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CHOICE EXAMPLES OF BOOK ILLUMINATION.

Fac-similes from Illuminated Manuscripts and Illustrated Books

of Early Date.

FOUR SAINTED QUEENS OF THE BOURBON

LINE.

From tin Condc Livre iV Hemes, 'written in Franee about i^go.

This is a companion illumination to the miniature of the Annunciation given in another volume. It is a fitting picture for the prayer-book from which it is taken, since the latter was apparently executed for a member of the royal family. The manuscript derives its name from the fact that it belonged between 1650 and 1700 to a son of the great Conde. The four royal ladies are apparently uttering in unison the well-known words of the prayer-book :

" O Lord, open Thou my lips, and my mouth shall show forth Thy praise."

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CLASSIC MEMOIRS

PHILIPPE DE COMMINES ; MARGUERITE DE VALOIS ;

DUC DE SULLY; CARDINAL DE RICHELIEU;

CARDINAL.de RETZ; MADAME DE MONTESPAN ;

DUC DE SAINT-SIMON; MADAME CAMPAN;

MADAME ROLAND; PRINCE DE TALLEYRAND:

MADAME DE REMUSAT ; MADAME JUNOT

WITH A SPECIAL INTRODUCTION BY

GEORGE SAINTSBURY

PROFESSOR OF RHETORIC AND ENGLISH LITERATURE, UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH

REVISED EDITION

i0

THE

T^i .)X ( >)X COX (MJ^t..J^.J^

Copyright, igoi, Bv THE COLONIAL PRESS.

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SPECIAL INTRODUCTION

THERE has been some debate, and perhaps there might, not without advantage, have been more on the question 9 whether in certain departments of Hterature they do

C really " order these things so much better in France " than in

. England. In criticism, and in other kinds of miscellaneous

[JJ writing, much stronger fight can be made for English than

[j--— most Englishmen seem to think. In the peculiar kind of the diary we are alone ; a certain Clerk of the Acts of the Navy ^ has distanced, and probably always will distance, all competi-

^ tors. Even in letters the match is not quite hopeless on our

o) side.

1:+^ But in the memoir it is different. The most patriotic

Englishman, the most courageous, the best informed, the wari- est, the cunningest of fence, can never hope to dispute French superiority here. And though inquiring into the causes of lit- erary phenomena is, as a rule, a much more difficult, a much more delicate, above all a much more dangerous business than the quiet appreciation of them, and perhaps not quite so sensi- ble, it is sometimes interesting and can be safely indulged in here.

The memoir is not a very early kind of literature ; we have hardly any none of the properest kind from antiquity, though the " Memorabilia " in Greek and the " Agricola " in Latin are, as it were, " tries " at the thing. Xenophon, indeed, must, from indications in every one of his works, have had al- most perfect gifts for the kind, had it existed ; and if he had been inspired to write his own memoirs they would not only be worth all his present work put together, good as it is ; they would not only have made Greek history more intelligible than all the labors of scholars have made it^ but it is not rash to say that they would have been one of the most delightful books

111

iv SPECIAL INTRODUCTION

in the world. On the other hand, Herodotus would probably have been much too discursive, and Thucydides too severely and disdainfully reticent to make a perfect memoir-writer.

Among the Latins, Tacitus, as he has partly shown in the instance given, might have been a great memoir-writer, inclin- ing to the Carlylian; but Pliny must have been a great one, though of another kind.

Whether the French had this gift from ethnological causes, from the mixture of Celtic and Latin blood, is a question which may be left for discussion by those who are less profanely scep- tical on such points than the present writer. But they certainly seem to have had it from the very first. Pliny's own " Letters " are not quite as near to memoirs of the very first class as are those of Sidonius Apollinaris in the fifth century before the Franks were dominant anywhere except in the extreme North. And when " France " and " French " proper emerge, the gift is most certainly not any the worse for waiting exercise. Al- though the " Conquete de Constantinople " is rather what may be called a personal chronicle than a memoir, the memoir quality of Villehardouin is unmistakable; while that of Joinville may almost be said never to have been mistaken. Chance or choice led the third great mediaeval writer, who succeeds these two in France, to adopt a form ostensibly further from the memoir than Joinville's, and almost than Villehardouin's ; yet it need hardly be said that much of Froissart is pure memoir, memoir in quintessence. And with the other name which follows these in as natural sequence, we arrive at the thing complete, named and classed, and come to its own. Commines is a little ham- pered by the unreadiness of the language on the one hand and by fifteenth-century pedantry on the other: but his genius and the sympathy between form and artist get the better of both drawbacks. The memoir-quality (of which more anon) ap- pears in passages of his like those to be given in this book as it had never appeared before; as it was constantly to appear after. For three centuries, at least (whether it failed in the nineteenth or not there is no need to discuss here), there was never lacking somebody, there were usually living not a few, who had " got the seed " of this fashion of composition, and so could " raise the flower." Let us consider very briefly, but

SPECIAL INTRODUCTION v

as fully as space will allow us to do, what the notes and marks of seed and flower are.

The memoir proper may, in the first place, be distinguished, probably without fear of controversy, from the history, as be- ing essentially what has been called above a personal chronicle a chronicle not mainly of things read, though these may come in to some extent, but of things seen, heard, experienced, and recounted from the point of view of the writer himself. But it is further necessary and here there should not be much more disagreement, but may be some that something beside the personal element should come in. The record of a purely private existence cannot properly be called "memoirs": there must be some contact with public life, with actual history in the common sense and the more the better. If this is lacking, the thing may be an autobiography and one of great interest and value; but it is not memoirs. The public matters carry off and justify the private just as the private qualify and differenti- ate the public. Both must exist. Cellini's " Life " and De- foe's " Memoirs of a Cavalier," though the matter of the former is mostly private and not improbably in part fictitious, while it is at least possible that the latter is fiction from beginning to end, are in form memoirs irreproachable and of the purest kind. Rousseau's " Confessions " and Amiel's " Journal " are not.

I think further (though here I admit that the matter does become controversial) that memoirs, to have the right " race" and flavor, must be deliberately written to be read with a view to the public eye as well as in reference to at least partly public subjects. The diary, unless it is an absolute soliloquy, loses all genuine quality: if it is written for anybody else (even one body) it becomes a letter in batches. Whether the let- ter can ever be written in perfection for more than one pair, or a very small circle, of priviliged eyes is a well-known point of dispute. But it seems to me that the memoir must be com- posed as a book with a view to at least ultimate publication with an intention that, just as public and private affairs have joined to provide its substance, so the public shall be the recipi- ent of the writer's private views and experiences. For this pur- pose a very peculiar mode of presentation is required neither

t~-

r

vi SPECIAL INTRODUCTION

bare narration, nor bare discussion, nor even both combined, but a skilful blending of both with additional elements and seasonings. It is no new observation, I suppose, that the per- fect memoir is simply a " true " equivalent of the perfect his- torical novel ; and it would not be surprising if the literary historians of the future associated the decadence of the memoir with the rise of the novel. Certainly such a writer as Scott or Dumas pursues exactly the course of the best memoir-writers : only he blends with the assured and public material, not his own experiences, not his own thoughts, even to any great extent as such, but the experiences and thoughts of imagined person- ages. If this be so, it will be further obvious that a peculiar difficulty besets the memoir-writer, from which his novelist- brother is free. Le moi est haissablc: yet it is the essence of the memoir that it shall be brought in. How to bring it in, and how much of it, and so on here is the rub of memoir-writing.

Now we may go back and see whether these results (given, of course, not as demonstration, but as opinion) will throw any light on that superiority of French memoir-writing with which we began. To say that the French are more egotistical than other people, and especially than the English, would be not so much illiberal as absurd. There is probably little differ- ence between the egotism of individuals, though it takes differ- ent forms ; there certainly cannot be much between the egotism of nations. But the nation, like the individual, generally wears its egotism with a difference, and with a difference which is necessarily more emphatic and more visible at a distance than in the individual case. In the memoir it will be seen at once that what is wanted is the faculty of being egotistical without being offensive of knowing how to present yourself to the public so that this self shall be a not disagreeable spectacle ; in short, of seeing yourself, not merely as others will see you, but as others will probably care to see you.

Now I will carry the banner of my patron saint with any- body and against anybody at all times and in all places where decency permits ; but I cannot pretend to think that this con- noisseurship in self-presentation is anything but a very rare gift with Englishmen, while to some extents and in certain ways the French are to the manner born. Very often perhaps in.

SPECIAL INTRODUCTION vii

the majority of cases an Englishman does not think of what other people are thinking about him at all ; too frequently he does not care; and a certain density, which not infrequently attends the strength of his intellectual constitution, sometimes makes it difficult for him to know, even if he does care. The result is that he too often passes (if he passes at all) from in- ^ difference into uneasy self-consciousness or offensive self-asser- tion. Frenchmen, and still more Frenchwomen, on the other

hand, are always thinking of what other people think of them ; y

they are extremely determined to be well thought of, and have at least considerable skill in presenting themselves to advantage. They are, or at any rate were, when at their best, notoriously free alike from niaiwaise honte, from proneness to be bores, and from proneness to hetise: while, though it is certainly as possi- ble for a Frenchman to be impudent as for an Englishman to be insolent, there is, to say the least, no greater tendency in the former to reach his particular stage of corruption. Now if a writer has plenty of experience to go upon (that must be granted ex hypothcsi in all cases) ; if he is not too shy to give the personal ^^

touch freely ; if he is governed in giving it by constant attention 7~ to the dangers of boring or making a fool of himself, or offend- ing by too much egotism ; and if, finally, he or she has at com- mand a language of the extraordinary literary aptitudes of French prose for at least 250 years before the Revolution, then it will go very hard, indeed ; but he or she will give us good, and in happy cases the very best memoirs.

That is what Frenchmen and Frenchwomen did for the world during at least a quarter of a millennium : and most profoundly grateful the world ought to be to them. If anybody told me that he was going to start a library for pleasure, and asked me to specify books, I really do not know that I should put any in the list before the great collections of Michaud and Poujoulat for the earlier period, and of Barriere for the later, though the volumes of the first are certainly rather heavy to hold. And I must confess that I rather envy the compiler of the volume to which I have been asked to write this introduction, for hav- ing had a legitimate excuse, in his search for suitable, or, rather, for the most suitable passages, to read again Commines and Marguerite, Retz and Richelieu, the stately solemnity of Sully,

viii SPECIAL INTRODUCTION

the tempestuous panorama or phantasmagoria of Saint-Simon, the horrors and alarms of the Revolution memoirs, the mingled glories and sordidnesses, adventures and intrigues of those of the empire. Such a provision of human interest there is to be found nowhere else in volume ; only the very greatest poems and plays and novels excel it in intensity ; and perhaps only in these very greatest examples of purely imaginative literature is there to be found greater artistic pleasure from the handling of the subjects provided.

Cou^

GEORGE SAINTSBURY.

(Professor of Rhetoric and English Literature at the University of Edinburgh.)

Photogravure from a recent photograph.

PREFACE

IN the region of literature there is not a more fascinating field than that of memoir. It is not only valuable from the purely historical standpoint, but it introduces that personal element which is necessarily absent in the broad treat- ment of epochs by the historian. The sincerity which so often is absent from the public utterances of great men and women appears again in the sentences penned in the privacy of the study or boudoir. The thoughts, the likes, the dislikes, concealed for the sake of policy from the world, make their appearance in the memoir, and cast upon the public records side-lights that reveal unsuspected motives and unknown pur- poses.

Among nations, the French, perhaps, are facile princeps in this field. The vivacity, the epigrammatic power of their language, and their innate powers of observation and expres- sion enable them to depict, in a fashion perhaps more vivid than is possible to anyone else, the vie intimc of courts, or the cabals and intrigues of statesmen. Commines' memoirs excel in this respect, and yet, perhaps, their most characteristic features are their childlike sincerity and unconsciousness. The knell of medisevalism had already sounded in his day, yet Commines describes events, characters, and conditions as if the sway of feudality and its customs were to continue for centuries. His tone throughout is in the key of that dialogue between Solon and Croesus, in which the philosopher assures the king that to be rich does not necessarily mean to be happy, and he describes the fall of the great Burgundian power before the valor of the Swiss freemen and the machina- tions of Louis XI in the manner in which Homer notes and laments our common mortality.

That Solon's dictum concerning wealth and happiness had the axiomatic quality of a truism was experienced by

ix

X PREFACE

Marguerite de Valois as well as by Commines. Between her brother, the French King, and her husband, the warlike King of Navarre, the tact and affections of the brilliant and witty princess were tried to the uttermost, and as she describes the turbulent times that prevailed at the French Court during her enforced sojourn there, detained from joining her husband as a pledge of peace, one detects a note of pathos running through the vivacity of her narrative.

The value of Sully's memoirs is such that no man, till he has perused them, can form a just conception of the great Henri Quatre. Sully was not only Henry's minister, but Henry's confidant and friend, and he brings before us the great Huguenot in his good and evil fortunes, as a king, a warrior, or a politician, as a husband, father, or friend, in so intimate and affecting a manner as to enhance to the utmost the value of these side-lights on the reign of Henri IV.

Of Richelieu it may be said that in his memoirs he reveals himself perhaps more disadvantageously than any other writer. Even as he tells us of the military proceedings at the memorable siege of La Rochelle, and proceeds onward to trace the thread of intrigue that led to the great Cabal, while admit- ting and admiring his patriotism and astuteness as a states- man, we are impressed by the fact that he was the most un- scrupulous of all the many promoters of French national greatness.

Another of the great cardinal-statesmen of France, De Retz, the father and supporter of the Fronde, is a witness to the fact that in the memoir, as nowhere else, we find the man. As we read of the eclipse of Mazarin, his great rival, the insight of De Retz into character and human nature, his power to paint men in their true colors, his naive confessions of self- flattery and personal weakness evoke our sympathy and com- pel our admiration.

The varied nature of St. Simon's memoirs is not surprising when one realizes the history of the man. The vicissitudes of court life under Louis XIV were never better described than by Sully. First high in favor at court, then debased by the intrigues of his enemies, he found himself compelled by cir- cumstances to keep his fingers on the social as well as on the political pulse of the time, and to keep his ears open to record

PREFACE

XI

the love affairs, the scandals, the marriages, the comedies in one direction, the tragedies in another, of the intimate side of court life, as well as to chronicle the greater themes involved in political intrigue.

Historians, on the whole, have dealt rather hardly with Madame de Montespan, taking, perhaps, their impressions from the judgment, often narrow and malicious, of her con- temporaries. Her own memoirs give us a fairer estimate, though they were avowedly compiled in a desultory way. The cynical court lady, whose beauty fascinated the great King, is here sketched for us in vivid fashion by her own hand, for while she depicts others, she really draws her own portrait. It was no ordinary woman that won the grand monarqiie, and if we look closely into her records of those subtle times we perceive, as in a glass darkly, the contour of a most attractive, sympathetic, if perplexing, personality.

Ill-fated Marie Antoinette found in Madame Campan, the first head of the College of St. Cyr, and the Queen's devoted confidante, a most loyal biographer. Written from the point of view of a royalist, the memoirs left by Madame Campan afford a pathetic insight into the agonies of the royal pair in the period immediately preceding their arrest and execu- tion. These recollections seem to enforce and lament the fact that in some cases, with the utmost of abnegation and desire to do right, repentance may come too late.

From the depths of the Prison of St. Pelagic Madame Ro- land wrote her autobiography and the recollections of her life. It was characteristic of the blind fury of the Revolution that it involved in its fatal coils such characters as the guileless, pious, and learned Roland, to whom, if for nothing more, we are indebted for an apostrophe on the scaffold that will live while literature endures.

The appearance of Talleyrand's memoirs was long awaited with curiosity and alarm. He was believed to possess more dangerous secrets of high importance than any other man of his time ; and whether or not he had friends to reward, it was known that he had enemies to punish. When it was found that he had forbidden the publication of his manuscripts until thirty years after his death^ the belief in their compromising character was confirmed; and when after the required time

xii PREFACE

had elapsed, they were still withheld, people beean to look upon them as a sort of historical dynamite, to be exploded only after everybody in danger had been removed from its field of ac- tivity. Among their most startling revelations was Talley- rand's expose of Napoleon. The memoirs scarcely touch a critical point in the Emperor's career without dealing him a stab. Everywhere they paint him as heartless, vain, vulgar, wanton in attack, ungenerous and pitiless to the defeated, un- truthful, proud of his ability to deceive, and wholly without principle and without gratitude. And they do this, not by ascribing these qualities to him, but by carefully narrating the incidents that exhibit them.

Of Madame de Remusat, it may be said that her memoirs are a record in detail of the daily life of the author, as well as an intimate picture of life at the court of Bonaparte in the early years of the nineteenth century. They show us what changes the establishment of the empire effected at the court, and how Hfe there and its relations became more difficult and embarrassing. They show, too, how the prestige of the Em- peror declined in proportion as he misused his great gifts and his chances. And they show that, while fascinated by the genius of Napoleon, the writer was neither blind to his faults nor narrow in her judgment of him.

Madame Junot declares that the writer of memoirs should give reahty to the scenes depicted, and she, therefore, invokes detail to assist her. The naive confession that she could not afford to leave out the catalogue of her corbcille and trousseau on the occasion of her marriage to General Junot awakes the note of human sympathy, and we follow with increased inter- est her simple narrative of the days when Bonaparte was secretly planning his way to absolute power.

In French memoirs may be traced the social life as well as the political development of the land, and in the series here given will be found the most attractive and instructive pens among her brilliant galaxy of writers.

CONTENTS

PACK

Philippe de Commines i

The Fall of Burgundy 3

Marguerite de Valois 40

Turbulent Times at Court 42

Due DE Sully 59

Sidelights on the Reign of Henry IV 61

Cardinal de Richelieu 105

Rochelle and the Great Cabal 107

Cardinal de Retz 133

The Eclipse of Mazarin 135

Madame de Montespan 181

The Triumph of Madame de Maintenon 183

Due DE Saint-Simon 203

Court Life under Louis XIV 205

Madame de Campan 255

Memoirs of Marie Antoinette 257

Madame Roland 277

An Autobiographical Sketch 279

Prince de Talleyrand 301

From Consul to Emperor 303

Madame de Remusat 349

Life at the Court of Bonaparte 351

Madame Junot 401

Paris during the Consulate 403

xiii

ILLUSTRATIONS

FACING PAGE

Four Sainted Queens of the Bourbon Line Frontispiece

Fac-simile illumination of the Fifteenth Century

George Saintsbury viii

Photogravure from a recent photograph

Jeunesse .......... 58

Photogravure from the original painting by Raphael Collin

Louis the Fourteenth ....... 202

Photogravure from the original painting by C. Le Febure

A Page from the History of Livy .... 300 Fac-simile manuscript of the Sixth Century

/

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY

BY

^i^iltppt tic Commine^

PHILIPPE DE COMMINES

1445— 1509

Philippe de Commines (or Comyne), Sieur d'Argenton, a French statesman, and the author of very interesting and valuable memoirs, was born at the castle of Commines, not far from Lille, in 1445. After receiving a careful education, he passed into the court of Burgundy about 1466, and attached himself particularly to Charles the Bold (then Comte de Charolais). In 1472, Commines, who was anything but punctilious in his notions of honor, entered the service of Louis XI, the rival and enemy of Charles, who immediately covered him with honors, and made him one of his most contidential advisers. He proved himself a very suitable agent for carrying out the designs of the crafty monarch ; but after the death of Louis, by his adherence to the party of the Duke of Orleans, Commines incurred the displeasure of the government of Anne of Beaujeu, and was sentenced to a forfeiture of a fourth of his estates and to ten years' banishment. This punishment, however, does not seem to have been carried out, for after a few years we find Commines again employed in important affairs of diplomacy. Though engaged in the service of Charles VIII, and the Duke of Orleans, afterward Louis XII, Commines failed to win the confidence of these masters. He died at his castle of Argenton, October 17, 1509.

Commines's " Memoirs " are admirably written, and afford abundant proof that he possessed a clear, acute, and vigorous mind. He seems to have looked keenly into the heart of every man who crossed him in life, and with cool, severe anatomy, dissects him for the benefit of posterity. He is the first modern writer who in any degree has displayed sagacity in reasoning on the characters of men and the consequences of their actions, or who has been able to generalize his observations by compari- son and reflection. This ability to discuss motives as well as events renders him far superior to Froissart, who, on the other hand, greatly exceeds hini in picturesqueness of style and fertility of invention. Frois- sart described notable occurrences ; Commines delineated great men. The one contemplated the strife of kings and kingdoms as a spectator of the Isthmian games may have gazed at that heart-stirring spectacle. The other watched the schemes of statesmen and the conflict of nations with some approach to that judicial serenity which we ascribe to a mem- ber of the Amphictyonic Council. If Froissart may be termed the Livy of France, Commines is entitled to rank as the French Tacitus.

2

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY

AFTER the Duke of Burgundy had conquered all Lor- raine, and received of the King St. Quentin, Ham, and Bohain, with all the constable's goods which could be found, he agreed to meet the King at Auxerre. The King and he were to have an interview upon a river, with a bridge built over it after the same manner as that at Picquigny for King Louis and the King of England ; and several messengers passed and repassed continually about this afifair. And the Duke of Burgundy resolved to put the greatest part of his army, that had been much fatigued and harassed in the siege of Nuz and their expedition into Lorraine, into quarters of refreshment, and to canton the rest in such towns as belonged to the Count of Romont and others near to Berne and Friburg ; upon which towns he had resolved to make war for their insolent behavior during the siege of Nuz, for their having assisted the enemy in taking from him the county of Ferrette, and for their usurpa- tion of some part of the Count of Romont's territories. The King was extremely desirous of this interview, and earnestly entreated the duke to let his army lie still in their quarters of refreshment, and not to attempt anything against the poor Svv^iss. Upon the approach of this army, the Swiss sent am- bassadors to the duke, and offered to restore whatever they had taken from the Count of Romont. On the other hand, the Count of Romont pressed him to come in person to his assistance ; and, contrary to sober counsel and what all declared would be the best, considering the season and the shattered state of his army, the duke resolved to march against them himself; it being agreed between the King and him, under both their hands, that as to the affair of Lorraine, there should be no dispute between them.

With this shattered and fatigued army the duke marched

3

4 COMMINES

out of Lorraine into Burgundy, where the ambassadors of the old German leagues, called Swiss, came to him, and offered, beside the restitution before mentioned, to abandon all alliances that were contrary to his interest (and particularly that with the King of France), to enter into alliance with him, and (for a small sum of money) to serve him against the King with 6,000 men, whenever he should require their assistance. But the duke would hearken to no overtures, for his ruin was de- creed. The new allies (as they term them in those parts), namely, Basle, Strasburg, and other imperial towns situated near the head of the Rhine, had heretofore joined, with Sigis- mund, Duke of Austria, at the time when he was at war with the Swiss ; but now a confederacy was made between them and the Swiss for ten years, at the solicitation and expense of the King of France, at the time that the county of Ferrette was taken from the Duke of Burgundy, and his governor Pierre d'Archambault (who was the cause of all his misfor- tunes afterward) put to death at Basle. A prince ought nar- rowly to observe and watch the conduct of those persons he appoints as governors over his new conquests ; for, instead of easing his subjects, administering justice, and treating them with more gentleness than before, this Archambault proceeded quite otherwise and oppressed them with all manner of violence and extortion, and was the occasion of great mischief both to himself, his prince, and abundance of brave men beside. This alliance (which, as I said before, was to be ascribed wholly to the King's management) proved afterward very advantage- ous to his Majesty's interest, and more so than most people were able to foresee, for I esteem it as one of the wisest and most important actions of his reign, and the most prejudicial to his enemies ; for if the Duke of Burgundy's affairs were once in a low condition, there would be none left to cope with the King, or oppose him in any of his designs I mean of his subjects, and in his own kingdom, for all the rest sailed under his wind. For this reason, it was of great importance to com- bine Duke Sigismund and these new confederates in an alliance with the Swiss, between whom there had been great enmity for a long time ; but it put his Majesty to the expense of several embassies and a vast sum of money.

All hopes of an accommodation being entirely vanished, the

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY 5

Swiss ambassadors returned to acquaint their masters with the Duke of Burgundy's absokite refusal of their propositions, and to make preparations for their defence. The duke marched with his army into the Pays de Vaud (in Savoy), which the Swiss had taken from the Count of Romont, and he took three or four towns belonging to Monsieur de Chasteau-Guyon, which the Swiss had seized upon^ but defended very ill. From thence he advanced to besiege a place called Granson ^ (which also belonged to Monsieur de Chasteau-Guyon), into which they had thrown 700 or 800 of their best troops ; and because it was near them, they had resolved to defend it to the last extremity. The duke's army was mightily increased, for he daily received considerable re-enforcements out of Lombardy and Savoy; and he entertained strangers rather than his own subjects, of whom he might have formed a sufHcient army that would have been more faithful and valiant : but the death of the constable had filled him with strange jealousies of them, and various other imaginations. He had a fine train of ar- tillery, and he lived in great pomp and magnificence in the camp, to show his grandeur and riches to the Italian and German ambassadors who were sent to him ; and he had all his valuable jewels, plate, and rich furniture with him : besides, he had great designs upon the duchy of Milan, where he ex- pected to find a considerable party. It was not many days after the duke's investing Granson, before the garrison being terrified with his continual battering it with cannon, surren- dered at discretion, and were all put to the sword.- The Swiss were assembled, but they were not very numerous,^ as several of them have told me (for that country produced not so many soldiers as was imagined, and still fewer than at present, be- cause of late many of them have left their husbandry, and fol- lowed the wars), and of their confederate troops there were not many, because they were obliged to hasten at short notice to the relief of their friends in Granson ; and when their army

1 " The duke encamped before Gran- son on the nineteenth of February, 1476, with an army of 50,000 men or more, of all languages and countries, with a quantity of cannon and other engines of novel construction, and tents and accoutrements all glittering with gold, and a great host of servants, merchants, and courtesans." " Chronique du Cha- pitre de Neuchastel."

' " All the garrison were given over

to the provost-marshal, who, without pity or mercy, caused them to be hanged on the nearest trees by three executioners, to the number of 400 or thereabout, and the rest were drowned in the lake." Molinet, i. 191.

' Three hundred men of Berne and a hundred of Neufchatel assembled to march to the relief of Granson, but

6 COMMINES

was ready to march, they received advice that the garrison had all been put to the sword.

The Duke of Burgundy, contrary to the opinion of his officers, resolved to advance and meet the enemy at the foot of the mountains, to his great disadvantage ; for he was already posted in a place much more proper for an engagement, being fortified on one side with his artillery, and on the other by a lake, so that in all appearance there was no fear of his being injured by the enemy. He had detached a hundred of his archers to secure a certain pass at the entrance of the moun- tains,* and was advancing forward himself, when the Swiss attacked him, while the greatest part of his army was still in the plain. The foremost troops designed to fall back ; but the infantry that were behind, supposing they were running away, retreated toward their camp, and some of them behaved themselves handsomely enough ; but, in the end, when they arrived in their camp, they wanted courage to make a stand and defend themselves, and they all fled, and the Swiss pos- sessed themselves of their camp, in which were all their artil- lery, a vast number of tents and pavilions, besides a great deal of valuable plunder, for they saved nothing but their lives. ^ The duke lost all his finest rings, but of men, not above seven men at arms ; the rest fled, and the duke with them. It may more properly be said of him, " That he lost his honor and his wealth in one day," than it was of King John of France, who, after a brave defence, was taken prisoner at the battle of Poictiers.

This was the first misfortune that ever happened to the Duke of Burgundy in his whole life : for by the rest of his enterprises he always acquired either honor or advantage. But what a mighty loss did he sustain that day by his perverseness and scorn of good advice ! How greatly did his family suffer ! In what a miserable condition it is at present ! And how like to continue so! How many great princes and states became his enemies, and openly declared against him, who but the day before the battle were his friends, or at least pretended to be so! And what was the cause of this war? A miserable

finding it impossible to penetrate the he received supplies of provisions for

Burgiindian lines, they " returned home his army. Molinct. i. loi.

groaning." " Chronique de Neuchas- ^ This rout took place on the even-

tel." ing of March 3, 14-6. ■* The Castle of Bomacourt. by wl'.ich

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY 7

cart-load of sheep-skins that the Count of Romont had taken from a Swiss, in his passage through his estates. If God Al- mighty had not forsaken the Duke of Burgundy, it is scarce conceivable he would have exposed himself to such great dangers upon so small and trivial an occasion ; especially con- sidering the offers the Swiss had made him, and that his con- quest of such enemies would yield him neither profit nor honor ; for at that time the Swiss were not in such esteem as now, and no people in the world could be poorer. A gentleman, who had been one of their first ambassadors to the Duke of Burgundy, told me that one of his chief arguments to dissuade the duke from invading them, was that there was nothing for him to gain from them ; for their country was barren and poor, and he believed that, if all his countrj^men were taken prisoners, all the money they could raise for their ransom would not buy spurs and bridles for his army.

But to return to the battle; the King had many spies and scouts abroad about the country (most of them despatched by my orders), and it was not long before he received an account of this defeat, at which he was extremely pleased, and if he was grieved at anything, it was because so few of the enemy had been slain. The King, for his better intelligence, and to countermine the duke's designs, had removed to Lyons ; and being a prince of great wisdom and penetration, he was afraid lest the duke should, by force of arms, annex Switzerland to his own dominions. The house of Savoy was at the Duke of Burgundy's absolute disposal. The Duke of Milan was his ally.^ King Rene of Sicily intended to deliver Provence into his hands ; so that if his affairs had been crowned with success, he would have been lord of all the countries from the Western to the Eastern sea, and the people of France could not have stirred out of the kingdom by land without the duke's permis- sion, if he had possessed Savoy, Provence, and Lorraine. To every one of these princes the King now sent ambassadors. The Duchess of Savoy was his sister,'^ but in the duke's inter- est ; the King of Sicily was his uncle,^ yet he was exceedingly

' A treaty between the Duke of Bur- married Amadeus IX, Duke nf Savoy,

gundy and the Duke of Milan had been in 1452, became a widow on March 28,

concluded at Moncalier on January 30, 1472, and died on August 29, 1478.

1475. ^ He was brother of Marie of Anjou,

' Yolande de France, sister of Louis the mother of Louis XT. XI, was born on September 23, 1434,

8 COMMINES

cautious of receiving his ambassadors, and when he did, he referred all to the Duke of Burgundy. The King also sent to the German confederates, but with some difficulty ; for the roads being blocked up, he was forced to employ mendicants, pilgrims, and such kind of people. The confederate towns replied somewhat haughtily : " Tell your King (said they), if he does not declare for us, we will patch up a peace with the duke, and declare against him ! " And the King was afraid they would have done so.^ However, as yet he had no in- clination to declare war against the duke, and was very fearful he might hear of his secret negotiations with these countries.

But let us now take a view of the sudden alteration of affairs after this battle, how negotiations were set on foot, and with what prudence and judgment our King managed his affairs ; for it may serve as a fair example to such young princes, who foolishly undertake enterprises, without any fore- sight, without any experience, or without consulting such per- sons as are capable of advising them. The first step the Duke of Burgundy made, was to despatch the Lord of Contay to the King, with many submissive and friendly expressions, contrars' both to his temper and custom. See what a change one hour had made in him ! He entreated the King not to break the truce, excused himself for not having met his Alajesty at Auxerre according to the agreement between them, and assured the King that in a little time he would attend him there, or at any other place that his Majesty might be pleased to name. The King received his envoy very kindly, and promised to comply with his demands ; for he thought it not convenient to do otherwise at that juncture of time ; as his Majesty was aware of the loyalty and affection of the duke's subjects toward their Prince, and that by their assistance he would quickly be re- cruited ; and therefore he had a mind to see the end of the

Louis XI had made a treaty of alli- ance with the Emperor and the elec- tors in December, 1475. He confirmed it on April 17, 1476. This confirmation is probably what the confederate towns now demanded.

'" His subjects were, however, begin- ning to reject his demands. He assem- bled the estates of Franche-Comte at Salins, and stated his intention to levy an army of 40,000 men, and to impose a tax of one-fourth of their property on his subjects. In answer, the Estates declared that all they could offer him

was a force of 3,000 men, " to guard the country." The estates of Burgundy de- clared at Dijon that the war was utterly useless, and that they would not in- volve themselves in a groundless quar- rel, in which they could have no hope of success. And to crown all, the Flem- ings wrote to him that, if he were sur- rounded by the Swiss and Germans, and had not men enough to extricate him- self, they would come to his relief. See Michelet's " Louis XI, et Charles le Temeraire."

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY 9

war, without giving any occasion to either party of making a peace. But how kindly soever the Lord of Contay was en- tertained by the King, the people treated him with nothing but libels and lampoons ; and ballads were publicly sung in the streets, to extol the courage of the conquerors and to jeer at the conquered.

As soon as Galeas, who was Duke of Milan at that time, had received an account of this defeat, he was extremely pleased, notwithstanding his alliance with the duke; which alliance indeed was only the effect of fear, upon account of the great favor and interest which the Duke of Burgundy had in Italy. The Duke of Milan immediately sent a citizen of Milan to the King (a person of no promising aspect), who by the mediation of others was directed to me, and brought me letters from his master. I informed the King of his ar- rival, and his Majesty commanded me to receive his instruc- tions ; for he was not yet reconciled to the Duke of Milan, who had forsaken his alliance, and made a new one with the Duke of Burgundy, though he and the King had married two sisters.^ The design of his embassy was, to signify to the King that his master the Duke of Milan was informed that the King and the Duke of Burgundy had agreed upon an interview, in order to a final peace and alliance between them, which would be much to the prejudice of the duke his master ; and he urged several arguments (but of no great force) against it : but at last, in the conclusion of his speech, he told the King that, if he would promise to make no such truce or treaty with the Duke of Burgundy, the Duke of Milan would pay him immediately 100,000 ducats. After the King had heard the substance of his embassy, he ordered him to be brought into his presence, and (there being nobody there but myself) his Majesty spoke thus to him in short: "Here is M. d'Argen- ton, who has told me so and so; pray tell your master I will have none of his money, and that my yearly revenue is thrice as much as his. As for war or peace, I will act as I please. However, if he repents having left me to enter into a league with the Duke of Burgundy, I am content our old alliance shall be renewed and confirmed." The ambassador

1 The Duchess of Milan, Bona of Sa- tied Galeas Sforza, on May 9, 1468, and voy, was sister of Charlotte of Savoy, died in 1485, after a widowhood of nine the second wife of Louis XI. She mar- years.

lo COMMINES

returned the King most humble thanks ; and concluded by his answer that he was no covetous prince ; and entreated his Majesty that he would cause the said alliance to be published in the same form as before, for he was sufficiently empowered to promise that his master would do the same. The King consented, and after dinner it was proclaimed,^ and an am- bassador was immediately despatched from the King to Milan, where it was proclaimed with great pomp and solemnity. This was one of the Duke of Burgundy's first strokes of misfortune : and this was the first great man that abandoned his interest, who but three weeks before had sent a magnificent and solemn embassy to him to desire his alliance.

Rene, King of Sicily, had a design to make the Duke of Burgundy his heir, and to put Provence into his hand ; and accordingly the Lord of Chasteau-Guyon ^ (who is now in Pied- mont), and several other of the Duke of Burgundy's officers, were sent with 20,000 crowns to raise soldiers to take possession of Provence. But upon the news of this defeat, they had much ado to escape themselves, and the Count of Bresse seized upon their money. The Duchess of Savoy had received in- formation of it also, and sent immediately to the King of Sicily to extenuate the loss, and strengthen him in his alliance. But the messengers, who were natives of Provence, were ap- prehended, and by that means the treaty between the King of Sicily and the Duke of Burgundy was discovered. The King our master immediately sent a good body of troops toward Provence, and despatched ambassadors to the King of Sicily, to invite him to come to him, and to assure him he should be heartily welcome ; or otherwise his Majesty would be obliged to provide for his own safety by force of arms. The King of Sicily was persuaded to visit the King at Lyons, and was re- ceived with great honor and civility. I happened to be present at his arrival, and after their first compliments of salutation, John Cosse,* Seneschal of Provence (a person of honor, and of a noble family in the kingdom of Naples), addressed himself

^ This treaty between Louis XT and the enemy's ranks and nearly succeed-

the Duke of Milan was concluded on ed in taking their standard; but his

August 9, 1476. charge was unsupported, and therefore

^ Hugues de Chalon, Lord of Chas- unavailing.

teau-Guyon and Nozeroy, was the son * Jean, Lord of Cosse in Anjou, was

of Louis de Chalon, Prince of Orange, one of the councillors and chamber-

and Leonore d'Armagnac. He was a lains of King Rene, and Seneschal of

man of distinguished bravery. At the Provence, battle of Granson, he twice dashed amid

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY n

to the King- in the following manner : " Be not surprised, sire, if the King-, my master and your uncle, has oflfered to make the Duke of Burgundy his heir ; for it was the advice of his council (and particularly mine), upon this ground, that not- withstanding you were his nephew and sister's son, yet you had injuriously taken from him the castles of Bar and Angers, and used him unhandsomely in all his other affairs. We there- fore promoted this treaty with the Duke of Burgundy, that your Majesty being informed of it, might thereby be the better inclined to do us justice, and be put in mind that my master is your uncle. But, we never intended to bring that treaty to a conclusion."

The King took his speech very wisely and well; and he knew it was true, for M. Cosse was the person that man- aged the whole affair. In a few days after, all their dif- ferences were adjusted ; the King of Sicily and all his retinue were largely presented with money ; ^ and the King entertained him among the ladies, and treated him in every respect as he loved to be treated ; so that a perfect reconciliation took place between them, and no mention was made of the Duke of Burgundy, for not only King Rene but all his allies had abandoned him ; and this was another misfortune occasioned by his defeat. The Duchess of Savoy,*' who for a long time had been suspected to be her brother's enemy, sent a private messenger (called the Lord of Montaigny), who addressed himself to me, to endeavor her reconciliation, and to represent the reasons which had induced her to abandon the interest of the King her brother, and to state her doubts of the King. However, to speak impartially, she was a lady of great wisdom, and my master's true sister. She was unwilling to proceed to an open rupture with the Duke of Burgundy, but seemed desirous to temporize and to renew her friendship with the King. And she continued to send him news of the duke's adventures, that the King might treat her more favorably ; and he ordered me to despatch her envoy with all expedition, to give her good encouragement, and to invite her into France. Thus another of the Duke of Burgundy's confederates fell off from him, and endeavored to abandon his alliance. In Ger-

^ Louis XT undertook to pay Rene a * Yolande of France, Duchess of Sa-

pensionof 60.000 francs yearly during the voy, and sister to Louis XL remainder of liis life. Lenglet, iii. 392.

12

COMMINES

many they began universally to declare against the duke ; and several towns of the empire, as Nuremberg, Frankfort, and others, joined in a confederacy with the new and old allies of Switzerland against him ; and it seemed that whatever mischief could be done to him, was quite pardonable.

The poor Swiss were mightily enriched by the plunder of his camp.''' At first they did not understand the value of the treasure they were masters of, especially the common soldiers. One of the richest and most magnificent tents in the world was cut into pieces. There were some of them that sold quantities of dishes and plates of silver for about two sous of our money, supposing they had been pewter. His great diamond (perhaps the largest and finest jewel in Christen- dom), with a large pearl fixed to it, was taken up by a Swiss, put up again into the case, thrown under a wagon, taken up again by the same soldier, and after all offered to a priest for a florin, who bought it, and sent it to the magistrate of that country, who returned him three francs as a sufficient reward.^ They took also three very rich jewels, called the Three Broth- ers, another large ruby called La Hatte, and another called the Ball of Flanders, which were the fairest and richest in the world ; besides a prodigious quantity of other goods, which has since taught them what fine things may be purchased for money; for their victories, the esteem the King had of their

' The following is a list of the spoil taken by the Swiss at Granson, from Peignot's " Amusemens Philolo-

giques ":

" I. Five hundred pieces of heavy ar- tillery, with a quantity of ammunition, and abundance of provisions.

" 2. Four hundred tents of great rich- ness, fitted with silk and velvet, and with the duke's arms embroidered there- on in gold and pearls. Most of these were spoiled by the Swiss, who made them into clothes.

" 3. Six hundred banners and stand- ards; 300 helmets, 300 cwt. of gunpow- der; 3,000 sacks of barley; 2,000 baggage wagons; 2,000 barrels of herrings, and a quantity of other dried fish, and salted meat, geese, and fowls; and abundance of sugar, raisins, figs, almonds, and other things innumerable; and 8,000 spiked clubs.

"4. Four himdred pounds weight of silver plate, which was taken to Lu- cerne, and divided among the Swiss, to say nothing of that which was carried off by the soldiers.

" 5. Three hundred complete services of magnificent silver plate; and so great

a quantity of coined money that it was distributed by handfuls; four wagon- loads of crossbows and strings; and three wagon-loads of bed-linen.

" 6. The coffer containing the duke's archives, and his great diamond.

" 7. The duke's rosary, with the apos- tles in massive gold.

" 8. The duke's sword, adorned with seven large diamonds and as many ru- bies, with fifteen pearls of the size of a bean, and of the finest water; 160 pieces of cloth of gold and silk; with innu- merable relics in rich shrines; the duke's gilded chair, and his gold ring, and the ring of his brother Antony, and two large pearls set in gold, each as large as a nut.

" This famous diamond, called the Sancy diamond, was sold by the last- mentioned purchasers to M. de Dies- bach, for 5,400 Rhine florins; he sold it to a Genevese jeweller for 7,000 Rhine florins; it was next sold to the Duke of Milan for 11,000 ducats; then to Pope Julius for 20,000 ducats; and in 1835. it was purchased by Prince Demidoff for £20,000. It is said to weigh 53J grains.

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY 13

service afterward, and the presents he made them, have enriched them prodigiously.

The King made every one of their ambassadors that was sent in the first embassy to his Majesty very considerable presents in plate or money, by which means he pacified them for not openly declaring and entering into an alliance with them; and they returned with their purses well filled, and their persons clothed in silk, beside a promise of a pension of 40,000 florins of the Rhine (which he paid afterward, but he saw the event of a second battle first), 20,000 to the towns, and 20,000 to the governors of them.^ Nor should I tell an un- truth in saying, that from the battle of Granson to the death of our master, their towns and magistrates received of his Majesty above a million of Rhine florins ; and by the towns I mean only four, Berne, Lucerne, Friburg, Zurich, and their cantons, or mountains. Schwytz also is another of their cantons, though but a small village ; yet I have seen an ambassador of that village, who, though he was in a mean dress, yet gave his opinion with the others. The other cantons are Claris and Underwald.

But to return to the Duke of Burgundy's aflfairs. He assem- bled forces on all sides, and, in three weeks' time, he had as many as he had had in the late battle. His quarters were at Losanne, in Savoy,^° where you, my Lord of Vienne, attended him with your counsels in an illness, which melancholy and vexation for the dishonor he had sustained, had occasioned; and truly I am of opinion, that from the very day of his defeat, his understanding was never so good as it had been before. The account I give you of the great army he had assembled again, I received from the Prince of Tarento,^ who in my pres- ence made the same relation to the King. This prince had come to the duke's court about a year before, with a very splen- did equipage, in the hope of marrying his daughter, the heiress of Flanders. And, indeed, he appeared to be a king's son by the gracefulness of his person, and the splendor of his appear-

Of this sum, 9,000 francs were given * The principality of Tarentum was to certain private individuals, and the not actually conferred on Don Fred- remainder v.'as thus divided: 6,000 eric of Arragon until 1485, but he ap- francs to Berne, 3,000 to Lucerne, and pears to have enjoyed the titular dig- 2,000 to Zurich. Lenglet, iii. 379. nity for some time previously. He be-

'" The duke reached Lausanne on came King of Naples in 1496, and died

April 29, 1476, and remained there until on November 9, 1504. the twenty-seventh of May.

14

COMMINES

ance and retinue ; for his father, the King of Naples,^ had spared no cost to set him off. The Duke of Burgundy did but dissemble with him; for, at the same time, he was in treaty with the Duchess of Savoy for her son, beside others else- where. The Prince of Tarento (called Don Frederic of Arra- gon) and his council, growing weary of his delays, sent a herald, who was a clever person, to our King, to desire his Maj- esty to grant the prince a passport to return safely through his dominions into his own country, for his father had sent for him. The King granted it very willingly, because he believed it would redound to the Duke of Burgundy's dishonor, and would lessen his interest abroad. However, before the return of the messenger, the German confederates had taken the field, and lay encamped not far from the Duke of Burgundy.

The prince took his leave of the duke the night before the battle,^ in obedience to his father's command ; for in the first engagement he had given signal proofs of his valor. There are some (my Lord of Vienne) who affirm, that he left the army by your advice ; and I heard him say, upon his arrival at court, to the Duke of Astoly,* called the Count Julio, and to several others, that your lordship transmitted an account into Italy of all that happened both in the first and second battles, several days before they were fought.^

At the prince's departure, the confederates (as I said before) were encamped near the Duke of Burgundy, with a design to give him battle, and raise the siege of Morat, a small town near Berne, belonging to the Count of Romont. The confed- erates (as I was informed by those who were present in that action) might be about 30,000 foot, all choice troops and well armed; that is to say, 11,000 picked men, 10,000 halberdiers, and 10,000 musketeers, beside a body of 4,000 horse. The con- federate forces were not all arrived ; so that only those men- tioned above were in the engagement, and they were more than

- Ferdinand I, natural son of Alphon- so, King of Naples, succeeded his fa- ther in 1458, and died on January 25, 1494.

" C>n June 21, :476.

* According to some commentators, the person here referred to is the Duke of Ascoli, but as the name of that no- bleman was Orso Orsino, it is impos- sible that he can be identical with " Count Julio," who, as Commines tells us, possessed the dukedom in question.

It is more probable that our author al- ludes to Giulio Antonio Aquaviva, Duke of Atri, a distinguished statesman and warrior, known in Neapolitan history as " Count Giulio." The Duke of Atri, moreover, had been chosen by King Ferdinand to accompany Prince Fred- eric of Arragon on his visit to the Court of Burgundy.

' Angelo Catto was celebrated as a physician and astrologer.

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY 15

was necessary. The Duke of Lorraine arrived at their camp also with a small re-enforcement, which was of great advantage to him afterward, for the Duke of Burgundy was in possession of his whole dukedom. Nor was it to his prejudice that our court began to grow weary of him, though I believe he was never conscious of it himself. But when a great person has lost all, those that support and maintain him soon grow weary of him. The King gave him a small sum of money, and sent a strong party of troops with him through the duchy of Lor- raine, to conduct him safely into Germany, and then to return. The Duke of Lorraine had not only lost that country, but also the country of Vaudemont, and most part of Barrois (the rest being secured by the King, so that all was gone) ; and, which was worse, all his subjects, and even his domestics, had sworn allegiance to the Duke of Burgundy, and that voluntarily, with- out any compulsion; so that his condition seemed past recov- ery. However, in such cases God always remains judge and arbitrator, and decides such affairs according to his own pleas- ure.

When the Duke of Lorraine had passed through his own dominions, after several days' march, he arrived at the camp of the confederates not many hours before the engagement. Though he brought but few men, yet his arrival was much to his honor and advantage, for otherwise he would have had a poor reception. Just as he arrived, both armies were advanc- ing to engage ; for the allies had lain three days or more strongly encamped at a small distance from the Duke of Bur- gundy, whose army, after some small resistance, was entirely defeated and put to flight.*' Nor did he escape so well as in the first engagement : for the Swiss not having then a body of horse, he lost not above seven men at arms ; but at this battle of Morat they had 4,000 good horse, who pursued the Bur- gundians a great way, and cut off a considerable number of them. Beside their whole body of infantry was engaged with the duke's foot, who were very numerous ; for, beside his own subjects, and a considerable body of English, who were in his pay, he had great re-enforcements out of Piedmont and Milan,

Four years after the battle a chapel caesus, hoc sui Monumentum reliquit."

was erected on the field with this in- In 1822 a handsome stone obelisk was

scription: "Deo Optimo Maximo. In- set up, in a commanding position over-

clyti et fortissimi Burgundije Dncis Ex- looking the lake, also in commemora-

ercitus, Moratum obsidens, ab Helvetiis tion of this victory.

i6 COMMINES

as I said before. And when the Prince of Tarento was with the King, he told me he had never seen a finer army in his Ufe ; for, as they marched over a bridge, he caused them to be num- bered, and they amounted to 23,000 men in pay, beside those that belonged to the train of artillery, and followed the camp. To me this seems a very great number, yet there are some who make it much greater, and upon very slight grounds will multi- ply armies prodigiously.

The Lord of Contay arrived at our court not long after the battle, and owned in my presence, that the Duke of Burgundy lost in that battle 8,000 of his standing forces, beside those that followed the camp ; and, by the best information I could get, I presume that the number of the slain in all, might amount to near 18,000 men; which is not at all improbable, if we con- sider the great bodies of horse that the princes of Germany had there, and the vast number of those that were slain in the duke's camp before Morat. The duke fled himself as far as Bur- gundy, in great disconsolateness, and not without reason ; he stopped at a place called La Riviere," where he rallied what forces he could. The Germans pursued only that night, and then gave over the chase, without following him any farther.

This defeat drove the Duke of Burgundy almost to despair ; for by what he had observed since his first loss at Granson, he perceived all his friends and allies were resolved to abandon him ; and his defeat at Granson happened not above three weeks previously.^ In this apprehension, by the advice of some peo- ple, he caused the Duchess of Savoy and one of her sons, who is now Duke of Savoy,'' to be brought into Burgundy by force. Her eldest son at that time was saved by some of the servants belonging to the family ; for those who committed this act of violence did it in fear, and were obliged to use more haste than was convenient. That which moved the duke to this exploit, was a suspicion lest she should retire to the King her brother, though, as he pretended, all this misfortune was caused him by his great affection to the house of Savoy. The duke ordered

^ La Riviere is a small town in the nineteen days before that of Morat.

arrondissement of Pontarlier, in the de- The former was fought on the third of

partment of Doubs. The duke arrived March, and the latter on June 22, 1476.

there on the twenty-second of July. » Charles I, born on March 29, 1408,

Lenglet, ii. 220. succeeded his brother Philibert in 1482.

'This is a mistake; the battle of He married Blanche of Montferrat, and

Granson occurred three months and died on March 13, 1489.

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY

17

her to be conducted to the Castle of Rouvre/" near Dijon, and placed some small guard about her, but whoever had a mind had liberty to visit her. Among the rest, the Lord of Chasteau- Guyon and the Marquis of Rotelin came to w^ait on her High- ness, between whom and two of her daughters the duke had treated of marriage, though at that time neither of them had been concluded, but both have been since. Her eldest son Philibert, at that time Duke of Savoy, was conveyed to Cham- bery by those who contrived his escape,^ at which place he found the Bishop of Geneva, who was a son of the house of Savoy, but a very headstrong man, and governed wholly by a Commander de Ranvers.^ With this bishop and his governor, the Commander de Ranvers, the King managed affairs so art- fully, that the Duke of Savoy and a younger brother of his,^ called the prothonotary, with the castles of Chambery and Montmeillan,* were delivered into his Majesty's hands ; and he already had another castle in his possession, in which were all the jewels belonging to the duchess.

As soon as the duchess found, upon her arrival at Rouvre, that she was attended by her whole train of maids of honor and a host of other servants, as I said before ; and observed the Duke of Burgundy wholly intent upon raising men, and that her guards did not retain that dread and awe of their master which they formerly had, she resolved to send to her brother the King, to propose a peace and beg his assistance; yet she would have been unwilling to have put herself into his power, had she been in any other place but where she was, for there had been a great long-standing quarrel between them. The duchess sent a gentleman of Piedmont, named Riverol,^ who was steward of her house, and had instructions to apply to me. As soon as I had received his message, and communicated it to

1" In the department of the Cote-d'Or. This expedition was intrusted to Oliver de la Marche, who had to answer for its performance with his head. See his Memoirs.

^ Geoflfroi, Lord of Riverol, a Pied- montese gentleman, rescued the duke from the hands of those who had seized him. Louis de Villette, a gentleman of Savoy, saved his brother.

^ Jean de Montchenu, Commander of Saint Antoine de Ranvers, became Bishop of Agen in 1477, and was trans- lated to the see of Vivier in 1478. In previous editions, he has been errone- ously termed a commander of Rhodes.

2

'Jacques Louis de Savoie, Count of Geneva and Marquis de Gex. He died at Turin on July 27, 1485, without issue.

•* " The Bishop of Geneva forced the governor of Montmeillan to surrender the place, wherein were all the treasures and jewels of the Regent." Guichenon, ii. 143. This must, therefore, be the cas- tle to. which Commines refers in the suc- ceeding paragraph.

^ Geoffroi de Riverol, mentioned in a preceding note. The duchess had pre- viously sent her secretary Cavorret to the King; but Louis XI had put him in arrest because he was dressed in the Burgundian fashion.

i8 COMMliNES

the King, his Majesty ordered him to be introduced into his presence ; and after he had given him audience, he told him that he would not abandon his sister in this extremity, notwith- standing the differences that had been between them ; and if she would trust to him, he would send the governor of Champagne, who was then Charles d'Amboise, Lord of Chaumont, to fetch her.

M. Riverol took his leave of the King, and posted with all speed to his mistress with the news. The duchess was over- joyed to hear it, yet she immediately sent another agent to the King, to desire his Majesty would give his word that she should have liberty to return into Savoy whenever she pleased, and that he would restore to her not only the duke her son and his young brother, but the castles and places which he had seized upon, and would defend and maintain her authority in Savoy ; and then she would renounce all other alliances, and keep her- self entirely in his interest. The King promised to grant all she desired, and immediately despatched an express to the Lord of Chaumont to go and deliver her ; which was well attempted, and as well performed; for the Lord of Chaumont, with a strong detachment,® went to Rouvre, without the least disorder or damage to the country through which he marched, and brought away the Duchess of Savoy and her whole train to the next garrison belonging to the King. When the King despatched this last message to the Duchess of Savoy, his Maj- esty had left Lyons, where he had sojourned full six months, on purpose to defeat and countermine the designs of the Duke of Burgundy, without violating the truce ; and if we seriously consider the posture of the duke's affairs, we shall see that the King was a greater enemy to him in not opposing him openly, but creating him new enemies underhand, than if he had de- clared open war against him ; for upon such a declaration, the duke would have abandoned his rash enterprises and designs, and that would not have occurred which happened to him after- ward.

The King having left Lyons, continued his journey directly to Rouanne, from whence he came down the River Loire to Tours. Upon his arrival there, his Majesty received the news

Oliver de la Marche says that the Lord of Chaumont took with him 200 lances.

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY

19

of his sister's deliverance, at which he was extremely pleased, and sent an express immediately to direct her to come to him, and ordered a sum of money to be remitted to defray the ex- pense of her journey. When the King was informed of her approach, he sent several persons of quality to meet her, and went himself as far as the gate of Plessis-du-Parc, where he received her with abundance of tenderness and civility, and saluted her thus, " My Lady of Burgundy, you are heartily welcome." She knew well by his countenance that he was in a merry humor, and replied very prudently, *' that she was no Burgundian, but a true French woman, and ready to obey him in whatever he might command." The King conducted her to her apartment, and entertained her with great splendor ; but the truth is he was very desirous to be rid of her, and she being a cunning woman, and understanding his temper perfectly well, was even more desirous to be gone than he was to have her go. The management of this whole affair was committed to me, and the King ordered me to supply her with money during her stay at court, to provide for her return, to furnish her wardrobe with silks, and to draw up the form of their alliance for the time to come. The King used his utmost endeavors to break off the matches that I mentioned before, but she excused her- self, and pretended that the affections of her daughters were so far engaged, that it would be impossible to break them off; and when the King found that, he pressed it no further.

After the duchess had been at Plessis about seven or eight days, the King and her Highness entered into a mutual oath of amity for the future, and instruments to that purpose were interchangeably delivered : '^ after which she took her leave, and the King ordered her to be conducted safely into her own country ; and her children, castles, jewels, and whatever be- longed to her besides, were punctually restored to her. Both were extremely pleased to be rid of one another upon such handsome terms ; and ever after they continued very good friends, as a brother and sister ought to do.

But to continue the chief subject of these " Memioirs," we are obliged to return to the Duke of Burgundy, who, after his de- feat at Morat (in the year 1476). had fled to a town called La

^ These papers are dated November 2, and her son apainst the attacks and 1476. The King thereby pledged his pretensions of Charles of Burgundy, word to defend and support his sister

20 COMMINES

Riviere, at the entrance into Burgundy, where he lay six weeks, under pretence of raising men to recruit his army ; but he pro- ceeded very slowly in that affair, and instead of being active and vigorous, he lived like a hermit, and all his actions seemed rather the effect of sullenness and obstinacy than anything else, as will appear by what follov^^s.

His concern and grief for his first defeat at Granson was so great, and made such a deep impression on his spirits, that it threw him into a violent and dangerous fit of sickness; for whereas before, his choler and natural heat were so great that he drank no wine, but only in a morning took a little tisane, and ate conserve of roses, to refresh himself ; this sudden mel- ancholy had so altered his constitution, that he now drank the strongest wine that could be got, without any water at all ; and to reduce the rush of blood to his heart, his physicians were obliged to apply cupping-glasses with burning tow to his side. But this (my Lord of Vienne) you know better than I, for your lordship attended on him during the whole course of his ill- ness, and it was by your persuasion that the duke was prevailed upon to cut his beard, which was of a prodigious length. In my opinion his understanding was never so perfect, nor his senses so sedate and complete, after this fit of sickness, as before. So violent are the passions of men unacquainted with adversity, who never seek the true remedy for their misfor- tunes, especially princes, who are naturally haughty : for in such cases our best method is to have recourse to God, to reflect on the many vile transgressions by which we have offended his divine goodness, to humble ourselves before him, and to make an acknowledgment of our faults : for he determines all things as it seems best to his heavenly wisdom, and who dare question the justness of his dispensations, or impute any error to him? It is also well to unbosom ourselves freely to some intimate friends, not to keep our sorrows concealed, but to expatiate on every circumstance of them, without being ashamed or reserved ; for this mitigates the rigor of our mis- fortunes, revives the heart, and restores their usual vigor and activity to our dejected spirits. There is another remedy also, and that is labor and exercise (for as we are but men, these sorrows cannot be dissipated without great pains and applica- tion, both in public and private), which is a much better course

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY

21

than that which the duke took in hiding himself, and retiring from all manner of company ; for by that means he grew so terrible to his own servants, that none of them durst venture to come near him to give him either counsel or comfort, but suf- fered him to go on in that melancholy state of life, fearing lest their advising him to the contrary might have turned to their destruction.

During these six weeks (or thereabouts) that he lay at La Riviere with very few troops (nor was it to be wondered at, after the loss of two such great battles as you have heard before), many declared themselves openly against him, his friends were grown cold, his subjects were defeated and rebel- lious, and began (as is usual) to murmur and contemn their master on account of his misfortunes. He lost several little towns in Lorraine, as Vaudemont, Espinal, and others. All the neighboring States began to make preparations to invade him ; and the vilest and most insignificant of them were now the most forward in doing him mischief. The Duke of Lorraine (upon this report) assembled a small body of forces, and besieged Nancy ; * the small towns about it were most of them in his possession already ; but the Duke of Burgundy was master of Pont-a-Mousson, about four leagues off. Among those that were besieged in Nancy, there was a gentleman of the house of Croy, called the Lord of Bievres,® a good officer, and a person of honor, whose forces were made up out of several countries. There was also an Englishman called Colpin, a brave soldier (though of no great birth), who with other officers belonging to the garrison of Guynes, had entered the service of the Duke of Burgundy. This Colpin had the command of about 300 English in the town, and though they were not pressed either by approaches or batteries,^" they began to be uneasy at the duke's slowness in marching to their relief : ^ and indeed he

* The garrison of Nancy consisted of about 1,000 or 1,200 Burgundian troops. Duke Rene laid siege to the town on September 15, 1476.

* Jean de Rubempre, Lord of Bievre, was appointed Bailiff of Hainault in 1473, and created a knight of the Gold- en Fleece in 1475. He was killed in the battle of Nancy.

"Molinet (i. 208) says: "The be- sieged ran so short of provisions that they were glad to eat horse-flesh. The townspeople were so false and disloyal to them, that if the captains had made

a sortie, they would not have been ad- mitted again into the town. And fur- thermore, two bombards, one culverin, and several serpentines, were continu- ally firing on them, as many as twenty- one shots a day, by which means a gate was broken through, and the dilapidated wall was razed to the ground.

1 The Lord of Fay, Lieutenant of Luxembourg, collected a body of forces, and marched with the Count of Campobasso to the relief of Nancy. But instead of proceeding thither at once, they spent a considerable time in de-

22 COMMINES

was highly to blame ; for the quarters where he lay were at so great a distance from Lorraine, that he could do them no service, and certainly it would have been better for him to have defended what was left, than to have meditated revenge on the Swiss for what he had lost. But his perverseness in following no counsel but his own, turned greatly to his disadvantage ; for notwithstanding that he was daily pressed to relieve that place, yet he continued (without any necessity) at La Riviere full six weeks; whereas if he had done otherwise, he might easily have raised the siege of Nancy, for the Duke of Lor- raine's forces were not numerous,^ and so long as the country of Lorraine was in his possession, he had free communication between his other territories (through Luxembourg and Lor- raine) into Burgundy ; so that if his intellects had been as right and his judgment as sound as they were formerly, he would certainly have marched with greater expedition to their relief.

While the garrison of Nancy lay in continual expectation of being relieved, it happened that the above-mentioned Colpin, who commanded the English troops in the town, was killed by a cannon-ball; his death was a vast prejudice to the Duke of Burgundy's concerns, for a prince very often is preserved from great inconveniences by the management of one single person, provided he has wisdom and valor, although his ex- traction be mean ; and in this particular I knew no man more careful than our master, for certainly never prince was more fearful of losing his men than his Majesty. Upon the death of Colpin, the English under his command began to murmur and despair of relief. They were not aware of the Duke of Lorraine's weakness, and that the Duke of Burgundy had many ways of re-enforcing his army ; and besides, the English, not having been abroad for a long time, had but little experience in foreign wars, and were wholly ignorant in regard to a siege. In short, they mutinied for a composition, and plainly told the governor, M. de Bievres, that if he would not consent to a capitulation, they would make one without him. Though Bievres was a good knight, yet he wanted courage and resolu-

ciding on the route they should take, Morat, so that, says Molinet, " their

and in waiting for re-enforcements. succor, which should have been prompt

This delay arose chiefly from their ex- and zealous, was very tardy and unwill-

pectation that they would get but little ingly given."

booty in Lorraine; and their allegiance ^According to Molinet (i. 207) the

to IJuke Charles had been greatly duke had 10,000 Swiss, horse and foot, shaken by his defeats at Granson and

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY

23

tion. He remonstrated, entreated, and begged of them to have a little patience ; whereas, in my opinion, if he had hectored, and carried matters with an air of greater authority and reso- lution, he had succeeded better ; but God had ordered it other- wise: for had they held out but three days longer, the Duke of Burgundy would have certainly raised the siege. But, in short, the governor complied with the English, and the town was surrendered ^ to the Duke of Lorraine, upon condition of saving their goods and sparing their persons.

The next day, or at furthest two days after the surrender, the Duke of Burgundy appeared with a very good army, con- sidering his condition, for several of his own subjects had marched up through the province of Luxembourg to join him. The Duke of Lorraine and he faced one another,* but no action of importance happened between them, the Duke of Lorraine being too weak to attempt anything. The Duke of Burgundy, in his old obstinate way, was resolved to besiege Nancy again,^ though it had been much wiser in him not to have undertaken it at that time ; but when God is pleased to change the fortune of princes, he puts these obstinate inclinations into them. Had the Duke of Burgundy been persuaded to have garrisoned the little places about the town, as he was advised, he would quickly have reduced it to great straits, and would have forced it to surrender in a short time, for it was but ill-provided with pro- visions, and the multitude in the town would have presently distressed it ; while he would have had time to recruit his army, and put them into quarters of refreshment ; but he took quite another course.

While the Duke of Burgundy was pushing on the siege of Nancy (so unfortunately for himself, his subjects, and many others who were not at all concerned in his quarrel), many of his own party began to enter into a conspiracy against him, and new enemies, as you have heard, surrounded and invaded him on all sides. Among the rest there was the Count Nicolo Campobasso, of the Kingdom of Naples, who had been banished from thence for espousing the interest of the house of Anjou,^

' On October 6, 1476. jou to the Kingdom of Naples date

* On October loth the Duke of Bur- from the will of Joan I, Queen of Na-

gundy came up with Duke Rene at pies, made on June 23, 1380, in favor of

Pont-a-Mousson. Lenglet, ii. 220. Louis I, Duke of Anjou, and brother of

^ (^n October 22, 1476. King Charles VI of France.

° The pretensions 01 the house of An-

24 COMMINES

and whom, after the death of Nicholas, Duke of Calabria, the Duke of Burgundy had entertained in his service, with several other of the Duke of Calabria's servants. This count was very poor, both in money and lands-; at his first coming to him, the Duke of Burgundy gave him 40,000 ducats in ready money, to raise a troop in Italy, which was to consist of 400 lances, and to be commanded and paid by himself. From that very mo- ment, as I said before, he began to form designs against the life of his master, and continued to carry on his secret practices to the time of which I am now speaking ; for, finding his mas- ter's power declining, he began to practise underhand with the Duke of Lorraine, and such of the King's officers and servants in Champagne as were not far from the Duke of Burgundy's army. His first proposal to the Duke of Lorraine was, to delay the siege of Nancy, by not taking care to provide a sufficient quantity of provisions and ammunition, so that the army would be unable to carry it on for want of necessaries ; and, indeed, it was no hard matter for him to do this, for he was intrusted with this charge, and had the greatest influence with the duke his master. With our officers he dealt more freely, and prom- ised to take or kill the Duke of Burgundy, provided he were continued in the command of his 400 lances upon the same foot- ing as before, and had 20,000 crowns and a good county in France beside.

While he was driving his bargains after this manner, several of the Duke of Lorraine's officers attempted to throw them- selves into the town ; some of them got in, but others were taken, and among the rest one Cifron,'^ a gentleman of Prov- ence, who had managed the whole affair between Campobasso and the Duke of Lorraine. The Duke of Burgundy immedi- ately commanded this Cifron to be hanged, affirming that when a prince has once invested a town, and erected batteries to play upon it, if any endeavored to re-enforce and strengthen the garrison they were condemned to death by the laws of war. However, this was not practised in our wars, which, in other respects, are much more cruel than those of Italy or Spain, where that custom prevails. But, right or wrong, this gentle- man was to die by the Duke of Burgundy's express order. The gentleman, finding that his death was inevitable, sent to ac-

^ Suffron de Bachier, councillor and steward to King Rene.

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25

quaint the duke that, if he pleased but to admit him to his pres- ence, he would make a discovery of something that nearly con- cerned his person. Some gentlemen who heard his proposal, brought the news of it to the duke at a time when the Count of Campobasso was with him, either by accident, or else on purpose, having intelligence that Cifron was taken, and fear- ing he would discover all he knew ; for he knew the whole intrigue from one end to the other, and that was the secret he would have discovered to the duke.

The duke answered those that brought him this message, that it was only an artifice to gain time, and that if he had anything to discover, he might tell it to them. The Count of Campobasso highly applauded this answer, there being only himself, who was the chief commander in the army, and a secretary that was writing, then present. The prisoner sent word again, that he could discover it to nobody but the duke himself; upon which the duke ordered him to be carried to execution immediately, and his orders were obeyed. As he was going to the place of execution, Cifron entreated sev- eral to intercede with the duke to save his life, and he would discover a secret that was of greater importance to him than the best province in his dominions. Several of his acquaintance had compassion on him, and went to desire the duke that, for their sake, he would vouchsafe to admit him into his presence ; but this treacherous count stood at the door of the wooden house in which the duke lodged, refused them entrance, and told them, " The duke commands that he be immediately exe- cuted," * and sent messengers on purpose to hasten the provost ; so that finally poor Cifron was hanged, to the unspeakable prejudice of the Duke of Burgundy, for whom it had been much better to have treated this unfortunate gentleman with more humanity, and heard what he had to say ; for then, perhaps, he might have been alive to this day, and his house in a more flourishing condition, considering what occurrences had hap- pened since in this kingdom.

But we have reason to believe that God had otherwise or- dained it, as a punishment for his late disloyalty to the Count

* According to the Chronicle of Lor- duke, " who was armed, and had his

raine, Campobasso acted in just the op- gauntlets on, raised his hand, and

posite way. He undertook the defence knocked the count down." Calmet, vii.

of Suffron so strenuously that the ii8.

26 COMMINES

of St. Paul, constable of France, of which you have heard else- where in these " Memoirs " ; how he seized upon his person, contrary to his solemn promise and engagement, delivered him to the King to be put to death, and sent all his letters and con- tracts to serve as an evidence against him at his trial. And though the duke had just reason to bear a mortal hatred against the constable, and to pursue him even to death, yet he should have done it without breaking his faith ; nor can all the rea- sons that could be alleged in this case extenuate the crime, or cover the dishonor that will always be a stain and blot on the duke's character ; for notwithstanding the safe-conduct and protection that he granted the constable, he yet seized upon him afterward, and sold him for covetousness, not only to obtain the town of St. Ouentin and other fortresses, inheri- tances and movables belonging to the constable, but also in the hope of taking Nancy the first time he besi.eged it ; for after many excuses and dissimulations he delivered up the con- stable, for fear that the King's army in Champagne might interrupt his enterprise; his Majesty having threatened to do so by his ambassadors, unless he should perform his articles, by which the first that took the constable was obliged to de- liver him up within eight days, or to see him executed himself. But the duke had deferred his surrender for several days longer than was agreed upon between them ; and the fear of being called to account for this, and of being interrupted in the siege of Nancy, prevailed with him to deliver up the constable, as you have heard.

And it is worthy of our observation, that as, in his first siege of Nancy, he was guilty of that dishonorable action toward the constable ; and in his second, he ordered Cifron to be hanged ( for he would not hear him, like a person whose under- standing v^^as infatuated, and his ears stopped to his own ruin) so, in the same place he was deceived and betrayed himself by the very person in whom he reposed most confidence (and not altogether unjustly, if we reflect upon what has been said before), both in regard to the constable and Nancy. But the determination of such events depends only upon God ; and I have given my opinion only to illustrate my proposition, that a good prince ought never to consent to such a base and igno- minious action, whatsoever plausible reasons may be urged in

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY 27

vindication of it ; for it often happens that those who give their advice in such an affair do it either out of flattery, or fear of contradicting their prince, though, when the thing is done, they are heartily sorry for it, knowing how liable they are to be punished in this world and the next ; however, such counsellors as these are better far off, than near any prince.

Thus you have seen how God, the sole Governor of human affairs, raised up the Count of Campobasso to be the instru- ment of his vengeance in the case of the constable, in the same place, and after the same manner, but with more circumstances of cruelty ; for he betrayed the very person who had enter- tained him in his service when he was old, poor, and friendless, and had given him an annual sum of 10,000 ducats, with which to pay his soldiers, beside other posts of great advantage. And, when he first began his conspiracy he was on his journey into Italy with 40,000 ducats to raise his regiment ; and yet, in that very journey, he made overtures in two several places, first, to a physician at Lyons, called Simon of Pavia, next, to another person in Savoy, as you have already heard; and at his return with his regiment, being quartered in certain small towns in the county of Marie in Lannois, he fell to his old practices, and offered to deliver up all the towns he held ; or, if that were not sufficient, if the King would but face his master, and pretend to give him battle, when they were drawn up, and ready to engage, upon a signal to be agreed on between the King and him, he would come over to him and join his Maj- esty's army with the troops under his command ; but the King was not pleased with this last overture by any means. He offered, likewise, the first time his master lay in the field, either to take him prisoner, or kill him, as he was reviewing his army ; and indeed he might easily have done it ; for the duke's custom was, as soon as he was alighted from his horse, at the place where his army was to encamp, to pull off the rest of his armor, and with his cuirass only, to mount upon a little palfrey, and, attended only by eight or ten archers on foot, or two or three gentlemen of his bedchamber, to ride about the army, and see that it was strongly enclosed ; so that with a small party of ten horse, the count might have performed this execrable action without much difficulty.

The King, observing the restless rialice of this man against

28 COMMINES

his master, and that he was conspiring against him even during the time of the truce between them, and being not well in- formed of the object of these overtures, resolved upon showing a singular piece of friendship and generosity to the Duke of Burgundy, and sent him in writing, by the Lord of Contay (whom I have so often mentioned in these " Memoirs "), the whole progress of the count's conspiracy. I was present at the delivery of the letters, and I am sure the Lord of Contay ac- quitted himself faithfully to his master ; but the duke would give no credit to his information, and said, that if there was any truth in it, the King would never have communicated it. This was long before the duke's arrival before Nancy, and I verily believe he never took any notice of it to the count, for he continued his old practices afterward.

But now to proceed with our principal subject. You must know that the Duke of Burgundy besieged Nancy in the depth of winter, with a small army which was ill-provided and ill-paid. Several of his officers had entered into a conspiracy against him, and there was a general mutiny among the common sol- diers, who censured and despised all his enterprises ; which, as I have observed at large before, is the common fate in times of adversity ; but nobody practised against his person and do- minions except the Count of Campobasso, for his subjects were all loyal to him. The Duke of Burgundy being in this miserable condition, the Duke of Lorraine treated with the old and new allies ® (whom I have mentioned before) for a supply of troops to enable him to give the duke battle, and raise the siege of Nancy. They all readily consented, and every town furnished him with a body of troops, so that now his only want was money for their subsistence. The King by his ambassadors in Switzerland encouraged him extremely in this enterprise, and remitted him 400,000 francs to pay his Swiss : and the Lord of Craon, the King's lieutenant in Champagne, was quar- tered in Barrois with a body of 700 or 800 lances and frank- archers, commanded by experienced officers. The Duke of Lor- raine, by help of the King's favor and money, assembled a good body of Swiss, both horse and foot ; for, beside the troops

Oliver de la Marche (ii. 420) also money to obtain their assistance, that

states that " the Duke of Lorraine in- they might do to the Duke of Bur-

trigued with the Swiss to induce them gundy that which he did not dare to

to come to Nancy; and the King of undertake himself." France secretly furnished him with

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY

29

that were in his own pay, they furnished him with some at their own expense. He had also many French volunteers, and the King's army (as you have already heard) was quartered in Barrois, not with a design to commit any act of hostility, but only to wait the issue of a battle, which was every day expected ; for tlie Duke of Lorraine had marched with his Germans to St. Nicholas," not far from Nancy.

The King of Portugal ^ had now been in France for nine months or thereabouts ; for our King, being in an alliance with him against the King of Castile,^ the King of Portugal flattered himself that he would assist him with a powerful army to make war upon his adversary on the side of Biscay or Navarre, for he had several towns in Castile, upon the frontiers of Portugal, and some upon our borders, as the Castle of Burgos, and others ; so that I am of opinion, if our King had assisted him, as he was sometimes inclined to do, the King of Portugal might have succeeded in his designs ; but, by de- grees, the King's mind changed, and the King of Portugal was amused with fair words, and fed with hopes, for a year or more.

In the meantime the King of Portugal's affairs in Castile began to decline : for, when he came into France, almost all the nobility of Castile were in his interest ; but his long stay in France tired their patience, and they began to grow weary, and made their peace with Ferdinand and Isabella, who now reign. The King of France indeed had promised to assist him, but he excused himself afterward upon account of the war in Lorraine, pretending that if the Duke of Burgundy prevailed, he feared that he would afterward invade his dominions. The King of Portugal, who was a very good and just prince, took a fancy to pay a visit to the Duke of Burgundy, who was his cousin-german,^ and to try whether his good offices could effect a pacification between the King and the duke, supposing that when this obstacle was removed, the King would certainly as-

On Saturday, January 4th, the Duke of Lorraine arrived at St. Nicholas with 10,500 Swiss." Molinet, i. 231. _

1 Alphonso V, surnamed the African, was the son of Duarte I, King of Por- tugal, and Eleanor of Arragon. He was born in 1432, and succeeded his father in 1438. He married his cousin Isabella, the daughter of Don Pedro; and he died on August 28, 1481. He was the first King of Portugal who possessed a private library.

* Ferdinand V, surnamed the Catho- lic, was the son of John, King of Na- varre and Arragon, and Juana Henri- quez. He was born on Marcli :o, 1452, and ascended the throne of Spain in 1474. His first wife was the celebrated Isabella of Castile. He died on January 23, 1516-

3 The mother of Duke Charles, Isa- bella of Portugal, was aunt to King Al- phonso V.

30

COMMINES

sist him ; for he was ashamed to return into Portugal or Castile without having been successful in his solicitations at our court, especially after coming thither in so imprudent a manner, and contrary to the opinion of the greatest part of his council.

With this design the King of Portugal began his journey toward the latter end of the winter, and being arrived at the Duke of Burgundy's camp before Nancy,* he began to discourse with him about what the King had told him in relation to a peace : but he found it would be no easy matter to accommodate things between them, their demands ran so high ; and there- fore he stayed but two days, before he took his leave of his cousin, and returned to Paris, The Duke of Burgundy pressed him to stay, and command the body of troops that were to defend the pass at Pont-a-Mousson, near Nancy, for he had received intelligence that the German army was posted at St. Nicholas. The King of Portugal excused himself, by saying that he was neither armed nor provided for such an enterprise ; and upon this he returned to Paris, where he had resided so long already. At last the King of Portugal grew suspicious of the King of France, and fancied his Majesty had a design to seize on him, and deliver him up to his enemy the King of Castile. Upon the strength of this imagination he put himself into a disguise and with two more in his company, resolved to go to Rome and enter some religious house : but he was taken in that disguise by a Norman called Robinet le Beuf ; ^ at which our King was extremely concerned, and being ashamed of what had passed, ordered several ships to be equipped on the coast of Normandy, and gave the command of them to Master George le Grec," with orders to conduct him safe into Portugal, which he performed accordingly.

The occasion of his war against the King of Castile was in favor of his sister's daughter,'^ which sister was wife to Don

* He arrived at the camp before Nan- cy on December 29. Lenglet, ii. 221.

° Robinet le Beuf, a Norman knight, from the neighborhood of Evreux, was valet de chambre to Louis XI in 1466. In 1471 he was appointed one of the gen- tlemen of the King's household, and held that office until 1488, when he was killed in the battle of Saint-Aubin-du- Cormier.

® In the letters of naturalization grant- ed to this person by Louis XI in 1477, he is designated as " George de Bici- pat, surnamed the Greek, knight, na-

tive of Greece, captain of our great ship and of our town and castle of Touque, and our well-beloved and trusty councillor and chamberlain." Pierre de Lailly mentions him as George Paleologo de Bicipat. In pre- vious editions of Commines he is er- roneously called George Leger.

' Juann, daughter of Henry IV, King of Castile, and Juana, Infanta of Por- tugal, was born in 1462. She was twice betrothed, first to the Duke of Guienne, and afterward to her uncle, Alphonso V. On November 15, 1480, slie took the

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY

31

Henry, late King of Castile,^ and had a beautiful daughter still living (but unmarried), in Portugal: but Queen Isabella,^ who was sister to the said King Henry, disputed the young lady's right of succession to the crown of Castile, pretending she was illegitimate, and born in adultery. Many others were of the same opinion, objecting impotence in King Henry, and proving it by arguments, which for certain reasons I shall here omit. However this may be, and though the young lady was born in wedlock, and under the veil of marriage, yet the Crown of Cas- tile was enjoyed by Queen Isabella of Castile, and her husband the King of Arragon and Sicily, who now reigns. The King of Portugal was very ambitious of making a match between his niece and our King Charles VHI, who is now reigning; and indeed that was the great design of his journey into France, which turned so much to his disadvantage, for not long after his return into Portugal he died. Wherefore (as I have already observed in the beginning of these " Memoirs "), it highly con- cerns a prince to be very careful in the choice of persons quali- fied to be sent on embassies to foreign courts ; for if those am- bassadors that came to our King from the King of Portugal upon the above-mentioned proposal, at which I was present by deputation from our King), had been as wise as they ought, they would have informed themselves better of our affairs be- fore they advised their master to undertake a journey which proved so disadvantageous and dishonorable to him.

I could willingly have omitted this relation of the King of Portugal's affairs, had it not been to show, that one prince ought not rashly to put himself into the power of another, nor go in person to solicit his own supplies. But to proceed with my history : The King of Portugal had not left the Duke of Burgundy's camp above a day, before the Duke of Lorraine and his army of Germans broke up from St. Nicholas, and advanced toward the Duke of Burgundy, with a resolution to give him battle. The Count of Campobasso joined them that very day, and carried off with him about eight score men at arms ; and it grieved him much that he could do his master no greater mischief. The garrison of Nancy had intelligence of his de- vows in the convent of Santa Clara at II, and Isabella of Portugal, was born Santarem, and she died at Alcacova in on April 23, 1451. In 1469 she married 1530- Ferdinand the Catholic, King of Arra-

* He died in 1474. gon, and she died on November 20,

° Isabella of Castile, daughter of Juan 1504.

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COMMINES

sign, which in some measure encouraged them to hold out; besides, another person had got over the works, and assured them of rehef, otherwise they were just upon surrendering, and would have capitulated in a little time, had it not been for the treachery of this count ; but God had determined to finish this mystery.

The Duke of Burgundy, having intelligence of the approach of the Duke of Lorraine's army, called a kind of council, con- trary to his custom, for generally he followed his own will. It was the opinion of most of his officers that his best way would be to retire to Pont-a-Mousson, which was not far off, and dispose his army in the towns about Nancy ; affirming, that as soon as the Germans had thrown a supply of men and provisions into Nancy, they would march off again ; and the Duke of Lorraine being in great want of money, it would be a great while before he would be able to assemble such an army again ; and that their supplies of provisions could not be so great but before half the winter was over, they would be in the same straits as they were now ; and that in the meantime the duke might raise more forces, and recruit himself ; for I have been told by those who ought to know best, that the Duke of Burgundy's army did not then consist of full 4,000 men/ and of that number not above 1,200 were in a condition to fight. Money he did not want ; for in the Castle of Luxem- bourg (which was not far off), there were in ready cash 450,000 crowns, which would have raised men enough. But God was not so merciful to him as to permit him to take this wise counsel, or discern the vast multitude of enemies who on every side surrounded him. Therefore he chose the worst plan, and like a rash and inconsiderate madman, resolved to try his fortune, and engage the enemy with his weak and shattered army,^ notwithstanding the Duke of Lorraine had a numerous force of Germans, and the King's army was not far off.

" His name was Thierry, a draper in the town of Mirecourt. Caimet, vii. 122.

* Oliver de la Marche (ii. 420) says he had not 2,000 fighting men.

- Before the battle, says Molinet (i. 229), he inquired how many men there were in his army. " The Count of Chimay, a very eloquent, wise, and dis- creet man, told him in gentle and ami- able language, that the captains had made inquiries, and that there were not more than 3,000 men in a condition to

fight. ' I deny what you say,' replied the duke, in great anger; ' but if [ were to fight alone I would fight all the same. You are what you are, and show clearly that you are sprung from the house of Vaudemont.' The count prudently and gently replied, that his deeds should show that he was sprung from an honorable line, and that, al- though he saw no chance of overcom- ing the enemy he would remain faith- ful to the duke."

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY 33

As soon as the Count of Campobasso arrived in the Duke of Lorraine's army, the Germans sent him word to leave the camp immediately, for they would not entertain such traitors among them. Upon which message he retired with his party to Conde,^ a castle and pass * not far off, where he fortified himself with carts and other things as well as he could, in hopes, that if the Duke of Burgundy were routed, he might have an opportunity of coming in for a share of the plunder, as he did afterward. Nor was this practice with the Duke of Lorraine the most execrable action that Campobasso was guilty of ; but, before he left the army, he conspired with several other officers (finding it was impracticable to attempt anything against the Duke of Burgundy's person) to leave him just as they came to the charge ; for, at that time, he supposed it would put the army into the greatest terror and consternation ; and if the duke fled, he was sure he could not escape alive, for he had ordered thirteen or fourteen sure men, some to run as soon as the Germans came up to charge them, and others to watch the Duke of Burgundy, and kill him in the rout; which was well enough contrived, for I myself have seen two or three of those who were thus employed to kill the duke. Having thus settled his conspiracy at home, he went over to the Duke of Lorraine upon the approach of the German army; but, finding they would not entertain him, he retired to Conde, as I said before.

The German army marched forward, and with them a considerable body of French horse, whom the King had given leave to be present in that action. Several parties lay in ambush not far off, that if the Duke of Burgundy were routed, they might surprise some person of quality, or take some con- siderable booty. By this every one may see into what a de- plorable condition this poor duke had brought himself, by his contempt of good counsel. Both armies being joined, the Duke of Burgundy's forces, which had been twice beaten before, and were weak and ill-provided besides, were quickly broken and entirely defeated. Many saved themselves by flight ; the rest were either taken or killed ; ^ and among them

3 Conde-Northen, or Contghen, in the = " In that battle were slain, among

arrondissement of Metz, and depart- others, the Lord of Bievre, the Lord

ment of Moselle. of Verun, and the Lord of Contay; and

* At the Pont de la Bussiere, half a among the prisoners were the Lord

league from Nancy. Molinet, i. 233. Anthony, Bastard of Burgundy, and his

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COMMINES

the Duke of Burgundy himself was killed on the spot.® Not having been in the battle myself, I will say nothing of the manner of his death ; but I was told by some, that they saw him beaten down, but, being prisoners themselves, were not able to assist him ; yet, while they were in sight, he was not killed, but a great body of men coming that way afterward, they killed and stripped him in the throng, not knowing who he was. This battle was fought on January 5, 1476, upon the eve of Twelfth-day.

I saw a seal ring of his, after his death, at Milan, with his arms cut curiously upon a sardonyx that I have often seen him wear in a ribbon at his breast, which was sold at Milan for two ducats, and had been stolen from him by a varlet that waited on him in his chamber. I have often seen the duke dressed and undressed in great state and formality, and by very great persons ; but, at his last hour, all this pomp and magnificence ceased, and both he and his family perished (as you have heard already) on the very spot where he had delivered up the constable not long before, out of a base and avaricious motive ; but may God forgive him ! I have known him a powerful and honorable prince, in as great esteem and as much courted by his neighbors (when his afTairs were in a prosperous condition), as any prince in Europe ; and perhaps more so ; and I cannot conceive what should have provoked God Almighty's displeasure so highly against him, unless it was his self-love and arrogance, in attributing all the success of his enterprises, and all the renown he ever acquired, to his own wisdom and conduct, without ascribing anything to God : yet, to speak truth, he was endowed with many good qualities.

No prince ever had a greater desire to entertain young

brother Baldwin; Philip de Croy, Count of Chimay; the Count of Nas- sau, and the Count of Challane; the Lord Josse de Lalain, Sir Oliver de la Marche, the Lord of Croy, the eldest son of the Lord of Contay, the eldest son of the Lord of Montagu, and other noblemen." Molinet, i. 236.

* " The Duke of Burgundy was knocked off his black horse, and fell into a ditch near St. Jean." Lenglet, iii. 493. " A knight named Claude de Bausemont, came up with the Duke of Burgundy, and gave him a lance thrust; others then charged him suddenly, and he was put to death in a meadow near St. Jean." Calmet, vii. 133. "A page came to the Duke of Lorraine, and be-

ing interrogated, declared plainly that he had seen the Duke of Burgundy thrown from his horse, and killed in a certain place which he was ready to point out. On the following morning the page, with many notable person- ages, went to the field, and found the body of the Duke of Burgundy quite naked, lying on the ground among other corpses; and he had received three mortal wounds, one in the head from a halberd, which clove his skull in two, another with a pike in the groin, and a third in the buttock." Molinet, i. 234. By order of the Duke of Lorraine, the body was buried with great magnifi- cence in St. George's Church at Nancy.

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY 35

noblemen than he ; or was more careful of their education. His presents and bounty were never profuse and extravagant, because he gave to many, and wished everybody should taste of his generosity. No prince was ever more easy of access to his servants and subjects. While I was in his service he was never cruel, but a little before his death he became so, which was an infallible sign of the shortness of his life. He was very splendid and pompous in his dress, and in everything else, and indeed a little too much. He paid great honors to all ambassadors and foreigners, and entertained them nobly. His ambitious desire of glory was insatiable, and it was that which more than any other motive induced him to engage eternally in wars. He earnestly desired to imitate the old kings and heroes of antiquity, who are still so much talked of in the world, and his courage was equal to that of any prince of his time.

But all his designs and imaginations were vain, and turned afterward to his own dishonor and confusion, for it is the conquerors and not the conquered that win renown. I can- not easily determine toward whom God Almighty showed his anger most, whether toward him who died suddenly, without pain or sickness in the field of battle, or toward his subjects, who never enjoyed peace after his death, but were continually involved in wars against which they were not able to maintain themselves, upon account of the civil dissensions and cruel animosities that arose among them; and that which was the most insupportable was, that the very people to w^hom they were now indebted for their defence and preservation, were the Germans, who were strangers, and not long since had been their enemies. In short, after the duke's death, there was not a man who wished them to prosper, whoever defended them. And by the management of their afifairs, their understanding seemed to be as much infatuated as their master's was just before his death; for they rejected all good counsel, and pur- sued such methods as directly tended to their destruction; and they are still in great danger of a relapse into calamity, and it will be well if it turn not in the end to their utter ruin.

I am partly of the opinion of those who maintain that God gives princes, as he in his wisdom thinks fit, to punish or chas-

:^6 COMMINES

tise their subjects; and he disposes the affections of subjects to their princes, as he has determined to exalt or depress them. Just so it has pleased him to deal with the house of Burgundy ; for after a long series of riches and prosperity and six score years' ^ peace under three illustrious princes, predecessors to Duke Charles (all of them of great prudence and discretion), it pleased God to send this Duke Charles, who continually involved them in bloody wars, as well winter as summer, to their great affliction and expense, in which most of their richest and stoutest men were either killed or taken prisoners. Their misfortunes began at the siege of Nuz, and continued for three or four battles successively, to the very hour of his death ; so much so, that at the last, the whole strength of the country was destroyed, and all were killed or taken prisoners who had any zeal or affection for the house of Burgundy, or power to defend the state and dignity of that family ; so that in a manner their losses equalled, if they did not overbalance, their former prosperity ; for as I had seen these princes puissant, rich, and honorable, so it fared with their subjects : for I think I have seen and known the greatest part of Europe, yet I never knew any province or country, though of a larger extent, so abounding in money,^ so extravagantly fine in their furniture, so sumptuous in their buildings, so profuse in their expenses, so luxurious in their feasts and entertainments, and so prodigal in all respects, as the subjects of these princes in my time; and if any think I have exaggerated, others who lived in my time will be of opinion that I have rather said too little.

But it pleased God, at one blow, to subvert this great and sumptuous edifice, and ruin this powerful and illustrious fam- ily, which had maintained and bred up so many brave men, and had acquired such mighty honor and renown far and near, by so many victories and successful enterprises, as none of all its neighboring States could pretend to boast of. A hundred and twenty years it continued in this flourishing condition, by the grace of God ; all its neighbors having, in the meantime, been involved in troubles and commotions, and

' A hundred and four years only, as tapestries, splendid jewels, gold plate

Philip the Bold was created Duke of adorned with precious stones, and his

Burgundy in 1363, and Philip the Good large and valuable library; beside

died in 1467. which, he died worth 2,000,000 gold

* " Philip the Good left his son 400,- pieces in furniture alone." Oliver de

000 crowns of gold in cash, 72,000 marks fa Marche, ii. 267. of silver in plate, itot to mention rich

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY

37

all of them applying to it for succor or protection: to wit, France, England, and Spain, as you have seen by experience of our master the King of France, who in his minority, and during the reign of Charles VII, his father, retired to this court, where he lived six years, and was nobly entertained all that time by Duke Philip the Good. Out of England I saw there also two of King Edward's brothers, the Dukes of Clarence and Gloucester (the last of whom was afterward called King Richard III) ; and of the house of Lancaster, the whole family or very near, with all their party. In short, I have seen this family, in all respects the most flourishing and celebrated of any in Christendom : and then, in a short space of time, it was quite ruined and turned upside down, and left the most desolate and miserable of any house in Europe as regards both prince and subjects. Such changes and revolu- tions of States and kingdoms, God in his providence has wrought before we were born, and will do again when we are dead ; for this is a certain maxim, that the prosperity or adversity of princes depends wholly on his divine disposal.

But to proceed with my history. The King having estab- lished posts ^ in all parts of his kingdom (which before never had been done), it was not long ere he received the news of the Duke of Burgundy's defeat ; and he was in hourly expectation of the report, for letters of advice had reached him before, importing, that the German army was advancing toward the Duke of Burgundy's and that a battle was expected between them. Upon which many persons kept their ears open for the news, in order to carry it to the King. For his custom was to reward liberally any person who brought him the first tidings of any news of importance, and to remember the messenger beside. His Majesty also took great delight in talking of it before it arrived, and would say : " I will give so much to any man who first brings me such and such news." The Lord du Bouchage and I being together, hap- pened to receive the first news of the battle of Morat, and we went with it to the King, who gave each of us 200 marks of silver. The Lord du Lude, who lay without the Plessis, had the first news of the arrival of the courier, with the letters

" The ordinance instituting this postal cheux) near Doullens, on June 19, 1464. service is dated at Luxies (now Lu- Duclos, v. 220.

38

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concerning the battle of Nancy; he commanded the courier to dehver him the packet, and as he was a great favorite of the King's he durst not refuse him. By break of day the next morning, the Lord du Lude knocked at the door next to the King's chamber, and it being opened, he dehvered in the packet from the Lord of Craon and other officers. But none of the first letters gave any certainty of the duke's death ; they only stated that he was seen to run away, and that it was supposed he had made his escape.

The King was at first so transported with joy at the news, he scarce knew how to behave himself : however, his Majesty was still in some perplexity. On one hand, he was afraid that if the duke should be taken prisoner by the Germans, by means of his money, of which he had great store, he would make some composition with them. On the other, he was doubtful, if the duke had made his escape, though defeated for the third time, whether he should seize upon his towns in Burgundy or not; which he judged not very difficult to do, since most of the brave men of that country had been slain in those three battles. As to this last point, he came to this resolution (which I believe few were acquainted with but my- self), that if the duke w-ere alive and well, he would command the army which lay ready in Champagne and Barrois to march immediately into Burgundy, and seize upon the whole country while it was in that state of terror and consternation; and when he was in possession of it, he would inform the duke that the seizures he had made was only to preserve it for him, and secure it against the Germans, because it was held under the sovereignty of the Crown of France, and therefore he was unwilling it should fall into their hands; and whatever he had taken should be faithfully restored: and truly, I am of

** The King's first design was to seize them, as is proved by the subioined letter, addressed to the Lord of Craon: " My Lord Count, my Friend— I have received your letters, and heard the good news which you tell me, for which I thank_ you as much as I am able. Now it is time to employ all your five senses so as to get the duchy and county of Burgundy into my hands; and with that view, with your band and the Governor of Champagne (if the Duke of Burgundy is really dead) throw yourself into that country, and as you love me, take care that your men of war keep as good order as if

you were in Paris, and tell them that I wish to treat them and keep them bet- ter than any of my own kingdom; and that with regard to our god-daughter, I intend to complete the marriage which I have already negotiated be- tween the dauphin and her. My lord count, I do not intend that you should enter the country or mention what I have stated above, unless the Duke of Burgundy is dead; and in that case, I beg you to serve me according to the confidence T have in you. Farewell. Written at Plessis du Pare, on the ninth of Januarj'. Signed Louis, and counter- signed De Chaumont." Molinet, ii. 2.

THE FALL OF BURGUNDY 39

opinion his Majesty would have done it, though many people who are ignorant of the motives that guided the King, will not easily believe it. But this resolution was altered as soon as he was certain of the Duke of Burgundy's death.

Upon the King's receiving the above-mentioned first letter, (which gave no account of the duke's death), he immediately sent to Tours, to summon all his captains and other great personages to attend him. Upon their arrival, he communi- cated his letters to them. They all pretended great joy; but to such as more narrowly observed their behavior, it was easily to be discerned that most of them did but feign it ; and, notwithstanding all their outward dissimulation, they had been better pleased if the Duke of Burgundy had been successful. The reason of this might be, because the King was greatly feared, and now if he should find himself clear and secure from his enemies, they were afraid they would be reduced, or at least their offices and pensions retrenched ; for there were sev- eral present who had been engaged against him with his brother the Duke of Guienne, in the confederacy called the Public Good. After his Majesty had discoursed with them for some time, he went to mass, and then ordered dinner to be laid in his chamber, and made them all dine with him; there being with him his chancellor : ^ and some other lords of his council. The King's discourse at dinner-time was about this afifair, and I well remember that myself and others took particular notice how those who were present dined ; but to speak truth (whether for joy or sorrow, I cannot tell), there was not one of them that half filled his belly ; and certainly it could not have been from modesty or bashfulness before the King, for there was not one among them but had dined with his Majesty many times before.

As soon as the King rose from table, he retired, and distributed to some persons certain lands belonging to the Duke of Burgundy, as though he had been dead. He de- spatched the Bastard of Bourbon, Admiral of France, and my- self, into those parts, with full power to receive the homage of all such as were willing to submit and become his subjects. He ordered us to set out immediately, and gave us commission to open all his letters and packets which we might meet by

» Pierre d'OriolIe.

40 COMMINES

the way, that thereby we might ascertain whether the duke was dead or aHve. We departed with all speed, though it was the coldest weather I ever felt in my life. We had not ridden above half a day's journey, when we met a courier, and commanding him to deliver his letters, we learned by them that the Duke of Burgundy was slain, and that his body had been found among the dead, and recognized by an Italian page that attended him, and by one M. Louppe, a Portuguese,^ who was his physician, and who assured the Lord of Craon that it was the duke his master, and the Lord of Craon notified the same at once to the King.

* In the list of the duke's household, " Memoirs " speaks of him as " a Span-

this physician is named Master Lope iard, named Don Diego;" other au-

de la Garde. With reference to the thorities state that he was an Italian,

page, one of the manuscripts of these of the house of Colonna.

TURBULENT TIMES AT COURT

BY

arguerite tie l^aloi^

MARGUERITE DE VALOIS 1552 1615

Marguerite de Valois, daughter of Henri II of France, and first wife of the celebrated Henri IV, the victor of Ivry, was born in 1552, divorced from Henri IV in 1598, and died in 161 5. She is sometimes confounded with that other Margaret of Valois, the grandmother of Henri IV, who wrote the celebrated " Heptameron des Nouvelles," modelled on Boccac- cio's "Decameron." Before the assassination of Henri III by the Do- minican monk Clement, an event which paved the way for the accession of Henry of Navarre to the throne of France as Henri IV, Marguerite was given in marriage, for state reasons, to the new monarch. Her mar- ried life was on the whole unhappy, Henri's amours and his fondness for the children of his mistresses being a continual source of bitterness to her. She was fated to undergo hatred and suspicion at the hands of both Protestants and Catholics, due probably to the undecided attitude she took on the religious questions that vexed the time.

"The Memoirs of Marguerite de Valois" appeared first in 1628, thir- teen years after the death of their witty and beautiful author. They contain many particulars of Marguerite's life, many anecdotes hitherto unknown, and the secret history of the Court of France during the event- ful years comprised in the period i565-'82, including the massacre of Saint Bartholomew, the formation of the League, and the peace of Sens, and an account of the religious struggles which were then raging so bitterly. After the dissolution of her marriage with Henri IV, at which time she was forty-five years of age, she retired, whether under compul- sion is not certain, to the castle of Ucson, built on a mountain near the little town of that name in Auvergne, and the " Memoirs " appear to have been composed in that retreat, though little of this period of her life is known. Brantome, in his memoirs of his own time, has given us anec- dotes of Marguerite during this quiet evening of her life, and, if we may believe him, the divorced queen's hours were spent in great part in read- ing, poetry, and music. From what Brantome and Ronsard say con- cerning Marguerite's personal appearance we gather that she was grace- ful in person and figure, happy in her choice of dress, and majestic in appearance. To personal charm she added wit and affability, and from a letter extant, addressed by her to Brantome, it seems that she bore herself in her enforced retreat with a spirit of genuine piety and resigna- tion.

42

TURBULENT TIMES AT COURT

IT was now three o'clock in the afternoon, and no one pres- ent had yet dined. The Queen my mother was desirous that we should eat together, and, after dinner, she ordered my brother and me to change our dress (as the clothes we had on were suitable only to our late melancholy situation) and come to the King's supper and ball. We complied with her orders as far as a change of dress, but our countenances still retained the impressions of grief and resentment which we inwardly felt.

I must inform you that when the tragi-comedy I have given you an account of was over, the Queen my mother turned round to the Chevalier de Seurre, whom she recommended to my brother to sleep in his bedchamber, and in whose conversation she sometimes took delight because he was a man of some humor, but rather inclined to be cynical.

" Well," said she, " M. de Seurre, what do you think of all this?"

" Madame, I think there is too much of it for earnest, and not enough for jest."

Then addressing himself to me, he said, but not loud enough for the Queen to hear him : " I do not believe all is over yet ; I am very much mistaken if this young man " (meaning my brother) " rests satisfied with this."

This day having passed in the manner before related, the wound being only skinned over and far from healed, the young- men about the King's person set themselves to operate in order to break it out afresh.

These persons, judging of my brother by themselves, and not having sufficient experience to know the power of duty over the minds of personages of exalted rank and high birth, persuaded the King, still connecting his case with their own,

43

44 MARGUERITE DE VALOIS

that it was impossible my brother should ever forgive the affront he had received, and not seek to avenge himself with the first opportunity. The King, forgetting the ill-judged steps these young men had so lately induced him to take, here- upon receives this new impression, and gives orders to the ofificers of the guard to keep strict watch at the gates that his brother go not out, and that his people be made to leave the Louvre every evening, except such of them as usually slept in his bedchamber or wardrobe.

My brother, seeing himself thus exposed to the caprices of these headstrong young fellows, who led the King according to their own fancies, and fearing something worse might hap- pen than what he had yet experienced, at the end of three days, during which time he labored under apprehensions of this kind, came to a determination to leave the court, and never more return to it, but retire to his principality and make prepa- rations with all haste for his expedition to Flanders.

He communicated his design to me, and I approved of it, as I considered he had no other view in it than providing for his own safety, and that neither the King nor his government were likely to sustain any injury by it.

When we consulted upon the means of its accomplishment, we could find no other than his descending from my window, which was on the second story and opened to the ditch, for the gates were so closely watched that it was impossible to pass them, the face of everyone going out of the Louvre being curiously examined. He begged of me, therefore, to procure for him a rope of sufficient strength and long enough for the purpose. This I set about immediately, for, having the sacking of a bed that wanted mending, I sent it out of the palace by a lad whom I could trust, with orders to bring it back repaired, and to wrap up the proper length of rope inside.

When all was prepared, one evening, at supper-time, I went to the Queen my mother, who supped alone in her own apart- ment, it being fast-day and the King eating no supper. My brother, who on most occasions was patient and discreet, spurred on by the indignities he had received, and anxious to extricate himself from danger and regain his liberty, came to me as I was rising from table, and whispered to me to make haste and come to him in my own apartment. M. de Matignon,

TURBULENT TIMES AT COURT 45

at that time a marshal, a sly, cunning Norman, and one who had no love for my brother, whether he had some knowledge of his design from someone who could not keep a secret, or only guessed at it, observed to the Queen my mother as she left the room (which I overheard, being near her, and circum- spectly watching every word and motion, as may well be im- agined, situated as I was betwixt fear and hope, and involved in perplexity) that my brother had undoubtedly an intention of withdrawing himself, and would not be there the next day ; adding that he was assured of it, and she might take her meas- ures accordingly.

I observed that she was much disconcerted by this observa- tion, and I had my fears lest we should be discovered. When we came into her closet, she drew me aside and asked if I heard what Matignon had said.

I replied : " I did not hear it, madame, but I observe that it has given you uneasiness."

" Yes," said she, " a great deal of uneasiness, for you know I have pledged myself to the King that your brother shall not depart hence, and Matignon has declared that he knows very well he will not be here to-morrow."

I now found myself under a great embarrassment ; I was in danger either of proving unfaithful to my brother, and thereby bringing his life into jeopardy, or of being obliged to declare that to be truth which I knew to be false, and this I would have died rather than be guilty of.

In this extremity, if I had not been aided by God, my coun- tenance, without speaking, would plainly have discovered what I wished to conceal. But God, who assists those who mean well, and whose divine goodness was discoverable in my broth- er's escape, enabled me to compose my looks and suggested to me such a reply as gave her to understand no more than I wished her to know, and cleared my conscience from making any declaration contrary to the truth. I answered her in these words :

" You cannot, madame, but be sensible that M. de Matignon is not one of my brother's friends, and that he is, besides, a busy, meddling kind of man, who is sorry to find a reconciliation has taken place with us ; and, as to my brother, I will answer for him with my life in case he goes hence, of which, if he had

46 MARGUERITE DE VALOIS

any design, I should, as I am well assured, not be ignorant, he never having yet concealed anything he meant to do from me."

All this was said by me with the assurance that, after my brother's escape, they would not dare to do me any injury ; and in case of the worst, and when we should be discovered, I had much rather pledge my life than hazard my soul by a false declaration, and endanger my brother's life. Without scrutiniz- ing the import of my speech, she replied : " Remember what you now say you will be bound for him on the penalty of your life."

I smiled and answered that such was my intention. Then, wishing her a good-night, I retired to my own bedchamber, where, undressing myself in haste and getting into bed, in order to dismiss the ladies and maids of honor, and there then remaining only my chamber-women, my brother came in, ac- companied by Simier and Cange. Rising from my bed, we made the cord fast, and having looked out at the window to discover if anyone was in the ditch, with the assistance of three of my women, who slept in my room, and the lad who had brought in the rope, we let down my brother, who laughed and joked upon the occasion without the least apprehension, notwithstanding the height was considerable. We next low- ered Simier into the ditch, who was in such a fright that he had scarcely strength to hold the rope fast ; and lastly descended my brother's valet de chambre, Cange.

Through God's providence my brother got off undiscovered, and going to Ste. Genevieve, he found Bussi waiting there for him. By consent of the abbot, a hole had been made in the city wall, through which they passed, and horses being provided and in waiting, they mounted, and reached Angers without the least accident.

While we were lowering down Cange, who, as I mentioned before, was the last, we observed a man rising out of the ditch, who ran toward the lodge adjoining to the tennis-court, in the direct way leading to the guard-house. I had no apprehensions on my own account, all my fears being absorbed by those I entertained for my brother; and now I was almost dead with alarm, supposing this might be a spy placed there by M. de Matignon, and that my brother would be taken. While I was in this cruel state of anxiety, which can be judged of only by

TURBULENT TIMES AT COURT 47

those who have experienced a similar situation, my women took a precaution for my safety and their own, which did not sug- gest itself to me. This was to burn the rope, that it might not appear to our conviction in case the man in question had been placed there to watch us. This rope occasioned so great a flame in burning, that it set fire to the chimney, which, being seen from without, alarmed the guard, who ran to us, knocking vio- lently at the door, calling for it to be opened.

I now concluded that my brother was stopped, and that we were both undone. However, as, by the blessing of God and through his divine mercy alone, I have, amid every danger with which I have been repeatedly surrounded, constantly pre- served a presence of mind which directed what was best to be done, and observing that the rope was not more than half consumed, I told my women to go to the door, and speaking softly, as if I was asleep, to ask the men what they wanted. They did so, and the archers replied that the chimney was on fire, and they came to extinguish it. My women answered it was of no consequence, and they could put it out themselves, begging them not to awake me. This alarm thus passed off quietly, and they went away ; but, in two hours afterward, M. de Cosse came for me to go to the King and the Queen my mother to give an account of my brother's escape, of which they had received intelligence by the Abbot of Ste. Genevieve.

It seems it had been concerted betwixt my brother and the abbot, in order to prevent the latter from falling under disgrace, that, when my brother might be supposed to have reached a sufficient distance, the abbot should go to court, and say that he had been put into confinement while the hole was being made, and that he came to inform the King as soon as he had released himself.

I was in bed, for it was yet night ; and rising hastily, I put on my night-clothes. One of my women was indiscreet enough to hold me round the waist, and exclaim aloud, shedding a flood of tears, that she should never see me more. M. de Cosse, pushing her away, said to me : " If I were not a person thor- oughly devoted to your service, this woman has said enough to bring you into trouble. But," continued he, " fear nothing. God be praised, by this time the prince your brother is out of danger."

48 MARGUERITE DE VALOIS

These words were very necessary, in the present state of my mind, to fortify it against the reproaches and threats I had reason to expect from the King. I found him sitting at the foot of the Queen my mother's bed, in such a violent rage that I am inchned to beheve I should have felt the effects of it, had he not been restrained by the absence of my brother and my mother's presence. They both told me that I had assured them my brother would not leave the court, and that I pledged myself for his stay. I replied that it was true that he had deceived me, as he had them ; however, I was ready still to pledge my life that his departure would not operate to the prejudice of the King's service, and that it would appear he was only gone to his own principality to give orders and forward his expedi- tion to Flanders.

The King appeared to be somewhat mollified by this dec- laration, and now gave me permission to return to my own apartments. Soon afterward he received letters from my brother, containing assurances of his attachment, in the terms I had before expressed. This caused a cessation of complaints, but by no means removed the King's dissatisfaction, who made a show of affording assistance to his expedition, but was secretly using every means to frustrate and defeat it.

I now renewed my application for leave to go to the King my husband, which I continued to press on every opportunity. The King, perceiving that he could not refuse my leave any longer, was willing I should depart satisfied. He had this fur- ther view in complying with my wishes, that by this means he should withdraw me from my attachment to my brother. He therefore strove to oblige me in every w^ay he could think of, and, to fulfil the promise made by the Queen my mother at the Peace of Sens, he gave me an assignment of my portion in territory, with the power of nomination to all vacant benefices and all offices ; and, over and above the customary pension to the daughters of France, he gave another out of his privy purse.

He daily paid me a visit in my apartment, in which he took occasion to represent to me how useful his friendship would be to me ; whereas that of my brother could be only injuri- ous— with arguments of the like kind.

However, all he could say was insufficient to prevail on me to swerve from the fidelity I had vowed to observe to my

TURBULENT TIMES AT COURT 49

brother. The King was able to draw from me no other declara- tion than this : that it ever was, and should be, my earnest wish to see my brother firmly established in his gracious favor, which he had never appeared to me to have forfeited ; that I was well assured he would exert himself to the utmost to regain it by every act of duty and meritorious service ; that, with re- spect to myself, I thought I was so much obliged to him for the great honor he did me by repeated acts of generosity, that he might be assured, when I was with the King my husband I should consider myself bound in duty to obey all such com- mands as he should be pleased to give me ; and that it would be my whole study to maintain the King my husband in a sub- mission to his pleasure.

My brother was now on the point of leaving Alengon to go to Flanders ; the Queen my mother was desirous to see him before his departure. I begged the King to permit me to take the opportunity of accompanying her to take leave of my brother, which he granted ; but, as it seemed, with great un- willingness. When we returned from Alengon, I solicited the King to permit me to take leave of himself, as I had everything prepared for my journey. The Queen my mother being de- sirous to go to Gascony, where her presence was necessary for the King's service, was unwilling that I should depart without her. When we left Paris, the King accompanied us on the way as far as his palace of Dolinville. There we stayed with him a few days, and there we took our leave, and in a little time reached Guienne, which belonging to, and being under the government of the King my husband, I was everywhere re- ceived as Queen. My husband gave the Queen my mother a meeting at Reolle, which was held by the Huguenots as a cau- tionary town ; and the country not being sufficiently quieted, she was permitted to go no further.

It was the intention of the Queen my mother to make but a short stay ; but so many accidents arose from disputes betwixt the Huguenots and Catholics, that she was under the necessity of stopping there eighteen months. As this was very much against her inclination, she was sometimes inclined to think there was a design to keep her, in order to have the company of her maids of honor. For my husband had been greatly smit- ten with Dayelle, and M. de Thurene was in love with La 4

50

MARGUERITE DE VALOIS

Vergne. However, I received every mark of honor and atten- tion from the King that I could expect or desire. He related to me, as soon as we met, the artifices which had been put in practice while he remained at court to create a misunderstand- ing betwixt him and me ; all this, he said, he knew was with a design to cause a rupture betwixt my brother and him, and thereby ruin us all three, as there was an exceeding great jeal- ousy entertained of the friendship which existed betwixt us.

We remained in the disagreeable situation I have before de- scribed all the time the Queen my mother stayed in Gascony ; but, as soon as she could re-establish peace, she, by desire of the King my husband, removed the King's lieutenant, the Marquis de Villars, putting in his place the Marechal de Biron. She then departed for Languedoc, and we conducted her to Castel- naudary ; where, taking our leave, we returned to Pau,in Beam ; in which place, the Catholic religion not being tolerated, I was only allowed to have mass celebrated in a chapel of about three or four feet in length, and so narrow that it could scarcely hold seven or eight persons. During the celebration of mass, the bridge of the castle was drawn up to prevent the Catholics of the town and country from coming to assist at it ; who having been, for some years, deprived of the benefit of following their own mode of worship, would have gladly been present. Actu- ated by so holy and laudable a desire, some of the inhabitants of Pau, on Whitsunday, found means to get into the castle before the bridge was drawn up, and were present at the celebration of mass, not being discovered until it was nearly over. At length the Huguenots espied them, and ran to acquaint Le Pin, secretary to the King my husband, who was gready in his favor, and who conducted the whole business relating to the new religion. Upon receiving this intelligence, Le Pin ordered the guard to arrest these poor people, who were severely beaten in my presence, and afterward locked up in prison, whence they were not released without paying a considerable fine.

This indignity gave me great offence, as I never expected anything of the kind. Accordingly, I complained of it to the King my husband, begging him to give orders for the release of these poor Catholics, who did not deserve to be punished for coming to my chapel to hear mass, a celebration of which they had been so long deprived of the benefit. Le Pin, with

TURBULENT TIMES AT COURT 51

the greatest disrespect to his master, took upon him to reply, without waiting- to hear what the King had to say. He told me that I ought not to trouble the King my husband about such matters ; that what had been done was very right and proper ; that those people had justly merited the treatment they met with, and all I could say would go for nothing, for it must be so ; and that I ought to rest satisfied with being permitted to have mass said to me and my servants. This insolent speech from a person of his inferior condition incensed me greatly, and I entreated the King my husband, if I had the least share in his good graces, to do me justice, and avenge the insult ofifered me by this low man.

The King my husband, perceiving that I was offended, as I had reason to be, with this gross indignity, ordered Le Pin to quit our presence immediately ; and, expressing his concern at his secretary's behavior, who, he said, was overzealous in the cause of religion, he promised that he would make an ex- ample of him. As to the Catholic prisoners, he said he would advise with his Parliament what ought to be done for my satis- faction.

Having said this, he went to his closet, where he found Le Pin, who, by dint of persuasion, made him change his resolu- tion ; insomuch that, fearing I should insist upon his dismissing his secretary, he avoided meeting me. At last, finding that I was firmly resolved to leave him, unless he dismissed Le Pin, he took advice of some persons, who, having themselves a dis- like to the secretary, represented that he ought not to give me cause of displeasure for the sake of a man of his small impor- tance— especially one who, like him, had given me just reason to be ofifended ; that, when it became known to the King my brother and the Queen my mother, they would certainly take it ill that he had not only not resented it, but, on the contrary, still kept him near his person.

This counsel prevailed with him, and he at length discarded his secretary. The King, however, continued to behave to me with great coolness, being influenced, as he afterward confessed, by the counsel of M. de Pibrac, who acted the part of a double- dealer, telling me that I ought not to pardon an affront ofifered by such a mean fellow, but insist upon his being dismissed ; while he persuaded the King my husband that there was no

52 MARGUERITE DE VALOIS

reason for parting with a man so useful to him, for such a trivial cause. This was done by M. de Pibrac, thinking I might be induced, from such mortifications, to return to France, where he enjoyed the offices of president and King's counsellor.

I now met with a fresh cause for disquietude in my present situation, for, Dayelle being gone, the King my husband placed his affections on Rebours. She was an artful young person, and had no regard for me ; accordingly, she did me all the ill offices in her power with him. In the midst of these trials, I put my trust in God, and he, moved with pity by my tears, gave permission for our leaving Pau, that " little Geneva " ; and, fortunately for me, Rebours was taken ill and stayed be- hind. The King my husband no sooner lost sight of her than he forgot her ; he now turned his eyes and attention toward Fosseuse. She was much handsomer than the other, and was at that time young, and really a very amiable person.

Pursuing the road to Montauban, we stopped at a little town called Eause, where, in the night, the King my husband was attacked with a high fever, accompanied with most violent pains in his head. This fever lasted for seventeen days, during which time he had no rest night or day, but was continually re- moved from one bed to another. I nursed him the whole time, never stirring from his bedside, and never putting off my clothes. He took notice of my extraordinary tenderness, and spoke of it to several persons, and particularly to my cousin

M , who, acting the part of an affectionate relation, restored

me to his favor, insomuch that I never stood so highly in it before. This happiness I had the good fortune to enjoy during the four or five years that I remained with him in Gascony.

Our residence, for the most part of the time I have mentioned, was at Nerac, where our court was so brilliant that we had no cause to regret our absence from the Court of France, We had with us the Princesse de Navarre, my husband's sister, since married to the Due de Bar; there were beside a number of ladies belonging to myself. The King my husband was at- tended by a numerous body of lords and gentlemen, all as gallant persons as I have seen in any court ; and we had only to lament that they were Huguenots. This difference of relig- ion, however, caused no dispute among us ; the King my hus- band and the princess his sister heard a sermon, while I and my

TURBULENT TIMES AT COURT 53

servants heard mass. I had a chapel in the park for the pur- pose, and, as soon as the service of both rehgions was over, we joined company in a beautiful garden, ornamented with long walks shaded with laurel and cypress trees. Sometimes we took a walk in the park on the banks of the river, bordered by an avenue of trees 3,000 yards in length. The rest of the day was passed in innocent amusements ; and in the afternoon, or at night, we commonly had a ball.

The King was very assiduous with Fosseuse, who, being dependent on me, kept herself within the strict bounds of honor and virtue. Had she always done so, she had not brought upon herself a misfortune which has proved of such fatal consequence to myself as well as to her.

But our happiness was too great to be of long continuance, and fresh troubles broke out betwixt the King my husband and the Catholics, and gave rise to a new war. The King my husband and the Marechal de Biron, who was the King's lieutenant in Guienne, had a difference, which was aggravated by the Huguenots. This breach became in a short time so wide that all my efforts to close it were useless. They made their separate complaints to the King. The King my husband in- sisted on the removal of the Marechal de Biron, and the marshal charged the King my husband, and the rest of those who were of the pretended reformed religion, with designs contrary to peace. I saw, with great concern, that affairs were likely soon to come to an open rupture ; and I had no power to prevent it.

The marshal advised the King to come to Guienne himself, saying that in his presence matters might be settled. The Huguenots, hearing of this proposal, supposed the King would take possession of their towns, and, thereupon, came to a reso- lution to take up arms. This was what I feared ; I was become a sharer in the King my husband's fortune, and was now to be in opposition to the King my brother and the religion I had been bred up in. I gave my opinion upon this war to the King my husband and his council, and strove to dissuade them from engaging in it. I represented to them the hazards of carrying on a war when they were to be opposed against so able a general as the Marechal de Biron, who would not spare them, as other generals had done, he being their private enemy. I begged them to consider that, if the King brought

54 MARGUERITE DE VALOIS

his whole force against them, with intention to exterminate their rehgion, it would not be in their power to oppose or prevent it. But they were so headstrong, and so blinded with the hope of succeeding in the surprise of certain towns in Languedoc and Gascony, that, though the King did me the honor, upon all occasions, to listen to my advice, as did most of the Huguenots, yet I could not prevail on them to follow it in the present situation of affairs, until it was too late, and after they had found, to their cost, that my counsel was good. The torrent was now burst forth, and there was no possibility of stopping its course until it had spent its utmost strength.

Before that period arrived, foreseeing the consequences, I had often written to the King and the Queen my mother, to offer something to the King my husband by way of accommo- dating matters. But they were bent against it, and seemed to be pleased that matters had taken such a turn, being assured by Marechal de Biron that he had it in his power to crush the Huguenots whenever he pleased. In this crisis my advice was not attended to, the dissensions increased, and recourse was had to arms.

The Huguenots had reckoned upon a force more consider- able than they were able to collect together, and the King my husband found himself outnumbered by Marechal de Biron. In consequence, those of the pretended reformed religion failed in all their plans, except their attack upon Cahors, which they took with petards, after having lost a great number of men M. de Vezins, who commanded in the town, disputing their en- trance for two or three days, from street to street, and even from house to house. The King my husband displayed great valor and conduct upon the occasion, and showed himself to be a gal- lant and brave general. Though the Huguenots succeeded in this attempt, their loss was so great that they gained nothing from it. Marechal de Biron kept the field, and took every place that declared for the Huguenots, putting all that opposed him to the sword.

From the commencement of this war, the King my hus- band doing me the honor to love me, and commanding me not to leave him, I had resolved to share his fortune, not without extreme regret, in observing that this war was of such a nature that I could not, in conscience, wish success to either side ; for

TURBULENT TIMES AT COURT 55

if the Huguenots got the upper hand, the religion which I cherished as much as my Hfe was lost, and if the Catholics pre- vailed, the King my husband was undone. But, being thus attached to my husband, by the duty I owed him, and obliged by the attentions he was pleased to show me, I could only acquaint the King and the Queen my mother with the situation to which I was reduced, occasioned by my advice to them not having been attended to. I, therefore, prayed them, if they could not extinguish the flames of war in the midst of which I was placed, at least to give orders to Marechal de Biron to consider the town I resided in, and three leagues round it, as neutral ground, and that I would get the King my husband to do the same. This the King granted me for Nerac, provided my husband was not there ; but if he should enter it, the neutrality was to cease, and so to remain as long as he continued there. This convention was observed, on both sides, with all the exactness I could desire. However, the King my husband was not to be prevented from often visiting Nerac, which was the residence of his sister and me. He was fond of the society of ladies, and, moreover, was at that time greatly enamored with Fosseuse, who held the place in his affections which Rebours had lately occupied. Fosseuse did me no ill offices, so that the King my husband and I continued to live on very good terms, especially as he perceived me unwilling to oppose his inclinations.

Led by such inducements, he came to Nerac, once, with a body of troops, and stayed three days, not being able to leave the agreeable company he found there. Marechal de Biron, who wished for nothing so much as such an opportunity, was apprised of it, and, under pretence of joining M. de Cornusson, the seneschal of Toulouse, who was expected with a re-enforce- ment for his army, he began his march ; but, instead of pursu- ing the road, according to the orders he had issued, he sud- denly ordered his troops to file off toward Nerac, and, before nine in the morning, his whole force was drawn up within sight of the town, and within cannon-shot of it.

The King my husband had received intelligence, the evening before, of the expected arrival of M. de Cornusson, and was desirous of preventing the junction, for which purpose he resolved to attack him and the marshal separately. As he

56 MARGUERITE DE VALOIS .

had been lately joined by M. de La Rochefoucauld, with a corps of cavalry consisting of 800 men, formed from the nobil- ity of Saintonge, he found himself sufficiently strong to under- take such a plan. He, therefore, set out before break of day to make his attack as they crossed the river. But his intelligence did not prove to be correct, for De Cornusson passed it the evening before. My husband, being thus disappointed in his design, returned to Nerac, and entered at one gate just as Marechal de Biron drew up his troops before the other. There fell so heavy a rain at that moment that the musketry was of no use. The King my husband, however, threw a body of his troops into a vineyard to stop the marshal's progress, not being able to do more on account of the unfavorableness of the weather.

In the meantime, the marshal continued with his troops drawn up in order of battle, permitting only two or three of his men to advance, who challenged a like number to break lances in honor of their mistresses. The rest of the army kept their ground, to mask their artillery, which, being ready to play, they opened to the right and left, and fired seven or eight shots upon the town, one of which struck the palace. The marshal, having done this, marched ofT, despatching a trum- peter to me with his excuse. He acquainted me that, had I been alone, he would on no account have fired on the town ; but the terms of neutrality for the town, agreed upon by the King, were, as I well knew, in case the King my husband should not be found in it, and, if otherwise, they were void. Beside which, his orders were to attack the King my husband wherever he should find him.

I must acknowledge on every other occasion the marshal showed me the greatest respect, and appeared to be much my friend. During the war my letters have frequently fallen into his hands, when he as constantly forwarded them to me un- opened. And whenever my people have happened to be taken prisoners by his army, they were always well treated as soon as they mentioned to whom they belonged,

I answered his message by the trumpeter, saying that I well knew what he had done was strictly agreeable to the conven- tion made and the orders he had received, but that a gallant officer like him would know how to do his duty without giv-

TURBULENT TIMES AT COURT 57

ing his friends cause of offence ; that he might have permitted me the enjoyment of the King my husband's company in Nerac for three days, adding, that he could not attack him, in my presence, without attacking me ; and concluding that, certainly, I was greatly offended by his conduct, and would take the first opportunity of making my complaint to the King my brother.

FAMOUS PAINTINGS FROM THE PARIS SALON.

"/EUNESSE."

Photogravure from the anginal painting bv Raphael Collin, exhibited in the

Paris Salon of i88i).

SIDE LIGHTS ON THE REIGN OF

HENRY IV

BY

2DUC He ^uHp

{Maxitnilien de Bithune)

MAXIMILIEN DE B^THUNE, DUC DE SULLY

1560 1641

The Due de Sully, the celebrated minister of Henry IV, of France, was the second son of Frangois, Baron de Rosny, and was born at Rosny, near Mantes, in 1 560. Sully was at an early age committed to the care of Henry of Navarre, the head of the Huguenot party, which not only obtained for him an excellent education, but laid the foundation of a com- panionship which lasted without intermission till Henry's death. After narrowly escaping during the Saint Bartholomew massacre, he accompanied his patron in his flight from court in 1575, and during the civil war which followed, exerted himself to the utmost, by daring valor in the field and otherwise to serve the master for whom he cherished the most absorbing devotion. After Henry's authority had been well established. Sully, who had for some years previous been his trusted adviser, became in 1594 counsellor of state and of finance. Not content with regulating the affairs of the revenue from the seat of power, he made a tour through the chief provincial districts armed with absolute authority, personally examined the accounts, dismissed or suspended delinquents, and largely replenished the treasury with the ill-gotten wealth which he compelled them to dis- gorge. By indomitable perseverance he, little by little, brought the affairs of the country into an orderly state ; although in the diminution of the expenditure his efforts were by no means so successful, as the King and the companions of his pleasures combined to oppose all retrenchment as far as they were concerned.

Sully, however, was more than a mere financier ; he had the supreme charge of various other branches of the administration, zealously pro- moted agriculture by diminishing the taxes of the peasantry, encouraging export trade, draining marsh lands, and constructing numerous roads, bridges, and causeways. Sully was the servant of the King and govern- ment alone, and was of necessity disliked by the people for his severity, by the Catholics for his religion, and by the Protestants for his invariable refusals to sacrifice the smallest jot of his master's or the country's inter- est for their sake. Accordingly, with the death of Henrj^ his career of supremacy was at once ended, and he was forced to resign the superin- tendence of finance, January 26, 161 1, though he retained his other high offices, and was presented by Maria de Medici with 300,000 livres as acknowledgment of his services. He had been created Duke of Sully and peer of France in February, 1606. Sully wrote three treatises on war and police, which are lost, and two pieces of verse, which are extant ; but the work which will ever be connected with his name is the " AN- moi'res des sages et royales Economies d'l^tat de Henri le Grand," a collection of writings of priceless value to a historian of Henr)' IV's time. Sully died at Villebon, near Chartres (Eure-et-Loir), December 22, 1641.

60

SIDE LIGHTS ON THE REIGN OF HENRY IV

THE memoirs of this year, as of the former, will contain none of those extraordinary events, which cannot be read without astonishment or horror : I shall continue in them my usual details of the government, court intrigues, and the private life of Henry as well as my own. The winter was spent in diversions more varied and more frequent than ever, and in feasts prepared with great magnificence. The King had sent for some comedians from Italy, in whose per- formances he took much delight : he often sent for them to Fontainebleau to play before him, and in my absence com- manded my son to pay them their appointments with great ex- actness. The arsenal was generally the place where those plays and shows were exhibited, which required some preparations.

The King sometimes, when I was absent, came thither to run at the ring; but he never thought there were the same order and regularity preserved, as when I was there : and the Queen, and the whole court, thought no other place so agreeable and convenient for theatrical representations. For this purpose I had caused a spacious hall to be built and fitted up, with an amphitheatre ; and a great number of boxes, in several galleries separated from each other, with different de- grees of height, and particular doors belonging to them. Two of these galleries were destined for the ladies : no man was allowed to enter with them. This was one of my regulations, which I would not sulifer should be reversed, and which I did not think it beneath me to enforce the observation of.

One day when a very fine ballet was represented in this hall, I perceived a man leading in a lady, with whom he was preparing to enter one of the women's galleries : he was a foreigner, and I easily distinguished of what country by the swarthy color of his skin. " Monsieur," said I to him, " you

6l

62 SULLY

must seek for another door if you please ; for I do not imagine that, with such a complexion, you can hope to pass for a fair lady." " My lord," answered he in very bad French, " when you know who I am, I am persuaded you will not refuse to let me sit among those fair ladies, as swarthy as I am. My name is Pimentel, I have the honor to be very well with his Majesty, Vv^ho plays very often with me "; which was, indeed too true ; for this foreigner, whom I had already heard often mentioned, had gained immense sums from the King. " How, Vcntrc-de-ma-vie," said I to him, affecting to be extremely angry, " you are then that fat Portuguese,^ who every day wins the King's money. Pardicii, you are come to a bad place ; for I neither like, nor will sufifer such people to come here."

He offered to speak, but I would not hear him. " Go, go," said I, pushing him back, " you shall not enter here : I am not to be prevailed upon by your gibberish." The King after- ward asking him if he did not think the ballet very fine, and the dances exquisitely performed, Pimentel told him that he had a great inclination to see it, but that he met his grand financier, with his negative front, at the door, who turned him back. He then related his adventure with me, at which the King was extremely pleased, and laughed heartily at his man- ner of telling it ; nor did he forget to divert the whole court with it afterward.

I shall not here have recourse to the artifices of false mod- esty, to insinuate that the affection the King showed for me, and the confidence he placed in me, had risen to such a height, that if I had been capable of aspiring to the superb title of favorite, I might have obtained it. The reader may judge of this by the offers his Majesty made me this year: but it is necessary to take this matter a little higher.

Among the many calumnies which in the year 1605 brought me to the brink of niin, my enemies, by private informations, endeavored to persuade Henry, that I intended to procure so rich and so powerful an alliance for my son,^ as might one day render him formidable to his Majesty himself: that several

' Pimentel was not a Portuguese, but He was superintendent of the fortifica-

an Italian. tions, Governor of Mante and Gergeau,

- Maximilicn de Bethune, Marquis of and master-general of the ordnance in

Rosny, eldest son of the Duke of Sully, reversion, after the death of his father;

by Anne de Courtenay, his first wife. but died before him in 1634.

SIDE LIGHTS ON THE REIGN OF HENRY IV 63

persons, either by my desire, or to make their court to me, labored so earnestly for the success of this scheme, that already I had it in my choice to marry my son either to Mademoiselle de Bourbon, de Maienne, de Montmorency, de Bouillon, or de Crequy, or into any of the richest private families in the kingdom, if I preferred a great estate to a noble name. This was one of the principal points of that long and serious con- versation I had with his Majesty the preceding year in his library, and of which I promised to relate all that I was per- mitted to discover, as opportunities offered. Henry asked me what were my views for my son, and whether there was any truth in those reports that he had heard concerning his marriage with one of those ladies I have mentioned. I ac- knowledged to this prince, that it was indeed true, each of those families had made me offers very capable of dazzling an ambitious man; but that my constant reply had been, that it was from his Majesty alone I would receive a wife for my son.

The King appeared extremely well satisfied with this answer, and these sentiments ; and opening his heart entirely, he told me, that with regard to me, there were two things which would give him equal uneasiness : one of which was, if, knowing the extreme concern it gave him to see the chief of his nobility mixing their blood with that of a burgher, or a plebeian, I should ever dream of marrying my son below the dignity of his birth; and the other, if, erring in the contrary extreme, I should choose a wife for him either out of the house of Bourbon, or of Lorraine, but more especially that of Bouillon. Therefore, among the five young ladies proposed for Rosny, he saw only Mademoiselle de Crequy on whom he could fix his choice ; for everyone knew the houses of Bonne, Blanche- fort, and Agoust, to be of the lowest class of the nobility, al- though otherwise distinguished as much by brave examples of personal valor as by the most shining dignities of the State. Henry, confirming himself in this thought, added, that he would not have the proposal come from any but himself ; and that he would take a convenient time for it, which he did almost immediately after.

Lesdiguieres and Crequy were not hard to be persuaded : I may even say, that the eagerness they showed for the con- clusion of the match did not abate, till they saw the articles

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not only drawn up but signed. I may say, likewise, with equal truth, that in the conditions they found no artifice on my side : I sought rather to acquire tender friends than relations still nearer connected. Nothing fell out in the succeeding years, that did not confirm me in the thought, that I had succeeded in my endeavors to procure this happiness. Those years were full of glory and prosperity for me, but they are past : those friends so affectionate have disappeared with my favor ; those allies so respectful have vanished with my fortune : but what do I say, have they not endeavored to complete my misfor- tune, and that of my son, by giving me cause to detest on a thousand accounts the most unhappy of all alliances? Why had I not the power of reading hearts? But perhaps I have reason to thank Heaven for my error and my credulity : the temptation to which I saw myself a short time afterward ex- posed might have been then too powerful for conscience to have surmounted.

Although the marriage,^ thus absolutely resolved on, was not celebrated immediately, as both parties left it to the King to fix the time for it, from that moment I looked upon the tie, which united the family of Crequy to mine, as indissoluble, and I was so far the dupe of the sincerity and tenderness of my own heart, as to make this alliance one argument for not sufifer- ing myself to be influenced by the enchanting prospect that was suddenly offered to my view. It was at the latter end of this year, which was some months after the treaty with the Crequy family had been concluded, that this temptation was thrown in my way ; and in the beginning of this, when I was more strongly assailed by it. But before I explain myself, it is necessary to observe, that it was still by an efifect of the most refined malice of my enemies, that I saw myself in a situation wherein it depended only upon my own choice to reach the highest degree of greatness and splendor that any subject could arrive at.

My enemies then began to insinuate to the King, under

It was not celebrated till the his marriage with Magdelan de Bonne month of October, in the following de Lesdiguieres, daughter of the con- year, at Charenton, by M. Du Mou- stable of that name. The Marquis of lin, a reformed minister. The lady was Rosny had issue by her, Maximilien only nine or ten years old: she was Francis de Bethunc, Duke of Sully, called Frances, daughter of Charles de etc., and Louisa de Bethune, who died Blanchefort de Crequy, Prince of Poix, unmarried, and afterward Duke of Lesdiguieres, by

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an appearance of zeal both for him and me, which he thought very sincere, that he had not yet done enough for me ; that he ought not to delay offering and obliging me to accept all that his munificence was able to bestow, without requiring anything more of me than what indeed appeared most es- sential and indispensably necessary; namely, to quit the Prot- estant and embrace the Catholic religion. It was, doubtless, far from their intention to procure so many advantages for me ; and I shall easily prove, that the object they had in view was diametrically opposite to that which they appeared to have by the proposals they made. They had inwardly so good an opinion of me, as to believe that I would not purchase any ad- vancement at the price of quitting my religion. From my refusal, therefore, they hoped to persuade the King, that he had everything to fear from a man who was capable of making his religion triumph over his interest, which it was generally found no considerations, whether sacred or profane, was able to resist. The King, pleased with the prospect of advancing me, received this proposal with intentions so different from those by whom it was made to him, that I cannot preserve a too grateful remembrance of his goodness.

Accordingly he sent for me one morning to the Louvre ; and shutting himself up alone with me in his library : " Well, my friend," said he, " you have been in great haste to conclude the treaty for your son's marriage, though I cannot conceive why ; for in this alliance, neither for blood, riches, nor person, can I see any advantage for you." Henry, it is apparent, had forgot that I had done nothing in this affair but by his express commands. " I have resolved," continued he, " to employ you more than ever in the administration, and to raise you and your family to all sorts of honors, dignities, and riches ; but there is a necessity that you should assist me in the execution of this design : for if you do not contribute to it on your side, it will be dilhcult for me to accomplish my intentions, without prejudice to my affairs, and hazarding great blame ; conse- quences which I am persuaded you would be unwilling I should draw upon myself. My design, then, is to ally you to myself, by giving my daughter Vendome ^ in marriage to

* Catherine-Henrietta de Vendome, Charles of Lorraine, Duke of Elbceuf, legitimated daughter of Henry IV by and died in 1663. Gabrielle d'Estrees. She married

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your son, with a portion of 200,000 crowns in ready money, and a pension of ten thousand a year ; the government of Berry to your son, to which I shall join that of Bourbon- nois after Madame d'Angouleme's decease ; and the domain she possesses there, by reimbursing the money it cost her. I will likewise give your son the post of grand master of the ordnance in reversion, and the government of Poitou to your son-in-law, for which I shall give you that of Nor- mandy in exchange ; for I see very plainly, that poor M. de Montpensier ^ will not live long, any more than the constable, whose office I likewise destine for you, and will give you the reversion of it now. But to favor all this, it is necessary that you and your son should embrace the Catholic religion. I entreat you not to refuse me this request, since the good of my service, and the fortune of your house require it."

The recital I have made here is so proper to excite and to flatter vanity, that to avoid so dangerous a snare, I will not give way to any reflections upon it, not even to such as must necessarily arise on the goodness of a prince, who enforced his entreaties with acts of the highest munificence. My answer was conceived, as I remember, in these terms : I told his Majesty, that he did me more honor than I deserved, and even more than I could hope or desire : that it was not for me to decide concerning the two proposals he had made for my son, since his settlement in the world depended entirely on his Majesty, and he was arrived to an age that rendered him capable of serious reflections upon religion, and might there- fore direct his choice himself : but with regard to me, the case was quite different. I assured him with the utmost sincerity, that I could not think of increasing my honors, dignities, or riches, at the expense of my conscience : that if I should ever change my religion, it would be from conviction alone ; neither ambition, avarice, nor vanity, being able to influence me ; and that if I acted otherwise, his Majesty himself would have good reason for distrusting a heart that could not preserve its faith to

° Henry de Bourbon, Duke of Mont- pray to God to grant us as much time pensier, actually died in the month of to repent as this prince had." The February in this year, after languishing Duke of Montpensier was only thirty- two years, during which time he lived five years old. The branch of Bourbon only on women's milk; having prepared Montpensier was extinct in him; for he himself in a trulv Christian manner for left only one daughter, who was con- his death. Henry IV being informed traded in marriage to the Duke of of it, said aloud: " We ought all to Orleans, second son of Henry IV.

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God. " But why," replied Henry, with a cordiality that, sensibly affected me, " why should I suspect you, since you would not do anything that I have not done before you, and which you yourself advised me to do, when I proposed the affair to you. Give me, I beseech you, this satisfaction : I will allow you a month to consider of it: fear not that I will fail in the per- formance of any of my promises."

" I have not, sire," I replied, " the least doubt but that your word is inviolable : I desire nothing so ardently as to please you ; nor will I ever neglect anything that is in my power to do. I promise to think seriously of all that you have been pleased to propose to me, still hoping I shall satisfy your Majesty, though not perhaps in the manner you expect."

The Protestants hearing that I intended to break off my proposed alliance with Lesdiguieres, and to marry my son to Mademoiselle de Vendome, for this report was immediately spread everywhere, they now believed they were going to lose me entirely. They had long, with the severest reproaches, accused me with having labored to ruin the Protestant party in France, by amassing up such considerable sums for the King, and providing such an abundance of warlike stores, which their fears represented to them would be first employed against them. In vain did I endeavor to convince them, that they had no reason to apprehend such designs from a prince like Henry. Their prejudices made them always return to their former suspicions of me : in these they were confirmed by the affection the King showed for Rosny, calling him often son ; the free access which all ecclesiastics had to my house ; the care I took to repair churches, hospitals, and convents, in which I every year expended a considerable sum of the royal revenues; the brief of Paul V, of which several copies had been taken ; and I know not how many other circumstances, which all at that moment concurred to persuade them of my breach of faith.

The chief persons among the Protestants, and the ministers especially, seemed to be most uneasy at this report, not only because of the triumph which their enemies were going to have over them ; but because they were persuaded, and they even said it publicly, that if I was once prevailed upon to abandon them, I should not act with indifference toward them, but

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become . their most zealous persecutor. For a long space of time, I heard nothing but exhortations, remonstrances, and harangues, from that party, which were not hkely to be very efficacious after what the King had said to me, if I had not happily found the strongest support within myself. The Countess of Sault, Lesdiguieres, and the Crequy family, ex- erted themselves, in the meantime, with the utmost vigor, to hinder the marriage with Mademoiselle de Crequy from being broken off, and that with Mademoiselle de Vendome from going forward : they endeavored to persuade the Queen to interest herself in their cause, and complained to her of what was designed to their prejudice. But finding that she would do nothing in the afifair, they renewed their solicitations to me, making use of every method they thought capable of keeping me on their side ; assiduities, assurances, promises, oaths, all were employed to dissuade me from a design I had never en- tertained.

During these transactions, I left Paris to take a journey to Sully, and my other estates ; and immediately upon my return, which was at the end of ten or twelve days, his Majesty sent Villeroi to me, to receive my answer upon the proposals he had made to me. I was not sorry that he had deputed a person to me, before whom I could declare, with the utmost freedom, those sentiments which reflection had but the more confirmed. I told Villeroi, that I most humbly thanked his Majesty for all the honors he had conferred on me : that I could never con- sent to be invested with the offices of persons still living ; and that, although they should become vacant, I did not think myself entitled to them, being already possessed of as many as I desired : that as for what regarded my son, I should never have any other counsel to give him, than to obey the King, and to do nothing against his own conscience. I had particu- lar reasons for being still less explicit upon the articles of my change of religion : therefore, I only told Villeroi, that Cardinal Du Perron should bear my answer to his Majesty. His Emi- nence, as well as Henry, thought there was great meaning in these words : the King related them to Du Perron, declaring that he entertained some hopes from them. And soon after this, the cardinal came to visit me, and entreated me to open my whole heart to him. My answer had both strength, and

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even theology enough in it to convince Du Perron that he had been deceived in his expectations : neither his learning nor his eloquence could move me ; and at his return, he told the King I was inflexible.

This prince, who was desirous of making one effort more, sent for me again ; but although he made use of no other arguments than what the gentleness of his disposition, and his affection for me suggested, and, if I may be permitted to say so, such solicitations as became our ancient friendship, yet I was persuaded, the danger would not stop there, great as it was even then, especially when he began to reproach me, and called my constancy and firmness, obduracy to him ; and a certain sign, he said, that I no longer loved him. At length, he told me, that this was the last time he would speak of this matter to me ; and that he expected I should give him my son at least. To this I again replied, that I would not deny him ; but that I could not consent to use the authority of a father to make my son embrace the Roman Catholic religion. His firmness was equal to my own ; and the King, who would not bestow his daughter on any of the princes of the blood for fear of rendering them too powerful, resolved to marry Made- moiselle de Vendome to the son of M. le Connetable. The Countess of Sault took this opportunity to renew her instances for the accomplishing her grand-daughter's marriage.

All that now remained to be done was to guard against the counter-blow of my enemies : and this I did not neglect, when I found that they were busy in preparing it for me. I took that opportunity to write to the King, telling him that I was not ignorant of anything that was reported to him to give him a bad impression of my thoughts, words, and actions: that they imputed to me what I neither thought, said, nor did. I earnestly entreated him not to forget the promise he had made me, to declare to me himself his will, and what causes of com- plaint he had against me. His answer was wholly calculated to restore my quiet, and secure me against all apprehensions from my enemies : he told me in it, that I, in common with all persons in power, excited more envy than compassion. " You know," added he, " whether I am exempted from it from the people of both religions. This then is all you have to do ; that since I take your advice in all my affairs, do you also take mine

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in everything that relates to you, as that of the most faithful friend you have in the world, and the best master that ever was."

It was not without some reason that Henry brought himself as an example. He likewise had his uneasinesses, and his secret enemies : for although we no longer, as formerly, saw seditions ready to break out in the kingdom, because the exertion of the royal authority had obliged insolence and mutiny to keep them- selves concealed; yet it was but too certain, that in court, and among the most considerable persons in the kingdom, the same turbulent and restless spirit, the same eager panting after nov- elties, which had so long kept the State in disorder and anarchy, were perceived. That spirit now showed itself in divisions among families, and quarrels between particular persons, which Henry labored to compose by every method in his power, look- ing upon them as seeds from whence nothing but the most dan- gerous fruits could proceed : and it gave him great pain when he could not always succeed to his wish. The reign of Henry IV, which in many respects bore a great resemblance to that of Augustus, had likewise this in conformity with his, that it was disturbed by quarrels among his nobility ; and, on these occasions, the example of Augustus was what Henry common- ly proposed to himself to imitate, ^quitate non acnlco was the motto, which, by his direction, I put on the gold medals struck this year, which represented a swarm of bees in the air, with their king in the midst of them without a sting. I presented these medals to Henry, as he passed through his little gallery to that which leads to the Tuileries, where we walked together a long time, discoursing upon the subject I have just men- tioned, and those domestic quarrels which embittered the life of a prince too gentle and too good, whose unhappiness I have so often deplored.

The reader may perceive, that in my memoirs of the late years, I have faithfully observed the promise I had formerly made, to entertain him no more with the weaknesses of Henry. I carefully concealed from my secretaries, and all persons what- ever, all that passed between Henry and me upon this subject, in those many long and secret conversations we had together: except the Duchess of Beaufort and the Marchioness of Ver- neuil, the name of no other woman has been mentioned in these

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" Memoirs," with the title of mistress to the King. I choose rather to suppress all the trouble I have suffered in this article, than make it known at the expense of my master's glory : prob- ably I have carried this scruple too far. The public has heard so often the names of Madame de Moret,'' Mademoiselle des Essarts, old Madame d'Angouleme, the Countess of Sault, Mesdames de Ragny and de Chanlivault, two of my relations ; the Commandeur de Sillery,'^ Rambouillet, Marillac, Buret the physician, another physician who was a Jew, and many of the most considerable persons at court, all differently interested in these adventures of gallantry, either as principals or as par- ties concerned ; that I might relate a great deal without saying anything new, which would be indeed but a cold repetition of little debates and love quarrels, such as those which I have already slightly mentioned. The following circumstance I have excepted from this rule, as it is of a nature that seems to require I should justify my part in it to the public.

On one of those occasions when Henry was most deeply affected with the uneasy temper of the Queen, it was reported, that he had quitted her with some emotion, and set out for Chantilly without seeing her. This indeed was true ; he took the arsenal in his way, and there opened his whole heart to me upon the cause of this dispute. The King pursued his jour- ney, and I went in the afternoon to the Louvre, attended only by one of my secretaries, who did not follow me to the Queen's little closet, where she was then shut up. Leonora Conchini

Jacqueline Du-Beuil, Countess of Moret; Charlotte des Essarts, Coun- tess of Romorantin; two of Henry IV's mistresses. By the first he had Antony, Earl of Moret, killed at the battle of Castelnaudary in 1632; and by the second he had two daughters; one Abbess of Fontevraud, and the other of Chelles. By those two ladies, by the Duchess of Beaufort, and by the Mar- chioness of Verneuil, who successively had openly the title of the King's mis- tress, he had eight children, which were all he legitimated. Besides these, he was in love with Mary Babou, Vis- countess of Estauges, two cousins of the fair Gabrielle, and many others. See " L'Histoire des Amours du Grand Alcandre."

After the death of Henry IV Made- moiselle des Essarts secretly married the Cardinal of Guise, Lewis of Lor- raine; the Pope having granted him a dispensation for that marriage, and, at the same time, empowered him still to

hold his benefices. This is proved by the very contract of marriage, found among the cardinal's papers after his death, executed in the most authentic form. Mention is made of this in the " Mercure Hist, and Polit.," April, 1688. From this marriage two sons were born; one Bishop of Condom, and the second Earl of Romorantin; and two daughters, one of whom married the Marquis of Rhodes. Charlotte des Essarts afterward married Francis Du- Hallier - de - I'Hospital, Marechal of France, Earl of Rosnay, etc. The com- mentary of " Les Amours du Grand Al- candre " remarks only, that she was the Cardinal of Guise's mistress; and after- ward of N. De-Vic, Archbishop of Auch. She was the natural daughter of the Baron of Sautour in Champagne. " Journal du Regne de Henry III," printed in 1720, vol. i. p. 277.

' Noel de Sillery, brother of the chan- cellor, ambassador at Rome.

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was at the door of this closet, her head bending down toward her neck, like a person who was sleeping, or at least in a pro- found reverie. I drew her out of it, and she told me, that the Queen would not suffer her to enter her closet, the door of which, however, opened to me the moment I was named.*

I found the Queen busy in composing a letter to the King, which she allowed me to read : it breathed an air of spleen and bitterness, which must inevitably have very bad effects. I made her so sensible of the consequences it was likely to pro- duce, that she consented to suppress it, though with great difficulty ; and upon condition that I should assist her in com- posing another, wherein nothing should be omitted of all that, as she said, she might with justice represent to the King her husband. There was a necessity for complying with this re- quest, to avoid something worse. Many little debates arose between us, concerning the choice of expressions and the force of each term. I had occasion for all the presence of mind I was capable of exerting, to find out the means of satisfying this princess, without displeasing the King, or of being guilty of any disrespect in addressing him.

This letter, which was very long, I shall not repeat here. The Queen complained in it of the continual gallantries of the King her husband ; but declared that she was excited to this only by the earnest desire she had to possess his heart entirely. If therefore she appeared to insist too absolutely upon his sac- rificing his mistress to her, her quiet, her conscience, and her honor, the interest of the King, his health and his life, the good of the State, and the security of her children's succession to the throne, which the Marchioness de Verneuil took pleasure in rendering doubtful, were so many motives which reduced lier, she said, to the disagreeable necessity of making such a de-

* The Queen, for a long time, placed a great confidence in M. de Sully. The author " L'Histoire de la Mere and du Fits " says, that princess having re- solved one day, by the advice of Con- chini, to inform the King, that certain of the courtiers had had the boldness to make love to her, she was desirous of previously taking the Duke of Sully's advice in regard to it, vifho persuaded her not to execute that resolution, by representing to her, that she was going to give the King the strongest and just- est suspicion a sovereign could have of his wife; since every man of common sense must know very well, that it

would be highly improper to entertain a person of her rank on the subject of love, without previously being assured, that it would not be disagreeable to her, or from her having made the first ad- vances: and that the King might im- agine, the motives which had induced her to make such a discovery, were either fear that it should have been made by some other means, or that she had taken a disgust against the persons accused, by meeting with somebody else more agreeable in her eyes; or, in fine, through the persuasion of others, who had influence enough over her to pre- vail on her to take this revolution.

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mand. To awaken his tenderness, and excite his compassion, she added, that she, together with the children she had by him, would throw themselves at his feet : she reminded him of his promises, and took God to witness, that if she could prevail upon him to keep them, she would, on her side, renounce all other vengeance against the Marchioness de Verneuil.

All my caution was scarce sufficient to avoid the extremes the Queen would have run into; and it is apparent, however, that I failed either in address or invention : for the King, when he received this letter, was mortally offended with it, and so much the more as he instantly perceived that it was not in the Queen's manner. I had a billet from him immediately, con- ceived in these terms : " My friend, I have received the most impertinent letter from my wife that ever was wrote. I am not so angry with her, as with the person that has dictated it ; for I see plainly that it is not her style. Endeavor to discover the author of it : I never shall have any regard for him, who- ever he be ; nor will I see him as long as I live." However secure I thought myself, I could not help being uneasy at this billet.

The King, on his arrival from Chantilly, three or four days afterward, came to the arsenal. I was sufficiently perplexed by the questions he asked me concerning this affair ; for it was expressly for that purpose that he came.

" Well," said he, " have you yet discovered the person who composed my wife's letter?"

" Not yet certainly," replied I, making use of some little address, " but I hope to give you this satisfaction in two days ; and probably sooner, if you will tell me what there is in it that displeases you."

" Oh," replied he, " the letter is mighty well written ; full of reasons, obedience, and submission ; but wounds me smiling, and while it flatters piques me. I have no particular exception to make to it ; but, in general, I am offended with it, and shall be the more so if it comes to be public."

" But, sire," replied I, " if it be such as you say, it may have been written with a good intention, and to prevent some- thing still worse."

" No ! no ! " interrupted Henry, " it is maliciously designed, and with a view to insult me. If my wife had taken advice

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from you, or from any of my faithful servants in it, I should not have been so much offended."

" What, sire," resumed I hastily, " if it was one of your faithful servants who had dictated it, would you not bear him some ill-will? "

" Not the least," returned the King; " for I should be very certain, that he had done it with a good intention."

" It is true, sire," said I : " therefore you must be no longer angry ; for it was I that dictated it, through an apprehension that something worse might happen : and when you know my reasons, you will confess, that I was under a necessity of doing it. But to remove all your doubts, I will show you the original, written in my own hand, at the side of the Queen's." Saying this, I took the paper out of my pocket, and presented it to him.

The King, as he read it, made me observe some words, in the place of which the Queen, when she copied the letter, had substituted others far less obliging. " Well," said he, " since you are the author, let us say no more of it : my heart is at rest. But this is not all," added he, taking advantage of the ascendant which on this occasion I seemed to have over the mind of the Queen : " there are two services which I expect from you." I listened to the King with great attention, and without once interrupting him, although he spoke a long time ; and I shall here relate his words, which I took down in writing at the time. It is by this kind of familiar conversations that the heart is best known.

" I know," said he, " that my wife came twice to your house, while I was at the chase : that she was shut up with you in your wife's closet, each time above an hour ; that at her com- ing out from thence, although her color seemed to be raised by anger, and her eyes full of tears, yet she behaved in a friendly manner to you, thanked you, and appeared not ill satisfied with what you had said to her : and that you may know I am not ill informed, I shall not hide from you, that it was my cousin, de Rohan, your daughter, who related all this to me ; not for the sake of telling secrets, but because she thought I should be glad to see my wife and you upon such friendly terms. It must certainly be, therefore, that my wife has some business of consequence with you : for, notwithstanding all the questions I have asked her, she has never said a single word, or given the

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smallest intimation of these two conferences. I forbid you likewise, upon pain of my displeasure, to say anything of this matter to my cousin, de Rohan : you will deprive me of the pleasure I have in seeing her here, and she will never tell me anything more, if she knows I have repeated this to you. Al- though I laugh and play with her as with a child, yet I do not find in her a childish understanding. She sometimes gives me very good advices, and is extremely secret, which is an excel- lent quality. I have told her many things in confidence, which I have been convinced she never mentioned, either to you or any other person.

" But to return to these two important services, which only you, in my opinion, are able to undertake, I have already said, and I repeat it again, that you must be extremely careful to avoid giving the least suspicion that you have concerted with me what you are to do and say in these affairs : it must not appear that I know anything of your interposition, but that you act entirely of yourself: and you must even feign to be apprehensive of its coming to my ear. One of these services regards Madame de Verneuil ; it is with her you must begin, and this will smooth your way to the other.

" You must tell this lady, that as her particular friend you come to give her notice, that she is upon the point of losing my favor, unless she behaves with great prudence and circum- spection ; that you have discovered that there are persons at court who are endeavoring to engage me in affairs of gallantry with others ; and if this should happen, you are fully persuaded that I shall take her children from her, and confine her to a cloister; that this abatement in my affection for her is, in the first place, apparently caused by the suspicion I have enter- tained that she no longer loves me ; that she takes the liberty to speak of me often with contempt, and even prefers other persons to me : secondly, because she seeks to strengthen her- self with the interest of the house of Lorraine, as if she was desirous of some other protector than me ; but, above all, her connections and familiarities with Messieurs de Guise and de Joinville offend me