The court and reign of Francis the First, king of France

Presented to the

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO
LIBRARY

by the

ONTARIO LEGISLATIVE
LIBRARY

1980

Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2007 with funding from

Microsoft Corporation

http://www.archive.org/details/courtreignoffran02parduoft

THE

COURT AND REIGN

OF

FRANCIS I

Court and R
Kini? of F

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The Chevalier Bayard

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The .» &< i\

Court and Keign 0£^^

of

Francis the First

King of France
Julia Pardoe

With a Preface
By Adolphe Cohn

Volume II.

New York
James Pott & Company

Mcmi. .

SEEN BY

ON

.Si 15

Copyrighted, 1901,

by

James Pott & Company

PCs
111

ft

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CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

CHAPTER I.
1519-20.

VAGB

The Electoral Diet Convened at Frankfort — Death of M.
de Boissy — Charles Proclaimed Emperor of Germany
— Mortification of the French Ministers — Self-com-
mand of Francis — Birth of a Prince — Henry VIII. Be-
comes His Sponsor — Progress of the Lutheran Faith
— Louise de Savoie Establishes Herself at the Tuile-
ries — Francis Resolves to Rebuild the Louvre — Bon-
nivet Excites the King to Enter upon a New War
— Francis Bribes Wolsey — Henry and Francis Arrange
a Personal Interview — The Navarrese Question is Re-
vived between the Emperor and the French King —
Critical Position of Charles V. — The Field of the Cloth
of Gold — The Banquet — The Treaty — The Tourney —
Fearlessness of Francis — An Exchange of Visits — The
Two Queens — The Parting Mass — Confirmation of the
Treaty — Departure of Henry VIII. for Gravelines —
Francis Returns to France I

CHAPTER II.

1520-21.

The Differences between England and Scotland Sub-
mitted to the Arbitration of Wolsey and Louise de
Savoie — Wolsey is Brought over to the Cause of the

vi Contents

PACK

Emperor— Charles V. and Henry VIII. Meet at
Gravelines— Charles Proceeds to Aix-la-Chapelle for
His Coronation— Narrow Escape of the French King
—Charles Convokes a Diet at Worms— Luther De-
fends His Doctrines— Is Outlawed— and Protected by
the Elector of Saxony— Francis is Reluctant to Com-
mence the War — Ingratitude of Charles V. to Robert
de la Mark— La Mark Returns to His Allegiance, and
Defies the Emperor — Policy of the Pope — The Span-
iards Revolt — Arrogance of Charles V. — The Na-
varrese Solicit Henri d'Albret to Claim His Crown —
Francis Supplies Him with Troops — Defence of the
Citadel of Pampeluna — Ignatius Loyola — Surrender of
Pampeluna to the French — Imprudence of the French
General — He Enters Spain — The Castilians Rise
against Him — Lespare is Defeated and Made Prisoner
— The Emperor Marches an Army against the Due
de Gueldres — The Rival Sovereigns Appeal to Henry
VIII. — The Due de Gueldres Sues for a Truce —
Francis Fortifies His Frontiers — Duplicity of the Em-
peror— The Comte de Nassau Takes Mouzon — A
Conference Opened at Calais — The Pope and Wolsey
Meet at Bruges — Bad Faith of Leo X.— Indignation
of Francis against the English King — His Self-reliance
— Bayard Defends Mezieres — Francis Encounters the
Enemy near Valenciennes, but Suffers Them to Es-
cape— The Comte de Nassau Summons Bayard to Sur-
render— Spirited Reply of the Good Knight — A Ruse
de Guerre — The Imperialists Raise the Siege — The
Bottle of Wine — The Recompense of Bayard — Grati-
tude of the Citizens of Mezieres to the Good Knight
— Francis Marches upon Picardy — Charles Joins His
Army at Valenciennes — Francis Confers the Com-
mand of the Van-guard upon the Due d'Alencon —
Indignation of Bourbon — Francis Returns to France,
and Disbands His Army 35

Contents vii

CHAPTER III.
1522.

PAGE

Lautrec Returns to France — The Temporary Command
of the Army in the Milanese is Confided to Lescun
— Its Insubordination — Despair of the Milanese Citi-
zens— Prosper Colonna Strengthens the Imperialist
Army — Lautrec Demands Supplies — Exhausted State
of the Treasury — The Enamelled Ornaments — Louise
de Savoie Undertakes to Raise the Supplies — The Fi-
nance-Minister— Lautrec Returns to Milan — The Sup-
plies are Withheld — The Pope Declares War against
France — The Confederated Army Threatens Parma —
Imprudence of Lautrec — Disgust of His Troops — The
Swiss Desert — The French Retire to Milan — Are At-
tacked by the Enemy, and Driven out — Lautrec Re-
treats to Como, is Pursued by Pescara, and Takes up
His Winter Quarters at Cremona — Lescun Proceeds
to France with Despatches — Indignation of Francis —
Anxiety of Leo X. — His Exultation at the Capture of
Milan— His Death 68

CHAPTER IV.

1522.

Discontent of the Due de Bourbon — A Summons to
Amboise — A Mature Passion — Louise de Savoie Of-
fers Her Hand to Bourbon — He Rejects it — A Mutual
Hatred — Marguerite de Valois and Bonnivet — The
Palace of a Parvenu — Ostentation of the Due de
Bourbon — The Lawsuit — Accession of Adrian VI. —
Francis Resolves to Attempt the Recovery of the Mila-
nese— He Levies a Tax on the States of Languedoc —
Charles V. Visits England — The Two Sovereigns
Agree to Invade France — Francis Sends Reinforce-
ments to the Army of Lautrec — The French Take
Novara — but are Repulsed before Pavia — Prosper

viii Contents

PAGE

Colonna Establishes Himself at Bicocca— The Swiss
under Lautrec Mutiny, and Insist upon Meeting the
Enemy — Lautrec Marches on Bicocca — Disorderly
Charge of the Swiss Mercenaries — They Desert —
Lautrec Retreats to Cremona, and Proceeds to
France — Lescun Assumes the Command, is Attacked
by Colonna, and Compelled to Capitulate — The Vene-
tian Senate Declines to Enter into a Treaty with
France — Lescun Evacuates Lombardy — Pescara
Marches against Genoa— The City is Taken by
Treachery — Cruelty of the Imperialist Generals — The
French Lose Italy 81

CHAPTER V.
1522.

Louise de Savoie Urges on Her Lawsuit against Bour-
bon— The Parliament Refuses to Ratify the Decision
of the Judges — The Estates of Bourbon are Placed
under Sequestration — Unguarded Violence of the
Duke — The Emperor Despatches M. de Beaurain to
Bourbon — The Price of Rebellion — Bourbon Nego-
tiates with Wolsey — A Double Treason — Improvi-
dence of Francis — Excesses of the French Soldiery —
The Plague in Paris — Mob Riots — Ineffective Pre-
cautions— Discontent of Adrian VI. — He Endeavours
to Alienate the Venetian States from France — The
Venetians Enter into the European League — Lautrec
Arrives at Court — Irritation of Francis — The Mar6-
chal is Refused an Audience — Waning Influence of
Madame de Chateaubriand — Bourbon Espouses the
Cause of Lautrec — A Stormy Interview — Lautrec
Pleads His Cause Boldly — The Finance-Minister and
the Regent — Louise de Savoie Accused of Appropriat-
ing the Public Moneys— Truth and Treachery — Recon-
ciliation of the King and Lautrec— The Two Factions
— Queen Claude Urges the Marriage of the Princess

Contents ix

PAGE

Renee and Bourbon — The Princess is Dissuaded by the
Regent — The French Succour Fontarabia — Death of
the Marquis de Chatillon — Charles V. Lands at Dover
and Meets Henry VIII. — Unjust Demands of the Eng-
lish King — Dignified Reply of Francis — Arrogant
Declaration of Bonnivet — Charles Confers the Protec-
torate of the Low Countries upon Henry VIII. — War
Declared against France by England — The Earl of
Surrey and the Comte de Buren Attack the French
Frontiers — The Due de Vendome Proceeds to the
Seat of War — Francis Coins the Silver Screen of St.
Martin's Tomb to Pay His Troops — Imprudent Fu-
tility of Francis — The Earl of Surrey Returns to Eng-
land— Francis Despatches an Army to Invest Milan —
Francis is Apprised of the Intended Rebellion of Bour-
bon— The Queen's Dinner — Bourbon Leaves the
Court — The Comte de St. Vallier — Pertinacity of Bour-
bon— He Retires to Moulins 102

CHAPTER VI.

1523.

Bourbon is Suspected by the King — Francis Determines
on His Arrest — Visits Him at Moulins — Double Dis-
simulation— Francis Returns to Amboise — Bourbon's
Sick-chamber — M. le Wartz Abandons His Post —
Bourbon Escapes to Chantille — The Hunting-Party —
First Misunderstanding between the King and Ma-
dame Chateaubriand — Mediation of Marguerite de
Valois — A Conspirator — The King and M. de Pom-
perant — M. de Pomperant Leaves Amboise — Arrest of
the Comte de St. Vallier — Indignation of Francis — He
Despatches Troops against Bourbon — Bourbon Es-
capes to Mantua — Fate of His Adherents — The Eng-
lish and Spanish Invade France — but are Compelled to
Retire — The Command of the Army of Italy is Con-
ferred upon Bonnivet — Confiscation of Bourbon's

x Contents

PAGE

Estates— A Gasconnade— Trial of the Conspirators-
Diane of Poitiers— Her Marriage— Her New Home-
She Arrives at Court to Intercede for the Life of Her
Father — Has an Audience of Francis — The Commuted
Sentence — Diane and Her Biographers . . .139

CHAPTER VII.

1523-24.

Mortifications of Bourbon — Francis Endeavours to Re-
store Him to His Allegiance — Bourbon Rejects His
Overtures — His Estates are Sequestrated — Bad Faith
of Charles V. — Jealousy of the Imperialist Generals
— France Attacked on all Sides — The Due de Ven-
dome Recalled for the Defence of Paris— Brion
Chabot Despatched to the Capital to Reassure the
Citizens — A Second Gasconnade — The Retort Cour-
teous— The English Troops Withdraw from France —
Discontent of the Nation at the Appointment of Bon-
nivet — Contrast between Bourbon and Bonnivet as
Generals — Gallant Defence of Cremona by M. d'Her-
bouville — Death of the Pope — Pescara Driven Back to
Milan — Bonnivet Blockades the City — Able Defence
of Colonna — Bayard Detached to Vigevano — Bon-
nivet Raises the Siege — Death of Colonna — De Lan-
noy and Pescara Enter Milan — Accession of Clement
VII. — Bonnivet Besieges Arona, but is Repulsed —
Bayard Defends Rebec — Is Attacked by Pescara,
and Compelled to Fly — Indignation of Bayard against
Bonnivet — Bourbon Declines to Come to an En-
gagement with Bonnivet — Retreat of the French
Army — Bonnivet is Wounded — Bayard and Van-
denesse Assume the Command of the Troops — Vande-
nesse and Bayard Mortally Wounded — The Last Mo-
ments of the Good Knight — Grief of the Soldiery —
Homage to Heroism — A Dying Rebuke — Death of
Bayard — His Funeral Cortege — Regretful Exclama-
tion of Francis — A Soldier's Monument . '■ . . 167

Contents xi

CHAPTER VIII.
1524.

PAGE

The Milanese Lost to France — Bourbon and Pescara
Pursue the Fugitive Army — Bourbon Proposes to
March into the Interior of France — Descent of Pes-
cara— They Besiege Marseilles — The City is Relieved
by Lorenzo de Ceri — Francis Regulates the Internal
Economy of the Kingdom — Levies a Force to Oppose
Bourbon — Noble Defence of the Marseillaise — Disap-
pointment of Bourbon — Taunt of Pescara — The Im-
perialists Retreat — Francis Resolves to Regain the
Milanese — Determines to Head the Army in Person —
Is Dissuaded by His Mother, but Persists— Death of
Queen Claude — Heartlessness of the King — Mademoi-
selle de Voland — Louise de Savoie Persecutes M. de
Stmblangay — He is Dismissed and Exiled from the
Court — Milan is Taken by the French — Its Deplorable
Condition — Imprudence of Francis — The French En-
camp at Mirabello — They Assault Pavia and are Re-
pulsed— Alarm of the Pope — He Declares His Neu-
trality— Enters into a Secret Treaty with Francis — Po-
sition of the French Army — The Garrison of Pavia
Mutiny — Supplies are Introduced into the City by
Stratagem — Da Leyva Robs the Churches to Pay His
Troops — Charles V. Declines to Restore the Ecclesi-
astic Ornaments — Bourbon Joins the Army at the
Head of a German Force — The Main Body of the Im-
perialists March upon Pavia — The Swiss Desert from
the French Army, and are Followed by a Large Body
of Italians — The Imperialists Endeavour to Bring
Francis to a General Engagement — Evil Influence of
Bonnivet — Battle of Pavia — Death of the Marechal de
Chabannes — Ostentatious Vanity of the French King
— Bonnivet Throws Himself into the Ranks of the
Enemy, and is Killed — Death of the Comte de Saint
Severin — Cowardice of the Due d'Alengon — Slaughter
of the Lansquenets — Escape of Pescara — Final Charge

xii Contents

PACK

of Bourbon— Francis Endeavours to Effect His Es-
cape from the Field— Is Captured— M. de Pomperant
Recognises the King, and Rescues Him from Vio-
lence—He Refuses to Surrender His Sword to Bour-
bon—Francis Claims the Hospitality of the Marquis
del Guasto— His Wounds are Dressed— Delivers His
Sword to the Viceroy of Naples— Refuses to Receive
the Homage of Bourbon — Pescara Summons the
King to Set Forth for Pavia— Lescun and Bourbon
Search for the Body of Bonnivet — Results of the Bat-
tle— Enthusiastic Admiration of the Imperialist Sol-
diers for Francis — He is Removed to Pizzighittona —
Has an Interview with Bourbon — Discusses the
Events of the Battle with Pescara— Pardons Pom-
perant—The Fortunate Prisoner— M. de Montpezat is
Ransomed by the King — Hypocrisy of Charles V. . 193

CHAPTER IX.
1525.

Results of the Battle of Pavia — Anguish of Louise de
Savoie — Indignation of Marguerite de Valois — Anni-
hilation of the French Army — Discontent of the Peo-
ple— Last Interview of the Due and Duchesse d'Alen-
qon — Death of the Duke — The Princes of the Blood —
Unpopularity of the Regent — Her Efforts to Gain the
Confidence of the Citizens — Excitement in Paris — Re-
call of the Troops from Italy — Insurrection of the Ger-
man Reformers — They are Dispersed by the Comte de
Guise — Requisition of the Parliament — Louise de Sa-
voie Persecutes the Lutherans — Energy of Marguerite
de Valois in Their Behalf — Her Isolation at Court — Ex-
ile of Madame de Chateaubriand and Diana of Poitiers
— Vengeance of the Count de Chateaubriand — The Re-
gent Endeavors to Conciliate the European Powers —
Coolness between France and England — Demands of
Henry VIII.— Craft of Charles V.— Henry VIII Signs
a New Treaty with France — Oppression of Italy by the

Contents xiii

Imperial Army — Charles Concludes a Truce with
France — The Ransom of Francis Discussed in the Em-
peror's Council — Treachery of Louise de Savoie —
Alarm of the Imperialist Generals — Crooked Policy
of De Lannoy — The Emperor's Envoy — Francis Rejects
the Proposed Conditions for His Liberty — Consents to
Proceed to Spain — Intrigue of De Lannoy — The King
Embarks — Indignation of Bourbon and Pescara —
Francis Arrives in Spain — Mutiny in the Royal
Guard — Suppressed by the King — Exultation of Charles
V. — Francis is Conducted to Madrid, and Imprisoned
in the Alcazar — Indignities Offered to the Royal Cap-
tive— Bourbon Follows the King to Madrid — Expostu-
lations of Bourbon and Pescara — Mortifications of
Bourbon — Intrigue of Jeromio Morone — The Secret
League — The Offered Crown — Pescara Betrays His
Friends — Duplicity of Clement VII. and Louise de Sa-
voie — A Sobriquet — Double-Dealing — Misplaced Con-
fidence— Arrest of Morone — Dissolution of the League
— Death of Pescara — Arrival of Madame d'Alenqon in
Spain — She Visits Her Brother — Her Distrust of
Charles V. — Her Audience — False Faith of the Em-
peror— Spirited Remonstrances of the Duchess — Her
Failure — She Endeavours to Effect the Escape of
Francis — A Household Quarrel — The Treacherous At-
tendant— The Evasion Prevented — Increased Hard-
ships of the French King — The Emperor Meditates the
Arrest of the Princess — She is Warned by Bourbon and
Escapes 238

CHAPTER X.

1526.

Despair of Francis — Recalls His Act of Abdication — Beset-
ting Weakness of the Royal Prisoner — The Secret Pro-
test— Diplomatic Treachery of the French King — De-
grading Concessions — Dangerous Alternative Conceded

xiv Contents

TAGB

by Charles V.— Decision of the Regent— Conference be-
tween Charles and Francis — Betrothal of Francis to
the Queen of Portugal — Departure of the French King
from Spain— His Meeting with the Princes— He is Met
at Bayonne by the Court — Arrival of Madame de Cha-
teaubriand— Indignation of Louise de Savoie — The King
is Detained in the Southern Provinces by 111 Health
— The Imperialist Envoys Urge upon Francis the Rati-
fication of the Treaty of Madrid — His Evasive Reply —
He Receives Ambassadors from the Pope and the Vene-
tian States — Complains of the Harsh Measures of the
Emperor — Replaces the Generals who Fell at Pavia —
Abandons Himself once more to Dissipation — Nearly
Loses His Life from a Fall while Hunting — Convokes
an Assembly of the Princes and the Burgundian Depu-
ties^— They Refuse to Sanction the Excision of the
Duchy from France — Francis Signs a Treaty with the
Pope, Henry VIII., Francisco Sforza and the Venetians
— The Imperial Envoys Withdraw from France — In-
dignation of Charles V. — He Summons Francis to Re-
turn to Madrid — Francis Disregards the Appeal — He
Neglects to Assist His Allies — Pescara Replaced in
Italy by Bourbon — The Imperial Army Oppress the

Italian People Francis Endeavours to Negotiate

with the Emperor — His Triumphant Reception — Louise
de Savoie Resolves to Supplant the Comtesse de Cha-
teaubriand— The Maid of Honour — An Apt Pupil — The
Court Reception — Anne de Pisseleu is Presented to the
King — Effects of Her Appearance — Alarm of Madame
de Chateaubriand 279

CHAPTER XL

1526-27.

The Italian League is Paralysed— Alarm of the Pope — The
Pope Enters into a League with Pompeio Colonna —
Colonna Marches on Rome — The Pontiff Takes Refuge
in the Castle of St. Angelo— Clement VII. Capitulates

Contents xv

PAGE

— Francis is Suspected by the Italian States — Is Justi-
fied by the National Poverty — Bourbon Marches to
Milan as the Lieutenant of the Emperor — Despair of
the Milanese — The Vow of Bourbon — Mistaken Trust
— Bourbon Marches on Rome — Death of Bourbon — The
Sack of the Eternal City — Alarm of Christian Europe
— Francis Visits the Capital — The Chancellor-Priest —
A Parliamentary Mistake — Injustice of Francis — Trial
of De Semblangay — The Duchesse d'Usez — Contrast
between the Court and the Capital — Chambord — Royal
Festivities — The Court Beauties — Disorderly State of
the Metropolis — Influence of the Astrologers — Cornelius
Agrippa and His Royal Patroness — The College of the
Sorbonne — Guillaume Buchardt — The Sanctuary —
Francis Sends Envoys to Spain — Wolsey Visits France
— The Hand of Marguerite de Valois is Demanded for
Henry VIII. — The Princess Declines the Marriage —
Francis Refuses to Bestow His Sister-in-law on the
English King — Wolsey Returns to England — Charles V.
Disclaims the Responsibility of the Siege of Rome —
The Kings of England and France Despatch a Com-
bined Army to Italy under the Command of Lautrec . 300

CHAPTER XII.

1526-27.

Rivalry between the Two Favourites — Remonstrances of
Madame de Chateaubriand — Royal Recriminations —
The Palace of the Tournelles — Marriage a-la-mode —
Anne de Pisseleu Created Duchess d'Etampes — Diana
de Poitiers — Last Interview of Francis and Madame de
Chateaubriand — Madame de Chateaubriand Leaves the
Court — The Jewel-Casket — Marriage of Marguerite de
Valois and the King of Navarre — Domestic Dissensions
— The Court of Beam — The Queen's Saloon — Mar-
guerite Protects the Reformers, and is Persecuted by
the Sorbonne — Partial Conversion of Henry of Navarre
to Lutheranism — False Position of the Princess . . 329

rT—— — — ^r — J^~733^ p^i — ^—- — .

THE
COURT AND REIGN OF FRANCIS I

CHAPTER I.

The Electoral Diet Convened at Frankfort — Death of M. de
Boissy — Charles Proclaimed Emperor of Germany — Morti-
fication of the French Ministers — Self-command of Francis
— Birth of a Prince — Henry VIII. Becomes His Sponsor
— Progress of the Lutheran Faith— Louise de Savoie Es-
tablishes Herself at the Tuileries — Francis Resolves to Re-
build the Louvre — Bonnivet Excites the King to Enter
upon a New War — Francis Bribes Wolsey — Henry and
Francis Arrange a Personal Interview — The Navarrese
Question is Revived between the Emperor and the French
King — Critical Position of Charles V. — The Field of the
Cloth of Gold — The Banquet — The Treaty — The Tourney
— Fearlessness of Francis — An Exchange of Visits — The
Two Queens — The Parting Mass — Confirmation of the
Treaty — Departure of Henry VIII. for Gravelines — Francis
Returns to France.

THUS were things situated, when, in the middle of
June, the electoral diet was convened in the
usual form in the city of Frankfort ; but, before its
proceedings commenced, Francis had sustained an
irreparable loss in the death of M. de Boissy, his
Vol. II.— i i

2 Reign of

ancient governor, who had been busied at Montpelier,
in conjunction with M. de Chievres, the minister of
Charles, in endeavouring to reconcile the interests of
the rival sovereigns, and thus preserving Europe from
the horrors of a universal war. They had already been
engaged for two months in this momentous under-
taking, and had begun to entertain some hopes of
ultimate success, when M. de Boissy, who had long
been an invalid, experienced a renewed and more
severe attack of his malady, to which he fell a victim.

This event was a serious one to Francis, whose
natural impetuosity and recklessness had been fre-
quently checked by the wise and prudent admonitions
of the Grand-Master; and at this particular crisis it
was doubly unfortunate, leaving him, as it did, to the
mercy of more interested and less judicious counsel-
lors; and, above all, to the influence of his mother,
who ere this period had succeeded, with more or less
difficulty, in bending to her imperious will all the min-
isters of the crown with the exception of Boissy him-
self, whose earnest devotion to the interests of his
former pupil rendered him invulnerable alike to
threats, bribes, and flattery.

Nor was the death of M. de Boissy the only fatal
privation experienced by the young King during the
course of the present year, for the veteran Leonardo
da Vinci, a month or two subsequently, terminated his
earthly career at the ripe age of seventy-five. Francis
was affectionately attached to his distinguished protege,
whom he had loaded with honours ; and he no sooner
ascertained that his end was approaching, than he
hastened to the death-chamber. Da Vinci had just

Francis I 3

received the last consolations of religion when he dis-
covered the presence of the King; and, despite his
exhaustion, he endeavoured to rise in his bed, in order
to express his sense of the favour which was thus
shown him ; but the effort was too great, and before
he had uttered more than a few sentences expressive
of his regret that he had not used his talents more
profitably for religion, he was seized with a paroxysm
which rendered him speechless. As he fell back upon
his pillow, the King sprang forward and raised his
head upon his arm ; and thus, upon the bosom of the
young monarch, Leonardo da Vinci drew his last
breath. The good effects of his sojourn at the French
court did not, however, expire with him. Although
he had declined, owing to his advanced age, to under-
take any new work, he had given public lessons and
lectures which had awakened an emulation in art
destined to produce the most beneficial results; and
the three famous artists, Cousin, Janet, and Limoges,
were alike his pupils.

Towards the close of June the diet at length as-
sembled ; when the deliberations were opened by the
Archbishop of Mayence, who, in a speech of great
length, consummate tact, and extraordinary eloquence,
pleaded the cause of Charles. He argued that, should
the electors invest Francis with the imperial dignity,
he would inevitably endeavour to annihilate the liber-
ties of Germany, even as he was now endeavouring to
subjugate those of Italy ; and that he would also, be-
yond all doubt, exert his influence to render the crown
hereditary, and thus aggrandize his successors by the
prostration of the privilege at present enjoyed by the

4 Reign of

electors. " How little can it be expected," he pur-
sued, " that he will continue either to the Princes, or
to the free territories, the liberty they have so long
enjoyed, when experience has shown us that even in
France, where formerly the great nobles dispensed
justice, and executed judgment within their own
provinces, not one princely personage is now to be
found who does not quail before the slightest gesture
of the King, or who dares do otherwise than applaud
all which it may be his royal pleasure to say or do."
He next warned the electors not to be misled by the
promises of the French ambassadors, who had stated
that their sovereign, immediately that he should have
attained the imperial crown, was prepared to direct
the whole strength of his kingdom against the Infidels ;
reminding them that an opportunity had recently oc-
curred in which he might have proved his good faith
and zeal in a cause so important to all Christendom,
and in which he had failed ; leaving to the King of
Castile, who had made no protestations upon the sub-
ject, the noble task of sweeping the seas of the first
Mahomedan fleet which had dared to menace the
shores of Italy. " No ! " he concluded energetically,
" it is not in order to subjugate the Infidels that the
King of France covets the throne of Germany; it is
that he may slake the thirst of that ambition by which
he is known to be possessed. It is that he may secure
alike to himself and to his children the proudest dia-
dem in Europe. It is, in short, that he may be enabled
through this accession of strength, to possess himself
of the inheritance of Charles in the Low Countries and
Spain, and involve all Europe in a ruinous and in-

Francis I 5

terminable war, which would be alike costly and de-
grading to the German empire."

The Archbishop of Treves argued in reply, that
the King of Castile was as thoroughly a foreigner as
Francis ; that he had been both born and educated in
the Low Countries, and that, consequently, the Ger-
man people could have neither sympathies nor preju-
dices in common with a Prince of whose habits, tastes,
and tendencies they were wholly ignorant. He laid,
moreover, great stress upon the fact that the geo-
graphical position of the French King's dominions
rendered him the most eligible candidate for the im-
perial dignity, as France might be conveniently united
with both Germany and Italy, and thus form a com-
pact portion of the empire ; whereas Spain, separated
from Germany by France, would necessarily oppose
her national antipathies to the common interest, and
either refuse to suffer her monarch to absent himself
from her own territories, or encourage his views of
domination in Italy, which were no less to be depre-
cated than those of Francis.

It will be obvious on reviewing the arguments of
both orators that they were rather objective than
laudatory; each found tangible reasons for opposing
his adversary, while neither could advance very valid
ones for supporting his own candidate ; and it was
probably from this cause that the electors, after hav-
ing patiently listened to the discussion, resolved to
maintain their independence by rejecting both, and
placing the imperial authority in the hands of one of
their own body. In pursuance of this determination,
the empire was offered, on the 4th of July, to Frederic,

6 Reign of

Duke of Saxony ; and it is certain that the mental and
moral qualifications of that Prince reflected honour on
their judgment ; but Frederic was too wise to indulge
his ambition at the expense of his true interests, and
he at once felt that he was not strong enough to brave
the animosity of two powerful monarchs. He, there-
fore, firmly withstood the temptation, recommending
the electors who had evinced such confidence in him-
self, to elevate to the imperial throne the grandson of
Maximilian, whose interests were identified with those
of Germany, and whose prompt courage and judicious
zeal had already been displayed in his late expedition
against their common enemy, the Infidel. The King
of Bohemia, the Marquis of Brandenbourg, and the
Prelates of Cologne and Mayence, supported the
proposition ; and ultimately, on the 5th of July, Charles
was proclaimed Emperor of Germany in the church
of St. Barthelemy, by the universal suffrages of the
assembly.

A solemn embassy was despatched to Barcelona,
where Charles was then residing, to announce his elec-
tion, and to invite him to repair with all possible speed
to his new dominions ; greatly to the displeasure of
his Spanish subjects, who had vainly endeavoured to
dissuade him from prosecuting his attempts at empire ;
and who being already irritated by the authority arro-
gated by the Flemish favourites of the monarch, very
naturally anticipated equal mortification from the Ger-
mans, so soon as Charles should find it necessary to
his interests to invest them with office, or to conciliate
them by honours and emoluments wrested from them-
selves.

Francis I 7

The young monarch, however, disregarded their
arguments ; and, after having given the ambassadors a
magnificent reception, accepted the new dignity with
which he had been invested by the electoral college,
pledging himself religiously to observe the conditions
which were annexed to it.

While this ceremony was going forward in Spain,
the French ministers hastened to return to their own
country, deeply mortified by their defeat, and full of re-
gret for the enormous sums which they had so uselessly
lavished. Bonnivet alone was still in possession of
some portion of the treasure which had been confided
to him, and he lost no time in making his escape in
order to place it in security ; a precaution which proved
to have been well-founded, as it narrowly escaped fall-
ing into the hands of Seckingen, who had organized a
plan for possessing himself of the state-chest, and di-
minishing the responsibility of the baffled favourite.

Francis bitterly felt his defeat. It was not alone
the loss of the empire which galled him, but the con-
viction that he had been worsted by an adversary
whom he had been ill-advised enough to despise, be-
cause ignorant of his real character and resources.
Now, however, he was at once made aware of his error ;
the skilful measures and quiet perseverance of Charles
had triumphed over his own profusion and previsions ;
and in their first struggle for pre-eminence he had been
signally worsted. Nevertheless, stung as he was, he
disdained to betray the excess of his mortification and
disappointment ; and he even controlled his real feel-
ings so far as to write to the Pope at the close of the
election, declaring that he rejoiced to have failed in a

■■■< r r»i »

8 Reign of

chimerical project which had been put into his head
by certain of the German Princes, particularly as he
had ascertained from his uncle, M. de Savoie, that it
was most unpalatable to his subjects ; who were appre-
hensive that the obligations which would have been
imposed on him had he succeeded, would have inter-
fered with the interests of France.

On the 31st of March in this year (1519), the Queen
had given birth to a second son, at St. Germain-en-
Laye; and Francis had, in anticipation of the event,
already instructed Sir Richard Wingfield to solicit
Henry VIII., in the event of his hope being realized
by the birth of a Prince, to stand sponsor for the child,
and to give him his own name.

To this proposition Henry at once acceded ; and the
ceremony was performed on the 4th of June, Sir
Thomas Boleyn officiating as proxy for his sovereign,
in conjunction with the Due d'Alengon and the
Duchesse de Nemours. At the termination of the bap-
tismal service, Francis expressed to the English am-
bassador his sense of the great honour which had been
conferred upon him by the " king's highnesse," and
the gratification which he should feel, when in his turn
Henry should become the father of a son, to do the like
for him ; declaring that, meanwhile, the child who now
bore his name should no sooner have attained to an
age qualifying him for such a privilege, than he would
forthwith send him to the King's grace in England to
do him service.

The Lutheran party had profited by the late inter-
regnum to increase their influence, and to propagate
their dogmas, which they had been enabled to do with

Francis I 9

little molestation. It is true that Maximilian had en-
deavoured near the close of his life to suppress the new
sect, from which he began to apprehend danger; but
the two vicars of the empire, the Duke of Saxony and
the Elector-Palatine, who assumed the imperial au-
thority immediately after his death, had already be-
come converts to the reformed tenets, and protected
Luther from all persecution ; while Charles, who owed
his new dignity to the former, whose German terri-
tories were not safe from the incursions of the Turks,
and who already detected the germs of revolt in Spain,
wilfully closed his eyes to the religious troubles in
Saxony, and left the care of suppressing them to the
Pope. As the immediate interests of the French King
were not, however, involved in the controversy, we
shall abstain from a recapitulation of circumstances
already familiar to all our readers, and which have
been repeatedly detailed much more ably than we
could hope to relate them ; and confine ourselves to
matters more strictly within our own province.

Early in this year Louise de Savoie, finding herself
inconvenienced by the closeness of the apartments
which she occupied in the palace of the Tournelles
during her occasional residence in the capital, had in-
duced her son to purchase for her a residence on the
banks of the Seine with an extensive garden, and com-
manding the most varied and delightful views of the
surrounding country ; in exchange for which the pro-
prietor, Nicolas de Neuville, Seigneur de Villeray, re-
ceived the estate of Chanteloup near Montlhery.
Large sums of money were expended on the embellish-
ment of this house, where Francis frequently visited

io Reign of

his mother, and where he indulged that passion for
magnificence for which he had always been distin-
guished. Costly hangings of Flanders tapestry, inlaid
furniture, panelled mirrors, and vessels of gold and sil-
ver, were to be seen on every side ; and such was the
origin of the palace of the Tuileries, which Catherine
de' Medici subsequently converted at once into a royal
abode and a national monument. The young King
was so enchanted by the capabilities of the spot that
he forthwith resolved to rebuild the Louvre, a work
which he accordingly commenced, but of which he was
not destined to do more than lay the foundation.

Meanwhile he found it agreeable to escape from the
gloomy apartments of his own palace, or from the rigid
circle of his wife, to wander over the smooth lawns and
amongst the dense shrubberies of the gardens of the
Tuileries, with the bright-eyed and light-headed ladies
of the more indulgent Duchess ; to glide over the calm
current of the Seine in a gilded barge, with Madame
de Chateaubriand by his side ; or to angle under the
shade of a silken pavilion, while Marot* recited to him
his last new poem, or eulogised the somewhat indiffer-
ent effusions of the monarch himself; who, believing
that he could at will become a poet, as he imagined

* Clement Marot was born at Cahors in 1495 ; and succeeded his father
Jehan Marot as valet -de-chambre to Francis I., whom he accompanied
to the battle of Pavia. Being accused of heresy, he was imprisoned, but
afterwards liberated by the Queen of Navarre. He was one of the most
correct and elegant of the French prose writers, and the first poet of
his day. His Epistle to Francis I., his Rondeatix, his Sonnets, his Epi-
grams, his Elegies, and his Ballads, have obtained for him a lasting repu-
tation. His Translation of the Psalms of David, continued by M. de Beze,
were long used in the Protestant churches. He also wrote a poem en-
titled Hell, which was a biting satire upon the legal profession. He died
in 1544.

Francis I 1 1

that he had already become a scholar, was constantly
amusing himself by the composition of lyrical and
amatory verses, which, as a matter of course, delighted
the whole court.

It is probable that the jealousy which existed be-
tween the new Emperor and the King of France might
have slumbered for a time, had not the death of M. de
Boissy occurred at so unfortunate a moment; for,
conscious how much the nation had already become
impoverished by the Milanese expedition and the con-
test for the imperial crown, that upright and prudent
minister had left no measure untried to dissuade Fran-
cis from undertaking a new war. The people already
murmured at the increased taxation which these specu-
lations had rendered imperative ; and while Duprat,
anxious at once to enrich himself and Madame d'An-
gouleme, affected to believe that the nation still pos-
sessed many resources which would suffice to meet
any new demand upon its revenues, Gouffier de Boissy
looked with a steady eye at present discontents, and
foresaw the moment when the sovereign would come
into a contact with his overburthened people, which
might prove fatal to both. The outlay of the court
was in itself excessive ; but with the prescience of a
wary statesman he preferred to encourage an evil to
which he felt that he could apply a remedy, rather than
weakly to permit a greater which it might be beyond
his skill to counteract ; and thus, during his life, he had
been enabled by the great influence he possessed over
the King, to keep his belligerent tastes in check, and to
make him comprehend and appreciate the perils upon
which he was so eager to rush.

12 Reign of

His death, however, opened the floodgates of the
King's ambition, or rather removed the dam by which
it had been hitherto pent in ; and Francis found in the
arguments of Bonnivet, who panted for revenge upon
Charles, and whose romantic imagination found
equivalent food only in conquest and victory; in his
mother, who was anxious for the aggrandizement of
her son, and who never permitted herself to dream of
failure ; and in the entreaties of Madame de Chateau-
briand, who for the moment coincided in the senti-
ments of Louise de Savoie, because she trusted in the
event of war to see her third brother Lespare acquire
high military rank, more than the incentives which he
required to recommence a struggle that must neces-
sarily involve all the highest interests of his kingdom.

He no sooner determined upon hostilities toward his
victorious rival than he first turned his thoughts to
England. He was united to Henry VIII. by close and
intimate bonds. The British monarch had not only
afhanced his daughter to the Dauphin, but he had also
become sponsor to the younger French Prince ; and
although he had maintained a sullen neutrality during
the struggle for empire, Francis either felt or affected
to feel, that he had been as much injured as himself
by the result of the election, and consequently spared
no pains to inspire him with the same sentiments.
Moreover, he was urged to this policy by a desire to
put his Belgian frontiers into an efficient state of de-
fence ; and, above all, to prevent an alliance between
Henry and Charles, which must have destroyed the
balance of power in Europe. He was aware that the
noble hostages whom he had delivered over to Eng-

Francis I 13

land were unwearied in their endeavours to effect a
still closer alliance between himself and his brother
monarch, and that they were constantly assuring
Henry that he required only a personal knowledge of
their sovereign to render them firm allies ; and he lost
no time in strengthening their arguments by using
every means in his power to secure the good-will of
Wolsey, whose anxiety to attain to the papacy made
him on his side desirous of gaining the friendship of
such of the continental Princes as were the most likely
to forward his design.

To attain this end Francis lavished upon the Eng-
lish minister the most costly gifts and the most mag-
nificent promises ; all of which were received in a man-
ner which served to strengthen his hopes, and buoy
him up with an anticipation of ultimate success ; while
the Cardinal, who never suffered himself to be misled
by present advantages, was calmly weighing in his
mind the probable results of the impending struggle,
and at length came to the conclusion that the Emperor
of Germany must ere long command more influence
at the court of Rome than the King of France. Henry,
however, it is certain, had more personal sympathies
with Francis than with his rival ; they were of the same
age, were addicted to the same pleasures, and swayed
by the same impulses ; and thus, unsuspicious that the
gold and pledges of Charles to his ambitious and
avaricious minister had already outweighed those of
the French King, he was induced to consent to the
celebrated interview between Francis and himself,
which the former had suggested to Sir Thomas Boleyn
at the christening of his son.

14 Reign of

Meanwhile there existed many causes for discontent
between the Emperor and the King of France. Charles
had failed to fulfil his engagement relatively to the
kingdom of Navarre, despite the pledge which he had
given at Noyon. Both the King and Queen, Jean and
Catherine were dead ; while their son Henry II., at this
period only fifteen years of age, was the ward of Alain
Albret his uncle, and resided in the French provinces,
the only territories he had inherited from his father,
who had held the kingdom of Navarre by right of his
wife; and who, when he demanded the restoration of
the Spanish portion of the country, was opposed by
the minister Chievres, who negatived the claim of Ger-
maine de Foix, declaring that she had made a donation
of it to Ferdinand the grandfather of Charles. This
arrangement had, for a time, been admitted by France ;
but on the second marriage of the Dowager- Queen the
parliament of Paris had declared the donation to be no
longer valid, and had admitted the right of Henry II.
to the succession. Not satisfied with denying this
claim, the Emperor had at the same time revived all
the old discontents of his ancestors against the prede-
cessors of the French King ; and while he contested the
right of Francis to the Milanese, he also insisted on
the restoration of the duchy of Burgundy, which he
declared to have been unjustly wrested from his grand-
mother Mary, the daughter of Charles the Bold ; while
in reply to these demands Francis once more renewed
his own to the kingdom of Naples which Ferdinand
had usurped from Louis XII.; and reclaimed the
homage which was due to him from Charles as Count
of Flanders.

Francis I 15

Nevertheless, bitter as the contention soon became,
the young Emperor shrank from the responsibility
which must be entailed upon him by a new and doubt-
ful war. Every province of Spain was in partial revolt ;
the Germans were full of discontent ; and he had been
so long absent from the Low Countries that he began
to feel his influence even there on the decline ; while
Francis, although he had less reason for uneasiness,
suffered himself so weakly to be engrossed by pleasure
and dissipation that he also lost the favourable mo-
ment ; and lavished the immense sums which were ex-
torted from the people under the pretence of state
emergencies, in the most puerile and senseless outlay.

Thus were things situated when preparations were
commenced for the interview between Henry and
Francis which had been at length agreed upon; and
they were of so costly a description that they were not
terminated until the spring of the following year
(1520). The French King, who was more anxious to
accomplish a lasting alliance with his brother monarch
than to enter into a rivalry of magnificence, had, as it
would appear from a letter still extant, addressed by
Sir Richard Wingfield to Cardinal Wolsey, been de-
sirous on this occasion to dispense with all save the
necessary ceremonial. Aware that his oft-replenished
treasury would not do more than suffice for the war
which he meditated, he even controlled his natural love
of splendour and display so far as to suggest to the
English courtier that Henry and himself should meet
rather as fast friends than as rival sovereigns ; but the
suggestion was overruled both by Henry VIII. and his
minister ; the former being anxious to dazzle Francis

1 6 Reign of

by his profusion, and the latter to impress him with a
sense of his own importance.

Piqued by the indifference displayed on the part of
the English monarch to an outlay from which he had
himself shrunk, Francis accordingly indulged himself
in the most lavish expenditure ; while in emulation of
their sovereign, all the nobles of his court, impov-
erished as many of them were by the late struggle at
Frankfort, vied with each other in an uncalculating
profusion which was destined to cripple their resources
for many subsequent years. " The great outlay that
was made," says Du Bellay ; " cannot be estimated ; but
many carried their mills, their forests, and their mead-
ows, upon their backs."

The details of the ceremony were entirely regulated
by Wolsey, such having been the proposition of Fran-
cis, who hoped by this display of confidence further to
conciliate the haughty minister; and they were ar-
ranged with a punctilious minutia which savoured
more of suspicion than of that friendship and good-
will which each monarch professed for the other. It
was decided that the meeting should take place on the
boundary of the English possessions in France, in
requital of the courtesy, or rather as an equivalent for
the condescension of Henry in having crossed the
channel to effect it ; and ultimately an open plain was
selected situate between Guisnes and Ardres. But,
before the two sovereigns met, Charles, anxious to
weaken any favourable impression which might be
produced on the mind of Henry VIII. by a personal
interview with the French King, resolved, when on his
way from Spain to Aix-la-Chapelle where he was to

Francis I 17

be invested with the imperial crown, to visit England,
under the pretext of a desire to present his respects to
Katherine of Aragon his aunt, whom he had never
seen. Henry was already on his way to Dover when
the intelligence of the Emperor's arrival reached him,
and he immediately despatched the Cardinal-minister
with a brilliant retinue to give him welcome. A dead
calm which had delayed the arrived of Charles in the
port, compelled him to have recourse to his boats, and
it was only towards evening that he was enabled to
land ; when he was met by the reverend envoy, who
greeted him in the name of his royal master, and re-
ceived him with all the honour due to his exalted rank.

The disembarkation was conducted with extreme
magnificence. The Emperor moved forward under a
canopy on which the black eagle was displayed upon
a ground of cloth of gold ; followed by a train of
Princes, Princesses, and nobles, splendidly attired ; and
in this state he proceeded to the castle, where a sumpt-
uous banquet was served up, amid the acclamations of
the multitude who had collected to witness the land-
ing.

While at Canterbury the King was apprised of the
fact that Charles had already reached Dover castle ;
upon which he again mounted in all haste, travelled
by torchlight, and arrived at the castle towards mid-
night with his train of attendants, creating so much
disturbance as to awaken the Emperor; who, upon
being informed of its cause immediately left his bed,
and flinging his mantle about him hastened to meet
his royal host, whom he encountered upon the stairs ;
where, says the old chronicler, " eche embraced other
Vol. II. -2 A*** &\

^.> ;; • a,

1 8 Reign of

right louingly," and the King conducted the Emperor
back to his apartment, conversing gaily with him, and
welcoming him heartily to England.

On the Whitsunday following, the two sovereigns
rode together to Canterbury, where they were received
by the Queen at the head of her court, composed of all
that was fairest and noblest in the realm; and ulti-
mately, on the 31st of May, the imperial visitor, having
succeeded in ingratiating himself with Henry, weak-
ened the interest felt by the English monarch for Fran-
cis, and arranged a future meeting in which their
several interests were to be discussed and united, took
leave of the King and Queen with the most emphatic
and courteous expressions of gratitude and regard ;
and, profiting by a favourable wind, once more em-
barked for Flanders.

Charles had, moreover, during this brief sojourn in
England, effected more than even Henry was aware
of ; for, conscious that the English monarch was ruled
by the Cardinal in all matters of state policy, he had
lost no opportunity of impressing upon him the great
admiration which he felt for his talents, and his desire
to secure the friendship of one whom he foresaw would
ere long fill the most sacred throne in Europe ; while
those honied words were accompanied by promises
so unreserved, and by presents so magnificent, that the
vanity and cupidity of the minister soon rendered him
as anxious to serve the interests of the Emperor as he
had previously declared himself desirous to further
those of Francis. His insatiable ambition, which ever
pointed to the triple crown, blinded him to his bad
faith ; and while Charles expatiated on his determina-

Francis I 19

tion to second his views by every means within his
power — a promise which he made the more readily
from the fact that Leo X. being still in the prime of
life, it was improbable that he should for many years
be called upon to redeem his pledge — Wolsey, as he
listened, became a convert to all his views, and readily
undertook to negative the attempts of the French King
to secure an alliance with his master.

The intelligence of this extraordinary and unlooked-
for visit excited the apprehensions of Francis, who had
already become aware that Charles made no important
movement without a corresponding motive ; and he
accordingly hastened to complete his preparations, in
order to counteract as speedily as possible the evil in-
fluence which had been exerted against him.

In preparation for the meeting the French King had
caused three buildings to be erected ; two of which were
of solid materials, and within the walls of the town ; the
first was appropriated to the Queen and the ladies of her
suite, and the other to the state banquets which were
to be given to Henry and his court ; while a third,
without the walls, was built in the form of a Roman
coliseum, the chambers, salons, and galleries being
of wood on a foundation of stone, and the whole cov-
ered in with cloth. Moreover, as the two monarchs
had agreed to meet in the plain, Francis also prepared
tents and pavilions of the most magnificent descrip-
tion. The more costly of these were hung with cloth
of gold, draped within and without in every compart-
ment, and others were of plain cloth of gold, or cloth
of gold and silver interwoven. They were all sur-
mounted, moreover, by devices or globes of the same

20 Reign of

precious materials, save that of the King himself, over
which, in order to distinguish it from the rest, was
placed a figure of St. Michael of beaten gold ; " but,"
says Fleuranges, with his accustomed persiflage, " it
was hollow."

All this magnificence was, however, even upon the
testimony of the French courtier himself, eclipsed by
the solitary, and, in so far as externals went, inferior
edifice prepared for Henry, and which was erected at
the gates of Guisnes, near the castle. It was an im-
mense square building composed simply of wood,
canvas, and glass ; but the latter was used with such
profusion that one portion of the colossal pile re-
sembled a gigantic lantern, a luxury which at that
period created great astonishment. The whole struct-
ure formed a quadrangle of princely proportions, en-
closing a court, in the centre of which, and facing the
principal entrance, were two fine fountains each of
which had three jets, playing hypocras, water, and
wine, into spacious basins. The chapel, which was of
imposing size, and richly hung with tapestry, was
adorned with the most costly plate and the most valu-
able relics ; while the cellars and butteries were worthy
of the building to which they appertained ; both Kings
welcoming all comers, and vying with each other in an
hospitality that was boundless.

What most excited the admiration of the French
was, however, the fact that this enormous edifice had
been constructed entirely in England, and brought over
piecemeal; and that, while from the circumstance of
its being entirely covered with canvas painted to re-
semble stone-work, and lined throughout with tapestry,

Francis I 21

it had an appearance of solidity which would have de-
ceived the eye into a belief that it was intended to
endure for centuries, the two Kings had no sooner
parted than it was once more disjointed, re-embarked,
and conveyed back to England ; " without any cost,"
as Du Bellay expresses it, " save that of the carriage."

The arrangements made for the two Queens and
their respective suites were gorgeous in the extreme ;
pearls and jewels were lavished, not only upon the
canopies above their chairs of state, but also upon the
very footcloths by which they were approached ; while
their garments were of piled velvet, or cloth of gold
and silver, embroidered with gems and coloured silks
in large masses ; or Lyons damasks, studded with silver
stars, or traversed by broad bars of gold. Nor were
the fair and noble ladies by whom they were attended
much less magnificently attired than themselves ; al-
though, as a contemporaneous chronicler declares, the
" English dames wore the richest and the costliest
habits, but the French ones arranged theirs with more
taste and elegance, so that their visitors soon began
to adopt the mode of the country, by which they lost
in modesty what they gained in comeliness."

It is to be supposed that the rigid circle of Claude
were not among those against whom this reproach was
registered.

At length the important day of meeting was decided
on, and the ceremonial savoured at once of the sus-
picion and arrogance of the Cardinal-minister; who,
amid the pompous display which he had induced
Henry to make, had been even more mindful of his
own dignity than that of his master ; his train of Bish-

22 Reign of

ops, Priests, Deacons, pages, and men-at-arms being
rather those of a sovereign prince than of any subject,
however elevated his rank.

It was arranged that the King of England should
advance half a mile beyond the Castle of Guisnes,
towards Ardres, but still within his own territories,
where he should halt in the open plain ; and that the
French monarch should progress precisely the same
distance from Ardres towards the same spot, at the
same day and hour, which would bring him within the
limits of Henry's domain of Guisnes. " In the
whiche," proceeds Hall, generally so punctiliously
correct in his details, " there shall not bee set nor
dressed any pauillions or tentes, and there the said
twoo kinges beyinge on horsebacke, with their retinue,
shall se the one thother, and salute eche other, and
speake together familiarly and common in that sort
and maner, and so long as shall seme to them good."

Herein, however, he has committed an error, as both
Du Bellay and Fleuranges assert that a pavilion had
been expressly erected for the interview, into which the
two sovereigns were to adjourn after they had ex-
changed compliments and congratulations.

Warning guns having been fired from both Ardres
and Guisnes, the rival processions set forward at the
same instant : Francis, mounted upon a splendid horse,
whose housings flashed in the sunlight like living fire,
so thickly were they studded with precious stones and
gold ; and followed by all the chivalry of France. The
suspicious jealousy of Wolsey had determined him,
however, to regulate the number of attendants by
whom the two sovereigns were to be severally accom-

Francis I 23

parried to the tent of audience ; and he decided upon
two on either side, while he himself as Minister of
England, and Robertet as that of France, should await
them at the entrance. The nobles selected by Francis
to be present at the interview, were the Connetable de
Bourbon and the Chancellor Duprat; while Henry
conferred the same honour upon the Dukes of Nor-
folk and Suffolk.

Francis arrived first upon the field ; but in a few in-
stants the English King appeared at about the distance
of an arrow's flight, riding a Spanish charger of great
strength and beauty, and magnificently caparisoned.
Here the English party suddenly paused ; Lord Aber-
gavenny assuring the King that the number of the
French exceeded that of his own followers, as he had
ascertained from having already been among them ;
when the Earl of Shrewsbury, angered at so puerile a
terror, hastened in his turn to put an end to a delay
which if not absolutely suspicious was at least dis-
courteous, by declaring that he also had paid a visit
to the rival camp. " And, Sir," he said firmly, " the
Frenchmen are more in fear of Your Grace and of your
subjects than your subjects are of them ; wherefore, if
I might venture to offer my opinion, I would counsel
Your Highness to proceed."

" So we intend, my lord," was the instant reply of
Henry ; whereupon the officers-at-arms gave the word :
" On, afore ; " and once more the glittering cavalcade
was in motion towards the bank of the Adern, where
every noble and gentleman fell into his proper place,
and the whole party halted with their faces towards the
valley.

24 Reign of

The Due de Bourbon, as Connetable of France,
bore his drawn sword in front of his sovereign, which
Henry VIII. no sooner remarked than he desired the
Marquis of Dorset, who carried his own sword of state,
to unsheath it in like manner ; and this done, the mon-
archs rode into the valley, where, they at length met
face to face at the head of two of the most brilliant as-
semblages of nobility which had ever been seen in
Europe. For a brief instant both paused, as they sur-
veyed each other with astonishment and admiration ;
for they were at that period, beyond all parallel, the two
most comely princes in Christendom. Francis was
the taller and the more slender of the two; and was
attired in a vest of cloth of silver damasked with gold,
and edged with a border of embossed work in party-
coloured silks. Over this he wore a cloak of brocaded
satin, with a scarf of gold and purple crossing over one
shoulder, and buttoned to the waist, richly set with
pearls and precious stones ; while his long hair escaped
from beneath a coil of damasked gold set with dia-
monds, and gave him a noble and graceful appearance
which his splendid horsemanship, and handsome, al-
though strongly defined features, his bushy whiskers,
and ample moustache, tended to enhance. Henry, on
his side, wore a vest of crimson velvet slashed with
white satin, and buttoned down the chest with studs
composed of large and precious jewels ; and his round
velvet toque or hat was surmounted by a profuse plume
which floated on the wind, save where it was confined
by a star of brilliants. His figure, although more
bulky than that of his brother monarch, was still well-
proportioned ; his movements were elastic and unem-

Francis I 25

barrassed ; and his face attractive from the frankness
of its expression, the singular brightness of his eyes,
and the luxuriance of his hair and beard, which he
wore in a dense fringe beneath his chin, and which was
at that period less red than golden.

The mutual scrutiny of the two young sovereigns
lasted only a moment ; in the next they were in each
other's arms, each straining from the saddle to em-
brace his brother monarch. The horse of Henry
swerved for an instant impatient of the impediment,
but the hand of Francis firmly grasped the rein which
its rider had suffered to escape him ; and after a re-
newed exchange of courtesies, the attendant equerries
were summoned to hold the stirrups of their royal
masters as they alighted. On gaining their feet the
two Kings exchanged another embrace ; and then,
arm-in-arm, they proceeded to the pavilion of audience,
followed each by his selected witnesses. On their en-
trance the Lord Cardinal of York was presented to
Francis, and M. de Robertet to the English King, dur-
ing which time the whole of the respective guards and
retinues halted at the entrance of the camp, about a
stone's throw from the pavilion ; comprising, besides
the train of nobles on either side, four hundred body
guards in state uniforms. Nor had they cause of
weariness as they awaited the royal leisure, for as they
reined up their horses beside the barrier, the whole
magnificence of the camp burst upon them, with its
frail but costly tenements gleaming in the sun like
some fairy creation ; and winning by its gorgeousness
the admiration of the spectators, and the enduring
appellation of The Field of Cloth of Gold.

26 Reign of

A splendid banquet had been prepared for the
princely guests ; and as they pledged each other in the
generous wine of the country, Francis, grasping the
hand of his royal companion, said courteously and
emphatically, " Thus far, with some fatigue, my dear
brother and cousin, have I travelled in order to enjoy
a personal interview with you ; and I think that you
will put faith in my sincerity when I say that I believe
you esteem me on your side, and feel convinced of my
readiness as well as ability to aid you should need be ;
which my kingdom and my principalities will alike
enable me to do."

" Sir," replied Henry, with equal suavity and em-
phasis ; " I regard not either your realm or its de-
pendencies, but rather the steadfast and loyal observ-
ance of the treaties into which we have conjointly
entered ; and should you strictly observe these, then
do I not hesitate to affirm that my eyes have never
looked upon a Prince whom my heart could better
love ; and glad I am that in order to secure your affec-
tion I was induced not only to cross the seas, but also
to ride to the furthermost boundary of my kingdom in
order to meet you here."

These courteous speeches exchanged, and the ban-
quet removed, the articles of the proposed treaty were
laid before the sovereigns by their respective ministers ;
upon which the English King drew the papers towards
him, and began by reading aloud those containing the
propositions of Francis; and these concluded, he
opened his own, and was commencing, " I, Henry,

King of " The document ran, " King of France

and England," but he at once felt the futility and im-

Francis I 27

propriety of such an assumption on the present occa-
sion, and suddenly pausing, he looked with a smile
towards his royal auditor, and said gaily, " I shall not
insert all that I see here, for as you are present, I
should lie." After which he resumed his task, saying
steadily, " I, Henry, King of England " — and then
continued without further interruption to the close of
the document.

"And well drawn up and written were those articles,"
says Fleuranges ; " had they only been observed."

This important labour accomplished, the two sov-
ereigns decided upon the spot where the lists and
scaffoldings should be erected for a tournament, being
alike resolved to spend the time which they should
pass together in pleasure and amusement ; leaving their
respective counsellors to negotiate all public business,
and to report to them each evening the progress they
had made towards a mutual acceptance of the terms of
the treaty. This being finally agreed, they parted with
mutual expressions of affection and regard ; and while
Francis returned to Ardres, Henry rode back into the
town of Guisnes, where he passed the night, reserving
the monster building we have described for the exigen-
cies of the day.

At the fall of evening Cardinal Wolsey, accompanied
by one of the English members of council, waited upon
the French King by desire of his master, to arrange
measures by which they might frequently meet without
distrust or apprehension on either side ; and it was
finally settled that the Kings should fete the Queens,
and the Queens the Kings ; and thus when Henry
should arrive at Ardres to visit the Que^rjjoP France,

« ' \r ■■■ ij »

28 Reign of

Francis previously apprised of his intention, should at
the same moment set forth for Guisnes to share the
hospitality of the Queen of England ; by which means
each would become hostage for the other.

All that was requisite when this irksome and un-
gracious matter had been decided on, was to prepare
for the tourney, which had been appointed for the fol-
lowing morning. A large space was accordingly en-
closed by rails and ditches, beside which platforms
were erected for the spectators ; and at one end a lofty
mound was raised, upon which a hawthorn tree and a
raspberry bush, intended to represent the devices of
the two Kings, were conspicuously displayed. On the
right side of the lists a velvet canopy was erected, under
which the Queens were seated with a numerous train
of ladies, all richly attired, and awaiting with impatience
the commencement of the sports. At the principal
entrance of the enclosure were two lodges, appropri-
ated to the knights who guarded the barrier ; and be-
side these were two spacious cellars, which were amply
provided with wine for the refreshment of all comers.

As the sovereigns entered the arena, their respective
shields were attached to the symbolic trees upon the
mount ; and the young monarchs, at the head of their
noble followers, then engaged in the warlike pastime,
and encountered all combatants who presented them-
selves ; when many a rude combat took place, as was
to be expected where the flower of the youth and chiv-
alry of the two first nations in Europe met to sustain
the honour of their several countries. These sports
continued for twelve or fifteen days, and were diversi-
fied by balls, banquets, and other festivities in which

Francis I 29

the sister Queens and their ladies could bear a part;
but long before their cessation, Francis, whose open
and generous spirit was vexed by the suspicious and
unnecessary restraints which had been put upon a free
and unconstrained intercourse between the two courts,
rose one morning at an unusually early hour, and ac-
companied only by two gentlemen and a page, mounted
an ungroomed horse, and with no other preparation
than that of throwing a Spanish cloak across his
shoulders, galloped over to the castle of Ardres to pay
a visit to the English King.

When he reached the drawbridge, the guards, as-
tonished by such an apparition, were at a loss how to
act ; and the governor of the citadel who was stationed
at the spot with two hundred archers was even more
amazed than his men. As the young monarch passed
among them he laughingly commanded them to sur-
render, declaring that he intended to make all the
garrison prisoners ; after which he desired to be shown
to the chamber of Henry, and despite the remonstrance
of the bewildered governor, who ventured to suggest
that his royal master still slept, he knocked loudly at the
door, awoke his brother potentate, and entered. The
English monarch was as much amazed as his men-at-
arms by this bold proceeding ; but meeting his visitor
in the same spirit, he raised himself in his bed, and said
joyously, " Brother, you have played me the cleverest
trick that one man could do to another, and have
shown me the whole extent of the confidence which I
ought to place in you; as for myself, I surrender at
discretion, and am your prisoner from this moment."

As he spoke he unclasped a collar from his neck

30 Reign of

valued at fifteen thousand angels, and placed it in the
hand of Francis, praying him to accept and wear it for
the love of his captive ; whereupon Francis, who had
already designed to offer a pledge of friendship to his
new ally at this their first unconstrained meeting un-
clasped from his wrist a bracelet of twice the same
amount, and besought him to receive it as a token of
the love he bore him. The exchange was frankly
made; and while Henry was fastening the costly
manacle upon his arm, his visitor adjusted the collar
about his neck ; after which, amid laughter and jests,
the English King sprang from his bed, and was assisted
at his toilet by his unbidden but welcome guest, who
declared that for that day at least he should have no
other attendant ; and when with infinite merriment the
one had tendered, and the other had accepted, his
services, Francis took leave in order to return to
Ardres, despite the entreaties of Henry, who would
have detained him in order to prepare for the joust of
the afternoon.

On his way back to his own camp, Francis encoun-
tered a number of his nobles who had come to meet
him, alarmed for his safety ; and among the foremost
was Fleuranges, who reproached him bitterly for the
unnecessary peril in which he had placed himself ; but
the young King only jested at their uneasiness, de-
claring that henceforward the two nations would be
better friends than ever, and themselves enabled to
enjoy with a higher zest the pleasures by which they
were surrounded ; a prediction whose correctness was
confirmed on the following morning, when Henry
returned the visit of his brother monarch in the same

Francis I 31

manner in which it had been made ; and after a new
interchange of presents and professions, rode home
in his turn to Guisnes without guard or weapon.

Meanwhile the two Queens profited even more
greatly than their royal consorts by this well-conceived
confidence ; for, although they had felt a mutual esteem
from the first moment in which they met, their inter-
course had hitherto been constrained and ceremoni-
ous; whereas after this exchange of visits they found
themselves at once released from the trammels of eti-
quette and caution, and were enabled to cultivate each
other's society without impediment. The gratifica-
tion was great on both sides, for each was well able
to appreciate the other. It is true that at this period
the unfortunate Katherine of Aragon was still happy
in the love of her husband, while Claude was already
a neglected wife; but the gentle melancholy of the
English Queen, — a melancholy which almost seemed
a foretaste of the future, — harmonized well with the
heart-stricken sadness of her new friend. The one
was already sated with gaud and glitter, and the other
had never loved them. The happiest hours which they
passed together were consequently those when they
could converse freely and confidentially. Both were
mothers, and both also had lost some of the fair chil-
dren whom they had borne, in their first infancy ; thus
they never needed a subject of sympathy and interest,
but as they mutually mingled their tears and communi-
cated their sorrows, — those sorrows of the heart which
torture alike the lofty head that wears a royal diadem,
and the lowly brow that is shaded by a linen coif, —
their esteem grew into friendship, and they anticipated
with regret the hour of their separation.

32 Reign of

Nor did the nobles and ladies of the two courts fail
to profit by the cordiality which existed between their
respective monarchs. All distrust had vanished ; and
they mingled freely with each other, frequently even
passing the night in the rival city, and careless in what
number or in what guise they came and went.

To the tournament succeeded wrestling matches, in
which the English proved the victors; and to these
again archery, at which noble pastime Henry VIII.
himself distanced all competitors, and astonished those
who witnessed his feats, both by his strength and skill.
At the close of the day's sport the two Kings retired
to their pavilion, where, after they had pledged each
other, Henry, elated by his success, suddenly seized
Francis by the collar, exclaiming, " Come, brother, I
must have a tall with you ; " when the King of France,
who was an able wrestler, after a short struggle, threw
him with great force. On regaining his legs, Henry
would fain have renewed the attack, but some of the
nobles of both countries, who were more prudent than
their masters, dissuaded him from the attempt; and,
still with undiminished cordiality, the two monarchs
sat down together at the supper-table.

Nothing appears, indeed, more creditable to both
parties than the perfect order, courtesy, and good tem-
per exhibited on either side throughout the whole of
the exciting sports in which they were engaged. No
single misunderstanding marred the harmony of the
two courts; while this perfect good feeling extended
even to the men-at-arms, who vied with their leaders
in acts of reciprocal cordiality and kindness.

During the tournament the King of England gave a

Francis I 33

grand banquet to Francis and his court, in the tem-
porary palace without the gates of Guisnes, where no
magnificence was spared to do honour to his royal and
noble guests. The two Kings were seated side by side
in the centre of the upper table, while their Queens
occupied the space immediately in front of them ; the
English Cardinal having a stool on the right hand of
Francis, and the Connetable de Bourbon a similar
place of honour on the left of the English King. On
the following day Francis played the host. He had
caused to be erected for the occasion, also without the
walls of Guisnes, a splendid pavilion fifty feet square,
covered and draped with cloth of gold, and lined with
blue velvet, studded with fleurs-de-lis embroidered in
Cyprus gold, having four smaller pavilions at the
angles similarly adorned ; the whole supported by
ropes of gold Cyprus thread and blue silk. But this
costly erection was not fated to answer the purpose
for which it had been intended, a sudden storm of
wind having arisen which wrenched away the tent-
pins, broke the cords, and overthrew the whole fabric.
Orders were instantly issued to prepare another ban-
quet hall with all speed in one of the faubourgs of the
town ; and this was accomplished to the great delight
of the citizens, who forthwith christened it the Fau-
bourg of the Festival, a name which it still bears.

At the close of these banquets, Wolsey, desirous in
his turn to display his magnificence, performed a high
and solemn mass in a sumptuous chapel which he had
caused to be constructed during the previous night,
and which was so richly covered, both within and
without, by tapestry, that the material of which it was
Vol. II.— 3

34 Francis I

built could not be distinguished. The altar blazed
with light and gems ; the choristers of both courts
assisted in the ceremony; while the haughty prelate
himself stood upon the steps of the shrine, clad in his
pontifical robes, and surrounded by a crowd of Bish-
ops, Priests, and lay attendants. On the right of the
altar knelt the two monarchs, having behind them the
great nobles of their respective nations, promiscuously
grouped together ; and on the left their royal consorts,
attended by the principal ladies of their several suites.
When he had himself communicated, Wolsey, followed
by a train of mitred Bishops, bore the Eucharist with
great solemnity to the prostrate sovereigns ; after
which he advanced towards the sister Queens, who, be-
fore they received it, embraced each other with tears.
To them it was at once a holy and a parting pledge ;
and surely there was no irreverence in the intrusion of
a feeling so pure and sinless even at such a moment.
At the conclusion of the mass the treaty was con-
firmed, and peace between England and France pro-
claimed by the heralds of both nations. The betrothal
of the Dauphin with the Princess Mary, the daughter
of Henry, was duly solemnized ; several more days
were spent in jousts and banquets ; and, finally, on the
24th of June, the two Kings parted as publicly and
formally as they had met ; and while the English mon-
arch advanced to Guisnes, in order to proceed to
Calais and Gravelines, where he had appointed to meet
the Emperor after his interview with Francis, that
sovereign returned to France, with the full, but er-
roneous, conviction that thenceforward Henry of
England was his firm ally for life.

CHAPTER II.

The Differences between England and Scotland Submitte-
to the Arbitration of Wolsey and Louise de Savoie — Wol-
sey is Brought over to the Cause of the Emperor — Charles
V. and Henry VIII. Meet at Gravelines — Charles Proceeds
to Aix-la-Chapelle for His Coronation — Narrow Escape
of the French King — Charles Convokes a Diet at Worms
— Luther Defends His Doctrines — Is Outlawed — And Pro-
tected by the Elector of Saxony— Francis is Reluctant to
Commence the War — Ingratitude of Charles V. to Robert
de la Mark — La Mark Returns to His Allegiance, and De-
fies the Emperor — Policy of the Pope — The Spaniards Re-
volt— Arrogance of Charles V. — The Navarrese Solicit
Henri d'Albret to Claim His Crown — Francis Supplies Him
with Troops — Defence of the Citadel of Pampeluna — Igna-
tius Loyola — Surrender of Pampeluna to the French — Im-
prudence of the French General — He Enters Spain — The
Castilians Rise against Him — Lespare is Defeated and
Made Prisoner — The Emperor Marches an Army against
the Due de Gueldres — The Rival Sovereigns Appeal to
Henry VIII. — The Due de Gueldres Sues for a Truce —
Francis Fortifies His Frontiers — Duplicity of the Emperor
— The Comte de Nassau Takes Mouzon — A Conference
Opened at Calais — The Pope and Wolsey Meet at Bruges
— Bad Faith of Leo X. — Indignation of Francis against
the English King — His Self-reliance — Bayard Defends
Mezieres — Francis Encounters the Enemy near Valen-
ciennes, but Suffers Them to Escape — The Comte de Nas-
sau Summons Bayard to Surrender — Spirited Reply of the
Good Knight — A Ruse de Guerre — The Imperialists Raise
35

36 Reign of

the Siege — The Bottle of Wine — The Recompense of
Bayard — Gratitude of the Citizens of Mezieres to the Good
Knight — Francis Marches upon Picardy — Charles Joins
His Army at Valenciennes — Francis Confers the Command
of the Van-guard upon the Due d'Alenqon — Indignation
of Bourbon — Francis Returns to France, and Disbands His
Army.

NO public business of importance had after all been
transacted between the two sovereigns at the
gorgeous meeting of the Golden Camp, for the pre-
liminaries of the negotiation which was signed at
Ardres on the 6th of June in the previous year, had
already been arranged between the ministers on either
side ; and it was consequently only the specious pretext
for an outlay which exhausted the treasuries of both
nations, and left the nobles impoverished with debt.
The betrothal of the Dauphin and the Princess Mary
was, as we have elsewhere stated, solemnized ; but this
only added another opportunity of display to those by
which it had been preceded. The engagement of
France to pay to England the sum of a million of
crowns, at a hundred thousand francs yearly, until the
period of the marriage, was ratified; and the differ-
ences between England and Scotland were submitted
to the arbitration of Madame d'Angouleme and Wol-
sey.

Francis had, however, miscalculated the effect which
had been produced upon the mind of his brother-mon-
arch during the three weeks they had passed together ;
for he was not aware how craftily Charles, even in the
brief visit which he had recently made to England,
had worked upon the mind of the Cardinal-legate,

Francis I 37

alike through his avarice and his ambition. Although
considerably the senior of Leo X. in years, Wolsey,
accustomed to see all things bend before his will, never
appeared to apprehend that he might be outlived by
that pontiff; and accordingly, aware that from his
position as Emperor of Germany, Charles must neces-
sarily exercise considerable influence over the petty
princes throughout the empire, he lent a greedy ear
to his assurances that he would do all in his power to
secure his accession to the popedom ; while, as a guar-
antee of his sincerity, Charles, in addition to many rich
presents, conferred upon the prelate the two bishoprics
of Badajoz and Valencia, in Castile; and, this done,
informed him of the uneasiness which he experienced
at the probable effects of the meeting at Ardres. Wol-
sey, however, who well knew that Henry, in his love
of pleasure and display, would leave all important
measures in his own hands, soon succeeded in reliev-
ing the mind of the Emperor of this apprehension;
and, moreover, induced him to arrange a second inter-
view with Henry before the return of the latter to
England.

It was, consequently, in accordance with this
promise that Charles embarked at Cologne and pro-
ceeded to Gravelines, accompanied by the Lady-Regent
of the Low Countries, Marguerite de Savoie, where
he made such hasty preparations for the reception of
his royal guest as were practicable ; and was joined on
the 10th of July by Henry VIII. and a portion of his
court, among whom the Cardinal was prominent.
Neither Madame de Savoie nor himself spared care or
flattery in order to gain over both the legate and his

38 Reign of

royal master. With the first they had, however, little
difficulty, for all Wolsey's dreams were now full of the
triple crown; while Henry had so long accustomed
himself to refer all state questions to his minister, that
he was soon induced to violate the pledges which he
had given to the unsuspicious Francis, and to ally him-
self to the interests of the Emperor. His vanity was,
moreover, flattered by the assurance of Charles that
he considered him to be entrusted with the preserva-
tion of the peace of Europe ; and by his offer to accept
him as his arbitrator in all differences which might
arise between himself and the French King, as Francis
had already done.

After having remained the guest of the Emperor
and his aunt during several days, the English monarch
urged them to return with him to Calais, and to pay a
visit to Queen Katherine, who was awaiting them
there with her court. The invitation was accepted ;
and while Marguerite de Savoie used all her blandish-
ments to secure the same influence over the mind of
the English Queen which her imperial relative had
effected over that of Henry, Charles, even while he
appeared to be entirely engrossed by the festivities
which were taking place about him, was cautiously
and unobtrusively maturing his plans and strengthen-
ing his interests. Before his departure, a grand en-
tertainment took place in his honour and that of
Madame de Savoie, at which the whole of the two
courts were to be present ; and in order to give all
possible brilliancy to the festival, the King had caused
a spacious amphitheatre to be erected, lined with blue
velvet, and studded with stars of silver; while above

Francis I 39

the thrones destined to the three sovereigns, and the
fauteuil of the Regent, a sun of burnished gold blazed
out in the lustre of hundreds of tapers of pink wax, a
moon of frosted silver facing the dais upon which they
were placed.

By a curious coincidence, however, the same acci-
dent occurred to this building as to the banquet-
ing-pavilion of Francis at Ardres; for, just as the
preparations were concluded, and the guests about to
assemble, a violent tempest supervened which over-
threw the whole fabric, and rendered it of no avail.
The revellers consoled themselves as best they might
for this disappointment ; and after a few days more
had been consumed in covert business and open pleas-
ure, the sovereigns once more parted, Henry return-
ing to England, and Charles proceeding through
Flanders and Brabant to Aix-la-Chapelle ; where his
coronation as King of the Romans and Emperor of
Germany took place on the 23d of October, with a
pomp exceeding any which had before been witnessed
upon such an occasion.

Francis, on removing his camp from the Field of
Cloth of Gold, had hastened to Amboise to inform
Madame d'Angouleme of the supposed success of his
expedition, and thence removed with his court to
Romorantin to celebrate the remaining winter festivi-
ties ; when an accident befell him on the evening of
Twelfth Night, (1521), which had nearly put an end
to his existence. Having ascertained that the king-
cake* had been cut at the house of the Comte de St. Pol,

* It was the fashion in France to cause a bean to be concealed in a
large cake, which was divided and distributed among the guests, the

40 Reign of

and that the mimic sovereign had been elected, Francis
arranged with those about him that they would
despatch a formal defiance to the hotel of the Comte,
and declare their intention of doing battle against the
usurper. The message was received in the same spirit
of mirth that it had been sent; and as the snow lay
deep upon the ground, the besieged party lost no time
in supplying their garrison with the means of repelling
the attack. Immense snowballs, eggs, and apples,
were laid in heaps after the fashion of ammunition;
and for a time, the assailants being armed with the
same missiles, the sport went gaily on ; but, unfortu-
nately, before its close, as the King's followers, pur-
suing a temporary advantage, were about to force the
door of the hotel, some individual within was ill-
advised enough to throw a burning brand which he
had snatched from the hearth through one of the win-
dows, which fell upon the head of Francis, and inflicted
a deep and serious wound.

For several days his life was in great danger, and
his surgeons found it necessary to remove the whole
of his hair, of which, from its extreme beauty and
luxuriance, he had been very vain ; but despite this
mortification he withstood all the remonstrances of
his mother, who was anxious to punish the author of
this misfortune, and would not permit his identity to
be ascertained ; declaring with a generosity which did
him honour, that the blow, heavy as it was, had not
only been inflicted in sport, but that it was the mere

fortunate finder of the bean being declared king for the evening, cere-
moniously attended whithersoever he went, and his commands implicitly
obeyed.

Francis I 41

effect of accident which rendered him the sufferer ; and
reminding her that when a sovereign condescended to
engage in the pastimes of a child, like that child he
must be content to pay the penalty of his folly.

From this period he never again suffered his hair
to grow, but wore it clipped close ; a fashion which was
immediately adopted by the whole of the courtiers.

Despite the increasing jealousy of Francis and the
Emperor, neither the one nor the other was as yet
anxious to terminate the peace. Charles — in addition
to the discontent which he had to encounter in Spain,
where his subjects had declared themselves resolved
to support their political claims — was, moreover, called
to contend against a formidable fermentation in Ger-
many, occasioned by the rapid progress of the Luth-
eran doctrines. The Pope had fulminated a bull of
excommunication against the bold and zealous re-
former on the 15th of June of the previous year, and a
great portion of his writings had been condemned as
heretical ; a proceeding which Luther had retorted by
publicly burning the Papal document; while Charles
himself had no sooner assumed the silver crown, than
he had, in his turn, convoked a diet of the empire at
Worms, in order, as he declared, " to occupy himself
in suppressing the progress of the new and dangerous
opinions which disturbed the peace of Germany, and
threatened to overthrow the religion of their ances-
tors." But, notwithstanding this measure, it is not
the less certain that he sent an honourable safe-conduct
to Luther, and invited him to Worms, where he met
with a cordial reception, not only from the bulk of
the people, but also from many of the greateS£gP$>

42 Reign of

sons of the empire; a proof that his principles had
already planted themselves deeply in the public mind.
He was even permitted to declare and defend them
before the diet, which he did with a calmness and
courage that sufficiently demonstrated the righteous-
ness of his cause ; after which he was permitted to re-
turn under the protection of the same herald-at-arms
by whom he had been conducted to the city ; although
the diet saw fit after his departure to fulminate against
him a condemnation declaring him an outlaw, as be-
ing an excommunicated heretic; from the conse-
quences of which severity he was saved by the Elector
of Saxony, who caused him to be carried off by a party
of men in masks, and conducted to the fortress of
Wartburg, where he remained in safety for nine
months, although his friends were as ignorant of his
retreat as his enemies.

Francis was not unaware of the difficulties with which
the new Emperor had to contend; and satisfied by
what he had already seen, that should he be enabled to
adjust them, he must inevitably become a dangerous
rival, he could not restrain his desire to curtail his
power; but he was still unwilling to be the first to
declare a hostility which must, as its first and inevi-
table consequence, separate him for a time from the
society of Madame de Chateaubriand, and exhaust the
resources which he required to meet the mere per-
sonal expenses necessitated by the expensive pleas-
ures in which he loved to indulge; and accordingly,
instead of taking high ground, and meeting his ad-
versary in a catholic spirit, he compromised with his
pride by subjecting him to petty annoyances which

Francis I 43

could only ultimately tend to engender a European
warfare.

Charles had doubly falsified his royal word ; first as
regarded Navarre, where he had failed to redeem the
pledge almost voluntarily given ; and secondly as to
Naples, which kingdom he still held, without evincing
the slightest disposition to abandon any portion of his
tenure; while M. de la Mark, Due de Gueldres, the
old and faithful ally of France, who had been for a
season diverted from his allegiance, made loud and
bitter complaints of the disloyalty of the Emperor in
neglecting to fulfil his promises ; and at length en-
treated the support of France in his attempt at self-
defence. He considered himself deeply aggrieved,
inasmuch as his right to the Duchy of Bouillon, which
he inherited from an ancestor, had been disputed ; and
the Sieur d'Emery had taken one of the cities by force
of arms without any remonstrance from Charles, who,
moreover, refused to interfere in his behalf further
than by promises which he afterwards neglected ; even
permitting the Chancellor of Brabant, who had been
bribed to that effect, to declare against his claim ;
whereupon De la Mark proceeded to Sedan, and de-
manded an audience, wherein he declared that if jus-
tice was not done, he would abandon the cause of a
sovereign who had so ill repaid his services during his
election.

The Emperor, indignant at this threat, heightened
the misunderstanding by retorting that the Due de
Gueldres was at perfect liberty to act as he saw fit, his
adhesion being of small importance to either party ;
and Louise de Savoie was no sooner informed of this

44 Reign of

outbreak than she wrote an autograph letter to the
discontented noble, inviting him to return to his
allegiance to Francis. The proposal was at once ac-
cepted, to the great regret of Marguerite de Savoie,
who estimated at its real value the friendship of so
brave and zealous a noble, and who spared no exer-
tions to induce him to retract his resolution.

The Duke was, however, firm ; his pride had been
wounded and his dignity compromised; and he ac-
cordingly presented himself at Romorantin, where
Francis was still confined by his wound ; and after ex-
pressing his regret for his momentary defalcation,
ultimately placed in his hands not only his person, but
also his possessions ; entreating him to afford him help,
succour, and assistance to revenge the grievous wrong
which he had experienced from the Emperor; a step
which he had no sooner taken than Charles, who be-
came convinced of his error, endeavoured to regain
him by representing that what had been done was
effected without his authority, and that all might yet
be rectified ; but the concession came too late ; the Duke
had suffered more than he was ready to forgive, and
was resolved to regain by force what he had lost by
fraud.

This was the last drop which caused the vase of the
French King's patience to overflow; or, perhaps, it
was the first plausible pretext he could seize upon to
justify a commencement of those hostilities which he
had previously deferred. He consequently accepted
the renewed assurances of fealty proffered by the Duke ;
and so soon as the latter had effected the reconciliation,
he sent an envoy to the Emperor — who was then at

Francis I 45

Worms attending the diet which he had invoked of
all the Princes and delegates from the free towns of
Germany, to suppress the doctrines of Luther — to
defy him before the assembly ; a proceeding which,
instituted as it was by a subject, was treated with dis-
dain alike by Charles and his nobility.

Nevertheless the Duke lost no time in following up
his demonstration ; and the Marquis de Fleuranges,
his elder son, in opposition to the express commands
of Francis, levied in France and the neighbouring
nations a force of four or five thousand infantry, and
between fourteen and fifteen hundred mounted troops,
and besieged Vireton, a small town in Luxembourg,
on the confines of Lorraine. He was subsequently,
however, induced to raise the siege, and to disband
his little army, at the request of Francis, to whom
Henry VIII. despatched an envoy, entreating him not
to enter into hostilities with the Emperor, but to sub-
mit to his arbitration any misunderstanding which
might have arisen.

The sovereign pontiff was, meanwhile, less pacifi-
cally disposed than the sovereigns of Germany,
France, and England. He affected to smile at the
uneasiness evinced by Charles at the progress of the
religious schism, declaring that after all it was a mere
monkish quarrel, which might be easily and effectually
terminated ; and, anxious only for the aggrandizement
of the Holy See, he continued to exert his utmost
efforts to weaken the power of the rival monarchs by
turning them against each other, although himself
undecided for the time whose interests he should
adopt. His profuse expenditure had compelled him to

46 Reign of

levy exorbitant subsidies on all sides ; and his ultimate
ambition was, either to reunite to the States of the
Church the provinces of Parma and Placenza, now
held by the French as a portion of the Duchy of Milan,
or to obtain the cession of some part of the Neapolitan
kingdom from the Spaniards.

The crafty Pope was for the moment careless in
which measure he succeeded, but in order to secure
either the one or the other, he commenced a secret
negotiation with both monarchs ; proposing to Charles
to enter into a league with him for driving the French
from Italy, on condition that the Duchy of Milan
should be restored to Francisco Sforza,* and Parma,
Placenza, and Ferrara ceded to the Holy See ; and a
treaty to this effect was actually signed between the
contracting parties on the 8th of May; while at the
same time he suggested to Francis the expediency of
their conjointly attacking the Spaniards in the King-
dom of Naples, expelling them thence, and then di-
viding the country by attaching all that portion of
Campania Felix, which extended to the Garigliano,
to the States of the Church ; and securing the re-
mainder of the kingdom to the second son of Francis,
subject to the guardianship of an apostolical legate
until his majority. In this proposition he was equally
successful, and a second treaty was signed between
himself and the French King ; M. de Lautrec permit-
ting six thousand Swiss troops in the pay of the Pope
to traverse the territories of the Milanese, on the un-
derstanding that they were to be employed in the

* Francisco-Maria Sforza, the brother of Maximilian Duke of Milan, was
restored to his possessions by Charles V.; and died in 1535, without
issue. At his death the Emperor took possession of the Duchy of Milan,
which passed to his own successors.

Francis I

47

execution of the said treaty. Although these negotia-
tions had been pursued with the greatest secresy, Lau-
trec, who had always been upon bad terms with the
court of Rome, nevertheless began ere long to suspect
the sincerity of the Pope; and induced Francis, to
whom he communicated his misgivings, to delay the
ratification of the league.

Meanwhile the revolt in Spain spread far and fast ;
and the Emperor accused the French King of secretly
encouraging these intestine troubles by sheltering his
enemies. He also reiterated his demand for the resti-
tution of the Duchy of Burgundy, which he affected
to declare had descended to himself through the Prin-
cess Mary, and had only been usurped by Louis XI. ;
claiming a sovereign right over the province, and de-
claring that Francis held no title there beyond that of
his feudatory. While, however, he put forward these
pretensions, he was unable to maintain his authority
in Spain ; tumult and misrule existed on all sides ; the
jealousy which subsisted between his Flemish and his
Spanish subjects was daily aggravated by new out-
rages ; and he found his influence almost at an end
throughout the kingdom.

Under these circumstances Henri d'Albret, King of
Navarre, began once more to indulge the hope of re-
covering his crown. The disaffected party in Spain
had applied to Francis to allow the young sovereign
to enter Navarre, assuring him that it would prove an
easy conquest, the Cardinal-Governor, Adrian, Bishop
of Tortosa,* having withdrawn all the troops from that

* Adrian, Bishop of Tortosa, was a Dutchman by birth ; and was subse-
quently Pope under the designation of Adrian VI. He succeeded Leo X. in
1522; and died in the following year. He had been preceptor to Charles V. ;
and shared the regency of Spain with the Cardinal de Ximenes.

48 Reign of

province to the interior of Spain. At the same time
the Navarrese themselves invited their legitimate
monarch to vindicate his rights, and to relieve them
from the tyranny of a usurper ; assuring him that if he
would only appear among them, " the very stones,
mountains, and trees, would take up arms in his
cause."

Thus Francis was, without any belligerent demon-
stration on his own part, suddenly furnished with a
plausible pretext for indulging his jealousy of Charles ;
but still, conscious of the immense responsibility of
taking the initiative in a war which might, before its
conclusion, convulse all Europe, he desired that the
expedition should be undertaken in the name of Henri
d'Albret himself, and that he should not be held per-
sonally responsible for its results. To these terms the
young King, eager to re-possess his territories, gladly
assented; and an army, under the command of
Madame de Chateaubriand's second brother, the
Marquis de Lesparre, who as a relative of the deposed
sovereign was supposed to act only in his name and
by his authority, was speedily organized, in which M.
de Guise, the brother of the Due de Lorraine, took the
command of the lansquenets. No time was lost in
marching upon Navarre, where the first efforts of the
Marquis proved eminently sucessful ; and he proceeded
without any important check until he reached Pampe-
luna, where he was received with transport by the citi-
zens, but repulsed by the garrison of the citadel ; which,
although the viceroy had considered it impossible to
march a sufficient force to its relief to insure its safety,
held out during several days, through the extraordi-

Francis I 49

nary courage of a young officer, who in this moment
of peril assumed the command, and infused new energy
into the failing hearts of the soldiery.

Ignatius Loyola, whose name was destined to be-
come so famous as the founder of the Jesuits, was at
that period a military hero ; and it was only when those
over whom he had assumed the command insisted
upon a capitulation that he was reluctantly obliged to
yield ; but even then he could not be brought to con-
sent to a measure against which his high and martial
spirit revolted, until he obtained the consent of his
companions that he should be present when the terms
of the capitulation were adjusted ; and he had no sooner
found that they were so arbitrary and severe as to in-
volve the honour of his cause, than he abruptly termi-
nated the conference, declaring that he would rather
be buried under the ruins of the citadel than lend his
countenance to such a compromise.

Hostilities were consequently resumed by the
French, against which merely individual valour could
not contend ; and during an assault which he headed
in person, Loyola had one leg broken by a cannon-
shot, and the other crushed by a stone from the walls.
As he fell, the hopes of his followers fell with him ;
they attempted no further resistance ; and Pampeluna
surrendered, involving in its capture the whole King-
dom of Navarre.

Had Lesparre been as prudent as he was bold, he
might have followed up his advantage, and secured
his conquest ; but, eager to extend his triumph, he was
rash enough to enter Spain, upon which the great
nobles of Castile became alarmed, and urging the
Vol. II.— 4

5<d Reign of

people to forego for a time their intestine ouarrels in
order to expel the common enemy, succeeded in orga-
nizing a powerful force, with which they marched to
Logrogno, already in a state of siege through the head-
long impetuosity of Lesparre; attacked his army,
weakened by the disbanding of a portion of its in-
fantry, which an ill-timed economy had induced him
to dispense with, under the impression that he should
not encounter greater difficulties in Spain than those
which he had just so happily overcome in Navarre;
and, moreover, rendered less efficient by a want of dis-
cipline engendered by success.

The attack of the Spaniards, however, infuriated by
the dread of a new tyrant in the person of the French
King, who was even less bound to their national in-
terests than Charles ; and the fact that they came fresh
into the field against a body of harassed and toilworn
men, soon caused the Marquis to repent his error. An
engagement ensued which terminated in the total rout
6f the French forces, who were not only compelled to
abandon the siege of Pampeluna, but even to meet the
enemy a second time in the plain of Squiros, where
their fate was decided, and Lesparre himself about to
be made prisoner, when, resolved not to survive a dis-
grace he had so little apprehended, he abandoned all
further authority over his bewildered army, and
spurred his horse into the very thickest of the enemy's
ranks, in order to die upon the field. He was not,
however, fated to succeed even in this melancholy at-
tempt; for, although covered with wounds, and with
his casque beaten into his face by a blow from a mace
which deprived him of his sight for ever, he was made

Francis I 51

captive by his enemies, together with most of his
principal officers; and thus again he was condemned
to feel that Navarre was lost.

Meanwhile, enraged by the insolence of the Due de
Gueldres, the Emperor despatched the Comte de Nas-
sau to invade and devastate his territories ; a command
which was obeyed and executed with a barbarity re-
volting to every principle of dignity and humanity.
Both the Emperor and Francis at this juncture ap-
pealed to Henry VIII., each declaring the other to be
the aggressor, and calling upon him to assist in re-
venging their wrongs ; but the English King, who was
not sorry to see them thus mutually undermining their
strength without any exertion on his own part, con~
tented himself by entreating both the one and the other
not lightly to involve themselves in so serious a war,
and to leave everything to his mediation. As the two
monarchs could hope for no more efficient assistance,
they agreed to this proposition, and accordingly con-
sented to open a conference at Calais on the 4th of
August, under the presidency of Wolsey ; Francis only
demanding that the pontifical legates should be pres-
ent, who would, as he believed, (unconscious as he was
that Leo X. had abandoned his interests,) compel jus-
tice for him, should any necessity arise for their inter-
vention. The French King, moreover, enjoined the
Due de Gueldres to lay down his arms ; a command
which was obeyed, not because Robert de la Mark had
forgotten the wrong which he had experienced from
Charles, but because he believed that all intention of
hostility towards him had now been abandoned by the
Emperor. He, however, fearfully deceived himself;

52 Reign of

for he had no sooner disbanded a great portion of his
army, and rendered himself defenceless, than the
Comte de Nassau pursued his advantage with merci-
less ferocity, and he found himself compelled to sue
for a truce, which was granted because it served only
to involve him in still greater ruin ; for so soon as it
expired Charles lost no time in seizing the whole of
his territories, and in marching a division of his army
to the French frontier.

Before this movement was effected, however, Frati-
" cis had felt the imperative necessity of placing his
kingdom in an efficient state of defence ; and, after
having strengthened the frontier of Burgundy, had
turned his attention to those of Champagne and
Picardy, which were totally unguarded. He conferred
the government of the former upon the Due d'Alen-
con, the husband of his sister; and that of the latter
upon the Due de Vendome; and this done, he com-
manded the Admiral Bonnivet to lead a new force into
Navarre, to revenge the insult received by Lesparre;
and then he began assiduously to recruit and organize
an army to resist the reprisals of the Emperor, which
he was aware must be the result of such a measure.

Meanwhile the Comte de Nassau had been apprised
of the approach of the Due d'Alencon with a force of
twenty thousand men ; while, having passed the French
frontier, (despite all the asseverations of his imperial
master, that he had no hostile intentions towards
France,) he was laying siege to the city of Mouzon ;
yet, notwithstanding this practical illustration of his
insincerity, Charles, who was then at Brussels, on
learning that the French had in their turn intruded on
4»i'.o.wn 'territories, had the duplicity to exclaim:

- -

Francis I 53

" Thank God that it was not I who commenced this
war, and that it is the King of France who seeks to
aggrandize me ; for in a short time I will be a pauper
Emperor, or he shall be a pauper monarch."

M. de Nassau began his invasion under fortunate
auspices, for Mouzon, possessing neither provisions,
ammunition, nor garrison, was totally unable to resist
so formidable an enemy ; its whole armed force con-
sisting only of a single company of infantry, under
the command of the Seigneur de Montmoreau ; * who,,
hopeless as was the contest, declared that he would
die within the walls rather than surrender ; but finding
that neither his troops nor the citizens themselves
would make an effort to save the town, he was com-
pelled to capitulate; and after having received a sol-
emn pledge that the lives of all should be spared, he
suffered the gates to be opened, and delivered up the
citadel.

During this time the Chancellor Duprat, the Mare-
chal de Chabannes, and Jean de Selve, had reached
Calais, where they were to meet the ambassadors of
the Emperor, in order, through the mediation of Wol-
sey, to effect, if possible, a reconciliation between their
two sovereigns. The Cardinal was, however, aware
that Leo X. had abandoned the cause of Francis for
that of Charles ; and not content with furthering his
own interests by consulting those of the latter, he even
so far laid aside all disguise as to visit him at Bruges
during the conference, where he was received with the
same state and splendour as though he had been the

* The Seigneur de Montmoreau was Master of the Horse in Brittany,
and Governor of Mouzon.

•«* tip *

54 Reign of

sovereign of England instead of its minister ; while he
on his part declared that all he required to ascertain
was, which of the parties had been the original ag-
gressor, as Henry VIII. must, in conformity to the
treaties into which he had entered, declare against the
first who had disregarded them. M. de Chievres was
recently dead, and had in his last moments expressed
his regret at the renewal of hostilities ; but the imperial
ministers, disregarding the league of Noyon which he
had negotiated, nevertheless advanced claims which
were so exorbitant that they amounted to a declaration
of war, and were at once repulsed by the French en-
voys.

Charles was supported in these arrogant pretensions
by a consciousness of the partiality of the mediators, a
bias in his favour of which he did not fail to take ad-
vantage ; and thus once more he was bold enough to
require the restitution of the Duchy of Burgundy,
which, had it been conceded, would have given him
entrance into the heart of France ; and to demand to
be freed from the homage which his ancestors had
done to the French sovereigns for Flanders and Ar-
tois ; and which, by the treaty of Noyon, he had per-
sonally pledged himself to continue. Nothing overt
was consequently accomplished ; but the crafty Cardi-
nal availed himself of the opportunity to give a secret
pledge to the Emperor that Henry should declare in
his favour, and assist him during the course of the
following year with a force of forty thousand men.
He, moreover, betrothed Charles to the Princess Mary,
who still being the only child of Henry, began to be
considered as the probable heir to the crown ; utterly

Francis I 55

regardless of the fact that he had in person previously
performed the ceremony of affiance between her and
the Dauphin of France at Ardres. Charles was dazzled
by the prospect of a new crown, and eagerly entered
into the arrangement ; while Wolsey himself saw in it
another bond to knit more closely his own interests
and those of his imperial ally.

Francis was not deceived by the result of this con-
ference ; but at once discovered that he had been duped,
and must prepare to defend himself against other ene-
mies than the Emperor. Of the bad faith of Henry
and his minister he no longer entertained a doubt,
while his suspicion of the double-dealing of the Pope
increased from day to day. Nevertheless, the spirit
of the King rose with the difficulties by which he saw
himself surrounded.

" All the European sovereigns conspire against me,"
he said haughtily ; " but I shall find means to answer
them. I care little either for the Emperor, or for my
cousin of England ; my frontier of Picardy is fortified,
and the Flemish are poor soldiers. As for Italy, I will
take charge of that ; while I pay the Swiss they will
fight for me, and I have sent to summon them here
with their pikes."

Among the most important places which were likely
to be first attacked by the enemy was Mezieres, which
many of the King's advisers counselled him to burn
down, and by destroying the environs to starve out the
army of M. de Nassau, whose supplies would thus be
cut off. This measure was justified, as they declared,
by the impossibility of introducing a sufficient garrison
within the walls before it was besieged ; an event which

56 Reign of

the proximity of the imperial troops rendered every
hour probable. Bayard, however, seeing that Francis
hesitated to sanction so extreme a measure, seized the
fortunate moment, and energetically discountenanced
such a proceeding.

" You are told that the place is too weak to resist,
Sire," he said boldly; " no place is weak which is de-
fended by brave men. Let the old walls stand, and
permit me to assist in their defence."

" To yourself I will confide the city," replied Fran-
cis, struck with the confidence of the good knight;
" take with you whom you will, and strike for the
honour of France, and the dignity of your monarch."

Without losing another instant he then instructed
the Due d'Alenqon to supply the little army of Bayard
with all which he might require, and despatched M. de
Lorge to provision and arm the city, while the brave
Pierre Terrail summoned about him all his chosen
comrades; but as his name ever acted like a spell upon
the chivalry of France, he soon found himself more-
over surrounded by a host of gallant men who were
anxious to acquire glory by fighting at his side. All
pride of rank was for the time forgotten by these noble
volunteers; and Bayard, with natural self-gratulation,
welcomed to his ranks some of the haughtiest blood
throughout the kingdom. Among the first who pre-
sented themselves were the Seigneur de Montmoreau,
and his lieutenant M. de Boncar, each with a thousand
lances, and both eager to avenge their defeat at Mou-
zon. The flower of the nobility of Dauphiny followed ;
and even Anne de Montmorency, the favourite of
Francis, did not disdain to swell the list of his subordi-

Francis I 57

nates. The city was no longer defenceless; its walls
bristled with spears; and its strength lay not so much
in the glittering breast-pieces which flashed in the
sunlight, as in the bold hearts that beat beneath
them.

While the garrison of Mezieres was thus assembling,
Francis — who had been sojourning at Rheims, where
his army was daily reinforced by the arrival both of
horse and foot, including several strong parties of
Swiss mercenaries — proceeded by Guise into the Cam-
bresis; and on the 22d of October overtook the forces
of the Comte de Nassau between Cambray and Va-
lenciennes, on their way to the latter city, where the
Imperialist general was about to retire for a time to
rest and refresh the troops, who were suffering greatly
from fatigue. La Tremouille and Chabannes were
eager to attack the imperialists, and strongly urged
this measure upon the King; reminding him that the
enemy had still three leagues to travel over the plain
before they could shelter themselves behind the walls
of a fortress; but Francis, by some strange perversity,
refused to listen to the suggestion until the whole of
his army should have crossed the river, and the thick
fog which then hung over them be dispersed. It was
in vain that they implored him to recant his resolu-
tion; he remained firm, and M. de Nassau was conse-
quently enabled to make good his escape with his
whole force.

It is certain, according to Du Bellay, that had the
King authorised the proposed attack he would easily
have defeated the retreating force, and thus materially
crippled the resources of the Emperor; a fact of which

58 Reign of

he became subsequently so conscious that he was over-
whelmed with grief, and during the night most im-
prudently departed for Flanders, attended by a hun-
dred horse, thus abandoning the rest of the army.
" That day," says the same chronicler, in a burst of
patriotic grief, " God had delivered our enemy into our
hands, and we would not accept the offering ; a refusal
which has since cost us dear."

Bayard was, meanwhile, less supine. He caused all
the inhabitants of Mezieres who could not be rendered
available in case of siege to retire beyond the walls ;
after which he demolished the drawbridge, and con-
voked an assembly of the sheriffs, whom he compelled
to make oath that they would never urge a surrender,
but defend the town even to the death. " And if our
provisions should fail us, gentlemen," he said gaily,
" we will devour our horses and our boots."

The calm confidence of the good knight inspired the
citizens with new courage, and they all swore to per-
ish rather than capitulate. He then turned his atten-
tion to the walls, and busied himself in repairing the
old breaches, which had been suffered to remain in a
state of daily increasing dilapidation, not only working
himself, but even distributing among the labourers the
sum of six thousand crowns from his own purse. He
appeared to be ubiquitous, for while one asserted that
he saw him at the gate of the town, another declared
that he was upon the rampart ; while a third affirmed
that he had passed him in one of the streets of the city.
He felt that the preservation of the place had been
entrusted to him ; and while he was indulgent to all
under his command, he was inexorable towards him-
self.

Francis 1 59

Bayard, in fact, felt a conviction that not a moment
must be lost, and his prescience had not deceived him ;
the city was shortly afterwards invested; and while
Seckingen at the head of fifteen thousand men attacked
it on one bank of the Meuse, the Comte de Nassau
with twenty thousand more threatened it from the
other.

Ere long, however, a herald-at-arms appeared be-
fore the gates and summoned Bayard to surrender,
declaring that the place could not hold out against the
imperial forces ; and that, in consideration of the high
and noble chivalry which was contained within its
walls, the imperial generals were reluctant to take it
by assault, and thus tarnish his personal honour and
that of his noble companions ; while they moreover
feared for the life of one like himself, who, should he
perish defeated, would by such a death efface the
memory of all his great and heroic deeds; while, on
the contrary, they were willing to concede to him such
honourable terms as must tend to satisfy his self-
respect.

Bayard with some difficulty compelled himself to
hear this harangue to an end ; after which he declared
that he was astounded by the great courtesy of the
besieging generals, of whom he himself knew nothing ;
and then, assuming a more haughty attitude, he added :
" Friend Herald, return to your camp, and tell your
leaders that the King my sovereign could have sent
many more efficient persons than myself to defend his
city and his frontier ; but that since he has seen fit to
honour me with the trust, I hope, by the help of God,
to keep it for him for such a length of time that your

6o Reign of

masters will be more weary of maintaining the siege
than I shall be of defending my post. I am no longer
a child to be deluded by high-sounding phrases ; and
therefore say to them, moreover, that if I ever leave
the city which has been confided to me, it shall be over
a bridge of their own bodies, and those of their fol-
lowers."

This fearless answer to his summons exasperated
M. de Nassau, who immediately issued an order for
the attack. His artillery was pointed against the walls
upon two separate sides, but the fire was steadily and
unceasingly returned; when suddenly the volunteers
who had been brought to Mezieres by M. de Mont-
moreau, being inexperienced in warfare, became panic-
struck, wavered, and fled. Some of the French sol-
diery endeavoured to rally them, but Bayard instantly
ordered that they should be allowed to escape over the
walls without molestation. " Let them go," he said
calmly, " we shall be stronger without them ; for crav-
ens such as these are not worthy to win glory by the
side of braver men."

Meanwhile the good knight became conscious that
the division of troops under Seckingen, having secured
a more elevated position, harassed his own followers
more than those upon the other bank, and he resolved
to have recourse to stratagem in order to induce him
to change his ground; a measure which he was the
more anxious to adopt from the fact that his provisions
were rapidly decreasing, and that his garrison was be-
ginning to suffer from sickness.

He had ascertained from one of his emissaries that
altercations had arisen in the enemy's camp, where the

Francis I 61

Comte de Nassau and Seckingen were contending
against each other for the supreme command of the
besieging army; and in order to aggravate this mis-
understanding he addressed a letter to the Due de
Gueldres, in which he stated that, aware of his regard
for the Sieur de Seckingen, he had thought it advisable
to inform him that if his friend did not speedily shift
his position he and all his camp would be cut to pieces
within four-and-twenty hours, as a force of twelve
thousand Swiss and eight hundred horsemen would
fall upon him at dawn ; while he should himself make
a sally from the town, by which means he would be
enclosed, and could have no hope of escape; adding,
moreover, that as the Due had assured him some
months back that M. de Seckingen might be induced
to join the cause of France, he should be glad to see
so desirable a measure accomplished, and to welcome
so brave a soldier to the banner of the lilies. This
done, he committed the letter to the care of a peasant,
to whom he gave a crown, desiring him to carry it
forthwith to Messire Robert de la Mark at Sedan, and
to tell him that it was sent by Captain Bayard.

As a natural consequence the letter fell into the
hands of one of Seckingen's followers, who forthwith
conveyed the messenger to the tent of his general ;
when the partisan, believing that the Comte de Nassau
meant to sacrifice him, immediately struck his tents,
and abandoned the advantageous position which he
had hitherto occupied. This movement could not be
effected without attracting the attention of the Count,
who instantly despatched a messenger to represent to
Seckingen the probable effect of such a proceeding,

62 Reign of

endangering as it did the total failure of their opera-
tions ; but he received only a haughty answer. " Tell
M. de Nassau," was the reply, " that I shall act as I see
fit, having no inclination to remain and be butchered
for his pleasure ; but that I shall take up my quarters
beside his own, and we shall see after we have met who
will remain master of the field."

The Count, who after this message of defiance felt
persuaded that his late comrade Seckingen was in fact
passing the Meuse with the intention of attacking him,
drew out his troops in order of battle ; an attitude which
was immediately imitated by the irritated Seckingen,
and an engagement was about to ensue, when the as»
sembled officers on both sides interfered, and pre-
vented the collision. Nevertheless the two generals
continued implacable ; they haughtily refused to con-
descend to any explanation ; mutually distrustful, each
looked upon the other as a covert enemy ; and on the
following day they separately raised the siege.

During an entire week the officers of Charles found
it impossible to reconcile the two adversaries, but at
length they were induced to forego their quarrel ; upon
which Seckingen entered Picardy, burning and de-
vastating all that he encountered on his way until he
reached Guise, where he halted ; while M. de Nassau
on his side shaped his course northward, carrying
terror wherever he encamped, putting to death such
of his soldiers as had served under his rival, betraying
his suspicion of every one about him, and committing
a thousand acts of idle and undiscriminating cruelty.
His army resembled a beleaguered city ; a secret police
was organized, and his spies invaded even the tents and

Francis I 63

private correspondence of his officers ; executions were
of daily occurrence, and a spirit of terror and conster-
nation pervaded the whole of the troops. The sword
of Damocles hung suspended above the camp, and
none knew upon whose head it would next fall.

During this panic Bayard had made a sortie which
proved highly successful, as it increased the confusion
in the ranks of M. de Nassau, while at the same time it
afforded an opportunity for a powerful reinforcement
to be introduced into the beleaguered city, and the
approach of M. d'Alengon to within three leagues of
the gates. Nevertheless the imperial general, reluct-
ant to abandon an enterprise in which he had flattered
himself with success, was unwilling to raise the siege
until he could by some method convince himself that
the garrison were no longer in danger of famine ; upon
which a veteran captain, an old companion in arms of
Bayard, who had spent his whole life in the service
of the French in Italy, but who had now been gained
over to the cause of the Emperor, volunteered to
despatch a trumpet to the fortress to request a bottle
of wine from the commandant for the sake of their
ancient friendship.

" Tell the good knight," he said to the messenger,
as he was preparing to set forth, " that it is for Captain
Gros-Jean of Picardy, who will drink health and long
life to him in his own wine, whether it be old or new."

To this application Bayard replied by sending two
bottles, one of each description named, which he
caused the envoy himself to fetch from the cellar, where
he showed him huge casks all filled; desiring him to
assure his master that he was welcome to repeat the

64 Reign of

pledge whenever he needed to do so, as the garrison of
Mezieres had enough and to spare during the time
that the siege was likely to hold out.

The envoy returned, and by reporting what he had
seen and heard, fully convinced M\ de Nassau that the
city was as impregnable as ever ; little suspecting that
the barrels in the fortress cellar were merely water-
casks, and that the wine so freely given had been part
of the lading of three wagons, which the French had
only the previous evening succeeded in introducing
within the gates.

In consequence of this conviction he at once struck
his tents, leaving Bayard master of the city after a re-
sistance of three weeks ; during which time, although
no battle had been fought, the good knight had, never-
theless, evinced so much courage and military science,
and had caused so great a loss among the imperial
troops, that Francis at once felt he could no longer
leave such eminent merit unrecompensed, and forth-
with conferred on him the collar of the Order of Philip
Augustus, and gave him the command of a hundred
men-at-arms ; a prerogative hitherto monopolized by
individuals of princely rank.

When the imperial troops had withdrawn, Bayard,
who had no further occupation within the walls whence
he had driven his assailants, prepared for his return
to the royal camp, amid the shouts and benedictions of
the citizens whom he had saved from plunder and out-
rage ; the people crowded about him, the bells of the
churches and convents rang out a joyous peal; and
thenceforward the whole population of Mezieres re-
ligiously observed with prayer and festivity the anni-
versary of their deliverance.

Francis I 65

The letter in which Francis announced to his mother
the relief of Mezieres was even more inconsequent
than a former one to which we have already made allu-
sion ; while, not content with expressing himself in
terms wholly inconsistent with his kingly dignity, he
even so far forgot his respect for sacred things as to
entreat his mother to cause thanksgivings to be
offered up to the Almighty, with the reverend addition,
" car sans poynt de fote, il a montre ce coup qu'yl est
bon Frangois." After so blasphemous and presumptu-
ous an expression as this, our wonder ceases that there
should have been a blight upon his arms !

The siege of Mezieres once happily terminated, the
French King proceeded in pursuit of the imperial
troops; who, baffled in Champagne, were ravaging
Picardy, and spreading terror in every direction. The
fortresses which they had destroyed on the frontier of
the former province were hastily repaired ; and while
the Due d'Alenc^n retook Mouzon, the Due de Ven-
dome effected an entrance into both Artois and Hain-
ault ; repaying with usury upon the enemy the enor-
mities of which they had been guilty on the French
territories.

Having made himself master of Bapaume and
Landrecies, to the latter of which the imperialists set
fire previous to their retreat, M. d'Alengon found his
task accomplished; while on the Spanish frontier,
Bonnivet, towards the close of September, possessed
himself of several fortresses in Biscay ; and, ultimately,
of Fontarabia.

During these proceedings the Emperor had joined
his retreating army near Valenciennes, having with
Vol. II.— 5

66 Reign of

him a strong body of troops ; and Francis no sooner
ascertained that he was present in person than he be-
came eager to attack him. In furtherance of this de-
sign he threw a bridge across the Scheldt, and the
Comte de Nassau who had advanced to reconnoitre,
was only enabled to escape with his followers through
the aid of a dense fog, which had rendered his approach
invisible. Bourbon, La Palice, and Tremouille, vehe-
mently urged the King to an immediate onslaught, and
had their advice been followed, the army of Charles
must have been destroyed ; but once more the evil star
of Francis prevailed, and he suffered himself to be in-
fluenced by the counsels of the Marechal de Chatillon,
who urged caution, and thus suffered the favourable
moment to escape.

Nor was this his only imprudence ; for still strongly
prejudiced by his mother against Bourbon, he con-
ferred the command of the vanguard, a distinction
claimed by the Duke as Constable of France, upon M.
d'Alengon. The effect of this affront upon a man of so
fiery a temperament as Bourbon, and who was more-
over jealous of his honour, was terrible. For a moment
he remained stupefied by surprise ; and then, recover-
ing his self-possession, he refused to believe that the
messenger had not mistaken the meaning of the King.
" I am Connetable of France," he said haughtily ; " and
by virtue of that dignity I have a right to lead her
army to the field. What will be the opinion of the
troops when they learn that my privilege has been in-
vaded, and my authority transferred to a general with-
out experience, and a soldier who has yet even a name
to win ? "

Francis I 67

" The whole army resents the insult which is thus
offered to you," said M. de Pomperant, his ancient
governor, " and are convinced to a man that it is not
the spontaneous act of the King himself."

" Who is then my enemy ? " he asked fiercely.

" One upon whom you cannot revenge yourself —
Madame d'Angouleme."

" Ah ! is it so ? " exclaimed the Duke. " But no —
the thing is impossible. She has always professed her-
self my friend; why then should she thus assail my
honour? Perhaps she covets the sword of connetable
for her minion Bonnivet. It would be well bestowed
upon an upstart whose ancestors were honoured when
they acted as equerries to mine ! Let the King beware,
however, how he seconds such a project."

" Duke," said M. de Pomperant firmly, " no subject
has a right to threaten his sovereign."

" I shall not revenge myself by words," retorted
Bourbon gloomily ; " let the nerveless husband of
Marguerite de France lead the troops of her brother to
battle. The future is still before me, and I shall know
how to use it."

Meanwhile, Charles V. had been compelled, as we
have shown, to retreat once more to Valenciennes ; the
hopes of the allied sovereigns had been falsified, and
they had gained nothing by the blood spilt and the
desolation created by their arms, save a few provinces
which they were not destined long to retain.

The flag of France once more waved above her for-
tresses; and Francis, having conducted his army to
Amiens, where he disbanded a great portion of the
troops, entered his capital at the head of the remaining
force amid a tumult of joyous welcome.

CHAPTER III.

Lautrec Returns to France — The Temporary Command of
the Army in the Milanese is Confided to Lescun — Its In-
subordination— Despair of the Milanese Citizens — Prosper
Colonna Strengthens the Imperialist Army — Lautrec De-
mands Supplies — Exhausted State of the Treasury — The
Enamelled Ornaments — Louise de Savoie Undertakes to
Raise the Supplies — The Finance-Minister — Lautrec Re-
turns to Milan — The Supplies are Withheld — The Pope De-
clares War against France — The Confederated Army
Threatens Parma — Imprudence of Lautrec — Disgust of His
Troops — The Swiss Desert — The French Retire to Milan
— Are Attacked by the Enemy, and Driven out — Lautrec
Retreats to Como, is Pursued by Pescara, and Takes up
His Winter Quarters at Cremona — Lescun Proceeds to
France with Despatches — Indignation of Francis — Anxiety
of Leo X. — His Exultation at the Capture of Milan — His
Death.

UNFORTUNATELY for Francis, matters wore a
less favourable aspect in Lombardy, where
Lautrec, who had returned to France in order to nego-
tiate an advantageous and wealthy marriage with the
daughter of the Comte Albret d'Orval, at the instiga-
tion of Madame de Chateaubriand, had confided to his
brother, M. de Lescun, the temporary command of the
army ; which, from its having been left unpaid through-
out the whole of the preceding year, had been com-
as

Francis I 69

pelled to exist by plunder and rapine, and had, accord-
ingly, created a revolt among the peasantry, who were
driven to exasperation, not only by the daily and
hourly exactions of the invading troops, but also from
the fact that a great portion of the native nobility had
emigrated in order to save the remnant of their prop-
erty, and to escape from the tyrannous persecution of
the French general; while Prosper Colonna, the general
appointed both by the Emperor and the Pope, had prof-
ited by the discontent in the French ranks, to invite
to his standard the formidable Spanish bands which
arrived from Naples, and to incorporate them with the
German men-at-arms sent to his assistance by Charles,
and the Grisons and Swiss in the pay of the Holy See.

Under these circumstances Lautrec had awaited
with impatience the return of Francis to his own do-
minions, in order to impress upon him the utter im-
practicability of pursuing the war, and defending the
Milanese with any chance of success, unless he could
carry back with him the sum of four hundred thousand
crowns, with which to settle all arrears among his own
troops, and to subsist a force of eight thousand Swiss,
whom his brother had hastily recruited.

Francis, angered as he was by this first and heavy
check upon his desire to plunge once more into pleas-
ure and dissipation, was, nevertheless, unable to deny
the justice of such a claim ; but although the war had
only recently commenced, the treasury was as usual
already exhausted ; the return of the King having been
the signal for a succession of courtly festivities, hunt-
ing parties, and lavish expenditure of every descrip-
tion. The favour of Madame de Chateaubriand had,

70 Reign of

moreover, become increased by their temporary sepa-
ration ; and it was the pleasure of Francis, who loved
magnificence in every shape, to overwhelm her with
the most precious jewels he could obtain, and of which
the costliness was enhanced by the marvellous fashion
of their setting, which had inspired such emulation
among the court jewellers, that every ornament became
a work of art, rendered even more gratifying to the
vanity of the favourite by the fact that the chasing,
enamelled with small gems, was formed on each into
some gallant device, or intertwining of the two letters
FF, which preceded alike the Christian name of the
King and her own ; and that these were invented at the
desire of the enamoured monarch, by the Duchesse
d'Alencon his sister; who, rejoiced that her husband
had not, during the late brief campaign, utterly sunk
into an insignificance which would have increased the
contempt that she already entertained for him, will-
ingly lent herself to the wishes of her brother by evinc-
ing both affection and deference towards his fair and
frail favourite.

Tastes of so ruinous a description as these had nec-
essarily diminished the resources of the royal coffer ;
and, indisposed as he was to forego them, Francis
nevertheless found himself equally powerless to refute
the arguments of Lautrec, and to supply his necessi-
ties.

Madame d'Angouleme, however, who was fertile in
expedients, did not hesitate to promise that she would
devise means to liberate him from this new difficulty ;
and he gladly left an affair in her hands which distracted
his mind from other and more pleasant pursuits.

Francis I 71

Thus authorized to act as she saw fit, the Duchess
at once summoned M. de Semblancjay, the finance-
minister, to her presence; and after assuring him in
her most insinuating manner that she felt convinced so
good and zealous a servant of her son would leave no
means untried to save him from the affront of being
once more driven from the Milanese, she urged him to
consider seriously if he could not suggest a method of
averting such a calamity. For a time the old states-
man only shook his head despondingly, and recapitu-
lated the numerous sources of expense by which he
was already surrounded; but Madame d'Angouleme
was not to be so silenced.

" We are not met, my good friend," she said with
a playful smile, " to enumerate our difficulties, but to
discover an expedient which may preserve us from
a great danger. We must have money ; and surely, in
so terrible an emergency as this, you cannot wish
your sovereign to suppose that such a realm as France
is utterly bankrupt ! We must have many resources."

" We had Madame."

" Look at the wars which were sustained by former
kings, when the nation was less flourishing than in the
present day ; and yet they were nobly and royally sus-
tained."

" But those kings to whom you allude, Madame, did
not resemble Francis I."

" No, sir," replied the Duchess with well-acted ex-
ultation, and wilfully overlooking the real drift of the
minister's remark. " The greater the dishonour to
France, therefore, should she suffer such a sovereign
to be crippled by want of funds."

72 Reign of

" The annual outlay of the court is enormous,
Madame," persisted M. de Semblangay, in his turn
evading a direct reply ; " more, far more in amount
than would sustain a war."

" You refuse, then, to serve me, sir ? You, on whose
loyalty and attachment I have hitherto relied with such
blind confidence."

" By no means, Madame ; but I dare not give a
pledge which I may find myself unable to redeem.
How am I to raise this money ? "

" I think that even I could suggest a method," said
the pertinacious Duchess, as she laid her small hand
lightly upon the arm of her companion, and looked up
into his face with an expression of almost affectionate
trustfulness.

" Madame," said the old man, moved by this con-
descension, " you know that I have already loyally
served three sovereigns. Judge, therefore, if I am
likely to fail in my duty to a fourth. Be gracious
enough to explain your meaning, and trust to my poor
efforts if they can avail."

" I do, M. de Semblangay, I do," replied the Duch-
ess energetically ; " we cannot at this moment look
for further help from our good city of Paris ? "

" The citizens already murmur, Madame."

" And yet the King is so indulgent," said Madame
d'Angouleme half reproachfully ; " when had the
bourgeoisie such easy access to the court? But it is
ever so ; the people love pleasure, but do not care to
pay its price. Let us not, however, waste time, which
is now precious, upon their idle discontent. We were

t spefcking of our alternative. Well, then, we will ask

• v. ,

•' ■:■ jj \ J

Francis I 73

nothing of Paris ; that is agreed. Nay more, we will
ask nothing near home. But what say you to the
southern provinces, M. de Semblan^ay? Surely we
have a right to look for succour from the south ? "

" The measure will be difficult."

" Perhaps so, but not impossible. I have put the
card into your hand. You have now only to play out
the game."

Although only half convinced, the minister was dis-
armed ; and the Duchess obtained his promise to levy
four hundred thousand crowns upon the provincial
chests of the south. This point gained, she hastened
to inform her son of her success ; who, in his turn,
confided it to Lautrec, the anxiety of the Marechal
having been greatly increased by a letter from his
brother, calling upon him to return with all speed to
Milan, and to resume a government which he was him-
self utterly unable longer to sustain.

The advice of Madame de Chateaubriand, however,
determined him against a haste which might tend to
frustrate all his plans, for she had no sooner explained
to him the extent of the jealousy which her influence
had excited in the heart of the Duchess-mother, than
he became convinced that Louise de Savoie, extreme
in all her feelings, would not hesitate to sacrifice, not
only the favourite herself, but all who were connected
with her, should she secure an opportunity of revenge ;
and accordingly he respectfully intimated to the King,
that, despite the urgency of the letter from Milan, he
could not leave the court until the money had been
confided to him.

But Madame d'Angouleme, who was aonmrra tjeV

©utario.

74 Reign of

rid of his importunity for reasons of her own, had re-
solved otherwise; and she represented to her son at
once the impossibility of procuring so large a sum
without some delay, and the danger which the obsti-
nate resistance of Lautrec might bring upon his gov-
ernment; offering to pledge both her own word and
that of the finance-minister that immediately the
money had reached Paris it should be despatched to
its destination without loss of time. With this arrange-
ment Lautrec was, therefore, compelled to appear sat-
isfied, supported as it was by the King's command that
he should risk no further delay ; and accordingly, hav-
ing taken a brief leave of the sovereign and his court,
he returned to the unfortunate duchy which had suf-
fered so bitterly from his arrogance and cruelty, with
the confident expectation of being ere long enabled to
silence the murmurings of his army, and to establish
his position.

As, however, after his arrival at Milan he received no
intelligence of the advent of the funds which were to
liberate him from his difficulties, he immediately levied
new contributions upon the most wealthy inhabitants
of the desolated duchy, and punished those who re-
sisted with the most uncompromising barbarity; the
scaffold was his argument, and the confiscation of pri-
vate property his vengeance. The dungeons had al-
ready been peopled by his equally inexorable brother;
and one of his first victims was the Signor Cristoforo
Pallavicini, whose only crime was the extent of his
property, and whom he condemned to lose his head;
a sentence which he carried into effect, although the
judge before whom his cause was tried, in order if pos-

Francis I 75

sible to give a semblance of justice to the proceeding,
refused to append his signature to so unholy a sacri-
fice. Pallavicini, the scion of a noble house, was des-
tined to expiate the sin of possessing an income of
twenty-five thousand crowns ; and he perished accord-
ingly, in order that the work of war might be carried
on, threatened as it was with immediate cessation from
the failure of the receipts anticipated by the French
marshal.

Day after day passed by, and yet the promised sup-
plies were withheld, but Lautrec had become desper-
ate ; he remembered the formidable enemy whom he
had left at court; an enemy, moreover, who could at
all hours command the ear and influence the resolu-
tions of the monarch. He felt that not only his own
interests, but those of his whole family were at stake ;
and he resolved to persevere. He was deficient neither
in talent nor decision, but he was occasionally wanting
in energy and presence of mind; and while he pos-
sessed the tact of enforcing obedience both from his
troops and the people whom he governed, he never-
theless occasionally failed to profit by the most brilliant
opportunities of signalizing himself ; an excess of pre-
caution which irritated those who served under his
command. Unpaid and dissatisfied, the Swiss mer-
cenaries whom his brother had recruited deserted by
whole companies at a time, and left a void in his ranks
which he was unable to supply ; while on the contrary,
those who had joined the banner of Leo X. remained
faithful to his cause, although repeatedly recalled by
the Helvetic diet.

The confederated party threatened to besiege Parma,

76 Reign of

and the situation of the marshal was critical. The
Pope had, on the 1st of August, declared war against
France, and his troops had even marched upon that
city ; but a quarrel for precedence which arose between
Prosper Colonna, and Ferdinand d'Avalos, Marquis
of Pescara (who, as imperial general, claimed to share
the command upon equal terms with the generalissimo
of the Pope,) occasioned so much confusion that
Lautrec found himself enabled, during the delay oc-
casioned by this misunderstanding, to adopt such ef-
ficient measures for the defence of the threatened for-
tress as sufficed to check the progress of the enemy ;
who after having possessed themselves of a portion
of the city at the commencement of September, were
compelled to relinquish their capture by the arrival of
the Marechal in person, accompanied by several of-
ficers of rank, and a reinforcement of troops, which
although not sufficiently powerful to encounter their
opponents at a disadvantage, still contributed to para-
lyse their movements. An entire month was then lost
by the opposing generals, each anticipating succours
which might enable him to overcome his antagonist.
These, however, failed equally on either side ; and at
length, although not without discussion and dissen-
sion among the confederated leaders, the siege was
raised.

Upon this occasion M. de Lautrec was guilty of one
of those acts of hyper-caution to which we have already
alluded. His troops, flushed by their advantage, would
gladly have pursued it ; but the Marechal, alarmed by
the partial revolt in the Milanese, and the aversion
with which he was personally regarded throughout the

Francis I 77

country, was unwilling to risk such an attempt as a
pursuit of the retiring and disheartened besiegers ; and
he consequently permitted Prosper Colonna to pass
the Po unimpeded, and to secure a position which en-
abled him to command the help of which he might by
an effort have been deprived, and thus to carry war
into the heart of Cremona. Nevertheless his first error
might not have proved fatal, had he not followed it up
by refusing, despite the remonstrances of those about
him, to attack the imperalist general, who occupied a
disadvantageous position at Rebecco, upon the banks
of the Aglio, and under the very guns of the Venetian
fortress of Pontevico, by which his own demonstration
would have been effectively seconded.

This double opportunity wilfully disregarded dis-
gusted his troops, who thenceforward lost faith in their
leader ; and the influence of the Cardinal of Sion oper-
ated so powerfully upon the Swiss mercenaries who
had hitherto remained faithful to his cause, that they
once more deserted in such numbers as to leave barely
a force of four thousand in the ranks of France. Those
who remained, moreover, murmured loudly, and de-
manded the recompense which was habitually con-
ceded to them after every engagement ; declaring that
if they had not been placed in contact with the enemy
under circumstances which rendered success inevi-
table, the fault lay with the Marechal, who had not af-
forded them an opportunity of conquest, and not with
themselves, who were willing and even eager to be led
to battle.

Lautrec was destined most bitterly to expiate his
fault. The supplies of money were still withheld : he

78 Reign of

was distrusted by his troops ; detested by the citizens ;
alike feared and execrated by the people : he had lost
the prestige which his former military renown had cast
about him ; and even those who shared his command
murmured loudly at an enforced inaction which perilled
their own honour. He had no longer, however, an
alternative ; his army was enfeebled by desertion, and
his position rendered precarious by private animosity.
The sun of his glory had set; and, no longer able to
threaten, he found himself compelled to act only on the
defensive, and even to retreat within the walls of Milan ;
a shelter which he had scarcely gained ere he was in his
turn assailed by the confederated generals, who made
so vigorous a night attack, that, aided by the citizens,
they took possession of the town ; and the discomfited
Marechal, who was awakened from his sleep by the
tumult, had scarcely time to retreat to Como, leaving
a portion of his troops to garrison the citadel.

Even there, however, he was not destined to remain
in safety, but being pursued by the Marquis de Pes-
cara, was compelled to enter the Venetian territory;
where, at the end of a few days, his mortification
reached its climax by the information which was con-
veyed to him, that not only had Como surrendered to
the imperialists, but that the city of Cremona was also
in their power, although the citadel still held out. En-
raged at the overthrow of all his brilliant anticipations,
Lautrec no sooner learnt these ill tidings than he made
a last and desperate effort, introduced some troops into
the town, and by a vigorous attack upon the walls suc-
ceeded in wresting it once more from the enemy, and in
establishing his winter quarters in the only portion of

Francis I 79

his late government which now acknowledged his
authority, or afforded a safe asylum for his person.

In this emergency the Marechal despatched his
brother Lescun to the French court with despatches,
which, being of so disastrous an import, could not have
arrived at a more unpropitious moment. A second
conference had taken place at Calais between the min-
isters of Charles and Francis, at which Wolsey presided
as the representative of his sovereign, with a state and
dignity even hyper-monarchical ; presents of the most
costly description had once more been lavished upon
the avaricious Cardinal, and no pains spared to concili-
ate his favour ; but the whole of the proceedings had
been carried on with a levity and carelessness which
convinced the French statesmen that no good result
could be anticipated upon their parts. The terms pro-
posed by Wolsey were such as their dignity did not
permit them to accept ; and Francis had now gained
a perfect conviction of the perfidy and double-dealing
of the English monarch and his minister.

He was consequently ill prepared to receive the tid-
ings from Milan with either patience or temper ; and
he accordingly overwhelmed the unfortunate messen-
ger with the most bitter reproaches; accusing his
brother of being deficient both in skill and courage;
of having so misconducted his government as to render
the name of his sovereign odious to the Milanese ; and
of ultimately completing by cowardice what he had
commenced by cruelty.

Lescun shrank abashed before a storm of accusation
which he was not permitted to palliate. He was aware
that one of its brightest jewels had been rent from the

80 Francis I

crown of Francis ; and with consummate judgment he
bowed before this tempest of royal wrath, and left it to
time and to Madame de Chateaubriand to justify both
himself and the absent Marechal.

While these disastrous events were taking place in
the Milanese, Leo X. was a prey to the most violent
anxiety. The reverses of Charles in the Low Countries
he had never anticipated; and his apprehension that
the arms of Francis, towards whom he had falsified all
his pledges, and whose friendship he could never again
hope to regain, would prove equally fortunate in Italy,
filled him with constant forebodings. His exultation
on learning the capture of Milan and the recovery of
Parma and Piacenza was consequently extravagant;
and he immediately declared his intention of com-
manding public thanksgivings to be offered up in
every church in Rome, in gratitude for such unhoped-
for success. The surprise had, however, affected his
health ; and having given the necessary directions he
retired to his chamber complaining of slight indispo-
sition. In the first instance this illness excited little
uneasiness, being attributed by some to excessive
emotion, and by others to the effects of cold or malaria ;
but it was, nevertheless, fated to be his last ; and on
Sunday the 1st of December, 1521, he expired so sud-
denly as to deprive him of the habitual ceremonies of the
Church, after the brief suffering of a week. Suspicions
of poison well or ill founded were rife in Rome ; and
it is asserted that not only the appearance of the body
after death tended to justify them, but that a post mor-
tem examination removed all doubt.

CHAPTER IV.

Discontent of the Due de Bourbon — A Summons to Am-
boise — A Mature Passion — Louise de Savoie Offers Her
Hand to Bourbon — He Rejects it — A Mutual Hatred —
Marguerite de Valois and Bonnivet — The Palace of a Par-
venu— Ostentation of the Due de Bourbon — The Lawsuit
— Accession of Adrian VI. — Francis Resolves to Attempt
the Recovery of the Milanese — He Levies a Tax on the
States of Languedoc — Charles V. Visits England — The Two
Sovereigns Agree to Invade France — Francis Sends Rein-
forcements to the Army of Lautrec — The French Take
Novarra — But are Repulsed before Pavia — Prosper Colonna
Establishes Himself at Bicocca — The Swiss under Lautrec
Mutiny, and Insist upon Meeting the Enemy — Lautrec
Marches on Bicocca — Disorderly Charge of the Swiss Mer-
cenaries— They Desert — Lautrec Retreats to Cremona,
and Proceeds to France — Lescun Assumes the Command,
is Attacked by Colonna, and Compelled to Capitulate —
The Venetian Senate Declines to Enter into a Treaty with
France — Lescun Evacuates Lombardy — Pescara Marches
against Genoa — The City is Taken by Treachery — Cruelty
of the Imperalist Generals — The French Lose Italy.

MEANWHILE the Due de Bourbon, who had be-
come a widower, and who could not forget the
affront to which he had been subjected by the King at
Valenciennes, instead of joining the court at Amboise
had established himself at his hotel in Paris, where he
lived in almost complete seclusion, receiving only a
Vol. II— 6 81

82 Reign of

few of his most intimate friends and followers; ap-
parently absorbed by some dark and engrossing
thought, and occupied in taking measures to protect
himself against the pretensions of Madame d'Angou-
leme ; who, on the pretext of being herself a Bourbon,
had instituted a claim to inherit from his late wife the
large property which he had received as her dowry.

Unaware of the secret motive by which Louise de
Savoie was thus urged to an attempt which would, if
successful, reduce him from one of the most wealthy
to one of the most needy nobles of the court, Bourbon
saw only in the obstinate rigour with which she prose-
cuted her suit the open demonstration of an implacable
enmity; and the iron which before had already en-
tered his heart, corroded there.

Thus it was with more surprise than alacrity that he
obeyed her summons to Amboise, although it reached
him in an autograph letter couched in the most courte-
ous terms ; nor was he less astonished when he found
himself welcomed with the same warmth and urbanity.

Madame d'Angouleme, although she had now at-
tained her forty-seventh year, was still a superb
woman ; and her mirror only reflected the flatteries of
the courtiers. Her gallantries were as unrestrained
and as numerous as ever ; and she did not care to re-
member that time was passing rapidly over her which
she could never redeem. We have already hinted at
her passion for the Connetable ; and that passion, al-
though it had been suffered to slumber for a time, had
never been suppressed. The very litigation into which
she had entered had been undertaken rather as a means
than as a result ; and satisfied that she had now awak-

Francis I 83

ened the fears of the Duke, she simply sought to com-
plete her work by awakening alike his ambition and
his softer feelings. Nothing had been omitted to
strengthen the spell : her attire, on his reception, was
both graceful and gorgeous ; her manner at once dig-
nified and gentle; her arguments at the same time
reproachful and reluctant ; but still Bourbon stood his
ground, and maintained his rights.

" You are obdurate, Duke," she said at length, with
a smile which was half smothered in a sigh. " You
do not, or you will not, understand me. At a former
period, and under the same circumstances, this very
question which we are now discussing was argued be-
tween yourself and Madame Anne de France ; and
finally arranged in a manner which we should perhaps,
in our turn, do well to imitate."

" Would that it were possible, Madame," replied
Bourbon gloomily; " but M. d'Alengon has been fated
to thwart me in my path through life. He has lately
robbed me of my honour — and — he married Madame
Marguerite."

" True," said the Duchess, biting her lip ; " the
King's sister is beyond your reach — but the King's
mother, M. de Bourbon, is a widow."

" Do I understand you rightly, Madame ? " asked the
Duke as a cloud gathered upon his brow. " Do not
jest with me. Recent events have rendered me a poor
courtier."

" I am sincere, Connetable," said Louise de Savoie
energetically. " I am ready to make our separate in-
terests one and indivisible."

" I thank you, Madame," was the cold rejoinder ;

84 Reign of

" you have conferred upon me an honour which I could
not anticipate, and by which I regret that I cannot
profit. I shall never contract a second marriage ; and
if this be the alternative of your forbearance I must
brave the worst. If our lawsuit is to succeed, so be it ;
I am prepared to uphold my claim."

" As you will, Monsieur de Bourbon," said the
Duchess rising haughtily from her seat ; " our inter-
view is at an end, and henceforth we are strangers to
each other."

The Connetable attempted no rejoinder ; but with a
ceremonious salutation he quitted the apartment, and
left the haughty Louise de Savoie to her reflections.

It was the first occasion upon which, during a long
career of vice, she had been made to feel that she was
scorned, and for a time she was half-suffocated by con-
flicting emotions. In so far as her corrupted heart
was capable of such a feeling she had loved Bourbon ;
she, the mother of a king, with one foot upon the steps
of the throne, — she had loved a subject, and had been
repulsed ! But Louise de Savoie could hate as vehe-
mently as she had loved.

Nor was Bourbon less decided in his aversion to
Madame d'Angouleme than he had by this interview
rendered her towards himself. It was to her inter-
ference that he attributed the marriage of her daughter
to the Due d'Alengon, at a period when he could no
longer entertain a doubt that had the Princess been
permitted to follow her own inclination, she would
have become his wife ; and, subsequently, his disgust
was deepened by her undisguised protection of Bonni-
vet, whose passion for Marguerite was well known;

• . - • " -

Francis I 85

and a disgust which was heightened by the fact that
the Admiral was accused during a visit made by the
court to his chateau in Poitou, of having adopted such
measures to possess himself, if not of the affections, at
least of the person of the Princess, as must have cost
him his head, favourite as he was, had not the principal
attendant of Madame d'Alengon ventured to remind
her imprudent mistress, (who in the first burst of her
indignation was about to communicate the whole trans-
action to the King,) that affairs of so delicate a nature
would not bear handling; and that there were evil
tongues about the court which would not hesitate to
imply that M. de Bonnivet must have received more
than ordinary encouragement before he could have
dared so much.

Nevertheless, the trustworthiness of the same lady
may well be suspected, as a whispered version of the
disgraceful tale soon spread among the courtiers, and
at length reached the ears of the Connetable, whose
indignation was unbounded; and who, with the nat-
ural haughtiness which was inherent in him, consid-
ered himself doubly aggrieved that such an outrage
should remain unpunished, when the aggressor was a
vassal of his own, who did homage to him for his
estates, and moreover a man of comparatively humble
birth. So great indeed was his contempt for the sud-
den rise of Bonnivet, whom he saw daily increasing in
arrogance, and affecting a magnificence with which
he could not himself compete, that as he was pacing
the marble hall of the favourite beside the King, who
was warmly expatiating upon the taste and splendour
of the whole edifice, he continued resolutely stte^flfc, >

v mi *

86 Reign of

until Francis, struck by the circumstance, turned
towards him suddenly with the exclamation, " You
amaze me, M. le Connetable ! You who delight in all
that is rich and great — you have not bestowed even
one word of praise upon this splendid pile. And yet,
you cannot deny that it is a noble residence. Be can-
did ; what think you of it ? "

" That the cage is too large for the bird," was the
dogged reply, as the Duke paused in front of a window
overlooking his own chateau of Chatellerault, which
appeared like a mere villa from the spot on which he
stood.

The King made no comment upon the abruptness of
his companion, nor did he affect to comprehend the
movement by which it was accompanied ; although
he was probably reminded at that instant of the feeling
which he had himself experienced, when in the year
15 17, he had stood sponsor to the infant son of the
Duke, who received him and his court at Moulins with
a magnificence that was almost regal. On that occa-
sion both the ceremony and the banquet by which it
was succeeded, were gorgeous in the extreme ; and
several days were consumed in tourneys, masquerades,
balls, and other pastimes ; during the whole of which
time the guests were waited on by five hundred gentle-
men of good family, attired in rich suits of velvet, and
each wearing about his neck a triple chain of gold ; a
decoration, which at that period was not only esteemed
as one of excessive magnificence, but also implied the
rank of the entertainer.

Although he saw fit to display so much splendour
at the christening of his son, M. de Bourbon had, from

Francis I 87

the hour of his birth, felt convinced that the infant
would not survive ; his mother, Suzanne de Bourbon,
being not only infirm in health, but also slightly de-
formed in person ; and his foreboding proved correct ;
for not only did the child die within a few months, but
was followed by the mother at the commencement of
the following year.

We have already stated, early in the work, that it
was to avoid a weary and uncertain lawsuit that the
Connetable had been induced to accept the hand of
his cousin, while his heart was wholly given to the
Princess Marguerite ; and, accordingly, he had by his
marriage with Suzanne, united all the possessions of
the several branches of the Bourbon family, which ren-
dered him at once the most wealthy and the most
powerful noble in France. The death of his wife was
succeeded in the following year by that of her mother,
Madame Anne de France ; and thus the Duke found
himself, as he believed, the sole legitimate claimant to
enormous possessions ; and became anxious for an
heir to his proud name and ample fortunes. The
Duchesse d'Alenc^n was lost to him ; and after some
lingering regrets, he had so far overcome his repug-
nance to a second marriage with another, as to ask
of Francis the hand of the Princess Renee, the sister
of Queen Claude.

The King, however, who saw in this proposal only
a new proof of the soaring ambition of his already too
powerful subject, and Madame d'Angouleme, for still
more personal reasons, were alike regardless both of
the claims of Bourbon, and of the entreaties of the
Princess, who, endowed with remarkable intellect and

88 Reign of

a sound judgment, was well able to appreciate the
noble qualities of her suitor.

The interference of the Duchess-mother, was not,
as we have seen, favourable to her own interests ; but
only served to add another to the long list of injuries
which the Duke attributed to her influence ; and thus,
when she so far forgot the dignity of her station and
the modesty of her sex, as to offer to him her own hand,
he revenged himself not only by rejecting the proposal,
but by detailing the whole scene to his chosen friends,
accompanying his recital by terms so offensive to the
character of the Duchess as to exasperate Francis;
who, it is even said, upon one occasion, raised his hand
to strike him.

Under these circumstances Louise de Savoie vowed
his ruin; and unfortunately her authority over the
Chancellor had long been so unbounded, that she urged
forward the threatened lawsuit with an acrimony and
perseverance which betrayed her perfect confidence in
its result.

While this important cause was pending, the College
of Cardinals was engrossed by the necessity of elect-
ing a new pope; and meanwhile the confederated
sovereigns, who had lost in Leo X. a powerful and
sure ally, suspended their proceedings, uncertain as to
what might be the views and principles of his suc-
cessor. Among the numerous competitors for that
vacant dignity it was, however, universally believed
that the choice of the conclave would fall either on the
Cardinal de' Medici, the nephew of the deceased pon-
tiff, or Wolsey, the English minister. The one relied
upon the efforts made by Leo X. to secure his election,

Francis I 89

and the other upon the often-repeated pledges of the
Emperor. Both were, nevertheless, fated to disap-
pointment ; and great was the astonishment, not only
of the two candidates themselves, when, despite all the
intrigues of their several parties, they found themselves
unsuccessful, but also that of all Christendom, when
it was ascertained that a man whose very name had
hitherto been almost unheard in Rome, and who had
apparently made no effort to attain the triple crown,
was called to the chair of St. Peter. The influence of
the Medici, and the crooked policy of Wolsey, who
had not scrupled to sacrifice the honour of his monarch
and the interests of his country to his own wild dream
of ambition, had succumbed beneath the superior craft
of the wily Charles; and on the 9th of January, 1522,
Adrian, Cardinal of Tortoso, the former preceptor of
the Emperor, and his present governor in Spain, was
elected by an overwhelming majority.

Francis did not for a moment deceive himself as to
the probable results of this new triumph on the part
of his enemy; for not only had Charles, by influenc-
ing the conclave to elect one of his own devoted ser-
vants to the Papal See, given him an immediate and
powerful interest in Italy, but it had also convinced all
who were attached to his cause that he was both able
and willing to promote their fortunes. This new mor-
tification rankled deeply with the French King; and
it served to arouse him for a time from his trance of
pleasure, and to decide him to make another and a
strenuous effort to reinstate himself in the Milanese.
The power of Charles had become formidable to all
Europe. The whole of Germany acknowledged him

90 Reign of

as its Emperor; every European sovereign was either
his ally or his dependent ; his sway was now colossal ;
and Francis saw himself called upon to contend single-
handed against a hydra-headed enemy. Of the grow-
ing hostility of England moreover he had long ceased
to entertain a doubt, and he accordingly anticipated
from day to day a declaration of war, which had been
hitherto delayed rather from policy than from inclina-
tion.

Nor were his home prospects more cheering. His
frontiers were for the most part unfortified, and his
treasury empty; his subjects already overwhelmed
with taxation, and the citizens of Paris full of discon-
tent. Even the very courtiers about him, although they
were not insensible to pleasure, were still greedy of
glory ; and many a noble brow darkened as the shadow
of coming events loomed over their country. In this
emergency, his first measures were to levy a tax of
twenty-five thousand livres on the states of Langue-
doc, for the purpose of repairing the fortifications of
Narbonne and the fortresses of the eastern Pyrenees ;
to renew the sale of judicial offices ; and finally, to in-
stitute perpetual rents on the H6tel-de-Ville. These
arrangements were not made, however, without con-
siderable opposition. Strong in his sense of the royal
prerogative, Francis disdained to explain to his sub-
jects in the more distant provinces the fearful emer-
gency in which he was involved ; and thus, what
through personal alarm or national pride might have
been conceded to him without serious difficulty, was
withheld from a resolution to resist the mere dictates
of an arbitrary will.

Francis I 91

While the French King was engaged in these finan-
cial operations, the Emperor paid a second visit to
England, and remained the guest of Henry VIII. dur-
ing six weeks ; where he employed his time so success-
fully as to induce his royal host to ratify in person the
betrothal secretly concluded at Bruges by the Cardi-
nal-legate between himself and the Princess Mary, who
was to receive a dowry of four hundred thousand
crowns ; and to obtain his pledge that he would enter
France simultaneously with himself before the end of
May, 1524, accompanied by an army of forty thousand
infantry, and ten thousand horse; each declaring the
several provinces over which he affected to have a
claim, and receiving the promise of the other that he
should be permitted to retain them in the event of their
subjugation.

The treasury of France was no sooner replenished
than Francis lost no time in providing for the restora-
tion of the Milanese ; and despatched for that purpose
a supply of money to the Marechal de Lautrec by the
Bastard of Savoie, M. de Chabannes, and the Comte
de Montmorenci, to whom he moreover gave authority
to levy a force of sixteen thousand Swiss. The effect
of this reinforcement was electrical ; the flagging spirit
of the French troops revived ; and Lautrec, eager to
revenge his late defeat, displayed an energy which, had
it been more seasonably developed, might have saved
the duchy. Several of the minor towns were retaken ;
and, flushed with hope, the Marechal pushed forward
to Milan, where he was gallantly opposed by the garri-
son, but nevertheless commenced an attack upon the
city, to whose capture however, the hatred with which

92 Reign of

he had inspired the inhabitants proved an equally for-
midable obstacle.

Weary of his iron rule, they defended themselves
with an energy that baffled all his efforts; and at
length, convinced that his attempt to reduce Milan
was hopeless, he was reluctantly compelled to aban-
don it, and to march upon Novarra, which having
yielded, enabled him to form a junction with some
troops which his brother had brought to his assistance,
and among whom was Pietro da Navarro — who had
for a time abandoned the cause of France, but whose
sword was once more unsheathed in her defence — and
the redoubtable Bayard. He then made an attack
upon Pavia; but Prosper Colonna had not only suc-
ceeded in reaching that city before him, but had also
enabled Francisco Sforza to join him with his troops ;
an event which prevented its capture.

Having relieved Pavia, Colonna took up his quarters
at Bicocca, a castle seated in an extensive park, and
surrounded by deep ditches, about a league from
Milan, where he hastily threw up outworks, and ren-
dered the place so strong as to deter Lautrec from
any attempt to dislodge him. The situation of the
Marechal was embarrassing ; for not only did Colonna
hold him at bay in this stronghold, but Anchiso Vis-
conti with a body of Milanese troops blockaded Arona,
where a portion of the money which had arrived for
the pay of the army was thus rendered unattainable.
The French cavalry were already eighteen months in
arrear, but they nevertheless bore their privations with
patience, although they were both badly equipped and
still worse armed ; while the Venetians, who in accord-

Francis I 93

ance with the recent treaty had joined the French
forces for the defence of the Milanese, were supine and
cowardly, and resolutely refused either to advance far
from their own frontiers, or to risk their safety in any
engagement by which they could not individually
profit. Finally the Swiss, wearied by a war which af-
forded them no opportunity of pillage, and of a general
who preferred strategy to action, murmured loudly
when they found that the attack upon Bicocca was re-
linquished ; and had no sooner ascertained that the
long-expected supplies had reached Arona, than they
collected tumultuously about the tent of the Marechal,
declaring that he should immediately satisfy their de-
mands or give battle to Colonna.

In vain did the French general explain to them the
impossibility of procuring the money during the
blockade of the town where it was deposited, and the
impregnable nature of the papal general's position ;
they were deaf to his reasonings, and persisted that
they would be paid, brought hand to hand with the
enemy, or disband themselves.

The alternative was difficult, as the departure of the
mercenaries would have been equivalent to a defeat,
and Lautrec was painfully convinced that it would be
immediately followed by that of the Venetians, already
weary of the service in which they were engaged. In
this emergency he consulted the feelings of his troops,
who were all eager for action, and although against
his own judgment and that of M. de Savoie and the
Marquis de la Palice, he ultimately left Monza on the
29th of April, (1523,) at daybreak, having committed
the charge of the vanguard to Montmorenci, that of

94 Reign of

the rear to the Due d'Urbino, and reserved to himself
the command of the main body. He had consented
that the Swiss should, as they had demanded, attack
the enemy in front, while his brother, the Marechal
de Foix, should march to the left upon the bridge, and
effect an entrance into the enclosure ; a third division,
whom he caused to substitute the red cross for the
national one of white, in the hope that they might be
mistaken by Colonna for a body of his own troops,
were ordered to the right ; while the Black Bands and
the Venetians were to support the Swiss and to act as
a reserve.

In order to secure the success of this combined at-
tack, however, it was necessary that the three divisions
should arrive on the ground simultaneously ; and that
the Swiss who were in advance should move slowly, in
order to give time to the other bodies to come up with
them ; a circumstance which was strenuously explained
by the anxious general, who was aware that the fort-
unes of the day hinged mainly upon this manoeuvre.
His eloquence, however, availed nothing; arrogant
and headstrong, the mercenaries affected to despise
the enemy against whom they were about to contend,
and complained that too much time had already been
lost in futile calculations; and accordingly, Montmo-
renci had no sooner halted in a defile under cover of
the entrenchments, for the purpose of awaiting the
arrival of the artillery, than they openly opposed his
authority ; and asserting that they did not require the
assistance of the French guns, rushed tumultuously
forward, exposing themselves to the fire of the enemy
which swept them off in files as they advanced, with-

Francis I 95

out themselves losing a single man, protected as they
were by entrenchments so loftily constructed that the
Swiss could scarcely attain the summit with their pikes.

It was a butchery rather than a conflict. Three
thousand of them fell before they would retreat, and
among others their celebrated leader Albert de la
Pierre, while Montmorenci was so desperately
wounded that he was carried from the field. At the
precise moment when they at length gave way, Lau-
trec had reached the right wing of Colonna's army;
but the papal general fearing some stratagem on the
part of his adversary, had negatived the ruse of the
Marechal by causing his men to add a green bough
to the red cross on their uniform, and the imperialist
troops consequently fell upon the French, whom they
at once recognised, without fear of mistake. As the
engagement commenced M. de Lescun passed the
bridge, but it was already too late. Colonna, relieved
from the attack of the Swiss, who were totally routed,
had full leisure to turn his whole strength against the
two marshals, and to compel their retreat.

The position attained by the Marechal de Foix, who
had succeeded in forcing an entrance to the enemy's
entrenchments, had inspired him for a time with the
hope that he might be enabled to hold his ground, and
to redeem the imprudence of the vanguard; but un-
fortunately for the French cause, he had also under
his command a number of Swiss troops, who, instead
of supporting the gallant charge made by his cavalry,
resolutely refused to act ; and thus his whole brigade
was cut to pieces, while he himself had a narrow escape,
his horse having been killed under him, and a second

96 Reign of

with difficulty secured to carry him from the field.
This circumstance at once became evident to Colonna,
who attempted to profit by it on the instant, and for
that purpose ordered a sally to be made, by which the
supine mercenaries might be taken in flank; but the
manoeuvre, rapidly as it was executed, was rendered
abortive by M. de Pontdormy,* who, suspecting the
object of their movement, attacked the advancing party
with his cavalry so resolutely, that before they could
accomplish their retreat, the greater portion of them
were destroyed. Baffled, but not beaten, the French
forces were still formidable ; and Lautrec, whose en-
ergy continued unabated, determined to renew the
attack on the following day; but aware of the great
importance of retaining the Swiss troops, he exerted
all his eloquence to induce them to remain within sight
of Bicocca, and even pledged himself that his own men
should sustain the brunt of the battle, if they would
promise to support them.

Conscious, however, that they had by their own im-
prudence trammelled his proceedings, they maintained
a sullen silence; refused to communicate their inten-
tions ; and assumed the position of persons who con-
sidered themselves aggrieved. Had they possessed
sufficient temper to be influenced by the arguments of
the Marechal, and remained true to their engagements,
all might still have been retrieved, and their own sul-
lied glory restored; but the representations of the

* Antoine de Crequi was the son of Jean de Crequi, the sixth of the
name, Seigneur de Crequi and Canaples. The original name of the
family was Pont-de-Remy, which had ultimately been corrupted into
Pontdormy. M. de Pontdormy was a brave general, and highly esteemed,
not only by his sovereign, but by all the army, who placed the greatest
faith in his intrepidity and judgment.

Francis I 97

Cardinal of Sion, who from the opposite camp had
never ceased his efforts to estrange them from the
cause of France, combined with their mortification,
rendered them invulnerable to persuasion ; and on the
morrow they not only commenced their retreat, but
even effected it in so tumultuous and disorderly a man-
ner, that Lautrec saw himself compelled to detach the
whole of his cavalry to cover their rear, in order to
preserve them from total annihilation ; and thus shel-
tered, they made their way to Bergama, and thence
returned to their mountains.

Nor was this the only serious defalcation with which
the French general had to contend ; for his prescience
as regarded the Venetians had not deceived him.
Their inertness and disaffection became so evident after
the departure of the mercenaries, that he found him-
self reduced to the necessity of sending M. de Mont-
morenci at once to Venice, in order to effect a better
understanding with the only Italian state which still
remained friendly to France, and to abandon all further
idea of attacking Colonna in his stronghold. Once
more, therefore, he strengthened the few fortresses
which still maintained their allegiance to Francis ; and
leaving the command of his exhausted and harassed
army to his brother, the Marechal de Foix, he started
for Paris, to explain in person to the King the causes
which had conduced to his defeat, and to secure more
efficient aid both in money and troops.

Lautrec had not only lost a great number of men,

but many of his bravest officers had fallen ; while his

whole remaining force was dispirited, and ill able to

contend against the formidable enemy to which it was

Vol. II.— 7

98 Reign, of

opposed. Colonna profited by his knowledge of these
circumstances, and abandoning his position at Bicocca,
he at once marched upon Cremona, which he invested,
aware that the Marechal de Foix had retired there
with the remnant of his army, accompanied by Gio-
vanni de' Medici at the head of about sixteen hundred
Italians, to whom one of the gates of the city was con-
fided. This reinforcement had inspired the French
general with new courage, and he made immediate
preparations for defence, trusting still to redeem the
disasters of the late engagement; but once more he
was destined to prove the danger and inconvenience
attendant upon the command of any army without
either political or national sympathies. Could he have
secured in lieu of this Florentine force an equal num-
ber of his own countrymen, there is no doubt that he
might have held the important place which he then
occupied ; but, with true Italian guile, de' Medici no
sooner saw Colonna before the walls than he made an
application for the immediate payment of the arrears
due to his followers, and even threatened to open the
gate of which he had possession, to the imperialist
general, if his claim were not cancelled upon the in-
stant. Impoverished as he was, it was with extreme
difficulty that M. de Lescun raised the sum demanded,
and silenced the clamours of his soi-disant allies, with
the help of his principal officers ; but the ill-timed perti-
nacity of the Florentine at once convinced him that he
must place no reliance upon the sincerity of his assist-
ance ; and under this impression he saw no other
alternative than that of a capitulation with the enemy,
by which he bound himself to deliver up the city at

Francis I 99

the expiration of three months, unless troops should
in the interval arrive from France to reinforce him.
Colonna accepted the offered terms, which, by reliev-
ing him from the necessity of employing his troops
before Cremona, afforded him an opportunity of be-
sieging Genoa.

The Venetian Senate, moreover, no sooner ascer-
tained this proof of weakness on the part of the French
general, than, although upon the point of acceding to
the treaty proposed by Montmorenci, they wavered,
hesitated, and finally declined to sign it, under the
conviction that no army could reach Italy in time to
release the French marshal from his engagements ;
and thus, reduced to rely upon their own attenuated
strength, and unable to make head against an over-
powering enemy, the army of Francis successively lost
Lodi and Pizzighettona, the first by siege, and the
latter by a capitulation ; and family, Lescun saw him-
self, on the 2 1 st of May, reduced to sign an agreement,
by which he was bound to evacuate the whole of Lom-
bardy save the three fortresses of Cremona, Novara,
and Milan, if he did not receive succour within forty
days ; Andreo Gritti, the general of the Venetians, hav-
ing meanwhile retired with all his troops to the frontier
of his own country, and making no effort beyond that
of defending the post of which he had possessed
himself.

The whole of Italy was once more lost to France
with the exception of the solitary province of Genoa,
which had not been included in the capitulation of the
Marechal de Foix, and even that was soon to follow,
the Marquis de Pescara having marched against it at

ico Reign of

the head of all the Spanish foot, and a division of the
Italian army, whose natural rapacity was heightened
by his promise that the capture of the city would en-
able him to satisfy all their demands, and to enrich
them with the spoils of the enemy against whom they
were leagued. An immediate capture of the place
was, however, prevented by the arrival of Pietro da
Navarro with a couple of galleys and two hundred
French infantry, although his influence was insufficient
to prevent a parley between Pescara and the Genoese
burgesses, who sent a deputation to the Spanish
general to endeavour to effect favourable terms for
themselves. During this conference it was clearly
understood on both sides that hostilities were to be
suspended; and the French soldiers gladly took ad-
vantage of the interval to relax for a time in that rigour
of discipline which they had hitherto maintained.
Fearless of treachery, the guard of the city was dimin-
ished, and many of the sentinels were withdrawn from
their posts; a fearful and mistaken trust, which was
fatally expiated ; for some of Pescara's skirmishers
having detected a breach in the walls, communicated
the discovery which they had been heedlessly permitted
to make, and profiting by this circumstance, effected
an entrance into the city, whither they were imme-
diately followed by a considerable force, and en-
countered only by Pietro da Navarro and his little
band of followers, who were at once overpowered ;
when, despite the assistance rendered by the citizens,
who treacherously welcomed the besiegers, Genoa the
superb was pillaged with a cold-blooded ferocity dis-
graceful to its captors.

Francis I 101

This event sealed the ruin of the French cause. The
stipulated period for the release of Cremona had ex-
pired; and although reinforcements were sent from
France headed by the Due de Longueville, they only
arrived in time to learn that no further hope existed
of any successful attempt, and consequently returned
to Picardy, where their services might still prove avail-
able, accompanied by the cavalry of the unfortunate
Lescun.

CHAPTER V.

Louise de Savoie Urges on Her Lawsuit against Bourbon —
The Parliament Refuses to Ratify the Decision of the
Judges — The Estates of Bourbon are Placed under Seques-
tration— Unguarded Violence of the Duke — The Emperor
Despatches M. de Beaurain to Bourbon — The Price of
Rebellion — Bourbon Negotiates with Wolsey — A Double
Treason — Improvidence of Francis — Excesses of the French
Soldiery — The Plague in Paris — Mob Riots — Ineffective
Precautions — Discontent of Adrian VI. — He Endeavours
to Alienate the Venetian States from France — The Vene-
tians Enter into the European League — Lautrec Arrives at
Court — Irritation of Francis — The Marechal is Refused an
Audience — Waning Influence of Madame de Chateaubriand
— Bourbon Espouses the Cause of Lautrec — A Stormy In-
terview— Lautrec Pleads His Cause Boldly — The Finance-
Minister and the Regent — Louise de Savoie Accused of
Appropriating the Public Moneys — Truth and Treachery
— Reconciliation of the King and Lautrec — The Two Fac-
tions— Queen Claude Urges the Marriage of the Princess
Renee and Bourbon — The Princess is Dissuaded by the Re-
gent— The French Succour Fontarabia — Death of the
Marquis de Chatillon — Charles V. Lands at Dover and
Meets Henry VIII. — Unjust Demands of the English King
— Dignified Reply of Francis — Arrogant Declaration of
Bonnivet — Charles Confers the Protectorate of the Low
Countries upon Henry VIII. — War Declared against France
by England — The Earl of Surrey and the Count de Buren
Attack the French Frontiers — The Due de Vendome pro-
ceeds to the Seat of War — Francis Coins the Silver Screen

Francis I 103

of St. Martin's Tomb to Pay His Troops — Imprudent Fu-
tility of Francis — The Earl of Surrey Returns to England
— Francis Despatches an Army to Invest Milan — Francis
is Apprised of the Intended Rebellion of Bourbon — The
Queen's Dinner — Bourbon Leaves the Court — The Count
de St. Vallier — Pertinacity of Bourbon — He Retires to
Moulins.

DESPITE these reverses, involving as they did the
honour of the French crown, and in themselves
so disastrous as to have claimed the whole attention of
Louise de Savoie, she had continued, with the assist-
ance of Duprat, to pursue her suit against the Due de
Bourbon with an acrimony which betrayed the whole
extent of the hatred that she bore him. The posses-
sions which had formed the dowry of his wife, and had
been secured to her by the assent of her mother,
Madame Anne de France, proceeded, as we have else-
where stated, from a twofold source. A portion of
them descended in the Bourbon family by inheritance ;
and Madame d'Angouleme, who was the niece of the
two last dukes of the elder branch, became their legiti-
mate heiress in the event of her being enabled to set
aside the donation made by the Duchesse Suzanne to
her husband ; while the remainder were appanages
which the crown was competent to reclaim at pleasure,
and to reincorporate in the royal domains.

It was upon the hereditary inheritance that Louise
de Savoie founded her pretensions, assuming that
Madame Suzanne de Bourbon had acted illegally in
disposing of the family property during her own life-
time and without her sanction; while the Advocate-
General, anxious still further to second her views, to

104 Reign of

which he was no stranger, demanded that all the titles
by which M. de Bourbon held his estates should be
communicated to him in order that he might be en-
abled to form his opinion upon the legitimacy of his
several claims ; declaring at the same time that he was
strongly inclined to believe that the whole inheritance
belonged by right of law to the monarch.

This judgment he speedily followed up by asserting
that no valid claim could be advanced to such portions
of the domains of the Duke as had been secured to the
family of Bourbon during the reigns of Charles VII.
and Louis XI., such concessions having been sanc-
tioned rather by favour than by justice; while those
which had been granted by Louis XII. were still more
questionable from the fact of their having encroached
upon the rights of the crown. Thus, and upon these
arguments, he reclaimed the county of La Marche,
and the confiscated lordships of the Due de Nemours,
settled upon his daughter by Louis XI. ; he had no
sooner procured a decree of the parliament declaring
the donation of non-avail, and restoring these posses-
sions to the King, than he proceeded upon other
grounds to attack the right of M. de Bourbon to the
duchies of Auvergne and Bourbonnais, and the county
of Clermont. Here, however, the parliament refused
to ratify his decision ; alleging that in all transfers of
territory made among different members of the reign-
ing family, the law had always been subordinate to the
will of the monarch, and that the precedent of setting
aside the acts of the four preceding sovereigns would
have a tendency so dangerous, that they could not im-
mediately decide a point of such importance. Enough

Francis I 105

had, however, been done to convince M. de Bourbon
that the Duchesse d'Angouleme was determined to ef-
fect his ruin; a conviction in which he was strength-
ened by the fact, that all his public revenues were
stopped upon the pretence of necessities of state ; while
the duchies and counties which were still objects of liti-
gation, were placed under sequestration until the final
sentence should be pronounced.

The indignation of the Connetable accordingly ex-
ceeded all bounds ; nor did he make an effort to con-
ceal the nature of his feelings, either towards Louise
de Savoie herself, or against the King, who was weak
enough to submit to the arbitrary will of a woman
without dignity or character. This unguarded ve-
hemence of language was quickly conveyed to the ears
of Madame d'Angouleme, who revenged herself by
urging on the reluctant parliament to a decision ; and
by overlooking, either wilfully or blindly, the possible
consequences of an animosity which she had carried
to persecution.

So important a struggle became, as a natural conse-
quence, known and canvassed at every European
court; and the Emperor no sooner ascertained the
pitch of reckless exasperation at which Bourbon had
arrived, than he despatched to France the Comte de
Beaurain, his lieutenant-general in the Low Countries,
and a cousin of M. de Chievres, his late minister, who
arrived in the spring of 1523 at Moulins, where the
Duke was then residing, and exhibiting an ostentatious
display of magnificence better calculated to deepen the
dislike of Francis and his mother than to propitiate
their favour. The imperial envoy found him in pre-

106 Reign of

cisely the temper which Charles had anticipated. He
had become careless to the interests of France; re-
gardless of her claims upon him as a citizen ; disgusted
alike with her laws, her policy, and her honours;
chafed at the insult which had been put upon him at
the head of his troops, and irritated by the injustice
which was stripping him of his civil privileges. Adrien
de Croi, Sieur de Beaurain, was no stranger to Bour-
bon, having been his prisoner two years previously at
Hesdin, where, during the brief captivity of the former,
a mutual regard had been engendered ; and thus the
Duke did not scruple to lay before him the extent of
his grievances, or to admit that he should not hesitate
to adopt any measure by which he might revenge him-
self upon his persecutors.

This opportunity now presented itself ; and with all
the bitterness of desperation, Bourbon listened to the
terms proposed by the Emperor, who offered, in the
event of his abandoning the cause of Francis for his
own, to assist him in the recovery of the estates which
had been wrested from him, and, moreover, to give
him the hand of his sister Eleanora, the widowed
Queen of Portugal, with the province of Beaujolois as
her dower. The proposals were however insufficient
to satisfy the vengeance of the Connetable; who de-
clared that, in return for his allegiance to Charles, he
demanded, not only what the Emperor had shown him-
self ready to concede, but also that Henry VIII. should
be admitted to a league whereby France should be
dismembered, Languedoc, Burgundy, Champagne,
and Picardy, be relinquished to Charles himself;
Provence and Dauphiny annexed to his own appanage

Francis I 107

of the Bourbonnais and Auvergne, and erected into a
kingdom ; and the remainder of France delivered over
to Henry.

The terms of the Duke, monstrous as they were,
were accepted by M. de Beaurain without hesitation ;
and it was then concluded that Bourbon, in order to
facilitate the success of the project, should endeavour
to take possession of the King's person, on his passage
through some of the provinces ; or, in the event of his
failing to accomplish this object, should, so soon as
Francis had crossed the Alps to rejoin the army in
Italy, raise a force of a thousand nobles with their fol-
lowers, and six thousand infantry, and uniting his
troops with twelve thousand lansquenets whom the
Emperor would march through Franche-Comte, im-
pede the French King on his return.

From Moulins M. de Beaurain at once proceeded to
England to negotiate for his imperial master ; and he
was immediately followed by the Seigneur de Chateau-
fort, the Chamberlain of the Connetable, charged with
a letter from the Duke to Wolsey, and authorized to
proffer upon his part such terms to Henry as were
calculated to remove every objection which he might
otherwise have felt to embark in so extreme and
treacherous an undertaking. The result was such as
Bourbon had anticipated. The English monarch,
dazzled by the prospect of a second throne, by an act
dated May the 17th, 1523, gave full powers to two of
his counsellors to treat with the Connetable, under the
title of " Most Serene Prince ; " and also authorized
his ambassadors in Spain to negotiate with him, upon
his swearing homage and fealty to himself as King of

108 Reign of

France ; and a short time subsequently he despatched
a disguised envoy to Bourgen-Bresse, (where the Con-
netable was residing for a time, in order to be in the
more immediate neighbourhood of his new allies,) to
receive his pledge that he would fulfil the conditions
of the compact which he had made, without reserva-
tion. This pledge was instantly given by the Duke,
and preparations were made without further delay by
Henry and his minister for the advance of an English
army upon Normandy.

While these secret negotiations were thus progress-
ing, Francis, notwithstanding his recent reverses in
Italy, the menacing position of the enemy, the help-
lessness of his frontiers, and the impoverished state of
his army, which was still suffering from need of the
long-withheld supplies, was wasting alike both time
and money in the most reckless extravagance. The
expenses of his court amounted to the enormous sum
of a hundred and fifty thousand livres monthly. .Balls,
banquets, tilting matches, and hunting parties, ab-
sorbed all his attention ; and meanwhile the kingdom
was thrown into a state of fearful disorder by the
troops, who, having no other means of sustaining life,
were existing upon the pillage of the inhabitants; at
first confining their outrages to the scattered villages,
and contenting themselves with rapine ; but ultimately
even entering the towns, and committing enormities
of every description. Nor was the capital exempt
from its own horrors, the plague having declared itself
in a form so fearful that hundreds fell victims to its
ravages; and continued, month after month, with a
virulence which palsied the energies of the faculty.

Francis I 109

Street tumults were of continual occurrence ; and, as
upon all similar occasions, the people murmured
loudly, attributing their sufferings to human agency ;
while assassinations became so frequent, that, in order
to appease the popular fury, Francis found himself
compelled, early in the spring, to take up his abode
in the palace of the Tournelles, and endeavour to calm
the excited spirit of the mob by showing himself
among them. The effort was, however, unavailing;
and as he soon wearied of a position as useless as it was
dangerous, he threatened to withdraw to Amboise,
when the seneschal of the palace caused two gibbets
to be erected at the entrance, in order to inspire more
respect for the King's person ; but even this extreme
demonstration failed in its effect, for they were re-
moved during the night by a body of men armed to
the teeth ; and Francis, indignant at the insult which
had been offered to him in his own capital, after hav-
ing held a bed of justice on the 30th of June, and de-
clared his firm determination to punish the authors of
these outrages, left the capital ; and, as we have already
stated, was soon immersed once more in pleasure and
dissipation.

By a fortunate combination of circumstances, the
only frontiers on the north of France which it was
necessary to defend at this juncture were those of
Champagne and Picardy; but even near these, ex-
posed as they were to the double attack of the English
and the Flemish, Francis neglected to assemble an
army; contenting himself by ordering the Due de
Vendome, who was governor of the latter province, to
distribute his forces between the several fortresses, and

no Reign of

instructing M. de la Tremouille, who had charge of
the former with five hundred lances, to raise ten thou-
sand infantry, which he effected ; but as he obtained
them from the plough, and other agricultural pursuits,
they were ill-fitted to encounter and contend success-
fully with well-disciplined and experienced troops.

Adrian VI. had laboured, from the moment at which
he ascended the papal throne, to re-establish the peace
of Europe, and had even avoided an interview with the
Emperor ; but he had nevertheless felt aggrieved that
the French King should persevere in his pretensions,
and consequently make a chilling reply to his advances.
His natural prejudices were in favour of Charles ; and
although he had succeeded in reconciling the Dukes of
Urbino and Ferrara with the Holy See, he had never-
theless detached them from the interests of France;
and the French troops had no sooner evacuated Italy
than he addressed to the Venetian Senate a letter in
which he urged them to renounce an alliance which
could only tend to involve the papal dominions in re-
newed bloodshed, by encouraging the French in a
fresh attempt to effect the conquest of Lombardy.

The appeal was not without its effect; Venice,
separated as she was from France, and menaced by all
Europe, was in no position to maintain so unequal and
precarious a warfare ; but, still the Senate were anxious
to gain time. They were aware that they had already
lost much, and gained nothing by their French alli-
ance; while Francis had recently despatched envoys
to inform them that in the spring of 1523 he should
enter Lombardy with a powerful army ; and they were
fearful of committing themselves. Their indecision

Francis I m

was, however, terminated by a letter from their
ambassador at Paris, who assured them that the
French King was no longer an enemy to be feared, for
that he had so entirely abandoned himself to sensuality
and dissipation, that he expended on his own selfish
gratification the principal portion of the national rev-
enues ; while his whole thoughts were so absorbed by
these pursuits that he seldom, and even then at the
most inopportune moments, ever suffered a serious
reflection or representation to divert him from his mis-
tresses or his amusements ; and that in order to organ-
ize an army he must either sell or mortgage the royal
domains, or exhaust the kingdom by the most fearful
exactions ; that all France accused his supineness for
the misfortunes which had recently supervened; and
that, moreover, there were reasons for suspecting that
a powerful prince of his family was about to abandon
his allegiance.

This communication at once determined the Vene-
tian senators. Aware that they could place implicit
trust in the report of their representative, they an-
nounced to the Pope their readiness to abandon the
cause of a monarch who was thus careless of his own
interests ; and on the 3d of August, a general Euro-
pean league was signed against France, whereby the
several sovereigns bound themselves to mutual sup-
port in their respective aggressions of reclaimers.

A new cause of anxiety, moreover, presented itself
at this time, in the jeopardy of the island of Rhodes,
where the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem had es-
tablished themselves for the avowed purpose of carry-
ing on a warfare against the Turks ; in which they had

1 1 2 Reign of

for some time been eminently successful under the
brave and skilful guidance of their Grand Master Vil-
liers de l'lsle-Adam. Soliman, who had been elected
to the sovereignty of Turkey during the preceding
year, and who had already evinced his belligerent pro-
pensities by the invasion of the Hungarian frontiers,
and the capture of Belgrade, had recently turned his
attention towards Rhodes ; and the Grand Master, on
becoming apprised of his hostile intentions, had hast-
ened to fortify his stronghold, and had collected about
him a number of his bravest knights in order to repel
the attack. The Turkish force proved, however, to
be overwhelming ; no less than three hundred vessels,
with two hundred thousand troops, being despatched
against the Christians, which were shortly followed by
the Sultan himself, to whom the capture of this strong-
hold was important alike as a matter of safety and of
religion.

The defence of the knights was worthy of their repu-
tation ; and for six entire months they held out against
the gigantic enemy to whom they were opposed, in
the full reliance that the princes of Christendom would
not allow the declared champions of their holy faith to
be defeated from lack of help. But in this trust they
were unfortunately deceived ; the jealous animosity
which existed between the Emperor and the French
King rendering them severally averse to act in concert
even in a cause which involved one of their dearest
interests. In vain did the Pope conjure them to lay
aside their personal differences for the time, and to
unite, in protecting the safety of the Church. They
jremaine3t- 4eaf to his appeal ; and, ultimately, the total

ah

Francis I 113

exhaustion both of provisions and ammunition com-
pelled the gallant Grand Master to capitulate, and to
retire with the slender remnant of his noble followers
from the island which they had so bravely defended,
(and whose ruined citadel and crumbling walls attested
the perseverance with which they had been defended,)
to Viterbo, where the Pope offered them an asylum,
until they could again establish themselves in a manner
more befitting the dignity of their order; and where
they ultimately remained, until, some years subse-
quently, Charles V., who was anxious to secure their
services, made them a grant of the island of Malta.

Thus were things situated when the Marechal de
Lautrec arrived at court ; and he had been sufficiently
long absent to enable his enemies to enhance in the
mind of the King every cause, or supposed cause, of
complaint which could be adduced against him. The
generals who had assisted in the taking of the Milanese,
and who now saw all their prowess rendered unavail-
ing, were loud in their censures, and joined the faction
of the Duchesse d'Angouleme in pouring out upon the
head of the unlucky commander, the full vials of their
wrath ; while the King himself, mortified by a defeat
which afforded such just cause of triumph to his ene-
mies, and incensed by this new cause of heart-burning
and difficulty, did not attempt to oppose the reason-
ings of those who counselled him to refuse all com-
munication with the Marechal, but immediately that
his return to France was made known to him, peremp-
torily declared his determination to deny him all access
to his presence. _

M. de Lautrec, — he coldly remarked to {$& Tew tiity-

vol.ii.-8 t.} m*3 '%

Ontario*

U4 Reign of

ful adherents of the unsuccessful general who still vent-
ured to urge the expediency of his not denying an
audience to one who had served him long and faith-
fully before these last reverses, — M. de Lautrec could
have nothing to communicate to his sovereign, save
that he had basely betrayed the trust which had been
reposed in him ; and by his supineness or ignorance
suffered the glory of France to be tarnished, not only
in his own person, but in that of her King. In vain,
for the first time, did even Madame de Chateaubriand
implore and weep; the love of the monarch for the
fair Franchise de Foix was waxing old ; and he had
begun to discover that the court, and even the city,
contained many beauties no less attractive than the
frail wife of M. de Chateaubriand. The chain already
hung more loosely about him ; and he was, moreover,
awakened from a dream of pleasure by the apparition
of one who came only to recall him to reflections ill-
suited to the life of festivity and splendour in which
he was indulging at the moment.

The favourite was not, however, to be thus baffled.
Lautrec had relied upon her promise to reconcile him
with the King ; and she no sooner found her personal
efforts to effect this reconciliation unavailing, than she
turned for aid to the Due de Bourbon, over whom
her influence has been already stated. The moment
was an inauspicious one for the Connetable to inter-
fere in so delicate a question, but he was aware that
the Duchesse d'Angouleme was untiring in her efforts
to ruin not only the young Countess herself, but all her
family ; and this consciousness sufficed to decide him.
Since the commencement of his secret negotiations

Francis I 115

with the Emperor he had considered it expedient to
appear more frequently in the circle of the King, where
he affected entirely to overlook the coldness with
which he was received, and revenged himself by an
exhibition of splendour which was gall and wormwood
to the spirit of Louise de Savoie ; and the more so that
his general popularity had been rather increased than
diminished since the commencement of their legal
struggle. Bourbon was aware also of the primary
cause of the disasters in Milan, and he well knew the
anxiety of the Duchess-mother to prevent all confiden-
tial communications between her son and the Mare-
chal; and thus doubly urged, on the one side by his
passion for Franchise de Foix, and on the other by
his desire to humble Madame d'Angouleme, he at once
promised to make the cause of Lautrec his own, and to
obtain for him the desired and important interview.

It was not, however, without considerable difficulty
that he succeeded ; and that he eventually did so is
probably to be ascribed to the conviction of Francis
that it would be dangerous to incur the further resent-
ment of so powerful a noble. The audience was there-
fore granted, but the King's reception of the Marechal
was stern and ungracious.

" You come to tell me, Sir, that you are beaten,"
he commenced, without replying to the profound salu-
tation of M. de Lautrec, who had paused at the very
threshold of the apartment ; " that through your care-
lessness and want of zeal you have sacrificed many of
my bravest generals, victimized a gallant army, and
lost one of her finest provinces to France. You might
have spared both me and yourself so dishonourable a

n6 Reign of

recital. Your despatches have told me more than
enough already; and my time will be better spent in
endeavouring to repair the fault of which you have
been guilty, than in listening to your excuses."

" I am at a loss to know by what act of my own I
have merited such a reception from Your Majesty,"
said the Marechal firmly.

" How, Sir ! " exclaimed Francis with increasing
vehemence ; " do you ask the reason of a displeasure
which you might have anticipated? Have you not
lost the Milanese ? Have you not tarnished the glory
of the French arms ? Have you not — " he paused for
an instant ; and before he could resume his reproaches,
Lautrec interposed proudly —

" No, Sire ; I am guiltless of each and all of these
accusations. That the Milanese is in the hands of
Your Majesty's enemies, is unfortunately too certain;
but the loss is to be attributed rather to Your Majesty
than to myself. Your cavalry were eighteen months
in arrears of pay ; and I had already warned both Your
Majesty and your ministers, that unless I received a
supply of money within a given period, it would be
impossible for me to enforce obedience, or to prevent
desertion. If, therefore, I was thus apprehensive of
the effect of this destitution upon the troops of France,
fighting under the banners of their own King, and
jealous of their own glory, Your Majesty may believe
that I had small faith in the fidelity of the Swiss, who,
eager only for gain, were little likely to sacrifice their
individual interests to those of a foreign sovereign ; nor
did I overrate the danger. By those mercenaries,
clamorous to replace by rapine the wages which had

Francis I 117

been withheld from them, I was fated to endure the
mortification of being compelled to give battle to the
enemy at a disadvantage; and to see my authority
disregarded at the moment of danger, only to find my-
self abandoned by the very troops to whom I owed
this jeopardy, and who might have been secured to our
cause had I been enabled to satisfy their claims. You
will pardon my warmth, Sire ; but my only fault — and
I admit it to have been a grievous one — was my weak-
ness in according faith to promises which I now find
were made only to betray me."

" And the four hundred thousand crowns, M. le
Marechal," exclaimed the King somewhat less
sharply ; " surely they might, had they been properly
dispensed, have silenced these clamours for a time."

" They would have done more," replied Lautrec ;
" they would have saved the duchy ; but no portion of
that promised supply ever crossed the Alps."

" Let M. de Semblangay be instantly summoned,"
cried Francis with a kindling eye to the usher on duty.
" It may be that we have done you injustice, M. le
Marechal ; and yet — there must be some mistake : the
Baron de Semblangay is an old and tried subject ; he
has never yet failed either me or my predecessors.
None knew better than he the difficulty with which so
large a sum was raised, nor the importance of its im-
mediate transmission. Come forward, father, come
forward ; " he continued, as the old Minister of
Finance, whom he was accustomed thus to address,
and for whom he affected an attachment exceeding
even that of a sovereign towards his most favoured
subject, made his appearance at the threshold. " What

n8 Reign of

is this which M. de Lautrec tells us ? He asserts that
the four hundred thousand crowns raised by my order
for the supply of the army ol Italy, never reached his
camp! Through what channel were they trans-
mitted ? "

" M. le Marechal has rightly informed Your Maj-
esty," said De Semblancay. " Her Highness the
Duchess claimed the money as I was about to expedite
it, by virtue of her authority as Regent of the King-
dom ; and I hold her receipt for the whole sum."

" My mother ! " murmured Francis, as a red spot
rose to his brow ; " there must be some mistake ; but
she can doubtlessly explain it. Follow me, M. le
Ministre."

The usher threw back the heavy tapestry which
veiled the door of the audience chamber, and the King
disappeared behind it with a rapid step, followed by
M. de Semblancay.

When they reached the private apartments of
Madame d'Angouleme, she rose with a smile to wel-
come her son, but Francis was too much excited to
waste time in empty courtesies : " Do you know what
you have done, Madame ? " he exclaimed, as he threw
himself upon a seat. " You have lost me the
Milanese."

The Duchess raised her fine eyes in astonishment.
" Your Majesty is in error," she said with a slight
sneer ; " that was a feat reserved for M. de Lautrec —
for the brother of Madame de Chateaubriand."

" I repeat, Madame, that you have lost me the Milan-
ve§e, by withholding the supplies which I had destined
for-'my troops."

m

Francis I 119

" I deny the charge," said the Duchess haughtily.
" Who dares to accuse me of this ? "

" M. de Semblancay is my informant," was the reply
of the King, as he glanced alternately at his mother
and the venerable Minister.

" How, Sir ! " exclaimed Louise de Savoie, with a
frown which might have paralysed a less firm spirit
than that of the old baron ; " dare you assert that I
have held back the moneys of the state ? "

" It is at least certain, Madame," replied M. de
Semblangay, " that the sum of four hundred thousand
crowns, destined by His Majesty for the service in the
Milanese, was paid over by me into your hands, at
your express command ; and that I hold your receipt,
which I demanded at the time."

" But that sum, M. le Ministre," said the Duchess,
fixing her eyes steadily upon those of the old states-
man, as if to prompt his answer ; " that sum, you are
aware, was due to me, and was the amount of the
savings of many years, placed in your hands for better
security, and of which I chanced at that particular
moment to stand in need. You should have explained
this matter to the King."

The Minister was silent.

" Why did you not inform me of so important a
circumstance, M. de Semblancay ? " asked Francis
impatiently. " We might then have applied some
remedy ; whereas the evil is now beyond recall. Why
did you not at once acquaint me with the whole of the
affair?"

" I was not aware, Sir," was the steady reply, " 4^a^ ^
Her Highness believed herself to have any daim^c^i*1^

Q)»rtaria.

120 Reign of

the money in question, or that she had been in the
habit of limiting her outlay within her means."

" Do you intend the King to understand that I had
not entrusted you with that sum ? " asked Louise de
Savoie emphatically.

" Assuredly, Madame. It is my first duty to justify
myself to my sovereign ; and I therefore, with all due
respect for Your Highness, religiously declare that I
have never held in my hands moneys which were your
private property."

" Have a care, Sir ! " exclaimed the Duchess, in a
tone of menace ; but before she could proceed to give
utterance to the threat that quivered on her lips, the
young King had sprung up.

" Enough, enough ! " he said, with an emotion which
he was unable to control ; " we need not aggravate an
evil which is already too great. Let this subject never
be renewed; and may we in future better understand
how to uphold our common interests."

The upright old minister was not, however, to be
thus silenced, and he forthwith insisted that commis-
sioners should be appointed to examine the public
accounts, and to report the result of their labours to
the King ; thus forcing upon him the conviction of his
own honesty and the treachery of his mother ; a perti-
nacity which was never forgiven by the vindictive
Duchess, who felt that the confidence which had hith-
erto been placed in her by her son must be seriously
shaken by such an exposure.

Nevertheless, she did not hesitate to complain that
she had been subjected to an affront which it was the
duty of Francis to avenge ; and she even urged him to

Francis I 121

displace M. de Semblangay; but the annoyance to
which he had been subjected through her avarice, and
her desire to injure the Marechal de Lautrec even at
the expense of his own honour, was too galling and
too recent to render her expostulations successful, and
he firmly refused to commit so flagrant an act of in-
justice. A vengeance like that of Louise de Savoie
could, however, afford to wait. She was aware of the
fickle nature of Francis, who, unlike herself, was in-
capable of nourishing a lasting passion either of love
or hate ; and she felt that death alone could deprive
her of her victim. Nor had the venerable Minister a
less inveterate enemy in the Chancellor Duprat, who
was continually thwarted in his measures by the un-
compromising probity of his colleague ; and who
gladly made common cause with Madame d'Angou-
leme when he ascertained her enmity against him.

Once more Madame de Chateaubriand triumphed.
The King, on his next interview with Lautrec, assured
him that he was perfectly exonerated from all blame ;
and a fresh struggle commenced between the mother
and the mistress. The court was thus divided into
two separate factions ; at the head of one was Louise
de Savoie, M. de Savoie her brother, the Chancellor,
and Bonnivet; who, despite his passion for the fair
favourite, could not resist the blandishments of the
Duchess, but who laboured assiduously to secure her
interest in the furtherance of his own views of ambi-
tion and aggrandizement, and who was further bound
to her through their mutual hatred of Bourbon. It
was at her instigation, and with her assistance, that
he had built the magnificent chateau to which we have

122 Reign of

already alluded as so great a mortification to the
Connetable ; with her sanction that he encouraged the
profligacy of the King — the more readily, perhaps,
because he was not sorry to detach him from Madame
de Chateaubriand, although Francis either had, or
affected to have, remained blind to their mutual attach-
ment, even when it had long ceased to be a matter of
surmise ; and by her influence that he was enabled to
pursue a course of reckless and extravagant ostenta-
tion, which rendered him the wonder and the envy of
all the less fortunate courtiers; while to the party of
the Duchess-mother were also attached the young and
idle nobility, to whom the freedom of her circle, and
the beauty of the women whom she collected about
her, formed a greater attraction than they could find
elsewhere.

The faction of Madame de Chateaubriand was less
numerous, but still formidable. Her own brothers,
and all the most celebrated generals of the time, were
in her train; and while in the licentious court of
Madame d'Angouleme nothing was discussed save
love and pleasure ; honour and renown were the lead-
ing topics among the customary guests of Francoise
de Foix.

And amid all this rivalry and bitterness of spirit, the
patient Queen lived on in purity and piety, weeping
over the evil which she saw, and thankful for the peace
which she was enabled to preserve about her. At-
tached, even from her childhood, to the Due de Bour-
bon, as to a loved and honoured brother, she could not
forego the hope of still claiming him by a title which
he had long borne in her heart, and consequently con-

Francis I 123

tinued her efforts to unite him with the Princess Renee.
Nor was the Duke insensible to her regard, or to the
pain which she evinced at the persecution to which he
was subjected. She was the one bond which yet
linked him to his country; the one and only object
which aroused a feeling of remorse within him as he
reflected upon the enormity of his revenge. But to
his other mortifications had been added that of learn-
ing that the King's mother had obtained so great an
influence over the mind of the Princess, as to induce
her to declare that she could no longer entertain the
idea of an alliance with a noble, who must, should the
legal proceedings instituted against him prove fatal to
his claims, become one of the poorest princes in
Europe. Yet still the good Queen trusted to over-
come these difficulties ; and whenever the Duke ap-
peared at court, he found his warmest welcome ever
proceed from her lips.

Fresh demands were at this period made on the at-
tention of the French King, by the reduced and fam-
ished state of the garrison which, under Jacques de
Daillon, Seigneur de Lude,* had during the space of
an entire year kept the Spanish army in check before
Fontarabia, but which had now become so utterly ex-
hausted by fatigue and famine that he announced the

♦Jacques de Daillon, Seigneur de Lude, was Seneschal of Anjou, and
captain of fifty men-at-arms. He distinguished himself greatly in the
defence of Bresse against the Venetians, during the reign of Louis XII.,
by whom he had been entrusted with the government of that province;
having maintained himself for ten days in the citadel, after the enemy,
by effecting an entrance through one of the great sewers, had obtained
possession of the town. He was also celebrated for his gallantry
throughout the wars of Italy, Lombardy, and Ferrara. He was the son
of the Governor and favourite of Louis XI. : and the father of Guy de Daillon,
governor of Poitou, who in his youth had been standard-bearer to the Due de
Nemours.

124 Reign of

impossibility of further resistance unless he could be
immediately relieved. The fortress was surrounded on
all sides by the enemy; and although numerous at-
tempts had already been made to convey supplies to
him by sea, all had failed through the vigilance of the
Spanish privateers who guarded the coast; and disease
and want were making hourly havoc among the already
diminished troops.

In this emergency, although once more dreaming
the conquest of the Milanese, and anxious to collect a
powerful army for that expedition, Francis lost not a
moment in despatching M. de Chatillon at the head
of a large force to the relief of the besieged garrison;
but this reinforcement was delayed by the sudden and
serious illness of its commander, which soon termi-
nated fatally, and rendered it necessary to halt the
troops upon their march until another general could
arrive to take the command ; a circumstance which had
nearly proved fatal to the success of the enterprise.
The Marquis de la Palice, however, by whom M. de
Chatillon was replaced, hastened to repair the evil,
and at once advanced to Fontarabia, although the ar-
rival of a force which had been despatched by sea to
co-operate with him, had been prevented by contrary
winds.

As he approached the beleaguered city he found the
Spanish army encamped upon the river-bank, and pre-
pared to dispute his passage; but, resolved to effect,
if possible, the immediate rescue of the unfortunate
garrison, he would not suffer the inequality of numbers
to delay his purpose, and accordingly commenced a
heavy fire of artillery upon the enemy's lines from the

Francis I 125

opposite side of the stream. The guns were skilfully
worked, and created so much havoc, that the Spaniards
gave way, and under cover of the smoke he succeeded
in crossing; when being opposed by Count William
de Furstemberg at the head of six thousand lansque-
nets, he made so desperate a charge that they were
completely routed, and despite their numerical superi-
ority were compelled to retreat in disorder to the
mountains.

The enemy thus driven back, the Marquis entered the
city in triumph, with his supplies both of provisions
and arms ; and having restored the garrison to its for-
mer strength, replaced the exhausted but gallant Comte
de Lude in his command by M. Franget,* who had
been the lieutenant-general of the Comte de Chatillon,
and in whose arms he had died. The sufferings of the
little garrison which had so pertinaciously held out
month after month, had been of the most frightful
description. After having for some time subsisted
upon their horses, the troops were compelled to have
recourse to every species of vermin, such as cats, rats,
and dogs; and ultimately, when even these failed, to
devour the skins of the animals they had slain, and the
parchments in the public offices, which they boiled
down as the general food of both officers and men.
The appearance of the survivors was consequently

* Captain Franget was a soldier of experience and tried valour; who,
however, suffered himself to tarnish his military reputation by delivering
up Fontarabia to the enemy, after a brief siege of eight days. Francis 1.
was so indignant at this act of cowardice, that he condemned him to lose
his head; but was dissuaded from carrying out his threat by the en-
treaties of M. de Lude, who pleaded the gallantry of his former achieve-
ments. The sentence was consequently commuted to expulsion from
the service. His sword was broken, his military rank annulled, and
himself exiled from the court.

126 Reign of

wretched in the extreme ; and M. de Lude hastened,
immediately upon the appointment of his successor,
to pay his respects to his sovereign, — by whom he was
cordially and honourably received, — and thence to his
estate, in order to recruit his strength, and to recover
from the effects of his long and melancholy privation.
The intelligence of the relief of Fontarabia some-
what tempered the exultation of the Emperor, whose
recent successes in Italy had led him to anticipate equal
good fortune beyond the Pyrenees ; and he at once
determined to counteract the partial triumph of Fran-
cis by urging forward the compact into which, through
the medium of the Due de Bourbon, he had already
entered with Henry VIII. He soon, however, dis-
covered from the tone of the correspondence into
which he entered for this purpose, palpable evidence
of the changed feelings of the English Cardinal, who
had never forgiven Charles for the falsification of his
pledges regarding the Papacy, and the substitution of
the comparatively obscure Cardinal of Tortosa for
himself upon the throne of St. Peter ; a substitution
which, as he was well aware, had been effected through
his sole agency. Nevertheless Charles did not de-
spair ; he had studied the nature of the man with whom
he had to deal ; and once more he revived the question
of the triple crown, assuring the English Minister that
the age and infirmities of Adrian VI. rendered it im-
possible that he should long enjoy the dignity to which
he had attained, while Wolsey himself, still in the prime
of life, was his only fitting successor; and pledging
himself that should the Cardinal exert his influence to
induce the English King to accept his proposition of a

Francis I 127

treaty of alliance against France, he might himself de-
pend on his own support upon the decease of the
reigning Pope.

This correspondence, which was carried on through-
out a couple of months, ultimately so changed its
character, that Charles, satisfied his point was gained
with the Minister, resolved once more to visit England
in person, and explain in detail his views and projects
to the sovereign ; a piece of consummate policy which
he carried into effect by landing at Dover near the end
of May ; where he was received by Henry VIII. with as
much cordiality as heretofore; and soon succeeded in
rendering him equally anxious with himself for the
invasion of the French territories. Mutual courtesies
were exchanged between the two monarchs; Charles
conferring upon the Earl of Surrey the commission of
admiral in his dominions ; and Henry investing his
imperial guest with the Order of the Garter. Nor did
the politic Emperor fail, by every means in his power,
to remove the mistrust of the Cardinal-legate, to whom
he affected to explain the imperative reasons which
had compelled him to favour the election of Adrian
VI. ; and whose confidence he once more purchased
by a life-pension of nine thousand golden crowns.

As a declaration of war against France became in-
evitable on the part of the English King after this
compact with Charles, it was necessary to discover
some pretext sufficiently plausible to justify a step
which must necessarily involve the interests of all
Europe ; and eventually neither Henry nor his Minis-
ter could devise any excuse more rational than a pre-
sumed indignity shown to the former as arbitrator be-

128 Reign of

tween Francis and the Emperor, by the refusal of the
French sovereign to give up Fontarabia at his sug-
gestion; and the fact that Francis had permitted the
Due d'Aubigny to visit Scotland, where he had, as
they alleged, excited an ill-feeling against both Henry
VIII. and his sister.

The latter argument was, perhaps, less flimsy than
the first, inasmuch as it is certain that Francis, who had
long suspected the bad faith of Henry, had, with a view
of regaining the same influence over the Scotch which
had been exercised by his predecessors, instead of
leaving the Regency of the Kingdom during the minor-
ity of James V. in the hands of his mother Marguerite,
the sister of Henry VIII., desired John, Due d'Au-
bigny, the nephew of James III., to return at once to
Scotland, and to claim his part in the government.

Although born a subject of France, the Scotch
Parliament at once recognised the right of the Duke
to share the Regency with the Queen-mother; and
d'Aubigny, whose prejudices were all in favour of his
native country, exerted himself to induce the nation to
declare war against England; by which means, al-
though he did not succeed in his attempt, he created a
considerable commotion on the border. Francis,
meanwhile, deemed it expedient to write to the Eng-
lish monarch, asserting that the Duke had acted with-
out any authority from himself, and had even left
France without his permission ; but the reply of Henry
VIIL, not only denied his belief of the fact, but was,
moreover, so studiously offensive in the terms of that
denial, that every doubt as to the hostility which he
bore him was removed from the mind of the French
King.

Francis I 129

Sir Thomas Cheyne, the English Ambassador in
France, received instructions in the month of May, to
urge once more upon Francis the cession of Fontara-
bia, and to remonstrate with him upon his interference
in Scotland ; and as the King was at that moment
absent from Paris, the Minister demanded an audience
of the Duchesse d'Angouleme, to whom he declared
the nature of the instructions which had reached him
from his court ; when Louise de Savoie expressed the
strongest desire to effect a pacification between the
two monarchs, reminding the Ambassador of the confi-
dence and good feeling which had existed between
them so recently ; and declaring that her son was
anxious for its continuance. She, moreover, under-
took to acquaint the King with what had passed
during the interview, and to use all her influence to
preserve a friendly understanding between the two
countries.

In a subsequent audience of Francis himself, Sir
Thomas Cheyne reiterated the demands and remon-
strances of his sovereign, to which the French King
replied, as he had previously done by letter; and on
an intimation from the Ambassador, that, in the event
of his declining to comply with the terms proposed by
his master, and persisting in hostilities against the
Emperor, the English monarch would consider him-
self bound in conscience to declare against him, Fran-
cis proudly replied, that so long as Henry acted accord-
ing to a sense of right and justice, he could ask no
more ; that the Emperor had been the first aggressor,
but that he had long seen with how little favour his
own interests had been regarded by England during
Vol. II.— 9

130 Reign of

the conferences which had taken place at Calais ; and
that, unless Henry were determined to award more
even-handed justice for the future, he would do well
to leave Charles and himself to settle their own differ-
ences. The Emperor, he moreover declared, had no
more right to the Milanese than he himself could ad-
vance to the Kingdom of Spain ; and that he esteemed
himself the equal of Charles upon all points ; and would
have been both glad and able to serve Henry for his
love alone, more heartily than his rival would do for
both his love and his treasures. All he now asked,
therefore, he said, was to be left free to follow out his
own measures, and if this were conceded without for-
eign interference, he did not despair of rendering
Charles " one of the poorest Princes in Christendom."

The English Ambassador, chagrined by the convic-
tion that his errand was one of injustice, and convinced
by the resolute attitude of the French King that he
would not willingly make the required concessions,
and thus involve himself in a peril of which the conse-
quences might prove fatal to his throne, endeavoured
to induce the Admiral Bonnivet, who was present at
the conference, to prevail upon his sovereign to accept
the proposition for a truce which he was authorized to
make ; but the haughty favourite at once replied that
he would rather see his master in his grave than urge
him to a measure which involved his honour.

Thus foiled on all hands, Sir Thomas Cheyne next
informed the King that the Emperor, who was about
to depart for Spain, had entrusted the protection of the
Low Countries during his absence to the English mon-
arch, a charge which he had agreed to undertake. But

Francis I 131

even this insidious measure did not bend the spirit of
Francis, who replied in a tone of biting sarcasm, that
the Emperor had resolved wisely, as there could be no
doubt that Henry VIII. was far more capable of de-
fending the realm than its own sovereign, while the
arrangement afforded clear evidence of the political
bias of both parties.

" This much, however," he added, " I will still say ;
that I have in nowise deserved that your King should
take part against me with my enemy ; from our past
friendship I looked for help rather than hindrance at his
hands ; but if there be no remedy, and that the King's
highness will have it thus, I have no fear but that I
shall be able to defend both myself and my realm with
God's help ; although, for his sake, I shall never again
put faith in any prince living. Moreover, if he loses
me now, I vow that henceforth he hath lost me for ever.
But " — and for the first time his voice quivered for an
instant — " I will not believe that he can play me false ;
for of myself I may truly declare that the extremity of
this war doth not grieve me half so much as to lose a
friend whom I esteemed beyond all others."

At the termination of the interview Francis returned
to Lyons ; and on the 29th of May, the English herald
who had been despatched for that purpose, repaired
thither, and in the palace of the Archbishop, where the
King had taken up his abode, made a formal declara-
tion of war on the part of his royal master, to which
Francis replied coldly and proudly; and hostilities
forthwith commenced. The Earl of Surrey, at the
head of the combined fleets of England and Spain,
commenced his operations by destroying several of

132 Reign of

the coast towns of Normandy and Brittany ; and then,
abandoning his ships, took the command of the troops
on land, and proceeded to operate upon the French
frontier ; when he was joined by the Comte de Buren,
the lieutenant-general of the Emperor in the Low
Countries, their joint army amounting to eighteen
thousand men.

Nevertheless, Francis evinced no uneasiness. He
trusted that the strength of his frontier of Picardy,
whose fortresses were efficiently armed and garrisoned,
would suffice to arrest the progress of both the Eng-
lish and Flemish troops, while the Pyrenees defended
him from the attacks of the Spaniards ; and he still
proceeded with the organization of the army with
which he once more anticipated the conquest of the
Milanese. The care of the seat of war was meanwhile
confided to the Due de Vendome ; and Francis availed
himself of the threatened invasion to remove a silver
screen erected by Louis XL round the tomb of St.
Martin, and to coin it into money for the payment of
the troops.

While he was thus engaged he received intelligence
that his generals had drawn the Due d'Aerschott, and
a strong party of the imperial troops into a snare, from
which they were not likely to escape, through the
means of a soldier of the garrison of Guise, who was
instructed by the Seigneur de Longueval, the Gov-
ernor, to volunteer to effect the entrance of the Flem-
ish commander through a gate of the city which he
was appointed to guard. Aerschott, having closely
questioned the man, who professed great discontent
with his position, and weariness of the service in which

Francis I 133

he was engaged, fell into the trap that had been laid
for him ; and arrangements were made, immediately
after Easter, for profiting by the supposed treason.
The Duke was to approach the city with a force of
picked men on whom he could depend ; while the
Marquis de Fiennes, the Governor of Flanders, was to
make a demonstration against Terouenne, with a
strong body of troops, in order to distract the attention
of the French ; and meanwhile, precautions had been
taken that when Aerschott advanced upon the city,
the Due de Vendome, the Marquis de Fleuranges, and
Richard de la Pole, should cut off his retreat, and com-
pel him to lay down his arms.

Had Vendome executed this manoeuvre without in-
forming the King of his design, there is every reason
to suppose that it would have proved successful; but
Francis had no sooner learnt his purpose, and been
convinced of its feasibility, than he determined to assist
in person at the capture of the Duke, and despatched
orders that no steps should be taken in the business
under any pretext until he could arrive upon the spot ;
an object which he effected by travelling post, on the
very evening before the enterprise was to take place.
The mere fact, however, of his sudden appearance with
the army, when he was known to have been at Blois
only two days previously, sufficed to arouse the sus-
picions of the imperialists ; and, although Aerschott
had already commenced his march, he immediately
halted, and abandoned the undertaking, convinced that
some ambush had been prepared for him ; and thus,
through his own puerile vanity, Francis lost an oppor-
tunity of seriously weakening the strength of his ad-
versaries.

134 Reign of

Mortified by a failure which he had himself induced,
the King then directed M. de Vendome to advance
with his forces, and relieve Terouenne, before which
Fiennes had sat down, little anticipating so formidable
an enemy ; the militia of Ghent, moreover, who formed
a portion of his force, and who now saw themselves
threatened by a peril upon which they had not calcu-
lated, immediately abandoned his camp, and retreated
beyond the Lys ; thus creating a disorder of which the
Due de Vendome was about to take advantage, when
M. de Brion, galloping up to the lines, once more com-
manded him to retard the attack until the arrival of
the King, who was preparing to join in the battle.
Mortified as he was, the Duke was compelled to obey ;
and before Francis reached the field M. de Fiennes
had time to extricate himself, and to secure a safe
position.

Notwithstanding these failures, the French King
had as yet experienced no positive check ; and Surrey,
disheartened by the slow and unsatisfactory progress
of the war, in which he had reaped neither honour nor
success, while he had sustained severe loss, proceeded
to lay siege to the town of Hesdin, of which he thought
himself secure, as the fortifications were imperfect, and
the garrison comprised only thirty gendarmes, and
about seventeen hundred foot soldiers. Herein, how-
ever, he deceived himself, as the Sieur du Bier, by
whom it was commanded, made so gallant a resistance
with his slender garrison, that after he had spent a
fortnight before the walls he was compelled to raise
the siege ; the incessant rains having seriously affected
his troops, while they had gained no evident advantage

Francis I 135

over the enemy ; and thus foiled in an enterprise which
he had originally regarded as insignificant, he aban-
doned the attempt, and marched homeward with his
army, disgracing both himself and his cause by the
wanton and needless cruelties that were committed on
their route.

Under these circumstances Francis considered him-
self once more at liberty to pursue his measures against
Milan, and to detach from the army of M. de Vendome
the Duke of Suffolk, known in France as the White
Rose, the pretender to the throne of England, whose
claims he now openly espoused, with his lansquenets
and two or three thousand Picards, and to despatch
them to Lyons, where the army, destined to invade
Italy, were to assemble in the month of August. Bon-
nivet, with six thousand French troops, was at the
same time to cross Mont Cenis, and to establish him-
self at Suza ; while Montmorency was to join him there
with twelve thousand infantry, which he was commis-
sioned to raise in Switzerland. Francis himself was to
join the army near Turin ; and meanwhile Prosper
Colonna, who had been appointed general of the Italian
league, was busied in fortifying the passes of Tesino,
in order to defend the entrance of the Milanese.

The French King had not, however, reached Lyons
when he was met by Louis de Breze, the Seneschal of
Normandy, who apprised him that his person was in
danger from a plot which had been formed against him,
and which involved the safety of his kingdom.

Startled, but not convinced, Francis desired to be
more fully informed of its nature and extent; upon
which De Breze confided to him that he had gained

136 Reign of

intelligence from two Norman gentlemen who had
been tampered with by a powerful Prince of his own
family, who had endeavoured to induce them to facili-
tate the entrance of the English troops into their prov-
ince ; a fact which the King had no sooner ascertained
than he determined to delay his departure from France
until he had fathomed the whole conspiracy.

Before he again reached Amboise the Duchesse
d'Angouleme had summoned the two informers to her
presence, when, throwing off their previous reserve,
they openly accused the Due de Bourbon of treason,
and revealed all they knew. The consternation of
Francis was unbounded. He saw too late the error
which he had committed, when he drove so proud a
spirit to exasperation ; but, nevertheless, he as yet pos-
sessed no proof of the truth of the accusation, and he
resolved to judge for himself of its plausibility.

The opportunity soon presented itself. The Duke
was, as we have already stated, the frequent guest of
Queen Claude ; and a day or two after his own return
to Amboise, Francis was apprised that he was at table
with her; upon which he entered the apartment ab-
ruptly, and when Bourbon would have risen, desired
him to resume his seat, saying sarcastically, " So, our
cousin of Bourbon is about to take a second wife. Is
it not so ? "

The Duke calmly replied in the negative.

" Nay, deny it not," persisted the King sharply ; " we
know all your plans, sir, even those which you have
concocted with the Emperor ; nor are we likely to over-
look them."
.-, UfQfi -,this the Connetable once more rose, exclaim-

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Francis I 137

ing, " You threaten me, sir, when I have done nothing
to deserve it. Suffer me to withdraw ; " and as he
spoke he made a low obeisance, and left the apartment.
In another moment he mounted and rode from the
palace attended by all the noblemen of the court, and
on the following day he retired to one of his palaces.
Convinced that he was suspected, he lost no more
time in rallying about him those friends and adherents
upon whom he felt that he could depend. He knew
that his life was no longer safe, and that he was in-
debted even for the present reprieve to an indiscretion
on the part of Francis of which he had not calculated
the consequences. It was in vain that many of those
who were attached to his interests, especially the Comte
de St. Vallier,* father-in-law of M. de Breze, (who in
his old age had married his daughter, the young and
beautiful Diana of Poitiers,) represented to him that
by bearing arms against his sovereign he was not only
about to sacrifice all that was dearest to him — country,
kindred, and friends ; but also, in the event of failure,
to subject himself to an ignominious death ; to make
common cause with an enemy who had hitherto trem-
bled at his name ; and to tarnish the glory which it had
been the labour of his whole life to secure. They ad-
mitted the persecution to which he had been subjected,
but reminded him that it was the result of a hatred
induced by the passion which he had inspired in the
breast of a vindictive woman ; that the King himself
was well disposed towards him, and had only been
rendered harsh by circumstances ; and that when the
kingdom was threatened with invasion, it had a right
to look to him as one of its strongest bulw^jjfc&i?* £*'

♦Jean de Poitiers, Comte de St. Vallier, was captain of theVKmg's a/cKM-s/'k

138 Francis I

In reply to these expostulations Bourbon bitterly
expatiated upon the wrong and indignity of which he
had been made the victim ; and bade them remember
that he had been despoiled of his estates, thwarted in
his projects, injured even in his affections, and that no
alternative was left to him. He declared that he no
longer placed confidence in the King, who had no will
save that of his mother ; and no hope for himself while
she retained her influence in France. " Better, far
better," he exclaimed vehemently, " to trust to a Prince
who is his own ruler, to live a man among men, than to
be subjected to the wayward fancies of a licentious
woman, who knows no 'law but her own vices. You
weep, De Vallier; you, my friend and my kinsman;
but I can weep no longer. I have not shaped my own
destiny — it has been hewn out for me, and I have only
to follow it to the end. I know that none of you will
betray me ; I believe that many of you will be willing
to share my fortunes ; and I say to all, that let them
lead to which point they may, be it throne or a scaffold,
I shall never cease to remember with gratitude and
affection those who not only felt my wrongs, but helped
me to avenge them."

The tone of his address was so impassioned, the
grievances of which he complained so notorious, and
his person so popular, that it is scarcely wonderful that
all who heard him should at once make common cause
in his behalf; and this effected, he proceeded for the
moment to his estate at Moulins, feigning severe ill-
ness, in order that he should not be summoned to attend
the King to Italy ; a command which he would have
been unable to evade.

CHAPTER VI.

Bourbon is Suspected by the King — Francis Determines on
His Arrest — Visits Him at Moulins — Double Dissimulation
— Francis Returns to Amboise — Bourbon's Sick-Chamber
— M. le Wartz Abandons His Post — Bourbon Escapes to
Chantille — The Hunting- Party — First Misunderstanding be-
tween the King and Madame Chateaubriand — Mediation
of Marguerite de Valois — A Conspirator — The King and
M. de Pomperant — M. de Pomperant Leaves Amboise —
Arrest of the Comte de St. Vallier — Indignation of Francis
— He Despatches Troops against Bourbon — Bourbon
Escapes to Mantua — Fate of His Adherents — The English
and Spanish Invade France — are Compelled to Retire — The
Command of the Army of Italy is Conferred upon Bonnivet
— Confiscation of Bourbon's Estates — A Gasconnade —
Trial of the Conspirators — Diane of Poitiers — Her Mar-
riage— Her New Home — She Arrives at Court to Intercede
for the Life of Her Father — Has an Audience of Francis —
The Commuted Sentence — Diane and Her Biographers.

BOURBON had not miscalculated the intentions
of the King, whose suspicions of his loyalty
becoming hourly stronger, had resolved to possess
himself of his person ; but, as Francis could effect
nothing against him in a province where the will of
the Duke was the only law, and as he was himself about
to travel with an escort too weak to undertake bis
capture, he resolved to await the arrival of the troops,

139

140 Reign of

which, under the command of De la Pole, were on
their way to Lyons. In the mean time remembering',
perhaps, the provocation which the Duke had received,
and anxious to ascertain if it were yet possible to
regain him, he determined to deviate from his direct
route, and to visit him at Moulins, where he might be
enabled to judge for himself of the probability of such
an event.

On his arrival he was received with every demon-
stration of respect and deference, and introduced into
the chamber of his host by M. de Pomperant, where
he found him in bed, complaining of severe and pain-
ful indisposition. The King condoled with him upon
his sufferings, and asked various questions as to the
nature of the attack, which were calmly and readily
answered by the Duke ; after which, seating himself
beside his pillow, he said gently and kindly : " I am
informed, cousin of Bourbon, that you have been
harassed and annoyed by recent circumstances; but
you are wrong to let them weigh upon your mind, for
whatever may be the result of the suit, and the decision
of the parliament, so long as you serve me loyally, you
shall not be despoiled. I have heard, moreover, that
you have been in treaty with the Emperor, forgetting
your allegiance as a French subject, and the duty
which you owe to your sovereign ; but in this rumor I
place no faith. Your rank as a Prince of the blood,
and, still more, the great deeds which you have already
accomplished, render such treachery impossible ; and
I no more credit the report, than you, on your side,
should believe that I could see you deprived of your
possessions."

Francis I 141

Bourbon was not, however, to be duped with words.
He had instantly comprehended the purpose of the
King in thus visiting him ; and he accordingly replied
with equal dissimulation ; — admitting that he had in-
deed received offers from the Emperor through one
of his agents, of which he had resolved to inform His
Majesty when he could do so personally; but that,
situated as he had lately been, he had not chosen to
entrust a secret of that importance to a third person,
and had, consequently, awaited the arrival of the King
himself in order to communicate it. He followed up
this assurance by disclosing so much of what had
passed as proved the anxiety of Charles to attach him
to his interests, but was careful to avoid everything
which might tend to compromise either himself or his
friends ; and, finally, he bewailed his misfortune in thus
being overtaken by sickness at a moment when he
should have been by the side of his sovereign; con-
cluding, however, by assuring Francis that his phy-
sicians, notwithstanding the severity of the attack, had
decided that it would not prove of long duration ; and
that, in the course of a week or ten days, he would be
able to travel as far as Lyons, by easy stages in a litter.

The suspicions of the King were in a great degree
dissipated. The manner of the Connetable was so
calm and self-possessed, and his account of the trans-
action between himself and the Emperor so simple
and unembarrassed, that, as he rose to take his leave,
he urged him to be cautious of his health, and told him
that he should await with impatience his arrival at
Lyons.

Having, however, decided to return to Amboise to

142 Reign of

have a parting interview with his mother, whom he
had again appointed Regent of the kingdom during
his absence, Francis took the precaution to send a
confidential person, M. Perrot de la Bretonniere,
Seigneur de Wartz, to Moulins, ostensibly for the pur-
pose of ascertaining the progress of the Duke towards
convalescence, but with strict orders not to lose sight
of him after he was able to leave his bed, and to bring
him to Lyons with all speed. This new attention on
the part of the King was perfectly appreciated by
Bourbon, who was aware that De Wartz was merely
sent as a spy, of whom he must rid himself at the first
convenient opportunity ; and he consequently affected
to suffer under constant relapses of his malady, al-
though he expressed his earnest hope that he should
ere long be enabled to join the army ; and evinced the
greatest interest in its movements. He constantly
complained bitterly of the restraint of a sick-room;
and, on one occasion, even ventured to leave the house
leaning upon the arm of his unwelcome guest, express-
ing his belief that the effect of the fresh air would re-
store his strength. On the following day he, however,
complained of increased illness ; and when left for a
moment alone with M. de Wartz told him gloomily
that he began to perceive that his physicians had con-
cealed the truth, and that his disease was likely to
prove fatal.

The royal emissary was thoroughly deceived ; and
believing that his attendance upon a deathbed could
in no way serve the King, he took his leave, and re-
turned to Lyons, whence he forwarded a despatch, in-
forming Francis that the Duke was in extremity.

Francis I 143

Fresh and convincing proofs had, however, by this time
reached the ears of the monarch of the intended trea-
son of the Connetable, and his reply to the communi-
cation was a stringent order to his agent to return
immediately to his post ; but when the latter reached
Lyons, although it was obeyed upon the instant, M. de
Wartz was already too late, for he found, upon his
arrival at Moulins, that the Duke had retired to his
castle of Chantelle, a strong fortress, in which he was
perfectly secure. To add to his mortification, he was
moreover informed by a peasant whom he encountered
on his way, that Bourbon had passed Varenne on
horseback, apparently in good health; and he thus
found that his mission had signally failed.

Meanwhile such of the nobles as were implicated in
the conspiracy had remained at court, in order to avert
suspicion ; and Francis had no sooner reached Am-
boise, where the Queen, the Regent, and the Duchesse
d'Alengon were then residing, than he determined be-
fore his return to Lyons to give a hunting-party in the
forest of Bussy ; it being a marked feature in his char-
acter never to suffer public affairs, whatever their
importance, to interfere with his private pleasures.
The royal circle, consequently, removed to Chambord ;
but even in this, his favourite residence, it was ap-
parent to those about him, that the King was ill at ease.
There was a cloud upon his brow ; and occasionally he
glanced round him with a searching expression, as
though he sought to read the hearts of the gay and
glittering courtiers who crowded the saloons.

The morning which had been fixed for the hunt was
brilliant, and a numerous bevy of fair dames, all attired

144 Reign of

for the sport, were flitting through the great hall, or
surrounding the chair of the Queen, who sat in the
centre of her ladies, engaged upon some tapestry work ;
for the birth of her third son, the Prince Charles, was
yet too recent to admit of her taking part in the fatigu-
ing pleasures of the day, even had her tranquil tastes
led her to desire it. The young nobles, eager for the
sport, were glancing impatiently from time to time into
the courtyard, to watch the progress of the prepara-
tions; and, meanwhile, Francis himself stood in the
deep recess of a bay window, conversing with the
Comtesse de Chateaubriand, who, in her ample riding-
dress and richly plumed hat, looked even more lovely
than was her wont. But still it was evident that the
flattery which she would have prized the most deeply
did not meet her ear upon this occasion. The whole
air and attitude of the King were cold and repelling,
and although none were indiscreet enough to approach
the recess, still the name of Lautrec, frequently and
bitterly repeated by the King, and the tears which
stood in the eyes of the Countess, sufficed to convince
those who overheard a passing word, or looked for
an instant towards their retreat, that the vexation of
spirit by which the young monarch was oppressed had
induced him to utter some allusion to the disastrous
war in Italy, which he was about to make an effort to
redeem.

Franchise de Foix was still the perfection of loveli-
ness, but she had already become aware that she was
rapidly losing her power over the volatile monarch,
whom her charms had hitherto enslaved; and as she
stood beside him on that sunny morning, and saw that

Francis I 145

her smile had no longer power to dispel the shadow
which had gathered upon his countenance, she felt her
spirit sicken, although her courage did not fail.

" Nay, Sire," she said gently, raising her large blue
eyes appealingly to his, as the King paused after an
outbreak of indignant anger ; " surely you are too
harsh. Consider the difficulties with which he had to
contend, the privations which he was called upon to
suffer. You know his zeal, his loyalty, and his devo-
tion; do not, I beseech you, attribute to him the re-
verses which would with more justice be visited
elsewhere."

" You talk glibly, Madame," was the stern reply ;
" and I have, perhaps, given you license to do so, by
countenancing the madness of a man to whom at your
entreaty, I gave the government of the Milanese ; a
weakness which has cost me the friendship of the Due
de Bourbon, the most powerful of my subjects — a man
who has requited me by the loss of the duchy which
was entrusted to him."

" But who would have saved it, Sire, and even aug-
mented its importance," said the Countess, with that
bold eloquence which women can always command in
defence of those who are dear to them, " if the promised
supplies had not been intercepted? "

" Enough, Madame, enough," said the King, as he
turned away, " the real criminal is yet to be detected ;
neither you nor I can decide where the blame may lie.
Let it suffice that it is not too late to punish the guilty."

Madame de Chateaubriand had presumed too much
upon her favour. A single year back, and she might
have hazarded such an allusion ; but now she saw her
Vol. II.— 10

146 Reign of

error. Only when blinded by passion can the great
brook or forgive any insinuation against their peers ;
and Francis had passed this point with the fair accuser
of his mother. Conscious, also, that he could not
maintain his position, he was irritated by a pertinacity
which compelled him to stand on the defensive; and
being unaccustomed to conceal his feelings, his con-
tracted brow and flashing eye betrayed to the fair
favourite the whole extent of her imprudence.

Trembling and terrified, the Countess in her turn
averted her face, and endeavoured to conceal the tears
which were rolling over her blenched cheeks ; while
Francis, either unconscious or careless of the emotion
he had excited, leaned listlessly over the balcony, and
affected to gaze out upon the chase beyond.

The entrance of Madame d'Alencon aroused the
King from his reverie, and when she had paid her
respects to the Queen, he beckoned her to his side.
" You have arrived at a fortunate moment, Margue-
rite," he said, making an effort to throw off the gloom
by which he was oppressed. " I am weary of waiting,
and have been amusing myself by a project which will,
I think, delight you."

" And yet neither yourself nor Madame de Chateau-
briand appeared to me to be particularly joyous when
I glanced towards you," said the Duchess playfully;
" but what is this charming project ? "

" I will, should my life be spared, pull down this
gloomy fortress, which is a blot upon so fair a land-
scape, and erect a palace better suited to the loves and
graces than a mass of old gray towers and battlemented
walls. We want gardens, too, and we will have them

Francis I 147

of regal dimensions ; while, instead of the insignificant
stream which now disfigures the domain, we will turn
the waters of the Loire, and compel them to lend their
aid in its embellishment."

" The design is indeed magnificent ! " exclaimed
Marguerite, " and it will be glorious to celebrate in
the new palace the recovery of the Milanese."

" Which is the more probable, mignonne, as I shall,
on this occasion, undertake it myself," said Francis;
" and I trust that for the future I may be able to hold
what I have gained."

The Duchess, struck by the remark, glanced tow-
ards the favourite, and at once became convinced that
she was not unconnected with the evident irritation of
the King. The nature of her education had rendered
her very indulgent to the errors of her sex ; and, con-
scious that the disgrace of Francoise de Foix would
only involve a new and perhaps a more dangerous
liaison, she hastened to avert the impending storm, by
sundry flattering comments upon the costume and
beauty of the Countess.

" Madame de Chateaubriand has to-day excelled
herself," she said admiringly, as she swept aside the
clustering feathers of her riding-hat, and passed her
fingers caressingly through one of the long fair ring-
lets which they overshadowed. " She will be the very
Dian of the woods ! "

" Madame de Chateaubriand is always charming,"
said the King, still gazing through the open window ;
" but we shall do well to pay our parting compliments
to the Queen at once, in order that no further time
may be lost when the hunt is ready ; " and as he spoke,

148 Reign of

he offered his hand to his sister, and led her to the
upper end of the hall.

Franchise de Foix followed them with a glance
which betrayed all the agony of her spirit ; and then,
feeling that she could no longer conceal her agitation,
rapidly withdrew through a side-door.

She had scarcely left the recess when the Comte de
St. Vallier approached the window, and folding his
arms upon the balcony, leaned out, apparently buried
in deep and painful thought: he was not, however,
long suffered to indulge his reverie ; for ere many
moments had elapsed, a noble, not attired in the fanci-
ful costume of the hunt, but in a close travelling dress,
placed himself at his side, and whispered anxiously :
" My time grows short — on what have you deter-
mined ? "

" I will share his fortunes, be they what they may,"
said the captain of the King's archers.

• I expected no less. No friend of the Duke would
desert him at such a moment; far less one whom he
loves as he does M. de St. Vallier."

" Are you about to return at once ? "

" Instantly : you have pledged your word, and my
mission is accomplished."

" M. de Pomperant," said the King, as he crossed
the hall, " you have adopted a strange costume for the
forest. Do you not hunt the stag with us this morn-
in?"

" Your Majesty does me honour," replied the com-
panion of St. Vallier, bowing respectfully ; " but I trust
that I may be excused, having last night received a
letter from, M. de Bourbon, in which he urges me to
return to hifn without delay."

•- ¥& '->'

r?i •• o 4-, ,f,\

Francis I 149

A frown gathered upon the brow of Francis. " I
am aware, sir," he said coldly, " that you belong to the
household of the Connetable, and that you owe him
all fitting obedience ; yet if I, alike his sovereign and
yours, condescend to invite you to remain at Cham-
bord, how then ? "

" Then, Sire," replied the noble, bowing still more
profoundly, " I shall be compelled to delay my de-
parture for Chantelle."

" How, sir ! " exclaimed Francis sharply, " do I un-
derstand you? Has M. de Bourbon left Moulins to
shut himself up in a fortress? "

" Sire, Chantelle is also a seigneurial residence."

" So I have heard," pursued the King with a with-
ering frown ; " and doubtless as magnificent as it is
secure. M. de Bourbon is an able tactician."

" The Duke is sick both in body and mind, Sire."

" He travels promptly for an invalid," was the sar-
castic reply. " Only a few days back he declared him-
self to be upon his deathbed, and now I learn that he
has performed a journey. He may recover his mental
sufferings as readily as his bodily ailments, Sir, if such
be his will ; for I myself condescended to be the phy-
sician of his mind, and to pledge my royal word that,
by virtue of my sovereign authority, and on the honour
of a gentleman, his sequestrated estates should be re-
stored to him. Consequently he can need no better
cure. But we are summoned to the chase ; and now,
sir, I leave it to your own discretion to choose between
us. You may join our sport, or retire, as you think
best."

As he ceased speaking, Francis bowed to the1'Queen,

& mm *

150 Reign of

who rose as he withdrew; and strode from the hall
attended by the courtly crowd which was to accompany
him to the forest. M. de Pomperant shortly followed ;
but availing himself of the equivocal permission he had
received, he mounted his horse in the inner court ; and
as the glittering party made their way towards Bussy,
hastened in the direction of Chantelle with all the speed
of his good steed.

This little outbreak of temper had apparently re-
stored Francis to equanimity, for he not only reined
up his horse beside that of Madame de Chateaubriand,
but even exerted himself to dispel the effects of his late
coldness; an attempt which was ere long successful;
while the Duchesse d'Alengon, who was passionately
attached to the chase, galloped hither and thither over
the greensward, until she contrived without observa-
tion to detach herself from the group immediately
about the King.

" Ride on, ladies, ride on," she said gaily, to some
of her suite who were endeavouring to follow her
erratic course ; " the soul of the green wood is freedom
from constraint ; " and then, as she saw them suc-
cessively obey, she beckoned to her side the venerable
Comte de St. Vallier, whom she affected to address in
a loud voice.

" M. de Poitiers," she said, " you are strangely
churlish for a courtier. You know how long we have
all been anxious to welcome your fair daughter,
Madame la Grande Seneschale, to Amboise, and yet
you do not summon her from her retreat in Normandy.
How is this ? "

" Diana is young and beautiful, Madame, while M.

Francis I 151

de Breze is very old, very ugly, and but newly mar-
ried.

" An admirable reason," laughed the Duchess as
she shook back her streaming hair, and reined in her
impatient palfrey, " while his sovereign is very young,
very handsome, and — am I right, M. le Comte ? "

St. Vallier bowed in silence.

" A truce, however, to this idle discourse," said
Madame d'Alencon suddenly, after a rapid glance
about her. " You are ill at ease, M. de Poitiers."

" I, Madame ! " exclaimed the Count anxiously ;
" why should I be so ? How could I be so in your
presence ? "

" Disentangle the bridle of my horse," said Mar-
guerite de Valois, and as St. Vallier bent forward to
obey, she murmured in his ear : " You are the old
and tried friend of M. de Bourbon."

" He has few older, Madame, and none more sin-
cere."

" You are also in his confidence "

" Such an admission at such a moment might be
perilous, Madame."

" Not when made to me," persisted the Duchess ;
" you are aware that I also have a great regard for the
Connetable ; and I confess to you that I am anxious
on his account. And yet, even angered as he may be
by recent events, I will not believe that the suspicion
which now attaches to him can be justified. Bourbon
is so great even in his failings, that although he may
be quick to resent an injury, I am convinced that he
would nevertheless be slow to revenge it."

" The Duke is as just as he is generous, Madame,"
stammered St. Vallier, at a loss how to reply.

152 Reign of

" Oh, yes ; he is incapable of treason ; I know it, I

feel it," exclaimed Marguerite enthusiastically.

" But whom have we here ? "

The person who had attracted the attention of the
Princess was a courier, who was scouring across the
plain at the utmost speed of his horse, and approach-
ing the royal party. As he halted he delivered into the
hands of Bonnivet a sealed packet which was imme-
diately given to the King. The first emotion of Fran-
cis was one of impatience at this new intrusion upon his
pleasures ; but as he read the contents of the paper, a
frown gathered on his brow, and his lip blenched. He
bent forward at its conclusion, and said a few words
in a low tone to Bonnivet, who immediately wheeled
his horse to the side of St. Vallier, and said audibly,
" Sir, deliver up your sword ; I claim it in the name of
the King."

For a moment Jean de Poitiers hesitated, but in-
stantly recovering himself, he withdrew his hat with
one hand, and with the other presented the weapon,
without uttering a syllable.

" Brother, I beseech you, what means this ? " asked
the Duchess, who had suddenly become pale as death.

" Treason, Madame," said Francis coldly, as he
again moved forward, while Bonnivet, with an escort
of armed men, in the midst of whom he placed his
prisoner, retraced his steps to Chambord.

Before the return of the hunting party the captain
of the King's archers had been conveyed to the dun-
geons of Loches.

The despatch thus inopportunely received had been
forwarded by the Marechal de Lautrec, who had ob-

Francis I 153

tained proofs of the intended treachery of Bourbon,
and the complicity of St. Vallier, and who had hastened
to apprise the King of the circumstance. The indig-
nation of Francis was extreme ; and as he pursued his
way, he expatiated bitterly to M. de Savoie, the Mar-
quis de Chabannes, the Due de Guise, and M. de Mont-
morenci, who rode beside him, upon the deception
which had been practised on him by the Duke. " My
frankness and plain dealing," he said, angrily, " should
have produced more effect; but since he has seen fit
to turn traitor, he must abide his fate."

An expedition was immediately despatched against
the attainted Duke, under the command of M. de
Savoie and Chabannes ; but he had, meanwhile, en-
trusted to the Bishop d'Autun a letter to the King, in
which he offered to return to his allegiance, on condi-
tion that all his forfeited estates should be restored to
him, and that none of his friends should suffer for their
adherence to his interests. This appeal was, in fact,
an open avowal of his contemplated rebellion ; and the
King's troops, having encountered the prelate near
Lyons, at once seized his person, and forwarded all
his papers to Francis ; whose utmost indignation was
excited no less by the contents than by the tone of the
letter, in which Bourbon proposed terms to him rather
with the authority of an equal than the deference of a
subject.

Information was, however, conveyed to Chantelle by
one of Bourbon's agents, of the approach of the royal
troops ; when the Duke saw that he had not a moment
to lose unless he would incur the risk of being besieged
in his fortress, a hazard of which the result was scarcely

154 Reign of

doubtful ; and he, consequently, took instant measures
to effect his retreat. Assuming the livery of M. de
Pomperant, and acting as his valet, he left Chantelle
without any other attendant, while Montagnac Tau-
zannes, another of his devoted adherents, put on his
own dress, and, mounting his favourite hackney, pur-
sued a contrary route, with three or four followers, in
order to deceive the emissaries of the King. Having
thus ridden throughout the night without a suspicion
on the part of those by whom he was accompanied,
that they were not actually escorting their master,
Tauzannes found himself compelled, when the day
dawned, to dismiss them, after having explained his
purpose, and thanked them for the sympathy which
they expressed for the misfortunes of their chief ; and
while silently and sorrowfully they retraced their steps,
he pursued his way alone, and proceeded by by-roads
to the Bourbonnais, where he concealed himself,
shaved off his hair and his beard, and, disguising him-
self as a priest, once more set forth to join the fugitive
Connetable.

The determination of the Duke and his companion
was, if possible, to gain Franche Comte ; and as it was
necessary to adopt every available method of baffling
their pursuers, they caused the shoes of their horses
to be reversed, and made their way directly towards
the frontier. After innumerable dangers, and more
than one narrow escape from detection, they reached
Auvergne, and thence proceeded by Le Forez and
Dauphiny to Savoy, intending to take the post at
Chambery for Italy. This plan proved, however, im-
practicable, the troops under the Comte de St. Pol

Francis I 155

having crossed the Alps, and occupying the passes ;
and they were consequently compelled to retrace their
steps, and to take refuge at St. Claude, where they
were joined by about sixty gentlemen devoted to the
interests of the Connetable, who had, like himself, suc-
ceeded in making their escape. With their assistance
he was enabled to raise a small body of horsemen ; and
thus accompanied, he effected his retreat two months
subsequently through Germany to Mantua, where he
took up his abode with the Marquis, who was his kins-
man.

Many of his adherents had been less fortunate. Jean
de Poitiers was still a prisoner at Loches, and the
Bishop of Autun at Lyons, and Aymard de Prie, Fran-
cois Descars, Seigneur de la Vauguyon, who had mar-
ried Isabelle de Bourbon-Carency, a relative of the
Duke ; Bertrand Brion, Pierre de Popillon, Chancellor
of the Bourbonnais ; the Comte de St. Bonnet, Gilbert
de Baudemanche, and the Bishop of Puy, were ar-
rested, and put upon their trials as traitors.

This formidable conspiracy created a consternation
throughout the whole kingdom, which was height-
ened by an invasion on the frontiers of Picardy and
Champagne, and the advance of the English and Flem-
ish armies to within eleven leagues of Paris. The Due
de Vendome, who, despite his relationship with the
Connetable, had nevertheless continued faithful to the
King, and the Marquis de la Tremouille with whom
he acted in concert, succeeded, however, in beating
back the imperialists ; but Francis, finding himself
surrounded by peril at home, was reluctantly compelled
to abandon for a time his intention of passing into

156 Reign of

Italy, and was induced to confide the command of that
army to Bonnivet.

The next measure of the King was the confiscation
of the whole of the estates of the attainted Duke, whose
adherents were brought to trial before commissioners
specially delegated for that purpose ; but as their dis-
closures involved many other individuals, and the af-
fair became every day more complicated, it was ulti-
mately referred to the Parliament of Paris. It soon
became apparent that the judges placed no faith in the
reality of the plot as it had been originally represented
to them, but regarded Bourbon as the victim of the
Duchess-mother, and were inclined to screen the
criminals from this conviction ; in which they were
strengthened by the idle exaggerations of Brian
Chabot, who had been sent to the capital by the King
immediately after the flight of the Connetable, with
intelligence of the conspiracy; and who, not satisfied
with detailing plain facts, declared that proof had been
obtained that its object had been to deliver up Francis
to the King of England, to " make mince-meat " of
the children of France, to imprison the Duchesse
d'Angouleme, and to exterminate every branch of the
reigning family. The common sense of the Parliament
revolted at so improbable a tale ; they were aware that
Bourbon had many wrongs to avenge, but they re-
membered that he was a brave man, and not an assas-
sin ; and thus the ill-judged eloquence of the favourite
made them suspicious, and it was with a decided bias in
favour of the accused that they proceeded to the trial.

The Bishop of Puy was unhesitatingly acquitted ;
for it was shown that although he, as well as the Bishop

Francis I 157

of Autun, was attached to the household of the Duke,
they were inveterate enemies, who never could have
been induced to act in common, and that their jeal-
ousies and quarrels had occasionally called for the in-
terference of Bourbon himself. Gilbert de Baude-
manche, who was accused of having raised troops in
the name of the Connetable, brought witnesses to
prove that the said troops had been levied for the
service of the King. St. Bonnet was also released
after a brief examination, during which nothing tended
to implicate him ; to others were awarded an imprison-
ment of longer or shorter duration ; nineteen, who had
effected their escape, were condemned to death for
contumacy; and the only rigorous sentences pro-
nounced against any of the accused, were those upon
the Comte de St. Vallier, and M. de Vauguyon; the
first of whom was found guilty of lese-majeste, and con-
demned to degradation, torture, and ultimately death
upon the scaffold ; and the latter to the application of
" the question ; " upon the presumption that being
allied to the Duke, he must be better informed upon the
subject and extent of the conspiracy than his associates.
His vehement entreaty, however, that he might lose
his head at once, and be spared the agony of under-
going sufferings which, from his utter ignorance of the
whole affair, could lead to no result, induced his judges
to grant such a delay as enabled his family to inter-
cede in his behalf; and he was ultimately banished to
Orleans for two years, and then obtained a free pardon.
The Bishop of Autun was also imprisoned for a time,
and after the death of Bourbon reinstated not only in
the King's grace, but also in his possessions ; and thus

158 Reign of

the venerable Jean de Poitiers, who, of all his friends,
had laboured the most assiduously to dissuade the
Duke from his rebellion, was the only one of his ad-
herents who was left for execution.

It is asserted that Francis either was, or affected to
be, highly displeased at the leniency of the judges
toward a crime which not only involved the safety of
the country, but even the liberty of the sovereign ; de-
claring that every one of the conspirators richly de-
served death, and that he was at a loss to imagine upon
what pretext their impunity could be justified. He
moreover appointed new commissioners, and once
more the whole of the suspected persons were put upon
their trial. It would appear, however, that this extra-
ordinary pertinacity upon his part merely served to
strengthen the original impression that the hatred of
Madame d'Angouleme against the Connetable was the
real motive of such severity; and, accordingly, the
verdict of the second court only tended to ratify that of
its predecessor ; an obstinacy on the part of the Parli-
ment which drew forth a threatening letter from the
King; in which he asserted that since they were de-
termined to persist in their error, and to prefer their
own pleasure to the duty which they owed alike to
himself and to the nation, he would take such steps as
should render them an example to others.

In all probability, however, he became convinced
that by this display of temper he had been led into a
great and dangerous error ; it is at least certain that the
letter had no results.

We have already stated that the daughter of St.
Vallier had, in her thirteenth year, been given in mar-

Francis I 159

riage to Louis de Breze, Comte de Maulvrier, Grand
Seneschal of Normandy. The marriage took place in
the year 15 14, when the bridegroom had already at-
tained the age of fifty-five, and bore about him many
honourable scars, which, however they might tend to
enhance his glory as a soldier, were by no means calcu-
lated to increase his personal attractions in the eyes
of a young and beautiful woman. Unfortunately,
moreover, Louis de Breze was perfectly aware of the
discrepancies which existed between himself and his
bride ; but, enslaved by her extraordinary attractions,
he had wilfully closed his eyes against the excess of
his imprudence, until the fearful jealousy of which he
became the victim so soon as he had made Diana his
wife, exposed to him the whole extent of his error.

Nor was the home to which he conveyed the new-
made Countess more consistent with her age and
habits than its master. The gloomy castle of Anet,
(pompously designated the palace of the Kings of
Navarre, because the domain had originally formed a
portion of the territories appertaining to those sov-
ereigns,) admirably as it was situated in a fertile valley,
watered by the rival rivers of the Eure and the Vesgre,
and backed by the magnificent forest of Dreux, was
in itself dark, melancholy, and isolated. It consisted
of a heavy square mass of masonry, pierced on each of
its sides by two rows of lancet windows, deeply sunk
in the stone-work ; and was flanked at either corner by
strong and lofty towers ; the whole of the edifice being
surrounded by a battlemented wall, and encircled by a
moat ; and the only mode of access being through the
medium of a drawbridge, which communicated with a

160 Reign of

single entrance gate, opening upon the court within.
The interior of Anet was consistent with its outward
appearance ; dark oaken panellings, grim time-touched
portraits of departed worthies, long and chill galleries
where the lightest footfall awoke mysterious echoes, —
these were the unattractive features of the bridal-house
of the mere girl whom the Grand Seneschal had won
from her smiling birthplace in Dauphiny.

Diana, who was destined hereafter to play so promi-
nent a part during two successive reigns, was, as we
have said, the daughter of the Comte de St. Vallier, the
representative of one of the most ancient families of
Dauphiny, and of Jeanne de Batarnay ; and was born
on the 3d of September, 1499; while her husband,
Louis de Breze, was the grandson on the mother's side
of Charles VII. and Agnes Sorel; a circumstance
which at that period was considered greatly to enhance
his personal dignity, whatever prejudice might be at-
tached to it in our own times. At the period of her
father's condemnation Diana had consequently passed
her twenty-third year, but she had spent her early life
in an unbroken calm which still invested her with all
the charms of youth and ingenuousness. Looking
upon the Comte de Maulevrier rather with the respect
of a child than the fondness of a wife, she had soon
acustomed herself to the gloomy etiquette by which
she was surrounded ; and knowing nothing of a world
of which she was one day to become the idol, she
passed her time among her maids, her flowers, and her
birds, without one repining thought.

Diana possessed all the graces that attract, and all
the charms which enslave. Nature had endowed her

Francis I 161

alike with beauty and with intellect ; and as she moved
through the sombre saloons of Anet like a spirit of
light, the gloomy Seneschal blessed the day upon
which he had secured such a vision of loveliness to
gladden his monotonous existence.

It may therefore be supposed with what bitter and
self-upbraiding reflections he discovered that his be-
trayal to the King of the treachery of the Due de
Bourbon had involved the life of his father-in-law.
Fain would he have concealed such a secret from
Diana, but her filial affection rendered the attempt im-
possible; and little aware of the firm nature of the
woman who had hitherto made his will her law, he was
astonished to find that, when her first passionate burst
of grief had subsided, so far from abandoning herself
to a vain and idle sorrow, she wiped away her tears,
and declared that his unfortunate revelation must be
immediately repaired, and the life of her father saved.
In vain did De Breze represent to her that he had been
condemned by the Parliament, and that all hope was
consequently over. Diana was not to be convinced.

" Tell me not," she said vehemently, " that there is
no remedy. Do you remember, sir, that should no in-
tercession be made, not only will my father suffer a
painful death, but that disgrace will evermore attach
itself to the name of our family ? He must be saved ? "

Louis de Breze shook his head mournfully.

" You would dissuade me in vain," she persisted ;
" he must, and he shall be saved."

"But how?"

" I will save him."
Vol. II.— ii

1 62 Reign of

" You, Madame ! You are not even known at
court."

" What care I for that ? My misfortunes will at once
enable me to take my fitting place. I will throw my-
self at the feet of the King. He cannot refuse to listen
to a child pleading for the life of her father."

" And meanwhile, Diana," cried the Seneschal in a
voice of agony, " what will become of me? "

" You must pray, sir : pray that the miserable effects
of your mistaken loyalty may be counteracted; pray
that the efforts of your wretched wife may be crowned
with success. I will not delay a day — not an hour.
A head may fall in an instant."

Louis de Breze was overcome by the energy which
she displayed. Hitherto she had been gentle and com-
pliant, but he suddenly found himself overawed by the
power of her will, as by something new and strange ;
and although gloomy forebodings, to which he dared
not lend a definite form, arose before him, he suffered
her to hasten the preparations for her departure with-
out one effort to impede her purpose.

When the moment came, however, in which she was
to leave Anet, the young wife found to her astonish-
ment that she was to set forth alone upon her melan-
choly mission. " I cannot meet your father," was the
only reason which the Count would assign for this
singular supineness. " Be speedy in your return,
Diana, for you know that the better part of my exist-
ence goes with you."

No time was lost upon the road ; yet when Madame
de Breze reached the city, the scaffold was already
erected upon which her father was to suffer. Un-

.■■•:■ ... r<-.

Francis I 163

aware, however, of this ghastly fact, she at once sought
an audience of the King, who was informed, while sur-
rounded by a bevy of his nobles, among whom he was
endeavouring to forget the impending tragedy, that a
lady solicited permission to enter his presence.

" Who is she? " he inquired with some curiosity of
the usher on duty ; " whence does she come ? "

" It is the Grande Seneschale of Normandy, Sire ;
and she has come post from Anet."

" Ah, on the faith of a gentleman ! " exclaimed Fran-
cis ; " she has chosen an unhappy moment to present
herself at court. This is the far-famed beauty, Diane
de Poitiers, my lords, of whom we have all heard so
much, and whom none of us have seen, as I believe,
since her childhood. She has come on a woful errand
truly, for it is easy to guess the purport of her visit.
Admit her instantly."

" The lady is anxious to be permitted to see Your
Majesty alone," said the usher respectfully.

The monarch glanced rapidly about him with a
slight inclination of the head, and in a moment the
apartment was cleared ; while as the retreating steps
of the courtiers were heard in the gallery, a lateral door
fell back, and, closely veiled, and enveloped in a heavy
mantle, Diana rushed into the saloon, and threw her-
self at the feet of the King, screaming breathlessly,
" Mercy ! mercy ! "

" Rise, madame," said Francis, as the suppliant
would have clasped his knees : " remember that you
are the wife of a loyal subject, and that your father is
very guilty."

" He is old, Sirej, he has grown old in the service of

u*

164 Reign of

his sovereign ; " and as she spoke she raised her droop-
ing head, from which the hood fell back, thus revealing
all the beauty of her pale and agonized countenance.
" You will not, you cannot allow the memory of a long
life of fidelity to be obliterated by one fault. Oh! if
you knew how strenuously he exhorted M. de Bourbon
not to persist in his error ; if you could have seen the
brave old man, tortured by premature remorse for his
off-falling from his King, and yet shrinking from the
accusation that he could abandon his nearest and dear-
est friend at the moment of peril, you, Sire, you, who
know so well how to appreciate all that is great and
noble, you would have held him absolved."

" You are an eloquent advocate, madame."

" I am not only pleading for my father, Sire, but for
myself ; for my own honour, and for the peace of mind
of my husband ; for surely you cannot have forgotten
that the Grand Seneschal, by revealing the designs of
the Connetable, involved the safety of him for whom
I sue, and that, should he perish, M. De Breze will
have been his murderer ! "

" I pity you, madame, from my very heart," said
Francis, as he lifted her from the ground, and placed
her upon a seat.

" Do more, Sire," exclaimed Diana, rising and
standing erect, her beautiful figure relieved by the
sombre drapery which she had flung aside in the effort.
" You are a great and powerful sovereign. Do more.
Forget that Jean de Poitiers was the friend of Charles
de Bourbon, and remember only that he was the zeal-
ous and loyal subject of Francis I. The most noble,
the most holy of all royal prerogatives, is mercy."

Francis I 165

" Madame "

" Ah, you relent ! My father is saved ! " exclaimed
the Grande Seneschale ; " I knew it — I felt it — you
could not see those venerable gray hairs soiled by the
hands of the executioner."

What more passed during this memorable interview
is not even matter of history. The writers of the time
put different interpretations upon the clemency of the
King. Suffice it that the Comte de St. Vallier was re-
prieved upon the very scaffold ; and that Madame de
Breze remained at court, where she became the inspir-
ing spirit of the muse of Clement Marot, who has suc-
ceeded by the various poems which he wrote in her
honour, and of which the sense is far from equivocal,
in creating a suspicion that she was not long ere she
became reconciled not only to the manners, but also
to the vices of the licentious court, in which thereafter
she made herself so unfortunately conspicuous. Some
historians acquit her of having paid by the forfeiture of
her innocence for the life of her father, from the fact
that in the patent by which his sentence was remitted,
no mention is made of her personal intercession, and
that his pardon was attributed to that of the Grand
Seneschal himself, and others of his relatives and
friends ; but it appears scarcely probable that Francis
would, under any circumstances, have been guilty of
the indelicacy of involving her name in public disgrace,
aware, as he necessarily must have been, of the sus-
picion which was attached to every young and beauti-
ful woman to whom he accorded any marked favour
or protection.

Had her after-life, moreover, been pure and exem-

1 66 Francis I

plary, and had she, after obtaining the pardon of her
father, withdrawn once more into retirement, posterity
would have been at no loss to form a correct and
worthy judgment of her conduct ; but the vain and
willing idol of a depraved poet, and the voluntary
seductress of a Prince who' had scarcely reached half
her own age, must be content to leave her memory at
least clouded by doubt and darkened by suspicion.

Diane de Poitiers, pleading at the feet of the King
for the life of a parent, succeeding in her sublime mis-
sion, and subsequently dedicating her youth to the
solace of that parent's sufferings, would have ranked
among the noblest examples of female virtue and hero-
ism ; but Diane de Poitiers, the frivolous votary of
courtly pleasures, and the mature mistress of a boy-
prince, excites only disgust, distrust, and contempt ;
and as we trace her downward course, step by step, we
scarcely care to ascertain by whom she was first led
into the path of evil.

CHAPTER VII.

Mortifications of Bourbon — Francis Endeavours to Restore
Him to His Allegiance — Bourbon Rejects His Overtures —
His Estates are Sequestrated — Bad Faith of Charles V.—
Jealousy of the Imperialist Generals— France Attacked on
all Sides — The Due de Vendome Recalled for the Defence
of Paris — Brion Chabot Despatched to the Capital to Re-
assure the Citizens — A Second Gasconnade — The Retort
Courteous — The English Troops Withdraw from France —
Discontent of the Nation at the Appointment of Bonnivet
— Contrast between Bourbon and Bonnivet as Generals —
Gallant Defence of Cremona by M. d'Herbouville — Death
of the Pope — Pescara Driven Back to Milan — Bonnivet
Blockades the City — Able Defence of Colonna — Bayard
Detached to Vigevano — Bonnivet Raises the Siege — Death
of Colonna — De Lannoy and Pescara Enter Milan — Ac-
cession of Clement VII. — Bonnivet Besieges Arona, but is
Repulsed — Bayard Defends Rebec — Is Attacked by Pescara,
and Compelled to Fly — Indignation of Bayard against Bonni-
vet— Bourbon Declines to Come to an Engagement with Bon-
nivet— Retreat of the French Army — Bonnivet is Wounded
— Bayard and Vandenesse Assume the Command of the
Troops — Vandenesse and Bayard Mortally Wounded — The
Last Moments of the Good Knight — Grief of the Soldiery
— Homage to Heroism — A Dying Rebuke — Death of
Bayard — His Funeral Cortege — Regretful Exclamation of
Francis — A Soldier's Monument.
167

1 68 Reign of

WHILE the friends of Bourbon were thus suffer-
ing the penalties of their adherence to his cause,
the Duke himself was scarcely more fortunate. He
had already experienced with bitterness of feeling, that
he was* no longer the powerful noble before whom all
save royalty bowed down ; the idol of the devoted sol-
diery, and the object of universal popularity. Noth-
ing was left to him but his great name, and the weapon
which he had never yet wielded, save in the cause of
his country, but which was now to be unsheathed
against her ; and it is probable that the very excess of
his despair rendered him desperate ; for Francis, urged,
as it is asserted, by his mother, who discovered too late
the fatal mistake of which she had been the author, was
induced at this period to make a last effort to restore
him to his allegiance ; and for this purpose commis-
sioned a gentleman of his household to offer to him a
free pardon, and the restitution of all his estates and
pensions, if he would forthwith acknowledge his error,
and return to France.

When he received the royal envoy, Bourbon was
surrounded by such of his adherents as had succeeded
in effecting their escape ; and as he glanced about him,
and remembered that for his sake they had been pro-
scribed and condemned, all his original indignation
was aroused.

" It is too late, sir," he said haughtily ; " the King
your master had probably forgotten that others have
been involved in my misfortune. Do you bring me
an assurance of equal impunity for all my gallant
friends?"

" I am authorized simply to treat with yourself, my
Lord Duke," was the reply.

Francis I 169

" In that case our interview need not be prolonged,"
said Bourbon ; " neither do they nor I ask for any
favour at the hands of Francis of France. I will not
detain you from more urgent duties."

" You are resolved, Monseigneur ? "

" You have my answer, sir."

" I am then compelled to complete my mission, M.
de Bourbon, by demanding, in the name of my sov-
ereign, the sword which you bore as Connetable of
France, and the collar of St. Michael with which you
were invested."

The Duke smiled bitterly. " That sword," he said ;
" I cannot deliver to you. It was taken from me at
the passage of the Scheldt, and transferred to the
brother-in-law of the King ; at his hands therefore you
must seek it. The collar of St. Michael must be al-
ready in the possession of the sovereign, since I learn
that Chantelle has been garrisoned by his troops, and
the property found there confiscated to his use. I left
it suspended at the head of my bed, and doubtlessly it
was found there."

" And this, Monseigneur, is your final answer?"

The Connetable bowed in silence, and the royal
envoy withdrew.

The total sequestration of Bourbon's estates to the
crown followed swiftly upon this ill-omened interview ;
he was declared guilty of lese-majeste, and degraded
from all his offices and dignities ; thus becoming a pro-
scribed and penniless outlaw; while he was made
conscious, by the coldness of his new master, of the
change which had been effected by this reverse of
fortune upon the selfish monarch through whose in-
sidious counsel he had been betrayed.

170 Reign of

Charles had believed that by securing Bourbon he
should induce a great portion of France to rise against
its sovereign, but no such result ensued ; and mortified
by the disappointment, he forgot the value of the indi-
vidual in his annoyance at the failure of his hopes.
Instead of reiterating the promise which he had made
of conferring the hand of his sister upon the Duke, and
of assisting him to regain his sequestered estates, he
even suffered a considerable time to elapse before he
replied to his applications for employment ; and when
he at length found it expedient to do so, he contented
himself by leaving it at his discretion either to return
to Spain, or to assume the command of the imperial
army in Italy as lieutenant-general; while situated as
he was at the moment, Bourbon was fain to accept the
latter alternative.

The defection of the Connetable had meanwhile
paralysed the strength of the French army. Sus-
picions arose among the soldiery that the evil would
not end where it had begun. A rallying point was
lost ; and there was no longer that unity among the
troops which had tended to render them so formidable
to their enemies. Nevertheless, by a singular coinci-
dence, the same absence of a settled, or rather simul-
taneous purpose, proved the salvation of France; for
had the several attacks which the King was called upon
to repel, been directed at one and the same moment
against him, there can be little doubt that he must
have sunk under so unequal a conflict. Such, how-
ever, was far from being the case; the jealousy that
existed between the rival generals, and especially that
which Pescara bore to Bourbon, rendered all sincere

Francis I 171

co-operation impossible ; and thus Spain, Germany,
and England acted independently, and by this de-
fective policy afforded breathing-time to Francis. The
Germans were repulsed from Franche-Comte by the
Due de Guise ; Lautrec defended Bayonne against the
Spaniards during four days, and compelled them to
raise the siege, when they fell back upon Fontarabia,
which, as we have elsewhere stated, was delivered to
them by Captain Franget ; a success which did not,
however, encourage them to pursue their advantage.

The progress of the English army we have already
recorded; and the alarm excited by the approach to
the capital was so great that it overcame the mistrust
of Francis towards the Due de Vendome, whom as a
kinsman of the Connetable, he had hitherto feared to
invest with an authority which might enable him to
assist the fugitive in his supposed designs against Paris.
The Duke of Norfolk at the head of fifteen thousand
men, had been joined at Calais by the Comte de Beau-
rein ; and their combined strength amounted to be-
tween six and seven thousand horse, a strong body of
artillery, and nearly thirty thousand foot; while La
Tremouille, who was called upon to oppose them,
could scarcely muster a sufficient force to garrison his
fortresses. The month of September had, however,
commenced ; and he calculated upon the rainy season
which was rapidly approaching, the difficulty which
the invading armies must necessarily experience in
victualling their troops, and above all on the well-tried
valour of his superior officers. Nevertheless, his torce
was so insufficient for such an emergency, that, accord-
ing to Du Bellay, he was compelled whenever the

172 Reign of

enemy withdrew from before a fortified place to re-
move the garrison into another which was liable to
attack.

Under these circumstances Francis recalled the Due
de Vendome from his government of Champagne to
the defence of Paris, at the head of four hundred men-
at-arms ; and at the same time despatched Brion
Chabot to assure the citizens that assistance was at
hand. The embassy was precisely one which flat-
tered the vanity of the young Count, who, strong in
his consciousness of the royal favour, although natu-
rally brave, was arrogant, thoughtless, and self-suffi-
cient; and he had no sooner called a meeting than
omitting altogether to mention the immediate arrival
of Vendome with his troops, he made a flowery
harangue, in which he bade the inhabitants of the
metropolis divest themselves of all uneasiness, as the
King had taken every precaution to insure the safety
of the city, and had sent him to defend it.

Baillet, a shrewd and practical man, who was second
president of the Parliament, when the young courtier,
flushed with his own eloquence paused for a reply,
calmly rose, and glancing about him with a look of
grave irony, answered by assuring the royal envoy
that he was welcome to the capital as the messenger
of their sovereign lord the King, and that there could
be little doubt that, should need be, he would demean
himself in a manner worthy of his mission ; but that,
nevertheless, none of his co-citizens could have for-
gotten that when Louis XI. was anxious to convince
his good city of Paris that the invasion of Charles of
Burgundy should not affect their safety, he had not

Francis I 173

sent a solitary courtier by post, but a French marshal
with four hundred armed men ; a better security than
himself, whatever might be his personal qualities, or
his court favour, for the preservation of a metropolis ;
and that, consequently, he felt it incumbent on him to
congratulate his fellow-townsmen upon the fact that
M. de Vendome, with a body of troops, was already on
the road to reinforce M. de Brian Chabot.

This intelligence soon reached the enemy's camp
also ; and the English Duke, apprehensive that he
might be enclosed between the armies of Tremouille
and Vendome, determined on retiring to Calais, the
Germans and Flemings having already insisted upon a
retreat. He accordingly withdrew by Nesle, Ham,
and Bohain, and ultimately sailed for England in the
month of December, with a mere skeleton of the fine
army which he had led into France, having effected
nothing.

We have already stated that the conspiracy of Bour-
bon had induced Francis to forego his intention of
heading his troops in the Milanese, and that he had
temporarily confided the command to Bonnivet ; who,
rash, inconsiderate, and comparatively inexperienced,
had only his reckless courage to recommend him. This
ill-fated selection had been made at the suggestion of
Madame d'Angouleme, and was intended as the last
indignity which she could show to Bourbon ; who,
considering the favourite as his vassal, would neces-
sarily feel himself outraged by such an arrangement,
when France could have opposed him by a Vendome,
a Chabannes, or a Montmorenci.

Its effect was, however, to the full as unfavourable

174 Reign of

upon the nation at large ; the French people, and above
all, the French army, had no confidence in the light-
hearted and libertine favourite of the Duchess-
mother ; and public opinion seldom errs. His agency
had been traced throughout the disgrace of the Con-
netable, not only the first noble, but also the first sol-
dier of France ; and while a hope was entertained that
the Duke, after the bitter paroxysm of his indignation
had passed over, might still become reconciled to his
sovereign, the more wary of those who watched the
progress of events felt a melancholy conviction that
should it be otherwise, and Bourbon be indeed induced
to bear arms against his country, the contest would be
fearfully unequal. Bonnivet had merely the uncalcu-
lating courage of a soldier, while Bourbon possessed
the tried prudence of a commander ; the spoiled favour-
ite was presumptuous, disdaining all advice from those
about him, whatever might be the amount of their
experience; while the attainted Duke sought, on the
contrary, for counsel, calculated every chance, was an
adept in the whole science of warfare, and was ever
ready to profit by any oversight on the part of his
adversary. But Bourbon, proscribed and despoiled,
now possessed only his proud name and his good
sword ; while Bonnivet, at the very moment when his
sovereign contented himself by sending a Prince of
the blood at the head of four hundred men to protect
the capital of his Kingdom, found himself invested with
the command of sixteen hundred lances, the flower
of the French cavalry, six thousand Swiss, two thou-
sand troops from the Valais, as many from the Grisons,
six thousand lansquenets, three thousand Italians, and
twelve thousand French volunteers.

Francis I 175

The moment of the invasion was, however, an un-
propitious one for France. The solitary fortress which
she still possessed, that of Cremona, was garrisoned
only by eight brave men, the remnant of a garrison of
forty, to whom, under the command of M. d'Herbou-
ville, it had been entrusted eighteen months previously ;
and who, although they continued to hold the place,
had long despaired of help, and been cut off from all
communication with their countrymen ; while the Pope
had joined the confederation, believing that he should
thus insure the peace of Italy, and had confided the
command of his troops to the Duke of Mantua, who
was as anxious as himself to avoid a collision with the
enemy.

The sudden death of the pontiff, moreover, which
took place on the 14th of September, the very day
upon which the campaign commenced, rendered the
Papal general still more averse to an encounter with
the French forces upon his own responsibility; the
confederated army was still scattered; while Prosper
Colonna, the general-in-chief, who was entrusted with
the defence of the Milanese, was a confirmed invalid,
and was, moreover, trammelled for want of means to
pay his troops. Charles de Launoy, Viceroy of
Naples, who in the event of his demise was to succeed
to his command, had halted in the south of Italy, in
order not to arouse any suspicion of his purpose ; and
Pescara, whose jealous animosity towards him no per-
sonal success of his own had been able to appease, had
left the army for Valladolid, where the Emperor was
then residing, in order to pour out all his complaints
against his rival. Nevertheless, despite extreme old

176 Reign of

age, bodily suffering, and mental anxiety, Colonna
was still true to his reputation ; and contrived to harass
the enemy, and to impede their progress by all practic-
able means. As they advanced, although unable to
mount his horse, he caused himself to be conveyed in
a litter to the bank of the Ticino, opposite Vigevano,
in order to dispute their passage; but on his arrival
there he found that the extreme drought which had
prevailed throughout the summer had so decreased the
volume of water that the river could be forded from
every point; and he was consequently compelled to
make a rapid retreat to Milan.

Had Bonnivet pursued his advantage on the instant,
there can be little doubt that he might have become
master of the city ; for thirty years of intermittent war-
fare had impoverished the citizens, and the walls of
the town were still in ruins ; while, as we have already
stated, the confederated army was dispersed over a
large extent of territory. By the forced march of one
day the French general might have reached the city ;
but anxious to convince those who had hitherto ac-
cused him of rashness, that he could exert a prudence
equal to their own, he lingered for three days on the
shores of the Ticino ; and thus gave the imperialist gen-
eral time to repair his fortifications, and to strengthen
his garrison.

Bonnivet was accordingly compelled to have re-
course to a blockade ; and to attempt, by turning the
water-courses, and breaking up the roads which led
to the city, to reduce the fortress by famine ; a strata-
gem which he followed up by taking Monza, Lodi, and
Cremona, the latter town having been in the possession

Francis I 177

of the Due d'Urbino while the French held the citadel ;
thus cutting off the supplies, and exposing the be-
leaguered city to all the horrors of want. By diverting
the canals from their course, and destroying the water-
mills in the neighbourhood, the French general had
taken the most efficient steps to starve out the garri-
son ; but for a time the want of the former was sup-
plied by the springs within the walls, and that of the
latter by windmills which Colonna speedily caused to
be constructed ; and meanwhile the French troops suf-
fered little less in their own camp, the overflowing of
the canals, which broke over their dams and flooded
the low grounds about them, and the scarcity of forage
for the horses and cattle, rendering it necessary that
they should be perpetually on the alert ; a circumstance
of which Colonna took advantage, by means of skirm-
ishing parties, to harass and fatigue the troops day and
night.

So unremitting, indeed, were his attacks — for he had
succeeded in collecting within the walls of Milan no
less a force than sixteen hundred horse and fourteen
thousand foot — that Bonnivet became apprehensive
lest he should, in conjunction with Antonio du Leyva,
who held Pavia, take possession of a bridge which he
had caused to be constructed at Vigevano, for the con-
venience of conveying provisions into his camp, and
thus starve him in his turn ; and he accordingly desired
Bayard and the Sieur de Rence, who were then holding
Monza, to take up their quarters in the village of Vige-
vano, in order to defend the bridge ; a fatal error, of
which he was soon destined to appreciate the extent,
as Colonna by recapturing the city of Monza was at
Vol. II— 12

178 Reign of

once enabled to secure an abundance of all the neces-
saries of life, and to recruit the failing strength of his
garrison.

Under these circumstances Bonnivet soon wearied
of a warfare which, perilous and fatiguing as it was,
conduced to no result; and which was rendered ten-
fold more trying to his troops from the extreme rigour
of the weather, and the perpetual and severe snow
storms which for the last four months had almost
choked up his camp. He consequently proposed a
truce, which however was declined by Colonna; and
thus he found himself obliged, on the 27th of Novem-
ber, to strike his tents under the very eyes of the enemy.
He nevertheless succeeded in effecting his retreat in
good order ; and in condensing his troops on an island
between the Ticinello and the Ticino, near Biagrasso
and Rosat, where he took up his winter quarters, and
disbanded a portion of his infantry, which he proposed
to replace in the spring by a new levy in Switzerland.

On the 30th of December the brave Colonna
breathed his last in Milan, full of years and honour.
Although he had already reached the advanced age
of eighty, and had long been the victim of a painful and
hopeless disease, he had never suffered his spirit to be
quenched by the sufferings of his body ; and although
both Lawnoy and Pescara entered the capital of Lom-
bardy on the very day of his decease, it is questionable
whether either, or both combined, could have replaced
him.

But, unfortunately for France, private animosity and
party feeling had raised up against her a still more
formidable enemy ; and the ashes of the brave Colonna

Francis I 179

were scarcely cold in their sepulchre, ere Charles de
Bourbon, at the head of six thousand lansquenets
whom he had raised in Germany, appeared in the arena.
It is true that the coldness of the Emperor no longer
permitted him to present himself as a Prince about to
combat for his own interests, and to lend his aid in
dismembering the nation, and possessing himself of a
separate and independent kingdom ; but still his name
was a watchword of strength, and his influence over
the troops so unbounded, that the pride of Pescara
revolted at a rivalry which he had believed must have
terminated with the death of Colonna; and nothing
short of their common desire to revenge their real or
imagined wrongs against France could have induced
the two generals to fight under the same banner.

The contest before Milan had not, meanwhile, been
the only one which engaged the attention of Europe ;
the death of Pope Adrian the Sixth having necessi-
tated a new election which convulsed the Vatican with
cabals and intrigue. The English Ambassadors in
Rome had been busy in forwarding the interests of
Wolsey, who had also applied to the Emperor for his
support, and looked with confidence to the result. But
Charles, even while he pledged himself to the Cardinal
to uphold his pretensions, had private reasons for de-
siring his failure ; and exerted himself so strenuously
to secure it, that his name was no sooner mentioned in
the conclave than it was unanimously rejected ; and
after six weeks of agitation and intrigue between the
powerful factions of the Cardinals of Medicis and Co-
lonna, the election of the former was secured, and he
assumed the Popedom under the title of Clement VII.

180 Reign of

Like his predecessor, the new Pontiff secretly favoured
the league, and was desirous for the expulsion of the
French from Italy ; and thus Francis reaped no benefit
from the change which had taken place.

Bonnivet, when once he had secured his winter
quarters, so far from feeling his confidence diminished
by the check which he had experienced under the walls
of Milan, cradled himself in the belief that the arrival
of adequate reinforcements from France, and the pe-
cuniary pressure to which the enemy were exposed,
must tend to his ultimate success so soon as the rigor-
ous season should be terminated ; — but he deceived
himself.

Francis, once more satisfied of the immediate safety
of his kingdom, had no time to spare from his pleasures,
and totally overlooked the precarious circumstances of
the absent general ; while the appearance of Bourbon
with the confederated army tended to condense their
measures, and to increase their activity. Moreover, it
was essential to Bonnivet that he should maintain a
communication with Switzerland and La Valais by
means of Lago Maggiore; and for this purpose he found
himself compelled to detach Rienzo de Ceri, one of the
Orsini family, who was a general of the Italian army,
with a strong force to besiege Arona, a powerful for-
tress which defended the passage between Milan and
the Simplon on the western side of the lake. His com-
mand consisted of seven thousand of his countrymen,
but they were for the most part worn-out veterans,
who had wasted their strength in the intestine wars of
Italian independence, and who were now brought to-
gether under the same banner without a sympathy in

r

i

Francis I 181

common, save that which grew out of the memory that
they had each in their turn been indebted for help to
the arms of France. These disjointed troops, never-
theless, held out gallantly during the space of thirty
days, and harassed the garrison of the place by their
indomitable resolution ; but at the termination of that
period they were driven from their posts with consider-
able loss by Anchiso Visconti, who held the citadel,
and compelled them to raise the siege.

The great anxiety of Bonnivet, when foiled upon
this point, was to prevent the introduction of provi-
sions into Milan ; where he was aware that from the
great strength of the garrison, and the multitude of
peasantry who had taken refuge within the walls, the
consumption must be immense ; and having ascer-
tained that supplies not only of food, but also of money,
were on their way to the city, he resolved to despatch
Bayard to a small village called Rebec for the purpose
of intercepting them on their passage. The good
knight was never backward where hard blows were
to be exchanged, but even he hesitated to undertake
so hazardous an enterprise ; for Rebec was an open
hamlet without walls or defences of any description,
and was situated within rifle-shot of the enemy's camp.

" It is to you, my Lord of Bayard, that I offer this
command," said Bonnivet courteously ; " because it
cannot be in better hands than yours. Take with you
two hundred horse, and the infantry of Lorges ; and we
shall be enabled by these means not only to cut off the
supplies of the city, but also to obtain unerring intelli-
gence of the movements of the imperialists." . v .

Aft* *'*

m

<4>

1 82 Reign of

" Both the one measure and the other are desirable
no doubt," was the calm reply of the good knight, " but
to effect either I should require the aid of at least a
moiety of your whole force. Rebec stands in the midst
of the open fields, we have a vigilant enemy to deal
with, and our standard will require to be well guarded.
Are you prepared to give me the troops I require ? "

" Your prudence is ill-timed," said the arrogant
favourite. " Had I not been assured of the perfect
safety of the expedition, I should not nave devised it.
Even now, not a mouse can stir in Milan but I am
instantly apprised of its movements. If you decline,
however, there are others "

" Had my personal honour alone been involved in
our failure, Monseigneur," broke in Bayard haughtily,
" I should have spared both you and myself so many
words ; but I fight for France, and her glory is dearer
to me than my own. I will, however, since such is
your good pleasure, march to Rebec at dawn."

" Do so," replied Bonnivet, " and within eight-and-
forty hours I will provide you with such a reinforce-
ment as shall form a living citadel in your new govern-
ment."

" I shall look for it, my Lord," said Bayard coldly,
" and will instantly make my preparations."

Accordingly, just as day broke, the good knight,
with a cheerful countenance but a foreboding heart,
left Biagrasso at the head of two hundred horsemen
and two thousand foot soldiers; but so certainly did
he foresee the result of such an improvident enterprise,
that he took with him only a second charger, leaving
his mules and his baggage at Novara. His first care

Francis I 183

on arriving in his new quarters was to defend the vil-
lage in so far as it was susceptible of defence ; but when
he had ridden through the straggling and unprotected
streets and lanes of which it was composed, he found
that he could effect nothing beyond erecting barri-
cades at the entrance of the several thoroughfares ; and
perceiving that in the event of an attack it would be
utterly impossible for him to hold out longer than a
few hours, he despatched an urgent letter to Bonnivet,
describing the extreme peril of his situation, and en-
treating him not to lose a moment in forwarding the
promised reinforcements. But when messenger had
succeeded messenger to the main camp, and no answer
was returned, Bayard became convinced that he must
rely entirely upon his own little band; and a bitter
conviction grew upon him that the jeopardy in which
he was thus placed had been premeditated. He had
long been aware of the jealousy borne towards him by
the favourite, by whom the renown of every military
leader in the French armies had invariably been con-
sidered as a personal injustice ; although in the frank-
ness of his nature he had never suffered himself to
suspect that he would be guilty of leading one of his
sovereign's officers into an ambush so hopeless as that
in which he now found himself entrapped ; and he made
a solemn vow that should his life be spared he would
demand satisfaction at the sword's point.

Days and nights passed on during which the good
knight never put off his armour, and even deprived
himself of sleep until fatigue had so seriously under-
mined his health that he could not rise from his bed ;
and thus found himself constrained to delegate his

1 84 Reign of

authority to some of his superior officers. These, how-
ever, having since their arrival seen no cause for alarm,
proved less stringent than himself, and having satisfied
themselves upon their midnight round that all was
silent in the enemy's camp, they retired to their quar-
ters, after enjoining the sentinels to vigilance.

The Marquis de Pescara had, meanwhile, ascertained
with how small a force Bayard had occupied the hamlet,
and resolved to surprise him ; while, in order to pre-
vent any mistake during the darkness, his men were
instructed to wear their shirts over their armour ; and
thus, guided by a couple of peasants who were familiar
with all the outlets of the village, the Spaniards, to the
number of six thousand foot and five hundred horse,
moved noiselessly towards Rebec, where all was so
silent that for a time they suspected the French troops
had retired.

At length, however, they reached the advanced sen-
tinels, who immediately commenced a rapid retreat,
raising an alarm as they fell back upon the barricades ;
while, as the first cry echoed through the streets, the
good knight sprang from his sick-bed, and seizing his
lance, rushed towards the barrier, followed by De
Lorges and half a dozen men-at-arms, when he en-
countered a body of the Emperor's troops, who were
clamorously demanding to be led to his quarters, and
offering a reward to whomsoever would enable them
to take him. With his own hand, enfeebled as he was
by sickness, he overthrew the foremost; upon which
his gallant little band, reassured by his sudden appari-
tion among them, seconded him bravely ; but he had
no sooner ascertained the number of the enemy than

Francis I 185

he became convinced that all opposition was fruitless ;
and beckoning De Lorges to his side he bade him in-
stantly retreat with his infantry to Biagrasso.

" Go," he said rapidly, " save all the lives you can
before the whole body of the imperialists pass the
barrier. All else must be abandoned; do not lose a
moment. I will cover your retreat with my gen-
darmes ; and follow you, should it be God's will."

This order was promptly executed; and while the
Italian troops withdrew by an opposite avenue, the
good knight and his cavalry so resolutely repulsed the
advancing enemy, that they had ultimately time to
wheel their horses in their turn towards the main camp,
having lost only nine men throughout this gallant
defence.

On reaching Biagrasso, Bayard at once proceeded
to the quarters of Bonnivet, whom he upbraided vehe-
mently for his treachery and bad faith ; and the quarrel
proceeded to such a length that a personal combat
must have been inevitable, had not the menacing aspect
of public affairs induced both leaders to defer for a
time the settlement of their private differences.

The imperial army had received a reinforcement of
six thousand lansquenets levied by the Venetian states ;
and Bourbon, who had hitherto been passive, now
occupied Milan, and began to act on the offensive.
Perpetual skirmishes weakened the ranks of Bonnivet
without acquiring for him the slightest advantage ;
sickness had declared itself among his troops; while
the Swiss refused to remain longer partakers of these
perpetual and unprofitable disasters, and, according to
their usual custom, marched out of the city, and re-

1 86 Reign of

turned home. In this extremity, determined to
achieve at least some glory before he abandoned the
enterprise upon which he had entered without a single
misgiving, Bonnivet made use of every stratagem he
could devise for provoking the Due de Bourbon to an
engagement; the haughty Connetable, however, dis-
dained to encounter one of whom he still affected to
speak as his vassal; and while he pertinaciously
harassed his troops by continual sallies, he gave him
no opportunity of meeting his own army in the open
field.

At length intelligence reached the French camp that
six thousand Swiss were marching to their aid by
Sessia, and a like number by Bergamo, upon which
Bonnivet determined to fall back upon Novara; and
he had no sooner accomplished this movement than
Bourbon, in order to prevent the junction which it was
intended to facilitate, marched his main body to a con-
venient spot between Sessia and Novara to oppose the
passage of the first, while Giovanni de' Medici crossed
the Ticino, and by this movement impeded the prog-
ress of the other. In addition to this disaster the
French general had no sooner evacuated Biagrasso,
the only strong fortress which still remained in his
power, than it was besieged and taken by Sforza ; nor
did the evil end there, for it was discovered that the
plague which was raging in the city had extended to
his troops, who were daily dying in great numbers,
while the scarcity of provisions, from which they had
been suffering for several weeks, tended to give added
virulence to the disease.

Thus enclosed between two divisions of the hostile

Francis I 187

army, and disappointed of the anticipated reinforce-
ments, Bonnivet called a council of war, at which it
was decided that, as effectual resistance had now be-
come impossible, a retreat should be attempted. In
accordance with this arrangement, the French troops
left Novara at midnight, and marched upon Romag-
nano, a hamlet situated upon the left bank of the
Sessia ; and before daylight they succeeded in passing
the river, ere they were overtaken by the enemy. Here
they joined their Swiss allies, and then proceeded
towards Ivrea, with the intention of entering France
by Lower Valais. They had now only ten leagues to
march ere they reached a place of safety, and already
the flagging spirits of the harassed soldiery began to
revive. Bonnivet had, moreover, taken the precau-
tion to erect a field-battery upon the river-bank to im-
pede the passage of the enemy, and great confidence
was felt in the sagacity of this arrangement. It proved,
however, ineffectual, as the imperialists discovered a
ford lower down the stream upon which the guns could
not be brought to bear, and they consequently con-
tinued their pursuit without impediment, keeping up a
brisk attack upon the rear of the retreating column.
Bonnivet, who commanded the rear-guard, returned
their fire with considerable effect, and steadily con-
tinued his march; while Bayard at the head of his
gendarmes maintained a skirmishing warfare, which
protected the main body. At length, a musket-ball
broke the sword-arm of the French general, and com-
pelled him to retire from the hazardous position he had
hitherto resolutely held ; upon which he summoned to
his side the good knight and the Comte de Vandenesse,
the brother of La Palice.

1 88 Reign of

" I pray and conjure you," he said to Bayard, " for
the sake of your own honour, and the glory of the
French name, to defend, as you so well know how to
do, the standards which I am now compelled to en-
trust to your tried valour and fidelity. M. de Vande-
nesse will command the artillery, but I leave the troops
in your charge."

" I thank you, my Lord, for the confidence which
you express in my loyalty," replied the good knight;
" had you always done me the same honour heretofore,
both my country and my sovereign might have
profited by my exertions, and my own safety have
been better secured. In any case, however, I shall do
my duty ; and so long as I have life, our standards shall
never fall into the hands of the enemy."

He then assumed the command of the retreating
forces ; and he had scarcely placed himself at the head
of the gendarmes, when a stone from a hacquebouse*
struck the Comte de Vandenesse, and inflicted a mor-
tal wound, of which he died three days afterwards.

As he fell, Bayard turned upon the enemy, and made
so vigorous a charge that he compelled them for a
time to retreat upon their main body ; but as he was
about to rejoin his own force, he was in his turn smit-
ten by a similar missile, which struck him across the
loins, and fractured his spine. As he felt the blow,
he reeled in his saddle, exclaiming, " Jesus, my God, I
am killed ! " He then, with some difficulty, raised to
his lips the hilt of his sword which was in the form of
a cross, kissed it, recommended his soul to God, and

* A weapon similar in construction to a harquebuss, but of much
larger calibre, which launched stones instead of shot.

Francis I 189

fainted. In an instant a dozen hands were out-
stretched to support him ; and while he was led into a
place of safety, he rallied, and besought those about
him to set him with his back against a tree to which
he pointed, and to place him with his face towards the
imperialists.

" I feel," he gasped out, " that I have but a few
moments to live, and I will not, for the first time, turn
my back upon the enemy. Comrades, to the charge !
the Spaniards are advancing. Let me once more see
the gleaming of our lances."

The sobs of his maitre-d'hotel, who was supporting
his head, again recalled him to himself. " Jacques, my
friend," he murmured affectionately, " be comforted.
It is the will of God that I should now leave this world,
in which He has blessed me far beyond my deserts.
His will be done ! "

As no priest was on the field to receive his confes-
sion, he sent to summon the Seigneur d'Alegre, the
Provost of Paris, whom he entreated to act as his
chaplain, and to whom he humbly declared his sins ;
after which, he besought him to bear his last vows of
fidelity to the King his master, and to assure him that
the most bitter pang which he experienced in dying
existed in the consciousness that he could never again
wield a lance in his service.

" And now," he said, glancing round upon the sol-
diers who were thronging about him, regardless of the
peril by which they were momentarily threatened ;
" and now, my friends and comrades, leave me, I en-
treat you ; and do not let me suffer the misery of see-
ing you fall into the hands of your enemies ; your care
can avail me nothing ; — go, and pray for my soul."

190 Reign of

For the first time, however, he was disobeyed. Still
the imperialists advanced, and still the weeping soldiers
stood motionless, gazing upon their expiring idol.
Not another blow was struck by the French ; and as
the enemy came up they heard only one long wail of
grief, coupled with the name of Bayard.

Pescara was in the van of the army, and at once
apprehending the truth, he made his way to the spot
where the good knight was still struggling with the
death agony. As his eye fell upon him, the Spanish
general dropped his sword ; and bending down, he
raised the hand of his erewhile enemy respectfully to
his lips.

" Would to God, my good Lord of Bayard," he said,
" that at the cost of a quart of my own blood, so death
had not ensued, I might have met you in good health,
and as my prisoner, that so I might have proved how
much I honour the exalted prowess that is in you;
knowing as I do that the Emperor my master has never
had a braver or bolder enemy ; and, may God be my
help ! I would rather have given half of all that I am
worth, than that this should have chanced."

As Pescara turned away, the Due de Bourbon ad-
vanced in his turn, and withdrawing his helmet, bent
bare-headed over his old companion in arms. " Alas,
Bayard ! " he said, in an accent of deep emotion ; " how
do I grieve to see you, whom I have always loved and
honoured, expiring before my eyes ! "

" Monseigneur," replied the good knight, making
an effort to subdue the agony under which he writhed ;
" I thank you for your sympathy, but I desire no pity
at your hands ; I die like a true man, in the service of

Francis I 191

my King and my country. Rather save your pity for
yourself, who are bearing arms against your faith, your
sovereign, and your nation."

Bourbon turned away in silence: the iron had en-
tered into his heart.

During this brief interview Pescara had caused a
magnificent marquee to be pitched upon the field, and
the wounded man was conveyed upon the crossed
lances of some of his own followers to a camp-bed
beneath it, beside which he found a priest, to whom he
once more confessed himself. The imperialist general
then took up his station beside him, and remained at
his post, until, slightly raising himself upon his pillow,
the dying man once more pressed his sword to his
lips, and faintly murmuring his war cry of " God and
my country ! " sank back, and expired.

A guard of honour was immediately stationed at the
entrance of the tent, and the body embalmed ; after
which all the gentlemen and equerries of his house-
hold, who had surrendered on the sole condition that
they should be permitted to see him once more before
his interment, were indiscriminately admitted, al-
though the same privilege was refused to individuals
of higher rank in the opposite army ; and as they re-
tired they were severally informed that they were free,
as the generals of the Emperor had no desire that they
should expiate by captivity the performance of a high
and sacred duty.

The body of Bayard was then borne to the church
by a party of his own gendarmes ; and solemn services
performed during two days ; after which it was delivered
over to the principal officers of his household to be

192 Francis I

conveyed to the family vault in Dauphiny according
to his request. As the funeral procession traversed
Savoy, the Duke caused similar honours to be shown
to the manes of the departed hero as he would have
rendered to those of a kinsman ; Piedmont paid him
the same respect; and in Dauphiny every house was
closed, and the belfry of every church rang a burial-
peal. But the greatest triumph of the deceased war-
rior was the mournful cry of the bereaved army ; the
sob of the scarred veteran in his tent, and the sigh of
the ardent young adventurer by the fire of his bivouac.
Even the mournful exclamation of Francis, when the
fateful news of the death of his famous knight was com-
municated to him, was less touching; for he thought
of himself rather than of his faithful warrior as he
exclaimed : " Alas ! I have lost a great captain. He
carries with him into the grave many of the brightest
jewels which might have been added to my crown."

And the hardy soldiers, seated in groups about their
camp-fires, forgot their own prowess — forgot their
own renown — and only murmured among themselves
when peril was approaching, or honour was to be
gained : " Bayard should have been here ! — but Bayard
is in his grave ! "

CHAPTER VIII.

The Milanese Lost to France — Bourbon and Pescara Pursue
the Fugitive Army — Bourbon Proposes to March into the
Interior of France — Descent of Pescara — They Besiege
Marseilles — The City is Relieved by Lorenzo de Ceri —
Francis Regulates the Internal Economy of the Kingdom
— Levies a Force to Oppose Bourbon — Noble Defence of
the Marseillaise — Disappointment of Bourbon — Taunt of
Pescara — The Imperialists Retreat — Francis Resolves to
Regain the Milanese — Determines to Head the Army in
Person — Is Dissuaded by His Mother, but Persists — Death
of Queen Claude — Heartlessness of the King — Mademoi-
selle de Voland — Louise de Savoie Persecutes M. de Sem-
blangay — He is Dismissed and Exiled from the Court —
Milan is Taken by the French — Its Deplorable Condition
— Imprudence of Francis — The French Encamp at Mira-
bello — They Assault Pavia and are Repulsed — Alarm of the
Pope — He Declares His Neutrality — Enters into a Secret
Treaty with Francis — Position of the French Army — The
Garrison of Pavia Mutiny — Supplies are Introduced into
the City by Stratagem — Da Leyva Robs the Churches to
Pay His Troops — Charles V. Declines to Restore the Ec-
clesiastic Ornaments — Bourbon Joins the Army at the
Head of a German Force — The Main Body of the Impe-
rialists March upon Pavia — The Swiss Desert from the
French Army, and are Followed by a Large Body of Ital-
ians— The Imperialists Endeavour to Bring Francis to a
General Engagement — Evil Influence of Bonnivet — Battle
of Pavia — Death of the Mar6chal de Chabannes — Ostenta-
Vol. II. — 13 193

194 Reign of

tious Vanity of the French King — Bonnivet Throws Him-
self into the Ranks of the Enemy, and is Killed — Death of
the Comte de Saint Severin — Cowardice of the Due d'Alen-
con — Slaughter of the Lansquenets — Escape of Pescara —
Final Charge of Bourbon — Francis Endeavours to Effect
His Escape from the Field — Is Captured — M. de Pomperant
Recognises the King, and Rescues Him from Violence —
He Refuses to Surrender His Sword to Bourbon — Francis
Claims the Hospitality of the Marquis del Guasto — His
Wounds are Dressed — Delivers His Sword to the Viceroy
of Naples — Refuses to Receive the Homage of Bourbon —
Pescara Summons the King to Set Forth for Pavia — Les-
cun and Bourbon Search for the Body of Bonnivet — Re-
sults of the Battle — Enthusiastic Admiration of the Impe-
rialist Soldiers for Francis — He is Removed to Pizzighit-
tona — Has an Interview with Bourbon — Discusses the
Events of the Battle with Pescara — Pardons Pomperant —
The Fortunate Prisoner — M. de Montpezat is Ransomed
by the King — Hypocrisy of Charles V.

THE deaths of Bayard and Vandenesse were the
greatest losses sustained by the French during
the retreat, if we except that of the duchy itself, which
was once more in the hands of the confederated sov-
ereigns. As regarded the troops, few had fallen,
although all had suffered greatly alike from fatigue
and privation ; yet when Bonnivet again crossed the
French frontier, it was with the humiliating conscious-
ness that his defeat had been more fatal to the interests
of Francis than any by which it had been preceded in
the Milanese. The retreat was also effected in such
confusion that Bourbon and Pescara resolved to pur-
sue the fugitives; but the jealousy of the Spanish
general would not permit him to follow the advice of
the Duke, who suggested the expediency of pushing

Francis I 195

forward at once to the interior, declaring his convic-
tion that, so soon as he should reach Bourbonnais,
Beaujolais, and Auvergne, all which countries had
formerly been his own, the inhabitants would instantly
join his standard. To this scheme Pescara, however,
could not be induced to listen ; and, accordingly, after
much expostulation on the part of Bourbon, it was
decided that their joint armies should proceed to the
frontiers of Provence, where the pledge of the ex-
Connetable was to a certain degree redeemed ; for not
only did the lesser towns through which they passed
receive him with little more than a mere show of re-
sistance, and, at his suggestion, swear fidelity to the
Emperor; but even Aix, the capital of Provence, ad-
mitted him within its walls on the 9th of August ; and
ten days subsequently the confederated generals, with
an army composed of seven thousand lansquenets, six
thousand Spanish infantry, two thousand Italians, and
six hundred light-horse, sat down before Marseilles.

Nor was even this formidable force the only one by
which the besieged citizens were threatened, as M. de
Lannoy, the Viceroy of Naples, engaged shortly to
follow with a body of six thousand cavalry ; while Ugo
de Moncada was to keep the whole army supplied with
provisions and ammunition, which were to be con-
veyed by a fleet of sixteen galleys to the coast.

On ascertaining the strait to which the Marseillaise
were reduced, Francis lost no time in despatching
Brion Chabot (as he had previously done to the
Parisians) to assure the citizens of effective aid; but,
before he arrived, Lorenzo de Ceri had already thrown
himself into the town with the remnant of his battalion

196 Reign of

of Italian patriots, now reduced, however, to four thou-
sand men, and even those so worn by fatigue and
wounds, that few of them survived this new demand
upon their energies.

On the departure of Bonnivet for Italy Francis had
returned to Blois, where he, for the first time, exerted
himself to regain the affections of the people who were
indignant at the defection of Bourbon, which they just-
ly attributed to his persecution by the court ; and it was
no sooner made known that he would be accessible to
all petitions, than he was inundated with complaints
against the soldiery and the fiscal agents. To the
representations of the peasantry he replied by author-
izing them to resist, even by violent measures, the
rapine of the troops, to take possession of their own
property wherever they might find it, and to deliver
over the marauders to the provost-marshals when they
chanced to fall into their hands. He next regulated
and equalized the taxes ; and, finally, he commanded
that all funds raised in the provinces should be at once
conveyed to Blois to meet the national exigencies ;
while he at the same time in some degree curtailed his
personal expenses ; ordaining that all presents which
he might hereafter make in specie, should be paid only
at the end of the year, after all the public accounts were
settled ; " excepting always," said the ordonnance in
conclusion, " the current outlay necessary to our own
privy necessities and pleasures."

The jeopardy of Marseilles, however, sufficed to
arouse the King for a time from the selfish indulgences
to which he was so painfully addicted. He had vainly
endeavoured to doubt the advent of Bourbon into his

Francis I 197

very kingdom at the head of an army, but when at
length he was compelled to admit the fact, he hastily
raised a corps of observation, instructed to harass the
confederates by every means short of an engagement,
which was to be carefully avoided. He moreover
levied fourteen thousand foot and six thousand lans-
quenets in Switzerland, and divided them between
Francois Due de Lorraine and Richard de la Pole,
together with fourteen or fifteen hundred cavalry. He
also despatched ad interim the Marechal de Chabannes,
with orders to possess himself of the city of Avignon
before it fell into the hands of the enemy ; an enterprise
in which he succeeded.

Meanwhile the position of Bourbon was onerous in
the extreme. The citizens rose as one man to oppose
him ; and the burgher-guard alone soon amounted to
nine thousand men. Nor was it solely against male
valour that he was called upon to contend ; all ranks
of women throughout the city vying with each other
in their efforts to second the noble exertions of their
fathers and brothers, and succeeding so efficiently in
defending one of the trenches, whence the troops had
been withdrawn to meet an attack upon another point,
that it has ever since been known as " The Ladies'
Trench." Those who were too weak to hurl missiles,
or to supply ammunition to the combatants, bore away
the wounded and administered to their wants; while
so resolute were the inhabitants never to surrender
their city, that the siege lasted forty days, and the sacri-
fice of life on both sides was immense.

An evil star appeared to plane over Bourbon. The
supplies of which he had wrung a promise from Eng-

198 Reign of

land did not arrive ; and the Italian troops, satisfied by
the expulsion of the French from their territories, re-
fused to co-operate across the frontier, loudly insisting
that a representation should be made to the Emperor,
to secure the mediation of the Pope, by which peace
might be restored throughout Europe. The imperial
flotilla was, moreover, encountered by the galleys of
Andrea Doria, and the French vessels under La Fay-
ette the vice-admiral; several of the ships were de-
stroyed, and others taken, together with all on board,
among whom was Philibert de Chalon, Prince of
Orange ; and meanwhile Bourbon was as ill-seconded
within the camp as without.

At the commencement of the siege he had treated the
matter lightly ; for, deceived by the facility with which
he had rendered himself master of the other towns of
Provence, he did not calculate upon any protracted re-
sistance on the part of the Marseillaise, and was un-
guarded enough to declare that half-a-dozen discharges
of artillery would bring the terrified citizens to the feet
of the confederated generals with the keys of the for-
tress in their Hands, and ropes about their necks ; and so
great was the influence which he possessed over the
troops, that they would have placed implicit confidence
in the assurance, had not Pescara, who had already
writhed beneath a conviction of the Duke's paramount
importance in his own country, led him to imbue the
soldiery with feelings of suspicion and distrust towards
his person which soon induced fatal results. The ar-
rival of Lannoy was also painfully delayed ; and
although the invading army had reached Provence
.at;£he beginning of July, it was not until the 7th of

'v'<-

Francis I 199

September that the besiegers were enabled to mount
their battery with the heavy ordnance which they had
brought for the purpose from Toulon and Bregancpn,
while their musketry produced no impression what-
ever upon the walls of the city ; and this was the more
mortifying to the confederated generals from the fact
that the artillery of the enemy was in excellent condi-
tion and admirably served, producing an amount of
damage in their camp for which they had been totally
unprepared.

The Italian patriots under Lorenzo de Ceri, also
succeeded by their constant sallies in impeding the
mining and other labours of the imperialists ; while so
constant and well-directed a fire was sustained against
them, that on one occasion during the performance of
mass in the tent of the Marquis de Pescara, the offi-
ciating priest and two of the attendants were killed by
a cannon-ball. Attracted by the confusion consequent
on the event, Bourbon hastened to the scene of action,
anxiously inquiring what had occurred ; when the
Spanish general, who had remained calm and self-
possessed during the uproar, sarcastically requested
him to dismiss all uneasiness, as it was only the timid
burghers of Marseilles, who, according to his pledge,
were on their way with the city keys, and their necks
in the noose, to deliver themselves and their fortress
into his hands.

A day or two subsequently a breach was effected
by means of the heavy ordnance, and an attempt was
made to take the city by storm ; but Lorenzo de Ceri
so effectually protected the opening by means of a
strong rampart and a deep ditch, that it was fo^und >

200 Reign of

impracticable ; and Pescara no sooner ascertained the
fact than he proceeded to the tent of Bourbon, in which
a council of war was then sitting, and, without affect-
ing to remark the Duke himself, exclaimed vehe-
mently : " Gentlemen, you who will it may go to
heaven ; there are means at hand, if you only remain,
and persevere in this siege ; but as I can wait, I shall
return to Italy, before I lose alike my life and my
renown."

As he ceased speaking he left the tent, and was
followed by every individual of the council save Bour-
bon himself, who had no alternative save to issue
orders for a retreat, which he now saw would be
effected equally without his sanction. At that mo-
ment he became bitterly aware that he had lost at
once substance and shadow. The independent king-
dom, and the royal wife, both of which his sword and
his name were to have secured to him, had alike eluded
his grasp ; he was no longer the powerful master of a
dozen provinces upon whom victory had waited ; he
was an outlawed, exiled, worsted general ; an alien
alike in his own land and in that which he had adopted.

On the 28th of September the retreat accordingly
commenced, deliberately and in good order; but it
was not effected without molestation, the Marechal de
Chabannes, at the head of six hundred horse, falling
upon the rear of the column, and not only destroying
a great number of the enemy, but also securing an
enormous quantity of booty ; while Montmorenci with
a strong force pursued them as far as Toulon, and did
considerable damage, although he did not succeed
in arresting their march.

Francis I 201

On the 28th of June, Francis had written from Am-
boise to assure the citizens of Provence that he would
immediately march in person to their assistance ; and
for this purpose he had collected an army consisting
of fourteen hundred Swiss, six thousand lansquenets,
ten thousand French and Italian infantry, and fifteen
hundred horse. The retreat of the confederated gen-
erals, however, rendered this reinforcement unneces-
sary ; and dazzled by such unhoped-for success, Fran-
cis, who once more saw himself master of a consider-
able army, resolved to make a new attempt to regain
the Milanese.

The most experienced of his generals attempted to
dissuade him from so quixotic a project, representing
that the autumn was now nearly at an end, and that
his army must be inevitably weakened and exhausted
by the mere casualties of so formidable a march, even
before they met the enemy ; but to this objection he
replied by haughtily remarking, that such as were
afraid of the cold might remain in Provence. He had
been assured by Bonnivet that his presence alone was
required to ensure the subjugation of the Duchy, and
his vanity was flattered by the prospect of succeeding
where older and more tried soldiers had failed.
Equally in vain were the expostulations of Louise de
Savoie, who, having been informed of his altered in-
tentions, despatched a courier to entreat him to await
her arrival, as she had secrets of great importance to
communicate; while at the same time she informed
him of the death of the Queen, whose long-failing
health had at length given way under her perpetual
mortifications.

202 Reign of

Neither consideration, however, could change or
retard his resolution ; and contenting himself by sim-
ply expressing his regret at the demise of his wife, and
confirming the authority of his mother as Regent of
France during his absence, the King immediately
hastened to cross the Alps, and to pursue his march
to Milan.

But if Francis in his selfish enthusiasm failed to
mourn over the fate of his victim, his subjects at least
avenged her. Gentle and unobtrusive as her life had
been, the Good Queen Claude, as the burghers and
people were accustomed to designate her, had left a
thousand memories of long-enduring sweetness and
inexhaustible charity as a monument in their hearts.
Her whole existence had been one of suffering.
Reared in strict seclusion, she had given her first and
only affection to her young husband ; nor had neglect,
harshness, or inconstancy tended to weaken it. Aware
of his excesses, she pardoned, without seeking to
avenge them; and when some passing remorse
brought him for a time to her side, she forgot the tears
which he had cost her and welcomed him with a smile.
But the daughter of Louis XII. was less strong in body
than in mind ; and her perpetual sufferings terminated
her life on the 26th of October, at the palace of Blois,
at the early age of twenty-five. She was interred as
modestly as she had live<^ ; the King was absent ; and
no pompous ceremonial desecrated the remains of her
gentle spirit.

In one thing, at least, Francis was sincere, for he.
did not even affect a semblance of grief at her death.
She had left him three sons, and the succession was

Francis I 203

assured ; he was about to effect the conquest of the
Milanese, and he had no leisure for domestic regrets ;
a loving heart was cold, but his own was capacious,
and he was now free. So little, indeed, was he touched
by her loss, that only a few weeks subsequently, when
during his progress through Provence, the citizens of
Manosque caused the keys of their city to be presented
to him by the most beautiful girl of the place, the looks
and gestures of the King so terrified the young and
timid Mademoiselle de Voland, that, discovering no
other method of escaping from insult, she applied sul-
phuric acid to her face on her return home, and thus
heroically, and effectually, put an end to the licentious
advances of her royal admirer.

Having failed in dissuading her son from his new
enterprise, Louise de Savoie, now Regent of France,
began to feel that she was in a position to revenge
upon the Minister of Finance the affront to which she
had been subjected through his uncompromising prob-
ity; and she accordingly hastened to suggest to Francis
the expediency of borrowing a large sum from de'
Semblanqay, to enable him to support the expenses of
his Italian expedition without harassing his subjects.
The King, who eagerly welcomed any measure by
which he could be relieved from his momentary diffi-
culties, did not hesitate to avail himself of the hint;
but the old Minister, who had already advanced three
hundred thousand crowns from his own private fortune
to uphold the dignity of the sovereign, and who saw
no prospect of their ever being repaid, respectfully but
firmly declined to make any further advance.

" I have claims upon me, madame," he said, when

204 Reign of

the Regent laid before him the letter of the King,
" which compel me to withhold any further loan to
the crown."

" You refuse then, Sir ? "

" I have no alternative, madame ; I am now an old
man, and cannot look forward to redeem my losses ;
nor must Your Highness deem it an act of disrespect
or disloyalty, if, while reluctantly obliged to disappoint
the expectations of my sovereign, I also crave the re-
payment of my previous loan."

" Sir," said the Duchess, as she rose haughtily from
her chair, and fixed her large eyes coldly and sternly
upon his, " do you wish to destroy yourself? "

" I am at a loss to understand you, madame."

" I shall ere long make my meaning clearer. I will
not detain you longer. Go, and reflect."

With a low obeisance which was, nevertheless, as
haughty as her own, the venerable Minister retired;
and for a few days Louise de Savoie waited to ascertain
the result of her threat; but as M. de Semblangay
evinced no disposition to relent, she despatched a
messenger to the army, who returned with an order
for the dismissal of the Finance-Minister, signed by
the King himself; when she arrogantly informed him
that he was at liberty to retire at once from the court ;
a permission of which he immediately and gladly
availed himself, and withdrew to an estate which he
possessed near Tours.

The capture of Milan was soon effected, M. de Lan-
noy by whom it was held, being unable to make an
effective resistance against so strong a force as that
by which he was now assailed. But Milan was no

Francis I 205

longer what it had formerly been ; impoverished, not
only by the pillage of its enemies, but also by the
exactions of those who had professed to be its friends ;
its battered houses filling its deserted streets with un-
sightly ruins; and its diminished population still
trembling at the recollection of the fearful plague to
which hundreds of their fellow-townsmen had fallen
victims ; nothing could be more uninviting to the eyes
of a conqueror than the aspect of the once proud city
which had so long been the centre of conflicting ambi-
tions.

Had the French King pursued the retreating army,
it is probable that he would have driven them out of
Italy ; as the people, wearied and outraged by the iron
rule of Spain and Germany, were anxious for their
expulsion ; while his unexpected success had so
alarmed the new Pope, Clement VII., that he entered
into a treaty by which he bound himself to furnish him
with supplies for carrying on the war ; while the mon-
arch, on his side, pledged himself to protect the
interests of the Ecclesiastical States, and the members
of the Medici family. But, intoxicated by the brilliant
commencement of his campaign, and surrounded by a
bevy of hot-headed favourites, who by flattering his
weakness ensured their own interests, Francis, who
was personally brave, and who panted to distinguish
himself in the eyes of the Emperor, yielded to that
passion for knight-errantry which had been his bane
as a general from his very youth, and disdaining to
turn aside from his one great purpose, suffered the
confederalists to condense their forces, and to mature
their plans ; while by the insidious advice of his chosen

206 Reign of

friends he pursued his march to Pavia, taking posses-
sion as he went of every fortress upon the way.

At the passage of the Ticino, he experienced con-
siderable resistance from the garrison of a fort, which,
however, ultimately fell into his hands ; and he was so
exasperated by the delay which their pertinacity had
induced, that they no sooner surrendered than he
caused every individual to be hanged who still sur-
vived within the walls ; declaring that " they had richly
earned their fate by daring to attempt the defence of
such a hen-roost against the army of the King of
France."

The park of Mirabello affording an admirable
position, the French army encamped there for the pur-
pose of investing Pavia, which was defended by da
Leyva,* who had exerted all his energies to strengthen

* Antonio da Leyva, who was reported to have been the son of a shoe-
maker, made his first campaign under the standard of Emanuel de Bena-
vides, when he invaded Messina with an army of two thousand four
hundred Spaniards, where he drew upon himself the attention of that
general by his extraordinary valour and intrepidity. His rise was con-
sequently rapid, until the period of the battle of Ravenna, where he,
in common with those about him, fled from the field. He subsequently,
however, redeemed his honour by his gallant defence of Pavia, and his
successful opposition to the several generals who were sent against him,
among whom were the Marechal de Lautrec and the Comte de Saint-Pol;
although, during the latter portion of his military career, he had become
so great a victim to the gout, and other constitutional maladies, that he
was compelled to be carried on a litter at the head of his troops.

After the victory of Pavia, he adopted as his device a hive about which
the bees were swarming, with the motto, Sic vos non vobis. The taking
of Fossan was his last and crowning exploit; but the defeat and capture
of Francis I. at Pavia had already secured to him the favour and friend-
ship of the Emperor, through whose influence and indulgence he was
enabled to realize a gigantic fortune, which he bequeathed to his chil-
dren, having previously married his daughters to some of the wealthiest
grandees of Spain. The tomb of this brave and fortunate soldier, who
had entered the army obscure and unknown, was inscribed with the
pompous titles of Prince of Ascoly, Due de Terranova, Marquis d'At-
tello, and primate of the Canary Islands.

Francis I 207

the fortifications, and who was so ably and zealously
seconded by the inhabitants that he was enabled ef-
fectually to carry out his object. So great, indeed,
was the enthusiasm of the citizens that, as at Marseilles,
even the women worked in the trenches ; and ere long it
became evident that the city could not be taken by,
assault.

The attempt made by the French troops to effect
this object proved indeed most disastrous ; for, misled
by the fact that the outer walls were not guarded by a
ditch, and that their artillery was consequently en-
abled to approach so near as to open a wide breach,
they began to anticipate an easy conquest ; they soon,
however, discovered that the ditch which was wanting
without the walls had been formed within, while every
private house had been converted into a fortress, and
filled with troops. Foiled in this attempt, the French
engineers endeavoured to turn one of the courses of
the Ticino, which bathes the walls of Pavia, and to
compel it into another channel, but the rainy season
having set in, they found it impossible to effect their
purpose. There remained, consequently, no alterna-
tive save that of sitting down before the city, occupying
the several thoroughfares which led to its gates, and
by thus cutting off all supplies, to await the result of
famine.

The Pope, alarmed by hostilities which threatened
to destroy the peace of Italy for an interminable pe-
riod, and seeing the whole country rapidly becoming
the prey of two hostile sovereigns who were alike
strangers, but each of whom was endeavouring to
undermine its liberty and independence, declared that

208 Reign of

he would not espouse the interest of either party, but,
as the head of Catholic Europe, was ready at any
moment to mediate between them. He accordingly
despatched to Francis his apostolical datary, Juan
Matteo Ghiberti, proposing a general truce for five
years, while a second messenger was accredited to
De Lannoy with the same suggestion. It was, how-
ever, coldly rejected on both sides, with the assurance
of the French King in reply, that ere long he should be
master of Pavia, and sovereign of the Milanese ; while
Lannoy, acting for the Emperor, bade the Papal en-
voy inform His Holiness, that he would never affix
his name to any treaty or truce which could tend to
leave one foot of ground in the contested duchy under
the dominion of Francis.

His interference having proved unavailing upon
this point, the Pontiff next demanded to maintain his
own neutrality, and that of the other Italian states;
but, although this was listlessly conceded by both par-
ties, the privilege became merely nominal, from the
fact that Clement VII. was at once too undecided and
too avaricious to take the necessary steps to uphold
the dignity of his high station. Fearful of favouring
the party which might ultimately fail, he waited to
observe the progress of events ; and too fond of money
to maintain an army such as might have enabled him
rather to dictate terms to the two invading Princes
than to ask impunity for his own supineness, he re-
mained powerless and unprotected, an easy prey to the
victor.

The assured attitude assumed by Francis induced
him, however, to enter into a secret treaty with that

Francis I 209

sovereign, by which he pledged himself, that neither
he himself individually, the city of Florence, nor the
Venetian Senate, should furnish the Emperor with
any supplies, either of men or money ; while the
French King agreed, in consideration of this promise,
to take the Florentine Republic under his immediate
protection ; but, although this treaty was probably
made in all sincerity on both sides, it availed little to
Francis, as the Venetians allowed the Due de Bourbon
to traverse their territories unmolested in the month
of January following at the head of a large force.

Meanwhile, Francis appeared to have greatly the
advantage over his enemies, surrounded as he was by
a numerous and well-organized army, all eager to
encounter the imperialists, and to win renown under
the eyes of their sovereign. His treasury was, more-
over, well supplied, and provisions were poured into
his camp from every side. New levies had been raised
in Switzerland, and constant reinforcements increased
the bulk of his already gigantic force. The imperial
generals were, on the contrary, at the head of a body
of men exhausted by the previous campaign, dis-
heartened by this new and formidable opposition,
weakened by an epidemic which had broken out
among the troops, and utterly without pecuniary re-
sources. The weather was, however, greatly in their
favour ; as although the French continued to keep up a
heavy fire upon the walls, and endeavoured to under-
mine them, the quantity of rain which fell impeded all
their measures.

Nevertheless, Francis calculated so firmly upon the
effects of famine and privation within the city, where
Vol. II.— 14

210 Reign of

he had been already informed by his spies that symp-
toms of mutiny had appeared among the garrison,
that he resolved to detach a portion of his army, which
was rapidly becoming weary of inaction, to the assist-
ance of the Angevin party, who had declared their de-
sire to take up arms against the Spaniards on the
Neapolitan territories. Every circumstance tended to
render the moment a propitious one for such an enter-
prise ; Lannoy, in order to strengthen his army in the
Milanese, had left Naples almost defenceless; the
secret treaty entered into with the Pope, relieved
Francis from all apprehension of his hostility ; Pescara
had absolutely refused to hazard an engagement with
the French, by which alone the design against Naples
might have been frustrated; and the imperialist sol-
diers were sullenly murmuring, not only at the daily
privations which they were compelled to undergo, but
also at the long arrears of pay which disabled them
from procuring any alleviation of their sufferings.
From the Emperor there was, moreover, little to fear
at that particular juncture, as he was confined to a
sick bed in Spain, and at the head of an army alike
weak and discontented, while perpetual feuds had
rendered his generals distrustful of each other. All
considerations consequently appeared to favour a revo-
lution in Naples; and Francis accordingly confided
the command of a body of nine thousand men to the
Due d'Aubigny, the ex-Regent of Scotland, with in-
structions to act against the Spaniards.

For a time da Leyva was enabled to silence the
murmurs of the garrison of Pavia by assurances that
ample funds for the payment of their arrears were in

Francis I 211

the hands of the Viceroy Lannoy ; to whom he wrote,
earnestly representing the impossibility of sustaining
the siege unless he received immediate supplies.
Lannoy was aware that his position was critical ; but
the investment of the city by the French troops, ren-
dering it impossible to convey relief to the besieged,
save by stratagem, he was compelled to have recourse
to a bold and hazardous experiment, of which he was
careful to apprise da Leyva ; and, a short time subse-
quently, two Spanish troopers in the garb of peasants,
mounted upon sturdy and ill-groomed hackneys, and
each leading a second horse, charged with a couple of
wine-barrels, presented themselves before the French
camp, and asked permission to enter in order to vend
their merchandise. They were gladly welcomed, that
necessary luxury to Frenchmen having become rare ;
and they accordingly rode forward until they were
close under the city walls, where they unloaded their
animals, and affected to be preparing to stave in the
tubs. This was the moment for which the Spanish
general had been anxiously watching, and the precious
barrels laden with treasure, were no sooner lifted to
the ground, than he made a sudden and desperate
sally, and succeeded in possessing himself of the prize.
Ere long, however, the clamours of the troops were
renewed ; their claims were still unpaid in part, while
their numerous necessities had been far from satisfied ;
and in this new emergency — which was rendered
doubly dangerous from the fact that even the lans-
quenets, who had hitherto remained passive, began to
exhibit symptoms of mutiny in their turn — da Leyva
found himself compelled to resort to the same expedi-

212 Reign of

ent as the Emperor Dionysius, who tore the golden
robe from the shoulders of Apollo ; and to strip all the
shrines of Padua of their precious metals. Like a
good Catholic, however, he accompanied this act of
sacrilege by a solemn vow to restore to each of the
despoiled altars gifts of still greater value, if he should
succeed in defending the city ; and, with the spoil thus
secured, he caused a coarse coinage to be struck, with
which he paid his army, and escaped from the threat-
ened peril.

The priests, at the termination of the siege, ventured
humbly to remind him of the sacred pledge that he
had given ; but da Leyva politely referred them to the
Emperor, of whom he told them that he was but the
subject and servant, and to whom, as he asserted,
they must consequently look for the remuneration
which they sought. Charles V., however, whose days
of saintship had not yet commenced, and who found
it expedient to sink the sovereign in the soldier, de-
clined, when they transmitted their application, to
render himself answerable for debts contracted with-
out his sanction ; and thus, the goodly ornaments of
the temples of Pavia were lost to them for ever.

Meanwhile, Bourbon had, as we have stated, joined
the imperial camp with his new levies ; and supported
by so powerful a command, he was enabled to act
independently of Pescara and Lannoy, whose jealousy
and distrust had hitherto paralysed all his efforts.
Unfortunately for the French cause, the arrival of the
Duke ocurred almost simultaneously with the depart-
ure of D'Aubigny for Naples; while the fatal effects
oLtbe jnclement weather to which they were exposed,

.y-

» « -

nhtttnSS

Francis I 213

were moreover becoming- painfully apparent in the
relaxed discipline and rapidly thinning ranks of the
royal army. Desertions constantly occurred, which
were carefully concealed from the King, as well as the
mortality that was taking place among the troops;
and he continued to make the necessary disbursements
for an efficient army, when many of the regiments
were reduced to half their original numbers. The
rapacity of the officers to whom these large sums were
entrusted became only more inordinate as they found
the impunity with which their measures were attended ;
upon which Bourbon, when apprised by his emissaries
of the fatal error of the King, who soon began to ex-
perience considerable inconvenience in meeting so
enormous and perpetual an outlay, resolved to take
advantage of the circumstance, and suggested an
immediate attack upon the enemy. Neither Lannoy
nor Pescara, however, was prepared to follow his sug-
gestion; while the troops openly declared that until
they received the full payment of their arrears they
would not take the field. As further delay would but
deepen this difficulty, it was consequently resolved
that the three generals should distribute among their
several followers whatever private property they pos-
sessed, and at once march upon the French camp ; and,
ultimately, on the 25th January, 1525, the imperialists
struck their tents, and left Lodi, on their route towards
Pavia.

Once again, the partiality of Francis for the Swiss
mercenaries was fated to be cruelly shaken ; six thou-
sand Grisons who had voluntary joined his army,
being at this period induced to desert his caus^e.^^ g^

(f)\\tnrtr,

214 Reign of

Gian Giacomo de' Medici, who having surprised and
taken the castle of Chiavenna, an important fortress
on the Lake of Como, so alarmed the inhabitants of
the country that they issued orders for the instant re-
turn of all their troops then in the pay of France, nor
could all the persuasions of the King succeed in de-
taining them ; a mortification rendered still greater by
the fact that they withdrew only five days previous to
the battle; while sundry other serious casualties had
occurred by which his strength was shaken and his
movements crippled. Four thousand Italian troops,
raised in Savona by the Marquis de Saluzzo, for the
service of France, were surprised while crossing the
Alessandrino, and were nearly cut to pieces ; Palavi-
cino, with a still stronger reinforcement, was com-
pelled to give battle to the enemy at Casal-Maggiore,
where his troops were defeated, and himself taken
prisoner ; Juan de' Medici, who commanded the Black
Bands, was wounded in the thigh on the 20th of Feb-
ruary, and compelled to withdraw from the camp ; and,
finally, the Pope, still anxious, if possible, to put an
end to hostilities, once more endeavoured to mediate
between the conflicting parties, and urged the expedi-
ency of restoring the Genoese to liberty ; while Spain,
after so long a delay, forwarded the sum of a hundred
and fifty thousand ducats for the support of her troops,
at a period when Francis was beginning to discover
the inadequacy of his own resources.

The defection of the Grisons raised the hopes of da
Leyva ; who, aware that the imperialist generals were
preparing to relieve him, abandoned the purely de-
fensive system which he had hitherto pursued, and by

Francis I

215

constant and vigorous sallies harassed the French
troops, and deprived them of all repose. Their posi-
tion was, moreover, by no means secure, encamped as
they were between a strongly fortified and well-garri-
soned city, and an advancing army which greatly
exceeded them in numbers. On the 1st of February,
the imperialists had advanced within a mile of the
French outposts, where they endeavoured, until near
the end of the month, by perpetual skirmishes, to in-
duce Francis to pass his entrenchments and to give
them battle. At length, wearied of inaction, Pescara
determined to effect his entrafice into the park of
Mirabello, for the purpose of relieving the garrison of
Pavia ; or, failing in that attempt, forcing the enemy
from within their lines to the open ground. The
French were, however, prepared for this movement;
and the Spanish general accordingly found them
drawn up in order of battle, and covered by a formid-
able force of artillery under the command of Jacques
Gaillot de Genouilhac, Seneschal d'Armagnac.

The vanguard of the imperialists suffered severely
as they began to traverse the level plain, but they still
persisted in their advance ; while the main body under
the command of Pescara, and the rear-guard under
that of Lannoy and Bourbon, were each in their turn
exposed to the same galling fire, until they were en-
abled to take refuge in a small valley which afforded
them partial shelter. Alphonso d'Avalos, Marquis del
Guasto,* who commanded the vanguard, then 2ft-

* The Marquis del Guasto was the cousin of Pescara, under whom he
served, until the death of the latter, with considerable distinction; and
subsequently became so great a favourite of Charles V., that, during his
expedition against Tunis, that sovereign appointed him lieutenant-gen-

216 Reign of

structed his men to scatter themselves, and to make
their way as rapidly as they could individually to the
walls of the city, in order that they might not present
so sure a mark for the enemy's guns, a manoeuvre
which completely misled Francis ; who, surrounded by
a brilliant staff, was watching the movements of his
adversaries, and no sooner witnessed this apparent
confusion than he gave an order to charge, which was
eagerly re-echoed by the hot-headed young nobles
about him.

The words had scarcely died away upon his lips,
when the whole body of his cavalry galloped to the
front, thus suspending the operations of the artillery ;
while the troops of del Guasto, profiting by so unex-
pected a pause, once more formed into line with their
face towards the French camp. The imperialist horse,
among whom were a body of Spanish harquebussiers,
answered the charge of the royal lances with a steady
and well-directed fire ; and many a noble cavalier bit
the dust before the course of the maddened horses
could be arrested.

On learning the approach of the confederated army,
Francis had lost no time in recalling La Tremouille
and Lescun from Milan; but even at that period he

eral of his forces, and himself yielded the same obedience to his orders
which he exacted from others. He was afterwards lieutenant-general in
Italy and the Milanese. He raised the siege of Nice, where he was
opposed by M. d'Anguyen and Barbarossa; but lost much of his repu-
tation by his defeat at Cerizola, where he fled from the field before the
termination of the battle. Vain as he was brave, M. del Guasto was
remarkable for the costliness of his dress and jewels, and for his in-
ordinate love of perfumes, which he used not only upon his own person,
but upon the very saddle on which he rode. After his disgraceful flight
from Cerizola, he redeemed himself by new and valiant exploits, and
died only a short time before the French King, whose courtesy he had
repaid by treachery and ingratitude.

Francis I 217

remained so prepossessed by the idea that he must
inevitably prove successful, that he did not attempt to
interfere with any of the measures adopted by Bonni-
vet ; even allowing him on many occasions to preside
over the war councils, and supporting his views in
opposition to those of his veteran generals, while he
amused himself in his society and in that of Anne de
Montmorenci, Brion, and other enthusiasts, who suc-
ceeded in persuading him that his very presence must
ensure victory, by arranging gigantic and gorgeous
plans consequent upon his conquest, and never
destined to be realized.

Somewhat startled, however, by the actual advance
of the enemy, Francis assembled about him all his
oldest and bravest officers, among whom were La
Palice, La Tremouille, Rene de Savoie, the Duke of
Suffolk, Galeaz de Saint Severino, and Lescun, who
severally urged upon him the expediency of raising
his camp, and taking up a position which might pre-
vent the imperialists from reaching Pavia; represent-
ing that the garrison must inevitably disband itself
from want of money and provisions, if, by persisting
in his refusal to come to a general engagement, he
abandoned it to its own resources. The younger
nobles, however, listened scornfully to these sugges-
tions, and were in vain reminded by their more experi-
enced coadjutors that, by so prudent a line of policy,
not only Pavia itself, but the whole of the duchy must
ultimately fall into the hands of the King; declaring
the suggestion to be unworthy the consideration of
the conqueror of Marignano. La Tremouille then
suggested, that should Francis indeed decide upon

218 Reign of

coming to a general engagement, he would act wisely
in quitting his camp, and meeting the imperialists in
the open plain ; a proposition to which it is probable
that the King would readily have acceded, had not
Bonnivet, whose rash arrogance could tolerate no
opposition, eagerly and vehemently exclaimed —

" Are you aware, gentlemen, of the extent of the
ignominy which you propose to our brave King, whose
valour and courage are well known, when you suggest
to him to raise the siege, and to avoid the battle which
is now offered to us, and which we have so long de-
sired ? We Frenchmen have never yet refused to meet
an enemy, and have not been accustomed to fight ac-
cording to the rules of petty subterfuges and military
artifices, but gallantly and openly ; and still less should
we close now, when we have at our head a bold and
valiant sovereign who should give courage to cowards.
Kings habitually carry good fortune with them, and
not only good fortune, but assured success; witness
our young King Charles VIII. at Taro, Louis XII.
at Aignadel, and still more recently our present
gracious monarch at Marignano ; so efficient is their
very presence upon the field. And doubt not, but
that on seeing him at the head of his army, (for the
King, gentlemen, will himself be our leader,) all the
brave troops by whom he is surrounded will follow
his example, and cut down the puny enemy against
whom we are called upon to contend. Thus, Sire, let
us give battle to the forces of Charles; and that
speedily."

This insidious advice was followed ; and as we have
shown, the two hostile armies met ; but the imprudent

Francis I 219

movement of Francis had already seriously affected
his interests. The cessation of the firing enabled the
imperialists to rally ; and the Marquis del Guasto had
already reached the castle, and detached a strong party
to the gate of the city, which they were about to enter,
when they were driven back by Brion. Other divi-
sions of the imperial army followed on the same track,
but they were successively routed by the renewed fire
of the French guns, which were turned upon the point
where they hoped to have effected their entrance.
Francis, however, having detached the flanks of his
Swiss and lansquenets whom he had ordered to ad-
vance, had so exposed his main body that Pescara
instantly profited by the error, and threw a body of
eight hundred Spanish riflemen upon the enemy's
cavalry, while del Guasto attacked the right wing
under Montmorenci. The Swiss, unprepared for the
charge, faltered and gave way, and on seeing their
leader fall, fled from the field, abandoning Montmo-
renci and Fleuranges, who were made prisoners by the
enemy. The French troops, nevertheless, stood their
ground bravely, and the want of prudence in their
leaders was nobly compensated by their steady and
resolute valour. But the first error could not be re-
trieved. Bourbon with his body of Germans, and
Pescara at the head of his Spaniards, marched reso-
lutely against the enemy, and were followed by Lan-
noy on the other flank of the French army ; while
Antonio da Leyva made an impetuous sally with his
cavalry, which greatly assisted their charge.

The Marechal de la Palice, aware of the advantage
obtained by the imperialists, hastened to bring the

220 Reign of

vanguard into action ere it should be too late ; and the
Due d'Alencon, although with less alacrity, also
moved forward on the opposite wing; while Francis,
who had taken up his position in front of the main
body, was surrounded by his gendarmes. No exer-
tion, however, could redeem the fortunes of the day.
The King saw himself assailed in three opposite di-
rections, and his bravest officers falling about him on
all sides. The gallant and unfortunate de la Pole, or,
as he was commonly called by the French, Rose
Blanche, fell at the head of the Black Bands, and thus
terminated a career of persecution by an honourable
death. The force which he commanded being under
the ban of the empire for persisting in their fidelity to
the French cause, and detested by the Swiss, who re-
garded them as dangerous rivals, were, moreover, par-
ticularly obnoxious to their own countrymen, by whom
they were looked upon as rebels ; and thus, aware that
they could expect no quarter in the event of defeat,
they had fought with such desperate resolution that
they had not yielded a foot of ground, and had fallen
where they stood; maintaining their position even in
death with such resolute pertinacity as to extract the
exclamation from Francis, at the termination of the
battle, that had all his subjects that day done their duty
like the brave men who lay at his feet, Pavia would
have changed masters, and the Spanish generals been
in bonds instead of himself.

On every side, however, the slaughter was fearful ;
and much of the best blood of France flowed on that
fatal field. The fate of the veteran La Palice was
melancholy. He had twice succeeded in beating back

Francis I 221

the imperialists, when a new reinforcement convinced
him that he could no longer cope with so unequal an
enemy. His lieutenant Clermont d'Amboise, to whom
he was affectionately attached, was killed under his
eyes; but still strong in his indomitable courage, he
made a last effort to rally his exhausted forces, when a
ball from an harquebuss struck his horse, which fell
dead under him. He, however, succeeded in disen-
gaging himself from the saddle, and had already com-
menced his retreat towards the infantry when he was
taken prisoner. His age and his known valour had
inspired his captor with respect, and no indignity was
offered to him, until he was encountered by a Spanish
captain, who, struck by the splendour of his armour
and the dignity of his deportment, immediately per-
ceived that he was no common prize, and declared his
determination of sharing in so rich a spoil. To this
his original companion demurred, and the quarrel be-
came ere long so violent that the intruder, carried away
by the violence of his passion, discharged his weapon
at the defenceless prisoner, and stretched him at his
feet, with an asseveration that if he were not to profit
by his capture, no other individual should do so.

And thus the veteran hero, whose military career
commenced at Fornova in 1495, and terminated at
Pavia in 1525, with scarcely a stain to mar its lustre,
fell in cold blood, the victim of a narrow-hearted and
sordid wretch, to whom gold was of more value than
the life of a fellow-creature.

Had Francis possessed as much military knowledge
and sound judgment as he evinced courage and energy
on this fateful occasion, the day of Pavia must have

222 Reign of

been a glorious one for France ; but here, as on every
other occasion, he had been deluded by his vanity and
betrayed by his want of prudence. Encouraged by
the flatterers who surrounded him, to believe himself
invulnerable to human reverses, he had sacrificed his
army in a weak attempt at self-aggrandizement, and
by masking his artillery in order to make a personal
assault upon the gates of Pavia, turned the whole tide
of the battle. Nor did his imprudence end there ; for,
by the splendour of his dress, he had rendered himself
so conspicuous that his escape in the event of failure
became impossible. Already sufficiently distinguished
by his tall and commanding person, he wore over his
armour a surcoat of cloth of silver, while his helmet
was surmounted by a white plume which served as a
beacon to the enemy. His exploits on the field, how-
ever, did no dishonour to the royalty of his appearance,
for the humblest and most obscure man-at-arms under
his command could not have fought more valiantly
than himself ; and for a time Bonnivet equalled him in
courage and resolution; but the moment came at
length in which the arrogant favourite felt that all was
lost. After having in vain endeavoured to rally the
remnant of the Swiss troops and a few gendarmes, he
raised the visor of his helmet, and exclaiming : " No ; I
cannot survive this disgraceful defeat — I must die in
the thickest of the fight ; " he set spurs to his horse,
and in a few moments fell pierced by twenty wounds.
Still the King maintained his ground, and at one
time with a slight prospect of success, but the Spanish
infantry under Pescara, and a body of fifteen hundred
Basque crossbow-men whom they protected, receiv-

Francis I 223

ing them into their ranks after each separate discharge,
soon decided the fate of the field. The operations of
these skirmishers were so rapid and so erratic that it
was impossible either to foresee or to retort their at-
tacks, while by their extraordinary celerity and quick-
ness of sight they were enabled to approach and pick
off the most conspicuous of the enemy. Thus they
succeeded in destroying among others the gallant La
Tremouille, who fell pierced at once through his head
and his heart, and the Comte Galeaz de Saint Severino,
the great-equerry of France, whose duty it was to pro-
tect the person of the King ; a duty which he had so
courageously and devotedly performed that he was
riddled with wounds, and when his horse was at length
shot under him, was almost smothered in his own
blood. As a friend who saw him fall hastened to his
assistance, and would have conveyed him from the
field, true to his oath, he still summoned strength to
gasp out : " Leave me ; I am beyond your care. Look
to the King, and leave me to die."

It was this critical moment, when nothing save a
charge from the infantry upon the Basques could avert
the total ruin of the French army, and when the instant
arrival of the Due d'Alenqon was confidently antici-
pated, that the weak and terrified Prince elected to
command a retreat. He had hitherto taken no part in
the engagement, save the solitary demonstration to
which we have already alluded ; but he nevertheless
shrank before the danger which presented itself, and
resolved to effect his escape. A strong body of Swiss
troops, who had relied on his support, on remarking
the retrograde movement of his division, were struck

224 Reign of

with panic and retired in disorder, believing that their
destruction, should they continue to advance, was in-
evitable; and thus the remnant of the French army
was alone left to rally round the King. In quick
succession Longman d'Augsbourg the captain of the
lansquenets, Francois de Lambese, the brother of the
Due de Lorraine, Wittemberg de Lauffen, Theodoric
de Schomberg, and all the principal leaders of the lans-
quenets, had fallen upon one fatal spot; and now
another bevy of brave men were collected with scarcely
a hope of brighter fortune. And great indeed was the
second sacrifice. La Palice and La Tremouille had
already fallen, as well as Saint Severino and d'Au-
bigny ; but Lescun, the Comte de Tonnerre, and many
others of the first nobility of France, were killed at the
side of Francis. The white plume of the sovereign
was the rallying point for all the chivalry of the na-
tion ; and even Bussy d'Amboise, who had been
instructed to impede the egress of the garrison of
Pavia, no sooner discovered the peril of his King than
he abandoned his post and hastened to his assistance.
Unfortunately, however, he had scarcely reached the
royal standard ere he was killed in his turn, while the
Spaniards under da Leyva, finding themselves by these
means enabled to leave the city, rushed tumultuously
through the gates, and in the first impulse of vengeance
for past constraint massacred the prisoners taken by
their comrades.

Yet still the group around the French King de-
fended themselves with unabated energy ; the Basques
began in their turn to fall before the enemy whom they
had so long and so successfully assailed ; and Pescara,

Francis I 225

who was at their head, was severely wounded in the
face, unhorsed, and narrowly escaped capture. Had
the gendarmes of Francis been efficiently supported at
this juncture, much might still have been achieved;
but, compelled to act alone against a mixed and su-
perior force, they were reduced to the alternative of
retiring closer and closer about the person of the
King; while the advance of Bourbon with his lans-
quenets, and the impetuous charge to which they were
subjected on his approach, created a disorder in their
ranks which they were utterly unable to retrieve.

The battle had scarcely lasted throughout an hour,
and already it was decided. A few feet of that field
which he had confidently hoped would ensure to him
the undying glory of a conqueror, were all that re-
mained to Francis ; but even for these few feet he still
contended gallantly. With his own hand he had cut
down the Marquis de St. Angelo, the last descendant
of Scanderbeg, and unhorsed the Chevalier d'Andelot,
besides dealing vigorous blows upon others of less
note during the earlier period of the battle ; and now,
when he fought rather against hope than from any
anticipation of success, his aim continued as true and
his hand as steady as though an empire still hung on
the result of his prowess.

He was already bleeding profusely from three
wounds, one of which had traversed his forehead, and
caused him acute pain, when his horse was shot under
him, and he fell to the ground beside six of his assail-
ants, all of whom had been struck down by his own
sword on the same spot. Enfeebled as he was, he suc-
ceeded in disengaging himself from his dead charger ;
Vol. II.— ij 3

226 Reign of

and once more leaping into the saddle of a led horse,
which had been prepared in the event of such an emer-
gency, he turned one long and regretful glance upon
the chivalrous little group who had so lately formed
his best bulwark, but who were now scattered over the
plain in a desperate attempt to evade the troops of
Bourbon ; and striking his spurs into the flanks of the
animal, he galloped off in the direction of the bridge
across the Ticino, ignorant that former fugitives had
destroyed it after they had effected their own passage.
At the moment in which he made this unfortunate
discovery, he was encountered by four Spanish rifle-
men, who at once sprang to his bridle, and prevented
all further attempts at escape. Providentially, they
had expended their ammunition ; but one of the num-
ber, fearful that a prisoner whose high rank was
apparent from the richness of his costume, should
elude their grasp, struck the panting horse of the King
over the head with the stock of his rifle, and thus
precipitated both the animal and his rider into a ditch
by the way-side.

This cowardly act was scarcely accomplished, when
two Spanish light-horsemen, Diego d'Abila and Juan
d'Urbieta, arrived upon the spot ; and being struck by
the extreme richness of the King's apparel, and the
order of St. Michael with which he was decorated, they
at once agreed that the captive was no common prize,
and insisted upon their proportion of the ransom-
money. The situation of Francis was perilous in the
extreme, for we have already stated that the gallant
and veteran Marechal de la Palice had been wantonly
murdered under precisely the same circumstances;

Francis I 227

but as

" There's a divinity doth hedge a king,"

so did that special Providence preserve the defeated
monarch in this fearful crisis of his fate. Horsemen
were heard approaching rapidly; the rattling of
armour and the clang of weapons announced a nu-
merous party ; and in the next instant, M. de Pompe-
rant, the friend and confidant of Bourbon, and M. de
la Motte des Moyers, a gentleman of his household,
at the head of a troop of men-at-arms, checked their
horses beside the group. One glance sufficed to
assure them both that the wounded and exhausted
man, from whose brow the blood was still streaming
over his glittering surcoat, was the French monarch ;
and putting aside the wrangling soldiers, M. de
Pomperant sprang from his horse, and threw himself
at the feet of the King, beseeching him not further to
endanger his existence by a resistance which was alike
hopeless and desperate.

Faint and subdued alike by fatigue, suffering, and
bitter feeling, Francis leant for an instant upon his
sword as if in deliberation. " Rise, sir," he said at
length ; " it is mockery to kneel to a captive King. I
am ready to share the fate of the brave men who have
fallen with me. To whom can I resign my sword ? "

" The Due de Bourbon is on the field, Sire," mur-
mured Pomperant with averted eyes.

" Not so, sir," replied the monarch haughtily, as he
once more stood proudly erect. " This sword is that
of Francis of France : it cannot be entrusted to a traitor..
Rather would I die a thousand deaths than; that my
honour should be so sullied."

228 Reien of

&'

" The Viceroy of Naples, Sire — " was the next timid
suggestion.

" So let it be," said the monarch coldly ; " he has, at
least, not disgraced his own. To M. de Lannoy I
may deliver it without shame."

This concession made, La Motte galloped back to
the field to announce the surrender of the French King,
and to summon the Neapolitan Viceroy ; not omitting
at the same time to spread the welcome intelligence
as he went, and to inquire for the Due de Bourbon.
Thus, only a brief time elapsed ere large bodies of men
were on their way to the spot where Francis, still
attended by Pomperant, and guarded by the six troop-
ers, remained calmly awaiting their arrival. The first
general who reached it was the Marquis del Guasto,
who approached the monarch with an air of respectful
deference, to which Francis replied with a courtesy as
dignified as it was frank ; immediately addressing him
by name, and expressing a hope that he had escaped
unhurt. The immediate care of the Marquis was to
disperse the crowd of soldiers who were rapidly col-
lecting about the person of the King ; after which he
resumed his position a little in the rear on his right
hand, and, after the hesitation of a moment, Francis,
with a faint smile and a steady voice, again spoke :

" I have one favour to claim at your hands, M. del
Guasto," he said. " Fortune has favoured your mas-
ter, and I must submit ; but I would fain pray you not
to conduct me to Pavia. I could ill brook to be made
a spectacle to the citizens who have suffered so much
at my hands. Allow me to become, for a time at least,
your own guest."

Francis I 229

" I am at the orders of your Majesty, and deeply
sensible of the honour that is conferred upon me,"
replied the favourite of Charles. A fresh horse was
then led forward, the stirrup was held by Del Guasto
bare-headed, and Francis once more mounted, and
escorted by the troop of the Spanish general, traversed
the camp, in order to reach the quarters of his new
host.

Medical aid was instantly procured, his wounds were
dressed, and it was discovered that, in addition to the
hurts which he had received, his cuirass was indented
in several places by balls, one of which had been so
well aimed, and had entered so deeply into the metal,
that his life had only been preserved by a relic which
he wore suspended from a gold chain about his neck,
and against which the force of the ball had expended
itself.

The operations of the surgeons were scarcely com-
pleted ere the Marquis de Pescara entered the tent,
who saluted the King coldly, but respectfully, and he
was shortly followed by Lannoy, to whom Francis,
with the mien rather of a conqueror than a captive, at
once tendered his sword. The Viceroy bent his knee
as he received it, and having deferentially kissed the
hand by which it was tendered, immediately presented
the King with another weapon. The next general
who appeared was Bourbon, still in complete armour
with his visor closed, and carrying his reeking sword
unsheathed in his hand. As he approached, the King
inquired his name, to which Pescara replied, that it
was Charles of Bourbon ; upon which Francis stepped
a pace backward, as if to avoid his contact ; and Pes-

230 Reign of

cara, advancing at the same moment, demanded the
Duke's sword. Bourbon at once delivered it up ; and
then raising his visor, cast himself upon his knees
before Francis, and humbly craved permission to kiss
the royal hand. The indignant monarch coldly and
proudly refused to receive this act of homage ; and his
scorn so deeply wounded the ex-Connetable, that he
exclaimed bitterly and almost reproachfully, " Ah, Sire,
had you but followed my advice, you had never been
here and thus ; nor so much of the best blood of France
reeking upon the plains of Italy ! "

For a moment Francis fixed his eyes sternly upon
the prostrate figure before him, and then raising them
to Heaven, he said impatiently : " Patience — only
grant me patience, since fortune has deserted me "

This trying interview was terminated by Pescara,
who intimated to the King that he must within an
hour hold himself in readiness to mount, as he should
have the honour of escorting him to Pavia before
nightfall. The lip of the monarch quivered for a
second, and his cheek blenched, but he was too proud
to reiterate a request which had been disregarded ; and
the imperialist generals had no sooner withdrawn, than
he occupied himself in writing to his mother the cele-
brated letter which has been so often declared to have
consisted only of the brief and emphatic sentence,
" Madame, tout est perdu fors l'honneur ; " but which
Sismondi affirms, on the authority of a MS. chronicle
of Nicaise Ladam, king-at-arms of Charles V., and
the parliamentary registers of the 10th of November,
to have been as wordy and diffuse as his ordinary
epistles ; and to have merely contained a version of the

Francis I 231

phrase of which modern historians have represented
it entirely to consist.

Lescun, who was mortally wounded, but still sur-
vived, exhausted his slender remains of strength in
seeking to encounter Bonnivet, to whose evil influ-
ence he justly attributed the disasters of his country ;
and Bourbon, smarting under a new and bitter morti-
fication which he was anxious to avenge upon its
original author, was similarly occupied for a consider-
able time. The search of Lescun was terminated by
utter exhaustion, and he was lifted from his horse
covered with blood, and conveyed to Pavia to die.
Bourbon was more successful, although his intention
was frustrated, for he at length discovered the favour-
ite stretched upon the field stark and stiff, and com-
pletely riddled with wounds. The handsomest and
vainest noble of France lay a mangled corpse before
him ; and as, after a lengthened gaze, he turned aside,
he murmured less in anger than in pity, " Miserable
man ! It is to you that both France and myself owe
our ruin."

Well might he utter those fearful words; for the
battle of Pavia had not only cost the liberty of the
French monarch, but had overwhelmed his kingdom
with grief and mourning. Among those who fell,
were the Marechal de Chabannes, M. de la Tremouille,
Bonnivet himself, the Bastard of Savoie, who, al-
though he survived the engagement for a few days,
ultimately died of his wounds ; Galeaz de Saint Seve-
rino, the Due de Lorraine, the Duke of Suffolk, the
Comte de Tonnerre, the Seigneur de Chaumont, Bussy
d'Amboise, and many others of high rank ; while the

232 Reign of

prisoners taken by the imperialists were still more
numerous, and of equal reputation. Henri d'Albret,
King of Navarre, was the captive of Pescara himself ;
who, aware of the importance of his prisoner to the
Emperor, who coveted his kingdom, refused every
offer of ransom ; a pertinacity which determined the
young monarch to attempt his escape, an endeavour
in which he was fortunately successful. The Comte
de St. Pol was equally happy. Having fainted from
loss of blood upon the field, he was believed to have
expired, but was restored to consciousness by the
agony occasioned by the violence of a soldier, who, in
passing, was attracted by the glitter of a valuable jewel
that he wore upon his hand, and being unable to with-
draw it, proceeded to cut off the finger which it en-
circled. Startled by the effect of his barbarity, the
man at length yielded to the entreaties and promises
of the Count, and conveyed him in safety to Pavia,
whence, on his restoration to health, he accompanied
him to France ; but more than a score of the highest
nobility of the country remained prisoners to the
enemy.

From the moment in which it was ascertained that
the King was taken, the French troops offered no
further resistance, but many were slaughtered during
the succeeding two hours; and numbers of fugitives,
dreading a similar fate, attempted to escape by swim-
ming across the Ticino, where they all perished miser-
ably. The disproportion in the aggregate loss of the
several armies appears nevertheless incredible; for it
is asserted that while that of the French amounted to
eight thousand men, the imperialists did not lose more

Francis I 233

than seven hundred; while they were so anxious to
secure their prisoners, and to possess themselves of
the enormous booty which had fallen into their hands,
that they remained a sufficient time upon the field to
secure the flight of the Comte de Clermont, and to
enable him to destroy the bridges over which he passed
on his way through Piedmont; to permit Teodoro
Trivulzio to evacuate Milan, and make good his re-
treat by Lago Maggiore ; and to render it practicable
for the French to evacuate Lombardy altogether.

The capture of Francis caused a powerful sensation
in the imperialist camp. The enthusiasm of the sol-
diery knew no bounds; and their admiration of the
royal prisoner became at length so demonstrative, that
under the pretence of their presence and acclamations
harassing the King, Lannoy forbade them to approach
his tent. They had overlooked his defeat at Pavia,
and remembered only his victory at Marignano.
From the camp Francis was transferred to the citadel
of Pizzighittona, and he had scarcely arrived there
when Bourbon solicited an interview. Too proud to
shrink from the encounter, painful as it was, the King
offered no objection; but the Duke had no sooner
appeared upon the threshold of his apartment than
he exclaimed reproachfully : " Are you then so proud
of a victory which has ruined those who are nearest
and dearest to you, M. de Bourbon ? "

" Sire," replied the ex-Connetable respectfully but
firmly, " I beseech Your Majesty not to reproach me
with a defection of which I should never have been
guilty, had not the animosity of others compelled me
to it."

234 Reign of

The King made an impatient gesture, but a shade
passed over his brow ; and as he was about to seat him-
self at table, where he had insisted upon the com-
panionship of the Marquis de Pescara, Bourbon ap-
proached him deferentially, and tendered to him the
finger-napkin as he had formerly done at Amboise.
The King looked him earnestly in the face for a
moment, and then, slightly bending his head, received
it without comment. Monarch as he was, he felt their
relative position, and was too proud to contend against
his conqueror. With a frankness and courage which
did him honour, he discussed with Pescara all the de-
tails of the late battle ; declaring that he did not regret
the effort which he had made to secure his claims, and
that, had all his own army fought at Pavia like the
Marquis and his Basques, he should inevitably have
gained the day. He spoke bitterly, however, of the
defalcation of the Swiss and Italians; asserting that
the military reputation of the former was irretrievably
lost ; while the latter were simply soldiers of parade,
unequal to any thing beyond the mere pageantry of
war. Of himself he said nothing; he had been
worsted, and he felt that all comments upon the past
were idle ; but during the whole of the repast he dis-
cussed the subject as calmly, and with as much ap-
parent indifference, as though his own interests had
not been involved in its result.

When he rose from table, he addressed Pompe-
rant, who had come in the train of M. de Bourbon,
with unaffected warmth. " To you, Sir," he said, " I
owe, if not my life, at least my escape from insult and
You have, I feel, acted upon principle, how-

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Francis I 235

ever it may have misled you, and henceforth the past
shall be forgotten."

Before Pescara withdrew, he assured the King that
the Emperor his master would take no ungenerous
advantage of his success, and pledged himself to exert
all the interest of which he was personally possessed,
to ensure his speedy liberation upon terms consistent
with his high dignity ; and meanwhile he was consigned
to the custody of M. d'Alargon, who had succeeded
Prosper Colonna in the command of the Spanish
infantry.

By a fortunate chance it happened that one of the
Spanish soldiers appointed to the night-guard of the
King on the evening of his arrival at Pizzighittona,
had captured a French gendarme, and being fearful
of the escape of his prisoner should he entrust him to
the custody of a comrade, he had introduced him to
the guardroom, where he could keep an eye upon his
movements. This gentleman, aware that the valets
and other attendants of the monarch had, in their
anxiety to secure their own safety, abandoned their
duty, entreated his captor to permit him to offer his
services to his royal master ; representing the impossi-
bility of his making an undue use of the privilege, and
pledging himself to return when he had fulfilled his
duty. To this proposition, after some demur, the
Spaniard at length acceded ; and with considerable
diffidence the young volunteer presented himself be-
fore the august and embarrassed monarch, and ten-
dered his assistance in his arrangements for the night.
Francis instantly perceived that the intruder was a
Frenchman ; and as he paused upon the threshold of
the chamber, exclaimed hastily — j^ t*ffi:&

236 Reign of

" Before you enter, who are you, Sir ? "

" I am one of the subjects of Your Majesty," was
the reply ; " Antoine des Prez, Seigneur de Montpezat,
gentilhomme de Quercy, a man-at-arms in the com-
pany of the Marechal de Foix; and am the prisoner
of one of your guards."

" I thank you, Sir," said the King ; " but before I
avail myself of your well-timed services, summon your
captor to my presence."

When the Spaniard made his appearance, Francis
inquired the amount of ransom he required for his
prisoner, which, from the fact of Montpezat being a
simple soldier, was necessarily trifling, the worthy
Iberian little suspecting that he was, at that moment,
founding the fortunes of a future marshal of France.

" It is well," said the monarch ; " give him his lib-
erty ; I will be answerable, not only for the sum you
name, but for an increase of a hundred crowns, the
whole of which you shall receive ere long."

The man bowed and retired, overwhelmed with de-
light at his good fortune ; while M. de Montpezat, still
more bewildered by this sudden change in his destiny,
remained in close attendance upon his sovereign, and
soon won his regard and confidence.

Ere long, weary of a confinement so repugnant to
his pride, Francis solicited permission to transmit a
letter to the Emperor, in which he entreated him to
decide upon his future destiny, and threw himself upon
his generosity in a style of supplication certainly not
accordant with his kingly rank ; and which, there can
be little doubt, from the nature of Charles's disposi-
tion, and the bitter enmity he bore towards his worsted

Francis I 237

enemy, afforded him a triumph second only to his
capture.

He nevertheless affected to receive the intelligence
of his unhoped-for success with the most pious humil-
ity ; and after having read the despatches in the midst
of his court, retired to his oratory, where he remained
a considerable time in prayer; finally forbidding all
public demonstrations of rejoicing, and declaring that
his only feeling of exultation arose from the convic-
tion that he should now have leisure and opportunity
to undertake a crusade against the Infidels, by whom
the holy faith of Christendom was endangered.

Charles was too refined a hypocrite to betray his
real feelings to the world.

CHAPTER IX.

Results of the Battle of Pavia — Anguish of Louise de Savoie—
Indignation of Marguerite de Valois — Annihilation of the
French Army — Discontent of the People — Last Interview
of the Due and Duchesse d'Alenqon — Death of the Duke —
The Princes of the Blood — Unpopularity of the Regent —
Her Efforts to Gain the Confidence of the Citizens — Excite-
ment in Paris — Recall of the Troops from Italy — Insurrec-
tion of the German Reformers — They are Dispersed by the
Count de Guise — Requisition of the Parliament — Louise de
Savoie Persecutes the Lutherans — Energy of Marguerite de
Valois in Their Behalf — Her Isolation at Court — Exile of
Madame de Chateaubriand and Diana of Poitiers — Ven-
geance of the Count de Chateaubriand — The Regent En-
deavours to Conciliate the European Powers — Coolness be-
tween France and England — Demands of Henry VIII. —
Craft of Charles V. — Henry VIII. Signs a New Treaty with
France — Oppression of Italy by the Imperial Army — Charles
Concludes a Truce with France — The Ransom of Francis
Discussed in the Emperor's Council — Treachery of Louise de
Savoie — Alarm of the Imperialist Generals — Crooked Policy
of De Lannoy — The Emperor's Envoy — Francis Rejects the
Proposed Conditions for His Liberty — Consents to Proceed
to Spain — Intrigue of De Lannoy — The King Embarks — In-
dignation of Bourbon and Pescara — Francis Arrives in Spain
— Mutiny in the Royal Guard — Suppressed by the King —
Exultation of Charles V. — Francis is Conducted to Madrid,
and Imprisoned in the Alcazar — Indignities Offered to the
Royal Captive — Bourbon Follows the King to Madrid —
238

Francis I 239

Expostulations of Bourbon and Pescara — Mortifications of
Bourbon — Intrigue of Jeromio Morone — The Secret League
— The Offered Crown — Pescara Betrays His Friends — Du-
plicity of Clement VII. and Louise de Savoie — A Sobriquet
— Double-Dealing — Misplaced Confidence — Arrest of Morone
— Dissolution of the League — Death of Pescara — Arrival of
Madame d'Alenqon in Spain — She Visits Her Brother — Her
Distrust of Charles V. — Her Audience — False Faith of the
Emperor — Spirited Remonstrances of the Duchess — Her
Failure — She Endeavours to Effect the Escape of Francis —
A Household Quarrel — The Treacherous Attendant — The
Evasion Prevented — Increased Hardships of the French
King — The Emperor Meditates the Arrest of the Princess
— She is Warned by Bourbon, and Escapes.

THE position of the French kingdom, when the
disastrous intelligence of the defeat at Pavia
reached its shores, was perilous in the extreme. Louise
de Savoie, who, from the first, foreboded an evil issue
to the hazardous enterprise of her son, had removed
to Lyons in order to be early apprised of the opera-
tions in Italy; but, self-possessed as she was, she no
sooner learnt the captivity of Francis, than, throwing
down the despatches, she wrung her hands in agony,
exclaiming — " Alas ! he would not listen to my advice.
He would not regard my warning. And yet I en-
treated him so earnestly not to commit this rashness."

" Madame," said Marguerite de Valois, who stood
beside her, " the King is merely unfortunate, and must
yet redeem himself. M. d'Alen^on is dishonoured,
and has now only to die."

But Madame d'Angouleme could find little conso-
lation in such a conviction. Able as she was in the
science of government, she had, nevertheless, suffered

240 Reign of

her passions to control her judgment, and she knew
that the hearts of the French people were estranged
from her. She had profited by the departure of her
son to carry out many schemes of individual vengeance
and favouritism ; she had commenced a process against
M. de Semblanqay for an imaginary debt to herself,
which he had resisted, and had consigned him to the
Bastille, where he was then lingering out his days ;
she had permitted Duprat to pursue his system of
extortion and tyranny; and now she beheld herself
almost powerless, and beset by difficulty on every side.
Not only was the King a captive, but the voice of
mourning was universal. The highest and noblest of
the land had fallen, and where she might otherwise
have looked for sympathy, it was swallowed up in
private sorrow. Even her high-souled daughter
found the tears which she shed for her brother
quenched by the burning blush of shame elicited by
the cowardice of her husband — that husband who had
been forced upon her by her now suffering mother.
She might have gloried in the greatness of her brother
even in his fall; but she shrank from the disgrace
which had been drawn down upon herself.

The noblest army that France had ever sent forth
was annihilated; the nobility upon which she prided
herself were decimated; her hopes were gone; her
strength was paralysed. The treasury was exhausted,
the population impoverished by taxation, and the de-
struction of the kingdom apparently inevitable. The
moment was a critical one to Louise de Savoie; for
already murmurs arose among the people, who, weary
of her rule, and despairing of the liberation of the

Francis I 241

monarch, began to discuss the claims of the several
Princes of the blood, and to demand another and a
more efficient ruler. Many shouted the name of
Bourbon, and accused the Regent of his defalcation ;
and had Henry VIII. at that crisis listened to the over-
tures of the rebel Duke, and acceded to his demand of
supplies and assistance, no doubt can exist that the
crowns of France and England would have been united
on his head. Henry, however, as we have already
shown, distrusted the ambition of Bourbon, and his
representations were consequently disregarded.

The next in rank was the Due d'Alenc,on; but his
claims were soon silenced. As a fugitive, dishonoured
and disowned, he entered France, and when he reached
Lyons was confronted by his indignant wife, whose
reproaches heaped coals of fire upon his head. He
would have explained, remonstrated, and entreated;
but Marguerite de Valois disdained to listen.

" You have saved your life, Sir," she said with
cutting irony, " your life! — which must hereafter be a
reproach, as it has long been useless both to yourself
and others. You left your King to die; or, more
bitter still, to remain the captive of an enemy — and
you wore a sword. Shame on you, Sir! Shame on
you, that you were afraid to use it! Had I been in
your place, I would have saved you this disgrace ; but
all that I can now do is to refuse to share it. Do not
mistake my tears; they do not fall for you, but for
myself. I am compelled to bear your name, while my
heart loathes it; but that is all the union which from
this hour can exist between us. Even as you forsook
my gallant brother in his hour of need, do I forsake
Vol. II.— 16

242 Reign of

you in my turn. Henceforth we are strangers to each
other."

In another month the Due d'Alenqon was in his
grave.

The third Prince of the blood was M. de Vendome,
then Governor of Picardy, who, although he had re-
mained true to the royal cause, was nevertheless
suspected of maintaining a correspondence with his
cousin the Due de Bourbon ; but still the majority of
the people, exasperated by the supremacy of Duprat,
and the evil use which he had made of his influence
over the Regent, looked to Vendome as their deliverer
from utter ruin ; and declared that the kingdom would
be safer in his hands than in those of a foreign woman.
Even sundry members of the parliament espoused his
cause against Louise de Savoie, and pledged them-
selves to support his pretensions ; while the Regent
herself, aware of her utter incapacity to allay the popu-
lar discontent, was no sooner apprised of his arrival
in France, after having entrusted his command in
Picardy to M. de Brienne, than she appointed him
president of the council. At this juncture she evinced,
moreover, a judgment and decision which almost re-
deemed her previous errors. She convoked meetings
of the Princes of the blood, the governors of prov-
inces, and other influential functionaries, with whom
she discussed the necessary measures for the restora-
tion of the monarch and the security of the kingdom ;
she also took active measures to regulate and protect
the public finances ; and, finally, she treated the parlia-
ment with a respect and deference to which they had
long been unaccustomed.

Francis I 243

The excitement in Paris was, nevertheless, fearful.
On the first news of the King's captivity, the parliament
summoned the Archbishop of Aix, the governor of
the capital, and the principal municipal officers, to
devise measures for the safety of the city ; when it was
determined that only five of the gates should remain
open, and that a constant guard should be maintained,
in which the counsellors were to act in concert with
the citizens. Chains were stretched across the river,
while others were prepared to close the streets; and
the veteran warrior Montmorenci, whose two sons had
fought at Pavia, (where the elder still remained a
prisoner,) was summoned to Paris to take the com-
mand. The panic spread throughout the kingdom ;
all the principal towns followed the example given by
the metropolis; public prayers were offered up for
deliverance from an enemy whom each believed to be
approaching ; and the national terror was at its height.
These pious orisons were, however, intermingled in the
churches of the capital, with the denunciations which
many of the preachers fulminated against the Regent
from their pulpits; while anonymous writings were
scattered about the different thoroughfares, in which
she, in conjunction with the Chancellor, were accused
as the authors of the present misery, and the people
were earnestly called upon to resist her authority.

The remnant of that splendid army with which
Francis had so proudly taken the field, was all the
military force which now remained to France ; and
constant desertions had, even since the defeat at Pavia,
considerably reduced its already inconsequent num-
bers. The troops were, however, recalled without

244 Reign of

delay ; but as they were unable to traverse Italy, owing
to its occupation by the imperialists, galleys were de-
spatched from Marseilles to Civita Vecchia, under the
command of Andrea Doria* and La Fayette, to facili-
tate their return. The first measure of the Regent
upon the arrival of the exhausted army, was to pay
off all their arrears, which at once secured their fidel-
ity ; and she wisely followed up this act of justice by
ransoming such of the prisoners still remaining in
the hands of the enemy as were unable to liberate
themselves.

Meanwhile an insurrection which threatened to in-
volve important consequences had broken out upon
the German frontier, where a fanatical and disorderly
body of fifteen thousand men had taken up arms and
marched upon the provinces of Burgundy and Cham-
pagne. Under the pretext of protecting and enforc-
ing the rights of the reformed religion, which in reality
impressed upon them the necessity of " peace and good
will towards men," they committed the most fearful
outrages; insisting that the precepts of the Church
should govern the national policy, and meanwhile dis-
gracing the cause which they affected to uphold by

* Andrea Doria, born in 1468, at Oncilla, near Genoa, embraced the
profession of arms, and entered the navy in the year 1492, when he dis-
tinguished himself against the Turks, the Moors, and the Levantine
pirates. While in the service of Francis I., he defeated the fleet of
Charles V. on the shores of Provence, and compelled the imperialists
to raise the siege of Marseilles. To him France was also indebted for
the reduction of Genoa in 1527. Worn out at length by the contempt of
the French, and the ungracious return made for his services, he passed
over to the Emperor; drove the French from Genoa, where he refused
to accept the title of doge; defeated the Turks, whom he compelled to
evacuate Hungary and Austria; and possessed himself of the island of
Corsica. Towards the close of his life, two several conspiracies were
formed against him, both of which, however, failed; and he finally died
at the advanced age of ninety-three years.

Francis I 245

every description of violence and excess. Their career
was, however, speedily terminated by the energy of the
Comte de Guise; who, having raised a force of six
thousand men, gave them battle, and so entirely routed
their army, most of whom perished in the engagement,
that they were unable to rally or to effect a second
demonstration.

The result of this gallant enterprise tended greatly
to allay the national panic, and many who had before
utterly despaired, began to form brighter hopes of the
future ; but the promptitude, and even the success, of
M. de Guise excited the indignation of the Regent,
who reproached him bitterly for having withdrawn
from the capital the troops by which it was protected.
By the parliament, however, the signal service which
he had rendered to his country was fully estimated;
nor did they hesitate (when Louise de Savoie de-
spatched two of her counsellors to declare to them
that the King had expressed his pleasure that she
should take up her abode in the capital with his chil-
dren), to declare that all the misfortunes which had
recently occurred had been brought upon the king-
dom by the indulgence that had been shown to the
Lutherans, whose utter extermination they required
at her hands ; they also subjoined other demands, such
as the abolition of financial abuses, impossible to be
accorded at a moment when the exigencies of the king-
dom were necessarily augmented by its unhappy
position. Madame d'Angouleme consequently tem-
porized with the parliament by pledging herself to
persecute the unfortunate reformers ; and as an earnest
of her sincerity, caused a learned man named Jacques

246 Reign of

Pavanes, who had been invited from his own province
of Bourbonnais to Meaux by the Bishop of that place,
in consequence of his great attainments, to be ar-
rested ; and having put him upon his trial as a Luth-
eran convert, she suffered him to be burned alive in
the Place de Greve. A second execution shortly fol-
lowed, of which the victim was a reformer known as
the Hermit of Livry, who underwent the same appall-
ing sentence in front of the cathedral of Notre Dame,
the great bell tolling throughout the whole period of
the tragedy, in order to assemble the people to the
hideous spectacle. The firmness and piety with which
the holy martyr endured his dying agonies were, how-
ever, so remarkable, that it is probable the effect pro-
duced upon the witnesses was very different from that
which had been desired.

The anguish of mind endured during these frightful
enormities by the Duchesse d'Alenqon was unbounded.
Even her anxiety for her absent brother, and her mor-
tification at the pusillanimity of her husband, were for
a time forgotten. From the year 1523, when the
persecution of the Lutherans commenced, she had
openly declared herself, if not their convert, at least
their advocate. Her efforts in their favour had been
unceasing ; and on several occasions she had incurred
the displeasure of the King by her persevering
remonstrances. So determined, indeed, was she to
protect, in so far as she was able, those who were
suffering for their adherence to the new faith, that
she resented as a personal insult the arrest of her
valet-de-chambre, Clement Marot, the poet, who hav-
ing been convicted of eating meat during Lent,

Francis I 247

had been committed to prison ; and in defiance of the
Sorbonne and the inquisitor himself, she insisted upon,
and obtained his release. It may therefore be imag-
ined with what bitter sorrow she was compelled to
witness the frightful acts of cruelty, which, instigated
as they were by mere considerations of state policy,
were nevertheless attributed to religious zeal. By her
secret, but efficient aid, the celebrated Guillaume Farel
was enabled to escape to Geneva, where he became
a powerful preacher ; and Jacques Fabri, one of the
most learned doctors of the Sorbonne, who had also
embraced the reformed faith, was preserved from the
flames, and ultimately pardoned.

While, however, she exulted in the partial success
which crowned her righteous efforts, she had still only
too much cause for grief. A great and undisguised
coldness had grown up between herself and her
mother, who resented her interference; and she had
no longer about her person those friends and counsel-
lors in whom she might have found consolation.
Bourbon, the only man whom she had ever loved, was
an attainted rebel in arms against his country. De
Semblancay, to whom, like Francis himself, she had
borne a strong affection, was a prisoner in the Bastille ;
and one of the Regent's first acts of power had been
to banish from the court her two chosen companions,
Madame de Chateaubriand and Diana de Poitiers. To
the first of these ladies, Marguerite de Valois, who
was, as we have already stated, singularly indulgent
to the frailties of her sex, particularly where the weak-
ness ministered to the pleasures of her licentious but
idolized brother, was tenderly attached ; and aware as

248 Reign of

she was of the violent character of the injured husband
to whose guardianship the Countess had been con-
signed by Madame d'Angouleme on her dismissal
from the court, her mind was filled with the most
gloomy forbodings.

These, as the result proved, were by no means un-
reasonable ; for while the aged and solitary Louis de
Breze received back his young and lovely wife, of
whose fidelity he had rather feared than doubted, with
a warm welcome which might have tended to arrest
her in a career of profligacy, M. de Chateaubriand, on
the contrary, greeted his guilty consort with the most
bitter reproaches. Regardless alike of her tears and
her attempts at explanation, he overwhelmed her with
insult, reminding her that if he afforded the shelter of
his roof to the mistress of the King, he merely ac-
corded refuge to a criminal, and not a home to a wife.
This change of position was so sudden and so violent,
that whatever had been the misgivings of the Countess
during her enforced journey, the reality so far outran
her anticipations that, guilty as she was, she writhed
beneath the intemperate passion of her offended hus-
band, and the extremity of her terror lent her strength.

" You are mad, sir," she said, indignantly ; " I am
but what you yourself have made me. Young, and ig-
norant of the world, you summoned me to a court where
I was beset by temptations, and where you abandoned
me to my fate. Your own cruelty and injustice forced
me to dishonour ; and now you seek to visit upon me
the consequences of your imprudence. In obedience
to your commands I left my home, and in accordance
with those of the King I remained at court. The
result you must have foreseen."

Francis I 249

" Madame," retorted the Count indignantly, " you
know the falsehood of your assertion. Learn, also,
that you are infamous, not only in my eyes, but in
those of the whole nation."

" Enough, sir, enough ! " exclaimed the trembling
woman, as she buried her face in her hands ; " you fol-
low up one cowardice by another; and have courage
to avenge what you designate your wounded honour
only when you know that I am defenceless."

" It is a lesson taught me by yourself," was the bitter
retort ; " the protection of a monarch rendered you
indifferent to the wrongs of a husband ; but Providence
is just, and you have no longer that monarch at your
side to dispute my claims. We will not, however,
waste more words upon a subject too hateful for dis-
cussion. Your apartments are prepared, and you
must allow me to act as your usher."

As he ceased speaking, he extended his hand ; and
the Countess, still more anxious than himself to termi-
nate so painful an interview, placed her own within it,
and suffered him to lead her from the room. At the
end of a long gallery he paused, and throwing back
the door of a sequestered chamber, desired her to
enter. On the threshold she paused with a cry of
terror, and would have retreated, but it was already
too late. The Count forcibly drew her forward ; and
she found herself in a spacious apartment, hung with
black serge, in which the whole furniture consisted of
a curtainless bed, a wooden chair, and a small statue
of the Magdalen affixed to the wall; while, as if to
deepen the gloom of this repelling prison, all the win-
dows had been carefully closed, and the only light by

250 Reign of

which it was illumined was dimly admitted through a
sky-light constructed in the roof. Such was the new
abode of the royal favourite — of the proud mistress
who had dared a rivalry of power with the mother of
her sovereign — of the minion of fortune, who had long
taught herself to forget the disgraceful price at which
she had purchased her supremacy, and who had been
accustomed to see the proudest nobles of a brilliant
court at her feet. She was alone — alone with her
brightest and her most bitter memories. She had no
resource save the agonizing one of thought; for the
companionship of the child, whom she had wilfully
abandoned, she did not dare to ask ; the attendance
which was accorded to her was limited, and rendered
in silence ; her only nourishment, the felon's meal of
bread and water; and, meanwhile, she knew that he
who had once idolized her was beneath the same roof ;
that there was life and movement about her while she
was shut out alike from all sight and sound of her
fellow-beings, save for a few brief instants daily ; and
that he who might, and, as she fondly believed, would
have avenged her, was a captive in a distant land, as
powerless, if not as wretched, as herself.

The persecution of the Lutherans, active as it was,
did not suffice to occupy the whole attention of the
Regent, who made the most energetic efforts to pro-
pitiate all the European potentates, whose influence
might conduce to the liberation of her son; nor did
she omit a strenuous attempt to conciliate the Emperor
himself, whose apparent moderation and unostenta-
tious humility deceived even her sagacity ; while she
laboured at the same time to produce a misunder-

Francis I 251

standing between such of the powers as were avowedly
the enemies of France. Circumstances had combined
to aid her policy upon this point ; for, even before the
battle of Pavia, a coldness had arisen between Henry
VIII. and Charles, to which the kingdom of Francis,
in all probability, owed its integral preservation. It
is at least certain that, had the English monarch main-
tained his alliance with the Emperor, and attacked the
French forces in Picardy during their reverses beyond
the Alps, the exhausted and helpless position of the
country must have rendered its conquest an easy one ;
but Wolsey had at length lost all faith in the specious
and hollow promises of Charles, and considered him-
self personally aggrieved ; while Henry resented the
insult offered to his daughter, to whom the Emperor,
as we have already stated, had betrothed himself, by
the fact that that potentate had recently demanded the
hand of Isabella of Portugal, wilfully overlooking the
fact that he had, on his side, endeavoured to effect an
alliance between the affianced Princess Mary and the
King of Scotland. Both sovereigns had, moreover,
failed to observe the treaty by which they were pledged
to a simultaneous invasion of the French territories ;
and each, forgetful or careless of his own failure, was
loud in condemning that of his ally.

Under these circumstances the English King re-
plied to the communication of the Emperor which
conveyed to him the intelligence of the victory of
Pavia, by advancing claims which were well calculated
to produce a rupture between the two countries. He
insisted that Charles should not enter into any treaty
with Francis which did not favour his own preten-

252 Reign of

sions to the French crown ; that he should immediately
march his army into the French territories ; and that
the person of the captive monarch should be delivered
into his own custody, in accordance with a clause in
the treaty into which they had severally entered, and
by which each sovereign bound himself to deliver over
to his ally any prince taken in rebellion against the
opposite party.

To demands of so arrogant a nature as these he had,
of course, never anticipated that the victorious Em-
peror would accede ; but Charles was nevertheless too
wary to express his sense of their presumption. His
reply was guarded and evasive ; and Henry, impatient
of a policy whose results could never be anticipated,
at length invited Madame d'Angouleme to despatch
ambassadors to his court with whom he might nego-
tiate. Accordingly, two plenipotentiaries were ap-
pointed, entrusted with full powers to effect a de-
fensive alliance between France and England ; and
instructed, if possible, to detach Henry at any price
from the interests of Charles. Predisposed to a change
of policy, the English King readily listened to their
arguments ; alienated himself from the cause of the
Emperor; and finally, on the 30th of August, (1525,)
signed a new treaty of alliance with Francis, wherein
the latter acknowledged himself the debtor of the
English King in the sum of two millions of golden
crowns, which he engaged to pay within twenty years,
at the rate of a hundred thousand crowns yearly ; and
the arrears of income due to the Dowager-Queen, the
widow of Louis XII., were at the same time regulated.

While these measures were in operation, the Italian

Francis I 253

states were overrun by the victorious army of Charles,
and were suffering all the horrors of foreign domi-
nation. Intoxicated by success, demoralized by re-
laxed discipline, destitute of pecuniary resources, and
rendered arrogant by impunity, the imperialist troops
had become the scourge of the whole country. They
had exacted heavy sums from the Duke of Ferrara and
the Republic of Lucca, and even demanded fresh sup-
plies from the Pope and the Venetians ; while their
principal officers did not hesitate openly to declare
the resolution of the Emperor to possess himself of
the whole of Italy. In this emergency the Venetians
despatched an ambassador to England, who was in-
structed to impress upon Henry VIII. the necessity
of preserving the equilibrium of Europe ; and the Pope,
anxious to protect himself against the threatened ag-
gression, caused his apostolical datary to write to his
nuncio in London, instructing him to join in the
league.

This circumstance decided the measures of Charles,
who ultimately replied to the envoys of Louise de
Savoie by conceding a truce of six months, which were
to be devoted to the negotiations for the liberation of
Francis ; of which the terms were forthwith debated
in the imperial councils. With a moderation and
generosity which did credit to his sacred profession,
the Bishop of Osma* suggested that the captive mon-
arch should be at once restored to liberty on the sole
condition of his marrying the widowed Queen Eleo-
nora, whose hand had been promised to Bourbon ; a
step by which the Emperor would secure a firm ally,

* The confessor of the Emperor.

254 Reign of

and win the admiration of all Europe ; but this advice
suited neither the vindictiveness of Charles, nor the
jealousy of his friends, and was at once overruled. The
imperial Chancellor then voted for the perpetual im-
prisonment of the unfortunate young King ; a measure
by which the Emperor would definitively rid himself
of a dangerous enemy, and be enabled to undertake his
crusade against the Turks without a rival to his glory.
This suggestion, however, flattering as was the pros-
pect so skilfully held out, by no means satisfied such
of the council as were anxious for the degradation of
France ; and finally the advice of the Duke of Alva *
was adopted, which was to demand an enormous sum
as the personal ransom of Francis ; and, moreover, to
exact conditions of a nature so rigorous as to cripple
his power, impoverish his resources, and recruit the
exhausted finances of the empire.

While these deliberations were proceeding, Louise
de Savoie was not idle, but endeavoured to ingratiate
herself with the Emperor by betraying the allies whom
she had seduced by her promises. She was anxious
to inspire him with apprehensions for the safety of
Italy, trusting that by this treacherous policy she
might compel more favourable terms for the ransom
of her son. Once more, however, she was deluded by

•Fernando Alvarez de Toledo, Duke of Alba, was the representative
of an illustrious Spanish family. He gained for Charles V. (in 1547) the
battle of Muhlberg against the Elector of Saxony, and was appointed
governor of Milan in 1555. Philip II. made him, in the following yean,
the governor of the Low Countries, which revolted against his despotism
and cruelty. He consequently resigned his charge in 1573, and died nine
years subsequently, at the advanced age of eighty. He had caused, dur-
ing his career, the execution of 18,000 individuals; and excited a war
which lasted throughout sixty-eight years, cost Spain eight hundred
millions of crowns, and finally deprived her of seven Flemi-sh provinces.

Francis I 255

her hopes ; for Charles was even better informed than
herself of the events which were in progress; and so
well aware of the importance of the advantage he had
gained, that although he did not scruple to avail him-
self of her bad faith, and even courteously to acknowl-
edge his sense of the obligation, he never wavered for
an instant in his intentions.

His generals in Italy were, however, less confident
than himself. The old jealousies had been revived ;
their three chiefs no longer acted in unison ; the sol-
diers mutinied for their arrears of pay; the Italians
were ripe for revolt against their oppressors, and there
was reason to apprehend that they would attempt to
effect the liberation of the still unransomed prisoners.
A double guard, commanded by Pescara and Bour-
bon, was consequently placed about the person of the
French King, and every precaution taken to prevent
a surprise ; but Francis had near his person a more
insidious enemy than either the rebel Duke or the
Spanish general. Lannoy, the favourite of Charles,
who however inferior to both in military talent far
exceeded them in subtlety, aware that the royal cap-
tive could never be wholly in the power of his con-
queror until within the Spanish frontier, had resolved
to effect his removal without the knowledge of his
unsuspecting colleagues; and he constantly laboured
to impress upon Francis the great advantage which
must accrue from his evincing a perfect confidence in
the Emperor, and soliciting a removal to Madrid,
where they might personally confer together.

Weary of his dreary prison at Pizzighittona, and
thirsting for some relief to the monotony of his ex-

256 Reign of

istence, the young King listened readily to the specious
representations and arguments of his false adviser;
and he was yet wavering, when the arrival of M. de
Beaurain, Seigneur de Rceux,* was announced to him,
with despatches from the Emperor. The envoy was
at once admitted, and with a hasty gesture Francis
tore open the packet ; but the hot blood rushed to his
cheek as he examined its contents, and he had no
sooner ceased reading than he drew his dagger from
its sheath, and vehemently exclaimed that he would
sooner meet death from his own hand than submit to
conditions which involved the degradation and ruin
of his kingdom.

M. d'Alargon, who was present at the interview,
alarmed by the passionate attitude of his prisoner, and
apprehensive that in the first burst of his indignation
he might carry his threat into execution, seized his
arm and besought him to calm himself ; but it was long
ere the unfortunate monarch could be appeased ; and
as he hurriedly paced the apartment he repeated bit-
terly and incessantly the terms proposed by the Em-
peror. They were, indeed, crushing alike to his hopes
as an individual, and to his dignity as a sovereign ;
and such as Charles could never anticipate would be
accepted. He required of Francis to cede his claims
upon both Naples and Milan ; to relinquish the Duchy
of Burgundy, and his sovereignty over Flanders and

* M. de Rceux was the cup-bearer of the Emperor, and a man of con-
siderable military reputation, who had risen to high rank through the
influence of his imperial master. His hatred to the French nation was
intense, and he was accustomed to declare that he considered every
moment lost in which he was not engaged against them. He was ulti-
mately made prisoner before Naples by Filippo Doria.

Francis I 257

Artois; to effect a reconciliation with the Due de
Bourbon, and to detach in his favour from the crown
of France the whole of Provence and the other terri-
tories formerly possessed by the ex-Connetable, which
were to form a separate kingdom under that Prince;
and, finally, to make full compensation for all the
claims of the King of England upon the Emperor.

Deluded as he had been by the apparent moderation
of Charles into the belief that his liberation would have
involved no ruin upon his country, the disappointment
and mortification of Francis amounted to despair ; and
it was only after having vented the agony of his spirit
that he could command sufficient self-possession to
make the reply for which the envoy still waited ; but
at length he paused, and said coldly and proudly —

" I will not detain you longer, Sir. Return to the
Emperor your master, and tell him that never, so long
as I have life, will I submit to the degradation of com-
plying with such conditions as those of which you have
been the bearer. Here is my final and irrevocable
answer. I will accept the hand of the Queen his sister ;
and I will bestow upon the Due de Bourbon that of
the Duchesse d'Alenqon, restoring to him upon his
marriage all his former possessions. I will, more-
over, discharge the engagements of the Emperor with
the King of England, pay a heavy personal ransom,
and furnish troops when he shall proceed to Rome for
his coronation. More than this I will not concede,
though I remain a prisoner till the day of doom."

At his next interview with M. de Lannoy, Francis
inveighed bitterly against the insult which had been
offered to him by Charles ; and the Viceroy seized so
Vol. II.— 17

258 Reign of

favourable an opportunity to urge the acceptance of the
proposition which he had already submitted to the
royal prisoner, that he should at once proceed to Spain,
and treat personally with the Emperor ; assuring him
that when all extraneous influence was removed, a
treaty satisfactory to both parties would soon be ac-
complished.

At once sanguine and confiding, Francis readily fell
into the snare ; but Lannoy had still many difficulties
to overcome. In order to reach Spain it was neces-
sary to cross a sea upon which the fleet of Andrea
Doria and the galleys of La Fayette were greatly su-
perior both in strength and numbers to the navy of
the Emperor ; while De Lannoy was equally reluctant
to trust his prisoner within the walls of Marseilles, lest
he should be liberated by the people. He had, there-
fore, no alternative but to extract a pledge from Fran-
cis that he would not avail himself of any such attempt,
but proceed in his custody to Spain, whatever demon-
strations might be made by his subjects. The pledge
was given, bitter as it must have been to the high-
hearted young monarch ; and the wily Viceroy had
subsequently little difficulty in persuading him to de-
spatch Montmorenci (who still remained a prisoner),
to the Regent, with instructions to forward six of his
galleys as hostages to Genoa, and to disarm the re-
mainder. The Marechal departed on his ill-omened
errand ; and the next step taken by De Lannoy was to
induce his two colleagues to remove the King from
Pizzighittona to Genoa, under the guard of M. d'Alar-
cpn, as to a place of greater safety.

Unsuspicious of his purpose, and anxious to ensure

Francis I 259

the safekeeping of their prisoner, both Bourbon and
Pescara were easily persuaded to adopt this apparently
politic measure ; and, accordingly, towards the end of
May, the King left the fortress under an escort of three
hundred lances and four thousand infantry. He had
not long reached Genoa, however, ere De Lannoy
suddenly effected his embarkation, announcing his in-
tention of conveying him to Naples ; in which direction
he steered until he encountered the six French galleys
which he was to detain as hostages, under the guard
of Spanish soldiers ; but having seen these troops on
board the several French vessels, he once more set sail
on the 7th of June, for Spain, where at the termination
of the voyage, he deposited his prisoner in the fortress
of Xativa, in Valencia.

Only a few days subsequent to their landing, a
tumult broke out in the royal guard, who clamoured
for their arrears of pay, and uttered such threats
against De Lannoy, that in order to secure his per-
sonal safety he was compelled to make his escape over
the roofs of the adjacent houses; while the troops,
exasperated by his apparent disregard of their claims,
discharged their fire-arms at the windows, and nar-
rowly escaped wounding the King, several of the balls
having entered the apartment which he occupied.
Undismayed by the danger, Francis at once ap-
proached a window, and with firm and dignified affa-
bility expostulated with the mutineers, scattering some
money among them, and representing the- dangerous
result of such a demonstration to. themselves. Had
he, observes Brantome, taken advantage of their en-
thusiasm at that moment, he might in all probability

260 Reign of

have induced them to make sail with him to France ;
but, tempting as the opportunity undoubtedly was,
Francis had pledged his royal word to De Lannoy
that he would make no attempt at evasion: and this
consideration alone must have caused him to reject
the project, had it even occurred to him.

Nothing could exceed the exultation of Charles
when he ascertained that his defeated rival was safely
lodged in a Spanish fortress, and entirely in his power ;
for, although he affected the greatest sympathy in his
misfortunes, and strictly forbade any public rejoicings
at his own success, the honours and rewards which he
lavished upon De Lannoy were sufficient evidence of
his real feelings. He immediately despatched an order
to the Viceroy to proceed to Madrid with his prisoner ;
but instead of receiving him in person, as had been
anticipated by Francis, he remained at Toledo, as if
unconscious of his arrival in his dominions. Nor was
this mortification lessened by the fact, that instead of
the honourable treatment which he had been led to
expect, he found himself a close prisoner, constantly
attended by M. d'Alar<;on, and only permitted to leave
the castle occasionally for exercise, mounted upon a
sluggish mule, and surrounded by an armed guard.
The treachery of De Lannoy could no longer be
doubted, and while the arrogant Viceroy was reaping
the rich reward of his double-dealing, the unhappy
monarch found himself the dupe of his own overween-
ing confidence.

Exhausted by disappointment, self-upraiding, and
regret ; wounded in his pride, outraged in his dignity,
and deceived on every side, the spirit of Francis at

Francis I 261

length gave way, and he became seriously indisposed.
Seven months of weariness and restraint had already
passed, and he had never once had an interview with
the Emperor; while so closely was he watched that
he could not utter a word or receive a communication
which was not overheard and registered. The
strength of the old castle in which he was confined
might have appeared a sufficient guarantee for his
safety, but it was evident that every precaution and
constraint which could add to his annoyance was in-
dustriously superadded. None had access to him save
by the sanction of the Emperor himself, and every
pretext was seized for withholding it. Every one who
approached him was a spy, and his requests were met
by a cold indifference which compelled him to keep
silence.

The agony of mind endured by the Duchesse d'Alen-
con during this period was intense. She had actively
urged forward the negotiations for his release, and
more than once flattered herself that the termination
of his captivity was at hand; but Charles V. never
failed to find some excuse for delay, and as communi-
cation between the two countries had been rendered
extremely difficult by the jealous policy of the Em-
peror, it was at last almost by accident that the intelli-
gence of the King's illness was made known in France.

The first rumour which reached the court was that
of his death, and for several days the most fearful un-
certainty prevailed; but eventually the truth was
ascertained, and Marguerite de Valois was no sooner
assured that he still lived than she applied for a safe-
conduct, and permission to reside in Spain during two

262 Reign of

months. In vain was she reminded of the bad faith
of Charles, and of the probability of his being unable
to resist the temptation of securing another prisoner
of such importance, and thus increasing his already
extortionate demands of ransom ; no argument could
withhold her. Since the disgrace of her husband, she
had lived only in her brother — the life of that idolized
brother was in peril — and with the heroism of a true
woman's heart, she did not suffer one thought of self
to militate against her purpose. Thus the guarantee
which she had asked was no sooner reluctantly con-
ceded, than she made instant preparations for com-
mencing her journey. Before she could reach Madrid,
however, the low fever which was consuming the King
had increased to so alarming a degree, that the phy-
sicians who were in attendance upon him ventured to
announce to the Emperor that, unless some means were
adopted to arouse him from the lethargy into which
he was rapidly sinking, it would be impossible to save
his life.

This report greatly alarmed the selfish Charles, who,
however little interest he had shown in his captive,
was keenly alive to the enormous loss which he should
sustain by his death ; and he accordingly resolved to
visit him, and to inspire hopes which might give a new
impulse to his mind. On learning his intention, the
Chancellor Mercurio Gattinara endeavoured to dis-
suade him from his purpose, alleging that, should he
persist in such a resolution, his own honour and dig-
nity would compel him to release Francis at once and
unconditionally ; but Charles was unable or unwilling
to recognize this necessity, and he accordingly pro-

Francis I 263

ceeded to the Alcazar without loss of time, and ap-
proached the bed of the dying monarch with a smile
of courtesy and kindness upon his lips.

Francis had no sooner recognised his visitor, than,
although in a state of great exhaustion, he made an
effort to raise himself to a sitting posture, murmuring
faintly : " Your Majesty is then come at last to see
your prisoner expire."

" Do not say my prisoner," was the bland reply ;
" but rather my brother and my friend. Have faith in
me, for I have exerted all my energies to accomplish
your liberation, which will speedily be effected."

The royal invalid, deluded by his own hopes, listened
with avidity ; a long and apparently friendly conversa-
tion ensued ; and when the imperial hypocrite at length
prepared to depart, he uttered the most earnest en-
treaties that Francis would be careful of his health,
and not aggravate his disease by anxieties which were
groundless. The effect of this assurance was electri-
cal ; the recovery of the King was accelerated by his
brightened prospects; and he began to look forward
with confidence to an early return to France.

The exasperation of the two baffled generals whom
the wily diplomatist had outwitted, was beyond all
bounds. Bourbon at once proceeded to Madrid, for
the double purpose of urging his claims and prevent-
ing any treaty with Francis in which he was not in-
cluded, and of exposing the base deceit of De Lannoy,
whom he accused in the imperial presence of perfidy
and cowardice; while Pescara in his turn addressed
an intemperate letter to the Emperor, in which he
complained that the Viceroy had hurried to Spain to

264 Reign of

receive the applause of a victory, and to exhibit the
French King as his prisoner, when he had neither
contributed to the one, nor taken the other ; but had,
on the contrary, endeavoured to evade the battle, in
which he had, moreover, shown such cowardice that
he had trembled with terror, and constantly exclaimed
that all was lost. In conclusion he declared him to be
a poltroon and a traitor; and asserted that he was
ready to prove it upon his body.

These representations, however, produced no effect
upon Charles; while the distrust felt by the haughty
Castilian nobility towards Bourbon induced them
rather to exult in the craft of De Lannoy than to con-
demn it. So great, indeed, was the contempt which
they professed for him, that, when the Marquis de Vil-
lana was applied to by the Emperor to lend his palace
to the ex-Connetable, who had been unable to secure
a commodious residence, he replied coldly : " I can
refuse nothing to your imperial Majesty ; M. de Bour-
bon may inhabit my palace if it be your pleasure that
he shall do so; but I pledge my word as a Castilian,
that when he sees fit to vacate it, I will burn it to the
ground rather than again take shelter under a roof
which has been polluted by the presence of a traitor."

The position of the rebel Duke was bitter in the
extreme. His claims met with no attention ; his ser-
vices were disregarded ; and he found himself an object
of suspicion and dislike to all around him. The Em-
peror treated him with the most chilling indifference ;
and the French King, when he was occasionally ad-
mitted to his presence, with an exaggerated courtesy
which betrayed his want of confidence. Charles felt

Francis I 265

that he had no longer anything to fear from the once
powerful Duke, and Francis had lost faith in his
honour.

Meanwhile Pescara, who had now the sole com-
mand of the army in Italy, did not affect to conceal his
discontent. He had served the Emperor with zeal and
fidelity, and the injustice by which he was now re-
warded aroused within him the recollection1 that he
was an Italian, and that he was even at that moment
labouring to destroy the liberties of his country. Un-
like Bourbon, he found many to sympathise with him ;
and his exasperation became at length so violent that
Jeromio Morone, the Chancellor of Francisco Sforza,
and one of the boldest and most able diplomatists of
the age, who had for some time been planning a secret
league against the Emperor which was to embrace
France, England, Florence, and Venice, confided his
project to Pescara ; and informed him that, on condi-
tion of his disbanding the imperial army, which alone
could prevent its success, these powers were ready to
confer upon him the crown of Naples.

The temptation was great ; all the plans of Morone
were matured ; and the Regent of France had pledged
herself to march an army into Lombardy to support
the independence of Italy. Pescara listened, and for a
time wavered ; but it is probable that his hesitation was
brief, as Charles was ere long warned of his danger
by the Marquis himself, who revealed to him that a
conspiracy had been formed against his authority, of
which he would furnish all the details when he had
ascertained the identity of its authors.

Nor was Pescara the only individual who volun-

266 Reign of

teered this revelation ; Clement VII., although in-
volved in the plot, having written to inspire him with
misgivings of the fidelity of his principal officers, from
what motive does not appear ; while Louise de Savoie
availed herself of the safe-conduct conceded to her
daughter to forward letters to the Emperor, in which
she represented that, if he did not desire to see the
whole of Europe in arms against him, he must modify,
if not entirely withdraw, his claims on France.

To this last communication Charles returned, as was
his wont, a cold and evasive reply ; fully maintaining
his right to the sobriquet which the French wits, who
never fail to create a mot even from their misfortunes,
had bestowed on him of Charles qui triche; a some-
what lame play upon his familiar appellation of Charles
d'Autriclie. To Pescara, however, he vouchsafed a
different answer ; assuring him that, although doubts
had been suggested of his loyalty, he had never per-
sonally entertained them ; and instructing him to main-
tain a perfect understanding with the conspirators,
betraying neither coldness nor suspicion, but affect-
ing an inclination to avail himself of the overtures
made to him by Francisco Sforza, while he suffered
no means to escape by which the discovery of the real
culprits might be accomplished. Acting upon this
suggestion, Pescara invited Morone to visit him at
Novarra, and upon his arrival concealed da Leyva
behind the tapestried hangings of the apartment in
which the interview was to take place.

This perfidious arrangement effected, he over-
whelmed the Chancellor with questions ; declaring that
he could not commit himself to any measure of which

Francis I 267

he did not thoroughly comprehend both the motives
and the identity of the authors ; assuming, meanwhile,
so determined an attitude, that Morone, who feared
that he might abandon the cause of the league, at
length entered into the most minute details, among
which was the meditated assassination of da Leyva,
his unsuspected auditor. At the conclusion of the
conference, the Marquis parted from his visitor with
calm courtesy ; but as he was about to leave the house
he was encountered by da Leyva, who at once arrested
him in the name of the Emperor.

The capture of Morone, and the important dis-
closures by which it had been preceded, necessarily
put an immediate stop to the conspiracy ; the imperial-
ists took possession of the fortresses in the Milanese ;
and Sforza made instant preparations for a desperate,
although almost hopeless, defence; notwithstanding
that he was at that moment suffering from fever of so
virulent a nature that his death was anticipated.
Nothing, therefore, appeared to oppose the entire con-
quest of the duchy; and Charles already anticipated
this result, when news of the sudden demise of Pes-
cara reached Spain. Popular rumour ascribed his
death to poison, and it is certain that the act of treach-
ery of which he had been guilty had excited against
him the hatred of all the Italian Princes, who had
vowed vengeance upon his perfidious dealing. Be this
as it might, however, the brave Pescara, whose career
had hitherto been untarnished, but who had now sullied
his name with a stain which could never be effaced,
expired at the early age of six-and-thirty ; not on the
field of honour, and surrounded by sympathy and ad-

268 Reign of

miration, but supinely in his bed, the object of execra-
tion and reproach. During his last moments he
confided the care of his wife Victoria Colonna, and his
Spanish troops, to the Marquis del Guasto his cousin,
who inherited his estates ; and on the 30th of Novem-
ber, 1525, terminated his brief, and, with one excep-
tion, glorious career.

Meanwhile the Duchesse d'Alenqon, having em-
barked at Aigues-Mortes, landed at Barcelona, and
proceeded at once to Madrid, where she was met on
entering the gates by the Emperor, who proposed to
escort her in person to the residence of her brother ;
a courtesy which she was compelled to accept, al-
though well aware that it was dictated rather by policy
than kindness. She accordingly mounted a fresh
palfrey which had been prepared for her, and without
waiting to throw off her travelling dress, rode through
the streets of the city at the right hand of Charles, who
was attended by a brilliant suite. At this interview
the tenderness of the woman so completely masked
the vigour of the diplomatist, that even the wily Em-
peror formed a false estimate of her character. He had,
during their ride to the Alcazar, given her the most
cheering assurances of the recovery of Francis; but
Marguerite no sooner entered his apartment, threw
herself into his arms, and listened to the faltering tones
of his voice, than she became aware how easily she had
suffered herself to be beguiled.

" Can it indeed be you, ma mignonnef " murmured
the King as he returned her caresses, heedless of the
presence of his imperial visitor. " Oh, Marguerite,
how dear, how inexpressibly welcome is this meeting ;
destined, perhaps, to be our last."

Francis I 269

" And wherefore ? " asked the Duchess energeti-
cally ; " yours is, believe me, a generous enemy, who
will not even seek to resist my tears. He knows that
you have already suffered deeply both in body and
mind. Thus you see that I am the earnest of good
fortune."

" I have already striven against my despair," said
Francis gloomily ; " I had even, for a time, dared to
hope ; but I have learnt much, very much, Marguerite,
since we parted, and there are wounds of the heart
which will not close."

The interview was a brief one, both Francis and his
sister confining themselves to generalities until they
could converse without restraint ; and Charles having
once more bade his " good brother," as he called the
royal prisoner, be of better cheer, and trust to his
sincerity, conducted the Duchess to the residence
which had been prepared for her ; with the assurance
that he was ready, since she had been entrusted with
the negotiation by the Regent, to accede to such terms
as could not fail to be aceptable to so welcome an
ambassadress.

Marguerite was, however, so well aware of the bad
faith of the fair-seeming Emperor, that she did not
suffer herself to be deluded by such a promise ; and
when he had withdrawn, she hastened to take counsel
of Philippe de Villiers, the Grand-Master of the
Knights of Malta, the Archbishop of Embrun, M. de
Selva, the first president of Paris, and the Seigneurs
de Montmorenci and de Brion, by whom she had been
accompanied to Spain ; and who urged her if possible
to conciliate Bourbon, and to form an acquaintance

270 Reign of

with the widowed Queen Eleanora, whom Francis had
offered to espouse. Charles V., however, anticipating
that she would take the latter step, had induced his
sister to make a pilgrimage to Guadaloupe, whence
she did not return until the Duchess had left Spain.

The delight of Marguerite on finding herself once
more near her idolized brother may be appreciated,
when it is stated that, on first receiving the intelligence
of his illness, she had exclaimed in the agony of her
despair: " Whosoever shall announce to me the re-
covery of the King, that messenger, though he be
heated, jaded, and sullied by the filth of the roads over
which he may have travelled, I will embrace and wel-
come as I would the proudest prince or nobleman of
France; and should he have no bed to rest upon, I
will give him mine, and sleep upon the boards, to
recompense him for the precious tidings which he
brings me."

On the 4th of October, Marguerite de Valois had
her first official audience of the Emperor ; and her
extreme beauty, her uncommon intellect, her startling
eloquence, and, above all, the bold and uncompromis-
ing fearlessness of her spirit, were well calculated to
produce a strong impression upon his mind. It is,
moreover, probable that the knowledge of her royal
brother's convalescence inspired her with additional
energy ; for she was unconscious that this very circum-
stance militated against her hopes ; Charles, having
ceased to tremble for the life of his prisoner, being
less than ever inclined to permit his prey to escape him.
Even his avarice was silenced by his desire of ven-
geance ; he now saw himself without a rival in Europe,

Francis I 271

and gloried in the conviction ; while he was conscious
that Francis, once more at liberty, might yet establish
a balance fatal to his ambition.

In this temper, therefore, the Emperor felt little in-
clination to be contravened by a woman; albeit that
woman was one of the loveliest and most intellectual
of the age. In order to defer the conference, he had
removed suddenly to Toledo ; but Madame d'Alenqon
had no sooner satisfied herself that the health of her
royal brother was amended by her care and sympathy,
and received from him full powers to act in his name
and on his behalf, than she determined to follow him
to that city, attended by M. de Villiers.

Previously to quitting the capital, however, she had
invited the Due de Bourbon to visit her, and her sum-
mons was instantly obeyed. Old associations and
memories to which neither ventured to allude, but
which exerted a powerful influence over both parties,
rendered mutual confidence easy ; and before the ex-
Connetable took his leave he revealed to Marguerite
the real designs of the Emperor, in so far as they had
been entrusted to him ; assuring her that she had noth-
ing to hope from either the generosity or the justice of
Charles, but must act throughout upon the defensive.
Strong in this conviction, therefore, she proceeded to
Toledo, where she was received with a cold courtesy,
which might have damped a less energetic spirit ; but
which, as we have shown, produced no such effect
upon that of Marguerite de Valois. The evident con-
straint of the Emperor aroused her pride, and she
opened the subject in a manner at once firm and digni-
fied, by demanding to know the decision at which he

272 Reign of

had arrived. Charles briefly replied that he had al-
ready submitted his conditions to the King himself.

" By whom," said Marguerite, " your imperial
Majesty has long been aware that they were definitely
declined. I have therefore now only to learn your
determination as to those which the King my brother
offered to concede."

" They are inadmissible, Madame ; the hand of the
Queen of Portugal is pledged to the Due de Bourbon,
who alone can release it."

" But I am prepared, Sire, to assure your Majesty
that M. de Bourbon will not persist in his claim, now
that he is aware of the views of his sovereign. This
difficulty is consequently at an end, and we have only
to discuss the remaining clauses of the treaty."

" I have referred the whole matter to my ministers,"
said Charles stolidly ; " and in their hands I am resolved
to leave it."

" And is this, Sire, indeed to be the result of the fair
promises with which you have beguiled both my
brother and myself? " asked the Duchess with a gest-
ure of indignation which she did not even seek to
disguise. " Are you in truth prepared to persevere in
a course which must draw down upon you the con-
tempt and abhorrence of all the princes of Christen-
dom? Have you forgotten that Francis of France is
your sovereign lord, and that you owe him homage
for your Flemish provinces? Is a consciousness of
your own temporary power to blind you to the fact
that, by your present want of honour and good faith,
you are alienating forever the heart of the noblest sov-
ereign in Europe, and converting one who might

Francis I 273

prove a powerful friend into an implacable enemy?
Surely, Sire, you cannot have duly considered these
things — will not the world attribute to fear a measure
so unprecedented as that of retaining a brother mon-
arch in captivity? Nor, even should your prisoner,
like the caged eagle, droop and die behind the bars
which you have forged about him, will you be safe
from the vengeance of his successors; for he has sons,
Sire, whose first and holiest duty it will become to
avenge their father's wrongs.'

" I have on my side much to complain of at his
hands, Madame," said the Emperor.

" Name your wrongs, Sir," replied Marguerite ;
" and they shall be redressed. Has he attempted to
usurp your territories? Has he rewarded the re-
bellion of your most powerful noble by present favour
and brilliant promises? Has he offered to him a
crown, and the hand of a widowed Queen ? or has he
met your open hostility with crafty policy, and covert
wrong?" ,

" Should M. de Bourbon resign the hand of my royal
sister as you allege, Madame, I am willing to forego
my purpose of making him an independent sovereign.
Further than this I will not concede."

" I am ready, Sire," persisted the Duchess, " to
double the sum which had been already offered to
your Majesty for the ransom of the King, as well as
to ratify the other conditions made by himself. That
is my boundary also; and one which I cannot over-
pass."

" Then, Madame," said Charles, as he rose from his
seat, " our conference is ended. The remainder of this
Vol. II.— 18

274 Reign of

unhappy business must be arranged by my ministers,
and in their hands, as I before remarked, I leave it."

" Pardon me if I yet delay your Majesty a moment,"
said the Duchess, as she drew from her bosom a small
packet, which she unfolded. " Here, Sire, is an act of
abdication drawn up by the King my brother, to be
put in force in the event of an obduracy, which, never-
theless, he had not been led to anticipate at your hands.
By this document he has transferred the sovereignty
of France to his elder son, M. le Dauphin ; confirmed
the regency of Madame d'Angouleme ; and, in case of
her demise, entrusted it to myself; reserving mean-
while the right of resuming the crown whenever and
however he may recover his liberty."

A cold and doubtful smile passed over the lips of
Charles. He too well understood the character of his
rival to credit for a moment that he possessed the ex-
tent of moral courage requisite for such a sacrifice ;
and strong in this conviction, he remained silent ; only
replying to the energetic Princess by a second bow,
more imperious and significative than the first.

Thus tacitly dismissed, Madame d'Alengon had no
alternative but to withdraw, which she did, as firmly
and as haughtily as she had entered ; and leaving the
counsellors who had accompanied her from France to
discuss the question of a compromise with those of the
Emperor, she returned to Madrid to take leave of her
brother; the period to which her safe-conduct ex-
tended having nearly expired.

Painfully convinced that there was, indeed, nothing
to be hoped from the good feeling or chivalry of
Charles, the Duchess no sooner found herself again in

Francis I 275

the Spanish capital than she resolved, if possible, to
effect the escape of the royal prisoner ; and, after con-
ceiving, and dismissing as impracticable, a variety of
schemes, she at length decided upon one, of which
both the ingenuity and courage did credit to her high
and indomitable spirit.

Among the scanty attendance conceded to Francis
was a negro, whose duty it was to supply the apart-
ments with fuel. This man, who in height and figure
greatly resembled the captive, Madame d'Alenqon at-
tempted to conciliate, an endeavour in which she easily
succeeded ; and, in a short time, by present kindness,
and promises for the future, he became so entirely
devoted to her wishes, that he declared himself ready
to undertake anything which she desired, however
great might be the danger attending it.

This point gained, no time was lost, and it was ar-
ranged that so soon as proper preparations were made,
the Princess should take leave of her brother ; and that,
at dusk on the same day, the negro should carry in his
accustomed load of wood for the consumption of the
night; Francis in the mean time having stained his
hands and face with a black dye. The King was then
to exchange clothes with his deliverer, who was to
retire to bed, as if overcome by the grief and fatigue
of parting from his sister, while the captive himself
was to leave the castle, and as rapidly as possible re-
join Madame d'Alen^on and her friends, by whom the
most cautious arrangements had been made to secure
his safety from detection.

Up to the last week nothing occurred which could
create the slightest fear of failure ; but it unfortunately

276 Reign of

happened that two of the King's personal attendants,
both of whom were Frenchmen, and consequently
aware of the intended evasion, chanced to have an
altercation, in the course of which, M. Clerment Cham-
pion, a gentleman of the bed-chamber, received a blow,
of which he complained loudly to his royal master.
Francis, however, who was absorbed in his prospect
of escape, and unwilling to remonstrate severely with
those upon whose fidelity and assistance he now relied,
affected to treat the matter lightly, and refused to in-
terfere in what he considered merely as a temporary
misunderstanding. Unhappily, Champion conceived
his honour to be involved, and became so indignant
when he discovered that the King refused to resent
the insult which had been offered to him, that, in the
first rush of passion, he left the castle and proceeded
to Toledo, where, having obtained an audience of the
Emperor, he disclosed all the particulars of the pro-
posed flight.

The conduct of Charles upon this occasion was per-
fectly consistent with his character. He expressed his
surprise and regret that the monarch of France should
have degraded himself by so unworthy and contempti-
ble a design, and merely desired that the negro should
be dismissed ; but while affecting this moderation, and
even indifference, he nevertheless caused the state-
ments of Champion to be reduced to writing, and
properly attested; after which he caused them to be
forwarded to the captain of the guard, with such
orders as soon made it evident to the King that his
project had been discovered. The vigilance of those
about him increased to inconvenience ; and the pres-

Francis I 277

ence of d'Alarcon, who had lately relaxed somewhat
in his obtrusiveness, became perpetual, while he was
deprived of the services of his most devoted attendants.
Madame d'Alenqon no sooner ascertained the failure
of her hopes than she again demanded an audience of
the Emperor, at which she expostulated warmly and
bitterly upon the increase of severity experienced by
her brother ; attributing the whole plan of the evasion
to herself, and reminding him that his own injustice
had driven Francis to accede to her request. Charles
listened courteously ; and not daring to doubt that she
must ultimately succeed in restoring the King at least
to his former comparative liberty and comfort, she
suffered day by day to elapse while she awaited the
anticipated concession. No sign of relenting, how-
ever, escaped the Emperor; and at length she was
warned by Bourbon, that since the discovery had taken
place an addition had been made to her safe-conduct
of the words " provided she has attempted nothing
prejudicial to the Emperor or the nation ; " adding that
he had ascertained it to be the intention of Charles to
arrest her, should she remain within the Spanish terri-
tories an hour beyond the appointed time ; and to re-
tain her a prisoner until the King should consent to
accept the proposed conditions for their mutual release.
The high-spirited Marguerite, who had never for an
instant suspected that the Emperor could meditate so
unmanly an act of treachery, now found that she had
not an instant to lose ; and, consequently, ordering her
escort, she at once set forth upon her homeward jour-
ney notwithstanding the severity of the weather ; de-
spatching a messenger to the Comte Clermont de

278 Francis I

Lodeve, the Governor of Narbonne, to request him to
meet her at Salces with a body of armed men. In
eight days she accomplished the distance usually per-
formed in twice the time ; and at nightfall of the very
day on which her safe-conduct expired she reached
Roussillon, where the imperial troops by whom she
had been followed saw her surrounded by a force with
which they were unable to compete, and consequently
retired.

CHAPTER X.

Despair of Francis — Recalls His Act of Abdication — Besetting
Weakness of the Royal Prisoner — The Secret Protest — Dip-
lomatic Treachery of the French King — Degrading Conces-
sions— Dangerous Alternative Conceded by Charles V. — De-
cision of the Regent — Conference between Charles and
Francis — Betrothal of Francis to the Queen of Portugal —
Departure of the French King from Spain — His Meeting
with the Princes — He is Met at Bayonne by the Court —
Arrival of Madame de Chateaubriand — Indignation of
Louise de Savoie — The King is Detained in the Southern
Provinces by Ill-health — The Imperialist Envoys Urge upon
Francis the Ratification of the Treaty of Madrid — His
Evasive Reply — He Receives Ambassadors from the Pope
and the Venetian States — Complains of the Harsh Measures
of the Emperor — Replaces the Generals who fell at Pavia —
Abandons Himself once more to Dissipation — Nearly Loses
His Life from a Fall while Hunting — Convokes an Assembly
of the Princes and the Burgundian Deputies — They Refuse
to Sanction the Excision of the Duchy from France — Francis
Signs a Treaty with the Pope, Henry VIII., Francisco
Sforza and the Venetians — The Imperial Envoys Withdraw
from France — Indignation of Charles V. — He Summons
Francis to Return to Madrid — Francis Disregards the Ap-
peal— He Neglects to Assist His Allies — Pescara Replaced
in Italy by Bourbon — The Imperial Army Oppress the Italian
People — Francis Endeavours to Negotiate with the Emperor
— His Triumphant Reception — Louise de Savoie Resolves to
Supplant the Countess de Chateaubriand — The Maid of
Honour — An Apt Pupil — The Court Reception — Anne de

279

280 Reign of

Pisseleu is Presented to the King — Effects of her Appear-
ance— Alarm of Madame de Chateaubriand.

IMMEDIATELY after the departure of his sister,
Francis fell back into the same state of discour-
agement in which she had found him. Charles con-
tinued inflexible ; and he began to dread that, should
he persevere in resisting his demands, he was destined
to perpetual imprisonment. Such a prospect was
agony to his impatient and restless spirit; and the
more he reflected upon abdicating his throne, the more
repulsive the idea became. He had, immediately upon
drawing up the document entrusted to the Princess,
desired Messieurs de Montmorenci and de Brion to
proceed at once to France, as the attendants of the
Dauphin ; but upon ascertaining that the conferences
then pending at Toledo produced no results, and that
the Emperor resolutely refused to renounce one iota
of his claims, he wrote to desire them to return, and
to bring with them the edict which subsequent con-
sideration had determined him to cancel.

Had he persisted in his first high-minded and gen-
erous purpose, he would have escaped the censure
with which he has been justly visited by posterity;
have upheld his own honour ; and preserved his coun-
try from sacrifices fatal to its greatness. But the be-
setting sin of Francis had ever been his vanity. He
could not brook the concession of his sovereignty even
for a season ; and in compliance with the dictates of
this unmanly weakness, he was induced to exhibit a
selfishness baneful alike to his own reputation and to
the welfare of his kingdom. On the 19th of Decern-

Francis I 281

ber, only a few weeks after he had parted from Madame
d'Alenc,on, he delivered to his plenipotentiaries an
order to draw up a treaty in conformity with the will
of Charles ; and on the 14th of January, when he was
hourly expecting to be called upon to sign the treaty,
and take the oath to observe its conditions, he sum-
moned them to his presence, together with the Lords
de Montmorenci, de Boissy, and de Brion, and the
several secretaries and notaries who had been em-
ployed during the recent conferences ; and, after hav-
ing bound them by an oath to secresy, he explained at
length all his causes of complaint against the Emperor ;
declared the document which he was about to sign to
be null and void, it having been forced upon him while
under restraint ; and called upon them to witness that
he never meant to fulfil the conditions to which it
pledged him.

After having made this dishonourable and degrad-
ing compromise with his conscience, Francis unhesi-
tatingly plighted his royal word, and affixed his royal
signature to the iniquitous demands of the Emperor ;
an act by which, had they been observed, he reduced
the great kingdom over which he had been called to
reign, to an insignificance which would have rendered
it a mere third-rate European power ; for by these he
bound himself to cede to Charles the duchy of Bur-
gundy, the county of Charolais, the lordships of Cha-
teau-Chinon and Noyers, the viscounty of Auxonne,
and the jurisdiction of Saint-Laurent ; to renounce the
sovereignty of Flanders and Artois ; and to withdraw
his alliance and protection from the young King of
Navarre, the Dues de Gueldres and Wirtemberg, and

282 Reign of

Robert de la Mark ; thus dismembering his nation,
stripping it of some of its finest provinces, and of many
of its available resources, and sacrificing several of his
most tried and devoted friends.

Nor was even this the full extent of the humiliation
to which he was pledged ; for it was also stipulated that
he should furnish Charles with troops, vessels, and
funds to prosecute his design of subjugating Italy;
that he should give his sister in marriage to the Due
de Bourbon, who, together with his adherents, was to
be fully pardoned, and restored to the possession of all
their former territories and property of whatever de-
scription within the realm of France ; and that he
should reinstate, in like manner, the Prince of Orange,
whose estates had been confiscated for his adherence
to the cause of the Emperor ; and pay a ransom of two
millions of crowns for his own release, as well as the
debt due by Charles to England, which amounted to
five hundred thousand additional. He was, moreover,
to espouse the widowed Queen Eleonora of Portugal,
and to affiance the Dauphin to the Infanta her daughter,
to whom she was to be united so soon as he had at-
tained a proper age ; while, in compensation of this
undue and monstrous condescension, which disgraced
him equally as a monarch and a man, it was agreed
that on the ioth of March next ensuing he was to be
escorted to the frontier of his own territories, where he
was to deliver up, in lieu of his own person, his two
elder sons as hostages; or, should he prefer it, the
Dauphin and twelve of the first nobles of France se-
lected by himself, the whole of whom were to remain
in the custody of Charles until the pledges he had given

Francis I 283

were fulfilled. These exacted that Burgundy was to
be ceded within six weeks, and the ratifications of the
treaty exchanged within four months ; or that Francis
should return to Spain, to be again imprisoned where-
soever the Emperor should see fit, and to accompany
him in person on his crusade against the infidels.

In leaving the French King at liberty to retain, and
to replace his second son by twelve of his subjects,
there is little doubt that Charles calculated upon the
womanly weakness of Louise de Savoie, to whom
Francis deferred the decision ; but he had mistaken the
nature of the Regent, who, before she would make a
definitive reply demanded to know the names of the
nobles who were to act as substitutes for the young
Prince ; when the Emperor unblushingly mentioned
those of the Due de Vendome, the Due d'Aubigny, the
Comte de Saint Pol, the Comte de Guise, the Marechal
de Lautrec, the Comte de Laval, the Marquis de Sa-
luzzo, the Seigneurs de Rieux and de Breze, the Mare-
chal de Montmorenci, the Admiral de Brion, and the
Marechal d'Aubigny.

Louise de Savoie did not hesitate for a moment.
She saw that by accepting this insidious offer she should
deprive the French army of its most able generals ;
and she accordingly lost no time in setting forth for
Bayonne, accompanied by her two grandsons, and
attended by a brilliant court.

Meanwhile Charles in his turn proceeded to Madrid,
where he had a long conference with Francis ; after
which, both occupying the same litter, they paid a visit
to Queen Eleonora, and the ceremony of betrothal
was performed; but, nevertheless, the French King

284 Reign of

was detained a prisoner in the Alcazar until the 21st
of February, when he at length commenced his jour-
ney towards his own frontier, under the joint guard of
De Lannoy and Alargon, and escorted by fifty horse-
men.

On the 1 8th of March he reached Fontarabia, and
once more saw before him the blue and rapid waves
of the Bidassoa, which marked the boundaries of the
two kingdoms. In the centre of the river a large
barge had been moored, and on the opposite bank he
distinguished the Marechal de Lautrec, with his two
sons, also attended by a mounted escort. Boats were
in readiness on either shore; and the several parties,
each accompanied by eight soldiers, put off at the
same moment, and in a few seconds boarded the barge.
The greeting of Francis to his children was brief ; his
gaze was fixed upon the soil of France, and the same
embrace combined at once his welcome and his leave-
taking to the bewildered Princes. In another instant
he had sprung into the boat which now awaited him-
self ; and he no sooner touched the shore, than, seizing
the bridle-rein of a noble Arab which had been pre-
pared for him, he vaulted into the saddle, and, waving
his hand energetically, exclaimed, " Once more I am
a King ! " In another second he had dashed his spurs
into the flanks of his gallant steed, and before a word
had been exchanged between himself and Lautrec, he
galloped furiously from the spot; nor did he slacken
his speed until he reached St. Jean de Luz, where he
made a temporary halt which enabled his escort to
join him ; and then, with scarcely less rapidity, he pur-
sued his way to Bayonne, where his mother and sister
were impatiently expecting him.

Francis I 285

To Louise de Savoie the meeting was one of unal-
loyed delight; but to Marguerite de Valois it was
damped by the expatriation of her young and helpless
nephews; by the reflection that one of her brother's
truest and most tried subjects, the veteran Minister de
Semblanc,ay, was still wearing away the evening of his
life within the gloomy dungeons of the Bastille, with-
out a hope of release save by death, the virulence of
the Regent having caused the process which she had
instituted against him to assume the most threatening
aspect; and by the enfeebled state of the Kmg him-
self ; who, even amid the delight and exultation of find-
ing himself once more within the boundaries of his
own kingdom, and surrounded by his noblest and most
faithful friends, nevertheless unconsciously betrayed
the fearful inroads which captivity and suffering had
made upon his health.

But there was one individual who, even more than
Madame d'Angouleme herself, suffered every memory
and every consideration to be swallowed up in the
absorbing joy of this new meeting ; and that one was
the Comtesse de Chateaubriand, who, having suc-
ceeded during heV imprisonment under the roof of her
husband in gaining over the solitary attendant who
had access to her apartment, had been apprised of the
release and expected arrival of the King ; and had lost
no time, through the connivance of this new ally, in
making her escape from Brittany ; and thus the court
had scarcely reached Bayonne, when, to the great and
undisguised displeasure of the Regent, it was joined
by the only woman whose influence rivalled her own
over the mind of her son.

286 Reign of

In Marguerite de Valois, however, the fugitive
Countess found a willing and powerful protector. She
was aware how essential the affection of the Countess
had become to the happiness of her brother ; and when
she witnessed the delight which beamed in his eyes as
he advanced to greet her, she became convinced that
without the presence of Madame de Chateaubriand his
self-gratulation would have been incomplete.

The shattered state of his health, and the extreme
languor by which he was oppressed, induced the phy-
sicians of the King to advise him to remain for a time
in the southern provinces; a counsel which he will-
ingly followed, the enthusiasm of his subjects, and the
public rejoicings consequent upon his return, leaving
him no leisure for weariness or desire of change. The
envoys of the Emperor, who had accompanied him to
Bayonne, and who urged upon him the ratification of
the treaty which he had signed at Madrid, were briefly
and coldly dismissed, with the reply that he could take
no further steps until he had obtained the sanction of
the States of Burgundy to separate that duchy from
the kingdom of France, for which purpose he was
about to convoke them ; and they had no other alterna-
tive than to remain at Bayonne until the assembly
should have met.

Francis then hastened to write with his own hand
to Henry VIIL, to express the gratitude he felt for his
refusal to invade his territories ; and to confirm the
treaty made between that monarch and the Regent,
which had been signed at Bordeaux on the 15th of
April. He also received with affectionate courtesy the
confidential ambassadors of the Pope and the Venetian

Francis I 287

Senate, who were sent to congratulate him upon his
return to France; and did not hesitate to complain
with great bitterness of the harsh and ungenerous
treatment he had experienced from the Emperor ; and
to declare to them, when they pressed him to uphold
the independence of Italy, and the equilibrium of
Europe, that he considered the treaty which he had
been compelled to sign at Madrid of none effect, wrung
from him as it had been by violence ; and that he was
not only ready to assist in the restoration of the liberty
of the Italian states, but also to make an effort to over-
throw the arrogant pretensions of Charles himself.
His next step was to replace the brave generals and
companions in arms who had fallen at Pavia, and to re-
ward those who still survived ; and these arrangements
made, he abandoned himself to his favourite pursuits
and pleasures with a zest little calculated to restore him
to the health he so much needed.

From Bayonne he proceeded with all his court to
Bordeaux, and thence to Cognac, where he sustained
a fall while hunting by which his life was endangered,
and a season of compelled inaction was induced, which
enabled him once more to find leisure for more serious
and important considerations.

By alleging the necessity of appealing to the States
on the subject of Burgundy, Francis had merely
sought to gain time, for his disposition was too arbi-
trary to suffer him to submit to dictation from his sub-
jects ; but in order to silence the Emperor by some
measure which might bear the semblance of a defer-
ence to the national authority, he convoked* a meeting

* On the i2tb of December.

288 Reign of

of the princes, great nobles, and prelates who were
then at court, to whom he introduced de Lannoy,
stating the object for which he had followed him from
Spain, and calling upon them to decide between him-
self and the Emperor. As he had been aware would
be the case, the whole assembly at once disowned his
right to dismember the kingdom ; and asserted that
an oath exacted by a foreign sovereign could not ex-
empt him from the observance and fulfilment of that
which he had taken at his coronation. The deputies
of the States of Burgundy, who had also been sum-
moned, declared, moreover, that they would never
consent to yield allegiance to any monarch save that
of France, nor to permit their duchy to become a por-
tion of the Emperor's territory ; and that, even should
the King urge them to such a concession, they would
resist while they had life.

De Lannoy was too skilful a diplomatist to be
duped by so transparent a comedy as this. He felt
that his imperial master was foiled with his own weap-
ons; nor was his mortification decreased, even amid
the splendid entertainments which Francis affected to
give in honour of the Emperor's envoys* by the fact
that, during his sojourn at Cognac, the French King
signed a treaty of alliance with the Pope, Francisco
Sforza, the King of England, and the Venetians,
which assumed the name of the Holy League. By
this treaty the contracting parties bound themselves
to effect the liberation of the French Princes, paying a
ransom of two million golden crowns for their re-
lease; to restore to Francisco Sforza the sovereignty
of Milan ; and to put the other Italian states into pos-

Francis I 289

session of all the rights and immunities which they
possessed before the war.

By consenting to enter into this league, Francis,
who was at length desirous of peace, deliberately de-
ceived those who had offered to become his allies.
The subtle spirit of Louise de Savoie had suggested,
and her son had voluntarily adopted, this treacherous
policy, in order to intimidate the Emperor by the
prospect of a war with Italy and England, and thus to
induce him to withdraw his opposition to a compro-
mise by which Burgundy would remain an uncontested
province of France, and the liberty of the young
Princes be secured.

So open and avowed a disregard of the claims of
his imperial master induced de Lannoy to expostulate
warmly with Francis ; but as he could obtain no other
reply to his reproachful arguments than an assurance
that the King was ready to make any pecuniary com-
pensation which the Emperor might demand for the
non-fulfilment of this condition of the treaty — a com-
promise which the envoys were not authorized to
accept — they had no alternative but at once to with-
draw from the city, and return to Spain.

On receiving the intelligence of this false dealing
on the part of Francis, Charles exclaimed vehemently :
" He need not accuse his subjects of this want of good
faith. To prove his own sincerity, he has only to ful-
fil his pledge, and once more to constitute him-
self my prisoner. Let him do that, and I will ac-
quit him."

He then removed the Dauphin and the Due d'Or-
leans from Valladolid, where they had hitherto resided,
Vol. II.— 19

290 Reign of

to Old Castile ; refused to accept the compromise of-
fered by the French King; and formally summoned
him to perform his promise, and to surrender himself
once more a prisoner.

Francis was not, however, likely to reply to such an
appeal while surrounded by homage and pleasure;
and so completely did he ere long become immersed
in his favourite pursuits, that he even neglected to fulfil
the pledges which he had given to his new allies ; and,
instead of furnishing an army for the contemplated
campaign, he suffered all considerations of policy to
be obliterated by the amusement of the moment.

In this supineness he was not imitated by the Em-
peror, who was no sooner apprised of the death of
Pescara, than he despatched the Due de Bourbon once
more to Italy, with a promise that he should succeed
to the sovereignty of the Milanese ; giving him as his
coadjutors the Marquis del Guasto (who had at the
request of his cousin inherited his command), Ugo da
Moncada, and Antonio da Leyva, three brave and able
generals, who were well worthy of such an association.
He did not, however, provide any means of subsistence
for the army over which they presided ; but with cold-
blooded atrocity, authorized the troops to extort all
that they required from the unfortunate Italians. The
natural consequence ensued ; the population, driven to
desperation, formed constant conspiracies against the
imperial generals, who revenged themselves by in-
creased severity and augmented confiscations; and
meanwhile Francisco Sforza began to suffer from the
famine at Milan, which still continued in a state of
§\ege ; awaiting in vain the succours which had been

3

Francis I 291

promised to him by the French King ; who, instead of
relieving the necessities of his friends, had recom-
menced his negotiations with the Emperor to induce
him to receive an equivalent in specie for the Bur-
gundian duchy ; and upon various and puerile pretexts
delayed to ratify the treaty of Cognac.

The progress of Francis through his southern prov-
inces was one perpetual triumph ; not even as the victor
of Marignano had he been so enthusiastically received ;
and he had not moral courage to tear himself from
these new-found delights even to take the steps neces-
sary to ensure their continuance. Absorbed in dissi-
pation and self-indulgence, he left all public affairs in
the hands and under the control of his mother, her
unprincipled adviser Duprat, and the creatures to
whom he had sold the government offices, and who
were entirely at his disposal. Even amid the multi-
tudinous cares which thus devolved upon her, how-
ever, Louise de Savoie found leisure and opportunity
to watch all the movements of the King, and her exas-
peration was extreme when she became convinced that
absence had only served to rivet the chains by which
he was bound to Madame de Chateaubriand. She
could not forgive the defiance to her will exhibited by
the Countess, whom she had herself exiled from the
court, in thus presenting herself once more before her
at the very moment of the King's return, as if in
marked contempt of her authority; and her indigna-
tion and jealousy were heightened by the reflection
that nothing save a conviction of impunity could have
led the Countess to attempt so dangerous an experi-
ment. iiivM -s

m «

292 Reign of

Vainly had she endeavoured to excite the coldness
and distrust of Francis towards the beautiful favourite :
he only smiled at her inferences, and escaped from her
remonstrances ; and at length, in despair of effecting
her purpose by argument or persuasion, Louise de
Savoie, who was unrestrained by any moral considera-
tion, and who had internally vowed the ruin of her
victim, resolved to effect it by introducing her son
to some new beauty, whose very novelty would give
her an advantage over the more matured and familiar
charms of Madame de Chateaubriand. In order to
find a fitting object for this unworthy purpose, the
Duchess-mother was not compelled to look beyond
her own lovely and licentious circle; and she smiled
triumphantly, as she remembered that of all her train
the most beautiful girl had not yet, owing to a slight
indisposition, been presented to the King.

Madame d'Angouleme had, in the previous year,
received into her household as one of her maids of
honour, Anne de Pisseleu, the daughter of Guillaume
de Pisseleu, Seigneur de Heilly, who had at that period
just attained her seventeenth year, and whose extra-
ordinary loveliness was the topic of the whole court.
Highly educated, and endowed by nature with a
sparkling wit which enhanced her acquired attain-
ments, she had at once become a favourite with her
royal mistress, to whose will she affected the most de-
voted obedience. In Mademoiselle de Heilly, there-
fore, Louise de Savoie believed that she had all to
hope, and nothing to apprehend ; for she was already
so well acquainted with the coquetry and dissipation
of her character, that she did not for an instant fear

Francis I 293

any opposition on the part of the young lady herself
to a project which held out such brilliant promises of
future greatness. She, therefore, instructed her maid
of honour to remain secluded in her apartment until
she should herself decide the moment of her presenta-
tion to the King ; and when the spoiled favourite vent-
ured to inquire the reason of this enforced solitude,
Louise de Savoie only answered by a significant smile,
and an injunction to be careful of her good looks ; and
then, in order to escape further interrogation, she left
the room.

As she withdrew, Mademoiselle de Heilly remained
for a moment lost in thought; after which she ap-
proached a large Venetian mirror that stood upon her
toilette, and looked into it long and anxiously. A
cold, proud smile rose to her lips as she turned away.
She had already fathomed the meaning of the Regent.

When the court reached Mont-de-Marsan, Louise
de Savoie once more paid a visit to the fair recluse ;
when she announced her intention of holding a circle
on the following evening, and presented to her protege
a parure of costly pearls.

" I believe you to be attached to me, Mademoiselle,"
she said, as she passed her fingers caressingly through
the long ebon tresses of Anne de Pisseleu, who knelt
at her feet to kiss the hand which tendered the costly
gift ; " nor do I fear that you will ever forget all that
you owe to my favour. I look upon you as one who
will be devoted to my will through every change of
fortune, and governed by my wishes in every emer-
gency, and under all circumstances. To-morrow you
will be presented to the King. Be equally obedient
and loyal towards my son."

294 Reign of

Eagerly was that morrow anticipated by the fair
maid of honour, who had already been too long an
inmate of the dissolute court of the Regent to be either
surprised or startled by the new intrigue in which she
was destined to play so prominent a part. She had
already seen the rival whom she was tacitly called upon
to supplant ; and as she remembered her pale pure
face, shaded by masses of bright auburn hair, her soft
grey eyes, and well rounded but somewhat diminutive
figure, she contemplated with secret exultation her
own large and languishing black eyes, the clouds of
rich ebon ringlets that fell about her brow and shoul-
ders, the graceful proportions of her finely developed
figure, and the fascination of her smile ; until she be-
gan to feel that her success was certain, and to weave
a web of dazzling and daring fancies which at once
blinded her to the infamy by which they were to be
purchased, and might have served to arrest the pur-
pose of Madame d'Angouleme, had she been enabled
to fathom the mysteries of that heart which she be-
lieved to be wholly absorbed by vanity and pleasure.

After a day devoted to hunting, and an hour given
to the imperious demands of public business, Francis
proceeded to the apartments of his mother, which were
brilliantly illuminated, and already crowded with cour-
tiers of both sexes. Louise de Savoie occupied a
raised seat beneath a canopy at the upper end of the
principal salon ; and on her left hand sat Marguerite
de Valois, having immediately behind her the Com-
tesse de Chateaubriand, whose soft and childlike loveli-
ness formed a marked contrast to the noble and proud
beauty of her royal friend. The resemblance borne

Francis I 295

by the Duchesse d'Alen<;on to her brother was re-
markable. The same piercing and imperious grey
eyes, the same abundance of rich dark hair upon which
the King had prided himself before the accident which
induced him to wear it closely cut, the same finely
formed but somewhat too salient nose, the same full
firm mouth, and the same lofty figure and bearing were
discernible in each ; but the general harshness of the
King's expression was tempered into softness by the
urbane and affectionate nature of the Duchess. Be-
hind the coffer, draped with crimson damask, which
was occupied by the Regent, stood Madame de Bran-
cas, the comptroller of the household, the Duchesse
d'Usez, and the other ladies in waiting; while on her
right was placed, a step higher than her own, a similar
seat for the King; upon whose entrance Madame de
Brancas advanced to the front of the Duchess-mother,
in order to introduce such of the guests as were not
members of the court, or who had from any cause been
absent for a time from the royal circle, when it should
be the pleasure of the Regent to receive their saluta-
tions.

In the train of Francis were assembled Montmo-
renci, whom he had just appointed Grand-Master,
Marechal, and Governor of Languedoc; de Brion
Chabot, newly created admiral and governor of Bur-
gundy ; Teodoro Trivulzio, and Fleuranges, who had
both obtained the baton of Marechal ; Saint-Pol, the
new Governor of Dauphiny ; and Breze, upon whom
had been conferred the government of Normandy ; all
of whom were to be formally and for the first time pre-
sented to the ex-Regent by their present titles. Gay

296 Reign of

and gorgeous was the group; and it is questionable
whether any who looked at that moment upon the
individuals of whom it was composed, had either leisure
or inclination to reflect that the King had replaced
the old and tried generals whom he had lost at Pavia
by a bevy of court favourites.

Francis advanced to the dais, where, having saluted
his mother, he bowed slightly in acknowledgment of
the profound courtesy of Madame de Brancas, and
then, in order not to impede the presentations, moved
forward to the seat of Madame d'Alenqon, where he
continued in conversation with herself and the Com-
tesse de Chateaubriand until all the nobles had passed
the Duchess ; after which, still trailing the white plumes
of his hat along the tapestried floor, he returned to the
side of his mother, and took possession of the seat
which had been provided for him.

The white wand of Madame de Brancas quivered in
her hand, as she severally presented the wives of the
civic functionaries, whom, in consideration of the royal
reception which had been given to her son, the
Duchess-mother had admitted to her circle. The dig-
nity of the comptroller of the household suffered under
this enforced duty; and although the courtesy of
Francis compelled him to welcome each as she ap-
proached with that winning condescension which se-
cured the hearts of all to whom it was extended, it
was evident that he was weary of the ceremony ; when,
as the last of the provincial ladies retired, proud and
happy, to the lower end of the hall, the voice of the
stately female official became suddenly sonorous, her
wand steady, and her whole attitude dignified and
calm.

Francis I 297

" La Demoiselle de Heilly, Madame." And Anne
de Pisseleu advanced towards the dais. As she came
forward with a slow but firm step, her eye never wan-
dered from the face of her royal mistress. Her robe
of crimson damask, richly embroidered with gold, fell
about her in folds which might have draped a Grecian
statue ; her dark hair was braided with pearls, and her
neck and arms were adorned with the same costly
gems. With dignified yet modest grace she bent her
knee ; and as Louise de Savoie extended her hand to
raise her, she turned one look upon her son.

That look told her that she had triumphed.

" The poor child has been long ill," said Louise de
Savoie, as if to account for her sudden appearance.
" Mademoiselle, the King will receive your homage."

Instinctively Francis rose, not as before slowly and
languidly, but with an expression of interest and pleas-
ure so visible as to bring a glow to the cheek of his
sister, and tears into the eyes of Madame de Chateau-
briand. He even suffered Mademoiselle de Heilly to
kneel for an instant before he recovered sufficient self-
possession to raise her ; and as he at length did so, he
said in an unsteady voice —

" Be careful of your health Mademoiselle ; it is too
precious to be neglected. The court of Madame can
ill afford the absence of its brightest ornament."

Mademoiselle de Heilly again curtsied profoundly;
after which she withdrew behind the seat of the
Regent, whence she did not move for the remainder
of the evening. She could not have occupied a posi-
tion better calculated to enhance her extraordinary
beauty ; for as she occasionally bent down to reply to

298 Reign of

a few kind words addressed to her by her royal mis-
tress, and her young and blooming- countenance came
into close contact with the still fine but rapidly fading
face of Louise de Savoie, the contrast was striking.

The King, at the termination of the presentations,
traversed the apartment, courteously addressing the
local functionaries, and arranging with his favourite
courtiers the pursuits of the following day ; but it was
evident to all about him that his thoughts frequently
wandered ; and he no sooner found himself at liberty
to yield to his own inclination without a breach of that
court etiquette of which he was so punctiliously ob-
servant, than he returned to the immediate circle of
his mother ; first, however, approaching his sister, with
whom, as well as with her friend, he entered into an
animated conversation, which once more brought back
a gloom to the cheeks of the Countess. He neverthe-
less eagerly obeyed the summons of Madame d'Angou-
leme, who ere long recalled him to her side; where,
although he listened deferentially to some communi-
cation which she made to him, his eyes were constantly
fixed upon the beautiful maid of honour.

" I am lost," murmured the Countess, as she
anxiously watched the expression of the King's
countenance.

" Take courage," whispered Marguerite in reply ;
" this is, believe me, a mere passing fancy ; and you
are well aware that my royal brother has never been
distinguished for his constancy. Anne de Pisseleu is
undoubtedly very attractive; but she is still a mere
girl, who will feel rather terrified than flattered by such
undisguised admiration."

Francis I 299

" She displays no fear," sighed Madame de Cha-
teaubriand.

" True," persisted the Princess ; " but neither does
she exhibit any exultation. She is as calm and as ex-
pressionless as a statue. You have claims upon the
King which he will not overlook. Maintain your self-
command, and rest assured that you are safe."

And, even knowing what she did of the habits and
temperament of Francis, Madame d'Alen^on had faith
in her own words.

CHAPTER XL

The Italian League is Paralysed — Alarm of the Pope — The
Pope Enters into a League with Pompeio Colonna — Colon-
na Marches on Rome — The Pontiff Takes Refuge in the
Castle of St. Angelo — Clement VII. Capitulates — Francis is
Suspected by the Italian States — Is Justified by the National
Poverty — Bourbon Marches to Milan as the Lieutenant of
the Emperor — Despair of the Milanese — The Vow of Bour-
bon— Mistaken Trust — Bourbon Marches on Rome — Death
of Bourbon — The Sack of the Eternal City — Alarm of Chris-
tian Europe — Francis Visits the Capital — The Chancellor-
Priest — A Parliamentary Mistake — Injustice of Francis-
Trial of De Semblancay — The Duchesse d'Usez — Contrast be-
tween the Court and the Capital — Chambord — Royal Festivi-
ties^— The Court Beauties — Disorderly State of the Metropolis
— Influence of the Astrologers — Cornelius Agrippa and His
Royal Patroness — The College of the Sorbonne — Guillaume
Buchardt — The Sanctuary — Francis Sends Envoys to Spain
— Wolsey Visits France — The Hand of Marguerite de Valois
is Demanded for Henry VIII. — The Princess Declines the
Marriage — Francis Refuses to Bestow His Sister-in-law on
the English King — Wolsey Returns to England — Charles V.
Disclaims the Responsibility of the Siege of Rome — The
Kings of England and France Despatch a Combined Army to
Italy under the Command of Lautrec.

THE Italian league was paralysed by the supine-
ness of the French King. The Swiss levies
which were to have been raised by the Pope and the

300

Francis I 301

Venetians did not arrive, and the Due d'Urbino, the
general-in-chief, refused to attack the Spanish army
without their aid; while the Pontiff, who possessed
neither energy nor talent sufficient for the emergency
in which he found himself, was alternately giving way
to his resentments, and yielding to the terror inspired
by the consequences of his own imprudence. Dis-
trustful of his new allies, and without confidence even
in his troops, he gave contradictory orders, which
harassed those under his control without advancing
his interests ; and at length, anxious to secure himself
in peace in his capital, he offered terms to the Colonna
family, who were his declared and inveterate enemies,
and was even short-sighted enough to enter into a
treaty with them, and to disband his forces in Ro-
magna; an error of which the Cardinal Pompeio
Colonna* instantly took advantage, by arming all his
feudatories and dependents, and marching so rapidly
and impetuously upon Rome, that the Pope was com-
pelled to shut himself up in the castle of St. Angelo ;
while the Cardinal, at the head of eight thousand men,
passed the gates of the city, pillaged the Vatican and
St. Peter's, and besieged the Pontiff in the citadel.
Thus pressed, Clement VII. found himself under the
necessity of suing for peace; and through the medi-
ation of Ugo de Moncada, Colonna consented to
withdraw his troops from Rome on condition that
the Pontiff should afford no aid, either directly

♦Pompeio Colonna, Bishop of Rieti, was created Cardinal by Leo X.,
but was deprived of all his ecclesiastical revenues by Clement VII., who,
however, restored them when Colonna saved his life at the sack of
Rome, and made him legate at Ancona. He subsequently became Vice-
roy of Naples, and died in 1532, at the age of fifty-three years.

302 Reign of

or indirectly, to the league, for the space of four
months.

The prolonged inaction of Francis at length excited
the suspicion of the Italian states; and the court of
Rome in consequence despatched to France one of
their most able diplomatists, who was instructed to
exert himself to the utmost to discover if any intrigue
hostile to their interests were cloaked beneath this
apparent indifference ; and with authority, should such
prove to be the case, to offer certain concessions, in
order to induce the French cabinet at once to make
some demonstration in their favour. Guan Baptista
Sanga, the envoy in question, soon discovered, how-
ever, that little penetration was required to unravel
the seeming mystery, for that the nation was almost
bankrupt; while the revenues, collected tardily and
with difficulty, were forthwith swallowed up by the
exigencies of the court. He consequently assured his
government that they need fear no aggression from
France ; for that even were the duchy of Milan freely
tendered to the King at that moment, it would be de-
clined, however the secret wishes of Francis might
lean to its possession ; the Duchess-mother, the Chan-
cellor, and the council being resolved against it, and
the monarch himself so absorbed by pleasure as to be
careless of higher interests.

Aware that there was nothing to fear from the am-
bition of France, Sanga urged upon the ministers the
expediency of redeeming the pledge given by their
monarch; and at length it was resolved that a fleet,
consisting of four galleons and sixteen barks, which
was then arming at Marseilles, should proceed to

Francis I 303

Genoa under the command of Pietro da Navarro, who,
having been abandoned by Ferdinand of Aragon when
he was made prisoner by the French, had offered his
services to Francis, by whom they were at once joy-
fully received, and justly appreciated.

Navarro consequently sailed without further delay ;
and, on the 29th of August, joined the combined fleets
of the Pope and the Venetians ; while at the same time
a small force was despatched to Milan to the relief of
Fernando Sforza, under the Marquis de Saluzzo ; but,
as we have already shown, the expedition had been
too long delayed. Bourbon had landed in Italy, and
with the main body of the imperial army had marched
to Milan. When he entered the persecuted city, the
Duke was met on all sides by misery and expostula-
tion. Deputations of the magistrates and of the most
respectable citizens waited upon him with complaints
of the extortion and persecution to which they were
subjected by the Emperor's troops, whose rapacity
and licentiousness, long unchecked by their superior
officers, had reduced the inhabitants of the city to
absolute despair ; and assured him that their homes
were invaded, their hearths polluted, and their very
lives in danger.

Bourbon listened courteously and patiently to these
representations, admitting that he saw on every side
sufficient evidence of the correctness of their state-
ments; but he confessed himself unable to curb the
excesses of the troops by any other means than an
immediate distribution of their arrears of pay, which
he advised the inhabitants to raise, if possible, among
themselves ; declaring that they should no sooner have

304 Reign of

done so than he would evacuate the city, and encamp
his whole army beyond the walls.

To this proposal, however, the already impoverished
citizens demurred. They had no guarantee that after
making this new concession the Duke would perform
his promise ; and they had already suffered so severely
from the bad faith of the invading generals that ex-
perience had rendered them cautious. Their hesita-
tion irritated Bourbon, who at once divined its cause ;
and as they were about to retire, he said vehemently :
" Consider your own interests, Gentlemen. As mat-
ters stand, I am unable to secure you from pillage and
even from personal violence. By withdrawing the
troops I shall effect this easily, and you will do well
to trust me. I know that other pledges have been
given to you which have been broken ; but as for my-
self, I call God to witness that if I fail in performing
my promise, I wish that the first shot that is fired at
the next battle in which I am engaged may end my
life."

After so solemn a protestation as this the Milanese
authorities hesitated no longer. With extreme diffi-
culty they succeeded in raising thirty thousand ducats,
which they delivered to the Duke ; but once more they
saw themselves duped by the invading army. The
troops still continued to occupy the city ; and at length
committed such fearful enormities that many of the
burghers, driven to desperation, committed suicide in
order to terminate their sufferings.

At this period the Emperor might with ease have
subdued the whole of Italy, had he been in a position
to satisfy the demands of his army ; the Due d'Urbino

Francis I 305

still persisting in his resolution to avoid all contact
with the imperialist army until strongly reinforced;
but the want of funds to pay his troops rendered
Charles unable to profit by the opportunity, while the
lax state of discipline to which they were reduced gave
him little confidence in their fidelity. Bourbon, how-
ever, whose whole prospects were involved in the suc-
cess of the war, did not suffer himself to be disheart-
ened by such considerations. He was aware that he
possessed the affections of the soldiery, and he re-
solved not to yield an inch of the territory that he had
won.

The arrival of Frundsberg, a German adventurer,
who had already done good service at Pavia, and who
ultimately joined him with a strong body of lans-
quenets which he had raised at his own expense, in
order to share in the profits which must, as he was well
aware, accrue to the victors in the struggle, soon de-
termined him, moreover, to resume the offensive ; and
as he could no longer promise the troops that their
arrears would be supplied by the Emperor, he at once
inflamed their cupidity by proposing to them no less
an enterprise than the conquest of Rome, the plunder
of which treasure-teeming city would secure to them
not only help but affluence. The hatred of Frunds-
berg and his Germans alike to the person and to the
faith of the Pontiff secured their hearty co-operation
in the project ; and accordingly the imperialists, hav-
ing wrung from the unhappy inhabitants of Milan
their few remaining ducats, proceeded to Placenza,
where, however, on the 17th of March, Frundsberg
was struck by apoplexy, and Bourbon accordingly
Vol. II — 20

306 Reign of

assumed the command of their joint armies. Desti-
tute alike of money and provisions, the host moved
forward, plundering churches and villages, and
spreading terror upon their path, until on the 5th of
May they halted beneath the walls of the Eternal
City ; and on the following morning Bourbon, whose
armour was covered by a surcoat of cloth of silver,
himself raised a scaling-ladder, and calling upon his
men to follow him, prepared to lead the assault.

Scarcely, however, had he reached the third round
of the ladder when the fate which he had himself
evoked at Milan overtook him. The ball of a retreat-
ing sentinel, who, scared by the unexpected attack,
was hurriedly abandoning his post in order to give
the alarm, struck him on the breast, and he at once
became convinced that the wound was mortal. When
he fell he was surrounded by several of his most tried
and faithful friends ; and by a last effort he conjured
them to throw a cloak over his body, and to draw it
aside, in order that the troops might not be induced,
by the knowledge of his death, to abandon their enter-
prise. His request was complied with, and as they
removed him from the fatal spot, he breathed his last.
The command of the imperial army devolved by his
demise upon Philibert de Chalons, Prince of Orange,
whose proffered services, as we have already stated,
had been coldly accepted by Francis, and who had in
consequence transferred them to the Emperor, in
order, if possible, to revenge upon the French King
the mortification which he had experienced at his
hands.

Under his guidance, therefore, the eager army, un-

Francis I 307

conscious of the loss which they had sustained, pressed
on, incited alike by vengeance and cupidity ; and, after
a brief but bloody struggle, succeeded in rendering
themselves masters of the doomed city ; and then com-
menced the frightful sack of Rome, which has fur-
nished one of the darkest pages in the history of the
civilized world, during which nothing remained sacred
in the eyes of the invaders ; while the Pope and a body
of the Cardinals, who had succeeded in effecting their
escape to the castle of St. Angelo, were at length com-
pelled, after enduring for an entire month all the
horrors of daily increasing starvation, to capitulate
to the Prince of Orange; who ultimately took pos-
session, not only of the fortress, but also of the persons
of the Pontiff himself, and of thirteen of the conclave,
whom he retained prisoners until the pleasure of the
Emperor as to their ultimate disposal, should be de-
clared.

The fall of Rome occasioned general consternation
throughout Europe, and sufficed to arouse even Fran-
cis to a sense of the impolicy and bad faith of his own
want of energy, which had in a great degree conduced
to this terrible catastrophe. He could not forget that
it was by his persuasion the Pope had consented to a
war with Charles which he had previously been
anxious to avoid, and that he had been beguiled into
joining the league by promises which had never been
fulfilled. Instead of a powerful army, the French
King had supplied only an unimportant body of men,
who had, moreover, remained totally inactive ; and he
had asserted that England would co-operate with him,
while Henry VIII. had in point of fact remained pas-

308 Reign of

sive. In short, he had falsified every promise ; and he
now beheld with consternation the success of a rival
whom he had hitherto hated rather than feared.

An entire year had been consumed in the southern
provinces, where, regardless of all save his own per-
sonal gratification, Francis had permitted no public
cares to interfere with his career of lavish dissipation ;
but at the termination of that period the increasing
discontent of the nation, weary of the arrogant and
oppressive rule of the Duchess-mother and her min-
isters, rendered it imperative that he should visit the
capital. The death of the wife of Duprat had induced
the rapacious Chancellor immediately to enter into
holy orders, with a view to high and speedy ecclesiasti-
cal preferment; and his prescience had been rapidly
rewarded by the Archbishopric of Sens ; but as by the
demise of Etienne Poncher, the late prelate, the rich
abbey of Saint Benoit had also become vacant, he de-
termined to be at the same time his successor in that
government. Herein, however, he was met by the
objection that the Abbot must, according to an article
of the Concordat, be elected by the community them-
selves, and by the declaration that they had already
conferred the dignity upon Francois Poncher, Bishop
of Paris.

Enraged by this opposition to his will, Duprat, un-
deterred by any sense of justice, or any dread of pun-
ishment, took forcible possession of the abbey, and
imprisoned such of the monks as protested against
his usurpation ; when the Parliament, indignant at so
flagrant a disregard of judicial authority, opposed his
pretensions. But he found a powerful protector in

Francis I 309

Louise de Savoie, who represented their interference
to her son as an encroachment on his own privileges ;
and Francis, always jealously alive to any invasion of
his authority, at once resolved to hold a bed of justice,
at which all the great officers of the crown, presidents,
councillors, and other authorities, were summoned to
attend ; and where the Chancellor informed the Parlia-
ment that they were at liberty to make such repre-
sentations to the King as they might deem fitting.

Thus challenged, the first president, in the name of
the whole court, complained of the usurpation of the
Chancellor in the matter of the Abbey of Saint Benoit ;
declaring it to be a violation of the law, and praying
for its restitution to the elected abbot; but the elo-
quent spokesman, unfortunately infected by the at-
mosphere of the court, concluded his remonstrance by
an admission that " it would be a species of sacrilege
to question the royal power, as the Parliament were
aware that the King himself was above the law, and
could in all things act as he saw fit; while they were
equally convinced that he would be guided only by
equity and justice."

This ill-timed and unguarded concession secured
the triumph of the Chancellor; and in the course of
the same day the King published an edict by which he
forbade the Parliament thenceforward to interfere in
any matters of state, or of ecclesiastical preferment;
and declared their decrees upon all subjects, save those
which were purely judicial, to be null and void. He
likewise denounced their efforts to limit the power
which he had transferred to his mother, as well as that
which he had entrusted to the Chancellor; and con-

310 Reign of

eluded by proclaiming that save himself none had
authority above that of the Minister, and their opposi-
tion to his will was consequently of none effect, being
merely that of private individuals, who possessed no
right of control over his actions.

Nor was this the only demonstration of injustice
by which Francis signalized his return to his capital.
Louise de Savoie, the friend and mistress of Made-
moiselle de Heilly, who was rapidly undermining the
influence of the Comtesse de Chateaubriand, had ob-
tained, through her immoral and degrading encour-
agement of the licentiousness of her son, so perfect an
empire over his mind, that he had altogether ceased to
oppose her will ; and she therefore seized so favourable
a moment, to gratify her still undiminished hatred of
the unfortunate De Semblancay. Aided by Duprat,
who was ever ready to repay her good offices in kind,
she urged upon the King the propriety of terminating
the long captivity of the unfortunate Finance Minister
by a trial, which must either decide his innocence and
restore him to liberty, or, in the event of his guilt,
terminate an existence sullied by crimes worthy of an
ignominious death.

Anxious as he was to conform to her wishes in all
things, Francis nevertheless hesitated for a time to
comply with this suggestion. He remembered the
long and faithful services of the veteran statesman,
whom he had been accustomed to call " his father ; "
he recalled his boyish years, during which the unhappy
old man was ever ready alike with assistance and ad-
vice ; and he even expressed doubts of his delinquency :
but Louise de Savoie was not to be so silenced. She

Francis I 311

represented that if the King, who had'been principally
injured by the rapacity and peculations of the accused,
believed him to be innocent of the charges preferred
against him, it was probable that his judges would
prove equally lenient, when he would be free to retire,
and die in peace upon one of his own estates ; whereas
he was at present a captive in his old age, and suffer-
ing all the penalty of crime ; and this argument decided
Francis, who, glad of any pretext to escape from a
subject which wearied him, at length consented that
the victim should be put upon his trial.

Accordingly a court was convened, composed of
the creatures of Duprat; De Semblanqay was con-
fronted with his accusers; the judicial forms were
scrupulously observed: and after the accusations had
been read, he was called upon for his defence. Aged,
heartbroken, and moreover convinced that his fate was
already decided, the prison-worn old man was not
even yet utterly subdued ; and the energetic indigna-
tion with which he repelled the charges that were
brought against him, might have carried conviction
to the coldest heart. His eloquence, however, availed
nothing against the known will of his vindictive
enemy ; and on the 9th of August the zealous and de-
voted servant of four successive monarchs, the upright
Minister, and the honest, uncompromising victim of a
base revenge, was hanged at Montfaucon, in his sixty-
second year, like a common felon.

Anxious to divert the mind of the King from dwell-
ing upon a catastrophe which he might by an effort
of moral courage and good feeling have averted,
Louise de Savoie, on the evening of the execution,

312 Reign of

held a circle in her villa of the Tuileries, where Fran-
cis, in the society of Mademoiselle de Heilly, and the
other beauties of his mother's court, soon recovered
his gaiety. As he traversed the glittering bevy, he
paused to converse with the young and witty Duchesse
d'Usez ; and animated by her sparkling gaiety, he ad-
dressed her more than once as " my child," in order
not to check, by a more ceremonious appellation, the
flow of her vivacity. Nothing, however, could long
detain him from the side of the new favourite, and he
ere long made his way to the immediate circle of his
mother ; while the young Duchess no sooner saw her-
self at liberty to change her seat than she retreated to
a corner of the saloon, where, burying her face in her
hands, she appeared to have become a prey to the most
violent grief.

For a time this extraordinary display of emotion
passed unobserved ; but at length it attracted the at-
tention of her companions, who eagerly inquired the
cause of her emotion.

" Alas, alas ! " she exclaimed, wringing her hands,
" well may I weep. The King has just left me ; and
during our conversation he three distinct times called
me his ' child.' I am afraid of sharing the fate of
M. de Semblanqay, for you may remember that he
always called him his ' father ; ' and as the relation-
ship is equally close, I am dreading that ere long I
shall also be hanged at Montfaucon."

This exclamation, and the tragi-comic voice in
which it was uttered, elicited a peal of laughter which
even the etiquette of a court could not suppress. The
curiosity of both the King and his mother was excited,

Francis I 313

and they demanded to know the cause of this sudden
mirth, which, with some hesitation, was declared to
them. Francis joined in the general hilarity; but
Madame d'Angouleme, whose conscience was less at
ease, commanded the adventurous young Duchess to
retire to her own apartment; and accompanied the
order by a reprimand which effectually checked her
merriment.

The state of the court and that of the capital pre-
sented at this period a contrast alike great and deplor-
able. Before his departure for Italy, the King had
examined and approved the plan laid before him for
rebuilding the palace of Chambord, and despite the
general poverty of the nation, the Duchess-mother
had so energetically carried out his views that con-
siderable progress had been made before his return.
The celebrated Primaticcio,* whose splendid works in
stucco for the castle of T. in Mantua, had rendered his
name famous throughout the continent, had been
summoned to France in order to superintend the con-
struction of the new edifice, as it was the ambition of
Francis to render it more rich and splendid than any
of the regal residences of Italy, a design in which he
was ably seconded by the magnificence of his archi-
tect ; immense sums were wrung from the necessities
of the people, and placed at the disposal of the artist ;

* Francisco Primaticcio was born at Bologna, in 1490, and was of noble
family. He was the pupil of Innocenzia da Imola, and of Bagna Cavallo,
or Ramenghi. In 1540, Francis I. bestowed on him the abbey of Saint
Martin de Troyes, and commissioned him to execute, on his return to
Italy, a hundred and twenty-five statues and busts in bronze for the
palace of Fontainbleau, which was also profusely adorned by his paint-
ings. Appointed controller of the crown buildings by Henry II., and
commissary-general bf the national edifices by his successor Francis
II., he died alike wealthy and honoured, in the year 1570.

31 4 Reign of

and eighteen hundred workmen were engaged for the
space of twelve years, before the building had at-
tained to the degree of perfection which it ultimately
reached.

Nothing could exceed the gratification of the King
as he once more wandered through the woods of his
favourite retreat, and contemplated the gorgeous resi-
dence which even at this early period gave splendid
promise of its eventual magnificence. The ancient
castle of the Counts of Blois had totally disappeared ;
the contracted courts, enclosed by dense and gloomy
fortifications bristling with cannon, had been swept
away ; and the majestic palace now stood in the midst
of a park of twelve thousand acres, with a noble chase
abounding in deer and wild-boar, and surrounded by
a wall nearly eight leagues in extent ; while the river
Cosson meandered through banks of the richest grass,
or flowed through groups of forest timber, until it
ultimately laved the foundations of the edifice which
was reflected on its pellucid current as on the surface
of a glittering mirror. Within, the combined talents
of Jean Goujon* and Pierre Bontems had enriched its
saloons and galleries with the most delicate productions
of the sculptor's art ; while the gorgeous and graceful

♦Jean Goujon, one of the most famous sculptors and architects of
France, was a Parisian by birth, and was regarded as the restorer of
the art, and honoured by the appellation of the Correggio of sculpture,
from the extreme gracefulness and delicacy of his productions. His
most celebrated work was the Hunting Diana, so long the treasured
ornament of Malmaison. It was Goujon who constructed the Fontaine
des Innocents; while the principal number of the fine bas-reliefs of the
Louvre and the Hotel de Carnavalet also emanated from his chisel. He
was still engaged upon one of the former, when he was shot on the 24th
of August, 1572, at the massacre of St. Bartholomew, his religion having
caused his genius to be disregarded.

Francis I 315

frescoes of Leonardo da Vinci and Jean Cousin*
adorned the vestibules and corridors.

Thus, although still unfinished, the palace of Cham-
bord offered many attractions to the King ; who forth-
with withdrew from the capital, and commenced a
series of fetes at his favourite residence, by which he
soon became so thoroughly absorbed, as to forget for
a time alike the captivity of the Pope, and the watchful
enmity of the Emperor. Tourneys, carousals, hunt-
ing parties, balls, and banquets, succeeded each other
in endless variety; but while Francis still affected to
regard Madame de Chateaubriand as the presiding
deity, it soon became not only apparent to herself, but
also to those by whom she was surrounded, that her
star was rapidly paling before the influence of the
beautiful and artful Mademoiselle de Heilly.

Few, however, cared to sadden their own enjoyment
by regrets for the fallen favourite; the tide of time
seemed to all beside herself to flow over golden sands.
The wit of Marguerite de Valois — the superb beauty
of Diana de Poitiers — who, on the return of the King
had hastened to accept a situation in the household of

* Jean Cousin was an artist of extraordinary versatility, being at once
a painter, a sculptor, an architect, an engraver, and an anatomist. He
was born at Soucy, near Sens, in the year 1330, and became so celebrated
as to acquire the title of the Michael Angelo of France. His finest
work of sculpture was the mausoleum of the Admiral de Chabot; but it
was to his paintings upon glass that he was principally indebted for
his fame. In this delicate and difficult branch of art he excelled; all
the costly windows of the chapel of Vincennes were his work; and those
of the castle of Anet, executed entirely in grey and white; as well as a
full length figure of Francis I., remarkable for the extreme gorgeous-
ness of its colouring. It was Cousin who produced the first oil-painting
ever executed by a French artist; a large tableau representing the Last
Judgment, to which he, in all probability, owed his sobriquet. He died
in 1589, leaving behind him a Treatise on the Proportions of the Human
Body, highly esteemed by artists.

316 Reign of

the Duchess-mother which necessitated her constant
presence at court, and thus enabled her to exchange
the grim glories of Anet, and the paternal tenderness
of her aged husband, for the gilded pomp of Cham-
bord, and the flatteries of a young and gallant mon-
arch— the growing influence of the fascinating Anne
de Pisseleu — all combined to throw the timid and silent
sorrows of Madame de Chateaubriand into the shade.
None had leisure or inclination to remember how
recently they had coveted her smiles. The nature of
a courtier resembles that of the heliotrope ; while the
sun shines brightly, it expands, and embalms the space
about it ; but at the first appearance of a cloud it closes
upon itself, and no longer develops either perfume or
beauty.

Such, then, was the state of the court; all public
business still remained in the lands of Louise de Sa-
voie and her myrmidons, while the voice of passion
and of pleasure was alone suffered to intrude upon the
ears of her son. But meanwhile the capital of the
kingdom had become the very hot-bed of discontent,
licentiousness, and misrule.

The prolonged absence of the King, and the ca-
pricious, grasping, and tyrannical government of the
Duchess-mother had rendered the citizens desperate.
Well aware that they were impoverished to support
the profligacy of a court which was not even held in
the capital, they became reckless and violent. The nar-
row, unpaved, and unlighted streets were nightly the
scene of rapine, violence, and even murder. The guct,
or night-watch, composed of timid and indolent
burghers, for the most part unarmed from the dread

Francis I 317

which they entertained of bearing weapons in whose
use they were inexperienced, were constantly beaten
from their posts by the rabble of the city, and the bands
of disorderly students who prowled through the ob-
scure lanes and alleys in pursuit of mischief, even
attacking the royal musketeers, and committing the
most atrocious acts of violence upon the courtiers and
their adherents, whenever an opportunity presented
itself to indulge in such aggressions.

All, in short, was anarchy throughout Paris ; the
students of the Pre-aux-Clercs were linked with the
vilest ruffians in a close community of evil, which had
spread like a leprosy ; and these students were of them-
selves sufficient to destroy the safety and tranquillity
of the city. While the nobility, during their brief so-
journ in the metropolis, confined themselves to ex-
cursions in the forest of Saint Gervais, or the environs
of Romainville, their affected disgust, but actual ap-
prehension, abandoned to the lawless scholars all the
vast meadows which then covered the left bank of the
Seine from the old street of Saint Jacques to the walls
of the convent of Saint Germain ; while the vagabonds
and outlaws who formed at that period so considerable
a portion of the population, had, by an extraordinary
caprice for which it appears impossible to account,
selected as the scene of their orgies the frightful neigh-
bourhood of Montfaucon, where they danced, feasted,
and drank under the shadow of the gallows, which was
seldom free from its ghastly freight; and beneath this
fearful evidence of judicial authority and human justice
the most licentious and wanton excesses were of
nightly recurrence.

318 Reign of

Nor was the one great link between these three sev-
eral grades of society less to be reprehended than the
unhallowed use which each made of its especial pre-
rogative ; for that universal bond was created by a set
of fanatical charlatans and impostors, who assuming
to themselves the character of alchemists and astrolo-
gers, penetrated alike into the velvet-draped salons
of palaces, and the mud-walled hovels of the squalid
children of poverty and vice. In the present day it is
scarcely possible to induce a belief of the mysterious
and frequently pernicious influence exercised by these
impostors; who, while outwardly affecting to be ab-
sorbed in the occult labours of their calling, were in
fact the vendors of poisons and other deleterious drugs,
by which human life was constantly perilled, and
human caution as perpetually rendered useless.

Even Louise de Savoie herself, whose strength of
character and firmness of will might have been sup-
posed to exempt her from all such puerile superstitions,
took into her service the celebrated Cornelius Agrippa ;
who, much as he detested the arrogant and imperious
Duchess, consented to join her household in the double
capacity of physician and astrologer, although he soon
betrayed that the motive by which he had been influ-
enced was wholly unconnected with the liberal salary
that he received ; for when consulted as to the fate of
the Due de Bourbon, on his first admission to her
presence, he gratified his secret animosity to his royal
mistress by prophesying the success of the Duke in all
his undertakings, and his signal triumph over his ene-
mies ; an indiscretion which so exasperated the Regent
that he was summarily dismissed, deprived of his pen-

Francis I 319

sion, and forbidden the court; for which severity he
revenged himself by the publication of a bitter satire,
wherein he likened his late patroness to Jezebel, and
drew so forcible a parallel between the two individuals
that he was compelled to save his life by a speedy flight
from the French territories. Suffice it that crime, im-
posture, and wretchedness had reached their acme in
the metropolis of France; and that the very seats of
learning and science were polluted by the ignorance
and superstition of those by whom they were tenanted.
Nor was even the ancient college of the Sorbonne
exempted from the general degradation ; for at the
period of which we write, this dwelling of the most
erudite doctors of the university, and the members of
the Chambre Ardcnte, whose duties consisted in try-
ing all cases of alleged magic and sorcery, rather re-
sembled a fortress than the abode of men of letters.
It was, in fact, a species of vast and sombre stronghold,
defended by ditches, ramparts, towers, bridges, and
all the accessories of a place of war : while its occupants
were more than suspected of illegal and mysterious
practices which required all the protection external
circumstances could afford. The spies of the Sor-
bonne invaded, unsuspected, every hearth throughout
the capital, and influenced every popular movement;
nor did even the government escape their machina-
tions. The celebrated syndic Noel Bedier, a man as
unprincipled as he was talented, had attained to such
supremacy over the spirits of the people that he had
become the actual sovereign of the capital, and by his
ability in exciting the passions of the mob, had made
himself feared not only by the magistrature, but even

320 Reign of

by the King himself. Alike unscrupulous and ambi-
tious, he did not suffer himself to be deterred from any
object by considerations either of law, loyalty, or
justice ; but whenever his claims were disallowed, or
his demands resisted by the authorities, at once armed
the students and led them to the Palace of the Tour-
nelles, to compel by force the concessions which had
been refused to his arguments.

This measure, bold and presumptuous as it was, sel-
dom failed to prove successful; for not even the dis-
ciplined troops of Francis could make head against so
formidable a band of opponents as that with whom,
upon such occasions, the turbulent syndic deluged the
streets of the capital. Not only were the sturdy and
discontented scholars ever ready to obey his bidding,
and prepared to second him in every act of violence,
but they had secured as their auxiliaries all that house-
less, lawless, and vagabond class of the population
recognised under the general name of maltotiers, the
very refuse and scum of an ill-organized and licentious
capital, and which consisted of thieves, emancipated
felons, discharged soldiers, foreign adventurers, and
other rabble, whose means of existence depended en-
tirely upon their wits.

With these outcasts the Grand Master had estab-
lished a perfect understanding by signals and watch-
words known only to themselves; and the horns of
the students no sooner sounded behind the old walls
of the Sorbonne than they were answered by a shrill
cry from the depths of the Cour des Miracles, the
rendezvous of these vagrants, and a general rush was
made towards the gloomy pile whose tenants they

Francis I 321

were thus called upon to assist or to defend. No prin-
cipal gate gave entrance to the college, but numerous
small doors had been constructed on each of its sides,
which were constantly watched from within, in order
that immediate ingress might be secured by any of
the students, who, when hotly pressed by the archers
of the guard, found it desirable to effect a retreat ; or
by some guilty ally of the indulgent university who
sought an asylum against justice. Once within the
walls, no criminal could be seized, even by order of
the King himself, the power and privileges which had
been accorded to the institution placing it beyond royal
jurisdiction; and in every case the delays created by
the syndic ensuring the escape of the culprit.

Such was the condition of Paris; shunned by the
proud and the wealthy, groaning under a heavy weight
of taxation which crushed its citizens to the earth, and
delivered over nightly to the saturnalia of a host of
reckless and desperate ruffians, who acknowledged no
law save their own will, and no authority save that of
their elected chief. And yet Francis I. slumbered at
his post ; he disdained to measure his strength with a
rabble who, in the hope of largess, shouted and cried
Noel as he traversed the city streets; he refused to
hearken to the remonstrances of his burghers, whose
industry and enterprise could alone have restored the
prosperity of the capital ; and he resolutely pursued
his headlong career of pleasure and profusion with a
mine ever ready to spring beneath his feet.

Soon, however, he was compelled by the general
indignation felt throughout Europe at the continued
captivity of the Pope, to arouse himself from the dream
Vol. II.— 21

322 Reign of

of selfish indulgence to which he had yielded, and to
send envoys to Spain, as Henry VIII. was also pre-
paring to do, to negotiate for the liberation of the
Pontiff, and to demand an explanation of the Em-
peror's intentions relative to the sacred person of his
prisoner.

The two monarchs had long been engaged in a
treaty for the marriage of Francis with the Princess
Mary of England, the French King being anxious to
evade the alliance of the Dowager-Queen of Portugal ;
and as the increased and increasing power of Charles
gave them augmented cause for alarm, they became
more than ever anxious to consolidate their friend-
ship. By the terms of this treaty, which had been
signed on the 20th of April, by the Bishop of Tarbes
and the Viscount de Turenne, on the part of Francis,
it was agreed that the daughter of Henry VIII. should
become the wife of the French King, should he be
enabled to liberate himself from his engagement with
the Emperor's sister, and remain a widower until the
Princess should have attained a marriageable age ; or
in default of the monarch himself, that she should give
her hand to the Due d'Orleans, his second son, at
the same period ; while the English monarch was, on
his side, to renounce his claim to the title of King of
France, on consideration of receiving the annual sum
of five millions of crowns; to join the league then
forming against the Emperor; and to furnish in the
month of June following, a force of nine thousand in-
fantry, to which Francis was to add eighteen thousand
foot, and a proportionate body of lances ; the whole of
which combined army was to march into Spain, to

Francis I 323

summon the Emperor to deliver up the persons of the
French Princes upon the payment of two millions in
gold as their ransom money ; and in case of his refusal
to accede to this proposition, to declare war against
him in form.

The captivity of Clement VIL, however, rendered
some modification of this first treaty essential to the
interests of both kingdoms ; and, accordingly, on the
29th of May, it was decided by a second negotiation
that the French army should alone undertake the in-
vasion of Italy, while England should furnish the
monthly sum of thirty thousand crowns, to defray the
expenses of the war; and, finally, in order to obviate
all possibility of future disagreement or misapprehen-
sion, the English monarch decided to despatch the
Cardinal-legate once more to France, in order that
every article of the treaty should be duly and defini-
tively arranged between Francis and himself.

The mission was one which enabled the haughty
minister to indulge without restraint in that inordinate
ostentation which formed so striking a feature in his
character; and he accordingly set forth with a train
rather befitting a sovereign than a subject. Having
taken leave of Henry, he travelled on the first day from
his palace of Hampton Court to Stone, in Kent, where
he passed a night at Stone Place, the seat of Sir Rich-
ard Wingfield; and on the morrow at day-break he
resumed his journey, accompanied by the Bishop of
London, the Earl of Derby, and Sir Thomas More,
and attended by a train of noblemen and gentlemen,
who preceded him three abreast, all clad in velvet and
satin, and wearing massive chains of gold about their

324 Reign of

necks. In the van of these rode a body of the Cardi-
nal's yeomen, and upwards of two hundred serving
men in his liveries of orange-tawny, with his initials
and Cardinal's hat embroidered upon the breasts of
their doublets; while immediately before him were
borne two tall crosses of beaten silver, two ponderous
staves of the same precious metal, and his hat, and
embroidered cloak-bag. Wolsey himself, according
to his usual habit, bestrode, in affected humility, a sleek
and ambling mule; but the magnificence of his ap-
parel, and a led horse, richly caparisoned, for his occa-
sional use, converted the seeming meekness into a
pungent epigram ; and thus, " the observed of all ob-
servers," he travelled to the coast ; and with the same
brilliant retinue, and in the same lordly pride, landed
in France, where, having reached Amiens, he was re-
ceived by Francis with all the state and ceremonial
which could have been observed towards Henry him-
self.

The conferences lasted for a fortnight, and during
that period nothing was omitted on the part of the
French King and his courtiers which could flatter the
vanity and arrogance of the English Minister; every
hour that could be wrested from public business was
devoted to the most sumptuous entertainments ; and
as a mutual anxiety to complete and consolidate an
amicable arrangement existed on both sides, four sepa-
rate treaties were ultimately concluded ; Wolsey, in
conjunction with four other cardinals, addressing at
the same time a letter of respectful sympathy to the
Pope, in which they entreated him to appoint a vicar-
general as the representative of his authority on the

Francis I 325

northern side of the Alps, in order that the interests
of the Church might not suffer during his captivity.

From Amiens the Cardinal-Minister accompanied
the French King to Compiegne, in order, as he af-
firmed, to pay his respects to the Duchess-mother ; and
once more his reception was magnificent in the ex-
treme. The lovely and brilliant court of Louise de
Savoie put forth all its attractions, and balls, banquets,
and other amusements filled up the time so fully that
there scarcely appeared space for more serious occu-
pation. Nevertheless, Wolsey did not suffer himself
to be engrossed by these diversions ; but after having
confided to Francis the conscientious misgivings of
the English monarch on the subject of his marriage
with Katherine of Aragon, and his determination to
have it annulled by a Papal bull, he seized a favourable
moment to suggest to the French King the policy of
effecting an alliance between his own sovereign and
Marguerite de Valois.

The cheek of Francis flushed, and his brow grew
dark.

" Your Eminence is, perhaps, not aware," he said
evasively, " that the hand of Madame d'Alengon is
promised to the Due de Bourbon."

" But your Majesty cannot possibly contemplate the
completion of such an engagement," persisted Wolsey.
" The King of France would assuredly never bestow
his sister in marriage upon a traitor."

" I have, in truth, no such intention," was the cold
reply ; " but, nevertheless, until the engagement shall
have been dissolved, she is no longer free. Where
there exists a previous and still unbroken tie, no new
bond can be valid."

326 Reign of

The Cardinal bit his lip. " The Duchess may her-
self refuse to ratify a pledge given without her sanc-
tion," he said at length cautiously.

" Her refusal shall in that case suffice," replied Fran-
cis ; " for I will never consent to sacrifice her happi-
ness to any consideration of state policy. All I can
do therefore, Monseigneur, is to refer you to Madame
d'AlenQon herself. Let her decide."

" I can require no more," said the haughty Cardinal,
with a profound bow, and an almost imperceptible
smile ; " the crown of England, and the hand of its
young and chivalrous monarch, can scarcely be re-
jected by one of the proud blood of Valois."

The Primate had, however, miscalculated the nature
of the proud blood which he thus insidiously vaunted ;
for Marguerite de Valois replied to his degrading pro-
posal with the most complete and unmitigated disdain ;
reminding him of the friendship which had existed
between the ill-fated Katherine and her sister-in-law
Queen Claude ; and declaring that she never would be
accessory to an act of tyranny and injustice. In vain
did the Cardinal represent that the delicacy of his sov-
ereign's conscience alone induced him to consent to
the contemplated divorce; the Duchess was immov-
able; and Francis had begun to congratulate himself
upon escaping through her means from a difficulty
which threatened to dissolve the friendship between
himself and his brother-monarch, when Wolsey, un-
deterred by the scorn of Madame d'Alengon, after
courteously lamenting the failure of a project which
promised, as he affirmed, such beneficial results to
both kingdoms, affected suddenly to remember that

Francis I 327

there was another method by which their respective
interests might still be equally assured ; and, with un-
blushing pertinacity, suggested to the French King
that, in lieu of that of his sister, he should bestow upon
Henry the hand of the Princess Renee, the sister of
his late wife.

Herein, however, he was destined to be again baffled ;
for Francis himself instantly and resolutely refused his
sanction to an alliance which would weaken his claim
to the Duchy of Brittany ; and without any appeal to
the Princess, at once negatived the proposal. Wolsey
was accordingly compelled to take leave of the French
court without having accomplished the object which
was without doubt the principal motive of his mission ;
and, without further delay, he returned to England
with the same state and splendour as he had quitted it,
enraged at the disappointment to which he had been
subjected, but too politic to betray a symptom of his
annoyance.

The sack of Rome, and the death of Bourbon, which
occurred shortly after this embassy, only served to
aggravate the difficulties of the French King; espe-
cially as his own envoys and those of England obtained
nothing of the Emperor save his renunciation of the
Duchy of Burgundy, and a circular addressed to the
several sovereigns of Europe, in which he disclaimed
all the responsibility of the siege, and explained the
circumstances which had led to that disastrous event.
He declared himself to have been injured and deceived ;
affirmed that he had never instructed the Due de Bour-
bon to attack the holy city ; and concluded by assert-
ing that, although the troops of the latter marched

328 Francis I

under the imperial banner, they did not recognise his
own authority ; and that as the Duke himself had been
killed at the very commencement of the assault, they
had subsequently acted without instructions, and en-
tirely according to the dictates of their own will.

But despite this deprecatory document, Charles was
ill at ease. Gratified as he might be by feeling that he
held in his own power the person of the Pope, he was
nevertheless embarrassed by this very consideration.
His first impulse had been to remove him into Spain,
in order that his custody might be more complete ; but
he was soon convinced of the impolicy of this project
by the remonstrances of his own council, and the de-
termined opposition of his Italian army ; and thus he
found himself compelled to abandon the design.

As the cold and unsatisfactory reply of the Emperor
gave them no guarantee for his ultimate acceptance
of the proposed terms, neither Henry nor Francis felt
himself bound to await further concessions ; and they
accordingly prepared to put the terms of their treaty
in force, by the organization of an army which was to
be maintained at their joint charge, under the com-
mand of the Marechal de Lautrec, to whom it was
confided at the express request of the English King.
The troops were soon in motion ; but before they had
crossed the Alps, Francis effected a second treaty with
Sforza and the states of Venice and Florence, who,
eager to disembarrass Italy of the imperialist soldiery,
were readily induced each to furnish their quota of
troops in aid of the enterprise ; and once more the
power of Charles was threatened by a confederated
army.

CHAPTER XII.

Rivalry between the Two Favourites — Remonstrances of
Madame de Chateaubriand — Royal Recriminations — The
Palace of the Tournelles — Marriage a-la-mode — Anne de
Pisseleu Created Duchesse d'Etampes — Diana de Poitiers —
Last Interview of Francis and Madame de Chateaubriand —
Madame de Chateaubriand Leaves the Court — The Jewel-
Casket — Marriage of Marguerite de Valois and the King
of Navarre — Domestic Dissensions — The Court of Beam —
The Queen's Saloon — Marguerite Protects the Reformers,
and is Persecuted by the Sorbonne — Partial Conversion
of Henry of Navarre to Lutheranism — False Position of
the Princess.

THE political interests of his kingdom had, how-
ever, even while they compelled him to devote
a portion of his time to public business, failed to with-
draw Francis altogether from his more cherished pur-
suits. The favour of Mademoiselle d'Heilly increased
daily; and became at length so undisguised, that the
Comtesse de Chateaubriand, reluctant as she was to
admit the truth even to herself, began to apprehend
that her influence over the fickle mind of the monarch
was lost forever. The Duchesse d'Angouleme, satis-

329

33° Reign of

fied by her success in having undermined the power
of a favourite who had dared to enter into a rivalry
with herself, affected not to perceive the daily increas-
ing passion of her son for the frail maid-of-honour, but
flung herself totally into politics, leaving the intrigues
of the court to unravel their own consequences; and
her resolution of neutrality no sooner became evident,
than an incessant struggle commenced between the
rival beauties, which produced two several but very
unequal factions among the courtiers. The Countess,
relying on the assurance of Marguerite de Valois,
trusted to old associations to win back her royal lover,
but she had miscalculated the nature of the profligate
monarch ; those very memories ensured her failure.
In vain did she remind him that for his sake she had
abandoned home, and husband, and child; his retort
was ready: —

" But, Madame, that was years ago. Time must
long ere this have plucked the sting from so great a
sacrifice."

" I have loved you, Sire," persisted the former
favourite, while the tears rained down her pale cheeks
unchecked, for she remembered the early effect of
those tears, " as sovereign was never loved before, —
not for your crown — not for your proud name — but
wholly for yourself; and I have loved you devotedly
and entirely."

" Not entirely, Madame ; you forget the Admiral."

"How, Sire!" exclaimed the Countess indignantly;
" because it amused me to sport with the harmless
vanity of M. de Bonnivet, would you make a crime of
my thoughtless gaiety ? "

Francis I 331

" By no means," said the King- drily ; " whatever
others may have done. But all this is idle, Madame.
Of what do you complain ? Have I forbidden you the
court. Have I failed in courtesy to one of the fairest
ornaments of my circle? Surely you are unreason-
able."

" I am answered, Sire," said the Countess, with a
profound salutation and a sinking heart ; " I have de-
tained your Majesty too long."

Francis replied by a bow as ceremonious as her own ;
and Madame de Chateaubriand, after hesitating for a
moment as if to assure herself that all was indeed over
between them, slowly withdrew from his side, and was
lost in the crowd with which the saloon was filled;
while the King, wearied by a scene in which he could
not fail to feel that he had acted an ungenerous part,
hastened to the side of Mademoiselle de Heilly, in
order to overcome his annoyance.

Affairs of state having called Francis to Paris, the
secret of the new favourite's entire ascendancy was
unblushingly revealed; for at his express desire the
Duchess-mother, instead of inhabiting her residence at
the Tuileries, took up her abode at the palace of the
Tournelles, where one of the many towers whence it
derived its name was fitted up with lavish splendour for
Anne de Pisseleu. On the platform of the tower a pa-
vilion had been erected, which commanded an extensive
view, not only of the city itself, but of the whole of the
surrounding country. Windows of richly-painted glass,
executed by the skilful pencil of Jean Cousin, admitted
a subdued and gorgeous light, and every luxury which
could be compressed within so confined a space, was

332

Reign of

made subservient to her caprices. This tower, which
was connected with that habitually occupied by the
King himself, had formerly been appropriated to
Queen Claude, and had since her death hitherto re-
mained untenanted ; but none who remembered it dur-
ing the lifetime of that pure and pious lady would have
recognised it when prepared for its new mistress. The
dark and richly-carved oaken prie-dieu was replaced
by a marble group from the chisel of Jean Goujon,
which awakened no associations of piety ; the modest
bed, with its heavy hangings of tapestry, was ex-
changed for a couch draped with blue velvet, and
raised several feet from the floor, as if even in sleep
the pampered favourite were destined to assert her
triumph over the neglected Queen; rare and costly
toys were scattered on every side ; and the shrine was
worthy of its idol, for all around was glare, glitter, and
empty pomp.

Still Mademoiselle de Heilly was not happy. Un-
like the discarded Countess, she had fallen without
remorse. Both her nature and her education had
fitted her to prove an easy victim ; and her first step
in vice had rather excited than satisfied her ungovern-
able passions. It is also certain that she never loved
in Francis more than his rank, and the opportunity
which it afforded for the gratification of an ambition
as uncompromising as it was insatiable ; and the frail
maid of honour was not long ere she discovered that
her heart was independent of her vanity. She was,
moreover, still distrustful of the influence of her rival ;
and it was consequently with unconcealed displeasure
that she heard the King propose her own immediate

Francis I 333

marriage as a means of securing to her a rank at court
which should render their intimacy less remarkable,
and assure to her the privileges of which she was now
deprived.

" Are you so soon weary of me ? " she asked, as her
large and searching eyes were riveted upon him.

" On the faith of a gentleman, ma mie," replied
Francis, " I never loved you so well as at this moment ;
but I would fain save you from the lampoons of the
poetasters, and the jests of the courtiers."

" I scorn alike the one and the other," was the
haughty retort; "the friend of Francis of France can
care little for the envious sneers of an idle rabble, be
they of what rank they may; but Anne de Pisseleu
may be allowed to hesitate before she submits to the
authority of a husband."

The King laughed. " There shall be no need for
such a sacrifice," he said, as he pressed her fingers to
his lips. " Francis of France can as ill brook a rival
as Anne de Pisseleu can submit to the thraldom of
conjugal supremacy ; and well you know that I have
sworn to you an eternal fidelity."

" To me, in my turn," said the bold favourite, avert-
ing her head, and affecting to conceal her tears.

" How now ! What mean you, Mademoiselle ? "
asked the monarch almost angrily. " Have I ever
forfeited my royal word ? "

" I was thinking of Madame de Chateaubriand,"
said the maid of honour, with a petty pout, " and
of "

" Enough, ma mie," interposed Francis with a
frown. " Let the future speak for itself ; it is unwise

334

Reign of

in both of us to look back upon the past. When I give
you a husband, I shall give you rank, wealth, and con-
sideration, but nothing more. Can you not trust
me?"

Mademoiselle de Heilly had already become aware
that she had ventured too much ; and accordingly she
shook back her long dark ringlets with a playful gest-
ure, and glancing at the still overshadowed counte-
nance of the monarch with a playful smile, she answered
the question by another still more pertinent : " But
are you quite sure, even you, the King of France, that
so indulgent a husband can be found? And are you
prepared to convince me that this threatened marriage
will not separate me from my lord and sovereign ? "

" To your first inquiry I reply, Anne," said the en-
amoured monarch, " that the meek and careless hus-
band is already found ; and to the second, that in se-
curing your advancement, I have not lost sight of my
own claims."

And Francis spoke the truth. The ready tool of a
licentious master had been secured in the person of
the Comte Jean de Brosse, the son of the Comte Rene
and of a daughter of Philippe de Commines. Rene
had been a partisan of Bourbon, whose cause he had
espoused, and under whose banner he had fallen at
the battle of Pavia. His estates had been in conse-
quence confiscated; and the young Count, impover-
ished and disgraced, had, since his father's rebellion,
dragged on an existence of penury and neglect by
which his spirit had been broken and his pride pros-
trated. Of all his inheritance he had preserved only
his honour, but this had hitherto remained unsullied ;

Francis I 335

and those who still felt an interest in his fallen fortunes,
had been accustomed to regard him with a respect and
pity of which, upon the first temptation, he proved
himself unworthy ; for, dazzled by the prospect of re-
turning to the court ennobled and enriched, he wilfully
closed his eyes to the degradation by which these ad-
vantages were to be purchased, and readily acceded
to the wishes of the King, by consenting to become the
husband of the royal favourite upon the terms which
were submitted to him.

His complaisance was richly repaid; all his estates
were restored, he was appointed Governor of Bur-
gundy, received the collar of St. Michael, was created
Comte, and subsequently Due d'Etampes, and accepted
the hand of Mademoiselle de Heilly towards the end of
the year 1526.

Nor had the King miscalculated the amount of his
gratitude. The new Duchess was exposed to no
remonstrances, subjected to no matrimonial interfer-
ence, but assumed the dignity of her new rank without
one reproach or representation calculated to sadden
her triumph, or to humble her vanity. The court, it
is true, was merry at the expense of the new-made
benedict, but Jean de Brosse heroically entered upon
his dearly purchased privileges, and found in osten-
tation and self-indulgence a lethe for his shame.

Madame d'Etampes no sooner became the acknowl-
edged and official mistress of the sovereign, than the
whole of the court circle were at her feet ; and, had she
only been known by the puerile and fulsome effusions
of Marot and Sainte-Marthe, her name might have
descended to posterity as that of the most gifted and

336 Reign of

virtuous of her sex; but unhappily, poetry is not al-
ways truth. Gifted, indeed, she was, and beautiful:
" Fair 'mid the learned, learned 'mid the fair," as the
latter poet had justly sung; but her gifts were per-
verted, and her beauty desecrated by vice. Envious,
haughty, revengeful, licentious, grasping, ambitious,
and mean, she seemed expressly created to pursue the
disgraceful but brilliant career upon which she had so
unhesitatingly entered.

Aware of her power over the King, the power of a
strong mind over a weak one — and in his commerce
with women Francis had constantly betrayed his weak-
ness— her arrogance soon exceeded all bounds. In
her respect for the Duchess-mother she never failed,
for she had tact enough to profit by the example of
Madame de Chateaubriand, and to avoid a rivalry
which might ultimately terminate in her own disgrace ;
but there her forbearance ended; for the excessive
love and devotion of the King, and the universal adu-
lation by which she was surrounded, so inflated her
vanity, that she regarded all other enmity as trivial and
unimportant ; nor did she deceive herself. In a short
time all court favour and court advancement were to
be successfully sought only at her hands ; and she used
her influence without scruple or compunction.

Nevertheless, however, the royal favourite was not
even yet altogether free from anxiety. She saw and
felt her power, it is true, but she doubted its stability ;
for she was aware that her defeated rival had still a
powerful supporter in the Duchesse d'Alencon, who
had never ceased to exhibit her annoyance at the cold-
ness which had been latterly evinced by the King

Francis I 337

towards her friend. Nor was this all ; for another and
a threatening star had arisen on the court horizon, in
the person of the superb Diana de Poitiers, who had,
to use the quaint words of a chronicler of the period,
" long made a hole in the roof of the chateau of Anet ; "
and abandoning her aged husband and his gloomy
domain for the brilliant circle of royalty, proved how
little the restraints of wedded life were suited to her
free and volatile tastes.

It is probable that Louise de Savoie, although she
had, as we have already shown, ceased to take an
active part in the intrigues by which the time of her
son was almost entirely occupied, did not see without
a certain satisfaction the undisguised pleasure with
which he on all occasions welcomed the presence of
La Grande Senechale, as it tended to create a diver-
sion calculated to render the Duchesse d'Etampes
more cautious than she might otherwise have been in
exhibiting her influence over the monarch ; while the
position of Diana herself, as the wife of a powerful
noble, who, either out of weakness or cowardice, still
continued, despite the levity of her conduct, to afford
to her at least the protection of his name, and to close
his ears to the rumours which were rife against her
fair fame, gave her a marked advantage over the
parvenu Duchess, who was herself far from uncon-
scious of the fact.

But although Francis betrayed, almost carelessly,
his admiration of the magnificent Madame de Breze,
and that there were not wanting many tongues which
were ready to assert, that from the period of her father's
reprieve, her veteran husband had found it expedient
Vol. II. — 22

338 Reign of

to remain blind to her understanding with the King,
it is certain that no public or ostentatious exhibition of
his preference escaped her royal admirer, who gave no
evidence of seeking the rivalship of the dissolute court
poet, or the half score of idle young nobles who sported
her colours in the lists, and murmured her name over
their wine-cups.

And the secret was an easy one to read. Diana
possessed only her beauty, for at this period she was
still too unlettered in the lore of a court to assume the
semblance of a feeling by which she was not really
actuated. Her nature was weak, but not yet entirely
vitiated. Naturally greedy of admiration, she valued
the homage paid to her attractions for its own sake,
caring little for the rank of him by whom the incense
was offered up. Marot sang her praises in melodious
verse, and she smiled upon the reckless and unprinci-
pled minstrel who ministered to her vanity. He pro-
fessed to love her alone, and she did not seek to doubt
his sincerity. In a word, Diana de Poitiers was still
in the infancy of vice ; passion had not yet seared her
heart ; and all that she sought to do was to live on, in
the splendour of her beauty and of her triumph, tramp-
ling upon the past, and careless of the future.

In this phase of her existence the monarch was to
her only another and a distinct admirer. She did not
speculate upon the consequences of his preference, nor
seek to aggrandize herself by his smiles. Her beauty
was, indeed, a barbed arrow ; but her total absence of
knowledge of the world had plucked away the feather
by which its aim is guided. Little, therefore, at this
period had Anne de Pisseleu to dread from the

Francis I 339

pleasure-loving Diana, although there were moments
in which she felt disposed to apprehend the contrary ;
nor was the rivalry of even Franchise de Foix more
dangerous ; for the meek and timid Countess, although
still beautiful and fascinating, had lost the charm of
novelty, and was, moreover, ignorant of those more
refined and unscrupulous arts of coquetry in which she
was herself an adept, and which were so well calculated
to enthral the profligate nature of Francis.

A struggle had, indeed, commenced between the
past and the present favourite, but it was too unequal
to leave any doubt of its ultimate result. The tears of
Madame de Chateaubriand were far less captivating
than the smiles of the Duchesse d'Etampes ; and the
regrets of the one were tedious after the blandishments
of the other. In affairs of the heart the past is power-
less, while the present is all in all ; and although the
betrayed Countess did not venture upon reproach, she
was soon taught to feel that there was a tacit rebuke in
her very presence.

In vain did the Princess Marguerite exhort her to
patience, and represent the constitutional inconstancy
of her royal brother ; Madame de Chateaubriand was
not to be convinced ; but, humiliated by the perpetual
mortifications which she was called upon to endure at
the hands of her rival, and which her newly acquired
rank enabled her to inflict with added facility ; as well
as by the neglect of the courtiers who had once been
at her feet, and whose bearing was, as she well knew,
but a reflex of the feeling of the sovereign, she at length
determined to make a final appeal to the affection of
Francis by proposing to leave the court.

340 Reign of

It was a bitter expedient, for she was aware that it
might fail, and then, what would remain to her of all
the brilliant visions for which she had sacrificed hus-
band, and child, and home, and that fair fame which
once forfeited can never be reclaimed ? But her pres-
ent position was untenable consistently with that dig-
nity which still remained to her as a woman. The
court was made merry by daily epigrams of which she
was the subject, and whose authorship she had little
difficulty in tracing to the clique of the new favourite.
Even those whom she had served in her prosperity had
forgotten their obligations, for few things are more
inconvenient than such memories when they interfere
with present interests ; and the enemies to whom she
was indebted for her temporary elevation, were over-
joyed at her discomfiture, and made no secret of their
triumph.

The heart of Franchise de Foix was crushed within
her. She was only too well aware of the nature of
the reception which she must expect from her out-
raged husband, even should he consent once more to
accord to her the shelter of his roof ; and although her
pride bade her take the decisive step of self-exile from
that court of which she had so lately been the idol,
there were a thousand conflicting fears, and terrors, and
even hopes, which induced her to delay her purpose.
Day after day, therefore, she lingered ; but at length,
on the return of the royal circle to Chambord, op-
pressed by insult, and heartsick with disappointment,
she resolved to decide her fate.

While in the capital she had already become aware
that the King studiously avoided every opportunity of

Francis I 341

finding himself alone with her, and there it had been
easy for him to do so; but his habits in the country
were more excursive and independent, and the un-
happy woman trusted even yet that in a private inter-
view, should she succeed in obtaining it, she might
awaken in his bosom some of the old and cherished
feelings of the past.

The very name of Chambord was a spell in her
favour. Had not the King declared that it was for
her sake he desired to see his favourite retreat become
splendid beyond all the palaces of France? Had he
not assured her that the costly mirrors which lined its
saloons were intended principally to reflect her beau-
ties, and the magnificent works of art in which it
abounded to administer to her luxury ? And yet, the
walls had scarcely been raised, the skill of the painter
and the statuary had been but partially employed, and
already another lorded it where she was to have
reigned supreme.

Surely this could not last! It must be merely a
frightful dream, from which she should once more
awaken to light and joy! It could not be at Cham-
bord that her royal lover would coldly sacrifice her to
a rival ! And then the erring wife dashed away her
tears to gaze upon the costly contents of her casket,
where, pillowed upon velvet, lay the glittering gems
presented to her at different periods by the King, and
which were of almost fabulous value. She thought
not of their intrinsic worth, however, as she bent over
them with dim eyes and a throbbing heart ; to her they
were, indeed, beyond all price, but that was simply
because their enamelled setting was enriched with the

342 Reign of

device of the salamander, the crest of Francis, their
entwined initials, and sundry tender mottoes, invented
by Marguerite de Valois at the express request of the
King, for their embellishment.

How clearly and acutely did she recall the occasion
upon which each had been proffered ! He had clasped
that bracelet upon her arm, as an earnest of their
reconciliation, when after having reproached her with
her love for Bonnivet, he had followed up his remon-
strances by engraving with a diamond that he wore
upon his finger, on one of the panes of the window
near which they stood, the often quoted lines —

" Souvent femme varie,
Mai habil qui s'y fie " —

and had been rebuked by her silent tears. And it was
here, at Chambord, that the bracelet had been clasped
on ! That carcanet — that ring — each had its memory,
and it was for these that she valued them. They threw
her back upon the past — the brilliant past — and al-
though she loved a monarch, she was still weak enough
to hope even amid her fears.

Thus had she been engaged when, on a brilliant day
in summer, she saw the King traversing the parterre
in front of the palace, accompanied by Primaticcio;
and aware that the Italian would offer no impediment
to her project, but would retire as soon as she ap-
proached, she impulsively threw on her mantle; and
hurrying to the garden, took a by-path that led imme-
diately to the point towards which she at once dis-
covered that they were bent. Her anticipations were
correct, for on turning an angle Francis suddenly came

Francis I 343

upon her ere he had time to evade the meeting. As
he recognised her he started, and involuntarily re-
treated a pace or two ; but the Countess remained
rooted to the spot. Her hands were clasped tightly
together, her eyes riveted upon his face, and the words,
" Hear me, Sire — " escaped her trembling lips.

Thus addressed, Francis slightly raised his plumed
hat, and approached her; while Primaticcio discreetly
retraced his steps until he was beyond the reach of
their voices.

" Were you seeking me, Madame ? " asked the King
coldly.

" Alas ! yes, Sire ; and I have lately done so unavail-
ingly," replied the Countess with effort.

" If it be to reproach me that you are here, Coun-
tess— "

" Nay, not so ! " exclaimed Franchise de Foix.
" Not so ; who shall dare reproach the King of France ?
I am here only to crave one word, one little word of
kindness, ere I leave the court for ever."

" Leave the court, Madame ! " echoed Francis with
ill-concealed gratification. " Is not your resolution
somewhat sudden? Not, however," he added with a
chilling courtesy which fell like an ice-bolt upon the
agitated spirit of his victim, " that we would seek to
detain you near us if you have other and more pressing
duties. We are already too deeply your debtor for the
charm which you have long, very long, thrown over
our circle. Do you purpose returning to Brittany?"

Franchise de Foix pressed her hand heavily upon
her heart to still its throbbings, as she answered with
an ineffectual attempt at composure, " With the per-
mission of your Majesty."

344 Reign of

" It shall not be withheld, Madame, since such is
your desire ; and it will give us sincere pleasure to hear
of your prosperity and happiness in your retirement."
And once more the plumed hat was gracefully raised
from the royal brow ; a gesture of the hand brought the
great artist again to the side of the King, and the dis-
honoured wife was left standing alone under the bright
sky and the waving boughs, as Francis of France and
his protege resumed their walk.

And she stood there long, paralysed alike in mind
and limb. She had, indeed, in her moments of de-
spondency, apprehended that she might be permitted
to depart, but never that she should depart thus —
without one regret — without one expostulation — with-
out one word of tenderness or explanation. Alas, poor
woman ! she had not paused to reflect that princes do
not condescend to temporise when their interests are
not involved. What was she now but a pebble in the
path of the King, which, for his greater convenience,
had been removed? Sympathy! Where could she
look for sympathy? The guilty have no friends.
What a tide of thought and memory rolled over her
brain in the brief half hour that she stood there — there,
where the monarch who had lured her to her ruin, had
left her without a sigh ! what visions of the giddy height
from which she had fallen — the fatal precipice down
which she had recklessly plunged — the foul stain which
she had affixed to an honourable name, and the inex-
orable husband by whom her dishonour would be
avenged ! And then, with a frantic grasp she clutched
her mantle about her, and staggered back, drunk with
despair, to the mocking splendour of her luxurious
apartment.

Francis I 345

And one gentle look, one kindly expression, might
have softened the fiercest pang of this unutterable
anguish, and left her at least an illusion with which to
brighten the fearful future; but the boon, poor as it
was, had been denied.

Truly Francis I., the vaunted of history, and the heir
of fame, was a chivalrous monarch !

The same evening, in the circle of the Duchess-
mother, the King announced with a courtesy at once
suave and stately, that the Comtesse de Chateaubriand,
whose health had been for some time precarious, had
solicited his permission to retire from the court; a
request to which, under the circumstances, he had
reluctantly acceded. The astonishment elicited by this
intelligence was universal. The eyes of Louise de
Savoie and the Duchesse d'Etampes sought each
other, and exchanged a look of triumph ; while the
Princess Marguerite silently averted her head, and by
a powerful effort retained the tears which endeavoured
to force their way. The die was, however, cast, for
this public announcement from the lips of the King
had effectually prevented all change of purpose on the
part of the Countess ; and nothing now remained for
her save to depart, and expiate by a future of remorse
the errors of the past.

And fearfully were they indeed expiated. Varillas
and Sauval both assert that, on her return to Brittany
— for she offered herself on her retirement from the
court a passive victim to the vengeance of her hus-
band— M. de Chateaubriand imprisoned her for a time
in a vault beneath the chateau into which the light
could not penetrate ; and subsequently caused the veins

346 Reign of

of her arms and feet to be opened, by which she bled to
death. This account is, however, not universally
credited ; although it is certain that she was subjected
by her infuriated husband to the most cruel and un-
relenting treatment ; which, added to the despair that
had taken possession of her mind after her last inter-
view with the King, rendered her weary of life, and ill
able to contend against another and an unlooked-for
mortification, which gave the last blow to her bruised
and broken spirit.

Only a few weeks after the retirement of Madame
de Chateaubriand from the court, the monarch pre-
sented to the Duchesse d'Etampes a magnificent parure
of brilliants and pearls ; but even while the eyes of the
favourite glistened with delight at the costly offering,
a shade gathered upon her brow which was instantly
perceived by Francis, who anxiously inquired its
cause.

" I admit the beauty of the jewels," said Anne de
Pisseleu, as she threw her white arms about the neck
of the enamoured King; "but to me they are mere
stones, to be bought with gold, and lost without re-
gret : baubles, which all who are wealthy can command
alike. They boast nothing distinctive. They tell
nothing either of Francis of France, or of her to whom
his smiles are all in all. How different were the gems
which I have seen upon the neck and arms of the
Comtesse de Chateaubriand! There every separate
ornament breathed of tenderness and devotion. Every
trinket was its own history. There was a world of
love upon every link and clasp of those enamelled
ornaments ; and you give me merely gold and stones,

Francis I 347

and would have me prize them as she valued the heart-
record which rendered hers at once a memorial and a
marvel."

And Anne de Pisseleu wept; and the King wiped
away the tears which dimmed her bright eyes ; and at
length, in a moment of weakness which betrayed him
into forgetfulness of his dignity, not only as a mon-
arch but even as a man, he consented to write with his
own hand to the abandoned Countess, and to reclaim
the gifts which had been freely offered.

Madame d'Etampes again triumphed. In her cold
and selfish heart there was no place for the sentiment
which she affected. She sought only further to hu-
miliate an already vanquished rival ; and her eyes once
more sparkled as she placed before her infatuated lover
the costly writing-stand of pearl and ebony which occu-
pied a recess in her apartment. She would brook no
delay in this new caprice, and the unworthy letter was
completed in her presence ; the restoration of the jew-
els was demanded; and all that Francis could do to
mitigate the enormity of the meanness which he was
thus induced to commit, was to assert that a portion
of them were the property of the crown, and conse-
quently unalienable.

Who shall venture to say with what melancholy
rapture the unhappy Countess had hung over those
cherished symbols of the irrevocable past in her gloomy
captivity, unvisited as it was by one word or look of
kindness? Who shall venture to imagine the pang
with which she received from the hand of her im-
perious and disdainful husband this last missive from
her royal seducer. The result is, however, matter of

348 Reign of

history. In a few days the Countess delivered to the
messenger of the King a casket of sandal-wood
curiously inlaid, which she instructed him to convey
with all speed to his master ; her command was obeyed,
and the casket was placed in the hands of Francis, who
at once transferred it, unopened, to those of Madame
d'Etampes.

The exulting favourite raised the lid with a proud
smile and an eager hand ; but her triumph was short-
lived. The jewel-case was, indeed, full to overflow-
ing ; gold and gems were alike there, even to the veriest
trifle which Madame de Chateaubriand had owed to
the whilom liberality of the sovereign, but not an orna-
ment remained intact. The ruin was complete. The
precious stones had been wrenched from their settings,
and the richly laboured ore was broken into a thousand
fragments. Above them lay a letter addressed to the
King. It was the last cry of a broken heart !

" Sire," ran the missive, whose contents were ren-
dered nearly illegible by the excessive agitation of the
writer, " since it has pleased your Majesty to reclaim
the gifts which I owed to your generosity, I restore
them to you. Not a jewel or a grain of gold will be
found wanting. The devices alone are absent; and
they are so deeply impressed upon my mind, and so
inexpressibly dear to my heart, that I have effaced
them, as I could not brook that they should ever
minister to the happiness of another."

That Francis, egotist as he was, felt the tacit rebuke
conveyed in these temperate and uncomplaining words
is certain, for the casket, with its mutilated contents,
was once more restored to its rightful owner.

Francis I 349

It is probable that Madame d'Alencon might still
have made an effort to restore her friend to court, had
she not been at this period too much engrossed by her
own sorrows to find leisure for sympathy in those of
others. On the 24th of January of the same year
(1527,) she had, at the command of her brother, be-
stowed her hand upon Henri d'Albret II., the elder
son of Jean, King of Navarre, and of Catherine de
Foix, from whom Ferdinand of Aragon had wrested a
portion of their states during the reign of Louis XII.
The marriage took place at St. Germain-en-Laye ; and
in the contract Francis bound himself to summon the
Emperor to restore the usurped territories and upon
his refusal to do so, even engaged to regain them by
force of arms ; while he moreover assigned to the bride,
as her dowry, the duchies of Alenqon and Berri, the
counties of Armagnac and Perche, and all the several
lordships which she possessed, either in right of her
first husband, or as her own personal appanage.

But once more the soul of Marguerite de Valois
sickened at the tie by which she was bound ; and sighed
over the untimely fate of Charles de Bourbon, whose
wife she had so lately hoped that she might yet be-
come. The character of the young King of Navarre
was ill suited to her own ; with considerable personal
bravery, and good intentions, he was weak, moody,
irritable, and jealous. Like the Due d'Alengon, he
was unable to appreciate the shining qualities and
high-heartedness of his bride; while the Princess,
worn out by mortification and disappointment, was
less inclined than formerly either to conceal her feel-
ings, or to put any constraint upon her tastes. Thus

35° Reign of

perpetual dissensions arose between them, which be-
came subjects of court scandal, and more than once
exacted the interference of Francis himself. In one
pursuit alone the King and Queen of Navarre ex-
hibited the same interest, and that one was in amelio-
rating the condition of their subjects; an attempt in
which they were so successful that Marguerite soon
became the idol of the people.

Two children were the issue of this ill-assorted union.
Jean, the elder, died in 1530, at two years of age; and
the second, born in 1529, was the illustrious and un-
happy Jeanne d'Albret, the mother of Henry IV.

After having invited to Beam the most able agri-
culturists of France, and taught their peasantry the
true value of the soil upon which they laboured, the
two young sovereigns founded cities, and embellished
the royal residences, especially the castle of Pau, which
they moreover surrounded with magnificent gardens ;
and although Henri d'Albret never ultimately at-
tempted to reconquer Navarre, owing to the impossi-
bility of procuring from his royal brother-in-law the
promised assistance, he took such wise precautions as
enabled him to preserve the remainder of his kingdom
from the encroachments of the Emperor.

The court was held alternately at Pau and at Nerac,
and rivalled that of France in wit and beauty, if not
in splendour. The immediate circle of Marguerite
herself was composed of the most lovely and the most
intellectual women of the age, and of the handsomest
and most gifted men. In her saloons were to be seen
all the aristocracy of talent, all the nobility of intellect.
Scholars, poets, musicians, and painters, were her cour-

Francis I 351

tiers ; and graciously and royally did she repay their
homage. Her valets-de-chambre were Clement Ma-
rot, Bonaventure des Periers,* Claude Gruget, An-
toine du Moulin, and Jean de la Haye ; a galaxy in
themselves, who won for her saloon the designation
of the real Parnassus; and well did it deserve its name ;
for there every muse had its niche, and every altar its
votary.

But while both art and literature were fostered and
encouraged at the court of Beam, they were not suf-
fered to absorb all the energies of its inhabitants. The
Queen, whose inquiring spirit ever sought to penetrate
into the new and the unknown, had been, as we have
already shown, strongly attracted by the religion of

* Bonaventure des Periers was one of the first satirists of the age, and
the author of several works of celebrity. He translated the comedies
of Terence into French verse, and the dialogues of Plato in prose; but
of the former he published only the Andria. These were succeeded by
the Treaty on the Four Cardinal Virtues of Seneca, which he brought out
anonymously, as well as the Cymbalum Mundi, to which he feared to
affix his name; and which induced the arrest of his printer, Jean Morin,
in whose house the whole edition of his works was seized in 1538. He
had previously (in the year 1535) been appointed secretary and valet-de-
chambre to Marguerite de Valois, through whose protection he was
enabled to escape with a simple reprimand, although he was compelled
to retire to Lyons; where, instead of evincing any repentance for his
imprudence, he caused a new edition of the work to be printed. Both
are now extremely rare. His appointment to the household of the
Queen of Navarre was occasioned by the annoyance to which she was
publicly subjected from the slanders which had coupled her name dis-
honourably with that of Clement Marot, whom he succeeded. His end
was tragical. Compelled to quit the service of his royal mistress, for
whom he did not attempt to conceal his passion, he became so depressed
and desperate, that it was found necessary to watch him closely, in order
to prevent his committing suicide. The inadvertence of a moment, how-
ever, sufficed to render all previous precaution unavailing; for, having
secured an opportunity, he was found pierced by his own sword; and
that so frightfully, that the point of the weapon, which had entered his
chest, had forced its way through his spine. In 1544, a collection of his
works was edited and published by his friend Antoine du Moulin, who
then occupied his position in the court of Marguerite.

352 Reign of

the Reformers ; and among the philosophers whom
she had drawn into her circle were many whose minds
had been similarly influenced. To the arguments of
these deep and earnest thinkers she accordingly lent a
greedy ear, and she soon learnt to sympathize alike in
their views, and in their hopes ; while her enthusiasm
was further excited by the pious eloquence of Roussel,
Calvin, and Le Fever d'Etaples, who, while preaching
the new doctrine, were themselves so thoroughly
imbued by its truth as to carry conviction to their
hearers.

Nor was the Queen merely a passive convert to the
Reformed faith. She caused the Latin prayers of the
Church to be translated into French, and even had
the courage to place the missal in the hands of Francis
himself, and to distribute it among the courtiers, by
whom its use was adopted until condemned by the
Sorbonne as heretical, and prohibited by a decree of
Parliament. She, moreover, composed a mystical
poem, entitled " The Mirror of the Sinful Soul ; " but
this also fell under the ban of the Sorbonne, and was
only saved from annihilation by the express command
of the King; while the rage of the students was ex-
cited to so unmeasured a degree by its appearance,
that at the college of Navarre a mystery was enacted,
in which the Princess was represented under the char-
acter of a Fury of Hell; an exhibition of audacity which
Francis resented by sending his archer-guard to arrest
the culprits. Popular excitement had, however,
reached its height, and the royal troops were driven
back with violence and insult; nor was it until Mar-
guerite herself became their advocate that the origi-
nators of the insult obtained their pardon.

Francis I 353

So long as she had remained in France the Princess
had been compelled to act with a certain caution. She
was aware that she had rendered herself unpopular by
her leaning towards reform ; and she feared the effect
of her opinions upon the popularity of her brother ;
but she was no sooner established in her new kingdom
than she ceased to dissemble. She had, however, still
much to contend against. Montmorenci had, on one
occasion, when Francis was complaining of the dis-
affection of the Parisians, been bold enough to declare,
that if his Majesty really desired to restore peace to
his capital by the extermination of the heretics, he
would do well to commence with his courtiers, and
with some who were even more nearly allied to him,
particularly the Queen of Navarre, his sister; but the
indignant reply of the King convinced him that, upon
this occasion, he had outrun his discretion ; and the
effect produced upon the mind of Marguerite herself,
when the conversation was repeated to her, was
destined never to be effaced.

Even in her own little court at Beam, moreover,
she was fated to endure perpetual trial and disappoint-
ment. The pious and venerable d'Etaples expired
almost in her presence at the age of 101 years, re-
proaching himself for not having remained in France,
where he might have secured the crown of a martyr ;
while Calvin, Marot, and other Reformers, who began
to apprehend that from the increased feeling of hos-
tility evinced towards their protectress, they were no
longer in safety even at Pau, where Henri d'Albret
had begun to exhibit symptoms of distaste both to
their doctrines and their presence, prepared to pass
into Piedmont.

Vol. II. — 23

354 Reign of

Nor were they premature in their resolution, for
Marot, whose vanity was more powerful than his re-
ligion, had so undisguisedly boasted of his favour with
the Queen, that the suspicious nature of Henri was
aroused, and he reproached his wife with her levity of
conduct in such unmeasured and insulting terms, that
she was compelled to appeal to the authority and sup-
port of her brother; nor was it until he had so far
forgotten his manhood and the dignity of his station
as to lift his hand against her, that even Francis him-
self succeeded in protecting her from his violence.

Unstable as water, Henri of Navarre no sooner
found himself powerless than he began to feel, or to
affect, an interest in the opinions of his wife ; and ere
long she induced him to participate in her religious
exercises ; to read the Gospels, to assist in the Psalms,
to listen to the sermons of the Reformed preachers,
and even to receive the Sacrament, which was ad-
ministered in a vault of the castle ; but the conversion
of the supple King was merely superficial, although
it was so far serviceable to his more earnest helpmate
that it enabled her to pursue her spiritual career with-
out impediment ; and, accordingly, she multiplied her
pious writings; and the same hand which produced
the Heptameron was employed on hymns, and pious
poems, and biblical dramas, which she caused to be
represented by the professional actors at her court.

This imprudence, however, drew upon her the ani-
mosity of the Cardinals of Armagnac and Grammont,
who expostulated warmly with Francis upon the in-
dignity which she had thus offered to the Church of
Rome ; and their remonstrances were so powerful that

Francis I 355

the King found himself compelled to summon her to
his presence, in order that she might justify her con-
duct. Marguerite obeyed upon the instant, and, at-
tended by the Governor of Guinne, proceeded to Paris,
where she was coldly and even sternly received by her
brother ; but she was too well aware of her influence
to lose her courage, and she replied to his reproaches,
say her historians, with such admirable tact and self-
possession, that he declared himself convinced of her
innocence of all bias towards Lutheranism, and re-
fused to listen to the arguments of her accusers.
Warned, nevertheless, by her peril, she from that
moment avoided all public demonstration of her seces-
sion from the Romish Church, and contented herself
by less ostentatious proofs of her conversion. She
still maintained an uninterrupted correspondence with
Calvin, and assisted Marot in his translation of the
Psalms ; but she observed the Romish ceremony of
confession, attended mass, endowed hospitals, founded
an asylum for orphans, and gave largely to the poor,
under the auspices of the priests.

The position of Marguerite was a false one, alike in
seeming and in spirit.

Index

Adrian VI., Pope, ii. no, 126
Agnadello, i. 59 •
Agrippa, Cornelius, ii. 318
Alamanni, Luigi, iii. 27
Alargon, M. d\ ii. 235, 256, 277
Alba, Duke of (see Alva)
Alcyat, Bussy d\ i. 98; ii. 224, 231
Aleandro, Jeromio, i. 300
Alencon, Due d', i. 37, 160, 181;

ii. 156, 220, 223, 241, 242
Alengon, Duchesse d' (see Mar-
guerite de France)
Allegre, Yves d', i. 49; ii. 189
Alps, i. 162

Alva, Duke of, i. 79; ii. 254
Amboise, Bussy d', i. 98; ii. 224,

231
Amboise, Card. d\ i. 39, 44, 49, 66
Amboise, Clement d', ii. 221
Angouleme, Marguerite d', char-
acter, and Francis' love for, i.
25. 361 37 (see further, Margue-
rite de France)
Anne de Bretagne, youthful at-
tachment of Louis XII. to, i. 4;
fancy of Charles VIII. for, i. 7;
ultimately married to, i. n; grief
at Charles' death, i. n; new
King Louis again renews suit
and wins, i. 12; married, i. 14;
childless, jealous of succession
of Francis, i. 14; dUHke of

mother, i. 16; establishes house-
hold of ladies, i. 19; character,
i. 22; against de Gie, i. 34; urges
Louis to placate new Pope Leo
X., i. 86; dies, i. no
Anne de France, and Louis XII.,
i. 8; after rejection of affection,
implacable enemy, i. 8
Armagnac, Marie d', i. 37
Augsburg, confession of, iii. 53
Austria, Charles of (see Charles
V.)

B

Bacon, Lord, i. 160, 227
Barbarossa, iii. 98, 263, 277, 279
Bayard, i. 52, 58, 62, 67, 69, 94-98,
100, 160, 164, 167, 172, 178, 181, 184,
185; ii. 56, 58, 69, 92, 177, 183, 192
Baylwin, Jean Paul, i. 48
Bayonne, Bishop of (see Bellay)
Beaujeau, Mme. de, i. 10
Beaurain, Comte de, ii. 105, 106, 256
Bedier, Noel, ii. 319
Bentivoglio, i. 48
Bergamo, i. 59
Berguin, Louis de, iii. 34
Berri, Duchesse de, i. 134
Bier, Sieur de, ii. 134
Blois, i. 41

Bohemia, King of, i. 46
Boissy, Artus de Gouffier, i. 15,

136; ii. 1, 11
Boleyn, Anne, i. n8; iii. 52, 95

357

358

Index

Boleyn, Sir Thomas, i. 275, 304;

ii. 13
Bologna, i. 48
Bonneval, i. 94
Bonnivet, Seigneur de, i. 22, 38,

94. 1361 'S3. »59. 242, 268, 270, 283;

ii. 7, 84, 106, 121, 130, 135, 152, 173,

218, 222
Bontemps, Pierre de, ii. 314
Bourbon, Connetable de, i. 21, 25,

27, 134. 152, 1761 237; »• 23, 24,

66, 81, 104, 105, 114, 122, 136, 149,

168, 190, 227, 229, 233, 255, 259,

264, 271, 303, 306
Bourbon, Susanne de, i. 21, 138;

ii. 87, 103
Bourg, Antoine du, iii. 107, 181
Boyer, Bp., i. 300
Brancas, Mme. de, ii. 297
Brandenbourg, Marquis of, ii. 6
Brandon, Charles (see Suffolk)
Brantome, i. 38, 140, 241, 261; iii.

37, 86
Bricot, Thomas, i. 42
Brion, Sieur de, i. 136; ii. 134, 219,

269; iii. 129
Brittany, Duchy of, i. 10, 34, 126;

ii. 327; iii. 46-49
Budee, Guillaume, i. 149, 251
Burie, M. de, iii. 157

Caesar Borgia, Pope, dissolves
Louis XII. 's marriage to Jeanne
de France, i. 13

Calvin, iii. 99

Calvinmont, M. de, iii. 5

Canterbury, ii. 18

Cardona, Raymond de, i. 68, 168

Castiglione, Balthasar, iii. 8, 68

Cellini, Benvenuto, iii. 233

Chabannes, Jacques de, i. 22

Chabannes, Jean de, i. 21

Chabot, Brian, ii. 156

Chabot, Philip, i. 136

Chalons, Phillibert de (Orange),
ii. 306

Chambord, ii. 313

Charles V., i. 37, 141, 288; ii. 6, 17,
38, 91, 127, 170, 237, 252, 261, 265,
273, 276, 328; iii. 4, 7, 12, 37, 58,
96, 119-34, 144, 'Si. 167, 187, I9<5,
204-15, 242, 266, 272, 283, 300-306

Charles VIII., secluded by father,
i. 6; his betrothal to Margue-
rite of Austria, i. 6; fancy for
Anne de Bretagne, i. 7; dis-
misses Marguerite of Austria to
Flanders, i. 9; hurt head against
door, death-blow, i. 11; died at
twenty-eight, i. 12

Charles, Prince, ii. 144; iii. 108, 120

Charlotte, Princess, i. 278

Chateaubriand, Comte de, i. 214,
218, 225; ii. 248

Chateaubriand, Comtesse de (see
Francoise de Foix)

Chat ill on, M. de, i. 276; ii. 66

Chaumont, M. de, i. 49, 58

Cheyne, Sir Thomas, ii. 129

Chievres, M. de, i. 141, 204, 206,
208, 288; ii. 2, 14

Chinon, i. 14

Claude de France, i. 39, 44, m,
139, 140; ii. 21, 31, 122, 136, 202

Clement VII., Pope, ii. 47, 89, 205,
253, 266, 301, 307, 321-28; iii. 39,
Si, 56, 63, 74, 82, 95, 96

Clermont d'Anjou, i. 98; ii. 233

Cloth of Gold, Field of, ii. 24

Colonna, Antonio, i. 210

Colonna, Fabrizio, i. 68, 70

Colonna, Mutio, i. 174

Colonna, Pompero, Card., ii. 301

Colonna, Prosper, i. 163; ii. 69, 76,
92, 135, 235

Commines, Sire de, i. 10

Concordat, i. 249

Cop, Guillaume, i. 251

Cordova, Gonsalvo di, i. 54

Cousin, ii. 3, 315

Crequi, Antonio de (see Pont-
dormy)

Croi, Adrien de (see Beaurain)

Croy, G. de, i. 44

Index

359

E

D'Aerschott, Due, ii. 133
D'Albert, Jean, i. 78, 79
D'Alviano, i. 58, 87, 181
D'Andelot, ii. 225
Danes, Pierre, i. 251
D'Annebaut, iii. 310
D'Ars, Sieur Louis, i. 70
D'Aubigny, i. 58, 145; ii. 128, 210
Dauphin, as hostage, ii. 284; freed,

iii. 19, 48, 136
D'Auton, Bp., ii. 153
D'Avalos, Alphonso, ii. 217, 268;

iii. 173, 178, 236, 237, 240, 249,

290-98
D'Avalos, Ferdinand (see Pescara)
Da Vinci, Leonardo, i. 250; ii. 2
De Bieze, Louis, ii. 135, 159, 248
De Ceri, Lorenzo, ii. 199
Declaration of war, csremony of,

iii. 3
De Daillon, Jacques, ii. 123
D'Emery, Sieur, ii. 43
D'Este, Alphonso, i. 71
D'Etampes, Duchesse (see Anne

de Pissleu)
De Fiennes, Marquis, ii. 133
D'Herbouville, Mdlle., ii. 175
De Lorges, ii. 184; iii. 332
De Lude, Comte, ii. 123, 125
De Velley, Sieur de, iii. 119-21
Diana of Poitiers, ii. 137, 166, 247,

315; iii. 87, 163, 356
Diesbach, Jean de, i. 170
Doria, Andrea, ii. 244, 258; iii. 135,

143. 244
Dorset, Marquis of, i. 78; ii. 24
D'Orval, Seigneur Albret, i. 283
Du Bellay, Jean, iii. 3, 29, 78, 99
Du Chatel, Pierre, i. 251
Dunois, Comte de, i. 8
Duprat, Antoine, i. 136, 156, 260;

ii. 11, 23, S3, 103, 121, 291, 302,

308, 310; iii. 18, 29, 36, 47, 107
D'Urbino, Due, ii. 301, 305; iii. 120
D'Usez, Duchesse, ii. 312

Eleanora of Austria, i. 112; ii. 106,
2S3t 272, 282; iii. 17, 19-25, 83, 90,
201-203

Ely, Bp. of, i. 275

England, Mary and Elizabeth of,
declined marriage to Charles
VIIL, i. 6 (see Henry VIII. and
Wolsey)

Erasmus, i. 253; iii. 32

Fabri, Jacques, ii. 247

Faenza, i. 48

Farel, Guillaume, ii. 247

Ferdinand the Catholic, i. 41, 141

Ferdinand, King of Rome, iii. 52,

73
Feronniere, la belle, iii. 192
Ferrara, Duke of, i. 61; iii. 39
Fleuranges, Seigneur de, i. 92,
174, 186, 283, 285, 290, 294; ii. 20,
3°, 45. 133; iii- 157, 181
Foix, Adet de, i. 72
Foix, Catherine de, i. 78
Foix, Francois de (Chateaubri-
and), i. 213, 217; ii. 73, 114, 121,
144, 247, 285, 291, 315
Foix, Gaston de, i. 58, 66, ^
Foix, Germaine de, i. 21, 41, 54, 291
Foix, Jean de, i. 41
Foix, Lescun de, i. 266; ii. 49, 79,

99, 224, 231
Foix, Lespaire de, ii. 12
Folle, Jeanne la, i. 45
Fontarabia, siege of, ii. 124
Fontrailles, Sieur de, i. 94, 96
Francis I., succession of, i. 1;
birthplace, i. 14; early life, i. 14;
betrothed to Claude, i. 44; com-
mands Louis XII. 's army to as-
sist King of Navarre, i. 80; in-
trigue with advocate's wife, i.
84; commands Louis XII. 's
army against Henry VII. and

360

Index

Emperor, i. 104; relations with
Queen Mary, i. 122; succeeds to
crown, i. 126; enters Paris, i. 131;
arbitrarily ideal, i. 133; bravely
killed wild boar, i. 139; would
not give up design upon Milan,
i. 143; prepares to march against
Swiss, i. 147; organizes army, i.
152; mother Regent, i. 157;
crosses Alps, i. 162; at Marig-
nano battle, gallantly attacks
Swiss, i. 177; knighthood from
Bayard, i. 183; sees Leo X., i.
191 ; refuses title of Emperor of
the East, i. 196; domestic life, i.
2ii ; birth of Dauphin, i. 226;
quarrels with Parliament of
Paris, i. 246; wishes friendship of
Henry VIII., i. 277; desires Em-
perorship, i. 286; defeated, ii. 7;
again wishes English friendship,
ii. 13; Field of Cloth of Gold, ii.
28; war with Charles V., ii. 85;
Milan expedition, ii. 91; sus-
pects Bourbon, ii. 139; proceeds
against him, ii. 173; loses Bay-
ard, ii. 192; loses Claude, ii. 202;
marches personally against Mi-
lan, ii. 20s; taken prisoner at
Pavia, ii. 226; Regent's treaty
with England, ii. 252; Charles
V.'s terms, ii. 256; his answer,
ii. 257; fever, ii. 262; taken to
Madrid, attempts escape, ii. 277;
signs treaty with Emperor, ii.
281; betrothed to Queen Eleo-
nora, ii. 283; freed, ii. 284; Holy
League, ii. 288; combines with
Henry VIII. and sends army to
Milan, ii. 328; war against
Charles V., iii. 4; Charles V.
challenges to duel, obviated by
Francis, iii. n; negotiates with
Charles V., iii. 19; Dauphin
freed, iii. 19; married to Eleo-
nora, iii. 19; wishes to establish
a Royal College, Duprat dis-
suades, iii. 26; measures against

Lutherans, iii. 35; loses mother,
i"- 43; gains wealth, iii. 44;
wishes to annex Brittany, iii.
45; Bretons resist, iii. 46; Dau-
phin made Duke of Brittany,
iii. 48; again meets Henry
VIII., iii. 55; sham agreement
to fight Turks, iii. 59; plan
against Pope, iii. 61 ; Pope
wishes to meet, iii. 64; agent
murdered in Italy, iii. 72; meets
Clement VII., iii. 76; who mar-
ries Due d'Orleans to Catherine
de' Medici, iii. 81; description of
female court of Francis, iii. 83-
94; again war against Charles
V., iii. 97; abolishes printing
throughout kingdom, iii. 103;
repudiates treaty of Madrid, iii.
126; Saluzzo goes over to Em-
peror, iii. 133; loses Dauphin, iii.
137; defeats Charles V., iii. 151;
cites him to appear as vassal be-
fore French tribunals, iii. 166;
marches on Milan in person, iii.
174; truce, iii. 178; Charles V.
wants permanent peace because
of fear of Turks, iii. 179; la belle
Feronniere, iii. 190; Charles
V. asks safe-conduct through
France, and is granted it, iii. 195;
great banquet, iii. 207; Charle9
V.'s falseness sours Francis, iii.
214; dismisses Montmorenci, iii.
218; resolves to declare war
against Charles, iii. 255; Ro-
chelle revolts against salt tax,
iii. 256; Francis addresses them
in memorable speech, iii. 258;
persecutes Lutherans, iii. 260;
war with Charles drags on, iii.
266; joins forces with Turks,
iii. 276; unsuccessful, iii. 281;
Charles V. and Henry VIII. in-
vade France, iii. 298; they march
on Paris, iii. 313; peace, iii. 314;
is vexed by son Henry's disre-

Index

361

spect, iii. 331 ; peace with Henry
VIII., iii. 344; atrociously per-
secutes Reformers, iii. 348; af-
fected by Henry VIII. 's death,
fell into lethargy, and died not
so loved as Louis XII., iii. 354

Franget, Captain, ii. 125

Frederick of Saxony, ii. 5

Frundsberg, ii. 305

Furstemberg, Count William de,
ii. 125; iii. 105, 311

Gaillart, Louis, i. 269

Gattinara, Mercurio, ii. 262

Genoa, i. so, 148

Genouilhac, ii. 215

German Electors, i. 280

German Emperorship, i. 287; ii.

1, S
Ghibberti, Matteo, ii. 208
Gouiffier, G., i. 22
Grandvelle, Perenot de, iii. 6, 309
Grignaud, M. de, i. 122
Gritti, Andreo, ii. 99
Guasto, Marquis de (see D'Avalos,

Alphonso)
Gueldres, Due de (see Robert de

la Mark)
Guise, Claude de, i. 160; ii. 171,

24S; iii- 55
Guistiniani, Demetrius, i. 53
Guojon, Jean, ii. 314

H

Hallwin, Louis de, i. 94

Haye, M. de la, i. 244

Heilly, Mdlle. de (see Anne de
Pisseleu)

Henry VII. of England, i. 36

Henry VIII. of England, i. 66, 93,
95, 101, 109, 113, 131, 144, 197, 253,
254, 268, 283, 285, 304; ii. 8, 17, 23,
29, 32, 91, 106, 127, 251, 286, 307,
322; iii. 2, 55, 70, 95, 159, 266, 299,
306, 313, 341, 344, 345, 352

Henry, Prince, iii. 114, 144
Hesse, Landgrave of, i. 295
Holy League, i. 66; ii. 288

I

Imbercourt, Marquis d\ i. 94, 159,

160, 182
Isabella of Spain, death of, i. 41
Iscalin, Paulin, iii. 262, 274

J

James IV. (Scots), i. 109

James V. (Scots), iii. 158

Jamets, Seigneur de, i. 92, 147, 294

Janet, ii. 3

Jeanne de France, i. 4; faithfully
succors her husband Louis
XII., i. 9; divorced, for him to
marry Anne de Bretagne, i. 13;
retires to Bourges, i. 13; died
1504, blessed by the poor, i. 14

Jerusalem, Knights of, ii. 112

Julius II., Pope, i. 47, 48, 56, 87;
dies, i. 88

K

Katharine of Aragon, ii. 31, 325;
iii- 4. 5i. 95. 96

La Crote, i. 58

Lodeve, Comte Clermont de, ii.

278
La Fayette, i. 94, 98; ii. 258
La Motte, des Moyers de, ii. 227
La Rochelle, iii. 258
Launoy, Charles de, ii. 175, 227,

2«9, 288
Lautrec, Sieur de, i. 73, 136, 161,

170, 235. 239. 262; ii. 75, 103, 153,

284, 328; iii. 13
Lenoncourt, Robert de, i. 127
Leo X., Pope, i. 68, 88, 89, 148,

190, 255, 282, 300; ii. 10, 45, 53, 80

362

Index

Leyva, Antonio de, ii. 206, 224, 266,
290; iii. 65, 72, 134

Limoges, ii. 3

L'Isle Adam, Villiers de, ii. 42

Livry, Hermit of, ii. 246

Loches, i. 14; ii. 152

Longueville, Due de, i. 58, 79, 98,
114, 117; ii. 101

Lorraine, Card, de, iii. 90, 128, 129,
179, 233

Lorraine, Due de, i. 138, 178, 228,
29s; »• 197. 231

Louis XL, i. 6

Louis XII., death of, i. 1; char-
acter, i. 2; harsh imprisonment
at St. Aubin, i. 8; revenge of
Anne de France, i. 8; marries
Anne de Bretagne, i. 19; great
deference to Anne de Bretagne,
i. 22; illness, i. 30; war with Holy
League, i. 66; assists King of
Navarre, i. 79; allies with Venice,
i. 86; wishes peace with new
Pope Leo X., i. 88; repelled,
again marches army into Italy,
i. 89; fleet captures Genoa, i. 90;
friendship with English, i. 94;
dislikes treaty with Swiss, i.
108; makes treaty of Orleans, i.
109; loses Anne de Bretagne, i.
no; betrothal to Mary of Eng-
land, i. no; married by proxy,
i. 117; and at Abbeville, i. 119;
dies, i. 125

Louise de Savoie, i. 15, 133, 157,
158, 223, 233, 240, 277, 291, 296,
299; ii. 9. 36. 43. 67, 70, 82, 103,
118, 129, 201, 205, 239, 242, 252,
254. 283, 292, 309, 318; iii. 16, 41,
42, 43

Louise, Princess, i. 140, 207,
278

Loyola, Ignatius, ii. 49

Ludovic the Moor, i. 76

Luther, Martin, i. 256; ii. 45; iii.
347

Lutherans, iii. 261

Luxembourg, Charles de, i. 40

M

Mantua, Marquis of, i. 61; ii. 155,

175
Maraviglia, iii. 66-69
Marguerite of Austria, i. 5, 9, 112;

iii. 16, 44
Marguerite de France (Valois), i.

'34. IS3; »• 146, 152. 241, 246, 257,

259, 266, 268, 269, 273-82, 285, 298,

325, 326; iii. 84
Marguerite, Princess, iii. 161
Marignano, battle of, i. 184
Mark, Robert de la (Gueldres), i.

58, 91, 160, 170, 294, 301, 303; ii.

43. 45. 51. 282
Marot, Clement, ii. 10, 165, 246;

iii. 32
Mary of England, i. 1, 114, 122, 130
Mary, Princess, ii. 34, 54, 91, 251;

iii. 2
Mary, Queen of Scots, iii. 267
Maximilian of Austria, i. 5, 60, 95,

188, 280, 281, 284
Mayence, Arbp. of, ii. 3
Medicis, Alessandro de', iii. 107
Medicis, Card, de', ii. 88
Medicis, Catherine de', iii. 108, 353,

254. 356
Medicis, Giulio de', i. 76
Medicis, Lorenzo de', i. 150, 168,

2301 277
Mezieres, Baron de, i. 107
Milan, Duchy of, i. 141
Molert, Seigneur de, i. 58
Moncada, Ugo de, i. 305; ii. 290,

301
Montecuculli, Count Sebastian de,

iii. 137
Montejan, M. de, iii. 135, 179
Montmoreau, Seigneur de, ii. 56,

60
Montmorency, Anne de, i. 137; ii.

56, 135, 217, 242, 258; iii. 11, 18,

56, 90, 143, 167, 181, 193, 197, 213,

215, 219, 225, 330, 357
Montpensier, Charles de (see

Bourbon, Connetable de)

Index

363

Montpezat, M. de (see Prez)
More, Sir Thomas, ii. 323
Moreto, Comte de, i. 161, 165
Morone, Jeromio, ii. 265, 266, 267
Mottino, i. 92

N

Naples, i. 41

Nassau, Comte Henry de, i. 142;
ii- 55

Navarre, King of, ii. 47, 232

Navarre, Queen of (see Margue-
rite de France)

Navarro, Pietro de, i. 69, 149, 159,
161; ii. 92, 100, 303; iii. 14

Nemours, Due de (see Gaston de
Foix)

Neuville, Nicholas de, ii. 9

Norfolk, Duke of, ii. 23, 171; iii.
55, 299

Novara, battle of, i. 93

Novi, Paul de, i. 51

Noyon, Peace of, i. 308

Odet, Captain, i. 58
Orleans, Due d', iii. 120, 342
Orleans, Treaty of, i. 109
Osma, Bp. of, ii. 253

Paix des Dames, iii. 17
Palassis, Bernard, iii. 50
Palice, Marquis de la, i. 58, 77, 80,

94, 97. 9&> 136, 159; ii- 66, 124, 220
Pallavicini, Cristiforo, ii. 74
Paluda, Marquis de, i. 71
Pampeluna, siege of, i. 80; ii. 49
Paris, disorderly, ii. 317, 321
Parliament of Paris, i. 244, 246; ii.

158, 245, 308, 309
Paul III., Pope, iii. 96, 128, 182
Pavanes, Jacques, ii. 246
Pavia, battle of, ii. 221
Pechy, Sir John, i. 275
Perousa, i. 48
Pescara, Marquis de, i. 68; ii. 76,

78, 99, 184, 190, 225, 229, 230, 234,

255i 264, 265, 267
Philibert II. of Savoy, iii. 16
Philip, Archduke, i. 45
Pierre, Albert de la, i. 170
Pisseleu, Anne de (Heilly), ii. 292,

297, 3">. 315; iii- 21, 22, 84, 108,

118, 210-12, 226, 232, 304, 357
Pitigliano, Count of, i. 58, 61, 182
Poland, King of, i. 291
Pole, Richard de la, i. 115; ii. 135,

197
Policastro, Comte de, i. 167
Pomperant, M. de, ii. 67, 140, 148,

227, 234
Poncher, Etienne, i. 251; ii. 308
Poncher, Francois, ii. 308
Pontbriant, i. 31,. 34
Pontdormy, M. de, i. 94; ii. 96
Poyet, G., iii. 181, 208, 217, 221, 222
Prez, Antoine de, ii. 236; iii. 61, 247
Prie, Aymar de, i. 94, 168; ii. 155
Primaticcio, Francisco, ii. 313; iii.

27
Puy, Bp. of, ii. 156

R

Radelais, F., iii. 31

Ramossot, Captain, i. 69

Ravenna, battle of, i. 71

Ravenstein, Sieur de, i. 206

Reformists, iii. 103

Renee de France, i. 63, 127, 141;

ii. 87, 123, 327
Richemont, i. 58
Rimini, i. 48
Rochefort, Gui de, i. 43
Rohan, Pierre de (St. Gi6), i. 17,

19, 31, 32, 33
Rome, fall of, ii. 307
Rosso del Rosso, iii. 27
Rousillon, Comte de, i. 60
Rovera, Francesco, i. 60

St. Angelo, Marquis de, ii. 225
St. Gie (Rohan), i. 17, 19, 31, 32, 33

364

Index

St. John, Lord, i. 275

St. Pol, Comte de, i. 135; ii. 39.

232; iii. is, SS. 286, 288
St. Severino, Comte de, ii. 223
St. Vallier, Comte de, i. 154; "•

137. 148, 157
Saluzzo, Marquis de, i. 163; ii. 214,

302; iii. 14, 133, 173
Sanga, G., ii. 302
Savoy, Bastard of, i. 155, 170, 210,

244; ii. 231
Scheiner, Matthew (Sion), i. 64,

76, 146, 171, 173. 186; ii. 77
Scotland, ii. 36, 251
Seckingen, F. de, i. 294, 296, 298,

302; ii. 7, 60, 62
Sedan, Sieur de, i. 149
Semblancay, Baron de, ii. 71, 117,

203, 247, 285, 311
Sforza, F., ii. 46, 92, 266, 288; iii.

38-40, 106
Sforza, Lorenzo, iii. 65
Sforza, Ludovico, i. 262
Shrewsbury, Earl of, i. 93; ii. 23
Sion, Card, of (see Schreiner)
Sismondi, ii. 230; iii. 100, 349
Soliman, Sultan, ii. 112; iii. 98, 178,

241-43, 262, 274
Sorbonne, ii. 319
Soyen, M. de, 246
Spain (see Charles V.)
States-General, i. 42, 260
Suffolk, Duke of, i. 94, "6, 129,

130, 149; ii. 23, 35, 231; iii. 56
Surrey, Earl of, ii. 127, 131, 134
Swiss (guard), i. 64
Swiss Republic, i. 105, 106, 170; ii.

75

Talbot, Lord, i. 93
Talmont, Prince de, i. 159, 182
Tauzannes, Montagnac, ii. 154
Tay, Bastard du, i. 71
Teligny, Francois de, i. 93, 159
Terrail, Pierre, ii. 56
Tours, i. 42, 65

Tremouille, M. de la, i. 7, 87, 90,

105, 108, 178, 247, 248; ii. 56, 66,

108, 155, 216, 223
Treves, Abp. of, ii. 5
Trivulzio, Jean Jacques, i. 53, 58,

74, 88, 159, 262, 265
Trivulzio, Teodoro, ii. 233
Turks, the, i. 195, 268, 278, 284, 304;

ii. 112, 254; iii. 54, 58, 182
Turtoso, Bp. of (see Clement

VII.)

Valaisan, G. de, i. 170
Vandenesse, M. de, i. 21, 25, 28,

29; ii. 188
Vaux, Sir Nicholas, i. 275
Vendome, Due de, i. 136; ii. 109,

133. 155, 171. 242; iii. 154
Venice, i. 47; ii. 253
Vergy, Sieur de, i. 107
Verjus, M. de, i. 246
Viane, Prince de, i. 78
Villa Franca, battle of, i. 167
Villalva, Col., i. 80
Villiers de l'lsle Adam, ii. 42
Viverots, Sieur de, i. 73
Voland, Mdlle. de, ii. 203

W

Wartz, Seigneur de, ii. 142
Watteville, Jacques, i. 105
Wingfield, Sir Richard, ii. 8, 15,

323
Wirtemburg, Duke Ulrich of, i.

105, 107
Wolsey, Card., i. 115, 197. 268, 270;

ii. 16, 18, 33, 36, 51, 54, 79, 88,

126, 251, 323-27; iii. 3, 51
Worcester, Earl of, i. 175

X
Ximenes, Card., i. 205, 288

z

Zapolsky, John de, iii. 53

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DC Pardoe, Miss

113 The court and reign of

P2 Francis the First, king of

1901 France

v. 2

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