1 iiiili HISTORY OP FRANCE, FBOai THK CONQUEST OF GAUL BY JULIUS CiESAR GI THE REIGN J3FmL0UIS PHILIPPE- CONVERSATIONS AT THE END>^OF EACH CHAPTEK.* BY MRS. M A R K H A M. C . 1' ^-:^' rSEPARED FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS BY THE ADDlTIOi^ OK A IIAF, NOTES, AND QUESTIONS, AND A SUPPLEMENTART CHAPTER, BRINGING DOWN THE HISTORY TO THE PRESENT TIME. ,^ BY JACOB ABBOTT NEW YORK: HARPER &, BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS 3S9 & 331 PEARL STREET. fRANKLlW SQUARE 1876. Q^ CONGRESS p Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and forty-eight, by Harper & Brothers, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of New York. Copyright, 1876, by Jacob Abbott. INTRODUCTION BY THE AUTHOR. Litter from Richard Markham to his Mother. Dear Mamma, I BELIEVE I told you iu my last letter, that George and I are removed into a higher class ; but I forgot to say that one of the advantages of our promotion is, that we are aUow^ed access to a school library of all sorts of useful and amusing books, vi^hich Dr. has formed for the use of the upper boys. The first book I happened to take out was Turner's Tour in Normandy, a most entertaining book. If you have not read it, pray send for it. There is a great deal in it about the old Norman kings of England, which, thanks to the history of England that you wrote for us when we were little boys, understood perfectly ; but there are also several allusions tc French history, which I am obliged to pass over without comprehending ; so that I lose a great deal of pleasure. Now, my dear mamma, George and I have a favor to ask of you, which is, that you will be so kind as to write a history of France for us against we come home at the holidays. For, to pay th3 truth, we both of us feel quite ashamed of knowing BO Httle of the history of a people who are our nearest neigh' bor?, and with whom we have often had so much to de vi INTRODUCTION BY THE AUTHCR. Pray let me have an immediate answer; for George and 1 are very impatient to know whether you will grant us this ret^uest. "With love and duty to papa, and love to dear littl* ATary, I am, my dear mamr^ia, Your dutiful and most affectionate Son, Richard Markium Mrs. Marhham, in Answer. My Dearest Boy, You know that your father and I have no wish more a1 heart than to promote the improvement and happiness of oui children. I shall, therefore, have real pleasure in complying with your wishes, as far as my powers and opportunities wili permit ; but you must give me more time for my task than, in your impatience, you seem willing to allow : for I shall have many books to read and refer to ; and the more, because the French literature abounds with memoirs, which are not less entertaining, nor indeed instructive, than regular histo- ries. Be assured, however, that I will do my best to make my little compilation worth your acceptance ; and that, if I fail, it will not be for want of industry, nor from a want of desire to give you pleasure. Accept the prayers and best wishes of your father and mother for your health and happi- ness, with the kind love of your sister, and believe me ever my dear Richard. Youi affectionate Mother, BY THE EDITOR. T:iE History cf France, by Mrs. Markham, is a very clear succinct, and entertaining narrative. It seems well adapted to its purpose of communicating, either to the general reader or to a class of pupils in a literary seminary, a distinct ant connected idea of the progress of events of which that most remarkable country has been the scene. A very full and carefully executed map of France, not con- tained in the original work, has been provided for this edition ; and in respect to all places of any importance mentioned in the work, there are notes of reference to facilitate finding them upon the map. To carry in the mind a distinct idea of the locahties referred to, in reading history, is always of very essen tial importance. No clear and correct ideas can be obtained without it. There is, in fact, no pleasure in reading history without it, and no possibility of laying up the facts perma- nently in the memory. I would therefore most strongly rec- ommend, both to individual readers, and to classes in literary institutions, who may use this book, to carry the map, and a distinct conception of all the locahties, with them, everj' step of the way. Sometimes the progress of the history carries he reader beyond the confines of France, into the Nether- lands — ^into Italy — into Spain — and, in the case of the Cru sades, to Asia Minor and to the Holy Land. It being not convenient to insert maps of all these countries in this volumo, "m INTBODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. the reader must seek tliem from other sources ; and i would very strongly urge upon teachers the necessity of soeing that their classes have access to su sh maps, by means of the atlases in ordinary use, and that they trace upon them, in a careful and thorough manner, the track of the armies, and the courses of the expeditions, whose movements aie recorded in the history, AaisoTTs' Institution, Nbw York Citt, Aug., 184& CONTENTS. 1.— rRUM THE CONQUEST OF GAUL BY JULIUS CiESAR, TO THE IX- TINCTIOS OF THE ROMAN POWER BY CLOVIS 13 2. — TO THE ACCESSION OF CHARLEMAGNE - 20 3. — THE CARLOriNGIAN RACE 29 4. — THE CARLOVINGIAN RACE — CONTINUED.- 42 5. — THE CARLOVINGIAN RACE — CONCLUDED 51 6. — HUGH CAPET 64 7. — ROBERT, SURNAMED THE PIOUS 72 8. — HENRY 1 80 9. — PHILIP I 88 10. — LOUIS VI., SURNAMED THE FAT - 101 11. — LOUIS VII., SURNAMED THE YOUNG 110 12. — PHILIP II., SURNAMED AUGUSTUS - 125 13. — LOUIS VIIL, SURNAMED THE LION ISsJ 14. — LOUIS IS., OR SAINT LOUIS 146 15. — PHILIP III., SURNAMED THE BOLD... 159 16. — PHILIP IV., SURNAMED THE FAIR 170 17. — LOUIS X., SURNAMED HUTIN — PHILIP V., SURNAMED THE LONG — CHARLES IV., SURNAMED THE FAIR 183 18. — PHILIP VI. OF VALOIS, SURNAMED THE FORTUNATE 192 19. — JOHN, SURNAMED THE GOOD 202 20. — CHARLES v., SURNAMED THE WISE - 216 21. — CHARLES VI., SURNAMED THE WELL BELOVED . 224 22. — CHARIES VII., SURNAMED THE VICTORIOUS -. 239 23. — LOUIS XI -. - — --- 255 24. — CHARLES VIIL, SURNAMED THE AFFABLE 272 25. — LOUIS XII., SURNAMED THE FATHER OF THE PEOPLE 28^ 26. — FRANCIS I -...„. 291 X CONTENTS. CHAP. PA«I 2". — HENRY II. .-. 318 28. — FRANCIS II 330 29. — CHARLES IX 339 30. — HENRT III 357 31. — HENRT IV., SURNAMED THE GREAT 371 32. — LOUIS XIII., SURNAMED THE JUST 388 33. — LOUIS XIV 406 34. — LOUIS XIV. — IN CONTINUATION 427 35. — LOUIS XV 452 36. — LOUIS XV. — IN CONTINUATION 467 87. — LOUIS XVI 483 38. — LOUIS XVI. — IN CONTINUATION . ........... 497 39. — THE REPUBLIC 522 40. — NAPOLEON 545 41. — LOUIS XVIII 566 42. — CHARLES X 571 43.— LOUIS PHILIPPE 565 INDEX Ml QVEOTIOKS . „ MS LIST OF ILLUSTKATIONS. ;. — ^PrakcwI. ^ S.— Clovis 12 3.— Throne of Dagobert 20 4, — Charlemagne 29 5.— Ladies of the Twelfth Century 4S 6. — Ruins of the Castle of.Montlhery 51 7.— Chiteau Galllard 62 8.— Robert 72 9. — Knight arrayed for a Tournament SO 10. — Figures taten from Monuments of the Twelfth Century 83 11. — Ladies in the dress of the Fifteenth Century 101 12. — Front of the Church of Notre Dame, in Paris - 110 v3.— St. Denis 113 14.— The Louvre in 1360 125 ^5.— Thibaud, Count of Champagne 139 16. — Church of Cluerqueville near Cherbourg 14.5 17. — Blanch of Castile. — St. Louis -. 146 18.— Castle of Joinville 156 19. — Robert, Count of Clermont. — The Lady of Bourbon 159 20. — ^A Knight Templar. — Charles of Anjou, King of Sicily... 170 21. — Avignon .. .. 175 22. — Huntsmen and Valet of Philip the Fair ..., 183 23. — Vincennes 190 84. — ^John de Montford and his Countess. — Charles de Bloia .. .... 192 25. — A Crossbow-man 201 86.— King John.— The Earl of Alenijon, killed at Cressy 202 27.— Charles V 217 38. — The Constable Du Guesclin 219 19. — Citizens of Paris in the Reign of Charles V -. 224 W. — Combat between Macaire and the Dog of Montargis .. 233 U. — Philip the Bold, Jolm the Fearless, Philip the (rood, Dukes of Bur- gundy 23S 12. — John, Duke of Bourbon. — Arthurof Bretagne. — John IV., Dukes of Bretagne .. 244 13 —A French Postillion of the Fifteenth Century 251 " — A Couitier of the Fifteenth Certua-y. — Charles VIIL — S73 12 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS txan 35.— Louis XII. at Table 286 36. — The Emperor Maximilian - 294 37.— Chancellor Du Prat and his Wife... 297 38. — Mad Margeret 311 39.— Henry II 318 40.— The Tilting between Henry II. and the Count de Montgomeri ... 323 41. — Claude and Francis, Dukes of Guise 330 42.— Gate of the Townof Moret 333 43. — Catherine de Medicis and Charles IX 339 44. — Monument of Montmorenci 356 45. — Henry III. and his Clueen 357 46. — Valet and Footman of Henry III. 365 47. — Henry IV., Clueen, and Daaphin 371 48.— Pont-Neuf and Tour de Nesle 378 49. — Gentleman and Lady going to Court 338 50.— Gaston, Duke of Orleans 399 51. — Louis XrV., Madame de Maintenon, and Philip, Dake of Orleans 406 52.— Louis XIV. hunting : 418 53.— Statue of Comeille 427 54.— Louis XIV 441 55. — The Grand Dauphin and Ninon de L'Enclos. . 452 56. — House of Madame de Sevign^ 466 57. — ^Equestrian Statue of Louis XV. - 467 58.— The Bastile 483 59. — Ruins of Marie Antoinette's Farm at Trianon 493 60.—The Tuileries 497 61.— Tower of the Temple 523 62. — Bobespierre and Danton . . 537 83. — Napoleon Bonaparte , .. 5iS 84.— Foitaine de Palmier , Ml Eng^'by %' Kerotle , HISTORY OF FRANCE. CHAPTER I FEOM THE CONaUEST OF GAUL BY JULIUS CAESAR, TO THIS EXTINCTION OF THE ROMAN POWER BY CLOVIS [B.C. 60 to A.D. 487.] CtOVlB. Before we begin, our history, we will open the map, and take a survey of France. We shall there see what an ex- tensive country it is, and what distinct boundaries nature has placed around it. The sea, the Pyrenees, and the Alps, in- cluding among the Alps the great chain of the Jura, almost encompass tliis fortunate region, except on one side, the side toward Germany. France, thus placed, as you see, in the center of the tem- perate zone, enjoys a delightful climate. The air is pure, and is in great measure free from the oppressive heat which IS felt in Italy, and from the f^gs that are sc common in thfl north of Europe UN '^^ c\ ^^^ ^^C^<^°^ MOStlMOSIN ^ S- F.KAN rE I N lljrT.U.«...« hfly. M,.\ l\v.r l,»tiu Hiiivl^nxl. .■/■ Iht .iV.i,-(i «.,■ (fir l)lmi.l..n ..f lT„.liu K..,.wl«V. Mw »Ji ;..M.ii 4..v ;''-l .-i.'.) .>v J- r-tr-irT.-,rT;. vrr.. s-%-^r->^ S.Hi\t>: A/..U'mi>um, J.J.«Jl» IfciunJ JfuJfiiii ^O.VVO^ . ^i- '^i" ^*5- -<^ S <■ Jlua- HARPER i BROTHE.RS, NEW YOR fo^'^ / J -I ^l-< O.Y 3iiig'»T>y "W K.- 4 I ROM THE ROMAN CONQUEST [Chap. I Most plants tod fruits that can contribute to the enjoy- ment of man grow in France in great abundance. It is a land diversified with fertile plains, hills, woods, and rivers ; and I believe I do not exceed the truth in asserting that, of all the kno\vn countries of the world, this is, on the whole, the most favored by nature. With regard to the inhabitants, it is of course difficult to give a decided character of a nation containing nearly thirty millions of people ; but I am inclined to think that the French arc, in general, a cheerful, light-hearted race, of feelings quick and impetuous for the moment, but not deep or lasting. And though many shocking acts of savage cruelty are found to ilisgrace the different periods of their history, these have, I suppose, beei owing rather to the sudden ebullitions of un^ subdued and selfish passion than to any habitual asperity of disposition. Indeed, I believe that in their common inter- course with one another they are remarkably good-natured and kind-hearted. But let us look once more on the map. The country is now divided into eighty-six departments. The name of each of these departments, with a few exceptions, is taken from the chief river or rivers that run through it. Formerly France was divided into twenty-six provinces.^ Most of these provinces were, at one time or other, either httle in- dependent sovereignties, or principalities dependent on the king as feudal chief. These little sovereignties and princi- pahties were by degrees all merged in the crown, making the king of France one of the most powerful and absolute monarchs in Europe. How all these changes took place you shall hear in the course of this history. The earliest knowledge we have of France is from the Romans,, who speak of it under the name of Gallia, or Gaul, and describe the inhabitants as a very warhke people, who, in the early times of the Roman history, made frequent incur- sions into Italy, and even to the very walls of Rome itself. The Romans in their turn made reprisals on Gaul, and, 124 years before Christ, founded a colony at Aix, in Provence. t Provence itself has indeed acquired its name from having been made at this early time a Roman province. * The cliansje was made at the revolution. The object was to extin puish tlie jealousies and animosities which prevailed in the provinces, these lara:e and ancient divisions having had a sort of seminational char BCter. We preserve the division into provinces in the map, as it is the past histoi-y of Franrie, rather tlian its present condition, with which this work has to do. t Jn the southeastern part of the map. 13 C. 60- J rO THE TIME OF CLOVIS. 13 Fifty years before Christ, Julius Ceesar completed tlie con- quest of Gaul, after a bloody war which had lasted ten years, and is said to have destroyed a large portion of its inliahitants. Gaul was now reduced to the condition of a Roman pro- vince, and was governed by Roman laws. In the reign of Augustus it was divided into four proArinces — Gallia Nar- bonensis, to tl.e south and Boutheast ; Aquitania, to the west and southwest ; Gallia Belgica, to the northeast ; and Gallia Celtica, in the northwest, and in the center. The Romans continued undisturbed masters of this fine territory' during two whole centuries ; but aboiit the year 260 various nations of barbarians began to make incursions into it, and in 411 and 418 the Burgundians and the Visigoths, two nations of Germany, succeeded in obtaining from the emperox Honorius settlements in the southern parts of the country. The most formidable enemies wliich the Romans had to contend with were a people who inhabited the districts lying on the lower Rhine and the Weser, and who called them- selves Franks — an appellation which it is said they had assumed to express their rooted determination to be free. These people invaded Gallia Belgica, and, after a conturued struggle of 130 years, succeeded m making themselves mas- ters of a considerable tract of land, and estabhshed their capital at Treves.* Dm'ing this period the names of Pharamond, Merovee, and many others, have been handed down to us as kings of the Franks. Indeed Pharamond, like our own king Arthur, has been made a hero of romance, and the name of Merovingian has been given to the race of the earliest French kings, on account of their supposed descent from Merovee. But the mention of these monarchs in the old chronicles is so obscure, that modern writers have doubted whether they ever existed. It is, however, very certain, that in the fifth century the Franks became a powerful people, and gave the name of France to their conquests in Gaul ; and that ui the year 458 there was a king called Childeric, who extended his terri- tories to the banks of the Loire. There is even a story thai after a siege of ten years he took the city of Paris. Paris had been originally founded by the Celts, the mos\ ancient inhabitants of Gaul : Caesar himself speaks of it by the name of Lutetia ; but in his time it consisted of only a few circular huts, built of earth and wood, and thatched with * Northeast of France, on the Moselle. See the map for this and alt subsequent references of tins nature >b FROM THE ROMAN CONQUEST iChap. 1 reeds. The E-omans adorned it with many noble buildings , and some of their baths, and the remains of a magnificent palace, built by the emperor Julian, are still to be seen. When conquered by the Franks, it was esteemed a consider- able place, although the whole of it was then contained with- m the limits of the little island of the Seine, which now forma the center and smallest part of the present magnificent city. The Burgundians and the Visigoths were established in Gallia Narbonensis. The Huns, Alans, with other bar- barous people, overran -Aquitania, and the Romans found themselves reduced to the narrov/ limits of the country which lay between the Seine and the Loire, which was called A.rmorica, a part of which now forms the province of Bre- tagne. Here they continued for a time to maiatain them.- selves as a separate state. - Gaul thus contained five, if not more, distinct states, each of which consisted of a different people, and kept up a con- tinual warfare with all the others. By degrees the lesser states were swallowed up by the more powerful ones, and in process of time the Franks became sole masters, and gave the name of France to the whole country ; but this was not tiU a long time after the period we are now speaking of. About the year 500 the little state of Armorica was extin- guished by the victories of Clovis, king of the Franks,4he son and successor of ChUderic, and the principal founder of the French monarchy. Christianity was introduced into Gaul in the second century. The first Christian bishop was Pothinus, bishop of Vienne CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER I. liichard. I suppose there are a great many Roman re- mains left in France ? Mrs. Marklmm. By much the most celebrated are thosd at and near Nismes. The Roman amphitheater wdiich stiU exists in this town is often compared with that at Verona, and even with the Coliseum itself There stiU exist also near Nismes the remains of a noble aqueduct, one part of which, stretching across the valley of the little river Gardou, is almost perfect, and has now the name of the Pont du Gard. Travelers assure us that it is necessary to see it over and over again to be able to form any just idea of its grandeur, sym* m^^try, and beauty There is also at Nismes another very joKv.- TO THE TIME OF CLOVIS. 17 noble ruin, called the Maison Carree, wliich was erected by the emperor Augustus to the memory of the two sons of Agrippa : it is still in a state of excellent preservation. All the surrounding rubbish has been cleared away, and the greatest care is taken to protect it from injury, which is, mdeed, only what it merits, since we are assured that it is an exquisite model in architecture. There are also very con- siderable Roman remains to be found all along the banks of the Rhone, from Lyons to Aries.* But one of the most singular vestiges cf the great works of that extraordinary people is an amphitheater of earth, which is to be found in Normandy. George. That must be very curious indeed : I can not imagine how a building of earth could have stood so long. Mrs. M. I was going to explain to you, that this is not a building raised from the ground, but a work formed out of the ground itself In the center was hollowed out an arena.. and round it were terraces for the spectators to stand or sit, where they might view the games. Unfortunately no care seems to have been taken for the preservation of this singular monument of antiquity ; but the form of the arena and the position and number of the terraces are still visible. Advant- age was doubtless taken of the natural shape of the ground,, as in some few other similar cases, which are elsewhere to bt found. Richard. Pray, mamma, what part of France was Cisal pine Gaul? Mrs. M. Cisalpine Gaul was no part whatever of the country called Gaul, properly speakmg. It was a tract of land on the Italian side of the Alps, of which the Gauls, be- fore they were conquered by the Romans, had at one time made themselves masters. Ricfiard. How wonderful it is that the Romans, who were, in a manner, the masters of the world, should have let themselves be conquered by a set of barbarians ! Mrs. M. It certainly is very extraordinary that the power of a great and enlightened people should have been so totally subverted : but, in fact, the immense extent of the Roman empire was one of the chief causes of its destruction. It fell to pieces, as it were, by its own weight. Other causes, also, conduced to its overthrow : the Romans of the latter times were not like those of the former, but were become enervated by indolence and luxury. From that time, particularly wh'3H * Aries is near the mouth of the Rhone. 18 FROM THE ROMAN CONQUEST LCHAr. 1 the seat of empire was removed from Rome to Constantinople, a general decay of physical and moral power became apparent throughout the empire. The emperors were more like eastern monarchs than like what we might have expected the de- scendants of the old E-omans to be. The efleminacy of the court spread to the camp, and all classes of the people seemed to degenerate, and to become incapable of opposing any efiec- tual resistance to the inroads of the barbarians. Richard. Were the Visigoths and Ostrogoths the same people ? Mrs. M. The Goths all came originally from the north of Europe. The names of Visigoth and Ostrogoth were at first merely given to distinguish the eastern Goths from the west ern. Geoi'ge. They were very stupid people, were they not ? I have often heard stupid people called " Goths." Mrs. M. It is probable that when they first came from their forests in the North they had no great taste for the fine arts ; but I do not believe that they desei-ved to have their name used as a term of opprobrium. They were indeed the least savage of all the barbarous people who overran the south of Europe. They were governed by a code of laws of their own, and appeared to have made some progress toward civili- zation. They even encouraged the study of philosophy, and were noted for their kindness and hospitality to strangers. Their name, I think, ought to bespeak them some favor, for the word Goth was derived from goten, good, Kichard. What sort of people were the Franks ? Mrs. M. They are described as being naturally hvely and active, but at the same time impetuous and restless, and were noted for being the most cruel of all barbarians, and fonder of war than of peaceable occupations. George. What sort of weapons did they use ? Mrs. M. Bows and arrows were the arms they originally used; but after their conquests in France we read of their having a gi'eat variety of weapons. They had the franbisquei a two-edged axe, fastened to a short wooden handle ; and their method of using it Avas to hurl it at their enemies, at the first signal of combat. They had, also, another very formidable instrument of war, the anga^i, which was a lance furnished at the end with a barbed hook hke^a fish-hook. Besides these they had swords and darts. They wore very little defensive armor excepting the buckler. Every Frank v/ho was ca- pable of bearing arms was a soldier : they always fought oc CoNv.l TO THE TIME OF CLOVIS. 19 foot, except the general or chief, who alone fought on horse- back Mary. If all the men went out fighting, how did they manage ahout sowing their corn, and getting in the harvest '' Mrs. M. As war and the chase were the sole occupations af the Franks, they left the cares and labors of agriculture tc their slaves. Richard. Then the Franks, it seems, had slaves, as well as the Saxons ? Mrs. M. The prisoners they took in war were their slaves. It does not appear that they trafficked in slaves, or ever made slaves of one another. George. Why, no ; they would not then have been free- men or Franks, you know. Mary. All this is not at all amusing ; can not you, deai mamma, find something more entertaining to tell us ? Mrs. M. Perhaps it may amuse you to hear a description of the way in which the families of the Roman patricians lived in Gaul. The houses were commonly spacious, and contained room, for a great number of persons. One side of every house was appropriated to the wohaen, who hved very much apart from the male inhabitants. Every family had a few confidential freedmen, whose business it was to act as upper servants, stewards, and masters of the house. All the rest were slaves, and as these people were commonly prisoners of war, and had been torn from their countries and their fam- ilies, they hated their masters and panted for revenge and foi liberty. At night they were chained up like so many' wild beasts in their cells, with the exception, perhaps, of those female slaves who were, or who had been, nurses to the lady of the mansion and her children, and who were suf- fered to remain unchained ; for a nurse, standing in a kind of maternal relationship, was supposed to be too much at- tached to all the members of a family to wish to murder any of them. , Mary. I am very glad, mamma, that you are not a Roman lady. Mrs. M. You must remember that I am only speaking of the Roman families who resided in Gaul, and who were surrounded by a wild and fierce population, chiefly, I suppose, the descendants of the ancient Gauls. Of their own bonds- men, also, they were in continual dread. Geo7-ge. So that, after all, these proiid Romans were ia fact the slaves of their slaves. 20 FROM CLOriS TO THE LChap. ii Richard. Pray, mamma, what was the rehglon of the ancient Gaiils ? Mrs. M. The rehgion of the Druids, which was the sama in all respects with the rehgion of the ancient Britons, liut after a wliile the Gauls intermixed some of the wild fancies of the heathen mythology, which they acquired from thei* Roman masters, with their own superstitions. CHAPTER II. FROM CLOVIS TO THE ACCESSION OF CHAULEMAQNE [Years after Christ, 487-741.] Throne of Daoobert. In the Museum at Paris. When Clovis first became king of France he was a pagan , but on his marriage with Clotilda, niece to the king of the Burgundians, who was a Christian, he and his people em- braced Christianity. The manner of his conversion is gener- ally related as follows : — The Franks of Gaul being at war with the Franks of Germany, the two armies met near Co logne, and, during the heat of the battle, Clovis addressed himself to the God of Clotilda, and vowed that, should he (i^ain the victory, ho would embrace the religion which sha A.D. 50r ] ACCBSSION OF OHAELEWAGNE. 21 professed. Clovis was victorious, and kept his vow, if that can be called keeping it, which consisted in following only the outward forms of Christianity, and practicing none of its pre- C3pts. The reign of Clovis was a perpetual war. His -capital was at Soissons ; * hut even while there he hved constantly siorroiuided by his soldiers, more like the general of an army than like a king ; or, mdeed, I should rather compare him to a chief of banditti ; for his soldiers were only kept togethei by the constant hope and practice of plunder. In 507 Clovis led his army against the Visigoths, whoso chief city in France was Bordeaux, and who were in posses- sion of almost all the country between the E-hone, the Loire, and the Pyrenees. To give this war the apparent sanction of rehgion, Clovis affirmed that he had God's authority foi undertaking it ; and this he asserted on the following pre- text :- — In the church of St. Martin's, at Tours,t the book of Psalms was chanted day and night without intermission by priests who were appointed to that service. Clovis sent some of his people to the church, who were to inform him of the precise words which the priests should be chanting at the moment of their entrance. These words were the 40th and 41st verses of the 18th Psalm : " Thou hast also given me the necks of mine enemies, that I might destroy them that hate me. They cried, but there was none to save them : even unto the Lord ; but he answered them not." These words Clovis chose to consider as applicable to himself, and he set forward in high spirits toward Poitiers. J When he reached the banks of the river Vienne, he was at some loss how to convey his army across. The story is, that while he was hesitating what to do, a hind, which had been roused from a neighboring thicket, started from her conceal- ment, and, rushing across the river in view of the army, showed the soldiers a ford by which they might pass in safety. The place, I am told, is called to this day " The passage of the hind." Clovis advanced to the Clain, ten miles south of Poitiers, where he encountered the Visigoths, and gained a complete victory. Bordeaux and the whole province of Aquitania then Biibmitted to him. He was afterward defeated at Aries § by * A short distance northeast of Paris. i On tlie Loire, at some distance from its mouth. J South of Tours. § Near the mouth of the Rhone. 22 FROM CLOVIS TO THE iCajLf. n Theodoric, who had estabhshed in Italy the domuiion of th* Ostrogoths, but he contrived to regain the greater part of his conquests. Clovis died in 511, having reigned thirty years. He was liberal to the clergy, and founded many churches ; and on this account the monkish historians gloss over the many acts of cruelty and treachery of which he was guilty. By his queen, Clotilda, who was canonized as a saint, he had four sons : (1.) Theodoric I., frequently called Thien-i. (2.) Clodomir (3.) Childebert. (4.) Clothaire. it was the custom among the Franks, that, on the death of their king, his possessions should be equally shared among his sons. This arrangement must have been attended with many serious evils, and it also renders the early part of the French histoiy exceedingly intricate and confused, .ft is scarcely possible to collect from any of the old chronicles a regular detail of events ; indeed, at best, they supply us with nothing but a melancholy record of crimes ; I shall therefore pass this period over as briefly as possible. Clothaire and Childebert, in the year 532, made themselves masters of the kingdom of the Burgundians, which extended at this time to the Alps and the Mediterranean. Clothaire was the survivor of all his brothers, and became sole monarch of France. He put to death, with his own hands, the children of his deceased brother, Clodomir : one only escaped from him, whose name was Chlodoald, and who afterward became a monk, and founded Saint Cloud, a re- ligious house near Paris, so called to tliis day, as you probably know. Clothaire died in 561, after a reign of fifty years. He left four sons : (1.) Charibert. (2.) Gonthran. (3.) Chilperic. (4.) Sigebert. The sons of Clothaire shared the Idngdom in like mamier as the sons of Clovis had done, and their, reigns present an- other half century of howible crimes. Chilperic married Fredegonde, a woman of low birth, but of great talents Sigebert married Bruiihault, daughter of the king of Spain. The most violent hatrerl and rivalry for power subsisted be- tween these two women, 5.nd led them to the commission of almost every crime of which human nature, when most per- verted, is capable. OS! Charibert littk. i.s recorded, exceptmg that he was the A..1) 693.] ACCESSION OF CHARLExMAGNE. '24 father of ]5ertha, by whose marriage with Ethelbcrt, king of Xent, Christianity, as you have probably not forgot, was first uatroduced into Britain. Of all the sons of Clothaire, Gonthran was the one least polluted by crimes. He survived his brother some years, and on his death, in 593, the kingdom was divided between his two nephews : (1.) Childebert II., son of Sigebert and Brunhault. (2.) Clothaire II., son of Chilperic and Fredegonde. On account of the youth of these princes, their kingdoms were at first governed by their two mothers, of whose many crimes I will not shock you by the recital. Fredegonde died in 597, and her tomb is still shown in the church of St. Ger main des Pres, at Paris. Brunhault was put to death by Clothaire II., in the year 613. She was a woman of superior talents, and had a taste for architecture, and there are several buildings in France said to have been erected by her, and which still bear her name. At this time the name of Neustria was commonly given to that portion of the French territory which stretched from the Meuse and Loire to the sea ; and the name of Austrasia to the district which lay between the Rhine, the Meuse, and the Moselle, and of which Metz was the capital. Childebert II. died in 596, and left two sqns, who did not live many years. After their deaths Clothaire II. reigned alone till 628, when he died, leaving his kingdom between his two sons : (1.) Dagobert I. (2.) Charibert II. Dagobert, by the murder of his brother in 631, made him self master of the whole kingdom. This king bears a high character among the Merovingian princes. He was guilty of many atrocious crimes, but they were overlooked in the ' praise bestowed on him for his justice, which, we are told, he administered impartially, and without being bribed — a greatei proof of the vileness of his predecessors than of his own ex- cellence. France, during the reign of Dagobert, rose to some degree of consideration among the nations of Europe ; commerce began to flourish, and gold and silver, which before were scarcely known, now became plentiful. This, however, was but a short gleam of prosperity. Dagobert died in 638, and the monarchs who succeeded him were, either from their jouth or from their imbecility, incapable of taking any part in the governmenli. These kings, who rapidly succee(le in a miserable hut by the wayside. His Jewish physician, S^decias, was suspected of having poisoned him. An old historian says of this king, that he loved pomp and grandeur ; and that " Fortune, in conformity to his hu- mor, made him happy in appearance, and miserable in leaH ty." An 1 this, I doubt not, may be also said of many kings besides. It was in the reign of Charles the Bald that the Gauls and Franks first began to assimilate together as one people, and to use one common language. Louis II., surnamed the Stammerer,* reigned not quite two years ; and no event of importance occurred during his reign. He died in 879, leaving two sons, Louis and Carloman. A posthumous son was bom some months after his death, who was called Charles. Louis was crowned king of Neustria, and Carloman had Aqiiitain ; the rest of the dominions of the late emperor were abandoned to the sons of Louis the German, excepting Provence and a part of Burgundy, which were seized on by Bozon, count of Provence, who had married a daughter of the emperor Louis Ix. Bozon was crowned by pope John VIII., and proved a wise and politic king. This little kingdom of Provence, or, as it is sometimes called, of Aries, flourished for several centuries, and, while it lasted, was the focus of all that was refined and elegant in France. The two young kings, Lcuis and Carloman, both died premature and accidental deaths ; the one in 882, the other ill 884. Charles, their posthumous brother, being only five yeara old when Carloman died, was considered as too young to suc- ceed to the crown : it was therefore offered to Charles, the youngest, and at this time the only surviving son of Louis the German. Charles, who, on account of his corpulence, had received the surname of the Fat,t had already received e imperial crown from the pope ; and now, witli the ex.C(5j> 'LeBegue t Le Gro«. CoNV.] THE CARLOVINGIAN RACE. ¥f tioii of the newly-formed kingdoms of Arragon and of Prov- ence, reunited the dismembered empire of Charlemagne. Among the Norman depredators who invaded France at this time, we find the famous Hastings, who also made him self well known and dreaded in England. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER IV. Ricliard. I did not know that Hastings was a Norman ; I always thought he had been a Dane. Mrs. Markham. The Danes and Normans wore the same people : the name of Norman was a corruption of the word northnian. George. It seems to me very strange that the people should let those Normans or Northmans keep coming and coming, and never try to keep them away. Mrs. M. France at that period was, from one cause or other, nearly destitute of men able to contend v/ith those invaders. George. What was become of all the fighting men ? had they been killed in battle ? Mrs. M. There were men enough, doubtless, still left. but their character and condition were changed. The spirit of the lower sort was broken and depressed : the middlfl classes no longer exhibited that warlike character that had distinguished the ancient Franks. The nobles, instead of uniting against the common enemy, wasted their strength in petty wars among each other, and in engaging in the quarrels and contentions of the royal family. In addition to these causes, we must recollect that a great portion of the landed property of the country vras in the hands ol" ecclesiastics, and mltivated by slaves, who were not permitted the use of arms , all which will easily account for the scarcity of brave men a1 that time, and for the little opposition which the Normans met with. Ricliard. But stiU, I think, if there had been a king who had either sense or spirit, he might have mustered soldiers enough to have kept out these Norman thieves. Mrs. M. Unhappily for France, her kings at that time had neither " sense nor spirit." The character of the sover- eigns during this disastrous period was equally debased with that of the people. We are told that the peasantry were so completely enfeebled and without energy, that they did not fiv^u attempt to protect themselves frcm the w(\lv«is, which, <8 THE CARLOVINGIAN RACE. L^hap. IV consequently, increased to such an alarming degree, that thej ranged the country in packs of two or three hundred at a time. Mary. Really, poor creatures, what with wolves and Nor mans, they seem to have been in a miserable condition. Mrs. M. Nothing conveys a stronger idea of the terror the people had of the Normans, than the following clause in the church Litany which was used at that time : " From the fury of the Normans, good Lord, deliver us !" RicJiard. Even we may say that we suffer from the fury of the Normans ; for if they had not destroyed all the books and records which they fomid in the monasteries, wc should have known a great deal more of the history of those times. George. For my part, I don't think such uncivilized times were worth knowing any thing about. Mrs. M. One chief good of knowing any thing about then) is, that we may see what a degraded, wretched being man is when he is ignorant and uncivilized, and is left to the guid- ance of his passions ; and another good is, to make us sensible of the blessing of living in an age like the present, instead of an age when 7nigJit overcame right, and a man's will was almost his only law. The French, indeed, were at this tima going rapidly backward. They knew so little even of theii own country, that when the three sons of le Debonnaire agreed to diride their father's empire among them, they could not attempt to make an equal division till they had first sent persons into all the several parts of it to gain a knowledge of the size, population, productions, and riches of each district. Three hundred persons, we are told, were employed in this service ; and as of these there were but few who could write or even read, you may imagine the difficulties they had to encounter. George. And after all their trouble, I dare say I could tell much better than they, only by just once looking at thit' map of Europe. Mrs. M. When we think how very difficult the first steps in science must have been to persons who had no previous helps, we ought to be very grateful to those whose laborious industry has smoothed to us the paths of laiowledge. In the times we are now treating of, learning in France, as well as m England, was entirely confined to ecclesiastics, the only persons wlio could write, and almost 1he only persons who could reau Con v.] THE CAELOVINOIAN KACE 49 George. I thought you told us that there were £5"ibes, or people whose trade it was to write. Mrs. M. I did so ; but I believe I omitted to add that these scribes were always priests. Our knowledge of Charles the Bald is almost wholly gathered from the account trans- mitted to us by his chief counselor, Hincmar, who was arch- bishop of Rheims, and who appears, even from his own state- ment, to have been a very busy, meddling churchman. The priests were also poets as well as historians, and one of them wrote a Latin poem in praise of Charles the Bald ; and the better to pay his court to the king, he made every word of his poem, which consisted of three hundred lines, begin with the letter C* Richard. He must have made strange, nonsensical stuff of it. Mrs. M. I can not tell you how well or how ill he suc- ceeded ; for, in the first place, I don't understand Latin, and in the second place, I have only seen the first line : " Caiinina clarisonas Calvi cantate camoBnas." Richard. I tliink you. said that Charlemagne would not allow the French language to be spoken in his court. Pray what language did he speak himself? Mrs. M. He spoke German, which was, you know, the original language of. the Franks. The Gauls, I have told you, spoke a sort of corrupt Latin, wliich, after the Japse of some centuries, began to be blended with the German spoken by the Franks. But stdl there were two great divisions in the language of France ; for in the south, where the Latin, or, as it was termed, the Romanesque, was the mother-tongue, it varied considerably from that spoken in the north, where the German language had a much greater ascendency. Richard. I think I understand you, mamma ; that in the south it was Latin with a little German, and that in the north it was German with a little Latin. Mrs. M. You have explained it exactly ; and you will easily comprehend that this would make a great difference in the two dialects. The one was called langue d'oc, and the other was the langue d'oU, or langue d'oui.f Mary. I wonder why they gave them such Ou.d names ' 3Irs. M. They were so called from the word in each Id'u- ^uage which signified yes. The Italian was at that time * The first letter of the word Chanve, which is the French wonl for ba^d- *■ Pronounced Langdoc, Langdwoil, and Langdwee. 60 THE CARLOVINGIAN RACE I Chap. L'P called the langue de si, and the German the langue de ya; st being Italian, and ya German, for yes. But to return to what I was saying about the French languages. The langue tVoc, which was that spoken in the south of France, was after- ward modified into the Provencal, which was for two or three centuries the favorite language of poetry, and of which I shall have to speak further when we come to the time of the trou- badours. It is now nearly extinct as a living language, though it still exists, in a certain degree, in the patois, or provincial dialects of the south of France. The langue cVail is the root or foundation of what was afterward called the French wallon, which varied very little from the best French now spoken. Gem'ge. Were Italy and Germany, and all the other countries where the Carlo vingians reigned, as ill governed as France was ? Mrs. M. The three great divisions of Charlemagne's em- pire experienced very different fortunes, which may, perhaps, all be traced to the different characters of their respective sovereigns. The government of France, under her supersti- tious monarchs, fell almost wholly into the hands of the eccle- siastics. In Italy the nobles, who, by the capricious liOthaire and his inefficient sons, were set over the several towns and provinces, took advantage of the unstable characters of their sovereigns to appropriate to themselves and their families the governments which had been intrusted to them. If you look into the map of Italy, you will see that the country is divided into numberless dukedoms and marquisates, which have all been independent states in their time ; and this was their origin. The third division, that of Louis, surnamed the German, fell to the share of a just and prudent ruler. Louis, although he was in his younger days implicated in the rebellions of hig brother Lothaire, has yet left a name very superior to all the other princes of his time and family. He interfered very little in the quarrels of other states, and had no ambition to extend his territories. He lived entirely among his own people, f,nd occupied himself with the care of promoting their happiness. The consequence was, that the countries he governed wsr« rich and prosperous, and the people industrious and conten1fi<3 CHAPTER V. THB CARLOVINGIAN RACE— CONCLUDK© [Years after Christ, 834-987.] /r/I.Sr- Ruins of the Castle of Montlhery. The French did not make a fortunate choice in their nsvr sovereign. Charles the Fat was not only proud and cowardly, flut he also made himself contemptible by his gluttony ; nor does he seem to have possessed any redeeming quality. He w^as very regardless of his subjects, and did not come near them, but left them to defend themselves as well as they could against the Normans, who, in 885, made themselves masters of Rouen, and laid siege to Paris, Paris, although the capital of the kingdom, was an inconsiderable place, and was at this time contained within the limits of the little island in the Seine, which I have shown you in the map of that city. It liad, by the care of a few brave noUes, and more particularly by that of Eudes, count of Paris, been put in a good state of defense., and held out a long siege. At last Charles, at the earnest instance of Eudes, who had gone in person to Pavia to entreat his assistance, appeared before Paris with his army , but instead of giving the Normans batdc', lie, as Charles th« 52 THE CARLO VJNGIAN RACE. iChai-, V Bald had done before, bribed them with a large sum of money to withdraw their troops, and then returned into Germany. He soon afterward fell into a state of insanity, and was de- Bert ed by his servants and driven from his palace, and would have wanted the common necessaries of life, had it not been for the compassion of Lieutbart, bishop of Mayemie. This unhappy monarch died in 888. Charles, the posthumous son of Louis the Stammerer, was now, in the male hne, the only one left of the race of Charle- magne. There was, indeed, an illegitimate descendant of that family, named Arnould, son of Carloman, brother of Louis the Fat. On him, in consequence of the failure of other heirs, the pope bestowed the imperial crown ; and he thus succeeded to the German and Italian dominions of his late uncle. As for France, the youth and the evident imbecility of the young Charles, which obtained for him the surname of Charles the Simple, occasioned his claims to be once more set aside ; and Eudes, the brave defender of Paris, was chosen king Elis kingdom extended, however, only from the Meuse to the Loire. A large portion of the eastern side of France was claimed by the emperor Arnulf ; and Ramulf, a descendant of Charlemagne by a female line, seized on Aquitain. Even the kingdom of Eudes, small as it was, was divided into many lesser states, which were possessed by indepen- dent nobles, who fortified themselves in their strong castles and lived within them like petty kings. Among these the counts of Flanders, Vermandois, and Anjou were the most powerful. In the year 891, the Normans received a severe defeat near uouvain,^ in a pitched battle with the emperor Arnulf; and after this check they turned their arms on England, thus giving France a respite for the time : but the Normans, or Danes, as we are accustomed to call them, found a more vigorous an- tagonist in England than they had met with in France. This was the great Alfred, who at that time reigned over the Anglo- Saxons. After a time the people of France became dissatisfied with Eudes, and complained " that he commanded them to do in- supportable things ;" although it does not appear what these insupportable things were, unless it was that he required them to make a stand and defend themselves against the Normans ; and in 893, the count of Vermandois and the archbishop of Rhcims took advantage of the absence of Eudes, on an ^ t;po« * In Belgium, beyoud the confines of the map. A.D. 898.] THE CARLOVINGIAN EACE. 04 dition against the duke of Aquitain, to crown the son of Louis the Stammerer. Charles, afterward entitled, as I have told you, "the Sim- ple," was, at his coronation, onlj fourteen years old, and his youth and incapacity made him unable to take any part in the government of his affairs. His party was supported by some active and powerful nobles, who, however, merely made uso of his name in order to strengthen their own interests against Eudes. During the next few years the country was greatly disturb- ed by the contentions of the two rival parties. At last it wag agreed to divide the kingdom between the two kings. Eudes continued to rule Paris and its neighborhood, and Charles's court was established on the banks of the Moselle.^ In 898 Eudes died, and Charles was recognized as sole monarch in the whole territory that remained to the crown of France. In 911, after a complete blank in the history foi several years, of which there are no records whatever, wo meet with the first notice of the celebrated RoUo, a leader among the Normans, who appeared on the coasts of France, and threatened to desolate the whole country. Charles, we are told, offered to cede to RoUo an extensive terri cory between the Seine and the sea, on condition that he and his people would forbear to molest any other part of France. He also offered RoUo his daughter in marriage, provided he would be- come a Christian. RoUo agreed to both these proposals. He: and his Normans, who aU followed his example, were baptized, and settled themselves in that part of Neustria, which is now called Normandy. t Rollo had the title of duke, and was re- quired to do homage to the king of France, and to acknowl- edge his duchy as a fief of the crown. He was also chosec one of the twelve peers of France. Rollo kept faithfully the promise of never molesting tlip other territories of France, and he defended successfully the coasts of Neustria from the future attempts of his piratical countrymen, who in time ceased their invasions. Thus Normandy proved a protection against the Normans ; and the cession of that province, which was caused by the weak- 'ness of the sovereign, proved, after all, a very politic meas lire. Rollo portioned out his new territories in feudal tenures among his followers, and applied himself to make laws and * The Moselle flows from the northenstem part of France into the Rhine, 1 A province in the northern part of France. 114 THE OARLOVINGIAN EACB [Chaf. V regulations Tradition says that he gave his people a chai ter, which secured, in like manner with our Magna Charti,, the liberty of the subject. He established a supreme tribunal (a sort of parliament), and applied himself with an ardor which appears to have been a part of the Norman character, to cultivate and embellish his territory, which had been re- duced to the condition of a desert by the ravages to which it had been so long exposed. Under this good government il became in a short time the most fertile and flourishing prov- ince of France. Rollo died in 932, and was succeeded by his Bon William Longsword,* who was a brave and prudent prince, Uke his father. But I must return to the affairs of poor simple king Charles, who exasperated the people of France by his folly, and by ailowing a man of low birth, named Haganun, to obtain an undue influence over him. In 923, Robert, brother to thb iate king Eudes, appeared in arms, and caused himself to be proclaimed king ; but being soon after killed in battle, his name has never been enrolled among the French kings. Robert left a son Hugh, sumamed the Fair,t who seemed BO little ambitious of sovereignty, that he caused the crown to be given to Raoul, or Rodolph, one of the dukes of Bur- gundy $ (for Burgundy was at that time divided into three dukedoms), who had married his sister. Rodolph's title was acknowledged by the rest of the nobles, and Charles was confined as a prisoner in the Chateau Thierry. His queen Elgiva, who was sister to Athelstan, king of England, fled for protection to her brother, taking "with her Louis, her only child, then a boy about nine years old. In 929 Charles died, poisoned, as was supposed, by the count de Vermandois. Rodolph survived him about six years. He interfered very little with the afi'airs of France, and every thing was under the management of Hugh the Fair. Rodolph died in 936, leaving no children. At last Hugh, after an interregnum of some months, sent a deputation to England, inviting Elgiva and her son to return. Athelstan endeavored to dissuade his sister and nephew from going to France, being fearful that some treachery was intended to- ward them. His apprehensions, however, were unfounded. Louis, when he landed in France, was received with the greatest respect by Hugh, who conductffd him to Rheims, * Longue Epee t Le Blanc. East of the center of France. k D. 930.J THE CARLOVINGIAN RACE. 5i where he was crowned by the name of Louis IV"., to which was added the surname of " the Stranger."* Louis was very superior, both in abiUties and courage, to any of his predecessors since Charlemagne ; but he wanted honesty and sincerity, and consequently his abihties were but of little service either to himself or his country. The German branch of the Carlovingian family had be- come extinct on the death of Louis, son of the emperor Ar- nulf ; and the imperial dignity was now vested in a German family, the founder of which was Henry the Fowler, a sur- name which he acquired from having been engaged in the arnusement of fowling when he was told that he was elected emperor. This Henry left a son, named Otho, a very active and powerful prince, who raised the dignity of the empire to a higher pitch than it had known since the days of Charle- magne. Otho had two sisters, one of whom was the wife of Hugh the Fair ; Gerberg, the other, in 939, married Louis the Stranger. Hugh, though he .had invited the return of Louis, was de- sirous still to govern the kingdom as he had been accustomea to do ; but to this Louis would not submit ; and Hugh, being joined by William Longsword, duke of Normandy, and other powerful nobles, a civil war began, which lasted several years. Arnulf, count of Flanders, took the part of the Idng ; and having a private quarrel with the duke of Normandy, assas- sinated him, with circumstances of great treachery. Will- iam left a young son named Richard ; Louis, under pretense of having him educated at his court, got the poor boy into his power, and would have put him to death at the instiga- tion of the count of Flanders, whose revengeful temper was not contented with killing the father ; but the young duke was rescued from the hands of his enemies by the courage and ingenuity of Osmond, his governor. His rescue was effected in the following mamier : Hich- ard, who was at this time staying with Louis in his castle at Laon, was instructed by Osmond to feign himself ill, and to keep his bed. One evening, while the king and all his at- tendants were at supper, Osmond took the child cut of his bed, and, concealing him in a truss of hay, put him on hia back, and pretending that he was going to feed his horse — an office which was then very commonly performed by the great* est r.obles to a favorite steed — he carried the chi).d, unper • jy Outrrmer, meaning froin beyond, sea. 66 THE OAKLOVINGIAN EACE. [CHiP. V Boived, out of the castle. When he had got qiite clear of the to^vn, he found his attendants ready with liorses : they mounted, and reached the town of Couci in the mid(fJe of the night ; from thence he conveyed his charge to his mater- nal uncle, the count de Senlis, who took him under his pro- tection. The count de SenHs contrived, in 945, by liis bravery and address, to make Louis himself prisoner, and would not re- lease him until he had restored several places in Normandy, which, availing himself of the adverse circumstances of the young duke, he had unjustly seized on. Pvichard was at last fully established in his dukedom. He married Anne, the daughter of Hugh the Fair, and acquired the surname of ilichard the Fearless. He is celebrated by the Norman his- torians for his goodness and piety, and also for the nobleness and beauty of his person, and for the long beard and white hair for which he seems to have been remarkable in his latter years. Some time before his death he caused a stone coffin to be made, and placed in the church, of Fecamp. Every Friday this was filled with wheat, which, together with a weekly donation of money, was distributed among the poor. When he died he ordered his body to be placed in this stone coffin, and desired that it might not be buried, but placed on the outside of the church under the eaves, " that," as his own words expressed it, " the drippings of the rain from the holy roof may wash my bones as I lie, and may cleanse them from the spots of impurit}'' contracted in my negligent and neglect- ed life." Louis the Stranger died m 954, from the effects of a fall from his horse, as he was spurring after a wolf which crossed his road in traveling between Laon and Rheims. He was in the thirty-third year of his age, and left two sons, Lothaire and Charles. As Charles was only a few months old, the undivided king- dom was conferred on Lothaire ; and from tliis time the cus- tom ceased of dividing the kingdom among the sons of the deceased monarch, and was never afterward revived. Lothaire, who was only fourteen years old when he began to reign, was for some years under the tutelage of liis mother and her brother, who for liis sanctity has been canonized, un- der the name of Saint Bruno. It is mentioned, as a remark- able circumstance, that there was no civil war m France foi the space of three years. la 956 Hugh the Fair died, having, as his jontempo A..D. 973.] THE CAKLOVINGIAN RACE. 5J raries said, reigned many years, though without the tiLe oi king. In 973 the emperor Otho the Great died, and was suc- ceeded by liis son Otho II. Lothaire, on his uncle's death, claimed a part of Lorrame* in right of his mother, and, without waiting to declare war, marched directly to Aix-la- Chapelle, where the young emperor was then residing. Otho was taken so completely by surprise, that he was obliged to rise from table, where he was sitting at dinner. He mounted a fleet horse, and escaped out of one gate as Lothaire and hig army entered at another. Lothaire stripped the palace of every thing in it wliich was worth carrying off, and then returned to France. This event took place in the month of June, 978 ; and in the following October, Otho, burning with resentment against Lothaire, set out, as he expressed it, " to return the visit." He proceeded straight to Paris, destroying every thing in his way. Hugh Capet, the son of Hugh the Fair, had succeeded his father as count of Paris, and had put the town in such a good state of defense, that Otho found himself unable to effect any thing against it ; he therefore contented himself with empty menaces. Among other things he sent word to Hugh, " That he would make him hear so loud a litany as would make his ears tingle." Accordingly, he posted his army on the heights of Montmartre, which overlook Paris, and there he made liis soldiers sing a Latin canticle as loud as they could. The noise of so many thousand voices all bawling at once was so prodigious, that it could he heard from one end of Paris to the other. Having performed this mighty feat, the emperor turned about to march back into Germany. He reached the banks of the river Aisne t without having met vnth any opposition : it was late when he arrived at the river, and only he him self, wdth part of his army, could cross that night. The re&t were to cross the next morning ; but when the morning came, it was found that the water had risen so considerably in the night, that it was impossible for the second division of the army to pass. In this situation it was attacked by Lothaire ; and Otho, from the opposite shore, saw his men put to tha rout without being able to give t'lem any assistance. At length he procured a little boat, and sent over the count of A.rdcnnes to propose that he and Lothaire should seltle thei; • In the r.ortheast part of r'rance, on the borders oi Othp"* doaiiotnng. t A short distance northeast of Paris. 58 THE CAKLOVINGIAN RACE. (Chap. V diflerences by single combat, with the conditioA, that which ever of them was the survivor should succeed to the terri- tories of the other ; but the French nobles would not permit Lothaire to accept this challenge, and desired the count to inform his master that they did not wish to lose their own king ; and that, at any rate, they would never have Otho over them. Some time after this a treaty of peace was made between the cousins, and Otho consented to give up Lorraine to Lothaire and his brother Charles. In 986 Lothaire died, leaving ajj only son, Louis V., often called the Sluggard, who was ol such weak capacity, that al- though he was twenty years old, he was incapable of govern- ing, and was placed under the guardianship of Hugh Capet. Louis V. reigned little more than a year, and his uncle, Charles, duke of Lorraine, was now the sole male survivor of the house of Charlemagne ; but his character was alto- gether so worthless and contemptible, that the nobles of France excluded him from the succession, and placed th* crown upon the head of Hugh Capet. Thus ended the succession of the Carlovingian kings, which had lasted for a period of 246 years. Never was there a race of weaker princes. By their folly and cowardice they had suffered the kingdom to be so much dismembered, that it wis latterly reduced to little more than the mere territory which lay immediately round Rheims and Paris. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER V. RicJiard. I wonder why Hugh the Fair, who seemed to have the giving away of thft croAvn of France, never thought of putting it upon his own head. Mrs. Markham. He probably thought of it several times ; but it is supposed that he was withheld either by the jealousies of the other nobles who were unwilling that he should make himself superior to themselves, or else by his own moderation. He is said to have been the greatest man who never wore a crown. He was married three times, and each of his wives was a kinj,''s daughter. His first wife was daughter of Louis the Stammerer : the second was a daughter of the king of England : and the third was sister to the emperor Otho. Hugh left four sons ; one of them was, as you have just heard, king of France, and the other three were successively dukes of Burgundy. Hugh had several surnames by which ho wa« OU.HT , THE CARLO VINGIAK RACE 5S indiscriminately called : the Fair, from the color of his coni' plexion ; the Great, from his great height ; and tlie Abbot, hecause of the number of abbeys he was possessed of Mary. Then was he a priest, besides all this ? Mrs. M. You may very naturally ask that question Though not a priest, he yet held several abbeys ; for the kings of France were at this time so much reduced, that they had nothing but church property left to bestow, when they wished to conciliate or reward any of their nobles. George. I could not bear those cruel Normans at first, but now I like them very much, they were such fine fellows. Mrs. M. They were indeed a very extraordinary people, and greatly superior to most of their contemporaries. RoUo, especially, was, as you say, a, fine felloio ; and one of the finest parts of his conduct was his keeping his promise so honorably to the king of France, and giving up all his predatory habits, after he obtained the grant of Normandy. He also estab- lished schools, and adopted many of the French laws and customs, in preference to those of his own country. In con- sequence of his taking these and similar measures, the Nor- mans, iu the course of one or two generations, became in manners, customs, and language assimilated to the rest of France ; which seems the more extraordinary, since the Bretons, their near neighbors, were then, and continue to this day, a very distinct people. Mary. Can you tell us, dear mamma, any more stories about those Noiraans ? Mrs. M. I can tell you one, which is not very much to their credit. When Rollo was required to do homage to Charles the Simple for his fief of Normandy, he positively r€ fused to comply with one of the ceremonies, which was that ol kissing the king's foot ; and on being told that it was abso- li tely indispensable, he still declared that he would only per- R rm it by proxy. Accordingly, he deputed one of his soldiers tc go through that ceremony for him. This man, on going u ) to the king, who was seated on his throne, snatched hold ol his foot, and, either through awkwardness or insolence, raised it to his lips with such a sudden jerk, that the poor kiag was thrown off his balance, and fell backward. The Normans uttered loud shouts of laughter, and the king, terri- fied, by the bolster jus expressions of their mirth, was glad to re.nstate himself on his throne without taking any notice of thj afiront ; and his courtiers were also fain to pass it ofl' m '.n agreeable pleasantly. GC THE CARLO VINGIAN RACE. [Chap. V (jreorge. What a set of cowards I — When the emperoi Otho II. challenged the king of France to single comhat, iJ was somewhat lilte fighting a duel. Mrs. M. Duels may he considered as a remnant of har- barism, and I hope, and almost trust, that the world may one day become wise enough, and Christian enough, to rid itself of them altogether. I am told that there are some traces of duels among the Greeks and Romans ; but the first we hear of them in modem history is of their having been prac- ticed in the court of Gondebaud, king of Burgmidy, the con- temporary of Clovis. Some antiquaries say that they were an invention of the Franks. At all events, they accorded with the passionate temper of that restless people. In the reign of Louis XV. the rage for dueling became, with some persons, almost as innocent as it was ridiculous. Challenges Avere given for the most trifling affronts ; but it was often thought quite enough for the two antagonists to clash their swords together, without offering to wound each other. Mary. If people must fight duels, I think that is the best way. Mrs. M. A better way is for people to keep their tem- pers, and be careful never to give intentional affronts, and then they will be less hkely to receive them. Richard. It seems as if, in the old times in France, alJ people had nicknames. Mrs. M. Before the invention of family surnames, it was very difficult to distinguish persons who had the same Chris- tian name, without using some such appellatives. These were generally derived from some personal peculiarity, or particular quality, as Rainier, the long necked; William, the Jiaxen-head — two names that frequently occur in the history of this period. We have also Henry the Quarreler, and Conrade the Pacific. This last was a duke of Burgundy, and had the singular good fortune, or good sense, to preserve his coimtry in peace during a reign of fifty-seven years. Mary. What a dear old man ! How much better off the people of Burgundy must have been than the peonle oi France, with all those quarrelsome kings and nobles ! Mrs. M. The state of society in France underwent a very great change in the tenth century. Most of the principal towns were ruined and depopulated : those in the north by the Normans ; and those in the south by the Saracens of Spain, who were perpetually making irruptions into France. The nobles ii^creased in power as tiie distresses of the middle ani/ Cos v.] THE CAELOVINGIAN RACE 61 lower orders increased ; and gaining strength also from tlia weakness of the sovereign, they Lecaine like independent mon- arehs in their own httle domains. Their dwelhngs: were for- tresses, where they lived surroimded by their vassals and dependents, and engaged in petty wars with their neighbors. The foreign trade, what little there was of it, was all carried on by the traveling merchants, who went from castle to castle retailing their goods. George. Like our peddlers, I suppose. M.r%. M. But with this difference, that our peddlers bring about with them only inferior and trifling articles, while tlie itinerant merchants of whom I am speaking dealt in precious stones, silks, ornaments of gold, and spices ; and, in short, in whatever was then esteemed rare and costly. There were no shops, but each noble had his own shoemaker, carpenter, and blacksmith, &c., who not only supplied him with whatever he wanted, but also worked at their trades for his advantage and profit. These.persons usually dwelt in villages close to their lord's castle, and when any enemy approached to besiege the castle, they all took refuge within the walls. George. What fine driving of sheep and cattle, and hurry- skurrying, there must have been then I J\Irs. M. And woe betide those who could not reach tha gate in time ! However, on the whole, there was not so much harm done as might have been expected : the walls of the castle were too thick, and the towers too high, for the weapons of the assailants to do much mischief to the besieged. The worst they could do would be to starve them into a capitula- tion ; and even should that happen, the lord of the castle might be quits for some time on paying a good ransom. George. I suppose, however, the nobles always took good care to have plenty of provisions in their castles, so that they could hold out a long time ; and as to water, they always, you know, built their castles in places where they could have good wells. . Mrs. M. And yet the best precautions do not always suc- ceed. I could tell you of a castle in which there was abun- dance of wells, and yet the garrison were obliged to surrendej because they could get no water. George. The wells, I suppose, were dry ? Mrs. M. That was not the case : but you shall heai the whole story, although it is a little forestalling the proper ordei of our history. There exist still in Normandy the ruinoua fragments of a castle wliich was built by our Richard I., tc 52 THE CARLOVINGIAN RACE. [ChAP. T lefend his territories against the attacks of Philip Augustus, sing of France. The castle stood on a rock overhanging the Seine, and was considered impregnahle. The walls were in some places above sixteen feet thick, and it was large enough to contain several thousand persons. The whole was amply Bupphed with water, and with every thing that could contri- bute, to the use and security of the mhabitants. This castla was so fine a structure, and stood so majestically overlooking the adjacent country, that E-ichard, in the pride of his heart, called it Chateau Gaillard,* and it was considered the bulwark of Normandy. Richard. Ah, mamma, I saw the other day, in some travels in Normandy, a picture of the ruins of a Chateau GaUlard. Could they be the same ? Chateau Gaillard. Mrs. M. They were indeed ; and those desolate ruina are all that remains of what was once distinguished as " the beau- dful castle on the rock." But to go on with my story. In ihe conquest of Normandy by Philip Augustus, during the reign of our pusillanimous king John, Chateau Gaillard fell mto the hands of the French. With them it remained till the invasion of France by our Henry V., who laid siege to this castle. After a blockade of sixteen months, the garrison found themselves obliged to surrender, because all the ropes of their wells were worn out, and they could get no more water. George. If it had not been our king who took the castle, I should have said it was very provoking. But how came it to be such a ruin as it now seems to be ? Jfrs. M. After the English lost all their possessions in France, Chateau GaiUard reverted to the kings of France, who used it occasionally as a roya' residence, and more fre * The castle of joy. Loftv.j -THE CARLOVINGIAN RACIC. fiS quently as a state prison. In the sixteenth century it wa« altogether abandoned, and then the people of the neighboring districts, fearing it might be made a harbor for robbers, ob tained permission to demoUsh it. Richard. Now you have done with all these stupid Me- rovingian and Carlovingian kings, and their tiresome dividing and changing of kingdoms, will you be so kind as to give ua only one reign in a chapter ? for I think I shall be able to remember the kings much better if they come separately, than I can when half a dozen of them are crowded together. You know you did so in your history of England, when you got past the Saxon kings. Mrs. M. I am very ready to oblige you, although it will occasion some of my chapters to be very short ones. George. Never mind that, mamma ; when you give us a short chapter, we shall then, you know, have the more time for talking afterward. Mary. I shall be glad of that ; for, somehow or other, I tmnk our conversations are the pleasantest part. Mrs. M. To enable you the better to remember the Car- lovingian kings, I will give you a table of the descendants of Charlemagne. Louis Debonnaire, son of Cliarlemagne, emperor and king of France, left four sons. Sons of Louis Debonnaire. Lothaire, emperor, died 855. Pepin, king of Aquitaine, died 838. Louis, king of Germany, died 876. Cliarles the Bald, king of France, and afterward emperor, died 877. Sons of Lothaire. Louis the Young, emperor, died 875. ^ Lothaire, died 868. > All died without male lieira. Charles, died 868. > Pepin, king of Aquitaine, sorj o/" PepjK, was deposed in 852, and died, leaving no children. Sons of Louis the German. Carloman, died 880, leaving an illegitimate son, afterward emperor. Louis, died 882, ) leaving no chil Charles the Fat, emperor and kinn; cf France, died 888, J dren. Amulf, emperor, illegitimate son of Carloman, died in 899, and left one ioo Louis, emperor, who died 911, leaving no male heirs. Son of Charles the Bald. Louis II.j sumaraed the Stammerer, died 878. Sons of Louis the Stammebbu. Charlei* the Simple, died 929 64 HUGH CAPET LChap. VI Son of Charles the Simple Louis IV., the Sti-anger, died 954. Sons of Louis the Stranger. Lothaire, king of France, died 986. Charles, duke of Lorraine. Louis v., the Sluggard, son of Lothaire, died in 987, and iu him ended th* Carlovingian race. CHAPTER VI. HUGH CAPET. [Years after Christ 987-996.J NoRMAM Ships. Hugh Capet owed his elevation to the throne more to th«! peculiar circumstances of the times than to any extraordinary merits of his own. He was not a man of great abilities, not of any superiority of character. He seems, however, to have been what is vulgarly called long-headed ; an epithet which,- if I rightly understand it, denotes a medium quality between prudence and cunning. A few days after the death of the late king, Hugh sum- moned an assembly of nobles at Noyon,* chiefly consisting of his own vassals and partisans. By them he was formally elected king, and he was soon afterward consecrated at Rheims. During the ceremony, the archbishop would have placed the ^•j'own upon his head, but Hugh prevented him, because \i * Njrtheast of Paris, a little northwest of Soissons. «..D. 938.] HUGH CAPET. 65 had been foretold to him that the crown of France should re- main in his family for sevfin generations ; and he thought that if he was not actually crowned, it would prolong the royal dignity in his family to yet another generation. Some his- torians suspect that the real cause of his reluctance to weai the crown arose from his consciousness that he had no right t« it. If it were so, I own it appears to me a very extraordinary scruple in a man who made no hesitation in usurping every other kingly privilege. Charles, duke of Lorraine, who was now the only survivoi of the Carlovingian family, was not, as I have already said, a favorite .with the people of France ; and his having accept- ed of the duchy of Lorraine, and done homage for it to the emperor of Germany, gave them a pretext for setting aside his claims. He, however, determined to assert his right , but not having the means of doing this by force of arms, he had recourse to artifice. Indeed, the affairs of this period seem to have been carried on almost entirely by fraud and treachery. Charles had a half-nephew, Arnolf, the illegitimate son of his brother Lothaire. This man was a priest at Laon, and contrived to admit his uncle secretly into the town. Charles immediately took possession of the palace which had been the residence of the latter Carlovingian monarchs, and was pro- claimed king by a few of the old friends and retainers of hi? family. He made Ancelin, bishop of Laon, his chief coun- selor ; and he, being a very artful man, undertook the office, in the hope that it would give him the opportunity of betray- ing Charles into the hands of his enemies. In the mean time, Hugh, instead of seeking to dispossess his rival by open force, sought to oppose him with his own weapons; — fraud and falsehood. He attempted to detach Ar- nolf from Charles's interest, by bestowing on him the arch- bishopric of Rheims. Arnolf accepted of the benefice with many promises of fidelity to Hugh ; but he was no sooner settled in his archbishopric than he received Charles into the city, at the same time pretending that he came without hia consent ; and Charles, to favor the deception, affected to seize on the new archbishop, and carried him off a pretended pris- oner to Laon.* Hugh, however, was not to be easily deceived, and resolved, if Arnolf should ever fall into his hands, to bo fully revenged on him. In the summer of 988, Hugh laid siege to Laon, but at * A little nortlieast of Soissons. 66 HUGH CAPET Ghap. VI the end of some weeks he was driven off by Charles, who made an unexpected sally, burned his camp, and compelled him to an ignominious flight. Hugh, fearful lest this dis- grace should have a bad eflect on his affairs, ordered Gerbert, his secretary, to write as favorable an account of it as he could to the bishop of Treves. I will give you an extract from this letter, to show you that the very useless, because always unavailing, art of putting a false coloring on disagree- able facts is not an invention of modern times : — " Do not believe too easily the reports you hear. By the grace of God, and by the aid of your prayers, we are still, as before, masters of the bishopric. And of all the rumor which you may hear this only is true : — that the king's soldiers being after mid- day overpowered by wine and sleep, the inhabitants of the town made a sally, which our people repulsed ; but during this time the camp was set on fire by a set of ragamuffins, and all the preparations for the siege destroyed. The damage will, however, be repaired before the 25th of August." Hugh did not, however, again attempt to besiege Laon : and Charles, believing himself to be in perfect security, gave himself up to ease and enjoyment. This was the time that his perfidious favorite, Ancelin, had so long been watching for ; and every thing being prepared, he received Hugh into the town of Laon in the dead of the night. Charles and his queen were taken prisoners in their beds, and were imme- diately hurried off to Hugh's strong tower at Orleans ; and you may be sure that Arnolf was not left behind. The wife of Charles died very soon afterward in childbed, leavmg two poor little twins. How long these little prisoners re- «nained in confinement I do not know, nor whether the best days of their childhood and youth were passed in that melan- choly tower. We find them twenty years afterward under the protection of the emperor of Germany. Besides these sons, Charles had two daughters, who, having been left in Germany, escaped sharing in their father's imprisonment. A descendant of one of these daughters married, in 1180, Philip Augustus, king of France, and it is through her that the present royal family of France claims a descent from Charlemagne. Charles of Lorraine died at Orleans in 992, and Hugh now hoped that he should have undisturbed possession of the kingdom. But, although he had nothing more to apprehend from the Carlovingian family, yet the restlessness and ambi- won of the ncbles prevented him from enjoying tranquiUitv \.D. 996 1 HUGH OAPET. 6» There were at this time eight powerful principalities ot states, all independent of the crown : these Avere Burgundy, Aquitaine, Normandy, Gascony, Flanders, Champagne, and Toulouse. Bretagne is not included, because, in virtue of a grant from Charles the Simple to E-ollo, Bretagne was con sidered as a dependency on the duchy of Normandy. Besides these greater states, innumerable smaller ones were perpetu- ally forming by aU those who could acquire possession of any territory, either by fraud or violence ; and the monarch found sufficient emplojrment in endeavoring to check the encroach- ments of these self-created nobles. One of these, on being asked by Hugh, "Who made him a count ?" returned for an- swer, " Who made you a king ?" a question to which Hugh could not easily reply. In 995, Arnolf being still a prisoner, Hugh bestowed his archbishopric upon his secretary Gerbert. The measure drew upon him the resentmeiit of the pope, who obliged him to re- instate Arnolf, which he did, but without restoring him to liberty. Hugh Capet died October 24th, 996, in the fifty-seventh year of his age, having reigned iiearly ten years. He was twice married, first to Adelaide, daughter of the duke of Aquitaine, by whom he had one son, Robert, who succeeded him, and three daughters. His second wife was Blanch, widow of king Louis V. By her he liad no children Hugh resided principally in Paris, Vt^hich from this tmi^ became the chief seat of government. In the same year with Hugh Capet diod Richard the I'ear- less, duke of Normandy : he was succeeded by his son Rich- ard II. The tenth century, which we have nww nearly brought to a close, has been named by some historians the iron age, as being the period when Europe was the most disgraced by murders, cruelty, immorality, and irreligion. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER VI Mary. Pray, mamma, why was this last king called Capet ? -MfS. Marklmm. To say the truth, you have asked me a difficult question, since antiquaries themselves are not agreed on the subject. Sortie persons suppose that he was called so from oxvut. a head, because, he was the head or founder of a 68 HUGH CAPET. [Chap. Vi new dynasty. Others assert that the name arose Irom a cajy, called a capet, which he introduced. Richard. Can you tell me whethsr there were any d£> grees of rank among the French nobles of those days, oi whether they were all alike ? Mrs. M. Their ranks were very different, hut the degrees were regulated, not by their titles or possessions, but by the nearness of their dependence on the tlirone. Those who held fiefs of the crown, and who were the vassals of, and did homage to the king, were esteemed the persons of the high- est rank ; the next in rank were those who held fiefs of the king's vassals, and who did homage to them ; these also could parcel out their lands into other fiefs, so that these fiefs and sub-fiefs might be multipHed in an unlimited degree ; but the vassals or peers of the crown were considered to be of superior rank to aU the others, and enjoyed pecuHar priv- ileges, Ricliard. Then were none but the king's vassals called peers ? Mrs. M. The word^eer was derived from the Latin word par, or equal, and all who were vassals under the same lord were styled peers, not to imply that they were superior to others, but that they were peers or equals among themselves. Thus all those nobles, and they only, who held immediately from the crown were by pre-eminence styled peers of France. There was no limited number of these peers under the feudal system, but in the course of time the number was confined to twelve ; six of v/hom were laymen, and the other six ee clesiastics. Perhaps it may be useful to you to know their names. The six lay peers were the dukes of Burgundy, Normandy, and Aquitaine ; the counts of Flanders, Cham- pagne, and Toulouse. The six ecclesiastical peers were the archbishop of Rheims, the bishops of Laon, Langres, Chalons, Noyon, and Beauvais. George. Was the doing homage a very disagreeable cere mony ? Mrs. M. That depended very much upon circumstances. When a man did homage to his father, or to a friend, the ceremony had in it nothing disagreeable. The form was this . the vassal took off his cap, belt, and spurs, and kneelmg down before his lord, placed liis two hands within his, and swore to ase his hands, his fortune, and his life, in his service. The lord on his side swore not to obUge his vassal to fight agains^, the king or the church, or indeed to continue, under any cif O.iNv.l flUeri CAFBT. h3 eleventh century, was divided as follows : — The sovereignty of the king extended over a territory equa- G-Jsv ] PHILIP I 9.1 lo aljout five of the present departixents ; the count ol Ver- tnandois in Picardy had two ; the count of Boulogne, one ; the earl of Flanders, four ; the two families of Champagnfl and Blois, six ; the duke of Burgundy, three ; the duke of Bretagne, five ; the count of Poitiers, seven ; the count ol Anjou, tlu-ee ; the duchy of Normandy, five ; the duchies ol Guienne and Aquitaine might be estimated at twenty-four The emperor of Germany and the counts of Toulouse shared the sovereignty of Lorraine, part of Burgundy, and the ancient kingdom of Provence ; and these were about equal to twenty- one departments. Thus we have accounted for the whole of the eighty-six departments into which modern France is divided. Of these, Anjou, Poitiers, Guienne, and Aquitain Delivered It is an Itahan poem written by Tasso, and is on<^ i f 1he mo?l beautiful that is to be found in any language. George. I think you once told us, mamma, that the Eu- gUsh first used crests and coats of arms in the crusades ; di^ the French also use them ? Mrs. M. They were in use among all the crusaders, an^ it was the business of the heralds of the army to make them selves acquainted with the different bearings of the different chiefs. Richard. And did the French continue to use them afte» they came home, as the English did 1 Mrs. M. Yes, just like the English ; and the custom wa> immediately adopted by all the nobles throughout France, a* creating an additional barrier between themselves and th* middle classes, who, from their increasing riches and numbers, were, to use a homely phrase, fast treading on the heels of. the nobility. George. That must have made these proud lords ver^- angry. Mrs. M. Many causes had combined to bring the uppe» and middle classes nearer together. Among the chief of thes^ causes we may reckon the crusades, which had been so great ly conducive to enrich the commoners at the expense of tho nobles. Many of those who had allowed their serfs to pur- chase their freedom were displeased when they returned hom« at finding how much they had diminished their own powei by having thus allowed their former dependents to escape fron> their rule. They therefore combined to maintain their own personal dignity and importance by every artificial means iu their power, and assumed family surnames, as wbU as family scats of arras, as a farther distinction between themselves and the middle classes. CoNV 1 PHILIP I. -s4 Richard. Could the merchants and those sort cf people be made knights at the time you are spealting of ? M7-S. M. Certainly not, according to the laws of knight* hood ; nor could any one who was not of noble birth be ad- mitted to enter the lists at a tournament. George. Were there tournaments, then, in France, so long ago ] Mrs. M. The French claim the honor of inventing them, and the mventor is said to have been a certain Geofiry de Pruilly, and to have lived about the middle of the eleventh century. But in all probability the tournament was only an improvement on the warlike games which the chivalrous customs of the times had introduced among the young men, who were accustomed to assemble in little parties from two or more neighboring castles to make friendly trials of their skill. By degrees these trials at arms came to be attended with more and miore pomp and ceremony, till at last they became almost affairs of state. Pruilly, however, seems to have the just credit of inventing, if not the tournamenJ itself, at least the laws and ceremonies by which it was con ducted. George. And do you know what the laws were ? Mrs. M. They were so many and so minute, that I can only attempt to tell you a few of the most important. The chief object of the competitors in these mock combats was to unhorse each other, and not to wound. It was therefore against the rules for a combatant to be fastened to his saddle, or to use a,ny deadly weapons. George. Then what weapons were they to use ? Mrs. M. Lances, staffs, and sometimes wooden swords This law, I believe, was not very strictly kept, as we often read of the knight being wounded, and severely, too, with sharp swords. Ricliard. It always seems very surprising how the knighta could fight, and gallop, and wheel about, cased in all that armor. Mrs. M. I am still more surprised at the horses, how they could move with all those trappings.* These tourna- ments were so exactly suited to the temper of the French, that their fondness for them became almost a madness. Even the ladies used to be present at them, and entered with tha greatest vivacity into the success of the several combatants. They would encourage their favorite knights by decking them * See the vignette at the head of Chtpter VIIl l«0 PHILir I [CuAr, IX with ribbons and scarfs from their own dress and during a long and anxious combat the poor ladies would appear at last almost stripped of their finery, which was seen tied to the ar- mor of the combatants. In time the cost of these tournaments was carried to an inordinate excess ; and there are many in- stances in which a French noble has been contented to end his days in distress, and to consign his children to poverty and obscurity, for the sake of giving a splendid tournament. Their dress and the equipment of themselves and their horses were enormously expensive. There were some who carried their foUy so far as to have the shields they used on those occa- sions set with jewels. George. Well ! I think that is the most foolish piece of vanity I ever heard of. Mrs. M. I can teU you of another still more foolish : There came up about this time a fashion of wearing immense peaks to the shoes. It was invented by the earl of Anjou, Bertrade's first husband, to hide some strange deformity in his feet. The fashion was immediately adopted in France, and the Normans brought it over to England. An old French writer tells us that they were worn two feet in length, and shaped like the tails of scorpions. The same writer tells us also that in a battle between the Greeks and some Norman knights, the latter were invincible as long as they remained upon their horses ; but that when dismounted they became a certain prey to their enemies, being rendered perfectly help- less by the length of their shoes, which hindered them iironj walking ex«ept -with the perpe^^ual danger of falling dowa at eTery step. CHAPTER X. LOUIS VI., SUllNAMED THK FAT. [Years after Christ, 110&-1137.] Ladies in the Dress of the Fifteenth CENTrnT. Iiouis, who had been associated in the crown at the aji t of eighteen or twenty, was about thirty years old when his fa»iiei died. He had no taste for learning, nor any political taleitts : but he had what was far better, a good heart, an inflexible love of justice, a friendly disposition, and a gay and cheerful temper. It might, however, be said of him, that his love of justice was on some occasions too inflexible, and led him to punish offenders with excessive rigor, and to oppose violence with violence. He was naturally brave and exceedingly active, nor did he allow his corpulence, which was such as to acquire him the surname of the Fat, to render him indolent. He never re- laxed in his vigilance, nor in his endeavors to protect the weaker part of his subjects from the oppressions of the rich he was almost continually engaged in petty wars against his nobles ; and while he was with his army, he lived with his soldiers more hke their comrade than their Ling, partaking ef the same hardships, and exposing himself to the samo dangers. 102 tOUIS VI. [Chap X. I have alreaiy said, that the great lords in the neighhor bwd of Paris, taking advantage of the supineness of the late king, had many of them sought to repair their lessened for- tunes hy turning robbers. Their castles were filled with armed men, who were continually on the watch for travelers, whom they attacked and robbed, and sometimes murdered. If a rich naerchant was so unfortunate as to fall into the hands of these marauders, he was imprisoned in the castle dungeon, and tortured till he would agree to pay such a ran- som as the lord of the castle chose to demand. Louis had endeavored during his father's life-time to re press these practices, and as soon as he was established on the throne, he set himself diligently to punish the offenders. He foimd this, however, a very difficult task ; for no sooner was one subdued than another arose up in his place. He had hoped to win over one of the most powerful of those depreda- tors, by causing his own brother Philip to marry his daughter and heiress. But Philip joined with his father-in-lav/, and thus the king had two enemies where he before had one. In a few years Louis found himself called on to attack a more distant enemy. Henry I. of England, having unjustly seized on Normandy, kept his unfortunate brother Robert in perpetual imprisonment, and obliged his son William to fly for safety and protection to the king of France. Louis readily granted William the protection he sought, and in 1119, being joined by many nobles who were alarmed by the increasing power of Henry (who had built the castle of Gisors to over- awe the frontier), marched with a considerable army into Normandy. A battle was fought between the two monarchs at Brenneville, which terminated to the advantage of the English. The loss was not great on either side. Owing to the eagerness of each party to take their enemies alive, for the sake of their ransoms, only three knights were slain. A peace was afterward effected between the two kings by the good offices of pope Calixtus II., who was at that time in France, having fled from the disturbances in Italy, occasioned by the contest, which was still as violent as ever, between the em- peror Henry V. and the cardinals. In 1124 the war again broke out between Louis and the king of England, who called upon the emperor of Germany, who had married his daughter Matilda, to assist him. The emperor was glad to be revenged on Louis for the protection he had given to Calixtus, and set about preparing for the in- vaeion of France. A..I). J124.J LOUIS Vl. lOi Louis had no means within his own small territory ot repel ling so powerful a foe ; he therefore unfurled the orijlunirac, a banner which was kept with great veneration in the Abbey of St. Denis, the titular saint of France, and which was to ba hi ought forth only on the most important emergencies. The unfurhng of the oriflamme called on all the feudal retainers of France, from one end of the country to the other, to assemble round their king, and to follow him to the war. The summons was promptly obeyed, and Louis found himself, almost, as it were, instantaneously, at the head of 200,000 fighting men. The intended invasion, however, never took place, the emperor dying in 1125. A short time before his death he had made peace with Calixtus, who returned to Rome, and tranquillity was for a time restored to Italy. In the year 1127, Louis bestowed on Wilham, the young prince of Normandy, the earldom of Flanders, to which in deed he had a claim in right of his grandmother Matilda, the wife of the Conqueror. But William had a very short enjoy- ment of his earldom. He died in consequence of a neglected wound, while yet in the flower of his age. In 1131 Louis had the misfortune to lose his eldest son, a very promising youth, who had been crowned about two years before. The manner of this prince's death exposes to us the neglected and filthy state in which the streets of Paris were then sufiered to be kept. The streets were very narrow, and full of dirt and rubbish, and pigs were allowed to range about in them. One of these pigs ran against the horse which the young prince was riding, and caused him to fall ; and the rider was so severely hurt as only to survive a few hours. On this occasion an order was issued declaring that no pigs should be in future sufliered in the streets. The monks of the Abbey of St. Anthony remonstrated against this order, and an especial permission was given to their pigs to run in the streets, pro- vided they had bells about their necks. The death of his eldest son caused such inexpressible grief to Louis, that he was for a time too much overpowered by it to be able to attend to pubhc affairs. In 1 132 he crowned his next son, Louis, who was then only twelve years old. Antiquaries conjecture that it was upon this occasion that the peers of France were reduced in num- Der, and Limited to twelve. The king, as he advanced in life, found the inconvenience of his excessive corpulence to increase, and that his constitu- tion was fast breakinff down. In 1134 he was seized with m^ LOUIS VI. [Chap. \. an alarming illness, and believing his end approaching, he -was anxious to be reconciled to his enemies and to die in peaoc with all the world. Contrary to his expectation he recovered, and hved three years afterward ; but his resolutions survived the first alarm of his illness, and he passed these last three years in tranquillity. The death of Henry of England, in 1136, delivered him from Ms most formidable enemy ; and Stephen, who seized on England and Normandy, was too much occupied in defending himself against Matilda and her husband Geofiry to have time to turn his attention toward France. Geoffry Plantagenet was so much disliked by the Normans, who knew his violent and unfeeling temper, that they gladly acknowledged Stephen as their duke. William the Tenth, duke of Aquitaine, took the part of GeofTry, and joined him in making an invasion of Normandy ; but the dreadful excesses committed by these invaders only confirmed the Normans in their detestation of Geofiry, who was obliged to retire into Anjou. Upon Geofiry 's death, however, in 1151, the Nor- mans acknowledged his son Henry as their duke. In the mean time the recollection of the cruelties which he had committed in the invasion of Normandy dwelt on the mind of the duke of Aquitaine. The best measure he could devise to relieve the burden of his troubled conscience was to go on a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. James of Compostella. in Spain. He set about arranging all his affairs before he went, and believed that he had provided for the security both of his family and his dorriinions, by offering Eleanor, his eldest daughter and heiress, in marriage to Louis, the eldest son of the king of France. William proceeded on his pilgrimage, and died in the church of Compostella during the performance of divine service. .v. The marriage of Louis of France and Eleanor of Aquitaine and Guiemie was celebrated at Bordeaux with all suitable pomp ; but as the youthful couple were on their way to Paris, they were met at Poitiers by messengers who brought them the news of the king's death. Louis the Fat died August 1, 1137, and never was a king of France more sincerely lamented, more particularly by the poorer classes of his subjects, whose friend and protector he had always been. He died in the fifty-eighth year of his age, and the thirtieth of his reign. When young, his father had made him marry a sister ol tho cruel Hugh de Cressy ; but he divorced her as soon as he A.D. 1137.] - LOUIS VI. 10: was his own mast(;r. In 1115 he married Adelaide of yavoy, by whom he had six sons and one daughter : (1.) Philip, who died in consequence of a fall from hia horse. (2.) Louis, succeeded his father. (3.) K-oLert, count of Dreux. (4.) Peter, married the heiress of the Courtenays. (5.) Henry, ecclesiasl/c. (6.) Philip, ecclesiastic. Constance married, first, Eustace, count of Boulogne ; sec- ondly, Raymond V., count of Toulouse Louis, during his wars with the Larons, found that the strength of his government lay among the merchants and to\vnspeople, and he therefore united his interest with theirs against the nobles, and granted the towns many valuable charters and immunities, which tended to deliver the citizens from the excessive tyranny of their immediate feudal superiors. One of the clauses in these charters fully proves how much the citizens stood in need of protection. It was this : — That all criminals should, if found guilty, be punished according to the estabhshed law of the land, and not according to the wiU or caprice of their lord. The citizens were glad to avail themselves of the good in clination of the king toward them, to procure charters for forming themselves into comm,u9ies, which was another word for associations for mutual defense. It was the practice of these communes to elect from among themselves a chief magis- trate, whose business it was to watch over the safety of the rest, who were all to assist him in time of danger. The formation of these communes was strenuously opposed by the nobles, whose despotic sway they greatly abridged ; and they were one chief cause that lengthened out the wars between them and the king. Some writers give Louis more merit than he probably de- served in regard to the charters which he granted to the towns, and say that they proceeded from his love of freedom and justice ; but the probability is, that he was induced to grant them for the sake of weakening the power of the nobil- ity, and also for the sake of +he money which the citizens were willing to give for their enfranchisement ; and it is sin- gidar that he would not alloAV communes in his own good towns of Paris and Orleans. Whatever were the king's motives, the effect was eminent- ly beneficial. The people began to feel themselves no longer at the mercy of capricious and often cruel masters. Arts, sciences, and commerce flourished ; waste lands were brought into cultivation ; the chains of slavery were broken. In an »Ofj LOUIS VI. ' [Uhap. X othi3r oiiitury freedom spread from the towns into the country districts, and the peasants were no longer hought and sold with the trees that grew on the soil. In the course of time the cities became so rich and powerful that it was thought necessary to admit deputies from the communes into the gen- eral assembhes of the nation, which till then could only be attended by nobles and prelates. But the proper date of these last great changes is the fourteenth century, and I shaU have to speak of them again in their place. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER X. George. I am afraid it is a foohsh kind of curiosity, but I can not help puzzhng myself with thinking what sort of tor- tures these wicked barons inflicted on their rich prisoners. Mrs. Markham. It is not a species of knowledge that will give you either pleasure or instruction. However, that you may not -puzzle yourself any longer, I wiU describe to you )ne of their common modes of torture. The unfortunate wretch was laid on his back on the ground, and heavyweights were heaped upon him till he agreed to pay the ransom that was demanded. Richard. But suppose he would not agree, what was flone then ? ilfrs. M.. Then more weights were heaped upon him till he died. Mary. Oh, paamma, how horrible I I do not wonder tha king wanted to rid the country of such cruel people. RicJiard. Indeed I think that it was now high time to place the people under the protection of the law, and to de- liver them from the caprice and tyramry of the nobles. Mrs. M. Among the many great changes which about this time took place in the condition of soeiety, there was none more remarkable than the increasing taste for learning which was to be observed, more or less, among all ranks of people ; at least among all who were raised above poverty. Ridiard. Was Louis an encourager of learning ? Mrs. M. He had no taste for learning himself He had been left, rather through carelessness than indulgence, to fol- low, when a child, his own inchnations, which led liim, as 1 have already said, to chivalrous sports rather than to study. The chief cause that encouraged learning in this reign was, that the sale of benefices being considerably if not totally Co XV. J LOUIS VI.: tm checked, the load to church preferment became eiJeetualiy opened to all who were eminent for learning or virtue. Low birth, which was an exclusion from other dignities, was nc bar to advancement in the church. This gave a great stim- ulus to the middle classes. The schools were filled with students, and it was extraordinary to see what a striking ef- fect this love of study had upon the manners of the inhabit ants of the towns, who became infinitely more civilized than formerly. George. That was just as it ought to be ; because you know, mamma, papa was telling us this very day that the word civilization is borrowed from citizen. Ricliard. Were there any vei^ great men among the scholars of this time ? Mrs. M. I believe I may name two who were very emi- nent : one was the Abbe Segur, and the other was Abelard. Segur is spoken of as being one of the wisest and m.ost virtu- ous ministers that ever governed France under any of her kings. He was of obscure birth and of an unprepossessing appearance, but had made use of no unworthy arts to pro- cure his advancement. He was abbe of St. Denis, and chief counselor to Louis the Fat, and afterward to his son Louis VII. He was a man of uncommon learning, and possessed, what is perhaps still more rare, an excellent judgment in the afiuirs of life. Abelard, the other great genius of this age, was a teacher of rhetoric, philosophy, and theology. So nu- Misrous was the concourse of scholars who flocked to hear him, that he was obliged to deliver his lectures in the open air, no hall in Paris being found capacious enough to contain. his audience. Ridiard. Did the nobles flock to hear these lectures, or were the students cliiefly of the middle classes ? Mrs. M. I do not suppose that Abelard had many nobles among his scholars. The nobility appear to have left the more serious studies to the inferior classes, and to have devoted themselves almost exclusix'^ely to poetry and romances. An acquaintance with the writings of the troubadours and trou- veres was now become a necessary part of the education of gentlemen, and of ladies also. Mary. Pray, mamma, who were the troubadours and the trouveres ? Mrs. M. They were poets and romance writers. The earliest troubadours were natives of Provence, who, instead of writing in Latin, composed songs in their native dialect 108 LOUIS VI. L^HAP. X Tney were in general persons of no education, but had tli* happy art of fascinating their hearers by the haraiony and simphcity of their verses. From this time the Provencal, or language of Provence, became the language of poetry, and, for the space of two or three centuries, was universally studied and admired. At length it ceased, all of a sudden, to be cul- tivated, and it is now almost forgotten, at least as a written language, although it may still be traced in the provincial dialects which are spoken in the south of France. One of the singularities of the poetry of the troubadours, and what made it, I suppose, so captivating to every ear, was, that it was written in rhyme, which they were the first to introduce into France, and which they are supposed to have learned from the Arabians. Mary. It is very odd that they could not find out rhyme for themselves ; it seems to me the most natural thing in the world. Richard. Is there any of the poetry of the troubadours now existing ? Mrs. M. There are, I understand, immense numbers of Provencal manuscripts preserved in the Royal Library at Paris, but the language is so obsolete that they are unintel- ligible to most readers. I have met with translations of some of the songs of the troubadours, which appeared to me very flat and tedious, being, chiefly compliments to the beauty, or complaints of the cruelty, of the ladies whom they pretended to admire. The troubadours were the greatest of all flatter- ers, and that probably made their poetry so delightful to those for whom it was written. They led wandering lives, and roved about at their pleasure, and were welcomed wher ever they went. Mary. And pray, mamma, who were the trouvcres ? Mrs. M. They were the jDoets of the north of France. Their songs were written in the French Wallon language, which, as I have before remarked, is the original language from which modern French is derived. The troubadours wrote only poetry ; but the trouveres were not only poets, but also wrote prose romances ; the name of trouveres, which signifies finders or inventors, being intended to distinguish them from the writers and compilers of true histories and chronicles. The first French romances were written bv Normans. Mary. Was nobody allowed to make verse* « sioriea except the regular troubadours and trouveres ? CoNV.1 LOUIS VI. I Mrs. M. Any "body who could niighi ot a tioubadour and when the Provencal poetry became s- n uch admired, many persons wrote verses for their amusement who were not poets by profession. William of Poitiers, of whom I have spoken to you as the leader of the second warlike expe- dition to the Holy Land, was a very famous troubadour in his day. A taste for poetry was at one time carried to such an excess among the higher orders, that every lady who was eminent for rank or beauty had her poet. And while the gentlemen had their tournaments and trials at arms, the ladies had what they called their courts of love and their trial of wits. At these meetings all poets were challenged tc appear and to recite their verses ; judges were appointed to decide on the merits of the competitors ; and prizes were given to the successful poet, with infinite parade and pomp. In these courts, a lady of the highest rank always presided, and they formed what might be called the dissipation of fashionable life in that period, and were the resort of all the frivolous characters of both sexes. In time they assumed a still greater solemnity, and became petty courts of justice for the settling of difficult cases of precedency, and of nice points in etiquette, and sometimes for the trial of graceless lovers. The discussions at these assemblies were so trivial and ridicu- lous, and their sentences awarded with so much parade and pomposity, that we are now puzzled to determino Avhethfti they were meant as a jest or whether thv'y wf re h^ d in real BPtriousness. CHAPTER XI. L(JUIS VII., SURNAMED THE YOUNQ [Years after Christ, 1137—1180.] Fr. \t of the Church of Notre Dame in Paris. Louis, at his acoerfsion, was eighteen years old. He pos- a'ssed from nature many arniahle qualities, among which was a tenderness of feeling, very unlike that hardness and brutality of character which was prevalent in the times he lived in. He was very devout, but unhappily his piety chiefly showed itself in superstitious observances, and not in that religion of the heart by wiiich the moral conduct is regulated. His talents were very moderate, and had received little improve- ment from education ; he was, however, notwithstanding his many errors and weaknesses, gi'eatly beloved by his subjects; and a contemporary writer thus speaks of him :' " He was a man of fervent devotion toward God, and of an extreme gentleness to his subjects ; full of veneration for the clergy, but more simple than became a king : and confiding too much in the counsels of artful and dishonest men, he left more than one stain on his otherwise praiseworthy name." In the early part of his life he displayed a degree of courage and animation which served to conceal the deficiencies of his understanding ; but in after-life,, when by the death of Segur and other wise counselors he ^^'as obliged to rely upon his own judgment, those deficiencies became but too apparent ; more especially when he wa? called into competition witb A..D ilI2.] LOUIS VII. Ill Henry II. of England, who was the most polit'c and long- sighted monarch at that time in Europe. In the early part of the young king's reign, he cliiefly occupied himself in chivalrous amusements, leaving the affairs of the nation to be conducted by Segur. In 1142 Louis became entangled in a dispute with pope Innocent II. concerning the right of investiture to the benefices in France, which Innocent assumed to himself Louis also drew on himself another enemy in Thibaud, earl of Cham- pagne. Tliibaud's sister had been married to the count of Vermandois, and Louis made the count, who was his own cousin, divorce her, and marry Petronilla, the sister of queen Eleanor, to prevent her dower from falling into the hands of any one who would interfere with the interests of France. Thibaud immediately commenced hostilities against the king and the count of Vermandois. Louis marched into Champagne, and took the castle of Vitry,* which he afterward set on fire, meaning only to de- stroy the fortress ; but the flames, raging more fiercely than he had expected, spread to the town, and burnt down a church, into which a great number of the inhabitants had fled for refuge. The king, who was near enough to hear tho shrieks of the dying wretches, and to see their half-consumed bodies, was struck with so much remorse and horror at this shocking scene, that he gave up the war, and made peace with Thibaud. Normandy was at this time the scene of a destructive war between the house of Anjou and Stephen of England. The south of France was also distracted by the contending claims of the descendants of the female branches of some of the great families which had become extinct in the male line. On a sudden all private quarrels were suspended, and all domestic concerns forgot. Accounts were received from Palestine that the Turks had taken Edessa, a town situate to the north of- the Euphrates, and held under the new kingdom of Jerusalem, and had massacred all the Christians whom they found there This intelligence spread universal consternation. A new cru- sade was immediately determined on, and was advocated with great earnestness by the king, assisted by St. Bernard, abbot of Clairvaux, a man revered for his wisdom and sanctity, and whom the people were so much accustomed to consult on all occasions, that he might be called the oracle of France. Though sinking under the weight of years and infirmities, * On the Marnr in the province of Champagne. !12 LOUIS VII. [Chalv XI he appeared at a meeting held at Vazelay, in 114C, ana urged the pecs. M. So far from being obliged, they were very much offended, and said that, she had no right to interfere in what they chose to do with their slaves. Accordingly, instead of setting the men at liberty, they caused all their wives and families to be shut up in the same place, where many of then; CbKT.l LOUIS IX. ' 155 actually died of sufibcation. On, this, the queen proceeded tc the prison with her attendants, and ordered them to force open the doors ; but so great was the dread of incurring the dis- pleasure of the church, that none had courage to obey her. The queen herself then took up an instrument, and struck the first blow. Thus encouraged, her attendants presently forced the door, and the prisoners were brought out. Many of them fainted at the queen's feet from the effects of the fresh air ; but those who were able to speak loaded her with thanks and blessings. Her kindness did not rest here, for she freed therr from the power of the canons, by enfranchising them and theii children. George. If Blanch governed in that way, she deserved to be regent. Richard. Pray, mamma, have you ever read the lord Joinville's history, and can you tell us something about it ? ^ Mrs. M. Lord Joinville was a nobleman of high, rank ; he was seneschal of Champagne, and was attached to the service of Thibaud, king of Navarre, and accompanied him on the crusade. After Joinvdle had taken the cross, but before he joined Thibaud' s army, he summoned aU his vassels and friends and kinsmen to his castle, and there entertained them for a week with all manner of feasting and merriment. Before he dismissed them, he told them that he was going to the holy war and might never return, and desired that if there was any one there to whom he had done wrong,^he would come forward, and he should receive amends. Joinville does not say whether any of them did so or not, but he goes on to tell us, that he then set out on pilgrimages to various holy places in the neighborhood, determining when he left his castlo not to enter it again till he returned from the holy wars. : In the course of these pilgrimages, which he made barefooted and in his shirt, he often had to pass in sight of his own home ; and he says, " I did not dare turn my eyes that way, for fear of feeUng too great regret, and lest my courage should fail on leaving my two fine children, and my fair castle of Joinville, which I loved to my heart." Mary. I think it was very hard upon his children that he would not go and wish them good-by. Mrs. M. Here is a little sketch of his "fair castle." Joinville having joined the troops of the king of Navarre, Eailed with them to Cyprus, where he first saw the king of France, who was so much pleased with his company, that 15B LOUIS iX. tCHiP. XIV from tliat time he had him constantly near him, and oftan asked his opinion and advice. ■ Castle of Joinville. George. If you please, mamma, you need not tell us the whole of what this lord Joinville says, but only that part about the king being taken prisoner. Mrs. M. You recollect, then, that after the battle of Mas- Boura, the French were in great distress for provisions, the enemy having cut off all their supplies. A pestilential disor- der also broke out. This was occasioned partly by the smell of the dead bodies, which had been thrown into the canal after the battle, and which had been stopped in their passage, as they floated toward the Nile, by a small bridge near the camp ; and partly, as was supposed, by the poor famished sol- diers having eaten eels which had fed upon the putrid bodies. The army was now in no condition to combat the Turks, who were advancing on all sides of it. On the day of the attack, the king, after defending himself as long as he was able, was at last obliged to retire from the heat of the combat ; and, to give you the good seneschal's own words, " Of all his men at arms there was only one with him, the good knight Sir Geof- frey de Sergine, and who, I heard say, defended him in like manner as a faithful servant defends the cup of his master from flies ; for every time the Saracens approached the king, he guarded him with vigorous strokes of the blade and point of his sword, and it seemed as if his strength was doubled. At last he brought him to a house where there was a woman Irom Paris, and taking the king off" his horse, he laid him on the ground, with his head on the woman's lap, and expected that every moment he would breathe his last." Louis was found in this state by the Saracens, who bore him off to the sultan's tent. As to what farther befell the king at that time Joinville is silent, being too much taken up with his own ad* ventures, which were indeed sufficiently distressing. Richard. I should like to hear what his adventumes were CoNV. I LOUIS iiX. 1." Mrs. M. Being very ill, he had gone on board a galley, in the hope of being conveyed with the rest of the sick to Da niietta ; but the vessel had scarcely moved from its station before the boats of the enemy appeared on all sides. They began an attack upon the nearest galleys, and poor Joinville, as he lay upon the deck, expecting his own turn to come every minute, saw the Saracens ransacking the other vessels, and dragging forth the crew and the passengers. The strong and healthy they took prisoners — the weak and ill they threw into the river. At last they boarded Joinville' s galley, and he thought his last hour was come. But one of the Saracens, either because he heard the sailors say that Joinville was the king's cousin, or, as we may rather hope, from real compas- sion, took him under his protection. Mary. What made the sailors tell such a fib ? M?-s. M. They thought, I believe, that it might induce the Saracens to save Joinville's hfe in hopes of a riansom ; but they might have spared themselves the falsehood, for the Sar- acens seemed to be actuated by better motives. As soon as they reached the shore, a number of men rushed at Joinville with drawn swords to cut his throat. " I felt," says he, " the knife at my throat, and had already cast myself on my knees ; but God delivered me from this peril by the aid of my poor Saracen, who led me to the castle where the Saracen chiefs were assembled." Here he was treated with tolerable kind- ness, and his "good Saracen" gave him a beverage, which in two days restored him to health. He was afterward taken to the place where the king and the rest of the army were con- fined. Mary. What became of the queen and the poor ladie.* who were left at Damietta ? Mrs. M. It was expected that the Saracens would im- mediately assault the town, and the French ladies were, as you may suppose, in great alarm, especially the queen. She was in such continual terror, that she thought every noise she heard was the approach of the Saracens, and was forever shrieking out, " Help, help — the Saracens are coming I" She had " an ancient knight," whom she would scarcely ever per- mit to leave her ; anri one day she threw herself on her knees before him, and in the greatest agony besought him that he would cut olT her head the instant the Saracens should storm the city, that she might not fall alive into their hands. To this the ancient knight replied, that he begged she would make herself perfectly easy, for it was what he had already 158 3L07IS IX, ,Ch • XIV determined in hi'^ fnn \xi3d to do, even if she had not de- sired it. George. And i^hat /venibrted her, I hope. Mrs. M. In the mJdst pf these alarms she gave birth to a son, who received the name cf Tristan, " because that he was born in misery and poverty." The queen was obhged to quit Damietta soon afterward, on account of its being given up to the Turks, and she joined the king at Acre. Mary. How glad they must have been to have met again after all their perils I Mrs. M. In the midst of every peril, the pious king never for a moment forgot his trust in God. When he finally quit- ted Palestine, and was on his voyage back to France, he would often recall the attention of his people to the power and mercy of God ; and would frequently exhort them " to examine themselves well, to see that tliere was nothing in their conduct displeasing to God ; beseeching them, if there was, to instantly clear themselves of it." Mary. I think it would keep one always good, to live with such a man as this king Louis was. Mrs. M. The society of the good and wise is one of the greatest blessings which God can bestow upon us in this life. I trust, my dear children, that whenever you have the enjoy ment of this blessing, you will not let it be thrown away upon you, but will endeavor to profit by it, to .your own advance- ment in wisdom and virtue.. RicJmrd. Did this entertaining lord of JoiuviUe go with St. Louis the second time ? Mrs. M. No ; the seneschal excused himself, by saying that he found, on his return from the former expedition, that his poor people had been so much oppressed and iU-treated, that he could not, in consideration to the duty he owed them, leave them again. He hved, honored and respected, to a very great age ; I believe he was upward of a hundred years pld when he died. His book appears to have been written at tho request of the queen. He says, that " she, knowiiig with how much loyalty and love he had served and attended the de- ceased king, her spouse, earnestly entreated hisa, y% honor of God, to write a small book or treatise of the ho]w ?-?f«»»s and iayingsof the above-mentione of the ancient counts of Toulouse devolved to the crown of France. Thibaud, king of Navarre, had been succeeded by his broth er, Henry the Fat, who died in 1274, leaving an infant daughter. The kings of CastUe and Aragon each tried ta obtain the young queen for one of their own sons ; but hei mother fled with her to France, and placed her imder the •protection of Pliilip ; and in 1284 she married Philip, the king's then eldest son, who assumed the title of king of Na- CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XV. Richard. As that queen, Maria of Brabant, was an en- courager of poets, I hope she afforded some protection to the poor troubadours. Mrs. Markham. Either the troubadours were all destroyed m the wars with the Albigenses, or else the taste for thei. CoNT.] PHILIP III. 165 poetry was gone by ; for we hear no more of them after this time, and then- light and lively songs were succeeded by a grave and nilegori^al kind of poetry. The Romance of the Rose which was begun by a poet in the roign of St. Louis, aad finished by another poet who lived thirty years later, was one of the most popular of these poems. IticJiard. I always thought it was written by Chaucer, our old English poet. Mrs. M. Chaucer's poem of the Romance of the Rose is a translation, or, to speak more properly, an imitation of the French poem.. I do not exactly know how many verses Chaucer has in his Romance of the Rose, but the original consisted of 20,000. Mary. I hope it was very entertaining, since it was so long. Mrs. M. It was the history of an imaginary dream. George. A dream of 20,000 verses ! I would not read il through — no, not to have a holiday all the rest of the year I Mrs. M. It was, however, much prized and admired in its day, and contained a description and personification of every possible human virtue and vice. At a time when peo- ple had so few books, it was a great merit in a book to be- long. Mary. When so few people could read, they could not want many books. Mrs. M. They seem to have made the most of those they had. In most fainilies the priest, and any one else who could read, were expected to entertain the rest by reading aloud to them. Few houses were provided with more than one book ; and when that one was read through, a new book was never thought of, but the old one was begun over again. Mary. If I had lived in those days, and could have cho- sen, I would have lived in a house or a castle where the book was a romance, and not a dull, tedious allegory. ' Mrs. M. The old romances were nearly as dull and te- dious as the allegories, and a great deal more absurd. They strangely and unscrupulously intermingled truth and fiction, and ingeniously disregarded all historical and geographical probabiUties. For instance, in one of them (of which I forget the name) Babylon is introduced into France, and placed on the confines of Bretagne ; and Judea is described as the ad- joining country to Ireland. One of the oldest and most celf> brated of these romances is entitled Brutus. KicJiard. It was a Roman story, I suppose. 161: PHILIP III. I Chap. XV Mrs. M. The name would naturally lead you to think 60 ; hut, in fact, it is a fahulous history of the kings of En- gland : and it is from this ismance that the histories of king Arthur, and of the enchanter' Merlin, are derived, as also many of those fairy tales which still amuse the children of the present day. Mary. Then was the romance of Brutus a child's book ? Mrs. M. By no means, my dear, it was written for the amusement of grave and growu-up people. The French have always had a great fondness for fairy tales ; and Mother Goose's tales, and many books of that description, are derived from the French. . George. I remember you once read us some pretty little stories in verse, which were something, but not quite, hke fairy tales, and you said they were French fables. Mrs. M. They were fabliaux translated by Mr. Way. A fabliau signifies a short tale in verse. This was a favorite species of writing in France, tiU it was, in the sixteenth cen- tury, succeeded by a sedate, sentimental kind of romance, the great charm of which consisted in a mixture of high- wrought sentiments and impossible incidents, jumbled most solemnly, and, at the same time, most comically together. Amadis de Gaul, so often quoted in Don Quixote, was one of these. Richard. I had several questions I wanted to ask you yesterday ; but we had so many things to talk about, I had aot time. Mrs. M. You had better ask them now, while you re- member them. Richard. In the first place, then, mamma, what was a seneschal ? M.rs. M. He was a sort of heutenant appointed by the king to superintend the distribution of justice in the different districts which were under the jurisdiction of the crown. The name of seneschal more particularly pertains to the southern parts of France. In the north these lieutenants were styled baillies, or bailifis. The appointment of seneschals and bail- lies tended greatly to weaken the power of the nobles, and to strengthen that of the crown : for the lower orders were thus enabled to appeal from, the tyrannical jurisdiction of their feu- dal chiefs to the sovereign legislation of the king. Ricliard. The next thing I wanted to know was, whera all the money came from whioh was paid for the ransom of Saint Loui.s ? .3oNV.] PHll.[P III. 167 Mrs. M. It \i-as doubtless raised with great diffiuultv. A-Hiong other expedients, the silver balustrades which sur- rounded the tomb of Hichard Coeur de Lion at Rouen were taken down and melted to make up the sum. Gsoi-ge. And I dare say Richard, if he could have known V/hat was going forward, would have thought that they were put to a very good use. Ria'iard. Pray, mamma, were these silver balustrades coined into money, or were they sent to the Turks all in a lump ? Mrs. M. They probably were sent " all in a lump ;" for it was then a common practice to pay large sums by weight in pieces of uncoined metal. Only a small quantity of money was coined for the convenience of small payments. Mary. It must have been very troublesome to pay money in those great heavy lumps of silver or gold. Mrs. M. The silver coinage of the early French kings was BO shamefully debased, that most persons probably preferred receiving a payment by weight to receiving it in coin. The practice of mixing silver and copper seems to have been be- gun by Philip I., whose silver coin was alloyed by one-third of copper. His example was followed by most of his succes- sors, and the old French coinage was very inferior, in point of real value, to the coinage of England. Most of the pre- tended silver money which was coined in the private mints in France (many of the nobles had mints of their own) was so bad, that from its color, which showed the want of good metal, it was called black money.* Bdchard. And now, mamma, comes the last question 1 had to ask you. What was that Greek fire with which the Turks molested the army of Louis ? Mrs. M. It was a kind of inflammable substance which burned every thing it came near. It was foimerly very much employed in all the eastern countries. llichard. How could the people who used it avoid being burned by it themselves ? Mrs. M. The art of using and of preparing this Greek fire was kept a great secret, and we know very httle about it Joinville tells us it was put into barrels, and was sent forth by means of a machine which he calls a petardie, but which he does not describe. Ho says, that when these barrels were sent off, they looked like dragons of fire flying through the air ; and that when the men saw one coming, they threw * &£>jeta nigra. 168 PHILIP ill 'Chap. XV . themselves upon their knees, and gave themselves up for lOSt. George. Could they not have run and got out of the way Dfit? Mrs. M. When the barrels fell, they exploded with a great noise ; the fire burst forth, and water would not extinguish it. Vinegar was said to have an efiect upon it ; but the best method, when that could be adopted, was to smother it with sand. Richard. Did the people of Europe ever make any of thin fire ? Mrs. M. Several of the crusaders learned, or believed that they had learned, the art of making it ; and antiquaries tell us it was composed of sulphur, bitumen, naphtha, and various kinds of gums : but . the only time that I can recoUect its being used in Europe to any purpose was once by Philip Au- gustus, who destroyed the English fleet at Dieppe with some Greek fire which he found at Acre, when he and king Rich- ard took that city, and which he brought with him to France. Richard. Ah I if poor king Richard could have knovra that when he helped to take Acre, he was helping to bum his own fleet ! George. Now that Richard has got to the end of all his questions, there is just one thing I want to say. The little picture you showed us yesterday of the castle of Joinville does not give me at all the idea of a castle, such as I should have supposed these fighting nobles would have hved in. Mrs. M. As the feudal system dechned, the nobles bo came less of fighters, and their chateaux (for in France every gentleman's house m the country is called a chateau) became less hke fortresses. Still, if you examine this little sketch of the castle of Joinville, you will perceive many traces of the ancient feudal castle. The dwelling of the chief is, you see, placed on the top of the hill, surrounded by a wall, which, although it is apparently intended more for ornament than defense, is a wail nevertheless. Along the slope of the hill is what the artist has doubtless intended for a vineyard ; and there, during times of danger, the laborers, while at work, were under the protection of the archers on the walls. At the bottom of all is the town or village, where the houses of the serfs stood clustering under the eye and shelter of theix liege lord. Georp;e. I should like to see a real old French cfistle, Ihal tiONT.j PHILIP III. Ifi'^ I might see what difierence there was betweon the castles in France and those in England. Mrs. M. If I may venture to judge by the prints which [ have seen of the ruins of old castles in France, I should "magine that the French built their castles with loftier towers and Avith still more massy walls than the EngUsh. In the general plan and disposition of the different parts of the build ing they were probably much alike. I find, however, one dis- similarity in the interior arrangements which may be worth noticing. The lord of an Enghsh castle always dwelt in the center tower or keep, the upper part of which was occupied with the state apartments ; while in a French castle the keep, or, as they called it, the donjon tower, was the habita tion of the four principal officers ; and the lord or castellain had a separate house in the outer ballium, which, in an En- glish castle, was the place appropriated for the barracks and stables, &c. Ricliard. What, pray, had those four officers to do ? Mrs. M. In a large castle they had a great deal to do The first was entitled the gtcard, the second the ivatch, the third the provisioner, and the fourth the gate opener ; and these names, as I suppose you will think, sufficiently explaij) the nature of their respective offices. H CHAPTER XVI. PHILIP IV., SURNAMED THE FAIil. [Years after Christ, 1285—1314.] A Knioht Templar. CiiARLEg OF Anjou, Kino of Sicily. The happiness and prosperity which France had of late enjoyed was now drawing to a close. The young king, un- like his father and his grandfather, was of a violent and un- forgiving temper. He was not deficient in abilities ; hut all the powers of his mind were directed to the gratification of his own selfish wishes. He loved money, not so much to hoard as to squander ; and he never scrupled committing any act, hoAvever cruel or unjust, to obtain it. He was extraor- dinarily handsome ; but the beauty of his person only render- ed the deformities of his character the more hideous. His wife, Jane, the heiress of Navarre, was also of a violent and vindictive temper ; and it was another misfortune of his reign that he had avaricious and insolent men for his minis- ters. Thus France, in the time of Philip the Fair, had her Full share of misery. In the early part of his reign Philip was much occupied by the afiairs of Aragon, and in endeavors to enforce the claim which his brother pretended to have to that kingdom, m right of the pope's donation. Edward I. of EngJaml A D :233.J PHILIP IV. 1 whose daughter was married to the king of Aragon, was de- sirous to maintain peace between Philip and Alfonso ; hut all his good offices were inefiectual. He could only obtain the release of Charles the Lame. Charles the Lame no sooner recovered his liberty than he and Charles of Valois joined their forces against Alfonso of Aragon and his brother James ; but after a struggle which kept Europe in a continual ferment for some years, the two Charleses were obliged to give up the contest, and to leave the princes of Aragon in possession of their territories. In 1293 a private quarrel between a French and an En glish sailor involved the two nations in a war. The quarrel being taken up by the crews of their two ships, spread from them to the fleets of both countries, and much piracy and outrage followed. Edward and Philip each demanded a compensation for the damage which his subjects had received, and this each refused to give. Philip summoned Edward as his vassal to appear before the parliament of Paris ; and Ed- ward sent his brother, the earl of Cornwall, to negotiate for him. But he, not being a politician, was no match for Philip, who prevailed with him to give up six towns in Guienne, as a mere matter of form, promising to surrender them again. When Philip, however, had once got possession of these towns, he refused to resign them. Edward was extremely angry at this proceeding, renounced his homage to Phihp, and refused to acknowledge himself a vassal of France. Philip teent Robert of Artois with an army into Guienne ;* but little was done, both kings being at this time more occupied with other projects. Edward's favorite project, as you probably re- member, was the conquest of Scotland, and that of Philip was the annexing Flanders to his o\vn dominions. Flanders was at this time in the possession of Guy Damr pierre, who had inherited it from his mother, the youngest sister to the countess Jane. He was a brave and venerable man, and was one of those knights who had accompanied Saint Louis to the Holy Land. The Flemings, naturally a fickle people, were easily won over by the bribes and artifices of Philip to take ofiense at the measiires pursued by their earl, and loudly to express their discontents. Guy, thinking that an alliance with England would strengthen his power at home, offered his daughter Philippa in marriage to Edward, the young prince of Wales. Philip was resolved to prevent this marriage, and took effectual means to do so. He invited ' On the Garonne, in the southwest part of France. 17% PHILIP IV LChap. XVI •»e old earl and his wife and daughter, under a show of friendship, to Paris ; and when they arrived he caused them all to he shut up in prison. The earl and countess obtained their liberty in about a year ; but Phillppa was not permittea to accompany them. The king, under the plea that she was his god-daughter, and that he had therefore a right to detain her, kept her a prisoner during the rest of her life, notwith- standing all the earl her father could do, and notwithstanding the united efforts of the pope and the king of England, who tried hard to obtain her liberty. You may easily believe that Philip's overbearing and am- bitious conduct made him many enemies. The king of Eng- Sand, the emperor of Germany, and many of the German princes, joined the earl of Flanders in a league against him. But Philip, by bribes and other means, contrived to counter- act this league ; and Guy soon saw all his allies fall away, and found that he had to bear the burden of the war alone. Pliilip made a truce with Edward in 1297, which was prolonged afterward from time to time. He also gave him his sister Margaret in marriage, and his daughter Isabella to the young prince of Wales. These affairs being settled, Philip turned his whole attention toward Flanders, which he seemed determined to overwhelm. He summoned all his vas- sals ; and, that no one might be hindered from obeying the summons, he forbade all trials by combat, all private wars, and all tournaments, till such time as " the king's wars should be ended." The command of the army was given to Charles of Valois v/ho entered Flanders in 1299, and besieged Ghent, where the earl and his family were. The earl, finding liimself thu* hardly pressed, determined to go to Paris and plead his cause with the king in person. The count de Valois undertook to conduct him, and promised that if he could not obtain peacp within the year, he would bring him back in safety to Ghent Under the faith of this promise, Guy, with two of his sons get out ; but when he arrived in Paris, Philip protested thai he was not bound by the engagement thus made, and shul up the old earl and his sons in prison. At this Charles ol Valois was so much offended that he quitted his brother's Bervice, and went into Italy, and entered into that of the pope. Philip now believed himself master of Flanders. He £)laced garrisons in all the towns, and appointed Chatillon governor ; and, contrary to all his former promises, he loaded ^ D 1302. J THILIP IV in ihe people A\"tli taxes. The Flemings, unaccustomed to &uch i/ranny, resolved to free themselves from it. They rose uu as by one consent, and made a general massacre of the French. On the news of this insurrection Philip sent an army of 50,000 men into Flanders. The Flemings had only raw and undisciplined troops, and were destitute of experi- enced officers. The French army, on the other hand, con- sisted of veteran troops, and was commanded by Robert of Artois, the most experienced general of his age. But, as it happened, their apparent want of military skill proved the Flemings' best security : for Robert, despising them, and re- garding them as an army of shopkeepers, thought his victory over them so certain that he neglected many necessary pre- cautions. The consequence was, that in a battle, which was fought near Courtray, on the 9th of June, 1302, his troops Vi^ere completely beaten, and he and his son slain. After the battle the Flemings collected on the field four thousand gilt spurs, of the kind worn only by knights and noblemen, and himg them up in the church at Courtray as a trophy of their victory. Philip, more exasperated than ever, assembled a larger army than before, a'.id, commanding it in person, entered Flanders in 1304. He gained a great victory, and about the same time his fleet defeated the Flemish fleet. This double disaster reduced the Flemings to desperation, and, shutting up all their shops, they assembled in a vast mul- titude, and marching boldly up to the French army, which was then besieging Lisle, demanded peace or instant battle. This prompt and bold proceeding astonished the king, who granted them peace, one of the conditions of which was that their earl should be restored to them. He was accordingly set at liberty, and went back to liis country. Returning ai- terward to France to complete the treaty with Philip, he died there at the age of eighty. His son, Robert de Bethune, suc- ceeded to the earldom, and the Flemings, who, for the pres- ent, were cured of their love of change, remained tolerably faithful to him. These wars in Flanders, which I have thus briefly related, occupied several years. During the time they were going on, Philip had been also engaged in an angry war of words with Boniface VIII. This pope was one of the most imperious and haughty men who ever sat in the papal chair ; but in Philip he found a temper as ha^ighty and imperiou;' is hie 174 HIUP IV. L^HAP. XVI. own. Their disagreements tegan as early as the year 1 295, when Boniface sent to desire that Philip would make peace, with the king of England, on pain of excommunication. On this, Philip sent him word, in return, that it was the business of a pope to exhort, and not to command ; and that, for his part, he would allow no one to dictate to him in the govern- ment of his kingdom. This hold answer laid the foundation of a lasting enmity between Phihp and Boniface. They omitted no opportunity of thwarting and of injuring each other : they even descended to personal abuse. The pope told the king of France that he was a fool, and the king of France accused the pope of heresy, immorality of conduct, and even of magic. At last Pliilip took it into his head to have Boniface brought by force to attend a council which was to be held at Lyons. For that purpose he dispatched a chosen band of soldiers to Italy, under the command of Nogaret. They found the pope at his native town of Anagnia, in Abruzzo,* whither he had gone to avoid the many enemies whom his overbearing temper had raised against him at Rome. Nogaret bribed the people of Anagnia to admit him into the town ; and one of the Colonna family (the pope's chief enemies at Home) found entrance with him. Nogaret proceeded to the pope's palace, and easily became master of his person, and was leading him away prisoner, when Colonna struck the pope a violent blow on the face with his iron gaunt- let, which instantly covered him with blood. Boniface ut- tered loud and violent cries of pain and resentment. His countrymen now repented of having betrayed him into the hands of his enemies. They rose and rescued him, and drove Nogaret and Colonna out of the town. Boniface did not long survive the affront he had received ; it is said that the violence of his ungoverned temper threw him into a fever ; and that he died raving mad, having, in the paroxysms of his frenzy, gnawed off his fingers. His death took place in 1303 ; he was succeeded by Benedict XL, a mild and peaceable man, who was desirous to heal the breaches wliich had been caused by the violent conduct of his prede- cessor. Benedict, however, lived only a few months, and af- ter his death the cardinals found it so very difficult to choos. a successor, that the papal see remained vacant more than a year. At last Bertrand de Got was elected pope, and took the name of Clement V. He was a native of Gascony, and consequently a subject of the king of England ; but he was • In Italy. 4..D 1305 I'HILIP IV. 17S completely won over by Philip to the interests of France, 9Ji(\ iremoYed the papal see from Rome to A"vignon.* qii^s9 ,1 ' ' S-r ^,:.-. _ "-^J^^^^^Ss^"""^"- AVI6N0N Clement was crowned pope at Lyons, Nov. 14, 1305, ni the presence of the king and the chief nobles of France. As the pope was returning from church, the king, who had been leading the pope's horse, resigned his office to the duke of Bretagne, and mounted his own horse. At that moment an old wall, on which a number of persons were standing to view the procession, fell ; the duke of Bretagne was killed on the spot, and many other persons were killed and wounded. Th'ji pope himself had a very narrow escape ; he was struck on the head by a stone, which knocked off his tiara. The king and his brother, Charles of Valois, also received hurts. This melancholy adventure of the new pope was regarded as a very bad omen by all the superstitious people of the time ; ut I do not know that any great disaster followed, except, indeed, the disastrous fate of the Knights Templars, whose ruin took place during his popedom. These kiughts, as I be- lieve you know, were an order of militaiy monks, which had been established during the early times of the crusades for tht? * AvAgttoa is near the mouth of the B-hone. 1T6 T'HILir IV. [Chip. XVI protection of tlie pilgrims who visited the holy sepuleher They had, in the course of time, become exceedingly affluent; and had purc.iased lands in several countries of Europe. They lived dispersed, but were still under the dominion of their grand master, who exercised a despotic control over them. The Templars in France had taken part with the people jii some popular commotions ; and partly on this account, and partly for the sake of getting possession of their riches, Philip had marked them for destruction. He had many secret con- ferences on this subject with Clement, who used, for the sake of greater privacy, to meet him in a wood near Avignon. It was concerted between them that Philip, under pretense of holding a consultation with the Templars respecting a new crusade, should summon them to appear at Paris in October^ 1307. The grand master, James de Molai, was then in Cy- prus ; but he and sixty of his knights nevertheless obeyed the summons. As soon as they arrived they were thrown into prison, and accused of a variety of crimes, of which they were innocent : but their innocence availed them little ; the pope dissolved their order, and fifty-seven of the knights were con- demned and burned alive. The grand master, and three of his principal officers, remained in prison. After lingering some years in confinement, they urgently demanded to be brought to trial; and in 1314 were indulged with a sort of mock trial, and de Molai, who could not read, was made to affix his seal to a confession of crimes. He and his compan- ions were condemned to perpetual imprisonment, and they were placed on a scaffolding, raised in front of Notre Dame, to hear their confessions and their sentence read. De Molai exclaimed, with a loud voice, that their confessions were false ; that he and his knights had been trepanned into assenting to them ; and that they were innocent of the crimes imputed to them. On this the king was violently enraged, and ordered that they should all be burned to death by a slow fire. The place he appointed for their execution was at the back of the garden wall of his own palace ! The knights submitted to the tortures of their lingering death with incredible constancy. It is said that de Molai, while at the stake, summoned the pope in forty days, and the king in four months, to appear be- fore the throne of God to answer for his murder. It is certain thart both the pope and the kmg died nearly within the stated time. The order of the Templars was every where suppressed ; but in no country were they treated with so much cruelty as A.l>. 1314.1 PHILIP IV 17? ai France. Their possessions were nominally transferred tc the order of the knights of St. John of Jerusalem ; but thf king and the pope, it is supposed, retained the greater part. The government of Philip grew every year more oppres-sive. 'ifter he had exhausted the resources of taxes and imposts, he had recourse to debasing his coinage, and at the same time increasing the nominal value of it — an expedient which could only afford him a temporary rehef, and was very ruinous to his subjects. The latter years of his reign were also disgraced by the levity of his sons' wives. Philip had three sons, Louis, Philip, and Charles. Mar- garet, the wife of Louis, was punished for her misconduct with great severity. She was imprisoned in Chateau Gadlard, and it is supposed was privately put to death. Blanch, the wife of Charles, saved her life by declaring her marriage null, by reason of consanguinity, and her punishment was remitted to perpetual confinement in a convent. Jane, the wife of Philip, was probably considered as the least guilty of the three, and was restored to her husband and family, after a year's impris- onment. In 1314, as Philip was huntiiag in the forest of Fontain bleau, his horse fell with him, and he was so much hurt, that he died Nov. 4. He was in the forty-sixth year of his age, and the twenty-ninth of his reign. While on his death-bed, he was touched with a late re- oentance, and taking pity on his poor oppressed people, he be- sought his son Louis, with his dying breath, to moderate the taxes, to maintain justice and good order, and to coin no base money. Philip married Jane, queen of Navarre, who died in 1303 He had three sons and two daughters : (1.) Louis, (2.) Philip, (3.) Charles, who all reigned suc- cessively, and died young without heirs male. The crown then went to the son of Charles of Valois. (1.) Margaret, married Ferdinand of Castile, son of Sancho, the usurper. (2.) Isabella, married Edward II., king of Eng- land. During this reign, the dominions of the crown were in- creased by Champagne and Brie, which was part of the in- heritance of the queen of Navarre. Philip also forcibly annexed the city of Lyons to his own territories. That city had formerly belonged to the kingdom of Aries, but latterly had been independent, and was g"-'-'erned by an archliishop. i78 FHILir IV [Chap. XVi During the whole of Philip's reign it had been his policj to depress the nobles, and to raise the middle classes of thi. people. He allowed persons of low birth to purchase fiefs, by the possession of M^hich these persons were elevated to the rank of nobles. He still farther mortified the old nobility, by issuing a patent of nobility in favor of Ralph, his goldsmith. And to raise the condition of the middle classes in general, he allowed the different communes to send deputies to attend the meetings of the states-general, which till then had been com- posed only of nobles and prelates. In 1300, pope Boniface VIII. established a jubilee. This festival was kept with great solemnity, and so many people resorted to Home to be present at it, that many nobles, not being able to procure lodgings, were obliged to sleep in sheds and hovels, and some even in the streets. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XVI. Richard. Pray, mamma, what were the states-general ? i suppose they were much the same as our parliaments. Mrs. Markham. They have very frequently the name oi parliament given to them ; but as there also existed in France, from a very ancient period, other and very different bodies also called parliaments, it is proper and necessary to distinguish between them. In all the feudal governments, the power of the crown was originally confined within narrow limits. I do not mean that it was confined by any strict law : laws in rude ages are sel- dom exact ; but the feudal chiefs, who held under the king, were in general so powerful, that the king could seldom do much in opposition to them, and was obliged to be guided very much by their wishes. In France, as I have already told you, a general assembly of the nation was anciently held every spring, at first in the month of March, afterward in May. The monarch was by the constitution greatly dependent on this assembly, though such a man as Charlemagne probably led it as he pleased. After Charlemagne, when the mon- archy was much weakened, and many nobles became more powerful than the crown, those nobles who thought themselvea too great to condescend to admit the king's authority in theii own domains, cared not to attend this national council, and i< accordingly fell gradually into decay. Philip the Fair, in whose time the crown bad gained * OcNV.J PHILIP IV. 17: very considerable and important ascendency over the nobles convened in 1302 what are properly called the states-general These states were composed, in the first place, of clergy, who took the precedency ; secondly, of nobles ; and, thirdly, of the deputies of the commons, or third estate, who now, for the first time, were assigned a regular place in this solemn and deliberative public assembly. Subsequent meetings of the , states-general were frequent till the year 1614, from which time they were discontinued till 1789, when they were again summoned at the eventful crisis of the Revolution. ' Ricliard. And what were the parliaments, as distinct from the states-general ? Mrs. M. The parliament of Paris appears to have em- anated from a supreme council, which, under the kings of the house of Capet, was composed of the immediate feudal vas- sals of the crown, the prelates and officers of the royal house- hold. This was the great judicial tribunal of the French crown. St. Louis made a considerable alteration in its con- stitution, and it acquired in his time the title of Parliament. Philip the Fair fixed its seat at Paris. The parliaments, in addition to their judicial functions, were employed to register and authenticate all the royal edicts, and assumed a right to remonstrate against, and in very many cases to delay, and in. some absolutely to refuse to register them. Charles V. per- mitted the members of the parliament to fill up vacancies in their body by election ; and though this privilege was resixmed afterward by the crown, yet it was restored by Louis XI. ^ who also appointed that they should retain their stations fbi life. Thus the parliaments acquired great power in the state, and preserved, even through the most despotic reigns, the form and memory of a comparatively free constitution. When the parliaments refused to register the king's edicts, the king was obliged to proceed in person to the place where they held their sittings, and insist on the registering them ; and the parlia- ments could not refuse this to the king in person. The king's seat on these occasions was on a sort of couch under a cano py ; and hence we often hear of his holding a bed of justice. Several of the provinces had also separate parliaments. Ther were parliaments of Toulouse, Rennes, Dijon, Grenoble, and other places. Mary. I don't see why the French nobles need havn teen so very angry, when the king made his goldsmith a no- Dleman. Mrs. M- Thi^y regarded it as a g)i''at infriiigemoiit oi thXJ PHILIP IV. [Chat. XVI the privileges of their i>rder. The French nobles were the proudest people in Europe, and, on account of their descent from the Franks, looked on themselves as a distinct and su perior class, possessing rights and dignities which could not lie shared by any other. Thus the king, although he might make Ralph the goldsmith a count, could not make him a descendant of the Franks ; and therefore, according to the notions entertained by the nobles, the goldsmith could not bo a genuine nobleman. I am told that this distinction between the descendants of the original nobility, and those whose fa- »nilies have been ennobled by the royal patents, is still, in some degree, kept up. These two different classes of no- bility are distinguished by the terms of the nobles and the ennobled. Richard. I think that was a tolerably peremptory law oi Philip's which " forbade all private wars till the king's wars were ended." Mrs. M. When the king's wars ivere ended, he rode full accoutered into the church of Notre Dame, and returned thanks at the altar for his victory over the Flemings. Mary. Do you mean, mamma, that he really rode on horseback into the church ? Mrs. M. He really did, and an equestrian statue was af- terward placed in the church, an exact representation of him and his horse. George. Pray, mamma, is that kind of high cap which popes are always drawn with called a tiara ? Mrs. M. Yes, my dear; and if you will examine one of these tiaras, you will observe that it is formed of three crowns, one above another. Richard. I should have thought one crown was enough to wear at a time. Mrs. M. Boniface VIII. surrounded the tiara with its first crown ; Benedict XII. assumed the second ; and John XXIII. added the third. The practice has been followed by all succeeding popes. Mary. WiJl you tell us, if you pbase, mamma, how the ladies in France used to dress at this time ? Mrs. M. The female dress was at this time wejj graceful It consisted of a tight bodice, made very high, and fitting the shape, over which was an open robe, trimmed either with gold or fur. The breadth and richness of the trimmmg de- pended on the rank of the wearer ; and there Were very strict laws bv which these thinos were regulated. IkjNT J PHILIP IV. I8t George. And pray, mamma, how were the men dressed 7 Mrs. M. Persons of distinction had long tunics with cloaks over them. Short tunics, or jackets, were worn only by servants, excepting in a camp, and then they might be worn by gentlemen. The same laws wliich regulated the trimmings of the ladies regulated also the cloaks of the gen- tlemen, whose capes were cut, not " according to their cloth," but according to their rank. All ranks wore hoods, called chaperoThS, the size and shape of which were under exact reg- ulation. The nobles had them very large, and let them hang down the back ; and those of the common people were smaller, and shaped like a sugar-loaf, and were worn really to cover their heads. Mary. I think those laws about capes and trimmings must have been very foolish and troublesome. Mrs. M. Laws of this nature are called sumptuary laws. Philip IV. enacted a great number of them ; he not only regulated the expense of each dress, but also the number of dresses each person was to have. Richard. That was the most provoking of all. Mrs. M. I can tell you of another law, which you will perhaps think still more provoking. There was a law regu- lating the number of dishes which each person might have for dinner and supper. Ricliard. O I I don't think I should have minded about that, provided the dishes were not stinted in size as well as in number. Mrs. M. No person was to have more than one dish of ?oup and two dishes of meat for dinner, and the same for supper. George. I thmk that was a very fair allowance for supper. Mrs. M. You must recollect that they dined at the very early hour of half-past eleven ; they therefore required a more solid supper than we do. The usual supper- hour was between four and five in the afternoon. Mary. If we had such laws about dinners and suppers in England, I suspect they wotJd not be very well kept. Mrs. M. To say the truth, the strictness of the law for- bidding many dishes was sometimes evaded by putting difler- ent sorts of meat into the same dish ; but the good folks of France were not long allowed to enjoy the benefit of -this ingenious contrivance, for the king afterwar i made a law lb' iv Iding it. 182 PHILIP IV. [Chap. XVi George. I lon't vicnder the country was so full of discon- tents. I think the eld saying, of having " a finger in the pie," must have come from that over-meddling of king Philip Mrs. M. The French were always a comparatively ab- stemious people, and perhaps did not think tliese restrictions on their meals so very serious a grievance as you seem to do. They were always much fonder of show than of comfort ; and even so long ago as Philip the Fair's reign, the inferior gentry, who were generally very poor, would try to hide their poverty by external finery. The English, on the contrary, preferred good living to show. The English yeomanry of this period are said to have lived in mean houses, but to have kept plen tiful tables. In one respect, however, their houses were better than those of the French ; for the houses in England had the luxury of chimneys long before they were known in France. George. I was always sure that in all material things the English were much cleverer than the French. Mrs. M. The English might perhaps be cleverer in rn gard to chimneys, but the French beat them in glass windows:. The English were obliged to have French artificers to make all the glass windows in their older churches. Most of the finest painted glass in our cathedrals came from France. Glass was at first chiefly, if not solely, employed in both countries for religious buildings. It was not used in France in domestic architecture till the fourteenth century. When we were speaking of the laws made by Philip to restrict his subjects' dinners, I ought to have told you of a very singular custom which at this time prevailed in France. Mary. What was it, mamma ? Mrs. M. It was a custom for people to eat ofi' each other's plates, and this was thought so great a mark of politeness, that if a gentleman sat next a lady at table, he would have been thought very rude if he did not eat off' her plate. Geoi-ge. One would almost think that the poor souls were Etinted in plates as well as in dishes. Richard. Pray, mamma, shall we have the history of any more crusades ? Mrs. M. We have now come to the end of the crusades ; for though several of the succeeding popes tried to excite an- other, the princes of Europe were at length become too wise, and the crusade which was undertaken by St. Louis and oui Edward I. proved the last. Georg, ?. What becavne of all the Latins in Palestme ? A.U 1314.] LOUIS X. 133 3Irs. M. Their poAver dwindled away, till of all theii possessions in the East, the town of Acre alone remained to them. But although their power was gone, their pride and their ambition remained. Acre was taken by the Turks in 1291 ; and even .while the Turks were storming their town, the Latins were occupied in contentions for the title of king. Some of the laiights escaped, and afterward possessed them- ^3lves of the island of Rhodes ; the rest were massacred by the Turks ; and thus closes the history of the don: nion of the Latins in Syria. CHAPTER XVII. LOUIS X., SURNAMED HUTIN. PHILIP V., SURNAMEP THfl LONG. CHARLES IV., SURNAMED THE P^IR. [Years after Christ, 1314-1328.] Huntsman and Valet or Philip the Fair. (From their tombs.) These three brothers leigned one after the other in rapia succession, and all died in the prime of life, leaving no male heirs. As these reigns are very short, I think it best to place them in one chapter. To begin then with Louis surnamed Hutin, a word whicli some English historians translate " the Quarrelsome," and others "the Peevish" Too little is known of this king's 184 LOUIS X. [Chap. XVII temper ana character to enable us to say how fai he dos3rved either of these opprobrious epithets ; but, judging by his con- duct daring tlie short time he reigned, we may reasonably believe that he was very covetous, and of a restless, lAnsettled humor. He was twenty-six years of age when he began to reigu. At first he allowed his uncle, Charlrs of Valois, to take tha chief direction of affairs. Charles's first act was to compas? the ruin of Enguerrand de Marigny, the late king's minister He caused him to bs accused of theft, and to be condemned and executed without having been permitted to speak in his own defense. The wife of de Marigny was also accused of conspiring to compass the king's death by magic, and was thrown into prison. After the lapse of many years, Charles of Valois became convinced of his injustice toward de Marigny, and repented bitterly of it. He at length endeavored also to make some reparation, the only reparation, indeed, which it was in his power to make. He restored all the forfeited estates of Ma- rigny to his children, and caused his body to be taken down from the gibbet where it had continued to hang, and to be honorably interred. This took place in the year 1325. I must now return to the beginning of the reign of Louis Hutin. Hostilities having again broke out between France and the Flemings, Louis was desirous of marching into Flanders ; but before he could do this, he found it necessary to replenish his coffers, which his father had left empty. Among other means of raising money, he issued a procla mation, offering to enfranchise all the serfs in the royal do- mains on their paying a certain sum. But the greater part of them preferred their money to their freedom. Louis then hit oil the singular expedient of forcing them to be free, whether they would or not, by making a ..aw to oblige them to purchase their enfranchisement. Having at last collected an army, he laid siege to Courlray ;* but the elements conspired against him. Such torrents of rain fell that the roads were rendered impassable, and it was scarcely possible even in the camp, to get from tent to tent without sinking up to the knees in mud. Provisions also be- gan to fail, and the king was obliged to raise the siege and return to France ; but he first burned all his baggage, which, on account of the state of the roads, he could not remove, to prevent its falling into the hands of the enemy, * In F landers A D. 1318.] PHILIP V 135 In the following year Louis died suddenly. His death was At the time ascribed to poison ; but we may with much more reason attribute it to the effects of his own imprudence in drinking cold water after he had heated himself with playing at tennis in the Wood of Vincennes, and then sitting down lo rest himself in a damp grotto. He was seized soon afterward with a sudden chill, and died the next day. He was twenty- eight years old, and had reigned only nineteen months. He was twice married. By his first wife, Margaret, daught® of the duke of Burgandy, who died in prison, he had one daughter — Jane, queen of Navarre, who married the count d'Evreux. Louis, married, secondly, Clemence of Anjou, daughter of Charles Martel, king of Hungary. By her he had a posthumous child — John, who lived only eight days. When the king's death was known, a regency was ap pointed ; and on the death of the infant, Philip, the late king's next brother, ascended the throne, to the exclusion, according to the Salic law, of his daughter. Jane, however, Mas still heiress of the kingdom of Navarre, which had de- scended to her father from his mother, the queen of Navarre. The duke of Burgundy and the count d'Evreux seemed ai first determined to support the claims of Jane to the crown of France ; but the parliament having confirmed the law excluding females, and taken an oath to maintain Philip on the throne, all opposition was withdrawn ; and Philip secured the duke of Burgundy to his interests by giving him his daughter Jane in marriage. The young queen of Navarre was married to the count d'Evreux's eldest son, who by that means became king of Navarre. Philip reigned about six years ; the whole of which time proved, from different causes, a period of turbulence and dis- quietude. The king, we are told, was a man of good abilities, and desirous to remedy the disorders in the state ; but the seeds of evil were so deeply sown, and a lamentable corrup- tion of morals prevailed so generally, that his best endeavors availed but little. We are told that the crime of poisoning was at this time commoji in France. Philip made an attempt to reduce all the weights and measures throughout his kingdom to one general standard ; but he did not live to efl'3ct this beneficial regulation. Ho died of a lingering illness, at the castle of Vincennos, Januarv ■{Sb CHARLES IV. tOiiAP XVU 3, 1322, in the twenty-ninth year of his age! He married Jane, daughter and heiress of the count of Burgundy, and »f Mahaud, countess of Artois, and by her had one son and four daughters : — (1.) Louis, who died in his infancy. (2.) Jane, married Eudes IV., duke of Burgundy. (3.) Margaret, married Louis, earl of Flanders. (4.) Isabella, married the dauphin of Vienne. (5.) Blanch, a nun. The same law which had excluded the daughter of Loui? Hutin from the throne, now excluded the daughters of Phihp the Long ; and his brother Charles, surnamed the Fair, as- cended the throne without opposition. Money transactions in France (as also in England) were at this time chiefly carried on by natives of Lombardy. These people acquired prodigious wealth, and it was one of the first acts of Charles's reign to seize on their effects, and drive them all out of his kingdom. England was at this time in a state of great anarchy. Edward I., who had ruled with a powerful hand, was dead, and was succeeded by Edward II., a weak prince, who suffered himself to be governed by his favorites. He had married Isabella, Charles's sister ; and on a revival of the old claim of doing homage for .Guienne, Edward sent his queen to France to accommodate this affair with her brother. Charles agreed to excuse Edward from appearing personally, and to receive the homage of the yomig prince of "Wales in- stead. Isabella, when she had got her son with her in Paris, was in no hurry to return to England. She collected about her several English exiles, and some nobles who had left their country in disgust. She made Edmund Moitimer her favorite and confidant, and, planning to overthrow the weak, infatuated Edward, solicited aid of her brother foi that pur- pose. But Charles entirely disapproved of her conduct, and not only refused to give her any assistance, but desired her to quit France. I need not here say how Isabella went on, nor relate to you the imprisonment and death of her husband. About this time Flanders was in a very unsettled state I have already told you that the Flemings were a turbulent and changeable people. They were rich, and aspired at in- dependence, which caused a perpetual struggle between them and their rulers. In the course of a few years they often changed masters, and the peace between France and Flanders was, during the same period of time, often broken and re- newed. In 1325 died Charles of "\''alois. It has been sail of him, Cos v.: .>OUIS X.— PHILir v.— CHARLES IV. im as of our own John of Gaunt, that he was the son, the brother, the uncle, ar.d the father of kings, but was never a king himself. His disorder, which I have already said was of the mind, and occasioned by remorse, completely baffled his physicians, " who could not minister to a mina ■Jiseased." It was therefore attributed to magic, which was at that time the convenient way of accounting for every unknown disorder. On Clmstmas eve, 1327, the king was seized with a vio- lent illness, which, in a few weeks, terminated his life. He died in the thirty-third year of his age and fifth of his reign He was married three times : first, to Blanch ©f Burgimdy, whom he divorced ; secondly, to Mary of Luxemburg, sister to Henry VII., emperor of Germany ; and lastly, to Jane d'Evreux, by whom he had two daughters : — (1.) Mary, who died young, a few years after her father ; (2.) Blanch, a posthumous claild, mari-ied Philip, son of Philip of Valois. • As Blanch was not bom till some months after the king's death, a regency was appointed ; but when the expected child proved a daughter, Philip of Valois, the late king's cousin, assumed the crown, as being the nearest male heir. TABLE I. OF THE FAMILY OF CAPET. Pegar. to reign 987 Hugh Capet. 996 Robert. 1031 HPTiry L 1060 Philip L 1106 Louis VL, le Gros. 1137 Louis VII., le Jeune. 1180 Philip IL, Augustus. 1223 Louis VIII., the Lion. 1226 Louis IX., le Saint. 1270 Philip III., le Hardi. 1286 Philip IV., le Bel, also king of Navan-e. 1314 Louis X., Hutin, also king of NavaiTe, ) 1316 PhiUp v., le Long, } sons of Philip le BeL ^322 Charles IV., le Bel, ) CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XVII. Richard. In what way was it pretended that the wife cf Marigny tried to take away the king's life by magic ? Mrs. Markha7ii. She was accused of having made a wax image of the king, which she placed in a gentle heat so that it would melt gradually ; and it was supposed that, by means of her magical incantations, the king would waste away by rSS LOUIS X.— PHILIP v.— CHAKLES IV. IChi.p. XVII. degrees as the image melted, and that when the last atom of wax dissolved he would expire. Richard. The belief in magic was a fine thing for the physicians ; it must have saved them a great deal of trouble in studying the nature of disorders. Mrs. M. I omitted to mention among the events of the last reign, that the Jews had to endure a more severe persecu- tion than they had axex before experienced. The pretext was i.hat they had entered into a plot with the Turks to destroy all the people of France, by poisoning the springs of water. Ricliai'd. They must have been very clever Jews to have managed that. Mrs. M. The lepers also were implicated in the charge, and were accused of endeavoring to spread their loathsome disease. Consequently their hospitals or lazar-houses were stripped and pillaged. As for the Jews, they were deprived of all their possessions, and then banished from France. George. This is very like the story of the Jews in England It would have been much more honest if king Philip of France, and our king John, had said to the Jews at once, " We want your money, and we ivill have it," instead of calumniating them as well as robbing them. Mrs. M. It would have been more honest still, if they had left the Jews in peaceable possession of their property. Ridiard. I have been looking at the map of Paris, and I see there are other islands in the Seine besides the one wo used to call " the little old island." Mrs. M. There were formerly more than there are now for by means of bridges and quays, some of those have been joined that lie nearest together. The one you see, named the isle Louviers, was formerly covered with a grove of elms, and is now occupied as a timber and wood yard. The isle of Saint Louis was formerly a bleaching-ground, and was the place where the Parisians celebrated festive games. It is now joined to the isle of Notre Dame, and they form together one island, which is covered with buildings. Mary. Does the king still inhabit the palace in the old island ? Mrs. M. Louis Hutin was the last monarch who resided in that palace. He gave it up to the use ci the public : the courts of justice are held in it ; and it goes by the name of Le Palais de Justice. Mary. Then where does the king of France live when ha comes to Paris ? CoNV] LOUIS X.— PHILIP v.— CHARLES IV, ]8* Mrs. M. The palace of the Tuileries, which wast buill in 1564 by Catherine de Medicis, is the present habitation of the royal family. From the time of Louis Hutin till the Tuileries were built, the Louvre was, I believe, the favorite residence of the French kings. George. I remember you told us, that in old times, when the king came to Paris, the citizens were obliged to send thei. furniture to the palace. I hope, when he went away, thej got all their things again. Mrs. M. I hope they did. There is still extant a very curious letter from Philip Augustus, desiring that the old straw, with which the floors of the palace was strewed, may se given for the good of his soul to the use of the poor in the "House of God."* RicJiard. What was the House of God ? and what use could be made of the old, dirty straw ? Mrs. M. The House of God was an hospital for the sick, and the straw was probably used for the poor creatures to lie upon ; and I dare say it was very thankfidly received, for the hospital was, at that time, so ill supplied with beds, that a statute was made, exacting, that on the death of every canon of Notre Dame, his bed should go to the hospital. Mary. Then I hope in tiiAe they had plenty of beds, and comfortable ones too. Mrs. M. They had, indeed, plenty of beds at last, but I fear not very comfortable ones ; for, owing to the great increase in the size of Paris, the number of sick persons who were sent tc this hospital was so great, that the rooms were crowded to excess. Beds were placed one above another, and those at the top could only be reached by the help of ladders ; and even in these wretched, close, suffocating beds, the sick were huddled, five and six together — ^persons with all disorders, and even the dying with the dead. At last the state of the hos- pital was such, that to send a patient there was almost send- ing him to certain death. Mary. Poor creatures I it would have been better for them to have staid and died quietly at home. Mrs. M. 1\\ the reign of Louis XVI. an inquiry was made into the state of this hospital, and the king was arrang- ing a plan for some additional buildings, when the tumult ol" the revolution put an end to his benevolent designs. George. This is another reason for disliking that horrible French revolution. Maisoii de Dieu rao LOUTS X.— PHILIP V— CHxVRLES IV. [Chap. XVIJ Mrs. M. Happily for the poor wretches in the House or God, the revolution was productive of benefit to them ; foT when the religious orders were abolished, some of the con- vents were appropriated to the use of the hospital, and the sick are now (whether or no by fair means, I do not say) comfortably lodged, and the difierent classes of patients are kept separate. Ridiard. You once told' us something about the Wood of Vincennes, and I have quite forgot what it was. Mrs. M. I told you that it was a park close to Paris, and that it was inclosed by Pliihp Augustus. He built a hunting palace in the park. King Henry V. of England, resided in it when he was master of Paris, and died there. Richard. Is there a palace there now ? Mrs. M. There is a castle, or chateau, which has been greatly enlarged and beautified since those times. It was a favorite residence of many of the French kings till the time of Louis XI. He was, as you will hear when we come to his reign, a very wicked man, and his cruelties converted the chateau of Vincennes. from a house of pleasure into a house of misery, and after his time it was used as a state prison, a few apartments bemg alone reserved for the occasional accom modation of the royal family. ViNCENNSS OoNv.f LOUIS X.— PHILIP v.— CHARLES IV 191 Mary. It was a strange, uncomfortable plan, to mako prisons and palaces all in one Mrs. M. The donjon tower of Vincennes, which is the oldest part of the building, contained several dungeons, some of which had no daylight whatever ; and the stone beds which the prisoners lay on may stiU. be seen. Mary. I hope no prisoners are ever confined there now. Mrs. M. During the time of Bonaparte it contained sev- eral prisoners ; but now the donjon tower is used as a depot for gunpowder, and the rest of the palace is converted into a manufactory for porcelain. The most interesting thing to me at Vincennes would be the old oak, which is still standing, under which St. Louis used to sit to hear the petitions of the poor. Ricliard. Pray, mamma, will you be so kind as to ex- plain what sort of thmg the jubUee was which pope Boniface ordered to be celebrated once every hundred years ? Mrs. M. It was a plenary indulgence, or in other Avords, it was a full pardon of sins to all persons who should in this appointed year make a pilgrimage to Rome. The concourse of pilgrims to the first jubilee was so great, that it was called the golden year. The period was afterward short- ened to fifty years by pope Clement VI., who lived in 1350, and who was wilhng to come in for one of these golden harvests. Later popes have, for the same reason, found it convenient to shorten the period to twenty-five years ; giving as a reason, that, by this change, every person may reason- ably hope to enjoy the benefit of the jubilee at least once in their lives. George. Are there any jubilees at Home now ? Mrs. M. One was celebrated in 1825, but it was a great failing off from the jubilees of old times, being attended by only seventy-two pilgrims. Mary. And what did they do when they got to Bome ? Mrs. M. They received their plenary indulgences from the pope, Leo XII., and afterward went in procession to hear mass in St. Peter's church. When they returned, they dined in one of the halls of the Vatican with his holiness, who helped them with his own hands, and dmed with them at the same table. George. That would be a very comfortable way of get- ting absolved of our sins, if we could but make our consciencea keep quiet. Mrs M. In former days, when people were very ignorant, 1»2 PHILIP VI Cha,' XVIII and consequently very superstitious, ;here were various corH' fortable ways of getting absolution for sin. Some people, who w^ere rich and could afibrd it, allowed their confessors an annual stipend to absolve them from all their sins for the year. Richard. I should like to know whether these stipends were paid beforehand. Mrs. M. Some people, instead of buying absolution bj the year, thought it better to try the efficacy of a rod, and used to undergo regular castigations from the hands of their confessors. St. Louis, who followed very rigorously the superstitious ob- servances of his times, always kept a rod by him, and used to appiy it to his own person as occasion ofiered, or as he thought he deserved it. CHAPTEE. XVIII, PHILIP VI. OF VALOIS, SURNAMED THE FORTUNATE. [Years after Christ, 1328 -1350.J JOHH DK MONTFORD AND HIS CoUNTESS. CbaRLBS DK BloML I HAVE already told you in the last chapter, that on the leaih of Charles llie Fair, his cousin Phihp, count of Valois A.D. 1328 J PHILIP VI. lD!i was appointed regent. When the queen-dowager' a expected child proved a daughter, Phihp was declared king by the peers and the states-general. He was crowned at Rheims, in the thirty-fifth year of his age ; and from the circumsta.nces of hia thus obtaining a crown, was called the Fortunate. But few monarchs, as you will see in the sequel, have less merited that epithet. He was impetuous, rash, selfish, and. of a suspicious temper. He was, however, a man of great personal bravery, d,nd this appears to have been his only merit. Edward III. of England, whose mother, you Imow, was daughter of Philip the Fair, pretended to claim through her a right to the crown of France, contending that although, ac- cording to the Salic law, a woman could not inherit tho crown, she might yet transmit a right to it to her son. He, however, dissembled for a time his ambitious designs and appeared to acquiesce in Philip's claim, by doing homage to him for Guienne. But still he never lost sight of this his tavorite project, and long before he could execute it, began se- cretly to lay his measures. He collected a great quantity of warlike stores, and formed alliances with John de Montford, duke of Bretagne, and wdth the Flemings. Both the Flem- ings and de Montford were at that time at war with France, Philip having espoused the cause of the earl of Flanders, against whom his subjects had rebelled, and also that of Charles de Blois, who had married the daughter of an elder brother of de Montford, and disputed with him the possession of the duchy of Bretagne. In 1 33 G Edward openly set himself to prosecute his claim to the French crown. He prevailed on his allies, the Flem- ings, to proclaim him king of France, and swear fealty to him. On this occasion also he assumed the arms of France, three fleurs-de-lis, and quartered them with the arms of Eng- land, on his seal and shield. They continued to form part of the royal arms of England till the folly of assuming them was at length abandoned in the reign of George III. Philip assembled a great fleet, which sailed up and down the Chamrel, and did great mischief to the English commerce It was encountered by the English fleet off" Sluys, and a des perate battle was fought, in which the French were defeated In 1342 a truce was agreed upon between the two kinga, and Pliilip proclaimed a tournament at Paris, with the hope of drawing there several Breton noblemen, whom he suspected of favoring the cause of Edward. When he had succeeded ui getting them into his power, he caused them to be behead- I ■194 iHlLlP VI (CiiAP XVli; ea, without either trial or sentence— an act of injustice arJ wickedness, of which, during the remainder of his life, he had ample reason to repent. "In this manner, says Mezerai^ ■' did this too severe and revengeful king alienate the affec- tions of his nobles, who, in consequence, served him hut ill in his hour of need. ' Edward, regarding the death of the Breton nohles as an infraction of the truce, immediately renewed the war. lis sent the earl of Derby to attack the dominions of Philip on the side of Guienne, while he himself landed on the coast of Normandy with about 40,000 men. Meeting with no opposition, he marched through the comitry almost to the gates of Paris, destroying and pillaging every where by the way. Edward's army was not sufficiently numerous to allow him to penetrate far into France for any considerable length oi time, and he soon retired toward Ponthieu with the intentioj of joining the Flemings, having first defied Philip to singl*. combat. This defiance, however, Philip did not accept Having summoned all the vassals of his kingdom, and assem bled a immerous army, he pursued Edward with all haste burning with resentment toward that audacious monarch who had thus braved him even at the walls of his capital. When he arrived near the mouth of the Somme, he learneo that the English were encamped on the plain of Cressy.* Philip was so impatient to be revenged on the English, that he was with difficulty prevailed on to give his weariea eoldiers a night's rest at Abbeville. His army was so nu- merous that he could with ease have surrounded the English camp, and starved it into a surrender ; but he rejected with disdain the advice given him that he should do so, and the next morning, the 26th of August, 1346, he sounded his trumpets, and set forward to battle. Abbeville is five miles from Cressy, and Philip urged on his troops with such incon- venient speed that, when they arrived in sight of the enemy, they were heated, out of breath, and in disorder ; while the English were seated on the ground, in order of battle, tran- quilly waiting their approach. At sight of the French army the English sprang up and made ready their arms. When Philip saw this formidable and prepared phalanx, he gave orders that the horsemen should halt, and that the archers, who were Genoese mercenaries, should advance to the front. But there was no discipline or subordination The " North of Abbeville, near the moi th of the Somme. A.D. 1346.] PHILIP VI. 195 horsemen wciild not obey the order, and the lung's brother, the duke of Alencon, declared the Genoese unworthy to have the post of honor. The offended Genoese would not reUnquish their ground, and forgetting that they were in the face of the enemy, they and the horsemen began to fight with one an^ other. During their contention a violent shower of rain fell. The English, cool and collected, put their bows into their cases, but the Genoese were too much disordered to take that precaution. The consequence was, that when order was re- stored, and the archers were commanded to commence the attack, they found their bow-strings spoiled by the rain, and that the arrows fell short of their mark. The duke of Alen con observing this, and being inflamed with passion, believed \t to be done with design ; and calling out " Treason, trea- son !" commanded his men to ride over the Genoese, and drive them off the field. The rout being thus begun by the French themselves, there was an end of all order and command in the whole army. Each man pressing forward, they overset one another ; and those who were down could not rise because of the press. The English, meanwliile, stood firmly together, and discharged such thick and steady flights of arrows, that they made a dreadful havoc. The battle began at four in the afternoon, and raged till ten at night, when 40,000 French were left dead upon the field. Among them was the king of Bohemia. M^ho, though blind, had still desired to be conducted into thf battle, that he might "strike one stroke against the enemy." He was led by two of his nobles, who, tying the reins of hia horse's bridle to the bridles of their own, galloped, with him between them, into the midst of the combat. Their three bodies were found with their horses tied together, and a small stone cross still marks the spot where they fell. Philip, although he saw the battle was lost, would not quit the field till he was forced from it, by his attendants, and then, riding under cover of the darkness, he reached the walls of a neighboring town, and demanded to have the gates opened to him. The governor refused to admit him till he knew who he was, not imagining it could be the king, who was arrived like a fugitive ; but when Philip replied, that " he was the fortmies of France," the gates were immediately opened tt> him. But he could scarcely make his way through the nurn bers of people who came flocking about him, weeping and bfc wailing in so distressful a manner, that he was obliged to try to console them a!) bnst he could. The next day the English IStV rWILIP VI. LCHiP. XMIl •tontinued the j ursuit of their flying enemy, and it is said thai the slaughter exceeded that of the day preceding. Edward's next enterprise was to besiege Calais, which wag at last reduced by famine, and surrendered August 29, 1347, after a siege of eleven months. Edward turned out all the inhabitants, and peopled the town with his own subjects. Phihp recompensed the brave citizens, as well as he could, for the fortitude and loyalty they had displayed during the siege Soon after this, a dreadful pestilence, which equaUy deso la ted both England and France, made the two raonarchs de- sirous of peace. Edward, however, retained Calais, as well as several places which the earl of Derby had gained in Guienne. In 1350, Phihp was seized with a violent illness, which soon terminated his life, in the fifty-seventh year of his age, and the twenty-third of his reign. lie was twice married : by his first wife, Jane of Burgundy, he had two sons and a daughter : — (1.) John, duke of Normandy, who succeeded his father; (2.) Philip, duke of Orleans ; (3.) Mary, duchess of Brabant. Phihp's second wife was Blanch, grand-daughter of Louis X. of Navarre : by her he had Jane, who was a posthumous cliild. In the latter end of this reign, the dauphin of Vienne hav- ing caused the death of his only chUd by letting him fall out of a window, was so inconsolable for liis misfortune, that he retired from the world into a monastery, and sold his territo- ries to Phdip, on condition that the eldest son of the kings of France should, in future, bear the title of dauphin. Philip purchased Roussillon and Cerdagne, with the town of MontpelUer, of the king of Aragon. He inherited Maine and Anjou from liis mother, who was a daughter of Charles the Lame, king of Naples. The dominions of the crown of France acquired thus an extension which compensated for its losses in the wars with England. The people during this reign were greatly distressed by im- posts and taxes, more particularly by a tax called Gabelle, the levying of which occasioned great discontents. The province of Bretagne was in a very disturbed state during the greater part of this reign. John de Montford fell into the hands of the king, who imprisoned him in the Lou- vre. During his imprisonment his wife, Margaret of Flan- ders, a woman of a masculine spirit, took upon herself tho direction of aflairs. She sent her young son lor safety to Cos v.] PHILIP VL IJW England , and clothing herself in armor, and mounting a war-horse, she was, as Froissart says, " as good as a man.'' She was, nevertheless, driven from all her strong holds, ex cepting the little town of Hennehon,* where she shut herself up, and awaited succors from England. The succors, though promised, were long in coming, and the countess hegan to de- spair ; but before she could determine to surrender, she mount- ed a high tower, and took one more look at the sea. There she saw some distant sails which proved to be those of a fleet from England, under the command of Sir Walter Manny, who, landing with his troops, beat off' the enemy, and deliv- ered the countess from peril. She met Sir Walter as he en- tered the town, and (I use the words of the chronicle) " kissed him and his captains like a brave and valiant lady as she was." After several ti"uces and renewals of war between the par ties of de Montford and Blois, the former died in 1345 ; and the latter was, in 1347, taken prisoner, with his two sons. His wife, who was both courageous and ambitious, collected the scattered forces of her friends, and supported her hus- band's party against the countess de Montford. But although thus the war was still carried on between these two female warriors, nothing decisive was done. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XVIH. Kicliard. What kind of tax was the Gabelle ? Mrs. Markham. The mere word itself signifies any kind of tax or rent, but in the French history it commonly means a tax on salt, which was the more oppressive, because it be- came at last a monopoly. Richard. How was it made a monopoly ? Mrs. M. All the salt that was made in France was brought to the royal warehouses, and was from thence sold to the people at whatever price the king and his ministers chose to fix : and as salt may be considered one of the necessaries of life, this tax was feit by every description of persons. George. I don't call that so much a tax as a cheat. liiciiard. And did all the kings of France keep on selling salt? Near L'Oriont. on the southern coast of Bretaime. 198 PHILIP VI. [(-^HAp. XVIIl Mrs. M. In all the latter reig^.s tlie Gabelle, as well as all the othci taxes in France, was farmed. Mary. Farm a tax I mamma, that is very puzzling. Mrs. M. To farm a tax is to pay so much to the king foi the privilege of receiving all the money collected by it. I be- lieve the French farmers of taxes made very good bargains ; for they commonly became very rich, and, in consequence, were very obnoxious to the poor, who looked upon their wealth as taken from their own pockets. Ricliard. But was not some of it taken from the pockets of the rich ? Mrs. M. Not from those of the nobles ; for they were ex- empted from taxation, which made it fall doubly heavy upon the lower orders. I must not omit to tell you a wittici^ which is recorded of our king Edward III. You know that ml is Latin for salt, and when he heard that Philip had levied a tax on salt, he called him the inventor of the Salic law. George. I suppose that dreadful pestilence you just now mentioned was the same you spoke of in your other history, and which I remember you said was called the black death. Mrs. M. You are quite right. This dreadful disorder first made its appearance in the year 1346, in the kingdom of Cathay, the ancient name of China. By degrees it spread over all the then known world, visiting first Constantinople. Egypt, and Greece. From thence it passed over into Eu- rope, and traveled northward, till, in 1348, it reached France Mary. And did the people of one country begin to be ill as soon as those of another got well ; or were they all ill to gether ? Mrs. M. The disorder seemed to quit oiie countiy as soon as it reached another, and to make a very regular progress. It commonly lasted about five months in each. The people in general, believing that all medicines were vain, took no precautions, either to abate its violence or to prevent in- fection. George. Then hov/ was it ever stopped ? Mrs. M. It only stopped on the borders of the Frozen Sea. In Russia it carried off the whole of the royal family. There is one circumstance relative to this black death so very extraordinary that I can not forbear relating it, although it has nothing to do with the history of France. You know that, a great many centuries ago, a colony from Denmark in- habited a part of the caast of West Greenlard. They built > . , i'HILIP VI. VJU nouses j«.A I cfiurclies, and even had a bishop. Tht country was, howevwr, very unproductive, and the colcmy was annu- ally supplied with necessaries from Denmark. But in the year 1349 the pestilence caused so great a mortality among the Danish seamen, that none survived who were acquainted with the navigation to West Greenland. The colony was therefore deprived of its usual resources. Mary. What became of the poor creatures ? Mrs. M. No one knows. West Greenland, ever since that time, has never been visited by Europeans. We are even ignorant whether or not there are any existing descend- ants of the Danish settlers. George. Why don't some of our sailors go and see ; there is no black death now to prevent them. Mrs. M. But there are now as great difhculties to over- come. An insurmountable barrier of ice has formed along the coast, which prevents all access to it. Many attempts have at different times been made to reach the ancient settle- ment. In the reign of queen Ehzabeth, our famous navigator, Frobisher, was sent with a squadron for that purpose, but aU in vain ; neither he, nor any subsequent navigator, has been able to approach the shore, and our sailors can only see, or fancy they see, beyond the barrier of impassable ice, a long line of coast, on which they think they can perceive some- thing like the ruins of buildings. George. If I were they, I would go to the other side, to' East Greenland, and would get to the western shores over land. Mis. 31. That has also been attempted. A king of Denmark, in the early part of the last century, sent out an expedition, provided with horses and sledges, to explore the country between the two shores ; but when the expedition got a short way into the interior, they found that the country, as far as could be seen, presented nothing but an immense plain of ice, intersected by impassable chasms, and that it was ut- terly impossible to proceed. George. O ! if I had but wings, you should soon know what was become of those Danes in West Greenland. But this is talking nonsense ; so, if you please, mamma, we had Dest go back to France. RicJiard. Pray, mamma, are the French well oft' in his- tories of their own country ? Mrs. M. They have, I believe, a great many more than my limited information can tell you of. I btJieve that one 21,0 THILIP VI Chap. XVIli 9f the best is that by Velly, with a continuation by VillaiBt jL have been exceedingly entertained and instructed by a liis- tory, not yet completed, written by M. Sismondi, a very dis* tinguished author. I confess also I have a great liking foi old Mezerai, a very naif and honest-hearted historian, and who has the merit with me of not being too philosophical. Riclmrd. And when did this unphilosophical old gentle man live ? Mrs. M. He lived in the time of Louis XIV., and many whimsical anecdotes are related of him. It was one of his fancies always to sit by candlelight even in the lightest and brightest days in summer. He also loved singularity in his dress, and often wore very shabby clothes. Once, when he was traveling, his carriage broke down ; he left his servants to get it repaired, and walked on alone to the nearest town. Here his dress exciting observation, he was about to be taken ap as a vagrant. He was highly diverted at the mistake, and only very civilly requested of the people who were going to take him before the magistrate, that they would be so obhging as to wait till his equipage should arrive. George. I think they would take him for a madman. Mrs. M. Luckily the arrival of the carriage finished the adventure. Richard. Have you not a history of France also by a M. Henault ? Mrs. M. Henault was president of the chamber of re- quests in Paris, and during a long life enjoyed the highest reputation for virtue and wisdom. He was forty years ii writing his short chronological abridgement of French liis tory. George. It must be owned that the good man did not hurry himself. Mrs. M. He verified the old saying of " slow and sure ;" and though his history, if we may call it so, is not lively, it may yet be rehed on for its accuracy. That is more than can be said for a history by Father Daniel, which is said to contain ten thousand blunders. Richard. I think it must have required some patience to count them. Mis. M. When Daniel was writing his history, the king's librarian sent him a great mass of valuable records and royal letters, thinking that they would be useful to him , but he sent them all back, saymg that he had no patience to look over them, and that he was sure he could m.ike a von CoNV.l PHILIP VI 20i readable liisto/y without plaguing himself with such papei rubbish. Mary. Ah, mamma., if you could get some of that paper rubbish, how many entertaining, and I dare say curious sto> ries you would find for us ! Mrs. M. I have no doubt but that I shall still be able to find for you many entertaining stories. French literature is singularly rich in private memoirs, which often give us more insight than graver histories into the manners, customs, and ways of thinking, in the different periods in which they were written. Ricliard. I don't think there is any thing more curious in history than the change of opinion. One should think that right and wrong must be always the same, and yet how dif- ferently people think of it ! Mrs. M. The change of opinion may generally be traced to the progress of knowledge ; the more the human under- standing is cultivated, the more it is enlarged, and the bettei able to discern good from evil. A Crosbbow-Man. Aon on (di picture of th« battle of Cnesy I* CHAPTER XIX. JOHN, SUENAMED THE GOOD [Years after Christ 1350-13(j4,] Kino John. The Earl or Alenjon, killed at CRKsar John, who was forty years of age when he ascended the throne, had already had great experience in mihtary affairs, and had, on several occasions, shown an extraordinary degree of personal bravery. It is prohable that to this quality, at all times so captivating to the French people, he owed his sur- name of " the Good ;" for he does not seem to have been any otherwise entitled to it. He was passionate and vindictive, and by his impetuosity and willfulness brought his kingdom to the verge of ruin. It might indeed by said of him that ho was frank and honorable ; but his honor was a mere high- flown, chivalrous principle, and not that true honor which is iust as well as generous. John began his reign with an act of flagrant injustice lie put the constable d'Eu and some other nobles to death, on lt;3 bare suspicion that they had intelligence v/itli the En- glisn. He then conferred the ofiice of constable, with the earldom of Angouleme, on one of his favorites. This act brought upon him the resentment of the king of Navarre A D. 135G.] JOHN 203 who W£is indignant that the earldom was not bestowed on himself. Charles, king of Navarre, was the son of Philip d'Evreux, and of Jane, queen of Navarre, daughter of Louis X. He inherited from his father very considerable territories in Nor- mandy, and but for the Salic law, which had excluded his mother from the throne, would have been king of France. His sister had married, the late king, and he was himself mar- ried to one of the daughters of the reigning monarch. His youth had been chiefly spent in the French court, and he was distinguished above all the princes of his time for his courtly address, and for his excellence in all knightly accomplish- ments. He was bold, liberal, and eloquent ; quahties, as Me zerai observes, which are admirable when joined to virtue, but which are pernicious when they accompany a bad heart, as they increase the means of doing harm. It seemed, indeed, as if this was the only use , which Charles made of his fine qualities ; for he was cruel, unforgiving, and artful, to the last degree. He seemed, to love wickedness for its own sake, and was deservedly distinguished by the name of Charles the Bad. Not long after the new constable had been invested in his office, he was murdered in his bed by orders of the king of Navarre, who took no pains to conceal his crime, but, on the contrary, boasted of it openly. Charles was cited before the peers of France to answer for the murder ; but Jolin wanted either the courage or the power to punish him openly. He therefore had recourse to artifice. A grand entertainment was given at Rouen,* in 1356, on the king's eldest son being invested with the duchy of Normandy. Charles the Bad was invited, and John entered the castle with some armed men, who seized on Charles and his attendants as they were sitting at table. Charles was closely confined in chateau Gaillard,| and some of his attendants were put to death. I told you, at the close of the last reign, that one of the last acts of Phihp of Valois was to conclude a truce with England, if truce it could be called, for there still subsisted a kind of warfare between the soldiers of each nation, who were per- petually engaged in trials at arms with one another. The inhabitants of every town and village were obliged to keep themselves well defended and constantly upon the watch, that tbev might protect themselves from the attack of the twc * In the eastern part of Normandy. \ See page 62. 20'4 JOHN. i Chap. XIX contending paitios, and also from the numbers oi" disbanied soldiers, who had enlisted in bands and called themselves free companies, roving about the country, owning no masters but their own captams, and committing dreadful devastations wherever they came. These people even threatened the town of Avignon, and the pope was obliged to purchase his safety with a large sura of money. The truce with England, such as it was, lasted tiU 1356. Edward construed the imprisonment of Charles of Navarre into an infringement of it, and the war, which had been but lU-smothered, again broke out. Edward the Black Prince, eldest son of the king of England, had the year before been invested by liis father with the duchy of Guienne.* Not content to keep within the hmits of his own duchy, he invad- ed John's territories, and overran the neighboring country. John hastily assembled a numerous army, and came up with the Black Prince near Poitiers.f The prince, seeing his retreat cut off, and that the French army was more than twice his own numbers, was willing to surrender on any hon- orable conditions; but John would agree to nothing but an imconditional surrender. The Black Prince, therefore, re- solved to defend himself to the last moment, and encamped his little army on the most advantageous spot he could find. This was a small plain, surrounded, except on one side, by vineyards and thick hedges. The prince, having hastily thrown up some ditches and trenches to strengthen the na- tural defenses of his position, quietly awaited the approach of the enemy. The French king was eager to commence the attack ; but the pope's legate, cardinal Perigord, who was in the French camp, was very anxious to prevent the effusion of blood. The armies came in sight of one another on Satur- day, September 17, 1356; and the whole of the Sunday the cardinal was occupied in riding from one camp to the other, endeavormg to persuade each party to consent to reasonable terms. But John remained willfully bent to exact an entire submission on the part of the prince, and Edward would agree to nothing that he thought would compromise his honor. John, blinded by passion, insisted on an immediate battle : but the day being by that time far advanced, he was at last persuaded to remain in his quarters till the morning. Early the next day the two armies made themselves ready for battle. The French were in three divisions. la the first * In the southwestern part of Frame. + In the proviiK-e ofPoitou, north &^ Guienne. t356.] JOHN. % i were the king's three eldest sons, the liauphm, th ? duke of Anjou, and the duke of Berri. The se(!ond was commanded by the duke of Orleans. The king, with .iiis youngest and favorite son Philip, were in the third. John gave orders that the attack should be begun by three hundred chosen horse- men, and that all the rest of the cavalry, with the exception of some German troops, should be dismounted. This order occasioned great confusion. Each horseman wanted to be one of the chosen number. Those who could not be of that number were dissatisfied ; and ths time that should have been spent in disposing the men in order of battle was passed in disputes and squabbles. At last order was restored, and the attack commenced. The three hundred chosen horsemen led the van, followed by the Germans ; but in attempting to push through the vine- yards which surrounded the English intrenchments, they found themselves entangled among the trees. Their horses were rendered unmanageable by the arrows poured on them by the English archers, and turned round, overthrowing the German cavalry in their rear. This movement had something the appearance of a repulse, and, either from over-caution or cow ardice, the officers who had the care of the dauphin and his brothel s, withdrew with the three young princes from the field. Their flight spread an alarm throughout the army, and the whole of the first and second divisions followed them, without having even faced the enemy. The king's divisional one remained, but this was superior in numbers to the whole English army, and John still continued confident of victory. tie did not want either for bravery or skill, and manfully ex- erted both, remaining in the field, notwithstanding his being twice wounded in the face, till the close of the day. His youngest son, Philip, fought by his side, and would not be per- (^uaded to leave his father. At last John foimd that his troops had given way on every side, and that the field was lost. He saw himself entirely surrounded by the enemy, and observing among them a knight of Artois, named De Morbec, who, being an outlaw, had en- listed in the English army, he surrendered himself to him. The English soldiers disputed the prize with De Morbec, and while they were contending, the earl of Warwick arrived with orders from the Black Prince to conduct John and his young son, who had surrendered vrith him, to his tent. The prince 'eceived his royal captives with the greatest court«-3y and re- snect. During supper he waited upon the king as if he had 806 JOH> [Chaf. XIX *ieeii ilia own father ; and seeing him sad and heavy, he soughl to cheer him bj" consoHng words. He said to him, " Although, aohle sir, it was not God's will that you shcjuld win the day; vet yotiL singly have wcin the prize of valor, since it was appa rent to every Englishman that none bore himself so bravely as you." The prince conveyed his prisoners the next day to Bor- deaux, where they remained till the following spring, when they were conducted to England, and were there received by Edward and his queen Philippa with every demonstration of respect. The palace of the Savoy, in London, was allotted to the French king for his residence ; and during the four years he remained in England he was treated more like a guest than a prisoner. In the mean time France was plunged in the greatest mis ery. The dauphin took upon himself the management of affairs. He was a young man of great talents and activity, but was too young and inexperienced to be able to govern the country at such a juncture. He was guided and misled by evil coimselors, and endeavored to keep the people tranquil by making promises, which he did not perform, of redressing their grievances. He thus forfeited their confidence, and pre- pared for himself a long train of difficulties and troubles. In deed the condition of the country was such, that it would have been scarcely possible even for the most wise and able man to stem the torrent of evil which was flowing in from all sources. The nobles, instead of lending their help to the exigencies of the state, were only thinking how they might avail themselves of the feebleness of the government to further their own pri- vate interests. They endeavored to deprive the enfranchised peasants of their newly acquired rights, and to restore them again to a state of feudal slavery. It is scarcely to be believed what cruelties and violences these arrogant oppressors wera guilty of. They pillaged the peasants without mercy, burned their dwelhngs, and drove them like wild beasts to seek shelter in caverns and for/^rts. But these wicked violences prepared their own punishment. A worm, when trod on, will turn again. Some peasants in Beauvoisis were talking over their g^ ievances, and they agreed among themselves that it would be a, justifiable deed to exter- minate the whole race of the nobiUty and gentry. The word was no sooner given than taken : they seized on scythes, pitch- forks, and whatever they could first lay hold of, and, rushing io tlie nearest g^intleman's house, they murdered all the in- \ D. 1353.] JOHN ZO'i habitants, and set fire to the house. With hourly increasing numbers they proceeded onward, destroying and slaughtering wherever they came. The panic of the gentry was extreme ; all who could, fled to the nearest fortified town. This insur- rection, which was called the Jacquerie, spread with frightful rapidity, and it was impossible to foresee where it would end ; for no one of the higher orders could consider himself joi a mo- ment safe, since he knew not how soon his own servants might turn against him. Every one, however, saw that something must be done, and that speedily ; the difference of party and of country was for- gotten, and the English and the French all united against the Jacquerie. Even the king of Navarre, who had escaped from his prison, united with the dauphin in this emergency, and the insurrection was soon quelled. Thus were the provinces restored to comparative tranquil- lity, but the government was by no means settled. Charles of Navarre laid claim to the crown, and Paris was in a con- tinual tumult. There was at that time in the city a man of the name of Marcel ; he was the provost of the merchants, an office which, in some respects, resembled that of the lord- mayor of London. Marcel at first affected a great desire to serve his fellow-citizens, and to protect their liberties ; but he soon declared himself a strenuous partisan of the king of Na varre. In 1358 the dauphin was appointed regent. In the prov inces he was able to support his authority ; but in Paris Mar- eel had raised so strong a party in favor of the king of Navarre, that the dauphin was several times obliged to abandon the city. The contentions between Charles and him make the history of this period extremely tedious. Charles, who was very eloquent, would frequently harangue the mob from a raised platform. The dauphin would do the same. Neither party, however, confined itself entirely to a war of words ; they both frequently proceeded to violence. Marcel one day entered the palace of the dauphin, and murdered two of his servants before his face. He justified himself by sayir.g that these men had given the dauphin bad advice ; he then snatched the cap, or harrette, from the prince's head, to put upon his cwn, and made him wear a parti-colored hood of red and blue, which was the badge of Navarre. The dauphin found himself ob'ijred to submit, for the time, to the insolence of Marcel, but he took the first opportunity of escaping from Paris. A.t the commencement of the disturbances Marcel, und^ii 808 »OHN. [Chap. XIX pretext of securing, the city front the attacks of the free com panies, had repaired and strengthened the fortifications, and planted cannon on the walls. For some time he continued steady to the king of Navarre's party, but afterward becoming displeased with him, he entered into secret intelligence with the English, and took measures for betraying the city to theiu. His intentions, however, were suspected by some of his fellow- citizens, and one of them, named John Maillard, seeing him going slyly toward one of the city gates at midnight, accused him of an intention to open them to the enemy. A tumult arose, in which Marcel was slain, and the keys of the gate were found concealed under his cloak. On Marcel's death the party of the king of Navarre declined, the parti-coloured hoods were thrown away, tranquiUity was restored, and on August 24, 1358, the dauphin once mors took possession of Paris. The king of Navarre was more exasperated than discouic- aged by the turn his affairs had taken. He blockaded Paris by land and water, and cut off all its supphes ; he vowed tha*: he would never have peace with the princes of the house of Valois, and the dauphin found himself in the utmost distress and difficulty. He had no money, and was obliged to have recourse to the same sort of leather money which had formerly been used in the time of Henry I. In addition to all the other calamities with which Paris was now afflicted, that of famine was beginning to be severely felt, and it seemed as if Charles the Bad would soon effect the ruin, not only of Paris, but of the whole kingdom ; when suddenly his mind changed, and from some cause, which historians and pohticians have vainly tried to discover, he made peace with the dauphin, withdrew the blockade of Paris, and relinquished all pretensions to the crown of France. The dauphin beiig now more his own master than he had ever yet been, was able to take measures for his father's re- lease ; but Edward's terms were severe ; the states-general were firm in their rejection of them, and nothing could at first be done. Edward, with a view to enforce compliance with his demands, entered France with a numerous army, and marched through the country till he came to Montlheri, where he encamped. The dauphin, profiting by the experience of former disasters, avoided coming to a pitched battle. He left all the country open, but placed strong garrisons in the towns, and strongly defended himself in Paris. Edward in vain at- tempted to provoke him to come to an engagement. In vain A.U. 1360.: JOHN. 20i did Sir Walter Manny, and other daring -warriors, ride a tilt against the harriers of Paris ; the dauphin kept himself shui up within his walls, nor would he suffer any of his knights to answer the insults of the English. He, nevertheless, kept a watchful lookout upon them ; and even the convent hells were not allowed to he rung for midnight prayers, as was customary, lest the watchmen should he preve'nted from hearing the movements of the enemy. Edward at last broke up his camp, and advanced toward Chartres,* still meeting no opposition, and amusing himself with his hawks and hounds, as if he had come to hunt, and not to fight. During his progress he was continually follow- ed by commissioners from the dauphin and the states-general, importuning him to agree to a peace on terms which they could accept. But the English king would agree to no terms whatever ; he considered the whole kingdom as within his grasp, and nothing but being it"^ monarch would now consent him. But God, " in whose rule and governance are tht hearts of princes," turned the heart of this ambitious king. A more violent storm than had been before known in the memory of man overtook the Enghsh army, as it approaf^hed the village of Bretigny, near Chartres. The thunder and lightning were tremendous, and were accompanied by hail of such extraordinary size, that six thousand of the English horses are said to have been killed by it, and several of the soldiers severely hurt. The king was so much impressed by the awfulness of this circumstance, that he considered it as a warning from heaven not to harden himself any longei against "the prayers of France." He immediately entered into a treaty with the dauphin, which, after a great many preliminaries, was at last concluded in 1360, and is called the treaty of Bretigny. Edward demanded three millions of gold crowns for John's ransom, which the states, on condition of certain iramimities from their king, agreed to give. It was to be paid at three installments ; and at the first payment Edward promised to set John at liberty, on receiving, as hostages, the king's three youngest sons, with the duke of Orleans, and thirty Fiench uoblemen, to guarantee the payment cif the remainder. Ed- ward agreed, on his part, to withdraw his pretensions to the crown of France, retaining, however, CalaiS; and all his son's late conquests in Guienne. In October, 1360, John again entered France, after a * Southwest of Paris- «10 .Offii. LCuAP. )CIX captivity of four years. The people seemed to have Ibrgol all their past sufferings, and when the king made his public entry into Paris, he was received with every demonstration of joy. John was scarcely restored to his kingdom, when he hegan to form plans for a crusade to the Holy Land. He was, liowever, interrupted in this scheme by the misconduct of his sons, the dukes of Anjou and of Berri. These two princes, with the other royal hostages, had been received by Edward with the greatest courtesy and kindness. The town of Calais had been assigned them as their prison, if prison it could be called, when they were allowed the permission of going wherever they pleased, provided they returned to Calais every fourth day. But even this was considered by the two young princes as too severe a restraint. They came to Paris, and refused to return. John was exceedingly distressed at this conduct of his sons. He regarded it as a breach of his own honor, which could only be redeemed by his going and sur- rendering himself again as a prisoner to Edward. He accord- ingly returned to England. Soon afterward he fell ill of a languishing disorder, and died at the palace of the Savoy, April 8, 1364. The king of England gave him a magnifi- cent and royal funeral. His body was afterward removed to France, and interred in the abbey of St. Denis. John was twice married : first to Bona, daughter of the blind king of Bohemia ; and, secondly, to Jane of Boulogne, widow of the duke of Burgundy. By Bona he had four sons ind four daughters : (1.) Charles, who succeeded his father. (2.) Louis, duke of Anjou. (3.) John, duke of Berri. (4.) Philip, duke of Burgundy. (5.) Maria, duchess of Bar. (6.) Jane, married Charles the Bad. (7.) Isabella, married John Visconti, first duke of Milan. (8.) Margaret, a nun. John's second wife had one son by her former Tnaarriage, memory in the abbey of St. Denis, and placed on it a lamp which was kept burning for many centuries. Du Guescliu with his dying words exhorted his soldiers never to forgel what he had so often told them, that in whatever countrj * In fbe south part of France. A.D. 1377.J OHAELES V. SI« they should have to carry on war, they should never con- eider the clergy, the women, children, or the poor, as their enemies Thb Constable Dn Guesclin. When Du Guesclin was dead, many of his captains refused the office of constable, a^ deeming themselv(/s unworthy to succeed him ; at last it was accepted by Ohver du Clisson. The affairs of the English in France rapidly declined from this time, and Edward had the mortification of beholding his boasted conquests gradually fall from his grasp. This, added to his affliction at the death of his incomparable son, embit- tered his latter days, and probably shortened them. He -died in 1377, and during the feeble reign of his grandson, Richard II., the English lost every thing they had possessed in France excepting Calais, Cherburg, Bordeaux, and Bayonne.* I must now say something of the affairs of Bretagne. When last we spoke of them, the son of De Montford was still a chdd, and Charles de Blois was in captivity ; but in 1364, Charles had regained his liberty, the young De Mont ford was become a man, and the civil war W5is again renewed On the 20 th of September in that year (1364), Charles da Blois was killed in a battle which was fought near Auray,| * The two former on the northern, and the two latter on the westers coast. t Auray is near Vamies, on the western coast. 628 CHARLES V. [Cn.-..-'. XX and the king of France consented to acknov/.oa^c Do Mont* ford as duke of Bretagne. The king of Navarre, during all this time, never ceased showing his settled enmity to Charles. He carried his wick edness so far as to give him poison, and though the effect was checked by antidotes, yet it finally caused his death. In 1378 Charles of Navarre sent his eldest son to Paris, under the pretense of paying a visit of respect to the king his uncle, but in reality as a spy. He is also accused of haAring commissioned his son to give the king another and a stronger dose of poison. How far the accusation was true can not now be known ; it was, however, beheved at the time. The young prince of Navarre was put in prison, and two, of his attendants, who were supposed to be agents in the plot, wero beheaded. The king's health was declining for some years before hia death ; and his physicians declared that his life could only be preserved by keeping open an issue, and t'lat if it dried up he must assuredly die. In 1380 he received the fatal warning, the issue dried up, and could by no means be kept open. Charles prepared for death with the greatest fortitude. He made eveiy regulation that prudence could suggest for the security of his sons, who were very young, and of the king- dom, and awaited his final hour with piety and resignation. He died Sept. 16, 1380,* in the forty-fourth year of his age, and had reigned sixteen years. He married Jane of Bourbon, and left twa sons : (1.) Charles, who succeeded him. (2.) Louis, duke ol Orleans. Chailes the Wise left the royal cofiers well filled with treasure. He erected many stately buildings. He added greatly to the library founded by his father, which at his death had increased to nine hundred volumes, and was placed m one of the towers of the Louvre. Charles entered into a treaty of amity with the king cl Scotland ; and a guard of twenty-four natives of Scotland, which had been formed originally by St. Louis, was now aug- mented to a hundred, and was appointed to be always in at- tendance on the king. The king of Navarre survived his victim some years. His death, which took place in 1387, was occasioned by the care lessness of one of his attendants, who set fire to some band- ftges steeped in brandy, which the king wore about him oo * At the chateau de Beaute sur Maine Co.NV j CHARLES V. 2^1 account of some cutjuieous disorder. By this means he wai so dreadfully burned that he died in the greatest tortures. In this reign pope Gregory V. removed the papal see from Avignon to Rome. After the death of Gregory great con- fusion arose among the cardinals relative to electing a new pope. The schism lasted forty years. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XX. George. I think, mamma, it was very boasting of tn«3 French to say that they had the wisest king and the bravest general in Europe. Richard. I think the French would have been very un- grateful if they had not boasted of their king ; for I am sur& he was a very good king to them. Mrs. M. One of the things I admire in Charles was his exactitude in business ; a virtue which is quite as essential in a king as it is in a tradesman. Mary. Why, what sort of business could a king of Franco liave to attend to ? Mrs. M. The cares of government involve a great deal of business, such, for instance, as that of furnishing magazines, and providing means for supplying the wants of an army. These cares had usually been left to the ministers, but Charles took them upon himself ; and to his personal attention to them much of the success of his arms may be justly attributed. Geo7'ge. But I thought you said he never would let hia generals come to a battle. M7'S. M. He found that without a battle he could waste and diminish the strength of the English. He dreaded, from the experience of past misfortunes, to place the fortune of a wai upon a single blow ; and to prevent his generals from committing that error, he never would trust them with the command of a large army. His method was to divide the forces of his kingdom into five parts ; four of these were em- ployed under different leaders to harass the enemy in difierent places ; the fifth division he kept with himself, ready to push 'any advantage, or repair any loss that might accrue to the others. RiJiard. And I suppose that was the most politic plan, because it answered. Mrs. M. Charles was no les? exact and methodical in the manner of his private life than in the discharge of public af ?22 CHARLES V [Chap. XX faira. He rose early, and retired to rest early at night ; and during the day was constantly employed. When he had ended his morning devotions h*^ applied himself to the affairs of state. He dined at noon, and afterward took the exercise re- quisite for his health. Mary. Poor man ! what a shocking thing it must have been to him to know that he had swallowed poison, and to think that he might die any day. Mrs. M. That, my dear cliild, is nothing more than what we all ought to think ; for we none of us know the day nor the hour when we may be called hence. But I agree with you that the knowledge that he had been poisoned must have been a great trial of Charles's fortitude ; and it is among the things for which he is to be commended, that this knowledge did not paralyze his mind, nor deprive him of his energy. On the contrary, it made him the more earnest to employ to the best purpose every hour that remained to him. Expecting his death daily, he was the more anxious to provide against all the dangers to which his young son would be exposed. To this end he intrusted the queen with all his affairs of state, and gave her instructions for her conduct in case of his death \ but unfortunately for the young prince, and to the utter grief of the king, she died first. Mary. Was she a very fine character ? Mrs. M. She is highly spoken of by contemporary authors, and it is said that the king (an uncommon circumstance among crowned heads) had married her from pure affection, and for her sake had rejected the rich heiress of Flanders. Jane was a very graceful and accomplished woman, and the French court, during the reign of Charles V., was better regulated and more correct than it ever seems to have been at any for- mer time. Ridiard. I suppose, then, that all ladies had begun to be accomplished and graceful, and Uke what ladies are now. Mrs. M. I should suspect that they had not, in general, acquired much refinement ; at least I judge so by a French poem of which I have met with some account, and which was written about this period for the express benefit of the ladies. The poet's first exhortation to them is, that they should avoid pride, and return the salutations they receive — eveii those of the poDr people. He then recommends them, when they go to church, to walk in an orderly manner, and not to run and jump in the streets. He recommends them not to laugh and jest during mass, and adds that those who can read should Ji,sT.f CHAR:.ES v. 223 take their psalters, and those who can not would do well to learn the prayers by heart at home, that when they come to church th(jy may be able to keep pace with the priest. Mary. And does he tell them nothing more than how they are to behave at church ? Mrs. M. He says that ladies should be neat in their per- sons, and keep their nails cut short ; and that they should not laugh or talk too loud at dinner, nor daub their fingers with their food. He goes on to say, that when ladies walk in the streets they must not stop as they pass to look in at people's windows ; for this, he observes, is neither agreeable nor seemly. He says, that when they visit their friends, they ought not to bounce all at once into the room, but stop at the entrance, and announce their coming by a little gentle cough, or by speaking a few words. The poem winds up by a rec- ommendation to the ladies to forbear from stealing and telling lies. George. They must have been comical ladies in those days, to require teUing about such things as those. RicJtard. I should think that poem must have been writ- ten for the benefit of the ladies who dwelt in towns, and not for those fine stately dames who lived in castles. Mis. M. The gentlemen of those days came in for their share of blame as well as the ladies. Mary. What fault was to be found in them particularly ? Mrs. M. They are much ridiculed by the M^iters of the times for the absurdity of their dress. Among other things M'e are told that they adopted such an extraordinary fashion •n their boots that the king pubHshed an edict against it. Mary. Pray, mamma, what were these boots like. Mrs. M. They were intended to be like a bird : the front projected in a sharp point at the top in the shape of a beak, and the back of the heel was lengthened out, to look like a claw. I can not imagine any thing more ridiculous. Riducrd. Was the rest of the men's dress equally ridicu- lous ? Mrs. M. Dress, about this time, underwent, in Fj ance, a very remarkable change. Heretofore the nobles were clad in ong flowing robes, and they, and all persons of respectable station of middle life, wore long hoods, which hung down on the back ; but now these robes and hoods were left off^ if not universally, at least by the younger nobility, who, in place of the long robe, adopted a tight short jacket, which exposed to e'ievf the whole form of the lim.ljs 824 CHARLES VI. [Cbap. XXi Geai-ge. They must Have looked like 30 many postillions Mrs. M. These innovations did not come in all at once. A French writer in the reign of Phihp of Valois reproaches his countrymen with their dress, which he tells them makes them look like so many merry-andrews. He adds, that they are so fantastic in their modes, that they are always in one foohsh extreme or another ; sometimes their clothes, he says, are too long, at others too short ; at one time too tight, and at another too wide. George. I suspect the good gentleman was rather hard tc please. Mrs. M. He inveighs, above all, at their changeabieness, and complains, that the same fashion seldom lasted more than six years. CHAPTER XXI. CHA.E,LES VI., SURNAMED TEE WELL BELOVED [Years after Christ, 1380-1422. J Citizens of Fabis in the Keisn op Cbarlks Vf We are now come to the most disastrous psriod m tne whole long history of France. We shall see the fruits of tho late king's prudence and care totally destroyed ; we shall see the sovereign a miserable maniac ; the princes of the blood sacrificing their duty to the indulgence of their OAvn base pas sions ; and the nobles acting as if they partook in the madness of their, monarch, and the kingdom brought to the very vero^e of ruin. But I must relate all things in order. v330.1 CHARLES VI. i2i The young king was only thirteen years old when his father died. The duke of Anjou was appointed regent during hi« minority, hut the dukes of Berri and of Burgundy each de- sired to have a share in the government, and the jealousies and contentions among these three princes, who were all equally violent, selfish, and greedy of gain, were, as I may truly say, the b-eginning of troubles. The duke of Burgundy had the best abilities ; but the duke of Anjou was the most ambitious, and made no scruple of sacrificing the interest of France, and of his nephew, to forward his own private echemes. A short time before the late king's death, Joamia, queen of Naples, a descendant of Charles of Anjou, in order to re- venge herself on Charles Durazzo, her nearest relation, who had driven her from her throne, adopted the duke of Anjou as her heir. Durazzo was in possession of the kingdom of Na- ples, but the duke of Anjou, nevertheless, determined to assert the claim thus given him by Joanna. To this end he got possession of all the money which his brother, the late king, had left in the royal treasury ; together with a great quantity of gold and silver which was concealed in one of the palaces, and the secret of which had been confided to one of the king's old servants, from whom Anjou contrived to extort it. With this ill-gotten wealth the duke of Anjou raised an army and marched into Italy. He at first obtained some slight advantages ; but they were soon followed by fatal reverses. His army was destroyed, his baggage lost, and he was reduced to poverty and distress ; one small silver cup being all that remained to him of the immense quantity of gold and silver which he had brought from France. He did not long survive his misfortunes, and died in 1384 of vexation and disappointment. His son, however, still asserted his claim, and took on himself the title of Louis II., king of Na pies. In France, meantime, the duke of Burgundy had assumed the reins of power, and used them, as his brother had done, for his own purposes : he had married the heiress of the ear] of Flanders, and, in 1382, he engaged the young king in a war with the Flemings, to quell a,'.i insurrection they hacj raised against their earl. The French troops gained a gieat victory at Rosebec ; and Charles, who had accompanied hia army in person, was much elated at this his first success; in arms. On his return to Paris he found thai city in a state of tumult on account of the exorbitancy of Ih UiAes. The in- 1 CHARLES VI, [Chap. XXl SI aection was soon quelled, and the offenders punished with gi^at severity. Some were pubhcly executad, and oxhera were put in sacks and thrown into the river. in 1385 Charles married Isabella of Bavaria, a very beau- tiful prijicess, but of depraved manners. She brought much misery, not only to her husband, but to the whole kingdom. The young king's education had been entirely neglected , and his uncles had promoted his passing his time in frivolous amusements, that he might the less interfere vnth. their schemes of ambition. Although hasty and impetuous, he had many good qualities ; he was of an affectionate and obliging temper ; and it is related of him that he never forgot a kind- ness which he had received, nor broke a promise which he had made. He had a remarkable faciUty in remembering every person's face whom he had once seen ; and among other pecuharities, is noted for having possessed an extraordinary degree of bodily strength, and, it is said, could bend a horse- shoe with his hands. In 13SG the French government meditated an invasion of England ; but as France had at that time no navy, the re- quisite vessels were either purchased or hired from other coun- tries. They amounted to nine hundred when collected at Sluys. Every gentleman who prepared for this expedition was provided with an attendant, styled " a pillard," or, in other words, a robber, whose express business was to pillage for his master's benefit. One part of the equipage was an enormous wooden castle, which could be taken to pieces and put together again. But all these mighty preparations came to nothing, through the jealousy of the duke de Berri, who, though inferior in abilities to the duke of Burgundy, was yet equally ambitious, and took every opportunity to thwart and perplex his brother in all his measures. The ships were de- tained at Sluys till after the stormy season commenced, and the art of navigation being but ill understood, many of the vessels were wrecked. The wooden castle, which was a much vaunted invention, drifted to the mouth of the Thames, and became an easy spoil to the English mariners. In the following year a fleet was again assembled. I.'he men at arms were all prepared, and every thing was ready, when the expedition was a second time prevented from sail- ing. The duke of Bretagne, either from personal hatred to Oliver Du Clisson, who was to have commanded, or from a wish to serve his allies, the English, invited Du Clisson to pny him a friendly visit. When he had got him in his k.D. 1391- '■ CHARLES VI. 22/ power, lie madi him his prisoner. He detained him only a short time ; but in the mean while the men at aims dispersed themselves, and the intended invasion of England was given up. In 1388, the king, being of age, took the administration of affairs into his own hands. He deprived the duke of Bur- gundy of his offices, and bestowed them upon his own brother, the duke of Orleans. He recalled several of his father's old servants, and displaced the creatures of the dukes, his uncles. He revoked several unjust laws and oppressive taxes, and showed everv wish to rule his people with justice. This waa the period in which he obtained the surname of Well Beloved ; but this flattering promise did not last long. The constable Du Clisson was attacked in the streets of Paris by Peter de Craon, a man of infamous character, who, m the belief that he had killed his victim, fled for protection to the duke of Bretagne. Du Clisson, however, was only se verely wounded, and when he recovered called loudly for ven- geance on the assassin. The duke of Bretagne was required to give him up ; and on his refusal to do so, the king was exceedingly enraged, and resolved to march in person into Bretagne to punish its contumelious duke. He ordered his troops to rendezvous at Mans,* and repaired there himself early in the month of August, 139] . The impatience of his spirit had thrown him into a fever, and his attendants en- deavored to prevail on him to defer his march into Bretagne But he would not listen to them, and set forth, notwithstand ing the heat of the weather and his own indisposition. The way was dusty, and the king rode apart from his com pany, followed only by two pages, one of whom carried his lance and the other his helmet. Froissart tells us that the king's sufierings from the heat were greatly increased by his wearing a jerkin of thick velvet, and a heavy cap of scarlet cloth adorned with pearls. As he was riding by the side of a forest near Mans, suddenly a tall and ghastly man rushed out from among the trees, and seizing his bridle, exclaimed, " Stop, king I you are going where you are betrayed I" The figure then as suddenly disappeared. Charles M'as greatly agitated by this incident. While ho was ruminating upon it, he arrived at a sandy plain, where one of the pages, being overpowered by the heat, fell asleep^ and let the lance which he carried fall against the helmet borne by his companion. The king, being startled by the * A short distance east of the frontier of Bretagne. 228 CHAKLBS VI. [Chap. XXi clauki/ig noise, was seize.-'-' immediately by a sudden frenzy; he imagined himself pui -ued by enemies, and riding fiercely among his attendants with his sword drawn, would have killed or wounded several of them, if they had not fled. At last, his sword being broken, one of his servants sprang up behind him, and held him tightly by the arms till the rest had secured him with ropes, and in this manner he was bound down in a cart and conveyed back to Mans. He remained xn a state of frenzy for some months, and then recovered hia senses ; but the expedition to Bretagne was not resumed. In 1393 another fatal accident brought on a return of the king's disorder. The circumstance is thus related : — At the marriage of one of the queen's attendants, the king and five young noblemen of the court agreed to appear in the char- acter of savages, in what the Enghsh called a disguisement. Their dresses were made of coarse cloth covered with flax, which was fastened on with pitch. On account of the in- flammable nature of their dress, orders had been given that the flambeau bearers (for in those days there were neither lamps nor chandeliers) should stand close to the wall ; but the duke of Orleans, ignorant of this order, and not thinking of the consequences, took a torch from one of the bearers, and holding it close to one of the savages, that he might the better find out who he was, set fire to the flax. Five of the savages were instantly in flames. The sixth, who was the king, was standing at a little distance talking to the duchess of Berri. She had the presence of mind to envelop him in her mantle, and thus saved his life. Four of the others, who had entered the room chained together, were burned to death ; the fifth, extricating himself from the chain, rushed to a large cistern of water which was placed in the buttery for the purpose of rinsing the drinking cups, and plunging into it saved his life. The noise and confusion in the hall were extreme. The king was conveyed to his bed, but he was so much shocked by this dreadful catastrophe that he could get no sleep all night. At last, toward morning, he fell into a doze, from which he was presently roused by the voices of the mob, who, hearing sometliing of the accident, assembled tumultuously round the palace, and would not be convinced that the king was not among the sufferers, unless they saw him. He was therefore obhged to rise and parade about the streets for the purpose of pacifying the people. All this brought on a returo of his delirium. From that time till his death he was nevci A D. 1403. J CHARLES VL 229 entirely lestored to reason, or, if ^^ had 'ucid intervals, they were very short, and only made hit i feel the more the misery of his situation. The people, meanvi'hile, suffered the grievouc oppression of being under the rule of many masters. The first struggle for power was between the duke of Bur- gundy and his nephew the duke of Orleans, the king's broth- er. These two prmces bore an inveterate hatred to each ether, and their two duchesses also entered into the same feel- ings of enmity. The duchess of Burgundy, who was very lU- lempeied and disagreeable, and prided herself on having been the heiress of Flanders, hated the duchess of Orleans, and af- fected to despise her, because she was of inferior birth to her- eelf. The duchess of Orleans was Valentina, daughter of the duke of Milan. She was very beautiful and engaging, though of a very high spirit. She had great influence over the pooi king, and sometimes when he was in the paroxysms of mad- ness, his attendants would send for Valentina, whose presence would instantly calm his violence. In 1403 the duke of Burgundy died His son John suc- ceeded to his possessions and to his ambition, and the struggle for power was carried on between the two cousins with even more bitterness than that which had characterized it before in the contentions between the uncle and nephew. The his- tory of France is at this period little else but a history of the outrages committed by these two selfish and vindictive men. At last the duke of Burgundy filled the measure of his guill by causing the duke of Orleans to be assassinated in the streets of Paris. Valentina and her children called loudly for justice on the murderer, and the duke of Burgundy was cited to Paris to answer for his crime. He came, but attended by such a numerous body of armed men, that the council found it neces- sary to acquit him. The duke of Orleans left three sons, Charles, Philip, and John. Besides these he had an illegiti- mate son named the count de Dunois. Charles, the young duke, entered a protest against the acquittal of the duke of Burgundy, and called on all France to revenge his father's death. But the father had made himself so odious by his misconduct, that no one listened to the appeal of his son : on th3 contrary, the Parisians received the duke of Burgundy into their city ; at which Valentina, who was a woman of ungov- emed temper, actually died of grief and rage. The party of the Burgundians now gained the ascendency in affairs ; the opposite party were called Armagnacs. The f oUng duke of Orleans had married a daughter of the couu 23& CHA&LES VI [CaiP. XXi of Armagiiae, and suffered himself to be governed Ly hia father-in-law. The Armagnacs assumed the badge of a white BCirf with a St. George's cross ; that of the Burgundians waa a St. AndreAv's cross upon a red scarf. Both parties endeav- ored to possess themselves of the king's person, and to govern in his nar\e. But all they understood by government was to oppress ihi people, and to imprison and put to death (if they could) those whom they considered their enemies. The king, during his short intervals of reason, would sometimes make at- tempts to rid himself of both Burgundians and Armagnacs , but these efibrts only tended to increase the confusion. Meantime the queen, Isabella of Bavaria, led a licentious life, neglecting the king and her cliildren, who were often in want of absolute necessaries, while she was sharing in the plunder of the people. Part of that plunder she spent in friv olous extravagances ; the rest she laid up to make a fund for herself, in case she should find it necessary to abandon France During all this time France and England remained at peace. The reign of Richard II. had been too weak and frivolous, and that of the usurper Henry IV. too full of trou- bles, to allow either of them to engage in a foreign war ; but on the accession of Henry V. the case was altered. That young prince was energetic and martial, and, being at peace at home, was able to be enterprising abroad. He revived the almost forgotten pretension of Edward III. to the crovvm of France, and with no other pretext declared war on France, and landed at Havre, i^.ugust 14, 1415, with 36,000 men. His first operation was to lay siege to Harfleur,* which, though bravely defended by the citizens and a few neighboring gen- tlemen, yet, receiving no aid from the government, was obliged to surrender. The loss of Harfleur seemed first to rouse the contending parties at Paris to a sense of their danger. The oriflamme was unfurled, and an army collected ; but the jeal- ousies and animosities among the nobles occasioned so many impediments to its march, that Henry traversed the country from Harfleur nearly to Calais without meeting any thing to oppose his progress. But, to use the quaint words of an old historian, " the very abundance of the country, aided by the chmate, had been fighting the battles of the land." The heat of the weather, and the quantity of fruit wh"ch the English had indulged in on their march, had occasioned so much ill* ness among them, that, by the time Henry reached Agincourt, his army was greatly reduced in nunibers. Of those who r« • Very near Havre, on the northern coast. A.D 1415.>, CHARLES VI. 23 j mai.ned, many were so weak with illness and fatigue, that they could scarcely sit upon their horses. At Agincourt, on October 24th, 1415, tne French army, commanded by the constable d'Albret, came up with the Eng- lish ; and on the following day France experienced a still more disastrous defeat than even those of Cressy and Poitiers. The constable committed the great error of marshaling hia men on a spot of ground too small for their vast number (which v/as four times greater than that of the enemy) ; so that the soldiers impeded each other for want of room. The ground also was wet and marshy, and the footmen, at every step, sank up to their knees in mud. The knights and nobles rushed on without order to the front of the army, and scarcely any officers were left to command the main body, which soon gave way. It is a remarkable fact, that the chief brunt of the day fell on the nobles, who suffered much more than the common soldiers. The dukes of Orleans and Bourbon, with 1400 other gentlemen, were taken prisoners ; the constable himself and two of the duke of Burgundy's brothers, with the duke of Alencon, were among the slain. When the battle was over, Henry found himself too weak to improve his vie tory by any hostile proceeding ; he conducted his wearied sol- diers to Calais, and from thence embarked for England vdth his prisoners. This great and unexpected reverse, instead of uniting tho Burgundians and Armagnacs against the common enemy, only gave them another object of contention, namely, who should obtain the vacant office of constable. In this contest the count of Armagnac succeeded, and he, for a time, made himself master of Paris. The king had three sons , Louis, John, and Charles. The two eldest died very nearly together. The duke of Anjou (the king's cousin, and titular king of Naples) was accused of hav- ing poisoned them, to make way for Charles, the youngest, who had married his daughter. Charles, though only sixteen when he succeeded to the rank of dauphin, took an active part in affairs : he joined the Armagnacs, and by his advice his mother, who was become infamous by her vices, was shut up in the castle at Tours. She, however, regained her liberty, and, joining with the Burgundians, ever after pursued her soif with unrelenting hatred. On May 28, 1418, one of the gates of Paris was opened at night by a friend of the duke of Burgundy, and a party of his men i'ntered the town, and rode about the etreets, proclaim- «2 CHARLES VI 1.0hap. XXI ing, " Peace and Burgundy !" But this polluted word peact was only the prelude to a general slaughter of all the Arma- gnacs. The count himself was among the victims ; and the scenes of ferocity which at this time took place in Paris Lavti no parallel in the history of any other civiUzed country. At the commencement of the tumult, the life of the uauphin was saved by Du Chastel, the governor of the Bas- tile,* who woke him from his sleep, and, without giving him time to put on his clothes, hurried with him to the Bastile, where he kept him concealed tiU he could escape out of the city. The queen and the duke of Burgundy made a triumphant entry into Paris, while the streets were actually streaming with the blood of the murdered Armagnacs. Meanwhile king Henry landed a second time in France, and made him- self master of Rouen, and of the whole of Normandy, before the contending parties seemed aware of his presence. They now saw that it was too late to attempt to oppose him by force ; they therefore resolved to try what could be done by treaty. Conferences were held in a tent in a park, near Meulan,t between Henry and Isabella, who acted for her husband. But nothing definite was determined on, except- ing that Henry should marry the princess Catherine. The dauphin and the duke of Burgundy were present at these conferences ; but even here, though so much was at stake, their mutual hatred broke out, and each endeavored to coun- teract the object which the other wished to gain. The dauphin had an attendant who had formerly been a servant to the late duke of Orleans. This man, whose name was John Louvet, had long meditated to revenge his master's death, by assassinating, if he could, the duke of Burgundy. He and Du Chastel, who entered into his designs, endeavored to procure an opportmiity of effecting them, by persuading the dauphin to pretend an earnest wish to be reconciled to the duke. Historians are not agreed as to whether the dauphin was or was not privy to their plot. The Searchei of hearts alone knows whether or no, or in what degree h« participated in it. The duke and he had an interview, in which, with hatred in their hearts, they swore to assist each other as friends and brothers. They had another interview, August 28, 1419, on the bridge of Montereau en the Yonne ;J * A castle and prison in Paris. t North of the Seine, and a little east of tlie frimtier of Normand; t A branch of the Seine. AD. ;421.j CHARLES 1 2tW and Louvet and T)n Chastel, leaping a barrier which waa placed across the bridge for the security of each party, stab- bed the duke with their swords, as he was kneeling down tc kiss the dauphin's hand. The duke of Burgundy had only one son, who is distin- guished from the other princes of his house, by the title of Phihp the Good, duke of Burgundy. This prince had nevei taken a part in tlie disturbances and crimes of the times ; but this atrocious deed roused him to revenge. He entered into a friendly treaty with the king of England, and in the hope of forever excluding the dauphin from the throne of France, he procured Henry to be declared regent during the life of the present king, and entitled to the succession to the throne after his death. Charles, probably unconscious of what he did, was made to acknowledge Henry as his successor. Henry married the princess Catherine ; and the two kings of France and England, with their two queens, made a triumphant entry into Paris. The parliament of Paris consented to this appointment of Henry to the regency, but stipulated that the rights of the people should be respected, and that they should continue to be governed by their own laws. To these conditions, I be- lieve, Henry strictly adhered ; he, however, exercised one in- stance of severity, which was perhaps not displeasing to the Parisians, in putting to death LTle Adam, an infamous agent of the late duke of Burgimdy, and a man who had been par- ticularly active in the massacre of the Armagnacs. The daaphin, while these things were passing, had retired to Poitiers with a few friends. He was here joined by some of the members of the parliament and the university of Paris ; and though, to aU appearance, he was cast out from the throne, yet the hearts of almost all true Frenchmen were with him. The presence of the duke of Burgundy and of the English army, obhged them, however, to conceal their sentiments. The king of England was, in the autumn of 1421, obliged to return to England, leaving his brother, the duke of Clar- ence, his lieutenant-general in France. Clarence was slain in a skirmish v^dth a body of Scotch troops in the pay of the dauphin ; and Henry hastened back to France, declaring that he would not leave the dauphin a single tovra. ; but the ill state of his health prevented him from putting his threat into execution. He went to Paris, where he exhibited to the people his infant son (afterward Henry ^''I,) as their future ^A CHARLES Vr. [Chap. XXi dng , and assembling a plenary court, he and his child wern both crowiied with royal diadems. This was nearly the last act of his life. He died at the palace of Vincennes, j\.ug-nst 28, 1422, leaving his brother, the duke of Bedford, regent of France. On the 21st of the following October, Charles VI. ended his unhappy life. He died in the palace of St. Pol in Paris. He lived fifty-five years, and reigned forty-two years, thirty of which he had passed in a state of almost constant in- sanity. He married Isabella of Bavaria, and had three sons and five daughters (1.) Louis, (2.) yohn, died before their father ; (3.) Charles, succeeded ais father ; (4.) Isabella, married first, Richard II. of England ; and, secondly, the duke of Orleans ; (5.) Jane, married John de Montford, duke of Bretagne ; (t>.) Michella, married Philip, duke of Burgundy ; (7.) Cath- erine, married Henry V. of England ; (8.) Mary, a nun. That I might not break the thread of my narrative, I omitted to speak in their proper place of the affairs of Na- ples. Durazzo was slain in a popular tumult in 1385, and Louis II., the young duke of Anjou, took possession of the crown of Naples, and reigned there till 1399, when, having offended some of tlie nobles, he was driven from his throne* and retired to France. He died in 1417. In 1421, his son Louis III. made an attempt on Naples ; but he experienced nothing but a succession of disasters ; and at last " nothing remamed to him of his kingdom but the road out of it." In 1396, an expedition was sent from France to succor the king of Hungary, who was at war with Bajazet, the great Turkish conqueror. The expedition, failed, through the ill conduct of the French themselves. Their army was defeat- ad with dreadful slaughter near Nicopolis. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XXI. Richard. Did you not, George, think of Shakspeare's play of King Hemy V. when mamma came to that part about the poor EngUsh soldiers being so ill and tix^A before the battle of Agincourt ? George. I remember it very well, aud how the French' man describes the Enghsh army, and say? — Their horsemen sit I'lke fixed candlesticks, With torch staves in their h^nds, and thtjjj poor jades CoNV.j OHAELES VI. 233 Lob down their heads, dropping the hide and hips ; The gum down-roping from their pale dead eyes. And, in their pulled dull mouths, the gimmal bit Lies foul with chewed grass still and motionless. Henry V., Act I V., Scene % By-tlie bye, mamma, what is a gimmal bit ? Mrs. Markliam. It means a jointed bit, running in rings We will ask your papa to be so kind as to read that fine play to us after tea. In the mean time it has reminded me that plays were first performed in France about this period. Ridtard. That was, if I mistake not, about the time tliey were fi;st introduced into England. Mrs. M. You are very right : the first theatrical repre- sentation we find spoken of in England was, I believe, in 1378. In 1385 we find mention made in the history of France of a play exhibited in Paris in honor of the marriage of Charles VI. and Isabella of Bavaria ; but I do not under- stand whether this was the first exhibition of the kind oi not. It represented the history of our Saviour's passion and resurrection, and was made to last eight days. It was per- formed by monks. There were eighty-seven characters in the piece, and St. John was one of the principal speakers. Mary. I think acting plays was a very sUly employment for monks. Mrs. M. So I suppose the provost of Paris thought, foi he forbade them to act any more. But the king, who had been present at the representation, was so much pleased with it, that he incorporated the performers into a company, enti- tled "The Master, Governors, and Fraternity, of the Passion and Resurrection of our Lord." This fraternity proceeded to act the history of the Acts of the Apostles ; and some of these plays, written in very indifferent French verse, are still extant. Mysteries and Moralities next followed, much in the same manner as in England, The rage for all sorts of the- atrical representation in France was so great, that the priests found it necessary to alter the hour of vesper prayers to enable the people to attend both. George. I thmk it would have been as well if they had altered the time of the plays to suit the prayers. 3Irs. M. The plays were considered as a species of relig- ious observance. They were represented on Sundays and on saints' days. They commenced at one o'clock at noon, and lasted about four hours ; and the price of admitf.ance for eacij person was two sous. Mary. I am sure that was little enough. 1^36 CHARLES VI LChap. XX) Mrs. M. If we estimate the vt.iue of two sous at the time we are speaking of", you will find it was a h gh price for admittance to a play. Richard. I thought a sou was only equal to our English halfpenny ; and surely a penny was not much. Mrs. M. There is an old couplet which runs thus^ The real worth of any thing Is just as much as it will bring; and in the time of Charles VI. money in France was su scarce, that a sou went much farther than it does now. A sou a day was considered as very good pay for workman ; and from two to three sous was the price of a good pair of shoes. Richard. Then, after all, it cost at least as much to go to the play then as it costs us now. Mrs. M. It is commonly asserted that cards were invented about this time in France; but some authors suppose that they had been known long before, and that they were derived, through the Moors, from the East. At any rate, we first hear of them in France in this reign, when they were em- ployed to divert the melancholy of the king, during some of the less violent paroxysms of his disorder. It is very singular that no change should have taken place since in their form or figure. The cards which are played with now resemble, m all respects, those which were used to amuse Charles VI. Richard. I wonder if there was any meaning in the fig- ures on the cards, or if they were only meant to distinguish one from another. Mrs. M. At the time they were invented they were intended to convey a distinct meaning, the four suits being designed to represent the four classes of people ; the church- men, the military, the class of artificers, and the peasantry. Mary. I can not comprehend how hearts, spades, dia- monds, and clubs can express all that. Mrs. M. You shall hear. By the hearts were meant the ecclesiastics ; who were called in France choirmen ; and the French words for choir and heart are nearly the same. By the spades, which are, in fact, intended to represent pikeheads, are meant the nobles or military. By the square stones, or tiles, which we call diamonds, but which the French cill carreaux, was intended the artificers' class ; and, lastly, the suit which we call clubs, but which is, after all, a leaf of tre- foil, or clover, was meant tD represent the peasantry. George. This is really something quite new to me, and very diverting. Cosv.) CHARLES VI. 237 Mrs. M. The French have also particular names for each of the twelve court cards. The names of the four kings are David, Alexander, Caesar, and Charles ; the four queens ara Argine, Esther, Judith, and Pallas ; the knaves, or knights, as the French call them, are Ogier the Dane, Lancelot, La Hire, and Hector de Galard. I must not forget a story re* lating to this reign, which I think will interest you very much, particularly if ^ou have not forgot the play you went to see last year, called " The Forest of Bondi, or Dog of Mon- targis." George. O ! I remember it very well ; for I shall never forget the dear dog Carlo, and all his clever tricks ! how he trotted along, carrying the lantern to show the place where the body of his murdered master was hid I Mrs. M. The circumstance from which the play is takott occurred in the reign of Charles VI., and is briefly this. — A man, named Aubri de Montdidier, was murdered in the For- est of Bondi, not far from Paris, by Macaire, his professed and mortal enemy, who concealed the body under a tree, and re- turned to Paris, satisfied that there had been no witnesses of the deed. In that he was mistaken ; for besides the watchful eye which witnesses every deed, Aubri's faithful dog had observed the whole transaction, and laid himself down on his master's grave, never leaving the spot, except to go in search of food. For this purpose he generally repaired to Paris, to the house of his late master's most intimate friend. Here he usually obtained food, and as soon as he was satisfied, he mstantly returned to the forest. The friend, surprised at this singular appearance and disappearance of the dog, resolved one day to follow him : he did so ; and as soon as they had arrived at the tree, under which Aubri had been, buried, the dog scratched away the earth, and disclosed his master's mur- dered body. From this time the dog attached himself to his friend, and would never quit him. It was observed, that Vfhenever he saw Macaire he always growled at him, flew at him, and showed every sign of anger, insomuch that Macaire was suspected to be the murderer ; and, according to the cus- tom of that time, of deciding upon a man's guilt or innocence by a trial at arms, Macaire was sentenced to a trial by com- bat with the dog. George. A duel between a man and a dog ! And pray what weapons were they to fight with ? Mrs. M. The dog had his natural weapons of claws and teeth ; besides which he had the advantage of a tub to wtire .J33 CiIARLES VI. [Chap. XXI. to when lie was weary. The man was only permitted to have a stick and a shield. The combat took place at Paris, ii the He Notre Dame, amid an immense concourse of people. It lasted so long that Macaire fainted through fatigue, and when he came to himself confessed his crime. A picture representing this singular combat was for a long time pr^ served in the castle of Montargis ; and I can show you a little sketch of some of the principal figures Combat between Macaire and the Dog of Montarois. Mary. I can understand how the real dog could, from love of his dead master, do what he did ; but I can not understand how the dog in the play can be made to do all these things, such as ringing the bell to call up the people of the inn, and all the rest. Mrs. M. Dogs are surprisingly tractable animals, and may be taught to do many things that seem against their natures ; but in regard to the rmging the bell, I believe I can let you into a little secret about it. In training the dog to act the part, a sausage is hung at the end of the bell-string, and, in jumping up to get at the sausage, the dog rmgs the bell ; and in time he learns to pull the string without requiring the bribe. George. Well, I am glad the poor fellow is taught bis lesson by bribery, and not by blows. Mrs. M. Before we leave ofi', I have one more circum stance to mention. There appeared in Germany, in the early part of the fifteenth century, certain bands of vagabonds, without religion, without laws, without a country. They had tawiiy faces, and spoke a kind of gibberish, which wa» J 322. J CHARLES VII. £39 peculiar to themselves ; stealing and telling fortunes seemed to be their only business. Do you thiak you can guess whc these people were ? . George. I think they must have been gypsies. Ricliard. And in reality who are the gypsies ? Mrs. M. It has been a common notion that the first g5rpsies w^ere natives of Egypt, vv^ho refusing to submit to the Turkish yoke, abandoned their country. But though it ia hard to tiace the history of tliis w^andering race, I believe that the best informed people are of opinion that they came origin- ally from the East. CHAPTEPv XXII. CHARLES VII., SURNAMED THE VICTORIOUS [Years after Christ 1422-14G1.] Philip the Bold, John the Fearless, Dukes of Burgundy. Philip the Good, The dauphin was at Espailly, a petty castle in Auvergne,* when he first heard of his father's death. He immediately put on mourning ; but the next day he clothed himself in Bcarlet, and was proclaimed king by the princes and nobles who formed his little court. Charles was, at that time, about twenty years old. He possessed excellent abilities, and a good " A little so'ith of the center of France. MO CHARLES VII. [Chap. XXII heart, and occasionally acted with vigor ; but he commonlj suffered indolence and love of pleasure to stifle his better" qualities. Bjs countrj^men have given him the pompous title of the victarious, because in his time the English were driven out of France ; but he was, properly speaking, a spectator, rather than an actor, in the emancipation of his country ; and he much more deserves the name which I have sometimes seea given to liim, of " the icell served." Rheims, at Charles'? accession, was in the possession of the English ; consequently he could not be consecrated there as his predecessors had been. He was, therefore, crowned at Poitiers, and began his reign under every possible discourage- ment. He was so poor that he had little else but promises to bestow upon his followers ; but his affabihty and his grateful disposition served him at this time instead of wealth, and pro- cured him many faithful and zealous friends. His agreeable manners could not, however, entirely supply the place of money ; for we are told, that being in want of some boots, he was obliged to go without them, the shoemaker refusing to let him have them unless they were paid for. The regent Bedford, and some of Henry's valiant captains, were very active in the field, and the English were becoming every day more and more masters of the country. Orleans was at length the only remaining town of importance which Charles possessed; and, in 1428, the English forces, com- manded by the earl of Salisbury, laid siege to it. Sahsbury surrounded the town by a great number of tow ers, and put good garrisons into each ; but, according to the imperfect tactics of those times, he left many unguarded places between the towers, which enabled the count of Dunois, who conamanded Charles's troops, to bring succors, from time to time, into the town. By this means the garrison was enabled to hold out many months, during which time the brave Sal- isbury was slain, and was succeeded in his command by the earl of Sufiblk. At the approach of Lent the English regent sent to the Enghsh army a large supply of salted herrings un- der a strong escort. The French sallied out of the town to attack the escort, but were driven back again with great less. This battle was called the battle of the herrings, and the loss ol" it reduced the French to despair. They actually began to treat for a surrender ; but that they might not fall into the hands of the English, they offered to yield up their city to the duke of Burgiui "v. To this iiowever, the regent would uot .D. 1429,] CHARLES VII. Hi] .■onsent, and demanded " if it was reasonalle that he should beat the bush for the duke of Burgundy to catch the hare ?" The affairs of Charles were now reduced to the lowest ebb, and he was prepared, as soon as Orleans, which he considered as the main prop of his fortunes, should have fallen, to retire into Dauphiny as a last retreat. His fortunes were, however, unexpectedly retrieved by one of the most singular occurrences in history. You will have already guessed that this singular occurrence was the appearance of Joan of Arc, who is knowr also by the name of the Maid of Orleans. This girl was the daughter of a peasant of Domremy or the Meuse,* and by the strength of dreams, and, as she fan- cied, of apparitions of saints and angels, she believed herself divinely commissioned to rescue her fallen country. She ob- tained an interview with the king, and told him that she was destined to deliver Orleans from the English, and to take him to Rheims to be crowned. Some of the courtiers thought her an insane enthusiast : but Charles, either because he was willing to cling to a last hope, or else because he was really convinced that she spoke by divine authority, granted her re- quest that he would send her with an escort to Orleans. On her arrival there her presence inspired the garrison with fresh courage. She headed the troops in several sorties, in which they were always successful. The English soldiers could not exert themselves when she appeared. Believing that she was assisted by supernatural powers, they felt a superstitious dread of her, and so many of them fled from the army on that ac- count, that a proclamation was issued in England to appre- hend every soldier "who deserted from France " for feare of tha mayde." At last the English, on May 29, 1429, found them- selves obliged to raise the siege of Orleans. Joan having fulfilled what she believed was the first part of her m.ission, was now desirous to accomplish the second part, which was that of conducting the kmg to K-heims. In this, also, she succeeded, and he was consecrated by the archbishop of Rheims, July 7. It was now Joan's wish to resigs her military command, and to return to her native obscurity ; but this the king, having found her so necessary to his success, would not permit. But this very success was poor Joan's ruin ; for the French officers became jealous of her fame, and ashamed that a wo- man should have performed greater exploits than themselves, * The Meuse is in the northeastern part of France, and Domremy if KOf (Mr from its source T, ii2 CHARLES VJ'. li^hap. XX U xxi a ioxiii Irom the town of Compeigiie* she was abandoned by her companions, who, at the approach of the enemy, retired into the io-wn and closed the gates upon her, thus leaving hei alone amidst the enemy. She was pulled from her horse by a gentleman of Picardy : he relinquished her to John of Lux- emburg, the Burgundian general, who, for a large sum of money, gave her up to ths regent. Joan, by every law of honor and humanity, ought to have been considered and treated as a prisoner of war ; but the re- gent chose to regard her as a sorceress and a heretic. Ho obliged those members of the university of Paris who ^till re- mained ill that city to bring h er to trial for these offenses, and they and several bishops and doctors, who were her judger>, condemned her to perpetual captivity. But this the regent deemed too mild a punishment, and he found means to have it changed for one more severe. Joan, by the articles of her condemnation, was forbidden ever again to wear the habit of a man ; and Bedford, in. the cruel hope that she would not be able to resist the temptation of dressing herself in armor, caused a complete suit to be hung up in her cell. Poor Joan fell into the snare, and her barbarous persecutors having de- tected her with the armor on, pronounced her worthy of death, and condemned her to be burned alive. The sentence was executed May 30, 1431, in the market-place of Rouen. When at the stake, Joan exclaimed aloud that the hand of God was raised against the Enghsh, and that he would not only drive them out of France, but that his vengeance would also pursue them in their own country. And if we reflect on the miseries which the English experienced after their expul- sion from France, in the wars of the White and Red Roses, we may well think that her words were fully verified. At aU events, her death has fallen heavy on aU who were concerned in it. It is the " one great blot" in the otherwise spotless character of Bedford, the disgrace of her countrymen and judges who sanctioned it, and of Charles, who made no effort to save her. Mezerai says, that the judgments of God fell on. her judges, and that they all died violent and sudden deaths. I can not pretend to say how far this is true, but it is certain that the bishop of Lisieux, one of her judges, was so conscious of his crime, that he founded a chapel at Xiisieux in expiation of it. The king, who had shown his gratitude to Joan in her lifetime by ennobling her and her family, did tardy justice, tv/enty-four years after her death, to her memory, by • Tliirty or forty miles northeast cf Paris, on the Oisa A.D 1435.1 CHARLES VIE. 94J causing the jjrocess of her condemnatior. to be burned before a large assembly of prelates and nobles at Rouen. The history of poor Joan of Arc has led me on to anticipate the order of time, and to neglect in their proper place one or two particulars I ought to have mentioned. Among other things, I ought to have said that Charlea contrived, in 1424, to attach the duke of Bretagne, a weak and vacillating man, to his interest, by making his brother, Arthur of Bretagne, count of Richemont, constable of France. Phis man had many great and fine qualities, and served the king with a most faithful attachment ; but his zeal for his master's service often carried him farther than was just or politic. Charles had many very brave men in his service. Among those who are most frequently named in history are the count of Dunois, La Hire, and Saintraille ; but although they per- formed many vahant exploits, they were none of them en- dowed with great mihtary talents ; and it was said of Charles, that he had many brave captains, but no generals. He him- self might have been a good general if he had pleased, and whenever he exerted himself he displayed vigor and ability. But his habitual indolence made these exertions very rare ; and although the war was still kept up between him and the English, it was conducted without much activity on either side. The torpor on the part of the Enghsh was not the fault of the regent. He did all he could, but he could not counter- act the ill consequences of a quarrel which had taken place between his brother the duke of Gloucester, and the duke of Burgundy, which caused, for a time, a coolness on the part of Burgundy toward the English. The hearts of the French also, although they might dissemble their sentiments, for fear of the English arms, were all inclining toward their ovra. le- gitimate sovereign. To excite some feehng in favor of the young king of England (Henry VI.), the regent had him brought to France and crowned a second time in Paris. But tha pageant had no other efiect than to make the Parisians sigh the more for their own monarch. In 1435 the tide turned in their favor. The duke of Bui- gundy deserted the English, and made a separate peace with Charles. This peace, which is called the peace of Arras, waa celebrated throughout France with the most frantic expres- eions of joy. To the regent, Bedford, it occasioned, on th» otlier hand, so much vexation as to be the cause of his death ^.D. 1437.] CHARLES VII 245 The English affairs rapidly declinel from this time. The dukes of York and Somerset, who were successively regents of France, wanted the ability to stem the torrent that ran strongly against them ; and when the civil wars broke out in England, the contending parties were too much occupied at home to be able to pay attention to the affairs in .France. Paris was almost the first town that threw off the English yoke; and on Nov. 4, 1437, Charles made his public entry into his capital, after a banishment of seventeen years. The year 1438 is memorable on account of a famine, iol lowed by a pestilence, which caused so great a mortaUty in Paris and in the environs, that the wolves roamed about the nearly depopulated streets, and some children were carried ofi by them. In 1440 a short truce was agreed on between the Exigli.'sh and the French. Charles would now have given himself up to the enjoyment of his gardens (of which he was very fond), and of his other quiet amusements, had not his tranquillity and happiness been destroyed by the conduct of his eldest son. This young prince (afterward Louis XI.) had early shown a disobedient and malignant temper. When not more than sixteen years of age, he had joined some discontented nobles in a conspiracy against the king, Charles forgave him for this offense on account of his youth, and received him into his favor as before. But Louis made an undutiful and un- grateful return to his indulgent father. He behaved insolent- ly to his favorites, and often displeased them by the violence of his temper. When he was about twenty-two years old, he conceived an enmity to some person about the court, whom he engaged the count de Dammartin to assassinate. Dam- martin, either because he had never seriously intended to commit the deed, or else because he afterward repented of his engagement, refused to perpetrate the crime. These circum- stances coming to the knowledge of the king, he sent for his son, and most severely reprimanded him for his wickedness. The dauphin, to exculpate himself, threw the whole blame on Dammartin, who denied the charge, and offered to vindicate his honor by single combat with any gentleman of the dau- phin's household. The king, knowing too well the evil dispo' sitions of his son, felt persuaded of his guilt, and banished hira to Dauphiny, forbidding him to appear again in h's pres- ence for four months. At the expiration of that time, Charles expeetecl to have Boea him again, and that he would ha"\'e returned pejiitent 846 onAULES VII. [Ohap. XXil and subdued. But Louis, on the contrary, refused to return, and, establishing- himself at Dauphiny, set himself up as his own master. He loaded the people with taxes, and treated them with the utmost tyranny. His conduct becoming in- supportable, the king sent Dammartin witli orders to arrest nim, and bring him to Paris. But Louis, having previous notice of his coming, fled to the duke of Burgundy, who re- ceived him with the greatest kindness, gave him money for his expenses, and assigned him the castle of Genappe, near Brussels, for his residence. Here he remained till his father's death, obstinately resisting every invitation to return, and re- paying the kindness of the duke of Burgundy by sovv^ng dis- sensions between him and the count de Charolois, his only son. In the mean time the truce with England had been broken. The war was renewed in 1448, and was carried on through- out to the disadvantage of the English. Talbot, who alone remained of all Henry's brave warriors, made a last efibrt to redeem the honor and interests of his country. He and his son were both slain in 1453, near Chatillon.* This defeat was followed by the complete ruin of the English, and soon nothing remained to them of all their boasted conquests in France except the town of Calais. Charles, though thus at last restored to the dominions of his ancestors, had little satisfaction in this prosperous situa tion of his affairs. His son, to strengthen himself still more against his father, had allied himself with the duke of Savoy, and had married his daughter — a step which was highly dis pleasing to Charles. Louis was also suspected (but I believe unjustly) of having caused the death of his father's mistress, Agnes Sorel, by means of poison. He was suspected also of designs on the life of his father, and to have bribed his serv- ants to give him poison in his food. The unhappy monarch, under this apprehension, refused all nourishment ; and when, at last, he was prevailed on to take some, it was too late to save his life. He died July 22, 1461. He was fifty-nine years old, and had reigned thirty-nine years. He married Mary of Anjou, daughter of Louis II., titular Idng of Naples, and had two sons and four daughters : (1.) Louis, who succeeded him. (2.) Charles, duke of Berri. (3.) Joland, married the duke of Savoy. (4.) Cath- erine, married the count of Charolois. (5.) Jane, married the duke de Bourb-ju. (6.) Magdelain, married the couni, dtt Foix * On the Seine, near its source. kS llJJji CHAR], BS VII Sd? Tn 1438 Cliarles called an assembly of his clergy at Bourges. In this assembly the Gallican church threw off much of itfi dependence on the pope. Charles, finding that there was a great want of infantry in France, ordered that each village throughout the Idngdom should furnish and pay a foot archer, who should be free from all taxes and subsidies. This corps, which amounted to about 22,000 men, was called the Franc Archers. Charles also established the Companies, of Ordnance, which formed a body of about 9000 cavalry, and were tlie foundation of the French regular army. In 1440 the duke of Orleans returned from his long captiv- ity in England, He obtained his release chiefly by the good offices of the duke of Burgundy, who, being desirous to ter- minate the long feud between their families, assisted him in paying his ransom. When the duke of Orleans regained his liberty, he was received with great honor by the duke of Bur- gundy. These two princes lived ever after in perfect friend- ship. The duke of Orleans's first wife being dead, the duke of Burgundy gave him his niece in marriage, by whom he had a son, who was afterward Louis XII. The constable of France, Arthur of Bretagne, died a few years before the king his master. Some years before his death, he became, by the deaths of his brother and of his nephew, duke of Bretagne ; but he would never sufler him- self to be called duke of Bretagne ; preferring always the title of constable of France, and saying, " that in his old age he would be called by that title only which had given luster to his youth." On his death the dukedom of Bretagne de- volved on Francis, the son of his younger brother. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XXII. Mary. Pray, mamma, who was that Agnes Sorel, who was such a favorite with the king ? Mrs. MarJchxm. She was a lady of great beauty and ac- eomplishmentSj and much celebrated by the French poets «,nd historians, becaase she employed the influence she pos- sessed over Charles to rouse him from his natural indolence, and to urge him to exert himself for the recovery of his dominions. Mary. Then she must have been a very good woman. Mrs. M. She had some redeeming virtues with some very 248 CHARLES VII. [CKiP. XXli. great faults. She was buried at Jumieges, in JNormaiitly, where a splendid monument was raised over her grave, ia which she was represented in a kneeling posture, with hex heart in her hand, which she was offering to the Virgin. Tnis monument was destroyed in some religious disturbances, and its place was supplied by a plain slab of black marble, which is still in existence, as the threshold stone to a house at Rouen. Agnes is sometimes called the Lady of Beauty, not because of her great personal attractions, but on account of a castle so called, which the king gave her. Mary. How glad that poor duke of Orleans must have been when he got his liberty again ! I hope they did not keep him shut up in a prison all those twenty- five years in England ? Mrs. M. Great part of that time he passed at Groom- bridge, not far from Tunbridge, in the custody of Richard Waller, an Enghsh gentleman. Waller had found the duke after the battle of Agincourt, lying among the slain, and, perceiving some life in him, carried him to Henry, who, as a reward for his care, appointed him guardian to the royal prisoner. • Mary. But was Groombridge a prison ? Mrs. M. No, my dear ; it was Mr. Waller's oviTi housti. It is still standing, and I have been told that a part of it was built under the directions of the duke. He also contributed to the repairs of the neighboring church of Speldhurst, where his arms may still be seen over the porch. Mary. I am glad he had such pleasant emploj^ments to amuse himself with. Mrs. M. He was also able to amuse himself witn writing poetry. I will show you a sonnet on Spring- ""^hich is sai(l to have been written by him. LE PRINTEMS. Le Temps a laissie son menteau De vent, dn froidure, et de pluye ; Et s'esfc vestu de broderye De soleil riant, cler et beau. H n'y a baste, ne oyseau, ftui en son jargon ne chante et crye ; Le temps a laissie son menteau De vent, de froidure, et de pluye. Rivifere, fontaine, et ruisseau, Portent eu livree jolie Gouttes d' argent, d'orfevrerie : Chascun s'abille de nouveau, Le Temps a laissie son menteam CojiT] CHARLES VII. 21« Richard. Many of the words are spell< d so differently from modeJa French, that T am not quite sure whether I understand it perfectly. I wish you would be so good as tc translate it for us. Mrs. M. I will read you a translation, which I copied from a mogazme. The Time hath laid his mantle by Of wind and rain and icy chill, And dons a rich embroiderie Of sun-light poured on lake and hill. No beast or bird, in earth or sky. Whose voice doth not with gladness thrill ; For Time hath laid his mantle by Of wind and rain and icy chill. River and fountain, brook and rill, Bespangled o'er with livery gay Of silver droplets, wind their way : ,, All in their new apparel vie, For time hath laid his mantle by. Ridmrcl. Pray, can you tell us what became of that bad tjueen Isabella of Bavaria ? Mrs. M. She seems to have been detained in a sort of custody by the Enghsh at Paris, who treated her with con tempt and neglect. Her hatred of her son continued unabat- ed to the end of her life, which, in fact, was terminated by the excess of her vexation at seeing him acquire possession of his kingdom. A monument was erected over her, in which, in- stead of the dog which it was customary to place at the feet of ladies in the monuments of those times, the sculptor sub- stituted the figure of a wolf, as an emblem of her cruel and rapacious disposition. George. By-the-by, mamma, that was very shocking about the wolves eating up the children in the streets of Paris. Are there any wolves in France now ? Mrs. M. I understand there are ; but they no longer range dbout the country in packs as they did formerly. They are only to be seen in unfrequented places, ■ and seldom more than two or tlii'ee at a time. Mary. I should be afraid to live in France for fear of the Avolves. Mrs. M. A gentleman, who has lived a good deal in Touraine, told me, that he had frequently seen a solitary wolf in his walks ; but that he never met w.'th one that showed an inclination to attack him ; at the sight of him they commonly slunk away into the nearest thicket. I.* i50 CHARLES VII. iChap. XXIL Geo', ^e. I supposi that wolves know by instinct that theit strength is in numbers. Mrs. M. I have just recollected that I omitted to mention in its proper place, the famous council of Constance, which, although it has no immediate connection with the history of France, is yet so important an event, that I ought not to have passed it over. Richard. Then will you be so good as to give us some account of it now. Mrs. M. I must go back to the year 1377, when pope Gregory XI. removed the papal see from Avignon back to Rome. He died in the following year, and after his death there was a great schism among the cardinals, who could not agree in the choice of the new pontiff. Those who were in the interest of Rome wished to elect a pope who would remain at Rome ; while, on the contrary, those who were in the interest of France, wished to bring back the papal see to Avignon. George. And which got the better ? Mrs. M. I can scarcely tell you. As the two parties could not agree in naming the same pope, they both chose one of their own, so that there were two popes. This schism lasted forty years, and caused continual disturbances throughout Italy. At last, there were three popes all at one time, Johp XXIII., Gregory XII., and Benedict XIII. The emperor Sigismond, who was very anxious to restore the peace of Italy, obliged John, much against his will, to summon a council at Constance,* for the three purposes of terminating the schism, of reforming the church, and of extirpating heresy. This council met on the feast of All Saints, 1414, and the emperor compelled John to make a pubhc declaration, that he would resign his dignity provided his two rivals would do the same. John, however, had no intention of keeping his word, but he dissimulated, for fear of the emperor, who kept him as a kind of prisoner. He now bitterly repented having come to Con- stance, and resolved to get away as soon as he could. But this, as the town was full of Sigismond's partisans, was no easy matter. At last, the duke of Austria, who was hia friend, contrived to favor his escape, by proclaiming a touma ment, during the bustle of which the pope got away in tha disguise of a postilion. Maty. O ! what a comical figure he must have made. Mrs. M. Particularly if he was dressed hke this figure o/ * Iq Switzerland. Tout.] CHARLF.S VIl. «5I A French Postillion of the Fiftebnth Cek'xcrt. a French postillion in the time of Charles VI. But to go on with my story. The emperor was very angry with the duke of Austria for assisting John in his escape ; he laid him under the ban of the empire, and would forgive him only on condi- tion that he gave up the fugitive pope. John was suspended from his pontifical powers, and imprisoned for about three years at Heidelberg, at the end of which time he was released on his consenting to acknowledge Martin V., who had been elected pope by the members of the council. Thus in 1417 an end was happily put to the schism which had so long em broiled Italy, and the more happily, because Martin was a peace-making, good man. Richard. This council of Constance managed the affair of the schism very well. Pray, what was done in regard to heresy and the reformation of the church ? Mrs. M. I believe nothing was done toward reforming the church ; but the members of the coimcil thought they did a great deal toward extirpating heresy by burning John Huss and Jerome of Prague, who were followers of the doctrines of Wickliffe. The death of Huss seemed the more shocking, because he had been induced to obey a summons to attend the council under promise of the emperor's protection; but when he came there, Sigismond withdrew his protection, and suffered him to be given up to his persecutors. Miclmrd. And was Jerome of Prague betrayed in the same manner M73. M. He had not been summoned to the council ; but hearijf.^' of his friend's a.rips;t, he came t:) Constance with « 252 CHARLES VII. [Chap. XXli view to assist and comfort liirn. Being here intimidated h^ the violent spirit which he found raging against their opinions, he endeavored to fly from the town ; but he was overtaken and brought back in chains, and confined for nearly a year in a dark dungeon. He was then brought to trial, found guilty, and condemned to be burned alive. Poggio Bracciolini, a learned Italian, who was present at his trial and death, has left us a very uiteresting account of his death in a letter to his friend. Richxtrd. How 1 should like to see that letter ! Mrs. M. You may read it in Mr. Shepherd's life of Pog- gio. In the mean time I can give you some extracts froir it. "I must confess," says he, speaking of Jerome's ap- pearance at his trial, " that I never saw any one who in pleading a cause, especially a cause on the issue of which his own life depended, approached nearer to that standard of an- cient eloquence which we so much admire. It was astonish- ing to witness with what choice of words, with what closeness of argument, he replied to his adversaries. — It is a wonderful instance of his memory, that though he had been confined three hundred and forty days in a dark dungeon, where it was impossible for him to read, and where he must have daily suffered from the utmost anxiety of mind, yet he quoted so many learned writers in defense of his opinions, and supported his sentiments by the authority of so many doctors of the church, that any one would have been led to believe that he had devoted all the time of his imprisonment to the peaceful and undisturbed study of philosophy. His voice was sweet, clear, and sonorous ; his action dignified, and well adapted either to express indignation or to excite compassion, which, however he neither wished nor asked for ; he stood undaunted and intrepid, not merely contemmng, but, like another Cato, long- ing for death ; he was a man worthy to be had in everlasting lemembrance." " When he arrived at the place of execution, he strip- peease him but the death of his victim. On the second day he became more calm, and held a council on the conduct to be observed toward his royal prisoner. This council lasted during the greater part of the day, and part of the night, but without coming to any determination. Charles was some times inclined to keep the king prisoner for life, and some times resolved to send him to his brother the duke of Berri At other times he seemed as if he only wanted a little encour agement from his council to put him to death at once. During the whole of the third night he was in a perpetual agitation. He neither undressed himself nor slept, but kept alternately lying on his bed and walking up and down his apartment with Comines, who now and then threw in a word represent- ing the impolicy as well as the dishonor of proceeding to ex- tremities. He at length became more tractable, and toward morning was so far pacified as to consent that the king should have his liberty, on conditions which were sufficiently humili- ating, but which Louis was glad enough to accede to. One of these conditions was, that he should give up to his brother the counties of Champagne and Brie ; another was, that he should accompany the duke to Liege, and assist in quelling the insurrection which he had himself excited. To Liege, accordingly, these two princes went, and there Charles gave a free rein to his passion. The insurgents were soon subdued, and the innocent and the guilty fell indiscrimi- nately in the shocking butchery which followed. If Louis was capable of feeling any remorse or pity, he must have been touched at witnessing the miserable consequences which his own arts had brought on these unhappy people ; but that is a point on which his annalists are silent. When the work of blood was over, and the duke's vengeance was sufficiently sated, he and Louis separated, with many fair words and comphments, and such a show of civility, as, considering the circumstances and the characters of the two men, was a mere mockery. It added to the king's vexation at this result of his expe- dition to Peronne, that the Parisians were very facetious at his expense, and at the failure of all his fine contrivances. By way of being revenged on them, he deprived them of all the tame animals and birds they kept for their amusement ; and «uch was the meanness of his jealousy, that he had a registel 4.D. 1468. j LOUIS XI Z6F kept of every tning the parrots and other talking birtls said, to find out if any of them had been taught to pronounce that unlucky word Peronne. When Louis was once more safe in his own dominions, ht- was in no disposition to fulfill the conditions of the treaty which necessity had forced from him at Peronne. Not chooS' ing to give to his brother Champagne and Brie, a territory which would place him near his ally the duke of Burgundy, he persuaded him to accept instead the duchy of Guienne. Charles was violently enraged at this infringement of the treaty, and was on the point of enforcing the observance of it, when the death of the duke of Berri in 1471 removed the subject of the dispute, although it did not prevent the war from breaking out. The duke of Berri's death was occasioned by eating part of a poisoned peach, and Louis was strongly suspected of having contrived, or at least cormived at it. Nothing was ever proved to confirm or clear away this suspicion, but Charles acted on the belief that it was a true one, and to avenge his friend's death, carried the war into Picardy, where the unoffending inhabitants suffered the punishment of the crimes imputed to their unprincipled king. This war, with the interruption of occasional truces, lasted many years ; but I shall pass over the particulars, which are rendered exceedingly intricate by the chicanery and double dealing of Louis of Luxembourg, count of St. Pol. This man had been originally attached to the side of Burgundy, and took an active part with the confederates in the war for the public good. A short time before the treaty of Conflans, the king, in hopes to detach him from that party, offered him the sword of constable of France. St. Pol accepted of the offer with great profession of loyalty to Louis, and at the same time he made Charles believe that he accepted it solely with the view of being the better able to be secretly serviceable to him. In this manner did this perfidious man sell himself to two masters, betraying the secrets of the one to the other, and deceiving both. His chief object v/as to promote the war between France and Burgundy, because during a time of war his emoluments as constable were enhanced. At last, his treachery became so evident, that both Charles and Louis were equally convinced of it. And at a time when they hap- pened to be in tolerable good humor with each other, they mutually agreed that whichever of them should first get the constable intc? his power should either put him to death in 26y i OUIS XI. [Chap. XXiU eight days, or else give him up to the other When. St. Po heard of this agreement, he took good care to keep out oi their way, and shut himself up in the tjwn of St. Quentin, where he remamed for some time in sesurity. At last, find- ing himself hard pressed hy Louis, and thinking he was no longer safe at St. Quentin, he determined to trust himself to the more generous nature of the duke of Burgundy, and ob- taining a safe conduct from him, he sought refuge in his ter- ritories. Louis instantly claimed his victim ; Charles suffered his resentment against St. Pol to balance every other con sideration, and delivered him up. He was conveyed to Paris, and condemned and executed as a traitor, Dec. 19, 1475, and never was any one less pitied or lamented. Some months previous to the death of the constable, Ed- ward IV. of England, to assist his ally the duke of Burgundy (who had married his sister), brought a numerous army into France, through " the ever open gate of Calais." Louis, who bore in mind the terrible days of Cressy and Agincourt, trem- bled at the thoughts of an English army in his kingdom, and resolved to spare no pains to get peaceably rid of them. He did not find this a veiy difficult matter. Edward had been pressed into the war against his incHnations, and being grown unwieldy and indolent, willingly listened to Louis's overtures, and unhesitatingly accepted of a considerable bribe, under thf softened name of tribute, on consideration of returning with his army to England. Louis did not content himself Avith bribing only the king. He secured the suffrages of Edward's ministers by bestowing on them gifts and pensions. He treated the English during their stay in France with the greatest apparent respect and courtesy, though all the time he hated them in his heart. To keep tho soldiers in good humor, he gave them a great enter tainraent at Amiens.* With " his good brother of England" he requested a per sonal interview ; still, however, so much distrusting him, thai he did not venture to meet him otherwise than on a bridge (the bridge of Pequigni), with a grated barrier between them. In short, his conduct to the English can not be better de- scribed than by comparmg it to that of some timorous person, who by coaxmg words is trying to keep dovra. a mastiff which he thmks is longing to fly at him. At last, the treaty being concluded at Pequigni, Aug. 29, 1475, Eiward and his host departed, and Louis recovered from the terror he had been * On the Somme. /LD 1477 ^ LOUIS XI 26,V thrown into. A chief article of the peace was, thai the son of the king of Frajice should marry the king of England'i* eldest daughter. The duke of Burgundy was much displeased at this treaty, and refused to he included in it. He, however, not long af terward, made a truce with Louis for nine years. This truce he made because his ambition -was now impelling him tc turn liis anns against his other neighbors. He attacked the duke of Lorraine, and dispossessed him of his dominions. He invaded a part of Savoy,* and he nerit endeavored to subjugate the Swiss ; but from, these hardy mountaineers he met with an unexpected repulse, and was defeated by them with great loss at Granson, April 5, 1476. This defeat, instead of checldng his ambitious projects, only made him pursue them the more franticly, and against all prudent counsel ; and with an inadequate force he rashly made another attack on the Sv/iss. But in a battle fought near Nancy,t in January, 1477, his army was totally defeat- ed, and he himself lost his life. The circumstances of his death are truly trngical. He had for some time given his chief confidence to an Italian favorite named Campobasso, who, under a show of devoted attachment, had (from some cause which is not known, but which is commonly supposed to have been the having once received a blow from him) vowed his destruction. Campo- basso had purposely, on many occasions, persuaded Charles into very impolitic measures, and now, in the field of Nancy, m the time of his greatest need, he withdrew with that part of the army which was under his command, and stationed some of his own creatures about the duke's person, with or- ders to kill him if they saw that he was likely to escape with life. These orders were but too well executed. The day after the battle the dulce's body was found wounded in three places. He had fallen in a kind of morass with his face in the water, which in the night had frozen so hard that his bodj could not be extricated from it but by pickaxes. The duke of Lorraine, who commanded the Swiss army, gave his fallen adversary an honorable funeral. What was something more in unison wdth the mournfulness of the occasion, he pronounced over the dead body, taking it by the hand, this short but sira p)e oration : — " God rest thy soul ; thou hast, given us much tiouble and grief." * Savoy is east of France, and south of Switzerland. f In the eastern part of France, in LoiTaine. 264 LOUIS XI. rCHAP. XX HI Thus fell Charles the Bold, the last duke of Burgundy. By his death, his vast possessions, which extended from the north- ern limits of Holland to the frontiers of Switzerland, descended lo his only child Mary, who, young and inexperienced, knew not how to contend with the difficulties with which she found herself environed. The resources of her country had been exhausted, and the bravest of her subjects had fallen in the late wars ; and she was at ome assailed by a tumultuous council, a disobedient people, and a powerful and vindictive enemy. That enemy was Louis, who made no attempts to conceal his joy at the duke of Burgundy's death. He iu' stantly seized on the duchy of Burgundy, on the plea that in default of male heirs it had fallen" to the crown of France ; and at the same time he made an attack on some of Mary's towns in Picardy. When the news of the duke's death arrived at Ghent, the citizens immediately took the government into their own hands. They slew the magistrates, and refused to acknowl edge the young duchess's authority. As Mezerai expresses it, " being both proud and ignorant, they meddled with every thing, and did nothing but what was wrong." The duchess placed her chief confidence in her mother-in- law (Margaret of York) and in a few of the ancient servants of her family. These persons, although they were her firm and attached friends, appear to have been but indifferent ad visers. By their advice she tried to excite compassion and feelings of honor in the hard and insensible heart of Louis. She sent embassadors to him with offers of peace, and wrote him a letter in which she promised to unite her dominions with those of France by a marriage with the dauphin, then a boy of eight years old. Louis, who preferred taking his own crooked ways, returned an ambiguous answer ; and soon afterward, when some deputies from the people of Ghent ar- rived at Paris, he gave them the duchess's letter, in the hope that it would embroil her with her subjects, who, he knew, would greatly resent her having offered to give up herself and her territories to France, without their knowledge or consent It turned out as he had expected. When the deputies re- turned to Ghent, they showed the duchess her letter in a public assembly, and vehemently reproached her for her con- duct. Nor was that all ; they condemned as traitors her chancellc^r Hugonet and the lord of Imbercourt, by whose ad vice she ha 3 acted, and gave heiir only three hours to prepare for death. \.D. 1477 1 I.OUIS XI. '»6S The pool- young duchess was in the deepest affliction. At once humiliated at the pubhc disclosure of her negotiation with Louis, and driven to despair at the impending fate of tier faithful servants, she ran about the market-place, where the scaffolds were erecting, and with disheveled hair and dis Drdered dress, she implored and entreated for their lives. But her entreaties were in vain. They were executed almost in her sight. The citizens were now more overbearing than ever. They made the duchess their prisoner, debarred her from the company of her mother-in-law, and wished, to force on her a husband of their own choosing. But in that partic- ular Mary found means to elude their vigilance, and entered into a treaty of marriage with Maximilian, eldest son of the emperor Frederic III. The Flemings agreed to this mar- riage, which took place in 1477. They did not dispute Maximilian's authority over them while Mary lived ; but on her death, in 1481, by a fall from her horse, they refused to submit any longer to his control. Mary left two children, Philip and Margaret. The people of Ghent took these children under their own guardianship. They brought up the boy as their future duke, and making peace with Louis, they betrothed the little girl, who was not two years old, to the dauphin, and sent her to be edi\r;ated in France. This event is said to have hastened the death of the king of England, who had so confidently built on his own daugh- ter's marriage with the dauphin, that he had been accustom- ed to style her " the dauphiness." Louis had now outlived all his most feared and hated rivals, and had, either by secret treachery or by open violence, arrived at a greater degree of power and authority than any of his predecessors had attained. But noAV was the time when, in- stead of enjoying, as he had hoped, the friiits of his labors, he was to pay the penalty of his crimes. His constitution was breaking down, and the fear of death filled him with in- describable horrors. He had the first warning of its dreaded approach in March, 1480, when, as he was sitting at dinner, he was suddenly deprived of speech and sense. He remained three days in that condition, and although he partially re- covered from the efiects of this attack, he never afterward regained his former health. As his bodily strsngth declined, the malevolence of his temper increased, and hi became more jealous and suspicious than ever. Conscious, as he himself, in an exhortatioo to his son, acknowledged, " tha t he had M S(3J LOUIS XL [Chai X.X1IL grievously oppressed his people," he lived in continual dread of their retaliation. He shut himself up in his castle of Plessis, near Tours,* and in addition tc the customary fortifi- cations, caused it to be surrounded viith ditches, in which were placed iron spikes ; and, not daring to trust to the fidel- ity of his own subjects, he had a band of foreign archers, who kept guard at the gate of the castle day and night The castle could only be entered by a wicket, which admitted but one person at a time, and he sufi^ered no person of ranlc to be lodged within it, excepting the lord of Beaujeu, who had married his eldest and favorite daughter, and who, being a person of weak abilities, he supposed to be the less capable of forming dangerous machinations against him. Louis had so great a dread of the nobles and princes of the blood, that although he detained the duke of Orleans and gome others near his court, he treated them with distant coldness, and kept them in a sort of imprisonment. His chief and familiar associates were Oliver Daim, his barber, Tristan I'Hermite, his hangman, and Jacques Coctier, hi& physician. To the last of these this most tyrannical mon- arch was an absolute slave. The artful Jacques pretended that an astrologer had predicted that his death should take place a few days before that of the king, and the king, con- sequently, watched over his life with anxious care, loaded him with presents, and submitted to all his insolence and humors. The more Louis was conscious of his declining state, the more he sought to conceal it from the world. Instead of the mean and sordid dress he was accustomed to wear, he nov/ put on magiuficent apparel, and would take occasion to show himself at the windows of his castle, and then hastily with- draw himself, that the people who saw him might not have time to observe his meager and altered looks. He imported from foreign countries many rare animals, which could not be procured without much expense and difficulty. He had dogs from Spain, Hons from Barbary, elks and deer from Den- mark and Sweden, and yet when they were obtained, he cared not even to see them. But though he endeavored to deceive others, he could not deceive himself. The nearer death approached, the more his dread of it increased. Tc ward it off, he tried all the arts of superstition. He caused himself to be anointed with the holy oil from E-heims ; be * Tours is ou the Loire, a little more tban ore hundred miles from iii mouth, A..D. 1433.] LOUIS XI. -^m loaded himself with the relics of saints, and sent processions to their shrines, praymg that they would prevent the north- east wind from blowing, because it seemed to increase his disorder ; but he placed his greatest hopes in a hjly hermit 0^ Calabria, who had the reputation of working miracles, and of restoring the sick to health by his. prayers. He sent for him to Tours, and frequently on his knees besought him to prolong his life. The holy man in vain represented to him that the power of prolonging it lay only ^vith God, and bade him turn his thoughts towa?"d the next world, instead of thinking so exclusively of thi?. Louis was at length sensible that these miserable struggles to avert the inevitable hand of death must soon terminate. Beheving himself to be on the point of expiring, he ordered his chief officers to go to his son at Amboise,* and to consider him as their master. He also sent with tihem his hawks and his hounds, and all that was then considm'ed as forming the royal establishment. He soon after felt momentarily a little revived, and would have recalled them, but death prevented his purpose. He died Augijst 30, 1483, having lived sixty-one yes-Jrs, and reigned twenty-two. When very young, he was married to Margaret, daughtei of James I., king of Scotland ; but this princess, although amiable and gentle-tempered, never could acquire liis regard, and died of grief, as it was said, at his neglect and unkindness. His second wife, Charlotte of Savoy, was not more happy ; and although he acknowledged that she was ".a virtuous and loving wife," he treated her with harshness and inattention, alleging as his chief cause of being offended with her, that she expressed more compassion than he approved of for the house of Burgundy. By her he had three children, one son and two daughters : (1.) Charles, who succeeded him. (2.) Anne, married Pierre de Bourbon, lord of Beaujeu. (3.) Joan, married the duke of Orleans, afterward Louis XII. Mezerai teUs us, that Louis caused more than four thou- sand persons to be put to death by different irodes of execu- tion, many of which he himself took pleasure in vvdtnessing. He kept the cardinal de Balue for many years shut up in au iron cage, as a punishment for his numerous political intrigues, and only released him from his imprisonment on the cardinai'd feigning himself at the point of death. * A little east of Touis, on the Loire. g«a LOUIS XI. lChap. xxni Louis atidcl greatly to the territories of the crown of France. He won a considerable district from the house of Burgundy. The county of Boulogne he acquired by purchase The counties of Maine and Anjou were bequeathed to him by Charles of Anjou, count of Maine, who also left to him the rich inheritance he had derived from his uncle Regniei of Arijou. This inheritance included Bar and Provence, to- gether witi. the imaginary claims of the house of Anjou to the crown of Naples. In this reign the art of printing was introduced into France. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XXIII. George. What in the world could induce that count of Maine to leave his territories to such an old rogue as king Louis ? Mrs. Markham. It was possibly on the score of their re- lationship, and not from any feehng of regard. The king's mother, Mary of Anjou, and the count's father were brother and sister : old Regnier of Anjou, often called king Rene, was another brother. Richard. Pray, mamma, was not that Regnier of Anjou the father of our queen Margaret of Anjou ? Mrs. M. He was. After spending the early part of his life in struggling to obtain the kingdom of Naples, he, in his old age, retired to Provence, and consoled himself for the loss of a crown by the amusement of a garden, and in the cultiva- tion of plants. We may thank him for that lovely ornament of our gardens, the Provence rose. Mary. I am sure that I, for one. am very much obliged to him. Richard. I wondei if therfe evei WJis anothei man so cold hearted and wicked as this Louis the eleventh. Mrs. M. The Roman emperor Tiberius seems to have very much resembled him. A striking parallel may be drawn between their two characters, and it is hard to say which was the worst. Richard. Louis was the worst, because, being a Chris- tian, li2 ought to have known better. Mrs. M. His Christianity, I fear, did him little good The fear and love of God, and the wish to serve him, was no part of the religion of Louis. His religion was the most ab^ ject superstition He paid great devotion to the bones of CoNV.] LOUIS XI. ■ 269 saints, 3 /id always carried some relics about his peisoii. He also wore a little leaden image of the Virgin in his barette 01 cap, to which he frequently addressed his prayers. He had also many religious scruples, and among them was one which consisted in an unwillingness even to make oath by the cross of St. Lo. Mary. And what did he thmk there was wrong in that ? Mrs. M. It was not so much his fear of doing wrong, as of incurring danger, which made him avoid this oath. He believed that whoever made oath falsely by that cross, would come to an untimely death before the end of the year. He was, therefore, too prudent to venture on doing any thing so rash. George. There was something like conscience in that : he was not blind to his own faults. Mrs. M. He was by no means without a conscience, and he took great pains to keep it clear by frequent confessions. Philip de Comines was once present, at an interview between the king and his priest, and diyly observes, " that there wa-s no great matter in the king's confession, for he had confessed himself not long before." Louis, however, had one merit. * Little as he respected justice in his own conduct, he was very rigorous in requiring his subjects to observe it toward one another. There are also two or three other praiseworthy things to be said of him. He graciously received and protected those learned Greeks who, after the taking of Constantinople by the Turks, sought refuge in France. He instituted parliaments at Dijon* and at Bordeaux: and, lastly, he established posts and couriers in different parta nf France for the conveyance of letters. George. And that was the best thing he ever did. Mrs. M. These posts had their origin from the king's restless and suspicious temper, and from his impatience to learn promptly whatever was passing in all parts of his king- dom. They were employed solely in the service of the king. It was not until 1 630 that the letters of private individuals might be conveyed by the public posts, Richard. There is one thing that puzzles me very much in the history of this king, and it is how so bad a man could find faithful and attached servants who would execute all his schemes. Mrs. M. He had a wonderful skill in finding out the * In the eastern part of the province of Birgund/. Bordeaux is ii: the •autl westeri part. •70 L0T71S XL [Chm XXIfl tempers and dispositiojis of those persons whom he wished tc make use of, and had great art in binding them to his will by means of their avarice, vanity, or self-love. Comines tells us, that one of his ways, when he wanted to gain any person, was to whisper, as if confidentially, in his ear, which gave him importance in his own eyes and in those of others, who would look on him as intrusted vsdth important affairs. He had also a way of cajoling by a pleasant and facetious humor, which he could at all times command. He could also, when he chose it, overawe and confound, by his keen and sarcastic wit, those whom he conversed with ; and lastly, he could, as he saw occasion, be liberal in his gifts, and severe in his punishments ; so that, between hope and fear, he kept all whom he employed in a very strict dependence on his will. George. I shall have greater pleasure in reading that en tertaining book Quentin Durward, now that I know so much more about Louis XI. • Mrs. M. The historical parts of that very delightful novel must not be read as real history, for the ingenious author has not thought it necessary to adhere critically to fact, and has in many places accommodated the history to his story, instead of giving himself the trouble to make his story accommodato itself to history. The character of Louis, which forms so conspicuous a part of the book, is drawn throughout in a very masterly manner, and is evidently taken from the memoirs of Comines. Richard. Will you be so kind as to read us a little of Comines's book ? It must be very entertaining. Mrs. M. You shaU have a part of his account of the king's last illness. " Our king was now at Plessis, with little company but his archers : — to look upon him one would have thought him rather a dead than a living man ; he was grown so lean, it was scarce credible. " His clothes were now richer and more magnificent than they had been before ; his gowns were all of crimson satin, lined with rich martens' furs, of which he gave to several, without being demanded ; for no person durst ask a favor, or scarce speak to him of any thing. He inflicted very severe pun- ishments, for fear of losing his authority, as he himself told me He removed officers, disbanded soldiers, retrenched pensions, and sometioaes took them away quite. So that, as he told me not many days before his death, he passed his time in making and ruinino men ; which he did in order to be talked Dosv.] LOUIS XI. a? I of, and that his subjects might take notice he was not yel dead." George. That was a mighty singular amusement for a dying man, methinks. Mary. There was something very melancholy in the death of the duke of Burgundy. I could not help being very sorry for him. Mrs. M. It was scarcely possible for two human beinga to be more totally opposite than were Charles and Louis ; they had only one common quality, and that was ambition. Ricliard. And even their ambition was very different. In Louis it was thriving and prosperous, and in Charles it was every thing that was ruinous. Mrs. M. The riches and prosperity of the Netherlands, before that country was ruined by the misconduct of Charhjs, exceeded that of any other people of Europe. Bruges, Ant- werp, ajid Arras, which last city was famous for its tapestry, were the staples of the northena nations. The dukes of Bur- gundy were more powerful than many kings, and their courts were the most splendid in Europe. After the battle of Nancy, an immense quantity of the rich spoil of the Burgundians fell into the hands of the Swiss, who unaccustomed to the refinements of luxury, did not know what to do with it. They garnished their miserable huts with pieces of beautiful and costly embroidery : and so little knowl- edge had they of gold, that many of them bartered pieces of that valuable metal for copper, which they esteemed the more useful of the two. Richard. They were probably very happy in their igno ranee. Mrs. M. There is a singular history relating to a diamond which once belonged to Charles of Burgundy. The story is this. Charles wore this valuable jewel in his hat at the bat- lie of Nancy. It was found among the spoil by a Swiss sol- dier, who sold it to a French gentleman of the name of San- cy. In his family it remained above a hundred years, until a descendant of the family, who was captain of the Swiss soldiers in the service of Henry III., was employed by that monarch to procure him a reinforcement of soldiers from Switzerland. The king, being driven from his throne by a league which was formed against him among his subjects, was so totally without resources, that he was unable to send any money for the payment of the troops. He therefore bor rowed fancy's family jewel, v hich was to be sent into Swit 275 CHARLES VIII. [Chap. XXIT gerland a& a pledge. Sancy sent the diamond by tine of hi» own servants, but he and the diamond both disappeared. . The king reproached Sancy for his creduhty in trusting so valuable a treasure to a menial ; and he, piqued both for his own credf I and that of his servant, in whose fidelity he had imphcit. re- liance, set out in search of him. He found that he had been waylaid and murdered, and that his body was concealed in a forest. Sancy, still confident in the poor fellow's zeal and in- legrity, caused the body to be disinterred and opened ; when it was found that, to preserve the jewel from the robbers, he had sAvallowed it. This diamond, which went by the name of " the Sancy," afterward became the property of the crown It was stolen in the general wreck of French royalty at the revolution, and no one now knows what has become of it. Mary. I only hope it will never come into my possession I should not like to wear an ornament having such a melan- choly history, and which seemed to bring misfortune on all who possessed it. ^ CHAPTER XXIV. CHARLES VIIL, SURNAMED THE AFFABLE. [Years after Christ, 1483—1498.] A COCRTIER OF THE FIFTEENTH CeNTURY. ChARIES VIII. As Charles was in his fourteenth year, and might, according to the French law, have been considered old enough to rule alone, the late king had not appointed a regency. In consid- A..D 1488.] CHARLES Vlll 27i eration, however, of his son's weak health and bacz\ wa i dness of mind, he placed him under the guardianship of the lady of Beaujeu. The princes of the blood, and more particularly the dulie of Orleans, jealous of the power which Anne thus acquired, called an assembly of the states at Tours, with the hope of displacnig her. Contrary to their expectation, the states confirmed her authority ; but to pacify the nobles, a council of ten, of wnich the duke of Orleans was to be the head, was appointed to as- sist her in the government. Arme soon showed this council that their office was merely nominal, and took into her own hands the whole management of affairs. She was a very clever, strong-headed woman, and possessed great talents, with perhaps a little too much of her father's politic spirit. Sne had not, however, his cunning or malevolence, and was, on the whole, a very fine character. She was, at this ame, only twenty-two years old, but she cheerfully relinquished all the usual amusements of her age and sex, and gave herself up entirely to the business of the state. Her chief difficulty arose at first from the conduct of the duke of Orleans, who gave her many provocations, which she, having a high spirit, violently resented ; and at last, things came to that pass be- tween them, that Orleans, believing his liberty in danger, flea to the court of Bretagne, and put himself under the protection of the duke. Bretagne was, at that time, governed by Francis II., the last male descendant of John de Montford. He had no sons ; and the kings of France had begun to cast their eyes on that most desirable fief, which was now the only one whicn re- mained independent. The last descendants of the family of Blois had ceded to Louis XI. all their supposed claims on Bretagne, and the lady of Beaujeu and her young brother, who was early awakened to ambition, held themselves in readiness to urge these claims on the first opportunity. In tiirtherance of these designs, Charles entered into an alliance with some malcontent Bretons, and under pretense of assist- ing them, sent a large body of troops into Bretagne, who took possession of several towns for the king. The Bretons now saw their error in choosing such a dangerous ally. They reconciled themselves with their duke, and he, joining- his forces with theirs, assembled a numerous army, whicn en- countered the French near St. Aubin, July 28, 1488. The result of this battle was fatal to the Bretons. The duke of Orleans, who was fighting on their sid^, wa,s taken pri.soncr , 874 CHARLES VIII. [Chap. XXIV and the lady of Beaiijeu, who had not forgot her own par- ticular gm.dge, caused him to be closely imprisoned in the great tower of the castle of Bourges ;* and, to make his cap- tivity doubly sure, she had liim shut up every night in an iron cage. The duke of Br3tagne was completely broken down by hia defeat at Saint Aubin. He made peace with Charles on very disadvantageous terms, and died soon after, from the ef fects of vexation. He left two daughters, one of whom died soon after her father. His other daughter, Anne, now sole heiress of the duchy, was only thirteen years old, but she possessed a strong and vigorous mind far beyond her years, and conducted herself with wonderful firmness and rectitude under very difficult and trying circumstances. The Bretons were in no condition to contend in arms with the king of France, and were urgent with their young duchess to marry, and give them a legal protector. Some of them pressed her to fulfill an engagement which her father had made for her with the seigneur d'Albret, whose brother had married the heiress of Navarre. Others, who had been gained over to the French interest, solicited her to terminate all her diffi- culties by marrying Charles. Anne was herself averse to both these alhauces. D'Albret was old enough to be her grandfather, and was notorious for his bad temper ; and Charles she regarded with particular aversion, as the enemy of herself and her race. In this perplexity she resolved to choose for herself, and selected the archduke Maximilian from among the list of her siutors. The archduke's character for easy good-nature appears to have been one cause which pre- possessed her in his favor. The marriage took place, by proxy, in 1489. But either from indolence, which was always Maximilian's bane, or that he was beset by other more press- ing cares, he neither came to claim his bride, nor sent an} troops to her aid. Charles, meantime, was preparing to ad vance into Bretagne ; and Anne, receiving no succor Irom MaximiUan, apphed to Henry VII. of England, on whom she thought she had a claim of gratitude for the protection which her father had given him in his distress. But Henry was cautious and tardy ; and Anne saw that she would have to wait long for his assistance. In these circumstances Charles renewed his suit for her hand ; but Anne, in addition to her former reluctance to marry him, now felt herself the affianced wife of the archduk * Directly south of Paris near the center of France k.D. 1491.] CHARLES VJII. 2?i Charles, believing that the duke of Orleans might, from fais former acquaintance, have some influence with her, re- leased him from prison, and sent him into Bretagne. He himself soon followed with a numerous army, and encamped at the gates of Pi-ennes,* where the duchess was keeping ^er little court. Anne, thus neglected by her betrothed husband, and ill assisted by her cold ally, now began to waver in the purpose ehe had formed. Charles, through the intervention of Or- leans, entered the city iitcognito, and was admitted to see her. It might be said of Anne, as Shakspeare has said of her namesake, in his play of Richard III. — Was ever -woman in this liumor -woo'd f Was ever woman in this humor won ? The result of the conference was, that she consented to marry him. The determination was received by the Bretons with great satisfaction. They stipulated with Charles for the preservation of their laws and privileges, and the marriage took place December 10, 1491. Thus was Bretagne annexed to the crown, and the whole of France, after a lapse of many centuries, again united under one sovereign. Anne soon forgot her former prejudices against Charles ; she loved him for his many amiable qualities, and made him an excellent and af fectionate wife. Charles, at the time of his marriage, was twenty-two years old. He had, for some time past, withdrawn himself from the tutelage of hLs sister ; he, nevertheless, always contuiued to treat her with respect and affection, and, in matters of importance, would generally ask her advice ; though, unhap- pily for himself and his kingdom, he did not always follow it. This young prmce was of a gay, lively nature, but so thought- Less and inconsiderate, and so deficient in judgment, that though he seems to have set out in life with one of the best hearts in the world, he was continually guilty of very unjusti- fiable actions. One of his follies was that of being always eager after some new scheme, which he would pursue for a time with great ardor, and would then relinquish as inconsid- srately as he took it up. He commonly acted from the im- pulse of the moment, was seldom to be convinced by reason; and had an invincible repugnance to business. Notwith- standing these great defects, Charles made himself much be- ioved. He was generous and forgiving to excess ; and had so gentle a temper, that it is recorded of him, that he never, in * In the eastern part of Bretagne. 276 CHARLES VIII. fOHAP. XljtlV. the course of his hfe, said a single word which could give paiu to any human being. His faults might, in all probabil- ity, be attributed to his want of education. His early yeais had been passed in a kind of imprisonment in the castle of Amboise. His mean-spirited and jealous father, fearing that his son might at some time or other become his rival, gave him np instructors, and placed only low and unworthy persons about him. When he became king, he did not even know how to read. He endeavored afterward to supply the defi- ciencies of his education, and when he was about seventeen or eighteen years old, he applied diligently to study during several months. Then, either from the persuasions of hia young companions, who thought that a studious king would make a very dull master, or else from the changeableness of his own disposition, he threw aside his books, and gave him- self up to every kind of dissipation and frivolity. You may suppose that Charles's marriage with the duchesa of Bretagne caused both displeasure and surprise in Maxi- milian, whose daughter, you may remember, had been sent into France as Charles's affianced bride. Maximilian, there- lore, felt himself doubly injured both in his daughter's person and in his own ; but not being in a condition to declare war openly, he contented hijuself with taking the towns of St Omers and Arras* by stratagem, and entered into an alli- ance with Henry VII., who, at last, when it was too late, landed in France with a numerous force, and laid siege to Boulogne.! Charles, whose mind was now eagerly running on a new scheme, hastened to rid himself of these enemies, which ho did without much difficulty. Maximilian was pacified by receiving his daughter again, with all the towns that were to have been her dower ; and Henry, who was no warrior, glad iy relinqviished his projected conquest in France for a con art of Frarcc. t On the coast, northwest of Calais. A.D. 1494.1 CHARLES Vlll. 277 GaleazzOj the reigning duke of Milan, and waited lo destroy his nepliew, and get possession of the duchy for himself. lie was, however, prevented from making any attempt against the young duke by the fear of drawing upon himself the ven- geance of Ferdinand, king of Naples, whose granddaughter Galeazzo had married. He therefore gladly fanned the flame of ambition which perhaps his arts had first lighted in the in considerate mind of Charles, and encouraged him to make ai invasion of Naples. Jt was in vain that the lady of Beaujeu, or the duchess of Bourbon, as she was now become, by the death of the loi'd of Beaujeu's elder brother, and all Charles's other most prudent advisers, represented to him the folly and madness of such a scheme. He was obstinately bent upon it. During two years it was the constant subject of debate in the royal coun- cil. At last, after many changes of plans, it was finally de- termined upon, and the king accordingly set out on this great enterprise in the autumn of 1494, but with so little prepara- tion that he could only collect an army of 18,000 troops, with little money and with no provisions for a campaign. Besides these troops, indeed, he was accompanied by a great number of young noblemen, who served as volunteers — a class of soldiers which might perhaps be useful in a day ot' battle, but which were a hinderance rather than a help in a long campaign, as being less able to endure fatigue, and less willing to submit to control, than the regular army. The Italian princes had had ample notice of the intended mvasion, and might easily have crushed it ; but they trusted that it would end in mere idle talk, and therefore made but little preparation against it. Ferdinand, king of Naples, and his son Alfonso, duke of Calabria, were men of the most notorious vices, as was also the pope, Alexander VI., and it seemed (to quote the words of Mezerai) " as if God had blindfolded their eyes and tied down their hands, and raised up this young prince to chastise them, who came with a smaU force, and was governed by a brainless council." Charles crossed the Alps, and reached Asti, in Piedmont. Here he fell ill of the smaL-pox, which detained him some time. By the end of October he was sufficiently recovered to continue his march ; but when he arrived at Turin hia reso irces were so completely expended, that he waa obliged to borrow the duchess of Savoy's and the marchioness of Montferrat's jewels, to raise money «n th«wi to pay liia trwpii 278 CHARLES VIII. [CiiAh XX1% At Vigevano Charles was joimsd by his faithless ally Lude vigo Sforza, who staid with him till he was assured of the success of a dose of poison, which he had a short time befoic; found means to give to his nephew. As soon as he heard that Gateazzo was dead, he hastened to Milan and took pos Bes-sion of the dukedom, in violation of the rights of the infant son of the deceased duke. Galeazzo and Charles were sisters' children, and some of the council urged the king to proceed immediately to Milan to avenge his cousin's death and punish the usurper. But Charles's whole mind was set on conquering Naples, and he was not to be turned from it. He proceeded on his march^ and wherever he came he proclaimed himself " The friend of freedom, and the enemy of tyrants." Every gate was open- ed to him as he passed, and he was received in triumph into Florence and Rome. In Januar}^ 1495, he approached the confines of the Neapolitan territory. The old king Ferdi- nand was now dead, and had been succeeded by his son A.lfonso. When Alfonso heard that Charles had actually quitteJ Rome, and was advancing toward Naples, his terror was so excessive as in a manner to bereave him of his senses. While the French were yet many miles distant, he would fancy that he heard them in the streets, and that the very stones cried out, " France I France I" which was the war-cry of the French soldiers. He would not await their coming, and abandoning the throne to his son Ferdinand, he fled to Mes- sina, and shut himself up in a monastery. Here, without taking the vows, he practiced all the austerities of a monk, hoping thereby to expiate the sinfulness of his former life. The rigorous discipline which he imposed on himself occasion- ed disorders which soon terminated his miserable existence. Alfonso had amassed immense riches by every species of cruelty and fraud ; and it is singular that when he fled from Naples he showed no anxiety to save any thing except some garden-seeds. Ferdinand was a prince of great promise, and it was hoped that hi would retrieve the character of his family, which, foi several generations, had been notorious for its vices. When the French approached Naples, he marched to meet them at the head of his troops ; but at the first sight of the enemy he was seized with a sudden panic, and fled back to the town. The Neapolitans shut the gates against him, and the t«>rrified prince took refuse in the island of Jschia. A..D. 14950 CHARLES "V.Il SvS Charles in the mean time etiteretl Naples, and was re- ceived by the inhabitants as their deliverer from oppression Every place in the Neapolitan dominions, vv^ith the excep- tion of Brindisi, Heggio, and Gallipoli, yielded to him, and he achieved this great conquest without striking a single blow. This brilliant success absolutely turned the heads of the king and his council. Every kind of business and affair of state was neglected : nothing was thought of but diversions and feasting. Little care was taken to preserve the towns that had submitted. To some few, indeed, garrisons and a governor were sent ; but these persons, following the example of the king, were more occupied with their pleasures than with their duties. The soldiers lived at discretion, the stores were squandered, the inhabitants were ill treated, their goods pillaged, and their rights disregarded ; and the Neapolitans Ibund their new masters even worse than tlieir old ones, and that these professed friends of freedom were indeed very tyrants. The princes ua the other parts of Italy now began to re cover from the panic which the irruption of the French had thrown them into. The pope, the Venetians, and Ludovico Sforza, who now no longer needed the French, and wished to get rid of them, entered into a confederacy to drive them out of Italy. They were joined by Ferdinand, king of Aragon, and by Maximilian, who, by the death of his father, was now emperor of Germany. Philip de Comines was at that time at Venice on a mission from Charles, and he repeatedly warned his master of what was going on ; but Philip was too much immersed in amuse- ments to give heed to the warning, until the news reached him that a treaty had been actually signed by the confederate powers. He then thought it necessary to take care of him- self, and resolved to retrace his steps to France. About 4000 of his troops he left in Calabria and Naples, under the com- mand of the count d'Aubigny and of Gilbert de Bourbon duke ie Montpensier, to the last of whom he gave the title of viceroy of Naples. Charles departed on the 20th of May with his diminished army, and reached Pisa without meeting with any impediment. Here he halted for a reinforcement of 9000 men which he had ordered the duke of Orleans to bring from Asti. But after waiting twelve or fifteen days he learned that the duke of Orleans was in no condition to bring him the expjctfd succor, being closely blockaded by 98ft CHARLES VIII. 'Chap XXIV Sforza, in the town of Novara in the Milanese. The foi lowing was the cause of his being in that unfortunate pre dicament : Orleans, in right of his grandmother Valentina, had a claim to the duchy of Milan, and instead of leading the troops under his command to join the king, he could not resist a temptation which offered itself of making himself master of that town. He took the town, but before he had time to got it provisioned, he was shut up in it by Ludovico'a troops, and driven to the last extremities of famine. Charles having obtained some small reinforcements, which after all did not make his army exceed 90(J0 men, now push- ed forward toward Piedmont. His delay at Pisa had given the confederates time to concentrate their forces, which amounted to no less than 40,000 men, commanded by the marquis of Mantua. But even with this superior force the Italians did not venture to attack the French until they reached Fornova, where the confederate troops stationing themselves in a valley through which the French must nec- essarily pass, waited for their approach. Charles had here his first opportunity of showing himself to be a soldier. He came in view. of the enemy July 6th, 1495, and rushing for- ward with inconceivable bravery, he and his little army broke through their ranks and pursued their way, with the incon- siderable loss of only eighty men, leaving 3000 of the enemy slain. Nine days afterward he reached Asti, where he re- mained some time to refresh himself He here commenced a treaty with Sforza, who permitted the duke of Orleans to leave Novara. Charles, although the most generous and for- giving of men, never thoroughly forgave Orleans for letting his private interests interfere with his public duty, and ever afterward treated him with a degree of coolness. Heartily weary of mihtary enterprises, and impatient to enjoy the pleasures of peace at home, tlie king scarcely staid to con elude his treaty with Sforza, and hastened i.o Lyons, where, forgetting all weightier cares, he plunged into every kind of dissipation. In the mean while Ferdinand of Naples had issued from his retreat at Ischia. He applied to Ferdinand, king of Ara- gon, to assist him in expelling the French from the Neapolitan dominions, and that monarch sent him a body of Spanish troops, commanded by Gonsalvo de Cordova, surnamecl " tha Great Captain." The French commanders made what re- sistance they could ; but receiving no reinforcements, were Boon overpowered. Ferdinand was reinstated in Naples, and A..D. 1496.] CHAELES VIII. 281 oefore the end of the year 1496 nothing remained of Charles's boasted conquests in Italy. These calamities roused the whole French nation to a de- sire of avenging the honor of their country ; and Charles was awakened from his dream of pleasure, and loudly calied on to lenew the war. He collected an army, and prepared to lar:e the command of it. Previous to his departure on this new expedition, he went to the abbey of Saint Denis, to take leave of the holy saints and martyrs who there lie bur- ied. He then proceeded as far as Lyons, on his way into Italy, and some of the advanced cavalry had already crossed the Alps, when suddenly the king's mind was changed, the enterprise was suspended, and afterward was wholly laid aside. Many different causes are given for this relinquish ment of the Italian war. Some persons attribute it to the king's displeasure with the duke of Orleans, who, it is said, could not conceal his satisfaction at the death of the king's only son, who died about this time ; but perhaps the change of plans may be sufficiently accounted for by the natural fickleness of Charles's temper, and the increasing feebleness of his health, which made him unequal to any active exertion. The king now pursued an entirely new course of conduct. He forsook all his former frivolous diversions, and seemed de- sirous to live only for the good of his people ; he set about reforming the abuses of the government ; he established a supreme council ; he dismissed all unjust judges and un- worthy persons from their offices ; he attended personally to the complaints of the poor ; he also meditated making a great redaction in the taxes, and it was his intention to have limit- ed his expenditure within the revenues derived from the royal domains, and from the ancient rights of the croAvn. But be- fore he could execute these good resolutions his life was sud- denly cut short. One day, when he and the queen were at Amboise,* some of the noblemen of the court were diverting then\selves Vv^ith playing at tennis in the fosse of the castle. Charles led the queen into a gallery from whence she could see the players. The doorway of this gallery, which Comines describes as uothing more than a dirty passage-room, was very low, and tlie king in entering struck his head against it. He, how- ever, took no notice of the blow, but entered into conversation v/ith the persons assembled there. To one of them he said, that he h/iped ne^-sr to commit another willful sin a.* long ai * East of Tours. «82 CHARLES VIIL [Chap. XXIV he lived. While he was speaking these words, he was sud- denly seized with a sort of apoplexy, and fell down without sense or motion. He was laid upon a pallet bed which hap- pened to be in the place, and expired in a ^w hours. He was in the twenty-eighth year of his age, and had reigned fifteen years. He married Anne of Bretagne, by whom he had three children, who all died in their infancy. Charles had a very indifferent figure, and, with the excep- tion of his eyes, which were sharp and brilliant, liis face was exceedingly plain. His speech also was defective, and he spoke slowly and with ditficulty ; but the kindness of his manner and the sprightliness of his humor made these, as well as the more serious faults of his character, to be over- looked ; and never was any man more beloved. It is even said, that two of his attendants were so much overwhelmed with grief at his death, that when they saw his body com- mitted to the grave they dropped down dead. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XXIV. Richard. I think the conquest of Naples, by Charles was one of the most extraordinary things you have yet told us. What a set of poltroons those Italian princes must have been to let him march with a mere handful of men from one end of Italy to the other, and back again, without making any attempt to stop him, till just at the very last I IS/Lrs,. MarkhaTTb. Philip de Comines, in his account of the expedition, declares, that " the whole expedition was a mystery conducted by God himself" George. I am very glad we have not yet lost sight of our old friend Comines. Mrs. M: Poor Comines experienced a variety of fortune&. In the minority of Charles VIII., he fell under the displeas- ure of the lady of Beaujeu, who kept him prisoner during three years, the greater part of which time lie was shut up in an iron cage. Mary. What had he done to offend her ? Mo'S. M. He had entered into a secret correspondence with the duke of Orleans, who was then an exile in Bretagne. The king, when he took the reins of government into his own hands, restored Ccmines to favor, and employed him on sev- eral important occasions. He was present at the battle of Fomova, and has given a full account of it. Gcorg". Perhaps he has told rs how it was that 90 OQ C^mv.] CHARLES VIII. 283 French could make their way through an army of 40,000 ttaHans, and with scarcely any loss. Mrs. M. Several causes combined to favor the escape of the French. The valley Was only a mile and a half v/ide, and the enerr^y's troops w ere hemmed in, and hampered by their own numbers. Their thirst of plunder was also another cause of their overthrow ; for instead of opposing the ad- vanced troops of the French, the Italians were more intent m falling on the baggage in the rear, which they completely pillaged. Charles, on this occasion, not only lost all his Italian T •] HENRY II %2i Richard. Pray, mamma, why were the French Protestants called Hugonots ? Wrs. M. The common opinion is, that they derived thia name from the Hugo gate at Tours, near which the early re- formers held their nocturnal astemhlies ; but Mezerai and others say, that the name comes from an old Swiss word, which signifies a league, or covenant. Hichard. Are there different sects among the Catholics as there are among the Protestants ? Mrs. M. They will not allow, I believe, that there are any different sects ; but there are, at all events, gi'eat diversi- ties of opinion. In the reign of Fraiicis I. there arose a new religious ordei — that of the Jesuits. The founder of this order was Igna- tius Loyola, a Spanish gentleman, who, having been severely wounded in an engagement between the French and Span- iards in Navarre, beguiled the tedious hours of his confine- ment with reading the Lives of the Saints. The study of this book gave a serious turn to his mind, and determined him to abandon the profession of arms, and to aim at the glory of founding a new order in the church. Loyola was a man of a very ardent character, and the rules of his order are framed with extraordinary art, and consummate knowledge of man- kind. He soon procured many followers, and prevailed with the pope, Paul III., to grant a bull confirming the new insti- tution. George. Then I suppose the next thing he did was tn build a monastery ? Mrs. M. The Jesuits had, properly speaking, no monas- teries. They had houses to dwell in, and. a great number of colleges, which were very excellent seminaries for youth The members of this order were not required to live in cells, or to occupy themselves with that routine of pious exercises which forms the chief business of those who are properly monks. The business of the Jesuits was to live in the world, and to disperse themselves in different places, that they might so spread the more extensively, both by precept and example, the knowledge and the love of religion. Gsorge. And surely that was the way to do more goG{] than by living shut up in a cell. Mrs. M. The Jesuits have, doubtless, in their time done much good, particularly in the continent of South America iff here they found a noble field for their pious endeavors ; and in those parts especially, where the cruelty and avarice f ♦ S26 .lENRY II. [Chap. XXVIT llie Spanish and Porti:;guese settlers had tended to brutalize the human character, the mild and benignant influence oi the Jesuits has shed a ray of humanity over the gloomy scene. But when they exchanged the desert for the court, they became different men. Their policy was very subtle and msinuating, and they were often at the bottom of state plots and intrigues. At length they incurred an almost universal distrust, which, as all opinions run naturally into extremes, was probably carried farther than it could be justified. Richard. Had they an abbot, or any person they called their head ? Mrs. M. Their head had the name of general. He had a very despotic authority, and appointed all the other officers, of whom some were called rectors, and others provincials ; but they were all under the absolute control of the general. Richard. If he was a bad man, and abused his power, had the others any remedy ? Mrs. M. They might appeal to the pope, who was con- sidered as their supreme head ; but no instance ever occurred, I believe, of such an appeal being made. They were careful to admit no members who were not possessed of considerable abilities, and likely to promote the interests of their order. George. How did they manage to have only clever m3n among them ? Mrs. M. The noviciates were very long and very strict. No person was admitted into the order tilL he was thirty- three years old. And so much was required of every candi- date by the rules, that only men of superior intellect and acquirements could aspire to belong to it. The Jesuits applied themselves particularly to the education of youth, and ac- quired an influence over the minds of their pupils which, in very many instances, continued through their lives. They aad no large estates, nor independent revenues. They coveted neither riches nor luxuries : all they aimed at was power and influence. And they understood their business so weU, that they at length made their way into the councils of every Cath- olic prince of Europe. The influence of the Jesuits increased to so great a degree, that the order was abolished in the year 1773. It was again restored, a very few years ago. M'xry. I was just going to ask you, before we began talk- ing about the Jesuits, if the terrible accident that happened to the king did not put an en 1 to tournaments. Mrs. M. The kings of the Valois family were too passion# atelv attached to that Koecies of diversion to let any considop bi.N?.] HENRY II. 32» ition make them forego it. Tournaments were freqaejit in the re gn of Charles IX., who was severely wounded in the foot at a tournament. The last entertainment of the kind in France was during the reign of Henry IV., when a grandson of the duke of Guise wounded severely the inarechal Bassom pierre. Mary. The riding at the ring must have been much the most agreeable and the least dangerous of all those games. Mrs. M. The low and mean habits of the unhappy sons of Henry II. introduced a degraded taste into their court. The manly exercise of tilting was turned into a vulgar piece of buffoonery, by the duke de Nemours and the grand prior of Lor raine, who, at a tilting at the ring in the reign of Francis II., appeared in the dress of women. The duke was attired like a citizen's wife, with a silver chain and a large bunch of keys hanging from his girdle, such as were then worn by women of the middle class, the jingling of which as he rode " afforded great sport to the spectators." The prior was dressed like a gipsy woman, and carried in his arms an ape dressed in baby clothes, which afforded even more sport than the bunch of keys. RicJiard. I have hardly patience to hear of dukes and priors making such fools of themselves. Mrs. M. After the commencement of the civil wars, by which the minds of men were wrought up to a pitch of san- guinary fury, these childish sports and burlesque trials at arms gave way to contests of a very different sort. Single combats then became frequent, which usually ended fatally, it being customary for the combatants to fight in their shirts, to obvi- ate all suspicion of wearing concealed armor. George. I should think if that was the fashion now, it would soon put an end to duels. Richard. The more I think of the emperor Charles V. retiring from the world, the more extraordinary it seems. Mis. M. Charles in his latter years was a great sufferer from the gout. Exertion of every kind was often extremely painful to him, and he appears to have meditated on his re- tirement long before he put the design in execution. Mary. Where did he retire to ? Mrs. M. To the monastery of St. Justus, not far from Plasencia, in Estremadura. Several years before, in passing through the country, Charles had been charmed with its beau- tiful situation. The impression dwelt on his mind ever after and determined him to make this the place of his retreat Ha 328 HENRY II. LChai>. XXV IK had no sooner gone through the ceremonials tf his abdication, which he made in the Low Countries, than he set sail foi Spain. He was accompanied by his two sistars, Mary, queen of Hungary, and Eleanor, widow of Francis I. Soon after he landed he dismissed all his train, except twelve gentlemen, whom alone he would suffer to follow him in his retreat Mary. I hope he let his sisters go with him. Mrs,. M. They anxiously desired to do so, but he would not permit it. They settled near him, however, and the grave soon united them. Charles died in 1558, and his sis- ters did not long survive him. George. Did the emperor live in a cell as the monks did ? Mrs. M. Previously to his arrival at the monastery, he had caused an addition to be made to it of six apartments for his accommodation. These apartments were built and furnish ed more in reference to the condition in which he now placed himself than to his former dignity. The two largest rooms were only twenty feet square : they were hung with brown cloth : on one side they communicated with the chapel, and 'on the other with a small garden, which the emperor culti- vated with his own hands. The other four rooms were mere cells with bare walls. Richard. Did he ever seem to grow tired of his retire- ment ? Mrs. M. It does not appear that he ever did. The salu- brity of the air, for which the spot he had chosen was much celebrated, and the absence of carking care, procured him at first so great a remission of his disorder, as to amply reward him for the sacrifice of his greatness. He employed himself sometimes in his garden, and sometimes in making models of machines and in mechanical experiments. He would occa sionally ride out on a little palfrey. These were his amuse- ments ; but he at length totally discontinued them, and occu- pied his whole time in religious exercises. At last his health declined rapidly, and the nearer death approached, the more vividly would the sins of his former fife rise to his terrified remembrance. It seemed an alleviation to his wounded con- science to inflict upon himself severe corporal punishment, and after his death his whip of cords was found stained with his blood. A few days before he died, he went through a singu- lar act of penance. He performed the whole ceremony of big iuneral, except the interment. He laid himself in his cofiin, dressed in his shroud, and the service for the dead was per- formed over him, in which he himself joined^ with prayers and ONV.J HENRY II. 329 tears, showing every sign of a deep repentance and a feivent devotion. RicJiard. It must have heen a very affecting solemnity tc the spectators. Yet still I can not help thinking that hb would have shoAvn a still hetter repentance, if, instead of shut- ting himself up in a monastery and practicing these austeri- ties, he had continued to reign, and had spent the end of his life in trying to promote his peojle's happiness, and making what amends he could for the sin^ of his early life. Mrs. M. If he had done so, it would have been much better for his people ; and more particularly as his son, Philip II , bad all his faults with fev/ of his redeeming virtues, and was by his bigotry and cruelty the scourge of Europe during the long period of forty years. George. I saw, in looking over one of your books, some account of Philip's building a palace to celebrate the battle of Saint Quentin. Mrs. M. That was the palace of the Escurial, which he built in perfo-Traance of one of the two vows which he made during the batfle. He then vowed to St. Lawrence (on whose day, August 10, the battle was fought), that he would, if he escaped, build a palace in honor of him. This palace, because of the tradition that that saint was broiled to death Gil a gridiron, was kid out in the form of a gridiron. It was a magnificent, but not a beautiful structure, and has lately been destroyed by an accidental fire. Mary. Pray, mam*»ka, what was Philip's other vow ? Mrs. M. His other vow. wh-'cb al-so h© religiously kept, was, that if he escaped v^tiv \^h iv*i cf \\k-< h\''\\o, he would uever be present at anotbt^r (CHAPTER XXVIII. FRANCIS ir. [Years after Christ, 1559—1560.1 Claudb and Francis, Dukes of Guise. Jd"iiANCis was between sixteen and seventeen years old wJien the unexpected death of his father placed him on the throne. The kingdom was at that juncture in a very deplorable state. There had not as yet been time for the newly contracted peace to heal the disorders occasioned by the long war. The introduction of the reformed religion had excited a general ferment, and had caused breaches and divisions in all orders of society. The court was spht into factions. The two prin cipal factions, and these hated each other rancorously, were those of the duke of Guise, and of his great rival the constable Montmorenci. The king, from his youth, and his evident in- capacity, could afford no promise of any effectual support to the sinkmg fabric of the state. He and his three young brothers were at this time the sole remainmg male descendants of the house of Valois. The next princes of the blood were Anthony de Bourbon and his brothers, who traced their ronnection with the royal family as far back as St. Louis, their descent being from Robert de Clermont, that monarch's youngest son, who mar- ried the heiress of Bovrbon. Anthony himself was not a man k.D. 1.659.J FRANCIS II. 331 who could act a prominent part. He was caby and good-na tured, of great personal bravery, but of no firmness or decision of character, and easily swayed by the merest trifle. He had married Jane d'Albret, the only child of Henry d'Albret and of Margaret of Valois, sister to Francis I. By that marriage he gained the title of king of Navarre, an almost barren dig- nity. His two brothers were, Charles, cardinal de Bourbon, a man of feeble capacity, and Louis, prince of Conde, who seemed to concentrate in his person all the ability of the family ; but he, having embraced the reformed religion, was entirely ex- cluded from all influence at court. The party of the duke of Guise was soon perceived to as- sume a decisive superiority over every other. That prince's near relationship to the young queen of France made Jiim formidable even to the queen-mother herself, who was jealous of his power, even when she professed to unite with him. The influence of Montmorenci was in the mean time gradually weakened by the divisions which sprung up in his family. His nephews, Coligni and d'Andelot, became Hugonots ; and he himself, in abhorrence of their heresy, at length united himself with the duke of Guise. The duke, who was by na ture humane and generous, was induced by the cardinal of Lorraine, his brother, whose bigotry was extreme, to persecute the Hugonots with furious zeal ; and great numbers of them suffered death for their religion. The burning chambers,* which had this horrid name given them because they inflicted on heretics the punishment of burning to death, were institute\i at this time in France. The people murmured at the authority usurped by the Guises. They even affected to consider them as foreigners, who had no right to interfere in the affairs of France ; and several plots, chiefly fomented by the Hugonots, were formed to displace them. The most considerable of these plots was called the conspiracy of Amboise, the object of which was to seize on the duke's person while he was with the royal family at Amboise, a town on the Loire. The plot being discovered and fmstrated, the parties concerned in it were punished with unex- ampled severity. Several were put to death, and their bodies fastened on iron hooks round the walls of the castle of Amboise ^ which the king and queen were at that time inhabiting. The :[ueen-mother herself, and the ladies of the court, had the bar barity to look out from the windows of the castle at some of ^e crudest of these exacutions. The prince of Conde w^ Chambres ardentes. 532 FRANCIS II L^has XiLVIll charged with being concerned in this plot, but vindicated himself with so much eloquence and apparent truth, that the duke and cardinal could find no plea for condemning him, and were obliged to suffer him to depart unmolested. He and his brother, the king of Navarre, retired mto Gui enne, and kept aloof from the court, but continued to keep up a secret correspondence with the Hugonots in difieieait parta of the kingdom. This correspondence being discovered, the duke of Guise in the king's name convened an assembly of the states-general at Orleans, to which the king of Navarre and the prince were summoned to answer for their conduct Their friends entreated them not to go, but they thought that, if they refused, it would appear Like an acknowledgment of guilt ; and they accordingly went to Orleans. Immediately on their arrival they went to the castle to pay their respects to the royal family. Guise, as if impatient to secure his prey, had them arrested at the instant of their departure from the king's presence. The prince of Conde was brought imme diately to trial, and was condemned to be beheaded. The only honest minister at that time in France was the chancellor I'Hopital. He, amidst the corruption of the times, had preserved his integrity wholly inviolate, and had on many occasions used his best endeavors to oppose the violent and pernicious counsels of the Guises. He had been successful in preventmg them from establishing the inquisition in France, and now exerted himself to save the prince of Conde. The count de Sancerre also refused to sign the warrant for his ex- ecution. This refusal, and the delays which the chancellor contrived to interpose, saved Conde 's life. For while hia existence was thus hanging by a thread, the unlooked-for death of the king made a sudden change in the aspect of af- fairs, and delivered him from the grasp of his enemies. The Guises saw their court influence annihilated, and knew that the queen mother would have a predominating ascendency during the minority of the next king, who was now a boy. The death of Francis was occasioned by an abscess in the head, which was not at first apprehended to be of any dan- gerous consequence ; but, after some days, the symptoms ap- peared to indicate his imminent and inevitable death. Nothing could now exceed the confusion and consternation of the court ; the courtiers hurrying backward and forward ; the duke and cardinal paying obsequious attention to the queen-mother, whom they had before slighted ; and Catherine, forgetting ihe sufferings of her dying son, and thinking only how best to A..D. 156'J.J FRANCIS II. 33a secure her orp t authority. The Guises endeavored to prevaL with her to seize on the king of Navarre, who, though not absolutely a ppsoner, was detained at Orleans, and to put him and his brother Instantly to death. But I'Hopital was fortu- nately able to persuade her that they were her only counter- poise against the predominance of the house of Lorraine Catherine sent for the king of Navarre, and after assuring him that she had taken no part in the trial and intended execution of his brother, ofiered him her friendship on two conditions : the first, that he would forego the claim to the regency, which he possessed in quality of first prince of the blood ; and the second, that he would be reconciled to the Guises. Anthony complied readily with her first request, but was with difficulty prevailed on to agree to the second. Francis died, December 5, 1560, at the age of nearly eighteen years, having reigned one year and five months. His next brother, Charles, Avho was then in the eleventh year of his age, was declared his successor. Francis married Mary Stuart, queen of Scotland, but had no children. T have not before mentioned to you, that a council was summoned at Trent in the year 1545, for the regulation of the church and extirpation of heresy. This council, the de- crees of which are commonly considered as the authorized exposition of the Catholic doctrines, continued its sittings at different intervals till the year 1564, when it was dissolvo'i. G.iTE OF THE Town of Moret near FomtainbslbaO 334 FKANCIS II. [Chap. XXVIU. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XXVIII. 'Richard. I shall be curious to seeliow this cunning queen Catherine got on in the next reign. Mrs. Markham. Catherine had great talents, hut she had no enlargement of mind. Her whole thoughts centered in self. To acquire power, and retain it, was the sole aim of all her actions. But eyen her views of her own interest were bounded vieM's ; she never looked beyontl the present moment, and forgot that there was a future, both as regarded this world and the next. Hence she was often entangled in her own nets. She looked upon deceit and dissimulation as wis- dom and policy. She never acted with sincerity, and her whole life was one continued tissue of artifices. Gecn-ge. I dare say she got no good by them ; for I know that when I try to be cunning, I never find it answer. Mis. M. The history of Catherine de Medicis presents, aa you will find in the sequel, a very striking example of the anxieties and embarrassments which insincerity causes. It may, however, be said in her excuse, that her early Hfe was passed amid difficulties and dangers, which must have too much famiharized her to the intrigues and vices of dishonest politicians. Mary. Will you tell us, if you please, something of hex early history ? Mrs. M. She was the daughter of Lorenzo, duke d'Urbino (a grandson of the great Lorenzo de Medicis), and was born at Florence during a scene of perpetual tumults between the friends and enemies of that powerful family. When Cathe- rine was about nine years old, all the Medicis were banished except herself. She was detained as a kind of hostage. At the end of two years, the city was besieged, and a factious chief proposed that she should be placed on the walls, and ex- posed to the fire of the besiegers. Mary. And was she ? Mrs. M. If she had been, it might have saved France many miseries. But the proposal was rejected with the ut- most horror. At the age of fourteen, she was married to Henry, who was then 'duke of Orleans, his brother, the dau- phin, being at that time alive. I have already given you some account of her farther history down to the death of Francis II. George. Was she the same queen Catherine de Medicis who had all the Protestants nrassacred on St. Bartholomew's day ! CoNv.] FEANOIS It 33 J Mrs. M She was. She had a feehng of personal hatred to every Protestant, independently of her zeal for the Catholic rehgion. She always attributed the death of the kirig, hei nusband, not so much to accident as to a precoiicerted plan of the Hugonots. For this suspicion there was not, I believe the least foundation ; but she was herself so unprincipled, ana 6o void of all good feelings, that she was the more prone to think evil of others. I should add, that, though she had no good quahties, she yet had some great ones. She had a taste for literature, and encouraged men of letters. She loved mag- nificence, and promoted all ingenious and hberal arts ; she had an uncommon degree of personal courage, and possessed such an extraordinary evenness of temper and so much self-com- mand, that she never on any occasion lost her presence of mind She was by nature cruel, and at the same time had a taste for all those gayeties and refinements of life which are supposed to have the effect of softening the disposition. She was both avaricious and profuse, and united in her character the most discordant and contradictory qualities that ever woman possessed. Mary. Did she show her wickedness by her countenance ? Mrs. M. Her face was as deceitful as her mind. She had a calm and composed exterior. See was fat and veiy fair, with fine eyes, and was altogether a very handsome and en gaging-looking woman. George. I can not tell why it is, but there seems some- thing quite revolting in such a wicked woman's being so hand some. Mary. You would not have badness and ugliness always go together ? Richard. I think they often do go together : at least all people look ugly when they are angry, and most people look handsome, to my way of thinking, when they are good humored. Mrs. M. Catherine was very vain of her beauty, and, in particular, of the symmetry of her hands and arms. She had also very well turned ankles, and was at some pains to show them, and was the first person in France who wore tight silk stockings. Indeed, amid all her political cares, the care of the toilet took up much of her time and thoughts, and her dress was remarked as generally graceful and becoming. She was a great huntress, and introduced, and, if I mistake not invented, the side-saddle. Ladies of raiJc in France; tUl then, rode on a kind of pad, with a board sus jended lirom it for the S36 FBANCIS II. [Chap. XXV IH feet to rest on. She had some severe falls from her horse in hunting. She at one time broke her leg, and another time fractured her skull, and was trepanned. Mary. And did not that cure her of hunting ? Mrs. M. Her passion for it was incurable, and continued even in her old age. Her belief in magic was equally incura- able. She constantly wore a cabalistic charm written on parchment made from the skm of a child. She was in the constant habit of applying to astrologers, and had a restless curiosity to pry into futurity. One astrologer told her that all hex sons would be kings. George. I dare say he said so because he thought it would please her ambition. Mrs. M. Instead of pleasing her, it grieved her, for it led her to fear that they were all destined to die young, and to succeed each other as kings of France. She therefore used every art to avert that doom and yet to make the presage true, by procuring for her two younger sons other crowns. She succeeded in getting that of Poland for one, but tried in vain to get that of England for the other, by a marriage with queen Elizabeth. Richard. Our queen Elizabeth was as cunning as she was. Mrs. M. Another astrologer had told Catherine that she should die at a place called St. Germains. She therefore carefully avoided all places of that name, and actually aban- doned the Tuileries, a splendid palace which she had built for her own residence, because she discovered that it stood in the parish of St. Germains. George. I don't doubt that Catherine was veiy clever, but at the same time she must have been very silly. Mrs. M. The proudest human mind can not support the load of life without something to lean on ; and those who have cast away their trust in the God of mercy are the most prone to put their faith in spirits of darkness. Mary. When you told us of those people who were burned alive for their religion, I could npt help wondering how any body could have the courage to be a Hugonot. Mrs. M. Those martyrs to their religion were doubtless supported by faith and zeal ; and the remembrance of the suf- ferings of their blessed Master the better enabled them to en- dure the extremities of their torture. In those terrible times, the indiscriminate rage of persecution seemed to spare nobody, A.ny person 'vhile at their devotions in a bam at Vassy, were insulted by the servants of the duke of Guise, who was traveling through the place. An affray ensued, in which the duke, while en- deavoring to quell the tumult, received a blow in the face from a stone. His servants, exasperated at seeing their mas- ter thus wotuided, attacked the Hugonots, and killed several of them. The Hugonots interpreted the massacre of these peasants as a premeditated commencement of hostiUties, and as a signal to arm. The prince of Conde seized on the town of Orleans, and there established the chief seat of his party, and published a manifesto, calling on all good Protestants to assist him in the common cause. The Hugonots possessed themselves also of many other towns in different parts of the kingdom. They apphed for assistance to the English queen, and put the town of Havre into her hands, as a re quital for the succors which she engaged to send them. This was the commencement of those dreadful religious wars, to which all France was to become a prey for many years — wars which were carried on with the greatest animosity, tearing asunder all family and social ties, and exposing the wretched inhabitants to all the horrors of fire and of the sword. Me zerai says, " If any one were to relate all that passed at tins A.D. 15C2.^ CHARLES IX oil time ia difFereut parts of France, all the taking and retaking of towns — the infinity of little combats — the furies — the mas gacres, it would take up a great many volumes." I must pass over all but the most leading events. In 1562, Rouen,* which was in possession of the Hugonots, was besieged by the Catholics. During this siege, the king of Navarre received a wound, of which he soon after died, at Andelys, in his way to Paris. When he found himself dying, he sent an express to his queen, exhorting her to keep on hef puard, and on no account to trust herself at court. The garrison of Rouen was commanded by the count de Montgomeri. He defended the town with great spirit, but it was at last taken by assault, and was given up to pillage ; a circumstance which, to the best of my recollection, has no par- allel in the civil wars of England, but which is not unfre- queiit in those of France. When Rouen was taken, Mont- gomeri saved himself from falling into the enemy's hands by hurrying on board a galley. He promised liberty to the crew if they got him off. The crew rowed so vigorously that they broke through the chains which were placed across the Seine at Caudebec,t and landed him in safety at Havre. In the same year, a battle was fought at Dreux.J At the first onset, St. Andre was killed, and Montmorenci was taken prisoner. Some persons who fled, hastened to Paris with the intelligence that the Catholics were overthrown. The queen, who, perhaps, thought that the victory of the Hugonots was more to her advantage than any event which might increase the power of the house of Guise, only observed, with the ut- most levity, " Well, then, we must now say our prayers in French." But the fortune of the battle had in the mean time changed. The prince of Conde was taken prisoner, and Co- ligny, who then took the command of the Hugonots, was obliged to retire from the field. Conda was immediately con- veyed to the tent of the duke of Guise, who, seeming to for- get that any causes of animosity had subsisted between them, received him more as a guest than as a prisoner, and, as a mark of his confidence and friendship, made him sleep in the same bed with himself Conde afterward declared that • Guise slept as soundly as if his best friend, instead of his great- est enemy, was lying by his side ; but that, as for hir^isr if, ha had not closed his eyes all night. * Northwest of Paris, on the Seine. t Near the mouth of the Seine. { West of Paris, near the frontieV of Normandy. 342 CHARLES TX. [Chap XXIX 1x1 February, 1563, the Catholic army, under the command of the duke of GiLise, laid siege to Orleans. The town was on the point of being taken, when one evening, as the duke was returning to the camp irom a visit to his family, he re- ceived a mortal wound in the shoulder by a pistol-shot fired at him by a man named Poltrot. The duke instantly fell, smd the assassin, putting spurs to his horse, galloped ofl". After having ridden full speed the whole of the night, which was extremely dark, Poltrot supposed himself to be many miles from Orleans. But when daylight broke, he found him- self only about a mile from the spot from which he had first set out. His horse was unable to go a step farther, and he was constrained to seek shelter in a house, where, throwing himself on a bed, he soon fell asleep. In this state he was discovered, and being put to the torture, he accused several persons of having been his instigators, and, among others, the admiral Coligny. Coligny protested his irmocence, and de manded to be confronted with his accuser ; but this favor was denied him. Poltrot was put to death with savage cruelty Guise lived only six days after his wound ; but, before he died, he exhorted Catherine to make peace with the Hugo- nots. He left three sons, Henry, who succeeded him in his dukedom, the cardinal de Guise, and Charles, dulte de May enne. He had one daughter, married to the duke de Mont- pensier. The queen, in compliance with the dying advice of the duke of Guise, made peace with the Hugonots, and grant- ed them very favorable conditions. These conditions were never fulfilled, but hostilities did not break out again for above four years. Catherine made use of this interval to conduct the king on a royal progress to different parts of his kingdom, with a vie\*' to ascertain, if possible, the real strength of the Hugonots. At Bayonne, the royal party was met by Elizabeth, or, as she was called by the Spaniards, Isabella, queen of Spain, to whom Philip II. allowed the indulgence of a visit to her mother and brother. She was escorted by the duke of Alva, Philip's proud and cruel minister ; and Catherine, who often concealed under the cloak of festivities the most bloody and relentless purposes, is believed to have held with him secret conferences, which had for their object the extirpation of the Protestants. But, with all Catherine's art, she could not avert the suspicion which justly attached both to her measures and her character. The Protestants had long observed that; though she had often made them flattening promises, yet thesa !v.]) 150?. I CHARLES IX 34^ promises were never performed. Perpetual outrages Mere committed by the Catholics both on their persons and their property. The duke of Alva, after the meeting at Bayonne, was appointed to the command of a numerous army in the liow Countries, now in a state of revolt against Philip's au- thority. He VI as the known enemy of their religion : he might easily enter France and liirther the designs of the queen-mother against them. Thus goaded by past, and apprehensive of future injuries, the Hugonots flew to arms in 1567. Their first enterprise was an imsuccessful attempt to possess themselves of the per- son of the young king, who was then at Meaux.* They next proceeded to Paris, which they held in blockade during eight days. The constable Montmorenci had the command of the city ; and the Parisians, impatient under the restraints of a blockade, obliged him, contrary to his judgment, to march out and attack the enemy, who were exceedingly infe- rior in numbers. The two armies encountered in the plain of St. Denis, and the Hugonots were worsted ; but the victo- ry was dearly bought by the death of the constable, who, although in the seventy-fifth year of his age, fought with the courage and activity of youth. Even when at last he fell covered with wounds, he had so much vigor left, that, by a blow with the pommel of his sword, he beat out some of the teeth, and broke the jawbone, of Robert Stewart, a Scots- man, who had given him his last and mortal wound. To Catherine herself, the death of Montmorenci was a sub- ject rather of rejoicing than of regret. She had now got rid of all whose influence she was afraid of, and hoped to rule undisturbed for the future. She persuaded the king not to appoint another constable, but to give the command of the royal armies to her third and favorite son, Henry, duke of Anjou. This prince was only sixteen years old, and was therefore placed under the guidance of the marechal Tavan- nes, an experienced and skillful general, who was in all Catherine's secrets, and had been long devoted to her service. He had even on one occasion carried his obsequiousness sc far, as to make her the offer to cut ofi^ the nose of her rival, the duchess of Valentinois. This offer, however, Catherine declined. After the battle of St. Denis, a peace was patched up with the Hugonots, but it was ill kept, and in a few months the wm broke out more furiously than ever. On March 13, 1569 * A short distance ea;t of Pai'U. 344 CHARLES IX. r^EiP. XXIX the two parties met on the banks of the rivtr Charente,-* nea.i the town of Jarnac. The royal army was nearly four timea stronger than that of the adversary. Conde entered the field of battle with his arm in a sling, from the effects of a former wound. Before the engagement commenced, a kick from a restive horse broke his leg ; but, undaunted by this accident, he made a short and animated harangue to his soldiers, and rushed forward against the enemy. The Hugonots fought with desperate courage, but, overpowered by superior num bers, were at length obliged to fly. Conde, as you may well suppose, was now unable to move, and was compelled to allow himself to be taken prisoner. He was lifted from his horse, and placed on the ground, under the shade of a tree. Here one of the captains of the duke of Anjou's guard basely cama behind him, and shot him "dead. He left three young sons, Henry, who succeeded as prince of Conde, the count of Sois- sons, and the prince of Conti. Henry, prince of Beam, now about sixteen years of age, th'j son of Anthony, late king of Navarre, was, on Conde's death, declared the head of the Protestants ; but, on account of his youth, the command of their forces was given to Coligny, Rochelle f was at this time one of their chief bulwarks, and here the queen of Navarre resided with her family, together with many of the principal leaders of the Hugonot cause. In the following October, the Catholics obtained another victory at Montcontour ; t but their opponents, though often beaten, were far from being subdued. In 1570, Coligny transferred the war into Burgundy, where he obtained the advantage. Peace was again made, and Coligny was sent for to court. He went reluctantly, and with hesitation, but the apparently cordial and sincere manner of the king soon effaced all unpleasant suspicions, and lulled him into secvirity. Some authors say, and we may, I hope, incline to believe them, that Charles was really sincere, and actually meant at the time to fulfill his professions. But the common notion is, that the whole of the shocking perfidy which I have here to relate was a deep laid plot of his and his mother's conaiving. Catherine, to calm the suspicions of the Protestants, proposed and concluded a marriage between the prince of Beam and her daughter Margaret. The queen of Navarre was invited to Paris to be present at tie nuptials. It would, perhaps, have besn better for her if she had adhered to her husband'? * The Charente is north of the Garonne, in the western part of Franco, t A little north of the Charente- X Northeast fi-om La Rochella. k.D. 1572.] CHARLES IX. ft* iiijunctionSj and had rot ventured to court. .She, however came, and was apparently received by Charles with the open hearted affection due to a relative ; but it is said that, wheo [ their interview was ov^.:, he boasted to his mother, " how weL he had acted his part.'' The pope had opposed with all hia power the marriage of Margaret with a Hugonot prince, but' it is said that Charles assured the pope's legate of his own fntiro devotion to the Holy See, and pressing his hand, added these remarkable words : " O ! if it were only in my power tc explain myself more fully." In the midst of the preparations for the marriage of the young prince and princess, the queen of Navarre died suddenly. Her death is now generally attributed to some constitutional disease ; but at the time the Protestants naturally took alarm at it, and many of them beUved it to have been procured by means of a poisoned pair of gloves, which she had purchased of Catherine's Italian perfumer. The marriage of Henry, now, by his mother's death, king of Navarre, with Margaret of Valois, took place August 18, 1572. It is said that the bride was extremely averse to it ; that the being united to a Hugonot filled her with repugnance and horror ; and that her afiections had been previously fixed on the duke of Guise. But Catherine was not accustomed to let the feelings of others stand in the way of her own schemes. The court was now, to all appearance, fully occupied with banquets, masquerades, and other splendid entertainments. The Hugonots were treated with the greatest attention. The inhabitants of Roohelle repeatedly sent entreaties to Coligny to quit Paris, and " not trust himself in the power of a king whose passions were uncontrollable, and of an Italian woman, whose dissimulation was unfathomable." But Coligny would not hearken to their cautions, and declared himself ready to abide all hazards rather than show a distrust which might plunge the country again into a civil war. On August 22d, as Coligny was returning from the Louvre to his hotel, and walking slowly, perusing some papers, he wag fired at by a man stationed behind a grated window. He was wounded in two places, but it was thought not danger- ously. On being conveyed home, he was instantly surrounded by the alarmed and agitated Hugonots. It was discovered that the assassin was a servant of the duke of Guise, and that he had been stationed for two days behind the window to wail for his victim. The king and Catherine, on hearing of this outrage, visited Cohgny in his bed c.hamb fixpressed tha 846 CHARLES IX \.Cnip. XXIX greatest cononi at the accident, and sent liim a guard of their own soldiers, as if for his protection. They professed great anxiety lest the Parisians should commit any act oi hostility against the Protestants ; they gave orders to close all the city gates except two, under color of preventing the escape of the assassin ; and had an account laid before them of the names and places of abode of all the Hugonots in Paris on the pretense of taking them under their immediate protec- tion. Every thing remained quiet during two days. It waa like the calm before a thunder storm. The transactions of the bloody day of St. Bartholomew are hivolved in great obscurity. Some assert that the massacre had been planned two years before it was executed. Others^ that the death of Coligny alone was the main object of Cath erine's machinations, and that the slaughter which followed was an after thought on the part of the court, and resorted to as an act of self-defense against the Hugonots, who might be expected to revenge the death of the admiral. On Saturday, August the 23d, it was finally determined that the massacre should begin that night, and that the signal should be the Btriking of the tocsin, or great bell of the palace. The Swiss guards and the city militia were ordered to be in readiness, wearmg a white cross on their hats, and % scarf on their left arms. As the hour approached, the king, less hardened than his mother, was in the greatest agitation : he trembled from head to foot, and the perspiration ran down his forehead. Plis mother and the duke of Anjou had great difficulty in keeping him steady to his purpose. The queen at length fjrced a command from him to commence the slaughter, and then, to prevent the possibility of his retracting, she hastened, js it is Baid, the fatal signal, which was given at half-past one o'clock in the morning by the great bell of the palace. On the first Bound, the implacable Guise flew to the house of Coligny, and there completed his bloody purpose ; not indeed by liis own hands, for he remained below, and sent up his people to the admiral's chamber. The venerable old man, disablei^ by his late wounds, had no other defense than his calm, intrepid countenance. La Besme, a German servant of the duke of Guise, approached him with his drawn sword in his hand. "Young man," said Cohgny, "you ought to reverence these gray hairs ; but do what you think proper ; my life can be shortened but a very little." La Besme made no answer, but plunged the sword into the admiral's body, while the othei k.D. 1572.J CHARLES IX. 347 assassins dispat< lied Lim with their daggers ; they then thre-w the body out of the window. The head was cut off and car- vied as a trophy to the queen, who, it is said, caused it to be enibaiined, and sent it as a present to the pope. The head- less trunk was dragg 3d abqut the streets by the frantic mob who afterward hung it on a gibbet at Montfaucon, where it remained some days, scorched, though not consumed, by a fire which was hghted under it. The king and his mother came to view it. At last it was secretly conveyed away by orders of the marechal Montmorenci, who gave it honorable burial in his chapel at Chantilly.* I must now return to the other events of this horrid mas- sacre. When morning dawned, the king, who had got rid of his tremors, called for his long fowling-piece, and placed him- self at one of the windows of the palace which looked on the Seine, and employed himself in firing on the wretched Hugo- nots who were endeavoring to secure themselves by crossing the river. He continually exclaimed, as he aimed at the fu gitives, "Kill them I kill them! My God, they are es- caping I" Henry of Navarre, and the young prince of Conde, and several other Hugonots, were, by the king's particular desire, lodged in the Louvre. All were sacrificed with the exception of the two princes. The queen-mother even looked from her window at the slaughtered bodies as they were brought out and thrown into the court of the palace. In the city, also, the work of death was going on with equal ferocity, and did not entirely cease during seven days. More than five thou- sand persons of all ranks are supposed to have perished in Paris alone. Some few had been so fortunate as to save themselves by fhght at the first alarm. Others were pre- served by the humanity of some of the Catholics. The. marechal Biron, who was in the post of master of the artil- lery, gave to some a secure refuge at the arsenal ; and the duke of Guise himself gave protection in his own house to , uiany whom he was desirovis to attach to his service. One floor boy saved his life by concealing himself under the mui'- dered bodies of his father and brother, and afterward lived to De a marechal of France, The massacre was not confined to Paris ; orders were also sent into the provinces to put the Hugonots to the sword. In many places these orders were toa well obeyed, but not in all. The governor of Bayonne, we %j» told, in answer to the king's mandate, \vrote as follows " A sb*>vt distance north of Paria- S48 Cf[ARLES IX [Chap. XXIX " Your majesty has many faithful servaKts in Bayonne, but not one executioner." The court, for a time, exulted in its victory. Charles was heard to declare, that now he had got rid of the rehels, he should live in peace. Alas I he l\ad murdered forever all hia own peace. His and Catherine's punishment soon began. Instead of living in peace, they were a prey to constant dis' quietude. At one time the king denied all participation iii the massacre, and threw the whole blame of it on the duke of Guise. The very next day he avowed the deed publicly, and gloried in it, and had a solemn mass performed to cele- brate what he called the victory over the Protestants, and had medals struck in commemoration of it. The authors of the massacre, to throw the more odium on the Protestants, and, as they hoped, to justify themselves, pretended that Cohgny had formed a plot to kill the king. They instituted a mock trial against him for treason ; they sentenced him to be hung in effigy ; they commanded every portrait of him to be destroyed and trampled on by the com- mon hangman. His property was confiscated, his house at Chatillon leveled with the ground, and his children degraded from their rank. To give more color to this imaginary plot, they accused two innocent men as being accessory to it, and caused them to be hung on the same gibbet, from which was suspended also the effigy of the admiral. Conde and the king of Navarre were for a time kept pris- oners in the Louvre. Both persuasions and threats were ra sorted to, to make them renounce their Protestant principles and at last these princes, young, without friends and advisers and overcome with grief, dismay, and horror at the scene? Vt^hich were passing around them, yielded to the pressure of their circumstances, and consented to profess themselves Cath- olics ; but they retracted this profession as soon as they had regained their hberty. The natural consequence of these shocking transactions was, that Charles and Catherine were universally held up to execration, excepting, indeed, in the , courts of Madrid and Rome. In the latter a jubilee was proclaimed by Gregory XIII. to celebrate what he termed " the triumph over heresy." The Hugonots, who were at first paralyzed with horror, soon regained their activity and flew to arms, and their per- eecutors found that instead of extirpating heresy, they had made the heretics desperate. Bochelle was besieged by the royal army, but was defended with so much vigor during a A.D, 1573.1 CHARLES IX. 319 protracted siege, that tu\i duke of Anjou, who commanded the assailants, found it expedient to negotiate. A treaty bearing date July 6, 1573, was concluded with the whole of the Hugonot party. Before this siege concluded, the duke of Anjou received in- telligence that he was elected to the crown of Poland. The duke himself was little desirous of this advancement. He re- gretted leaving the delights and enjoyments of France, and delayed as lojig as he could to set out for Poland. But Charles who hail long regarded him with a jsalous eye, as being hia mother's and the people's favorite, at length compelled him to depart. He himself designed to have accompanied him to the frontier of France, but was seized on the way with a fever and a pain in the heart, and was unable to continue his journey. The. queen-mother proceeded to Blamont in Lor- raine, and her last words to the king of Poland were, " Go, my son, take possession of your kingdom ; your stay there will not be long." These words raised a suspicion that Charles's illness was the efiect of poison which his mother had given him. His illness has, however, been also attributed to the effects of over exertion, and more particularly to his fondness for blowing the French horn, v/hich he indulged in to an ex- cess which injured his lungs. On the departure of the king of Poland, the count d'Alen- con, Catherine's youngest son, aspired to the post of lieuten- ant-general of the royal armies. But Charles refused to give it liim, and bestowed it on the duke of Lorraine. Alencon was a wild and capricious young man, with little sense oi judgment His person was diminutive, and this, as he was naturahy vain, mortified him extremely, and led him perhaps to engage the more eagerly in the pursuits of ambition. He has been described as of great hastiness, both in forming en- terprises and in deserting them almost as soon as they were formed. He now made an attempt to go over to the Hu- gonots ; but Catherine, having gained intelligence of hia purpose, caused him and the king of Navarre to be put undei arrest. The king's health now rapidly declined, and he was visibly hastening to the grave. He had never been quite himself since the day of St. Bartholomew. His complexion, which before was pale, was now often flvished ; his eyes acquired an unnatural fierceness, his nights were restless and disturbed, and his sleep unrefreshing. As his disosler increased, everj Byinptom was aggravated. He was seUom still for an la »;.0 CHARLES IX. [Chip. XXIX Btant His limbs would at one moment be distorted by con vulsive twitches, ani the nest so stiff that he could not bend them ; and the blood would ooze from the pores of his skin His physicians, unable to comprehend his disorder, affirmed that it was the effect of poison, or of sorcery. Nor was his mind less agitated than his bodily frame. The recollection of the massacre continually hauu ted him, and he was fre- quently OA'^erheard bewailing his crime with bitter tears and groans. Catherine, who thought more of securintr her own power than of his sufferings, disturbed his dying moments by making him give her a commission of regency for the interval wliich must ensue between his death and the return of his brother, the king of Poland, into France. Charles breathed his last. May 30, 1574. He was in the twenty-fourth year of his age, and had reigned thirteen years. He married Elizabeth, daughter of the emperor Maximilian II., a gentle-tempered and virtuous princess, too good for the scenes to which she was brought. By her he had one daugh- ter, EHzabeth, who died in 1578, at the age of five. The cardinal of Lorraine, who had been one of the most active contrivers of the massacre of the Hugonots, died a few months after the king, in a state of raving madness. It is singular that during this unhappy reign, which on the part of the court was one continued scene of wrong and cruel- ty, many judicious laws were enacted, many wise regulations made regarding the police, and many abuses reformed in the administration of justice. All these benefits were the work of the great Michel I'Hopital. Dismissed from the office of chancellor by the queen, when she found that his integritj' interfered with her own schemes, and seeing that aU his ef- forts were vain to stem the torrent of poUtical corruption, he turned all his attention to improve the laws, and to increase their efficacy, and in this important field of usefulness he 'abored almost without intermission. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XXIX. Kichard. How much the remorse and sufferings of Charles disarin one's resentment ' I protest I quite felt compassion for him at last. Mrs. Markham. It is generally agreed that Charles was endowed by nature with many valuable qualities ; but these ^•ere all perverted by a bad education He had a good ca OoNV.} CHARLEb ]X. 351 pacity, a retentive memory, and was a ready and eloquent speaker. George. But his education, you say, was neglected ? Mrs. M. It can not properly be sa:d to have been ncg lectcd. His miefortune was to ha\e been taught what was bad. His mother trained him early in the art of dissimula- tion, and instructed him to consider It as the main principle in the science of government. The marechal de Retz, an Italian of low birth, to whom the care of his education was confided, made it his business to stifle as much as possible every germ of goodness in his young mind, and to encourage him in dissolute habits. He taught him to be a profane swearer, but he could not succeed in the attempt to make him a drunkard. He was once prevailed on to drink to in- toxication, but he was so much ashamed of having been seen in that disgusting condition, that he could never be induced to commit the same excess again, and he was ever after remark- ably abstemious in drinking, and also in eating. Mary. I can not imagine why Catherine should wish that her son should be made wicked. Mrs. M. It is supposed that she desired to see him im- mersed in degrading vices, that he might be the less inclined to interfere with her politics. George. How I wish he had disappointed her, and grown up good in spite of her I Mrs. M. Poor Charles, I doubt not, would have joined you in that wish, for his vices certainly brought him any thing rather than happiness. He had by nature an ardent and vehement character. Whatever he did, he did with vio- lence. When he danced, it was with such impetuosity and perseverance, that the ladies of the court dreaded him for a partner. When he hunted, it was as if it was a matter of life and death. He loved all kinds of hard labor, and would take delight m working at a blacksmith's forge ; and no la- borer toihng for his bread would work harder than he would do for his amusement. His bodily strength was prodigious, and it seemed as if violent exercise alone could allay the con- stant restlessness of his mind. He was an excellent gun- smith ; but the art he most excelled in was that of making false money ; and he would often vaunt of his dexterity in passing it. Mary. Don't you think he must have been half mad ? Mrs. M. His temper was verj- irritable, and he is sup- pofced to have increased t aat evil by not allowing himse'/ 352 CHARLES IX [Chap. XXIX proper sleep When a toy, he loved cruel sports, a taste which he did not leave off in manhood. He was extremely fond of practical and tormenting- jokes ; hut whether all tliia could entitle him to the excuse of madness I can not pretend to say. Mary. Do you recollect any of his jokes ? Mrs. M. One of them was as follows : — On some great occasion, when he gave a splendid entertainment at the Louvre, he introduced into the assemhly ten of the most no- torious pickpockets in Paris, and gave them full license to practice their nefarious art upon the company. Of this lib- erty, you may be assured, they fuUy availed themselves, while the king amused himself with watching their proceedings. When the entertainment was over, he made them show him their gains, which, it is said, were prodigious. George. Did he go shares with them ? Mrs. M. Not quite so bad as that. It does not appear that covetousness was one of Charles's faults. He suffered the thieves to depart with their plunder, but threatened to have them all hanged, if they ever stole again. JSIary. Do you laiow, mamma, what sort of looking man he was ? George. According to Richard's rule, he ought not to have been very handsome. Mrs. M. He was a tall, large man, and tolerably well made, but spoiled his appearance by a habit of stooping, and by an awkward way of holding his head on one side. He had rather handsome eyes, and an aquiline nose. His com- plexion was fair and pale, and his countenance haggard and unpleasing. Richard. I think my rule will hold good in this instance, at least. Mrs. M. The best trait in Charles's character was hia fondness for his old nurse. He protected her, notwithstand ing her being a Protestant, during the massacre. He alwaya retained her near his person, and she attended him in his last moments, and witnessed the struggles of his remorse. George. If his wicked mother had witnessed them also, it might perhaps have done her some good. Mrs. M. I have met with an account of Charles's sufier- ings in his last illness, which appears to me very touching and impressive. I will give you a short extract from it. " As his old nurse was watching him, she, being weary, sal down on a chest by the bed-side, and began to doze. Pres CoNV.] CHARLES IX. 35«i ently she was awaKened by hearing the king bemoaning him- self with tears and gioans. She approached the bed very gently, and opened the curtains. The king thgn said, with a heavy groan, ' Aii, nurse, nurse I what b.'ood I what murders ' Ah, I have followed a wicked counsel I O my God, forgive me, have mercy upon me if thou wilt I' " After a few moiv bitter lamentations, the nurse gave him a dry handkerchief, his own being steeped with tears, and closing the curtains, left Jim to repose. George. What a comfort it must have been to Charles iu riis agonies, that he had saved his old nurse's life I Mrs. M. He also saved another Hugonot, wdio was hia Burgeon. Richard. Do the French still consider the massacre of St Bartholomew as a triumph over heresy ? Mrs. M. When the delirium of party fury subsided, they could not but learn to view it in its true light, and all writ- ers now join in condemning it. Margaret of Valois, the king of Navarre's young bride, has given xxs, in the memoirs of hei life, a description of the horrors which she herself was a wit- ness to during that memorable night of the 24th of August. Richard. I should like to read it. Mrs. M. The language is rather difficult, but I will trans late some passages for you. Margaret was not admitted into the secret of the projected massacre, for fear she should be- tray it to her husband. She says, " Nobody said any thing to me till the evening, when, being in the queen's chamber, seated on a chest near my sister of Lorraine, who I saw was very sad, the queen my mother perceived me, and told me to go to bed. As I made my reverence, my sister took me in her arms, and told me not to go. This frightened me extremely. The queen called to my sister, and rebuked her very severely, forbidding her to tell me any thing. My sister replied that there was no reason why I should be sacrificed, and that if the Hugonots discovered any thing, they would, without doubt, revenge themselves on me. The queen replied, that if it was God's will, no harm would happen to me ; but let it be as it might, I must go, to avoid exciting any suspicion. I saw that the queen and my sister differed, but I could not hear their w^ords. The queen then ordered me still more rudely to go to bed, and my sister, bathed in tears, wished me good night, without daring to say another word, and I went, all agitated and trembling, without being able to imagine what I had to fear." 354 CHARLES IX. LChap XXIX George. Well I this is the most cold-blooded deed of all *. 1 think that Catherine de Medicis gets wickeder and wickedei the more one knows of her I Mrs. M. The rest of Margaret's story is too long to give you in her own words ; I must therefore abridge it. She was disturbed all night by the presence of some Hugonot gen- tlemen, who came to confer with her husband. At last, at day-break, he and they departed, and she then hoped to be able to get some sleep, but was suddenly roused by a violent noise at her chamber-door. The door being opened by her nurse, who lay in her apartment, a man streaming with blood rushed in, pursued by four archers. This man darted toward the bed, and clung to her for protection, while she did not know whether she herself or the wounded man was the vic- tim they sought. Her shrieks brought M. Nanci, the captain of the guard. He sent away the archers, and allowed Mar- garet to conceal the fugitive in an inner apartment, where he lay concealed till he was cured of his wounds. Margaret, after changing her night-dress, which was all smeared with blood, hurried with trembling steps to her sister's chamber In one of the passages she encountered another poor fugitive, whose pursuers overtook him, and slew him with their hal- berds, so close to her that she expected to have been wounded herself, and would have fainted, if M. Nanci had not sup- ported her. Mary. I am only surprised she did not die of fright I Richard. Pray, mamma, do you know which was reck- oned the best general, the prince of Conde, or the admiral Coligny. Mrs. M. I can not pretend to say which was the best general, but I do not hesitate in saying which was the best man. Conde's private character was very faulty, and his public conduct was much actuated by personal resentments, and selfish ambition. Coligny, on the other hand, was a man of the purest life, and of strict religious principle. He had an extraordinary enlargement of mind, and in happier times might have been the pride and glory of France. Excepting the unjust charge of his conniving at the murder of the duke of (jruise, his heresy was the only crime which his enemies could ever find to accuse him of. Mary. And that is no crime in the eyes of us English people. Mrs M. Nor is it now in the eyes of his own country- men, who do ample justice to his memory. The house in »JoN7.| CHARLES IX. 35a which he was assassinated is still standing in the Rue BethisL It is an inn, and the room m which he died is still shown. Mary. It seems very strange to call him an admiral, while all the while he was a general. Mrs. M. In old times the offices of general and admiral were often held by the same person. The post of admiral of France was conferred by Henry II. on Coligny, as a reward for his bravery in the wars with Spain. Even during the tumult of the civil wars, he also sometimes acted as admiral, and earnestly labored to extnid commerce and improve navi- gation ; but the times were very unfavorable to his endeavors. Cohgny first attempted to establish a French settlement in America. He fitted out an expedition in 1562, to take pos- sesion of Florida, which he hoped might be made a place of refuge for the persecuted Hugonots. Mary. And was it so ? Mrs. M. The first settlers were entirely destroyed by the Spaniards. At this time the French navy was behind that of all the other nations in Europe, and could do but little for the support or protection of distant colonies. One cause of this naval inferiority is to be found in the constant wars which the French waged on the continent. Another cause was, perhaps, the scarcity of good harbors. Nature, very profuse to them in most other things, has been sparing in that respect. Richard. I thought there were some very fine harbors in France. Mrs. M. So there are now, but most of them are the work of art, and of after-times. Several early but ineffectl^al uttempts had been made to procure a marine. Francis I., who loved to do every thing on a magnificent scale, had the largest ship built that ever had been seen in France. She was two thousand tons burden.* George I dare say she was built in imitation of the old English ship The Great Harry. Mrs. M. Very probably. She had on board a windmill, and a tennis-court, and her cables were of the thickness of a man's leg. She was built for the purpose of some great en- terprise, but made only one voyage, and that a very short one. She was launched at Havre, and could get no further than the end of the pier, whsrs she stuck fast. From her enor- mous bulk she could not be got off", and was obliged to be broken up * Her name was La Grande Franfaise. if56 CHAELES IX. [Ch.i> XXIX Gtorge. You have several times spoken of galleys. What sort of vessels are they ? Mrs. M. They are decked vessels, with a great number of oars. To row these vessels is very laborious work, and ia commonly made a punishment for criminals, who, instead of being sent to the hulks, as with us, are condemned to work for a term of years, or sometimes for life, on board these galleys.* Mary. Don't they sometimes jump overboard and swim away ? Mrs. M. They are chained to their benches, so that they can not escape. * The rowing in galleys has heen almost entirely, if not entirely, giro flp Bince the introduction of steam navigation. MCSFHBKT OP SOBTXOBKXOl CHAPTER XXX. HENRY III. lYears after Chrict, 1574— ISBB.] Kerry III. and his Queen. Henry was at Cracow, in Poland, when the news of hn brother's death reached him. Instead of notifying the event to the senate, that measures might he taken for the govern- ment of Poland during his absence, he was so impatient of the smallest delay, that he fled secretly in the night, and never stopped tUl he had passed the confines of the kingdom. Here he was overtaken by some of the Polish nobles, who entreated him to return, which he promised to do as soon as he had settled the affairs of France. Henry lingered by the way in Germany and Italy, as if to enjoy the delights of freedom, be- fore he was again fettered by the, restraints of a throne. Ho arrived at Lyons early in September, where his mother met him, and resigned the regency. Henry had in his early years displayed some degree of man- liness ; but every flattering appearance of character soon van- ished; and now, altho^;gh in his twenty-third year, he was more like a wayward boy than a man. He took httle or nc share ir tlie administration of afl'airs, which he abandoned to 358 HENRY III. [Chap. XXX his mother and his favorites. He lived shut up in his palase, occupied in devising new fashions in dress, and diverting him- self with monkeys and lap-dogs, and in every frivolous and childish amusement. The queen encouraged rather than checked these follies, because they left her the more at liberty to gratify her own inordinate love of dominion. The Poles, finding that Henry had no intention to return, elected another king, and Henry and his late subjects soon thought no more of one another. The king had long been deeply enamored of the princess of Conde : indeed it is said to have been his passion for her that had made him so unwilling to accept the crown of Poland. He now determined to make her his wife, presuming that as the prince of Conde had returned to the profession of the Protestant faith, a divorce might easily be obtained between him and the princess. But while this affair was in agitation, the princess died suddenly ; and Catherine has been suspected of poisoning her, as being the easiest way of getting her son out of what she considered a foolish scrape. What truth there was in this suspicion, I can not pretend to say The king, during three days, abandoned himself to the most frantic excesses of grief. At the end of that time, having exhausted his sorrow, he resumed his usual occupations ; but for some time after he wore, as a token of his regard for the princess, little death's heads instead of the silver tags which were then much worn in the dresses of gentlemen. The duke of Alencon, and the king of Navarre, who had been detained by Catherine in a sort of custody, made their escape, the one in September, 1575, and the other in the February following, and joined the Hugonots. A treaty with the Hugonots was concluded soon after, but on terms which were considered by the Catholics as being much too favorable to the Protestants. Many of the Catholics, therefore, believ- ing their church to be in danger, formed themselves into a league for the defense of their religion. The chief promoter of this league was the duke of Guise, a man every way fitted to be the head of a party. He pos- sessed, in an eminent degree, the qualities which had been so conspicuous in his father and uncle. Jiike his father, he was the idol of the populace. He had brilliant talents, was gen- erous to profusion, insinuating and engaging in his address. and had a towering ambition, which neither principle nor honor could restrain. He had been wounded in the cheek in an engagement with the Hugonots, and this accident ao A.I> 1578 ] HENRY III. 359 quired for him the surname of the scarred.- The king was induced to declare himself the head of the league, although th(j principles of the party were in reality subversive of thb royal authority. But this Kcr.-/ did not discover until he was brought to the brink of ruin. The flames of the civil war again broke forth, and again died away. But, even when it was called peace, private animosities raged in an unexampled degree. The social ties eeen^ed broken ; and the true reason why so much violence was manifested during the period of the wars of religion was, that religion was often little else than the pretext of men whose minds were almost wholly guided and absorbed by the irreligious spirit of revenge, and by unprincipled ambition. The duke of Alencon, who had neither honesty nor consist ency, abandoned the king of Navarre, and reconciling himself to his brother, had the dukedom of Anjou conferred on him. In 1578 he engaged in a treaty with the Flemings, to assist their efforts to throw off the yoke of Spain, a yoke which the tyranny of Philip II. now made more than ever intolerable. Anjou had the title given him of Protector of the Belgic Lib- erties, and entered the Netherlands with a considerable force. But his desire to make himself king at last betraying itself, the Flem.ings became distrustful of him, and he found him- self obliged to return to France. He long indulged the hope of marrying Elizabeth, queen of England ; but all his hopes of aggrandizement miscarried, and he died, humiliated and dejected, June 10, 1584. The death of the duke of Anjou made a great change in affairs. The king, who had now been married some years, had no children, and the king of Navarre thus became the presumptive heir of the throne. The character of this great prmoe began to display itself. His superior talents and noble nature had long been obscured by adverse circumstances. But the prospect of his succession, while it animated the spirits of the Hugonots, filled the Catholics with a corresponding dread. They joined heartily in any scheme to exclude him, and, undei the plea that his claims were forfeited by his religion, they chose to consider his uncle, the old cardina of Bourlon, aa the immediate heir of the crown of France. The duke of G uise was the chief supporter of this choice, hoping that, aa the cardinal was weak in intellect, and now infirm from age, he would (should he come to the crown) be but the shadow of a king, and that he himself should govern in his name. The king, howevor, would never consent tc set aside the 360 hEJSHY III. ;,Chjp XXX. claims of llie king of Navarre. He sent pressing invitations to him, in liis own and liis mother's name, to come to court ; but the king of Navarre would not trust himself in their hands. On the 31st of December, 1584, was concluded a treaty called the treaty of Joinville, between the party of the duke of Guise and Philip II. of Spain, who took the title of Pro- tector of the League. In the following year the war re-com- menced with the Protestants This war has been called the War of the three Henrys : that is, Henry III. ; the king of Navarre ; and the duke of Guise. In 1587, the king of Navarre gained a signal victory over che royal army at Coutras : but this victory he failed to im- prove as he ought. A considerable army of Germans entered France for the purpose of supporting the Hugonots, and pene- trated into the center of the kingdom. ; but was finally routed, and almost exterminated by the duke of Guise. In 1588, the Hugonots sustained a great loss in the death of the prince of Conde. This prince of Conde was a man of great abilities, and of the most strict and sincere integrity, and no way inferior to his cousin, the king of Navarre, in bravery and generosity of character. He was a Protestant from the purest principles of religion, and scorned eveiy selfish and unworthy motive. This great man was poisoned by his own servants. His wife, Charlotte de Trimouille, was de- tained many years in prison on suspicion of having been the instigator of the crime. She had one son, who was born a few months after the death of his father. During these transactions, the king, jealous of the League, which daily treated him with increased insolence and tyranny, knew not, and had not firmness to determine consistently, which way to turn himself Too weak to cope either with the king of Navarre or the duke of Guise, he acted an insin- cere part toward both, sometimes treating openly with the one at the very moment that he was treating secretly with the other. Catherine also, as was her custom, acted perfidi ously. She had formed a design, in defiance of the law, to advance the children of her favorite daughter, the duchess of Lorraine, to the succession to the crown. She afiected to keep good friends with the king of NavaiTe, while she secretly iourted the duke of Guise, in the hope of engaging him to favor her scheme. But Guise had still nearer interests of hie own to serve, and aimed at procuring for himself, if not the crown Itself, yet at least the exercise of all its power. He, however, with a dissimulation equal to Catherine's, ajSected A U. 1533.] HENRY m. Jiji to lend a willing eai to her schemes, while he carefully con- cealed his own. The king became at length the object of an extreme and general distrust and eontempt. The people, the Parisians more especially, could not help making disparaging compari- sons between him and the duke of Guise, whom they idolized. Guise, by means of his agents, fomented the public disaffec- tion, and several plots were formed to dethrone the king, and confine him in a monastery. One of the most active pro- moters of these plots was the duchess de Montpensier, Guise's sister, who, to revenge herself for some remarks which Henry had made on her want of personal beauty, took every means of turning him into ridicule, and lowering his authority. These designs against the king becoming daily more foj- midable, Henry in terror sent orders to the duke of Guise to abstam from coming to Paris. But Guise, his plots being ripe, came in defiance of him. . He entered the city, May 9. 1588. He was received with acclamations of triumphant joy by the populace, and welcomed with apparent cordiality by Catherine, who undertook to mediate between him and the king. Henry was at length prevailed on to admit him into his presence. The duke, while he was with the king, kept his hand on his sword, and there is every reason to think thai Henry had intended to order his guards to fall on him during the interview. But he was for the present suffered to retire unharmed, after having been loaded by the king with re- proaches, to which he replied with apparent submission. After another day had passed, the king caused a body of four thousand Swiss soldiers to be brought into the city, with orders to post themselves in the squares and principal places But the citizens, instigated by Guise and his party, assembled in prodigious numbers, and overpowering the soldiers, pro- ceeded to erect barricades, and to stretch chains across the streets, by way of protecting themselves against any attack from the king. These barricades v/ere by degrees carried farther and farther till they were advanced within a few steps of the Louvre. The shops were shut, the alarm-bells were rung, and the town, from one end of it to the other, was in the greatest tumult. The king himself was every instant in expectation of being attacked in his palace. The marechals Biron and d'Aumont, who ventured to harangue the mob were fired at, and obliged io retire. The duke of Guise, who had till now remained in Ins house, a passive spectator of the commotion, appeared at this crisis in the streets on horseback, Q 362 HENRY III. [CflAr. XXX unarmed, and with only a truncheon in his hand. His voica and presence instantly calmed the mob. He forbade tha people to commit any violence, and at the same time he ordered the barricades to be kept up, and the king to be vigi- lantly observed. Catherine endeavored to restore tranquillity by negotiating The mob, in the mean time, hourly increased. The king, during the night, found means to escape from the gardens at the back of the palace, and mounting a horse, took the road to Chartres,* leaving Guise almost entire master of the capital. Catherine remained behind, and continued her negotiations, and at last procured an apparent reconciliation. The terms of reconciliation included a promise from the king to call an assembly of the states-general. It was the object of the duke of Guise to procure from this assembly, which met at Blois in the month of October following, a ratification of the king's other concessions, and he spared no pains to secure its members in his own interests. Henry, under these circumstances, determined to rid him- self of his ambitious subject by resorting to the detestable act of assassination. In the dead of the night of the 22d of De- cember, he himself introduced nine of his body guards into secret hiding-places, which he had had constructed in the passage leading to his own chamber, in the castle of Blois ;t and, arming them with poniards, he bade them lie in wait for their victim. A public council had been appointed to be held in the castle at eight o'clock in the morning of the 23d, and Guise had been summoned to attend it. The king's designs were known to so many persons, that the duke had that morn- ing received no fewer than nine billets, entreating him not to attend ; but he disregarded these friendly warnings, and looked on them as a contrivance of Henry's to intimidate him, and to induce him to leave Blois, where he knew that his presence was no longer desired. At the appointed hour, Guise, with his brother, the cardinal of Guise, entered the council-room. The duke presently re ceived a message to attend the king in his private chamber. By nature intrepid, he obeyed the summons without fear ; but when he approached the door of the royal apartment, he waa suddenly beset by the assassins, and, after a desperate but short resistance, fell covered with wounds. Henry, from the scene of death, went to his mother's apartment, and said ex- ultingly, " Now, madam, I am a king I" She neither blamed lor approved the deed, but coldly replied, " We shall see what * Southwest of Paris. t Southwest of Orleans K.B. 1589.] HENRY III. 36* will come ol it." She urged him, however, to take instant measures to secure Paris, while yet in consternation at the first intelUgence of this bloody transaction, and for checking the commotions which might be expected to arise throughout the kingdom. Catherine was at this time ill, and indeed on the very brink of eternity. This miserable woman had no comfort in looking forward to what was to her a dreadful futurity. She saw the futiHty also of all her worldly schemes, and the ruin and misery which they had brought, and which they were still bringing, upon her race. The mental agita- tion which these reflections excited in her is commonly sup- posed to have hastened her end. The murder of the duke of Guise entangled Henry, as is commonly the case, in other crimes. At the moment when Guise was assassinated, his brother, the cardinal, was arrest- ed. On the following day, it being thought dangerous that he should survive, he, too, was sent for under pretense of speaking to the king, and was dispatched by four soldiers, in one of the galleries of the castle. That night, the two bodies were let down by ropes from the windows into a court, where they were burnt to ashes, in order to prevent any remains of them from being preserved. No sooner was the death of Guise known in Paris than the people became almost frantic, and their grief and indignation knew no bounds. The doctors of the Sorbonne, whose decrees were considered as being almost as binding as laws, pronounced Henry of Valois to have forfeited his crovsm, and absolved hia subjects from their oath of allegiance. The whole country was in a state of alarm and commotion. Whole provinces, and nearly all the chief cities revolted ; and Henry, instead of " finding himself a king," saw himself on the point of losing his crown. Utterly incapable of effecting any thing for him- self, he now again turned his eyes to the king of Navarre, and besought him to come to him, and to have compassion on hia distressed condition. It was with some difficulty, arising part- ly from his abhorrence of the king's crimes, and partly from suspicions of his sincerity, that this prince could bring himself to pay attention to his entreaties. However, for this once he suspected him wrongfully. The king had now nc intention to injure the only man who could assist him m hiB present abject condition. The two Henrys met April 30, 1 589, in the park of the castle of Plessis les Tours, and a reconciliation took place, which appears to have inspired the king with somo degree of courage and energy. He called together all th* 80« HENRY III. [Chap. XXX troops who still adhered to him, and uniting his ibrces with those of the king of Navarre, assemhled an army of thirty- eight thousand men. With this army the two kings appeal- ed before Paris, in the end of July. The alarm of the Parisians was excessive. They had not expected, and were totally unprepared for a siege. The duke d3 Mayenne, the surviving brother of the duke of Guise, who Eince his brother's death had been appointed head of the League, came to the relief of the capital with all the troopa he could nmster. But these were very inadequate to its de- fense, and Mayenne meditated the desperate resolution of put- ting himself at the head of four thousand of his best men, and either cutting his way through the besiegers, or perishing glo- riously in the attempt. The fate of Paris had arrived at this awful crisis, when an unexpected event averted the destruc- tion which seemed impending, and made an entire revolution In the affairs of the kingdom. On the 1st of August, 1589, a monk named James Clement, under pretense of having important communications to make to the king, obtained admittance into his chamber while he was dressing, and, presenting to him a paper for his perusal, almost immediately afterward stabbed him in the body with a knife which he had concealed in his .sleeve. Henry wrench- ed the knife from the wound, and struck the assassin with it in the face. The attendants rushing forward, soon dispatch- ed him with their swords, and thus all clew was lost to the motives which instigated him ; and it was never known whether the deed had proceeded from his own malignant and fanatical disposition, or was perpetrated at the suggestion of others. Suspicion , therefore, had an ample range, and glanced by turns at the king of Spain, the duchess of Montpensier, and at all the principal supporters of the League. The king's wound did not, at first, appear to be mortal , but, in the course of a few hoiirs, his surgeons pronounced, on re-examination, that he had not long to live. He sent for the king of Navarre, embraced him cordially, declared him his successor, and conjured him to renounce the reformed rehgion. He then confessed himself with much apparent devotion, and expired, August the 2d. He was in the 38th year of his ag?, and had reigned fifteen years. He left no children by his queen, Louisa of Vaudemont, and in him the house of Valoia became extinct. The family of Valois sat on the throne of France two hun- dred and sixty-one years. Of the thirteen monarcLs of this A.r>. 1589.1 HENRY 111. 369 race, it must be said that they were, for the most part, braA'e, magnificent, and lovers of the fine arts. They found tha kingdom overrun by foreign enemies,- hemmed in and curtail- ed on every side,- and parceled out into independent states They expelled the English, they united Dauphin e, Burgundy, Provence, and Bretagne, to their dominions, and left to theii successors a great and well compacted territory. On the oth- er hand, these kings were, with few exceptions, arbitrary and ambitious, lovers of conquest rather than of the prosperity ol their people, on whose rights they trampled imscrupulously. They ground down the poor by taxes and impositions, and degraded the nobles by bestowing the highest dignities on mean and unworthy favorites, a practice unheard of among their predecessors. In the year 1564, an edict had been pubhshed in France fixing the commencement of the year on the first of January, instead of beginning it on Easter-day, as had till then been the custom. Pope Gregory the Thirteenth's reformation o( the calendar Avas adopted in France in 1585. The Protest- ant countries of Europe long rejected it, because they rty-ard* ed it as a Popish ordinance ¥alxt awd FooTJi*N or Hsnbt III *66 HENRY 111. [Cuip. XXX. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XXX. Richard. Of all those thirteen Valois kings, I think I lika this Henry III. the least. To be sure he was not worse than Louis XI., but, then, he was more contemptible. M7'S. MarkJiam. Henry III. was a disgusting mixture of fjlly and vice. He was exceedingly vain of his personal ap- pearance, and painted his face red and white, and wore some kind of plasters at night to improve his complexion. He also slept in gloves to make his hands white, and stained his hair to hide its natural color, which was red. Mary. I thought it was nobody but only very silly wom- en indeed who did those sort of things. George. I tliink his being so fond of inventing new fash- ions in dress was another thing in which he was like a very silly woman. Mrs. M. He became bald while quite young, which was probably the effect of the dye which he used for his hair ; and, to conceal his baldness, he latterly wore a Turkish turban. Maty. How very strange he must have looked with his painted face and his turban I Mrs. M. The duke de Sully had an interview with him during the time of his greatest distress, and thus describes his appearance : — " I found him in his closet, a sword by his side, and short cloak on his shoulders, a httle turban on his head, and about his neck was hung a basket, in which were two or three little dogs, no bigger than my fist." George. A basket full of little dogs ! I should as soon have expected to have found him playing like a girl, ■wdth a doU. Mrs. M. He was often found playing with a cup and ball : and this amusement soon became so fashionable at court, that not only the gentlemen, but also the pages and lackeys, were perpetually seen engaged in it. Richard. I suppose a foohsh king will make foolish coiu't- iers. George. I hope there wiU soon be an end of these civil wars, and of aU their cruelties- I am getting very tired of ihem. Mrs, M. Among their many evil consequences, one of the worst was their efiect on the minds of all ranks of people, whose feelings were made callous by familiarity with scenes of blood, and their malignant passions fostered by the violence of party spirit, till they seem&i to be insensible to all differ '. NX] HENRY III. 367 eiroe between right and wrong. All writers agree that the character of the French people underwent a great change foi the worse during the reigns of the three last kings of the house of Valois. Richard. Pray, mamma, had the soldiers who fought in the civil wars regular pay like other soldiers ? Mrs. M. They had a nominal pay, but they did not re- ceive it very regularly. They were often driven to obtain the necessaries of life by the plunder of the peasants, and were, in fact, little better than authorized banditti. George. It seems to me that the soldiers of old times were seldom any thing else. MiS. M. It must, indeed, be owned, that whatever may be the case now, war and robbery, in former times, went hand- in-hand. I have met with an account of the Italian wars, in the reign of Henry II., in which it is said that the French soldiers acquired by plunder such prodigious wealth, that it was no uncommon thing to see the private men clothed in velvet and gold. One man's dress is described as of green satin, with gold coins for buttons. But in the civil wars all this wealth disappeared, and the French soldiery might have then passed muster in FalstafF's ragged regiment. We need not except even Henry IV., who in a letter to the duke of Sully, written in the early part of his reign, complains that his shirts were all torn, and that he had not a doublet which was not out at the elbows, and that he had not a coat of armor which he could wear. Richard. Then armor was still worn at that time ? Mrs. M. It did not disappear finally till the seventeenth century. Xhe offensive arms and defensive armor used in France came chiefly from Italy. The French, though in many arts, extremely ingemous, have never, from the earliest time to the present day, possessed much skill in working in iron and steel. Ricltard. What fire-arms were in use at tie time of the French civil wars ? Mrs. M. The arquebuss, which had succeeded to the cross-bow, had now in its turn given place to muskets, and the cavalry had exchanged their lances for pistols. The mus- ket of that day, in consequence of its extreme weight, was not brought into use without great opposition. George. Did the French excel now in their artillery, as much as they did in the time of Charles VIII. ? Wis. M During +he civil wars, there appears to havf 368 HENRY III. [Ohap. XXX been on both sides a great deficiency of cannon. At the bat tie of Coutras, the king of Navarre laad only three field-pieces, and the royal army only two. Queen Elizabeth, in a momenJ of generosity, sent the Hugonots a present of nine cannon, which were considered a great acquisition. Mary. J^.nd I think it was very generous in her. Mrs. M. The prince of Conde thought so too, and wished much to have made her a handsome present in return ; but he was so poor, and his party so much reduced, that nothing could be found to send her but some wool, and some bells which had been taken from a church in Normandy. George. Could not the king of Navarre, too, have found something to send ? Mrs. M. The king of Navarre was not much richer than Conde. It had long been the policy of the family of Valois, to depress, as much as they could, the house of Bour- bon. And the royal revenues of Navarre, with Henry's Bourbon patrimony, and his wife's portion included, did not amount to so much as six thousand pounds sterling a year — a small sum to maintain an array, and to keep up kingly state with. George. It was not surprising then that his doublets, poor man, were out at the elbows I Jiicliard. Pray, mamma, when were regimental uniforms first adopted ? Mrs. M. During the civil wars of France some distinc- tion of dress was adopted by the nobles and officers of each party. The Catholics wore crimson jackets and scarfs, and the Hugonots white ones ; but this Was a badge of party, and not as a military uniform. The first attempt I have found mentioned to dress the French soldiers in uniform was made by Henry III., who clothed his Swiss guards in suits of gray. JiicJiard. I fear the arts and sciences were sadly neglect- ed during these terrible civil wars. Mrs. M. All great public works and general improve- ments were at a stand. But so great an impulse had now been given to the human mind, that notwithstanding the calamities of the times, knowledge of all kinds went on in creasing. Among other arts, that of surgery made great progress. George. Why, the art of surgery was likely enough tc thrive in a time of such constant war. Mrs. M. Much is sai(^ of the superior skill of Ambrose CoNv.j Hr,NRY III. 36i Pare, the Hiigonot surgeon, whose hfe was spared by Charles IX. at the time of the inassacre of St. Bartholomew. Richard. Pare I That was the name of the man who first made that happy discovery, of which you told us in the History of England, that boiling oil was not good for gun-shot wounds. Mrs. M. Surgery, before his time, was more a butchery t,han a healing art, and the usual way of stopping the blood was to sear the wound with red-hot irons. There was one man, however, of the name of Doublet, who did not puisue so barbarous a method. This man had the reputation of curing wounds by magic, and it must be owned that some of his cures were very surprising. Mary. You are not serious, mamma I He did not really cure them by magic ? Mrs. M. He used to repeat certain magical incantations, after which he washed the wound with plain water, and hound it up with clean linen bandages. George. It was not fair upon the plain water and the p.lean linen that the magic should get all the credit. Mrs. M. But there was another way also of stopping the bloou -ivithout magic, and without searing the part : this was, for some person to hold his thumb on the wound till it should cease bleeding. George. Then which did they call the patient, mamma, the man with the wound, or the man with the thumb ? Richard. So much for the art of surgery. And how was it in the mean time with the art of poetry ? Mrs. M. Jodelle, Desportes, and Ronsard, were poets who enlivened this melancholy period. Jodelle was the father of French tragedy, and Desportes was famed for his elegies ; but it is Ronsard's name which has come down to us with most honor. He was the author of the Fratidad, the first French epic, and his writings are said to have greatly improved the French language, which before his time was very unpolished and inharmonious. Richard. Is his poetry much admired now ? Mrs. M. In England it is scarcely known, and little read, I should think, even in France. But there was a time when ft formed the universal study of all well-educated persons. It was the delight of our queen Elizabeth and her court, and the solace of Mary Stuart in her prison. Mary sent Ronsard a splendid present of a silver beaufet, on which was a repre- sentation of Mount Parnassus, as a tokon of gratitude for the 370 HENRY III. IChap. XXX begUilii'ig of her sorrows, which she had derived from the perusal of his poetry. RicJmrd. Were there any famous prose writers at that time ? Mrs. M. The essays of Montaigne are very celehrated and I beheve very clever ; and there are a great number ol private memoirs, a species of writing in which the French particularly excel. One of the most valuable books of this kind is the Memoirs of the duke of Sully, the faithful friend and virtuous minister of Henry IV. These memoirs give us circumstantial and highly interesting details of the chief transactions of the reigns of Henry III. and Henry IV. George. Were the schools under better discipline now than they used to be ? Mrs. M. You shall judge for yourself. Here is an ac- count by a French gentleman of a school he was at at Tou- louse : — " Being in the year 1545 fourteen years old, I was sent with my brother to study the laws under the superin: tendence of an ancient gentleman. We were auditors during three years, leading a much stricter life, and studying more severely, than persons of the present time would suppose We rose at four in the morning, and having said our prayers, began our studies at five, our great books under our arms, and our inkstands and candlesticks in our hands. We listen- ed to all the lectures till ten without intermission, and then dined, after having in haste run over the substance of the lectures, which we had taken down in writing. After dinner, as a matter of amusement, we read Greek plays, or Demos- thenes, &c. At one o'clock, to our studies again. At five, home, to repeat and look out in our books for the pas- sages cited. Then we supped, and read in Greek and Latin. On hoHdays we went to mass and vespers, and dur- ing the remainder of the day we had a httle music and walking." George. Truly, there was no great relaxation of discipline there. Mrs. M. Among the things worthy to be noted of this period is the first introduction of telescopes into France. Snuff also was first used in France about this time. It was called Queen's Herb, because Catherine de Medicis was ex- tremely fond of it, and used to take it. George. And for that very reason I never will. Mrs. M. I forgot 'A'hen I Avas speaking of Henry the Third's capriciousnesf in dress, to say that he left off the A.U. 1589.] HENRY IV 371 large rufis which wero much in fashion when he came to the crown. Mary. I suppose he thought they misbecame him. Mrs. M. He left them off because he took it into his head that the person, whose business it was to pin his ruff^ had been bribed by his brother, the duke of Alencon, tn Bcratch him in the nape of the neck with a poisoned pin. CHAPTER XXXI. HEN^Y IV., SURNAMED THE GREAT [Years after Christ, 1580—1610.] Henry IV., Ql'een, and Dauphin. When the melancholy catastrophe which put an end to the troubled and ignominious reign of Henry III. was known in Paris, the Parisians abandoned themselves to the most dis- graceful excesses of joy. The duchess of Montpensier ran about the streets exclaiming, " Good news ! good news ! the tyrant is dead I" In the mean time all was confusion and consternation in the royal camp. There was no nearer male heir than the king of Navarre : but still his claim was by many considered too remote t!> be admitted as a clear title to the throne, ha being related to t^^s late king only in the eleventh degrep 372 HENRY IV. L^-'h^p- XXX» The party of tiie League refused to acknowledge his claim, and caused the old cardinal de Bourbon, who was still a pris- oner, to be proclaimed king ly the title of Charles X. Tha nobles in the royal army were chiefly incluaed to the cause of Henry, and, as soon as they had recovered from the surprise into which the death of Henry III. had thn wn them, ac- knowledged him as king. The duke of Epenion, and some others, however, professed to take no part in the contest, and withdrew with a large portion of the troops. Henry with his diminished forces found it impossible tc continue the siege of Paris, and as soon as he had consigned the remains of the last of the Valois to a humble grave in the church of Compeigne, he broke up his camp and retired into Normandy. Thither Mayenne followed, and was de- feated by Henry, first at Arques,* and afterward at Ivri.j" These victories, though they did much to raise Henry's char- acter, and gave hope, and, in some degree confidence, to his friends, were yet very far from putting him in possession of the kingdom. The party of the League was far more numerous than his own, and was held together by the gold and influence of the king of Spain, who was desirous to subvert the princi- ples of the Salic law, and obtain the crown of France for his daughter Clara Isabella, or, as some authors call her Clara Eugenia. In addition to the difliculties thrown in his way by his en ernies, Henry suffered also many embarrassments from his i'riends. The Catholics who had joined his party coifld have no toleration for tlie Hugonots, who on their part had no cor diality for the Catholics. They were each jealous of the other, and were always fancying themselves not sufficiently valued by the king. Nor had Henry any support from the members of his wn family. The young prince of Conde, the next heir after him to the crown, was quite a boy, and could give him no assistance whatever. The three uncles of Conde had neither influence nor abilities, and the only prince of the blood who possessed either was the duke de Montpensier, but he was lost to the royal cause by the vehement politics of his wife. Henry thus stood alone, and had to contend unsupported with all the burdens of his difficult situation. He was now in the thirty-sixth year of his age, and had been tried from his earliest years in the hard school of adversity. He wn* * Near Dieppe, on the northern coast. t On the southoTO frontier of Normandy, south of Diepvo- A.D. ii)9C 1 HENEY IV. 37;i blessed with a frank and cheerful disnosition, and with gay and buoyant spirits. Prompt and vigilant, he was alwaya ready to act. He was sparing in his own personal expenses, out generous and hberal to others. He possessed in an emi- nent degree those truly royal virtues, valor and clemency ; and is said to have subdued his enemies as much by the one as by the other. He was a man of great sincerity and sim- plicity of maimers, and the French found in him what they had long been unaccustomed to, a king without artifice oi dissimulation. He also possessed another virtue, at this time a very rare one, namely, humanity. His compassion and ten- derness of heart endeared him particularly to all the lowei ranks of the people, who were but little accustomed to receive kindness from their superiors. He was not without faults, ■and those very serious ones, but I will not spoil his portrait by naming them now. When circumstances force therrj upon our notice, it will be time enough to speak of them. He was tall and well made. He had a clear, animated com- plexion, well-proportioned features, and an open, engaging countenance. The duke de Mayenne, who may be considered as Henry's chief opponent, was in almost all respects his entire reverse. He was slow in all his movements, heavy in his person, a great eater and a great sleeper. He took on all occasions a long time to deliberate, and though his judgment was goodj vet his efforts were commonly unavailing, through his over- caution and dilatoriness. He was a bad manager of his af fairs, profuse in expense, and always in difficulties. Hi^ manners were grave and ungracious, and he owed the consid eration in which he was held more to the cause he was en gaged in than to any popular attachment to himself In 1590 the League lost their phantom of a king, Charles X., who died, it should appear, perfectly innocent of any wish to supersede the better rights of his nephew. In this year Henry, after taking Melun,* and some other places, laid siege to Paris. The citizens had made no preparations of any kind, and as soon as they were invested by the royal army, and their supplies cut off, it was found that they had not sufficient pro- vision or ammunition to enable them to stand a siege. But nevertheless they were determined not to yield. Dislike of the Hugonots seems to have been felt more strongly at Paris than any where else, and animated the inhabitants in theif oppoaition to Henry. • On the Seine, above Paris — tliat is toward *lie southeast 5/4 HENRY IV [Chap. XXXI The governor of Paris was the dake de Nemours, Mayenne's half-brother. He was young and inexperienced, but active and full of zeal ; and the city was soon put into a good state of defense. The breaches in the walls were repaired, a large quantity of gunpowder was nanufactured, the people formed themselves into companies to learn the use of arms, and every family contributed its copper culinary vessels to be converted into cannon. But all this time their provisions were fast diminishing, and at length the calamities of famine began to be severely felt. But even when numbers were dying of hunger, a capitulation was never thought of. The duchess de Montpensier encour aged the citizens by her unceasing exhortations to a persever- ing resistance. The pope's legate assured them that they would obtain absolution of their sins, and that those who fell would inherit the crown of martyrdom in virtue of their steady defense of the true faith. The Spanish embassador distribut- ed money and provisions, and cheered them with the promise of speedy relief. Notwithstanding all these efforts, however, the king would easily have taken the city by assault, could he have prevailed AT.th himself to adopt so violent a measure. " I am," said he, " the true father of ray people. I would much rather never have Paris, than possess it by the death and ruin of so many persons." This clemency saved the city. When it was at length reduced to the last distress, and incapable, it is said, of holding out more than four days longer, the duke of Parma, the greatest general of his age, arrived at the head of a considerable Spanish army, and obliged Henry to raise the siege. On the 30th of August, 1590, the sentinels who had been keeping watch all night on the walls, perceived, at break of day, that the royal army was decamping. Their cries of joy at this unexpected sight were so loud and vehement, that the awakened and astonished citizens imagined that some fresh calamity had befallen them. But when they were brought to comprehend that the siege was raised, they were as if in a delirium. Some ciriwded to the ramparts to convince them selves that the news was really true ; others rushed out of tha gates in quest of provisions ; while others repaired to the churches to return thanks to God for their deliverance. Henry having in vain endeavored to bring the duke of Parma to an engagement, was compelled to disband hii forces and to retreat. In the following year he undertook th« A.D. 1592.] HENRY IT. 375 Biege of Rouen. Parma again came to the assifctance of th« . League, and obliged him to raise the siege. The united army of the duke of Parma, and of the League, was afterward hemmed in by the royal forces near Caudebec,* and only escaped by crossing the Seine in the dead of the night, May 20, 1592. The duke of Parma, who had been long ui an infirm state of health, died at Arras,t December 3d, of the same year. The events of this war proved sufficiently to Henry that nothing but the renunciation of the Protestant religion could possibly fix him firmly on the throne. A sense of honor, per- haps, and the fear of alienating the queen of England, had weighed more to hinder him from taking that step than any real interest which he himself took in the distinctions between the Protestant and the Catholic faith. He had before this time declared a willingness to listen to the instructions of Ro- man CathoUc divines, and probably contemplated the being one day reconciled to their church. But an event now oc- curred which compelled him to decide without delay. In 1593, the states-general were assembled, and proceeded so far as to ofier the crown to the Spanish Infanta, on the condition that she should marry a French Catholic prince. The young duke of Guise was fixed on as her future husband. Under these circumstances, Henry, on July 25, 1593, made a public abjuration of Protestantism. To complete his entire reconciliation with the Romish church, there now remained nothing but the pope's absolution, for which his embassadors at Rome labored earnestly, but for some time unsuccessfully. The duke of Mayenne, and some of the stanchest adherents of the League, contended that, until Henry had received abso- lution, he could not be considered as a legitimate sovereign. But notwithstanding this opposition, daily increasing num- bers of the nobles flocked to tender him their submission, and Henry received them with a frankness and kindness, and with a seeming forgetfulness of the past, which served to rivet their obedience to his authority. Rheims was in the hands of the League, and Henry waa therefore crouTied at Chartres,:!: Feb. 27, 1594. A new crown and scepter were made for the occasion, the regalia of France, among which was the golden crown of the Carlovin gians, wliich had long been treasured as a valuable relic, hav mg been seized by the duke de Nomours, and melted dowr. ta * Near Rouen. Southeast of Cdais, in ArtoJa t Southwest of Paris, 48 miles 876 -lENRY IV. LChap. XXXI supply the necessities h the League. On March 22il, Henry tvas received into Paris. In 1585 he at length obtained his long desired absolution from the pop3. The duke of May enne was now deprived of all plea for withholding the submission due to his sovereign, Henry concluded a treaty v/ith h;in early in the year 1596, and received and treated him with so much nobleness and generosity, that he was ever after one of his most faithful servants. The remaining members of the League followed the example of their leader, and thus France at last saw the termination of those troubles with which she had been distracted ever since the death of Henry II., a pe- riod of thirty-seven years. Domestic tranquillity being thus happily restored, the war with Spain was comparatively of little importance. The archduke Albert, governor of the Low Countries, to whom Philip had promised his daughter in marriage, made an in- road into France in 1596, and took Calais and Ardres. Henry, whose finances were not yet recruited, applied, in this emer- gency, to the queen of England. Elizabeth, after making some difficulties on account of the displeasure she felt at his change of religion, entered into an alliance with him, and sent him a supply of troops. In this alliance the Dutch afterward joined. In 1597, the Spaniards took Amiens ;* but Henry retook it after an obstinate siege of six months. During the siege, he was often tempted to try a pitched battle, which the arch- iuke appeared to seek. But the caution of Mayenne was here of signal use in preventing the king from running so great a risk. Mayenne said to him, " Sire, you are come heie to take Amiens, and not to fight." Soon after the re-capture of Amiens, Philip II., who waa now old and infirm, and aware that his life and his ambitious projects would soon close together, became desirous of peace. A treaty was commenced under the pope's mediation, and finally concluded at Vervins, in Picardy, May 2, 1598. By this treaty, the Spaniards agreed to give up Calais, and, with slight exception, all their other conquests in France. In the following September Philip II. died, and was succeeded in the kingdoms of Spain and Portugal by his only son Philip III., a youth of very mean capacity. Franche Comte and the Low Countries were settled on Clara Isabella, who married the archduke A'lbert. * O « the Somme, nearly south of Calais A D. 1598.] HENRY IV. • 37/ A short time before the conclusion of the peace of Vervins,* Henry granted an edict called the edict of Nantes/ in fa vol of the Hugonots, by which the exercise of their reiigion was, with some slight restrictions, permitted, and by which they were made admissible to all places of honor and dignity iy the state. These concessions did not satisfy the Hugonots, v/ho distrusted the king ever after his charge of religion, and who, though now by law admissible into ai^ cilices of the state, yet found themselves, in point of fact, almost excluded from them. The French in general, however, were delighted with their king, and began to feel the happiness of a well- organized government. The taxes, it is true, remained as high as in the preceding reign, but they were paid without murmuring, because the people were persuaded that the rev enue was now expended with a strict and honest judgment and frugality. But what may be considered as Henry's greatest praise was the attention which he paid to the condi- tion of the peasantry, whose wants and sufferings had hitherto been overlooked by their sovereigns. During an insurrection which arose in the beginning of the reign among the peasants of Guienne,t the king, instead of sending troops to extermin- ate them, as was the customary method of quelling such dis- turbances, had their complaints inquired into, and, as far aa was possible, redressed. The peasants immediately returned to their duty, and became a most attached and loyal portion of his subjects. Another object of this great king was to promote aits and manufactures. The silk trade of Lyons owes to him its birth and encouragement. He began many public buildings, and finished others which he had found incomplete. Among these was the Pont-Neuf. He continued the improvements which Charles IX. had commenced at the Louvre ; and also made great additions to the Tuileries ; but these palaces were not completed till the reign of his grandson, Louis XIV. In all that Heniy did, he found a most able assistant in his faithful friend and servant Hosny, on whom he conferred the title of duke of Sully. Sully, although a Hugonot, was made chief minister of finance, and held other important offices in the state. He was thoroughly deserving of the king's con- fidence, and seems to have had no other object at heart but the honor of his royal master and ^he good of his country. * In the eastern part of Picardy, east of Amiras. t Nantes is near the mouth of the Loire. t In tho amthwest p«Jt of France. at HENRY IV. [Chap. XXXi Pont-Nkdf and Tour bb Neslk. Few characters in history have ever been more popular than that of Henry. He is beyond all comparison the favor- ite monarch of the French, and merits this distinction by his alert spirit and happy temper, and by having possessed all the endearing qualities of a kind and frank disposition I wish, as I have already told you, that we could cast a vail over his vices. But it must not be concealed that he indulged a pas- sion for gambling, and licentiousness, m the most disgraceful and intemperate degree. In, 1599 he obtained a divorce from Margaret of Valois, and the same year married Mary de Medicis, niece to the grand duke of Tuscany. Mary was a woman of a weak mind and violent temper. She was entirely governed by her Italian favorites, and her perpetual quarrels with the king made the court a continued scene of dissension. These quar- rels were cliiefly excited or fomented by Henrietta d'Entragues, Marquise de Verneuil, the king's mistress, a woman of a sharp and lively wit, who made the queen a perpetual theme of her pleasantries. She also attempted to create disturbances m the state, and, though her practices were discovered, Henry's infatuation waa so great, that the knowledge of her perfidy could not estrange him from her. A war broke out in 1600 with the duke of Savoy,* which was, however, terminated early in the following year, by a traatyr * Savoy is south of S^ itzerlaud. A.D. 1610.] HENRY IV. 373 greatly to the honor and advantage of Henry, and which ac- quired for the French monarchy sorue accession of territory. During several years which followed, and which have been called the golden age of France, few public events of any moment occurred. That which attracts most interest is the unhappy fate of marechal Biron, who, after having been the king's faithful servant in his adversities, was now found guilty of a treasonable correspondence with the Spanish government. He was beheaded July 31, 1602. While Bircn was engaged in this treason, the due de Bou- illon, one of the great leaders of the Protestants, was seen also to meditate an insurrection. But apprehensive of being arrested, he quitted France and went to Geneva.* In 1606, Henry proposed to reduce by arms the duke's httle principal- ity of Sedan, which was situate on the frontier of Flanders ; but the town surrendered at the king's approach. Letters of pardon were granted to the duke, who, hastening to the king's presence, and throwing himself at his feet, was again received into favor. Historians have dwelt much, and the duke of Sully in par- ticular, on a darling project of Henry, to unite all Christendom into a sort of Christian republic, in which each state should be secured from the aggression of any other, and thus all should be at liberty to carry on war against the infidels. In this new crusade Henry, I suppose, intended that he himself should be appointed generalissimo. He communicated the project as early as the year 1601 to his firm friend and ally, our queen Elizabeth, who, though she probably thought the plan chimerical, was too politic to discountenance it. But Henry's immediate object was to reduce the power of thf house of Austria, his inveterate, and long his dangerous enemy With this end in view, he passed the latter years of his life in putting his army into the most efficient condition, and in amassing a very considerable treasure. In the spring of 1610 he prepared to set his forces in motion, on the pretext of some disputes with the emperor Rodolph. Before his departure for the army, which he intended to command in person, the queen demanded to be solemnly crowned. Henry was unwilling to grant her request, as well on account of the expense it would occasion as the delay which it would cause to his departure. Yet he did not like to refuse her this gratification. The coronation accordingly took place with all becoming splendor, May 13, 1610. Amidst the * On the Like of Geneva, near the eastern frontier of Prance. 380 HENRY IV -lOhap. XXXl. general expression d" gayety, the. kiLg alone -wore a face of dejection, and seemed to take no pleasure in the passing scene This melancholy has been attributed by the superstitious to a presentiment of liis approaching fate, though it may naturally enough be supposed to have solely arisen from his being vexed at the delay of his enterprise. It was settled that on the 15th of May the queen was to make a grand entry into Paris. The happy citizens were busily occupied with their preparations for this pompous cer- emony. Triumphal arches were erecting in all the streeta through which the procession was to pass, and the whole city was a scene of bustle and expectation. All this joyous scene was of a sudden painfully interrupted. On May the 14th, the day after the coronation, the king went in his coach, at- tended by six noblemen, to visit Sully, who was confined ^y sickness to his house. On the way the coach was stopped in a narrow street by two carts. Instantly a man jumped upon the hind wheel of the coach, and plunged a knife into the breast of the king, who was reading a letter, and did not even see his assassin. Some authors say that the king exclaimed, " I am wounded !" others, that he expired instantly with a deep-drawn sigh. The noblemen who were in the coach closed the leathern curtain, whicli at that time served instead of blinds or windows, and ordered the coachman to drive back to the Louvre. The carriage might be tracked the whole way by the blood which flowed from it. On arriving at the palace, the dead body was laid upon a bed, and the courtiers assembled in haste and agitation to de- liberate on what was to be done. The queen was declared regent. The whole transaction passed so rapidly, that at four o'clock the king was in good health, and before half-past six the queen was established in the regency. No sooner was Henry's death known in the city than the people ran about the streets in grief and consternation. The murderer, whose name was Ravaillac, had been seized as he was still standing on the wheel, brandishing his laiife, as if in triumph. He appeared to be a bewildered fanatic, whose only motive for committing the crime was bigotry. He prob- ably thought that Henry's preparations against Spain and the emperor would operate to the disadvantage of the Catholic faith. The king's life had been attempted several times before ; and once, in 1594, he was actually wounded in the mouth by a young man named James Chatel. In consequence of a sus- picion that Chatel had been instigated to this cripae by soma CoNVJ HENRY IV. 381 Jesuits, the order of the Jesuits was banished from France, but was afterward recalled in 1G03. Henry died May 14, 1610, in the fifty-seventh year of his age, and the twenty Eecond of his reign. He had no children by his first wife, Margaret of Valois. By his second wife, Mary of Medicis, he had two sons and three daughters. (1.) Louis, who succeeded his father. (2.) Gaston, duke Df Orleans. (3.) Elizabeth, married Philip IV. of Spain. (4.) Christiana, married the prince of Piedmont. (5.) Henri- "•tta Maria, married Charles I. of England. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XXXI Mary. What a grief it must have been to that good duke of Sully, when his dear master, king Henry, was killed ! Mrs. Markhmn. You shall have the account of his af- fliction in his own words. " In the cruel heart-sinking the news of the king my dear master's murder threw me into, it occurred to me that although the wound might be mortal, there yet might remain some small sparks of life. My mind greedily snatched at this faint glimpse of hope and consolation. I called to those about me to bring me my clothes and my boots ; to saddle some good horses, and that all my people should hold themselves in readiness to accompany me. I had at that moment only two or three of my servants near me. The rest of my people believing that my illness would prevent me from stirring abroad, and even from dressing myself, had dispersed themselves difierent ways ; but the news of the king's woxmd brought them all back ; and by the time I had got on horseback, I had, including them and other persons who were attached to me, a train of a hundred horsemen. The consternation and public grief were a proof how tenderly this prince was beloved in his capital. It was very touching to see in how many difierent ways the people of this great city expressed their affection and their regrets : the groans, the tears, the mournful silence, the doleful cries, the arms raised toward heaven, the hands clasped together. This was the spectacle which every where presented itself to my view. Some persons who met me, with grief-stricken countenances exclaimed : ' Ah, sir, we are lost : our good king is dead I' " Mary. And what did Sully do when he found that the king was really dead ? Mrs. M. He turned about an ' returned homo, where. 882 HENRY IV. [Chap XXXI. overcome V(ith grief and fatigue, he took to his bed. The next day, at the pressing instances of the queen, he repaired to the Louvre. " When I found myself," says he, "in the presence of the queen, the little fortitude with which I had armed myself entirely forsook me, and I abandoned myself to sobs and tears. She, also, no longer maintained that firmnesa with v/hich she had prepared to receive me. She had the young king brought in, whose caresses and embraces were a new trial, under which my heart had well nigh sunk. I do not remember what that young prince said to me, nor what I said to him. I only know that they had some difSculty in tearing him from my arms, I held him so tightly clasped." Richard. Did Sully, like his master, change his religion ? Mr?,. M. No ; he always remained a Hugonot. The pope labored hard to prevail with him to turn Catholic, but Sully's answer was, " that he would never cease to pray for the conversion of his holiness." Sully was a grave, dignified personage, and kept up such a solemn state in his family, that it almost resembled the court of a sovereign. George. Where did he live ? Mrs. M. His favorite residence was at Villebon, about twenty leagues from Paris. Here he was surrounded by such a host of attendants, that on some occasion, when above eighty of them were ill, their absence was scarcely perceived. Mary. What could he find for such a tribe of people to do ? Mrs. M. In the first place he had his four secretaries ; then he had his Svidss guard : the duchess had her maids of honor. But the easiest way to make you comprehend the style of things at Villebon, will be to describe to you the manner of life the duke led there, after his retirement from public afl^airs. " The duke rose early. After his prayers he set himself to work with his secretaries. Their occupation consisted in arranging his papers, in looldng over and correct- ing his memoirs, in answering letters, and in various other matters of business. Thus he passed the whole morning till an hour before dinner, when he went out to take the air. Then was rung the great bell on the bridge, to give notice that the duke was going to walk. At the sound of the bell, almost all the household assembled in his apartment, and ar- ranged themselves in a file. The duke then issued forth preceded by his esquires, his gentlemen, and his ofiicers, headecl by two Swiss bearing their halberds. Some one of his family walked by his side, with whom he conversed, and he was foi< lowed by a train of officers and soldierg.' 3ui>;v.J HENRY IV. 383 Mary. O dear, mamma! and all that lusa just to take a little walk ! Mrs. M. " This solemn walk being ended, the duke en- tered the eating-room, which was a vast apartment hung with pictures representing the most memorable actions of his own life and of that of his royal master. In this room stood a table as long as the table of a refectory. At the top were two arm-chairs for the duke and duchess. All their sons and daughters, whether married or single, were seated on little stools. Such in those days was the subordination of children to their parents. They did not even venture to sit down in their p-resence Avithout permission. As soon as dinner was over, at which there would frequently be many guests, the company rose and went into another room, where, after a short time, the duke would leave them, and return to work with his secretaries, till it was time to take his afternoon walk." Mary. I hope that this time he went without all that train of people. Mrs. M. The formalities of the afternoon walk were pre- cisely like those of the morning. After a few turns the duke would commonly go through a little covered walk ■which di- vided the flower and kitchen gardens ; then up a flight of stone steps into a grand alley of lime-trees. There he would place himself on a little bench, and leaning his two elbows on a sort of summer-house window, would enjoy the view of a beautiful terrace below, of a large pond, of his park, and of a fine distant country beyond. Gecn'ge. I should like well enough to have septj? that gar- den, though I should not have liked that Swiss guard. Mrs. M. The French were at this time beginning to take gxeat pleasure in embellishing their gardens, which were usu- ally laid out in terraces, alleys, and straight rows of trees, and were full of busts, urns, and statues. Richard. Were the houses at that time as much decorat- ed as the gardens ? Mrs. M. The chief splendor of great houses consisted in the beauty of the tapestry, carpets, and bed-hangings. In all other respects there was a wretched deficiency of what we should call furniture. Excepting one or two arm-chairs for the heads of the family, the apartments usually contained only one coarse, long table, some stools, a few bencheS; ar.d several chests or coffers, which also served as soats. Mary. It would seem very strange in these days to see such a mixture of fine hangings and shabby furnitu'-c 884 HENEY IV. LCuAP. XXXI Mrs. M. When, the constable Montmorenci was killed^ ia the reign of Charles IX., he was brought to his own house End lay in state in a hall, the walls of whici were hung with crimson, velvet, bordered with pearls. The pillows of tne bed on. which he was laid W3re cover sd with gold tissue, and the quilt was of cloth of gold bordered with ermine, and was thii-ty yards square. George. I hope they did not put living men under sucb a load of quilt. Can you tell us, mamma, any thing about the houses of the middle class of people at this time ? They, J suppose, did not hang their rooms with velvet and pearls. Mrs. M. The walls of many houses were at this time wainscoted in panels. A fashion of covering them with gilt leather was also in vogue. I have met with an account of a French country-house, of the sixteenth century, which gives the following description of the principal, perhaps the only, sitting-room. " This hall was very large. At one end were a stag's antlers, which were placed there for the purpose of hanging up hats, caps, dog-couples, and the chaplet of pater- nosters. At the opposite end of the hall were bows and ar- rows, targets, swords, halberds, pikes, and cross-bows. In the great window were three harquebusses, with a variety of nets, and other apparatus for rural sports. In the coffers were coats of mail laid up in bran, to prevent their getting rusty. Under the benches was a plentiful provision of clean straw for the dogs to lie on." Mary. My dear mamma, how uncomfortable you would have been in such a littery place I Mrs. M. But amidst aU this litter there were two shelves, on which were ranged the Bible, Ogier the Dane, the Shep- herd's Calendar, the Golden Legend, and the Romance of the Rose. Richurd. So I see the Romance of the Rose was not yet out of fashion. Well, I am glad there were a few books to raake amends for all the rest ! George. Were there any great writers in the reign oi Henry IV. ? Mrs. M. The greatest writer of this period was James A-Ugustus de Thou. He wrote a long and minute general ttistory of the period comprised between the years 1545 and 1607, a work which stands in veiy high estimation. There were in this reign also several writers of memoirs. One of the most distinguished of these (after SxiUy) was Theodore J'Aubigne. He was a natui'al son of Anthony, king of Na- OoNV.] HENKY IV. 38. varre, and consequently half-brother to Henry IV. D'Aubigne was grandfather of the famous madame de Maintenon, of whom I shall have much to say when we come to the reigp of Louis XIV. Mary. I could not help being angry with the people of the League for keeping Paris so long from the king. And yet, at the same time, I felt very sorry for the sufferings of the poor Parisians. Mrs. M. Paris was so cruelly desolated during the siege, that when Henry obtained possession of it, he found the streets overgrown with grass, the courts of law deserted, many of the shops and of the houses of the nobility shut up. The suburbs presented a still more melancholy appearance ; for the houses having been abandoned by their inhabitants, had been used by the neighboring peasantry as places of shelter for their cattle. Henry's first care was to restore his capital to its former flourishing condition ; and he labored with so much success, that when the Spanish embassadors came to. Paris to complete the treaty of Vervins, they could not help expressing their admiration at the great improvement which had taken «lace an the city since they were there in the time of the "Ceague. The king replied, " When the master is absent, all *Jjings get into disorder ; but when he is returned, his presence •Hruaments the house, and all things profit." Geoi-ge. I don't know whether all things go wrong when ^ou and papa are from home, but I know the house always wems very dull without you ! Richard. Pray, mamma, when were coaches first intro- 4uced into France ? Mrs. M. In the reign of Henry II. For a long time ihere were only three coaches in Paris. The queen had one ; Diana of Poitiers had another ; and the third belonged to a "8orpulent nobleman, who, being too fat to ride on horseback, was obliged to be carried in a coach, " like a woman :" for at first coaches were entirely appropriated to the ladies, and it was considered as very effeminate for a man to be seen in one. George. But it seems that in time the gentlemen got the better of their prejudices ; for instance, king Henry IV. him- self. Mrs. M. It is recorded of Hemy that, though he was as bold as a lion on horseback, he was more timorous than a woman in a coach, and w^ould turn pale if it went the least awiy. George. I dare say it was because he was apt to be sicfc ai a carriage. I iould not possibly be from fear. R 886 HENRY IV ILSukr XX Xi Mrs. M. It was from superstitious feai. An astrologei had told him that he should die in a coach. Mary. And you see, mamma, it really did come true. Mrs. M. It is difficult for even sensible people to avoid bemg affected by a reigning folly. The reigning folly of thia age vfa.s the belief in soothsayers and astrologers, whom it was customary to consult on every occasion ; and amidst their va- rious and often contradictory predictions, it would have been very odd if some had not now and then come true. Richard. When Henry became king of France, did he be- come fond of pomp and show, as all the other kings of Franca did who went before him ? Mrs. M. He was frugal in his own habits, but encour- aged his courtiers in expense, from the principle, I believe, of benefiting trade and commerce. The expense of dress, in particular, was carried at this time to an enormous height. Mary. What made it so expensive ? Mrs. M. The quantity of gold, silver, and jewels, with which it was decorated. Dress was not only costly, but also dreadfully heavy. Gabrielle d'Estrees, one of the king's mis- tresses, was often, when she was full dressed, so encumbered by the weight of her finery, as to be unable to move, or even to stand. Ridmrd. I hope the gentlemen were too wise to overload themselves in this manner. Mrs. M. If they were not wiser they were at least stronger, and so were the better able to sustain the gorgeous weight of their habiliments. We often read of the vain followers of the court being brought to ruin by their extravagance in dress. The marechal de Bassompierre owns, in his memoirs, that he had once a coat trimmed with pearls that cost nine hundred pounds. The following is a description of a fine gen- tleman's dress in the beginning of the seventeenth century : " He was clothed in silver tissue, his shoes were white, as also his stockings. His cloak was black, bordered with rich em- broidery, and hned with cloth of silver : his bormet was of black velvet, and he wore besides a profiision of precious stones. George. I hope it never will be the fashion to wear such dresses here. Mrs. M. Before we dismiss the subject of dress, I ought to mention, that in this reign the ruff was superseded by a sort of frame made of wire and lace, in which the ladies' heads were inclosed, and which, in compliment to the queen, was called a Medici. I need not describe it particularly OoN^.] HENRY IV. 387 because you will perceive that in this little drawing sh3 is /epresented as wearing one of these Medicis. Masks were much worn at this time by men as well as by women. Tney were made of black velvet, and used by the ladies when they walked or rode, as a preservative of the complexion. Indeed, a mask was considered as so necessary a part of the female out-door costume, that a lady was thought to be in dishabilla if seen without one. Mary. And did the gentlemen wear them for the sake ol their complexions ? Mrs. M. I fear their motives were not always so inno- cent. They wore them principally, we are told, to conceal their frequenting the gaming-houses. One poor man, indeed^ the marechal Montluc, latterly wore a mask to cover the horrible disfigurements which he had received from a wound with the harquebuss. It has, I beheve, in all times and countries, been a point of civihty among courtiers to copy any peculiarity in dress which the infirmities of the sovereign may make it expedient for him to adopt. Hence the swelled feet of our Henry VIII. caused the shoes of his courtiers to expand to the width of six inches across the toe. You 'have been told how a wound in the head of Francis I. brought in short hair, and how another in his chin, which he hoped to conceal by letting his beard grow introduced the fashion of long beards ; a fashion which continued to the reign of Henry IV. In that reign, the chief pride of a fine gentleman was in his beard, which was well thickened and stiffened with wax, to make it spread out broad at the bottom. But the same knife that killed poor Henry struck at the root of these much and long-cherished beards, which were presently shaved off' in compliment to the smooth chin of his young successor. Nothing was left but a pair of thin mustaches over the upper lip, and a small pointed lock on the chin. Richard. I saw in a book lately something about Henry the Fourth's cradle. Pray do you know whether it wbs any thing so very curious ? Mrs. M. It was nothing more than the shell of a tortoise, and was long preserved — perhaps is preserved still — in the castle of Pau, which was Henry's birth-place. There is an other curiosity that perhaps may also still be foiuid there — a huge steel two-pronged fork, which was used by him, and which was thought at that time, when forks were first intro duced, a very refined and delicate invention. CHAPTER XXXII. LOUIS XIII., SURNAMED THE JUST [Years after Christ 1610-1643.] Gentleman and Lady ooino to Court. The young king, who thus succeeded to the throne on the horrid event of his father's assassination, was not yet nine years old. The parhament, as I have already said, imme- diately conferred the regency on his mother, Mary of Medi- cis, a woman not less bigoted in her devotion to Rome than the former queen-mother of that family. The character of Mary, however, is wholly unstained with the imputation of any such bloody crimes as those for which Catherine is uni- versally execrated. She was entirely under the influence of two Florentine adventurers, a man of the name of Concini, whom she made marechal d'Ancre, and his wife Leonora de Galigai. The rapid and extraordinary elevation of these fa- vorites excited almost universal discontent. It is said of Con- cini, that to repress the murmurs of the people, by showing them what fate they might expect, if they dared to censure him, he had several gibbets erected in different parts of Pans. Such means as this of stifling the expression of public feeling are seldom for the safety of those who adopt them. 4.D. 1617.] LOUIS XnL 38 J On the 3d of October, 1611, died the due de Mayenne. His death at this time was accounted a great loss to France, He was a man of integrity, and from the time of his reconcil- iation to Henry IV. had never embarked in any intrigues of Btate ; and it has been thought, that if he had lived he might have been able to check the civil dissensions which ensued. These dissensions were greatly owing to the ambitious desira of some of the princes of the blood, and others of the great nobility, to take advantage of the distractions of a new reign, and of a feeble minority, to establish their own power and in- dependence. The due de Mayenne, on his death-bed, charged his son to remain firm in his principles of religion and loyally, and only on that condition gave him his blessing. One of the first objects of Mary of Medicis and her favor* ites, was to unite themselves as closely as possible with the court of Spain. In the year 1612 were announced two in- tended marriages, the one between the young king Louis XIII. and the infanta, Anne of Austria, daughter of the king of Spain ; the other, between the princess Elizabeth, the king's sister, and the prince of Spain, afterward Philip IV. Theso marriages took place by proxy, the one at Burgos in Spain, and the other at Bordeaux, on the same day, Oct. 18, 1616, and the two princesses were exchanged in the isle of Pheas- ants, in the river Bidassoa, in the November following. The infanta was then conducted to Bordeaux, and the king, meet- ing her on the way, they made together a solemn entry into that city. In the mean time, the prince of Conde (Henry II.), and other princes and nobles, joined with the Protestants in oppo- sition to the queen. A war broke out, and the Swiss Prot estants in the king's pay quitted the service, and returned home, because they would not act against their brethren of the Bame religion. These troubles were for a time composed, in 1617, by the entire downfall of the queen and her party. A courtier of the name of de Luynes excited in the mind of the king, who was now about sixteen years of age, a jealousy of his mother and of her favorites, and proposed to him that Vi- try, a captain of the guards, should have the royal authority ■ to arrest marechal d' Ancre. The king agreed, and Vitry, at the head of a body of ruffians, who, it may be suspected, were marked out for this employment, because sometliing more than a mere arrest was intended, took an opportunity of arresting his victim on the bridge of the Louvre, and, on the marechal's putting his hand to his sword, had him instantly killed by his SgO LOUIS XIII. L<^HAP. XXXIJ followers. The king, on being informed o^ this transaction by Vitry himself, exclaimed, " I thank you : from this hour I am king ;" and made him immediately maiechal of France, The body of Concini, which li id been carried off, and buried immediately after his death, was that very evening taken out of its grave by a mob of footmen and "pages." ■ It was then dragged through the streets, and afterward cut in pieces, gome of which were hung on the gibbets w^hich he 'had him- self erected in order to frighten his enemies. His wife Leonora was beheaded by order of the parhament. She was interro- gated during her trial, what sorcery she had used to acquire her great ascendency over the mind of the queeen. " I have used none," she answered, " except that ascendency which strong minds have over the weak." The queen-mother her- self was exiled to Blois,* from whence she made her escape to Angouleme.f Soon after she had an interview with Louis at Tours, and came to a sort of accommodation with him. The reconciliation, however, did not last long, and she waa at one time at actual war with her son. To conclude at once all I need say to you of her history, I may here add, that she was again reconciled to him, but that a final breach ensued in 1630. She fled to Bruxelles in 1631, and after many sufferings from neglect and vexation, died at Cologne, July 3, 1642. On the king's approach to maturity, strong hopes were for a time entertained that he would show some portion of his father's enei^ of character. But though personally brave, and. Like many weak men, often ready to authorize very de- cisive and violent measures, he possessed no power of self- government and control, and was always, through his whole life, a mere puppet played on by the hands of others. M. de Luynes first assumed over the young monarch the dominion which the Concinis had exercised over the queen. De Luynes was a man of a proud and grasping temper, but whoUy unequal to restrain the ambition of the princes of the blood, and other nobles, who indulged themselves with impu- nity in aU sorts of disorders, and even sometimes committed hostilities against the crown. De Luynes died December 15, 1621. It has been observed of the court of France at this period, that not any one person of eminence was to be found in it, who could properly be entitled a man of honor or worth. Pride and baseness, qualities very often united, appeared U * On the Loire below Orleans. t Near the western coast, northeast of the mouth of the Garcnne. fV..D. ]()21. LOUIS XIII. ctgi be almost tht ut-iversal characteristic, and the only ability which was either possessed or valued, was the ability to cor rupt and betray. At the death of de Luynes, the celebrated Armand du Plessis Richelieu, bishop of Lucjon, and soon afterward created cardinal, was rising rapidly into distinction. He was a man of great abilities, and of consummate intrigue and artifice. He had been first brought forward by the unfortunate Concini, and afterward attached himself to the new favorite de Lu}'nes. He was for some time about the person of the queen-mother, over whom he had great influence. He is said to have per- fidiously abandoned her interests, as soon as he saw that he could advance his own by forsaking her. At all events, ho acquired a greater degree of power than any minister had be- fore possessed in France, and from the date of his admission into the royal council m 1624, to his death, is to be accounted the sole efiicient ruler of France. He reminds us in some respects of our own cardinal Wolsey, but was incomparably more crafty and artful. He accumulated in his own hands a great number of church benefices, but gave his whole atten- tion to afikirs of state. He was fond to an extreme of display and magnificence, and even assumed the dress and arms of a soldier, and the personal direction of military aflairs. The cardinal de la Valette, archbishop of Toulouse, followed in this respect the example of Richelieu. He commanded some troops in Italy, and died with arms in his hands. Cardinal Richelieu is generally spoken of with applauso and respect by French' historians, as having laid the founda- tions of the greatness of the monarchy, and of the glory which it acquired in the succeeding reign. He finally extinguished the excessive power of the aristocracy, who have never since his time been able to contend with the crown. He almost wholly suppressed also those religious wars by which the king- dom had Veen so long fatally distracted. But this he did by depriving *,he Hugonots of their just rights as subjects, rights which h \ been guaranteed to them by the most solemn treaties. He also depressed that pre-eminence of the house of Austria, which the gallant virtues of Francis I. and Henry IV. had in vain attempted to overrule. Among the Hugonots, as we have seen in Henry the Fourth's reign were many nobles of the highest dignity and power Thesf>, though they acknowledged the royal title of the sov ereign, yet possessed in their own territories the same inde« pendence which had been frcm of old the pride of the great 392 LOUIS XIII JOhav XXXll. feudatories Many considerable towns also, particularly iu the south and the west of France, were inhabited chiefly by Hugonots, and united with those princes as in a common cause. The Catholics and the Hugonots were, indeed, very nearly balanced, and the cause of the Hugonots would prob- ably have been the stronger, if, in this corrupt age many of their leaders had not been bought over by the temptations which the government threw in their way. Louis, in the beginning of his reign, had confirmed the edict of Nantes. The prince of Conde was a Catholic, yet in his treaty with the Hugonots, bearing date November 27, 1615, he pledged himself to insist on the strict observance of that edict ; and in a treaty at Loudun, in the beginning of the following year, between the king on one side and the prince of Conde on the other, the same stipulations were again repeated and en- forced. All these engagements, however, seemed made only to be violated. In 1620 the king marched into Beam, the native province and patrimony of H-enry IV., where the inhabitants were almost exclusively Hugonots. He there re-established the Roman Catholic church, suppressed the privileges of the people, and annexed the principality to the crown. The due de Ilohan, who was son-in-law of the great due de Sully, and his brother the due de Soubise, may be considered as having been at this time the chief leaders of the Hugonots. The prince of Conde forsook them. The due de Lesdiguieres, one of their most powerful chiefs, was not only bought over to desert their interests, but was also pretrailed on to abjure the Protestant religion. In 1621 the king, accompanied by these new alhes, com- pelled the due de Soubise, after a most gallant defense, to sur- render the fortress of St. Jean d'Angeli. He aftexward laid siege to Montauban,* but was repulsed with the loss of some of his bravest officers, and was at length compelled to aban- don the enterprise. In 1622 Louis marched into Poitou,t for the purpose of subduing the due de Soubise, who occupied that country with a considerable force. On the aproach of the royal army, the due retreated into the isle of Rhe, which is separated from the continent by a small arm of the sea, fordahle at low water. The king displayed on this occasion much intrepidity ; he crossed the sea under cover of the night, and stormed the duke's intrenchments. The Hugonots de- " On the Tarn, a branch of the Moselle, southeast of Bordeaux. * A. province in the western part cf France. A.D .625.] LOUIS XIII. 39J fendjd themselves without skill or energy, and almosi all of thorn were cut to pieces. The duke himself, with a few companions, escaped by swimming. Montpellier, which was gallantly defended by the due de Rohan, surrendered to the royal arms ; but the inhabitants of Rochelle, though their town was invested by sea and land, exhibited the greatest firmness and constancy. While affairs were in this state, a treaty was made at Montpellier,* by which, among other ar- ticles, the edict of Nantes was again confirmed, a general am- nesty granted, and the privilege conceded to the Hugonots of holding ecclesiastical consistories and synods. The terms of this treaty, however, were very ill observed ; and the Rochellers, enraged at the willful infraction of it on the part of Louis, who seemed utterly careless whether he gained his objects by open force or by treachery, renewed the war in 1625. One of the most remarkable events of this short war was, that the duke of Soubise, with a small fleet from Rochelle, succeeded in a daring attack on seven of the king's ships which lay at Port Louis,t which was then called Blavet, a port on the south side of the river Blavet, and op- posite to L'Orient. When he was preparing to return, the wind suddenly shifted, and for the time cut off his retreat. The king's forces in the neighborhood immediately hastened to destroy him ; but before their cannon could be brought to bear on the ships with any effect, the wind agaiij. changed and enabled him to escape with his prizes. Peace was again concluded, through the intervention of England, by another treaty confirming the edict of Nantes. and agreeing to the other just claims of the Rochellers. Louis consented also, that the king of England, Charles I., who, hav- ing married his sister, Henrietta Maria, was now his brother- in-law, should guarantee the articles of the peace. The king and his minister, however, evidently agreed to this treaty only because they felt at that time a pressing danger on the side of Italy, where, in the character of allies of the duke of Savoy, they were contending with Spain for the possession of the Val- teline. " The ruin of the Hugonots," said the cardinal to thv king on this occasion, " may be deferred without shame ; but your majesty can not, consistently with your honor, abandon the afiair of the Valteline." These disputes were concludeT , but the mayor and principal inhabitants, either being gained by the court, or not yet decided to come to extremities with their sovereign, refused to allow it admission into the harbor. On this, the duke of Buckingham attacked the isle of Rhe, though well garrisoned and strongly fortified. He landed his meii, and had he immediately urged the attack, and not al- lowed Thoiras, the French governor, several days' respite, he might probably have reduced the principal fortress on the island ; but his negligence and unaccountable delay enabled ■ihe French to replenish the magazines, and reinforce the gar- rison. The English were repulsed in repeated at^.acks, and were at length compelled to retreat. Buckingham conducted the retreat very unskillfully, and returned to England, after losing two-thirds of his land forces. He was universally con demned for his rashness and folly, and gained no credit except for his personal bravery. In the mean time the Rochellers found that their destruc- tion was resolved on. After the blockade of the town had been carried on for some time, the king joined the army, ac- companied by tho cardinal, who himself planned the lines of jircunavallation, ai»d superintended other military operations. AU communicationci */ere soon cut off" by land, but it was still necessary to prevent ihe introducing succors by sea. Riche- lieu resolved therefore to block up, if possible, the entrance of the harbor, and various floating works were devised for this purpose. But they were soon destroyed by the violence of the waves, and it was clearly seen that nothing effectual could be done unless a solid mole were thrown across the mouth of thy harbor. This immense work, a mile in extent, Richelieu accordingly undertook and completed. It was so far from the city that the besieged could not obstruct him, and it appeared strong enough to resist the force of the sea. Before this huge mole was quite finished, the English fleet, n the 1 1 th of May, 1528, once more ar leared in sight The .^.D. 16280 LOUIS XIII. 394 Rochellers crowded to their ramparts with the oxpeotaticii of immediate rehef : but the earl of Denbigh, who commanded the fleet, is thought to have been guilty either of treachery or of cowardice. He made no attempt to destroy the mole, and after throwing into the city a scanty supply of corn, declined an engagement and returned to Portsmouth. To efface this dishonor, the duke of Buckingham determined to resume the command in person. In the preceding summer, during hia distressed condition in the isle of Rhe, he had. himself received from Hochelle reinforcements both of men and of provisions. The besieged themselves were now in the greatest necessity, and nothing could exceed the general desire among the English to afixjrd them the readiest and most effective assistance. But the duke of Buckingham, while hastening the preparations for his departure, was assassinated at Portsmouth ; and the sail- ing of the armament was suspended by his death. The inhabitants of itochelle were now reduced to the ex tremest misery of famine. The greater part of them, notwith standing, still preserved their courage. The strenuous exhort- ations of some of their clergy, the determination of the mayor, and the exhortations and example of the duchess of Rohan and her daughter, who ate no other food during three months than horseflesh, with four or five ounces of bread a day, en couraged them to wait for the succors which were still prom ised from England. The command which had been held by Buckingham, was given on his death to the earl of Lindsey, who appeared oft" Rochelle on the 28th of September. He made some feeble and spiritless attempts to break through the mole, and force an entrance into the harbor. Then, after a- fruitless cannonade, he gave up all hope of success, and steered back to England. The last spark of the enthusiasm which had so long inspired the miserable inhabitants of the 1 city expired when he gave the signal of his retreat. While yet his sails were in sight, they consented to surrender, almost at discretion : and some idea may be formed of the miseries they had endured, from the account given us by cotemporary writers, that of fifteen thousand persons who were in the city when the siege commenced, only four thousand survived "iho fatal effects of famine, fatigue, and the sword. On the 30th of October the French troops entered the city. The deplorable situation to which the place was reduced ex ■ cited sentiments of horror and compassion in all who witnessed the dismal scene. The streets and houses were infected with putrid bodies. The '.nhabitants, who were more like skeletons 396 LOUIS XIII. [Chap XXKU than living beings, had toward the end of the siege become eo weak as to be unable to bury their dead. A mouthful of bread was the most acceptable present that could be made ta the survivors ; but to many it proved fatal, from the avidity with which they swallowed it. The king entered the city on the 1st of November ; and it is a remarkable sequel of thi's melancholy relation, that on the very next day a violent stonn arose, which raged for six days with unabated violence, and on the seventh buried in the waves that fatal mole which had been erected with so much labor, and to which the E,ochellera owed their rimi. The fortifications of the town were destroyed, and its privi- leges abolished ; but the king and Iris minister, satisfied with having broken the power of the Hugonots, and having wrrested from them this their strongest asylum, still permitted them the free exercise of their religion. In the following year, Nismes * and Montauban,t and other cities professing the principles of the Reformed churches, also surrendered. The Hugonots have ever since been at the mercy of the crown, ana you will see in the next reign that another signal blow of the most relentless persecution and tyranny still remained to b^ inflicted on them. Durmg the rest of tliis reign, the chief object of the French government was to repress, both in Germany, Spain, and Italy, the power of its great rival the house of Austria. Direct hostilities began in 1635. In 1636 a Spanish army on the side of the Pyrenees made itself master of the town of . St. Jean de Luz, On the side of Flanders, a stdl more con- .siderable force of the same nation invaded Picardy,:j: occupied Capelle and Catelet, passed the Somme in defiance of the French troops under the command of the count de Soissons, and in less than a week reduced the strong town of Corbie. § The Parisians were in consternation at this approach of their foes ; the sovereign himself desponded, and was silent : but Richeheu displayed great courage and magnanimity. He dismissed his guards ; he called on the wealthy to send their horses and servants, and on the poorei* classes to give their personal services. Fifty thousand men were assembled by these exertions, and were placed under the command of the count de Soissons, and the due d' Orleans, the king's * Near the moutli of the Rhone. t On the Tarn, a branch of the Garonno. t In the northern part of France. $ On tho Somrae, west of Amiens. A.D. 1642.1 LOUIS Xlil. S51 brother, who retaok Corbie, and compelled the Spaniards tc retreat. The due d'Orleans had heen for a considerable time undei the king's displeasure. He had fled from court in 1631, and married for his second wife Margaret, sister of the duke of Lorraine, who had on this occasion given him shelter and protection. This protection of the due d'Orleans Louis re- venged on the duke of Lorraine, invaded his dominions, and compelled him to surrender his capital. The duke endeavored to preserve his territories from devastation by resigning the possession of them to his brother Nicholas Francis. But this scheme failed, and the whole duchy was subjugated. The duke of Orleans, discouraged by the fate of his brother-in-law . and ally, concluded a treaty of reconciliation with Louis, and was now, as you have been told, one of the generals of the army which was employed against the Spaniards in Picardy. Both the duke of Orleans and the count of Soissons were inveterately hostile to Richelieu, and in 1636 concerted to assassinate him on his leaving the council chamber. The duko of Orleans was to give the signal ; but his resolution forsook him, and he declared that his conscience would not permit him to shed the blood of a cardinal, an archbishop, and a priest. The minister did not learn his danger till it was passed. The conspirators took refuge in flight, but a recon- ciliation was soon made with the duke of Orleans. The count of Soissons was received into Sedan by the duke of Bouillon, who, presuming on his near vicuiity to Flanders, was always calculating that Spain would assist him against France, and was always pledging, and always breaking his faith. In an action with Louis's forces under marechal Chatillon, the count was killed by a random shot in 1641, and in the fol- lowing year the duke his protector, after passing through va rious fortunes, was compelled to cede finally his principality of Sedan. Li 1641 the duke of Orleans again conspired the death of Richelieu, and on this occasion, though his own life was spared, his associates were put to death. Of the other complicated transactions of this war with Spain, which was extended over a very wide frontier, it is impossible for me here to give a distinct summary. On the whole the French acquired a progressive superiority, but did not make on the enemy's territory any very deep or decisive impression. The dachy of Savoy was one chief scene of tha contest. Tn the year 1642 the chief efforts of the French weff'* car- 398 LOUIS XIII. [CiiAP. XXXIl ried into RouslUon, in order to aid a revolt which the inha1> t:ants of Catalonia had made against Spain. Louis himself conducted his army into that quart'ir, and undertook the siege of Perpignan. Richelieu, who was to have accompanied him, was compelled by illness to stop at Narbonne. Louis returned to Paris, where he was again joinrjd by the cardinal, who, after lingering some time, died December 4, 1642, leav- ing many of his vast designs incomplete, and a name more brilliant than beloved or honored. Perpignan had in the mean time fallen before the French arms, and the war was prosecuted with vigor and success. But it was the fate of Louis soon to rejoin his ambitious min- . Jeter in that solitary mansion where neither greatness nor f^lory, unless purchased by truly virtuous exertions, is permit- ted to follow the short career of human life. A slow fever hung on him, and he felt his strength decay. The dauphin was at this time not five years old, and the king, in the hope to secure a tranquil minority, endeavored to provide for the distribution of his power in a manner which should attain this end effectually. He appointed the queen, Aime of Austria, sole regent. The duke of Orleans was de- clared head of the council, and lieutenant-general throughout the kingdom; and it was also provided that all affairs should be decided by a majority of voices in council. Both the queen and the duke of Orleans solemnly swore to adhere inviolably to this arrangement ; and Louis, to secure stiU more certainly its fulfillment, commanded the deed enacting it to be registered in parliament. This being done, he prepared for death with composure. Before he died, he earnestly desired his physician to tell him exactly how long he had to hve ; and when he was told that he could not live more than two or three hours, he testified the greatest satisfaction, and added, " Well, my God I I con- sent with all my heart." He died May 14, 1643, in the forty-second year of his age, and on the day on which he com- pleted the thirty-third of his reign. He married Anne, of Austria, who died in 1666. By her he had two sons : — (1.) Ltflis XIV. (2.) Philip, duke of Anjou, afterward duke of Orleans, who married Henrietta, daughter of Charles I. of England, by whom he had two daughters, who lived to grow up ; of whom the one married Charles 11. king of Spain, and the other Victor Amadeus, duke of Savoy. Their raothet Henrietta died in 1670 toNV.J LOUIS XIII. 69a Philip married, secondly, Charlotte, daughter of the Electoi Palatine, by whom, he had Philip, duke of Orleans, who b«« came regent of France during the minority of Louis XV. Gaston, Dukk of ORLEANr. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XXXIl. Kichard. Instead of the reign of Louis XIII., this ought JO he called the reign of cardinal Richelieu. Mai'y. Did he rise by liis abilities, like. that good duke of Sully, or only by cunning ? Mrs. MarMiam. By both together. He had a very ex- tensive grasp of mind, and being unrestrained by principle, he never rejected any project, however vast, or any artifice, however mean, by which he could attain liis ends. Indeed he said of himself, " I dare not undertake any thing till I have thoroughly weighed it ; but when once I have made my determination, I go to my end : I overturn all ; I mow down all ; nothing stops me ; and, in fine, I coAjer all with my car- dinal's robe." George. How did he first get into favor ? Mrs. M. He began his career as almoner to Mary de Me- dicis, and courted her favor as long as it could be of use to liim. But when he found his influence sufficiently established not to require any longer the queen's support, he turned upon his benefactress, and never rested till he had driven her into 400 LOUIS Xllt.. I Chap. XX.XH banisliment. He at length, assumed a deportment almost re- gal, and the idng's name was in a manner lost in that of Richelieu. To raise the glory of France, and his own glorj'-, formed in his mind one and the same object, and to the attain- ment of this object he steadily directed all his powers. Ha filled the country with the splendid monuments of his mag- nificence ; he overawed the caballing courtiers ; and extending his influence beyond the frontiers of France, depressed the power of the house of Austria, and kept all the potentates of Europe in check. George. But why would those potentates let him ? Mrs. M. There was at that time none who could pretend to cope with him. The race of the English Plantagenets and Tudors was extinct. Charles I., though a man of a refined understanding, had no enlargement of mind that could enable him to grapple ■with such a statesman as Richelieu ; and in- deed he soon became entangled with too many troubles at home to be able or inclined to interfere with foreign politics. In Spain also there was no Ferdinand or Charles V. Philip III. and his son Philip IV. were weak men, and the emperor of Germany was in no respect their superior. Richard. What were those monuments of Richelieu's magnificence which you spoke of ? Mrs. M. One of them was the Palais Royal, which ho built for his own residence, and called the Palais Cardinal ; another is the church of the Sorbonne, founded in the reign of Louis IX., but rebuilt by Richelieu, whose own tomb, one of the finest works of Giradon, a great French sculptor, is placed in it. We may also reckon among the monuments of this great statesman the Garden of Plants, which, though it bore the name of the king, was in fact the work of Richelieu. Richard. Is that the famous garden in Paris, of which I have heard so much, where there are ail sorts of curious plants, and museums of natural curiosities, and a large menagerie ot wild beasts ; where instead of being shut up in close dens they are allowed fresh air, and something like liberty ? Mrs. M. It is the same, and the whole forms a very com plete collection of all that is beautiful and curious in the ani- mal, mineral, and vegetable kingdoms. But to return to Richelieu, of whom having spoken as a minister, I must now say something as a poet and a writer of plays. Mary. A writer of plays, mamma ! W^hy that is the lasi thing I should expect of a great minister. ' Mrs. M. And yet Richelieu was much more vain of hu CoNT.] LOUIS XIII. 40J talents as a poet and a play writer, wliich were veiy indiller- ent, than of his talents, which were very great, as a politician. Not indeed that he could be said to be wanting in vanity of any sort. He was an absolute slave to vanity, and loved flat- tery and adulation to such an excess, that they were almofit as necessary to him as his daily food. George. If a prime minister loves flattery, I dare say ho may always be very sure of getting enough of it. Mrs. M. Richelieu was not only greedy, of the praises of his cotemporaries, but he was also covetous of posthumous fame. On all the magnificent public buildings erected b^ him, his ov*ti name is conspicuously placed, and his great in- ducement to encourage men of letters was, that liis own famt might be immortalized by their pens. In one way or another he has succeeded very well. Peter the Great, on seeing hia monument in the Sorbonne, exclaimed, " I would give half my dominions for one Richelieu, to teach me to govern the other." Mary. When Richelieu went to the wars, did he go in his cardinal's dress ? Mrs. M. On those occasions he laid aside the priest, and "wholly assumed the warrior. He took the title of Generalis- simo of the French armies, and appeared in the jtniddle of the troops, mounted on a superb charger, with a pjuraed hat on his head, a sword by his side, a coat embroideiid with gold, and a cuirass. Richard. I should suppose he was the last instance of a priestly warrior. Mrs. M. Not the very last. There is a sti ry of a clergy- man in Ireland, who rendered good service to on/ William III. The king wished to reward him by giving hiin a bishopric. The ministers, however, made it an objection th^it he had borne arms. The king, therefore, since he could n(.t make him a bishop, compromised the affair by making him a colonel. I have heard also of an English clergyman, whw commanded a gun-boat at the battle of Copenhagen in 1801. Mary. Was the wearing feathers in his hat the particular fancy of this cardinal, or were they worn also by other people ? Mrs. M. Richelieu was not peculiar in that respect. A Jine gentleman of this time was nothing without his panache or plume of feathers. The rest of the attire of a well-dressed man of this period is thus described : — " He was clad in a velvet OT tafiBty mantle, thrown carelessly over his shoulder. He wore white boDts with a large pair of spurs. In his hand 402 LOUIS XIL [Chap. XXX14 he carried a little switch, with which he incessantly lifted up /lis mustaches, that fell over the comers of his mouth, whilo with the other hand he smoothed down the little pointed heard on his chin." George. Upon my word, that gentleman's fingers were kept in constant employment. Mary. And now, mamma, will you tell us what the ladies were like ? Mrs. M. They were more like moving tubs than any thing else. R-ound hoops, stuffed hips, and all sorts of contrivances were resorted to, for the mere purpose, as it should seem, of disfiguring the form. Ricliard. I have always forgot to ask how Mary de Medi cis hehaved to the due de Sully ? Mrs. M. She treated him with so much neglect that he retired from court, and lived almost entirely on his own estates. Louis XIII. once sent for him to court to consult him on some important subject. Sully made his appearance in the same old-fashioned dress which he had always worn in his late master's time. The foolish young courtiers by whom Louis was surrounded began to ridicule Sully's dress, his grave ex- terior, and his solemnity of maimer. The duke, perceiving himself to be the object of their impertinent remarks, said gravely to the king, " Sire, I am too old to change my habi- tudes needlessly. When the late king your father, of glorious memory, did me the honor to enter into conversation with me on his great and important afiairs, he always, as a preamble, made all the buffoons go out." Louis took the hint, and im- mediately ordered the courtiers to leave the room. George. That was one of the wisest things Louis XIII. ever did, as far as I can find out. Mrs. M. Louis, partly from defect of nature, and partly from a neglected education, was a man of a very weak and contracted mind. He suffered also from the great disadvant- age of an impediment in his speech. His pubhc speeches were consequently very brief, and those which he was obliged to make on the opening of the parliament were generally couched in the same words, and to this effect : "I am come here on the present occasion. The keeper of the seals will leil you my intentions." George. In that speech of his, there was certainly no waste 11 words, Richard. Nor an)' attempt to " make the worse appear tha tetter reason," whirh I thi' pipa says is a common fault in aosr-l LOUIS XI1[. 403 fine orators. But 1 sujpose that although Louis's education was neglected, he was yet taught something. Mis. M. He was taught music and painting, and how to make little fortresses in the garden of the Tuileries, and hew to beat a drum. He was also taught to read, but after he became a man he was never known to take up a book. He had contracted, it is said, an abhorrence to reading, from having been made when a boy to read Fauchet's History of France. Richard. I hope that will never be the effect of reading Mrs. Markham's History of France I Mrs. M. I hope not. — The king's detestation of reading did not prove any disadvantage to literature. Both the royal printing-press and the French Academy were established in this reign. The French Mercury is also of the same date This was the first periodical work that appeared in France It contained a register of public events, and of the acts of the go"j»:rnment, together with historical notices of the state ol Krope. This publication, which formed an annual volume, met with so much success, that the authors of it were led on to project and form a register-office of various articles of mer- chandise for sale or exchange, and to print and publish adver tisei7tents of them. To these advertisements were added af- terward articles of political ncAvs ; and a paper was published weekly, under the title of Gazette, which may be considered as the first newspaper that appeared in France. The first number of the Gazette appeared in 1637. Richard. Was Paris much increased in size ? Mrs. M. It was both enlarged and beautified under the powerful influence of Richelieu's magnificent genius. The walls were extended on the northwest, and took into their cir- cuit the palace and gardens of the Tuileries, which had till then been without the city. So many fine churches and other public buildings were erected as quite to change the appear- ance of the town. George. I hope the appearance of the streets was also im- proved, and that they were not so dirty as they used to be. llrs. M. Dirt and magnificence often go together in France. The streets stiAl continued to be sinks of filth, and many of them were so narrow that when Henry, due de Guise, was a young man, it was one of his amusements to get on the roofs of the houses, and jump across the street from one roof to another. There was also another inconvenience in the streets of Paris, at least to thosa who had to traverse them at 404 LOUIS XIII. [Chap. XXXU ru'glit ; this was their darkness : there were no lamps ; and the only attempt at lighting the streets was to place large vessels called falots at the corners of the streets, filled with burning pitch and other combustibles. When lamps were afterward adopted, they were suspended over the middle of the street by chains which passed from one side to another. These dark, dirty, and narrow streets were the haunts of cut- throats and thieves, who frequented them in such numbers that it was dangerous to traverse any part of Paris without arms, and without a numerous train of attendants. George. Were there no constables and thief-takers to keep the streets clear of these people ? Mrs. M. The pohce of Paris was at that time very inef- ficient ; and, what was worse, the greater number of the thieves and ruffians, by whom the streets were infested, were lackeys and gentlemen's servants. Mary. It was a very shameful thing in the gentlemen to permit their servants to act in that manner. Mi'S. M. It was one of the consequences of the numerous train of idle retainers which the fashion of the times obliged all noblemen and gentlemen to have about them. These people were constantly lounging about the streets, and their insolences and vice became intolerable. Nor indeed did their masters always set them a good example, if it be true, as we are told, that gentlemen were sometimes known to purloin a mantle, or snatch a rich citizen's well-filled purse. It was then the custom to carry the purse hung from the girdle. Hichard. Pray, mamma, is there not some very fam.ous Fi'ench poem, which is made on Henry IV. ? Mrs. M. You mean, I suppose, the Henriade, which con- tains the history of his struggles with the League. It is es- teemed the finest epic in the French language. George. It is either because I am very stupid, or else that I don't know enough of French to find out the beauties ; but to say the truth, mamma, French poetry always appears to me sad, duU stuff. Mrs. M. I forgot, in our yesterday's conversation, to give you some account of the equestrian statue of Henry IV., which was placed by Mary of Medieis on the Pont-Neuf, The horse was the work of a celebrated Italian artist, and was sent as a present by Cosmo II., grand duke of Tuscany, to his sister Mary of Medieis. It came by sea, and the vessel widch brought it was wrecked off the coast of Normandy. The horse lay two years covered by the waves. At last i« LoNv.] LO JIS XIII. 405 was weighed up with great difficulty and expense, and was brought to Paris, Avhere a bronze statue of Henry was cast and placed on it. George. If ever I go to Paris I must remember to take particular notice of that statue. Mrs. M. I am sorry to tell you that the original statue is not now in existence. During the Revolution it was broken up and melted, and cast into cannon. It has since been re- placed by another. Among the decorations which Paris owed to Mary of Medicis, I must not omit to speak of the Luxem- burg GaUery, a collection of pictures painted by Rubens, the great Flemish painter, and which represent an allegorical his- tory of Mary's life. Mary. An allegorical history in a picture must be some thing very curious. Mrs. M. It is always, I think, something very unsatis factory. I myself dislike exceedingly to see real portrait!! mixed with figures of heathen deities, or any other imaginary personages. These pictures of Rubens are, I am assured, in point of execution, very splendid specimens of art. . It is the more to be lamented, therefore, that ths de^^ign is not more CHAPTER XXXIII. LOUIS XIV. (part I.) [Years after Christ, 1543—1079.] Louis XIV., Madame Maintenon, and Philip Duke or OblKars. No sooner was the king dead than his will was openly vio lated. Anne of Austria, having previously gained over to hei interests the duke of Orleans and the Prince of Conde, assem- bled the parliament on the 18th of May, and procured a for- mal decree which gave her the choice of the council, and in- vested her with all real authority. She was herself governed in all things by cardinal Mazarin, a native of the little town of Piscina in the Abruzzo in Italy, whose political address had introduced him to Pvichelieu, and who now became the leading minister in France. The army in Flanders, at the time of the young king's ao cession, was under the command of Louis of Bourbon due d'Enghien, son of the prince of Conde, and himself aftei ward known in history by the name of " the great Conde."' On receiving the news of tlie late Icing's death, this young prince, who was only twenty-two years of age, received orders not to risk a battle. A battle, however, being necessary for the relief of Hocroi, which the Spanjards were besieging witlr A..D. 1648] LOUIS XIV 403" a larger army than his own, he ventured to disobey these or- ders, and on the 19 th of May fought the battle of Rocroi. in which he gained a decisive victory. In this battle he charged with horse the Spanish infantry, which had been till now aeemed invincible, and, after charging three times, broke theii- ranks. The count of Fuentes, their commander, perished on the field. After this great victory he besieged and took Thi onville, and afterward carried the war into Germany. In August, 1644, he fought another battle at Friburg, and took Phihpsburg and Mentz, and several forts on the Rhine. At the end of the campaign he returned to Paris, leaving the command of his army to marechal Turenne. Turenne waa surprised by the enemy and defeated, May, 1645, at Marien- dahl. The due d'Enghien instantly returned to the army, and gained another great victory on the 3d of August, at Nordlingen. One of the enemy's generals, general Merci, wa3 among the slain. His body was interred near the field of battle ; and on his tomb was engraved the short but express- ive inscription : Stop, traveler, you tread upon a hero. Meanwhile, in Flanders, the duke of Orleans reduced Grave- lines,* Mardyke, and some other towns. On October 10, 1646, the due d'Enghien made the conquest of the important fortress of Dunkirk, which surrendered to him in sight of the Spanish army. The due d'Enghien's father died December 26, and from this time we are to call him prince of Conde. In 1647 Mazarin, envious of his glory, detached him into Catalonia with too slender a force to allow of his effecting there any thing considerable. But in the following year, the archduke Leopold having entered Flanders, and recovered several of the places which had been reduced in the preceding campaigns, it was deemed expedient to send Conde to oppose him. The prince took Ypres, and marched to the relief of Lens, which, to his great mortification, surrendered in his sight. This mortification, however, was soon effaced in the decisive battle of Lens which followed, in which the enemy's forces were totally destroyed or dispersed. Since the founda- tion of the monarchy, the French had never gained so many successive victories, nor displayed so much conduct or courage The war with the emperor was terminated this year by a peace signed at Munster, on the 24th of October, and called the peace of Westphalia, in which several important cessions were made to France. Peace was also restored between Spain and the Dutch Provinces, in which the independence * On the coast northeast of Calais. 408 LOUIS XIV. [Chap. XXXm of these provinces was -at last acknowledged, after a contest which had lasted fourscore years. Spain was thus at liberty to direct her whok force against France ; and in France it- self also civil dissensions arose, which facilitated the progresa of the Spanish arms. The unpopularity of Mazarin was the chief occasion of these dissensions. The distress of the finances, which had been much increased by the long war, drove that minister to attempt to procure money by many unjust and impolitic meth- ods. The parliament of Paris refused to register the edicts which were issued for the purpose of raising supplies. In. consequence of this refusal, one of its members was arrested. On this the populace flew to arms, shut up the shops, and barricaded the streets. Several affrays, attended with much bloodshed, took place. The chancellor was attacked as he was going to the parliament for the purpose of annulling its decrees. He was obliged to take flight, and several of his attendants were killed. His daughter-in-law, the duchess of Sully, who was in the carriage with him, received a wound in her arm. Sanson, the son of the celebrated geographer with whose huge old atlas you have sometimes amused your- self, and who was also in the carriage, was mortally wounded. This was the . commencement of the distvirbances commonly called the Fronde : — from a French verb which means to . censure, or browbeat. These disturbances were aggravated by the famous cardinal de Retz, a man of very bustling and perturbing abilities, and of very profligate morals and poHtics, who having been, much against his will, placed by his family in the church, was now coadjutor to the archbishop of Paris. He appears at first to have tried to conciliate the two parties, for the purpose, appa- rently, of improving his interest with the court ; but this at- tempt failing, he set himself at the head of the Fronde, chiefly, it is supposed, through his sheer love of intrigue, and the vanity of making himself head of a party, and of exercis- mg his skill in artifice and cabal. Nor must I forget to men- lion the duchess de Longueville, a lady of a very masculine spirit, who was one of the chief promoters of these dissensions. The "day of the barricades" was the 26th August, 1648. On the following day the barricades were removed, the shops re-opened, and affairs, to all appearance, resumed a peaceable aspect. The queen, however, thinknig Paris no place ol safety, fled to St. Germaine en Laye. a,ccoinpanied by her children, by A..1). 165J.J LOUIS XIV. . 403 Rardinal Mazarin, the duke of Orleans, and the prince of Conde. Here slie was obliged to pledge the jewels of the crown to obtain money. The king himself was often in want of necessaries. Most of the court were obliged to sleep upon straw, and the pages of the bedchamber were dismissed, from absolute inability to supply them with food. Henrietta Maria also, the king's aunt, daughter of Henry IV. and wife of Charles T. of England, who had fled for refuge to her native country, was reduced on this occasion to the extremest wretchedness ; and her daughter, afterward duchess of Or- leans, is said to have been compelled to lie in bed for want of •means to procure a fire. The court, in conformity with that cheerful or perhaps flippant humor which has always enabled the French to turn misfortune into a subject for pleasantry, consoled itself under these vexations by making a jest of the Parisians, whose inexpertness in the military art furnished a perpetual theme of ridicule. Songs and epigrams were for a time a great part of the contest. At last the king's army, under the command of the prince of Conde, invested Paris, and several conflicts took place. Many of the great nobles had joined the Fronde and the parliament ; but scarcely any one of them appears to be influenced by any better motive than the desire of personal aggrandizement. They joined the Fronde that they might be bought ovei by the government, either by money or places, or by the hand of some rich heiress ; and when they had got what they wanted, were always ready to change again. The great Conde was quite as unprincipled &s the rest. A sort of peace was made in the spring of 1649, and in August the court returned to Paris. The intriguing de Retz for a time reconciled himself to the court, that he might so purchase his elevation to the rank of cardinal, which was soon afterward conferred on liim. The prince of Conde became discontented, and incurred the displeasure of Mazarin, and was imprisoned first at Vincennes, and af"terward at Havre In February, 1651, the prince was released, and Mazarin sent into exile. Conde returned to Paris, but in the latter part of the same year retired into Guienne, of which province he was governor, and there set up the standard of revolt Mazarin soon afterward returned to court and to power. The court was at this time removed to Poitiers, whence it was obliged afterward to retreat before Conde, who had been joined by a great number of nobles, and who was reinforced also b^ a body of troops from Spain. S 110 . LOUIS XIV. icuAP xxxm. Marechal Turenne, who after having attached himself tu the Fronde, was now come oA'-er to the court party, possessed the command of the royal array. Conde, after gaining a vic- tory at Blenau, advanced to Paris in the month of April, 1652. Turenne pursued him, and a severe action, was fought in the suburb of St. Antoine, but with little advantage on either side. Many tumults and assassinations took place in the city, where the great obstacle to the restoration of tho royal authority appears to have been the extreme dislike en- tertained for Mazarin. This dislike, the king, who had nov attained his majority, found it altogether beyond his power te overrule, and this obnoxious minister was again sent into exile* on the 12th of August, 1652. Immediately after his depart- ure, a deputation from the citizens went to the king, and en- treated him to return to his capital. This accordingly he did. and tranquillity was restored. The duke of Orleans, who in this last contest had taken part with the prince of Conde, was banished to Blois, where he passed the rest of his life. Car dmal de Retz was arrested in the Louvre, and conveyed fronft prison to prison ; while the prince of Conde himself, pressed by Turenne, and feebly supported by the Spaniards, was re- duced to wage on the frontiers of Champagne a petty an() unsuccessfiil war. Such was the. termination of this war of the Fronde. From this time Louis, exercised an undisputed prerogative. Th^ country was no longer distracted by faction. The arrogance" of the nobles was again reduced within those Hmits which the policy of Richeheu had dictated. Arts and architecture, and all the splendor of this long reign, date their origin from this epoch of restored -domestic tranquillity. But whatever advantage the nation may have derived from the happy ter- mination of its internal feuds, and whatever share the vigor of the king's personal character may have had in producing it, I fear that we can not attribute to him any of that true glory which a virtuous monarch, more than any other indi- vidual, is justly entitled to from the gratitude of mankind. One of the king's first acts, after his return to Paris, was to recall cardinal Mazarin. The storm was over ; the king was master ; and though, only a few months before, the ex- pulsion of this minister had been the principal object of the civil war, he was now received without the least opposition The parliament, which had before set a price on his head, sent deputies to compliment him ; and soon after passed sen- fonce. ot death on the prince of Conde, whose part it had A.D, 1659.J LOUIS XIV. 413 lately been taking, and whom it had declared the general of its forces. That prince, fortunately for him, was beyond the reach of its jurisdiction. He was now the commander of the Spanish forces in the Netherlands. In 1654, in conjunction with the archduke, he laid siege to Arras, which was, however, relieved by Turenne, who in the following year took Landreci and Quesnoi ; and in 1656, though repulsed from Valenciennes, laid siege to and took La Capelle. The prince of Conde, in these active campaigns, though engaged in the service of the enemies of his country, had not lost any thing of his military genius. But in Turenne he had a rival who equaled him in abilities, and who seemed now to have become the favorite of fortune. An alliance with Cromwell, which had been concluded in 1655, gave also a new accession to the power of Louis. To purchase this alhance, Louis expelled from the French do- minions the exiled princes of the English royal family, who, on the downfall of their cause at home, had naturally sought refuge in a country of which the reigning king was nephew to their mother, Henrietta Maria, and in which their grand- father, Henry IV., had been the most popular monarch of his race. Cromwell now insisted peremptorily on their expul- sion, and to this demand Louis had the meanness to consent. On quittmg France, the English princes found an asylum in the Spanish territories. England and France were thus for a time united. Mai dyke and Dunkirk, which had been recovered by Spain during the late civil commotions in France, were successively taken by Turenne, whose progress Conde vainly opposed. These towns were put into the hands of Cromwell, though Louis would fain have kept them for himself. Cromwell dying poon after, his son Richard became protector, and his title was recognized by the court of France. Turenne's career of victory still continued in Flanders. After the surrender of Dunkirk, he took Furnes and Dixmude, Oudenarde, Menin, Gravelines, and Ypres. The arms of France were also suc- cessful on the side of Italy ; and in 1659, the court of Spain, wearied out by reverses, made overtures of peace, which Mazarin gladly accepted. The war was concluded Novembei 7, 1659, by the treaty of the Pyrenees, in which it ". 1667.J LOUIS XIV. 413 and Holland, Louis interfered as the ally of the Dutch but this war was remarkable for little else but the hard fig; ting which took place between the Dutch and the English fleets, and the daring enterprise of the Dutch, who sailed up the Thames, and burned the English ships in the Medway. Thia war between England and Holland was concluded by the treaty of Breda in 1667. But another war had broken out, even before this was eoncluded. Philip IV. of Spain had died, in 1665, and left by his second wife, Maria Anne of Austria, a son, Charlea II., the sole male heir of his extensive dominions. By his first wife he had one daughter, who was now queen of France ; and though in the treaty of the Pyrenees Louis renounced all claim in her right, of succeeding to any of the territories of the Spanish crown, he now set at naught this solemn renun- ciation, and claimed Flanders, Brabant, and Franche Comte, The emperor Leopold, though as head of the Austrian family he was expressly bound to protect the interests of the infant king of Spain, consented that Louis should take possession of Flanders, on condition that he himself should be suffered, in the event of Charles's death, to annex Spain to his own do- minions. It is said that Leopold was so much ashamed di this bargain, that he insisted it should be kept a secret from all the world, and that there should be only one copy of the treaty containing it, and that one kept in a metal chest with only two keys — one key for himself, and the other for the king of France. The French army, with Louis hirnself at its head, the skillful Turenne commanding under him, entered Flanders in May, 1667. The celebrated Colbert had been minister of finance for some years, and had placed more resources in the king's hands than had ever been possessed by any former sov- ereign. Louvois, minister of war, had made great military preparations, particularly by distributing magazines along the frontiers — a method of providing for the efficient power of an army, which, amid the disorders and the poverty of earlier periods, could not be adopted to any considerable extent. The young nobility flocked with ardor to carry arms under • the immediate eye of their sovereign, and submitted even with pride to the strict discipline which he enforced. At the head of this army the king took, with little resist ance, several tovras in the Netherlands, and excited alarm even in Bruxelles itself. In the following year, the prince oi (jonde, now again at the head of a French arrav, redv^e: il4 LOUIS XIV. LCuAi- XX XIII with ease the whole of Franche Comte. England, HoUandj and Sweden, however, apprehending that the ambition of the youthful monarch menaced danger to the independence of Europe, interfered as mediators, and a peace was concluded, May 2, 1668, at Aix-la-Chapelle, by which Louis restored Franche Comte to Spain, but retained all his acquisitions in Flanders. Notwithstanding these acquisitions, he felt great- ly indignant at the check given to his ambition by the other powers of Europe ; and was particularly ofiended that the new republic of the United. Provinces, to which France had been till now a steady ally, should have presumed to oppose him. His conquests in Flanders gave him an easy access to the Dutch frontier, and he determined to take some future' opportunity of profiting by this advantage. In truth, he made peace only that he might prepare for war with better means, and a greater certainty of success. One great object was to detach Charles II. from his alli- ance with Holland. To effect this he prevailed on Charles's sister, the duchess of Orleans, to go to England, and use hei influence with her brother, and also to take with her a beau- tiful Mademoiselle de Keroualle, by whose charms he hoped that Charles might be captivated. These two embassadresses succeeded so well, that Charles consented to break his en- gagements with the states, and to join with Louis in a new war against them. Mademoiselle de Keroualle was after- ward made duchess of Portsmouth, and was long the reigning favorite of the English court. Louis succeeded also in in- ducing the emperor and the king of Sweden, and also the tninor neighboring states on the Rhine, either to second, or to iriew with indifference, his design to humiliate the power of Holland. To this little republic there remained no ally but Spain — that very state with wlaich it had contended during 60 many years for the blessings of liberty and independence. In 16''2 the king burst into the Dutch provinces at the head of a most formidable and numerous army. He passed the Hhine, which, from the dryness of the season, was very low. There was nothing very hazardous or difficult in this passage ; but it sounded as a great achievement in the ears of the Parisi?-ns, and was magnified and panegyrized by the wits and poets. Louis soon made himself master of the three provinces of Gueldres, Overyssel, and Utrecht. Groningen and Frizeland were open to him, and there remained to the Dutch scarcely any means of opposing him, except in the strength of thos* il.D. 167i>.j LOUIS XIV. 415 fortified towns wliieh still protected the provinces of Holland and Zealand. Naerden was taken, a town three leagues from Amsterdam ; and it is said that Muyden Avas saved only by the singular presence of mind of a woman. Fourteen strag- glers of the array having appeared before the gates, the magistrates surrendered it, and sent them the keys ; but they were kept out of the castle by a female servant, who raised the drawbridge, and prevented them from entering. The magistrates afterward finding the party so weak, made them drunk, and took the keys from them. Muyden is so near to Amsterdam that its cannon can play on the ships which enter the harbor.* In the battle of Solebay, fought on the 7th of June, in which De Ruyter commanded the Dutch fleet, and the duke of York and the count d'Estrees the combined fleets which opposed him, neither side gained any decided advantage. De Ruyter, who had been in no less than thirty-two actions, de- clared that this was the most obstinate of them all. Turenne and Conde urged Louis to follow up his splendid success in the eastern provinces by pressing forward against Holland and Zealand. To this end it would have been nec- essary to dismantle most of the towns already taken, that the troops left to garrison them might reunite with the army. But the dismantling of them seemed inexpedient to Louvois, and was abandoned in consequence of his opposition to it. It is thought that otherwise all the provinces must have fallen. But they were again destined to be saved, as they had so often been before, during the long struggles which they sus- tained for their independence. They sent embassadors tc entreat pity and forbearance ; but the conditions exacted both by Louis and Charles were altogether intolerable even to men plunged in despair. They resolved, therefore, to maintain a courageous resistance, and with the more hope, because they saw kindling in other countries the apprehension that Louis would become too dangerous a neighbor if he were permit- ted to achieve the conquest of their republic. An insurrec- tion of the populace conferred the stadtholdership on the prince of Orange. This prince (afterward William III., king of England) Avas a man of sound and steady resolution, and bent all liis faculties to oppose the power of France. * Amsterdam was saved by laying under water the low ground sni- rounding the city, and this was done by opening the sluices of the canals, which, if the French had kept possession of Muyden, might have bee« prevented. 416 LOJIS XIV [Chap. XXXm 4.bout Christmas, marechal Luxemburg, who was statici* ed at Utrecht, made an attempt to take the Hague by sur prise. He marched twelve thousand men over the ice, and would probably have succeeded if a thaw had not come on. His troops being surrounded by water, were in the greatest danger of perishing. They had no other road but the top of a narrow dyke, where only four men could march abreast ; and a fort was in their way, which, as they were without artillery, it seemed impossible for them to take. But fortu- nately for them the governor, from excessive cowardice, made no kind of resistance ; and the French, who otherwise must have inevitably perished, secured by this means their retreat to Utrecht. In the year 1673, both the emperor and the king of Spain openly declared themselyes the allies of the Dutch. Three .'ndecisive actions were again fought at sea with De Ruyter by the combined fleets under the command of D'Estrees and prince Rupert, one on the 7th, another on the 14th of June ; the third and last on the 21st of August. Louis took Maes- tricht ; but the prince of Orange, uniting his forces to those of Montecuculi, the imperial general, cut off the communica- tion between France and the Dutch provinces, and obliged the king to recall his forces, and precipitately abandon his conquests. In 1674 Louis was abandoned by England. Charles, though loth to desert an ally, vv^lio, by furnishing him with money for his private expenses, kept him in a willing though most abject state of dependence, could no longer withstand the clamors of his people, and made peace with Holland on the 9th of February. He still refused to recall a body of ten thousand men, who were serving in the French army, but ho conditioned with the states not to recruit them. Louis, how- ever, undismayed by this desertion, made vigorous head against all his enemies. He invaded Franche Comte in person with a powerful army, and reduced the whole province in the course of six months. In Alsace Turenne gained splendid advant- ages ; but the unnecessary ravages which he permitted throw a cloud over his reputation which the greatness of his military successes can not and ought not to be allowed to remoye. He laid waste with fire and sword the whole fertile district of the palatinate of the Rhine, exercised on tlie defenseless and unoflending inhabitants the most cruel acts of outrage, and almost converted the country into a desert. The elector palatine beheld a'i one time, from the waUs of his palace at A..D. 1'379. I LOUIS XIV. «J Manheim, two cities and twenty-five vLlages in flames. The prince of Conde, meanwhile, encountered the prince of Or- ange in Flanders ; and the comte de Schomberg, who com- manded in Rousillon, effectually defended the French frontier on the side of Spain. In the foUowmg campaign, which was very warmly dis- puted, Turenne and Montecuculi opposed each other on the Rhine. Turenne was killed in a battle near Sasbach. The prince of Conde, who succeeded to his command, confirmed by his continued ability and success the renown which had acquired for him the surname of " the great." At the end of the year he retired from the service, and passed tne short remnant of his life at Chantilly. He died in 1686. Monte- cuculi retired at the same time, unwilling, it is said, to ex- pose in contests with younger adversaries the reputation which he had acquired as the rival of Conde and Turenne. Thus terminated, nearly at the same time, the military career of the three greatest generals in Europe ; and in the following year De Ruyter, who had gained on another element a fame not perhaps any way inferior to theirs, was killed in an action with a French fleet, in the Mediterranean. Notwitlistanding the loss of these great men on both sidea, the war continued to be carried on with great vigor, and on the whole with advantage to the arms of France, but to the great exhaustion of all the countries concerned. By the mediation of the king of England, who in 1677 had given his niece Mary to the prince of Orange in marriage, the peace of Nimeguen was concluded in the summer of 1679. By this peace Louis retained Valenciennes, and many other towns in the Netherlands, and also Franche Comte, which, having once before been pledged to France as the dower of Margaret of Burgundy, now became, after a long lapse of years, an integral part of the French dominions. A separate treaty with Holland had been concluded in the August of the preceding year. The prince of Orange was highly disgusted with this treaty , the terms of which he thought too advantageous to France. Four days after it was signed he attacked marechal Luxem- burg near Mons. Four thousand men were slain in this ac- tion. It was supposed, but apparently without sufficient foundation, that the prince knew of the treaty, though ha professed to bo ignorant of it, and that he made this wantou sacrifice of so many lives with a view of breaking it, and ol prolonging the war. 118 LOUIS XIV. [Chap. XXXllJ This peace placed Louis at the pinnacle of his glory. In flated with succesSj he listened with complacency to the adu- lation of his courtiers, who persuaded him that he was in- vincible abroad and omnipotent at home. In fact, every thing conspired to -raise in him a high opinion of himself. Eut if he had looked beyond himself, he would have seen that the high position in which he stood was in part owing to other causes than to his own inherent greatness. The youth and incapacity of Charles II. of Spain, and the indo- lence and vices of Charles II. of England, had sunk those two monarchies below their natural scale in the balance of Europe. The prince of Orange, Louis's chief opponent, was a man of simple habits, and averse to boasting and parade, and hence his actions were less blazed forth to the world than those of the vain-glorious monarch of France, who, in his own opinion and that of his dazzled subjects, was regard- ed as superior to all the Ifings and warriors either in modern or in ancient history. liOMS XIV. HUNTINO CoNv.j LOUIS XiV. 418 CONVEllSATION ON CHAPTER XXXIll. Geoj'ge. We are no sooner rid of Cardinal Richelieu than 424 LOUIS XIV. 1.CHAP XXXIIl. the evil comisels of the Jesuits, his confessors. He was ex tremely. good-tempered ; but this quality was often neutral- ized by his rigid conformity to rules and etiquettes, and often abused by his too great lenity to dissolute persons. The onlj quality in him which remained unimpaired by the unwhole some atmosphere of a servile and vicious court, was his indus- trious application to business. To this homely virtue he owes, more than to any other, his great reputation, particu- larly now that the glare which his conquests and his pomp jast around him is faded away, Ricliard. What memorials are left of him in France ? Mrs. M. It would be difficult to recapitudate them all. The harbors of Brest, Toulon, and Dunkirk, the navigable canal of Languedoc, which joins the Atlantic to the Mediter- ranean, and the excellent roads which lead to and from the metropolis, all tend to keep Louis in almost constant fremem brance. I ought, however, to add, that all these works were greatly promoted by his enlightened minister, Colbert. Louis also reformed the police of Paris, and repressed the insolences and excesses of that tribe of lackeys who in the former reign had made that city a den of thieves. George. After all, then, Mazarin did not so much over praise him, when he said there was stuff enough in him to make one honest man, to say nothing of the four kings. Mrs. M. He had many kingly qualities, which were by no means incompatible with the honest man. He was ex- tremely generous, and had a gracious and obhging manner of conferring favors, which greatly enhanced their value. Na- ture, among the profusion of her gifts, had bestowed on him a fine-toned voice, which gave grace and expression lo every trifling word that he uttered. There was also a certain grandeur about him which inspired the most audacious person with respect and awe. He was studiously pohte, and the sort of deportment which we are apt to call the manner of the old court traces its origin to those punctilious attentions which liouis practiced and exacted in his court. He liked to see nimself surrounded by a numerous throng of courtiers. An- quetil, in his History of the Court of Louis XIV., says, " The king at his rising, at his going to bed, at his repasts, in passing in the apartments, in the garden, and in the chase, looked to the right and left, remarking every body, and would instantly perceive if any person was absent whose state or office required him to be in attendance." No monarcji ever kept his courtiers in completer subjestion ; all bung u^on his CoNV.] LOUIS XIV. t^A words and watched his looks. The court often congiated of as many as six hundred persons, inchiding both sexes. It was impossible to confer frequent and substantial benefits on such ■ a host. Louis therefore invented a variety of ideal favors, which answered his purpose quite as well, and became objects of vehement ambition. Mary. What could these make-believe favors be ? Mrs. M. The permission to wear a peculiar sort of dress, ths being ordered to accompany him in a promenade or on a journey, an invitation to a fete, the being allowed to hold a wax candle during his undressing, and many other equally insignificant matters. On the other hand, the being banished from court was regarded as little less dreadful than a sentence of death. Gea?-ge. I can not make up my mind which I should have disliked most, to have been one of these six hundred courtiers, or to have been the king himself, always followed about by such a crowd of gaping, aping people. Mrs. M. The king was the most exact man in the world. Every movement of the court was regulated by clock-work. His private life, like that of his grandfather Henry IV., was very immoral. Madame de Maintenon has been supposed to have been one of his mistresses, but she was in reality his wife, he having privately married her after his queen's death. Louis's mistresses might more properly have been called his slaves. He required their constant attendance, and, sick or, well, they were to be always full dressed and ready to dance, or to appear at fetes, or to go on a journey, or whatever he chose to do. They were never to be weary, or to mind heat or cold, and, above all, were to be always gay and good- humored. Mary. That was the hardest part of all. Richaixl. Did the courtiers all live in the palace ? Mrs. M. The greater part of them, I believe, at least when the court .was at Versailles. Richard. I have heard my uncle speak of Versailles, and say it was more like a city than a palace. Mrs. M. Louis XIV. (from disgust, as is thought, to the Fronde) took a great aversion to Paris, and never liked to re- eide there. His court was at first held at St. Germains, but was moved afterward to Versailles, which, from only a plain hunting lodge built by his father, he converted into one of the most splendid and extensive palaces in Europe. It ia far from being one of the most beautiful , it is quite a laby- ;*d ^OUIS XIV. lChai. XXXlll tinth of buiJdnig ; and all symmetry or proportion, which is the erfsence of beauty it architecture, is confounded in its im mense size. Richard. I think you said that Louis was extremely ig- norant. Surely that was not a very kingly quahty. Mrs. M. He had no natural love of learning, and those precious hours of his boyhood which he ought to have passed in useful study were spent with his mother and her ladies. By the sort of educatioi. which he gained in their society, his manners acquired a high degree of refinement, but his mind remained unfurnished with useful and solid knowledge. His ignorance of the history of past times prevented him from forming correct judgments of the times he Hved in. He believed himself to be the greatest man who had ever exist- ed. He was equally unable to judge of others as of himself, and his ignorance was a source of perpetual miscalculations and mistakes. George. I see, then, that learning is as necessary for kings as it is for poor folks who have to get their living by it. MfS. M. Knowledge is to the mind what eyes are to the body, and none but foolish or conceited people would wish to continue blind, when with a little exertion they may obtain the blessing of sight. Mary. Was not this king's reign very long ? Mrs. M. It lasted sixty-three years, and may be divided .into three distinct periods : his minority, his manhood, and his old age. The first, as you have already seen, was a pe- riod of turbulence and disorder. The second was full of triumph and glitter ; but in the third period his fortunes de- clined. His old age was, as you will find in the next chap ter, a melancholy series of mortifications and reverses, f^ lowed by aJ!flicting family losses. CHAPl'ER XXXIV. tOIfIS XIV.— IN CONTINUATION [Years after Christ, 1079—1715.] Statue or Corneii.ls. The lestoratioii of peace did not relax Louis's preparations Cor future enterprises. He augmented with the greatest pos- sible industry the naval and military strength of his kingdom. He strengthened and extended his line of defense in Flanders, on the Rhine, and in Italy, and this partly by measures which, though professed to be merely in execution of the treaty of Nimeguen, differed little from actual war. He seized on Strasburg^ a free and opulent city, and, fortifying it, made it one of the strongest posts on his frontier. He set up a claim to the town of Alost in the Spanish Netherlands, as- serting that a stipulation of its being ceded to France had been left out of the treaty tlorough mere forgetfulriess ; and when the Spaniards would not listen to so vain a pretension, he caused his troops to form the blockade of 'Luxemburg. Hi instigated the Turks to attack the emperor on the side of Hun- gary. They penetrated to Vienna, and Louis then for the moment withdrew his army from before Luxemburg, de* 42R LOUIS XIV. [Chap. XXX IV. daring that while '-he Turks were in the empire, he would make no attack 011 any Christian prince, nor prevent Spain from giving aid to expel them. The Turks were no soon(;r repulsed, than Louis renewed hostilities ; besieged and took Courtrai, Dixmude, and Luxemburg, and also seized Treves, and demolished its fortifications. All this, he said, was to carry into effect the spirit of the treaty of Nimeguen. But during these operations the Imperialists and Spaniards opened a negotiation with him at Ratisbon, and it was agreed that the peace of Nimeguen should be converted into a truce for twenty years, and that France should retain possession of Luxemburg. The date of this truce was in August, 1684. The year 1665 is the epoch of the worst blot in the whole of Louis's character, the revocation of the edict of Nantes, and the persecution of the Hugonots. Cardinal Mazarin had never been a persecutor. During the life of Colbert, the influence of that wise minister had protected the Hugonots against their numerous enemies. He found them useful and intelligent subjects, and encouraged their industry as much as lay in his power. But Colbert had died in 1683. Louvois, a man whom no sense for human suflering seems ever to have diverted from any design, and his father, Le Tellier, who was now chancellor, spared no efibrts to induce the king to exterminate them.. The Catholic clergy and the ^ihurch of E-ome pressed their destruction ; and the king himself w».s sufficiently dis- posed to think that his will ought to b*^. law in every matter in which he chose to interfere. In the years 1681 and 1682, several steps had been taken against the Hugonots, which could not but excite among them • the greatest alarm. Many of their places of worship were shut up. They were expelled from civil offices ; they were excluded as much as possible from all situations of profit ; and their children were allowed and encouraged, evea at the early age of seven years, to abjure the religiwn professed by their parents, and were admitted as converts into the Hoinan Cath- olic church. These severities had induced several families, particularly in Poitou, Saintonge, and the neighborhood, to abandon their country, while they were yet able to do so, and to take refuge in Protestant states. On this it was ordered that all seamen and artisans who should attempt to make their escape from the country should be sent to the palleys ; and as several families were observed to be selling theiff lands and houses, it was further ordered, that the property stould K.D. 1685.] LOUIS XIV. 429 be confiscated if the sellers should qu.t the country in les« than a year after the sale. Some commotions heing excited by these tyrannical pro- ceedings, Louis, toward the end of the year 1684, and in the beginning of 16So, sent bodies of troops to enforce obedience to his commands, and compel the Hugonots to embrace Cath- olicism. Of these ti'oops many were dragoons, and from the cruel license and excess which they practiced in the harsh office committed to them, this persecution is often entitled by French writers the " Dragonade." Louvois declared it to be " his majesty's will that the greatest rigors shall be executed on those w^ho will not adopt his religion, and that such as have the stupid vanity to hold out to the last should be pur sued to the last extremity." On those who refused to obey these commands the troops were quartered at discretion, consumed their provisions, pil- laged their houses, destroyed their effects, and seized whatever belonged to them. They next attacked their persons, and tortured them in a thousand ways, without any distinction of sex or age. Numbers, who remained firm and unshaken, were thrown into dungeons ; or if by chance any of them es- caped into the woods, they were pursued like beasts of prey, and like them massacred without mercy. The females were placed in the convents, where the nuns in their zeal would not suffer them to enjoy repose, till they consented to attend the mass. All vt^ere reduced to a state of the utmost poverty and wretchedness, ; and their places of worship were razed to the ground. By the twelfth article of the revocation of the edict of Nantes it was decreed " that the Hugonots, till it should please God to enlighten them, might continue to reside in the kingdom, pursue their commerce, and enjoy their property, without being subject-to trouble or molestation on account of their religion, on condition that they should not publicly pro- fess it, nor assemble under pretense of reading prayers, or performing any other act of worship v/hatever." But no at- tention was now paid to this article. The soldiers were left in the provinces, where their outrages daily became greater and greater. There was no safety but in flight ; and at the same time the strictest precautions were taken to deprive the un- happy victims of this horrible tyranny of all possible means of escape. The guards were doubled on all the frontiers. The peasants were ordered to attack the unhappy fugitives wherevei they met them. Soldiers were dispersed over every part of »30 LOUIS XIV. [Chap. XXX IV the country. T'lie strictest orders were issued to those who kept the barriers to prevent any person from passing. AIJ who were taken were thrown into prison, stripped of what little they had saved from the general wreck, separated from their wives and families, loaded with chains, put to the tor- ture^ and exposed to all the evils which the savage ingenuity of their guards could invent. But notwithstanding the vigilance of the government, not less, it is said, than half a million of people found means to escape, and carried into foreign and rival nations, not only the money which they had been able to save, but also, what was still more valuable, their skill in manufactures, and their hab- its of industry. Nearly forty thousand took refuge in England, where they were received with open arms : and we meet daily in the most respectable walks of life with the descendants of these unhappy refugees ; a large proportion of whom, in this their adopted country, have both earned for themselves, and transmitted to their descendants, a deservedly high reputation. Nearly four hundred thousand, who still continued in France, were compelled to attend mass, and to receive the sacrament, according to the rites of the Roman communion. History since that time has said but little of the French Protestants The government has, on the whole, grown milder in its prin- ciples, and has begun to learn somethmg, from long and sad experience, of the crime and folly of persecution. Liberty of conscience, however, never became perfect in France till the era of the revolution of 1789, which mingled with its many evils and shocking outrages, the great good of enfranchising those who differed from the established religion. In 1686, chiefly through the influence of the prince of Orange, a new league, which united Germany, Holland, and Spain against France, was formed by the treaty of Augsburg. Savoy also acceded to this alliance. The formation of this league did not escape Louis's vigi- lance, and he exerted himself to anticipate the designs of his enemies. In September, 1688, he detached an army of twenty thousand men, with the dauphin at their head, mare chal Duras commanding under him, against the Imperialists. Philipsburgh, Manheim, and other towns, were soon taken At the same time, his attention was forcibly drawn to En gland, where events the most important were now taking place, events which at length terminated in carrying the whole strength of that nation into the interests of his mofct det.^r- mined adversaries. * A.D. 1690.] LOUIS XIV. «3! Charles II. had died in 1685, and was sacceeded by hia brother James II., whose rash zeal for the church of Rome, together with his arbitrary principles of government, com- pelled his subjects to throw off his authority, and to call in the prince of Orange to their assistance. William prepared immediately to invade England. Louis soon learned, through M. d'Avaux, the French envoy at the Hague, the real object of William's preparations, and immediately conveyed the in- telligence to James. At the same time he offered to reinforce the English fleet vv^ith a French squadron, or to send over tc England any number of troops ; but this offer was rejected by James, who feared to increase the dissatisfaction of his suh jects. Louis then proposed to march an army into the Neth erlands, and so to detain the Dutch in the defense of their own coimtry. But this proposal was also declined. James abdicated, and the prince of Orange, who succeeded him, was no sooner raised to the throne than he bent all his efforts to strengthen the powerful confederacy against France, which he himself had been already the chief agent in forming. In March, 1689, Louis sent thirteen ships of the line to escort James to Ireland, where he had still a party in his fa- vor. The first success exceeded his expectations ; but in the battle of the Boyne, fought July 12, 1690, in which Jame? had the assistance of six thousand French troops, the arms of William obtained a decisive victory. James returned t. 1711. J LOUIS XIV. t3f lers showed themselves worthy opponents of the distingu' shed generals whom they had to encounter. Tn the close of this year the pope acknowledged Charles III. as king of Spain, Naples, and Sicily. In 1710 Louis again sued for peace, and added new con- cessions to those he had proposed the year before. Among the rest, he offered to ratify the pope's acknowledgment of the archduke Charles ; to give no assistance to his grandson Philip, and even to advance a sum of money to the allies, to be used by them in carrying on the war against him in Spain ; to raze the French line of fortresses on the Rhine ; to demol- ish the fortifications and fill up the harbor of Dunkirk ; and to cede to the Dutch a strong frontier in the Netherlands. He consented also to acknowledge the title of queen Anne to the throne of England, and to expel the Pretender from France. Conferences to take these terms into consideration were opened at Gertruydenburg, in the month of March. But the allies, intoxicated with success, refused them even with insult, and demanded that Louis should himself undertake to expel his grandson from the Spanish throne. This ignominy Louis, overwhelmed as he was, rejected with scorn, exclaiming : " Since I must make war, I had rather make it against my enemies than my children." The war was accordingly renewed. Louis had again the mortification of seeing the allies successful in Flanders. In Spain, however, after many fluctuations of fortune, Philip gained the decided advantage, and at length acquired pos- session of the whole kingdom, with the exception of the prov- ince of Catalonia. In 1711 the efforts of Villars in the Netherlands were doomed again to sink before the superior genius of Marlbor- ough, a general whose rare destiny it was never to experience any serious repulse. But though triumphant to the close of his military life, the altered policy of his court made this his last campaign. An extraordinary change of parties took place in England. The new ministers determined to make peace, and Marlborough was compelled by their conduct to resign his command in the Netherlands. Pie was succeeded by the duke of Ormond, v/ho had private instructions not to fight. Preliminaries of peace with England were signed in London in the month of October, 1711. On the 29 th of January following a congress was opened at Utrecht ; and on the 17th of July, 1712, the English troops withdrew from the army of the allies |3B LOUIS XIV. [Chai XXXIV Prince Eugeim, though thus deserted, was still formiilable , but his army was routed on the 24th of the same month at Denain, hy marechal Villars. It is said that prince Eugene had sent a plan of his position to Marlborough, who was at this time at Aix-la-Chapelle, and that the duke seeing the danger to which he was exposed, instantly dispatched a courier to warn him of it ; but the courier did not arrive till it was too late. Several fortresses fell into Villars' hands after this victory, which was the more important, as it cheered the spirits of the French nation — a nation always ready to be re- animated by the first symptoms of success, and raised the tone and confidence of its embassadors in the pending negotiation at Utrecht. The strength of the French interests had also received previously a great accession in consequence of the death, April 17, 1711, of the emperor Joseph, who had suc- ceeded his father Leopold in 1705. Joseph was succeeded by his brother, the archduke Charles, the competitor of Philip V. for the crowl^ of Spain, who thus became the em- peror Charles VI. Europe in general was even more unwill- ing to see the union of Spain and the empire in the hands of the same prince of the house of Austria than that two princes of the house of Bourbon should be in possession of the thrones of France and Spain. Treaties of peace with Great Britain, Hollaiid, Prussia, Portugal, and Savoy, were signed at Utrecht in the spring and summer of 1713. By these treaties Philip was acknowl- edged king of Spain, but at the same time renounced, both for himself and his descendants, all future succession to the throne of France. Similar renunciations of all succession to the Spanish territories were made by Louis for the whole house of Bourbon. Louis recognized the title of Aime, and also the succession of the house of Hanover to the crown of England. He consented to raze the fortifications of Dunkirk, and to ceJe to England, Newfoundland, Hudson's Bay, Acadia, and the island of St. Christopher's. It was stipulated that the empe- ror should have Naples, Milan, and the Spanish Netherlands : that tke duke of Savoy should have Sicily wdth the title of king : that Lille and its dependencies should be restored to France ; but that the frontier of the United Provinces should be strengthened by the possession of Namur, Charleroi, Lux emburgh, Ypres, and Nieuport. The emperor alone continued the war ; but in the follow- ing year he also agreed to make peace, and a treaty was con- aluded between him and Louis at Baden, Sept. 7, 1714 li.V. 1 15. J LOUIS XIV. 43S The Catalans, with uncalculating ff.atermination, and al^ thoug.i forsaken both by the empire and by England, still dared to maintain the contest a short time longer. But Bar- celona, their capital, after sustaining a severe struggle, at length capitulated, and they were compelled to submit. Thus Louis at last saw the termination of that disastrous war which, though it had strikingly displayed the great re sources of his kingdom, yet had reduced it to extreme wretch- edness and poverty. The unreasonableness of the allies, in- deed, in rejecting those conditions which had, in 1710, been offered at Gertruydenberg, had been justly punished by their own subsequent divisions, and by the natural consequences of those divisions. The humiliation of France had been in the same measure relieved ; but misery enough remained to show, in frightful colors, the crime and folly of ambition, and to prove to the king, who was now seventy-six years old, and visibly drawing near his end, that he had altogether mistaken the true business of life, and all the ends for which his power had been given. Domestic afflictions, also, fell heavily on him during the last years of his life. The dauphin, the only one of his legitimate children who survived infancy, had died April 14, 1711, leaving three sons, the due de Burgundy, Philip king of Spain, and the due de Berri. The due de Burgundy, a prmce of the highest promise, died February IS, 1712, and was buried in the same grave with his wife, who had died only six days before him. His eldest child, the due de Bre- tagne, survived only about three weeks, and the due de Berri died May 4, 1714. The king of Spain having renounced his succession to the throne of France, all the hopes of the Bourbons now rested on the due d'Anjou, the sole surviving son of the due de Burgundy, a feeble infant, for whose life also great fears had been entertained. At the close of a life thus bowed down by calamity, Louis sought refuge in the hopes of religion. Amid all his vices, the principle of religioi;., or at least the fear of future punish- ment, seems always to have retained some hold of him. He had often been a prey to the visitations of remorse. He had devoutly observed the penances of his church, and though his persecution of the Hugonots shows tSat he could know but little of the true spirit of Christianity, yet let us still hope that age, disease, and affliction, may have opened his heart to a better lesson at the last than he had ever learned before. Jn August, 1715, hi? malady increased, and it appeared i40 LUOIS XIV. IVHA.T. XXXIT evident tliat death was approaching. On the 26th of tha* month, he ordered his infant successor to be brought into hi» apartment. He took him in his arms, and thus addressed him aloud, in the presence of all his attendants : " You will Boon be king of a great kingdom. What I most strongly recommend to you is, never to forget the obligations you are under to God. Remember that to him you owe all you pos ■ sess. Endeavor to preserve peace with your neighbors. 1 have been too fond of war. Do not you follow my example in that, nor in my too lavish expenditure. Take advice in all things, and endeavor to find out the best, that you may adhere invariably to it. Ease your people as soon as you can, and do that which I have had the misfortune of not being able to do." These words Louis XV. had inscribed afterward at the head of his bed. Louis XIV. died September 1, 1715, being within a few days of 77 years of age. He married Marie Therese of Austria, only daughter of Philip IV. of Spain, by his first marriage with the princess Elizabeth, daughter of Henry IV. of France. By her he had one son, Louis, the dauphin, who, in the history of the times, has commonly the title of Monseigneur. This prince (who died April 14, 1711) married Marie- Anne- Christine- Victorie, a princess of Bavaria, and by her had three sons : Louis, due de Burgundy, who married Marie Adelaide of Savoy, and was the father of Louis XV. Philip V. of Spain : and Charles, due de Berri, who died May 4, 1714. Louis XIV. had two sons and three daiaghters, who died young. Ho had also several mistresses, and many La'uraJ children. 0«»T.J LOUIS XIV. 441 CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XXXIV Louis XIV. (From Van der Meulen's Portrait). Richard. You said very truly, mamma, iu yoiu yester' day's conversation, that the old age of Louis XIV. was a melancholy period. Mary. But the worst was the death of all those poor princes and princesses. Mrs. Markham. The death of the elder, or as he was called, the grand dauphin, was no doubt a great affliction to the king his father ; but that of the duke of Burgundy, the younger dauphin, was a still greater. George. Was that first dauphin a bad sort of a man ? Mrs. M. He was one of those people who might be called neither bad nor good. He was very good-natured, but had a littleness of mind which kept him always occupied in petty affairs. At the same time he was often observed to be wholly indifferent to things which were of real importance. He overlooked his domestic expenditure very minutely, and knew exactly the price of every article of consumption, and would never give more for any thing than it was worth. George. That was a very fiddle-faddle sort of work for a dauphin of France. He should Imve left all that to his stewards and servants. Mrs. M. His great attention to these lesser matters ac- quired for him a character for niggardliness, which was in some respects undeserved, for he was extremely charitable to k*9 LOUIS XIV. [Chap. XXXIV the poor, and liberal to bis dependents. He bad another quality which, in a prince, is not a popular one : this was his incredible silence. (I use the very word of the French au- thor). This fault was accompanied, however, with its con- comitant virtues, discretion and secrecy, which, in a meddling and mischief-making court, like that of Louis XIV., made ample amends for it. Richard. Had his education been neglected ? Mrs. M. Very far from it : Louis had taken great painti to procure proper instructors for him. One of these instruct- ors was Bossuet, bishop of Meaux, whose introduction to universal history, which you, Richard, have read, was writ- ten for the dauphin's use. But he had not a capacity to gain much benefit from these advantages. He had so little taste for literature, that, after he became his own master, he nevei read any thing but the lists of the deaths and marriages in the Gazette de France. He had an awkward address, and, particularly when in his father's presence, was extremely timid and constrained. Louis, indeed, did not strive to re- move his shyness, but rather increased it by the coldness and reserve of his own manner ; and it has been observed of him that he was to his son "always a king, and seldom a father." George. Oh ! poor dauphin, that was not the way to im- prove his capacity. I think if papa were to treat me with coldness and reserve, I should soon lose all the little sense I have ; or at least I should cease to take any pleasure in im- proving it, which I suppose would be almost the same thing Mary. What sort of a woman was the dauphiness ? Mrs. M. She was not a woman who could in any way counteract the defects of her husband. Unhappily for her, she entered the most brilliant court in Europe without any of those prepossessing qualities which were necessary to ac- quire consideration in it. She was very plain, and was nei- ther graceful nor witty, and understood French very imper- fectly. The diversions of the ladies of the court appeared to her frivolous and uninteresting, and she withdrew herself as much as she could from their society. George. I think she showed herself to be a very sensible woman. Mrs. M. I am not so sure of that. She loved to shut her- self up in a Httle dull back-room, with one of her German women, with whom she could converse at ease in her native language. The king took great pains to lure her from her love of retirement, but in vain, and the dauphin sjon left liei CANV.J LOUIS XIV 44rf for moie cheerfu] society. She gradually sunk into a pro- found melancholy, and after a few years died, having, as the Prench ladies asserted, literally moped herself to death. Richard. Well, I think she would have been a more sensible woman if she had learned French, and tried to make herself agreeable. You know, mamma, you often tell us that the cultivation of cheerfulness is one of the moral duties. Mary. And now, mamma, will you tell us about the sec- ond dauphin, whose death was such a great grief to the old king ? Mrs. M. His death was a grief not only to the king, but also to the whole nation. He had a lively wit, and an acute and penetrating genius, and what was still more valuable, he possessed also a sound judgment and an inflexible integrity. George. How delightful is it to find a faultless character at last I Mis. M. The duke of Burgundy (that, as you recollect, was his title in his father's life-time) was not entirely fault- ess. He was by nature extremely passionate ; but this fault he at length subdued, and brought his temper under such good control, that after his boyish days its impetuosity rarely if ever broke forth. His mind had been early trained to every virtue by Fenelon, the great and good archbishop of 3ambray. Richard. Fenelon I I thought he had been the author of Telemachus. Mrs. M. So he was. That agreeable romance was writ ten for the instruction of his royal pupil. The duke was al- ways greatly attached to Fenelon, and when this venerable old man had fallen into disgrace with the king, persevered in showing him every attention in his power. Mary. What could such a good man have done to get into disgrace ? Richard. Whatever the reason was, he ought to have been forgiven, though it were only for the sake of that delight- ful book. Mrs. M. It was principally that delightful book which occasioned his disgrace. The king fancied there were some passages in it which alluded to the tyranny of his own gov- ernment. But to resume what I was saying of the duke of Burgundy. He was sincerely religious, and made the per- formance of his duty the main business of his life. In expec- tation of the throne which seemed to await him, he constantly studied to acquire a perfect knowledge of every thing that 141 LOUIS XIV. [Chap. XXXIV could contribute to make the country flourishing, and his peo pie happy. He was about thirty years old, when by his father's death he became dauphin. The king his grandfather, who knew how to appreciate his merit, admitted him to a much greater participation of state afiairs than had ever been allowed to his father, and treated him with a deference and a respect for his opinion, which astonished all those who had seen how tenacious Louis always was of his own authority and opinions. Although he had the disadvantage of a plain face and a very indifferent figure (he was awry and walked lame), yet his sensible countenance and noble deportment gave a dignity even to his person. The courtiers found that he was not to be deceived by any of their artifices, that he saw through their malice and despised their littleness. The ministers also (who, in spite of the king's jealousy of being governed, had long had every thing their own way) soon per- ceived that to his grandfather's close application to business he added a much sounder judgment and a clearer insight into affairs. Mary. Was his wife as excellent as himself? Mrs. M. She was one of the most amiable and engaging creatures that ever lived ; and she and the prince presented the example, an example which in a court is but too rare, of a perfectly happy and united couple. Mary. Did she shut herself up like the other dauphiness ? Mrs. M. Her chief pleasure was to promote the happiness of the king, who was now grown old, and was often melan- choly. She also attached herself to madame de Maintenon, and generally called her by the endearing name of " ma tante." She was only eleven years old when she came to France, and although so young, had from the very first an extraordinary tact m accommodating herself to the humor in which she saw the king, and could be grave or gay as the occasion required Sometimes she would perch herself on the arms of his chair, or plant herself at his knees, and caress or tease him by tur*>s, all which he would take in very good part. Mary. It must have been a droll sight to have seon thi^.t pompous old king playing at romps with that nieiry little princess. Mrs. M. This little princess knew how to be wise as well as merry. In all her lively saUies she preserved a discretion which kept them from being ever displeasing, and would in- stantly desist when the king began to be weary. In pubho sir* always took care to conduct herself toward him w'th 1h« doNV.] LOUIS XIV, 445 most marked respect. The king doled upon her, and in hia latter years her presence became essential to his comfort. She seldom engaged in the gay diversions of the court, but when she did, liOuis always expected her to come to his chamber before she retired to rest, and give him an account of all that had passed. Mary. I suppose that madame de Maintenon was a very good woman, since this charming princess was so fond of her. Mrs. M. Madame de Maintenon has two characters. By some persons she is esteemed a woman of the greatest merit, and by others an artful and narrow-minded bigot. All how- ever agree that she was a woman of great talents, and of most engaging manners. Most of her cotemporaries, and particularly madame de Sevigne, speak with great admiration of the charms of her conversation ; and indeed it was to hei conversational powers that she in great measure owed her elevation. Richard. Who was she originally ? Mrs. M. She was originally a Hugonot, and was grand daughter of Theodore d'Aubigne, half brother of Henry IV Her father died when she was very young, and it was re- marked of her mother that her manner to her daughter was £0 unnaturally rigid, that she never embraced her but twice in her life. She did not, however, remain long under her mother's care. A Catholic lady, to pay her court to Mary o\ Medicis, obtained an order to take her away from her rela- tions, for the purpose of bringing her up a Catholic, a species of violence wliich was not only allowed but even encouraged by the government, and which was one of the most cruel tyrannies to which the Hugonots were exposed in this and in the preceding reigns. But to proceed ; the lady who had thus taken charge of mademoiselle d'Aubigne soon became weary of her, and married her, when only fov *een, to the poet Scar- ron, a man of great wit, but not, I ueileve, of correct man- ners. She was so poor, that Scarron acknowledged in hia marriage contract, that all the dower which he received with nis wife consisted of " two large eyes, full cf malice, a fine shape, a pair of beautiful hands, a great deal of wit, and a rental of lour Louis." Scarron's death did not loave her much richer than she was at her marriage, excepting xudeed in the rriends whom the propriety of her conduct and ihe fascination e^ her maimers had gained her. She afterward obtained the cSiee of governess to the children of madame de Montespau t4B LOUIS XIV. [Chap. XXXI V the king's mistress. In this situation the king had frequent opportunities of seeing her, and although he had a prejudice against her at first, yet at last he became so much captivated by her agreeable conversation, and by the evenness of her placid temper, which formed a strong contrast to madame de Montespan's violent and variable humors, that not long after the queen's death he married her. George. It is a comfort to find now and then a king who marries to please himself Mrs. M. The marriage, however, was kept secret, or at least was not avowed. George. You said she had two characters. Which do you think she deserved, the good or the bad one ? Mrs. M. Whatever faults she might have, she can not be denied the merit of a singular modesty. She assumed no airs of greatness in consequence of her elevation. Her dress, which was elegant and becoming, was remarkable for its sim- plicity, and her manners preserved their natural frankness The only change that could be perceived in her was, that she withdrew more from general society, and confined herself al- most entirely to the company of the king, and to that of a few ladies who perhaps were in her secret. Mai'y. I suppose she thought herself very happy to be the king's vnfe. Mrs. M. Alas ! ambition is of all passions the one of which the gratification is the least conducive to happiness. No one experienced this more fully than madame de Mainte- non, who appears to have been a much happier woman as the wife of the poor old poet Scarron, than she was as the wife of the grand monarqiie. She resigned the ease and liberty of a private condition, and as her marriage was concealed, she had none of the gratifications, such as they are, of being a queen. Her life ever after was dull and monotonous, and she might be considered as a sort of state prisoner at large. In a letter to one of her friends she thus feelingly expresses herself: " Why can I not give you all my experience ? Why can I not make you see the ennui which devours the great, and the labor it is to them to get rid of their time ? See you not that I die of sadness in a fortune beyond what I could ever imagine, and that nothing but the assistance of God prevents my sinking under it?" In another letter she com- plains of " the torment of having to amuse an unamusable king." George. I am sure ^hat on such terms I should nevei OoNV.] LOUIS XIV. 447 wash to be great. But, mamma, how came tlie court of Louis XIV. to be so dull ? I always thought it was the gayest in the world. Mrs. M. So it was m the former part of his reign, and especially when he was under the influence of madame de Montespan, who loved pomp, and show, and diversions. But in his latter years all was changed. Mary. That was because the king was grown old and grave, I suppose. Mrs. M. The same etiquettes and forms remained, but the spirit was gone, which before had enhvened them. To quote from an ingenious modern writer : " The pomp and ceremonies of the court were like wedding-dresses upon dead corpses : all was weariness, disgust, and misery." Richard. When Louis saw how tiresome all these eti- quettes and ceremonies were become, I wonder he did not leave them off. Mrs. M. Habit, you know, is second nature ; and Louis was become so much habituated to the pompish trammels which he had imposed upon himself that he would not have been comfortable without them. I think I have before told you that he was methodical to the greatest degree. In his lat- ter years the regularity of his life met with few interruptions. Every morning at eight o'clock his valet called him, and his old nurse, who hved to a great age, entered his apartment, accompanied by his first physician and surgeon. The two fatter examined into the state of his health. The grand chamberlain, and a tribe of courtiers by whom the privilege of attending at the levee was eagerly sought, were next ad- mitted ; and the king proceeded to dress himself, which, as the Frenchman says who has given us this detail, " he did with grace and address." We are next told (for our author is very minute) that the king used no dressing-table, but that one of the persons in waiting held the looking-glass for him. Another of the peculiarities of his toilet was, that he always put on his wig before he left his bed. Mary. Was that for fear of getting cold ? Mrs. M. The reason was that he thought it undignified to be seen bare-headed. His wig was always handed to him, before his curtains were undrawn, at the end of a long cane. We need not, however, go through the whole routine of the levee. When it was at last happily over, the king common- ly occupied himself till dinner-time in transacting business with his i^'iiuist ^rs. He din/id in public, and the privilege of 148 LOUIS XIV tCHAP. XXXIV Beemg him eat his dinner was a highly-courted honor. The Deing gazed at by a staring crowd did not at all spoil his ap- petite. The duchess of Orleans says that she has often seen him eat four plates of soup, a whole pheasant, and two good slices of ham, besides mutton, salad, and garlic, with pastry, fruit, and sweetmeats into the bargain. Mary. Don't you think he must have been rathei greedy ? ikfrs M. Perhaps the duchess might exaggerate. Louis was considered a very temperate man. He generally spent the evening in madame de Maintenon's apartment, where he would often transact business with one of his ministers, while madame de Maintenon sat by working or reading, and seldom appearing to take any part in what was going on. The king would now and then ask her opinion. She would then make some remark, but always in very guarded terms. George. I don't wonder the poor thing wrote such mel- ancholy letters. It was a very dull way of spending her evenings. Mr$. M. When she retired to bed, which she always did early, the king passed the remainder of the evening with his children and grandchildren. At twelve o'clock commenced the ceremonies of going to bed, which were nearly as formal and tedious as those of the rising. Thus was the king in public from morning till night — a manner of life which to us, who are not accustomed to it, would be irksome in the ex- treme, and which some one has compared to that of an actor who should be never off the stage. Richard. His time, however, was not all spent in tiresome ceremonies, for he seems to have passed a great deal of it in transacting business. Mrs. M. And even his application to business degenerat- ed in his old age into a minute and meddling attention to the most trivial matters, to the great neglect of more important affairs — a neglect which the ministers well knew how to take advantage of for their own purposes. Mary. Pray, mamma, did the king wear a wig because he was bald, or because it was the fashion ? Mrs. M. The wearing wigs was universal at the close of this reign, though the custom had its origin only in the be- ginning of it. Louis, when a little boy, had remarkably beautiful hair, which hung in curls on his shoulders. The courtiers, always ready to copy their masters, had wigs made in imitation of his natural locks. When the king became a CoNV j LOUIS XIV 443 man, he, too, wore a wig. Wig? were, by degrees, ma.de larger and larger, and were more and more curled and friz- zled, till at last they became enormous bushes. Gewge. What ridiculous figures the men must have looked ! Mrs. M. The rest of the dress was no less ridiculous. The fine gentlemen of this time were tricked out in a profu- sion of frippery, and must have looked like so many great dolls. A foreigner, who visited Paris in the early part of the reign of Louis XIV., expresses great surprise at the dress of the Parisians. Mar]/. Pray what does he say about it ? Mrs. M. He says that " they dressed very studiously ; and that lace, ribbons, and looking-glasses (which said looking- glasses the ladies used to carry in their hands) were three things which the French could not do without ; and that they were very changeable in their fashions." He also tells us that the gentlemen's wigs were so finely curled, that for fear of squeezing them they were accustomed to carry their hats in their hands, instead of wearing them on their heads. This foreigner notices, among other things, the overstrained civility, which, in imitation of the court manners, was prac- ticed at this time by all orders of people in France, to a ridic- ulous and burlesque excess. He adds that there were even masters who gave instructions in the art of politeness. George. For my part, I had rather have honest rudeness than sham politeness taught by a civility-master Mrs. M. What is most to be desired is that honest civil- ity which is taught by a kind and feeling heart. I suspect that the politeness which was cultivated in the court of Louis was commonly of that hollow and unmeaning sort which con- sists chiefly, or rather entirely, in fine words. I will give you one or two instances which the due de St. Simon relates in his Memoirs. The cardinal d'Estrees, though advanc"4 in years, had preserved his teeth, which, having a wide mo -ih, he showed extremely. Being one day at the king's dinner. Louis addressed himself to him, and complained of the in convenience of having lost his teeth. The cardinal replied with, a smile, which displayed his own fine teeth to advant age, " Ah, sire, who is there that has any ?" The king was one day walking at Marly with the cardinal de Polignac, and was himself showing him the gardens, which, of course waa a great honor. It began to rain a little, and the king express insr sotno concern at seeing the cardinal exposed to this rais t5J LOUIS XiV. [Chap. XXX IV fortune, the caidinal exclaimec^*, "Ah, sire, the rain of Marly does not wet." Mary. In England, mamma, we should not call that a civil speech, so much as a downright fib. Mrs. M. Then what will you think of the following ? On the death of Corneille, the great French dramatist, there waa a vacancy in the French academy, a society of men of let- ters. The vacant seat was offered to the duke of Maine, and the offer was accompanied by the following message : " That even if the number of members were full, there was not one of them who would not willingly die to make room for him." Mary. Have you nothing more to tell us, mamma, about Louis XIV. ? Mrs. M. I may tell you that the French passion for writ ing memoirs extended even to him. There are six volumes of memoirs, of which Louis dictated the substance to Pelisson, his historiographer, who put them in proper form, and gar- nished them with suitable reflections. The whole was after- ward revised by the king, and the manuscript contains some corrections in his own hand-writing. Ricliard. Pray, mamma, v/hat was that book I saw you reading this morning with so much earnestness ? Mrs. M. It was the life of Dkmel Huet, bishop of Avranches. Richard. Was he particularly famous for any thing ? Mrs. M. He was famous for having devoted his whole afe, from childhood to extreme old age, exclusively to study ; and for having been one of the principal promoters of a cel- ebrated edition of the Latin Classics, which, because it was made for the use of the dauphin, has been called the Delphin edition. • George. Is his life entertaining ? Mrs. M. The most amusing part is that in which he de- scribes the early difficulties which he had to contend with in " the pursuit of knowledge. He was an orphan, and waa brought up by an aunt, who educated him with her own sons. His young cousins were, it seems, poor Huet's torments. He tells us that their only pleasures were in hunting, running, jumping, and playing ; that they hated study, and could not bear to see him engaged with his books. " They did cv.-iy thing," says he, " in their power to interrupt me in my stud- ies : my books were stolen ; my paper torn or spoiled ; my chamber-door was barred, that while they were at play I might not be lurb'ng in my room with a book, as I was fre* CoNV.J LOLIS XIV, 451 quenlly detected in doing." But this was not all. He adda, " In order to indulge my taste, it was my custom to rise with the sun, while they were buried in sleep, and either hide my- self in the wood, or seek some thick shade, which might con- ceal me from their sight, while I was reading and studying m quiet. It was, however, their practice to hunt for mo among the bushes, and by throwing stones or wet sods, or squirting water through the branches, to drive me from my hiding-place." Mary. How glad he must have been when he was grown up, and could read as much as he pleased without the foar of being pelted. Mis. M. But even then he found other interruptions not less annoying, for he could not succeed in always shutting himself up from the cares and business of life. Richard. How did he get on when he became a bishop ? Mrs. M. I fear, very ill indeed. Persons who came to him on business were generally told that " the bishop was at his books, and could not be interrupted." This made one of them exclaim, " Why did not the king send us a bishop who has finished his studies ?" At last, Huet finding, as he said, " the episcopal duties beyond the power of man to sustain," very wisely resigned them, and retired to the Jesuits' college at Paris, where he indulged himself in an tminterrupted de- votedness to books, till the ninety-first year of his age, when he died, leaving behind him the reputation of very great learn* iajf ; and, I bcheve, oi very weak judgment. CHAPTER XXXV LOUIS XV. (part I.) 'Years aAer Christ, 1715—1748 The Grand Dauphin and Ninon de L'Khci.oi. The crown having now, by the death of Louis XIV,, d*« solved on his great grandson, a child of only five years of age, the important question of a regency immediately occupied the public attention. The person whose rank, and whose connection with the royal family, gave him the strongest claim to be appointed regent, was Philip, duke of Orleans, who was nephew of the late king, and had married one of his natural daughters. In consequence of the renunciation which had been made by the king of Spain, the duke of Orleans was also the heir-apparent to the crown. But the character of this prince made him justly distrusted. Careless of all appearances, impious, and profligate, it was thought that no scruples would restrain him from paving a way for himself by any crime to the sover- eignty. He had been publicly accused, and probably with justice, of having intrigued to place himself on the throne of Spain, even at a time when he commanded a French army in that eoimtry, in aid of Philip V. He had been generally A.D 1715.] LOUIS XV. 453 raspected of having given poison to his wife, and of having actually destroyed, by means of poison also, all the three daupliins, and also the duchess of Burgundy. This horrid suspicion M^as indeed so strong and so general, that in the formal procession which conveyed at the same time through Paris the sad remains of the duke and duchess of Burgundy, and of the infant duke of Bretagne, people cried out as it passed by the Palais Royal, which was the duke of Orleans' residence, " See here our good dauphin and dauphiness and their son. Come then and look at them, detestable poisoner !" Modern writers are, I believe, generally persuaded that these imputations on the duke were wholly unjust. His very character, which was the only pretense for suspecting him, is of itself inconsistent with any such charge. Irreligious, no doubt, he was, and profligate in the greatest degree, and con- sequently without those best and only strong securities which Berve to protect men — men in high stations, particularly — from the commission of even the most enormous crimes. But though he was unprincipled, he was yet easy tempered ; and though he might not have been deterred by the guilt, yet he would in all probability have shrunk from the cruelty of acts of blood, such as those imputed to him. An extreme distrust of him, however, prevailed throughout France, and if Louis XIV. had died two or three years sooner, when the public in dignation against him was at its height, he probably would not have obtained the regency. But the last two or three years had done much in his favor; by directing to another quarter the tide of popular jealousy. The due de Maine and his brother, the count of Toulouse, who were natural children of the late king, and had previ- ously been elevated to a superiority in rank above the dukes 'V' peers of France., were, in 1714, declared to be the next Bnax., ^i^g crown after the princes of the royal blood, an^ ^^ V ^^^^ privileges of the blood royal conferred on them. and his quLy^gg, ^^^^ which turned out to be well founded, thai J ^°°" ^^P-ad made a will, conferring the regency on the due (ie "iJi^Ae, who was a very weak man, and possessea no popular qualities. Hence the duke of Orleans began to be re- garded with favor. This favor he very skillfully increased by every method which it was in his power to use, and after a short struggle with the due de Maine, he triumphantly estab- lished himself in the regency. After the settlement of this contested affair, the first thing which fiiems to require our notice is the remarkable event of 454 LOUIS XV LChip. XXX^. a war breaking out with Spain, notwithstanding ail the efforts whicli had heen used to connect the two countries, and the hard success with which those efibrts had heen crowned. Cardinal Alberoni, the Spanish minister, a man of great abil- ities, hut of much too grasping designs, and who miscalculated exceedingly his means of bringing them into effect, was a de- clared enemy of the regent. This crafty pohtician persuaded his master, Philip V., that in case of the death of the young king of France, the hearts of all Frenchmen would be fixed on him as the grandson of their adored Louis XIV., and that he would easUy be able to renew his claim to that crown, of which he was, in blood, the next inheritor. These tempting views Alberoni pressed on Philip with the utmost vehemence and pertinacity. He excited ui France itself conspiracies and insurrections against the regent, and sent a Spanish fleet to the coast of Bretagne, where the insurgents had rashly ven tured to take arms. But the regent's forces soon put down the revolt, and the Spanish fleet was obliged to retire without being able to effect any thing. The regent himself, who seems to have been rarely betrayed by any vice or impetuosity of mere temper into violent or im- politic measures, would have been very glad to have remained at peace with Spain. The conduct of Alberoni, however, pro- duced a short war, which soon terminated to the entire ad- vantage of France. Alberoni was disgraced, and retired to Italy. Spam acceded to what was called the quadruple alli- ance which had previously been formed between France, England, Holland, and Austria. Phihp again renounced, for himself and his descendants, all pretensions whatever to the succession in France ; and with the exception of certain brief discontents, which nearly produced a breach in the year 1725, the court of Madrid, under its Bourbon monarch, beca,!^-* from this time till the wars of the French revolution- '^^e else than a dependency on France. '^^- ^^ About the time of the conclusion of the peacf-^^_^'i® ^Y ^^ a bubble, called the Mississippi scheme, burst in i'heir-apparen^ was exceedingly similar to the South Sea scherifc*^ ^_^"|,iand. The projector, a Scotsman of the name of Law, was counte- nanced even by the regent himself; and the financial delu- sions which he imposed on the pubhc were carried to a greater and more injurious extent than the simdar delusions which were practiced in England. The only other event of the regency to which I shall think 't necessary here to call your attention is the plague at Map A..D 1720.] LODIS XV. 4£.'i seilies, which you may perhaps have sometimes heard spoken of. This plague is memorable, not only for its wide-wasting destruction, hut also for the exalted virtue or heroism of " Marseilles' good bishop," as he is called by Pope, who ex erted himself night and day, to succor the dying, to cheer the despairing, and to animate the courage of those few who par- took with him those glorious employments. Full half of the inhabitants are said to have perished in this severe calamity, which continued from the month of May, 1720, until the end of June, 1721. You will be glad to hear that the good bishop, whose name was Belzunce, survived the fatigues and dangers of this terrible period. He died in 1755, at the great age of eighty-four. Marseilles was endeared to him, as hs, doubtless, was greatly endeared to the inhabitants, by the calamity he had there witnessed and survived. He lived there till his death, having refused a better bishopric which was offered him in the year 1723. On the 2d of December, 1723, the duke of Orleans, who could not be persuaded, even by the enfeebled state of his health, to alter his intemperate method of living, died, the victim of his own excesses, at the age of forty-nine. The due de Bourbon, a great grandson of the great Conde now became first minister to the young king, who having at i;ained his majority, which was fixed at the age of thirteen, was nominally in possession of the sovereign power, though as yet too much a child to be able to act for himself. The duke's first object was to choose for him a queen, by contribut ing to whose elevation to the throne he might hope to strength- en his own influence. His choice fell eventually on Marie Leczinski, daughter of Stanislaus ex-king of Poland, who had taken refuge in the French territories, and was now residing at Weissemburg in Alsace, where his wife and daughter shared his retirement with him. The marriage was cele- brated on the 4th of September, 1725; and at first Louis and his queen seemed to be much attached to each other. But he soon began to treat her with great unkindness. In June, 1726, the due de Bourbon was dismissed. Car- dinal de Fleury succeeded him as chief minister. Fleury's administration lasted upward of sixteen years. He possessed great influence over the mind of the king, and was a man of the most pacific character. His love of peace, the integrity of his dealings, and his strict economy of the finances, were' productive of the most beneficial efTects : but his genius wa better calculated to direct the helm in a caln., than to guide <6S LOUIS XV. Lt^HAP. XXXV. It in a stormy sea, and he ought to have resigned when ho could maintain peace no longer. In 1733, a war was excited by the restless spirit of many "wdio could not bear quiet, and were anxious for some opportunities of advancement. Fleu- ry's dislike to a war, which he could not approve, prevented him from engaging in it with vigor, and it became through- out a scei:e of disgrace and reverses. The immediate occasion which gave birth to this "vvar was a contest which took place for the crown of Poland. Augus- tus II., the successful rival of Stanislaus, died on the 1st of -February, 1733. Austria and Prussia declared for his son, but France, influenced, perhaps, in addition to other motives, by some romantic desire of restoring to the queen's father the crown he had lost, declared itself for the cause of Stanislaus. In Poland Stanislaus was a very popular person. He was elected and proclaimed king in the month of September ; but was compelled by a Russian army to shut himself up in the town of Dantzic, where it was his intention to wait for suc- cor from France. That succor, however, when it arrived, was found to consist of only 1500 men, and of course could not do much to withstand the enemy. Stanislaus escaped, and took refuge in Prussia, and Dantzic surrendered almost immediately afterward. The late king's son, Augustus III., was then elected king of Poland in his place. The real strength of France was in the mean time direct- ing itself, not toward Poland, but to the Rhine, and to Italy. The Austrian general on the Rhine was prince Eugene. The French, under the duke of Berwick, gained some advantages over him, and took the fort of Kehl in December, 1733, and the town of Pliilipsburg on the 18th of July, 1734. The military operations in Italy of the year 1734, under the com- mand of marshal Villars, who united his forces with those of the king of Sardinia, were also successful ; but the king of Sardinia was an insincere ally, who wished indeed to see the power of the Austrians broken, but had no desire to see that of France established. Comparatively little, therefore, was effected in this quarter. Don Carlos, however, son of PhiHp y. by his second wife Elizabeth Farnese, invaded Naples with a Spanish army, and overran and conquered it with but little opposition. This Don Carlos, afterward Charles III. king of Spain, was the father of Ferdinand VI., who succeeded to the crown of Naples in 1759, and who lived till 1S24. This was by much the most considerable event of the war, which was concluded by a treaty, of which A.O. 1735.J LOUIS XV ' «a? the preliminaries were signed in the month of October, 1735. By this treaty the duke of Lorraine, who had taken no part in the war, was appointed successor to the reigning grand duke of Tuscany, Jean Gaston, the last of the Medici, who died July 9, 1737. The duchy of Lorraine, and that of Bar, which was annexed to it, were given to Stanislaus, who retained the title of king, but renounced all claim to the kingdom which he had lost. It was provided that these duchies should after his death be united to France, as a sort of marriage portion with his daughter Marie Leczinski. Thus, from an unprotected exile, whose father had sought in France nothing but an asylum from misfortune, this princess became heiress of the most valuable accession, which, with the exception of Bretagne and Guienne, any queen had ever brought to the crown. Naples and Sicily were ceded to Don Carlos, France surrendered all her conquests on the Bhine, and became a party to what was called the Pragmatic Sanc- tion, by which Maria Theresa, daughter of the emperor Charles VI., who married in 1736 Francis duke of Lorraine, was recognized as her father's successor, both in his hereditary dominions, and also in the imperial crown. The emperor's anxiety to have his daughter's succession thus recognized by a solemn compact with France was the reason why he consent- ed that France should acquire Lorraine. But we shall soon see how little dependence is to be placed on treaties, when it is supposed that the violation of them vidU produce any ad- vantage. The emperor Charles VI. died at the age of fifty-five, on the 20th of October, 1740. Maria Theresa, his daughter, succeeded him : but both the elector of Bavaria, and Augus- tus III. king of Poland, set up claims to her rich inheritance Other powers also made pretensions of their own. Of these, the king of Prussia, the celebrated warrior Frederic II., who had succeeded to his crown on the 31st of May, in the same year, was the first to show himself in the field. He made a claim on Silesia, entered that country with an army in the month of December, two months after the emperor's death, and in a very short time made himself master of it. The elector of Bavaria applied to France for assistance, and obtained it, though cardinal de Fleury did all he could lo prevent so shameful a breach of the solemn engagement which had been entered into with the late emperor. The uuited French and Bavarian army marched into Austria 17 «6S LUUIS XV. [Cha •. XXXV almost without opposition, penetrated into Bohemia, and took Prague. The elector of Bavaria was raised to the titla cpen^ v/Kich iVt 4f,^ LOUIS XV. [Chap. XXXV ■had founded near Versailles for the education of young ladies of good family but of small fortune. She there passed the remainder of her life in religious seclusion. Madame de Maintenon possessed the rare merit of being devoid of mercen- ary feelings. In the plenitude of her power she had never thought of reserving any provision for herself ; and by somo unaccountable neglect on the part of the king, she was at his death left totally unprovided for. The regent, however, who did not want for generous feelings, settled a pension on her, Baying that "her disinterestedness had made it necessary." RiduiTd. Will you be so kind, mamma, as to tell us some of the particulars of that dreadful plague at Marseilles. Mrs. M. This great calamity is said to have been brought on that city in a way in which calamities very frequently come, namely, by carelessness. The captain of a merchant vesseJ which arrived there from Syria, presuming that he had no in fected goods on board, neglected to observe the usual precau- tions. Soon after his merchandise was landed, the plague appeared in the city, and spread with frightful rapidity. The streets were filled with the unburied dead, whose putrid bodies added to the contagion. The terrified Marseillois sought to escape from the city, but the parliament of Aix had planted around it a cordon of troops, which prevented the possibility of flight. Some, however, of the wealthier and more prudent inhabitants had left the city at the first alarm. Those who .remained were in the most dreadful condition, and all their 'energy seemed lost in despair. Four men alone possessed suffi- cient courage and fortitude to undertake any thing for the general safety. Mary. That good bishop, I suppose, was one of them. Mrs. M. He was. His office was to attend the sick in the hospitals In this Christian office he was assisted by an order of nuns,* who, instead of immuring themselves in con- vents, devoted their lives to nursing the sick. George. What good, useful creatures ! But pray, mam- ma, who were those other three courageous men ? Mrs. M. They were Estelle and Moustier, the sheriffs ol the town, and the chevalier Rose. Their first care was to remove the bodies of the dead from the streets. They caused a deep ditch to be dug outside the walls, and obliged the galley-slaves to convey the bodies there in carts. These poor wretches all fell victims to this dreadful occupation. Theii officers had some scruple in permitting them to be devoted ta * Called Les JiUes pieuses. OoNV.J LOUIS XV Ivw, this service of death ; hut the necessities of the «;ase prevdil- ed. The plague commenced in the month of May, and con- tinued its ravages during the whole of the summer. Tha hospitals were quite unequal to contain the numbers of those who were daily imploring admittance. A large hospital was erected outside of the walls ; but w^hen it was nearly com- pleted, it was destroyed by a violent storm from the north. Gecn-ge. What an unfortunate storm ! Wrs. M. And yet the great misfortune, as the citizens at first considered it, was, in fact, a providential mercy. The north wind had the effect of cleansing and purifying the air, and of abating the violence of the contagion. The disease did not, however, totally cease till the following summer. The people of this unhappy city, in addition to the plague, had to contend also with famine ; but the pope sent them vessels laden with corn to be distributed among the poor. George. Well, mamma, that was right ; and as you tell us of so many bad things, it is but fair you should tell us as many good tilings as you can. Richard. Pray is the prince Eugene of whom you spoke in the last chapter the same person who is mentioned in your histoiy of England, and who had the dispute with the duke of Marlborough ? Mrs. M. The same. His father was count de Soissons, a prince of the house of Savoy. His mother was niece to car dinal Mazarin. Prince Eugene received his early education in France ; but when he was about eleven or twelve years old, his mother, who was a very busy, meddling woman, was banished the kingdom, and her son with her. Eugene's lofty spirit, although he w^as so young, highly resented this indig- nity, and he declared, " that he would one day enter France in spite of the king." He afterward went into the service of the emperor, and became, as you know, one of the greatest generals of his time. He was upright and religious, a'ld had no weakness that I know of, unless, indeed, we may reckon as a weakness the personal pique which he entertained against Louis XIV., and which he delighted to show even on trivial occasions. Richard. The speaking of Louis XIV. reminds rae of something I wanted to ask you about. Is there not ui his reign some curious story of a man in an iron mask ? Mrs. M. A very curious story it is, and one which haa given rise to innumerable conjectures. A prisoner, apparent* ly of distinction, was confin} d for miny years in the Bastiiel rs were become converts t«r t»a LOUIS XVI. [Chap. XXX VIX popular principles. The king, at length, without deciding the question whether the States should dehberate, or not, in separate chambers, conceded the double representation of the commons. The States opened at Versailles on the 7th of May, 1789 The deputies of the clergy were in number 291, of whom 205 were cures : those of the nobles, 270 : those of the third estate, 584. Nothing could be more august than the first opening of this assembly. The king delivered a short speech from the throne, in which he congratulated himself on thua meeting his people, and expressed a hope that this epoch . might become forever memorable from the happiness and prosperity which would succeed it. To judge from the mere spectacle which was here exhibited, the fondest hopes might be cherished that a bright day of happiness was now dawning on France. The king desired most truly his people's welfare. Was it possible that the representatives of the people them- selves could fail to point out to him the best way of attain' ing it ? Alas I all persons who indulged this pleasurable anticipation were destined to experience the bitterest disappointment. The king and his ministers were men wholly incompetent to guide the debates of such a body as they had assembled. All real strength was in the popular party Of the first lead' ers of this party many were men of good intentions, bnt they almost all of them wanted practical wisdom ; and it soon appeared evident that it was unprepared and unequal to pur- sue steadily, and to useful purpose, any consistent object or principle. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XXXVIl RicJiard. Alas! poor Louis! how sorry I am for him. vVhat a pity it was that he had not some wise and good coun- sellor to tell him what to do for the best. Mrs. Markham. He would have been incapable, I fear, of benefiting even by the best advice. His excessive timidity (the effect of his too confined education) occasioned in him a want of confidence both in himself and others, and put it out of his power to act with candor or firmness. The misfor- tunes of his hfe may be chiefly attributed to this weakness. In all other respects he was an excellent man, and he was th* inlv kins: of France, since Henry IV., who had shown anv C.NV.] LOUIS XVI. 491 regard for the real liiippiness of his people. But the parallei can. go no farther. Louis, though superior to Heniy in tha purity of his private life, was his inferior in all popular quali- ities. Shy and awkward in his manner and air, he could not, like Henry, captivate tne multitude by the grace and dignity of his demeanor, nor. by his ready address : nor could he over- awe them by his promptness and decision. He was clumsy in his person, inelegant in his gait, careless and untidy in his dress, and though his features were good, his countenance was heavy and unpleasing. He did not look- like a king ; and the French, who of all the people in the civilized world are the most governed by the eye, soon lost their respect for him. His good quahties were thrown away upon them. His benevo- lence and kindness of heart they attributed to weakness, and his lenity to cowardice. George. It should seem, then, that the French would rather have a fine gentleman than a good man for their king. Mrs. M. There were some few who could appreciate his real worth. The marquis de Bouille says of him in his Me- moirs, " In the midst of the most corrupt court, Louis XVI. led an uncorrupt life. In the midst of irreligion and atheism, he preserved a pure and enlightened devotion, and was per- sonally economical amidst the most unbridled luxury." Mary. I really think the French were unreasonable not to be contented with such a king as that. Mrs. M. The French had long been used to the blaze and flutter of a gaudy court, and could not reconcile themselves to a monarch who preferred the simple habits and amusements of private life. The queen also greatly shocked them by the contempt with which she treated those unmeaning ceremoni- als which had been introduced by Louis XIV., and which like his ghost, still haunted the court. George. 1 do not wonder at her. I am quite certain that if I had been in her place I should have done the same. Mrs. M. It was very natural that a young and lively princess should find the court formalities extremely irksome. Still she was very unwise to show her dislike to them. She was the first queen of France who admitted gentlemen into Iier court parties : but her greatest happiness was to abandon the court altogether, and to retire with a chosen circle of feiends to her little farm at Trianon ; M'here, dismissing tha queen, she would assume the farmer's wife, and, attired in a simple dress of white muslin, would employ herself in hei j'airy and garden Eve ry thing here was supposed to be 'O LOUIS XVI, LOiiAP. XXXVll imitation of an English farm, but it was more so in appeat- anue than reahty. The thatched building which looked on the outside hke a bai n, proved on entering it to be a u elegant ball-room, and every thing else was in the same taste. Richard. To my way of thinking, this English farm must have been a mighty silly sort of a pastime. Geai-ge. For my part, I am always glad when poor kings and queens can find any nice, comfortable amusements. Mrs. M. The French thought of Trianon very much as you do, Richard ; but there was nothing which so much low- ered the queen in their eyes, as her evening walks on the terraces of Versailles. These terraces were used as a public TssK^czi; or VERSAivLia. promenade. They were open to every respectably dressed person who chose to walk there, and in the summer evenings were in general thronged with people. The queen dehghted to mingle in the crowd, and because she wore a mask, would fancy herself unknown. But her gxace and dignity betrayed her through her disguise, and she was often exposed to imper- tinences from persons who would not, except for her incognito, have presumed to address her. Nor was this the worst. These garden adventures gave opportunities to her enemies of cruelly, and I believe most undeservedly, aspersing her character. But although she was fully aware of this, and was often importuned by her real friends to forego these even ing walks, she could not be prevailed on to do so, persisting ihat there could be no harm in them since her intentions wms CONV. 1 LOUIS XVI. 49! innocent. She forgot that every station has not only its owr, pecuhar duties, but also its own amusements, and that -what was proper enough for a private gentlewoman might he im- proper or impolitic in a queen of France. Unhappily, almost all her amusements were of a sort that compromised her dig- nity. Private theatricals were at that time a universal passion in France, and to be able to act was an accomplishment nc less essential to a lady of any pretensions than to be able to dance. The queen caught the general mania : she had a private theater, and though a very indifferent performer, would frequently exhibit herself on the stage. It is some excuse, however, for her folhes, that she was only fifteen when she married. She was very beautiful, thoughtless to a degree of childishness, and willful to an excess of obstinacy. Her edu- cation had been exceedingly neglected, and her mind was totally uninformed. She had been taught some few accom- plishments, but excelled in none. Conscious of her own ignorance, she disliked knowledge in other women, and it is said that sense and information were always a bar against her favor. It is certain that the two ladies who enjoyed her ex- clusive friendship were both of them, though amiable, sweet tempered, and of irreproachable characters, women of verj inferior capacities. Mary. Pray, who were these ladies ? WIrs. M. The princesse de Lamballe, and the duchesse do Poliffnac. Marie Antoinette lived to lament her own defi- Ri'iNS OF Marie Aktoinktitl's TArM ».t Tv/n^^* 494 LOUIS XVI. [Chai-. XXXVU ciencies, and to observe, "What a resource in the casualties of life is a well informed mind I" Her own defects of char- acter were sufficiently apparent to all the world, and soon deprived her of the respect of the public. Her amiable qual- ities were seen by those only who knew her intimately. Her Tianners were singularly engaging and fascinating to those she iked, and with whom she could feel at her ease. She wa« warm in her friendships, and was benevolent and tender- hearted almost to an excess ; but her feelings were under no regulation, and she attempted neither to control nor disguise them. Her resentments were also as warmly expressed as her friendships, an unreserve which occasioned her many personal enemies. Richao'd. Did the king follow the same sort of life with the queen ? Mrs. M. Out of complaisance to her, he partook some- times in her amusements, " but in general," says M. Lacre- telle, "he lived in the midst of his court like an indulgent father who tolerates the diversions of his young family." His own favorite employments were of a more serious nature. He apphed himself, sedulously to all the details of business. He was a great reader, and had an extraordinary knowledge of geography. He was also a good mechanic, and had no greater ' pleasure than to shut himself up in a room he called his work- shop, and amuse himself with a common workman of the name of Gamin, in making locks and keys. Mary. And how did the king's two brothers employ them- selves ? Mrs. M. I do not know that Monsieur joined in the king'a amusements, but he very much resembled him in character and appearance. He was grave and studious, waS fond of lit erature, and even occupied himself in writing, under a feigned name, for the periodical papers of the day. When a boy he had the reputation of being the cleverest of his family. There is a story that when he and his brothers were children, a dep- utation was sent from the country with an address to them on some public occasion. The orator addressed the dauphin as being the eldest, and began with a flaming compliment on his talents and progress in learning. On this, Louis inter* rupted the spokesman, and pointing to the comte de Provence (as Monsieur was then called,) said, " Sir, you must mean my brother, the comte de Provence ; he is the clever boy." George. I am sure Louis was an honest boy, whether 1m was clever or not Con v.] LOUIS XVI. 43* Mrs. M. -A:id the same might he said of him when a man Whether clever or not, he was very honest. The comte d'Artois (afterward Charles X.) was very unlike his brothers. He was handsome, gay, and lively : he loved frivolous diver- sions much more than serious employments, and partook in all the queen's amusements, and encouraged her in her love of dissipation. Mary. The Revolution in France is very difficult to un derstand. I don't quite comprehend what was the first be- ginning of it. Mrs. M. I have already endeavored to explain- to you that the disorders in the finance had paralyzed the powers of government ; an evil which the inefficient measures of the king and his bewildered ministers in vain essayed to remedy. The higher ranks of the nobility, excepting those who were of what was called the queen's party, were much estranged from the court, chiefly in consequence of the unpopular habits of the king and queen. The provincial nobles, who were by far the most numerous, were, with few exceptions, miserably poor and uneducated. Shut up vidthin the pale of their rank, they were excluded from the law, from commerce, and from many of those roads to wealth which were open to plebeians Their titles and their exemptions from taXi*tion were their only distinctions. These distinctions, however, made them look down with contempt on their unprivileged though richer neighbors, by whom they were in their turn despised for their poverty and pride. In addition to all these evils, the false philosophy of the times had weakened the influence of reli- gious principle throughout France. Thus the cords were loosened which bind society together, and very slight impulses were sufficient to burst them asmider. The court party as- cribe the first popular distm-bances chiefly to the machinations of the duke of Orleans, who at any rate encouraged and heartily joined in them. Ridiard. I should have thought that, as a prince of the blood, he ought to have supported the royal cause, instead of turning against it. Mrs. M. The duke of Orleans was both a wrong-headed and an unprincipled man. He was great grandson of thc> regent, and inherited some of his ancestor's talents, most of Lis vices, and very few, if any, of his captivating qualities. He hated the queen, because she had been too frank and un- guarded to conceal her disapprobation of his conduct, and gratified his malice by attacking ler character in every possi- 196 LOUIS XVI [Chap- XXXVIJ ble way. Most of the abusive pamphlets, which, in the be- ginning of the Revolution, were circulated against the queen, could be traced to his palace, and the celebrated madame Genlis, who was then governess to his children, is much be- lied if she is not the author of some of them. Not contented with thus vilifying the queen, he is said to have aimed also at dethroning the king, in the hope to obtain, if not the throne itself, at least the nomination of lieutenant-general of the kingdom. But his desires surpassed his means of accomplish- ment. He had no character, and no power of any kind, ex cept what his immense wealth and his undaunted wickedness gave him. And while he deceived himself with the idea that in compassing the ruin of the royal family he was at once gratifying his revenge and his ambition, he was in fact pre- paring his own destruction. Ricliard. It must have been something very striking to have watched the coming on of the Revolution, I mean merely as a spectator, without having any thing to do with it. Mrs. M. The late Mr. Arthur Young enjoyed, if indeed it could be called enjoyment, that opportunity. He was at Paris in the summer of 1789, and says, "It is impossible to havo any other employment at so critical a moment, than going from house to house demanding news." He adds, that every press throughout France was busied in printing pamph- lets in favor of liberty, and that in the book-shops in Paris, every hour produced sometliing new. Mr. Young was in Paris when the royal family, as you will hear in the ensuing chapter, were brought there from Versailles, and resided in a sort of captivity in the Tuileries. He says, " I saw the king walking in the garden of the Tuileries, attended by six of the mihce Bourgeoise. The queen was also there with a lady of her court, but attended so closely by the gardes Bourgeoises, that she could not speak but in a low voice without being overheard. She does not appear in health ; she seems to be much affected, and shows it in her face. A httle garden has been railed off for the dauphin. Here he was at work with a rake and hoe, but not without a guard of two soldiers. He is a very pretty, good-natured looking boy, of five or six year.*) old." Mary. Poor, dear little boy I I fear he could not have much enjoyment of his garden with that horrible guard of soldiers. Ricliard. . How many children had the king and queen ? Mrs. M. They had had four, but at this time two only A..D. 1789. 1 LOUIS XVI iJi were living. Their eldest son died when about six years old, and was spared by hi? early death from partaking in the calam- ities of his family. But, as if sorrow was to be the portion of his race, his short life was embittered by bis jealousy of bis brother, whom, because he was vory beautiful, and more tlian commonly engaging, he was taught to consider as his mother's favorite. The queen, who was a very tender mother, loved all her children alike, and this evident coldness and want of affection in her eldest soa was one of the first severs afflictions of her life. CHAPIER XXXVIII. LOUIS XVI.— IN COIMTmUATION [Years after Christ, 1789- 1793.] , — . -■ - -r *,'- \ W^J Jjl t "»_j fj J The Tuilekies. The first step of importance after the opening of tb« States- General wa.s, that the deputies of the commons assumed, which they did almost immediately, the determination of the point in dispute, whether the deliberations should be carried on in thr(;e separate chambers or only in one. The coparaons declared themselves " The national assembly," and invited the deputies of the nobles and clergy to join them T}»« rf98 LOUIS XVI. :Chap. XXXVIIl majority of the clergy ^oined them first, and then the duke of Orleans with several nobles : and, at length, at the press- ing instance of the king, who was anxious to compose by any means the increased and increasing dissensions of the state all the other deputies of those orders came over. While these things were going on in the assembly, the nobles attending on the court, with the comte d'Artois, the king's second brother, at their head, were occupied in collect- ing round Paris and Versailles all the troops they could mus- ter from different parts of the kingdom. The king dismissed M. Necker, the only person about him who possessed any portion of the public confidence. This step was taken on the 11th of July. Paris, where all the materials of insurrection had been fomentiag for a considerable time, was thrown into commotion by the intelligence of his dismissal. The citizens armed, and incorporating with themselves a portion of the regular army, took the appellation of the "national guard." It was now found that democratical principles were become general even among the military, particularly in Paris, where they were exposed to the infection of all the prevalent feelings of the populace, and to the artifices of those who wished to seduce them. On the 14th of July, this newly-formed army, accompanied by a vast concourse of the lowest people, attacked and storm- ed the Bastile,* which had long been converted into a sort of state prison. Only seven prisoners were found there. Of these, the greater number were imprisoned for forgery. The others were persons who had lost their reason, and who, hav- ing been confined ever since the preceding reign, had been detained because the officers did not know in what way to dispose of them. The frantic populace immediately murder- ed the governor, M. de Launay, and also M. de Lolme, the second in command. The guards who had been concerned in, and had directed the attack, could with difficulty prevail on the mob to spare the garrison. The heads of the mur- dered were fixed upon pikes, and carried in triumph by the mob about the streets — a horrid exhibition of that sanguinary spirit which became predominant from this time in Paris, and which was communicated from thence to other parts of the co-ontrj'. I must cast a vail over most of the enormities which followed — enormities which are among the strongest proofs to be found in hietory how utterly depraved human na- ture may become, when the weakness of the law, and al ' See vignette at the head of the preceding chapter A.U. 1789.J LOUIS XVI. Wa least the forgetfulnea-3 of religion, give free scope to all its fivil passions. The princes of the blood and their adherents now omi- giated. The king again recalled M. Necker. On the 4th of August the vicomte de Noailles, seconded by the duR d'Aiguillon, proposed in the national assembly a complete re- form in the whole system of taxation ; that for the future overy tax should be imposed in proportion to the fortune of the contributor, and that no order of the state should be ex- empted ; that the feudal services should be redeemable, and that personal servitude should be abolished. The excitement f^reated by these proposals spread immediately through the whole assembly. The nobles and clergy seemed to contend with each other which should be the first to offer the greatest sacrifices to the pubhc welfare. When they had once begun, they were afraid to stop. The representatives of the cities renounced their incorporalions ; and every exclusive right and privilege, throughout the whole kingdom, was at length resigned. No one end, however, did these resignations gain for those who made them : the reigning party was more in- clined to insult their weakness than to respect or praise theiv generosity. On the 20th of August, a declaration of rights was agreed on, to serve as a basis of the new constitution. On the 20th of September it received the royal sanction. Though undei this new constitution the crown was not abolished, yet its whole real power was taken away. At about six in the mornmg on the 6th of October, a furious mob of both sexes, who had come from Paris the pre- ceding day, made an attack on the palace of Versailles, and forced their way into it. They seized two of the gardes du corps, dragged them from, their posts, and murdered them in the most cruel manner. A party rushed into the queen's apartments, with loud outcries, execrations, and threats, too horrid to bo related. The sentinel, M. de Miomenil, after bravely resisting for a few minutes, finding himself entirely overpowered, opened the queen's door, and called out with a loud voice, " Save the queen : her life is aimed at : I stand alone against two thousand tigers !" He soon after sank down covered with wounds, and was left for dead ; but com- ing again to the use of his senses, he had the good fortune to creep away unobserved through the crowd. It wiU afford pleasure to all who love courage and fidelity to know that he was* afterward cured of his wounds. The ruffians, reeking 5»0 LOUIS XVI. LChap. XXXVlil with his blood, rushed into the chamber of the queen, and pierced with bayonets and poniards the bed whence this per secuted woman had fled, almost naked, and through ways unknown to the murderers, to the king's apartments. The king was already alarmed, and had gone to seek her. He was met by some of his guards, who escorted him back to his own apartment, where the qneen was already arrived, and where soon afterward the children were brought to them. In the mean time, the gardes du corps were hunted from place to place through all the purlieus of the palace, much as the Protestants had been during the massacre of Saint Bartholomew. In this imminent danger, the marquis de la Fayette inter- posed. He commanded the national guard of Paris, and had come to Versailles the preceding evening. He had but little influence over his troops, and less over the raging mob ; but on the king's promising to set out instantly for Paris, he suc- ceeded in checking the immediate progress of violence. To Paris with the king ! was the universal cry : there was no refusing or remonstrating : the whole royal family was at the mercy of the rabble, nor could La Fayette have insured their lives for a moment, if they had appeared to hesitate. The mournful procession, which lasted six hours, though the distance is only twelve miles, began immediately. The mob accompanied and surrounded the royal carriage. To render the triumph more complete, a party of the gardes du corps, deprived of their arms, and treated as prisoners of war. were appointed, under the name of an escort, to attend their sovereign. That this procession also might in all its parts be characteristic, the mangled and bloody heads of the two guards who had been murdered in the morning were carried along on pikes to grace the spectacle, and, it is said, were fre- quently and designedly exhibited before the windows of the carriage which contained the royal captives. The king was lodged at the. Tuileries ; * the city was illuminated, and the evening spent in triumph by the Parisians. The national assembly also removed at this time to Paris. During the year 1790 the king remained at the Tuileries, in a condition no way difierent from that of a prisoner, and not treated even with personal respect. On the 16th of June a decree passed the assembly for the abolition of all hereditary titles, orders, armorial bearings, and other marks of the distinction of ranks in society. Of all the king's min * See vignette at the bead of this chapter. A.D 1790 J LOUIS XVI. SO isters, M. Nccker aloac, though himself a plebeian atid born and bred in the republic of Geneva, had the courage to op pose the. idle folly of this decree. On the 4th of Septeinbpr this minister resigned. He was a man of the strictest ai.d rnos-^- unblemished integrity, and had, during the greater part of his career of ofRce, possessed throughout France high pop- ularity. But the opinions of the people were now in a state of disturbance, in which every thing, except crime and vio- lence, was suspecteci of a want of zeal for liberty ; and thia man, who had acquired in France an eminence which per- haps no foreigner had ever previously attained in any coun- try, and who had certainly done nothing to forfeit the public favor, retired to his own country without the smallest mark of honor, esteem, or regret. He died in 1804, at Copet. As a minister of finance, he would probably have ranked high in any ordinary times or circumstances. It is generally sup- posed that he had not that stamp of high ability which alone could have carried the government in safety through the perils by which it had been of late environed ; but it must be ever doubtful whether, under the circumstances in which France was placed at the time of the convocation of the States-General, the wisdom or virtue of any individual could have averted the fatal consequences which were to follow. A decree was passed on the 27th of November, ejecting from their benefices all those of the clergy who should refuse to take an oath " to maintain to the utmost the new constitu- tion of France, and particularly the decrees relative to the civil constitution of the country." The pope had declared himself in disapprobation of tliis oath ; and it was refused unhesitatingly by vast numbers of the clergy, including al- most all the bishops. Of one hundred and thirty-one bishops, there were only three who would take the oath. Dbring these events the number of emigrants increased considerably. In the spring of 1791, they formed an army on the German frontier, under the command of the prince of Conde.* They assumed a black uniform, faced with yellow, with a death's head, surrounded by a laurel wreath, on one cuff, and a sword on the other, with the motto, " Conquer or die." Much jealousy was entertained in France that thia army of emigrants would attempt a counter-revolution, and ihat" it would have the support also of many of the powers * This prince of Conde, Louis Joseph, was the only son of the duke of Bourbon, who succeeded the if gent Orleans as minister to Louis XV Hee page 4.'^5. 602 LOUIS XVI. lChap. XXXVm of Europe, who were evidently alarmed by the internal dis- orders of France, and withheld, perhaps, from interfering in them only by the reasonable apprehension that any symp- tom of external hostility might endanger the king's personal safety. The king and queen and their children, the princess Eliza- beth, the king's sister, with monsieur and madame, the king'a brother and his wife, were now the only persons of the royal family who remained in France : all the rest had emigrated. Monsieur and madame left the palace of the Luxemburg on the night of the 20th of June, 1791, and on the 23d reach- ed Brussels in safety. On the same night also of the 20th the king himself, accompanied by the queen, and their chil- dren, and the princess Elizabeth, quitted the Tuileries ; the king's intention, however, not being to leave France, but to put himself at the head of the loyal part of his army. Un- happily they were stopped at Varennes, and brought back under escort of the national guard. All the suspicions which had before been entertained of the king's fidelity to the new constitution were, of course, augmented by his thus attempting to escape ; but he was received at Paris with more temper than could have been expected, and for a short- time the affairs of the country bore a comparatively tranquil appearance. The national assembly was now hastening fast to the final completion of the new constitution. On the 3d of September it was presented to the king, and on the 13th he signified his acceptance of it. On the following day he repaired in person to the assembly, and being conducted to a chair of state, pre- pared for him at the side of the president, he signed the con- stitutional act, and took an oath to be faithful to the law and the nation. On the 30th of September, this first national assembly, which is often known by the name of the constitu- ent assembly, dissolved itself, after having, by a kind of selF- denying ordinance, excluded all its members from being eligi- ble to seats in the next assembly. That next, which is called the legislative assembly, opened on the 1st of October, and soon gave proof of a most lamentable unfitness for the import- ant functions devolved on it. Things might have turned out better, if some of the members of the first assembly, many of whom, it was hoped, might have learned wisdom from ex* perience, had retained their place among the national repre eentatives. The frightful violences which had been committed through- A D 1792.] LOUIS XVI. 603 out France, the unsparing attacks which had been made, on the royal authority, and an apprehension that the dangerous principles which had in part produced thera might spread to their own dominions, had now excited a very general alarm among the sovereign princes of Europe. Francis II., who, on the sudden death of Leopold, in the beginning of 1792, succeeded to the possession of the imperial cro^vn, and in con- junction with him the king of Prussia, were the first powers to prepare for hostilities. War was decreed by the national assembly against Francis on the 20th of April, 1792. The first operations were unfavorable to the French, who attacked, but unsuccessfully, the Austrian Netherlands. On the 25th of July, the duke of Brunswick, commander-in-chief of the united armies of Prussia and Austria, issued at Coblentz a most violent manifesto, in which he declared himself author- ized by the sovereigns of those countries to support the royal authority in France, and even resolved to inflict " on those who shall deserve it, the most exemplary and ever-memorable avenging punishments, by giving up the city of Paris to mili- tary execution, and exposing it to total destruction ; and that the rebels who shall be guilty of illegal resistance shall suflei the punishments which they shall have deserved." It may well be supposed that this arrogant declaration excited s general indignation in France. It seemed to unite against the invaders all who were not zealots for the royal authority and perhaps did more than any other single cause to pave the way to the bloody tragedy of the king's death. But this wa? to be preceded by new violences and indignities. On the 10th of August an attack was made on the Tuile- ries by a republican party, which was now gaining the ascen- dency. The king and the royal family took refuge in the national assembly. The insurgents, in the mean time, forced the gates of the palace, and made an attack on the regiment of Swiss guards who defended it. The national guards, who had been joined with the Swiss, deserted thera most perfidious- ly in their hour of need, and the Swiss were at length over powered by numbers, and gave way. AU of them who could be found, and not the guards only, but also the servants of the palace, were massacred in cold blood, and even those who escaped to the assembly were with difficulty preserved froix; the popular fury. On the 14 th of August the royal family were committed prisoners to the old palace of the Temple, one of the most melancholy places of custody that could b« selected. £04 LOUIS XVI. [Chap. XXXVlll Meanwhile the combined armies had entered France, with the full expectation of speedy victory. The Prussians, in particular, proud of their victories under the great Frederic, believed that they would have nothing to do but to trample on the undisciplined rabble whom they should find opposed to them. All France was in a state of the greatest disorder. Almost all the officers who had formerly served in its armiea had joined the emigrant army, and had given the duke of Brunswick the most erroneous accounts of the pretended dis- satisfaction of all orders of men with the conduct of the ruling factions at Paris. The operations of the duke were in the first instance successful. He took Longwy and Verdun, and it was expected that he would advance immediately on Paris. This apprehension excited among the ruffians who now abounded in that distracted city a still more savage fury than they had before manifested. On the 2d of September a party of the Federes, as those persons called themselves, who pre- tended the greatest zeal for liberty, rushed to the prisons, where a great number of priests were under confinement fof refusing to take the oath which was prescribed by the late constitution. Of these unhappy men, twenty-three were massacred in the abbey of St. Germain ; one hundred and fifty-two at the convent of the Carmelites ; ninety- two at the seminary of St. Firmin. The murder of the Swiss officers who had escaped on the 10th of August, and had afterward been imprisoned, soon followed : other inurders were then perpetrated. A sort of tribunal was instituted, before which prisoners of each sex, and of all ages, were brought, in mock- ery of the forms of legal justice. The queen's confidential friend, the beautiful princess of Lamballe, was, after one of these mock trials, murdered, and her head placed on a pike, and carried round the streets. After exhibiting it at the Pa- lais Royal, where the duke of Orleans was at that moment sitting down to dinner, the assassins carried it, together with the bleeding heart, to the Temple, and displayed it under the window of the apartment in which the royal prisoners were confined. The dreadful spectacle threw the queen into con- vulsions, in which she remained for several hours. The number of persons murdered on this and the following day ia said to have amounted to 1085. The hospital of the Bicetre. said to contain above 4000 persons, was afterward besieged by the same frantic wretches. After a resistance of eight days, it was taken, and every soul within the walls was put f/O death. Other massacres were perpetrated at Orleans and i.n 1792. J LOUIS XVI. 505 Rlieims, at Lyons, and at Meaux. In short, there is not in the history of mankind any more painful and horrible narra- tive than that of these massacres of September, 1792, in the midst of a nation which has always professed itself the model of all politeness and civilization. The only ground, indeed., on which I can feel myself justified in giving you this rela- Uon, even though I suppress the worst barbarities, is, that the shocking picture here presented to us of the worst excess- es of human vice and depravity, is at the same time relievec by that which we have, on the other hand, of the heroism of many of the unhappy sufferers. The princess de Lamballe bore, with unshaken fortitude the insults of her ferocious persecutors, and refused, though mildly, to seek forgiveness at their hands. The unhappy priests, who were murdered in their prisons, met their fate with that calm resignation which can be derived only from conscious virtue, and from a firm reliance on God. Their deportment extorted, in some, instances, the admiration even of their persecutors. M. Violet, an officer who presided over the massacre at the convent of the Carmelites, exclaimed, some time after, in an involuntary enthusiasm, " I am lost '. I am overpowered with astonishment : it is beyond my con- ception : and I am convinced that any man who had been witness of the scene, as I was, w^ould have been equally astonished. The priests met death with as much joy and as much pleasure as if they had been going to a bridal feast I" And yet I know not that even while we venerate the forti- tude displayed by these victims of the most imbridled tyranny that ever disgraced any civilized age, we ought to allow our selves to be very greatly surprised by it. When the spirit i,* roused by oppression, and hope is lost in despair, and particu larly when long and severe alfiictions have directed the mind to the true sources of consolation, I can hardly see why even our weak nature should shrink from the refuge afibrded by a short and easy death, which places us at once in His merciful hands, who, we know, inflicts not on his servants any eartlily chastisement, which shall not be for their eternal welfare. On the 21st of September, the national legislative assem hly was succeeded by a new body of representatives, which took the name of the national convention. Two English- men, the celebrated Dr. Priestley, and a man of the name of Paine, who had acquired much notoriety by his democratical writings, were elected into this body by certain departraenls . but the former dechned accepting the seat. *0« LOUIS XVI. [Cha?. XXXVIIl Cn the 22(1, the first day of the actual sitting of the new convention, it was decreed by acclamation, ". that royalty is abolished in France." It was the next day decreed, that all public acts should be dated by the year of the French repub- lic. This rage of republicanism soon went so far, that the ordinary titles, monsieur and madame, were abolished, and the appellation of citizen substituted in their stead, as being more suitable to the principles of equality. There were also violent parties among the republicans them selves. The most numerous party, and by much the most moderate, was called that of the Gironde, and sometimes that of the Brissotines, from Brissot, their principal leader. The opposite party, which was entitled the Mountain, was chiefly composed of men of daring and sanguinary characters. At the head of this party were Danton and Robespierre. To this party was also now commonly appropriated the more last- mg and memorable appellation of Jacobins; an appellation which had been first given to one of the most violent clubs of revolutionists, which met in the hall of the Jacobin friars a^; Paris ; a body of religious, who were of the Dominican order, and whose convent at Paris was in the Pvue St. Jacq'ues. Oi all the causes which swelled the horror of the revolution- probably the most considerable was the evil influence of these clubs, and of others of similar character, which Avere perpetu- ally meeting to discuss the measures of the legislature. In these assemblies, which were composed almost entirely of the worst and most ignorant members of society, the hardy and the ferocious alone took the lead. These ruled the populace, by exciting a universal fear that moderation would be inter- preted into a want of civism, or a want of sufficient zeal for liberty. They also terrified the convention into many meas- ures, which the great majority of the members would certainly not have been prevailed on to adopt, if they had not feared to incur the same suspicion. One great object of the Jacobins was to destroy the king. This unhappy monarch was, as you have been told, confined in the Temple, where every art which a malignant cruelty could suggest was put in practice to make his imprisonment irksome. Even the the common necessaries of life were often withheld, and scarcely ever granted without much insolence, and after long delay. Threatening and indecent inscriptions were scrawled on the walls, and offensive ballads sung in the tiearing of the royal prisoners. But they bore these insults with an ui.it^haken magnanimity. Not a murmur, nor a com A.D. 1792.] LOUIS XVI. 507 plaint, ever escaped from them. The kiig", and queen, and madame Elizabeth, employed their captivity in the education of the dauphin and his sister, and in reading to each other. The king employed also a part of every morning and evening in study. A short airing was allowed them in the garden, but they never could avail themselves of this permission, without encountering the insolence and depraved animosity of those who watched and surrounded them. On the 11th of December the ill-fated monarch was ordered to the bar of the convention. He was accused of having committed various crimes against the sovereignty and liberty of the people, and was obliged to answer several interrogato- ries. He, on his part, demanded a copy of the accusation, and of the papers on which it was founded, and claimed the right of choosing counsel for his defense. No objection was made to the first of these demands, and the last was granted also, but with some difficulty. On the king's return to the Temple he requested to see his family, but was answered by the officers that they had no orders on the subject. In the course of the evening he often renewed the same request. For a long time no reply was given. He was at length told that he must wait till it Avas permitted by the convention. By that body, four days after- W"ard, it was decreed, that the queen and madame Elizabeth should have no comraiunication with the king during the trial ; but that he might, if he pleased, have the company of his children, to whom, however, it was in that case strictly for- bidden to see either their mother or their aunt. Louis then refused to avail himself of a decree which W'as clogged with buch a restriction. The counsel chosen by the king for liis defense were M. Tronchet, M. Lamoignon de Malesherbes, and M. Deseze — men who executed with great courage and ability the honor able task confided to them. On Christmas-day the king made his will : on the following morning he was summoned to the convention for the purpose of making his defense, which was read by M. Deseze. When his counsel had finished, the king made a short speech, expressive of the regard wliich he had always felt for his people. He was then conducted back to the Temple, and did not again appear before the conven- tion. The discussions which followed were brought to a close on the 16th and 17th of January. Not one single member of the convention had the boldness to assert the innocence of his I?(j& LOUIS XVI. [Chap. XXXVlh. sovereign. Of 721 sufFrages which were given on the ques tion, what punishment should be inflicted, 366 were for im- mediate death. The duke of Orleans, now called Philip Egalite, a name which he had assum.ed to pay court to the mob, was, to his eternal disgrace, among those who voted for the king's death. Paine, the Englishman, who must have owed his seat in the convention to the intemperance of hia republican politics, was among those who voted against it. The defenders of Louis were then admitted to the bar, and M. Deseze read a note from the king declaring that he ap- pealed to the nation itself agamst the sentence of its represent- atives. But this appeal the convention would not allow, and the next day they decreed that the sentence should be exe- cuted without delay. On Sunday, January 20th, the messengers of the conve«i- tion entered Louis's apartment, in order to announce to him in form this decree. The king demanded four things : the (irst, a delay of three days, to prepare himself for appearing before God ; secondly, the assistance and consolation of a priest ; thirdly, permission to see his family privately ; and lastly, an exemption, for the little time he had to live, from the oppressive vigilance of the mmiicipal officers. The delay was refused, but the other requests were granted. The inter- viev/ with his family, wliich took place late in the evening, was affecting and agitating in the extreme. He promised to ^ee them again the next morning ; but when the morning came, he thought that it would be most advisable to spare both them and himself the pang of another sad separation. After passing some time at his devotions with M. Edgeworth, the priest whom, at the king's desire, the convention had permit- ted to attend him, he went to bed and slept soundly. On the morning of the 2]st, at eight o'clock, he entered the carriage in which he was to be conveyed to execution. The procession was nearly two hours in reaching the place appointed, formerly the Place of Louis XV., but which had now the name given it of the Place of the Revolution. The interval was employed by the king in reading from a breviary, lent him by M. Edgeworth, the prayers for persons in ex- tremity. When the carriage stopped at the scaflbld, the king said, " We are at last arrived."* He pulled off his coat, unbut- toned the neck of his shirt, ascended the scaffold with steadi- aess, air d surveyed for a few moments the immense multitude ; * "I^ous voici done amves." A D. 1/92.] LOUIS XVI. SO* then approaching the edge, he made a motion for silence, ana with a raised voice, said, " Frenchmen, I die innocent : ] pardon all my enemies, and I hope that France — " Santerre, one of the leaders of the Jacobins, a man who, I have been told, had been a butcher, and who was on horse- back near the scaffold, made a signal for the drums to beat, and for the executioners to perform their office. The king's voice was drowned in the noise of the drums. Three executioners then approached to seize him. At the sight of a cord, with which one of them attempted to tie his arms, the king, for the first time, showed signs of indignation, and seemed to be about to resist, but he recollected himself in a moment, and submitted. The executioners laid hold of him, and placed him on the guillotine. The confessor then, kneeling with his face near to that of the king, pronounced aloud, " Son of St. Louis, ascend to heaven !" The blow was given. M. Edgeworth's face was sprinkled with the king's blood. The executioners walked round the scaffold, holding up the head to be seen by the people. A few, who had probably been hired for the purpose, cried, "Long live the nation I long live the repubhc !" The queen, the princess Elizabeth, the dauphin, and the princess royal continued for some time in close confinement in the Temple. On the 3d of July, the dauphin, who was about eight years old, was forcibly taken from his mother, and placed under the care of a cobbler of the name of Simon. He still continued to be confined in the Temple ; and this separation from his own family was doubtless intended as a means of degrading his manners and character. This poor young prince, however, happily for him, died on the 9th of June, 1795. The queen was brought to trial, October 14th, 1793, and on the l6th of that month was executed, meeting her fate with the greatest fortitude and composure. Madame Eliza- beth was put to death on the 10th of May following. The young princess, after the death of her brother in 1795, was given up by the convention to the Austrians, in exchange for some French commissioners who had been made prisoners 'She afterward married the duke d'Angouleme. Louis XVI. was born August 23, 1754 ; was guillotined January 21, 1793. He married. May 16, 1770, Marie An- toinette, archduchess of Aastria, by whom he had two sons, and two daughters. (1.) Louis Joseph, bom October 22. 1781 ; died June 4, Sie LOUIS XVI. LChap. XXXVIIi 178S. (2 ) Louis Charles, afterward called Louis XVII., born March 27, 1785; died in the Ter.iple, June 9, 1795. (1.) Marie Therese, born Dec. 29th, 1778, married after- ward the due d'Angouleme. (2.) Sophie Helene, died an iniant. A very short time after the murder of the queen, the duke of Orleans, who though he had committed so many crimes, in the hope of acquiring popular favor, had yet never acquired it, but was at all times the object of universal indignation and hatred, was condemned and executed. On the day of his execution only a very few people were present when first he ascended the cart, but the rumor soon flew, and attracted innumerable gazers. These reproached him in the severest terms with all the infamy of his past life, especially with hia assassinations, his perfidy, and his vote against the king. All this, however, together with his actual death on the scaffold, he bore with the greatest possible intrepidity. He was in thr forty-seventh year of his age. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XXXVIII. Richard. I can not help thinking that it was very cow'- ftrdly in the nobles of France to emigrate, and leave the king and queen in their distress. Mrs. Markham. Some of the nobility, who by their at- tachment to the court had made themselves obnoxious to the people, were urged by the king and queen themselves to leave the country at the first breaking out of the troubles. Among these was the duchess of Polignac, who, when she afterward heard in her exile of the queen's death, was so much shocked that she uttered one shriek, and instantly expired. Mary. It was very good-natured in the king and queer to wish to send their friends away out of danger ; but I think that if I had been one of them I would not have gone. George. Nor I neither. I would have tried to have made the nobles rally round the throne, and I would have defend- ed the king, sword in hand, instead of sneaking out of the kingdom. Mrs. M. The king's excessive timidity, and his dread of shedding blood, damped the ardor of those who would have been wilhng to serve him. I, however, quite agree with you in blaming the emigration of the nobles, and it was not long b*efore the court found the ill consequences of it. Pressing t.-'ONV 1 LOUIS XVI. 51 i letters were sent to invite many of them to coine back, ir. Bome of whioli tlie queen added with her omti hand the fol lowing postscript : " If you love your king, your religion, your government, and your country, return ! return I return I Mane Antoinette." George. If I had got such a letter, not fire nor watei should have kept me. Mrs. M. From the time when the fortunes of France Degan to cloud over, the character of the queen began to rise. She was no longer the frivolous creature she had formerly been. She devoted herself wholly to her husband and chil dren, and although she was continually importuned to with- draw from the popular fury, of which she was peculiarly the object, and to retire to Vienna, she could not be induced to leave France, and would say, " My only care is for my hus- band and children ; with them and them only will I live and die." Unfortunately for her, the king's indecision, and par- ticularly his want of presence of mind on all sudden emer- gencies, freqently obliged her to act a prominent part ; and thus the public became encouraged in the notion that she was herself the author of aU the measures of the court. Mary. Was she clever in public affairs ? Mrs. M. No person whose judgment is weak, and tein per impetuous, can he clever in either public or private busi ness, and it must be owned that the counsels of this unfor- tunate woman were often very injudicious. But what appears to me the most blamable part of her conduct is, that she had an extreme fondness for secret contrivances and under-hand plots. These plots and contrivances were perpetually be- trayed, and thus exposed her to the continual suspicion of being in league with the enemies of the state. But whatever might be her errors as a politician, and as a queen, her con- duct as a wife and mother was exemplary, and in all the con- cluding trials of her unhappy life she showed an heroic courage and greatness of mind. Richard. If the royal family had not been found out, and bi-ought back that time when they were trying to make their escape, who knows but that they might all have been live now. Mrs. M. The king always refused to quit the kingdom. At the time he was stopped at Varennes, he was only pre- paring to go to Longwy, a place on the frontier, where he meant to put himself under the protection of that part of the army which was commanded by M. de BouJlle. a steady roy ii2 - LOUIS XVI. [Chap. XXXVm alist. But there seemed, a fatality in all the measures which were taken by this unfortunate family. Every attempt which they made, or which was made by others, to remedy thei\ affairs, only made them worse. Of this the liistory of thoir flight to Varennes is a striking instance. The plan had b"en principally arranged by count Fersen, a young Swedish noble- 'nan who happened to be in Paris, and whose ardor inspireo him with this project to save them. The count knew that a Russian lady, named madame KorfF, was about to leave Paris with her family, and he obtained a duplicate of her passport. Madame de Tourzel, the governess of the royal children, was to represent the Russian lady, and the young princp«s and the dauphin were to pass for her two daughters ; the queen lor the governess ; and the king and the princess Elizabeth lor attendants. It was arranged that they should take the road through Chalons, and that at Pont de Sommerville a detachment from Bouille's army, commanded by an oihcer named Goguelat should be in waiting to escort them to Va- rennes, where relays of horses were to be placed to carry them to Longwy. Every thing being arranged, the first difficulty was how to get the royal family out of the palace, where they were doubly guarded by the suspicious watchfulness of the republicans, and by the fetters that still remained of the court etiquettes. At about half past ten at night the dauphin and his sister were taken from their beds. The poor little boy was so sleepy that he could scarcely stand, and when he saw himself dressed ii; girl's clothes, he asked if they were going to act a play. Tht children and madame de Tourzel were first conveyed to the coach, which was waiting at some distance from the palace. The dauphin was soon asleep at the bottom of the carriage, in happy ignorance of his danger ; but the princess, who was about thirteen years old, was able to comprehend the anxieties of their situation. Indeed, I take tliis accomit chiefly from hei narrative of the transaction. After waiting one hour, which, as you may well think, seemed an age, the king and queen, and princess Elizabeth joined them, and they set off, driven by count Fersen, who acted as their coachman, to a place where a traveling carriage was in waiting. Into this the royal party got, and the count, to avoid suspicion, was obliged to hasten back. Never was a more helpless set of beings cast adrift in the A^orld than the six poor creatures, who were now at the dead rit' the night tc sleer the'r course across a country in which the^ OoNV.l LOUIS XVI, ^il were surrounded by a thousand dangers. They had, it is true^ three gentlemen in their train who acted as couriers ; but these supported so ill their assumed character, that instead of assisting, they only added to the hazards of the royal partj^ As for the king and queen, they knew no more of the routine of traveling for private persons in France than the poor boy who was asleep at their feet. They however went on, accord- mg to the plan that had been arranged for them, and proceeded through that night, and through part of the following day, without meeting with any other mischance than a shght ao cident to the carriage, which caused some delay. On this delay, however, hung the fates of the fugitives Goguelat, after Avaiting some time at the appointed place, not seeing the royal party arrive, concluded that the enterprise had been abandoned ; and, perceiving that he and his party had excited the observation of the country people, gave orders to return by cross roads to Varennes.* He had not left Pont de Sommerville more than a quarter of an hour, when the travelers arrived, and were thrown into the utmost perplexity and dismay at not finding there the expected escort. They, however, proceeded, and arrived at St. Menehould, where the king had the imprudence to put his head out of the carriage windov/, to make some inquiries about the road. At this instant Drouet, the postmaster's son, caught a glimpse of him, and was struck with his resemblance to the impression of the royal head on some new assignats, which he had that morning received from Paris. He drew near the carriage, and the sight of the queen confirmed him in his suspicions, and he set ofi" instantly to give the alarm at Varennes. In the mean time the royal family advanced. They arrived at Varennes in the night ; but not knowing where to find the relay of horses, they drove about the town in search of them, thus giving Drouet ample time to rouse the inhabitants. Present- ly the place was in an uproar ; the bridge was barricaded, so that the fugitives could not proceed ; and the carriage was surrounded by a throng of people. At this juncture Goguelat and his party rode up, and asked the king's permission to force a way for him through the town. The king inquired wheth- er it would cost many lives, and on being told that it probably would, he forbade maldng tlie attempt, and yielded himself a prisoner. George. Was it cowardice or stupidity, that made hin: give himself up so tamely ? * ^t some distance east of Par's, and a Htt j to the HDrth. V* 514 LOUIS XVI. [Chip. XXXVIli Mrs M. I should rather think it was his natural tender- ness of lisposition, which made him shrink from the shedding of blood. In Louis's character there was a singular mixture of cowardice and courage. In danger and difficulty he had the timidity of a child ; but in misfortune no man could show more firmness and resolution. Richard. I suppose the thing was that Louis was a cow- ard by nature, but that reason and religion gave him courage to bear misfortunes. Mary. Pray, mamma, go on, and tell us what happened at Varennes. Mrs. M. The royal party was obliged to alight from the carriage, and to enter the house of the mayor, who was a grocer. Here the queen, sitting down in the shop, exhausted all her powers of fascination and persuasion on the mayor's wife (who it should appear was chief manager of the affairs of Varennes), in hopes to prevail with her to befriend them The woman seemed greatly touched, but remained neverthe- less inflexible, and persisted in saying, while the tears rolled down her cheeks, that it would be the destruction of her hus- band should he connive at their escape. Marie Antoinette pleaded in vain ; the wretched fugitives were compelled again to get into their carriage, and to retrace their steps, amidst the insults of a disorderly mob, which the news of the arrest of the royal family had assembled round them. Barnave and Petion, two deputies from the national assembly, were sent to meet them on their return to Paris. These men got into the carriage. Barnave conducted himself with civility and respect ; but Petion, who was by birth a gentleman, affected to show his dvism, by assuming a vulgar and dis- gusting freedom of manner. He threw the bones of a cold chicken, which he was eating in the carriage, out of the win- dow, and the king was obUged to draw his head back to avoid being struck by them. He then took the dauphin rudely on his knee, and began to play with his hair, which was very beautiful, twirling the ringlets round his fingers. The poor boy, half frightened, and half hurt, cried out at this treatment ; on which the queen could no longer conceal her displeasure, and snatching the child away, said, " Give me my son ; he is accustomed to tenderness and delicacy, which renders him li.tle fit for such familiarity." Mary. And how were they used when they got back to Paris ? Mrs. M W''orse as you may suppose, than pver.^ 'Wey OoN? J LOQIS XVI. 514 were replaced in the Tuileries, and watched with the utmost vigilance. Guards were placed at the doois of their apart ments night and day, and the queen could only obtain per- mission to have her bed-room door closed while she was dress- ing and undressing. The princesse de Lamballe had a short time before escaped to England ; hut when she heard of the unfortunate termination of the flight to Varennes, she resolved to return to Paris, and share the prison and the afflictions oi her friend. The queen of England used every argument to detain her, but without effect. When she arrived at the Tuileries, and beheld the change which a few weeks had wrought in the beautiful Marie Antoinette, she could scarce- ly believe her senses. The queen's eyes were sunk in their sockets, her hair had turned white in one night, and she look- ed ten years older. Indeed, from the moment of the arrest, she had given up every thing as lost. Her spirits were bro- ken, and she almost entirely lost her sleep. But though her beauty was thus dimmed, and all her hopes were gone, she still maintained the grace and dignity of her air, and when it was necessary could call uj) the energies of her lofty spirit. As for the king, he appeared at this time to be sinking into a state of lethargy. Ricliard. Was the princesse de Lamballe one of the royal family ? Mrs. M. No ; she was an Italian, and related to the king of Sardinia. She was the widow of the prince de Lam- balle, the only son of the due de Penthievre, grandson of the comte de Toulouse, one of the illegitimate sons of Louis XIV. ; she was extremely beautiful, and very amiable. Mary. I can not think how they could have had the heart to kill her. M7'S. M. One can only account for it by saying, that the Parisians were at this time possessed by a mad and malignant spirit of party, which, as has been truly observed, " shuts up every avenue of the heart, and renders us cruel and wicked." Some peculiarly melancholy circumstances attending the death of the princess Lamballe are to be met with in a book purporting to be written by one of her confidential attendants, and containing her memoirs. It is there said, that while she was in the prison de la Force, the due de Penthievre, whose name is never mentioned hut in terms of the greatest respect, left no means imtried to save her. On the first rumor of an intended massacre of the prisoners, he engaged a person, by the ofTer of an enormous bribe, to convey her in the night ild I.OUIS K"L L^HAP. xxxvij; Lime to a place of security. In tlie laeau time an idea had pone abroad that the murderers, to save themselves the trouhla of searching the prisons, intended to open all the doors, and to call out libre, libre, in the supposition that the prisoners, allured by the hope of freedom, would rush out of their cells, and fall on the knives of the assassins, who would stand ready to attack them. A friend of madame de Lamballe, in the belief that this most treacherous plan would be adopted, con- trived to have a billet conveyed to her couched in these words, " Let whatever happen, for God's sake do not quit your cell : you will be spared." In consequence of this well-meant but unfortunate intimation, the princess refused to accompany the due de Penthievre's agent, who came a short time after- ward to convey her away, and the man was compelled to leave her in prison. Mary. How sorry the friend must have been who sent the letter I Gem-ge. You said that you took the history of the jour- ney to Varennes from the account which the young princess wrote of it. Is that account printed ? Mrs. M. Yes, it is ; and also a very interesting narrative which she wrote of the events which took place in the Tem- ple, during the time she was a prisoner in it. Mary. Can you tell us any particulars ? Mrs. M. I can ; but I must warn you that it is a very heart-rending history. Mary. Well, manoma, I will try to bear it. , Mrs. M. The princess was about fourteen years old when she first entered the gloomy walls of her prison. She hau great difficulty in writing her journal ; for having been de- prived of pen, ink, and paper, she was obliged to write with a pencil on such scraps of paper as she could secrete from hei iailers. These scraps were afterward collected together and published. "When the royal family were first placed in the tower of the Temple, they had the comfort of being togeth- er ; there v/as a good colleetion of old books, to which the king was allowed access ; and these books and the instruction of the dauphin furnished his chief occupations. But you shall have the princess's own accoxuit, which, I ought to re- mind you, is written with the artless simplicity of a girl, and under every disadvantage of time and circumstance. " My father rose at seven, and was employed in his devotions till eight ; afterward he dressed himself and my brother, and at nine came tc breakfast w^th my mother. After breakfa!".t UoNT.j LOUIS :.VI. -ill ray fathei taught my brother hia lesso s till eleven. The child then played till twelve, at which hour the whole family was obliged to walk in the garden, whatever the weathei might be, because the guards, who were r3lieved at that time, wished to see all the prisoners, and satisfy themselves that we were safe. The walk lasted till dinner, which was at two o'clock. After dinner, my father and mother played at tric- trac, or piquet, or, to speak more plainly, pretended to play, that they might have an opportunity of saying a few words to one another." Mary. Were they not allowed then to talk to each other except when they were playing at cards ? M7-S. M. They were allowed, indeed, to speak, but only in a voice loud enough for the persons, who were constantly keeping guard over them, to hear what they said. Perhaps they observed that while they were playing at cards they were not so narrowly watched, and might enjoy the comfort of conversing unobserved. Richard. ' If you please, mamma, will you go on ? Mrs. M. " At six my brother went again to my father, to say his lessons, and to play till supper-time. After supper, my mother undressed him quickly, and put him to bed. We then went up to our own apartment. The king did not go to bed till eleven. My mother worked a great deal of tapes- try ; she directed my studies, and often made me read aloud. My aunt was frequently at prayer, and read every morning the divine service for the day. She read a good many relig- ious books, and sometimes, at the queen's request, would read aloud." George. Were they allowed to have any servants to at- tend on them ? Mrs. M. The king was permitted to retain M. Clery, his valet, but the queen was deprived of all her women, and was waited upon by her daughter and sister. At first they were allowed to have a woman to clean out their rooms, light theii fires, and do all the harder work ; but this woman, who was a low, vulgar creature, and a furious repubhcan, proved a great torment to them. At last she lost her intellects, and they had themselves, for a time, the trouble and anxiety of attending on her in the unhappy state to which she was thus reduced. When she was gone, the two princesses had to make their beds, and clean the rooms. The young princesa Bays, that she and her aunt were very awkward at this work at first, and that it used to fatigue tbem very much. Bui 513 LOUIS XVI. [Chap, XXXVIIl they preferred a.iy thing to the teing pestered with aiiothei female Jacohiu. Mary. It seemed as if every thing was done that could be thought of for the mere purpose of tormenting these poor people. Mrs. M. There was scarcely a moment in wliich they were not exposed to some fresh insult or vexation. They were frequently searched, to see that they had no treasonable papers, that is, what the municipal officers chose to call trea- sonable papers, about them. They were deprived of almost all their personal comforts. Their work v/as searched ; and at last their tapestry was taken from them, under pretense that it might afford them a secret method of writing or com- municating intelligence by hidden signs or devices. While the queen was giving her daughter lessons, a municipal officer was contmually looking over their shoulders, to see that they were not employed in plots and conspiracies. The wretches even carried their insults so far as to accuse the princess Elizabeth of having stolen a china cup, which by some acci- dent was broken or mislaid. When the king was dead, his ring and other little remembrances, which he had wished his family to keep for his sake, were withheld from them ; and the only remembrance of him which his sister, who was ten- derly attached to him, was able to procure, was an old nat which by some accident had been left in the tower. This hax «!he treasured for his sake as a most valuable relic. It did not, however, long escape the prying eyes of the municipal officers, who took it away, saying, " it was a suspicious cii- «umstance." George. The unfeeling savages I I have hardly patienct! to hear any more about them. Mrs. M. But the most affecting part of the narrative is yet to come. The princess, after detailing her father's trial and death in a very touching manner, next describes her mother's mute despair, and her aunt's pious resignation, and thus proceeds: "On the 3d of July, 1793, the municipal officers read to us a decree of the convention that my brother should be separated from us. As soon as he heard this, he threw himself into the arms of my mother, and entreated, with violent cries, not to be separated iirom her. My mother was struck to the earth by this cruel order : she would not part with her son, and she actually defended, against the ef- forts of the officers, the bed on which shi had placed him My mother exclaijned, they had better kill her than tear hei CoNr.) LOUIS XVI. 519 son from lier. An hour was spent in resistance on her part. in threats and insults from the officers, and in prayers and tears on the part of us all. At last they threatened the lives of both him and me, and my mother's maternal tenderness at length forced her to this sacrifice. My aunt and I dressed the child, for my poor mother had no longer strength lor any thing : nevertheless, when he was dressed, she took him and delivered him into the hands of the officers, bathing him with her tears, and foreseeing that she should never see him again. The poor little fellow embraced us all tenderly, and was car- ried off in a flood of tears." Mary. Ah 1 mamma, you did right to warn us that it was a very sad history. Mrs. M. The poor, heart-broken mother never looked up after the loss of her son. She would sit whole hours in silent despair, and her only consolation was to go to the leads of the tower; "because," says the princess, "my brother went there too from the other side. The only pleasure my mother enjoyed was seeing him through a chink as he passed at a distance. She would watch at the chink for hours together, to see the child as he passed. It was her only hope, her only thought. But this mournful satisfaction she was soon deprived of" About a month after the poor boy was taken away, she was roused from her bed at two o'clock one morn- ing by some commissioners, who ordered her to rise, teUing her that they were come to convey her to the Conciergerie, which was a place of confinement for prisoners of the lowest and most infamous description. The poor queen was obliged to rise and dress before these men, who searched her pockets, and took every thing «ut of them. They, however, allowed her, as a great favor, to retain her pocket-handkerchief and ner smelling-bottle, lest she should be faint by the way. She was scarcely suffered to take a hurried leave of her sister and daughter. As she waa passing through a low door-way, she struck her forehead, and one of the men asked her if she wa? hurt. Her reply was. " Nothing can hurt me now." On her arrival at the Conciergerie she was placed in a gloomy, damp cell, where she had not even t'ae comfort o\ enduring her sorrows alone. A police officer was stationeri in her cell night and day, who never lost sighl of her. The two princesses were now left sad and disconsolate in their tower. They were /cept in ignorance of the queen's condition, but knowmg how x^iuch she had always been accustomed 1o beifjilT her Rur/r.rirg ^^y work, they besought permission to S20 LOUIS XVI. LUhap. XXXVIIl. send her some materials They collected all the silks and worsted they could find, and also a pair of little stockings which she had begun to knit for the dauphin. But these things she was not permitted to have, under pretense that she might destroy herself with the knitting needles. The queen's industry, however, overcame all impediments. She found a piece of an old carpet in her cell, which she unravel- led, and by mean,s of two bits of wood she contrived to knit these ravelings into garters. In the mean time the poor dauphin was placed under the care of Simon, a creature of Robespierre. This man stripped the boy of the suit of mourning which had been given him for his father, and dressed him in a red cap and coarse jacket, such as was worn in France by the children of the poor. He made him drink intoxicating liquors, he taught him blasphe- mous oaths and revolutionary songs, and obliged him to repeal them at the windows, that he might be heard by the soldiers In short, no pains were spared to vitiate his character and destroy his health. In a few months, this lovely boy, who had been gifted by nature with an excellent constitution. became a miserable object, diseased and stupified by ill treat- ment. But still he must have retained a surprising degree of firmness for a child of his tender age, if the following anec- dote is true. It appears that his artful keepers had drawn from him some expressions, which they chose to interpret as impeaching the conduct of the queen and the princess Eliza- beth, and that they compelled him to sign a deposition against them. The prince was so excessively grieved at tho use thus made of his words, that he formed a resolution never to speak again ; and this resolution he persisted in for a length of time, although threats, and promises of fruit and toys, and every thing that could be most tempting to a child, were employed to make him break it. George. What a dear little fellow ! Mrs. M. On January 19, 1794, Simon, who had till then been his companion, left him, and the princess thus continues her narrative. " Unheard of, unexampled barbarity I to leave an unhappy and sickly child of eight years old in a great room locked and bolted. He had indeed a bell, which he never rung, so greatly did he fear the people whom its sound would have brought to him. He preferred wanting any thing and every thing to calling his persecutors. His bed was not stirred for six months, and he had not strength to make it himself For more than a year he had no change of Co^:v.J 1.0UIS XVI. 52i shirt or stockings. He might indeed have washed himself, for he had a pitchei of water, and migh: have kept himself cleaner than he did : but, overwhelmed hy the ill treatment he had received, he had not the resolution to do so, and hia illness began to deprive him of even the necessary sti'ength. He passed his days without any occupation, and in the even- ing was allowed no light. His situation affected his mind as well as his body." In this pitiable condition he continued to exist till the fcl- iowing November, when the arrival of two new jailers of more humane dispositions, brought an amelioration of his un- happy condition. Their first care was to procure him anoth- er bed, and one of them, named Garnier, would freqiiently sit with him whole hours trying to amuse him. The poor boy, who had long been unused to kindness, soon became very fond of him. But these attentions came too late to save the life of this innocent victim, although his disease, having to contend with a naturally strong constitution, made its way by very slow degrees, and he lingered till the following June. Ricliard. It is a great comfort to think that there was some person who was kind and good to him at the last. Mary. Will you just finish the story about the tvvo prin- cesses who were left in the tower ? and then I shall not want to know any thing more of that horrible Revolution. Mr&. M. They were suffered to remain in the same pris on to support and console each other, till May, 1794, when, as you have already been told, the princess Elizabeth was brought to her short trial, and was condemned and executed This princess, who is often called, "the saintlike Elizabeth," carried with her to the grave the same calm and dignified virtue which had always marked her life ; and that piety, which in her youth had been her staff in all the mazes of a frivolous court, was her firm support in the rugged path she had now to tread. In all the afflictions of her family, it was to her they always looked for support and consolation. She is described as having retained, under every exigency, a holy serenity of countenance and demeanor, which had more in it of heaven than of earth, and which on many occasions made the wretches who were loading the rest of the royal family with abuse, shrink from insulting her. " When condemned to death," says her niece, " she desired to be placed in the game room with the persons who were to suffer with her. She exhorted them with a presence of mind, an elevation of soul, and religious enthusiasm, which fortified all their minds Vi^ TH 2 REPUBLIC. [Chap. XXXIX In the cart v/liich convey&i her to the place of execution, she preserved the same firmness, and encouraged and supported the women who accompanied her. She Idssed them, and with her usual benignity said some words of comfort to each.'' In her last moments, as in the whole of her preceding life, she v»^as more occupied with the sorrows of others than with her own. After the death of her aunt, the young princess remained for six months the solitary tenant of her gloomy tower. When she first arrived at Vienna, her friends there used every endeavor to cheer her ; but her spirits were so completely depressed by all she had undergone, that it was more than a year before she was seen to smile ; and, indeed, I am told that the expression of melancholy has never been entirely effaced from her countenance. CHAPTER XXXIX. THE REPUBLIC. [Years after Christ, 1793-1805 ] TOWEK OF THE TeMPLK D^niN J the progress of these events in Paris, the duke of Brunswick, who aftcir taking Verdun and Longwy, had for a AD ir93.] THE REPUBLIC. 52S short tim"; continued to advance siowdy toward the capita], was compelled to retreat. His confident hope, that many ol the French would join his standard, had turned out to be utterly unfounded He found himself opposed, not, as he had expected, by a mere rabble, but by a disciplined army. Gen- eral Dumouriez had the command of this army. He, after forcing the duke to commence his retreat, retook Verdmi on the 12th, and Longwy on the ISth of October, 1792. An i^.ustrian army, also, which had commenced the siege of Lille v:as compelled to raise it. Spires and Worms were taken, and Mentz capitulated. On the 6th of November, Dumou- riez gained at Gemappe a victory which decided the fate of the Austrian Netherlands, the whole of which, with the ex- ception of Luxemburg, fell immediately into the hands of the French. War had been also declared against the king oi" Sardinia, and the French troops took possession of Savoy. On the 1st of February 1793, the convention declared war against England and Holland, and on the 7th of March against Spain. Dumouriez attacked Holland, and took Breda on the 24th of February, Klundert on the 26th, and Gertruy- denberg on the 4th of March. From this point he retreated, and his retreat exciting a suspicion that he had been brought over to act in concert with the allies, the convention sent commissioners to supersede and arrest him. Dumouriez him- self, however, arrested these commissioners, and sent them as prisoners to the Austrian general at Tournay ; to whose quar- ters he himself soon afterward made his escape, after vainly attempting to prevail on his army to take part with him against the convention. On the 4th of April, which was before Dumouriez left his army, and while he was still hoping to induce the troops to join with him, the prince of Saxe Co- burg, on the part of the allies, issued a declaration, that to restore a constitutional monarchy in France was the only ob- ject of the war, and that he absolutely disclaimed all inten- tion of conquest. He had the weakness, four days afterward, when the schemes of Dumouriez had miscarried, to revoke his declaration, and to say that he would not be bound by it. Conde and Valenciennes surrendered in July to the allied army under the command of the duke of York, and were taken possession of in the name of the emperor. The duke after- ward made an attack on Dunkirk, but failed, and in the lat- ter part of the year the French gained the ascendency in Flanders. On the Rhine, also, the French armies ujidei Hocbe and Pichegru, repulsed, after a most bloody campaign. 524 THfcJ REPUBLIC. [Chap X3 tlX the Prussians and Imperialists under Gei.cral Wurmser and the duke of Brunswick. Toulon submitted to an English fleet under Lord Hood, on condition that the town and ship- ping should be preserved as a deposit for Louis XVII. A mixed body of men, Neapolitans, English, and Spaniards, were brought into the town to defend it. But an army of the convention being sent to besiege it, and a fort which pro tected the town being taken by assault, it became necessary to abandon the place suddenly, and the most horrible confu- sion and destruction ensued. Of 31 ships found in the port by the English, 13 were left behind, 10 were burned, and they were able to extricate only three ships of the line and five frigates. In Paris, in the mean time, every day seemed to increase the vehemence of the factions by which the convention was distracted. The Jacobins at length usurped a tyrannical power, and every sympton of moderation fell before them, feome resistance to their usurpations was indeed madejn the provinces. Lyons, in particular, broke into open insurrection. This great city, after sustaining a siege for two months, was, on the 9th of October, compelled to surrender to the conven- tional troops, who disgraced their victory by horrid massa cres. In this year were also perpetrated the massacres of La Vendee. The inhabitants of that department, and of the neighboring districts, forming altogether a large portion of the ancient province of Poitou, with some adjoining parts of An- jou and Bretagne, were a people of simple and primitive habits, and strongly attached to the ancient system of govern- ment. In 1792, they made some efforts to raise an army for the purpose of restoring the royal authority. In the following year, almost the whole population rose en 9nasse with enthu- siasm. The country was intricate, and afforded every advant- age to the operations of an armed and active peasantry, who, though little able to encounter disciplined troops in the field, yet were extremely formidable in detached bodies, and in sudden incursions, carried on in their own country, and that a country full of hills and morasses. The relations which we possess of the events of this war in La Vendee have a great- er portion of romantic feeling connected with them than those of almost any other since the age of chivalry ; but the relent- less carnage is too horrible to be dwelt upon. The armies of ihe convention were at length completely successful ; and the barbarities almost exceed belief, which were inflicted on lh« A..D. ]7S)4.J THE REPUBLIC. 52S conquered party. One savage invention v^fhich xvas practiced at Nantes was t«j shut up a number of victims in the hold of a vessel, which w^as so constructed as to open suddenly and plunge into the water the persons contained in it. This was called the noyade, and was much approved of by the conven tion. An armament from England was sent to assist tho Vendeans, but it did not arrive on the coast till too late, and was obliged to return without attempting to land. I fear that in this short history I have akeady said too much of the atrocious crimes by which the Revolution was disgraced. Though much more remains, I will spai'e your feelings for the future. But that you may not fail to observe how closely crime and impiety are allied, I must here add that the convention, in the midst of its career of savage barbarity, attempted to extirpate also all regard to religion. On the lOth of November an edict was passed, declaring that the French nation "acknowledged no worship but that of univer- sal morahty, nor any other dogma but that of its own sover- eignty and omnipotence." To disunite, if possible, religious hope even from death, it is enacted in the same edict, that, "every citizen deceased, of whatsoever sect, shall be carried to the place destined for common interment covered with a funeral vail, on which shall be a picture of sleep. The com- mon place of burial shall be separate from ail dwellings, and planted with trees, under the shade of which shall be a statue representing sleep, and on the door of the inclosure shall be inscribed 'Death is an eternal sleejy.' " An attempt was made afterward to revive the Pagan games, processions, and idola- tries. The commune of Paris decreed that instead of pulpits, public tribunes should be erected, where republican principles should be preached ; and they celebrated in the cathedral of Paris a festival in honor of Reason, to whom, as to a deity, the building was now dedicated. Busts were erected to sev- eral infidels, and a woman of bad reputation was introduced in the person or character of the Goddess of Reason. This woman, in an arm-chair borne by four men, was carried with great parade to the convention. She was surrounded with oak garlands ; she was escorted by women in white robes, and attended by martial music ; the cap of liberty was placed upon her head; she was corered with a thin vail, and she leaned upon a pike. There was an harangue in her praise, and in honor of the ceremony ; she received the fraternal kiss from the president and secretaries of the convention, and a great i '.imbcr cf the members mixed with the mob, and re- ftSG THE KEPUBLIC. L^hap. XXXIX paired to the goddess's temple, to assist in tlie festival, and join in the hymn to liberty. So imnatural a state of feeling, ho we ver, could not long be pop\ilar. Tlie commune of Paris ordered the churches to be shut up ; but the convention found it necessary to annul the order. On this occasion even the infamous Robespierre made a speech, from which it would seem that he was not wholly destitute of all sense of religion. This daring republican, who had long been a prominent member, became, in 1794, the absolute ruler of the conven tion. Ambitious of power, and perhaps seeing that he would fall a victim to the ambition of others, if he did not himself obtain the mastery, he brought to trial on the 25th of March, in this year, not less than twenty of the Jacobin leaders, who were condemned and executed on the following day. On the 2d of April, he brought to trial nine more, and these also were all executed on the 5th. Robespierre himself, however, in this perilous career, soon appeared to have risen only to fall The members of the convention, each jealous of being the next sacrifice, united against him as in defense of their com- mon safety, made him their prisoner on the 28th of July, and had him executed in the course of the day. With him ended what has justly been termed the reign of terror. Councils more moderate, and men, who, if not of honester principles, were yet in nature or policy less bloody and detestable, arc now to take their place on the scene. The reign of terror had given an intense vigor to the war carrying on against the foreign enemies. Immense resources were placed in the power of the state by the confiscation of the property of the wretched victims of its tyranny ; and these were employed with the greatest activity by the intrepid officers who rose to command in the army, at a time when no man could be ambitious or commanding, who was not of the hardest and most decisive character. In the campaign of 1794, the French conquered all Flan ders, they overran the Palatinate, and took Treves. The' also took Coblentz, Venlo, and Maestricht, and obtained pos session of almost the whole frontiers of Holland. In Spaiu they took Fontarabia, and St. Sebastian, and other places, which laid entirely open to them the provinces of Navarre and Catalonia. During the following winter a frost of un- common severity enabled them to cross the Waal on the ice, and to advance rapidly into the very heart of the Dutch ter litories, without encountering any eflcctual opposition. Th*j^ \.D. 1705.1 THE REPUBLIC. W7 took possession of Amsterdam, Jan 16, 1795. The fleet and shipping were fixed by the intense frost, and fell an unresist- ing prey. There are several points of comparison between this conquest of Holland and that which was effected by the arms of Lou'.s XIV., but this was incomparably the most rapid and complete. The stadtholder and his family fled to England ; and Holland, from this time till the end of the wars of the Revolution, became an absolute dependency on France. On the 1st of June, 1794, lord Howe engaged the I'rench fleet off Ushant, and after a severe action took seven sail of the line. Twc sail were sunk. Scarcely any attempt was made after this defeat to contest with England the empire ol the sea. Many of the French seamen were marched off to join the armies, and the marine fell, of course, into cornpara tive neglect. All the French West India islands were cap- tured by England, with the exception of a part of Guadaloupe. The Corsicans, also, being much dissatisfied with the new government, made the veteran Paoli once more their general- issimo, and with the assistance of an English force expelled the French from their island. In 1795 peace was made with Prussia and Spain, France restoring to Spain her original frontier on the river Bidassoa. and Spain ceding in return the Spanish portion of St. Do- mingo. In the following year Spain returned to her old pol- icy of an alliance ofl^ensive and defensive with France, and of course, took part with France in the war. In June, 1795, an attempt v/as made by the emigrants U renew the unhappy war in La Vendee, where neAv commo- tions had been attempted, and the inhabitants were known to De m a very discontented state. The emigrant army, under tlie escort of an English squadron, disembarked in the bay of Quiberon, in the end of June, and Avas joined by many. of the insurgents, who, from the nature of the hostility which alone they had been able of late to carry on, had often the title given them of Chouans, or iiiglit otvls. The republican troops, however, soon repulsed the invaders, and almost ab perished who were not able to re-embark. The military operations of this year on the side of Ger many were not of importance enough to make it necessary that I should relate them to you in this brief sketch of g* eventful a war. The national convention, after many convulsions of party, and some sanguinary engagements with the opposing factions, SS3 THE KEPUB.LIC. [CHAf. XXXIX temiinated, Oct. 27, 1795, its disgraceful career. A nev/ constitution succeeded, by which the legislature was divided into two assemblies. The one of these was called the council of the ancients, and consisted of 250 members, all of whom were at least to be forty years old. The other assembly was called the council of the five hundred. The council of the five hundred alone could propose any laws. The council of the ancients might either reject or accept, but could not alter, any decrees which might pass the five hundred. The execu- tive power was placed in the hands of a directory, consisting of five members, of whom it was appointed that one member should go out every year. Barras, Carnot, Rewbell, Reveil- lere Lepaux, and Letourneur were the first members. Sieyes had been elected, but though he became a member afterward, he was too prudent, at this critical time, to venture to accept any station of power. In the spring of 1796, tlii'ee great armies took the field : the army of the Sambre and Meuse, under general Jourdan ; the army of the Rhine and Moselle, under Moreau ; and the army of Italy, of v/hich the command was given to Bona- parte, a native of Corsica, and a godson of Paoli. Bonaparte had distinguished himself at the capture of Toulon from the English, and had afterward been brought forward by the di- rector Barras. The campaign in Italy raised at once this ex- traordinaiy man to great distinction. He annexed Savoy to France ; ,he defeated the Austrians at Lodi, where he storm- jd their position on the bridge over the Adda, which was so strongly defended that even his own officers thought it im- pregnable ; and at length established the French ascendency throughout Italy. Many of the states were compelled to purchase an armistice, by sacrificing the finest paintings or statues with which their palaces and museums were stored. These were ^:)wi in reqvAsition, as was the plu-ase, by order of the convention, and were transported to Paris, where, for a period of nearly twenty years, they formed a most splendid and attractive ornament of that triumphant metropolis. Mantua alone held out for the imperialists. In Germany, Moreau and Jourdan, combining their opera- lions, compelled the archdulce Charles, the Austrian general, after a hardly-contested campaign, to retreat, and to cross the Neckar and Danube. The minor states of the empire, and even the diet at E-alisbon, were compelled to solicit peEice with the republic. England and the emperor were ihe only powers which still cci.tinued the contest A.D 1797.) THE REPUBLIC. 5'-':) liut the archduke Cliarles, in this onergeucy, exerted bim- seif with great and firm resolution. He first repulsed Jour- dan, and then menaced Moreau, to whom Bonaparte, who was detained in Italy by the siege of Mantua, and by the atternpts uf the Austrians to recover their interests in that quarter, wab wholly unable to send assistance. Moreau. however, extiicated himself, and effected a retreat into France, which has httix greatly celebrated for the ability with which he conducted it. In the end cf this year, an ill-concerted expedition was dispatched from i'rance for the invasion of Ireland. General Hoche commanded, and 25,000 men were embarked. They reached Bantry Bay, but returned to Brest, without making any attempt to land. This expedition having failed, the di- rectory was at a groxt loss how to dispose of some of the troops embarked in it, many of whom had been permitted to enter the service after having been condemned for their crimes to the galleys. These troops could not be remanded to the galleys ; they could not prudently be restored to liberty ; they could not be drafted into the other armies of the repub- lic, because soldiers of the better classes would not serve with them. In this perplexity they were again embarked on a new expedition ; and this nothing less than the invasion of Great Britain itself They were landed at Fisguard m Wales on the 23d of Februarj^ 1797, and were made prison- ers the same evening without opposition. Mantua capitnlated Feb. 2, 1797, and Italy soon afte^ was reduced to quiet submission, and even to tolerate the plunder of the chapel of Loretto, whence the famous image of the Virgin was taken and sent to Paris. Italy being sub- dued, Bonaparte marched along the Adriatic, took Gradisca on the 19th of March, and Trieste on the 23d. Thence ad- vancing rapidly, he passed the defiles of the Alpine country which protects the Italian frontier of Germany, and alarmed the Austrians for the safety of Vienna. Under these circum- stances a negotiation was entered into, and a peace eventual- ly concluded with the emperor, by the treaty of Campo For- niio, on the 17th of October. France by this treaty retained the Austrian Netherlands. Milan, Mantua, Modena, Fer- rara, and Bologna were formed into a mere dependency on France, and entitled the Cisalpine republic. The Venetian islands, Corfu, Zante, and their dependencies were also sur- rendered to Franne : but the emperor was put in possession cf Veu'ce, and of its territory on both sides of the gulf, in- Z 5-30 THE REPUBLIC. [Chi?. XXXIX' eluding Dalmatia, and reacliing as far as thel/ake di. Garda. Genoa was converted into a Ligurian republic soon after ward. Early in 1798, the French took possession of Rome, and deposed the pope. At the same time they also invaded Switzerland, though Switzerland had observed the most sin- cere neutrality in the doubtful contest which had been lately closed in Germany. The war with Switzerland could not last long The hardy mountaineers of the smaller cantons made a brief but desperate struggle for their independence. But they were soon subdued by superior numbers and skill, and a new constitution was forced on them after the model of France. England was now the only enemy of the republic. In August, this year, a small body of troops was dispatched from France into Ireland, in order to ibment a rebellioi' which was raging in that distracted island. This body, however, was soon compelled to surrender. To attack England in her vast ( iminions in the East In dies was a chief object of the dir*;tory. This appears at least to have been the ostensible design of an expedition which was dispatched to Eg3rpt in June, 1798, under the command of Bonaparte. The possession of that country might afford an access to India, which a power decidedly in- ferior at sea could not hope for in the long passage round the Cape. Some suppose, however, that the real motive of the expedition was to rid the directory of Bonaparte and his army, by sending them on this doubtful adventure. Nothing can be more likely than that the character of that general had already disclosed to those who were best acquainted with him a towering ambition, which would never be satisfied as long as there remained a greater than himself. Be this as it may, Bonaparte embarked at Toulon witl 40,000 of his veteran troops. In his way to Egypt he ob tained possession of Malta, which, it is supposed, was betrayed to him by the knights. He then sailed for Alexandria : he landed, and took the city by storm on the 5th of July. His luck in getting there without being intercepted by the English lleet is very remarkable. The French marine had never re- covered its defeat in the action of June 1st, 1794, and had! indeed also suffered subsequent losses. The allied fleet of Spain had been defeated on its way to Brest, in an engage- ment fought on the 14th of February, 1797 ; and the Dutcl also, whoso whole power had now joined the republic. haviP prisoners the higher and middling ranks were mostiv 636 THE EEPUBLIC. [Chap. XXXiA sent to Verdun, where they were allowed to Le on their parolfc. Some few oiEcers made their escape, aiid got home ; hut the English government refused to employ them again, on account of their having broken their parole. It must be allowed that their case was exceedingly hard, especially since it differed from a common case of captivity, as being one in which they v/ere almost hopeless of liberation. In ordinary circumstances, a prisoner of war may always expect to be soon exchanged ; but these d'etemis were not prisoners of war ; and the English government, which denied the justice of their seizure, would not recognize it by consenting to give French prisoners in ex- change. Nothing, however, can justify a breach of parole : when a man's word is once given, no consideration should in- duce him to break it. The practice also of allowing prisoners to be at large on giving their word that they will not attempt to escape, is so material an alleviation of captivity, that I hardly know how any man can do more injury to his fellow- creatures than by acting so as to discourage it. In the months of May and June the French armies entered Hanover, and took possession of it with but little resistance. 7\t the same time England was again menaced with invasion. But the extraordinary events of the new war which was thus begun, to which, if we consider not only the vast armies in motion, but also the skill with which they were guided, there is, 1 believe, no parallel in the anuals of the world, will more properly belong to the ensuing chapter. I shall here only add, that on May 3, 1804, a decree waa passed creating Bonaparte " emperor of the French," and in- vesting him in that capacity with the government of the French republic. By this decree, also, the imperial title and power was made hereditary in his family. His coronation took place November 19, pope Pius VII. performing the cer- fmony of crowiring him. On the 4th of Februaiy, 1805, the new emperor addressed a second letter to the king of England, in which he urged him to put an end to the war. Whether or no it would have been wise to have answered this letter ,'miicably is a question which I can not presume to decide. The letter itself was very wordy and pompous, and did not bear any internal marks of sincerity. On May 26, the empe- ror was crowned at Milan king of Italy. Genoa was \inited to the empire a few days afterward. OOMT.] THE REPVJBLIC. 53T CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XXXIX. ROBKSPIXRKE AKD DaNTON. Richard. Was Robespierre a clever as well as a very wicked man? Mrs. Markham. I believe he was a man of no extraordi- nary talents ; unless, indeed, we may account as a talent the art which he possessed of enticing others to crimes, of which he generally contrived to reap the benefit. He began the world as a lawyer, but was an indifferent orator, and attained no eminence in his profession. Early in the Revolution he made himself conspicuous as a vehement member of the Jacobin party, and appeared to be actuated by a personal animosity against the king, and perseveringly aimed at hia destruction. Mary. Had the king done him any injury ? Mrs. M. The king never intentionally injured any one. Robespierre's own republican principles appear to have been the first, and his ambition to be a dictator the second cause of his enmity. Robespierre's chief political rival was Danton, and these two men, apparent friends, but secret enemies, were, while professing indivisible fraternity, endeavoring to compass each other's destruction. At last the superior cun ning of Robespierre prevailed, and the ferocious Danton was guillotined. George. It is a comfort to think that Robespierre was nol long after him. Mrs. M. ^Vheu Robespierre was seized, he endeavored to shoot himself, but he only shattered his jaw. In tha^ 5b ■ THE REPUBLIC. [Chap. XXXIX m >!r,«;led condition he was placed in the cart, and carried to thv place of execution amidst the shouts and exultations of tha populace, who were frantic with joy at the downfall of tlie tyrant. The women, ^ho in all the popular tumults in France acted a very conspicuous part, danced hke insane .sreatures round the procession. When he arrived at the fccaffold he was more dead than alive ; hut on the execu- tioner's roughly pulling off a bandage, which had been hasti- ly put on his wound, he uttered a horrible shriek ; and it is said that of all the executions which were at that time wit- nessed at Paris, Robespierre's presented the most appalling spectacle. Richard. It is surprising to me how executioners enough could be found for such a great number of people. Mr'i- M. And your surprise will be increased, when I tell you that all those executions were performed by two individ uals only, of the name of Sampson. These persons, who were brothers, shed the blood of Louis XVI., of Marie An- toinette, of E-obespierre, and his faction, vsdth equal unconcern. They are described as having been little less of machines than the guillotine itself; and so that there was but a head to be cut off, it mattered not to them whose it was. M.ary. Why was that machine for cutting off heads called a guillotine ? M/rs: M. It obtained its name from one of the most harm- less and benevolent of men, a physician of the name of Guil lotine, a member of the national assembly, who, on some question relating to the amelioration of the penal code, had recommended the use of a decapitating machine, as a more merciful kind of death than that by the gaUows. George. Poor man ! how he must have hated his own tiame ! Mrs. M. When Guillotine saw the horrible use made of his invention, he was overwhelmed with grief, and withdrew in disgust from public life. He afterward confined himself to the duties of his profession, in which he arrived at great eminence. I know not when he died. He was alive in 1811. Mary. Pray, mamma, can you remember the French Revolution ? Mrs. M. I can recollect of its being the constant topic of conversation, although I was then too young to be able tc form any very distinct ideas on the subject. I t"»n also jec- sUect the hearing accounts read 'n the newsp'"w<5rs of the CoHT.l' THE REPUBLIC. 5L"j dreadful atiocities taking place in France, which used to "curdle my young blood with horror." On my first visit to London, I also saw a great number of French emigrants, who had found refuge ther^e. Mary. Did they seem very unhappy ? Mrs. M. They seemed unhappy when you saw them, in forlorn and melancholy groups, perambulating, as was their custom, the sunny sides of the streets. But, in company, the buoyancy of their national character commonly enabled them to cast ofF for the moment the load of their afflictions, and they would be not only cheerful but even gay. And although, in general, we must blame their abandonment of their coun- try, yet there were many instances, especially in the advanced stages of the Revolution, in which it was a necessary meas- ure of self-preservation : nor was it possible to forbear feeling respect and admiration for persons situated as they had been, who could, support, with a contentedness which was often truly dignified, the loss of wealth, rank, country, and consid- eration. Ridmrd. How did they get money to live on 1 Mrs. M. Some few brought with them money or jewels Others were thrown on the benevolence of the English, and very many exerted a praiseworthy industay, and preferred the maintaining themselves by their own labor to a dependence on the liberality of others, George. That was much wiser than if they had sat still doing nothing but lamenting their misfortunes. . Mrs. M. The French exiles had an illustrious example of industry and exertion in the young duke of Orleans,* who, after his father's death, took refuge in Switzerland. He there assumed the name of M. Corby, and maintained himself for more than a year by becoming the m?,thematical teacher in a school. Mary. I do not at all compreheri how the affairs of France could be carried on by such a set of governors as those republicans. Mrs. M. I can not show you a more forcible picture of the spirit by which those governors were actuated than by reading to you a letter from Fouche, then cne of the members of the committee of pubhc safety, to his friend and colleague, Collot d'Herbois. This letter was written at the time of the /ictory which was gained by the republicans ovir the royalist* ftt l^ouloii * Afterward king Lou s Philippe. »iQ THE REPUBLIC. l^hai-. XXXI * " Tonlon, S8tli of Frimaire, "Year 2 of the Republic, one and indivisible. " The war is at an end, if we know how to avail ourselves of this memorable victory. Let ns be terrible that we may not be in danger of being weak or cruel. Let us destroy in our wrath, and at one blow, all rebels, conspirators, and trai- tors, to spare ourselves the anguish, the tedious misery of pun- ishing them as kings. Let us avenge ourselves as a people, let us strike like the thunder-bolt, and annihilate even the ashes of our enemies, that they may not pollute the soil of liberty. "May the perfidious English be attacked in all direc tions : may the whole republic form but one volcano to over- whelm them with its devouring lava ! May the infamous isle, which produced these monsters, whom humanity disowns, be ingulfed forever in the depths of ocean ! Adieu ! my friend : tears of joy gush from my eyes, and inundate my soul. " FOUCHE. " P. S., We have only one way of celebrating the victory This evening we send two hundred and thirteen rebels to meet death amidst the thunder of our guns " Richard. We English are exceedingly obliged to M Fouche for his kind wishes toward us. Mrs. M. And you may rest assured that the vehement passions of the republicans did not exhaust themselves on the aristocrats alone. Almost all the chief promoters of the Rev- olution fell a sacrifice, sooner or later to its fury ; and the insatiable guillotine had almost a daily tribute from the mem- bers of all the different factions, who were struggling with each other for the mastery. Mary. Well, for my part, I think that those poor French who could get to England were very right to stay here. It is quite a pleasure to think that our dear nice little island was such a comfortable place of refuge for them. Mrs. M. When Louis XVIII. came to England, he landed at Yarmouth, and was rowed on shore by a boat's crew belonging to the Majestic, an EngUsh man-of-war. On quitting the boat, the king (who, I should tell you traveled under the name of the comte de Lille) left a purse containing fifteen guineas to be distributed among the crew. It is said that the tars refused the money, and sent it with the followijyj letter to their admiral. CoKT.l THE REPl^BLIO 54J " H.M.S. Majestic, N:i?. 6, 1807. " May it please your worship, " We holded a talk about that there money that was sent us, and, hope no offense, your honor, we don't like to take it, because as how we knows fast enuff that it was the true king of France that went with your honor in the boat, and that he and our own noble king, God bless 'era both, and give every one his right, is good friends now. And besides that, your honor gived an order long ago, not to take any mone) from nobody, and. we never did take none. And Mr. Leneve that steered your honor and that there king, says he won'< have no hand in it, and so does Andrew Young, the propei coxen, and he hopes no offense. — So we all, one and f.11, hegt not to take it at all, so no more from your honor's dutiful servants." The letter was signed by ten of the crew. George. Hurrah I for the jolly tars ! I Iw^e the story h true, for the honor of the British navy. J^/LtS. iVf. " I can not tell how the truth may be : I say the tale as 'twas said to me." Before we dismiss from our memories Louis XVI. " ant. his times," it will not be uninteresting to take a review ol some of the most remarkable changes in maimers which took place in France during his reign. In the earliest part of it, the whole style of fashionable society was frivolous in the ex treme, and nothing was thought of but amusements. Tc dress, to act, to sing, to dance, were the sole business of life, and to make complimentary speeches, epigrams, and extern porary verses, was, if we may credit the picture which mad ame de Genlis has dravra. of Parisian society, the highest and most desired stretch of intellect among the wits and men of fashion of the day. All at once a revolution was wrought in these follies, and an entirely opposite system came in. Mary. And who was it who set the new fashion ? Mrs. 31. Benjamin Franklin, the bookseller of Philadel- phia, who, I dare say, would have been the very last person to intend it. Wiren FrankHn came to Paris as one of the American deputies, the simplicity of his dress turned the heads of the ladies, and altered the coats of the gentlemen. The gold lace and embroidery, and the powdered curls, which had been the pride of the Parisian beaux, were all discarded. The fine gentlemen appeared with their hair cut straight, and in plain brovra coats, hke this sober republican's. Count Segur speaks, in his Memoirs, of the ar-B'val of the deputies. 542 THE REPUBLIC. [Chap. XXXIX and sajs, " It was as if the sages of Rome and Greece had suddenly appeared ; tlieir antique simplicity of dress, their firm and plain demeanor, their free and direct language, formed a contrast to the frivolity, effeminacy, and servile ro finements of tht French. The tide of fashion and nobility ran after these republicans, and ladies, lords, and men of let- ters, all worshiped them." At a splendid entertainment given to these Americans, the countess Diana de Polignac, one of the beaux esprits of the court, advanced to doctor Franklin, and assuming a theatrical attitude, placed a crown (a crown of laurel, if I mistake not) on his head. Richard. How much the doctor must have been aston ished I Mrs. M. This adciiration of the Americans led, by a* somewhat singular transition, to an admiration of every thing that was English ; and at the beginning of the Revolution the Anglo-mania was carried to a ridiculous excess. Societies were instituted in imitation of the clubs in England, and these were mainly instrumental in assisting the projects of the revolutionists. Hence, too, another great change in Parisian society. The gentlemen deserted the evening parties, and little suppers of the ladies, and went instead to the clubs, ifec, &c. In the belief also that they were minutely follow- ing the English customs, they carried cudgels in their hands, wore thick shoes, and did all they could to look like black- guard.'. Richard. That vi^as not very flattering to the English. Mrs. M. As the Revolution proceeded, the Frft.:/- had neither time, nor, as it should seem, inclination, to adopt any new affectation, or foreign fashion. Society was for a time annihilated. The awful precipice on which every one stood appeared to have changed the national character, and gave it an unnatural gravity. But when the worst tyrannies of the Revolution subsided, and Danton, Robespierre, and the guil- lotine no longer kept the people in dismay, they seemed to awaken as if from a frightful dream, and gave way to the most vehement excesses of gayety. The women especially, many of whom had exhibited an heroic greatness of mind during the late horrible scenes, now indemnified themselves for the self-control they had exercised, by plunging into E^n in- eonceivable dissipation. By the emigration of the nobles, the wealth of the natioii was flowing in new channels. Paris was inundated by par- venus, rich people of mean birth and sudden elevation. 'by CoNT ] THE KKPUI3LIC. 543 swinHers and all kinds of low adventurers ; and it was not till the reign of Bonaparte that society appeared to recover materially from the shock which it had sustained during the late violent convulsions. Bonaparte, even before he ventured to confer titles of his own, did all he could to restore decorum and manners in a court which he must have seen to be de- graded by the want of it ; and it was observed that from thia first dawn of encouragement, elegance of manners and purity of speech resumed their natural superiority, and stood in the place of titular dignities. Mary. Pray, mamma, did the ladies as well as the gen- tlemen try to make themselves like the English ? Mrs. M. I do not recollect that the ladies ever yielded to the English mania sufficiently to adopt our fashions. Never- theless, the revolutions in female dress were as extraordinary in their way as the other more important revolutions of this period. In the beginning of the reign of Louis XVI., hoops and paint were still worn. The hair was loaded with poma- tum and powder, and drawn up into extraordinary high pyra- mids. I have seen caricatures of hair-dressers mounted on ladders, dressing the ladies' heads. It was all in vain, how- ever, that caricaturists and satirists leveled their ridicule against these enormous piles. They continued to rise higher and higher, till a violent illness of the queen, which caused her to lose her hair, occasioned their downfall. On a sudden, and as if with one consent, every lady in France was seen with a flat head. The next great change of fashion was wrought by the philosopher St. Pierre, who, in his novel of Paul et Virginie, has described Virginie as attired in a simple robe of white muslin and a plain straw hat. This simple picture instantly captivated the ]adies of Paris. The silks, satins, and formal dress which had reigned with different modifications almost from the time of St. Louis, now all vanished, as beneath the stroke of a necromancer, and noth- ing was to be seen, from the queen to the waiting-maid, but white muslin gowns and straw hats. When the Bevolution was commencing, and the rage for liberty introduced an ad- miration of the ancient republics, the ladies dressed their heads in imitation of antique busts, and endeavored to copy the light and scanty draperies of ancient statues. While the ladies were thus attired in the Greek fashion, the gentlemen kept them in countenance by cropping their hair in the Roman fashion. This antique mode, with varialious, lasted several ye-^r* An end was at lengtl* put ^ it bv the ap- S44 THE REPUBLIC. [CHiP. XXXIX pearance on tlie stage of a favorite actress in the charactei of a Chinese ^ir], dressed according to the idea she had fomc ed of the costume of China, with her petticoats loaded with frUls. The novelty of these frills again enchanted the Paris- ians, who soon muffled themselves up with frills and ru3s. The fashion found its way also into England, though many EngUsh ladies were, I dare say, quite unconscious that thej were dressing themselves in the French Chinese fashion. George. I never used to think the fashions of dress worth troubling my head about ; but I now see that it is very amus- ing to observe what a weathercock fashion is, and what trifles can turn it. Mrs. M. Among other changes of fashion, I must not forget to notice that which took place in the hour of dining. At the beginning of the reign, the fashionable dinner hour in Paris was two o'clock ; afterward it was five or six o'clock-- a great change from the wholesome practice of the time of Francis I., when the rule of life was as follows :— To rise at five, and dine at nine, To sup at five, and sleep at nine, Will make you live till you're ninety-nine,* ' Lever a cinq, diner a nenf, Soapcr a cinq, coacher tk nent, Fait rirre d'xao noasnt at seiisf. CHAPTER XL. NAPOLEON, f Years after Christ, 1805— .3 Napoleon Bonaparte. The contest with England, as you were told in ths ksl chapter, recommenced in 1803. E-ussia and Austria again coalesced with that power. Napoleon, with his character- istic impetuosity, burst into Germany in the beginning of October, 1805. Wurtemberg, Baden, and Bavaria, joined their forces to his, and the duke of Wurtemberg and the elector of Bavaria were rewaided by his conferring on them the title of king Ulm surrendered on the 17th of October. November 13, the French army entered Vienna. On the 2d of December was fought the great battle of Austerlitz, which ended in the complete defeat of the Russians and Aus- trians, and enabled the French emperor to dictate a peace with Austria. By the terms of this peace, which was dated at Presburg, December the 26th, the title of the emperor Na- poleon was recognized, together with the titles of the newly made kings of Bavaria and AVurtemberg. Venice was ceded to Bonaparte as king of Italy. The emperor of Russia with drew his troops into h\s own territories. The king of Prussia 54C NAPOLEON L'^hap. XL who liad. remained neutral in this contest, .'received Haiiovei as the reward of his neutrality ; or, as is most probable, that electorate was conferred on him for the purpose of placingr his 'nterests in opposition to those of the king of England, who, it •wuld not be doubted, woi;ld seize the first opportunity of re- claiming his ancient inheritance. Thus rapidly was this coahtion dissolved in a short cam- paign, which proved universally successful, except on that ele- ment where the power of England still reigned without a rival. On February the 7 th, a French squadron in the West In- dies was defeated by the English admiral Duckworth. Of eight sail of the line, three were taken and two burnt. On the 21st of October the combined fleets of France and Spain were defeated off Cape Trafalgar by lord Nelson. Nineteen sail of the line fell into the hands of the victors, most of which, however, in consequence of bad v/eather coming on, went oa shore, and v^ere destroyed after the action. The English lost also in this great battle their gallant Nelson, whose death embittered all that natural exultation with which they would else have regarded their naval triumph. On March 30, 1806, Joseph Bonaparte, one of the brothers of Napoleon, was declared king of the Two Sicilies. June the 5th Louis Bonaparte was made king of Holland. Dal- matia, Istria, Friuli, and other districts, were erected into duchies and great fiefs of the French empire, and bestowed on the most distinguished generals, and on other persons emi- nent for their public services. Fourteen princes also of the south and west of Germany united themselves into what was called the Confederation of the Rhine, and placed themselves under the protection of Napoleon. . Thus finally terminated, after having lasted so many ages, the existence of what is properly called the Germanic empire. Francis II. renounced by proclamation the title of emperor of Germany, and as- sumed that of emperor of Austria in its stead. This perpetual aggrandizement of the French power and mflucnce could not but give great alarm to Prussia and Aus- tria. Austria was still una?)le to rise from the bloAV inflicted at Austerlitz ; but Prussia, which had been then too much alarmed by the rapid progress of the French arms in Germany to dare to break lier neutrality, now entered into a league with Russia, and took arms. Napoleon instantly set his troops in motion. On October 14, 1806, he gained over the Prussians a decisive victory at Jena. On the 27th he en- tiiiedi Berlin. Hence ho marched soon afterward against th9 ^.D. UU7.} NAPOLEON. 547 tlnssian armies m Poland. There, too, he was successful, after a longer and harder contest, defeating them at Eylau on the 8th of February, 1807, and at Friedland on the 14th of June. The emperor Alexander then entered into negotia- tions, and a peace was concluded at Tilsit, July 7. By the terms of this peace the king of Prussia was stripped of almost half his dominions. These spoils of Prussia were given to Saxony and Westphalia, two new kingdoms now created by Napoleon. In the electorate of Saxony the elector was made king, and Prussian Poland was added to his dominions. Je rome Bonaparte was made king of Westphaha. Every po-wer of the continent that had dared to resist the arms of France was at this time humbled by repeated defeats. England alone remained inaccessible. The invasion of that country was a favorite project of Bonaparte, but a project Kiuch too dangerous to be attempted without first acquiring a great maritime power ; and in the actual state of the French empire and its dependencies, which could not muster any \diere one formidable fleet, the hope of disputing the com- mand of the seas with England seemed so remote as to baffle all expectation. To attack the commerce of that proud island with the continent appeared to be the only method left of weakening its power. With this view Bonaparte now estab- lished a system, which has been commonly called the conti- nental blockade. Russia and .Denmark took part with him in this policy, which required them to break oft" all communi- cation with England ; and at length those powers joined France openly in the war. This was the moment of Napo- leon's greatest ascendency. But from this moment opens also a new scene of events, which must necessarily withdraw our attention for a short time from the politics of the northern powers of Europe. Napoleon, in concert with Charles IV., king of Spain, sent an army under marcchal Junot to invade Portugal. The prince regent of Portugal embarked and sailed for Brazil, and the French troops took possession of Lisbon, Nov. 30, 1807. In the following year the king of Spain himself was prevailed on to resign his crown to. the French emperor, who placed on the throne his brother Joseph, king of Naples, and advanced Murat, one of his marshals, to the crown of Naples, in Jo- seph's room. Both Charles IV. and his son Ferdinand, the prince of Asturias, were brought to France. Charles IV. waa sent to Compei|rne, and Ferdinand was detained in the castio of Valenf ay. 548 NAPOLEON |Cuap XL The Spaniards, indignant at the insult ofiered to theii country by thus elevating a foreigrier to tlie throne, roused with enthusiasm to repel the intrusion. A provincial junta was held at Seville, in May, 1808, in which the prince of Asturias, though detained a prisoner in France, was acknowl- edged king. In Portugal also arose a similar resistance. An EngUsh army, under the command of Sir Arthur Wellesley, afterward marquis and duke of Wellington, was promptly dispatched to assist these struggles in the Peninsula. Junot was compelled to evacuate Portugal, and nearly at the same time king Joseph quitted Madrid, In November, 1808, how- ever, Napoleon himself entered Spain, and soon made himself master of the greater part of the country. Madrid submitted to him December 4. But notwithstanding the success with which the French arms seemed to be thixs every where crowned, still the resist- ance which they had met with ia Spain, and perhaps still more the open injustice of the aggression on so old and faith- ful an ally, once more awakened the slumbering spirit of the other powers of the continent. The pope had been long dis- satisfied. The commercial interests of the whole of Europe were alinost ruined by the effect of those decrees which pre- cluded, or at least extremely embarras.'sed, the trade with England ; and the emperor of Austria was impatient under his past losses, and eager to redeem them. In the spring of 1809 the Tyrol revolted. The Westphalians expelled king Jerome from his new dominions, and it was believed that Prussia, notwithstanding the smart of her late misfortunes, would be glad to take advantage of the first reverses of Napo- leon to join her forces to those of the Austrians. But the French emperor returnmg instantly from Madrid, crossed the Rhine, and penetrated into the heart of Germany. He gained successive victories at Eckmuhl and Essling ; he a second time took possession of Vienna ; and though worsted in an ob- stinate battle at Asperne, he a short time afterward conquered at Wagram. He then dictated a peace, called the peace of Vienna, which was signed Oct. 14, 1809. The continent was now again prostrate at the feet of Na- poleon. The Tyrol was given up to devastation ; the pope was dethroned ; Bernadotte, a French general, was elected Euccessor to the throne of Sweden ; and Louis, king of ILol- land, although brother to the French emperor, yet b ing thought to allow of a freer intercourse with England than the jealousy of Napoleon would tolerate, was dispossessed oi hJ^ A.U. 1812.) NAPOLEON. S49 kingdom, and the Dutch territories were incorporated with France. Now also Napoleon allied himself by marriage with the most ancient and illustrious house in Europe. He di- vorced the empress Josephine, to whom he had been married many years, and to whom he is supposed to have been sin- cerely attached, and was united to Maria Louisa, archduchess of Austria, a daughter of the emperor Francis II. The mar- riage ceremony, in which the archduke Charles was Napo- leon's proxy, was performed at Vienna, March 11, 1810. In the following year the empress had a son,* born March 20, 10 whom was given the title of the king of Rome. Amid these transactions, a new war was preparing, of which the alternations were more rapid, and the events on a vaster scale, than any which had yet been witnessed in Eu- rope. The emperor of Russia, though, during the French campaign against Austria, which was concluded in 1809 by the battle of Wagram, he maintained the alliance which he had contracted at Tilsit, repented of a policy which appeared daily to add new strength to the overbearing power of France. In the end of 1810, he renewed his intercourse with England ; and during that year and the following, both he and Napoleon prepared for a contest which was destined to exhibit a most remarkable example both of the un calculating folly into which an unprincipled ambition betrays the most powerful and penetrating miderstandings, and of the signal reverses which such an ambition is commonly doomed to experience. On March 9, 1812, Napoleon left Paris to commence his northern campaign. He staid some time at Dresden, the capital of the king of Saxony. Austria and Prussia, and all the other states of Germany were his allies, or rather his de- pendents. On June 22d, he arrived on the banks of the Nie- men. He here issued a proclamation, in which he declared war against Russia. He crossed the Niemen on the 23d of the same month. June 28th, he took possession of Wilna. On the 27th of July he arrived at Witepsk. Smolensk, after sustaining a vigorous attack, was abandoned to him on the 17th of August. On the 7th of September, he engaged in a great battle with the Russian army, under marechal Kutusoff, near Borodino, a village in the immediate neighborhood of Moscow. This battle was indecisive, though on both sides * Francis Cliavles Joseph Napoleon, afterward created duke of Reich stadt by the emperor of Austria. He is said to have been of an extremely cngaeing: and promising character, but died of a consumption in 1834. His «ioil jr, on hei husband's fall, was made duchess of Panna. .'50 NArOLi:ON. LChaf Xh the carnage was dreadful. The Russians remained m possesi* BJon of the field of battle : but KutusofF, a few days afterward, thought it expedient to retreat, and rather to abandon Mos- cow to its fate than to risk the farther weakening of his army in another conflict. It was the Russian policy, indeedj to re tire before the enemy, and, allowing him to advance as far as possible into the:r territories, then to close on him, and cut ofi his retreat. Had Napoleon been wise, he would have avoid- ed this danger. But it appeared to be his maxim that he must always keep advancing. He undoubtedly was conscious that his love of war, and his ambition, had not done any thing for the real happiness of France, and consequently, that he wanted the best foundation on which a sovereign's powei may be established. His only substitute was to continue tc dazzle the world Avith a perpetual series of vast enterprises, and of success. He was also so much intoxicated with past triumphs, as to despise all obstacles which might rise in his way, and even to make a sort of divinity of his own fortune. what is most remarkable of all is, that in this dangerous en- terprise he still preserved an almost unlimited influence over his whole army. This was not because either the officers or the troops were blind to their dangers. It is well known that they saw their dangers to be both clear and inevitable, and even that they felt themselves led to almost certain destruc- tion. But their habits of obedience to their great general, their absolute idolatry of him as the military genius of France, in whom all their own greatness was, as it were, expressed and embodied, together with the kindness of his manner to indi- vidual soldiers, gave him an unexampled influence even over their murmurs and despair. On the 14th of September, the French army entered Mos cow. From this moment we may date the history of its de- struction. Count Bostopchin, the Russian governor, on quit- ting the city, had caused it to be set on fire in several places The French troops in their first triumphs of taking possession were thrown into consternation by this unexpected event, and were at the same time too intent on phmder to exert them- selves efiectually to arrest the progress of the flames, which, by the morning of the ICth, prevailed in every direction. Nothing can be more dreadful than the accounts which we possess of the ravage produced by this horrible devastation. A large portion of the population had refused to abandon thr city, and had concealed themselves in the interior of their houses. 'J'hese unhappy people were now forced into ths A.D 1812. j NAPOLEOX 5i streets by the devouring element. Some took refuge in th* public buildings and churches, but even here they were not safe from destruction. The hospitals, which vv^ere full oi wounded Russian soldiers, became a prey to the flames. The sea of fire which thus pervaded this great capital, com pelled the French army to quit the city. For four days during which it never ceased burning, they encamped at Pe trovsky, at the distance of lour versts, or about three miles. During their stay at Petrovsky the flames had timJ to ex- haust themselves, and heavy rains also fell, which helped to extinguish them. On the 21st the army re-entered the city, where the Kremlin, its interior circle, which contained the palace of the ancient czars, together with that of the patri- arch, and many other great buildings, had escaped the flames. Napoleon took up his residence in the Kremlin, and it was found that houses enough had escaped the flames to afford cantonmjents for the whole of the army. Thus was Napoleon at length installed, though most in auspiciously, in the possession of Moscow. But the Russian power was still unbroken ; his communication Vvilh France would soon be wholly precluded ; and the vast armies of the enemy would again advance on him in the spring. All this doubtless he saw distinctly. Yet he hoped that the eclat of his conquest would now induce Alexander to seek for peace. Failing in this hope, he himself proposed to nego- tiate ; but Kutusofi^ to whom the proposal was made, an- swered immediately, that no terms could be entered into while an enemy remained in the Russian territories. Afte? twice renewing the same proposal, with the same ill success- Napoleon, though in the face of a Russian winter, determined to commence his retreat. The body of the French army quitted Moscow on the 18th of October, leaving behind a detachment which was instruct- ed to blow up the Kremlin. The Kremlin was saved by thb rapid advance of the Russians. In the rear of the main army followed a long train of carriages, loaded with the spoils of Moscow, which were all destined, however, to be abandon- ed on the road. The first considerable engagement of the retreating army with the enemy was on the 24th of the same month at Male Jaroslavitz, where ihe French army, though it suffered severe ly, appears on the whole to have had the advantage. Eul the history of the retreat becomes, from this period, a history pf the most dreadful and lentjthened calamities. On the 6ti Bi>2 NAPOLEON. [Chap. XL, i>f November, Napoleon arrived at Studzianca, a village on the banks of the river Beresina ; where the Hussians, vi^ho had destroyed the bridge at Borisow, were in force on both tides to dispute the passage with him. Here he constructed two bridges, one for cavalry, and one for infantry. He him- iieli crossed on the 27th. On the morning of the 28th, the iiussians opened a cannonade on the wretched fugitives who \vere pressing their flight, and the most dreadful carnage took place. The strong made their way by throwing the weak into the river, or by trampling thera under foot. Many were crushed to death by the wheels of the cannon. Some, who hoped to save themselves by swimming, were inclosed by the floating ice in the midst of the river. Many perished by trusting themselves to pieces of ice, which sunk under them, and thousands, weary of suffering, and deprived of all hope, drowned themselves voluntarilj\ One division, forcing its way over the bridge, set fire to it as soon as it had passed, in order to prevent the enemy from pursuing. But many of their own troops were still on the other side of the river, whose misery at this abandonment exceeds all description. Crowds on crowds still pressed on the burning bridge, choking up the passage, and scorched and frozen at the same instant, till it sunk, at length, with a horrid crash, in the Beresina. After these disasters, all order was wholly lost. Napoleon himself, on the 5th of December, set out on a sledge for Paris, where he arrived at midnight on the ISth. The relics of hi.s army arrived at Wilna on the 9th, and on the 12th at Kow- no, the same place where, six months before, they had crossed the Niemen in their invasion of Russia. How different the state in which they now re-crossed it I Of 400,000 men, in- cluding Prussians and Austrians, w"ho are supposed to have engaged in this disastrous expedition, not 50,000, it is sup- posed, escaped death or capti^'ity. Of these 50,000 also, I apprehend that the larger portion consisted of reinforcements which the army met while retreating, and which, consequent- ly, had not shared in the previous fatigue and brunt of the campaign. It is said also by some good officers, that if the Russian generals had exerted themselves during the retreat, «dth sufficient alacrity, even this residue could not have es- caped. In France the greatest possible exertions were made to replace the losses which the army had sustained. It was impossible wholly tc compensate by new levies the absence of the veterans who had perished, or had been made prisoners A D. 18I3.J NAPOLEON. 553 in Russia. But still a very large and powerful ibrj6 was marched into Germany early in the spring. New enemies Had arisen in the mean time. The ascendency of Russia, and the hope that an opportunity was now given of crushing for- evfr the insatiable ambition of the French emperor, induced Jie king of Prussia to declare once more against hira. The Prussians of all ranks flew to arms wHh enthusiasm. Sweden also acceded to this new coalition. Nevertheless, Napoleon was still alert and intrepid. On May 2, 1813, he gained a victory over the Russians and Prussians at Lutzen. On the 20th and 21st, he gained an- other at Bautzen. The emperor ol Austria then proposed a mediation. An armstice was concluded on the 4th of June, and a congress assembled at Prague to take into consideration terms of peace. The terms proposed were, that the French empire shou,ld be bounded by the Alps, the Rhine, and the Mouse, and that the German States should be restored to their independence. These terms were positively rejected by Bonaparte, and the armistice terminated August 10. Imme- diately afterward Austria joined the confederates. In a great battle near Dresden on the 26th and 27th of the same month. Napoleon defeated the allies and compelled them lo retreat. But the force of his enemies was daily increas- ing. The Bavarians deserted him, and joined their forces to those of the Austrians ; and at length, in a series of conflicts at Leipsic, in wliich the Saxons also deserted him in the midst of a battle, the power of this great conqueror was finally broken, and he was compelled to a retreat which was less calamitous than that from Moscow only because a less distance was to be crossed before he could arrive in a place of safety ; and because he had not now to contend with the climate of Russia, or with the hardships of a rigorous season. The great conflict at Leipsic, which began on the 18th, terminated on the morning of the 19th of October. On the 7th of Novem- ber, Napoleon crossed the Rhine at Mentz, and two days ifterward arrived in Paris. Still, even after this second calamity, his power did not forsake him. He obtained a levy of 300,000 men from the senate, and prepared with the greatest ardor for a campaign, in which the tide of war, which since the commencement of the Revolution had overflov/ed on the surrounding nations of Europe, was now rolled back on France itself. Princa Schwartzenberg, commander-in-chief of the Austrians, and w'th him the Russian generals Barclay de ToUi and Witt- Aa a54 NAPOLEON. IChap. XL genstein, werj advancing on the frontier of Switzerland at the head of an army of 150,000 men. Blucher the Prussian general, with 130,000, was 'Advancing from Frankfort ; and Bemadotte, with 100,000, by w^ay of the Netherlands. At the same time the Austrians had another army in Italy. Murat, king of Naples, also joined the confederates. The Dutch recalled the stadtholder ; and the English army under Lord Wellington, which in the course of the five preceding campaigns had succeeded in expelling the French from the Spanish peninsula, had crossed the Bidassoa and was advanc- ing to Bayonne. Opposed by so many and such formidable enemies. Napoleon appeared not to lose either his courage or his military genius. Lie disconcerted the allies by the rapidity of his movements, and gained several brilliant successes ; which, though they did not carry with them any lasting advantage, yet filled Europe wdth wonder at his fertility of resources, began to restore that dominion over men's minds which he had long exercised st extensively, and made his enemies still doubtful of the result. A congress for the negotiation of a general peace was assem- bled at Chatillon, in January, 1814. The terms proposed by the allies were, to leave Napoleon in possession of the same territories which France had held under her kings, together with the accession of the Austrian Netherlands. This con- gress, however, was ineffectual, and at length dissolved itself. The allies advanced, and on the 30 th of March a battle was fought on the heights near Montmartre, which put it in their power to make an immediate assault on the capital. The city capitulated the following day. The old royalist party now conceived the hope that the Bourbon family might be restored to the throne ; and many friends of liberty also, who had found that the finger of Na- poleon had pressed more heavily than the whole weight of the ancient government, were disposed to concur in favoring their restoration, as being the surest means of producing a steady tranquillity. Cries of "Long live the king I down with the tyrant ! long live the Bourbons !" were frequently heard in the streets ; and the emperor Alexander, and the king of Prussia, who entered Paris in procession, March 31, were greeted with the plaudits and acclamations of the multitude. On the 1st of April the senate decreed that "Napoleon Bonaparte haj forfeited the throne ; that the hereditary right in his family was abolished ; and the people and the army released from t-heir oath of finality." AD. 1814.] NA.POLEDN. adS Napoleon, who had still an army at Fontainblcau, on re- ceiving this intelligence, announced a determinatiou to march to Paris, and to make an attempt to repel the intruders ; but the struggle was become plainly hopeless. His marechala refused to support him, and in this desperate situation of hia affairs pressed him to abdicate. He stipulated at first that his son should succeed him ; but the cause of the Bourbons becoming every day more and more decided, he was compelled finally to abdicate unconditionally. The treaty with the allied powers containing this abdication was dated on the 11th of April, and provided that the little island of Elba, in the Mediterranean, should be assigned to him, in full sovereignty as his future residence. A pension of two millions of franc* was allotted to him. Pensions were assigned also to the other members of his family. On the 20th he set out for his new principality, for which he embarked on the 28th in an English frigate at Frejus, the same port at which he had landed fif- teen years before, on his return from the expedition to Egypt. The empress returned to Austria vidth her son, and put herself under the protection of her father, with whom they remained for some time. In the mean time the senate declared a constitutional charter, by which they recalled Louis XVIII. to the throne, on the condition that he should swear to accept the charter and to enforce it. To this Louis gave a general assent in a declEPtation dated May 2. On the 3d he made his solemn entry into Paris. On the 30th a definitive treaty of peace was concluded ; by which the continental dominions of Franco were restricted, generally speaking, to those which it possessed on the 1st of January, 1792, but with some few additions of territory, partly in the Netherlands, and partly in Savoy. England restored all her foreign conquests from France, with the exception of the islands of Tobago and St. Lucie, in the West Indies, and of the Isle of France and its dependencies. All means were taken, which prudence could dictate to the allied powers, to spare the feelings of the great nation which they had conquered ; and even in the act of resimiing the foreign territories which it had acquired, to leave it in posses- sion of the consolatory and just belief that the honor of the nation was still preserved in all its integrity, and that no dis- grace fell any where but on that ambitious individual, whose own imprudence had provoked his signal fall. On June 4th, the king presented to the legislature a constitutional charter, which wa.s formed on the basij of that former charter wliich 658 NAPOLEON. [Chap. XL had beeu Jravtii up by tlie senate in tne beginning of April. Still, however, there were very many persons who apprehend- ed that the king, or at least his advisers, were disposed to hold that the oppressive privileges of the old monarchy had been transmitted to him untouched through the Revolution ; and that he would only wait for an opportunity to break the faith he had pledged, to re-establish all the abuses of the ancient prerogative, and especially to resume the property of the church, which had been taken possession of by the national assembly, and was now divided among a large body of pro- prietors. The personal character of Louis himself gave little encouragement to the suspicions ; but still they acquired, from various causes, great currency, and awakened a very general distrust. With these feelings the year 1814 passed away. In the year following, those rapid changes of fortune, with which the period already -before us abounds so greatly, were at last wound up by bringing once more on the scene, under circumstances still more surprising than we have yet observed, the extraor- dinary individual to whom, if France can produce a parallel, we must go back for it to the history and achievements of Charlemagne. Napoleon on his passage from Frejus to Elba, is said to have observed, that " if Marius had slain himself in the marshes of Mintunice, he would never have enjoyed his seventh con- sulate." What was thus at first, perhaps, only a vague' aspi- ration, soon became an object of thought and ambition. The peace had restored to France the captive soldiery who had been prisoners in England, Russia, and Genmany. Even those officers who had sworn fidelity to Louis were ready to aid in reviving the claims of the great general, to whom the army was thought to owe its glory and greatness. Thej' were sensible that they could never retain under another gov- ernment that consideration which they had possessed under his. Many of them found also, or if they did not find, yet fancied, that they were actually shghted in the Bourbon court. All means also were taken to foment popular dissatisfaction, and to excite some undefined expectation of the future return of Napoleon. In the beginning of the year 1815, he returned in reality. Escaping from Elba, he disembarked on the 1st of March, w^.th about 900 men, near the small town of Games, in tha gu/f of Juan ; thence he advanced to Gap. On the 5th, in bis way to Grenoble, he was joined by many of the officers, A;D. 181 5. J JIAPOLEON bVl and all the soldiery stationed there. From Grenoble he ad- vanced to Lyons, ^A here monsieur the king's brother, and tha doke of Orleans, had hastened to oppose his farther progress. Here also the troops joined him. On the 17th he reached Auxerre ; he then proceeded to Fontainbleau, and on the evening of the 20th entered Paris without opposition. Louis had left his capital at one in the morning of that day, and after vainly attempting to secure himself at Lille, fled first to Ostend, and afterv/ard to Ghent. The whole of the army, with the exception of a few of the officers, and almost tha whole of the civil authorities, readily acknowledged the cause of Napoleon, thus once more seated on his abdicated throne by the most rapid transition known in history. One of the first acts of the restored emperor of France was to attempt to induce the allied powers to acquiesce in his restoration, as being, he said, the unanimous act of the French people, and to abide in all other respects by the treaty of Paris of the preceding year. But all those powers agreed unanimously that they would have neither peace nor trucft with him. It was become evident, therefore, that there must be another appeal to the sword. Both parties made the most gigantic preparations. Napoleoir endeavored to gain popu- larity by proposing institutions of a nature favorable to lib- erty, and similar to those of Louis's constitutional charter. But he clearly saw that his real strength lay in his army ; and it was plain, that if victory should restore his authority, all the national and civil institutions would again bend before his will. In the beguining of June a combined English and Prussian army was quartered in the neighborhood of Brutcels and Charleroi, under the command of the duke of WeUington and marechal Blucher. Napoleon, with his characteristic decision and promptitude, put himself at the head of 150,000 selected troops, who had assumed the title cf the army of the north, and on the 14th of June commenced operations on the Flemish frontier. On the 15th he passed the Sambre, and took Charleroi. On the 16th two battles were fought at Ligny and at Quatre Bras. In the one of these Napoleon 'gained the advantage over Blucher ; in the other marechal Ney had a severe struggle with the English, in which neithei party gained a clear superiority. In this action at Quatr< Bras the duke of Brunswick was killed — the son of that duk* who had commanded the Prussian army in the war whicl broke out in the beginning of the K evolution. Both the* »8 NAPOLEON. [Chjp. XL actions, however, are chiefly memorablfc as the precursors oi , the decisive battle which followed on the 18th, at Waterloo, and which terminated forever Napoleon's splendid career. It had long been his wish to be personally opposed to the duke of Wellington, and, when he joined the army of the north, he exultingly exclaimea, " Now I shall encounter Welling- ton !" His wish was gratified, but never, perhaps, was any defeat more bloody or more disastrous than that which he was destined now to sustain. He issued his order?, and viewed the battle, from a convenient distance ; and an oflScer who was standing near him affirmed, that " his astonishment at the resistance of the British was extreme ; his agitation be- came violent ; he took snuff by handfuls at the repulse of each charge." At last he took the officer by the arm, saying, " The afiair is over — we have lost the day — let us be off I" In this heartless manner, and thinking only of himself, Napo- leon abandoned an army which was wholly devoted to him. lie fled to Paris, where he arrived on the 20th. He again abdicated, making at the same time another in- effectual attempt to place the succession in the hands of his son. On the 29th, he set out for Rochefort, intending to seek refuge in the United States of America. In the mean time, the allied army advanced on Paris. On the 7th of July the city surrendered, and on the Sth Louis XVIII, re- entered it. Thus closed finally that succession of revolutions which had distracted Europe for a period of twenty-five years. Peace was again restored nearly on the basis of the treaty which had been contracted the year before, but with some resumptions of territory by the allies on the frontiers of the Netherlands, of Germany, and of Savoy. It was also pro- vided, *.hat an allied army of 150,000 men should occupy, for the space of three or five years, a line of fortresses from Cambray to Alsace, the possession of which would enable them, in any case of necessity, to march straight to Paris without opposition. This army was to be maintained wholly at the expanse of France, and France agreed also to pay 700,000,000 of francs, to be divided in different proportions among the. allied powers, as a partial indemnification for the expenses of this last contest, which had been brought on so imexpectedly by the return of Napoleon. It was also de- cided that the pictures and statues, of which Italy, the Neth- erlands, and other countries, had been despoiled, should, be restored, to their ancient possessors. Not even the occupatioM 4..D 1815.J NAPOLEON. Sir* of their territory by foreign troops, and the sort of tiibvLte whicl: they were compelled to pay for their maintenance, ap- pear to have been so grating to the national vanity as the fceing compelled to make this just restitution. The definitive t]-eaty was signed at Paris, on the 20th day of November. It now only remains lor me to add a few brief particulars with regard to '■he condition in which the other nations of Europe were h ft at the conclusion of these protracted ho& tilities. In December, 1813, after the defeats which Napoleon had sustained in Germany, he judged it politic to restore Ferdi- nand to the throne of Spain ; first making a treaty by which he may be said to have bound him hand and foot to support in every thing the interests of France. In Italy, Murat, the new king of Naples, who had married one of Napoleon's sisters, joined, in 1814, as you have al- ready been told, the cause of the allies. In 1815, either from distrust of their sincerity, or from the natural restlessness of his disposition, he took arms against Austria, and occupied Rome. He then advanced as far as the Po, but was soon sompelled to retreat. In a battle at Tolentino, on the 2d and 3d of May, he was completely defeated. He fled alone to Naples, and thence to France, and from France to Corsica. The exiled Ferdinand of Naples, in the mean time, returned from Palermo, and again seated himself on his throne. Mu- rat, in the October following, rashly attempted to invade Calabria, but was defeated and taken prisoner, and imme- diately afterward was tried and executed by a court-martial. In the north of Italy the king of Sardinia was restored, and Genoa was added to his dominions. Austria retained V^enice, and resumed the Milanese, and the other territories of which she had been in possession before the wars of the Revolution. The whole of Flanders was, with the full consent of Aus- tria, united to Holland, and the prince of Orange assumed the title of king of the Netherlands. Napoleon, now a hopeless fugitive, arrived at Rochefort* or the 3d of July. He there embarked on board a small frigate for America ; but an English ship of superior force lying in sight, it was impossible, if he sailed, to escape being taken Under these circumstances, he surrendered himself, on the 15th of July, to the English. The English captain received him and his suite on board, and immediately sailing for Erv " On the westerr loast of France. ■560 NAPOLEON. LChap. XI gland, arrived in Torbay, on the 25th. After various discos- sions as to the manner in which he should be treated, it waff finally determined that he should be sent to ti>3 island of St Helena, a place which combined, in a remarkable degree, the provision for the safe custody of his person, with the least restraint possible of his domestic comforts and his habits of exercise. This consideration was fairly regarded as due to a man who had filled so high a station in the world, and wliose return from Elba, however perfidious and indefensible, had been sanctioned by the applause and approbation of the tjow- erful kingdom from which he was again expelled. The ex- pedition conducting him arrived at St. Helena on the 18th of October, 1815. A place called Longwood was fitted up for his reception. He there resided nearly six years, and died on the 5th of May, 1821.* The death of this extraordinary man of course annihilated the hopes of his remaining partisans in France, who till then had, in spite of all existing improbabilities, cherished the idea that, by some of his inconceivable turns of fortune, he would at some time or other re-appear among them. For the last few years, the French nation in general has, to all outward appearance at least, quietly accommodated itself to the do- minion of the Bourbons. The people seem for the present to have exhausted all their more turbulent propensities, and to be willing to exchange glory for tranquillity. Louis XVIII. having fulfilled the hopes which were en- tertained of his purity of character and goodness of heart, and surpassed the not very sanguine anticipations of his capacity and powers for government, descended peaceably to the grave, on the 16th of September, 1824. He married Maria Josepha of Savoy, who died at Hart" well, in 1810. On the death of Louis Xyill., his brother Charles, who had been the comte d'Artois, mounted the throne. He mar- ried Maria Theresa, of Savoy, sister to the wife of Louis XVIII. She died in 1805, and left two sons. Of these the eldest, Louis Antoine, due d'Angouleme, on his father's ac- cession, of course became dauphin. He married his cousin, the daughter of Louis XVI. * Napoleon was buried in Longwood; but in 1840, with tbe consent of the English govenitnent, a small French squadron was sent, under tha command of the priace de JoinviUe, to bring his remains to France. They were received with the greatest veneration both at Havre, where they were first landed, and afterward at Paris, where they were re-irlerred in the church of the Invalids on the 18th of DecemVer i7i that year CoNV.J NAPOLEON. St,i The younger son, Charles i^'erdinand, due de Ben , mar- ried Maria Caroiine of Naples. He was kiUed Feb. Ic , 1820, as he was leaving the theater, by an assassin of the nime of Louvel. This man was a political enthusiast, who declared on his trial that he had taken away the life of the duke in intention of destroying the race of the Bourbons, who were the cause, as he thought, of the misery of the nation. The due de Berri had a daughter born Feb. 21, 1&19, and & posthumous son, Henry Charles Ferdinand, due de Bor deaux, born Sept. 29, 1S20. After the dauphin, who had ao children, this young prince became presumptive heir to 1 hb crown of France. CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XL. Fontaine dk Palmier. Richard. And now, if you please, mamma, will you tell ns something wiore about Bonaparte ? Mary. I should have thought you had heard enough about him in the last chapter ! Richard. Yes ! But I want to know how he began the world, and by what means he came to be so great. Mrs.. Markham. The father of Napoleon Bonaparte, ol Buonaparte, as it was originally, and indeed more properh *63 NAPOLEON [Chap it epelled, was a lawyer at Ajaccio, in Corsica. Count Martoeuf the French governor of Corsica, took great notice of the young Napoleon, and procured admittance for him into tba royal military college at Brienne, in Champagne. While there, his whole soul was absorbed in military ardor. Not only his studies, but also his amusements, all took the same direction. He scorned the common diversions of boyhood, and Boleiy occupied himself in inventing mancEuvres, in forming plans of fortifications, and in other meditations and studies of the art mihtary. His little garden (for it seems that each of the rstudents had one of his own) he turned into an encamp- ment, surrounded it with a palisade, and was violently irritat- ed if any of his companions presumed to invade it. George. It would have been as well for the world if master Bonaparte had grown up with as great a dislike to invading, as he had to be invaded Mrs. M. Bonaparte, while at Brienne, was noted for his proficiency in his studies, and also for his pride and suUenness But notwithstanding these defects of character, he was «ven tnen remarkable for that power, which he showed so much aiterward, of gaining ascendency over others. His schoolfel- lows, though they dishked him, he yet constrained to follow nim in all his schemes, and to enter into his mimic wars Many were the battles between imaginary Greeks and Per sians, E-omans and Carthaginians, in which Napoleon, as you may be sure, was always the victorious party. George. Nothing should have made me one of his legion of honor, after he was emperor ; but I should- have liked very well to have been one of his Greeks or Romans while he was a schoolboy. Mrs. M. In 1784, when Napoleon was about fifteen, he was admitted into the royal military school at Pans , and in ihe following year he obtained a lieutenancy in a regiment of artillery. About this time he lost his patron, count Marboeuf, who had hitherto supplied him with money, and his finances became, in consequence, much reduced. But notwithstand- ing this embarrassment, the time we are now speaking of was, probably, the happiest period of his life. He would often say, when in the plenitude of his power, that he "loved to look back on those happy days, when he was roaming about the streets of Paris as an engineer subaltern, to dis cover a cheap place to dine at." Richard. I think I know why he was then so happy. G 'orgs. And so do I It was because his heart was a* «ONV.J i"5Al'OLE0N db4 Sight as his parse, and not weighed d(>wn with a load of guilt and ambition. ik/rs. M. This happy period was soon over. In the out- set of the Revohition, the young Napoleon entered so heartily into its principles as to excite the indignation of his brother officers, who, on one occasion, were so much exasperated by his conduct, that, with a violence as unpardonable as his own, they were actually on the point of drowning him. He then secluded himself, to brood in solitude over his wrongs. After a while he returned into Corsica, and resided a short time with his mother, who was at that time a widow in indigent circumstances. Here he still industriously pursued his pro- fessional studies, and he amused himself in his intervals of leisure in writing a history of Corsica. George. I should never have thought that the writing a history could be a leisure amu&ement. From what I have seen of it, it seems very hard work. iVJrs. M. His love for his native country prebably light- ened the labor to him. He was often heard to say, that "he recollected with delight the very smell of the earth in Cor- sica." He did not, however, at this time, give himself any long enjoyment of it. We find him again at Paris in 1790 : and in the following year he was promoted to be a captain of artillery, in the regiment of Grenoble. He first exhibited his transcendent military talents at the siege of Toulon, in December, 1794. On that memorable occasion, he displayed a coolness, bravery, and decision of character which astonished nis superior officers. He was one of those who, after the city was taken, was appointed to execute the sanguinary ven- geance with which, as Fouche says, in the letter I read to vou yesterday, the victory was celebrated. From Toulon, Bonaparte repaired to Nice, and he was there at the time of Robespierre's death, and the termination of the reign of ter- ror. He was arrested on the charge of having been a part}' in the massacres at Toulon, but was soon released. He waS; nevertheless, deprived of his command in the artillery. In disgust at this treatment, he hastened to Paris to make his complaint, biit could obtain no redress. His fortunes were now at their lowest ebb : he was destitute of money and iriends, and spent many months in revolving various wild md impracticable plans. I have heard it said, that he pro- tected to enter the English service, and that he secretly visit- •.^ London, where h3 lodged in the Adelphi. 'f he disturbances in Paris at length produced an opening 56* NAPOLEON. LChap Xi. for liis ambition. He vigorously exerted himseli in the service of the convention, and gained over the opposing factions a great victory, in which 8000 Parisians are said to have fallen. This success was rewarded by the command of the army of the interior. In the beginning of 1796 he married Josephine, the widow of count Beauharnois, and was soon afterward placed at the head of the army of Italy. . Ricliard. One of the most surprising things about Bona- parte is, that he should so easUy have prevailed on those de- termined republicans to submit to him. Mrs. M. By the confession of our old acquaintance, M. Fouche, " the repubhcans had governed at random, without end, and without fixed principles." They were all jealous of one another, and the want of a head was much felt. At this moment the young Corsican appeared, and had the vigor and abihty promptly to seize the opportunity. Mary. Pray what became of Josephine after sha was divorced ? • Mrs. M. She continued to reside at Malmaison, near Paris, and submitted to her degradation with a serenity and dignity which greatly exalted her in the eyes of the world. When the allies entered Paris, the emperor Alexander paid her a visit, and behaved to her with a marked respect, saying, that he was anxious to see a lady whose praises he had heard repeated in every part of France in which he had been. Jo- sephine died soon after this interview, of a violent cold. Richard. I can not imagine any thing more mortifying to the French than to see their dear Paris, of which they are so proud, taken possession of by a foreign enemy. Gem-ge. It served them very right : for my part, I don't pity them in the least. The French had themselves taken possession of so many capital cities, that it was but fair they should have their own taken in turn. Mary. But then think, brothers, of the poor innocent Parisians I Mrs. M. The Parisians, as was the case during the wars of the league, shut their eyes to their impending danger. Even when the cannon of the allied army were within hearing, the mass of the people felt little alarm, so totally ignorant were they of the number of the enemy, and so entirely confident in the "fortune" of their emperor, who, they doubted not, would Boon surround the invaders, and take them all prisoners. As Bome excuse for this bluid folly, it ought to be added, that every thing was done on the part of the government to en' Cofjr.] NAPOLEON. 565 courage the delusion of the people. Tee number of the ene my was represented as being only thirty or forty thousand, and the newspapers, which were all under the direction of the government, propagated the most barefaced falsehoods. Defeats were passed over, and every trifling advantage was magnified into a great victory. To favor this deceit, every prisoner of war that could be mustered was paraded with great ceremony through Paris. Not only those who had been taken in recent actions were thus exhibited, but also many of those who had been taken on former occasions were brought from their places of confinement for the purpose of swelling the apparent triumph, Ridiarcl. It is impossible that every body could have been so deceived. There 77ius.t have been some who knew the real state of affairs. Mrs. M. All who were immediately connected with Bona parte were doubtless very well informed on the subject. The empress retired to Blois on the first approach of the allies, taking with her fifteen wagon-loads of treasure. I lately met with a curious account by an English gentleman of what he saw in Paris at this interesting period. " At daybreak of the morning," he says, " on which the empress left Paris, the dis- order which had reigned all night in the Tuileries was ex- posed to the public. The window-shutters being opened, the wax-lights in the chandeliers were seen expiring in their sock- ets. The ladies were seen running from room to room, some weeping in the greatest distraction, and servants hurrying from place to place in like confusion." George. I should like to know what the newspapers said about the allies when they were actually in Paris. Mrs. M. In the Mcyiiitev,r, which was published on the day of capitulation, little or no notice was taken of the state of public affairs. The columns of the paper were nearly filled 'Adth a critique on some dramatic works, and a dissertation on the probable existence of Troy. Kichard. But surely all attempt at deceit must then have been useless ; for every body that had eyes must have seen what was going on. Mrs. M. Paris, during its occupation by the allied troops, presented a strange spectacle. Soldiers of many mingled nations, Hussians, Austrians, and semi-barbarians from the deserts of Tartary, all quartered, as it were, in one greai camp. In the wide streets, many of the soldiers had con- fctructed huts, at the doors of which some of them might be .)66 LOUIS XVIII. lChap. XLi 6ei3n cooki.ig their food, others botching their grotesque gar ments, and others looking over the booty which they had gained in their march through the country, or bartering it with the inhabitants, who were eagerly chafi'eiing for prop- erty which they knew to have been the plunder of their fel low countrymen. In some places horses were tied to the trees, and were busily employing themselves in eating the bark. Around were piles of warlike accouterments, and arms of overy description, from the bows and arrows and long lances of the Tartars, to the pistols and sabers of the Europe- ans. But the most surprising part of this extraordinary scene was the extreme orderliness and peaceable demeanor (with /ery few exceptions), of the foreign soldiers, and the compos ure and apparent apathy of the French under circumstances io truly humiliating. CHAPTER XLI. LOUIS XVIIL [Years after Christ, 1815—1824.] After the final defeat of Napoleon at Waterloo, Louis, ai you were told, re-entered his capital July 8th, 1815. He, at first, appointed the prince de Tallyrand to the ministry of foreign afiliirs, and continued Fouche in his post of minister of police. But these appointments were soon canceled, and a new ministry formed, which had the due de Richelieu at its head. Toward the close of the year, a law of amnesty was proposed and carried, by which, with some few reserva- tions, a fuU pardon was granted to all who had taken the part of Napoleon in the recent struggle. Among the persons excepted were Ney, Labedoyere, and Lavallette, who were apprehended and tried. The treason of the two first was evi- dent. They had sworn allegiance to, and had taken employ- ment under, Louis, after the restoration in 1814, and never- theless had been among the first of those who deserted his service for that of the usurper. Yet an intense feeling in ♦heir behalf prevailed throughout France. At the time of Napoleon's arrival before Grenoble, in hia extraordinary career of March, 1815, Labedoyere had the command in that town. He immediately marched out at tho head of his corps, with drums beating, and the old eagle of. A..D. 1815.] LOUIS XVIII. SBT the regiment displayed, to salute and join, the emperor. This was the first great impulse which the army received, and it may have weighed much to decide the success of the enter- prise. He was now condemned, and shot. Ncy, duke of Elchingen, who had acquired xhe title ol " bravest of the brave," had been one of the most distinguished of aU the generals of Napoleon ; and the national enthusiasm for military gloiy had fixed on him as its favorite hero. He is said to have j:romised Louis to bring Napoleon to Paris, shut up like a wild T^east in an iron cage. Yet he no sooner received an invitation to espouse the cause of his former mas- ter, than he denounced the Bourbons as unfit to reign, and recommended his troops to join the emperor. He had after- ward fought at Waterloo, and led the final but unsuccessful attack on tho British center. The court-martial, which was now collected to try him, strangely declared itself incompetent to the office. He was then brought before, and condemned to death by, the Chamber of Peers ; and the sentence was carried into execution, but in a clandestine manner, which showed, or was thought to show, an extreme timidity in the government. The case of Lavallette was altogether romantic. He had been one of Napoleon's earliest and most intimate personal friends, and had married a niece of the empress Josephine. He had taken no office under Louis, but on the approach of Napoleon had assumed the mastership of the post-office, the station which he had held before the restoration ; and he had zealously circulated • the intelligence of the emperor's rapid success, and had suppressed a proclamation which was issued by Louis, previously to his departure from the capital. For this ofiense he was condemned to death ; but his execution was delayed, and during the intei-val, his wife contrived and effected his escape. Every restored monarch must be surrounded by difficulties, and probably no one was ever more entangled in them than Louis XVIII. The humiliation of the French arms, to which he owed his restoration, was, of itself, enough to excite a Btrong feeling against him. He was infirm, and of an un- wieldy person, and the Parisians, and the people in general, were very ready to contrast these disadvantages with the energetic activity of Napoleon. Pie had expressed a natural gratitude to the prince regent of England, for the friendjy in- terference by which he had been placed on his throne. Bui this unavoidable, and, indeed, praiseworthy gratitude to En A6B lUUiS XVIII LChap-XLI gland, had necessarily operated to produce dissatisfaction ia France. The general object of his policy was to steer be tween the extremes of all parties, as well as he could. His chief difficulties, at least at first, were with the royalists, al- though he had certainly gone great lengths to satisfy them, even to the extent of violating in several instances the coii- ititutional charter, which the senate had proposed to him in 1814, as the condition under which they called him to the throne. He had, moreover, proscribed the tri-color, and had restored the spotted and M'hite flag of the Bourbons. This last, trifling as it may seem, was probably one among the most serious of his errors. Almost all to whom French glory was dear — that is, almost all Frenchmen — felt iahgnant at the proscription of the flag which had triumphed a- Marengo, Jena, and Austerlitz, and in so many other great battles of Napoleon. Still, however, the royalists, who had the duk^ .md duch- ess of Angouleme at their head, were not satist-^d. Tlieii party was in great strength in the chamber of d ^puties, and the king, therefore, in 1816, by his ministers' ,tdvice, dis- solved the chamber. The elections which follow A gave the predominance in the new chamber to the liberaU^ as the op- posite party was commonly called ; and the d^j de Riche- lieu, finding himself as unable to repress this parly as he had been to modify that of the royahsts, resigned las office in 1818. He was succeeded by the marquis Dessoles, and then by M. Decazes. Decazes, in his turn, resigned in 1820, and the due de RicheUeu resumed his place in the ministry. M Decazes had estabhshed the freedom of the press. Riche- lieu restrained it, by bringing forward and carrying a law which required that all pohtical writings should be subjected to a censorship before they were pubhshed. He carried, also, a law of arrest, and various alterations in the law of elec- tions, which greatly increased the power of the government. These measures checked for a time the influence of the liberal, or popular party, or of what was called the left ot the chamber of deputies. The ?ight, of course, consisted of the royalists, or of those who were inclined to press, as far aa possible, a return to the principles of the ancient regime. Eafih of these sides warred on the party of the center, or the moderate party, which was the king's own. From these dissensions in the chamber of deputies, it is satisfactory to turn to a view of the relations of France with the neighboring countries. Jt had been provided by the A.D. 1822. J LOUIS XVIIl. . 569 treaties of alliance of 1814 and 1815 between Russia, Aus- tria, Prussia, and England, that special congresses, or, as they were called, re-unimis, should be held from time to time by the sovereigns of these states, or their minislers, to take into consideration the state of Europe, and the measures necessary for its repose and prosperity. The first of these re-unions was held in October, 1818, at Aix-la-Chapelle. Among the chief points then brought before the congress, was that of with- drawing the foreign troops cantoned in France, concerning whom it had been provided that they either should remain for a period of five years, or might be withdrawn at the end of three years, as circumstances should direct. Their im- mediate removal was now agreed to unanimously. France acceded to the terms of the alliance already existing between the other four great powers of Europe. No delay was made in the actual removal of the troops ; and in a very short period not a foreign soldier was to be found in arms in any part of the French territory. At the close of the year 1820, the due de Richelieu, in thc» hope of conciliating some of the aristocrats, admitted a few of the more moderate of that party into the cabinet. Of these M. Villele was the most conspicuous. These new allies, however, soon felt dissatisfied, and gave in their resignations in the end of July, 1821. Richelieu then retired, and a new administration, having M. Villele at its head, was announced on the 14th of December following. Another congress of sovereigns assembled at Verona in the beginning of 1822. The viscount Montmorency attended this congress on the part of France, and the affairs of Spain were the chief topic of its discussions. Louis, who was well aware that many political discontents were fomenting secretly within his own realm, regarded on that account with the greater apprehension the distracted condition of Spain ; and his minister strongly urged the congress to resort to force to restore its tranquillity. The opposition which was made on the part of England hindered the congress from doing this openly ; but it must be suspected that Montmorency foresaw that no obstacle would be presented to the interference of France, provided she kept clear of all aggrandizement of her owii power by any conquests which she might make. The French ministry attempted for a time to conceal their inten- tions ; but at length the mask was thrown oft^ and in the be- ginning of 1823 a considerable army was marched into Spain, under the command of the duke of Angouleme. Endanfi 70 LOUIS XVIII. LChap XIJ was ihe oily neutral power -which took any offense at thi? proceeding ; but though it became the subject of much ani- madversion in parhament, it was not generally deemed to amount to a sufficient cause for hostility. The French army crossed the Bidassoa, April 7, and enter- ed Madrid on the 10th of May. From Madrid they advanced to and took Cadiz. On the 2d of November the duke oi Angoul^me re-entered Paris in a triumphal procession ; but the greater part of the army remained be^nd in military oc- cupation of Spain, and the last division did not return to France till 1828. The impression which was made in France by these suc- cesses was very gratifying to the court. The national pride was indulged by the air of conquest which the army had as- sumed. To dictate to Spain was to take once more an atti- tude of command in Europe ; and the duke of Angouleme was metamorphosed into a hero, and loaded with eulogies which would have been extravagant even if they had been applied to Napoleon. The ministers, encouraged by the popularity thus obtained^ ventured to project new changes in the election of the mem- bers of the chamber of deputies ; and also an extension, from tive years to seven, of the period for which they were to serve, as in the instance of the septennial law of England. These measures, which were evidently calculated to strengthen the influence of the crown and the aristocracy, were accordingly introduced and carried in the spring of 1824. A general feeling also appeared at this time to prevail, that the crown was resuming by degrees a very large portion, if not of its prerogative, yet of its power ; and so many years had now passed since the restoration, that almost all apprehensions of any approaching disturbance of the public tranquillity were fast fading away. The king himself, though not of showy or popular qualities, was yet a man of sound and good under- standing. He had learned temper and caution in tnfc hard school of adversity. He was pious, but not superstitious ; and the welfare of his country appears to have been his chief and sincere object throughout a reign, during the whole continuance of which he was in depressed health, and fre- quently almost broken down by painful infirmities. He would, probably, however, have been a wiser king, if he had taken on him more than he did the character of a constitu- tional one. His hereditary claims would not have been felt the less strongly, though he had himself brcMght them for- Sony.] LOUIS XVIll 57i ward sviinewhat less. Every Englishman who had at that time any fiee intercourse with the middle classes in France, saw plainly that among those classes a strong under-current of opinion was setting against the court. And though the chamber of deputies was returned by not more than 110,000 electors out of a population of not less than 29,000,000, yet there were evident indications that its sympathies with the people would increase by degrees, and to an extent not to be limited by any changes in its constitution, or in the law of elections, which any ministry could venture to propose. The complication of diseases by which the king was afflict ed, exhausted gradually his vital powers, and his existence became at length only a protracted agony, which he endured, however, with patience and resignation. The first prblic declaration of his being in actual danger, was made Septem- ber 12, 1824, and he died on the morning of the 16th. He was born November 17, 1755, and had married a princess of Saxony, who died at Hartwell in 1810 CONVERSATION ON CHAPTER XLJ. George. Pray, mamma, was not that prince de Talley- rand, whom Louis XVIII. , as you said, made his prime min ister, one of the old leaders of the Revolution 1 Mrs. M. He was a man of noble and indeed of illustrious descent, and was born in 1754. In the early part of his hfo he entered the church, and at the opening of the Revolution he was bishop of Autun : but afterward (I believe it was during Bonaparte's first consulship) he obtained a brief from the pope by which he was released from his ecclesiastical vows. In 1789 he was one of the deputies to the States-General, and espoused the most violent principles of the Revolution, of which he was a zealous and active leader. In 1792 he went to England on some secret mission or design ; but his footsteps were watched by the royalist emigrants, who denounced him to the English government, and procured an order for him to leave the kingdom. Not daring, at that time, to return to France, he sought an asylum in the United States of America, where he remained till the reign of terror was over, when he again sought the shores of his own country. Under the rule of the Directory he was made minister of foreign affairs, and he afterward held the same station for a considerable time under Bonaparte, in whose elevation to the supreme authority o72 LOUIS XVIII. (Chap. XLl by the revolution of November, 1799, he is supposed to have had a very large share. Bonaparte by turns caressed and insulted him ; but, knowing his great abilities, always feared him. In 1814 he took part in the restoration of the Bour- bons, and was sent by Louis to the congress of Vienna at French embassador. Napoleon, on his return from Elba, en- deavored to gain him over once more to his own cause. But Talleyrand was too wily a politician not to see that his old master's cause was now a desperate one. He remamed firm to his new master, and, as you have been told, had the seals of the foreign office confided to him on the second restoration in 1815. But he soon found it necessary to resign them. He then retired for a time from public life. In 1830, however, he was made embassador to England. He retained to a very late period of his life all his activity of mind, and his power of turning and sifting other people as he pleased, while he suffered no one to gain the least insight into his own thoughts. His manner was always guarded, and his countenance abso- lutely imperturbable. He died in 1838. George. Well I that is the last species of reputation that I should be ambitious of, either for myself or any of my friends. But what became of our old friend M. Fouche ? Mrs. M. During the eventful hundred days of 1815, M. Fouche appears to have been a traitor to both parties at once, and on the second restoration he assumed so much merit on account of the service which he had rendered to the Bourbons, that he was continued, as you were told, in office for a time. He was afterward made embassador to Dresden, by way of sending him into a sort of honorable banishment : but was at last denounced as a regicide, and condemned to death in case he re-entered the French territory. He died at Trieste in 1820. Mary. I dare say, mamma, that all those people were of a great deal more consequence ; but I have been longing all this time to ask you something about the count Lavallette whom you mentioned, and how his wife managed to bring about his escape from prison. Mrs. M. On Lavallette's arrest in 1815, he was confined in the prison of the Conciergerie. His wife was admitted to see him there ; and after having tried in vain to procure his pardon, she contrived a plan for him to escape in a female dress, while she herself remained behind in his place. There are many stories of the escapes of other prisoners in the sama way, as for example, the account of lady Nithsdale's extricat Qorri.j LOUIS XVI] [. 573 mg her iiusband from the tower of London, in the reigti of George I. But there is no other story of the kind 'which takes a more powerful hold of our feelings than this of madarac Lavallette. When she first proposed her scheme to her hus band, he was unwilling to agree to it. He thought, as he tells us in the account of his escape which he gives in his Memoirs, that it was an attempt which could not succeed, and he shrank from the idea of being detected in the disguise proposed, and of the derision which he would in that case have to encounter. Nor was he less reluctant to expose a wife whom he tenderly loved to the brutality with which the jailers might treat her when found in the prison. Madame Lavallette, however, would not listen to any of these objec- tions. " I die," she said to him, " if you die. Do not there- fore reject my plan. I know it will succeed. I feel that God supports me I" " How," he then adds, " could I refuse ? Emi- lie appeared so happy in her plan ; so sure of its success. It would be killing her not to give my consent." Accordingly, on the very evening before he expected to be taken to execution, madame Lavallette, accompanied by her daughter, came to the prison. A little before seven o'clock, LaA'-allette put on his disguise. His wife particularly cau- tioned him to stoop, that he might not break the feathers of his bonnet, as he passed through the doors of a large room, in which the turnkeys were stationed ; and she also cautioned him to walk slowly, like a person overcome by fatigue, and to cover his face with a handkerchief When the anxious moment arrived, Lavallette himself wen* first, then his daughter, and afterward an old nurse who had come with her. Lavallette, you may be sure, did not forget to stoop as he went through the door of the large room. On raising his head he found himself in the presence of five turn- keys. He put his handkerchief to his face, and waited for his daughter to come up, as she had been instructed to do, to his left side, that he might by that means avoid the politeness of the jailer, who had been used to conduct madame Lavallette by hQr left hand through the apartment. The child, by mis- take, went to her father's right, and thus gave room for the jailer to come up in liis usual way, and to put his hand on her arm, and to say, " You are going away early, madame." The man was evidently affected, and thought he was speak- ing to a wife who had just been taking a last leave of hel husband. The anxious ^larty reached at length the end of the room b74 i^OLUS XVllI. LChaf X/.l and were let out by tlie turnkey stationed there. They had Btill a few steps to ascend to reach the yard ; and at the bottom of these steps they encountered about twenty soldiers headed by their officer, who had placed themselves at a few pacea distance to see madame Lavallette pass. On reaching the top of the steps, Lavallette went immediately into a sedan- chair which had been stationed on that spot by his wife, as if to wait her own return. But no chairmen were there ; nor yet the servant who had been sent to see that they should be at their pests. Lavallette sat alone in the chair about two minutes, "minutes," he ssiys, "which seemed tome as long as a whole night." At last he heard the servant's voice, saying, "One of the chairmen was not punctual, but I have found another." At the same instant he found himself raised. The chair set him down in the Quai des Orfevres, and he then got into a cabriolet which was waiting for him. As he was driv- ing off, he saw his daughter standing on the Quai, her hands clasped, fervently offering up her prayers to God. In the car- riage he threw off his female dress, and put on a livery ; and he was then conducted to a place of concealment, where he continued about three weeks, before measures could be con- certed for his making his escape out of France. A remarkable part of the story is, that this place, in which he lay three weeks concealed, Avas an apartment in the hotel of the due de Richelieu, the prime minister. The occupier of this part of the hotel was a M. Bresson, who held an offiow under the government, a man not supposed to have any pai ticular sympathies with the friends of Napoleon, but led tc risk the giving an asylum on this occasion to poor Lavallette by the having formerly had a similar good deed done to him- self. He had been a member of the national convention, and had spoken and voted against the death of Louis XVI. In the violent times which followed, he was outlawed, and was obliged to fly. He found a retreat in the mountains of the Vosges, in the home of some kind people who received and^ concealed both him and his wife. Madame Bresson then made a vow that if Providence should ever give her the op- portunity, she would endeavor to show her gratitude for thia preservation of herself and her husband, by saving the life of some other person in similar circumstances. One of Laval lette's friends, knowing that she had made this vow, applied to her now to fulfill it ; and both she and M. Bresson gladly consented to receive the fugitive, and took all possible care of him till he could leave Paris Two British officers, Sir Rob 'SoNV-I LOUIS XVIII. 575 ert Wilson and captain Hutchinson, and their friend, Mr Bruce, got him off to Mons in the disguise of an EngHsh officer of the guards ; and from Mons he went into Bavaria. Sir Bobert Wilson and his two friends were apprehended on the charge of having aided his escape ; and in the following year were tried and found guilty, and sentenced to three months' imprisoiuiient. After six years of exile, Laval] ette was permitted to return to France, and there passed the remainder of his days in re- tirement. He died in the spring of 1830. Mary. And I hope that he and his gallant Avife were at last all quite comfortable and happy together. But did not she go to him when he was in Bavaria ? 3Irs. M. Ah, my dear girl I there comes the sad part of the story. About five minutes after her husband's departure, the turnkey entered the prison, and there found madame La- vallette quite alone. She was kept six weeks in confinement, and is said to have been treated with coarseness and severity Either from this cause, or more probably from that extreme revulsion of spirits which often succeeds very violent agita tions of mind, she fell into a state of distressing melancholy and depression, from which she does not seem ever to have completely recovered. On her husband's return to Franco she is said not to have known him. She was at this timo living in some place of retreat for persons of deranged mind. At last her health recovered sufficiently to allow her husband to take her home. " Her deep melancholy," he says of her in his Memoirs, "throws her frequently into fits of abstraction ; but she is always equally mild, amiable, and good. We pass the summer in a retired country house, where she seems to enjoy herself." Lavallette himself did all that could be dono for her by care and affectionateness, and by devoting to her the life which she had saved.- Mary. This is, indeed, a most sad ending of the story : but still I hops that poor madame Lavallette's abstraction was not so great, but that she was awaie that heit husband %% last came back to her. CHAPTEPv XIJI. CHARLES X. ^Years after Christ, 1824—1830. The new sovereign of France was, in point of uudorsland- uig, very inferior to his brother ; but he was good-humored and affable, and had greatly endeared himself, during his exile in England, to all persons with whom he was in habits of society. His great misfortune was, that he was too much in- fluenced by the party of the ultra-royahsts. His first meas ure, however, in behalf of a considerable body of persons who were, mostly, members of that party, was by no means gener- ally unpopular. In 1825, an act was passed to indemnify the heirs, or. if still alive, the original proprietors, of the estates confiscated and sold during the Revolution, by granting them amiuities from the public funds. This tardy justice, a justice which, indeed, was not only tardy, but also imperfect (for the annui- ties granted are not supposed to have been real equivalents), was all that now remained to be done. This measure was highly acceptable to the existing possessors of the lands, who had often felt apprehensive that they themselves might be called oil to restore them, in case of the predominance of the aristocratical party. And the claim of the parties to whom the annuities were granted, was the more apparent, because the unsold lands had been previously restored, partly by Na poleon, and partly by Louis, to the rightful inheritors. . Thus far all went smoothly, but in the same year was un- fortunately commenced a system of hostility to the press and the popular party, which did not terminate but with the reign. In 1827, seventy-six new peers were created, for the purpose of increasing the influence of the crown in the cham- ber of peers. The chamber of representatives was also dis- solved, in the hope that the new elections would prove favor- able to the court. But these measures proved wholly unsuc- cessful. The result of the elections was to weaken instead of strengthening the ministers, who consequently resigned ; and the king was left, for the time, without any other resource than to appoint an administration composed of persons of more liberal politics. On the 8th of August, 1629, this administration was dis< solved, and a new one i.'opointed, which had for its head A.D. 1827.] CHARLES X. 577 prince Jules de Polignac, a person whose very name was ob- noxious to the people, from the recollections which it recalled of the influence supposed to have been exercised by his family over the mind of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette. Prince Jules, who was now recalled from England, where he was embassador, was received in Paris as the creature of the duke of Wellington, and the head of a faction supported by English intrigue. The popular leaders spread a general persuasion that the court would attempt to ru3e without a legislature, or, at least, to remodel the elective system to their own purposes, in some much more effective way than before. The chambers met March 2, 1830, and evidently showed that they shared these suspicions in no common degree. No act had yet proceeded from the new cabinet which could be construed into a direct attack on the public hberties ; but the address of the deputies, in answer to the speech from the throne, breathed so hostile a spirit, that the king again dissolved the chamber. A few days afterward new changes were made in the ministry. These, however, neither gave it strength, nor altered its character, and, in fact, argued little else than the imbecili- ty of a cabinet, which was perpetually shifting its members, without any visible object or efiect. The elections to the new chamber, which was appointed to meet on the 3d of August, augmented again the power of the opposition. What the result would be of its assembling under such circumstan- ces, it was impossible to anticipate without great apprehension. The general opinion was that the ministers would give way. If the voice of the chambers should still be against them, as would plainly be the case, they would be unable to carry their measures, except by force, and no preparation for the use of force was any where made. In 1827, the French government had sent a fleet, under admiral de Higny, to the coast of the Morea, for the purpose of joining the English in putting a stop to the barbarous warfare between the Greeks and the Turks. De Rigny, ani the English admiral, Codrmgton, acted in concert in the bat- tle fought in Navarino bay, in which the Turkish fleet was destroyed, and France, in like manner, subsequently became a party to the treaties by which Greece was finally extricated from the Turkish yoke, and made, at least ostensibly, an in depend6r<.t state. In the same year some disputes took place with Algiers, nd a blockading squadron was dispatched there to demand Bb S7S CHARLES X. [Chip. XLIi, satisfaction. Borae slight hostilities followed ; but these were only a prelude to the sending a formidable army there three years afterward. This army, which consisted of no less than ^7,000 men, sailed from Toulon on the 25th of May, 1830. It was com- manded by the comte de Bourmont, who had been originally a Vendean chief, but had tarnished his reputation by }u9 readiness to join all parties, and had been a Bourbonist and a Bonapartist by turns. On June 14th, after encountering much hazy and baffling weather, the army was landed on the coast of Africa, at about fifteen miles to the west of Algiers. On the 4th of July, as the French were preparing an assault against one of the forts, the dey sent a flag of truce to treat for peace, and the terms finally settled were, that the town should be delivered up to France, and that the inhabitants should retain their private property and personal liberty, to- gether with the free exercise of their religion. The dey him- self was expelled, and finally took up his abode at Naples. It had been originally announced that this expedition had been fitted out for the purpose of causing the French flag to be respected by the piratical states, and not with any viewtt a permanent conquest; but no disposition to abandon the ne"w colony thus acquired has yet been shown. The news of this success reached Paris on the 9th of July, and it was for a moment hoped that it might gain some popularity for the ministers. The pubUc feeling was, how- ever, by this time too much decided to be easily turned. Od the 26th the king issued six ordinances, by which the liberty of the press was abohshed ; the newly elected chamber of deputies dissolved, though it had not yet met ; a new mode of election appointel ; and several individuals very obnoxious to the people nominated as members of the council of state. The intelligence of this subversion (for it was nothing less) of the charter was first communicated to the public by the ap- pearance of the ordinances in the government newspaper Even marechal Marmont, who had the military command, and was the person to be rehed on to suppress any tumult or insurrection, had not been apprized of what was intended. The king passed the day in hunting, and the ministers, al- though some mobs collected in Paris, and broke lamps and windows, and threw stones at prince Polignac's carriage, were so blind to their danger that they even congratulated each other on the tranquiUity of the capital. But these coxjr gfjatulatious were very premature. •^a;''^P>^ ■jjsuiJirjt.ooixi e .a A..D. 1830.] CHARLES X. 579 During the whole of the next day the agitation went on in creasing. The military were called out, and in some plaesa the collected multitudes were charged hy the cavalry. In other places, after much forbearance, the streets were cleared by volleys of musketry. By these means a temporary repose was obtained at an early hour of the night, and the ministers again hoped that the contest was e^me to an end. Many persons also have thought that if the ensuing night had been passed by the government in active preparation for the" more serious contest of the next day, the insurrection might still have been suppressed. At an early hour of the morning of the 28th, large bodies of people were every where in motion. At nine o'clock the tricolor flag was seen to wave from the top of the cathedral of Notre Dame, and at eleven from the central tower of the Hotel de Ville. On this morning there also appeared in the throng several armed citizens arrayed in the old uniform of the national guard. The ministers declared the town in a state of siege, and Marmont, who had been disgusted at the weakness and precipitation which had brought affairs into this dangerous state, was now seriously alarmed for the result, and recommended to take measures of pacification. No at- tention was paid to this recommendation, and at mid-day he put the guards in motion. A series of contests ensued in all parts of the town, some of which lasted tiU late at night. The , troops fought under the disadvantage of being plunged in nar- row and crowded streets, in which, though, when they could act together, they surmounted all opposition, they were ex- posed to a harassing fire from the windows, and to the hurl- ing down on their heads of stones and tiles, or any other mis- siles that could be found. Even boiling water and oil were used as instruments of warfare on this occasion ; and it is said that one lady and her maid contrived to throw down a piano- forte on the heads of the adverse party in the streets. The scene on which the contest of this day took the most serious appearance was the Place de Greve, and the north end of Pont Notre Dame. Of these stations the guards took pos- session, though under a series of incessant attacks. But the troops of the line which had been appointed to support them refused to act, and the guards were therefore at length com- pelled to retire, first to the Hotel de Ville, and afterward td the Tuileries. There is no doubt that Marmont had exposed his trDops to these repulses by frittering them into small bodies , bat his heart had never been in the cause for which he was e50 CHARLES X [Cv . XLU figliting. He was pledged by the ofhoe wLich he bore to obej the orders of the government, but he saw and felt, at tb« same time, that it was going wrong. In the mean time, some of the deputies to the new cham- ber, which the king had dissolved, endeavored, but in vain, te restore tranquillity. They had assembled on the 27th, an^ Had protested against the fatal ordinances of the day before On the 28th a body of them proceeded to the Tuileries, ana had an audience with Marmont, who tried to persuade them to use their influence with the people to make them submit. They rephed that the ordinances must be repealed, and the ministers changed, before any conciliation could be attempted, and that if these things were not done, they must themselves take part agauist the government. Marmont wrote at five in the afternoon to the king, to express his opinion of the great danger of the crisis which had arrived, but received in return only an injunction to persevere in the use of force, and to act in larger masses than before. The night of the 29th was passed by the populace in erect- ing barricades across the principal streets, to hinder them from being penetrated or scoured by the troops. On the even- ing of the 27th they had made, in some places, a rude sort of blockade with carriages and omnibuses. They now broke up the pavement at intervals, and heaped it into mounds, which . they augmented with planks and pieces of furniture ; and they also cut down, and employed in the same manner, the trees of the Boulevards. All these preparations, however, were not brought to the trial. The soldiers, instructed by their expe- rience of the day before, did not attempt to penetrate again into the narrow streets, and maintained themselves during the whole of the morning of the next day in their positions. The populace made, however, several skirmishing attacks, and some of them fell by the fire of the guards. . The first approach to a decision of the contest was by the desertion of the regiments of the fine, at about noon of this day, the 29th. But before this was known, or during an in- terval in which the guards had been removed from their post, the populace made way into the garden in front of the Louvre, and thence, entering through the windows and glass doors, took possession of the whole interior of the edifice. The re- mainder of the guards were compelled to fly in disorder ; they rallied ibr a time in the Place de Carrousel, but were not sup- ported, and were again obhged to retire. Shortly afterwar'] Mannont relinquished the possession of the city to t!ip insixr A ». 1830.] tJHARLES X. 5»l gents. He wil\^dr> \f all the troops whom his orders could reach, and directed them to take the road to St. Cloud, in ordej to protect the person of the king. And thus, hy three in the afternoon, Paris was left entirely at the command of the populace. The ministers now tendered their resignations ; and the king, seeing the necessity of the c.ase, signed an order, by which he repealed the obnoxious decrees, and appointed a new ministry composed of men attached to popular principles. But before this order could be received in Paris, the Parisians had detennined that he should not be permitted to re-ascend the throne. As soon as the retreat of Marmont and his troops was as- certained, the deputies in Paris formed and proclaimed a pro- visional government. The national guard was called out, and general La Fayette was appointed to take the command. The personal influence and popularity of this veteran was exceedingly great with all classes of citizens. AU his orders were willingly obeyed ; and it is thought to have been greatly through the weight of his individual character that order and police were restored throughout the whole city before the close of the day. It is also remarked, that no instance has been recorded in which the disorder of these three days was made the occasion of any plunder, or of gratifying any private malice. Such was the revolution of the three days. Never before, probably, was any contest of so much moment, and so hotly contested, begun and ended so rapidly. There is a story of a party of Enghshmen, who had arrived in Paris, just at the time, on a tour of pleasure ; and who never found out what was going on. They perceived that there was a violent tu- mult, but being ignorant of the French language, did i. ot dis- cover its meaning, tUl they learned on their return home from the English newspapers, that they had been " assisting," as the phrase was, at a revolution. On the 30th of July, the deputies invited the duke of Or- leans to place himself at the head of the government, with the title of Ueutenant-general of the kingdom. The duka 'accepted the offer without delay ; and on the following morn- ing issued a proclamation announcing his appointment, and adding, that the chambers were about to assemble, to con sider of the means to secure the reign of the laws, and the. maintenance of the rights of the nation, and that the chartei should henceforward be a reality. He afterward mA th«. 482 CHARLES X. .Chap. XlII depatles and the members of the provisional government at the Hotel de Ville, and pledged himself still more strongly t* the most popular principles. In the mean time, the intelligence of these events was joy- fully received, as it spread into all parts of the kingdom. The tri-color flag waved every where. The troops submitted to the orders of the new government, the guards only continuing ■o far their adherence to the court as to deem it their duty ■till to protect the person of the sovereign. AU further con- test was hopeless. The court withdrew on the 31st of July from St. Cloud to Trianon, and on the following day to Ram- bouiUet.* Here, on the 2d of August, the king and the aauphin signed an act of abdication, the one of the crown itself, the other of his right of succession, in favor of the king's infant grandson the duke of Bordeaux, the son of the unfor- tunate due de Berri. This act of abdication the king ad- dressed to the duke of Orleans, and required him to proclaim the accession of Henry V. No such resource, however, to save the crown for this last scion of the direct stock of the Bourbons was now available. The duke of Orleans, either in liis eagerness to be king himself, or because he felt that the proposition came too late, suppressed, in announcing the king's and the dauphin's abdication, the stipulation coupled with it as to the duke of Bordeaux. But that the stipulation had been made was publicly known, and the news threw the cap- ital again into some confusion. The mob prepared in thousands to march to Rambouillet, in probably much the same temper in which, in the disas- trous period of August, 1789, another mob of Paris had marched to VersaiDes. But the king, though he had still guards who might, and probably would have defended him successfully against an undisciplined multitude, determined not to prolong an unavailing resistance. He set out for Cher- bourg, and on the next day dismissed his guards, retaining only a small escort. After a journey in which he was every where treated with respect, but not received with any indica- tions of attachment, he arrived at that port August 15th. He reached England on the 17th, and, after a short residence at Lulworth castle in Dorsetshire, proceeded to Edinburgh, where the ancient palace of Holyrood, wliich had been his place of abode during a great part of his former exile, now once more afforded him an asylum. The chamber of deputies proceeded on the 6th and 7t}i ot . * Southwest of Paris A.D. 1850.. CHARLES X r>B3 August to revise the charter, and to make the formal apptiiit- ment of the new sovereign. They declared the throne to be vacant ; that not only the Roman Catholic, but that all min- isters of Christianity (and to these were added at a latei period those of the Jews) should be supported at the public expense ; and that all the peerages granted during the reign of Charles X. should be null and void. Finally they resolved that Louis Philippe, duke of Orleans, should be called to the throne, by the title not of king of France, but king of the French, in the same maimer in which Napoleon had been entitled emperor of the French, not of France ; and that he should be succeeded by his descer^darits in the direct male line only, in the order of birth. These resolutions of the house of deputies were transmitted on the same day (August 7) to the chamber of peers, though rather as a matter of courtesy than with any recognition of that house as possessing an independent voice in the legisla- ture. The viscount Chateaubriand spoke, but in vain, in behalf of the claims of the duke of Bordeaux. The declara- tion of the deputies was adopted, and on the 9th the constitu- ticm, as thus created, was formally tendered to, and accepted bj the new sovereign. Charles X. died at Goritz in Carniola, November 6th, 1836, and his son, the due d'Angouleme, who, as I have already said, had renounced the succession for himself, immediately proclaimed the duke of Bordeaux king of France and Navarre, by the title of Henry V. Louis Philippe was bom at Paris, October 6th, 1773. When he was nine years old, his education was confided to the celebrated comtesse de Genlis. In 1791, being then duo le Chartres, he commande'^ a regiment of dragoons, and in 1792 he served as lieutenant-general under Dumouriez, and distinguished himself in the battle of Jemappes, which was fought that year against the Austrians. In 1793, finding that there was no longer any safety in France for a prince of his family, he emigrated to Switzerland. He afterward vis ited Norway and Sweden; and in 1796 took refuge in the United States of America, where he was joined in the follow- ng year by his two brothers, the due de Montpensier, and the comte de Beaujolais. In 1800 the three brothers came to England, where they established themselves for some years in a villa at Twickenham. During these years the duke of Orleans visited many parts of England, and impressed all who becami! acai'^inted with him with a very high ojunion dS4 CHARLES X. [Chap. Xl.U of liis abilities. After the fall of Napoleon lie returned tc Paris, and the command of the department of the North wag intrusted to him by Louis XVIII. during the early part of the eventful year 1815. But on the second restoration, the part which he took with the liberal or popular party offended the court, and he cons&> quently found himself obliged to retire into private life, in which hp continued till placed on the throne by the Revolu- tion of 1830. Whether he did wisely to exchange for that fatiguing and hazardous station, the peaceful enjoyment of the resources of his well-stored mind, and of his ample fortune, can only be known by those who can determine whether he acted from a sense of duty to his country, or from the tempta- tion of personal aggrandizement. The due de Montpensier, the next brother of Louis Phihppe, died in the year 1807, and the comte de Beaujolais, his other brother, soon afterward. Louis Philippe married in 1809 the princess Amelia, daugh- ter of the king of Sicily, by whom he has had seven children : — (1.) Ferdinand, due d'Orleans, bom September 3, 1810, died July 13, 1842. (2.) Louisa, born April 3, 1812. (3.) Louis Charles, due de Nemours, born October 25, 1814. (4.) Mavia Clementina, duchess of Beaujolais, born January 3, 1817. (5.) Francis, prince of Joinville, bom August 14 1818. (6.) Henry. (7.) Anthony Maria, duke of Montpen- sier, born July 31, 1824. The eldest son, the duke of Orleans, married Helena Louisa, princess of Mecklenburg, by whom he has left two sons : — (1.) Louis Philip Albert, count of Paris, born August 24, 1S38. (2.) Robert Philip, duke of Chartres, bom Novem- ber 9, 1840. Louisa married in 1832, Leopold, king of Belgium, and has children. The due de Nemours married Victoria Augusta, princess of Saxe Coburg, and has one son, Louis Philippe^ count of £u. CHAPTER XLIII. LOUIS PHILIPPE. [Years after Christ, 1830—1848.] CBY THE EDITORO The elevation of Louis Philippe to the throne of Franc* was one of the most extraordinary and romantic changes in the personal history of an individual that has ever occurred. He had been, during the long years of his banishment from his native land, involved in extreme embarrassments and dif- ficulties, and was often exposed to great dangers. In Switz- erland, he was at one time reduced to the necessity of pro- viding for his own support by teaching a village-school. It was necessary, while doing this, that it should not be known who he was, as his enemies in Paris were intent upon his destruction. He accordingly assumed the fictitious name of Corby, and did every thing in his power to avoid having his trae rank and character known. He found, however, that all his precautions were not suf- ficient to secure his safety here, and he determined on going to America. But he was so reduced in his pecuniary cir- cumstances, that he could not raise funds to pay for his passage, and his long and unhappy wanderings in Denmark, Sweden, and Norway, were caused by his not being able either to leave the continent of Europe, or to remain in safety in any but the most remote and wildest portions of it. At last, however, he received a small supply of funds from his mother, and eagerly availed himself of the opportunity thus afforded him of going to America. He remained in America four years, and. although he received occasional re- mittances from his relatives and friends in France, he suffered a great deal of poverty and distress. He employed himself eometimes as a teacher of the French language, as the only means by which he could procure subsistence. When, therefore, by the revolution of 1830, he was re> stored to his former fortunes, and placed upon the French throne, he found that from being a houseless and homeless wandf^rer, hunted, in poverty and distress, from country to 386 . LOUIS PHILIPfE. Chap. XLIIL country by implacable foes, he had suddenly become the most wealthy ai!*l powerful personage in Europe, and perhaps in the world. The character which Louis Philippe had formed in his adversity was such as to inspire great confidence in his honesty of purpose, and in his capacity to reign. He soon showed that he was very firm and decided in his moral and religious principles, very temperate in all his pleasures, do- mestic in his attachments, and strongly disposed to discounte- nance vice and immorality of every form. His wife, Ameha, joined him in these efibrts, and during his whole reign the family were greatly respected by aU mankind for their per- sonal worth. During all this period the Tuileries present- ed a scene of peace, and harmony, . and domestic virtue, and happiness, which royal palaces have seldom held up to view. By the constitution which the French people adopted, when Louis PhiHppe began to reign, only a veiy small part of the population were allowed to vote at the elections. They styled Louis Philippe King of the French, and not King of France, as it had been of old ; intimating, by this expression, that he derived his power from the action of the people, instead of being king by virtue of some divine and hereditary relation to the domain. The " French," how- ever, who thus upheld the new throne, were very feiv, compared with the great mass of the population. There were, perhaps, 70,000 who were entitled to vote, out of 35,000,000. These voters elected the members of the chamber of deputies, which, in connection with the cham- ber of peers, constituted the great legislative power of the realm. There were now two courses of policy open before the king in the management of his kingdom. The people were very restless and uneasy ; divided into parties, each advocating its own peculiar system. One after another of these parties had been in the ascendant, until nearly all had tried, in vain, to manage public affairs. And now that the whole vast naval and military power is placed in the hands of Louis PhiHjpe, there are two courses that he may pursue. He may consider that some one strong central power is necessary to preserve order and maintain industry, in such a mass as the population of France. If so,. he will consider him- self and his dynasty — ^that is, the series of heirs which should foUow him in the succession — as that central power, and do \.D. 184S.J LOUIS PHILIPPE 5Sl all that lie can to strengthen and confirm this dynasty's posi- tion and power, drawing away for this purpose as much as possible of the power ami influence of the populace. Or, he may consider, Vhat, in the present age of the world, and with the present tendency to resist arbitrary and irre- sponsible rule, there could be no permanency in the govern- ment of France, until the power should be distributed through- out the community, and be shared by all who were interested in its exercise. If this were the view that he should take, he would widen and extend the suffrage, bring larger and larger masses of men to the exercise of it, and thus gradually and discreetly, so as not to compromise the public safety by too sudden changes, distribute the power among those who are, after all, the real principals, for whose benefit government shotdd be exercised. Louis Philippe decided in favor of the former of these plana — i. e. to centralize and strengthen as fast as possible his own power. He appointed his ministers, but insisted on directing all their movements, instead of leaving them, as is usual with royal cabinets, to manage public afiairs in their own way. One of them, in resisting this system, told him that " kings ehould reign, not govern." But Louis Philippe was not satis fied with reigning. He must-govern. He did govern, during the whole continuance of his power, with great energy, and, as has been generally admitted, with consummate skill. At the time that he commenced to reign, the French were at war with Algiers, a semi-barbarous nation on the African shores of the Mediterranean sea. The city of Algiers had been taken, and the plan had been formed of reducing the whole country to the condition of a French colony. Loui.s Philippe's government prosecuted this plan with great energy The cost in money, and the sacrifice of life were both enor- mous ; and the plans of the French were, for a long time, baffled by Abd-el-Kader, the great Arab general, whose in- domitable perseverance it seemed nothing could subdue. He submitted, however, at last, and the whole country became a French province. Another of the great measures of Louis Philippe's reign was what was called the fortification of Paris. The works comprise a very extended chain of walls, forts, bastions, and towers, extending all around the city, at a distance of a few miles from it, with barracks connected with them capable of containing a very effective garrison. The building of these fortifications was much opposed by a large portion of tha SB8 LOUIS PHILIPPE, :Chap. XLUi people of France. The ostensible design was to defend thf Napoleon 545 QUESTIONS FOR THE EXAMINATION OF PUPILS. CHAPTER I. (P. ll). What are the natural boundaries of France? What is said of its climate ? (P. 14). What of its inhabitants ? How was France formerly divided ? How is it divided now ? When was the change made ? Why was it made 1 From whom do we have the earliest knowledge of France 1 What was France then called? (P. 15). On what rivers did the Franka originate ? Were they friends or enemies of the Romans ? Where did they establish their capital ? To what river did Childeric extend the ter- ritories of tjie Franks ? Describe the course of tlie Loire. What was the name of the city of Paris in Caesar's time ? Of what did it then consist ? (P. 16). To what part of the country were the Romans at last confined? What important province was situated there ? Into how many states was Gaul thus divided in those days 1 Who at length became its sole masters ? When was the Roman power in Armorica finally extinguished ? By whom ? WTien was Christianity introduced into France ? Conversation on Chapter I. What is said of the antiquities at Nismes ? (P. 17). Of those on tne banks of the RhonB ? Describe the amphitheater of earth in Normandy. What is Cisalpine Gaul? What does the word Cisalpine mean? What were the causes of the overthrow of the Roman Empire? (P. 18). What is the word Goth derived from ? What character are the Franks said to have possessed? What weapons did they use ? (P. 19). To what degree did slavery exist among the Franks ? Describe Roman life in Gaul. (P. 20). What was the religion of the Gauls ? CHAPTER II. What were the circumstances of Clevis's conversion to Christianity? (P. 21). What was the capital city of Clovis ? With what nation did he make war ? What was their capital city ? What was Clovis's pretext for saying that lie had the authority of God for undertaking the war? What incident took place at the river Vienne ? What was the result of the campaign against the Visigoths? (P. 22). How long did Clovis reign? How many sons did he leave ? Which of them at last became sole mon- arch of France ? What was thfe character of Clothaire ? How long did he reign ? (P. 23). In what year did Dagobert I. begin to reign ? What was his character ? Whatwas the condition of France during his reign? What waa the character of his immediate successors ? (P. 24). What have those Buccessors been called ? What was the office of Pepin d'Heristal ? Who succeeded him ? What great enemy had Charles Martel from the south 7 How far did they advance ? When did Charles Martel become nominally king ? What was the name of the d3maBty thus terminated ? (P. 2S) What was the origin of the name of the province of Bretagne ? Conversation on Chapter II. (P. 2£). What information is niven about the histories of France? Give an ajcount of the formation of the French language ? (P. 27). In what state was the Latin language preserved at Rome ? What is the Silver Book ? O^n vou givd t^«s "vigin of the word mayor? (P. 28). What important 604 QUESTIONS. provision of the Salic law is here mentioned? How tas this resahed ia the succession to the throne of France ? CHAPTEK, III. (P. 30j. What ceremony did King Pepin introduce at his coronation 1 What is said of the phial ? "What war broke out in Italy at this time T How was King Pepin drawn into this war? What was the result of his intei-position ? (P. 31). When did Pepin die ? Who succeeded him ?_ Did they agree? How was the dispute terminated? By what name is the Charles whose reign then commenced generally known? Whtt is said of the importance of his reign? What was Charlemagne's character? Describe his person ? What was his iirst militai-y enterprise ? Was it successful? (P. 32). Where was Charlemagne crowned iu Italy? Did he subdue the whole of Italy ? What was the exception ? Describe his expedition into Spain. Wliat took place on his return ? Who was Tassi Ion? Where is Bavaria? What were the Ringes ? What event took place in 799 ? What was the consequence of the interview between Leo and Charlemagne? What plan did Charlemagne form for adding the Eastern Empire to his own ? Did his plan succeed ? (P. 34). What took place between Charlemagne and the Normans ? How did he divide his kingdom between his sons ? Describe the circumstances of his sickness and death. (P. 35). Describe the burial of Charlemagne. What was the extent of his dominions at his death ? What change took place during bis life, in respect to the mode of reckoning dates ? Conversation on Chapter III. (P. 36). How does Charlemagne compare with Alfred? What is said of his industry? (P. 37). Describe his dress. What was his dispositior toward reading ? What is said of his attempts to learn to write ? _ Why was he not taught when young ? How was he disposed toward his chil- dren ? (P. 38). What is said of the Roncevalles light ? What is the origin of Charles's name Martel? (P. 39). What does href, Pepin's name mean? Relate the anecdote of Pepin's prowess. Wliat public meetings are here mentioned? (P. 40). WTiat account is given of the origin of the pope's power ? WTiat was now the state of learning in Arabia ? (P. 41). Da scribe the water-clock. Describe the iron crown of Lombardy. CHAPTER rV. (P. 42). Wbo succeeded Charlemagne ? Was Louis popular among hi» subjects? W"hat was his real character? (P. 43). How did the quarrel between Louis and his sons arise ? How long did it continue ? When did Louis die ? What took place in Spain during the difficulties between Louis and his sons? (P. 44). WTiat is said of the battle of Fontenay? Who was the victor? How was the quarrel settled? WTiat part of tho empire was assigned to Lothaire ? What did Louis receive ? WTiat was done with the rest ? What were the Normans now doing ? WTiat w^as their object in their contest with France ? (P. 45). What establishments did the Normans particularly attack ? Why ? What measures did Charles take to free the country from these Normans ? Was he successful ? What was the character of Lothaire ? What became of his kingdom after his death ? (P. 46). Describe the circumstances of the death of Charles the B aid. Who inherited his dominions ? How long did Louis II. reign ? How was the empire of Charlemagne united ? Conversation on Chapter IV. (P. 47). Were the Normans and Danes the same ? Why did not Franco defend herself? (P. 49). What is said of the scribes ? "What language was used in Uie court of Charlemagne ? How were several languages liera mentioned, nnnied? (P. 50). What is said of the subseqvent prosperity of the three divisions of Charlemagne's empire ? QUESTIONS. bOi CHAPTER V. (1'. 51). What was th'5 general character of Cnailes the Fat? Whai Was the exteut of Paris, at the time here spoken of? What was done to defend it against the Normans ? Who was the jirominent person in con- ducting the defense ? (P. 52). What did Charles do to release Paris from the attack of the Normans ? Describe the close of his life. Were the possessions of (Charles divided after his death, or did they descend as one kingdom to his successor ? Who received the German and Italian domin- ions of Charles the F at ? Why did he not also receive the crown of Fra-ace ? Who was chosen king of France ? How much of France did he receive 7 What was the state of that part which Eudes possessed? Did the Nor- mans continue to plunder France ? Who checked them ? Where did they go next'? Who checked them there? (P. 53). What took place in the kingdom of Eudes during his absence? Was Charles the Siraple able to take an active part in governing his kingdom? Why not? W"hat agree- ment did Charles and Eudes finally make? When and how did Charles receive all the ten-itoi-y of Fraflce ? WTiat agreement did he make with Bollo? Describe the results of his measures. (P. 54). What sort of a ruler did Rollo prove to be ? What wise measures of his are spoken of? Who succeeded him ? Was Charles as prudent and successfiil as Rollo T Who attempted to become king in his place ? What became of this Rob- ert? What was the conduct of his son Hugh with respect to the crown? What was the result of the struggle between Charles and Rodolph? During the reign of Rodolph who managed the goveniment ? After the death of Ro- dolph what persons did Hugh send for? Where were they? How was it that they resided in England ? Did they return to France ? (P. 55). What was the character of Louis the Stranger? How did the civil war arise, between Louis and Hugh? What part in it did William Longsword and Arnulf take? Wliat became of William Longsword? To what danger was his son Richard exposed ? Describe his rescue. (P. 56). Who took Louis prisoner? On what condition did he release him? What became of Richard? What is said of his character and personal appeai-ance? Give the story about the stone coffin. What caused the death of Louis ? What sons did he leave ? What was done with his kingdom ? Why was it not divided ? What important change in the manner of transferring the crown from father to son was now made ? What is said of the early part of the reign of Louis ? What does the word tutelage mean? (P. 58). Describe the attack which Lothaire made upon Otho 11. Describe the retaliation of Otho. What did he do by way cf bravado ? What were the circumstances ander which Lothaire attacked him ? What was the result of the battle ? (P. 57). What proposal did Otho make ? Was his plan a common way of settling disputes in those days? Was it adopted in this case, or not? Who opposed it ? How was the quarrel settled ? Mention the facts stated respecting Louis V. What is said of Charles, Duke of Lorraine 1 What ii caid of the Carlovingian kings as a race ? Conversation on Chapter V. Why did not Hugh the Fair take the ci-own of France as his own? Wliat is said of his mamage and wives? (P. 5D). What were his sur- •lames ? What is said here of the Normans ? What of Rollo in particu- lar ? Give the story about the ceremony of kissing the king's foot. (P. 60). Wliat is said of the custom of dueling? How were persons of the same Christian name distinguished in those days ? Why was Conrade called the Pacific? Describe the state of society in those days. (P. 61) How was trade conducted at that time ? How were the contests among the various warriors generally r.arried on ? Describe the Chateau GaUlanL What does this name mean ? Who laid s?ege to it ? \Miat was tha cause of its suri-ender? bfle QUESTIONS CHAPTER VI. (P. ti4). What term is applied to the character of Hugh Capet? /Wha! reason did he give for refusing to be crowned as king ? (P. 65). What is mentioned as the excuse of the French for rejectuig Charles, Duke of Lor- raine ? AVhat course did he take with reference to Hugh Capet? Did he employ amis or artifice in his attempt to gain the throne ? How did he gain possession of Laon? Describe the fraud of Arnolf. (P. 66). How did Hugh succeed in his siege ? Give the substance of his letter to the Bishop of Treves. How did he finally get possession of Laon? What became of Charles and Arnolf? What diflSculties did Hugh find in gov- erning his kingdom ? (P. 67). Name the eight principalities of that time. Who succeeded Hugh Capet? What has the tenth century been called ? Why? Conversation on Chapter VL What do historians say was the origin of the name Capet ? What la said of the degi*ees of raik? On what principle were the degrees regu- lated ? What are fiefs ? What are vassals ? What are peers ? Into what two classes were the peers of France divided ? Name the lay peers The ecclesiastical peers. Describe the ceremony of doing homage. WTiat oaths were taken? (P. 70). What is said of Gebert, Hugh's secretary? "Wliat did Sismondi compare him to? WTiat is said of his boyhood? Why did he go to Spain ? How was he received on his return to France ? (P. 71). Who gave him the office of secretary? Why did he leave Hugh Capet ? What position did he at last attain? What efiect did the plague which visited France duiing the tenth century have npon the warlike habits of its nobles ? CHAPTEll VII. (P. 72). At what age did Robert the Pious ascend the throne ? What was his personal appearance ? What was the character of his mind ? (P. 73). What was the nature of the difficulty respecting Robert's marriage ? What measures were taken to oblige Robert to obey the Catholic law ? What was the final result? WTio was the second wife of Robert? Describe her conduct and occupations. How did Robert employ himself? How was the intelligence from Palestine received in Europe? Whv were the Jews persecuted ? What advice did Sylvester II. give ? Wha' was the cause of the quarrel between Robert and Otho William ? What Btory is told of the first battle ? What was the final result ? How many children did Robert leave ? Who succeeded him ? Why was the third Bon chosen ? Give an account of the quarrel and reconciliation between Richard III. and Robert. Conversation on Chapter VII. (P. 76). What is faither said of the character and habits of Robert? Give the story of the beggar. (P. 77). Relate the story of the thief at mass. What is the next anecdote illustrating his liberality ? Relate the two anecdotes of the king's music. (P. 78). WTiat was the theory with regard to the end of the world at that time ? What effect did 't have 1 (P. 79). What prevented a famine temporarily? CHAPTER VIIL (P. 80). Did Henry meet with any opposition in mounting his fathers •trone ? Whose protection did he seek ? Was Henry or Constance vic- torious? How did Henry satisfy his brother? (P. 81). What plan did Robert of Normandy form to atone for the murder of his brother? WTiaf Were liis wishes respecting his son ? What difficulty did he foresee ? la ^hose care did he place his son ? Were the claims of his son opposed i QUESTIONS. tiOf By whom? "What was the relationship between Manger and jroung William? (See p. 75). What success did his opposition meet withi What character did William exhibit ? Where did he afterward distinguisfa himself? What is said of the close of Henry's life ? (P. 82). What was the state of the Chm-ch at this time ? What is said of Benedict IX. 1 What is said of Leo IX.? What important act of his is here mentioned ? What is meant by simony ? Conversation on Chapter VIII. (P. 83). What is said of the institution of chivalry? What is the common opinion as to its origin ? Describe the ceremonies of knighting a noble- man. (P. 54). What were the essential points in the education of boys at that time ? What is said of their domestic duties ? (P. 85). How did the spirit of chivalry affect the lower classes of people ? (P. 86). What were the regulations in regard to fighting? (P. 87). Was the science of geogra- phy much known at this time ? What does the canon of Bremen say of Sweden and Norway ? How does he describe the inhabitants of Russia ? CHAPTER IX. (P. 88). Who was the guai-dian of Philip I. ? Under what circumstanceai did he begin to reign ? What character did he exhibit ? Whom did he at- tack in Flanders ? (P. 89). How did Philip close his quarrel with Robert? What is said of his man-iage ? What nation, at this time, began to rouse the fears of Europe ? How did Alexis Comnenus feel and act ? What did Urban II. do ? What is said of Peter the Hermit ? What was the condi- tion of France during the preparations for the crusade ? What division of the crusaders was made ? Describe the march of the first division. (P. 91). How wei'e they treated by the nations through whose possessions they passed ? Why was the other part of these crusaders divided ? Name as many of the commanders as you can. (P. 92). How did Alexis receive (.hem, when they reached Constantinople ? What was the result of their expedition to Jerusalem? Who commanded the second expedition ? What became of it? (P. 93). What was the state of things in France at this t)eriod ? Who had possession of Normandy ? Wlio defended the territories of France against his incursions? What other enemies did Louis have to contend against, after the death of William Rufus ? What was the state ■of feeling between Louis and Bei-trade? What was the character of Louis? Was he popular? (P. 94). What desire did Philip express in reference to his burial ? Describe the coin that he introduced. What was the extent of the sovereignty of France at that time ? Conversation on Chapter IX. (P. 95). Give as much information as you can about the division of France after the death of Philip. What parts of France have been possessed by the King of England ? Recount the circumstances which led to the founda- tion of the kingdom of the Two Sicilies. (P. 96). What was the character of Robert Guiscard ? What was that of Boemond ? What stratagem did he employ for returning from Antioch to Sicily? (P. 97). What anecdotes are given of the insolent conduct of the crusaders ? (P. 98). Why were coats of arms and family surnames assumed by the nobility ? (P. 99). What is said of the invention of the tournament ? — of its laws ? — of the weapons used ? (P. 100). Were the expenses of the tournament great ? Desciiba the cm-ious shoes worn at this time. CHAPTER X. (P. 102). What expedient had the lords around Paris resorted to for iLe Bake of gaining wealth? What course did Louis take with regard to those robbers ? Wh^t foreign enemy did Louis attack ? Which of the two kings -proved the conqueror ? Who arranged a peace between them ? Was this peace permanent? (P. 103) Was Lcais able to defend himself ag^aiusl 608 QUESTIONS. the King of England and tht Emperor of Germany? To what nietns did he resort to gain assistance 1 What was the result ? Describe the cir- cumstances of the death of the son of Bonis. How did this affect Louis ? (P. 104). How was Stephen received by the Normans ? 'Why f'id they dis- like Geoffry ? Which party did the Duke of Aquitaine join 1 What was his conduct ? How did his cruelty afterward appear to him ? What did he do to relieve his conscience ? How did he provide for his family ? (P. 105). How did Louis secure the good-will of the meixhants and towns people ? Describe the communes ? What were the effects of the king's management? Conversation on Chapter X. (P. 106). Was Louis specially interested in the cultivation of leaniine J What cause tended to increase the general love for learning ? (P. 107). What two men are mentioned as eminent for scholarship, at this period 1 What is said of the Abb6 Segur ? What of Abelard ? To what sort of literature were the nobles dovoted? Describe the troubadours. (P. 109). What is said of the language of Provence? How is the poetry of the troubadours described ? What were the trouveres ? How did they differ from the troubadours ? What is the meaning of their name ? How are the courts for the trial of wit described ? CHAPTEB, XL (P. 110). What was the general character of Louis VII.? What is said of his early life? (P. 111). What two enemies did Louis VII. make? What induced him to make peace with Thibaud ? What was the intelli- fence which put a stop to the quarrels in Normandy and the south of 'ranee? (P. 112). How did the people feel towai'd the new crusade? What was the opmion of Segur ? Why did Louis choose to travel by land instead of by sea ? (P. 113). How were the French received at Constanti- tiople ? To what place did they next proceed ? What question arose about the road ? Which route did Louis take ? (P. 114). How long did he pursue it? Give an account of the battle mentioned, and of his subsequent difficulties. What led the remainder of the army to select Gilbert as their leader? (P. 115). When Louis had reached Satalia, how did he decide to proceed ? What became of the soldiers ? Give an account of the remain- der of this expedition. How was Louis received in France on his return ? What changes in disposition did he manifest ? (P. 116). After Eleanor was divorced from Louis, whom did she marry? What were the posses- sions of Henry Plantagenet ? W^hat were the feelings of Louis toward nim? How long did the wars between these two last? What part did Louis take in the war between Henry and his sons ? What artifice did he make use of in order to gain possession of Vemeuil ? (P. 118). How did he attempt to take Rouen? (P. 119). What statements are made with refer- ence to the coronation of Philip? How did he treat his mother? Who was his chief coins elor? (P. 119). What was the last act of Louis ? Conversation on Chapter XI. What is said of tho Albigenses ? How did the pope proceed against them? (P. 120). How were the Jews treated? What was the story of the oriflamme? (P. 121). What was the story of St. Martin's banner" What is said of the condition of Paris ? Of its extent ? Of its govern- ment? (P. 122). What was now the state of affairs in Italy? What names were given to the two parties in the controversy there 7 Give the origin of these names. Describe the combat between the two blind men and the pig. Describe that between the attendants of th^ pope and tho monks of St. Genevieve. How did it end ? (P. 124). Give an account of the Child'* Crusade. What was the end of it? QUESTIONS. S09 CHAPTER XII. {f "^iS). What is said of the government of Philip Augustus T What .Jiis \«is character? What was his principal motive of action? What -aosej of difficulty arose between Henry and Philip ? (P. 126). Where did Ihey :x)nimonly hold their conferences '! What did Philip do to this elm ? For what rgason did he exhibit great friendship with Prince Richard? What plan for a crusade did they form ? What broke up their entei-prise ? What did they do in the spring? Was the unpleasant feeling betweec the two kings strengthened or' diminished at Acre ? How did they act there? (P. 127). What caused Philip to return to Europe? What oath did he first take ? Why did he stop in Rome ? How did Richard's success affect him ? W^hat course did he take on hearing of Richard's imprison- ment ? Was he successful in his plans ? After the release of Richard, what was the state of things between the two kings? (P. 128). What is said of the two marriages which Philip contracted ? After the death of Richard of England, who took possession of his dominions ? What became of Arthur of Bi-etagne? How did Philip obtain possession of Normandy? (P. 129). Who encouraged him to invade England ? How was he resti-ain- ed ? What territory did he invade ? What recalled him from Flanders ? What confederacy was foi-med against him ? Where did the first important battle take place ? Give as full an account of this battle as you can. (P. 131). What was the state of the war with the Albigenses at this time ? VVho conducted the persecutions ? How came Prince Louis to invade En- gland ? What did his father say to it ? How came the English to declare against him? (P. 132). Describe the plan, success, and final result of the fifth crusade. What were Philip's feelings in regard to his wealth ? What did he do ? What new military an-angements did Philip introduce 'ito France ? Conversation on Chapter XII. (P. 133). Was crusading particularly attractive to the French people? Who founded the four principalities in the East, here mentioned? What is said of Saladin ? After Richard returned, how did the crusaders prosper ? To what city did they next turn their steps? How was Constantinople situated ? Who became masters of Constantinople ? About how long did the empire of Constantinople remain to them ? What is said of the closing years of Baldwin II.? (P. 135). Give the anecdote of the return of the pretended Baldwin. (P. 136). After his death, how was Jane regarded by the people ? W hat measures did she take to free herself from the odium which she had iiicun-ed ? (P. 137). How was Philip Augustus regarded by the people ? WTiat did he do for Paris ? Give an account of the pavement ; of the wall; of the Louvre; of the remaining improvements. {P. 13t). What is said of tihe progress of learning in these days ? What were Phi! in's own tastes ? What is said of the I'omances of that day? CHAPTER XIIL (P. 139). What circumstance led Philip to omit crowning his son befoio his death? What was the character of 'Louis VIII.? (P. 140). Describe his coronation. Did Henry of England attend it? Give an account of the desertion of Savaiy in the following war. What war did Philip enter into next? (P. 141). Describe the siege of Avignon. What were the circum stances of the king's death ? Conversation on Chapter XIII, (P. 142). Describe Jersey. What is said of Guernsey? Of Sark and Alderney ? What is the language of these islands? I)o they most re- semble the French or English? (P. 143). What was the success of. tha first expedition of the French against Jersey? Describe the second of the life of Madame de Maintenon. What particulars of the plague a< Marseilles are given ? (P. 463.) How was its violence diminished? Whaf is said of the life of prince Eugene ? What is the story of the man in the iron mask ? (P. 464). Who has he been supposed to be ? What is the story of his falling into the hands of Louis ? (P. 465). Describe his journey to the isle of St. Margaret. What privileges were at last granted to him ? (P. 466). What precautions did the king take to prevent any one fi-om finding out who he was ? CHAPTER XXXVI. (P. 467). What was the situation of France after the peace of Aix-la- Chapelle ? (P. 468). What is said of the origin of the Seven Years' War? How came Louis to make peace with Austria, and oppose Prussia? De- sci-ibe the events of the naval contest. (P. 469). What was the success of the king of Prussia ? What reason had he for wishing to bring the war to an end as speedily as possible ? What was probably the intention of the French govemm*iit in joining in this war ? Did they giin possession of Hanover? (P. 470). What is said of the subsequent conduct of the king of Prussia ? How was he saved from final defeat ? After the death of the czar what was the political influence of Catherine II.? (P. 471). What was the subsequent success of the French arms in Germany? What were the results of the war with England? What was the family compact? What was its effect? (P. 472). What were the conditions of the peace ? What is said of Corsica ? What were the objects of the administration of the due de Choiseul ? WTiat is said of the Jesuits ? (P. 473). How did the QUESTIONS. 6-25 contest between the crown atid the parliament result ? Of what disease did Louis die ? (P. 474). What is said of his character? What class of lit- erary men ai'ose in France at this time? What seems to have been the object of their labors ? Who were the most eminent? (P. 475). What is said of Voltaire ? What of llousseau ? CO;fVERSATIOtf ON CHAPTER XXXVI. %Vhat description is given of the dauphin ? (P. 476). Give an account of his death. What is said of the marchioness of Pompadour? Describe the retirement of the due de Choiseul. (P. 477). "What effect had his dismissal from com-t on the prosperity of France ? What is said of the taste displayed m those days? (P. 478). Describe the dress of the ladies. How was the city of Paris improved? Describe the equestrian statue of Louis XV. (P. 479). What was the character of the king of Prussia? What was probably the cause of the faults in his disposition ? Describe the manner in which his father treated him. (P. 480). How was he punished for planning an escape to England ? Describe the manner of his release. What is said of his life as a king? Describe his manner of reading. (P. 4S1). What were some of his favorite books ? What anecdote is told illustrative of his indifTerenca to dress ? Describe his usual dress. (P. 482). Repeat Segur's description of his appearance. What is said of his wit? — of his fondness for dogs ? CHAPTER XXXVIL (P. 483). What were the disposition and character of Louis XVI.? (t <84). What is said of Turgot and Necker? W"hat was the state of things between France and England ? What is said of the treaty between France and the United States? What account is given of the naval combat off Ushant? (P. 485). What part in these difficulties did Spain take? How were the movements of the French and Spanish fleet at first governed? Describe the passage of the three fleets up the Channel. (P. 486). What are mentioned as the chief events of the year 1780 ? What was the result of the action between de Grasse and Rodney? (P. 487). What account of the treaty of peace is given? What was the situation of the French gov emment after the conclusion of the war? What was the plan of M. Ca- lonne for relieving the pecuniaiy embaiTassments of France ? (P. 488). What must be done before the nation could be safely taxed? What difh- culties were in the way of assembling the States- General ? Why would it not answer Calonne's purpose to appeal to Parliament? What was the result of convening the Notables? What was the success of the edict? (P. 489). Wliat important question ai'ose respecting the meeting of the States-General? Why was it important? Can you explain the double representation? (P. 490). What is said of the opening of the meeting? What were the results expected ? What is said of the real results ? C0NVi.I!.SATI0X ON CHAPTER XXXVIL vVhat is said of the character of Louis ? (P. 491). How does he comparts with Henry IV. ? What was his religious character ? What is said of the queen's tastes? (P. 492). Describe her farm house. "What was thought of her walks at Versailles ? (P. 493). Wliat is said of her fondness for acting ? Wliat of her education? Did she encourage learning in others ? (P. 494). What peculiarities of her character are here mentioned ? What were the king's amusements ? What is said of his brothers ? (P. 495). Wliat was the character of the comte d'Aitois 1 What was the fundamental cause of the difficulties which resulted in the French revolution ? Wliat was the situation of the French nobility ? AVhat had been the tendency of the French philosophy? What influence did the duke of Orleans exert ? What was his character? (P. 496). What was Mr. Young's position in reference to the revolution ? Repeat the account which he gives of the king"* sitjia. tion in the Tuileries. 626 QUESTIONS. CHAPTER XXXVIir. (P. 497). What was the first question -which was to bo settled by tV^ States-General? {P. 498). What arrangement was made? Whatwastha state of aiFairs around Paris and Versailles ? What eifect had the dismissal •jf M. Necker ? What; was the first step of the populace at the commence- iuent of the revolution ? (P. 499). What new plans were proposed by the nobility ? Describe the attack on Versailles. What was Miomenil's con- duct? (P. 500). How did the queen escape? What were the results cf La. Fayette's interference ? Describe the journey. What was the king'* situation in the Tuileries ? (P. 501). What was the character of M. Necker ? What decree was passed on Nov. 27 ? What is said of the emigration of that time? (P. 502). What members of the royal family now remained in Prance? Where were the rest? What important act did the king per- fonm on Sept. 14 ? What was the character of the legislative assembly? (P. 503). With what feelings did the rest of Europe view these changes T What effect did the duke of Brunswick's interference have? Give an ac- count of the attack made upon the Tuileries. (P. 504). Whatwere the move- ments of the combined armies ? Give an account of the massacre of the priests. What was done to the hospital of the Bic^tre ? (P. 505). What is said of the conduct of the princess de Lamballe? What does M. Violet say of the conduct of the priests ? What assembly succeeded the legisla- tive assembly ? Do you know what besides democratical writings Paine is distinguished for ? (P. 506). To what new measures did the popular party now proceed 1 What is said of divisions among the republicans ? Hovir did the Jacobins acquire their name? What is said of the influence of the clubs? What was the object of the Jacobins ? WTiat was the king's situ ation in the temple? (P. 507). Describe the manner of his accusation What privileges did he claim ? Were they granted ? Was he allowed to see his family? Describe his trial. (P. 508). What was the result of tha trial ? Give an account of his going to the place of Louis XV. What is that place now called? (P. 509). What was the king's conduct? What is said of the queen's trial and death ? (P. 510). What is said of the death of the duke of Orleans ? Conversation on Chapter XXXVIII. What is said of the emigration of the French nobility? (P. 511). What character did the queen display during these troubles ? What w^as her success as a politician? (P. 512). Give an account of the plan formed for the escape of the royal family. Describe their escape from the palace. (P. 513). Give an account of the way in which they were discovered. Where were they stopped? Why was the king unwilling to have a pas- sage forced for him? (P. 514). Describe their return to Paris. (P. 515). How wei'e they treated when they reached Paris ? What wei'e the changes in the appearance of Marie Antoinette ? (P. 516). What plan was formed for the escape of the princess de Lamballe ? How was it frustrated? Under what cii'cumstances was the journal of the young princess written 1 (P. 517). Give the substance of her account of the way in which her father and mother spent their time. What attendance did the royal family have ? (P. 518). What is said of the watch kept over them ? What is the prin- cess's account of the parting between the queen and her-son? (P. 519). What is said of the queen's feelings and conduct after losing her son ? What treatment did she receive in the Conciergerie ? (P. 520). What treatment did her son receive from Simon ? What effect did it have upon him ? What anecdote showing his resolution is given? Describe his situ- ation after Simon left him. (P. 521). What is said of the character of *h3 princess "Elizabeth ? V/hat was her conduct during the closing days of net lifo? QUESTIONS. 62? CHAPTER XXXIX. (I* 1(23). What were the plaus and movements of the duke of Brans vrick f How was he ro loived in France ? To what suspicion did Dumoa- riez vupose himself? What was his subsequent conduct? (P. 524). What accou,* is given of the events at Toulon? What was the state of affairs in Paris ? Which side did the inhabitants of La Vendee take in the rev- olution? Wliat advantages had they in their stiniggle with the republic- ans ? Did the royalists or the republicans finally succeed ? (P. 525). What edicts were passed at Paris, in reference to religious subjects ? What pro- visions were made for iutennents ? (P. 526]. What account is given of Robespierre's fall ? \Vhat effect had the reign of terror upon the foreign wars ? What was the success of the French in Flandei's and Holland ? (P. 527). What is said of mai-itime affairs? — of affairs in Corsica? (P. 528). How was the government arranged under the new constitution? What was the power of the council of the ancients ? — of the council of the five hundred ? — of the directory ? What account is given of the couimence- ment of Bonaparte's career? What was his policy in reference to paint- ings and statues ? (P. 529). What was the result of the expedition to Ireland? What was done with the army of galley-slaves? Give au account of the movements of Bonaparte in Italy and the suiToundiua states. ^P. 530). What did the French accomplish in Switzerland ? Hov; did the directory design to attack the English power? On what hazard- ous expedition was Bonaparte sent? Give an account of his exploits on the way to Egypt. (P. 531). How had the plans of the French been dis- guised? How happened it that Nelson missed meeting with Bonaparte ? What was the result of the naval action in Aboukir Bay? What did Bonaparte then do? (P. 532). What is said of Bonaparte's return to Prance ? What change was now made in the government? What posi- tion did Bonaparte take ? What movements were made against Bona parte by the other European princes ? (P. 533). What success did Suv/ar^ row meet with ? How were Bonaparte's overtures to the allies received ? What account is given of the battle of Marengo ? (P. 534). "What an-ange- ment was made between Kleber and Sir Sydney Smith ? What intention.'? did general Monoa declare ? What was Abercromby's plan ? (P. 535). What were the conditions of the peace which was finally concluded ? When were hostilities recommenced ? What prisoners did the French take ? (P. 536). WTiat was the peculiar difficulty in their case ? What 'lew position did Bonaparte reach now ? Conversation on Chapter XXXIX. (P. 537). What is said of the early life of Robespierre ? What story is told of his arrest and execution? (P. 538). What is said of the invention of the guillotine? (P. 539). What v/as the situation of the French emi- grants in London ? What was that of the duke of Orleans ? (P. 540). What seems to have been the policy of the republican government ? WTiat is the anecdote given of the crew of the Majestic? (P. 541). What is said of the fashions, in dress and manners, during the early part of Louis's reign ? What change was brought about ? Through whose influ- ence ? (P. 542). To what did the feeling of admiration of the Americans lead? \Vli_at is said of the clubs ? What was the state of things during the revolution? What is said of Bonaparte's influence over manners? Wl%t is said of the ladies' dress during the early part of Louis's reign How was this changed? What led the ladies to copy the dresses of antiquity ? CHAPTER XL. (P. 545). What account is here given of Napoleon's movements ? Whai was the result of the battle of Austerlitz ? (P. 546). Wliat is said of tha power of the English at sea ? Give an account of the battle of Trafalgar. What took place iit this time in the Germanic empire ? (P. 547). Wliat 6-28 QUESTION:*.. was JSTapoleou's sM-jcess in his coutest with Prussia'! tVliat prevented him from invading Ei.gland ? What filans did he form fir weakening the commerce of the English ? What changes had Napoleon made in the governments of Spain and Naples ? (P. 548). With what feelings did the Spaniards regard the elevation of Joseph to their throne ? What effect do the events in Spain seem to have had in determining the movements of the other powers ? What is said of the feelings of the pope ? — of Austria? — of Prussia ? Give an account of Napoleon's movements and success, iu view of the state of feeling at that time arising. Who received the crown of Sweden? (P. 549). What is said of Napoleon's second marriage ? J What change took place m the policy of Hussia? Desciibe Napoleon's movements in going from Paris to Moscow. (P. 550). What is here said of Napoleon's character ! Give the description of the burning of Moscow. (P. 551). What prevented his remaining in Moscow? What did he hope to accomplish by his victory? Give an account of the events at the com- mencement of the retreat. (P. 552). Describe the sufferings incurred in crossing the Beresina. What is said of the loss of the army during this expedition? (P. 553). What was the effect of all these events upon his enemies ? Was Napoleon discouraged ? What did he do ? What was the result of the battle of Leipsic? What preparations did he make for carrying on war? (P. 554). What is said of Napoleon's management while' threatened by so many enemies ? What did the allies do in Paris ? How were thej' received by royalists and republicans ? (P. 555). What did Na- poleon now decide to do? ^Vhat place was assig-ied as his future resi- dence? Wliat steps were taken for recalling Lo'/s XVIII.? What ac- count is given of the peace? (P. 556). V/hat su-i'-^cions of Louis were current ? What was the state of feeling among Kapoleon's army and officers ? Describe his return to France. (P. 557). What did he attempt at first to do? Did he succeed? What account is given of the various contests which followed ? (P. 558). What account is given of the battle of Waterloo ? What were Napoleon's intentions after his defeat ? On what conditions was peace made? (P. 559). What was now the state of things in Spain? — in Italy? — in Inlanders? Describe Napoleon's surrender to the English. (P. 560). What did the English decide to do with him? What has been the state of feeling in Erauce since his deatJ» ? CoNVEnSATlON ON CHAPTER XL. (P. 562). What is said of the early life of Napoleon? What was his character at school? (P. 56.3). What is said of his interest in the Revolu- tion? What is said of his conduct at Toulon? (P. 564). Where did Josephine live after her divorce ? (P. 565). What means were taken to deceive the people of Prance as to their danger from the allies' ■? Describe Paris during its occupation by the allies. CHAPTER XLL (P. 566). What were the first acts of Louis? What became of Labe doyere? (P. 567). Of Ney?— of Lavallette? What difficulties did Louia meet -with? (P. 568). What things that he did caused dissatisfaction in France ? What three political parties were in existence ? (P. 569) What circumstances operated favorably upon the external state of France ? ^Vhat course did France take in reference to the troubles in Spain? (P. 5/0). What was the success of the expedition ? What is said of the state of feeling in France in reference to the power of the crown ? (P. 571). G-ive an account of the king's death. Conversation on Chapter XLI. What is said of the history of Prince Talleyrand ? (P. 572). What is said of M. Pouche ? (P. 573). Why was Lavallette unv/illing to attempt to es- cape ? Describe his escape. (P. 574). Where was he concealed ? (P. 575). What was the effect of these events upon Madame Lavallette ? QUESTIONS. 62J» CHAPTER XL II (P. 576J. What were the intentions and actual effects of CI arles' act of lademnilication ? What other unpopular acts followed this ? (P. 577). What was the feeling toward Prince Jules de Poliguac ? (P. 578). "What results followed the expedition to Algiers ? What were the six ordinances which displeased the people ? Were the king and ministers aware of their danger? (P. 579). What was the state of things on the next day? What is said of the appearance of things on the morning of the 28th ? What method of warfare was used during the day? (P. 580). What is said of Marmont's sincerity ? Wliat was done during the night of the 29th by the populace ? What events closed this contest ? (P. 581). What is said of La Fayette ? WTiat anecdote is given of the three Englishmen? W"hat po- sition did the duke of Orleans take? (P. 582). What did the king and dauphin do? W^hat did the mob prepare to do ? Did the king resist? (P. 583). What steps did the chamber of deputies proceed to take ? Wh»4 ac- count is given of the early life of Louis Pliilippe ? (P. 584). WTiat effect on his position and influence had the second restoration? CHAPTER XLIIL (P. 585). What account is given of the situation of Louis Philippe raring his banishment? (P. 586). What is said of his character? W^liat w^.e the character and influence of his wife ? How was the voting power '.-r suf- frage of France managed? ^Vhat was the first course open before him? (P. 587). What was the second ? Which did he choose ? What account is given of tlie war in Algiers ? — of the fortification of Paris ? (P. 588). Whpt was its real object ? What is said of the marriage of the Spanish princess ? (P. 589). Was Louis Philippe successful in his measiires ? V/hat effect did they have? What were the reform banquets ? Describe ths struggle be tween the king and the people. Give an account of Louis PbUippa'« ef cap?. (P. 590). What is his position now ? 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