France

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Dr. Robert T. Sutherland

CHARLES V.

THE WORLD'S BEST HISTORIES
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FRANCE

BY

M. GUIZOT AND MADAME GUIZOT DE WITT

TRANSLATED BY ROBERT BLACK
IN EIGHT VOLUMES

WITH A SUPPLEMENTARY

CHAPTER OF RECENT EVENTS

BY MAYO W. HAZELTINE

ILLUSTRATED

VOLUME II

THE CO-OPERATIVE PUBLICATION SOCIETY
NEW YORK AND LONDON

_

HISTORY OF FRANCE

VOLUME TWO

TABLE OF CONTENTS-VOL. IL

Pica

XIX. The Communes and the Third Estate , 5

XX. The Hundred Years' War. Philip VI. and John H 41

XXI. The States-General of the Fourteenth Century 108

XXII. The Hundred Years' War. Charles V 130

XXTTT. The Hundred Years' War. Charles VI. and the Dukes of Bur
gundy 174

XXIV. The Hundred Years' War. Charles VH. and Joan of Arc (1421—

1461) 237

XXV. LouisXI. (1461—1483) 318

XXVI. The Wars in Italy. Charles VIH. (1483—1498) ...882

XXVn. The Wars in Italy. Louism (1498-1516) 480

r— M

THE HISTORY OF FRANCE.

CHAPTER xix.

THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE.

THE history of the Merovingians is that of barbarians invad
ing Gaul and settling upon the ruins of the Roman empire.
The history of the Carlovingians is that of the greatest of the
barbarians taking upon himself to resuscitate the Roman em
pire, and of Charlemagne's descendants disputing amongst
themselves for the fragments of his fabric, as fragile as it was
grand. Amidst this vast chaos and upon this double ruin was
formed the feudal system, which by transformation after trans
formation became ultimately France. Hugh Capet, one of its
chieftains, made himself its King. The Capetians achieved the
French kingship. We have traced its character and progress
ive development from the eleventh to the fourteenth century,
through the reigns of Louis the Fat, of Philip Augustus, of St.
Louis and of Philip the Handsome, princes very diverse and
very unequal in merit but all of them able and energetic. This
period was likewise the cradle of the French nation. That was
the time when it began to exhibit itself in its different elements,
and to arise under monarchical rule from the midst of the feu
dal system. Its earliest features and its earliest efforts in the
long and laborious work of its development are now to be set
before the reader's eyes.

The two words inscribed at the head of this chapter, the
Communes and the Third-Estate, are verbal expressions for the
two great facts at that time revealing that the French nation
was in labor of formation. Closely connected one with the
other and tending towards the same end, these two facts are,
nevertheless, very diverse, and even when they have not been
confounded, they have not been with sufficient clearness dis
tinguished and characterized, each of them apart. They are

6 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xix.

diverse both in their chronological date and their social im
portance. The Communes are the first to appear in history.
They appear there as local facts, isolated one from another,
often very different in point of origin though analogous in their
aim, and in every case neither assuming nor pretending to as
sume any place in the government of the State. Local interests
and rights, the special affairs of certain populations agglomer
ated in certain spots, are the only objects, the only province of
the communes. With this purely municipal and individual
character they come to their birth, their confirmation and their
development from the eleventh to the fourteenth century ; and
at the end of two centuries they enter upon their decline, they
occupy far less room and make far less noise in history. It is
exactly then that the Third Estate comes to the front, and up
lifts itself as a general fact, a national element, a political
power. It is the successor, not the contemporary, of the Com
munes ; they contributed much towards, but did not suffice for
its formation ; it drew upon other resources, and was developed
under other influences than those which gave existence to the
communes. It has subsisted, it has gone on growing through
out the whole course of French history ; and at the end of five
centuries, in 1789, when the Communes had for a long while
sunk into languishment and political insignificance, at the mo
ment at which France was electing her Constituent Assembly,
the Abbe Sieyes, a man of powerful rather than scrupulous
mind, could say, "What is the Third Estate* Everything.
What has it hitherto been in the body politic? Nothing.
What does it demand? To be something."

These words contained three grave errors. In the course of
government anterior to 1789, so far was the third estate from
being nothing, that it had been every day becoming greater
and stronger. What was demanded for it in 1789 by M. Sieyes
and his friends was not that it might become something but
that it should be every thing. That was a desire beyond its
right and its strength ; and the very Eevolution, which was its
own victory, proved this. Whatever may have been the weak
nesses and faults of its foes, the third estate had a terrible
struggle to conquer them; and the struggle was so violent and
so obstinate that the third estate was broken up therein, and
had to pay dearly for its triumph. At first it obtained thereby
despotism instead of liberty ; and when liberty returned, the
third estate found itself confronted by twofold hostility, that
of its foes under the old regimen and that of the absolute de-

CH. xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. 1

mocracy which claimed in its turn to be every thing. Outra
geous claims bring about intractable opposition and excite un
bridled ambition. What there was in the words of the Abbe"
Sieyes in 1789 was not the verity of history ; it was a lying
programme of revolution.

We have anticipated dates in order to properly characterize
and explain the facts as they present themselves, by giving a
glimpse of their scope and their attainment. Now that we
have clearly marked the profound difference between the third
estate and the communes, we will return to the communes
alone, which had the priority in respect of time. We will
trace the origin and the composition of the third estate, when
we reach the period at which it became one of the great per
formers in the history of France by reason of the place it as
sumed and the part it played in the States-general of the king
dom.

In dealing with the formation of the communes from the
eleventh to the fourteenth century the majority of the French
historians, even M. Thierry, the most original and clearsighted
of them all, often entitle this event the communal revolution.
This expression hardly gives a correct idea of the fact to which
it is applied. The word revolution, in the sense or at least the
aspect given to it amongst us by contemporary events, points
to the overthrow of a certain regimen and of the ideas and
authority predominant thereunder, and the systematic eleva
tion in their stead of a regimen essentially different in principle
and in fact. The revolutions of our day substitute or would
fain substitute a republic for a monarchy, democracy for aris
tocracy, political liberty for absolute power. The struggles
which from the eleventh to the fourteenth century gave exist
ence to so many communes had no such profound character;
the populations did not pretend to any fundamental overthrow
of the regimen they attacked ; they conspired together, they
swore together, as tho phrase is according to the documents of
the time — they rose to extricate themselves from the outrageous
oppression and misery they were enduring, but not to abolish
feudal sovereignty and to change the personality of their mas
ters. When they succeeded they obtained those treaties of
peace called charters, which brought about in the condition of
the insurgents salutary changes accompanied by more or less
effectual guarantees. When they failed or when the charters
were violated, the result was violent reactions, mutual ex
cesses ; the relations between the populations and their lords

8 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xix.

were tempestuous and full of vicissitude ; but at bottom neither
the political regimen nor the social system of the communes
were altered. And so there were, at many spots without any
connection between them, local revolts and civil wars, but no
communal revolution.

One of the earliest facts of this kind which have been set
forth with some detail in history clearly shows their primitive
character: a fact the more remarkable in that the revolt de
scribed by the chroniclers originated and ran its course in the
country among peasants with a view of recovering complete
independence and not amongst an urban population with a
view of resulting in the erection of a commune. Towards the
end of the tenth century, under Richard II., duke of Normandy,
called the Good, and whilst the good King Robert was reigning
in France, " In several countships of Normandy," says William
of Jumiege, ' ' all the peasants, assembling in their conventicles,
resolved to live according to their inclinations and their own
laws, as well in the interior of the forests as along the rivers,
and to reck naught of any established right. To carry out this
purpose these mobs of madmen chose each two deputies, who
were to form at some central point an assembly charged to see
to the execution of their decrees. As soon as the duke (Rich
ard II.) was informed thereof, he sent a large body of men-at-
arms to repress this audaciousness of the country districts and
to scatter this rustic assemblage. In execution of his orders,
the deputies of the peasants and many other rebels were forth
with arrested, their feet and hands were cut off, and they were
sent away thus m'utilated to their homes, in order to deter
their like from such enterprises and to make them wiser, for
fear of worse. After this experience the peasants left off their
meetings and returned to their ploughs."

It was about eighty years after the event when the monk
William of Jumiege told the story of this insurrection of peas
ants so long anterior, and yet so similar to that which more
than three centuries afterwards broke out in nearly the whole
of Northern France, and which was called the Jacquery. Less
than a century after William of Jumiege a Norman poet, Rob
ert Wace, told the same story in his Romance of Ron, a history
in verse of Rollo and the first dukes of Normandy: " The lords
do us naught but ill," he makes the Norman peasants say:
"with them we have nor gain nor profit from our labors;
every day is for us a day of suffering, of travail and of fatigue;
every day our beasts are taken from us for forced labor and

CH. xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. 9

services .... why put up with all this evil, and why not get
quit of travail? Are not we men even as they are? Have we
not the same stature, the same limbs, the same strength — for
suffering? Bind we ourselves by oath; swear we to aid one
another; and if they be minded to make war on us have we
not for every knight thirty or forty young peasants ready and
willing to fight with club or boar-spear or arrow or axe or
stones if they have not arms? Learn we to resist the knights,
and we shall be free to hew down trees, to hunt game, and to
fish after our fashion, and we shall work our will on flood and
in field and wood."

These two passages have already been quoted in Chapter xiv.
of this history in the course of describing the general condition
of France under the Capetians before the crusades, and they
are again brought forward here because they express and paint
to the life the chief cause which from the end of the tenth cen
tury led to so many insurrections amongst the rural as well as
urban populations and brought about the establishment of so
many communes.

We say the chief cause only, because oppression and insur
rection were not the sole origin of the communes. Evil, moral
and material, abounds in human communities, but it never has
the sole dominion there ; force never drives justice into utter
banishment, and the ruffianly violence of the strong never
stifles in all hearts every sympathy for the weak. Two causes,
quite distinct from feudal oppression, viz. Roman traditions
and Christian sentiments, had their share in the formation of
the communes and in the beneficial results thereof.

The Roman municipal regimen, which is described in M. Gui-
zot's Essais sur VHistoire de France (1st Essay, pp. 1-44), did
not every where perish with the empire ; it kept its footing in
a great number of towns, especially in those of Southern Gaul,
Marseilles, Aries, Nismes, Narbonne, Toulouse, &c. At Aries
the municipality actually bore the name of commune (com-
munitas), Toulouse gave her municipal magistrates the name
of Capitouls, after the Capitol of Rome, and in the greater part
of the other towns in the South they were called Consuls.
After the great invasion of barbarians from the seventh to the
end of the eleventh century, the existence of these Roman
municipalities appears but rarely and confusedly in history ;
but in this there is nothing peculiar to the towns and the muni
cipal regimen, for confusion and obscurity were at that time
universal, and the nascent feudal system was plunged therein

10 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. ro.

as well as the dying little municipal systems were. Many Ro
man municipalities were still subsisting without influencing
any event of at all a general kind and without leaving any
trace ; and as the feudal system grew and grew they still went
on in the midst of universal darkness and anarchy. They had
penetrated into the north of Gaul in fewer numbers and with
a weaker organization than in the south, but still keeping their
footing and vaunting themselves on their Roman origin in the
face of their barbaric conquerors. The inhabitants of Rheims
remembered with pride that their municipal magistracy and
its jurisdiction were anterior to Clovis, dating as they did from
before the days of St. Remigius, the apostle of the Franks.
The burghers of Metz boasted of having enjoyed civil rights be
fore there was any district of Lorraine: ''Lorraine," said they,
"is young, and Metz is old." The city of Bourges was one of
the most complete examples of successive transformations and
denominations attained by a Roman municipality from the
sixth to the thirteenth century under the Merovingians, the
Carlovingians, and the earliest Capetians. At the time of the
invasion it had arenas, an amphitheatre, and all that charac
terized a Roman city. In the seventh century, the author of
the lif e of St. Estadiola, born at Bourges, says that ' ' she was
the child of illustrious parents who, as worldly dignity is ac
counted, were notable by reason of senatorial rank ; and Greg
ory of Tours quotes a judgment delivered by the principals
(grimores) of the city of Bourges. Coins of the time of Charles
the Bald are struck with the name of the city of Bourges and
its inhabitants (Bituriges). In 1107, under Philip I., the mem
bers of the municipal body of Bourges are named prutfhommes.
In two charters, one of Louis the Young, in 1145, and the other
of Philip Augustus, in 1218, the old senators of Bourges have
the name at one time of bons hommes, at another of barons of
the city. Under different names, in accordance with changes
of language, the Roman municipal regimen held on and adapt
ed itself to new social conditions.

In our own day there has been far too much inclination to
dispute, and M. Augustin Thierry has, in M. Guizot's opinion,
made far too little of, the active and effective part played by
the kingship in the formation and protection of the French
communes. Not only did the kings, as we shall presently see,
often interpose as mediators in the quarrels of the communes
with their laic or ecclesiastical lords, but many amongst them
assumed in their own domains and to the profit of the com-

OH. xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. H

mimes an intelligent and beneficial initiative. The city of
Orleans was a happy example of this. It was of ancient date,
and had prospered under the Eoman empire ; nevertheless the
continuance of the Eoman municipal regimen does not appear
there clearly as we have just seen that it did in the case of
Bourges ; it is chiefly from the middle ages and their kings
that Orleans held its municipal franchises and its privileges ;
they never raised it to a commune, properly so called, by a
charter sworn to and guaranteed by independent constitutions,
but they set honestly to work to prevent local oppression, to
reform abuses, and make justice prevail there. From 1051 to
1281 there are to be found in the Recueil des ordonnances des
rois seven important charters relating to Orleans. In 1051, at
the demand of the people of Orleans and its bishop, who ap
pears in the charter as the head of the people, the defender of
the city, Henry I. secures to the inhabitants of Orleans freedom
of labor and of going to and fro during the vintages, and inter
dicts his agents from exacting anything upon the entry of
wines. From 1137 to 1178, during the administration of Suger,
Louis the Young in four successive ordinances gives, in respect
of Orleans, precise guarantees for freedom of trade, security of
person and property, and the internal peace of the city ; and in
1183 Philip Augustus exempts from all talliage, that is, from
all personal impost, the present and future inhabitants of
Orleans, and grants them divers privileges, amongst others that
of not going to law-courts farther from their homes than
Etampes. In 1281 Philip the Bold renews and confirms the
concessions of Philip Augustus. Orleans was not, within the
royal domain, the only city where the kings of that period
were careful to favor the progress of the population, of wealth
and of security ; several other cities and even less considerable
burghs obtained similar favor ; and in 1155 Louis the Young
probably in confirmation of an act of his father Louis the Fat,
granted to the little town of Lorris, in GaMnais (now-a-days
chief place of a canton in the department of the Loiret), a
charter, full of detail, which regulated its interior regimen in
financial, commercial, judicial, and military matters, and se
cured to all its inhabitants good conditions in respect of civil
life. This charter was in the course of the twelfth century re
garded as so favorable that it was demanded by a great num
ber of towns and burghs ; the king was asked for the customs of
Loris (consuetudines Lauracienses), and in the space of fifty
years they were granted to seven towns, some of them a ooa-

12 HISTORY OF FRANCE. £CH. xix,

siderable distance from Orleanness. The towns which obtained
them did not become by this qualification communes properly
so called in the special and historical sense of the word ; they
had no jurisdiction of their own, no independent magistracy ;
they had not their own government in their hands ; the king's
officers, provosts, bailiffs, or others, were the only persons who
exercised there a real and decisive power. But the king's
promises to the inhabitants, the rights which he authorized
them to claim from him, and the rules which he imposed upon
his officers in their goverment, were not concessions which
were of no value or which remained without fruit. As we fol
low in the course of our history the towns which, without hav
ing been raised to communes properly so called, had obtained
advantages of that kind, we see them developing and growing
in population and wealth, and sticking more and more closely
to that kingship from which they had received their privileges,
and which, for all its imperfect observance and even frequent
violation of promises, was nevertheless accessible to complaint,
repressed from time to time the misbehavior of its officers, re
newed at need and even extended privileges, and, in a word,
promoted in its administration the progress of civilization and
the counsels of reason, and thus attached the burghers to itself
without recognizing on their side those positive rights and
those guarantees of administrative independence which are in
a perfectly and solidly constructed social fabric the foundation
of political liberty.

Nor was it the kings alone who in the middle ages listened to
the counsels of reason, and recognized in their behavior to
wards their towns the rights of justice. Many bishops had
become the feudal lords of the episcopal city ; and the Christian
spirit enlightened and animated many amongst them just as
the monarchical spirit sometimes enlightened and guided the
kings. Troubles had arisen in the town of Cambrai between
the bishops and the people. " There was amongst the members
of the metropolitan clergy," says M. Angustin Thierry, "a.
certain Baudri de Sarchainville, a native of Artois, who had
the title of chaplain of the bishopric. He was a man of high
character and of wise and reflecting mind. He did not share
the violent aversion felt by most of his order for the institution
of communes. He saw in this institution a sort of necessity
beneath which it would be inevitable sooner or later, willy
nilly, to bow, and he thought it was better to surrender to the
wishes of the citizens than to shed blood in order to postpone

CH. xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE TRIED ESTATE. 13

for awhile an unavoidable revolution. In 1098 he was elected
bishop of Noyon. He found this town in the same state in
which he had seen that of Cambrai. The burghers were at
daily loggerheads with the metropolitan clergy, and the regis
ters of the Church contained a host of documents entitled
4 Peace made between us and the burghers of Noyon.' But no
reconciliation was lasting; the truce was soon broken, either
by the clergy or by the citizens who were the more touchy in
that they had less security for their persons and their property.
The new bishop thought that the establishment of a commune
sworn to by both the rival parties might become a sort of com
pact of alliance between them, and he set about realizing this
noble idea before the word commune had served at Noyon ae
the rallying cry of popular insurrection. Of his own mere*
motion he convoked in assembly all the inhabitants of thv
town, clergy, knights, traders, and craftsmen. He presented
them with a charter which constituted the body of burghers
an association forever under magistrates called jurymen like
those of Cambrai. 4 Whosoever,' said the charter, 'shall de
sire to enter this commune shall not be able to be received as a
member of it by a single individual, but only in the presence of
the jurymen. The sum of money he shall then give shall be
employed for the benefit of the town, and not for the private
advantage of any one whatsoever. If the commune be out
raged, all those who have sworn to it shall be bound to march
to its defence, and none shall be empowered to remain at home
unless he be infirm or sick, or so poor that he must needs be
himself the watcher of his own wife and children lying sick.
If any one have wounded or slain any one on the territory of
the commune the jurymen shall take vengeance therefor.' "

The other articles guarantee to the members of the commune
of Noyon the complete ownership of their property, and the
right of not being handed over to justice save before their own
municipal magistrates. The bishop first swore to this charter,
and the inhabitants of every condition took the same oath after
him. In virtue of his pontifical authority he pronounced the
anathema, and all the curses of the Old and New Testament,
against whoever should in time to come dare to dissolve the
commune or infringe its regulations. Furthermore, in order
to give this new pact a stronger warranty, Baudri requested
the king of France, Louis the Fat, to corroborate it, as they
used to say at the time, by his approbation and by the great
seal of the crown. The king consented to this request of the

14 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. ra.

bishop, and that was all the part taken by Louis the Fat in the
establishment of the commune of Noyon. The king's charter
is not preserved, but, under the date of 1108, there is extant
one of the bishop's own, which may serve to substantiate the
account given :

" Baudri, by the grace of God bishop of Noyon, to all those
who do persevere and go on in the faith :

"Most dear brethren, we learn by the example and words of
the holy Fathers, that all good things ought to be committed
to writing for fear lest hereafter they come to be forgotten.
Know then all Christians present and to come, that I have
formed at Noyon a commune, constituted by the counsel and
in an assembly of clergy, knights, and burghers ; that I have
confirmed it by oath, by pontifical authority and by the bond
of anathema, and that I have prevailed upon our lord King
Louis to grant this commune and corroborate it with the king's
seal. This establishment formed by me, sworn to by a great
number of persons, and granted by the king, let none be so
bold as to destroy or alter ; I give warning thereof, on behalf
of God and myself, and I forbid it in the name of pontifical
authority. Whosoever shall transgress and violate the present
law, be subjected to excommunication ; and whosoever, on the
contrary, shall faithfully keep it, be preserved forever amongst
those who dwell in the house of the Lord."

This good example was not without fruit. The communal
regimen was established in several towns, notably at St.
Quentin and at Soissons, without trouble or violence, and with
one accord amongst the laic and ecclesiastical lords and the
inhabitants.

We arrive now at the third and chief source of the com
munes, at the case of those which met feudal oppression with
energetic resistance, and which after all the sufferings, vicissi
tudes and outrages, on both sides, of a prolonged struggle
ended by winning a veritable administrative and, to a certain
extent, political independence. The number of communes thus
formed from the eleventh to the thirteenth century was great,
and we have a detailed history of the fortunes of several
amongst themj Cambrai, Beauvais, Laon, Amiens, Rheims,
Etampes, Vezelay, &c. To give a correct and vivid picture of
them we will choose the commune of Laon, which was one of
those whose fortunes were most checkered as well as most
tragic, and which after more than two centuries of a very
tempestuous existence was sentenced to complete abolition,

CH. xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE TRIED ESTATE. 15

first by Philip the Handsome, then by Philip the Long and
Charles the Handsome, and, finally, by Philip of Valois, " for
certain misdeeds and excesses notorious, enormous, and detest-
able, and on full deliberation of our council." The early por
tion of the history connected with the commune of Laon has
been narrated for us by Guibert, an abbot of Nogent-sous-
Coucy, in the diocese of Laon, a contemporary writer, sprightly
and bold. " In all that I have written and am still writing,"
says he, " I dismiss all men from my mind, caring not a whit
about pleasing anybody. I have taken my side in the opinions
of the world, and with calmness and indifference on my own
account I expect to be exposed to all sorts of language, to be as
it were beaten with rods. I proceed with my task, being fully
purposed to bear with equanimity the judgments of all who
come snarling after me."

Laon was at the end of the eleventh century one of the most
important towns in the kingdom of France. It was full of
rich and industrious inhabitants ; the neighboring people came
thither for provisions or diversion ; and such concourse led to
the greatest disturbances. " The nobles and their servitors,"
says M. Augustin Thierry, '* sword in hand, committed rob
bery upon the burghers ; the streets of the town were not safe
by night or even by day, and none could go out without run
ning a risk of being stopped and robbed or killed. The burghers
in their turn committed violence upon the peasants, who came
to buy or sell at the market of the town." "Let me give as
example," says Guibert of Nogent, " a single fact, which had
it taken place amongst the Barbarians or the Scythians, would
assuredly have been considered the height of wickedness, in
the judgment even of those who recognize no law. On Satur
day the inhabitants of the country-places used to leave their
fiolds, and come from all sides to Laon to get provisions at the
market. The townsfolk used then to go round the place
carrying in baskets or bowls or otherwise samples of vege
tables or grain or any other article, as if they wished to sell.
They would offer them to the first peasant who was in search
of such things to buy; he would promise to pay the price
agreed upon; and then the seller would say to the buyer,
' Come with me to my house to see and examine the whole of
the articles [I am selling you.' The other would go; and then,
when they came to the bin containing the goods, the honest
seller would take off and hold up the lid, saying to the buyer,
1 Step hither, and put your head or arms into the bin to make

16 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. XUL

quite sure that it is all exactly the same goods as I showed you
outside.1 And then when the other, jumping on to the edge of
the bin, remained leaning on his belly, with his head and
shoulders hanging down, the worthy seller, who kept in the
rear, would hoist up the thoughtless rustic by the feet, push
hi™ suddenly into the bin, and, clapping on the lid as he fell,
keep him shut up in this safe prison until he had bought him-
self out."

In 1106 the bishopric of Laon had been two years vacant. It
was sought after and obtained for a sum of money, say con
temporaries, by Gaudri, a Norman by birth, referendary of
Henry I., king of England, and one of those Churchmen who,
according to M. Augustin Thierry's expression, "had gone in
the train of William the Bastard to seek their fortunes amongst
the English by seizing the property of the vanquished." It
appears that thenceforth the life of Gaudri had been scarcely
edifying; he had, it is said, the tastes and habits of a soldier;
he was hasty and arrogant, and he liked beyond every thing to
talk of fighting and hunting, of arms, of horses, and of hounds.
When he was repairing with a numerous following to Rome,
to ask for confirmation of his election, he met at Langres Pope
Pascal II., come to France to keep the festival of Christmas at
the abbey of Cluny. The pope had no doubt heard something
about the indifferent reputation of the new bishop, for, the very
day after his arrival at Langres, he held a conference with the
ecclesiastics who had accompanied Gaudri and plied them with
questions concerning him. " He asked us first," says Guibert
of Nogent, who was in the train, "why we had chosen a man
who was unknown to us. As none of the priests, some of whom
did not know even the first rudiments of the Latin language,
made any answer to this question, he turned to the abbots. I
was seated between my two colleagues. As they likewise kept
silence, I began to be urged, right and left, to speak. I was
one of those whom this election had displeased ; but with cul
pable timidity I had yielded to the authority of my superiors
in dignity. With the bashfulness of youth I could only with
great difficulty and much blushing prevail upon myself to open
my mouth. The discussion was carried on not in our mother-
tongue but in the language of scholars. I therefore, though
with great confusion of mind and face, betook myself to speak
ing in a manner to tickle the palate of him who was question
ing us, wrapping up in artfully arranged form of speech ex
pressions which were softened down, but were not entirely

CH. xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. 17

removed from the truth. I said that we did not know, it was
true, to the extent of having been familiar by sight and inter
course with him, the man of whom we had made choice, but
that we had received favorable reports of his integrity. The
pope strove to confound my arguments by this quotation from
the Gospel: "He that hath seen giveth testimony." But as he
did not explicitly raise the objection that Gaudri had been
elected by desire of the court, all subtle subterfuge on any such
point became useless; so I gave it up, and confessed that I
could say nothing in opposition to the pontiff's words; which
pleased him very much, for he had less scholarship than would
have become his high office. Clearly perceiving, however, that
all the phrases I had piled up in defence of our election had
but little weight, I launched out afterwards upon the urgent
straits wherein our Church was placed, and on this subject I
gave myself the more rein in proportion as the person elected
was unfitted for the functions of the episcopate."

Gaudri was indeed very scantily fitted for the office of bishop,
as the town of Laon was not slow to perceive. Scarcely had
he been installed when he committed strange outrages. He had
a man's eyes put out on suspicion of connivance with his ene
mies; and he tolerated the murder of another in the metro
politan church. In imitation of rich crusaders on their return
from the East he kept a black slave, whom he employed upon
his deeds of vengeance. The burghers began to be disquieted,
and to wax wroth. During a trip the bishop made to England,
they offered a great deal of money to the clergy and knights
who ruled in his absence, if they would consent to recognize
by a genuine Act the right of the commonalty of the inhabi
tants to be governed by authorities of their own choice. " The
clergy and knights," says a contemporary chronicler, "came
to an agreement with the common folk in hopes of enriching
themselves in a speedy and easy fashion. " A commune was
therefore set up and proclaimed at Laon, on the model of that
of Noyon, and invested with effective powers. The bishop, on
his return, was very wroth, and for some days abstained from
re-entering the town. But the burghers acted with him as
they had with his clergy and the knights : they offered him so
large a sum of money that "it was enough," says Guibert of
Nogent, "to appease the tempest of his words." He accepted
the commune, and swore to respect it. The burghers wished
to have a higher warranty ; so they sent to Paris to King Louis
the Fat a deputation laden with rich presents. "The king/

18 HISTORY OF FRANCS. cm. xix.

says the chronicler, "won over by this plebeian bounty, con
firmed the commune by his own oath," and the deputation took
back to Laon their charter sealed with the great seal of the
crown, and augmented by two articles to the following pur
port: " The folks of Laon shall not be liable to be forced to law
away from their town ; if the king have a suit against any one
amongst them justice shall be done him in the episcopal court.
For these advantages and others further granted to the afore
said inhabitants by the king's munificence the folks of the
commune have covenanted to give the king, besides the old
plenary court dues, and man-and-horse dues [dues paid for ex
emption from active service in case of war], three lodgings a
year, if be come to the town, and, if he do not come, they will
pay him instead twenty livres for each lodging."

For three years the town of Laon was satisfied and tranquil;
the burghers were happy in the security they enjoyed and
proud of the liberty they had won. But in 1112 the knights,
the clergy of the metropolitan church and the bishop himself
had spent the money they had received, and keenly regretted
the power they had lost ; and they meditated reducing to the
old condition the serfs emancipated from the yoke. The bishop
invited King Louis the Fat to come to Laon for the keeping of
Holy Week, calculating upon his presence for the intimidation
of the burghers. " But the burghers who were in fear of ruin,"
says Guibert of Nogent, " promised the King and those about
him 400 livres or more, I am not quite sure which ; whilst the
bishop and the grandees, on their side, urged the monarch to
come to an understanding with them, and engaged to pay him
700 livres. King Louis was so striking in person that he seemed
made expressly for the majesty of the throne; he was cour
ageous in war, a foe to all slowness in business, and stout
hearted in adversity; sound, however, as he was on every
other point, he was hardly praiseworthy in this one respect
that he opened too readily both heart and ear to vile fellows
corrupted by avarice. This vice was a fruitful source of hurt
as well as blame to himself, to say nothing of unhappiness
to many. The cupidity of this prince always caused him to
incline towards those who promised him most. All his own
oaths and those of the bishops and the grandees were conse
quently violated." The charter sealed with the king's seal was
annulled; and on the part of the king and the bishop an order
was issued to all the magistrates of the commune to cease from
their functions, to give up the seal and banner of the town, and

CH. xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. 19

to no longer ring the belfry-chimes which rang out the opening
and closing of their audiences. But at this proclamation so
violent was the uproar in the town, that the king, who had
hitherto lodged in a private hotel, thought it prudent to leave,
and go to pass the night in the episcopal palace, which was
surrounded by strong walls. Not content with this precaution,
and probably a little ashamed of what he had done, he left
Laon the next morning at daybreak, with all his train, without
waiting for the festival of Easter, for the celebration of which
he had undertaken his journey.

All the day after his departure the shops of the tradespeople
and the houses of the innkeepers were kept closed ; no sort of
article was offered for sale ; every body remained shut up at
home. But when there is wrath at the bottom of men's souls,
the silence and stupor of the first paroxysm are of short dura
tion. Next day a rumor spread that the bishop and the gran
dees were busy " in calculating the fortunes of all the citizens,
in order to demand that, to supply the sum promised to the
King, each should pay on account of the destruction of the
commune as much as each had given for its establishment."
In a fit of violent indignation the burghers assembled; and
forty of them bound themselves by oath, for life or death, to
kill the bishop and all those grandees who had labored for the
ruin of the commune. The archdeacon, Anselm, a good sort
of man, of obscure birth, who heartily disapproved of the
bishop's perjury, went nevertheless and warned him, quite
privately and without betraying any one, of the danger that
threatened him, urging him not to leave his house, and par
ticularly not to accompany the procession on Easter-day.
"Poohl" answered the bishop, " / die by the hands of such
fellows !" Next day, nevertheless, he did not appear at matins
and did not set foot within the church ; but when the hour for
the procession came, fearing to be accused of cowardice, he
issued forth at the head of his clergy, closely followed by his
domestics and some knights with arms and armor under their
clothes. As the company filed past, one of the forty conspira
tors, thinking the moment favorable for striking the blow,
rushed out suddenly from under an arch with a shout of
"Commune! commune!" A low murmur ran through the
throng ; but not a soul joined in the shout or the movement,
and the ceremony came to an end without any explosion. The
day after, another solemn procession was to take place to the
church of St. Vincent. Somewhat reassured, but still some'

20 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xix.

what disquieted, the bishop fetched from the domains of the
bishopric a body of peasants, some of whom he charged to
protect the church, others his own palace, and once more ac
companied the procession without the conspirators' daring to
attack him. This time he was completely reassured and dis
missed the peasants he had sent for. "On the fourth day after
Easter, "says Guibert of Nogent, "my corn having been pil
laged in consequence of the disorder that reigned in the town, I
repaired to the bishop's, and prayed him to put a stop to this
state of violence. 4 What do you suppose, ' said he to me,
* those fellows can do with all their outbreaks? Why if my
blackamoor John were to pull the nose of the most formidable
amongst them the poor devil durst not even grumble. Have 1
not forced them to give up what they called their commune,
for the whole duration of my life?' I held my tongue," adds
Guibert ; ' ' many folks besides me warned him of his danger ;
but he would not deign to believe any body."

Three days later all seemed quiet ; and the bishop was busy
with his archdeacon in discussing the sums to be exacted from
the burghers. All at once a tumult arose in the town ; and a
crowd of people thronged the streets, shouting "Commune!
commune!" Bands of burghers armed with swords, axes,
bows, hatchets, clubs, and lances, rushed into the episcopal
palace. At the news of this, the knights who had promised
the bishop to go to his assistance if he needed it came up one
after another to his protection ; and three of them, in succes
sion, were hotly attacked by the burgher bands, and fell after
a short resistance. The episcopal palace was set on fire. The
bishop, not being in a condition to repulse the assaults of the
populace, assumed the dress of one of his own domestics, fled
to the cellar of the church, shut himself in and ensconced him-
sels in a cask, the bung-hole of which was stopped up by a
faithful servitor. The crowd wandered about every where in
/search of him on whom they wished to wreak their vengeance.
A bandit named Teutgaud, notorious in those times for his
robberies, assaults and murders of travellers, had thrown him
self headlong into the cause of the commune. The bishop, who
knew him, had by way of pleasantry and on account of his evil
mien given him the nick-name of Isengrin. This was the name
which was given in the fables of the day to the wolf, and which
corresponded to that of Master Reynard. Teutgaud and his
men penetrated into the cellar of the church; they went along
tapping upon all the casks; and on what suspicion there is no

CH. xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE TRIED ESTATE. 21

knowing, but Teutgaud halted in front of that in which the
bishop was huddled up, and had it opened, crying "Is there
any one here?" "Only a poor prisoner," answered the bishop
trembling. " Ha ! ha !" said the playful bandit, who recognized
the voice, " so it is you, Master Isengrin, who are hiding here !"
And he took him by the hair, and dragged him out of his cask.
The bishop implored the conspirators to spare his life, offering
to swear on the Gospels to abdicate the bishopric, promising
them all the money he possessed, and saying that if they
pleased he would leave the country. The reply was insults
and blows. He was immediately despatched ; and Teutgaud,
seeing the episcopal ring glittering on his finger, cut off the
finger to get possession of the ring. The body, stripped of all
covering, was thrust into a corner, where passers-by threw
stones or mud at it, accompanying their insults with ribaldry
and curses.

Murder and arson are contagious. All the day of the insur
rection and all the following night armed bands wandered
about the streets of Laon searching every where for relatives,
friends, or servitors of the bishop, for all whom the angry
populace knew or supposed to be such, and wreaking on their
persons or their houses a ghastly or a brutal vengeance. In a
fit of terror many poor innocents fled before the blind wrath
of the populace; some were caught and cut down pell-mell
amongst the guilty; others escaped through the vineyards
planted between two hills in the outskirts of the town. ' ' The
progress of the fire, kindled on two sides at once, was so rapid, "
saysGuibert of Nogent, "and the winds drove the flames so
furiously in the direction of the convent of St. Vincent, that
the monks were afraid of seeing all they possessed become the
fire's prey, and all the persons who had taken refuge in this
monastery trembled as if they had seen swords hanging over
their heads." Some insurgents stopped a young man who had
been body-servant to the bishop, and asked him whether the
bishop had been killed or not ; they knew nothing about it, nor
did he know any more ; he helped them to look for the corpse,
and when they came upon it, it had been so mutilated that not
a teature was recognizable. "I remember," said the young
man, " that when the prelate was alive he liked to talk of deeds
of war, for which to his hurt he always showed too much
bent ; and he often used to say that one day in a sham fight
just as he was, all in the way of sport, attacking a certain
knight, the latter hit him with bis lance, and wounded him

22 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH. m.

under the neck near the tracheal artery." The body of Gaudri
was eventually recognized by this mark, and "Archdeacon
Anselm went the next day," says Guibert of Nogent, " to beg
of the insurgents permission at least to bury it, if only because
it had once borne the title and worn the insignia of bishop.
They consented, but reluctantly. It were impossible to tell
how many threats and insults were launched against those
who undertook the obsequies, and what outrageous language
was vented against the dead himself. His corpse was thrown
into a half -dug hole, and at church there was none of the
prayers or ceremonies prescribed for the burial of, I will not
say a bishop, but the worst of Christians." A few days after
wards Eaoul, archbishop of Rheims, came to Laon to purity
the church'. "The wise and venerable archbishop," says
Guibert, "after having, on his arrival, seen to more decently
disposing the remains of some of the dead and celebrated
divine service in memory of all, amidst the tears and utter
grief of their relatives and connections, suspended the holy
sacrifice of the mass, in order to deliver a discourse, touching
those execrable institutions of communes, whereby we see
serfs, contrary to all right and justice, withdrawing them
selves by force from the lawful authority of their masters."

Here is a striking instance of the changeableness of men's
feelings and judgments; and it causes a shock even when it is
natural and almost allowable. Guibert of Nogent, the con
temporary historian, who was but lately loud in his blame of
the bishop of Laon's character and conduct, now takes sides
with the reaction aroused by popular excesses and vindictive-
ness, and is indignant with " those execrable institutions of
communes," the source of so many disturbances and crimes.
The burghers of Laon themselves, " having reflected upon the
number and enormity of the crimes they had committed,
shrank up with fear," says Guibert, " and dreaded the judg
ment of the king." To protect themselves against the conse
quences of his resentment, they added a fresh wound to the
old by summoning to their aid Thomas de Marie, son of Lord
Enguerrand de Coucy. "This Thomas, from his earliest
youth, enriched himself by plundering the poor and the
pilgrim, contracted several incestuous marriages, and exhibited
a ferocity so unheard of in our age that certain people, even
amongst those who have a reputation for cruelty, appear less
lavish of the blood of common sheep than Thomas was of
human blood. Such was the man whom the burghers of Laon

CH. xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. 23

implored to come and put himself at their head, and whom
they welcomed with joy when he entered their town. As for
Mm, when he had heard their request, he consulted his own
people to know what he ought to do; and they all replied that
his forces were not sufficiently numerous to defend such a city
against the king. Thomas then induced the burghers to go
out and hold a meeting in a field where he would make known
to them his plan. When they were about a mile from the
town, he said to them: 'Laonis the head of the kingdom; it
is impossible for me to keep the king from making himself
master of it. If you dread his arms, follow me to my own
land, and you will find hi me a protector and a friend.' These
words threw them into an access of consternation ; soon how
ever the popular party, troubled at the recollection of the
crime they had committed, and fancying they already saw
the king threatening their lives, fled away to the number of a
great many in the wake of Thomas. Teutgard himself, that
murderer of Bishop Gaudri, hastened to put himself under the
wing of the lord of Marie. Before long the rumor spread abroad
amongst the population of the country-places near Laon that
that town was quite empty of inhabitants; and all the peasants
rushed thither and took possession of the houses they found
without defenders. Who could tell or be believed if he were to
attempt to tell how much money, raiment, and provision of
all kinds were discovered in this city? Before long there
arose between the first and last comers disputes about the
partition of their plunder; all that the small folks had taken
soon passed into the hands of the powerful ; if two men met a
third quite alone they stripped him; the state of the town was
truly pitiable. The burghers who had quitted it with Thomas
de Marie had beforehand destroyed and burnt the houses ot the
clergy and grandees whom they hated; and now the grandees,
escaped from the massacre, carried off in their turn from the
houses of the fugitives all means of subsistence and all
movables to the very hinges and bolts."

The rumor of so many disasters, crimes, and reactions sue*
ceeding one another spread rapidly throughout all districts,.
Thomas de Marie was put under the ban of the kingdom, and
visited with excommunication "by a general assembly of the
Church of the Gauls," says Guibert of Nogent, "assembled at
Beauvais;" and this sentence was read every Sunday after
mass in all the metropolitan and parochial churches. Public
feeling against Thomas de Marie became so strong that

2 VOL. 2

24 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xix

Enguerrand de Boves, lord of Coucy, who passed, says Suger,
for his father, joined those who declared war against him in thfl
name of Church and King. Louis the Fat took the field in
person against him. '* Men-at-arms, and in very small num
bers, too," says Guibert of Nogent, "were with difficulty in
duced to second the king and did not do so heartily ; but the
light-armed infantry made up a considerable force, and the
archbishop of Rheims and the bishops had summoned all the
people to this expedition, whilst offering to all absolution from
their sins. Thomas de Marie, though at that time helpless and
stretched upon his bed, was not sparing of scoffs and insults
towards his assailants; and at first he absolutely refused to
listen to the king's summons." But Louis persisted without
wavering in his enterprise, exposing himself freely and in
person leading his infantry to the attack when the men-at-
arms did not come on or bore themselves slackly. He carried
successively the castles of Crecy and Nogent, domains belong
ing to Thomas de Marie, and at last reduced him to the neces
sity of buying himself off at a heavy ransom, indemnifying
the churches he had spoiled, giving guarantees for future
behavior, and earnestly praying for re-admission to the com
munion of the faithful. As for those folks of Laon, perpe
trators of or accomplices in the murder of Bishop Gaudri, who
had sought refuge with Thomas de Marie, the king showed
them no mercy. "He ordered them," says Suger, "to be
strung up to the gibbet, and left for food to the voracity of
kites and crows and vultures."

There are certain discrepancies between the two accounts,
both contemporaneous, which we possess of this incident in the
earliest years of the twelfth century, one in the Life of Louis
the Fat, by Suger, and the other in the Life of Guibert of
Nogent, by himself. They will be easily recognized on
comparing what was said, after Suger, in Vol. I. of this history
(chap, xviii.), with what has just been said here after Guibert.
But these discrepancies are of no historical importance, for
they make no difference in respect of the essential facts
characteristic of social condition at the period and of the
behavior and position of the actors.

Louis the Fat, after his victory over Thomas de Marie and
the fugitives from Laon, went to Laon with the archbishop
of Rheims; and the presence of the king, whilst restoring
power to the foes of the commune, inspired them no doubt
with a little of the spirit of moderation, for there was as

OH. DX.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. 25

interval of peace, during which no attention was paid to any
thing but expiatory ceremonies and the restoration of the
churches which had been a prey to the flames. The archbishop
celebrated a solemn mass for the repose of the souls of those
who had perished during the disturbances, and he preached
a sermon exhorting serfs to submit themselves to their masters,
and warning them on pain of anathema from resisting by
force. The burghers of Laon, however, did not consider every
sort of resistance forbidden, and the lords had no doubt been
taught not to provoke it, for in 1128, sixteen years after the
murder of Bishop Gaudri, fear of a fresh insurrection deter
mined his successor to consent to the institution of a new
commune, the charter of which was ratified by Louis the Fat
in an assembly held at Compiegne, Only the name of com
mune did not recur in this charter ; it was replaced by that of
Peace-establishment; the territorial boundaries of the com
mune were called peace-boundaries, and to designate its mem
bers recourse was had to the formula, All those who have
signed this peace. The preamble of the charter runs, " In the
name of the holy and indivisible Trinity, we Louis, by the
grace of God king of the French, do make known to all our
lieges present and to come that, with the consent of the barons
of our kingdom and the inhabitants of the city of Laon, we have
set up, in the said city, a peace-establishment." And after
having enumerated the limits, forms and rules of it, the
charter concludes with this declaration of amnesty: "All
former trespasses and offences committed before the ratifica
tion of the present treaty are wholly pardoned. If any one,
banished for having trespassed in past time, desire to return
to the town, he shall be admitted and shall recover possession
of his property. Excepted from pardon, however, are the
thirteen whose names do follow;" and then come the names of
the thirteen excepted from the amnesty and still under banish
ment. " Perhaps," says M. Augustin Thierry, " these thirteen
under banishment, shut out forever from their native town at
the very moment it became free, had been distinguished
amongst all the burghers of Laon by their opposition to the
power of the lords; perhaps they had sullied by deeds of
violence this patriotic opposition; perhaps they had been
taken at hap-hazard to suffer alone for the crimes of their
fellow-citizens." The second hypothesis appears the most
probable; for that deeds of violence and cruelty had been com
mitted alternately by the burghers and their foes is an

26 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xix.

tained fact, and that the charter of 1128 was really a work of
liberal pacification is proved by its contents and wording.
After such struggles and at the moment of their subsidence
some of the most violent actors always bear the burden of the
past, and amongst the most violent some are often the most
sincere.

For forty-seven years after the charter of Louis the Fat the
town of Laon enjoyed the internal peace and the communal
liberties it had thus achieved ; but in 1175 a new bishop, Roger
de Rosoy, a man of high birth and related to several of the
great lords his neighbors, took upon himself to disregard the
regimen of freedom established at Laon. The burghers of
Laon, taught by experience, applied to the king, Louis the
Young, and offered him a sum of money to grant them a
charter of commune. Bishop Roger, ' ' by himself and through
his friends," says a chronicler, a canon of Laon, " implored
the king to have pity on his Church, and abolish the serfs'
commune; but the king, clinging to the promise he had
received of money, would not listen to the bishop or his
friends," and in 1177 gave the burghers of Laon a charter
which confirmed their peace-establishment of 1128. Bishop
Roger, however, did not hold himself beaten. He claimed the
help of the lords his neighbors and renewed the war against
the burghers of Laon, who on their side asked and obtained
the aid of several communes in the vicinity. In an access of
democratic rashness, instead of awaiting within their walls
the attack of their enemies, they marched out without cavalry
to the encounter, ravaging as they went the lands of the lords
whom they suspected of being ill-disposed towards them ; but
on arriving in front of the bishop's allies, " all this rustic mul
titude," says the canon-chronicler, " terror-stricken at the bare
names of the knights they found assembled, took suddenly to
flight, and a great number of the burghers were massacred
before reaching their city." Louis the Young then took the
field to help them; but Baldwin, count of Hainault, went to the
aid of the bishop of Laon with seven hundred knights and
several thousand infantry. King Louis, after having occupied
and for some time held in sequestration the lands of the
bishop, thought it advisable to make peace rather than con
tinue so troublesome a war, and at the intercession of the pope
and the count of Hainault he restored to Roger de Rosoy hie
lands and his bishopric on condition of living in peace with
the commune. And so long as Louis VII. lived, the bishop

OH. xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. 27

did refrain from attacking the liberties of the burghers of
Laon; but at the king's death, in 1180, he applied to his succes
sor, Philip Augustus, and offered to cede to him the lordship
of Fere-sur-Oise, of which he was the possessor, provided that
Philip by charter abolished the commune of Laon. Philip
yielded to the temptation, and in 1190 published an ordinance
to the following purport: "Desiring to avoid for our soul
every sort of danger, we do entirely quash the commune
established in the town of Laon as being contrary to the rights
and liberties of the metropolitan church of St. Mary, in regard
for justice and for the sake of a happy issue to the pilgrimage
which we be bound to make to Jerusalem." But next year
upon entreaty and offers from the burghers of Laon Philip
changed his mind, and without giving back the lordship
of Fere-sur-Oise to the bishop, guaranteed and confirmed in
perpetuity the peace-establishment granted in 1128 to the town
Laon uon the condition that every year at the feast of All
Saints' they shall pay to us and our successors two hundred
livres of Paris. " For a century all strife of any consequence
ceased between the burghers of Laon and their bishop ; there
was no real accord or good understanding between them, but
the public peace was not troubled, and neither the kings of
France nor the great lords of the neighborhood interfered in its
affairs. In 1294 some knights and clergy of the metropolitan
chapter of Laon took to quarrelling with some burghers ; and
on both sides they came to deeds of violence, which caused
sanguinary struggles in the streets of the town and even in the
precincts of the episcopal palace. The bishop and his chapter
applied to the pope, Boniface VIII., who applied to the king,
Philip the Handsome, to put an end to these scandalous dis
turbances. Philip the Handsome, in his turn, applied to the
Parliament of Paris, which, after inquiry, "deprived the town
of Laon of every right of commune and college, under what
soever name." The king did not like to execute this decree in
all its rigor. He granted the burghers of Laon a charter
which maintained them provisionally in the enjoyment of their
political peace rights but with this destructive clause: "Said
commune and said shrievalty shall be in force only so far as it
shall be our pleasure." For nearly thirty years, from Philip
the Handsome to Philip of Valois, the bishops and burghers of
Laon were in litigation before the crown of France, the former
for the maintenance of the commune of Laon in its precarious
condition and at the king's good pleasure, the latter for the

28 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xix.

recovery of its independent and durable character. At last,
in 1331, Philip of Valois, u considering that the olden commune
of Laon, by reason of certain misdeeds and excesses, notorious,
enormous, and detestable, had been removed and put down
forever by decree of the court of our most dear lord and uncle
King Philip the Handsome, confirmed and approved by our
most dear lords, Kings Philip and Charles, whose souls are
with God, we, on great deliberation of our council, have
ordained that no commune, corporation, college, shrievalty,
mayor, jurymen or any other estate or symbol belonging
thereto be at any time set up or established at Laon." By
the same ordinance the municipal administration of Laon
was put under the sole authority of the king and his delegates ;
and to blot out all remembrance of the olden independence of
the commune a later ordinance forbade that the tower from
which the two huge communal bells had been removed should
thenceforth be called belfry-tower.

The history of the commune of Laon is that of the majority
of the towns which in northern and central France struggled
from the eleventh to the fourteenth century to release them
selves from feudal oppression and violence. Cambrai, Beau-
vais, Amiens, Soissons, Eheims, Vezelay, and several other
towns displayed at this period a great deal of energy and
perseverance in bringing their lords to recognize the most
natural and the most necessary rights of every human crea
ture and community. But within their walls dissensions were
carried to extremity, and existence was ceaselessly tempestuous
and troublous ; the burghers were hasty, brutal, and barbaric,
as barbaric as the lords against whom they were defending
their liberties. Amongst those mayors, sheriffs, jurats, and
magistrates of different degrees and with different titles, set
up in the communes, many came before very long to exercise
dominion arbitrarily, violently, and in their own personal
interests. The lower orders were in an habitual state of
jealousy and sedition of a ruffianly kind towards the rich, the
heads of the labor-market, the controllers of capital and of
work. This reciprocal violence, this anarchy, these internal
evils and dangers with their incessant renewals, called inces
santly for intervention from without ; and when, after releas
ing themselves from oppression and iniquity coming from
above, the burghers fell a prey to pillage and massacre coming
from below, they sought for a fresh protector to save them
from this fresh evil. Hence that frequent recourse to the

CH. xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. 29

king, the great suzerain whose authority could keep down the
bad magistrates of the commune or reduce the mob to order;
and hence also, before long, the progressive downfall, or, at
any rate, the utter enfeeblement of those communal liberties
so painfully won. France was at that stage of existence and
of civilization at which security can hardly be purchased
save at the price of liberty. We have a phenomenon peculiar
to modern times in the provident and persistent effort to
reconcile security with liberty, and the bold development cf
individual powers with the regular maintenance of public
order. This admirable solution of the social problem, still so
imperfect and unstable in our time, was unknown in the mid
dle ages; liberty was then so stormy and so fearful that people
conceived before long if not a disgust for it, at any rate a
horror of it, and sought at any price^ a political regimen
which would give them some security, the essential aim of the
social estate. When we arrive at the end of the thirteenth
and the beginning of the fourteenth century we see a host
of communes falling into decay or entirely disappearing; they
cease really to belong to and govern themselves; some, like
Laon, Cambrai, Beauvais, and Rheims, fought a long while
against decline, and tried more than once to re-establish them
selves in all their independence ; but they could not do with
out the king's support in their resistance to their lords, laic
or ecclesiastical; and they were not in a condition to resist
the kingship which had grown whilst they were perishing.
Others, Meulan and Soissons for example (in 1320 and 1335),
perceived their weakness early, and thems-xves requested the
kingship to deliver them from their communal organization
and itself assume their administration. And so it is about
this period, under St. Louis and Philip the Handsome, that
there appear in the collections of acts of the French king
ship, those great ordinances which regulate the administration
of all communes within the kingly domains. Hitherto the
kings had ordinarily dealt with each town severally ; and as
the majority were almost independent or invested with privi
leges of different kinds and carefully respected, neither the
king nor any great suzerain dreamed of prescribing general
rules for communal regimen nor of administering after a uni
form fashion all the communes in their domains. It was
under St. Louis and Philip the Handsome that general regula
tions on this subject began. The French communes were as*
sociations too small and too weak to suffice for self-mainte*

30 BISTORT OF FRANCS. [CH. xrs,

nance and self-government amidst the disturbances of the
great Christian community ; and they were too numerous and
too little enlightened to organize themselves into one vast con
federation capable of giving them a central government. The
communal liberties were not in a condition to found in France
a great republican community; to the kingship appertained
the power and fell the honor of presiding over the formation
and the fortunes of the French nation.

But the kingship did not alone accomplish this great work.
At the very time that the communes were perishing and the
kingship was growing, a new power, a new social element, the
Third Estate, was springing up in France; and it was called to
take a far more important place in the history of France, and
to exercise far more influence upon the fate of the French father
land, than it had been granted to the communes to acquire
during their short and incoherent existence.

It may astonish many who study the records of French his
tory from the eleventh to the fourteenth century, not to find
any where the words third estate ; and a desire may arise to
know whether those inquirers of our day who have devoted
themselves professedly to this particular study, have been
more successful in discovering that grand term at the time
when it seems that we ought to expect to meet with it. The
question was, therefore, submitted to a learned member of
the Academie des Inscriptions et Belles-lettres, M. Littre in
fact, whose Dictionnaire 6tymologique de la Langue Frangaise
is consulted with respect by the whole literary world, and to
a young magistrate, M. Picot, to whom the Academie des
Sciences morales et politiques but lately assigned the first prize
for his great work on the question it had propounded, as to the
history and influence of States-general in France ; and here
are inserted, textue Jly , the answers given by two gentlemen
of so much enlightenment and authority upon such a subject.

M. Littre, writing on the 3d of October, 1871, says, "I do
not find, in my account of the word, third-estate before the
sixteenth century. I quote these two instances of it: 'As to
the third order called third estate . . .' (La Noue, Discours,
p. 541) ; and ' clerks and deputies for the third estate, same
for the estate of labor (laborers) ' (Coustumier general, t. i.
p. 335). In the fifteenth century or at the end of the foup
teenth, in the poems of Eustace Deschamps, I have—

• Prince, dost thou yearn for good old times again?
In good old ways the Three Estates restrain.*

ca xix,] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATB. 31

"At date of fourteenth century, in Du Cange, we read
under the word status: 'Per tres status concilii generalis
Prcelatorum, Baronum, nobilium et universitatum comitatum.9
According to these documents I think it is in the fourteenth
century that they began to call the three orders tres statust
and that it was only in the sixteenth century that they be
gan to speak in French of the tiers estat (third estate). But
I cannot give this conclusion as final, seeing that it is sup
ported only by the documents I consulted for my diction*
an/."

M. Picot replied on the 3d of October, 1871, "It is certain
that acts contemporary with King John, frequently speak of
the * three states,' but do not utter the word tiers-Mat (third
estate). The great chronicles and Froissart say nearly always,
1 the church-men, the nobles, and the good towns.' The royal
ordinances employ the same terms ; but sometimes, in ordei
not to limit their enumeration to the deputies of closed cities,
they add, the good towns, and the open country (Ord. t. iii. p,
221, note). When they apply to the provincial estates of th*.
Oil tongue it is the custom to say, the burghers and inhabi*
tants ; when it is a question of the Estates of Languedoc, the
commonalties of the seneschalty, Such were in the middle of
the fourteenth century the only expressions for designating
the third order.

" Under Louis XI., Juvenal des Ursins, in his harangue, ad
dresses the deputies of the third order by the title of burghers
and inhabitants of the good towns. At the States of Tours, the
spokesman of the estates, John de Rely, says, the people of the
common estate, the estate of the people. The special memorial
presented to Charles VIII. by the three orders of Languedoc
likewise uses the word people.

"It is in Masselin's report and the memorial of grievances
presented in 1485 that I meet for the first time with the ex
pression third estate (tiers-etat). Masselin says, * It was de
cided that each section should furnish six commissioners, two
ecclesiastics, two noblies, and two of the third estate (duos
ecclesiasticos, duos nobles, et duo* tertii status* (Documents
in£dits sur VHistoire de France ; proces-verbal de Masselin, p.
76). The commencement of the chapter headed Of the Com-
mons (du commun) is: * For the third and common estate the
said folks do represent . . .' and a few lines lower, compar
ing the kingdom with the human body, the compilers of the
memorial say, ' The members are the clergy, the nobles, and

82 BISTORT OF FRANCE. fen. xn;

the folks of the third estate* (Ibid, after the report ofMasselin,
memorial of grievances, p. 669).

"Thus, at the end of the fifteenth century, the expression
third estate was constantly employed; but is it not of older
date? There are words which spring so from the nature of
things that they ought to be contemporaneous with the ideas
they express ; their appearance in language is inevitable and is
scarcely noticed there. On the day when the deputies of the
communes entered an assembly and seated themselves beside
the first two orders, the new comer, by virtue of the situa
tion and rank occupied, took the name of third order; and
as our fathers used to speak of the third denier (tiers denier),
and the third day (tierce jour ne'e), so they must have spoken of
the (tiers-etat) third estate. It was only at the end of the
fifteenth century that the expression became common; but I
am inclined to believe that it existed in the beginning of the
fourteenth.

"For an instant I had imagined, in the course of my re
searches, that, under King John, the ordinances had designa
ted the good towns by the name of third estate. I very soon
saw my mistake ; but you will see how near I found myself to
the expression of which we are seeking the origin. Four
times, in the great ordinance of December, 1335, the deputies
Wrest from the king a promise that in the next assemblies the
resolutions shall be taken according to the unanimity of the
orders ' without two estates, if they be of one accord, being
able to bind the third.* At first sight it might be supposed that
the deputies of the towns had an understanding to secure
themselves from the dangers of common action on the part of
the clergy and noblesse, but a more attentive examination
made me fly back to a more correct opinion : it is certain that
the three orders had combined for mutual protection against
an alliance of any two of them. Besides, the States of 1576 saw
how the clergy readopted to their profit, against the two laic
orders, the proposition voted in 1355. It is beyond a doubt
that this doctrine served to keep the majority from oppressing
the minority whatever may have been its name. Only, in
point of fact, it was most frequently the third estate that must
have profited by the regulation.

"In brief, we may, before the fifteenth century, make
suppositions, but they are no more than mere conjectures. It
was at the great States of Tours, in 1468, that, for the first
time, the third order bore the name which has been given to
it by history."

OH. xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. 33

The fact was far before its name. Had the third estate
bean centred entirely in the communes at strife with their
lords ; had the fate of burgherdom in France depended on the
communal liberties won in that strife, we should see, at the
end of the thirteenth century, that element of French society
in a state of feebleness and decay. But it was far otherwise.
The third estate drew its origin and nourishment from all sorts
of sources ; and whilst one was within an ace of drying up, the
others remained abundant and fruitful. Independently of the
commune properly so called and invested with the right of
self-government, many towns had privileges, serviceable
though limited franchises, and under the administration of the
king's officers they grew in population and wealth. These
towns did not share, towards the end of the thirteenth century,
in the decay of the once warlike and victorious communes.
Local political liberty was to seek in them ; the spirit of inde
pendence and resistance did not prevail in them; but we see
growing up in them another spirit which has played a grand
part in French history, a spirit of little or no ambition, of little
or no enterprise, timid even and scarcely dreaming of actual
resistance, but honorable, inclined to order, persevering, at
tached to its traditional franchises and quite able to make
them respected sooner or later. It was especially in the towns
administered in the king's name and by his provosts that
there was a development of this spirit which has long been the
predominant characteristic of French burgherdom. It must
not be supposed that, in the absence of real communal inde
pendence, these towns lacked all internal security. The king
ship was ever fearful lest its local officers should render them
selves independent, and remembered what had become in the
ninth century of the crown's offices, the duchies and the
countships, and of the difficulty it had at that time to recover
the scattered remnants of the old imperial authority. And so
the Capetian kings with any intelligence, such as Louis VI.,
Philip Augustus, St. Louis, and Philip the Handsome, were
careful to keep a hand over their provosts, sergeants, and
officers of all kinds, in order that their power should not grow
BO great as to become formidable. At this time, besides, Par
liament and the whole judicial system was beginning to take
form; and many questions relating to the administration of
the towns, many disputes between the provosts and burghers
were carried before the Parliament of Paris and there decided
with more independence and equity than they would have

84 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. ra.

been by any other power. A certain measure of impartiality
is inherent in judicial power; the habit of delivering judgment
according to written texts, of applying laws to facts, produces
a natural and almost instinctive respect for old-acquired
rights. In Parliament the towns often obtained justice and
the maintenance of their franchises against the officers of the
king. The collection of kingly ordinances at this time abounds
with instances of the kind. These judges, besides, these bail
iffs, these provosts, these seneschals, and all these officers of
the king or of the great suzerains, formed before long a nume
rous and powerful class. Now the majority amongst them
were burghers, and their number and their power were turned
to the advantage of burgherdom and led day by day to its
further extension and importance. Of all the original sources
of the third estate this it is, perhaps, which has contributed
most to bring about the social preponderance of that order.
Just when burgherdom, but lately formed, was losing in many
of the communes a portion of its local liberties, at that same
moment it was seizing by the hand of Parliaments, provosts,
judges, and administrators of all kinds, a large share of central
power. It was through burghers admitted into the king's ser
vice and acting as administrators or judges in his name that
communal independence and charters were often attacked and
abolished; but at the same time they fortified and elevated
burgherdom, they caused it to acquire from day to day more
wealth, more credit, more importance and power in the in
ternal and external affairs of the* State.

Philip the Handsome, that ambitious and despotic prince,
was under no delusion when in 1302, 1308 and 1314, on con
voking the first states-general of France,, he summoned thither
" the deputies of the good towns." He did not yet give them
the name of third estate ; but he was perfectly aware that he
was thus summoning to his aid against Boniface VIII. and the
Templars and the Flemings a class already invested through
out the country with great influence and ready to lend him
efficient support. His son, Philip the Long, was under no de
lusion when in 1317 and 1321 he summoned to the states-gene
ral "the commonalties and good towns of the kingdom" to
decide upon the interpretation of the Salic law as to the suc
cession to the throne, " or to advise as to the means of estab
lishing a uniformity of coins, weights, and measures ;" he was
perfectly aware that the authority of burgherdom would be of
great assistance to him in the accomplishment of acts s* grave,

CH, xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. 35

And the three estates played the prelude to the formation,
painful and slow as it was, of constitutional monarchy when,
in 1338, under Philip of Valois, they declared, "in presence of
the said king, Philip of Valois, who assented thereto, that there
should be no power to impose or levy talliage in France if
urgent necessity or evident utility did not require it, and then
only by grant of the people of the estates."

In order to properly understand the French third estate and
its importance more is required than to look on at its birth ; a
glance must be taken at its grand destiny and the results at
which it at last arrived. Let us, therefore, anticipate cen
turies and get a glimpse, now at once, of that upon which the
course of events from the fourteenth to the nineteenth century
will shed full light.

Taking the history of France in its entirety and under all its
phases, the third estate has been the most active and deter
mining element in the process of French civilization. If we
follow it in its relation with the general government of the
country we see it at first allied for six centuries to the king
ship, struggling without cessation against the feudal aristo
cracy and giving predominance in place thereof to a single
central power, pure monarchy, closely bordering, though with
some frequently repeated but rather useless reservations, on
absolute monarchy. But, so soon as it had gained this victory
and brought about this revolution, the third estate went in
pursuit of a new one, attacking that single power to the found
ation of which it had contributed so much and entering upon
the task of changing pure monarchy into constitutional mon
archy. Under whatever aspect we regard it during these two
great enterprises so different one from the other, whether we
study the progressive formation of French society or that of
its government, the third estate is the most powerful and the
most persistent of the forces which have influenced French
civilization.

This fact is unique in the history of the world. We recog
nize in the career of the chief nations of Asia and ancient Eu
rope nearly all the great facts which have agitated France ;
we meet in them mixture of different races, conquest of people
by people, immense inequality between classes, frequent
changes in the forms of government and extent of public
power ; but nowhere is there any appearance of a class which,
starting from the very lowest, from being feeble, despised, and
almost imperceptible at its origin, rises by perpetual motion

36 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH.

and by labor without respite, strengthens itself from period to
period, acquires in succession whatever it lacked, wealth, en
lightenment, influence, changes the face of society and the
nature of government, and arrives at last at such a pitch of
predominance that it may be said to be absolutely the country.
More than once in the world's history the external semblances
of such and such a society have been the same as those which
have just been reviewed here, but it is mere semblance. In
India, for example, foreign invasions and the influx and estab
lishment of different races upon the same soil have occurred
over and over again; but with what result? The permanence
of caste has not been touched ; and society has kept its divi
sions into distinct and almost changeless classes. After India
take China. There too history exhibits conquests similar to
the conquest of Europe by the Germans •, and there too, more
than once, the barbaric conquerors settled amidst a population
of the conquered. What was the result? The conquered all
but absorbed the conquerors and changelessness was still the
predominant characteristic of the social condition. In West
ern Asia, after the invasions of the Turks, the separation be
tween victors and vanquished remained insurmountable; no
ferment in the heart of society, no historical event could efface
this first effect of conquest. In Persia, similar events suc
ceeded one another ; different races fought and intermingled ;
and the end was irremediable social anarchy which has en
dured for ages without any change in the social condition of
the country, without a shadow of any development of civiliza
tion.

So much for Asia. Let us pass to the Europe of the Greeks
and Romans. At the first blush we seem to recognize some
analogy between the progress of these brilliant societies and
that of French society; but the analogy is only apparent;
there is, once more, nothing resembling the fact and the his
tory of the French third estate. One thing only has struck
sound judgments as being somewhat like the struggle of
burgherdom in the middle ages against the feudal aristocracy,
and that is the struggle between the plebeians and patricians
at Rome. They have often been compared ; but it is a baseless
comparison. The struggle between the plebeians and patri
cians commenced from the very cradle ef the Roman republic ;
it was not, as happened in the France of the middle ages, the
result of a slow, difficult, incomplete development on the part
of a class which, through a long course of great inferiority in

CH. xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. 37

strength, wealth, and credit, little by little extended itself and
raised itself, and ended by engaging in a real contest with the
superior class. It is now acknowledged that the struggle at
Rome between the plebeians and patricians was a sequel and a
prolongation of the war of conquest, was an effort on the part
of the aristocracy of the cities conquered by Rome to share the
rights of the conquering aristocracy. The families of plebeians
were the chief families of the vanquished peoples ; and though
placed by defeat in a position of inferiority, they were not any
the less aristocratic families, powerful but lately in their own
cities, encompassed by clients, and calculated from the very
first to dispute with their conquerors the possession of power.
There is nothing in all this like that slow, obscure, heart-break
ing travail of modern burgherdom escaping, full hardly, from
the midst of slavery or a condition approximating to slavery
and spending centuries not in disputing political power but in
winning its own civil existence. The more closely the French
third estate is examined the more it is recognized as a new fact
in the world's history appertaining exclusively to the civiliza
tion of modern, Christian Europe.

Not only is the fact new, but it has for France an entirely
special interest, since, to employ an expression much abused
in the present day, it is a fact eminently French, essentially
national. Nowhere has burgherdom had so wide and so pro
ductive a career as that whieh fell to its lot in France. There
have been communes in the whole of Europe, in Italy, Spain,
Germany, and England, as well as in France. Not only have
there been communes every where, but the communes of
France are not those which, as communes, under that name
and in the middle ages, have played the chiefest part and taken
the highest place in history. The Italian communes were the
parents of glorious republics. The German communes be
came free and sovereign towns, which had their own special
history and exercised a great deal of influence upon the gene
ral history of Germany. The communes of England made
alliance with a portion of the English feudal aristocracy, formed
with it the preponderating house in the British government,
and thus played, full early, a mighty part in the history of
their country. Far were the French communes, under that
name and in their day of special activity, from rising to such
political importance and to such historical rank. And yet it is
in France that the people of the communes, the burgherdom,
reached the most complete and most powerful development*

38 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xix.

and ended by acquiring the most decided preponderance in the
general social structure. There have been communes, we say,
throughout Europe ; but there has not really been a victorious
third estate any where, save in France. The revolution of
1789, the greatest ever seen, was the culminating point arrived
at by the third estate ; and France is the only country in which
a man of large mind could, in a burst of burgher's pride, ex
claim, "What is the third estate? Every thing."

Since the explosion, and after all the changes, liberal and
illiberal, due to the revolution of 1789, there has been a com
mon-place ceaselessly repeated, to the effect that there are no
more classes in French society, there is only a nation of thirty-
seven millions of persons. If it be meant that there are now
no more privileges in France, no special laws and private
rights for such and such families, proprietorships, and occu
pations, and that legislation is the same and there is perfect
freedom of movement for all at all steps of the social ladder,
it is true : oneness of laws and similarity of rights, is now the
essential and characteristic fact of civil society in France, an
immense, an excellent, and a novel fact in the history of
human associations. But beneath the dominance of this fact,
in the midst of this national unity and this civil equality, there
evidently and necessarily exist numerous and important diver
sities and inequalities, which oneness of laws and similarity
of rights neither prevent nor destroy. In point of property
real or personal, land or capital, there are rich and poor ; there
are the large, the middling, and the small property. Though
the great proprietors may be less numerous and less rich, and
the middling and the small proprietors more numerous and
more powerful than they were of yore, this does not prevent
the difference from being real and great enough to create in
the civil body social positions widely different and unequal.
In the professions which are called liberal, and which live by
brains and knowledge, amongst barristers, doctors, scholars,
and literates of all kinds, some rise to the first rank, attract to
themselves practice and success, and win fame, wealth, and
influence ; others make enough by hard work for the necessi
ties of their families, and the calls of their position; others
vegetate obscurely in a sort of lazy discomfort. In the other
vocations, those in which the labor is principally physical
and manual, there also it is according to nature that there
should be different and unequal positions ; some by brains and
good conduct make capital and get a footing upon the ways of

CH. xix.] THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE. 39

competence and progress; others, being dull, or idle, or dis
orderly, remain in the straitened and precarious condition of
existence depending solely on wages. Throughout the whole
extent of the social structure, in the ranks of labor as well as
of property, differences and inequalities of position are pro
duced or kept up and coexist with oneness of laws and simi
larity of rights. Examine any human associations in any
place and at any time ; and whatever diversity there may be
in point of their origin, organization, government, extent, and
duration, there will be found in all three types of social posi
tion always fundamentally the same, though they may appear
under different and differently distributed forms; 1st, men
living on income from their properties real or personal, land
or capital, without seeking to increase them by their own per
sonal and assiduous labor ; 3d, men devoted to working up and
increasing by their own personal and assiduous labor the real
or personal properties, land or capital they possess; 3d, men
living by their daily labor, without land or capital to give
them an income. And these differences, these inequalities in
the social position of men are not matters of accident or vio
lence, or peculiar to such and such a time or such and such a
country ; they are matters of universal application, produced
spontaneously in every human society by virtue of the primi
tive and general laws of human nature, in the midst of events
and under the influence of social systems utterly different.

These matters exist now and in France as they did of old
and elsewhere. Whether you do or do not use the name of
classes, the new French social fabric contains and will not
cease to contain social positions widely different and unequal.
What constitutes its blessing and its glory is that privilege
and fixity no longer cling to this difference of positions ; that
there are no more special rights and advantages legally as
signed to some and inaccessible to others ; that all roads are
free and open to all to rise to every thing; that personal merit
and toil have an infinitely greater share than was ever for
merly allowed to them in the fortunes of men. The third
estate of the old regimen exists no more ; it disappeared in its
victory over privilege and absolute power ; it has for heirs the
middle classes as they are now called ; but these classes, whilst
inheriting the conquests of the old third estate, hold them on
new conditions also, as legitimate as binding. To secure their
own interests as well as to discharge their public duty they
are bound to be at once conservative and liberal ; they must,

40 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xix.

on the one hand, enlist and rally beneath their flag the old,
once privileged, superiorities which have survived the fall of
the old regimen, and, on the other hand, fully recognize the
continual upward movement which is fermenting in the whole
body of the nation. That in its relations with the aristocratic
classes the third estate of the old regimen should have been
and for a long time remained uneasy, disposed to take um
brage, jealous and even envious, is no more than natural ; it
had its rights to urge and its conquests to gain : now-a-days
its conquests have been won, the rights are recognized, pro
claimed, and exercised, the middle classes have no longer any
legitimate ground for uneasiness or envy, they can rest with
full confidence in their own dignity and their own strength,
they have undergone all the necessary trials and passed all
the necessary tests. In respect of the lower orders and the
democracy properly so called, the position of the middle classes
is no less favorable ; they have no fixed line of separation ; for
who can say where the middle classes begin and where they
end? In the name of the principles of common rights and
general liberty they were formed ; and by the working of the
same principles they are being constantly recruited, and are
incessantly drawing new vigor from the sources whence they
sprang. To maintain common rights and free movement up
wards against the retrograde tendencies of privilege and ab
solute power on the one hand and on the other against the
insensate and destructive pretensions of levellers and anar
chists is now the double business of the middle classes ; and it
is at the same time, for themselves, the sure way of preserving
preponderance in the State, in the name of general interests
of which those classes are the most real and most efficient rep
resentatives.

On reaching in our history the period at which Philip the
Handsome by giving admission amongst the states-general to
the " burghers of the good towns" substituted the third estate
for the communes and the united action of the three great
classes of Frenchmen for their local struggles, we did well to
halt awhile in order clearly to mark the position and part of
the new actor in the great drama of national hie. We will
now return to the real business of the drama, that is, to the
history of France, which became in the fourteenth century
more complex, more tragic, and more grand than it had ever
yet been.

en. xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 41

CHAPTER XX.

THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.— PHILIP VI. AND JOHN n.

WE have just been spectators at the labor of formation of
the French kingship and the French nation. We have seen
monarchical unity and national unity rising little by little out
of and above the feudal system, which had been the first result
of barbarians settling upon the ruins of the Roman empire.
In the fourteenth century a new and a vital question arose :
Will the French dominion preserve its nationality? Will the
kingship remain French or pass to the foreigner? This ques
tion brought ravages upon France and kept her fortunes in
suspense for a hundred years of war with England, from the
reign of Philip of Valois to that of Charles VII. ; and a young
girl of Lorraine, called Joan of Arc, had the glory of com
municating to France that decisive impulse which brought to
a triumphant issue the independence of the French nation and
kingship.

As we have seen in the preceding chapter, the elevation of
Philip of Valois to the throne, as representative of the male
line amongst the descendants of Hugh Capet, took place by
virtue not of any old written law, but of a traditional right
recognized and confirmed by two recent resolutions taken at
the death of the two eldest sons of Philip the Handsome. The
right thus promulgated became at once a fact accepted by the
whole of France; Philip of Valois had for rival none but a
foreign prince, and "there was no mind in France," say con
temporary chroniclers, " to be subjects of the king of England."
Some weeks after his accession, on the 29th of May, 1328,
Philip was crowned at Rheims, in presence of a brilliant
assemblage of princes and lords, French and foreign ; and next
year, on the 6th of June, Edward III., king of England, being
summoned to fulfil a vassal's duties by doing homage to the
king of France for the duchy of Aquitaine, which he held,
appeared in the cathedral of Amiens, with his crown on his
head, his sword at his side, and his gilded spurs on his heels.
When he drew near to the throne, the Viscount de Melun,
king's chamberlain, invited him to lay aside his crown, his
sword, and his spurs, and go down on his knees before Philip.

42 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xx.

Not without a murmur, Edward obeyed ; but when the cham
berlain said to him, ' ' Sir, you, as duke of Aquitaine, became
liegeman of my lord the king who is here, and do promise to
keep towards him faith and loyalty," Edward protested saying
that he owed only simple homage and not liege-homage, a
doser bond imposing on the vassal more stringent obligations
[to serve and defend his suzerain against every enemy what
soever]. ' ' Cousin, " said Philip to him, ' ' we would not deceive
you, and what you have now done contenteth us well until
you have returned to your own country, and seen from the
acts of your predecessors what you ought to do. " * ' Gramercy,
dear sir," answered the king of England; and with tne reser
vation he had just made, and which was added to the formula
of homage, he placed his hands between the hands of. the king
of France, who kissed him on the mouth and accepted his
homage, confiding in Edward's promise to certify himself by
reference to the archives of England of the extent to which his
ancestors had been bound. The certification took place, and
on the 30th of March, 1331, about two years after his visit to
Amiens, Edward III. recognized, by letters express, ' ' that the
said homage which we did at Amiens to the king of France in
general terms, is and must be understood as liege; and that
we are bound, as duke of Aquitaine and peer of France, to
show him faith and loyalty."

The relations between the two kings were not destined to be
for long so courteous and so pacific. Even before the question
of the succession to the throne of France arose between them
they had adopted contrary policies. When Philip was crowned
at Rheims, Louis de Nevers, count of Flanders, repaired
thither with a following of eighty-six knights, and he it was to
whom the right belonged of carrying the sword of the king
dom. The heralds- at-arms repeated three times, "Count of
Flanders, if you are here, come and do your duty." He made
no answer. The king was astounded, and bade him explain
himself. " My lord," answered the count, " may it please you
not to be astounded; they called the count of Flanders, and
not Louis de Nevers." "What then!" replied the king: "are
you not the count of Flanders?" " It is true, sir," rejoined the
other, "that I bear the name, but I do not possess the author
ity; the burghers of Bruges, Ypres, and Cassel have driven
me from my land, and there scarce remains but the town of
Ghent where I dare show myself." "Fair cousin," said
Philip, "we will swear to you by the holy oil which hath this

CH. xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 43

day trickled over our brow that we will not enter Paris again
before seeing you reinstated in peaceable possession of the
countship of Flanders." Some of the French barons who
happened to be present represented to the king that the
Flemish burghers were powerful, that autumn was a bad
season for a war in their country ; and that Louis the Quar-
reller, in 1315, had been obliged to come to a stand-still in a
similar expedition. Philip consulted his constable, Walter de
Chatillon, who had served the kings his predecessors in their
wars against Flanders. "Whoso hath good stomach for
fight," answered the constable, "findeth all times seasonable."
"Well then," said the king, embracing him, "whoso loveth
me will follow me. " The war thus resolved upon was forth
with begun. Philip, on arriving with his army before Cassel,
found the place defended by 16,000 Flemings under the
command of Nicholas Zannequin, the richest of the burghers
of Fumes, and already renowned for his zeal in the insurrec
tion against the count. For several days the French remained
inactive around the mountain on which Cassel is built, and
which the knights mounted on iron-clad horses were unable to
scale. The Flemings had planted on a tower of Cassel a flag
carrying a cock, with this inscription :

" When the cock that is hereon shall crow,
The foundling king herein shall go."

They called Philip the foundling king because he had no
business to expect to be king. Philip in his wrath gave up to
fire and pillage the outskirts of the place. The Flemings
marshalled at the top of the mountain made no movement.
On the 24th of August, 1328, about three in the afternoon, the
French knights had disarmed. Some were playing at chess ;
others " strolled from tent to tent in their fine robes, in search
of amusement;" and the king was asleep in his tent after a
long carouse, when all on a sudden his confessor, a Dominican
friar, shouted out that the Flemings were attacking the camp.
Zannequin, indeed, "came out full softly and without a bit of
noise," says Froissart, with his troops in three divisions, to
surprise the French camp at three points. He was quite close
to the king's tent, and some chroniclers say that he was already
lifting his mace over the head of Philip, who had armed in hot
haste, and was defended only by a few knights, of whom one
was waving the oriflamme round him, when others hurried
up, and Zannequin was forced to stay his hand. At two othef

44 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xx.

points of the camp the attack had failed. The French gathered
about the king and the Flemings about Zannequin; and there
took place so stubborn a fight, that "of sixteen thousand
Flemings who were there not one recoiled," says Froissart,
"and all were left there dead and slain in three heaps one
upon another, without budging from the spot where the battle
had begun." The same evening Philip entered Cassel, which
he set on fire, and, in a few days afterwards, on leaving for
France, he said to Count Louis, before the French barons,
"Count, I have worked for you at my own and my barons'
expense ; I give you back your land, recovered and in peace ;
so take care that justice be kept up in it and that I have not,
through your fault, to return ; for, if I do, it will be to my own
profit and to your hurt."

The count of Flanders was far from following the advice of
the king of France, and the king of France was far from fore
seeing whither he would be led by the road upon which he had
just set foot. It has already been pointed out to what a posi
tion of wealth, population, and power, industrial and commer
cial activity had in the thirteenth century raised the towns of
Flanders, Bruges, Ghent, Lille, Ypres, Furnes, Courtrai, and
Douai, and with what energy they had defended against their
lords their prosperity and their liberties. It was the struggle,
sometimes sullen, sometimes violent, of feudal lordship against
municipal burgherdom. The able and imperious Philip the
Handsome had tested the strength of the Flemish cities, and
had not cared to push them to extremity. When in 1322,
Count Louis de Nevers, scarcely eighteen years of age, inher
ited from his grandfather Robert III. the countship of Flan
ders, he gave himself up, in respect of the majority of towns
in the countship, to the same course of oppression and injus
tice as had been familiar to his predecessors ; the burghers re
sisted him with the same, often ruffianly, energy ; and when,
after a six years' struggle amongst Flemings, the count of
Flanders, who had been conquered by the burghers, owed his
return as master of his countship to the king of the French, he
troubled himself about nothing but avenging himself and en
joying his victory at the expense of the vanquished. He chas
tised, despoiled, proscribed, and inflicted atrocious punishments;
and, not content with striking at individuals, he attacked the
cities themselves. Nearly all of them, save Ghent, which had
been favorable to the Count, saw their privileges annulled or
curtailed of their most essential guarantees. The burghers of

CH. xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARff WAH. 45

Bruges were obliged to meet the oount half way to his castle
of Male and on their knees implore his pity. At Ypres the bell
in the tower was broken up. Philip of Valois made himself a
partner in these severitie:;; he ordered the fortifications of
Bruges, Ypres, and Courtrai to be destroyed, and he charged
French agents to see to their demolition. Absolute power is
often led into mistakes by its insolence • but when it is in the
hands of rash and reckless mediocrity there is no knowing
how clumsy and blind it can be. Neither the king of France
nor the count of Flanders seemed to remember that the Flem
ish communes had at their door a natural and powerful ally
who could not do without them any more than they could do
without him. Woollen stuffs, cloths, carpets, warm coverings
of every sort were the chief articles of the manufactures and
commerce of Flanders; there chiefly was to be found all that
the active and enterprising merchants of the time exported to
Sweden, Norway, Hungary, Russia, and even Asia; and it was
from England that they chiefly imported their wool, the pri
mary staple of their handiwork. " All Flanders," says Frois-
sart, "was based upon cloth; and no wool, no cloth." On
the other hand it was to Flanders that Eugiand, her land
owners and farmers, sold the fleeces of their flocks; and the
two countries were thus united by the bond of their mutual
prosperity. The count of Flanders forgot or defied this fact
so far as in 1336, at the instigation, it is said, of the king of
France, to have all the English in Flanders arrested and kept
in prison. Reprisals were not long deferred. On the 5th of
October in the same year the king of England ordered the ar
rest of all Flemish merchants in his kingdom and the seizure
of their goods ; and he at the same time prohibited the expor
tation of wool. * ' Flanders was given over, " says her principal
historian, "to desolation; nearly all her looms ceased rattling
on one and the same day, and the streets of her cities, but
lately filled with rich and busy workmen, were overrun with
beggars who asked in vain for work to escape from misery and
hunger." The English landowners and farmers did not suffer
so much ftut were scarcely less angered ; only it was to the
king of France and the count of Flanders rather than their
own king that they held themselves indebted for the stagna
tion of their affairs, and their discontent sought vent only in
execration of the foreigner.

When great national interests are to such a point miscon
ceived and injured, there crop up, before long, clearsighted and

46 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xx

bold men who undertake the championship of them, and
foment the quarrel to explosion-heat, either from personal
views or patriotic feeling. The question of succession to the
throne of France seemed settled by the inaction of the king of
England, and the formal homage he had come and paid to the
king of France at Amiens ; but it was merely in abeyance. Many
people both in England and in France still thought of it and
spoke of it; and many intrigues bred of hope or fear were kept
up with reference to it at the courts of the two kings. When
the rumblings of anger were loud on both sides in consequence
of affairs in Flanders, two men of note, a Frenchman and a
Fleming, considering that the hour had come, determined to
revive the question, and turn the great struggle which could
not fail to be excited thereby to the profit of their own and
their countries' cause, for it is singular how ambition and de
votion, selfishness and patriotism combine and mingle in the
human soul, and even in great souls.

Philip VI. had embroiled himself with a prince of his line,
Robert of Artois, great-grandson of Robert the first count of
Artois, who was a brother ->f 3t. Louis, and was killed during
the crusade in Egypt, at the battle of Mansourah. As early as
the reign of Philip the Handsome Robert claimed the count-
ship of Artois as his heritage; but having had his pretensions
rejected by a decision of the peers of the kingdom, he had
hoped for more success under Philip of Valois, whose sister he
had married. Philip tried to satisfy him with another domain
raised to a peerage; but Robert, more and more discontented,
got involved in a series of intrigues, plots, falsehoods, forgeries,
and even, according io pubHc report, imprisonments and
crimes which, in 1332, led to his being condemned by the court
of peers to banishment and the confiscation of his property.
He fled for refuge first to Brabant, and then to England, to the
court of Edward III., who received him graciously, and whom
he forthwith commenced inciting to claim the crown of France,
"his inheritance," as he said, "which King Philip holds most
wrongfully." Edward HI., who was naturally prudent and
had been involved, almost ever since his accession, in a stub
born war with Scotland, cared but little for rushing into a
fresh and far more serious enterprise. But of all human pas
sions hatred is perhaps the most determined in the prosecution
of its designs. Robert accompanied the king of England in hi*
campaigns northward; and "Sir, "said he, whilst they were
marching together over the heaths of Scotland, "leave this

CH. xx.] THE HUNDRED YEARS* WAR. 47

poor country, and give your thoughts to the noble crown of
France." When Edward, on returning to London, was self-
complacently rejoicing at his successes over his neighbors, Rob
ert took pains to pique his self-respect, by expressing aston
ishment that he did not seek more practical and more brilliant
successes. Poetry sometimes reveals sentiments and processes
about which history is silent. We read in a poem of the four
teenth century, entitled The vow on the heron, "In the season
when summer is verging upon its decline, and the gay birds
are forgetting their sweet converse on the trees, now despoiled
of their verdure, Robert seeks for consolation in the pleasures
of fowling, for he cannot forget the gentle land of France, the
glorious country whence he is an exile. He carries a falcon,
which goes flying over the waters till a heron falls its prey;
then he calls two young damsels to take the bird to the
king's palace, singing the while in sweet discourse: 'Fly, fly,
ye honorless knights; give place to gallants on whom love
smiles; here is the dish for gallants who are faithful to their
mistresses. The heron is the most timid of birds, for it fears
its own shadow; it is for the heron to receive the vows of King
Edward who, though lawful king of France, dares not claim
that noble heritage.' At these words the king flushed, his heart
was wroth, and he cried aloud, 'Since coward is thrown in my
teeth, I make vow [on this heron] to the God of Paradise that
ere a single year rolls by I will defy the king of Paris.' Count
Robert hears and smiles; and low to his own heart he says,
'Now have I won : and my heron will cause a great war.' J

Robert's confidence in this tempter's work of his was well
founded, but not a little premature. Edward III. did not re
pel him; complained loudly of the assistance rendered by the
king of France to the Scots; gave an absolute refusal to
Philip's demands for the extradition of the rebel Robert, and
retorted by protesting, in his turn, against the reception ac
corded in France to David Bruce, the rival of his own favorite
Baliol for the throne of Scotland. In Aquitaine he claimed as
of his own domain some places still occupied by Philip. Philip,
on his side, neglected no chance of causing Edward embarrass
ment, and more or less overtly assisting his foes. The two
kings were profoundly distrustful one of the other, foresaw,
both of them, that they would one day come to blows, and
prepared for it by mutually working to entangle and enfeeble
one another. But neither durst as yet proclaim his wishes or
his fears, and take the initiative in those unknown events

3 VOL. 2

48 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. XT.

which war must bring about to the great peril of their people
and perhaps of themselves. From 1334 to 1337, as they con
tinued to advance toward the issue, foreseen and at the same
time deferred, of this situation, they were both of them seek
ing allies in Europe for their approaching struggle. Philip
had a notable one under his thumb, the pope at that time
settled at Avignon; and he made use of him for the purpose
of proposing a new crusade, in which Edward III. should
be called upon to join with him. If Edward complied, any
enterprise on his part against France would become impossi
ble; and if he declined, Christendom would cry fie upon him.
Two successive popes, John XXII. and Benedict XII., preached
the crusade, and offered their mediation to settle the differ
ences between the two kings; but they were unsuccessful in
both their attempts. The two kings strained every nerve to
form laic alliances. Philip did all he could to secure to him
self the fidelity of Count Louis of Flanders, whom the king of
England several times attempted, but in vain, to win over.
Philip drew into close relations with himself the kings of
Bohemia arid Navarre, the dukes of Lorraine and Burgundy,
the Count of Foix, the Genoese, the Grand Prior of the
Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, and many other lords.
The two principal neighbors of Flanders, the count of Hainault
and the duke of Brabant, received the solicitations of both
kings at one and the same time. The former had to wife Joan
of Valois, sister of the king of France, but he had married his
daughter Philippa to the king of England; and when Edward's
envoys came and asked for his support in "the great busi
ness" which their master had in view, "If the king can suc
ceed in it," said the count, "I shall be right glad. It may
well be supposed that my heart is with him, who hath my
daughter, rather than with King Philip, though I have mar
ried his sister; for he hath filched from me the hand of the
young duke of Brabant, who should have wedded my daugh
ter Isabel, and hath kept him for a daughter of his own.
So help will I my dear and beloved son the King of England
to the best of my power. But he must get far stronger aid
than mine, for Hainault is but a little place in comparison
with the kingdom of France, and England is too far off t<s
succor us." "Dear sir," said the envoys, "advise us of what
lords our master might best seek aid, and in what he might
best put his trust." "By my soul," said the count, "I could
not point to lord so powerful to aid him in this business a»

CH. xx.] THS HUNDRED TEARS' WAR 49

would be the duke of Brabant who is his cousin-german, the
duke of Gueldres who hath his sister to wife, and Sire de
Fauquemont. They are those who would have most men-at-
arms in the least time, and they are right good soldiers ; pro
vided that money be given them in proportion, for they are
lords and men who are glad of pay." Edward III. went for
powerful allies even beyond the Rhine ; he treated with Louis
V. of Bavaria, emperor of Germany ; he even had a solemn
interview with him at a diet assembled at Coblenz, and Louis
named Edward vicar imperial throughout all the empire
situated on the left bank of the Rhine, with orders to all the
princes of the Low Countries to follow and obey him, for a
space of seven years, in the field. But Louis of Bavaria was
a tottering emperor, excommunicated by the pope, and with
a formidable competitor in Frederick of Austria. When the
time for action arrived, King John of Bohemia, a zealous ally
of the French king, persuaded the emperor of Germany that
his dignity would be compromised if he were to go and join
the army of the English king, in whose pay he would appear
to have enlisted; and Louis of Bavaria withdrew from his
alliance with Edward III., sending back the subsidies he had
received from him.

Which side were the Flemings themselves to take in a con
flict of such importance and already so hot even before it had
reached bursting point? It was clearly in Flanders that each
king was likely to find his most efficient allies ; and so it was
there that they made the most strenuous applications. Ed
ward III. hastened to restore between England and the
Flemish communes the commercial relations which had been
for a while disturbed by the arrest of the traders in both
countries. He sent into Flanders, even to Ghent, ambassadors
charged to enter into negotiations with the burghers ; and one
of the most considerable amongst these burghers, Sohier of
Courtrai, who had but lately supported Count Louis in his
quarrels with the people of Bruges, loudly declared that the
alliance of the king of England was the first requirement of
Flanders, and gave apartments in his own house to one of the
English envoys. Edward proposed the establishment in
Flanders of a magazine for English wools; and he gave assur
ance to such Flemish weavers as would settle in England of
all the securities they could desire. He even offered to give
his daughter Joan in marriage to the son of the count of
Flanders. Philip, on his side, tried hard to reconcile the com"

50 HISTORY OF FRANOF [CH. xx

munes of Flanders to their count, and so make them faithful
to himself ; he let them off two years' payment of a rent due
to him of 40,000 livres of Paris per annum; he promised them
the monopoly of exporting wools from France ; he authorized
the Brugesmen to widen the moats of their city, and even to
repair its ramparts. The king of England's envoys met in
most of the Flemish cities with a favor which was real, but
intermingled with prudent reservations, and Count Louis of
Flanders remained ever closely allied with the king of France,
"for he was right French and loyal," says Froissart, "and
with good reason, for he had the king of France almost alone
to thank for restoring him to his country by force."

Whilst, by both sides, preparations were thus being made
on the Continent for war, the question which was to make it
burst forth was being decided in England. In the soul of
Edward temptation overcame indecision. As early as the
month of June, 1336, in a parliament assembled at North
ampton, he had complained of the assistance given by the
king of France to the Scots, and he had expressed a hope that
"if the French and the Scots were to join, they would at last
offer him battle, which the latter had always carefully
avoided." In September of the same year he employed similar
language in a parliament held at Nottingham, and he ob
tained therefrom subsidies for the war going on not only in
Scotland but also in Aquitaine against the French king's
lieutenants. In April and May of the following year, 1337, he
granted to Robert of Artois, his tempter for three years past,
court favors which proved his resolution to have been already
taken. On the 21st of August following he formally declared
war against the king of France, and addressed to all the
sheriffs, archbishops, and bishops of his kingdom a circular in
which he attributed the initiative to Philip; on the 26th of
August he gave his ally, the emperor of Germany, notice of
what he had just done, whilst, for the first time, insultingly
describing Philip as "setting himself up for king of France."
At last, on the 7th of October, 1337, he proclaimed himself
king of France, as his lawful inheritance, designating as
representatives and supporters of his right the duke of Bra
bant, the marquis of Juliers, the count of Hainault, and Wil
liam de Bohun, earl of Northampton. The enterprise had no
foundation in right, and seemed to have few chances of suc
cess. If the succession to the crown of France had not been
regulated beforehand by a special and positive law, Philip

OH. XX.] THE HUNDRMV YEAR& WAR. (ft

of Valois had on his side the traditional right of nearly three
centuries past and actual possession without any disputes
having arisen in France upon the subject. His title had been
expressly declared by the peers of the kingdom, sanctioned by
the Church, and recognized by Edward himself, who had
come to pay him homage. He had the general and free assent
of his people : to repeat the words of the chroniclers of the
time, "There was no mind in France to be subjects of the
king of England." Philip VI. was regarded in Europe as a
greater and more powerful sovereign than Edward III. He
had the pope settled in the midst of his kingdom ; and he often
traversed it with an array of valiant nobility whom he knew
how to support and serve on occasion as faithfully as he was
served by them. " He was highly prized and honored," says
Froissart; "for the victory he had won (at Cassel) over the
Flemings and also for the handsome service he had done his
cousin Count Louis. He did thereby abide in great pros
perity and honor, and he greatly increased the royal state;
never had there been king in France, it was said, who had
kept state like King Philip, and he provided tourneys and
jousts and diversions in great abundance." No national in
terest, no public ground was provocative of war between the
two peoples; it was a war of personal ambition like that
which in the eleventh century William the Conqueror had
carried into England. The memory of that great event was
still in the fourteenth century so fresh in France, that when
the pretensions of Edward were declared, and the struggle was
begun, an assemblage of Normans, barons and knights, or,
according to others, the Estates of Normandy themselves
came and proposed to Philip to undertake once more and at
their own expense the conquest of England, if he would put
at their head his eldest son John, their own duke. The king
received their deputation at Vincennes, on the 23rd of March,
1339, and accepted their offer. They bound themselves to
supply for the expedition 4000 men-at-arms and 20,000 foot,
whom they promised to maintain for ten weeks and even a
fortnight beyond, if, when the duke of Normandy had crossed
to England, his council should consider the prolongation
necessary. The conditions in detail and the subsequent course
of the enterprise thus projected were minutely regulated and
settled in a treaty published by Dutillet in 1588, from a copy
found at Caen when Edward III. became master of that city
in 1346. The events of the war, the long fits of hesitation on

62 HISTORY OF FRANCS. [CH. XT,

the part of both kings, and the repeated alternations from hos
tilities to truces and truces to hostilities prevented any thing
from coming of this proposal, the authenticity of which has
been questioned by M. Michelet amongst others, but the
genuineness of which has been demonstrated by M. Adolph
Despont, member of the appeal-court of Caen, in his learned
Histoire du Cotentin.

Edward III., though he had proclaimed himself king of
France, did not at the outset of his claim adopt the policy of a
man firmly resolved and burning to succeed. From 1337 to
1340 he behaved as if he were at strife with the count of Flan*
ders rather than with the king of France. He was incessantly
to and fro, either by embassy or in person, between England,
Flanders, Hainault, Brabant, and even Germany, for the pur
pose of bringing the princes and people to actively co-operate
with him against his rival ; and during this diplomatic move
ment such was the hostility between the king of England and
the count of Flanders that Edward's ambassadors thought it
impossible for them to pass through Flanders in safety, and
went to Holland for a ship in which to return to England.
Nor were their fears groundless ; for the count of Flanders had
caused to be arrested, and was still detaining in prison at the
castle of Rupelmonde, the Fleming Sohier of Courtrai, who
had received into his house at Ghent one of the English en
voys, and had shown himself favorable to their cause. Ed
ward keenly resented these outrages, demanded but did not
obtain the release of Sohier of Courtrai, and by way of revenge
gave orders in November, 1337, to two of his bravest captains,
the earl of Derby and Walter de Manny, to go and attack the
fort of Cadsand, situated between the island of Walcheren and
the town of Ecluse (or Sluys), a post of consequence to the
count of Flanders, who had confided the keeping of it to his
bastard brother Guy, with five thousand of his most faithful
subjects. It was a sanguinary affair. The besieged were sur
prised but defended themselves bravely ; the landing cost the
English dear; the earl of Derby was wounded and hurled to
the ground, but his comrade, Walter de Manny, raised him up
with a shout to his men of "Lancaster, for the earl of Derby;"
and at last the English prevailed. The bastard of Flanders
was made prisoner; the town was pillaged and burned; and
the English returned to England and "told their ad venture,"
says Froissart, "to the king, who was right joyous when he
saw them and learnt how they had sped."

OH. xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 53

Thus began that war which was to be so cruel and so long
The Flemings bore the first brunt of it. It was a lamentable
position for them ; their industrial and commercial prosperity
was being ruined ; their security at home was going from them ;
their communal liberties were compromised ; divisions set in
amongst them ; by interest and habitual intercourse they were
drawn towards England, but the count, their lord, did all he
could to turn them away from her, and many amongst them
were loath to separate themselves entirely from France,
" Burghers of Ghent, as they chatted in the thoroughfares and
at the cross-roads, said one to another that they had heard
much wisdom, to their mind, from a burgher who was called
James van Artevelde, and who was a brewer of beer. They
had heard him say that, if he could obtain a hearing and credit,
he would in a little while restore Flanders to good estate, and
they would recover all their gains without standing ill with the
king of France or the king of England. These sayings began
to get spread abroad insomuch that a quarter or half the city
was informed thereof, especially the small folks of the com
monalty, whom the evil touched most nearly. They began to
assemble in the streets, and it came to pass that one day, after
dinner, several went from house to house calling for their com
rades, and saying, ' Come and hear the wise man's counsel.*
On the 26th of December, 1337, they came to the house of the
said James van Artevelde, and found him leaning against his
door. Far off as they were when they first perceived him,
they made him a deep obeisance, and * Dear sir,' they said. ' we
are come to you for counsel ; for we are told that by your great
and good sense you will restore the country of Flanders to good
case. So tell us how.' Then James van Artevelde came for
ward, and said, * Sirs comrades, I am a native and burgher of
this city, and here I have my means. Know that I would
gladly aid you with all my power you and all the country ; if
there were here a man who would be willing to take the lead,
I would be willing to risk body and means at his side ; and if
the rest of ye be willing to be brethren, friends and comrades
to me, to abide in all matters at my side, notwithstanding that
I am not worthy of it, I will undertake it willingly.' Then
said all with one voice, * We promise you faithfully to abide at
your side in all matters and to therewith adventure body and
means, for we know well that in the whole countship of Flan
ders there is not a man but you worthy so to do.' " Then Van
Artevelde bound them to assemble on the next day but one in

04 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH. xx

the grounds of the monastery of Biloke, which had received
numerous benefits from the ancestors of Sohier of Courtraj,
whose son-in-law Van Artevelde was.

This bold burgher of Ghent, who was born about 1285, was
sprung from a family the name of which had been for a long
while inscribed in their city upon the register of industrial
corporations. His father, John van Artevelde, a cloth- worker,
had been several times over sheriff of Ghent, and his mother,
Mary van Groete, was great-aunt to the grandfather of the
illustrious publicist called in history Grotius. James van
Artevelde in his youth accompanied Count Charles of Valois,
brother of Philip the Handsome, upon his adventurous expedi
tions in Italy, Sicily, and Greece, and to the island of Rhodes;
and it had been close by the spots where the soldiers of Marathon
and Salamis had beaten the armies of Darius and Xerxes that
he had heard of the victory of the Flemish burghers and work
men attacked in 1302, at Courtrai, by the splendid army of
Philip the Handsome. James van Artevelde, on returning to
his country, had been busy with his manufactures, his fields,
the education of his children, and Flemish affairs up to the day
when, at his invitation, the burghers of Ghent thronged to the
meeting on the 28th of December, 1337, in the grounds of the
monastery of Biloke. There he delivered an eloquent speech,
pointing out unhesitatingly but temperately the policy which he
considered good for the country. " Forget not," he said, " the
might and the glory of Flanders. Who, pray, shall forbid that
we defend our interests by using our rights? Can the king of
France prevent us from treating with the king of England?
And may we not be certain that if we were to treat with the
king of England, the king of France would not be the less ur
gent in seeking our alliance? Besides, have we not with us all
the communes of Brabant, of Hainault, of Holland, and of Zea
land?" The audience cheered these words; the commune of
Ghent forthwith assembled, and on the 3rd of January, 1337
[according to the old style, which made the year begin at the
25th of March], re-established the offices of captains of parishes
according to olden usage, when the city was exposed to any
pressing danger. It was carried that one of these captains
should have the chief government of the city; and James van
Artevelde was at once invested with it. From that moment
the conduct of Van Artevelde was ruled by one predominant
idea: to secure free and fair commercial intercourse for Flan
ders with England, whilst observing a general neutrality in the

OH. xx.J THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 65

war between the kings of England and France, and to combine
so far all the communes of Flanders in one and the same policy.
And he succeeded in this twofold purpose. "On the 29th of
April, 1338, the representatives of all the communes of Flan
ders (the city of Bruges numbering amongst them a hundred
and eight deputies), repaired to the castle of Male, a residence
of Count Louis, and then James van Artevelde set before the
count what had been resolved upon amongst them. The count
submitted, and swore that he would thenceforth maintain the
liberties of Flanders in the state in which they had existed
since the treaty of Athies. In the month of May following a
deputation, consisting of James van Artevelde and other
burghers appointed by the cities of Ghent, Bruges, and Ypres
scoured the whole of Flanders, from Bailleul to Termonde, and
from Ninove to Dunkerque , " to reconcile the good folks of the
communes to the count of Flanders, as well for the count's
honor, as for the peace of the country." Lastly, on the 10th
of June, 1338, a treaty was signed at Anvers between the depu
ties of the Flemish communes and the English ambassadors,
the latter declaring: " We do all to wit that we have negotiated
way and substance of friendship with the good folks of the
communes of Flanders, in form and manner hereinafter
following:

"First, they shall be able to go and buy the wools and other
merchandise which have been exported from England to Hol
land, Zealand or any other place whatsoever; and all traders
of Flanders who shall repair to the ports of England shall there
be safe and free in their persons and their goods, just as in any
other place where their ventures might bring them together.

" Item, we have agreed with the good folks and with all the
common country of Flanders that they must not mix nor inter
meddle in any way, by assistance in men or arms, in the wars
of our lord the king and the noble Sir Philip of Valois (who
holdeth himself for king of France)."

Three articles following regulated in detail the principles laid
down in the first two, and, by another charter, Edward III.
ordained that "all stuifs marked with the seal of the city of
Ghent might travel freely in England without being subject
according to ellage and quality to the control to which all
foreign merchandise was subject." (Histoire de Flandre, by
M. le Baron Kerwyn de Lettenhove, t. iii. pp. 199-203.)

Van Artevelde was right in telling the Flemings that, if they
treated with the king of Ensrland, the king of France would be

66 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH. HL

only the more anxious for their alliance. Philip of Valois and
even Count Louis of Flanders, when they got to know of the
negotiations entered into between the Flemish communes and
King Edward, redoubled their offers and promises to them.
But when the passions of men have taken full possession of
their souls, words of concession and attempts at accommoda
tion are nothing mote than postponements or lies. Philip,
when he heard about the conclusion of a treaty between the
Flemish communes and the king of England, sent word to
Count Louis " that this James van Artevelde must not, on any
account, be allowed to rule or even live, for, if it were so for
long, the count would lose his land." The count, very much
disposed to accept such advice, repaired to Ghent and sent for
Van Artevelde to come and see him at his hotel. He went, but
with so large a following that the count was not at the time at
all in a position to resist him. He triod to persuade the Flem
ish burgher that " if he would keep a hand on the people so as
to keep them to their love for the king of France, he having
more authority than any one else for such a purpose, much
good would result to him : mingling, besides, with this address,
some words of threatening import." Van Artevelde who was
not the least afraid of the threat, and who at heart was fond of
the English, told the count that he would do as he had prom
ised the communes. " Hereupon he left the count, who con
sulted his confidants as to what he was to do in this business,
and they counselled him to let them go and assemble their
people, saying that they would kill Van Artevelde secretly or
otherwise. And indeed, they did lay many traps and made
many attempts against the captain; but it was of no avail/
since all the commonalty was for him." When the rumor of
these projects and these attempts was spread abroad in the
city, the excitement was extreme, and all the burghers assumed
white hoods, which was the mark peculiar to the members of
the commune when they assembled under their flags ; so that
the count found himself reduced to assuming one, for he was
afraid of being kept captive at Ghent, and, on the pretext of a
hunting-party, he lost no time in gaining his castle of Male.

The burghers of Ghent had their minds still filled with their
late alarm when they heard that, by order it was said of the
king of France, Count Louis had sent and beheaded at the
castle of Rupelmonde, in the very bed in which he was con
fined by his infirmities, their fellow-citizen Sohier of Courtrai,
Van Artevelde's father-in-law, who had been kept for many

CH. xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAX. 57

months in prison for his intimacy with the English. On the
same day the bishop of Senlis and the abbot of St. Denis had
arrived at Tournay, and had superintended the reading out in
the market-place of a sentence of excommunication against the
Ghentese.

It was probably at this date that Van Artevelde in his vexation
and disquietude assumed in Ghent an attitude threatening and
despotic even to tyranny. " He had continually after him,"
says Froissart, " sixty or eighty armed varlets, amongst whom
were two or three who knew some of his secrets. When he
met a man whom he hated or had in suspicion this man was at
once killed, for Van Artevelde had given this order to his varlets :
' The moment I meet a man, and make such and such a sign to
you, slay him without delay, however great he may be, with
out waiting for more speech.' In this way he had many great
masters slain. And as soon as these sixty varlets had taken
him home to his hotel, each went to dinner at his own house ;
and the moment dinner was over they returned and stood be
fore his hotel and waited in the street until that he was minded
to go and play and take his pastime in the city, and so they
attended him to supper-time. And know that each of these
hirelings had per diem four groschen of Flanders for their ex
penses and wages, and he had them regularly paid from week
to week. . . . And even in the case of all that were most
powerful in Flanders, knights, esquires, and burghers of the
good cities, whom he believed to be favorable to the count of
Flanders, them he banished from Flanders and levied half
their revenues. He had levies made of rents, of dues on mer
chandise and all the revenues belonging to the count, wherever
it might be in Flanders, and he disbursed them at his will, and
gave them away without rendering any account. . . . And
when he would borrow of any burghers on his word for pay*
ment, there was none that durst say him nay. In short there
was never in Flanders, or in any other country, duke, count,
prince, or other who can have had a country at his will as
James van Artevelde had for a long time."

It is possible that, as some historians have thought, Froissart,
being less favorable to burghers than to princes, did not deny
himself a li ttle exaggeration in this portrait of a great burgher-
patriot transformed by the force of events and passions into a
demagogic tyrant. But some of us may have too vivid a per
sonal recollection of similar scenes to doubt the general truth
of the picture ; and we shall meet before long in the history of

58 HISTORY OP FRANCS. [OH. XT,

France during the fourteenth century with an example still
more striking and more famous than that of Van Artevelde.

Whilst the count of Flanders, after having vainly attempted
to excite an uprising against Van Artevelde, was being forced,
in order to escape from the people of Bruges, to mount his
horse in hot haste, at night and barely armed, and to flee away
to St. Omer, Philip of Valois and Edward III. were preparing,
on either side, for the war which they could see drawing near.
Philip was vigorously at work on the pope, the emperor of
Germany, and the princes neighbors of Flanders, in order to
raise obstacles against his rival or rob him of his allies. He
ordered that short-lived meeting of the States-general about
which we have no information left us, save that it voted the
principle that "no talliage could be imposed on the people if
urgent necessity or evident utility should not require it, and
unless by concession of the Estates." Philip, as chief of feudal
society rather than of the nation which was forming itself
little by little around the lords, convoked at Amiens all his
vassals great and small, laic or cleric, placing all his strength
in their co-operation, and not caring at all to associate the
country itself in the affairs of his government. Edward, on the
contrary, whilst equipping his fleet and amassing treasure at
the expense of the Jews and Lombard usurers, was assembling
his parliament, talking to it "of this important and costly
war," for which he obtained large subsidies, and accepting
without making any difficulty the vote of the Commons'
House, which expressed a desire " to consult their constituents
upon this subject, and begged him to summon an early parlia
ment, to which there should be elected, in each county, two
knights taken from among the best landowners of their coun
ties." The king set out for the Continent; the parliament met
and considered the exigences of the war by land and sea, in
Scotland and in France; traders, shipowners, and mariners
were called and examined; and the forces determined to be
necessary were voted. Edward took the field, pillaging, burn
ing, and ravaging, " destroy ing all the country for twelve or
fourteen leagues in extent," as he himself said in a letter to the
archbishop of Canterbury. When he set foot on French terri
tory, Count William of Hainault, his brother-in-law and up to
that time his ally, came to him and said that " he would ride
with him no farther, for that his presence was prayed and re
quired by his uncle the king of France, to whom he bore no
hate, and whom he would go and serve in his own kingdom,

OH. xx.] THS HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 59

as he had served King Edward on the territory of the emperor,
whose vicar he was," and Edward wished him "God speed!"
6uch was the binding nature of feudal ties that the same lord
held himself hound to pass from one camp to another accord
ing as he found himself upon the domains of one or the other
of his suzerains in a war one against the other. Edward con
tinued his march towards St Quentin, where Philip had at last
arrived with his allies the kings of Bohemia, Navarre, and
Scotland, " after delays which had given rise to great scandal
and murmurs throughout the whole kingdom." The two
armies, with a strength, according to Froissart, of a hundred
thousand men on the French side, and forty-four thousand on
the English, were soon facing one another, near Buironfosse,
a large burgh of Picardy. A herald came from the English
camp to tell the king of France that the king of England " de
manded of him battle. To which demand," says Froissart,
" the king of France gave willing assent and accepted the day
which was fixed at first for Thursday the 21st, and afterwards
for Saturday the 25th of October, 1339." To judge from the
somewhat tangled accounts of the chroniclers and of Froissart
himself, neither of the two kings was very anxious to come to
blows. The forces of Edward were much inferior to those of
Philip; and the former had accordingly taken up, as it ap
pears, a position which rendered attack difficult for Philip.
There was much division of opinion in the French camp. In
dependently of military grounds, a great deal was said about
certain letters from Robert, king of Naples, " a mighty necro
mancer and full of mighty wisdom, it was reported, who,
after having several times cast their horoscopes, had discov
ered by astrology and from experience, that, if his cousin, the
king of France, were to fight the king of England, the former
would be worsted." "In thus disputing and debating," says
Froissart, " the time passed till full mid-day. A little after
wards a hare came leaping across the fields, and rushed
amongst the French. Those who saw it began shouting and
making a great halloo. Those who were behind thought that
those who were in front were engaging in battle ; and several
put on their helmets and gripped their swords, Thereupon
several knights were made ; and the count of Hainault himself
made fourteen, who were thenceforth nick-named knights of
the Hare." Whatever his motive may have been, Philip did
not attack ; and Edward promptly began a retreat. They both
dismissed their allies ; and during the early days of November

60 HISTORY OF FRANCS. [CH. xx

Philip fell back upon St. Quentin, and Edward went and took
up his winter-quarters at Brussels.

For Edward it was a serious check not to have dared to
attack the king whose kingdom he made a pretence of con
quering; and he took it grievously to heart. At Brussels he
had an interview with his allies and asked their counsel. Most
of the princes of the Low Countries remained faithful to him
und the count of Hainault seemed inclined to go back to him;
but all hesitated as to what he was to do to recover from the
check. Van Artevelde showed more invention and more bold
ness. The Flemish communes had concentrated their forces
not far from the spot where the two kings had kept their
armies looking at one another; but they had maintained a
strict neutrality, and at the invitation of the count of Flanders,
who promised them that the king of France would entertain
all their claims, Artevelde and Breydel, the deputies from
Ohent and Bruges, even repaired to Courtrai to make terms
with him. But as they got there nothing but ambiguous en
gagements and evasive promises, they let the negotiation drop,
aud, whilst Count Louis was on his way to rejoin Philip at St.
Quentin, Artevelde with the deputies from the Flemish com
munes started for Brussels. Edward, who was already living
on very confidential terms with him, told him that "if the
Flemings were minded to help him to keep up the war and go
with him withersoever he would take them, they should aid
him to recover Lille, Douai, and Bethune, then occupied by
the king of France. Artevelde, after consulting his colleagues,
returned to Edward, and, ' Dear sir,' said he, * you have already
made such requests to us, and verily, if we could do so whilst
keeping our honor and faith, we would do as you demand ; but
we be bound, by faith and oath, and on a bond of two millions
of florins entered into with the pope, not to go to war with the
ttig of France without incurring a debt to the amount of that
»um and a sentence of excommunication ; but if you do that
which we are about to say to you, if you will be pleased to
adopt the arms of France, and quarter them with those of
England, and openly call yourself king of France, we will up
hold you for the true king of France ; you, as king of France,
shall give us quittance of our faith ; and then we will obey you
9* king of France, and will go whithersoever you shall ordain.9*

This prospect pleased Edward mightily: but "it irked him to
take the name and arms of that of which he had as yet won nc
title.1' He consulted his allies. Some of them hesitated; but

OH, xx.} THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 61

" his most privy and especial friend," Robert d'Artois, strongly
urged him to consent to the proposal. So a French prince and
a Flemish burger prevailed upon the king of England to pursue,
as in assertion of his avowed rights, the conquest of the king
dom of France. King, prince, and burgher fixed Ghent as
their place of meeting for the official conclusion of the alliance;
and there, in January, 1340, the mutual engagement was signed
and sealed. The king of England * ' assumed the arms of France
quartered with those of England," and thenceforth took the
title of king of France.

Then burst forth in reality that war which was to last a
hundred years ; which was to bring upon the two nations the
most violent struggles as well as the most cruel sufferings, and
which, at the end of a hundred years, was to end in the salva
tion of France from her tremendous peril and the defeat of
England in her unrighteous attempt. In January, 1340, Ed
ward thought he had won the most useful of allies ; Artevelde
thought the independence of the Flemish communes and his
own supremacy in his own country secured; and Robert
d'Artois thought with complacency how he had gratified his
hatred for Philip of Valois. And all three were deceiving
themselves in their joy and their confidence.

Edward, leaving Queen Philippa at Ghent with Artevelde
for her adviser, had returned to England, and had just ob
tained from the Parliament, for the purpose of vigorously
pushing on the war, a subsidy almost without precedent, when
he heard that a large French fleet was assembling on the coasts
of Zealand, near the port of Ecluse (or Sluys) with a design of
surprising and attacking him when he should cross over again
to the Continent. For some time past this fleet had been
cruising in the Channel, making descents here and there upon
English soil, at Plymouth, Southampton, Sandwich, and Dover,
and every where causing alarm and pillage. Its strength, they
said, was a hundred and forty large vessels, " without count
ing the smaller, " having on board thirty-five thousand men,
Normans, Picards, Italians, sailors and soldiers of all countries,
under the command of two French leaders, Hugh Qiueret, titu
lar admiral, and Nicholas Belmehet, King Philip's treasurer,
and of a famous Genoese buccanier, named Barbavera. Ed
ward, so soon as he received this information, resolved to go
and meet their attack ; and he gave orders to have his vessels
and troops summoned from all parts of England to Orewell,
his point of departure. His advisers, with the archbishop of

69 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH, xx.

Canterbury at their head, strove, but in vain, to restrain him.
" Ye are all in conspiracy against me," said he; "I shall go;
and those who are afraid can abide at home." And go he did
on the 22nd of June, 1340, and aboard of his fleet " went with
nim many an English dame," says Froissart, "wives of earls
and barons and knights and burghers of London, who were off
co Ghent to see the queen of England, whom for a long time
past they had not seen ; and King Edward guarded them care
fully." "For many a long day," said he, " have I desired to
fight those fellows, and now we will fight them, please God
and St. George; for, verily, they have caused me so many
displeasures that I would fain take vengeance for them if I
can but get it." On arriving off the coast of Flanders, opposite
Ecluse (or Sluys), he saw "so great a number of vessels that
of masts there seemed to be verily a forest." He made his ar
rangements forthwith, "placing his strongest ships in front
and manoeuvring so as to have the wind on the starboard
quarter and the sun astern. The Normans marvelled to see
the English thus twisting about, and said, ' They are turning
tail; they are not men enough to fight us.' " But the Genoese
buccaneer was not misled. " When he saw the English fleet
approaching in such fashion, he said to the French admiral
and his colleague Belmchet, ' Sirs, here is the king of England
with all his ships bearing down upon us : if ye will follow my
advice, instead of remaining shut up in port, ye will draw out
into the open sea ; for, if ye abide here, they, whilst they have
in their favor sun and wind and tide, will keep you so short
of room that ye will be helpless and unable to manoeuvre.'
Whereupon answered the treasurer, Behuchet, who knew
more about arithmetic than sea-fights, 'Let him go hang,
whoever shall go out: here will we wait and take our chance.'
'Sir,' replied Barbavera, 'if ye will not be pleased to believe
me, I have no mind to work oy own ruin, and I will get me
gone with my galleys out of this hole.'" And out he went
with all his squadron, engaged the English on the high seas,
and took the first ship which attempted to board him. But
Edward, though he was wounded in the thigh, quickly restored
the battle. After a gallant resistance Barbavera sailed off with
his galleys and the French fleet found itself alone at grips
with the English. The struggle was obstinate on both sides ;
it began at six in the morning of June 24th, 1340, and lasted to
mid-day. It was put an end to by the arrival of the reinforce
ments promised by the Flemings to the king of England.

CH. xx.] TEE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 68

"The deputies of Bruges," says their historians, "had em
ployed the whole night in getting under weigh an armament
of two hundred vessels and, before long, the French heard
echoing about them the horns of the Flemish mariners sound
ing to quarters. " These latter decided the victory ; Behuchet,
Philip of Valois' treasurer, fell into their hands; and they,
heeding only their desire of avenging themselves for the devas
tation of Cadsand (in 1337), hanged him from the mast of his
vessel "out of spite to the king of France." The admiral,
Hugh Quieret, though he surrendered, was put to death; "and
with him perished so great a number of men-at-arms that the
sea was dyed with blood on this coast, and the dead were put
down at quite 30,000 men."

The very day after the battle the queen of England came
from Ghent to join the king her husband, whom his wound
confined to his ship ; and at Valenciennes, whither the news of
the victory speedily arrived, Artevelde, mounting a platform
set up in the market-place, maintained in the presence of a
large crowd the right which the king of England had to claim
the kingdom of France. He vaunted uthe puissance of the
three countries, Flanders, Hainault, and Brabant, when at
one accord amongst themselves, and what with his words and
his great sense," says Froissart, " he did so well that all who
heard him said that he had spoken mighty well and with
mighty experience, and that he was right worthy to govern
the countship of Flanders." From Valenciennes he repaired to
King Edward at Bruges, where all the allied princes were
assembled ; and there, in concert with the other deputies from
the Flemish communes, Artevelde offered Edward a hundred
thousand men for the vigorous prosecution of the war. " All
these burghers," says the modern historian of the Flemings,
"had declared that, in order to promote their country's cause,
they would serve without pay, so heartily had they entered
into the war." The siege of Tournay was the first operation
Edward resolved to undertake. He had promised to give this
place to the Flemings ; the burghers were getting a taste for
conquest, in company with kings.

They found Philip of Valois better informed and also more
hot for war than perhaps they had expected. It is said that
he learnt the defeat of his navy at Ecluse from his court-fool,
who was the first to announce it, and in the following fashion.
"The English are cowards," said he. "Why so?" asked the
king. " Because they lacked courage to leap into the sea at

64 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xx

Ecluse as the French and Normans did." Philip lost no time
about putting the places on his Northern frontier in a state ot
defence ; he took up his quarters first at Arras and then three
leagues from Tournay, into which his constable, Eaoul d'Eu,
immediately threw himself with a considerable force, and
whither his allies, the duke of Lorraine, the count of Savoy,
the bishops of Liege, Metz, and Verdun, and nearly all the
barons of Burgundy came and joined them. On the 27th of
July, 1340, he received there from his rival a challenge of
portentous length, the principal terms of which are set forth
as follows : —

"Philip of Valois, for a long time past we have taken pro
ceedings, by means of messages and other reasonable ways, to
the end that you might restore to us our rightful heritage of
France, which you have this long while withheld from us and
do most wrongfully occupy. And as we do clearly see that
you do intend to persevere in your wrongful withholding, we
do give you notice that we are marching against you to bring
our rightful claims to an issue. And, whereas so great a
number of folks assembled, on our side and on yours, cannot
keep themselves together for long without causing great
destruction to the people and the country, we desire, as the
quarrel is between you and us, that the decision of our claim
should be between our two bodies. And if you have no mind
to this way, we propose that our quarrel should end by a
battle, body to body, between a hundred persons, the most
capable on your side and on ours. And, if you have no mind
either to one way or to the other, that you do appoint us a
fixed day for fighting before the city of Tournay, power to
power. Given under our privy seal, on the field near Tournay,
the 26th day of July, in the first year of our reign in France
and in England the fourteenth."

Philip replied: " Philip, by the grace of God king of France,
to Edward king of England. We have seen your letters
brought to our court, as from you to Philip of Valois, and con
taining certain demands which you make upon the said Philip
of Valois. And, as the said letters did not come to ourself , we
make you no answer. Our intention is, when it shall seem
good to us, to hurl you out of our kingdom, for the benefit of
our people. And of that we have firm hope in Jesus Christ,
from whom all power cometh to us."

Events were not satisfactory either to the haughty preten-
iHons of Edward or to the patriotic hopes of Philip. The war

CH. xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. $5

continued in the north and south-west of France without any
result. In the neighborhood of Tournay some encounters in
the open country were unfavorable to the English and their
allies; the siege of the place was prolonged for seventy-four
days without the attainment of any success by assault or
investment ; and the inhabitants defended themselves with so
obstinate a courage, that, when at length the king of England
found himself obliged to raise the siege, Philip, to testify his
gratitude towards them, restored them their law, that is, their
communal charter for some time past withdrawn, and "they
were greatly rejoiced," says Froissart, "at having no more
royal governors and at appointing provosts and jurymen ac
cording to their fancy." The Flemish burghers, in spite of
their display of warlike zeal, soon grew tired of being so far
from their business and of living under canvas. In Aquitaine
the lieutenants of the king of France had the advantage over
those of the king of England ; they re-took or delivered several
places in dispute between the two crowns, and they closely
pressed Bordeaux itself both by land and sea. Edward, the
aggressor, was exhausting his pecuniary resources, and his
Parliament was displaying but little inclination to replenish
them. For Philip, who had merely to defend himself in his
own dominions, any cessation of hostilities was almost a
victory. A pious princess, Joan of Valois, sister of Philip and
mother-in-law of Edward, issued from her convent at Fonte-
nello, for the purpose of urging the two kings to make peace
or at least to suspend hostilities. "The good dame," says
Froissart, "saw there, on the two sides, all the flower and
honor of the chivalry of the world ; and many a time she had
fallen at the feet of her brother, the king of France, praying
him for some respite or treaty of agreement between himself
and the English king. And when she had labored with them
of France she went her way to them of the Empire, to the duke
of Brabrant, to the marquis of Juliers, and to my lord John of
Hainault, and prayed them, for God's and pity's sake, that
they would be pleased to hearken to some terms of accord, and
would win over the king of England to be pleased to con
descend thereto." In concert with the envoys of Pope
Benedict XII., Joan of Valois at last succeeded in bringing the
two sovereigns and their allies to a truce, which was concluded
on the 25th of September, 1340, at first for nine months, and
was afterwards renewed on several occasions up to the month
of June. 1342. Neither sovereign, and none of their allies gave

66 HISTORY OF FRANCS. [OH. xx,

up any thing or bound themselves to any thing more than not
to fight during that interval; but they were, on both sides,
without the power of carrying on without pause a struggle
which they would not entirely abandon.

An unexpected incident led to its recommencement in spite
of the truce: not, however, throughout France or directly
between the two kings, but with fiery fierceness, though it
was limited to a single province, and arose not in the name of
the kingship of France but out of a purely provincial question.
John III., duke of Brittany and a faithful vassal of Philip of
Valois, whom he had gone to support at Tournay "more
stoutly and substantially than any of the other princes," says
Froissart, died suddenly at Caen, on the 30th of April, 1341.
on returning to his domain. Though he had been thrice mar
ried he left no child. The duchy of Brittany then reverted to
his brothers or their posterity ; but his very next brother, Guy,
count of Penthievre, had been dead six years and had left only
a daughter, Joan called the Cripple, married to Charles of
Blois, nephew of the king of France. The third brother was
still alive ; he too was named John, had from his mother the
title of count of Montfort, and claimed to be heir to the duchy
of Brittany in preference to his niece Joan. The niece, on the
contrary, believed in her own right to the exclusion of her
uncle. The question was exactly the same as that which had
arisen touching the crown of France when Philip the Long had
successfully disputed it with the only daughter of his brother
Louis the Quarreller ; but the Salic law, which had for more
than three centuries prevailed in France and just lately to the
benefit of Philip of Valois, had no existence in the written code
or the traditions of Brittany. There, as in several other great
fiefs, women had often been recognized as capable of holding
and transmitting sovereignty. At the death of John III., his
brother the count of Montfort, immediately put himself in
possession of the inheritance, seized the principal Breton
towns, Nantes, Brest, Eennes, and Vannes, and crossed over to
England to secure the support of Edward III. His rival, Charles
of Blois, appealed to the decision of the king of France, his
uncle and natural protector. Philip of Valois thus found him
self the champion of succession in the female line in Brittany,
whilst he was himself reigning in France by virtue of the Salic
law, and Edward III. took up in Brittany the defence of suc
cession in the male line which he was disputing and fighting
against in France. Philip and his court of peers declared on

OH. XX.J THR HUNDRED TEARS' WAR, 07

the 7th of September, 1341, that Brittany belonged to Charles
of Elois, who at once did homage for it to the king of France,
whilst John of Montf ort demanded and obtained the support of
the king of England. War broke out between the two claim
ants, effectually supported by the two kings, who nevertheless
were not supposed to make war upon one another and in their
own dominions. The feudal system sometimes entailed these
strange and dangerous complications.

If the two parties had been reduced for leaders to the two
claimants only, the war would not, perhaps, have lasted long.
In the first campaign the count of Montf ort was made prisoner
at the siege of Nantes, carried off to Paris and shut up in the
tower of the Louvre, whence he did not escape until three
years were over. Charles of Blois, with all his personal valor,
was so scrupulously devout that he often added to the embar
rassments and at the same time the delays of war. He never
marched without being followed by his almoner, who took with
him every where bread and wine and water and fire in a pot
for the purpose of saying mass by the way. One day when
Charles was accordingly hearing it and was very near the
enemy, one of his officers, Auffroy de Montboucher, said to
him, "Sir, you see right well that your enemies are yonder,
and you halt a longer time than they need to take you."
" Auffroy, "answered the prince, " we shall always have towns
and castles, and, if they are taken, we shall, with God's help,
recover them ; but if we miss hearing of mass, we shall never
recover it." Neither side, however, had much detriment from
either the captivity or pious delays of its chief. Joan of Flan
ders, countess of Montfort, was at Bennes when she heard that
her husband had been taken prisoner at Nantes. "Although
she made great mourning in her heart," says Froissart, "she
made it not like a disconsolate woman, but like a proud and
gallant man. She showed to her friends and soldiers a little
boy she had, and whose name was John, even as his father's,
and she said to them, ' Ah ! sirs, be not discomforted and cast
down because of my lord whom we have lost ; he was but one
man; see here is my little boy who, please God, shall be his
avenger. I have wealth in abundance, and of it I will give
you enow, and I will provide you with such a leader as shall
give you all fresh heart.' She went through all her good
towns and fortresses, taking her young son with her, reinforc
ing the garrisons with men and all they wanted, and giving
away abundantly wherever she thought it would be well laid

68 EI8TOR7 OF FRANOB. [CH. x*

out. Then she went her way to Hennebon-sur-Mer, wh\ch was
a strong town and strong castle, and there she abode, and her
son with her, all the winter." In May, 1342, Charles of Blois
came to besiege her ; but the attempts at assault were not suc
cessful. " The countess of Montfort, who was cased in armor
and rode on a fine steed, galloped from street to street through
the town, summoned the people to defend themselves stoutly,
and called on the women, dames, damoisels, and others, to pull
up the roads, and carry the stones to the ramparts to throw
down on the assailants." She attempted a bolder enterprise.
"She sometimes mounted a tower, right up to the top, that
she might see the better how her people bore themselves. She
one day saw that all they of the hostile army, lords and others,
had left their quarters and gone to watch the assault. She
mounted her steed, all armed as she was, and summoned to
horse with her about three hundred men-at-arms who were on
guard at a gate which was not being assailed. She went out
thereat with all her company and threw herself valiantly upon
the tents and quarters of the lords of France, which were all
burnt, being guarded only by boys and varlets, who fled as
soon as they saw the countess and her folks entering and set
ting fire. When the lords saw their quarters burning and
heard the noise which came therefrom they ran up all dazed
and crying, ' Betrayed I betrayed I* so that none remained for
the assault. When the countess saw the enemy's host running
up from all parts, she re-assembled all her folks, and seeing
right well that she could not enter the town again without too
great loss, she went off by another road to the castle of Brest
(or more probably, d'Auray, as Brest is much more than three
leagues from Hennebon), which lies as near as three leagues
from thence." Though hotly pursued by the assailants "she
rode so fast and so well that she and the greater part of her
folks arrived at the castle of Brest, where she was received and
feasted right joyously. Those of her folks who were in Henne
bon were all night in great disquietude because neither she nor
any of her company returned; and the assailant lords, who
had taken up quarters nearer to the town, cried, * Come out,
come out and seek your countess ; she is lost ; you will not find
a bit of her. In such fear the folks in Hennebon remained five
days. But the countess wrought so well that she had now full
five hundred comrades armed and well mounted ; then she set
out from Brest about midnight and came away, arriving at
sunrise and riding straight upon one of the flanks of the

OH, xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 69

enemy's host; there she had the gate of Hennebon castle
opened, and entered in with great joy and a great noise of
of trumpets and drums ; whereby the besiegers were roughly
disturbed and awakened."

The joy of the besieged was short. Charles of Blois pressed
on the siege more rigorously every day, threatening that, when
he should have taken the place, he would put all the inhabi
tants to the sword. Consternation spread even to the brave^
and a negotiation was opened with a view of arriving at terms
of capitulation. By dint of prayers Countess Joan obtained a
delay of three days. The first two had expired, and the be
siegers were preparing for a fresh assault, when Joan, from
the top of her tower, saw the sea covered with sails: " 'See,
see, 'she cried, 'the aid so much desired!' Everyone in the
town, as best they could, rushed up at once to the windows
and battlements of the walls to see what it might be," says
Froissart. In point of fact it was a fleet with 6000 men brought
irom England to the relief of Hennebon by Amaury de Clisson
and Walter de Manny ; and they had been a long while de
tained at sea by contrary winds. "When they had landed,
the countess herself went to them and feasted them and
thanked them greatly, which was no wonder, for she had
sore need of their coming. " It was far better still when, next
day, the new arrivals had attacked the besiegers and gained a
brilliant victory over them. When they re-entered the place,
"whoever," says Froissart, "saw the countess descend from
the castle, and kiss my lord Walter de Manny and his com
rades, one after another, two or three times, might well have
said that it was a gallant dame."

All the while that the count of Montfort was a prisoner in
the tower of the Louvre, the countess his wife strove for his
cause with the same indefatigable energy. He escaped in 1345,
crossed over to England, swore fealty and homage to Edward
III. for the duchy of Brittany, and immediately returned to
take in hand, himself, his own cause. But in the very year of
his escape, on the 26th of September, 1345, he died at the castle
of Hennebon, leaving once more his wife, with a young child,
alone at the head of his party and having in charge the future
of his house. The Countess Joan maintained the rights and
interests of her son as she had maintained those of her hus
band. For nineteen years, she, with the help of England, strug
gled against Charles of Blois, the head of a party growing more
and more powerful and protected by France. Fortune shifted

70 BISTORT OF FRANCE. \ca. xx.

her favors and her asperities from one camp to the other.
Charles of Blois had at first pretty considerable success ; but,
on the 18th of June, 1347, in a battle in which he personally
displayed a brilliant courage he was in his turn made prisoner,
carried to England, and immured in the Tower of London.
There he remained nine years. But he too had a valiant and
indomitable wife, Joan of Penthievre, the Cripple. She did
for her husband all that Joan of Montfort was doing for hers.
All the time that he was a prisoner in the Tower of London,
she was the soul and the head of his party, in the open coun
try as well as in the towns, turning to profitable account the
inclinations of the Breton population, whom the presence and
the ravages of the English had turned against John of Mont-
fort and his cause. She even convoked at Dinan, in 1352, a
general assembly of her partisans, which is counted by the
Breton historians as the second holding of the States of their
country. During nine years, from 1347 to 1356, the two Joans
were the two heads of their parties in politics and in war.
Charles of Blois at last obtained his liberty from Edward III.
on hard conditions, and returned to Brittany to take up the
conduct of his own affairs. The struggle between the two
claimants still lasted eight years with vicissitudes ending in
nothing definite. In 1363 Charles of Blois and young John of
Montfort, weary of their fruitless efforts and the sufferings of
their countries, determined both of them to make peace and
share Brittany between them. Eennes was to be Charles'
capital, and Nantes that of his rival. The treaty had been
signed, an altar raised between the two armies, and an oath
taken on both sides, but when Joan of Penthievre was in
formed of it she refused downright to ratify it. "I married
you," she said to her husband, " to defend my inheritance and
not to yield the half of it ; I am only a woman, but I would
lose my life, and two lives if I had them, rather than consent
to any cession of the kind." Charles of Blois, as weak before
his wife as brave before the enemy, broke the treaty he had
but just sworn to, and set out for Nantes to resume the war.
4 'My lord," said Countess Joan to him in presence of all his
knights, "you are going to defend my inheritance and yours,
which my lord of Montfort — wrongfully, God knows — doth
withhold from us, and the barons of Brittany who are here
present know that I am rightful heiress of it. I pray you affec
tionately not to make any ordinance, composition, or treaty
whereby the duchy corporate remain not ours." Charlea

CH. xx.] THE HUNDRED YEAR& WAR 71

set out; and in the following year, on the 29th of September,
1364, the battle of Auray cost him his life and the countship
of Brittany. When he was wounded to death he said, "I
have long been at war against my conscience." At sight of
his dead body on the field of battle young John of Montfort,
his conqueror, was touched, and cried out, " Alas! my cousin,
by your obstinacy you have been the cause of great evils in
Brittany: may God forgive you? It grieves me much that
you are come to so sad an end." After this outburst of gener
ous compassion came the joy of victory, which Montfort owed
above all to his English allies and to John Chandos their
leader, to whom, "My lord John," said he, "this great for
tune hath come to me through your great sense and prowess:
wherefore, I pray you, drink out of my cup." "Sir," an
swered Chandos, "let us go hence, and render you your
thanks to God for this happy fortune you have gotten, for,
without the death of yonder warrior, you could not have
come into the inheritance of Brittany. From that day forth
John of Montfort remained in point of fact duke of Brittany,
and Joan of Penthievre, the Cripple, the proud princess who
had so obstinately defended her rights against him, survived
for full twenty years the death of her husband and the loss of
her duchy.

Whilst the two Joans were exhibiting in Brittany, for the
preservation or the recovery of their little dominion, so much
energy and persistency, another Joan, no princess but not the
less a heroine, was, in no other interest than the satisfaction
of her love and her vengeance, making war, all by herself, on
the same territory. Several Norman and Breton lords, and
amongst others Oliver de Clisson and Godfrey d'Harcourt, were
suspected, nominally attached as they were to the king of
France, of having made secret overtures to the king of Eng
land. Philip of Valois had them arrested at a tournament,
and had them beheaded without any form of trial, in the mid
dle of the market-place at Paris, to the number of fourteen.
The head of Clisson was sent to Nantes, and exposed on one of
the gates of the city. At the news thereof, his widow, Joan of
Belleville, attended by several men of family, her neighbors
and friends, set out for a castle occupied by the troops of
Philip's candidate, Charles of Blois. The fate of Clisson was
not yet known there ; it was supposed that his wife was on a
hunting excursion; and she was admitted without distrust.
As soon as she was inside, the blast of a horn gave notice to

-.* VOL. 2

72 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xx.

her followers, whom she had left concealed in the neighboring
woods. They rushed up, and took possession of the castle;
and Joan de Clisson had all the inhabitants — but one— put to
the sword. But this was too little for her grief and her zeaL
At the head of her troops, augmented, she scoured the country
and seized several places, every where driving out or putting
to death the servants of the king of France. Philip confis
cated the property of the house of Clisson. Joan moved from
land to sea. She manned several vessels, attacked the French
ships she fell in with, ravaged the coasts, and ended by going
and placing at the service of the countess of Montfort her
hatred and her son, a boy of seven years of age whom she had
taken with her in all her expeditions and who was afterwards
the great constable Oliver de Clisson. We shall find him
under Charles V. and Charles VI. as devoted to France and
her kings as if he had not made his first essays in arms against
the candidate of their ancestor Philip. His mother had sent
him to England to be brought up at the court of Edward III.,
but, shortly after taking a glorious part with the English in
the battle of Auray, in which he lost an eye and which secured
the duchy of Brittany to the count of Montfort, De Clisson got
embroiled none the less with his suzerain, who had given John
Chandos the castle of Gavre, near Nantes. "Devil take me,
my lord," said Oliver to him, "if ever Englishman shall be
my neighbor ;" and he went forthwith and attacked the castle,
wliich he completely demolished. The hatreds of women
whose passions have made them heroines of war are more per
sonal and more obstinate than those of the roughest warriors.
Accordingly the war for the duchy of Brittany in the four
teenth century has been called in history the war of the three
Joans.

This war was, on both sides, remarkable for cruelty. If
Joan de Clisson gave to the sword all the people in a castle,
belonging to Charles of Blois, to which she had been admitted
on a supposition of pacific intentions, Charles of Blois, on his
side, finding in another castle thirty knights, partisans of the
count of Montfort, had their heads shot from catapults over
the walls of Nantes which he was besieging ; and, at the same
time that he saved from pillage the churches of Quimper which
he had just taken, he allowed his troops to massacre fourteen
hundred inhabitants and had his principal prisoners beheaded.
One of them, being a deacon, he caused to be degraded and
then handed over to the populace, who stoned him. It is

OH. xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 73

characteristic of the middle ages that in them the ferocity of
barbaric times existed side by side with the sentiments of
chivalry and the fervor of Christianity : so slow is the race of
man to eschew evil even when it has begun to discern and
relish good. War was then the passion and habitual condition
of men. They made it without motive as well as without pre
vision, in a transport of feeling or for the sake of pastime, to
display their strength or to escape from listlessness ; and, whilst
making it, they abandoned themselves without scruple to all
those deeds of violence, vengeance, brutal anger, or fierce de
light which war provokes. At the same time, however, the
generous impulses of feudal chivalry, the sympathies of Chris
tian piety, tender affections, faithful devotion, noble tastes,
were fermenting in their souls ; and human nature appeared
with all its complications, its inconsistencies, and its irregular
ities, but also with all its wealth of prospective development.
The three Joans of the fourteenth century were but eighty
years in advance of the Joan of Arc of the fifteenth ; and the
knights of Charles V., Du Guesclin and t)e Clisson, were the
forerunners of the Bayard of Francis I.

An incident which has retained its popularity in French his
tory, to wit, the fight between thirty Bretons and thirty Eng
lish during the just now commemorated war in Brittany wifl
give a better idea than any general observations could of the
real, living characteristics of facts and manners, barbaric and
at the same time chivalric, at that period. No apology is
needed for here reproducing the chief details as they have
been related by Froissart, the dramatic chronicler of the mid
dle ages.

In 1351, "it happened on a day that Sir Robert de Beauma-
noir, a valiant knight and commandant of the castle which is
called Castle Josselin came before the town and castle of
Ploermel, whereof the captain, called Brandebourg [or Brem-
Zwo, probably Bremborough], had with him a plenty of soldiers
of the countess of Montf ort. * Brandebourg, ' said Robert, ' have
ye within there never a man-at-arms, or two or tnree, who
would fain cross swords with other three for love of their
ladies?' Brandebourg answered that their ladies would not
have them lose their lives in so miserable an affair as single
combat, whereby one gained the name of fool rather than
honorable renown. ' I will tell you what we will do, if it
please you. You shall take twenty or thirty of your comrades,
aa I will take as many of ours. We will go out into a goodly

74 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. TJL

field where none can hinder or vex us, and there will we do so
much that men shall speak thereof in time to come in hall and
palace and highway, and other places of the world. ' ' By my
faith,' said Beaumanoir, * 'tis bravely said, and I agree: be ye
thirty, and we will be thirty too.' And thus the matter was
settled' When the day had come, the thirty comrades of
Brandebourg, whom we shall call English, heard mass, then
got on their arms, went off to the place where the battle was
to be, dismounted, and waited a long while for the others,
whom we shall call French. When the thirty French had
come, and they were in front one of another, they parleyed a
little together all the sixty ; then they fell back and made all
their fellows go far away from the place. Then one of them
made a sign, and forthwith they set on and fought stoutly all
in a heap, and they aided one another handsomely when they
saw their comrades in evil case. Pretty soon after they had
come together one of the French was slain, but the rest did
not slacken the fight one whit, and they bore themselves as
valiantly all as if they had all been Rolands and Olivers. At
last they were forced to stop, and they rested by common
accord, giving themselves truce until they should be rested,
and the first to get up again should recall the others. They
rested long, and they were some who drank wine which was
brought to them in bottles. They re-buckled their armor
which had got undone, and dressed their wounds. Four
French and two English were dead already."

It was no doubt during this interval that the captain of the
Bretons, Robert de Beaumanoir, grieviously wounded and
dying of fatigue and thirst, cried out for a drink. "Drink thy
blood, Beaumanoir," said one of his comrades, Geoffrey de
Bois according to some accounts, and Sire de Tinteniac accord
ing to others. From that day those words became the war-
cry of the Beaumanoirs. Froissart says nothing of this inci
dent. Let us return to his narrative.

" When they were refreshed, the first to get up again made
a sign and recalled the others. Then the battle recommenced
as stoutly as before and lasted a long while. They had short
swords of Bordeaux, tough and sharp, and boar-spears and
daggers, and some had axes, and therewith they dealt one
another marvellously great dings, and some seized one another
by the arms a-struggling, and they struck one another and
spared not. At last the English had the worst of it ; Brande-
bourg, their captain, was slain, with eight of hie comrade^

CH. xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 7fi

and the rest yielded themselves prisoners when they saw that
they could no longer defend themselves, for they could not and
must not fly. Sir Robert de Beaumanoir and his comrades,
who remained alive, took them and carried them off to Castle
Josselin as their prisoners ; and then admitted them to ransom
courteously when they were all cured, for there was none that
was not grievously wounded, French as well as English. I
saw afterwards sitting at the table of King Charles of France,
a Breton knight who had been in it, Sir Yvon Charuel ; and he
had a face so carved and cut that he showed full well how good
a fight had been fought. The matter was talked of in many
places ; and some set it down as a very poor, and others as a
very swaggering business."

The most modern and most judicious historian of Brittany,
Count Daru, who has left a name as honorable in literature as in
the higher administration of the First Empire, says, very truly,
in recounting this incident, "It is not quite certain whether
this was an act of patriotism or of chivalry." He might have
gone farther, and discovered in this exploit not only the charac
teristics he points out, but many others besides. Local patriot
ism, the honor of Brittany, party-spirt, the success of John of
Montfort or Charles of Blois, the sentiment of gallantry, the
glorification of the most beautiful one amongst their lady loves,
and, chiefly, the passion for war amongst all and sundry-
there was something of all this mixed up with the battle of the
Thirty, a faithful reflex of the complication and confusion of
minds, of morals and of wants at that forceful period. It is
this very variety of the ideas, feelings, interests, motives, and
motive tendencies involved in that incident which accounts for
the fact that the battle of the Thirty has remained so vividly
remembered, and that in 1811 a monument, unpretentious but
national, replaced the simple stone at first erected on the field
of battle, on the edge of the road fromPloermel to Josselin,
with this inscription: " To the immortal memory of the bat
tle of the Thirty, gained by marshal Beaumanoir, on the 26th
of March, 1350 (1351)."

With some fondness and at some length this portion of
Brittany's history in the fourteenth century has been dwelt
upon, not only because of the dramatic interest attaching to
the events and the actors, but also for the sake of showing, by
that example, how many separate associations, diverse and
often hostile, were at that time developing themselves, each
on its own account, in that extensive and beautiful country

76 HISTORY OF FRANCE, \pn. xx,

which became France. We will now return to Philip of Valois
and Edward III., and to the struggle between them for a settle «
ment of the question whether France should or should not pre
serve its own independent kingship and that national unity of
which she already had the name, but of which [she was still to
undergo so much painful travail in acquiring the reality.

Although Edward III. by supporting with troops and officer^
and sometimes even in person, the cause of the countess of Monfr
fort— and Philip of Valois, by assisting in the same way Charles
of Blois and Joan of Penthievre, took a very active, if indirect,
share in the war in Brittany, the two kings persisted in not call
ing themselves, at war: and when either of them proceeded to
acts of unquestionable hostility, they eluded the consequences of
them by hastily concluding truces incessantly violated and as
incessantly renewed. They had made use of this expedient in
1340; and they had recourse to it again in 1343, 1343, and 1344.
The last of these truces was to have lasted up to 1346 ; but, in the
spring of 1345, Edward resolved to put an end to this equivoca).
position, and to openly recommence war. He announced hia
intention to Pope Clement IV. , to his own lieutenants in Briiv
tany, and to all the cities and corporations of his kingdom.
He accused Philip of having "violated, without even sending
us a challenge, the truce which, out of regard to the sovereign
pontiff, we had agreed upon with him, and which he had taken
an oath, upon his soul, to keep. On account whereof we have
resolved to proceed against him, him and all his adherents, by
land and sea, by all means possible, in order to recover our
just rights." It is not quite clear what pressing reasons urged
Edward to this decisive resolution. The English parliament
and people, it is true, showed more disposition to support their
king in his pretensions to the throne of France, and the cause
of the count of Montfort was maintaining itself stubbornly in
Brittany, but nothing seemed to call for so startling a rupture
or to promise Edward any speedy and successful issue. He
had lost his most energetic and warlike adviser; for Robert
d'Artois, the deadly enemy of Philip of Valois, had been so
desperately wounded in the defence of Vannes against Robert
de Beaumanoir that he had returned to England only to die.
Edward felt this loss severely, gave (Robert a splendid funeral
in St. Paul's church, and declared that "he would listen to
naught until he had avenged him, and that he would reduce
the country of Brittany to such plight that, for forty years, it
should not recover." Philip of Valois. on his side, gave signu

CH. xx.-] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 77

of getting ready for war. In 1343 he had convoked at Parig
one of those assemblies which were begining to be called the
States-general of the kingdom, and he obtained from it certain
subventions. It was likewise in 1343 and at the beginning of
1344 that he ordered the arrest, at a tournament to which he
had invited them, and the decapitation, without any form of
trial, of fourteen Breton and three Norman lords whom he
suspected of intriguing against him with the king of England.
And so Edward might have considered himself threatened with
imminent peril ; and, besides, he had friends to avenge. But
it is not unreasonable to suppose that his fiery ambition and
his impatience to decide once for all that question of the French
kingship which had been for five years in suspense between
himself and his rival were the true causes of his warlike re
solve. However that may be, he determined to push the war
vigorously forward at the three points at which he could
easily wage it. In Brittany he had a party already engaged in
the struggle ; in Aquitaine possessions of importance to defend
or recover ; in Flanders allies with power to back him and as
angry as he himself. To Brittany he forwarded fresh supplies
for the count of Montf ort ; to Aquitaine he sent Henry of Lan
caster, earl of Derby, his own cousin and the ablest of his lieu
tenants ; and he himself prepared to cross over with a large
army to Flanders.

The earl of Derby met with solid and brilliant success in
Aquitaine. He attacked and took in rapid succession Ber-
gerac, La Beole, Aiguillon, Montpezat, Villefranche, and
Angouleme. None of those places was relieved in time ; the
strict discipline of Derby's troops and the skill of the English
archers were too much for the bravery of the men at-arms
and the raw levies, ill organized and ill paid, of the king of
France; and, in a word, the English were soon masters of
almost the whole country between the Garonne and the
Charente. Under such happy auspices 'Edward III. arrived
on the 7th of July, 1345, at the port of Ecluse (Sluys), anxious
to put himself in concert with the Flemings touching the
campaign he proposed to commence before long in the north
of France. Artevelde, with the consuls of Bruges and Ypres,
was awaiting him there. According to some historians
Edward invited them aboard of his galley, and represented to
them that the time had come for renouncing imperfect re
solves and half-measures; told them that their count, Louis
of Flanders, and his ancestors had always ignored and at-

78 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. rs.

tacked their liberties, and that the best thing they could do
would be to sever their connection with a house they could
not trust ; and offered them for their chieftain his own son,
the young prince of Wales, to whom he would give the title
of duke of Flanders. According to other historians it was not
King Edward, but Artevelde himself, who took the initiative
in this proposition. The latter had for some time past felt his
own dominion in Flanders attacked and shaken ; and he had
been confronted, in his own native city, by declared enemies
who had all but come to blows with his own partisans. The
different industrial corporations of Ghent were no longer at
one amongst themselves ; the weavers had quarrelled with the
fullers. Division was likewise reaching a great height
amongst the Flemish towns. The burghers of Poperinghe
had refused to continue recognizing the privileges of those of
Ypres ; and the* Ypres men, enraged, had taken up arms, and,
after a sanguinary melley, had forced the folks of Poperinghe
to give in. Then the Ypres men, proud of their triumph, had
gone and broken the weavers' machinery at Bailleul and in
some other towns. Artevelde, constrained to take part in
these petty civil wars, had been led on to greater and 'greater
abuse, in his own city itself, of his municipal despotism
already grown hateful to many of his fellow-citizens.
Whether he himself proposed to shake off the yoke of Count
Louis of Flanders and take for duke the prince of Wales, or
merely accepted King Edward's proposal, he set resolutely to
work to get it carried. The most able men, swayed by their
own passions and the growing necessities of the struggle -in
which they may be engaged, soon forget their first intentions
and ignore their new perils. The consuls of Bruges and
Ypres, present with Artevelde at his interview with King
Edward in the port of Ecluse (Sluys), answered that "they
could not decide so great a matter unless the whole com
munity of Flanders should agree thereto," and so returned to
their cities. Artevelde followed them thither and succeeded
in getting the proposed resolution adopted by the people of
Ypres and Bruges. But when he returned to Ghent, on the
24th of July, 1345, "those in the city who knew of his
coming," says Froissart, "had assembled in the street where
by he must ride to his hostel. So soon as they saw him they
began to mutter, saying, 'There goes he who is too much
master, and would fain do with the countship of Flanders
according to his own will; which cannot be borne/ It had,

CH. xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 79

besides this, been spread about the city that James van Arte
velde had secretly sent to England the great treasure of
Flanders which he had been collecting for the space of the
nine years and more during which he had held the govern.'
ment. This was a matter which did greatly vex and incense
them of Ghent. As James van Artevelde rode along the
street he soon perceived that there was something fresh
against him, for those who were wont to bow down and take
off their caps to him turned him a cold shoulder, and went
back into their houses. Then he began to be afraid ; and so
soon as he had dismounted at his house he had all the doors
and windows shut and barred. Scarcely had his varlets done
so when the street in which he lived was covered, front and
back, with folk, and chiefly small crafts-folk. His hostel was
surrounded and beset, front and back, and broken into by
force. Those within defended themselves a long while and
overthrew and wounded many; but at last they could not
hold out, for they were so closely assailed that nearly three-
quarters of the city were at this assault. When Artevelde
saw the efforts a-making and how hotly he was pressed he
came to a window over the street, and began to abase himself,
and say with much fine language, ' Good folks, what want ye?
What is it that doth move ye? Wherefore are ye so vexed at
me? In what way can I have angered ye? Tell me, and I
will mend it according to your wishes. ' Then all those who
had heard him answered with one voice, ' We would have an
account of the great treasure of Flanders which you have sent
to England without right or re?,son.' Artevelde answered full
softly, * Of a surety, sirs, I have never taken a denier from
the treasury of Flanders; go ye back quietly home, I pray
you, and come again to-morrow morning; I shall be so well
prepared to render you a good account that, according to
reason, it cannot but content ye.' ' Nay, nay,1 they answered
with one voice, * but we would have it at once ; you shall not
escape us so ; we do not know of a verity that you have taken
it out and sent it away to England, without our wit; for
which cause you must needs die.7 When Artevelde heard this
word he began to weep right piteously, and said, 'Sirs, ye
have made me what I am, and ye did swear to me aforetime
that ye would guard and defend me against all men ; and now
ye would kill me, and without a cause. Ye can do so an if it
please you, for I am but one single man against ye all, with-
out any defence. Think hereon, for God's sake, and look back

80 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xx

to bygone times. Consider the great courtesies and services
that I have done ye. Know ye not how all trade had perished
in this country? It was I who raised it up again. After
wards I governed ye in peace so great that, during the time of
my government, ye have had every thing to your wish,
grains, wools, and all sorts of merchandise, wherewith ye are
well provided and in good case.' Then they began to shout,
1 Come down, and preach not to us from such a height ; we
would have account and reckoning of the great treasure of
Flanders which you have too long had under control without
rendering an account, which it appertaineth not to any officer
to do.' When Artevelde saw that they would not cool down
and would not restrain themselves, he closed the window, and
bethought him that he would escape by the back and get him
gone to a church adjoining his hostel; but his hostel was
already burst open and broken into behind, and there were
more than four hundred persons who were all anxious to
seize him. At last he was caught amongst them, and killed
on the spot without mercy. A weaver, called Thomas Denis,
gave him his death-blow. This was the end of Artevelde, who
in his time was so great a master in Flanders. Poor folk ex
alted him at first, and wicked folk slew him at the last. "

It was a great loss for King Edward. Under Van Arte-
velde's bold dominance, and in consequence of his alliance
with England, the warlike renown of Flanders had made some
noise in Europe, to such an extent that Petrarch exclaimed,
"List to the sounds, still indistinct, that reach us from the
world of the West; Flanders is plunged in ceasless war; all
the country stretching from the restless Ocean to the Latin
Alps is rushing forth to arms. Would to Heaven that there
might come to us some gleams of salvation from thence ! O
Italy, poor fatherland, thou prey to sufferings without relief,
thou who wast wont with thy deeds of arms to trouble the
peace of the world, now art thou motionless when the fate of
the world hangs on the chances of battle!" The Flemings
spared no effort to re-assure the king of England. Their en
voys went to Westminster to deplore the murder of Van
Artevelde, and tried to persuade Edward that his policy
would be perpetuated throughout their cities, and "to such
purpose," say Froissart, " that in the end the king was fairly
content with the Flemings and they with him, and between
them the death of James van Artevelde was little by little
forgotten." Edward, however, waa so much affected by it

OH. «.] THB HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 81

that he required a whole year before he could resume with
any confidence his projects of war ; and it was not until the
2nd of July, 1346, that he embarked at Southampton, taking
with him, besides his son the prince of Wales, hardly sixteen
years of age, an army which comprised, according to Frois-
sart, seven earls, more than thirty-five barons, a great number
of knights, four thousand men-at-arms, ten thousand English
archers, six thousand Irish and twelve thousand Welsh
infantry, in all something more than thirty-two thousand
men, troops even more formidable for their discipline and
experience of war than for their numbers. When they were
out at sea none knew, not even the king himself, for what
point of the Continent they were to make, for the south or
the north, for Aquitaine or Normandy. "Sir," said Godfrey
d'Harcourt, who had become one of the king's most trusted
counsellors, "the country of Normandy is one of the fattest
m the world, and I promise you, at the risk of my head, that
if you put in there you shall take possession ot land at your
good pleasure, for the folk there never were armed and all
the flower of their chivalry is now at Aiguillon with tneii
duke ; for certain, we shall find there gold, silver, victual, and
all other good things in great abundance. " Edward adopted
this advice; and, on the 12th of July, 1346, his fleet anchored
before the peninsula of Cotentin at Cape la Hogue. Whilst
disembarking, at the very first step he made on shore, the
king fell "so roughly," says Froissart, "that blood spurted
from his nose. 'Sir,7 said his knights to him, 'go back to
your ship, and come not now to land, for here is an ill sign for
you.' ' Nay, verily,' quoth the king full roundly, * it is a right
good sign for me, since the land doth desire me.' " Caesar did
and said much the same on disembarking in Africa, and
William the Conqueror on landing in England. In spite of
contemporary accounts there is a doubt about the authen
ticity of these striking expressions which became favorite^
and crop up again on all similar occasions.

For a month Edward marched his army over Normandy
"finding on his road," says Froissart, "the country fat and
plenteous in every thing, the garners full of corn, the houses
full of ar manner of riches, carriages, waggons and horses,
swine, ewes, wethers, and the finest oxen in the world." He
took and plundered on his way Barfleur, Cherbourg, Valognes,
Carentan, and St. L6. When, on the 26th of July, he arrived
before Caen, " a city bigger than any in England save London.

82 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [OH. XT.

and full of all kinds of merchandise, of rich burghers, of noble
dames, and of fine churches," the population attempted to
resist. Philip had sent to them the constable, Eaoul d'Eu, and
the count of Tancarville ; but, after three days of petty fight
ing around the city and even in the streets themselves, Ed
ward became master of it, and, on the entreaty it is said of
Godfrey d'Harcourt, exempted it from pillage. Continuing
his march, he occupied Louviers, Vernon, Verneuil, Mantes,
Leulan, and Poissy, where he took up his quarters in the old
residence of King Kobert ; and thence his troops advanced and
spread themselves as far as Ruel, Neuilly, Boulogne, St. Cloud,
Bourg-la-Reine and almost to the gates of Paris, whence could
be seen "the fire and smoke from burning villages." " We
ourselves," says a contemporary chronicler, " saw these things ;
and it was a great dishonor that in the midst of the kingdom
of France the king of England should squander, spoil and con
sume the king's wines and other goods. " Great was the con
sternation at Paris. And it was redoubled when Philip gave
orders for the demolition of the houses built along by the walls
of circumvallation, on the ground that they embarrassed the
defence. The people believed that they were on the eve of
a siege. The order was revoked ; but the feeling became even
more intense when it was known that the king was getting
ready to start for St. Denis, where his principle allies, the
king of Bohemia, the dukes of Hainault and of Lorraine,
the counts of Flanders and of Blois, " and a very great array
of baronry and chivalry" were already assembled. " Ah ! dear
sir and noble king," cried the burghers of Paris as they came to
Philip and threw themselves on their knees before him, " what
would you do? Would you thus leave your good city of Pans!
Your enemies are already within two leagues, and will soon be
in our city when they know that you are gone ; and we have
and shall have none to defend us against them. Sir, may it
please you to remain and watch over your good city." "My
good people," answered the king, "have ye no fear; the Eng
lish shall come no nigher to you ; 1 am away to St. Dems to
my men-at-arms, for I mean to ride against these English, an d
fight them, in such fashion as I may " Philip recalled in all
haste his troops from Aquitame, commanded the burgher-
forces to assemble, and gave them, as he had (given all his
allies, St. Denis for the rallying-point. At signt of so many
great lords and all sorts of men of war flocking together from
all points the Parisians took fresh courage. "For many a

CH. xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 83

long day there had not been seen at St. Denis a king of France
in arms and fully prepared for battle."

Edward began to be afraid of having pushed too far forward
and of finding himself endangered in the heart of France, con
fronted by an army which would soon be stronger than his
own. Some chronicles say that Philip, in his turn, sent a
challenge either for single combat or for a battle on a fixed
day, in a place assigned, and that Edward, in his turn also,
declined the proposition he had but lately made to his rival.
It appears, further, that at the moment of commencing his
retreat away from Paris he tried ringing the changes on Philip
with respect to the line he intended to take, and that Philip
was led to believe that the English army would fall back in a
westerly direction, by Orleans and Tours, whereas it marched
northward, where Edward flattered himself he would find
partisans, counting especially on the help of the Flemings who,
in fulfilment of their promise, had already advanced as far as
Bethune to support him. Philip was soon better informed and
moved with all his army into Picardy in pursuit of the English
army, which was in a hurry to reach and cross the Somme and
so continue its march northward. It was more than once forced
to fight on its march with the people of the towns and country
through which it was passing; provisions were beginning to
fall short ; and Edward sent his two marshals, the earl of War
wick, and Godfrey d'Harcourt, to discover where it was prac
ticable to cross the river, which at this season of the year and
so near its mouth was both broad and deep. They returned
without having any satisfactory information to report ; * * where'
upon," says Froissart, " the king was not more joyous or less
pensive, and began to fall into a great melancholy." He had
halted three or four days at Airaines, some few leagues from
Amiens, whither the king of France had arrived in pursuit
with an army, it is said, more than a hundred thousand
strong. Philip learned through his scouts that the king of Eng
land would evacuate Airaines the next morning, and ride to
Abbeville in hopes of finding some means of getting over the
Somme. Phillip immediately ordered a Norman baron, Gode-
mardu Fay, to go with a body of troops and guard the ford of
Blanche-Tache, below Abbeville, the only point at which, it
was said, the English could cross the river; and on the same
day he himself moved with the bulk of his army from Amiens
on Airaines. There he arrived about mid-day, some few hours
after that the king of England had departed with suchprecipita-

84 HISTORY OF FRANOB. [CH. n.

tion that the French found in it " great store of provisions, meat
ready spitted, bread and pastry in the oven, wines in barrel^
and many tables which the English had left ready set and laid
out." "Sir," said Philip's officers to him, as soon as he was at
Airaines, "rest you here and wait for your barons and their
folk, for the English cannot escape you." It was concluded,
in point of fact, that Edward and his troops, not being able to
cross the Somme, would find themselves hemmed in between
the French army and the strong places of Abbeville, St. Va'
lery, and Le Crotoi, in the most evil case and perilous position
possible. But Edward, on arriving at the little town of Oise-
mont, hard by the Somme, set out in person in quest of the
ford he was so anxious to discover. He sent for some prisoners
he had made in the country, and said to them " right courte
ously," according to Froissart, " ' Is there here any man who
knows of a passage below Abbeville, whereby we and our army
might cross the river without peril? ' And a varlet from a
neighboring mill, whose name history has preserved as that of
a traitor, G-obin Agace, said to the king, ' Sir, I do promise you,
at the risk of my head, that I will guide you to such a spot,
where you shall cross the river Sornme without peril, you and
your army.' * Comrade,' said the king to him, ' if I find true
that which thou tellest us, I will set thee free from thy prison,
thee and all thy fellows for love of thee, and I will cause to be
given to thee a hundred golden nobles and a good stallion.' n
The varlet had told the truth ; the ford was found at the spot
called Blanche-Tache, whither Philip had sent Godemar du Fay
with a few thousand men to guard it. A battle took place ;
but the two marshals of England, unfurling their banners in
the name of God and St. George, and having with them the
most valiant and best mounted, threw themselves into the
water at full gallop, and there, in the river, was done many
a deed of battle, and many a man was laid low on one side and
the other, for Sir Godemar and his comrades did valiantly de
fend the passage ; but at last the English got across, and moved
forward into the fields as fast as ever they landed. When Sir
Godemar saw the mishap, he made off as quickly as he could,
and so did a many of his comrades." The king of Erance,
when he heard the news, was very wroth, "for he had good
hope of finding the English on the Somme and fighting them
there. 'What is it right to do now?' asked Philip of his
marshals, * Sir/ answered they, 'you cannot now cross in
pursuit of the English, for the tide is already up.'" Philip

CH. xx.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 85

went disconsolate to lie at Abbeville, whither all his men fol
lowed him Had he been as watchful as Edward was and had
he, instead of halting at Airaines "by the ready-set tables
which the English had left," marched at once in pursuit of
them, perhaps he would have caught and beaten them on the
left bank of the Somme, before they could cross and take up
position on the other side. This was the first striking instance
of that extreme inequality between the two kings in point of
ability and energy which was before long to produce results so
fatal for Philip.

When Edward, after passing the Somme, had arrived near
Crecy, five leagues from Abbeville, in the countship of Pon-
thieu which had formed part of his mother Isabel's dowry,
u Halt we here," said he to his marshals ; " I will go no farther
till I have seen the enemy ; I am on my mother's rightful in
heritance which was given her on her marriage ; I will defend
it against; mine adversary, Philip of Valois;' and he rested
in the open fields, he and all his men, and made his marshals
mark well the ground where they would set their battle in
array." Philip, on his side, had moved to Abbeville, where
all his men came and joined him, and whence he sent out
scouts " to learn the truth about the English. When he knew
that they were resting in the open fields near Cre"cy and
showed that they were awaiting their enemies, the king of
France was very joyful, and said that, please God, they should
fight him on the morrow [the day after Friday, Aug. 25,
1346]. He that day bade to supper all the high-born princes
who were at Abbeville. They were all in great spirits and had
great talk of arms, and after supper the king prayed all the
lords to be all of them, one toward another, friendly and
courteous, without envy, hatred, and pride, and every one
made him a promise thereof. On the same day of Friday the
king of England also gave a supper to the earls and barons of
his army, made them great cheer, and then sent them away to
rest, which they did. When all the company had gone, he
entered into his oratory, and fell on his knees before the altar,
praying devoutly that God would permit him on the morrow,
if he should fight, to come out of the business with honor;
after which, about midnight, he went and laid down. On the
morrow he rose pretty early, for good reason, heard masa
with the prince of Wales, his son, and both of them com
municated. The majority of his men confessed and put them
selves in good case. After mass the king commanded all to

86 HISTORY OF FEANOK [CH. rx

get. on their arms and take their places in the field according
as he had assigned them the day before." Edward had divided
his army into three bodies; he had put the first, forming the
van, under the orders of the young prince of Wales, having
about him the best and most tried warriors ; the second had
for commanders earls and t>arons in whom the king had con
fidence ; and the third, the reserve, he commanded in person.
Having thus made his arrangements, Edward, mounted on a
little palfrey, with a white staff in his hand and his marshals
in his train, rode at a foot-pace from rank to rank, exhorting
all his men, officers and privates, to stoutly defend his right
and do their duty; and "he said these words to them," says
Froissart, " with so bright a smile and so joyous a mien that
whoso had before been disheartened felt rehearted on seeing
and hearing him." Having finished his ride Edward went
back to his own division, giving orders for all his folk to eat
their fill and drink one draught : which they did. ' * And then
they sat down all of them on the ground, with their head
pieces and their bows in front of them, resting themselves in
order to be more fresh and cool when the enemy should come."
Philip also set himself in motion on Saturday, the 26th of
August, and, after having heard mass, marched out from
Abbeville with all his barons. " There was so great a throng
of men-at-arms there," says Froissart, " that it were a marvel
to think on, and the king rode mightly gently to wait for all
his folk." When they were two leagues from Abbeville, one
of them that were with him said, * ' Sir, it were well to put
your lines in order of battle and to send three or four of your
knights to ride forward and observe the enemy and in what
condition they be." So four knights pushed forward to within
sight of the English, and, returning immediately to the king,
whom they could not approach without breaking the host that
encompassed him, they said by the mouth of one of them,
" Know, sir, that the English be halted, well and regularly, in
three lines of battle, and show no sign of meaning to fly, but
await your coming. For my part, my counsel is that you halt
all your men, and rest them in the fields throughout this day.
Before the hindermost can come up, and before your lines of
battle are set in order, it will be late ; your men will be tired
and in disarray ; and you will find the enemy cool and fresh.
To-morrow morning you will be better able to dispose your
men and determine in what quarter it will be expedient to
attack the enemy. Sure may you be that they will await

OH. xx.] TEE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 87

you." This counsel was well pleasing to the king of France,
and he commanded that thus it should be. "The two
marshals rode one to the front and the other to the rear
with orders to the bannerets: * Halt banners, by command of
the king, in the name of God and St. Denis P At this order
those who were foremost halted, but not those who were
hindermost, continuing to ride forward and saying that they
would not halt until there were as much to the front as the
foremost were. Neither the king nor his marshals could get
the mastery of their men, for there was so goodly a number of
great lords that each was minded to show his own might.
There was, besides, in the fields, so goodly a number of com
mon people that all the roads between Abbeville and Crecy
were covered with them ; and when these folk thought them
selves near the enemy they drew their swords, shouting,
4 Death ! death I ' And not a soul did they see."

" When the English saw the French approaching they rose
up in fine order and ranged themselves in their lines of battle,
that of the prince of Wales right in front, and the earls of
Northampton and Arundel, who commaded the second, took
up their place on the wing, right orderly and all ready to sup
port the prince, if need should be. Well, the lords, kings,
dukes, counts and barons of the French came not up all to
gether, but one in front and another behind, without plan or
orderliness. When King Philip arrived at the spot where the
English were thus halted, and saw them, the blood boiled with
in him, for he hated them, and he said to his marshals, ' Let
our Genoese pass to the front and begin the battle, in the name
of God and St. Denis.' There were there fifteen thousand of
these said Genoese bowmen; but they were sore tired with
going a-f oot that day more more than six leagues and fully
armed, and they said to their commanders that they were not
prepared to do any great feat of battle. ' To be saddled with
such a scum as this that fails you in the hour of need I ' said
the duke d'Alencon on hearing those words. Whilst the
Genoese were holding back, there fell from heaven a rain,
heavy and thick, with thunder and lightning very mighty and
terrible. Before long, however, the air began to clear and the
sun to shine. The French had it right in their eyes aid the
English at their backs. When the Genoese had recovered
themselves and got together they advanced upon the English
with loud shouts so as to strike dismay ; but the English kept
quite quiet and showed no sign of it. Then the Genoese ben*

88 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xx,

their cross-bows and began to shoot. The English, making
one step forward, let fly their arrows, which came down so
thick upon the Genoese that it looked like a fall of snow.
The Genoese, galled ond discomfited, began to fall back. Be
tween them and. the main body of the French was a great
hedge of men-at-arms who were watching their proceedings.
When the king of France saw his bowmen thus in disorder he
shouted to the men-at-arms, ' Up now and slay all this scum,
for it blocks our way and hinders us getting forward.' " Then
the French, on every side, struck out at the Genoese, at whom
the English archers continued to shoot.

"Thus began the battle between Broye and Crecy, at the
hour of vespers." The French, as they came up, were already
tired and in great disorder: "howbeit so many valiant men
and good knights kept ever riding forward for their honor's
sake and preferred rather to die than that a base flight should
be cast in their teeth." A fierce combat took place between
them and the division of the prince of Wales. Thither pene
trated the count d'Alengon and the count of Flanders with
their followers, round the flank of the English archers ; and
the king of France, who was foaming with displeasure and
wrath, rode forward to join his brother d'Alengon, but there
was so great a hedge of archers and men-at-arms mingled to
gether that he could never get past. Thomas of Norwich, a
knight serving under the prince of Wales, was sent to the king
of England to ask him for help. " ' Sir Thomas,' said the king,
* is my son dead or unhorsed or so wounded that he cannot
help himself?' * Not, so, my lord, please God ; but he is fight
ing against great odds and is like to have need of your help.*
' Sir Thomas,' replied the king, ' return to them who sent you,
and tell them from me not to send for me, whatever chance
befall them, so long as my son is alive, and tell them that I bid
them let the lad win his spurs ; for I wish, if God so deem, that
the day should be his, and the honor thereof remain to him
and to those to whom I have given in his charge.' The knight
returned with this answer to his chiefs; and it encouraged
them greatly, and they repented within themselves for that
they had sent him to the king." Warlike ardor, if not ability
and prudence, was the same on both sides. Philip's faithful
ally, John of Luxembourg, king of Bohemia, had come thither,
blind as he was, with his son Charles and his knights; and
when he knew that the battle had begun he asked those who
were near him how it was going on. " * My lord,' they said,

en. rx.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 89

* Genoese are discomfited and the king has given orders to
slay them all ; and all the while between our folk and them
there is so great disorder that they stumble one over another
and hinder us greatly.' 'Ha!1 said the king; 'that is an ill
sign for us; where is Sir Charles, my son?' 'My lord, we
know not ; we have reason to believe that he is elsewhere in
the fight.' ' Sirs,' replied the old king; ' ye are my liegemen,
my friends and my comrades ; I pray you and require you to
lead me so far to the front in the work of this day that I may
strike a blow with my sword ; it shall not be said that I came
nither to do naught.' So his train, who loved his honor and
their own advancement," says Froissart, "did his bidding.
For to acquit themselves' of their duty and that they might not
lose him in the throng they tied themselves all together by the
reins of their horses and set the king, their lord, right in front
that he might the better accomplish his desire, and thus they
bore down on the enemy. And the king went so far forward
that he struck a good blow, yea three and four ; and so did all
those who were with him. And they served him so well and
charged so well forward upon the English, that all fell there
and were found next day on the spot around their lord, and
their horses tied together."

"The king of France, " continues Froissart, "had great an
guish at heart when he saw his men thus discomfited and fall
ing one after another before a handful of folk as the English
were. He asked counsel of Sir John of Hainault who was near
him and who said to him, ' Truly, sir, I can give you no better
counsel than that you should withdraw and place yourself in
safety, for I see no remedy here. It will soon be late; and
then you would be as likely to ride upon your enemies as
amongst your friends, and so be lost.' Late in the evening, at
nightfall, King Philip left the field with a heavy heart— and
for good cause; he had just five barons with him and no morel
He rode, quite broken-hearted, to the castle of Broye. When
he came to the gate, he found it shut and the bridge drawn up,
for it was fully night and was very dark and thick. The king
had the castellan summoned, who came forward on the battle
ments and cried aloud, ' Who's there? who knocks at such an
hour? ' ' Open, castellan,' said Philip : ' it is the unhappy king
of France.' The castellan went out as soon as he recognized
the voice of the king of France; and he well knew already
that they had been discomfited, from some fugitives who had
passed at the foot of the castle. He let down the bridge and

90 BISTORT OF FRANCE. fan. xx.

opened the gate. Then the king, with his following, went in,
and remained there up to midnight, for the king did not care
to stay and shut himself up therein. He drank a draught and
so did they who were with him ; then they mounted to horse,
took guides to conduct them and rode in such wise that at
break of day they entered the good city of Amiens. There
the king halted, took up his quarters in an abbey, and said
that he would go no farther until he knew the truth about
his men, which of them were left on the field and which had
escaped. "

Whilst Philip, with all speed, was on the road back to Paris
with his army as disheartened as its king, and more disorderly
in retreat than it had been in battle, Edward was hastening,
with ardor and intelligence, to reap the fruits of his victory.
In the difficult war of conquests he had undertaken, what was
clearly of most importance to him was to possess on the coast
of France, as near as possible to England, a place which he
might make, in his operations by land and sea, a point of ar
rival and departure, of occupancy, of provisioning and of secure
refuge. Calais exactly fulfilled these conditions. It was a
natural harbor, protected, for many centuries past, by two
huge towers, of which one, it is said, was built by the Emperor
Caligula and the other by Charlemagne ; it had been deepened
and improved, at the end of the tenth century, by Baldwin IV.,
count of Flanders, and in the thirteenth by Philip of France,
called Toughskin (Hurepel), count of Boulogne; and, in the
fourteenth, it had become an important city, surrounded by a
strong wall of circumvallation and having erected in its midst
a huge keep, furnished with bastions and towers, which was
called the Castle. On arriving before the place, September 3d,
1346, Edward " immediately had built all round it," says Frois-
sart, "houses and dwelling-places of solid carpentry and ar
ranged in streets as if he were to remain there for ten or twelve
years, for his intention was not to leave it winter or summer,
whatever time and whatever trouble he must spend and take.
He called this new town Villeneuve la Hardie ; and he had
therein all things necessary for an army, and more too, as a
place appointed for the holding of a market on Wednesday and
Saturday ; and therein were mercers' shops and butchers' shops
and stores for the sale of cloth and bread and all other neces
saries. King Edward did not have the city of Calais assaulted
by his men, well knowing that he would lose his pains, but
said he would starve it out, however long a time it might cos*

CH. xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 91

him, if Zing Philip of France did not come to fight him again,
and raise the siege."

Calais had for its governor John de Vienne, a valiant and
faithful Burgundian knight, "the which, seeing," says Frois-
eart, "that the king of England was making every sacrifice to
keep up the siege, ordered that all sorts of small folk, who had
no provisions, should quit the city without further notice.
They went forth, on a Wednesday morning, men, women, and
children, more than seventeen hundred of fnern, and passed
through King Edward's army. They were asked why they
were leaving ; and they answered, because they had no means
of living. Then the king permitted them to pass and caused to
be given to all of them, male and female, a hearty dinner and
after dinner two shillings a-piece, the which grace was com
mended as very handsome ; and so indeed it was. " Edward
probably hoped that his generosity would produce, in the town
itself which remained in a state of siege, a favoraole impres
sion ; but he had to do with a population ardently warlike and
patriotic, burghers as well as knights. They endured for
eleven months all the sufferings arising from isolation and
famine ; though, from time to time, fishermen and seamen in
their neighborhood, and amongst others two seamen of Abbe
ville, the names of whom have been preserved in history,
Marant and Mestriel, succeeded in getting victuals into them.
The King of France made two attempts to relieve them. On
the 20th of May, 1347, he assembled his troops at Amiens ; but
they were not ready to march till about the middle of July,
and as long before as the 23d of June a French fleet of ten gal
leys and thirty-five transports had been driven oft by the
English. John de Vienne wrote to Philip, " Everything has
been eaten, cats, dogs, and horses, and we can no longer find
victual in the town unless we eat human flesh. . „ If we have
not speedy succour, we will issue forth from the town to fight,
whether to live or die, for we would rather die honorably in
the field than eat one another. . . If a remedy be not soon ap
plied, you will never more have letter from me, and the town
will be lost as well as we who are in it. May our Lord grant
you a happy life and a long, and put you in such a disposition
that, if we die for your sake, you may settle the account there
for with our heirs I " On the 27th of July Philip arrived in
person before Calais. If Froissart can be trusted, uhe had
with him full 200,000 men, and these French rode up with ban
ners fl> ing as if to fight, and it was a fine sight to see such

92 BISTORT OF FRANCS. [CH. xx.

puisftant array ; and so when they of Calais who were on the
walls saw them appear and their banners floating on the breeze
they had great joy, and believed that they were going to be
soon delivered ! But when they saw camping and tenting going
forward they were more angered than before, for it seemed to
them an evil sign." The marshals of France went about every
where looking for a passage, and they reported that it was ne
where possible to open a road without exposing the army to
loss, so well all the approaches to the place, by sea and land,
were guarded by the English. The pope's two legates who had
accompanied King Philip tried in vain to open negotiations.
Philip sent four knights to the king of England to urge him to
appoint a place where a battle might be fought without advan
tage on either side; but "sirs," answered, "I have been here
nigh upon a year, and have been at heavy charges by it ; and
having done so much that before long I shall be master of
Calais I will by no means retard my conquest which I have so
much desired. Let mine adversary and his people find out a
way, as they please, to fight me."

Other testimony would have us believe that Edward accepted
Philip's challenge, and that it was the king of France who
raised fresh difficulties in consequence of which the proposed
battle did not take place. Froissart's account, however, seems
the more truthlike in itself and more in accordance with the
totality of facts. However that may be, whether it were act
ual powerlessness or want of spirit both on the part of the
French army and of the king; Philip, on the second of August,
1347, took the road back to Amiens and dismissed all those who
had gone with him, men-at-arms and common folk.

When the people of Calais saw that all hope of a rescue had
slipped from them, they held a council, resigned themselves to
offer submission to the king of England rather than die of hun
ger, and begged their governor, John de Vienne, to enter into
negotiations for that purpose with the besiegers. Walter de
Manny, instructed by Edward to reply to these overtures, said
to John de Vienne, "The king's intent is that ye put yourselves
at his free will to ransom or put to death such as it shall please
him; the people of Calais have caused him so great displeasure,
cost him so much money and lost him so many men that it is
not astonishing if that weighs heavily upon him." " Sir Wal
ter," answered John de Vienne, "it would be too hard a mat
ter for us if we were to consent to what you say. There are
within here but a small number of us knights and squires who

OH. xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 93

have loyally served our lord the king of France even as you
would serve yours in like case ; but we would suffer greater
evils than ever men have had to endure rather than consent
that the meanest 'prentice-boy or varlet of the town should
have other evil than the greatest of us. We pray you be
pleased to return to the king of England, and pray him to have
pity upon us; and you will do us courtesy," " By my faith,"
answered Walter de Manny, "I will do it willingly, Sir John;
and I would that, by God's help, the king might be pleased to
listen unto me." And the brave English knight reported to
the king the prayer of the French knights in Calais, saying,
" My lord, Sir John de Vienne told me that they were in very
sore extremity and famine, but that, rather than surrender all
to your will to live or die as it might please you, they would
sell themselves so dearly as never did men-at-arms." " I will
not do otherwise than I have said," answered the king. " My
lord," replied Walter, "you will perchance be wrong, for you
will give us a bad example-, if you should be pleased to send us
to defend any of your fortresses, we should of a surety not go
willingly if you have these people put to death, for thus would
they do to us in like case." These words caused Edward to re
flect ; and the greater part of the English barons came to the
aid of Walter de Manny. " Sirs," said the king, "I would not
be all alone against you all. Go, Walter, to them of Calais,
and say to the governor that the greatest grace they can find
in my sight is that six of the most notable burghers come forth
from their town bare-headed, bare-footed, with ropes round
their necks and with the keys of the town and castle in their
hands. With them I will do according to my will, and the
rest I will receive to mercy." " My lord," said Walter, " I will
do it willingly. " He returned to Calais, where John de Vienne
was awaiting him, and reported the king's decision. The gov
ernor immediately left the ramparts, went to the market-place,
and had the bell rung to assemble the people. At sound of the
bell men and women came hurrying up hungering for news,
as was natural for people so hard-pressed by famine that they
could not hold out any longer John de Vienne then repeated
to them what he had just been told, adding that there was no
other way and that they would have to make short answer.
On this they all fell a-weeping and crying out so bitterly that
no heart in the world, however hard, could have seen and
heard them without pity. Even John de Vienne shed tears.
Then rose up to hi* feet the richest burgher of the town Eus-

94 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xr.

tace de St. Pierre, who, at the former council, had been for
capitulation. "Sirs," said he, "it would be great pity to leave
this people to die, by famine or otherwise, when any remedy
can be found against it ; and he who should keep them from
such a mishap would find great favor in the eyes of our Lord.
I have great hope to find favor in the eyes of our Lord if I die
to save this people ; I would fain be the first herein and I will
willingly place myself, in my shirt and bare-headed and with
a rope round my neck, at the mercy of the king of England.1*
At this speech, men and women cast themselves at the feet of
Eustace de St. Pierre, weeping piteously. Another right-hon
orable burgher, who had great possessions and two beautiful
damsels for daughters, rose up and said that he would act com;
rade to Eustace de St. Pierre : his name was John d'Aire. Then,
for the third8 James de Visssnt, a rich man in personalty and
realty ; then his brother Petos3 de Vissant ; and then the fifth
and sixth, of whom none has told the names. On the 6th of
August, 1347, these six burghers, thus apparelled, with cords
round their necks and each with a bunch of the keys of the city
and of the castle, were conducted outside the gates by John de
Vienne who rode a small hackney, for he was in such ill plight
that he could not go a-f oot. He gave them up to Sir Walter,
who was awaiting him, and said to him, "As captain of Calais
I deliver to you, with the consent of the poor people of the
town, these six burghers who are, I swear to you, the most
honorable and notable in person, in fortune, and in ancestry,
in the town of Calais. I pray you be pleased to pray the king
of England that these good foPis be not put to death." "I
know not," answered De Manny, " what my lord the king may
mean to do with them ; but I promise you that I will do mine
ability." When Sir Walter brought in the six burghers in this
condition, King Edward was in his chamber with a great com
pany of earls, barons, and knights, As soon as he heard that
the folks of Calais were there as he had ordered, he went out
and stood in the open space before his hostel and all those lords
with him; and even Queen Philippa of England, who was with
child, followed the king her lord. He gazed most cruelly on
those six poor men, for he had his heart possessed with so much
rage that at first he could not speak. When he spoke, he com
manded them to be straightway beheaded. All the barons and
knights who were there prayed him to show them mercy0
" Gentle sir, "said Walter de Manny, "restrain your wrath;
you have renown for gentleness and nobleness; be pleased to

CH. xx.J THE HUNDRED YEAR& WAll 95

do nought whereby it may be diminished ; if you have not pity
on yonder folk, all others will say that it was great cruelty on
your part to put to death these six honorable burghers who of
their own free-will have put themselves at your mercy to save
the others." The king gnashed his teeth, saying, " Sir Walter,
hold your peace; let them fetch hither my headsman; the
people of Calais have been the death of so many of my men
that it is but meet that yon fellows die also." Then, with great
humility, the noble queen, who was very nigh her delivery,
threw herself on her knees at the feet of the king, saying, " Ahl
gentle sir, if, as you know, I have asked, nothing of you from
the time that I crossed the sea in great peril, I pray you hum
bly that as a special boon, for the sake of Holy Mary's Son and
for the love of me, you will please to have mercy on these six
men." The king did not speak at once, and fixed his eyes on
the 'good dame his wife, who was weeping piteously on her
knees. She softened his stern heart, for he would have been
loth to vex her in the state in which she was ; and he said to
her, "Ha! dame, I had much rather you had been elsewhere
than here ; but you pray me such prayers that I dare not re
fuse you, and though it irks me much to do so, there I I give
them up to you; do with them as you will." " Thanks, hearty
thanks, my lord," said the good queen. Then she rose up and
raised up the six burghers, had the ropes taken off their necks,
and took them with her to her chamber where she had fresh
clothes and dinner brought to them. Afterwards she gave
them six nobles a-piece and had them led out of the host in all
safety.

Edward was choleric and stern in his choler, but judicious
and politic. He had sense enough to comprehend the impres
sions exhibited around him and to take them into account.
He had yielded to the free-spoken representations of Walter
de Manny and to the soft entreaties of his royal wife. When
he was master of Calais, he did not suffer himself to be uiidei
any illusion as to the sentiments of the population he had con«
quered, and, without excluding the French from the town, he
took great care to mingle with them an English population.
He had allowed a free passage to the poor Calaisians driven
out by famine; he now fetched from London thirty-six
burghers of position and three hundred others of inferior
condition, with their wives and children, and he granted to
the town thus depeopled and repeopled all such municipal and
commercial privileges as were likely to attract new inhab»

* VOL. 2

96 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [OH. xx

tants thither. But, at the same time, he felt what renown
and importance a devotion like that of the six burghers of
Calais could not fail to confer upon such men, and not only
did he trouble himself to get them back to their own hearths,
but, on the 8th of October, 1347, two months after the sur
render of Calais, he gave Eustace de St Pierre a considerable
pension "on account of the good services he was to render in
in the town by maintaining good order there," and he re
instated him, him and his heirs, in possession of the properties
that had belonged to him. Eustace, more concerned for the
interests of his own town than for those of France, and being
more of a Calaisian burgher than a national patriot, showed
no hesitation, for all that appears, in accepting this new
fashion of serving his native city for which he had shown him
self so ready to die. He lived four years as a subject of the
king of England. At his death, which happened in 1351, his
heirs declared themselves faithful subjects of the king of
France and Edward confiscated away from them the posses
sions he had restored to their predecessor. Eustace de St.
Pierre's cousin and comrade in devotion to their native town,
John d'Aire, would not enter Calais again; his property was
confiscated, and his house, the finest, it is said, in the town,
was given by King Edward to Queen Philppa, who showed no
more hesitation in accepting it than Eustace in serving his new
king. Long-lived duicacy of sentiment and conduct was
rare in those rough and rude times than heroic bursts of
courage and devotion.

Philip of Valois tried to afford some consolation and supply
some remedy for the misfortune of the Calaisians banished
from their town. He secured to them exemption from certain
imposts no matter whither they removed, and the possession
of all property and inheritances that might fall to them, and
he promised to confer upon them all vacant offices which it
might suit them to fill. But it was not in his gifts to repair,
even superficially and in appearance, the evils he had not
known how to prevent or combat to any purpose. The outset of
his reign had been brilliant and prosperous ; but his victory at
Cassel over the Flemings brought more cry than wool. He
had vanity enough to flaunt it rather than wit enough to turn
it to account. He was a prince of courts and tournaments and
trips and galas, whether regal or plebeian; he was volatile,
imprudent, haughty and yet frivolous, brave without ability
and despotic without anything to show for it. The battle o!

CH. xx.] THE HUNDRED YEARS? WAR. 97

Cre'cy and the loss of Calais were reverses from which he
never even made a serious attempt to recover; he hastily con
cluded with Edward a truce, twice renewed, which served
only to consolidate the victor's successes. A calamity of
European extent came as an addition to the distresses of
France. From 1347 to 1349 a frightful disease, brought from
Egypt and Syria through the ports of Italy, and called the
black plague or the plague of Florence, ravaged Western
Europe, especially Provence and Languedoc, where it carried
off, they say, two-thirds o£ the inhabitants. Machiavelli and
Boccacio have described with all the force of their genius the
material and moral effects of this terrible plague. The court
of France suffered particularly from it, and the famous object
of Petrarch's tender sonnets, Laura de Noves, married to
Hugh de Sade, fell a victim to it at Avignon. When the
epidemic had well nigh disappeared, the survivors, men and
women, princes and subjects, returned passionately to their
pleasures and their galas; to mortality, says a contemporary
chronicler, succeeded a rage for marriage; and Philip of
Valois himself, now fifty-eight years of age, took for his
second wife Blanche of Navarre, who was only eighteen. She
was a sister of that young king of Navarre, Charles II., who
was soon to get the name of Charles the Bad, and to become
so dangerous an enemy for Philip's successors. Seven months
after his marriage and on the 22nd of August, 1350, Philip died
at Nogent-le-Roi in the Haute-Marne, strictly enjoining his son
John to maintain with vigor his well ascertained right to the
crown he wore, and leaving his people bowed down beneath a
weight "of extortions so heavy that the hike had never been
seen in the kingdom of France."

Only one happy event distinguished the close of this reign.
As early as 1343 Philip had treated, on a monetary basis, with
Humbert II., count and Dauphin of Vienness, for the cession
of that beautiful province to the crown of France after the
death of the then possessor. Humbert, an adventurous and
fantastic prince, plunged, in 1346, into a crusade against the
Turks, from which he returned in the following year without
having obtained any success. Tired of seeking adventures as
well as of reigning, he, on the 16th of July, 1349, before a
solemn assembly held at Lyons, abdicated his principality in
favor of Prince Charles of France, grandson of Pliilip of Valois
and afterwards Charles V. The new dauphin took the oath,
between the hands of the bishop of Grenoble, to maintain the

98 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xx.

liberties, franchises and privileges of the Dauphiny; and the
ex-dauphin, after having taken holy orders and passed succes
sively through the archbishopric of Rheims and the bishopric of
of Paris, both of which he found equally unpalatable, went to
die at Clermont in Auvergne, in a convent belonging to the
order of Dominicans, whose habit he had donned.

In the same year, on the 18th of April, 1349, Philip of Valois
bought of Jayme of Arragon, the last king of Majorca, for
120,000 golden crowns, the lordship and town of Montpellier,
thus trying to repair to some extent, for the kingdom of
France, the losses he had caused it.

His successor, John II., called the Good, on no other ground
than that he was gay, prodigal, credulous and devoted to his
favorites, did nothing but reproduce, with aggravations, the
faults and reverses of his father. He had hardly become king
when he witnessed the arrival in Paris of the constable of
France, Raoul, count of Eu and of Guines, whom Edward III.
had made prisoner at Caen, and who, after five years' captiv
ity, had just obtained, that is, purchased his liberty. Raoul
lost no time in hurrying to the side of the new king, by whom
he believed himself to be greatly beloved. John, as soon as he
perceived him, gave him a look, saying, ' ' Count, come this
way with me; I have to speak with you aside." " Right will
ingly, my lord." The king took him into an apartment, and
showing him a letter, asked, " Have you ever, count, seen this
letter any where but here?" The constable appeared as
tounded and troubled. "Ah! wicked traitor," said the king,
"you have well deserved death, and, by my father's soul, it
shall assuredly not miss you ; " and he sent him forthwith to
prison in the tower of the Louvre. "The lords and barons of
France were sadly astonished," says Froissart, "For they
held the couni, to be a good man and true, and they humbly
prayed the king that he would be pleased to say wherefore he
had imprisoned their cousin, so gentle a knight, who had
toiled so much and so much lost for him and for the kingdom.
But the king would not say any thing, save that he would
never sleep so long as the count of Guines was living; and he
had him secretly beheaded in the castle of Louvre, whether
rightly or wrongly; for which the king was greatly blamed,
behind his back, by many of the barons of high estate in the
kingdom of France and the dukes and counts of the border."
Two months after this execution, John gave the office of con
stable and a large portion of Count RaouTs property to his

CH. xx.] TEE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 99

favorite, Charles of Spain, a descendant of King Alphonso of
Castille and naturalized in France ; and he added thereto be
fore long some lands claimed by the king of Navarre, Charles
the Bad, a nickname which at eighteen years of age he had
already received from his Navarrese subjects, but which had
not prevented King John from giving him in marriage his
own daughter, Joan of France. From that moment, a deep
hatred sprang up between the king of Navarre and the favor
ite. The latter was sometimes disquieted thereby. "Fear
naught from my son of Navarre, " said John, 4 ' he durst not
vex you, for if he did, he would have no greater enemy than
myself." John did not yet know his son-in-law. Two years
later, in 1354, his favorite, Charles of Spain, arrived at Laigle
in Normandy. The king of Navarre, having notice thereof,
instructed one of his agents, the bastard de Mareuil, to go
with a troop of men-at-arms and surprise him in that town ;
and he himself remained outside the walls, awaiting the result
of his design. At break of day, he saw galloping up the bas
tard de Mareuil who shouted to him from afar, "'Tis done."
"What is done?" asked Charles. "He is dead," answered
Mareuil. King John's favorite had been surprised and mas
sacred in his bed., John burst out into threats, he swore he
would have vengeance, and made preparations for war against
his son-in-law. But the king of England promised his support
to the king of Navarre. Charles the Bad was a bold and able
intriguer; he levied troops and won over allies amongst the
lords ; dread of seeing the recommencement of war with Eng
land gained ground ; and amongst the people and even in the
king's council there was a cry of "Peace with the king of
Navarre ! " John took fright and pretended to give up his
ideas of vengeance ; he received his son-in-law, who thanked
him on bended knee. But the king gave him never a word.
The king of Navarre, uneasy but bold as ever, continued his
intrigues for obtaining partisans and for exciting troubles and
enmities against the king. " I will have no master in France
but myself," said John to his confidant: " I shall have no joy
so long as he is living." His eldest son, the young duke of
Normandy, who was at a later period Charles V., had con
tracted friendly relations with the king of Navarre. On the
16th of April, 1356, the two princes were together at a banquet
in the castle of Rouen, as well as the count d'Harcourt and
some other lords. All on a sudden King John, who had en
tered the castle by a postern with a troop of men-at-arms,

100 HISTO&r OF FRANCE. [CH. xx

strode abruptly into the hall, preceded by the marshal Arnoul
d'Audenham, who held a naked sword in his hand, and said,
" Let none stir, whatever he may see, unless he wish to fall by
this sword. " The king went up to the table ; and all rose as if to
do him reverence. John seized the king of Navarre roughly by
the arm, and drew him towards him, saying, "Get up, traitor,
thou art not worthy to sit at my son's table ; by my father's
soul I cannot think«of meat or drink so long as thou art living."
A servant of the king of Navarre, to defend his master, drew
his cutlass, and pointed it at the breast of the king of France,
who thrust him back, saying to his sergeants, " Take this fel
low and his master too." The king of Navarre dissolved in
humble protestations and repentant speeches over the assassin
ation of the constable Charles of Spain. "Go, traitor, go,"
answered John: " you will need to learn good rede or some in
famous trick to escape from me. " The young duke of Nor
mandy had thrown himself at the feet of the king his father,
crying, " Ah ! my lord, for God's sake have mercy ; you do me
dishonor; for what will be said of me, having prayed King
Charles and his barons to dine with me, if you do treat me
thus? It will be said that I betrayed them." "Hold your
peace, Charles," answered his father: "you know not all I
know." He gave orders for the instant removal of the king of
Navarre and afterwards of the count d'Harcourt and three
others of those present under arrest. " Rid us of these men,"
said he to the captain of the Ribalds, forming the soldiers of
his guard ; and the four prisoners were actually beheaded in
the kings presence, outside Rouen, in a field called the Field
of pardon. John was with great difficulty prevailed upon not
to mete out the same measure to the king of Navarre, who was
conducted first of all to Gaillard Castle, then to the tower of
the Louvre, and then to the prison of the Catelet: "and
there," says Froissart, "they put him to all sorts of discom
forts and fears, for every day and every night they gave him
to understand that his head would be cut off at such and such
an nour, or at such and such another he would be thrown into
the Seine .... whereupon he spoke so finely and so softly to
his keepers that they who were so entreating him by the com
mand of the king of France had great pity on him."

With such violence, such absence of all legal procedure, such
a mixture of deceptive indulgence and thoughtless brutality
did King John treat his son-in-law, his own daughter, some of
hi* principal barons, their relations, their friends, and the peo-

OH. xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 101

pie with whom they were in good credit. He compromised
more and more seriously every day his own safety and that of
his successor by vexing more and more without destroying his
most dangerous enemy. He showed no greater prudence or
ability in the government of his kingdom. Always in want of
money, because he spent it foolishly on galas or presents to his
favorites, he had recourse, for the purpose of procuring it, at
one time to the very worst of all financial expedients, debase
ment of the coinage ; at another, to disreputable imposts, such
as the tax upon salt and upon the sale of all kinds of merchan
dise. In the single year of 1352 the value of a silver mark
varied sixteen times, from 4 livres 10 sous to 18 livres. To meet
the requirements of his government and the greediness of his
courtiers John twice, in 1355 and 1356, convoked the states-
general, to the consideration of which we shall soon recur in
detail, and which did not refuse him their support ; but John
had not the wit either to make good use of the powers with
which he was furnished or to inspire the states-general with
that confidence which alone could decide them upon continu
ing their gifts. And, nevertheless, King John's necessities
were more evident and more urgent than ever : war with Eng
land had begun again.

The truth is that, in spite of the truce still existing, the Eng
lish, since the accession of King John, had at several points
resumed hostilities. The disorders and dissensions to which
France was a prey, the presumptuous and hare-brained in
capacity of her new king were for so ambitious and able a
prince as Edward III. very strong temptations. Nor did op
portunities for attack and chances of success fail him any more
than temptations. He found in France, amongst the grandees
of the kingdom and even at the king's court, men disposed to
desert the cause of the king and of France to serve a prince
who had more capacity and who pretended to claim the crown
of France as his lawful right. The feudal system lent itself to
ambiguous questions and doubts of conscience : a lord who had
two suzerains and who, rightly or wrongly, believed that he
had cause of complaint against one of them, was justified in
serving that one who could and would protect him. Personal
interest and subtle disputes soon make traitors ; and Edward
had the ability to discover them and win them over. The al
ternate outbursts and weaknesses of John in the case of those
whom he suspected ; the snares he laid for them ; the precipi
tancy and cruel violence with which he struck them down,

102 HISTORY OF FRANCE. fen. xx.

without form of trial and almost with his own hand, forbid
history to receive his suspicious and his forcible proceedings
as any kind of proof; but amongst those whom he accused
there were undoubtedly traitors to the king and to France.
There is one about whom there can be no doubt at all. As
early as 1351, amidst all his embroilments and all his reconcil
iations with his father-in-law, Charles the Bad, king of Na
varre, had concluded with Edward III. a secret treaty, where
by, in exchange for promises he received, he recognized his
title as king of France. In 1355 his treason burst forth. The
king of Navarre, who had gone for refuge to Avignon, un«
der the protection of Pope Clement VI., crossed France by
English Aquitaine, and went and landed at Cherbourg, which
he had an idea of throwing open to the king of England. He
once more entered into communications with King John, once
more obtained forgiveness from him, and for a while appeared
detached from his English alliance. But Edward III. had
openly resumed his hostile attitude; and he demanded that
Aquitaine and the countship of Ponthieu, detached from the
kingdom of France, should be ceded to him in full sovereignty,
and that Brittany should become all but independent. John
haughtily rejected these pretensions which were merely a pre-
tex for recommencing war. And it recommenced accordingly,
and the king of Navarre resumed his course of perfidy. He
had lands and castles in Normandy, which John put under
sequestration and ordered the officers commanding in them to
deliver up to him. Six of them, the commandants of the
castles of Cherbourg and Evreux amongst others, refused, be
lieving, no doubt, that in betraying France and her king, they
were remaining faithful to their own lord.

At several points in the kingdom, especially in the northern
provinces, the first-fruits of the war were not favorable for the
English. King Edward, who had landed at Calais with a body
of troops, made an unsuccessful campaign in Artois and Picardy
and was obliged to re-embark for England, falling back before
King John, whom he had at one time offered and at anothe*
refused to meet and fight at a spot agreed upon. But in tht
south-west and south of France, in 1355 and 1356, the prince ol
Wales at the head of a small picked army and with John
Chandos for comrade, victoriously overran Limousin, Pe"rigord.
Languedoc, Auvergne, Berry, and Poitou, ravaging the coun
try and plundering the towns into which he could force an
entrance and the environs of those that defended themselves

OH. xx.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 103

behind their walls. He met with scarcely any resistance, and
he was returning by way of Berry and Poitou back again to
Bordeaux when he heard that King John, starting from Nor
mandy with a large army, was advancing to give him battle.
John, in fact, with easy self-complacency and somewhat
proud of his petty successes against King Edward in Picardy,
had been in a hurry to move against the prince of Wales, in
hopes of forcing him also to re-embark for England. He was
at the head of forty or fifty thousand men, with his four sons,
twenty-six dukes or counts, and nearly all the baronage of
France ; and such was his confidence in this noble army, that
on crossing the Loire he dismissed the burgher forces, " which
was madness in him and in those who advised him," said even
his contemporaries. John, even more than his father Philip,
was a king of courts, ever surrounded by his nobility and
caring little for his people. Jealous of the order of the Garter
lately instituted by Edward III. in honor of the beautiful
countess of Salisbury, John had created in 1351, by way of
following suit, a brotherhood called Our Lady of the Noble
House or of the Star, the knights of which, to the number of
five hundred, had to swear that if they were forced to recoil
in a battle they would never yield to the enemy more than
four acres of ground, and would be slain rather than retreat.
John was destined to find out before long that neither numbers
nor bravery can supply the place of prudence, ability, and dis
cipline. When the two armies were close to one another on
the platform of Maupertuis, two leagues to the north of
Poitiers, two legates from the pope came hurrying up from
that town with instructions to negotiate peace between the
kings of France, England, and Navarre. John consented to
an armistice of twenty-four hours. The prince of Wales, see
ing himself cut off from Bordeaux by forces very much
superior to his own, for he had but eight or ten thousand men,
offered to restore to the king of France " all that he had con
quered this bout, both towns and castles, and all the prisoners
that he and his had taken, and to swear that, for seven whole
years, he would bear arms no more against the king of
France ;" but King John and his council would not accept any
thing of the sort, saying that " the prince and a hundred of
his knights must come and put themselves as prisoners in the
hands of the king of France." Neither the prince of Wales
nor Chandos had any hesitation in rejecting such a demand:
"God forbid," said Chandos, " that we should go without a

104 HISTORY OF FRANCE. \CR. xx.

fight ! If we be taken or discomfited by so many fine men-at-
arms and in so great a host we shall incur no blame; and if
the day be for us and fortune be pleased to consent thereto we
shall be the most honored folk in the world." The battle took
place on the 19th of September, 1356, in the morning. There
is no occasion to give the details of it here as was done but
lately in the case of Crecy; we should merely have to tell an
almost perfectly similar story. The three battles, which, from
the fourteenth to the fifteenth century were decisive as to the
fate of France, to wit, Cre*cy, on the 26th of August, 1346;
Poictiers, on the 19th of September, 1356 ; and Azincourt, on the
25th of October, 1415, considered as historical events, were all
alike, offering a spectacle of the same faults and the same re
verses brought about by the same causes. In all three, no mat
ter what was the difference in date, place, and persons engaged,
it was a case of undisciplined forces, without co-operation OP
order, and ill-directed by their commanders, advancing,
bravely and one after another, to get broken against a com
pact force under strict command and as docile as heroic.
From the battle of Poictiers we will cull but that glorious feat
which was peculiar to it, and which might be called as unfor
tunate as glorious if the captivity of King John had been a
misfortune for France. Nearly all his army had been beaten
and dispersed ; and three of his sons, with the eldest, Charles,
duke of Normandy, at their head, had left the field of bat
tle with the wreck of the divisions they commandedc John
still remained there with the knights of the Star, a band of
faithful knights from Picardy, Burgundy, Normandy, and
Poitou, his constable the duke of Artois, his standard-bearer
Geoffrey de Charny, and his youngest son Philip, a boy of
fourteen, who clung obstinately to his side, saying every in
stant, " Father, ware right! father, ware left I" The king was
surrounded by assailants, of whom some did and some did not
know Him and all of whom kept shouting, " Yield you! yield
you! else you die," The banner of France fell at his side; fop
Geoffrey de Charny was slain. Denis de Morbecque, a knight
of St. Omer, made his way up to the king, and said to him in
good French, " Sir, sir, I pray you, yield!'* "To whom shall
I yield me?" said John: "where is my cousin the prince of
Wales?" "Sir, yield you to me; I will bring you to him."
"Who are you I" "Denis de Morbecque, a knight of Artois;
I serve the king of England, not being able to live in the king-
dom of France, for I have lost all I possessed there.1* " I yield

OH. xx.] THE HUNDRED YEAEff WAR. 105

me to you," said John: and he gave his glove to the knight,
who led him away " in the midst of a great press, for every
one was dragging the king, saying, * I took him !' and he could
not get forward nor could my lord Philip, his young son. . . 0
The king said to them all, ' Sirs, conduct me courteously, and
quarrel no more together about the taking of me, for I am rich
and great enough to make every one of you rich.' " Here
upon, the two English marshals, the earl or Warwick and the
earl of Suffolk, " seeing from afar this throng, gave to their
steeds, and came up, asking, 'What is this yonder?' And
answer was made to them: 'It is the king of France who is
taken, and more than ten knights and squires would fain have
him.' Then the two barons broke through the throng by dint
of their horses, dismounted and bowed full low before the
king, who was very joyful at their coming, for they saved
him from great danger." A very little while afterwards the
two marshals " entered the pavillion of the prince of Wales,
and made him a present of the king of France; the which
present the prince could not but take kindly as a great and
noble one, and so truly he di'd, for he bowed full low before
the king, and received him as a king, properly and discreetly,
as he well knew how to«do. . . . When evening came the
prince of Wales gave a supper to the king of France and to my
lord Philip, his son, and to the greater part of the barons of
France who were prisoners. . . . And the prince would not
sit at the king's table, for all the king's entreaty, but awaited
as a serving-man at the king's table, bending the knee before
him, and saying, * Dear sir, be pleased not to put on eo -sad
a countenance because it hath not pleased God to consent
this day to your wishes, for assuredly my lord and father
will show you all the honor and friendship he shall be able,
and he will come to terms with you so reasonably that ye shall
remain good friends for ever."

Henceforth it was, fortunately, not on King J ohn or on
peace or war between him and the king of England that thf
fate of France depended.

106 BISTORT OF FRANCE. ICH.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE STATES-GENERAL OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY.

LET us turn back a little, in order to understand the govern
ment and position of King John before he engaged in the war
which so far as he was concerned ended with the battle of
Poitiers and imprisonment in England.

A valiant and loyal knight, but a frivolous, hare-brained,
thoughtless, prodigal, and obstinate as well as impetuous
prince, and even more incapable than Philip of Valois in the
practice of government, John, after having summoned at his
accession in 1351, a states-assembly concerning which we have
no explicit information left to us, tried for a space of four years
to suffice in himself for all the perils, difficulties and require
ments of the situation he had found bequeathed to him by his
father. For a space of four years, in order to get money, he
debased the coinage, confiscated the goods and securities of
foreign merchants, and stopped payment of his debts ; and he
went through several provinces, treating with local councils or
magistrates in order to obtain from them certain subsidies
which he purchased by granting them new privileges. He
hoped by his institution of the order of the Star to resuscitate
the chivalrous zeal of his nobility. All these means were vain
or insufficient. The defeat of Crecy and the loss of Calais had
caused discouragement in the kingdom and aroused many
doubts as to the issue of the war with England. Defection and
even treason brought trouble into the court, the councils, and
even the family of John. To get the better of them he at one
time heaped favors upon the men he feared, at another he had
them arrested, imprisoned, and even beheaded in his presence.
He gave his daughter Joan in marriage to Charles the Bad,
king of Navarre, and, some few months afterwards, Charles
himself, the real or presumed head of all the traitors, was
seized, thrown into prison and treated with extreme rigor, in
spite of the "Supplications of his wife, who vigorously took the
part of her husband against her father. After four years thus
consumed in fruitless endeavors, by turns violently and feebly
enforced, to reorganize an army and a treasury, and to pur
chase fidelity at any price or arbitrarily strike down treason.

OB. xxi.] FOURTEENTH CENTURY STATES-GENERAL. 107

John was obliged to recognize his powerlessness and to call to
his aid the French nation, still so imperfectly formed, by con
voking at Paris, for the 30th of November, 1355, the states-gen
eral of Langue d'oi'Z, that is, Northern France, separated by
the Dordogne and the Garonne from Langue d'oc, which had
its own assembly distinct. Auvergne belonged to Langue cFo'il. ,

It is certain that neither this assembly nor the king who con
voked it had any clear and fixed idea of what they were meet
ing together to do. The kingship was no longer competent, for
its own government and its own perils ; but it insisted none the
less, in principle, on its own all but unregulated and unlimited
power. The assembly did not claim for the country the right
of self-government, but it had a strong leaven of patriotic sen
timent and at the same time was very much discontented with
the king's government : it had equally at heart the defence of
France against England and against the abuses of the kingly
power. There was no notion of a social struggle and no syste
matic idea of political revolution ; a dangerous crisis and intol
erable sufferings constrained king and nation to come together
in order to make an attempt at an understanding and at a mu
tual exchange of the supports and the reliefs of which they
were in need.

On the 2nd of December, 1355, the three orders, the clergy,
the nobility and the deputies from the towns assembled at
Paris in the great hall of the Parliament. Peter de la Forest,
archbishop of Rouen and chancellor of France, asked them in
the king's name "to consult together about making him a sub
vention which should suffice for the expenses of the war," and
the king offered to "make a sound and durable coinage." The
tampering with tne coinage was the most pressing of the griev
ances for which the three orders solicited a remedy. They
declared that "they were ready to live and die with the king
and to put their bodies and what they had at his service ;" and
they demanded authority to deliberate together — which was
granted them. John de Craon, archbishop of Rheims ; Walter
de Brienne, duke of Athens; and Stephen Marcel, provost of
the tradesmen of Paris, were to report the result, as presi
dents, each of his own order. The session of the states lasted
not more than a week. They replied to the king "that they
would give him a subvention of 30,000 men-at-arms every
year," and, for their pay, they voted an impost of fifty hun
dred thousand livres (five millions of livres), which was to be
levied " on all folks, of whatever condition they might be^

108 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. m

Church folks, nobles, or others," and the gabel or tax on salt
"over the whole kingdom of France." On separating, the
states appointed beforehand two fresh sessions at which they
would assemble, " one, in the month of March, to estimate the
sufficiency of the impost and to hear, on that subject, the re
port of the nine superintendents charged with the execution o£
their decision ; the other, in the month of November following,
to examine into the condition of the kingdom. "

They assembled, in fact, on the 1st of March, and on the 8th
of May, 1356 [N.B. as the year at that time began with Easter,
the 24th of April was the first day of the year 1356 : the new
style, however, is here in every case adopted]; but they had
not the satisfaction of finding their authority generally recog
nized and their patriotic purpose effectually accomplished.
The impost they had voted, notably the salt-tax, had met with
violent opposition. "When the news thereof reached Nor
mandy," says Froissart, "the .country was very much as
tounded at it, for they had not learnt to pay any such thing.
The count d'Harcourt told the folks of Eouen, where he was
puissant, that they would be very serfs and very wicked if
they agreed to this tax, and that, by God's help, it should
never be current in his country." The king of Navarre used
much the same language in his countship of Evreux. At other
spots the mischief was still more serious. Close to Paris itself,
at Me"lun, payment was peremptorily refused ; and at Arras, on
the 5th of March, 1356, "the commonalty of the town," says
Froissart, "rose upon the rich burghers and slew fourteen of
the most substantial, which was a pity and a loss ; and so it is
when wicked folk have the upper hand of valiant men. How
ever the people of Arras paid for it afterwards, for the king
sent thither his cousin, my lord James of Bourbon, who gave
orders to take all them by whom the sedition had been caused
and, on the spot, had their heads cut off."

The states-general at their re-assembly on the 1st of March,
1356, admitted the feebleness of their authority and the insuffi
ciency of their preceding votes for the purpose of aiding the
king in the war. They abolished the salt-tax and the sales-
duty which had met with such opposition; but, staunch in
their patriotism and loyalty, they substituted therefor an in
come-tax, imposed on every sort of folk, nobles or burghers,
ecclesiastical or lay, which was to be levied " not by the high
justiciers of the king, but by the folks of the three estates
themselves." The king's ordinance, dated the 12th of March.

CH. xxi. J FOURTEENTH CENTURY STATES-GENERAL.

1356, which regulates the execution of these different measures,
is (article 10) to this import : ' ' there shall be, in each city,
three deputies, one for each estate. These deputies shall ap
point, in each parish, collectors who shall go into the houses to
receive the declaration which the persons who dwell there
shall make touching their property, their estates, and their
servants. When a declaration shall appear in conformity with
truth, they shall be content therewith; else they shall have
him who has made it sent before the deputies ot the city in the
district whereof he dwells, and the deputies shall cause him to
take, on this subject, such oaths as they shall think proper. . . .
The collectors in the villages shall cause to be taken therein, in
the presence of the pastor, suitable oaths on the subject of the
declarations. If, in the towns or villages, any one refuse to
take the oaths demanded, the collectors shall assess his property
according to general opinion and on the deposition of his neigh
bors" (Ordonnances des Rois de France, t. iv. pp. 171-175).

In return for so loyal and persevering a co-operation on the
part of the states-general, notwithstanding the obstacles en
countered by their votes and their agents, King John con
firmed expressly, by an ordinance of May 26th, 1356 [art. 9:
Ordonnances des Rois de France, t. iii. p. 55], all the promises
he had made them and all the engagements he had entered
into with them by his ordinance of December 28th, 1355, given
immediately after their first session (Ibiden, t. iii. pp. 19—37: a
veritable reformatory ordinance which enumerated the vari
ous royal abuses, administrative, judicial, financial, and mili
tary, against which there had been a public clamor, and regu
lated the manner of redressing them.

After these mutual concessions and promises the states-gene
ral broke up, adjourning until the 30th of November following
(1356) ; but two months and a half before this time King John,
proud of some success obtained by him in Normandy and of
the brilliant army of knights remaining to him after he had
dismissed the burgher-forces, rushed, as has been said, with
conceited impetuosity to encounter the prince of "Wales, re
jected with insolent demands the modest proposals of with
drawal made to him by the commander of the little English
army and, on the 19th of September, lost, contrary to all ex
pectation, the lamentable battle of Poitiers. \Ve have seen
how he was deserted before the close of the action by his eldest
son, Prince Charles, with his body of troops, and how he him
self remained with his youngest son, Prince Philip, a boy of

HO HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxi,

fourteen years, a prisoner in the hands of his victorious ene
mies. "At this news," says Froissart, "the kingdom of
France was greatly troubled and excited, and with good cause,
for it was a right grievous blow and vexatious for all sorts of
folk. The wise men of the kingdom might well predict that
great evils would come of it, for the king, their head, and all
the chivalry of the kingdom were slain or taken ; the knighte
and squires who came back home were on that account so
hated and blamed by the commoners that they had great diffi
culty in gaining admittance to the good towns ; and the king's
three sons who had returned, Charles, Louis, and John, were
very young in years and experience, and there was in them
such small resource that none of the said lads liked to under
take the government of the said kingdom."

The eldest of the three, Prince Charles, aged nineteen, who
was called the Dauphin after the cession of Dauphiny to
France, nevertheless assumed the office, in spite of his youth
and his any thing but glorious retreat from Poitiers. He took
the title of lieutenant of the king, and had hardly re-entered
Paris, on the 29th of September, when he summoned, for the
15th of October, the states-general of Langue d'oil, who met, in
point of fact, on the 17th, in the great chamber of parliament.
"Never was seen," says the report of their meeting, " an as
sembly so numerous, or composed of wiser folk." The super
ior clergy were there almost to a man ; the nobility had lost
too many in front of Poitiers to be abundant at Paris, but
there were counted at the assembly four hundred deputies
from the good towns, amongst whom special mention is made,
in the documents, of those from Amiens, Tournay, Lille, Arras,
Troye3, Auperre, and Sens. The total number of members
at the assembly amounted to more than eight hundred.

The session was opened by a speech from the chancellor,
Peter de la Forest, who called upon the estates to aid the
dauphin with their councils under the serious and melancholy
circumstances of the kingdom. The three orders at first at
tempted to hold their deliberations each in a separate hall ; but
it was not long before they felt the inconveniences arising from
their number and their separation, and they resolved to choose
from amongst each order commissioners who should examine
the questions together and afterwards make their report and
their proposals to the general meeting of the estates. Eighty
commissioners were accordingly elected and set themselves to
work. The dauphin appointed some of his officers to be pro-

OH. XXL] FOURTEENTH CENTURY STATES-GENERAL.

sent at their meetings, and to furnish them with such inform
ation as they might require. As early as the second day
" these officers were given to understand that the deputies
would not work whilst any body belonging to the king's coun
cil was with them." So the officers withdrew ; and a few days
afterwards, towards the end of October, 1356, the com
missioners reported the result of their conferences to each of
the three orders. The general assembly adopted their pro
posals and had the dauphin informed that they were desirous
of a private audience. Charles repaired, with some of his
councillors, to the monastery of the Cordeliers, where the
estates were holding their sittings, and there he received the
representations. They demanded of him u that he should de
prive of their offices such of the king's councillors as they
should point out, have them arrested, and confiscate all their
property. Twenty-two men of note, the chancellor, the pre
mier president of the parliament, the king's stewards, and
several officers in the household of the dauphin himself were
thus pointed out. They were accused of having taken part in
their own profit in all the abuses for which the government
was reproached, and of having concealed from the king the
true state of things and the misery of the people. The com
missioners elected by the estates were to take proceedings
against them : if they were found guilty, they were to be
punished ; and if they were innocent, they were at the very
least to forfeit their offices and their property, on account of
their bad counsels and their bad administration. "

The chronicles of the time are not agreed as to these last de
mands. We have, as regards the events of this period, two
contemporary witnesses, both full of detail, intelligence, and
animation in their narratives, namely, Froissart and the con-
tinuer of William of Nangis' Latin Chronicle. Froissart is in
general favorable to kings and princes ; the anonymous chro
nicler, on the contrary, has a somewhat passionate bias to
wards the popular party. Probably both of them are often
given to exaggeration in their assertions and impressions ; but,
taking into account none but undisputed facts, it is evident
that the claims of the states-general, though they were for the
most part legitimate enough at bottom, by reason of the num
ber, gravity, and frequent recurrence of abuses, were exces
sive and violent, and produced the effect of complete suspen
sion in the regular course of government and justice The
dauphin, Charles, was a young man, of a naturally sound and

HISTORY OP FRANCE [CH. xn,

collected mind, but without experience, who had hitherto lived
only in his father's court, and who could not help being deeply
shocked and disquieted by such demands. He was still more
troubled when the estates demanded that the deputies, under
the title of reformers, should traverse the provinces as a
check upon the malversations of the royal officials, and that
twenty-eight delegates, chosen from amongst the three orders,
four prelates, twelve knight, and twelve burgesses, should be
constantly placed near the king's person "with power to do and
order every thing in the kingdom, just like the king himself,
as well for the purpose of appointing and removing public
officers as for other matters." It was taking away the entire
government from the crown and putting it into the hands of
the estates.

The dauphin's surprise and suspicion were still more vivid
when the deputies spoke to him about setting at liberty the
king of Navarre, who nad been imprisoned by King John, and
told him that ' ' since this deed of violence no good had come to
the king or the kingdom because of the sin of having im
prisoned the said king of Navarre." And yet Charles the Bad
was already as*infamous as he has remained in history ; he had
labored to embroil the dauphin with his royal father; and
there was no plot or intrigue, whether with the malcontents in
France or with the king of England, in which he was not, with
good reason, suspected of having been mixed up and of being
ever ready to be mixed up. He was clearly a dangerous ene
my for the public peace as well as for the crown, and, for the
states-general who were demanding his release, a bad associate.

In the face of such demands and such forebodings the dau
phin did all he could to gain time. Before he gave an answer
he must know, he said, what subvention the states -general
would be willing to grant him. The reply was a repetition of
the promise of thirty thousand men-at-arms, together with an
enumeration of the several taxes whereby there was a hope of
providing for the expense. But the produce of these taxes was
so uncertain that both parties doubted the worth of the prom
ise. Careful calculation went to prove that the subvention
would suffice at the very most for the keep of no more than
eight or nine thousand men. The estates were urgent for a
speedy compliance with their demands. The dauphin per
sisted in his policy of delay. He was threatened with a public
and solemn session at which all the questions should be
bixmght before the people, and which was fixed for the 3rd of

OH. xxi.] FOURTEENTH CENTURY STATES-GENERAL. 113

November. Great was the excitement in Paris ; and the peo
ple showed a disposition to support the estates at any price.
On the 2nd of November the dauphin summoned at the Louvre
a meeting of his councillors and of the principal deputies ; and
there he announced that he was was obliged to set out for
Metz, where he was going to follow up the negotiations entered
into with the Emperor Charles IV. and Pope Innocent VI. for
the sake of restoring peace between France and England. He
added that the deputies, on returning for a while to their pro
vinces, should get themselves enlightened as to the real state
of affairs, and that he would not fail to recall them so soon as
he had any important news to tell them and any assistance to
request of them.

It was not without serious grounds that the dauphin at
tached so much importance to gaming time. When, in the
preceding month of October, he had summoned to Paris the
states-general of Langue d'oi'Z, he had likewise convoked at
Toulouse those of Langue d'oc, and he was informed that the
latter had not only just voted a levy of fifty thousand men-at-
arms with an adequate subsidy, bi*t that, in order to show
their royalist sentiments, they had decreed a sort of public
mourning, to last for a year, if King John were not released
from his captivity. The dauphin's idea was to summon other
provincial assemblies from which he hoped for similar mani
festations. It was said, moreover, that several deputies,
already gone from Paris, had been ill-received in their towns,
at Soissons amongst others, on account of their excessive claims
and their insulting language towards all the king's councillors.
Under such flattering auspices the dauphin set out, according
to the announcement he had made, from Paris, on ttie 5th of
December, 135*6, to go and meet the Emperor Charles IV. at
Metz; but, at his departure, he committed exactly the fault
which was likely to -do him the most harm at Paris : being in
want of money for his costly trip, he subjected the coinage to
a fresh adulteration, which took effect five days after his
departure.

The leaders in Paris seized eagerly upon so legitimate a
grievance for the support of their claims. As early as the 3rd
of the preceding November, when they were apprised of the
dauphin's approaching departure for Metz and the adjourn
ment of their sittings, the states-general had come to a decision
that their remonstrances and demands, summed up in twenty-
one articles, should be read in general assembly, and that »

114 E18TORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxt

recital of the negotiations which had taken place on that sub
ject between the estates and the dauphin should be likewise
drawn up, "in order that all the deputies might be able to tell
in their districts wherefore the answers had not been received."
When, after the dauphin's departure, the new debased coins
were put in circulation, the people were driven to an outbreak
thereby, and the provost of tradesmen, "Stephen Marcel,
hurried to the Louvre to demand of the count of Anjou, the
dauphin's brother and lieutenant, a withdrawal of the decree.
Having obtained no answer, he returned the next day escorted
by a throng of the inhabitants of Paris. At length, on the
third day, the numbers assembled were so considerable that
the young prince took alarm, and suspended the execution of
the decree until his brother's return. For the first tune
Stephen Marcel had got himself supported by an outbreak of
the people; for the first time the mob had imposed its will
upon the ruling power; and from this day forth pacific and
lawful resistance was transformed into a violent struggle."

At his re-entry into Paris, on the 19th of January, 1357, the
dauphin attempted to once more gain possession of some sort
of authority. He issued orders to Marcel and the sheriffs to
remove the stoppage they had placed on the currency of the
new coinage. This was to found his opposition on the worst
side of his case. " We will do nothing of the sort," replied
Marcel; and in a few moments, at the provost's orders, the
work-people left their work, and shouts of "To arms!" re
sounded through the streets. The prince's councillors were
threatened with death. The dauphin saw the hopelessness of
a struggle ; for there were hardly a handful of men left to
guard the Louvre. On the morrow, the 20th of January, he
sent for Marcel and the sheriffs into the great hall of parlia
ment, and giving way on almost every point bound himself to
no longer issue new coin, to remove from his council the offi
cers who had been named to him, and even to imprison them
until the return of his father, who would do full justice to
them. The estates were at the same time authorized to meet
when they pleased; " on all which points the provost of trades
men requested letters which -were granted him ;" and he de
manded that the dauphin should immediately place sergeants
in the houses of those of his councillors who still happened to
be hi Paris, and that proceedings should be taken without delay
for making an inventory of their goods with a view to confis»
cation of them.

OB. XXL] FOURTEENTH CENTURY STATES-GENERAL.

The estates met on the 5th of Februarys It was not without
surprise that they found themselves less numerous than they
had hitherto been. The deputies from the duchy of Burgundy,
from the countships of Flanders and Alengon, and several
nobles and burghers from other provinces did not repair to the
session. The kingdom was falling into anarchy; bands of
plunderers roved hither and thither, threatening persons and
ravaging lands ; the magistrates either could not or would not
exercise their authority; disquietude and disgust were gain
ing possession of many honest folks. Marcel and his partisans,
having fallen into somewhat of disrepute and neglect, "keenly
felt how necessary and also saw how easy it was tor them to
become completely masters. They began by drawing up a
series of propositions which they aad distributed and spread
abroad far and wide in the provinces. On tne 3rd of March
they held a public meeting, at which the dauphin and his two
brothers were present. A numerous throng filled the hall.
The bishop of Laon, Eobert Lecocq, the spokesman of the
party, made a long and vehement statement of all the public
grievances, and declared that twenty- two of the king's officers
should be deprived for ever of all offices, that all the officers of
the kingdom should be provisionally suspended, and that
reformers, chosen "by the estates and commissioned by the
dauphin himself, should go all over France, to "hold inquiries
as to these officers, and, according to their deserts, either re
instate them in their offices or condemn them. At the same
time the estates bound themselves to raise thirty thousand
men-at-arms whom they themselves would pay and keep ; anfl.
as the produce of the impost voted for this purpose was very
uncertain, they demanded their adjournment to the fortnight of
Easter, and two sessions certain, for which they should be
free to fix the time, before the 15th of February in the follow
ing year. This was simply to decree the permanence of their
power. To all these demands the dauphin offered no resist
ance. In the month of March following, a grand ordinance,
drawn up in sixty-one articles, enumerated all the grievances
which had been complained of, and prescribed the redress for
them. A second ordinance, regulating all that appertained to
the suspension of the royal officers, was likewise, as it appears,
drawn up at the same time, but has not come down to us. At
last a grand commission was appointed, composed of thirty-six
members, twelve elected by each of the three orders. " These
thirty-six persons," says Froissart, " were bound to often meet

116 HISTORY OF FRANCS. [CH. xxt

together at Paris, for to order the affairs of the kingdom, and
all kinds of matters were to be disposed of by these three
estates, and all prelates, all lords, and all commonalties of the
cities and good towns were bound to be obedient to what these
three estates should order." Having their power thus secured
in their absence, the estates .adjourned to the 25th of April.

The rumor of these events reached Bordeaux, where, since
the defeat at Poitiers, King John had been living as the guest
of the prince of Wales rather than as a prisoner of the Eng
lish. Amidst the galas and pleasures to which he abandoned
himself he was indignant to learn that at Paris the royal
authority was ignored, and he sent three of his comrades in
captivity to notify to the Parisians that he rejected all the
claims of the estates, that he would not have payment made
of the subsidy voted by them, and that he forbade their meet
ing on the 25th of April following. Tkis strange manifesto on
the part of imprisoned royalty excited in Paris such irritation
amongst the people, that the dauphin hastily sent out of the
city the king's three envoys, whose lives might have been
threatened, and declared to the thirty-six commissioners of the
estates that the subsidy should be raised, and that the general
assembly should be perfectly free to meet at the time it had
appointed.

And it did meet towards the end of April, but in far fewer
numbers than had been the case hitherto, and with more and
more division from day to day. Nearly all the nobles and
ecclesiastics were withdrawing from it; and amongst the
burgesses themselves. Many of the more moderate spirits
were becoming alarmed at the violent proceedings of the com
mission of the thirty -six delegates who, under the direction of
Stephen Marcel, were becoming a small oligarchy, little by
little usurping the place of the great national assembly. A cry
was raised in the provinces "against the injustice of those
chief governors who were no more than ten or a dozen ;" and
there was a refusal to pay the subsidy voted. These symptoms
and the disorganization which was coming to a head through
out the whole kingdom made the dauphin think that the
moment had arrived for him to seize the reins again. About
the middle of August, 1357, he sent for Marcel and three
sheriffs, accustomed to direct matters at Paris, and let them
know " that he intended thenceforward to govern by himself,
without curators.*' He at the same time restored to office
some of the lately dismissed royal officers. The thirty-six

OH. xxi.] FOURTEENTH CENTURY STATES-GENERAL. H7

commissioners made a show of submission; and their most
faithful ecclesiastical ally, Robert Lecocq, bishop of Laon,
returned to his diocese. The dauphin left Paris, and went a
trip into some of the provinces, halting at the principal towns,
such as Rouen and Chartres, and every where, with intellegent
but timid discretion, making his presence and his will felt, not
very successfully, however, as regarded the re-establishment
of some kind of order on his route in the name of the kingship.
Marcel and his partisans took advantage of his absence to
shore up their tottering supremacy. They felt ,how im
portant it was for them to have a fresh meeting of the estates,
whose presence alone could restore strength to their commis
sioners; but the dauphin only could legally summon them.
They, therefore, eagerly pressed him to return in person to
Paris, giving him a promise that, if he agreed to convoke
there the deputies from twenty or thirty towns, they would
supply him with the money of which he was in need, and
would say no more about the dismissal of royal officers or
about setting at liberty the king of Navarre. The dauphin,
being still young and trustful, though he was already discreet
and reserved, fell into the snare. He returned to Paris, and
summoned thither, for the 7th of November following, the
deputies from seventy towns, a sufficient number to give their
meeting a specious resemblance to the states-general. One cir
cumstance ought to have caused him some glimmering of sus
picion. At the same time that the dauphin was sending to the
deputies his letters of convocation, Marcel himself also sent to
them, as if he possessed the right, either in his own name or in
that of the thirty-six delegate-commissioners, of calling them
together. But a still more serious matter came to open the
dauphin's eyes to the danger he had fallen into. During the
night between the 8th and 9th of November, 1357, immediately
after the reopening of the states, Charles the Bad, king of
Navarre, was carried off by a surprise from the castle of
Arleux in Cambresis, where he had been confined; and his
liberators removed him first of all to Amiens and then to Paris
itself, where the popular party gave him a triumphant recep
tion. Marcel and his sheriffs had decided upon and prepared,
at a private council, this dramatic incident, so contrary to the
promises they had but lately made to the dauphin. Charles
the Bad used his deliverance like a skilful workman ; the very
day after his arrival in Paris he mounted a platform set against
the walls of St. Germain's abbey, and there, in the presence of

118 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxi.

more than ten thousand persons, burgesses and populace, he
delivered a long speech, " seasoned with much venom, "says a
chronicler of the time. After having denounced the wrongs
which he had been made to endure, he said, for eighteen
months past, he declared that he would live and die in defence
of the kingdom of France, giving it to be understood that " if
he were minded to claim the crown, he would soon show by
the laws of right and wrong that he was nearer to it than the
the king of England was." He was insinuating, eloquent, and
an adept in the art of making truth subserve the cause of false
hood. The people were moved by his speech. The dauphin
was obliged not only to put up with the release and the
triumph of his most dangerous enemy, but to make an out
ward show of reconciliation with him, and to undertake not
only to give him ba,ck the castles confiscated after his arrest,
but "to act towards him as a good brother towards his
brother." These were the exact words made use of in the
dauphin's name, * ' and without having asked his pleasure
about it," by Eobert Lecocq, bishop of Laon, who himself also
had returned from his diocese to Paris at the time of the recall
of the estates.

The consequences of this position were not slow to exhibit
themselves. Whilst the king of Navarre was re-entering Paris
and the dauphin submitting to the necessity of a reconciliation
with him, several of the deputies who had but lately returned
to the states-general, and amongst others nearly all those from
Champagne and Burgundy, were going away again, being un
willing either to witness the triumphal re-entry of Charles the
Bad or to share the responsibility for such acts as they fore
saw. Before long the struggle or rather the war between the
king of Navarre and the dauphin broke out again ; several of
the nobles in possession of the castles which were to have been
restored to Charles the Bad, and especially those of Breteuil,
Pacy-sur-Eure, and iPont-Audemer, flatly refused to give them
back to him; and the dauphin was suspected, probably not
without reason, of leaving encouraged them in their resistance.
Without the walls of Paris it was really war that was going on
between the two princes. Philip of Navarre, brother of
Charles the Bad, went marching with bands of pillagers over
Normandy and Anjou, and within a few leagues of Paris, de
claring that he had not taken and did not intend to take any
part in his brother's pacific arrangements, and carrying fire
find sword all through the country. The peasantry from the

CH. xxi.] FOURTEENTH CENTURY STATES-GENERAL. H9

ravaged districts were overflowing Paris. Stephen Marcel had
no mind to reject the support which many of them brought
him ; but they had to be fed and the treasury was empty. Tha
wreck of the states-general, meeting on the 2nd of January,
1358, themselves had recourse to the expedient which they had
so often and so violently reproached the king and the dauphin
with employing: they notably depreciated the coinage, allot
ting a fifth of the profit to the dauphin and retaining the other
four-fifths for the defence of the kingdom. What Marcel and
his party called the defence of the kingdom was the works of
fortification round Paris, begun in October, 1356, against the
English, after the defeat of Poitiers, and resumed in 1358
against the dauphin's party in the neighboring provinces, as
well as against the robbers that were laying them waste.
Amidst all this military and popular excitement the dauphin
kept to the Louve, having about him two thousand men-at
arms whom he had taken into his pay, he said, solely " on ac
count of the prospect of a war with the Navarrese." Before he
went and plunged into a civil war outside the gates of Paris he
resolved to make an effort to win back the Parisians them
selves to his cause. He sent a crier through the city to bid the
people assemble in the market-place, and thither he repaired
on horseback, on the llth of January, with five or six of his
most trusty servants. The astonished mob thronged about him
and he addressed them in vigorous language. He meant, he
said, to live and die amongst the people of Paris ; if he was col
lecting his men-at-arms, it was not for the purpose of plunder
ing and oppressing Paris, but that he might march against
their common enemies ; and if he had not done so sooner it was
because "the folks who had taken the government gave him
neither money nor arms; but they would some day be called
to strict account for it." The dauphin was small, thin, deli
cate, and of insignificant appearance ; but at this juncture he
displayed unexpected boldness and eloquence ; the people were
deeply moved; and Marcel and his friends felt that a heavy
blow had just been dealt them.

They hastened to respond with a blow of another sort. It
was every where whispered abroad that if Paris was suffering so
much from civil war and the irregularies and calamities which
were the concomitants of it, the fault lay with the dauphin's sur
roundings, and that his noble advisers deterred him from meas
ures which would save the people from their miseries. " Pro
vost Marcel and the burgesses of Paris took counsel together and

6 VOL. 2

120 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH.

decided that it would be a good thing if some of those attendants
on the regent were to be taken away from the midst of this
world. They all put on caps, red on one side and blue on the
other, which they wore as a sign of their confederation in de
fence of the common weal. This done, they reassembled in
large numbers on the 22nd of February, 1358, with the provost
at their head, marched to the palace where the duke was
lodged." This crowd encountered on its way, in the street
called Juiverie (Jewry), the advocate-general, Regnault d'Aci,
one of the twenty-two royal officers denounced by the estates
in the preceding year ; and he was massacred in a pastry-cook's
shop. Marcel, continuing his road, arrived at the palace, and
ascended, followed by a band of armed men, to the apartments
of the dauphin, " whom he requested very sharply," says Frois-
eart, "to restrain so many companies from roving about on all
sides, damaging and plundering the country. The duke replied
that he would do so willingly if he had the wherewithal to do
it, but that it was for him who received the dues belonging
to the kingdom to discharge that duty. I know not why or
how, " adds Froissart, ' * but words were multiplied on the part
of all, and became very high." " My lord duke," suddenly
said the provost, " do not alarm yourself; but we have some
what to do here ; " and turning towards his fellows in the caps,
he said, " Dearly beloved, do that for the which ye are come."
Immediately the lord de Conflans, marshal of Champagne, and
Robert de Clermont, marshal of Normandy, noble and valiant
gentlemen, and both at the time unarmed, were massacred so
close to the dauphin and his couch, that his robe was covered
with their blood. The dauphin shuddered ; and the rest of his
officers fled. "Take no heed, lord duke," said Marcel; "you
have naught to fear." He handed to the dauphin his own red
and blue cap and himself put on the dauphin's, which was
Of black stuff with golden fringe. The corpses of the two
marshals were dragged into the courtyard of the palace, where
they remained until evening without any one's daring to remove
them; and Marcel with his fellows repaired to the mansion-
house, and harangued from an open window the mob collected
on the Place de Greve. "What has been done is for the
good and the profit of the kingdom," said he; " the dead were
false and wicked traitors." " We do own it and will maintain
it !" cried the people who were about him.

The house from which Marcel thus addressed the people was
his own property, and was called the Pillar-house. There he

CH. xxi.] FOURTEENTH CENTURY STATES- GENERAL. 121

accommodated the town-council, which had formerly held its
sittings in divers parlors.

For a month after this triple murder, committed with such
official parade, Marcel reigned dictator in Paris. He removed
from the council of thirty-six deputies such members as he
could not rely upon, and introduced his own confidants. He
cited the council, thus modified, to express approval of the hlow
just struck; and the deputies, "some from conviction and
others from doubt (that is, fear), answered that they believed
that for what had been done there had been good and just
cause." The king of Navarre was recalled from Nantes to
Paris, and the dauphin was obliged to assign to him, in the
king's name, " as a make-up for his losses," 10,000 livres a year
on landed property in Languedoc. Such was the young prince's
condition that, almost every day, he was reduced to the neces
sity of dining with his most dangerous and most hypocritical
enemy. A man of family, devoted to the dauphin, who was
now called regent, Philip de Eepenti by name, lost his head on
the 19th March, 1358, on the market-place, for having at
tempted, with a few bold comrades, "to place the regent be
yond the power and the reach of the people of Paris." Six
days afterwards, however, on the 25th of March, the dauphin
succeeded in escaping, and repaired first of all to Senlis, and
then to Provins, where he found the estates of Champagne
eager to welcome him. Marcel at once sent to Provins two
deputies with instructions to bind over the three orders of
Champagne "to be at one with them of Paris, and not to be
astounded at what had been done." Before answering, the
members of the estates withdrew into a garden to parley to*
gether and sent to pray the regent to come and meet them,
" My lord," said the count De Braine to him in the Dame of the
nobility, " did you ever suffer any harm or villainy at the>
hands of De Conflans, marshal of Champagne, for which he
deserved to be put death as he hath been by them of Paris?"
The prince replied that he firmly held and believed that the
said marshal and Eobert de Clermont had well and loyally
served and advised himT "My lord," replied the count De
Braine, " we Champagnese who are here do thank you for that
which you have just said, and do desire you to do full justice
on those who have put our friend to death without cause;"
and they bound themselves to support him with their persons
and their property for the chastisement of them who had been
the authors of the outrage.

122 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xo,

The dauphin, with full trust in this manifestation and this
promise, convoked at Compiegne, for the 4th of May, 1358, no
longer the estates of Champagne only, but the states-general in
their entirety, who, on separating at the close of their last
session, had adjourned to the 1st of May following. The story
of this fresh session and of the events determined by it is here
reproduced textually, just as it has come down to us from the
last continuer of the Chronicle of William of Nangis, the most
favorable amongst all the chroniclers of the time to Stephen
Marcel and the popular party in Paris. u All the deputies and
especially the friends of the nobles slain did with one heart
and one mind counsel the lord Charles, duke of Normandy, to
have the homicides stricken to death ; and, if he could not do
so by reason of the number of their defenders, they urged him
to lay vigorous siege to the city of Paris, either with an armed
force or by forbidding the entry of victuals thereinto, in such
sort that it should understand and perceive for a certainty that
the death of the provost of tradesmen and of his accomplices
was intended. The said provost and those who, after the
regent's departure, had taken the government of the city,
clearly understood this intention, and they then implored the
University of studies at Paris to send deputies to the said lord-
regent, to humbly adjure him, in their name and in the name
of the whole city, to banish from his heart the wrath he had
conceived against their fellow- citizens, offering and promising,
moreover, a suitable reparation for the offence, provided that
the lives of the persons were spared. The University, con
cerned for the welfare of the city, sent several deputies of
weight to treat about the matter. They were received by the
lord duke Charles and the other lords with great kindness;
and they brought back word to Paris that the demand made at
Compiegne, was that ten or a dozen or even only five or six of
the men suspected of the crime lately committed at Paris
should be sent to Compiegne, where there was no design of
putting them to death, and if this were done, the duke-regent
would return to his old and intimate friendship with the
Parisians. But Provost Marcel and his accomplices, who were
afeard for themselves, did not believe that if they fell into the
hands of the lord duke they could escape a terrible death, and
they had no mind to run such a risk. Taking, therefore, a
bold resolution, they desired to be treated as all the rest of the
citizens, and, to that end, sent several deputations to the lord-
regent either to Compiegne or to Meaux whither he sometimes

Ott xxi.] FOURTEENTH CEN1URT STATES-GENERAL. 123

removed ; but they got no gracious reply and' rather words of
bitterness and threatening. Thereupon, being seized with
alarm for their city, into the which the lord-regent and his
noble comrades were so ardently desirous of re-entering, and
being minded to put itfout of reach from the peril which threat
ened it, they began to fortify themselves therein, to repair the
walls, to deepen the ditches, to build new ramparts on the
eastern side, and to throw up barriers at all the gates. ... As
they lacked a captain, they sent to Charles the Bad, king of
Navarre, who was at that time in Normandy, and whom they
knew to be freshly embroiled with the regent; and they re
quested him to come to Paris with a strong body of men-at-
arms, and to be their captain there and their defender against
all their foes, save the lord John, king of France, [a, prisoner in
England. The king of Navarre, with all his men, was received
in state on the 15th of June by the Parisians, to the great in
dignation of the prince-regent, his friends and many others.
The nobles thereupon began to draw near to Paris and to ride
about in the fields of the neighbc iiood, prepared to fight if
there should be a sortie from Paris to attack them. . . . On a
certain day the besiegers came right up to the bridge of Charen-
ton, as if to draw out the king of Navarre and the Parisians to
battle. The king of Navarre issued forth, armed, with his men,
and drawing near to the besiegers had long conversations with
them without fighting, and afterwards went back into Paris.
At sight hereof the Parisians suspected that this king, who was
himself a noble, was conspiring with the besiegers, and was
preparing to deal some secret blow to the detriment of Paris;
so they conceived mistrust of him and his, and stripped him of
his office of captain. He went forth sore vexed from Paris, he
and his; and the English especially, whom he had brought
with him, insulted certain Parisians, whence it happened that
before they were out of the city several of them were massa
cred by the folks of Paris, who afterwards confined themselves
within their walls, carefully guarding the gates by day and,
by night, keeping up strong patrols on the ramparts."

Whilst Marcel inside Paris, where he reigned supreme, was
a prey, on his own account and that of his besieged city, to
these anxieties and perils, an event occurred outside which
seemed to open to him a prospect of powerful aid, perhaps of
decisive victory. Throughout several provinces the peasants,
whose condition, sad and hard as it already was under the feu
dal system, had been still further aggravated by the outrages

124 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH. xxt

and irregularities of war, not finding any protection in their
lords, and often being even oppressed by them as if they had
been foes, had recourse to insurrection in order to escape from
the evils which came down upon them every day and from
every quarter. They bore and would bear any thing, it was
said, and they got the name of Jacques Borihomme (Jack Good-
fellow} ; but this taunt they belied in a terrible manner. We
will quote from the last continuer of William of Nangis, the
least declamatory and the least confused of all the chroniclers
of that period: ''In this same year 1358," says he, "in the sum
mer [the first rising took place on the 28th of May], the peas
ants in the neighborhood of St. Loup de Cerent and Clermont
in the diocese of Beauvais took up arms against the nobles of
France. They assembled in great numbers, set at their head
a certain peasant named William Karle [or Gale, or Callet], of
more intelligence than the rest, and marching by companies
under their own flag roamed over the country, slaying and
massacring all the nobles they met, even their own lords. Not
content with that, they demolished the houses and castles of
the nobles : and, whac is still more deplorable, they villainously
put to death the noble dames and little children who fell into
their hands; and afterwards they strutted about, they and
their wives, bedizened with the garments they had stripped
from their victims. The number of men who nad thus risen
amounted to five thousand, and the rising extended to the out
skirts of Paris. They had begun it from sheer necessity and
love of justice, for their lords oppressed instead of defending
them ; but before long they proceeded to the most hateful and
criminal deeds. They took and destroyed from top to bottom
the strong castle of Eamenonville, where they put to death a
multitude of men and dames of noble family who had taken
refuge there. For some time the nobles no longer went about
as before ; none of them durst set a foot outside the fortified
places." Jacquery had taken the form of a fit of demagogic
fury, and the Jacks [or Goodfellows] swarming out of their
hovels were the terror of the castles.

Had Marcel provoked this bloody insurrection? There is
strong presumption against him ; many of his contemporaries
say he had ; and the dauphin himself wrote on the 30th of
August, 1359, to the count of Savoy that one of the most hein
ous acts of Marcel and his partisans was "exciting the folks
of the open country in France, of Beauvaisis and Champagne,
and other districts, against the nobles of the said kingdom;

CH. XXL] FOURTEENTH CENTURY STATES-GENERAL. 125

whence so many evils have proceeded as no man should or
could conceive." It is quite certain, however, that, the insur
rection having once broken out. Marcel hastened to profit by
it and encouraged and even supported it at several points.
Amongst other things he sent from Paris a body of three hun
dred men to the assistance of the peasants who were besieging
the castle of Ermenonville. It is the due penalty paid by re
formers who allow themselves to drift into revolution that
they become before long accomplices in mischief or crime
which their original design and their own personal interest
made it incumbent on them to prevent or repress.

The reaction against Jacquery was speedy and shockingly
bloody. The nobles, the dauphin, and the king of Navarre, a
prince and a noble at the same time that he was a scoundrel,
made common cause against the Goodfellows, who were the
more disorderly in proportion as they had become more nu
merous and believed themselves more invincible. The as
cendancy of the masters over the rebels was soon too strong
for resistance. At Meaux, of which the Goodfellows had ob
tained possession, they were surprised and massacred to the
number, it is said, of seven thousand, with the town burning
about their ears. In Beauvaisis, the king of Navarre, after
having made a show of treating with their chieftain, William
Karle or Callet, got possession of him, and had him beheaded,
wearing a trivet of red-hot-iron, says one of the chroniclers, by
way of crown. He then moved upon a camp of Goodfellows
assembled near Montdidier, slew three thousand of them and
dispersed the remainder. These figures are probably very
much exaggerated, as nearly always happens in such ac
counts; but the continuer of William of Nangis, so justly
severe on the outrages and barbarities of the insurgent peas
ants, is not less so on those of their conquerors. "The nobles
of France," he says, " committed at that time such ravages in
the district of Meaux that there was no need for the English to
come and destroy our country ; those mortal enemies of the
kingdom could not have done what was done by the nobles at
home."

Marcel from that moment perceived that his cause was lost,
and no longer dreamed of any thing but saving himself and
his, at any price; "for he thought," says Froissart, "that it
paid better to slay than to be slain." Although he had more
than once experienced the disloyalty of the king of Navarre,
he entered into fresh negotiations with him, hoping to use him

126 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxi.

as an intermediary between himself and the dauphin in order
to obtain either an acceptable peace or guarantees for his own
security in case of extreme danger. The king of Navarre lent
a ready ear to these overtures ; he had no scruple about nego
tiating with this or that individual, this or that party, flatter
ing himself that he would make one or the other useful for his
own purposes. Marcel had no difficulty in discovering that
the real design of the king or* Navarre was to set aside the
house of Valois and the Plantagenets together, and to become
king of France himself, as a descendant, in his own person, of
St. Louis, though one degree more remote. An understanding
was renewed between the two, such as it is possible to have
between two personal interests fundamentally different but
capable of being for the moment mutually helpful. Marcel,
under pretext of defence against the besiegers, admitted into
Paris a pretty large number of English in the pay of the king
of Navarre. Before long quarrels arose between the Parisians
and these unpopular foreigners; on the 21st of July, 1358, dur
ing one of these quarrels, twenty-four English were massacred
by the people; and four hundred others, it is said, were in
danger of undergoing the same fate when Marcel came up and
succeeded in saving their lives by having them imprisoned in
the Louvre. The quarrel grew hotter and spread farther. The
people of Paris went and attacked other mercenaries of the
king of Navarre, chiefly English, who were occupying St.
Denis and St. Cloud. The Parisians were beaten; and the
king of Navarre withdrew to St. Denis. On the 27th of July
Marcel boldly resolved to set at liberty and send over to him
the four hundred English imprisoned in the Louvre. He had
them let out, accordingly, and himself escorted them as far as
the gate St. Honore, in the midst of a throng that made no
movement for all its irritation. Some of Marcel's satellites who
formed the escort cried out as they went, "Has any body
aught to say against the setting of these prisoners at liberty?"
The Parisians remembered their late reverse, and not a voice
was raised. " Strongly moved as the people of Paris were in
their hearts against the provost of tradesmen," says a con
temporary chronicle, " there was not a man who durst com
mence a riot."

Marcel's position became day by day more critical. The
Dauphin, encamped with his army around Paris, was keeping
Up secret but very active communications with it; and a
party, numerous and already growing in popularity, was

CH. xxi.] FOURTEENTH CENTURY STATES-GENERAL. 127

being formed there in his favor. Men of note, who were
lately Marcel's comrades, were now pronouncing against him;
and John Maillart, one of the four chosen captains of the mu«
nicipal forces, was the most vigilant. Marcel, at his wit's end,
made an offer to the king of Navarre to deliver Paris up to
him on the night between the 31st of July and the 1st of Au
gust. All was ready for carrying out this design. During the
day of the 31st of July Marcel would have changed the keepers
of the St. Denis gate, but Maillart opposed him, rushed to the
Hotel de Ville, seized the banner of France, jumped on horse
back and rode through the city shouting, "Mount joy St. Denis,
for the king and the duke I" This was the rallying-cry of the
dauphin's partisans. The day ended with a great riot amongst
the people. Towards eleven o'clock at night Marcel, followed
by his people armed from head to foot, made his way to the St.
Anthony gate, holding in his hands, it is said, the keys of the
city. Whilst he was there, waiting for the arrival of the king
of Navarre's men, Maillart came up "with torches and lan
terns and a numerous assemblage. He went straight to the
provost and said to him, * Stephen, Stephen, what do you here
at this hour?' 'John, what business have you to meddle? I
am here to take the guard of the city of which I have the gov
ernment.' 'By God,' rejoined Maillart, 'that will not do; you
are not here at this hour for any good, and I'll prove it to you,'
said he, addressing his comrades. * See, he holds in his hands
the keys of the gates, to betray the city.' ' You He, John,' said
Marcel. 'By God, you traitor, 'tis you who lie,' replied Mail
lart : * death I death ! to all on his side ! ' " And he raised his
battle-axe against Marcel. Philippe Giffard, one of the pro
vost's friends, threw himself before Marcel and covered him
for a moment with his own body ; but the struggle had begun
in earnest. Maillart plied his battle-axe upon Marcel, who fell
pierced with many wounds. Six of his comrades shared the
same fate ; and Robert Lecocq, bishop of Laon, saved himself
by putting on a Cordelier's habit. Maillart's company divided
themselves into several bands, and spread themselves all over
the city, carrying the news every where, and despatching or
arresting the partisans of Marcel. The next morning, the 1st
of August, 1358, "John Maillart brought together in the mar
ket-place the greater part of the community of Paris, explained
for what reason he had slain the provost of tradesmen and
in what offence he had detected him, and pointed out quietly
a*id discreetly how that on this very night the city of Paris

128 HISTORY Of FKANCE. [CH. xxi

must have been overrun and destroyed if God of His grace had
not applied a remedy. When the people who were present
heard these news they were much astounded at the peril in
which they had been, and the greater part thanked God with
folded hands for the grace He had done them." The corpse of
Stephen Marcel was stripped and exposed quite naked to the
public gaze, in front of St. Catherine du Val des Ecoliers, on
the very spot where, by his orders, the corpses of the two
marshals, Robert de Clermont and John de Conflans, had been
exposed five months before. He was afterwards cast into the
river in the presence of a great concourse. " Then were sen
tenced to death by the council of prud'hommes of Paris, and
executed by divers forms of deadly torture several who had
been of the sect of the provost," the regent having declared
that he would not re-enter Paris until these traitors had ceased
to live.

Thus perished after scarcely three years' political life, and
by the hands of his former friends, a man of rare capacity and
energy, who at the outset had formed none but patriotic de
signs, and had no doubt promised himself a better fate. When,
in December, 1355, at the summons of a deplorably incapable
and feeble king, Marcel, a simple burgher of Paris and quite a
new man, entered the assembly of the states-general of France,
itself quite a new power, he was justly struck with the vices
and abuses of the kingly government, with the evils and the
dangers being entailed thereby upon France, and with the
necessity for applying some remedy. But, notwithstanding
this perfectly honest and sound conviction, he fell into a capi
tal error; he tried to abolish, for a time at least, the govern
ment he desired to reform, and to substitute for the kingship
and its agents the people and their elect. For more than three
centuries the kingship had been the form of power which had
naturally assumed shape and development in France, whilst
seconding the natural labor attending the formation and de
velopment of the French nation; but this labor had as yet ad
vanced but a little way, and the nascent nation was not in a
condition to take up position at the head of its government.
Stephen Marcel attempted by means of the states-general of
the fourteenth century to bring to pass what we in the nine
teenth, and after all the advances of the French nation, have
not yet succeeded in getting accomplished, to wit, the govern
ment of the country by the country itself. Marcel, going from
excess to excess and from reverse to reverse in the pursuit of

CH. XXL] FOURTEENTH CENTURY STATES-GENERAL. 129

hia impracticable enterprise, found himself before long engaged
in a fierce struggle with the feudal aristocracy, still so power
ful at that time, as well as with the kingship. Being reduced
to depend entirely during this struggle upon such strength as
could be supplied by a municipal democracy incoherent, inex
perienced, and full of divisions in its own ranks, and by a mad
insurrection in the country districts, he rapidly fell into the
selfish and criminal condition of the man whose special con
cern is his own personal safety. This he sought to secure by
an unworthy alliance with the most scoundrelly amongst lu's
ambitious contemporaries, and he would have given up his
own city as well as France to the king of Navarre and the
English had not another burgher of Paris, John Maillart,
stopped him, and put him to death at the very moment when
the patriot of the states-general of 1355 was about to become a
traitor to his country. Hardly thirteen years before, when
Stephen Marcel was already a full-grown man, the great Flem
ish burgher, James van Artevelde, had, in the course of his
country's liberties, attempted a similar enterprise and, after a
series of great deeds at the outset and then of faults also simi
lar to those of Marcel, had fallen into the same abyss, and had
perished by the hand of his fellow-citizens, at the very moment
when he was laboring to put Flanders, his native country, into
the hands of a foreign master, the prince of Wales, son of Ed
ward III., king of England. Of all political snares the demo
cratic is the most tempting, but it is also the most demoralizing
and the most deceptive when, instead of consulting the in
terests of the democracy by securing public liberties, a man as
pires to put it in direct possession of the supreme power and
with its sole support to take upon himself the direction of the
helm.

One single»result of importance was won for France by the
states-general of the fourteenth century, namely, the principle
of the nation's right to intervene in their own affairs, and to
set their government straight when it had gone wrong or was
incapable of performing that duty itself. Up to that time, in
the thirteenth century and at the opening of the fourteenth,
the states-general had been hardly any thing more than a
temporary expedient employed by the kingship itself to solve
some special question or to escape from some grave, embar
rassment. Starting from King John, the states-general became
one of the principles of national right : a principle which did
not disappear even when it remained without application and

130 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. XXIL

the prestige of which survived even its reverses. Faith and
hope fill a prominent place in the lives of peoples as well as of
individuals; having sprung into real existence in 1355, the
states-general of France found themselves ah' ve again in 1789 ;
and we may hope that, after so long a trial, their rebuffs and
their mistakes will not be more fatal to them in our day.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.— CHARLES V.

So soon as Marcel and three of his chief confidants had been
put to death at the St. Anthony gate, at the very moment
when they were about to open it to the English, John Maillart
had information sent to the regent, at that time at Charenton,
with an urgent entreaty that he would come back to Paris
without delay. "The news, at once spread abroad through
the city, was received with noisy joy there, and the red caps
which had been worn so proudly the night before, were every
where taken off and hidden. The next morning a proclamation
ordered that whosoever knew any of the faction of Marcel
should arrest them and take them to the Chatelet, but without
laying hands on their goods and without maltreating their
wives or children. Several were taken, put to the question,
brought out into the public square, and beheaded by virtue of
a decree. They were the men who but lately had the govern
ment of the city and decided all matters. Some were burgesses
of renown, eloquent and learned, and one of them, on arriving
at the square, cried out, ' Woe is me ! Would to heaven, O
king of Navarre, that I had never seen thee or heard thee !' "
On the 2nd of August, 1358, in the evening, the dauphin,
Charles, re-entered Paris, and was accompanied by John
Maillart, who " was mightily in his grace and love." On his
way a man cried out, "By God, sir, if I had been listened to,
you would never have entered in here ; but, after all, you will
get but little by it." The count of Tancarville, who was in the
prince's train, drew his sword, and spurred his horse upon
"this rascal;" but the dauphin restrained him, and contented
himself with saying smilingly to the man, "You will not be
listened to, fair sir." Charles had the spirit of coolness attd

CH. xm.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 13t

discretion; and "he thought," says his contemporary Christine
de Pisan, "that if this fellow had been slain, the city which
had been so rebellious might probably have been excited
thereby." Charles, on being resettled in Paris, showed neither
clemency nor cruelty. He let the reaction against Stephen
Marcel run its course, and turned it to account without further
exciting it or prolonging it beyond measure. The property of
some of the condemned was confiscated ; some attempts at a
conspiracy for the purpose of avenging the provost of trades*
men were repressed with severity ; and John Maillart and his
family were loaded with gifts and favors. On becoming king,
Charles determined himself to hold his son at the baptismal
font ; but Robert Lecocq, bishop of Laon, the most intimate of
Marcel's accomplices, returned quietly to his diocese; two of
Marcel's brothers, William and John, owing their protection,
it is said, to certain youthful reminiscences on the prince's
part, were exempted from all prosecution; Marcel's widow
even recovered a portion of his property ; and as early as the
10th of August, 1358, Charles published an amnesty, from
which he(excepted only "those who had been hi the secret
council of the provost of tradesmen in respect of the great
treason;" and on the same day another amnesty quashed all
proceedings for deeds done during the Jacquery, ' ' whether by
nobles or ignobles." Charles knew that in acts of rigor or of
grace impartiality conduces to the strength and the reputation
of authority.

The death of Stephen Marcel and the ruin of his party were
fatal to the plots and ambitious hopes of the king of Navarre.
At the first moment he hastened to renew his alliance with
the king of England and to recommence war in Normandy,
Picardy, and Champagne against the regent of France. But
several of his local expeditions were unsuccessful ; the tempe
rate and patient policy of the regent rallied round him the
populations aweary of war and anarchy ; negotiations were
opened between the two princes ; and their agents were labori
ously discussing conditions of peace when Charles of Navarre
suddenly interfered in person, saying, " I would fain talk over
matters with the lord duke regent, my brother." We know
that his wife was' Joan of France, the dauphin's sister. * ' Hereat
there was great joy," says the chronicler, "amongst their
councillors. The two princes met, and the king of Navarre
with modesty and gentleness addressed the regent in these
terms, ' My lord duke and brother, know that I do hold "you to

132 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. XXIL

be my proper and especial lord; though I have for a long while
made war against you and against France, our country, I wish
not to continue or to foment it ; I wish henceforth to be a good
Frenchman, your faithful friend and close ally, your defender
against the English or whoever it may be : I pray you to par
don me thoroughly, me and mine, for all that I have done to
you up to this present. I wish for neither the lands nor the
towns which are offered to me or promised to me ; if I order
myself well and you find me faithful in all matters, you shall give
me all that my deserts shall seem to you to justify. ' At these
words the regent arose aud thanked the king with much sweet
ness ; they, one and the other, proffered and accepted wine and
spices; and all present rejoiced greatly, rendering thanks to
God, who doth blow where He listeth and doth accomplish in
a moment that which men with their own sole intelligence
have nor wit nor power to do in a long while. The tow.n of
Melun was restored to the lord duke ; the navigation of the
river once more became free up stream and down ; great was
the satisfaction in Paris and throughout the whole country;
and peace being thus made, the two princes returned both of
them home."

The king of Navarre knew how to give an appearance of free
will and sincerity to changes of posture and behavior which
seemed to be pressed upon him by necessity ; and we may sup
pose that the dauphin, all the while that he was interchanging
graceful acts, was too well acquainted by this time with the
other to become his dupe, but, by their apparent reconciliation,
they put an end, for a few brief moments, between themselves
to a position which was burthensome to both.

Whilst these events, from the battle of Poitiers to the death
of Stephen Marcel (from the 19th of September, 1356, to the 1st
of August, 1358), were going on in France, King 'John was liv
ing as a prisoner in the hands of the English, first at Bordeaux
and afterwards in London, and was much more concerned
about the reception he met with and the galas he was present
at than about the affairs of his kingdom. When, after his de
feat, he was conducted to Bordeaux by the prince of Wales,
who was governor of English Aquitaine, he became the object
of the most courteous attentions not only on the part of his
princely conqueror but of all Gascon society, " dames and dam
sels, old and young, and their fair attendants, who took plea
sure in consoling him by providing him with diversion." Thus
he passed the winter of 13-56 ; and in the spring the prince of

CH. xxii.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 138

Wales received from his father, King Edward III., the instruc
tions and the vessels he had requested for the conveyance of
his prisoner to England. In the month of May, 1357, "he sum
moned," says Froissart, ''all the highest barons of Gascony,
and told them that he had made up his mind to go to England,
whither he would take some of them, leaving the rest in the
country of Bordelais and Gascony to keep the land and the
frontiers against the French. When the Gascons heard that
the prince of Wales would carry away out of their power the
king of France whom they had helped to take, they were by
no means of accord therewith, and said to the prince, ' Dear
sir, we owe you, in all that is in our power, all honor, obedience,
and loyal service ; but it is not our desire that you should thus
remove from us the king of France, in respect ofVhom we have
had great trouble to put him in the place where he is ; for, thank
God, he is in a good strong city, and we are strong and men
enough to keep him against the French, if they by force would
take him from you.' The prince answered, fDear sirs, I grant
it heartily ; but my lord my father wishes to hold and behold
him; and with the good service that you have done my father
and me also we are well pleased, and it shall be handsomely
requited.' Nevertheless, these words did not suffice to appease
the Gascons, until a means thereto was found by sir Reginald
de Cobham and sir John Chandos; for they knew the Gascons
to be very covetous. So they said to the prince, 'Sir, offer
them a sum of florins, and you will see them come down to
your demands.' The prince offered them sixty thousand
florins ; but they would have nothing to do with them. At
last there was so much haggling that an agreement was made
for a hundred thousand francs which the prince was to hand
over to the barons of Gascony to share between them. He
borrowed the money ; and the said sum was paid and handed
over to them before the prince started. When these matters
were done, the prince put to sea with a fine fleet, crammed
with men-at-arms and archers, and put the king1 of France in
a vessel quite apart that he might be more at his ease, "

"They were at sea eleven days and eleven nights," con
tinues Froissart, "and on the twelfth they arrived at Sand
wich harbor, where they landed, and halted two days to
refresh themselves and their horses. On the third day they
set out and came to St. Thomas of Canterbury."

"When the news reached the king and queen of England
that the prince their son had arrived and had brought with him

134 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH.

the king of France, they were greatly rejoiced thereat and
grve orders to the burgesses of London to get themselves ready
in as splendid fashion as was beseeming to receive the king of
France. They of the city of London obeyed the king's com
mandment and arrayed themselves by companies most richly,
all the trades in cloth of different kinds." According to the
poet herald-at-arms of John Chandos, King Edward III. went
in person with his barons and more than twenty counts to
meet King John, who entered London "mounted on a tall
white steed right well harnessed and accoutred at all points,
and the prince of Wales, on a little black hackney, at his side."
King John was first of all lodged in London at the Savoy hotel
and shortly afterwards removed with all his people to Wind
sor; "there," says Froissart, "to hawk, hunt, disport himself
and take his pastime according to his pleasure, and Sir Philip,
his son, also ; and all the rest of the other lords, counts, and
barons, remained in London, but they went to see the king
when it pleased them, and they were put upon their honor
only," Chandos' poet adds, " Many a dame and many a damsel,
right amiable, gay and lovely, came to dance there, to sing
and to cause great galas and jousts, as in the days of King
Arthur."

In the midst of his pleasures in England King John some
times also occupied himself at Windsor with his business in
France, but with no more wisdom or success than had been his
wont during his actual reign. Towards the end of April, 1359,
the dauphin-regent received at Paris the text of a treaty which
the king his father had concluded in London with the king of
England. " The cession of the western half of France, from
Calais to Bayonne, and the immediate payment of four mil-
lion golden crowns, " such was, according to the terms of fhis
treaty, the price of King John's ransom, says M. Picot in
his work concerning ibeJIistory of the States- General which
was crowned in 1869 by the Academic des Sciences Mwales et
Politiques : and the regent resolved to leave to the judgment
of France the acceptance or refusal of such exorbitant de
mands. He summoned a meeting, to be held at Paris on the
19th of May, of churchmen, nobles, and deputies from the
good towns; but "there came but few deputies, as well be
cause full notice had not by that time been given of the said
summons as because the roads were blocked by the English
and the Navarrese, who occupied fortresses in all parts where
by it was possible to get to Paris." The assembly had to be

OH. xxn.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 135

postponed from day to day. At last, on the 25th of May, the
regent repaired to the palace. He halted on the marble stair
case; around him were ranged the three estates; and a numer
ous multitude filled the courtyard. In presence of all the
people, William de Dormans, king's advocate in parliament,
read the treaty of peace which was to divide the kingdom into
two parts so as to hand over one to the foes of France. The
reading of it roused the indignation of the people. The estates
replied that the treaty was not "tolerable or feasible" and in
their patriotic enthusiasm " decreed to make fair war on the
English." But it was not enough to spare the kingdom the
shame of such a treaty; it was necessary to give the regent
the means of concluding a better. On the 2nd of June, the
nobles announced to the dauphin that they would serve for a
month at their own expense and that they would pay besides
such imposts as should be decreed by the good towns. The
churchmen also offered to pay them. The city of Paris under
took to maintain "six hundred swords, three hundred archers,
and a thousand brigands." The good towns offered twelve
thousand men; but they could not keep their promise, the
country being utterly ruined.

When King John heard at Windsor that the treaty whereby
he had hoped to be set at liberty had been rejected at Paris, he
showed his displeasure by a single outburst of personal ani
mosity, saying, "Ah! Charles, fair son, you were counselled
by the king of Navarre, who deceives you and would deceive
sixty such as you!" Edward III., on his side, at once took
measures for recommencing the war; but, before engaging in
it, he had King John removed from Windsor to Hertford Cas
tle, and thence to Somerton, where he set a strong guard.
Having thus made certain that his prisoner would not escape
from him, he put to sea and, on the 28th of October, 1359,
landed at Calais with a numerous and well-supplied army.
Then, rapidly traversing northern France, he did not halt tiH
he arrived before Rheims, which he was in hopes of surprising,
and where, it is said, he purposed to have himself, without de
lay, crowned king of France. But he found the place so well
provided and the population so determined to make a good
defence, that he raised the siege and moved on Chalons, where
the same disappointment "awaited him. Passing from Cham
pagne to Burgundy he then commenced the same course of
scouring and ravaging; but the Burgundians entered into ne
gotiations with him, and by a treaty concluded on the 10th of

136 EISTOR7 OF FRANCE. [CH. xxn,

March, 1360, and signed by Joan of Auvergne, Queen of France,
second wife of King John and guardian of the young duke
of Burgundy, Philip de Rouvre, they obtained at the cost of
two hundred thousand golden sheep (moutons) an agreement
that for three years Edward and his army "would not go
scouring and burning" in Burgundy as they were doing in the
other parts of France. Such was the powerlessness or rather
absence of all national government, that a province made a
treaty all alone and on its own account without causing the
regent to show any surprise or to drec*m of making any com
plaint.

As a make-weight, at this same time, another province,
Picardy, aided by many Normans and Flemings its neighbors,
"nobles, burgesses, and common-folk," was sending to sea an
expedition which was going to try, with God's help, to deliver
King John from his prison in England and bring him back in
triumph to his kingdom. " Thus," says the chronicler, " they
who, God-forsaken or through their own faults, could not de
fend themselves on the soil of their fathers, were going abroad
to seek their fortune and their renown, to return home cov
ered with honor and boasting of divine succor I The Picard
expedition landed in England on the 14th of March, 1360; it
did not deliver King John, but it took and gave over to flames
and pillage for two days the town of Winchelsea, after which
it put to sea again and returned to its hearths." ( The Contin-
uerof William of Nangis, t. ii. p. 298.)

Edward III., weary of thus roaming with his army over
France without obtaining any decisive result, and without
even managing to get into his hands any one " of the good
towns which he had promised himself," says Froissart, "that
he would tan and hide in such sort that they would be glad to
come to some accord with him," resolved to direct his efforts
against the capital of the kingdom, where the dauphin kept
himself close. On the 7th of April, 1360, he arrived hard by
Montrouge, and his troops spread themselves over the out
skirts of Paris in the form of an investing or besieging force.
But he had to do with a city protected by good ramparts and
well supplied with provisions, and with a prince cool, patient,
determined, free from any illusion as to his danger or his
strength, and resolved not to risk any of those great battles of
which he had experienced the sad issue. Foreseeing the ad
vance of the English he had burnt the villages in the neighbor
hood of Paris, where they might have fixed their quarters; h»

CH. XXIL] TEE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 137

did the same with the suburbs of St. Germain, St. Marcel, and
Notre-Dame-des-Champs; he turned a deaf ear to all King
Edward's warlike challenges ; and some attempts at an assault
on the part of the English knights and some sorties on tha
part of the French knights, impatient of their inactivity, came
to nothing. At the end of a week Edward, whose " army no
longer found aught to eat," withdrew from Paris by the Char-
tres road, declaring his purpose of entering "the good coun
try of Beauce, where he would recruit himself all the sum
mer," and whence he would return after vintage to resume
the siege of Paris whilst his lieutenants would ravage all the
neighboring provinces. When he was approaching Chartres
" there burst upon his army," says Froissart, "a tempest, a
storm, an eclipse, a wind, a hail, an upheaval so mighty, so
wondrous, so horrible, that it seemed as if the heaven were
all a-tumble and the earth were opening to swallow up every
thing ; the stones fell so thick and so big that they slew men
and horses, and there was none so bold but that they were all
dismayed. There were at that time in the army certain wise
men who said that it was a scourge of God sent as a warning,
and that God was showing by signs that He would that peace
should be made." Edward had by him certain discreet friends
who added their admonitions to those of the tempest. His
cousin, the duke of Lancaster, said to him, "My lord, this
war that you are waging in the kingdom of France is right
wondrous and too costly for you; your men gain by it and
you lose your time over it to no purpose ; you will spend your
life on it, and it is very doubtful whether you will attain your
desire ; take the oif ers made to you now whilst you can come
out with honor ; for, my lord, we may lose more in one day
than we have won in twenty years." The regent in France,
on his side, indirectly made overtures for peace; the abbot of
Cluny and the general of the Dominicans, legates of Pope In
nocent VI., warmly seconded them, and negotiations were
opened at the hamlet of Bretigny, close to Chartres. "The
king of England was a hard nut to crack," says Froissart; he
yielded a little, however, and on the 8th of May, 1360, was
concluded the treaty of Bretigny, a piece disastrous indeed,
but become necessary. Aquitaine ceased to be a French fief,
and was exalted, in the king of England's interest, to an inde
pendent sovereignty, together with the provinces attached to
Poitou, Saintonge, Aunis, Agenois, Perigord, Limousin, Quercy,
Bigorre, Angoumois, and Rouergue. The king of England, on

138 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH.

his side, gave up completely to the king of France Normandy,
Maine, and the portion of Touraine and Anjou situated to the
north of the Loire. He engaged, further, to solemnly renounce
all pretensions to the crown of France so soon as King John
had renounced all rights of suzerainty over Aquitaineo King
John's ransom was fixed at three millions of golden crowns
payable in six years, and John Galeas Visconti, duke of Milan,
paid the first instalment of it (600,000 florins) at the price of
his marriage with Isabel of France, daughter of King John.
Hard as these conditions were, the peace was joyfully wel
comed in Paris and throughout northern France ; the bells of
the country churches as well as of Notre-Dame in Paris, songs
and dances amongst the people, and liberty of locomotion and
of residence secured to the English in all places, " so that none
should disquiet them or insult them," bore witness to the gen«
era! satisfaction. But some of the provinces ceded to the king
of England had great difficulty in resigning themselves to it.
"InPoitou and in all the district of Saintonge," says Frois-
eart, "great was the displeasure of barons, knights, and good
towns when they had to "be English. The town of La Rochelle
was especially unwilling to agree thereto; it is wonderful what
sweet and piteous words they wrote again and again to the king
of France, begging him for God's sake to be pleased not to
separate them from his own domains or place them in foreign
hands, and saying that they would rather be clipt every year
of half their revenue than pass into the hands of the English.
And when they saw that neither excuses nor remonstrances
nor prayers were of any avail they obeyed; but the men of
most mark in the town said, * We will recognize the English
with the lips, but the heart shall beat to it never.'" Thus be
gan to grow in substance and spirit, in the midst of war and
out of disaster itself \per damna, per ccedes db ipso Duxit opes
animumque ferro], that national patriotism which had hither
to been such a stranger to feudal France, and which was so
necessary for her progress towards unity— the sole condition for
her, of strength, security, and grandeur, in the state charac
teristic of the European world since the settlement of the
Franks in Gaul.

Having concluded the treaty of Bretigny, the king of Eng
land returned on the 18th of May, 1360, to London; and, on
the 8th of July following, King John, having been set at lib*
erty, was brought over by the prince of Wales to Calais, where
Edward III. came to meet him. The two kings treated one

OH. rm.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 139

another there with great courtesy. "The king of England,"
says Froissart, "gave the king of France at Calais Castle a
magnificent supper, at which his own children and the duke of
Lancaster and the greatest barons of England waited at table,
bareheaded." Meanwhile the prince-regent of France was ar
riving at Amiens, and there receiving from his brother-in law,
Galeas Visconti, duke of Milan, the sum necessary to pay the
first instalment of his royal father's ransom. Payment having
been made, the two kings solemnly ratified at Calais the treaty
of Bretigny. Two sons of King John, the duke of Anjou and
the duke of Berry, with several other personages of consider
ation, princes of the blood, barons, and burgesses of the prin
cipal good towns, were given as hostages to the king of Eng
land for the due execution of the treaty; and Edward III.
negotiated between the king of France and Charles the Bad,
king of Navarre, a reconciliation precarious as ever. The
work of pacification having been thus accomplished, King
John departed on foot for Boulogne, where he was awaited by
the dauphin his son, and where the prince of Wales and his
two brothers, likewise on foot, came and joined him. All
these princes passed two days together at Boulogne hi religious
ceremonies and joyous galas ; after which the prince of Wales
returned to Calais and King John set out for Paris, which he
once more entered, December 13th, 1360. " He was welcomed
there," says Froissart, "by all manner of folk, for he had been
much desired there. Bich presents were made him ; the pre
lates and barons of his kingdom came to visit him; they
feasted him and rejoiced with him as it was seemly to do ; and
the king received them sweetly and handsomely, for well he
knew how."

Ajid that was all King John did know. When he was once
more seated on his throne, the counsels of his eldest son, the
late regent, induced him to take some wise and wholesome
administrative measures. All adulteration of the coinage was
stopped; the Jews were recalled for twenty years, and some
securities were accorded to their industry and interests ; and
an edict renewed the prohibition of private wars. But in his
personal actions, in his bearing and practices as a king, the
levity, frivolity, thoughtlessness, and inconsistency of King
John were the same as ever. He went about his kingdom,
especially in southern France, seeking every where occasions
for holiday-making and disbursing rather than for observing
and reformnwr the state of the country. During the visit he

140 BISTORT OF FRANCS, fen, xxn

paid in 1362 to the new pope, Urban V., at Avignon, he tried
to get married to Queen Joan of Naples, the widow of two
husbands already, and, not being successful, he was on the
point of involving himself in a new crusade against the Turks.
It Was on his return from this trip that he committed the
gravest fault of his reign, a fault which was destined to bring
upon France and the French kingship even more evils and
disasters than those which had made the treaty of Bre"tigny a
necessity. In 1362, the young duke of Burgundy, Philip de
Rouvre, the last of the first house of the dukes of Burgundy,
descendants of King Robert, died without issue, leaving several
pretenders to his rich inheritance. King John was, according
to the language of the genealogists, the nearest of blood and at
the same time the most powerful; and he immediately took
possession of the duchy, went, on the 23rd of December, 1362,
to Dijon, swore on the altar of St. Benignus that he would
maintain the privileges of the city and of the province, and,
nine months after, on the 6th of September, 1363, disposed of
the duchy of Burgundy in the following terms: "Recalling
again to memory the excellent and praiseworthy services of our
right dearly beloved Philip, the fourth of our sons, who freely
exposed himself to death with us and, all wounded as he was,
remained unwavering and fearless at the battle of Poitiers ....
we do concede to him and give him the duchy and peerage of
Burgundy, together with all that we may have therein of right,
possession, and proprietorship .... for the which gift our
said son hath done us homage as duke and premier peer of
France." Thus was founded that second house of the dukes
of Burgundy which was destined to play for more than a cen
tury so great and often so fatal a part in the fortunes of
France.

Whilst he was thus preparing a gloomy future for his coun
try and his line, King John heard that his second son, the
duke of Anjou, one of the hostages left in the hands of the
king of England as security for the execution of the treaty of
Bretigny, had broken his word of honor and escaped from
England, in order to go and join his wife at Guise Castle.
Knightly faith was the virtue of King John; and it was, they
Bay, on this occasion that he cried, as he was severely upbraid
ing his son, that " if good faith were banished from the world,
it ought to find an asylum in the hearts of kings." He an
nounced to his councillors, assembled at Amiens, his intention
Of going in person to England. An effort was made to dis-

OH. xxii.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 141

euade him; and " several prelates and barons of France told
him that he was committing great folly when he was minded
to again put himself in danger from the king of England. He
answered that he had found in his brother, the king of Eng
land, in the queen, and in his nephews, their children, so much
loyalty, honor, and courtesy, that he had no doubt but that
they would be courteous, loyal, and amiable to him in any
case. And so he was minded to go and make the excuses of
his son, the duke of Anjou, who had returned to France." Ac
cording to the most intelligent of the chroniclers of the time,
the Continuer of William of Nangis, " some persons said that
the king was minded to go to England in order to amuse him
self ;" and they were probably right, for kingly and knightly
amusements were the favorite subject of King John's medita
tions. This time he found in England something else besides
galas; he before long fell seriously ill, "which mightily dis
concerted the king and queen of England, for the wisest in the
country judged him to be in great peril." He died, in fact, on
the 8th of April, 1364, at the Savoy hotel, in London ; " whereat
the king of England, the queen, their children, and many Eng
lish barons were much moved," says Froissart, " for the honor
of the great love which the king of France, since peace was
made, had shown them." France was at last about to have in
Charles V. a practical and an effective king.

In spite of the discretion he had displayed during his four
years of regency (from 1356 to 1360) his reign opened under
the saddest auspices. In 1363, one of those contagious diseases,
all at that tune called the plague, committed cruel ravages in
France. " None, "says the contemporary chronicler, "could
count the number of the dead in Paris, young or old, rich or
poor; when death entered a house, the little children died first,
then the menials, then the parents. In the smallest villages as
well as in Paris the mortality was such that at Argenteuil, for
example, where there were wont to be numbered seven hund
red hearths, there remained no more than forty or fifty."
The ravages of the armed thieves or bandits who scoured the
country added to those of the plague. Let it suffice to quote
one instance. u In Beauce, on the Orleans and Chartres side,
some brigands and prowlers, with hostile intent, dressed as
pig-dealers or cow-drivers, came to the little castle of Murs,
close to Corbeil, and finding outside the gate the master of the
place, who was a knight, asked him to get them back their
pigs, which his menials, they said, had the night before

142 HISTORY OF FRANCE. fen. xxn.

taken from them, which was false. The master gave leave
to go in that they might discover their pigs and move them
away. As soon as they had crossed the drawbridge they
seized upon the master, threw off their false clothes, drew
their weapons, and blew a blast upon the bagpipe ; and forth
with appeared their comrades from their hiding-places in the
neighboring woods. They took possession of the castle, its
master and mistress, and all their folk; and, settling them
selves there, they scoured from thence the whole country,
pillaging every where and filling the castle with the provisions
they carried off. At the rumor of this thievish capture, many
men-at-arms in the neighborhood rushed up to expel the
thieves and retake from them the castle. Not succeeding in
their assault they fell back on Corbeil, and then themselves
set to ravaging the country, taking away from the farm
houses provisions and wine without paying a doit, and carry
ing them off to Corbeil for their own use. They became before
long as much feared and hated as the brigands ; and all the in
habitants of the neighboring villages, leaving their homes and
their labor, took refuge, with their children and what they
had been able to carry off, in Paris, the only place where they
could find a little security." Thus the population was without
any kind of regular force, any thing like effectual protection;
the temporary defenders of order themselves went over, and
with alacrity too, to the side of disorder when they did not
succeed in repressing it; and the men-at-arms set readily
about plundering, in their turn, the castles and country-places
whence they had been charged to drive off the plunderers.
Let us add a still more striking example of the absence of all
publicly recognized power at this period, and of the necessity
to which the population was nearly every where reduced of
defending itself with his own hands in order to escape ever so
little from the evils of war and anarchy. It was a little while
ago pointed out why and how, after the death of Marcel and
the downfall of his faction, Charles the Bad, king of Navarre,
suddenly determined upon making his peace with the regent
of France. This peace was very displeasing to the English,
allies of the king of Navarre, and they continued to carry on
war, ravaging the country here and there, -at one time victor
ious and at another vanquished in a multiplication of dis
connected encounters. ** I will relate," says the Continuer of
William of Nangis, " one of those incidents just as it occurred
in my neighborhood, and as I have been truthfully told about

CH. OTL] THE HUNDRED YEARS* WAR. 143

it. The struggle there was valiantly maintained by peasants,
Jacques Bonhomme (Jack Goodfellows), as they are called.
There is a place pretty well fortified in a little town named
Longueil, not far from Compiegne, in the diocese of Beauvais
and near to the banks of the Oise. This place is close to the
monastery of St. Corneille-de-Compiegne. The inhabitants
perceived that there would be danger if the enemy occupied
this point ; and, after having obtained authority from the lord-
regent of France and the abbot of the monastery, they settled
themselves there, provided themselves with arms and pro
visions, and appointed a captain taken from among them
selves, promising the regent that they would defend this place
to the death. Many of the villagers came thither to place
themselves in security, and they chose for captain a tall, fine
man, named William a-Larks (aux Alouettes). He had for
servant and held as with bit and bridle a certain peasant
of lofty stature, marvellous bodily strength, and equal bold
ness, who had joined to these advantages an extreme modesty :
he was called Big Ferre. These folks settled themselves at
this point to the number of about two hundred men, all tillers
of the soil, and getting a poor livelihood by the labor of their
hands. The English, hearing it said that these folks were there
and were determined to resist, held them in contempt, and
went to them, saying, * Drive we hence these peasants and take
we possession of this point so well fortified and well supplied.'
They went thither to the number of two hundred. The folks
inside had no suspicion thereof, and had left their gates open.
The English entered boldly into the place, whilst the peasants
were in the inner courts or at the widow, a-gape at seeing men
so well armed making their way in. The captain, William a-
Larks, came down at once with some of his people, and bravely
began the fight ; but he had the worst of it, was surrounded by
the English, and himself stricken with a mortal wound. At
sight hereof, those of his folk who were still in the courts, with
Big Ferre at their head, said one to another, ' Let us go down
and sell our lives dearly, else they will slay us without mercy.T
Gathering themselves discreetly together, they went down by
different gates and struck out with mighty blows at the Eng
lish, as if they had been beating out their corn on the thresh
ing-floor ; their arms went up and down again, and every blow
dealt out a deadly wound. Big Ferre, seeing his captain laid
low and almost dead already, uttered a bitter cry, and advanc
ing upon the English he topped them all, as he did his own fet

7 VOL. 2

144 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [CH. xxn.

lows, by a head and shoulders. Raising his axe, he dealt about
him deadly blows insomuch that in front of him the place was
soon a void ; he felled to the earth all those whom he could
reach ; of one he broke the head, of another he lopped off the
arms ; he bore himself so valiantly that in an hour he had with
his own hand slain eighteen of them, without counting the
wounded; and at this sight his comrades were filled with
ardor. What more shall I say? All that band of English
were forced to turn their backs and fly ; some jumped into the
ditches full of water ; others tried with tottering steps to re
gain the gates. Big Ferre, advancing to the spot where the
English had planted their flag, took it, killed the bearer, and
told one of his own fellows to go and hurl it into a ditch where
the wall was not as yet finished. ' I cannot,' said the other,
' there are still so many English yonder. ' ' Follow me with
the flag,' said Big Ferre, and marching in front, and laying
about him right and left with his axe, he opened and cleared
the way to the point indicated, so that his comrade could
freely hurl the flag into the ditch. After he had rested a
moment, he returned to the fight, and fell so roughly on the
English who remained, that all those who could fly hastened
to profit thereby. It is said that on that day, with the help of
God and Big Ferre, who, with his own hand, as is certified,
laid low more than forty, the greater part of the English who
had come to this business never went back from it. But the
captain on our side, William a-Larks, was there stricken
mortally : he was not yet dead when the fight ended ; he was
carried away to his bed ; he recognized all his comrades who
were there, and soon afterwards sank under his wounds.
They buried him in the midst of weeping, for he was wise and
good."

u At the news of what had thus happened at Longueil the
English were very disconsolate, saying that it was a shame
that so many and such brave warriors should have been slain
by such rustics. Next day they came together again from all
their camps hi the neighborhood, and went and made a vigor
ous attack at Longueil on our folks, who no longer feared them
hardly at all, and went out of their walls to fight them. In
the first rank was Big Ferre of whom the English had heard
so much talk. When they saw him and when they felt the
weight of his axe and his arm, many of those who had come to
this fight would have been right glad not to be there. Many
fled or were grievously wounded or slain. Some of the

CH. xxii.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 145

lish nobles were taken. If our folks had been willing to give
them up for money, as the nobles do, they might have made a
great deal; but they would not. When the fight was over,
Big Ferre, overcome with heat and fatigue, drank a large
quantity of cold water, and was forthwith seized of a fever.
He put himself to bed without parting from his axe, which was
so heavy that a man of the usual strength could scarcely lift ft
from the ground with both hands. The English, hearing that
Big Ferre was sick, rejoiced greatly, and for fear he should
get well they sent privily, round about the place where he was
lodged, twelve of their men bidden to try and rid them of him.
On espying them from afar, his wife hurried up to his bed
where he was laid, saying to him, ' My dear Ferre, the English
are coming, and I verily believe it is for thee they are looking ;
what wilt thou do?' Big Ferre, forgetting his sickness, armed
himself in all haste, took his axe which had already stricken
to death so many foes, went out of his house, and entering into
his little yard shouted to the English as soon as he saw
them, " Ah ! scoundrels, you are coming to take me in my bed ;
but you shall not get me." He set himself against a wall to be
in surety from behind, and defended himself manfully with
his good axe and his great heart. The English assailed him,
burning to slay or to take him ; but he resisted thorn so won-
drously that he brought down five much wounded to the
ground and the other seven took to flight. Big Ferre, return
ing in triumph to his bed, and heated again by the blows he
had dealt, again drank cold water in abundance and fell sick
of a more violent fever. A few days afterwards, sinking
under his sickness, and after having received the holy sacra
ments Big Ferre went out of this world, and was buried in the
burial-place of his own village. All his comrades and his
country wept for him bitterly, for, so long as he lived, the
English would not have come nigh this place."

There is probably some exaggeration about the exploits of
Big Ferre and the number of his victims. The story just
quoted is not, however, a legend ; authentic and simple, it has
all the characteristics of a real and true fact, just as it was
picked up, partly from eye-witnesses, and partly from hear
say, by the contemporary narrator. It is a faithful picture of
the internal state of the French nation in the fourteenth cent
ury ; a nation in labor of formation, a nation whose elements,
as yet scattered and incohesive though under one and the same
name, were fermenting each in its own quarter and independ-

146 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxn.

ently of the rest, with a tendency to mutual coalescence in a
powerful unity but, as yet, far from succeeding in it.

Externally, King Charles V. had scarcely easier work before
him. Between himself and his great rival, Edward III. king
of England, there was only such a peace as was fatal and hate
ful to France. To escape some day from the treaty of Bretigny
and recover some of the provinces which had been lost by it—
this was what king and country secretly desired and labored
for. Pending a favorable opportunity for promoting this
higher interest, war went on in Brittany between John of
Montf ort and Charles of Blois, who continued to be encouraged
and patronized, covertly, one by the king of England, the
other by the king of France. Almost immediately after the
accession of Charles V. it broke out again between him and his
brother-in-law, Charles the Bad, king of Navarre, the former
being profoundly mistrustful and the latter brazenfacedly per
fidious, and both detesting one another and watching to seize
the moment for taking advantage one of the other. The states
bordering on France, amongst others Spain and Italy, were a
prey to discord and even civil wars, which could not fail to be
a source of trouble or serious embarrassment to France. In
Spain two brothers, Peter the Cruel, and Henry of Trans-
tamare, were disputing the throne of Castile. Shortly after the
accession of Charles V., and in spite of his lively remonstran
ces, in 1367, Pope Urban V. quitted Avignon for Rome, whence
he was not to return to Avignon till three years afterwards,
and then only to die. The emperor of Germany was, at this
period, almost the only one of the great sovereigns of Europe
who showed for France and her kings a sincere good will.
When, in 1378, he went to Paris to pay a visit to Charles V.,
he was pleased to go to St. Denis to see the tombs of Charles
the Handsome and Philip of Valois. " In my young days," he
said to the abbot, ** I was nurtured at the homes of those good
kings, who showed me much kindness; I do request you
affectionately to make good prayer to God for them." Charles
V. who had given him a friendly reception was, no doubt, in
cluded in this pious request.

In order to maintain the struggle against these difficulties,
within and without, the means which Charles V. had at his
disposal were of but moderate worth. He had three brothers
and three sisters calculated rather to embarrass and sometimes
even injure him than to be of any service to him. Of his
brothers the eldest, duke of Anjou, was restless, harsh, and

CH. mi. J THE HUNDRED YEARS? WAR. 147

bellicose. He upheld authority with no little energy in Lan-
guedoc, of which Charles had made him governor, but at the
same time made it detested ; and he was more taken up with
his own ambitious views upon the kingdom of Naples, which
Queen Joan of Hungary had transmitted to him by adoption,
than with the interests of France and her king. The second,
John, duke of Berry, was an insignificant prince who has left
no strong mark on history. The third, Philip the Bold, duke
of Burgundy, after having been the favorite of his father, King
John, was likewise of his brother, Charles V., who did not
hesitate to still further aggrandize this vassal already so
great, by obtaining for him in marriage the hand of Princess
Marguerite, heiress to the countship of Flanders; and this
marriage, which was destined at a later period to render the
dukes of Burgundy such formidable neighbors for the kings of
France, was even in the lifetime of Charles V. a cause of un
pleasant complications both for France and Burgundy. Of
King Charles' three sisters, the eldest, Joan, was married to
the king of Navarre, Charles the Bad, and much more devoted
to her husband than to her brother; the second, Mary, espou
sed Robert, duke of Bar, who caused more annoyance than he
rendered service to his brother-in-law the king of France; and
the third, Isabel, wife of Galeas Visconti, duke of Milan, was
of no use to her brother beyond the fact of contributing, as we
have seen, by her marriage to pay a part of King John's ran
som. Charles V., by kindly and judicious behaviour hi the
bosom of his family, was able to keep serious quarrels or em
barrassments from arising thence ; but he found neither real
strength nor sure support.

His civil councillors, his chancellor, William de Dormans,
cardinal-bishop of Beauvais ; his minister of finance, John de
la Grange, cardinal-bishop of Amiens ; his treasurer, Philip de
Savoisy; and his chamberlain and private secretary, Bureau
de la Riviere, were, undoubtedly, men full of ability and zeal
for his service, for he had picked them out and maintained
them unchangeably in their offices. There is reason to believe
that they conducted themselves discreetly, for we do not ob
serve that after their master's death there was any outburst
against them, on the part either of court or people, of that vio
lent and deadly hatred which has so often caused bloodshed
in the history of France. Bureau de la Riviere was attacked
and prosecuted, without, however, becoming one of the victimg
of judicial authority at the command of political passions,

148 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxii,

None of Charles V.'s councillors exercised over his master
that preponderating and confirmed influence which makes a
man a premier minister. Charles V. himself assumed the
direction of his own government exhibiting unwearied vigi
lance "but without hastiness and without noise." There is
a work, as yet unpublished, of M. Leopold Delisle, which is to
contain a complete explanatory catalogue of all the Maude-
ments et Actes divers de Charles V. This catalogue, which
forms a pendant to a similar work performed by M. Delisle
for the reign of Philip Augustus, is not yet concluded; and,
nevertheless, for the first seven years only of Charles Vs
reign, from 1364 to 1371, there are to be found enumerated
and described in it 854 mandements, ordonnances et actes
divers de Charles F., relating to the different branches of ad
ministration and to daily incidents of government: acts all
bearing the impress of an intellect active, far-sighted, and
bent upon becoming acquainted with every thing and regulat
ing every thing not according to a general system but from
actual and exact knowledge. Charles always proved himself
reflective, unhurried, and anxious solely to comport himself
in accordance with the public interests and with good sense.
He was one day at table in his room with some of his inti
mates, when news was brought him that the English had laid
siege in Guienne, to a place where there was only a small
garrison not in a condition to hold out unless it were promptly
succored. " The king," says Christine de Pisan, " showed no
great outward emotion, and .quite coolly, as if the topic of
conversation were something else, turned and looked about
him and, seeing one of his secretaries, summoned him courte
ously and bade him, in a whisper, write word to Louis de San-
cerre, his marshal, to come to him directly. They who were
there were amazed that though the matter was so weighty
the king took no great account of it. Some young esquires
who were waiting upon him at table were bold enough to say
to him, * Sir, give us the money to fit ourselves out, as many
of us as are of your household, for to go on this business; we
will be new-made knights, and will go and raise the siege.'
The king began to smile, and said, * It is not new-made knights
that are suitable; they must be all old.' Seeing that he said
no more about it, some of them added, * What are your orders,
sir, touching this affair which is of haste?' ' It is not well to
give orders in haste ; when we see those to whom it is meet
to speak, we will give our orders.' "

CH. xxii.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 149

On another occasion, the treasurer of Nim.es had died and
the king appointed his successor. His brother, the duke of
Anjou, came and asked for the place on behalf of one of his
own intimates, saying that be to whom the king had granted
it was a man of straw and without credit. Charles caused
inquiries to be made, and then said to the duke, " Truly, fair
brother, he for whom you have spoken to me is a rich man,
but one of little sense and bad behavior," "Assuredly," said
the duke of Anjou, "he to whom you have given the office is
a man of straw and incompetent to fill it." "Why, prithee?"
asked the king. "Because he is a poor man, the son of small
laboring folks who are still tillers of the ground in our coun
try." "Ah!" said Charles; "is there nothing more? As
suredly, fair brother, we should prize more highly the poor
man of wisdom than the profligate ass ;" and he maintained in
the office him whom he had put there.

The government of Charles V. was the personal government
of an intelligent, prudent, and honorable king, anxious for the
interests of the State, at home and abroad, as well as for his
own, with little inclination for and little confidence in the free
co-operation of the country in its own affairs, but with wit
enough to cheerfully call upon it when there was any pressing
necessity, and accepting it then without chicanery or cheat
ing, but safe to go back as soon as possible to that sole
dominion, a medley of patriotism and selfishness, which is the
very insufficient and very precarious resource of peoples as
yet incapable of applying their liberty to the art of their own
government. Charles V. had recourse three times, in July,
1367, and in May and December, 1369, to a convocation of the
states-general, in order to be put in a position to meet the
political and financial difficulties of France. At the second of
these assemblies, when the chancellor, William de Dormans,
had explained the position of the kingdom, the king himself
rose up " for to say to all, that if they considered that he had
done any thing he ought not to have done, they should tell
him so, an he would amend what he had done, for their was
still time to repair it if he had done too much or not enough."
The question at that time was as to entertaining the appeal of
the barons of Aquitaine to the king of France as suzerain of
the prince of Wales, whose government had become intoler
able, and to thus make a first move to struggle out of the
humiliating peace of Bretigny. Such a step and such words
do great honor to the memory of the pacific prince who was

150 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [CH. xxn.

at that time bearing the burden of the government of France.
It was Charles V.'s good fortune to find amongst his servants
a man who was destined to be the thunderbolt of war and the
glory of knighthood of his reign. About 1314, fifty years
before Charles' V. 's accession, there was born at the castle of
Motte-Broon, near Rennes, in a family which could reckon
two ancestors amongst Godfrey de Bouillon's comrades in the
first crusade, Bertrand du Guesclin, "the ugliest child from
Rennes to Dinan," says a contemporary chronicle, flat-nosed
and swarthy, thickest, broad-shouldered, big-headed, a bad
fellow, a regular wretch, according to his own mother's words,
given to violence, always striking or being struck, whom his
tutor abandoned without having been able to teach him to
read. At sixteen years of age he escaped from the paternal
mansion, went to Eennes, entered upon a course of adventures,
quarrels, challenges, and tourneys, in which he distinguished
himself by his strength, his valor, and likewise his sense of
honor. He joined the cause of Charles of Blois against John
of Montfort, when the two were claimants for the duchy of
Brittany; but at the end of thirty years " neither the good of
him nor his prowess were as yet greatly renowned," says
Froissart, " save amongst the knights who were about him in
the country of Brittany." But Charles V., at that time
regent, had taken notice of him in 1359, at the siege of Meulun,
where Du Guesclin had for the first time borne arms in the
service of France. When, in 1364, Charles became king, he
said, to Boucicaut, marshal of France, "Boucicaut, get you
hence with such men as you have, and ride towards Nor
mandy; you will there find Sir Bertrand du Guesclin; hold
yourselves in readiness, I pray you, you and he, to recover
from the king of Navarre the town of Mantes, which would
make us masters of the river Seine." "Right willingly, sir,"
answered Boucicaut ; and a few weeks afterwards, on the 7th
of April, 1364, Boucicaut, by stratagem, entered Mantes with
his troop, and Du Guesclin, coming up suddenly with his,
dashed into the town at a gallop, shouting, " St. Yves! death,
death to all Navarrese 1" The two warriors did the same next
day at the gates of Meulan, three leagues from Mantes.
"Thus were the two cities taken, whereat King Charles V.
was very joyous when he heard the news ; and the king of
Navarre was very wroth, for he set down as great hurt the
loss of Mantes and of Meulan, which made a mighty fine en
trance for him into France."

OH. DOL] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 151

It was at Rheims during the ceremony of his coronation that
Charles V. heard of his two officers' success. The war thus
begun against the king of Navarre was hotly prosecuted on both
sides. Charles the Bad hastily collected his forces, Gascons,
Normans, and English, and put them under the command of
John de Grailli, called the Captal of Buch, an officer of renown.
Du Guesclin recruited in Normandy, Picardy, and Brittany,
and amongst the bands of warriors which were now roaming all
over France. The plan of the Captal of Buch was to go and
disturb the festivities at Rheims, but at Cocherel, on the banks
of the Eure, two leagues from Evreux, he met the troops of
Du Guesclin ; and the two armies, pretty nearly equal in num
ber, halted in view of one another. Du Guesclin held counsel
and said to his comrades in arms, " Sirs, we know that in front
of us we have in the Captal as gallant a knight as can be found
to-day on all the earth ; so long as he shall be on the spot he
will do us great hurt ; set we then a-horseback thirty of ours,
the most skilful and the boldest ; they shall give heed to noth
ing but to make straight towards the Captal, break through
the press, and get right up to him ; then they shall take him,
pin him, carry him off amongst them and lead him away some
whither in safety without waiting for the end of the battle.
If he can be taken and kept in such way, the day will be ours,
so astounded will his men be at his capture." Battle ensued at
all points [May 16, 1364] ; and, whilst it led to various encoun
ters with various results, * ' the picked thirty, well mounted on
the flower of steeds," says Froissart, "and with no thought
but for their enterprise, came all compact together to where
was the Captal, who was fighting right valiantly with his axe,
and was dealing blows so mighty that none durst come nigh him ;
but the thirty broke through the press by dint of their horses,
made right up to him, halted hard by him, took him and shut
him in amongst them by force ; then they voided the place and
bare him away in that state, whilst his men, who were like to
mad, shouted, * A rescue for the Captal I a rescue !' but naught
could avail them or help them ; and the Captal was carried off
and placed in safety. In this bustle and turmoil, whilst the
Navarrese and English were trying to follow the track of the
Captal, whom they saw being taken off before their eyes,
some French agreed with hearty good will to bear down on
the Captal's banner, which was in a thicket and whereof the
Navarrese made their own standard. Thereupon there was a
great tumult and hard fighting there, for the banner was well

152 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxn

guarded and by good men ; but at last it was seized, won, torn,
and cast to the ground. The French were masters of the bat
tle-field; Sir Bertrand and his Bretons acquitted themselves
loyally and ever kept themselves well together, giving aid one.
to another; but it cost them dear in men."

Charles was highly delighted, and after the victory resolutely
discharged his kingly part, rewarding and also punishing.
Du Guesclin was made marshal of Normandy, and received as
a gift the countship of Longueville, confiscated from the king
of Navarre. Certain Frenchmen who had become confidants
of the king of Navarre were executed, and Charles V. ordered
his generals to no longer show any mercy for the future to
subjects of the kingdom who were found in the enemy's ranks.
The war against Charles the Bad continued. Charles V., en
couraged by his successes, determined to take part likewise in
that which was still going on between the two claimants to the
duchy of Brittany, Charles of Blois and John of Montfort.
Du Guesclin was sent to support Charles of Blois, "whereat
he was greatly rejoiced," says Froissart, "for he had always
held the said lord Charles for his rightful lord." The count
and countess of Blois "received him right joyously and pleas
antly, and the best part of the barons of Brittany likewise had
lord Charles of Blois in regard and affection." Du Guesclin
entered at once on the campaign and marched upon Auray
which was being besieged by the count of Montfort. But there
he was destined to encounter the most formidable of his adver
saries. John of Montfort had claimed the support of his patron
the king of England, and John Chandos, the most famous of
the English commanders, had applied to the prince of Wales
to know what he was to do. "You may go full well," the
prince had answered, "since the French are going for the
count of Blois; I give you good leave." Chandos, delighted, set
hastily to work recruiting. Only a few Aquitanians decided
to join him, for they were beginning to be disgusted with Eng
lish rule, and the French national spirit was developing itself
throughout Gascony even in the prince of Wales' immediate
circle. Chandos recruited scarcely any but English or Bretons,
and when, to the great joy of the count of Montfort, he ar
rived before Auray, "he brought," says Froissart, "full six
teen hundred fighting-men, knights, and squires, English and
Breton, and about eight or nine hundred archers." Du Gues-
clin's troops were pretty nearly equal in number and not less
i>rave, but less well-disciplined and probably also less ably com-

CH. xxn.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 153

manded. The battle took place on the 29th of September, 1364,
before Auray. The attendant circumstances and the result
have already been recounted in the twentieth chapter of this
history ; Charles of Blois was killed and Du Guesclin was made
prisoner. The cause of John of Montf ort was clearly won ; and
he, on taking possession of the duchy of Brittany, asked noth
ing better than to acknowledge himself vassal of the king of
France and swear fidelity to him. Charles V. had too much
judgment not to foresee that, even after a defeat, a peace which
gave a lawful and definite solution to the question of Brittany
rendered his relations and means of influence with this impor
tant province much more to be depended upon than any suc
cess which a prolonged war might promise him. Accordingly
he made peace at Guerande, on the llth of April, 1365, after
having disputed the conditions inch by inch ; and some weeks
previously, on the 6th of March, at the indirect instance of the
king of Navarre, who, since the battle of Cocherel, had felt
himself in peril, Charles V. had likewise put an end to his
open struggle against his perfidious neighbor, of whom he cer
tainly did not cease to be mistrustful. Being thus delivered
from every external war and declared enemy, the wise king
of France was at liberty to devote himself to the re-establish
ment of internal peace and of order throughout his kingdom,
which was in the most pressing need thereof.

We have no doubt, even in our own day, cruel experience of
the disorders and evils of war ; but we can form, one would
say, but a very incomplete idea of what they were in the four
teenth century, without any of those humane administrative
measures, still so ineffectual — provisionings, hospitals, ambu
lances, barracks, and encampments — which are taken in the
present day to prevent or repair them. The Recueil des Ordon-
nances des Rois de France is full of safeguards granted by
Charles V. to monasteries and hospices and communes, which
implored his protection, that they might have a little less to
suffer than the country in general. We will borrow from the
best informed and the most intelligent of the contemporary
chroniclers, the Continuer of William of Nangis, a picture of
those sufferings and the causes of them. "There was not," he
says, "in Anjou, in Touraine, in Beauce, near Orleans and up
to the approaches of Paris, any corner of the country which
was free from plunderers and robbers. They were so numer
ous every where, either in little forts occupied by them or in
Ihe villages and country-places, that peasants and tradesfolk*

154 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. XXIL

couW not travel but at great expense and great peril. The very
guards told off to defend cultivators and travellers took part
most shamefully in harassing and despoiling them. It was
the same in Burgundy and the neighboring countries. Some
knights who called themselves friends of the king and of the
king's majesty, and whose names I am not minded to set down
here, kept in their service brigands who were quite as bad.
What is far more strange is that when those folks went into
the cities, Paris or elsewhere, every body knew them and
pointed them out, but none durst lay a hand upon them. I
saw one night at Paris, in the suburb of St. Germain des Pres,
while the people were sleeping, some brigands who were abid
ing with their chieftains in the city, attempting to sack certain
hospices; they were arrested and imprisoned in the Chatelet,
but, before long, they were got off, declared innocent, and set
at liberty without undergoing the least punishment : a great
encouragement for them and their like to go still farther. . . .
When the king gave Bertrand Du Guesclin the countship of
Longueville, in the diocese of Rouen, which had belonged to
Philip, brother of the king of Navarre, Du Guesclin promised
the king that he would drive out by force of arms all the plun
derers and robbers, those enemies of the kingdom ; but he did
nothing of the sort ; nay, the Bretons even of du Guesclin, on
returning from Eouen, pillaged and stole in the villages what
ever they found there, garments, horses, sheep, oxen, and
beasts of burden and of tillage."

Charles V. was not, as Louis XII. and Henry IV. were, of
a disposition full of affection and sympathetically inclined
towards his people ; but he was a practical man who, in his
closet and in the library growing up about him, took thought
for the interests of his kingdom as well as for his own ; he had
at heart the public good, and lawlessness was an abomination to
him. He had just purchased, at a ransom of a hundred thou
sand francs, the liberty of Bertrand du Guesclin, who had
remained a prisoner in the hands of John Chandos, after the
battle of Auray. An idea occurred to him that the valiant
Breton might be of use to him in extricating France from the
deplorable condition to which she had been reduced by the
bands of plunderers roaming every where over her soil. We
find in the Chronicle in verse of Bertrand Guesclin, by Cuvelier,
a troubadour of the fourteenth century, a detailed account oi
the king's perplexities on this subject and of the measures he
took to apply a remedy. We cannot regard this account ae

CH. XXIL] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 155

strictly historical ; but it is a picture, vivid and morally true,
of events and men as they were understood and conceived to
be by a contemporary, a mediocre poet but a spirited narrator.
We will reproduce the principal features, modifying the
language to make it more easily intelligible, but without
altering the fundamental character.

'* There were so many folk who went about pillaging the
country of France that the king was sad and doleful at heart.
He summoned his council and said to them : * What shall we
do with this multitude of thieves who go about destroying our
people? If I send against them my valiant baronage I lose my
noble barons, and then I shall never more have any joy of my
life. If any could lead these folk into Spain against the mis
creant and tyrant Pedro, who put our sister to death, I would
like it well whatever it might cost me.'

"Bertrand du Guesclin gave ear to the king, and ' Sir king,'
said he, ' it is my heart's desire to cross over the seas and go
fight the heathen with the edge of the sword ; but if I could
come nigh this folk which doth anger you I would deliver the
kingdom from them.' 'I should like it well, 'said the king.
' Say no more, ' said Bertrand to him, ' I will learn their pleas
ure; give it no further thought.'

" Bertrand du Guesclin summoned his herald, and said to
him, ' Go thou to the Grand Company and have all the cap
tains assembled ; thou wilt go and demand for me a safe-con,
duct, for I have a great desire to parley with them.' The
herald mounted his horse and went a-seeking these folk toward
Chalon-sur-la-Saone. They were seated together at dinner
and were drinking good wine from the cask they had pierced.
'Sirs,' said the herald, 'the blessing of Jesus be on you!
Bertrand du Guesclin prayeth you to let him parley with all in
company.' 'By my faith, gentle herald,' said Hugh de Cal-
verley, who was master of the English, 'I will readily see
Bertrand here, and will give him good wine ; I can well give it
him, in sooth, I do assure you, for it costs me nothing.' Then
the herald departed, and returned to his lord and told him the
news of this company.

" So away rode Bertrand, and halted not; and he rode so far
that he came to the Grand Company and then did greet them.
'God keep,' said he, 'the companions I see yonder!' Then
they bowed down; each abased himself. 'I vow to God,'
said Bertrand, 'whosoever will be pleased to believe me; I
will make you all rich.' And they answered, ' Right welcome

156 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxii

here; sir, we will all do whatsoever is your pleasure.* 'Sirs,1
said Bertrand, 'be pleased to listen to me; wherefore I am
come I will tell unto you. I come by order of the king in
whose keeping is France, and who would be right glad, to save
his people, that ye should come with me whither I should be
glad to go; into good company I fain would bring ye. If we
would all of us look into our hearts, we might full truly con*
sider that we have done enough to damn our souls ; think we
but how we have dealt with life, outraged ladies and burned
houses, slain men, children and every body set to ransom,
how we have eaten up cows, oxen, and sheep, drunk good
wines and done worse than robbers do. Let us do honor to
God and forsake the devil. Ask, if it may please you, all the
companions, all the knights and all the barons ; if you be of
accord, we will go to the king, and I will have the gold got
ready which we do promise you ; I would fain get together all
my friends to make the journey we so strongly desire.' "

Du Guesclin then explained, in broad terms which left the
choice to the Grand Company, what this journey was which
was so much desired. He spoke of the king of Cyprus, of the
Saracens of Granada, of the pope of Avignon, and especially
of Spain and the king of Castile, Pedro the Cruel, " scoundrel-
murderer of his wife (Blanche of Bourbon)," on whom above
all Du Guesclin wished to draw down the wrath of his
hearers. "In Spain," he said to them, "we might largely
profit, for the country is a good one for leading a good life,
and there are good wines which are neat and clear." Nearly
all present, whereof were twenty-five famous captains, "con
firmed what was said by Bertrand." " Sirs," said he to them
at last, "listen to me: I will go my way and speak to the king
of the Franks ; I will get for you those two hundred thousand
francs ; you shall come and dine with me at Paris, according
to my desire, when the time shall have come for it ; and you
shall see the king, who will be rejoiced thereat. We will have
no evil suspicion in anything, for I never was inclined to
treason and never shall be as long as I live." Then said the
valiant knights and esquires to him, * ' Never was more valiant
man seen on earth ; and in you we have more belief and faith
than in all the prelates and great clerics who dwell at Avignon
or in France."

When Du Guesclin returned to Paris, " Sir," said he to the
king, "I have accomplished your wish; I will put out of your
kingdom all the worst folk of this Grand Company, and I will

OH. xxn.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 157

BO work it that every thing shall be saved. " ' * Bertrand, " said
the king to him, "may the Holy Trinity be pleased to have you
in their keeping, and may I see you a long while in joy and
health!" "Noble king," said Bertrand, "the captains have a
very great desire to come to Paris, your good city." "I am
heartily willing," said the king; "if they come, let them
assemble at the Temple; elsewhere there is too much people
and too much abundance; there might be too much alarm.
Since they have reconciled themselves to us, I would have
naught but friendship with them."

The poet concludes the negotiation thus: "At the bidding of
Bertrand, when he understood the pleasure of the noble king
of France, all the captains came to Paris in perfect safety;
they were conducted straight to the Temple ; there they were
feasted and dined nobly, and received many a gift, and all
was sealed."

Matters went, at the outset at least, as Du Guesclin had pro
mised to the king on the one side, and on the other to the
captains of the Grand Company. There was, in point of fact,
a civil war raging in Spain between Don Pedro the Cruel, king
of Castile, and his natural brother, Henry of Transtamare, and
that was the theatre on which Du Guesclin had first proposed
to launch the vagabond army which he desired to get out of
France. It does not appear, however, that at their departure
from Burgundy at the end of November, 1365, this army and
its chiefs had in this respect any well considered resolution or
any well defined aim in their movements. They made first
for Avignon, and Pope Urban V,, on hearing of their approach,
was somewhat disquieted, and sent to them one of his cardinals
to ask them what was their will. If we may believe the
poet-chronicler, Cuvelier, the mission was any thing but
pleasing to the cardinal, who said to one of his confidants, " I
am grieved to be set to this business, for I am sent to a pack
of madmen who have not an hour's, nay, not even half -an-
hour's conscience." The captains replied that they were
going to fight the heathen either in Cyprus or in the kingdom
of Granada, and that they demanded of the pope absolution of
their sins and two hundred thousand livres, which Du Gues
clin had promised them in his name. The pope cried out
against this. " Here," said he, " at Avignon, we have money
given us for absolution, and we must give it gratis to yonder
folks, and give them money also: it is quite against reason."
Du Guesclin insisted. "Know you," said he to the cardinal,

258 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxn,

" that there are in this army many folks who care not a whit
for absolution and who would much rather have money ; we
are making them proper men in spite of themselves, and are
leading them abroad that they may do no mischief to Chris,
tians. Tell that to the pope ; for else we could not take them
away." The pope yielded and gave them the two hundred
thousand livres. He obtained the money by levies upon the
population of Avignon. They no doubt complained loudly,
for the chiefs of the Grand Company were informed thereof,
and Du Guesclin said, ' ' By the faith that I owe to the Holy
Trinity, I will not take a denier of that which these poor folks
have given ; let the pope and the clerics give us of their own ;
we desire that all they who have paid the tax do recover their
money without losing a doit ;" and, according to contemporary
chronicles, the vagabond army did not withdraw until they
had obtained this satisfaction. The piety of the middle ages,
though sincere, was often less disinterested and more rough
than it is commonly represented.

On arriving at Toulouse from Avignon, Du Guesclin and his
bands, with a strength, it is said, of 30,000 men, took the de
cided resolution of going into Spain to support the cause ot
Prince Henry of Transtamare against the king of Castile his
brother, Don Pedro the Cruel. The duke of Anjou, governor
of Languedoc, gave them encouragement, by agreement no
doubt with King Charles V. and from anxiety on his own part
to rid liis province of such inconvenient visitors. On the 1st
of January, 1366, Du Guesclin entered Barcelona, whither
Henry of Transtamare came to join him. There is no occasion
to give a detailed account here of that expedition, which apper
tains much more to the history of Spain than to that of France.
There was a brief or almost no struggle. Henry of Transta
mare was crowned king, first at Calahorra, and afterwards at
Burgos. Don Pedro, as much despised before long as he was
already detested, fled from Castile to Andalusia, and from An
dalusia to Portugal, whose king would not grant him an asy
lum in his dominions, and he ended by embarking at Corunna
for Bordeaux, to implore the assistance of the prince of Wales,
who gave him a warm and a magnificent reception. Edward
III., king of England, had been disquieted by the march of the
Grand Company into Spain, and had given John Chandos and
the rest of his chief commanders in Guienne orders to be vigi
lant in preventing the English from taking part in the expedi
tion against his cousin the king of Castile ; but several of the

OH. XXH.] THE HUNDRED YEARS? WAR. 159

English chieftains, serving in the bands and with Du Guesclin,
set at naught this prohibition, and contributed materially to
the fall of Don Pedro. Edward III. did not consider that the
matter was any infraction on the part of France of the treaty
of Bre"tigny, and continued to live at peace with Charles V.,
testifying his displeasure, however, all the same. But when
Don Pedro had reached Bordeaux, and had told the prince of
Wales that, if he obtained the support of England, he would
make the prince's eldest son, Edward, king of Galicia, and
share amongst the prince's warriors the treasure he had left in
Castile, so well concealed that he alone knew where, "the
knights of the prince of Wales," says Froissart, "gave ready
heed to his words, for English and Gascons are by nature cov
etous." The prince of Wales immediately summoned the ba
rons of Aquitaine, and on the advice they gave him sent four
knights to London to ask for instructions from the king his
father. Edward III. assembled his chief councillors at West
minster, and finally ' ' it seemed to all course due and reason
able on the part of the prince of Wales to restore and conduct
the king of Spain to his kingdom ; to which end they wrote of
ficial letters from the king and the council of England to the
prince and the barons of Aquitaine. When the said barons
heard the letters read they said to the prince, * My lord, we
will obey the command of the king our master and your father;
it is but reason, and we will serve you on this journey and
king Pedro also ; but we would know who shall pay us and de
liver us our wages, for one does not take men-at-arms away
from their homes to go a warfare in a foreign land without
they be paid and delivered. If it were a matter touching our
dear lord your father's affairs, or your own, or your honor or
our country's, we would not speak thereof so much beforehand
as we do.' Then the prince of Wales looked towards the
king Don Pedro and said to him, * Sir king, you hear what
these gentlemen say ; to answer is for you who have to employ
them.' Then the king Don Pedro answered the prince, 'My
dear cousin, so far as my gold, my silver, and all my treasure
which I have brought with me hither, and which is not a
thirtieth part so great as that which there is yonder, will go, I
am ready to give it and share it amongst your gentry.1 ' You
say well,' said the prince, 'and for the residue I will be debtor
to them, and I will lend you all you shall have need of until
we be in Castile.' 'By my head,' answered the king Don
Pedro, 'you will do me great grace and great courtesy.7"

160 HISTORY OF FRANCE, fen.

When the English and Gascon chieftains who had followed
Du Guesclin into Spain heard of the resolutions of their king,
Edward III., and the preparations made hy the prince of Wales
for going and restoring Don Pedro to the throne of Castile,
they withdrew from the cause which they had just brought to
an issue to the advantage of Henry of Transtamare, separated
from the French captain who had been their leader, and
marched back into Aquitaine, quite ready to adopt the con
trary cause and follow the prince of Wales in the service of
Don Pedro. The greater part of the adventurers, Burgundian,
Picard, Champagnese, Norman, and others who had enlisted
in the bands which Du Guesclin had marched out of France,
likewise quitted him, after reaping the fruits of their raid, and
recrossed the Pyrenees to go and resume in France their life
of roving and pillage. There remained in Spain about fifteen
hundred men-at-arms faithful to Du Guesclin, himself faithful
to Henry of Transtamare, who had made him constable of
Castile.

Amidst all these vicissitudes and at the bottom of all events
as well as of all hearts there still remained the great fact of
the period, the struggle between the two kings of France and
England for dominion in that beautiful country which, in spite
of its dismemberment, kept the name of France. Edward III.
in London, and the prince of Wales at Bordeaux, could not see
without serious disquietude, the most famous warrior amongst
the French crossing the Pyrenees with a following for the most
part French, and setting upon the throne of Castile a prince
necessarily allied to the king of France. The question of ri
valry between the two kings and the two peoples had thus
been transferred into Spain, and for the moment the victory
remained with France. After several months' preparation the
prince of Wales, purchasing the complicity of the king of Na
varre, marched into Spain in February, 1367, with an army of
27,000 men, and John Chandos, the most able of the English
warriors. Henry of Transtamare had troops more numerous
but less disciplined and experienced. The two armies joined
battle on the 3d of April, 1367, at Najara or Navarette, not far
from the Ebro. Disorder and even sheer rout soon took place
amongst that of Henry, who flung himself before the fugitives,
shouting, " Why would ye thus desert and betray me, ye who
have made me king of Castile? Turn back and stand by me;
and by the grace of God the day shall be ours." Du Guesclin
and his men-atrarms maintained the fight with stubborn com*

CH. xxn.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 161

age, but at last they were beaten and either slain or taken. To
the last moment Du Guesclin, with his back against a wall, de
fended himself heroically against a host of assailants. The
prince of Wales coming up, cried out, "Gentle marshals of
France, and you too, Bertrand, yield yourselves to me."
"Why, yonder men are my foes," cried the king Don Pedro;
"it is they who took from me my kingdom, and on them I
mean to take vengeance. " Du Guesclin darting forward struck
so rough a blow with his sword at Don Pedro that he brought
him fainting to the ground, and then turning to the prince of
Wales said, " Nathless I give up my sword to the most valiant
prince on earth." The prince of Wales took the sword, and
charged the Captal of Buch with the prisoner's keeping. * * Aha !
sir Bertrand, " said the Captal to Du Guesclin, ' ' you took me at
the battle of Cocherel, and to-day I've got you. " * ' Yes, " replied
Du Guesclin; "but at Cocherel I took you myself, and here
you are only my keeper."

The battle of Najara being over, and Don Pedro the Cruel re
stored to a throne which he was not to occupy for long, the
prince of Wales returned to Bordeaux with his army and his
prisoner Du Guesclin, whom he treated courteously, at the
same time that he kept him pretty strictly. One of the English
chieftains who had been connected with Du Guesclin at the
time of his expedition into Spain, sir Hugh Calverley, tried one
day to induce the prince of Wales to set the French warrior at
liberty. " Sir," said he, " Bertrand is a right loyal knight, but
he is not a rich man or in estate to pay much money ; he would
have good need to end his captivity on easy terms. " * * Let be, "
said the prince, " I have no care to take aught of his; I will
cause his life to be prolonged in spite of himself: if he were re
leased, he would be in battle again and always a-making war."
After supper, Hugh, without any beating about the bush, told
Bertrand the prince's answer. " Sir," he said, " I cannot bring
about your release." ' ' Sir," said Bertrand, " think no more of
it; I will leave the matter to the decision of God, who is a good
and just master. " Some time after, Du Guesclin having sent
a request to the prince of Wales to admit him to ransom, the
prince one day when he was in a gay humor had him brought
up, and told him that his advisers had urged him not to give
him his liberty so long as the war between France and England
lasted. "Sir,1- said Du Guesclin to him, "then am I the most
honored knight in the world, for 4they say, in the kingdom of
France and elsewhere, that you are more afraid of me than of

162 BISTORT OP FRANCE. [CH. an.

any other." " Think you, then, it is for your knighthood that
we do keep you?" said the prince: "nay, by St. George; fix
you your own ransom, and you shall be released." Du Guesclin
proudly fixed his ransom at a hundred thousand francs, which
seemed a large sum, even to the prince of Wales. "Sir," said
Du Guesclin to him, " the king in whose keeping is France will
lend me what I lack, and there is not a spinning-wench In
France who would not spin to gain for me what is necessary to
put me out of your clutches." The advisers of the prince of
Wales would have had him think better of it, and break his
promise; but "that which we have agreed to with him we
will hold to," said the prince; "it would be shame and con
fusion of face to us if we could be reproached with not setting
him to ransom when he is ready to set himself down at so
much as to pay a hundred thousand francs." Prince and
knight were both as good as their word. Du Guesclin found
amongst his Breton friends a portion of the sum he wanted;
King Charles V. lent him thirty thousand Spanish doubloons,
which, by a deed of December 27th, 1367, Du Guesclin under
took to repay: and at the beginning of 1368 the prince of Wales
set the French warrior at liberty.

The first use Du Guesclin made of it was to go and put his
name and his sword at the service first of the duke of Anjou,
governor of Languedoc, who was making war in Provence
against Queen Joan of Naples, and then of his Spanish patron,
Henry of Transtamare, who had recommenced the war in
Spain against his brother, Pedro the Cruel, whom he was
before long to dethrone for the second time and slay with his
own hand. But whilst Du Guesclin was taking part in this
settlement of the Spanish question, important events called
him back to the north of the Pyrenees for the service of his
own king, the defence of his own country, and the aggrandize
ment of his own fortunes. The English and Gascon bands
which, in 1367, had recrossed the Pyrenees with the prince
of Wales, after having restored Don Pedro the Cruel to the
throne of Castile, had not disappeared. Having no more to do
in their own prince's service, they had spread abroad over
France, which they called "their apartment," and recom
menced, in the countries between ttye Seine and the Loire,
their life of vagabondage and pillage. A general outcry was
raised ; it was the prince of Wales, men said, who had let them
loose, and the people called them the host (army) of England.
A proceeding of the prince of Wales himself had the effect of

CH. mi.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 163

adding to the rage of the people that of the aristocratic classes.
He was lavish of expenditure, and held at Bordeaux a magnifi
cent court, for which the revenues from his domains and ordi
nary resources were insufficient ; so he imposed a tax for five
years of ten sous per hearth or family, uin order to satisfy,"
he said, " the large claims against him." In order to levy this
tax legally, he convoked the estates of Aqmtaine, first at Niort
and then, successively, at Angouleme, Poitiers, Bordeaux,
and Bergerac; but nowhere could he obtain the vote he de
manded. "When we obeyed the king of France," said the
Gascons, "we were never so aggrieved with subsidies, hearth-
taxes, or gabels, and we will not be so long as we can defend
ourselves." The prince of Wales persisted in his demands.
He was ill and irritable, and was becoming truly the Black
Prince. The Aquitanians too became irritated. The prince's
more temperate advisers, even those of English birth, tried in
vain to move him from his stubborn course. Even John
Chandos, the most notable as well as the wisest of them, failed,
and withdrew to his domain of St. Sauveur, in Normandy, that
he might have nothing to do with measures of which he disap
proved. Being driven to extremity, the principal lords of
Aquitaine, the counts of Comminges, of Armagnac, of Peri-
gord, and many barons besides, set out for France, and made
complaint, on the 30th of June, 1368, before Charles V. and his
peers, "on account of the grievances which the prince of
Wales was purposed to put upon them." They had recourse,
they said, to the king of France as their sovereign lord, who
had no power to renounce his suzerainty or the jurisdiction
of his court of peers and of his parliament.

Nothing could have corresponded better with the wishes of
Charles V. For eight years past he had taken to heart the
treaty of Bretigny, and he was as determined not to miss as
he was patient in waiting for an opportunity for a breach of
it. But he was too prudent to act with a precipitation which
would have given his conduct an appearance of a premedi
tated and deep-laid purpose for which there was no legitimate
ground. He did not care to entertain at once and unre
servedly the appeal of the Aquitanian lords. He gave them a
gracious reception and made them "great cheer and rich
gifts;" but he announced his intention of thoroughly examin
ing the stipulations of the treaty of Bretigny and the rights of
his kingship. "He sent into his council-chamber for all the
charters of the peace, and then he had them read on several

164 BISTORT OF FRANCS. [CH.

days and at full leisure." He called into consultation the
schools of Boulogne, of Montpellier, of Toulouse, and of Or
leans, and the most learned clerks of the papal court. It was
not until he had thus ascertained the legal means of maintain
ing that the stipulations of the treaty of Bretigny had not all
of them been performed by the king of England, and that, con
sequently, the king of France had not lost all his rights of
suzerainty over the ceded provinces, that on the 25th of Janu
ary, 1369, just six months after the appeal of the Aquitaaian
lords had been submitted to him, he adopted it, in the follow
ing terms, which he addressed to the prince of Wales at Bor
deaux, and which are here curtailed in their legal expressions:

"Charles, by the grace of God king of France, to our
nephew the prince of Wales and of Aquitaine, greeting.
Whereas many prelates, barons, knights, universities, com
munes, and colleges of the country of Gascony and the duchy
of Aquitaine have come thence into our presence that they
might have justice touching certain undue grievances and
vexations which you, through weak counsel and silly advice,
have designed to impose upon them, whereat we are quite
astounded .... we of our kingly majesty and lordship do
command you to come to our city of Paris, in your own person,
and to present yourself before us in our chamber of peers, for
to hear justice touching the said complaints and grievances
proposed by you to be done to your people which claims to
have resort to our court. . . . And be it as quickly as you
may."

"When the prince of Wales had read this letter," says Frois-
sart, "he shook his head and looked askant at the aforesaid
Frenchmen ; and when he had thought a while, he answered,
'We will go willingly, at our own time, since the king of
France doth bid us, but it shall be with our casque on our
head, and with sixty thousand men at our back.' "

This was a declaration of war ; and deeds followed at once
upon words. Edward III. , after a short and fruitless attempt
at an accommodation, assumed on the 3d of June, 1369, the
title of king of France, and ordered a levy of all his subjects
between sixteen and sixty, laic or ecclesiastical, for the defence
of England, threatened by a French fleet which was cruising
in the Channel. He sent reinforcements to the prince of
Wales, whose brother, the duke of Lancaster, landed with an
army at Calais; and he offered to all the adventurers with
whom Europe was teeming possession of all the fiefs they could

CH. XXIL] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 165

conquer in France. Charles V. on his side vigorously pushed
forward his preparations ; he had begun them before he showed
his teeth, for as early as the 19th of July, 1368, he had sent
into Spain ambassadors with orders to conclude an alliance
with Henry of Transtamare against the king of England and
his son, whom he called "the duke of Aquitaine." On the 12th
of April, 1369, he signed the treaty which, by a contract of
marriage between his brother, Philip the Bold, duke of Bur
gundy, and the princess Marguerite of Flanders, transferred
the latter rich province to the House of France. Lastly he
summoned to Paris Du Guesclin, who, since the recovery of
his freedom, had been fighting at one time in Spain and at
another in the south of France, and announced to him his in
tention of making him constable. " Dear sir and noble king,"
said the honest and modest Breton, " I do pray you to have me
excused ; I am a poor knight and petty bachelor. The office of
constable is so grand and noble that he who would well dis
charge it should have had long previous practice and com
mand, and rather over the great than the small. Here are my
lords your brothers, your nephews, and your cousins, who will
have charge of men-at-arms in the armies, and the rides a-field,
and how durst I lay commands on them? In sooth, sir, jeal
ousies be so strong that I cannot well but be afeard of them.
I do affectionately pray you to dispense with me and to confer
it upon another who will more willingly take it than I, and
will know better how to fill it." " Sir Bertrand, sir Bertrand,"
answered the king, " do not excuse yourself after this fashion;
I have nor brother, nor cousin, nor nephew, nor count, nor baron
in my kingdom who would not obey you ; and if any should do
otherwise, he would anger me so that he would hear of it. Take
therefore the office with a good heart, I do beseech you." Sir
Bertrand saw well, says Froissart, "that his excuses were of
no avail, and finally he assented to the king's opinion ; but it
was not without a struggle and to his great disgust. ... In
order to give him further encouragement and advancement
the king did set him close to him at table, showed him all the
signs he could of affection, and gave him, together with the
office, many handsome gifts and great estates for himself and
his heirs." Charles V. might fearlessly lavish his gifts on the
loyal warrior, for Du Guesclin felt nothing more binding upon
him than to lavish them in his turn for the king's service. He
gave numerous and sumptuous dinners to the barons, knights,
and soldiers of every degree whom he was to command.

166 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxn

•• At Bertrand's plate gazed every eye,
So massive, chased so gloriously,"

says the poet-chronicler, Cuvelier ; but Du Guesclin pledged it
more than once, and sold a great portion of it in order to pay
"without fail the knights and honorable fighting-men of whom
he was the leader."

The war thus renewed was hotly prosecuted on both sides.
A sentiment of nationality became from day to day more keen
and more general in France. At the commencement of hostili
ties, it burst forth particularly in the North ; the burghers of
Abbeville opened their gates to the count of St. Pol, and in a
single week St. Valery, Crotoy, and all the places in the count-
ship of Ponthieu followed this example. The movement made
progress before long in the South. Montauban and Milhau
hoisted on their walls the royal standard; the archbishop of
Toulouse ''went riding through the whole of Quercy, preach
ing and demonstrating the good cause of the king of France;
and he converted, without striking a blow, Cahors and more
than sixty towns, castles, or fortresses." Charles V. neglected
no means of encouraging and keeping up the public impulse.
It has been remarked that, as early as the 9th of May, 1369, he
had convoked the states-general, declaring to them in person
that " if they considered that he had done any thing he ought
not they should say so, and he would amend it, for there was
still time for reparation if he had done too much or not
enough. " He called a new meeting on the 7th of December,
1369, after the explosion of hostilities, and obtained from them
the most extensive subsidies they had ever granted. They were
as staunch to the king in principle as in purse, and their inter
pretations of the treaty of Bretigny went far beyond the grounds
which Charles had put forward to justify war. It was not
only on the upper classes and on political minds that the king
endeavored to act, he paid attention also to popular impres
sions ; he set on foot in Paris a series of processions, in which
he took part in person, and the queen also, "barefoot and
unsandaled, to pray God to graciously give heed to the doings
and affairs of the kingdom."

But at the same time that he was thus making his appeal,
throughout France and by every means, to the feeling of na
tionality, Charles remained faithful to the rule of conduct
which had been inculcated in him by the experience of his
youth; he recommended, nay he commanded, all his military
captains to avoid any general engagement with the Englishi

CH. xxn.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 167

It was not without great difficulty that he wrung obedience
from the feudal nobility who, more numerous very often than
the English, looked upon such a prohibition as an insult, and
sometimes withdrew to their castles rather than submit to it;
and even the king's brother, Philip the Bold, openly in Bur
gundy testified his displeasure at it. Du Guesclin, having
more intelligence and firmness, even before becoming constable
and at the moment of quitting the duke of Anjou at Toulouse,
had advised him not to accept battle, to well fortify all the
places that had been recovered, and to let the English scatter
and waste themselves in a host of small expeditions and distant
skirmishes constantly renewed. When once he was constable,
Du Guesclin put determinedly in practice the king's maxim,
calmly confident in his own fame for valor whenever he had to
refuse to yield to the impatience of his comrades.

This detached and indecisive war lasted eight years, with a
medley of more or less serious incidents, which, however, did
not change its character. In 1370 the prince of Wales laid
siege to Limoges, which had opened its gates to the duke of
Berry. He was already so ill that he could not mount his
horse, and had himself carried in a litter from post to post, to
follow up and direct the operations of the siege. In spite of a
month's resistance the prince took the place and gave it up as
a prey to a mob of reckless plunderers whose excesses were
such that Froissart himself, a spectator generally so indifferent
and leaning rather to the English, was deeply shocked.
"There," said he, "was a great pity, for men, women, and
children threw themselves on their knees before the prince,
and cried, * Mercy, gentle sir!' but he was so inflamed with
passion that he gave no heed, and none, male or female, was
listened to, but all were put to the sword. There is no heart so
hard, but, if present then at Limoges and not forgetful of God,
would have wept bitterly, for more than three thousand per
sons, men, women, and children, were there beheaded on that
day. May God receive their souls, for verily they were mar
tyrs!" The massacre of Limoges caused, throughout France,
a feeling of horror and indignant anger towards the English
name. In 1373 an English army landed at Calais, under the
command of the duke of Lancaster, and overran nearly the
whole of France, being incessantly harassed, however, without
ever being attacked in force, and without mastering a single
fortress. "Let them be," was the saying in the king's circle;
" when a storm bursts out in a country, it leaves off afterwards

*- VOL. 2

168 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxn.

and disperses of itself; and so it will be with these English."
The sufferings and reverses of the English armies on this expe
dition were such, that, of 30,000 horses which the English had
landed at Calais, "they could not muster more than 6000 at
Bordeaux, and had lost full a third of their men and more.
There were seen noble knights who had great possessions in
their own country toiling along a-foot, without armor, and
begging their bread from door to door without getting any."
In vain did Edward III. treat with the duke of Brittany and
the king of Navarre in order to have their support in this war.
The duke of Brittany, John IV., after having openly defied the
king of France his suzerain, was obliged to fly to England, and
the king of Navarre entered upon negotiations alternately with
Edward III. and Charles V., being always ready to betray
either, according to what suited his interests at the moment.
Tired of so many ineffectual efforts, Edward III. was twice
obliged, between 1375 and 1377, to conclude with Charles V. a
truce just to give the two peoples, as well as the two kings,
breathing-time ; but the truces were as vain as the petty com
bats for the purpose of putting an end to this great struggle.

The great actors in this historical drama did not know how
near were the days when they would be called away from this
arena still so crowded with their exploits or their reverses. A
few weeks after the massacre of Limoges the prince of Wales
lost, at Bordeaux, his eldest son, six years old, whom he loved
with all the tenderness of a veteran warrior, so much the more
affected by gentle impressions as they were a rarity to him;
and he was himself so ill that ' ' his doctors advised him to re
turn to England, his own land, saying that he would probably
get better health there." Accordingly he left France, which
he would never see again, and, on returning to England, he,
after a few months' rest in the country, took an active part in
parliament in the home-policy of his country, and supported
the opposition against the government of his father, who, since
the death of the Queen, Philippa of Hainault, had been treat
ing England to the spectacle of a scandalous old age closing a
life of glory. Parliamentary contests soon exhausted the re
maining strength of the Black Prince, and he died on the 8th
of June, 1376, in possession of a popularity that never shifted
and was deserved by such qualities as showed a nature great
indeed and generous, though often sullied by the fits of passion
of a character harsh even to ferocity. "The good fortune
of England," says his contemporary Walsingham, "seemed

CH. XDL] THS HUNDRED YEARS WAR. 169

bound up with his person, for it flourished when he was well,
fell off when he was ill, and vanished at his death. As long as
he was on the spot the English feared neither the foe's invasion
nor the meeting on the battle-field ; but with him died all their
hopes." A year after him, on the 21st of June, 1377, died his
father, Edward III., a king who had been able, glorious, and
fortunate for nearly half a century, but had fallen towards the
end of his lif e into contempt with his people and into forgetful-
ness on the continent of Europe, where nothing was heard
about him beyond whispers of an indolent old man's indulgent
weaknesses to please a covetous mistress.

Whilst England thus lost her two great chiefs, France still
kept hers. For three years longer Charles V. and Du Guesclin
remained at the head of her government and her armies. The
truce between the two kingdoms was still in force when the
prince of Wales died, and Charles, ever careful to practise
knightly courtesy, had a solemn funeral service performed for
him in the Sainte-Chapelle ; but the following year, at the
death of Edward III., the truce had expired. The prince of
Wales' young son, Richard II., succeeded his grandfather, and
Charles, on the accession of a king who was a minor, was
anxious to reap all the advantage he could hope from that fact.
The war was pushed forward vigorously, and a French fleet
cruised on the coast of England, ravaged the Isle of Wight,
and burnt Yarmouth, Dartmouth, Plymouth, Winchelsea, and
Lewes. What Charles passionately desired was the recovery
of Calais ; he would have made considerable sacrifices to obtain
it, and in the seclusion of his closet he displayed an intelligent
activity in his efforts, by war or diplomacy, to attain this end.
"He had," says Froissart, "couriers going a-horseback night
and day, who, from one day to the next, brought him news
from eighty or a hundred leagues' distance, by help of relays
posted from town to town." This labor of the king had no
success; on the whole the war prosecuted by Charles V.
between Edward III.'s death and his own had no result of im
portance; the attempt, by law and arms, which he made in
1378, to make Brittany his own and reunite it to the crown,
completely failed, thanks to the passion with which the
Bretons, nobles, burgesses, and peasants, were attached to
their country's independence. Charles V. actually ran a risk
of embroiling himself with the hero of his reign; he had
ordered Du Guesclin to reduce to submission the countship of
Ronnea, his native land, and he showed some temper because

170 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xm,

the constable not only did not succeed, but advised him to make
peace with the duke of Brittany and his party. Du Guesclin,
grievously hurt, sent to the king his sword of constable, adding
that he was about to withdraw to the court of Castile, to
Henry of Transtamare, who would show more appreciation of
his services. All Charles V. 's wisdom did not preserve him
from one of those deeds of haughty levity which the handling
of sovereign power sometimes causes even the wisest kings to
commit, but reflection made him promptly acknowledge and
retrieve his fault. He charged the dukes of Anjou and
Bourbon to go and, for his sake, conjure Du Guesclin to remain
his constable ; and, though some chroniclers declare that Du
Guesclin refused, his will, dated the 9th of July, 1380, leads to
a contrary belief, for in it he assumes the title of constable of
France, and this will preceded the hero's death only by four
days. Having fallen sick before Chateauneuf-Randon, a
place he was besieging in the Gevaudan, Du Guesclin expired
on the 13th of July, 1380, at sixty -six years of age, and his
last words were an exhortation to the veteran captains around
him ' ' never to forget that, in whatsoever country they might
be making war, churchmen, women, children, and the poor
people were not their enemies. " According to certain contem
porary chronicles, or, one might almost say, legends, Chateau
neuf-Randon was to be given up the day after Du Guesclin died.
The marshal de Sancerre, who commanded the king's army,
summoned the governor to surrender the place to him ; but
the governor replied that he had given his word to Du Guesclin,
and would surrender to no other. He was told of the con
stable's death: " Very well," he rejoined, "I will carry the
keys of the town to his tomb. " To this the marshal agreed ;
the governor marched out of the place at the head of his garri
son, passed through the besieging army, went and knelt down
before Du Guesclin's corpse, and actually laid the keys of
Chateauneuf-Randon on his bier.

This dramatic story is not sufficiently supported by authentic
documents to be admitted as an historical fact ; but there is to
be found in an old chronicle concerning Du Guesclin [published
for the first time at the end of the fifteenth century, and in a
new edition by M. Francisque Michel in 1830] a story which, in
spite of many discrepancies, confirms the principal fact of the
keys of Chateauneuf-Randon being brought by the garrison to
the bier. * * At the decease of Sir Bertrand, " says the chronicler,
" a great cry arose throughout the host of the French. The

CH. xxn.] THE HUNDRED TSARS' WAR. 171

English refused to give up the castle. The marshal, Louis de
Sancerre, had the hostages brought to the ditches, for to have
their heads struck off. But forthwith the people in the castle
lowered their bridge, and the captain came and offered the
keys to the marshal, who refused them, and said to him,
* Friends, you have your agreements with sir Bertrand, and
ye shall fulfil them to him.' * God the Lord ! ' said the captain,
' you know well that sir Bertrand, who was so much worth, is
dead: how, then, should we surrender to him this castle?
Verily, lord marshal, you do demand our dishonor when you
would have us and our castle surrendered to a dead knight.'
' Needs no parley here upon, 'said the marshal, 'but do it at
once, for, if you put forth more words, short will be the lif e of
your hostages.' Well did the English see that it could not be
otherwise; so they went forth all of them from the castle,
their captain in front of them, and came to the marshal, who
led them to the hostel where lay sir Bertrand, and made them
give up the keys and place them on his bier, sobbing the while :
'Let all know that there was there nor knight nor squire,
French or English, who showed not great mourning.' '

The body of Du Guesclin was carried to Paris to be interred
at St. Denis, hard by the tomb which Charles V. had ordered
to be made for himself ; and nine years afterwards, in 1389,
Charles V.'s successor, his son Charles VI., caused to be cele
brated in the Breton warrior's honor a fresh funeral, at which
the princes and grandees of the kingdom, and the young king
himself, were present in state. The bishop of Auxerre de
livered the funeral oration over the constable ; and a poet of
the time, giving an account of the ceremony, says, —

"The tears of princes fell,
What time the bishop said,
' Sir Bertrand loved ye well,
Weep, warriors, for the dead!
The knell of sorrow tolls
For deeds that were so bright:
God save all Christian souls,
And his-the gallant knight! ' "

The life, character, and name of Bertrand du Guesclin were
and remained one of the most popular, patriotic, and legiti
mate boasts of the middle ages, then at their decline.

Two months after the ^constable's death, on the 16th of Sep
tember, 1380, Charles V. died at the castle of Beaut4-sur-Marne,
near Vincennes, at f orty-three years of age, quite young still

172 HISTORY OF FRANCS. [ca xnt

after so stormy and hard-working a life. His contemporaries
were convinced, and he was himself convinced, that he had been
poisoned by his perfidious enemy, King Charles of Navarre.
His uncle, Charles IV., emperor of Germany, had sent him
an able doctor, who "set him in good case and in manly
strength," says Froissart, by effecting a permanent issue in his
arm. " When this little sore," said he to him, "shall cease to
discharge and shall dry up, you will die without help for it,
and you will have at the most fifteen days' leisure to take
counsel and thought for the soul. " When the issue began to
dry up, Charles knew that death was at hand; and " like a
wise and valiant man as he was," says Froissart, " he set in
order all his affairs, and sent for his three brothers, in whom
he had most confidence, the duke of Berry, the duke of
Burgundy, and the duke of Bourbon, and he left in the lurch
his second brother, the duke of Anjou, because he considered
him too covetous. * My dear brothers,' said the king to them,
' I feel and know full well that I have not long to live. I do
commend and give in charge to you my son Charles. Behave
to him as good uncles should behave to their nephew. Crown
him as soon as possible after my death, and counsel him
loyally in all his affairs. The lad is young, and of a volatile
spirit ; he will need to be guided and governed by good doc
trine ; teach him or have him taught all the kingly points and
states he will have to maintain, and marry him in such lofty
station that the kingdom may be the better for it. Thank
God, the affairs of our kingdom are in good case. The duke of
Brittany [John IV., called the Valiant] is a crafty and a slip
pery man, and he hath ever been more English than French ;
for which reason keep the nobles of Brittany and the good
towns affectionate, and you will thus thwart his intentions. I
am fond of the Bretons, for they have ever served me loyally,
and helped to keep and defend my kingdom against my ene
mies. Make the lord Clisson constable, for, all considered, I
see none more competent for it than he. As to those aids and
taxes of the kingdom of France, wherewith the poorer folks
are so burthened and aggrieved, deal with them according to
your conscience, and take them off as soon as ever you can,
for they are things which, although I have upheld them, do
grieve me and weigh upon my heart ; but the great wars and
great matters which we have had on all sides caused me to
countenance them."
Of all the dying speeches and confessions of kings to their

CH. XXIL] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 173

family and their councillors, that which has just been put for
ward is the most practical, precise, and simple. Charles V.,
taking upon his shoulders at nineteen years of age, first as
king's lieutenant and as dauphin and afterwards as regent, the
government of France, employed all his soul and his life in re
pairing the disasters arising from the wars of his predecessors
and preventing any repetition. No sovereign was ever more
resolutely pacific ; he carried prudence even into the very prac
tice of war, as was proved by his forbidding his generals to
venture any general engagement with the English, so great a
lesson and so deep an impression had he derived from the
defeats of Crecy and Poitiers, and the causes which led to them.
But without being a warrior, and without running any hazard
ous risks, he made himself respected and feared by his enemies.
"Never was there king," said Edward III., "who handled
arms less, and never was there king who gave me so much to
do." When the condition of the kingdom was at the best, and
more favorable circumstances led Charles to believe that the
day had come for setting France free from the cruel conditions
which had been imposed upon her by the treaty of Bretigny,
he entered without hesitation upon that war of patriotic repa
ration; and, after the death of his two powerful enemies,
Edward III. and the Black Prince, he was still prosecuting it,
not without chance of success, when he himself died of the
malady with which he had for a long while been afflicted. At
his death he left in the royal treasury a surplus of seventeen
million francs, a large sum for those days. Nor the labors of
government, nor the expenses of war, nor farsighted economy
had prevented him from showing a serious interest in learned
works and studies, and from giv:-ig effectual protection to the
men who devoted themselves thereto. The University of Paris,
notwithstanding the embarrassments it sometimes caused him,
was always the object of his good-will. " He was a great lover
of wisdom," says Christine de Pisan, "and when certain folks
murmured for that he honored clerks so highly, he answered,
*So long as wisdom is honored in this realm, it will continue
in prosperity; but when wisdom is thrust aside, it will go
down.' " He collected nine hundred and fifty volumes (the
first foundation of the Royal Library), which were deposited
in a tower of the Louvre, called the library tower, and of
which he, in 1373, had an inventory drawn up by his personal
attendant, Gilles de Presle. His taste for literature and science
was not confined to collecting manuscripts. He had a French

174 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxra.

translation made, for the sake of spreading a knowledge thereof,
of the Bible in the first place, and then of several works of
Aristotle, of lavy, of Valerius Maximus, of Vegetius, and of
St. Augustine. He was fond of industry and the arts as well
as of literature. Henry de Vic, a German clockmaker, con
structed for him the first public clock ever seen in France, and
it was placed in what was called the Clock Tower in the Palace
of Justice ; and the king even had a clockmaker by appoint
ment, named Peter de St. Beathe. Several of the Paris monu
ments, churches, or buildings for public use were undertaken
or completed under his care. He began the building of the
Bastille, that fortress which was then so necessary for the
safety of Paris, where it was to be, four centuries later, the
object of the wrath and earliest excesses on the part of the
populace. Charles the Wise, from whatever point of view he
may be regarded, is, after Louis the Fat, Philip Augustus, St.
Louis, and Philip the Handsome, the fifth of those kings who
powerfully contributed to the settlement of France in Europe,
and of the kingship in France. He was not the greatest nor
the best, but, perhaps, the most honestly able. And at the
same time he was a signal example of the shallowness and in
sufficiency of human abilities. Charles V., on his death-bed,
considered that "the affairs of his kingdom were in good
case ;" he had not even a suspicion of that chaos of war, an
archy, reverses and ruin into which they were about to fall,
in the reign of his son, Charles VI.

CHAPTER XXHI.

THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR— CHARLES VI. AND THE DUKES OF

BURGUNDY.

SULLY, in his Memoirs, characterizes the reign of Charles
VI. as uthat reign so pregnant of sinister events, the grave
of good laws and good morals in France. " There is no ex
aggeration in these words; the sixteenth century with its
St. Bartholomew and The Leagtie, the eighteenth with its
reign of terror, and the nineteenth with its Commune of Paris
contain scarcely any events so sinister as those of which
France was, in the reign of Charles VI., from 1380 to 1422, the
theatre and the victim.

OH. xxm.] THE HUNDRED YEARS? WAR.

Scarcely was Charles V. laid on his bier when it was seen
what a loss he was and would be to his kingdom. Discord
arose in the king's own family. In order to shorten the ever
critical period of minority, Charles V. had fixed the king's
majority at the age of fourteen. His son, Charles VI., was
not yet twelve, and so had two years to remain under the
guardianship of his four uncles, the dukes of Anjou, Berrj;
Burgundy, and Bourbon ; but the last being only a maternal
uncle and a less puissant prince than his paternal uncles, it
was between the other three that strife began for temporary
possession of the kingly power. Though very unequal in
talent and in force of character, they were all three ambitious
and jealous. The eldest, the duke of Anjou, who was en
ergetic, despotic, and stubborn, aspired to dominion in France
for the sake of making French influence subserve the conquest
of the kingdom of Naples, the object of his ambition. The
duke of Berry was a mediocre, restless, prodigal, and grasp
ing prince. The duke of Burgundy, Philip the Bold, the
most able and the most powerful of the three, had been the
favorite, first of his father, King John, and then of his
brother, Charles V., who had confidence in him and readily
adopted his counsels. His marriage, in 1369, with the heiress
to the countship of Flanders, had been vigorously opposed by
the count of Flanders, the young princess's father, and by the
Flemish communes, ever more friendly to England than to
France; but the old countess of Flanders, Marguerite of
France, vexed at the ill-will of the count her son, had one day
said to him, as she tore open her dress before his eyes, " Since
you will not yield to your mother's wishes, I will cut off these
breasts which gave suck to you, to you and to no other, and
will throw them to the dogs to devour. " This singular argu
ment had moved the count of Flanders ; he had consented to
the marriage ; and the duke of Burgundy's power had received
such increment by it that on the 4th of October, 1380, when
Charles VI. was crowned at Rheims, Philip the Bold, with
out a word said previously to any, suddenly went up and sat
himself down at the young king's side, above his eldest
brother, the duke of Anjou, thus assuming, without any
body's daring to oppose him, the rank and the rights of
premier peer of France.

He was not slow to demonstrate that his superiority in ex
ternals could not fail to establish his political preponderance.
His father-in-law, Count Lo^afl of Fenders, was in almost

176 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [en.

continual strife with the great Flemish communes, ever on the
point of rising against the taxes he heaped upon them and the
blows he struck at their privileges. The city of Ghent, in
particular, joined complaint with menace. In 1381 the quar
rel became war. The Ghentese at first experienced reverses.
4 'Ah! if James van Artevelde were alive 1" said they. James
van Artevelde had left a son name Philip ; and there was in
Ghent a burgher-captain, Peter Dubois, who went one evening
to see Philip van Artevelde. " What we want now," said he,
"is to choose a captain of great renown. Raise up again in
this country that father of yours who, in his lifetime, was so
loved and feared in Flanders." " Peter," replied Philip, "you
make me a great offer ; I promise that, if you put me in that
place, I will do naught without your advice." "Ah, well!"
said Dubois, "can you really be haughty and cruel? The
Flemings like to be treated so ; with them you must make no
more account of the life of men than you do of larks when the
season for eating them comes." "I will do what shall be
necessary," said Van Artevelde. The struggle grew violent
between the count and the communes of Flanders with Ghent
at their head. After alternations of successes and reverses
the Ghentese were victorious ; and Count Louis with difficulty
escaped by hiding himself at Bruges in the house of a poor
woman who took him up into a loft where her children slept,
and where he lay flat between the palliasse and the feather
bed. On leaving this asylum he went to Bapaume to see his
son-in-law, the duke of Burgundy, and to ask his aid. "My
lord," said the duke to him, "by the allegiance I owe to you
and also to the king you shall have satisfaction. It were to
fail in one's duty to allow such a scum to govern a country.
Unless order were restored, all knighthood and lordship might
be destroyed in Christendom." The duke of Burgundy went
to Senlis, where Charles VI. was, and asked for his support
!on behalf of the count of Flanders. The question was referred
to the king's council. The duke of Berry hesitated, saying,
"The best part of the prelates and nobles must be assembled
and the whole matter set before them ; we will see what is the
general opinion." In the midst of this deliberation the young
king came in with a hawk on his wrist. "Welll my dear
uncles," said he, "of what are you parleying? Is it aught
that I may know?" The duke of Berry enlightened him,
saying, "A brewer, named Van Artevelde, who is English to
the core, is besieging the remnant of the knights of Flanders

OH. xxin.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 177

shut up in Oudenarde ; and they can get no aid but from you.
What say you to it? Are you minded to help the count of
Flanders to reconquer his heritage which those presumptuous
villains have taken from him?" "By my faith," answered
the king, "I am greatly minded; go we thither; there is
nothing I desire so much as to get on my harness, for I have
never yet borne arms; I would fain set out to-morrow."
Amongst the prelates and lords summoned to Compiegne some
spoke of the difficulties and dangers that might be encoun
tered. "Yes, yes," said the king, "but 'begin naught and
win naught. ' " When the Flemings heard of the king's de
cision they sent respectful letters to him, begging him to be
their mediator with the count their lord ; but the letters were
received with scoffs and the messengers were kept in prison.
At this news Van Artevelde said, "We must make alliance
with the English; what meaneth this King Wren of France?
It is the duke of Burgundy leading him by the nose, and he
will not abide by his purpose; we will frighten France by
showing her that we have the English for allies. " But Van
Artevelde was under a delusion ; Edward III. was no longer
king of England ; the Flemings' demand was considered there
to be arrogant and opposed to the interests of the lords in all
countries; and the alliance was not concluded. Some at
tempts at negotiation took place between the advisers of
Charles VI. and the Flemings, but without success. The count
of Flanders repaired to the king, who said, "Your quarrel is
ours; get you back to Artois; we shall soon be there and
within sight of our enemies."

Accordingly, in November, 1382, the king of France and
his army marched into Flanders. Several towns, Cassel,
Bergues, Gravelines, and Turnhout, hastily submitted to him.
There was less complete unanimity and greater alarm amongst
the Flemings than their chiefs had anticipated. "Noble
king," said the inhabitants, "we place our persons and our
possessions at your discretion, and to show you that we
recognize you as our lawful lord, here are the captains whom
Van Artevelde gave us; do with them according to your will,
for it is they who have governed us." On the 28th of No
vember the two armies found themselves close together at
Rosebecque, between Ypres and Courtrai. In the evening
Van Artevelde assembled his captains at supper, and " Com
rades," said he, " we shall to-morrow have rough work, for
the king of France is here all agog for fighting. But have no

178 HI3TOR7 OF FRANCS. [CH.

fear; we are defending our good right and the liberties of
Flanders. The English have not helped us; well, we shall
only have the more honor. With the king of France is all the
flower of his kingdom. Tell your men to slay all and show
no quarter. We must spare the king of France only ; he is a
child, and must be pardoned; we will take him away to
Ghent, and have him taught Flemish. As for the dukes,
counts, barons, and other men-at-arms, slay them all; the
commons of France will not bear us ill will ; I am quite sure
that they would not have a single one of them back." At the
very same moment King Charles VI. was entertaining at
supper the princes his uncles, the count of Flanders, the con
stable, Oliver de Clisson, the marshals, &c. They were ar
ranging the order of battle for the morrow. Many folks
blamed the duke of Burgundy for having brought so young a
king, the hope of the realm, into the perils of war. It was
resolved to confide the care of him to the constable de Clisson,
whilst conferring upon sire de Coucy, for that day only, the
command of the army. * ' Most dear lord, " said the constable
to the king, " I know that there is no greater honor than to
have the care of your person, but it would be great grief to
my comrades not to have me with them. I say not that they
could not do without me ; but for a fortnight now I have been
getting every thing ready for bringing most honor to you and
yours. They would be much surprised if I should now with
draw." The king was somewhat embarrassed. ''Constable,"
said he, "I would fain have you in my company to-day; you
know well that my lord my father loved you and trusted you
more than any other ; in the name of God and St. Denis do
whatever you think best. You have a clearer insight into the
matter than I and those who have advised me. Only attend
my mass to-morrow." The battle began with spirit the next
morning, in the midst of a thick fog. According to the monk
of St. Denis, Van Artevelde was not without disquietude. He
had bidden one Of his people go and observe the French army;
and "You bring me bad news," said he to the man in a
whisper, ''when you tell me there are so many French with
the king: I was far from expecting it. ... This is a hard
war: it requires discreet management. I think the best thing
for me is to go and hurry up ten thousand of our comrades
who are due." " Why leave thy host without a head?" said
they who were about him: "it was to obey thy orders that
We engaged in this enterprise; thou must run the risks of

or. xxm.] TEE HUNDRED TEARS WAR. 179

battle with us." The French were more confident than Van
Artevelde. "Sir," said the constable, addressing the king,
cap in hand, "be of good cheer; these fellows are ours; our
very varlets might beat them." These words were far too
presumptuous ; for the Flemings fought with great bravery.
Drawn up in a compact body, they drove back for a moment
the French who were opposed to them- but Clisson had made
every thing ready for hemming them in; attacked on all
sides they tried, but in vain, to fly; a few, with difficulty,
succeeded in escaping and casting, as they went, into the
neighboring swamps the banner of St. George. "It is not
easy," says the monk of St. Denis, "to set down with any cer
tainty the number of the dead; those who were present on
this day, and I am disposed to follow their account, say that
twenty-five thousand Flemings fell on the field, together with
their leader, Van Artevelde, the concocter of this rebellion,
whose corpse, discovered with great trouble amongst a heap
of slain, was, by order of Charles VI., hung upon a tree in the
neighborhood. The French also lost in this struggle some
noble knights, not less illustrious by birth than valor, amongst
others forty-four valiant men who, being the first to hurl
themselves upon the ranks of the enemy to break them, thus
won for themselves great glory."

The victory of Rosebecque was a great cause for satisfaction
and pride to Charles VI. and his uncle, the duke of Burgundy.
They had conquered on the field in Flanders the commonalty
of Paris as well as that of Ghent; and in France there was
great need of such a success, for, since the accession of the
young king, the Parisians had risen with a demand for actual
abolition of the taxes of which Charles V. , on his death-bed,
had deplored the necessity, and all but decreed the cessation.
The king's uncles, his guardians, had at first stopped and
indeed suppressed the greater part of those taxes, but soon
afterwards they had to face a pressing necessity: the war
with England was going on, and the revenues of the royal
domain were not sufficient for the maintenance of it. The
duke of Anjou attempted to renew the taxes, and one of
Charles Vs. former councillors, John Desmarets, advocate-
general in parliament, abetted him in his attempt. Seven
times, in the course of the year 1381, assemblies of notables
met at Paris to consider the project, and on the 1st of March,
1382, an agent of the governing power scoured the city at full
gallop, proclaiming the renewal of the principal tax. There

180 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. ran

was a fresh outbreak. The populace armed with all sorts of
weapons, with strong mallets amongst the rest, spread in all
directions, killing the collectors, and storming and plundering
the Hotel-de-Ville. They were called the Malleteers. They
were put down, but with as much timidity as cruelty. Some
of them were arrested, and at night thrown into the Seine,
sewn up in sacks, without other formality or trial. A fresh
meeting of notables was convened, towards the middle of
April, at Compiegne, and the deputies from the principal
towns were summoned to it ; but they durst not come to any
decision: "They were come, "they said, "only to hear and
report; they would use their best endeavors to prevail on
those by whom they had been sent to do the king's pleasure.'*
Towards the end of April some of them returned to Meaux,
reporting that they had every where met with the most lively
resistance; they had every where heard shouted at them,
"Sooner death than the tax." Only the deputies from Sens
had voted a tax, which was to be levied upon all merchandise ;
but, when the question of collecting it arose, the people of
Sens evinced such violent opposition that it had to be given
up. It was when facts and feelings were in this condition in
France that Charles VI. and the duke of Burgundy had set
out with their army to go and force the Flemish communes to
submit to their count.

Returning victorious from Flanders to France, Charles VI.
and his uncles, every where brilliantly feasted on their march,
went first of all for nine days to Compiegne "to find recrea
tion after their fatigues," says the monk of St. Denis, "in the
pleasures of the chase; afterwards, on the 10th of January,
1383, the king took back in state to the church of St. Denis
the oriflamme which he had borne away on his expedi
tion ; and next day, th*e llth of January, he re-entered Paris,
he alone being mounted, in the midst of his army." The
burgesses went out of the city to meet him and offer him their
wonted homage, but they were curtly ordered to retrace their
steps ; the king and his uncles, they were informed, could not
forget offences so recent. The wooden barriers which had
been placed before the gates of the city to prevent any body
from entering without permission, were cut down with battle-
axes ; the very gates were torn from their hinges ; they were
thrown down upon the king's highway, and the procession
went over them, as if to trample under foot the fierce pride
of the Parisians. When he was once in the city, and was

CH. xxra.] THE HUNDRED YEAR& WAR. 181

leaving Notre Dame, the king sent abroad throughout aU the
streets an order forbidding any one, under the most severe
penalties, from insulting or causing the least harm to the
burgesses in any way whatsoever; and the constable had two
plunderers strung up to the windows of the houses in which
they had committed their thefts. But fundamental order
having been thus upheld, reprisals began to be taken for the
outbreaks of the Parisians, municipal magistrates or popu
lace, burgesses or artisans, rich or poor, in the course of the
two preceding years; arrests, imprisonments, fines, confisca
tions, executions, severities of all kinds fell upon the most
conspicuous and the most formidable of those who had headed
or favored popular movements. The most solemn and most
iniquitous of these punishments was that which befell the
advocate-general, John Desmarets. "For nearly a whole
year," says the monk of St. Denis, "he had served as medi
ator between the king and the Parisians; he had often re
strained the fury and stopped the excesses of the populace, by
preventing them from giving rein to their cruelty. He was
always warning the factious that to provoke the wrath of the
king and the princes was to expose themselves to almost
certain death. But, yielding to the prayers of this rebellious
and turbulent mob, he, instead of leaving Paris as the rest of
his profession had done, had remained there, and throwing
himself boldly amidst the storms of civil discord, he had
advised the assumption of arms and the defence of the city,
which he knew was very displeasing to the king and the
grandees." When he was taken to execution, " he was put on
a car higher than the rest, that he might be better seen by
every body." Nothing shook for a moment the firmness of
this old man of seventy years. "Where are they who judged
me?" he said: "let them come and set forth the reasons for
my death. Judge me, O God, and separate my cause from
that of the evil-doers." On his arrival at the market-place
some of the spectators called out to him, " Ask the king's
mercy, master John, that he may pardon your offences. " He
turned round, saying, "I served well and loyally his great
grandfather King Philip, his grandfather King John, and his
father King Charles ; none of those kings ever had any thing
to reproach me with, and this one would not reproach me any
the more if he were of a grown man's age and experience. I
don't suppose that he is a whit to blame for such a sentence,
and I have no cause to cry him mercy. To God alone must I

182 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxni.

cry for mercy, and I pray Him to forgive my Bins." Public
respect accompanied the old and courageous magistrate beyond
the scaffold ; his corpse was taken up by his friends, and at a
later period honorably buried in the church of St. Catherine.

After the chastisements came galas again, of which the king
and his court were immoderately fond. Young as he was (he
was but seventeen), his powerful uncle the duke of Burgundy
was very anxious to get him married so as to secure his own
personal influence over him. The wise Charles V., in his
dying hours, had testified a desire that his son should seek
alliances in Germany. A son of the reigning duke, Stephen
of Bavaria, had come to serve in the French army, and the
duke of Burgundy had asked him if there were any marriage
able princess of Bavaria. "My eldest brother," answered the
Bavarian, "has a very beautiful daughter aged fourteen."
" That is just what we want," said the Burgundian: "try and
get her over here ; the king is very fond of beautiful girls ; if
she takes his fancy, she will be queen of France. " The duke
of Bavaria, being informed by his brother, at first showed
some hesitation. " It would be a great honor," said he, "for
my daughter to be queen of France ; but it is a long way from
here. If my daughter were taken to France and then sent
back to me, because she was not suitable, it would cause me
too much chagrin. I prefer to marry her at my leisure and in
my own neighborhood." The matter was pressed, however,
and at last the duke of Bavaria consented, It was agreed that
the Princess Isabel should go on a visit to the duchess of Bra
bant, who instructed her and had her well dressed, say the
chroniclers, for in Germany they clad themselves too simply
for the fashions of France. Being thus got ready the Princess
Isabel was conducted to Amiens, where the king then was, to
whom her portrait had already been shown. She was presented
to him and bent the knee before him. He considered her
charming. Seeing with what pleasure he looked upon her the
constable, Oliver de Clisson, said to sire de Coucy, "By my
faith, she will bide with us." The same evening the young
king said to his councillor, Bureau de la Riviere, " She pleases
me : go and tell my uncle the duke of Burgundy to conclude at
once." The duke, delighted, lost no time in informing the
ladies of the court, who cried " Noel 1" for joy. The duke had
wished the nuptials to take place at Arras; but the young
king in his impatience was urgent for Amiens, without delay,
saying that he couldn't sleep for her. "Well, well," replied

OH. rzni.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR 183

his uncle, "you must be cured of your complaint.*1 On the
18th of July, 1385, the marriage was celebrated at the cathe
dral of Amiens, whither the Princess Isabel " was conducted
in a handsome chariot, whereof the tires of the wheels were of
silvern stuff." King, uncles, and courtiers were far from a
thought of the crimes and shame which would be connected in
France with the name of Isabel of Bavaria. There is still more
levity and imprudence in the marriages of kings than in those
of their subjects.

Whilst this marriage was being celebrated, the war with
England and her new king Richard II. was going on, but
slackly and without result. Charles VI. and his uncle of Bur
gundy, still full of the proud confidence inspired by their suc
cess against the Flemish and Parisian communes, resolved to
strike England a heavy blow and to go and land there with a
powerful army. Immense preparations were made in France
for this expedition. In September, 1386, there were collected
in the port of Ecluse (Sluys) and at sea, between Sluys and
Blankenberg, thirteen hundred and eighty-seven vessels, ac^
cording to some, and according to others only nine hundred,
large and small ; and Oliver de Clisson had caused to be built
at Tre"guier, in Brittany, a wooden tower which was to be trans
ported to England and rebuilt after landing, "in such sort,"
says Froissart, "that the lords might lodge therein and retire
at night, so as to be in safety from sudden awakenings, and
sleep in greater security." Equal care was taken in the matter
of supplies. "Whoever had been at that time at Bruges, or
the Dam, or the Sluys would have seen how ships and vessels
were being laden by torchlight, with hay in casks, biscuits in
sacks, onions, pease, beans, barley, oats, candles, gaiters, shoes,
boots, spurs, iron, nails, culinary utensils, and all things that
can be used for the service of man." Search was made every
where for the various supplies and they were very dear. "If
you want us and our service," said the Hollanders, "pay us on
the nail; otherwise we will be neutral." To the intelligent
foresight shown in these preparations was added useless mag
nificence. " On the masts was nothing to be seen but paint
ings and gildings ; every thing was emblazoned and covered
with armorial bearings ; but nothing came up to the duke of
Burgundy's ship, it was painted all over outside with blue and
gold, and there were five huge banners with the arms of the
duchy of Burgundy and the countships of Flanders, Artois,
Bethel, and Burgundy, and every where the duke's device,

184 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxra.

* I'm a-longing. ' " The young king too displayed great anxiety
to enter on the campaign. He liked to go aboard his ship, say
ing, " I am very eager to be off ; I think I shall be a good sailor,
for the sea does me no harm." But every body was not so im
patient as the king, who was waiting for his uncle, the duke of
Berry, and writing to him letter after letter, urging him to
come. The duke, who had no liking for the expedition, con
tented himself with making an answer bidding him "not to
take any trouble, but to amuse himself, for the matter would
probably terminate otherwise than was imagined." The duke
of Berry at last arrived at Sluys on the 14th of October, 1386.
" If it hadn't been for you, uncle," said the king to him, " we
should have been by this time in England." Three months
had gone by ; the fine season was past ; the winds were becom
ing violent and contrary ; the vessels come from Treguier with
the constable to join the fleet had suffered much on the pas
sage; and deliberations were recommencing touching the op
portuneness and even the feasibility of the expedition thus
thrown back. "If any body goes to England, I will," said the
king. But nobody went. " One day when it was calm," says
the monk of St. Denis, "the king, completely armed, went
with his uncles aboard of the royal vessel; but the wind did
not permit them to get more than two miles out to sea, and
drove them back, in spite of the sailors' efforts, to the shore
they had just left. The king, who saw with deep displeasure
his hopes thus frustrated, had orders given to his troops to go
back and, at his departure, left, by the advice of his barons,
some men-of-war to unload the fleet and place it in a place of
safety as soon as possible. But the enemy gave them no time
to execute the order. As soon as the calm allowed the English
to set sail they bore down on the French, burnt or took in tow
to their own ports the most part of the fleet, carried off the
supplies, and found two thousand casks full of wine, which
sufficed a long while for the wants of England."

Such a mistake, after such a fuss, was probably not uncon
nected with a resolution adopted by Charles VI. some time
after the abandonment of the projected expedition against
England. In October, 1388, he assembled at Rheims a grand
council, at which were present his two uncles, the dukes of
Burgundy and Berry [the third, the duke of Anjou, had died
in Italy, on the 20th of September, 1384, after a vain attempt
to conquer the kingdom of Naples], his brother the duke of
Orleans, his cousins, and several prelates and lords of note.

CH. xxni. J THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 185

The chancellor announced thereat that he had been ordered
by the king to put in discussion the question whether it were
not expedient that he should henceforth take the government
of his kingdom upon himself. Cardinal Ascelin de Montaigu,
bishop of Laon, the first to be interrogated upon this subject,
replied that, in his opinion, the king was quite in a condition,
as well as in a legal position, to take the government of his
kingdom upon himself, and, without naming any body, he re
ferred to the king's uncles, and especially to the duke of Bur
gundy, as being no longer necessary for the government of
France. Nearly all who were present were of the same opinion.
The king, without further waiting, thanked his uncles for the
care they had taken of his dominions and of himself, and
begged them to continue their affection for him. Neither the
duke of Burgundy nor the duke of Berry had calculated upon
this resolution; they submitted without making any objection,
but not without letting a little temper leak out. The duke of
Berry even said that he and his brother would beg the king to
confer with them more maturely on the subject when he re
turned to Paris. Hereupon the council broke up ; the king's two
uncles started for their own dominions ; and a few weeks after
wards the cardinal bishop of Laon died of a short illness. ' ' It was
generally believed," says the monk of St. Denis, " that he died
of poison." At his own dying wish, no inquiry was instituted
on this subject. The measure adopted in the late council was,
however, generally approved of. The king was popular; he
had a good heart, and courteous and gentle manners ; he was
faithful to his friends, and affable to all ; and the people liked
to see him passing along the streets. On taking in hand the
government he recalled to it the former advisers of his father
Charles V., Bureau de la Eiviere, Le Mercier de Noviant, and
Le Begue de Vilaine, all men of sense and reputation. Thd
taxes were diminished ; the city of Paris recovered a portion
of her municipal liberties; there was felicitation for what had
been obtained, and there was hope of more.

Charles VI. was not content with the satisfaction of Paris
only, he wished all his realm to have cognizance of and to
profit by his independence. He determined upon a visit to
the centre and the south of France. Such a trip was to him
self and to the princes and cities that entertained him a cause
of enormous expense. "When the king stopped anywhere,
there were wanted for his own table, and for the maintenance
of his following, six oxen, eighty sheep, thirty calves, seven

186 HISTORY OF FRANCS. *• [CH. ixm.

hundred chickens, two hundred pigeons, and many other
things besides. The expenses for the king were set down at
two hundred and thirty livres a day, without counting the
presents which the large towns felt bound to make him." But
Charles was himself magnificent even to prodigality, and he
delighted in the magnificence of which he was the object, with
out troubling himself about their cost to himself. Between 1389
and 1390, for about six months, he travelled through Burgundy,
the banks of the Rhone, Languedoc, and the small principalities
bordering on the Pyrenees. Every where his progress was
stopped for the purpose of presenting to him petitions or ex*
pressing wishes before him. At Nimes and Montpellier, and
throughout Languedoc, passionate representations were made
to him touching the bad government of his two uncles, the dukes
of Anjou and Berry. * ' They had plundered and ruined, " he was
told, ' ' that beautiful and rich province ; there were five or six
talliages a year; one was no sooner over than another began;
they had levied quite three millions of gold from Villeneuve-
d' Avignon to Toulouse." Charles listened with feeling and
promised to have justice done, and his father's old councillors,
who were in his train, were far from dissuading him. The
duke of Burgundy, seeing him start with them in his train,
had testified his spite and disquietude to the duke of Berry,
saying, ' ' Aha ! there goes the king on a visit to Languedoc, to
hold an inquiry about those who have governed it. For all his
council he takes with him only La Riviere, Le Mercier, Mon-
taigu, and Le Begue de Yilaine. What say you to that, my
brother?" " The king our nephew is young," answered the
duke of Berry: "if he trusts the new councillors he is .taking,
he will be deceived, and it will end ill, as you will see. As
for the present, we must support him. The time will come
when we will make those councillors and the king himself rue
it. Let them do as they please, by God : we will return to our
own dominions. We are none the less the two greatest in the
kingdom, and so long as we are united none can do aught
against us."

The future is a blank as well to the anxieties as to the hopes
of men. The king's uncles were on the point of getting back
the power which they believed to be lost to them. On the 13th
of June, 1392, the constable, Oliver de Clisson, was waylaid as
he was returning home after a banquet given by the king at
the hostel of St. Paul. The assassin was Peter de Craon, cousin

CH. mn.] rUE HUNDRED YEAR& WAIL 187

of John IV., duke of Brittany. He believed De Clisson to be
dead, and left him bathed in blood at a baker's door in the
street called Culture-Sainte-Catherine. The king was just go
ing to bed, when one of his people came and said to him, ** Ahl
sir, a great misfortune has happened in Paris." "What, and
to whom?" said the king. " To your constable, sir, who has
just been slain." "Slain!" cried Charles; "and by whom?"
" Nobody knows; but it was close by here, in St. Catherine
Street." "Lights! quick!" said the king: "I will go and see
him ;" and he set off without waiting for his following. When
he entered the baker's shop, De Clisson, grievously wounded,
was just beginning to recover his senses. "Ah! constable,"
said the king, "and how do you feel?" "Very poorly, dear
sir." "And who brought you to this pass?" "Peter de
Craon and his accomplices; traitorously and without warn
ing," "Constable," said the king, "never was any thing so
punished or dearly paid for as this shall be ; take thought for
yourself, and have no further care; it is my affair." Orders
were immediately given to seek out Peter de Craon and hurry
on his trial. He had taken refuge, first in his own castle of
Sable, and afterwards with the duke of Brittany, who kept
him concealed and replied to the king's envoys that he did not
know where he was. The king proclaimed his intention of
making war on the duke of Brittany until Peter de Craon
should be discovered and justice done to the constable. Prepa
rations for war were begun; and the dukes of Berry and Bur
gundy received orders to get ready for it, themselves arid their
vassals. The former, who happened to be in Paris at the time
of the attack, did not care to directly oppose the king's pro
ject; but he evaded, delayed, and predicted a serious war.
According to Froissart he had been warned, the morning be
fore the attack, by a simple cleric, of Peter de Craon's design;
but "It is too late in the day," he had said, "I do not like to
trouble the king to-day ; to-morrow, without fail, we will see
to it." He had, however, forgotten or neglected to speak to
his nephew. Neither he nor his brother, the duke of Burgundy,
there is reason to suppose, were accomplices in the attack upon
De CJiisson, but they were not at all sorry for it. It was to
them an incident in the strife begun between themselves,
princes of the blood royal, and those former councillors of
Charles V., and now, again, of Charles VI., whom, with the
impertinence of great lords, they w»re wont to call the mar*

188 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH. xxm

mosettes. They left nothing undone to avert the king's anger
and to preserve the duke of Brittany from the war which was
threatening him,

Charles VI. 's excitement was very strong, and endured for
ever. He pressed forward eagerly his preparations for war.
though attempts were made to appease him. He was recom
mended to take care of himself; for he had been ill, and could
scarcely mount his horse; and the duke of Burgundy remonv
atrated with him several times on the fatigue he was incurring.
" I find it better for me," he answered, "to be on horseback, or
working at my council, than to keep resting. Whoso wishes
to persuade me otherwise is not of my friends, and is displeas*
ing to me." A letter from the queen of Arragon gave some
ground for supposing that Peter de Craon had taken refuge in
Spain; and the duke of Burgundy took advantage of it to dis
suade the king from his prompt departure for the war in
Brittany. ' * At the very least, " he said, ' * it was right to send to
Arragon to know the truth of the matter, and to thank the
queen for her courtesy." "We are quite willing, uncle,1' an
swered Charles: " you need not be vexed ; but for my own part
I hold that this traitor of a Peter de Craon is in no other prison
and no other Barcelona than there is in being quite comfortable
at the duke of Brittany's." There was no way of deterring him
from his purpose. He had got together his uncles and his
troops at Le Mans; and, after passing three weeks there, he
gave the word to march for Brittany. The tragic incident
which at that time occurred has nowhere been more faithfully
or better narrated than in M. de Barante's History of the
Dukes of Burgundy. "It was," says he, "the beginning of
August, 1392, during the hottest days of the year. The sun
was blazing, especially in those sandy districts. The king was
on horseback, clad in a short and tight dress called a jacket.
His was of black velvet, and very oppressive. On his head he
wore a cap of scarlet velvet, ornamented with a chaplet of large
pearls, which the queen had given him at his departure. Be
hind him were two pages on horseback. In order not to in
commode the king with dust, he was left to march almost
alone. To the left of him were the dukes of Burgundy and
Berry, some paces in front, conversing together. The duke of
Orleans, the duke of Bourbon, sire de Coucy, and some others
were also in front, forming another group. Behind were sires
de Navarre, de Bar, d' Albret, d'Artois, and many others in one
pretty large troop. Tuey rode along in this order, and had

CH. xxm.J THE HUNDRED YEARS WAR. 189

just entered the great forest of Le Mans, when all at once there
started from behind a tree by the roadside a tall man, with bare
head and feet, clad in a common white smock, who, dashing
forward and seizing the king's horse by the bridle, cried, * Go
no farther; thou art betrayed!" The men-at-arms hurried up
immediately, and striking the hands of the fellow with the
butts of their lances, made him let go the bridle. As he had
the appearance of a poor madman, and nothing more, he was
allowed to go without any questioning, and he followed the
king for nearly hah* an hour, repeating the same cry from a
distance. The king was much troubled at this sudden appari-
tion ; and his head, which was very weak, was quite turned
by it. Nevertheless the march was continued. When the
forest had been traversed, they came to a great sandy plain,
where the rays of the sun were more scorching than ever.
One of the king's pages, overcome by the heat, had fallen
asleep, and the lance he carried fell against his helmet, and
suddenly caused a loud clash of steel. The king shuddered;
and then he was observed, rising in his stirrups, to draw his
sword, touch his horse with the spur, and make a dash, crying,
* Forward upon these traitors ! They would deli ver me up to
the enemy ! ' Every one moved hastily aside, but not before
some were wounded ; it is even said that several were killed,
among them a bastard of Polignac. The king's brother, the
duke of Orleans, happened to be quite close by. *Fly, my
nephew d'Orleans,' shouted the duke of Burgundy; * my lord
is beside himself. My God! let some one try and seize him ! '
He was so furious that none durst risk it; and he was left to
gallop hither and thither, and tire himself in pursuit of first
one and then another. At last, when he was weary and bathed
in sweat, his chamberlain, William de Martel, came up behind
and threw his arms about him. He was surrounded, had his
sword taken from him, was lifted from his horse, and laid
gently on the ground, and then his jacket was unfastened.
His brother and his uncles came up, but his eyes were fixed
and recognized nobody, and he did not utter a word. * We
must go back to Le Mans,' said the dukes of Berry and Bur
gundy; * here is an end of the trip to Brittany.1 On the way
they fell in with a wagon drawn by oxen; in this they laid
the king of France, having bound him for fear of a renewal of
his frenzy, and so took him back, motionless and speechless, to
the town."
It was not a mere fit of delirious fever; it was the beginning

190 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. ron.

of a radical mental derangement, sometimes in abeyance or at
least for some time alleviated, but bursting out again without
appreciable reason and aggravated at every fresh explosion.
Charles VI. had always had a taste for masquerading. When
in 1389 the young queen Isabel of Bavaria came to Paris to be
married, the king, on the morning of her entry, said to his
chamberlain, sire de Savoisy, " Prithee, take a good horse and
I will mount behind thee; and we will dress so as not to be
known and go to see my wife come in." Savoisy did not like
it, but the king insisted; and so they went in this guise through
the crowd and got many a blow from the officers' staves when
they attempted to approach too near the procession. In 1393,
a year after his first outbreak of madness, the king, during an
entertainment at court, conceived the idea of disguising as sav
ages himself and five of his courtiers. They had been sewn up
in a linen skin which defined their whole bodies; and this skin
had been covered with a resinous pitch so as to hold sticking
upon it a covering of tow which made them appear hairy from
head to foot. Thus disguised these savages went dancing into
the ball-room ; one of those present took up a lighted torch and
went up to them ; and in a moment several of them were in
flames. It was impossible to get off the fantastic dresses cling
ing to their bodies. " Save the kingl" shouted one of the poor
masquers: but it was not known which was the king. The
duchess de Berry, his aunt, recognized him, caught hold of
him and wrapped him in her robe, saying, *' Do not move;
you see your companions are burning." And thus he was
saved amidst the terror of all present. When he was conscious
of his mad state, he was horrified; he asked pardon for the
injury he had done, confessed and received the communion.
Later, when he perceived his malady returning, he would
allude to it with tears in his eyes, ask to have his hunting-
knife taken away, and say to those about him, " If any of you,
by I know not what witchcraft, be guilty of my sufferings, I
adjure him, in the name of Jesus Christ, to torment me no
more, and to put an end to me forthwith without making me
linger so." He conceived a horror of Queen Isabel and, with
out recognizing her, would say when he saw her, "What
woman is this? What does she want? Will she never cease hep
importunities? Save me from her persecution !" At first great
care was taken of him. They sent for a skilful doctor from
Laon, named William de Harsely, who put him on a regimen
from which, for some time, good effects were experienced.

CH. xxm.] TEE HUNDRED YEARS? WAR. 191

But the doctor was uncomfortable at court; he preferred
going back to his little place at Laon, where he soon afterwards
died ; and eleven years later, in 1405, nobody took any more
trouble about the king. He was fed like a dog and allowed to
fall ravenously upon his food. For five whole months he had
not a change of clothes. At last some shame was felt for this
neglect and an attempt was made to repair it. It took a dozen
men to overcome the madman's resistance. He was washed,
shaved, and dressed in fresh clothes. He became more com
posed and began once more to recognize certain persons,
amongst others, the former provost of Paris, Juvenal des
Ursins, whose visit appeared to give him pleasure, and to
whom he said, without well knowing why, "Juvenal, let us
not waste our time." On his good days he was sometimes
brought in to sit at certain councils at which there was a dis
cussion about the diminution of taxes and relief of the people,
and he showed symptoms, at intervals, of taking an interest in
them. A fair young Burgundian, Odette de Champdivers, was
the only one amongst his many favorites who was at all suc
cessful in soothing him during his violent fits. It was Duke
John the Fearless who had placed her near the king that she
might promote his own influence, and she took advantage of it
to further her own fortunes, which, however, did not hinder
her from afterwards passing into the service of Charles VII.
against the House of Burgundy. For thirty years, from 1392
to 1422, the crown remained on the head of this poor madman,
whilst France was a victim to the bloody quarrels of the royal
house, to national dismemberment, to licentiousness in morals,
to civil anarchy, and to foreign conquest.

When, for the first time, in the forest of Le Mans, the dukes
of Berry and Burgundy saw their nephew in this condition
their first feeling was one of sorrow and disquietude. The
duke of Burgundy especially, who was accessible to generous
and sympathetic emotions, cried out with tears, as he em
braced the king, "My lord and nephew, comfort me with just
one word !" But the desires and the hopes of selfish ambition
reappeared before long more prominently than these honest
effusions of feeling. " Ah !" said the duke of Berry, " De Clis-
son, La Riviere, Noviant, and Vilaine have been haughty and
harsh towards me ; the time has come when I shall pay them
out in the same coin from the same mint." The guardianship
of the king was withdrawn from his councillors and trans
ferred to four chamberlains chosen by his uncles. The two

9 VOL. 2

192 8I8TOX7 OF FRAME. [CH. xxnj.

dukes, however, did not immediately lay hands on the govern
ment of the kingdom ; the constable De Clisson and the late
councillors of Charles V. remained in charge of it for some
time longer ; they had given enduring proofs of capacity and
fidelity to the king's service ; and the two dukes did not at first
openly attack them, but labored strenuously, nevertheless, to
destroy them. The duke of Burgundy one day said to sire de
Noviant, " I have been overtaken by a very pressing business
for which I require forthwith thirty thousand crowns ; let me
have them out of my lord's treasury ; I will restore them at
another time." Noviant answered respectfully that the coun
cil must be spoken to about it. "I wish none to know of it,"
said the duke. Noviant persisted. " You will not do me this
favor?" rejoined the duke, " you shall rue it before long." It
was against the constable that the wrath of the princes was
chiefly directed. He was the most powerful and the richest.
One day he went, with a single squire behind him, to the duke
of Burgundy's house; and " My lord," said he, "many knights
and squires are persecuting me to get the money which is owing
to them. I know not where to find it. The chancellor and the
treasurer refer me to you. Since it is you and the duke of
Berry who govern, may it please you to give me an answer."
1 'Clisson," said the duke, "you have no occasion to trouble
yourself about the state of the kingdom ; it will manage very
well without your services. Whence, pray, have you been
able to amass so much money? My lord, my brother of Berry,
and myself have not so much between us three. Away from
my presence and let me see you no more ! If I had not a re
spect for myself, I would have your other eye put out." Clis
son went out, mounted his horse, returned to his house, set his
affairs in order and departed, with two attendants, to his
strong castle of Montlhery. The two dukes were very sorry
that they had not put him under arrest on the spot. The rup
ture came to a climax. Of the king's four other councillors
one escaped in time ; two were seized and thrown into prison ;
the fourth, Bureau de la Riviere, was at his castle of Auneau,
near Chartres, honored and beloved by all his neighbors.
Everybody urged him to save himself. "If I were to fly or
hide myself," said he, "I should acknowledge myself guilty of
crimes from which I feel myself free. Here, as elsewhere, I
am at the will of God ; He gave me all I have, and He can take
it away whensoever He pleases. I served King Charles of
blessed memory and also the king his son; and they recomr

CH. xxm.] THE HUNDRED YEAR& WAR. 193

pensed me handsomely for my services. I will abide the judg
ment of the parliament of Paris touching what I have done
according to my king's commands as to the affairs of the
realm." He was told that the people sent to look for him were
hard by, and was asked, "Shall we open to them?" "Why
not?" was his reply. He himself went to meet them and re
ceived them with a courtesy which they returned. He was
then removed to Paris, where he was shut up with his col
leagues in the Louvre.

Their trial before parliament was prosecuted eagerly, especi
ally in the case of the absent De Clisson, whom a royal decree
banished from the kingdom ' ' as a false and wicked traitor to
the crown, and condemned him to pay a hundred thousand
marks of silver, and to forfeit for ever the office of constable."
It is impossible in the present day to estimate how much legal
justice there was in this decree ; but, in any case, it was cer
tainly extreme severity to so noble and valiant a warrior who
had done so much for the safety and honor of France. The
dukes of Burgundy and Berry and many barons of the realm
signed the decree ; but the king's brother, the duke of Orleans,
refused to have any part in it. Against the other councillors of
the king the prosecution was continued, with fits and starts of
determination, but in general with slowness and uncertainty.
Under the influence of the dukes of Burgundy and Berry
the parliament showed- an inclination towards severity ; but
Bureau de la Riviere had warm friends, and amongst others,
the young and beautiful duchess of Berry, to whose marriage
he had greatly contributed, and John Juvenal des Ursins, pro
vost of the tradesmen of Paris, one of the men towards whom
the king and the populace felt the highest esteem and con
fidence. The king, favorably inclined towards the accused by
his own bias and the influence of the duke of Orleans, pre
sented a demand to parliament to have the papers of the pro
cedure brought to him. Parliament hesitated and postponed
a reply ; the procedure followed its course ; and at the end of
some months further the king ordered it to be stopped, and
sires de la Riviere and Noviant to be set at liberty and to have
their real property restored to them, at the same time that
they lost their personal property and were commanded to re
main for ever at fifteen leagues' distance, at least, from the
court. This was moral equity if not legal justice. The
accused had been able and faithful servants of their king and
country. Their imprisonment had lasted more than a year,

194 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xim,

The dukes of Burgundy and Berry remained in possession of
power.

They exercised it for ten years, from 1392 to 1402, without
any great dispute between themselves, the duke of Burgundy's
influence being predominant, or with the king, who, save cer
tain lucid intervals, took merely a nominal part in the govern
ment. During this period no event of importance disturbed
France internally. In 1394 the king of England, Richard II.,
son of the Black Prince, sought in marriage the daughter of
Charles VI., Isabel of France, only eight years old. In both
courts and in both countries there was a desire for peace. An
embassy came in state to demand the hand of the princess.
The ambassadors were presented, and the earl of Northampton,
marshal of England, putting one knee to the ground before
her, said, 4< Madame, please God you shall be our sovereign
lady and queen of England." The young girl, well tutored,
answered, "If it please God and my lord and father that I
should be queen of England, I would be willingly, for I have
certainly been told that I should then be a great lady." The
Contract was signed on the 9th of March, 1396, with a premise
that, when the princess had accomplished her twelfth year, she
should be free to assent to or refuse the union; and ten days
after the marriage, the king's uncles and the English ambassa
dors mutually signed a truce, which promised — but quite in
vain— to last for eight and twenty years.

About the same time Sigismund, king of Hungary, threat
ened with an invasion of his kingdom by the great Turkish
Sultan, Bajazet I., nicknamed Lightning (El Derim), because
of his rapid conquests, invoked the aid of the Christian kings
of the West, and especially of the king of France. Thereupon
there was a fresh outbreak of those crusades so often renewed
since the end of the thirteenth century. All the knighthood
of France arose for the defence of a Christian king. John,
count of Nevers, eldest son of the duke of Burgundy, scarcely
eighteen years of age, said to his comrades, " If it pleased my
two lords, my lord the king and my lord and father, I would
willingly head this army and this venture, for I have a desire
to make myself known." The duke of Burgundy consented
and, in person, conducted his son to St. Denis, but without in
tending to make him a knight as yet. " He shall receive the
accolade," said he, "as a knight of Jesus Christ, at the first
battle against the infidels." In April, 1396, an army of new
crusaders left France and traversed Germany uproariously,

en. TUB.} THR HWWRVD YEARff WAH. 195

every where displaying its valiant ardor, presumptuous reck
lessness, and chivalrous irregularity. Some months elapsed
without any news; but, at the beginning of December, there
were seen arriving in France some poor creatures, half -naked,
dying of hunger, cold, and weariness, and giving deplorable
accounts of the destruction of the French army. The people
would not believe them: "They ought to be thrown into the
water," they said, "these scoundrels who propagate such
lies." But, on the 25th of December, there arrived at Paris
James de Helley, a knight of Artois, who, booted and spurred,
strode into the hostel of St. Paul, threw himself on his knees
before the king in the midst of the princes, and reported that
he had come straight from Turkey; that on the 28th of the
preceding September the Christian army had been destroyed
at the battle of Nicopolis; that most of the lords had been
either slain in battle or afterwards massacred by the sultan's
order; and that the count of Nevers had sent him to the king
and to his father the duke, to get negotiations entered into for
his release. There was no exaggeration about the knight's
story. The battle had been terrible, the slaughter awful. For
the latter the French, who were for a moment victorious, had
set a cruel example with their prisoners; and Bajazet had sur
passed them in cool ferocity. After the first explosion of the
father's and the people's grief, the ransom of the prisoners be
came the topic. It was a large sum, and rather difficult to
raise ; and, whilst it was being sought for, James de Helley re
turned to report as much to Bajazet, and to place himself once
more in his power. "Thou art welcome," said the sultan;
"thou hast loyaJ~kept thy word- I give thee thy liberty;
thou canst go wiujher thou wiliest." Terms of ransom were
concluded ; and ihe sum total was paid through the hands of
Bartholomew Pellegrini, a Genoese trader. Before the count
of Nevers and his comrades set out, Bajazet sent for them.
"John," said he to the count through an interpreter, " I know
that thou art a great lord in thy country, and the son of a
great lord. Thou art young. It may be that thou art abashed
and grieved at what hath befallen thee in thy first essay of
knighthood, and that, to retrieve thine honor, thou wilt collect
a powerful army against me. I might, ere I release thee, bind
thee by oath not to take arms against me, neither thyself nor
thy people. But no; I will not exact this oath either from
them or from thee. When thou hast returned yonder, take
up arms if it please thee, and come and attack me. Thou wilt

196 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [en. mn.

find me ever ready to receive thee in the open field, thee and
thy men-at-arms. And what I say to thee, I say for the sake
of all the Christians thou mayest purpose to bring. 1 fear
them not ; I was born to fight them, and to conquer the worid. n
Every where and at all times human pride, with its blind ar
rogance, is the same. Bajazet saw no glimpse of that future
when his empire would be decaying, and held together only by
the interested protection of Christian powers. After paying
dearly for their errors and their disasters, Count John of
Nevers and his comrades in captivity re-entered France in
February, 1398, and their expedition to Hungary was but one
of the last vain ventures of chivalry in the great struggle that
commenced in the seventh century between Islamry and
Christendom.

While this tragic incident was taking place in eastern Eu
rope, the court of the mad king was falling a victim to rivalries,
intrigues, and scandals which, towards the close of this reign,
were to be the curse and the shame of France. There had
grown up between Queen Isabel of Bavaria and Louis, duke of
Orleans, brother of the king, an intimacy which, throughout
the city and amongst all honorable people, shocked even the
least strait-laced. It was undoubtedly through the queen's in
fluence that Charles VI. , in 1402, suddenly decided upon put
ting into the hands of the duke of Orleans the entire govern
ment of the realm and the right of representing him in every
thing during the attacks of his malady. The duke of Bur
gundy wrote at once about it to the parliament of Paris, say
ing, "Take counsel and pains that the interests of the king and
his dominion be not governed as they now are, for, in good
truth, it is a pity and a grief to hear what is told me about it.1
The accusation was not grounded solely upon the personal ill-
temper of the duke of Burgundy. His nephew, the duke of
Orleans, was elegant, affable, volatile, good-natured; he had
for his partisans at court all those who shared his worse than
frivolous tastes and habits ; and his political judgment was no
better than his habits. No sooner was he invested with power
than he abused it strangely ; he levied upon the clergy as well
as the people an enormous talliage, and the use he made of the
money increased still further the wrath of the public. An
Augustine monk, named James Legrand, already celebrated
for his writings, had the hardihood to preach even before the
court against abuses of power and licentiousness of morals.
The king rose up from his own place and went and sat down

Off. XXIIL] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 197

right opposite the preacher. " Yes, sir," continued the monk,
" the king your father, during his reign, did likewise lay taxes
upon the people, but with the produce of them he built fort
resses for the defence of the kingdom, he hurled back the
enemy and took possession of their towns, and he effected a
saving of treasure which made him the most powerful amongst
the kings of the West. But now, there is nothing of this kind
done ; the height of nobility in the present day is to frequent
bagnios, to live in debauchery, to wear rich dresses with
pretty fringes and big cuffs. This, O queen, "he added, "is
what is said to the shame of the court; and, if you will not
believe me, put on the dress of some poor woman and walk
about the city, and you will hear it talked of by plenty of
people." In spite of his malady and his affection for his
brother, Charles VI., either from pure feebleness or because he
was struck by those truths so boldly proclaimed, yielded to
the councils of certain wise men who represented to him "that
it was neither a reasonable nor an honorable thing to entrust
the government of the realm to a prince whose youth needed
rather to be governed than to govern." He withdrew the
direction of affairs from the duke of Orleans and restored it to
the duke of Burgundy, who took it again and held it with a
strong grasp, and did not suffer his nephew Louis to meddle in
any thing. But from that time forward open distrust and
hatred were established between the two princes and their
families. In the very midst of this court-crisis Duke Philip
the Bold fell ill and died within a few days, on the 27th of
April, 1404. He was a prince valiant and able, ambitious, im
perious, eager in the pursuit of his own personal interests,
careful in humoring those whom he aspired to rule, and dis
posed to do them good service in whatever was not opposed to
his own ends. He deserved and possessed the confidence and
affection not only of his father, King John, but also of his
brother, Charles V., a good judge of wisdom and fidelity. He
founded that great House of Burgundy which was for more
than a century to eclipse and often to deplorably compromise
France; but Philip the Bold loved France sincerely, and always
gave her the chief place in his policy. His private life was
regular and staid amidst the scandalous licentiousness of his
court. He was of those who leave behind them unfeigned re
gret and an honored memory without having inspired their
contemporaries with any lively sympathy.
John the Fearless, count of Nevers, his son and successor in

198 HISTORY OF FRANC& (OH. xxm

the dukedom of Burgundy, was not slow to prove that there
was reason to regret his father. His expedition to Hungary,
fcr all its bad leadership and had fortune, had created esteem
for his courage and for his firmness under reverses, hut little
confidence in his direction of public affairs. He was a man of
violence, unscrupulous and indiscreet, full of jealousy and
hatred, and capable of any deed and any risk for the gratifica
tion of his passions or his fancies. At his accession he made
some popular moves; he appeared disposed to prosecute vigor
ously the war against England which was going on sluggishly?
he testified a certain spirit of conciliation by going to pay a
visit to his cousin, the duke of Orleans, lying ill at his castle of
Beaute, near Vincennes ; when the duke of Orleans was well
again, the two princes took the comir. union together and dined
together at their uncle's, the duke of Berry's; and the duke of
Orleans invited the new duke of Burgundy to dine with him
the next Sunday. The Parisians took pleasure in observing
these little matters, and in hoping for the re-establishment of
harmony in the royal family. They were soon to be cruelly
undeceived.

On the 23rd of November, 1407, the duke of Orleans had
dined at Queen Isabel's. He was returning about eight in the
evening along Vieille Hue du Temple, singing and playing with
his glove, and attended by only two squires riding one horse,
and by four or five varlets on foot carrying torches. It was a
gloomy night ; not a soul in the streets. When the duke was
about a hundred paces from the queen's hostel, eighteen or
twenty armed men, who had lain in ambush behind a house
called Image de Notre-Dame, dashed suddenly out; the squires1
horse took fright and ran away with them ; and the assassins
rushed upon the duke, shouting, "Death! death!" "What is
all this?" said he, "I am the duke of Orleans." "Just what
we want," was the answer; and they hurled him down from
his mule. He struggled to his knees; but the fellows struck at
him heavily with axe and sword. A young man in his train
made an effort to defend him and was immediately cut down;
and another, grievously wounded, had but just time to escape
into a neighboring shop. A poor cobbler's wife opened her
window and, seeing the work of assassination, shrieked,
"Murder! murder!" "Hold your tongue, you strumpet I'5
cried some one from the street. Others shot arrows at the
windows where lookers-on might be. A tall man, wearing a
red cap which came down over his eyes, said in a loud voice*

o«f. XXIIL] THE HUNDRED TEARS1 WAR.

"Out with all lights and away !" The assassins fled at the top
of their speed, shouting, "Fire! fire!" throwing behind them
foot-trippers, and by menaces causing all the lights to be put
out which were being lighted here and there in the shops.

The duke was quite dead. One of his squires, returning to
the spot, found his body stretched on the road and mutilated
all over. He was carried to the neighboring church of Blancs-
Manteaux, whither all the royal family came to render the last
sad offices. The duke of Burgundy appeared no less afflicted
than the rest. "Never, "said he, "was a more wicked and
traitorous murder committed in this realm." The provost of
Paris, sire de Tignouville, set on foot an active search after the
perpetrators. He was summoned before the council of princes,
and the duke of Berry asked him if he had discovered any
thing. "I believe," said the provost, "that if I had leave to
enter all the hostels of the king's servants, and even of the
princes, I could get on the track of the authors or accomplices
of the crime." He was authorized to enter wherever it seemed
good to him. He went away to set himself to work. The
duke of Burgundy looking troubled and growing pale, " Cou
sin," said the king of Naples, Louis d'Anjou, who was present
at the council, " can you know aught about it? You must tell
us." The duke of Burgundy took him, together with his uncle,
the duke of Berry, aside, and told them that it was he himself
who, tempted of the devil, had given orders for this murder.
"Oh God!" cried the duke of Berry, "then I lose both my
nephews !" The duke of Burgundy went out in great confusion
and the council separated. Research brought about the dis
covery that the crime had been for a long while in preparation,
and that a Norman nobleman, Raoul d'Auquetonville, late re
ceiver-general of finance, having been deprived of his post by
the duke of Orleans for malversation, had been the instrument.
The council of princes met the next day at the Hotel de Nesle.
The duke of Burgundy, who had recovered all his audacity,
came to take his seat there. Word was sent to him not to
enter the room. Duke John persisted ; but the duke of Berry
went to the door and said to him, " Nephew, give up the notion
of entering the council; you would not be seen there with
pleasure. " "I give up willingly, " answered Duke John ; * * and
that none may be accused of putting to death the duke of
Orleans, I declare that it was I and none other who caused the
doing of what has been done." Thereupon he turned his
horse's head, returned forthwith to the Hotel d'Artois, and

200 HISTORY OF FRANCS. [CH.xxiit

taking only six men with him he galloped without a halt, ex
cept to change horses, to the frontier of Flanders. The dukft
of Bourbon complained bitterly at the council that an immedi
ate arrest had not been ordered. The admiral de Brabant and
a hundred of the duke of Orleans' knights set out in pursuit,
but were unable to come up in time. Neither Raoul d'Auque-
tonville nor any other of the assassins was caught. The
magistrates as well as the public were seized with stupor in
view of so great a crime and so great a criminal.

But the duke of Orleans left a widow who, in spite of his
infidelities and his irregularities, was passionately attached to
him. Valentine Visconti, the duke of Milan's daughter, whose
dowry had gone to pay the ransom of King John, was at
Chateau-Thierry when she heard of her husband's murder.
Hers was one of those natures, full of softness and at the same
time of fire, which grief does not overwhelm and in which a
passion for vengeance is excited and fed by their despair. She
started for Paris in the early part of December, 1407, during
the roughest winter, it was said, ever known for several cen
turies, taking with her all her children. The duke of Berry,
the duke of Bourbon, the count of Clermont, and the constable
went to meet her. Herself and all her train in deep mourning,
she dismounted at the hostel of St. Paul, threw herself on her
knees before the king with the princes and council around him,
and demanded of him justice for her husband's cruel death.
The chancellor promised justice in the name of the king, who
added with his own lips, " We regard the deed relating to our
own brother as done to ourself." The compassion of all pres
ent was boundless, and so was their indignation ; but it was
reported that the duke of Burgundy was getting ready to re
turn to Paris, and with what following and for what purpose
would he come? Nothing was known on that point. There
was no force with which to make a defence. Nothing was
done for the duchess of Orleans; no prosecution begun. As
much vexed and irritated as disconsolate, she set out for Blois
with her children, being resolved to fortify herself there.
Charles had another relapse of his malady. The people of
Paris, who were rather favorable than adverse to the duke of
Burgundy, laid the blame of the king's new attack and of the
general alarm upon the duchess of Orleans, who was off in
flight. John the Fearless actually re-entered Paris on the 20th
of February, 1408, with a thousand men-at-arms, amidst popu
lar acclamation and cries of "Long live the duke of Bur

CH. XXIIL] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 201

gundy 1" Having taken up a strong position at the Hotel d' Ar-
tois, he sent a demand to the king for a solemn audience,
proclaiming his intention of setting forth the motives for which
he had caused the duke of Orleans to be slam. The 8th of
March was the day fixed. Charles VI., being worse than ever
that day, was not present ; the dauphin, Louis, duke of Guienne,
a child of twelve years, surrounded by the princes, councillors,
a great number of lords, doctors of the University, burgesses
of note, and people of various conditions, took his father's
place at this assembly. The duke of Burgundy had entrusted
a Norman Cordelier, master John Petit, with his justification.
The monk spoke for more than five hours, reviewing Sacred
History and the histories of Greece, Rome, and Persia, and the
precedents of Phineas, Absalom the son of David, Queen Atha-
liah, and Julian the Apostate, to prove "that it is lawful, and
not only lawful but honorable and meritorious in any subject
to slay or cause to be slain a traitor and disloyal tyrant, espe
cially when he is a man of such mighty power that justice can
not well be done by the sovereign." This principle once laid
down, John Petit proceeded to apply it to the duke of Bur
gundy "causing to be slain that criminal tyrant the duke of
Orleans, who was meditating the damnable design of thrusting
aside the king and his children from their crown;" and he
drew from it the conclusion that "the duke of Burgundy
ought not to be at all blamed or censured for what had hap
pened in the person of the duke of Orleans, and that the king
not only ought not to be displeased with him, but ought to
hold the said lord of Burgundy as well as his deed agreeable to
him and authorized by necessity. " The defence thus concluded,
letters were actually put before the king, running thus: " It is
our will and pleasure that our cousin of Burgundy, his heirs
and successors, be and and abide at peace with us and our
successors in respect of the aforesaid deed and all that hath
followed thereon ; and that by us, our said successors, our peo
ple and officers, no hindrance, on account of that, may be
offered them either now or in time to come."

Charles VI., weak in mind and will, even independently of
his attacks, signed these letters and gave Duke John quite a
kind reception, telling him, however, that "he could cancel the
penalty but not the resentment of every body, and that it was
for him to defend himself against perils which were probably
imminent." The duke answered proudly that "so long as he
stood in the king's good graces he did not fear any man living."

202 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [v*. xxra.

Three days after this strange audience and this declaration,
Queen Isabel, but lately on terms of the closest intimacy with
the duke of Orleans who had been murdered on his way home
after dining with her, was filled with alarm and set off sud
denly for Melun, taking with her her son Louis, the dauphin,
and accompanied by nearly all the princes, who, however, re*
turned before long to Paris, being troubled by the displeasure
the duke of Burgundy testified at their departure. For more
than four months Duke John the Fearless remained absolute
master of Paris, disposing of all posts, giving them to his own
creatures, and putting himself on good terms with the Univer
sity and the principal burgesses. A serious revolt amongst the
Liegese called for his presence in Flanders. The first troops he
had sent against them had been repulsed ; and he felt the ne
cessity of going thither in person. But two months after his
departure from Paris, on the 26th of August, 1408, Queen Isabel
returned thither from Melun, with the dauphin Louis, who for
the first time rode on horseback, and with three thousand men-
at-arms. She set up her establishment at the Louvre. The
Parisians shouted "Noel!" as she passed along; and the duke
of Berry, the duke of Bourbon, the duke of Brittany, the con
stable, and all the great officers of the crown rallied round her.
Two days afterwards, on the 28th of August, the duchess of
Orleans arrived there from Blois, in a black litter drawn by
four horses caparisoned in black, and followed by a large num
ber of mourning carriages. On the 5th of September a state
assembly was held at the Louvre. All the royal family, the
princes and great officers of the crown, the presidents of the
parliament, fifteen archbishops or bishops, the provost of
Paris, the provost of tradesmen, and a hundred burgesses of
note attended it. Thereupon master Juvenal des Ursins, king's
advocate, announced the intention of Charles VI. in his illness
to confer the government upon the queen, set forth the reasons
for it, called to mind the able regency of Queen Blanche, mother
of St. Louis, and produced royal letters sealed with the great
seal. Immediately the duchess of Orleans came forward, knelt
at the dauphin's feet, demanding justice for the death of her
husband, and begged that she might have a day appointed her
for refuting the calumnies with which it had been sought to
blacken his memory. The dauphin promised a speedy reply.
On the llth of September, accordingly, a new meeting of
princes, lords, prelates, parliament, the University, and bur
gesses was held in the great hall of the Louvre. The duchess

CH. xxm.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 203

of Orleans, the duke her son, their chancellor, and the principal
officers of her household were introduced, and leave was given
them to proceed with the justification of the late duke of Or
leans. It had heen prepared beforehand ; the duchess placed
the manuscript before the council, as pledging herself unre
servedly to all it contained, and master Serisy, abbot of St.
Fiacre, a monk of the order of St. Benedict, read the document
out publicly. It was a long and learned defence in which the
imputations made by the Cordelier, John Petit, against the late
duke of Orleans, were effectually and in some parts eloquently
refuted. After the justification, master Cousinot, advocate of
the duchess of Orleans, presented in person his demands against
the duke of Burgundy. They claimed that he should be bound
to come "without belt or chaperon" and disavow solemnly and
publicly, on his knees before the royal family and also on the
very spot where the crime was committed, the murder of the
duke of Orleans. After several other acts of reparation which
were imposed upon him, he was to be sent into exile for twenty
years beyond the seas, and on his return to remain at twenty
leagues' distance, at least, from the king and the royal family.
After reading these demands, which were more legitimate than
practicable, the young dauphin, well instructed as to what he
had to say, addressed the duchess of Orleans and her children
in these terms: " We and all the princes of the blood royal
here present, after having heard the justification of our uncle,
the duke of Orleans, have no doubt left touching the honor of
his memory and do hold him to be completely cleared of all
that hath been said contrary to his reputation. As to the fur
ther demands you make they shall be suitably provided for in
course of justice." At this answer the assembly broke up.

It had just been reported that the duke of Burgundy had
completely beaten and reduced to submission the insurgent
Liegese and that he was preparing to return to Paris with his
army. Great was the consternation amongst the council of
the queen and princes. They feared above every thing to see
the king and the dauphin in the duke of Burgundy's power;
and it was decided to quit Paris which had always testified a
favorable disposition towards Duke John. Charles VI. was
the first to depart, on the 3rd of November, 1408. The queen,
the dauphin, and the princes followed him two days afterwards,
and at Gien they all took boat on the Loire to go to Tours.
The duke of Burgundy on his arrival at Paris, on the 28th of
November, found not a soul belonging to the royal family OB

204 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxra,

the court; and he felt a moment's embarrassment. Even his
audacity and lack of scruple did not go to the extent of doing
without the king altogether, or even of dispensing with having
him for a tool ; and he had seen too much of the Parisian popu
lace not to know how precarious and fickle was its favor. He
determined to negotiate with the king's party, and for that
purpose he sent his brother-in-law, the count of Hainault, to
Tours, with a brilliant train of unarmed attendants, bidden to
make themselves agreeable and not to fight.

A recent event had probably much to do with his decision.
His most indomitable foe, she to whom the king and his coun
cillors had lately granted a portion of the vengeance she was
seeking to take on him, Valentine of Milan, duchess of Orleans,
died on the 4th of December, 1408, at Blois, far from satisfied
with the moral reparation she had obtained in her enemy's ab
sence, and clearly foreseeing that against the duke of Bur
gundy, flushed with victory and present in person, she would
obtain nothing of what she had asked. For spirits of the best
mettle, and especially for a woman's heart, impotent passion is
a heavy burden to bear; and Valentine Visconti, beautiful,
amiable, and unhappy even in her best days through the fault
of the husband she loved, sank under this trial. At the close
of her life she had taken for device, "Naught have I more,
more hold I naught" (Rien ne m'est plus ; plus ne m'est rieri) ;
and so fully was that her habitual feeling that she had the
words inscribed upon the black tapestry of her chamber. In
her last hours she had by her side her three sons and her
daughter, but there was another still whom she remembered.
She sent for a child, six years of age, John, a natural son of
her husband by Marietta d'Enghien, wife of sire de Cany-
Dunois. "This one," said she, "was filched from me; yet
there is not a child so well cut out as he to avenge his father's
death." Twenty-five years later John was the famous bastard
of Orleans, Count Dunois, Charles VII. 's lieutenant-general and
Joan of Arc's comrade in the work of saving the French king
ship and France.

The duke of Burgundy's negotiations at Tours were not fruit
less. The result was that on the 9th of March, 1409, a treaty
was concluded and an interview effected at Chartres between
the duke on one side and on the other the king, the queen, the
dauphin, all the royal family, the councillors of the crown, the
young duke of Orleans, his brother, and a hundred knights of
their house, all met together to hear the king declare that he

CH. ran.] THB HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 20&

pardoned the duke of Burgundy. The duke prayed " my lord
of Orleans and my lords his brothers to banish from their
hearts all hatred and vengeance ;" and the princes of Orleans
4 'assented to what the king commanded them and forgave
their cousin the duke of Burgundy every thing entirely." On
the way back from Chartres the duke of Burgundy's fool kept
playing with a church-paten (called " peace") and thrusting it
under his cloak, saying, "See, this is a cloak of peace;" and
"Many folks," says Juvenal des Ursins, "considered this fool
pretty wise." The duke of Burgundy had good reason, how
ever, for seeking this outward reconciliation ; it put an end to
a position too extended not to become pretty soon untenable;
the peace was a cause of great joy at Paris ; the king was not
long coming back; and two hundred thousand persons, says
the chronicle, went out to meet him, shouting " Noel I" The
duke of Burgundy had gone out to receive him; and the queen
and the princes arrived two days afterwards. It was not
known at the time, though it was perhaps the most serious re
sult of the negotiation, that a secret understanding had been
established between John the Fearless and Isabel of Bavaria.
The queen, as false as she was dissolute, had seen that the duke
might be of service to her on occasion if she served him in her
turn, and they had added the falsehood of their undivulged
arrangement to that of the general reconciliation.

But falsehood does not extinguish the facts it attempts to dis
guise. The hostility between the houses of Orleans and Bur
gundy could not fail to survive the treaty of Chartres and
cause search to be made for a man to head the struggle so soon
as it could be recommenced. The hour and the man were not
long waited for. In the very year of the treaty, Charles of
Orleans, eldest son of the murdered duke and Valentine of
Milan, lost his wife, Isabel of France, daughter of Charles VI. ;
and as early as the following year (1410) the princes, his uncles,
made him marry Bonne d'Armagnac, daughter of Count Ber
nard d'Armagnac, one of the most powerful, the most able, and
the most ambitious lords of southern France. Forthwith, in
concert with the duke of Berry, the duke of Brittany, and
several other lords, Count Bernard put himself at the head of
the Orleans party, and prepared to proceed against the duke of
Burgundy in the cause of dominion combined with vengeance.
From 1410 to 1415 France was a prey to civil war between the
Armagnacs and Burgundians and to their alternate successes
and reverses brought about by the unscrupulous employment

206 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxiii.

of the most odious and desperate means. The Burgundians
had generally the advantage in the struggle, for Paris was
chiefly the centre of it, and their influence was predominant
there. Their principal allies there were the butchers, the bold
est and most ambitious corporation in the city. For a long
time the butcher-trade of Paris had been in the hands of a
score of families ; the number had been repeatedly reduced, and
at the opening of the fifteenth century three families, the Le-
goix, the St. Yons, and the Thiberts, had exercised absolute
mastery in the market-districts, which in turn exercised mas
tery over nearly the whole city. "OneCaboche, a flayer of
beasts in the shambles of Hotel-Dieu, and master John de
Troyes, a surgeon with a talent for speaking, were their most
active associates. Their company consisted of prentice-
butchers, medical students, skinners, tailors, and every kind
of lewd fellows. When any body caused their displeasure
they said, ' Here's an Armagnac,' and despatched him on the
spot, and plundered his house, or dragged him off to prison to
pay dear for his release. The rich burgesses lived in fear and
peril. More than three hundred of them went off to Melun
with the provost of tradesmen, who could no longer answer for
the tranquillity of the city." The Armagnacs, in spite of their
general inferiority, sometimes got the upper hand and did not
then behave with much more discretion than the others.
They committed the mistake of asking aid from the king of
England, " promising him the immediate surrender of all the
cities, castles, and bailiwicks they still possessed in Guienne
and Poitou." Their correspondence fell into the hands of the
Burgundians, and the duke of Burgundy showed the king him
self a letter stating " that the duke of Berry, the duke of Or
leans, and the duke of Bourbon had lately conspired together
at Bourges for the destruction of the king, the kingdom, and
the good city of Paris. " ' ' Ah 1" cried the poor king with tears,
" we quite see their wickedness, and we do conjure you, who
are of our own blood, to aid and advise us against them." The
duke and his partisans, kneeling on one knee, promised the king
all the assistance possible with their persons and their property.
The civil war was passionately carried on. The Burgundians
went and besieged Bourges. The siege continued a long while
without success. Some of the besiegers grew weary of it.
Negotiations were opened with the besieged. An interview
took place before the walls between the duke of Berry and the
duke of Burgundy, "Nephew," said the former, "I have

OH. xxm,] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 207

acted ill, and you still worse. It is for us to try and maintain
the kingdom in peace and prosperity." "I will be no obstacle,
uncle," answered Duke John. Peace was made. It was stipu
lated that the duke of Berry and the Armagnac lords should
give up all alliance with the English and all confederacy
against the duke of Burgundy, who, on his side, should give
up any that he might have formed against them. An engage,
ment was entered into mutually to render aid, service, and
obedience to the king against his foe of England as they were
bound by right and reason to do; and lastly a promise was
made to observe the articles of the peace of Chartres and to
swear them over again. There was a special prohibition
against using for the future the words Armagnacs and Bur-
gundians or any other term reflecting upon either party. The
pacification was solemnly celebrated at Auxerre, on the 22nd
of August, 1412; and on the 29th of September following, the
dauphin once more entered Paris, with the duke of Burgundy
at his side. The king, queen, and duke of Berry arrived a few
days afterwards. The people gave a hearty reception to them,
even to the Armagnacs, well known as such, in their train;
but the butchers and the men of their faction murmured
loudly and treated the peace as treason. Outside, it was little
more than nominal; the count of Armagnac remained under
arms and the duke of Orleans held aloof from Paris. A violent
ferment again began there. The butchers continued to hold
the mastery. The duke of Burgundy, all the while finding
them very much in the way, did not cease to pay court to
them. Many of his knights were highly displeased at seeing
themselves mixed up with such fellows. The honest burgesses
began to be less frightened at the threats and more angry at
the excesses of the butchers. The advocate-general, Juvenal
des Ursins, had several times called without being received at
the Hotel d'Artois, but one night the duke of Burgundy sent
for him and asked him what he thought of the position. "My
lord," said the magistrate, "do not persist in always maintain
ing that you did well to have the duke of Orleans slain ; enough
mischief has come of it to make you agree that you were
wrong. It is not to your honor to let yourself be guided by
flayers of beasts and a lot of lewd fellows. I can guarantee
that a hundred burgesses of Paris, of the highest character,
would undertake to attend you every where and do whatever
you should bid them, and even lend you money if you wanted
it." The duke listened patiently, but answered that he had

208 HISTORY OF FRANCS. [C

done no wrong in the case of the duke of Orleans and would
never confess that he had. " As to the fellows of whom you
speak, " said he, " I know my own business. " Juvenal returned
home without much belief in the duke's firmness. He himself,
full of courage as he was, durst not yet declare himself openly.
The thought of all this occupied his mind incessantly, sleeping
and waking. One night, when he had fallen asleep towards
morning, it seemed to him that a voice kept saying, Surgite
cum sederitis, qui manducatis panem doloris (Rise up from
your sitting, ye who eat the bread of sorrow). When he
awoke, his wife, a good and pious woman, said to him, " My
dear, this morning I heard some one saying to you, or you
pronouncing in a dream, some words that I have often read in
my Hours;" and she repeated them to him. " My dear," an
swered Juvenal, "we have eleven children, and consequently
great cause to pray G-od to grant us peace; let us hope in
Him, and He will help us." He often saw the duke of Berry.
" Well, Juvenal," the old prince would say to him, " shall this
last for ever? Shall we be for ever under the sway of these
lewd fellows?" "My lord," Juvenal would answer, " hope we
in God; yet a little while and we shall see them confounded
and destroyed."

Nor was Juvenal mistaken. The opposition to the yoke of
the Burgundians was daily becoming more and more earnest
and general. The butchers attempted to stem the current;
but the carpenters took sides against them, saying, " We will
see which are the stronger in Paris, the hewers of wood or the
fellers of oxen." The parliament, the exchequer-chamber, and
the H6tel-de-Ville demanded peace; and the shout of Peace!
peace I resounded in the streets. A great crowd of people as
sembled on the Greve; and thither the butchers came with
their company of about twelve hundred persons, it is said.
They began to speak against peace, but could not get a hearing.
"Let those who are for it go to the right," shouted a voicev
41 and those who are against it to the left !" But the adversaries
of peace durst not risk this test. The duke of Burgundy could
not help seeing that he was declining rapidly; he was no
longer summoned to the king's council ; a watch was kept upon
his house; and he determined to go away. On the 23rd of
August, 1413, without a word said, even to his household, he
went away to the wood of Vincennes, prevailing on the king to
go hawking with him. There was a suspicion that the duke
meant to cany off the king. Juvenal des Ursins with a com*

CH. xxm.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 209

pany of armed burgesses hurried off to Vincennes, and going
straight to the king, said, "Sir, come away to Paris; it is too
hot to be out." The king turned to go back to the city. The
duke of Burgundy was angry, saying, that the king was going
a-hawking. "You would take him too far," rejoined Juve
nal; "your people are in travelling-dress and you have your
trumpeters with you." The duke took leave of the king, said
business required his presence in Flanders, and went off as fast
as he could.

When it was known that he had gone, there was a feeling of
regret and disquietude amongst the sensible and sober burgesses
at Paris. What they wanted was peace ; and in order to have
it the adherence of the duke Burgundy was indispensable.
Whilst he was present, there might be hope of winning him or
forcing him over to it ; but, whilst he was absent, headstrong as
he was known to be, a renewal of war was the most probable
contingency. And this result appeared certain when it was seen
how the princes hostile to the duke of Burgundy, above all,
Duke Charles of Orleans, the count of Armagnac and their
partisans, hastened back to Paris and resumed their ascendency
with the king and in his council. The dauphin, Louis, duke of
Aquitaine, united himself by the ties of close friendship wifbh
the duke of Orleans, and prevailed upon him to give up the
mourning he had worn since his father's murder; the two
princes appeared every where dressed alike; the scarf of
Armagnac replaced that of Burgundy ; the feelings of the popu
lace changed as the fashion of the court ; and when children
sang in the streets the song but lately in vogue, "Burgundy's
duke, God give thee joy !" they were struck and hurled to the
ground. Facts were before long in accordance with appear
ances. After a few pretences of arrangement the duke of Bur
gundy took up arms and marched on Paris. Charles VI., on
his side, annulled, in the presence of Parliament, all acts
adverse to the duke of Orleans and his adherents; and the
king, the queen, and the dauphin bound themselves by oath
not to treat with the duke of Burgundy until they had de
stroyed his power. At the end of March, 1414, the king's
army was set in motion ; Compiegne, Soissons, and Bapaume,
which held out for the duke of Burgundy, were successively
taken by assault or surrendered ; the royal troops treated the
people as vanquished rebels ; and the four great communes of
Flanders sent a deputation to the king to make protestations
of their respect and an attempt to arrange matters between

210 HISTORY OF FRANCE. \ca. xxm.

their lord and his suzerain. Animosity was still too lively and
too recent in the king's camp to admit of satisfaction with a
victory as yet incomplete. On the 28th of July began the
siege of Arras; but after five weeks the besiegers had made
no impression; an epidemic came; upon them; the duke of
Bavaria and the constable, Charles d'Albret, were attacked
by it ; weariness set in on both sides ; the duke of Burgundy
himself began to be anxious about his position ; and he sent the
duke of Brabant, his brother, and the countess of Hainault, his
sister, to the king and the dauphin with more submissive words
than he had hitherto deigned to utter. The countess of Hai
nault, pleading the ties of family and royal interests, managed
to give the dauphin a bias towards peace ; and the dauphin
in his turn worked upon the mind of the king, who was becom
ing more and more feeble and accessible to the most opposite
impressions. It was in vain that the most intimate friends of
the duke of Orleans tried to keep the king steadfast in his
wrath from night to morning. One day when he was still in
bed one of them softly approaching and putting his hand
under the coverlet, said, plucking him by the foot, "My lord,
are you asleep?" " No, cousin," answered the king; " you are
quite welcome; is there any thing new?" " No, sir; only that
your people report that if you would assault Arras there would
be good hope of effecting an entry." "But if my cousin of
Burgundy listens to reason and puts the town into my hands
without assault, we will make peace." "What! sir; you
would make peace with this wicked, this disloyal man who so
cruelly had your brother slain?" " But all was forgiven him
with the consent of my nephew of Orleans," said the king
mournfully. "Alas! sir, you will never see that brother
again." "Let me be, cousin," said the king impatiently, "I
shall see him again on the day of judgment."

Notwithstanding this stubborn way of working up the irre
concilable enmities which caused divisions in the royal family,
peace was decided upon and concluded at Arras, on the 4th of
September, 1414, on conditions as vague as ever, which really
put no end to the causes of civil war, but permitted the king
on the one hand and the duke of Burgundy on the other to call
themselves and to wear an appearance of being reconciled. A
serious event which happened abroad at that time was heavily
felt in France, reawakened the spirit of nationality, and opened
the eyes of all parties a little to the necessity of suspending
their own selfish disagreements. Henry IV., king of England,

CH. xxm.] THE HUNDRED YEARS? WAR. 211

died on the 20th of March, 1413. Having been chiefly occupied
with the difficulties of his own government at home, he, with
out renouncing the war with France, had not prosecuted it
vigorously, and had kept it in suspense or adjournment by a
repetition of truces. Henry V., his son and successor, a young
prince of five and twenty, active, ambitious, able, and popular,
gave, from the very moment of his accession, signs of having
bolder views, which were not long coming to maturity, in re
spect of his relations with France. The duke of Burgundy had
undoubtedly anticipated them, for, as soon as he was cognizant
of Henry IV. 's death, he made overtures in London for the
marriage of his daughter Catherine with the new king of Eng
land, and he received at Bruges an English embassy on the
subject. When this was known at Paris, the council of
Charles VI. sent to the duke of Burgundy sire de Dampierre
and the bishop of Evreux bearing letters to him from the king
" which forbade him, on pain of forfeiture and treason, to enter
into any treaty with the king of England either for his daugh
ter's marriage or for any other cause." But the views of
Henry V. soared higher than a marriage with a daughter of
the duke of Burgundy. It was to the hand of the king of
France's daughter, herself also named Catherine, that he made
pretension, flattering himself that he would find in this union
aid in support of his pretences to the crown of France. These
pretences he put forward, hardly a year after his accession to
the throne, basing them, as Edward III. had done, on the al
leged right of Isabel of France, wife of Edward II., to succeed
King John. No reply was vouchsafed from Paris to this de
mand. Only the Princess Catherine, who was but thirteen,
was presented to the envoys of the king of England, and she
struck them as being tall and beautiful. A month later, in
August, 1414, Henry V. gave Charles VI. to understand that
he would be content with a strict execution of the treaty of
Bretigny, with the addition of Normandy, Anjou, and Maine,
and the hand of the Princess Catherine with a dowry of two
millions crowns. The war between Charles VI. and John the
Fearless caused 4* suspension of all negotiations on this subject;
but, after the peace of Arras, in January, 1415, a new and
solemn embassy from England arrived at Paris, and the late
proposals were again brought forward. The ambassadors had
a magnificent reception ; splendid presents and entertainments
were given them ; but no answer was made to their demands/
they were only told that the king of France was about to send

212 HISTORY OF FRANCS. [CH.

an embassy to the king of England. It did not set out before
the 27th of the following April; the archbishop of Bourges, the
most elegant prelate in the council, was its spokesman; and it
had orders to offer the king of England the hand of the Prin
cess Catherine with a dowry of eight hundred and forty thou
sand golden crowns, besides fifteen towns in Aquitaine and the
seneschalty of Limoges. Henry V. rejected these offers, de
claring that, if he did not get Normandy and all the districts
ceded by the treaty of Bretigny, he would have recourse to
war to recover a crown which belonged to him. To this arro
gant language the archbishop of Bourges replied, "O king,
what canst thou be thinking of that thou wouldst fain thus oust
the king of the French, our lord, the most noble and excellent
of Christian kings, from the throne of so powerful a kingdom?
Thinkest thou that it is for fear of thee and of the English that
he hath made thee an offer of his daughter together with so
great a sum and a portion of his land? Nay, verily; he was
moved by pity and the love of peace ; he would not that the in
nocent blood should be spilt and Christian people destroyed in
the hurly-burly of battle. He will invoke the aid of God Al
mighty, of the blessed virgin Mary, and of all the saints. Then
by his own arms and those of his loyal subjects, vassals, and
allies, thou wilt be driven from his kingdom, and, peradven-
ture, meet with death or capture."

On returning to Paris the ambassadors, in presence of the
king's council and a numerous assembly of clergy, nobility,
and people, gave an account of their embassy and advised in
stant preparation for war without listening to a single word of
peace. "They loudly declared," says the monk of St. Denis,
"that King Henry's letters, though they were apparently full
of moderation, had lurking at the bottom of them a great deal
of perfidy, and that this king, all the time that he was offering
peace and union in the most honeyed terms, was thinking only
how he might destroy the kingdom, and was levying troops in
all quarters." Henry V., indeed, in November, 1414, demanded
of his parliament a large subsidy, which was at once voted
without any precise mention of the use to be made of it, and
merely in the terms following: " For the defence of the realm
of England and the security of the seas." At the commence
ment of the following year Henry resumed negotiations with
France, renouncing his claims to Normandy, Anjou, and Maine;
but Charles VI. and his council adhered to their former offers.
On the 16th of April, 1415, Henry announced to a grand

CH. xxm.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 213

council of spiritual and temporal peers, assembled at West
minster, his determination " of setting out in person to go and,
by God's grace, recover his heritage." He appointed one of his
brothers, the duke of Bedford, to be regent in his absence, and
the peers, ecclesiastical and laical, applauded his design, prom
ising him their sincere co-operation. Thus France, under a
poor mad king and amidst civil dissensions of the most ob
stinate character, found the question renewed for her of French
versus English kingship and national independence versus for
eign conquest.

On the 14th of August, 1415, an English fleet, having on
board, together with King Henry V., six thousand men-at-arms,
twenty-four thousand archers, powerful war-machines, and a
multitude of artisans and "small folk," came to land near
Harfleur, not far from the mouth of the Seine. It was the
most formidable expedition that had ever issued from the
ports of England. The English spent several days in effecting
their landing and setting up their siege tram around the walls
of the city. " It would have been easy," says the.monk of St.
Denis, " to hinder their operations, and the inhabitants of the
town and neighborhood would have worked thereat with zeal,
if they had not counted that the nobility of the district and the
royal army commanded by the constable, Charles d'Albret,
would come to their aid." No one came. The burgesses and
the small garrison of Harfleur made a gallant defence ; but, on
the 22nd of September, not receiving from Vernon, where the
king and the dauphin were massing their troops, any other
assistance than the advice to "take courage and trust to the
king's discretion," they capitulated ; and Henry V., after taking
possession of the place, advanced into the country with an
army already much reduced by sickness, looking for a favor
able point at which to cross the SoTcme and push his invasion
still farther. It was not until the 19th of October that he suc
ceeded, at Bethencourt, near St. Quentin. Charles VI., who
at that time had a lucid interval, after holding at Rouen a
council of war, at which it was resolved to give the English
battle, wished to repair with the dauphin his son to Bapaume
where the French army had taken position ; but his uncle, the
duke of Berry, having still quite a lively recollection of the
battle of Poitiers, fought fifty-nine years before, made opposi
tion, saying, "Better lose the battle than the king and the
battle." All the princes of the royal blood and all the flower
of the French nobility, except the king and his three sons, and

214 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxm.

the dukes of Berry, Brittany, amd Burgundy, joined the army.
The dukes of Orleans and Bourbon, and the constable d'Albret,
who was in command, sent to ask the king of England on what
day and at what place he would be pleased to give them battle.
" I do not shut myself up in walled towns," replied Henry; " I
shall be found at any time and any where ready to fight if any
attempt be made to cut off my march." The French resolved
to stop him between Agincourt and Framecourt, a little north
of St. Paul and Hesdin. The encounter took place on the 25th
of October, 1415. It was a monotonous and lamentable repeti
tion of the disasters of Crecy and Poitiers ; disasters almost
inevitable, owing to the incapacity of the leaders and ever the
same defects on the part of the French nobility, defects which
rendered their valorous and generous qualities not only fruit
less but fatal. Never had that nobility been more numerous
and more brilliant than in this premeditated struggle. On the
eve of the battle marshal de Boucicaut had armed five hundred
new knights; the greater part passed the night on horseback,
under arms, on ground soaked with rain ; and men and horses
were already distressed in the morning, when the battle began.
It were tedious to describe the faulty manoeuvres of the French
army and their deplorable consequences on that day. Never
was battle more stubborn or defeat more complete and bloody.
Eight thousand men of family, amongst whom were a hundred
and twenty lords bearing their own banners, were left on the
field of battle. The duke of Brabant, the count of Nevers, the
duke of Bar, the duke of Alengon, and the constable D'Albret
were killed. The duke of Orleans was dragged out wounded
from under the dead. When Henry V., after having spent
several hours on the field of battle, retired to his quarters, he
was told that the duke of Orleans would neither eat nor drink.
He went to see him. " What fare, cousin?" said he. "Good,
my lord." " Why will you not eat or drink?" "I wish to
fast." " Cousin," said the king gently, " make good cheer: if
God has granted me grace to gain the victory, I know it is not
owing to my deserts ; I believe that God wished to punish the
French ; and, if all I have heard is true, it is no wonder, for
they say that never were seen disorder, licentiousness, sins,
and vices like what is going on in France just now. Surely
God did well to be angry." It appears that the king of Eng
land's feeling was that also of many amongst the people of
France. * * On reflecting upon this cruel mishap, " says the monk
of St. Denis, "all the inhabitants of the kingdom, men and

OB. xxin.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 215

women, said, 4 In what evil days are we come into this world
that we should be witnesses of such confusion and shame 1 ' n
During the battle the eldest son of Duke John the Fearless,
the young count of Charolais (at that time nineteen), who was
afterwards Philip the Good, duke of Burgundy, was at the
castle of Aire, where his governors kept him by his father's
orders and prevented him from joining the king's army.
His servants were leaving him one after another to go and
defend the kingdom against the English. When he heard of
the disaster at Agincourt he was seized with profound despair
at having failed in that patriotic duty ; he would fain have
starved himself to death, and he spent three whole days in
tears, none being able to comfort him. When, four years
afterwards, he became duke of Burgundy, and during his
whole life, he continued to testify his keen regret at not
having fought in that cruel battle, though it should have cost
him his life, and he often talked with his servants about that
event of grievous memory. When his father, Duke John,
received the news of the disaster at Agincourt, he also exhibited
great sorrow and irritation ; he had lost by it his two brothers,
the duke of Brabant and the count of Nevers -r and he sent
forthwith a herald to the king of England, who was still at
Calais, with orders to say that in consequence of the death of
his brother, the duke of Brabant, who was no vassal of France,
and held nothing in fief there, he, the duke of Burgundy, did
defy him mortally (fire and sword) and sent him his gauntlet.
"I will not accept the gauntlet of so noble and puissant a
prince as the duke of Burgundy," was Henry V.'s soft answer;
"I am of no account compared with him. If I have had the
victory over the nobles of France, it is by God's grace. The
death of the duke of Brabant hath been an affliction to me ;
but I do assure thee that neither I nor my people did cause his
death. Take back to thy master his gauntlet ; if he will be at
Boulogne on the 15th of January next, I will prove to him by
the testimony of my prisoners and two of my friends, that it
was the French who accomplished his brothers' destruction."

The duke of Burgundy, as a matter of course, let his quarrel
with the king of England drop ; and occupied himself for the
future only in recovering his power in France. He set out on
the march for Paris, proclaiming every where that he was as
sembling his army solely for the purpose of avenging the king
dom, chastising the English, and aiding the king with his
counsels and his forces. The sentiment of nationality was so

10 VOL. 2

216 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xim.

strongly aroused that politicians most anxious about their own
personal interests, and about them alone, found themselves
obliged to pay homage to it.

Unfortunately it was, so far as Duke John was concerned,
only a superficial and transitory homage. There is no repen
tance so rarely seen as that of selfishness in pride and power.
The four years which elapsed between the battle of Agincourt
and the death of John the Fearless were filled with nothing but
fresh and still more tragic explosions of hatred and strife
between the two factions of the Burgundians and Armagnacs,
taking and losing, re-taking and re-losing, alternately, their
ascendency with the king and in the government of France.
When, after the battle of Agincourt, the duke of Burgundy
marched towards Paris, he heard almost simultaneously that
the king was issuing a prohibition against the entry of his
troops, and that his rival, the count of Armagnac, had just ar
rived and been put in possession of the military power, as
constable, and of the civil power, as superintendent-general
of finance. The duke then returned to Burgundy, and lost no
time in recommencing hostilities against the king's govern
ment. At one time he let his troops make war on the king's
and pillaged the domains of the crown ; at another he entered
into negotiations with the king of England and showed a dis
position to admit his claims to such and such a province, and
even perhaps to the throne of France. He did not accede to
the positive alliance offered him by Henry ; but he employed
the fear entertained of it by the king's government as a
weapon against his enemies. The count of Armagnac, on his
side, made the most relentless use of power against the duke
of Burgundy and his partisans ; he pursued them everywhere,
especially in Paris, with dexterous and pitiless hatred. He
abolished the whole organization and the privileges of the
Parisian butcherdom which had shown so favorable a leaning
towards Duke John; and the system he established as a
substitute was founded on excellent grounds appertaining to
the interests of the people and of good order in the heart of
Paris, but the violence of absolute power and of hatred robs
the best measures of the credit they would deserve if they
were more disinterested and dispassionate. A lively reaction
set in at Paris in favor of the persecuted Burgundians ; even
outside of Paris several towns of importance, Rheims, Chalons,
Troyes, Auxerre, Amiens, and Rouen itself, showed a favor
able disposition towards the duke of Burgundy, and made a

CH. xxiil.] THE HUNDRED YEARS? WAR. 217

sort of alliance with him, promising to aid him "in reinstating
the king in his freedom and lordship and the realm in its
freedom and just rights." The count of Armagnac was no
more tender with the court than with the populace of Paris.
He suspected, not without reason, that the queen, Isabel of
Bavaria, was in secret communication with and gave informa
tion to Duke John. Moreover, she was leading a scandalously
licentious life at Vincennes ; and one of her favorites, Louis de
Bosredon, a nobleman of Auvergne and her steward, meeting
the king one day on the road, greeted the king cavalierly and
hastily went his way. Charles VI. was plainly offended. The
count of Armagnac seized the opportunity ; and not only did
he foment the king's ill-humor, but talked to him of all the
irregularities of which the queen was the center and in which
Louis de Bosredon was, he said, at that time her principal
accomplice. Charles, in spite of the cloud upon his mind,
could hardly have been completely ignorant of such facts; but
it is not necessary to be a king to experience extreme dis
pleasure on learning that offensive scandals are almost public
and on hearing the whole tale of them. The king, carried
away by his anger, went straight to Vincennes, had a violent
scene with his wife, and caused Bosredon to be arrested, im
prisoned, and put to the question ; and he, on his own confes
sion it is said, was thrown into the Seine, sewn up in a leath
ern sack, on which were inscribed the words, "Let the king's
justice run its course ! " Charles VI. and Armagnac did not
stop there. Queen Isabel was first of all removed from the
council and stripped of all authority, and then banished to
Tours, where commissioners were appointed to watch over her
conduct, and not to let her even write a letter without their
seeing it. But royal personages can easily elude such strict
ness. A few months after her banishment, whilst the despot
ism of Armagnac and the war between the king and the duke
of Burgundy were still going on, Queen Isabel managed to send
to the duke, through one of her servants, her golden seal,
which John the Fearless well knew, with a message to the
effect that she would go with him if he would come to fetch
her. On the night of November 1st, 1417, the duke of Bur
gundy hurriedly raised the siege of Corbeil, advanced with a
body of troops to a position within two leagues from Tours,
and sent the queen notice that he was awaiting her. Isabel
ordered her three custodians to go with her to mass at the
convent Mannoutier, outside the city. Scarcely was she

218 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxin.

within the church when a Burgundian captain, Hector de
Saveuse, presented himself with sixty men at the door. * ' Look
to your safety madame," said her custodians to Isabel, "here
is a large company of Burgundians or English." "Keep close
to me," replied the queen. Hector de Saveuse at that moment
entered and saluted the queen on behalf of the duke of Bur
gundy. "Where is he?" asked the queen. "He will not be
long coming." Isabel ordered the captain to arrest her three
custodians ; and two hours afterwards Duke John arrived with
his men-at-arms. "My dearest cousin," said the queen to
him, " I ought to love you above every man in the realm; you
have left all at my bidding and are come to deliver me from
prison. Be assured that I will never fail you. I quite see that
you have always been devoted to my lord, his family, the
realm, and the common-weal." The duke carried the queen
off to Chartres ; and as soon as she was settled .there, on the
12th of November, 1417, she wrote to the good towns of the
kingdom :

"We, Isabel, by the grace of God, queen of France, having,
by reason of my lord the king's seclusion, the government and
administration of this realm, by irrevocable grant made to us
by the said my lord the king and his council, are come to
Chartres in company with our cousin, the duke of Burgundy,
hi order to advise and ordain whatsoever is necessary to pre
serve and recover the supremacy of my lord the king, on
advice taken of the prud'hommes, vassals, and subjects."

She at the same time ordered that master Philip de Morvil-
liers, heretofore councillor of the duke of Burgundy, should
go to Amiens, acompanied by several clerics of note and by a
registrar, and that there should be held there, by the queen's
authority, for the bailiwicks of Amiens, Vermandois, Tournai,
and the countship of Ponthieu, a sovereign court of justice, in
the place of that which there was at Paris. Thus, and by such
a series of acts of violence and of falsehoods, the duke of
Burgundy, all the while making war on the king, surrounded
himself with hollow forms of royal and legal government.

Whilst civil war was thus penetrating to the very core of
the kingship, foreign war was making its way again into the
kingdom. Henry V., after the battle of Agincourt, had
returned to London, and had left his army to repose and
reorganize after its sufferings and its losses. It was not until
eighteen months afterwards, on the 1st of August, 1417, that
he landed at Touques, not far from Honfleur, with fresh

OH. xxiii.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 219

troops, »nd resumed his campaign in France. Between 1417
and 1419 he successively laid siege to nearly all the towns of
importance in Normandy, to Caen, Bayeux, Falaise, Evreux,
Coutances, Laigle, St. L6, Cherbourg, etc., etc. Some he
occupied after a short resistance, others were sold to him by
their governors; but, when, in the month of July, 1418, he
undertook the siege of Rouen, he encountered there a long and
serious struggle. Rouen had at that time, it is said, a popu
lation of 150,000 souls, which was animated by ardent patriot
ism. The Rouennese, on the approach of the English, had
repaired their gates, their ramparts, and their moats; had
demanded reinforcements from the king of France and the
duke of Burgundy; and had ordered every person incapable
of bearing arms or procuring provisions for ten months, to
leave the city. Twelve thousand old men, women, and chil
dren were thus expelled and died either round the place or
whilst roving in misery over the neighboring country; " poor
women gave birth unassisted beneath the walls, and good
compassionate people in the town drew up the new-born in
baskets to have them baptized and afterwards lowered them
down to their mothers to die together." Fifteen thousand
men of city militia, four thousand regular soldiers, three
hundred spearmen and as many archers from Paris, and it is
not quite known how many men-at-arms sent by the duke of
Burgundy, defended Rouen for more than five months amidst
all the usual sufferings of srictly besieged cities. " As early
as the beginning of October," says Monstrelet, "they were
forced to eat horses, dogs, cats, and other things not fit for
human beings;" but they nevertheless made frequent sorties,
"rushing furiously upon the enemy, to whom they caused
many a heavy loss." Four gentlemen and four burgesses
succeded in escaping and going to Beauvais, to tell the king
and his council about the deplorable condition of their city.
The council replied that the king was not in a condition to
raise the siege, but that Rouen would be relieved " within" on
the fourth day after Christmas. It was now the middle of
December. The Rouennese resigned themselves to waiting a
fortnight longer ; but, when that period was over, they found
nothing arrive but a message from the Duke of Burgundy
recommending them, " to treat for their preservation with the
king of England as best they could." They asked to capitu
late. Henry V. demanded that "all the men of the town
should place themselves at his disposal." "When the com-

220 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH. xxm

monal jy of Rouen heard this answer, they all cried out that it
were better to die all together sword in hand against their
enemies than place themselves at the disposal of yonder king,
and they were for shoring up with planks a loosened layer of
the wall inside the city, and, having armed themselves and
joined all of them together, men, women, and children, for
setting fire to the city, throwing down the said layer of wall
into the moats and getting them gone by night whither it might
please God to direct them." Henry V. was unwilling to con
front such heroic despair; and on the 13th of January, 1419,
he granted the Rouennese a capitulation, from which seven
persons only were excepted, Robert Delivet, the archbishop's
vicar-general, who from the top of the ramparts had excom
municated the foreign conqueror; d'Houdetot, baillie of the
city; John Segneult, the mayor; Alan Blanchard, the captain
of the militia-cross-bowmen, and three other burgesses. The
last-named, the hero of the siege, was the only one who paid
for his heroism with his life ; the baillie, the mayor, and the
vicar bought themselves off. On the 19th of January, at mid
day, the English, king and army, made their solemn entry
into the city. It was two hundred and fifteen years since
Philip Augustus had won Rouen by conquest from John
Lackland, king of England ; and happily his successors were
not to be condemned to deplore the loss of it very long.

These successes of the king of England were so many re
verses and perils for the count of Armagnac. He had in his
hands !*aris, the king, and the dauphin ; in the people's eyes
the responsibility of government and of events rested on his
shoulders ; and at one time he was doing nothing, at another
he was unsuccessful in what he did. Whilst Henry V. was
becoming master of nearly all the towns of Normandy, the
constable, with the king in his army, was besieging Senlis;
and he was obliged to raise the siege. The legates of Pope Mar
tin V. had set about establishing peace between the Burgun-
dians and Armagnacs as well as between France and England;
they had prepared on the basis of the treaty of Arras a new
treaty with which a great part of the country and even of the
burgesses of Paris showed themselves well pleased ; but the
constable had it rejected on the ground of its being adverse to
the interests of the king and of France ; and his friend, the
chancellor, Henry de Marie, declared that, if the king were
disposed to sign it, he would have to seal it himself, for that
as for him, the chancellor, he certainly would not seal it.

CH. xxni.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 221

Bernard of Armagnac and his confidential friend, Tanneguy
Duchatel, a Breton nobleman, provost of Paris, were hard and
haughty. When a complaint was made to them of any vio
lent procedure, they would answer, "What business had you
there? If it were the Burgundians, you would make no com
plaint." The Parisian population was becoming every day
more Burgundian. In the latter days of May, 1418, a plot
was contrived for opening to the Burgundians one of the
gates of Paris. Perrinet Leclerc, son of a rich iron-merchant
having influence in the quarter of St. Germain des Pres, stole
the keys from under the bolster of his father's bed ; a troop of
Burgundian men-at-arms came in, and they were immediately
joined by a troop of Parisians. They spread over the city,
shouting "Our Lady of peace! Hurrah for the king! Hur
rah for Burgundy! Let all who wish for peace take arms
and follow us!" The people swarmed from the houses and
followed them accordingly. The Armagnacs were surprised
and seized with alarm. Tanneguy Duchatel, a man of prompt
and resolute spirit, ran to the dauphin's, wrap'ped him in his
bed-clothes, and carried him off to the Bastille, where he shut
him up with several of his partisans. The count of Armag
nac, towards whose house the multitude thronged, left by a
back-door and took refuge at a mason's where he believed
himself secure. In a few hours the Burgundians were
masters of Paris. Their chief, the lord of Isle-Adam, had the
doors of the hostel of St. Paul broken in, and presented him
self before the king. "How fares my cousin of Burgundy?"
said Charles VI., " I have not seen him for some time." That
was all he said. He was set on horseback and marched
through the streets. He showed no astonishment at any
thing ; he had all but lost memory as well as reason, and no
longer knew the difference between Armagnac and Burgun
dian. A devoted Burgundian. sire Guy de Bar, was named
provost of Paris in the place of Tanneguy Duchatel. The
mason with whom Bernard of Armagnac had taken refuge
went and told the new provost that the constable was con
cealed at his house. Thither the provost hurried, made the
constable mount behind him, and carried him off to prison at
the Chatelet, at the same time making honorable exertions to
prevent massacre and plunder.

But factions do not so soon give up either their vengeance
or their hopes. On the llth of June, 1418, hardly twelve days
after Paris had fallen into the hands of the Burgundians, a

222 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxin,

body of sixteen hundred men issued from the Bastille and
rushed into the street St. Antoine, shouting, " Hurrah for the
king, the dauphin, and the count of Armagnac !" They were
Tanneguy Duchatel and some of the chiefs of the Armagnacs
who were attempting to regain Paris, where they had ob
served that the Burgundians were not numerous. Their
attempt had no success and merely gave the Burgundians the
opportunity and the signal for a massacre of their enemies.
The little band of Tanneguy Duchatel was instantly repulsed,
hemmed in, and forced to re-enter the Bastille with a loss of
four hundred men. Tanneguy saw that he could make no
defence there; so he hastily made his way out, taking the
dauphin with him to Melun. The massacre of the Armagnacs
had already commenced on the previous evening: they were
harried in the hostelries and houses ; they were cut down with
axes hi the streets. On the night between the 12th and 13th
of June a rumor spread about that there were bands of
Armagnacs coming to deliver their friends in prison. " They
are at the St. Germain gate," said some. "No, it is the St.
Marceau gate," said others. The mob assembled and made a
furious rush upon the prison-gates. " The city and burgesses
will have no peace," was the general saying, "so long as
there is one Armagnac left ! Hurrah for peace ! Hurrah for
the duke of Burgundy!" The provost of Paris, the lord of
Isle- Adam, and the principal Burgundian chieftains, gallopped
up with a thousand horse, and strove to pacify these madmen,
numbering, it is said, some forty thousand. They were re
ceived with a shout of "A plague of your justice and pity I
Accursed be he whosoever shall have pity on these traitors of
Armagnacs ! They are English ; they are hounds. They had
already made banners for the king of England, and would
fain have planted them upon the gates of the city. They
made us work for nothing, and when we asked for our due
they said, ' You rascals, haven't ye a sou to buy a cord and go
hang yourselves? In the devil's name speak no more of it;
it will be no use whatever you say.' " The provost of Paris
durst not oppose such fury as this. " Do what you please,"
said he. The mob ran to look for the constable Armagnac
and the chancellor de Marie in the Palace-tower, in which
they had been shut up, and they were at once torn to pieces
amidst ferocious rejoicings. All the prisons were ransacked
and emptied; the prisoners who attempted resistance were
smoked out; they were hurled down from the windows upon

CH. xxm.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 223

pikes held up to catch them. The massacre lasted from four
o'clock in the morning to eleven. The common report was
that fifteen hundred persons had perished in it ; the account
rendered to parliament made the number eight hundred. The
servants of the duke of Burgundy mentioned to him no more
than four hundred.

It was not before the 14th of July that he with Queen Isa
bel came back to the city ; and he came with a sincere design,
if not of punishing the cut-throats, at least of putting a stop
to all massacre and pillage ; but there is nothing more difficult
than to suppress the consequences of a mischief of which you
dare not attack the cause. One Bertrand, head of one of the
companies of butchers, had been elected captain of St. Denis
because he had saved the abbey from the rapicity of a noble
Burgundian chieftian, Hector de Saveuse. The lord, to
avenge himself, had the butcher assassinated. The burgesses
went to the duke to demand that the assassin should be pun
ished; and the duke, durst neither assent nor refuse, could
only partially cloak his weakness by imputing the crime to
some disorderly youngsters whom he enabled to get away.
On the 20th of August an angry mob collected in front of the
Chatelet, shouting out that nobody would bring the Armag-
nacs to justice, and that they were every day being set at
liberty on payment of money. The great and little Chatelet
were stormed, and the prisoners massacred. The mob would
have liked to serve the Bastille the same ; but the duke told
the rioters that he would give the prisoners up to them if they
would engage to conduct them to the Chatelet without doing
them any harm, and, to win them over, he grasped the hand
of their head man who was no other than Capeluche, the city-
executioner. Scarcely had they arrived at the courtyard of
the little Chatelet when the prisoners were massacred there
without any regard for the promise made to the duke. He
sent for the most distinguished burgesses, and consulted them
as to what could be done to check such excesses; but they
confined themselves to joining him in deploring them. He
sent for the savages once more, and said to them, "You
would do far better to go and lay siege to Montlhery, to drive
off the king's enemies who have come ravaging every thing up
to the St. Jacques gate and preventing the harvest from being
got in." "Readily," they answered; "only give us leaders."
He gave them leaders, who led six thousand of them to
Montlhe"ry. As soon as they ivere gone, Duke John had

224 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH. xxin

Capeluche and two of his chief accomplices brought to trial,
and Capeluche was beheaded in the market-place by his own
apprentice. But the gentry sent to the siege of Montlhery did
not take the place; they accused their leaders of having
betrayed them, and returned to be a scourge to the neighbor
hood of Paris, every where saying that the duke of Burgundy
was the most irresolute man in the kingdom, and that if there
were no nobles the war would be ended in a couple of months.
Duke John set about negotiating with the dauphin and getting
him back to Paris. The dauphin replied that he was quite
ready to obey and serve his mother as a good son should, but
that it would be more than he could stomach to go back to a
city where so many crimes and so much tyranny had but
lately been practised. Terms of reconciliation were drawn up
and signed on the 16th of September, 1418, at St. Maur, by the
queen, the duke of Burgundy, and the pope's legates ; but the
dauphin refused to ratify them. The unpunished and long
continued massacres in Paris had redoubled his distrust to
wards the duke of Burgundy ; he had, moreover, just assumed
the title of regent of the kingdom ; and he had established at
Poitiers a Parliament, of which Juvenal des Ursins was a
member. He had promised the young count of Armagnac to
exact Justice for his father's cruel death ; and the old friends
of the House of Orleans remained faithful to their enmities.
The duke of Burgundy had at one time to fight, and at
another to negotiate with the dauphin and the king of
England, both at once and always without success. The
dauphin and his council, though showing a little more dis
cretion, were goin£ on in the same alternative and unsatisfac
tory condition. Clearly neither France and England nor the
factions in France had yet exhausted their passions or their
powers ; and the day of summary vengeance was nearer than
that of real reconciliation.

Nevertheless, complicated, disturbed and persistently re-
sultless situations always end by becoming irksome to those
who are entangled in them and by inspiring a desire for extri
cation. The king of England, in spite of his successes and his
pride, determined upon sending the earl of Warwick to Pro-
vins, where the king and the duke of Burgundy still were: a
truce was concluded between the English and the Burgun-
dians, and it was arranged that on the 30th of May, 1419, the
two kings should meet between Mantes and Melun and hold a
conference for the purpose of trying to arrive at a peace. A

CH. XXIIL] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 225

few days before the time, Duke John set out from Proving
with the king, Queen Isabel, and Princess Catherine, and re
paired first of all to Pontoise, and then to the place fixed for
the interview, on the borders of the Seine, near Meulan, where
two pavilions had been prepared, one for the king of France
and the other for the king of England. Charles VI., being ill,
remained at Pontoise. Queen Isabel, Princess Catherine, and
the duke of Burgundy arrived at the appointed spot. Henry
V. was already there; he went to meet the queen, saluted her,
took her hand, and embraced her and Madame Catherine as
well ; Duke John slightly bent his knee to the king, who raised
him up and embraced him likewise. This solemn interview
was succeeded by several others to which Princess Catherine
did not come. The queen requested the king of England to
state exactly what he proposed ; and he demanded the execu
tion of the treaty of Bretigny, the cession of Normandy, and
the absolute sovereignty, without any bond of vassalage, of
whatever should be ceded by the treaty. A short discussion
ensued upon some secondary questions. There appeared to be
no distant probability of an understanding. The English be
lieved that they saw an inclination on the duke of Burgundy's
part not to hasten to a conclusion and to obtain better condi
tions from king Henry by making him apprehensive of a rec
onciliation with the dauphin. Henry proposed to him, for the
purpose of ending every thing, a conference between them
selves alone ; and it took place on the 3rd of June. "Cousin,"
said the king to the duke, " we wish you to know that we will
have your king's daughter and all that we have demanded
with her ; else we will thrust him out of his kingdom, and you
too." "Sir," answered the duke, "you speak according to
your pleasure ; but before thrusting my lord and myself from
the kingdom you will have what will tire you, we make no
doubt, and you will have enough to do to keep yourself in
your own island." Between two princes so proud there was
little probability of an understanding; and they parted with
no other result than mutual displeasure.

Some days before, on the 14th of May, 1419, a truce of three
months had been concluded between the dauphin and the
duke of Burgundy, and was to lead to a conference also be
tween these two princes. It did not commence before the 8th
of July. During this interval Duke John had submitted for
the mature deliberation of his council the question whether it
were better to grant the English demands or become recon-

226 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxm.

died to the dauphin. Amongst his official councillors opinions
were divided; but, in his privacy, the lady of Giac, "whom
he loved and trusted mightily," and Philip Jossequin, who
had at first been his chamber-attendant and afterwards cus
todian of his jewels and of his privy seal, strongly urged
him to make peace with the dauphin ; and the pope's fresh
legate, the bishop of Leon, added his exhortations to these
home influences. There had been fitted up, at a league's dis
tance from Melun, on the embankment of the ponds of Vert,
a summer-house of branches and leaves, hung with drapery
and silken stuffs; and there the first interview between the
two princes took place. The dauphin left in displeasure; he
had found the duke of Burgundy haughty and headstrong.
Already the old servants of the late duke of Orleans, impelled
by their thirst for vengeance, were saying out loud that the
matter should be decided by arms, when the lady of Giac went
after the dauphin, who from infancy had also been very much
attached to her, and she, going backwards and forwards be
tween the two princes, was so affectionate and persuasive
with both that she prevailed upon them to meet again and to
sincerely wish for an understanding. The next day but one
they returned to the place of meeting, attended, each of them,
by a large body of men-at-arms. They advanced towards one
another with ten men only and dismounted. The duke of
Burgundy went on bended knee. The dauphin took him by
the hand, embraced him, and would have raised him up.
" No, my lord," said the duke; " I know how I ought to ad
dress you." The dauphin assured him that he forgave every
offence, if indeed he had received any, and added, "Cousin,
if in the proposed treaty between us there be aught which is
not to your liking, we desire that you amend it, and hence
forth we will desire all you shall desire; make no doubt of it."
They conversed for some time with every appearance of cor
diality; and then the treaty was signed. It was really a
treaty of reconciliation, in which, without dwelling upon " the
suspicions and imaginings which have been engendered in the
hearts of ourselves and many of our officers, and have hin
dered us from acting with concord in the great matters of my
lord the king and his kingdom, and resisting the damnable
attempts of his and our old enemies," the two princes made
mutual promises, each in language suitable to their rank and
connection, " to love one another, support one another, and
serve one another mutually, as good and loyal relatives, and

OB. xxm-1 THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. $27

bade all their servents, if they saw any hindrance thereto, to
give them notice thereof according to their bounden duty."
The treaty was signed by all the men of note belonging to the
houses of both princes; and the crowd which surrounded
them shouted "Noell" and invoked curses on whosoever
should be minded henceforth to take up arms again in this
damnable quarrel. When the dauphin went away, the duke
insisted upon holding his stirrup, and they parted with every
demonstration of amity. The dauphin returned to Touraine
and the duke to Pontoise to be near the king, who by letters
of July 19th, confirmed the treaty, enjoined general forgetful-
ness of the past, and ordained that "all war should cease,
save against the English."

There was universal and sincere joy. The peace fulfilled
the requirements at the same time of the public welfare and of
national feeling; it was the only means of re-establishing
order at home and driving from the kingdom the foreigner
who aspired to conquer it. Only the friends of the duke of
Orleans and of the count of Armagnac, one assassinated twelve
years before and the other massacred but lately, remained sad
and angry at not having yet been able to obtain either justice
or vengeance ; but they maintained reserve and silence. They
were not long in once more finding for mistrust and murmur
ing grounds or pretexts which a portion of the public showed
a disposition to take up. The duke of Burgundy had made
haste to publish his ratification of the treaty of reconciliation;
the dauphin had let his wait. The Parisians were astounded
not to see either the dauphin or the duke of Burgundy coming
back within their walls and at being as it were forgotten and
deserted amidst the universal making-up. They complained
that no armed force was being collected to oppose the English
and that there was an appearance of flying before them, leav
ing open to them Paris, in which at this time there was no
captain of renown. They were still more troubled when OD
the 29th of July they saw the arrival at the St. Denis gate of a
multitude of disconsolate fugitives, some wounded and othert
dropping from hunger, thirst, and fatigue. When they were
asked who they were and what was the reason of their despe
rate condition, " We are from Pontoise, n they said; " the Eng
lish took the town this morning; they killed OP wounded aft
before them; happy he whosoever could escape from their
hands ; never were Saracens so cruel to Christians as yonder
folk are." It was a real fact. The king of England, disquieted

228 HISTORY OF FRANCS. [OH.

at the reconciliation between the duke of Burgundy and the
dauphin and at the ill success of his own proposals at the con
ference of the 30th of May preceding, had vigorously resumed
the war, in order to give both the reunited French factions a
taste of his resolution and power. He had suddenly attacked
and carried Pontoise, where the command was in the hands of
the lord of Isle-Adam, one of the most valiant Burgundiari
officers. Isle-Adam surprised and lacking sufficient force,
'had made a feeble resistance. There was no sign of an active
union on the part of the two French factions for the purpose of
giving the English battle. Duke John, who had fallen back
upon Troyes, sent order upon order for his vassals from Bur
gundy, but they did not come up. Public alarm and distrust
were day by day becoming stronger. Duke John, it was said,
was still keeping up secret communications with the seditious
in Paris and with the king of England ; why did he not act
with more energy against this latter, the common enemy?
The two princes in their conference of July 9th, near Malun,
had promised to meet again ; a fresh interview appeared neces
sary in order to give efficacy to their reconciliation. Duke
John was very pressing for the dauphin to go to Troyes, where
the king and queen happened to be. The dauphin on his side
was earnestly solicited by the most considerable burgesses of
Paris to get rfris interview over in order to insure the execution
of the treaty of peace which had been sworn to with the duke
of Burgundy. The dauphin showed a disposition to listen to
these entreaties. He advanced as far as Montereau in order to
be ready to meet Duke John as soon as a place of meeting
should be fixed,

Duke John hesitated, from irresolution even more than from
distrust. It was a serious matter for him to commit himself
more and more, by his own proper motion,, against the king of
England and his old allies amongst the populace of Paris.
Why should he be required to go in person to seek the dauphin?
It was far simpler, he said, for Charles to come to the king his
father. Tanneguy Duchatel went to Troyes to tell the duke
that the dauphin had come to meet him as far as Montereau,
and, with the help of the lady of Giac, persuaded hi™ to repair,
on his side, to Bray-sur-Seine, two leagues from Montereau.
When the two princes had drawn thus near, their agents pro
posed that the interview should take place on the very bridge
Of Montereau, with the precautions and according to the forms
decided on. In the duke's household many of his most de-

CH. xxm. J THB HVJWRED YEARS' WAR. 229

voted servants were opposed to this interview; the place, they
said, had been chosen by and would be under the ordering of
the dauphin's people, of the old servants of the duke of Orleans
and the count of Armagnac. At the same time four succes
sive messages came from Paris urging the duke to make the
plunge; and at last he took his resolution. "It is my duty,"
said he, " to risk my person in order to get at so great a bless
ing as peace. Whatever happens, my wish is peace. If they
kill me, I shall die a martyr. Peace being made, I will take
the men of my lord the dauphin to go and fight the English.
He has some good men of war and some sagacious captains.
Tanneguy and Barbazan are valiant knights. Then we shall
gee which is the better man, Jack (Hannotin) of Flanders or
Henry of Lancaster." He set out for Bray on the 10th of Sep
tember, 1419, and arrived about two o'clock before Montereau.
Tanneguy Duchatel came and met him there. "Well, "said
the duke, "on your assurance we are come to see my lord the
dauphin, supposing that he is quite willing to keep the peace be
tween himself and us as we also will keep it, all ready to serve
him according to his wishes." "My most dread lord,"
answered Tenneguy, "have ye no fear; my lord is well
pleased with you and desires henceforth to govern himself
according to your counsels. You have about him good friends
who serve you well." It was agreed that the dauphin and the
duke should, each from his side, go upon the bridge of Monte
reau, each with ten men-at-arms, of whom they should pre
viously forward a list. The dauphin's people had caused to be
constructed at the two ends of the bridge strong barriers closed
by a gate ; about the centre of the bridge was a sort of lodge
made of planks, the entrance to which was, on either side,
through a pretty narrow passage; within the lodge there was
no barrier in the middle to separate the two parties. Whilst
Duke John and his confidants, in concert with the dauphin's
people, were regulating these material arrangements, a cham
ber-attendant ran in quite scared, shouting out, " My lord, look
to yourself; without a doubt you will be betrayed." The duke
turned towards Tanneguy, and said, "We trust ourselves to
your word ; in God's holy name, are you quite sure of what
you have told us? For you would do ill to betray us." " My
most dread lord," answered Tanneguy, "I would rather be
dead than commit treason against you or any other: have ye
no fear; I certify you that my lord meaneth you no evil."
"Very well, we will go then, trusting in God and you, "re-

230 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [CH. ma

joined the duke; and he set outwalking to the bridge. On
arriving at the barrier on the castle side he found there to re
ceive him sire de Beauveau and Tanneguy Duchatel. "Come
to my lord," said they, "he is awaiting you." "Gentlemen,"
said the duke, "you see how I come;" and he showed them
that he and his people had only their swords ; then clapping
Tanneguy on the shoulder, he said, "Here is he in whom I
trust," and advanced towards the dauphin who remained
standing, on the town side, at the end of the lodge constructed
in the middle of the bridge. On arriving at the prince's pres
ence Duke John took off his velvet cap and bent his knee to
the ground. "My lord," said he. "after God, my duty is to
obey and serve you; I offer to apply thereto and employ
therein my body, my friends, my allies, and well-wishers. Say I
well ?" he added, fixing h vs eyes on the dauphin. ' ' Fair cousin,"
answered the prince, "you say so well that none could say
better; rise and be covered." Conversation thereupon en
sued between the two princes. The dauphin complained
of the duke's delay in coming to see him; "For eighteen
days," he said, "you have made us await your coming in
this place of Montereau, this place a prey to epidemic and
mortality, at the risk of and probably with an eye to our pen-
sonal danger." The duke, surprised and troubled, resumed
his haughty and exacting tone; " We can neither do nor ad
vise aught," said he, "save in your father's presence; you
must come thither." "I shall go when I think proper," said
Charles, " and not at your will and pleasure; it is well-known
that whatever we do, we two together, the king will be content
therewith," Then he reproached the duke with his inertness
against the English, with the capture of Pontoise, and with his
alliances amongst his promoters of civil war. The conversa
tion was becoming more and more acrid and biting. " In so
doing," added the dauphin, "you were wanting to your duty."
" My lord," replied the duke, " I did only what it was my duty
to do." " Fes, you were wanting," repeated Charles. "JVb,"
replied the duke. It was probably at these words that, the
lookers-on also waxing wroth, Tanneguy Duchatel told the
duke that the time had come for expiating the murder of the
duke of Orleans, which none of them had forgotten, and raised
his battle-ax to strike the duke. Sire de Navailles, who hap*
pened to be at his master's side, arrested the weapon; but, on
the other hand, the viscount of Narbonne raised his over Nav«
allies, saying, " Whoever stirs, is a dead man." At this mo-

Cfl. Txm.j THE HUNDRED YEARff WAR. 231

ment, it is said, the mob which was thronging before the bar
riers at the end of the bridge heard cries of "Alarm! slay,
slay." Tanneguy had struck and felled the duke; several
others ran their swords into him ; and he expired. The dauphin
had withdrawn from the scene and gone back into the town.
After his departure his partisans forced the barrier, charged
the dumbfounded Burgundians, sent them flying along the
road to Bray, and returning on to the bridge would have cast
the body of Duke John, after stripping it, into the river; but
the minister of Montereau withstood them and had it carried
to a mill near the bridge. " Next day he was put into a pau
per's shell, with nothing on but hi« shirt and drawers, and was
subsequently interred at the church of Notre-Dame de Monte
reau, without winding-sheet and without pall over his grave."
The enmities of the Orleannesa and the Armagnacs had ob
tained satisfaction ; but they were transferred to the hearts of
the Burgundians. After twelve years of public crime and
misfortune the murder of Louis of Orleans had been avenged;
and should not that of John of Burgundy be, in its turn?
Wherever the direct power or the indirect influence of the
duke of Burgundy was predominant, there was a burst of in
dignation and vindictive passion. As soon as the count of
Charolais, Philip, afterwards called the Good, heard at Ghent,
where he happened at that time to be, of his father's murder,
he was proclaimed duke of Burgundy. " Michelle," said he to
his wife, sister of the dauphin, Charles, "your brother has
murdered my father." The princess burst into tears; but the
new duke calmed her by saying that nothing could alter the
love and confidence he felt towards her. At Troyes Queen
Isabel showed more anger than any one else against her son,
the dauphin; and she got a letter written by King Charles VI.
to the dowager duchess of Burgundy, begging her, her and
her children, "to set in motion all their relatives, friends, and
vassals to avenge Duke John." At Paris, on the 12th of Sep
tember, the next day but one after the murder, the chancellor,
the parliament, the provost royal, the provost of tradesmen,
and all the councillors and officers of the king assembled, "to
gether with great number of nobles and burgesses and a great
multitude of people," who all swore "to oppose with their
bodies and all their might the enterprise of the criminal
breakers of the peace, and to prosecute the cause of vengeance
and reparation against those who were guilty of the death and
homicide of the late duke of Burgundy." Independently of

232 BISTORT OP FRANCE. [en. xxm.

party-passion, such was, in northern and eastern France, the
general and spontaneous sentiment of the people. The dauphin
and his councillors, in order to explain and justify their act,
wrote in all directions to say that, during the interview, Duke
John had answered the dauphin "with mad words. . . He
had felt for his sword in order to attack and outrage our per
son, the which, as we have since found out, he aspired to place
in subjection . . . but, through his own madness, met death
instead." But these assertions found little credence, and one
of the two knights who were singled out by the dauphin to ac
company him on to the bridge of Montereau, sire de Barbazan,
who had been a friend of the duke of Orleans and of the count
of Armagnac, said vehemently to the authors of the plot, " You
have destroyed our master's honor and heritage, and I would
rather have died than be present at this day's work, even
though I had not been there to no purpose. " But it was not
long before an event, easy to foresee, counterbalanced this
general impression and restored credit and strength to the
dauphin and his party. Henry V., king of England, as soon
as he heard about the murder of Duke John, set himself to
work to derive from it all the advantages he anticipated. " A
great loss," said he, " is the duke of Burgundy; he was a good
and true knight and an honorable prince ; but through his death
we are by God's help at the summit of our wishes. We shall
thus, in spite of all Frenchmen, possess dame Catherine, whom
we have so much desired." As early as the 24th of September,

1419, Henry V. gave full powers to certain of his people to treat
"with the illustrious city of Paris and the other towns in ad
herence to the said city." On the 17th of October was opened
at Arras a congress between the plenipotentiaries of England
and those of Burgundy. On the 20th of November a special
truce was granted to the Parisians, whilst Henry V., in con
cert with Duke Philip of Burgundy, was prosecuting the war
against the dauphin. On the 2nd of December the bases were
laid of an agreement between the English and the Burgun-
dians. The preliminaries of the treaty which was drawn up
in accordance with these bases were signed on the 9th of April,

1420, by King Charles VI., and on the 20th communicated at
Paris by the chancellor of France to the parliament and to all
the religious and civil, royal and municipal authorities of the
capital. After this communication, the chancellor and the pre
mier president of parliament went with these preliminaries to
Henry V. at Pontoise, whence he set out with a division of hia

CH. nan.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 233

army for Troyes, where the treaty, definitive and complete,
was at last signed and promulgated in the cathedral of Troyes,
on the 21st of May, 1420.

Of the twenty-eight articles in this treaty, five contained its
essential points and fixed its character: — 1st. The king of
France, Charles VI. , gave his daughter Catherine in marriage
to Henry V., king of England. 2nd. "Our son, King Henry,
shall place no hindrance or trouble in the way of our holding
and possessing as long as we live and as at the present time
the crown, the kingly dignity of France and all the revenues,
proceeds, and profits which are attached thereto for the main
tenance of our state and the charges of the kingdom. 3rd. It
is agreed that immediately after our death, and from that time
forward, the crown and kingdom of France, with all their
rights and appurtenances, shall belong perpetually and shall be
continued to our son King Henry and his heirs. 4th. Whereas
we are, at most times, prevented from advising by ourselves
and from taking part in the disposal of the affairs of our king
dom, the power and the practice of governing and ordering the
commonweal shall belong and shall be continued, during our
life, to our son King Henry, with the counsel of the nobles and
sages of the kingdom who shall obey us and shall desire the
honor and advantage of the saif. kingdom. 5th. Our son King
Henry shall strive with all his might, and as soon as possible,
to bring back to their obcdionce to us, all and each of the
towns, cities, castles, places, districts, and persons in our king
dom that belong to the party commonly called of the dauphin
or Armagnac."

This substitution, hi the near future, of an English for the
French kingship; this relinquishment, in the present, of the
government of France to the hands of an English prince nom
inated to become before long her king; this authority given to
the English prince to prosecute in France, against the dauphin
of France, a civil war; this complete abdication of all the
rights and duties of the kingship, of paternity and of national
independence; and, to sum up all in one word, this anti-French
state-stroke accomplished by a king of France, with the co
operation of him who was the greatest amongst French lords,
to the advantage of a foreign sovereign— there was surely in
this enough to excite the most ardent and most legitimate
national feelings. They did not show themselves promptly or
with a blaze. The fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, after so
many military and civil troubles, had great weaknesses and

234 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [OH. xxm

deep seated corruption in mind and character. Nevertheless
the revulsion against the treaty of Troyes was real and serious,
even in the very heart of the party attached to the duke of
Burgundy. He was obliged to lay upon cetera! of his servants
formal injunctions to swe^T to 'Ms peace, which seemed to
them treason. He had great diuiculty in winning John of
Luxembourg and his brother Louis, bishop of Therouenne,
over to it. "It is your will," said they; "we will take this
oath; but if we do, we will keep it to the hour of death." Many
less powerful lords, who had lived a long while in the house
hold of Duke John the Fearless, quitted his son, and sorrow
fully returned to their own homes. They were treated as
Armagnacs, but they persisted in calling themselves good and
loyal Frenchmen. In the duchy of Bergundy the majority of
the towns refused to take the oath to the king of England.
The most decisive and the most helpful proof of this awaken
ing of national f eeling was the ease experienced by the dauphin
who was one day to be Charles VII. in maintaining the war
which, after the treaty of Troyes, was, in his father's and his
mother's name, made upon him by the king of England and
the duke of Burgundy. This war lasted more than three years=
Several towns, amongst others, Melun, Crotoy, Meaux, and St.
Riquier, offered an obstinate resistance to the attacks of the
English and Burgundians. On the 23rd of March, 1421, the
dauphin's troops, commanded by sire de la Fayette, gained a
signal victory over those of Henry V., whose brother, the duke
of Clarence, was killed in action. It was in Perche, Anjou,
Maine, on the banks of the Loire and in southern France that
the dauphin found most of his enterprising and devoted par
tisans. The sojourn made by Henry V. at Paris, in December,
1420, with his wife, Queen Catherine, King Charles VI., Queen
Isabel, and the duke of Burgundy, was not, in spite of galas
and acclamations, a substantial and durable success for him.
His dignified but haughty manners did not please the French;
and he either could not or would not render them more easy
and amiable, even with men of note who were necessary to
him. Marshal Isle- Adam one day went to see him in camp on
war-business. The king considered that he did not present
nimself with sufficient ceremony. "Isle- Adam," said he, "is
that the robe of a marshal of France?" " Sir, I had this whitey-
grey robe made to come hither by water aboard of Seme-boats."
" Hal" said the king, "look you a prince in the face when you
speak to him?" "Sir, it is the custom in France that when

CH. xxnt] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 235

one man speaks to another, of whatever rank and puissance
that other may be, he passes for a sorry fellow and but little
honorable if he dares not look him in the face." " It is not our
fashion," said the king; and the subject dropped there. A
popular poet of the time, Alan Chartier, constituted himself
censor of the moral corruption and interpreter of the patriotic
paroxysms caused by the cold and harsh supremacy of this
unbending foreigner who set himself up for king of France
and had not one feeling in sympathy with the French. Alan
Chartier's Quadriloge invectif is a lively and sometimes elo
quent allegory hi which France personified implores her three
children, the clergy, the chivalry, and the people, to forget
their own quarrels and unite to save their mother whilst sav
ing themselves; and this political pamphlet getting spread
about amongst the provinces did good service to the national
cause against the foreign conqueror. An event more powerful
than any human eloquence occurred to give the dauphin and
his partisans earlier hopes. Towards the end of August, 1422.
Henry V. fell ill; and, too stout-hearted to delude himself as to
his condition, he thought no longer of any thing but preparing
himself for death. He had himself removed to Vincennes,
called his councillors about him, and gave them his last royal
instructions. "I leave you the government of France," said he
to his brother, the duke of Bedford, " unless our brother of
Burgundy have a mind to undertake it ; for, above all things,
I conjure you not to have any dissention with him. If that
should happen— God preserve you from it !— the affairs of this
kingdom which seem well advanced for us would become bad.'*
As soon as he had done with politics he bade his doctors tell
him how long he had still to live. One of them knelt down
before his bed and said, "Sir, be thinking of your soul; it
seemeth to us that, saving the divine mercy, you have not
more than two hours." The king summoned his confessor
with the priests, and asked to have recited to him the peni
tential psalms. When they came to the twentieth versicle of
Mserere: Ut cedificentur mwri Hierusalem (that the walls of
Jerusalem may be built up), he made them stop. "Ah!" said
he, "if God had been pleased to let me live out my time, I
would, after putting an end to the war in France, reducing the
dauphin to submission or driving him out of the kingdom in
which I would have established a sound peace, have gone to
conquer Jerusalem. The wars I have undertaken have had
fbe approval of all the proper men and of the most holy per-

236 HISTORY OF FRANCE. fen.

sonages; I commenced them and have prosecuted them with
out offence to God or peril to my soul." These were his last
words. The chanting of the psalms was resumed around him,
and he expired on the 31st of August, 1422, at the age of thirty-
four. A great soul and a great king ; but a great example also
of the houndless errors which may be fallen into by the
greatest men when they pursue with arrogant confidence their
own views, forgetting the laws of justice and the rights of
Other men.

On the 22nd of October, 1422, less than two months after the
death of Henry V., Charles VI., king of France, died at Paris
in the forty-third year of his reign. As soon as he had been
buried at St. Denis, the duke of Bedford, regent of France ac
cording to the will of Henry V., caused a herald to proclaim,
"Long live Henry of Lancaster, king of England and of
France I" The people's voice made very different proclama
tion. It had always been said that the public evils proceeded
from the state of illness into which the unhappy King Charles
had fallen. The goodness he had given glimpses of in his lucid
intervals had made him an object of tender pity. Some weeks
yet before his death, when he had entered Paris again, the in
habitants in the midst of their sufferings and under the harsh
government of the English had seen with joy their poor mad
king coming back amongst them, and had greeted him with
thousand-fold shouts of "Noel!" His body lay in state for
three days, with the face uncovered, in a hall of the hostel of
St. Paul, and the multitude went thither to pray for him, say
ing, "Ah I dear prince, never shall we have any so good as
thou wert ; never shall we see thee more. Accursed be thy
death ! Since thou dost leave us, we shall never have aught
but wars and troubles. As for thee, thou goest to thy rest; as
for us, we remain in tribulation and sorrow. We seem made
to fall into the same distress as the children of Israel during
the captivity in Babylon."

The people's instinct was at the same time right and wrong.
France had yet many evil days to go through and cruel trials
to endure; she was, however, to be saved at last; Charles VL
wag to be followed by Charles VII. and Joan of Arc.

[. xxiv J THS UUND&EV YEARS? WAR. 887

CHAPTER XXIV,

THE HUNDRED YEAR'S WAR— CHARLES VH. AND JOAN OF ABO.
1422—1461.

WHILST Charles VI. was dying at Paris, his son Charles,
the dauphin, was on his way back from Saintonge to Berry,
where he usually resided. On the 24th of October, 1422, at
Mehun-sur-Yevre, he heard of his father's death. For six days
longer, from the 24th to the 29th of October, he took no style
but that of regent, as if he were waiting to see what was going
to happen elsewhere in respect of the succession to the throne.
It was only when he knew that, on the 27th of October, the
parliament of Paris had, not without some little hesitation and
ambiguity, recognized "as king of England and of France,
Henry VI., son of Henry V. lately deceased," that the dauphin
Charles assumed on the 30th of October, in his castle of Mehun-
sur-Y&vre, the title of king and repaired to Bourges to inaugu
rate in the cathedral of that city his reign as Charles VII.

He was twenty years old, and had as yet done nothing to
to gain for himself, not to say anything of glory, the confidence
and hopes of the people. He passed for an indolent and frivo
lous prince, abandoned to his pleasures only; one whose capac
ity there was nothing to foreshadow and of whom France, out
side of his own court, scarcely ever thought at all. Some days
before his accession he had all but lost his life at Rochelle by
the sudden breaking down of the room in the episcopal palace
where he was staying; and so little did the country know of
what happened to him that, a short time after the accident,
messengers sent by some of his partisans had arrived at
Bourges to inquire if the prince were still living. At a time
when not only the crown of the kingdom but the existence and
independence of the nation were at stake Charles had not given
any signs of being strongly moved by patriotic feelings. * ' He
was, in person, a handsome prince and handsome in speech
with all persons and compassionate towards poor folks," says
his contemporary Monstrelet; "but he did not readily put on
his harness, and he had no heart for war if he could do without
it." OD ascending the throne, this young prince, so little of tha

238 maTozr OF FRANOB. (OH.

politician and so little of the knight, encountered at the head
of L3s enemies the most ahle amongst the politicians and war
riors of the day in the duke of Bedford, whom his brother
Henry V. had appointed regent of France and had charged to
defend on behalf of his nephew, Henry VI., a child in the
cradle, the crown of France already more than half won.
Never did struggle appear more unequal or native king more
Inferior to foreign pretender.

Sagacious observers, however, would have hasily discerned
in the cause which appeared the stronger and the better sup
ported many seeds of weakness and danger. "When Philip the
Good, duke of Burgundy, heard at Arras, that Charles VI. was
dead, it occurred to him immediately that if he attended the
obsequies of the English king of France he would be obliged,
French prince as he was and cousin-german of Charles VI., to
yield precedence to John, duke of Bedford, regent of France
and uncle of the new king Henry VI. He resolved to hold
aloof and contented himself with sending to Paris chamber
lains to make his excuses and supply his place with the regent.
On the llth of November, 1423, the duke of Bedford followed
alone at the funeral of the late king of France and alone made
offering at the mass. Alone he went, but with the sword of
state borne before him as regent. The people of Paris cast
down their eyes with restrained wrath. "They wept," says a
contemporary, "and not without cause, for they knew not
whether for a long, long while they would have any king in
France." But they did not for long confine themselves to
tears. Two poets, partly in Latin and partly in French,
Robert Blondel and Alan Chartier, whilst deploring the public
woes, excited the popular feeling. Conspiracies soon followed
the songs. One was set on foot at Paris to deli ver the city to
King Charles VII., but it was stifled ruthlessly; several bur
gesses were beheaded, and one woman was burned. In several
great provincial cities, at Troyes and at Rheims, the same
ferment showed itself and drew down the same severity.
William Prieuse, superior of the Carmelites, was accused of
propagating sentiments favorable to the dauphin, ^as the
English called Charles VH. Being brought, in spite of the
privileges of his gown, before John Cauchon, lieutenant of the
captain of Rheims [related probably to Peter Cauchon, bishop
of Beauvais, who nine years afterwards was to sentence Joan
of Arc to be burned], he stoutly replied, " Never was English
king of France and never shall be." The country had no mind

CH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 239

to believe in the conquest it was undergoing; and the duke of
Burgundy, the most puissant ally of the English, sulkily went
on eluding the consequences of the anti-national alliance he had
accepted.

Such being the disposition of conquerors and conquered, the
war, though still carried on with great spirit, could not and in
fact did not bring about any decisive result from 1422 to 1429.1
Towns were alternately taken, lost, and retaken, at one time by
the French, at another by the English or Burgundians ; petty
encounters and even important engagements took place with
vicissitudes of success and reverses on both sides. At Crevant-
sur-Yonne, on the 31st of July, 1423, and at Verneuil, in Nor
mandy, on the 17th of August, 1424, the French were beaten,
and their faithful allies, the Scots, suffered considerable loss.
In the latter affair, however, several Norman lords deserted
the English flag, refusing to fight against the king of France.
On the 26th of September, 1423, at La Gravelle, in Maine, the
French were victorious, and Du Guesclin was commemorated
in their victory. Anne de Laval, granddaughter of the great
Breton warrior and mistress of a castle hard by the scene of
action, sent thither her son, Andrew de Laval, a child twelve
years of age, and, as she buckled with her own hands the sword
which his ancestor had worn, she said to him, "God make
thee as valiant as he whose sword this was!" The boy re
ceived the order of knighthood on the field of battle, and be
came afterwards a marshal of France. Little bands, made up
of volunteers, attempted enterprises which the chiefs of the
regular armies considered impossible. Stephen de Vignolles,
celebrated under the name of La Hire, resolved to succor the
town of Montargis, besieged by the English; and young Dunois,
the bastard of Orleans, joined him. On arriving, September
6th, 1427, beneath the walls of the place, a priest was encoun
tered in their road. La Hire asked him for absolution. The
priest told him to confess. " I have no time for that," said La
Hire, " I am in a hurry ; I have done in the way of sins all that
men of war are in the habit of doing." Whereupon, says the
chronicler, the chaplain gave him absolution for what it was
worth; and La Hire, putting his hands together, said, "God,
I pray Thee to do for La Hire this day as much as Thou
wouldst have La Hire do for Thee if he were God and Thou
wert La Hire. " And Montargis was rid of its besiegers. The
English were determined to become masters of Mont St. Michel
au peril de la mer, that abbey built on a rock facing the west-

U VOL. 2

240 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxnr.

era coast of Normandy and surrounded every day by the
waves of ocean. The thirty-second abbot, Robert Jolivet,
promised to give the place up to them and went to Rouen with
that design ; but one of his monks, John Enault, being elected
vicar-general by the chapter, and supported by some valiant
Norman warriors, offered an obstinate resistance for eight
years, baffled all the attacks of the English, and retained the
abbey in the possession of France. The inhabitants of La
Rochelle rendered the same service to the king and to France
in a more important case. On the 15th of August, 1427, an
English fleet of a hundred and twenty sail, it is said, appeared
off their city with invading troops aboard. The Rochellese
immediately levied upon themselves an extraordinary tax and
put themselves in a state of defence; troops raised in the
neighborhood went and occupied the heights bordering on the
coast ; and a bold Breton sailor, Bernard de Kercabin, put to
sea to meet the enemy, with ships armed as privateers. The
attempt of the English seemed to them to offer more danger
than chance of success; and they withdrew. Thus Charles
VII. kept possession of the only seaport remaining to the crown.
Almost everywhere in the midst of war as indecisive as it was
obstinate local patriotism and the spirit of chivalry success
fully disputed against foreign supremacy the scattered frag
ments of the fatherland and the throne.

In order to put an end to this doubtful condition of events
and of minds, the duke of Bedford determined to aim a grand
blow at the national party in France and at her king. After
Paris and Rouen, Orleans was the most important city in the
kingdom ; it was as supreme on the banks of the Loire as Paris
and Rouen were on those of the Seine. After having obtained
from England considerable reinforcements commanded by
leaders of experience, the English commenced, in October,
1428, the siege of Orleans. The approaches to the place were
occupied in force, and bastilles closely connected one with an
other were constructed around the walls. As a set off, the
most valiant warriors of France, La Hire, Dunois, Xaintrailles,
and the marshal La Fayette threw themselves into Orleans, the
garrison of which amounted to scarcely twelve hundred men.
Several towns, Bourges, Poitiers, and La Rochelle sent thither
money, munitions, and militia; the states-general, assembled
at Chinon, voted an extraordinary aid ; and Charles Vll. called
out the regulars and the reserves. Assaults on the one side
and sorties on the other were begun with ardor. Besiegers

OH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 241

and besieged quite felt that they were engaged jn a decisive
struggle. The first encounter was unfortunate for the Orlean-
nese. In a fight called the herring affair, they were unsuccess
ful in an attempt to carry off a supply of victuals and salt fish
which Sir John Falstolf was bringing to the |besiegers. Being
a little discouraged, they offered the duke of Burgundy to
place their city in his hands that it might not fall into those of
the English ; and Philip the Good accepted the offer, but the
duke of Bedford made a formal objection : " He didn't care,"
he said, "to beat the bushes for another to get the birds."
Philip in displeasure withdrew from jthe siege the small (force
of Burgundians he had sent. The English remained alone be
fore the place, which was every day harder pressed and more
strictly blockaded. The besieged were far from foreseeing
what succor was preparing for them.

This very year, on the 6th of January, 1428, at Domremy, a
little village in the valley of the Meuse, between Neuf chateau
and Vaucouleurs, on the edge of the frontier from Champagne
td Lorraine, the young daughter of simple tillers-of-the-soil
" of good life and repute, herself a good, simple, gentle girl, no
idler, occupied hitherto in sewing or spinning with her mother
or driving afield her parent's sheep and sometimes even, when
her father's turn came round, keeping for him the whole flock
of the commune," was fulfilling her sixteenth year. It was
Joan of Arc, whom all her neighbors called Joannette. She
was no recluse ; she often went with her companions to sing
and eat cakes beside the fountain by the gooseberry-bush, under
an old beech, which was called the fairy -tree : but dancing she
did not like. She was constant at church, she delighted in the
sound of the bells, she went often to confession and -com
munion, and she blushed when her fair friends taxed her with
being too religious. In 1421, when Joan was hardly nine, a
band of Anglo-Burgundians penetrated into her country and
transferred thither the ravages of war. The village of Dom
remy and the little town of Vaucouleurs were French and
faithful to the French kingship ; and Joan wept to see the lads
of her parish returning bruised and bleeding from encounters
with the enemy. Her relations and neighbors were one day
obliged to take to flight, and at their return they found their
houses burnt or devastated. Joan wondered whether it could
possibly be that God permitted such excesses and disasters.
In 1425, 7on a summer's day, at noon, she was in her father's
little garden. She heard a voice calling her, at her right side,

242 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxiy.

in the direction of the church and a great brightness shone
upon her at the same time in the same spot. At first she was
frightened, but she recovered herself on finding that u it was a
worthy voice ;" and, at the second call, she perceived that it
was the voice of angels. " I saw them with my bodily eyes,"
she said six years later to her judges at Rouen, "as plainly as
I see you ; when they departed from me I wept and would fain
have had them take me with them." The apparitions came
again and again, and exhorted her "to go to France for to de
liver the kingdom." She became dreamy, wrapt in constant
meditation. "I could endure no longer," said she at a later
period, " and the time went heavily with me as with a woman
in travail." She ended by telling every thing to her father,
who listened to her words anxiously at first and afterwards
wrathfully. He himself one night dreamed that his daughter
had followed the king's men-at-arms to France, and from that
moment he kept her under strict superintendence. " If I
knew of your sister's going," he said to his sons, "I would bid
you drown her ; and, if you did not do it, I would drown her
myself." Joan submitted: there was no leaven of pride in her
sublimation, and she did not suppose that her intercourse with
celestial voices relieved her from the duty of obeying her
parents. Attempts were made to distract her mind. A young
man who had courted her was induced to say that he had a
promise of marriage from her and to claim the fulfilment of it.
Joan went before the ecclesiastical judge, made affirmation
that she had given no promise and without difficulty gained
her cause. Every body believed and respected her.

In a village hard by Domremy she had an uncle whose wife
was near her confinement ; she got herself invited to go and
nurse her aunt, and thereupon she opened her heart to her
uncle, repeating to him a popular saying which had spread in
deed throughout the country: " Is it not said that a woman
shall ruin France and a young maid restore it?" She pressed
him to take her to Vaucouleurs to sire Robert de Baudricourt,
captain of the bailiwick, for she wished to go to the dau
phin and carry assistance to him. Her uncle gave way, and
on the 13th of May, 1428, he did take her to Vaucouleurs. "I
come on behalf of my Lord," said she to sire de Baudricourt,
" to bid you send word to the dauphin to keep himself well in
hand and not give battle to his foes, for my Lord will presently
give him succour." "Who is thy lord?" asked Baudricourt.
" The king of Heaven," answered Joan. Baudricourt set her

«H. XXIY.] THE HUNDRED YEARff WAR. 343

down mad and urged her uncle to take her back to her parents
" with a good slap o' the face."

In July, 1428, a fresh invasion of Burgundians occurred at
Domremy, and redoubled the popular excitement there.
Shortly afterwards, the report touching the siege of Orleans
arrived there. Joan, more and more passionately possessed
with her idea, returned to Vaucouleurs. "I must go, w said
she to sire de Baudricourt, ufor to raise the siege of Orleans.
I will go, should I have to wear off my legs to the knee." She
had returned to Vaucouleurs without taking leave of her
parents. "Had I possessed," said she, in 1431, to her judges
at Eouen, " a hundred fathers and a hundred mothers and had
I been a king's daughter, I should have gone." Baudricourt,
impressed without being convinced, did not oppose her remain
ing at Vaucouleurs, and sent an account of this singular young
girl to Duke Charles of Lorraine, at Nancy, and perhaps even,
according to some chronicles, to the king's court. Joan
lodged at Vaucouleurs in a wheelwright's house, and passed
three weeks there, spinning with her hostess and dividing her
time between work and church. There was much talk in
Vaucouleurs of her and her visions and her purpose. John of
Metz [also called John of Novelompont], a knight serving with
sire de Baudricourt, desired to see her, and went to the wheel
wright's. " What do you here, my dear?" said he; " must the
king be driven from his kingdom and we become English?"
" I am come hither," answered Joan, " to speak to Robert de
Baudricourt, that he may be pleased to take me or have me
taken to the king ; but he pays no heed to me or my words.
However, I must be with the king before the middle of Lent,
for none in the world, nor kings, nor dukes, nor daughter of
the Scottish king can recover the kingdom of France ; there is
no help but in me. Assuredly I would far rather be spinning
beside my poor mother, for this other is not my condition ; but
I must go and do the work because my Lord wills that I
should do it.' " Who is your Lord?" " The Lord God." "By
my faith," said the knight, seizing Joan's hands, " I will take
you to the king, God helping. When will you set out."
" Rather now than to-morrow; rather to-morrow than later."
Vaucouleurs was full of the fame and the sayings of Joan.
Another knight, Bertrand de Poulengy, offered, as John of Metz
had, to be her escort. Duke Charles of Lorraine wished to see
her, and sent for her to Nancy. Old and ill as he was, he had
deserted the duchess his wife, a virtuous lady, and was leading

244 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxrr.

any thing but a regular life. He asked Joan's advice about his
health. " I have no power to cure you," said Joan, " but go
back to your wife and help me in that for which God ordains
me." The duke ordered her four golden crowns, and she re
turned to Vaucouleurs thinking of nothing but her departure.
There was no want of confidence and good will on the part of
the inhabitants of Vaucouleurs in forwarding her preparations.
John of Metz, the knight charged to accompany her, asked her
if she intended to make the journey in her poor red rustic
petticoats. " I would like to don man's clothes," answered
Joan. Subscriptions were made to give her a suitable cos
tume. She was supplied with a horse, a coat of mail, a lance,
a sword, the complete equipment, indeed, of a man-at-arms;
and a king's messenger and an archer formed her train. Bau-
dricourt made them swear to escort her safely, and on the 25th
of February, 1429, he bade her farewell, and all he said was,
"Away then, Joan, and come what may."

Charles VII. was at that time residing at Chinon, in Tour-
aine. In order to get there Joan had nearly a hundred and
fifty leagues to go, in a country occupied here and there by
English and Burgundians and every where a theatre of war.
She took eleven days to do this journey, often marching by
night, never giving up man's dress, disquieted by no difficulty
and no danger, and testifying no desire for a halt save to wor
ship God. " Could we hear mass daily," said she to her com
rades, " we should do well." They only consented twice, first
in the abbey of St. Urban, and again in the principal church of
Auxerre. As they were full of respect though at the same
time also of doubt towards Joan, she never had to defend her
self against their familiarities, but she had constantly to dissi
pate their disquietude touching the reality or the character of
her mission. " Fear nothing," she said to them, " God shows
me the way I should go ; for thereto I was born." On arriving
at the village of St. Catherine-de-Fierbois, near Chinon, she
heard three masses on the same day and had a letter written
thence to the king to announce her coming and to ask to see
him; she had gone, she said, a hundred and fifty leagues to
come and tell him things which would be most useful to him.
Charles VII. and Jhis councillors hesitated. The 'men of war
did not like to believe that a little peasant-girl of Lorraine was
coming to bring the king a more effectual support than their
own. Nevertheless some, and the most heroic amongst them,
Dunuios, La Hire, and Xaintrailles, were moved by what was

OT. mr.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 245

told of this young girl. The letters of sire de Baudricourt,
though full of doubt, suffered a gleam of something like a seri
ous impression to peep out ; and why should not the king re
ceive this young girl whom the captain of Vaucouleurs had
thought it a duty to send? It would soon be seen what she
was and what she would do. The politicians and courtiers,
especially the most trusted of them, George de la Tremoille
the king's favorite, shrugged their shoulders. What could be
expected from the dreams of a young peasant-girl of nineteen?
Influences of a more private character and more disposed to
ward sympathy— Yolande of Arragon, for instance, queen ot
Sicily and mother-in-law of Charles VII., and perhaps also her
daughter the young queen, Mary of Anjou, were urgent for
the king to reply to Joan that she might go to Chinon. She
was authorized to do so, and on 6th of March, 1429, she with
her comrades arrived at the royal residence.

At the very first moment two incidents occurred to still
further increase the curiosity of which she was the object.
Quite close to Chinon some vagabonds, it is said, had prepared
an ambuscade for the purpose of despoiling her, her and her
train. She passed close by them without the least obstacle.
The rumor went that at her approach they were struck motion
less, and had been unable to attempt their wicked purpose.
Joan was rather tall, well shaped, dark, with a look of com
posure, animation, and gentleness. A man-at-arms, who met
her on her way, thought her pretty, and, with an impious
oath, expressed a coarse sentiment. "Alasl" said Joan,
"thou blasphemest thy God and yet thou art so near thy
death !" He drowned himself, it is said, soon after. Already
popular feeling was surrounding her marvellous mission with
a halo of instantaneous miracles.

On her arrival at Chinon she at first lodged with an honest
family near the castle. For three days longer there was a de
liberation in the council as to whether the king ought to re
ceive her. But there was bad news from Orleans. There
were no more troops to send thither and there was no money
forthcoming: the king's treasurer, it was said, had but four
crowns in the chest. If Orleans were taken, the king would
perhaps be reduced to seeking a refuge in Spain or in Scotland.
Joan promised to set Orleans free. The Orleannese themselves
were clamorous for her ; Dunois kept up their spirits with the
expectation of this marvellous assistance. It was decided that
the king should receive her. She had assigned to her for

246 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxiy.

residence an apartment in the tower of the Coudray, a block
of quarters adjoining the royal mansion, and she was com
mitted to the charge of William Bellier, an officer of the king's
household, whose wife was a woman of great piety and excel
lent fame. On the 9th of March, 1429, Joan was at last intro
duced into the king's presence by the count of Vendome, high
steward, in the great hall on the first story, a portion of the
wall and the fire-place being still visible in the present day. It
was evening, candle-light ; and nearly three hundred knights
were present. Charles kept himself a little aloof, amidst a
group of warriors and courtiers more richly dressed than he.
According to some chroniclers, Joan had demanded that ''she
should not be deceived, and should have pointed out to her
him to whom she was to speak ;" others affirm that she went
straight to the king whom she had never seen, " accosting him
humbly and simply, like a poor little shepherdess," says an
eye- witness, and, according to another account, * ' making the
usual bends and reverences as if she had been brought up at
court." Whatever may have been her outward behavior,
" Gentle dauphin," she said to the king (for she did not think
it right to call him Icing so long as he was not crowned), " my
name is Joan the maid ; the King of Heaven sendeth you word
by me that you shall be anointed and crowned in the city of
Eheims, and shall be lieutenant of the King of Heaven, who ia
king of France. It is God's pleasure that our enemies the
English should depart to their own country ; if they depart
not, evil will come to them, and the kingdom is sure to con
tinue yours." Charles was impressed without being con
vinced, as so many others had been before or were, as he was,
on that very day. He saw Joan again several times. She did
not delude herself as to the doubts he still entertained. * ' Gentle
dauphin," she said to him one day, "why do you not believe
me? I say unto you that God hath compassion on you, your
kingdom,, and your people; St. Louis and Charlemagne are
kneeling before- Him, making prayer for you, and I will say
unto you, so please you, a thing which will give you to under
stand that you ought to believe me." Charles gave her audi
ence on this occasion in the presence, according to some
accounts, of four witnesses, the most trusted of his intimates,
who swore to reveal nothing, and, according to others, com
pletely alone. "What she said to him there is none who
knows," wrote Alan Chartier a short time after [in July,
1429], " but it is quite certain that he was all radiant with joy

CH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR, 247

thereat as at a revelation from the Holy Spirit." M. Wallon,
after a scrupulous sifting of evidence, has given the following
exposition of this mysterious interview. "Sire de Boisy," he
says, " who was in his youth one of the gentleman-of-t he-bed
chamber on the most familiar terms with Charles VII., told
Peter Sala, giving the king himself as his authority for the
story, that one day, at the period of his greatest adversity, the
prince, vainly looking for a remedy against so many troubles,
entered in the morning, alone, into his oratory and there, with
out uttering a word aloud, made prayer to God from the
depths of his heart that, if he were the true heir, issue of the
House of France (and a doubt was possible with such a queen
as Isabel of Bavaria), and the kingdom ought justly to be his,
God would be pleased to keep and defend it for him ; if not, to
give him grace to escape without death or imprisonment and
find safety in Spain or in Scotland, where he intended in the
last resort to seek a refuge. This prayer, known to God alone,
the Maid recalled to the mind of Charles VII., and thus is ex
plained the joy which, as the witnesses say, he testified whilst
none at that time knew the cause. Joan by this revelation not
only caused the king to believe in her ; she caused him to be
lieve in himself and his right and title : though she never spoko
in that way as of her own motion to the king, it was always a
superior power speaking by her voice, * I tell thee on behalf of
my Lord that thou art true heir of France and son of the
king.'" [Jeanne ef Arc, by M. Wallon, t. i. p. 32.]

Whether Charles VII. were or were not convinced by this
interview of Joan's divine mission, he clearly saw that many
of those about him had little or no faith in it, and that other
proofs were required to upset their doubts. He resolved to go
to Poitiors, where his council, the parliament and several
learned members of the University of Paris were in session,
and have Joan put to the strictest examination. When she
learned her destination, she said, "In the name of God, I
know that I shall have tough work there, but my Lord will
help me. Let us go, then, for God's sake." On her arrival at
Poitiers, on the llth of March, 1429, she was placed in one of
the most respectable families in the town, that of John Rabu-
teau, advocate-general in parliament. The archbishop of
Rheims, Reginald de Chartres, chancellor of France, five
bishops, the king's councillors, several learned doctors, and
amongst others Father Seguin, an austere and harsh Domini
can, repaired thither to question her. When she saw them

248 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH.

come in, she went and sat down at the end of the bench and
asked them what they wanted with her. For two hours they
set themselves to the task of showing her "by fair and gentle
arguments" that she was not entitled to belief. " Joan," said
William Aimery, professor of theology, " you ask for men-at-
arms, and you say that it is God's pleasure that the English
should leave the kingdom of France and depart to their own
land ; if so, there is no need of men-at-arms, for God's pleasure
alone can discomfit them and force them to return to their
homes," "In the name of God," answered Joan, "the men-
at-arms will do battle and God will give them victory. " Master
William did not urge his point. The Dominican, Seguin, "a
very sour man," says the chronicle, asked Joan what language
the voices spoke to her. " Better than yours," answered Joan.
The doctor spoke the Limousine dialect. "Do you believe hi
God?" he asked ill-humoredly. " More than you do," retorted
Joan offended. "Well," rejoined the monk, "God forbids
belief in you without some sign tending thereto : I shall not
give the king advice to trust men-at-arms to you and put them
in peril on your simple word." " In the name of God," said
Joan, "I am not come to Poitiers to show signs; take me to
Orleans and I will give you signs of what I am sent for. Let
me have ever so few men-at-arms given me and I will go to
Orleans;" then, addressing another of the examiners, Master
Peter of Versailles, who was afterwards bishop of Meaux, she
said, " I know nor A nor B; but in our Lord's book there is
more than in your books; I come on behalf of the King of
Heaven to cause the siege of Orleans to be raised and to take
the king to Eheims that he may be crowned and anointed
there." The examination was prolonged for a fortnight, not
without symptoms of impatience on the part of Joan. At the
end of it she said to one of the doctors, John Erault, "Have
you paper and ink? Write what I shall say to you;" and she
dictated a form of letter which became some weeks later the
manifesto addressed in a. more developed shape by her from
Orleans to the English, calling upon them to raise the siege
and put a stop to the war. The chief of those piously and
patriotically heroic phrases were as follows : —

" Jesu Maria,

" King of England, account to the King of Heaven for Hi*
blood royal. Give up to the Maid the keys of all the good
towns you have taken by force. She is come from God to
avenge the blood royal and quite ready to make peace if you

OH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 249

will render proper account. If you do not so, I am a war-
chief ; in whatsoever place I shall fall in with your folks in
France, if they be not willing to obey, I shall make them get
thence, whether they will or not; and if they be willing to
obey, I will receive them to mercy. . . . The Maid couieth
from the King of Heaven as His representative, to thrust you
out of France ; she doth promise and certify you that she will
make therein such mighty haha [great tumult] that for a
thousand years hitherto in France was never the like. . . .
Duke of Bedford, who call yourself regent of France, the Maid
doth pray you and request you not to bring destruction on
yourself; if you do not justice towards her, she will do the
finest deed ever done in Christendom.

" Writ on Tuesday in the great week" [Easter week, March,
1429]. Subscribed: "Hearken to the news from God and the
Maid."

At the end of their examination the doctors decided in Joan's
favor. Two of them, the bishop of Castres, Gerard Machet,
the king's confessor, and Master John Erault, recognized the
divine nature of her mission. She was, they said, the virgin
foretold in the ancient prophecies, notably in those of Merlin ;
and the most exacting amongst them approved of the king's
having neither accepted or rejected, with levity, the promises
made by Joan; "after a grave inquiry there had been dis
covered in her," they said, "naught but goodness, humility,
devotion, honesty, simplicity. Before Orleans she professes
to be going to show her sign ; so she must be taken to Orleans,
for to give her up without any appearance on her part of evil
would be to fight against the Holy Spirit, and to become un
worthy of aid from God." After the doctor's examination
came that of the women. Three of the greatest ladies in
France, Yolande of Arragon, queen of Sicily ; the countess of
Gaucourt, wife of the governor of Orleans; and Joan de
Mortemer, wife of Robert le Magon, baron of Treves, were
charged to examine Joan as to her life as a woman. They
found therein nothing but truth, virtue, and modesty; "she
spoke to them with such sweetness and grace," says the
chronicle, uthat she drew tears from their eyes;" and she ex
cused herself to them for the dress she wore, and for which the
sternest doctors had not dreamed of reproaching her; " It is
more decent," said the archbishop of Etnbrun, " to do such
things in man's dress, since they must be done along with
men." The men of intelligence at court bowed down before

250 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxrr.

this village-saint, who was coming to bring to the king in his
peril assistance from God ; the most valiant men of war were
moved by the confident outbursts of her patriotic courage ; and
the people every where welcomed her with faith and enthusi
asm. Joan had as yet only just appeared, and already she
was the heaven-sent-interpretress of the nation's feeling, the
hope of the people of France.

Charles no longer hesitated. Joan was treated, according to
her own expression in her letter to the English, uas a war-
chief ;" there were assigned to her a squire, a page, two heralds,
a chaplain, Brother Pasquerel, of the order of the hermit-
brotherhood of St. Augustin, varlets, and serving-folks A
complete suit of armor was made to fit her. Her two guides,
John of Metz and Bertrand of Poulengy, had not quitted her;
and the king continued them in her train. Her sword he
wished to be supplied by himself ; she asked for one marked
with five crosses ; it would be found, she said, behind the altar
in the chapel of St. Catherine-de-Fierbois, where she had halted
on her arrival at Chinon; and there, indeed, it was found.
She had a white banner made, studded with lilies, bearing the
representation of God seated upon the clouds and holding in
His hand the globe of the world. Above were the words
" Jesu Maria," and below were two angels on their knees in
in adoration. Joan was fond of her sword, as she said two
years afterwards at her trial, but she was forty times more fond
of her banner, which was, in her eyes, the sign of her com
mission and the pledge of victory. On the completion of the
preparations she demanded the immediate departure of the
expedition. Orleans was crying for succor ; Dunios was send
ing messenger after messenger; and Joan was in a greater
hurry than any body else.

More than a month elapsed before her anxieties were satis
fied. During this interval we find Charles VII. and Joan of
Arc at Chatelherault, at Poitiers, at Tours, at Florent-les-
Saumur, at Chinon, and Blois, going to and fro through all
that country to push forward the expedition resolved upon,
and to remove the obstacles it encountered. Through a haze
of vague indications a glimpse is caught of the struggle which
was commencing between the partisans and the adversaries
of Joan of Arc, and in favor of or in opposition to the im
pulse she was communicating to the war of nationality.
Charles VII. 's mother-in-law, Yolande of Arragon, queen of
Sicily, and the young duke of Alencon, whose father had been

CH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 251

killed at the battle of Agincourt, were at the head of Joan's
partisans. Yolande gave money and took a great deal of
trouble in order to promote the expedition which was to go
and succor Orleans. The duke of Alengon, hardly twenty
years of age, was the only one amongst the princes of the
house of Valois who had given Joan a kind reception on her
arrival, and who, together with the brave La Hire, said that
he would follow her whithersoever she pleased to lead him.
Joan in her gratitude called him the handsome duke, and ex
hibited towards him amity and confidence.

But, side by side with these friends, she had an adversary
in the king's favorite, George de la Tremoille, an ambitious
courtier, jealous of any one who seemed within the range of
the king's favor, and opposed to a vigorous prosecution of the
war, since it hampered him in the policy he wished to keep up
toward the duke of Burgundy. To the ill-will of La Tre-
mouille was added that of the majority of courtiers enlisted
in the following of the powerful favorite and that of warriors
irritated at the importance acquired at their expense by a
rustic and fantastic little adventuress. Here was the source
of the enmities and intrigues which stood in the way of all
Joan's demands, rendered her successes more tardy, difficult,
and incomplete, and were one day to cost her more dearly
still.

At the end of about five weeks the expedition was in readi
ness. It was a heavy convoy of revictualment protected by a
body of ten or twelve thousand men commanded by marshal
de Boussac, and numbering amongst them Xaintrailles and
La Hire. The march began on the 27th of April, 1429. Joan
had caused the removal of all women of bad character, and
had recommended her comrades to confess. She took the
communion in the open air, before their eyes ; and a company
of priests, headed by her chaplain, Pasquerel, led the way
whilst chanting sacred hymns. Great was the surprise
amongst the men-at-arms. Many had words of mockery on
their lips. It was the time when La Hire used to say, "If
God were a soldier, He would turn robber." Nevertheless
respect got the better of habit; the most honorable were really
touched; the coarsest considered themselves bound to show
restraint. On the 29th of April they arrived before Orleans.
But, in consequence of the road they had followed, the Loire
was between the army and the town ; the expeditionary corps
had to be split in two ; the troops were obliged to go and feel

252 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xny.

for the bridge of Blois in order to cross the river; and Joan
was vexed and surprised. Dunois, arrived from Orleans in a
little boat, urged her to enter the town that same evening.
"Are you the bastard of Orleans?" asked she, when he ac
costed her. "Yes; and I am rejoiced at your coming."
"'Was it you who gave counsel for making me come hither by
this side of the river and not the direct way, over yonder
where Talbot and the English were?" "Yes; such was the
opinion of the wisest captains." "In the name of God, the
counsel of my Lord is wiser than yours ; you thought to de
ceive me, and you have deceived yourselves, for I am bringing
you the best succor that ever had knight, or town, or city,
and that is, the good will of God and succor from the King of
Heaven ; not assuredly for love of me, it is from God only that
it proceeds." It was a great trial for Joan to separate from
her comrades "so well prepared, penitent, and well-disposed;
in their company," said she, "I should not fear the whole
power of the English." She was afraid that disorder might
set in amongst the troops and that they might break up in
stead of fulfilling her mission. Dunois was urgent for her to
go herself at once into Orleans with such portion of the convoy
as boats might be able to transport thither without delay.
"Orleans," said he, "would count it for naught, if they re
ceived the victuals without the Maid." Joan decided to go;
the captains of her division promised to rejoin her at Orleans;
She left them her chaplain, Pasquerel, the priests who accom
panied him, and the banner around which she was accustomed
to muster them; and she herself, with Dunois, La Hire, and
two hundred men-at-arms, crossed the river at the same time
with a part of the supplies.

The same day, at eight p. M., she entered the city on horse
back, completely armed, preceded by her own banner and
having beside her Dunois, and behind her the captains of the
garrison and several of the most distinguished burgesses of
Orleans, who had gone out to meet her. The population, one
and all, rushed thronging round her, carrying torches, and
greeting her arrival ' ' with joy as great as if they had seen
God come down amongst them. They felt," says the Journal
of the Siege, "all of them recomforted and as it were dis-
besieged by the divine virtue which they had been told existed
in this simple maid." In their anxiety to approach her, to
touch her, one of their lighted torches set fire to her banner.
Joan disengaged herself with her horse as cleverly as it could

CH. EOT.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 253

have been done by the most skillful horseman, and herself
extinguished the flame. The crowd attended her to church
whither she desired to go first of all to render thanks to God,
and then to the house of John Boucher, the duke of Orleans'
treasurer, where she was received with her two brothers and
the two gentlemen who had been her guides from Van-
couleurs. The treasurer's wife was one of the most virtuous
city dames in Orleans, and from this night forth her daughter
Charlotte had Joan for her bedfellow. A splendid supper had
been prepared for her ; but she would merely dip some slices
of bread in wine and water. Neither her enthusiasm nor her
success, the two greatest tempters to pride in mankind, made
any change in her modesty and simplicity.

The very day after her arrival she would have liked to go
and attack the English in their bastillies, within which they
kept themselves shut up. La Hire was pretty much of her
opinion ; but Dunois and the captains of the garrison thought
they ought to await the coming of the troops which had gone
to cross the Loire at Blois, and the supports which several
French garrisons in the neighborhood had received orders to
forward to Orleans. Joan insisted. Sire de Gamaches, one
of the officers present, could not contain himself. " Since ear
is given," said he, "to the advice of a wench of low degree
rather than that of a knight like me, I will not bandy more
words ; when the time comes, it shall be my sword that will
speak ; I shall fall perhaps, but the king and my own honor
demand it ; henceforth I give up my banner and am nothing
more than a poor esquire. I prefer to have for master a noble
man rather than a girl who has heretofore been, perhaps, I
know not what." He furled his banner and handed it to
Dunois. Dunois, as sensible as he was brave, would not give
heed either to the choler of Gamaches or to the insistance of
Joan; and, thanks to his intervention, they were reconciled
on being induced to think better, respectively, of giving up
the banner and ordering an immediate attack. Dunois went
to Blois to hurry the movements of the division which had
repaired thither ; and his presence there was highly necessary,
since Joan's enemies, especially the chancellor Kegnault, were
nearly carrying a decision that no such reinforcement should
be sent to Orleans. Dunois frustrated this purpose, and led
back to Orleans, by way of Beauce, the troops concentrated at
Blois. On the 4th of May, as soon as it was known that he
coming, Joan, La Hire, and the principal leaders of the

254 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxnr.

city as well as of the garrison went to meet him and re-entered
Orleans with him and his troops, passing between the bastilles
of the English, who made not even an attempt to oppose them.
"That is the sorceress yonder, "said some of the besiegers ;
others asked if it were quite so clear that her power did not
come to her from on high ; and their commander, the earl of
Suffolk, being himself, perhaps, uncertain, did not like to risk
it : doubt produced terror, and terror inactivity. The convoy
from Blois entered Orleans, preceded by Brother Pasquerel and
the priests. Joan, whilst she was awaiting it, sent the English
captains a fresh summons to withdraw conformably with the
letter which she had already addressed to them from Blois, and
the principal clauses of which were just now quoted here.
They replied with coarse insults, calling her strumpet and cow
girl, and threatening to burn her when they caught her. She
was very much moved by their insults, in so much as to weep ;
but calling God to witness her innocence she found herself com
forted, and expressed it by saying, " I have had news from my
Lord. " The English had detained the first herald she had sent
them ; and when she would have sent them a second to de
mand his comrade back, he was afraid. ' ' In the name of God, "
said Joan, "they will do no harm nor to thee nor to him; thou
shalt tell Talbot to arm and I too will arm ; let him show him
self in front of the city ; if he can take me, let him burn me ; if
I discomfit him, let him raise the siege and let the English get
them gone to their own country. " The second herald appeared
to be far from reassured ; but Dunois charged him to say thaf
the English prisoners should answer for what was done to the
heralds from the Maid. The two heralds were sent back.
Joan made up her mind to iterate in person to the English the
warnings she had given them in her letter. She mounted upon
one of the bastions of Orleans, opposite the English bastille
called Tournelles, and there, at the top of her voice, she re
peated her counsel to them to be gone ; else, woe and shame
would come upon them. The commandant of the bastille, Sir
William Gladesdale [called by Joan and the French chroniclers
Glacidas], answered with the usual insults, telling her to go
back and mind her cows and alluding to the French as mis
creants. "You lie," cried Joan, "and in spite of you soon shall
ye depart hence ; many of your people shall be slam ; but as for
you, you shall not see it."

Dunois, the very day of his return to Orleans, after dinner,
went to call upon Joan, and told her that he had heard on his

OH. xxrr.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 255

way that Sir John Falstolf , the same who on the 12th of the
previous February had beaten the French in the Herring
affair, was about to arrive with reinforcements and supplies
for the besiegers. "Bastard, bastard," said Joan, "in the
name of God I command thee, as soon as thou shalt know of
this FascoVs coming, to have me warned of it, for, should he
pass without my knowing of it, I promise thee that I will have
thy head cut off." Dunois assured her that she should be
warned. Joan was tired with the day's excitement ; she threw
herself upon her bed to sleep, but unsuccessfully ; all at once
she said to sire Daulon, her esquire, " My counsel doth tell me
to go against the English; but I know not whether against
their bastilles or against this Fascot. I must arm." Her
esquire was beginning to arm her when she heard it shouted
in the street that the enemy were at that moment doing great
damage to the French. "My God, "said she, "the blood of
our people is running on the ground ; why was I not awakened
sooner? Ah! it was ill done! . . . My arms! My arms I my
horse !" Leaving behind her esquire, who was not yet armed,
she went down. Her page was playing at the door; "Ah!
naughty boy," said she, "not to come and tell me that the
blood of France was being shed ! Come ! quick ! my horse !" It
was brought to her ; she bade them hand down to her by the
window her banner, which she had left behind, and, without
any further waiting, she departed and went to the Burgundy
gate whence the noise seemed to come. Seeing on her way one
of the townsmen passing who was being carried off wounded,
she said, " Alas! I never see a Frenchman's blood but my hair
stands up on my head !" It was some of the Orleannese them
selves who, without consulting their chiefs, had made a sortie
and attacked the bastille St. Loup, the strongest held by the
English on this side. The French had been repulsed, and were
falling back in flight when Joan came up, and soon after her
Dunois and a throng of men-at-arms who had been warned of
the danger. The fugitives returned to the assault ; the battle
was renewed with ardor; the bastille of St. Loup, notwith
standing energetic resistance on the part of the Fnglish who
manned it, was taken ; and all its defenders were put to the
sword before Talbot and the main body of the besiegers could
come up to their assistance. Joan showed sorrow that so many
people should have died unconf essed ; and she herself was the
means of saving some who had disguised themselves as priests
in gowns which they had taken from the church of St. Loup.

256 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. XXIT.

Great -was the joy in Orleans, and the enthusiasm for Joan was
more lively than ever. "Her voices had warned her, "they
said, " and apprised her that there was a battle; and then she
had found by herself alone and without any guide the way to
the Burgundy gate." Men-at-arms and burgesses all demanded
that the attack upon the English bastilles should be resumed ;
but the next day, the 5th of May, was Ascension-day. Joan
advocated pious repose on this holy festival, and the general
feeling was in accord with her own. She recommended her
comrades to fulfil their religious duties and she herself received
the communion. The chiefs of the besieged resolved to begin
on the morrow a combined attack upon the English bastilles
which surrounded the place ; but Joan was not in their coun
sels. " Tell me what you have resolved," said she to them; " I
can keep this and greater secrets." Dunois made her ac
quainted with the plan adopted, of which she fully approved ;
and on the morrow, the 6th of May, a fierce struggle began
again all round Orleans. For two days the bastilles erected by
the besiegers against the place were repeatedly attacked by the
besieged. On the first day Joan was slightly wounded in the
foot. Some disagreement arose between her and sire de Gau-
court, governor of Orleans, as to continuing the struggle; and
John Boucher, her host, tried to keep her back the second day.
" Stay and dine with us," said he, "to eat that shad which
has just been brought." "Keep it for supper," said Joan;
"I will come back this evening and bring you some goddam
(Englishman) or other to eat his share ;" and she sallied forth,
eager to return to the assault. On arriving at the Burgundy
gate she found it closed ; the governor would not allow any
sortie thereby to attack on that side. "Ah! naughty man,1*
said Joan, " you are wrong; whether you will or no, our men-
at-arms shall go and win on this day as they havo already
won." The gate was forced; and men-at-arms and burgesses
•rushed out from all quarters to attack the bastilles of Tour-
nelles, the strongest of the English works. II was ten o'clock
in the morning; the passive and active powers of both parties
were concentrated on this point ; and for a moment the French
appeared weary and downcast. Joan took a scaling-ladder, set
it against the rampart, and was the first to mount. There
came an arrow and struck her between neck and shoulder, and
she fell. Sire de Gamaches, who had but lately displayed so
much temper towards her, found her where she lay. " Take
my horse," said he, "and bear no malice: I was wrong; I had

CH. xxiv.j THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 257

formed a false idea of you." " Yes," said Joan, " and bear no
malice: I never saw a more accomplished knight." She was
taken away and had her armor removed. The arrow, it is
said, stood out almost half-a-foot behind. There was an in
stant of faintness and tears; but she prayed and felt her
strength renewed, and pulled out the arrow with her own
hand. Some one proposed to her to charm the wound by
means of cabalistic words; but "I would rather die," she said,
" than so sin against the will of God. I know full well that I
must die some day ; but I know nor where nor when nor how.
If, without sin, my wound may be healed, I am right willing."
A dressing of oil and lard was applied to the wound ; and she
retired apart into a vineyard and was continually in prayer.
Fatigue and discouragement were overcoming the French;
and the captains ordered the retreat to be sounded. Joan
begged Dunois to wait a while. "My God," said she, "we
shall soon be inside. Give your people a little rest ; eat and
drink." She resumed her arms and remounted her horse; her
banner floated in the air ; the French took fresh courage ; the
English, who thought Joan half dead, were seized with surprise
and fear; and one of their principal leaders, Sir William
Gladesdale, made up his mind to abandon the outwork which
he had hitherto so well kept, and retired within the bastille
itself. Joan perceived his movement. "Yield thee," she
shouted to him from afar; " yield thee to the King of Heaven!
Ah 1 Glacidas, thou hast basely insulted me ; but I have great
pity on the souls of thee and thine." The Englishman con
tinued his retreat. Whilst he was passing over the drawbridge
which reached from the outwork to the bastille, a shot from
the side of Orleans broke down the bridge; Gladesdale fell
into the water and was drowned, together with many of his
comrades ; the French got into the bastille without any fresh
fighting; and Joan re-entered Orleans amidst the joy and ac
clamations of the people. The bells rang all through the night ;
and the Te Deum was chanted. The day of combat was about
to be succeeded by the day of deliverance.

On the morrow, the 8th of May, 1429, at day-break, the
English leaders drew up their troops close to the very moats
of the city and seemed to offer battle to the French. Many of
the Orleannese leaders would have liked to accept this chal
lenge; bnt Joan got up from her bed where she was resting
because of her wound, put on a light suit of armor and ran to
the city-gates. "For the love and honor of holy Sunday, n

258 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH.

said she to the assembled warriors, "do not be the first to
attack and make to them no demand ; it is God's good will and
pleasure that they be allowed to get them gone if they be
minded to go away; if they attack you, defend yourselves
boldly; you will be the masters." She caused an altar to be
raised; thanksgivings were sung and mass was celebrated.
"See," said Joan, " are the English turning to you their faces
or verily their backs?" They had commenced their retreat in
good order with standards flying. " Let them go: my Lord
willeth not that there be any fighting to-day ; you shall have
them another time." The good words spoken by Joan were
not so preventive but that many men set off to pursue the
English and cut off stragglers and baggage. Their bastilles
were found to be full of victuals and munitions ; and they had
abandoned their sick and many of their prisoners. The siege
of Orleans was raised.

The day but one after this deliverance Joan set out to go
and rejoin the king and prosecute her work at his side. She
fell in with him on th 13th of May, at Tours, moved forward
to meet him, with her banner in her hand and her head un
covered, and bending down over her charger's neck, made him
a deep obeisance. Charles took off his cap, held out his hand
to her, and "as it seemed to many," says a contemporary
chronicler, uhe would fain have kissed her, for the joy that
he felt." But the king's joy was not enough for Joan. She
urged him to march with her against enemies who were fly
ing, so to speak, from themselves, and to start without delay
for Rheims, where he would be crowned. "I shall hardly
last more than a year," said she; "we must think about
working right well this year, for there is much to do." Hesi
tation was natural to Charles, even in the hour of victory.
His favorite, La Tremoille, and his chancellor, the arcnoishop
of Rheims, opposed Joan's entreaties with all the objections
that could be devised under the inspiration of their ifl- will:
there were neither troops nor money in hand for so great a
journey ; and council after council was held for the purpose of
doing nothing. Joan in her impatience went one day to
Loches, without previous notice, and tapped softly at the door
of the king's privy chamber (chambre de retraif). He bade
her enter. She fell upon her knees, saying, " Gentle dauphin,
hold not so many and such long councils, but rather come to
Rheims and there assume your crown ; I am much pncked to
take you thither." "Joan," said the bishop of Castres. Chris-

CH. xxiv. ] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 259

topher d'Harcourt, the king's confessor, "cannot you tell the
king what pricketh you?" "Ah! I see," replied Joan with
some embarrassment: "well, I will tell you. I had sent me
to prayer according to my wont, and I was making complaint
for that you would not believe what I said; then the voice
came and said unto me, 'Go, go, my daughter; I will be a
help to thee; go.' When this voice comes to me, I felt mar
vellously rejoiced; I would that it might endure for ever"
She was eager and overcome.

Joan and her voices were not alone in urging the king to
shake off his doubts and his indolence. In church and court
and army allies were not wanting to the pious and vah'ant
maid. In a written document dated the 14th of May, six days
after the siege of Orleans was raised, the most Christian doc
tor of the age, as Gerson was called, sifted the question
whether it were possible, whether it were a duty to believe in
fche Maid. "Even if (which God forbid)," said he, "she
should be mistaken in her hope and ours, it would not neces
sarily follow that what she does comes of the evil spirit and
not of God, but that rather our ingratitude was to blame.
Let the party which hath a just cause take care how, by in
credulity or injustice, it rendereth useless the divine succor so
miraculously manifested, for God, without any change of
counsel, changeth the upshot according to deserts." Great
lords and simple gentlemen, old and young warriors, were
eager to go and join Joan for the salvation of the king and of
Prance. The constable, De Richemont, banished from the
court through the jealous hatred of George la Tremoille, made
a pressing application there, followed by a body of men at-
arms; and, when the king refused to see him, he resolved,
though continuing in disgrace, to take an active part in the
war. The young duke of Alengon, who had been a prisoner
with the English since the battle of Agincourt, hurried on the
payment of his ransom in order to accompany Joan as lieu
tenant-general of the king in the little army which was form
ing. His wife, the duchess, was in grief about it. " We have
just spent great sums," said she, "in buying him back from
the English; if he would take my advice, he would stay at
home." "Madame," said Joan, "I will bring him back to
you safe and sound, nay even in better contentment than at
present; be not afraid." And on this promise the duchess
took heart. Du Guesclin's widow, Joan de Laval, was still
living; and she had two grandsons, Guy and Andrew de

260 HISTORY OP FRANCE. [CH. XXIY.

Laval, who were amongst the most zealous of those taking
service in the army destined to march on Eheims. The king
to all appearance desired to keep them near his person. "God
forbid that I should do so," wrote Guy de Laval, on the 8th of
June, 1429, to those most dread dames, his grandmother and
his mother; "my brother says, as also my lord the duke
d'Alengon, that a good riddance of bad rubbish would he be
who should stay at home." And he describes his first inter
view with the Maid as follows. "The king had sent for her to
come and meet him at Selles-en-Berry. Some say that it was
for my sake, in order that I might see her. She gave right
good cheer (a kind reception) to my brother and myself; and
after we had dismounted at Selles I went to see her in her
quarters. She ordered wine, and told me that she would soon
have me drinking some at Paris. It seems a thing divine to
look on her and listen to her. I saw her mount on horseback,
armed all in white armor, save her head, and with a little axe
in her hand, on a great black charger, which, at the door of
her quarters was very restive and would not let her mount.
Then said she, * Lead him to the cross,' which was in front of
the neighboring church, on the road. There she mounted him
without his moving, and as if he were tied up ; and turning
towards the door of the church, which was very nigh at hand,
she said, in quite a womanly voice, * You priests and church
men, make procession and prayers to God.' Then she resumed
her road, saying, 'Pu^h forward, push forward.' She told
me that three days before my arrival she had sent you, dear
grandmother, a little golden ring, but that it was a very small
matter and she would have liked to send you something better,
having regard to your estimation."

It was amidst this burst of patriotism and with all these
valiant comrades that Joan recommenced the campaign on the
10th of June, 1429, quite resolved to bring the king to Eheims.
To complete the deliverance of Orleans an attack was begun
upon the neighboring places, Jargeau, Meung, and Beaugency.
Before Jargeau, on the 12th of June, although it was Sunday,
Joan had the trumpets sounded for the assault. The duke
d'Alencpn thought it was too soon. "Ah!" said Joan, "be
not doubtful, it is the hour pleasing to God; work ye and Go<J
will work;" and she added familiarly, " Art thou af eared, gen
tle duke? Knowest thou not that I have promised thy wife to
take thee back safe and sound?" The assault began ; and Joan
soon had occasion to keep her promise. The duke d'Alengon

SH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 261

was watching the assault from an exposed spot, and Joan re
marked a piece pointed at this spot. "Get you hence, "said
she to the duke; "yonder is a piece which will slay you.'1
The duke moved, and a moment afterwards sire de Lude was
killed at the self-same place by a shot from the said piece.
Jargeau was taken. Before Beaugency a serious incident
took place. The constable De Kichemont came up with a
force of 1200 men. When he was crossing to Loudun, Charles
VII. , swayed as ever by the jealous La Tremoille, had word
sent to him to withdraw, and that if he advanced he would
be attacked. "What am I doing in the matter," said the con
stable, "it is for the good of the king and the realm; if any
body comes to attack me, we shall see." When he had joined
the army before Beaugency, the duke d'Alengon was much
troubled. The king's orders were precise, and Joan herself
hesitated. But news came that Talbot and the English were
approaching. "Now," said Joan, " we must think no more of
any thing but helping one another." She rode forward to meet
the constable, and saluted him courteously. "Joan," said he,
"I was told that you meant to attack me; I know not whether
you come from God or not ; if you are from God, I fear you not
at all, for God knows my good will ; if you are from the devil,
I fear you still less." He remained, and Beaugency was taken.
The English army came up. Sir John Falstolf had joined
Talbot. Some disquietude showed itself amongst the French,
so roughly handled for some time past in pitched battles. ' ' Ah I
fair constable," said Joan to Richemont, " you are not come by
my orders, but you are right welcome." The duke d'Alengon
consulted Joan as to what was to be done. "It will be well to
have horses," was suggested by those about her. She asked
her neighbors, "Have you good spurs?" "Ha!" cried they,
"must we fly then?" "No, surely," replied Joan: "but there
will be need to ride boldly ; we shall give a good account of the
English, and our spurs will serve us famously in pursuing
them. " The battle began on the 18th of June at Patay , between
Orleans and Chateaudun. By Joan's advice the French at
tacked. "In the name of God," said she, "we must fight.
Though the English were suspended from the clouds, we should
have them, for God hath sent us to punish them. The gentle
king shall have to-day the greatest victory he has ever had;
my counsel hath told me they are ours." The English lost
heart in their turn ; the battle was short and the victory bril
liant; Lord Talbot and the most part of the English captains

262 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxrr.

remained prisoners. "Lord Talbot," said the duke d'Alenc/m
to him ; " this is not what you expected this morning." " It is
the fortune of war," answered Talbot, with the cool dignity of
an old warrior. Joan's immediate return to Orleans was a tri
umph ; but even triumph has its embarrassments and perils.
She demanded the speedy march of the army upon Rheims,
that the king might be crowned there without delay ; but ob
jections were raised on all sides, the objections of the timid and
those of the jealous. " By reason of Joan the Maid, "says a
contemporary chronicler, "so many folks came from all parts
unto the king for to serve him at their own expense, that La
Tremoille and others of the council were much wroth thereat
through anxiety for their own persons." Joan, impatient and
irritated at so much hesitation and intrigue, took upon herself
to act as if the decision belonged to her. On the 25th of June
she wrote to the inhabitants of Tournai: "Loyal Frenchmen,
I do pray and require you to be all ready to come to the conx
nation of the gentle King Charles, at Rheims, where we shall
shortly be, and to come and meet us when ye shall learn that
we are approaching." Two days afterwards, on the 27th of
June, she left Gien, where the court was, and went to take up
her quarters in the open country with the troops. There was
nothing for it but to follow her. On the 29th of June, the king,
the court (including La Tremoille), and the army, about 12,000
strong, set out on the march for Rheims. Other obstacles were
encountered on the road. In most of the towns the inhabitants,
even the royalists, feared to compromise themselves by openly
pronouncing against the English and the duke of Burgundy.
Those of Auxerre demanded a truce, offering provisions, and
promising to do as those of Troyes, Chalons, and Rheims should
do. At Troyes the difficulty was greater still. There was in it
a garrison of five or six hundred English and Burgundians who
had the burgesses under their thumbs. All attempts at accom
modation failed. There was great perplexity in the royal camp?
there were neither provisions enough for a long stay before
Troyes, nor batteries and siege-trains to carry it by force.
There was talk of turning back. One of the king's councillors,
Robert le Macon, proposed that Joan should be summoned to
the council. It was at her instance that the expedition had
been undertaken ; she had great influence amongst the army
and the populace ; the idea ought not to be given up without
consulting her. Whilst he was speaking, Joan came knocking
at the door; she was told to come in; and the chancellor, the

OH. xxrv.] THE HUNDRED TEARS1 WAR. 263

archbishop of Bheims, put the question to her. Joan, turning
to the king, asked him if he would believe her. " Speak, " said
the king, "if you say what is reasonable and tends to profit,
readily will you be believed." " Gentle king of France," said
Joan, "if you be willing to abide here before your town of
Eroyes, it shall be at your disposal within two days, by love or
by force; make no doubt of it." "Joan," replied the chancel
lor, " whoever could be certain of having it within six days
might well wait for it ; but say you true ?" Joan repeated her
assertion; and it was decided to wait. Joan mounted her
horse, and, with her banner in her hand, she went through the
camp, giving orders every where to prepare for the assault.
She had her own tent pitched close to the ditch, " doing more,"
says a contemporary, "than two of the ablest captains would
have done." On the next day, July 10th, all was ready. Joan
had the fascines thrown into the ditches and was shouting out
"Assault!" when the inhabitants of Troyes, burgesses, and
men-at-arms, came demanding permission to capitulate. The
conditions were easy. The inhabitants obtained for themselves
and their property such guarantees as they desired ; and the
strangers were allowed to go out with what beionged to them.
On the morrow, July llth, the king entered Troyes with all his
captains, and at his side the Maid carrying her banner. All the
difficulties of the journey were surmounted. On the 15th of
July the bishop of Chalons brought the keys of his town to the
king, who took up his quarters there. Joan found there four
or five of her own villagers who had hastened up to see the
young girl of Domremy in all her glory. She received them
with a satisfaction in which familiarity was blended with grav
ity. To one of them, her godfather, she gave a red cap which
she had worn; to another, who had been a Burgundian, she/
said, "I fear but one thing— treachery." In the duke d'Alen-i
con's presence she repeated to the king, " Make good use of my
time, for I shall hardly last longer than a year." On the 16th
of July Bang Charles entered Bheims, and the ceremony of his
coronation was fixed for the morrow.

It was solemn and emotional as are all old national traditions
which recur after a forced suspension. Joan rode between
Dunois and the archbishop of Rheims, chancellor of France.
The air resounded with the Te Deum sung with all their hearts
by clergy and crowd. "In God's name," said Joan to Dunois,
"here is a good people and a devout; when I die, I should
much like it to be in these parts." "Joan," inquired Dunois,

*§ VOL. 2

264 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH. xxi*

"know you when you will die and in what place?" " I know
not," said she, " for I am at the will of God." Then she added,
" I have accomplished that which my Lord commanded me, to
raise the siege of Orleans and have the gentle king crowned.
I would like it well if it should please Him to send me back to
my father and mother, to keep their sheep and their cattle and
do that which was my wont." "When the said lords," says
the chronicler, an eye-witness, "heard these words of Joan
who, with eyes towards heaven, gave thanks to God, they the
more believed that it was somewhat sent from God and not
otherwise. "

Historians and even contemporaries have given much dis
cussion to the question whether Joan of Arc, according to her
first ideas, had really limited her design to the raising of the
siege of Orleans and the coronation of Charles VII. at Rheims.
She had said so herself several times, just as she had to Dunois
at Rheims on the 17th of July, 1429 ; but she sometimes also
spoke of more vast and varied projects, as, for instance, driv
ing the English completely out of France and withdrawing
from his long captivity Charles, duke of Orleans. He had been
a prisoner in London ever since the battle of Agincourt, and
was popular in his day, as he has continued to be in French
history, on the double ground of having been the father of
Louis XII. and one of the most charming poets in the ancient
literature of Franee. The duke d'Alengon, who was so high in
the regard of Joan, attributed to her more expressly this quad
ruple design: "She said," according to him, "that she had
four duties ; to get rid of the English, to have the king anointed
and crowned, to deliver Duke Charles of Orleans, and to raise
the siege laid by the English to Orleans." One is inclined to
believe that Joan's language to Dunois at Rheims in the hour
of Charles VII. 's coronation more accurately expressed her
first idea ; the two other notions occurred to her naturally in
proportion as her hopes as well as her power kept growing
greater with success. But however lofty and daring her soul
may have been, she had a simple and not at all a fantastic
mind. She may have foreseen the complete expulsion of the
English, and may have desired the deliverance of the duke of
Orleans, without having in the first instance premeditated any
thing more than she said to Dunois during the king's corona
tion at Rheims, which was looked upon by her as the triumph
of the national cause.

However that may be, when Orleans was relieved and Charles

OH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 265

VII. crowned, the situation, posture, and part of Joan under
went a change. She no longer manifested the same confidence
in herself and her designs. She no longer exercised over those
in whose midst she lived the same authority. She continued
to carry on war, but at hap-hazard, sometimes with and some
times without success, just like La Hire and Dunois; never
discouraged, never satisfied, and never looking upon herself as
triumphant. After the coronation, her advice was to march
at once upon Paris, in order to take up a fixed position in it,
as being the political centre of the realm of which Kheims was
the religious. Nothing of the sort was done. Charles and
La Tremoille once more began their course of hesitation,
tergiversation, and changes of tactics and residence without
doing any thing of a public and decisive character. They
negotiated with the duke of Burgundy in the hope of detach
ing him from the English cause; and they even concluded
with him a secret, local, and temporary truce. From the 20th
of July to the 23 of August Joan followed the king whitherso
ever he went, to Chateau-Thierry, to Senlis, to Blois, to
Provins, and to Compiegne, as devoted as ever but without
having her former power. She was still active, but not from
inspiration and to obey her voices, simply to promote the
royal policy. She wrote the duke of Burgundy a letter full of
dignity and patriotism, which had no more effect than the
negotiations of La Tremoille. During this fruitless labor
amongst the French the duke of Bedford sent for 5000 men
from England, who came and settled themselves at Paris.
One division of this army had a white standard, in the middle
of which was depicted a distaff full of cotton; a half -filled
spindle was hanging to the distaff, and the field studded with
empty spindles bore this inscription, " Now, fair one, cornel"
Insult to Joan was accompanied by redoubled war against
France. Joan, saddened and wearied by the position of things,
attempted to escape from it by a bold stroke. On the 23rd of
August, 1429, she set out from Compiegne with the duke of
d'Alengon and "a fair company of men-at-arms;" and sud
denly went and occupied St. Denis, with the view of attacking
Paris. Charles VII. felt himself obliged to quit Compiegne
likewise, "and went, greatly against the grain," says a con
temporary chronicler, * ' as far as into the town of Senlis. " The
attack on Paris began vigorously. Joan, with the duke of
d' Aelngon, pitched her camp at La Chapelle. Charles took
up his abode in the abbey of St. Denis. The municipal corpo-

266 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxir.

ration of Paris received letters with the arms of the duke
d'Alengon which called upon them to recognize the king's
authority and promised a general amnesty. The assault was
delivered on the 8th of September. Joan was severely
wounded, but she insisted upon remaining where she was.
Night came, and the troops had not entered the breach which
bad been opened in the morning. Joan was still calling out to
persevere. The duke d'Alengon himself begged her, but in
vain, to retire. La Tremoille gave orders to retreat ; and some
knights came up, set Joan on horseback and led her back,
against her will, to La Chapelle. "By my martin" (staff of
command) said she, ' * the place would have been taken. " One
hope still remained. In concert with the duke of d'Alengon
she had caused a flying bridge to be thrown across the Seine
opposite St. Denis. The next day but one she sent her
vanguard in this direction ; she intended to return thereby to
the siege; but, by the king's order, the bridge had been cut
adrift. St. Denis fell once more into the hands of the English.
Before leaving Joan left there, on the tomb of St. Denis, her
complete suit of armor and a sword she had lately obtained
possession of at the St. Honore gate of Paris, as a trophy of
war.

From the 13th of September, 1429, to the 24th of May, 1430,
she continued to lead the same life of efforts ever equally
valiant and equally ineffectual. She failed in an attempt upon
La Charite sur-Loire, undertaken, for all that appears, with
the sole design of recovering an important town in the posse-
sion of the enemy. The English evacuated Paris and left the
keeping of it to the duke of Burgundy, no doubt to test his
fidelity. On the 15th of April, 1430, at the expiration of the
truce he had concluded, Philip the Good had resumnd hostilities
against Charles VII. Joan of Arc once more plunged into
them with her wonted zeal. He- de-France and Picardy became
the theatre of war. Compiegne was regarded as the gate of
the road between these two provinces ; and the duke of Bur
gundy attached much importance to holding the key of it. The
authority of Charles VII. was recognized there ; and a young
knight of Compiegne, William de Flavy, held the command
there as lieutenant of La Tremoille, who had got himself ap
pointed captain of the town. La Tremoille attempted to treat
with the duke of Burgundy for the cession of Compiegne ; but
the inhabitants were strenuously opposed to it. " They were,"
they said, " the king's most humble subjects, and they desired

CH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 267

to serve him with body and substance; but as for trusting
themselves to the lord duke of Burgundy, they could not do it ;
they were resolved to suffer destruction, themselves and their
wives and their children, rather than be exposed to the tender
mercies of the said duke." Meanwhile Joan of Arc, after
several warlike expeditions in the neighborhood, re-entered
Compiegne, and was received there with a popular expression
of satisfaction. " She was presented," says a local chronicler,
4 'Three hogsheads of wine, a present which was large and ex
ceedingly costly, and which showed the estimate formed of
this maiden's worth." Joan manifested the profound distrust
with which she was inspired of the duke of Burgundy. " There
is no peace possible with him," she said, " save at the point of
the lance." She had quarters at the house of the king's attor
ney, Le Boucher, and shared the bed of his wife Mary. " She
often made the said Mary rise from her bed to go and warn the
said attorney to be on his guard against several acts of Bur-
gtmdian treachery." At this period, again, she said, she was
often warned by her voices of what must happen to her; she
expected to be taken prisoner before St. John's or Midsummer
day (June 24) ; on what day and hour she did not know ; she
had received no instructions as to sorties from the place ; but
she had constantly been told that she would be taken, and she
was distrustful of the captains who were in command there.
She was, nevertheless, not the less bold and enterprising. On
the 20th of May, 1430, the duke of Burgundy came and laid
siege to Compiegne. Joan was away on an expedition to
Crepy in Valois with a small band of three or four hundred
brave comrades. On the 24th of May, the eve of Ascension-
day, she learned that Compiegne was being besieged, and she
resolved to re-enter it. She was reminded that her force was
a very weak one to cut its way through the besieger's camp.
" By my martin," said she, u we are enough; I will go see my
friends in Compiegne." She arrived about day -break without
hindrance and penetrated into the town ; and repaired immedi
ately to the parish church of St. Jacques to perform her de
votions on the eve of so great a festival. Many persons at
tracted by her presence, and amongst others " from a hundred
to six score children," thronged to the church. After hearing
mass and herself taking the communion Joan said to those who
surrounded her, "My children and dear friends, I notify you
that I am sold and betrayed, and that I shall shortly be de»
livered over to death; I beseech you, pray God for me."

268 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxrr.

When evening came she was not the less eager to take part in
a sortie with her usual comrades and a troop of about five
hundred men. William de Flavy, commandant of the place,
got ready some boats on the Oise to assist the return of the
troops. All the town gates were closed, save the bridge-gate.
The sortie was unsuccessful. Being severely repulsed and all
but hemmed in, the majority of the soldiers shouted to Joan,
" try to quickly regain the town or we are lost." "Silence,"
said Joan: " it only rests with you to throw the enemy into
confusion: think only of striking at them." Her words and
her bravery were in vain; the infantry flung themselves into
the boats and regained the town, and Joan and her brave com
rades covered their retreat. The Burgundians were coming
up in mass upon Compiegne, and Flavy gave orders to pull up
the drawbridge and let down the portcullis. Joan and some of
her following lingered, outside still fighting. She wore a rich
surcoat and a red sash, and all the efforts of the Burgundians
were directed against her. Twenty men thronged round her
horse ; and a picard archer, " a. tough fellow and mighty sour,"
seized her by her dress and flung her on the ground. All, at
once, called on her to surrender. ' ' Yield you to me, " said one of
them, " pledge your faith to me; lam a gentleman." It was
an archer of the bastard of Wandonne, one of the lieuten
ants of John of Luxembourg, count of Ligny. " I have
pledged my faith to one other than you," said Joan, " and to
him I will keep my oath." The archer took her and conducted
her to Count John, whose prisoner she became.

Was she betrayed and delivered up as she had predicted?
Did William de Flavy purposely have the drawbridge raised
and the portcullis lowered before she could get back into Com
piegne? He was suspected of it at the time, and many histo
rians have indorsed the suspicion. But there is nothing to
prove it. That La Tremoille, prime minister of Charles VII. ,
and Eeginald de Chartres, archbishop of Rheims, had an anti
pathy to Joan of Arc, and did all they could on every occasion
to compromise her and destroy her influence, and that they
were glad to see her a prisoner is as certain as any thing can
be. On announcing her capture to the inhabitants of Rheims,
the archbishop said, " She would not listen to counsel and did
every thing according to her pleasure." But there is a long
distance between such expressions and a premeditated plot to
deliver to the enemy the young heroine who had just raised
the siege of Orleans and brought the king to be crowned at

CH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 269

Rheims. History must not, without proof, impute crimes so
odious and so shameful to even the most depraved of men.

However that may be, Joan remained for six months the
prisoner of John of Luxembourg, who, to make his possession
of her secure, sent her, under good escort, successively to his
two castles of Beaulieu and Beaurevoir, one in the Vermandois
and the other in the Cambresis. Twice, in July and in October,
1430, Joan attempted, unsuccessfully, to escape. The second
time she carried despair and hardihood so far as to throw her
self down from the platform of her prison. She was picked up
cruelly bruised, but without any fracture or wound of impor
tance. Her fame, her youth, her virtue, her courage, made
her, even in her prison and in the very family of her custodian,
two warm and powerful friends. John of Luxembourg had
with him his wife, Joan of Bethune, and his aunt, Joan of
Luxembourg, godmother of Charles VII. They both of them
took a tender interest in the prisoner ; and they often went to
see her and left nothing undone to mitigate the annoyances of a
prison. One thing only shocked them about her, her man's
clothes. "They offered her," as Joan herself said> when
questioned upon this subject at a later period during her trial,
" a woman's dress or stuff to make it to her liking, and re
quested her to wear it ; but she answered that she had not leave
from our Lord, and that it was not yet time for it." John of
Luxembourg's aunt was full of years and reverenced as a saint.
Hearing that the English were tempting her nephew by the
offer of a sum of money to give up his prisoner to them, she
conjured him in her will, dated September 10th, 1430, not to
sully by such an act the honor of his name. But Count John
was neither rich nor scrupulous : and pretexts were not want
ing to aid his cupidity and his weakness. Joan had been taken
at Compiegne on the 23rd of May, in the evening; and the
news arrived in Paris on the 25th of May, in the morning. On
the morrow, the 26th, the registrar of the University, in the
name and under the seal of the inquisition of France, wrote a
citation to the duke of Burgundy "to the end that the Maid
should be delivered up to appear before the said inquisitor, and
to respond to the good counsel, favor, and aid of the good doc
tors and masters of tha University of Paris." Peter Cauchon,
bishop of Beauvais, had been the prime mover in this step.
Some weeks later, on the 14th of July, seeing that no reply
arrived from the duke of Burgundy, he caused a renewal of the
same demands to be made on the part of the University in

270 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [en, my.

more urgent terms, and he added, in his own name, that Joan,
having been taken at Compiegne, in his own diocese, belonged
to him as judge spiritual. He further asserted "that accord
ing to the law, usage, and custom of France, every prisoner of
war, even were it king, dauphin, or other prince, might be re
deemed in the name of the king of England in consideration of
an indemnity of ten thousand livres granted to the capturer."
Nothing was more opposed to the common law of nations and
to the feudal spirit, often grasping, but noble at bottom. For
four months still, John of Luxembourg hesitated ; but his aunt,
Joan, died at Boulogne, on the 13th of November, and Joan of
Arc had no longer near him this powerful intercessor. The
king of England transmitted to the keeping of his coffers at
Eouen, in golden coin, English money, the sum of ten thousand
livres. John of Luxembourg yielded to the temptation. On
the 21st of November, 1430, Joan of Arc was handed over to
the king of England, and the same day the University of Paris,
through its rector, Hebert, besought that sovereign, as king of
France, ' ' to order that this woman be brought to their city for
to be shortly placed in the hands of the justice of the Church,
that is, of our honored lord, the bishop and count of Beauvais,
and also of the ordained inquisitor in France, in order that her
trial may be conducted officially and securely."

It was not to Paris but to Eouen, the real capital of the
English in France, that Joan was taken. She arrived there on
the 23rd of December, 1430. On the 3rd of January, 1431, an
order from Henry VI., king of England, placed her in the hands
of the bishop of Beauvais, Peter Cauchon. Some days after
wards, Count John of Luxembourg, accompanied by his
brother, the English chancellor, by his esquire, and by two
English lords, Richard Beauchamp, earl of Warwick, and
Humphrey, earl of Stafford, the king of England's constable in
France, entered the prison. Had John of Luxembourg come
out of sheer curiosity or to relieve himself of certain scruples
by offering Joan a chance for her life? " Joan," said he, "I
am come hither to put you to ransom and to treat for the price
of your deliverance ; only give us your promise here to no more
bear arms against us." "In God's name," answered Joan,
" are you making a mock of me, captain? Ransom mel You
have neither the will nor the power; no, you have neither."
The count persisted. "I know well," said Joan, "that these
English will put me to death ; but were they a hundred thou
sand more Goddama than have already been in France, they
shall never have the kingdom."

CH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 271

At this patriotic burst on the heroine's part, the earl of Staf«
ford half drew his dagger from the sheath as if to strike Joan,
but the earl of Warwick held him back. The visitors went out
from the prison and handed over Joan to the judges.

The court of Rouen was promptly formed, but not without
opposition and difficulty. Though Joan had lost somewhat of
her greatness and importance by going beyond her main object
and by showing recklessness, unattended by success, on small
occasions, she still remained the true, heroic representative of
the feelings and wishes of the nation. When she was removed
from Beaurevoir to Rouen, all the places at which she stopped
were like so many luminous points for the illustration of her
popularity. At Arras, a Scot showed her a portrait of her
which he wore, an outward sign of the devoted worship of her
lieges. At Amiens, the chancellor of the cathedral gave her
audience at confession and administered to her the eucharist.
At Abbeville, ladies of distinction went five leagues to pay her
a visit ; they were glad to have had the happiness of seeing her
so firm and resigned to the will of Our Lord ; they wished her
all the favors of heaven, and they wept affectionately on taking
leave of her. Joan, touched by their sympathy and open-
heartedness, said, "Ah! what a good people is this! Would
to God I might be so happy, when my days are ended, as to be
buried in these parts !"

When the bishop of Beauvais, installed at Rouen, set about
forming his court of justice, the majority of the members he
appointed amongst the clergy or the University of Paris obeyed
the summons without hesitation. Some few would have re
fused; but their wishes were over-ruled. The abbot of Ju-
mieges, Nicholas de Houppeville, maintained that the trial
was not legal. The bishop of Beauvais, he said, belonged to the
party which declared itself hostile to the Maid ; and, besides,
he made himself judge in a case already decided by his metro
politan, the archbishop of Rheims, of whom Beauvais was
holden, and who had approved of Joan's conduct. The bishop
summoned before him the recalcitrant, who refused to appear,
saying that he was under no official jurisdiction but that of
Rouen. He was arrested and thrown into prison, by order of
the bishop, whose authority he denied. There was some talk
of banishing him and even of throwing him into the river ; but
the influence of his brethren saved him. The sub-inquisitor
himself allowed the trial in which he was to be one of the
judges to begin without him-, and he only put in an appearance

272 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. XXIT.

at the express order of the inquisitor-general and on a confi
dential hint that he would be in danger of his life if he per
sisted in his refusal. The court being thus constituted, Joan,
after it had been put in possession of the evidence already col
lected, was cited, on the 20th of February, 1431, to appear on
the morrow, the 21st, before her judges assembled in the chapel
of Rouen Castle.

The trial lasted from the 21st of February to the 30th of May,
1431. The court held forty sittings, mostly in the chapel of the
castle, some in Joan's very prison. On her arrival there, she
had been put in an iron cage; afterwards she was kept "no
longer in the cage, but in a dark room in a tower of the castle,
wearing irons upon her feet, fastened by a chain to a large
piece of wood, and guarded night and day by four or five sol
diers of low grade. " She complained of being thus chained ;
but the bishop told her that her former attempts at escape de
manded this precaution. "It is true," said Joan, as truthful
as heroic, " I did wish and I still wish to escape from prison,
as is the right of every prisoner." At her examination, the
bishop required her to take * * an oath to tell the truth about
every thing as to which she should be questioned." " I know
not what you mean to question me about ; perchance you may
ask me things I would not tell you ; touching my revelations,
for instance, you might ask me to tell something I have sworn
not to tell ; thus I should be perjured, which you ought not to
desire." The bishop insisted upon an oath absolute and without
condition. " You are too hard on me," said Joan; "I do not
like to take an oath to tell the truth save as to matters which
concern the faith." The bishop called upon her to swear on
pain of being held guilty of the things imputed to her. " Go
on to something else," said she. And this was the answer she
made to all questions which seemed to her to be a violation of
her right to be silent. Wearied and hurt at these imperious
demands, she one day said, " I come on God's business, and I
have naught to do here ; send me back to God from whom I
come." "Are you sure you are in God's grace?" asked the
bishop. "If I be not," answered Joan, "please God to bring
me to it; and if I be, please God to keep me in it !" The bishop
himself remained dumbfounded.

There is no object in following through all sittings and all
its twistings this odious and shameful trial, in which the
judges' prejudiced servility and scientific subtlety were em
ployed for three months to wear out the courage or overreach

CH. xxiY.J THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 273

the understanding of a young girl of nineteen, who refused at
one time to lie, and at another to enter into discussion with
them, and made no defence beyond holding her tongue or ap
pealing to God who had spoken to her and dictated to her that
which she had done. In order to force her from her silence or
bring her to submit to the Church instead of appealing from it
to God, it was proposed to employ the last means of all, tor
ture. On the 9th of May the bishop had Joan brought into the
great tower of Rouen Castle ; the instruments of torture were
displayed before her eyes ; and the executioners were ready to
fulfil their office, "for to bring her back," said the bishop,
"into the ways of truth, in order to insure the salvation of
her soul and body so gravely endangered by erroneous inven
tions." " Verily," answered Joan, "if you should have to
tear me limb from limb, and separate soul from body, 1 should
not tell you ought else ; and if I were to tell you aught else, I
should afterwards still tell you that you had made me tell it
by force. " The idea of torture was given up. It was resolved
to display all the armory of science in order to subdue the
mind of this young girl whose conscience was not to be subju
gated. The chapter of Rouen declared that in consequence of
her public refusal to submit herself to the decision of the
Church as to her deeds and her statements, Joan deserved to
be declared a heretic. The University of Paris, to which had
been handed in the twelve heads of accusation resulting from
Joan's statements and examinations, replied that "if, having
been charitably admonished, she would not make reparation
and return to union with the Catholic faith, she must be left
to the secular judges to undergo punishment for her crime.'*
Armed with these documents the bishop of Beauvais had
Joan brought up, on the 23rd of May, in a hall adjoining her
prison and, after having addressed to her a long exhortation,
"Joan," said he, "if in the dominions of your king, when you
were at large in them, a knight or any other, born under his
rule and allegiance to him, had risen up, saying, * I will not
obey the king or submit to his officers,' would you not have
said that he ought to be condemned? What then will you say
of yourself, you who were born in the faith of Christ and be
came by baptism a daughter of the Church and spouse of Jesus
Christ, if you obey not the officers of Christ, that is, the pre
lates of the Church?" Joan listened modestly to this admoni
tion and confined herself to answering, " As to my deeds and
sayings, what I said of them at the trial I do hold to and mear

274 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. XXIT.

to abide by." " Think you that you are not bound to submit
your sayings and deeds to the Church militant or to any other
than God?" "The course that I always mentioned and pur
sued at the trial I mean to maintain as to that. If I were at the
stake and saw the torch lighted and the executioner ready to
set fire to the faggots, even if I were in the midst of the flames,
I should not say aught else, and I should uphold that which 1
said at the trial even unto death."

According to the laws, ideas, and practices of the time the
legal question was decided. Joan, declared heretic and rebel
lious by the Church, was liable to have sentence pronounced
against her; but she had persisted in her statements, she had
shown no submission. Although she appeared to be quite for
gotten and was quite neglected by the king whose coronation
she had effected, by his councillors, and even by the brave
warriors at whose side she had fought, the public exhibited a
lively interest in her ; accounts of the scenes which took place
at her trial were inquired after with curiosity. Amongst the
very judges who prosecuted her many were troubled in spirit
and wished that Joan, by an abjuration of her statements,
would herself put them at ease and relieve them from pro
nouncing against her the most severe penalty. What means
were employed to arrive at this end? Did she really and with
full knowledge of what she was about come round to the ab
juration which there was so much axiety to obtain from her?
It is difficult to solve this historical problem with exactness
and certainty. More than once, during the examinations and
conversations which took place at that time between Joan and
her judges, she maintained her firm posture and her first
statements. One of those who were exhorting her to yield
said to her one day, "Thy king is a heretic and a schismatic."
Joan could not brook this insult to her king. " By my faith,"
said she, " full well dare I both say and swear that he is the
noblest Christian of all Christians, and the truest lover of the
faith and the Church." " Make her hold her tongue," said the
usher to the preacher, who was disconcerted at having pro
voked such language. Another day, when Joan was being
urged to submit to the Church, brother Isambard de la Pierre,
a Dominican, who was interested in her, spoke to her about
the council, at the same time explaining to her its province in
the Church. It was the very time when that of Bale had been
convoked. " Ah 1" said Joan, "I would fain surrender and
submit myself to the council of Bale." The bishop of Beauvai*

CH. xxiv.] TEE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 275

trembled at the idea of this appeal. " Hold your tongue in the
devil's name ! " said he to the monk. Another of the judges,
William Erard, asked Joan menacingly, "Will you abjure
those reprobate words and deeds of yours?" "I leave it to the
universal Church whether I ought to abjure or not? " " That
is not enough: you shall abjure at once or you shall burn."
Joan shuddered. "I would rather sign than burn," she said.
There was put before her a form of abjuration whereby, dis
avowing her revelations and visions from heaven, she confessed
her errors in matters of faith and renounced them humbly.
At the bottom of the document she made the mark of a cross.
Doubts have arisen as to the genuiness of this long and diffuse
deed in the form in which it has been published in the trial-
papers. Twenty-four years later, in 1455, during the trial
undertaken for the rehabilitation of Joan, several of those who
had been present at the trial at which she was condemned,
amongst others the usher Massieu and the registrar Taquel,
declared that the form of abjuration read out at that time to
Joan and signed by her contained only seyen or eight lines of
big writing ; and according to another witness of the scene it
was an Englishman, John Calot, secretary of Henry VI., king
of England, who, as soon as Joan had yielded, drew from his
sleeve a little paper which he gave to her to sign, and dissatis
fied with the mark she had made, held her hand and guided it
so that she might put down her name, every letter. However
that may be, as soon as Joan's abjuration had thus been ob
tained, the court issued on the 24th of May, 1431, a definitive
decree, whereby, after some long and severe strictures in the
preamble, it condemned Joan to perpetual imprisonment " with
the bread of affliction and the water of affliction, in order that
she might deplore the errors and faults she had committed and
relapse into them no more henceforth."

The Church might be satisfied ; but the king of England, his
councillors and his officers, were not. It was Joan li ving, even
though a prisoner, that they feared. They were animated to
wards her by the two ruthless passions of vengeance and fear.
When it was known that she would escape with her life, mur
murs broke out amongst the crowd of enemies present at the
trial. Stones were thrown at the judges. One of the cardinal
of Winchester's chaplains, who happened to be close to the
bishop of Beauvais, called him traitor. "You lie," said the
bishop. And the bishop was right ; the chaplain did lie ; the
bishop had no intention of betraying his masters. The earl of

276 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxiv.

Warwick complained to him of the inadequacy of the sentence.
" Never you mind, my lord," said one of Peter Cauchon's con
fidants, " we will have her up again." After the passing of
her sentence Joan had said to those ahout her, "Come now,
you churchmen amongst you, lead me off to your own prisons,
and let me be no more in the hands of the English." " Lead
her to where you took her," said the bishop; and she was con
ducted to the castle prison. She had been told by some of the
judges who went to see her after her sentence that she would
have to give up her man's dress and resume her woman's
clothing as the Church ordained. She was rejoiced thereat;
forthwith, accordingly, resumed her woman's clothes, and had
her hair properly cut, which up to that time she used to wear
clipped round like a man's. When she was taken back to
prison, the man's dress which she had worn was put in a sack
in the same room in which she was confined, and she remained
in custody at the said place in the hands of five Englishmen,
of whom three stayed by night in the room and two outside at
the door. "And hQ who speaks [John Massieu, a priest, the
same who in 1431 had been present as usher of the court at
the trial in which Joan was condemned] knows for certain that
at night she had her legs ironed in such sort that she could not
stir from the spot. When the next Sunday morning, which
was Trinity Sunday, had come and she should have got up,
according to what she herself told to him who speaks, she said
to her English guards, 'Uniron me; I will get up.' Then one
of them took away her woman's clothes ; they emptied the sack
in which was her man's dress and pitched the said dress to her,
saying, 'Get up, then,' and they put her woman's clothes in
the same sack. And according to what she told me she only
clad herself in her man's dress after saying, ' You know it is
forbidden me; I certainly will not take it.' Nevertheless they
would not allow her any other; insomuch that the dispute
lasted to the hour of noon. Finally, from corporeal necessity,
Joan was constrained to get up and take the dress."

The official documents drawn up during the condemnation-
trial contain quite a different account. " On the 28th of May,"
it is there said, " eight of the judges who had taken part in the
sentence [their names are given in the document, t. i. p. 454]
betook themselves to Joan's prison, and seeing her clad in
man's dress, 'which she had but just given up according to
our order that she should resume woman's clothes, we asked
her when and for what cause she had resumed this dress, and

CH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 277

who had prevailed on her to do so. Joan answered that it wai
of her own will, without any constraint from any one, and
because she prefered that dress to woman's clothes. To our
question as to why she had made this change she answered,
that being surrounded by men man's dress was more suitable
for her than woman's. She also said that she had resumed it
because there had been made to her, but not kept, a promise
that she should go to mass, receive the body of Christ, and be
set free from her fetters. She added that if this promise were
kept she would be good, and would do what was the will of the
Church. As we had heard some persons say that she persisted
in her errors as to the pretended revelations which she had but
lately renounced, we asked whether she had since Thursday
last heard the voices of St. Catherine and St. Margaret; and
she answered, yes. To our question as to what the saints had
said, she answered, that God had testified to her by their voices
great pity for the great treason she had committed in abjuring
for the sake of saving her life, and that by so doing she bad
damned herself. She said that all she had thus done last
Thursday in abjuring her visions and revelations she nad done
through fear of the stake, and that all her abjuration was con
trary to the truth. She added that she did not herself compre
hend what was contained in the form of abjuration she had
been made to sign, and that she would rather do penance once
for all by dying to maintain the truth than remain any longer
a prisoner, being all the while a traitress to it.

We will not stop to examine whether these two accounts,
though very different, are not fundamentally reconcilable, and
whether Joan resumed man's dress of her own desire or was
constrained to do so by the soldiers on guard over her, and
perhaps to escape from their insults. The important points
in the incident are the burst of remorse which Joan felt for
her weakness and her striking retractation of the abjuration
which had been wrung from her. So soon as the news was
noised abroad, her enemies cried, "She has relapsed!" This
was exactly what they had hoped for when, on learning that
she had been sentenced only to perpetual imprisonment, they
had said, "Never you mind; we will have her up again."
"Farewell, farewell, my lord," said the bishop of Beauvais to
the earl of Warwick, whom he met shortly after Joan's retrac
tation ; and in his words there was plainly an expression of satis
faction and not a mere phrase of politeness. On the 29th of
May the tribunal met again. Forty judges took part in the

278 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxiy.

deliberation ; Joan was unanimously declared a case of relapse,
was found guilty and cited to appear next day, the 30th, on the
Vieux-Marche to hear sentence pronounced, and then undergo
the punishment of the stake.

When on the 30th of May, in the morning, the Dominican
brother Martin Ladvenu was charged to announce her sentence
to Joan, she gave way at first to grief and terror. " Alas!*
she cried, " am I to be so horribly and cruely treated that this
my body, full, pure and perfect and never defiled, must to-day
be consumed and reduced to ashes? Ah! I would seven times
rather be beheaded than burned !" The bishop of Beauvais at
this moment came up. "Bishop," said Joan, "you are the
cause of my death ; if you had put me in the prisons of the
Church and in the hands of fit and proper ecclesiastical war
ders, this had never happened ; I appeal from you to the pres
ence of God." One of the doctors who had sat in judgment
upon her, Peter Maurice, went to see her and spoke to her with
sympathy. " Master Peter," said she to him, "where shall 1
be to-night? " " Have you not good hope in God? " asked the
doctor. "Oh yes," she answered; "by the grace of God I
shall be in paradise." Being left alone with the Dominican,
Martin Ladvenu, she confessed and asked to communicate.
The monk applied to the bishop of Beauvais to know what he
was to do. "Tell brother Martin," was the answer, "to give
her the eucharist and all she asks for." At nine o'clock, having
resumed her woman's dress, Joan was dragged from prison
and driven to the Vieux-Marche. From seven to eight hun
dred soldiers escorted the car and prohibited all approach to it
on the part of the crowd, which encumbered the road and the
vicinities ; but a man forced a passage and flung himself tow
ards Joan. It was a canon of Rouen, Nicholas Loiseleur, whom
the bishop of Beauvais had placed near her and who had
abused the confidence she had shown him. Beside himself
with despair he wished to ask pardon of her ; but the English
soldiers drove him back with violence and with the epithet of
traitor, and but for the intervention of the earl of Warwick
his life would have been in danger. Joan wept and prayed ;
and the crowd, afar off, wept and prayed with her. On arriv
ing at the place she listened in silence to a sermon by one of
the doctors of the court, who ended by saying, "Joan go in
peace ; the Church can no longer defend thee ; she gives thee
over to the secular arm." The laic judges, Raoul Bouteillier,
baiDie of Rouen, and his lieutenant, Peter Daron, were alone

OH. x«v. J THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 279

qualified to pronounce sentence of death; but no time was
given them. The priest Massieu was still continuing his ex
hortations to Joan, but " How now ! priest," was the cry from
amidst the soldiery, "are you going to make us dine here?"
"Away with her! Away with her!" said the baillie to the
guards; and to the executioner, "Do thy duty." When she
came to the stake Joan knelt down completely absorbed
in prayer. She had begged Massieu to get her a cross ; and an
Englishman present made one out of a little stick, and handed
it to the French heroine, who took it, kissed it, and laid it on
her breast. She begged brother Isambard de la Pierre to go
and fetch the cross from the church of St. Sauveur, the chief
door of which opened on the Vieux-Marche, and to hold it "up
right before her eyes till the coming of death, in order," she
said, "that the cross whereon God hung might as long as she
lived, be continually in her sight;" and her wishes were ful
filled. She wept over her country and the spectators as well
as over herself. "Rouen, Rouen," she cried, "is it here that
I must die? Shalt thou be my last resting-place? I fear
greatly thou wilt have to suffer for my death." It is said that
the aged cardinal of Winchester and the Bishop of Beauvais
himself could not stifle their emotion — and, peradventure their
tears. The executioner set fire to the faggots. When Joan
perceived the flames rising, she urged her confessor, the Dom
inican brother, Martin Ladvenu, to go down, at the same time
asking him to keep holding the cross up high in front of her
that she might never cease to see it0 The same monk, when
questioned four and twenty years later, at the rehabilitation-
trial, as to the last sentiments and the last words of Joan, said
that to the very Idst moment she had affirmed that her voices
were heavenly, that they had not deluded her, and that the
revelations she had received came from God. When she had
ceased to live, two of her judges, John Alespee, canon of
Rouen, and Peter Maurice, doctor of theology, cried out,
" Would that my soul were where I believe the soul of that
woman is!" And Tressart secretary to King Henry VI., said
sorrowfully, on returning from the place of execution, "W*
are all lost; We have burned a saint."

A saint indeed in faith and in destiny. Never was human
creature more heroically confident in and devoted to inspira
tion coming from God, a commission received from God.
Joan of Arc sought nothing of all that happened to her and of
all she did, nor exploit, nor power, nor glory, " It waa not

280 HISTORY OF FRANCIS. [OH. xxiv.

her condition," as she used to say, to be a warrior, to get her
king crowned and to deliver her country from the foreigner.
Every thing came to her from on high, and she accepted
every thing without hesitation, without discussion, without
calculation, as we should say in our times. She believed in
God and obeyed Him. God was not to her an idea, a hope, a
flash of human imagination, or a problem of human science ;
He was the Creator of the world, the Saviour of mankind
through Jesus Christ, the Being of beings, ever present, ever
in action, sole legitimate sovereign of man whom He has made
intelligent and free, the real and true God whom we are pain
fully searching for in our own day, and whom we shall never
find again until we cease pretending to do without Him and
putting ourselves in His place. Meanwhile one fact may be
mentioned which does honor to our epoch and gives us hope
for our future. Four centuries have rolled by since Joan of
Arc, that modest and heroic servant of God, made a sacrifice
of herself for France. For four and twenty years after her
death, France and the king appeared to think no more of her.
However, in 1455, remorse came upon Charles VII. and upon
France. Nearly all the provinces, all the towns were freed
from the foreigner; and shame was felt that nothing was
said, nothing done for the young girl who had saved every
thing. At Rouen, especially, where the sacrifice was com
pleted, a cry for reparation arose. It was timidly demanded
from the spiritual power which had sentenced and delivered
over Joan as a heretic to the stake. Pope Calixtus III. enter,
tained the request preferred not by the king of France but in
the name of Isabel Romee, Joan's mother, and her whole
family. Regular proceedings were commeneed and followed
up for the rehabilitation of the martyr; and, on the 7th of
July, 1456, a decree of the court assembled at Rouen quashed
the sentence of 1431, together with all its consequences, and
ordered "a general procession and solemn sermon at St. Ouen
Place and the Vieux-Marche, where the said maid had been
cruelly and horribly burned ; besides the planting of a cross of
honor (crucis honestce) on the Vieux-Marche, the judges re
serving the official notice to be given of their decision through
out the cities and notable places of the realm." The city of
Orleans responded to this appeal by raising on the bridge over
the Loire a group hi bronze representing Joan of Arc on her
knees before Our Lady, between two angels. This monument,
which was broken during the religious wars of the sixteenth

CH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 281

century, and repaired shortly afterwards, was removed in the
eighteenth century, and Joan of Arc then received a fresh
insult : the poetry of a cynic was devoted to the task of divert
ing a licentious public at the expense of the saint whom, three
centuries before, fanatical hatred had brought to the stake.
In 1792, the council of the commune of Orleans, "considering
that the monument in bronze did not represent the heroine's
services and did not by any sign call to mind the struggle
against the English, " ordered it to be melted down and cast
into cannons, of which "one should bear the name of Joan of
Arc." It is in our time that the city of Orleans and its distin
guished bishop, Mgr. Dupanloup, have at last paid Joan hom
age worthy of her, not only by erecting to her a new statue,
but by recalling her again to the memory of France with her
true features and in her grand character. Neither French nor
any other history offers a like example of a modest little soul
with a faith so pure and efficacious, resting on divine inspira
tion and patriotic hope.

During the trial of Joan of Arc, the war between France and
England, without being discontinued, had been somewhat
slack : the curiosity and the passions of men were concentrated
upon the scenes at Rouen. After the execution of Joan the
war resumed its course, though without any great events.
By way of a step towards solution, the duke of Bedford, in
November, 1431, escorted to Paris King Henry VI., scarcely
ten years old, and had him crowned at Notre-Dame. The
ceremony was distinguished for pomp but not for warmth.
The duke of Burgundy was not present ; it was an English
man, the cardinal-bishop of Winchester, who anointed the
young Englander king of France; the bishop of Paris com
plained of it as a violation of his rights ; the parliament, the
.university, and the municipal body had not even seats re
served at the royal banquet ; Paris was melancholy and day
by day more deserted by the native inhabitants ; grass was
growing in the courtyards of the great mansions ; the students
were leaving the great school of Paris, to which the duke of
Bedford at Caen, and Charles VII. himself at Poitiers, were
attempting to raise up rivals ; and silence reigned in the Latin
quarter. The child-king was considered unintelligent and un
graceful and ungracious. When, on the day after Christmas,
he started on his way back to Rouen and from Rouen to Eng
land, he did not confer on Paris "any of the boons expected,
either by releasing prisoners or by putting an end to black-

282 HISTORY OF FRANCS. fen. XXIY,

mails, gabels, and wicked imposts." The burgesses were
astonished, and grumbled; and the old queen, Isabel of
Bavaria, who was still living at the hostel of St. Paul, wept,
it is said, for vexation, at seeing from one of her windows her
grandson's royal procession go by.

Though war was going on all the while, attempts were made
to negotiate ; and hi March, 1433, a conference was opened at
Seineport, near Corbeil. Every body in France desired peace,
Philip the Good himself began to feel the necessity of it.
Burgundy was almost as discontented and troubled as He-de-
France. There was grumbling at Dijon as there was con
spiracy at Paris. The English gave fresh cause for national
irritation. They showed an inclination to canton themselves
in Normandy, and abandoned the other French provinces to
the hazards and sufferings of a desultory war. Anne of
Burgundy, the duke of Bedford's wife and Philip the Good's
sister, died. The English duke speedily married again with
out even giving any notice to the French prince. Every
family tie between the two persons were broken; and the
negotiations as well as the war remained without result.

An incident at court caused a change in the situation and
and gave the government of Charles a different character.
His favorite, George de la Tremoille, had become almost as
unpopular amongst the royal family as in the country in
general. He could not manage a war and he frustrated at
tempts at peace. The queen of Sicily, Yolande d'Aragon, her
daughter, Mary d'Anjou, queen of France, and her son, Louis,
count of Maine, who all three desired peace, set themselves to
work to overthrow the favorite. In June, 1433, four young
lords, one of whom, sire de Beuffl, was La Tremoille's own
nephew, introduced themselves unexpectedly into his room at
the castle of Coudray, near Chinon, where Charles VIL was.
La Tremoille's showed an intention of resisting, and received a
sword -thrust. He was made to resign all his offices and was
sent under strict guard to the castle of Montre"sor, the property
of his nephew, sire de BeuiL The conspirators had concerted
measures with La Tremoille's rival, the constable De Riche-
mont, Arthur of Brittany, a man distinguished in war, who
had lately gone to help Joan of Arc, and who was known to
be a friend of peace at the same time that he was firmly de
voted to the national cause. He was called away from hia
castle of Parthenay and set at the head of the government as
well as of the army. Charles VII. at first showed anger at his

CH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED TEARS1 WAR. 283

favorite's downfall. He asked if Richemont was present and
was told no: whereupon he seemed to grow calmer. Before
long he did more; he became resigned, and, continuing all
the while to give La Tremoille occasional proofs of his former
favor, he fully accepted De Richemont's influence and the new
direction which the constable imposed upon his government.

War was continued nearly every where, with alternations
of success and reverse which deprived none of the parties of
hope without giving victory to any. Peace, however, was
more and more the general desire. Scarcely had one attempt
at pacification failed when another was begun. The constable
De Richemont's return to power led to fresh overtures. He
was a statesman as well as a warrior; and his inclinations
were known at Dijon and London as well as at Chinon. The
advisers of King Henry VI. proposed to open a conference,
on the 15th of October, 1433, at Calais. They had they said, a
prisoner in England, confined there ever since the battle of
Agincourt, Duke Charles of Orleans, who was sincerely
desirous of peace, in spite of his family-enmity towards the
duke of Burgundy. He was considered a very proper person
to promote the negotiations, although he sought in poetry,
which was destined to bring lustre to his name, a refuge from
politics which made his life a burthen. He, one day meeting
the duke of Burgundy's two ambassadors at the earl of
Suffolk's Henry VI. 's prime minister, went up to them,
affectionately took their hands and, when they inquired after
his health, said, "My body is well, my soul is sick; I am
dying with vexation at passing my best days a prisoner, with
out any one to think of me;" The ambassadors said that
people would be indebted to him for the benefit of peace, for
he was known to be laboring for it. " My lord of Suffolk,"
said he, " can tell you that I never cease to urge it upon the
king and his council ; but I am as useless here as the sword
never drawn from the scabbard. I must see my relatives and
friends in France ; they will not treat, surely, without having
consulted with me. If peace depended upon me, though I
were doomed to die seven days after swearing it, that would
cause me no regret. However, what matters it what I say?
I am not master in anything at all ; next to the two kings, it is
the duke of Burgundy and the duke of Britany who have most
power. Will you not come and call upon me?" he added,
pressing the hand of one of the ambassadors. "They will see
you before they go," said the earl of Suffolk in atone which

284 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH. xxiv.

made it plain that no private conversation would be permitted
between them. And indeed the earl of Suffolk's barber went
alone to wait upon the ambassadors in order to tell them that,
if the duke of Burgundy desired it, the duke of Orleans would
write to him. " I will undertake," he added, "to bring you
his letter." There was evident mistrust; and it was explained
to the Burgundian ambassadors by the earl of Warwick's
remark, "Your duke never once came to see our king during
his stay in France." The duke of Bedford used similar lan
guage to them. " Why," said he, "does my brother the duke
of Burgundy give way to evil imaginings against me? There
is not a prince in the world, after my king, whom I esteem so
much. The ill-will which seems to exist between us spoils the
king's affairs and his own too. But tell him that I am not the
the less disposed to serve him."

In March, 1435, the duke of Burgundy went to Paris, taking
with him his third wife, Isabel of Portugal, and a magnificent
following. There were seen, moreover, in his train, a hundred
waggons laden with artillery, armor, salted provisions, cheeses,
and wines of Burgundy. There was once more joy in Paris,
and the duke received the most affectionate welcome. The
university was represented before him and made him a great
speech on the necessity of peace. Two days afterwards, a
deputation from the city-dames of Paris waited upon the
duchess of Burgundy and implored her to use her influence for
the re-establishment of peace. She answered, "My good
friends, it is the thing I desire most of all in the world ; I pray
for it night and day, to the Lord our God, for I believe that we
all have great need of it, and I know for certain that my lord
and husband has the greatest willingness to give up to that
purpose his person and his substance." At the bottom of his
soul Duke Philip's decision was already taken. He had but
lately discussed the condition of France with the constable,
De Richemont, and Duke Charles of Bourbon, his brother-in-
law, whom he had summoned to Nevers with that design. Being
convinced of the necessity for peace, he spoke of it to the king
of England's advisers whom be found in Paris, and who dared
not show absolute opposition to it. It was agreed that in
the month of July a general and, more properly speaking, a
European conference should meet at Arras, that the legates of
pope Eugenius IV. should be invited to it, and that consulta
tion should be held thereat as to the means of putting an end
to the sufferings of the two kingdoms.

CH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 285

Towards the end of July, accordingly, whilst the war was
being prosecuted with redoubled ardour on both sides at the
very gates of Paris, there arrived at Arras the pope's legates
and the ambassadors of Emperor Sigismund, of the kings of
Castile, Aragon, Portugal, Naples, Sicily, Cyprus, Poland and
Denmark, and of the dukes of Brittany and Milan. The
university of Paris and many of the good towns of France,
Flanders, and even Holland, had sent their deputies thither.
Many bishops were there in person. The bishop of Liege came
thither with a magnificent train mounted, say the chroniclers,
on two hundred white horses. The duke of Burgundy made
his entrance on the 30th of July, escorted by three hundred
archers wearing his livery. All the lords who happened to be
in the city went to meet him at a league's distance, except the
cardinal-legates of the pope, who confined themselves to send
ing their people. Two days afterwards arrived the ambassa
dors of the king of France, having at their head the duke of
Bourbon and the constable de Richemont, together with
several of the greatest French lords and a retinue of four or
five hundred persons, Duke Philip, forwarned of their coming,
issued from the city with all the princes and lords who hap
pened to be there. The English alone refused to accompany
him, wondering at his showing such great honor to the ambas
sadors of their common enemy. Philip went forward a mile
to meet his two brothers-in-law, the duke of Bourbon and the
count de Richemont, embraced them affectionately, and turned
back with them into Arras, amidst the joy and acclamations
of the populace. Last of all arrived the duchess of Burgundy,
magnificently dressed and bringing with her her young son,
the count Charolais, who was hereafter to be Charles the Rash.
The duke of Bourbon, the constable De Richemont and all the
lords were on horseback around her litter ; but the English who
had gone, like the others, to meet her, were unwilling, on turn
ing back to Arras, to form a part of her retinue with the French.

Grand as was the sight, it was not superior in grandeur to
the event on the eve of accomplishment. The question was
whether France should remain a great nation in full possession
of itself and of its independence under a French king, or whether
the king of England should, in London and with the title of
king of France, have France in his possession and under his
government. Philip the Good, duke of Burgundy, was called
upon to solve this problem of the future, that is to say, to
decide upon the fate of his lineage and his country.

286 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxiv,

As soon as the conference was opened, and no matter what
attempts were made to veil or adjourn the question, it was
put nakedly. The English, instead of peace, began by pro
posing along truce and the marriage of Henry VI. with a
daughter of King Charles. The French ambassadors refused,
absolutely, to negotiate on this basis ; they desired a definitive
peace ; and their conditions were that the king and people of
England should give up the pretended title and right to the
crown of France, that the duchy of Aquitaine should be ceded
to them as a fief, and that they should give up, besides, al)
they occupied in France. After much solemn discussion and
private conversation the legates of the pope by dint of entreaty
got the French to offer Normandy to the king of England, but
on the footing of peerage and vassalage, as it had been held
by King John and by King Charles V. when dauphin; and
they, further, peremptorily demanded the abandonment of all
pretension to the crown of France and to any other possession
in France. The English ambassadors and the cardinal-bishop
of Winchester, at their arrival from London on the 26th of
August with a numerous following, declared that they had no
power thus to despoil the king their master of a crown to
which he had a right, and that they withdrew from the con
ference. .Before they went they told the pope's legates uthat
it was not a just thing nor legitmate to labor to make peace,
without them, between the duke of Burgundy and King Charles
their adversary, since the duke had sworn, with them, to
treaties from which he could not extricate himself." On the
refusal of the legates to allow their objection, they left Arras
on the 1st of September, and returned to England.

Up to that moment the duke of Burgundy had remained a
stranger to the negotiations. "He was French in blood, in
heart, in wish ; he belonged to the noble house of France, and
from it sprang the origin of all his greatness. He saw the
kingdom destroyed and the poor people reduced to despair.
The English had often offended him ; he had many times
found them proud, obstinate, insolent ; he had little to gain by
their alliance, and for several years past, they had never
succoured him in his embarrassments and disresses." He
readily listened to his friends in France, especially to his
brother-in-law the constable De Richemont. Night by night,
when every body had retired, the constable sought out Duke
Philip, gave him an account of every thing, and put before
his eyes all the urgent reasons for making an end of this

OH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 287

situation, so full of danger for the whole royal house and of
suffering for the people. Nevertheless the duke showed
strong scruples. The treaties he had sworn to, the promises
he had made threw him into a constant fever of anxiety ; he
would not have any one able to say that he had in any respect
forfeited his honor. He asked for three consultations, one
with the Italian doctors connected with the pope's legates,
another with English doctors, anu another with French
doctors. He was granted all three, though they were more
calculated to furnish him with arguments, each on their own
side, than to dissipate his doubts if he had any real ones.
The legates ended by solemnly saying to him, ' 4 We do con
jure you by the bowels of our Lord Jesus Christ and by the
authority of our holy father the pope, of the holy council
assembled at Bale and the universal Church, to renounce that
spirit of vengeance whereby you are moved against King
Charles in memory of the late duke John, your father ; noth
ing can render you more pleasing in the eyes of God or
further augment your fame in this world." For three days
Duke Philip remained still undecided ; but he heard that the
duke of Bedford, regent of France on behalf of the English,
who was his brother-in-law, had just died at Rouen on the
14th of September. He was, besides the late king of England,
Henry V., the only Englishman who had received promises
from the duke and who lived in intimacy with him. Ten
days afterwards, on the 24th of September, the queen, Isabel
of Bavaria, also died at Paris ; and thus another of the princi
pal causes of shame to the French kingship and misfortune to
France disappeared from the stage of the world. Duke Philip
felt himself more free and more at rest in his mind, if not
rightfully at any rate so far as political and worldly expedi
ence was concerned. He declared his readiness to accept the
proposals which had been communicated to him by the am
bassadors of Charles VII. ; and on the 21st of September, 1435,
peace was signed at Arras between France and Burgundy,
without any care for what England might say or do.

There was great and 'general joy in France. It was peace
and national reconciliation as well; Dauphinisers and Bur-
gundians embraced in the streets ; the Burgundians were de
lighted at being able to call themselves Frenchmen. Charles
VII. convoked the states-general at Tours to consecrate this
alliance. On his knees, upon the bare stone, before the arch
bishop of Crete who had just celebrated mass, the king laid

13 VOL. 2

288 HISTORY OF FRANCS. [en. xxir

his hands upon the Gospels and swore the peace, saying that
"It was his duty to imitate the King of kings, our divine
Saviour, who had brought peace amongst men." At the
chancellor's order the princes and gieat lords one after the
other took the oath ; the nobles and the people of the third
estate swore the peace all together, with cries of " Long live
the king! Long live the duke of Burgundy!" "With this
hand," said sire de Lctnnoy, "I have thrice sworn peace
during this war ; but I call God to witness that, for my part,
this time it shall be kept and that never will I break it (the
peace)." Charles VII. in his emotion, seized the hands of
Duke Philip's ambassadors, saying, " For a long while I have
languished for this happy day; we must thank God for it."
And the Te Deum was intoned with enthusiasm.

Peace was really made amongst Frenchmen ; and, in spite
of many internal difficulties and quarrels, it was not broken
as long as Charles VII. and Duke Philip the Good were living.
But the war with the English went on incessantly. They still
possessed several of the finest provinces of France : and the
treaty of Arras which had weakened them very much on the
Continent had likewise made them very angry. For twenty-
six years, from 1435 to 1461, hostilities continued between the
two kingdoms, at one time actively and at another slackly,
with occasional suspension by truce, but without any formal
termination. There is no use in recounting the details of
their monotonous and barren history. Governments and
people often persist in maintaining their quarrels and inflict
ing mutual injuries by the instrumentality of events, acts,
and actors, that deserve nothing but oblivion. There is no
intention here of dwelling upon any events or persons save
such as have for good or for evil, to its glory or its sorrow,
exercised a considerable influence upon the condition and
fortune of France.

The peace of Arras brought back to the service of France
and her king the constable De Richemont, Arthur of Brittany,
whom the jealousy of George de la Tremoille and the distrust
ful indolence of Charles VII. had so long kept out of it. By a
somewhat rare privilege, he was in reality, there is reason to
suppose, superior to the name he has left behind him in his-
tory; and it is only justice to reproduce here the portrait
given of him by one of his contemporaries who observed him
closely and knew him well. "Never a man of his time," says
William Gruet, "loved justice more than he or took more

CH. xxnr.] TEE HUNDRED TSARS' WAR 289

pains to do it according to his ability. Never was prince
more humble, more charitable, more compassionate, more lib
eral, less avaricious, or more open-handed in a good fashion
and without prodigality. He was a proper man, chaste and
brave as prince can be ; and there was none of his time of
better conduct than he in conducting a great battle or a great
siege and all sorts of approaches in all sorts of ways. Every
day, once at least in the four and twenty hours, his conversa
tion was of war, and he took more pleasure in it than in
aught else. Above all things he loved men of valor and good
renown, and he more than any other loved and supported the
people and freely did good to poor mendicants and others of
God's poor."

Nearly all the deeds of Eichemont, from the time that he
became powerful again, confirm the truth of this portrait.
His first thought and his first labor were to restore Paris to
France and to the king. The unhappy city in subjection to
the English was the very image of devastation and ruin.
"The wolves prowled about it by night, and there were in it,"
says an eye-witness, "twenty -four thousand houses empty."
The duke of Bedford, in order to get rid of these public tokens
of misery, attempted to supply the Parisians with bread and
amusements (panem et circenses)\ but their very diversions
were ghastly and melancholy. In 1425, there was painted in
the sepulchre of the Innocents a picture called the Dance of
Death: Death, grinning with fleshless jaws, was represented
taking by the hand all estates of the population in their turn
and making them dance. In the Hotel Armagnac, confisca
ted, as so many others were, from its owner, a show was
exhibited to amuse the people. " Four blind men armed with
staves were shut up with a pig in a little paddock. They had
to see whether they could kill the said pig, and when they
thought they were belaboring it most they were belaboring
one another." The constable resolved to put a stop to this
deplorable state of things in the capital of France, In April,
1436, when he had just ordered for himself apartments at St.
Denis, he heard that the English had just got in there and
plundered the church. He at once gave orders to march.
The Burgundians who made up nearly all his troop demanded
their pay and would not mount. Eichemont gave them his
bond; and the march was begun to St. Denis. "You know
the country?" said the constable to marshal Isle- Adam. "Yes,
my lord," answered the other, "and by my faith, in the

390 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [OH.

position held by the English, you would do nothing to harm
or annoy them though you had ten thousand fighting-men."
"Ah! but we will," replied Richemont; "God will help us.
Keep pressing forward to support the skirmishers." And he
occupied St. Denis and drove out the English. The population
of Paris, being informed of this success, were greatly moved
and encouraged. One brave burgess of Paris, Michel Laillier
master of the exchequer, notified to the constable, it is said,
that they were ready and quite able to open one of the gates
to him, provided that an engagement were entered into in the
king's name for a general amnesty and the prevention of all
disorder. The constable, on the king's behalf, entered into the
required engagement, and presented himself the next day, the
13th of April, with a picked force before the St. Michel gate.
The enterprise was discovered. A man posted on the wall
made signs to them with his hat, crying out, "Go to the
other gate, there's no opening this ; work is going on for you
in the Market-quarter." The picked force followed the course
of the ramparts up to the St. Jacques gate. "Who goes
there?" demanded some burghers who had the guard of it.
"Some of the constable's people." He himself came up on
his big charger, with satisfaction and courtesy in his mien.
Some little time was required for opening the gate; a long
ladder was let down ; and marshal Isle- Adam was the first to
mount, and planted on the wall the standard of France. The
fastenings of the drawbridge were burst, and when it was let
down the constable made his entry on horseback, riding
calmly down St. Jacques Street in the midst of a joyous and
comforted crowd. " My good friends," he said to them, " the
good King Charles, and I on his behalf, do thank you a
hundred thousand times for yielding up to him so quietly the
chief city of his kingdom. If there be amongst you any, of
whatsoever condition he may be, who hath offended against
my lord the king, all is forgiven, in the case both of the absent
and the present." Then he caused it to be proclaimed by
sound of trumpet throughout the streets that none of his
people should be so bold, on pain of hanging, as to take up
quarters in the house of any burgher against his will or to use
any reproach whatever or do the least displeasure to any. At
eight of the public joy the English had retired to the Bastille,
where the constable was disposed to besiege them. "My
lord," said the burghers to him, "they will surrender; do not
reject their offer; it is so far a fine thing enough to have thus

«H. XXIT.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 291

recovered Paris; often, on the contrary, many constables and
many marshals have been driven out of it. Take contentedly
what God hath granted you." The burghers' prediction was
not unverified. The English sallied out of the Bastille by the
gate which opened on the fields, and went and took boat in
the rear of the Louvre. Next day abundance of provisions
arrived in Paris ; and the gates were opened to the country
folks. The populace freely manifested their joy at being rid
of the English. "It was plain to see," was the saying, " that
they were not in France to remain ; not one of them had been
seen to sow a field with corn or build a house ; they destroyed
their quarters without a thought of repairing them ; they had
not restored, peradventure, a single fire-place. There was
only their regent, the duke of Bedford, who was fond of
building and making the poor people work; he would have
liked peace ; but the nature of those English is to be always at
war with their neighbors, and accordingly they all make a
bad end ; thank God there have already died in France more
than seventy thousand of them."

Up to the taking of Paris by the constable the duke of Bur
gundy had kept himself in reserve, and had maintained a tacit
neutrality towards England; he had merely been making,
without noisy demonstration, preparations for an enterprise in
which he, as count of Flanders, was very much interested.
The success of Richemont inspired him with a hope and per
haps with a jealous desire of showing his power and his
patriotism as a Frenchman by making war, in his turn, upon
the English, from whom he had by the treaty of Arras effected
only a pacific separation. In June, 1436, he went and besieged
Calais. This was attacking England at one of the points she
was bent upon defending most obstinately. Philip had
reckoned on the energetic co-operation of the cities of Flan
ders, and at the first blush the Flemings did display a strong
inclination to support him in his enterprise. ** When the
English," they said, " know that my lords of Ghent are on the
way to attack them with all their might they will not await
us; they will leave the city and flee away to England."
Neither the Flemings nor Philip had correctly estimated the
importance which was attached in London to the possession of
Calais. When the duke of Gloucester, lord-protector of Eng
land, found this possession threatened, he sent a herald to defy
the Duke of Burgundy and declare to him that, if he did not
wait for battle beneath the walls of Calais, Humphrey of

292 BISTORT OF FRANCE. fon. xrir.

Gloucester would go after him even into his own dominions.
" Tell your lord that he will not need to take so much trouble
and that he will find me here," answered Philip proudly. His
pride was over-confident. "Whether it were only a people's
fickleness or intelligent appreciation of their own commercial
interests in their relations with England, the Flemings grew
speedily disgusted with the siege of Calais, complained of the
tardiness in arrival of the fleet which Philip had despatched
thither to close the port against English vessels, and, after
having suffered several reverses by sorties of the English
garrison, they ended by retiring with such precipitation that
they abandoned part of their supplies and artillery. Philip,
according to the expression of M. Henri Martin, was reduced to
covering to their retreat with his cavalry ; and then he went
away sorrowfully to Lille, to advise about the means of de
fending his Flemish lordships exposed to the reprisals of the
English.

Thus the fortune of Burgundy was tottering whilst that of
France was recovering itself. The constable's easy occupation
of Paris led the majority of the small places in the neighbor
hood, St. Denis, Chevreuse, Marcoussis, and Montlhery to de
cide either upon spontaneous surrender or allowing themselves
to be taken after no great resistance. Charles VII. , on his
way through France to Lyon, in Dauphiny, Languedoc, Au-
vergne, and along the Loire, recovered several other towns,
for instance, Chateau-Landon, Nemours, and Charny. He
laid siege in person to Montreau, an important military post
with which a recent and sinister reminiscence was connected.
A great change now made itself apparent in the king's be-
behavior and disposition. He showed activity and vigilance,
and was ready to expose himself without any care for fatigue
or danger. On the day of the assault (10th of October, 1437)
he went down into the trenches, remained there in water up to
his waist, mounted the scaling-ladder sword in hand, and was
one of the first assailants who penetrated over the top of the
walls right into the place. After the surrender of the castle as
well as the town of Montreau he marched on Paris and made
his solemn re-entry there on the 12th of November, 1437, for
the first time since in 1418 Tanneguy-Duchatel had carried him
away, whilst still a child, wrapped in his bed-clothes. Charles
was received and entertained as became a recovered and a
victorious king; but he passed only three weeks there, and
went away once more, on the 3rd of December, to go and ro-

OH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 293

sume at Orleans first and then at Bourges, the serious cares of
government. It is said to have been at this royal entry into
Paris that Agnes Sorel or Soreau, who was soon to have the
name of Queen of Beauty and to assume in French history an
almost glorious though illegitimate position, appeared with
brilliancy in the train of the queen, Mary of Anjou, to whom
the king had appointed her a maid of honor. It is a question
whether she did not even then exercise over Charles VII. that
influence, serviceable alike to the honor of the king and of
France, which was to inspire Francis I., a century later, with
this gallant quatrain :—

""If to win back poor captive France be aught,
More honor, gentle Agnes, is thy meed,
Than ere was due to deeds of virtue wrought
By cloister'd nun or pious hermit-breed."

It is worth while perhaps to remark that in 1437 Agnes Sorel
was already twenty-seven.

One of the best informed, most impartial, and most sensible
historians of that epoch, James Duclercq, merely says on this
subject, "King Charles, before he had peace with duke Philip
of Burgundy, led a right holy life and said his canonical hours.
But after peace was made with the duke, though the king con
tinued to serve God, he joined himself unto a young woman,
who was afterwards called Fair Agnes."

Nothing is gained by ignoring good even when it is found in
company with evil, and there is no intention here of disputing
the share of influence exercised by Agnes Sorel upon Charles
VII. 's regeneration in politics and war after the treaty of
Arras. Nevertheless, in spite of the king's successes at Mon-
tereau and during his passage through central and northern
France, the condition of the country was still so bad in 1440,
the disorder was so great and the king so powerless to apply a
remedy that Riehemont, disconsolate, was tempted " to rid and
disburthen himself from the government of France and be
tween the rivers [Seine and Loire, no doubt] and to go or send
to the king for that purpose." But one day the prior of the
Carthusians at Paris called on the constable and found him in
his private chapel. "What need you, fair father?" asked
Richemont. The prior answered that he wished to speak with
my lord the constable. Richemont replied that it was he him
self. " Pardon me, my lord," said the prior, " I did not know
you; I wish to speak to you, if you please." "Gladly," said
Richemont. " Well, my lord, you yesterday held counsel and

294 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. EOT.

considered about disburthening yourself from the government
and office you hold hereabouts." "How know you that?
Who told you?" ' ' My lord, I do not know it through any per
son of your council, and do not put yourself out to learn who
told me, for it was one of my brethren. My lord, do not do
this thing; and be not troubled, for God will help you." "Ah!
fair father, how can that be? The king has no mind to aid me
or grant me men or money ; and the men-at-arms hate me be
cause I have justice done on them, and they have no mind to
obey me." " My lord, they will do what you desire; and the
king will give you orders to go and lay siege to Meaux, and
will send you men and money." "Ah! fair father, Meaux is
so strong! How can it be done? The king of England was
there for nine months before it." "My lord, be not you
troubled ; you will not be there so long ; keep having good hope
in God and He will help you. Be ever humble and grow not
proud; you will take Meaux ere long; your men will grow
proud; they will then have somewhat to suffer; but you will
come out of it to your honor."

The good prior was right. Meaux was taken ; and when the
constable went to tell the news at Paris the king made him
"great cheer." There was a continuance of war to the north
of the Loire ; and amidst many alternations of successes and
reverses the national cause made great way there. Charles
resolved, in 1442, to undertake an expedition to the south of
the Loire, in Aquitaine, where the English were still dominant;
and he was successful. He took from the English Tartas,
Saint-Sever, Marmande, La Reole, Blaye, and Bourg-sur-Mer.
Their ally, Count John d'Armagnac, submitted to the king of
France. These successes cost Charles VII. the brave La Hire,
who died at Montauban of his wounds. On returning to Nor
mandy where he had left Dunois, Charles, in 1443, conducted
a prosperous campaign there. The English leaders were getting
weary of a war without any definite issue ; and they had pro
posals made to Charles for a truce, accompanied with a de
mand on the part of their young king, Henry VI., for the
hand of a French princess, Margaret of Anjou, daughter of
King Rene, who wore the three crowns of Naples, Sicily, and
Jerusalem, without possessing any one of the kingdoms. The
truce and the marriage were concluded at Tours, in 1444.
Neither of the arrangements was popular in England; the
English people, who had only a far-off touch of suffering from
the war, considered that their government made too m*ny coa-

OH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. 295

cessions to France. In France, too, there was some murmur
ing; the king, it was said, did not press his advantages with
sufficient vigor ; every body was in a hurry to see all Aquitaine
reconquered. "But a joy that was boundless and impossible
to describe," says Thomas Bazin, the most intelligent of the
contemporary historians, "spread abroad through the whole
population of the Gauls. Having been a prey for so long to
incessant terrors, and shut up within the walls of their towns
like convicts in a prison, they rejoiced like people restored to
freedom after a long and bitter slavery. Companies of both
sexes were seen going forth into the country and visiting tem
ples or oratories dedicated to the saints, to pay the vows which
they had made in their distress. One fact especially was ad
mirable and the work of God Himself: before the truce so
violent had been the hatred between the two sides, both men-
at-arms and people, that none, whether soldier or burgher,
could without risk to life go out and pass from one place to
another unless under the protection of a safe-conduct. But,
so soon as the truce was proclaimed, every one went and came
at pleasure, in full liberty and security, whether in the same
district or in districts under divided rule ; and even those who,
before the proclamation of the truce, seemed to take no pleas
ure in any thing but a savage outpouring of human blood, now
took delight in the sweets of peace, and passed the days in
holiday -making and dancing with enemies who but lately had
been as bloodthirsty as themselves."

But for all their rejoicing at the peace, the French, king,
lords, and commons, had war still in their hearts; national
feelings were waking up afresh; the successes of late years
had revived their hopes ; and the civil dissensions which were
at that time disturbing England let favorable chances peep
out. Charles VII. and his advisers employed the leisure
afforded by the truce in preparing for a renewal of the strug
gle. They were the first to begin it again; and from 1449 to
1451 it was pursued by the French king and nation with ever
increasing ardor, and with obstinate courage by the veteran
English warriors astounded at no longer being victorious.
Normandy and Aquitaine, which was beginning to be called
Guyenne only, were throughout this period the constant and
the chief theatre of war. Amongst the great number of fights
and incidents which distinguished the three campaigns in
those two provinces the recapture of Rouen by Dunois in
October, 1449, the battle of Formigny, won near Bayeux on

296 BISTORT OP FRANCS. [OH. rov.

the 15th of April, 1450, by the constable De Richemont, and
the twofold capitulation of Bordeaux, first on the 28th of June,
1451, and next on the 9th of October, 1453, in order to submit
to Charles VII., are the only events to which a place in history
is due, for those were the days on which the question was
solved touching the independence of the nation and the king
ship in France. The duke of Somerset and Lord Talbot were
commanding in Rouen when Dunois presented himself beneath
its walls, in hopes that the inhabitants would open the gates to
him. Some burgesses, indeed, had him apprised of a certain
point in the walls at which they might be able to favor the
entry of the French. Dunois, at the same time making a
feint of attacking in another quarter, arrived at the spot in
dicated with 4000 men. The archers drew up before the wall ;
the men-at-arms dismounted; the burgesses gave the signal,
and the planting of scaling-ladders began ; but when hardly as
many as fifty or sixty men had reached the top of the wall the
banner and troops of Talbot were seen advancing. He had
been warned in time and had taken his measures. The as
sailants were repulsed; and Charles VII., who was just arriv
ing at the camp, seeing the abortiveness of the attempt, went
back to Pont-de-1'Arche. But the English had no long joy of
their success. They were too weak to make any effectual re
sistance, and they had no hope of any aid from England.
Their leaders authorized the burgesses to demand of the king
a safe-conduct in order to treat. The conditions offered by
Charles were agreeable to the burgesses but not to the Eng
lish ; and when the archbishop read them out in the hall of the
mansion-house, Somerset and Talbot witnessed an outburst of
joy which revealed to them all their peril. Faggots and
benches at once began to rain down from the windows ; the
English shut themselves up precipitately in the castle, in the
gate-towers, and in the great tower of the bridge ; and the bur
gesses armed themselves and took possession during the night
of the streets and the walls. Dunois, having received notice,
arrived in force at the Martainville gate. The inhabitants
begged him to march into the city as many men as he pleased.
"It shall be as you will," said Dunois. Three hundred men-
at-arms and archers seemed sufficient. Charles VII. returned
before Rouen ; the English asked leave to withdraw without
loss of life or kit; and "on condition," said the king, "that
they take nothing on the march without paying." " We have
not the wherewithal," they answered ; and the king gave them

CH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED YEARS1 WAR. 297

a hundred francs. Negotiations were recommenced. The
king required that Harfleur and all the places in the district
of Caux should be given up to him. "Ah I as for Harfleur,
that cannot be," said the duke of Somerset; "it is the first
town which surrendered to our glorious king, Henry V.,
thirty -five years ago." There was further parley. The
French consented to give up the demand for Harfleur; but-
they required that Talbot should remain as a hostage untft
the conditions were fulfilled. The English protested. At last,
however, they yielded, and undertook to pay fifty thousand
golden crowns to settle all accounts which they owed to the
tradesmen in the city, and to give up all places in the district
of Caux except Harfleur. The duchess of Somerset and Lord
Talbot remained as hostages ; and on the 10th of November,
1449, Charles entered Rouen in state, with the character of a
victor who knew how to use victory with moderation.

The battle of Formigny was at first very doubtful. In order
to get from Valognes to Bayeux and Caen the English had to
cross at the mouth of the Vire great sands which were passa
ble only at low tide. A weak body of French under command
of the count De Clermont had orders to cut them off from this
passage. The English, however, succeeded in forcing it; but
just as they were taking position, with the village of Formigny
to cover their rear, the constable De Richemont was seen com
ing up with three thousand men in fine order. The English
were already strongly intrenched, when the battle began.
"Let us go and look close in their faces, admiral," said the
constable to sire De Coetivi. "I doubt whether they will leave
their entrenchments," replied the admiral. "I vow to God
that with His grace they will not abide in them," rejoined the
constable ; and he gave orders for the most vigorous assault.
It lasted nearly three hours ; the English were forced to fly at
three points and lost 3700 men ; several of their leaders were
made prisoners; those who were left retired in good order;
Bayeux, Avranches, Caen, Falaise, and Cherbourg fell one
after the other into the hands of Charles VII. ; and by the end
of August, 1450, the whole of Normandy had been completely
won back by France.

The conquest of Guyenne, which was undertaken immediately
after that of Normandy, was at the outset more easy and more
speedy. Amongst the lords of southern France several hearty
patriots, such as John of Blois, count of Perigord, and Arnold
Amanieu, sire d' Albret, of their own accord began the strife,

HISTORY OP FRANCE. [CH. XXIT.

and on the 1st of November, 1450, inflicted a somewhat severe
reverse upon the English, near Blauquefort. In the spring of
the following year Charles VII. authorized the count of Armag-
nac to take the field, and sent Dunois to assume the com-
mand-in-chief . An army of twenty thousand men mustered
under his orders ; and, in the course of May, 1451, some of the
principal places of Guyenne, such as St Emilion, Blaye,
Fronsac, Bourg-en-Mer, Libourne, and Dax were taken by as
sault or capitulated. Bordeaux and Bayonne held out for
some weeks ; but, on the 12th of June, a treaty concluded be
tween Bordelese and Dunois secured to the three estates of the
district the liberties and privileges which they had enjoyed
under English supremacy ; and it was further stipulated that,
if by the 24th of June the city had not been succored by Eng
lish forces, the estates of Guyenne should recognize the sov
ereignty of King Charles. When the 24th of June came, a
herald went up to one of the towers of the castle and shouted :
"Succor from the king of England for them of Bordeaux I"
None replied to this appeal ; so Bordeaux surrendered, and on
the 29th of June Dunois took possession of it in the name of
the king of France. The siege of Bayonne, which was begun
on the 6th of August, came to an end on the 20th by means of
a similar treaty. Guyenne was thus completely won. But the
English still had a considerable following there. They had
held it for three centuries ; and they had always treated it well
in respect of local liberties, agriculture, and commerce. Charles
VII. , on recovering it, was less wise. He determined to es
tablish there forthwith the taxes, the laws, and the whole regi
men of northern France ; and the Bordelese were as prompt in
protesting against these measures as the king was in employ
ing them. In August, 1452, a deputation from the three es
tates of the province waited upon Charles at Bourges, but did
not obtain their demands. On their return to Bordeaux an
insurrection was organized ; and Peter de Montferrand, sire de
Lesparre, repaired to London and proposed to the English
government to resume possession of Guyenne. On the 22nd of
October, 1452, Talbot appeared before Bordeaux with a body of
five thousand men; the inhabitants opened their gates to him;
and he installed himself there as lieutenant of the king of Eng
land, Henry VI. Nearly all 'the places in the neighborhood,
with the exception of Bourg and Blaye, returned beneath the
sway of the English ; considerable reinforcements were sent to
Talbot from England; and at the same time an English fleet

CH. xxiv.} THE HUNDRED TEARff WAR. 299

threatened the coasts of Normandy. But Charles VII. was no
longer the blind and indolent king he had been in his youth.
Nor can the prompt and effectual energy he displayed in 1453
be any longer attributed to the influence of Agnes Sorel, for
she died on the 9th of February, 1450. Charles left Richemont
and Dunois to hold Normandy ; and, in the early days of
spring, moved in person to the south of France with a strong
army and the principal Gascon lords who two years previously
had brought Guyenne back under his power. On the 2nd of
June, 1453, he opened the campaign at St. Jean d' Angely.
Severel places surrendered to him as soon as he appeared be
fore their walls ; and on the 13th of July he laid siege to Cas-
tillon, on the Dordogne, which had shortly before fallen into
the hands of the English. The Bordelese grew alarmed and
urged Talbot to oppose the advance of the French. " We may
very well let them come nearer yet," said the old warrior, then
eighty years of age ; ' ' rest assured that, if it please God, I will
fulfil my promise when I see that the time and the hour have
come."

On the night between the 16th and 17th of July, however,
Talbot set out with his troops to raise the siege of Castillon.
He marched all night and came suddenly in the early morning
upon the French archers, quartered in an abbey, who formed
the advanced guard of their army which was strongly in
trenched before the place. A panic set in amongst this small
body, and some of them took to flight. "Ha! you would de
sert me then?" said sire de Rouault, who was in command of
them; "have I not promised you to live and die with you?"
They thereupon rallied and managed to join the camp. Tal
bot, content for the time with this petty success, sent for a
chaplain to come and say mass; and, whilst waiting for an
opportunity to resume the fight, he permitted the tapping of
some casks of wine which had been found in the abbey, and
his men set themselves to drinking. A countryman of those
parts came hurrying up and said to Talbot, " My lord, the
French are deserting their park and taking to flight ; now or
never is the time for fulfilling your promise." Talbot arose
and left the mass, shouting, " Never may I hear mass again if
I put not to rout the French who are in yonder park." When
he arrived in front of the Frenchmen's intrenchment, "My
lord," said Sir Thomas ^Cunningham, an aged gentleman who
had for a long time past been his standard-bearer, " they have
made a false report to you; observe the depth of the ditch and

POO HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. rnv.

the faces of yonder men; they don't look like retreating; my
opinion is that for the present we should turn back, the coun
try is for us, we have no lack of provisions, and with a little
patience we shall starve out the French." Talbot flew into a
passion, gave Sir Thomas a sword-cut across the face, had his
banner planted on the edge of the ditch, and began the attack.
The banner was torn down and Sir Thomas Cunningham killed,
"Dismount!" shouted Talbot to his men-at-arms, English and
Gascon. The French camp was defended by a more than us^
ually strong artillery ; a body of Bretons, held in reserve, ad
vanced to sustain the shock of the English ; and a shot from
a culverin struck Talbot, who was already wounded in the face,
shattered his thigh and brought him to the ground. Lord
Lisle, his son, flew to him to raise him. "Let me be," said
Talbot; " the day is the enemies'; it will be no shame for thee
to fly, for this is thy first battle." But the son remained with
his father and was slain at his side. The defeat of the Eng
lish was complete. Talbot's body, pierced with wounds, was
left on the field of battle. He was so disfigured that, when
the dead were removed, he was not recognized. Notice,
however, was taken of an old man wearing a cuirass covered
with red velvet ; this, it was presumed, was he ; and he was
placed upon a shield and carried iuto the camp. An English
herald came with a request that he might look for Lord Talbot's
body. " Would you know "him?" he was asked. "Take me to
see him," joyfully answered the poor servant, thinking that
his master was a prisoner and alive. When he saw him, he
hesitated to identify him; he knelt down, put his finger in the
mouth of the corpse and recognized Talbot by the loss of a
molar tooth. Throwing off immediately his coat-of-arms with
the colors and bearings of Talbot, "Ah! my lord and master,"
he cried, can this be verily you? May God forgive your sins!
For forty years and more I have been your officer-at-arms and
worn your livery, and thus I give it back to you!" And he
covered with his coat-of-arms the stark-stripped body of the
old hero.

The English being beaten and Talbot dead, Castillon surren
dered ; and at unequal intervals Libourne, St Emilion, Chateau-
Neuf de Medoc, Blanquefort, St. Macaire, Cadillac, &c., fol
lowed the example. At the commencement of October, 1453,
Bordeaux alone was still holding out. The promoters of the
insurrection which had been concerted with the English,
amongst others sires de Duras and de Lesparre, protracted the

on. xxiv.J TEE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 301

resistance rather in their own self-defence than in response to
the wishes of the population ; the king's artillery threatened
the place by land, and by sea a king's fleet from Rochelle and
the ports of Brittany blockaded the Gironde. " The majority
of the king's officers, " says the contemporary historian, Thomas
Basin, "advised him to punish by at least the destruction of
their walls the Bordelese who had recalled the English to their
city; but Charles, more merciful and more soft-hearted, re
fused." He confined himself to withdrawing from Bordeaux
her municipal priviliges which, however, she soon partially re
covered, and to imposing upon her a fine of a hundred thou
sand gold crowns, afterwards reduced to thirty thousand ; he
caused to be built at the expense of the city two fortresses, the
fort of the Ha and the castle of Trompette, to keep in check so
bold and fickle a population ; and an amnesty was proclaimed
for all but twenty specified persons who were banished. On
these conditions the capitulation was concluded and signed on
the 17th of October; the English re-embarked; and Charles,
without entering Bordeaux, returned to Touraine. The Eng
lish had no longer any possession in France but Calais and
Guines : the Hundred Years' War was over.

And to whom was the glory?

Charles VII. himself decided the question. When in 1455,
twenty-four years after the death of Joan of Arc, he at Rome
and at Rouen prosecuted her claims for restoration of charac
ter and did for her fame and her memory all that was still pos
sible ; he was but relieving his conscience from a load of ingrati
tude and remorse which in general weighs but lightly upon
men and especially upon kings; and he was discharging
towards the maid of Domremy the debt due by France and the
French kingship when he thus proclaimed that to Joan above
all they owed their deliverance and their independence. Be
fore men and before God Charles was justified in so thinking ;
the moral are not the sole, but they are the most powerful
forces which decide the fates of people ; and Joan had roused
the feelings of the soul and given to the struggles between
France and England its religious and national character. At
Rheims, when she repaired thither for the king's coronation,
she said to her own banner: " It has a right to the honor for
it has been at the pains." She, first amongst all, had a right
to the glory, for she had been the first to contribute to the
success.

Next to Joan of Arc, the constable De Richemont was the

802 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. XXIT.

most effective and the most glorious amongst the liberators of
France and of the king. He was a strict and stern warrior,
unscrupulous and pitiless towards his enemies, especially to
wards such as he despised, severe in regard to himself, digni
fied in his manners, never guilty of swearing himself and pun
ishing swearing as a breach of discipline amongst the troops
placed under his order. Like a true patriot and royalist he had
more at heart his duty towards France and the king than he
had his own personal interests. He was fond of war and con
ducted it bravely and skilfully without rashness but without
timidity: '"Wherever the constable is," said Charles VII.,
" there I am free from anxiety ; he will do all that is possible !"
He set his title and office of constable of France above his rank
as a great lord ; and when, after the death of his brother, Duke
Peter II., he himself became duke of Brittany, he always had
the constable's sword carried before him, saying, "I wish to
honor in my old age a function which did me honor in my
youth." His good services were not confined to the wars of his
time ; he was one of the principal reformers of the military
system in France by the substitution of regular troops for
feudal service. He has not obtained, it is to be feared, in the
history of the fifteenth century, the place which properly be
longs to him.

Dunois, La Hire, Xaintrailles, and marshals De Boussac and
De La Fayette were, under Charles VII. , brilliant warrors and
useful servants of the king and of France ; but, in spite of their
knightly renown, it is questionable if they can be reckoned,
like the constable De Richemont, amongst the liberators of
national independence. There are degrees of glory, and it is
the duty of history not to distribute it too readily and as it
were by handfuls.

Besides all these warriors, we meet, under the sway of
Charles VII., at first in a humble capacity and afterwards at
his court, in his diplomatic service and sometimes in his closest
confidence, a man of quite a different origin and quite another
profession, but one who nevertheless acquired by peaceful toil
great riches and great influence, both brought to a melancholy
termination by a conviction and a consequent ruin from which
at the approach of old age he was still striving to recover by
means of fresh ventures. Jacques Cceur was born at Bourges
at the close of the fourteenth century. His father was a
furrier, already sufficiently well established and sufficiently
rich to allow of his son's marrying, in 1418, the provost's

OB. XDV.) THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 303

daughter of his own city. Some years afterwards Jacques
Coeur underwent a troublesome trial for infraction of the rules
touching the coinage of money ; but thanks to a commutation
of the penalty, graciously accorded by Charles VII., he got off
with a fine, and from that time forward directed all his
energies toward commerce. In 1432, a squire in the service of
the duke of Burgundy was travelling in the Holy Land and7
met him at Damascus " in company with several Venetians,
Genoese, Florentine, and Catalan traders" with whom he was
doing business. " He was," says his contemporary, Thomas
Basin, "a man unlettered and of plebeian family, but of great
and ingenious mind, well versed in the practical affairs of that
age. He was the first in all France to build and man ships
which transported to Africa and the East woollen stuffs and
other produce of the kingdom, penetrated as far as Egypt, and
brought back with them silken stuffs all manner of spices
which they distributed not only in France, but in Catalonia
and the neighboring countries, whereas heretofore it was by
means of the Venetians, the Genoese, or the Barcelonese that
such supplies found their way into France,," Jacques Cceur,
temporarily established at Montpellier, became a great and a
celebrated merchant. In 1433 Charles VIL put into his hands
the direction of the mint at Paris, and began to take his advice
as to the admistration of the crown's finances,, In 1440 he was
appointed moneyman to the king, ennobled together with his
wife and children, commissioned soon afterwards to draw up
new regulations for the manufacture of cloth at Bourges, and
invested on his own private account with numerous commer
cial privileges. He had already at this period, it was said,
three hundred manufacturing hands in his employment, and
he was working at the same time silver, lead, and copper
mines situated in the environs of Tarare and Lyons. Between
1443 and 1446 he had one of his nephews sent as ambassador to
Egypt, and obtained for the French consul, in the Levant the
same advantages as were enjoyed by those of the most favored
nations* Not only his favor in the eyes of the king but his ad
ministrative and even his political appointments went on con
stantly increasing. Between 1444 and 1446 the king several
times named him one of his commissioners to the estates of
Languedoc and for the installation of the new parliament of
Toulouse. In 1446 he formed one of an embassy sent to Italy
to try and acquire for France the possession of Genoa, which
was harassed by civil dissensions. In 1447 he received from

304 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxnr.

Charles VII. a still more important commission, to bring about
an arrangement between the two popes elected, one under the
name of Felix V., and the other under that of Nicolas V. ; and
he was successful. His immense wealth greatly contributed
to his influence. M. Pierre Clement [Jacques Coeur et Charles
VII., ou la France au quinzieme siecle; t. ii. pp. 1—46] has
given a list of thirty-two estates and lordships which Jacques
Coeur had bought either in Berry or in the neighboring
provinces. He possessed, besides, four mansions and two
hostels at Lyons; mansions at Beaucaire, at Beziers, at St.
Pourcain, at Marseilles, and at Montpellier ; and he had built,
for his own residence, at Bourges, the celebrated hostel which
still exists as an admirable model of Gothic and national art in
the fifteenth century attempting combination with the art of
Italian renaissance. M. Clement, in his table of Jacques
Coeur's wealth, does not count either the mines which he
worked at various spots in France, nor the vast capital, un
known, which he turned to profit in his commercial enter
prises ; but, on the other hand, he names, with certrin et ceteras,
forty-two court-personages or king's officers indebted to
Jacques Coeur for large or smalls sums he had lent them. We
will quote but two instances of Jacques Coeur's financial con
nexion, not with courtiers, however, but with the royal family
and the king himself. Margaret of Scotland, wife of the
dauphin, who became Louis XL, wrote with her own hand on
the 20th of July, 1445: " We Margaret, dauphiness of Viennois,
do acknowledge to have received from Master Stephen Petit,
secretary of my lord the king and receiver-general of his
finances for Languedoc and Guienne, two thousand livres of
Tours, to us given by my said lord, and to us advanced by
the hands of Jacques Coeur, his moneyman, we being but
lately in Lorraine, for to get silken stuff and sables to make
robes for our person." In 1449, when Charles VII. determined
to drive the English from Normandy, his treasury was ex
hausted, and he had recourse to Jacques Coeur. " Sir," said
the trader to the king, " what I have is yours," and lent him
two hundred thousand crowns; "the effect of which was," says
Jacques Duclerq, " that during this conquest all the men-at-
arms of the king of France and all those who were in hie
service were paid their wages month by month."

An original document, dated 1450, which exists in the
" cabinet des titres" of the National Library, bears upon it a
receipt for 60,000 livres from Jacques Ctoeur to the king's re-

<JH. xxnr.J THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 305

ceiver-general in Normandy, "in restitution of the like sum
tent by me in ready money to the said lord in the month of
August last past, on occasion of the surrendering to his au
thority of the towns and castle of Cherbourg, at that time held
by the English, the ancient enemies of this realm." It was
probably a partial repayment of the two hundred thousand
crowns lent by Jacques Cceur to the king at this juncture, ac
cording to all the contemporary chroniclers.

Enormous and unexpected wealth excites envy and suspicion
at the same time that it confers influence ; and the envious be
fore long become enemies. Sullen murmurs against Jacques
Cceur were raised in the king's own circle ; and the way in
which he had begun to make his fortune, the coinage of ques
tionable money, furnished some specious ground for them.
There is too general an inclination amongst potentates of the
earth to give an easy ear to reasons, good or bad, for dispensing
with the gratitude and respect otherwise due to those who
serve them. Charles VII., after having long been the patron
and debtor of Jacques Cceur, all at once, in 1451, shared the
suspicions aroused against him. To accusations of grave abuses
and malversations in money matters was added one of even
more importance. Agnes Sorel had died eighteen months pre
viously [February 9th, 1450] ; and on her death-bed she had
appointed Jacques Cceur one of the three executors of her will.
In July, 1451, Jacques was at Taillebourg, in Guyenne, whence
he wrote to his wife that " he was in as good case and was as
well with the king as ever he had been, whatever anybody
might say." Indeed on the 22nd of July Charles VII. granted
him a " sum of 772 livres of Tours to help him to keep up his
condition and to be more honorably equipped for his service ; w
and, nevertheless, on the 31st of July, on the information of
two persons of the court, who accused Jacques Cceur of having
poisoned Agnes Sorel, Charles ordered his arrest and the seiz
ure of his goods, on which he immediately levied a hundred
thousand crowns for the purposes of the war. Commissioners-
extraordinary, taken from amongst the king's grand council,
were charged to try him; and Charles VII. declared, it is said,
that " if the said moneyman were not found liable to the charge
of having poisoned or caused to be poisoned Agnes Sorel, he
threw up and forgave all the other cases against him." The
accusation of poisoning was soon acknowledged to be false,
and the two informers were condemned as culminators ; but
the trial was nevertheless proceeded with. Jacques Cceur was

306 HISTORY OF FRANCS. ICH, mr.

accused " of having sold arms to the infidels, of having coined
light crowns, of having pressed on board of his vessels, at
Montpellier, several individuals, of whom one had thrown him
self into the sea from desperation, and lastly of having appro
priated to himself presents made to the king in several towns
of Languedoc, and of having practised in that country frequent
exaction, to the prejudice of the king as well as of his subjects."
After twenty-two months of imprisonment, Jacques Coeur, on
the 29th of May, 1453, was convicted, in the king's name, on
divers charges, of which several entailed a capital penalty;
but, " whereas Pope Nicholas V. had issued a rescript and made
request in favor of Jacques Coeur, and regard also being had to
services received from him," Charles VII. spared his life; "on
condition that he should pay to the king a hundred thousand
crowns by way of restitution, three hundred thousand by way
of fine, and should be kept in prison until the whole claim was
satisfied ;" and the decree ended as follows : c ' We have declared
and do declare all the goods of the said Jacques Coeur confis
cated to us, and we have banished and do banish this Jacques
Cceur forever from this realm, reserving thereanent our own
good pleasure,"

After having spent nearly three years more in prison, trans
ported from dungeon to dungeon, Jacques Coeur, thanks to the
faithful and zealous affection of a few friends, managed to es
cape from Beaucaire, to embark at Nice and to reach Rome,
where Pope Nicholas V. welcomed him with tokens of lively
interest. Nicholas died shortty afterwards, just when he was
preparing an expedition against the Turks. His successor,
Calixtus III., carried out his design and equipped a fleet of six
teen galleys. This fleet required a commander of energy, reso
lution, and celebrity. Jacques Coeur had lived and fought
with Dunois, Xaintrailles, La Hire, and the most valiant
French captains ; he was known and popular in Italy and the
Levant; and the pope appointed him captain-general of the
expedition. Charles VII. 's moneyman, ruined, convicted, and
banished from France, sailed away at the head of the pope^s
squadron and of some Catalan pirates to carry help against the
Turks to Rhodes, Chios, Lesbos, Lemnos, and the whole Grecian
archipelago. On arriving at Chios in November, 1456, he feD
ill there, and perceiving his end approaching he wrote to his
king "to commend to him his children and to beg that, con
sidering the great wealth and honors he had in his time en
joyed in the king's service, it might be the king's good pleasure

en. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 307

to give something to his children in order that they, even those
of them who were secular, might be able to live honestly, with
out coming to want. " He died at Chios on the 25th of Novem
ber, 1456, and, according to the historian John d'Auton, who
had probably lived in the society of Jacques Cceur's children,
" he remained interred in the church of the Cordeliers in that
island, at the centre of the choir."

We have felt bound to represent with some detail the active
and energetic life, prosperous for a long while and afterwards
so grievous and hazardous up to its very last day, of this great
French merchant at the close of the middle ages, who was the
first to extend afar in Europe, Africa, and Asia the commer
cial relations of France, and, after the example of the great
Italian merchants, to make an attempt to combine politics with
commerce, and to promote at one and the same time the mater
ial interests of his country and the influence of his government.
There can be no doubt but that Jacques Coeur was unscrupu
lous and frequently visionary as a man of business; but, at
the same time, he was inventive, able, and bold, and, whilst
pushing his own fortunes to the utmost, he contributed a great
deal to develope, in the ways of peace, the commercial, indus
trial, diplomatic, and artistic enterprise of France. In his re
lations towards his king, Jacques Coeur was to Charles VII. a
servant often over-adventurous, slippery, and compromising,
but often also useful, full of resource, efficient, and devoted in
the hour of difficulty. Charles VII. was to Jacques Coeur a
selfish and ungrateful patron who contemptuously deserted the
man whose brains he had sucked, and ruined him pitilessly
after having himself contributed to enrich him unscrupu
lously.

We have now reached the end of events under this long
reign ; all that remains is to run over the substantial results of
Charles VII. 's government and the melancholy imbroglios of
his latter years with his son, the turbulent, tricky, and wicked
ly able born-conspirator who was to succeed him under the
name of Louis XI.

One fact is at the outset to be remarked upon; it at the first
blush appears singular but it admits of easy explanation. In
the first nineteen years of his reign, from 1423 to 1442, Charles
VII, very frequently convoked the states-general, at one time
of northern France or Langue d'oil, at another of southern
Prance or Langue d'oc. Twenty-four such assemblies took
place during this period at Bourges, at Selles in Berry, at Lc

308 BISTORT OF FRANCS. [OH. XXIT.

Puy in Velay, at Meftn-sur-Y&vre, at Chinon, at SoHy-sur-
Loire, at Tours, at Orleans, at Nevers, at Carcassonne, and at
different spots in Languedoc. It was the time of the great war
between France on the one side and England and Burgundy
allied on the other, the time of intrigues incessantly recurring
at court, and the time likewise of carelessness and indolence
on the part of Charles VII,. more devoted to his pleasures than
regardful of his government. He had incessant need of states-
general to supply him with money and men and support
him through the difficulties of his position. But when, dating
from the peace of Arras (September 21, 1435), Charles VII.,
having become reconciled with the duke of Burgundy, was
deb* vered from civil war and was at grips with none but Eng
land alone, already half beaten by the divine inspiration, the
triumph, and the martyrdom of Joan of Arc, his posture and
his behavior underwent a rare transformation. Without
ceasing to be a coldly selfish and scandalously licentious kin£
he became a practical, hardworking, statesmanlike king,
jealous and disposed to govern by himself ; but at the same
time watchful and skilful in availing himself of the able ad
visers who, whether it were by a happy accident or by his own
choice, were grouped around him. "He had his days and
hours for dealing with all sorts of men, one hour with the
clergy, another with the nobles, another with foreigners,
another with mechanical folks, armorers, and gunners ; and in
respect of all these persons he had a full remembrance of their
cases and their appointed day. On Monday, Tuesday, and
Thursday he worked with the chancellor and got through all
claims connected with justice. On Wednesday he first of all
gave audience to the marshals, captains, and men of war. On
the same day he held a council of finance, independently of
another council which was also held on the same subject every
Friday." It was by such assiduous toil that Charles VII., in
concert with his advisers, was able to take in hand and ac
complish, in the military, financial, and judicial system of the
realm, those bold and at the same time prudent reforms which
wrested the country from the state of disorder, pillage, and
general insecurity to which it had been a prey, and commenced
the era of that great monarchical administration which, in
spite of many troubles and vicissitudes, was destined to be dur
ing more than three centuries the government of France. The
constable De Richemont and marshal De la Fayette were in re-
gpect of military matters Charles VII. 's principal advisers

CH. xxiv.] THE HUNDRED TEARS' WAR. 309

and it was by their counsel and with their co-operation that he
substituted for feudal service and for the bands of wandering
mercenaries (routiers), mustered and maintained by hap
hazard, a permanent army, regularly levied, provided for, paid
and commanded, and charged with the duty of keeping order
at home and at the same time subserving abroad the interests
and policy of the State. In connection with and as a natural
consequence of this military system Charles VII. on his own
sole authority established certain permanent imposts with the
object of making up any deficiency in the royal treasury whilst
waiting for a vote of such taxes extraordinary as might be de
manded of the states-general. Jacques Cceur, the two brothers
Bureau, Martin Gouge, Michel Lailler, William Cousinot, and
many other councillors, of burgher origin, labored zealously to
establish this administrative system, so prompt and freed from
all independent discussion. Weary of wars, irregularities, and
sufferings, France, in the fifteenth century, asked for nothing
but peace and security ; and so soon as the kingship showed
that it had an intention and was in a condition to provide her
with them, the nation took little or no trouble about political
guarantees which as yet it knew neither how to establish nor
how to exercise ; its right to them was not disputed in princi
ple, they were merely permitted to fall into desuetude; and
Charles VII., who during the first half of his reign had twenty-
four times assembled the states-general to ask them for taxes
and soldiers, was able in the second to raise personally both
soldiers and taxes without drawing forth any complaint hardly,
save from his contemporary historian, the bishop of Lisi-
eux, Thomas Basin, who said, "Into such misery and servitude
is fallen the realm of France, heretofore so noble and free, that
all the inhabitants are openly declared by the generals of
finance and their clerks taxable at the will of the king without
any body's daring to murmur or even ask for mercy." There
is at every juncture, and in all ages of the world, a certain
amount, though varying very much, of good order, justice, and
security, without which men cannot get on; and when they
lack it either through the fault of those who govern them or
through their own fault, they seek after it with the blind eyes
of passion and are ready to accept it, no matter what power
may procure it for them or what price it may cost them.
Charles VII. was a prince neither to be respected nor to be
loved, and during many years his reign had not been a pros
perous one; but "he re-quickened justice which had been a

310 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. XXIT,

long while dead," says a chronicler devoted to the duke of Bur
gundy; "he put an end to the tyrannies and exactions of the
men-at-arms, and out of an infinity of murderers and rohbers
he formed men of resolution and honest life ; he made regular
paths in murderous woods and forests, all roads safe, all towns
peaceful, all nationalities of his kingdom tranquil ; he chastised
the evil and honored the good, and he was sparing of human
blood."

Let it be added, in accordance with contemporary testimony,
that at the same time that he established an all but arbitrary
rule in military and financial matters, Charles VII. took care
that "practical justice, in the case of every individual, was
promptly rendered to poor as well as rich, to small as well as
great ; he forbade all trafficking in the offices of the magis
tracy, and every time that a place became vacant in a parlia
ment he made no nomination to it save on the presentations of
the court."

Questions of military, financial, and judicial organization
were not the only ones which occupied the government of
Charles VII. He attacked also ecclesiastical questions which
were at that period a subject of passionate discussion in Chris
tian Europe amongst the councils of the Church and in the
closets of princes. The celebrated ordinance, known by the
name of Pragmatic Sanction, which Charles VII. issued at
Bourges on the 7th of July, 1438, with the concurrence of a
grand national council, laic and ecclesiastical, was directed
towards the carrying out, in the internal regulations of the
French Church and in the relations either of the State with the
Church in France or of the Church of France with the papacy,
of reforms long since desired or dreaded by the different pow
ers and interests. It would be impossible to touch here upon
these difficult and delicate questions without going far beyond
the limits imposed upon the writer of this history. All that
can be said is that there was no lack of a religious spirit or of
a liberal spirit in the Pragmatic Sanction of Charles VII. , and
that the majority of the measures contained in it were adopted
with the approbation of the greater part of the French clergy
as well as of educated laymen in France.

In whatever light it is regarded, the government of Charles
VII. in the latter part of his reign brought him not only in
France but throughout Europe a great deal of fame and power.
When he had driven the English out of his kingdom, he was
called Charles the Victorious; and when he had introduced

OH. XXIY.] TEE HUNDRED TEAMS' WAR. 311

into 'the internal regulations of the State so many important
and effective reforms he was called Charles the Well-served.
"The sense he had by nature," says his historian Chastellain,
" had been increased to twice as much again, in his straight
ened fortunes, by long constraint and perilous dangers which
sharpened his wits perforce." " He is the king of kings," was
b&id of him by the doge of Venice, Francis Foscari, a goed
judge of policy ; " there is no doing without him."

Nevertheless, at the close, so influential and so tranquil, of
his reign, Charles VII. was in his individual and private life
the most desolate, the most harassed, and the most unhappy
man in his kingdom. In 1442 and 1450 he had lost the two
women who had been, respectively, the most devoted and most
useful and the most delightful and dearest to him, his mother-
in-law, Yolande of Arragon, queen of Sicily, and his favorite,
Agnes Sorel. His avowed intimacy with Agnes and even, in
dependently of her and after her death, the scandalous licen
tiousness of his morals had justly offended his virtuous wife,
Mary of Anjou, the only lady of the royal establishment who
survived him. She had brought him twelve children ; and the
eldest, the dauphin Louis, after having from his very youth be
haved in a factious, harebrained, turbulent way towards the
king his father, had become at one time an open rebel, at an
other a venomous conspirator and a dangerous enemy. At his
birth, in 1433, he had been named Louis in remembrance of
his ancestor St. Louis and in hopes that he would resemble
him. In 1440, at seventeen years of age, he allied himself with
the great lords, who were displeased with the new military sys
tem "established by Charles VII., and allowed himself to be
drawn by them into the transient rebellion known by the name
of PraguBry. When the king, having put it down, refused to
receive the rebels to favor, the dauphin said to his father, ' ' My
lord, I must go back with them, then; for so I promised them."
"Louis," replied the king, " the gates are open, and if they are
not high enough I will have sixteen or twenty fathom of wall
knocked down for you, that you may go whither it seems best
to you." Charles VII. had made his son marry Margaret
Stuart of Scotland, that charming princess who was so smitten
with the language and literature of France, that corning one
day upon the poet Alan Chartier asleep upon a bench, she
kissed him on the forehead in the presence of her mightily as
tonished train, for he was very ugly. The dauphin rendered
his wife so wretched that she died in 1445, at the age of one an<J

14 VOL. 2

312 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxrv.

twenty, with these words upon her lips, "Oh! fie on life!
Speak to me no more of it." In 1449, just when the king his
rather was taking up arms to drive the English out of Nor
mandy, the dauphin Louis, who was now living entirely in
Dauphiny, concluded at Briangon a secret league with the duke
of Savoy "against the ministers of the king of France, his ene
mies" In 1456, in order to escape from the perils brought upon
him by the plots which he in the heart of Dauphiny was inces
santly hatching against his father, Louis fled from Grenoble
and went to take refuge in Brussels with the duke of Burgundy,
Philip the Good, who willingly received him, at the same time
excusing himself to Charles VII. "on the ground of the respect
he owed to the son of his suzerain," and putting at the disposal
of Louis "his guest" a pension of thirty-six thousand livres.
" He has received the fox at his court," said Charles: "he will
soon see what will become of his chickens." But the pleasan
tries of the king did not chase away the sorrows of the father.
" Mine enemies have full trust in me," said Charles, " but my
son will have none. If he had but once spoken with me, he
would have known full well that he ought to have neither
doubts v nor fears. On my royal word, if he will but come to
me, when he has opened his heart and learned my intentions,
he may go away again whithersoever it seems good to him."
Charles, in his old age and his sorrow, forgot how distrustful
and how fearful he himself had been. "It is ever your pleas
ure, " wrote one of his councillors to him in a burst of frank
ness, "to be shut up in castles, wretched places, and all sorts
of little closets, without showing yourself and listening to the
complaints of your poor people." Charles VII. had shown
scarcely more confidence to his son than to his people. Louis
yielded neither to words, nor to sorrows of which proofs were
reaching him nearly every day. He remained impassive at
the duke of Burgundy's, where he seemed to be waiting with
scandalous indifference for the news of his father's death.
Charles sank into a state of profound melancholy and general
distrust. He had his doctor, Adam Fumee, put in prison ; per
suaded himself that his son had wished and was still wishing
to poison him ; and refused to take any kind of nourishment.
No representation, no solicitation could win him from his de
pression and obstinacy. It was in vain that Charles, duke of
Berry, his favorite child, offered to first taste the food set be
fore him. It was in vain that his servants "represented to
him with tears," says Bossuet, " what madness it was to cause

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XI. (1461—1488). 313

his own death for fear of dying; when at last he would have
made an effort to eat, it was too late and he must die." On
the 22nd of July, 1461, he asked what day it was, and was told
that it was St. Magdalen's day. "Ah !" said he, " I do laud my
God and thank Him for that it hath pleased Him that the most
sinful man in the world should die on the sinful woman's day!
Dampmartin," said he to the count of that name who was lean
ing over his bed, " I do beseech you that after my death you
will serve so far as you can the little lord, my son Charles."
He called his confessor, received the sacraments, gave orders
that he should be buried at St. Denis beside the king his father,
and expired. No more than his son Louis, though for different
reasons, was his wife, Queen Mary of Anjou, at his side. She
was living at Chinon, whither she had removed a long while
before by order of the king her husband. Thus, deserted by
them of his own household and disgusted with his own life,
died that king of whom a contemporary chronicler, whilst re
commending his soul to God, remarked, " When he was alive,
he was a right wise and valiant lord, and he left his kingdom
united and in good case as to justice and tranquillity."

CHAPTER XXV.
LOUIS xi. (1461—1483).

Louis XI. was thirty-eight years old and had been living for
five years in voluntary exile at the castle of Genappe, in Hain-
alt,' beyond the dominions of the king his father and within
those of Philip the Good, duke of Burgundy, when on the 23rd
of July, 1461, the day after Charles VII. 's death, he learned
that he was king of France. He started at once to return to
his own country and take possession of his kingdom. He ar
rived at Rheims on the 14th of August, was solemnly crowned
there on the 18th in the presence of the two courts of France
and Burgundy, and on the 30th made his entry into Paris,
within which he had not set foot for six and twenty years. In
1482, twenty-one years afterwards, he sick and almost dying
in his turn at his castle of Plessis-les-Tours, went, nevertheless,
to Amboise, where his son the dauphin, who was about to be-
oome Charles VIII., and whom he had not seen for several

814 HISTORY Of FRANCE. [OH.

years, was living. " I do expressly enjoin upon you," said the
father to the son, " as my last counsel and my last instructions
not to change a single one of the chief officers of the crown.
When my father, king Charles VII., went to God and I myself
came to the throne, I disappointed [i.e. deprived of their ap
pointments] all the good and notable knights of the kingdom
who had aided and served my said father in conquering Nor
mandy and Guienne, in driving the English out of the king
dom, and in restoring it to peace and good order, for so I found
it and right rich also. Therefrom much mischief came to me,
for thence I had the war called the Common Weal, which all
but cost me my crown."

With the experience and paternal care of an old man whom
the near prospect of death rendered perfectly disinterested,
wholly selfish as his own life had been, Louis' heart was bent
upon saving his son from the first error which he himself had
committed on mounting the throne. "Gentlemen," said Du-
nois on rising from table at the funeral-banquet held at the
abbey of St. Denis in honor of the obsequies of King Charles
VII., " we have lost our master; let each look after himself."
The old warrior foresaw that the new reign would not be like
that which had just ended. Charles VII. had been a prince of
indolent disposition, more inclined to pleasure than ambition,
whom the long and severe trials of his life had moulded to
government without his having any passion for governing,
and who had become in a quiet way a wise and powerful king
without any eager desire to be incessantly and every where
chief actor and master. His son Louis, on the contrary, was
completely possessed with a craving for doing, talking, agita
ting, domineering, and reaching, no matter by what means,
the different and manifold ends he proposed to himself. Any
thing but prepossessing in appearance, supported on long and
thin shanks, vulgar in looks and often designedly ill-dressed,
and undignified in his manners though haughty in mind, he
was powerful by the sheer force of a mind marvellously lively,
subtle, unerring, ready, and inventive, and of a character in-
defatigably a,ctive and pursuing success as a passion without
any scruple or embarrassment in the employment of means.
His contemporaries, after observing his reign for some time,
gave him the name of the universal spider, so relentlessly did
he labor to weave a web of which he himself occupied the cen
ter and extended the filaments in all directions.

As soon as he was king, he indulged himself with that first

CH. XXY,] LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 315

piece of vindictive satisfaction of which he was in his last mo
ments obliged to acknowledge the mistake. At Eheims, at
the time of his coronation, the aged and judicious Duke Philip
of Burgundy had begged him to forgive all those who had
offended him. Louis promised to do so, with the exception,
however, of seven persons whom he did not name. They were
the most faithful and most able advisers of the king his father,
those who had best served Charles VII. even in his embroil
ments with the dauphin, his conspiring and rebellious son,
viz. Anthony de Chabannes, count of Dampmartin, Peter de
Breze, Andrew de Laval, Juvenal des Ursins, &c. Some lost
their places and were even, for a while, subjected to persecu
tion ; the others, remaining still at court, received there many
marks of the king's disfavor. On the other hand, Louis made
a show of treating graciously the men who had most incurred
and deserved disgrace at his father's hands, notably the duke
of Alengon and the count of Armagnac. Nor was it only in
respect of persons that he departed from paternal tradition;
he rejected it openly in the case of one of the most important
acts of Charles VII. 's reign, th<j Pragmatic Sanction, issued by
that prince at Bourges in 1438, touching the internal regulations
of the Church of France and its relations towards the papacy.
The popes, and especially Pius II., Louis XL's contemporary,
had constantly and vigorously protested against that act.
Barely four months after his accession, on the 27th of Novem
ber, 1461, Louis, in order to gain favor with the pope, abrogated
the Pragmatic Sanction, and informed the pope of the fact in
a letter full of devotion. There was great joy at Rome, and
the pope replied to the king's letter in the strongest terms
of gratitude and commendation. But Louis' courtesy had not
been so disinterested as it was prompt. He had hoped that
Pius II. would abandon the cause of Ferdinand of Arragon, a
claimant to the throne of Naples, and would uphold that of his
rival, the French prince, John of Anjou, duke of Calabria,
whose champion Louis had declared himself. He bade his
ambassador at Rome to remind the pope of the royal hopes.
" You know," said the ambassador to Pius II., "it is only on
this condition that the king, my master abolished the Pragma
tic ; he was pleased to desire that in his kingdom full obedience
should be rendered to you; he demands, on the other hand,
that you should be pleased to be a friend to France ; otherwise,
I have orders to bid all the French cardinals withdraw, and
you cannot doubt but that they will obey." But Pius II. was

316 BISTORT OF FRANCE. (OH. xrv,

more proud than Louis XI. dared to be imperious. He an
swered, " We are under very great obligations to the king of
France, but that gives him no right to exact from us things
contrary to justice and to our honor; we have sent aid to Fer
dinand by virtue of the treaties we have with him; let the king
your master compel the duke of Anjou to lay down arms and
prosecute his rights by course of justice; and if Ferdinand
refuse to submit thereto we will declare against him; but we
cannot promise more. If the French who are at our court
wish to withdraw, the gates are open to them. " The king, a
little ashamed at the fruitlessness of his concession and of his
threat, had for an instant some desire to re-establish the Prag
matic Sanction, for which the Parliament of Paris had taken
up the cudgels ; but, all considered, he thought it better to put
up in silence with his rebuff and pay the penalty for a rash
concession than to get involved with the court of Rome in a
struggle of which he could not measure the gravity ; and he
contented himself with letting the Parliament maintain in
principle and partially keep up the Pragmatic. This was his
first apprenticeship in that outward resignation and patience,
amidst his own mistakes, of which he was destined to be called
upon more than once in the course of his life to make a humble
but skilful use.

At the same tune that at the pinnacle of government and in
his court Louis was thus making his power felt and was en
gaging a new set of servants, he was zealously endeavoring to
win over every where the middle classes and the populace.
He left Rouen in the hands of its own inhabitants; in Guienne,
in Auvergne, at Tours, he gave the burgesses authority to
assemble, and his orders to the royal agents were, " Whatever
is done see that it be answered for unto us by two of the most
notable burgesses of the principal cities." At Reims the rumor
ran that under King Louis there would be no more tax or
talliage. When deputations went before him to complain of
the weight of imposts, he would say, "I thank you, my dear
and good friends, for making such remonstrances to me; I
have nothing more at heart than to put an end to all sorts of
exactions and to re-establish my kingdom in its ancient liber
ties. I have just been passing five years in the countries of my
uncle of Burgundy ; and there I saw good cities mighty rich
and full of inlwibitants, ami folks well clad, well housed, wefi
off, lacking nothing; ine commerce there is great, and the
communes there have fine privileges. When I came into my

dH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 317

own kingdom I saw on the contrary, houses in ruins, fields
without tillage, men and women in rags, faces pinched and
pale. It is a great pity, and my soul is filled with sorrow at
it. All my desire is to apply a remedy thereto, and, with God's
help, we will bring it to pass." The good folks departed
charmed with such familiarity, so prodigal of hope ; but facts
before long gave the lie to words. " When the time came for
renewing at Rheims the claim for local taxes, the people showed
opposition and all the papers were burned in the open street.
The king employed strategem. In order not to encounter
overt resistance, he caused a large number of his folks to
disguise themselves as tillers or artisans ; and so entering the
town they were masters of it before the people could think of
defending themselves. The ringleaders of the rebellion were
drawn and quartered, and about a hundred persons were
beheaded or hanged. At Angers, at Alengon, and at Aurillac
there were similar outbursts similarly punished." From that
moment it was easy to prognosticate that with the new king
familiarity would not prevent severity or even cruelty. Ac
cording to the requirements of the crisis Louis had no more
hesitation about violating than about making promises ; and,
all the while that he was seeking after popularity, he intended
to make his power felt at any price.

How could he have done without heavy imposts and sub
mission on the part of the taxpayers? For it was not only at
home in his own kingdom that he desired to be chief actor and
master. He pushed his ambition and his activity abroad into
divers European States. In Italy he had his own claimant to
the throne of Naples in opposition to the king of Arragon's,
In Spain the kings of Arragon and of Castile were in a state of
rivalry and war. A sedition broke out in Catalonia. Louis
XI. lent the king of Arragon three hundred and fifty thous
and golden crowns to help him in raising eleven hundred
lances and reducing the rebels. Civil war was devastating
England. The houses of York and Lancaster were disputing
the crown. Louis XI. kept up relations with both sides ; and,
without embroiling himself with duke of York, who became
Edward IV., he received at Chinon the heroic Margaret of
Anjou, wife of Henry VI., and lent twenty thousand pounds
sterling to that prince, then disthroned, who undertook either
to repay them within a year or to hand over Calais, when he
was re-established upon his throne, to the king of France. In
the same way John II., king of Arragon, had put Roussillon

318 HISTORY OF FRANCE. , [OH. XXT.

and Cerdagne into the hands of Louis XI., as a security for
the loan of three hundred and fifty thousand crowns he had
borrowed. Amidst all the plans and enterprises of his per
sonal ambition Louis was seriously concerned for the greatness
of France ; but he drew upon her resources and compromised
her far beyond what was compatible with her real interests,
by mixing himself up at every opportunity and by every sort
of intrigue with the affairs and quarrels of the kings and peoples
around him.

In France itself he had quite enough of questions to be
solved and perils to be surmounted to absorb and satisfy the
most vigilant and most active of men. Four princes, of very
unequal power, but all eager for independence and prepond
erance, viz. Charles, duke of Berry, his brother; Francis II.,
duke of Brittany; Philip the Good, duke of Burgundy, his
uncle; and John duke of Bourbon, his brother-in-law, were
vassals whom he found very troublesome and ever on the point
of becoming dangerous. It was not long before he had a proof
of it. In 1463, two years after Louis' accession, the duke of
Burgundy sent one of his most trusty servants, John of Croy,
sire de Chimay, to complain of certain royal acts, contrary, he
said, to the treaty of Arras, which, in 1435, had regulated the
relations between Burgundy and the crown. The envoy had
great difficulty in getting audience of the king, who would not
even listen for more than a single moment, and that as he was
going out of his room when, almost without heeding, he said
abruptly, "What manner of man, then, is this duke of Bur
gundy? Is he of other metal than the other lords of the
realm?" "Yes, sir," replied Chimay, " he is of other metal;
for he protected you and maintained you against the will of
your father King Charles and against the opinion of all those
who were opposed to you in the kingdom, which no other
prince ot lord would have dared to do." Louis went back into
his room without a word. "How dared you speak so to the
king?" said Dunois to Chimay. "Had I been fifty leagues
away from here," said the Burgundian, "and had I thought
that the king had an idea only of addressing such words to me,
I would have come back express to speak to him as I have
spoken." The duke of Brittany was less puissant and less
proudly served than the duke of Burgundy ; but, being vain
and inconsiderate, he was incessantly attempting to exalt
himself above his condition of vassal and to raise his duchy
into a sovereignty, and when his pretensions were rejected he

CH. xxv. J LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 319

entered, at one time with the king of England, and at another
with the duke of Burgundy and the malcontents of France,
upon intrigues which amounted very nearly to treason against
the king suzerain. Charles, Louis' younger brother, was a
soft and mediocre but jealous and timidly ambitious prince;
he remembered, moreover, the preference and the wishes
manifested on his account by Charles VII., their common
father, on his death-bed, and he considered his position as duke
of Berry very inferior to the hopes he believed himself entitled
to nourish. Duke John of Bourbon, on espousing a sister of
Louis XI. , had flattered himself that this marriage and the re
membrance of the valor he had displayed in 1450, at the battle
of Formigny, would be worth to him at least the sword of
constable ; but Louis had refused to give it him. When all
these great malcontents saw Louis' popularity on the decline
and the king engaged abroad in divers political designs full of
onerousness or embarrassment, they considered the moment to
have come and, and the end of 1464, formed together an
alliance " for to remonstrate with the king," says Commynes,
"upon the bad order and injustice he kept up in his kingdom,
considering themselves strong enough to force him if he would
not mend his ways ; and this war was called the common weal,
because it was undertaken under color of being for the com
mon weal of the kingdom, the which was soon converted into
private weal." The aged duke of Burgundy, sensible and
weary as he was, gave only a hesitating and slack adherence
to the league ; but his son Charles, count of Charolais, entered
into it passionately, and the father was no more in a condition
to resist his son than he was inclined to follow him. The
number of the declared malcontents increased rapidly; and
the chiefs received at Paris itself, in the church of Notre
Dame, the adhesion and the signatures of those who wished to
join them. They all wore, for recognition's sake, a band of
red silk round their waists, and, "there were more than five
hundred," says Oliver de la Marche, a confidential servant of
the count of Charolais, "princes as well as knights, dames,
damsels, and esquires, who were well acquainted with this
alliance without the king's knowing any thing as yet about
it."

It is difficult to believe the chronicler's last assertion. Louis
XI., it is true, was more distrustful than farsighted, and,
though he placed but little reliance in his advisers and ser
vants, he had so much confidence in himself, his own saga-

320 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH.

city, and his own ability, that he easily deluded himself about
the perils of his position ; but the facts which have just been set
forth were too serious and too patent to have escaped his
notice. However that may be, he had no sooner obtained a
clear insight into the league of the princes than he set to work
with his usual activity and knowledge of the world to check
mate it. To rally together his own partisans and to separate
his foes, such was the two-fold end he pursued, at first with
some success. In a meeting of the princes which was held at
Tours, and in which friends and enemies were still mingled to
gether, he used language which could not fail to meet their
views. " He was powerless," he said, " to remedy the evils of
the kingdom without the love and fealty of the princes of the
blood and the other lords ; they were the pillars of the State ;
without their help one man alone could not bear the weight of
the crown." Many of those present declared their fealty.
" You are our king, our sovereign lord," said King Rene, duke
of Anjou; " we thank you for the kind, gracious, and honest
words you have just used to us. I say to you, on behalf of all
our lords here present, that we will serve you in respect of and
against every one, according as it may please you to order
us." Louis, by a manifesto, addressed himself also to the good
towns and to all his kingdom. He deplored therein the entice
ments which had been suffered to draw away a his brother the
duke of Berry and other princes, churchmen, and nobles, who
would never have consented to this league if they had borne in
mind the horrible calamities of the kingdom, and especially
the English, those ancient enemies, who might well come down
again upon it as heretofore. . . . They proclaim," said he,
44 that they will abolish the imposts; that is what has always
been declared by the seditious and rebellious ; but, instead of
relieving, they ruin the poor people. Had I been willing to
augment their pay and permit them to trample their vassals
under foot as in time past, they would never have given a
thought to the common weal. They pretend that they desire
to establish order every where, and yet they cannot endure it
any where ; whilst I, without drawing from my people more
than was drawn by the late king, pay my men-at-arms well
and keep them in a good state of discipline."

Louis, in his latter words, was a little too boastful. He had
very much augmented the imposts without assembling the
estates and without caring for the old public liberties. If he
frequently repressed local tyranny on the part of the lords, he

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 321

did not deny himself the practice of it. Amongst other tastes,
he was passionately fond of the chase ; and, wherever he lived,
he put it down amongst his neighbors, noble or other, without
any regard for rights of lordship. Hounds, hawking birds,
nets, snares, all the implements of hunting were forbidden.
He even went so far, it is said, on one occasion, as to have two
gentlemen's ears cut off for killing a hare on their own prop
erty. Nevertheless, the publication of his manifesto did him
good service. Auvergne, Dauphiny. Languedoc, Lyon, and
Bordeaux turned a deaf ear to all temptations from the league
of princes. Paris, above all, remained faithful to the king.
Orders were given at the Hotel de Ville that the principal
gates of the city should be walled up and that there should
be a night-watch on the ramparts; and the burgesses were
warned to lay in provision of arms and victual, Marshal
Joachim Rouault, lord of Gamaches, arrived at Paris on the
30th of June, 1465, at the head of a body of men-at-arms to
protect the city against the count of Charolais who was com
ing up; and the king himself, not content with despatching
four of his chief officers to thank the Parisians for their loyal
zeal, wrote to them that he would send the queen to lie in at
Paris, ' ' the city he loved most in the world. "

Louis would have been glad to have nothing to do but to
negotiate and talk. Though he was personally brave, he did
not like war and its unforeseen issues. He belonged to the
class of ambitious despots who prefer stratagem to force. But
the very ablest speeches and artifices, even if they do not re
main entirely fruitless, are not sufficient to reduce matters
promptly to order when great interests are threatened, pas
sions violently excited, and factions let loose in the arena.
Between the League of the Common Weal and Louis XI. there
was a question too great to be, at the very outset, settled
peacefully. It was feudalism in decline at grips with the
kingship which had been growing greater and greater for two
centuries. The lords did not trust the king's promises ; and
one amongst those lords was too powerful to yield without a
fight. At the beginning Louis had, in Auvergne and in Berry
some successes which decided a few of the rebels, the most in
significant, to accept truces and enter upon parleys; but the
great princes, the dukes of Burgundy, Brittany, and Berry,
waxed more and more angry. The aged duke of Burgundy,
Philip the Good himself, sobered and wearied as he was, threw
himself passionately into the struggle. " Go," said he to hia

822 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. XXT.

son, Count Charles of Charolais, "maintain thine honor well,
and, if thou have need of a hundred thousand more men to
deliver thee from difficulty, I myself will lead them to thee."
Charles marched promptly on Paris. Louis, on his side, moved
thither, with the design and in the hope of getting in there
without fighting. But the Burgundians, posted at St. Denis
and the environs, barred his approach. His seneschal, Peter
de Breze, advised him to first attack the Bretons who were ad
vancing to join the Burgundians. Louis, looking at him
somewhat mistrustfully, said, " You, too, sir seneschal, have
signed this League of the Common Weal." "Ay, sir," an
swered Breze, with a laugh, "they have my signature, but
you have myself." " Would you be afraid to try conclusions
with the Burgundians?" continued the king. "Nay, verily,"
replied the seneschal; " I will let that be seen in the first bat
tle." Louis continued his march on Paris. The two armies
met at Montlhery, on the 16th of July, 1465. Breze, who com
manded the king's advance-guard, immediately went into ac
tion and was one of the first to be killed. Louis came up to
his assistance with troops in rather loose order; the affair be
came hot and general ; the French for a moment wavered, and
a rumor ran through the ranks that the king had just been
killed. "No, my friends," said Louis, taking off his helmet,
"no, I am not dead: defend your king with good courage."
The wavering was transferred to the Burgundians. Count
Charles himself was so closely pressed that a French man at-
arnis laid his hand on him, saying, "Yield you, my lord; I
know you well; let not yourself be slain." " A rescue!" cried
Charles; "I'll not leave you, my friends, unless by death: I
am here to live and die with you." He was wounded by a
sword-thrust which entered his neck between his helmet and
his breast-plate, badly fastened. Disorder set in on both sides,
without cither's being certain how things were, or being able
to consider itself victorious. Night came on ; and French and
Burgundians encamped before Montlhery. The count of Cha
rolais sat down on two heaps of straw and had his wound
dressed. Around him were the stripped corpses of the slain.
As they were being moved to make room for him, a poor
wounded creature, somewhat revived by the motion, recov
ered consciousness and asked for a drink. The count made
them pour down his throat a drop of his own mixture, for he
never drank wine. The wounded man came completely to
himself and recovered. It was one of the archers of his guard.

CH. XXY.J LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 323

Next day news was brought to Charles that the Bretons were
coming up with their own duke, the duke of Berry, and Count
Dunois at their head. He went as far as Etampes to meet them
and informed them of what had just happened. The duke of
Berry was very much distressed ; it was a great pity, he said,
that so many people had been killed ; he heartily wished that
the war had never been begun. * * Did you hear, " said the count
of Charolais to his servants, " how yonder fellow talks? He is
upset at the sight of seven or eight hundred wounded men
going about the town, folks who are nothing to him and whom
he does not even know ; he would be still more upset if the
matter touched him nearly; he is just the sort of fellow to
readily make his own terms and leave us stuck in the mud ;
we must secure other friends." And he forthwith made one
of his people post off to England to draw closer the alliance
between Burgundy and Edward IV.

Louis, meanwhile, after passing a day at Corbeil, had once
more, on the 18th of July, entered Paris, the object of his chief
solicitude. He dismounted at his lieutenant's, the sire de
Melun's, and asked for some supper. Several persons, bur
gesses and their wives, took supper with him. He excited
their lively interest by describing to them the battle of Montl-
hery, the danger he had run there and the scenes which had
been enacted, adopting at one time a pathetic and at another a
bantering tone, and exciting by turns the emotion and the
laughter of his audience. In three days, he said, he would
return to fight his enemies, in order to finish the war ; but he
had not enough of men-at-arms and all had not at that mo
ment such good spirits as he. He passed a fortnight in Paris,
devoting himself solely to the task of winning the hearts of
the Parisians, reducing imposts, giving audience to every
body, lending a favorable ear to every opinion offered him,
making no inquiry as to who had been more or less faithful to
him, showing clemency without appearing to be aware of it,
and not punishing with severity even those who had served as
guides to the Burgundians in the pillaging of the villages
around Paris. A crier of the Chatelet, who had gone crying
about the streets the day on which the Burgundians attacked
the gate of St. Denis, was sentenced only to a month's imprison
ment, bread and water, and a flogging. He was marched
through the city in a nightman's cart; and the king, meeting
the procession, called out, as he passed, to the executioner,
" Strike hard, and spare not that ribald ; he has well deserved it.n

324 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxv.

Meanwhile the Burgundians were approaching Paris and
pressing it more closely every day. Their different allies in
the League were coming up with troops to join them, includ
ing even some of those who, after having suffered reverses in
Auvergne, had concluded truces with the king. The forces
scattered around Paris amounted, it is said, to fifty thousand
men, and occupied Charenton, Conflans, St. Maur, and St.
Denis, making ready for a serious attack upon the place.
Louis, notwithstanding his firm persuasion that things always
went ill wherever he was not present in person, left Paris for
Rouen to call out and bring up the regulars and reserves of
Normandy. In his absence, interviews and parleys took place
between besiegers and besieged. The former found partisans
amongst the inhabitants of Paris, in the Hotel de Ville itself.
The count de Dunois made, capital of all the grievances of the
League against the king's government, and declared that, if
the city refused to receive the princes, the authors of this re
fusal would have to answer for whatever misery, loss, and
damage might come of it ; and, in spite of all efforts on the
part of the king's officers and friends, some wavering y^as
manifested in certain quarters. But there arrived from Nor
mandy considerable reinforcements, announcing the early
return of the king. And, in fact, he entered Paris on the 28th
of August, the mass of the people testifying their joy and
singing "Noel." Louis made as if he knew nothing of what
had happened in his absence and gave nobody a black look ;
only four or five burgusses, too much compromised by their
relations with the besiegers, were banished to Orleans. Sharp
skirmishes were frequent all around the place; there was
cannonading on both sides ; and some balls from Paris came
tumbling about the quarters of the count of Charolais and
killed a few of his people before his very door. But Louis did
not care to risk a battle. He was much impressed by the
enemy's strength and by the weakness of which glimpses had
been seen in Paris during his absence. Whilst his men of war
were fighting here and there, he opened negotiations. Local
and temporary truces were accepted, and agents of the king
had conferences with others from the chiefs of the League.
The princes showed so exacting a spirit that there was no
treating on such conditions; and Louis determined to see
whether he could not succeed better than his agents. He had
an interview of two hours' duration in front of the St. Anthony
gate, with the count of St. Pol, a confidant of the count of

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 325

Charolais. On his return he found before the gate some bur
gesses waiting for news. "Well, my friends," said he, "the
Burgundians will not give you so much trouble any more as
they have given you in the past." "That is all very well,
sir," replied an attorney of the Chatelet, " but meanwhile they
eat our grapes and gather our vintage without any hindrance."
"Still," said the king, "that is better than if they were to
come and drink your wine in your cellars." The month of
September passed thus in parleys without result. Bad news
came from Eouen ; the League had a . party in that city.
Louis felt that the count of Charolais was the real head of the
opposition and the only one with whom any thing definite
could be arrived at. He resolved to make a direct attempt
upon him; for he had confidence in the influence he could
obtain over people when he chatted and treated in person with
them. One day he got aboard of a little boat with five of his
officers, and went over to the left bank of the Seine. There
the count of Charolais was awaiting him. "Will you insure
me, brother?" said the king, as he stepped ashore " Yes, my
lord, as a brother," said the count. The king embraced him
and went on ; "I quite see, brother, that you are a gentleman
and of the house of France." "How so my lord? " " When I
sent my ambassadors lately [in 1464] to Lille on an errand to
my uncle your father and yourself, and when my chancellor,
that fool of a Morvilliers, made you such a fine speech, you
sent me word by the archbishop of Narbonne that I should
repent me of the words spoken to you by that Morvilliers, and
that before a year was over. Paques-Dieu, you've kept your
promise and before the end of the year has come. I like to have
to do with folks who hold to what they promise." This he said
laughingly, knowing well that this language was just the sort
of flattery to touch the count of Charolais. They walked for a
long while together on the river's bank, to the great curiosity
of their people who were surprised to see them conversing on
such good terms. They talked of possible conditions of peace,
both of them displaying considerable pliancy, save the king
touching the duchy of Normandy, which he would not at any
price, he said, confer on his brother the duke of Berry, and
the count of Charolais touching his enmity towards the house
of Croy, with which he was determined not to be reconciled.
At parting, the king invited the count to Paris, where he
would make him great cheer. "My lord," said Charles, "I
have made a vow not to enter any good town until my return."

526 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxv,

The king smiled ; gave fifty golden crowns for distribution, to
drink his health, amongst the count's archers, and once more
got aboard of his boat. Shortly after getting back to Paris he
learned that Normandy was lost to him. The widow of the
seneschal, De Breze, lately killed at Montlhe>y, forgetful of all
the king's kindnesses and against the will of her own son, whom
Louis had appointed seneschal of Normandy after his father's
death, had just handed over Rouen to the duke of Bourbon,
one of the most determined chiefs of the League. Louis at
once took his course. He sent to demand an interview with
the count of Charolais, and repaired to Conflans with a
hundred Scots of his guard. There was a second edition of
the walk together. Charles knew nothing as yet about the
surrender of Rouen ; and Louis lost no time in telling him of it
before he had leisure for reflection and for magnifying his
pretensions. "Since the Normans," said he, "have of them
selves felt disposed for such a novelty, so be it! I should
never of my own free will have conferred such an appanage on
my brother; but as the thing is done, I give my consent."
And he at the same time assented to all the other conditions
which had formed the subject of conversation.

In proportion to the resignation displayed by the king was
the joy of the count of Charolais at seeing himself so near to
peace. Every thing was going wrong with his army; pro
visions were short ; murmurs and dissensions were setting in ;
and the League of common- weal was on the point of ending
in a shameful catastrophe. While strolling and conversing
with cordiality the two princes kept advancing towards Paris.
Without noticing it, they passed within the entrance of a
strong palisade which the king had caused to be erected in
front of the city -walls, and which marked the boundary-line.
All on a sudden they stopped, both of them disconcerted. The
Burgundian found himself within the hostile camp; but he
kept a good countenance and simply continued the conversa
tion. Amongst his army, however, when he was observed to
be away so long, there was already a feeling of deep anxiety.
The chieftains had met together. "If this young prince,"
said the marshal of Burgundy, "has gone to his own ruin like
a fool, let us not ruin his house. Let every man retire to hia
quarters and hold himself in readiness without disturbing
himself about what may happen. By keeping together we are
in a condition to fall back on the marches of Hainault,
Picardy, or Burgundy." The veteran warrior mounted his

OH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 327

horse and rode forward in the direction of Paris to see whether
Count Charles were coming back or not. It was not long
before he saw a troop of forty or fifty horse moving towards
him. They were the Burgundian prince and an escort of the
king's own guard. Charles dismissed the escort and came up
to the marshal, saying, " Don't say a word; I acknowledge my
folly; but I saw it too late; I was already close to the works."
" Every body can see that I was not there," said the marshal;
"if I had been, it would never have happened. You know,
your highness that I am only on loan to you, as long as your
father lives." Charles made no reply and returned to his own
camp, where all congratulated him and rendered homage to
the king's honorable conduct.

Negotiations for peace were opened forthwith. There was no
difficulty about them. Louis was ready to make sacrifices as
soon as he recognized the necessity for them, being quite de
termined, however, in his heart to recall them as soon as
fortune came back to him. Two distinct treaties were con
cluded : one at Conflans on the 5th of October, 1465, between
Louis and the count of Charolais ; and the other at St. Maur
on the 29th of October, between Louis and the other princes
of the League. By one or the other of the treaties the king
granted nearly every demand that had been made upon him;
to the count of Charolais he gave up all the towns of import
ance in Picardy ; to the duke of Berry he gave the duchy of
Normandy, with entire sovereignty; and the other princes,
independently of the different territories that had been con
ceded to them, all received large sums in ready money. The
conditions of peace had already been agreed to when the
Burgundians went so far as to summon, into the bargain, the-
strong place of Beauvais. Louis quietly complained to Charles,
" If you wanted this town," said he, " you should have asked
me for it, and I would have given it to you ; but peace is
made, and it ought to be observed." Charles openly disavowed
the deed. When peace was proclaimed, on the 30th of October,
the king went to Vincennes to receive the homage of his
brother Charles for the duchy of Normandy, and that of the
count of Charolais for the lands of Picardy. The count asked
the king to give up to him "for that day the castle of Vin
cennes for the security of all." Louis made no objection; and
the gate and apartments of the castle were guarded by the
count's own people. But the Parisians, whose favor Louis had
were alarmed on his account. Twenty-two thousand

S28 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH.

men of city militia marched towards the outskirts of Vincennes
and obliged the king to return and sleep at Paris. He went
almost alone to the grand review which the count of Charolais
held of his army before giving the word for marching away,
passed from rank to rank speaking graciously to his late
enemies. The king and the count, on separating, embraced
one anothor, the count saying in a loud voice, "Gentlemen^
you and I are at the command of the king my sovereign lord,
who is here present, to serve him whensoever there shall be
need." When the treaties of Conflans and St. Maur were put
before the parliament to be registered, the parliament at first
refused, and the exchequer-chamber followed suit ; but the king
insisted in the name of necessity, and the registration took
place, subject to a declaration on the part of the parliament
that it was forced to obey. Louis, at bottom, was not sorry
for this resistance, and himself made a secret protest against
the treaties he had just signed.

At the outset of the negotiations it had been agreed that
thirty-six notables, twelve prelates, twelve knights, and twelve
members of the council, should assemble to inquire into the
errors committed in the government of tho kingdon, and to
apply remedies. They were to meet on the 15th of December,
and to have terminated their labors in two months at the least,
and in three months and ten days at the most. The king
promised on his word to abide firmly and stably by what they
should decree. But this commission was nearly a year behind
time in assembling, and even when it was assembled, its labors
were so slow and so futile that the count De Dampmartin was
quite justified in writing to the count of Charolais, become by
his father's death duke of Burgundy, " The League of common
weal has become nothing but, the League of common woe"

Scarcely were the treaties signed and the princes returned
each to his own dominions when a quarrel arose between the
duke of Brittany, and the new duke of Normandy. Louis,
who was watching for dissensions between his enemies, went
at once to see the duke of Brittany, and made with him a
private convention for mutual security. Then, having his
movements free, he suddenly entered Normandy to retake
possession of it as a province which notwithstanding the
cession of it just made to his brother, the king of France could
not dispense with. Evreux, Gisors, Gournay, Louviers, and
even Bouen fell, without much resistance, again into his power.
The duke of Berry made a vigorous appeal for support to hk

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 329

late ally, the duke of Burgundy, in order to remain master of
the new duchy which had been conferred upon him under the
late treaties. The count of Charolais was at that time taking up
little by little the government of the Burgundian dominions in
the name of his father, the aged Duke Philip, who was ill and
near his end; but, by pleading his own engagements, and es
pecially his ever renewed struggle with his Flemish subjects,
the Liegese, the count escaped from the necessity of satisfying
the duke of Berry.

In order to be safe in the direction of Burgundy as well as
that of Brittany, Louis had entered into negotiations with
Edward IV., king of England, and had made him offers, perhaps
even promises, which seemed to trench upon the rights ceded
by the treaty of Conflans to the duke of Burgundy as to certain
districts of Picardy. The count of Charolais was informed of
it ; and in his impetuous wrath he wrote to King Louis, dubbing
him simply Sir, instead of giving him, according to the usage
between vassal and suzerain, the title of My most dread lord,
"May it please you to wit that some time ago I was apprised
of a matter at which I cannot be too much astounded. It is
with great sorrow that I name it to you, when I remember the
fair expressions I have all through this year had from you,
both in writing and by word of mouth. It is certain that par
ley has been held between your people and those of the king of
England, that you have thought proper to assign to them the
district of Caux and the city of Rouen ; that you have promised
to obtain for them Abbeville and the countship of Ponthieu,
and that you have concluded with them certain alliances
against me and my country, whilst making them large offers
to my prejudice. Of what is yours, sir, you may dispose ac
cording to your pleasure ; but it seems to me that you might do
better than wish to take from my hands what is mine in order
to give it to the English or to any other foreign nation. I pray
you therefore, sir, if such overtures have been made by your
people, to be pleased not to consent thereto in any way, but to
put a stop to the whole, to the end that I may remain your
most humble servant, as I desire to be."

Louis returned no answer to this letter. He contented him
self with sending to the commission of thirty-six notables, then
in session at Etampes for the purpose of considering the reform
of the kingdom, a request to represent to the count of Charolais
the impropriety of such language, and to appeal for the punish
ment of the persons who had suggested it to him. The count

330 HISTORY OF FRANCE. IC

made some awkward excuses, at the same time that he per
sisted in complaining of the king's obstinate pretentious and
underhand ways. A serious incident now happened, which for
a while distracted the attention of the two rivals from their
mutual recriminations. Duke Philip the Good, who had for
some time past been visibly declining in body and mind, was
visited at Bruges by a stroke of apoplexy, soon discovered
to be fatal. His son, the count of Charolais, was at Ghent.
At the first whisper of danger he monnted his horse and with
out a moment's halt arrived at Bruges on the 15th of June,
1467, and ran to his father's room, who had already lost speech
and consciousness. "Father, father," cried the count, on his
knees and sobbing, "give me your blessing; and if I have
offended you, forgive me." "My lord," added the bishop of
Bethlehem, the dying man's confessor, "if you only hear us,
bear witness by some sign." The duke turned his eyes a little
towards his son, and seemed to feebly press his hand. This
was his last effort of life ; and in the evening, after some hours
of passive agony, he died. His son flung himself upon the bed:
"He shrieked, he wept, he wrung his hands," says George
Chatelain, one of the aged duke's oldest and most trusted ser
vants, "and for many a long day tears were mingled with all
his words every time he spoke to those who had been in the
service of the dead, so much so that every one marvelled at his
immeasureable grief ; it had never heretofore been thought that
he could feel a quarter of the sorrow he showed, for he was
thought to have a sterner heart, whatever cause there might
have been; but nature overcame him." Nor was it to his son
alone that Duke Philip had been so good and left so many
grounds for sorrow. "With you we lose," was the saying
amongst the crowd that followed the procession through the
streets, "with you we lose our good old duke, the best, the
gentlest, the friendliest of princes, our peace and eke our joyl
Amidst such fearful storms you at last brought us into tran-
quility and good order; you set justice on her seat and gave
free course to commerce. And now you are dead and we are
orphans!" Many voices, it is said, added in a lower tone,
"You leave us in hands whereof the weight is unknown to us;
we know not into what perils we may be brought by the power
that is to be over us, over us so accustomed to yours, under
which we, most of us, were born and grew up."

What the people were anxiously forecasting, Louis foresaw
with certainty and took his measures accordingly. A few dayg

CH. xxv, J LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 331

after the death of Philip the Good, several of the principal
Flemish cities, Ghent first and then Liege, rose against the
new duke of Burgundy in defence of their liberties already
ignored or threatened. The intrigues of Louis were not un
connected with these seditions. He would undoubtedly have
been very glad to have seen his most formidable enemy beset,
at the very commencement of his ducal reign, by serious em
barrassments, and obliged to let the king of France settle with
out trouble his differences with his brother Duke Charles of
Berry and with the duke of Brittany But the new duke of
Burgundy was speedily triumphant over the Flemish insur
rections; and after these successes, at the close of the year
1467, he was so powerful and so unfettered in his movements
that Louis might with good reason fear the formation of a
fresh league amongst his great neighbors in coalition against
him, and perhaps even in communication with the English,
who were ever ready to seek in France allies for the further
ance of their attempts to regain there the fortunes wrested
from them by Joan of Arc and Charles VII. In view of such
a position Louis formed a resolution, unpalatable no doubt to
one so jealous of his own power, but indicative of intelligence
and boldness ; he confronted the difficulties of home govern
ment in order to prevent perils from without. The remem
brance had not yet faded of the energy displayed and the
services rendered in the first part of Charles VII. ?s reign by
the states-general \ a wish was manifested for their resuscita
tion ; and they were spoken of, even in the popular doggrel as
the most effectual remedy for the evils of the period,
" But what says Paris?"—" She is deaf and dumb.**
"Dares she not speak?" — "Nor she, nor parliament."
"The clergy?"- "Oh! the clergy are kept mum.v*
"Upon your oath?"— "Yes, on the sacrament."
"The nobles, then?"— "The nobles are still worse."
"And justice?" — "Hath nor balances nor weights."
"Who, then, may hope to mitigate this curse?"
41 Who? prithee, who?"— "Why France's three estates"
-'Be pleased, O prince, to grant alleviation. „ .'*
"To whom?"—" To the good citizen who waits. . ."
" For what?"— "The right of governing the nation. . ."
"Through whom? pray, whom?" — "Why France's three

estates."

In the face of the evil Louis felt no fear of the remedy. He
gummoned the states-general to a meeting at Tours on the l3f

332 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. TXT.

of April, 1468. Twenty-eight lords in person, besides represen
tatives of several others who were unable to be there them*
selves, and a hundred and ninety-two deputies elected by sixty-
four towns met in session. The chancellor, Juvenal des Ursins,
explained, in presence of the king, the object of the meeting:
"It is to take cognizance of the differences which have arisen
between the king and sir Charles, his brother, in respect of the
duchy of Normandy and the appanage of the said sir Charles;
likewise the great excesses and encroachments which the duke
of Brittany hath committed against the king by seizing his
places and subjects and making open war upon him; and
thirdly, the communication which is said to be kept up by the
duke of Brittany with the English, in order to bring them down
upon this country, and hand over to them the places he doth
hold in Normandy. Whereupon we are of opinion that the
people of the three estates should give their good advice and
council." After this official programme, the king and his
councillors withdrew. The estates deliberated during seven
or eight sessions, and came to an agreement "without any
opposition or difficulty whatever, that as touching the duchy
of Normandy it ought not to and cannot be separated from the
crown in any way whatsoever, but must remain united,
annexed, and conjoined thereto inseparably. Further, any
arrangement of the duke of Brittany with the English is a
thing damnable, pernicious, and of most evil consequences,
and one which is not to be permitted, suffered, or tolerated in
any way. Lastly, if sir Charles, the duke of Brittany, or
others, did make war on the king our sovereign lord, or have
any treaty or connection with his enemies, the king is bound
to proceed against them who should do so, according to what
must be done in such case for the tranquillity and security of
the realm. . . . And as often soever as the said cases may
occur, the people of the estates have agreed and consented, do
agree and consent, that, without waiting for other assemblage
or congregation of the estates, the king have power to do all
that comports with order and justice ; the said estates promi
sing and agreeing to serve and aid the king touching these
matters, to obey him with all their might, and to live and die
with him in this quarrel."

Louis XI. himself could demand no more. Had they been
more experienced and farsighted, the states-general of 1468
would not have been disposed to resign, even temporarily, into
the hands of the kingship, their rights and then- part in th«

cm. MY.] LOUIS XL (1461—1488). 833

government of the country ; but they showed patriotism and
good sense in defending the integrity of the kingdom, national
unity, and public order against the selfish ambition and dis
orderly violence of feudalism.

Fortified by their burst of attachment, Louis, by the treaty
of Ancenis, signed on the 10th of September, 1468, put an end
to his differences with Francis II., duke of Brittany, who gave
up his alliance with the house of Burgundy and undertook to
prevail upon Duke Charles of France to accept an arbitration
for the purpose of settling, before two years were over, the
question of his territorial appanage in the place of Normandy.
In the meanwhile a pension of sixty thousand livres was to be
paid by the crown to that prince. Thus Louis was left with
the new duke, Charles of Burgundy, as the only adversary he
had to face. His advisers were divided as to the course to be
taken with this formidable vassal. Was he to be dealt with by
war or by negotiation? Count De Dampmartin, marshal Do
Eouault, and nearly all the military men earnestly advised war.
44 Leave it to us," they said : u we will give the king a good ac
count of this duke of Burgundy. Plague upon it! what do
these Burgundians mean? They have called in the English and
made alliance with them in order to give us battle ; they have
handed over the country to fire and sword ; they have driven
the king from his lordship. We have suffered too much ; we
must have revenge; down upon them, in the name of the devil,
down upon them. The king makes a sheep of himself and bar
gains for hi'j wool and his skin, as if he had not wherewithal to
defend himself. 'Sdeath! if we were in his place, we would
rather risk the whole kingdom than let ourselves be treated in
this fashion." But the king did not like to risk the kingdom;
and he had more confidence in negotiation than in war. Two
of his principal advisers, the constable De St. Pol and the car
dinal De la Balue, bishop of Evreux, were of his opinion, and
urged him to the top of his bent. Of them he especially made
use in his more or less secret relations with the duke of Bur
gundy ; and he charged them to sound him with respect to a
personal interview between himself and the duke. It has been
very well remarked by M. De Barante, in his Histoire des Dues
de Bourgogne, that "Louis had a great idea of the influence he
gained over people by his wits and his language ; he was always
convinced that people never said what ought to be said, and
that they did not set to work the right way." It was a certain
way of pleasing him to give him promise of a success which ha

334 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxr.

would owe to himself alone ; and the constable and the cardinal
did not fail to do so. They found the duke of Burgundy very
little disposed to accept the king's overtures. ' * By St. George, "
said he, " I ask nothing but what is just and reasonable; I de
sire the fulfilment of the treaties of Arras and of Conflans to
which the king has sworn. I make no war on him, it is he who
is coming to make it on me; but should he bring all the forces
of his kingdom I will not budge from here or recoil the length
of my foot. My predecessors have seen themselves in worse
plight and have not been dismayed." Neither the constable
De St. Pol nor the cardinal De la Balue said any thing to the
king about this rough disposition on the part of Duke Charles;
they both in their own personal interest desired the interview,
and did not care to bring to light any thing that might be an
obstacle to it. Louis persisted in his desire and sent to ask the
duke for a letter of safe-conduct. Charles wrote with his own
hand, on the 8th of October, 1468, as follows:—

"My lord, if it is your pleasure to come to this town of
Peronne for to see us, I swear to you and promise you, by my
faith and on my honor, that you may come, remain, sojourn,
and go back safely to the places of Chauny and Noyon, at your
pleasure, as many times as it may please you, freely and
frankly, without any hindrance to you or to any of your folks
from me or others in any case whatever and whatsoever may
happen."

When this letter arrived at Noyon, extreme surprise and
alarm were displayed about Louis ; the interview appeared to
be a mad idea; the vicegerent (vidam) of Amiens came hurry
ing up with a countryman who declared on his life that my
lord of Burgundy wished for it only to make an attempt upon
the king's person ; the king's greatest enemies, it was said, were
already or soon would be with the duke; and the captains
vehemently reiterated their objections. But Louis held to his
purpose and started for Noyon on the 2nd of October, taking
with him the constable, the cardinal, his confessor, and, for all
his escort, four score of his faithful Scots and sixty men-at-
arms. This knowing gossip, as his contemporaries called him,
had fits of rashness and audacious vanity.

Dnke Charles went to meet him outside the town. They
embraced oae another and returned on foot to Pe"ronne, chat
ting familiarly, and the king with his hand resting on the
duke's shoulder in token of amity. Louis had quarters at the
house of the chamberlain of the town; the castle of Peroone

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XI. (1461—1483). 335

being, it was said, in too bad a state and too ill-furnished for
his reception. On the very day that the king entered Peronne
the duke's army, commanded by the marshal of Burgundy,
arrived from the opposite side and encamped beneath the walls.
Several former servants of the king, now not on good terms
with him, accompanied the Burgundian army. "As soon as
the king was apprised of the arrival of these folks," says Com-
mynes, "he had a great fright and sent to beg of the duke of
Burgundy that he might be lodged at the castle, seeing that
all those who had come were evil-disposed towards him. The
duke was very much rejoiced thereat, had him lodged there
and stoutly assured him that he had no cause for doubt."
Next day parleys began between the councillors of the two
princes. They did not appear much disposed to come to an
understanding, and a little sourness of spirit was beginning to
show itself on both sides, when there came news which ex
cited a grand commotion. "King Louis, on coming to
Peronne, had not considered," says Commynes, " that he had
sent two ambassadors to the folks of Liege to excite them
against the duke. Nevertheless the said ambassadors had
advanced matters so well that they had already made a great
mass (of rebels). The Liegese came and took by surprise the
town of Tongres, wherein were the bishop of Liege and the
lord of Humbercourt, whom they took also, slaying moreover
some servants of the said bishop." The fugitives who reported
this news at Peronne made the matter a great deal worse than
it was ; they had no doubt, they said, but that the bishop and
sire d'Humbercourt had also been murdered ; and Charles had
no more doubt about it than they. His fury was extreme ; he
strode to and fro, every where relating the news from Liege.
"So the king," said he, "came here only to deceive me; it is
he who by his ambassadors excited these bad folks of Liege;
but, by St. George, they shall be severely punished for it, and
he, himself, shall have cause to repent." He gave immediate
orders to have the gates of the town and of the castle closed
and guarded by the archers; but being a little troubled, never
theless, as to the effect which would be produced by this order,
he gave as his reason for it that he was quite determinded to
have recovered a box full of gold and jewels which had been
stolen from him. " I verily believe," says Commynes, " that
if just then the duke had found those whom he addressed
ready to encourage him or advise him to do the king a bad
turn, he would have done it; but at that time I was still with

2

336 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxv.

the said duke ; I served him as a chamberlain and I slept in
his room when I pleased, for such was the usage of that house.
With me was there none at this speech of the duke's, save
two grooms of the chamber, one called Charles de Visen, a
native of Dijon, an honest man and one who had great credit
with his master ; and we exasperated naught but assuaged ac
cording to our power. "

Whilst Duke Charles was thus abandoning himself to the
first outburst of his wrath, King Louis remained impassive in
the castle of Peronne, quite close to the great tower, wherein,
about the year 925, King Charles the Simple had been confined
by Herbert, count of Vermandois, and died a prisoner in 929.
None of Louis' people had been removed from him ; but the
gate of the castle was strictly guarded. There was no enter
ing, on his service, but by the wicket, and none of the duke's
people came to visit him ; he had no occasion to parley, explain
himself, and guess what it was expedient for him to say or do ;
he was alone, wrestling with his imagination and his lively
impressions, with the feeling upon him of the recent mistakes
he had committed, especially in exciting the Liegese to rebel
lion and forgetting the fact just when he was coming to place
himself in his enemy's hands. Far, however, from losing his
head, Louis displayed in this perilous trial all the penetration,
activity, and shrewdness of his mind, together with all the
suppleness of his character; he sent by his own servants
questions, offers and promises to all the duke's servants from
whom he could hope for any help or any good advice.
Fifteen thousand golden crowns with which he had provided
himself at starting, were given by him to be distributed
amongst the household of the duke of Burgundy ; a liberality
which was perhaps useless, since it is said that he to whom he
had entrusted the sum kept a good portion of it for himself.
The king passed two days in this state of gloomy expectancy
as to what was in preparation against him.

On the llth of October, Duke Charles, having cooled down
a little, assembled his council. The sitting lasted all the day
and part of the night. Louis had sent to make an offer to
swear a peace, such as at the moment of his arrival had been
proposed to him, without any reservation or difficulty on his
part. He engaged to join the duke in making war upon the
Liegese and chastising them for their rebellion. He would
leave as hostages his nearest relatives and his most intimate
advisers. At the beginning of the council his proposals wero

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XI. (1461—1483). 337

not even listened to, there was no talk but of keeping the king
a prisoner and sending after his brother, the prince Charles,
with whom the entire government of the kingdom should be
arranged ; the messenger had orders to be in readiness to start
at once ; his horse was in the courtyard ; he was only waiting
for the letters which the duke was writing to Brittany. The
chancellor of Burgundy and some of the wiser councillors be
sought the duke to reflect. The king had come to Peronne on
the faith of his safe-conduct; it would be an eternal dishonor
for the house of Burgundy if he broke his word to his sover
eign lord ; and the conditions which the king was prepared to
grant would put an end, with advantage to Burgundy, to
serious and difficult business. The duke gave heed to these
honest and prudent counsels ; the news from Liege turned out
to be less serious than the first rumors had represented ; the
bishop and sire d'Humbercourt had been set at liberty.
Charles retired to his chamber ; and there, without thinking of
undressing, he walked to and fro with long strides, threw him
self upon his bed, got up again, and soliloquised out aloud,
addressing himself occasionally to Commynes, who lay close
by him. Towards morning, though he still snowed signs of
irritation, his language was less threatening. "He has
promised me," said he, "to come with me to reinstate the
bishop of Liege, who is my brother-in-law and a relation of his
also ; he shall certainly come ; I shall not scruple to hold him
to his word that he gave me ;" and he at once sent sires De
Crequi, De Charni, and De la Roche to tell the king that he
was about to come and swear peace with him. Commynes
had only just time to tell Louis in what frame -of mind the
duke was and in what danger he would place himself if he
hesitated either to swear peace or to march against the
Liegese.

As soon as it was broad day the duke entered the apartment
of the castle where the king was a prisoner. His look was
courteous, but his voice trembled with choler; his words were
short and bitter, his manner was threatening. A little
troubled at his aspect, Louis said, "Brother, I am safe, am I
not, in your house and your country?" "Yes, sir," answered
the duke, " so safe that if I saw an arrow from a bow coming
towards you I would throw myself in the way to protect you.
But will you not be pleased to swear the treaty just as it is
written?" "Yes," said the king, "and I thank you for your
good will. " ' l And will you not be pleased to come with me to

338 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH. xxv.

Liege to help me punish the treason committed against me by
these Liegese, all through you and your journey hither? The
bishop is your near relative, of the house of Bourbon. " ' ' Yes,
Paques-Dieu," replied Louis, " and I am much astounded at
their wickedness. But begin we by swearing this treaty ; and
then I will start with as many or as few of my people as you
please."

Forthwith was taken out from the king's boxes the wood
of the so-called true cross, which was named the cross of
St. Laud, because it had been preserved in the church of
St. Laud, at Angers. It was supposed to have formerly be
longed to Charlemagne ; and it was the relic which Louis re
garded as the most sacred. The treaty was immediately
signed, without any change being made in that of Conflans,
The duke of Burgundy merely engaged to use his influence
with Prince Charles of France to induce him to be content
with Brie and Champagne as appanage. The storm was
weathered; and Louis almost rejoiced at seeing himself called
upon to chastise in person the Liegese who had made him
commit such a mistake and run such a risk.

Next day the two princes set out together, Charles with his
army, and Louis with his modest train increased by three
hundred men-at-arms whom he had sent for from France.
On the 27th of October they arrived before Liege. Since Duke
Charles' late victories the city had no longer any ramparts or
ditches ; nothing seemed easier than to get into it ; but the be
sieged could not persuade themselves that Louis was sincerely
allied with the duke of Burgundy, and they made a sortie,
shouting " Hurrah for the king 1 Hurrah for France 1" Great
was their surprise when they saw Louis advancing in person,
wearing in his hat the cross of St. Andrew of Burgundy, and
shouting, "Hurrah for Burgundy!" Some even amongst the
French who surrounded the king were shocked; they could
not reconcile themselves to so little pride and such brazen
falsehood. Louis took no heed of their temper and never
ceased to repeat, "When pride rides before, shame and hurt
follow close after." The surprise of the Liegese was trans
formed into indignation. They made a more energetic and a
longer resistance than had been expected. The besiegers, con
fident of their strength, kept careless watch, and the sorties of
the besieged became more numerous. One night Charles re
ceived notice that his men had just been attacked in a suburb
which they had held and were flying. He mounted his horse,

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XI. (1461—1488). 339

gave orders not to awake the king, repaired by himself to the
place where the fight was, put every thing to rights and came
back and told the whole affair to Louis, who exhibited great
joy. Another time, one dark and rainy night, there was an
alarm, about midnight, of a general attack upon the whole
Burgundian camp. The duke was soon up, and a moment
afterwards the king arrived. There was great disorder. " The
Liegese sallied by this gate," said some; " No, "said others,
"it was by that gate -."there was nothing known for certain
and there were no orders given. Charles was impetuous
and brave but he was easily disconcerted, and his servants
were somewhat vexed not to see him putting a better counte
nance on things before the king. Louis, on the other hand,
was cool and calm, giving commands firmly and ready to as
sume responsibility wherever he happened to be : " Take what
men you have," said he to the constable St. Pol, who was at
his side, "and go in this direction; if they are really coming
upon us, they will pass that way." It was discovered to be a
false alarm. Two days afterwards there was a more serious
affair. The inhabitants of a canton which was close to the city,
and was called Franchemont, resolved to make a desperate
effort and go and fall suddenly upon the very spot where the
two princes were quartered. One night about ten p.m. six
hundred men sallied out by one of the breaches, all men of
stout hearts and well armed. The duke's quarters were first
attacked. Only twelve archers were on guard below and they
were playing at dice. Charles was in bed. Commynes put on
him as quickly as possible his breast-plate and helmet, and they
went downstairs. The archers were with great difficulty defend
ing the doorway, but help arrived and the danger was over.
The quarters of King Louis had also been attacked ; but, at the
first sound, the Scottish archers had hurried up, surrounded
their master, and repulsed the attack, without caring whether
their arrows killed Liegese or such Burgundians as had come
up with assistance. The gallant fellows from Franchemont fell
almost to a man. The duke and his principal captains held a
council the next day; and the duke was for delivering the
assault. The king was not present at this council, and when
he was informed of the resolution taken he was not in favor of
an assault. "You see," said he, " the courage of these people;
you know how murderous and uncertain is street-fighting; you
will lose many brave men to no purpose. Wait two or three
days; and the LiSgese will infallibly come to terms." Nearly

340 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxv.

all the Burgundian captains sided with the king. The duke
got angry. " He wishes to spare the Liegese," said he; " what
danger is there in this assault? There are no walls; they can't
put a single gun in position ; I certainly will not give up the
assault; if the king is afraid, let him get him gone to Namur."
Such an insult shocked even the Burgundians. Louis was in
formed of it but said nothing. Next day, the 30th of October,
1468, the assault was ordered ; and the duke marched at the
head of his troops. Up came the king; but "Bide," said
Charles, "put not yourself uselessly in danger; I will send you
word when it is time." "Lead on, brother," replied Louis,
" you are the most fortunate prince alive ; I will follow you ;"
and he continued marching with him. But the assault was
unnecessary. Discouragement had taken possession of the
Liegese, the bravest of whom had fallen. It was Sunday, and
the people who remained were not expecting an attack; " the
cloth was laid in every house and all were preparing for
dinner." The Burgundians moved forward through the empty
streets ; and Louis marched quietly along, surrounded by his
own escort and shouting ' ' Hurrah for Burgundy 1" The duke
turned back to meet him, and they went together to give
thanks to God in the* cathedral of St. Lambert. It was the
only church which had escaped from the fury and the pillag
ing of the Burgundians ; by mid-day there was nothing left to
take in the houses or in the churches. Louis loaded Duke
Charles with felicitations and commendations; " He knew how
to turn them in a fashion so courteous and amiable that the
duke was charmed and softened." The next day as they were
talking together, "Brother," said the king to the duke, "if
you have still need of my help, do not spare me ; but if you
have nothing more for me to do, it would be well for me to
go back to Paris, to make public in my court of parliament
the arrangement we have come to together; otherwise it
would run a risk of becoming of no avail; you know that
such is the custom of France. Next summer we must meet
again; you will come into your duchy of Burgundy, and I will
go and pay you a visit, and we will pass a week joyously to
gether in making good cheer." Charles made no answer, and
sent for the treaty lately concluded between them at Peronne,
leaving it to the king's choice to confirm or to renounce it, and
excusing himself in covert terms for having thus constrained
him and brought him away. The king made a show of being
satisfied with the treaty, and on the 2nd of November, 1468,

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XI. (1461—1483). 341

the day but one after the capture of Liege, set out for France.
The duke bore him company to within half a league of the
city. As they were taking leave of one another, the king said
to him, "If, perad venture, my brother Charles, who is in
Brittany, should be discontented with the assignment I make
him for love of you, what would you have me do?" " If he do
not please to take it," answered the duke, "but would have
you satisfy him, I leave it to you two." Louis desired no
more: he returned home free and confident in himself, "after
having passed the most trying three weeks of his life. "

But Louis XL's deliverance after his quasi-captivity at
Peronne, and the new treaty he had concluded with Duke
Charles were and could be only a temporary break in the
struggle between these two princes, destined as they were both
by character and position to irremediable incompatibility.
They were too powerful and too different to live at peace when
they were snch close neighbors and when their relations were
so complicated. We find in the chronicle of George Chastelain,
a Flemish burgher and a servant on familiar terms with Duke
Charles as he had been with his father, Duke Philip, a judi
cious picture if this incompatibility and the causes of it.
"There had been, "he says, "at all times a rancor between
these two princes, and, whatever pacification might have been
effected to-day, every thing returned to-morrow to the old con
dition, and no real love could be established. They suffered
from incompatibility of temperament and perpetual discordance
of will ; and the more they advanced in years the deeper they
plunged into a state of serious difference and hopeless bitter
ness. The king was a man of subtlety and full of fence ; he
knew how to recoil for a better spring, how to affect humility
and gentleness in his deep designs, how to yield and to give up
in order to receive double, and how to bear and tolerate for a
time his own grievances in hopes of being able at last to have
his revenge. He was, therefore, very much to be feared for
his practical knowledge, showing the greatest skill and pene
tration in the world. Duke Charles was to be feared for his
great courage, which he evinced and displayed in his actions,
making no account of king or emperor. Thus, whilst the king
had great sense and great ability, which he used with dissimu
lation and suppleness in order to succeed in his views, the
duke, on his side, had a great sense of another sort and to an
other purpose, which he displayed by a public ostentation of
his pride, without any fear of putting himself in a false posi-

342 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH.

tion." Between 1468 and 1477, from the incident at Peronne
to the death of Charles at the siege of Nancy, the history of
the two princes was nothing but one constant alternation be
tween ruptures and re-adjustments, hostilities and truces
wherein both were constantly changing their posture, their
language, and their allies. It was at one time the affairs of the
duke of Brittany or those of Prince Charles of France, become
duke of Guienne ; at another it was the relations with the dif
ferent claimants to the throne of England, or the fate of the
towns, in Picardy, handed over to the duke of Burgundy by
the treaties of Conflans and Peronne, which served as a ground
or pretext for the frequent recurrences of war. In 1471 St.
Quentin opened its gates to Count Louis of St. Pol, constable
of France ; and Duke Charles complained with threats about
it to the count of Dampmartin, who was in command, on
that frontier, of Louis XL's army and had a good understand
ing with the constable. Dampmartin, "one of the bravest
men of his time," says Duclos [Histoire de Louis XI. in the
CEuvres completes of Duclos, t. ii. p. 429], "sincere and faith
ful, a warm friend and an implacable foe, at once replied
to the duke: 'Most high and puissant prince, I suppose
your letters to have been dictated by your council and highest
clerics, who are folks better at letter-making than I am, for
I have not lived by quill-driving. ... If I write you matter
that displeases you, and you have a desire to revenge yourself
upon me, you shall find me so near to your army that you will
know how little fear I have of you. ... Be assured that if it
be your will to go on long making war upon the king, it will at
last be found out by all the world that as a soldier you have
mistaken your calling.' " The next year (1472) war broke out.
Duke Charles went and laid siege to Beauvais, and on the 27th
of June delivered the first assault. The inhabitants were at
this moment left almost alone to defend their town. A young
girl of eighteen, Joan Fourquet, whom a burgher's wife of
Beauvais, Madame Laisne", her mother by adoption, had bred
up in the history, still so recent, of Joan of Arc, threw herself
in the midst of the throng, holding up her little axe (hochette)
before the image of St. Angadresme, patroness of the town,
and crying, " O glorious virgin, come to my aid; to arms! to
arms!" The assault was repulsed; reinforcements came up
from Noyon, Amiens, and Paris, under the orders of the mar
shal de Eouault; and the mayor of Beauvais presented Joan to
him. "Sir," said the young girl to him, "you have every*

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 343

where been victor, and you will be so with us." On the 9th of
July the duke of Burgundy delivered a second assault, which
lasted four hours. Some Burgundians had escaladed a part of
the ramparts ; Joan Hachette arrived there just as one of them
was planting his flag on the spot ; she pushed him over the side
into the ditch, and went down in pursuit of him ; the man fell
on one knee ; Joan struck him down, took possession of the
flag, aud mounted up to the ramparts again, crying ''Victory 1"
The same cry resounded at all points of the wall ; the assault
was everywhere repulsed. The vexation of Charles was great ;
the day before he had been almost alone in advocating the
assault ; in the evening, as he lay on his camp-bed, according to
his custom, he had asked several of his people whether they
thought the townsmen were prepared for it. " Yes, certainly,1*
was the answer; " there are a great number of them." " You
will not find a soul there to-morrow," said Charles, with a
sneer. He remained for twelve days longer before the place,
looking for a better chance ; but on the 12th of July he decided
upon raising the siege, and took the road to Normandy. Some
days before attacking Beauvais, he had taken, not without
difficulty, Nesle in the Vermandois. "There it was," says
Commynes, "that he first committed a horrible and wicked
deed of war, which had never been his wont ; this was burning
everything everywhere; those who were taken alive were
hanged; a pretty large number had their hands cut off. It
mislikes me to speak of such cruelty ; but I was on the spot,
and must needs say something about it." Commynes un
doubtedly said something about it to Charles himself, who
answered, "It is the fruit borne by the tree of war; it would
have been the fate of Beauvais if I could have taken the
town."

Between the two rivals in France, relations, with England
were a subject of constant manoeuvring and strife. In spite of
reverses on the Continent and civil wars in their own island,
the kings of England had not abandoned their claims to the
crown of France ; they were still in possession of Calais ; and
the memory of the battles of Crecy, Poitiers, and Agincourt
was still a tower of strength to them. Between 1470 and 1472
the house of York had triumphed over the house at Lancaster;
and Edward IV was undisputed king. In his views touching
France he found a natural ally in the duke of Burgundy; and
it was in concert with Charles that Edward was incessantly
concocting and attempting plots and campaigns against Louis

344 HISTORY OF FRANC K. fCH. xxr.

XI. In 1474 he, by a herald, called upon Louis to give up to
him Normandy and Guienne, else, he told him, he would cross
over to France 'with his army. " Tell your master," answered
Louis coolly, "that I should not advise him to." Next year
the herald returned to tell Louis that the king of England, on
the point of embarking, called upon him to give up to him the
kingdom of France. Louis had a conversation with the herald.
"Your king," said he, " is undertaking this war against his
own grain at the solicitation of the duke of Burgundy; he
would do much better to live in peace with me instead of de
voting himself to allies who cannot but compromise him with
out doing hi™ any service ;" and he had three hundred golden
crowns presented to the herald, with a promise of considerably
more if peace were made. The herald, thus won over,
promised in his turn to do all he could, saying that he believed
that his master would lend a willing ear but that, before men
tioning the subject, they must wait until Edward had crossed
the sea and formed some idea of the difficulties in the way of
his enterprise ; and he advised Louis to establish communica
tions with my lord Howard and my lord Stanley, who had
great influence with King Edward. "Whilst the king was
parleying with the said herald, there were many folks in the
hall," says Commynes, "who where waiting and had great
longing to know what the king was saying to him, and what
countenance he would wear when he came from within. The
king, when he had made an end, called me and told me to keep
the said herald talking, so that none might speak to him, and
to ha.ve delivered, unto him a piece of crim'son velvet contain
ing thirty ells. So did I, and the king was right joyous at
that which he had got out of the said herald."

It was now three years since Philip de Commynes had left
the duke of Burgundy's service to enter that of Louis XI, In
1471 -Charles had, none knows why, rashly authorized an
interview between Louis and De Commynes. "The king's
speech," says the chronicler Molinet, in the duke of Burgundy's
service, "was so sweet and full of virtue that it entranced,
siren-like, all those who gave ear to it. " "Of all princes, " says
Commynes himself, " he was the one who was at most pains to
gain over a man who was able to serve him and able to injure
him ; and he was not put out at being refused once by one whom
he was working to gain over, but continued thereat, making
him large promises, and actually giving money and estate
when he made acquaintances that were pleasing to him."

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 345

Commynes spoke according to his own experience. Louis, from
the moment of making his acquaintance, had guessed his value ;
and as early as 1468, in the course of his disagreeable adventure
at Peronne, he had found the good offices of Commynes of
great service to him. It was probably from this very time
that he applied himself assiduously to the task of gaining him
over. Commynes hesitated a long while ; but Louis was even
more perseveringly persistent than Commynes was hesitating.
The king backed up his handsome offers by substantial and
present gifts. In 1471, according to what appears, he lent
Commynes six thousand livres of Tours, which the duke of
Burgundy's councillor lodged with a banker at Tours. The
next year, the king, seeing that Commynes was still slow to
decide, bade one of his councillors to go to Tours, in his name,
and seize at the banker's the six thousand livres entrusted to
the latter by Commynes. ' ' This, " says the learned editor of
the last edition of Commynes' Memoires, " was an able and de
cisive blow. The effect of the seizure could not but be and in
deed was to put Commynes in the awkward dilemma of seeing
his practices (as the saying was at that time) divulged without
reaping the fruit of them, or of securing the advantages only
by setting aside the scruples which held him back. He chose
the latter course, which had become the safer ; and during the
between the 7th and 8th of August, 1482, be left Burgundy for
ever. The king was at that time at Ponts-de-Ce, and there his
new servant joined him." The very day of his departure, at
six A.M., Duke Charles had a seizure made of all the goods and
all the rights belonging to the fugitive; "but what Commynes
lost on one side, "says his editor, "he was abont to recover a
hundredfold on the other ; scarcely had he arrived at the court
of Louis XI. when he received at once the title of councillor
and chamberlain to the king ; soon afterwards a pension of six
thousand livres of Tours was secured to him, ' by way of giv
ing him wherewithal to honorably maintain his position ;' he
was put into the place of captain of the castle and keep of the
town of Chinon ; and lastly, a present was made to him of the
rich principality of Talmont." Six months later, in January,
1473, Commynes married Helen de Chambes, daughter of the
lord of Montsoreau, who brought him as dowry 27,500 livres of
Tours, which enabled him to purchase the castle, town, barony,
land, and lordship of Argenton [arrondissement of Bressuire,
department of Deux-Sevres], the title of which he thenoefor'
ward assumed.

346 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxr.

Half a page or so can hardly be thought too much space to
devote in a History of France to the task of tracing to their
origin the conduct and fortunes of one of the most eminent
French politicians who, after having taken a chief part in the
affairs of their country and their epoch, have dedicated them*
selves to the work of narrating them in a spirit of liberal and
admirable comprehension both of persons and events. But
we will return to Louis XI.

The king of England readily entertained the overtures an
nounced to him by his herald. He had landed at Calais on the
22nd of June, 1475, with an army of from sixteen to eighteen
thousand men thirsting for conquest and pillage in France, and
the duke of Burgundy had promised to go and join him with a
considerable force ; but the latter, after having appeared for a
moment at Calais to concert measures with his ally, returned
no more, and even hesitated about admitting the English into
his towns of Artois and Picardy. Edward waited for him
nearly two months at Peronne, but in vain. During this time
Louis continued his attempts at negotiation. He fixed his
quarters at Amiens, and Edward came and encamped half a
league from the town. The king sent to him, it is said, three
hundred wagons laden with the best wines he could find, " the
which train," says Commynes, "was almost an army as Dig as
the English;" at the entrance of the gate of Amiens Louis had
caused to be set out two large tables "laden with all sorts of
good eatables and good wines ; and at each of these two tables
he had caused to be seated five or six men of good family,
stout and fat, to make better sport for them who had a mind
to drink. When the English went into the town, wherever
they put up they had nothing to pay ; there were nine or ten
taverns, well supplied, whither they went to eat and drink
and asked for what they pleased. And this lasted three or
four days." An agreement was soon come to as to the terms
of peace. King Edward bound himself to withdraw his army
to England so soon as Louis XI. should have paid him seventy-
five thousand crowns. Louis promised besides to pay annually
to King Edward fifty thousand crowns, in two payments, dur
ing the time that both princes were ah' ve. A truce for seven
years was concluded ; they made mutual promises to lend each
other aid if they were attacked by their enemies or by their
own subjects in rebellion ; and Prince Charles, the eldest son
of Louis XI., was to marry Elizabeth, Edward's daughter,
when both should be of marriageable age. Lastly, Queen

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461-1483). 347

Margaret of Anjou, who had been a prisoner in England since
the death of her husband, Henry VI,, was to be set at liberty
and removed to France, on renouncing all claim to the crown
of England. These conditions having been formulated, it was
agreed that the two kings should meet and sign them at Pec-
quigny on the Somme, three leagues from Amiens. Thither,
accordingly, they repaired on the 29th of August, 1475. Ed
ward, as he drew near, doffed "his bonnet of black velvet
whereon was a large fleur-de-lis in jewels, and bowed down to
within half a foot of the ground." Louis made an equally
deep reverence, saying, uSir my cousin, right welcome; there
is no man in the world I could more desire to see than I do
you, and praised be God that we are here assembled with such
good intent." The king of England answered this speech "in
good French enough," says Commynes. The missal was
brought; the two kings swore and signed four distinct
treaties ; and then they engaged in a long private conversa
tion, after which Louis went away to Amiens and Edward to
his army, whither Louis sent to him "all that he had need of,
even to torches and candles." As he went chatting along the
road with Commynes, Louis told him that he had found the
king of England so desirous of paying a visit to Paris that he
had been anything but pleased. "He is a right handsome
king," said he; " he is very fond of women; and he might well
meet at Paris some smitten one who would know how to make
him such pretty speeches as to render him desirous of another
visit. His predecessors were far too much in Normandy and
Paris ; his comradeship is worth nothing on our side of the
sea ; on the other side, over yonder, I should like very well to
have him for good brother and good friend." Throughout the
whole course of the negotiation Louis had shown pliancy and
magnificence; he had laden Edward's chief courtiers with
presents ; two thousand crowns by way of pension had been
allowed to his grand chamberlain, Lord Hastings, who would
not give an acknowledgment. "This gift comes of the king
your master's good pleasure and not at my request," said he to
Louis' steward; " if you would have me take it, you shall slip
it here inside my sleeve, and have no letter or voucher beyond ;
I do not wish to have people saying, ' The grand chamberlain
of England was the king of France's pensioner,' or to have my
acknowledgments found in his exchequer-chamber." Lord
Hastings had not always been so scrupulous, for, on the 15th
of May, 1471, he had received from the duke of Burgundy a

848 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxr.

pension for which he had given an acknowledgment. Another
Englishman, whose name is not given by Commynes, waxed
wroth at hearing some one say, "Six hundred pipes of wine
and a pension given you by the king soon sent you back to
England." "That is certainly what every body said," an
swered the Englishman, "that you might have the laugh
against us. But call you the money the king gives us pen
sion? Why, it is tribute; and, by St. George, you may per
haps talk so much about it as to bring us down upon you
again!" "There was nothing in the world," says Commynes,
"of which the king was more fearful than lest any word
should escape him to make the English think that they were
being derided ; at the same time that he was laboring to gain
them over, he was careful to humor their susceptibilities ;"
and Commynes, under his schooling, had learned to under
stand them well: "They are rather slow goers," says he, "but
you must have a little patience with them and not lose your
temper. ... I fancy that to many it might appear that the
king abased himself too much ; but the wise might well hold
that the kingdom was in great danger, save for the interven
tion of God, who did dispose the king's mind to choose so wise
a course, and did greatly trouble that of the duke of Bur
gundy. . . . Our king knew well the nature of the king of
England, who was very fond of his ease and his pleasures ;
when he had concluded these treaties with him, he ordered
that the money should be found with the greatest expedition,
and every one had to lend somewhat to help to supply it on
the spot. The king said that there was nothing in the world
he would not do to thrust the king of England out of the
realm, save only that he would never consent that the English
should have a bit of territory there ; and, rather than suffer
that, he would put every thing to jeopardy and risk."

Commynes had good reason to say that the kingdom was in
great peril. The intentions of Charles the Rash tended to
nothing short of bringing back the English into France, in
order to share it with them. He made no concealment of it.
"I am so fond of the kingdom," said he, "that I would make
six of it in France." He was passionately eager for the title of
king. He had put out feelers for it in the direction of Ger
many, and the emperor, Frederic III., had promised it to him
together with that of vicar-general of the empire, on condition
that his daughter, Mary of Burgundy, married Duke Maxi
milian, Frederic's son. Having been unsuccessful on the

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 349

Rhine, Charles turned once more towards the Thames, and
made alliance with Edward IV. , king of England, with a view
of renewing the English invasion of France, flattering himself,
of course, that he would profit by it. To destroy the work of
Joan of Arc and Charles VII.— such was the design, a crim
inal and a shameful one for a French prince, which was check
mated by the peace of Pecquigny. Charles himself acknowl
edged as much when, in his wrath at this treaty, he said, uHe
had not sought to bring over the English into France for any
need he had of them, but to enable them to recover what be
longed to them;" and Louis XI. was a patriotic king when he
declared that ' ' there was nothing in the world he would not
do to thrust the king of England out of the realm, and, rather
than suffer the English to have a bit of territory in France, he
would put every thing to jeopardy and risk. "

The duke of Burgundy, as soon as he found out that the king
of France had, under the name of truce, made peace for seven
years with the king of England, and that Edward IV. had re-
crossed the Channel with his army, saw that his attempts, so
far, were a failure. Accordingly he too lost no time in signing
[on the 13th of September, 1475] a truce with King Louis for
nine years, and directing his ambition and aiming his blows
against other quarters than western France. Two little states,
his neighbors on the east, Lorraine and Switzerland, became
the object and the theatre of his passion for war. Lorraine
had at that time for its duke Rene II., of the house of Anjou
through his mother Yolande, a young prince who was waver
ing as so many others were between France and Burgundy.
Charles suddenly entered Lorraine, took possession of several
castles, had the inhabitants who resisted hanged, besieged
Nancy, which made a valiant defence, and ended by conquer
ing the capital as well as the country-places, leaving Duke
Rene no asylum but the court of Louis XL, of whom the Lor
raine prince had begged a support, which Louis after his cus
tom had promised without rendering it effectual. Charles did
not stop there. He had already been more than once engaged
in hostilities with his neighbors the Swiss ; and he now learned
that they had just made a sanguinary raid upon the district of
Vaud, the domain of a petty prince of the house of Savoy and
a devoted servant of the duke of Burgundy's. Scarcely two
months after the capture of Nancy, Charles set out, on the llth
of June, 1476, to go and avenge his client and wreak his
haughty snd turbulent humor upon these bold peasants of the
Alps.

350 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. XXY.

In spite of the truce he had but lately concluded with Charles
the Rash the prudent Louis did not cease to keep an at
tentive watch upon him, and to reap advantage, against him,
from the leisure secured to the king of France by his peace
with the king of England and the duke of Brittany. A late
occurrence had still further strengthened his position; his
brother Charles, who became duke of Guienne, in 1469, after
the treaty of Peronne, had died on the 24th of May, 1472.
There were sinister rumors abroad touching this death. Louis
was suspected and even accused to the duke of Brittany, an
intimate friend of the deceased prince, of having poisoned his
brother. He caused an inquiry to be instituted into the mat
ter ; but the inquiry itself was accused of being incomplete and
inconclusive. "King Louis did not, possibly, cause his
brother's death," says M. de Barante, "but nobody thought
him incapable of it." The will which Prince Charles had
dictated a little before his death increased the horror inspired
by such a suspicion. He manifested in it a feeling of affection
and confidence towards the king his brother ; he requested him
to treat his servants kindly; " and if in any way," he added,
" we have ever offended our right dread and right well-be
loved brother, we do beg him to be pleased to forgive us;
since, for our part, if ever in any matter he had offended us,
we do affectionately pray the Divine Majesty to forgive him,
and with good courage and good will do we on our part for
give him." The duke of Guienne at the same time appointed
the king executor of his will. If we acknowledge, however,
that Louis was not incapable of such a crime, it must be
admitted that there is no trustworthy proof of his guilt. At
any rate his brother's death had important results for him.
Not only did it set him free from all fresh embarrassment in
that direction, but it also restored to him the beautiful prov
ince of Guienne and many a royal client. He treated the
friends of Prince Charles, whether they had or had not been
heretofore his own, with marked attention. He re-established
at Bordeaux the parliament he had removed to Poitiers ; he
pardoned the towns of P4zenas and Montignac for some late
seditions; and, lastly, he took advantage of this incident to
pacify and satify this portion of the kingdom. Of the great
feudal chieftains who, in 1464, had formed against him the
League of the common weal, the duke of Burgundy was the
only one left on the scene and in a condition to put him in
peril.

OH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461-1483). 351

But though here was for the future his only real adversary,
Louis XI. continued, and with reason, to regard the duke of
Burgundy as his most formidable foe, and never ceased to look
about for means and allies wherewith to encounter him.
He could no longer count upon the co-operation, more or less
general, of the Flemings. His behavior to the Liegese after
the incident at Peronne, and his share in the disaster which
befell Lie"ge had lost him all his credit in the Flemish cities.
The Flemings, besides, had been disheartened and disgusted at
the idea of compromising themselves for or against their Bur-
gundian prince. When they saw him entering upon the cam
paign in Lorraine and Switzerland, they themselves declared
to him what he might or might not expect from them. " If he
were pressed," they said, "by the Germans or the Swiss, and
had not with enough men to make his way back freely to his
own borders, he had only to let them know, and they would
expose their persons and their property to go after him and
fetch him back safely within his said borders, but, as for mak
ing war again at his instance, they were not free to aid him
any more with either men or money." Louis XI., then, had
nothing to expect from the Flemings anymore; but for two
years past, and so soon as he observed the commencement of
hostilities between the duke of Burgundy and the Swiss, he
had paved the way for other alliances in that quarter. In
1473 he had sent u to the most high and mighty lords and most
dear friends of ours, them of the league and city of Berne and
of the great and little league of Germany" ambassadors
charged to make proposals to them, "if they would come to
an understanding to be friends of friends and foes of foes"
(make an offensive an defensive alliance). The proposal was
brought before the diet of the cantons assembled at Lucerne.
The king of France "regretted that the duke of Burgundy
would not leave the Swiss in peace ; he promised that his ad
vice and support, whether in men or in money, should not be
wanting to them ; he offered to each canton an annual friendly
donation of two thousand livres ; and he engaged not to sum
mon their valiant warriors to take service save in case of press
ing need and unless Switzerland were Jierself at war." The
question was discussed with animation; the cantons were
divided; some would have nothing to do with either the
alliance or the money of Louis XL, of whom they spoke with
great distrust and antipathy ; others insisted upon the import
ance of being supported by the king of France in their quarrels

352 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxv.

with the duke of Burgundy, and scornfully repudiated the
fear that the influence and money of Louis would bring a taint
upon the independence and the good morals of their country.
The latter opinion carried the day ; and on the 2nd of October,
1474, comformably with a treaty concluded on the 10th of the
previous January between the king of France and the league
of Swiss cantons, the canton of Berne made to the French
legation the following announcement: "If, in the future, the
said lords of the league asked help from the king of France
against the duke of Burgundy, and if the said lord king, being
engaged in his own wars, could not help them with men, in
this case he should cause to be lodged and handed over to them
in the city of Lyons twenty thousand Rhenish florins every
quarter of a year as long as the war actually continued ; and
we, on our part, do promise, on our faith and honor, that
every time and however many times the said lord king shall
ask help from the said lords of the league, we will take care
that they do help him and aid him with six thousand men in
his wars and expeditions, according to the tenor of the late
alliance and union made between them, howbeit on payment. "
A Bernese messenger carried this announcement to the Bur-
gundian camp before the fortress of Neuss, and delivered it
into the hands of Duke Charles himself, whose only remark, as
he ground his teeth, was "Ah! Berne! Berne!" At the be
ginning of January, 1476, he left Nancy, of which he had re
cently gained possession, returned to Besangon, and started
thence on the 6th of February to take the field with an army
amounting, it is said, to thirty or forty thousand men, pro
vided with a powerful artillery and accompanied by an im
mense baggage-train, wherein Charles delighted to display his
riches and magnificence in contrast with the simplicity and
roughness of his personal habits. At the rumor of such an
armament the Swiss attempted to keep off the war from their
country. " I have heard tell," says Commynes, " by a knight
of theirs, who had been sent by them to the said duke, that he
told him that against them he could gain nothing, for that
then" country was very barren and poor ; that there were no
good prisoners to make, and that the spurs and the horses' bits
in his own army were worth more money than all the people
of their territory could pay in ransom even if they were taken."
Charles, however, gave no heed, saw nothing in their repre
sentations but an additional reason for hurrying on his move
ments with confidenc and on the 19th of February arrived

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 353

before Granson, a little town in the district of Vaud, where
war had already begun.

Louis XI. watched all these incidents closely, keeping agents
every where, treating secretly with every body, with the duke
of Burgundy as well as with the Swiss, knowing perfectly well
what he wanted, but holding himself ready to face any thing,
no matter what the event might be. When he saw that the
crisis was coming, lie started from Tours and went to take up
his quarters at Lyons, close to the theatre of war and within
an easy distance for speedy information and prompt action.
Scarcely had he arrived, on the 4th of March, when he learned
that, on the day but one before, Duke Charles had been
tremendously beaten by the Swiss at Granson ; the squadrons
of his chivalry had not been able to make any impression upon
the battalions of Berne, Schwitz, Soleure, and Fribourg, armed
with pikes eighteen feet long ; and at sight of the mountaineers
marching with huge strides and lowered heads upon their foes
and heralding their advance by the lowings of the bull of Uri
and the cow of Unterwalden, two enormous instruments made
of buffalo-horn, and given, it was said, to their ancestors by
Charlemagne, the whole Burgundian army, seized with panic,
had dispersed in all directions, " like smoke before the north
ern blast." Charles himself had been forced to fly with only
five horsemen, it is said, for escort, leaving all his camp,
artillery, treasure, oratory, jewels, down to his very cap
garnished with precious stones and his collar of the Golden
Fleece, in the hands of the " poor Swiss," astounded at their
booty and having no suspicion of its value. "They sold the
silver plate for a few pence, taking it for pewter," says M. De
Barante. Those magnificent silks and velvets, that cloth of
gold and damask, that Flanders lace, and those carpets from
Arras which were found heaped up in chests were cut in pieces
and distributed by the ell like common canvas in a village
shop. The duke's large diamond which he wore round his neck,
and which had once upon a time glittered in the crown of the
Great Mogul, was found on the road, inside a little box set with
fine pearls. The man who picked it up kept the box and threw
away the diamond as a mere bit of glass. Afterwards he
thought better of it ; went to look for the stone, found it under
a wagon, and sold it for a crown to a clergyman of the neigh*
borhood. " There was nothing saved but the bare life," says
Commynes.

That even the bare life was saved was a source of sorrow to

354 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxv.

Louis XI. in the very midst of his joy at the defeat. He was,
nevertheless, most proper in his behaviour and language
towards Duke Charles, who sent to him Sire de Contay " with
humble and gracious words, which was contrary to his nature
and his custom," says Commynes; "but see how an hour's
time changed him ; he prayed the king to be pleased to observe
loyally the truce concluded between them, he excused himself
for not having appeared at the interview which was to have'
taken place at Auxerre, and he bound himself to be present,
shortly, either there or elsewhere, according to the king's good
pleasure." Louis promised him all he asked, "for," adds Com
mynes, "it did not seem to him time, as yet, to do otherwise;"
and he gave the duke the good advice "to return home and
bide there quietly, rather than go on stubbornly warring with
yon folks of the Alps, so poor that there was nought to gain by
taking their lands, but valiant and obstinate in battle." Louis
might give this advice fearlessly, being quite certain that
Charles would not follow it. The latter's defeat at Granson
had thrown him into a state of gloomy irritation. At Lau
sanne, where he stayed for some time, he had "a great sick
ness proceeding," says Commynes, "from grief and sadness on
account of this shame that he had suffered ; and, to tell the
truth, I think that never since was his understanding so good
as it had been before this battle. " Before he fell ill, on the 12th
of March, Charles issued orders from his camp before Lausanne
to his lieutenant at Luxembourg to put under arrest * ' and visit
with the extreme penalty of death, without waiting for other
command from us, all the men-at-arms, archers, cross-bowmen,
infantry, or other soldiery" who had fled or dispersed after the
disaster at Granson; "and as to those who be newly coming
into our service it is ordered by us that they, on pain of the
same punishment, do march towards us with all diligence ; and
if they make any delay, our pleasure is that you proceed
against them in the manner herein-above declared without fail
in anyway." With such fiery and ruthless energy Charles
collected a fresh army, having a strength, it is said, of from
twenty-five to thirty thousand men, Burgundians, Flemings,
Italians, and English ; and after having reviewed it on the plat
form above Lausanne he set out on the 27th of May, 1476, and
6'tched his camp on the 10th of June before the little town of
orat, six leagues from Berne, giving notice every where that
it was war to the death that he intended. The Swiss were ex
pecting it and were prepared for it. The energy of pride was

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461-1483). 355

going to be pitted against the energy of patriotism. "The
duke of Burgundy is here with all his forces, his Italian mer
cenaries and some traitors of Germans," said the letter written
to the Bernese by the governor of Morat, Adrian of Bubenberg;
"the gentlemen of the magistracy, of the council, and of the
burgherhood may be free from fear and hurry, and may set at
rest the minds of all our confederates : I will defend Morat ;"
and he swore to the garrison and the inhabitants that he would
put to death the first who should speak of surrender. Morat
had been for ten days holding out against the whole army of
the Burgundians ; the confederate Swiss were arriving success
ively at Berne ; and the men of Zurich alone were late. Their
fellow-countryman, Hans Waldmann, wrote to them, "We
positively must give battle or we are lost, every one of us.
The Burgundians are three times more numerous than they
were at Granson, but we shall manage to pull through. With
God's help great honor awaits us. Do not fail to come as
quickly as possible." On the 21st of June, in the evening, the
Zurichers arrived. "Ha!" the duke was just saying, "have
these hounds lost heart, pray? I was told that we were about
to get at them." Next day, the 22nd of June, after a pelting
rain and with the first gleams of the returning sun, the Swiss
attacked the Burgundian camp. A man-at-arms came and told
the duke, who would not believe it and dismissed the messenger
with a coarse insult, but hurried, nevertheless, to the point of
attack. The battle was desperate ; but before the close of the
day it was hopelessly lost by the Burgundians. Charles had
still three thousand horse, but he saw them break up, and he
himself had great difficulty in getting away, with nearly a
dozen men behind him, and reaching Morges, twelve leagues
from Morat. Eight or ten thousand of his men had fallen,
more than half, it is said, killed in cold blood after the fight.
Never had the Swiss been so dead set against their foes ; and
"as cruel as Morat" was for a long while a common expres
sion.

"The king," says Commynes, " always willingly gave some
what to him who was the first to bring him some great news,
without forgetting the messenger, and he took pleasure in
speaking thereof before the news came, saying, * I will give so
much to him who first brings me such and such news.' My
lord of Bouchage and I (being together) had the first message
about the battle of Morat and told it both together to the king,
who gave each of us two hundred marks of sUver." Next day

356 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxv.

Louis, as prudent in the hour of joy as of reverse, wrote to
count de Dampmartin, who was in command of his troops con
centrated at Senlis, with orders to hold himself in readiness
for any event, but still carefully observe the truce with the
duke of Burgundy. Charles at time was thinking but little of
Louis and their truce; driven to despair by the disaster at
Morat, but more dead set than ever on the struggle, he repaired
from Morges to Gex and from Gex to Salins, and summoned
successively, in July and August, at Salins, at Dijon, at Brus
sels, and at Luxembourg the estates of his various domains,
making to all of them an appeal, at the same time supplicatory
and imperious, calling upon them for a fresh army with which
to recommence the war with the Swiss, and fresh subsidies
with which to pay it. "If ever," said he, uyou have desired
to serve us and do us pleasure, see to doing and accomplishing
all that is bidden you ; make no default in any thing whatso
ever, and be henceforth in dread of the punishments which
may ensue." But there was every where a feeling of disgust
with the service of Duke Charles ; there was no more desire of
serving him and no more fear of disobeying him • he encoun
tered almost every where nothing but objections, complaints,
and refusals, or else a silence and an inactivity which were
still worse. Indignant, dismayed, and dumbfounded at such
desertion, Charles retired to his castle of La Riviere between
Pontarlier and Joux, and shut himself up there for more than
six weeks, without, however, giving up the attempt to collect
soldiers. "Howbeit," says Commynes, " he made but little of
it ; he kept himself quite solitary, and he seemed to do it from
sheer obstinacy more than any thing else. His natural heat
was so great that he used to drink no wine, generally took
barley-water in the morning and ate preserved rose-leaves to
keep himself cool, but sorrow changed his complexion so much
that he was obliged to drink good strong wine without water,
and, to bring the blood back to his heart, burning tow was put
into cupping-glasses, and they were applied thus heated to the
region of the heart. Such are the passions of those who have
never felt adversity, especially of proud princes who know not
how to discover any remedy. The first refuge, in such a case,
is to have recourse to God, to consider whether one have
offended Him in aught and to confess one's misdeeds. After
that, what does great good is to converse with some friend and
not be ashamed to show one's grief before him, for that light
ens and comforts the heart ; and not at any rate to take the

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 357

course the duke took of concealing himself and keeping himself
solitary ; he was so terrible to his own folks that none durst
come forward to give him any comfort or counsel ; but all left
him to do as he pleased, fearing that, if they made him any re
monstrance, it would be the worst for them. "

But events take no account of the fears and weaknesses of
men. Charles learned before long that the Swiss were not his
most threatening foes, and that he had something else to do
instead of going after them amongst their mountains. During
his two campaigns against them, the duke of Lorraine, Rene
II., whom he had despoiled of his dominions and driven from
Nancy, had been wandering amongst neighboring princes and
people in France, Germany, and Switzerland, at the courts of
Louis XI. and the emperor Frederic III., on visits to the
patricians of Berne, and in the free towns of the Rhine. He
was young, sprightly, amiable, and brave; he had nowhere
met with great assistance, but he had been well received and
certain promises had been made him. When he saw the
contest so hotly commenced between the duke of Burgundy
and the Swiss he resolutely put himself at the service of the
republican mountaineers, fought for them in their ranks,
and powerfully contributed to their victory at Morat. The
defeat of Charles and his retreat to his castle of La Riviere
gave Rene new hopes, and gained him some credit amongst
the powers which had hitherto merely testified towards him a
good will of but little value; and his partisans in Lorraine
recovered confidence in his fortunes. One day as he was at
his prayers in a church a rich widow, Madame Walther, came
up to him in her mantle and hood, made him a deep reverence
and handed him a purse of gold to help him in winning back
his duchy. The city of Strasbourg gave him some cannon,
four hundred cavalry, and eight hundred infantry ; Louis XI.
lent him some money ; and Rene before long found himself in
a position to raise a small army and retake Epinal, Saint-Die,
Vaudemont, and the majority of the small towns in Lorraine.
He then went and laid siege to Nancy. The duke of Bur
gundy had left there as governor John de Rubempre, lord of
Bievres, with a feeble garrison which numbered amongst its
ranks three hundred English, picked men. Sire de Bievres,
sent message after message to Charles, who did not even reply
to him. The town was short of provisions ; the garrison was
dispirited; and the commander of the English was killed.
Sire de Bievres, a loyal servant but a soldier of but little

358 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH, xxr.

energy, determined to capitulate. On the 6th of October,
1476, he evacuated the place at the head of his men, all safe in
person and property. At sight of him Rene" dismounted and
handsomely went forward to meet him, saying, "Sir, my
good uncle, I thank you for having so courteously governed
my duchy ; if you find it agreeable to remain with me, you
shall fare the same as myself." "Sir," answered sire de Bie-
vres, " I hope that you will not think ill of me for this war; I
very much wish that my lord of Burgundy had never begun
it, and I am much afraid that neither he nor I will see the end
of it."

Sire de Bievres had no idea how true a prophet he was.
Almost at the very moment when he was capitulating, Duke
Charles, throwing off his sombre apathy, was once more en
tering Lorraine with all the troops he could collect, and on the
22nd of October he in his turn went and laid siege to Nancy.
Duke Ren6, not considering himself in a position to maintain
the contest with only such forces as he had with him, de
termined to quit Nancy in person and go in search of rein
forcements at a distance, at the same tune leaving in the
town a not very numerous but a devoted garrison which, to
gether with the inhabitants, promised to hold out for two
months. And it did hold out whilst Rene" was visiting Stras
bourg, Berne, Zurich, and Lucerne, presenting himself before
the councils of these petty republics with, in order to please
them, a tame bear behind him, which he left at the doors, and
promising, thanks to Louis XI. 's agents in Switzerland, extra
ordinary pay. He thus obtained auxiliaries to the number of
eight thousand fighting-men. He had, moreover, in the very
camp of the duke of Burgundy, a secret ally, an Italian con-
dottiere, the count of Campo-Basso, who, either from personal
hatred or on grounds of interest, was betraying the master to
whom he had bound himself. The year before, he had made
an offer to Louis XI. to go over to him with his troops during
a battle or to hand over to him the duke of Burgundy, dead or
alive. Louis mistrusted the traitor, and sent Charles notice of
the offers made by Campo-Basso. But Charles mistrusted
Louis' information and kept Campo-Basso in his service. A
little before the battle of Morat Louis had thought better of
his scruples or his doubts and had accepted, with the com
pensation of a pension, the kind offices of Campo-Basso.
When the war took place in Lorraine, the condottiere, whom
Duke Charles had one day grossly insulted, entered into com-

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461—1488). 859

munication with Duke Rene also, and took secret measures
for insuring the failure of the Burgundian attempts upon
Nancy. Such was the position of the two princes and the two
armies when on the 4th of June, 1477, Rene*, having returned
with reinforcements to Lorraine, found himself confronted
with Charles, who was still intent upon the siege of Nancy.
The duke of Burgundy assembled his captains. "Well!" said
he, "since these drunken scoundrels are upon us and are
coming here to look for meat and drink, what ought we to
do?" The majority of those present were of opinion that the
right thing to do was to fall back into the duchy of Luxem
bourg, there to recruit the enfeebled army. "Duke Rene,"
they said, " is poor; he will not be able to bear very long the
expense of the war, and his allies will leave him as soon as he
has no more money; wait but a little, and success is certain."
Charles flew into a passion. "My father and I, "said he,
"knew how to thrash these Lorrainers; and we will make
them remember it. By St. George! I will not fly before a
boy, before Rene of Vaudemont, who is coming at the head of
this scum. He has not so many men with him as people
think ; the Germans have no idea of leaving their stoves in
winter. This evening we will deliver the assault against the
town, and to-morrow we will give battle."

And the next day, January the 5th, the battle did take
place, in the plain of Nancy. The duke of Burgundy assumed
his armor very early in the morning. When he put on his
helmet, the gilt lion, which formed the crest of it, fell off.
"That is a sign from God!" said he; but, nevertheless, he
went and drew up his army in line of battle. The day but one
before, Campo- Basso had drawn off his troops to a consider
able distance; and he presented himself before Duke Rene,
having taken off his red scarf and his cross of St. Andrew,
and being quite ready, he said, to give proofs of his zeal on
the spot. Rene spoke about it to his Swiss captains. "We
have no mind," said they, "to have this traitor of an Italian
fighting beside us ; our fathers never made use of such folk or
such practices in order to conquer." And Campo- Basso held
aloof. The battle began in gloomy weather and beneath
heavy flakes of snow, lasted but a short time, and was not at
all murderous in the actual conflict, but the pursuit was ter
rible. Campo-Basso and his troops held the bridge of Bouxi-
eres, by which the Burgundian fugitives would want to pasa;
and the Lorrainers of Rene* and his Swiss and German allies

1? VOL. 2

360 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxv.

icoured the country, killing all with whom they fell in.
Rene" returned to Nancy in the midst of a population whom
his victory had delivered from famine as well as war. "To
show him what sufferings they had endured," says M. de
Barante, "they conceived the idea of piling up in a heap
before the door of his hostel, the heads of the horses, dogs,
cats, and other unclean animals which had for several weeks
past been the only food of the besieged." When the first
burst of joy was over, the question was what had become of
the duke of Burgundy; nobody had a notion; and his body
was not found amongst the dead in any of the places where
his most valiant and faithful warriors had fallen. The rumor
ran that he was not dead ; some said that one of his servants
had picked him up wounded on the field of battle, and was
taking care of him none knew where ; and according to others,
a German lord had made him prisoner, and carried him off be
yond the Rhine. " Take good heed," said many people, " how
ye comport yourselves otherwise than if he were still alive,
for his vengeance would be terrible on his return." On the
evening of the day after the battle the Count of Campo-Basso
brought to Duke Rene a young Roman page who, he said, had
from a distance seen his master fall and could easily find the
spot again. Under his guidance a move was made towards a
pond hard by the town ; and there, half -buried in the slush of
the pond, were some dead bodies lying stripped. A poor
washerwoman, amongst the rest, had joined in the search;
she saw the glitter of a jewel in the ring upon one of the
fingers of a corpse whose face was not visible ; she went for
ward, turned the body over, and at once cried, "Ah I my
prince !" There was a rush to the spot immediately. As the
head was being detached from the ice to which it stuck, the
skin came off and a large wound was discovered. On ex
amining the body with care, it was unhesitatingly recognized
to be that of Charles, by his doctor, by his chaplain, by Oliver
de la Marche, his chamberlain, and by several grooms of the
chamber ; and certain marks, such as the scar of the wound
he had received at Montlhery, and the loss of two teeth, put
their assertion beyond a doubt. As soon as Duke Rene knew
that they had at last found the body of the duke of Burgundy,
he had it removed to the town, and laid on a bed of state of
black velvet, under a canopy of black satin. It was dressed
in a garment of white satin -, a ducal crown, set with precious
stones, was placed on the disfigured brow; the lower limbs

OH. xxv.] LOUIS XI. (1461-1483). 361

were cased in scarlet, and on the heels were gilded spurs.
The duke of Lorraine went and sprinkled holy water on the
corpse of his unhappy rival, and, taking the dead hand be
neath the pall, "Ah! dear cousin," said he, with tears in his
eyes, "may God be pleased to receive your soul! You have
caused us many woes and sorrows!" Then he kissed the
hand, fell on his knees, and remained praying for the space of
a quarter of an hour. The corpse was with all state taken up
and removed to the church of St. George, where it rested until
1550, the year in which Charles V. (the Emperor), his great-
grandson, had it transferred to Bruges, where there was
written over his tomb : —

"Here lieth the most high, mighty, and magnanimous
prince, Charles, duke of Burgundy .... the which, being
mightily endowed with strength, firmness, and magnanimity,
prospered awhile in high enterprises, battles, and victories, as
well at Montlhery, in Normandy, in Artois, and in Liege as
elsewhere, until fortune, turning her back on him, thus crushed
him before Nancy. "

Nearly a hundred years after the death of Charles the Rash
or the Bold, or the Terrible, for all three names were given him
in his lifetime, his great grandson, Charles V., could inscribe
upon his tomb, that "fortune alone, turning her back on him,
thus rushed him before Nancy;" but the most clear-sighted
amongst the contemporaries of the last duke of Burgundy, and
the man, most surely, who knew him best, that is, Philip de
Commynes, has pronounced judgment on the matter with more
freedom and more truth, without being too severe. "I saw
him," says he, "a great and honorable prince, as much es
teemed for a time amongst his neighbors as any prince in
Christendom, or peradventure more. I saw no cause for the
which he should have incurred the wrath of God, if not that
all the favors and honors he received in this world, he deemed
that they all came of his own sense and virtue, without attri
buting them to God, as he was bound to do. For, in truth, he
had in him good and virtuous parts ; no prince ever surpassed
him in the desire of feeding his people well, and keeping them
well ordered ; though his benefactions were not very large, be
cause he had a mind that every one should feel somewhat of
them. Never did any more freely give audience to servants
and subjects. For the time that I knew him he was not cruel ;
but he became so before his death, and that was a bad omen
for a long existence. He was very sumptuous in dress and in

362 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxy.

all other matters, and a little too much so. He showed very
great honor to ambassadors and foreign folks ; they were right
well feasted and entertained by him. He was desirous of great
glory, and it was the more than aught else that brought him
into his wars ; he would have been right glad to be like to those
ancient princes of whom there has been so much talk after
their death ; he was as bold a man as any that reigned in his
day. . . . After the long felicity and great riches of this house
of Burgundy, and after three great princes, good and wise,
who had lasted six score years and more in good sense and
virtue, God gave this people the Duke Charles, who kept them
constantly in great war, travail, and expense, and almost as
much in winter as in summer. Many rich and comfortable
folks were dead or ruined in prison during these wars. The
grert losses began in front of Neuss, and continued through
three or four battles up to the hour of his death ; and at that
hour all the strength of his country was sapped ; and dead, or
ruined, or captive, were all who could or would have defended
the dominions and the honor of his house. Thus it seems that
this loss was an equal set off to the time of their felicity.
Please God to forgive Duke Charles his sins !"

To this pious wish of Commynes, after so judicious a sketch,
we may add another : Please God that people may no more
suffer themselves to be taken captive by the corrupting and
ruinous pleasures, procured for them by their masters' grand
but wicked or foolish enterprises, and may learn to give to the
men who govern them a glory in proportion to the wisdom and
justice of their deeds, and by no means to the noise they make
and the risks they sow broadcast around them !

The news of the death of Charles the Rash was for Louis XI.
an unexpected and unhoped for blessing, and one in which he
could scarcely believe. The news reached him on the 9th of
January, at the castle of Plessis-les-Tours, by the medium of a
courier sent to him by George de la TremoiUe, sire de Craon,
commanding his troops on the frontier of Lorraine. "In so
much as this house of Burgundy was greater and more power
ful than the others/' says Commynes, " was the pleasure great
for the king more than all the others together ; it was the joy
of seeing himself set above all those he hated and above his
principal foes ; it might well seem to him that he would never
in his life meet any to gainsay him in his kingdom, or in the
neighborhood near him. " He replied the same day to sire de
Craon: "Sir count, my good friend, I have received your

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461-1483). 363

letters, and the good news you have brought to my knowledge,
for which I thank you as much as I am able. Now is the time
for you to employ all your five natural wits to put the duchy
and the countship of Burgundy in my hands. And, to that
end, place yourself with your band and the governor of Cham
pagne, if so be that the duke of Burgundy is dead, within the
said country, and take care, for the dear love you bear me,
that you maintain amongst the men of war the best order, just
as if you were inside Paris ; and make known to them that I
am minded to treat them and keep them better than any in my
kingdom ; and that, in respect of our god-daughter, I have an
intention of completing the marriage that I have already had
in contemplation between my lord the dauphin and her. Sir
count, I consider it understood that you will not enter the said
country, or make mention of that which is written above,
unless the duke of Burgundy be dead. And, in any case, I
pray you to serve me in accordance with the confidence I have
in you. And adieu !"

Beneath the discreet reserve inspired by a remnant of doubt
concerning the death of his enemy, this letter contained the
essence of Louis XL's grand and very natural stroke of policy.
Charles the Rash had left only a daughter, Mary of Burgundy,
sole heiress of all his dominions To annex this magnificent
heritage to the crown of France by the marriage of the heiress
with the dauphin who was one day to be Charles VIII. , was
clearly for the best interests of the nation as well as of the
French kingship, and such had accordingly, been Louis XL's
first idea. * * When the duke of Burgundy was still alive, " says
Commynes, "many a tune spoke the king to me of what he
would do if the duke should happen to die ; and he spoke most
reasonably, saying that he would try to make a match between
his son (who is now our king) and the said duke's daughter
(who was afterwards duchess of Austria) ; and if she were not
minded to hear of it for that my lord, the dauphin, was much
younger than she, he would essay to get her married to some
young lord of his realm, for to keep her and her subjects in
amity, and to recover without dispute that which he claimed
as his ; and still was the said lord on this subject a week before
he knew of the said duke's death. . . . Howbeit it seems that
the king our master took not hold of matters by the end by
which he should have taken hold for to come out triumphant,
and to add to his crown all those great lordships, either b^
gound title or by marriage, as easily he might have done."

364 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. XX7.

Comraynes does not explain or specify clearly the mistake
with which he reproaches his master. Louis XI., in spite of
his sound sense and correct appreciation, generally, of the
political interests of France and of his crown, allowed himself
on this great occasion to be swayed by secondary considera
tions and personal questions. His son's marriage with the
heiress of Burgundy might cause some embarrassment in his
relations with Edward IV., king of England, to whom he had
promised the dauphin as a husband for his daughter Elizabeth,
who was already sometimes called in England the dauphiness.
In 1477, at the death of the duke her father, Mary of Burgundy
was twenty years old, and Charles, the dauphin, was barely
eight. There was another question, a point of feudal law, as
to whether Burgundy, properly so called, was a fief which
women could inherit, or a fief which, in default of a male heir,
must lapse to the suzerain. Several of the Flemish towns
which belonged to the duke of Burgundy were weary of his
wars and his violence, and showed an inclination to pass over
to the sway of the king of France. All these facts offered
pretexts, opportunities, and chances of success for that course
of egotistical pretention and cunning intrigue in which Louis
delighted and felt confident of his ability; and into it he
plunged after the death of Charles the Rash. Though he still
spoke of his desire of marrying his son, the dauphin, to Mary
of Burgundy, it was no longer his dominant and ever-present
idea. Instead of taking pains to win the good will and the
heart of Mary herself, he labored with his usual zeal and ad
dress to dispute her rights, to despoil her brusquely of one or
another town in her dominions, to tamper with her servants,
or excite against them the wrath of the populace. Two of the
most devoted and most able amongst them, Hugonet, the chan
cellor of Burgundy, and sire d'Humbercourt, were the victims
of Louis XL's hostile manceuvers and of blind hatred on the
part of the Ghentese ; and all the Princess Mary's passionate en
treaties were powerless both with the king and with the Flem
ings to save them from the scaffold, And so Mary, alternately
threatened or duped, attacked in her just rights or outraged in
her affections, being driven to extremity exhibited a resolution
never to become the daughter of a prince unworthy of the con
fidence she, poor orphan, had placed in the spiritual tie which
marked him out as her protector. "I understand," said sho,
"that my father had arranged my marriage with the emperor's
son; I have no mind for any other." Louis in his alarm tried

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 365

all sorts of means, seductive and violent, to prevent such a
reverse. He went in person amongst the Walloon and Flem
ish provinces belonging to Mary. "That I come into this
country," said he to the inhabitants of Quesnoy, "is for noth
ing but the interests of Mdlle. de Burgundy, my well-beloved
cousin and god-daughter. ... Of her wicked advisers some
would have her spouse the duke of Cleves ; but he is a prince
of far too little lustre for so illustrious a princess ; I know that
he has a bad sore on his leg ; he is a drunkard, like all Ger
mans, and, after drinking, he will break his glass over her
head and beat her. Others would ally her with the English,
the kingdom's old enemies, who all lead bad lives : there are
some who would give her for her husband the emperor's son,
but those princes of the imperial house are the most avaricious
in the world ; they will carry off Mdlle. de Burgundy to Ger
many, a strange land and a coarse, where she will know no
consolation, whilst your land of Hainault will be left without
any lord to govern and defend it. If my cousin were well ad
vised, she would espouse the dauphin ; you speak French, you
Walloon people ; you want a prince of France, not a German.
As for me, I esteem the folks of Hainault more than any nation
in the world ; there is none more noble, and in my sight a hind
of Hainault is worth more than a grand gentleman of any other
country." At the very time that he was using such flattering
language to the good folks of Hainault, he was writing to the
count de Dampmartin, whom he had charged with the repres
sion of insurrection in the country-parts of Ghent and Bruges :
"Sir grand master, I send you some mowers to cut down the
crop you wot off ; put them, I pray you, to work and spare not
some casks of wine to set them drinking and to make them
drunk. I pray you, my friend, let there be no need to return
a second time to do the mowing, for you are as much crown-
officer as I am, and, if I am king, you are grand master."
Dampmartin executed the king's orders without scruple ; and
at the season of harvest the Flemish country-places were de
vastated. "Little birds of heaven," cries the Flemish chron
icler Molinet, * ' ye who are wont to haunt our fields and
rejoice our hearts with your amorous notes, now seek out
other countries ; get ye hence from our tillages, for the king of
the mowers of France hath done worse to us than do the
tempests."

All the efforts of Louis XI., his winning speeches, and his
ruinous deeds, did not succeed in averting the serious check he

366* HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH.

dreaded. On the 18th of August, 1477, seven months after the
battle of Nancy and the death of Charles the Hash, Archduke
Maximilian, son of the Emperor Frederick III., arrived at
Ghent to wed Mary of Burgundy. "The moment he caught
sight of his betrothed," say the Flemish chroniclers, "they
both bent down to the ground and turned as pale as death:
a sign of mutual love according to some, an omen of unhappi-
ness according to others." Next day, August 19th, the mar
riage was celebrated with great simplicity in the chapel of the
Hotel de Ville; and Maximilian swore to respect the privi
leges of Ghent. A few days afterwards he renewed the same
oath at Bruges, in the midst of decorations bearing the modest
device, "Most glorious prince, defend us lest we perish"
(Gloriosissime princeps, defende nos ne pereamus). Not only
did Louis XI. thus fail in his first wise design of incorporating
with France, by means of a marriage between his son the dau
phin and Princess Mary, the heritage of the dukes of Burgundy,
tout he suffered the heiress and a great part of the heritage to
pass into the hands of the son of the German Emperor ; and
thereby he paved the way for that determined rivalry be
tween the houses of France and Austria, which was a source
of so many dangers and woes to both states during three cen
turies. It is said that in 1745, when Louis XV. after the battle
of Fontenoy entered Bruges cathedral, he remarked as he
gazed on the tombs of the Austro-Burgundian princes, " There
is the origin of all our wars." In vain, when the marriage of
Maximilian and Mary was completed, did Louis XI. attempt
to struggle against his new and dangerous neighbor ; his cam
paigns in the Flemish provinces, in 1478 and 1479, had no great
result ; he lost on the 7th of August, 1479, the battle of Guine-
gate, between St. Omer and Therouanne ; and before long, tired
of war which was not his favorite theatre for the display of
his abilities, he ended by concluding with Maximilian a truce
at first, and then a peace, which, in spite of some conditionals
favorable to France, left the principal and the fatal conse
quences of the Austro-Burgundian marriage to take full effect.
This event marked the stoppage of that great, national policy
which had prevailed during the first part of Louis XL's reign.
Joan of Arc and Charles VII. had driven the English from
France ; and for sixteen years Louis XI. had, by fighting and
gradually destroying the great vassals who made alliance with
them, prevented them from regaining a footing there. That
was work as salutary as it was glorious for the nation and the

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 361

French kingship. At the death of Charles the Rash the work
was accomplished ; Louis XI. was the only power left in
France, without any great peril from without and without any
great rival within ; but he then fell under the sway of mistaken
ideas and a vicious spirit. The infinite resources of his mind,
the agreeableness of his conversation, his perseverance com
bined with the pliancy of his will, the services he was render
ing France, the successes he in the long-run frequently obtained,
and his ready apparent resignation under his reverses, for a
while made up for or palliated his faults, his falsehoods, his
perfidies, his iniquities ; but when evil is predominant at the
bottom of a man's soul, he cannot do without youth and suc
cess ; he cannot make head against age and decay, reverse of
fortune and the approach of death ; and so Louis XL when old
in years, master-power still though beaten in his last game of
policy, appeared to all as he really was and as he had been pre-
discerned to be by only such eminent observers as Commynes,
that is, a crooked, swindling, utterly selfish, vindictive, cruel
man. Not only did he hunt down implacably the men who,
after having served him, had betrayed or deserted him; he
revelled in the vengeance he took and the sufferings he inflicted
on them. He had raised to the highest rank both in state and
church the son of a cobbler, or, according to others, of a tailor,
one John de Balue, born in 1421, at the market-town of Angles,
in Poitou. After having chosen him, as an intelligent and a
clever young priest, for his secretary and almoner, Louis made
him successively clerical councellor in the parliament of Paris,
then bishop of Evreux, and afterwards cardinal ; and he em
ployed him in his most private affairs. It was a hobby of his
thus to make the fortunes of men born in the lowest stations,
hoping that, since they would owe every thing to him, they
would never depend on any but him. It is scarcely credible
that so keen and contemptuous a judge of human nature could
have reckoned on dependence as a pledge of fidelity. And in
this case Louis was, at any rate, mistaken ; Balue was a traitor
to him, and in 1468, at the very time of the incident at Peronne,
he was secretly in the service of Duke Charles of Burgundy,
and betrayed to him the interests and secrets of his master
and benefactor. In 1469 Louis obtained material proof of the
treachery ; and he immediately had Balue arrested and put on
his trial. The cardinal confessed every thing, asking only to
see the king. Louis gave him an interview on the way from
Amboise to Notre-dame de C16ry ; and they were observed, it

368 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxv.

is said, conversing for two hours, as they walked together on
the road. The trial and condemnation of a cardinal by a civil
tribunal was a serious business with the Court of Rome. The
king sent commissioners to Pope Paul II. : the pope complained
of the procedure, but amicably and without persistence. The
cardinal was in prison at Loches ; and Louis resolved to leave
him there forever, without any more fuss. But at the same
time that out of regard for the dignity of cardinal, which he
had himself requested of the pope for the culprit, he dispensed
with the legal condemnation to capital punishment, he was
bent upon satisfying his vengeance, and upon making Balue
suffer in person for his crime. He therefore had him confined
in a cage, "eight feet broad,'' says Commynes, "and only one
foot higher than a man's stature, covered with iron plates out
side and inside, and fitted with terrible bars." There is still to
be seen in Loches castle, under the name of the Balue cage,
that instrument of prison-torture which the cardinal, it is said,
himself invented. In it he passed eleven years, and it was not
until 1480 that he was let out, at the solicitation of Pope Sixtus
IV. , to whom Louis XI. , being old and ill, thought he could
not possibly refuse this favor. He remembered, perhaps, at
that time how that, sixteen years before, in writing to his
lieutenant-general in Poitou to hand over to Balue, bishop of
Evreux, the property of a certain abbey, he said, "He is a
devilish good bishop just now; I know not what he will be
hereafter."

He was still more pitiless towards a man more formidable
and less subordinate, both in character and origin, than Car
dinal Balue. Louis of Luxembourg, count of St. Pol, had
been from his youth up engaged in the wars and intrigues of
the sovereigns and great feudal lords of western Europe,
France, England, Germany, Burgundy, Brittany, and Lor
raine. From 1433 to 1475 he served and betrayed them all in
turn, seeking and obtaining favors, incurring and braving
rancor, at one time on one side and at another time on an
other, acting as constable of France and as diplomatic agent
for the duke of Burgundy, raising troops and taking towns for
Louis XI., for Charles the Rash, for Edward IV., for the Ger
man emperor, and trying nearly always to keep for himself
what he had taken on another's account. The truth is that he
was constantly occupied with the idea of making for himself
an independent dominion and becoming a great sovereign.
"He was," says Duclos, "powerful from his possemons, a

en. xxv. J LOUIS XL (1461—1483). 369

great captain, more ambitious than politic, and, from his in
gratitude and his perfidies, worthy of his tragic end." His
various patrons grew tired at last of being incessantly taken
up with and then abandoned, served and then betrayed ; and
they mutually interchanged proofs of the desertions and trea
sons to which they had been victims. In 1475 Louis of Lux
embourg saw a storm threatening; and he made application
for a safe-conduct to Charles the Rash, who had been the
friend of his youth. " Tell him," replied Charles to the mes
senger, "that he has forfeited his paper and his hope as well;"
and he gave orders to detain him. As soon as Louis XI. knew
whither the constable had retired, he demanded of the duke of
Burgundy to give him up as had been agreed between them.
"I have need," said he, "for my heavy business of a head
like his;" and he added with a ghastly smile, "it is only the
head I want; the body may stay where it is." On the 24th of
November, 1475, the constable was, accordingly, given up to
the king; and, on the 27th, was brought to Paris. His trial,
begun forthwith, was soon over ; he himself acknowledged the
greater part of what was imputed to him ; and on the 19th of
December he was brought up from the Bastille before the par
liament. "My lord of St. Pol," said the chancellor to him,
"you have always passed for being the firmest lord in the
realm; you must not belie yourself to-day, when you have
more need than ever of firmness and courage ;" and he read to
him the decree which sentenced him to lose his head that very
day on the Place de Greve. "That is a mighty hard sen
tence," said the constable; " I pray God that I may see Him
to-day." And he underwent execution with serene and pious
firmness. He was of an epoch when the most criminal enter
prises did not always preclude piety. Louis XI. did not look
after the constable's accomplices. " He flew at the heads,"
says Duclos, "and was set on making great examples; he was
convinced that noble blood, when it is guilty, should be shed
rather than common blood. Nevertheless there was consid
ered to be something indecent in the cession by the king to
the duke of Burgundy of the constable's possessions. It
seemed like the price of the blood of an unhappy man, who,
being rightfully sacrificed only to justice and public tran-
quility, appeared to be so to vengeance, ambition, and ava
rice."

In August, 1477, ths battle of Nancy had been fought;
Charles the Rash had been killed; and the line of the dukes of

370 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxv.

Burgundy had been extinguished. Louis XI. remained mas
ter of the battlefield on which the great risks and great scenes
of his life had been passed through. It seemed as if he ought
to fear nothing now, and that the day for clemency had come.
But such was not the king's opinion ; two cruel passions, sus
picion and vengeance, had taken possession of his soul ; he re
mained convinced, not without reason, that nearly all the
great feudal lords who had been his foes were continuing to
conspire against him, and that he ought not, on his side, ever
to cease from striving against them. The trial of the consta
ble, St. Pol, had confirmed all his suspicions ; he had discov
ered thereby traces and almost proofs of a design for a long
time past conceived and pursued by the constable and his
associates, the design of seizing the king, keeping him prisoner,
and setting his son, the dauphin, on the throne, with a regency
composed of a council of lords. Amongst the declared or pre
sumed adherents of this project, the king had found James
d'Armagnac, duke of Nemours, the companion and friend of
his youth, for his father, the count of Pardtec, had been gov
ernor to Louis, at that time dauphin. Louis, on becoming
king, had loaded James d' Annagnac with favors ; had raised
his countship of Nemours to a duchy-peerage of France ; had
married him to Louise of Anjou, daughter of the count of
Maine and niece of King Rene. The new duke of Nemours
entered, nevertheless, into the League of Common Weal
against the king. Having been included, in 1465, with the
other chiefs of the league in the treaty of Conflans and recon
ciled with the king, the duke of Nemours made oath to him in
the Sainte-Chapelle, to always be to him a good, faithful, and
loyal subject, and thereby obtained the governorship of Paris
and Ile-de-France. But, in 1469, he took part in the revolt of
his cousin, Count John d'Armagnac, who was supposed to be
in communication with the English; and, having been van
quished by the count de Dampmartin, he had need of a fresh
pardon from the king, which he obtained on renouncing the
privileges of the peerage if he should offend again. He then
withdrew within his own dominions, and there lived in tran-
quility and popularity, but still keeping up secret relations
with his old associates, especially with the duke of Burgundy
and the constable of St. Pol. In 1476, during the duke of Bur
gundy's first campaign against the Swiss, the more or less
active participation of the duke of Nemours with the king's
enemies appeared to Louis so grave, that he gave orders to his

CH. xxY.J LOUIS XI. (1461-1488). 371

son-in-law, Peter of Bourbon, sire de Beaujeu, to go and be
siege him in his castle of Carlat, in Auvergne. The duke of
Nemours was taken prisoner there and carried off to Vienne,
in Dauphiny, where the king then happened to be. In spite
of the prisoner's entreaties, Louis absolutely refused to see
him and had him confined in the tower of Pierre-Encise. The
duke of Nemours was so disquieted at his position and the
king's wrath, that his wife, Louise of Anjou, who was in her
confinement at Carlat, had a fit of terror and died there ; and
he himself, shut up at Pierre-Encise in a dark and damp dun
geon, found his hair turn white in a few days. He was not
mistaken about the gravity of the danger. Louis was both
alarmed at these incessantly renewed conspiracies of the great
lords and vexed at the futility of his pardons. He was deter
mined to intimidate his enemies by a grand example and
avenge his kingly self-respect by bringing his power home to
the ingrates who made no account of his indulgence. He or
dered that the duke of Nemours should be removed from
Pierre-Encise to Paris, and put in the Bastille, where he ar
rived on the 4th of August, 1476; and that commissioners
should set about his trial. The king complained of the gentle
ness with which the prisoner had been treated on arrival, and
wrote to one of the commissioners: " It seems to me that you
have but one thing to do, that is to find out what guarantees
the duke of Nemours had given the constable of being at one
with him in making the duke of Burgundy regent, putting me
to death, seizing my lord the dauphin, and taking the au
thority and government of the realm. He must be made to
speak clearly on this point, and must get hell (be put to the
torture) in good earnest. I am not pleased at what you tell
me as to the irons having been taken off his legs, as to his
being let out from his cage, and as to his being taken to the
mass to which the women go. Whatever the chancellor or
others may say, take care that he budge not from his cage,
that he be never let out save to give him hell (torture him),
and that he suffer hell (torture) in his own chamber." The
duke of Nemours protested against the choice of commission
ers and claimed, as a peer of the realm, his right to be tried
by the parliament. When put to the torture he ended by say
ing, " I wish to conceal nothing from the king; I will tell him
the truth as to all I know." " My most dread and sovereign
lord, "he himself wrote to Louis, "I have been so misdoing
towards you and towards God that I quite see that I am un-

372 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. XXY.

done unless your grace and pity be extended to me ; the which,
accordingly, most humbly and in great bitterness and contri
tion of heart, I do beseech you to bestow upon me liberally ;"
and he put the simple signature, "Poor James." "He con
fessed that he had been cognizant of the constable's designs;
but, he added that, whilst thanking him for the kind offers
made to himself, and whilst testifying his desire that the lords
might at last get their guarantees, he had declared what great
obligations and great oaths he was under to the king, against
the which he would not go ; he, moreover, had told the con
stable he had no money at the moment to dispose of, no rela
tive to whom he was inclined to trust himself or whom he
could exert himself to win over, not even M. d'Albret, his
cousin." In such confessions there was enough to stop up
right and fair judges from the infliction of capital punishment,
but not enough to re-assure and move the heart of Louis XI.
On the chancellor's representations he consented to have the
business sent before the parliament ; but the peers of the realm
were not invited to it. The king summoned the parliament to
Noyon, to be nearer his own residence ; and he ordered that
the trial should be brought to a conclusion in that town and
that the original commissioners who had commenced proceed
ings as well as thirteen other magistrates and officers of the
king denoted by their posts should sit with the lords of the
parliament and deliberate with them.

In spite of so many arbitary precautions and violations of
justice the will of Louis XI. met, even in a parliament thus
distorted, with some resistance. Three of the commissioners
added to the court abstained from taking any part in the pro
ceedings ; three of the councillors pronounced against the pen
alty of death ; and the king's own son-in-law, sire de Beaujeu,
who presided, confined himself to collecting the votes, without
delivering an opinion, and to announcing the decision. It was
to the effect that "James d'Armagnac, duke of Nemours, was
guilty of high treason, and, as such, deprived of all honors,
dignities, and prerogatives, and sentenced to be beheaded and
executed according to justice." Furthermore, the court de
clared all his possessions confiscated and lapsed to the king.
The sentence, determined upon at Noyon on the 10th of July,
1477, was made known to the duke of Nemours on the 4th of
August, in the bastille, and carried out the same day in front
of the market-place. A disgusting detail reproduced by several
modern writers, has almost been received into history. Louis

CH. xxv.j LOUIS XL (1461—1483), 373

XI. , it is said, ordered the children of the duke of Nemours to
be placed under the scaffold and be sprinkled with their father's
blood. None of his contemporaries, even the most hostile to
Louis XL, and even amongst those who, at the states-general
held in 1484, one of them after his death, raised their voices
against the trial of the duke of Nemours and in favor of his
children, has made any mention of this pretended atrocity.
Amongst the men who have reigned and governed ably, Louis
XL is one of those who could be most justly taxed with cruel
indifference when cruelty might be useful to him; but the
more ground there is for severe judgment upon the chieftains
of nations, the stronger is the interdict against overstepping
the limit justified and authorized by facts.

The same rule of historical equity makes it incumbent upon
us to remark that, in spite of his feelings of suspicion and
revenge, Louis XL could perfectly well appreciate the men of
honor in whom he was able to have confidence and would
actually confide in them even contrary to ordinary probabili
ties. He numbered amongst his most distinguished servants
three men who had begun by serving his enemies and whom
he conquered, so to speak, by his penetration and his firm
mental grasp of policy. The first was Philip of Chabannes,
count de Dampmartin, an able and faithful military leader
under Charles VII. , so suspected by Louis XL at his accession,
that, when weary of living in apprehension and retirement he
came, in 1463, and presented himself to the king who was on
his way to Bordeaux, " Ask you justice or mercy?" demanded
Louis; "Justice, sir, "was the answer. "Very well, then,"
replied the king, " I banish you for ever from the kingdom.*1
And he issued an order to that effect, at the same time giving
Dampmartin a large sum to supply the wants of exile. It is
credible that Louis already knew the worth of the man and
wished in this way to render their reconciliation more easy.
Three years afterwards, in 1466, he restored to Dampmartin
his possessions together with express marks of royal favor,
and twelve years later in 1478, in spite of certain gusts of doubt
and disquietude which had passed across his mind as to Damp-
martin under circumstances critical for both of them, the king
wrote to him, "Sir grand-master, I have received your letters
and I do assure you, by the faith of my body, that I am right
joyous that you provided so well for your affair at Quesnoy,
for one would have said that you and the rest of the old ones
were no longer any good in BSD. affair of war, and we and the

374 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxy.

rest of the young ones would have gotten the honor for our
selves. Search, I pray you, to the very roots the case of those
who would have betrayed us, and punish them so well that
they shall never do you harm. I have always told you that
you have no need to ask me for leave to go and do your busi
ness, for I am sure that you would not abandon mine without
having provided for every thing. Wherefore, I put myself in
your hands and you can go away without leave. All goes
well ; and I am much better pleased at your holding your own
so well than if you had risked a loss of two to one. And so
farewell 1 " In 1465, another man of war, Odet d'Aydie, lord
of Lescun in Beam, had commanded at Montlhery the troops
of the duke of Berry and Brittany against Louis XI. ; and, in
1469, the king who had found means of making his acquaint
ance, and who " was wiser," says Commynes, " in the conduct
of such treaties than any other prince of his time," resolved to
employ him in his difficult relations with his brother Charles,
then duke of Guienne, ' ' promising him that he and his ser
vants, and he especially, should profit thereby.'' Three years
afterwards, in 1472, Louis made Lescun count of Comminges,
" wherein he showed good judgment, "adds Commynes, " say
ing that no peril would come of putting in his hands that
which he did put, for never, during those past dissensions, had
the said Lescun a mind to have any communication with the
English, or to consent that the places of Normandy should be
handed over to them ;" and to the end of his life Louis XI.
kept up the confidence which Lescun had inspired by his
judicious fidelity in the case of this great question. There is
no need to make any addition to the name of Philip de
Commynes, the most precious of the politic conquests made by
Louis in the matter of eminent counsellors to whom he re
mained as faithful as they were themselves faithful and useful
to him. The M&moires of Commynes are the most striking
proof of the rare and unfettered political intellect placed by
the future historian at the king's service and of the estimation
in which the king had wit enough to hold it.

Louis XI. rendered to France four centuries ago, during a
reign of twenty-two years, three great services, the traces and
influence of which exist to this day. He prosecuted steadily
the work of Joan of Arc and Charles VII. , the expulsion of a
foreign kingship and the triumph of national independence
and national dignity. By means of the provinces which he
successively won, wholly or partly, Burgundy, Franehe-Comt6,

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461-1488). 375

Artois, Provence, Anjou, Eoussillon, and Barrels, he caused
France to make a great stride towards territorial unity within
her natural boundaries. By the defeat he inflicted on the great
vassals, the favor he showed the middle classes, and the use he
had the sense to make of this new social force, he contributed
powerfully to the formation of the French nation and to its
unity under a national government. Feudal society had not
an idea of how to form itself into a nation or discipline its forces
under one head ; Louis XI. proved its political weakness, deter
mined its fall, and labored to place in its stead France and
monarchy. Herein are the great facts of his reign and the
proofs of his superior mind.

But side by side with these powerful symptoms of a new
regimen appeared also the vices of which that regimen con
tained the germ and those of the man himself who was labor
ing to found it. Feudal society, perceiving itself to be
threatened, at one time attacked Louis XI. with passion, at
another entered into violent disputes against him ; and Louis,
in order to struggle with it, employed all the practices at one
time crafty and at another violent that belong to absolute
power. Craft usually predominated in his proceedings, vio
lence being often too perilous for him to risk it ; he did not con
sider himself in a condition to say brazen-facedly, " Might be
fore right, " but he disregarded right in the case of his adver
saries, and he did not deny himself any artifice, any lie, any
baseness, however specious, in order to trick them or ruin
them secretly, when he did not feel himself in a position to
crush them at a blow. "The end justifies the means," that
was his maxim; and the end, in his case, was sometimes a
great and legitimate political object, nothing less than the dom
inant interest of France, but far more often his own personal
interest, something necessary to his own success or to his own
gratification. No loftiness, no greatness of soul was natural to
him ; and, the more experience of life he had, the more he be
came selfish and devoid of moral sense and of sympathy with
other men, whether rivals, tools, or subjects. All found out
before long, not only how little account he made of them, but
also what cruel pleasure he sometimes took in making them
conscious of his disdain and his power. He was "familiar,"
but not "by no means vulgar;" he was in conversation able
and agreeable, with a mixture, however, of petulance and in
discretion, even when he was meditating some perfidy ; and
" there is much need," he used to say, " that my tongue should

376 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxv.

sometimes serve me; it has hurt me often enough." The most
puerile superstitions as well as those most akin to a blind piety
found their way into his mind. When he received any bad
news, he would cast aside for ever the dress he was wearing
when the news came ; and of death he had a dread which was
carried to the extent of pusillanimity and ridiculousness.
''Whilst he was every day ," says M. de Barante, "becoming
more suspicious, more absolute, more terrible to his children,
to the princes of the blood, to his old servants, and to his wisest
counsellors, there was one man who, without any fear of his
wrath, treated him with brutal rudeness. This was James
Coettier, his doctor. When the king would sometimes com
plain of it before certain confidential servants : ' I know very
well, ' Coettier would say, ' that some fine morning you'll send
me where you've sent so many others ; but, 'sdeath, you'll not
live a week after !' " Then the king would coax him, overwhelm
him with caresses, raise his salary to ten thousand crowns a
month, make him a present of rich lordships ; and he ended by
making him premier president of the Court of Exchequer. All
churches and all sanctuaries of any small celebrity were reci
pients of his oblations, and it was not the salvation of his soul
but life and health that he asked for in return. One day there
was being repeated on his account and in his presence an ori
son to St. Eutropius, who was implored to grant health to the
soul and health to the body: " The latter will be enough," said
the king; "it is not right to bother the saint for too many
things at once." He showed great devotion for images which
had received benediction, and often had one of them sewn upon
his hat. Hawkers used to come and bring them to him ; and
one day he gave a hundred and sixty livres to a pedlar who had
in his pack one that had received benediction at Aix-la-Chapelle.
Whatever may have been, in the middle ages, the taste and the
custom in respect of such practices, they were regarded with
less respect in the fifteenth than in the twelfth century, and
many people scoffed at the trust that Louis XI. placed in them
or doubted his sincerity.

Whether they were sincere or assumed, the superstitions of
Louis XI. did not prevent him from appreciating and promot
ing the progress of civilization, towards which the fifteenth
century saw the first real general impulse. He favored the
free development of industry and trade ; he protected printing,
in its infancy, and scientific studies, especially the study of
medicine ; by his authorization, it is said, the operation for the

CH. xxv.] LOUIS XL (1461-1483). 377

stone was tried, for the first time in France, upon a criminal
under [sentence of death, who recovered and was pardoned;
and he welcomed the philological scholars who were at this
time laboring to diffuse through Western Europe the works of
Greek and Roman antiquity. He instituted, at first for his
own and before long for the public service, post-horses and the
letter-post within his kingdom. Towards intellectual and so
cial movement he had not the mistrust and antipathy of an
old, one-grooved, worn-out, unproductive despotism ; his kingly
despotism was new, and, one might almost say, innovational,
for it sprang and was growing up from the ruins of feudal
rights and liberties which had inevitably ended in monarchy.
But despotism's good services are shortlived ; it has no need to
last long before it generates iniquity and tyranny ; and that of
Louis XL, in the latter part of his reign, bore its natural, un
avoidable fruits. "His mistrust," says M. de Barante, "be
came horrible and almost insane ; every year he had surrounded
his castle of Plessis with more walls, ditches and rails. On the
towers were iron sheds, a shelter from arrows and even artil
lery. More than eighteen hundred of those planks bristling
with nails, called caltrops, were distributed over the yonder
side of the ditch. There were every day four hundred cross
bow-men on duty, with orders to fire on whosoever approached.
Every suspected passer-by was seized, and carried off to Tris
tan 1'Hermite, the provost-marshal. No great proofs were re
quired for a swing on the gibbet or for the inside of a sack and
a plunge in the Loire. . . . Men who, like sire De Commynes,
had been the king's servants and who had lived in his confi
dence had no doubt but that he had committed cruelties and
perpetrated the blackest treachery; still they asked themselves
whether there had not been a necessity, and whether he had
not, in the first instance, been the object of criminal machina
tions against which he had to defend himself. . . But through
out the kingdom the multitude of his subjects who had not re
ceived kindnesses from him, nor lived in familiarity with him,
nor known of the ability displayed in his plans, nor enjoyed the
wit of his conversation, judged only by that which came out
before their eyes ; the imposts had been made much heavier,
without any consent on the part of the states-general ; the tal-
liages, which under Charles VII. brought in only 1,800,000
livres, rose under Louis XL to 3,700,000; the kingdom wa«
ruined, and the people were at the last extremity of misery;
the prisons were full ; none was secure of life or property ; the

S78 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xzr.

greatest in the land and even the princes of the blood were not
safe in their own houses, "

An unexpected event occurred at this time to give a little
more heart to Louis XI. , who was now very ill, and to mingle
with his gloomy broodings a gleam of future prospects. Mary
of Burgundy, daughter of Charles the Rash, died at Bruges on
the 27th of March, 1482, leaving to her husband, Maximilian of
Austria, a daughter, hardly three years of age, Princess Mar
guerite by name, heiress to the Burgundian-Flemish dominions
which had not come into the possession of the king of France,
Louis, as soon as he heard the news, conceived the idea and the
hope of making up for the reverse he had experienced five
years previously through the marriage of Mary of Burgundy.
He would arrange espousals between his son the dauphin,
Charles, thirteen years old, and the infant princess left by
Mary, and thus recover for the crown of France the beautiful
domains he had allowed to slip from him. A negotiation was
opened at once on the subject between Louis, Maximilian, and
the estates of Flanders, and, on the 23rd of December, 1482, it
resulted in a treaty, concluded at Arras, 'which arranged for
the marriage and regulated the mutual conditions. In Janu
ary, 1483, the ambassadors from the estates of Flanders and
from Maximilian, who then for the first time assumed the title
of archduke, came to France for the ratification of the treaty.
Having been first received with great marks of satisfaction at
Paris, they repaired to Plessis-les-Tours. Great was their sur
prise at seeing this melancholy abode, this sort of prison into
which ' ' there was no admittance save after so many formali
ties and precautions. When they had waited awhile, they
were introduced, hi the evening, into a room badly lighted. In
a dark corner was the king, seated in an arm chair. They
moved towards him ; and then, in a weak and trembling voice
but still, as it seemed, in a bantering tone, Louis asked pardon
of the abbot of St. Peter of Ghent and of the other ambassadors
for not being able to rise and greet them. After having heard
what they had to say and having held a short conversation
with them, he sent for the Gospels for to make oath. He ex
cused himfelf for being obliged to take the holy volume in his
left hand, for his right was paralyzed and his arm supported in
a sling. Then, holding the volume of the Gospels, he raised it
up painfully and placing upon it the elbow of his right arm he
made oath. Thus appeared in the eyes of the Flemings that
king who had done them so much harm, and who was obtain-

CH. XXY.] LOUIS XL (1461-1483.) 379

ing of them so good a treaty by the fear with which he inspired
them, all dying as he was."

On the 2nd of June following, the infant princess, Marguerite
of Austria, was brought by a solemn embassy to Paris first,
and then, on the 23rd of June, to Amboise, where her betrothal
to the dauphin, Charles, was celebrated. Louis XI. did not
feel fit for removal to Amboise ; and he would not even receive
at Plessis-les-Tours the new Flemish embassy. Assuredly
neither the king nor any of the actors in this regal scene fore*
saw that this marriage, which they with reason looked upon
as a triumph of French policy, would never be consummated;
that, at the request of the court of France, the pope would
annul the betrothal ; and that, nine years after its celebration,
in 1492, the Austrian princess, after having been brought up at
Amboise under the guardianship of the duchess of Bourbon,
Anne, eldest daughter of Louis XI., would be sent back to her
father, Emperor Maximilian, by her affianced, Charles VIII.,
then king of France, who preferred to become the husband of
a French princess with a French province for dowry, Anne,
duchess of Brittany.

It was in March, 1481, that Louis XI. had his first attack of
that apoplexy which, after several repeated strokes, reduced
him to such a state of weakness that in June, 1483, he felt him
self and declared himself not in a fit state to be present at his
son's betrothal. Two months afterwards, on the 25th of Aug'
ust, St. Louis' day, he had a fresh stroke, and lost all conscious
ness and speech. He soon recovered them; but remained sa
weak that he could not raise his hand to his mouth and under
the conviction that he was a dead man. He sent for his son-
in-law, Peter of Bourbon, sire de Beaujeu; and " Go," said he,
" to Amboise, to the king, my son; I have entrusted him as
well as the government of the kingdom to your charge and my
daughter's care. You know all I have enjoined upon him;
watch and see that it be observed. Let him show favor and
confidence towards those who have done me good service and
whom I have named to him. You know, too, of whom he
should beware and who must not be suffered to come near
him. '' He sent for the chancellor from Paris, and bade him go
and take the seals to the king. "Go to the king," he said to
the captains of his guards, to his archers, to his huntsmen, to
all his household. "His speech never failed him after it had
come back to him," says Commynes, " nor his senses; he was
constantly saying something of great sense; and never in all

380 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxr:

his illness, which lasted from Monday to Saturday evening, did
he complain as do all sorts of folk when they feel ill. ... Not
withstanding all those commands, he recovered heart," adds
Commynes, ' ' and had good hope of escaping. " In conversation
at odd times with some of his servants, and even with Com
mynes himself, he had begged them, whenever they saw that
he was very ill, not to mention that cruel word death ; he had
even made a covenant with them, that they should say no
more to him than, " Don't talk much," which would be suffi
cient warning. But his doctor, James Coettier, and his barber,
Oliver the Devil, whom he had ennobled and enriched under
the name of Oliver le Daim, did not treat him with so much
indulgence. "They notified his death to him in brief and
harsh terms," says Commynes; " * Sir, we must do our duty;
have no longer hope in your holy man of Calabria or in other
matters, for assuredly all is over with you ; think of your soul ;
there is no help for it.' 'I have hope in God that He will aid
me,' answered Louis coldly; ' perad venture I am not so ill as
you think.' " "He endured with manly virtue so cruel a sen
tence," says Commynes, "and everything even to death, more
than any man I ever saw die; he spoke as coolly as if he had
never been ill." He gave minute orders about his funeral,
sepulchre, and tomb. He would be laid at Notre-Dame de
Clery and not, like his ancestors, at St. Denis; his statue was
to be gilt bronze, kneeling, face to the altar, head uncovered,
and hands clasped within his hat, as was his ordinary custom0
Not having died on the battle-field and sword in hand, he
would be dressed in hunting-garb, with jack-boots, a hunting-
horn slung over his shoulder, his hound lying beside him, his
order of St. Michael round his neck and his sword at his side.
As to the likeness, he asked to be represented, not as he was
in his latter days, bald, bow-backed, and wasted, but as he was
in his youth and in the vigor of his age, face pretty full, nose
aquiline, hair long, and falling down behind to his shoulders.
After having taken all these pains about himself after his
death, he gave his chief remaining thoughts to France and his
son. "Orders must be sent," said he, "to M. d'Esquerdes
[Philip de Crevecceur, baron d'Esquerdes, a distinguished war
rior who, after the death of Charles the Rash, had, through the
agency of Commynes, gone over to the service of Louis XI.,
and was in command of his army] to attempt no doings as to
Calais. We had thought to drive out the English from this the
last corner they hold in the kingdom; but such matters are too

OH. xxv.] LOUIS XI. (1461—1483.) 381

weighty; ail that business ends with me. M. d'Esquerdes
must give up such designs, and come and guard my son with
out budging from his side for at least six months. Let an end
be put, also, to all our disputes with Brittany, and let this
Duke Francis be allowed fco live in peace without any more
causing him trouble or fear. This is the way in which we
must now deal with all our neighbors. Five or six good years
of peace are needful for the kingdom. My poor [people have
suffered too much ; they are in great desolation. If God had
been pleased to grant me life, I should have put it all to rights;
it was my thought and my desire. Let my son be strictly
charged to remain at peace, especially whilst he is so young.
At a later time, when he is older and when the kingdom is in
good case, he shall do as he pleases about it."

On Saturday, August 30th, 1483, between seven and eight tu
the evening, Louis XI. expired, saying, "Our Lady of Enibrun,
my good mistress, have pity upon me ; the mercies of the Lord
will I sing for ever (misericordias Domini in ceternum cantabo)."

" It was a great cause of joy throughout the kingdom," says
M. de Barante with truth in his Histoire des Dues de Bourgogne ;
''this moment had been impatiently waited for as a deliver
ance and as the ending of so many woes and fears. For a long
time past no king of France had been so heavy on his people or
so hated by them."

This was certainly just and at the same time ungrateful.
Louis XI. had rendered France great service, but in a manner
void of frankness, dignity, or lustre ; he had made the contem
porary generation pay dearly for it by reason of the spectacle
he presented of trickery, perfidy, and vindictive cruelty, and
by his arbitrary and tyrannical exercise of kingly power.
People are not content to have useful service ; they must ad
mire or love ; and Louis XL inspired France with neither ot
those sentiments. He has had the good fortune to be described
and appraised, in his own day too, by the most distinguished
and independent of his councillors, Philip de Commynes, and,
three centuries afterwards, by one of the most thoughtful and
the soundest intellects amongst the philosophers of the
eighteenth century, Duclos, who, moreover, had the advan
tage of being historiographer of France and of having studied
the history of that reign in authentic documents. We repro
duce here the two judgments, the agreement of which is re
markable : —

" God," says Commynes, " had created our king more

HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvt

liberal, and full of manly virtue than the princes who reigned
with him and in his day, and who were his enemies and neigh
bors.. In all there was good and evil, for they were men ; but,
without flattery, in him were more things appertaining to the
office of king than in any of the rest. I saw them nearly all,
and knew what they could do."

4 * Louis XL," says Duclos, "was far from being without re
proach; few princes have deserved so much; but it may be
said that he was equally celebrated for his vices and his virtues,
and that, everything being put in the balance, he was a king."

We will be more exacting than Commynes and Duclos ; we
will not consent* to apply to Louis XL the words liberal, virtw-
QMS, and virtue ; he had nor greatness of soul, nor uprightness
of character, nor kindness of heart; he was neither a great
king nor a good king'; but we may assent to Duclos' last words
•—he was a king.

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE WARS OF ITALY.— CHARLES Vni. 1483—1498.

Louis XL had by the queen his wife, Charlotte of Savoy,
six children; three of them survived him: Charles VIII. , his
successor; Anne, his eldest daughter, who had espoused Peter
of Bourbon, sire de Beaujeu; and Joan, whom he had married
to the duke of Orleans, who became Louis XII. At their
father's death, Charles was thirteen; Anne twenty-two or
twenty-three; and Joan nineteen. According to Charles V.'s
decree, which had fixed fourteen as the age for the king's ma
jority, Charles VIII. , on his accession, was very nearly a major;
but Louis XL, with good reason, considered him very far from
capable of reigning as yet. On the other hand, he had a very
high opinion of his daughter Anne, and it was to her far more
than to sire de Beaujeu, her husband, that six days before his
death and by his last instructions he entrusted the guardian
ship of his son, to whom he already gave the title of king, and
the government of the realm. They were oral instructions not
set forth in or confirmed by any regular testament; but the
words of Louis XL had great weight, even after his death.
Opposition to his last wishes was not wanting. Louis, duke
of Orleans, was a natural claimant to the regency; but Anne

CH. xxvLj CHARLES VIII. (1483—1498). 383

de Beaujeu, immediately and without consulting anybody,
took up the position which had been entrusted to her by her
father, and the fact was accepted without ceasing to be ques
tioned. Louis XI. had not been mistaken in his choice; there
was none more fitted than his daughter Anne to continue his
policy under the reign and in the name of his successor; "a
shrewd and clever woman if ever there was one," says Bran«
tome, "and the true image in everything of King Louis her
father."

She began by acts of intelligent discretion. She tried, not
to subdue by force the rivals and malcontents, but to put them
in the wrong in the eyes of the public and to cause embarrass
ment to themselves by treating them with fearless favor. Her
brother-in-law, the duke of Bourbon, was vexed at being only
in appearance and name the head of his own house ; and she
made him constable of France and lieutenant-general of the
kingdom. The friends of Duke Louis of Orleans, amongst
others his chief confidant George of Ambroise, bishop of
Montouban, and Count Dunois, son of Charles VII. 's hero,
persistently supported the duke's rights to the regency; and
Madame (the title Anne de Beaujeu had assumed) made Duke
Louis governor of He-de-Frante and of Champagne and sent
Dunois as governor to Dauphiny. She kept those of Louis
XI. 's advisers for whom the public had not conceived a perfect
hatred like that felt for their master; and Commynes alone
was set aside, as having received from the late king too many
personal favors and as having too much inclination towards
independent criticism of the new regency. Two of Louis XL's
subordinate and detested servants, Oliver le Daim and John
Doyac, were prosecuted, and one was hanged and the other
banished; and his doctor, James Coettier, was condemned to
disgorge fifty thousand crowns out of the enormous presents
he had received from his patient. At the same time that she
thus gave some satisfaction to the cravings of popular wrath,
Anne de Beaujeu threw open the prisons, recalled exiles, for
gave the people a quarter of the talliage, cut down expenses
by dismissing six thousand Swiss whom the late king had
taken into his pay, re-established some sort of order in the ad
ministration of the domains of the crown, and, in fine, whether
in general measures or in respect of persons, displayed impai*
partiality without paying court and firmness without using
severity. Here was, in fact, a young and gracious woman,
who gloried solely in signing herself simply Anne of Franc*

12 VOL. 2

384 BISTORT OF FRANCS. [ex. XXTI

whilst respectfully following out the policy of her father, t
veteran king, able, mistrustful, and pitiless.

Anne's discretion was soon put to a great trial. A general
cry was raised for the convocation of the states-general. The
ambitious hoped thus to open a road to power; the public
looked forward to it for a return to legalized government. No
doubt Anne would have preferred to remain more free and
less responsible in the exercise of her authority; for it was
still very far from the time when national assemblies could be
considered as a permanent power and a regular means of
government. But Anne and her advisers did not waver; they
were too wise and too weak to oppose a great public wish. The
states-general were convoked at Tours for the 5th of January,
1484. On the 15th they met in the great hall of the arch
bishop's palace. Around the king's throne sat two hundred
and fifty deputies, whom the successive arrivals of absentees
raised to two hundred and eighty-four. " France in all its en
tirety," says M. Picot, "found itself, for the first time, repre
sented ; Flanders alone sent no deputies until the end of the
session; but Provence, Roussillon, Burgundy, and Dauphiny
were eager to join their commissioners to the delegates from
the provinces united from the oldest times to the crown."
[Histoire des Etats Generaux from 1355 to 1614, by George
Picot, t. i. p. 360.]

We have the journal of these states-general drawn up with
precision and detail by one of the chief actors, John Masselin,
canon of and deputy for Rouen, "an eminent speaker," says a
contemporary Norman chronicle, " who delivered on behalf of
the common weal in the presence of kings and princes speeches
full of elegance." We may agree that, compared with the
pompous pedantry of most speakers of his day, the oratorical
style of John Masselin is not without a certain elegance, but
that is not his great and his original distinction ; what marks
him out and gives him so high a place in the history of the
fifteenth century, is the judicious and firm political spirit dis
played in his conduct as deputy and in his narrative as his
torian. [The Journal, written by the author in Latin, was
translated into French and published, original and translation,
by M. A. Bernier, in 1835, in the Collection des Documents
inedits relatifs a V Histoire de France.] And it is not John
Masselin only, but the very assembly itself in which he sat,
that appears to us, at the end of five centuries, seriously
moved by a desire for free government and not far from com-

CH. xxvi.] CHARLES VIII. (1483—1498). 885

prehending and following out the essential conditions of it,
France had no lack of states-general, full of brilliancy and
power, between 1356 and 1789, from the reign of Charles V. to
that of Louis XVI. ; but in the majority of these assemblies,
for all the ambitious soarings of liberty, it was at one timo
religious party-spirit and at another the spirit of revolution
that ruled and determined both acts and events. Nothing of
that kind appeared in the states-general assembled at Tours in
1484; the assembly was profoundly monarchical, not only on
general principles but in respect of the reigning house and the
young king seated on the throne. There was no fierce struggle,
either between the aristocracy and the democracy of the day,
between the ecclesiastical body and the secular body ; although
widely differing and widely separated, the clergy, the nobility;
and the third estate were not at war, even in their hearts, be
tween themselves. One and the same idea, one and the sam€*
desire animated the three orders; to such a degree* that, as has
been well pointed out by M. Picot, " in the majority of the
fcowns they proceeded in common to the choice of deputies;
the clergy, nobles, and commons who arrived at Tours ware
not the representatives exclusively of the clergy, the nobles,
or the third estate: they combined in their persons a triple
commission ;" and when, after having examined together their
different memorials, by the agency of a committee of thirty-
six members taken in equal numbers from the three orders,
they came to a conclusion to bring their grievances and their
wishes before the government of Charles VIII., "they decided
that a single spokesman should be commissioned to sum up, in
a speech delivered in solemn session, the report of the com
mittee of Thirty-six;" and it was the canon, Master John
Masselin, who received the commission to speak in the name
of all. They all had at heart one and the same idea; they de
sired to turn the old and undisputed monarchy into a legalized
and free government. Clergy, nobles, and third estate, there
was not in any of their minds any revolutionary yearning or
any thought of social war. It is the peculiar and the beautiful
characteristic of the states-general of 1484 that they had an eye
to nothing but a great political reform, a regimen of legality
and freedom.

Two men, one a Norman and the other a Burgundian, the
canon John Masselin and Philip Pot, lord of la Roche, a former
counsellor of Philip the Good, duke of Burgundy, were the ex°
ponents of this political spirit, at once bold and prudent, conr

386 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvi.

servative and reformative. The nation's sovereignty and the
right of the estates not only to vote imposts but to exercise a
real influence over the choice and conduct of the officers of the
crown, this was what they affirmed in principle and what in
fact they labored to get established. ' ' I should like, " said
Philip de la Roche, ' l to see you quite convinced that the gov
ernment of the State is the people's affair ; and by the people
I mean not only the multitude of those who are simply sub
jects of this crown, but indeed all persons of each estate, in
cluding the princes also. Since you consider yourselves depu
ties from all the estates of the kingdom, why are you afraid to
conclude that you have been especially summoned to direct by
your counsels the commonwealth during its quas-interregnum
caused by the king's minority? Far be it from me to say that
the reigning, properly so called, the dominion, in fast, passes
into any hands but those of the king ; it is only the administra
tion, the guardianship of the kingdom which is conferred for a
time upon the people of their elect. Why tremble at the idea
of taking in hand the regulation, arrangement, and nomination
of the council of the crown? You are here to say and to ad
vise freely that which, by inspiration of God and your con
science, you believe to be useful for the realm. What is the
obstacle that prevents you from accomplishing so excellent and
meritorious a work? I can find none, unless it be your own
Weakness and the pusillanimity which causes tear in your
minds. Come, then, most illustrious lords, have great con
fidence in yourselves, have great hopes, have great manly
virtue, and let not this liberty of the estates, that your an
cestors were so zealous in defending, be imperilled by reason
of your soft-heartedness." "This speech," says Masselin,
4 ' was listened to by the whole assembly very attentively and
very favorably." Masselin, being called upon to give the
king " in his privy chamber, before the dukes of Orleans and
Lorraine and a numerous company of nobles, " an exact account
of the estates' first deliberations, held in his turn language
more reserved than but similar to that of Lord Philip de la
Roche, whose views he shared and whose proud openness he
admired. The question touching the composition of the king's
council and the part to be taken in it by the estates was for
five weeks the absorbing idea with the government and with
the assembly. There were made, on both sides, concessions
which satisfied neither the estates nor the court, for their ob
ject was always, on the part of the estates to exerci^a real in-

CH. xxvi.] CHARLES VIII. (1483-1498). 387

fluence on the government, and on the part of the court to
escape being under any real influence of the estates. Side
by side with the question of the king's council was ranged
that of the imposts ; and here it was no easier to effect an
understanding : the crown asked more than the estates thought
they ought or were able to vote ; and, after a long and obscure
controversy about expenses and receipts, Masselin was again
commissioned to set before the king's council the views of the
assembly and its ultimate resolution. "When we saw," said
he, "that the aforesaid accounts or estimates contained ele
ments of extreme difficulty, and that to balance and verify
them would subject us to interminable discussions and longer
labor than would be to our and the people's advantage, we
hastened to adopt by way of expedient but nevertheless reso
lutely the decision I am about to declare to you. . . . Wishing
to meet liberally the king's and your desires, we offer to pay
the sum that King Charles VII, used to take for the impost of
talliages, provided, however, that this sum be equally and pro
portionately distributed between the provinces of the king
dom, and that in the shape of an aid. And this contribution
be only for two years, after which the estates shall be assem
bled as they are to-day to discuss the public needs ; and if at
that time or previously they see the advantage thereof the
said sum shall be diminished or augmented. Further, the said
my lords the deputies do demand that their next meeting be
now appointed and declared, and that an irrevocable decision
do fix and decree that assembly."

This was providing at one and the same time for the wants
of the present and the rights of the future. The impost of
talliage was, indeed, voted just as it had stood under Charles
VII. , but it became a temporary aid granted for two years
only ; at the end of them the estates were to be convoked and
the tax augmented or diminished according to the public
wants. The great question appeared decided ; by means of the
vote, necessary and at the same time temporary, in the case
of the impost, the states-general entered into real possession of
a decisive influence in the government ; but the behavior and
language of the officers of the crown and of the great lords of
the court rendered the situation as difficult as ever. In a long
and confused harangue the chancellor, William.de Rochefort,
did not confine himself to declaring the sum voted, 1,200,000
livres, to be insufficient and demanding 300,000 livres more;
he passed over in complete silence the limitation to two years

388 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH. XXTI

of the tax voted and the requirement that at the end of that
time the states-general should be convoked. " Whilst the
chancellor was thus speaking, " say s Masselin, "manydepu
ties of a more independent spirit kept groaning and all the
hall resounded with a slight murmuring because it seemed that
he was not expressing himself well as to the power and liberty
of the people." The deputies asked leave to deliberate in the
afternoon, promising a speedy answer. "As you wish to
deliberate, do so, but briefly," said the chancellor; "it would
be better for you to hold counsel now so as to answer in the
afternoon. " The deputies took their time ; and the discussion
was a long and a hot one. " We see quite well how it is," said
the princes and the majority of the great lords ; * ' to curtail
the king's power, and pare down his nails to the quick is the
object of your efforts ; you forbid the subjects to pay their prince
as much as the wants of the State require : are they masters,
pray, and no longer subjects? You would set up the laws of
some fanciful monarchy and abolish the old ones." " I know
the rascals, " said one of the great lords [according to one his
torian, it was the duke of Bourbon, Anne de Beaujeu's brother-
in-law] ; "if they are not kept down by over- weigh ting them,
they will soon become insolent ; for my part, I consider this
tax the surest curb for holding them in." " Strange words, "
says Masselin, "unworthy of utterance from the mouth of a
man so eminent ; but in his soul, as in that of all old men,
covetousness had increased with age, and he appeared to
fear a diminution of his pension."

After having deliberated upon it, the states-general persisted
in their vote of a tax of 1,200,000 livres, at which figure it had
stood under King Charles VII. , but for two years only and as>
gift or grant, not as a permanent talliage any more, and on
condition that at the end of that time the states should be
necessarily convoked. At the same time, however, " and over
and above this, the said estates, who do desire the well-being,
honor, prosperity, and augmentation of the lord king and of
his kingdom, and in order to obey him and please him in all
ways possible, do grant him the sum of 300,000 livres of Tours,
for this once only and without being a precedent, on account
of his late joyful accession to the throne of France, and for to
aid and support the outlay which it is suitable to make for his
holy consecration, coronation, and entry into Paris. "

On this fresh vote, full of fidelity to the monarchy and at
the same time of patriotic independence, negotiations began

CH. xxvr.] CHARLES VIII. (1483—1498). 389

between the estates and the court; and they lasted from the
28th of February to the 12th of March, but without result. At
bottom, the question lay between absolute power and free gov
ernment, between arbitrariness and legality ; and, on this field,
both parties were determined not to accept a serious and final
defeat. Unmoved by the royal concessions and assurances
they received, the advisers of the crown thought no longer of
anything but getting speedily rid of the presence of the estates
so as to be free from the trouble of maintaining the discussion
with them. The deputies saw through the device; their
speeches were stifled, and the necessity of replying was eluded.
"My lord chancellor," said they, at an interview on the 2nd of
March, 1484, "if we are not to have a hearing, why are we
here? Why have you summoned us? Let us withdraw. If
you behave thus, you do not require our presence. We did
not at all expect to see the fruits of our vigils, and the deci
sions adopted after so much trouble by so illustrious an as
sembly rejected so carelessly." The complaints were not
always so temperate. A theologian, whom Masselin quotes
without giving his name, "a bold and fiery partisan of the
people," says he, added these most insulting words: " As soon
as our consent had been obtained for raising the money, there
is no doubt but that we have been cajoled, that every thing
has been treated with contempt, the demands set down in our
memorials, our final resolutions, and the limits we fixed.
Speak we of the money. On this point, our decisions have
been conformed to only so far as to tell us, * This impost shall
no longer be called talliage -, it shall be a free grant.' Is it in
words, pray, and not in things that our labor and the well-
being of the State consist? Verily, we would rather still call
this impost talliage and even blackmail (maltote) or give it a
still viler name, if there be any, than see it increasing immeas
urably and crushing the people. The curse of God and the
execration of men upon those whose deeds and plots have
caused such woes ! They are the most dangerous foes of the
people and of the commonwealth." "The theologian burned
with a desire to continue," adds Masselin, " but though he had
not wandered far from the truth, many deputies chid him and

constrained him to be silent Already lethargy had

fallen upon the most notable amongst us ; glutted with favors
and promises that no longer possessed that ardor of will which
had animated them at first ; when we were prosecuting our
business, they remained motionless at home ; when we spoke

390 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvi.

before them, they held their peace or added hut a few feeble
words. We were wasting our time."

On the 12th of March, 1484, the deputies from Normandy,
twenty-five in number, happened to hold a meeting at Montils-
les-Tours. The bishop of Coutances told them that there was
no occasion for the estates to hold any more meetings ; that it
would be enough if each of the six sections appointed three
or four delegates to follow the course of affairs; and that,
moreover, the compensation granted to all the deputies of the
estates would cease on the 14th of March, and after that would
be granted only to their delegates. This compensation had
already, amongst the estates, been the subject of a long dis
cussion. The clergy and the nobility had attempted to throw
the whole burden of it upon the third estate ; the third estate
had very properly claimed that each of the three orders should
share proportionately in their expense, and the chancellor had
with some difficulty got it decided that the matter should
stand so. On the 14th of March, accordingly, the six sections
of the estates met and elected three or four deputies apiece.
The deputies were a little surprised, on entering their sessions-
hall, to find it completely dismantled: carpets, hangings,
benches, table, all had been removed, so certainly did the
government consider the session over. Some members in dis
gust thought and maintained that the estates ought not to
separate without carrying away with them the resolutions set
down in their general memorial, formally approved and ac
companied by an order to the judges to have them executed.
"But a much larger number," says Masselin, " were afraid of
remaining too k>ng, and many of our colleagues, in spite of
the zeal which they had once shown, had a burning desire to
depart, according to the princes' good pleasure and orders.
As for us, we enjoined upon the three deputies of our Norman
nationality not to devote themselves solely to certain special
affairs which had not yet been terminated, but to use re
doubled care and diligence in all that concerned the general
memorial and the aggregate of the estates. And having thus
left our commissioners at Tours and put matters to rights, we
went away well-content; and we pray God that our labors
and all that has been done may be useful for the people's
welfare."

Neither Masselin nor his descendants for more than three
centuries were destined to see the labors of the states-general
of 1484 obtain substantial and durable results. The work they

CH. xxvi.] CHARLES VHL (1483—1498). 391

had conceived and attempted was premature. The establish
ment of a free government demands either spontaneous and
simple virtue such as may be found in a young and small com
munity, or the lights, the scientific method, and the wisdom,
painfully acquired and still so imperfect, of great and civilized
nations. France of the fifteenth century was in neither of
these conditions. But it is a crown of glory to have felt that
honest and patriotic ambition which animated Masselin and
his friends at their exodus from the corrupt and corrupting
despotism of Louis XI. Who would dare to say that their
attempt, vain as it was for them, was so also for generations
separated from them by centuries? Time and space are as
nothing in the mysterious development of God's designs
towards men, and it is the privilege of mankind to get in
struction and example from far-off memories of their own
history. It was a duty to render to the states-general of 1484
the homage to which they have a right by reason of their
intentions and their efforts on behalf of the good cause and in
spite of their unsuccess.

When the states-general had separated, Anne de Beaujeu,
without difficulty or uproar, resumed, as she had assumed on
her father's death, the government of France ; and she kept it
yet for seven years, from 1484 to 1491. During all this tune
she had a rival and foe in Louis, duke of Orleans, who was
one day to be Louis XII. " I have heard tell," says Brantome,
"how that, at the first, she showed affection towards him,
nay, even love; in such sort that, if M. d'Orleans had been
minded to give heed thereto, he might have done well, as I
know from a good source ; but he could not bring himself to
it; especially as he found her too ambitious, and he would
that she should be dependent on him, as premier prince and
nearest to the throne, and not he on her ; whereas she desired
the contrary, for she was minded to have the high place and

rule every thing They used to have," adds Brantome,

" prickings of jealousy, love, and ambition." If Brantome's
anecdote is true, as one is inclined to believe, though several
historians have cast doubts upon it, Anne de Beaujeu had, in
their prickings of jealousy, love, and ambition, a great advan
tage over Louis of Orleans. They were both young, and
exactly of the same age; but Louis had all the defects of
youth, whilst Anne had all the qualities of mature age. He
was handsome, volatile, inconsiderate, imprudent, brave, and
of a generous, open nature, combined with kindliness; she

392 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH, XXYL

was thoughtful, judicious, persistent, and probably a little
cold and hard, such, in fact, as she must needs have become in
the school of her father, Louis XI. As soon as the struggle
between them began, the diversity of their characters ap
peared and bore fruit. The duke of Orleans plunged into all
sorts of intrigues and ventures against the fair regent, excit
ing civil war and, when he was too much compromised or too
hard pressed, withdrawing to the court of Francis II., duke of
Brittany, an unruly vassal of the king of France. Louis of
Orleans even made alliance, at need, with foreign princes,
Henry VII., king of England, Ferdinand the Catholic, king of
Arragon, and Maximilian, arch-duke of Austria, without much
regard for the interests of his own kingly house and his own
country. Anne, on the contrary, in possession of official and
legal authority, wielded it and guarded it with prudence and
moderation in the interests of France and of the crown, never
taking the initiative in war but having the wit to foresee,
maintain and, after victory, end it. She encountered from
time to time at her own court and in her own immediate
circle, a serious difficulty: the young king, Charles, was
charmed by the duke of Orleans' brilliant qualities, especially
by the skill and bravery that Louis displayed at tournaments.
One day, interrupting the Bishop of Montauban, George of
Amboise, wno was reading the breviary to him, "Send word
to the duke of Orleans," said the king, "to go on with his en
terprise and that I would fain be with him. " Another day he
said to Count Dunois, "Do take me away, uncle: I'm longing
to be out of this company." Dunois and George of Amboise,
both of them partisans of the Duke of Orleans, carefully en
couraged the king in sentiments so favorable to the fair
regent's rival. Incidents of another sort occurred to still
further embarrass the position for Anne de Beaujeu. The
eldest daughter of Francis II., duke of Brittany, herself also
named Anne, would inherit his duchy, and on this ground she
was ardently wooed by many competitors. She was born in
1477; and at four years of age in 1481, she had been promised
in marriage to Edward, prince of Wales, son of Edward
IV., king of England. But two years afterwards, in 1483, this
young; prince was murdered or, according to other accounts,
imprisoned by his uncle Richard III., who seized the crown;
and the Breton promise vanished with him. The number of
claimants to the hand of Anne of Brittany increased rapidly;
and the policy of the duke her father, consisted, it was said, in

OH, xxvi, J CHARLES VIII. (1483—1498),

making for himself five or six sons-in-law by means of one
daughter, Toward.the end of 1484, the duke of Orleans, having
embroiled himself with Anne de Beaujeu, sought refuge in
Brittany; and many historians have said that he not only at
that time aspired to the hand of Anne of Brittany but that he
paid her assiduous court and obtained from her marks of tender
interest. Count Daru, in his Histoire de Bretagne (t. iii. p.
82) , has put the falsehood of this assertion beyond a doubt ; the
Breton princess was then only seven and the duke of Orleans
had been eight years married to Joan of France, younger
daughter of Louis XI. But in succeeding years and amidst
the continual alternations of war and negotiation between the
king of France and the duke of Brittany, Anne de Beaujeu and
the duke of Orleans, competition and strife between the various
claimants to the hand of Anne of Brittany became very active;
Alan, Sire d'Albret, called the Great because of his reputation
for being the richest lord of the realm, Viscount James de
Rohan and Archduke Maximilian of Austria, all three believed
themselves to have hopes of success and prosecuted them as
siduously. Sire d'Albret, a widower and the father of eight
children already, was forty-five, with a pimply face, a hard
eye, a hoarse voice, and a quarrelsome and gloomy temper;
and Anne, being pressed to answer his suit, finally declared
that she would turn nun rather than marry him. James de
Rohan, in spite of his powerful backers at the court of Rennes,
was likewise dismissed; his father, Viscount John II., was in
the service of the king of France. Archduke Maximilian re
mained the only claimant with any pretensions. He was nine-
and twenty, of gigantic stature, justly renowned for valor and
ability in war, and of more literary culture than any of the
princes his contemporaries, a trait he had in common with
Princess Anne, whose education had been very carefully at
tended to. She showed herself to be favorably disposed
towards him ; and the duke of Orleans whose name, married
though he was, was still sometimes associated with that of the
Breton princess, formally declared, on the 26th of January, 1486,
that, "when he came to the duke of Brittany's, it was solely to
visit him and advise him on certain points touching the defence
of his duchy, and not to talk to him of marriage with the prin
cesses his daughters." But, whilst the negotiation was thus
inclining towards the Austrian prince, Anne de Beaujeu, ever
far-sighted and energetic, was vigorously pushing on the war
against the duke of Brittany and his allies. She had found in

394 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH, XXVL

Louis de la Tr4moille an able and a bold warrior, whom Guicciar-
dini calls the greatest captain in the world. In July, 1488, he
came suddenly down upon Brittany, took one after the other
Chateaubriant, Ancenis, and Fougeres, and, on the 28th,
gained at St. Aubin-du-Cormier, near Rennes, over the army
of the duke of Brittany and his English, German, and Gascon
allies, a victory which decided the campaign; six thousand of
the Breton army were killed, and Duke Louis of Orleans, the
prince of Orange and several French lords, his friends were
made prisoners. On receiving at Angers the news of this vic
tory, Charles VIII. gave orders that the two captive princes
should be brought to him ; but Anne de Beaujeu, fearing some
ebullition on his part of a too prompt and too gratuitous gene
rosity, caused delay in their arrival ; and the duke of Orleans,
who was taken first to the castle of Sable and then to Lusignan,
went ultimately to the Tower of Bourges, where he was to
await the king's decision.

It was a great success for Anne de Beaujeu. She had beaten
her united foes ; and the most formidable of them all, the duke
of Orleans, was her prisoner. Two incidents that supervened,
one a little before and the other a little after the battle of St.
Aubin-du-Cormier, occurred to both embarrass the position and
at the same time call forth all the energy of Anne. Her
brother-in-law, Duke John of Bourbon, the head of his house,
died on the 1st of April, 1488, leaving to his younger brother,
Peter, his title and domains. Having thus become duchess of
Bourbon, and being well content with this elevation in rank
and fortune, Madame the Great (as Anne de Beaujeu was
popularly called) was somewhat less eagerly occupied with the
business of the realm, was less constant at the king's council,
and went occasionally with her husband to stay awhile in their
own territories. Charles VIII., moreover, having nearly ar
rived at man's estate, made more frequent manifestations of
his own personal will; and Anne, clear-sighted and discreet
though ambitious, was little by little changing her dominion
into influence. But some weeks after the battle of St. Aubin-
du-Cormier, on the 7th or 9th of September, 1488, the death of
Francis II. , duke of Brittany, rendered the active intervention
of the duchess of Bourbon natural and necessary: for he left
his daughter, the Princess Anne, barely eighteen years old,
exposed to all the difficulties attendant upon the government
of her inheritance and to all the intrigues of the claimants to
her haad- In the summer 1489, Charles VIII. and his advisers

OH. xxvi.] CHARLES VIII. (1483-1498). 395

learned that the count of Nassau, having arrived in Brittany
with the proxy of Archduke Maximilian, had by a mock cere
mony espoused the Breton princess in his master's name. This
strange mode of celebration could not give the marriage a real
and indissoluble character, but the concern in the court of
France was profound. In Brittany there was no mystery any
longer made about the young duchess's engagement; she
already took the title of queen of the Romans. Charles VIII.
loudly protested against this pretended marriage ; and to give
still more weight to his protest he sent to Henry VII., king of
England, who was much mixed up with the affairs of Brittany,
ambassadors charged to explain to him the right which France
had to oppose the marriage of the young duchess with Arch
duke Maximilian, at the same time taking care not to give oc
casion for thinking that Charles had any views on his own ac
count in that quarter. "The king my master," said the am
bassador, " doth propose to assert by arms his plain rights over
the kingdom of Naples now occupied by some usurper or
other, a bastard of the House of Arragon. He doth consider,
moreover, the conquest of Naples only as a bridge thrown down
before him for to take him into Greece ; there he is resolved to
lavish his blood and his treasure, though he should have to
pawn his crown and drain his kingdom, for to overthrow the
tyranny of the Ottomans and open to himself in this way the
kingdom of Heaven." The king of England gave a somewhat
ironical reply to this chivalrous address, merely asking
whether the king of France would consent not to dispose of the
heiress of Brittany's hand save on the condition of not marry
ing himself. The ambassadors shuffled out of the question by
saying that their master was so far from any such idea that it
had not been foreseen in their instructions.

Whether it had or had not been foreseen and meditated upon,
so soon as the re-union of Brittany with France by the mar
riage of the young duchess, Anne, with King Charles VIII.
appeared on the horizon as a possible and, perad venture, prob
able fact, it became the common desire, aim, and labor of all
the French politicians who up to that time had been opposed,
persecuted and proscribed. Since the battle of St. Aubin-du-
Cormier, Duke Louis of Orleans had been a prisoner in the
Tower of Bourges, and so strictly guarded that he was confined
at night in an iron cage like Cardinal Balue's for fear he should
escape. In vain had his wife, Joan of France, an unhappy and
virtuous princess, ugly and deformed, who had never been

396 HISTORY OF FRANCS. [OH. xm.

able to gain her husband's affections, implored her all-powerful
sister, Anne of Bourbon, to set him at liberty: "As I am in
cessantly thinking," she wrote to her, " about my husband's
release, I have conceived the idea of setting down in writing
the fashion in which peace might be had and my said husband
be released. I am writing it out for the king, and you will see
it all. I pray you sister, to look to it that I may get a few
words in answer; it has been a very sad thing for me that I
never see you now." There is no trace of any answer from
Anne to her sister. Charles VIII. had a heart more easily
tonched. When Joan, in mourning, came and threw herself
at his feet, sayiDg, "Brother, my husband is dragging on his
life in prison ; and I am in such trouble that I know not what
I ought to say in his defence. If he has had aught wherewith
to reproach himself, I am the only one whom he has outraged.
Pardon him, brother ; you will never have so happy a chance
of being generous:" "You shall have him, sister," said
Charles, kissing her; "grant Heaven that you may not repent
one day of that which you are doing for him to-day !" Some
days after this interview, in May 1491, Charles, without saying
anything about it to the duchess, Anne of Bourbon, set off one
evening from Plessis du Pare on pretence of going a-hunting,
and on reaching Berry sent for the duke of Orleans from the
Tower of Bourges. Louis, in raptures at breathing the air of
freedom, at the farthest glimpse he caught of the king leapt
down from his horse and knelt, weeping, on the ground.
"Charles," says the chronicler, "sprang upon his neck,
and knew not what cheer (reception) to give him to make it
understood that he was acting of his own motion and free
will." Charles ill understood his sister Anne and could
scarcely make her out. But two convictions had found their
way into that straightforward and steady mind of hers ; one,
that a favorable time had arrived for uniting Brittany with
France and must be seized; the other, that the period of her
personal dominion was over, and that all she had to do was to
get herself well established in her new position. She wrote to
the king her brother to warn him against the accusations and
wicked rumors of which she might possibly be the object. He
replied to her on the 21st of June, 1491 : " My good sister, my
dear, Louis de Pesclins has informed me that you have knowl
edge that certain matters have been reported to me against
you ; whereupon I answered him that naught of the kind had
been reported to me ; and I assure you that none would dare

CH. xxvi.] CHARLES VIII. (1483—1498). 397

so to speak to me ; for, in whatsoever fashion it might, I would
not put faith therein, as I hope to tell you when we are to
gether — bidding you adieu, my good sister, my dear." After
having reassured his sister, Charles set about reconciling her
as well as her husband, the duke of Bourbon, with her brother-
in-law, the duke of Orleans. Louis, who was of a frank and
by no means rancorous disposition, as he himself said and
proved at a later period, submitted with a good grace ; and on
the 4th of September, 1491, at La Fleche, the princes jointly
made oath, by their baptism and with their hands on the book
of the Gospels, "to hold one another once more in perpetual
affection, and to forget all old rancor, hatred, and ill-will, for
to well and loyally serve King Charles, guard his person and
authority, and help him to comfort the people and set in order
his household and kingdom." Counsellors and servants were
included in this reconciliation of the masters ; and Philip de
Commynes and the bishop of Montauban, ere long archbishop
of Rouen, governor of Normandy, and Cardinal d'Amboise,
went out of disgrace, took their places again in the king's
councils and set themselves loyally to the work of accom
plishing that union between Charles VIII. and Anne of Brit
tany, whereby France was to achieve the pacific conquest of
Brittany.

Pacific as it was, this conquest cost some pains and gave
some trouble. In person Charles VIII. was far from charm
ing ; he was short and badly built ; he had an enormous head ;
great, blank-looking eyes ; an aquiline nose, bigger and thicker
than was becoming; thick lips too, and everlastingly open;
nervous twitchings, disagreeable to see ; and slow speech. ' ' In
my judgment," adds the ambassador from Venice, Zachary
Contarini, who had come to Paris in May, 1492, " I should hold
that, body and mind, he is not worth much ; however they all
sing his praises in Paris as a right lusty gallant at playing of
tennis and at hunting and at jousting, exercises to the which,
in season and out of season, he doth devote a great deal of
time." The same ambassador says of Anne of Brittany, who
had then been for four months Queen of France: "The queen
is short also, thin, lame of one foot and perceptibly so, though
she does what she can for herself by means of boots with high
heels, a brunette and very pretty in the face, and, for her age,
very knowing ; in such sort that what she has once taken into
her head she will obtain somehow or other, whether it be
smiles or tears that be needed for it." [La Diplomatie

898 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. XXTX.

tienne au Seizieme Siecle, by M. Armand Baschet, p. 825
(Paris, 1862).] Knowing as she was, Anne was at the same
time proud and headstrong; she had a cultivated mind ; she
was fond of the arts, of poetry, and of ancient literature ; she
knew Latin, and even a little Greek ; and having been united,
though by proxy and at a distance, to a prince whom she had
never seen but whom she knew to be tall, well made, and a
friend to the sciences, she revolted at the idea of giving him
up for a prince without beauty and to such an extent without
education that, it is said, Charles VIII., when he ascended the
throne, was unable to read. When he was spoken of to the
young princess, "I am engaged in the bonds of matrimony to
Archduke Maximilian," said Anne: "and the king of France,
on his side, is affianced to the princess Marguerite of Austria;
we are not free, either of us. " She went so far as to say that
she would set out and go and join Maximilian. Her advisers,
who had nearly all of them become advocates of the French
marriage, did their best to combat this obstinacy on the part
of their princess, and they proposed to her other marriages.
Anne answered, "I will marry none but a king or a king's
son." Whilst the question was thus being disputed at the
little court of Rennes, the army of Charles VIII. was pressing
the city more closely every day. Parleys took place between
the leaders of the two hosts ; and the duke of Orleans made his
way into Rennes, had an interview with the duchess Anne,
and succeeded in shaking her in her refusal of any French
marriage. "Many maintain," says Count Philip de Segur
[Histoire de Charles V1IL, t. i. p. 217], "that Charles VIII.
himself entered alone and without escort into the town he
was besieging, had a conversation with the young duchess,
and left to her the decision of their common fate, declaring to
her that she was free and he her captive, that all roads would
\>e open to her to go to England or to Germany, and that, for
himself, he would go to Touraine to await the decision whereon
depended together with the happiness of his own future that
of all the kingdom." Whatever may be the truth about these
chivalrous traditions, there was concluded on the 15th of Sep
tember, 1491, a treaty whereby the two parties submitted
themselves for an examination of all questions that con
cerned them to twenty-four commissioners taken half and
half from the two hosts; and, in order to give the precon
certed resolution an appearance of mutual liberty, authority
was given to the young duchess Anne to go, if ehe please^

CH. XXYL] CHARLES V1IL (1483-1498). 399

and join Maximilian in Germany, Charles VUL, accompanied
by a hundred men-at-arms and fifty archers of his guard,
again entered Eennes ; and three days afterwards the king of
France and the duchess of Brittany were secretly affianced in
the chapel of Nortre-Dame. The duke of Orleans, the duchess
of Bourbon, the prince of Orange, Count Dunois, and some
Breton lords were the sole witnesses of the ceremony. Next
day Charles VIII. left Eennes and repaired to the castle of
Langeais in Touraine. There the duchess Anne joined him
a fortnight afterwards. The young princess Marguerite of
Austria, who had for eight years been under guardianship and
education of Amboise as the future wife of the king of France,
was removed from France and taken back into Flanders to
her father Archduke Maximilian with all the external honors
that could alleviate such an insult. On the 13th of December,

1491, the contract of marriage between Charles VIII. and Anne
of Brittany was drawn up in the great hall of the castle of
Langeais, in two drafts, one in French and the other in Breton.
The bishop of Alby celebrated the nuptial ceremony. By that
deed "if my Lady Anne were to die before King Charles and
his children issue of their marriage, she ceded and transferred
irrevocably to him and his successors kings of France, all her
rights to the duchy of Brittany. King Charles ceded in like
manner to my Lady Anne his rights to the possession of the
said duchy if he were to die before her without children born
of their marriage. My Lady Anne could not, in case of wid
owhood, contract a second marriage save with the future king,
if it were his pleasure and were possible, or with other near
and presumptive future successor to the throne, who should be
bound to make to the king regnant, on account of the said
duchy, the same acknowledgments that the predecessors of
the said Lady Anne had made." On the 7th of February,

1492, Anne was crowned at St. Denis; and next day, the 8th
of February, she made her entry in state into Paris amidst
the joyful and earnest acclamations of the public. A sensible
and a legitimate joy: for the reunion of Brittany to France
was the consolidation of the peace which, in this same century,
on the 17th of September, 1453, had put an end to the Hundred
Years' War between France and England, and was the greatest
act that remained to be accomplished to insure the definitive
victory and the territorial constitution of French nationality.

Charles VIII. was pleased with and proud of himself. He
had achieved a brilliant and a difficult marriage. In Europe

400 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvi

and within his own household he had made a display of power
and independence. In order to espouse Anne of Brittany he
had sent back Marguerite of Austria to her father. He had
gone in person and withdrawn from prison his cousin Louis of
Orleans, whom his sister Anne de Beaujeu had put there ; and
eo far from having got embroiled with her he saw all the royal
family reconciled around him. This was no little success for a
young prince of twenty-one. He thereupon devoted himself
with ardor and confidence to his desire of winning back the
kingdom of Naples which Alphonso I. , king of Arragon, had
wrested from the House of France, and of thereby re-opening
for himself in the East and against Islamry that career of
Christian glory which had made a saint of his ancestor Louis
IX. Mediocre men are not safe from the great dreams which
have more than once seduced and ruined the greatest men.
The very mediocre son of Louis XI., on renouncing his father's
prudent and by no means chivalrous policy, had no chance of
becoming a great warrior and a saint ; but not the less did he
take the initiative as to those wars in Italy which were to be
so costly to his successors and to France. By two treaties
concluded in 1493 [one at Barcalona on the 19th of January
and the other at Senlis on the 23rd of May], he gave up Rous-
sillion and Cerdagne to Ferdinand the Catholic, king of Ar
ragon, and Franche-Comte, Artois and Charolais to the House
of Austria, and, after having at such a lamentable price pur
chased freedom of movement, he went and took up his quarters
at Lyons to prepare for his Neapolitan venture.

In his counsel he found loyal and able opponents. " On the
undertaking of this trip," says Philip de Commynes, one of
those present, " there was many a discussion, for it seemed to
all folks of wisdom and experience very dangerous .... all
things necessary for so great a purpose were wanting ; the king
was very young, a poor creature, wilfull, and with but a small
attendance of wise folk and good leaders; no ready money; nei
ther tents, nor pavilions for wintering in Lombardy. One thing
good they had : a lusty company full of young men of family,
but little under control." The chief est warrior of France at
this time, Philip de Crevecoeur, marshal d'Esquerdes, threw
into the opposition the weight of his age and of his recognized
ability. * ' The greatness and tranquility of the realm, " said he,
"depends on possession of the Low-Countries; that is the
direction in which we must use all our exertions rather than
against a State, the possession of which, so far from being

OIL xxvi.] CHARLES VIII. (1483-1498), 401

advantageous to us, could not but weaken us." " Unhappily,"
says the latest, learned historian of Charles VIII. [Histoire de
Charles FIJI., by the late M. de Cherrier, t. i. p. 393], "the
veteran marshal died on the 22nd of April, 1494, in a small
town some few leagues from Lyons, and thenceforth all hope
of checking the current became visionary .... On the 8th of
September, 1494, Charles VIII. started from Grenoble, crossed
Mount Genevre, and went and slept at Oulex, which was terri
tory of Piedmont. In the evening a peasant who was accused
of being a master of Vaudery [i. e. one of the Vaudois, a small
population of reformers in the AJps, between Piedmont and
Dauphiny] was brought before him ; the king gave him audience,
and then handed him over to the provost, who had him hanged
on a tree. " By such an act of severity, perpetrated in a foreign
country and on the person of one who was not his own subject,
did Charles VIII, distinguish his first entry into Italy.

It were out of place to follow out here in all its details a war
which belongs to the history of Italy far more than to that of
France: it will suffice to point out with precision the positions
of the principal Italian States at this period, and the different
shares of influence they exercised on the fate of the French ex
pedition.

Six principal States, Piedmont, the kingdom of the dukes of
Savoy ; the duchy of Milan ; the republic of Venice ; the repub
lic of Florence; Rome and the pope; and the kingdom of
Naples, co-existed in Italy at the end of the fifteenth century.
In August, 1494, when Charles VIII. started from Lyons
on his Italian expedition, Piedmont was governed by Blanche
Montferrrat, widow of Charles the Warrior, duke of Savoy, in
the name of her son Charles John Amadeo, a child only six
years old. In the duchy of Milan the power was in the hands
of Ludovic Sforza, called the Moor, who, being ambitious,
faithless, lawless, unscrupulous, employed it in banishing to
Pavia the lawful duke, his own nephew, John Galeas Mario
Sforza, of whom the Florentine ambassador said to Ludovic
himself, u This young man seems to me a good young man and
animated by good sentiments, but very deficient in wits." He
was destined to die ere long, probably by poison. The republic
of Venice had at this period for its doge Augustin Barbarigo;
and it was to the council of Ten that in respect of foreign
affairs as well as of the home department the power really be
longed. Peter de' Medici, son of Lorenzo de' Medici, the father
of the Muses* was feebly and stupidly, though with all the airs

402 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. XXVL

and pretensions of a despot, governing the republic of Florence.
Rome had for pope Alexander VI. (Roderigo Borgia), a prince
who was covetous, licentious, and brazen-facedly fickle and
disloyal in his policy, and who would be regarded as one of
the most utterly demoralized men of the fifteenth century
only that he had for son a Caesar Borgia. Finally, at Naples,
in 1494, three months before the day on which Charles VIII.
entered Italy, King Alphonso II. ascended the throne. "Nfr
man," says Commynes, "was ever more cruel than he, or
more wicked, or more vicious and tainted, or more gluttonous ;
less dangerous, however, than his father King Ferdinand, the
which did take in and betray folks whilst giving them good
cheer (kindly welcome), as hath been told to me by his rela
tives and friends, and who did never have any pity or com
passion for his poor people." Such, in Italy, whether in her
kingdoms or her republics, were the Heads with whom Charles
VIII. had to deal when he went, in the name of a disputed
right, three hundred leagues away from his own kingdom in
quest of a bootless and ephemeral conquest.

The reception he met with at the outset of his enterprise
could not but confirm him in his illusory hopes. Whilst he
was at Lyons, engaged in preparations for his departure, Duke
Charles of Savoy, whose territories were the first he would
have to cross, came to see him on a personal matter. * ' Cousin,
my good friend," said the king to him, "I am delighted to
see you at Lyons, for, if you had delayed your coming, I had
intended to go myself to see you, with a very numerous com
pany, in your own dominions, where it is likely such a visit
could not but have caused you loss. " ' ' My lord, " answered the
duke, " my only regret at your arrival in my dominions would
be that I should be unable to give you such welcome there as is
due to so great a prince. . . . However, whether here or else
where, I shall be always ready to beg that you will dispose of
me and all that pertains to me, just as of all that might belong
to your own subjects. " Duke Charles of Savoy had scarcely
exaggerated ; he was no longer living in September, 1494, when
Charles VIII. demanded of his widow Blanche, regent in the
name of her infant son, a free passage for the French army
over her territory, and she not only granted his request but,
when he entered Turin, she had him received exactly as he
might have been in the greatest cities of France. He admired
the magnificent jewels she wore ; and she offered to lend them
to himt He accepted them and soon afterwards borrowed on

CH. xxvi.] CHARLES VIII. (1483—1498). 403

the strength of them twelve thousand golden ducats; so ill-
provided was he with money. The fair regent, besides, made
him a present of a fine black horse which Commynes calls the
best in the world, and which, ten months later, Charles rode at
the battle of Fornovo, the only victory he was to gain on re
tiring from this sorry campaign. On entering the country of
the Milanese he did not experience the same feeling of con
fidence that Piedmont had inspired him with. Not that
Ludovic the Moor hesitated to lavish upon him assurances of
devotion. "Sir," said he, "have no fear for this enterprise;
there are in Italy three powers which we consider great and of
which you have one, which is Milan ; another, which is the
Venetians, does not stir ; so you have to do only with that of
Naples, and many of your predecessors have beaten us when
we were all united. If you will trust me, I will help to make
you greater than ever was Charlemagne ; and when you have in
your hands this kingdom of Naples, we shall easily drive yon
Turk out of that empire of Constantinople. These words
pleased Charles VIII. mightily, and he would have readily
pinned his faith to them ; but he had at his side some persons
more clear-sighted, and Ludovic had enemies who did not deny
themselves the pleasure of enlightening the king concerning
him. He invited Charles to visit Milan ; he desired to parade
before the eyes of the people his alliance and intimate friend
ship with the powerful king of France ; but Charles, who had
at first treated him as a friend, all at once changed his
demeanor and refused to go to Milan " so as not to lose time."
Ludovic was too good a judge to make any mistake in the
matter ; but he did not press the point. Charles resumed his
road to Piacenza, where his army awaited him. At Pa via,
vows, harangues, felicitations, protestations of devotion were
lavished upon him without restoring his confidence ; quarters
had been assigned to him within the city; he determined to oc
cupy the castle, which was in a state of defence ; his own guard
took possession of the guard-posts ; and the watch was doubled
during the night. Ludovic appeared to take no notice and
continued to accompany the king as far as Piacenza, the last
town in the State of Milan. Into it Charles entered with
7800 horse, many Swiss foot, and many artillerymen and
bombardiers. The Italian population regarded this army with
an admiration tinged with timidity and anxiety. News was
heard there to the effect that young John Galers, nephew of
Ludovic the Moor and lawful duke of Milan, was dead. He

404 BISTORT OF FRANCE. fen.

left a son, five years old, for whom he had at Pavia implored
the king's protection; and "I will look upon him as my own,"
King Charles had answered as he fondled the child. Ludovic
set out in haste for Milan ; and it was not long before it was
known that he had been proclaimed duke and put in possession
of the duchy. Distrust became general throughout the army,
"those who ought to have known best told me," says
Commynes, " that several, who had at first commended the
trip, now found fault with it, and that there was a great incli
nation to turn back." However, the march was continued
forward ; and on the 29th of October, 1494, the French army
encamped before Sarzana, a Florentine town. Ludovic the
Moor suddenly arrived in the camp with new proposals of
alliance, on new conditions: Charles accepted some of them
and rejected the principal ones. Ludovic went away again on
the 3rd of November, never to return.

From this day the king of France might reckon him amongst
his enemies. With the republic of Florence was henceforth to
be Charles' business. Its head, Peter de' Medici, went to the
camp at Sarzana, and Philip de Commynes started on an em
bassy to go and negotiate with the doge and senate of Venice,
which was the chiefest of the Italian powers and the territory
of which lay far out of the line of march of the king of France
and his army. In the presence of the king of France and in
the midst of his troops Peter de' Medici grew embarrassed and
confused. He had gone to meet the king without the knowl
edge of the Florentines and was already alarmed at the gravity
of his situation ; and he offered more concession and submis
sion than was demanded of him. " Those who treated with
him," says Commynes, "told me, turning him to scorn and
and ridicule, that they were dumbfounded at his so readily
granting so great a matter and what they were not prepared
for." Feelings were raised to the highest pitch at Florence
when his weaknesses were known. There was a numerous
and powerful party, consisting of the republicans and the en
vious, hostile to the Medicis; and they eagerly seized the
opportunity of attacking them. A deputation, comprising the
most considerable men of the city, was sent, on the 5th of
November, to the king of France with a commission to obtain
from him more favorable conditions. The Dominican, Jerome
Savonarola, at that time the popular oracle of Florence was
one of them. With a pious hauteur that was natural and
habitual to hi™ he adopted the same tone towards Charles as

CH. xxvi. J CHARLES VIII. (1483—1498). 405

towards the people of Florence. " Hearken thou to my words,"
said he, "and grave them upon my heart. I warn thee, in
God's name, that thou must show thyself merciful and forbear
ing to the people of Florence, if thou wouldest that He should
aid thee in thy enterprise." Charles, who scarcely knew
Savonarola by name, answered simply that he bid not wish to
do the Florentines any harm but that he demanded a free pass
age, and all that had been promised him: " I wish to be re
ceived at Florence," he added, uto sign there a definitive
treaty which shall settle every thing." At these cold expres
sions the ambassadors withdrew in some disquitoide. Peter
de' Medici, who was lightly confident, returned to Florence on
the 8th of November, and attempted again to seize the supreme
power. A violent outbreak took place ; Peter was as weak be
fore the Florentine populace as he had been before the king of
France; and, having been harried in his very palace, which
was given up to pillage, it was only in the disguise of a monk
that he was able, on the 9th of November, to get out of the
city in company with his two brothers, Julian and Cardinal
John de' Medici, of whom the latter was to be, ten years later,
Pope Leo X. Peter and his brothers having been driven out,
the Florentines were anxious to be reconciled with Charles
VIII. Both by political tradition and popular bias the Floren
tine republic was favorable to France. Charles, annoyed at
what had just taken place, showed but slight inclination to
enter into negotiation with them ; but his wisest advisers repre
sented to him that, in order to accomplish his enterprise and
march securely on Naples, he needed the goodwill of Florence ;
and the new Florentine authorities promised him the best of
receptions in their city. Into it Charles entered on the 17th of
November, 1494, at the head of all his army. His reception on
the part of officials and populace was really magnificent. Ne
gotiation was resumed; Charles was at first very exacting;
the Florentine negotiators protested ; one of them, Peter Cap-
poni, "a man of great wits and great courage," says Guicciar-
dini, " highly esteemed for those qualities in Florence and issue
of a family which had been very powerful in the republic,"
when he heard read the exorbitant conditions proposed to
them on the king's behalf, started up suddenly, took the paper
from the secretary's hands and tore it up before the king's
eyes, saying, "Since you impose upon us things so dishonor
able, have your trumpets sounded, and we will have our bells
rung;" and he went forth from the chamber together with hia

406 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH.

comrades. Charles and his advisers thought better of it;
mutual concessions were made; a treaty, concluded on the
25th of November, secured to the king of France a free passage
through the whole extent of the republic and a sum of 120,000
golden florins "to help towards the success of the expedition
against Naples;" the commune of Florence engaged to revoke
the order putting a price upon the head of Peter de* Medici as
well as confiscating his goods, and not to enforce against him
any penalty beyond proscription from the territory ; and, the
honor as well as the security of both the contracting parties
having thus been provided for, Charles VIII. left Florence and
took with his army the road towards the Roman States.

Having on the 7th of December, 1494, entered Acquapendente,
and, on the 10th, Viterbo, he there received, on the following
day, a message from Pope Alexander VI., who in his own
name and that of Alphonso II., king of Naples, made hi™ an
offer of a million ducats to defray the expenses of the war, and
a hundred thousand livres annually on condition that he would
abandon his enterprise against the kingdom of Naples. "I
have no mind to make terms with the Arragonese usurper,"
answered Charles: " I will treat directly with the pope when I
am in Rome, which I reckon upon entering about Christmas.
I have already made known to him my intentions ; I will forth
with send him ambassadors commissioned to repeat them
to him." And he did send to him the most valiant of his war
riors, Louis de la Tremoille, " the which was there," says the
contemporary chronicler, John Bouchet, "with certain speakers
who, after having pompously reminded the pope of the whole
history of the French kingship in its relations with the papacy,
ended up in the following strain : ' prayeth you, then, our sov
ereign lord the king not to give him occasion to be, to his great
sorrow, the first of his lineage who ever had war and discord
with the Roman Church, whereof he and the Christian kings
of France, his predecessors, have been protectors and augmen-
ters.' More briefly and with an affectation of sorrowful
graciousness the pope made answer to the ambassador : ' If it
please King Charles, my eldest spiritual son, to enter into my
city without arms in all humility, he will be most welcome;
but much would it annoy me if the army of thy king should
enter, because that, under shadow of it, which is said to be
great and riotous, the factions and bands of Rome might rise
up and cause uproar and scandal, wherefrom great discomforts
might happen to the citizens.' " For three weeks the king and

OH. XXYL] CHARLES VIII. (1483—1498). 407

the pope offered the spectacle, only too common in history, of
the hypocrisy of might pitted against the hypocrisy of religion.
At last the pope saw the necessity of yielding ; he sent for
Prince Ferdinand, son of the king of Naples, and told him that
he must no longer remain at Rome with the Neapolitan troops,
for that the king of Prance was absolute about entering; and
he at the same time handed him a safe-conduct under Charles'
own hand. Ferdinand refused the safe-conduct and threw
himself upon his knees before the pope, asking him for his
blessing: "Rise, my dear son, " said the pope: "go, and have
good hope; God will come to our aid." The Neapolitans de
parted, and on the 1st of January, 1495, Charles VIII. entered
Rome with his army, " saying gentlewise," according to Bran-
tome, "that awhile agone he had made avow to my lord St.
Peter of Rome, and that of necessity he must accomplish it at
the peril of his life. Behold him, then, entered into Rome,"
continues Brantome, " in bravery and triumph, himself armed
at all points, with lance on thigh, as if he would fain prick
forward to the charge. Marching in this fine and furious order
of battle, with trumpets a-sounding and drums a-beating, he
enters in and takes his lodging, by the means of his harbingers,
wheresoever it seems to him good, has his bodies of guards set,
posts his sentinels about the places and districts of the noble
city, with no end of rounds and patrols, has his tribunals and
his gallows planted in five or six different spots, his edicts and
ordinances being published and proclaimed by sound of trum
pet, as if he had been in Paris. Go find me ever a king of
France who did such things, save Charlemagne ; yet trow I he
did not bear himself with authority so superb and imperious.
What remained, then, more for this great king, if not to make
himself full master of this glorious city which had subdued all
the world in days of yore, as it was in his power to do, and as
he, perchance, would fain have done, in accordance with his
ambition and with some of his council, who urged him might
ily thereto, if it were only for to keep himself secure. But far
from this : violation of holy religion gave him pause, and the
reproach that might have been brought against him of having
done offence to his Holiness, though reason enough had been
given him: on the contrary, he rendered him all honor and
obedience, even to kissing in all humility his slipper I"
[(Euvres de Brantdme (Paris, 1822) ; t. ii. p. 3.] No excuse is
required for quoting this fragment of Brantome; for it gives
the truest and most striking picture of the conditions of facts

18 VOL. 2-

408 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. XXVL

and sentiments during this transitory encounter between a
madly adventurous king and a brazen-faced dishonest pope.
Thus they passed four weeks at Rome, the pope having retired
at first to the Vatican and afterwards to the castle of St. An-
gelo, and Charles remaining master of the city, which, in a fit
of mutual ill-humor and mistrust, was for one day given over
to pillage and the violence of the soldiery. At last, on the 15th
of January, a treaty was concluded which regulated pacific re
lations between the two sovereigns, and secured to the French
army a free passage through the States of the Church, both
going to Naples and also returning, provisional possession of
the town of Civita Vecchia, on condition that it should be
restored to the pope when the king returned to France. On
the 16th and 19th of January the pope and the king had two
interviews, one private and the other public, at which they
renewed their engagements, and paid one another the stipu
lated honors. It was announced that, on the 23rd of January,
the Arragonese king of Naples, Alphonso II. , had abdicated in
favor of his son, Ferdinand II. ; and, on the 28th of January,
Charles VIII. took solemn leave of the pope, received his bless
ing, and left Rome as he had entered it, at the head of his
army, and more confident than ever in the success of the ex
pedition he was going to carry out.

Ferdinand II. , the new king of Naples, who had no lack of
energy or courage, was looking everywhere, at home and
abroad, for forces and allies to oppose the imminent invasion.
To the duke of Milan he wrote, ' Remember that we two are of
the same blood. It is much to be desired that a league should
at once be formed between the pope, the kings of the Romans
and Spain, you and Venice. If these powers were united,
Italy would have nought to fear from any. Give me your sup
port; I have the greatest need of it. If you back me, I shall
owe to you the preservation of my throne and I will honor you
as my father." He ordered the Neapolitan envoy at Constan
tinople to remind Sultan Bajazet of the reinforcements he had
promised his father, King Alphonso ; " Time passes; the king
of France is advancing in person on Naples; be instant in
solicitation; be importunate, if necessary, so that the Turkish
army cross the sea without delay. Be present yourself at the
embarkation of the troops. Be active ; run ; fly. " He himself
ran through all his kingdom, striving to resuscitate some little
spark of affection and hope. He had no success anywhere;
the memory of the king his father was hateful; he was himself

CH. xxvi.] CHARLES VIII. (1483—1498). 409

young and without influence; his ardor caused fear instead
of sympathy. Charles kept advancing along the kingdom
through the midst of people that remained impassive when
they did not give him a warm reception. The garrison of
Monte San Giovanni, the strongest place on the frontier, de
termined to resist. The place was carried by assault in a few
hours, and "the assailants," says a French chronicler, " with
out pity or compassion, made short work of all those plunder
ers and malefactors, whose bodies they hurled down the walls.
The carnage lasted eight whole hours. " A few days afterwards
Charles with his guard arrived in front of SanGermano: " The
clergy awaited him at the gate with cross and banner; men of
note carried a dais under the which he took his place ; behind
him followed men, women, and children, chanting this versicle
from the Psalms: ' Benedictus qui venit in domine Domini!
Blessed be he that cometh in the name of the Lord.'" The
town of Capua was supposed to be very much attached to the
House of Arragon ; John James Trivulzio, a valiant Milanese
captain who had found asylum and fortune in Naples, had the
command there; and thither King Ferdinand hurried. "I am
going to Naples for troops," said he to the inhabitants; "wait
for me confidently ; and, if by to-morrow evening you do not
see me return, make your own terms with King Charles ; you
have my full authority." On arriving at Naples, he said to the
Neapolitans, " Hold out for a fortnight; I will not expose the
capital of my kingdom to be stormed by barbarians; if, within
a fortnight hence, I have not prevented the enemy crossing the
Volturno, you may ask him for terms of capitulation;" and
back he went to Capua. When he was within sight of the
ramparts he heard that on the previous evening, before it was
night, the French had been admitted into the town. Trivulzio
had been to visit King Charles at Teano, and had offered, in
the name of his troops and of the Capuans, to surrender
Capua ; he had even added, says Guicciardini, that he did not
despair of bringing King Ferdinand himself to an arrangement
if a suitable provision were guaranteed to him. " I willingly
accept the offer you make me in the name of your troops and
of the Capuans," answered Charles, "as for the Arragonese
prince, he shall be well received if he come to me ; but let him
understand not an inch of ground shall be left to him in this
kingdom; in France he shall have honors and beautiful
domains." On the 18th of February Charles entered Capua
amidst the cheers of the people ; and on the same day Trivulzio

410 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvi.

went over to his service with a hundred lances. On returning
to Naples, Ferdinand found the gates close, and could not get
into Castel Nuova save by a postern. At that very moment
the mob was pillaging his stables; he went down from the
fortress, addressed the crowd collected beneath the ramparts
in a few sad and bitter words, into which he tried to infuse
some leaven of hope, took certain measures to enable the two
forts of Naples, Castel Nuovo and Castel dell' Uovo, to defend
themselves for a few days longer, and, on the 23rd of Feb
ruary, went for refuge to the island of Ischia, repeating out
loud, as long as he had Naples in sight, this versicle from the
Psalms: " Except the Lord keep the city, the watchman
waketh but in vain!" At Ischia itself " he had a fresh trial to
make," says Guicciardini, "of his courage and of the ungrate
ful faithlessness displayed towards those whom Fortune de
serts." The governor of the island refused to admit him
accompanied by more than one man. The prince, so soon as
he got in, flung himself upon him, poniard in hand, with such
fury and such an outburst of kingly authority that all the gar
rison, astounded, submitted to him and gave up to him the
fort and its rock. On the very eve of the day on which King
Ferdinand II, was thus seeking his last refuge in the island of
Ischia, Charles VIII. was entering Naples in triumph at the
head of his troops, on horseback beneath a pall of cloth of gold
borne by, four great Neapolitan lords, and " received," says
Guicciardini, " with cheers and a joy of which it would be
vain to attempt a description ; the incredih1 " exultation of a
crowd of both sexes, of every age, of every condition, of every
quality, of every party, as if he had been the father and first
founder of the city." And the great French historian bears
similar witness to that of the great Italian historian : " Never,"
says Commynes, * ' did people show so much affection to king or
nation as they showed to the king, and thought all of them to
be free of tyranny."

At the news hereof the disquietude and vexation of the prin
cipal Italian powers were displayed at Venice as well as at
Milan and at Rome. The Venetian senate, as prudent as it
was vigilant, had hitherto maintained a demeanor of expect
ancy and almost of goodwill towards France ; they hoped that
Charles VIII. would be stopped or would stop of himself in his
mad enterprise, without their being obliged to interfere. The
doge, Augustin Barbarigo, lived on very good terms with
Oommynes, who was as desirous as he was that the king

OH. xxvi.] CHARLES VIII. (1483—1498). 411

should recover his senses. Commynes was destined to learn
how diffiult and sorry a thing it is to have to promote a policy
of which you disapprove. When he perceived that a league
was near to being formed in Italy against the king of France,
he at once informed his master of it, and attempted to dissuade
the Venetians from it. They denied that they had any such
design, and showed a disposition to form in concert with the
kings of France, Spain, and the Romans, and with the whole
of Italy, a league against the Turks, provided that Charles
VIII. would consent to leave the king of Naples in possession
of his kingdom, at the same time keeping for himself three
places therein, and accepting a sum in ready money which
Venice would advance. "Would to God," says Commynes,
" that the king had been pleased to listen then! Of all did I
give him notice, and I got bare answer . . . When the Vene
tians heard that the king was in Naples and that the strong
fort, which they had great hopes would hold out, was sur
rendered, they sent for me one morning, and I found them in
great number, about fifty or sixty, in the apartment of the
prince (the doge), who was ill. Some were sitting upon a
staircase leading to the benches and had their heads resting
upon their hands, others otherwise, all showing that they had
great sadness at heart. And I trow that, when news come to
Rome of the battle lost at Cannae against Annibal, the senators
who had remained there were not more dumbfounded and dis
mayed than these were; for not a single one made sign of
seeing me, or spoke to me one word, save the duke (the doge),
who asked me if the king would keep to that of which he had
constantly sent them word and which I had said to them. I
assured them stoutly that he would and I opened up ways for
to remain at sound peace, hoping to remove their suspicions,
and then I did get me gone. "

The league was concluded on the 31st of March, 1495, between
Pope Alexander VI. , Emperor Maximilian I., as king of the
Romans, the king of Spain, the Venetians, and the duke of
Milan: "To three ends," says Commynes, "for to defend
Christendom against the Turks, for the defence of Italy, and
for the preservation of their Estates. There was nothing in it
against the king, they told me, but it was to secure themselves
froncf him ; they did not like his so deluding the world with
words by saying that all he wanted was the kingdom and then
to march against the Turk, and all the while he was showing
quite the contrary. ... I remained in the city about a month

412 HISTORY OF FRANCE. LCH. xxvi.

after that, being as well treated as before ; and then I went my
way, having been summoned by the king and being conducted
in perfect security, at their expense, to Ferrara, whence I went
to Florence for to await the king.'*

When Ferdinand II. took refuge in the Island of Ischia, and
Oastel Nuovo and Castel dell'Uovo had surrendered at Naples,
Charles VIII. , considering himself in possession of the king
dom, announced his intention and, there is reason to believe,
actually harbored the design of returning to France, without
asserting any further his pretensions as a conqueror. On the
20th of March, before the Italian league had been definitively
concluded, Brigonnet, cardinal of St. Malo, who had attended
the king throughout his expedition, wrote to the queen, Anne
of Britanny : " His Majesty is using diligence as best he can to
return over yonder and has expressly charged me, for my part,
to hasten his affairs. I hope he will be able to start hence about
the 8th of April. He will leave over here, as lieutenant, my
lord de Montpensier, with a thousand or twelve hundred lances,
partly French and partly of this country, fifteen hundred Swiss
and a thousand French cross-bowmen. " Charles himself wrote,
on the 28th of March, to his brother-in-law the duke of Bourbon
that he would mount his horse immediately after Quasimodo
[the first Sunday after Faster] to return to France without
halting or staying in any place. But Charles, whilst so speak
ing and projecting, was forgetful of his giddy indolence, his
frivolous tastes, and his passion for theatrical display and licen
tious pleasure. The climate, the country, the customs of Na
ples charmed him. " You would never believe," he wrote to
the duke of Bourbon, " what beautiful gardens I have in this
city ; on my faith, they seem to me to lack only Adam and Eve
to make of them an earthly paradise, so beautiful are they and
full of nice and curious things, as I hope to tell you soon. To
add to that, I have found in this country the best of painters :
and I will send you some of them to make the most beautiful
ceilings possible. The ceilings at Beauce, Lyons, and other
places in France, do not approach those of this place in beauty

and richness Wherefore I shall provide myself with

them, and bring them with me for to have some done at Am-
boise." Politics were forgotten in the presence of these royal
fancies. Charles VIII. remained nearly two months at Naples
after the Italian league had been concluded, and whilst it was
making its preparations against him was solely concerned
about enjoying, in his beautiful but precarious kingdom, "all

OH. xxvi.] CHARLES VIII. (1483—1498). 413

sorts of mundane pleasaunces, " as his councillor, the cardinal
of St. Malo says, and giving entertainments to his new subjects,
as much disposed as himself to forget everything in amusement.
On the 12th of May, 1495, all the population of Naples and of
the neighboring country was a-foot early to see their new king
make his entry in state as king of Naples, Sicily, and Jerusa
lem, with his Neapolitan court and his French army. Charles
was on horseback beneath a rich dais borne by great Neapolitan
lords; he had a close crown on his head, the sceptre in his right
hand and a golden globe in his left ; in front of this brilliant
train he took his way through the principal streets of the city,
halting at the five knots of the noblesse where the gentlemen
and their wives who had assembled there detained him a long
while requesting him to be pleased to conter with his own
hand the order of knighthood on their sons, which he willingly
did. At last he reached the cathedral-church of St. Januarius,
which had recently been rebuilt by Alphonso I. of Arragon,
after the earthquake of 1456. The archbishop, at the head of
his clergy, came out to meet him, and conducted him to the
front of the high-altar where the head of St. Januarius was ex
hibited. When all these solemnities had been accomplished to
the great satisfaction of the populace, bon-fires were lighted up
for three days; [the city was illuminated; and only a week
afterwards, on the 20th of May, 1495, Charles VIII. started from
Naples to return to France with an army at the most from
twelve to fifteen thousand strong, leaving for guardian of his
new. kingdom his cousin, Gilbert of Bourbon, count cle Mont-
pensier, a brave but indolent knight, (who never rose, it was
said, until noon,) with eight or ten thousand men, scattered
for the most part throughout the provinces.

During the months of April and May, thus wasted by Charles
VIII., the Italian league, and especially the Venetians and the
duke of Milan, Ludovic the Moor, had vigorously pushed for
ward their preparations for war, and had already collected an
army more numerous than that with which the king of France,
in order to return home, would have to traverse the whole of
Italy. He took more than six weeks to traverse it, passing
three days at Rome, four at Siena, the same number at Pisa,
and three at Lucca, though he had declared that he would not
halt anywhere. He evaded entering Florence, where he had
made promises which he could neither retract nor fulfil. The
Dominican Savonarola, ' ' who had always preached greatly in
the king's favor," says Commynes, "and by his words had

414 HISTORY OF FRANCS. [CH. xxvi.

kept the Florentines from turning against us," came to see him
on his way at Poggibonsi. " I asked him," says Commynes,
" whether the king would be able to cross without danger to
his person, seeing the great muster that was being made by the
Venetians. He answered me that the king would have trouble
on the road, but that the honor would remain his though he
had but a hundred men at his back; but, seeing that he had
not done well for the reformation of the Church, as he ought,
and had suffered his men to plunder and rob the people, God
had given sentence against him and in short he would have a
touch of the scourge. " Several contemporary historians affirm
that if the Italian army, formed by the Venetians and the duke
of Milan, had opposed the march of the French army, they
might have put it in great peril ; but nothing of the kind was
attempted. It was at the passage of the Apennies, so as to
cross them and descend into the duchy of Parma, that Charles
VIII. had for the first time to overcome resistance, not from
men but from nature. He had in his train a numerous and
powerful artillery from which he promised himself a great deal
when the day of battle came ; and he had to get it up and down
by steep paths, " where never," says the chronicle of La Tr6-

moille, "had car or carriage gone The king, knowing

that the lord of La Tremoille, such was his boldness and strong
will, thought nothing impossible, gave to him this duty which
he willingly undertook, and, to the end that the foot-men,
Swiss, German, and others, might labor thereat without fear
ing the heat, he addressed them as follows: ' The proper nature
of us Gauls is strength, boldness, and ferocity. We triumphed
at our coming ; better would it be for us to die than to lose by
cowardice the delight of such praise ; we are all in the flower
of our age and the vigor of our years ; let each lend a hand to
the work of dragging the gun-carriages and carrying the can
non-balls; ten crowns to the first man that reaches the top of
the mountain before me !" Throwing off his armor, La Tre*-
moille, in hose and shirt, himself lent a hand to the work; by
dint of pulling and pushing the artillery was got to the brow of
the mountain ; it was then harder still to get it down the other
Bide along a very narrow and rugged incline; and five whole
days were spent on this rough work which luckily the generals
of the enemy di£, not attempt to molest. La Tremoille, " black
as a Moor," says the chronicle, "by reason of the murderous
heat he had endured, made his report to the king, who said,
1 By the light of this day, cousin, you have done more than

CH. xxvi.] CHARLES VIII. (1483—1498). 415

ever could Annibal of Carthage or Csesar have done, to the
peril of your person, whereof you have not been sparing to
serve me, me and mine. I vow to God, that if I may only see
you back in France, the recompense I hope to make you shall
be so great that others shall conceive fresh desire to serve me.' "
Charles VIII. was wise to treat his brave men well ; for the
day was at hand when he would need them and all their brav
ery. It was in the duchy of Parma, near the town of Fornovo,
on the right bank of Taro, an affluent of the Po, that the
French and Italian armies met, on the 5th of July, 1495. The
French army was nine or ten thousand strong, with five or six
thousand camp-followers, servants or drivers; the Italian
army numbered at least thirty thousand men, well supplied
and well rested, whereas the French were fatigued with their
long march and very badly off for supplies. During the night
between the 5th and 6th of July a violent storm burst over
the country, "rain, lightenings and thunder so mighty," says
Commynes, "that none could say more; seemed that heaven
and earth would dissolve, or that it portended some great
disaster to come." Next day, at six in the morning, Charles
VIII. heard mass, received the communion, mounted on
horseback, and set out to join his own division. "I went to
him," says Commynes, "and found him armed at all points
and mounted upon the finest horse I had ever seen in my life>
called Savoy; duke Charles of Savoy (? the duchess of Savoy,
v. p. 528) had given it him; it was black and had but one eye;
it was a middle-sized horse, of good height for him who was
upon it. Seemed that this young man was quite other than
either his nature, his stature, or his complexion bespoke him,
for he was very timid in speaking, and is so to this day. That
horse made him look tall ; and he had a good countenance and
of good color, and speech bold and sensible." On perceiving
Commynes, the king said to him, " Go and see if yonder folks
would fain parley." " Sir," answered Commynes, "I will do
so willingly ; but I never saw two so great hosts so near to one
another, and yet go their ways without fighting." He went,
nevertheless, to the Venetian advanced posts, and his
trumpeter was admitted to the presence of the marquis of
Mantua, who commanded the Italian army; but skirmishing
had already commenced in all quarters, and the first boom of
the cannon was heard just as the marquis was reading Com
mynes' letter. "It is too late to speak of peace," said he; and
the trumpeter was sent back. The king had joined the

4J6 BISTORT OF FEANCE. [CH,

division which he was to lead to battle. flt Gentlemen," said
he to the men-at-arms who pressed around him, "you will
live or die here with me, will you not? " and then raising his
voice that he might be heard by the troops: ' 'They are ten
times as many as we," he said, "but you are ten times better
than they ; God loves the French; He is with us and will do
battle for us. As far as Naples I have had the victory over
my enemies; I have brought you hither without shame or
blame \ with God's help I will lead you back into France to
our honor and that of our kingdom." The men-at-arms made
the sign of the cross ; the foot-soldiers kissed the ground ; and
the king made several knights according to custom before
going into action. The marquis of Mantua's squadrons were
approaching. "Sir, "said the bastard of Bourbon, "there is
no longer time for the amusement of making knights; the
enemy is coming on in force; go we at him." The king gave
orders to charge, and the battle began at all points.

It was very hotly contested, but did not last long, alterna
tions of success and reverse on both sides. Two principal com
manders in the king's army, Louis de la Treemoille and John
James Trivulzio, sustained without recoiling the shook of
troops far more numerous than their own. "At the throat!
at the throat ! " shouted La Tremoille after the first onset, and
his three hundred men-at-arms burst upon the enemy and
broke their line. In the midst of the melley, the French bag
gage was attacked by the Stradiots, a sort of light-infantry
composed of Greeks recruited and paid by the Venetians.
"Let them be," said Trivulzio to his men: "their zeal for
plunder will make them forget all, and we shall give the better
account of them." At one moment the king had advanced
before the main body of his guard without looking to see if
they were close behind him, and was not more than a hundred
paces from the marquis of Mantua, who, seeing him scantily
attended, bore down at the head of his cavalry. "Not pos
sible is it," says Commynes, "to do more doughtily than was
done on both sides." The king, being very hard-pressed,
defended himself fiercely against those who would have
taken him; the bastard Matthew of Bourbon, his brother-in
arms and one of the bravest knights in the army, had thrown
himself twenty paces in front of him to cover him, and had
just been taken prisoner by the marquis of Mantua in person,
when a mass of the royal troops came to their aid and released
tbem from all peril. Here it was that Peter du Terrail, the

CH. XTTI j CHARLES F/LT. (1483—1498). 417

Chevalier de Bayard, who was barely twenty years of age and
destined to so glorious a renown, made his first essay in arms;
he had two horses killed under him and took a standard,
which he presented to the king, who after the battle made him
a present of five hundred crowns.

Charles VIII. remained master of the battle-field. " There
were still to be seen," says Commynes, " outside their camp, a
great number of men-at-arms whose lances and beads only
were visible, and likewise foot-soldiers. The king put it to the
council whether he ought to give chase to them or not ; some
were for marching against them ; but the French were not of
this opinion ; they said that enough had been done, that it was
late, and that it was time to get lodged. Night was coming
on ; the host which had been in front of us withdrew into their
camp, and we went to get lodged a quarter of a league from
where the battle had been. The king put up at a poorly-built
farm-house, but he found there an infinite quantity of corn in
sheaves, whereby the whole army profited. Some other bios
of houses there were hard by, which did for a few ; and every
one lodged as he could, without making any cantonment, I
know well enough that I lay in a vineyard, at full length on
the bare ground, without anything else and without cloak,
for the king had borrowed mine in the morningo Whoever
had the wherewith made a meal, but few had, save a hunch of
bread from a varlet's knapsack. I went to see the king in his
chamber, where there were some wounded whom he was
having dressed ; he wore a good mien, and every one kept a
good face ; and we were not so boastful as a little before the
battle, because we saw the enemy near us." Six days after
the battle, on the 12th of July, the king wrote to his sister,
the duchess Anne of Bourbon. "Sister, my dear, I commend
myself to you right heartily. I wrote to my brother how that
I found in my way a big army that Lord Ludovic, the Vene
tians, and their allies, had got ready against me, thinking to
keep me from passing. Against which, with God's help, such
resistance was made, that I am come hither without any loss.
Furthermore, I am using the greatest diligence that can be to
get right away, and I hope shortly to see you, which is my
desire, in order to tell you at good length all about my trip.
And so God bless you, sister, my dear, and may He have you
in His keeping ! "

Both armies might and did claim the victory, for they had,
each of them, partly succeeded in their design. The Italian*

418 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. XXYI.

wished to unmistakably drive out of Italy Charles Vill., who
was withdrawing voluntarily ; but to make it an unmistakable
retreat, he ought to have been defeated, his army beaten, and
himself perhaps a prisoner. With that view they attempted
to bar his passage and beat him on Italian ground: in that
they failed; Charles, remaining master of the battle-field,
went on his way in freedom and covered with glory, he and
his army. He certainly left Italy, but he left it with the feel
ing of superiority in arms and with the intention of returning
thither better informed and better supplied. The Italian allies
were triumphant, but without any ground of security or any
lustre; the expedition of Charles VIII. was plainly only the
beginning of the foreigner's ambitious projects, invasions and
was against their own beautiful land. The king of France and
his men of war had not succeeded in conquering it, but they
had been charmed with such an abode ; they had displayed in
their campaign knightly qualities more brilliant and more
masterful than the studied duplicity and elegant effeminacy
of the Italians of the fifteenth century, and, after the battle of
Fornovo, they returned to France justly proud and foolishly
confident notwithstanding the incompleteness of their success.
Charles VIII. reigned for nearly three years longer after his
return to his kingdom ; and for the first two of them he passed
his time in indolently dreaming of his plans for a fresh inva
sion of Italy and in frivolous abandonment to his pleasures and
the entertainments at his court, which he moved about from
Lyons to Moulins, to Paris, to Tours and to Amboise. The
news which came to him from Italy was worse and worse
every day. The count de Montpensier, whom he had left at
Naples, could not hold his own there and died a prisoner there
on the llth of November, 1496, after having found himself
driven from place to place by Ferdinand II., who by degrees
recovered possession of nearly all his kingdom, merely, him
self also, to die there on the 6th of October, leaving for his
uncle and successor, Frederick III., the honor of recovering the
last four places held by the French. Charles ordered a fresh
army of invasion to be formed, and the duke of Orleans was
singled out to command it; but he evaded this commission.
The young dauphin, Charles Orlando, three years old, had just
died, "a fine child and bold of speech," says Commynes, "and
one that feared not the things that other children are wont to
fear." Duke Louis of Orleans, having thus become heir to the
throne, did not care to go and run risks at a distance. He,

OH. xxvi.] CHARLES VIII. (1483—1498). 419

nevertheless, declared his readiness to obey an express com
mand from the king if the title of lieutenant-general were
given him; but " I will never send him to war on compulsion,"
said Charles, and nothing more was said about it. Whilst still
constantly talking of the war he had in view, Charles attended
more often and more earnestly than he hitherto had to the in
ternal affairs of his kingdom. "He had gotten it into his
head," says Commynes, " that he would fain live according to
God's commandments, and set justice and the Church in good
order. He would also revise his finances, in such sort as to
levy on the people but twelve hundred thousand francs, and
that in form of talliage, besides his own property on which he
would live, as did the kings of old." His two immediate prede
cessors, Charles VII. and Louis XI. had decreed the collation
and revision of local customs so often the rule of civil jurisdic
tion ; but the work made no progress : Charles VIII. by a de
cree dated March 15, 1497, abridged the formalities and urged
on the execution of it, though it was not completed until the
reign of Charles IX. By another decree, dated August 2, 1497,
he organized and regulated, as to its powers as well as its com
position, the king's grand council, the supreme administrative
body which was a fixture at Paris. He began even to contem
plate a reformation of his own lif e ; he had inquiries made as to
how St. Louis used to proceed in giving audience to the lower
orders; his intention, he said, was to henceforth follow the
footsteps of the most justice-loving of French kings. " He set
up, " says Commynes, ' ' a public audience whereat he gave ear
to everybody and especially to the poor; I saw him thereat, a
week before his death, for two good hours, and I never saw
him again. He did not much business at this audience ; but at
least it was enough to keep folks in awe and especially his own
officers, of whom he had suspended some for extortion." It is
but too often a man's fate to have his life slip from him just as
he was beginning to make a better use of it. On the 7th of
April, 1498, Charles VIII. was pleased, after dinner, to go down
with the queen into the fosses of the castle of Amboise, to see a
game of tennis. Their way lay through a gallery the opening
of which was very low ; and the king, short as he was, hit his
forehead. Though he was a little dizzy with the blow he did
not stop, watched the players for some time, and even con
versed with several persons ; but about two in the afternoon,
whilst he was a second time traversing this passage on his way
back to the castle, he fell backwards and lost consciousness.

420 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxm.

He was laid upon a paltry palliass in that gallery where every
body went in and out at pleasure; and in that wretched place,
after a lapse of nine hours, expired "he," says Commyne,
" who had so many fine houses and who was making so fine an
one at Amboise ; so small a matter is our miserable life, which
giveth us so much trouble for the things of the world, and
kings cannot help themselves any more than peasants. I ar
rived at Amboise two days after his decease ; I went to say
mine orison at the spot where was the corpse ; and there I was
for five or six hours. And, of a verity, there was never seen
the like mourning, nor that lasted so long ; he was so good that
better creature cannot be seen ; the most humane and gentle
address that ever was was his ; I trow that to never a man
spake he aught that could displease ; and at a better hour could
he never have died for to remain of great renown in histories
and regretted by those that served him. I trow I was the man
to whom he showed most roughness ; but knowing that it was
in his youth and that it did not proceed from him, I never bore
him ill-will for it."

Probably no king was ever thus praised for his goodness,
and his goodness alone, by a man whom he had so maltreated
and who, as judicious and independent as he was just, said of
this same king: "He was not better off for sense than for
money, and he thought of nothing but pastime and his pleas
ures."

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE WARS IN ITALY— LOUIS XH. 1498-1515.

ON ascending the throne Louis XII. reduced the public taxes
and confirmed in their posts his predecessor's chief advisers,
using to Louis de la Tremoille, who had been one of his most
energetic foes, that celebrated expression, "The king of France
avenges not the wrongs of the duke of Orleans." At the same
time on the day of his coronation at Rheims [May 27, 1492], he
assumed, besides his title of king of France, the titles of king
of Naples and of Jerusalem and duke of Milan. This was as
much as to say that he would pursue a pacific and conservative
policy at home and a warlike and adventurous policy abroad.

CH. xxvii.] LOUIS XII. (1498—1515). 431

And, indeed, his government did present these two phases so
different and inharmonious. By his policy at home Louis XII.
deserved and [obtained the name of Father of the People ; by
his enterprises and wars obroad he involved France still more
deeply than Charles VIII. had in that mad course of distant,
reckless and incoherent conquests for which his successor,
Francis I., was destined to pay by capture at Pavia and by the
lamentable treaty of Madrid, in 1526, as the price of his release.
Let us follow these two [portions of Louis XII. 's reign, each
separately, without mixing up one with the other by reason of
identity of dates. We shall thus get at a better understanding
and better appreciation of their character and their results.

Outside of France Milaness [the Milanese district] was Louis
XII. 's first thought, at his accession, and the first object of his
desire. He looked upon it as his patrimony. His grand
mother, Valentine Visconti, widow of that duke of Orleans
who had been assassinated at Paris in 1407 by order of John
the Fearless, duke of Burgundy, had been the last to inherit
the duchy of Milan which the Sforzas, in 1450, had seized.
When Charles VIII. invaded Italy in 1494, " Now is the time,"
said Louis, "to enforce the rights of Valentine Visconti, my
grandmother, to Milaness." And he, in fact, asserted them
openly and proclaimed his intention of vindicating them so
soon as he found the moment propitious. When he became
king, his chance of success was great. The duke of Milan,
Ludovic the Moor, had by his sagacity and fertile mind, by his
taste for arts and sciences and the intelligent patronage he
bestowed upon them, by his ability in speaking and by his facile
character, obtained in Italy a position far beyond his real
power. Leonardo da Vinci, one of the most eminent amongst
the noble geniuses of the age lived on intimate terms with him ;
but Ludovic was, nevertheless, a turbulent rascal and a greedy
tyrant, of whom those who did not profit by his vices or the
enjoyments of his court were desirous of being relieved. He
had, moreover, embroiled himself with his neighbors the Vene
tians, who were watching for an opportunity of aggrandizing
themselves at his expense. As early as the 20th of April,
1498, a fortnight after his accession, Louis XII. addressed to
the Venetians a letter "most gracious," says the contem
porary chronicler Marino Sanuto, "and testifying great good
will ;" and the special courier who brought it declared that the
king had written to nobody in Italy except the pope, the Vene
tians, and the Florentines. The Venetians did not care to

422 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [en. xxvu.

-jieglect such an opening ; and they at once sent three ambas
sadors to Louis XII. Louis heard the news thereof with
marked satisfaction, " I have never seen Zorzi," said he, " but
I know him well ; as for Loredano, I like him much ; he has
been at this court before, some time ago." He gave them a re
ception on the 12th of August, at Etampes, " not in a palace,"
says one of the senate's private correspondents, "but at the
Fountain inn. You will tell me that so great a king ought not
to put up at an inn ; but I shall answer you that in this district
of Etampes the best houses are as yet the inns. There is
certainly a royal castle, in the which lives the queen, the wife
of the deceased king ; nevertheless his Majesty was pleased to
give audience in this hostelry, all covered expressly with cloth
of Alexandrine velvet, with lilies of gold at the spot where the
king was placed. As soon as the speech was ended, his
Majesty rose up and gave quite a brotherly welcome to the
brilliant ambassadors. The king has a very good countenance,
a smiling countenance ; he is forty years of age and appears
very active in make. To-day, Monday, August 13, the am
bassadors were received at a private audience."

A treaty concluded on the 9th of February, 1499, and pub
lished as signed at Blois no earlier than the 15th of April fol
lowing was the result of this negotiation. It provided for an
alliance between the king of France and the Venetian govern
ment, for the purpose of making war in common upon the
duke of Milan, Ludovic Sforza, on and against every one, save
the lord pope of Rome, and for the purpose of insuring to the
Most Christian king restoration to the possession of the said
duchy of Milan as his rightful and olden patrimony. And on
account of the charges and expenses which would be incurred
by the Venetian government whilst rendering assistance to the
Most Christian king in the aforesaid war, the Most Christian
king bound himself to approve and consent that the city of
Cremona and certain forts or territories adjacent, specially in
dicated, should belong in freehold and perpetuity to the Vene
tian government. The treaty, at the same time, regulated the
the number of troops and the military details of the war on be
half of the two contracting powers, and it provided for divers
political incidents which might be entailed and to which the
alliance thus concluded should or should not be applicable
according to the special stipulations which were drawn up with
a view to those very incidents.

In the month of August, 1499, the French army, vith a

CH. xxvn.] LOUIS XII. (1498—1515). 423

strength of from twenty to five and twenty thousand men, of
whom five thousand were Swiss, invaded Milaness. Duke
Ludovic Sforza opposed to. it a force pretty nearly equal in
number, but far less full of confidence and of far less valor.
In less than three weeks the duchy was conquered ; in only
two cases was any assault necessary ; all the other places were
given up by traitors or surrendered without a show of resist
ance. The Venetians had the same success on the eastern
frontier of the duchy. Milan and Cremona alone remained
to be occupied. Ludovic Sforza "appeared before his troops
and his people like the very spirit of lethargy," says a con
temporary unpublished chronicle, "with his head bent down
to the earth, and for a long while he remained thus pen
sive and without a single word to say. Howbeit he was not so
discomfited but that on that very same day he could get his
luggage packed, his transport train under orders, his horses
shod, his ducats, with which he had more than thirty mules
laden, put by, and, in short, everything in readiness to decamp
next morning as early as possible." Just as as he left Milan,
he said to the Venetian ambassadors, " You have brought the
king of France to dinner with me ; I warn you that he will
come to supper with you."

"Unless necessity constrain him thereto," says Machiavelli
[treatise Du Prince, ch. xxi.J, "a prince ought never to form
alliance with one stronger than himself in order to attack
others, for, the most powerful being victor, thou remainest,
thyself, at his discretion, and princes ought to avoid, as much
as ever they can, being at another's discretion. The Venetians
allied themselves with France against the duke of Milan ; and
yet they might have avoided this alliance, which entailed their
ruin." For all his great and profound intellect, Machiavelli
was wrong about this event and the actors in it. The Vene
tians did not deserve his censure. By allying themselves, in
1499, with Louis XII. against the duke of Milan, they did not
fall into Louis' hands, for, between 1499 and 1515, and many
times over, they sided alternately with and against him,
always preserving their independence and displaying it as
suited them at the moment. And these vicissitudes in their
policy did not bring about their ruin, for at the death of Louis
XII. their power and importance in southern Europe had not
declined. It was Louis XII. who deserved Machiavelli's strict
ures for having engaged, by means of diplomatic alliances of
the most contradictory kind, at one time with the Venetians'

424 HISTORY OF FRANCE. fen. xxvu

support and at another against them, in a policy of distant and
incoherent conquests, without any connection with the national
interests of France and, in the long run, without any success.
Louis was at Lyons when he heard of his army's victory in
Milaness and of Ludovic Sforza's flight. He was eager to go
and take possession of his conquest, and, on the 6th of Octo
ber, 1499, he made his triumphal entry into Milan amidst cries
of "Hurrah! for France." He reduced the heavy imposts
established by the Sforzas, revoked the vexations game-laws,
instituted at Milan a court of justice analogous to the French
parliaments, loaded with favors the scholars and artists who
were the honor of Lombardy, and recrossed the Alps at the
end of some weeks, leaving as governor of Milaness John
James Trivulzio, the valiant Condottiere, who, four years be
fore, had quitted the service of Ferdinand II., king of Naples,
for that of Charles VIII. Unfortunately Trivulzio was him
self a Milanese and of the faction of the Guelphs. He had the
passions of a partisan and the habits of a man of war ; and he
soon became as tyrannical and as much detested in Milaness
as Ludovic the Moor had but lately been. A plot was formed
in favor of the fallen tyrant, who was in Germany expecting
it and was recruiting, during expectancy, amongst the Germans
and Swiss in order to take advantage of it. On the 25th of
January 1500, the insurrection broke out; and two months
later Ludovic Sforza had once more become master of Mila
ness, where the French possessed nothing but the castle of
Milan. In one of the fights brought about by this sudden
revolution the young Chevalier Bayard, carried away by the
impetuosity of his age and courage, pursued right into Milan
the foes he was driving before him without noticing that his
French comrades had left him ; and he was taken prisoner in
front of the very palace in which were the quarters of Ludovic
Sforza. The incident created some noise around the palace;
Ludovic asked what it meant, and was informed that a brave
and bold gentleman, younger than any of the others, had
entered Milan pell-mell with the combatants he was pursuing
and had been taken prisoner by John Bernardino Casaccio,
one of the leaders of the insurrection. Ludovic ordered him
to be brought up, which was done, though not without some
disquietude on the part of Bayard's captor, "a courteous
gentleman, who feared that Lord Ludovico might do him
some displeasure." He resolved himself to be his conductor,
after having dressed hi™ in one of his own robes and made

CH. xxvii. ] LOUIS XII. (1498—1515). 425

him look like a gentleman. " Marvelling to see Bayard so
young, 'Come hither, my gentleman,' said Ludovico: 'who
brought you into the city?7 * By my faith, my lord,' answered
Bayard, who was not a whit abashed, 'I never imagined I
was entering all alone and thought surely I was being followed
of my comrades, who knew more about war than I, for if they
had done as I did they would, like me, be prisoners. How-
beit, after my mishap, I laud the fortune which caused me to
fall into the hands of so valiant and discreet a knight as he
who has me in holding.' 'By your faith,' asked Ludovico,
'of how many is the army of the king of France?' 'On my
soul lord,' answered Bayard, ' so far as I can hear, there are
fourteen or fifteen hundred men-at-arms and sixteen or
eighteen thousand foot ; but they are all picked men who are
resolved to busy themselves so well this bout that they will
assure the State of Milan to the king our master ; and meseems,
my lord, that you will surely be in as great safety in Ger
many as you are here, for your folks are not the sort to fight
us.' With such assurance spoke the good knight that Lord
Ludovico took pleasure therein, though his say was enough to
astound him. ' On my faith, my gentleman, ' said he, as it
were in raillery, 'I have a good mind that the king of
France's army and mine should come together, in order that
by battle it may be known to whom of right belongs this
heritage, for I see no other way to it. ' ' By my sacred oath,
my lord,' said the good knight, ' I would that it might be to
morrow, provided that I were out of captivity. ' ' Verily, that
shall not stand in your way,' said Ludovico, 'for I will let
you forth and that presently. Moreover, ask of me what you
will, and I will give it you. ' The good knight who, on bended
knee, thanked Lord Ludovico for the offers he made him, as
there was good reason he should, then said to him, ' My lord,
I ask of you nothing save only that you may be pleased to
extend your courtesy so far as to get me back my horse and
my arms that I brought into this city and so send me away to
my garrison, which is twenty miles hence ; you would do me a
very great kindness for which I shall all my life feel bounden
to you; and, barring my duty to the king my master and
saving my honor, I would show my gratitude for it in what
soever it might please you to command me.' ' In good faith,'
said Lord Ludovico, ' you shall have presently that which you
do ask for. ' And then he said to the Lord John Bernardino,
' At once, sir captain, let his horse be found, his arms and all

426 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvn

that is his.1 'My lord,' it is right easy to find, it is all at my
quarters.' He sent forthwith two or three servants who
brought the arms and led up the horse of the good young
knight ; and Lord Ludovico had him armed before his eyes.
When he was accoutred, the young knight leapt upon his
horse without putting foot to stirrup; then he asked for a
lance which was handed to him, and, raising his eyes, he said
to Lord Ludovico, ' My lord, I thank you for the courtesy you
have done me ; please God to pay it back to you. He was in
a fine large court-yard; then he began to set spurs to his
horse, the which gave four or five jumps, so gaily that it could
not be better done ; then the young knight gave him a little
run, in the which he broke the lance against the ground into
five or six pieces ; whereat Lord Ludovico was not over pleased
and said out loud, " If all the men-at-arms of France were like
him yonder, I should have a bad chance.' Nevertheless he
had a trumpeter told off to conduct him to his garrison."
[Historic du bon Chevalier sans Peur et sans Reproche, t. i.
pp. 212—216.]

For Ludovic the Maoris chance to be bad it was not neces
sary that the men-at-arms of France should all be like Cheva
lier Bayard. Louis XII., so soon as he heard of the Milanese
insurrection, sent into Italy Louis de la Tremoille, the best of
his captains, and the cardinal d'Amboise, his privy councillor
and his friend, the former to command the royal troops,
French and Swiss, and the latter "for to treat about the
reconciliation of the rebel towns and to deal with everything
as if it were the king in his own person." The campaign did
not last long. The Swiss who had been recruited by Ludovic
and those who were in Louis XII's service had no mind to
fight one another; and the former capitulated, surrendered
the strong place of Novarra, and promised to evacuate the
country on condition of a safe-conduct for themselves and
their booty. Ludovic, in extreme anxiety for his own safety,
was on the point of giving himself up to the French; but
whether by his own free will or by the advice of the Swiss
who were but lately in his pay and who were now withdraw
ing, he concealed himself amongst them, putting on a dis-
guiee, " with his hair turned up under a coif, a collaret round
his neck, a doublet of crimson satin, scarlet hose, and a
halberd in his fist;" but, whether it were that he was betrayed
or that he was recognized, he, on the 10th of April, 1500, fell
into the hands of the French and was conducted to the

CH. xxvn.] LOUIS XII. (1498—1515). 427

quarters of La Tremoille, who said no more than, ' ' Welcome,
lord." Next day, April 11, Louis XII. received near Lyons
the news of this capture, "whereat he was right joyous and
had bonfires lighted together with devotional processions,
giving thanks to the Prince of princes for the happy victory
he had, by the divine aid, obtained over his enemies."
Ludovic was taken to Lyons. " At the entrance into the city
a great number of gentlemen from the king's household were
present to meet him ; and the provost of the household con
ducted him all along the high street to the castle of Pierre-
Encise, where he was lodged and placed in security." There
he passed a fortnight. Louis refused to see him, but had him
" questioned as to several matters by the lords of his grand
council; and, granted that he had committed nought but
follies, still he spoke right wisely." He was conducted from
Pierre-Encise to the castle of Loches in Touraine, where he
was at first kept in very strict captivity "without books,
paper, or ink," but it was afterwards less severe. " He plays
at tennis and at cards, " says a despatch of the Venetian am
bassador, Dominic of Treviso, " and he is fatter than ever."
[La Diplomatic Venitienne, by M. Armand Baschet (1862), p.
363.] He died in his prison at the end of eight years, having
to the very last great confidence in the future of his name, for
he wrote, they say, on the wall of his prison these words,
" Services rendered me will count for an heritage." And
"thus was the duchy of Milan, within seven months and a
half, twice conquered by the French," says John d'Auton in
his Chronique, "and for the nonce was ended the war in
Lombardy and the authors thereof were captives and exiles."

Whilst matters were thus going on in the north of Italy,
Louis XII. was preparing for his second great Italian venture,
the conquest of the kingdom of Naples, in which his predeces
sor Charles VIII. had failed. He thought to render the enter
prise easier by not bearing the whole burden by himself alone.
On the llth of November, 1500, he concluded at Grenada
"with Ferdinand and Isabella, king and queen of Castile and
Arragon," a treaty, by which the kings of France and Spain
divided, by anticipation, between them the kingdom of Naples,
which they were making an engagement to conquer together.
Terra di Lavoro and the province of the Abruzzi, with the
cities of Naples and Gaeta, were to be the share of Louis XII.,
who would assume the title of king of Naples and of Jerusa
lem; Calabria and Puglia (Apulia), with the title of duchiee^

428 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvn.

would belong to the king of Spain, to whom Louis XII., in
order to obtain this chance of an accessary and precarious
kingship, gave up entirely Rouissillon and Cerdagne, that
French frontier of the Pyrenees which Louis XI. had pur
chased a golden bargain from John II., king of Arragon. In
this arrangement there was a blemish and a danger of which
the superficial and reckless policy of Louis. 3TTTT made no
account ; he did not here, as he had done for the conquest of
Milaness, join himself to an ally of far inferior power to his
own and of ambition confined within far narrower boundaries,
as was the case when the Venetians supported him against
Ludovic Sforza: he was choosing for his comrade, in a far
greater enterprise, his nearest and most powerful rival and
the most dexterous rascal amongst the kings of his day.
"The king of France," said Ferdinand one day, "complains
that I have deceived him twice ; he lies, the drunkard; I have
deceived him more than ten times." Whether this bare-faced
language were or were not really used, it expressed nothing
but the truth: mediocre men who desire to remain pretty
nearly honest have always the worst of it and are always
dupes when they ally themselves with men who are corrupt
and at the same time able, indifferent to good and evil, to
justice and iniquity. Louis XII., even with the Cardinal
d'Amboise to advise him, was neither sufficiently judicious to
abstain from madly conceived enterprises nor sufficiently
scrupulous and clearsighted to unmask and play off every act
of perfidy and wickedness : by uniting himself, for the con
quest and partition of the kingdom of Naples, with Ferdinand
the Catholic, he was bringing upon himself first of all hidden op
position in the very midst of joint action and afterwards open
treason and defection. He forgot, moreover, that Ferdinand
had at the head of his armies a tried chieftain, Gonzalvo of
Cordova, already known throughout Europe as the great
captain, who had won that name in campaigns against the
Moors, the Turks, and the Portuguese, and who had the char
acter of being as free from scruple as from fear. Lastly the
supporters who, at the very commencement of his enterprises
in Italy, had been sought and gained by Louis XII., Pope
Alexander VI. and his son Caesar Borgia, were as little to be
depended upon in the future as they were compromising at
the present by reason of their reputation for unbridled am
bition, perfidy, and crime. The king of France, whatever
sacrifices he might already have made and might still make in

CH. xxvii. ] LOUIS XII. (1498—1515). 429

order to insure their co-operation, could no more count upon
it than upon the loyalty of the king of Spain in the conquest
they were entering upon together.

The outset of the campaign was attended with easy success.
The French army, under the command of Stuart d'Aubigny, a
valiant Scot, arrived on the 25th of June, 1501, before Eome,
and there received a communication in the form of a hull of the
pope which removed the crown of Naples from the head of
Frederick III. and partitioned that fief of the Holy See between
the kings of France and Spain. Fortified with this authority,
the army continued its march and arrived before Capua on the
6th of July. Gonzalvo of Cordova was already upon Neapoli
tan territory with a Spanish army which Ferdinand the Cath
olic had hastily sent thither at the request of Frederick III.
himself, who had counted upon the assistance of his cousin the
king of Arragoii against the French invasion. Great was his
consternation when he heard that the ambassadors of France
and Spain had proclaimed at Rome the alliance between their
masters. At the first rumor of this news, Gonzalvo of Cor
dova, whether sincerely or not, treated it as a calumny ; but,
so soon as its certainty was made public, he accepted it with
out hesitation, and took, equally with the French, the offensive
against the king already dethroned by the pope and very near
being so by the two sovereigns who had made alliance for the
purpose of sharing between them the spoil they should get from
him. Capua capitulated and was nevertheless plundered and
laid waste. A French fleet, commanded by Philip de Raven-
stein, arrived off Naples when d'Aubigny was already master
of it. The unhappy king Frederick took refuge in the island
of Ischia ; and, unable to bear the idea of seeking an asylum in
Spain with his cousin who had betrayed him so shamefully he
begged the French admiral himself to advise him in his advers
ity. " As enemies that have the advantage should show hu
manity to the afflicted," Ravenstein sent word to him, "he
would willingly advise him as to his affairs ; according to his
advice, the best thing would be to surrender and place himself
in the hands of the king of France and submit to his good
pleasure ; he would find him so wise and so debonnair and so
accommodating that he would be bound to be content. Better
or safer counsel for him he had not to give." After taking
some precautions on the score of his eldest son, Prince Ferdi
nand, whom he left at Tarento, in the kingdom he was about
to quit, Frederick III. followed Ravenstein's counsel, sent to

430 HISTORY OF FRANCS. [CH. xxvn.

ask for "a young gentleman to be his guide to France," put to
sea with five hundred men remaining to him and arrived at
Marseilles, whither Louis XII. sent some lords of his court to
receive him. Two months afterwards, and not before, he was
conducted to the king himself who was then at Blois. Louis
welcomed him with his natural kindness and secured to him
fifty thousand livres a year on the duchy of Anjou, on condi*
tion that he never left France. It does not appear that Fred
erick ever had an idea of doing so, for his name is completely
lost to history up to the day of his death, which took place at
Tours on the 9th of November, 1504, after three years' oblivion
and exile.

On hearing of so prompt a success, Louis XII. 's satisfaction
was great. He believed and many others, no doubt, believed
with him that his conquest of Naples, of that portion at least
which was assigned to him by his treaty with the king of Spain,
was accomplished. The senate of Venice sent to him, in De
cember, 1501, a solemn embassy to congratulate him. In giving
the senate an account of his mission, one of the ambassadors,
Dominic of Treviso, drew the following portrait of Louis XII. :
''The king is in stature tall and thin, and temperate in eating,
taking scarcely any thing but boiled beef; he is by nature
miserly and retentive; his great pleasure is hawking; from
September to April he hawks. The cardinal of Eouen [George
d'Amboise] does everything, nothing, however, without the
cognizance of the king, who has a far from stable mind, saying
yes and no. ... I am of opinion that their lordships should
remove every suspicion from his Majesty's mind and aim at
keeping themselves closely united with him." [Armand Bas-
chet, La Diplomatic Venitienne, p. 3G2.] It was not without
ground that the Venetian envoy gave his government this ad
vice. So soon as the treaty of alliance between Louis XII. and
the Venetians for the conquest of Milaness had attained its end,
the king had more than once felt and testified some displeasure
at the demeanor assumed towards him by his former allies.
They had shown vexation and disquietude at the extension of
French influence in Italy ; and they had addressed to Louis
certain representations touching the favor enjoyed at his hands
by the pope's nephew, Caesar Borgia, to whom he had given the
title of duke of Valentinois on investing him with the count-
ships of Valence and of Die in Dauphiny. Louis, on his side,
showed anxiety as to the conduct which would be exhibited
towards him by the Venetians if he encountered any embar-

«H. xrra.l LOUIS XII. (149&-1515). 431

rassment in his expedition to Naples. Nothing of the kind hap
pened to him during the first month after King Frederick Ill.'g
abandonment of the kingdom of Naples. The French and the
Spaniards, d'Aubigny and Gonzalvo of Cordova, at first gave
their attention to nothing but establishing themselves firmly,
each in the interests of the king his master, in those portions
of the kingdom which were to belong to them. But, before
long, disputes arose between the two generals as to the mean
ing of certain clauses in the treaty of November 11, 1500, and
as to the demarcation of the French and the Spanish terri
tories. D'Aubigny fell ill ; and Louis XII. sent to Naples, with
the title of viceroy, Louis d'Armagnac, duke of Nemours, a
brave warrior but a negotiator inclined to take umbrage and to
give offence. The disputes soon took the form of hostilities.
The French essayed to drive the Spaniards from the points
they had occupied in the disputed territories ; and at first they
had the advantage. Gonzalvo of Cordova, from necessity or
in prudence, concentrated his forces within Barletta, a little
fortress with a little port on the Adriatic ; but he there en
dured from July, 1502, to April, 1503, a siege which did great
honor to the patient firmness of the Spanish troops and the per
sistent vigor of their captain. Gonzalvo was getting ready to
sally from Barletta and take the offensive against the French
when he heard that a treaty signed at Lyons on the 5th of
April, 1503, between the kings of Spain and France made a
change in the position, reciprocally, of the two sovereigns and
must suspend the military operations of their generals within
the kingdom of Naples. "The French general declared his
readiness to obey his king," says Guicciardini ; "but the
Spanish, whether it were that he felt sure of victory or that
he had received private instructions on that point, said that
he could not stop the war without express orders from his
king." And sallying forthwith from Barletta he gained, on
the 28th of April, 1503, at Cerignola, a small town of Puglia, a
signal victory over the French commanded by the duke of Nei
mours, who together with three thousand men of his army was
killed in action. The very day after his success Gonzalvo
heard that a Spanish corps, lately disembarked in Calaona,
had also beaten, on the 21st of April, at Seminara, a French
corps commanded by d'Aubigny. The great captain was as
eager to profit by victory as he had been patient in waiting for
a chance of it. He marched rapidly on Naples and entered it,
on the 14th of May, almost without resistance ; and the fcwo forte

19 VOL. 3

432 HISTORY OF FRAME. [CH. XXYII.

defending the city, the Castel Nuovo and the Castel dell'Uove
surrendered, one on the llth of June and the other on the 1st
of July. The capital of the kingdom having thus fallen into
the hands of the Spaniards, Capua and Aversa followed its ex
ample. Gaeta was the only important place which still held out
for the French and contained a garrison capable of def ending it ;
and thither the remnant of the troops beaten at Seminara and
at Cerignola had retired. Louis XII. hasted to levy and send to
Italy, under the command of Louis de la Tr£moille, a fresh
army for the purpose of relieving Gaeta and recovering Naples
but at Parma La Tremoille fell ill, " so crushed by his malady
and so despairing of life," says his chronicler John Bouchet,
* ' that the physicians sent word to the king that it was impos
sible in the way of nature to recover him, and that without
the divine assistance he could not get well." The command
devolved upon the Marquis of Mantua, who marched on Gaeta.
He found Gonzalvo of Cordova posted with his army on the
left bank of the Garigliano, either to invest the place or to re
pulse reinforcements that might arrive for it. The two armies
passed fifty days face to face almost, with the river and its
marshes between them, and vainly attempting over and over
again to join battle. Some of Gonzalvo's officers advised him
to fall back on Capua so as to withdraw his troops from an
unhealthy and a difficult position; but "I would rather," said
he, "have here, for my grave, six feet of earth by pushing
forward, than prolong my life a hundred years by falling back
though it were but a few arms1 lengths." The French army
was dispersing about in search of shelter and provisions ; and
the marquis of Mantua, disgusted with the command, resigned
it to the marquis of Saluzzo and returned home to his mar-
quisate. Gonzalvo, who was kept well informed of his ene
mies' condition, threw, on the 27th of December, a bridge over
the Garigliano, attacked the French suddenly and forced them
to fall back upon Gaeta, which they did not succeed in enter
ing until they had lost artillery, baggage and a number of
prisoners. "The Spaniards," says John d'Auton, "halted
before the place, made as if they would lay siege to it and so
remained for two or three days. The French who were there
in great numbers had scarcely any provisions and could not
hold out for long; however they put a good face upon it. The
captain, Gonzalvo, sent word to them that if they would sur
render their town he would, on his part, restore to them with
out ransom all prisoners and others of their party, and he had

CH. xxvn.] LOUIS XII. (1498—1515). 433

many of them, James de la Palisse, Stuart d'Aubigny, Gaspard
de Coligny, Anthony de la Fayette, &c., all captains. The
French captains, seeing that fortune was not kind to them and
that they had provisions for a week only, were all for taking
this offer. All the prisoners, captains, men-at-arms and com
mon soldiers were accordingly given up, put to sea and sailed
for Genoa, where they were well received and kindly treated
by the Genoese, which did them great good, for they were
much in need of it. Nearly all the captains died on their re
turn, some of mourning over their losses, others of melancholy
at their disfortune, others for fear of the king's displeasure,
and others of sickness and weariness." [Chroniques of John
d'Auton, t. iii. pp. 68—70.]

Gaeta fell Into the hands of the Spaniards on the 1st of
January, 1504. The war was not ended, but the kingdom of
Naples was lost to the king of France.

At the news of these reverses the grief and irritation of Louis
XII. were extreme. Not only was he losing his Neapolitan
conquest but even his Milanese was also threatened. The ill-
will of the Venetians became manifest. They had re-vic
tualled by sea the fortress of Barletta, in which Gonzalvo of
Cordova had shut himself up with his troops; "and when the
king presented complaints of this succor afforded to his ene
mies, the senate replied that the matter had taken place with
out their cognizance, that Venice was a republic of traders,
and that private persons might very likely have sold provisions
to the Spaniards, with whom Venice was at peace, without
there being any ground for concluding from it that she had
failed in her engagements towards France. Some time after
wards, four French galleys chased by a Spanish squadron of
superior force, presented themselves before the port of Otranto
which was in the occupation of the Venetians, who pleaded
their neutrality as a reason for refusing asylum to the French
squadron, which the commander was obliged to set on fire that
it might not fall into the enemy's hands." [Histoire de la
R6puWique de Venise, by Count Dam, t. iii. p. 245.] The de
termined prosecution of hostilities in the kingdom of Naples
by Gonzalvo of Cordova, in spite of the treaty concluded at
Lyons on the 5th of April, 1503, between the kings of France
and Spain, was so much the more offensive to Louis XII. in
that this treaty was the consequence and the confirmation of
an enormous concession which he had, two years previously,
made to the king of Spain on consenting to affiance his daugh-

434 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. XXVIL

ter, Princess Claude of France, two years old, to Ferdinand's
grandson, Charles of Austria, who was then only one year old
and who became Charles the Fifth (emperor) ! Lastly, about
the same time, Pope Alexander VI. , who, willy nilly, had ren
dered Louis XII. so many services, died at Rome on the 12th
of August, 1503. Louis had hoped that his favorite minister,
Cardinal George d'Amboise, would succeed him, and that hope
had a great deal to do with the shocking favor he showed
Ceesar Borgia, that infamous son of a demoralized father. But
the Candidature of Cardinal d'Amboise failed ; a four week's
pope, Pius III., succeeded Alexander VI. ; and, when the Holy
See suddenly became once more vacant, Cardinal d'Amboise
failed again; and the new choice was Cardinal Julian della
Rovera, Pope Julius II. , who soon became the most determined
and most dangerous foe of Louis XII., already assailed by so
many enemies.

The Venetian, Dominic of Treviso, was quite right; Louis
XII. was "of unstable mind, saying yes and no." On such
characters discouragement tells rapidly. In order to put off
the struggle which had succeeded so ill for him in the kingdom
of Naples, Louis concluded on the 31st of March, 1504, a truce
for three years with the king of Spain ; and on the 22nd of Sep
tember, in the same year, in order to satisfy his grudge on ac
count of the Venetians' demeanor towards him, he made an
alliance against them with Emperor Maximilian I. and Pope
Julius II., with the design, all three of them, of wresting cer
tain provinces from them. With those political miscalcula
tions was connected a more personal and more disinterested
feeling. Louis repented of having in 1501 affianced his daugh
ter Claude to Prince Charles of Austria, and of the enormous
concessions he had made by two treaties, one of April 5, 1503,
and the other of September 22, 1504, for the sake of this mar
riage. He had assigned as dowry to his daughter, first the
duchy of Milan, then the kingdom of Naples, then Brittany,
and then the duchy of Burgundy and the countship of Blois.
The latter of these treaties contained even the following
strange clause : "If, by default of the Most Christian king or
of the queen his wife or of the Princess Claude, the aforesaid
marriage should not take place, the Most Christian king doth
will and consent, from now, that the said duchies of Burgandy
and Milan and the countship of Asti, do remain settled upon
the said Prince Charles, duke of Luxembourg, with all the
rights therein possessed or possibly to be possessed by the

CH. xxm] LOUIS XII. (1498-1516). 435

Most Christian king. " [Corps Diplomatique du Droit des Gens,
by J. Dumont, t. iv. part i. p. 57.] It was dismembering
France and at the same time settling on all her frontiers, to
east, to west, and south-west as well as to north and south, a
power which the approaching union of two crowns, the impe
rial and the Spanish, on the head of Prince Charles of Austria
rendered so preponderating and so formidable.

It was not only from considerations of external policy and
in order to conciliate to himself Emperor Maximilian and king
Ferdinand that Louis XII. had allowed himself to proceed to
concessions so plainly contrary to the greatest interests of
France : he had yielded also to domestic influences. The queen
his wife, Anne of Brittany, detested Louise of Savoy, widow
of Charles d'Orleans, count of Angouleme, and mother of
Francis d'Augouleme, heir presumptive to the throne, since
Louis XII. had no son. Anne could not bear the idea that her
daughter, Princess Claude, should marry the son of her per
sonal enemy; and, being more Breton than French, say her
contemporaries, she, in order to avoid this disagreeableness,
had used with the king all her influence, which was great, in
favor of the Austrian marriage, caring little and perhaps, even
desiring that Brittany should be again severed from France.
Louis, in the midst of the reverses of his diplomacy, had thus
to suffer from the hatreds of his wife, the observations of his
advisers, and the reproaches of his conscience as a king. He
fell so ill that he was supposed to be past recovery. "I were
to do what would be incredible," says his contemporary John
de St. Gelais, uto write or tell of the lamentations made
throughout the whole realm of France by reason of the sorrow
felt by all for the illness of their good king. There were to be seen
night and day, at Blois, at Amboise, at Tours, and everywhere
else, men and women going all bare throughout the churches
and to the holy places in order to obtain from divine mercy
grace of health and convalescence for one whom there was as
great fear of losing as if he had been the father of each. *
Louis was touched by this popular sympathy ; and his wisest
councillors, Cardinal d' Amboise the first of all, took advantage
thereof to appeal to his conscience in respect of the engage
ments which ' ' through weakness he had undertaken contrary
to the interests of the realm and the coronation-promises."
Queen Anne herself, not without a struggle, however, at last
gave up her opposition to this patriotic recoil ; and on the 10th
of May, 1505, Louis XII. put in his will a clause to the effect

436 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvrt

that his daughter, Princess Claude, should be married, so soon
as she was old enough, to the heir to the throne, Francis, count
of Angouleme. Only it was agreed, in order to avoid diplo
matic embarrassments, that this arrangement should be kept
secret till further notice. [The will itself of Louis XII. has
been inserted in the Recueil des Ordonnances des Eois des
France, t. xxi. p. 323, dated 30th of May, 1505.]

When Louis had recovered, discreet measures were taken
for arousing the feeling of the country as well as the king's
conscience as to this great question. "In the course of the
year 1505 there took place throughout the whole kingdom,
amongst the nobility and in the principal towns, assemblies at
which means were proposed for preventing this evil. Un
pleasant consequences might have been apprehended from
these meetings in the case of a prince less beloved by his sub
jects than the king was; but nothing further was decided
thereby than that a representation should with submission be
made to him of the dangers likely to result from this treaty,
that he should be entreated to prevent them by breaking it,
and that a proposal should be made to him to assemble the
estates to deliberate upon a subject so important." [Histoire
de France, by Le Pere Daniel, t. viii. p. 427, edit, of 1755].
The States-general were accordingly convoked and met at
Tours on the 10th of May, 1 506 ; and on the 14th of May Louis
XII. opened them in person "at Plessis-les-Tours, seated in a
great hall in the royal seat between Cardinal d'Amboise and
Duke Francis of Valois, and surrounded by many archbishops
and all the princes of the blood and other lords and barons of
the said realm in great number, and he gave the order for
admitting the deputies of the estates of the realm.

" Far from setting forth the grievances of the nation, as the
spokesman of the estates had always done, Thomas Bricot,
canon of Notre-Dame de Paris, delivered an address enumerat
ing in simple and touching terms the benefits conferred by
Louis XII., and describing to him the nation's gratitude. To
him they owed peace and the tranquillity of the realm, com
plete respect for private property, release from a quarter of
the talliages, reform in the administration of justice, and the
appointment of enlightened and incorruptible judges. For
these causes, the speaker added, and for others which it would
take too long to recount he was destined to be known as Louis
XII., father of the people.

"At these words loud cheers rang out; emotion was general

CH. xxvu.] LOUIS XII. (1498—1515). 437

and reached the king himself, who shed tears at hearing the
title which posterity and history were for ever to attach to
his name.

"Then, the deputies having dropped on their knees, the
speaker resumed his speech, saying that they were come to
prefer a request for the general good of the realm, the king's
subjects entreating him to be pleased to give his only daugh
ter in marriage to my lord Francis, here present, who is every
whit French.

"When this declaration was ended, the king called Cardi
nal d'Amboise and the chancellor, with whom he conferred for
some time ; and then the chancellor, turning to the deputies,
made answer that the king had given due ear and heed to
their request and representation .... that, if he had done
well, he desired to do still better; and that, as to the request
touching the marriage, he had never heard talk of it; but
that, as to that matter, he would communicate with the
princes of the blood, so as to have their opinion.

"The day after this session the king received an embassy
which could not but crown his joy: the estates of the duchy
of Burgundy, more interested than any other province in the
rupture of the (Austrian) marriage, had sent deputies to join
their most urgent prayers to the entreaties of the estates of
France.

"On Monday, May 18, the king assembled about him his
chief councillors, to learn if the demand of the estates was
profitable and reasonable for him and his kingdom. ' There
on,' continues the report, 'the first to deliver an opinion was
my lord the bishop of Paris ; after him the premier president
of the parliament of Paris and of that of Bordeaux.' Their
speeches produced such effect that ' quite with one voice and
one mind, those present agreed that the request of the estates
was sound, just and reasonable, and with one consent en
treated the king to agree to the said marriage.'

"The most enlightened councillors and the princes of the
blood found themselves in agreement with the commons.
There was no ambiguity about the reply. On the Tuesday,
May 19, the king held a session in state for the purpose of
announcing to the estates that their wishes should be fully
gratified and that the betrothal of his daughter to the heir to
the throne should take place next day but one, May 21, in
order that the deputies might report the news of it to their
constitueots.

438 HISTORY OP FRANCS, [CH. xrm

44 After that the estates had returned thanks, the chancellor
gave notice that, as municipal affairs imperatively demanded
the return of the deputies, the king gave them leave to go,
retaining only one burgess from each town to inform him of
their wants and 4 their business, if such there be in any case,
wherein the king will give them good and short despatch.'

"The session was brought to a close by the festivities of the
betrothal and by the oath taken by the deputies, who, before
their departure, swore to bring about 'with all their might,
even to the risk of body and goods, the marriage which had
just been decided upon by the common advice of all those who
represented France.'" [Histoire des Etats Gen&raux from
1355 to 1614, by George Picot, t. i. pp. 352—354].

Francis d'Angouleme was at that time eleven years old and
Claude of France was nearly seven.

Whatever displeasure must have been caused to the emperor
of Germany and to the king of Spain by this resolution on the
part of France and her king, it did not show itself either in
acts of hostility or even in complaints of a more or less threat
ening kind. Italy remained for some years longer the sole
theatre of rivalry and strife between these three great powers;
and, during this strife, the utter diversity of the combinations,
whether in the way of alliance or of rupture, bore witness to
the extreme changeability of the interests, passions, and de
signs of the actors. From 1506 to 1515, between Louis XII. ?s
will and his death, we find in the history of his career in Italy
five coalitions and as many great battles, of a profoundly con
tradictory character. In 1508, Pope Julius II., Louis XII.,
Emperor Maximilian, and Ferdinand the Catholic, king of
Spain, form together against the Venetians the League of
Cambrai. In 1510, Julius IL, Ferdinand, the Venetians, and
the Swiss make a coalition against Louis XII. In 1512, this
coalition, decomposed for a while, re-unites, under the name
of the League of the Holy Union, between the pope, the
Venetians, the Swiss, and the kings of Arragon and Naples
against Louis XII., minus the Emperor Maximilian and pluM
Henry VEIL, king of England. On the 14th of May, 1509,
Louis XII., in the name of the League of Cambrai, gains the
battle of Agnadello against the Venetians. On the llth of
April, 1512, it is against Pope Juluis II., Ferdinand the Catho
lic, and the Venetians that he gains the battle of Ravenna.
On the 14th of March, 1513, he is in alliance with the Vene»
tians, and it is against the Swiss that he loses the battle of

em. IXYH.] LOUIS XII. (1498—1518). 439

Novara. In 1510, 1511, and 1512, in the course of all these
incessant changes of political allies and adversaries, three
councils met at Tours, at Pisa, and at St. John Lateran with
views still more discordant and irreconcilable than those of all
these laic coali tions. We merely point out here the principal
traits of the nascent sixteenth century ; we have no intention
of tracing with a certain amount of detail any incidents but
those that refer to Louis XII. and to France, to their pro
cedure and their fortunes.

Jealousy, ambition, secret resentment, and the prospect of
despoiling them caused the formation of the League of Cam-
brai against the Venetians. Their far-reaching greatness on
the seas, their steady progress on land, their riches, their cool
assumption of independence towards the papacy, their renown
for ability, and their profoundly selfish but singularly pros
perous policy, had excited in Italy and even beyond the Alps
that feeling of envy and ill- will which is caused amongst men,
whether kings or people, by the spectacle of strange, brilliant,
and unexpected good fortune, though it be the fruits of rare
merit. As the Venetians were as much dreaded as they were
little beloved, great care was taken to conceal from them the
projects that were being formed against them. According to
their historian, Cardinal Bembo, they owed to chance the first
notice they had. It happened one day that a Piedmontese at
Milan, in presence of the Resident of Venice, allowed to escape
from his lips the words, "I should have the pleasure, then,
of seeing the crime punished of those who put to death the
most illustrious man of my country." He alluded to Carmag-
nola, a celebrated Piedmontese condottiere, who had been ac
cused of treason and beheaded at Venice on the 3rd of May,
1432, The Venetian ambassador at Louis XII. 's court, sus
pecting what had taken place at Cambrai, tried to dissuade
the king. "Sir," said he, "it were folly to attack them of
Venice; their wisdom renders them invincible." "I believe
they are prudent and wise," answered Louis, "but all the
wrong way of the hair (inopportunely); if it must come to
war, I will bring upon them so many fools that your wise
acres will not have leisure to teach them reason, for my fools
hit all round without looking where," When the league was
decisively formed, Louis sent to Venice a herald to officially
proclaim war0 After having replied to the grievances alleged
in support of that proclamation, "We should never have oe-
lieved," said the doge Loredano, "that so great a prince

440 HISTORY OP FRANCS. [OH. xxro

would have given ear to the envenomed words of a pope whom
he ought to know hetter and to the insinuations of another
priest whom we forbear to mention (Cardinal d'Amboise). In
order to please them, he declares himself the foe of a republic
which has rendered him great services. We will try to de
fend ourselves and to prove to him that he has not kept faith
with us. God shall judge betwixt us. Father herald, \ and
you, trumpeter, ye have heard what we had to say to you;
report it to your master. Away!" Independently of their
natural haughtiness, the Venetians were puffed up with the
advantages they had obtained in a separate campaign against
the Emperor Maximilian, and flattered themselves that they
would manage to conquer one after the other or to split up or
to tire out their enemies ; and they prepared energetically for
war. Louis XII., on his side, got together an army with a
strength of 2300 lances (about 13,000 mounted troops), 10,000
to 12,000 French foot and 6000 or 8000 Swiss. He sent for
Chevalier Bayard, already famous though still quite a youth.
" Bayard," said he, " you know that I am about to cross the
mountains for to bring to reason the Venetians, who by great
wrong withhold from me the countship of Cremona and other
districts, I give to you from this present time the company
of Captain Chatelard, who they tell me is dead, whereat I am
distressed ; but I desire that in this enterprise you have under
your charge men a-foot; your lieutenant-captain, Pierrepont
[Pierre de Pont d'Albi, a Savoyard gentleman and Bayard's
nephew], who is a very good man, shall lead your men-at-
arms." "Sir," answered Bayard, "I will do what pleaseth
you ; but how many men a-foot will you be pleased to hand
over to me to lead?" " A thousand," said the king? " there is
no man that hath more." "Sir," replied Bayard, "it is a
many for my poor wits ; I do entreat you to be content that I
have five hundred ; and I pledge you my faith, sir, that I wiU
take pains to choose such as shall do you service ; meseems
that for one man it is a very heavy charge if he would fain do
his duty therewith." "Good!" said the king: "go, then,
quickly into Dauphiny and take heed that you be in my duchy
of Milan by the end of March." Bayard forthwith set out to
raise and choose his foot : a proof of the growing importance
of infantry and of the care taken by Louis XIL to have it
commanded by men of war of experience and popularity.

On the 14th of May, 1509, the French army and the Venetian
army of nearly equal strength, encountered near the village of

CH.XXVU.] LOUIS XII (1498—1515). 441

Agaadello, in the province of Lodi, on the banks of the Adda.
Louis XII. commanded his in person, with Louis de la Tr6-
moille and James Trivulzio for his principal lieutenants ; the
Venetians were under the orders of two generals, the count of
Petigliano and Barthelemy d'Alviano, both members of the
Roman family of the Orsini, but not on good terms with one
another. The French had to cross the Adda to reach the
enemy, who kept in his camp. Trivulzio, seeing that the
Venetians did not dispute their passage, cried out to the king,
*5 To-day, sir, the victory is ours!" The French advance-
guard engaged with the troops of Alviano. When apprised of
this fight, Louis, to whom word was at this same time brought
that the enemy was already occupying the point towards
which he was moving with the main body of the army, said
briskly, "Forward, all the same; we will halt upon their
bellies." The action became general and hot. The king,
sword in hand, hurried from one corps to another, under fire
from the Venetian artillery which struck several men near
him. He was urged to place himself under cover a little so as
to give his orders thence, but " It is no odds," said he; " they
who are afraid have only to put themselves behind me." A
body of Gascons showed signs of wavering: "Lads," shouted
La Tremoille, "the king sees you." They dashed forward:
and the Venetians were broken in spite of the brave resist
ance of Alviano, who was taken and brought all covered with
blood and with one eye out in the presence of the king. Louis
said to him courteously, " You shall have fair treatment and
fair captivity; have fair patience." "So I will," answered
the condottiere ; " if I had won the battle, I had been the most
victorious man in the world ; and, though I have lost it, still
have I the great honor of having had against me a king of
France in person. " Louis, who had often heard talk of the
warrior's intrepid presence of mind, had a fancy for putting it
to further proof, and, all the time chatting with him, gave
secret orders to have the alarm sounded not far from them.
"What is this, pray, sir Barthelemy?" asked the king: "your
folks are very difficult to please ; is it that they want to begin
again?" "Sir," said Alviano, "if there is fighting stffi, it
must be that the French are fighting one another; ae for my
folks, I assure you, on my life, they will not pay you a visit
tfcis fortnight." The Venetian army, in fact, withdrew with a
precipitation which resembled a rout: for, to rally it, its gen
eral, the count of Petigliano, appointed for its gathering-point

442 BISTORT OF FRANCS. [o*f. xxvn.

the ground oeneath the walls of Brescia, forty miles $rom the
neld of battle. " Few men-at-arms," says Guicciardini, <( were
slain in this affair ; the great loss fell upon the Venetians' in
fantry, which lost, according to some, eight thousand men;
others say that the number of dead on both sides did not
amount to more than six thousand." The territorial results of
the victory were greater than the numerical losses of the
armies. Within a fortnight the towns of Caravaggio, Ber
gamo, Brescia, Crema, Cremona and Pizzighitone surrendered
to the French. Peschiera alone, a strong fortress at the
southern extremity of the Lake of Garda, resisted and was
carried by assault. "It was a bad thing for those within,"
says the Loyal Serviteur of Bayard; " for all or nearly all per
ished there; amongst the which was the governor of the
Signory and his son, who were willing to pay good and heavy
ransom ; but that served them not at all, for on one tree were
both of them hanged, which to me did seem great cruelty ; a
very lusty gentleman, called the Lorrainer, had their parole,
and he had big words about it with the grand master, lieuten
ant-general of the king; but he got no good thereby." The
Memoires of Robert de la Marck, lord of Fleuranges and a war
rior of the day, confirm, as to this sad incident, the story of
the Loyal Serviteur of Bayard: "When the French volun
teers," says he, "entered by the breach into the castle of
Peschiera, they cut to pieces all those who were therein, and
there were left only the captain, the proveditore, and the
podesta, the which stowed themselves away in a tower, sur
rendered to the good pleasure of the king, and bein^ brought
before him offered him for ransom a hundred thousand ducats;
but the king swore, * If ever I eat or drink till they be hanged
and strangled !' Nor even for all the prayer they could make
could the grand master de Chaumont and even his uncle, Car
dinal d'Amboise, find any help for it, but the king would have
them hanged that very hour." Some chroniclers attribute
this violence on Louis XII. 's part to a "low and coarse" reply
returned by those in command at Peschiera to the summons
to surrender. Guicciardini, whilst also recording the fact,
explains it otherwise than by a fit of anger on Louis's part:
"The king, "he says, "was led so such cruelty in order that,
dismayed at such punishment, those who were still holding out
in the fortress of Cremona might not defend themselves <*>
the last extremity." [Guicciardini, Istoria d? Italia, liv. viii. t.
i. p. 521. j So that the Italian historian is less severe on this
act of cruelty than the French knight is.

SB. xxvn.] £0tf7£ £7Z (1498-1515). 443

Louis XII. 's victory at Agnadello had for him consequences
very different from what he had no doubt expected. "The
king," says Guicciardini, " departed from Italy, carrying away
with him to France great glory by reason of so complete and
so rapidly won a victory over the Venetians; nevertheless,
as in the case of things obtained after hope long deferred men
scarcely ever feel such joy and happiness as they had at first
imagined they would, the king took not back with him either
greater peace of mind or greater security in respect of his
affairs." The beaten Venetians accepted their defeat with
such a mixture of humility and dignity as soon changed their
position in Italy. They began by providing all that was neces
sary for the defence of Venice herself; foreigners, but only idle
foreigners, were expelled ; those who had any business which
secured them means of existence received orders to continue
their labors. Mills were built, cisterns were dug, corn was
gathered in, the condition of the canals was examined, bars
were removed, the citizens were armed ; the law which did not
allow vessels laden with provisions to touch at Venice was
repealed ; and rewards were decreed to officers who had done
their duty, Having taken all this care for their own homes
and their fatherland on the sea, the Venetian senate passed a
decree by which the republic, releasing from their oath of
fidelity the subjects it could not defend, authorized its conti
nental provinces to treat with the enemy with a view to their
own interests and ordered its commandants to evacuate such
places as they still held. Nearly all such submitted without a
struggle to the victor of Agnadello and his allies of Cambrai;
but at Treviso, when Emperor Maximilian's commissioner pre
sented himself in order to take possession of it, a shoemaker
named Caligaro went running through the streets, shouting
" Hurrah ! for St. Mark !" The people rose, pillaged the houses
of those who had summoned the foreigner, and declared that it
would not separate its lot from that of the republic. So Treviso
remained Venetian. Two other small towns, Marano and Osopo,
followed her example ; and for several months this was all that
the Venetians preserved of their continental possessions. But
at the commencement of July, 1509, they heard that the im
portant town of Padua, which had fallen to the share of Em*
peror Maximilian, was uttering passionate murmurs against
its new master and wished for nothing better than to come
back beneath the old sway; and, in spite of the opposition
shown by the doge, Loredano, the Venetians resolved to at*

444 BISTORT OP FRANCE. [CH. xxnt

tempt the venture. During the night between the 16th and
17th of July, a small detachment well armed and well led ar
rived beneath the walls of Padua, which was rather carelessly
guarded. In the morning, as soon as the gate was opened, a
string of large waggons presented themselves for admittance.
Behind one of these and partially concealed by its bulk ad
vanced six Venetian men-at-arms, each carrying on his crupper
a foot-soldier armed with an arquebus ; they fired on the guard;
each killed his man; the Austrian garrison hurried up and
fought bravely; but other Venetian troops arrived, and the
garrison was beaten and surrendered. Padua became Venetian
again. " This surprisal," says M. Daru, " caused inexpressible
joy in Venice ; after so many disasters, there was seen a gleam
of hope." The Venetians hastened to provision Padua well and
to put it in a state of defence ; and they at the same time pub
lished a decree promising such subjects of the republic as
should come back to its sway complete indemnity for the losses
they might have suffered during the war. It blazed forth
again immediately, but at first between the Venetians and the
Emperor Maximilian almost alone by himself. Louis XII., in
a hurry to get back to France, contented himself with leaving
in Lombardy a body of troops under the orders of James de
Chabannes, sire de la Palisse, with orders "to take five hun
dred of the lustiest men-at-arms and go into the service of the
emperor, who was to make a descent upon the district of
Padua." Maximilian did not make his descent until two
months after the Venetians had retaken Padua and pro
visioned it well ; and it was only on the 15th of September that
he sat down before the place. All the allies of the League of
Cambrai held themselves bound to furnish him with their con
tingent. On sallying from Milan for this campaign, La Palisse
"•fell in with the good knight Bayard, to whom he said, 'My
comrade, my friend, would you not like us to be comrades to
gether?' Bayard, who asked nothing better, answered him
graciously that he was at his service to be disposed of at his
pleasure ;" and from the 15th to the 20th of September, Maxi
milian got together before Padua an army with a strength, it is
said, of about 50,000 men, men-at-arms or infantry, Germans,
Spaniards, French, and Italians sent by the pope and by the
duke of Ferrara or recruited from all parts of Italy.

At the first rumor of such a force there was great emotion in
Venice, but an emotion tempered by bravery and intelligence.
The doge, Leonardo Loredano, the same who had but lately

CH. xxni.] LOUIS XII. (149&-1515.) 445

opposed the surprisal of Padua, rose up and delivered in the
senate a long speech of which only the essential and character
istic points can be quoted here :—

"Everybody knows, excellent gentlemen of the senate," said
he, "that on the preservation of Padua depends all hope not
only of recovering our empire but of maintaining our own
liberty. It must be confessed that great and wonderful as
they have been the preparations made and the supplies pro
vided hitherto are not sufficient either for the security of that
town or for the dignity of our republic. Our ancient renown
forbids us to leave the public safety, the lives and honor of our
wives and our children, entirely to the tillers of our fields and
to mercenary soldiers without rushing ourselves to shelter
them behind our own breasts and defend them with our own
arms. For so great and so glorious a fatherland, which has for
so many years been the bulwark of the faith and the glory of
the Christian republic, will the personal service of its citizens
and its sons be ever to seek? To save it who would refuse to
risk his own life and that of his children? If the defence of
Padua is the pledge for the salvation of Venice, who would hesi
tate to go and defend it? And, though the forces already there
were sufficient, is not our honor also concerned therein? The
fortune of our city so willed it that in the space of a few days
our empire slipped from our hands ; the opportunity has come
back to us of recovering what we have lost ; by spontaneously
facing the changes and chances of fate we shall prove that our
disasters have not been our fault or our shame, but one of
those fatal storms which no wisdom and no firmness of man
can resist. If it were permitted us all in one mass to set out
for Padua, if we might, without neglecting the defence of our
own homes and our urgent public affairs, leave our city for
some days deserted, I would not await your deliberation; I
would be the first on the road to Padua ; for how could I better
expend the last days of my old age than in going to be present
at and take part in such a victory? But Venice may not be
deserted by her public bodies which protect and defend Padua
by their forethought and their orders just as others do by their
arms; and a useless mob of grey-beards would be a burden
much more than a reinforcement there. Nor do I ask that
Venice be drained of all her youth ; but I advise, I exhort, that
we choose two hundred young gentlemen, from the chief est of
our families, and that they all, with such friends and following
aa their means will permit them to get together, go forth to

446 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvn.

Padua to do all that shall be necessary for her defence. My
two sons, with many a comrade, will be the first to carry out
what I, their father and your chief, am the first to propose.
Thus Padua will be placed in security; and, when the mer
cenary soldiers who are there see how prompt are our youth to
guard the gates and everywhere face the battle, they will be
moved thereby to zeal and alacrity incalculable ; and not only
will Padua thus be defended and saved, but ail nations will see
that we, we too, as our fathers were, are men enough to defend
at the peril of our lives the freedom and the safety of the
noblest country in the world."

This generous advice was accepted by the fathers and carried
out by the sons with that earnest, prompt, and effective ardor
which accompanies the resolution of great souls. When the
Paduans, before their city was as yet invested, saw the arrival
within their walls of these chosen youths of the Venetian
patriciate, with their numerous troop of friends and followers,
they considered Padua as good as saved ; and when the im
perial army, posted before the place, commenced their attacks
upon it they soon perceived that they had formidable defenders
to deal with. "Five hundred years it was since in prince's
camp had ever been seen such wealth as there was there ; and
never was a day but there filed off some three or four hundred
lanzknechts who took away to Germany oxen and kine, beds,
corn, silk for sewing, and other articles ; in such sort that to
the said country of Padua was damage done to the amount of
two millions of crowns in movables and in houses and palaces
burnt and destroyed. " For three days the imperial artillery
fired upon the town and made in its walls three breaches
" knocked into one;" and still the defenders kept up their re
sistance with the same vigor. " One morning," says the Loyal
Serviteur of Bayard, " the Emperor Maximilian, accompanied
by his princes and lords from Germany, went thither to look;
and he marvelled and thought it great shame to him, with the
number of men he had, that he had not sooner delivered the
assault. On returning to his quarters he sent for a French
secretary of his, whom he bade write to the lord of la Palisse 9
letter whereof this was the substance; "Dear cousin, I have
this morning been to look at the breach, which I find more
than practicable for whoever would do his duty. I have made
up my mind to deliver the assault to-day. I pray you, so soon
as my big drum sounds, which will be about mid-day, that you
do incontinently hold ready all the French gentlemen who are

OH xxvn.] LOUIS XIX. (1498—1516). 447

under your orders at my service by command of my brother
the king of France, to go to the said assault along with my
foot; and I hope that, with God's help, we shall carry it."

"The lord of la Palisse," continues the chronicler, "thought
this a somewhat strange manner of proceeding; howbeit he hid
his thought and said to the secretary : ' I am astounded that
the emperor did not send for my comrades and me for to de
liberate more fully of this matter; howbeit you will tell him
that I will send to fetch them and when they are come I will
show them the letter. I do not think there will be many who
will not be obedient to that which the emperor shall be pleased
to command.'

"When the French captains had arrived at the quarters of
the lord of la Palisse, he said to them, ' Gentlemen, we must
now dine, for I have somewhat to say to you and, if I were to
say it first, perad venture you would not make good cheer.'
During dinner they did nothing but make sport one of another.
After dinner, everybody was sent out of the room, save the
captains, to whom the lord of la Palisse made known the em
peror's letter, which was read twice for the better understand
ing of it. They all looked at one another, laughing, for to see
who would speak first. Then said the lord of Ymbercourt to
the lord of la Palisse, ' It needs not so much thought, my lord ;
send word to the emperor that we are all ready ; I am even
now a- weary of the fields, for the nights are cold ; and then
the good wines are beginning to fail us ;' whereat every one
burst out a-laughing. All agreed to what was said by the lord
of Ymbercourt. The lord of la Palisse looked at the good
knight (Bayard) and saw that he seemed to be picking his
teeth as if he had not heard what his comrades had proposed.
'Well, and you,' said he, 'what say you about it? It is no
time for picking one's teeth; we must at once send speedy
reply to the emperor.' Gaily the good knight answered, 'If
we would all take my lord of Ymbercourt 's word, we have
only to go straight to the breach. But it is a somewhat sorry
pastime for men-at-arms to go a-f oot, and I would gladly be
excused. Howbeit, since I must give my opinion, I will. The
emperor bids you in his letter set all the French gentlemen a-
f oot for to deliver the assault along with his lanzknechts. My
opinion is that you, my lord, ought to send back to the em
peror a reply of this sort : that you have had a meeting of your
captains who are quite determined to do his bidding, according
to the charge they have from the king their master; but that

448 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH. xxm

to mix them up with the foot who are of small estate would be
to make them of little account ; the emperor has loads of counts,
lords and gentlemen of Germany; let him set them a-foot along
with the men-at-arms of France who will gladly show them the
road ; and then his lanzknechts will follow, if they know that
it will pay.' When the good knight had thus spoken, his ad
vice was found virtuous and reasonable. To the emperor was
sent back this answer, which he thought right honorable. He
incontinently had his trumpets sounded and his drums beaten
for to assemble all the princes and lords and captains as well
of Germany and Burgundy as of Hainault. Then the emperor
declared to them that he was determimed to go, within an
hour, and deliver the assault on the town, whereof he had
notified the lords of France who were all most desirous of
doing their duty therein right well, and prayed him that along
with them might go the gentlemen of Germany to whom they
would gladly show the road: 'Wherefore, my lords,' said the
emperor, < I pray you, as much as ever I can, to be pleased to
accompany them and set yourselves afoot with them; and I
hope, with God's help, that at the first assault we shall be
masters of our enemies.' When the emperor had done speak
ing, on a sudden there arose among his Germans a very won
drous and strange uproar which lasted half an hour before it
was appeased ; and then one amongst them, bidden to answer
for all, said that they were not folks to be set afoot or so to go
up to a breach, and that their condition was to fight like gentle
men, a-horseback. Other answer the emperor could not get;
but though it was not according to his desire and pleased him
not at all, he uttered no word, beyond that he said, ' Good, my
lords; we must advise, then, how we shall do for the best/
Then, forthwith, he sent for a gentleman of his who from time
to time went backwards and forwards as ambassador to the
French, and said to him, * Go to the quarters of my cousin the
lord of la Palisse ; commend me to him and to all my lords
the French captains you find with him, and tell them that for
to-day the assault will not be delivered.' I know not, "says
the chronicler, "how it was nor who gave the advice; but the
night after this speech was spoken the emperor went off all in
one stretch more than forty miles from the camp, and from his
new quarters sent word to his people to have the siege raised;
which was done."

So Padua was saved and Venice once more became a Power.
Louis XII., having returned victorious to France, did not

CH. xxvn.] LOUIS XH, /i 498— 1515) 449

trouble himself much about the check received in Italy by
Emperor Maximilian for whom he had no love and but little
esteem. Maximilian was personally brave and free from de
pravity or premeditated perfidy, but he was coarse, volatile,
inconsistent and not very able. Louis XTL had amongst his
allies of Cambrai and in Italy a more serious and more skilful
foe who was preparing for him much greater embarrassments.
Julian della Rovera had, before his elevation to the pontifical
throne, but one object, which was, to mount it. When he be
came pope, he had three objects: to recover and extend the
temporal possessions of the papacy, to exercise to the full his
spiritual power, and to drive the foreigner from Italy, He
was not incapable of doubling and artifice. In o rder to rise
he had flattered Louis XII. and Cardinal d'Amboise with the
hope that the king's minister would become the Head of
Chritendom. When once he was himself in possession of this
puissant title he showed himself as he really was j ambitious,
audacious, imperious, energetic, stubborn, and combining the
egotism of the absolute sovereign with the patriotism of an
Italian pope. When the League of Cambrai had attained suc
cess through the the victory of Louis XII. over the Venetians,
Cardinal d'Amboise, in conrse of conversation with the two
envoys from Florence at the king's court, let them have an
inkling "that he was not without suspicion of some new
design;" and when Louis XII. announced his approaching
departure for France, the two Florentines wrote to their
government that ' ' this departure might have very evil results
for the power of Emperor Maximilian in Italy, the position of
Ferdinand the Catholic, the despair of the Venetians and the
character and dissatisfaction of the pope, seemed to foreshadow
some fresh understanding against the Most Christian king."
Louis XII. and his minister were very confident. "Take
Spain, the king of the Romans, or whom you please," said
Cardinal d'Amboise to the two Florentines; "there is none
who has observed and kept the alliance more faithfully than
the king has; he has done everything at the moment he
promised; he has borne upon his shoulders the whole weight
of this affair; and I tell you," he added, with a fixed look at
those whom he was addressing, " that his army is a large one,
which he will keep up and augment every day." Louis, for
his part, treated the Florentines with great goodwill as friends
on whom he counted and who were concerned in his success.
44 You have become the first power in Italy," he said to them

450 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH.

one day before a crowd of people: uhow are you addressed
just now? Are you Most Serene or Most Illustrious*" And
when he was notified that distinguished Venetians were going
to meet Emperor Maximilian on his arrival in Italy, "No
matter," said Louis; "let them go whither they will." The
Florentines did not the less nourish their mistrustful presenti
ments; and one of Louis XII. 's most intelligent advisers, his
finance-minister Florimond Robertet, was not slow to share
them. "The pope," said he to them one day [July 1, 1509],
"is behaving very ill towards us; he seeks on every occasion
to sow enmity between the princes, especially between the em
peror and the Most Christian king;" and, some weeks later,
whilst speaking of the money-aids which the new king of Eng
land was sending, it was said, to emperor Maximilian, he said
to the Florentine, Nasi, ' ' It would be a very serious business,
if from all this were to result against us a universal league, in
which the pope, England, and Spain should join" [Negotiations
Diplomatiques de la France avec la Toscane, published by M.
Abel Desjardins, in the Documents relatifs a VHistoire de
France, t. ii. pp. 331, 355, 367, 384, 389, 416].

Next year (1510) the mistrust of the Florentine envoys was
justified. The Venetians sent an humble address to the pope,
ceded to him the places they but lately possessed in the Ro-
magna, and conjured him to relieve them from the excommu
nication he had pronounced against them. Julius II., after
some Little waiting, accorded the favor demanded of him.
Louis XII. committed the mistake of embroiling himself with
the Swiss by refusing to add 20,000 livres to the pay of 60,000
he was giving them already, and by styling them "wretched
mountain -shepherds who presumed to impose upon him a tax
he was not disposed to submit to." The pope conferred the in
vestiture of the kingdom of Naples upon Ferdinand the Cath
olic, who at first promised only his neutrality but could not fail
to be drawn in still further when war was rekindled it Italy.
In all these negotiations with the Venetians, the Swiss, the
kings of Spain and England and the Emperor Maximilian,
Julius II. took a bold initiative. Maximilian alone remained
for some time at peace with the king of France. In October,
1511, a league was formally concluded between the pope, the
Venetians, the Swiss and King Ferdinand against Louis XII.
A place was reserved in it for the king of England, Henry
VIII., who on ascending the throne, had sent word to the king
of France that " he desired to abide in the same friendship that

CH. xxvii. ] LOUIS XII. (1498-1515). 451

the king his father had kept up," but who, at the bottom of his
heart, burned to resume on the Continent an active and a
prominent part. The coalition thus formed was called the
League of Holy Union. "I," said Louis XII., "am the Saracen
against whom this league is directed."

He had just lost, a few months previously, the intimate and
faithful adviser and friend of his whole life : Cardinal George
d'Amboise, seized at Milan with a fit of the gout during which
Louis tended him with the assiduity and care of an affectionate
brother, died at Lyons on the 25th of May, 1510, at fifty years
of age. He was one not of the greatest but of the most honest
ministers who ever enjoyed a powerful monarch's constant
favor and employed it we will not say with complete disinter
estedness but with a predominant anxiety for the public weal.
In the matter of external policy the influence of Cardinal
d'Ambroise was neither skillfully nor salutarily exercised : he,
like his master, indulged in those views of distant, incoherent
and improvident conquests which caused the reign of Louis
XII. to be washed in ceaseless wars, with which the Cardinal's
desire of becoming pope was not altogether unconnected and
which, after having resulted in nothing but reverses, were a
heavy heritage for the succeeding reign. But at home, in his
relations with his king and in his civil and religious adminis
tration, Cardinal d'Ambroise was an earnest and effective
friend of justice, of sound social order, and of regard for mor
ality in the practice of power. It is said that, in his latter
days, he, virtuously weary of the dignities of this world, said
to the infirmary brother was attending him, "Ah! Brother
John, why did I not always remain Brother John !" A pious
regret the sincerity and modesty whereof are rare amongst
men of high estate.

" At last, then, I am the only pope!" cried Julius EL, when
he heard that Cardinal d'Ambroise was dead. But his joy was
misplaced: the Cardinal's death was a great loss to him; be
tween the king and the pope the cardinal had been an intelli
gent mediator who understood the two positions and the two
characters and who, though most faithful and devoted to the
king, had nevertheless a place in his heart for the papacy also
and labored earnestly on every occasion to bring about between
the two rivals a policy of moderation and peace. " One thing
you may be certain of, "said Louis' finance-minister Robertet to
the ambassador from Florence, " that the king's character is not
an easy one to deal with ; he is not readily brought round to

462 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [OH. XXTO

to what is not his own opinion, which is not always a correct
one; he is irritated against the pope; and the cardinal, to
whom that causes great displeasure, does not always succeed,
in spite of all his influence, in getting him to do as he would
like. If our Lord God were to remove the cardinal, either by
death or in any other manner, from public life there would
arise in this court and in the fashion of conducting affairs such
confusion that nothing equal to it would ever have been seen
in our day. [Negotiations Diplomatique de la France avec la
Toscane, t. ii. pp. 428 and 460.] And the confusion did, in fact,
arise; and war was rekindled or, to speak more correctly,
resumed its course after the cardinal's death. Julius II.
plunged into it in person, moving to every point where it was
going on, living in the midst of camps, himself in military cos
tume, besieging towns, having his guns pointed and assaults
delivered under his own eyes. Men expressed astonishment,
not unmixed with admiration, at the indomitable energy of
this soldier-pope at seventy years of age. It was said that he
had cast into the Tiber the keys of St. Peter to gird on the
sword of St. Paul. His answer to everything was, " The bar
barians must be driven from Italy." Louis XII. became more
and more irritated and undecided. "To reassure his people,"
says Bossuet (to which we may add, "and to reassure him
self"), "he assembled at Tours (in Sept. 1510) the prelates of
his kingdom, to consult them1 as to what he could do at so dis
agreeable a crisis without wounding his conscience. There
upon it was said that the pope, being unjustly the aggressor
and having even violated an agreement made with the king,
ought to be treated as an enemy, and that the king might not
only defend himself, but might even attack him without fear
of excommunication. Not considering this quite strong enough
yet, Louis resolved to assemble a council against the pope.
The general council was the desire of the whole church since
the election of Martin Y. at the council of Constance (Nov. 11,
1417) ; for, though that council'had done great good by putting
an end to the schism which had lasted for forty years, it had
not accomplished what it had projected, which was a reforma
tion of the Church in its Head and in its members; but, for the
doing of so holy a work, it had ordained, on separating, that
there should be held a fresh council. . . . This one was opened
at Pisa (Nov. 1, 1511) with but little solemnity by the proxies
of the cardinals who had caused its convocation. The pope
had deposed them and had placed under interdict the town of

CH. xxvn.] LOUIS XII. (1498-1515). 453

Pisa, where the council was to be held, and even Florence, be
cause the Florentines had granted Pisa for the assemblage.
Thereupon the religious brotherhoods were unwilling to put in
an appearance at the opening of the council, and the priests of
the church refused the necessary paraphernalia. The people
rose, and the cardinals, having arrived, did not consider their
position safe; insomuch that after the first session they re
moved the council to Milan, where they met with no better
reception. Gaston de Foix, nephew of Louis XII. who had
just appointed him governor of Milaness, could certainly force
the clergy to proceed and the people to be quiet, but he could
not force them to have for the council the respect due to so
great a name ; there were not seen at it, according to usage,
the legates of the Holy See ; there were scarcely fifteen or six
teen French prelates there; the Emperor Maximilian had
either not influence enough or no inclination to send to it a
single one from Germany; and, in a word, there was not to be
seen in this assembly anything that savored of the majesty of
a general council, and it was understood to be held for political
purposes." [Bossuet, Abrege de V Histoire de France pour
V Education du Dauphin; CEuvres completes (1828), t. xvii. pp,
541, 545.] Bossuet had good grounds for speaking so. Louis
XII. himself said, in 1511, to the ambassador of Spain that
" this pretended council was only a scare-crow which he had
no idea of employing save for the purpose of bringing the pope
to reason." Amidst these vain attempts at ecclesiastical in
fluence the wars was continued with passionateness on the
part of Julius II., with hesitation on the part of Louis XII. ,
and with some disquietude on the part of the French com
manders, although with their wonted bravery and loyalty.
Chaumont d'Amboise, the cardinal's nephew, held the com-
mand-in-chief in the king's army. He fell ill; the pope had
excommunicated him ; and Chaumont sent to beg him, with
instance, to give him him absolution, which did not arrive
until he was on his death-bed. " This is the worst," says
Bossuet, "of wars against the Church; they cause scruples
not only in weak minds but even, at certain moments, in the
very strongest." Alphonso d'Este, duke of Ferrara, was almost
the only great Italian lord who remained faithful to France.
Julius IIM who was besieging Ferrara, tried to win over the
duke, who rejected all his offers and, instead, won over the ne
gotiator, who offered his services to poison the pope. Bayard,
when informed of this proposal, indignantly declared that

454 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvn.

he would go and have the traitor hanged and warning sent to
the pope. " Why," said the duke, " he would have been very
glad to do as much for you and me." ' * That is no odds to me,n
said the knight; " he is God's lieutenant on earth, and, as for
having him put to death in such sort, I will never consent to
it." The duke shrugged his shoulders and spitting on the
ground, said, " Od's body, sir Bayard, I would like to get rid
of all my enemies in that way; but, since you do not think it
well, the matter shall stand over; whereof, unless God apply a
remedy, both you and I will repent us." Assuredly Bayard
did not repent of his honest indignation ; but, finding the same
time (January, 1511) an opportunity of surprising and carry
ing off the pope, he did not care to miss it; he placed himself
in ambush before daybreak with a hundred picked men-at-
arms close to a village from which the pope was to issue.
" The pope, who was pretty early, mounted his litter, so soon
as he saw the dawn, and the clerics and officers of all kinds
went before without a thought of anything. When the good
knight heard them he sallied forth from his ambush and went
charging down upon the rustics who, sore dismayed, turned
back again, pricking along with lessened rein and shouting,
Alarm! alarm! But all that would have been of no use but for
an accident very lucky for the holy father and very unfortunate
for the good knight. When the pope had mounted his litter,
he was not a stone's throw gone when there fell from heaven
the most sharp and violent shower that had been seen for a
hundred years. * Holy father,' said the cardinal of Pavia to
the pope, * it is not possible to go along this country so long as
this lasts ; meseems you must turn back again ;' to which the
pope agreed ; but, just as he was arriving at St. Felix and was
barely entering within the castle, he heard the shouts of the
fugitives whom the good knight was pursuing as hard as he
could spur ; whereupon he had such a fright that suddenly and
without help he leapt out of his litter, and himself did aid in
hauling up the bridge ; which was doing like a man of wits, for
had he waited until one could say a Pater noster, he had been
snapped up. Who was right down grieved, that was the good
knight; never man turned back so melancholic as he was to
have missed so fair a take ; and the pope, from the good fright
he had gotten, shook like a palsy the live-long day." [Histoire
du bon Chevalier Bayard, t. i. pp. 346—349.]

From 1510 to 1512 the war in Italy was thus proceeding, but
with no great results, when Gaston de Foix, duke of Nemourg,

CH. xxvn.] LOUIS XII. (1498—1515). 455

came to take the command of the French army. He was
scarcely twenty-three and had hitherto only served under
Trivulzio and la Palisse ; but he had already a character for
bravery and intelligence in war. Louis XII. loved this son of
his sister, Mary of Orleans, and gladly elevated him to the
highest rank. Gaston, from the very first, justified his favor.
Instead of seeking for glory in the field only, he began by shut*
ting himself up in Milan which the Swiss were besieging.
They made him an offer to take the road back to Switzerland,
if he would give them a mbnth's pay ; the sum was discussed ;
Gaston considered that they asked too much for their with
drawal ; the Swiss broke off the negotiation; but " to the great
astonishment of everybody," says Guicciardini, "they raised
the siege and returned to their own country." The pope was
besieging Bologna ; Gaston arrived there suddenly with a body
of troops whom he had marched out at night through a tem
pest of wind and snow ; and he was safe inside the place whilst
the besiegers were still ignorant of his movement. The siege
of Bologna was raised. Gaston left it immediately to march
on Brescia, which the Venetians had taken possession of for
the Holy League. He retook the town by a vigorous assault,
gave it up to pillage, punished with death Count Louis Avo-
garo and his two sons who had excited the inhabitants against
France, and gave a beating to the Venetian army before its
walls. All these successes had been gained in a fortnight.
" According to universal opinion," says Guicciardini, " Italy
for several centuries had seen nothing like these military
operations."

We are not proof against the pleasure of giving a place in
this history to a deed of virtue and chivalrous kindness on
Bayard's part, the story of which has been told and retold
many times in various works. It is honorable to human kind
and especially to the middle ages that such men and such deeds
are met with here and there amidst the violence of war and
the general barbarity of manners.

Bayard had been grievously wounded at the assault of
Brescia; so grievously that he said to his neighbor the lord of
Molart, " 'Comrade, march your men forward; the town is
ours ; as for me, I cannot pull on farther, for I am a dead man.'
When the town was taken, two of his archers bare him to a
house, the most conspicuous they saw thereabouts. It was the
abode of a very rich gentleman; but he had fled away to a
monastery, and his wife had remained at the abode under the

20 VOL. »

456 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [en. xxvn,

care of Our Lord, together with two fair daughters she had,
the which were hidden in a granary beneath some hay. When
there came a knocking at her door, she saw the good knight
who was being brought in thus wounded, the which had the
door shut incontinently and set at the entrance the two
archers, to which he said, 'Take heed, for your lives, that
none enter herein unless it be any of my own folk ; I am certi
fied that, when it is known to be my quarters, none will try
to force a way in ; and if, by your aiding me, I be the cause
that ye lose a chance of gaining somewhat, never ye mind ; ye
shall lose naught thereby.*

" The archers did as they were bid, and he was borne into a
mighty fine chamber into which the lady of the house herself
conducted him ; and, throwing herself upon her knees before
him, she spake after this fashion, being interpreted, ' Noble
sir, I present unto you this house and all that is therein, for well
I know it is yours by right of war ; but may it be your pleasure
to spare me my honor and life and those of two young daugh
ters that I and my husband have, who are ready for mar
riage.' The good knight, who never thought wickedness, re
plied to her, * Madam, I know not whether I can escape from
the wound that I have ; but, so long as I live, to you and your
daughters shall be done no displeasure, any more than to my
own person. Only keep them in your chambers ; let them not
be seen ; and I assure you that there is no man in the house
who would take upon himself to enter any place against your
will.'

"When the good lady heard him so virtuously speak, she
was all assured. Afterwards he prayed her to give instruc
tions to some good surgeon who might quickly come to tend
him ; which she did, and herself went in quest of him with one
of the archers. He having arrived did probe the good knight's
wound which was great and deep ; howbeit he certified him
that there was no danger of death. At the second dressing
came to see him the duke of Nemours' surgeon, called Master
Claude, the which did thenceforward have the healing of him ;
and right well he did his devoir, in such sort that in less than
a month he was ready to mount a-horseback. The good knight
when he was dressed, asked his hostess where her husband was ;
and the good lady, all in tears, said to him, ' By my faith, my
lord, I know not whether he be dead or alive; but I have a
shrewd idea that, if he be living, he will be in a large mon
astery where he hath large acquaintance.' 'Lady,* said th«

CH. xxvii.] LOUIS XII. (1498—1515). 457

good knight, * have him fetched ; and I will send in quest of
him in such sort that he shall have no harm." She set herself
to inquire where he was, and found him ; then were sent in
quest of him the good knight's steward and two archers,
who brought him away in safety; and on arrival he had
joyous cheer (reception; from his guest the good knight, the
which did tell him not to be melancholic, and that there was
quartered upon him none but friends. . . . For about a month
or five weeks was the good knight ill of his wound, without
leaving his couch. One day he was minded to get up and he
walked across his chamber, not being sure whether he could
keep his legs; somewhat weak he found himself; but the great
heart he had gave him not leisure to think long thereon. He
sent to fetch the surgeon who had the healing of him, and said
to him, ' My friend, tell me, I pray you, if there be any danger
in setting me on the march ; meseems that I am well, or all
but so ; and I give you my faith that, in my judgment, the
biding will henceforth harm me more than mend me, for I do
marvellously fret.' The good knight's servitors had already
told the surgeon the great desire he had to be at the battle, for
every day he had news from the camp of the French, how that
they were getting nigh the Spaniards and there were hopes
from day to day of the battle which would, to his great sorrow,
have been delivered without him. Having knowledge whereof
and also knowing his complexion, the surgeon said in his own
language, ' My lord, your wound is not yet closed up ; howbeit,
inside it is quite healed. Your barber shall see to dressing you
this once more; arid provided that every day, morning and
evening, he put on a little piece of lint and a plaister for which
I will deliver to him the ointment, it will not increase your
hurt ; and there is no danger, for the worst of the wound is
a-top and will not touch the saddle of your horse.' Whoso had
given him ten thousand crowns, the good knight had not been
so glad. He determined to set out in two days, commanding
his people to put in order all his gear.

" The lady with whom he lodged, who held herself all the
while his prisoner, together with her husband and her chil
dren, had many imaginings. Thinking to herself that, if her
guest were minded to treat with rigor herself and her husband,
he might get out of them ten or twelve thousand crowns, for
they had two thousand a year, she made up her mind to make
him some worthy present ; and she had found him so good a
man and of so gentle a heart that, to her thinking, he would

458 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvn.

be graciously content. On the morning of the day whereon
the good knight was to dislodge after dinner, his hostess, with
one of her servitors carrying a little box made of steel, entered
his chamber, where she found that he was resting in a chair
after having walked about a great deal so as continually, little
by little, to try his leg. She threw herself upon both knees;
but incontinently he raised her up and would never suffer her
to speak a word until she was first seated beside him. She
began her speech in this manner, ' My lord, the grace which
God did me, at the taking of this town, in directing you to this
our house was not less than the saving of me of my husband's
life and my own and my two daughters', together with their
honor which they ought to hold dearer still. And more, from
the time that you arrived here, there hath not been done to me
or to the least of my people a single insult but all courtesy ;
and there hath not been taken by your folks of the goods they
found here the value of a farthing without paying for it. My
lord, I am well aware that my husband and I and my children
and all of this household are your prisoners, for to do with and
dispose of at your good pleasure, as well as the goods that are
herein ; but, knowing the nobleness of your heart, I am come
for to entreat you right humbly that it may please you to have
pity upon us, extending your wonted generosity. Here is a
little present we make you ; you will be pleased to take it in
good part.' Then she took the box which the servitor was
holding and opened it before the good knight who saw it full
of beautiful ducats. The gentle lord, who never in his life
made any case of money, burst out laughing and said, ' Madam,
how many ducats are there in this box?' The poor soul was
afraid that he was angry at seeing so few and said to him, ' My
lord there are but two thousand five hundred ducats ; but, if
you are not content, we will find a larger sum.' Then said he,
* By my faith, madam, though you should give me a hundred
thousand crowns, you would not do so well towards me as you
have done by the good cheer I have had here and the kind
tendance you have given me ; in whatsoever place I may hap
pen to be, you will have, so long as God shall grant me life, a
gentleman at your bidding. As for your ducats, I will none
of them and yet I thank you ; take them back ; all my life I
have always loved people much better than crowns. And
think not in any wise that I do not go away as well pleased
with you as if this town were at your disposal and you had
given it to me.'

CH. XXYII.] LOUIS XII. (1498—1513). 459

" The good lady was much astounded at finding herself put
off. 'My lord,' said she, 'I should feel myself for ever the
most wretched creature in the world if you did not take away
with you so small a present as I make you, which is nothing in
comparison with the courtesy you have shown me heretofore
and still show me now by your great kindness.' When the
knight saw her so firm, he said to her, * Well, then, madam, I
will take it for love of you ; but go and fetch me your two
daughters, for I would fain bid them farewell.' The poor soul,
who thought herself in paradise now that her present was at
last accepted, went to fetch her daughters, the which were
very fair, good and well educated, and had afforded the good
knight much pastime during his illness, for right well could
they sing and play on the lute and spinet, and right well work
with the needle. They were brought before the good knight,
who, whilst they were attiring themselves, had caused the
ducats to be placed in three lots, two of a thousand each and
the other of five hundred. They having arrived would have
fallen on their knees, but were incontinently raised up, and the
elder of the two began to say, * My lord, these two poor girls,
to whom you have done so much honor as to guard, them, are
come to take leave of you, humbly thanking your lordship for
the favor they have received, for which, having nothing else in
their power, they will be for ever bound to pray God for you.'
The good knight, half-weeping to see so much sweetness and
humility in those two fair girls, made answer, ' Dear damoisels,
you have done what I ought to do ; that is, thank you for the
good company you have made me and for which I feel myself
much beholden and bounden. You know that fighting men
are not likely to be laden with pretty things for to present to
ladies ; and for my part, I am sore displeased that I am in no
wise well provided for making you such present as I am bound
to make. Here is your lady-mother who has given me two
thousand five hundred ducats which you see on this table ; of
them I give to each of you a thousand towards your marriage;
and for my recompense, you shall, an if it please you, pray
God for me.' He put the ducats into their aprons, whether
they would or not ; and then, turning to his hostess, he said to
her, * Madam, I will take these five hundred ducats for mine
own profit to distribute them amongst the poor sisterhoods
which have been plundered ; and to you I commit the charge
of them, for you, better than any other, will understand where
there is need thereof, and thereupon I take my leave of you.1

460 mtiTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. XXVIL

Then he touched them all upon the hand, after the Italian
manner, and they fell upon their knees, weeping so bitterly
that it seemed as if they were to be led out to their deaths.
Afterwards, they withdrew to their chambers, and it was time
for dinner. After dinner, there was little sitting ere the good
knight called for the horses ; for much he longed to be in the
company so yearned for by him, having fine fear lest the battle
should be delivered before he was there. As he was coming
out of his chamber to mount a-horseback, the two fair daugh
ters of the house came down and made him each of them a
present which they had worked during his illness; one was
two pretty and delicate bracelets, made of beautiful tresses of
gold and silver thread, so neatly that it was a marvel; the
other was a purse of crimson satin, worked right cunningly.
Greatly did he thank them, saying that the present came from
hand so fair that he valued it at ten thousand crowns ; and,
in order to do them the more honor, he had the bracelets put
upon his arms and he put the purse in his sleeve, assuring
them that, so long as they lasted, he would wear them for love
of the givers."

Bayard had good reason for being in such a hurry to rejoin
his comrades-in-arms and not miss the battle he foresaw. All
were as full of it as he was. After the capture of Brescia, Gas-
ton de Foix passed seven or eight days more there, whilst Bay
ard was confined by his wound to his bed. 4 ' The prince went,
once at least, every day to see the good knight, the which he
comforted as best he might and often said to him, * Hey I sir
Bayard, my friend, think about getting cured, for well I know
that we shall have to give the Spaniards battle between this
and a month ; and, if so it should be, I had rather have lost all
I am worth than not have you there, so great confidence have
I in you.' 'Believe me, my lord,' answered Bayard, 'that, if
so it is that there is to be a battle, I would, as well for the
service of the king my master as for love of you and for mine
own honor which is before everything, rather have myself car
ried thither in a litter than not be there at all.' The duke of
Nemours made him a load of presents according to his power,
and one day sent him five hundred crowns, the which the good
knight gave to the two archers who had stayed with him when
he was wounded."

Louis XII. was as impatient to have the battle delivered as
Bayard was to be in it. He wrote time after time to his
nephew G-aston that the moment was critical, that Emperol

CH. xxvii.] LOUIS XIL (1498—1515).

Maximilian harbored a design of recalling the five thousand
lanzknechts he had sent as auxiliaries to the French army, and
that they must be made use of whilst they were still to be had ;
that, on the other hand, Henry VIII. , king of England, was
preparing for an invasion of France, and so was Ferdinand,
king of Spain, in the south : a victory in the field was indis
pensable to baffle all these hostile plans. It was Louis XII. 's
mania to direct, from Paris or from Lyons, the war which he
was making at a distance and to regulate its movements as
well as its expenses. The Florentine ambassador, Pandolfini,
was struck with the perilousness of this mania ; and Cardinal
d'Amboise was no longer by to oppose it. Gaston de Foix
asked for nothing better than to act with vigor. He set out to
march on Ravenna, in hopes that by laying siege to this impor
tant place he would force a battle upon the Spanish army,
which sought to avoid it. There was a current rumor in Italy
that this army, much reduced in numbers and cooled in ardor,
would not hold its own against the French if it encountered
them. Some weeks previously, after the siege of Bologna had
been raised by the Spaniards, there were distributed about at
Rome little bits of paper having on them, " If anybody knows
where the Spanish army happens to be, let him inform the
sacristan of peace ; he shall receive as reward a lump of cheese."
Gaston de Foix arrived on the 8th of April, 1512, before Ra
venna. He there learned that, on the 9th of March, the am
bassador of France had been sent away from London by
Henry VIII. Another hint came to him from his own camp.
A German captain, named Jacob, went and told Chevalier
Bayard, with whom he had contracted a friendship, u that the
emperor had sent orders to the captain of the lanzknechts that
they were to withdraw incontinently on seeing his letter, and
that they were not to fight the Spaniards : ' As for me,' said he,
' I have taken oath to the king of France and I have his pay ;
if I were to die a hundred thousand deaths, I would not do this
wickedness of not fighting; but there must be haste.' The
good knight, who well knew the gentle heart of Captain Jacob,
commended him marvellously, and said to him by the mouth of
his interpreter, ' My dear comrade and friend, never did your
heart imagine wickedness. Here is my lord of Nemours, who
has ordered to his quarters all the captains to hold a council;
go we thither, you and I, and we will show him privately
what you have told me.' * It is well thought on,' said Captain
Jacobs: 'go we thither.' So they went thither. There were

462 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxm.

dissensions at the council : some said that they had three or
four rivers to cross; that everybody was against them, the
pope, the king of Spain, the Venetians, and the Swiss; that the
emperor was anything but certain; and that the best thing
would be to temporize: others said that there was nothing for
it but to fight or die of hunger like good-f or-naughts and cow
ards. The good duke of Nemours, who had already spoken
with the good knight and with Captain Jacob, desired to have
the opinion of the former, the which said, ' My lord, the longer
we sojourn, the more miserable too will become our plight, for
our men have no victual, and our horses must needs live on
what the willows shoot forth at the present time. Besides, you
know that the king our master is writing to you every day to
give battle, and that in your hands rests not only the safety of
his duchy of Milan but also all his dominion of France, seeing
the enemies he has to-day. Wherefore, as for me, I am of
opinion that we ought to give battle and proceed to it discreetly,
for we have to do with cunning folks and good fighters. That
there is peril in it is true; but one thing gives me comfort: the
Spaniards for a year past have, in this Romagna, been always
living like fish in the water and are fat and full-fed ; our men
have had and still have great lack of victual, whereby they will
have longer breath, and we have no need of aught else, for
whoso fights the longest to him will remain the field. ' " The
leaders of note in the army sided with the good knight, " and
notice thereof was at once given to all the captains of horse and
foot."

The battle took place on the next day but one, April 11.
"The gentle duke of Nemours set out pretty early from his
quarters, armed at all points. As he went forth, he looked at
the sun, already risen, which was mighty red. 'Look, my
lords, how red the sun is,' said he to the company about him.
There was there a gentleman whom he loved exceedingly, a
right gentle comrade, whose name was Haubourdin, the which
replied, ' Know you, pray, what that means, my lord ! To-day
will die some prince or great captain: it must needs be you or
the Spanish viceroy.' The duke of Nemours burst out a-laugh-
ing at this speech and went on as far as the bridge to finish the
passing-in-review of his army, which was showing marvellous
diligence." As he was conversing with Bayard who had come
in search of him, they noticed not far from them a troop of
twenty or thirty Spanish gentlemen, all mounted, amongst
whom was Captain Pedro de Paz, leader of all their jennettiem

«H. xrvn.] LOUIS XII. (U98— 1515). 463

[light cavalry, mounted on Spanish horses called jennets],
" The good knight advanced twenty or thirty paces and saluted
them, saying, * Gentlemen, you are diverting yourselves, as we
are, whilst waiting for the regular game to begin ; I pray you
let there be no firing of arquebuses on your side, and there
shall be no firing at you on ours.' " The courtesy was reci
procated. "Sir Bayard," asked Don Pedro de Paz, "who is
yon lord hi such goodly array and to whom your folks show
so much honor?" "It is our chief, the duke of Nemours,"
answered Bayard, " nephew of our prince and brother of your
queen." [Germaine de Foix, Gaston de Foix's sister had mar'
ried, as his second wife, Ferdinand the Catholic.] Hardly had
he finished speaking when Captain Pedro de Paz and all those
who were with him dismounted and addressed the noble prince
in these words, "Sir, save the honor and service due to the
king our master, we declare to you that we are and wish for
ever to remain your servants." The duke of Nemours thanked
them gallantly for their gallant homage and, after a short
chivalrous exchange of conversation, they went, respectively,
to their own posts. The artillery began by causing great havoc
on both sides. " 'Od's body," said a Spanish captain shut
up in a fort which the French were attacking and which he
had been charged to defend, " we are being killed here by bolts
that fall from heaven; go we and fight with men;" and he
sallied from the fort with all his people to go and take part in
the general battle. "Since God created heaven and earth,"
says the Loyal Serviteur of Bayard, " was never seen a more
cruel and rough assault than that which French and Spaniards
made upon one another, and for more than a long half -hour
lasted this fight. They rested before one another's eyes to re
cover their breath; then they let down their vizors and so
began all over again, shouting France I and Spain ! the most im
periously in the world. At last the Spaniards were utterly
broken and constrained to abandon their camp, whereon, and
between two ditches, died three or four hundred men-at-arms.
Every one would fain have set out in pursuit ; but the good
knight said to the duke of Nemours, who was all covered with
blood and brains from one of his men-at-arms that had been
carried off by a cannon ball, * My lord, are you wounded P ' No,f
said the duke, * but I have wounded a many others.' * Now
God be praised P said Bayard ; * you have gained the battle and
abide this day the most honored prince in the world ; but push
not farther forward ; reassemble your men-at-arms in this spot,'

464 HISTORY OF FRANCE. \<m.

let none set on to pillage yet, for it is not time; Captain Louis
d'Ars and I are off after these fugitives that they may not re
tire behind their foot; but stir not, for any man living, from
here unless Captain Louis d'Ars or I come hither to fetch you.' "
The duke of Nemours promised ; but whilst he was biding on
his ground, awaiting Bayard's return, he said to the baron du
Chimay, uAn honest gentleman who had knowledge," says
Fleuranges, " of things to come and who, before the battle, had
announced to Gaston that he would gain it, but he would be in
danger of being left there if God did not do him grace, ' Well,
sir dotard, am I left there as you said? Here I am still.' ' Sir,
it is not all over yet,' answered Chimay; whereupon there ar
rived an archer who came and said to the duke, * My lord, yon
der be two thousand Spaniards who are going off all orderly
along the causeway.' * Certes,' said Gaston, 'I cannot suffer
that; whoso loves me, follow me.' And resuming his arms he
pushed forward. * Wait for your men,' said sire de Lautrec to
him ; but Gaston took no heed, and, followed by only twenty
or thirty men-at-arms, he threw himself upon those retreating
troops." He was immediately surrounded, thrown from his
horse, and defending himself all the while, "like Eoland at
Roncesvalles," say the chroniclers, he fell pierced with wounds.
" Do not kill him," shouted Lautrec, " it is the brother of your
queen. " Lautrec himself was so severely handled and wounded
that he was thought to be deado Gaston really was ; though
the news spread but slowly. Bayard, returning with his com
rades from pursuing the fugitives, met on his road the Spanish
force that Gaston had so rashly attacked and that continued
to retire in good order. Bayard was all but charging them,
when a Spanish captain came out of the ranks and said to him
in his own language, " What would you do, sir? You are not
powerful enough to beat us , you have won the battle ; let the
honor thereof suffice you, aud let us go with our lives, for by
God's will are we escaped," Bayard felt that the Spaniard
spoke truly; he had but a handful of men with him, and his
own horse could not carry him any longer: the Spaniards
opened their ranks, and he passed through the middle of them
and let them go. " 'Las !" says his Loyal Servitev,r, " he knew
not that the good duke of Nemours was dead or that those yon.
der were they who had slain him; he had died ten thousand
deathp but he would have avenged him, if he had known it."

When tfie fatal news was known, the consternation and grief
WBPB profound. At the age of twenty-three Gaston de Foix

CH. rxvii.] LOUIS XII. (1498—1516), 465

had in less than six months won the confidence and affection
of the army, of the king and of France. It was one of those
sudden and undisputed reputations which seem to mark out
men for the highest destinies. * ' I would fain, " said Louis XII. ,
when he heard of his death, " have no longer an inch of land in
Italy and be able at that price to bring back to life my nephew
Gaston and all the gallants who perished with him. God keep
us from often gaining such victories!" "In the battle of
Ravenna," says Guicciardini, " fell at least ten thousand men,
a third of them French and two-thirds their enemies ; but in re
spect of chosen men and men of renown the loss of the victors
was by much the greater, and the loss of Gaston de Foix alone
surpassed all the others put together ; with him went all the
vigor and furious onset of the French army." La Palisse, a
warrior valiant and honored, assumed the command of this
victorious army ; but under pressure of repeated attacks from
the Spaniards, the Venetians and the Swiss, he gave up first the
Romagna, then Milaness, withdrew from place to place, and
ended by f ailing back on Piedmont. Julius II. won back all he
had won and lost. Maximilian Sforza, son of Ludovic the
Moor, after twelve years of exile in Germany, returned to
Milan to resume possession of his father's duchy. By the end
of June, 1512, less than three months after the victory of
Ravenna, the domination of the French had disappeared from
Italy.

Louis XII. had, indeed, something else to do besides crossing
the Alps to go to the protection of such precarious conquests.
Into France itself war was about to make its way ; it was his
own kingdom and his own country that he had to defend. In
vain, after the death of Isabella of Castile, had he married his
niece, Germaine de Foix, to Ferdinand the Catholic, whilst
giving up to him all pretentions to the kingdom of Naples. In
1512 Ferdinand invaded Navarre, took possession of the Spanish
portion of that little kingdom and thence threatened Gascony.
Henry VIII., king of England, sent him a fleet, which did not
withdraw until after it had appeared before Bayonne and
thrown the south-west of France into a state of alarm. In the
North Henry VIII. continued his preparations for an expedition
into France, obtained from his parliament subsidies for that
purpose, and concerted plans with Emperor Maximilian, who
renounced his doubtful neutrality and engaged himself at last
in the Holy League. Louis XTT. had in Germany an enemy
as zealous almost as Julius II. was in Italy: Maximilian^

466 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvn.

daughter, Princess Marguerite of Austria, had never forgiven
France or its king, whether he were called Charles VIII. or
Louis XII., the treatment sne had received from that court
when, after having been kept there and brought up for eight
years to become queen of France, she had been sent away and
handed back to her father to make way for Anne of Brittany.
She was the ruler of the Low Countries, active, able, full of
passion, and in continual correspondence with her father, the
emperor, over whom she exercised a great deal of influence.
[This correspondence was published in 1839 by the Societe de
IHistoire de France (2 vols. 8vo), from the originals which
exist in the archives of Lille.] The Swiss, on their side, con
tinuing to smart under the contemptuous language which
Louis had imprudently applied to them, became more and
more pronounced against him, rudely dismissed Louis de la
Tremoille who attempted to negotiate with them, re-established
Maximilian Sforza in the duchy of Milan, and haughtily styled
themselves ' ' vanquishers of kings and defenders of the holy
Roman Church." And the Roman Church made a good de
fender of herself. Julius II. had convoked at Rome, at St.
John Lateran, a council, which met on the 3rd of May, 1512,
and in presence of which the council at Pisa and Milan, after
an attempt at removing to Lyona, vanished away like a
phantom. Everywhere things were turning out according to
the wishes and for the profit of the pope ; and France and her
king were reduced to defending themselves on their own soil
against a coalition of all their great neighbors.

"Man proposes and God disposes." Not a step can be made
in history without meeting with some corroboration of that
modest, pious, grand truth. On the 21st of February, 1518,
ten months since Gaston de Foix, the victor of Ravenna, had
perished in the hour of his victory, Pope Julius II. died at
Rome at the very moment when he seemed invited to enjoy all
the triumph of his policy. He died without bluster and with
out disquietude, disavowing naught of his past life and re
linquishing none of his designs as to the future. He had been
impassioned and skilful in the employment of moral force,
whereby alone he could become master of material forces ; a
rare order of genius and one which never lacks grandeur, even
when the man who possesses it abuses it. His constant
thought was how he might free Italy from the barbarians;
and he liked to hear himself called by the name of liberator,
which was commonly given him. One day the out spoken

CH. xxvn.] LOUIS X1L (1498—1515). 457

Cardinal Grimani said to him that, nevertheless, the kingdom
of Naples, one of the greatest and richest portions of Italy, was
still under the foreign yoke ; whereupon Julius II. brandishing
the staff on which he was leaning, said wrathfully, " Assuredly,
if Heaven had not otherwise ordained, the Neapolitans too
would have shaken off the yoke which lies heavy on them. *
Guicciardini has summed up, with equal justice and sound
judgment, the principal traits of his character: "He was a
prince," says the historian, " of incalculable courage and firm
ness ; full of boundless imaginings which would have brought
him headlong to ruin if the respect borne to the Church, the
dissensions of princes and the conditions of the times, fax
more than his own moderation and prudence, had not sup.
ported him ; he would have been worthy of higher glory had
he been a laic prince, or had it been in order to elevate the
Church in spiritual rank and by processes of peace that he put
in practice the diligence and zeal he displayed for the purpose
of augmenting his temporal greatness by the arts of war.
Nevertheless he has left, above all his predecessors, a memory
full of fame and honor, especially amongst those men who can
no longer call things by their right names or appreciate them
at their true value, and who think that it is the duty of the
sovereign-pontiffs to extend, by means of arms and the blood
of Christians, the power of the Holy See rather than to wear
themselves out in setting good examples of a Christian's life
and in reforming manners and customs pernicious to the sal
vation of souls— that aim of aims for which they assert that
Christ has appointed them His vicars on earth."

The death of Julius II. seemed to Louis XII. a favorable op
portunity for once more setting foot in Italy and recovering at
least that which he regarded as his hereditary right, the duchy
of Milan. He commissioned Louis de la Tremoille to go and re
new the conquest ; and whilst thus re-opening the Italian war, he
commenced negotiations with certain of the coalitionists of the
Holy League, in the hope of causing division amongst them or
even of attracting some one of them to himself. He knew that
the Venetians were dissatisfied and disquited about their allies,
especially Emperor Maximilian, the new duke of Milan Maxi
milian Sforza, and the Swiss. He had little difficulty in com
ing to an understanding with the Venetian senate ; and, on the
14th of May, 1513, a treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive,
was signed at Blois between the king of France and the re
public of Venice. Louis hoped also to find at Rome in the new

468 BISTORT OF FRANCE). LCH. xrm

pope, Leo X. [Cardinal John de' Medici, elected pope March 11,
1513], favorable inclinations; but they were at first very am
biguously and reservedly manifested. As a Florentine, Leo X.
had a leaning towards France ; but as pope, he was not disposed
to relinquish or disavow the policy of Julius II. as to the inde
pendence of Italy in respect of any foreign sovereign and as to
the extension of the power of the Holy See ; and he wanted
time to make up his mind to infuse into his relations with
Louis XII. good-will instead of his predecessor's impassioned
hostility. Louis had not and could not have any confidence
in Ferdinand the Catholic ; but he knew him to be as prudent
as he was rascally, and he concluded with him at Orthez, on
1st of April, 1513, a year's truce, which Ferdinand took great
care not to make known to his allies, Henry VIII. king of
England and the Emperor Maximilian, the former of whom was
very hot-tempered and the latter very deeply involved, through
his daughter Marguerite of Austria, in the warlike league
against France. "Madam" [the name given to Marguerite as
ruler of the Low Countries], wrote the Florentine minister to
Lorenzo de' Medici, " asks for naught but war against the Most
Christian king ; she thinks of naught but keeping up and fan
ning the kindled fire, and she has all the game in her hands,
for the king of England and the emperor have full confidence
in her, and she does with them just as she pleases." This was
all that was gained during the year of Julius II. 's death by
Louis XII. 's attempts to break up or weaken the coalition
against France ; and these feeble diplomatic advantages were
soon nullified by the unsuccess of the French expedition in
Milaness. Louis de la Tremoille had once more entered it with a
strong army ; but he was on bad terms with his principal lieu
tenant, John James Trivulzio, over whom he had not the au
thority wielded by the young and brilliant Gaston de Foix; the
French were close to Novara, the siege of which they were
about to commence ; they heard that a body of Swiss was ad
vancing to enter the place ; La Tremoille shifted his position to
oppose them, and on the 5th of June, 1513, he told all his cap
tains in the evening that "they might go to their sleeping-
quarters and make good cheer, for the Swiss were not yet ready
to fight, not having all their men assembled ;" but early next
morning the Swiss attacked the French camp. " La Tremoille
had hardly time to rise and, with half his armor on, mount
his horse ; the Swiss outposts and those of the French were
already at work pell-mell over against his quarters. " The battle

CH. XXYIL] LOUIS XII. (1498—1515.) 4(59

was hot and bravely contested on both sides ; but the Swiss
by a vigorous effort got possession of the French artillery, and
turned it against the infantry of the lanzknechts, which was
driven in and broken. The French army abandoned the siege
of Novara and put itself in retreat first of all on Verceil, a town
of Piedmont, and then on France itself. "And I do assure
you, " says Fleuranges, an eye-witness and partaker in the battle,
"that there was great need of it; of the men-at-arms there
were but few lost or of the French foot ; which turned out a
marvellous good thing for the king and the kingdom, for they
found him very much embroiled with the English and other
nations." War between France and England had recom
menced at sea in 1512 : two squadrons, one French, of twenty
sail, and the other English, of more than forty, met on the 10th
of August somewhere off the island of Ushant ; a brave Breton,
Admiral Herve" Primoguet, aboard of "the great ship of the
queen of France," named the Cordeliere, commanded the
French squadron and Sir Thomas Knyvet, a young sailor " of
more bravery than experience," according to the historians of
his own country, commanded, on board of a vessel named the
Regent, the English squadron. The two admirals' vessels en
gaged in a deadly duel ; but the French admiral, finding him
self surrounded by superior forces, threw his grappling-irons
on to the English vessel and, rather than surrender, set fire to
the two admirals' ships which blew up at the same time
together with their crews of two thousand men. The sight of
heroism and death has a powerful effect upon men and some
times suspends their quarrels. The English squadron went
out again to sea and the French went back to Brest. Next
year the struggle recommenced, but on land and with nothing.
An English army started from Calais and went and blockaded,
on the 17th of June, 1513, the fortress of Therouanne in Artois.
It was a fortnight afterwards before Henry VIII. himself quit
ted Calais, where festivities and tournaments had detained him
too long for what he had in hand, and set out on the march
with twelve thousand foot to go and join his army before
Therouanne. He met on his road, near Tournehem, a body of
twelve hundred French men-at-arms with their followers
a-horseback, and in the midst of them Bayard. Sire de Piennes,
governor of Picardy, was in command of them. " My lord,"
said Bayard to him. "let us charge them; no harm can come
of it to us, or very little ; if, at the first charge, we make an
opening in them, they are broken ; if they repulse us, we shall

470 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvn.

still get away; they are on foot and we a-horseback ;" and
4 'nearly all the French were of this opinion," continues the
chronicler ; " but sire de Piennes said, ' Gentlemen, I have
orders, on my life, from the king our master, to risk nothing
but only hold his country. Do as you please ; for my part I
shall not consent thereto.' Thus was this matter stayed; and
the king of England passed with his band under the noses of
the French." Henry VIII. arrived quietly with his army be
fore Therouanne, the garrison of which defended itself vali
antly though short of provisions. Louis XII. sent orders to
sire de Piennes to revictual Therouanne "at any price." The
French men-at-arms, to the number of fourteen hundred lances,
at whose head marched La Palisse, Bayard, the duke de Lon-
gueville, grandson of the great Duriois, and sire de Piennes
himself, set out on the 16th of August to go and make, from
the direction of Guinegate, a sham attack upon the English
camp whilst eight hundred Albanian light cavalry were to
burst, from another direction, upon the enemies' lines, cut their
way through at a gallop, penetrate to the very fosses of the
fortress and throw into them munitions of war and of the
stomach, hung to their horses' necks. The Albanians carried
out their orders successfully. The French men-at-arms, after
having skirmished for some time with the cavalry of Henry
VIII. and Maximilian, began to fall back a little carelessly and
in some disorder towards their own camp when they perceived
two large masses of infantry and artillery, English and Ger
man, preparing to cut off their retreat. Surprise led to con
fusion ; the confusion took the form of panic ; the French men-
at-arms broke into a gallop and dispersing in all directions,
thought of nothing but regaining the main body and the camp
at Blangy. This sudden rout of so many gallants received the
sorry name of the affair of spurs, for spurs did more service
than the sword. Many a chosen captain, the duke de Longue-
vffle, sire de la Palisse, and Bayard, whilst trying to rally the
fugitives, were taken by the enemy. Emperor Maximilian,
who had arrived at the English camp three or four days be
fore the affair, was of opinion that the allies should march
straight upon, the French camp to take advantage of the panic
and disorder; but "Henry VIII. and his lords did not agree
with him." They contented themselves with pressing on the
siege of Therouanne, which capitulated on the 22nd of August,
for want of provisions. The garrison was allowed to go free,
1 the men-at-arms with lance on thigh and the foot with pike

dr. *xm.\ LOUIS XII. (1498—1516). 471

on shoulder, with their harness and all that they could carry."
But, in spite of an article in the capitulation, the town was
completely dismantled and burnt ; and, by the advice of Em
peror Maximilian, Henry VIII. made all haste to go and lay
siege to Tournai, a French fortress between Flanders and
Hainault, the capture of which was of great importance to the
Low Countries and to Marguerite of Austria, their ruler.

On hearing these sad tidings, Louis XII., though suffering
from an attack of gout, had himself moved in a litter from
Paris to Amiens, and ordered Prince Francis of Angouleme,
heir to the throne, to go and take command of the army, march
it back to the defensive line of the Somme, and send a garrison
to Tournai. It was one of that town's privileges to have no
garrison; and the inhabitants were unwilling to admit one,
saying that " Tournai never had turned and never would turn
tail; and, if the English came, they would find some one to
talk to them." "Howbeit," says Fleuranges, "not a single
captain was there, nor, likewise, the said lord duke, but un
derstood well how it was with people besieged, as indeed came
to pass, for at the end of three days during which the people of
Tournai were besieged they treated for appointment (terms)
with the king of England. " Other bad news came to Amiens.
The Swiss, puffed up with their victory at Novara and egged
on by Emperor Maximilian, had to the number of 30,000 en
tered Burgundy, and on the 7th of September laid siege to
Dijon, which was rather badly fortified. La Tremoille, gover
nor of Burgundy, shut himself up in the place and bravely re
pulsed a first assault, but "sent post-haste to warn the king to
send him aid ; whereto the king made no reply beyond that he
could not send him aid, and that La Tremoille should do the
best he could for the advantage and service of the kingdom. w
La Tremoille applied to the Swiss for a safe-conduct, and
"without arms and scantily attended" he went to them to try
whether "in consideration of a certain sum of money for the
expenses of their army they could be packed off to their own
country without doing further displeasure or damage." He
found them "proud and arrogant of heart, for they styled
themselves chastisers of princes," and all he could obtain from
them was " that the king should give up the duchy of Milan
and all the castles appertaining thereto, that he should restore
to the pope all the towns, castles, lands, and lordships which
belonged to him, and that he should pay the Swiss 400,000
crowns, to wit, 200,000 down and 200,000 at Martinmas in the

472 HISTORY OF FRANCS. [CH. xxvn.

following winter" [Corps Diplomatique dn Droit des Gens, by
Dumont, t. iv. part 1, p. 175]. As brave in undertaking a
heavy responsibility as he was in delivering a battle, La Tre-
moille did not hesitate to sign, on the 13th of September, this
harsh treaty; and, as he had not 200,000 crowns down to give
the Swiss, he prevailed upon them to be content with receiv
ing 20,000 at once, and he left with them as hostage, in pledge
of his promise, his nephew Rene d'Anjou, lord of Mezieres,
11 one of the boldest and discreetest knights in France." But
for this honorable defeat, the veteran warrior thought, " the
kingdom of France had been then undone ; for, assailed at all
its extremities, with its neighbors for its foes, it could not,
without great risk of final ruin, have borne the burden and de
fended itself through so many battles. " La Tremoille sent one
of the gentlemen of his house, the chevalier Reginald de
Moussy, to the king, to give an account of what he had done
and of his motives "Some gentlemen about the persons of
the king and the queen had implanted some seeds of murmur
ing and evil thinking in the mind of the queen, and through
her in that of the king, who readily gave ear to her words be
cause good and discreet was she. The said Reginald de Moussy,
having warning of the fact and without borrowing aid of a
soul (for bold man was he by reason of his virtues), entered the
king's chamber and falling on one knee announced according
to order the service which his master had done and without
which the kingdom of France was in danger of ruin, whereof
he set forth the reasons. The whole was said in presence of
them who had brought the king to that evil way of thinking
and who knew not what to reply to the king when he said to
them, * By the faith of my body, I think and do now by ex
perience that my cousin the lord of La Tremoille is the most
faithful and loyal servant that I have in my kingdom, and the
one to whom I am most bounden to the best of his abilities.
Go, Reginald, and tell him that I will do all that he has prom
ised; and if he has done well, let him do better.' The queen
heard of this kind answer made by the king and was not pleased
at it; but afterwards, the truth being known, she judged con
trariwise to what she, through false report, had imagined and
thought" [Memoires de la Trtmoille, in the Petitot collection,
t. xiv. pp. 476-492].

Word was brought at the same time to Amiens that Tournai,
invested on the 15th of September by the English, had capitu
lated, that Henry VIII. had entered it on the 21st, and that he

CH. xxvii. J LOUIS XIL (1498—1515). 473

had immediately treated it as a conquest of which he was
taking possession, for he had confirmed it in all its privileges
except that of having no garrison.

Such was the situation in which France, after a reign of
fifteen years and in spite of so many brave and devoted ser
vants, had been placed by Louis XII. 's foreign policy. Had he
managed the home affairs of his kingdom as badly and with as
little success as he had matters abroad, is it necessary to say
what would have been his people's feelings towards him and
what name he would have left in history? Happily for France
and for the memory of Louis XII. , his home-government was
more sensible, more clear-sighted, more able, more moral, and
more productive of good results than his foreign policy was.

When we consider this reign from this new point of view,
we are at once struck by two facts : 1st, the great number of
legislative aud administrative acts that we meet with bearing
upon the general interests of the country, interests political,
judicial, financial, and commercial; the Recueil des Ordon-
nances des Rois de France contains forty-three important acts
of this sort owing their origin to Louis XII. ; it was clearly a
government full of watchfulness, activity, and attention to
good order and the public weal ; 2nd, the profound remem
brance remaining in succeeding ages of this reign and its de
serts ; a remembrance which was manifested, in 1560 amongst
the states-general of Orleans, in 1576 and 1588 amongst the
states of Blois, in 1593 amongst the states of the League, and
even down to 1614 amongst the states of Paris. During more
than a hundred years France called to mind and took pleasure
in calling to mind the administration of Louis XII. as the
type of a wise, intelligent, and effective regimen. Confidence
may be felt in a people's memory when it inspires them for so
long afterwards with sentiments of justice and gratitude.

If from the simple table of the acts of Louis XII. 's home-
government we pass to an examination of their practical
results, it is plain that they were good and salutary. A con
temporary historian, earnest and truthful though panegyrical,
Claude de Seyssel, describes in the following terms the state
of France at that time: "It is, "says he, "a patent fact that
the revenue of benefices, lands, and lordships has generally-
much increased. And in like manner the proceeds of gabels,
turnpikes, law-fees and other revenues have been augmented
very greatly. . . . The traffic, too, in merchandize, whether
by sea or land, has multiplied exceedingly. For, by the bless-

474 HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvn.

ing of peace, all folks (except the nobles and even them I do
not except altogether) engage in merchandize. For one trader
that was in Louis XI. 's time to be found rich and portly at
Paris, Rouen, Lyons, and other good towns of the kingdom,
there are to be found in this reign more than fifty ; and there
are in the small towns a greater number than the great and
principal cities were wont to have. So much so that scarcely
a house is made on street without having a shop for merchan
dize or for mechanical art. And less difficulty is now made
about going to Rome, Naples, London, and elsewhere over sea
than was made formerly about going to Lyons or to Geneva.
So much so that there are some who have gone by sea to seek,
and have found, new homes. For the renown and authority
of the king now reigning are so great that his subjects are
honored and upheld in every country, as well at sea as on
land."

Foreigners were not less impressed than the French then*
selves with this advance in order, activity, and prosperity
amongst the French community. Macchiavelli admits it, and,
with the melancholy of an Italian politician acting in the
midst of rivalries amongst the Italian republics, he attributes
it above all to French unity, superior to that of any other
State in Europe.

As to the question, to whom reverts the honor of the good
government at home under Louis XII., and of so much
progress in the social condition of France, M. George Picot,
in his Histoire des Mats Generawx [t. i. pp. 532 — 536], attrib
utes it especially to the influence of the states assembled at
Tours, in 1484, at the beginning of the reign of Charles VIII. :
"They employed," he says, " the greatest efforts to reduce the
figure of the impost ; they claimed the voting of subsidies and
took care not to allow them save by way of gift and grant.
They did not hesitate to revise certain taxes, and when they
were engaged upon the subject of collecting of them, they
energetically stood out for the establishment of a unique,
classified body of receivers-royal and demanded the formation
of all the provinces into districts of estates, voting and appor
tioning their imposts every year, as in the cases of Languedoc,
Normandy, and Dauphiny. The dangers of want of discipline
in an ill-organized standing army and the evils caused to
agriculture by roving bands drove the states back to remin
iscences of Charles VII. 's armies; and they called for a mixed
organization in which gratuitous service, commingled in just

CH. xxvn.] LOUIS XIL (1498—1515). 475

proportion with that of paid troops, would prevent absorption
of the national element. To reform the abuses of the law, to
suppress extraordinary commissions, to reduce to a powerful
unity, with parliaments to crown all, that multitude of juris
dictions which were degenerate and corrupt products of the
feudal system in its decay, such was the constant aim of the
states-general of 1484. They saw that a judicial hierarchy
would be vain without fixity of laws; and they demanded a
summarization of customs and a consolidation of ordinances
in a collection placed within reach of all. Lastly they made a
claim, which they were as qualified to make as they were
intelligent in making, for the removal of the commercial
barriers which divided the provinces and prevented the free
transport of merchandize. They pointed out the repairing of
the roads and the placing of them in good condition as the first
means of increasing the general prosperity. Not a single
branch of the administration of the kingdom escaped their
conscientious scrutiny; law, finance, and commerce by turns
engaged their attention; and in all these different matters
they sought to ameliorate instutions but never to usurp power.
They did not come forward like the shrievalty of the Uni
versity of Paris in 1413, with a new system of administration ;
the reign of Louis XI. had left nothing that was important or
possible, in that way, to conceive ; there was nothing more to
be done than to glean after him, to relax those appliances of
government which he had stretched at all points, and to de
mand the accomplishment of such of his projects as were left
in arrear and the cure of the evils he had caused by the frenzy
and the aberrations of his absolute will."

We do not care to question the merits of the states-general
of 1484 ; we have but lately striven to bring them to light and
we doubt not but that the enduring influence of their example
and their sufferages counted for much in the progress of good
government during the reign of Louis XII. It is an honor to
France to have always resumed and pursued from crisis to
crisis, through a course of many sufferings, mistakes, and
tedious gaps, the work of her political enfranchisement and
the foundation of a regimen of freedom and legality in the
midst of the sole monarchy which so powerfully contributed
to her strength and her greatness. The states-general of 1484,
in spite of their rebuffs and long years after their separation,
held an honorable place in the history of this difficult and
tardy work; but Louis XI. 's personal share in the good home*

476 . HISTORY OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvn.

government of France during his reign was also great and
meritorious. His chief merit, a rare one amongst the powerful
of the earth, especially when there is a question of reforms
and of liberty, was that he understood and entertained the
requirements and wishes of his day ; he was a mere young
prince of the blood when the states of 1484 were sitting at
Tours ; but he did not forget them when he was king and, far
from repudiating their patriotic and modest work in the cause
of reform and progress, he entered into it sincerely and earn
estly with the aid of Cardinal d'Amboise, his honest, faithful,
and ever influential councillor. The character and natural
instincts of Louis XII, inclined him towards the same views as
his intelligence and moderation in politics suggested. He was
kind, sympathetic towards his people, and anxious to spare
them every burden and every suffering that was unnecessary
and to have justice, real and independent justice, rendered to
all. He reduced the talliages a tenth at first and a third a
later period. He refused to accept the dues usual on a joyful
accession. When the wars in Italy caused him some extraor
dinary expense he disposed of a portion of the royal posses
sions, strictly administered as they were, before imposing
fresh burdens upon the people. His court was inexpensive,
and he had no favorites to enrich. His economy became prov
erbial; it was sometimes made a reproach to him; and
things were carried so far that he was represented, on the
stage of a popular theatre, ill, pale, and surrounded by
doctors, who were holding a consultation as to the nature of
his malady : they at last agreed to give him a potion of gold
to take ; the sick man at once sat up, complaining of nothing
more than a burning thirst. When informed of this scanda
lous piece of buffoonery, Louis contented himself with saying,
"I had rather make courtiers laugh by my stinginess than
my people weep by my extravagance." He was pressed to
punish some insolent comedians, but, "No," said he,
"amongst their ribaldries they may sometimes tell us useful
truths ; let them amuse themselves provided that they respect
the honor of women." In the administration of justice he ac
complished important reforms, called for by the states-general
of 1484 and promised by Louis XI. and Charles VIII., but
nearly all of them left in suspense. The purchase of offices
was abolished and replaced by a two-fold election: in all
grades of the magistracy, when an office was vacant, the
judges were to assemble to select three persons from whom

OH. XXVIL] LOUIS XII. (1498—1515). 477

the king should be bound to choose. The irremovability of the
magistrates which had been accepted but often violated by
Louis XI. became under Louis XII. a fundamental rule. It
was forbidden to every one of the king's magistrates, from the
premier-president to the lowest provost, to accept any place or
pension from any lord, under pain of suspension from their
office or loss of their salary. The annual Mercurials (Wed
nesday-meetings) became, in the supreme courts, a general
and standing usage. The expenses of the law were reduced.
In 1501, Louis XII. instituted at Aix in Provence a new parlia
ment; in 1499 the court of exchequer at Rouen, hitherto a
supreme but movable and temporary court, became a fixed
and permanent court which afterwards received, under Francis
I. the title of Parliament. Being convinced before long, by
facts themselves, that these reforms were seriously meant, by
their author and were practically effective, the people con
ceived, in consequence, towards the king and the magistrates
a general sentiment of gratitude and respect. In 1570, Louis
made a journey from Paris to Lyons by Champagne and Bur
gundy ; and " wherever he passed," says St. Gelais, " men and
women assembled from all parts and ran after him for three
or four leagues. And when they were able to touch hig mule
or his robe or any thing that was his, they kissed their hands
. . . with as great devotion as they would have shown to a
reliquary. And the Burgundians showed as much enthusiasm
as the real old French."

Louis XII. 's private life also contributed to win for him we
will not say the respect and admiration but the good will ot
the public. He was not like Louis IX., a model of austerity
and sanctity, but after the licentious court of Charles VII. ,
the coarse habits of Louis XL and the easy morals of Charles
VIII. the French public was not exacting. Louis XII. was thrice
married. His firot wife, Joan, daughter of Louis XI, , was an
excellent and worthy princess but ugly, ungraceful, and
hump-backed. He had been almost forced to marry her, and
he had no child by her. On ascending the throne he begged
Pope Alexander VI. to annul his marriage; the negotiation
was anything but honorable either to the king or to the pope;
and the pope granted his bull in consideration of the favors
shown to his unworthy son, Caesar Borgia, by the king. Joan
alone behaved with a virtuous as well as modest pride, and
ended her life in sanctity within a convent at Bourges, being
wholly devoted to pious works, regarded by the people as a

478 BISTORT OF FRANCE. [CH. xxvn,

saint, spoken of by bold preachers as a martyr and " still the
true and legitimate queen of France," and treated at a dis
tance with profound respect by the king who had put her
away. Louis married in 1499 his prececessor's widow, Anne,
duchess of Brittany, twenty-three years of age, short, pretty,
a little lame, witty, able, and firm. It was, on both sides, a
marriage of policy, though romantic tales have been mixed up
with it ; it was a suitable and honorable royal arrangement,
without any lively affection on one side or the other, but with
mutual esteem and regard. As queen, Anne was haughty,
imperious, sharp-tempered, and too much inclined to mix in
intrigues and negotiations at Rome and Madrid, sometimes
without regard for the king's policy; but she kept up her
court with spirit and dignity, being respected by her ladies,
whom she treated well, and favorably regarded by the public,
who were well disposed towards her for having given Brittany
to France. Some courtiers showed their astonishment that
the king should so patiently bear with a character so far from
agreeable; but " one must surely put up with something from
a woman," said Louis, "when she loves her honor and her
husband. " After a union of fifteen years, Anne of Brittany
died on the 9th of January, 1514, at the castle of Blois, nearly
thirty-seven years old. Louis was then fifty-two. He seemed
very much to regret his wife; but, some few months after
her death, another marriage of policy was put, on his behalf,
in course of negotiation. It was in connection with Princess
Mary of England, sister of Henry VIII., with whom it was
very important for Louis XII. and for France to be once more
at peace and on good terms. The duke de Longueville, made
prisoner by the English at the battle of Guinegate, had by his
agreeable wit and his easy, chivalrous grace won Henry VIII. 's
favor in London: and he perceived that that prince, discon
tented with his allies the emperor of Germany and the king of
Spain, was disposed to make peace with the king of France.
A few months, probably only a few weeks, after Anne of
Brittany's death, De Longueville, no doubt with Louis XII. 'a
privity, suggested to Henry VIII. the idea of marriage between
his young sister and the king of France. Henry liked to do
sudden and striking things: he gladly seized the opportunity
of avenging himself upon his two allies who in fact had not
been very faithful to him, and he welcomed De Longueville's
idea. Mary was sixteen, pretty, already betrothed to Arch
duke Charles of Austria and, further, passionately smitten

CH. xxvii.] LOUIS XII. (1498—1515). 479

with Charles Brandon, the favorite of Henry VIII., who had
made him duke of Suffolk, and, according to English histori
ans, the handsomest nobleman in England. These two diffi
culties were surmounted; Mary herself formally declared he*
intention of breaking a promise of marriage which had been
made during her minority and which Emperor Maximilian
had shown himself in no hurry to get fulfilled ; and Louis XII.
formally demanded her hand. Three treaties were concluded
on the 7th of August, 1514, between the kings of France and
England in order to regulate the conditions of their political
and matrimonial alliance ; on the 13th of August the duke de
Longueville, in his sovereign's name, espoused the Princess
Mary at Greenwich ; and she, escorted to France by a brilliant
embassy, arrived on the 8th of October at Abbeville where
Louis XII. was awaiting her. Three days afterwards the
marriage was solemnized there in state, and Louis, who haf
suffered from gout during the ceremony, carried off his youn&
queen to Paris after having had her crowned at St. Denis,
''lary Tudor had given up the German prince, who was des-
ined to become Charles V., but not the handsome English
nobleman she loved. The duke of Suffolk went to France to
see her after her marriage, and in her train she had as maid
of honor a young girl, a beauty as well, who was one day to
be queen of England— Annie Boleyn.

Less than three months after this marriage, on the 1st of
January, 1515, " the death-bellrmen were traversing the streets
of Paris, ringing their bells and crying, * The good King Louis,
father of the people, is dead.' " Louis XII., in fact, had died
that very day at midnight, from an attack of gout and a rapid
decline. " He had no great need to be married, for many
reasons," says the Loyal Serviteur of Bayard, "and he likewise
had no great desire that way; but, because he found himself
on every side at war, which he could not maintain without
pressing very hard upon his people, he behaved like the pelican.
After that Queen Mary had made her entry, which was
mighty triumphant, into Paris, and that there had taken
place many jousts and tourneys which lasted more than six
weeks, the good king, because of his wife, changed all his
manner of living: he had been wont to dine at eight, and he
now dined at mid-day; he had been wont to go to bed at six
in the evening, and he often now went to bed at midnight.
He fell ill at the end of December, from the which illness

naujrht could save him. He was, whilst he lived, a good

21 VOL. a

480 BISTORT OF FRANCS. [CH. xxvit

prince, wise and virtuous, who maintained his people in peace
without pressing hard upon them in any way, save by con
straint. He had in his time much of good and of evil, whereby
he got ample knowledge of the world. He obtained many
victories over his enemies ; but towards the ends of his days
Fortune gave him a little turn of her frowning face. He was
borne to his grave at St. Denis amongst his good predecessors,
with great weeping and wailing, and to the great regret of his
subjects."

" He was a gentle prince," says Robert de la Marck, lord of
Fleuranges, "both in war and otherwise and in all matters
wherein he was required to take part. It was pity when this
malady of gout attacked him, for he was not an old man."

To the last of his days Louis XII. was animated by earnest
sympathy and active solicitude for his people. It cost him a
great deal to make with the king of England the treaties of
August 7th 1514, to cede Tournai to the English, and to agree
to the payment to them of a hundred thousand crowns a year
for ten years. He did it to restore peace to France attacked
on her own soil and feeling her prosperity threatened. For
the same reason he negotiated with Pope Leo X., Emperor
Maximilian and Ferdinand the Catholic, and he had very
nearly attained the same end by entering once more upon
pacific relation with them, when death came and struck him
down at the age of fifty-three. He died sorrowing over the
concessions he had made from a patriotic sense of duty as
much as from necessity and full of disquietude about the future.
He felt a sincere affection for Francis de Valois, count of
Angouleme, his son-in-law and successor; the marriage bet ween
bis daughter Claude and that prince had been the chief and
most difficult affair connected with his domestic lif e ; and it was
only after the death of the queen, Anne of Brittany, that he
had it proclaimed and celebrated. The bravery, the brilliant
parts, the amiable character, and the easy grace of Francis I.
delighted him, but he dreaded his presumptous inexperience,
bis reckless levity, and his ruinous extravagance ; and in his
anxiety as a king and father he said, "we are laboring in
vain; this big boy will spoil everything for us."

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