprehensive of farther violence, " would you shed the '30 FACTION OF THE NAVARROIS. blood royal of France !" Marcel answered in the nega- tive ; and, to show his good intentions, he -snatched rudely from the dauphin's head the embroidered hat oi hood wliich he wore, and clapped on him in its place the blue liat, which was the sign of the Navari'ois faction. He himself, to complete his insolence, wore during the rest of the day the hat of the prince, which was of a withered rose colour. The bodies of the murdered ma- reschals were dragged through the streets, and the King of Navarre, who had avoided being present in the city during the insurrection, endeavoured to take advantage of thf" incident, so as to farther his own plans, by the most extravagant demands, which he founded upon it. The dauphin, however, was received as regent by the states, to whom the Navarrois had proposed to dethrone the king, and dispossess the dauphin. Thus- fortified at least with nominal authority, the prince withdievv from the metropolis and its turbulent citizens, to tlie counties of Picardy and Champagne, where he assembled the states of those provinces, and received such succours and obedience as they had the means of yielding to him. All France was thus shaken to its centre with internal discord, and its disasters seemed past the possibility of increase, when two circumstances, both of a most alarm- ing kind, carried tlie general misery to a height hitherto unknown, and even blunted the feelings of the public to the wretchedness which they had hitherto undergone. We have already mentioned the bands of mercenary leaders, who acknowledged no officer or supeiior but those who promised to procure them the greatest share of plunder. These troops, or at least their leaders, were generally English ; and although they made no great distinction of political principle, they were chiefly follow- ers of the Navarre party, as that which promised them the widest privilege of plunder. By means of jhese Companions, as they were called, Cliarles of Navari'e proposed to carry into effect his dream of a republic, or rather a species of oligarchy, in which, doubtless, he pro- posed that he himself should act the principal part. For INSURRECTION Of THE JACQ,UERIE. 131 ihis purpose, he drew to his party as many of the leaders of the Companions as ' he possibly could, and prepared by their means to lay waste the kingdom of France. Neither was the dauphin backward in his attempts ta reduce the kingdom to subjection ; for, as we shall pres- ently see, a second great and overpowering calamity, namely, the insurrection of the peasantry, was in its con- sequences, the means of strengthening and increasing the army which he assembled. This Jacquerie, or war of the peasants, so called, because the gentry gave to the-n the contemptuous name of Jaques Bonhomme, or Good- man James, was the most dreadful scourge which had yet ravaged France ; it is impossible to conceive, and it would be indecent and disgusting to attempt to describe Its horrors. It arose from the series of oppression, scorn,, and injury, which the peasants, or cultivators of the soil; had so long sustained at the hands of the nobility and gentry. These last saw in the peasantry creatures whom they de-emed of an inferior species to themselves, and whose property and persons they held alike at their dis- posal. What little protection the common people had received from the crown was now at an end, by the king's captivity, and the general confusion throughout the kingdom. In these sad days, each noble or knight became the uncontrolled feudal tyrant of the estate wiiich belonged to him ; and most of them were induced, by the intoxication attending the possession of arbitrary power, to make a harsh and tyrannical use of their privi- leges, each practising on his vassals the most unlimited oppression. The effects of such absolute power termi- nated in the grossest abuses, and at length drove to uttei despair the peasantry, who were themselves starving, while, as an insult to their misery, they saw their lords revelling in the excess of luxury and ill-timed extrava- gance. After witnessing the evils of the country pro- ceed from bad to worse, the peasantry at length became desperate, and seizing such rustic arms as pitchforks, scythes, clubs and reaping-hooks, they rose with fury, and i3'-2 INSURRECTION OF THE JACq.LERlE. joined together in large bodies, resolving to destroy all the nobility and gentry in the kingdom. This insurrection took place in several provinces ; and, as is usually the case in a war of such a description, where an oppressed and ignorant people burst suddenly from their bondage, and revel in every license whicli ignorance and revenge can suggest to them, they burnt or pulled down the houses of the nobility, stormed their castles by main force, misused their wives and daughters, put them to various modes of death, equally cruel and protracted, and in short behaved like fierce bandogs, suddenly un- loosed from their chain, and equally incapable of judg- ment and of humanity. There was one instance, and not a solitary one, where this furious rabble roasted a noble, whose castle they had stormed, alive on a spit, and compelled his wife and children to partake of his flesh. We willingly leave these horrors in oblivion, only remarking, that it is a double curse of slavery and oppres- sion, that for a time it renders its victims, after they suc- ceed in breaking their bonds, incapable of thinking like human b/^ings. The horrors of this servile war had this good effect, that it impelled all men to join in putting a stop to so aggravated an evil. The nobility, however, who made the use of arms their sole profession, soon united together for mutual defence, and, completely armed as they were, found no difficulty in defeating the frantic peasants, though with the most unequal numbers. An instance is given by Froissart of an interesting na- ture. The Duchess of Normandy, the Duchess of Or- leans, and nearly three hundred other ladies of quality, young damselsj and children of the nobility, had taken refuge in the town of Meaux, where they hoped to be defended against the fury of the Jacquerie. Here they were beset by about nine or ten thousand of the insur- gents ; and it became too apparent that the rabble of the town were to take part with the peasantry, and admit inem into the place without opposition. The Count of Folx and the Captal of Buche, chanced to pass neat SUPPRESSION OF THE INSURRECTION. 133 ihe town where the ladies were enclosed by sucl' numbers, and heard an account of their imminent peril; and of the rnuiiilude of savage clowns by whom the)r were surrounded. The knights were of different polit- ical principles. The earl was French both in birth and opinions ; the Captal of Buclie, so called from a district in Gascony, of which he was governor, was distinguished by his valour in the service of Edward III., being the same who led the successful ambuscade at the battle of Poictiers. Both, without regarding their dif- ference in other particulars, were alike disposed to show themselves good knights, and put their persons in risk foi the safety of so many noble ladies, who were destined to death and infamy by a furious rabble. The armed at- tendants of the knights might be sixty lances, probably making, with all their retainers, about three or four hun- dred men. At the head of this very inferior force, the Count of Foix, and the Captal of Buche, rode straight to Meaux, where the ladies were still protected in a citadel, or forti- fied quarter of the town, altliough the inhabitants had admitted the ruffian mob into the market-place and streets of the city. Tlie two valiant knights arrived just in time to |)revent the females from falling into the cruel hands of their outrageous enemies. They lowered their lances, and rushed into tlie market-place, then full of the disor- derly rabble, who were ill able to endure an attack so fu- rious. They were borne out of the town at the spear's point, broken, beaten down, and pursued for miles. His- torians assure us, that seven thousand of the peasants were slain, whicli is not impossible, considering that their antagonists were so fully armed as almost to be invulne- rable, while their opponents were entirely defenceless. The knights returned in triumph, and burnt a part of the town of Meaux, to revenge themselves on the inhabitants who had admitted the peasants within the walls. The warriors who (though personal and national enemies) had acted with so much gallantry in behalf of the distressed 134 SUPPRESSION OF THE INSURRECTION iemaleSj were applauded, and generally imitated. Othei battles, like that of IVleaux, took place in France, in dif- ferent places, and the Jacquerie, which had raged so hor- ribly, was finally suppressed. As I have before hinted, the horrors of this insurrection of the peasantry obliged the nobles to unite themselves together, and rendered them more obedient to the com- mand of their natural chiefs. Their campaign, it may be believed, was a bloody one, since they gave no quarter, but hanged, upon the next tree, such insurgents as fell into their hands. Though a sharp remedy, it proved a sure one, and this rebellion was at length stifled in the blood of the unfortunate peasants. The regent, or the dauphin, was thus enabled to place himself at the head of an army of thirty thousand men, raised for the service of subjecting the Jacquerie, but at the head of which he speedily took an opportunity to blockade the rebellious town of Paris, of which he earnestly desired to render himself master. He hoped for success the rather that he had a party also within the town secretly attached to him, though not strong enough openly to contend with the faction led by the provost of the merchants. The King of Navarre, on the other side, brought to- gether a strong body of the bands of Companions of whom I have before spoken, and encamped at St. Dennis, in order to take such opportunity as might offer to support the Provost Marcel, and the Parisians of the Navarre fac- tion. The provost, in the meantime, became satisfied that matters could not remain long in this uncertainty, and resolved to admit the King of Navarre and his forces into the city, in order to enable him to continue a resist- ance to tlie dauphin, to which he began to feel his own influence was not equal. He communicated, therefore, to the chiefs lying at St. Dennis, the scheme he had formed, and directed them to approach the gates of St. Antoine and St. Honore, at twelve o'clock the ensuing nisi;ht, with a choice body of forces, whom he proposed t ■» admit into Paris. It happened, however, that two citizens heads of tlie DAUPHIN ENTERS PARIS IN TRIUMPH. 135 anposite, or regent's party, called John and Symon Mail- art, l)aving some suspicions of what was going on, appre- hended the provost about midnight, at the gate of St. x\n- loine, having the keys of the city in his hands. They in- stantly-charged him with treachery, and slew him upon the spot. Thus died Marcel ; and his party, having been detected in so disloyal an enterprise, fell into public dis- credit, and was dispersed. The immediate effect of thess events was, that the dauphin, on the one part, entered Paris in triumph, and the King of Navarre, on the other, declared war formally against the whole kingdom of France. This defiance he carried into execution, by means of the bands of Companions who, as we have intimated, were in possession of iriany strong places in different parts of France, from whence they made unexpected sallies and long marches, by which they took castles which were thought in absolute security, and pillaged defenceless vil- lages when they least thought of danger. The prisoners which these adventurers made on such occasions, were ransomed for large sums of money ; and those who could not; or would not, pay these exactions, were put to death without mercy. Providence, however, had not entirely deserted France, and even out of the extremity of disorder and confusion, divine wisdom wrought means of recovery. It was ob- served, that the English commanders began gradually to lose the superior good fortune which had attended theii banners. Sir Eustace d'Ambreticour, one of the bravest of the commanders of the Companions, in the service of Eng- land, held at last twelve good fortresses under his com- mand, in different parts of the country, and had at his disposal upwards of seven hundred combatants. He was nevertheless defeated and made prisoner, chiefly by means of another leader of a free company, like his own, called Broquart of Fenestrages, who, on this occasion, was engaged on the part of the French. In other places, 136 TREATY FOR THE RANSOM also tiie dauphin had partial successes, which gradually restored the spirits of the French faction. Still they suffered severely by this n^ode of warfare, a3 appears from the expedition of another celebrated Cap- lain of Companions, called Sir Robert Knolles. * This leader was an Englishman born, of low birth and mean estimation ; but he distinguished himself by his military lai^^nts as a leader of a Free Company. He passed from Bretagne to the river Loire, wasting, burning, and ravag- ing the country, with the avowed purpose of marching to Avignon, where the Pope then resided, and forcing the Holy Father and his cardinals to ransom themselves at a high price. The presence of a considerable French army induced him to alter this intention. He offered them bat- tle, which they declined, and gave them the slip, when they expected to have surrounded him. Sir Robert Knolles acquired by this expedition, and other plunder- ing excursions, the wealth of an earl, and many lands, which he surrendered to King Edward, stinulating only for his own free pardon. But we may here quit the ac- count of tiiese occurrences, with the general observation, that the existence of these independent companies of ad- venturers long continued one of the most rankling griev- ances of the age. In the meantime, the restoration of peace between the nations did not advance, although France suffered so much, and England gained so little, by the continuance of the war. The unfortunate King John of France, of whom we have lately had occasion to speak but little, appears, af- ter his defeat and captivity at Poictiers, to have been in a great measure forgotten by his subjects, although the duty of vassals to pay the ransom of their lord when prisoner, was one of the most sacred obligations of chivalry. Find- ing himself abandoned to his own exertions, he endeav- oured to accommodate his differences with Edward. By an agreement entered into with this prince, King John engaged to surrender Aquitaine, Gascony, Calais, and •ither fiefs, which Edward and his successors were to hold free of homage, or feudal fealty of any kind. The King OF KING JOHN OF FRANCE. 137 of France became fartlier bound to pay four millions of gold crowns in ransom for himself and tlie otlier prisoners taken at Poictiers. King Edward, on the other hand, in consideration of ti)is treaty, agreed to renounce ail claim to the title of King of France, as well as all property in Normandy, and the other provinces not expressly ceded to him by the present articles. Such were the terms on which King John would havo been satisfied to close the war, and to obtain his liberty. King Edward gave his assent to them, as comprehending all he expected to gain by the events of the war, for he must have despaired of all hope of conquering France. But the consent of the Estates-General was essential to the validity of the treaty. This great body, representing the French nation, positively refused to accede to terms by which so great a portion of the kingdom should be surrendered to the English. The consequence was, that the preparations for war were resumed with great animos- ity on both sides. The King of England, on his part, renewed his preparations, and assembled an army of no less than a hundred thousand men. A truce had been made, which was ])rolonged till midsummer 1.359, so that it was the end of the harvest ere Edward III., with this large army, arrived at Calais. In the meantime, the news that Edward was about to renew the war with a view of absolute conquest, had no small influence on the Navarrois party, and even on Charles himself, who became sensible, of a sudden, that any success on Edward's part would bring upon him, in the person of the King of England, a competitor more formidable than he had yet /ound in the lawful regent. He, therefore, to the surprise of all men, renoimced, at least for a time, the factious principles which had hitherto guided him in his intercourse with the dauphin, and made a peace with that prince upon very reasonable and equitable conditions. Philip, the brother of the King of Navnrre, continued to act under the influence of England, and declared, that in making so ill-thned a peace, his 138 SIEGE OF BHEIMS. brother Charles must have been acting under the influ- ence of witchcraft ; indeed, the adoption of moderate of pacific views was, on his part, widely out of character. Eklward III., in the meantime, commenced his march, and, traversing in great order the provinces of Artois and Picardy, he laid siege to the ancient city of Rheims, and it was said that he designed to have liimself crowned there, according to the ancient custom of the kings of France. But the city was gallantly defended. The archbishop encouraged the citizens to stand on their defence, and many noblemen with their followers were also in the place. During this siege, which lasted for three months, the King of Navarre relapsed afresh into his usual per- verse politics, and, on some slight pretext, again broke out into war with the dauphin ; but whatever advanl«ge Edward received from the conduct of this versatile prince, he lost by the rebellion of the Flemings, whom tlie in- trigues of France again diverted to the interest of tnat country. In 1360, (A. D.) Edward found himself obliged tc abandon the siege of Rheims, and drew off his ,army towards the capital of France — a species of insult, or menace repeatedly used by the English during these wars, but with little real effect. The dauphin regent occupied the capital at the head of a numerous army ; but, as on the one hand that prince declined to put the fate of the country upon the dubious issue of another battle, which might in its event have resembled that of Cressy or Poictiers, so, on the other hand, the King of England was too prudent to attempt the assault of a larg'3 city garrisoned by a numerous army. King Edward theiefore thought it ex pedierft to retreat towards Bretagne to lecruit his forces, while the regent and his council, deeply affected by the scene of desolation which France presented on all sides, saw the necessity of submitting to sue for a peace, however disadvantageous. The king ol England was still averse to relinquish his high pretensions to the crown of France, and it is said that an intervenini; «b mder-storm, or hurricane, which he considered as a PEACE OF BRETIGNY. 139 Epecial sign of tbe displeasure of Heaven against those princes wiio should prolong the war, first bent liis stub- born spirit to accept of peace. But in fact, the successes of Edward had been bought at a price which even the wealth of England could not pay ; and besides exhausting his finances, the events of the late campaign had plainly showed him what he could, and what he could not do. He could march through France without opposition, but this was not subjecting it to his sovereignty ; and a solitary city like Rheims was, if determined on resistance, sufficient to arrest his pro- gress. Tlie issue of the Scottish wars may have taught tliis great warrior the difference between overrunning a country and subjugating it : and the readiness with which a poor and small nation vindicated its independence, might teach him the impossibility of subduing France, so much more populous and wealthy than Scotland — if, like her, she was determined to defend her liberty — and that such was her resolution, the siege of Rheims made manifest. The conqueror was therefore taught to prefer the possession of Gascony in complete sovereignty, out of which in time a permanent possession might be formed, to a protracted war, in the vain hope that any subse- quent victory could do more than those of Cressy or Poictiers. Edward, therefore, instead of persevering in his attempt to conquer the kingdom of Fiance, determined to remain for the present satisfied with possesssi-ng Gascony, tliai portion of it which was ceded to him in full sovereignty. He should thus, he hoped, secure one compact a-nd per- manent possession, while he had free access to invade France by means of Calais, and was thus ready to avail himself of such opportunities of farther conquest as might arise. Still farther to secure his dominions in Gascony, the King of England erected them into a principality, creat- ed the Black Prince his lieutenant and representative lliere, confident that, by the courage and wisdom which 40 PEACE OF BRETIGNT. Ills son bad so often displayed, he could not in any way provide so well for their goveinment and safety. The articles of peace were, of course, favourable to Eiigland, to wlioni the King of France relinquished, in full superiority, the provinces of Gascony, with various other dependencies in Aquitaine ; and in the north of France, the town of Calais and earldom of Guisnes. In exchange, King Edward renounced all title to the crown and kingdom of France, and all claims to Normandy, Touraine, Anjou, and Maine. Upon these conditions the peace of Bretigny was founded, wiiich was most acceptable to the subjects of both crowns, though not agreeable in all respects to either of the kin2;s themselves. Difficulties arose concerning the surrender of some part of the territory and castles yielded to the English ; and the higli-spirited noblemen who there held fiefs, did not understand being transferred, like a flock of sheep, from the allegiance of one sovereign lo another. Many Gascon knights refused to exchange the sovereignty of France for that of England. France^ they said, might herself dispense with their faith and homage, but slie had no right to substitute a strange king in her place. These difficulties suspended the benefits expected from the peace. The Dukes of Anjou and Berri, with the Dukes of Orleans and of Bourbon, still remained hostages in England, for payment of the ran- som stipulated for the prisoners of Poictiers. These princes obtained, on their solicitation, permission to pass to Calais, under pretence that they might be able to fur- nish the means of concluding the disputed points of the treaty. Instead of doing so, the Duke of Anjou took the opportunity of abusing this indulgence, and made l)is e.icape into France. King John had been set at liberty when he first came to an understanding with Edward, and had returned to France accordingly. But ne was deeply hurt and offended at what he considered thr. disiionourable conduct of bis son, and took tlie generous resolution of restoring to the English their full security for the ransom, by surrendering DEATH OF KING JOHN. 141 {lis own person once more into their hands. To such of his counsellors as would have cautioned him against this step, he firmly replied, that, " if faith and loyalty were banished from the rest of the world, they ought still to remain enshrined in the hearts of kings." Tl)e generous feeling expressed in this noble sentiment, seems to show that John of France deserved better for- tune than that which had followed him during his whole life, and now accompanied him to th-e grave. A very short time after his return to England, John was seized with an indisposition, of which he died in the Savoy : and his son Charles, who had undergone so r.iany diffi- culties as regent, now mounted the throne in the capacity sf king, carrying with him to that eminence all the ex- perience which many years of difficulty and misfortune had enabled him to attain, and which has procured I'oi him in French annals the well-deserved e'pithet of the Wise. (April 8, A. D. 1364 ) 964 142 WAR IN NORMANDY. CHAPTER VIII. IVar in JVormandy — Battle of Cockerel — War in Bre* tagne, betiveen the Jidherents of De Montfort and D( Blois — Battle of Aurai — Financial Di^cidties oj Charles of France — Sumptuary Laws — Free Com- panions — Charles's Plan for removing them from France — Their Leader Du Gvesclin marches upon Avignon, and exacts a Fine from the Pope — he next engages in a War against Don Pedro the Cruel, King of Castile, and drives him from his Kingdom — Pedro solicits Assistance from the Black Prince, and is by him r.e-instated in his Dominions — Du Gueschn- having been taken Prisoner, is ransomed — Tax upon Chimneys, called Fouage, imposed in Gascony by tht Black Prince, to defray the Expenses of his Castilian Expedition — Unpopularity of this Tax. Charles of France, the fifty-first monarch of that kingdom, took up the affairs of his government in an in- volved and confused state. The dispute concerning Bre- tagne was not yet determined, and disturbances continued in Normandy between the Navarrois and the French par- tisans, the last of which parties were headed in a great measure by a valiant Breton knight, called Bertrand du Guesclin, to whose courage France owed much during the present reign. The Navarrois, on the other hand, were commanded by the Captal of Buche, already men- tioned in this narative. These two heroic leaders joined battle near Cocherel, in Normandy, with equal valour and skill, and the action is more particularly taken notice of on account of the merit of the leaders, and because for- tune was on the side of the French, being the first ac- tion since Cressy, in which that nation had been victori- ous. The Navarrois were completely defeated, and their stout commander, the Captal of Buche, fell into the 8ATTLK OF AURA . 143 hands of the conquerors. He was received with great distinction by King Charles, who would have bestowed upon him an earldom, had the Black Prince permitted the Captal to accept of it. This was a fortunate commencement of King Charles's reigii ; but it was not without its reverse in Bretagne. King Charles of France had sent tl)e aid of a thousand lances to Sir Charles de Blois, in order to strengthen his party in Bretagne, while Edward had despatched the Lord Chandos with an equal number, to support the cause of the Earl de Montfort, son of John de Montfort, and of his heroic countess, remarkable for her defence of Hen- nebon. These inveterate enemies, De Blois and De Montfort, finally encountered each other near the town of Aurai. Friends on both sides endeavoured to accom- modate the matter betwixt the contending nobles, but in vain ; each declaring himself resolved to peril their long- depending and long-disputed claims upon the event of that day. Tliey approached each other with slowness and caution, calculated to give an idea of the desperate resolution which each had adopted, to fight this long- protracted quarrel, concerning the sovereignty of Bre- tagne, for the last time, and to the last extremity. Chandos, who had the chief command of the army of the Count de IMontfort, divided his forces into three bat- talions, allotting to Sir Hugh Calverley, an English knight of great renown, the command of the rear-guard, or rather the reserve. This valiant champion, who was a man of distinguished courage, remonstrated against this arrantjement. as it was his wish to fihus replied, " Is it even so ? Does our fair uncle desire to see us at Paris ? Gladly will we go thither ; but I assure you, sirs, it shall be with basnet on our head, and sixty thousand m(;n in our company." Perceiving his resentment, the mes- sengers dropt on their knees, and reminded him, that for their part, they only did the message of him who sent them. The prince, however, left them in indignation ; and they were counselled by the English lords then present to depart as fast as they could, lest their safety should be endangered. In fact, when the news of the departure of the envoys reached the prince, he sent after and arrested them, as being, he ^said, the messengers of his own discontented subjects of Gascony, rather than of the King of France. They suffered, however, notlnng eventually ; but tiie prince retained his purpose of mak- ing instant war against France ; while the French king, on the other hand, strengthened himself, as was usual at thai period, by hiring a certain number of the Free Com' 965 156 CHARLES AND THE BLACK PRINCE panions, and, secure of the assistance of the numerous malecontents in the Gascon provinces, laid aside all thouglits of peace, and prepared for a war against Eng- land, under auspices more fortunate than those under which France had lately fought. Charles in this approaching contest had the infinite advantage of the general assent of his people, who, fired with the reviving hope of national glory and independ- ence, pledged themselves to support, with their lives and fortunes, the quarrel with England, in which he was now about to engage. The peace, wliich had now lasted a considerable lime, had also greatly diniinisiied the forces at the command of Edward 111. and his son the Black Prince. The Free Companies, which might be consid- ered as something corresponding to a standing army of the period, had been, owing to the want of money, dis- missed from the pay of England, and in a great measure disbanded, or sent to find employment elsewhere. The feudal troops and archery of England herself, whom it would have been difficult or impossible to detain in Gas- 3ony or France for any length of time, after the war was at an end, had returned to their native country, and it would require new efforts and new expenditure of treasure to recall them to the field when their services were most necessary. On the other hand, the whole kingdom of France was replenished with a rising generation, who had neither experienced the terrors of the former English victories, nor felt any thing save the desire to be avenged of their invaders. Charles himself might, indeed, remember the disasters of Cressy and Poictiers ; but lie had at the same time the satisfaction to know that Edward 111. was now in an advanced old age, embarrassed, too, by the discon- tent of his subjects, who were unwilling to submit to farther assessments for the support of foreign war, and by the increasing indisposition of the Black Prince, whose body could no longer execute the dictates of his daunt- less mind, and who had, moreover, to lament the loss of so many brave men, cut off in Spain, less by war than PREPARE FOU WAR. 159 by wasting disease. On the whole, therefore, the King of France was prepared, with good hopes, once more to revive tiie bloody war which had so long wasted his king- dom. Nor did the commencement of the struggle deceive his expectations. Yet the spirit of Prince Edward flinched not under the infirmity of his body. He purposed, as we have al- ready hinted, to take the field in person, and advance to Paris, at the head of a numerous army. His father had again influence enough with his parliament, to obtain large subsidies, and levy a considerable army, which he despatched to the assistance of the Prince of Wales, under the command of the Earl of Cambridge, his brother, and the gallant John Hastings, Earl of Pem- broke, his brotiier-in-law. The Black Prince received also a powerful reinforcement from the Grand Compa- nies, who, as their trade was war, were naturally deter- mined in their choice of a side, by their reliance on the military qualities of the commander-in-chief, for skill, valour, generosity and success, and certainly there was no man alive who could in these respects be termed the equal of the Prince of Wales. Sir Hugh Calverley, whose deeds at the battle of Aurai have been already noticed, was devotedly attached to his native prince ; and, by his interest among the Free Companions, he collected in Spain and elsewhere, six thousand lances of this descrip- tion, whom the prince, perhaps hastily, sent instantly forward, to make war on the territories of such of the great Gascon barons as had set an example in revolting against ihefouage, or tax upon chimneys, and, as Prince Edward supposed, had busied themselves in exciting King Charles to summon him before the parliament of Paris. But although the prince was thus far armed against the impending evil, the schemes of Charles., for under- tnining the English power in France, were so skilfully laid, that they took effect with considerable success. The jiroviiice of Ponthieu was seized upon without much op- position, an acquisition rendered easy by the intrigues 160 THE WAR COMMENCED. carried on by the friends of France in that district. The Dukes of Anjou and Berri, brothers of the king, each at the head of a considerable army, the one levied in Au- vergne, the other in Toulouse, were ready to in"vade the provinces of Gascony and Poitou ; and for some time it was difficult to say which party obtained the ascendency, so many were the feats of valour, skirmishes, and cap- tures of castles, and so various was the success attending each of them. In another species of warfare the King of France had perhaps a more decided advantage. This was in the original character of the dispute, the justice of which was warmly debated by the gownsmen and churchmen on both sides. In this King Edward revived his old claim to the kingdom of France, founded upon his denying the efBcacy of the Salic law ; an antiquated plea, renounced by himself at the peace of Bretigny, and which he would certainly have done better to have abandoned for ever, and limited his claim to the rights of sovereignty in Poi- tou and Guienne, which had been acknowledged in all formality by the King of France himself, and by the es- tates of that kingdom. In the former case, Edv^ard III. claimed the succession in right of his mother, which had never been acknowledged by the law of France. On the contrary, in preferring a claim of sovereignty to Gas- cony, and its dependencies only. King Edward would only have founded upon the terms of an existing treaty, solicited by Charles himself, while regent, and by the estates of his kingdom. Edward III., however, chose ro enlarge, as much as possible, the title on which he founded, being conscious that men would regard it less with reference to its justice and validity, than to thejr own passions and partialities. Be that as it may, the clergy of France were generally decidedly favourable tc the cause of their native sovereign ; and there can be nc doubt that the manner in which they recommended and enforced upon the public the right of Charles, in the iV\frerent provinces possessed by the English, had a great effect in producing tlie general disposition to revolt from DKATll OF LORD JAMES AUOLEr. 161 the English to the French monarch, which was every- where inanifested. It was with sharper weapons, how- ever, than words, that the cause of either king wa.^^ to be finally determined, and accordingly, blood flowed iVeely on botli sides, in every county of France where the English had any footing. What appeared in particular to intimate the doom of Heaven against the cause of England, was the death of some of those remarkable persons by whose assistance the Black Prince had often gained his victories, but who now were, by various, and some of them insignificant ac- tions, compared to the reputations of those to whom they happened, altogether removed from the scene, when their services would have been most advantageous to their great commander. One of the most remarkable persons, and equally dis- tinguished by valour and talents, was Lord James Aud- iey. Seneschal of Poitou, who fell sick and died, while the war was at the hottest. This was the son of that Loid James Audley, whose conduct at the battle of Poic- tiers was so remarkable. His father was now too old for the wars, arid had retired into England, where he died in 1386. The death of Lord James Audley, the younger, greatly grieved the Prince of Wales, who replaced him, as Seneschal in Poitou, by the celebrated John Chandos. As this brave leader was an active partisan in that kind of warfare which distinguished the period, he proposed to the young Earl of Pembroke to join with him in an expedition, at the head of a very considerable force, against Louis of Sancerre, Mareschal of France. But the-tjarl of Pembroke declined to join Chandos in the enterprise proposed to him, listening to the paltry insinu- ations of some flatterers, who persuaded him he would have little share of personal glory if he went out under the command of Chandos, who would engross the 'vhole renown of any joint expedition in which they niiL'iit be engaged. Sir John Chandos, piqued at Pembroke's re- L62 pembuoke's jealousy of chandos. fusal to join him, dismissed great part of his troops, and retired with the rest to the city of Poictiers. No sooner had Chandos thus retired into quarters, than t!ie Earl of Pemhroke, with a force of at least two hun- dred spears, took the field, with the purpose of winning glory upon his own account, and wasting the lands of those nobles who were hostile to England. As soon as the French lords who held these garrisons, heard that this nobleman had declined the company of Lord Chan- dos, and was come abroad on his own adventure, tliey resolved to gather their forces, and attack him suddenly, as a young man whose imprudence had already shown him liable to be surprised in such expeditions. They combined, therefore, an overpowering force, and attacked the Earl of Pembroke and his men at unawares, near a village called Puyrenon, slaying a number of men-at- arms, and forcing the rest to take refuge in a churchyard, which surrounded a building formerly belonging to the Knights Templars. The French knights, conmianded by the INlareschal ! this renowned warrior ; and we regret to trace in it so much of the cruelty of the period, and so little of its generosity. We have only farther to mention, that ift the beginning of the next year, the Black Prince had the great misfortune of losing his eldest son, and, his own illness increasing, he was determined to fry what his native air might avail for his recovery. He substituted his brother, the Duke of Lancaster, to be his representative in the principality of Aquitaine ; and he left for ever the country in which he himself had gained so much glory, and upon which he had inflicted such extensive calami- ties. This great prince died at Westminster, on the Sth day of June, 1376 ; ^nd his father, exhausted by age, and various causes of mortiBcation which overclouded his iast years, did not long survive him. Edward 111. died on the 21st of June, 1377, in the sixty-fifth year of his age. In resuming our story, we shall have to mention circumstances which happened before the date of his death. While fate was thus removing the two greatest enemies of France, the king of that country was exerting himself, by the best means, the promotion, namely, of merit and worth, to provide for the protection of his reahn. An office, always most important, but at this lime particularly so, had become vacant in 1370 ; this w'as the situation of Constable of France, the highest military dignity in that kingdom, of the most important consequence, from the power which it conferred, and especially when the king, whicl) might be said of Charles V., was not warlike in his person, or in the habit of heading his armies. The vacancy was occas'oned by the resignation of a good knight, named Moreau de Fionness, who was become, by age and infirmities, unfit to discharge the duties of the office, which he therefore resigned intt the king's hands It had been the custom to bestow this high office on per sons of the most eminent rank ; but, by the uni versa, suffi-ages of his kingdom, Charles now resolved to confei so important a charge, with reference less to the dignit^i OFFICE OF CONSTABLE OF FRANCE. 171 than the worth of the person to be employed. On this footing-, all eyes were tinned to Bertrand dii Guesclin, as the most valiant knight, the most expert leader, the mo3t fortunate and successful warrior, who fought under the banners of France. Nay, since the Black Prince was imable to bear armour, he was universally considered as the best general living. Du Guesclin, sunnnoned to the king's presence, rode from the district of the Limosin to Paris accordingly ; but when he heard that the king, with full assent of all his nobles and peers, had pitched upon him to be Cotistable of France, he modestly stated his inca[)acily for such an important office, and the difficulty which he, a poor knight, must expect in making himself obeyed by the great and powerful princes of France. The king's reso- lution was taken upon too good grounds to be evaded by this modest plea ; he insisted upon the charge being ac- cepted by the warrior who had shown himself most capa- ble of bearing it. Du Guesclin then asked to limit his acceptance with a condition, that in case complaints should be brought against him, the king should deign to refuse credence to any which the informer was not ready to vouch in presence of the accused ; a reasonable request, which was readily granted. But although a distinguished warrior was thus invested with full military command in France, there were still circumstances affecting in a great degree the welfare of the kingdom, the consideration and decision of which the king reserved for himself. Greatly as that wise prince esteemed Du Guesclin, he saw danger in the Constable's suffering bis high ideas of chivalry to lead him into the error of precipitating a general engagement, by which France had so often suffered, and which was at all times too deep a stake to be hastily adventured. He there- fore resolved, while he resigned to the Constable the unlunUed direction of the French army, that he would suffer him at no time to possess a force so strong as might encourage him to venture a battle on a large scale, trust- ing that when he fought upon a small one, his knowledge 178 X)U GUESCLIN CONSTABLE OF FRANCE. of war could not be excelled, if, indeed, it. was equalled, by that of any of llie English leaders. This restriction tlie king reserved within his own breast. To have ex- pressed it, might have implied distrust of his general, and still more of his soldiers. He therefore readily ac- ceded to the new constable's proposal, to ride after Sir Robert Knolles ; yet it is said, furnished him with no more men than should enable him to watch tije enemy, but not to bring him to aclion. But tlie faithful Du Guesclin augmented his forces, by treasure of his own, and for that purpose sold a number of rich jewels and other articles of value. The time, indeed, was very favourable for an attack upon the army of Knolles, This commander, as you have been already informed, had marciied to the gates of Paris, witliout being able to strike a considerable blow, so that many of the men of rank who served with him, were dis- posed to be discontented with their commander's author- ity. It had been his purpose to lead his arniy into the duchy of Bretagne, as the safest place for winter quar- ters, considering that there would be then a necessity for dividing themselves into separate bodies, when an active enemy like Du Guesclin might, in the opinion of the experienced general, attack them with advantage. Lord Grandison, Lord Fitzwalter, and other English nobles, refused to retire into Bretagne, in obedience to Sir Rob- ert Kr.olles. He was of too mean rank^ they said, to command noblemen like themselves ; they therefore drew oft' from his army, which was thus much weakened, and quartered themselves in the marches of Anjou and Tou- raine, not holding such communication as martial duties required, but straggling separate, each leader according to his own pleasure. While disunion was thus gaining ground amono- the Eng- lish, and want of discipline arising in proportion, Ber- tiand du Guesclin obtained news of all their proceedings from a traitorous kniglit, called Sir John Menstreworth, R"ho privately corresponded with the French, and found an opportunit} of discov^-ing to them a very important TREACHERY OF MENSTREWOR TH. 179 secret. The new constable, with his forces, had already advanced on an enlei'prise against Sir Robert Knolies, then in quarters in Bretagne. The artful Knolies was re- joiced to hear of his approach, resolving within himself that he would assemble secretly and suddenly the troops who had lately left iiis standard, and thus collect a body of forces witli which h.e could not doubt that he would be able to overpower Du Guesclin, and his party. Lord Grandison, Lord Fitzwalter, and the other discontented nobles, received therefore private instructions to repair tc the camp of Sir Robert Knolies, for the accomplishment of this purpose ; and as the orders intimated the approach of battle, none of them hesitated to obey the sununons. On the other side. Sir Robert called to his assistance Sir Hugh Calverley, and other captains of the Companions. All this plan, and these summonses, were known to the treacherous Sir John Menstreworth, and by Inm comnm- nicated to the Constable of France, who resolved, by his active movements, to prevent the plan of the E'nglish general, and strike a blow at the forces out of which Knolies proposed to form his army, while they were yel separated from the main body, p^or this ))urpose, aware of the march of Grandison, Fitzwalter, and their party, the constable contrived to meet them at a place called Pont Volant, half way before they could join with Knolies, and attacking them with nearly double their numbers, reduced them soon to extrenuty. The English, however, alighting from horseback, defended themselves for some time manfully on foot, with swords, s|)ears, and bntlle-axes. They could not, however, long endure so unequal a combat ; and as their pages, who held their horses, fled with them so soon as the day was lost, the principal part of the nobles eniraired remained on tho spot, either slain or prisonei's. This blow, which enve the greatest spirit to the French, seemed proportionaHy discouraging to the English ; and, as it happened so re- cently after Du Guesclin had become constable, it gained bim honour in the eyes of the king, and of the nation, as affording an earnest of his important services. The in>- 60 EXECUTION OF >TENSTREWORTH. nediato consequence of the defeat of the Engliin at Pont Volant was, that Sir Robert Knolles, ahea^y pre- judiced in King Edward's opinion for having taker* rewards for sparir g the country of France, fell into such suspicion, that he liesitated for some time to trust himself within the bounds of Britain. But the treason of Sir John INlenstreworih becoming public, the explanations of the veteran Knolles were favourably received ; and as the real traitor fell into the hands of the l^ritish, and was executed for his perfidy, Knolles became entirely re- stored to King Edward's lavour. The Constable of France did not long slumber after his success at Pont Volant, but taking the field again at Candlemas, seized many fortresses, and with prevailing, though by no means uniforui good fortune, carried on the war in Guienne and the neighbouring counties. The Duke of Lancaster now supported at Bourdeaux a princely state, not inferior to that of the Black Prince himself, whom he resembled in courage and pride, though he was unequal to him in good fortune, or rather in that military science, by which good fortune is in a great mea- sure secured or improved. An alliance of his also, though the duke was naturally led into it by what seemed the voice of prudence, and was certainly that of ambition, contributed to force him into the false line of policy ado|it- ed by tlse Black Prince himself. Don Pedro the Cruel, who died by the hand of his brother King Henry, before the Castle of Montiel, as we have already stated, left be- hind him two daughters, the eldest of whom was undoubt- edly heir to his kingdom of Castile. These orphan |irin- cesses were now residing in Gascony, pledges for a sum of money which had been borrowed by their fatb.er. John of Gaunt was now in the flower of his age, a w id- ower, by the death of his wife the late Lady Blanche ; and, flattered by the splendid title of King of Castile, to which he aspired, he gave his hand to the eldest of these unfortiuiate princesses, while the second was wedded" a< the same time to his brother the Duke of Cambridge. B) this unhappy step, the Duke of Lancaster added tc DEFEAT OF THE ENGLISH FLEET 181 tiic dlfticulties arising from the French war, so many and -su numerous in tliemselves, the gloomy prospect of a qiiaiTei with Henry the King of Castile, who became in consequence a very violent and dangerous enemy to England, which was not long in experiencing the effects of his enmity. In 137 J, the Duke of Lancaster, having returned to England with his royal bride, the Earl of Pembroke was appointed to sail as commander-in-chief of the English forces to the principality of Aquitaine. He had a fleet of forty ships, having on boai'd a considerable body of troops, witl) supplies of money and ammunition essen- tially requisite to the support of the sinking cause of England in the south of France. Thus provided, he sailed for Rochelle ; but as he approached that place, he was encountered by a powerful fleet belonging to Henry of Transtamara, the actual King of Castile, who was called upon imperiously to espouse the cause of the French, the Duke of Lancaster having in riglu of his wife the princess Constance, laid claim to his kingdom. (A. D. 1372, June 23.) The two navies of England and Spain encountered fiercely with each other, and the combat endured until the evening of the second day, when the Spaniards obtained a complete victory. lE is said this superiority was owing not only to the size of the Spanish vessels, which were larger than those of the English, but to the use of cannon on the part of the for mer — a weapon for the first time made use of in naval war. The greatest part of the English fleet was burnt, taken, or sunk ; and the Earl of Pembroke, often alrea- dy mentioned, son-in-law to Edward 111., remained, with many other knights of quality, prisoners of war to the Spaniards. Such were the first evil fruits flowing from the (uarriage of John of Gaunt with the daughter of Don Pedro the Cruel. The failure of this attempt to send supplies to Guienne, left that province, with all parts ol the principality of Aquitaine, wellnigh at the absolute pleasure of the Constable du Guesclin, who alternately 183 SURRENDER OF ROCHELLE. by address and by arms, took and garrisoned many places of strength, some with very little resistance, others with none at all. The case of Rochelle may be mentioned as an instance how much the feelings of the Gascon people were now turned against their late masters the English, Shortly alter the naval battle which we have already mentioneJ, and which was fought off this harbour, the mayor of Ro- chelle, one John Chaudron, moved no doubt, by the issue of tlie battle and defeat of the English, contrived a mode of surrendering that important seaport to the King of France. The English, however, had still a garrison in the castle, of which Philip Mansel, an uneducated man of no peculiar sagacity, was. the temporary governor. The mayor having secured a parfy of burgesses in his plot, undertook to circumvent the thick-headed com- mander of tlie citadel. He invited Mansel to a civic feast, where he exhibited a letter und-er the broad seal of England, (one of an old date,) shrewdly suspecting that the governor could not read a word of it. " You per- ceive from this letter," said the mayor, boldly exhibiting it to the ignorant governor, " that the king has command- ' ed the garrison of the castle and that of the city, to be altel-nately reviewed by the commanders of each ; where- fore 1 will make my musters to-morrow, if it pleases you to review them ; and you, if it please you, shall bring your force out of the castle, that 1 may inspect them in my turn in the manner here appointed." The incautious Mansel, affecting to believe and under- stand words which had no existence in the letter, was in- duced to bring his men out of the castle towards the field wjiere the rendezvous was to be held. The mayor, see- ing the stratagem sc far successful, interposed a strong body of armed citizens between the garrison and the castle-gate, and compelled them to lay down their arms. It was probably by t!ie patriotism of this mayor of Ro- chelle, that the city thus won from the English by tho Courage or ingenuit\ of the citizens, was not surrendered SIEGE OF THOUARS. 183 CO the French crown absolutely, but only unde stipula- non that the citizens of Rochelle should have leave to demolish the castle, and be secured against the election of another ; also, that the}' should never be separated or alienated fi-oin the kingdom of France ; and thirdly, that they should be allowed to coin money upon the same conditions on which tlie privilege was enjoyed by the city of Paris. Tlie strong town of Poictiers also augmented the tri- umphs of tlie gallant constable. A skirmish shortly after took place of little impoi-tance in itself, but of considera- ble weight from its consequences. The Lord de Greilly, renowned in our former history byname of the Captal d(j Buche, and often mentioned on account of his gallantry, was made prisoner, and, as a captive of great consequence, was speedily despatched to Paris. His worth and char- acter in" war were not better known, than the constant fidelity with which he had served the cause of the Eng- lish. The King of France, therefore, followed the pol- icy which the Prince of Wales was thought to have adopted respecting Bertrand Du Guesclin, when the lat- ter was made prisoner at the battle of Navarette, that is. he would not fix any ransom upon the unfortunate war- rior, who died in the course of five years an unredeemed captive. Authors have said that the Captal, as a firm adherent of Edward and of the Black Prince, lost his healtli and spirits upon their decease, and pined to death of melancholy in bis confinemeiit. In the meantime, the last post possessed by the English in Gascony was the town of Thouars, then a place of con- siderable strength. The constable speedily formed the siege of the place, and pressed it on with such vigour, that the English lords who were enclosed in it, consisting of the noblest and best of those partisans whom the nunie- rous skirmishes and sieges had left, were contented to come to a species of terms not unusual at that time. They engaged to surrender against next Michaelmas, provided that the King of England, or one of his sons, should not before that time bring them succour in person. 184 SURRENDER OF THOUARS. Edward, to whorn this agreement was communicated, expressed liiinself liiiilily incensed, that a prince-so un- tv^ariike as Charles of France, who was seldom seen with armour on his back, or a lance in his hand, shotdd give him so fnuch more trouble tlian ail his martial predeces- sors, and once more swore to take the field in person, with the purpose, not only of relieving Thenars, but of invading, and finally conquering France. The king put to sea accordingly, with a considerable army, his destina- tion being the seaport of Rochelle ; but the winds and waves were obstinately adverse to the course he pro- posed ; and, after a desperate struggle, King Edward, to whom fortune had been so long favourable by land and sea, saw himself absolutely obliged to return to England, without relieving the fortress, Thouai-s was therefore left to its fate. The barons of Guienne, who remained faithful to England, ofFefed in- deed, at tiie very last, to advance with twelve liundred spears to the relief of this important place, provided the besieged would accept of their assistance. But the knights enclosed within the town had plighted their faith to surrender to the constable, usiiess Edward, or one of bis sons, came in person to their relief. Thenars, tliere- fore, was given up to the French, on the terms of the treaty. The cause of England in France being at this low ebb, the King of France thought he might very safely take the opportunity to avenge himself upon the Count de ]\]ontfort, Duke of Brefagne, whose father had been one of the principal instigators in fostering the original war between England and France. The prince at whom be aimed this blow was, indeed, already wellnigh forced from his dominions by two of his own subjects, the Con- stable du Guesclin, and Oliver de Clisson, both steady- adherents of the French, 'and equally inimical to the Enirlish. Having gained this great advantage over John de Montfort, Charles resolved to pay no attention to the neutrality secured to him by a special article of the treaty ^f Bretigny. But, disregarding this engagement, he de- THE ENGLISH INVADE BRETAGNE 185 termined not to permit a person so hostile to liim to reign as a petty sovereign in Bretagne, and accordingly drove liiiii out of his own country, and obliged him to take reliige in England. Edward, however, on the arrival ot his ally and relative, in this expatriated condition, was not wanting in such exertions as might have a chance of repairing tlie sinking affairs of the Duke of Bretagne. He raised an army of fifty thousand men, which, under the command of the Duke of Lancaster, landed at Ca- lais, in summer, 1372, with the purpose, on the duke's part, of emulating his father's deeds, restoring the Engfish affairs, and replacing tlie Duke of Bretagne in his govern- ment. But, as was tlie fate of all Edward llTs. latter expe- ditions, no result follow^ed worthy of such great preparations. The Duke of Lancaster sallied from Calais, at the head of his army. He had with him the Earls of War- wick, Stafford, Suffolk, with Lord Edward Spencer, riiey march.ed with precaution, being closely watched by three armies of the French, one commanded by the Duke of Burgundy, one by the Duke of Bourbon, a third, con- sisting chieHy of cavalry, headed by the indefatigable Du Guesclin, which followed in the rear of the English, cut- ting off all who strayed frou) their standard ; and, thus enclosed and observed, the English could make little spoil upon the country, without exposing themselves to uistant retaliation. Their generals, too, differed in opinion. John de Montfort pressed the Duke of Lancaster to lead his troops into Bretagne, insisting that the reconquest of his duchy was tlie chief object of the war. The Duke of Lancas- ter, on the other hand, was determined to march to Bour- deaux, to establish the English power in Gascony. Vic accordingly j)recipitated his course to Bourdeaux, and at length reached that .city, but not without losing four-lifthi: of his army in a hurried and disastrous march . thither. Nor were the Duke of I5retagne and the Duke of lian- caster ever afterwards on the same footing of good un- derstanding which once subsisted between them IS6 DEATH OF UU GUESCLIN. King Charles, perceiving the dissension between the Duke of Bretagne and his powerful ally, thought the time was favourable to his great object of uniting to the crown the duchy of Bretagne, whose sea coasts, and the friendship of its sovereigns, had so often afforded facility to invasions from England. He accordingly proposed the forfeiture of this powerful vassal to the Estates of France, and obtained their sentence to that elTect, But the Breton lords, altliough unfriendly to the Duke's Eng- lish aliiance, were attached to their independence, and to tlie De Montfort family. Instead of confirming them in their love for France, by uniting them with the empire, Charles provoked their resentment by this attempt at confiscation. The nobles of Bretagne returned to the allegiance of their duke, and readily assembling in arms, drove the French out of the bounds of the dukedom, and invited home John de Montfort from his exile in England. The issue of these events belongs to the next reign. A truce had concluded the bloodshed of this war for a period of one year. King Charles himself was taken ill, with little hope of recovery. An incident occurred which tended to sadden, in no small degree, the thouglits of his dying bed. This was the death of the valiant Du Guesclin, who held, by the king's personal choice, with so much advantage to the country, and glory to himself, the baton of High Con- stable of France. He had been employed in the war in Bretagne, and still more recently in that of Guienne •, and had in botli conducted himself with the same gal- lantry and success which he had all along exhibited. 'J'he last act of liis life was laying siege to the Chateau Neuf du Randun. He had summoned the fortress, in terms which were boldly but lespectfully answered by the commandant. On his refusal to surrender, Du Gues- clin pitched his tent before the place, and pressed it by a close siege. It is said, with little probability, that the melancholy inspired by the obstinacy of the resistance, first brought on disease in this great captain. Bertrand Du Guesclin must, however, have been too well acquaint- CHARACTER OF DU GUESCLIV. 1 S7 ed with the chances of war, to feel, as a great misfoitiinej the prolonued opijosition of a petty fortress. He fell ill, however, frum whatever cause, and became speedily- conscious that he was u))on his death-bed. Willing to expend his last spark of life in the service of the country to which it had been dedicated, Du Guesclin sent ihe conunandant of Chateau Neuf du Randun, a positiv^e summons to surrender the place instantly, if he desired to profit by his intercessions with the King of France in his favour. The commandant, moved by the resolute and severe tone in which this messaL^e was delivered, de- clared he would deliver the keys of his fortress to the Constable of France, but to no leader of inferior degree. He was conducted, therefore, to the tent of Du Gues- clin ; but he was no longer alive ; and the conunandant was comj)elle(l to lay the emblems of submission at the feet of a lifeless corpse. Thus died, in the very act of reconquering the dis- memliered provinces of his country, a champion than whom the rolls of history contain lew braver or more successful. Du Guesclin was not exempted from the evil qualities of the time, for his valour was occasionally sul- lied by cruelty : but his rise from ordinary rank to great- nc-.^s, was the effort of his own high talents, and, employed as they were in the service of his country, those talents could not be too much admired or praised. It was not his least merit that all the liberal donations of land and treasure confei-red on him by the king-were uniforndy applied by him to the public service ; so that Charles, though conscious what he owed to this great and success- ful general, could hardly devise the means of affording him a recompense for his services. To fill up the vacancy occasioned by his death. King Charles recommended to his council, that Oliver de Clisson, Guesclin's friend and companion in arms, a Breton, loo. like himself, should be appointed to succeed him. Meantime, thougdi now urTected by disease, certainly incurable, whatever was its origin, Charles V. still studied the great purpose of his am* bition. vvhicli was the re-union of France into one klu^docn. 188 DEATH OF CHARLES OF NAVARRE. This desirable object l:ad met with a great obslacle in the Kitijj; of JVavarre, Cliarle-s the Bad. Tliis prince had claims, as he pretended, upon tlie crown of France it self; and, besides, lie was entitled to various jiosstssions in several parts of that kingdom, but especially in Nor- mandy. To dispossess him of these was tiie object of King ('harles V's. dying policy ; he revived, therefore, against the King of Navarro an accusation of iiigh trea- son, as having administered poison to tlie royal person of his liege lord. This,' as a high feutial delinquency, necessarily inferring the forfeiture of tlie fief, had been reserved as a charge againsi Navarre, when the tims of making such an accusation with eiitjct should at leogth arrive. The noxious draught was said to have been so potent, that Charles V. lost his hair and his nails, anc re- tained to the end of his life the marks of having tf.ken \)oison. Yet though \ari()us other points of discussion had arisen between the ])rinces, and more than one truce had been entered into, the afliiir was never judicially brought forward, until the expulsion of the English from so UKUiy places of importance in France had rendered any rebellion of Charles of Navarre of less consequence. The wicked jjiince was deprived, by a sentence of the Estates, of such dominions as he still held in France. His being condemned in this celebrated process, renders it seldom necessary to mention him hereafter ; wherefore, we anticipate the course of time, to narrate, in this place, the lujrrible death by which he closed an existence, which was but a tissue of crimes. Continuing his course of viciotis habits as a man, and political intrigues as a prince, till he was full sixty years old, tlie difficulties which Charles the Bad had incurred in tiie v.'ars between Spain, England and France, obliged this prince to demand a heavy capitation tax from his subjects of Navai're. He proposed that the wea.thy in- iiabitants shoukl pay ten francs, inferior persons five, and the rest of his subjects one franc each. The deputies representing tlie dillerent bodies and towns of the king- dom of Navarre assured him, that as they were not yei DEATH OF CHARLES THE WISE. 189 acijuitted of a tax formerly laid upon them, they were not able to endure tliis new imposition, and therefore conjured him to have mercy on his suhjects. By way of answer to these remonstrances, Charles caused the deputies to he enclosed in a strong-walled garden, where he had conferred with them. They were thus strictly confined, and sparingly supplied with meat and drink, while Charles caused tlie heads of three of their number to be struck off, in order to intimidate the others. How this tragedy would otherwise have ended, is uncertain ; for Heaven, in its own time, and by extraordinary means, put an end to this wicked prince's tyranny. The King of Navarre's habits of profligacy had so far reduced his constitution, that he was ordered by the phy- sicians to swathe himself in a vestment steeped in spirit of wine. By the same advice, his bed was warmed with a chauffoir of hot coals ; and he had used these means of recovering natural heat repeatedly without accident. But while he was agitating these cruel resolutions against the deputies of liis subjects, and using this course of bringing himself to warmth, " by the pleasure of God," says Froissart, " or of the devil, the fire caught to his sheets, and from that to his person, swathed as it was in matter highly inflammable." Before he could be res- cued, he was burnt to the bowels, yet survived fifteen days, in indescribable wretchedness. Such was the hor- rible end of the wicked King of Navarre. We return to the purposes of King Charles of France upon his d(;ath-bed. While he meditated and endeav- oured to execute the changes already noticed, his own life was drawing near to a close. He died a victim, it is said, not very probably, to the poison so long before ad- ministered by the King of Navarre ; and his death was felt by the country with deeper regret than that of a sovereign is often regarded. Quiet, sedate, temperate in his passions, viewing clearly, weighing deliberately, and wisely selecting the objects of his policy, Charles nt;ver rashly changed, and rarely ultimately abandoned them. Though born in warlike times, he was himself no wariior ; 967 190 ACCESSION OF CHARLES VI. and this was a fortunate circumstance, since he was never liable to be driven forward by the vehement desire of personal distinction, or the sense of personal shame, which hurried his predecessors, Philip of Valois and John, into the fatal fields of Cressy and Poictiers. CHAPTER XI. Accession of Charles VI., when only twelve years oj age — Regency of the Duke of J^njoii, who seizes the Treasures of Charles V., which he afterwards em- ployed in advancing his otvn claim to the Cfotvn of Sicily and JVaples — An English army under the Duke of Buckingham sent to the assistaiice of Coimt de JWontfort, ivho promises to support them, hut makes a Peace ivith France, and compels his English Allies to evacuate Brciagne — Disorders in Flanders — Insur- rection of the Ghentois, under D^Arteville — The French espouse the part of the Earl of Flanders, and the English that of the Insurgents — Defeat of the Insurgents at Rosebecque — Marriage of Charles VI. — Expedition of the Bishop of JVorivich — the Bishop ivorsted, and compelled to retreat to Calais — Expe- dition of the Duke of Anjou, to establish his claim? to the Throne of JVaples — his Failure, and Death — Adventures of tivo Captains of Free Companions, Geoffrey Tete-noir and Amergot Marcell — Unsuccess- ful Attempt of the Duke of Lancaster to conquer Castile, the crown of which he claimed in right of his Wife, the daughter of Don Pedro the Cruel — Wreck fa French Fleet assembled in the Harbour of Sluyse for the Invasion of England — Arrest of Oliver de Ciisson, Constable of France, by the Duke of Bre- tagne — his Imprisonment, and Ransom. Unfortunately for the kingdom of France, the suc- cessor of Charles the Wise, who was also named Charles. ANJOU APPOINTED REGENT 191 oeing the sixth king so called, was at this time only twelve years old : and there was a necessit}'^ for appoint- ing a regent. Tlie Duke of Anjou, the eldest brother of the deceased monarch, had been one of the most ac- tive leaders during his life, and was supposed to be pos- sessed of considerable talent ; he was a mortal enemy to the Englisli, and a principal actor during the late reign in making war upon them in the south of France. They accused him also of treachery in breaking his word of parole ; and his character in general did not stand very high for truth and sincerity. This prince obtained, however, the regency by ap- pointment of the Estates, but the education and personal care of the king was not trusted to the Duke of Anjou ; the Duke of Burgundy, the king's uncle by the fatlier's side, and the Duke of Bourbon, who bore him the same relation by the mother's, being appointed his immediate personal guardians. Unhappily for France, the regent Duke of Anjou had a private interest of his own entirely different from that of the kingdom at large. The last Queen of Sicily and Naples was the celebrated Joan, who possessed these fair provinces in her own right. She was a profligate and infamous person, who, besides leading a vicious course of life, had rid herself of her husband, Andrew, by as- sassination. It is said, that one day this unfortunate prince found her weaving a cord made of silk and gold so remarkable in appearance, that he was induced to ask what purpose she designed to apply it to. Joan truly answered, " it was designed to hang her husband with ;" and shortly after caused this cruel assassination to be per- formed by the very cord in question. At the period of her death, this unhappy queen, by the counsel and ad- vice of the Pope, bequeathed her crown and dominions to the Duke of Anjou, who, with the flattering prospect before him, of a kingdom which was to be his own, was little disposed to pay due attention to the interests of that country of which he was regent for his nephew. One of his first resolutions, (and certainly one which could 192 ANJOU*S CLAJM TO SIClLTf AND NAPLES. not be vindicated on any principle of morality,) was to seize upon the treasures ot' the late King Ciiarles, his brother, who. by his policy and economy, had amassed large sums of gold and silver, wiiich he kept concealed in the castle of Melun. The sum amounted, it is said, to seventeen millions of francs. Violence, and even threats of death, were unscrupulously employed, to make the old officers of Charles communicate the knowledge of his treasure. They were at length obliged to produce it ; and the Duke of Anjou took possession of this mass of wealth. The first effort of the new government, divided as they were by the various claims of the princes of the blood, was exerted to procure a settlement amongst them ; and for some time at least, their desire of a relaxation of taxes seemed to intimate a sincere wish to alleviate the heavy burdens of the people. This flattering prospect disap- peared under the disunion of the princes of the ' lood royal. We have already said that the Regent Duke of Anjou seized upon the treasures of his brother Charles v., without having any personal title to do so ; he em- ployed them, as I will hereafter show you, in an attempt on Naples and Sicily — a purpose which proved totally useless to himself, and dangerous to France, on which it entailed a long course of disasters. There was at this time a schism in the Roman Catho- lic Church ; that is, two Popes had been chosen, who were acknowledged in opposition to each other by differ- ent kingdoms of the Christian world, and both of whom aspired to wield the sword and the keys of Saint Peter. The one, who assumed the name of Urban, resided at Rome , the other, under the title of Pope Clement, held his seat of church government at Avignon, in tlie south of France. Each had his separate college, of cardinals, and each affected the power and authority of the full papal sway. The Duke of Anjou had no great difficulty in prevail- ing upon the anti-pope, Clement, to declare in favour of his title to the crown of Naples and Sicily, under the EXPEDITION TO BRETAGNE. 19JJ bequest of Queen Joan. He did so with the greater -show ot* authority, as he alleged tliat tlie deceased Joan liad put all her dominions and seigniories at the disposal of the Church, and that, therefore, the Pope had the strongest reason for supporting and defending her subse- quent bequest to the Duke of Anjou, which was inadu by his consent. Wliile, therefore, Anjou was pursuing his own ends, the English might have made considerable, and perhaps successful efforts, for the recovery of the dominions which they had lost in France. Of these dominions, Calais, Bourdeaux, and Bayonne, places which had to be gar- risoned at a great expense, were the cliief remains of Edward Ill's, conquests which his successor retained. They were important towns, and required large garrisons. Cherbourg and Brest were also at this time in the hands of the English. (A. D. 1378.) That nation had been admitted into th« former town by the King of Navarre when he lost his other dominions in Normandy ; and the Duke of Bi'etagne had given up Brest to them in the like manner, when he found that the French kin"- was likely to expel him from his duchy. It was after much entreaty that the English Parliament consented to the continuance of the heavy taxes neces- sary to the defence of these possessions, and for the maintenance of a lingsring warfare, which had not been of late years gilded over either by national glory or suc- cess. They did consent, however, and their doing so was absolutely necessary to maintain the war in Bretagne ; for, although the duke had returned to that country, in consequence of the invitation of his subjects, who were determined to resist their subjection to the crown of France, still it was impossible that he could be successful in maintaining the independence of Bretagne or his own, without assistance from England. A large army was therefore sent into France, by the way of Calais, under the command of the Earl of Buck- ingham, afterwards known as the good Duke Humphrey 194 STATE OF FRANCE AND ENGLAND. of Gloucester, uncle to King Richard IT. This e had been subjected ; and with that purpose he besieged, or rather blockaded, the town with little effect. The great popu- lation of the Ghentois enabled them to keep the field, notwitlistanding the displeasure of the earl ; and although many citizens disapproved internally of the violence of the white hats, no burgher dared publicly dissent from their proceedings. The insurgents obtained several ad- vantages over the earl, and even compelled him to raise the siege of the place. Still it was apparent to wise meUj that the white hats were falling in reputation ; and their leader John Lyon having died under suspicion of poison, It was thought impossible to find any man of sufficient courage or influence to supply his place ; and thus a se- vere attack from the opposite party was likely to over- throw the insurgent faction. At this crisis Philip d'Arte- ville emerged from obscurity, and rose to the head and 1N3URRECTICN OF THE GHENTOIS. '97 management of the insurgents of Ghent, securing his authority by many acts of arbitrary power. D'Arteville was specially encouraged to the part he acted by the mstigation of a subtle citizen called Peter Dubois, who. before promising him his interest in the city, thus ques- tioned l)iin, whether he possessed the qualities necessary for a demagogue. '• Can ye bear yourself high," said he, " and be cruel among the commons, and especially in such things as we shall have to do ? A man is nothing worth, unless he be feared and dreaded, and at the same time renowned for cruelty. Thus must the Flemings be governed ; and you must have no more regard for the life of man, or pity for their sufferings, than of the life of the brutes which we kill for food." Philip d'Arte- ville assented to this lesson ; and by the recommendation of Dubois, and the recollection of his father's original popularity, he was chosen governor of Ghent, and leader of the insurgents in Flanders. Thus were the Earl of Flanders, and the citizens of his towns, once more in open arms against each other. The French, espousing, as formerly, the cause of the Earl of Flanders, despatched forces to his assistance ; and the English government, though distracted by domes- tic confusion, failed not, as usual, to send to Calais an army to assist D'Arteville and the insurgent citizens. The French Prince, who had the greatest personal in- terest in this revolt of Flanders, was Philip, Duke of Burgundy, son-in-law and heir to the earl of that country. To him, therefore, the Earl of Flanders naturally carried his complaint, stating, that these traitors, the insurgents of Ghent, iiis own native liegemen, had destroyed the house in which he was born, broken to pieces the font in which he was cliristened, done him every manner of despite, and were now likely to ruin his remaining heritage. In all this the Duke of Burgundy saw the necessary desola- tion of a heritage that should one day be his own, and therefore, having much influence in the administration of Prance, he lesolved that the king his nephew, and all his 17* 198 BATTLE OF ROSEBECQUE. peers, should march into Flanders, and fight against (hose insurgent burgesses, who were likely to lay that fine country entirely waste, or declare it independent of its earl and his nobility. Accordingly, the King of France, under the guidance of his uncle, the Duke of Burgundy, marched into Flanders at the head of eighty thousand men. The war was conducted with great vigour on the part of the French.' Yet Philip d'Arteville, on this trying oc- casion, showed both dexterity and courage. From Ghent and the confederate towns he collected a numerous army. Those who fought under him were arrayed in cassocks of different colours, to mark the various towns they belonged lo ; they were armed chiefly with pikes, and fought en- tirely on foot, forming one main battalion or division. Their captain, D'Arteville, alone kept a good horse be- side him, not for the purpose of flight, but for that of fol- lowing the French in the chase, which, he doubted not, would be the consequence of the battle. The country, divided by rivers and canals, was favourable to the Flem- ings. After some lesser skirmishes, the two armies encounter- ed each other in a pitched battle near the town of Rose- becque. The Flemings, for a time, made a most despe- rate and gallant defence ; but as they were attacked by the flower of the French chivalry, headed by the princes of the blood, and by the king in person, the insurgents were at length broken by the charge of the horses and lances. (A. D. 1381, Nov. 27.) As the knights and men-at-arms gave no quarter to an enemy, whom they reckoned so inferior to themselves, twenty-five thousand men were left slain upon the field. Philip d'Arteville fell bravely fighting ; and the victory was so well im- proved, that most of the towns which had been in insur- rection, submitted peaceably to the dominion of France, though Ghent still held out. Shortly after he had been thus replaced in his domin- ions, Louis, Count of Flanders, died, and the Duke of Burgundy became established as a very great prince, en MARRIAGE OF CHARLES VI. 199 joying not only his deceased father-in-law's seign orles, vvhich comprehended the whole country of Flanders, but bis own dominions of Burgundy and Artois, — forming to- getlier a strong, compact, and powerful principality, which, though now its lord was so nearly connected with the crown of France as to be its principal regent, became in after times a dreaded enemy of that power. About this time, the King of France, by the advice of the Duke of Burgundy, was wedded to a beautiful Ger- man princess, Isabella, daughter of the Duke of Bavaria. It was remarkable that the young prince declined acced- ing to the n)atch, until, contrary to the usage of princes, he was permitted to see the princess to whom he was to be betrothed. He was delighted with her external beauty, but had no means of perceiving the bad qualities of the mind which were lodged in so beautiful a form. Mean- while the duke took the opportunity of the king's German match, to make an advantageous bargain for his own son, with the daughter and heiress of Albert, Count of Zea- land, HainauTt, and Holland, affording the prospect of a succession which might make a formidable addition to the dominions of Burgundy and Flanders. From the bloody field of Rosebecque, in which the power of the insurgent Flemings had been broken, the young King of France hurried back to his own capital, of Paris, which had been for a considerable time more or less in mutiny against him, as formerly against his father Charles V. The Parisians had rendered their city in somn degree tenable by building walls, digging trenches, drawing bar- ricades across the street, and thus impeding the entrance of the military ; and they themselves had assumed the title of maillotins, or malleters, from the mallets w'ith which they were generally armed. In order to overawe the young king, they disj^layed before him this force, amounting to thirty thousand men ; but, instead of being daunted, Charles was provoked by their assuming an ap- pearance of menace, and, despising their numbers, entered his capital as if by force of arms, and seized, withoul scruple, upon two or three hundred leaders of the mal- 200 EXPEDIT ON OF THE letters, several of whom were put to death for some suc- cessive days, in requital of former acts of insubordination. The gates of the city were also pulled down, the citizens disarmed, and the insurrection for the time was efFeclually subdued. England, weakened as it was by external losses and internal mutiny, was still too powerful not to be appealed to during these times of confusion. When the Flemings were in insurrection, the English, though they ridiculed the idea of giving them pecuniary assistance, which D'Arleville required, were yet disposed to send troops to the continent, to avail themselves of the general confusion. With this view, two propositions were inade to the British Parliament." By the one, John of Gaunt, on re- ceiving an allowance of forty thousand pounds, or there- abouts, declared himself willing to undertake an expedi- tion into Castile ; but as the piu'pose of this must have been a conquest for his own benefit, without any corres- ponding national advantage, the Parliament declined en- tering upon this proposal, which was afterwards, however, unfortunately resumed. They were more willing to listen to a proposal made by the Bishop of Norwich, for the support of the Flem- ings. This military prelate had already distinguished himself by quelling some insurrections in his own bishop- ric. He now offered his services, upon certain terms, of money to be paid, to raise three thousand men-at-arms and three thousand archers, which he proposed to trans- port to Calais, and there act in behalf of the Flemings. This was also in some measure a religious undertaking ; for the warlike bishop, who declared stoutly for the rights of Pope Urban in the schism of the church, made it a principal object of his expedition, to remove his compet- itor Clement, whom he held to be an antipope, from the "My of Avignon. The nobles of England thought well of this enterprise of the bishop ; but while they were in deliberation upon the subject, the battle of Rosebec(|U6 was fought, in which D'Arteville was killed, and his anriy of insurgents otally defeated, whereby the whole country BISHOP OF NORWICH 201 jf F'landers fell to the French interest, which was natu- rally embraced by the Duke of Burgundy, son-in-law and successor of the last earl, Louis of Flanders. Then, indeed, the English government blamed their own inde- cision, and began to censure each other, for not having sent timely succours to D'Arteville. " Had tliese poor Flemings," they said, " who fought so well in their own rude manner, been joined by but two thousand English spears and- six thousand archers, not a Frenchman would have escaped death or captivity. But there is a good time to come. Tlie French king has conquered Flan- ders ; we will conquer it again for Richard of England.^' This species of reasc-ning induced many distinguished men, as Sir Hugh Calverley and others, to join the expe- dition under the Bishop of Norwich, although its chance of success was greatly diminished by the defeat of Rosebecque. The martial prelate took the sea accordingly, and land- ed at Calais the 23d day of April, 1383. When the English arrived at this place, the Bishop of Norwich was in great haste to move against the Earl of Flanders ; although, strictly speaking, his commission limited him to attack and destroy those only who owned Clement as the Pope. Some disputes there were upon this subject ; but the fiery prelate was not to be restrained by remonstran- ces, nor disposed to limit his commission to the letter. He defeated an army of thirty thousand French and Flem- ings, in the French interest, and made himself master ot Gravelines and Dunkirk, Burburgh, and several other towns ; and besieged Ypres, which was valiantly defended. The besiegers sent to the people of Ghent, who had still, notwithstanding the defeat at Rosebecque, remained in insurrection against the Earl of Flanders ; and as they joyfully obeyed the summons, and came in large numbers, with great hope of success, the siege was closely pressed. The King of France, therefore, instigated by the Duke of Burgundy, his uncle, assembled an army of twenty tliousand men-at-arms, and more than threescore thousand of other trojps, for the purpose of relieving Ypres. 202 RETREAT OF THE ENGLISH This news alarmed the bishop, whose force was too weak to ab'^de tlie arrival of such an army. The siege was raised m such haste and disorder, that the besiegers took different routes to secure themselves ; some march- mg towards Burburgh, under Sir Hugh Calverley and Sir Tlioinas Trivet ; and the rest of the army, under the personal command of the bishop, retreating towards Gravelines. The party under Calverley halted for some time at the town of I3ergues. The French^ host ap- proached them just after they had occupied the place. " It was beautiful," says Froissart, " to behold this royal armament, their banners and pennons flying, their spears and helmets glistening against the sun, their number so great tliat it could not be ascertained, and their spears appearing like a thick wood !" Sir Hugh Calverley was at first inclined to have fought the French at Bergues, disdaining all difference of numbers ; but on better re- flections, withdrew to tl)e town of Burburgh, which was stronger, though unfortunately the houses were most of them thatched, and thus liable to be set on fire. Here the party of English defended themselves val- iantly for some time, until the King of France ordered a great number of fagots for filling the ditches of the place, as one determined to carry it by storm. A small piece of silver, called a blank, was paid to each peasant who should bring a fagot, and on these terms the ditches were soon filled. In this extremity, the English leaders were glad to compound for permission £0 evacuate the place safely, and return to Calais. Gravelines, whither the greater part of the English had retired, and where the bishoD commanded in person, was surrendered in like manner, and on the same conditions as Burburgh, This expedition of the Bishop of Norwich gave little satisfaction to the English ; and though it certainly was not more useless than most of those which had lately been undertaken in France, the bishop underwent both censure and fine for its bad success. John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster, was rather pleased than otherwise with the unfortunate issue of the Bishop of Norwich's ANJOU'S NEAPOLITAN EXPEDITION. 203 ittempt ; yet he might have learned, from the fate of the Duke of Anjou, wliose siuiation in the court of France nearly resembled his own in that of England, that he might be a loser, rather than a gainer, by the enterprise wliich he himself meditated, even if be had succeeded in the commencement. The following is a brief account of the Neap^olitan expedition, which we have j)ostponed till now, though it actually took place so early as 1382 : — The Duke of Anjou, 1 have told you, had made free with the treasures of his brother Cliarles V., in order to support the claim of succession, which the Pope and the Queen Joan had given him in Sicily and Naples. Daz- zled with tiie prospect of a kingdom, he unwarily sacri- ficed the real power which he possessed as Regent of France, for the romantic project of making himself a king in Italy, His brother, the Duke of Burgundy, who ex- pected to succeed him as Regent, encouraged iiim in his de.;perate enterprise. The Duke of Anjou employed the u^ealth which he had acquired, in levying an army, which, in the days when the Free Companies were everywhere to be found, w'as, while there were funds to pay them, a matter of much ease. He acquired the aid of the Earl of Savoy, who joined Anjou with a considerable body of his followers. In his progress through Sicily, the French prince coined money, and assumed the titles of King of Naples, of Sicily, and Jerusalem, Duke of Apulia, and of Caiabria. On the other hand, his competitor, Charles de Durazzo, as near- est heir of Queen Joan, claimed her kingdom as his in- heritance, and his title was affirmed by Pope Urban on similar grounds to those which moved his rival Clement to prefer that of the Duke of Anjou. This prince had no means of withstanding such an army as that" led by the Duke of Anjou. Upon his first arrival, therefore, in full strength, he resolved to avoid fighting, and watch the course of events. He saw with considerable equanimity his country laid waste, and the city of Naples possessed by his rival. Charles of Du- razzo, howeve^, being satisfied in his own mind that the 204 NEGOTIATION FOR A PEACE. vveiilth of tlie Duke of Anjou must, in a short time, be «;xl)ausl(;d, and his army disbanded for want of supplies, ;;ontiiiued to protract the struggle. Accordingly, the necessity of paying and supporting an army, wiiich consisted of fifty thousand men at least, soon exhausted all the treasures which tlie Duke of Anjou had been able to collect. His rival exercised effectually the arts of Italian policy, and, by prolix negotiation, amused the Frenchman with personal challenges which he never designed to fulfil ; so that, at length, his army being al- most totally dissolved, and his treasures entirely exhaust- ed, Louis of Anjou died of depressed spirits and disap- pointed hopes, at the village of Bari, the 10th of October, 1383. Charles of Durazzo, tliat he might seem to carry on his dissimulation even after the death of his rival, wore mourning for thirty d-tiys for the death of his competitor and mortal enemy — after which he took possession of l)is crown. It is said, that the ultimate cause of Anjou's ruin was a faithless follower, entitled Peter Craon, a Breton noble, afterwards frequently, but unhappily, distinguished in French history. He was a man of talent and social hab- its, for which he was highly valued at the profligate court of France. This Craon had followed the Duke of An- jou to Italy, and in his necessities, that prince sent him to bring some supplies of money, which he had left in France under the charge of his princess. The false emissary obtained the money ; but, instead of bringing it back, as the count had enjoined him, he spent it at Venice in profligate, riotous, and expensive pleasures. Having, notwithstanding, ventured back to Paris after the Duke of Anjou's decease, Craon fell at first under the displeasure of the king, and was severely fined for breach of trust ; but afterwards, by the arts proper to such parasites, he recovered the fiivour of the court, and again had confi- dence reposed in him, whicli jnit in his power once more the means of abusing and betraying it. About this time, the Duke of Bretagne, who had borne arms in the camp of the King of France during the ex- FREE COMPANIES 205 pedition of the Bishop of Norwich, ventii.-ed to make his appearance in tue character of negotiator of a peace be- tween France and England — a character somewhat singu- larly assumed by one who, like John de Montfort, had oeen unfaithful to both kingdoms. Neither, however, were prepared, by the course of events, to submit to moderate terms ; and while the English refused to hold in vassalage of France the few places which they still retained in that kingdom, the French were equally un- willing that a foreign nation should enjoy even the slightest independent possession on their soil. No solid terms of peace, therefore, could be adjusted between the contend- ing powers. In the meantime, France, more especially its south- western provinces, continued to suffer from the Free Companies, or bands of armed men, of whom I have often told you before ; they owned no king or country, but as- sembled in towns and castles, where they made their livins^ by force, and at the expense of the neighbourhood. JMany of them, we liave seen, rose from being captains of such robbers — for such was their true description — into knights and generals of great consequence. 1 think, how- ever, you will better understand the character of this sort of persons, and conceive the scourge they must have been to a peaceful country, by a short account of the his- tory and death of two of their number. The province of Auvergne was particularly haunted by this banditti, because it abounds with passes, rocks, hills and strongholds, of which the Free Companions knew admirably how to take advantage in war. Several of the most renowned leaders had settled themselves there, for the same reason that a mountainous region is peopled by eagles, hawks, and other birds of prey, to whom it affords t)pportunities of rapine, and ineans of concealment. Two of these freebooters were distinguished above the others by their courage, intelligence, and activity ; their names, ^at least the epithets by which they were distinguished in the wars,) were Amergot Marcell, and Geoffrey Tete noii^ 206 ADVENTURES OF that is, Black-head. They both professed to espouse the English cause ; but it may be supposed that they only chose it because it afforded the most unlimited privilege of plunder. Froissart's account of the death of these two celebrated Companions is one of the most picturesque passages of his lively work, and will make you better ac- quainted with the lawless men who existed in that dis- tracted time, than a long dissertation of mine. Geoffl'ey Tete-noir obtained, by bribing a domestic, the means of obtaining possession, for himself and company, of the strong castle of Ventadour, belonging to an aged earl of that name, a quiet, peaceful man, whom the rob- bers dismissed without injury : such, indeed, had been the bargain of his treacherous squire, who surrendered the place. Geoffi'ey Tete-noir here prosecuted his profession with groat success. " He was a hardy man," says the historian, " who knew neither fear nor pity, and would put to death a knight or squire as soon as a peasant, for he cared for no one ; and he was so much dreaded by his men, that none dared displease him." This chieftain assembled a band of four hundred men, to whom he paid higfi wages monthly, with the utmost regularity. He protected the country around Ventadour, so that no one dared make incursions upon the territory. In his castle he held a kind of open market, where goods and furniture, cloth of Brussels, peltry and mercery, with iron and steel ware, leather, and other commodities, were to be found as plentiful as in the city of Paris. The castle was fully victualled for a siege, had it been to last seven years. Nay, occasionally, to show his independence, Tete-no r chose to make war on the English as well as the French ; and this jovial course of life he led for many years, more dreaded than any lawful authority in the country where he lived. Bui when the French interest began to recover itself in these districts, the nobles and knights united themselves together for the purpose of besieging the forts and castles of which these robbers had possession, and delivering the (JKOFFHEY TETE-NOm. 201 country, by fair means or by force, from these lawless companions. Accordingly, Sir William Ligr.ac, Sir John Bon-lance, and many otiiers, knights of Auvergne and of the district of the Limosin, formed the siege of Ventadour, for the safety of which Tete-noir was no way distressed, having plenty of ammunition and provisions. But one day, as he was heading his men in a sally, he received a crossbow shot in the face. The medical persons thought that the wound was unattended with danger, had the patient ob- served the regimen prescribed ; but he was a free-living person, unwont to self-denial of any kind. The conse- quence of his careless course was, that the wound proved mortal. When Geoffrey Tete-noir felt himself very ill, he summoned the principal officers of his Free Company to his dying bed. He reminded them that he had long been their true captain, and, being now about to die, was desirous to see them unite to choose a chieftain in his stead, who might be able to defend this strong and well- fnrnished castle, until the French should raise the siege. " 1 have served," he added, " chiefly under the shadow of the King of England, holding the service to be one in which there is much to be got, and you will do well to choose one who shall follow the same policy." The Companions heard their commander's wOrds in silence, and when they answered, it was to offer to Tete-noir the choice of his successor. Having named a kinsman of his own to this office, the patient proceeded to make his will ; and it was one which, while it shows the wealth acquired by such people, is a curious evidence of their superstition, and their wild and irregular ideas of property, even when it was their own. " In yonder chest," said the dying brigand, " are thirty thousand marks. I will give them according to my conscience. Firsts to the chapel of Saint George, in this castle, fifteen hundred marks, to be spent in repairing the same ; next, to my mistress, who has truly and faithfully attended me, two thousand five hun- dred francs ; to Allan Roux, whom I have named your captain, four thousand francs ; five hundred to the varlet* ^08 ADVENTURES OF of my clmmber ; fifteen hundred to the officers of rnj household ; the rest 1 give and bequeath thus :— ^Ye be about thirty Companions, all of one band ; ye ought to be brethren, without debate, anger, or strife among you. Having paid these legacies, I will that you divide the residue of the money, which you shall find in yonder chest, truly and equally among you thirty. But if you be not content witli my bequest, and that the devil do set debate amongst you, there stands a stout axe, break up the coffer, scramble for the money, and get it who can 1" The residuary legatees replied, that as they had always re- garded their captain, while living, with love and awe, so ihey would follow his behests when dead. Tliey continued to respect Geoffrey's testament after bis death. But his successor Allan Roux, being surprised in a piece of intended treachery, was put to the sword, and the castle of Ventadour taken. The history of Amergot Marcell, whom we have men- tioned as a biother in the trade' of war, and an occasiona! partner of Tete-noir, gives us a similar picture of tlieir life. This worthy had, in like manner, acquired the strong castle of Aloys, in Auvergne ; from it he made many suc- cessful inroads upon the country, which produced him a revenue of twenty thousand florins. But about tlie time of Tete-noir's death, the Earl of Armagnac, and several French lords, were commissioned to get these robbers out of the country by bribery, if that should be necessary., since force was a doubtful and dangerous remedy. Mar- cell was after a time persuaded that he had better accept the offer made him, renounce hrs unlawful and violent proceedings, and, by means of the treasure he had ac- quired, live in future a peaceful life. In these sentiments, he delivered up to the Earl of Armagnac the castle oi Aloys, situated in the very heart of Auvergne. But when he had resigned this stronghold, ho began to repent of having done so, and of having adopted re- formed courses. He felt that there was a diminution of the respect and awe which he formerly inspired whenever ois name was pronounced. The brigand is said to have AMERGOT MARCELL. 201* lamented his change of condition to the old companions nf his rapine ; and his recollections, as dehvered by thd historian, give a lively picture of his successful robberies. "To'pillage and rob," he said, " al! tilings considered, was a good life ;" and so he repented him of liis good resolutions, and thus addressed his old companions : — " Sirs, there is no sport or glory in this world among men of war, but to use such life as we have done in time past. What a joy was it to us when we rode forth at adventure, and sometimes found by the way a rich prior or merchant, or a route of mules of l\lont])elier, of Narbonne, of Tou- louse, or of Carcassonne, laden with Brussels cloth, or with furs coming from the fairs, or of spicery ware from Bruges, from Damascus, from Alexandria ! Whatever we met, all was ours, or else ransomed at our pleasure. Then, for our living, the peasants of Limosin daily brought to our castle, wheat-flour, ready-baked bread, forage for our horses, good wines, beeves and fat sheep, pullets and wild fowl. W^e were furnished as though we had been kings ; when we rode forth, the whole country trembled for fear ; all was ours, going and coming. How we took Carlushe, and James the Bourge of Compeigne ; and how I and Perot of Bernoys took Chalucet ! How did we scale with little aid the strong castle of lMarquel,and how I received in ransom thereof five thousand francs, told down on a fair table, and showed my gentleness by forgiving another thousand, for respect to the dauphin's children ! By my fdith, this was a fair and a good life ! and I repute myself sore deceived when 1 rendered up the fortress of Aloys ; since, well victualled as it was I could have kept it against all the world." Marcell's regret for the license of his early life natu- rally led to his resuming his former profession. It would be useless to trace his further exploits, though they are siriijular enough. His mode of life was rendered more aiilicult by the close alliance of the French kmghts, which, as we have already noticed, had for its ol>"ect the suppression of the Companies. Nor did the English af- 210 Lancaster's invasion of castile. ford liini any effectual support, there being a truce be- tween the kint,rdoins at the time. At lengtli he intrusted himself to the conhdence of one of iiis kinsmen called Turnemine, who delivered him uj) to the French. When he was brought to Paris, JVJarcel! offered threescore thou- sand francs for his ransom. The cold reply was, that the king was rich enough. The brigand was dragged on a cart to the Halles, and, being first exposed on the pillory, was afterwards hanged and quartered, his quarters being placed over the gates of the city. These two leaders of banditti, their sentiments, and their fate, may serve to give you some idea of the life they led, and the manner in which France was finally relieved of them. To return to our history. The Duke of Lancaster, in the meantime, had, by his extensive influence, obtained at length the great but ill-placed object of his ambition, and had sailed with twenty thousand English troops, to make good his claim to the kingdom of Castile, lately pos- sessed by his father-in-law, Pedro the Cruel. It may be enough to say of his adventures in Spain and Portugal, that his troops maintained the character of the Enidish for bravery ; and acquired, as has been their usual fate, little or no advantage to their country from their brilliant exploits. The unhealthy climate, and intemperate use of the wines and fruits of the country, spread contagious diseases among them. But when we remember that port wine is now a general, andsupposed a healthy beverage, for Englishmen of the higher and middling ranks, we can- not suppress a smile when we read Froissart's assui'ances, that the hot and fiery wines of Oporto were fatally nox- ious to the English of his day, who were accustomed only to drink the light and generous wines of Gascony, or the mild ale of their own country. It occurred to the French king and his courtiers, that when the realm of England might be supposed exhausted by the mutinies of the peasants, and the two expedition? under the Bishop of Norwich and John of Gaunt, the proper season had arrived for transferring the war into the DUKE OF BRETAGNE 211 territory of England. On this, as on later occasions, the preijarations for invasion wei-e made to a ctunbrous, ratliei than useful extent, and with great and luinecessajy sjtien- dour. Upwards of seven hundred ships were prepared to transport the large army whicli was collected for this enterprise ; the frame of a wooden town was put on board, which was designed to be taken to pieces, and carried fi'om place to place for the king's lodging, should he at- tend the expedition. The severe equinoctial storms of 1386 destroyed this great fleet of transj)orts, wliich hati rendezvoused in tlie harbour of Sluyse. The king show. ed his favour to his uncle, the Duke of Burgundy, by be- stowing upon him tlie harbour of Shiyse itself, and tlio various w^recks with which the tempest had filled ii in- cluding the fragments of the great wooden town already mentioiied. About the same period, the affairs of Bretagne began again to assume peculiar interest, John de Montfort, Duke of Bretagne, whom we have so often mentioned, as a man of bravery and talent, had a difficult part to phiy between France and England, and might, therefore, have been taught prudence by his situation. Yet, on tlie pres- ent occasion, lie ventured upon a line of conduct which would have been destructive to him, had circumstances permitted the French king to have driven the matter to extremity. You cannot have forgotten the long wars betwixt John de .Montfort and his parents, on the one side, and Charles de Blois, on the other. Among the greatest opponents of De Montfort, in his claim on tlie dukedom of Bretagne, . was Oliver de Clisson, a Breton lord, now Constable of France. The constable's zeai was the more provoking, that in the beginning of these disorders, he had been a partisan of the house of De IMontfort ; but long sinct; that time he had espoused the cause of Chailes de Blois,. and fought for him in the battle of Aurai, in which Charles was slain. Oliver de Clisson, after that battle, had ran- somed, at his own cost, two sons of Charles de Blois, th(! eldest of whom had married Clisson's dauiihter. Thii 212 THE DUKE OF BRETAGNE ARRESTS young lord, with consent, as might be supposed, of hts fathei-iii-law, still continued to display I lie aims of Bre- tagne on his banneis and in his scutcheon, and in so far, at least, to assert his claim to the duchy, in maiutaining which his father was slain at Aurai. The duke was so displeased with this implied challenge of his right, that he resolved to be avenged in any manner, however discredit- able to himself, which might place the constable in his power. For this purpose, he issued an invitatiou to all the nobility and lords of Bretagne, and especially to the Constable of France, Oliver de Clisson, to meet liim at a solemn entertainment, with which he proposed to regale them. Ifaving feasted them for some time, the Duke, as if to procure their opinion of the structure, carried them to see a castle by the sea-shore, which he was just building, and which he called the castle of Ermyne. The constable, entering the tower at the duke's request, was instantly laid hold of, secured, and loaded with irons. His brother-in-law, the Lord Delaval, who saw the gate of the lower shut suddenly, and observed by the duke's change of complexion, that something remarkable had happened, threw himself upon his knees, and demanded mercy for the gentle constable. "Are you willing to share his fate .?" answered the duke, obviously in a high passion. " 1 am," answered Lord Delaval, in more anx- iety for his friend, than apprehension for himself. "Then," said the duke, drawing his dagger, " you must be content to lose one of your eyes, for Clisson has but one." (He lost the other, it must be observed, at the battle of Aurai.) After a moment, however, the duke abstained from the violence which he threatened, and caused Delaval to be apprehended, saying, that he should have neither worse nor better treatment than his friend. He was led, ac- cordingly, into a prison-chamber, and loaded, as was the constable himself, with three pairs of irons. The Lord Delaval continued to make intercession for the constable ; and though the duke repeatedly threatened to put both his prisoners to death, he had the good fortune to divert him from his purpose. Finally, the duke accepted of a THE CONSTABLE OF FRANCE. 213 ransom, amounting to the large sum of one hundred thousand fiancs, hcsides three castles, and tiie town o'' Guyon. It was the opinion of the IJretons in general, that the true purpose of this violence on the duke's part, was la reconcile himself with the English, whom he had lately- displeased by his desertion of the Duke of Buckingham, yet without whose support he must have felt it difficult to mamtain the character of independence which he af- fected as Duke of Bretagne. The consequence of the constable's arrest in Bretagne, depriving the king of France of that great officer, upon whose wisdom he chiefly rested for the successful execu- tion of his pioject against England, nnist necessarily have interrupted the progress of the invasion ; but, as you have already heard, the tempestuous weather put an end to that expedition, by destroying the transports. The didxe. however, contrived to reconcile himself with the king of France, at the expense of returning the sum he had extorted as the ransom for Clisson, and giving up the castles which he had rect;ived from him. 20 4th See. |J14 CHARLES VI. ASSUMES THE GOVERNMENT. CHAPTER XII. Charles VI. assumes the Government into his ovmhandi — his choice of Counsellors. — Jhtempt of Peter de Craon to assassinate Oliver de Clisson, Constable of France — the assassin takes rrfvge in Bretagne, whose Duke, De JMontfort, had been privy to his design — King Charles, in marching towards Bretagne, to avenge himself upon the intended Alurdercr, is struck with Insaniti/, ivhereupdn the Expedition is abandoned — Accident at a J\ius(jue, in which the King, during one. of his hucid Interva!^, performed a jjart — The Duke of Burgundy appointed Begent, in opposition to the claims of the Duke of Orleans — Burgundy drives Oliver de Clisson from Court, rvho retires to Bretagne, and engages in a war with De Montfort — Peace concluded betiveen them — De Alontfort's Death, leaving Clisson Guardian of his Children — ■ Clisson^s honourable conduct in that capacity — His Death — Administration of the Duke of Burgundy — Assistance afforded by Prance to the Scots — Pxpedi- tion to protect Hungary from the Purks — the French and Hungarians defeated by the Sultan Bajazet near JS'icopolis — Massacre of the Prisoners — State of France at the Close of the Fourteenth Century. The next year was well advanced, when the French king, Charles VI., took upon himself the government of his kingdom. He assembled, for this purpose, a council at Rheinis, whither he called his uncles, the Du.kes of Berri, Burgundy, and Bourbon, and expressing his grateful thanks for the services ihey iiad rendered him, declareu himself in future determined to govern his kingdom by the assistance of a council of state, the members of which were to be selected by himself. The nation were not sorry to see that none of the youiig GOVERNMENT OF CHARLES VI. 915 king's uncles, except the Duke of Bourbon, were includ- ed in the list of privy counsellors. Tlie Dukes of J^erri .and Burgundy, however, both of whom were ambitious men, though Burgundy alone was an able one, were higlily offended at being thus excluded from power. The king himself, as Air as the character of so young a man could be guessed at, possessed the most promising dis[)o- sitions. His education however, had been neglected ; and, as was probably the policy of his uncle, who wished to keep him detached from business, he had contracted an extravagant passion for hunting and other youthful exer- cises, together with a fove of public show and festivities, inconsistent with the economy which the state of the na- tion highly demanded. These failings, added to untoward circumstances, and to a melancholy alteration in the slate of his health, rendered Charles Vl. one of the nK)st un- fortunate princes that ever sat upon the throne of France, even though he had been preceded by the van(|uished Philip and the captive .John. In the commencement of his reign, however, these defects were far from being visi- ble. He was attentive to business, careful to render justice to those who j)resenled petitions to him, liberal in the remission of taxes, active in his administration, and so amiable in his general deportment, as to acquire iho surname of Charles the Weil-beloved. In this the happiest period of his reign, the death of the Duchess of Oi'leaiis enabled hitn to bestow the title, and the province itself, upon his only brother, whom he had determined to raise to a rank befitting the love which he bore to him. The principal officer whom Charles VI. ernj)1oyed, and whom he valued as much for his civil as for his warlike qualities, was the iireton loid, Oliver de Clisson, often mentioned as Constable of France, and whom, perhaps, the king valued the more, from, being conscious iliat his greatness and wealth arose entirely from distinguished merit, without being the result of high birth. For the same reason, the king's uncles, seeing a person whom they regarded as an upstart, rise into confidence vvitb 216 ATTEMPT TO ASSASSINATE their ro^-al nephew, from which, they wtre excluded; entertained a deep hatred for Clisson, which disphiyed if.seir on several occasions ; and these princes are, there- fore, supposed to have aided the Duke of Bretagne in escaping-, so easily as iie did, from tlie consexjuences of his treacherous attack upon the constahle's person, at the castle of Ermyne, and to have been at the bottom of a foul attempt to assassinate iiim, which look place shortly afterwards. The agent in this vile deed, which was the too frequent vice of thai barbarous age, was the same Peter Craon, formerly remarkable as having been the confidant of Louis of Anj«n, to whoni he proved faithless, and incurred a fine and censure, notwithstanding which, he luul contrived to enter once more into some credit at the couit of France. 'Craon, a bold, meddling, and intriguing person, had ac- quired so much intiu)acy with the Duke of Touraine, afterwards Orleans, the kinir's brother, that he had an opportunity of abusing it, which it was not in his natuie to on)it. The king, who understood that Craon had been disturijing the peace of his court, by fetching and carry- ing tales betwixt the Duke and Duchess of Orleans, inti- mated his displeasLire by a sentence of banishment from coint. Craon retired into Bretagne, of which duchy he was a native, and where he had property, full of indigna- tion against the constable ; and reckoning with security that he would have the countenance of the Duke of Bre- tagne, in any enterprise which he might form against that ofTicer. It was not without the knowledge of this prince, that E'*eter Craon made a desperate attempt to assassinate the constable ; and we must lament the inconsistency of mankind, when we find that John de Montfort, who had acquired the title of the Valiant, and who, in the field of Aurai, wept in the moment of victory over the hereditary foe by whose death he became Duke of Bretagne, could, notwithstandinij:, become accessary to so base and cow- ardly a conspiracy. Though iDanished from Paris, Peter Craon had still like other persons attendant on the court, a house of Ijis THE CONSTABLE OF FR.-NCE. 217 own. which bo caused to he privately supplied with armour for forty men. In the meaiuiine lie introduced into the house, at different times, a like nundier of persons, the most des|)erate rufhans whom he couhl find in a country where long wai' had made such characters too abundant. At last he joined them suddenly himself, and connnanded ihe porter to let no person either in or out till his pleasure was known. On the same eveninif there was a great en- tertainment at court, upon which. Craon kept a close wat ji, in order to be apprized of the motions of his vic- tim. The knights jousted in presence of the king and queen ; supper was served ; dancing ensued ; at length all departed to their lodgings. As Constable of Prance, C'isson departed last of all. He asked if he should at- tend upon the Duke of Orleans longer, and was dismissed by that prince, who had no farther occasion for his ser- vice. The constable was then joined by Ins retinue, with his horses ; and, with eight persons anrl two torches, pur- sued his way through what was then called the street of Saint CaUierine's. Here Craon waited with his band of assassins, to execute his purpose. They attacked tlie unsuspicious passenger, and struck out the torches. The constable naturally took this sudden assault to be a youth- ful frolic on the part of the Duke of Orleans, from whom he had just parted, and said, " Ah ! sir, this is a bad jest ; but 1 pardon your youth and love of frolic." At this Peter Craon drew his sword, and cried, " Down with the constable ! 1 am Peter of Craon, whom thou hast often injured ; I will now have amends !" Excited by their master's cries, Peter Craon's men struck at the constable and his party, yet it xvas but faintly ; ••' for," says the chronicler, " what is done by treason is seldom done har- dily." The good knight whose life was the object of this ♦.reachery defended himself manfully with a sword scarce two feet in length, the only weapon which he had, and warded off many blows ; at length he was beat down by a severe stroke on the head, and fell against a baker'i door, which was forced open by his weight, and the baker, 218 CRAON S RECEPTION IN BRETAGNL. wlio was 11): early to attend to liis oven, drew the wounded man within his liouse, so that the rufFians couhl not have tlnis!:ed their work without aligliting, wliicii they had not time lo do. The assaihints were the readier to make their escape, tiiat they conceived, from the constahle's fall, that . their enterprise was fully executed. The city was speedily roused ; and the king himself iiastened lo tlie spot, with a cloak around him, and slippers on his feet. He instantly ordered a hot pursuit after the assas- sins, which was undertaken by the provost of Paris. Notwithstanding this, Peter of Craon escaped by the gate of the city which had been dismantled by Oliver Clisson himself, when the king, returning from the camj)aign of Rosebecque, punished the city of Paris. The assassin afterwards retired into Bretagne ; and the king prepared to march into that country, as well to revenge himself of Peter Craon, who had been guilty of such an outrage, as to chastise tlie Duke of Bretagne, his protector. Clisson, though much hurt, recovered from his wounds, although he thought his end so near, as to make his tes- tament. This was esteemed an extreanely impolitic step, as he thereby confirmed reports wh.icli were current re- specting the immense wealth which, he had amassed, and greatly increased the odium in which he was held on that account. His property was said to amount to seventeen millions of francs, without putting any value on his lands and lordships, forming a strong contrast to the honest poverty of Bertrand du Guesclin, Clisson's predecessor in his high office. In the meantime the intended murderer met with but a sorry reception from John de INlontfort ; not because he had attempted the i\eei], but because it was not fully ex- ecuted. " Ah ! Sir Peter of Craon," said the duke, " you are unhappy, that you could not slay your enemy when, he lay under your sword !" — " Sir," answered Craon, " 1 tliink all the devils had conjured him out of mv hands! 1 am sure more than sixty blows were struck at him with swords and javelins ; he was felled from his liorse ; and had he not tumbled in at a half-open door, he EXPEDITION AGAINST BKETAGNE. 2i9 had been but a dead man." The Duke of Bretagne jin- ?vveied, " that as it was so, he would conceal Sir Peter of C'raon, since so far he liad promised to aid hiin." It was hiifhly natural that the king should endeavour to Efvenge so gross and cruel an outrage ; but the oftenders had friends about the king's family and person. Accord- ingly, though on one hand Charles in-ged, as an article of treason on the part of the Duke of l^relagne, that he had sheltered an assassin under the circumstances of Peter de Craon, and per^iisted in his purpose of bringing both the murderer and his abettors to condiprehension, into great disorder, and re- tired, or rather lied, in confusion. The Turks, whose armies consisted chieHy of cavalry, made great havoc in the pursuit. 'J'he. King of Hungary himself, w'ith the Grand Master of the Hospitallers, escaped with difficulty ; and the slaughter and carnage, both among the Hungari- ans and tlieir auxiliaries, was very great ; while most of the French knights who escaped death on the field of battle, had the sad alternative of becoming captive to the infidels. Bajazet, greatly elated by his victory, took possession of the King of Hungary's tent, and, with the usual ca- price oi" a barbai'ian, evinced at first a desire to be civil to, and familiar with, such nobles as were brought prison- srs to his presence. He took credit to l^imself naturally for the great victory he had won, and boasted, it is said, a pretended descent horn Alexander of Macedon, in whose steps lie affected to treaii. But when the sultan had re- freshed himself, and came to \ie\v the field of battle, the loss of his best and bravest 'lurks was so much greater 234 MASSACRE OF PRISONERS. than he had conceived, that his tiger propensities began to show themselves. He caused to be pointed out to him some few of the knights who were of the Jiighest rank, and likely to pay the best ransom. These being set apart, with a view of preservinu; their lives, the rest, stript to their shirt?., were brought before him, previous to being put to the sword. ■ Tliere were present a great number of captives, of the highest blood and character in France, and other states of Em-ope ; in all, more than three hundred gentlemen. The Turks stood around them with their drawn scimitars. Bajazet appeared, and received the sujtplicaiion of all, for all were at his mercy. He looked upon his })risoners for a few moments, as a wild beast beholds his prey wiion he has made sure of it; and then turning away, made a sign to his soldiers, in obedience to which the unarmed prisoners were hewn to pieces without compunction. The sultan, however, was not wanting in a species of clumsy courtesy which intermingled strangely with his cruelty. He caused to be brought before Jiim the Earl of Nevers, to whom, on account of his high rank, he showed some deference, and asked him, which of three knights he would wish to despatch to Paris with the in- formation of his captivity. The earl fixed his choice upon one whom Froissart calls Jacques of Helley, who had been formerly prisoner with the Saracens, and whose knowledge of their language and manners had been of great service to his countrymen. The other two knights were presently put to death ; and Sir .Iacf(ucs of Helley was dismissed under the faithful promise that he should again return to the Court of Bajazet when he had dis- charged his embassy. The arrival of this messenger at Paris, vviili tidings so [lismal, threw almost the whole kingdom into mourning ; and it was the general report that France had -sustained no defeat so disastrous since ihe fal.)ulous combat of Ron- cesvalles, m wbich battle, romance stated the twelve peers of (Jharlemagne to have fallen. Amid the number of lears which were shed, and the grief which was displayed CLOSE OF THE FOaRTEENTH CENTURY. 235 on every side, the regent Duke of Burgundy was the on]y person who experienced some comfort in the general distress. It is said, he contrived to extort from the French jjeople, for the ransom of his son. the Earl of Nevers, a nnicii larger sum than was necessary for the purpose, or than was actually paid to Bajazet. Thus closed the fourteenth century upon the kingdom of France, neither leaving it healed of its disorders, nor in a way to be speedily cured of them ; fortunate, how- ever, in this, (hat tlie dissensions betwixt York and Lan- caster, now commenced by the rebellion of Bolingbroke, was likely so far to occupy the attention of the Eni^lish nation, as must necessarily prevent the recommencement of a war which had been longtha scourge of both nations 93(5 STATE OF FRANCE. CHAPTER XIII. Faction of Orleans and Burgundy — Threatened Rup- ture with England — The Duke of Orleans appointed Regent, and again deprived of that office — Death of Philip of Burgundy — John the Fearless succeeds him, and the Dissensions with Orleans continue — Recon- ciliation of the tivo Dukes — their hatred again bursts out — Murder of Orleans — Burgundy, ivho insfigaled this crime, obtains a full pardon, but, having gone to Quell an Insurrection at Liege, the Doom, oj Treason is pronounced against him — Burgundy advances upon Paris — the Adherents of Burgundy termed Cabo- chins, those (f Orleans, Armagnacs — ihe Jirmagnacs obtain assistance from. J'juuhuid — King Charles, dur- ing an Jnterval of his Ahdady, manifests the utmost indignation at this Ijcague with England, and marches in person against the Armagnacs — the French JYobles assemble in Paris, and compel the Jirmagnacs and Cabochins to be reconciled, to each other — On an In- surrection of the Parisians, the Dauphin calls to his assistance, and re-organizes, the Orleans Party — Burgundy retires from Paris, but is recalled by the Dauphin, on some disagreement between him and his mother, (^ueen Isabella — On the approach of Bur- gundy, the Dauphin again invites the Armagnacs to join him — Charles himself, partially recovered, marches against Burgundy, and compels him to sign a Pacifi- lation — State of England — Conclusion. OirR last chaptei- left France in -a sitiinnnn equally ex- traordinary and disastrous. The unfortunate monarch Charles VI. was so incurably affected with his disorder, that a light like that of a sunbeam in a tempest seemed only from time to time to gleam on his deranged imagi- nation, and enabled him to express occasionally some. EnPIRlCS ATTKMPT THE KING's CLKE. 237 oj)inion on politics, wliich tliose of his relaiives who had for the time the nearest access to his person, never failed to mould so as to serve their own purposes. Thus, with- out having, properly speaking, any will or inclination of his own, the unfortunate prince could assume the appear- ance of expressing one. and was sometimes brought forth *.o do so even in public, which, as his deficiencies were well known, could only have had the effect of degrading his government. At other times, the person of Charles was strictly se- rluded. His tent and his banner were displayed in niarches and sieges ; but the curtains of the pavilion were never raised, nor was the person of the sad inhabitant, ever visible to his soldiers. During the king's incapacity, the two tactions of Or- leans and Burgundy, although iheir representatives were connected in the near relation of uncle and nephew, con- tended with the n)ost bitter strife for the power of ad- ministering the governn)ent. The Queen Isabeliu, wife of Charles VI., an ambitious and violent woman, was supposed to have espoused the interest of the Orleans party, with a warmth which, as the duke was a hbertiie young man, was prejudicial to her reputation. The Duke of Orleans, therefore, and his wife Valentina, who pos- sessed a strong persona! interest with the king, wese for the present leagued with Queen Isabella for the purpose of depriving the reirent, Duke of Burgundy, of that power which he held in the administration. We shall afterwards see this intrigue assume a difTerent form. Each of these factions took the most violent and vui- scrupulous mode of doing whatever might injure l!)eir livals in the public opinion. Both of them called in the aid of pliysicians, in the hope of devising sou/e cure or alleviation of the king's malady ; and as the enipirics who were permitted, if not encouraged, to make new experi- ments upon the royal patient, usually left Charles worse than they found him, their want of success was always laid to the charge of the party which had consulted fhftr-n. The Duke of Orleans condeumed to the flame? 970 2.'J5 THREATENED RUPTURE WITH ENGLAND. as a inac;ician, a learned man, namerl Joan de Bar, wlic liad been employed by tbe Duke of Burgundy to -eflecf the king's cure. Tbe regent, in retaliation, commanded the prosecution of two Cordelier churchmen, wiio bad been brought by tbe Orleans faction to attend the king as physician?, and whose experiments bad consisted in deep and (iangerous incisions made on tbe bead of their royal patient. The Duke of Burgundy caused them both to be hanged. In the meantime, the external peace of the kingdom of France was threatened, w!)ile the government of the counti'y was a prey to discordant factions. Tbe contract of marriage between Richard II. and tlie young princess of France, Isabella, though absurdly ill-suited as regard- ed the age of the parties, had yet tlie great advantage of procuring a prolonged and solid peace betwixt two na- tions, wliose chief miseries for two centuries had been occasioned by inveterate and senseless hostilities, from which neither had gained advantage, while both had suf- fered immense loss in blood and treasure. But the dethronement and death of Richard II. was an unex- pected stroke, which dissipated all these happy pros- pects ; and tlie unfortunate Charles, who happened to be in 0!ie of bis lucid intervals at the time, was so much affected by tbe melanclioly tidings, that he relapsed into one of his most outrageous Fits of insanity. (A. D. 1399.) Tlie French princess, the intended wife of Richard, so soon as she should have arrived at a proper age, was still residing at the court of England ; and although her pro- jiosed husband was dethroned, and it is believed mur- dered, Henry IV. would fain have retained her there as a future bride for his son, afterwards Henry V. This match, which would in all probability have secured a stable peace between the countries, must have been highly to the advantage of both. But the French nation weie incensed at the death of Richard, whom they look- ed uj)on as their ally ; and the lords of Gascony who had hitherto followed tbe English interests, regarded the UNPOPULARITY OF THE DUKF. OF ORLEANS 239 same unfortunate monarch as the son of their great prince Edward, and their countryman, Richard havintr been born at Oourdeaux. The French, aware of this feeilno^, were universally disposed for war for the recovery of Bourdeaux and the other English possessions in France, in preference to a peaceful alliance w^ith that power under its new dynasty. But the malady of their king, and the contests between the factions of Orleans and Burgundy, rendered the French as unfit for prosecuting the war, as they were averse to continuing at peace ; and thus a re-enforcement from England, under command of the Earl of Worcester, easily secured Bourdeaux to the Eng- lish crown. In the year 1400, during a casual absence of the Duke of Burgundy from court, the opposite party had the art to extract from the king, then in one of his twilight in- tervals, a commission appointing his brother, the Duke of Orleans, his lieutenant and regent of the kingdom, at such periods when he himself should, by the visitation of God, be prevented from administering the government. (A. D. 1400.) This commission was partly obtained by the influence of the queen, who at this time hated the Duke, or rather the Duchess of Burgundy ; and it was received the more willingly by the people, as by the law of France, the Duke of Orleans was the rightful claimant of the regency, and his youth could not now, as fornierlv, be objected tor But the new regent used his power very unskilfully In the quarrel between the two Popes, which still sub- sisted, thv. Duke of Orleans espoused the cause of Bene- dict, which was the most unpopular in France ; he like- wise imposed taxes both on ecclesiastics and on the laity, which, joined to a casual scarcity of provisions, rendered his government intolerably oppressive. A crisis speedily followed, in which the Duke of Orleans was deprived of the regency by an assembly of the great men of the kingdom. Both dukes then took arms, and a civil war seemed inevitable, when, by the interference of the iXikeg of Berri, Bourbon, and other princes of the blood 240 DISTURBANCE OF ORLEANS AND BUUGUNBT. it was declared that, to end the family dissensioiiSj both Orleans and Burgundy should be excluded from tlie government of the kingdom, which was vested in the council of state, over which the queen was appointed to preside. This suspended, in appearance, .the quarrel between the rival princes, and, for a time, neither attempt, ed to assume the regency in person, though both exer- cisfcd an indirect influence upon the different members of the council. Philip, Duke of Burgundy, was afterwards again raised by his nephew the king, to a more active share in the government, when he suddenly died upon a journey, so very much embarrassed by debts, that his duchess renounced any share in his movable succession ; and, in testimony of her doing so, laid in the coffin of the deceased prince the keys of his household, and the girdle at which she wore tliem — a strange ceremony to take place at the funeral of a prince, who had at his command all the revenues of France, and was not supposed over scrupulous in employing thenr to his own purposes. John, Duke of Burgundy, who succeeded Philip, was called the Fearless. He possessed his father's power, although he had two brothers, each of whom inherited considerable territories, being Anthony, Duke of Brabant, and Philip, Count of Nevers, which last we saw unhap- pily distinguished at the battle of Nicopolis. But, above ail, .John, tlie eldest brother, had his father's ambition, and took up the family quarrel with the house of Orleans exactly where Duke Philip had left it. I'iie discord between the uncle and nephew came thus to subsist in full force between the two cousins. They disturbed the whole kingdom by their intrigues ; and the Duke of Burgundy had, like his father, the address to secure a very strong party in the city of Paris, to which his house and faction had represented then)selve3 as the preservers of the privileges of the city and university, and enemies to the imposition of excessive taxes. In the dissensions which followed, the dauphin, a young man of feeble talents and no fixed principles, would have fled ASSASSINATION OF ORLEANS 241 with his mother to the town of Melun, but was pursu-ed by the Burgundian party, and brought back by force. Hlood shed seemed so near, that each prince chose his device Orleans, to indicate his possessing the right of regency^ displayed a hand grasping a club full of knots, with the motto — / envy it — alluding to the feeling which he at- tributed to the opposite house. Burgundy, on the other hand, gave a carpenter's plane, with a Flemish motto — Je hovel — that is, / hold — the means of smoothing the knotted club. (1405.) Mutual friends and relations, chiefly of the blood royal, once more interfered, and brought the two contending princes to a solemn agreement. They dismissed their troops on each side, met together in the hotel of the Count de Saint Paul, embraced each other, and took the sacrament at the same time. They were now emi)loyed for a short time in the public cause, the one against the English in Guienne, the other against Calais ; but the campaign proved short and inefficient, and was closed by a truce of one year's duration. It would appear that the hatred of the two dukes be- came the more bitter, that the late reconciliation obliged them to observe certain forms of dissimulation, since in private the Duke of Burgundy, at least, meditated ending the feud by putting his rival to death. It was on the 23d of November that the Duke of Or- leans, being at the queen's apartments, where he usually spent the evening, was summoned to wait on the king im- mediately. While he obeyed this command, and traversed the streets mounted on a mule, accompanied only by two gentlemen and a few valets on foot, he suddenly fell into an ambush posted for the purpose. The leader of these ruffians was one D'Hacquetonville, personally injured, as lie conceived, by the Duke of Orleans. This man struck at the Duke with his battle-axe, and, missing his head, the blow fell on his right hand, which it struck off. '■ i am the Duke of Orleans," cried the party assailed. " It is he whom we seek," answered his assassins with wild 242 PROCEEDINGS OF BURGUNDY. exultation, and, striking the prince from his saddle, they cut him limb from limb by their furious and united as- sault. They had taken every precaution to ensure the perpetration of the murder and their own subsequent es- cape. The streets were strewed with caltrops, for laming, the horses of such as should attempt a pursuit ; a house was set fire to by the assassins, who cried " Fire, fire !" to distract the attention of the people, while the Duke of )rleans's retinue were crying " IMurder !" In the morning, the duke's body was discovered, so much [lacked and dismembered, that the streets were sprinkled with his blood and brains, while some of the limbs could scarcely be found by his weeping attendants. Such, indeed, was th-e inveteracy of the factions, that the Burgundians only said to each other, vt'ith a sneer, " See, if the knotty mace has not been well smoothed by the plane !" The Duke of Burgundy at first affected innocence and surprise. On a threat, however, to arrest some of his followers, he showed such signs of guilt, that the princes of the blood; advised his retiring from Paris to his own dominions, which he did with much precipitation. But when in a place of safety, he recovered his spirits ; and, finding that his party were willing to support him, without much regard to his innocence or guilt, he assembled an army of his own subjects of Burgundy and Flanders, and advanced upon Paris, having with him, as an apolo- gist, or rather vindicator, a doctor in theology, named John Petit, who, in the face of the dauphin and princes of the blood, arraigned the late Duke of Orleans as a traitor, and shar/ielessly justified the Duke of Burgundy for the vile murder accomplished on the body of his neai relation. Tlie Duke of Burgundy, assured of his supe- riority, demanded and obtained from the dauphin, who began now to assume a lead in public affairs, as full a pardon for the death of the unfortunate Orleans as could be put into words. He caused the Admiral of France to be removed frpm office, his chief fault being that he had INSURRECTION IN FLANDEUS. 243 offered with two hundred knights to pursue the murderer: of Orleans. Nor would his demands ha:ve stopped there, had he not suddenly learned that the people of Liege were in arms against his father-in law, their arch.bishop ; and no sooner had Ikirgundy left Paris with his forces to quell this in- surrection in Flanders, than the Orleans faction appeared m arms, in the capital, determined to take merited ven- geance for the foul murder. The number of the Duke of Burgundy's enemies was augmented by the appearance of Valentina, the widowed spouse of the deceased, in the deepest mourning, fcjllowed by all her household in the same attire of woe, seeming to invoke upon the murderer the vengeance dematidcd by the widow and the orphan. And althoug!) the Duchess of Orleans was prevented by fate froui prosecuting her purpose, yet her death, which followed soon after that of her husband, was ascribed to the consequences of his as- sassination, and occasioned additional execrations on the perpetrators of the deed. Owing to the sudden predominance of his enemies, ju- dicial proceedings against the Duke of Burgundy wei'e briskly undertaken before the parliament of Paris, and pushed "on to extremity. The pardon he had obtained from the dauphin was declared void, and the doom of treason denounced against him. Hardly had men sufficiently wondered at this change of fortune, when news arrived, that the Duke of Bur- gundy, having quelled the insurrection of the citizens of Liege after much slaughter, was now approachinir Paris at the head of his army, breathing defiance agamst all his enemies — a threat the more formidable, as the greater part of the populace at Paris were known lo be inHuenced by him ; so much so, that even his vile crime had made no impression in his disfavour on the vloleiit- temjiered citiz.ens, who were little accustomed to regard the life or death of an individual, even although a prince of the blood, or to consider in what manner hs came 244 THE CABOCHINS AND ARMAGNACS. to his grave, provided he fell in the prosecution of a deat'ri feud. The city of Paris, and country of France, were novi split into two violent factions, who distingiiislied them- selves by badges, and by the designations of their parlies. This was the only circumstance which evinced decency and a sense of shame — that they did not distinguish them- selves as Burgundians or Orleanists. The former party wore red sashes, with the cross of Saint Andrew, and were called Cabochins, from Caboche, a butcher, a dis- tinguished partisan of the party of Burgundy. The fol- lowers of Orleans, on the other hand, wore white sashes, with Saint George's cross, and termed themselves Ar- magnacs, from the earl of that name, the father-in-law of the Duke of Orleans, accounted, from his spirit and ac- tivity, the buckler of his cause. He was made Constable of France by his son-in-law's interest, and w-as lo(jked upon as his principal partisan. The Parisians took u^ arms as Cabochins ; and a body of actual butchers were the most active in the cause of Burgundy. The Orleans party moved upon the capital, and threat- ened Paris with a siege. But the Duke of Burgundy threw himself into the city with a body of select troops, part of whom were English, v^'ith which nation-, in the desperation of his hatred to the faction of Armagnac, the duke had made a league. These English auxiliaries were commanded by the Earl of Arundel, and conducted them- selves with such good discipline, that they were of great service to the cause of Burgundy. The Orleans faction, who remarked this advantage of the opposite party, and suffered by it, felt little difficulty in entering into similar transactions on their own part, and opened a treaty with Henry IV. of England. Tlie ofi'ers of the Armagnacs were too high to be neglected by Henry IV., who was just obtaining a breathing time from the troubles and insurrections with which his reign had been successively disturbed — by the Welsh, the Percys, and others, who were dissatisfied with his title or his govern- ment. At this period of quiet, it was natural he should PASSIVE BEHAVIOUR OF CHARLES. 246 look a.broad to France, now engaged in a bloody and re- morseless civil war, and engage to support the party that should grant him the best terms. Or perhaps, in his heart, the English king desired, by assisting the one French party after the other, to prevent the civil Avar from drawing to a conclusion, which afforded England a prospect of recovering her French dominions. It is certain, that, with whatever intention, Henry IV. listened favourably to the proposal of the Oileans or Ar- magnac faction, who offered to surrender all the prov- inces of Gascony to the English, with other advantages. Tempted by these offers, he engaged, 18th of May, 1412. to send to the assistance of the Armagnacs, a thousand inen-at-arms, and three thousand ifi'chers. To show him- self more serious in their support, the King of England's younger son, Thomas of Clarence, was to be appointed general of the auxiliary army. Amid these preparations, in which the horrors of for- eign invas-ion were added to those of civil war, Charles VI. awakened from a long fit of stupor, and became sen- sible, as he sometimes was for intervals, to the distresses of the country of which he wore the nominal crown. Isabella of Bavaria, the wife of the unfortunate king, had contriv^ed to take a great share in the government in the names of her lunatic husband and her youthful son, whose station of next heir to the crown would have given him great authority, had he known how to use it. It was much to the credit of the French, that their loyalty to the king remained unshaken even when in such deplora- ble circumstances. His mandates, when his mind was strong enough to express them, were listened to with re- spect by the chiefs of both parties : and, as the caprice of the queen tlirew her into -the one or the other side of the contending fictions, he was heard to denounce ven- geance for the death of Orleans, his only brother, and on the other hand, undertake the defence of the Duke of Burgundy, his murderer. Tlius passively did the poor king follow the views of 21* 246 Charles's lucid intervals. the faction under whose charge he chanced to be placed for the time, without expressing disgust at his own treat- ment, although we have one anecdote at least tending to show that even his means of living and support were strangely neglected by those who had his person under their control, even though these were at the time his wife and eldest son. So ill, we are assured, was the royal family provided for, that the governess of the royal household once com- plained to the unfortunate king that she had neither money nor means of procuring either provisions or other necessaries for the service of the royal children. " Alas !" said the king, " how can I help you, who am myself re- duced to the same straits ! " He gave her the golden cup out of which he had recently drank, as the means of meeting the immediate necessity. It appears that this unhappy prince, during the rare intervals of his melancholy disease, had the power of seeing, with some degree of precision, the condition in which the country stood at one given moment, and could then form a rational opinion, though he was totally inca- pable of deducing any arguments founded on what had happened before the present moment. His mind Avas like a mirror, which retlects with accuracy the objects presented to it for the time, though it retains no impres- sion of such as formerly passed before it. His judgment, therefore, incapable of 'judging of affairs with a compre- hensive reference to past events, or those who have been actors in them, was entirely decided by the light in which the present circumstances were represented by those in- terested in deceiving him. Charles was therefore not a little indignant, on awaking from his illness in 1412, at finding the Armagnac party far advanced in a treaty, the principal article of which was the introduction of an English army into France ; and while he felt natural resentment at a proceeding so unpatriotic, and so full of danger to his kingdom, he was not aware of the fact, or could not draw the conclusion, thdit the Duke of Burgundy and his party had been guiltj THE FACTIONS RECONCILED. 247 of exnctly the same error when they accepted the assist- ance, under the Earl of Arundel, whiGh had farmed tha most (effective part of their garrison for the defence of Paris. Greatly displeased, therefore, -with the Dukes of Berri and Bourbon, with others included in the Armagnac party, Charles marched in person against them, and besieged the city of Bourges, which was one of their strongholds. They expressed the utmost deference for the king's per- son, but alleged that he had not undertakeu the expedition of l^is own free Avill, protesting at the. same time that, excepting that Charles came, or rather was brought, in company of that licensed murderer, John Duke of Bur- gundy, the gates of Bourges should fly open at the slightest summons in the king's name. AVhile making these fair pretences, the besieged organ- ized a desperate sally, Avith the view of making prisoners of King Charles and his eldest son Louis. In this they were disappointed, and found themselves so hard pressed in their turn, that they were obliged to submit to condi- tions dictated by the king, in which both the parties of Armagnacs and Cabochins were obliged to renounce all their leao-ues with the English. Tlie English, in the meantime, under the Duke of Clarence, arrived, as appointed by the Armagnacs ; and, as demonologists pretend of evil spirits, were much more easily brought into France than dismissed from thence. The Orleans party, by a large sum of ready money, and a much larger in promise, for which hostages were granted, persuaded the English prince to withdraw, but not Avithout doing much damage to the country. The French nobles then assembled together in Paris, without distinction of parties, the very names of the factions being declared unlawful ;■ so anxious did the leaders appear to be to bury the very memory of their dissensions, while secretly they were labouring to rouse and increase them. Peace being thus concluded betwixt the factions, there Beemed to be some chance of stopping the bleeding 248 BURGUNDY GAINS THE ASCENDENCY. wounds of the distracted country ; but the utter d sre- gard to the ordinary bonds of faith between man and man, threw all loose within a short time. A war with England began now to appear a likely event, and a meeting of the States-General was convoked, to find the means of meeting the emergencies of the country ; but they were dissolved without having pro- posed any radical cure for the distresses and dangers under which the kingdom laboured. Louis, dauphin, and heir of the crown, was now be- ginning to take a decided part, independent of his mother the queen, and he naturally cast his eye on the Duke of Burgundy, as the party by whom so incurable a wound had been dealt to the domestic peace of France. In his secret inquiries into this prince"s conduct, he learned, or perhaps pretended to learn, that the duke had laid a plan for destroying the remaining branches of the house of Oi4eans. The informer was a certain Pierre des Essarda, a creature of the Duke of Burgundy, whom he had raised to the dignified and wealthy situation of minister of the finances, and who now, being threatened by the dauphin with an examination of his accounts, changed sides, in the hope of eluding inquiries which he dared not meet. He received orders from the dauphin to secure the Bastile, then in some degree considered as the citadel of Paris. Bugundy, better accustomed to the management of plots than his young kinsman, counteracted so effectually the scheme of the dauphin, that Des Essards no sooner had possessed himself of the Bastile, than all Paris was in uproar. The m'ob. commanded by Caboche, the butcher, took up arms. Des Essards, obliged to surrender the Bastile, was seized upon, and put to death. Caboche and his followers pJso killed some persons in high office about the dauphin's person, and compelled the king himself, with the Dakes of Berri and Bourbon, to go to the par- liament, wearing white hoods, the emblem of the party of Burgundy, — at least of the Parisian mutineers, — and there register such edicts as the multitude were pleased to demand. The same rioters burst into the dauphin'a CHARLES AGAIN RECOVERS. 249 private apartments, having heard the sound of violins there, and behaved with the utmost insolence, putting those who were present in immediate dandier of their 1- lives. Impatient of mob-tyranny, -which is of all others the most difficult to endure, the dauphin once more took measures for recallinu; and arranginij the broken and di?- persed party of the Duke of Orleans. At the call of the heir- apparent, in which he used the name of his fixther, the Orleans party entered Paris, ^vhile, by one of the changes common at the time, the Duke of Burgundy found he could not make his party good in the city, and retired, as was his wont, to his own territories of Flanders. Tije queen, the dauphin, and the other lords, who had thus obtained po-vver, notwitlistanditig their mutual inter- est, could not agree, how much soever it was their inter- est to do so. Isabella of Bavaria had the art to induce most of them to join against the authority assumed by her son, as too absolute and peremptory to be engrossed by one whom she described as a giddy youth, liable to be seduced by evil counsel. The queen even proceeded so far as to break into the dauphin's apartments, and seize upon four attendants of his person, whom she described as agents of the Duke of Burgundy. The young prince w^as so highly oftended at this personal insult, that he wrote to the Duke of Burgundy that he was prisoner in his own capital, and invited him to come with his forces to his deliverance. A slighter invitation would have brought the duke to Paris. He instantly advanced, at the head of a large force of his own vassals. Cliarles, however, had in the meantime a transitory in- terval of recovery, and assumed for a short time the reins of govfrnment. He sent forth an edict, reproaching the duke with the murder of the Duke of Orleans, and pub- lished the confutation of Doctor John Petit s abominable apology for that \ile assassination.- The dauphin Louis, also, whose temper seems to have been fickle and uncertain, again changed his party, and 'i6i) BURGUNDY SUES FOR PEACE. invited the princes of the Orleans faction into the city with sj strong a body of horse, (amounting, it is said, to eight thousand men,) that they were able to disarm the whole citizens, save those of the better classes. He took also away from the Parisians the chains and barri- cades with Avhich they were accustomed to block up their streets, and once more put it out of their power to disturb the public tianquillity. The Duke of Bui-gundy in the meantime advanced towards the walls of the city ; but dismayed at once by the royal edicts launched against him, by the dauphin deserting his cause, and by the reduced state of the Parisians, who used to be his best friends, he retreated as formerly, after a vain attempt on the capital. But the king, surrounded with all the princes of the blood-royal, except the lineage of Burgundy, marched into x\rtois, the territories of the duke, with the pui'pose of completely subduing his tenitories. Ciiarles demand- ed of the towns of Flinders, whether they meant to stand by the duke against their liege lord ? and received the satisfactory answer, that the duke was indeed their imme- diate prince, but tliat it was not their purpose to assist him against the king, their lord paramount, or to shut their gates against their sovereign. The Duke of Burgundy, alarmed at finding liimself deserted by his own immediate subjects of Burgundy and Flanders, began to negotiate for a peace Vvith more sincerity than hitherto. It was concluded accordingly; but the Orleans party refused to sign it. Charles and his son insisted on the signature. " If you would have the peace lasting." said the dau- phin, '-you must sign it ; " which was done accordingly. This pacification, being preceded by the humiliation of the Duke of Burgundy, might be accounted tlie most steady which had yet been attempted between the Arniagnac^ and Cabochins, and appeared to possess a fair chari'**^ of being permanent. liut it was not the pleasure of Heaven to prolong the state of foreign peace, or truce at least, which France had enjoyed during her domestic divisionSj and which CONCLUSION. 251 prevented England from taking advantage of them. During some years Henry IV. of England had reigned, an unpopular king, with an uncertain title, and could not, owing to disturbances at home, profit by the dis- union of the French. But at the time of this pacifica- tion between Charles and his subjects, the English king had just died, and was succeeded by his son, the cele- brated Henry V., a young hero, beloved by the nation, and who breathed nothing save invasion and conquest against his neighbours, the scars of whose disunion were still rankling, though apparently closed. And, as the issue of the strife which ensued was re- markable, I shall here close my Tales for the present, not unwilling to continue them, if they shall be thought as useful as those from the History of Scotland. fME SNP. Standard and Popular Books PUBLISHED BY ;?ORTER & ^OiTEg, PhIMDSLPHIA, Pi. at. Roiian's WtU. Redsaiintlet. The Betrothed ; and The Talisman. Woodstock. The Fair Maid of Perth. Anne of Geiersteiii. Count Robert of Paris; and Castle Dangerous. Chronicles of the Canongate. WAVEELEY NOVELS. By Sib Walter Scott. *\Vaverley. The Fortunes of Nigel. *tjuy Mannering. Peveril of the Peak, The Antiquary. Qucnitin Durward Rob Roy. Black Dwarf; and Old Mortality. The Heart of ISIid-Lothian. The Bride of Lammermoor; and A Legend of Montrose. *I van hoe. The Monastery. TheAl)boit. Keuilworth. The Pirate. Household Edition. 23 vols. Illustrated. 12mo. Clotli, extra, black aud gold, per vol., $1.00; sheep, marbled edges, per vol., $1.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, par vol., $3.00. Sold sepa- rately in cloth binding only. Universe Edition. 25 vols. Printed on thin paper, and con- taining one illustration to the volume. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, per vol., 75 cts. World Edition. 12 vols. Thick 12mo. (Sold m sets only.) Cloth, extra, -black and gold, $18.00 ; half imt. Eussia, marbled edges, $24.00. This is the best edition for the library or for general us^, published. Ttg convenient size, the extreme legibility of the type, which is larger than is used in any other 12mo edition, either English or American. TALES OF A GRANDFATHER. By Sir Walter Scott, Bart. 4 vols. Uniform with the Waverley Novels. Houseliold Edition. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, par vol , $1.00; sheep, marbled edges, per vol., $1.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, per vol., $3.00. This edition contains the Fourth Sories — Tales from French history — and is the oaly complete edition published in this country. (1) PORTER & COATES' PUBLICATIONS. Christmas Books, UneomTnereial Traveller, and Addilional Christinas Stories. Bleak House. Li I lie Dorrit. Tale of Two Cities, and Great Ex- pectations. Our Mutual Friend. Edwin Drood, Sketches, Master Humphrey's Clock, etc., etc. CHARLES DICKENS' COMPLETE WORKS. Author's Edition. 14 vols., with a portrait of the author on steel, and eight illustrations by F. O. C. Darley, Cruikshank, Fildes, Eytinge, and others, in each volume. 12nio. Cloth, extra, black aTul gold, per vol., $1.00 ; sheep, marbled edges, per vol., $1.50 ; half init. Russia, marbled edges, per vol., $1.50: half calf, gilt, marbled edges, per vol., $2.75. *Pickwick Papers. *01iver Twist, Pictures of Italy, and American Notes. *Nicholas Nickleby. Old Curiosity Shop, and Reprinted Pifces. Barnaliy Riida:e, and Hard Times. *Martin (.:huzzlewit. Doiub^'y and Son. *David Copptitield. Sold separately in cloth binding only *AIso in Alta Edition, one illustration, 75 cents. The same. Universe Edition. Pi-inted on tliin paper and con- taining one illustration to the volume. 14 vols., 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, per vol., 75 cents. . The same. World Edition. 7 vols., thick 12mo., $12.25. (Sold in sets only.) CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By Charles Dickens. Popular 12mo. edition; from new electrotype plates. Large clear type. Beautifully illustrated with 8 engravings on wood. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.00. Alta Edition. One illustration, 75 cents. " Dickens as a novelist and prose poet is to be classed in the front rank of the noble company to which h.^ belon}?s. He lias revived tbe novel of genu- ine practical lite, as it existed in the works of Fiek]iiiK,.Smollelt, and (iold- smith; but at the same time has given to his material an individual colorinsj and expression peculiaily liis own. Mis characler.s, like those of his great exemplars, constitute a world of their own, whose truth to nature every reader instinctively recognizes in conuectiou with their truth to daikness." —B. P. Wkipple. MACAULAY'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. From the accession of James II. By Thomas Babington Macaulay. With a steel portrait of the author. Printed from new electrotype plates from the last English Edition. Being by far the most correct edition in the American market. 5 volumes, 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, per set, $5.00; sheep, marbled edges, p?r S3t, $7.50; half imitation Russia, $7.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, per spt, $15.00. Popular Edition. 5 vols., cloth, plain, $5.00. 8vo. Edition. 5 volumes in one, with portrait. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $3.00; sheep, marbled edges, $3.50. MARTINEAU'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. From the beginning of the 19th Century to the Crimean War. By Harriet Mak- TINEAU. Complete in 4 vols., with full Index, Cloth, extra, black and gold, per set, $1.00; sheep, marbled edges, $6.00; half calf, gilt, maibled edges, $12.00. PORTER & COATES PUBLICATIONS. HUME'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. From the invasion of Julius Csesar to the abdication of James II, 1688. By David Hume. Standard Edition. With the author's last corrections and improvements ; to which is prefixed a short account of his life, written by himself. With a portrait on steel. A new edition from entirely new stereotype plates. 5 vols., 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, per set, $5.00; sheep, marbled edges, par set, $7.50; half imitation Eussia, $7.50 ; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, per set, $15.00. ■ Popular Edition. 5 vols. Cloth, plain, $5.00. GIBBON'S DECLINE AND FALL OF THE EOMAN EMPIRE. By Edward Gibbon. With Notes, by Rev. H. H. Milman. Standard Edition. To which is added a complete Index of the work. A. new edition from entirely new stereotype plates. With portrait on steel. 5 vols., 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, per set, $5.00; sheep, marbled edges, per set, $7.50; half imitation Russia, $7.50 ; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, per set, $15.00. Popular Edition. 5 vols. Gloth, plain, $5.00. ENGLAND, PICTURESQUE AND DESCRIPTIVE. By Joel Cook, author of " A Holiday Tour in Europe," etc. With 487 finely engraved illustrations, descriptive of the most famous and attractive places, as well as of the historic scenes and rural life of England and Wales. With Mr. Cook's admirable descriptions of the places and the country, and the splendid il- lustrations, this is the most valuable and attractive book of the season, and the sale will doubtless be very large. 4to. Cloth, extra, gilt side and edges, .$7.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, $10.00; half morocco, full gilt edges, $10.00; full Turkey mo- rocco, gilt edges, $15.00 ; tree calf, gilt edges, $18.00. This work, which Is prepared in elegant style, and profusely illustrated, is a comprehensive description of Englaud aud Wales, arranged in conve- nient form for the tourist, and at the same time providinj:^ an illustrated guide-book to a country which Americans always view with interest. There are few satisfactory works about this land which is so generously gifted by Nature and so full of memorials of the past. Such books as there are, either cover a few counties or are devoted to special localities, or are merely guide- books. The present work is believed to be the iirst attempt to give in attrac- tive form a description of the stately homes, renowned castles, ivy-clad ruins of abbsys, churches, ai)d ancient fortresses, dejir-ious scenery, rock-bound coasts, and celebrated places of England and Wales. It is written by an author fully competent from travel and reading, and in position to properly describe his very interesting subject; and llie artist's pencil has been called into requisition to graphically illustrate its well-written pages. There are 487 illustrations, prepared in the highest style of the engraver's art, while the book itself is one of the most attractive ever presented to the American public. Its method of construction is systematic, following the most convenient routes taken by tourists, and the letter-press iucludes enough of the history and legend of (ach of the places described to make the story highly inter- esting. Its pages fairly overflow with picture and description, tellins of everything attractive that is presented by England and Wale-^. Exeout- d in the highest style of the printer's and engraver's art, "England, Pictur- esque and Descriptive," is one of the best American books of the year. PORTER & COATES' PUBLICATIONS. HISTOEY OF THE CIVIL WAE IN AMEEICA. By the Comte De Paris. With Maps faithfully Eugra-ved from the Origin- als, and Printed in Three Colors. «vo. Cloth, per volume, $3.50; red cloth, extra, Eoxburgh style, uncut edges, $3.50; sheep, library style, $4.50; half Turkey morocco, $6.00. Vols. I, II, and III now ready. The third volume embraces, without abridgment, the fifth and sixth volumes of the French edition, and covers one of the most interesting as well as the most anxious periods of the war, describing the operations of the Army of the Potomac in the East, and the Army of the Cumberland and Tennessee in the West. It contains full accounts of the battle of Chancellorsville, the attack of the monitors on Foi t tjuiuter, the sieges and fall of Yicksburg and Port Hudson ; tlie bactles of Port Gibson and Champion's Hill, and the fullest and most aatheutic account of the battle of Gettysburg ever written. "The bead of the Orleans family has put pen to paper with excellent resulr Our present impression is that it will form by far the best history of the American war." — Athenaeum, London. "We advise all Americans to read it carefully, and judge for themselves if 'the future historian of our war,' of whom we have heard so much, be not already arrived in the Comte de Paris." — Nation, New York. "This is incomparably the best account of our great second revolution that has yet been even attempted. It is so calm, so di- passionate, so accurate iu detail, and at the same time so phiiosopliieal in general, that its reader counts contidontly on finding the complete work thoroughly satisfactory." — Eoeiiing Bulletin, Philadelphia. "The work expresses the calm, deliberate judgment of an experienced military observer and a highly intelligent man. Many of its statements will excite discussion, but we much misiake if it does not take high and permanent ranK among th!> standard histories of the civil war. Inde. d that place has been assigned it by the most competent critics both of this country and abroad.'' — Times, Cincinnati. ' "Messrs. Porter & Coates, of Philadelphia, will publish in a few days the authorized translalion of tlie new volume <>f the Comte de Paris' History of Our Civil War. Thp two volumes in French— the fifth and sixtli— are buund together iu the translation in one volume. Onr leaders already know, thi'ough a tableof contents of these volumes, published in the caMe columns of the Herald,t\vi. period covered bv ihis new installment of a work remnrk- able in sevt-ral ways. It includes the most important and drci^ive period of the war, and ih.' two grp?it campaiiins of Gettysburg and Vicksburg. "The great civil war has had no better, no alik-r historian than the French prince who, emulating the example of Lafayette, tnok part in this new struggle for freedom, and who now writes of events, iu many of which he participat-d, as an accomplished ofBcer, and one who, V>y his independent position, his high cliaracter and eminent talents, was placed in circnm- st:inces and rehitions which gave him almost, uneqnalled oppoituuilies to gain correct information and form impartial .judL'ments. "The new installment of a work which has already become a classic will b- read with increased interest by Americans because of the importance of the period it covers and the stirring evi^nts it describes. In advance of a careful review we present to-day some extracts from the advance sheets sent us l)y Messrs. Porter & Coates, which will give onr readers a foretaste of cliapters which bring back to tnemory so many half-forgotten and not a few hitherto unvalued details of a tfrae which Americans of this geueratlou at ieasl cannot read of without a fresh thrill of excitement." PORTER & COATES' PUBLICATIONS, HALF-HOUES WITH THE BEST AUTHORS. With short Bi- ograpliical aud Critical Notes. By Charles Knight. New Household Edition. With six portraits on steel. 3 vols., thick r2aio. Cloth, extra, black and gold, per set, $4.50; half imt. Eussia, marbled edges, $3.00; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, $12.00. Library Edition. Printed on fine laid and tinted paper. With twenty-four prtrtraits on steel. 6 vols., 12mo. Cloth, extra, per set, $7.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, per set, $18.00; half Eus- sia, gilt top, $21.00; full French morocco, limp, par set, $12.00; full smooth Eussia, limp, round corners, in Eussia case, p^r set, $25.00; full seal grained Eussia, limp, round corners, in Eussia case to match, $25.00. The excellent idea of the editor of these choice volumes has been Biost admirably carried out, as will be seen by tho list of authors iipo i a-1 sub- jects. Selecting some choice passages of till! best ."Standard authors, each of suffi- cient lenaith to occupy half an liour ifi its perusal, ther? is here food for thought for every day in the year: so that if tlie puri^has^r ■will d >vot3 b>it ' one-half hour eacli day to its appropriate selection lie will read tlironih tliese six volumes in one year, and in such a lei--urely manner tliat the noblest thoughts of many of the greatest minds will be firmly in his mitnl forever. For every Siind:iy there is a suitalilj selection fnun som'3 of the most eminent writers in sacred literature. We venture to say if tli3 editor's idea is carried out the reader will possess more and b 'tter kuowled^'e of the F/iiglish cla'^sics at the end of thj year than he would by five years of desul- tory reading. They can be commenced at any day in the year. The variety of readin;; is so great that no one will ever tire of these volumes. It is a library ia itself. THE POETRY OF OTHER LANDS. A Collection of Transla- tions into English Verse of the Poetry of Other Languages, Ancient aud Modern. Compiled by N. Clemmoxs Hunt. Containing ti'anslations from the Greek, Latin, Persian, Ara- bian, Japanese, Turkish, Servian, EussLan, Bohemian, Polish, Dutch, German, Italian, French, Spanish, and Portuguesa languages. 12mo. Cloth, extra, gilt edges, $2.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges-, $1.00; Turkey morocco, gilt edges, §3.00. " Another of the publications of Porter & Coati's, called 'The Poetry rf Other Lands,' compiled by N. Clemmous Hunt, we most warmly commend. It is one of the bjsD culleetious we liave seen, containing many exquisite . poems and fragments of vers? which have not b'^fore been put into book torm in Engli--h words. We find many of the old favorites, v/liic i appt^ar in every well-selected eont'cti)n of sonnets and song-!, and we miss others, which seein a necessity to complete the bouquet of grasses and tiowers, some of v,'hiih, from time to time, we hope to republish in the 'Courier. '"^ Cincinnati Courier. "A book of rare excell 'nee, because it gives a collection of choice gems in many langu:iges not available to the general lover of poet.ry. Itcintains translations from the Greek, Latin, Persian, Arabian, ,rapanes-\ Turkish, Servian, Russian, Bohemian, Polish, Dutch, German, Italian, French, Spanish, and Portuguese languages. The book will be an admirable com- panioM volume to aiiy one of the collections of En^rl sh poetry that are now published. With the full index of authors immediately prect'ding the col- lection, and tlie arrangement of the poems under headings, the reader will find it convenient for reference. It is a gift that will be more valued by very many than some of the transitory ones at these holiday times."-^ PhUadelpkia Methodist. PORTER & COATES' PUBLICATIONS. THE FIRESIDE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF POETEY. Edited by Henry T. Coates. This is the latest, and beyond doubt the best collection of poetry published. Printed on fine paper and illustrated with thirteen steel engravings and fifteen title pages, containing portraits of prominent American poets and fac-similes of their handwriting, made expressly for this book. 8vo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, gilt edges, $5.00; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, $7.50 ; half morocco, full gilt edges, $7.50 ; full Turkey morocco, gilt edges, $10.00; tree calf, gilt edges $12.00; plush, padded side, nickel lettering, $14.00. "The editor shows a wide acquaintance witli the most precious treasures of English verse, and has gatliered the most admirable speciniPTis of their ainplo wealth. Many pieces which have been jiassrd by in previous collec- tions bold a place of honor in the present volume, and will be heartily wel- comed by the lovers of poetry as a delightful addition to their sources of enjoyment. It is a volume rich insolace, in entenainment, in iiispiration, of which the possession may well be coveted by every lover of poetry. The pictorial illustrations of the work are in keeping with its poetic:il contents, and the beauty of the typographical execution entitles it to a place among the choicest ornaments of the library." — New York Tritivne. "Lovers of good poetry will find this one of the richest collections ever made. All the best singers in our language are r. presented, and the selec- tions are generally those which reveal their highest qualities The lights and shades, the finer play of thought and imagination belonging to individual authors, are brought out, in this way iby the arrangement of poems under subject-headings) as they would not be under any other sys- tem We are deeply impressed with the keen appreciation of poetical worth, and also with the good taste manifested by the compiler." — Church- man. " Cyclopedias of poetry are numerous, hut for sterling value of its contents for the library, or as a book of reference, no work of the kind will compare with this aduiirable volume of Mr. Coates It takes the gems from many volumes, culling with rare skill and judgment." — Chicago Inler-Ocean. THE CHILDPtEN'S BOOK OF POETRY. Compiled by Henry T. Coates. Containing- over 500 poems carefully selected from the works of the best and most popular writers for chil- dren; with nearly 200 illustrations. The' most complete col-j lection of poetry for children ever published. 4to. Cloth, extra, black and gold, gilt side and edges, $3.00; full Turkey morocco, gilt edges, $7.50. "This seems to us the best Viook of poetry for children in existence. We have examined many other collections, but we cannot name another that deserves to he compared with this admirable compilation." — Wurcesier Spy. "The special value of the book lies in the fact that it nearly or quite covers the entire field. There is not a creat deal of good poetry wh'icli has been written for children that cannot be found in this book. The collection is particularly Pti'ons in ballnrls and tHb's, wliich are aj^t to interest children more than po;'ms of oth-r kinds; and Mr. Coates has shown good jinl^jment in supplementing this department with some of the best poems ol that class that have been writt'n for irrown people. A surer method of forming the taste of children for good and pure literature than liy reading to them from any portion of this book can hardly be inTieincd. The volume is richly illustrated and beautifully bound." — PhUndelphia Evaning Bulletin. "A more excellent volume cannot be found. We have found within the covers of rhis handsome volume, and upon its fair pages, many of the most exquisite po"ms whicli our language contains. It must become a standard volume, and can never grow old or obsolete." — Episcopal Recorder. PORTER & COATES PUBLICATIONS. THE COMPLETE WORKS OF THOS. HOOD. With engravings on steel. 4 vols., 12uio., tinted paper. Poetical Works ; Up the Ehine; Miscellanies and Hood's Own; Whimsicalities, Whims, and Oddities. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $6.00; red cloth, paper label, gilt top, uncut edges, $6.00; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, $14.00; half Eussia, gilt top, $18.00. Hood's veise, whether serious or romic — wliether. serene like a cloudless autiimu evening or sparkling with puns like a frosty January midnight ■with stars — was ever pregnant with materials for the thought. Like every author distinguished for true comic humor, there was a deep vein of melan- choly pathos running through his mirth, and even wlien his sun shone briafhlly its light seemel ofteu reflected as if only over the rim of a cloud. Well may we say, in the words of Tennyson, "Would he could have stayed with us." for never could it be more truly recorded of any one— in the words of Hamlet characterizing Yorick — that "he was a fi^Uow of in- finite jest, of most excellent fancy." D. M. MoiK. THE ILIAD OF HOMER RENDERED INTO ENGLISH BLANK VERSE. By Edwaed, Earl op Derby. From the latest London edition, with all the author's last revisions and corrections, and with a Biographical Sketch of Lord Derby, by R. Shelton Mackenzie, D.C.L. With twelve steel engravings from Flaxman's celebrated designs. 2 vols., 12mo. Cloth, extra, bev. boards, gilt top, $3.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, $7.00 ; half Turkey morocco, gilt top, $7.00. The same. Popular edition. Two vols, in one. 12mo. Cloth, extra, $1 50. "It must equally he considered a splendid performance; and for the pres- ent we have no hesitation in saying iliat it is by far the best representation of Homer's Iliad in the English language." — London Times. "The merits of Lord Derby's translation may be summed up in one word, it is eminently attractive; it is instinct with life; it may be read with fervent interestii it Is immeasurably nearer than Pope to the text of the original. . . . . Lord Derby has given a version far more closely allied to the original, and superior to any that has yet been attempted in the blank verse of our language." — Edinburg Review. THE WORKS OF FLAVIUS JOSEPHUS. Comprising the Anti- qtiities of the Jews ; a History of the Jewish Wars, and a Life of Flavins Josephus, written by himself. Translated from the original Greek, by William Whistox, A.M. Together with numerous explanatory Notes and seven Dissertations concern- ing Jesus Christ, John the Baptist, James the Just, God's com- mand to Abraham, etc., with an Introductory Essay by Rev. H. Stebbi!s-g, D.D. 8vo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, plain edges, $3.00; cloth, red, black and gold, gilt edges, $1.50; sheep, marbled edges, $3.50; Turkey morocco, gilt edges, $8.00. This is the largest type one volume edition published. THE ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE EGYPTIANS, CARTHA- GINIANS, ASSYRIANS, BABYLONIANS, MEDES AND PERSIANS, GRECIANS AND MACEDONIANS. Including a History of the Arts and Sciences of the Ancients. By Charles Rollin. With a Life of the Author, by James Bell. 2 vols., royal 8vo. Sheep, marbled edges, per set, $6.00. PORTEK & COATES PUBLICATIONS. COOKERY FROM EXPERIENCE. A Practical Guide for Jlouse- keepcrs in the Preparation of Every-day Meals, coutaining more than One Tliousand Domestic Recipes, mostly tested by Personal Experience, with Suggestions for Meals, Lists of Meats and Vegetables in Season, etc. By Mrs. Saea T. Paul. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.50. Interleaved Edition. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.75. THE COMPARATIVE EDITION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. Both Versions in One Book. The proof readings of our Comparative Edition bave been, gone over by so many competent proof readers, that we believe the text is absolutely correct. Large 12mo., 700 pp. Cloth, extra, plain edges, $1.50; cloth, extra, bevelled boards and carmine edges, $1.75 ; imitation panelled calf, yellow edges, $2.00; arabesque, gilt edges, $2.50; French mo- rocco, limp, gilt edges, $4.00; Turkey morocco, limp, gilt edges, $6.00. The Comparative New Testament has been published by Porter & Coates. In parallel columns on each page are given the old and new versions of the Testament, divided also as far as practicable into comparative verses, s-o that it is almost impossible for the slightest new word to escape the notice of either the ordinary reader or the analytical student. It is decidedly the best edition yet published of the most interest-exciting literary production of the day. No more convenient form for comparison could be devised either for economizing time or labor. Another feature is the foot-notes, and there is also given in an appendix the various words and expressions preferred by the American members of the Revising Commission. The work is handsomely printed on excellent paper with clear, legible type. It contains nearly 700 pages. THE COUNT OF MONTE CEISTO. By Alexandre Dumas. Complete in one volume, with two illustrations by George G. White. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.25. THE THREE GUARDSMEN. By Alexandre Dumas. Com- plete in one volume, with two illustrations by George G. White. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.25. There is a magic influence in his pen, a magnetic attraction in his descrip- tions, a fertility in his literary resources which are characteristic of Dumas alone, and the seal of the master of light literature is set upon all his works. Even when not strictly historical, his romances give an insight into the hal)its and modes of thought and action of the people of the time described, which are not oifered in any other author's productions. THE LAST DAYS OF POMPEII. By Sir Edward Bulwee Lytton, Bart. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.00. Alta edition, one illustration, 75 cts. JANE EYRE. By Charlotte Beonte (Currer Bell). New Li- brary Edition. With five illustratiotis by E. M. Wimperis. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.00. SHIRLEY. By Chaelotte Beonte (Currer Bell). New Library Edition. With five illustrations by E. M. WiMPEEis. 12mo. Clothj extra, black and gold, $1.00. PORTER & COATES PUBLICATIONS. VILLETTE. By Charlotte Bronte (Currer Bell). New Library- Edition. Witli five illustrations by E. M. Wimperis. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, |1.00. THE PEOFESSOE, EMMA and POEMS. By Charlotte Bronte (Currer Bell). New Library Edition. With five illustrations by E. M. Wimperis. 12ino. Cloth, extra, black and gold, §1.00. Cloth, extra, black and gold, per set, $4.00; red cloth, paper label, gilt top, uncut edges, per set, $5.00 ; balf calf, gilt, per set, $12.00. The four volumes forming the complete works of Char- lotte Bronte (Currer Bell). The wondrous power of Currer Bell's stories consists in their fiery insight into Hie human heart, their mercile.ss disseciion of passion, and their stern analysis of character and motive. The style of these productions possesses iiicndilile force, sometimes almost grim in its bare severity, then relapsing into p:issaa;es of melting pathos— always direct, natural, and eifective in its unpreteudlns,' strength. They exhibit, the identity which always belongs to ■works of Reuiiis by the same author, though without the slightest approach to monotony. The characters portrayed by Currer Bell all have a strongly •marlted individuality. Once brought bpforo the imagination, they haunt tue memory like a strango dream. The sinewy, muscular strength of her writings guarantees their permanent duration, and thus i'ar they have lost nothing of their inteusity of interest since the period of their composition. CAPTAIN JACK THE SCOUT; or. The Indian Wars about Old Fort Daquesiie. An Historical Novel, with copious notes. By Charles McKnight. Illustrated with eight engravings. i2mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.50. A work of sueh rare merit and thrilling interest as to have been repiib- lislieJ b'jth in England and Germany. This genuine American historical woik ha< been received with extraordinary popular favor, and has "won golden opinions from all sorts of people" for its freshness, iis forest life, and its fiJelily to truth. In many instances it even corrects History and uses the drapory of fietion simply to enliven and illustrate the fact. It is a universal favorite with boih sexes, and with all ages and condi- tions, and is not only proving a marked and notable success in this country, but ha-i been eagerly taken up abroad and republished in London, England, and issued in two volumes in the far-lamed " Tauchuetz Edition " of Loipsic, Germany. OEANGE BLOSSOMS, FEESH AND FADED. By T. S. Arthur. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.50. "Orange Blossoms" contains a number of short stories of society. Like all of Mr. Arthur's works, it has a special moral purpose, and is especially addressed to the young who have just entered the marital experience, whom it pleasantly warns against those social and moral pitfalls into which they may almost innocently plunge. THE BKR EOOMS AT BEANTLEY; or, The Great Hotel Spec- ulation. By T. S. Arthur. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.50. " One of the best temperance stories recently issued." — N. Y. Commercial Advertiser. ' "Although it is in the form of a novel, its truthful delineation of charac- ters is such that in every village in the land you meet the broken manhood it pictures upon the streets, and look upon sad. tear-dimmed eyes of women and children. The characters are not overdrawn, but are as truthful as an artist's pencil could make them." — Iitier-Ooecet, Ckiooffo. 10 PORTER & COATES' PUBLICATIONS. EMMA. By Jane Austen. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth,' extra, $1.25. MANSFIELD PARK. By Jane Austen. Illustrated. 12ino. Cloth, extra, $1.25. PRIDE AND PREJUDICE; and Northanger Abbey. By Jane Austen. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, extra, $1.25. SENSE AND SENSIBILITY; and Persuasion. By Jane Austen. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, extra, $1.25. The four volumes, forming the complete works of Jane Austen, in a neat box : Cloth, extra, per set, $5.00 ; red cloth, paper label, gilt top, uncut edges, $5.00; half calf, gilt, per set, $12.00. "Jane Austen, a woman of whom England is justly proud. In her novels she has given us a multitude of characters, all, in a certain sense, common- place, all such as we meet everyday. Yet they are all as perfectly discrimi- nated from each other as if they were the most eccentric of human beinps. .... And almost all this is done by touches so delicate that they elude analysis, that they defy the powers of description, and that we know them to exist only by the general effect to which they have contributed." — Ma- cauiay's Assays. ART AT HOME. Containing in one volume House Decoration, by Rhoda and Agnes Gaekett; Plea for Art in the House, by W. J. LoFTiE ; Music, by John Hullah ; and Dress, by Mrs. Oliphant. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.50. TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS AT RUGBY. By Thomas Hughes. Nev\r Edition, large clear type. With 36 illustra- tions after Caldecott and others. 12nio., 400 pp. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.25 ; half calf, gilt, $2.75. Alta Edition. One illustration, 75 cents. , "It is difficult to estimate the amount of good which may be done by 'Tom Brown's School L»ays.' It gives, in the main, a most faithful and intt'resting picture of our public schools, the most English institutions of England, and which educate the best and most powerful elements in our upper classes. But it is more than this; it is an attempt, a very noble and successful attempt, to Christianize the society of our youth, through the only practicable channel— hearty and brotherly sympathy with their feel- ings; a book, in short, which a father might well wish to see in the hands of his son." — London Times. TOM BROWN AT OXFORD. By Thomas Hughes. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.50 ; half calf, gilt, $3.00. "Fairly entitled to the rank and dignity of an English classic. Plot, style afld truthfulness are of the soundest British character. Bacy, idiomatic, mirror-like, alwavs interesting, suggesting thought on the knottiest social anf. religious questions, now deeply moving by its unconscious pathos, and anon inspiring uproarious laughter, it is a work the world will not willingly let die." — N. Y. Christian Advocate. PORTER & COATES' PUBLICATIONS, 11 SENSIBLE ETIQUETTE OF THE BEST SOCIETY. By Mrs, H. O. Ward. Customs, manners, morals, and home culture, with suggestions how to word notes and letters of invitations, acceptances, and regrets, and general instructions as to calls, rules for watering places, lunches, kettle drums, dinners, re- ceptions, weddings, parties, dress, toilet and manners, saluta- tions, introductions, social reforms, etc., etc. Bound in cloth, with gilt edge, and sent by mail, postage paid, on receipt of $2.00. LADIES' AND GENTLEMEN'S ETIQUETTE: A Complete Manual of the Manners and Dress of American Society. Con- taining forms of Letters, Invitations, Acceptances, and Eegrets. With a copious index. By E. B. Duffey. 12mo, Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1,50. "It is peculiarly an American boob, e.