HENRI  II:

HIS COURT AND TIMES

BY

H.  NOEL  WILLIAMS

New York

Charles Scribner's Sons

1910

edited for Kindle by Linda Ellis 2015

TO

MY WIFE

HENRI II

FROM THE PAINTING BY FRANÇOIS CLOUET IN THE LOUVRE

CONTENTS

Title Page

Chapter Contents

List of Illustrations

Prefatory Note

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

Chapter XV

Chapter XVI

Chapter XVII

Chapter XVIII

Chapter XIX

Chapter XX

Chapter XXI

Chapter XXII

Chapter XXIII

Chapter XXIV

Chapter XXV

Chapter XXVI

Index

Page Index

Other publications

CHAPTER  CONTENTS

[←Contents Illustrations →]

Chapter I

Claude de France, first wife of François I — Conduct of the King towards her — Hostility of his mother, Louise of Savoy — Her retired life — Her children — Her vow to Saint-François de Paule — Birth of a Dauphin — Birth of Henri, Duc d'Orléans, afterwards Henri II — Death of the Queen— She is accounted a saint, and miracles are reported to have been performed at her tomb

Chapter II

First Italian campaign of François I — Battle of Marignano and recovery of the Milanese — The Concordat — Treaties of Noyon and Cambrai — Character of the King — Disastrous consequences of the government of Louise of Savoy and her favourite Du Prat — Beginning of the rivalry of François I and Charles of Austria — Charles elected Emperor — Negotiations with England: the Field of the Cloth of Gold — War between François and Charles V begins — Early successes of the French — Reverses in Italy — League formed against France — The Connétable de Bourbon — A woman scorned — Conspiracy of Bourbon — His flight — The French compelled to evacuate Italy: death of Bayard— Invasion of Provence by the Imperialists — Siege of Marseilles — Retreat of the Imperialists — François again invades the Milanese — He occupies Milan and lays siege to Pavia — The Imperialists advance to the relief of the town — Battle of Pavia, in which the French army is destroyed, and the King is taken prisoner

Chapter III

François in captivity — His letter to his mother — Critical situation of France: energetic measures of Louise of Savoy — Demands of Charles V — The King is removed to Spain— Truce of six months granted by the Emperor — François's journey to Madrid — His rigorous imprisonment in the Alcazar — He falls seriously ill, and is visited by Charles V — Arrival of the Duchesse d'Alencon (Marguerite d'Angoulême) — The King is believed to be dying: scene at his bedside — His recovery — Negotiations at Toledo: the Emperor insists on the cession of Burgundy — François announces his intention of abdicating in favour of the Dauphin, but changes his mind and directs the French envoys to accede to the Emperor's demands — Treaty of Madrid — Stipulation that the two elder sons of the King, or the Dauphin and twelve of the principal personages of the kingdom, are to be delivered up as hostages — Charles V's reasons for consenting to the release of his rival considered— François swears to execute the treaty, but makes a formal protest against it privately — Betrothal of the King to the Emperor's eldest sister, Eleanor, Queen-Dowager of Portugal — He remains a prisoner in the Alcazar — Meeting between him and the Emperor — Visit of the two monarchs to Queen Eleanor at Illescas — François sets out for France — Louise of Savoy decides to send Henri, as well as the Dauphin, as a hostage to Spain — The English Ambassador's impressions of the young princes — The exchange of the King for his sons takes place on the Bidassoa — Joy of François on regaining his freedom — Departure of the princes for Vittoria

Chapter IV

Refusal of François I to execute the Treaty of Madrid — His conduct severely condemned by modern historians, but generally condoned by his contemporaries — The League of Cognac formed against the Emperor — Inaction of François, who for more than a year leaves his Italian allies to shift for themselves — Fall and sack of Rome — François concludes the Treaty of Westminster with England — Lautrec invades the Milanese with an army subsidised by England, and carries all before him — Escape of Clement VII from Rome — Contemplated duel between François and Charles — Siege of Naples — The folly of François causes the withdrawal of Andrea Doria's fleet from the blockade — The French, weakened by disease, raise the siege, and are subsequently obliged to capitulate — Genoa lost to France — Battle of Landriano and defection of the Pope — Peace of Cambrai (la Paix des Dames), which contains a stipulation that the young princes are to be released on payment of a ransom of two million crowns.

Chapter V

The usher Bodin despatched to Spain to visit the young princes — His journey to Pedraza, where he finds them deprived of their French attendants and subjected to the most rigorous confinement — His interview with them — Extraordinary precautions taken by the Spaniards to guard against the escape of their prisoners — A copy of Bodin's report is sent to Margaret of Austria, thanks to whose intercession the boys' captivity is rendered more tolerable — François marries Eleanor of Austria by procuration at Toledo — Arrival of Anne de Montmorency and the Cardinal de Tournon at Bayonne to make the final arrangements for the release of the princes — The counting and weighing of the ransom — Montmorency and the Constable of Castile — Release of the Dauphin and the Duc d'Orléans — Arrival of the Queen and the princes at Bayonne — Meeting of François and Eleanor at the Convent of Veyrières, near Mont-de-Marsan

Chapter VI

Change effected in the characters of the Dauphin and the Duc d'Orléans by their captivity in Spain — Impatience of François I, who "does not care for dreamy, sullen, sleepy children" — Eagerness of the King to regain a footing in Italy — Charles V's Italian league — Position and policy of Clement VII — Catherine de' Medici — Her early years — Her adventures during the revolution in Florence — Her suitors — François I sends envoys to Rome to propose a marriage between her and the Duc d'Orléans — Embarrassment of the Pope, who, while anxious for the French alliance, fears to give umbrage to the Emperor — Proposed interview between François and Clement at Nice — Duplicity of the Pope — The intimacy between Catherine and her cousin, the Cardinal Ippolito de' Medici, a source of disquietude to his Holiness — Catherine is sent to Florence and Ippolito to Hungary — Interview between the Pope and Charles V at Bologna — Clement skilfully outmanoeuvres the Emperor, and the marriage between Catherine and the Duc d'Orléans is arranged

Chapter VII

Dowry of Catherine de' Medici — Her trousseau — Her pearls — A marvellous casket — The Florentines compelled to defray the greater part of the expense incurred by the Pope — François I's pensions to his son and future daughter-in- law — Efforts of Charles V to prevent the Pope's journey to Nice — Catherine's departure from Florence — She receives the presents of François I and the Duc d'Orléans — Objection of the Duke of Savoy to the marriage and the interview taking place at Nice necessitates the rendezvous being changed to Marseilles — Clement sails from Leghorn — Preparations at Marseilles — Arrival and reception of the Pope — His ceremonial entry into Marseilles — He is visited in secret by François I — Entry of Catherine — The marriage — Personal appearance of the bride and bridegroom — Presents given by the Pope and François to one another — Result of the conference between the two sovereigns — The death of Clement in the following year destroys the hopes which François has based on this alliance

Chapter VIII

Early married life of Henri and Catherine de' Medici — Unpopularity of the marriage — Diplomacy of Catherine, who contrives to secure the favour of François I and the friendship of Marguerite d'Angoulême and the King's mistress, Madame d'Étampes — Sketch of the last-named lady — Execution of François's agent, Maraviglia, at Milan — The King prepares to invade the Milanese, but the death of Clement VII and the expedition of Charles V against Tunis cause him to suspend operations — Death of Francesco Sforza — François demands the Milanese for the Duc d'Orléans — The French occupy Savoy and Piedmont, but the King allows the Emperor to delude him with negotiations — Charles's speech to the Pope and the Sacred College — Treachery of the Marchese di Saluzzo — The Emperor invades Provence — Devastation of the country by Montmorency — Death of the Dauphin François makes Henri heir to the throne — Grief of the King — The Conte Sebastiano Montecuculli arrested on a charge of having poisoned the prince — He confesses, under torture, to having been instigated by the Imperialists to poison the King and his three sons — His execution — The Imperialists repudiate the charge and accuse Catherine de' Medici

Chapter IX

Failure of the Emperor's invasion of Provence — The new Dauphin joins Montmorency's camp at Avignon — His letter to the Maréchal d'Humières — Singular character of the Grand-Master — The Dauphin saves a quack doctor from being hanged — Arrival of the King in the camp — Retreat of the Emperor from Provence, with the loss of half his army — Warm attachment conceived by the Dauphin for Montmorency — Operations on the northern frontier — Campaign of Henri and Montmorency in Picardy — Truce of Bomy — Despatch of a fresh army to Piedmont — The Dauphin commands the vanguard with the Grand-Master — Affair of the pass of Susa — Barbarous treatment of the garrison of Avigliana — Armistice of Monçon — Conference at Nice — Conclusion of a ten years' truce — Interview at Aigues-Mortes between François I and the Emperor

Chapter X

Diane de Poitiers — Her childhood — Her marriage with Louis de Brézé, Grand Sénéchal of Normandy — Arrest of her father, M. de Saint-Vallier, for complicity in the conspiracy of the Connétable de Bourbon — He is condemned to death, but his sentence is commuted when actually on the scaffold — Accusation of the Huguenot historian, Regnier de la Planche, that Diane redeemed her father's life by the sacrifice of her honour to François I — Anecdote of Brantôme — Opinions of various historians on this point — Conclusions of Georges Guiffrey — Assertion of Lorenzo Contarini, Venetian Ambassador to the French Court, that Diane became François's mistress at a later period — Arguments of Ludovic Lalanne as to the authorship of a packet of love-letters addressed to the King —  Opinions of Champollion, Sainte-Beuve, and Guiffrey — Question of the relations between Diane and the poet Clément Marot considered — Extraordinary respect shown by the Grande Sénéchale for the memory of her husband — Date of the beginning of her liaison with the Dauphin — Verses of Clément Marot — Methods adopted by the lady in the subjugation of the young prince — Politic attitude of Catherine de' Medici towards her husband's inamorata — Antagonism of Madame d'Étampes to Diane — Vouté's epigrams against the Sénéchale — The enmity between the two ladies divides the Court into rival factions

Chapter XI

Serious illness of the King — Policy of Montmorency — Charles V invited to pass through France on his way to the Netherlands — His magnificent reception — His entry into Paris — His departure for Flanders — The illusions of François I and Montmorency in regard to the cession of the Milanese rudely dispelled — The new proposals of the Emperor received with indignation by the French Court — Charles V invests his son Philip with the Milanese, and a fresh rupture between the two sovereigns becomes inevitable — Affection of the Dauphin for Montmorency — Increasing bitterness of the struggle between Madame d'Étampes and Diane de Poitiers — Diane and the Constable procure the disgrace of Chabot de Brion — Fury of Madame d'Étampes, who succeeds in alienating François from the Dauphin, and in convincing the King that Montmorency has sacrificed his interests to those of his eldest son — Disgrace of the Constable — Assassination of Rincon and Fregoso — Failure of Charles V's expedition against Algiers — François declares war against the Emperor

Chapter XII

François decides to remain on the defensive in Italy and to invade Luxembourg and Roussillon — Success of the French in Luxembourg compromised by the folly and egotism of the Duc d'Orléans — The Dauphin, with an army of 40,000 men, invades Roussillon and arrives before Perpignan, only to find that the Imperialists have rendered it almost impregnable — Futile efforts of the French to reduce the place — Gallantry of Brissac — The King orders the Dauphin to raise the siege — Retreat of the army — François and the Spanish women-captives — Birth of a son to the Dauphin — Precarious situation of Catherine de' Medici previous to the birth of her child — Her diplomacy saves the situation — Baptism of the little prince — Campaign in the Netherlands — Failure of the Dauphin to reduce the citadel of Binche — Charles V arrives at Speyer — Fatal inaction of François — Düren stormed by the Imperialists — The Duke of Clèves makes his submission to the Emperor — England joins Charles V — Indecisive operations in the Netherlands — The Turks on the coast of Provence

Chapter XIII

Critical situation of France at the beginning of the campaign of 1544 — Brilliant victory of Enghien at Ceresole — France invaded by Charles V and Henry VIII — The mutual suspicion of the allies prevents their adhering to their original plan of advancing straight upon Paris — Henry VIII lays siege to Boulogne and Montreuil, and the Emperor to Saint-Dizier — A pretended letter from the Duc de Guise causes the garrison of Saint-Dizier to capitulate — Charge of treason against Madame d'Étampes considered — The Dauphin entrusted with the command of the French Grand Army, with orders to remain entirely on the defensive — He entreats the King to recall Montmorency, but François angrily refuses — Henry VIII declines to advance on Paris until Boulogne and Montreuil have fallen— Capture of the Dauphin's magazines at Épernay and Château-Thierry by the Imperialists — The Dauphin falls back to Meaux — Panic in the capital — The King succeeds in restoring the confidence of the Parisians — Charles V, finding that his ally still refuses to cross the Somme, makes overtures for peace — Peace of Crépy — Indignation of the Dauphin, who enters a secret protest against the treaty — Henry VIII and the bulk of his army return to England — The Dauphin in Picardy — Failure of the camisado of Boulogne

Chapter XIV

Strained relations between the King and the Dauphin — The Dauphin "sells the bear's skin before the bear is killed," and is betrayed by the Court jester Briandas — Singular sequel to a dinner-party — François and the princes at the siege of Boulogne — The plague breaks out among the besiegers — Mad freak of the Duc d'Orléans — He is carried off by the pestilence, and the Peace of Crépy is rendered, to all intents and purposes, null and void — Refusal of the Emperor to enter into a new treaty — François prepares for war, but cannot be persuaded to take any definite action — Pitiful moral and physical condition of the King — The accession of the Dauphin anticipated with hopefulness by both Court and people — Portrait of Henri by the Venetian Ambassador, Marino Cavalli — Singular reflections on the nature of the prince's relations with Diane de Poitiers — Death of the Comte d'Enghien in a snowball-fight — Charges of foul play against the Dauphin and the Guises considered — Effect upon the King of the death of Henry VIII — Last days of François I — He falls ill at Rambouillet — His admonitions to the Dauphin — His death

Chapter XV

The accession of Henri II followed by a revolution of the palace — Montmorency is recalled and entrusted with the supreme direction of affairs — The Ministers of the late King are dismissed and the Council reorganised — Disgrace and persecution of Madame d'Étampes — Diane de Poitiers comes into her kingdom — Weakness of the new Sovereign, who allows himself to be governed by his favourites — Diane aspires to rule both the King and the kingdom — Impressions of the Imperial Ambassador, Saint-Mauris — Power of Montmorency — An amusing caricature — Diane, jealous of the authority of the Constable, resolves to pit the Guises against him, and then to hold the balance between the two parties — Aggrandizement of the Guises — Honours and benefits procured by Montmorency for his family — Favours bestowed on Saint-André — Shameless rapacity of the favourites, who "devour the King as a lion his prey" — Madame d'Étampes buys off the hostility of Diane — Her later years

Chapter XVI

Obsequies of François I — The remains of the deceased King and those of the Dauphin François and the Duc d'Orléans conveyed to Saint-Denis — Henri II incognito watches the passage of the funeral cortège through Paris — La Châtaigneraie and Jarnac — An innocent remark of the latter is maliciously misconstrued, and he is accused of having misconducted himself with his step-mother, Madeleine de Pontguyon — Fury and despair of Jarnac — Henri II (then Dauphin) suspected of having originated the report, though the real culprit is probably Diane de Poitiers — Embarrassing position of the prince — La Châtaigneraie takes the responsibility upon himself, and he and Jarnac apply to François I for permission to fight a judicial duel — The King forbids them to meet, but, on the accession of Henri II, La Châtaigneraie renews his request — Cartels of the two adversaries — The duel is sanctioned by Henri II — Preparations of Jarnac — Arrogance of La Châtaigneraie, who, in anticipation of an easy victory, invites the Court to a sumptuous supper after the combat — The King makes no secret of his sympathies for La Châtaigneraie — The duel is fought at Saint-Germain in the presence of Henri II and the whole Court — "Le coup de Jarnac" — Extraordinary behaviour of the King — Death of La Châtaigneraie

Chapter XVII

Sacre and coronation of Henri II — Affairs of Italy — Charles V and the Farnesi — Assassination of Pierluigi Farnese, natural son of Paul III, by the nobles of Piacenza, and occupation of the town by the Imperialists — Fury of the Pope — Negotiations for an alliance between France and the Papacy — The Constable dissuades Henri II from making war — Journey of Henri II to Piedmont — Mimic combat in honour of the King at Beaune — Arrival of Henri II at Turin — Annexation of the marquisate of Saluzzo

Chapter XVIII

Revolt against the gabelle, or salt tax, in the south-western provinces — Insurrection at Bordeaux — Murder of the Sieur de Moneins, the King's lieutenant in Guienne — The Constable despatched to Bordeaux — His punishment of the city — The severities inflicted on the Bordelais defended by the Constable's biographer, M. Decrue — State entry of the King into Lyons — Glorification of Diane de Poitiers — Marriages of Antoine de Bourbon and Jeanne d'Albret, and of François de Guise and Anne d'Este — State entry of the King into Paris — Persecution of the Protestants — Henri II and the martyr

Chapter XIX

Strained relations between France and England — Affairs of Scotland — Project of the Guises to marry their niece Mary Stuart to the Dauphin — Invasion of Scotland by the Protector Somerset and Battle of Pinkie — The Scotch nobility offer the hand of the little Queen to the Dauphin — French troops are despatched to the assistance of the Scots — Convention of Haddington — Mary Stuart is brought to France — Henri II's instructions to Humières, gouverneur of the Children of France, concerning her — His letter to the Queen-Dowager of Scotland — Progress of hostilities in Scotland — The War of Boulogne — Peace is concluded between England and France, and a marriage arranged between Edward VI and Madame Élisabeth, eldest daughter of Henri II

Chapter XX

The Constable is created duke and peer of France — Attitude of Diane de Poitiers towards Montmorency and the Guises — Ascendency of Diane over the King — The favourite is created Duchesse de Valentinois, and is presented with the Château of Chenonceaux — Description of her Château of Anet — Henri II at Anet — Devotion of Henri II for Diane — His letters to her — His obligations to her — Question of her sentiments towards him considered — Singular relations between Diane and Catherine: a ménàge à trois — Secret hatred of the Queen for the mistress — Obscure amours of the King — His liaison with Lady Fleming, governess of Mary Stuart — Birth of a son — Indiscretions of Lady Fleming, who is dismissed from Court — The animosity of Madame de Valentinois towards the Constable, whom she suspects of having encouraged her rival, causes her to throw her entire influence on the side of the Guises — Increased importance of the Guise brothers consequent on the death of the Duc Claude and the Cardinal Jean de Lorraine — They determine to force France into another war with Charles V

Chapter XXI

Critical relations between the Houses of France and Austria — Julius III and Ottavio Farnese — Henri II supports the latter against the Pope and Charles V — The War of Parma — Unpopularity of the Emperor in Germany — Revival of the League of Schmalkalde — Maurice of Saxony — Intrigues between France and the Lutheran princes — Treaty of Chambord — Bed of Justice of June 12, 1552 — Henri II, having decided to take the field in person, appoints Catherine Regent, but with very restricted powers — The King reviews his army at Vitry — French plan of campaign — The Constable takes Metz by stratagem — Henri II advances to Nancy, deposes the Regent of Lorraine, the Duchess Christina, and sends the young Duke Charles III to France — The King joins the Constable at Metz and invades Alsace — Refusal of Strasburg to admit the French — Flight of Charles V from Innspruck — The French fall back from the Rhine — The King in the trenches before Ivoy — Termination of the "Austrasian expedition" — Its results

Chapter XXII

The agreement of Passau — Preparations of Charles V for the recovery of Metz — The defence of the town is entrusted to François de Guise — His preparations — Siege of Metz — Obstinacy of the Emperor — The Imperialists are compelled to raise the siege —  Horrible condition of their abandoned camp — Humanity of Guise towards the wounded — Marriage of Diane de France and Orazio Farnese — Thérouenne stormed by the Imperialists and razed to the ground — Death of Orazio Farnese at Hesdin — The French army assembles at Amiens — Skirmish at Doullens — The King and the Constable carry the war into the Netherlands, but nothing is effected —  Death of Edward VI of England — Alarm of Henri II at the proposed marriage of Mary Tudor and Philip of Spain — Mary refuses to make a new treaty with France — Henri II encourages the English refugees and refuses the Queen of England's demand for their extradition — Futile campaign of the King and the Constable in Flanders — Battle of Renty — Outcry against the incapacity of Montmorency — The war in Italy — Truce of Vaucelles — Abdication of Charles V

Chapter XXIII

Popularity of Henri II — His amiable qualities — His affection for his children — The Dauphin (François II) — The Duc d'Orléans (Charles IX) — The Duc d'Angoulême (Henri III) — The Duc d'Alençon — Mesdames Élisabeth (Queen of Spain) and Claude (Duchess of Lorraine) — Madame Marguerite ("Queen Margot") — Education of the little princesses and Mary Stuart — Household of the Children of France — Diane de France, natural daughter of Henri II — The romance of François de Montmorency and Mlle. de Piennes — Marriage of François to Diane de France — Daily life of Henri II — His lever — His dinner — His love of the chase — His efforts to encourage horsebreeding — The Queen's "cercle" — The King at tennis — The King's evening — His coucher — Outward decorum of the Court of Henri II — Severity of Catherine — The Rohan-Nemours scandal — The Court in reality more corrupt than that of François I

Chapter XXIV

Intrigues of the Guises with Paul IV — Their audacious projects in Italy — Despatch of Cardinal Carlo Caraffa to France — Treaty of Fontainebleau between France and the Pope against Philip II of Spain — Guise's Italian expedition — Futile invasion of Naples — War on the northern frontier — England declares war against France — Saint-Quentin is besieged by the Spaniards — Disastrous defeat of the Constable in an attempt to revictual the town; Montmorency and Saint-André taken prisoners — Consternation in France — The heroic defence of Saint-Quentin by Coligny saves the situation — Expedition of Guise against Calais — Failure of the English Government to reinforce the garrison — Calais and Guines are taken, and the English expelled from France

Chapter XXV

The Guises turn the duke's brilliant military success to political account by hastening the marriage of their niece to the Dauphin — Madame de Valentinois, alarmed by the increasing power of her former protégés, resolves to redress the balance by an alliance with the captive Constable, and attempts, though without success, to delay the affair — Marriage of the Dauphin and Mary Stuart — Banquet and festivities at the Palais de Justice — Secret treaty signed by Mary Stuart at Fontainebleau — Unbearable arrogance of the Guises — Denunciation of the heresy of Andelot by the Cardinal de Lorraine — Henri II, irritated by the insolence of the Guises, desires peace and the return of the Constable — His letters to Montmorency — Guise takes Thionville — Disastrous defeat of Termes at Gravelines — Henri II and Philip II join their respective armies — A suspension of arms is agreed to, and negotiations for peace are begun at the Abbey of Cercamp — Interview between the King and the Constable at Beauvais — The Spanish plenipotentiaries demand the evacuation of Italy by the French — And, notwithstanding the desperate financial straits of Philip II, their demands are conceded — Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis — Indignation in France — Results of the treaty considered

Chapter XXVI

The Peace of Cateau-Cambrésis followed by a fresh outburst of persecution against the Protestants in France and the Netherlands — Retrospect of the measures adopted by Henri II for the repression of heresy: the Edict of Chateaubriand, the introduction of the Inquisition, and the Edict of Compiègne — Rapid spread of the Reformed doctrines in France — Disinclination of the Parlement of Paris to co-operate with the Government in the persecution — The King attends the mercuriale of June 10, 1559; — Bold speeches of Anne du Bourg and Louis du Faur — Henri II orders the arrest of the two counsellors and of three others — Fate of Du Bourg — Preparations for the Treaty marriages — Marriage of Philip II, represented by Alva, and Madame Élisabeth — The tournament of the Rue Saint-Antoine — Henri II mortally wounded in the eye by a splinter from the lance of Montgomery, captain of the Scottish Guard — His illness and death — His funeral — Disgrace of Diane de Poitiers — Her last years — Desecration of her tomb at Anet in 1795 — A singular discovery — Fate of the château — Fall of Montmorency — Subsequent career of Montgomery

LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS

[←Chapter Contents Prefatory Note →]

Henri II, King of France

From the painting by François Clouet in the Louvre. (Photo. Neurdein)

Claude de Valois, Queen of France

From an engraving after the drawing in the Louvre

François I, King of France

From an engraving after the drawing in the Bibliothèque Nationale

The Emperor Charles V

From a painting by an unknown Flemish artist in the Louvre. (Photo. Neurdein)

Pope Clement VII (Giulio de Medici)

From the painting by Bronzino in the Uffizi Gallery, Florence. (Photo. Alinari)

Catherine de Medici, Dauphine of France

After a drawing in the Bibliothèque Sainte-Genevieve

Henri de Valois, Duc d'Orleans (afterwards Henri II)

After the drawing by François Clouet in the Musée Condé, Chantilly. (Photo. Giraudon)

François de Valois, Dauphin of France, eldest son of François I

From the drawing by François Clouet in the Musée Condé, Chantilly. (Photo. Goupil)

Diane de Poitiers, Duchesse de Valentinois

From the painting in enamel by Léonard Limosin in the Musée Condé, Chantilly. (Photo. Goupil)

Anne, Duc de Montmorency, Constable of France

From the painting in enamel by Léonard Limosin in the Louvre. (Photo. Giraudon)

Guy Chabot, Sieur de Jarnac

From the drawing by François Clouet in the Bibliothèque Nationale. (Photo. Giraudon)

Catherine de Medici, Queen of France, about 1555

From a drawing by an unknown artist in the Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève. (Photo. Giraudon)

The Château of Anet in 1550

After a contemporary print

"Diane Chasseresse"

From an engraving after the statue by Jean Goujon in the Louvre

François de Lorraine, Duc de Guise

From a drawing attributed to C. Dumoustier in the Bibliothèque Nationale. (Photo. Giraudon)

François de Valois, Dauphin of France (afterwards François II)

From the drawing by François Clouet in the Musée Condé, Chantilly

Mary Stuart, Dauphine of France

After the drawing by François Clouet in the Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève

Prefatory Note

[←Illustrations Chapter I →]

THE principal authorities, both contemporary and modern, which I have consulted in the preparation of this volume are mentioned either in the text or the footnotes. I desire, however, to acknowledge my obligations to the following works by modern writers: Mr. Edward Armstrong, "The Emperor Charles V"; Armand Baschet, la Diplomatie vénitienne; M. Henri Bouchot, Catherine de Médicis; M. Edouard Bourciez, les Mœurs polies et la littérature de Cour sous Henri II; Madame Coignet, François I and Un gentilhomme des temps passés: François de Scépeaux, Sire de Vieilleville; M. François Decrue, Anne de Montmorency, grand maître et connétable de France, à la cour, aux armées, et au conseil du roi François Ier, and Anne, duc de Montmorency, connétable et pair de France, sous les rois Henri II, François II, et Charles IX; M. Henri Forneron, les Ducs de Guise et leur époque; Georges Guiffrey, les Lettres inédites de Dianne de Poytiers; François Mignet, la Rivalité de François I et de Charles-Quint; Hector de La Ferrière, les Lettres de Catherine de Médicis; Julia Pardoe, "The Court and Reign of Francis I"; Alfred von Reumont, Die Jugend Caterina's de' Medici; Baron Alphonse de Ruble, la Première Jeunesse de Marie Stuart; T. A. Trollope, "The Girlhood of Catherine de' Medici"; and the histories of Froude, Lavisse, Henri Martin, and Sismondi.

H. NOEL WILLIAMS

LONDON,

October, 1910.

Chapter I

Claude de France, first wife of François I — Conduct of the King towards her — Hostility of his mother, Louise of Savoy — Her retired life — Her children — Her vow to Saint-François de Paule — Birth of a Dauphin — Birth of Henri, Duc d'Orléans, afterwards Henri II — Death of the Queen— She is accounted a saint, and miracles are reported to have been performed at her tomb

FEW queens have left so little mark upon history as Claude de France, eldest daughter of Louis XII and Anne de Bretagne, and first wife of François I. One of the greatest heiresses of her time, she brought her husband the province of Brittany — which, if her mother had been allowed to have her way, would have gone, with the princess's hand, to young Charles of Austria, the future Charles V — and the counties of Asti, Coucy, Vertus, Étampes, Montfort, and Amaury; "and a dowry more precious still, an inexhaustible fund of kindness, sweetness, chastity and patience, in a word, all the virtues of her father."[01]

But alas! neither her great possessions, nor her many virtues, nor yet the pathetic devotion which she entertained for him, sufficed to win her more than a half-contemptuous tolerance from "le roi chevalier," who, though, in accordance with custom, he made it an invariable rule to pass the night with his consort, did not attempt to conceal his preference for the society of more attractive, if less estimable, ladies, of whom the too-celebrated Madame de Chateaubriand was the most favoured.[02] Nor were the neglect and infidelity of François the only trials which she had to endure. Often she found herself exposed to the imperious humour of the vindictive Louise of Savoy, Duchesse d'Angoulême,[03] who appears to have been resolved to avenge upon the innocent Claude all that she had suffered from the hatred of Anne de Bretagne, and to make her life as unhappy as possible.[04]

Neglected by her husband, slighted by her mother-in-law, and towards the end of her life a martyr to ill-health, the poor Queen took but little part in the amusements of the Court. Most of her time was passed in tapestry-work, in the embroidering of altar-cloths, in devotional exercises, and in works of charity. The only joys she appears to have known were those of maternity, which were not spared her, since, in her ten years of married life, she gave birth to seven children: three sons and four daughters.[05]

CLAUDE DE VALOIS, QUEEN OF FRANCE

FROM AN ENGRAVING AFTER THE DRAWING IN THE LOUVRE

Her first two children, to her intense disappointment, were both daughters, whereupon, we are told, having learned that Louise of Savoy had obtained the King through the prayers of Saint-François de Paule, she made a vow, in the presence of Père Binet, general of the Minims, and of several other persons of quality, that, if it should please God to grant her a son, she would give him the name of François, and cause François de Paule, who had already been beatified by Leo X, on the petition of Louis XII and Anne de Bretagne, to be canonised.

Her desire was accomplished, and "on the last day of February 1517,[06] the good, virtuous, and very perfect Queen of France gave birth to her first son, Dauphin of Viennois, in the town of Amboise, which was the occasion for great rejoicings throughout all the realm."[07]

This happy event was followed, thirteen months later, by the birth of a second son, who came into the world at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, "on the thirty-first and last day of March [1519], about six o'clock in the morning,"[08] and we learn, on the authority of the courtly Ronsard, that the Queen —

"Sitôt qu'elle se vit voisine d'accoucher,

Et que jà la douleur son coeur venoit toucher,

S'en vint à Saint-Germain où la bonne Lucine

Luz osta la douleur que l'on sent en gésine.

Adonc toy, fils semblable à ton père, nasquis,

Et sans armes naissant, un royaume conquis;

Lors les nymphes des bois, des taillis et des prées,

Des plaines et des monts et des forests sacrées,

Les naides de Seine et le bon saint Germain

Te couchant au berceau, te branloient en leur main

Et disoient: crois, enfant; enfant, prends accroissance

Pour l'ornement de nous et de toute la France."

This demi-god was the future Henri II, the subject of the present volume, the name Henri being given him out of compliment to Henry VIII of England, who stood godfather by procuration.

Of the childhood of Henri, upon whom the title of Duc d'Orléans was conferred, the chroniclers tell us nothing, save that it was chiefly passed in the company of his brothers and sisters at the Château of Amboise. When he was six years old he lost his mother, who died, at Blois, on July 20, 1524, unregretted, we fear, by her volatile husband, but mourned by the people, who had styled her "la bonne reine," and many of whom now accounted her a saint. Her body lay for some time in the chapel of Saint-Calais at Blois, before being conveyed to Saint-Denis, during which contemporary chroniclers assure us that several sick persons who had visited her tomb, "bearing offerings and candles," were cured of their ailments.[09]

Eighteen months after the death of their mother, Henri and his elder brother, the Dauphin François, found themselves called upon to play a part which, happily, has fallen to the lot of few princes of such tender years — nothing less than to leave their peaceful home on the banks of the Loire and to cross the Pyrenees into Spain, there to remain for four weary years as hostages in the hands of the Emperor Charles V, for the fulfilment of their father's engagements to that monarch. But, to understand how this came about, as well as the external difficulties which will confront Henri on his accession to the throne, we must go back to the beginning of the reign of François I.

Notes

(1) Gaillard, Histoire de François Ier.

(2) Françoise de Foix, daughter of Phébus de Foix, Vicomte de Lautrec, and of Jeanne d'Aydie, eldest daughter of Odet d'Aydie, Comte de Comminges. She was born about 1495, and married in 1509 Jean de Montmorency-Laval, Seigneur de Chateaubriand. If we are to believe Brantôme, François I, whose curiosity had been aroused by the fame of the lady's charms, had recourse to a stratagem to bring her to his Court, despite the desire of her husband to keep her beyond his Majesty's reach — namely, by having a facsimile made and forwarded to her of a ring which M. de Chateaubriand had arranged to send his wife, should he wish her to join him. Any way, the King fell in love with her, and in 1518 she became his mistress, and wore in public the jewels which he had given her, engraved with amorous devices, which the complaisant Marguerite d'Angoulême had composed, at her brother's request. Her influence was considerable and most unfortunate, for she brought about the disgrace of several old and faithful servants of the Crown, and obtained for her three brothers, Thomas, Seigneur de Lescun, Odet, Seigneur de Lautrec, and André, Seigneur de Lesparre, not only the highest dignities, but important military commands, for which they were quite unfitted. She appears to have had little affection for her royal lover, and was suspected of having bestowed her favours upon the King's favourite Bonnivet and the Connétable de Bourbon.

(3) Daughter of Philippe, Comte de Bresse, afterwards Duke of Savoy, and of Marguerite de Bourbon; born September 14, 1476; married in 1490 Charles d'Orléans, Comte d'Angoulême, and became the mother of François I and Marguerite, Queen of Navarre.

(4) Louise of Savoy, in her Journal, calls the universe to witness that she had always treated her daughter-in-law with affection and respect. "Every one knows it," she writes; "truth recognises it, experience proves it; moreover, common report proclaims it." Her indignant protestations, however, have been disregarded by historians, and there can be no doubt that her imperious airs severely tried the patience of the unfortunate Queen.

(5) Here is the list:

1. Louise, born in 1515; died in 1517.

2. Charlotte, born in 1516; died in 1524.

3. François, born in 1518; died in 1536.

4. Henri, born in 1519; succeeded to the throne as Henri II in 1547; died in 1559.

5. Madeleine, born in 1520; married in 1536 James V of Scotland; died in 1537.

6. Charles, born in 1522; died in 1545.

7. Marguerite, born in 1523; married in 1559 Emmanuel Philibert X, Duke of Savoy; died in 1574.

(6) 1518, according to modern chronology. At this period, the year began at Easter.

(7) Chronique de Bayard. The joyful mother did not forget her vow to Saint-François de Paule, whose canonisation took place in 1519, as the result of the representations made by the King and Queen of France to the Holy See, "their Majesties, with a liberality worthy of our Kings, defraying all the expenses."

(8) Journal d'un bourgeois de Paris sous la règne de François Ier (1515-1536), edited by Ludovic Lalanne (Paris, 1854).

(9) "And by reason of the great opinion which they held of her sanctity, several persons carried to her offerings and candles, and attest that they were cured and saved from some malady by her merits and intercessions. And likewise a notable lady, who affirmed that she had obtained, owing to her merits, the cure of a fever which had long time tormented her." — Chronique du roi François Ier.

"It was said that, after her death, the gentle lady performed miracles, her body being at Blois in the chapel of Saint-Calais, and that vows and candles of wax were offered to her. The good lady was very greatly beloved while alive and after her death, for she was all goodness and kindness and virtue." — Journal d'un bourgeois de Paris.

Chapter II

First Italian campaign of François I — Battle of Marignano and recovery of the Milanese — The Concordat — Treaties of Noyon and Cambrai — Character of the King — Disastrous consequences of the government of Louise of Savoy and her favourite Du Prat — Beginning of the rivalry of François I and Charles of Austria — Charles elected Emperor — Negotiations with England: the Field of the Cloth of Gold— War between François and Charles V begins — Early successes of the French — Reverses in Italy — League formed against France — The Connétable de Bourbon — A woman scorned — Conspiracy of Bourbon — His flight — The French compelled to evacuate Italy: death of Bayard — Invasion of Provence by the Imperialists — Siege of Marseilles — Retreat of the Imperialists — François again invades the Milanese — He occupies Milan and lays siege to Pavia — The Imperialists advance to the relief of the town — Battle of Pavia, in which the French army is destroyed, and the King is taken prisoner

THE reign of François I had opened in a blaze of glory. The temptation to embark upon those Italian enterprises for which France had paid so dearly during the two previous reigns proved too strong for the restless ambition of the new King, and, undeterred by the sad experiences of his predecessors, he at once resolved upon the recovery of the Milanese, the inheritance of which he claimed through his great-grandmother, Valentina Visconti, daughter of Gian Galeazzo, Duke of Milan. In order to dissolve the Holy League which had driven Louis XII from Italy and secure himself against external attack, he renewed with Henry VIII the treaty concluded by Louis XII in 1514, won over the Republic of Genoa, which commanded the communications between Milan and the sea, secured the co-operation of the Venetians, and negotiated with his future redoubtable rival the young Charles of Austria, sovereign of the Netherlands, a treaty of alliance, in which he promised him his sister-in-law Renée de France, younger daughter of the late King, in marriage, and engaged to assist him, when the time arrived, to secure the vast heritage of his two grandfathers, the Emperor Maximilian and Ferdinand the Catholic.

These negotiations completed, he assembled at Lyons a composite army of Gascons, French, and landsknechts, the strength of which is variously estimated at from 20,000 to 40,000 men, though the lesser total is probably nearer the mark, and placed himself at its head. In great alarm, Leo X, Maximilian Sforza, Duke of Milan, and the Spaniards renewed their former alliance, and the Swiss mercenaries of Maximilian promptly occupied the Alpine passes from Mont-Cenis to Mont-Genèvre. But François, guided by friendly peasants, succeeded in leading his army over the mountains by a pass to the south of Mont-Genèvre which had hitherto been deemed impracticable; and his great victory over the Swiss at Marignano (September 13-14, 1515) was speedily followed by the surrender of Milan.

After despatching Maximilian Sforza to Paris, where he lived in a kind of honourable captivity until his death in 1530,[01] François, with the object of securing his position in Italy, entered into negotiations with the Pope and the Swiss. With the latter he made a treaty which subsequently took the form of a perpetual peace and was destined to endure as long as the French monarchy. With Leo X, with whom he had several interviews at Bologna, he concluded, in February 1516, a "Concordat," which swept away that great charter of Gallican liberties the Pragmatic Sanction,[02] by recognising the superiority of the Holy See over all ecclesiastical councils, and restoring to it the annates and other rich sources of revenue, while giving the King of France the right of nominating to practically all vacant benefices. The Parlement of Paris and the University subsequently protested vehemently against this cynical bargain, which deprived the Gallican Church both of its wealth and its independence; but the only result of their remonstrances was that François ordered the imprisonment of several members of the University and took away from the Parlement all cognisance of ecclesiastical affairs.

Having disbanded the greater part of his victorious army and left the remainder, under the command of the Connétable de Bourbon, to occupy the newly-conquered territory, the King returned to France. On January 23, Ferdinand V had died, leaving the crowns of Spain and Naples to Charles of Austria. The latter, whose accession was encountering grave difficulties, seemed disposed towards peace and even an alliance with France; and in the following August a treaty was signed at Noyon, whereby Charles was pledged to marriage with the infant French princess, Louise, or, in the event of her death, to a younger sister yet unborn, or, failing such a birth, to Louis XII's second daughter, Renée, and to accept by way of dowry the rights of the Kings of France to the Crown of Naples. This was succeeded, thanks to Charles's good offices, by a reconciliation between the Emperor Maximilian and François, and in May 1517, a treaty of alliance between the three sovereigns was concluded at Cambrai, by which they mutually agreed to guarantee their dominions and to act in concert against the Turk, whose power was daily growing more threatening. To complete the pacification, François renewed his alliance with Venice (October 1517), and a year later came to an arrangement with Henry VIII, by which France recovered Tournai.

These successful negotiations, following the brilliant victory of Marignano, placed the crown upon the power and reputation of François. Enjoying, thanks to the absorption of the great fiefs, the Concordat, and the subserviency of the Parlements, an authority which no French monarch had ever before exercised, he seemed called to the first place among the princes of Europe. But for such a position he was eminently unfitted. His qualities, indeed, were superficial rather than solid. Brave, open-handed, magnificent, capable of generous and even lofty impulses, he was, at the same time, thanks to the deplorable training of his adoring mother, Louise of Savoy, vain, selfish, indolent, and easily led, without self-restraint, perseverance, or sense of duty. He had no taste for the stern business of government; he cared nothing for justice, nothing for economy. So long as he had money to squander on his incessant wars and his licentious pleasures, he was content to leave the management of affairs in the hands of Louise and her despicable favourite the Chancellor du Prat, "one of the most pernicious men who ever existed,"[03] both of whom showed a cynical indifference for law and justice which has seldom been surpassed, alienated many of the great nobles, ground down the people by aggravated taxation, and diverted immense sums into their own coffers. "Ce gros garçon nous gâtera tout," Louis XII had remarked sadly of his heir. His prediction came only too true.

Meantime, a rival had appeared upon the scene. It was the heir of the four dynasties — Burgundy, Austria, Castile, and Aragon — that sickly son of an insane mother,[04] who a little while before had seemed almost to court the friendship and protection of the all-conquering King of France.

In January 1519, the Emperor Maximilian died, and Charles offered himself to the suffrages of the Electors. The union of Spain, Naples, the Netherlands, and the Empire under one head was a contingency which it was impossible for François to contemplate without alarm, and one which he was determined to avert. Had he used his influence to secure the election of one of the other German princes, he would probably have succeeded in keeping Charles out; but dazzled by the brilliant prospect of becoming the lay head of Christendom, and the defender of the Faith against the Moslem, he entered the lists in person,[05] vowing that "he would have the Empire if it cost him three million crowns, and that three years after his election he would be in Constantinople or his grave." But neither the glamour of his military triumphs, nor the favour of the Pope, nor the mules laden with gold which he sent to support his pretentions, proved sufficient to balance the claims of a competitor whose House had already furnished six wearers of the Imperial purple, and whose hereditary dominions, bordering as they did on Turkey, enabled him to present himself as the natural defender of Germany. On July 5, 1519, the young King of Spain was elected without a single dissentient voice, and is henceforth known to history as Charles V.

The irritation of François at his defeat undoubtedly embittered his personal relations with his successful rival, and precipitated the outbreak of that long and sanguinary struggle, which, with an occasional breathing-space, was to continue until the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis in 1557, and which inherited disputes in regard to Navarre, Naples, Milan, Burgundy, and Flanders would in any case have rendered inevitable. Both sovereigns were sworn to remain at peace whatever the issue of the election, but in those days such engagements were but lightly regarded, and pretexts for violating them were seldom wanting. In view of the approaching conflict, the great aim of both was now to secure the alliance of England, and here again Fortune ultimately smiled on Charles. François invited Henry VIII to an interview, and in the month of June 1520, the two Courts, "bearing their mills, their forests and their meadows on their shoulders,"[06] met between Guines and Ardres, on a spot which received the name of the "Field of the Cloth of Gold."

Nothing came of this ruinous pageant, for, though François parted from his brother of England under the illusion that he was assured of his support, the latter had been merely acting a part. Wolsey, indeed, who guided Henry's policy, had been already gained over by Charles V, and a few days before the English King sailed for France the Emperor had landed at Dover, and an interview had taken place between the two monarchs. On taking leave of François, Henry journeyed to Gravelines to return his nephew's visit, and Charles escorted him back to Calais. The second interview effectually destroyed any impressions in favour of François which might have been left by the Field of the Cloth of Gold, and the King subsequently announced that he intended to adopt an attitude of strict neutrality towards the two rivals, and to declare against the aggressor.

The aggressor, as Henry VIII had doubtless foreseen, proved to be François, who, in April 1521,06b after several ineffectual efforts to gall his astute adversary into taking the offensive, struck the first blow, by sending an army under Bonnivet[07] into Navarre, to aid Henri d'Albret to recover his kingdom, and another under the Duc d'Alencon, first husband of his sister, Marguerite d'Angoulême, to assist Charles's rebellious vassal, Robert de la Marck, who from his little principality of Bouillon was devastating the southern borders of the Netherlands. Charles, on his side, retaliated by invading France and laying siege to Tournai, and concluded (May 8, 1521) a treaty with Leo X for the expulsion of the French from Italy, that Machiavellian pontiff having been induced to change sides, partly by the promise of territorial aggrandizement, and partly by the hope of inducing Charles to check the Reformation in Germany, by procuring the Diet's condemnation of Luther.

At first, the fortune of war inclined to François's side. The Swiss in the Papal service were reluctant to fight against their brethren in French pay, and little impression was made on the defences of the Milanese; Bonnivet surprised Fontarabia, the key of North-Western Spain; and the Count of Nassau, who commanded the army which had invaded France, was compelled by the advance of a superior force under the King in person to raise the siege of Mezières and fall back hurriedly across the frontier, leaving the French to ravage Hainaut and Western Flanders. François was strongly advised to pursue and fall upon the retreating Imperialists, but he hesitated and allowed them to escape him. "If he had attacked them," writes Guillaume Du Bellay, "the Emperor would that day have lost both honour and fortune. . . . He was at Valenciennes in such despair that during the night he fled to Flanders with a hundred horse. That day, God had delivered our enemies into our hands; but we would not accept the gift, a refusal which afterwards cost us dear."[08]

So hopeless, however, seemed Charles's position in the autumn of 1521, that Wolsey, who on August 2 had concluded on behalf of Henry VIII a secret agreement with the Emperor at Bruges, implored him to accept a truce, and his aunt Margaret of Austria[09] used her influence in the same direction. But Charles refused to consent to such a step, and his obstinacy was quickly justified, for on November 25, the day after Wolsey, with many misgivings, had signed the treaty confirming the Bruges agreement and pledging England to an offensive alliance with the Emperor, came the news that the Imperialists and the Papal forces, aided by a popular rising, had occupied Milan.

The tide now turned strongly against France: Tournai at once capitulated; the incapable Lautrec,[10] who commanded for François in Italy, left without money, supplies, or reinforcements, retreated towards the Swiss frontier, and all the towns of Lombardy, with the exception of a few scattered fortresses, followed the example of the capital. As the months passed, the outlook grew more and more gloomy. The death of Leo X (December 21, 1521) was followed by the election to the Pontifical chair of the Emperor's old tutor, Adrian of Utrecht; at the end of the following April, Lautrec, who, reinforced by the Venetians and 16,000 Swiss mercenaries, had re-entered the Milanese, rashly attacked the Imperialists in their almost impregnable position at La Bicocca, a country-house surrounded by a great moat near Milan, with the result that he met with a disastrous repulse and was compelled to evacuate Italy altogether, while shortly afterwards Henry VIII declared war against France, and an English force invaded Picardy, though it effected little.

The summer of 1523 witnessed the formation of a general league against France, which comprised the Pope, the Emperor, Henry VIII, Charles V's younger brother Ferdinand, Archduke of Austria, Francesco Sforza, now again Duke of Milan, Venice, Savoy, Florence, Montferrato, and Lucca; while, at the very moment when all the resources of the kingdom were being strained to the utmost to make head against this formidable coalition, came the defection of the Connétable de Bourbon.

A few words concerning Bourbon and the reasons which induced him to betray his sovereign and his country may not be without interest.

Charles de Bourbon-Montpensier, head of the younger branch of the House of Bourbon, was, thanks to his marriage with his cousin, Suzanne de Bourbon, heiress of the elder branch of that family,[11] the most powerful feudal prince in France, and until the birth of sons to François I had been heir presumptive to the throne. Never had there been a more magnificent noble; in all Europe no one could vie with him in splendour or generosity. At the supper which followed the King's coronation he appeared wearing a robe of gold cloth, with a train twelve ells long lined with ermine, and a velvet cap sparkling with precious stones, which were said to be worth a hundred thousand crowns. When, in 1517, he entertained François at Moulins, where he kept almost regal state, the King was served at the banqueting-table by five hundred gentlemen in velvet costumes, each wearing a gold chain passed three times round his neck.

But Bourbon had other titles to respect besides his wealth and magnificence. He was one of the most renowned soldiers of his time, who had greatly distinguished himself in the Italian wars of Louis XII, and had had no inconsiderable share in the victory of Marignano; a just man in the highest sense of the word, ruling his people and his soldiers with equal firmness and gentleness, while, in a licentious age, his private life seems to have been comparatively pure. Unfortunately, he was also ambitious, imperious, and overweeningly proud, and this, combined with his immense power and popularity, ended by arousing the resentment of François I, who, though he had created Bourbon Constable of France on his accession to the throne, soon began to treat him with marked coldness.

The King's attitude appears to have been largely due to the malevolent insinuations of Louise of Savoy, who, notwithstanding that she was fourteen years the Constable's senior, had conceived for him a violent passion, and had never forgiven his contemptuous rejection of her advances. Any way, when war broke out in 1521, although Bourbon had raised at his own expense a force of 800 men-at-arms and 6,000 foot, François would not trust him with any command, and in the Flemish campaign even refused him the right to lead the vanguard, on the pretext that he wished to keep him near his own person. This affront deeply wounded the pride of Bourbon; but it proved to be but an earnest of what was in store for him. Towards the close of the year his wife died, and her death was soon followed by that of his three sons and his mother-in-law, Madame de Bourbon, his staunchest supporter at the Court. Thereupon Louise of Savoy claimed her cousin Suzanne's inheritance, alleging that the marriage-contract, which had assured the inheritance of the Bourbon possessions to the survivor, was null and void; while the Attorney-General, Lizet, asserted that the duchies of Auvergne and the Bourbonnais, with the county of Clermont, reverted to the Crown by inalienable right. At the same time, it was suggested to the Constable that all conflicting interests might easily be reconciled by his consenting to marry the King's mother; but he repulsed the proposal with scorn, declaring that "never would he wed a shameless woman." These words were reported to Louise, who, beside herself with indignation, determined to leave no stone unturned to compass his ruin, and, thanks to the machinations of Du Prat, in August 1523, the Parlement of Paris sequestrated all Bourbon's estates, and referred the case to the King's Council, whose decision was, of course, a foregone conclusion.

The shameful persecution to which he was subjected had already proved too great a strain on the Constable's loyalty and patriotism, and since the previous autumn he had been in communication with the agents of Charles V. The Emperor hoped much from Bourbon's defection, and, though the latter's terms were high, he resolved to accede to them; and in the spring of 1523 a secret treaty for the dismemberment of France was concluded between the Constable, Charles, and Henry VIII, by which it was agreed that, in the event of success, an independent kingdom should be given to Bourbon, composed of Aries, Dauphiné, and Provence, with his former possessions of Auvergne and the Bourbonnais, and the hand of the Emperor's eldest sister Eleanor, Queen-Dowager of Portugal;[12] while the Emperor received as his share of the spoil Burgundy, Champagne, and Picardy, and Henry VIII the old English inheritance in the south and west.

Had Bourbon issued his challenge to his ungrateful sovereign from his own dominions, it might have awakened a response which would have torn the sceptre from François's grasp, for the whole country was seething with discontent under the intolerable burdens laid upon it for a war in which neither noble, citizen, nor peasant had any interest. But he delayed too long; his plans were discovered, and he was obliged to fly for his life to Italy, where he arrived with but a scanty following, and accepted a command in the Imperial Army of Italy under Lannoy, Viceroy of Naples.[13]

Although Bourbon's conspiracy had failed, the uneasiness which it aroused, joined to a combined invasion of the English and Imperialists, who advanced to within eleven leagues of Paris, prevented François from again leading the French across the Alps, as he had intended. He remained at Lyons, and entrusted the command of the invading army to Bonnivet, who owed his appointment to the solace for Bourbon's disdain which he had brought to Louise of Savoy's wounded heart. Less successful in the field than in the boudoir, he proved no match for the ex-Constable and the Imperialist generals Lannoy and Pescara,[14] and in the spring of 1524, weakened by the desertion of the Swiss, who declared that François's failure to send the reinforcement of cavalry which he had promised[15] freed them from their engagements, he was driven back across the Sesia. His retreat has been rendered memorable by the death of the celebrated Bayard — "le chevalier sans peur et sans reproche" — which occurred on April 30.

The Imperialists pressed the French hard, and the latter only escaped destruction through the gallantry with which Bayard, who commanded the rear-guard, covered the retreat. He saved the army, however, at the cost of his own life, for, after seeing many of his officers fall around him, he himself was struck by "une pierre d'arquebuse," which passed through his body and shattered his spine. When he felt himself wounded, he exclaimed, "Jésus!" and then observed, "Hélas, mon Dieu, je suis mort!" He kissed the hilt of his sword, which was in the form of a cross, and requested those about him to assist him from his horse and lay him at the foot of a tree, with his face turned towards the enemy; and then begged them to leave him and seek their own safety. A few moments later, Bourbon, who was hotly pursuing the French, in the hope of making Louise's minion, Bonnivet, a prisoner, galloped up, and expressed his pity at seeing him in this extremity. "Monsieur," replied the dying hero, "there is no need to pity me, for I die a man of honour. But I pity you, to see you in arms against your prince, your country, and your oath!" Bourbon rode away without replying; but Pescara, who came up soon afterwards, directed that everything possible should be done to alleviate the wounded man's sufferings, declaring that he would have willingly shed "the half of his blood" to have taken him unhurt; while his officers crowded round "with great mourning and lamentation," for Bayard had made war with humanity and courtesy, and they esteemed him almost as much as did the French. All their care, however, was, of course, unavailing, and in a little while the "flower of all chivalry" breathed his last. His magnanimous foes caused his body to be transported to Dauphiné; and from the foot of the Alps to Grenoble it was escorted by immense crowds. There it was laid to rest in his family vault in the Convent of the Minims; and "all fêtes, dances, banquets, and pastimes ceased for a month in the province."[16]

After the death of Bayard the army continued its retreat and re-entered Dauphiné by the Lower Valais; the last French garrisons of Lombardy capitulated, and not a rod of Italian soil remained to François I.

The peninsula once cleared of the French, the Pope[17] and the other Italian members of the coalition wished to make peace with France and to secure the withdrawal of the Spanish and German troops, who exercised over the provinces which they had "delivered" a domination even more insolent and oppressive than the soldiers of François. But the Emperor desired to remain master of Italy and to follow up his successes against France; and when Clement appealed to Henry VIII to use his influence on behalf of a general pacification, Wolsey, who was naturally inclined to look coldly upon overtures coming from his successful rival for the tiara, and wished to reserve to himself the honour of regulating the destiny of Europe, caused the proposal to be rejected.[18]

The Pope, the Venetians, and the Tuscan republics then withdrew from the league and announced their intention of observing a strict neutrality; but the other members renewed their offensive alliance against France, and at the beginning of July an army of some 18,000 men, under the command of Bourbon, advanced rapidly along the Corniche road, crossed the Var, and entered Provence.

This sudden invasion was totally unexpected by François, who was quite unprepared to meet it. Bourbon, aware of this, had conceived the bold plan of marching straight upon Lyons, by way of Provence and Dauphiné, in the belief that, if he penetrated to the heart of the kingdom, the discontented nobles, particularly those of his own former dominions, would hasten to rally round him. There was undoubtedly much to be said for this course, though the ex-Constable perhaps over-estimated the strength of the rebellious faction. However, Charles V had other views. He was set upon the capture of Marseilles — the half-way house between Genoa and Barcelona — which would convert the Gulf of Lions into a Spanish lake and definitely transfer the sea-power on the Mediterranean from France to Spain;[19] and Pescara, who had been associated with Bourbon, and the Spanish officers refused their consent to his project, and insisted on his undertaking the conquest of Provence.

With the exception of Aix, whose defence was protracted for over a month, most of the Provençal towns opened their gates after scarcely a show of resistance, and on August 19 the Imperialists laid siege to Marseilles. The ramparts were ill-fitted to withstand artillery; the inhabitants, in common with all the Provençals, bore no very high reputation for courage;[20] and Bourbon declared that "three cannon-shots would so astonish the good citizens that they would come with halters round their necks to bring him the keys of their town." His calculations were grievously at fault, for the "good citizens" of Marseilles offered an heroic resistance,[21] and when a breach had been made in the ramparts, threw up with astonishing rapidity a formidable earthwork, which was called "le rempart des dames," since all the women in the town had assisted in its construction. A Spanish squadron which was blockading the port was defeated by the French fleet under the famous naval condottiere Andrea Doria, then in the service of France, who was thus able to throw provisions into Marseilles; while the investing army, whose supplies reached them with difficulty, suffered severe privations. Finally, towards the end of September, the inactivity of the Emperor and Henry VIII — the one through lack of means, the other through lack of will — for Wolsey was already negotiating with France — enabled François to assemble at Avignon a formidable army for the relief of the town, upon which the Imperialists raised the siege and retreated into Italy.

Emboldened by the retirement of the enemy, François determined to make another descent into the Milanese and revenge in person the reverses of Lautrec and Bonnivet and the invasion to which his realm had just been exposed, by the splendour of a conquest which he believed to be certain, and which he intended should be permanent. His most experienced generals, who had begun to entertain an almost superstitious dread of Italy, and to regard it as a tomb in which successive French armies were destined to be swallowed up,[22] endeavoured to dissuade him from undertaking a campaign so late in the year. But he would hear of no delay, and, early in October, having nominated his mother Regent, at the head of 40,000 men, who included the flower of the French nobility, he marched rapidly through Dauphiné and over Mont-Genèvre into Italy, with the intention of cutting off the retreating Imperialists from Lombardy.

In this he all but succeeded; indeed, he entered Milan by the western gate as Bourbon and Pescara retired through the eastern and fell back on Lodi. Here Pescara entrenched himself in a strong position, in order to defend the line of the Adda; while Bourbon hastened into Germany to raise a force of mercenaries. Pescara's troops were worn out with sickness and privation; they had received no pay for months, and were utterly discouraged; and if François had attacked the disorganised army before Bourbon could return, he would probably have broken it up beyond all hope of rally. Instead of doing so, however, he laid siege to Pavia, which blocked the road from Milan southwards, and into which Pescara in his retreat had thrown a force of some 6,000 men, under Antonio de Leyva, a brave and capable officer. The King's decision has been severely condemned by French historians; but, as Mr. Armstrong points out in his admirable monograph on Charles V, it was not unreasonable. "The garrison," he says, "was mainly German, and was thought unlikely to hold out without its pay; the occupation of Pavia would exercise pressure on Florence and the Papacy, for Clement VII, at the first sign of Imperial failure, had begun to veer towards France; Pavia would serve as a base for an advance on Naples; after all, sooner or later, it must be besieged, for its powerful garrison could not be left in the rear of a force with a long line of communications stretching from Naples back to Milan."

FRANÇOIS I KING OF FRANCE

FROM AN ENGRAVING AFTER THE DRAWING IN THE BIBLIOTHÈQUE NATIONALE

But François committed a fatal error when, contrary to the advice of La Palice, the new Constable,[23] he proceeded to weaken his army by detaching 4,000 men to attack Genoa and sending nearly three times that number, under John Stuart, the last Duke of Albany,[24] to the frontier of Naples. For Antonio de Leyva succeeded in inspiring the garrison and citizens of Pavia with his own indomitable spirit, and the stubborn defence of the town caused the siege to degenerate into a blockade and gave time to Pescara to reorganise his forces behind the shelter of the Adda; to Bourbon to return from Germany with a strong force of landsknechts, which his great name had attracted to his banner; and to Lannoy, the Viceroy of Naples, to join his colleagues at the head of a considerable body of Spaniards and Italians.

Towards the end of January, the Imperialists quitted their camp at Lodi,[25] and advanced to the relief of Pavia. François's most prudent officers, La Palice, La Trémoille, and the Grand Master of the Artillery, Galiot de Génouillac, warned him of the danger of permitting himself to be shut in between the relieving army and the garrison of Pavia, and urged that they should temporarily raise the siege and retire on Milan, or occupy a strong defensive position in the environs. Bonnivet and the junior officers, however, cried out with one voice against this proposal, the former declaring that "we other Frenchmen are not accustomed to make war by military artifices, but with banners waving, particularly when we have for general a valiant king, who ought to inspire the greatest poltroons to combat bravely."[26] Such advice was too much in accord with François's own inclinations not to be acceptable, and he accordingly determined to remain before Pavia.

It must be admitted that the position which he took up was one of great strength. Earthworks bristling with cannon protected his front; his right was sheltered by the Ticino; while his left lay within the high walls of the park of Mirabello, the favourite villa of the dukes of Milan, whose beauties had been so often celebrated by the poets and artists of Italy.

For three weeks the Imperialists remained in sight of the French camp without attempting any decisive movement, though they succeeded in throwing a supply of ammunition into Pavia. By that time their provisions were exhausted, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that their generals could prevent the army from disbanding. On the other hand, François's forces had been still further reduced by the withdrawal of 6,000 Swiss mercenaries, who had been recalled to the Grisons to defend their valleys against a condottiere in the pay of Charles V, who had seized Chiavenna, on Lake Como. Their departure, however, left the French still superior to the enemy, particularly in cavalry and artillery. At length, faced with the alternative of fighting or disbanding, the Imperialist generals decided to attack,[27] and in the early hours of St. Matthias's Day (February 24) they advanced to the assault of the French position. During the night, several companies of soldiers and sappers had been detached to breach the Mirabello wall, which, as we have mentioned, covered the French left, and had succeeded in doing so in three places; and it was on these points that the Imperialists directed their attack.

Accounts of the battle which followed are many and unusually conflicting, but the following details seem to be well authenticated:

The flank march of the Imperialists over the open ground which lay between them and the French exposed them to so murderous an artillery fire that, according to Du Bellay, "you saw only arms and heads flying in the air." To check this havoc, Pescara issued orders for the troops to take shelter in a hollow to the northward of the French position, for which they accordingly made, the infantry at the double and the cavalry at a gallop. Observing this, François concluded that the Imperialists were in full retreat and that victory was assured, and charged furiously down from the rising ground which he occupied, at the head of his bodyguard of nobles and gentlemen and the French men-at-arms. By this movement, he not only got between his own artillery and the enemy, and obliged the gunners to cease fire,[28] but cut himself off from the main body, and left his centre and right wing unsupported by cavalry. As soon as the King charged, the whole army quitted their entrenchments and pressed forwards likewise, the landsknechts, led by the attainted Duke of Suffolk[29] and François de Lorraine, younger brother of Claude, Duc de Guise, being on the right, the Swiss in the centre, and the French foot on the left.

The King at first carried all before him, killed with his lance the Marchese di Civita San-Angelo, who led the Imperialist light horse,[30] scattered the men-at-arms of Lannoy, and broke right through a body of pikemen. But Pescara and Bourbon rallied the fugitives; and the steady fire of the Spanish arquebusiers, which no armour could withstand, checked the triumphant progress of the French men-at-arms and drove them back upon the Swiss, whom they threw into hopeless disorder. In the meanwhile, the landsknechts on the French right were attacked on one flank by their compatriots in the Imperial service, and on the other by some Spanish battalions, and, after a gallant struggle, were overwhelmed by numbers and perished almost to a man, both Suffolk and François de Lorraine being killed. The victorious troops then advanced against the disordered Swiss, upon whom the arquebusiers were now directing their fire, and, disheartened by the fate of their German allies, the Swiss gave way and retreated towards Milan. On the left, the Duc d'Alencon, who commanded the cavalry of that wing, lost his head on learning of the defeat of the right, and fled without striking a blow, followed by his men;[31] and, though the French infantry, under La Palice, offered a stout resistance, they eventually shared the fate of the Germans, the Constable being amongst the slain.[32] Finally, Antonio de Leyva sallied out from Pavia, dispersed the corps which had been left to hold him in check, destroyed the bridge over the Ticino — the principal avenue of escape — and fell upon the rear of the French cavalry whom François had so imprudently led to the charge, and who were now the only troops which still held their ground. They, comprising as they did the élite of the French nobility, and inspired by the example of their King, performed prodigies of valour, but, hemmed in on every side by overwhelming numbers, their courage was useless; François's horse fell dead under him,[33] and the King, who had already been wounded in three places, was made prisoner, and almost all his followers were either killed or taken. Never, indeed, had there been so great a slaughter of nobles. Besides Suffolk, François de Lorraine, and La Palice, who had fallen earlier in the engagement, the gallant old Louis de la Tremoille, who had taken part in every war which France had waged since the accession of Charles VIII, Louis d'Ars, the kinsman and teacher of Bayard, René, the Bastard of Savoy, Grand-Master of France,[34] the Grand Equerry San-Severino, chief of the French party in the kingdom of Naples, the Maréchal de Foix, and Bonnivet were either killed or mortally wounded; while Henri d'Albret, King of Navarre, the Comte de Saint-Pol, brother of the Duc de Vendôme,[35] Anne de Montmorency, afterwards Constable of France, Chabot de Brion, afterwards Admiral, the Prince de Talmont, heir of La Trémoille, and the Sénéchal d'Armagnac were among the prisoners. In less than two hours France was deprived of her sovereign and a whole generation of paladins. Altogether, it is believed that over 10,000 of the French and their auxiliaries perished on the field of battle, or were drowned in attempting to escape across the Ticino, and at least 4,000 were taken prisoners. The loss of the victors was comparatively small, probably not more than 1,000.

Notes

(1) Thus history repeated itself in a singular manner, for Maximilian's father, Ludovico il Moro, had been dispossessed of his duchy by Louis XII and carried away captive to France, where he died, in 1510, at the Château of Loches.

(2) By the Pragmatic Sanction, which had been promulgated at Bourges in 1438, the authority of the Pope was subordinated to periodical General Councils; the free election of bishops, abbots, and priors was guaranteed to chapters and communities; and the various extortions, known as annates, réserves and expectatives, by which a great part of the ecclesiastical revenues of France went to fill the Papal coffers, were suppressed. Successive pontiffs had made great efforts to secure its revocation, but until now without success.

(3) Regnier de la Planche.

(4) Juana, second daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella — Jeanne la Folle, as the French called her.

(5) He came forward in theory as a German prince, basing his claim on his lordship of the old kingdom of Arles, a fief of the Empire.

(6) Du Bellay, Mémoires.

(6b) [Kindle note: the original here reads "1721".]

(7) Guillaume Gouffier, Seigneur de Bonnivet, born about 1488; killed at the battle of Pavia, February 24, 1524. Educated with François I, to whom his elder brother was gouverneur, he became a great favourite with that prince. He was sent on a diplomatic mission to England in 1518, and represented François at the Diet of Frankfurt the following year. He was celebrated for his gallant adventures, and carried his temerity to the point of becoming his master's rival in the affections of Madame de Chateaubriand and of laying siege to the heart of the King's sister. In the latter enterprise he was unsuccessful, and in an attempt to take by storm the fortress he had failed to reduce, he was vigorously repulsed, and bore for some time the proofs of his defeat upon his face. Marguerite has herself related the details of this affair in the fourth nouvelle of the Heptaméron.

(8) Du Bellay, Mémoires.

(9) Daughter of the Emperor Maximilian and Mary of Burgundy; born 1840; married first, in 1497, Don John, son of Ferdinand and Isabella; secondly, in 1512, Philibert le Beau, Duke of Savoy; Governess of the Netherlands; died 1530.

(10) Odet de Foix, Vicomte de Lautrec (1485-1525), was the second of the three brothers of François's mistress, Madame de Chateaubriand, and probably owed his command to his sister's influence. He had taken part in the Italian wars of Louis XII, and had been severely wounded at the battle of Ravenna in 1512, while endeavouring to save his cousin and commanding officer Gaston de Foix. He had also distinguished himself at Marignano. Lautrec was an extremely brave soldier and not without military talent; but his vanity and obstinacy rendered him unfit for the post of general-in-chief. Brantôme, however, has devoted a chapter to him in his Grands Capitaines Françoises.

(11) Grand-daughter of Pierre II de Bourbon and of Anne de Beaujeu, daughter of Louis XI.

(12) Born at Louvain in 1498. At the age of sixteen she fell desperately in love with Frederick, Prince Palatine, but her brother refused to hear of such an alliance, and married her, in 1519, to the old King of Portugal, Manoel the Great, by whom she was left a widow two years later.

(13) Charles, Marquis de Lannoy, born at Valenciennes in 1487, and brought up with the future Emperor, who was greatly attached to him. He was made a Knight of the Golden Fleece in 1515, and Viceroy of Naples in 1521.

(14) Francesco Ferrante d'Avalos, Marchese di Pescara, a member of a noble Neapolitan family of Spanish origin, and the husband of the celebrated poetess Vittoria Colonna, who consecrated many of her poems to his memory. The Italian historian Vettori describes him as arrogant, envious, avaricious, vindictive, and cruel, and "born expressly for the ruin of Italy"; but, however that may be, he was adored by his soldiers and was by far the ablest general whom Charles V possessed at this time.

(15) This reinforcement had been duly despatched by the King, but it had been delayed on the march.

(16) Du Bellay, Mémoires; la Très joyeuse, plaisante et récreative histoire du gentil Seigneur de Bayard, composée par le Loyal Serviteur, publié par J. Roman (Paris, 1878).

(17) Adrian IV had died in September 1523, and had been succeeded by Cardinal Giulio de Medici, who assumed the name of Clement VII.

(18) Henri Martin, Histoire de France.

(19) Armstrong, "The Emperor Charles V."

(20) There was a saying that, whereas in the rest of France every man could wield a sword, the Provençals could scarcely hold a knife.

(21) Du Bellay relates that one day a cannon-shot from the town passed through Pescara's tent, killing his almoner and two of his attendants. Pescara sent the deadly missile to Bourbon. "Here," wrote he ironically, "are the keys which the citizens of Marseilles bring you."

(22) Mignet, la Rivalité de François Ier et de Charles-Quint.

(23) Jacques de Chabannes, Seigneur de la Palice. He was a member of a family famous for its warriors, and one of the oldest of the French marshals, having served with distinction in the Italian wars of Charles VIII.

(24) Son of Alexander Stuart, second son of James II, and Anne de la Tour d'Auvergne. He had been brought up in France, which he looked upon as his country, and, though he was Regent of Scotland during the minority of James V, he passed but some three years there.

(25) Their army was composed of a little over 20,000 infantry, 500 light horse, and 200 men-at-arms, with a few pieces of cannon. Its strength lay in the Spanish arquebusiers, at this period the best marksmen in Europe, and the serried masses of intrepid landsknechts, under the command of Luther's friend, George Frundsberg. — Mignet.

(26) Brantôme, Vie des grands capitaines.

(27) Pescara's harangue to his starving Spaniards on the night before the battle is worthy of reproduction: "My lads, Fortune has placed you in such an extremity that on the soil of Italy you have nothing on your side except what is under your feet; all the rest is against you. The whole power of the Emperor could not provide you to-morrow morning with a single morsel of bread. We know not where to obtain it, unless in the French camp, which is before your eyes. There, there is everything in abundance — bread, wine, meat. And so, my lads, if you intend to eat to-morrow, let us march to the French camp."

(28) "Il couvrit son artillerie et lui ôta le moyen de jouer son jeu." — Du Bellay.

(29) Richard de la Pole, son of John de la Pole, second Duke of Suffolk and younger brother of John, Earl of Lincoln (killed at Stoke in 1487), and Edmund (executed in 1513). He had been attainted in 1504, and exempted from the general amnesty on the accession of Henry VIII. The French called him "Rose blanche," to distinguish him from Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, the second husband of Mary Tudor.

(30) "His Majesty sent to Heaven the Marchese di S. Angelo, whom he slew with his own hand." — Letter of Marco Paolo Luzascho, cited by Ranke, "History of Germany."

(31) On his arrival at Lyons, his wife and mother-in-law overwhelmed him with such bitter reproaches that he died of grief two months later.

(32) His horse having been killed under him, he had surrendered to a Neapolitan officer named Castaldo, when a Spaniard, jealous of the Italian's good fortune, blew out the distinguished prisoner's brains with an arquebus.

(33)

"Et là je fuz longuement combattu,

Et mon cheval mort soubz moy abattu."

— Epître de François Ier, in Champollion, Captivité du roi François Ier.

(34) He was a natural son of Philip, Duke of Savoy, by Bona da Romagnano, a Piedmontese lady, and therefore half-brother of Louise of Savoy.

(35) The King of Navarre and Saint-Pol subsequently succeeded in effecting their escape.

Chapter III

François in captivity — His letter to his mother — Critical situation of France: energetic measures of Louise of Savoy — Demands of Charles V — The King is removed to Spain— Truce of six months granted by the Emperor — François's journey to Madrid — His rigorous imprisonment in the Alcazar — He falls seriously ill, and is visited by Charles V — Arrival of the Duchesse d'Alencon (Marguerite d'Angoulême) — The King is believed to be dying: scene at his bedside — His recovery — Negotiations at Toledo: the Emperor insists on the cession of Burgundy — François announces his intention of abdicating in favour of the Dauphin, but changes his mind and directs the French envoys to accede to the Emperor's demands — Treaty of Madrid — Stipulation that the two elder sons of the King, or the Dauphin and twelve of the principal personages of the kingdom, are to be delivered up as hostages — Charles V's reasons for consenting to the release of his rival considered — François swears to execute the treaty, but makes a formal protest against it privately — Betrothal of the King to the Emperor's eldest sister, Eleanor, Queen-Dowager of Portugal — He remains a prisoner in the Alcazar — Meeting between him and the Emperor — Visit of the two monarchs to Queen Eleanor at Illescas — François sets out for France — Louise of Savoy decides to send Henri, as well as the Dauphin, as a hostage to Spain — The English Ambassador's impressions of the young princes — The exchange of the King for his sons takes place on the Bidassoa — Joy of François on regaining his freedom — Departure of the princes for Vittoria

THE day after the battle, François I was conducted to the citadel of Pizzighitone, there to await the Emperor's pleasure. Before leaving the Imperialists' camp, the captive monarch wrote to his mother the letter in which occurs that phrase which tradition reshaped for him into the famous "Tout est perdu fors l'honneur." Here is the actual text:

"Madame, in order that you may be acquainted with the rest of my misfortunes, know that of all things there remains to me naught save honour and life, which are safe."

And he adds:

"And, so that in your adversity this news may bring you a little consolation, I have requested permission to write you this letter, which has been readily accorded me; begging you not to despair, but to employ your usual prudence; for I have hopes that in the end God will not abandon me; recommending your grandchildren and my children to your care and requesting you to give a safe-conduct to the bearer of this to go to and to return from Spain, for he journeys to the Emperor, to learn in what manner he wishes me to be treated."[01]

For the moment, it certainly seemed that François had not exaggerated the gravity of the situation. The overwhelming disaster of Pavia not only rendered the loss of Italy certain, but it exposed France herself to the gravest peril. With her King a prisoner, the troops to whom she looked for her defence against foreign aggression destroyed or dispersed, her best generals dead or in captivity, her treasury exhausted, it was difficult to see how she could escape dismemberment, if her enemies prosecuted the war with vigour before she had time to recover from the blow which she had received; while, even if they stayed their hands, the disturbed condition of the country and the hatred with which the Regent and Du Prat were regarded threatened serious trouble.

However, Louise of Savoy, with all her faults and her vices, did not lack courage and capacity, and took energetic steps to meet the danger. She assembled at Lyons what troops she could muster and entrusted the command to the Duc de Vendome, with whom she associated Lautrec and Claude de Lorraine, Duc de Guise. She summoned delegates from the Parlement of Paris to Lyons, "gave them many fair words" and submitted to them the measures which she proposed to take for the preservation of the kingdom.[02] She convened a council of notables, which controlled Louise herself sometimes, but which put an end to all dissension, at least so far as regarded armaments and foreign negotiations; and she sought friends everywhere, "even in hell," since not only did she renew the old alliance with the Venetians, and induce Henry VIII, jealous of the growing power of the Emperor, to recall his troops from the frontier of Picardy and enter into a treaty of neutrality with her, but opened negotiations with the Porte, the first of that long series of friendly dealings between France and Turkey directed against the House of Austria.

Even before the defection of England, whose co-operation was of course essential to the success of a fresh invasion of France, Charles V had already abandoned all idea of such an undertaking, which would have entailed demands upon the Imperial coffers which they were at that moment in no condition to meet, and had decided to confine his efforts to the exaction of a favourable treaty. He announced that he intended to use his victory with moderation, but, though his terms were not unjust, they could scarcely be called moderate, including as they did the cession of the duchy of Burgundy, with its dependencies of Maçon, Auxerre, Auxonne, and Bar-sur-Seine. The indignation in France was extreme when they were made known; while François refused even to consider them. However, Charles believed that his rival's impatience of imprisonment would ere long assure their acceptance.

In June, Lannoy, at François's own request, took upon himself the responsibility of removing the illustrious prisoner to Spain, in order that he might treat in person with the Emperor.[03] The King sailed from Genoa on June 10, and arrived at Barcelona nine days later, where he was lodged in the palace of the Archbishop of Tarragona and treated with all the honours due to royalty. Next day, he re-embarked and sailed for Valencia, where he was conducted to the castle of Benisano, which belonged to the governor of the province, Don Geronimo Cabanillas.

Charles V was then at Toledo, holding the Cortes of Castile, and thither Lannoy proceeded, to ascertain the wishes of his master in regard to his royal captive. François, on his side, sent Anne de Montmorency, who had accompanied him to Spain,[04] to demand a personal interview with the Emperor, which he believed would suffice to smooth over all difficulties; a truce which would permit François de Tournon, Archbishop of Embrun, and Jean de Selve, First President of the Parlement of Paris, to come to Spain, furnished with powers from the Regent to treat regularly for peace, and a safe-conduct for his sister, the Duchesse d'Alençon, whose presence would console his captivity and serve to facilitate the negotiations.

After some hesitation, Charles consented to the truce, which was to last six months, and accorded the safe-conduct for the Duchesse d'Alençon, at the same time intimating that if the princess did not arrive with power to surrender Burgundy, she might spare herself the fatigue of the journey. On the question of the interview which François had demanded he was silent, being resolved not to see his prisoner until after the negotiations had been concluded.[05]

In order that the French envoys on their arrival might be able to communicate easily with their sovereign, Charles directed that the King should be transferred to the Alcazar at Madrid. On July 20, accordingly, François quitted Benisano, accompanied by the governor of Valencia and a great number of nobles and gentlemen, who escorted him as far as Requeña, where he found the Bishop of Avila, who had been deputed to convey to him the Emperor's compliments. His journey to Madrid, which occupied three weeks, resembled rather that of a king than a captive. At Guadalajara, the Duke of Infantado, to whom that town belonged, gave the most magnificent fetes in his honour;[06] and the three days which he spent there were one round of tournaments, bull-fights, balls and banquets, while at Alcala, the whole town came out to meet him, headed by the authorities and students of the university.

But what a cruel deception awaited him when, on August 17, he reached Madrid! There, after being confined for a few days in the tower of los Lujanes, the strongest of the towers which flanked the ramparts of the city, he was lodged in a narrow chamber in the donjon of the Alcazar, containing only such furniture as was absolutely necessary, and lighted by a single window with two iron gratings fixed into the massive walls, which overlooked the Manzanares, almost dry at this season of the year, and the arid plain beyond. A company of arquebusiers guarded the tower, and no one but the King's gaolers and personal attendants was permitted to have access to him. This close and galling confinement, which could scarcely have been more rigorous had François been a State criminal awaiting his trial on a charge of high treason, and was, of course, designed to exhaust his powers of resistance to the Imperial demands, soon began to have its effect upon the health of the unfortunate monarch, and on the evening of September 18, as Charles V was returning from hunting in the forest of Segovia, word was brought him that his captive was dying.

In great alarm, he immediately mounted his horse, rode, almost without drawing rein, to Madrid, and proceeded at once to the Alcazar. On perceiving the Emperor, who entered his room accompanied by Lannoy and preceded by Montmorency, carrying a torch, François painfully raised himself into a sitting posture and bowed. Charles threw himself into his arms, and "they remained for some time in a close embrace, without saying a word." The King was the first to break the silence. "My lord," said he, "you see before you your prisoner and your slave." "No," replied the Emperor affectionately, "but my good brother and true friend, whom I look upon as free." "Your slave," rejoined the King. "My good brother and friend, who will recover his freedom," insisted the Emperor. "My most ardent desire is your recovery; think only of that. All the rest will be done, my lord, according to your wishes." "It will be as you order," replied François, "for it is yours to command, but, my lord, I entreat of you, let there be no intermediary between us." The King then fell back exhausted on his pillow, and Charles withdrew, having assured him that when the Duchesse d'Alençon, who was expected, arrived, peace and his liberty would speedily follow.[07]

The following day, the Emperor again visited François and did all in his power to console him; but the royal prisoner was in a very weak state, spoke as though he did not expect to recover, and besought Charles, in the event of his death, not to be too hard upon his sons, but to take them under his protection and defend them against those who might attempt to despoil them. The Emperor promised that everything should be arranged in accordance with his wishes, so soon as his sister arrived.

While he was still with the King, a message was brought him that Marguerite had entered Madrid and was approaching the Alcazar. Learning on the road from Barcelona of the illness of her brother, she had travelled with all possible despatch, and had arrived two or three days before she was expected. The Emperor received her at the foot of the staircase of the Alcazar.[08] She was dressed all in white, on account of the recent death of her husband, the Duc d'Alençon, and her face was stained with tears. Charles embraced her and begged her not to despair, and then conducted her to François's apartment, where he left the brother and sister together, and set out for Toledo, at which city the conferences with the French envoys were to be held.

The visits and assurances of the Emperor and the presence of his devoted sister served to arouse François from the depths of discouragement into which he had fallen. But, though Charles appears to have been under the impression that his illness was due far more to moral than to physical causes, this was certainly not the case. The King was suffering from an abscess in the head (un' appostema nella testa)[09] and, three days after the departure of his "good brother," he had so serious a relapse, that both his own and the Emperor's physicians held out no hope of his recovery. According to one of the French envoys, the Président de Selve, all the signs of approaching death were evident, and he lay for several hours without speaking or recognising any one.

Believing that the end was at hand, Marguerite caused an altar to be set up in the sick-room, summoned all her own and his Majesty's attendants, and directed the Arch- bishop of Embrun to celebrate Mass, and afterwards, if possible, to administer the Holy Sacrament to the King. "At the moment of the elevation," writes Selve, "when the archbishop exhorted him to regard the Host, my sovereign lord (who neither saw nor heard) turned his head, raised his hands, and murmured: 'It is my God, who will restore me both in body and soul. I entreat you to let me receive Him.'" As it was doubtful whether he would be able to swallow the consecrated wafer, his sister suggested that it should be divided into two portions, one of which she received herself, while the other was given to the King, who received it very devoutly, amid the tears of all present.[10]

The agitation caused by his receiving the Holy Sacrament had a salutary effect upon the sick man, for the abscess in the head opened, happily in an outward direction, and though he remained for some time in a very weak state, he was soon out of danger; and Marguerite was able to proceed to Toledo with the French envoys, for the conferences which she hoped would soon restore her brother to liberty.

We shall not dwell upon the tedious negotiations which followed. The obstacle to a settlement was, of course, the question of Burgundy. The duchy had reverted to the Crown of France on the death of Charles the Bold, without male heirs, in 1477, when the Estates had at once recognised Louis XI as their liege lord. But the Emperor, as the son of Charles the Bold's daughter, Mary, had always regarded it as his lawful inheritance, of which he had been unjustly despoiled, and, for sentimental as well as political reasons, he was determined to recover it. The French negotiators, on the other hand, were instructed to resist to the uttermost a demand which, if conceded, would not only deprive France of one of her largest and most wealthy provinces, but would place her redoubtable enemy within striking distance of the capital. They suggested, however, that the case should be submitted to arbitration, with the understanding that, if Burgundy were assigned to Charles, it should form the dowry of his sister Eleanor, whom the King should then take to wife. To this proposal Charles refused to consent, and when, towards the end of November, the Duchesse d'Alençon returned to France, matters were in much the same state as they had been on her arrival, and it seemed as though François's captivity would be indefinitely prolonged.

Before his sister's departure, the King had bethought him of an expedient which would prove as fatal to the hopes of Charles V as the death of his prisoner, and drew up and signed a deed of abdication, in which he declared that "we have willed and consented, by perpetual and irrevocable edict, that our very dear and beloved son François should be henceforth declared Very Christian King of France, and as King should be crowned, anointed, and consecrated." Louise of Savoy, or, in the event of her death, the Duchesse d'Alençon, was appointed Regent, and he reserved to himself the right of resuming the Crown, if he ever recovered his liberty.[11]

This heroic resolution was duly communicated to the Emperor by Montmorency, accompanied by a request that he would permit his Majesty's entourage to be placed on such a footing as would be suitable for an ex-sovereign who had resigned himself to the idea of spending the remainder of his days in captivity. Charles, however, did not appear to be greatly perturbed by the announcement. He knew that François was a bad subject for prison life, however much latitude might be allowed him, and believed that he was far too selfish to sacrifice himself for his kingdom.

Events justified this belief, for on December 19, 1525, at the moment when Montmorency was on the point of setting out for France with the deed of abdication, the King directed the French envoys to surrender Burgundy in full sovereignty, stipulating, however, that their master should first be set at liberty, since the cession of so large an extent of territory presented difficulties which could only be overcome by the presence of François in his own realm. To this stipulation Charles consented, and on January 14, 1526, the Treaty of Madrid was concluded.

By the terms of this famous treaty, François engaged to "restore" to the Emperor the possessions of Charles the Bold, the latter, however, abandoning the counties of Maçon and Auxerre and the seigneurie of Bar-sur-Seine, which he gave by way of dowry to his sister Eleanor, whom François undertook to marry. The King of France resigned all claims on the Milanese, Genoa, Asti, and Naples; abandoned Italy entirely to the Emperor; promised that a French fleet should escort Charles when he went to Italy for the purpose of his coronation, and that he would co-operate with him in person in a crusade against the Infidel and in the suppression of Lutherans and other heretics; renounced all his rights of suzerainty over Flanders and Artois; withdrew his protection from Henri d'Albret, King of Navarre, and his allies on the Flemish frontier, Robert de la Marck and the Duke of Guelders, and restored Bourbon and his accomplices to their estates and dignities. Nothing was said about Bourbon's promised kingdom in South-Eastern France, but it was understood that, as compensation for this and the hand of Eleanor, he was to receive the Milanese, of which Francesco Sforza, who had placed himself at the head of an abortive movement for the independence of Italy, and was being blockaded by the Spaniards in the citadel of Milan, was to be deprived. Lastly, either the two elder sons of the King, the Dauphin François and Henri, Duc d'Orleans, or the Dauphin and twelve of the principal personages of the kingdom[12] were to be delivered up as hostages until all the stipulations of the treaty had been fulfilled.

It is not at first sight easy to understand how the shrewd and cautious Charles could have consented to the release of his prisoner until this treaty, so humiliating for France, had been executed, or at least until he had been placed in possession of Burgundy; and the Chancellor Gattinara protested in the strongest terms consistent with respect against a step which he declared would inevitably compromise, and perhaps lose altogether, the fruits of Pavia. But, though the Emperor entertained far from an exalted opinion of François's character, he probably found it difficult to believe that he intended to play him false. The long and stubborn resistance which the King had opposed to his demands seemed to be a guarantee of his good faith, for, if his intentions were otherwise, why had he not yielded before and escaped those weary months in the Alcazar? Besides, the alternative was a renewal of the war, since the truce was on the point of expiring; and war at the present juncture would risk all that was assured by the treaty. For Charles could no longer rely on the support of those who had hitherto sustained him, or on the neutrality of those who had permitted him to conquer. Henry VIII, without as yet declaring himself his enemy, had become the ally of France; Venice, Florence, the Pope, and the Duke of Milan were intriguing against him; his brother Ferdinand, crippled by a rebellion in the Tyrol, was quite unable to render him assistance. He was, in fact, completely isolated, and, so far from being in a position to invade France, would be obliged to act entirely on the defensive.

For these reasons he decided to disregard the advice of Gattinara, and to accept the advantages which were conceded to him under the conditions on which they were offered. If, however, he consented to the liberation of François, he did not fail to take every possible precaution to render the treaty inviolable. Not only did he insist upon the most precious hostages, but he demanded that the King should swear upon the Gospel to fulfil his engagements, and give his word of honour as a knight that he would return to prison, if within four months all the conditions of the treaty were not realised.

François complied readily enough, but he had not the remotest intention of keeping his word. What moral fibre he possessed had been hopelessly sapped by his imprisonment; and on January 13, 1526 — the day before the treaty was signed — he had summoned to the Alcazar the Président de Selve, the Archbishop of Embrun, Chabot de Brion, Jean de la Barre, Provost of Paris, and his secretary Bayard, and, after exacting from each of them an oath of secrecy, entered a solemn protest against the treaty to which he was being compelled to submit "by force and constraint," and declared the obligations which he was on the point of contracting "null and of no effect," as attempts upon the rights of his crown, hurtful to France, and injurious to his honour.[13]

Six days after the conclusion of the Treaty of Madrid, François was betrothed to the Queen-Dowager of Portugal. As the King was suffering from an attack of fever, and, indeed, was too ill to leave his bed, the ceremony had perforce to take place in his apartment at the Alcazar, Lannoy representing his future consort. A betrothal in such circumstances could scarcely be considered to augur well for the happiness of the royal pair; but Charles V was impatient to secure yet another guarantee for the fulfilment of his Most Christian Majesty's engagements.

Since etiquette required François to address a complimentary letter to his fiancée, he wrote to the Emperor to inquire by what title it was his wish that he should address her; and Charles in reply authorised him to address her by the name of wife, "which before God she already is."

As some weeks must elapse before the hostages could arrive in Spain, François was obliged to remain at Madrid. It might be supposed that during this interval he would have been permitted to exchange his gloomy prison for some more cheerful residence, or, at least, that the constraint to which he had been so long subjected would have been relaxed. But, in spite of the representations of the gentlemen of his suite and the Archbishop of Embrun, he remained in the Alcazar and was kept under perpetual surveillance. Arquebusiers mounted guard at the door of his chamber, both night and day, and even while he slept his attendants were obliged to admit the officers of the fortress, who came at intervals to satisfy themselves that he was still there.[14] The only concession was permission to leave his prison, though always accompanied by his guards, in order to go and hear Mass at celebrated churches or to visit convents. On these occasions, the populace, whose admiration the had gained by his handsome presence and his reputation for courage, pressed eagerly to see him, and those afflicted with scrofula came to entreat him to lay his royal hands upon them.

On February 13, after having signed the peace at Toledo, Charles V returned to Madrid. François, mounted on a richly caparisoned mule and dressed à l'espagnole, as a compliment to the Emperor, met him in the outskirts of the city, and the two monarchs embraced with a great show of affection. They entered Madrid amid the acclamations of the people, and proceeded to the Alcazar, where they supped together; and during the two following days made their devotions at the same churches and gave other proofs of the sincerity of their reconciliation.

On the 16th, François having expressed a desire to see his bride-elect before leaving Spain, their Majesties quitted Madrid to visit Queen Eleanor at the Castle of Illescas, one of the residences of the Archbishop of Toledo, where Eleanor had arrived on the previous day. They established themselves at the Castle of Torrejon, a few miles distant, and paid their first visit on the afternoon of the 17th. Although not strictly beautiful, the widow of Manoel the Great was decidedly prepossessing, with a high forehead, arched eyebrows, a fresh complexion, and very white teeth. She was of a romantic temperament, and François's courage and misfortunes had appealed so strongly to her sympathy and admiration that she was already prepared to love him. As for the King, though, as we have seen, he had not the slightest intention of sharing his throne with the lady, he acted the part of a gallant lover to perfection, and when Eleanor fell on her knees and was about to kiss his hand, he raised her up and embraced her warmly. The following day, the two monarchs paid a second visit to Illescas, on which occasion the Queen performed a Spanish dance before her fiancé, with the Countess of Nassau, one of her ladies-in-waiting.

On the 19th, François and Charles bade one another farewell, the former to return to Madrid and thence to France, the latter to proceed to Seville, where he was to wed the Infanta Isabella of Portugal. At parting, the King, at the request of the Emperor, who, in this last interview, was unable to free his mind of some uneasiness in regard to the execution of the treaty, renewed his assurances of fidelity to his engagements under pain of being accounted a miserable scoundrel, and Charles warned François that, although he had never hated him, yet, if he deceived him, particularly in what concerned his sister Eleanor, he should "hold his person in detestation, and should seek every means of taking vengeance and of injuring him as much as possible." Then, after the King had once more sworn to fulfil his obligations, they commended one another to God's keeping and separated.

Two days later (February 21), François joyfully quitted the gloomy fortress where he had suffered so much in both body and mind, and where he had ended by purchasing his liberty at the price of his honour, and took the road to the frontier of France. He was accompanied by the Viceroy of Naples and a numerous guard, under the command of Alarcon, an officer of arquebusiers, who had been responsible for the illustrious captive's person since the day of Pavia. At Aranda, on the Douro, fifty leagues from the frontier, which was reached on the 26th, Lannoy, in conjunction with the King, drafted the formalities which were to be observed at his release, the most elaborate precautions being taken to guard against any attempt at escape or rescue.

The exchange was to take place on the Bidassoa, between Fontarabia and Andaye, in the centre of the stream. No vessels of any description, with the exception of those required for the conveyance of François and the hostages, which must be of similar size, were to be allowed on the river or within five leagues of its mouth; no gentleman of the King's Household, no soldier of his guard, no man-at-arms in his realm, was to be permitted to approach nearer than Saint-Jean-de-Luz, and for twenty leagues on either side of the frontier the country was to be evacuated by troops.[15] Chabot de Brion and a Spanish officer named Peñalosa were then despatched to France, the former to hasten the arrival of Louise of Savoy and the hostages, the latter to carry to the Court the draft of the regulations for the exchange; and the King and his escort continued their journey as far as Vittoria, where they halted to await news of the Regent.

Louise had learned of the Treaty of Madrid on January 29, when Montmorency arrived at Lyons, bringing the document with him for the Regent's signature, and she had lost no time in making the arrangements required to secure her son's liberation. It will be remembered that the clause relating to the hostages left France the alternative of replacing the second of the young princes by twelve of the principal personages of the kingdom. But the Regent, who had, of course, been informed by Montmorency of what had occurred at the Alcazar on the eve of the signing of the treaty, and was aware that a refusal to execute its terms would certainly be followed by a renewal of the war, immediately decided that to deprive the kingdom of its best generals in such circumstances would be an act of criminal folly, and that Henri must therefore accompany the Dauphin to Spain.

After having announced that peace had been concluded and that the King would shortly be restored to his loving subjects, without, however, revealing the humiliating conditions, on February 1 she set out for Amboise, where the young princes were, followed by a part of the Court, and accompanied by Dr. John Taylor[16] and Louis van Praet, the English and Imperial Ambassadors.[17] On arriving at Roanne, the Court embarked in barges upon the Loire, and made the rest of the journey by water, though, owing to continuous rain, the river had overflowed its banks, and "the wind was so ragious that no man might pass without danger."[18]

At Amboise, the English Ambassador was presented to the Dauphin and Henri, and did not fail to communicate his impressions of the young princes to Wolsey:

"She [the Regent] caused me to dine with the Emperor's Ambassador, and after dinner I was brought to see the Dauphin, and his brother Harry; both did embrace me, and took me by the hand, and asked me of the welfare of the King's highness, and your grace, and desired that in my writing I should truly commend them to the King and your grace. Verily, they be too (sic) goodly children. The King's godson [Henri] is the quicker spirit and the bolder, as seemeth by his behaviour."

The Regent, "notwithstanding that she was vexed with the gout in her hand," only remained one night, and then with her two elder grandsons took the road to Bayonne, where they arrived in the evening of March 15, and were received "with a great triumph of gun-shot."[19] On learning of their approach, Lannoy had left Vittoria, and conducted François to the fortress of San Sebastian, three leagues from the mouth of the Bidassoa. Here he was joined by Chabot de Brion, who had been sent by the Regent to make the final arrangements for the exchange of the King and his two sons, which it was decided should take place on the 17th, at seven o'clock in the morning.

At the appointed hour, François, accompanied by Lannoy, Alarcon, and ten Spanish gentlemen, who were armed only with sword and dagger, appeared on the southern bank of the river; while the Dauphin and the Duc d'Orléans, accompanied by Lautrec and ten French gentlemen, armed in like fashion, appeared on the opposite bank. Two barges, of the same size and manned by the same number of rowers, were in readiness. Each party entered one, and was rowed out to the centre of the stream, where a raft had been moored. Lannoy and Alarcon, followed by the King, mounted the raft, as did Lautrec and the little princes. The boys kissed their father's hand, and Lannoy said: "Sire, your Highness is now free; let him execute what he has promised!" "All shall be done," answered François, who then embraced his children, and, stepping into the barge which had brought them, was rowed to the northern bank, while the princes were conveyed to the Spanish shore. "All passed off very peaceably, as had been arranged."[20]

The King, who, in his selfish way, was much attached to his children, had probably experienced some twinges of conscience at the thought of these two young boys — the elder but eight years old — condemned to a captivity which their father's intended repudiation of his engagements could not fail to make a long and painful one. But any compunction he may have felt was speedily stifled by joy at finding himself a free man again. So soon as his foot touched French soil, he threw himself on horseback, crying, "Now I am King! I am King once more!" and rode away at a gallop to Saint-Jean-de-Luz, whither the nobles of the Court, the Chancellor Du Prat, and the English Ambassador had come to welcome him.[21] After receiving their congratulations, he hastened to Bayonne, where the Regent and the rest of the Court had remained, and "was received with much shot of ordnance, without the town, a quarter of a mile."[22] "Immediately on setting foot to ground, he went to return thanks to God in the principal church of that town,"[23] and then hurried away to greet his mother and sister, who were impatiently awaiting him. Meanwhile, the young hostages were being conducted by Lannoy and Alarcon to Vittoria, to join Queen Eleanor, who had arrived there a few days before, it having been decided that, when the principal conditions of the Treaty of Madrid had been fulfilled, she should bring them with her to France.

Notes

(1) Published by Champollion, Captivite du roi François Ier.

(2) And, since the Parlement had attributed the disaster of Pavia to celestial anger on account of the King's toleration of heretics, she caused two unfortunate Huguenots to be burnt at the stake, as a further proof of condescension.

(3) Some misconception appears to exist in regard to François's transference from Italy to Spain. Several historians, including Dr. Kitchin ("History of France," vol. ii), state that Charles V gave orders for the King's removal, but Mignet (Rivalité de François Ier et de Charles-Quint) has shown that Lannoy acted entirely on his own responsibility, and that Charles was greatly astonished on learning of his prisoner's arrival at Barcelona.

(4) Montmorency was no longer a prisoner, having been exchanged some weeks before for Don Ugo de Moncada, Prior of Messina, who had been captured by the French in the sea-fight off the coast of Provence in the previous year.

(5) Negociation du seigneur de Montmorency, in Champollion, Captivite de François Ier; Mignet, Rivalité de François Ier et de Charles-Quint.

(6) And the duke's daughter, who was of a highly romantic disposition, fell so desperately in love with him, that, from sheer despair, she took the veil, and founded a monastery at Guadalajara.

(7) Della vita e della of ere di Andrea Navagero; Mignet, Rivalité de François Ier et de Charles-Quint.

(8) The English Ambassadors were much perturbed by Marguerite's mission. It was, of course, the policy of England to hold the balance between Charles and François, and to prevent any permanent rapprochement between them, and the Ambassadors feared that this might be brought about by the young widow wooing the Emperor for herself, and his sister, Eleanor, Queen-Dowager of Portugal, for her brother. They had therefore solemnly warned Charles not to receive her, on the ground that she would only confirm the King in his obstinacy. "Besides," said they, "being young and a widow, she comes, as Ovid says of women going to a play, to see and to be seen, that perhaps the Emperor may like her; and also to woo the Queen-Dowager of Portugal for her brother. . . . Then, as they are both young widows, she shall find good commodity in cackling with her to advance her brother's matter."

(9) Navagero, cited by Mignet.

(10) Letter of the Président de Selve to the Parlement of Paris, in Champollion, Captivité de François Ier.

(11) For the full text of the document see, Champollion, Captivité de François Ier. Madame Coignet (François Ier) and several other writers, following Du Bellay, state that the King entrusted the deed of abdication to his sister to carry to France; but this is incorrect.

(12) Among the twelve were the Duc de Vendôme, the Duke of Albany the Comte de Saint-Pol, Louis de Brézé, Grand Seneschal of Normandy — the husband of Diane de Poitiers — Montmorency, Lautrec and Guise. In other words all the best French generals who had survived the disaster of Pavia.

(13) See Champollion, Captivité de François Ier, where the text of the protest is given.

(14) This continued detention was one of the reasons afterwards given by François to excuse his refusal to execute the terms of the Treaty of Madrid. According to him, his word of honour as a knight having been demanded and given, the Emperor was obliged to set him at liberty forthwith, and that since this was not done, he was freed from his promise.

(15) Cérémonial réglé pour la délivrance du seigneur roy, in Champollion, Captivite de François Ier.

(16) John Taylor, who was the son of humble parents, was born at the village of Barton, in Staffordshire, probably about 1480. He studied civil and canon law at some foreign university, took Holy Orders, and held various benefices, being appointed prebendary of Westminster in 1518. He accompanied Henry VIII in his campaign in France in 1513, and to the Field of the Cloth of Gold, on which occasion he acted as his chaplain. In 1527 he was appointed Master of the Rolls, and from 1531-1533 he was again English Ambassador in France. He died in 1534.

(17) Taylor was going to Bayonne, nominally to congratulate François on his return from captivity, but really to induce him to violate the treaty he had just concluded with Charles V. He was, however, somewhat exercised in his mind as to how he was to get there, and wrote to Wolsey that he "waxed slender in the purse."

(18) Despatch of Taylor to Wolsey, published by Sharon Turner, "The Modern History of England."

(19) Taylor to Wolsey.

(20) Letter of the Président de Selve to the Parlement of Paris, March 18 1526 in Captivité de François Ier.

(21) "After the chancellor had saluted the King, he shewed me to him that I was the orator of England. The King took me in his arms, whom I saluted in this manner: 'Christianissimi Rex! ex parte serenissimi regis Anglias, defensoris fidei, Deum omnipotentem ego congratulor, tuæ majestatis in suum regnum salvo reditui.' " — Despatch of Taylor to Wolsey, in Sharon Turner.

(22) Ibid.

(23) Selve.

Chapter IV

Refusal of François I to execute the Treaty of Madrid — His conduct severely condemned by modern historians, but generally condoned by his contemporaries — The League of Cognac formed against the Emperor — Inaction of François, who for more than a year leaves his Italian allies to shift for themselves — Fall and sack of Rome — François concludes the Treaty of Westminster with England — Lautrec invades the Milanese with an army subsidised by England, and carries all before him — Escape of Clement VII from Rome — Contemplated duel between François and Charles — Siege of Naples — The folly of François causes the withdrawal of Andrea Doria's fleet from the blockade — The French, weakened by disease, raise the siege, and are subsequently obliged to capitulate — Genoa lost to France — Battle of Landriano and defection of the Pope — Peace of Cambrai (la Paix des Dames), which contains a stipulation that the young princes are to be released on payment of a ransom of two million crowns.

CHARLES V was soon to discover that, on the day on which he had allowed the French King to cross the Bidassoa, he had let slip the chance which comes to a man but once in his life.

On François's arrival at Bayonne, Louis van Praet, the Imperial Ambassador, lost no time in calling upon him to ratify the treaty, as he had engaged to do in the first town in his dominions. The King, on some plausible pretext, deferred the ratification. At Mont-de-Marsan, whither the Court proceeded from Bayonne, Peñalosa, who had been sent by Lannoy, joined Van Praet, and François was again summoned to fulfil his promise. This time, his Majesty replied that the treaty, the terms of which had already been made public by the Emperor, was causing great indignation among his subjects; that the principal personages of the State, to whom he had applied to secure its acceptance, all implored him not to ratify it; that he had received advices from Burgundy that the cession of that province, "united and incorporated inseparably with the Crown," could not take place without the consent of the Estates, who were determined not to give it, and that he feared that the adhesion of the States-General of the kingdom and the Parlement of Paris, which was equally necessary for such an alienation, would be also impossible to obtain.

These evasive answers were communicated to Lannoy, who was at Vittoria with Queen Eleanor and the young princes, and by him transmitted to his master. Charles at once sent orders to the Viceroy of Naples to proceed in person to France and demand in the most imperative terms the immediate fulfilment of the King's engagements. Lannoy set out in all haste and found the Court at Cognac, in Saintonge — François's birthplace — the King's physicians having decided that his native air might be beneficial to his health, which was still causing some anxiety.

Two days after the Viceroy's arrival (May 10, 1526), he and Van Praet were requested to appear before the Council, when the Chancellor informed them that the King had no power to surrender a province of France, and that, though his Majesty's subjects were ready to obey him in all else, they would never consent to the dismemberment of the realm. The King himself confirmed what his Minister had said, adding that the oath which he had taken either to execute the terms of the treaty or to return to Spain was not binding, inasmuch as it had been exacted from him while in prison. At the same time, he was prepared to pay a ransom of two million crowns for Burgundy — an immense sum at this period — and to execute faithfully the rest of the treaty.

Modern historians have rightly condemned the conduct of François in severe terms; but his contemporaries appear to have regarded it in a very different light. "Our King," writes Brantôme,[01] "made the treaty of a very skilful prince," and such was undoubtedly the general opinion in France. Nor was foreign opinion, outside Charles's own dominions disposed to judge the perjured monarch at all harshly. Those, indeed, to whom the growing power of the Emperor was a cause of jealousy and alarm, declared that François was justified in repudiating engagements entered into while he was not a free agent. "Treaties made under fear do not stand," wrote Baldassare Castiglione, the Papal Nuncio at Toledo, to the Vatican, so soon as he was informed of the terms of the treaty,[02] and Clement VII subsequently made not the smallest difficulty about absolving the King from his oath; while Wolsey instructed the English Ambassadors at the French Court "to say of themselves soberly, and in a manner of stupefaction and marvel, that these be great and high conditions, the like whereof have not been heard of, and such as were even here [in England] thought were either never agreed to, or being agreed to, shall never be performed."[03]

François's reply to the demands of Lannoy and Van Praet was communicated to Charles V, who, incensed and mortified at finding himself the dupe of a rival whose political capacity he held in such contempt, rejected the proposed compromise with indignation, and called upon the King to keep his oath and return to prison, since he was either unwilling or unable to execute the articles of the Treaty of Madrid. In the interval, however, plenipotentiaries from Clement VII and the Venetians had arrived at the French Court, with proposals for a Franco-Italian alliance, which was to free the peninsula from the yoke of the Imperialists and re-establish its independence; and François's reply to the Emperor's summons was the announcement of the formation of the "Holy League" of Cognac, between the King of France, the Pope, Venice, Florence, and Francesco Sforza, Duke of Milan (May 22, 1526), at the instigation of the King of England, who was declared its protector.

THE EMPEROR CHARLES V

FROM A PAINTING BY AN UNKNOWN FLEMISH ARTIST IN THE LOUVRE

Conceived ostensibly in the interests of universal peace, this league was in reality a challenge to a European war, for, though the preamble of the treaty stated that its object was "the safety and security of Christendom and the establishment of a true and lasting peace between Christian princes," and the Emperor was invited to join it, the conditions of his admission were that he should restore the Milanese to Sforza, place the Italian States in the position in which they stood at his accession, visit Italy for his coronation with such escort only as might be approved by the Pope and the Venetians, release the French princes for a reasonable ransom in money, and undertake to discharge within three months all his debts to the King of England. In the event of Charles refusing to subscribe to these conditions, as he would most assuredly do, the confederates bound themselves to expel the Imperialists first from Lombardy and Genoa, and afterwards from Naples. When this had been effected, François was to recover his suzerainty over Genoa; while Sforza, to whom a French princess was to be given in marriage, undertook to cede to him the county of Asti and pay an annual sum of 50,000 ducats, in return for his renunciation of his claims on the Milanese. He was also to receive an annual pension of 75,000 ducats from the new King of Naples — whose selection was left to the Pope — as compensation for the surrender of his claims in that quarter. Great efforts were made by the confederates to induce England to join the League, and, as a temptation, an article was inserted in the treaty engaging to provide Henry VIII with a rich principality in the kingdom of Naples, and reward Wolsey with a lordship producing a revenue of 10,000 ducats. But it was not the interest of England at that moment to make an enemy of the Emperor, and she decided to wait upon events.

We shall pass briefly over the events which followed the formation of the League of Cognac. Never again was France to have so favourable an opportunity of arresting the forward march of her great enemy; not for nearly three centuries was Italy to be afforded so fair a chance of shaking off the yoke of the foreigner. Charles V, as he had foreseen when the Treaty of Madrid was signed, found himself without an ally in Europe, and beset with difficulties on every side. Germany was torn by religious strife; the Turks were overrunning Hungary; Naples was seething with discontent; his coffers were all but empty. In Lombardy his army had dwindled to ten or twelve thousand disheartened and disorganised men, for Pescara was dying, there was no money to pay the troops, they were surrounded by a population which their tyranny had aroused to exasperation, and the citadels of Milan and Cremona still held out for Sforza.

But the opportunity was allowed to pass. François was no longer the man he had been before his captivity. Then, whatever his shortcomings, he had at least possessed resolution and energy where the furtherance of his own ambitious schemes was concerned. Now, however, he seemed to take but faint interest in the momentous struggle to which he found himself committed and to be quite unable to decide upon a vigorous course of action. The pleasures of the chase, the charms of a new mistress, Anne de Pisseleu, the future Duchess d'Étampes, of whom we shall have a good deal to say hereafter, occupied his mind to the exclusion of the important questions which called so urgently for his attention. "Alexander used to pay attention to women when he had no affairs of State; François attended to affairs of State when there were no more women."[04]

The French King had pushed his Italian allies into war by promises of the most vigorous co-operation; but for more than a year he never moved, and by that time two of the leaders of the League had fallen, and the whole situation in the peninsula had completely changed.

The Duke of Urbino, the general of the confederates, though far superior to the Imperialists in numbers, failed in his attempt to relieve the citadel of Milan, and at the end of July 1526 starvation obliged Sforza to capitulate.

After Sforza, it was the turn of Clement VII. In the following September, a force consisting partly of Imperialists and partly of troops in the service of the Pope's determined enemy, Cardinal Pompeo Colonna, swooped down upon Rome, plundered the Vatican and St. Peter's, and compelled Clement VII, who had taken refuge in the Castle of St. Angelo, to purchase their withdrawal by a four months' truce, which, however, following the example of the Most Christian King, he speedily found a pretext for violating. Nevertheless, the misguided Pontiff began to regret his share in a war in which he had embarked with such confident hopes of success,[05] and on March 15, 1527, he concluded a treaty with the Viceroy of Naples, by which the Pope was to abandon the Confederation and the Imperialists were to evacuate the States of the Church.

But the solution of the Papal-Imperial problem had already passed into other hands. In July 1526, Bourbon had taken command of the Imperialists in Lombardy; towards the end of the year, 13,000 landsknechts under George Frundsberg crossed the Alps, and early in February, the ex-Constable joined them with his forces on the Trebbia. His troops, unpaid, ragged, and starving, were in full mutiny. Clamouring for their pay, they surrounded Bourbon's quarters, and assumed so threatening an attitude that their leader was obliged to take refuge with the landsknechts.[06] The Germans, however, soon followed the example of the Spaniards, and Frundsberg, while endeavouring to pacify them, was struck down by apoplexy and carried away to Ferrara, where he died.

Recognising that, in order to quell the mutiny, there was but one course open to him, Bourbon now offered to lead the troops to the pillage of Florence and Rome. His decision was hailed with enthusiasm by the army, which was already preparing to march, when one of Lannoy's officers named Feramosca arrived in the camp, with the announcement of the truce which had just been concluded with the Pope. Bourbon, however, who was by this time thoroughly disgusted with the ingratitude of the Emperor, and is believed to have contemplated carving out a kingdom for himself in Southern Italy, told him sarcastically that if he wished the truce to be observed, he had better persuade the troops of the necessity of submitting to it. This Feramosca essayed to do, whereupon — to borrow his own words — the soldiers became "furious as lions," and if he had not prudently taken to flight, would certainly have killed him.[07]

On March 30, the army began its march, crossed the Apennines and descended into Tuscany by the Val di Bagno, "like a living avalanche," devastating every town and village through which it passed. But, finding that the Duke of Urbino had fallen back to cover Florence, it turned to the south-east and advanced rapidly on Rome, for whose defence Clement, relying on his convention with Lannoy, had made but the feeblest preparations. On May 5, the Imperialists saw the spires and domes of the Eternal City rising before them; on the following morning, they advanced to the assault. Bourbon himself planted the first scaling-ladder against the walls, and was mortally wounded by a ball from an arquebus[08] with his foot on the second rung; but the assailants, roused to fury by the fall of their leader, poured over the ramparts in a resistless torrent; the terror-stricken Pope fled to the Castle of St. Angelo, and in a few hours all resistance was at an end.

The grim tragedy which followed is well known. For weeks the city was a prey to the lawless soldiery, who pillaged, murdered, and committed every act of brutal violence without respect of age or sex or dignity. "The sack of Rome," writes Brantôme, "was so terrible that neither before nor since has anything been seen like it." "Never," says another writer, "had there been such calamity, misery, damage, cruelty, and inhumanity witnessed."[09]

The sack of Rome and the captivity of the Pope, who, after sustaining a siege of a month in the Castle of St. Angelo, was forced to capitulate, sent a thrill of horror through Christendom, and though the Emperor made every effort to exculpate himself, his protestations fell on unheeding ears. The opportunity thus offered him was too favourable for François to lose. In the previous March, a French embassy, with Grammont, Bishop of Tarbes, at its head, had visited England, where Henry VIII and Wolsey were becoming seriously alarmed at the successes of the Imperialists; and on April 30 — a week before Rome fell — a treaty was concluded at Westminster, whereby it was arranged that either François himself or his second son, Henri, should marry Mary Tudor,[10] then eleven years old; that Henry VIII should renounce the pretensions to the Crown of France on payment of an annual sum of 50,000 crowns by François and of 15,000 by his successors; that, in the meanwhile, the two Kings should present an ultimatum to the Emperor calling upon him to make peace, to liberate the princes on payment of the ransom already offered, and to discharge his debts to England, and that, in the event of his refusal, they should make joint war upon him. The tragic news from Italy caused this alliance to bear speedy fruit, and at the beginning of August Lautrec, at the head of an army of over 30,000 men, entered Lombardy. It was officially called "exercitus Anglicæ et Gallicæ regum pro pontifice romano congregatus," but was English only in the money part, Henry VIII supplying 50,000 crowns a month, and, mirabile dictu, actually paying two months' subsidies in advance.[11]

Antonio de Leyva, who commanded the Imperialists left in Northern Italy, was quite unable to make head against such a force. Alessandria capitulated; Pavia was taken by assault and ruthlessly sacked, in revenge for the disaster of 1525, and before the end of the year practically the whole of the Milanese, with the exception of the capital, was lost to the Emperor; while Genoa, which had refused to join the League, also surrendered, after being closely blockaded, both by land and sea, and Ferrara, Florence, Savoy, and Mantua deserted the Imperial cause.

On December 9, Clement VII, after paying a portion of the 250,000 ducats demanded as his ransom, escaped from Rome, "disguised as a merchant," and fled to his palace at Orvieto, where the advance of Lautrec's army, which early in January began to march southwards, protected him from further molestation.

On the 22nd of the same month, the heralds of England and France brought to the Emperor at Burgos a formal declaration of war. Charles replied in very moderate terms to the English herald, but said to the other: "The King, your master, has done a sorry, dastard deed in breaking his plighted word to me in regard to the Treaty of Madrid; and this I am ready to maintain, my person against his." François replied by a violent cartel, in which he informed the Emperor that "if he had wished or wished to charge him with having done anything unworthy of a gentleman of honour, he lied in his throat;" and begged him to fix a time and place where they might meet in mortal combat. The Emperor thereupon sent the herald-at-arms "Burgundy," with a letter in which he ironically suggested a meeting on the Bidassoa, between Fontarabia and Andaye. This letter he was instructed to read to François before his Court. But when, on September 9, after being kept waiting seven weeks on the frontier, he reached Paris and was admitted to the royal presence, François demanded the safe-conduct he had asked for, and, as "Burgundy" refused to deliver it before he had done his office in the form prescribed, and his Majesty refused to hear him otherwise, he eventually retired with the cartel still in his hand.[12] Perhaps, François was reluctant to allow his Court to hear the exceedingly candid opinion which the Emperor expressed of his conduct; perhaps, he was glad of a pretext to evade the proposed meeting. Anyway, he refused to accord the herald a second audience, and Wolsey's hope that "these yong corragious passions should finally be converted into fume" was realised.

While this quarrel, which did little honour to the two rivals, was engaging the attention of their respective Courts, the fate of Italy was trembling in the balance. Lautrec advanced southwards without encountering anything but the feeblest opposition, for disease had so terribly avenged the Romans of the brigands who had despoiled them that they were now a mere wreck of an army, and, on the approach of the French, they evacuated the city and the surrounding country and fell back on Naples. If Lautrec had showed a little more activity, he might have destroyed them, in which case Naples must have fallen, but he allowed them to escape him. However, by the end of April he was besieging the town, while the French and Genoese fleets blockaded the port. The plight of the garrison was desperate, for neither supplies nor reinforcements could reach them; and when, in the last days of May, the viceroy's fleet was annihilated in a desperate attempt to break the blockade, and Moncada himself killed,[13] their last hope seemed extinguished.

Had Naples fallen, the loss of Milan must have soon followed, for with Genoa, the water-gate of Italy, in the hands of the French, it was impossible for Spanish troops to reach Lombardy; and then not a foot of the peninsula would have remained to the Emperor.

However, the apathy and folly of François ruined everything. He sent scarcely any reinforcements or money to Lautrec; he alienated the Genoese by depriving them of their free constitution and converting Savona into a rival port; and, by these measures and the haughtiness and injustice with which he treated him, he mortally offended their compatriot Andrea Doria, who had long served France with a squadron organised and equipped by himself. At the beginning of July, Doria withdrew the Genoese fleet from the Bay of Naples, upon which troops and supplies from Spain and Sicily were at once thrown into the city. A few weeks later, the French, amongst whom pestilence had been making the most terrible ravages,[14] Lautrec himself being amongst the victims, raised the siege and evacuated the whole kingdom of Naples; but they were followed by the Imperialists and compelled to capitulate.

The catastrophe of Naples was followed by other reverses. About the middle of September, Andrea Doria, who had now gone over with his ships to the Emperor, appeared off Genoa, incited the city to revolt, drove out the French garrison, and re-established the republic, under Imperial protection; while, in June 1529, a second French army under the Comte de Saint-Pol, which had been sent into Lombardy, was totally defeated by Antonio de Leyva at Landriano, and, almost immediately afterwards, the Pope deserted the League and made an "Eternal Peace" with Charles.

Although his Italian allies were for continuing the war, François now decided to make peace. He had already lost two armies, and to raise a third was impossible. Moreover, he was becoming alarmed about his sons, who had been now more than three years in captivity, and whose health and character, he feared, might be seriously affected if they were not soon set at liberty.

Fortunately for France, the resources of the Emperor were almost as exhausted as those of his rival; while the religious dissensions in Germany, which were threatening to develop into civil war, and the advance of the Turks made peace an urgent necessity.

Louise of Savoy and Margaret of Austria were called upon to arbitrate between the monarchs. The two princesses met at Cambrai on July 7, 1529, and in less than a month drew up a treaty, known as "la Paix des Dames," which was in the main a recapitulation of the Madrid treaty, save that Burgundy remained a French province[15] and that the young princes were to be restored to their father on payment of the 2,000,000 crowns already offered. The Italian allies of France were abandoned to their fate; indeed, François even engaged to assist the Emperor to drive the Venetians from the Adriatic ports which they had occupied.

Notes

(1) Brantôme was, of course, not himself a contemporary, but he echoes the sentiments of those who were.

(2) Cited by Mignet, Rivalité de François Ier et de Charles-Quint.

(3) Instructions of March 1526, in Sharon Turner.

(4) Tavannes, Mémoires.

(5) "This war," wrote Clement's most trusted Minister, Giberto, "will decide the deliverance of the eternal slaves of Italy. . . . Posterity will envy us the times in which we live, and our share in so great a felicity." — Ranke, "The Popes of Rome."

(6) According to Brantôme, Bourbon gave up to the soldiers all his jewels, plate, and furniture, as a proof of his good intentions; but the truth is that they pillaged his quarters and also killed one of his attendants.

(7) Letter of Feramosca to the Emperor, April 5, 1527, in Mignet.

(8) Benvenuto Cellini, as is well known, claimed the honour of having fired the fatal shot [Vita di Benvenuto Cellini, scritta di sua mano propria); but the writer's weakness for self-glorification is too evident for much importance to be attached to such a statement.

(9) Guillaume Paradin, Histoire de notre temps.

(10) This was the third time Mary had been betrothed; indeed, before she had left her cradle she had become an important factor in her father's intrigues with François I and Charles V. Immediately after the birth of the Dauphin, a marriage had been arranged between them; and on October 5, 1518 [? printed 1618], the bridal ceremony had been celebrated at Greenwich, Bonnivet representing the infant prince. It was arranged that the marriage ceremony was to be repeated when the Dauphin attained the age of fourteen, and that Mary was to receive a dowry of 330,000 crowns. However, before a year had passed, England's foreign policy had changed, and in January 1522 a treaty was signed with Charles V, by which he engaged to wed the English princess when she was twelve years old. At first, there seemed every likelihood of the marriage taking place, but, later, difficulties arose, and in September 1525 Henry VIII released the Emperor from his engagement, in return for a pecuniary compensation. It is worthy of remark that the French Ambassadors in 1527 seem to have been very favourably impressed with Mary, and one of them, the Vicomte de Turenne, who had the honour of dancing with the princess at Greenwich, wrote that he considered her "very handsome, and admirable, by reason of her great and uncommon mental endowments."

(11) "When this armye was assembled, the cardinal [of York] delivered the Kyng of Englande's money, that he had brought out of England in barrels, with which money was this armye payed two moneths before hand, and the remainder was delivered to sir Robert Jarnyngham, wich was called treasorer of the warres." — "Hall's Chronicle."

(12) The Emperor, however, had foreseen the difficulty which arose, and instructed "Burgundy," if he were prevented from reading the cartel, "to give it into the King's own hands, or even to throw it at his feet, if he refused to take it." The herald, however, apparently lost his head.

(13) Lannoy had died of fever in the previous September, and Ugo de Moncada had succeeded him as Viceroy of Naples.

(14) It was probably a virulent form of typhus, engendered by the heat of an exceptionally hot summer and the insanitary condition of the camp. So appalling was the mortality that in a month more than two-thirds of the army are said to have been swept away, and of the survivors only about 4,000 were fit for service.

(15) Charles, however, did not renounce his claims on Burgundy, and in later years advised his son to maintain them, though not to make them a casus belli.

Chapter V

The usher Bodin despatched to Spain to visit the young princes — His journey to Pedraza, where he finds them deprived of their French attendants and subjected to the most rigorous confinement — His interview with them — Extraordinary precautions taken by the Spaniards to guard against the escape of their prisoners — A copy of Bodin's report is sent to Margaret of Austria, thanks to whose intercession the boys' captivity is rendered more tolerable — François marries Eleanor of Austria by procuration at Toledo — Arrival of Anne de Montmorency and the Cardinal de Tournon at Bayonne to make the final arrangements for the release of the princes — The counting and weighing of the ransom — Montmorency and the Constable of Castile — Release of the Dauphin and the Duc d'Orléans — Arrival of the Queen and the princes at Bayonne — Meeting of François and Eleanor at the Convent of Veyrières, near Mont-de-Marsan

AS in the exhausted condition of France the immense sum required for the ransom of the young princes must take some months to raise, and as both François and his mother were anxious to learn how they were being treated, immediately on the conclusion of the Peace of Cambrai, an usher of Louise of Savoy's Household named Bodin, who enjoyed his Majesty's confidence and was well acquainted with Spanish, was despatched to Spain to visit them.

The poor boys had paid dearly for the paternal breach of faith, and had been treated neither with the respect which their rank exacted nor with the kindness due to their tender years. On François's refusal to fulfil the terms of the Treaty of Madrid, they had been withdrawn from the care of Queen Eleanor, and confined first in the fortress of Ampudia, and afterwards in that of Villalpando. Until the beginning of 1528, when France had declared war against Charles V, they had been allowed to retain the suite which had accompanied them to Spain, and which consisted of some seventy persons; but since that time they had been separated from all their French attendants, not excepting their tutor and physician, who were imprisoned in various fortresses.[01] The princes themselves were removed to the citadel of Pedraza, in the midst of the mountains of Castile, where they were surrounded entirely by Spaniards, for the most part rough soldiers. Don Inigo de Tovaros, Marquis of Verlana, the governor of the citadel, had them kept under the closest surveillance; no person from the outside world was allowed to have access to them, and all attempts made to obtain news of them only served to increase the rigour of their confinement.

Bodin has left an interesting account of his mission, which shows that, notwithstanding the peace which had just been concluded between them, and the fact that François was about to become the Emperor's brother-in-law, the French King's every action still inspired the cautious Charles with the deepest suspicion, and that his Imperial Majesty no more scrupled to exploit the paternal sentiments of his rival than he had his sufferings as a captive.

To begin with, Bodin was compelled to remain more than a month at Narbonne, awaiting a safe-conduct from the Emperor, who was then at Barcelona. The safe-conduct eventually arrived, and he set out at once, hoping that, by travelling night and day, he might be able to make up for lost time; but at the frontier he was stopped by a Spanish officer, who conducted him to Perpignan, where he was kept for four days under the closest surveillance, his guards having received orders that he was not to be allowed to speak to any one, save in their presence. A gentleman of the Emperor's Household then arrived, and escorted him to Barcelona, where he was obliged to remain for a week. At Saragossa, to which he was next taken, still strictly guarded, the officials of the Customs took an inventory of all his belongings and insisted on his paying duty, though his safe-conduct franked him. Finally, after further delays, he reached Pedraza, but experienced great difficulty in obtaining permission to enter the town. When it was eventually accorded him, he was taken to an inn, over which a number of soldiers immediately mounted guard.

On the morrow, Bodin was presented to the Marquis of Verlana, the governor of the citadel, who conducted him to the room in which the Dauphin and the Duc d'Orléans were confined. "They led me," he writes, "into a rather dark chamber of this fortress, which had neither tapestries nor hangings of any kind, and only straw mattresses. In this chamber were my said lords, seated on little stone seats opposite the window of the said chamber, which is furnished both within and without with solid iron bars, while the wall is ten feet thick. The said window is so high that only with great difficulty can my said lords enjoy air and light. It is a place where persons accused of grave crimes might well be detained, and most wearisome and unhealthy for those of the young and tender age of my said lords. They were poorly clad in a sort of black-velvet riding-costume, with black-velvet caps, without silk ribbons or ornaments of any kind, white stockings, and black-velvet shoes. It was impossible for me to refrain from shedding tears."

Mastering his emotion, Bodin bowed to the Dauphin and told him in French that the King, the Duchesse d'Angouleme, and the Queen of Navarre[02] had commissioned him to visit them, to bid them be of good courage, since a treaty of peace had just been concluded, and, so soon as the necessary formalities had been completed, the princes would be restored to their father and their country.

The Dauphin listened with a puzzled expression, and, instead of replying, turned to the Marquis of Verlana, and said to him in Spanish that he understood not a word of what the man was saying, and that he wished that he would speak in the language of the country. Bodin, in amazement, repeated to him in Spanish what he had just said, and then inquired if it were possible that he had forgotten French.

"How could I remember it," replied the prince, "when I never see any of my attendants with whom I can speak it?"

The Duc d'Orléans then stepped forward and said: "Brother, this is the usher Bodin." The Dauphin replied that he knew him well, but that he had not wished to say so; and the two princes besieged Bodin with questions about the King, their grandmother, their aunt the Queen of Navarre, their youngest brother the Duc d'Angoulême, and various nobles and ladies of the Court, and, in fact, about everyone and everything in which they were interested, for they had received no news from France during the whole of their imprisonment.

During this conversation, they passed, with the governor's permission, into an adjoining room, even more sparsely furnished than the other, but better lighted. The boys at once ran to the window to get a breath of fresh air, and then began playing with two little dogs, which were there. "That is the only pleasure which the princes have," remarked one of the officers of the fortress, who had followed them, to Bodin, who replied bitterly that it was a poor pastime for princes of such exalted rank.

"You see," observed another, "how the sons of the King your master are treated, with no company but that of the soldiers of the Spanish mountains, and neither exercise nor education." And he added, laughing sarcastically: "I believe that if the King of France were minded to send here some artist, the Dauphin might suddenly become a famous master, as he spends his days in modelling little wax figures."

Bodin replied that he hoped that in less than three months their Highnesses would have found occupation more suitable to their rank; but the Marquis of Verlana retorted that neither in three nor in four months would they have left Spain; and then gruffly intimated that the interview had lasted long enough, and that the Frenchman must withdraw.

The latter requested permission to return on the morrow, which was at first refused, but eventually accorded. He came, bringing with him two velvet caps with gold ornaments and white plumes, which he reverently kissed, and was about to present to the boys, when the captain of the guard snatched them out of his hands, and, showing them to the princes, who were very anxious to have them, said that he would keep them for their Highnesses. The superstitious Spaniards appear to have been afraid that Bodin might be a magician, and have invested these objects with qualities which would assist their precious hostages to escape from prison and return to France; and, for the same reason, when the usher, observing that the boys had grown greatly during their captivity, proposed to take their measure for the information of the King, they refused to permit it.

The faithful Bodin took leave of his young masters with tears in his eyes, and prepared to set out on his journey to France. At the moment of departure, he found that his horse had been stabbed in the shoulder by one of his guards, who had taken a fancy to him, and hoped that, by temporarily disabling the unfortunate animal, he would oblige his master to leave him behind. In this, however, he was disappointed, as Bodin preferred to travel by easy stages rather than lose his horse, whose recovery was no doubt facilitated by the numerous delays to which the Frenchman had again to submit.

At length, he reached the frontier and took leave of his escort, who had kept him under the closest observation all the way from Pedraza.[03] François and Louise of Savoy were filled with indignation and alarm when they received Bodin's report, and lost no time in sending a copy to Margaret of Austria, begging her to use her influence with the Emperor to secure some amelioration of the young hostages' lot. Thanks to his aunt's intercession,[04] Charles gave orders that the princes were to be treated with as much consideration as was compatible with their security, and, though they continued to be very closely guarded, their French attendants were restored to them, they were given clothes more in accordance with their station, and the remainder of their captivity was comparatively tolerable.

The governor of the citadel of Pedraza was, however, right when he predicted, on the occasion of Bodin's visit, that the brothers would remain another four months in Spain, and, in point of fact, it was not until the summer of 1530 that they recovered their liberty. This delay was caused by the difficulty experienced in raising their ransom, which proved a terrible tax on the exhausted finances of France, and by the suspicion which each nation seemed to entertain of the good faith of the other.

At the beginning of 1530, the Vicomte de Turenne was despatched to Spain to wed Queen Eleanor, on behalf of François, and, after numerous objections raised by the Spanish Court on the question of his powers, the marriage was celebrated at Toledo (March 20). After the ceremony, the Queen set out for Vittoria, where she was to remain until the arrangements had been completed for the liberation of the princes, when she was to accompany them to France. The boys had hoped that they would be at once conducted to Vittoria to join their stepmother; but they were kept at Pedraza for some weeks longer, and it was not until the beginning of June that they reached Vittoria, under the escort of Don Pedro Hernandez de Velasco, Constable of Castile.

Towards the end of April, Montmorency, who after the return of the King from captivity had been created Grand- Master of France, arrived at Bayonne, accompanied by Tournon, Archbishop of Bourges, now a cardinal, to make the final arrangements for the payment of the ransom and to receive the Queen and the princes. Here he was joined by Louis van Praet, who was to represent the Emperor, and several officials of the Spanish Treasury. On the 29th, the Grand-Master invited Van Praet to dine, and afterwards conducted him into a strong-room and showed him gold to the amount of 1,200,000 crowns piled up in glittering heaps.[05] "You see," said he, "what steps the King is taking to pay the Emperor, and that it is his intention to execute the articles of the peace in order to recover his children. And it is much better to employ it in this business than in making war and causing the effusion of human blood."

A few days later, the French began to deliver the money, which was packed in sacks of 10,000 crowns each, and conveyed to the house of Don Alvaro de Lugo, a high official of the Imperial Treasury, who carefully counted the contents of each sack as it was brought to him.

The next proceeding was to weigh the money, which was carried out by Treasury officials of both nations, under the supervision of the Cardinal de Tournon. It was then found that the coinage had been so debased by the unscrupulous Du Prat, that most of the money was of short weight, and the French had in consequence to find a further 41,000 crowns to make good the deficiency.

After this difficulty had been satisfactorily adjusted, the gold was packed in boxes of 25,000 crowns each, which were sealed up by the officials on either side and placed in a room in Don Alvaro's house, twelve guards being posted "above, below, and about it."[06]

All these formalities naturally occupied a great deal of time, and fresh delays were constantly being occasioned by the exasperating punctiliousness of the Spaniards, which drove Montmorency and Tournon to the point of distraction. At length, however, it was arranged that the princes and the money should change hands on the Bidassoa, between Fontarabia and Andaye, on the same spot where François had been released four years before, on the morning of July 1.

On June 30, Montmorency, who since the beginning of the month had been waiting impatiently at Saint-Jean-de-Luz, sent a messenger to Bayonne with orders for the gold to be brought to him, and was congratulating himself that the end of his labours was in sight, when he received news of an incident which threatened to postpone it indefinitely.

It appears that the previous day the Constable of Castile, who was now at Fontarabia, had sent a courier to Don Alvaro de Lurgo at Bayonne. The soldier who guarded Don Alvaro's house, where, as we have said, the princes' ransom had been deposited, having received the strictest orders that no unauthorised person was to be allowed to approach, refused the man permission to pass, and it was not until he had been kept waiting for some considerable time — four hours, according to his own account — that he was able to deliver his message. So incensed was the Constable of Castile at the detention of his courier, that he informed Montmorency and Tournon that until the amplest apology was forthcoming from the French Government for the affront that had been put upon him in the person of his emissary, he should refuse to deliver over the Queen and the princes, which, of course, meant that the exchange could not possibly take place on the appointed day, and that fresh arrangements would have to be made.

Montmorency, however, was determined not to submit to the immense inconvenience and expense which this would entail, merely to satisfy the amour-propre of a personage who was notoriously ill-disposed towards the French and had done everything in his power to hinder the negotiations; and the early hours of the following morning found the treasure and its escort wending their way towards the Bidassoa. First, came fifty men-at-arms and three companies of infantry; then, thirty-one mules, each carrying 40,000 crowns in boxes, and each escorted by four French and two Spanish foot-soldiers; next, another mule bearing the fleur-de-lis and the various documents which had to be handed over with the ransom, among them Henry VIII's discharge for the money which had been paid to him; while the Grand-Master, in gala costume, and mounted on a magnificent horse with an immense plume on its head, brought up the rear, with forty gentlemen of his Household.

On reaching Andaye, on the French bank of the Bidassoa, Montmorency at once despatched an officer to Fontarabia, who found that the Constable had just issued orders for the princes to be conducted back to Renteria, from which they had arrived on the previous day. That personage informed him that, quite apart from the matter of the courier, there was another and much stronger reason why the exchange could not take place — namely, that Montmorency had assembled at Saint-Jean-de-Luz a larger force than the convention which had been drawn up between the representatives of the two nations permitted.

The officer replied that the Grand-Master insisted on the affair going forward, but, at the same time, if his Excellency maintained that he had failed in any part of his engagements, he was quite prepared to give him satisfaction in person.

Upon this, the Spaniard, whose courage was not equal to his arrogance, and who did not at all relish the prospect of meeting so redoubtable a warrior as Montmorency in single combat, changed countenance, and, after some demur, promised that the princes should be brought to the Bidassoa with as little delay as possible.

At eight o'clock in the evening, the Queen and the princes arrived on the Spanish bank of the river, and the exchange took place at once, with very much the same formalities as had been observed at that of the King, the most minute precautions being taken on both sides to guard against any attempt at treachery. Montmorency and Don Alvaro de Lurgo, with the coffers containing the ransom, embarked in a barge, which was manned by twelve rowers and a steersman. They were accompanied by eleven French gentlemen and two pages of the same height as the Dauphin and the Duc d'Orléans. At precisely the same moment, the Constable of Castile and Van Praet, with the princes and ten Spanish gentlemen, entered a similar barge, which was propelled by the same number of oarsmen. The princes and the pages wore poniards, the gentlemen both sword and poniard. Both barges then rowed out to mid-stream, where a raft had been moored, on which stood two gentlemen, one French, the other Spanish. The Spaniard called the Constable, the Frenchman the Grand-Master; and the two plenipotentiaries mounted the raft together, and passed thus from one barge to the other. The persons of their respective suites — summoned one by one, a Frenchman and a Spaniard alternately — followed, until the Spanish barge, in which the princes had remained, was occupied by the French, and that containing the ransom was filled by Spaniards. Then the barges cast off from the raft and made for either bank, "the Spaniards bearing away the gold crowns, and the Grand-Master the treasure of France."

In the meanwhile, the Queen had crossed the river with her ladies and the Cardinal de Tournon, and, guided by torchlight, the whole company set out at once for Saint-Jean-de-Luz, where they arrived at midnight. From that town Montmorency despatched a messenger to Bordeaux to announce the glad news to the King and Louise of Savoy, who were waiting there with the whole Court; and on July 3 François started to meet his bride and his sons.

The Queen and the princes, who were greeted in every town and village through which they passed with transports of joy, reached Bayonne on the evening of the 2nd. Great preparations had been made for their coming. A bridge had been constructed over the Adour, "so cunningly and ingeniously built, that people knew not whether they were on land or sea"; the streets between the bridge and the citadel, where the royal party was lodged, were decorated "triumphantly and magnificently"; "people habited in divers costumes" scattered money among the people, and "whoever wanted it might pick it up," and "comédies, facéties, et fantaisies" were performed "so wonderfully and ingeniously that never had son of man heard tell of such enterprises."[07] The Queen and the princes assisted at one of these entertainments — a pastoral play, written by the secretary of the Cardinal de Tournon, in which, we are told, the actors wore costumes of white taffeta, each of which had cost fifty livres tournois.

On the morrow, they resumed their journey, Eleanor riding in a litter, the princes on horseback. At Tartas, they were magnificently received by the King of Navarre, and at Mont-de-Marsan, where they arrived on the 6th, the Queen was informed that the King would meet her, with a small retinue, that evening at the Convent of Veyrières, about four leagues distant. Eleanor reached the rendezvous at nine o'clock, and was escorted by the Grand-Master and the Spanish Ambassador to the apartment prepared for her. François arrived two hours later, accompanied by the Cardinal de Lorraine, Chabot de Brion, and a few gentlemen of his Household, and gave the Queen "as good and honourable a reception as it was possible for a man enamoured of a lady to do." At midnight, the nuptial Mass was celebrated by the Bishop of Lisieux, First Almoner to the King, after which their Majesties retired.

Notes

(1) According to Henri Martin, some of them were sent to the galleys, and the galleys to which they were assigned being captured by Barbary corsairs, the unfortunate Frenchmen were carried off as slaves to Tunis, where they remained until the taking of that town by Charles V.

(2) The Duchesse d'Alençon had married Henri d'Albret, King of Navarre, in January 1527.

(3) Relation de l'huissier Bodin, Archives générales de Belgique; Le Guay, Négociations dipomatiques entre la France et l'Autriche durant les trente premières annees du XVIe siècle, Paris, 1845; Mignet, la Rivalite de François Ier et de Charles-Quint.

(4) "Your Majesty," she wrote, "God has graciously given you fine children, so you are the better able to judge of the paternal tenderness and regrets of the King. I entreat you, out of friendship for him, to grant his request." — Madame Coignet, la Fin de la vieille France: François Ier.

(5) This was the sum which it had been agreed should be handed over to the Spaniards at the moment of the princes' liberation. Of the balance of the ransom, 590,000 crowns had been already paid to Henry VIII, to reimburse him for a like sum lent to the Emperor, and the rest had been converted into an annual charge of 25,000 crowns on certain estates in Flanders belonging to the Duchesse de Vendôme.

(6) Ordonnance de Montmorency, Bayonne, May 25, 1530, cited by Decrue, Anne de Montmorency à la Cour de François Ier.

(7) Godefroy, Cérémonial françois.

Chapter VI

Change effected in the characters of the Dauphin and the Duc d'Orléans by their captivity in Spain — Impatience of François I, who "does not care for dreamy, sullen, sleepy children" — Eagerness of the King to regain a footing in Italy — Charles V's Italian league — Position and policy of Clement VII — Catherine de' Medici — Her early years — Her adventures during the revolution in Florence — Her suitors — François I sends envoys to Rome to propose a marriage between her and the Duc d'Orléans — Embarrassment of the Pope, who, while anxious for the French alliance, fears to give umbrage to the Emperor — Proposed interview between François and Clement at Nice — Duplicity of the Pope — The intimacy between Catherine and her cousin, the Cardinal Ippolito de' Medici, a source of disquietude to his Holiness — Catherine is sent to Florence and Ippolito to Hungary — Interview between the Pope and Charles V at Bologna — Clement skilfully outmanoeuvres the Emperor, and the marriage between Catherine and the Duc d'Orléans is arranged

NOTWITHSTANDING the apprehensions of François and Louise of Savoy, the health of the young princes would not appear to have been much affected by their captivity. The same, however, could not be said for their characters.

The Dauphin, who was now twelve, returned to France a grave, reserved youth, speaking little, and then in slow, measured tones, drinking scarcely anything but water, wearing only the most sombre clothes, and showing a regard for the minutiæ of etiquette most unusual in so young a prince — in a word, far more of a Spaniard than a Frenchman.

In the Duc d'Orléans — his junior by a year, and of a more sensitive nature — the change was even more marked. Awkward, taciturn, morose, unsociable, he seemed an altogether different being from the bright, intelligent lad whom the English Ambassador had seen at Amboise on the eve of his departure for Spain. The boy's spirit, in fact, had been crushed by the dreary existence which, as we have seen, had been his lot for more than four years — an existence in which he had not only been deprived of the affection and sympathy so necessary for one of his age, but subjected, it is but too probable, to constant petty humiliations at the hands of his callous gaolers. So profound was the impression which his sufferings had left upon him, that in 1542 — that is to say, twelve years after his return from Spain — Matteo Dandolo, the Venetian Ambassador in France, wrote that few people at the Court could ever remember to have heard him laugh.[01]

François, who was not the kind of man to make allowance for the shortcomings of others, could not conceal his displeasure at the change which had taken place in his sons, and particularly in the younger. He might have endeavoured to win the boy's confidence and affection, and thus gradually to dissipate his melancholy humour and persuade him that life held joys as well as sorrows. But the task was not one which commended itself to his selfish nature; and so, observing that the mark of a true Frenchman was to be always gay and lively, and that "he did not care for dreamy, sullen, sleepy children,"[02] he left both Henri and the Dauphin severely alone, and bestowed all the affection of which he was capable on his youngest son, Charles, Duc d'Angoulême, a frank, high-spirited boy — now in his ninth year — who bade fair to become a replica of his father in both appearance and character.

But, if poor Henri appeared to be lamentably deficient in princely qualities, he was, none the less, a Son of France, and as such a useful pawn in the political speculations of his ambitious sire; indeed, even before he had crossed the Bidassoa, he had already become the chief factor in a scheme by which François hoped to regain a footing in Italy.

For François's passion for Italy was the scourge of his reign; it was the passion of a lover for a beautiful and capricious mistress, and the rebuffs which he had sustained only seemed to make him the more eager to prosecute his suit. To him, the Peace of Cambrai was merely a truce to enable his exhausted kingdom to gather strength for fresh exertions; he had no thought of abiding by it a moment longer than suited his convenience. Scarcely, indeed, was the ink dry upon the parchment of the treaty than he was planning new combinations, eagerly scanning the map of Europe for fresh allies.

And his search did not seem likely to be a long one. The Turks, who had threatened Vienna in 1529, were again eager to advance into Austria; Henry VIII, whom the Emperor's attitude in the matter of the divorce of Catherine of Aragon had completely alienated, was ready for a close alliance with France; the Protestant princes of Germany were already casting their eyes in the same direction. Finally Charles V's settlement of Italy had left behind it the germs of much future trouble.

Charles had no ambition for annexation of territory for territory's sake, and, in opposition to the advice of several of his Ministers, he had restored the Milanese to Francesco Sforza, in consideration of an annual payment of 900,000 ducats, and reinstated the Pope in all his former possessions. The policy he had resolved to pursue was that of closing Italy to France by means of a federation of States, which was to comprise Naples, the Papacy, the Milanese, Ferrara, Florence, and Mantua, and the republics of Genoa, Siena, and Lucca.

It was a scheme which had much to recommend it, but there were several obstacles to its success. Sforza's subjects, ground down by the taxation which their ruler was obliged to impose in order to meet the Imperial demands, were not inclined to be exactly enthusiastic in the common cause; Siena's sympathies were with France, as were those of the democratic party in Florence; while Venice, which was still too powerful and too independent to be brought within the league, and had not forgiven Charles for having thwarted her ambition of becoming the predominant power in Italy, constituted a standing danger on the north-east.

But the chief source of disquietude to the Emperor was the attitude of the Holy See, which was the pivot of the Italian political system. Although the Papacy was not strong enough to unite Italy, it, nevertheless, wielded a great influence, and could always foment a formidable opposition to any prince who aimed at the domination of the peninsula. Recognising this, Charles had already done much to conciliate Clement and was prepared to do even more. He had given back to him all the Papal fortresses which had been occupied by the Imperialists during the war, compelled the Venetians to restore Ravenna and Cervia, and assisted him to reduce the rebellious Florentines to submission; and he had resolved to create Alessandro de' Medici Duke of Florence and bestow upon him the hand of his natural daughter Margaret. But neither thankfulness for past mercies nor the expectation of favours to come sufficed to make the scheming, shifty Pontiff more than a very unstable ally. As a temporal prince, he naturally regarded with jealousy and suspicion the Imperial predominance in Italy; as head of the Church, he positively shuddered at the prospect of the General Council which Charles was being strongly urged to convoke as the only way of securing the union of distracted Germany. For a General Council might demand Clement's deposition, on the ground that the election of a person of illegitimate birth to the Holy See was uncanonical; and, even if it spared him, it would most certainly insist on reforms in the financial machinery of the Holy See, which would result in the withdrawal of immense sums from his immediate control. To avert this disaster was now the principal object of Clement's tortuous policy, and he was quick to recognise that his chances of success would be greatly strengthened by an alliance with François. François had made a Concordat with the Papacy, and had therefore nothing to gain from the proposed Council; indeed, it was to his interest to oppose it, since the pacification of Germany would mean an alarming increase in the power of the Emperor. If his Holiness could arrive at an understanding with François, without alarming Charles and sacrificing the advantages he counted to secure from him, he would find himself in a stronger position than he had been since his accession. And the means of accomplishing this lay ready to his hand.

Clement VII had a little orphan cousin à la mode de Bretagne, whom he called his niece — Caterina Maria de' Medici, daughter of Lorenzo de' Medici, Duke of Urbino,[03] and Madeleine de la Tour d'Auvergne[04] — for whom he was anxious to find a suitable alliance — that is to say, one calculated to promote the Medicean interests.

Catherine — to give the girl the Gallicized form of her name, by which she is best known to history — had passed a troublous childhood. Born in the Palazzo Medici, at Florence, on April 13, 1519, she had lost her mother on the 28th of the same month, and her father a week later, victims both, say the chroniclers, of Lorenzo's promiscuous gallantries. Alfonsina Orsini, the ill-fated duke's mother, took charge of the little orphan, who towards the end of that summer was taken so ill that no one seems to have expected her to live. However, she recovered, and Leo X having summoned her to Rome, in the last days of October she set out for the Eternal City, under the care of her grandmother and Cardinal Giulio de' Medici, afterwards Pope Clement VII. "Secum fert arumnas Danaum!" (She brings all the calamities of the Greeks with her) exclaimed Leo, as this frail shoot of the line of Cosimo was carried into his presence — words which were certainly to prove prophetic with regard to the nation which Catherine was one day to be called upon to rule.

Leo X died in 1521, and Alfonsina Orsini some months earlier. The latter's daughter Clarice, wife of the banker Filippo Strozzi, succeeded her as Catherine's guardian, under the surveillance of the Cardinal de' Medici, who, after the brief reign of Adrian VI, was elected to the chair of St. Peter. Catherine's half-brother Alessandro, natural son of Lorenzo by a Moorish woman,[05] and her cousin Ippolito, son of Giuliano de' Medici, Leo X's younger brother, shared her house with her. For Ippolito, a handsome, good-natured boy, some seven years her senior, the child early conceived a warm affection, but she appears to have entertained a hearty dislike for the future ruler of Florence, whose pointed nose and swarthy complexion appealed to her as little as did his ungovernable temper and cruel disposition.

In the summer of 1525, Rome being in a very unsettled state, Clement VII decided to send Catherine and Alessandro to Florence, whither Ippolito had already preceded them. Alessandro, however, did not remain there long, as he went, in charge of a tutor, to live at the beautiful villa of Poggio a Cajano, midway between Florence and Pistoja; but Catherine and Ippolito took up their residence in the Palazzo Medici, in the Via Larga, under the care of Clarice Strozzi and Cardinal Silvio Passerini, who had been appointed governor of Florence.

It was now that the little girl's character began to take definite shape. Clarice Strozzi was a conscientious woman, but she appears to have been a harsh guardian, who kept an unsleeping eye upon her charge and never failed to visit with severity her childish peccadilloes. Thus, Catherine was often driven to dissimulation and skilful cajolery as a means of securing immunity from punishment, and this habit of deception, once formed, clung to her all her life; the methods which she employed at the Palazzo Medici she will practise at the Court of France; she will meet Diane de Poitiers, Guise, and Conde with exactly the same weapons as those with which she confronted Clarice Strozzi.

And she learned other lessons, too, besides the value of dissimulation. Some indiscreet words spoken in her presence very effectually undeceived her as to the intentions of her relatives in regard to her, and she recognised that, under colour of her welfare, they sought only the furtherance of their own ambitions. The impression that the discovery made on her mind was not a pleasant one; before she was eight years old her faith in human nature was entirely shattered; she distrusted every one, and particularly persons of high rank.

Two years passed in peace and obscurity; and then came the terrors of 1527, when Rome was sacked by the brutal soldiers of Bourbon, the Pope was in turn a prisoner and a fugitive, and Florence was a prey to rival factions. For, on the news of the downfall of Clement, the populace rose against the hated Medici and proclaimed the re-establishment of the republic.

At the beginning of the Revolution, Cardinal Passerini hurried Catherine away to Poggio a Cajano; but the democratic leaders, although they wished no harm to the "duchessina," as the little girl was called, considered her too valuable a hostage to lose; and she was accordingly brought back and lodged in the Dominican convent of Santa-Lucia. On May 18, her aunt arrived and took her back to the Palazzo Medici, where, however, the girl's arrival aroused so much indignation among the populace, that the same evening Clarice returned with her to the convent.

From the Convent of Santa-Lucia, Catherine was presently transferred to another nunnery, that of Santa-Caterina. As plague had broken out in Florence with fearful virulence,[06] and the convent in question was situated in one of the most unhealthy quarters of the city, the change of residence was attended by considerable danger to the unfortunate girl. But it was not until the beginning of December that, thanks to representations which the French Ambassador made on her behalf, she was removed to the Convent of Santa-Annunziata delle Murate, in the Via Ghibellina, which his Excellency had himself chosen for her.

The Murate — the name signifies the "walled-up ones" — had been originally a poor and very austere community, but, though it still clung to the custom of obliging each novice who joined it to make her entry through a hole in the outer wall, made for the occasion, and rebuilt behind her, in symbolisation of her final separation from the world,[07] it was now an easy-going and eminently aristocratic sisterhood, where many daughters of noble houses were received either as nuns or pupils, and strongly Medicean in its sympathies. Catherine therefore was assured of a warm welcome, and, as the letters written by her in later years prove, she always retained the most kindly feeling towards those who had sheltered her in those stormy days.

Catherine learned much from the high-born sisters in the Via Ghibellina during the two and a half years which she spent among them. "At the Murate," observes one of her biographers, "the Catherine of the Wars of Religion was formed."[08] They taught her those graceful manners, that ease in conversation, that exquisite courtesy, which fascinated the diplomatists and statesmen of her time, and disarmed even the sternest Huguenot when he was admitted to her presence. They taught her, it is to be feared, little that makes for godliness, except a certain respect for the forms and ceremonies of the Church; but, on the other hand, they encouraged and fostered that love of deception which was already ingrained in the girl's character, and taught her that expediency is the only true law and craft the natural and legitimate weapon of the weak. Thus, when, in the summer of 1530, while Florence was being closely besieged by the combined forces of Pope and Emperor, the Government, having ascertained that the sisters of the Murate were combining with their orisons a good deal of intriguing with the Medicean partisans who had remained in the city, sent commissioners to remove Catherine to the Convent of Santa-Lucia, the girl suddenly appeared among the nuns in the dress of their Order, and with her hair cut short, crying out: "Holy Mother! I am yours! Let us now see what excommunicated wretch will dare to drag a spouse of Christ from her monastery!"

Through the arguments of one of the commissioners, Silvestro Aldobrandini, the father of him who became Pope, more than sixty years later, under the title of Clement VIII, she was eventually persuaded to obey the order for her removal, though she obstinately refused to resume her ordinary dress, being determined, we are told, that all the world should see that she was a nun taken forcibly from her cloister. And so, still in conventual attire, she mounted the horse that Aldobrandini had brought and rode through the streets to Santa-Lucia, with a number of gentlemen marching on either side, to protect her from the fury of the starving populace, who had demanded that she should be suspended in a basket from the walls and exposed to the fire of the besiegers, or thrown as a prey to the soldiers.

The firmness of Aldobrandini, however, saved both her life and her honour, and she reached Santa-Lucia in safety.[09] Here, on August 12th, she learned of the surrender of the city, and lost no time in returning to her friends at the Murate, with whom she remained until the middle of September, when Clement VII sent Ottaviano de' Medici to bring her to Rome.

It was a very different Catherine who returned to the Eternal City from the one who had quitted it five years before. In years and appearance she was still almost a child, "small in stature, thin, and with a countenance which possessed no interesting feature," says that close observer, the Venetian Ambassador, Antonio Soriano, "but having the large eyes peculiar to the Medici family."[10] Intellectually, however, she was already a woman, shrewd, calculating, unscrupulous, with a nice appreciation of her own capabilities, and the fullest determination to profit by the experience she had acquired in so hard a school.

No sooner had his "niece" been restored to him than the question of her establishment in life began to engage very seriously the attention of the restless Pontiff. With a considerable dowry and her pretensions to the duchy of Urbino, the young lady had, of course, no lack of aspirants to her hand; indeed, during the past four years quite a number of matrimonial propositions had already been made to Clement from various quarters of Europe. Thus, as early as February 1527, we find Sir John Russell, the English Ambassador to the Vatican,[11] writing to Henry VIII:

"The saying is here, that Monsieur de Vaudemont's[12] commyng hither was to have the Pope's nyce, and that the Duke of Albany laboreth as much as he can, that the King of Scottes [James V] shuld have her,[13] and the Duke of Ferrara in likewise laboreth for his son."

And he goes on to say that he has sounded one of the Papal Ministers on the subject of a marriage between Catherine and Henry VIII's natural son, the Duke of Richmond,[14] "that might spend as much as too (sic) of the best of them," and that the Minister in question had expressed the opinion that "the Pope's Holines wold be very wel contentyd to have suche alliaunce."[15]

However, nothing came of these and several other proposals, for Clement, who regarded Catherine's hand as his most valuable political asset, was resolved not to bestow it except in a quarter whence he himself might derive substantial advantages; nor was it until a few weeks before the girl's return to Rome that he received a proposition which appeared to promise him all that he could reasonably hope for.

This proposition came from François I, who, having decided that a marriage between his second son and the titular Duchess of Urbino presented the best means of binding Clement to his interests — that is to say, so far as any one could ever hope to bind that shifty personage — and of regaining a footing in Italy, sent the Cardinal de Gramont and the Seigneur Francisque to Rome, to broach the subject to his Holiness. The French envoys found the Pontiff very much on his guard, but, after some difficulty, they succeeded in extracting a promise from him that he would not give his niece in marriage without the consent of the King of France.

Having been charged by his Majesty to visit his prospective daughter-in-law as soon as she arrived in Rome and communicate to him their impressions, they lost no time in doing so, and Francisque writes:

"The Duchess of Urbino, the Pope's niece, has arrived in this town. She is tall, handsome, and plump (embonpoint), and gives promise of being very intelligent. . . . The Pope loves her very much."[16] And, in a subsequent letter, he adds that she is "graceful and portée à plaire, and shows a need to be caressed and loved."

POPE CLEMENT VII (GUILIO DE MEDICI)

FROM THE PAINTING BY BRONZINO IN THE UFFIZI GALLERY, FLORENCE

Throughout the autumn of 1530 negotiations for the marriage were going on, though they made but little progress, for Clement's path in this direction was far from clear before him, it being above all things essential for him to avoid giving umbrage to the Emperor. Charles had a candidate of his own for Catherine's hand, in the person of Francesco Sforza, Duke of Milan. On every ground the French match was to be preferred to the Milanese, for Sforza, with his health so shattered that he already looked like an old man,[17] with his resources hopelessly crippled by the immense sum he was compelled to raise every year from his ruined country as the price of the Imperial protection, and with no political influence worth mentioning, was a very mediocre parti, whether from Clement's or his kinswoman's point of view. But the same overwhelming dread of a General Council which had induced the Pontiff to stomach the many mortifications he had received at Charles's hands made him hesitate to take a step which might precipitate the calamity which he was seeking to escape. He was, besides, more than a little suspicious of the good faith of the Most Christian King. The first proposal had been that Catherine should proceed to France so soon as the betrothal had taken place, and that the marriage should be celebrated when she had reached a marriageable age. To this Clement refused to consent, "lest she should become, as it were, a hostage in the hands of the King of France, who, having by that means made sure of the Pope, might then invade Italy for the conquest of the duchy of Milan."[18] Nor did he forget that many fiancées had been sent back, among them the Emperor's aunt, Margaret of Austria, in the time of Louis XII, and he considered that it was not improbable that, after his young kinswoman had served François's purpose, the King might find some pretext for breaking off the marriage.

It was finally arranged that Catherine's uncle, the Duke of Albany, who acted as trustee of his niece's French estates and had come to Rome to render an account of his stewardship, should return to France, lay his Holiness's views before the King, and bring back François's reply.

In the meanwhile, Clement, with the twofold purpose of stimulating the desire of the King of France to bring matters to a conclusion and of hoodwinking Charles's Ambassadors, Muscetolla and the Cardinal de Loaysa, continued to discuss with them the question of Catherine's marriage with Francesco Sforza, assuring them that, though he must await the reply with which Albany would be entrusted, he was quite of opinion that the King of France would renounce the affair, in which eventuality he would most readily give his kinswoman to the Duke of Milan.

Whatever his Ambassadors may have thought of these assurances, the Emperor himself would appear to have entertained no doubt as to Clement's preference for the French match. "The Cardinal de Gramont," writes he to Ferdinand of Austria, "who is returning from Rome, has spread the news on his way, and particularly in France, that the marriage between the Pope's kinswoman and the Duc d'Orléans is arranged, although the Holy Father has denied it absolutely in the conversation which he has had with my Ambassadors in Rome."[19]

Albany reappeared in Rome in November. The prospect of a match between Catherine and Sforza had greatly alarmed François, who recognised that such an alliance would unite the interests of the Pope to those of Charles V and effectually extinguish his chances of recovering the Milanese. He had accordingly instructed Albany to propose to Clement an interview at Nice, at which the conditions of the marriage might be settled personally, and to intimate that he would raise no difficulty in the way of Catherine's renunciation of her pretensions to Urbino in favour of the Pope, provided that the latter would give his kinswoman a sufficient dowry.

Clement agreed to this proposal, but, with characteristic cunning, at the moment when he had already decided to accept the French alliance, he charged the Imperial Ambassadors to beg their master to request the Duke of Milan not to conclude any other marriage, as he was most anxious to give Catherine to him, providing certain guarantees in regard to the defence of the duchy — which he knew very well were impossible — were forthcoming. And then, raising his hands to Heaven, he exclaimed: May God make the Emperor ruler of the whole world! I swear by God and before God that, if, to assure his universal sovereignty, it were necessary for me to renounce the Papal dignity, I would renounce it."[20]

Although the illness and death of Louise of Savoy[21] caused the projected alliance between Clement and François to be postponed, the negotiations continued, and early in July 1531 the draft of a marriage-contract, which had been drawn up at the Château of Anet, where the King and Court were visiting Diane de Poitiers,[22] was brought to Rome. The Pope, however, raised several objections, the fact being that he dared not commit himself definitely to the French alliance until he had made everything safe on the side of the Emperor; and at the end of August he told the Milanese Ambassador that he could not bring himself to accept either his master's or the King of France's proposal, from fear of troubling the peace of Italy.

In April 1532, the Pope sent Catherine back to Florence, where her half-brother, the detestable Alessandro, had lately been established at the head of a government, republican in form, but in reality of the most despotic kind. The reason given for the "duchessina's" departure was the fear that the heat of a Roman summer might be prejudicial to her precious health, but the true motive was probably a very different one. If we are to believe Soriano, she had lately shown unmistakable signs of a desire to embark upon a romance with her cousin, the engaging Ippolito, who, on his side, seemed only too ready to meet her half-way.

When Clement had determined to assign the government of Florence to Alessandro, notwithstanding his illegitimate birth, his vicious character, and the seniority of his cousin, he had resolved to force the latter into the Church, and, despite a strenuous resistance on the part of Ippolito, a cardinal's hat was eventually thrust upon him. This, however, did not prevent him from aspiring to the hand of his cousin. "It is said," writes the Venetian Ambassador, "that the cardinal intends to resign his hat and to espouse the Pope's niece, for whom he has the most lively inclination, and by whom he is tenderly beloved. She reposes all her confidence in him, and has recourse to none else for all her needs and all her private affairs."[23]

It was perhaps with the object of demonstrating his peculiar unfitness for the exalted position which he had been compelled to accept, and of obtaining his release from his ecclesiastical fetters, that during the Carnival of 1531 the youthful cardinal attempted to assassinate, with his own sacred hand, his kinsman Jacopo Salviati,[24] whom he suspected of having thwarted his designs upon the Papal treasury. But the Holy Father, though, of course, terribly shocked at such reprehensible conduct on the part of a member of the Sacred College, failed to see in it a sufficient reason for releasing him from his vows.

The intimacy between his Eminence and Catherine was viewed by Clement with considerable uneasiness, and, alarmed lest it might end in the girl being seriously compromised and the fruits of so much patient scheming destroyed, he invoked the malaria and packed her off to Florence, while, shortly afterwards, Ippolito was despatched as Legate to the Imperial Army operating against the Turks in Hungary.

The Emperor had for some time been desirous of a personal interview with Clement, in order to persuade him of the urgent necessity for that General Council which the Pontiff so much dreaded, and to confer with him on other important matters; and in the autumn of 1532 a meeting between them was arranged at Bologna, where, in February 1530, the Pope had placed upon Charles's head the iron crown of Lombardy and the crown of the Empire. The Emperor would, of course, have been willing to visit Clement in Rome, but the latter prudently preferred to make the arduous journey to Bologna rather than give his Imperial Majesty the opportunity of traversing the Papal States, where he might learn many things of which it was eminently desirable that he should continue in ignorance.

On November 18 his Holiness quitted Rome, travelling by way of Perugia, since recent events had rendered it inadvisable for him to shed the light of his countenance upon Florence; and, after a journey which "by reason of the contynuall rayne and fowl way, with other unfortunate accidentes, as the loss of certyn his mules, and the breking of the legge of oon Turkie horse, that he had specall good, and above all for the evell lodgings that he had with his companye, was wonder paynful,"[25] reached Bologna on December 7. The Emperor arrived on Thursday, the 12th, but deferred his official entry until the following day, apparently "bycause that apon the said Thursday was the full moon, which to some was thought for that purpose an unhappy tyme."

The result of his meeting with Charles V afforded Clement abundant compensation for the hardships which he had suffered on his journey to Bologna, for not only did he succeed in staving off the convocation of the General Council, but completely outmanoeuvred the Emperor in the matter of Catherine's marriage.

"After the negotiations on the subject of the marriage had been resumed," writes Guicciardini, who was perfectly informed in regard to all Clement's affairs, the Pope answered the Emperor, relative to the demand of his niece's hand for the Duke of Milan, that the propositions of the King of France were much anterior to his, and that he had listened to them with the approbation of the Emperor, who had not testified any disapproval. It would be, then, to offer too serious an affront to the King to give Catherine to one of his rivals, at the very moment of the opening of the negotiations. He did not believe, besides, that the King regarded the affair seriously, on account of the difference of rank and condition, and he considered that the sole object of his Majesty was to gain time. He could not then, so long as the King had not broken off the negotiations, wound him in a manner so sensible."

Charles, who found it difficult to conceive that François seriously intended to marry his son to a descendant of Florentine burghers, and believed that the exposure of his bad faith would be certain to create a serious breach between him and Clement, thereupon urged the Pope to request the French Ambassadors to the Vatican, the Cardinals de Gramont and de Tournon, who had come to the conference to watch the proceedings on behalf of their master, to demand full powers for the conclusion of the marriage-contract.

The cardinals, of course, lost not a moment in complying with the delighted Clement's request, and, to the Emperor's profound astonishment and mortification, the required credentials were despatched to Bologna with the briefest possible delay. For once, Charles had altogether over-reached himself.

Notes

(1) Armand Baschet, la Diplomatic vénitienne: les Princes de l'Europe au XVIe siècle.

(2) Brantôme.

(3) Only son of Piero de' Medici, the eldest of the three sons of Lorenzo the Magnificent. His uncle, Leo X, anxious for the aggrandizement of his family, had invested him with the duchy of Urbino, after unjustly dispossessing Francesco Maria della Rovere, its legitimate lord. However, the latter recovered his dominions soon after Lorenzo's death.

(4) Daughter of Jehan III, Seigneur de la Tour, Comte de Boulogne and d'Auvergne, who claimed descent from Godefroi de Bouillon. Her elder sister, Anne de la Tour d'Auvergne, had married, in 1505, John Stuart, Duke of Albany.

(5) But some writers believe that he was the son of Clement himself, a theory to which his Holiness's marked predilection for him, notwithstanding his detestable character, certainly lends colour.

(6) According to Segni, the mortality during the autumn of 1527 was between three and four hundred a day.

(7) Trollope, "The Girlhood of Catherine de Medici."

(8) M. Henri Bouchot, Catherine de Médicis.

(9) Catherine proved not ungrateful for the protection afforded her, since, after the surrender of Florence, it was mainly through her intercession that Aldobrandini was punished by exile instead of death.

(10) Soriano, cited by Armand Baschet, la Diplomatie Venétienne.

(11) Afterwards the first Duke of Bedford.

(12) Hercule d'Este, Comte de Vaudémont, younger brother of Antoine, Duke of Lorraine, and of Claude, Duc de Guise. He died during the siege of Naples in 1528.

(13) According to Soriano, the overtures of James V were rejected because, as his Holiness pointed out, couriers to Scotland would cost more than the young lady's dowry.

(14) Henry Fitzroy, born 1519. His mother was Elizabeth Blount, one of Catherine of Aragon's ladies-in-waiting. He married, in 1533, Mary, daughter of Thomas Howard, third Duke of Norfolk, and died three years later, not without suspicions of poisoning.

(15) State Papers of Henry VIII (Foreign Series), vol. vi.

(16) Cited by F. Decrue, Anne de Montmorency à la Cour de François Ier. Francisque's description of Catherine as "handsome and plump" is in singular contrast with that of Soriano, already cited; but he probably considered it his duty to view her through rose-coloured spectacles.

(17) He was not, however, "aged enough to be her [Catherine's] grandfather," as Trollope asserts, since he was only thirty-seven.

(18) Soriano, cited by Trollope.

(19) Letter of July 29, 1531, in A. von Reumont, Die Jugend Caterina's de' Medici.

(20) Despatch of the Cardinal de Loaysa to the Emperor, November 30, 1531, in Reumont.

(21) Louise of Savoy died on September 22, 1531. After her death, the immense sum of 1,500,000 gold crowns was found in her coffers, largely the fruit of her peculations.

(22) It is indeed a singular instance of the irony of Fate that such a document should have been drawn up under the roof of Catherine's future rival in her husband's affections.

(23) Soriano, in Reumont.

(24) Jacopo Salviati had married Lucrezia de' Medici, second daughter of Lorenzo the Magnificent.

(25) Bonner to Cromwell, December 24, 1532. State Papers of Henry VIII (Foreign Series), vol. vii. The future Bishop of London, who was at this time English Ambassador at Rome and had accompanied Clement to Bologna, adds that the unhappy Pope was "diverse tymes compelled by reason of the fowleness and daunger of the way to goo on foote the space of a myle or two, and besides that pleasure and pastyme, for lak of a fedder bed, compelled to lie in the strawe."

Chapter VII

Dowry of Catherine de' Medici — Her trousseau — Her pearls — A marvellous casket — The Florentines compelled to defray the greater part of the expense incurred by the Pope — François I's pensions to his son and future daughter-in- law — Efforts of Charles V to prevent the Pope's journey to Nice — Catherine's departure from Florence — She receives the presents of François I and the Duc d'Orléans — Objection of the Duke of Savoy to the marriage and the interview taking place at Nice necessitates the rendezvous being changed to Marseilles — Clement sails from Leghorn — Preparations at Marseilles — Arrival and reception of the Pope — His ceremonial entry into Marseilles — He is visited in secret by François I — Entry of Catherine — The marriage — Personal appearance of the bride and bridegroom — Presents given by the Pope and François to one another — Result of the conference between the two sovereigns — The death of Clement in the following year destroys the hopes which François has based on this alliance

NOTWITHSTANDING his parsimonious nature and the drain which the siege of Florence had imposed upon the Roman finances, Clement had determined that his young kinswoman must be suitably dowered; it was therefore agreed that her dot should consist of 100,000 gold crowns, to which the Pope added another 30,000, in consideration of her renunciation in his favour of all claims to the duchy of Urbino. She also, of course, brought her husband the estates in France which she had inherited from her mother, Madeleine de la Tour d'Auvergne, the value of which was estimated at about ten thousand crowns a year.

To procure the money which he had engaged to give his cousin, and of which 50,000 crowns were to be paid on the ratification of the contract and the balance in two instalments at intervals of six months, the impoverished Pope was compelled to have recourse to Filippo Strozzi. Strozzi advanced him 80,000 ducats, taking as security several jewels, among them a magnificent clasp for the Pontifical cope, which Benvenuto Cellini had fashioned. This transaction proved a very unprofitable one for the banker, for after Clement's death, in September 1534, his successor, Paul III, insisted on the restoration of the jewels, on the ground that they were not the property of Clement personally, but of the Holy See; and it was only with much difficulty, and after long delay, that Strozzi succeeded in obtaining payment of part of the sums due to him.

Besides a dowry in money, Catherine received a magnificent trousseau. "As to the trousseau," runs the contract, "the Supreme Pontiff will, at his own discretion, furnish his illustrious relative with clothing, ornaments, and jewels. The jewels will also be valued, and a record of them preserved, in order that, in the event of her surviving her husband, he may be able to recover them or the price of them."[01]

Among these jewels were a set of immense pear-shaped pearls, which contemporary writers declare to have been of fabulous origin and to have been worth a kingdom; but as a matter of fact, they had been purchased from a Lyons merchant, and were only valued at 900 crowns."[02] These pearls were, many years later, given by Catherine to her daughter-in-law, Mary Stuart, "whom I have seen wearing them," writes Brantôme. Reumont says that there was, in the Galerie d'Orléans of the Palais-Royal, at the time of the Revolution of 1848, a portrait of Mary Stuart, as the young wife of François II, with richly curling hair, a high lace ruff, and Catherine's pearls around her neck and on her bosom. This portrait is no doubt identical with one which is now at Chantilly; but, according to so high an authority as M. Bouchot, the lady therein represented is not Mary Stuart at all, but the Princesse de Conti.

The destiny of these pearls was a singular one, as after Mary's untimely end they were appropriated by Queen Elizabeth, who wore them without a blush, notwithstanding that they had originally come from a Pope, and had been blessed and consecrated by him.

But the most precious objet d'art which the bride-elect brought to her adopted country was a marvellous casket formed of twenty-four panels of rock-crystal in a setting of silver-gilt. Twenty of the panels were engraved with as many subjects from the life of our Saviour, from the Adoration of the Shepherds to the Ascension, while on the corner panels were carved the figures of the four Evangelists. The Medici Arms decorated the lid, on which was the following inscription: "Clemens VII, Pontifex Maximus."

This casket, which, in the opinion of Reumont, was originally intended for a sacred purpose, that is to say, to contain the Host, was the work of the goldsmith Valerio Vicentino, the most accomplished craftsman in the art of cutting precious stones whom modern times have produced. It may now be seen in the Museum of the Uffizi at Florence. How it returned to the country of its origin is a mystery; it is only known that it was in Florence in the first half of the seventeenth century.[03] The probability is that it was one of a number of objects of value which were placed during the reign of Charles IX in a cabinet in the Louvre and disappeared during the Wars of the League.[04]

Upon the trousseau properly so called — gowns, lingerie, and so forth — no expense was spared, and everything was of the most regal magnificence. The praises bestowed by some historians upon the Pope's munificence towards his kinswoman are, however, scarcely deserved, since a considerable part of the expense incurred appears to have been defrayed by the unfortunate Florentines. A few weeks before Catherine's departure for France, Alessandro de' Medici raised a forced loan of 35,000 scudi from the citizens, for the ostensible purpose of constructing the fortress of San-Giovanni, but it is asserted that most of this sum was applied to the adornment of the future Duchesse d'Orléans.

On his side, François I accorded his son an annual revenue of 50,000 livres tournois, and his future daughter-in-law one of 10,000 livres tournois, together with the Château of Gien, in the Orléanais, which had once belonged to the famous Dunois — the Bastard of Orléans — and subsequently to Anne de Beaujeu, who was Regent of France during the minority of her brother, Charles VIII.

While the negotiations for her marriage were proceeding, Catherine was living in the Palazzo Medici, at Florence, under the care of Maria Salviati, widow of the famous captain Giovanni de' Medici (Giovanni of the Black Bands), and daughter of that Jacopo whom the Cardinal Ippolito had attempted to assassinate during the Carnival of 1531. Hitherto the girl would appear to have led a somewhat sombre and monotonous existence; but now, with a view to preparing her for the great position she was soon to occupy, she was encouraged to live the gay and luxurious life of a lady of high rank, and we find her wearing magnificent toilettes and costly jewels, assisting at balls, masquerades, fetes, and hunting-parties, and patronising the studios of the painters and the ateliers of the sculptors. "At the Murate," says M. Bouchot, "the Catherine of the Wars of Religion was formed; here was fashioned the Catherine of the Tuileries or the Louvre, that of Chenonceaux or Fontainebleau, the impresario, the woman of magnificence, whose Florentine passion for ostentation will take heed neither of famines nor wars."[05]

How she regarded the prospect before her, it is difficult to say, for neither by word nor look does she appear to have given any indication of her feelings in the matter. That, if the choice of a husband had been left to her, she would have preferred her cousin Ippolito — the only being of the opposite sex who had shown her any affection — cannot be doubted; but, since her sentiments had been sacrificed to her interests, or rather to those of his Holiness, and since she already possessed her full share of the pride and ambition of her family, it is probable that she was well satisfied to become the daughter-in-law of the most splendid monarch in Europe.

At the time of the signing of the marriage-contract it had been arranged that the happy event should be celebrated at Nice, and that Clement should accompany the bride-elect thither, where, under the pretext of bestowing the Pontifical blessing upon the young couple, he might confer with the King of France in regard to the future of Italy. The feeble health of the Pope, however, necessitated the postponement of his journey until the early autumn of 1533, and, in the interval, the Emperor, who was seriously alarmed at the prospect of an interview between his rival and his slippery ally, made great efforts to prevent the latter's departure, and even went so far as to despatch an envoy to Rome to represent to Clement how derogatory it would be to the Papal dignity for him to leave his dominions to meet the King of France.[06] But his Holiness, though he did not fail in assurances of his devotion to the interests of the Emperor, was not to be turned from his purpose; and on July 17 his approaching departure was formally announced, and Filippo Strozzi started for Florence, charged with the duty of making all the necessary arrangements.

On September 1, Catherine took leave of her native city at a grand banquet, to which she had invited all the most noble ladies in Florence, and in the late afternoon of the same day set out on her journey, accompanied by Filippo Strozzi, the historian and diplomatist Francesco Guicciardini, Maria Salviati, Caterina Cybo, Duchess of Caminino, and Palla Rucellai — a daughter of Lorenzo the Magnificent's younger sister Nannina — and a splendid retinue. The first night she slept at Poggia a Cajano, and the second at Pistoja, where François du Bellay, Comte de Tonnerre, who had joined the party en route, handed her the presents of François I and the Duc d'Orléans, "a sapphire tablet and a diamond cut en dos d'âne." Thence, by easy stages, she proceeded to Porto Venere on the Tuscan coast, where a squadron of French galleys under the command of her uncle Albany were waiting to convey her to Nice.

Nice had been originally selected for the marriage and the interview between the Pope and François with the object of saving the dignity of the Holy Father, since it was neutral territory. But the Duke of Savoy, to whom it at this time belonged, having been lured away from France by the bait of Charles V's sister-in-law, Beatrix of Portugal, manifested some displeasure on learning of the arrangement, and the Pope thereupon consented that the marriage and the conference should take place at Marseilles.[07]

Having landed Catherine and her suite at Nice, where she was to await the coming of the Pope, Albany and his galleys returned to Leghorn to fetch Clement, who had quitted Rome on September 9. His Holiness, travelling by way of Montepulciano, in order to avoid Florence, arrived in the first days of October, accompanied by an imposing retinue, which included ten cardinals and a great number of bishops and other high ecclesiastical dignitaries. The French galleys had, in the meanwhile, been reinforced by the squadrons of Andrea Doria and of the Prior of St. John of Jerusalem, and when the Pope embarked, more than sixty vessels hoisted their flags and saluted him by repeated salvoes of artillery.

The galley to which had been assigned the honour of conveying the sacred person of the Pontiff was draped from stem to stern with gold brocade; while the vessel which led the van bore the Holy Sacrament, in accordance with the custom of the Popes when they travelled by sea.

Assisted by a favourable wind, the galleys reached Villafranca on October 10, where Catherine and her suite were taken on board, and then made sail for Marseilles.

Great preparations for the reception of the illustrious guests had been made at Marseilles. About the middle of August, Anne de Montmorency, to whom the arrangements had been entrusted, arrived there, and gave instructions for three of the finest houses in the city to be made ready for their accommodation. We are not told where the house selected as Catherine's residence was situated, but those of the Pope and the King were in the Place-Neuve and separated only by one of the narrow streets running into the square. Communication between them was established by means of a wooden gallery erected over the street, in the centre of which was a chamber hung with costly tapestries. Thus, the two sovereigns would be able to enjoy as many private interviews as they desired, without the smallest risk of their conversations being overheard.

François arrived at Marseilles on October 8, but he did not make a ceremonial entry, since etiquette required that the entry of the King should be deferred until after the Holy Father had made his. Accordingly, after having satisfied himself that everything was in readiness, he joined the Queen and the princes at Aubagne, a village three leagues distant, on the road to Aix, leaving the Grand-Master, with all the high ecclesiastics of the realm, to receive the Pope.

On the morning of the 11th, signals from the Château d'lf and the fortress of Notre Dame de la Garde announced to the expectant Marseillais that the flotilla was in sight, whereupon there was a general rush to the harbour, and a number of craft of all sizes, crowded with the faithful, put out to meet his Holiness and welcome him "with hautbois, clarions, and trumpets."

At the entrance to the port he was received with a salute from three hundred cannon placed in different quarters of the city, while the bells of all the churches clashed out a merry peal. The galleys forming the Papal escort returned the salute, and "the whole harbour seemed to be on fire."

On landing, Clement was received by the Grand-Master, who conducted him to his own residence, situated on the farther side of the harbour, near the Abbaye de Saint-Victor. Here he dined and received the homage of the French cardinals, archbishops, and bishops, and then proceeded to the abbey, where he was to pass the night.

"On the morrow, which was Sunday," says a contemporary relation, "he went to hear Mass at the Abbaye de Saint-Victor, where he visited several holy relics . . . and at two hours after noon he began to make his entry into the town, which occupied four whole hours. The Corpus Domini was honourably borne upon a white horse richly caparisoned, and before it walked Messieurs d'Orléans and d'Angoulême, and all the princes, chevaliers of the Order, and nobility. Archers of the Garde du Corps, holding torches in their hands, and the King's Swiss surrounded the Pope, who was carried by his chamberlains,[08] in the dress of a cardinal, his embroidered hat of crimson satin being borne before him, while in his train came fourteen cardinals, amongst whom were the Legate of Avignon, the Cardinals de Bourbon, de Lorraine, and de Gramont, and thirty-six bishops, all habited in the Roman and apostolic fashion. After having visited the Major, which is the metropolitan church, our lord alighted at the lodging prepared for him, which was so well arranged and constructed that it could not have been bettered. It is impossible to describe the great nobility who were present at the said entry, and in the town and neighbourhood the firing of cannon and arquebuses went on without ceasing from the moment of his arrival. . . . Our said Holy Father is very hale and strong,[09] fifty-five years of age, rather above the middle height, and wearing a long beard reaching to his stomach. He is a good-humoured-looking man, who shows that he is possessed of the highest intelligence."[10]

About ten o'clock that night, François I, attended only by a few gentlemen, came to Marseilles and paid a secret visit to the Pope. Next day (October 13), his Majesty made his own State entry, upon the splendours of which and that of the Queen, which was the event of the 14th, we shall not dwell here. Finally, on the 23rd, at four o'clock in the afternoon, "the Duchess of Urbino, coming from Aubagne, where she had dined that day, made her entry into the town of Marseilles, mounted on a roan horse covered with brocade, and having six led horses following her, who were caparisoned in scarlet and gold brocade, extremely pompous. She was accompanied by twelve demoiselles on horseback, and escorted by the guards of the Pope and the King. Afterwards, came a coach draped in black velvet, with two pages on horseback, and the pages of the Cardinal de' Medici,[11] who rode splended chargers caparisoned likewise."[12]

Five days later (Tuesday, October 28), the marriage was celebrated, with great splendour, the Pope himself officiating, to give greater importance and solemnity to the event.

An English historian of François I speaks of "the extreme personal beauty of the young couple,"[13] and, though this description is certainly not borne out either by their portraits or by the testimony of impartial contemporaries, they were far from an ill-looking pair.

CATHERINE DE MEDICI

AFTER A DRAWING IN THE BIBLIOTHÈQUE SAINTE-GENEVIÈVE

Henri, indeed, who, it maybe mentioned, had been knighted by his royal father a few days before, might almost have been called handsome. He had inherited the fine dark eyes and straight nose of his grandmother, Louise of Savoy; his hair was black, his complexion very pale. In stature, he appears to have been rather tall for his age, with a well-knit frame, hardened and developed by tilting, fencing, tennis, and other manly exercises, in which he was already so proficient that few at the Court could hold their own against him.[14]

Of Catherine at the time of her marriage there is no authentic portrait in existence, for the painting of the happy event by Vasari is an allegory. There is, however, a painting of her at Versailles by an unknown artist, executed in all probability some three or four years later, which shows us a rather plain young girl, with full lips, a receding chin, and hair frizzled at the temples. On the other hand, Reumont speaks of another portrait of the future Queen of France, which, he thinks, must have been painted not long after her marriage, and which seems to be more flattering to its subject. "Without being beautiful," he says, "the face is at least agreeable, with features which, though rather strongly marked, are not irregular. She wears flowers in her hair, which is drawn back from her forehead, a high gown, a ruche of rich lace round her neck, and her sleeves are embroidered with pearls." Singularly enough, Reumont does not tell us in what collection he found this portrait.

Shortly after the ceremony, the King and Queen, the whole Royal Family, and the princes and princesses of the blood came to the Pope's residence and conducted Catherine to that of the King; François himself, "dressed in white satin, with a royal mantle of gold spangled with pearls and precious stones," escorting the bride, who was covered with brocade, her corsage being of ermine filled with pearls and diamonds, with a coiffe embroidered with pearls and precious stones on her head, surmounted by the crown of a duchess."[15]

At the royal lodging a sumptuous banquet had been prepared. There were three tables. At one sat the Pope and the Queen, Clement having decided to relax for the nonce the severe etiquette which his position imposed upon him; that in the centre was for the King and the Cardinals de' Medici and Rodolfi; while the third was occupied by the bride, the young princes, the princes and princesses of the Blood, the King of Navarre, the Duke of Albany, the Marchese di Saluzzo, and the Cardinal Salviati, Catherine occupying the place of honour. In the evening, there was a grand ball, which, however, was interrupted just before midnight, when the King conducted his daughter-in-law to the nuptial chamber, in which stood a state bed of such magnificence that it was reported to have cost more than half the bride's dowry.

Splendid fêtes followed the wedding, and the rejoicings were prolonged for nearly a month, greatly to the satisfaction of the worthy citizens of Marseilles, who must have reaped a bounteous harvest. Before the two Courts separated costly presents were, of course, exchanged. Among others, François gave the Pontiff a magnificent Brussels carpet, the pattern of which represented the Last Supper. To Ippolito de' Medici, who refused to accept any valuable presents, he gave "a tame lion, which he had received from Barbarossa."[16] What the Cardinal did with this somewhat alarming kind of pet, History does not record. Among the gifts of the Pope to François, was "a piece of the horn of a unicorn,"[17] beautifully mounted by the Milanese goldsmith Tobio, which was said to possess the power of destroying the effects of poison mixed with food. It seems a pity that his Holiness did not bestow this potent charm upon Ippolito, who needed it much more than the King of France, since not long afterwards his Eminence was poisoned by an emissary of his amiable kinsman Alessandro.

Clement also created four new French cardinals, one of whom was Odet de Coligny — brother of the celebrated Gaspard — who subsequently embraced the Reformed faith; while the King invested four of the Papal dignitaries with the Order of Saint-Michel.

On November 27, the Pontiff was escorted in solemn state to his galley and sailed for Civita Vecchia, and a few days later the French Court set out for Amboise.

While the fêtes and rejoicings were engaging the attention of the two Courts, Clement and François had not forgotten the real object of the former's journey to Marseilles, and had been frequently closeted together in earnest conference. The outcome of their deliberations was a secret understanding which threatened to bring the armies of the King and the Emperor once more into the already desolated plains of Lombardy. "The dowry is not such a poor one after all," observed Filippo Strozzi to the Treasurer of France, as the first instalment was being paid over, "if you reckon the three jewels which the Pope will presently give to his cousin: Genoa, Milan, and Naples. Do not such jewels appear to you worthy of a king's daughter? This was to rate the results of the Pontifical alliance rather too highly, for Clement had had the address not to take any positive engagements against the Emperor. In fact, his dread of incurring the Imperial displeasure was so great that in the following March he allowed himself to be intimidated into sanctioning the decree which pronounced Henry VIII's first marriage good and valid, thereby occasioning the formal revolt of England against the authority of the Papacy. That, on the death of Francesco Sforza, in October 1535, he would have supported François in the war which then broke out is, however, quite probable. But he did not live to see that day, as on September 25, 1534 — ten months after he had quitted the shores of France — his career of duplicity and prevarication came to an end.

And so François I gained nothing by the marriage which he had been at such pains to bring about, and lost even the final instalment of Catherine's dowry, as the new Pope, Paul III, naturally refused to be bound by the obligations of his predecessor.

Notes

(1) "Quantum attinet ad cultum muliebrem, Summus Pontifex Illustrem suam neptem, arbitratu suo, ornabit vestitu mundo ac gemmis: æstimabuntur autem gemmæ, idque scripto constabit ut si forsan ipsa marito superstes fuerit, illas aut illarum pretium possit recuperare."

(2) M. Henri Bouchot, Catherine de Médicis.

(3) "The earliest record of its presence in the Florentine collection," writes Trollope, "is in the catalogue drawn up in 1635."

(4) Reumont.

(5) Catherine de Médicis.

(6) When Clement had journeyed to Bologna to meet the Emperor, he did not leave his dominions, since Bologna was a Papal city.

(7) Miss Sichel, in her interesting work "Catherine de' Medici and the French Reformation," says that Marseilles was "the place insisted on by François for the meeting, as a proof of Papal deference to France." But this is quite incorrect.

(8) On a chair draped with velvet.

(9) The unfortunate Pope was far from being "hale and strong," as he was already suffering from the disease which caused his death eleven months later.

(10) Documents historique tirés des manuscrits de la Bibliothèque royale, published by Champollion.

(11) Ippolito de' Medici. He had lately returned from Hungary, and had accompanied the Pope to Marseilles.

(12) Honoré Bouche, la Chorographie, ou description de Provence et l'Histoire chronologique du mesme pays.

(13) Julia Pardoe, "The Court and Reign of François."

(14) Nine years later, Matteo Dandolo, the Venetian Ambassador, wrote that Henri was "so strongly built that one might believe him all made of muscle." Brantôme tells us that he was a remarkably fine runner and the best long-jumper among the young men at the Court.

(15) Bouche.

(16) "Dedit mansuefactum leonem eximia proceritatis, quem e Mauritania Haradienus Barbarussa transmiserat." — Paulus Jovius (Paola Giovio), Historia sui temporis.

(17) Presumably, an elephant's tooth.

Chapter VIII

Early married life of Henri and Catherine de' Medici — Unpopularity of the marriage — Diplomacy of Catherine, who contrives to secure the favour of François I and the friendship of Marguerite d'Angoulême and the King's mistress, Madame d'Étampes — Sketch of the last-named lady — Execution of François's agent, Maraviglia, at Milan — The King prepares to invade the Milanese, but the death of Clement VII and the expedition of Charles V against Tunis cause him to suspend operations — Death of Francesco Sforza — François demands the Milanese for the Duc d'Orléans — The French occupy Savoy and Piedmont, but the King allows the Emperor to delude him with negotiations — Charles's speech to the Pope and the Sacred College — Treachery of the Marchese di Saluzzo — The Emperor invades Provence — Devastation of the country by Montmorency — Death of the Dauphin François makes Henri heir to the throne — Grief of the King — The Conte Sebastiano Montecuculli arrested on a charge of having poisoned the prince — He confesses, under torture, to having been instigated by the Imperialists to poison the King and his three sons — His execution — The Imperialists repudiate the charge and accuse Catherine de' Medici

THE first three years of the married life of Henri and Catherine present few features of interest. In the case of the former, the event which had required so much tortuous diplomacy to bring about made comparatively little change. It is true that he now possessed a wife — a luxury with which he would no doubt have been very willing to dispense, if he had been allowed any voice in the matter — and was required to give her the benefit of his society at stated times; but, since he was a younger son, and his elder brother was still unmarried, he was not allowed an establishment of his own, but shared that of the Dauphin and the Duc d'Angoulême, as he had before his marriage. In like manner, the ladies and officers attached to Catherine's person were also the attendants of her sisters-in-law, Mesdames Madeleine and Marguerite, and the three young princesses were placed on a footing of equality.

The restless crowded existence of the Court afforded the young couple small opportunity of understanding one another. The Valois Kings did not, like those of later times, reside in one spot; they were continually on the move from one royal Château to another: from les Tournelles, in Paris, to Fontainebleau, from Fontainebleau to Amboise, and from Amboise to Blois, while visits were often paid to the country-seat of some great noble whose forests afforded unusual facilities for sport. Thus, the newly wedded pair enjoyed little privacy, nor is it probable that they had any great desire for a closer companionship. Henri saw before him a plain, unformed girl, who was reputed to be clever, a fact which made him feel awkward and constrained in her presence; Catherine, a morose, tongue-tied boy, who resisted all her efforts to draw him out, or even to bring a smile to his lips. We may here observe that for some time after her marriage Catherine's health was too delicate to permit of her being a wife in the true sense of the word, a circumstance which no doubt goes far to explain why she so signally failed to gain the affections of a husband "de nature plus corporelle que spirituelle."[01]

Her consort's indifference was not the only mortification which Catherine had to endure. The marriage was distinctly unpopular with both Court and people. The former looked upon it as a mésalliance; the latter, mindful of the intolerable burdens which the King's Italian enterprises had entailed, regarded the Papal alliance as the forerunner of further ruinous wars, and did not conceal their resentment. The non-payment of the balance of Catherine's dowry and the favour shown by her to her Italian attendants naturally did not tend to make her any the more popular, and two years after the marriage the Venetian Ambassador, Giustiniani, writes that it "displeased the entire nation and that it was considered that Pope Clement had deceived the King." The Ambassador adds, however, that Catherine is "very submissive," and that the King, the Dauphin her husband, and the Duc d'Angoulême appeared much attached to her.

This submissiveness, or rather suppleness, was to stand the young princess in good stead, for, if she failed to gain her husband's affection, she at least ensured kindness and consideration at his hands, while, if she were far from a popular personage with the majority of the courtiers, she succeeded in gaining the goodwill of the King.

To secure the favour of such a squire of dames as François was not difficult. Her shrewdness, her ready wit, her liveliness and good-humour, pleased him greatly; he admired her grace in the dance, her skill and courage on horseback, and he was flattered by her evident anxiety to conform to his wishes and the pleasure she seemed to take in his society. At her urgent entreaty, he enrolled her in the "Petite Bande" — that little company of beautiful, witty, and complaisant ladies, of whom Madame d'Étampes was the acknowledged chief, whose privilege it was to accompany the King on his visits to his different country-seats, to follow him in the chase, to dine and sup at his table, to bandy jests with him, most of which, we fear, would scarcely bear repetition in a modern drawing- room, and, generally, to do their best to make him forget that he was now a middle-aged man in very indifferent health. From that time Catherine was seldom free from his Majesty's side, and was soon firmly established in the royal favour.

It is probable that Catherine's success with the King was facilitated by the fact that she had had the wit to insinuate herself into the good graces of two persons who possessed more influence with François than all the rest of the Court combined. One was the Queen of Navarre, to whose kind heart the lonely, unloved girl made an irresistible appeal, and whose sympathy, once enlisted on her side, she was careful to preserve by a skilful appearance of deference. The other was the reigning favourite, Madame d'Étampes, dame d'honneur to the princesses, without whose sanction no lady was ever admitted to the King's intimate circle. Finding her young mistress disposed to seek her friendship and counsel, the duchess was graciously pleased to accord her the ægis of her protection and to commend her to the favourable notice of her royal admirer.

HENRI DE VALOIS, DUC D'ORLEANS (AFTERWARDS HENRI II)

FROM THE DRAWING BY FRANÇOIS CLOUET IN THE MUSÉE CONDÉ, CHANTILLY

A few words concerning this all-powerful lady may not be without interest.

Anne de Pisseleu, the future Duchesse d'Étampes, was born towards the close of the year 1508, at the Château of Fontaine-Lavaganne, near Beauvais. Her father was Guillaume de Pisseleu, Seigneur d'Heilly, a nobleman whose views on the subject of children were so completely in accord with those of the Psalmist that he married three times and gave to his Majesty no less than thirty lieges. Anne belonged to the second brood, her mother being a Mlle. Sanguin.

As the years went by, the worthy seigneur began to find the weight of so very full a quiver somewhat difficult to sustain, and, so soon as Anne had attained a marriageable age, he procured her the post of maid-of-honour to Louise of Savoy, in the hope that her pretty face might suffice to secure her a husband who would be disposed to waive the question of dowry.

Many writers, on the authority of Brantôme, state that the girl was presented at Court during the captivity of the King, and that François met her, for the first time, at Mont-de-Marsan, on his return from Spain in the spring of 1526, and fell in love with her at first sight. But, in point of fact, she had made her appearance at Court four years earlier, and there is reason to believe that she had attracted the attention of the King before the débâcle of Pavia, and that it was to her, and not to Madame de Chateaubriand, that were addressed those plaintive verses with which the prisoner of the Alcazar endeavoured to beguile the tedium of his captivity.

However that may be, scarcely had François been restored to his kingdom than their relations were a secret from no one; his Majesty appeared at tournaments wearing the young lady's colours, and Madame de Chateaubriand was completely discarded. Nor can we wonder at the monarch's infatuation. Mlle. d'Heilly, by which name his new enchantress was henceforth known, was not only young and beautiful, but intelligent and accomplished. Charles de Sainte-Marthe called her "la plus belle des savantes et la plus savante des belles," and Marot wrote:

"À Heilly

Dix-huit ans je vous donne,

Belle et bonne;

Mais à votre sens rassis,

Trente-cinq et trente-six

J'en ordonne."

Moreover, she was sprightly and vivacious, and possessed in a supreme degree the art of pleasing. In short, it would have been difficult to find anyone more calculated to appeal to a man of François's temperament at a moment when his only desire was to forget his misfortunes and sufferings in a round of pleasure and excitement.

The subjugation of the King was as complete as it was speedy, and when his new favourite imperiously demanded that he should require her predecessor in his affections to restore the jewels which he had given her, "not because of their price and value, but because she coveted the beautiful devices engraved upon them, which the Queen of Navarre, his sister, had made and composed,"[02] his Majesty consented without the least hesitation. To the messenger charged with the King's commands Madame de Chateaubriand replied that she was ill, but that he might return in three days. She profited by this respite to send for a goldsmith and have the jewels melted down, and when the messenger returned, she handed him the simple ingots. "Go," said she, "carry them to the King, and tell him that, since it is his pleasure to take back what he gave so generously, I restore his gifts in ingots of gold. As for the mottoes, they are so indelibly engraved on my mind, and I hold them so sacred, that I cannot suffer another than myself to appropriate or find pleasure in them."

When this message was delivered to François, he had the grace to feel ashamed of his shabby treatment of the woman whom he had once professed to love, and whom he had cast off for Mlle. d'Heilly "ainsi qu'un clou chasse l'autre."  "Take them all back to her," he exclaimed; "I valued them not for their intrinsic worth, but for the mottoes and devices which they bore, for willingly would I have given her double. Since she has caused these to be destroyed, I do not wish for the gold, and she may keep it. She has given proof of more courage and generosity than I should have believed a woman capable of showing."[03]

Like Madame de Pompadour, two centuries later, Anne de Pisseleu had the talent to assure by the charms of her mind the empire which her beauty would not perhaps have sufficed to maintain, and she ruled her royal lover to the day of his death. In order to save appearances and diminish the scandal, François decided to find the lady a husband, of sufficiently high lineage to be accepted by the Court, and of sufficiently meagre fortune to bestow the shelter of his name on the avowed mistress of the King. His choice fell upon Jean de Brosse, a direct descendant of the Vicomtes de Limoges, who consented to the marriage proposed to him in order to recover his family estates, which had been confiscated, owing to the participation of his father, René de Brosse, in the conspiracy of Bourbon.[04] As the reward of his complaisance, the King not only restored to him his confiscated property, but created him Comte de Penthièvre, appointed him governor of Brittany, gave him the collar of the Order of Saint-Michel, and finally erected for him, or rather for his wife, the county of Étampes into a duchy.

Anne's marriage, of course, made no difference in her relations with the King, for the union was merely a nominal one, and her favour seemed only to increase with time. She used her credit to protect artists and men of letters, who vied with one another in celebrating her charms,[05] and to sustain the Reformed ideas, but especially to enrich her numerous relatives. On her recommendation, her uncle, Antoine Sanguin, was successively created Abbot of Fleury, Bishop of Orléans, cardinal, and, finally, Archbishop of Toulouse. She procured for Charles de Pisseleu, her second brother, the Abbey of Bourgeuil, and afterwards the Bishopric of Condom, and for another brother the Abbey of Compiègne. Two of her elder sisters became abbesses, while she found husbands for the younger among the greatest families in the kingdom. It is little wonder that, in those days, when a king happened to be concerned, people were inclined to regard the peccadilloes of their wives, daughters, or sisters with a very indulgent eye.

But we must now turn from the intrigues of the Court to more weighty matters.

Ever since the Peace of Cambrai, François had been eagerly looking forward to the moment when he should once more be in a position to challenge his arch-enemy's supremacy in Italy; and his alliance with the Papacy had brought the inevitable conflict appreciably nearer. Already, indeed, he had found a specious pretext for disturbing the peace of Europe. At the end of 1532, François had accredited to the Duke of Milan a secret agent named Maraviglia, a Lombard by birth, but engaged for many years past in the service of France. In the following summer, some bravi in the employ of this personage assassinated a gentleman who had insulted their master, whereupon Sforza, at the instigation, it was believed, of the Emperor, caused Maraviglia to be arrested and executed, after a summary trial. Although Maraviglia's mission was not publicly recognised, it was understood, and François at once declared that his death was a violation of the law of nations, indignantly refused to listen to Sforza's explanations, and announced his intention of avenging by arms the affront he had received.

However, though he began mobilising troops along the Savoy frontier, various causes contributed to suspend his operations. He was not yet quite ready for war, having a grand scheme in contemplation for the reorganisation of the French army, upon which we need not dwell, since it was never carried out; then, in September 1534, the death of Clement VII deprived him of the expected support of the Papacy; while the announcement of Charles V's expedition against Barbarossa and his pirate hordes necessitated a further postponement. To attack the Emperor when he was on his way to avenge Christendom, devastated by the ravages of the Barbary corsairs, and to deliver from captivity thousands of Christian slaves would have excited the reprobation of Europe; while, on the other hand, by awaiting his return before declaring war, he might find him with a ruined army and an exhausted treasury.

In this hope he was deceived, for, at the beginning of September 1534, Charles returned triumphant, having twice defeated Barbarossa, taken Tunis, and rescued over 20,000 Christian captives, including a number of Frenchmen.

François had now no longer any motive for staying his hand, and he hastened to conclude a secret alliance with Soliman, which stipulated that, while the King of France invaded the Milanese, the Ottoman fleet should make a descent on the Neapolitan coasts. Pope or Sultan, it was all the same to this Most Christian King, if, by the aid of one or the other, he could succeed in regaining a footing in Italy.

Just as François was preparing to fulfil his part of this odious contract, Francesco Sforza died (October 24, 1535), leaving no heir. Imperial troops under Antonio de Leyva at once entered the Milanese and occupied it as a fief which had reverted to its suzerain.

François, on his side, lost no time in demanding the duchy for the Duc d'Orléans, promising that, if this claim were conceded by the Emperor, he would reiterate his own renunciation of the kingdom of Naples, and oblige Henri to renounce the pretensions which he had, in right of his wife, to the lordship of Florence and the duchy of Urbino. Charles refused the demand, so far as Henri was concerned, but offered to give the investiture of the Milanese to his younger brother, the Duc d'Angoulême, on certain conditions. It is doubtful if the Emperor was sincere in making this offer; but, any way, François persisted in his demand on behalf of Henri, and, after waiting in vain for a reply, requested of the Duke of Savoy a passage for the French army through his States. This being refused by Charles III, a feeble prince, who was entirely dominated by his wife, Beatrix of Portugal, a sister-in-law of the Emperor, he revived a frivolous and long-abandoned claim of Louise of Savoy to her father's dominions, and early in February despatched an army under Chabot de Brion and the Comte de Saint-Pol across the frontier. Neither in Savoy nor in Piedmont did the French meet with any serious resistance, and by the middle of March Turin and nearly all the towns of Piedmont had opened their gates to the invaders.

Had the victorious French marched at once into the Milanese they might have subdued it with almost equal ease, for the Imperialists there were too weak to have offered an effective resistance; but François, unwilling to take the offensive directly against the Emperor, so long as there remained any chance of an accommodation, allowed Charles to delude him with negotiations for the cession of the duchy to Henri. These negotiations were, of course, entered into by the astute Emperor with no other object than that of gaining time, and so soon as he had gathered sufficient troops to take the field, he proceeded to Rome, and there, before the new Pope (Paul III) and the Sacred College, delivered a remarkable speech, in which, after reviewing his past grievances against François, he threw all the responsibility for the new rupture upon his rival, and declared his willingness to offer him the choice of three courses: first, the Milanese for the Duc d'Angoulême, on condition of a firm and durable peace being made, and of the King's co-operation against infidels and heretics; or, secondly, single combat, to be fought out with sword or poniard in their shirts, with the duchies of Burgundy and Milan as the stakes; or, thirdly, war, in which he should engage with the greatest reluctance, but should, nevertheless, wage in such fashion that "nothing in the world should turn him aside until either he or the King had become the poorest gentleman in his country." He concluded by calling on the Pope to judge between him and his rival, from which invidious duty, however, the diplomatic Paul begged to be excused.

François returned no answer to the Imperial defiance,[06] and hostilities began forthwith. Since Charles had profited by the time consumed in futile negotiations to send powerful reinforcements into the Milanese, the invasion of the duchy was no longer possible, and the King, therefore, resolved to act on the defensive. But the Marchese di Saluzzo, a shifty Italian, to whom he had been imprudent enough to leave the command in Piedmont, deserted to the Emperor,[07] and by the end of June the French had been driven in confusion across the Alps. The garrisons of Turin, Pinerolo, and one or two other places alone held out.

Flushed with his triumphs in Africa, Charles, departing from his usual caution, now determined on the invasion of Provence, and, though Antonio de Leyva, who had a lively recollection of the fiasco of 1524, besought him to abandon such a hazardous undertaking, his remonstrances were unheeded, and on July 25 the Emperor crossed the Var at the head of 50,000 men; while, almost simultaneously, another army under the Comtes de Nassau and de Rœux invaded Picardy from the Netherlands.

François had entrusted the defence of Provence to Anne de Montmorency, who, with the authorisation of the King, had recourse to the most barbarous method of arresting the advance of an invader that it is possible to employ. The whole of the country from the sea to the Durance, and from the Alps to the Rhône, was ruthlessly laid waste, with the object of rendering it impossible for the hostile army to find sustenance. Vineyards, olive-yards, mills, and bake-houses were ruthlessly destroyed, cattle driven away, wine-casks emptied into the gutters, wells filled up, villages and even towns burned to the ground. Thousands of the unhappy peasants perished of starvation, and the fields were strewn with dead bodies. In the meanwhile, Montmorency had seized Avignon, in spite of the protests of the vice-legate who commanded for the Pope in the Venaissin, and had formed an entrenched camp between the Durance and the Rhône; while the King quitted Lyons, where the Court had been residing since the outbreak of war, and established himself at Valence, in order to be near at hand in case of emergency. Here a great sorrow befell him, which might well have been regarded by the devout as a judgment upon him for the calamities to which his restless ambition had condemned his unhappy subjects.

The Dauphin had remained at Lyons, awaiting the orders of the King to rejoin him. This prince, who was now in his twentieth year, had to some degree abandoned the gravity and reserve which had aroused so much surprise on his return from Spain, though he still continued to affect the most sombre colours in his dress and to drink principally water. In his relations with the fair sex he was accused of being far less austere, though, if we are to believe Brantôme — an historian who is not ordinarily inclined to be at all reticent on this delicate subject — rumour has done him some injustice.

"I have heard the ladies of that time say," he writes, "that he was most respectful to them, and treated them with marked deference, as he treated his mistress, about whom was composed this chanson:

'Brunette suis,

Jamais ne seray blanche.'

She was one of the Queen's maids-of-honour, belonging to the family of Maumont; a very good and ancient one of the Upper Limousin, and my first cousin, daughter of my father's sister. She was a very modest and virtuous girl; for the great choose their mistresses as much for their virtues as for other qualities."

But, whatever may have been the extent to which Monsieur le Dauphin shared the paternal susceptibility to feminine charms, he appears to have been an intelligent and level-headed youth, who gave every promise of one day making an excellent king.

The day before that on which it had been arranged that the Dauphin should leave Lyons, he went to play tennis at Ainay. As the weather was intensely hot, the prince soon became very thirsty, and ordered one of his pages to bring him some water from a neighbouring well. The page hurried off, taking with him a Portuguese pitcher, which had been given his master by Doña Agnese Pachecho, dame d'honneur to Queen Eleanor. This pitcher, we are told, was of a peculiar clay, "which was said to possess the virtues of keeping the water cool, and, at the same time, preventing it having any injurious effect, even when imbibed after violent exercise."[08] A rather hazardous assertion in view of what followed.

FRANÇOIS DE VALOIS, DAUPHIN OF FRANCE, ELDEST SON OF FRANÇOIS I

FROM THE DRAWING BY FRANÇOIS CLOUET IN THE MUSÉE CONDÉ, CHANTILLY

Having drawn the water, the page, without waiting to rinse the pitcher, filled it, and returned to the Dauphin, who emptied it almost at a draught, for, though he seldom touched wine, it was his habit to drink immoderate quantities of water. Shortly afterwards, he complained of feeling ill. Four days later (August 10), despite all the efforts of the doctors who attended him, he was dead.

The consternation when the news reached Valence may be imagined. At first, no one dared to inform the King, who, though he was aware that his son was ill, had apparently been given to understand that he was in no danger. At length, after much discussion, it was decided that the Cardinal Jean de Lorraine, the oldest and most intimate of his Majesty's friends, should undertake the painful duty. On entering the royal presence, however, the cardinal, though naturally "fertile and eloquent," was unable to utter a word; but the King, observing his distress, had a presentiment of what had occurred, and inquired anxiously if he came with news of the Dauphin. In a voice broken by emotion, his Eminence replied that the prince was worse, but that they must trust in God and hope for his recovery.

"I understand perfectly," rejoined the King. "You dare not tell me that he is dead, but only that he will soon die."

The Cardinal's emotion and the sobs of those present confirmed the King's fears, and, with a cry of anguish, he walked to the window, turned his back upon his courtiers, and endeavoured to master his grief. His efforts were vain, however, and, with another cry of grief, he turned round, doffed his cap, and, "raising his hands and his thoughts towards Heaven," exclaimed: "My God, I know that I must accept with patience whatever it be Thy will to send me; but from whom, if not from Thee, ought I to hope for strength and resignation? Already hast Thou afflicted me by the diminution of my dominions and the defeat of my army; Thou hast now added this loss of my son. What more remains, save to destroy me utterly? And, if it be Thy pleasure so to do, give me warning at least, and make me know Thy will, in order that I may not rebel against it, Thou, who art all-powerful, succouring and strengthening my natural and human weakness."[09]

It was an age when the death of notable persons was continually being attributed to foul play — not infrequently, it must be admitted, with good reason — and, though modern historians are agreed that the death of the Dauphin was due to an attack of pleurisy occasioned by his imprudence in drinking a copious draught of cold water after taking violent exercise on a summer's day, the physicians who had attended him were unanimously of opinion that he had been poisoned.

Suspicion pointed to a certain Count Sebastiano di Montecuculi, a nobleman of Ferrara, who held the post of sewer in the Household of the unfortunate prince. Montecuculi, it was remembered, had followed the page to the well on the fatal afternoon, as if with the intention of assisting him, and might easily have slipped the poison into the pitcher while the other was engaged in drawing the water.

Unhappily for the supposed culprit, he appears to have been a student of toxicology, as a great many of his countrymen were in those days, generally for very practical reasons, and when he was arrested, "les poisons d'Arsigne et de Reargart"[10] were found at his lodging. He was immediately put to the question, and, in order to curtail his sufferings, confessed that he had poisoned the Dauphin, and added that he had been bribed by the Imperial generals, Antonio de Leyva and Ferdinando di Gonzaga, cousin of the Duke of Mantua, who, he understood, were acting under superior authority, to remove the King himself and his two other sons by the same means.

When, in October, François returned to Lyons, he convened a council, at which assisted the princes of the Blood, the grand officers of the Crown, the cardinals, the ambassadors, and all the German and Italian nobles who happened to be at the Court. "And when they had assembled," says Guillaume du Bellay, "the King caused the proceedings against the miserable man who had poisoned the late Dauphin to be read to them from beginning to end, together with all the interrogatories, confessions, confrontations, and other formalities employed in a criminal trial. After the reading of the said trial was concluded, and all those present, at least, those who were entitled by law to vote in criminal matters, had given their advice on this monstrous and miserable case, the judges proceeded to pass sentence and condemned him to be dismembered by horses."[11]

This barbarous sentence was duly carried out, in the presence of the King and the whole Court, including even the ladies (October 7, 1536).

After the execution, François addressed a circular letter to the German Protestant princes, wherein he acquainted them with all the details of his eldest son's death, and the fate of the supposed criminal, and openly accused the two Imperialist generals of having instigated Montecuculi to the commission of the deed. Leyva had died at Aix on September 14, but Gonzaga indignantly protested against such an accusation, and, complaining that Montecuculi had not been allowed to live until he could have called him to account, expressed his readiness to meet in arms all who dared to impeach his honour. The Cardinal de Granvelle, the Imperial Chancellor, wrote a letter intended to demonstrate the utter absurdity of such reports, and to exculpate not only his master, who was accused by implication, but also Leyva and Gonzaga (December 1536); and the Duke of Mantua sent an Ambassador Extraordinary to the French Court to defend his cousin. One or two members of the Council advocated reprisals, but the majority was opposed to such a course, and eventually the charge was allowed to drop.

It was, indeed, one in which it was impossible to persist, for the only persons to profit by the removal of the unfortunate prince were the Duc d'Orléans and his wife, who now found themselves on the highest step of the throne. This circumstance did not escape the Imperialists, who retorted by accusing Catherine de' Medici of having poisoned her brother-in-law. The charge was utterly preposterous, but Italians bore an unenviable reputation for their skill in ridding themselves of those who stood in their way, and the Medici were not inclined to be very scrupulous as to the means which they employed to smooth the path of their ambition. In consequence, there were not wanting persons, even about the Court, who believed in Catherine's guilt, which occasioned both her and Henri the deepest distress.

Notes

(1) Saulx-Tavannes, Mémoires.

(2) Brantôme, Dames galantes.

(3) Ibid. It may be here observed that there is no truth in the tradition that, overwhelmed by the loss of the royal favour, Madame de Chateaubriand retired to her husband's Château in Brittany, where, after being kept in solitary confinement for several months, in a room draped with black, she was put to death by orders of her injured consort. M. de Chateaubriand had long since accepted the rôle of mari complaisant, and had found it a not unprofitable one; and, so far from hastening to avenge his honour, he lived with his erring wife for more than ten years, and in 1532, when François visited Brittany, he was magnificently entertained by the count and countess. Nor did the fair délaissée's wounded heart cause her to eschew altogether the pleasures of the Court, since in the following year she attended the royal wedding at Marseilles, when we hear of her preferring a petition to Clement VII that she might be permitted to eat meat three times a week during Lent.

(4) René de Brosse had followed the Constable to Italy, and was killed at Pavia, fighting in the ranks of the Imperialists.

(5) Here are some pretty verses which Marot addressed to the favourite, apparently on her return from a long journey, when fatigue had caused her to lose a little of the freshness of her complexion:

"À Madame d'Étampes

Sans préjudice à personne

Je vous donne

La pomme d'or de beauté,

Et de ferme loyauté

La couronne.

Vous reprendrez, je 1'affie,

Sur la vie,

Le tainct qui vous a osté

La déesse de beauté

Par envie."

(6) This was the second time that "le roi chevalier" had declined to adventure his person against that of his rival. "There was," observes Henri Martin, "less of chivalry in François I, and more of passion and romance in Charles V, than is commonly believed."

(7) Having been induced to betray his trust, it is said, by the predictions of an astrologer, who prophesied for Charles universal monarchy.

(8) Brantôme.

(9) Du Bellay, Mémoires.

(10) Extrait des Registres du Grand Conseil, in Cimber and Danjou, Archives curieuses de l'Histoire de France.

(11) Du Bellay, Mémoires.

Chapter IX

Failure of the Emperor's invasion of Provence — The new Dauphin joins Montmorency's camp at Avignon — His letter to the Maréchal d'Humières — Singular character of the Grand-Master — The Dauphin saves a quack doctor from being hanged — Arrival of the King in the camp — Retreat of the Emperor from Provence, with the loss of half his army — Warm attachment conceived by the Dauphin for Montmorency — Operations on the northern frontier — Campaign of Henri and Montmorency in Picardy — Truce of Bomy — Despatch of a fresh army to Piedmont — The Dauphin commands the vanguard with the Grand-Master — Affair of the pass of Susa — Barbarous treatment of the garrison of Avigliana — Armistice of Monçon — Conference at Nice — Conclusion of a ten years' truce — Interview at Aigues-Mortes between François I and the Emperor

IN the meanwhile, the invasion of Provence had terminated even more disastrously for the Imperialists than that of 1524. Charles advanced without encountering any serious opposition as far as Aix, which he occupied; but here his success ended. The country round had been so remorselessly devastated as to be incapable of supporting a single division, much less an entire army; the supplies which Andrea Doria's fleet landed at Toulon were repeatedly intercepted by the starving peasantry; the entrenched camp at Avignon, the towns of Marseilles and Aries, the fords of the Rhone, the passes of Dauphiné — all were reported to be impregnable. So he remained at Aix, hoping against hope that the French would offer him battle in the open field, while his army gradually melted away from famine and disease.

Henri, who, in consequence of the untimely death of his elder brother, now bore the title of Dauphin, while the Duc d'Angoulême soon afterwards assumed that of Duc d'Orléans, had accompanied François to Valence. He was, of course, all anxiety to win his spurs, and entreated his father to allow him to join Montmorency at Avignon, but the King, having just lost one son, was naturally reluctant to risk the life of another, and for some time he firmly refused to entertain his request. The young prince, however, returned again and again to the charge, and at length François yielded, giving him, however, the most stringent orders to defer in all things to the counsels of the Grand-Master. Accompanied by a few of his personal attendants, the Dauphin at once set out for Avignon, where he arrived on September 4, Montmorency coming to meet him as far as the Pont de Sorgue.

Henri was delighted with the reception which was accorded him. "My cousin," wrote he to the Maréchal d'Humières, "the Grand-Master has received me in the camp with the highest honours which it was possible for him to pay, and I promise you that I have found a force so united, so fine, so numerous, and animated by so excellent a spirit, that the King may expect great services from it, in view also of the order and good conduct which prevails amongst it, which does my said cousin [Montmorency] marvellous great honour."[01]

Montmorency certainly deserved credit for the order which he maintained in that heterogeneous army. He had some sixteen thousand Swiss under him, who were not easy people to keep in order, particularly when their pay did not happen to be forthcoming; a large body of landsknechts, who were a good deal worse, and a swarm of "Adventurers," as the French infantry were called, who were the worst of all — "vagabonds, lazy, abandoned, malign, flagitious, steeped in every kind of vice, robbers, murderers, ravishers, blasphemers, deniers of God." And yet such was the dread which the Grand-Master inspired that his lines are said to have resembled a well-governed city rather than a camp composed of soldiers of several nationalities.

Never was there a more terrible martinet. For the slightest symptom of insubordination he ordered death or torture, and sentence once passed on an offender, nothing could induce him to mitigate it. A devout Catholic, he was most punctilious in the discharge of his religious duties. "Never," says Brantôme, "did he fail in his devotions or his prayers, and there was not a morning on which he omitted to say his Paternosters." But he adds that "Beware of the Constable's[02] Paternosters" became a saying in the army, "for, as he muttered them, he used to interject orders in connection with justice, police, or military matters, such as: 'Hang me that man! Tie that fellow up to yonder tree! Run him through with your pikes! Burn that village!' without, however, interrupting his prayers, until he had finished them."[03]

Personally one of the bravest of men and as unsparing of himself as of his soldiers, he was not a great general, for, if he inspired fear, he was powerless to communicate enthusiasm, and, if tenacious and persevering, he could seldom bring himself to take even those legitimate risks without which it is impossible to expect decisive victories.

The French nobles with Montmorency, impatient at being so long restrained behind the ramparts of the camp, hoped that the Dauphin had come to lead them against the Imperialists. But Henri, acting on the instructions which he had received from his father, respected the plans of the Grand-Master and showed no desire to usurp the command, much to the satisfaction of Montmorency, who wrote to their common friend Humières that "the prince was conducting himself so perfectly in accordance with the intention of the King, that the said lord ought to be very content with him."

On one occasion only did he assert his authority. Shortly before his arrival, there had come to the camp a Provencal, named Brusquet, who gave himself out as a doctor, and, by the aid of a learned appearance and a persuasive tongue, obtained a number of clients. But his remedies proved more fatal to the unfortunate soldiers whom he attended than the diseases from which they were suffering, and Montmorency, in great wrath, ordered his arrest, with the intention of having him hanged. The Dauphin, however, who assisted at Brusquet's examination, was much amused by his answers, and, recognising that he was merely a foolish quack, ordered him to be released and attached him to his Household in the quality of a jester, in which he gave so much satisfaction that, after being made valet de garde-robe and, later, valet de chambre, he was finally appointed post-master of Paris.

On September 12, François himself entered the camp, attended by a brilliant suite. He was, of course, received with loud acclamations, though, truth to tell, the troops saw him arrive with something approaching dismay, for, since the catastrophe of Pavia, a superstitious feeling had grown up in the French Army that the King's presence on the field of battle would inevitably entail defeat. If Montmorency did not actually share this superstition, he dreaded its effect upon the spirit of his men, and he had accordingly employed every persuasion to induce his Majesty to remain at Valence. However, François, warned that a forward movement on the part of the Imperialists was expected, in which event an engagement must follow, was determined not to forgo the chance of retrieving his lost laurels. "Foi de gentilhomme!" he exclaimed, in reply to the remonstrances of those about him. "Never shall it be said that while my arch-enemy is at the head of his armies, sword in hand, I am content to remain shut up within the walls of Valence, as though I feared to confront him on my own territories."

The forward movement of the Imperialists was merely a feint by a small body of troops to divert attention from the retreat of the main body, which began ten days after François's arrival in Montmorency's camp. For Charles to have persisted any longer in his unfortunate enterprise would have been to court certain ruin, since nearly half his army were either dead or unfit for service — among the former being his best general, Antonio de Leyva — while it was still further weakened by the necessity of detaching large parties of cavalry to scour the country far and wide in quest of supplies. He had also received intelligence of a rising of the French party in Liguria, who had made an attempt upon Genoa, and were threatening his communications. In his retreat he was persistently harassed by the French light cavalry and the infuriated peasants,[04] and the roads between Aix and Fréjus were strewn with arms and baggage and the dead bodies of men and horses. On September 23 he repassed the Var with the wreck of his army, and made his way to Genoa, whence, escorted by Andrea Doria's fleet, he embarked for Barcelona, in order, according to a bon-mot of the time, "to inter in Spain his honour, which had died in Provence."

François and Montmorency have been blamed by several historians for not having followed the retreating Imperialists with all their forces and destroyed them. But, as Martin du Bellay, who was himself serving in this campaign, has shown, the French troops in Picardy were urgently in need of reinforcements, and they believed it necessary to despatch the greater part of the army to the relief of Péronne, which was being closely besieged by Henri de Nassau. Before the succour from Provence arrived, however, the Duc de Guise had succeeded in throwing reinforcements and a large supply of ammunition into the place, upon which Nassau raised the siege and retreated across the frontier; and the year's fighting thus terminated with distinct advantage to the French, who still held Turin, Pinerolo, and several other places in Savoy and Piedmont, had repulsed two invasions, and had inflicted a severe blow on the prestige of the Emperor.

To many the devastation of the fairest province of the realm and the terrible suffering which it entailed may seem a heavy price to pay for the expulsion of the Imperialists, but the captains and the chroniclers of the time consider that circumstances justified the measures adopted, and that they saved France from a still worse fate; and their opinion seems to be shared by most of the historians who have followed them. "Montmorency," says Ranke, "displayed all the sagacity and circumspection which can make defensive warfare successful."[05]

The Grand-Master, indeed, had gained by the success of his Fabian tactics a reputation which made him for the next five years the virtual ruler of France. He had also gained that which was to assure his ascendency at a more distant date, namely, the personal friendship of the heir to the throne, who looked upon himself as his pupil and had conceived for him a warm and lasting attachment. "You may be sure," wrote Henri to him, a little later, "that, whatever may happen, I am and shall be all my life as much your friend as any man in the world."[06]

Hostilities were resumed in the early spring of 1537, when François and Montmorency invaded Artois and captured Hesdin, Saint-Pol, and Saint-Venant. Satisfied with these successes, the King disbanded a part of the army, sent some troops into Piedmont, and, leaving only a small force to occupy the conquered towns, returned to Paris to enjoy the society of Madame d'Étampes, a longer separation from whom he was apparently unable to support. No sooner had he departed, than a large army which the Comte de Buren, lieutenant-general of the Emperor in the Low Countries, had assembled at Lens marched upon Saint-Pol and carried it by assault, putting the garrison to the sword, after which it laid siege to Thérouenne.

To repair the deplorable error which he had committed, François recalled part of the troops who were on their way to Piedmont, and in the middle of June despatched Montmorency and the Dauphin with some 20,000 men to the Flemish frontier.

The position of Thérouenne was a critical one. In 1513, the castle had been razed to the ground by Henry VIII, with the exception of two towers, which were speedily demolished by the artillery of the besiegers. The garrison made a brave defence behind the shelter of an entrenchment which they had themselves constructed, but they were short of powder and arquebusiers. Informed of their situation, the Grand-Master ordered Annebaut to proceed to Thérouenne with 400 arquebusiers, each carrying a sack of powder, and an escort of men-at-arms and light horse, and endeavour to make his way into the place, under cover of night. This difficult operation he successfully accomplished (June 25), but, on his return, he was surprised by an overwhelming force of Imperialist cavalry, and, after a sharp skirmish, obliged to surrender.

However, Thérouenne was no longer in any immediate danger, and the Dauphin and the Grand-Master were able to turn their attention to the citadel of Desvres, which they speedily reduced, thus securing the safety of Boulogne. They then marched up the Authie to Doullens, where they were joined by Guise with a large force of cavalry. Up to now the cautious Montmorency, who felt himself responsible for the safety of his royal colleague, had not deemed it prudent to offer the enemy battle; but the arrival of Guise gave him the advantage in numbers, and, yielding to the entreaties of the young prince, he moved northwards, with the intention of relieving Thérouenne.

The King, who was at Meudon with Madame d'Étampes, on being informed that an engagement might shortly be expected, announced his intention of rejoining the army and leading it to victory; but the duchess would not suffer him to leave her side, though she offered no opposition to her husband's departure for the frontier. Montmorency doubtless felicitated himself on his Majesty's decision to forgo the chance of glory and leave him a free hand, for the Dauphin was a docile colleague, who invariably deferred to his advice, and was, if we are to believe the Grand-Master, extremely popular with the troops. "His presence," he writes, "gives great pleasure to this army, and, on the other hand, he conducts himself so prudently and so much to every one's satisfaction that, apart from the pleasure which it must give the King to hear of it, the troops are only too eager to do well, so that, if it please God, he will come forth victorious, and with great honour and reputation, in accordance with the desire of all his loyal servants and to the confusion of his enemies."[07]

However, greatly to the disappointment of the Dauphin, on the very eve of the expected engagement, an envoy from the Queen-Dowager of Hungary, Governess of the Netherlands, arrived in the French camp and informed him that the Emperor had proposed a truce, so far as regarded Picardy and Flanders, to which François had consented, and that she was empowered to settle the terms with his Highness. Both sides accordingly appointed commissioners, who met at Bomy, a little town to the south of Thérouenne, and on July 30 an armistice for ten months was concluded.

The urgent advice of Mary of Austria, who had represented that the Netherland provinces could and would fight no more — the town of Ghent had refused to contribute the subsidy demanded for the expenses of the war, and a year later was in full revolt — had induced Charles to propose this suspension of hostilities. François, on his side, had been only too ready to agree, for, owing to the quarrels of his generals and a mutiny of German and Italian mercenaries, the Imperialists had again got the upper hand in Piedmont, and, having reduced most of the places recovered by the French after the retreat of Charles from Provence, were investing Turin.

The armistice concluded, preparations were at once made for the despatch of a new army across the Alps, and François decided to accompany it. Having but a poor opinion of the Queen's capacity, he did not, as in 1525, appoint a regent of the kingdom, but nominated two lieutenant-generals, his younger son Charles, Duc d'Orléans, for the North, and his brother-in-law, the King of Navarre, for the South. By the beginning of October, a powerful force had assembled at Lyons, which comprised 10,000 "Adventurers," of whom one-fourth were arquebusiers, 12,000 landsknechts, under their famous recruiting-sergeant Wilhelm von Fürstenberg, 4,000 Swiss, a small body of Italian infantry, 1,400 men-at-arms, several companies of light cavalry, and 50 cannon. To the Dauphin was entrusted the command of the vanguard, Montmorency being associated with him as chief of the staff, with the understanding that the prince was to give no orders without first consulting the Grand-Master.

On the 8th, they took leave of the King, who was to follow with the main body of the army, and proceeded to Grenoble, and thence to Briançon, where they halted to reconnoitre the passes of the Alps. As the garrison of Turin was reported to be in desperate straits from want of food, Montmorency advised that an attempt should be made to force the pass of Susa, which effected, they would only have to descend the valley of the Dora to arrive at Turin; and on the 25th the Dauphin wrote to announce this bold decision to the King, who was now at Grenoble.

The Marquis del Guasto, a nephew of Pescara, who commanded for the Emperor in Piedmont, had detached Cesare da Napoli, one of the best captains of mercenaries in the Imperial service, with a force which is variously estimated at from 5,000 to 10,000 men, to dispute the advance of the French; and Montmorency, on reconnoitring the pass, found him very strongly posted in a narrow part of the defile between Chaumont and Susa, his front protected by an entrenchment with a bastion at each extremity, and precipitous heights on either hand.

At the first glance, the position seemed altogether impregnable; but one of the officers who had accompanied the Grand-Master pointed out that Cesare had neglected to occupy the heights which commanded his position, deeming them no doubt inaccessible, and that their Basque arquebusiers would be able to ascend them.

Leaving the Dauphin at Oulx with the bulk of his force,[08] at dawn on October 26 Montmorency, at the head of 100 light horse and 6,000 infantry, 1,200 of whom were arquebusiers, advanced to the assault. The arquebusiers clambered like goats up the rocks and poured down a hail of balls upon the enemy, while the Grand-Master charged the entrenchments. The astonished Imperialists, attacked in front and exposed on both flanks to a murderous fire, gave way and were soon in full retreat, pursued for some distance by the victors, whose lack of cavalry, however, prevented them from inflicting much loss upon the enemy. Nevertheless, it was a brilliant piece of work, and showed that, when occasion demanded, Montmorency knew how to employ boldness as well as caution; and the King, as soon as he learned the news, sent orders to France for public thanksgivings throughout the country.

Having detached a small force to besiege the castle of Susa, Montmorency and the Dauphin advanced along the right bank of the Dora, until they found their way barred by the fortress of Avigliana. The place was only garrisoned by some forty men, but the fortifications were of considerable strength, and the Imperialists refused to surrender. However, after being bombarded for a day and a half, it was taken by storm and the whole of the brave little garrison put to the sword, with the exception of the commandant and three others, who were hanged from the ramparts, "in order," wrote Montmorency, "to teach a lesson to those who are obstinate enough to defend places of so little importance."[09]

Having waited to allow the Swiss to come up, they again pressed on, forcing Guasto to raise the siege of Turin and fall back across the Po. The Dauphin and his colleague pursued him, but, on reaching the western bank of the river, opposite Moncalieri, they found the enemy drawn up to dispute their passage. For a whole day the armies remained facing one another in line of battle, the French up to their knees in water. Then reinforcements reached the invaders, and the Imperialists retreated beneath the walls of Asti, leaving the French to reduce all the places between the Po and the Tanaro.

In the meanwhile, François with the rest of the army had crossed the mountains, and everything promised a vigorous prosecution of the war, when negotiations again took the place of hostilities. Paul III, eager to unite Christendom against the Turk, who had just inflicted a crushing defeat upon Ferdinand of Austria at Essek, on the Drave, pressed his mediation upon the combatants, and on November 16, 1537, an armistice for three months was signed at Monçon, corresponding with that of Bomy for the Netherlands. The armistice was followed by a conference at Nice. The Pope journeyed thither, and the two rivals, though their antipathy prevented them meeting, visited him separately and laid their respective cases before him; while Queen Eleanor went to and fro between her husband and her brother, in the hope of bringing about the desired reconciliation.

To draft a treaty of peace was found impossible, for Charles refused to surrender Milan, while François was determined not to evacuate Savoy and Piedmont; but a ten years' truce was eventually concluded (June 17, 1538), each preserving what he occupied at the moment of its signature.

Thus France retained Savoy and two-thirds of Piedmont, the remaining Piedmontese towns being left in the occupation of the Imperialists; and the luckless Duke of Savoy saw himself deprived for ten years of the whole of his dominions, with the exception of the town of Nice, in the castle of which he had taken refuge. For the first time since the campaign of Marignano, a war had ended to the advantage of François, who, with the Alpine passes and the strongest fortresses of Piedmont in his hands, found himself in a singularly favourable position for prosecuting his designs on the Milanese.

Nevertheless, in the opinion of many historians, the King committed a grave error in concluding peace at a moment when his rival, threatened by the Turks, hampered by the German Protestants, unpopular in Northern Italy, where his soldiers lived on rapine and plunder, and unable to count on any effective support from the Netherland provinces, was in a most critical position. But the reproaches of the Pope on his sacrilegious alliance with Soliman filled him with remorse, and, after having borne all the odium of the Turkish alliance, he abandoned it just when he might have derived from it substantial advantages.

There can be no doubt that Montmorency's influence counted for much in this decision. One of the most bigoted of Catholics, the Grand-Master's conscience revolted against alliances with infidels and heretics, and, though he did his duty against the Imperialists in the field, he was always a consistent advocate of peace with the Emperor, in so much that his enemies did not hesitate to accuse him of preferring the interests of Rome to those of France.

To the same influence may be traced the ostentatious reconciliation between the two rivals, which, to the profound astonishment of Europe, took place at Aigues-Mortes, a month later. It was commonly reported that Charles's galley had been compelled to take refuge in that harbour by stress of weather, but it seems more probable that the meeting was a prearranged one. Any way, before the Emperor quitted the shores of France, the King, lured on by the bait of the Milanese, had promised to abandon the German Protestants, to give no encouragement to the Ghent burghers, and to aid Charles in his struggle against the Infidel and his efforts for Catholic unity. It was the beginning of an entirely new policy, which was to cost France dear.

Notes

(1) Decrue, Anne de Montmorency à la cour de François I.

(2) Montmorency was appointed Constable in 1539.

(3) Grandes capitaines françaises.

(4) Guillaume du Bellay relates a singular incident which occurred during the retreat. A number of peasants, maddened by starvation, resolved to sacrifice their own lives in order to take vengeance upon the man who had brought ruin upon their humble homes. Armed with arquebuses, they concealed themselves in a tower near the village of Mui, between Draguignan and Fréjus, and awaited the approach of the Emperor. Presently, a gentleman came riding by, who, from the magnificence of his accoutrements and the deference paid him by those about him, they decided must certainly be his Majesty. Thereupon they all fired together, and the unfortunate cavalier fell from his horse, mortally wounded. Their victim was, of course, not Charles, who, in point of fact, was generally very plainly attired, but the celebrated Spanish poet Garcilaso de la Vega, who was serving in the army as a volunteer, and who thus paid dearly for his weakness for ostentation. The tower was immediately stormed, by orders of the Emperor, and its occupants taken and hanged.

(5) "History of Germany," iv.

(6) Decrue, Anne de Montmorency à la cour de François I.

(7) Decrue.

(8) The Dauphin was unable to take part in the engagement, as he had accidentally wounded himself in the thigh with a poniard a few days before and had to be carried in a litter.

(9) Letter to the Duc d'Orléans, November 12, 1537, in Decrue. The Marquis del Guasto protested indignantly against this shameful violation of the laws of civilised warfare, but François gave it his cordial approval. "I am pleased to hear of what has been done," he wrote to Montmorency, "as I am quite of your opinion that, after the lesson which has been given them, the enemy will no longer be inclined to show so much obstinacy in the defence of little places."

Chapter X

Diane de Poitiers — Her childhood — Her marriage with Louis de Brézé, Grand Sénéchal of Normandy — Arrest of her father, M. de Saint-Vallier, for complicity in the conspiracy of the Connétable de Bourbon — He is condemned to death, but his sentence is commuted when actually on the scaffold — Accusation of the Huguenot historian, Regnier de la Planche, that Diane redeemed her father's life by the sacrifice of her honour to François I — Anecdote of Brantôme — Opinions of various historians on this point — Conclusions of Georges Guiffrey — Assertion of Lorenzo Contarini, Venetian Ambassador to the French Court, that Diane became François's mistress at a later period — Arguments of Ludovic Lalanne as to the authorship of a packet of love-letters addressed to the King —  Opinions of Champollion, Sainte-Beuve, and Guiffrey — Question of the relations between Diane and the poet Clément Marot considered — Extraordinary respect shown by the Grande Sénéchale for the memory of her husband — Date of the beginning of her liaison with the Dauphin — Verses of Clément Marot — Methods adopted by the lady in the subjugation of the young prince — Politic attitude of Catherine de' Medici towards her husband's inamorata — Antagonism of Madame d'Étampes to Diane — Vouté's epigrams against the Sénéchale — The enmity between the two ladies divides the Court into rival factions

THE year 1536 was a very eventful one in the life of Henri de Valois, for not only did he become, by the death of his elder brother, heir to the throne of France and receive his first lessons in the art of war, but it was now that he fell under the influence of the woman who was to mould him into what he subsequently became, and to exercise over his heart and mind an ascendency which was to endure until the day of his death.[01]

Diane de Poitiers, whose remarkable astuteness and strength of will, far more than the charms of her person, which, in point of fact, tradition has a good deal exaggerated, were to make her for twelve years the uncrowned Queen of France, was the eldest of the three daughters of Jean de Poitiers, Sieur de Saint-Vallier, who traced his descent from Guillaume de Poitiers, last Duke of Aquitaine, and was born, according to the calculation of Dreux du Radier,[02] on September 3, 1499, probably at the Château of Saint-Vallier, since it was here that she is known to have passed her childhood. She appears to have received a better education than most young girls of that period, while, as we are told that she went hunting and hawking with her father at the age of six, her physical training was evidently not neglected. She also acquired something which was to prove of infinite service to her in her career as a Court beauty, namely, habits of personal cleanliness, but too unusual in the early part of the sixteenth century; and there can be little doubt that it was to the regular use of cold water, and not, as certain of her contemporaries affirmed, to the possession of some wonderful elixir, that she was indebted for the preservation of her naturally brilliant complexion long after the bloom of other ladies of her age had become merely a memory.

After serving for a short time as fille d'honneur to Marguerite d'Angoulême, Diane married, on March 29, 1514, Louis de Brézé, Comte de Maulevrier, Grand Sénéchal of Normandy, son of that Jacques de Brézé whose name recalls one of the most tragic episodes of the reign of Louis XI. Married, somewhat against his will, to Charlotte de France, natural daughter of Charles VII and Agnes Sorel, he had by her six children, but having, on the night of May 13-14, 1476, surprised her in flagrante delicto with her lover, Louis de la Vergne, he poniarded them both on the spot. For this crime he was condemned to death, and only escaped the block by the surrender of all his property, which, however, was restored to him after the King's death.

A middle-aged widower who bore the reputation of being one of the ugliest men of his time was scarcely the kind of husband to appeal to a girl of fifteen, but he was wealthy, high in favour with the King, generous, and even-tempered, and Diane, who was a sensible young lady, would appear to have been well content with her lot. With the exception of the birth of two daughters, her married life was uneventful until 1523, the time of the conspiracy of the Connétable de Bourbon. The Constable succeeded in making his escape to Italy, but the majority of his accomplices were not so fortunate, and Diane learned to her dismay that among those who had been apprehended was her father, M. de Saint-Vallier, concerning whose treasonable dealings she had, of course, been in entire ignorance.

Saint-Vallier had been arrested at Lyons, on the evening of September 5, and conducted to the Château of Loches, whence he hastened to acquaint his daughter and son-in-law with the calamity which had befallen him. "Monsieur mon fils," he writes to Louis de Brézé, "the King has ordered me to be arrested without any reason . . . and has caused me to be conveyed to the Château of Loches, as a false traitor, which occasions me such horrible grief that I am dying of it." And to Diane: "Madame la Grande Sénéchale, I have arrived at the Château of Loches, as badly treated as poor prisoner could be. . . . I beg you to have sufficient pity upon your poor father as to be willing to come to see him."[03]

From which it will be gathered that the Sieur de Saint- Vallier was very far from being of the stuff whereof heroes are made.

The misguided old gentleman was kept in a darksome dungeon at Loches until the beginning of the following year, when he was brought to Paris for trial, and on January 17, 1524, found guilty of high treason and condemned to death. A month later, he stood, more dead than alive, upon the scaffold on the Place de Grève, and his head was on the point of parting company from his body, when an archer of the King's Guard arrived, bringing an order from his Majesty which commuted the capital sentence to "perpetual imprisonment between four stone walls, with only a small window, through which his food and drink will be administered to him."

How long M. de Saint-Vallier remained in this extremely unpleasant situation is uncertain. Any way, he was at large again in 1532, for in that year we learn that he took unto himself a third wife, who, we may presume, was careful to see that his energies were employed in some less dangerous occupation than politics.

By whose influence and at what price was the condemned conspirator's very modified pardon obtained? This is a question upon which the imagination of historians has been freely exercised, at the expense of the future mistress of Henri II and of that monarch's predecessor on the throne.

"She [Diane]," says Brantôme, "was above all things a very good Catholic and hated bitterly those of the Religion, which is the reason why they have very much hated and slandered her."[04] Diane, indeed, showed herself pitiless towards the Protestants, and they, in their turn, were pitiless towards her, after her empire was at an end. Not only did they reproach her with the shame and scandal of her recent influence, and declare her to have been a blight upon the land, but, to avenge more fully the persecutions which she had inspired, they accused her of having led a life of infamy even in her youth.

In 1576, the Huguenot historian Regnier de la Planche, a man of undoubted integrity, but implacable in his hatred, published his Histoire de l'Estat de France, tant de la république tant de la religion, sous François II, in which, after describing in lurid terms the baneful results of her ascendency, he added:

"In her youth, Diane redeemed by her virginity the life of the Sieur de Saint-Vallier, her father."

"It was to strike with the same arrow three persons at once," observes Niel, "it was to chain to the same pillory, by the fetters of debauchery, adultery, and incest, the father, the son, and the favourite."[05]

The accusation was subsequently repeated by Brantôme in his Discours sur les dames qui font l'amour, etc.:

"I have heard people speak of a great nobleman also, who, having been condemned to lose his head, was already on the scaffold, when his pardon arrived, which his daughter, who was one of the most beautiful, had obtained. And, on descending from the scaffold, the only remark that he made was: 'Dieu sauve le bon c . . . de ma fille, qui m'a si bien sauvé!'"

It is true that Brantôme writes in this instance from hearsay and without naming the persons concerned, so that his narrative only proves that such a rumour was in circulation. But what was merely a malicious anecdote was eagerly seized upon by writers with a weakness for the picturesque, and, transmitted from generation to generation, it at length came to be regarded almost as history.[06]

Several authorities on the Valois period, however, such as Gaillard and Dreux du Radier, in the eighteenth century, and Niel and Lescure (les Maîtresses de François I), in later times, have represented the extreme improbability of such a story; and its falsity has, in our opinion, been finally established by M. Georges Guiffrey, in his able and scholarly introduction to les Lettres inédites de Dianne de Poytiers.

The writer shows that neither in the official documents connected with the Saint-Vallier affair, nor in the testimony of contemporary historians of repute, is any argument to be found in support of this accusation. The lettres de rémission signed by the King state that it was at the entreaty of the Grand Sénéchal of Normandy and other friends of Saint-Vallier that the latter's sentence had been commuted,[07] while Belleforest and Le Ferron assert that Queen Claude, to whom, in her official capacity as dame d'honneur, Diane enjoyed constant access, joined her entreaties to those of Louis de Brézé and his wife.

He further points out that the King had the strongest possible reason for showing mercy to Saint-Vallier, since it was Louis de Brézé, who had given the Government the first warning of the conspiracy of Bourbon. The great service rendered by his son-in-law is surely a sufficient explanation of the royal clemency towards the condemned, without having recourse to other motives![08]

Again, debauched as François was, it is difficult to believe that a king who had been knighted by Bayard, and who prided himself on being "le Premier Gentilhomme de France," could ever have stooped so low as to make an infamous bargain with a daughter for her father's life. "His chivalrous spirit, his traditional generosity," observes M. Guiffrey, "vie with with each other in repudiating such an imputation."

Finally, there is a circumstance which scandal-loving historians have not taken sufficiently into account. Louis de Brézé appears to have been an honourable man, and not at all the kind of person to accommodate himself to the rôle of complaisant husband, or to maintain silence concerning an affair which so nearly affected his honour. If he in the least resembled his passionate sire, his wife's infidelity would certainly have been followed by a terrible scandal, if not by something worse, and, in view of the tragedy of fifty years earlier, we should have need of positive proofs to establish his conjugal abnegation. Such, very briefly summarised, are the conclusions of M. Guiffrey, which may be considered to dispose once and for all of a calumny which had held its ground for three centuries.

But we are not yet quit of this tradition of gallantries, according to which the father preceded the son in the favours of Diane. There is another version of the supposed liaison between François I and Madame la Grande Sénéchale, which places it in the early years of the lady's widowhood, that is to say, some time between September 1531, when she lost her husband, and the end of 1536, when she became the mistress of the future Henri II.

In 1552, Lorenzo Contarini, the Venetian Ambassador to the Court of France, sent to the Senate an interesting account of Diane, in which the following passage occurred:

"Having been left a widow, young and beautiful, she was loved and tasted by the King François and by others also, according to what every one says. Then she passed into the hands of the present King, when he was only Dauphin."[09]

Now the diplomatists of the Queen of the Adriatic enjoy a deservedly high reputation as indefatigable collectors of Court gossip, which their official functions gave them unique opportunities of obtaining. Nothing in the remotest degree connected with the sovereigns to whom they were accredited seems to have been too trivial for their flowing pens to record, until one is almost tempted to believe that some of their despatches were composed as much for the diversion of the Senate as for its political enlightenment. As they wrote without prejudice, their assertions are not to be lightly disregarded, and that it was the opinion of many persons at the French Court that tender relations had at one time existed between the reigning favourite and the late King is therefore certain. But were there any real grounds for such a belief? If there were, it is certainly very singular not only that the despatches of Venieri, Marino, Giustiniani, and Bassadonna, the Venetian Ambassadors in France between 1531 and 1537 — the period during which the supposed liaison must have been in progress — contain no mention of any such affair, but that the chroniclers of the time are also silent about it.

M. Guiffrey is, however, wrong in affirming that there is absolutely no confirmation by contemporary writers of Contarini's allegation. A curious work, entitled le Fort inexpugnable de l'honneur du sexe feminin, by François de Billon, published in 1555, contains the following passage:

"A king could not be more effectually persuaded to show clemency than by the sweet and opportune intervention of a wise princess or of some other lady . . . a thing which might easily be proved by several examples in every Court; and particularly in that of France, where the noble and very prudent Duchesse de Valentinois[10] has clearly given evidence of this in the case of two kings, . . . with whom she had enjoyed so much honour and favour, that not only has she several times saved life by means of her grace and sweetness, but has also several times caused great benefits to be accorded."

After all, such testimony proves nothing more than that a rumour was current during the reign of Henri II that his father had preceded him in the favour of Diane, as well as upon the throne. But in 1854 a learned French archivist, Ludovic Lalanne, announced that he had discovered unmistakable evidence of the amours of Diane and François, in a packet of seventeen letters of a very tender nature addressed to that gallant monarch by an anonymous mistress, and preserved in the Bibliothèque Impériale.[11] These epistles had already been published by Aimé Champollion, in his Poésies de François Ier et de Louise de Savoie, which appeared in 1847; but neither that writer nor Sainte-Beuve, who had carefully examined the letters before reviewing Champollion's book in the Journal des Savants, considered that there was sufficient evidence to attribute their authorship to Diane, although a note by an unknown hand in the margin of one of them stated that she was the writer. Lalanne, however, had no doubts at all about the matter, basing his conclusion chiefly on the similarity between the handwriting of François's unknown correspondent and that of the letters of the Grand Sénéchale with which he had compared them; and both Michelet and Haureau, who had already discovered the germ of the supposed liaison in the Saint-Vallier affair, were of the same opinion.

Twelve years after Lalanne wrote, Guiffrey published his Lettres inédites de Dianne de Poytiers, in which he pointed out that not only the handwriting of the fair inconnue, but the style and the orthography also, bore a much closer resemblance to those of Madame de Chateaubriand than to Diane's, and that one of them, moreover, contained a passage in which there is an allusion to the father-in-law of the writer, who is spoken of as if he were still alive.[12] Well, the father of Louis de Brézé died in 1494, five years before Diane was born, so that the letters could not possibly have been written by her. Madame de Chateaubriand's father-in-law, on the other hand, however, lived until 1530.

Quite apart, however, from the lack of evidence to support Contarini's allegation, there is a very excellent reason for believing it to be merely an idle rumour, or a deliberate calumny manufactured by the enemies of the favourite.

At the date of the supposed liaison, Madame d'Étampes was in possession of the royal heart, and, from what we are told of this lady, we may be very sure that she would not have failed to resent in the most vigorous fashion any encroachment upon her privileges. On the other hand, Diane was a woman who would not have condescended to accept a secondary position or rest content with secret favours. From the clashing of these two ambitious natures some scandal would have been bound to result, which would have been recorded in the memoirs and correspondence of the time, whereas we hear nothing of any open rivalry between them until after the Grande Sénéchale became the Dauphin's mistress.

DIANE DE POITIERS DUCHESS DE VALENTINOIS

FROM THE PAINTING IN ENAMEL BY LÉONARD LIMOSIN IN THE MUSÉE CONDÉ, CHANTILLY

Diane, then, may fairly be acquitted of any tender relations with François I. But Contarini, it will be remembered, accuses her of having had other lovers; "she was loved and tasted," he writes, "by the King François I and by others also."

No confirmation of this charge is to be found in the writings of her contemporaries, nor, indeed, until more than a century and a half after her death, when the Abbé Lenglet-Dufresnoy published his edition of the works of Clément Marot.[13] This personage, we may observe, who, before becoming a man of letters, had been successively a diplomatist and a government spy, was a writer of really remarkable erudition and of great independence — he probably holds the record for sojourns in the Bastille, having been sent there on at least ten occasions — but he was very little scrupulous as to the use he made of the knowledge which he garnered, and "fell into gross errors, which certain critics attribute to interested bad faith rather than to ignorance."[14] In the preface and notes to the work in question, he exhausts himself in subtle arguments to prove that romantic relations had existed between Diane and Marot. If we are to believe him, the affair took place between 1523 and 1525, and it was the lady who made the first advances. The poet was far from insensible to the Sénéchale's charms, but, "instead of coming to the point which she regarded as the most essential, the only decisive, one in love," was so maladroit as to confine his responses to vain elegies and useless madrigals. Diane, angered by his timidity, which she mistook for indifference, changed from love to hatred, and denounced the unfortunate Gascon to the Sorbonne "for having eaten bacon in Lent," with the result that he was promptly arrested and imprisoned in the Châtelet. And the proofs of his story Dufresnoy claims to have found in five epigrams, which in most of the early editions of Marot's poems bear the title of les Amours de Diane, in the reproaches addressed by the poet to an unfaithful mistress, whom he calls Isabeau, and in the rancour which he displays against a mysterious personage named Luna, who appears to have been his evil genius.

Well, these so-called proofs are no proofs at all. Marot was certainly arrested and imprisoned in February 1526, but on a more serious charge than that of having contravened the dietary laws of the Church; and the Sorbonne had been keeping a watchful eye on him for some time past. As for the Diane of the epigrams, there is no reason to identify her with the Grande Sénéchale, for Diane was a common name enough; and, even supposing that they are identical, was it not the bounden duty of a Court poet to profess himself in love with all the high-born beauties about him, or might they not have been written at the order of the Dauphin to express the feelings to which he was himself unable to give poetic utterance, just as, in later times, Henri IV employed Malherbe to address verses to his inamoratas? There is still less reason for believing that by the perfidious Isabeau he intended to indicate Diane — while Dreux du Radier is of opinion that Luna is not a woman at all, but the Sorbonne. In short, Dufresnoy's ingenious conjectures will no more stand the test of examination than the calumny of Regnier de la Planche, the anecdote of Brantôme, or the gossip of Contarini.[15]

There is, indeed, no proof of any kind that Diane's conduct during her husband's lifetime, and for the first five years of her widowhood, was not entirely beyond reproach. That she was a faithful wife scarcely admits of a doubt. Notwithstanding the disparity in age, she appears to have been sincerely attached to Louis de Brézé. When he died in July 1531, she erected a magnificent tomb to his memory in Rouen Cathedral, with an epitaph which breathes undying affection;[16] in August 1534, she arranged for the payment of an annual sum to the Chapter, in consideration of a high and low Mass being said every day for the repose of her husband's soul; in 1541 — several years after she had become the mistress of the future Henri II — we read of her writing to the clergy to remind them of their obligation; in 1558, she had a memorial service celebrated for him; and, at a date which is uncertain, but which was undoubtedly during the period of her favour, she had a marble plaque placed on the facade of the Château of Anet, "which attests," observes Niel, "a more durable regret than widows, even the most inconsolable, are accustomed to display":

"Bresæo hæc statuit pergrata Diana marito

Ut diuturna sui sint monumenta viri."

Finally, she wore mourning for the rest of her life, and black and white became her colours.

But, if during the first five years of her widowhood the Grande Sénéchale continued the irreproachable conduct which had marked her married life, we are inclined to believe that, greedy as she subsequently showed herself for both money and power, she would have been willing enough to accept the exalted post of maîtresse en titre to François I, had it been offered her. But it happened to be already filled, and its occupant, Madame d'Étampes, had secured so firm a hold upon his Majesty's affections, that to attempt to supplant her would have been to court failure and humiliation. If, therefore, the conquest of the King was ever contemplated by Diane, the project must have been soon abandoned for one which presented a less remote chance of success.

The beginning of the long liaison between Diane and the Dauphin, as we have already said, almost certainly dates from the last months of 1536, when the prince was seventeen and the lady thirty-seven. Some historians are disposed to place it a year or two earlier, but to this there is a very serious objection. Up to the late summer of 1536 Henri was only second in the line of succession, and, as there was every probability that the then Dauphin would soon marry and have children, his position and prospects were scarcely such as to appeal to so haughty and ambitious a lady as the Grande Sénéchale. But when, in August of that year, his elder brother died and he became heir to the throne, the situation was altogether different, and it did not take Diane long to decide that he had now become an object worthy of her attention. It was true that François was only forty-two, and that, in the ordinary course of Nature, many years must elapse ere she could realize more than a very small part of her ambitions; but she knew, or at least suspected, that the King's health was already undermined by the excesses of his youth, and that it might not be so very long before the sceptre passed to another. And, in the meantime, if her position as the Dauphin's mistress would bring her few of the material advantages which Madame d'Étampes enjoyed, it would, at any rate, assure her a consideration which would be very gratifying to her vanity. For which reasons, she dressed her batteries and brought them to bear upon the young prince.

It is related, and the anecdote has been accepted by such authorities as Niel and Bouchot, that, annoyed at the melancholy humour and uncouth manners of his heir, François had, so to speak, thrown the lady into the Dauphin's arms, with instructions to polish him a little. "They say," writes Le Laboureur, "that, one day after the death of the Dauphin François, the King having expressed to her [Diane] his displeasure at the little animation which he saw in this Prince Henri, she told him that he must be made to fall in love, and that she would make him her gallant."[17]

If this anecdote be true, it confirms the supposition that the affair could not have begun until Henri had become heir to the throne; and some verses of Clément Marot seem to establish the fact that the date was the last months of 1536. On New Year's Day, 1537, Marot, according to his custom, presented poetic étrennes to a number of the Court ladies, the only kind of coin of which he was never short. Diane's, which was not without a spice of malice, though, at the same time, it constitutes an additional testimony to the lady's previous good conduct, was as follows:

"Que voulez-vous, Diane bonne,

Que vous donne?[18]

Vous n'eustes, comme j'entends,

Jamais tant d'heur au printems

Qu'en automne."

The conquest of the Dauphin once resolved upon, Diane pursued it with inflexible determination and with marvellous adroitness. To assure a greater and more durable ascendency, she was in no hurry to complete his subjugation, but posed before every one as the mentor of youth and inexperience, the guide of the future King of France towards noble thoughts and generous actions; encouraging the taciturn, reserved lad to converse freely with her — a thing which it is doubtful if he had ever done before with any human being — to express opinions to which he had never yet dared to give utterance, to open his mind to her and make her the confidante of his hopes and fears.

Henri was completely fascinated. His had been a dreary, almost friendless, existence. He had lost his mother when he was a child; he was perhaps the least loved of all François's children; he disliked his younger brother, who presumed on the King's indulgence to give himself intolerable airs, and he did not understand his wife, for which we can scarcely blame him. Craving companionship and sympathy, it is not surprising that he should have abandoned himself unreservedly to the counsels of the new Egeria.

For a time, the Court appears to have been altogether deceived as to the lady's intentions, and so shrewd an observer as the Venetian Ambassador, Marino Cavalli, wrote that many persons believed that her affection for her royal pupil was "like that of a mother for a son." But the situation was full of perils for the Dauphin. If Diane was no longer young, she was still eminently seductive: tall and splendidly proportioned, with jet black hair, fine eyes, regular features, and a dazzling complexion; and, to the senses of very young men, the charms of maturity often appeal far more strongly than the grace and freshness of youth. And, while awakening Henri's intellectual powers, she had not failed to awaken his dormant passions as well, for "she knew what Catherine was absolutely ignorant of, and she had studied her prince with the pitiless penetration of an anatomist."[19] Soon he was completely in her toils, and his initiation into the mysteries of love was proceeding simultaneously with his instruction in courtly manners and the duties of his exalted position.

The results of the gallant side of this education were not slow in revealing themselves. During the campaign in Piedmont, in the autumn of 1537, the Dauphin met a young Italian girl, who is supposed to have been of humble condition, and whom historians call Filippa Duc, and laid siege to her heart so effectively that in the following year she gave birth to a daughter, of whom we shall have something to say hereafter.

This infidelity, which seems to have been a mere passade, does not appear to have aroused any resentment in the Grande Sénéchale, and when, some years later, the little girl, who had been named after her, was brought to the French Court, she herself superintended her education.[20]

And what of the Dauphine? How did she regard the subjugation of her husband by this mature siren?

Henri's infidelity wounded his young wife to the quick. Not that she entertained for him any great affection, her temperament, indeed, being far too cold to permit her to bestow her love where it was unlikely to meet with any response. But, in common with the rest of her family, she was intensely proud, and she felt bitterly humiliated at his open preference for another woman. Her talent for dissimulation, however, came to her aid, and not only did she refrain from reproaching him, but she treated the Sénéchale with the same courtesy as before; and the curious sought in vain for any indication of the jealousy and hatred which consumed her, and which the necessity for repression served only to aggravate.

But, if Catherine placed no obstacle in her rival's path, the latter was not permitted to triumph with impunity. For some years past Madame d'Étampes had regarded the Sénéchale, who was one of the few women at the Court who declined to acknowledge her ascendency, with far from friendly feelings, and Diane's conquest of the Dauphin roused her slumbering hatred to malignant activity. Great as was the influence she exercised, she knew that it must terminate with the King's life, and she feared the moment when the favourite of the Dauphin would reign in her place and be in a position to mete out to her the same treatment which she had received at her hands. She accordingly determined to employ every means in her power to expel her enemy from the citadel she had captured before that moment arrived.

In the hope of making the Dauphin ashamed of his choice, she summoned the poets to her aid, and soon there began to appear against the Sénéchale numerous epigrams ridiculing her unmercifully upon her age, her coquetry, her rouge, her powder, her artificial teeth, her false hair, and her wrinkled skin. The most bitter of these were the composition of one Jean Vouté, who in 1537 published, under the name of Vulteius, a collection of Latin verses, in which he assailed the favourite of the Dauphin with a license worthy of Martial:

"Empto quæ faciem colore pinguis,

Quæ ornas dentibus os tuum paratis,

Quæ celas capitis nives redempto

Crine. ..."

And elsewhere —

"Rugosa est facies et tibi laxa cutis."[21]

All this was, of course, entirely false; Diane had no need to summon Art to the assistance of Nature, having the most beautiful complexion in the world, excellent teeth, and abundant tresses. Nevertheless, it made very unpleasant reading, and, if the verses were written in a language not understanded of the people, there were many persons at the Court sufficiently well acquainted with Latin to translate them for the benefit of the unlettered.

As for Madame d'Étampes, far from being content to leave the attack to the scribes whom she protected, she lost no opportunity of expressing her astonishment at the bad taste shown by the Dauphin in choosing for his mistress a "toothless, wrinkled hag," who, she asserted, had been married on the same day on which she herself was born. There was, as a matter of fact, only nine years' difference between the two ladies.

Diane was not the kind of woman meekly to endure such assaults, and she retaliated by assailing the reputation of Madame d'Étampes, whom she accused of infidelity to her royal lover;[22] and the antagonism between the two women became a veritable war, which divided the Court into two hostile camps. Madame d'Étampes favoured those who viewed the Reformation with approval; Diane declared openly for the suppression of heresy. The duchess had for allies the Admiral Chabot de Brion, who was regarded as the King's rival in her affections; her uncle, Antoine Sanguin, Archbishop of Orléans, who, after his elevation to the purple, was known as the Cardinal de Melun; the ladies of the Petite Bande, most of the men of letters, and the majority of the courtiers, who naturally preferred to worship the risen planet rather than one which might be many years before it reached its zenith. The Sénéchale was assured of the support of Montmorency and of the Cardinal de Lorraine, both of whom shared her hatred of the new doctrines, the former from sincere religious conviction, the latter from fear of losing his benefices and episcopates, while the Grand-Master's friendship with the Dauphin naturally inclined him to take the side of that prince's mistress. The Cardinal de Lorraine's nephews, the three elder sons of the Duc de Guise, likewise paid court to the lady,[23] though their father held aloof from both parties and prudently declined to compromise himself. Diane could also count upon the discontented and ambitious women excluded from the royal circle, and those courtiers who had sufficient foresight to sacrifice present to future advantages. The forces of the two favourites were thus very evenly balanced, and every day the strife became more bitter.

Notes

(1) Georges Guiffrey (les Lettres inédites de Dianne de Poytiers) places the beginning of this romance "towards the end of 1536 or in the first months of 1537"; But, as we shall presently show, it was certainly in progress before January 1, 1537.

(2) Récréations historiques.

(3) Guiffrey, Introduction to les Lettres inédites de Dianne de Poytiers, in which the full text of the letters will be found; T. A. Cook, "Old Touraine."

(4) Dames galantes.

(5) Portraits des personnages français les plus illustres du XVIe siécle.

(6) Among the historians who have assisted to propagate the calumny are Mézeray (Abrégé chronologique), who, like its father, Regnier de la Planche, makes Diane a young girl at the time of the sacrifice of her honour, Sauval (Amours des Rois de France), Hauréau (François Ier et sa Cour), Michelet (Histoire de France), with whom no scandal was too gross to find acceptance, and Ludovic Lalanne, the editor of the Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris; while it was made use of by Victor Hugo in his celebrated tragedy, le Roi s'amuse.

(7) Louis de Brézé's active intervention on his father-in-law's behalf is proved by a letter written by him to Anne de Montmorency: "If you had been here, you would have aided me up to the end with all your influence. I have been compelled to speak myself, since I have found no one to help me; but I have so much confidence in his Majesty's goodness that I hope all will be well." — La Ferriere, Grandes Chasses du XVIe siècle.

(8) M. Guiffrey does not mention a fact which would have greatly strengthened his case, namely, that Brézé was one of the King's most intimate personal friends, and that François, on several occasions, visited him at his Château of Anet.

(9) Armand Baschet, la Diplomatie Vénitienne.

(10) Diane de Poitiers was created Duchesse de Valentinois, by Henri II, in 1549.

(11) Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris sous le Règne de François Premier, publie par Ludovic Lalanne (Paris, 1854).

(12) "Après avoyr entandu les propos que l'on m'a terms estant cheus mon beaupère."

(13) Œuvres de Clément Marot, accompagnées d'une préface historique, par l'Abbé Lenglet-Dufresnoy (Paris, 1731).

(14) Article Lenglet-Dufresnoy, Nouvelle Biographie générale.

(15) Niel, Portraits des personnages français les plus illustres du XVIe siècle; Dreux du Radier, Récréations historiques.

(16)

"Hoc, Lodoïce, tibi posuit Brisæe sepulchrum,

Pictonis amisso mœsta Diana viro.

Indivulsa tibi quondam et fidissima conjux,

Ut fuit in thalamo sic erit in tumulo."

(17) Le Laboureur, Additions aux Mémoires de Castelnau, vol. i. "Gallant" must be here understood in the Platonic sense.

(18) Que je vous donne.

(19) Bouchot, Catherine de Médicis.

(20) This has led some historians to believe that Filippa Duc was a myth, and that the child was the daughter of the Grande Sénéchale. The best-informed authorities on the period, however, follow contemporary opinion in accepting the Piedmontese origin of Diane de France.

(21) Desgardins, la Duchesse d'Étampes.

(22) If we are to believe the reports industriously circulated by Diane and her friends and repeated by the more picturesque chroniclers of the time, Madame d'Étampes was no more faithful to the King than she was to her husband, and Chabot de Brion, Clément Marot, the young Christian de Nançay, captain of the Guards, and several other gentlemen, shared in the favours which were supposed to be reserved for their Sovereign. The last-named gallant is said to have been one day surprised by François himself in the lady's chamber at the Château of Madrid. Taking advantage of his Majesty's absence at the chase, the duchess had granted M. de Nançay an assignation, having first taken the precaution of stationing a confidential attendant, Mlle, des Colliers, at one of the windows of the corridor leading to her apartments, to give her timely warning of the King's return. The day, however, was exceedingly close, and presently Mlle, des Colliers fell into a profound slumber, from which she was only awakened by the stamp of horses' hoofs and the jingling of bits in the courtyard below, which announced the return of the huntsmen. Terrified, she flew to warn the culprits; but she was too late, and the King, who was anxious to tell the duchess about his afternoon's sport, entered the boudoir almost as soon as she did. With a single glance he comprehended the situation, and, livid with anger, went to the window and shouted for his guards. Madame d'Étampes and Nançay stood with bowed heads before him, like convicted criminals awaiting sentence. But, when the guards arrived, the King affected to believe that it was the maid, and not the mistress, who was the delinquent. "Let that woman get up," he cried, pointing to Mlle, des Colliers, who, in an agony of terror for her protectress, had thrown herself at his feet. "And you, monsieur," turning furiously upon the young officer, "who dare to carry on an intrigue here with an attendant of Madame d'Étampes, go and reflect in prison on the impropriety of such conduct." And Nançay was marched off between two of his own men.

It is doubtful if there is any truth in this story, and, even if the duchess were unfaithful to her royal lover, it would not appear to have in any way affected her credit with the King. Perhaps, François felt that, if he had something to forgive, he had a great deal more to be forgiven; and, besides, the lady was so pretty, and so charming when she wished to please, that it would have been difficult for so susceptible a monarch to remain long inexorable.

(23) François, Comte d'Aumale, afterwards Duc de Guise; Charles, afterwards Archbishop of Rheims and Cardinal de Lorraine; and Claude, afterwards Marquis de Mayenne.

Chapter XI

Serious illness of the King — Policy of Montmorency — Charles V invited to pass through France on his way to the Netherlands — His magnificent reception — His entry into Paris — His departure for Flanders — The illusions of François I and Montmorency in regard to the cession of the Milanese rudely dispelled — The new proposals of the Emperor received with indignation by the French Court — Charles V invests his son Philip with the Milanese, and a fresh rupture between the two sovereigns becomes inevitable — Affection of the Dauphin for Montmorency — Increasing bitterness of the struggle between Madame d'Étampes and Diane de Poitiers — Diane and the Constable procure the disgrace of Chabot de Brion — Fury of Madame d'Étampes, who succeeds in alienating François from the Dauphin, and in convincing the King that Montmorency has sacrificed his interests to those of his eldest son — Disgrace of the Constable — Assassination of Rincon and Fregoso — Failure of Charles V's expedition against Algiers — François declares war against the Emperor

THE truce of Nice expired in its infancy, but not until it had done much to weaken the position of France in Europe. Soon after his interview with the Emperor at Aigues-Mortes, François I was attacked by a severe illness, which left him for a time a physical wreck,[01] and affected his mind to some degree as well as his body. Affairs now fell completely into the hands of Montmorency, upon whom, in February 1539, was conferred the office of Constable, vacant since the treason of Bourbon, and the external policy of France took a fresh direction. Montmorency, giving free rein to his Catholic and Imperialist predilections, broke off the friendly relations which had existed with England, the German Protestant princes, the Duke of Cleves, and the Turks, and not only persuaded the King, dazzled by the chimerical hope of a voluntary restitution of the Milanese, to reject the offer of the rebellious Ghent burghers to acknowledge him as their suzerain, but to reveal their proposals to Charles V, and to offer him a passage through France to Flanders, when he journeyed thither to reduce his revolted subjects to obedience.

Having first taken the precaution to secure letters of invitation from the King and Queen, the Dauphin and his brother, and the Constable and the Cardinal Jean de Lorraine, and an undertaking that he should not be troubled with State affairs during his sojourn in France, the Emperor accepted, and on November 27, 1539, he crossed the Bidassoa, accompanied by a small suite of some twenty to twenty-five gentlemen, who included the Duke of Alva, of sanguinary memory.

As the state of François's health prevented him from undertaking so long a journey, the duty of welcoming the illustrious guest devolved upon his two sons and Montmorency. The Duc d'Orléans met the Emperor half an hour before he crossed the frontier; while the Dauphin and the Constable, with nearly the whole of the King's Household, awaited him about a league from Bayonne.

Charles was suffering from a chill which he had caught while crossing the Pyrenees, and was therefore anxious to complete his journey as speedily as possible; but François had given orders that he was to be received "like the Kings of France on their joyous accession," and the fêtes which were given in his honour greatly retarded his progress. In every town through which he passed magnificent receptions awaited him, and the luxury displayed by both nobles and citizens caused the parsimonious Spaniards the most unbounded astonishment. At Poitiers, his Majesty was met by the governor, the Duc de la Trémoille, and the whole nobility of the province, and escorted into the town by between four and five thousand gentlemen superbly habited, and by two thousand citizens dressed in velvet and satin, laced with gold and silver. At Orléans, his escort was composed not only of all the local noblesse and militia, but also of "a guard of ninety-two young merchants of the town, well mounted on fine horses, all wearing black- velvet surcoats, with doublets of white satin fastened with gold buttons, velvet caps covered with gold embroidery and precious stones, white morocco buskins, all pinked, and spurs of gold. The value of a single cap was estimated at two thousand crowns, and there was not one among them who did not carry upon his person the value of more than two thousand francs in jewellery."[02]

At Loches, which was reached on December 10, the august traveller found the King and Queen awaiting him. The interview was cordial, the reception magnificent. Thenceforward François did not quit his guest, and they journeyed together towards Paris by way of Amboise, Blois, and Orléans. On December 31 they reached Vincennes, where the Emperor was acquainted with the arrangements for his solemn entry into the capital. This took place in the afternoon of New Year's Day 1540, with great ceremony. Early in the morning, Charles, accompanied by the Dauphin, the Duc d'Orléans, and the Constable, proceeded to Saint-Antoine-des-Champs, where a sumptuous pavilion had been erected for his accommodation. Here De Thou, the Provost of the Merchants, came to offer him the keys of the town, while, shortly afterwards, the Parlement, with the First President at its head, arrived to present him with an address of welcome. Then the state procession was formed, headed by the Parlement, and, amid the ringing of church bells and the firing of cannon, the Emperor made his entry into the city.

On his right hand rode the Dauphin, on his left, the Duc d'Orléans; while the Constable, dressed in a robe of cloth of gold and mounted on a magnificently-caparisoned charger, preceded them with his sword of office unsheathed, as though he were escorting his own sovereign. François himself, accompanied by the Queen, watched the procession from the windows of the Hotel de Montmorency, in the Rue Saint-Antoine.

As the Emperor passed through the city, the keys of the several prisons were delivered to him, as they had previously been in the provinces, and he declared the freedom of all captives detained therein. At the Hotel de Ville, he was harangued by the sheriffs, who presented him, on behalf of the municipality, with "a Hercules of massive silver, draped with a lion's skin of gold, the said statue being of the height of a tall man." From the Hôtel de Ville he proceeded to Notre-Dame, where a Te Deum was sung, after which he was conducted to the Louvre, where a suite of apartments had been newly decorated for his reception.

A week of magnificent fêtes followed, during which the Emperor sought to confirm Montmorency in his good dispositions by overwhelming him with condescension, and to conciliate Madame d'Étampes by flattery and presents; and on January 7 his Majesty, accompanied by the King and the Court, quitted Paris and proceeded to Saint-Denis, and thence to Chantilly, where he was splendidly entertained by the Constable. At Chantilly, François took leave of his brother-in-law,[03] and Charles continued his journey under the escort of the two princes and Montmorency, who did not quit him until he reached Valenciennes, the first town in his Flemish dominions (January 24). At parting, the Emperor presented them with costly souvenirs of his visit; diamonds to each of the princes, and a splendid emerald to Montmorency.

During the past twelve months the old bait of the Milanese had been dangled very assiduously before the covetous eyes of François; and at the beginning of February 1539 a provisional agreement had been arrived at between the King and the Emperor in regard to a marriage between the Duc d'Orléans and the daughter of Ferdinand of Austria, Charles promising that he would "dispose of the duchy and state of Milan, in virtue and contemplation of the said marriage, in such a manner that the said lord king would have reason to be well contented with it."

Apart from some allusions by members of the Court to the prospective cession of the Milanese, the question had not been raised during the Imperial visit, and, in their conversations, the King and the Constable had treated only of the general affairs of Europe.[04] It had been arranged, however, that after Charles had reduced the Gantois to submission and had seen his brother Ferdinand, who was to join him in Flanders, Montmorency and the Cardinal de Lorraine should proceed to Brussels, when his Majesty would make a definite pronouncement with regard to the Milanese. By the end of February, Ghent had made its submission and the King of the Romans had arrived at Brussels; but Montmorency waited in vain for the Imperial summons. None came, and when the French Ambassador at Brussels reminded Charles of his promises with regard to the Milanese, he answered that he had never made any which could be considered binding upon him. Finally, at the beginning of April, he submitted, through his Ambassador at the French Court, Saint-Vincent, an entirely new proposition, which showed that, while anxious to avoid a breach with France, he was resolved not to share Italy with a rival. François was to renounce all claims on the Milanese, to abandon all rights of suzerainty over Flanders, to restore the States of the Duke of Savoy, and to evacuate Hesdin; while the Emperor would renounce all pretensions to Burgundy and give his eldest daughter in marriage to the Duc d'Orléans, with the Netherlands, Franche-Comté, and the Charolais for her dowry. The Netherlands and Franche-Comté were to be erected into a kingdom, of which the young couple would enter into full possession after the death of the Emperor, and the King of France would accord his younger son an appanage worthy of so great an alliance, in proximity to the territory ceded to the bride. To bind yet closer Hapsburg and Valois by ties of common interest, Charles's son, Philip, was to wed Jeanne d'Albret, only daughter of Marguerite d'Angoulême, and purchase her rights over Lower Navarre and Béarn.

This project, which, if accepted, would have created a new House of Burgundy under the protection of Spain and the Empire, and inevitably have caused a feud between the Duc d'Orléans and his elder brother, already on sufficiently bad terms, was very ill received by the French Court. François was profoundly mortified to find that he had once more sacrificed the substance for the shadow and permitted Charles to subdue his Flemish subjects, come to an understanding with the German Protestant princes, and re-establish his authority in the whole Empire, while deluding him with promises which he had not the remotest intention of fulfilling. Montmorency, indignant at having allowed himself to be made the dupe of the Emperor, was as strongly opposed as the King to the new proposals, and urged his master to continue to insist on the cession of Lombardy. The negotiations dragged on for several months, but the favourable moment had been lost, and on October 11, 1540 the Emperor dissipated the last lingering hopes of François and the Constable by formally investing his son Philip with the duchy of Milan. From that moment, a fresh rupture between the two sovereigns was plainly inevitable, though both announced their intention of respecting the truce of Nice.[05]

ANNE, DUC DE MONTMORENCY, CONSTABLE OF FRANCE

FROM THE PAINTING IN ENAMEL IN LÉONARD LIMOSIN IN THE LOUVRE

The bestowal of the Milanese upon Philip of Spain proclaimed to Europe the total failure of Montmorency's policy, and was the signal for his disgrace, though the intrigues of the palace rather than the humiliation into which the Constable's almost pathetic trust in the Imperial justice and friendship had led his sovereign seem to have been the principal cause of his fall.

Ever since the campaigns of 1536 and 1537, the affection of the Dauphin for Montmorency had continued to increase, and the close friendship between the prince and the Constable, combined with the latter's strong Catholic convictions, had, as we have seen, caused the Constable to become one of the staunchest supporters of Diane de Poitiers in the unceasing struggle which she waged with the King's mistress, Madame d'Étampes. As time passed, this struggle became more and more envenomed, and both François and his elder son found themselves involved in it.

The two ladies began active hostilities in the person of their partisans, "seeming to regard one another as kings upon a chessboard, who are not attacked until the principal pieces have been taken."[06] The Admiral, Chabot de Brion, Madame d'Étampes's principal champion and long Montmorency's sworn enemy, was accused of enriching himself in various ways at the expense of the State. The King, already irritated against the Admiral by the friendship a little too tender which Madame d'Étampes testified for him, ordered him to be arrested and imprisoned in the Château of Melun (February 1539), and in November 1540 he was tried by a commission presided over by the Chancellor, Poyet, a creature of Diane and the Constable. Poyet, notwithstanding the reluctance of some of the judges, succeeded in securing the condemnation of the accused, who was deprived of all his dignities, banished from the Court, and mulcted in a fine of 1,500,000 livres.

Montmorency was not allowed much time to rejoice over the downfall of his rival. The arrest of Chabot had greatly infuriated Madame d'Étampes, who became from that moment the implacable enemy of the Constable, and left no means untried to destroy his credit with the King. While the rapprochement with the Emperor lasted, she appears to have made but little impression on Montmorency's position, for François naturally looked to its author to secure the cession of the Milanese. But when, at the beginning of April 1540, the King's eyes were suddenly and rudely opened to the real value of the Imperial promises, her task was, of course, immensely facilitated. Already she had succeeded in alienating father from son, and in persuading his Majesty to express to the Dauphin in very plain language his disapproval of his infatuation for the Sénéchale;[07] and it was not difficult for her to awaken the King's suspicions in regard to the intimacy between Henri and Montmorency, declaring her conviction that the Constable had sacrificed the interests of the King to those of his heir, and secretly connived at the Emperor's duplicity, from a desire to prevent the aggrandizement of the Duc d'Orléans, of whom his elder brother was jealous. "The Constable is a great villain," she exclaimed one day. "He has deceived the King, telling him that the Emperor would immediately surrender to him the Milanese, when he knew the contrary."

The change in François's attitude towards the Constable was soon apparent to the Argus-eyed courtiers. "It is said," wrote one of Montmorency's friends to him, "that the King is displeased with you, on account of some conversations and understandings which you have had with the Dauphin."[08] The King now no longer left the absolute direction of affairs in the Constable's hands, and he was compelled to share a power which for nearly two years he had possessed in its entirety with the Cardinals de Lorraine and de Tournon and Annebaut. After the Emperor's bestowal of the Milanese on Don Philip had destroyed all hope of an accommodation, the King's secretaries received orders from his Majesty to discontinue the use of the diplomatic cypher which Montmorency had given them, and the Ambassadors to address their despatches to François himself; while, some weeks later, the Chancellor took over the direction of the Foreign Office.

Finally, in the following summer, the disgrace so long expected arrived. It was indicated to the Constable in a singular manner at the marriage of the little Jeanne d'Albret to the Emperor's rebellious subject, Guillaume de la Marck, Duke of Clèves, which was François's reply to the bestowal of the Milanese on Don Philip. The future mother of Henri IV, although she was at this time but twelve years old, already possessed that haughty character and strength of will which were to make her, in years to come, so redoubtable a party leader. She had evinced the strongest repugnance to the marriage arranged for her, and had "very humbly besought the King that she might not be obliged to marry M. de Clèves." Finding her objections disregarded by François and her parents, she adopted the singular expedient of making a formal protest against her compulsory nuptials in a document which she herself drew up and caused to be witnessed by three officers of her Household, wherein she declared that she "had never consented to it, and never would consent, and that all that she might say and do hereafter, by which it might be attempted to prove that she had given her consent, would be forcibly extorted from her against her wish and desire, from her dread of the King, of the King her father, and of the Queen her mother, who had threatened to have her whipped by her gouvernante, the baillive of Caen."[09]

At the marriage ceremony, at Châtellerault, the child-bride appeared attired in a robe of cloth of gold, heavily embroidered with jewels, and an enormous ermine train. When her royal uncle approached to conduct her to the altar, she suddenly complained of feeling unwell, and declared that it was perfectly impossible for her to walk, on account of the weight of her gilded and bejewelled gown. François, greatly annoyed, turned brusquely to the Constable and ordered him to carry the princess. Montmorency, bitterly mortified that he, the first personage in the realm after the King, should be called upon to undertake such a duty, obeyed; but, as he returned to his place in the bridal procession, after depositing his burden at the altar, he observed: "C'est fait désormais de faveur. Adieu luy dit."[10] Next day, he quitted the Court and retired to Chantilly, and afterwards to Écouen, where he had begun the construction of a magnificent Château. Unable, however, to believe that the King intended his disgrace to be permanent, he solicited, towards the end of the summer, permission to return, to which his Majesty replied by a curt refusal and an intimation that, if he came without his permission, he would have reason to regret it. Several persons ventured to expostulate with François on his treatment of the Constable, reminding him of the services which the object of his displeasure had rendered during the last war, and pointing out the need which France had of so experienced a captain at a moment when she was about to measure swords once more with her redoubtable enemy. But, thanks to the efforts of Madame d'Étampes, the King remained inexorable.

Although François's refusal to avail himself of the services of his ablest general was a grave error, he had certainly good reason for his irritation against the Constable, since he was now experiencing the difficulty of renewing the alliances which had been broken during the administration of Montmorency. However, thanks to the untiring efforts of the French diplomatists, the suspension of the persecution against the Huguenots, and the marriage of Jeanne d'Albret to the Protestant Duke of Clèves, with whom François formed an offensive and defensive alliance, some of the German Protestants were wooed back, and Soliman was persuaded by the enterprising Paulin de la Garde[11] to promise the Most Christian King the assistance of his fleet.

Paulin had not been François's original envoy to the Sultan, and the fate of his predecessor, Antonio Rincon, a Spanish refugee, had nearly provoked immediate war. As Rincon was passing, without a safe-conduct, down the Po, in company with another agent of the French Government, named Cesare Fregoso, who had been despatched on a mission to Venice, the barge in which they were travelling was attacked, near Pavia, by a party of Spanish soldiers, sent by the Marquis del Guasto, the Milanese Viceroy, and both the diplomatists were killed (July 2, 1541). The seizure of their papers was the object of the crime, but, as the most compromising of these had been entrusted to Guillaume du Bellay, the Governor of Piedmont, to be forwarded to Venice, it was not attained. Del Guasto, when accused of having instigated the assassination, declared that the culprits were merely brigands, but it was soon proved beyond all reasonable doubt that they were soldiers from the garrison of Pavia; and François filled all Europe with denunciations of the outrage perpetrated on the sacred persons of his agents, and demanded reparation from the Empire and the Diet. However, as the chain of alliances which he hoped to form was not yet complete, and the Pope besought him not to attack Charles until the latter's return from his approaching expedition against Algiers, he decided to postpone hostilities until the following year.

The expedition against Algiers ended in a lamentable fiasco, and the Emperor returned to Spain with prestige and power both seriously diminished. François had, of course, no scruple in turning the common misfortune of Christendom to his own advantage; his deliberate exaggeration of Charles's losses encouraged both Christian III of Denmark and Gustavus Wasa of Sweden to join the anti-Imperial alliance; the co-operation of the Porte was tacitly acknowledged, and on July 12, 1542 war was formally declared.

Notes

(1) "Une recrudescence du mal aigu et honteux qui l'avait frappé dès sa jeunesse," says Henri Martin, which is likely enough; but there appears to be no truth in the legend of "la belle Feronnière" accepted by so many historians. See, on this anecdote, Lescure, les Maîtresses de François Ier.

(2) Paradin, Histoire de notre temps. It must not be supposed that all this extravagance was wholly spontaneous. Montmorency, indeed, to whom the supervision of the arrangements for the Emperor's reception had been entrusted, seems to have experienced considerable difficulty in whipping up the necessary enthusiasm, and the municipality of Paris protested loudly against the expenditure required of it.

(3) Several historians state that the King accompanied Charles as far as Saint-Quentin, but this is incorrect.

(4) In the course of his interviews with the Emperor, Montmorency had pushed his complaisance so far as actually to reveal to Charles the nature of the correspondence of the Lutheran princes with the King of France.

(5) Henri Martin says that the Emperor's investiture of his son was in retaliation for the bestowal of the hand of Jeanne d'Albret upon Guillaume de la Marck, Duke of Clèves; but this marriage did not take place until the following June, and was, in point of fact, François's reply to Charles's move, Guillaume de la Marck being in arms against his sovereign.

(6) Forneron, les Ducs de Guise et leur époque.

(7) "I did not fear in days gone by," wrote Henri, many years later, to Diane, "to lose the good graces of my father in order to remain near you. I have known only one God and one friend." — Guiffrey, Lettres inédites de Dianne de Poytiers.

(8) Decrue, Anne de Montmorency, grand maître et connétable de France, a la cour, aux armées et au conseil du roi François Ier.

(9) Martha Freer, "Jeanne d'Albret, Queen of Navarre," in which the full text of the document is given.

(10) Brantôme, Grandes capitaines français.

(11) Antoine Escalin des Aimars, Baron de la Garde, Marquis de Briançon, celebrated under the name of Captain Paulin. Born in 1498 at the village of la Garde, in Dauphiné, his parents being poor peasants, he began life as a "goujat," or soldier's servant, and rose to be captain of a company of men-at-arms. His courage and abilities having attracted the attention of Guillaume du Bellay, he was presented to François I, who, in 1541, sent him on a mission to Venice, which he carried out successfully. After his mission to the Porte he was created Baron de la Garde and appointed general of the galleys. He had a distinguished naval career, being, in fact, the best sailor France possessed in the sixteenth century, but the horrible atrocities which he perpetrated on the hapless Vaudois in 1545 have left an indelible stain on his memory. He died at his native village in 1578, at the age of eighty.

Chapter XII

François decides to remain on the defensive in Italy and to invade Luxembourg and Roussillon — Success of the French in Luxembourg compromised by the folly and egotism of the Duc d'Orléans — The Dauphin, with an army of 40,000 men, invades Roussillon and arrives before Perpignan, only to find that the Imperialists have rendered it almost impregnable — Futile efforts of the French to reduce the place — Gallantry of Brissac — The King orders the Dauphin to raise the siege — Retreat of the army — François and the Spanish women-captives — Birth of a son to the Dauphin — Precarious situation of Catherine de' Medici previous to the birth of her child — Her diplomacy saves the situation — Baptism of the little prince — Campaign in the Netherlands — Failure of the Dauphin to reduce the citadel of Binche — Charles V arrives at Speyer — Fatal inaction of François — Düren stormed by the Imperialists — The Duke of Clèves makes his submission to the Emperor — England joins Charles V — Indecisive operations in the Netherlands — The Turks on the coast of Provence

IN former contests between François and Charles, Italy had been the chief theatre of war; but, on the present occasion, notwithstanding that a vigorous attack upon the Milanese seemed to promise a certain and speedy conquest, the King, who had hitherto consistently sacrificed everything to his Italian ambitions, resolved to remain on the defensive beyond the Alps, while he invaded Luxembourg in the north and Roussillon in the south. If we are to believe the words which the Mémoires of Martin du Bellay attribute to François, this decision was arrived at in order to give the appearance of attacking the enemy "in places which rightly appertained to him, and which had been usurped without legitimate title." But, as his claim to the Milanese was at least as strong as those to Luxembourg and Roussillon, and as the advantage to the Porte of a plan of campaign which would prevent the Emperor from sending any considerable force to the valley of the Danube is obvious, it is probable that Soliman had insisted on its adoption as a condition of his support.

The command of the Army of the North was entrusted to the Duc d'Orléans, with Claude, Duc de Guise, to advise him; that of Roussillon was given to the Dauphin, Annebaut being summoned from Piedmont to act as his lieutenant-general and counsellor; while the King, who hoped to draw his rival into a great battle in the Roussillon valleys, announced his intention of joining it in person, if the Emperor should cross the Pyrenees. Three other armies were set on foot; one, consisting almost entirely of German mercenaries hired by the Duke of Clèves with French gold, invaded Brabant; the second, under the Duc de Vendôme, defended the Flemish frontier; while the third held Piedmont.

The troops of the Duke of Clèves defeated the Flemish militia and overran Brabant, which they pillaged mercilessly. They then marched into the duchy of Luxembourg to join Orléans, and their combined forces, amounting to some 33,000 men, stormed or reduced Damvilliers, Yvon, Arlon, Luxembourg and Montmédi. The folly and egotism of the youthful commander-in-chief, however, not only prevented these successes from being followed up, but sacrificed the most important of them. Bitterly jealous of his elder brother, and learning that there was a prospect of a pitched battle being fought in Roussillon, he disbanded the greater part of his forces, and leaving only very weak garrisons to hold the captured towns, posted off to Montpellier, where the King had taken up his quarters. The Imperialists took prompt advantage of this to recover the town of Luxembourg, and, but for the courage and activity of Guise, the other places taken by the French would have shared the same fate.

The news of the fall of Luxembourg followed closely upon the prince's heels, in consequence of which he spent a very unpleasant quarter of an hour with his royal father at Montpellier; nor was he able to redeem his reputation by knightly deeds in Roussillon, since the blunders of François, the Dauphin, and Annebaut had relieved the Emperor of the necessity of risking a battle in order to save that province.

The army of the Dauphin had assembled at Avignon, with the intention of deluding the enemy into the belief that Italy was its destination, until Annebaut, who was on his way from Piedmont with 15,000 men, had had time to join it. Annebaut, however, appears to have been indiscreet — some chroniclers declare intentionally, though this is probably a slander — and when he began his eastward march, the Imperialists had no longer any doubt as to the French designs against Roussillon. Nevertheless, the main objective of the invasion — the taking of Perpignan— might still have been achieved, if the Dauphin, instead of awaiting Annebaut's arrival before taking the offensive, had sent forward a strong advance-guard to occupy the Pyrenean passes and cut off the communications of Perpignan with Catalonia and the sea. This, however, he neglected to do, though, as he was probably only carrying out the King's orders to remain inactive, it would be unfair to blame him.

Annebaut and the troops from Piedmont arrived towards the middle of August, and the Dauphin immediately marched on Roussillon by way of Nimes and Narbonne, where he was reinforced by contingents from Languedoc and Guienne, which raised the strength of his army to over 40,000 men, of whom only about one-third were French, the rest being Swiss, landsknechts, and Italian mercenaries. No opposition was met with, and on August 26 he arrived before Perpignan.

Here, however, a bitter mortification awaited him, for the town, which he had been led to believe would prove an easy conquest, was bristling with cannon, "like a porcupine which, when provoked, shows its quills in every direction," and he was saluted by a storm of shot from cannon and culverins "of which the enemy were as liberal as they were of their arquebus balls."[01] Taking advantage of the early information which he had received of the designs of the French and the failure of the Dauphin to occupy the mountain passes, the Emperor had sent by sea all the artillery and ammunition which he had saved from the Algiers expedition, and had caused the fortifications to be strengthened, with the result that Perpignan had been converted into a fortress capable of bidding defiance to an even more powerful army than the one which now lay before it.

However, the Dauphin, who was burning to distinguish himself, at once ordered the trenches to be opened, and sent his light cavalry under the Sieur de Termes into the mountains to occupy the passes and prevent reinforcements arriving from Aragon. But the soil was so sandy that the works which the French constructed were in a moment reduced to powder by the artillery of the besieged; while Termes was too late to prevent a considerable force under the command of Alva from being thrown into the place.

Encouraged by the arrival of Alva, the garrison made continual sorties, in repelling which the besiegers suffered severely. Having one day observed that several batteries were very insufficiently guarded, the Spaniards sallied out in force, stormed the batteries, and were about to overturn the cannon into the trenches, when Brissac,[02] who commanded the French infantry, hurried up at the head of the few troops he had been able to get together, and charged the enemy so fiercely that they were compelled to retire. The Dauphin, who had been a witness of this gallant action, paid the victor a graceful compliment. "If," said he, "I were not what I am, I should have wished this day to be M. de Brissac."[03]

Towards the end of September, the King despatched the Comte de Saint-Pol and Chabot de Brion, who, in the preceding spring, had, thanks to the intercession of Madame d'Étampes, been rehabilitated and restored to all his offices and dignities,[04] to ascertain how the siege was progressing. They reported that the investing army had failed to make the slightest impression on the place; that provisions were failing; that dysentery had broken out among the troops, and that the mountain torrents, swollen by the autumn rains, were overflowing their banks and threatening to render the camp untenable and cut off the army's communications with France. François thereupon sent orders to the Dauphin to raise the siege, which was done on October 4, the army retiring in excellent order and repulsing with considerable loss an attempt of the Spaniards to fall upon their rear. It was certainly time to retreat, for three days later the whole valley of the Têt was under water, and several soldiers of the rearguard were drowned in crossing the swollen streams on their line of march.

Thus, the expedition from which so much had been expected ended in total failure, and the only trophies which the invaders had to show were a number of Spanish women, whom the Italian mercenaries had carried off, with the intention of compelling their husbands and fathers to ransom them. The Spaniards sent envoys to the King to complain bitterly of this wholesale abduction as an infringement of the laws of civilised warfare, and to demand the liberation of the captives; but the condottieri retorted that such complaints came very badly from a nation who at the sack of Rome had held not only women but infants in arms to ransom, and declined to surrender them. Finally, if we are to believe Jovius, François, moved by the sight of beauty in distress, settled the matter to the satisfaction of all parties, by paying the money demanded himself and ordering the women to be restored to their homes.

In Piedmont, Guillaume du Bellay and his brother Martin bravely held their ground against the superior forces of the Imperialists; but his exertions proved too much for the former, whose health was already shattered, and he died at the beginning of the following January, while on his way back to France.

At the beginning of the following year, an event took place at Fontainebleau which must have gone some way to console the Dauphin for the Roussillon fiasco. On January 19, 1543, after nearly ten years of marriage, Catherine de' Medici gave birth to the first of her ten children, a son, the future François II.[05]

Catherine's sterility had been a grievous disappointment to all concerned, and the cause of sore trouble to herself. For some time, indeed, she had lived in constant dread of being repudiated, and to this fear is, no doubt, attributable the fact that she appears to have made it her first study to remain as much as possible in the background, to avoid giving offence to any one, and to live on amicable terms with both the ladies whose rivalry divided the Court; while, at the same time, deferring in every way to her husband and losing no opportunity of insinuating herself into the good graces of the King.

She had need of all her diplomacy, for, some months before she became enceinte, François had all but decided on taking steps to get the marriage annulled.[06] Learning, however, of what was in the wind, Catherine lost not a moment in seeking the King, and, bathed in tears, threw herself at his feet, declaring that she was ready to sacrifice herself for the good of France, and would either retire to a convent or remain in his service, just as he might be pleased to order.

François, who was seldom proof against a woman's tears and was genuinely attached to the girl, was touched, and, raising her up, assured her that, "since God had willed that she was to be his daughter-in-law and the Dauphin's wife, he would not have it otherwise," adding that "perchance it might please Him to accord them the grace which they desired more than anything else in the world."

And so, thanks to Catherine's politic move, the evil day was postponed, and when her son was born, the danger passed away altogether, and, for the first time probably since her marriage, she was able to regard the future with a tranquil mind.

The baptism of the royal infant, which took place on the evening of February 10, 1543, must have been an impressive ceremony. Let us listen to Paradin:

"Three hundred torches were given to as many persons of the Guards of the King and of the Dauphin, and the Swiss Guard, who were stationed from his Majesty's chamber to the Church of the Mathurins, passing the little gallery, where these lights made everything so plainly visible that it seemed as though it were the middle of the day. Afterwards, came his hundred gentlemen of the Household. Then the Chevaliers of the Order (of Saint-Michel), among them being the King of Navarre, the Ducs d'Orléans, de Vendôme, d'Estouteville, de Guise, de Nevers, and the Comte d'Aumale, and also the Venetian Ambassador. The Legate [Cardinal Farnese], with several other cardinals and prelates, was also present.

"Next came the Queen and all the princesses who were then at Court, namely, Madame Marguerite, the King's daughter, who has married the Duke of Savoy, the Princess of Navarre [Jeanne d'Albret], Madame de Saint-Pol, the two Duchesses de Nevers, Madame de Montpensier, Madame de Guise, the Duchesse d'Étampes, and several other ladies, who were all very sumptuously attired in cloth of gold and silver with an infinitude of precious stones, which had a dazzling effect; and in the midst of this crowd was the child who was being carried to be baptized.

"In this order and magnificence they entered the aforesaid Church of the Mathurins, whither the King proceeded immediately. It was decorated with the most costly Crown tapestries and divers other ornaments. In the middle there was a circular daïs, on which one saw a great covering of cloth of silver. This was the place where the baptismal ceremony was performed, the duty being undertaken by the Cardinal de Bourbon.

"The godfathers were the King, who gave the child his own name of François, and the Duc d'Orléans, third Son of France and paternal uncle of our little prince,[07] and the godmother was Madame Marguerite, of whom mention has already been made.

"All this ceremonial being thus completed, the child was carried back in the same order in which he had been brought thither; and they at once sat down to the banquet which the King had caused to be made ready in what now bears the name of the Salle du Bal; and, after this banquet, there were divers ballets, dances, and other similar rejoicings, which continued for several days.

"A large and splendid bastion had been erected near the Kennels, on the ground which is now occupied by the Allée Solitaire and the Allée des Muriers blancs, and on the pond were three galleys decorated with their banderoles. All being thus arranged, on Thursday, the 14th of the said month, several skirmishes took place between two parties of princes and nobles, one party defending the said bastion, and the other attacking it, by land, and by water with the said galleys. In this fashion these splendours concluded."

Two years later (April 2, 1545), also at Fontainebleau, Catherine presented her husband with a daughter, Elisabeth de Valois, the future Queen of Spain. The little girl's baptism appears to have been celebrated with as much pomp and magnificence as that of her brother, for Henry VIII had consented to stand as godfather to the young princess, and the French King wished to show Cheney and Dudley, who represented their master, that his Court could still make as brave a show as in the days of the Field of the Cloth of Gold.

The war in 1543 was confined to Italy and the Netherlands. In the Low Countries, Fortune at first smiled upon the French and their allies; at the end of March the troops of the Duke of Clèves defeated the Imperialists at Sittard, while in June François and the Dauphin invaded Hainaut, at the head of 35,000 men, and took Landrecies, on the Sambre, which they proceeded to fortify. While this work was in progress, the army encamped at Marolles, to cover the engineers, but, so that it might not remain altogether idle, François detached the Dauphin and a small force to reduce the Château of Émery, Barlemont, Maubeuge, and Binche. The first three places surrendered with scarcely a pretence of resistance, but at Binche the prince found the same ill-fortune awaiting him as he had experienced at Perpignan the previous autumn; for, having received warning of his approach, the Imperialists had thrown a strong force of landsknechts into the citadel and provisioned it for a long siege. In a rather rash attempt to take the fortress by storm, the French suffered considerable loss, and Gaspard de Coligny, the future Huguenot leader — "a young noble full of fire, who sought only opportunities for distinction" — received an arquebus-ball in the chest, which nearly cut short his career.[08]

Much chagrined at this check, the Dauphin applied to his father for reinforcements and siege-artillery; but François, being unwilling to weaken his own lines, in view of the possibility of being attacked by the Imperialists, who were assembling in force at Mons and Quesnoi, refused the assistance solicited and ordered him to raise the siege. At the end of July the fortifications of Landrecies were completed, upon which the King, having placed a garrison of some 3,000 men there, evacuated the other places which he had taken, disbanded part of his army, and retired with the remainder to Rheims, where he divided his attentions between the beasts of the forest and the beauties of the Court.

His rival, meanwhile, was employing his time very differently. Leaving Spain under the charge of Philip, aided by a Council of Regency, at the end of May Charles landed at Genoa. Thanks to the dowry which his daughter-in-law, Maria of Portugal, had brought with her, the loan of the treasures of the Mexican fleet, and a large subsidy granted him by Cosimo de' Medici, he was once more in funds, and thousands of landsknechts flocked to his standard as he hurried through Germany to Speyer, where he arrived on July 25. That his first move would be to take summary vengeance upon his rebellious vassal, the Duke of Clèves, could not be doubted, and that prince sent courier after courier to Francois to implore him to march to his assistance. But the King, having disbanded the greater part of his army, made no move until the end of August, when he undertook a fresh invasion of Luxembourg, in the hope of diverting Charles's attention from the duchy of Clèves.

Before, however, he had even crossed the Luxembourg frontier, the fate of his ally was sealed. In mid-August, the Imperialists, now over 30,000 strong, invaded the duke's dominions, and on the 22nd appeared before Düren. This town was reputed to be impregnable, but, two days later, after a struggle of three hours, it was taken by storm, and the garrison and all the male inhabitants, save old men and children, ruthlessly massacred. No second example of the consequences of resistance to the Imperial arms was required; town after town opened its gates to the invaders, and on September 7 the Duke of Clèves rode into Charles's camp at Venloo, on the Meuse, declaring that he "came to throw himself at the feet of the most illustrious Emperor, to receive the chastisement of his fault or some ray of mercy and pardon."

The news of the duke's submission reached François at Luxembourg, which had surrendered to the French on September 10. Although the loss of this valuable ally was mainly due to his own indolence and want of foresight, he chose to consider himself the aggrieved party, and revenged himself upon the duke by refusing to send him his wife, Jeanne d'Albret. The marriage was subsequently annulled, to the great satisfaction of the young princess, who married, five years later, Antoine de Bourbon, Duc de Vendôme; while the Duke of Clèves received the hand of a daughter of the King of the Romans.

An even more important ally than the Duke of Clèves had already been lost to François. Owing to the support accorded by him to James V of Scotland, joined to several differences of long standing, in the previous February Henry VIII had concluded a treaty with the Emperor, in which the old design of a partition of France was renewed, and 6,000 English troops now joined the Imperialists, who, at the end of September, entered Hainaut and laid siege to Landrecies. Charles himself, though he had been recently very ill, joined the investing army a little later, and took command in person of the English contingent, declaring that "if the French King comes, as he saith he will, I will live and die with you Englishmen."

The French King duly appeared upon the scene at the end of October, and Martin du Bellay, by a clever stratagem, succeeded in revictualling Landrecies. A battle seemed imminent, but François, though he spoke constantly of his impatience to bring his rival to an engagement, seems to have had but little desire to try conclusions with him, and Charles was permitted to draw off without molestation; while on the night of November 2-3, the King, on his side, fell back to Guise. In their retreat the French were harassed by a considerable force of the enemy, and some sharp skirmishing took place, in which the Dauphin showed both coolness and courage.

While these events were taking place in the Netherlands, the ports of Provence were witnessing the strange spectacle of the white cross of the Very Christian King and the crescent of the Infidel floating side by side. In the last week of April, Barbarossa left Constantinople, with one hundred and ten galleys and a number of smaller vessels and transports, with 14,000 troops on board, and, after ravaging the Calabrian and Tuscan coasts and burning Reggio to the ground, proceeded to Marseilles, where he was joined by a considerable, but very inadequately equipped, French squadron under the Comte d'Enghien, younger brother of Antoine de Bourbon.[09] The combined fleet then sailed for Nice, the only place of any importance remaining to the Duke of Savoy, and speedily compelled it to capitulate. The garrison, however, retired into the castle, which defied all the efforts of the besiegers, and when, in September, Del Guasto and Andrea Doria moved to its relief, Enghien and Barbarossa raised the siege, and, having laid the town in ashes, retired to Toulon. No further expedition was attempted, the Turks wintering at Toulon and converting that port into a market for the sale of the hapless population of Nice, whom they had carried off as slaves. Early in the spring, they sailed homewards, harrying the Italian coasts on their way, the only result of their intervention being to cover with indelible disgrace the monarch who had invoked their aid and connived at the atrocities which they had perpetrated upon the subjects of his defenceless kinsman.[10]

Notes

(1) Martin du Bellay, Mémoires.

(2) Charles de Cossé, Seigneur de Brissac, afterwards marshal.

(3) Boyvin du Villars, Mémoires.

(4) Chabot's rehabilitation, however, came too late, for his misfortunes had so affected his health that he died the following year.

(5) It may be as well here to give the list of the children of Henri and Catherine:

1. François, born at Fontainebleau, January 19, 1543; married April 24, 1558, Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots; became King July 10, 1559; died at Orléans, November 17, 1560.

2. Elisabeth, born at Fontainebleau, April 2, 1545; married July 1559, Philip II of Spain; died October 3, 1568.

3. Claude, born at Fontainebleau, November 12, 1547; married 1559 the Duke of Lorraine.

4. Louis, born at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, February 3, 1548 [printing error in the original publication, should read 1549]; died at the Château of Mantes, October 25, 1550.

5. Charles Maximilien, born at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, June 27, 1550; became King November 27, 1560; married Isabella of Austria, October 22, 1570; died May 30, 1574.

6. Edouard Alexandre (Henri III), born at Fontainebleau, September 20, 1551; King of Poland, 1573; King of France, 1574; married February 15, 1575, Louise de Lorraine; died at Saint-Cloud, August 2, 1589.

7. Marguerite (the celebrated "Queen Margot"), born at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, May 14, 1553; married Henri de Bourbon, King of Navarre (Henri IV of France), August 18, 1572; died March 27, 1615.

8. Hercule (François, Duc d'Alençon, and later Duc d'Anjou), born at Fontainebleau, March 18, 1554; died at Château-Thierry, June 10, 1584.

9. Victoire, born at Fontainebleau, July 24, 1556; died at Amboise on August 17 of the same year.

10. Jeanne, born the same day, ten hours after her sister; died immediately.

(6) Miss Sichel, in her "Catherine de' Medici and the French Reformation," without giving her authority, says that "Diane persuaded the King that the separation of husband and wife was the only wise course." But this is most improbable. In the first place, neither the Dauphin nor Diane desired it, for the very good reason that Henri was very unlikely to find another consort as complaisant as Catherine had shown herself. In the second, Diane was in very bad odour with the King, owing to the jealousy between her and Madame d'Étampes, and she was about the last person at the Court from whom François would have been inclined to take advice.

(7) Paradin is in error. The godfathers were François I, the Pope (Paul III), and the Seigneurie of Venice.

(8) Martin du Bellay.

(9) The French vessels were so short of powder and ball that they had to purchase them from their allies.

(10) François's own subjects did not altogether escape the attentions of the Turks, for, a fever having carried off a number of their galley-slaves, Barbarossa organised night-raids upon the villages around Toulon, in order to fill the empty benches.

Chapter XIII

Critical situation of France at the beginning of the campaign of 1544 — Brilliant victory of Enghien at Ceresole — France invaded by Charles V and Henry VIII — The mutual suspicion of the allies prevents their adhering to their original plan of advancing straight upon Paris — Henry VIII lays siege to Boulogne and Montreuil, and the Emperor to Saint-Dizier — A pretended letter from the Duc de Guise causes the garrison of Saint-Dizier to capitulate — Charge of treason against Madame d'Étampes considered — The Dauphin entrusted with the command of the French Grand Army, with orders to remain entirely on the defensive — He entreats the King to recall Montmorency, but François angrily refuses — Henry VIII declines to advance on Paris until Boulogne and Montreuil have fallen— Capture of the Dauphin's magazines at Épernay and Château-Thierry by the Imperialists — The Dauphin falls back to Meaux — Panic in the capital — The King succeeds in restoring the confidence of the Parisians — Charles V, finding that his ally still refuses to cross the Somme, makes overtures for peace — Peace of Crépy — Indignation of the Dauphin, who enters a secret protest against the treaty — Henry VIII and the bulk of his army return to England — The Dauphin in Picardy — Failure of the camisado of Boulogne

THE third campaign began, in 1544, under the most gloomy auspices. François was now isolated. During the winter Charles had succeeded in detaching Denmark and Sweden from the hostile coalition, while most of the German Protestants, irritated by the French King's supposed friendship with the Pope, had made their peace with the Emperor. Henry VIII had assembled an army of 30,000 men at Calais, which was subsequently joined by 15,000 Netherlanders, with the intention of marching through Picardy, straight upon Paris; while the Emperor was to advance upon the capital from Lorraine, and Del Guasto, having swept the French out of Piedmont, would enter France by way of Lyons. François's resources were practically exhausted. He had been accustomed to rely almost entirely on mercenaries, and to repose but little confidence in his own subjects, notwithstanding their undoubted courage and natural aptitude for war; and now there was no money to pay these hireling warriors. By incredible exertions, however, an army was raised in Piedmont and placed under the command of Enghien, with strict injunctions not to allow himself to be drawn into an engagement. Thanks to the persuasive eloquence of Blaise de Montluc, whom Enghien had sent to the Court, this order was subsequently revoked,[01] and on April 14 the young general gained the great victory of Ceresole, in which the Imperialists were utterly routed with the loss of 12,000 men.

This brilliant success, the most decisive which France had won in Italy since Marignano, was barren of results, at least so far as the peninsula was concerned, for the danger in the north was too pressing for François to permit Enghien to invade Lombardy. He accordingly received orders to remain in Piedmont, and, towards the end of June, the greater part of his victorious troops was recalled to France, to assist in stemming the advancing tide of invasion.

It had been arranged between Charles and Henry that their campaign should begin in June, and that they should both advance direct upon Paris, without lingering to lay siege to any of the fortresses which lay on their respective lines of march. If this plan had been strictly adhered to, Paris must have fallen, and the dismemberment of France would probably have followed. But neither King nor Emperor trusted his ally, and the result of their mutual suspicion was that Henry turned aside to besiege Boulogne and Montreuil, while the Imperialists invested Saint-Dizier, on the Marne (July 8).

Although the fortifications of Saint-Dizier were in a very dilapidated condition, the heroism of its garrison arrested the advance of the invaders for nearly six weeks, and it was not until August 17 that it capitulated. Its fall came about in a singular manner.

The scouts of the investing army intercepted and brought to the Imperial Chancellor, Granvelle, who had accompanied his master, a packet in which was found "the alphabet of the cypher" which the Duc de Guise, governor of Champagne, employed for his correspondence with the Comte de Sancerre, who commanded the garrison of Saint-Dizier. Granvelle immediately forged a letter from Guise to Sancerre, in which he warned him that he must not expect any assistance and authorised him to surrender the place on honourable terms, which the Imperialists, of course, readily accorded.[02]

Several writers allege that it was not chance but treason which placed Guise's cypher in the enemies' hands. If we are to believe the historian Beaucaire, who wrote during the reign of Charles IX, under the name of Belcarius, Benvenuto Cellini, and Brantôme, Madame d'Étampes, alarmed at the declining health of her royal lover and the approach of the day when the Dauphin would succeed him, and her enemy, Diane de Poitiers, reign supreme, had become a warm friend and partisan of the Duc d'Orléans; and, in order to ensure herself an asylum on the King's death, ardently desired to bring about an arrangement between François and Charles V, which would secure to the young prince an independent sovereignty, such as the Emperor had offered him in 1540, and which the Dauphin's party had persuaded the King to reject. As she considered that the success of the Imperial arms would be the surest means of accomplishing this, she had established a secret correspondence with the Emperor, through the medium of one of her admirers, the Comte de Bossut-Longueval, and had resumed, from interested motives, the policy which her enemy Montmorency had embraced from religious fanaticism.

That Madame d'Étampes had constituted herself the champion of the younger brother against the elder and had the strongest reasons for wishing to see him established in an independent sovereignty, and that she used her influence with the King in favour of peace, is certainly true. But, though her enemies believed, or, at any rate, affected to believe, that she was at this time in communication with the Emperor, and though, after François's death, a prosecution for high treason was commenced against both her and Longueval, it is doubtful if there was any foundation for such a charge.

The stubborn defence of Saint-Dizier had given time for such troops as François had been able to raise to repel the invader to assemble on the left bank of the Marne between Châlons and Épernay.[03] The King had entrusted the command of this army to the Dauphin, with Annebaut as his counsellor and guide, giving him stringent orders to keep the river between himself and the Imperialists, and dispute the passage whenever it should be attempted, but at all hazards to avoid a decisive engagement, the loss of which must inevitably entail that of Paris.

It was a heavy responsibility for a young man of twenty-six, and, as the Dauphin's confidence in his lieutenant had been rudely shaken by the Roussillon expedition, he entreated his father to recall Montmorency, whose presence in this extremity would be of incalculable value. But the King "took it in very bad part that one should have dared to speak to him of this, and fell into great wrath against the generals who were with the prince, whom he suspected of having counselled this request."[04]

On the capitulation of Saint-Dizier, Charles sent to urge Henry VIII to march at once on Paris, but the English King, who preferred the easier conquest of maritime Picardy, declined to move until Boulogne and Montreuil had capitulated. His refusal placed the Emperor in a very serious position, for he could not advance on the capital until his ally was ready to co-operate with him, and his supplies were nearly exhausted. In these circumstances, he decided to open negotiations for peace on the basis of the proposals which François had rejected in 1540, and pourparlers were held at La Chaussée, between Châlons and Vitry. They were without result, however, and François despatched an ambassador to Henry VIII to endeavour to treat separately with him.

In the first days of September, Charles began to advance along the right-bank of the Marne. It was believed that he intended to lay siege to Châlons, but he passed by that town and encamped about two miles beyond it. His situation was daily becoming more critical, for the light cavalry of the Dauphin had stripped the country bare on both sides of the river, and the Imperialists were on the verge of starvation. He had, indeed, already decided to retreat towards the Netherlands, when he received information — through Madame d'Étampes's agent, Longueval, if we are to believe Beaucaire — that the Dauphin had established the magazines of his army at Épernay and Château-Thierry, neither of which places was fortified, and that the bridge of Épernay had not yet been destroyed.

When the Dauphin, who was encamped opposite Châlons, perceived that the Imperialists had no intention of halting to besiege the town, he despatched a body of troops to destroy the bridge and to burn or throw into the river all the provisions which they were unable to bring away. But the officer who commanded them failed to execute his task with the necessary promptitude,[05] and the Emperor, by a rapid march, forestalled him, and Épernay and Château-Thierry, with all the stores they contained, fell into the hands of the enemy.

On receiving this alarming intelligence, the Dauphin at once fell back on Meaux and La Ferté-sous-Jouarre, by which movement he covered the capital, but, at the same time, exposed himself to the danger of being taken in the rear by the English, should they advance from Picardy.

The panic of the Parisians when they learned that the enemy was within striking distance of the city was indescribable. Never in history had such terror been witnessed within its walls. "You would have seen," relates Paradin, "rich and poor, great and small, people of all ages and all conditions, flying and carrying away their property, by land, by water, by wagon; some dragging their children after them, others bearing old men on their shoulders." The Seine was so thickly covered with boats "that it was impossible to see the water of the river," and several of them, overloaded with passengers, sank with their cargoes. The same terror and confusion prevailed in the country round Paris, and the roads were blocked by flocks of sheep and herds of cattle, which their distracted owners were driving towards Normandy or the Loire. In their efforts to escape from the invader, many of the fugitives found that they had but exchanged one evil for another, for bands of robbers hung like vultures on the flanks of the procession and reaped a rich harvest amidst the general panic.[06]

However, the resolute attitude of the King, who had hastened from Fontainebleau to Paris immediately he was informed of the approach of the enemy, and who, accompanied by the Duc de Guise, rode on horseback through the streets, telling the citizens that "if he could not protect them from fear, he would protect them from harm," and that "he would die in their defence rather than live without saving them," produced an extraordinary effect. In a few hours the emotional Parisians had passed from craven terror to the most boundless confidence, and, declaring that "they were no longer afraid, since they had their King and M. de Guise for defenders," the whole city rose in arms.

Meanwhile, the Emperor had been sending urgent messages to his ally to advance, but Boulogne was now on the point of surrendering, and Henry VIII was not disposed to forgo so valuable a prize at the moment when it was within his grasp. Moreover, sickness was rife among his troops, and the Netherlands transport department, so far from being capable of supplying the army on a long march, had broken down under the easy task of attending upon a stationary camp within a few miles of the frontier.[07] To cross the Somme at this juncture, he declared, was impossible.

Charles was in even worse case. His army, a bad one, consisting chiefly of inferior landsknechts and very deficient in cavalry, was dwindling every day from sickness, and still more from desertion — for, by some accident, the money to pay the troops had not reached him — while that of the Dauphin was constantly increasing. An advance upon Paris, now that Henry VIII's co-operation, upon which he had based all his hopes of success, had failed, would have been an extremely hazardous undertaking. Nor did he really desire the dismemberment of the French monarchy, his only object being to cripple François, so that he might be free to deal with the German Protestants and the Porte.[08]

Accordingly, instead of following the course of the Marne, he retired on Soissons, which he took and sacked (September 12), and from there reopened his negotiations with the French Court. François was, of course, ready enough to treat, and on September 18 peace was signed at Crépy, the King's acceptance of the Imperial terms being precipitated by the news that on the 14th Boulogne had fallen, and the fear that Charles might be far less generously inclined when he learned that his ally was now free to co-operate with him.

By this treaty, all conquests made by either monarch since the truce of Nice were to be restored; François renounced his pretensions to Naples, and to the suzerainty of Flanders and Artois, and his claim to Tournai, while Charles waived his right to Burgundy and ceded Hesdin. The King, "like a penitent sinner," agreed to break off his alliance with infidels and heretics and to take up arms against them conjointly with the Emperor. The Duc d'Orléans was to marry either the Infanta Maria or the daughter of Ferdinand, Charles being granted four months to decide which of the two princesses he should give him. If he decided in favour of the Infanta, she should receive the Netherlands, though during the lifetime of the Emperor the young couple would only rule the provinces in his name. In this event, François engaged to abandon his claim to the Milanese; but, if Orléans left no heirs, the King and Emperor would resume their rights to the Milanese and Burgundy. If Charles selected his niece, she should be given the Milanese, the Emperor, however, reserving the fealty of the duchy until an heir was born. Orléans was to receive as an appanage Orléans, Angouleme, Bourbon, and Châtellerault, and François agreed to restore the territories of the Duke of Savoy so soon as either the Netherlands or the Milanese was conferred upon his son.

"This was to revert, after three years of immense sacrifices," observes Henri Martin, "to the system proposed by Charles V in 1540, rendered only a little more acceptable by a few concessions.[09]

The treaty, which was hailed with joy by Madame d'Étampes and the friends of Orléans, excited the liveliest indignation in the party of the Dauphin; and, as Sismondi points out, there can be no doubt that the Emperor, who was perfectly informed of the jealousy existing between the two brothers, foresaw that if he married the younger to a princess of his House and took him under his protection, he would become a dangerous rival to the elder when he ascended the throne.[10]

The Dauphin himself was particularly indignant. He had wished to fight, instead of negotiating, in the belief that his army, strengthened by the troops lately arrived from Piedmont, would have been more than a match for that of the Emperor, and could have crushed it before the English had had time to come to its aid; and, when he learned of the proposed aggrandizement of his younger brother at the expense of his future kingdom, his wrath knew no bounds. Although he did not dare to refuse his signature to the treaty, he subsequently entered a secret protest against it, at Fontainebleau, in the presence of Vendôme, Enghien, and François de Lorraine, Comte d'Aumale, eldest son of the Duc de Guise, in which he declared that he had only signed "pour la crainte et révérence paternelle" (December 12, 1544). His example was followed a few weeks later by the Parlement of Toulouse.[11]

Henry VIII at first refused to credit the report that his ally had made a separate peace with France without even consulting him; but the withdrawal of the Netherlands contingent from before Montreuil, and the news that the Dauphin's army was advancing by forced marches to the relief of the place, soon dispelled all doubts on that score. In great wrath, he ordered the Duke of Norfolk to raise the siege of Montreuil, and, leaving that nobleman with some 11,000 men to guard Boulogne, retired with the rest of his forces to Calais, where, on September 30, he embarked for England.

The King's departure nearly occasioned the loss of the one advantage which England had gained. He had given orders to Norfolk to occupy the heights behind the town and to remain there so long as the Dauphin was in the field. But the duke, for some unaccountable reason, instead of obeying his instructions, threw a garrison of 3,000 men under Sir Thomas Poynings into Boulogne and retired within the Calais Pale.[12]

On learning of this retrograde movement, Henry VIII wrote Norfolk a violently angry letter, ordering him to return immediately to the position which he had been instructed to hold. But it was then too late for the duke to repair his error, as the French, in overwhelming force, already lay between him and Boulogne.

As the hurried march of the Dauphin had obliged him to leave all his artillery behind, and the country for many miles round had been stripped bare by the invaders, it was impossible to undertake a regular siege; but, perceiving that several of the breaches which the English cannon had made in the ramparts still remained unrepaired, the prince resolved to hazard a night attack on the lower town, in which he ascertained that the invading army had left a large quantity of stores and the bulk of its heavy artillery. In the event of success, he would then be in a position to attempt the reduction of the upper town and the citadel. Accordingly, on the night of October 9-10, he despatched some 6,000 men — chiefly Gascons, Italians, and Swiss — under Tais and Fougerolles to make their way through the breaches into the town, while the rest of the army was to follow, after a short interval, to support them.

The storming-party, among whom was Montluc, who has left a long and vivacious account of the affair in his Commentaires, wearing their shirts over their armour, in order to recognise one another in the darkness,[13] readily effected an entrance, killed the sentinels, and broke into the neighbouring houses, "taking ther a great sorte of sicke persones and women in their beddes, whom without mercy they slew."[14] They encountered little resistance, for the garrison was quartered in the citadel on the higher ground, and there was no one to oppose them but half-armed servants, labourers, and camp-followers, who were quickly cut down or put to flight, though not before Tais had been severely wounded by an arrow.

So far the success of the camisado had been complete; the lower town was in possession of the French, and in a meadow near the ramparts Montluc saw all the artillery which Henry VIII had left behind him, thirty casks full of corselets, which the King had ordered from Germany for the equipment of his troops, and a great convoy of provisions.

Had ordinary precautions been observed, all would have been well; but Tais, suffering as he was, neglected to give any orders; Fougerolles seems to have been quite incapable of maintaining discipline, and, in the fond belief that the day — or rather the night — was theirs, and that the garrison would not venture to quit the citadel, and aware that there was a great quantity of booty in the lower town awaiting removal to England, the troops dispersed in all directions in search of plunder.

While they were engaged in this congenial occupation, they found themselves suddenly assailed by the camp-followers, who, having obtained arms from the fortress, had returned, thirsting for revenge, and, with shouts of "Kill! Kill!" flung themselves furiously upon them. Dispersed as they were in small parties, the French were cut down by scores, Fougerolles being amongst the slain; while before Montluc and the other officers could succeed in rallying them, Poynings and the troops from the citadel came pouring down the hill. Thereupon the French, fearing that their retreat would be cut off, gave way on all sides, and, followed by a murderous storm of arrows, made a rush for the breaches and gates, leaving some eight hundred dead and wounded behind them. Montluc was the last to quit the town, with three arrows in his buckler and a fourth through the right sleeve of his coat-of-mail, "which," says he, "I bore as my booty to my quarters."[15]

In his Commentaires, Montluc lays the responsibility for this fiasco, not upon the officers who commanded the camisado, but upon the failure of the Dauphin to advance to their support. "I do not know," he writes, "what was the reason the Dauphin did not march, but I shall always maintain that he ought to have done so; and I know also very well that he was not the only one responsible. However, it would be to engage in controversy to say more about the matter. Had they arrived, the English would not have known which way to turn. I discovered them to be men of very little courage, and believe them to be better at sea than on land."[16]

The Dauphin, on his part, was furious at the conduct of the storming-party, and at once proposed to repair the disaster by a general assault.[17] But it was pointed out to him that the day was breaking; that it would be impossible to approach the lower town without receiving the fire from the upper, and that the army was entirely without provisions and many of the soldiers so weak from starvation that they could scarcely carry their arms.[18] The prince eventually allowed himself to be dissuaded, and, after an attempt to surprise Guines had also ended in failure, disbanded his army and returned to Court.

Notes

(1) See his vivacious account of his interview with the King and the Council in his famous Commentaires, which Henri IV used to call "The Soldier's Bible."

(2) Martin du Bellay, Mémoires; Brantôme, les Duels.

(3) He had detached a small corps under Vendôme to harass the English should they advance from Picardy.

(4) Martin du Bellay.

(5) Because, according to Beaucaire, he had accepted a heavy bribe from Longueval.

(6) Paradin, Histoire de noire temps.

(7) J. A. Froude, "History of England."

(8) Mr. Edward Armstrong, "The Emperor Charles V."

(9) Histoire de France.

(10) Histoire des Francais.

(11) Recueil de Ribier, in Martin.

(12) Froude says that Norfolk acted "through timidity or mistake." It is difficult to understand how he could have mistaken such very positive orders.

(13) Froude says that they wore their shirts in order to imitate the smock-frocks of the English labourers who were engaged in repairing the fortifications, but this is not confirmed by any French authority. The practice was a very common one in night-attacks; hence the word "camisado."

(14) "Hall's Chronicle."

(15) Commentaires.

(16) The explanation offered for the Dauphin's inaction is that after the departure of the storming-party a terrific thunderstorm came on, which rendered the road between Boulogne and La Marquise, where the army lay, quite impassable.

(17) According to Froude, the Dauphin was "smarting under the taunts of Montluc," who "had accused him of cowardice." Well, the incident to which Froude refers occurred not on the night of the camisado, but on the following evening, as Montluc himself tells us. Moreover, Montluc's words can hardly be interpreted as an imputation upon the prince's personal courage, which was beyond dispute; and elsewhere in his Commentaires the writer declares that "Henri II was the best king whom God ever gave the soldiers."

(18) Martin du Bellay.

Chapter XIV

Strained relations between the King and the Dauphin — The Dauphin "sells the bear's skin before the bear is killed," and is betrayed by the Court jester Briandas — Singular sequel to a dinner-party — François and the princes at the siege of Boulogne — The plague breaks out among the besiegers — Mad freak of the Duc d'Orléans — He is carried off by the pestilence, and the Peace of Crépy is rendered, to all intents and purposes, null and void — Refusal of the Emperor to enter into a new treaty — François prepares for war, but cannot be persuaded to take any definite action — Pitiful moral and physical condition of the King — The accession of the Dauphin anticipated with hopefulness by both Court and people — Portrait of Henri by the Venetian Ambassador, Marino Cavalli — Singular reflections on the nature of the prince's relations with Diane de Poitiers — Death of the Comte d'Enghien in a snowball-fight — Charges of foul play against the Dauphin and the Guises considered — Effect upon the King of the death of Henry VIII — Last days of François I — He falls ill at Rambouillet — His admonitions to the Dauphin — His death

AFTER the Peace of Crépy, the relations of the Dauphin with his father, which since the prince's infatuation for Diane de Poitiers had been far from satisfactory, became more strained than ever. François, his ambition flattered by the brilliant alliance which Orléans was about to contract, no longer made any attempt to disguise his preference for his younger son, whose frank and open nature so closely resembled his own, and whose gaiety and good-humour often served to divert his hours of ennui or bodily suffering, and, while lavishing upon him every mark of affection, treated his heir with coldness and suspicion. The Dauphin, on the other hand, indignant at what he considered the King's betrayal of his interests in the recent treaty and the indifference and distrust which he showed towards him, confined himself more and more to his own circle of intimates, which was chiefly composed of the friends and adherents of the exiled Constable, seldom visited his father, save when the exigencies of etiquette required, and, though usually so reserved, could not always conceal his impatience to grasp the sceptre.

One day, the Dauphin had invited several of his favourite nobles to dinner in his apartments. The wine seems to have circulated pretty freely, for when presently the conversation happened to turn upon the time now obviously fast approaching when François, whose health was steadily failing, should exchange his throne for a gilded tomb at Saint-Denis, the Dauphin observed that, "when he was King, he should name such and such persons marshals or grand-masters, chamberlains or masters of artillery," adding that "he should recall the Constable, who had fallen into disgrace with the King."

The future Maréchal de Vieilleville, in whose Mémoires the anecdote is related, endeavoured to check this highly dangerous conversation. But the prince, in the belief that he was surrounded by none but friends, continued in the same strain, upon which Vieilleville, unwilling to be a party to his Royal Highness's indiscretion, requested permission to withdraw, telling the Dauphin that "he was selling the skin before the bear was killed." Soon afterwards, another person quitted the room; one who, though unobserved, or, at least, unheeded by the company, had heard every word that had been said. It was Briandas, one of the King's jesters, whose office gave him the privilege of wandering at will about the palace, and who had been sitting in the recess of a window. Hastening to François's apartments, where he found his master at table with Madame d'Étampes, the Cardinal de Lorraine, the Comte de Saint-Pol, Grand Chamberlain, Tais, Grand-Master of the Artillery, and several of the other grand officers of the Crown, and dropping the title of King, by which he was accustomed to address him, he exclaimed:

"God save you, François de Valois!"

"Hey, Briandas! Who has taught you that lesson?" inquired the King sharply.

'"Sblood! Thou art King no longer. I have just seen it proved. And thou, M. de Tais, art no longer Grand-Master of the Artillery; Brissac is appointed. And thou," turning to Saint-Pol, "art no longer Grand Chamberlain; Saint-André[01] is." And thus, one after another, he transferred all the grand offices of the Crown, when, once more addressing the astonished King, he added: "Zounds! thou wilt soon see Montmorency back; he will make thee do his will, and will teach thee to be a fool. Begone! I call God to witness, thou art a dead man!"

The King, more and more astonished, took the jester aside and bade him, as he valued his life, explain the meaning of his words. Briandas obeyed, and named all who had been present at the Dauphin's dinner. François, beside himself with wrath, summoned the captain of his Scottish Guard, bade him bring thirty or forty of his archers, and set off at their head for his son's apartments. But the Dauphin and his friends, warned that they had been betrayed, had prudently made their escape, and when the enraged monarch arrived upon the scene, he found only a number of the prince's attendants, who were engaged in removing the remains of the feast. Upon them and upon the plate and furniture, if we are to believe the Vieilleville Mémoires, the royal wrath expended itself. The terrified pages and lackeys were obliged to save themselves by leaping from the windows into the courtyard below, to be speedily followed by plate, glass, cutlery, tables, chairs, mirrors, tapestries, beds, in short, everything which the Dauphin's apartments contained. The King himself entered with zest into the work of destruction, and snatching a halberd from one of the guards, laid about him lustily.[02]

The Dauphin did not dare to appear before his father for more than a month after this affair, and it was only with great difficulty that François could be persuaded to pardon him; while all his guests on the occasion in question were banished from the Court.

The war with England continued for nearly two years after the Peace of Crépy, its chief incidents being a descent by the French on the Sussex coast and the Isle of Wight, and a second and equally unsuccessful attempt to recover Boulogne.

The operations round Boulogne, during which, it may be mentioned, François de Guise received the terrible wound which earned him the name of "le Balafré," had one important result: they delivered the Dauphin from the rivalry of his younger brother, and rendered the Peace of Crépy, to all intents and purposes, mere waste parchment.

The two princes had accompanied their father to Picardy, for François, notwithstanding his feeble health, wished to be in touch with the investing army, and had established himself for that purpose at the Abbey of Forêt-Moutiers, between Abbeville and Montreuil. In the last days of August, the plague broke out with fearful virulence among the besiegers; whole companies were swept away; and soon the men were dying in such numbers that it was no longer possible to bury them. Terror reigned among the survivors; but Orléans laughed at their fears, and one day, in a spirit of bravado, entered, with some young nobles as thoughtless as himself, a house in which several persons had recently succumbed to the pestilence, slashed open the beds with his sword, and scattered the feathers over himself and his companions, observing that "never yet had a Son of France died of the plague."

The sequel was a grim commentary on the boasted immunity of the Royal House. That same evening, the prince was taken ill. Three days later, he was dead.

With the untimely death of his much-loved son, François resumed his claims on the Milanese, and all the old subjects of controversy between him and Charles V, which the treaty had been intended to lay to rest, sprang into life again. The King despatched Annebaut and the Chancellor Olivier to Ghent to endeavour to persuade the Emperor to enter into a new treaty, which might replace that of Crépy; but they got nothing from Charles but vague assurances of his desire to remain at peace with France.

François thereupon began strengthening the fortresses on the northern and eastern frontiers, made peace with England (June 1546), and sought allies all over Europe. But he went no further, and though the Dauphin pressed him earnestly to invade Lombardy while the Emperor was occupied with his war against the League of Schmalkalde, he had lost the power of resolution and could not make up his mind to take definite action; and, on the advice of the fanatical Cardinal de Tournon, persecuted the Protestants in France in place of assisting their co-religionists in Germany.

And so amidst infamy at home and impotence abroad the reign which had once been so brilliant drew towards its close. The King in whose name the fires of persecution were kindled, and whose vacillation rendered futile all the efforts of French diplomacy, was perhaps more deserving of pity than of condemnation. Since the death of his younger son he had fallen into a state of profound melancholy; he was frequently a prey to the most cruel sufferings, which the remedies to which his physicians had recourse served only to aggravate, and his domestic life was embittered by the quarrels between Madame d'Étampes and Diane de Poitiers, the enmity of the former towards the Dauphin, and the fears which the lady was constantly expressing as to the fate which awaited her when she should lose her protector.

If Madame d'Étampes and her friends had good reason to fear a change of sovereigns, the majority of the Court and the great mass of the nation seem to have regarded the prospect with equanimity. For the Court was weary of the domination of a favourite who made and unmade Ministers, was suspected of intriguing with the enemies of France, and pursued with the utmost vindictiveness those who refused to abase themselves before her; and the nation was disgusted with the ruinous wars in which François's futile rivalry with a monarch so manifestly superior in statecraft to himself was perpetually involving the country. It was believed, too, that the quiet, reserved Dauphin, if he lacked those showy qualities which had so often served to conceal the grave defects in his father's character, possessed a good sense and intelligence which would more than atone for any shortcomings in this respect, and that, while upholding the honour of France abroad, he would abstain from wars of aggression, and make it his first study to repair the ravages which the ambition of François had wrought. That this belief was held not only by Frenchmen, but by foreigners who were well qualified to form an opinion of the Dauphin's character, is proved by a despatch which the Venetian Ambassador, Marino Cavalli, addressed in 1546 to his government, and which also contains some singular reflections on the nature of the relations between Henri and Diane de Poitiers.

"Thus," says he, after speaking of the two princes who had been cut off in the flower of their youth, "the fortune which he would have had to share with the other brothers seems reserved entirely for him who is now Dauphin, and whose qualities promise France the most worthy king she has had for two hundred years. This hope is, moreover, a great comfort for this nation, which consoles itself for present ills by the hope of prosperity to come. This prince is twenty-eight years of age; he is of a very robust constitution and of a rather melancholy disposition; very skilful in martial exercises; not very ready with his answers when addressed, but very decided and very firm in his opinions, and what he has once said he adheres to with great tenacity. His is not a very keen intellect, but men of that stamp are often the most successful; they are like autumn fruits, which ripen late, but which are, for that reason, better and more durable than those of the summer or the spring. He is in favour of maintaining a footing in Italy, and has never been of opinion that Piedmont should be given up, to which end he supports Italians who are discontented with the affairs of their country. He spends his money in a manner at once prudent and honourable.[03] He is but little addicted to women; his own wife is sufficient for him; while, for conversation, he confines himself to that of the Sénéchale of Normandy, who is forty-eight years of age. He entertains for her a sincere affection; but it is not thought that there is anything lascivious about it, and that this affection is like that between mother and son; and it is asserted that this lady has taken upon herself to instruct, correct, and counsel the Dauphin, and to urge him to all actions worthy of him."[04]

Cavalli's remarks concerning the nature of the relationship between the Dauphin and Diane are very curious, since they prove that the liaison must have been conducted with a circumspection very unusual in royal amours in the sixteenth century, and that many people found it difficult to believe that, in a Court full of young and beautiful women, the prince could really have selected as his mistress, in the sensual acceptation of the term, a lady old enough to be his mother. This pleasing illusion, however, did not long survive Henri's accession to the throne, as the despatches of Cavalli's successor at the French Court show.

Early in 1546, another grief overtook the sorrow-laden King. Since the death of the Duc d'Orléans, he had bestowed his affection on the Comte d'Enghien, the young victor of Ceresole, who had gathered round him the friends of the deceased prince and become the centre of opposition to the Guises, whom the Dauphin favoured, and whose greed, ambition, and audacity were beginning to cause François serious uneasiness.

In February, the King was staying at the Château of La Roche-Guyon, not far from Mantes. As there had been a heavy fall of snow, his Majesty suggested that the younger members of the Court should organise a snowball-fight. Sides were accordingly formed; one, led by the Dauphin and François de Guise, defending a house; the other, led by Enghien, besieging it. "During the combat," says Martin du Bellay, "some ill-advised person threw a linen-chest out of the window, which fell on the Sieur d'Enghien's head, and inflicted such injuries that he died a few days later."

Du Bellay does not give the name of the "ill-advised person"; but some writers, less reticent, name François de Guise, and have even gone so far as to declare that he acted by order of the Dauphin, while others assert that he was a certain Conte Bentivoglio, an Italian noble attached to the Guises, whom they accuse of having instigated the deed.

Nothing in the character of the future Henri II encourages the belief that he could have been the instigator, or even a party, to so foul a crime. Besides, what had he to gain by it? It is true that Enghien's brilliant victory at Ceresole, in such striking contrast to his own failures in Roussillon and Picardy, and the favour shown him by the King, scarcely disposed him to regard his young kinsman with a very friendly eye; but, in view of the circumstance that Henri's accession to the throne could not be long delayed, he had certainly no cause to regard him in the light of a rival whom it behoved him to get rid of. The accusation, indeed, is so monstrous that it would not be worth discussion had not Sismondi affected to credit it.

As for the Guises, as one of their biographers points out, the murder of Enghien would not only have been of no advantage to them, since he had four brothers to dispute with them the royal favour, but extremely hazardous, since these brothers would certainly have endeavoured to avenge him. Moreover, François de Guise sought the favour of the Dauphin and based his hopes of advancement on his accession to the throne, while it was with the King alone that Enghien was in favour. Finally, is it conceivable that Claude de Guise, the head of the House, without whose knowledge François would not have ventured to engage the family in so dangerous an enterprise, would have consented to the murder of the son of his own brother-in-law?[05]

That, notwithstanding the suspicious circumstances attending it, the death of Enghien was due merely to one of those acts of brutal horseplay so common at this epoch is scarcely open to question. Those who scattered the feathers from the beds of the plague-stricken over themselves and their companions, who were only prevented from strangling their friends by some one cutting the cord in the very nick of time, who placed the corpses of felons who had been hanged in the beds of Court ladies, were quite capable of throwing furniture at one another's heads without the least homicidal intention. The King himself, shortly after the Field of the Cloth of Gold, had narrowly escaped falling a victim to a similar accident, and carried a memento of it on his forehead in the shape of a scar.[06]

At the beginning of February 1547, while the Court was at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, François received the news of the death of Henry VIII, which had occurred on the 26th of the preceding month. "This death," writes Du Bellay, "occasioned the King much sorrow, not only because of the hope which he had entertained of making with him a firmer alliance than that which he had begun, but because they were almost of an age, and of the same constitution; and he feared that he must soon follow him. Those, moreover, who were about his person perceived that from that time he became more pensive than before."

Since the beginning of the winter the King's health had been much worse. Nevertheless, he still continued to hunt, observing to those who endeavoured to dissuade him that "when old and sick, he would be carried to the chase, and that perhaps when he was dead, he would wish to go in his coffin."[07] A strange restlessness now seized upon him, and, "as if seeking to escape from the death which was now so near, he travelled from Saint-Germain to La Muette, thence to Villepreux, and subsequently to Dampierre, Chevreuse, Limours, and Rochefort, revisiting all the places which he had loved, all the forests in which he had hunted in his vigorous youth."[08] Death, however, followed swiftly, and at Rambouillet, at which he arrived towards the end of March, he was compelled to take to his bed, and never left it again.

Persuaded that his end was at hand, he sent for the Dauphin and gave him his final admonitions, recommending him to diminish the taxes under which the nation had so long groaned; to retain as his Ministers Annebaut and Tournon, and to be guided in all things by their counsels; to exclude Montmorency from power, and, above all things, to beware of the Guises, "whose aim was to strip him and his children to their doublets and his people to their shirts."[09] Finally, he made a very pressing recommendation to his son in favour of Madame d'Étampes, vowing that he was altogether mistaken in believing that she had been hostile to him, and bidding him remember that she was a woman, and therefore entitled to consideration. The Dauphin asked his father for his blessing, and then "fell in a swoon upon the King's bed; and the King held him in a half-embrace and was unable to release him."[10]

Between two and three o'clock in the afternoon of March 31, 1547, François expired, in the fifty-fourth year of his age and the thirty-third of his reign, "having continued in excellent memory and sound intellect until the end of his days."[11]

Notes

(1) Jacques Albon de Saint-André (1525-72). He was a member of a very ancient but impoverished family of the Lyonnais, and had come to Court when very young. His bravery and insinuating manners gained him the friendship of the Dauphin, who attached him to his person and over whom he soon acquired great influence. "He was," says l'Aubespine, "an accomplished and cunning courtier, of very keen intelligence, a very skilful intriguer, very brave, and an adept at martial exercises. These good qualities were counterbalanced by all kinds of lasciviousness." François I disliked him intensely. We shall have a good deal to say about Saint-André presently.

(2) Mémoires de Vieilleville.

(3) The Dauphin's revenues were those of Dauphiné and Brittany; the latter province alone was worth to him 520,000 livres.

(4) Armand Baschet, la Diplomatie vénitienne.

(5) Forneron, les Ducs de Guise et leur époque.

(6) Tavannes; Forneron.

(7) La Ferrière, les Grandes Chasses au XVIe siècle.

(8) La Ferrière.

(9) De Thou.

(10) Despatch of the Imperial Ambassador, Saint-Mauris, to the Queen-Dowager of Hungary, Governess of the Netherlands, May 1547. The Ambassador says that François, after recommending his mistress to the Dauphin, observed: "Do not submit yourself to the will of others, as I have to her."

(11) Martin du Bellay. All contemporary writers are in accord in attributing to François a very edifying end. "I assure you," writes the Secretary of Finance, Bochetel, to l'Aubespine, "that for a century past no prince has ever died with feelings of such contrition and repentance"; while Ferronius tells us that he "died with so much piety and constancy, that, as his breath was escaping him, he repeated several times the name of God, and, when he could no longer speak, still made with his fingers the sign of the Cross."

Chapter XV

The accession of Henri II followed by a revolution of the palace — Montmorency is recalled and entrusted with the supreme direction of affairs — The Ministers of the late King are dismissed and the Council reorganised — Disgrace and persecution of Madame d'Étampes — Diane de Poitiers comes into her kingdom — Weakness of the new Sovereign, who allows himself to be governed by his favourites — Diane aspires to rule both the King and the kingdom — Impressions of the Imperial Ambassador, Saint-Mauris — Power of Montmorency — An amusing caricature — Diane, jealous of the authority of the Constable, resolves to pit the Guises against him, and then to hold the balance between the two parties — Aggrandizement of the Guises — Honours and benefits procured by Montmorency for his family — Favours bestowed on Saint-André — Shameless rapacity of the favourites, who "devour the King as a lion his prey" — Madame d'Étampes buys off the hostility of Diane — Her later years

SCARCELY had François I drawn his last breath than the new King hastened to throw to the winds the counsels which his father had given him, and, leaving the mortal remains of "le roi chevalier" to the care of Annebaut and the Cardinal de Tournon, with orders that they were to be removed to Saint-Cloud for the ceremonies of what was called "the quarantine," started for Saint-Germain-en-Laye, to meet his old friend Anne de Montmorency, who had arrived in all haste from Chantilly. The meeting between Henri and the Constable after their separation of nearly six years was, as might be expected, a very affectionate one, and, as the result of a conference of more than two hours, Montmorency left the royal presence chief of the Privy Council and charged with the direction of affairs. He had, moreover, been reinstated in his functions of captain of the fortresses of the Bastille, Vincennes, Saint-Malo, and Nantes, and in the command of his company of one hundred men-at-arms, which during his disgrace had been discharged by his lieutenants; had been restored to his offices of governor and lieutenant-general of Languedoc, of which he had been deprived, and had been offered a sum of 100,000 écus,[01] as compensation for the salaries which had been sequestrated. This he at first refused, but subsequently accepted.

The restoration of Montmorency to power and favour was only the first act of a complete revolution. "In the sixteenth century," says Decrue, "France presents in her government some resemblance to Turkey. One assists there at the disgrace of sultanas, at the replacing of grand viziers, at veritable revolutions of the palace. In 1547, it is not only a King who dies; it is a policy which changes, a court which disappears."[02]

Annebaut and the Cardinal de Tournon, who had enjoyed the late King's entire confidence, were both got rid of, Annebaut being deprived of his rank of maréchal de France, which he held together with the office of Admiral, and excluded from the Council; while Tournon was sent to Rome, under the pretext of maintaining French influence there. The remaining three members of the Royal Council, Gilbert Bayard, Duval, and Bochetel, were also eliminated, and the vacant places filled by the new King's uncle, the King of Navarre, his cousin, the Duc de Vendôme, and three of the Guises, the Cardinal Jean, the Comte d'Aumale, and Charles, Archbishop of Rheims, afterwards the celebrated Cardinal Charles de Lorraine. With them were associated the Constable; the Comte d'Harcourt, a kinsman of the Guises; the two Saint-Andrés, the younger of whom, a great favourite of Henri, replaced Annebaut as marshal; Robert de la Marck, Seigneur de Sedan, who had married one of the daughters of Diane de Poitiers; Humières, a cousin of Montmorency and gouverneur of the Children of France, the Chancellor Olivier, and two friends of the Constable, the patriarchal President Bertrandi[03] and the financier Villeroy. All real power, however, resided in the hands of the Constable, the Guises, and the younger Saint-André.[04]

Henri II had promised his dying father to protect Madame d'Étampes, perhaps with the intention of keeping his word, since he is said to have sent a kind message to the duchess, who, shortly before the King's death, had retired to her estate at Limours, and to have invited her to remain at Court. He soon found, however, that the reaction against the lady was too strong for him to resist, even if he had wished to do so; a jealous woman does not pardon, and, besides, Madame d'Étampes had mortally offended the Constable and many other influential persons, as well as Diane. When, ten days later, the duchess wrote to him to claim the disposal of her apartment at Saint-Germain, in which, by the way, Montmorency had already installed himself, his Majesty answered, rather maliciously, that the matter was one for Queen Eleanor[05] to decide, and that she must apply to her. Needless to say, nothing more was heard of the matter.

If the fallen favourite had cherished the illusion that her voluntary retirement from the scene of her former glory would serve to disarm her enemies, she was rudely undeceived. For soon she found herself assailed on all sides. The King sent her a peremptory order to surrender the jewels which his father had given her, and these souvenirs of François's munificence, which are said to have been worth 50,000 écus, he presented to Diane; the Chancellor drew up an indictment charging her with treasonable correspondence with the enemies of France during the invasion of 1544; her property was sequestrated, her servants were thrown into prison, and Longueval and Gilbert Bayard were arrested as her accomplices.

Nor did the persecution stop here, for her husband — that precious Jean de Brosse who had profited so much by her dishonour — accused her of appropriating the salary of his government of Brittany, and of ruining his family in order to enrich her favourite sister, Charlotte, Comtesse de Vertus, and, for greater security, caused her to be imprisoned.

People of every condition, we are told by the Imperial Ambassador, Saint-Mauris, seem to have combined together against her. "If the said lady," he writes, "were to appear in public, the people would stone her." And he expresses his belief that she will be brought to the block, "which is what is demanded and what she deserves."[06]

The arm which directed these attacks was, needless to say, the arm of Diane de Poitiers, the woman whose ambition Madame d'Étampes had thwarted, whose beauty she had criticised, and whose pride she had offended. After eleven years of waiting, Diane had come into her kingdom, and she was determined to enjoy her triumph to the full, and to satisfy at the same time her vindictiveness, her cupidity, and her love of power. Not only did she humble her rival to the dust and procure the disgrace of the Ministers and nobles who had supported the duchess against her, but she pursued with her vengeance a poor engineer, who, charged by the King to fortify a place on the frontier, had, acting presumably with the royal authority, cut down a few trees in a wood upon one of her estates, and compelled him to fly for his life to Franche-Comte. To celebrate his "joyous accession" Henri presented her with "the proceeds of the confirmation of all the estates in France,"[07] valued at 300,000 livres — a sum which, according to precedent, ought to have been reserved for Madame Marguerite, the King's sister, who, however, did not venture to dispute the matter with the all-powerful favourite. Indeed, if we are to believe Saint-Mauris, before Henri had been three months on the throne, the lady had extracted from him no less a sum than two million livres. Probably, however, Saint-Mauris exaggerates; even Ambassadors cannot always resist the temptation of drawing the long bow.

With all his faults, the new King was a conscientious man, who really desired to do his duty and to promote the happiness of his subjects. Matteo Dandolo tells us that at his coronation he was observed to be praying long and earnestly. Afterwards, Diane asked him what had been the subject of his petitions, to which he replied that he had prayed "that, if the crown which he was about to assume promised good government and would assure the happiness of his people, God would be mercifully pleased to leave it to him for a long time, but, if otherwise, that He would deprive him of it very quickly."[08] Left to himself or guided by disinterested Ministers, it is probable that he would have fulfilled the expectations of which Marino Cavalli speaks in the despatch we have cited in the preceding chapter. But he was "born to be governed rather than to govern,"[09] and was surrounded by greedy and ambitious favourites who thought only of exploiting him for their own selfish ends, and to whose interest it was to prevent the grievances of his subjects from reaching the King's ears; while his infatuation for the Sénéchale rendered him "entirely her subject and slave."[10]

And Diane was a Pompadour as well as a Maintenon, who aspired to govern the kingdom as well as the King, or, at any rate, to assist in governing it. Honoured, flattered, consulted and dreaded as never mistress had been before her time, she was at once Henri's trusted counsellor and the dispenser of his benefits and favours. For her there existed no secret of State. She insisted on being told everything, and she was told. Every matter which was discussed in the Council-chamber, every despatch which arrived from the French representatives at foreign Courts, was communicated to her; and scarcely had the King finished giving audience to one of the Ambassadors than he hurried off to tell his mistress all about it.

But let us allow the Imperial Ambassador to give in his own words his impressions of the new King and of this power behind the throne, whom he designates by the name of Silvius:

"As for the King, he continues to yield more and more to the yoke of Silvius [Diane] and has become her subject and slave entirely, a circumstance which his people lament. The said King had, on his own initiative, introduced the practice of giving audience after his dinner; now he does so no longer. And it is said that these Ministers of his have cleverly and cunningly put an end to this, in order that he may not hear the grievances of his subjects and get to the bottom of the evil and the good. Thus, when he has dined, the Constable or some other of his favourites approaches him, spoiling, in this way, the opportunity of speaking to him, and, apart from this, those of Guise[11] follow him so closely all day that it is difficult for any one to address him.

"He does not admit any one to his chamber until he is dressed, with the exception of the young Saint-André; no, not even the Constable or his physicians, of whom, he says, he has no need at present. His whole pleasure consists of playing tennis and sometimes following the chase. He is never heard to speak ill of any one. He expresses the wish to retain his own and to recover what he pretends belongs to his Crown, without encroaching on the possessions of others. If the matters under consideration are of importance, he attends the meeting of the Council of State after dinner, although that does not often happen; but, in the morning, he attends every day, for about two hours, to his affairs in his Privy Council.

"The worst thing is that the said King allows himself to be led, and approves everything which Silvius and his nobles advise, of which the people here complain, fearing that the King will remain always in that net. After dinner he visits the said Silvius. When he has given her an account of all the business he has transacted in the morning and up to that moment, whether with the Ambassadors or other persons of importance, he seats himself upon her lap, a guitar in his hand, upon which he plays, and inquires often of the Constable or of Aumale [François de Guise] if the said Silvius 'has not preserved her beauty,' touching from time to time her bosom and regarding her attentively, like a man who is insnared by his love. And the said Silvius declares that hereafter she will be wrinkled, in which she certainly is not mistaken. She takes every possible care to adorn herself becomingly, and devotes more attention to that than to anything that she does, in so much that the King's affection for her increases. Madame de Roye[12] has said so to the Queen-Dowager.

"The King has many natural good qualities, and one might hope much from him, if he were not so stupid as to allow himself to be led as he does. The Chancellor is in despair about it, saying that 'the women of to-day are worse than those of former times, and that they spoil everything.' It is said that not a soul dares to remonstrate with the King, lest he should offend Silvius, fearing that the said King will reveal it to her, since he loves her so intensely. It is said that the King has intimated that he was conscious of his weakness in the above-mentioned matter; but that he was so deeply involved, and so long since, that he would not know how to withdraw now, which, however, encourages the hope that, if he is able to see a way of escape, he will not fall back again.

"The said King has still much youthful spirit in him, which leads him to do many foolish things; among others, he makes lackeys and other vulgar persons play at tennis with him, such as Marchaumont[13] and l'Aubespine.[14] And lately, at Anet, he began to push those who were near the bank into the water, so that he nearly drowned a page whom he had thrown into the river.

"As for Silvius, since she has come into authority, she has changed her humour and her behaviour, and people find her, in short, very haughty and insolent; while, apart from that, she is endeavouring with her wiles and her attractions to remain in the good graces of the King, and to extract from him everything that she possibly can."

Great as was the influence of "Silvius" over the King, she had in the Constable a formidable rival in the royal favour. Anne de Montmorency was neither a great general, nor a great administrator, nor a far-sighted statesman, but he was a shrewd, hard-headed man and an indefatigable worker; and the value of such a Minister in a frivolous Court, where almost every one was given over to pleasure, the new Sovereign could not fail to appreciate. Moreover, the Constable was not only one of Henri's oldest friends, but had special claims to his consideration, since it was the late King's suspicion that he preferred the interests of the son to those of the father that had been mainly responsible for his disgrace.

On Henri's accession, indeed, it had seemed for a moment that all authority was to belong to Montmorency. "In the first days of the reign, the Constable took possession of the King, in such a way that he carried him off to all his residences, Chantilly, Écouen and l'Isle-Adam; and, wherever the prince was, no one could approach his person, save by his favour and introduction."[15]

So sudden a return of Fortune occasioned a good deal of surprise, and some people even ventured to protest against the complete surrender of authority which the King was making. A caricature appeared representing an ass saddled with a pack-saddle, with the bit under the tail, and bearing the following inscription: "Qui a mis mon mors ainsi? — Harry, Harry." All the copies which were discovered were seized and burned, and the authors severely punished; but it undoubtedly expressed the views of the bulk of the people.

The affection and unbounded confidence which Henri accorded the Constable were regarded with equal disapproval by Diane, though, of course, for very different reasons. Montmorency had been a useful friend to her in the first years of her favour, when she was waging a somewhat unequal battle with Madame d'Étampes and her allies, and she had been quite prepared to acquiesce in his restoration to all his honours and dignities. But that was an altogether different matter from allowing him to become "the pilot and master of the vessel of which she held the helm,"[16] and to exercise as much influence over the King's affairs as she did over the King's person. As ambitious as she was greedy, jewels, money, titles, and estates were not sufficient for her; she aspired, as we have seen, to govern at the same time Henri and his kingdom, and she could not endure the idea of sharing power with Montmorency.

The Sénéchale was too clever a woman not to be aware that, great as was her influence over the King, it had its limitations, and their long intimacy had also taught her that perhaps the most pronounced feature in her royal lover's character was his remarkable constancy in friendship. Cold and suspicious, Henri did not easily bestow his friendship, still less his affection; but, once given, it was seldom or never withdrawn, in which respect he offered a singular contrast to his father, whose favour had been as easy to lose as it was to secure. Thus, Diane did not for a moment cherish the hope that she would be able to get rid of Montmorency as Madame d'Étampes had succeeded in doing; nor is it probable that she had any desire for such an extreme measure, since she and the Constable were old friends, and she was aware that his services were indispensable to the King, both in the Council-chamber and in the field.

To attain her end, to secure the power for which she craved, she decided upon a much more skilful policy. Since to raise up an adversary against one's rival is generally the surest means of overcoming him, she would pit one against the Constable. If two parties were contending for the government of France, she flattered herself that she would be able to hold the balance between them.

But where was she to find any one of the necessary rank, ability, and courage to dispute the ground with the redoubtable Montmorency? Certainly not among the nobility, nor even among the Princes of the Blood, that is to say, the two branches of the House of Bourbon, the Vendômes and Montpensiers. Since the treason of the Connétable de Bourbon, the family of which he had been the head had fallen into a sort of discredit, from which it was only just beginning to recover; indeed, the favour shown by François I to the ill-fated Comte d'Énghien had been the first sign of returning favour. Moreover, its present chief, Antoine, Duc de Vendôme, who was to marry Jeanne d'Albret and become the father of Henri IV, and his uncle, the Cardinal Louis de Bourbon, were hopelessly mediocre. Antoine, though brave enough in war, was weak, voluptuous, and unstable; the cardinal, remarkable only for his indolence; while the duke's three brothers, Charles, Bishop of Saintes, Jean, Comte d'Enghien, and Louis, Prince de Conde, were as yet too young to play a prominent part, though Louis, who was now seventeen, was a youth of considerable promise. As for the younger branch, which was represented by two brothers, Louis, Duc de Montpensier, and Charles, Prince de la Roche-sur-Yon, it was entirely without influence or importance, and, in fact, remained in the shadow throughout the reign of Henri II.

And so Diane had perforce to turn to the Guises, those able and ambitious Lorraine princes against whom the late King had warned his son on his deathbed, and who were to play so prominent a part in all the troubles of the latter half of the century. Cadets of the sovereign dukes of Lorraine and descendants on the distaff side of the House of Anjou, the Guises enjoyed the advantages of foreign princes, and, aided by the impotence of the Bourbons, usurped those of the Princes of the Blood. Their wealth was considerable; they had claims to the kingdom of Naples, and through Claude de Guise's eldest daughter, Marie, widow of James V of Scotland and mother of the little Mary Stuart, they aspired to control the destinies of that country.

The two chiefs of the House, in France, at the time of the accession of Henri II, were the Duc Claude and his brother, the Cardinal Jean; the former, a good general and a skilful politician, who acted as intermediary between the King and the princes beyond the Rhine, and to whom fell the task of raising the landsknechts for the service of France; the latter, an adroit diplomatist, whom Montmorency had been obliged to tolerate as a colleague during his great favour under François I, and who was still more celebrated for his luxury, his extravagant generosity, and the license of his morals.

The duke appeared seldom at Court. Court life, indeed, was but little to his taste, since his habits were more those of a German than a Frenchman, and hunting and the pleasures of the table absorbed most of his leisure. Both he and his brother, however, were very much on the alert, though they were now ambitious for the rising generation of their House rather than for themselves.

And this second generation of the Guises, represented by six young princes, is destined to eclipse altogether the first. Like the first, it will give to France, in the persons of the two eldest, a soldier and a cardinal, "a lion and a fox,"[17] but their association will be much more formidable than that of their father and uncle, and will raise their family so high, that when the third generation comes on the stage, still with a soldier and a cardinal at its head, it can mount no higher save by ascending the throne itself.

The "lion and the fox" of the second generation were already much in evidence at Court. François "le Balafré" — from the double view of character and ability undeniably the greatest man whom the House of Guise produced — was high in favour with the King, and Henri's usual opponent at tennis, a game at which he greatly excelled. His brother, Charles, Archbishop of Rheims since the mature age of nine, "who had a keen and subtle mind, eloquence and grace, combined with dignity and an active and vigilant nature,"[18] had also not failed to make his way into the good graces of the new sovereign, and gave every promise of following in the footsteps of his uncle, the Cardinal Jean.

The fixed idea of these two young men — the elder twenty-eight, the younger twenty-three — was the aggrandizement of their House; and, like their father and uncle, they never for a moment lost sight of their interests or their pretensions. Both perfectly comprehended the advantage which they would derive from the friendship of Diane, and had been at pains to ingratiate themselves with the favourite; indeed, the archbishop, "one of the most accomplished in the art of paying court, had, for the space of nearly two years, constrained himself to the point of giving up his own table and dining at that of Madame (Diane); for thus she was called even by the Queen."[19]

To arrive at an understanding with the Guises was, then, an easy task for the Sénéchale. She and they together would put an effectual check on Montmorency's progress. But she was far from contemplating an offensive alliance with them, which should end in relegating the Constable to obscurity; she was much too astute for that. With the Constable out of the way, she foresaw that the Guises would become as great a menace to her influence as was the old Minister, probably more so, since they were his superiors in rank and perhaps in ability as well. No; her intention was merely to adjust the equilibrium between the two parties, and then to devote all her energies to maintain it, ready to ally herself with whichever side was for the time being the weakest, that is to say, which seemed to threaten the least danger to her own authority. It was the rôle which, in after years, Catherine de' Medici was to play between the Bourbons and the Guises; but Diane will play it more skilfully than Catherine.

Accordingly, the King, with the gracious approval of his mistress, proceeded to load this family, which had already received so much from the Crown, with honours and benefits. François and Charles were admitted to the Privy Council; the county of Aumale was erected into a duchy-peerage for the benefit of the former;[20] a cardinal's hat was procured for the latter; their barony of Joinville was erected into a principality, their lordships of Mayenne, Elbeuf and Chevreuse into marquisates; and Diane married her elder daughter, Louise de Brézé, to Charles, Marquis de Mayenne, the third of the Guise brothers, and obtained for him a grant of all the estates in France which were held by persons without an absolute title to them, and all the unoccupied lands, which belonged de jure to the Crown — a gift which not only deprived the Treasury of a valuable source of revenue, but led to the dispossession of a number of nobles, communes, and private persons, and to much harshness and injustice.

While the adversaries which Diane had decided to raise up against him were being thus aggrandized, the Constable was far from idle, and allowed no opportunity to pass of advancing the importance of his family and enriching his relatives and friends. He had five sons and seven daughters to provide for, besides numerous nephews and nieces, and he did his duty nobly by them all.

Though the eldest of the sons, François, was but seventeen years old at the accession of Henri II, their father pushed their fortunes vigorously, and procured them the posts of gentlemen of the Chamber or pages of honour while they were awaiting military appointments, for notwithstanding that he was so devout a Catholic, none of them was intended for the Church. When, in 1548, he entered, by the death of his brother the Baron de Rochepot, into possession of all the vast estates of the Montmorency family, his eldest son received permission to bear the name of "Monsieur de Montmorency," the second, Henri, took the title of Baron de Damville, while the other three — Charles, Gabriel, and Guillaume — were known respectively as the Seigneurs de Méru, de Montbéron, and de Thoré. Of the Constable's seven daughters, four were provided with husbands, selected from the greatest and wealthiest families of the kingdom; the other three entered religion, ready to become abbesses.

Nor had his nephews and nieces any reason to complain. The post of Colonel-General of Infantry was created for Gaspard de Coligny, his sister's second son; the hand of a rich heiress bestowed on his younger brother, François d'Andelot, and an equally advantageous marriage arranged for their half-sister, Mlle, de Mailly. Governments, estates, benefices, pensions, companies of men-at-arms. Such were the gifts which the King, at the instance of the Constable, distributed right and left among Montmorency's relatives and friends.[21]

The insinuating M. de Saint-André naturally took care not to be overlooked while all these good things were going round. He received, as his share of the spoil, the post of Grand-Chamberlain, promised him on the occasion of the famous dinner-party which had such a singular sequel, very considerable gifts at the expense of the royal demesne, and the bâton of marshal of France, which the Constable was persuaded to resign in his favour, in order to compose a very pretty quarrel between him and Diane, who claimed the bâton which Saint-André had been promised for her son-in-law, Robert de la Marck. Of that lady's numerous acquisitions we shall speak in a subsequent chapter.

Henri's favourites stood like a bodyguard around the throne to prevent any one else approaching it. Enormous as were the benefits which they received, they were never satisfied, for their greed was absolutely insatiable, and the Vieilleville Mémoires[22] accuse them of stooping to the basest methods, and even to crimes, in their endeavours to gratify it:

"If one inquires why this great King was unable to advance a worthy and deserving servant whom he loved [Vieilleville himself], in accordance with his own inclination, it is easy to reply that it was out of the question, when those who had taken possession of him were unabashed, and vying with one another in their insensate desire to aggrandize their families. For estates, dignities, bishoprics, abbeys, offices, no more escaped them than do the flies the swallows. There was not a choice morsel which was not snapped up in a moment. And, for this purpose, they had, in all parts of the kingdom, paid agents and servants to give them notice of all the deaths which occurred, so that they might demand any vacant inheritance or confiscated estate. Further, they had doctors in Paris, to which all the great people in France resort, who did not fail to keep them informed as to the progress of the maladies of their patients, when these happened to be rich, and very often, in consideration of a gift of a thousand écus or a benefice of a thousand livres a year, caused them to die. So that it was almost impossible for this good-natured prince to extend his bounty in other directions. For there were four who devoured him as a lion his prey, until they had wrested from him even what he had given to his domestics, in order to provide for their own, to wit, the Duc Claude de Guise, who had six children [sons], whom he made very great; the Constable, who had twelve; the Duchesse de Valentinois,[23] with her daughters and sons-in-law, and the Maréchal de Saint-André, who was surrounded by a great number of nephews and other relations, all poor, whom he himself had to provide for. And, if the King desired to bestow a benefice upon any one else, he was obliged to lie to them and to say, when they demanded it of him, that it was already disposed of. Even then, so impudent were they, that they would argue with him that this could not be, alleging that they had received immediate information when the vacancy occurred."

The chronicler relates an instance of this. One day, the Abbey of Saint-Thierry-lez-Rheims became vacant. It was a choice morsel, for, besides a revenue of some 12,000 livres, there was an extensive vineyard, noted for the abundance and excellence of the white wine which it yielded; and no sooner did the news reach the Court than the Duc de Guise, the Constable, and Diane all three applied for it simultaneously. The duke wanted it for his second son, Charles, though that young gentleman was already loaded with benefices; Montmorency for his eldest nephew, Odet, Cardinal de Châtillon, and Diane for a relative of her late husband. This appears to have been the first which the King had heard about the vacancy, but, as his favourites of late had been more than usually importunate in their demands, and he was also anxious to provide for Vieilleville, who, we are assured, had never yet asked for anything, he answered that, much to his regret, he was unable to oblige any of them, since, two hours earlier, he had despatched a courier to Saint-Michel-en-Bois to inform Vieilleville that he had granted the abbey to him. The "three harpies" retired grumbling, whereupon the King sent for his secretary and ordered him to lose not a moment in advising the new holder of his good fortune.

Carloix adds that his master, disgusted with the rapacity of the favourites, and "desirous of showing them how a gentleman should behave when honoured by the King's generosity," gave the abbey to his brother, who was in Holy Orders, without retaining any part of the revenues; the furniture and tapestry to the relatives of the late abbot; the linen, which happened to be of very fine texture, to Diane and two ladies to whom he was related; the wine in the cellars to the nobles of the Court, and the corn in the granaries to the monks and the poor. Two greyhounds, reputed to be of great swiftness, were all that he kept for himself. Wonderful disinterestedness!

If many persons had reason to complain of the shameful rapacity of the favourites, a few found in it cause for thankfulness. Among these were Madame d'Étampes and her friend Longueval. In consideration of the surrender to her of the duchess's estate of Benne, the new left-handed queen consented to forgo the rest of her revenge and to leave her fallen rival in possession of the greater part of her property. On his side, Longueval "sold" his lordship of Marchais, near Laon, to the Cardinal Charles de Guise, who thereupon engaged to prove his innocence to the King, which he did so effectually, that the prosecution which was pending against him for treasonable correspondence with the Emperor was allowed to drop, and he was set at liberty. He could not, of course, have been brought to trial without involving Madame d'Étampes, and the King, according to Varillas, was persuaded by the cardinal "not to stain the beginning of his reign by a signal and gratuitous affront to the memory of his father, by abandoning to the vengeance of Justice the object whom he had so tenderly loved for nearly twenty-two years."[24]

Madame d'Étampes lived to see the last of the Valois upon the throne, though very little is known of the rest of her life. The lawsuit which her husband had brought against her dragged on for some years, and in the course of it her relations with the late King were ruthlessly exposed. Then Henri II, suddenly seized by a tardy consideration for his father's memory, put a stop to the proceedings,[25] so that its only result was to stir up a great deal of mud and put many thousands of livres into the pockets of the gentlemen of the long robe.

In 1565, the Duc d'Étampes, who "was wanting in that delicacy of soul which assures domestic happiness,"[26] and appears to have been separated altogether from his wife for the past fifteen years, died, leaving a will in which he stated that "since the duchess had been unwilling to occupy the place of a wife, she was unable to demand her dowry."

After her husband's death, Madame d'Étampes, who was henceforth free to reside where she wished, retired to the Château of Heilly, which was now the property of her nephew, Jean de Pisseleu, and here she passed the rest of her life. She had no child either by her husband or by the King, but she seems to have been much attached to her nephews and nieces and to have been very generous to the poor. She died in September 1580. Mézeray asserts that, during her later years, she was "much addicted to the exercises of the Protestant religion, and protected with all her power those who professed it"; but this statement, like a good many others made by that historian, appears to be without foundation.

Notes

(1) The écu, or crown, at the time of the accession of Henri II, represented two and a quarter livres, or about ten francs in money of to-day.

(2) Anne, Duc de Montmorency, Connétable et Pair de France, sous les Rois Henri II, François II et Charles IX.

(3) Jean Bertrandi, or Bertrand (1470-1560), had been First President of the Parlement of Toulouse, but in 1538 he became, through the influence of Montmorency, Third President of the Parlement of Paris. On the disgrace of Lizet in 1550, he was appointed First President, and shortly afterwards the Seals were entrusted to him, though Olivier still retained the title of Chancellor. Having lost his wife, he abandoned the Law for the Church, was appointed Bishop of Cominges, then Archbishop of Sens, and, finally, in 1557, at the age of eighty-seven, was created a cardinal.

(4) The King's Council, or le Conseil des affaires politiques, in which questions of State and finance were discussed, must not be confounded with the Conseil d'État, which occupied itself with questions of administration. The Conseil d'État was composed of the members of the King's Council, with the Cardinals de Bourbon, de Châtillon, de Ferrara, and du Bellay, the Bishops of Soissons and Coutances, the Ducs de Guise, de Nevers, and d'Étampes, and the Président Raymond. Of these, the Cardinal de Châtillon, the Bishop of Coutances, and the Ducs de Nevers and d'Étampes had been summoned to it by Henri II. Étampes appears to have been indebted for his selection to the fact that he was now on very bad terms with his wife.

(5) A few weeks after the death of François I, Queen Eleanor, who had been almost as complete a cypher at the Court of France as her predecessor, poor Queen Claude, retired to Brussels. Her last act before leaving France was to procure the disgrace of one of the minor mistresses of the late King.

(6) Despatch of May 1547 to the Queen-Dowager of Hungary, Governess of the Netherlands. This and another despatch of Saint-Mauris, written in the following month, are preserved in the Royal Archives at Brussels. Both are of great length and contain a great deal of curious information about the first few weeks of Henri's reign. They have been published by M. Charles Paillard, in the Revue historique in 1877, but appear to be very little known.

(7) Saint-Mauris. The Ambassador means the tax paid on the accession of a new sovereign by the holders of venal offices, and by the corporations of towns who wished to be confirmed in their privileges and immunities.

(8) Despatch of Matteo Dandolo, in Armand Baschet, la Diplomatie vénitienne.

(9) Beaucaire.

(10) Saint-Mauris.

(11) That is to say François de Guise, Charles, Archbishop of Rheims, who later in 1547 was created a cardinal, and Claude, who was about to marry Louise de Brézé, Diane's younger daughter.

(12) Madeleine de Mailly, widow of Charles, Seigneur de Roye, Comte de Roncy, and mother of Éléonore de Roye, Princesse de Condé.

(13) Côme Clausse, Seigneur de Marchaumont in Picardy. He was Henri II's secretary.

(14) Probably a relative of Claude de l'Aubespine, Secretary of Finance. For the Secretary himself could scarcely be described as a "vulgar person."

(15) Vieilleville, Mémoires.

(16) Tavannes.

(17) Henri Martin.

(18) Castelnau, Mémoires.

(19) L'Aubespine, Histoire particulière de la Cour de Henri IIe, in Cimber and Danjou.

(20) The Parlement of Paris protested vigorously against this erection, on the somewhat singular ground that, as Charlemagne was supposed to have created twelve peers in remembrance of the twelve judges of Israel and the twelve apostles of Our Lord, the number ought not to be increased. Apart from the life-peerages of Alençon and Berry, possessed by the Queen of Navarre, there were at this time seven lay peerages in France, viz.: Flanders, Artois, Eu, Nevers, Vendôme, Guise, and Montpensier.

(21) Decrue, Anne, duc de Montmorency.

(22) It should be remembered that the Mémoires de Vieilleville were not written by the marshal himself, but by his secretary, Vincent Carloix.

(23) Diane de Poitiers was created Duchess de Valentinois in October 1548.

(24) Varillas, Histoire de François Ier.

(25) Henri, however, had already given evidence in person in favour of Jean de Brosse.

(26) Desgardins, la Duchesse d'Étampes.

Chapter XVI

Obsequies of François I — The remains of the deceased King and those of the Dauphin François and the Duc d'Orléans conveyed to Saint-Denis — Henri II incognito watches the passage of the funeral cortège through Paris — La Châtaigneraie and Jarnac — An innocent remark of the latter is maliciously misconstrued, and he is accused of having misconducted himself with his step-mother, Madeleine de Pontguyon — Fury and despair of Jarnac — Henri II (then Dauphin) suspected of having originated the report, though the real culprit is probably Diane de Poitiers — Embarrassing position of the prince — La Châtaigneraie takes the responsibility upon himself, and he and Jarnac apply to François I for permission to fight a judicial duel — The King forbids them to meet, but, on the accession of Henri II, La Châtaigneraie renews his request — Cartels of the two adversaries — The duel is sanctioned by Henri II — Preparations of Jarnac — Arrogance of La Châtaigneraie, who, in anticipation of an easy victory, invites the Court to a sumptuous supper after the combat — The King makes no secret of his sympathies for La Châtaigneraie — The duel is fought at Saint-Germain in the presence of Henri II and the whole Court — "Le coup de Jarnac" — Extraordinary behaviour of the King — Death of La Châtaigneraie

TOWARDS the middle of May, Henri II visited Paris for the first time since his accession to the throne, to transact some business of importance with the Chancellor and the law officers of the Crown. He came, however, in a very unostentatious manner, since it was customary for a new sovereign to dispense with all public ceremony until his predecessor had been conveyed to his last resting-place at Saint-Denis.

The obsequies of François were, of course, preceded by the lying in state. A wax effigy representing the deceased King was laid upon a state bed at Saint-Cloud, in a room magnificently decorated with his arms and colours, where it remained for forty days, all who desired to pay a last tribute of respect being admitted to see it. The people, we are told, made no distinction between the real and the imaginary, and wept copiously as they filed past the counterfeit presentment of their late sovereign.

As the Dauphin François and the Duc d'Orléans had not been interred in state, Henri II decided to have their bodies conveyed to Saint-Denis at the same time as that of his father. No effort was spared to give all possible pomp and magnificence to the ceremony, which cost the King more than 500,000 livres, and perhaps as much to the Parisians.

On May 21, the three coffins, each surmounted by the recumbent effigy of its occupant, were conveyed to the Church of Notre-Dame-des-Champs, which was then outside the city walls. Here they lay until the following morning, when they were brought to the Porte Saint-Jacques, where they were received by the Provost of the Merchants and the other municipal officials, who, in accordance with their ancient privilege, acted as pall-bearers. The funeral car of the Duc d'Orléans headed the procession, then came that of the Dauphin François, and lastly that of the King. "Before and behind walked an infinitude of persons of all conditions, for the most part with lighted torches in their hands," while dense masses of spectators lined the streets. All were in deep mourning, with the exception of the Presidents and Counsellors of the Parlement, who appeared in their scarlet robes, "they being exempted from wearing mourning, because, under the authority of the King, they are the first and sovereign administrators of justice, and the Crown and Justice never die."[01]

Thus, the procession proceeded to Notre-Dame, where the funeral service was celebrated, the sermon being preached by Pierre Chastel, Bishop of Maçon. Then the mourners dispersed to dine, to reassemble again at mid-day and escort the coffins to Saint-Denis.

Although it was not customary for the new King to appear at the obsequies of his predecessor, Henri II desired to witness the procession to Notre-Dame, in order to see that everything was carried out in accordance with his wishes. He accordingly gave orders for a room to be engaged for him in a house in the Rue Saint-Jacques, to which he repaired, accompanied only by Saint-André and Vieilleville. As he, of course, did not wish to be recognised, he had exchanged the violet costume which was the usual mourning of the Kings of France for one of black, and gave strict injunctions to his companions to avoid making any gesture of respect and to address him as though he were their equal.

When the King perceived the funeral cars approaching, "he wished to withdraw from the window, for his heart was beating violently, and he began to be very troubled and grieved, even to the point of tears." Perceiving this, Vieilleville approached and told him that he ought to be more grateful to the Divine Providence, which had called him to the throne before his time, and contrary to the course of Nature, by the death of his elder brother in youth, and of his father when still in his prime, and that, instead of mourning for the late King, he should rather seek to imitate his virtues. "As for M. d'Orléans, Sire," he continued, "you ought not to permit a single regret on his account to enter your heart, for there has not been for the last three hundred years a prince more pernicious for France; and you may be very sure that God has taken him away for the common tranquillity of the State, since if he had lived to marry the daughter or niece of the Emperor and to receive, on his marriage, the Netherlands or the duchy of Milan, you would have had in him a mortal enemy and greater than even the Dukes of Burgundy were in former times. For I call God to witness, and I swear to your Majesty, that he never loved or esteemed you."

Notwithstanding these arguments, his Majesty seemed still unable to master his emotion, whereupon Saint-André begged Vieilleville to inform the King how M. d'Orléans had behaved on a certain occasion, ten years before, at Angouleme. Henri inquired what he had done, when Vieilleville said:

"Do you recollect, Sire, when, owing to the foolhardiness of La Châtaigneraie, Dampierre, and Dandouin, the late Dauphin and yourself fell into the Charente, and the boat turned over upon you? Genlis rushed off to tell the King that you were both drowned; the whole Court was in consternation, and the King, overwhelmed with grief, retired to his chamber. M. d'Angoulême — as the Duc d'Orléans was then called — was seized with such joy that he was quite overcome by it. But, almost at the same moment, I myself arrived in all haste, and knocking, without the customary respect, at the King's door, told him that you were both alive. The King, who nearly devoured me with embraces, ordered me to convey the news at once to M. d'Angoulême. I knocked at his door with the same freedom, and called out to him: 'Good news, Monsieur! Your brothers are alive; you will soon see them, for the Swiss are carrying them home.' If I had come, Sire, to undertake something contrary to his service, nay, against his honour, he could not have received me worse. Having informed me very coldly that he was very glad, and begged me to return and inform the King that he would come and join him in giving thanks to God, he turned to Tavannes,[02] and, without giving me time to leave the room, said: 'God's malediction on the news! I renounce God; I shall never be anything but a nonentity!' He was afterwards overtaken by a severe attack of fever, which very experienced doctors attributed to the sudden transition from joy to so profound a sorrow, these two contrary feelings having waged a terrible war in his very entrails. The late King and yourself watched over him, but, if you had known the origin of his illness, perhaps you would not have felt so much grief or shed so many tears."

Upon hearing this, Henri's grief gave way to anger. "Oh! what an evil disposition and what a wicked heart my brother must have had!" he exclaimed. "I assure you that my chief regret was on his account, for the late King, as you know, was so grievously tormented by his malady that I wept over him hundreds and hundreds of times before his death. As for the Dauphin, I should have been too morbidly inclined if I had not forgotten his loss, seeing the long time that has elapsed since his death. But, in regard to him [the Duc d'Orléans], I could not, after not more than sixteen months, banish him from my memory. Besides, he had assured me of his friendship, and had sworn, too, that, when he had been invested with the estates of his appanage and had gained the hearts of the subjects of the dominions which his future bride would bring him, we should share Christendom between us."

"It was all the more treacherous," interrupted Saint-André, "to beguile you with such a promise, because he had formed a league with the Prince of Spain to attack you after your fathers[03] were dead, and, if he had lived, he would have had abundant means to do it."

The King inquired who had been the intermediary between his brother and Philip. "Madame d'Étampes and the Comtesse Arenberg,"[04] replied Saint-André, "who, under the pretext of the marriage, maintained a correspondence and were, so to speak, the bankers of these two princes." And he promised that that very day he would show the King the cypher which they had employed in this correspondence, and which he had obtained from one of the late duke's secretaries named Clairefontaine. He added that Orléans had promised to make Madame d'Étampes, who had made a will in his favour, Governess of the Netherlands, in the event of his marrying the Infanta. "If," observed he, laughing, "M. d'Orléans were still alive, the Duc d'Étampes would not now be holding his wife a prisoner, and you, Sire, would not have taken from her those diamonds worth 50,000 écus, so celebrated all over France, since the Emperor's daughter would be wearing them."

"By these and similar arguments," writes Carloix, who has probably drawn upon his imagination a little freely in recording the above conversation, though its substance is no doubt true enough, "Saint-André and Vieilleville, who were called two fingers of his hand, consoled their master and dissipated his grief so effectually that he resumed his place and looked without flinching at the three effigies as they passed by. But when that of the Duc d'Orléans, which was the first, passed, he was unable to refrain from observing, as if in disdain, 'See, there is the nonentity who leads the advance-guard of my felicity!' making allusion to the three cars, which represented the advance- and rear-guard of a battle."

Between the obsequies of François I and the coronation of his successor, which had been fixed for July 25, occurred one of the most dramatic episodes of the sixteenth century — the celebrated judicial duel of Jarnac and La Châtaigneraie.

The quarrel which led to this combat dated from the last years of François I and was an echo of the enmities which the rivalry of the Duchesse d'Étampes and Diane de Poitiers had aroused; indeed, the duellists were regarded as the respective champions of the old and new Courts, rather than as persons meeting to decide a private affair of honour. Some account of the principals may not be without interest.

François de Vivonne, Seigneur de la Châtaigneraie, was the second son of André de Vivonne, Grand Sénéchal of Poitou, and was at this time about twenty-six years of age. The Vivonnes were a branch of the House of Brittany and bore the ermine on their coat-of-arms. At the age of ten, La Châtaigneraie had been appointed page of honour to François I and had quickly succeeded in gaining the favour of that monarch, who called him "mon filleul," or "mon nourrisson." The Dauphin was even more attached to him than the King, for, with an eye to the future, La Châtaigneraie paid assiduous court to both the prince and Diane; and in the campaign of 1543 he had the honour of bearing Henri's banner, which, when there was any fighting to be done, "he detached from its shaft and wrapped round his body like a scarf, in order that he might be at liberty to use his hands."

From his childhood, La Châtaigneraie had shown a remarkable aptitude for martial exercises. He had studied at Rome under the celebrated maître-d'armes, Patenostrier, and at Milan under Tappe, and had become one of the best swordsmen of his time. He also excelled in wrestling and "could throw the best Breton wrestler"; and in the several duels in which he had taken part he always endeavoured to close with his adversary, when he would seize him round the body, so as to render it impossible for him to use his sword, and then bear him to the ground and poniard him through the joints of his armour. He was an excellent soldier and had served with distinction in Italy and the Netherlands, and he appears to have been a good-natured, open-handed man, always ready to do a friend a service; but he was a terrible braggart, perpetually boasting about his achievements and ever ready to pick a quarrel with those who refused to accept him at his own valuation, so that he was as much feared as he was loved.

"My uncle," writes Brantôme,[05] "was very much feared, for he had a very good and very ready sword. He was extremely strong, neither too tall nor too short, and of a very fine figure, vigorous and a little fleshy. Although he was rather dark, he had a very fine complexion, delicate and very agreeable, and for this in his time was he beloved by two very great ladies. In order that he might be able to succeed in life, his father, who loved him tenderly, was accustomed in his infancy to make him to take with everything that he eat powdered gold, steel, and iron. This diet had been recommended to the Sénéchal by a famous doctor of Naples, when he was there with King Charles VIII."

Guy de Chabot, eldest son of Charles de Chabot, Seigneur de Jarnac, de Monlieu, and de Sainte-Aulaye, and brother-in-law of Madame d'Étampes, one of whose sisters, Louise de Pisseleu, he had married, was a very different kind of man. Like La Châtaigneraie, whose senior he was by some ten years, he had been brought up in the King's Household, had gained the favour of François I, who called him familiarly Guichot, and had served with distinction in the wars. But, although his courage was undoubted, he had nothing like the reputation in the use of arms and in bodily exercises which the other had acquired, and was of a quiet and reserved disposition, fond of study, and very punctilious in the discharge of his religious duties. In person, he was tall and slight, with pleasant, regular features, and enjoyed considerable popularity with the ladies — a fact of which he did not fail to take advantage, insomuch that "love-affairs formed his almost exclusive occupation." He bore at this time the title of Seigneur de Monlieu, and did not assume that of Jarnac until after the death of his father, some years later; but as historians almost without exception refer to him by the latter title, we shall follow their example.

GUY CHABOT, SIEUR DE JARNAC

FROM THE DRAWING BY FRANÇOIS CLOUET IN THE BIBLIOTHÈQUE NATIONALE

The branch of the Chabot family to which Jarnac belonged was not overburdened with wealth, but his father had married en secondes noces Madeleine de Pontguyon, a considerable heiress; and, as Jarnac was very attentive to his step-mother, and the latter was an extremely generous woman, the young man was enabled to maintain an excellent appearance at Court and was noted for the elegance and richness of his dress.

One day, at Compiegne, the Dauphin happened to remark, rather brusquely, to Jarnac, "How comes it, Guichot, that you are able to make so brave a show with the revenues which you have, for I know they are not extensive?" Jarnac, somewhat embarrassed by the question, replied that his step-mother "kept" him and gave him everything he required. The remark was a perfectly innocent one, but it was deliberately misconstrued in the most cruel manner, and a day or two later Jarnac learned that it was reported all over the Court that he had boasted of having received the favours of his stepmother.

The young man's horror and indignation at so atrocious an accusation can be imagined. After publicly declaring that whoever had asserted or wished to maintain anything of the kind was "a malicious villain and had wickedly lied," he rushed off to his father's Château and, throwing himself on his knees before the old nobleman, protested in the most passionate terms against the criminal interpretation which had been put upon his words. Then, having succeeded in convincing his father of his innocence, he returned to the Court, burning to avenge the injury which had been done him.

The Dauphin found himself in an exceedingly embarrassing position. Though he is generally accused of being the author of the calumny, it seems more probable that the culprit was Diane de Poitiers, to whom Jarnac's words had doubtless been repeated, and who had seen in them an excellent opportunity of humiliating Madame d'Étampes through her brother-in-law, and that the prince felt unable to disclaim the responsibility. However that may be, now that Jarnac had publicly denied the accusation, it was impossible for him to ignore the matter, and, unless some one came forward to take the quarrel upon himself, he would play a most humiliating role, since his rank, of course, prevented him from maintaining his cause with his sword.

It was at this moment that La Châtaigneraie intervened. La Châtaigneraie had until now been on very friendly terms with Jarnac, with whom he had served in several campaigns, but he was not the kind of man to allow friendship or honour or such a small thing as a woman's reputation to stand in the way of his interests; and he foresaw that, by rescuing his future sovereign from the cruel predicament in which he was placed, he would establish claims on his gratitude which it would be impossible for him to overlook.

He therefore now came forward and publicly declared that he was prepared to answer Jarnac, "since it was to himself, and to himself alone, that Guichot had cynically boasted of the culpable conduct which he had thought proper to deny later."

The affair might, of course, have been settled by an ordinary duel, but both Jarnac and La Châtaigneraie, for different reasons, desired to invest their encounter with as much publicity as possible, and accordingly applied to the King to permit a judicial combat. During the past half-century duels of this kind, which could not take place without the authorisation of the Sovereign, had been very rarely resorted to, but they still remained part of the feudal tradition and public law of the kingdom. François I submitted their request to the Privy Council, where the affair was debated at some length. Finally, his Majesty, at the instigation of Madame d'Étampes, who represented that to authorise the duel would be to condemn her brother-in-law to almost certain death, since he was no match for so redoubtable a bretteur as La Châtaigneraie, refused his consent, saying that "princes ought not to sanction such a combat, the issue of which could bring no profit to the kingdom." Moreover, he formally forbade the two adversaries to fight at all, and threatened them with the most severe punishment should they disobey his command. And there the matter remained until François's death, some two years later.

No sooner, however, had Henri II ascended the throne than La Châtaigneraie repeated his demand, and addressed to the new King the following letter:

"To the King my Sovereign Lord.

"Having learned that Guichot Chabot, while at Compiegne during the reign of the late King, declared that whoever accused him of boasting of having misconducted himself with his step-mother was a malicious villain, I reply that he has wickedly lied, since he has boasted to me about it on several occasions.

"FRANÇOIS DE VlVONNE"

Some days later, La Châtaigneraie wrote to his Majesty a second letter:

"Sire, — I very humbly entreat you to accord me a field for mortal combat, wherein I propose to prove by arms, upon the person of the said Guichot Chabot, what I have said and what I maintain . . . in order that by my hands may be verified the offence which he has committed against God, his father, and justice.

"FRANÇOIS DE VlVONNE"

On learning of the step which his enemy had taken, Jarnac lost no time in accepting the challenge, and wrote to Henri II as follows:

"To the King my Lord.

"Sire, — I have come from my house expressly to defend myself, and I pray of you to believe in my honour. I say that François de Vivonne has lied in the construction which he has given to what I said to you at Compiegne, and for that, Sire, I entreat you very humbly to be pleased to sanction a combat to the death."

At the same time, he wrote to the Bishop of Béziers, who was high in favour with Henri II, to beg him to support his demand, assuring his lordship that "he intended to attest by his bravery the good sustenance he had received from the late King and his present Sovereign, and to stop La Châtaigneraie's lying mouth with his sword."

Jarnac's two letters were in due course laid before La Châtaigneraie, who thereupon launched another cartel:

"To the King my Sovereign Lord.

"Sire, — You have been pleased to consider the difference between Guichot Chabot and myself, in relation to which I have read a letter bearing his signature, wherein he offers at once to enter the lists and bear arms so bravely that he will testify to the sustenance he has received from the late King and from you, boasting, moreover, that he will stop my mouth with his sword. And since, Sire, he shows a disposition to come to the point which I have always pursued, I beg you very humbly to grant me a field in your kingdom to settle our difference by mortal combat, or permission to meet elsewhere.

"FRANÇOIS DE VlVONNE"

The matter was submitted to the Privy Council, and at the end of May 1547 Jarnac and La Châtaigneraie were informed that, since there was no other way of settling the difference between them, the King had been graciously pleased to accede to their request; and letters patent were issued directing the pursuer and pursued to present themselves at Saint-Germain-en-Laye on the following July 10 "for the verification of their honour."

Jarnac, being the person challenged, had the right to choice of arms. By the laws of the judicial duel, the "assailli" was permitted to decide whether the combat should be on horse-back or on foot and to demand whatever arms, both offensive and defensive, he considered would afford him the best prospect of success; and to these the "assaillant" was bound to agree, unless the judges of the lists upheld his objections. Jarnac at first resolved to fight on horseback, and proceeded to furnish his opponent, according to custom, with a long list of the kind of horses, saddles, lances, and so forth, with which he would be required to provide himself; but afterwards he changed his mind and decided to trust to his sword. On the advice of a celebrated Italian fencing-master, named Caize, with whom he practised assiduously, he demanded the heavy weapons and cumbersome armour used in combats of this kind a century earlier: long, heavy two-edged swords, with cross-hilts and pas d'âne, two daggers — a long one, which was to be attached to the thigh, and a short one, which was to be placed in the boot — coats of mail, a huge shield of polished steel, with a long and very sharp spike at the top, stiff iron gauntlets, and brassards, or arm-pieces, without joints, which kept the arm extended and stiff. The helmets were of modern make, and no mention is made of either cuishes or greves, which were apparently considered too heavy for a combat on foot in the height of summer.

The reasons for Jarnac's choice of the arms of a bygone age were as follows:

In the assault on Coni, in the last Italian campaign, La Châtaigneraie had been wounded in the right arm, and had never quite regained the free use of it; therefore, the heavy swords, the iron gauntlets, and particularly the brassards, were all calculated to hamper the movements of the wounded limb; while the brassards would likewise make it very difficult for him to get a firm grip of his adversary, should he close with him and endeavour to throw him. The two daggers were a provision against such an eventuality, since it would be scarcely possible for La Châtaigneraie, after he had thrown Jarnac down, to prevent him drawing one or other of them. As for the huge shield, that would naturally be of advantage to the weaker combatant, who must perforce remain on the defensive, until some mistake on the part of his opponent afforded him an opening; while its polished surface would cause La Châtaigneraie's sword to slip.

The confidence of that personage passed all bounds. "He feared his enemy no more than a lion does a dog,"[06] and, intoxicated by the sensation which the affair was causing, strutted about, boasting of his prowess and talking of the encounter as a foregone conclusion. To celebrate his anticipated triumph, he ordered a magnificent banquet, which was to take place in his own tent on the field of battle, and to which he invited the whole Court, as to a marriage-feast. "The extravagance and braggadocio in which he indulged," writes Montluc, "were highly reprehensible. He treated the Church and the Mass very lightly before the combat, and took but little care to pray to God and call Him to his aid."[07]

Very different was the behaviour of the adversary whom he so much despised. "As for Jarnac, he did nothing but frequent the churches, the monasteries, and the convents, praying himself, getting others to pray for him, and receiving the Sacrament, which he did upon the day of the combat, after having heard Mass very devoutly."[08]

Although the great majority of the Court was naturally on the side of La Châtaigneraie, for whom Henri II made no secret of his sympathies, Jarnac was not without friends, particularly among the provincial nobility, who regarded him as representing the principle of family honour, while the arrogance of his opponent had disgusted many. The Bourbon princes, out of hostility to the Guises, openly proclaimed themselves his supporters, and when it was announced that François de Guise was to be La Châtaigneraie's second, the Duc de Vendôme asked the King's permission to act in the same capacity for Jarnac. His request was refused, whereupon, indignant at such open partiality, he abruptly withdrew from the royal presence, followed by the other Princes of the Blood. The Constable, who had learned that, in the event of his victory, La Châtaigneraie was to be rewarded with the post of Colonel-General of Infantry, which he intended for his nephew Gaspard de Coligny, also favoured Jarnac, and was only prevented from offering himself as his second by the fact that his official position necessitated him acting as principal judge of the combat. He, however, charged his friend, the Grand Equerry, Boisy, to fill the position.[09]

Henri II had decided to assist at the duel with his whole Court, and a few days before the date fixed he proceeded to Saint-Germain-en-Laye. The arrangements were carried out under the supervision of the Constable, who selected for the field of battle a meadow situated on the eastern side of the Château. Here a space was marked out, twenty-four yards long and forty broad, and enclosed within a double line of barriers. Parallel with the barriers, stands for the accommodation of the Court and the nobility were erected, the King's tribune being in the centre. Near the King's tribune were those of the Constable and the Marshals of France, who were to officiate as judges of the combat. Beneath the royal tribune was a table covered with a cloth of gold, on which were a missal, a crucifix, and a Te igitur. To the right and left of the King, at the two extremities of the lists, were the tents of the two champions; the towers of the pursuivants-at-arms occupied the four corners of the enclosure.[10]

The eventful day arrived — a glorious midsummer morning. From early dawn an enormous crowd from the capital and all the country round, attracted by curiosity and the magnificent weather, began to pour into Saint-Germain. All Paris, we are told, seemed to be there, "an endless array of people of all sorts — students, artisans, and vagabonds — all anxious to enjoy the pastime,"[11] and the archers of the Guard, to whom fell the task of preserving order, had all their work cut out to prevent the crowd from breaking through the barricades and invading the field of battle. Shortly before six o'clock, the King arrived, accompanied by his sister, Madame Marguerite, afterwards Duchess of Savoy, Diane de Poitiers, the Prince de la Roche-sur-Yon — the only one of the Princes of the Blood who was present — the Constable, the Grand Equerry, the Duc d'Aumale, the Maréchaux de Saint-André and de Sedan [Robert de la Marck], Brissac, Tavannes, Montluc, Vieilleville, and many other nobles and ladies, all most gorgeously attired. The stands and royal tribune were sumptuously upholstered and decorated; the tents of the combatants were gay with flags and streamers, and an onlooker might have imagined himself at some splendid fete or Court ceremony, had it not been for the presence of five sinister-looking individuals, who stood with ropes in their hands beneath the Constable's tribune. They were the executioner and his assistants, to whose charge the corpse of the vanquished would be committed for conveyance to the gibbet, in the event of either of the combatants being slain.

As soon as the King had taken his seat, the Guienne herald advanced, and, at each extremity of the lists in turn, made the following proclamation:

"This day, the tenth of the present month of July, the King, our sovereign lord, has permitted and granted free and fair field for mortal combat to François de Vivonne, Sieur de la Châtaigneraie, pursuer, and to Guy Chabot, Sieur de Monlieu, defendant and pursued, to decide by arms the question of honour which is at issue between them.

"Wherefore, I make known to all, on behalf of the King, that no one shall hinder the course of the present combat, nor aid nor interfere with either of the combatants, on peril of his life."

Immediately after the herald's proclamation, La Châtaigneraie came from his lodging, accompanied by the Duc d'Aumale, his second, and a great company of his friends and supporters, to the number of more than five hundred, all wearing his colours, white and carnation. His sword and shield and a banner bearing the image of St. Francis — the saint by whose name he had been baptized — were borne before him. The cortège, which was preceded by drums and trumpets, made the circuit of the lists, on the outside of the barriers, a ceremony which was called "honouring the exterior of the field." La Châtaigneraie's shield was then attached to a pillar on the right of the royal tribune, and the pursuer himself advanced to the right barrier, at which he was received by the Constable and escorted to his tent, there to await the hour of the combat.

Jarnac appeared immediately afterwards, escorted by the Grand Equerry, his second, and one hundred and twenty gentlemen, wearing his colours — black and white — and preceded by a banner bearing an image of the Holy Virgin. The same ceremonial was observed in his case as in that of his opponent, except that his shield was hung up on the left side of the King's tribune and the Constable received him at the left barrier.

The next ceremony was the concordance des armes. The supporters of the pursued presented the weapons and armour which their principal had selected to the pursuer's second, who tested, weighed, and measured them. In the event of his raising any objections, the question was referred to the judges, by whose decision the parties were bound to abide. On this occasion, François de Guise, on behalf of La Châtaigneraie, accepted without demur the swords and daggers, and it was agreed that two reserve swords should be provided, and that, if either of the champions broke his, another should be handed to him. But, aware that the brassards would place his principal at a serious disadvantage, he protested strongly against them, on the ground that they were a kind of armour no longer in use. A long and heated discussion followed, which was finally ended by the Constable and the marshals over- ruling the objection. Aumale also objected to the shields, as La Châtaigneraie was not provided with one of the peculiar design selected by Jarnac. The latter's friends replied that the pursuer had received due notice of the kind which was to be used, and ought to have procured it. The question was referred to the judges, who decided that La Châtaigneraie must make use of the one which he had brought; but, since this was found to be much smaller than that of Jarnac, the latter, to solve the difficulty, offered his adversary the choice between two other shields.

It was now seven o'clock in the evening, and the huge assembly of spectators had been waiting under a burning summer sun for many hours. But the long delay had only served to intensify their interest in the coming struggle, and they had kept their places with grim determination, oblivious of heat and fatigue.

The question of the arms having been at length settled, a herald appeared at each of the four corners of the lists, and made the following proclamation:

"Oyez, oyez, oyez, nobles, knights, gentlemen, and all manner of people! On behalf of the King, I expressly command all that, so soon as the combatants shall meet in combat, all present are to preserve silence, and not to speak, cough, spit, or make any sign with foot, hand, or eye which may aid, injure, or prejudice either of the said combatants. And, further, I expressly command all on behalf of the King that, during the combat, they are not to enter the lists, or assist either of the combatants, in any circumstances whatever, without permission of the Constable and the Marshals of France, on peril of death."

The seconds then proceeded to the tents of their principals, and the two champions, accompanied by their supporters, again made the circuit of the lists, this time on the inside of the barriers, the weapons which they were to use being borne before them. This was called "honouring the interior of the field."

After this, each cortège in turn advanced to the table which had been placed at the foot of the royal tribune, and, after listening to the exhortations of a priest who was in attendance, the champion knelt upon a velvet cushion embroidered with gold, and, placing his hands between those of the Constable, took a solemn oath that his cause was a just one, and that his person and arms were innocent of any magical aid to victory.

The oath of the pursuer ran thus:

"I, François de Vivonne, swear on the Holy Gospels, upon the true cross of our Lord, and on the faith of baptism, that in a just and good cause I have come to do battle with Guy Chabot, who has a wrongful and unjust cause to defend against me. And, further, that I have not, either in my person or among my arms, any charms or incantations with which I hope to injure my enemy, and of which I do not wish to avail myself against him, my sole confidence being in God, in my right, and in the strength of my body and my weapons."

Jarnac took a similar oath, and he and La Châtaigneraie were conducted to their respective stations, while their swords and daggers were carefully examined by the Constable and the marshals, in the presence of the King. This concluded, the Constable took charge of the two reserve swords and handed the other weapons to Aumale and Boisy, who carried them to their principals, placing the swords in their hands and fixing the daggers in their places. Then they took leave of them and retired, and the Normandy herald, advancing into the lists, cried with all the strength of his lungs: "Laissez aller les bons combatants!"

Amid a deathlike silence, the two champions advanced upon each other; La Châtaigneraie with rapid strides and sword aloft; Jarnac, more slowly, his body protected by his shield, his sword ready to parry the coming blow. The moment they were within striking distance, La Châtaigneraie sprang upon his adversary like a tiger and aimed a terrific cut at his head. Jarnac, instead of parrying with his sword, as the other had doubtless expected him to do, took the blow upon his shield, and, stooping down, replied with a thrust[12] which wounded his opponent in the hollow of the knee. It is doubtful if this first wound was a serious one, but it had the effect of completely disconcerting La Châtaigneraie; and before he could recover himself, Jarnac aimed a terrible back-handed cut at the same place, and severed the tendons.[13] La Châtaigneraie staggered, dropped his sword, and sank to the ground, bleeding profusely.

A cry of astonishment rose from the vast assemblage; few had anticipated the victory of Jarnac; no one could possibly have foreseen that in a few seconds one of the best swordsmen in France would have been placed hors de combat. The friends of La Châtaigneraie were aghast; those of Jarnac raised shouts of triumph. Then, as the latter was seen to approach his fallen foe, a deep silence once more fell on the crowd. By the laws of the judicial duel, three courses were open to the victor. He might kill his adversary and deliver him over to the executioner, to be exposed on a gibbet; spare his life, after exacting from him the restoration of his honour, that is to say, a confession that the conqueror's cause was a just and rightful one, or surrender him to the King, who could pardon or punish him as he thought fit. If the King accepted him, which he invariably did, he, in return, publicly proclaimed that the victor had vindicated the honour. Which of these three courses would Jarnac adopt? That was the question which was now agitating the minds of the spectators.

For a few moments, Jarnac, who was probably as much astonished as any one at his easy victory, contemplated his fallen enemy in silence, apparently at a loss how to act. Then he cried out, in a voice which could be heard by all present: "Vivonne, restore me my honour; and ask mercy of God and the King for the wrong that you have committed!"

La Châtaigneraie's reply was to make a desperate attempt to rise, but the effort was, of course, futile.

Leaving him, Jarnac crossed to the royal tribune, saluted the King with his bloody sword, and then, raising his visor and falling on his knees, exclaimed: "Sire, I entreat you to esteem me a man of honour; I give La Châtaigneraie to you.[14] It is our youth alone which is the cause of all this. Let no imputation, Sire, rest either on his family or upon him on account of his offence; for I surrender him to you."

But to this generous speech the King vouchsafed no answer. Apparently, he was unaware that his champion's wound was of so serious a nature, and expected every moment to see him rise and renew the conflict.

Jarnac then struck his breast with his gauntlet, and, raising his eyes to Heaven, cried: "Domine non sum dignus, for it is not to myself, but to Thee, my God, that I owe the victory." He returned to La Châtaigneraie and again entreated him to surrender; but the latter, instead of complying, succeeded, by a supreme effort, in raising himself upon one knee, and, seizing his sword, endeavoured to throw himself upon his adversary. Jarnac slipped back and raised his own sword. "Do not budge, Vivonne," said he, "or I shall kill thee." "Kill me, then!" replied the other, and fell back exhausted, with the blood pouring from his wound.

Again Jarnac approached the royal tribune, and, with a thousand protestations of loyalty and devotion, entreated the King to proclaim that his honour was restored to him and to accept La Châtaigneraie's life. But Henri II, though he saw that his champion's case was hopeless, could not bring himself to pronounce what, in the eyes of all present, would be considered his own condemnation. He still remained silent.

Once more the victor returned to his wounded foe, who now lay full length upon the ground, in an ever-widening pool of blood. "Vivonne, my old comrade," said he, "acknowledge thy Creator, and let us be reconciled." But, by way of thanks, La Châtaigneraie endeavoured to stab him with one of his daggers. Jarnac removed his weapons and handed them to the heralds, after which, perceiving that if La Chaitagneraie's wound were not soon attended to, he would probably bleed to death, he, for the third time, approached the King. "Sire," he cried, "see! He is dying! for the love of God, accept his life at my hands!" Henri, however, continued to preserve an obstinate silence. He was deadly pale, and seemed like a man whom some sudden calamity has momentarily deprived of the power of speech.

The Constable, who had descended into the lists and seen for himself the desperate condition of the wounded man, joined his entreaties to those of Jarnac; and no doubt pointed out to the King that, if Châtaigneraie were to expire where he had fallen, without acknowledging his fault, the victor would be obliged to drag the corpse from the lists and deliver it to the executioner — a termination to the affair which it was most desirable to avoid.

Meanwhile, Jarnac had approached the stand reserved for the ladies of the Court, and, addressing Madame Marguerite, exclaimed: "Madame, you told me that it would be so!" meaning, presumably, that the princess had warned him that her royal brother was so prejudiced in favour of La Châtaigneraie that it was hopeless for Jarnac to expect justice at his hands.

These words, and the looks of astonishment and indignation which he observed on the faces of those about him, aroused the King to some sense of the injustice and inhumanity of his conduct, and, turning towards Jarnac, he inquired, "Do you give him to me?"  "Yes, Sire," cried the victor eagerly, throwing himself on his knees for the fourth time; "I give him to you for the love of God. Am I not a man of worth?"  "You have done your duty, Jarnac," rejoined the King coldly, "and your honour ought to be restored to you." And he ordered the Constable to have La Châtaigneraie removed.

La Châtaigneraie was accordingly carried to his tent by four gentlemen, where his armour was removed and his wound bound up, after which he was conveyed to his lodging. Brantôme, whose account of the affair is certainly not distinguished by impartiality, pretends that his uncle did not surrender, since he called to his adversary to kill him, and that, consequently, he did not lose his honour; but most people will be of opinion that he had already lost it, for having defamed an innocent woman and an old companion-in-arms.

The fallen champion having been carried away, the Constable reminded the King that it was the right of the victor to be escorted from the lists by his followers, to the sound of drums and trumpets, and with the heralds leading the way. But Jarnac had the good sense to forgo a triumph, which would have ruined him for ever, and declined. "No, Sire," said he, "to belong to you is all that I desire." The King, who had had time to compose himself, then summoned him and his second, the Grand Equerry, to mount the royal tribune; and, as Jarnac was about to kneel before him, embraced him, saying that he had "fought like Caesar and spoken like Aristotle."

It was certainly as well that Jarnac showed such becoming modesty in the hour of victory, for the friends of La Châtaigneraie, exasperated by the unexpected defeat of their hero, had assumed a most threatening attitude, brandishing their swords and raising shouts of defiance, and had the triumphal procession taken place, a collision between the two factions could scarcely have been averted.

The affair, however, did not terminate without a serious disturbance, for the motley multitude, which contained some of the worst characters in Paris, suddenly launched itself upon La Châtaigneraie's tent, where, as we have mentioned, a magnificent banquet had been prepared to celebrate the victory so confidently anticipated, and carried it by storm. In a moment, its contents were being mercilessly pillaged; "the soups and entrees were devoured by an infinity of harpies; the silver plate and the handsome sideboards, borrowed from seven or eight households at the Court, were broken or carried off, amid indescribable disorder and confusion; and the dessert consisted of a hundred thousand blows from halberds and staves distributed by the captains and the archers of the Guard and the provosts, who fell unexpectedly upon them."[15]

Although La Châtaigneraie was much weakened by loss of blood, the surgeons held out every hope of his recovery. But he did not care to survive his lost reputation; and his despair being, it is said, aggravated by the indifference of the King, who did not even trouble to visit his defeated champion, he tore the bandage from his wound and bled to death. His demise does not appear to have caused his Majesty much concern; indeed, he probably regarded it as a fortunate termination to an affair from which the royal honour had certainly not emerged scathless.

Notes

(1) Vieilleville.

(2) Tavannes had been the Duc d'Orléans's Montmorency.

(3) The writer means François I and Philip of Spain's father, Charles V.

(4) Marguerite de la Marche, wife of Jean de Ligne, Comte d'Arenberg, one of the most prominent of the Netherland nobles.

(5) La Châtaigneraie had married an aunt of Brantôme.

(6) Mémoires de Vieilleville.

(7) Commentaires.

(8) Montluc.

(9) Decrue, Anne, duc de Montmorency.

(10) Prince de Moskowa, le Dernier duel judiciaire, Revue de Deux Mondes, April 1854.

(11) Mémoires de Vieilleville.

(12) And not a cut — much less a cut delivered with both hands, as Michelet supposes, which would have necessitated him dropping his shield.

(13) This stroke, which enriched the French language with a new phrase — le coup de Jarnac — was not, as so many writers have asserted, a foul stroke. It was a perfectly legitimate one, as a perusal of any contemporary treatise on fencing will show.

(14) Meaning, "I give you his life."

(15) Mémoires de Vieilleville.

Chapter XVII

Sacre and coronation of Henri II — Affairs of Italy — Charles V and the Farnesi — Assassination of Pierluigi Farnese, natural son of Paul III, by the nobles of Piacenza, and occupation of the town by the Imperialists — Fury of the Pope — Negotiations for an alliance between France and the Papacy — The Constable dissuades Henri II from making war — Journey of Henri II to Piedmont — Mimic combat in honour of the King at Beaune — Arrival of Henri II at Turin — Annexation of the marquisate of Saluzzo

SO soon as the remains of François I had been deposited at Saint-Denis, where Henri II subsequently erected a magnificent monument to his memory, preparations were made for the Coronation of his successor. This ceremony, in accordance with ancient custom, took place at Rheims, July 26 being the date selected.[01]

On the day preceding the ceremony, Henri II made his entry into the town, where "several pleasant and sumptuous spectacles had been prepared for him," and proceeded to the cathedral. At the western door, over which "a great canopy of crimson velvet enriched with sumptuous gold and silver embroidery" had been erected, he was received by Charles de Guise, Archbishop of Rheims, and his chapter, the ecclesiastical peers of France, and a number of other prelates, all in full canonicals. After acknowledging their salutations, the King knelt upon a velvet cushion placed upon a footcloth of cloth of gold, and the archbishop presented to him a copy of the Gospels, which he kissed. He then rose, and was conducted into the cathedral by the Cardinal de Guiry, Bishop of Langres, and the Cardinal de Châtillon, Bishop of Beauvais, the former walking on his right hand and the latter on his left. The two cardinals escorted him to the high altar, which he kissed, and laid upon it "a rich reliquary of the Resurrection of Our Lord, made of costly agate, which was valued at 1,000 écus."

His Majesty next entered an oratory which had been prepared for him on the right of the high altar, where he heard vespers, the archbishop officiating, and at the conclusion of the service proceeded to the archiepiscopal palace, in which a suite of apartments, magnificently furnished and decorated, had been made ready for his reception. After he had supped, he again visited the cathedral to confess and receive absolution, and then returned to the palace "to take his repose."

The following morning, at six o'clock, the four premier barons of France — Montmorency, Martigues, Harcourt, and La Trémoille — were summoned to the royal presence and directed to proceed to the Abbey of Saint-Rémy and command the grand prior to bring the Holy Ampulla to the cathedral,[02] while they themselves were to remain in the abbey as hostages for the safe restoration of the precious relic.[03] They departed, preceded by equerries bearing their banners,[04] and taking with them a white horse, which was to carry the grand prior to and from the cathedral, and a canopy of white damask spangled with golden fleurs-de-lis, which was always held over the prior's head, both going and returning.

So soon as the four barons had started for the Abbey of Saint-Rémy, the lay peers, Henri d'Albret, King of Navarre, and the Ducs de Vendôme, de Guise, de Nevers, de Montpensier and d'Aumale, representing the six primitive peerages of Burgundy, Normandy, Aquitaine, Flanders, Champagne, and Toulouse,[05] set out for the cathedral, where they found the ecclesiastical peers, the Archbishop of Rheims, the Cardinal de Guiry, Bishop of Langres, the Cardinal de Châtillon, Bishop of Beauvais, and the Bishops of Noyon, Saintes, and Châlons, awaiting them.[06]

In solemn state, accompanied by the canons, vicars, and chaplains of the cathedral, and preceded by crosses, candles, holy water, and censers, the twelve peers repaired to the archiepiscopal palace, and were ushered into the royal bedchamber, a most magnificent apartment, hung with priceless tapestries and with a ceiling ornamented with fleurs-de-lis of fine gold. His Majesty was reclining on a splendid bed, which was "covered with a great cloth of gold damask over crimson silk, reaching to the ground on both sides, with his head resting on a pillow of crimson velvet covered with rich embroidery." He was dressed in a fine chemise of Holland cloth, with slits on both front and back, to receive the Holy Unction, above which was the camisole of crimson satin,[07] which had also slits on front and back, for the same reason, and a long robe, in the fashion of a robe de nuit, of cloth of silver.

The Bishops of Langres and Beauvais[08] offered up certain prayers proper to the occasion, at the conclusion of which they advanced, kissed the King's hand, and assisted him to rise from the bed. The procession was then reformed and set out for the cathedral. First, came the Constable, dressed in similar fashion to the lay peers, and bearing his sword of office, unsheathed. Next, the King, with the Bishop of Langres on his right hand and the Bishop of Beauvais on his left. Behind the King, came the Chancellor, in his ermine-trimmed robes, with his mortier on his head. After the Chancellor, the Maréchal de Saint-André, filling for the nonce Montmorency's post of Grand-Master, the Grand Chamberlain, the Duc de Longueville walking on his right, and the First Chamberlain the Maréchal de Sedan — or de la Marck, as some historians call him — on his left. The other peers, ecclesiastical and lay, followed in order of precedence.

On reaching the cathedral, Henri II proceeded to the high altar, on either side of which two chairs covered with cloth of gold had been placed, one for the King, the other for the Archbishop of Rheims. The King knelt at the altar in prayer, and was then conducted to his seat by the Bishops of Langres and Beauvais, where the archbishop sprinkled him with holy water.

A few minutes later, the Prior of the Abbey of Saint-Rémy[09] arrived, bearing the Holy Ampulla, suspended by a chain round his neck. The archbishop descended the altar steps to meet him, and received the sacred vessel, solemnly promising to restore it at the conclusion of the ceremony. Then he returned to the altar, upon which he placed the Ampulla, the King bowing low before it. While the choir was singing an anthem, the archbishop retired to a vestry behind the altar to assume his pontifical robes, and, on his return, administered to the King the oath of Promitto. Then the Bishops of Langres and Beauvais demanded of the people of France if they accepted Henri de Valois as their King; and the congregation having signified its assent, his Majesty took the oath to the Kingdom, beginning "Hæc tria promitto," with his hand on the text of the Gospels, which he kissed. This finished, the two bishops conducted him to the altar, where the Maréchal de Saint-André divested him of the robe of cloth of silver in which he had come from the palace; while, after the archbishop had recited over him the customary prayers, the Grand Chamberlain put the buskins on his feet, and the King of Navarre, as Duc de Bourgogne, fixed the spurs on his heels, which, however, he immediately afterwards removed. Then the archbishop took up the sword in its scabbard, girded it on, ungirded it, unsheathed it, and, leaving the scabbard on the altar, recited the customary prayer, and placed the blade in the King's hand. The monarch received it with every mark of humility and placed it on the altar; but the archbishop, taking it up, returned it to the King, who immediately handed it to the Constable, that functionary having previously given his sword of office to his equerry.

The moment had now arrived for the ceremony of the Holy Unction; and the archbishop, going to the altar, took the plate on which stood the chalice of Saint-Rémy, and placed upon it the chrism which he used in the consecration of bishops. He then took from the Holy Ampulla, with a golden needle which was attached to it, a very small quantity of the oil which it contained — "the size of a pea," says the official account — placed it upon his finger and mixed it with the chrism; while the choir sang the anthem Gentem Francorum, and the King prostrated himself before the altar. At the conclusion of the anthem, the bishops commenced the Litany, the choir making the responses; and when they came to the Hunc famulum tuum, the King rose, and, approaching the archbishop, who was seated, as when he consecrated a bishop, knelt at his feet. And the archbishop anointed him, first, on the crown of the head; secondly, on the chest; thirdly, between the two shoulders; fourthly, on the right shoulder; fifthly, on the left shoulder; sixthly, in the bend of the right arm, and lastly, in the bend of the left arm, repeating at each unction the prayer of Ungo te Regem.

The Bishops of Langres and Beauvais having closed the slits in the chemise and camisole which they had opened before the ceremony, the Grand Chamberlain came forward and invested the King with the tunic, the dalmatica, and the mantle.

The King being now arrayed in all his Coronation robes, the archbishop proceeded to the eighth and final unction— that of the hands — which performed, he presented a pair of gloves, and these his Majesty put on. Next, the archbishop consecrated a magnificent diamond ring and offered it to the King, who placed it upon the forefinger of his right hand, in token of his espousal of the Kingdom; after which the archbishop took up the sceptre and the Hand of Justice from the altar, and placed the one in the monarch's right hand and the other in his left.

Then the Chancellor stepped to the altar, and, turning so as to face the congregation, summoned in turn each of the peers, secular and ecclesiastical, to present himself; and the twelve peers came forward, one by one, until they formed a circle round the King. The archbishop, however, immediately went back to the altar, and taking up the great crown of Charlemagne, held it just over the King's head, but without allowing it to touch it, while the other peers placed their hands under the crown in order to support it. The archbishop said the prayer Coronet te Deus, and the crown was placed upon the King's head, after which all the peers repeated another prayer, beginning "Accipe Coronam."

This concluded, the archbishop took the King by the right sleeve of his tunic and led him to the throne, the Constable bearing the sword before them. The King took his seat, and the archbishop, after offering him his mitre, kissed him upon the shoulder, and cried in a loud voice: "Vivat Rex in æternum." The peers, one by one, did the same; the trumpets sounded, and the congregation burst into joyful acclamations, which were taken up by the immense crowd assembled outside the cathedral, whose enthusiasm was not diminished when the heralds proceeded to scatter amongst them "about one thousand pieces of gold forged and struck with the representation and image of the King, with the date of the day and year of his very holy consecration and coronation, and a great quantity of écus and common money."

After the choir had sung the Te Deum, "to the accompaniment of organs and other music," the archbishop celebrated Mass, and having absolved the King, administered to him the Holy Sacrament, which was received "in great humility and perfect devotion." The Comte d'Enghien — the second Prince of the Blood — then came forward, removed the great crown and replaced it by the smaller one; and the procession was reformed and returned to the palace in the same order as it had quitted it, save that it was now headed by Enghien, bearing the great crown on a cushion.

We have an interesting portrait of Henri II at the time of his coronation, from the pen of Matteo Dandolo, who had been selected by the Republic of Venice to felicitate the King on his accession to the throne. Dandolo was already acquainted with Henri, since he had been sent on a mission to the French Court five years earlier, on which occasion, it will be remembered, he had described him as a taciturn and melancholy prince, who had never been known to laugh heartily.[10] According to the account which he now despatched to the Senate, however, it would appear that the Crown of France had operated a complete transformation in its present possessor:

"His Majesty is in his twenty-ninth year, and although I once represented him to your Excellencies as a prince of a pale, livid countenance, and so melancholy that many of those about him said that they had never known him laugh heartily, to-day I ought to assure you that he has become gay, that he has a ruddy complexion, and that he is in perfect health. He has but a scanty beard, but nevertheless, he shaves it; his eyes are rather large than otherwise, but he keeps them lowered; his countenance, from one side of the jaw to the other, and the forehead, lack breadth; his head is not too large. His body is very well proportioned, rather tall than otherwise. Personally, he is all full of valour, very courageous and enterprising; he is very addicted to the game of tennis, to such a degree as never to miss a day, for less than rain, for he plays under the open sky, and sometimes even after having hunted at full speed one or two stags, which is one of the most fatiguing of exercises, as your Excellencies know. The same day, after having undergone such exertions, he will practise martial exercises for two or three hours, and at these he is one of the most celebrated. At the time of my first embassy, I assisted at jousts of this kind, and I can say that they are not without danger. Indeed, running one day at the barriers without looking too closely at them, the father and son were overturned, and the former gave the latter such a blow on the head that he removed a good deal of flesh. It should be said, also, that he behaves not less as a good soldier than as a good captain; and a person whom I believe to be trustworthy has told me that he found himself with him in an extremely perilous position, and that he did not wish to leave it, but, on the contrary, bravely to remain there."

On the conclusion of the official fetes which followed the Coronation, the Court proceeded to Fontainebleau, where it remained during the rest of the year 1547 and the first months of 1548, save for visits to Montmorency's Châteaux of Écouen and Chantilly, for a series of grand hunting-parties organised by the Constable in honour of his Majesty. At the beginning of the spring, however, it set out upon a journey to Piedmont.

For Henri II desired to be King in Italy as well as in France, or, at any rate, he wished to show that he had not renounced the heritage of Charles VIII, Louis XII, and François I beyond the Alps, and that he was determined to retain his hold on Piedmont, and to continue the friendly relations of his House with those Italian States which resented the Imperial domination of the peninsula. And it was certainly an opportune moment for France to assert herself, for Italy was seething with intrigue and discontent, and in the previous autumn the antagonism of the Papacy to the Emperor had all but caused another conflagration.

The Emperor had pledged himself to advance the interests of the Farnesi, and had married his natural daughter Margaret of Austria to Ottavio Farnese, the elder of the two sons of Paul III's rascally son Pierluigi; but he hesitated to invest his son-in-law with Parma and Piacenza, and in 1545 the Pope, losing patience and feeling confident that the Emperor could not afford to quarrel with him, conferred these territories upon Pierluigi, whom Charles detested. At the beginning of the following year, a commission appointed to inquire into the question of the suzerainty over Parma and Piacenza, which was claimed both by Pope and Emperor, decided that Pierluigi must not bear the title of duke without Charles's investiture; and the chagrin of the Farnesi at this decision was increased when, three months later, the Emperor appointed their enemy, Ferrante Gonzaga, to the governorship of the Milanese, which they had coveted for themselves. Pierluigi thereupon threw himself into the arms of France; a marriage was arranged between his younger son, Orazio, and the Dauphin's natural daughter, Diane de France; and insurrections, which were only with difficulty suppressed, were stirred up at Genoa and Naples. The Imperialists retaliated by intriguing against Pierluigi in Parma and Piacenza, where he was cordially hated, and inciting the nobles of those cities to rise against their tyrant.

Meanwhile, the Pope remained the professed ally of Charles V, though France did not despair of gaining him over; and, after the accession of Henri II, no time was lost in making advances to his Holiness through the Ambassador to the Vatican and the French cardinals who were residing at Rome. Paul, however, did not seem in any great hurry to respond to them, and it was not until August that he consented to accord the new King the "indult," or right of nomination to vacant benefices, which François had enjoyed by the terms of the Concordat of 1516, sending, at the same time, a rosary which he had blessed to Catherine de' Medici and a string of pearls to his future grand-daughter. However, a few weeks later, an event occurred which precipitated the desired rapprochement.

On September 10, the nobles of Piacenza rose against Pierluigi Farnese and assassinated him, and on the following day Gonzaga occupied the city in the name of the Emperor. Paul III, outraged at once in his affections and his ambition, accused the viceroy of having incited the crime, and angrily demanded that the murdered man's elder son, Ottavio, should be established at Piacenza. This was refused, whereupon the Pope, vowing that he would suffer martyrdom rather than renounce his vengeance, declared himself ready to conclude an alliance with Henri II, the Swiss, and Venice; and at the end of October Charles de Guise, who had come to Rome under the pretext of receiving his cardinal's hat from his Holiness's own hands, but really to confirm him in his bellicose dispositions, signed with him, in the name of France, a defensive treaty.

But for the interposition of Montmorency, war must certainly have followed, for the treaty just concluded was defensive in name only, and Paul III made desperate efforts to induce the King to invade the Milanese or to attack Genoa and Naples, and even recommended an alliance with the Turks and the Algerines. The respect, however, which the Constable always professed for the spiritual authority of the Holy See did not go so far as the sacrifice of the interests of the State in order to promote the temporal aggrandizement of its present occupant; and he foresaw that Paul III would in all probability be the sole gainer by the adventure in which he was so anxious to engage France. Nor was he altogether sorry to have an opportunity of thwarting his rivals, the Guises, and of procuring the condemnation of the work of the new cardinal. He accordingly pointed out to the King that it was impossible to place any confidence in the Pope, whose conduct had up to the present been one long tissue of dissimulations, and who, while demanding that France should take the offensive in order to recover Piacenza, refused to enthrone Orazio Farnese, his Majesty's future son-in-law, at Parma, instead of Ottavio, the son-in-law of the Emperor.

The Constable's task was facilitated by the reports of Morvilliers, the French Ambassador at Venice, who represented the Senate as but little inclined to engage in a league with a Pontiff of eighty-four, and on account of a quarrel more private than public; and the Guises being themselves compelled to admit the imprudence of beginning a war with such feeble support, Charles de Guise returned to France, and all armed interference in the affairs of Italy was for the moment abandoned, although an attempt was made to persuade the Pope to renew the league on a purely defensive basis.

In view of the troubles which were agitating Italy, Henri II resolved to lose no time in going in person to secure the recognition of his authority beyond the Alps, and in April 1548, he set out for Piedmont. With the idea of impressing the Piedmontese and his Italian allies, he was accompanied not only by the greater part of the Court, but by a considerable army, the objections of the Imperial Ambassador being met by an assurance that the troops were merely intended to relieve the French garrisons in Savoy and Piedmont.

The King journeyed by easy stages through the eastern provinces, accepting the hospitality of the Constable's eldest nephew, the Cardinal de Châtillon, at the Abbey of Vauhusant, near Sens, and that of the Guises at Joinville. Magnificent receptions awaited his Majesty in every town through which he passed, perhaps the most interesting being that at Beaune, where he arrived on July 18, and where the decorations were on so sumptuous a scale that we are assured by the secretary of the Chapter that "the greatest nobles raised cries of delight, declaring that they had never beheld anything so beautiful."[11]

A few days before the arrival of the King, the principal inhabitants of the town had met in solemn conclave to decide upon some divertissement for the amusement of his Majesty. Aware that military exercises and manoeuvres were preferred by Henri II to all other spectacles, it was finally decided that it should take the form of a mimic combat; and the Sieur Denys Berardier, greffier to the Chancery, was accordingly charged with the construction of a wooden fort on the Champagne Saint-Nicolas, which one party of the citizens was to defend, and another to escalade.

The worthy greffier published in the following year an account of this mimic combat, which makes very entertaining reading.[12] The fort, he tells us, was fifty feet square, with a tower at each angle; the walls were fifteen feet high, and the ditches ten feet wide. Several pieces of cannon were mounted on the ramparts, which were manned by arquebusiers and pikemen. The attacking party, to the number of some 1,500 men, armed de pied en cap, advanced to the assault, and a Homeric struggle ensued, which bore much too close a resemblance to actual warfare to suit the feminine portion of the spectators, who prayed fervently that their husbands and sons might emerge from it scathless. At first, the assailants had the advantage, and planting their scaling-ladders against the walls, swarmed up them and sprang over the ramparts; but the garrison greeted them with a hail of stones, "so large that they could scarcely be raised in both hands," and drove them back in confusion.

Then, Henri II, who had been an interested spectator of the combat, rode up to a body of pikemen who were marching to the assistance of the stormers, and cried out: "Courage, courage, my lads! Succour your comrades! Are you going to allow yourselves to be beaten to-day?"  "And the said assailants," continues the writer, "hearing the words of the prince, received so great an accession of energy and were inspired with such boldness, that they entered and won the said fort, though this was not accomplished without effusion of blood and many concussions and broken limbs."

It is a relief to learn, however, that, "owing to the intercessions and prayers which the wives of the assailants and the defenders made during the combat, no deaths supervened," and that "the lord King, the princes, and the gentlemen of the Court were very delighted and satisfied with the capture of the said fort."

The royal cortège, continuing its journey, passed through Dauphine and Savoy, both Chambéry — the ancient capital of the Dukes of Savoy — and Saint-Jean-de-Maurienne being honoured by state entries,[13] crossed the Alps by the pass of Susa, and in the middle of August arrived at Turin, where his Majesty was received by the Prince of Melfi, governor of Piedmont.

Brilliant fétés followed the arrival of the Court at Turin, for Henri, on the advice of the Constable, had resolved to surround himself with all possible magnificence, "in order to give at the beginning a lofty idea of his reign to foreigners, and particularly in Italy."[14] He ennobled a number of prominent persons, doubled the pay of the troops, and distributed the soldiers who had been disabled in the recent war among the abbeys of France, where they were maintained for the rest of their lives. This arrangement, which was called at that time "ung donné," and was continued by the successors of Henri II, was the first formal recognition of the duty of the State towards the soldier who had suffered in its service.[15]

The King did not make himself less welcome among the inhabitants of Piedmont than among the troops, for he charged himself with all the debts owing to the Piedmontese by soldiers who had died or disappeared, which amounted to a very considerable sum.

Henri's arrival in Italy synchronised in a highly suspicious manner with another conspiracy against the Doria at Genoa, and a plot against the life of the Milanese viceroy by the sons of Pierluigi Farnese. Both these enterprises failed, however, and the only direct result of the King's journey was the annexation of the marquisate of Saluzzo, lying in the southern angle of the Western Alps, whose titular ruler had just died in the prison into which the French had thrown him, on a charge of treasonable correspondence with the Imperialists. The possession of this little State was of great importance to France, since it offered a sure means of communication between her and Italy, and it remained French territory until 1601.

Notes

(1) In our account of the Sacre, we have followed the official account, published in Godefroy, le Cérémonial de France (Paris, 1619).

(2) The Holy Ampulla was supposed to be the vessel with which Saint-Rémy baptized Clovis, though no allusion to the miracle to which it owed its origin is to be found in any contemporary document, and Hinckmar, Archbishop of Rheims, who wrote more than three hundred and fifty years after the baptism of Clovis, is the first to mention it. Hinckmar, indeed, is strongly suspected of having invented the legend, for the twofold purpose of assuring to his church the monopoly of the "sacres," and of investing the unction received by Charles le Chauve, of whom he was a staunch adherent, with an importance which it would not otherwise have possessed. According to him, when Saint-Rémy was about to baptize Clovis, the crowd about them was so great that the priest who was bringing the holy oil was unable to approach. Saint-Rémy was in despair, but suddenly a snow-white dove was seen descending from heaven, bearing a little phial, which it placed on the altar, and immediately disappeared. The phial, when opened, was found to contain oil, which diffused a most delightful odour. It was used for the baptism of Clovis and subsequently for the anointing of the Kings of France.

This miraculous phial was called the Holy Ampulla, and was preserved at Rheims, in the Abbey of Saint-Rémy, in an oval reliquary of silver-gilt set with jewels, with the representation of a dove holding it between its claws in the centre. The oil which it contained had solidified with time and become of a reddish brown colour. At the moment of the anointing of a king, a tiny portion was extracted with a golden needle and mixed with the chrism.

The Holy Ampulla was broken to pieces, in 1793, by Ruhl, the deputy in mission to the department of the Marne, but before it was delivered to the Conventionalist, the Abbé Seraine, curé of Saint-Rémy, had extracted a part of its contents, and this was carefully preserved and used at the coronation of Charles X, in 1825.

(3) As Montmorency's presence in his official capacity was, of course, required in the cathedral, his place was taken by his eldest son.

(4) These banners were afterwards hung up in the cathedral, two on either side of the altar, in memory of the honour which had been conferred upon their owners.

(5) The lay peers wore "tunics of gold damask, reaching to the knee, mantles of scarlet and purple serge, with round capes trimmed with spotted ermine, and coronets on their heads, enriched with gems of inestimable value."

(6) The two last prelates were not peers, but they represented the Bishops of Laon and Troyes, who were at Rome.

(7) The camisole of crimson satin was one of the Coronation vestments, which were kept at the Abbey of Saint-Denis. The others were the tunic, the dalmatica, the mantle, and the buskins, which were all of azure satin, splendidly embroidered and enriched with priceless gems. The Coronation ornaments were the great and smaller crowns, the sceptre, the Hand of Justice, the sword, and the spurs. On the accession of Henri II, the vestments were found to have so much deteriorated that the King ordered fresh ones to be made

(8) Although they were both cardinals, they are referred to throughout the official account as bishops, since it was as ecclesiastical peers, and not as members of the Sacred College, that they officiated.

(9) It was the sub-prior who came, the grand prior, the Cardinal de Lenoncourt, being then at Rome.

(10) See p. 62 supra.

(11) Cited by Aubertin, le Roi Henri IIe à Beaune en 1548. Now that pageants are so much the vogue, it may not be without interest to know that on May 21, 1888, a pageant representing the entry of Henri II and Catherine de' Medici into Beaune was performed in that town with great success. A singular feature of this pageant was that the actors were forbidden to cry "Vive le roi!" and "Vive la reine!" from fear lest such expressions should be misinterpreted.

(12) La Prinse d'un fort, à l'entrée du roy Henri second de ce nom, faicte en la ville de Beaulne le XVIIIe jour de juillet dernier passé, rédigé far escript par maistre Denys Berardier, greffier de la Chancellerie de Beaulne, etc. (Paris, 1549), cited by Aubertin, le Roi Henri II à Beaune en 1548.

(13) At Saint-Jean-de-Maurienne a novel diversion had been prepared for the King. On his arrival, he was met by a troop of one hundred men clothed in the skins of bears, and "so cleverly disguised that they might have been taken for real bears," who followed him on all-fours to the church, whither he proceeded to hear Mass, and afterwards escorted him to his lodging, climbing up walls and the columns of the market-place, and imitating the howling of the animals they represented. Their antics appear to have entertained his Majesty greatly, and he distributed among them a sum of 2,000 écus; but the din they made frightened the horses of his escort, which had been tethered outside the church, with the result that they stampeded and injured a number of people.

(14) Decrue, Anne, duc de Montmorency.

(15) Henri Martin; La Barre Duparc, Histoire de Henri II.

Chapter XVIII

Revolt against the gabelle, or salt tax, in the south-western provinces — Insurrection at Bordeaux — Murder of the Sieur de Moneins, the King's lieutenant in Guienne — The Constable despatched to Bordeaux — His punishment of the city — The severities inflicted on the Bordelais defended by the Constable's biographer, M. Decrue — State entry of the King into Lyons — Glorification of Diane de Poitiers — Marriages of Antoine de Bourbon and Jeanne d'Albret, and of François de Guise and Anne d'Este — State entry of the King into Paris — Persecution of the Protestants — Henri II and the martyr

IN the midst of the festivities at Turin alarming news arrived from France: Guienne and Saintonge had risen in revolt against the gabelle, or salt tax.

Until the last years of the previous reign the inhabitants of the south-western coasts, which were covered with salt- marshes, had been exempted from a part of this impost; but in 1541 François I, finding himself at the end of his resources, had decided that the gabelle should be levied- equally in all the provinces of the kingdom. The salt of the Aquitaine marshes, on account of its superior quality, was in great demand in England, Holland, and North Germany, and had been for centuries a source of prosperity for that coast. But the increase of the tax ruined the industry and deprived thousands of poor people of their only means of livelihood; while all classes were indignant at a clause in the ordinance which compelled the head of every family to purchase at an exorbitant price a certain quantity of salt each year from the royal storehouses. So intense was their resentment that they even attempted resistance, and Rochelle became the centre of a revolt, which, however, was suppressed without bloodshed, François generously pardoning the Rochellois. But he did not revoke the fatal edict, which was confirmed by Henri II on his accession to the throne.

The tax was rendered all the more odious by the way in which it was collected. A swarm of hungry officials descended like locusts on Guienne and Saintonge, "devouring the substance of the people and only departing when they had made enormous fortunes." The "gabeleurs," as they were called, committed, under the protection of the law, all kinds of exaction and frauds, invading houses in search of contraband salt, harassing the dealers, imposing arbitrary fines for the smallest infraction of the edict, and imprisoning all who were either unwilling or unable to pay them. "Their insolence," writes Paradin, "was more intolerable than the tax itself," while, to make matters worse, "those who had charge of the salt depots were accused of mixing sand with the salt."[01]

Goaded to exasperation by the tyranny of the "gabeleurs," in May 1548 the inhabitants of Blansac, Barbezieux, and the neighbouring towns and villages rose in revolt, proclaimed the commune of Saintonge, and proceeded to elect "colonels" to command them. One band, led by a gentleman of Barbezieux named Puymoreau, entered Saintes and Cognac, sacked the houses of the officers of justice and the finances, murdered the receiver of the gabelle, and broke open the prisons and set at liberty a number of dealers in contraband salt who were confined there. Another captured one of the chief tax-collectors near Cognac and drowned him in the river, crying out in derision: "Go, you scoundrelly gabeleur, and salt the fish of the Charente."

By August, the insurgent forces, constantly recruited by beggars, outlaws, and other bad characters, had swollen to nearly 50,000 men, who marched up and down the country, burning, pillaging, and murdering. All well-to-do persons, we are told, were tax-collectors in their eyes, and were robbed indiscriminately, under the pretence that they were "gabeleurs"; nor were the scoundrels content with plundering, "but must needs address them familiarly in the second person singular, without any rhyme or reason. So enraged was the populace with the abuse of the tax."[02]

From Saintonge the movement spread to Guienne, and the commune was proclaimed on the banks of the Gironde. The governor of Guienne, Henri d'Albret, King of Navarre, had followed the King to Turin, but his lieutenant, the Sieur de Moneins, a cousin of the Constable, was at Bayonne; and, at the request of the Parlement and the jurats of Bordeaux, he proceeded thither to endeavour to re-establish order. Moneins, a courageous but imprudent man, instead of taking counsel with the Parlement and the municipal authorities as to the best means of pacifying the populace, summoned a meeting of the inhabitants at the Hotel de Ville, and informed his audience that the gibbet would be the fate of all those misguided persons who followed the example of the neighbouring towns. A rich merchant named Guillotin interrupted him, crying out that the people of Saintonge and Guienne were doing well in vindicating by arms the liberty of their ancestors; the tocsin sounded, the mob rose, seized the Arsenal, murdered a number of Government officials, tax-collectors, priests, and wealthy citizens, and sacked their houses; and Moneins and his suite had to fly to the Château Trompette, where they shut themselves up.

After a time, the First President of the Parlement, La Chassaigne, succeeded in restoring some semblance of order, and, on the assurance that the riot was at an end and that the people were prepared to listen to reason, Moneins was persuaded to quit his asylum and descend into the town. No sooner had he appeared than the tumult broke out afresh; a ferocious mob fell upon the King's lieutenant, and, despite the efforts of La Chassaigne and other magistrates to protect him, massacred him and all his people, after which the people cut open his body, filled it with salt, and left it unburied. They then, under the threat of instant death, compelled La Chassaigne, the two brothers Du Sault, the one captain of the town, the other commandant of the Château du Ha, and the jurats, to become their leaders, in order to throw on them the responsibility for the insurrection, and for some days "the greatest insolences and the most brutal cruelties were practised in the town of Bordeaux."

La Chassaigne and the other notables, though for a time they affected to sympathise with the popular cause, employed the power which had been thrust upon them in the interests of the royal authority, and were supported by the better-class citizens, who, disgusted by the excesses of the mob, went over in a body to their side. The gates of the town were closed, so as to prevent the peasants from the surrounding country coming in to reinforce the insurgents; the Parlement and the jurats were re-established in their authority, and the ringleader of the populace, one Lavergne, was brought to trial, condemned to death, and broken on the wheel. By the middle of September, the insurrection had been practically quelled, and the Parlement wrote to inform the King that, with the aid of a few troops, peace would be completely re-established, and to implore his clemency for the offenders.

The Court had been disagreeably surprised by the news from the south-western provinces; but it did not appear at first to have realised the gravity of the movement. However, on learning of the rapid spread of the insurrection, Henri II decided to return to France, and in the first week in September he crossed the Alps.

On the King's arrival in Dauphiné, effective measures were at once taken. The Duc d'Aumale was despatched to Tours, where he took command of 4,000 landsknechts and marched at their head on Poitiers, to attack the commune from the north; while Montmorency, with 1,000 men-at-arms, descended the Rhône to Nimes and advanced towards Bordeaux by way of Toulouse, being reinforced en route by levies from Languedoc and Guienne.

At Toulouse, where he arrived on October 3, he received the First President of the Parlement and the jurats of Bordeaux, who endeavoured to persuade him that there was now no longer any necessity to employ force in order to re-establish the royal authority in the guilty town. Several chroniclers state that Montmorency made use of very threatening language; but, so far from this being the case, he appears to have dissimulated his intentions. "I sent them back to the said town," wrote he to Aumale, "with the most soft and kindly words that it was possible for me to employ, in such wise that I have greatly reassured them."[03]

On the 7th, he left Toulouse and advanced, without encountering any resistance from the insurgents, to Pujols, where he was joined by the corps of Aumale, which had already effected the pacification of Saintonge and the Angoumois. At Langon, on the Gironde, he received a second deputation from the Bordelais, which arrived in "a large and very magnificent barge, containing rooms and salons with glass windows, and painted in gold and azure and decorated with his Arms." The deputation, after handing the Constable the keys of the town, advised him to embark in this barge and to leave his landsknechts behind him, since otherwise they would not be answerable for the conduct of the citizens. But there was no longer any need for Montmorency to dissemble, and he haughtily rejected the proposal, declaring, with a wave of his hand towards the cannon which he had brought with him, that he possessed keys which would open the most obstinate gates.

On October 19, he entered Bordeaux[04] with his entire army and exacted a terrible retribution for the atrocities committed during the insurrection. The citizens were declared "attainted and convicted of the crimes of sedition, rebellion, and lèse-majesté," and deprived of all their franchises, liberties, and immunities; their charters were publicly burned; the mairie was razed to the ground; the church bells and the artillery carried away, and the Parlement replaced by a chamber of royal commissaries. The town was also condemned to pay a fine of 200,000 livres; to surrender to the Crown the income of certain lands belonging to the municipality worth 40,000 livres a year; to furnish bronze for the casting of 500 cannon; to fortify the Château Trompette, and to provide two galleys for the protection of its garrison. The body of the unfortunate Moneins was ordered to be exhumed[05] and conveyed for interment to the Cathedral of Saint-André by the jurats and one hundred and twenty delegates from the municipal council, dressed in mourning and carrying lighted tapers in their hands. On passing the Constable's lodging, they were compelled to fall on their knees and ask pardon of God, the King, and Justice. On the spot where the murder had been committed an expiatory chapel was erected.

Meanwhile, the provost-marshal and his assistants were being kept busy. Nearly one hundred and fifty "makers and authors of sedition" were condemned to death, among them being the two brothers Du Sault, whom the insurgents had compelled to join them, and one of the jurats, named Lestonnac, a relative of Montaigne. La Chassaigne, notwithstanding the services which he had rendered in the restoration of order, was thrown into prison, and afterwards brought to trial before the Parlement of Toulouse, which, however, acquitted him.

The executions, if we are to believe the Vieilleville Mémoires, were marked by the most revolting brutality, and the judges and the provost-marshal showed a diabolical ingenuity in the punishments they devised for the most guilty of the offenders. The condemned were "hanged, decapitated, broken on the wheel, impaled, dismembered by four horses, and burned at the stake, and three were put to death in a manner whereof we have never heard any one speak, which was called 'mailloter.' They were attached by the middle of the body to a scaffold, face downwards, their arms and legs being left at liberty, and the executioner, with an iron pestle, broke and crushed the limbs, without touching either the head or the body."[06] The peasants of the surrounding districts, who had been guilty of even worse excesses than the Bordelais, were treated with scarcely less severity, and the gibbet and the wheel continued to claim their victims for several months.

The statements of the writer and of the enemies of Montmorency, which have been readily accepted by Sismondi and other liberal historians, have caused the repression of the commune in Guienne to be regarded as one of the most odious acts of Henry II's reign, and the Constable as an inhuman monster; while the King, who subsequently expressed his cordial approval of the measures adopted, is made to share his responsibility. In the opinion, however, of Montmorency's latest biographer, the cruelties perpetrated have been much exaggerated, and severe as the punishment inflicted undoubtedly was, it was not more so than the circumstances justified.

"To judge of the events of the past from the standpoint of the present," he writes, "is absurd. If the laws of morality are immutable, their application varies according to the times and the circumstances. . . . If there had been some excess, occasionally even some injustice, was it not absolutely legal? Towns stormed, houses pillaged, officials massacred, and not only they, but priests, gentlemen, advocates, private persons; the King's representative infamously assassinated at the moment when he was lending himself to conciliation; did not all this call for vengeance? We punish, in our own day, such assassinations, such crimes of rebellion: with the stronger reason ought we to admit the right of the absolute monarchy of Henri II to show severity. The ocular witnesses of these events who do not allow themselves to be guided by hatred, the Belleforests, the Bordenaves, are more impressed by the crimes of the commune than by the repression of the Constable. Brantôme says himself of Anne de Montmorency: 'He inflicted an exemplary punishment, but certainly not so rigorous as the case required, which was such that it could not have been expiated by rivers of blood, as was said then. . . . That is why some people were disappointed with the Constable over this punishment, which it was considered he ought to have made more cruel and sanguinary.' Thus the impartial writers of the time justify Montmorency."[07]

The blood shed during the commune was not shed in vain, for the Estates of Poitou, Saintonge, Angoumois, Limousin, and Perigord petitioned the King that the districts in which the revolt had broken out should be permitted to purchase their exemption from the gabelle; and in September 1549, Henri II, in consideration of a single payment of 200,000 écus, decided to reduce the tax in the south-western provinces to one-quarter of that paid by the rest of France.

As for Bordeaux, the sentence which had been pronounced against it was soon revoked, for the Government felt that, in view of a probable war with England, it would be imprudent to provide a town which had for so long been an English possession with so powerful an inducement to return to its former masters. When, therefore, in the summer of 1549, the Bordelais humbly solicited the King's pardon, both the Constable and François de Guise advised his Majesty to accord it, and in October Bordeaux recovered all its rights and liberties, and was even released from the fine of 200,000 livres; while in the following January its Parlement was re-established.

While terror and mourning reigned at Bordeaux, another of the great towns of France was the theatre of the most magnificent fétés. For on September 23, 1548, Henri II, on his return from Turin, made his "superb and triumphal entry into the noble and ancient city of Lyons."

On the 21st, the King joined the Queen and Diane de Poitiers at Ainay, and on the 23rd their Majesties descended the Rhône in an immense gondola to Vaise, where a splendid pavilion had been made ready for their reception. But what was the astonishment and mortification of Catherine to perceive on entering that it was Diane and not herself whom the Lyonnais desired to honour, after the King! The doors, the windows, the walls, the very chair on which she sat, all bore the H and D interlaced: — the monogram of her husband and his mistress — which from the first weeks of the reign had appeared on the royal liveries, and which was to figure on the walls of the Louvre and of every public building erected in France. It was true that the cypher might be read in two ways, and, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, there are still historians who maintain that it was intended for the initials H and C (Henri-Catherine).[08] But any doubt as to the significance attached to it by the citizens of Lyons was removed, when the municipal officers came to do homage to the King and kissed the hand of Diane before that of Catherine. The mistress had desired that her supremacy should be acknowledged in the provinces, and Saint-André, Sénéchal of the Lyonnais, had obligingly arranged the matter with the complaisant burghers, only too willing to gratify the King and her whom he delighted to honour. Never had Queen of France to submit to so cruel a humiliation; not even the long-suffering consort of Louis XV![09]

CATHERINE DE MEDICI, QUEEN OF FRANCE, ABOUT 1555

FROM A DRAWING BY AN UNKNOWN ARTIST IN THE BIBLIOTHÈQUE SAINTE-GENEVIÈVE

And within the town, where, on passing the gates, the royal guests suddenly found themselves in an artificial forest, it was the same. Through the trees came a group of nymphs, and their leader — a girl of striking beauty — represented the goddess of the chase, with bow in hand and quiver on shoulder. She held a tame lion by a silver chain, and, leading the great beast to the King, begged him, in appropriate verses, to accept at her hands the town of Lyons.

Everywhere, too — mocking and exultant — was the monogram to be seen; on the magnificent triumphal arches and obelisks, engravings of several of which have been preserved, on the draperies which hung from the windows, on the flags which floated on the breeze. Catherine made her entry the day after her husband, borne in an open litter, and so covered with diamonds that the eye grew tired, but infinitely less remarked than the heroine of the fête, riding behind her on a palfrey, modestly dressed in black and white.

From Lyons, the King and the Court proceeded to Moulins to assist at the marriage of Antoine de Bourbon, Duc de Vendôme, with Jeanne d'Albret. Henri II had personally negotiated this affair. Renouncing the hope of obtaining the consent of his aunt Marguerite, who aspired to a far higher alliance for her only child, he had seduced Henri d'Albret by promising him an expedition to recover Upper Navarre from Spain and an additional pension of 15,000 livres, of which, however, only a single payment was ever made. The young princess was willing enough to marry in her own country, and to have a husband of whom she was graciously pleased to approve; but her mother was exasperated, and did all in her power to turn her husband and her son-in-law against the King, and also against the Constable, who had counselled the marriage.

This alliance, from which was born the future Henri IV, made Antoine heir to the crown of Navarre and materially increased the importance of the Bourbons; but they had little ambition and less capacity, and their rivals, the Guises, who possessed both, had already negotiated a marriage which was to counterbalance that of the Duc de Vendôme. This was between the Duc d'Aumale and Anne d'Este, daughter of Hercule II, Duke of Ferrara, and cousin german to the King by her mother Renée, daughter of Louis XII and sister-in-law of François I. The King provided the dowry of the bride, and the marriage was celebrated with great splendour at Saint-Germain on October 4, 1548, after the return of François de Guise from the south.

The chief public events of the year 1549 were the coronation of Catherine at Saint-Denis and the State entries of the King and Queen. Catherine was crowned on June 10, and her entry took place on the 18th. The King made his entry on the 16th, preceded by the regular and secular clergy of Paris, the University, the Corps de Ville, the civic dignitaries, the Parlement, and representatives of all the trades of the city, butchers, tailors, carpenters, and so forth, and followed by the whole Court. Prominent in the procession were "3,500 printers, dressed in black and equipped as men of war, with corselets, morions, etc." Why the printers had elected to appear in such numbers and in martial array, the chronicler does not tell us. Perhaps, however, it was intended as a gentle hint that they would be prepared to resist any undue interference with the liberty of their trade.

The King himself presented a most gorgeous spectacle. He wore "a suit of white armour, over which was a tunic of cloth of silver. The scabbard of his sword was of silver enriched with rubies and diamonds. His hat was of white satin covered with silver lace, with a white plume, sown with a great number of pearls, of which, apart from their excellence and beauty, the value was inestimable; and he rode a beautiful and mettlesome white charger caparisoned in cloth of silver." A canopy of light blue velvet, sown with golden fleurs-de-lis, fringed with gold and embroidered with his arms and monogram, was held over his head by the four sheriffs of Paris.[10]

In the times of the last Valois pleasure and cruelty existed side by side, and the fétés which celebrated Henri II's entry into the capital were, so to speak, illuminated by the flames which consumed the martyrs of the Reformed faith.

On the King's accession, it had seemed for a moment that an era of something approaching religious toleration was to be inaugurated, or, at least, that the new Court would decline to countenance the barbarous persecutions which had disgraced the old. Animated by the desire to condemn the work of his father's Ministers, Henri II caused proceedings to be instituted against the President d'Oppède, of the Parlement of Aix, Paulin de la Garde, and a number of other persons concerned in the massacre of the Vaudois of Cabrières and Mérindol. But, after one of the less important culprits had been condemned to death and executed, the affair was proceeded with in a very half-hearted manner, and eventually allowed to drop.

The desire to secure the friendship of Paul III, the importance of which the Guises continued to insist on, notwithstanding the events of 1548, rendered it necessary to conciliate the Papacy; and, after abandoning in favour of the Pope the right of collation to benefices in Brittany and Provence, and forbidding the Parlements to interfere with the apostolic jurisdiction in these provinces, the King proceeded to a rigorous enforcement of the decrees against heresy, and a special chamber in the Parlement of Paris, called the "Chambre ardente," was established to deal with the unhappy Huguenots.

It would be unfair, however, to judge Henri II too harshly in this matter. Although his religious views were narrow and bigoted, he was at heart a kindly man, who disliked the idea of inflicting suffering; and it is very improbable that he would have taken any such measures on his own initiative. But he was easily influenced, and, on the present occasion, the fanaticism of the Constable and the policy of the Guises both urged him in the same direction; while Diane was even more hostile to the Protestants, who had very little respect for kings' mistresses, and did not hesitate to express the opinion which they entertained of her. This, as the following incident will show, had tended to exasperate the King no less than his inamorata, and to render him pitiless.

"That same year," writes Théodore de Bèze, "the King having made his very triumphal entry into his town of Paris, a poor tailor, surprised by the provost, was brought before him, as though in derision and to make sport. Some think that the King, having heard it said that there were several prisoners of the Religion, was desirous of seeing and hearing one of them; and, learning of this, the cardinal [de Guise], who knew that some of them were learned in the Scriptures, from fear that the King, if he saw them, might be somewhat touched with compassion, selected this poor tailor, who was of no appearance, and who, he imagined, would lose the power of speech at sight of the King and of the many persons of quality who surrounded him. But he was very deceived.

For this poor man, fortified by strength from above, spoke so well and so boldly of the Religion, that every one was astonished at it. But the Sénéchale wished also to amuse herself by questioning him, which this faithful servant of God was unable to endure. ' Madame,' said he, 'rest satisfied with having corrupted France, and do not mingle your filth with a thing so sacred as the Truth of God.' This speech so greatly exasperated him who loved nothing in the world so much as this lady, that he wished to see the tailor burned alive in the Rue Saint-Antoine, at the termination of a general procession. Three others were burned on the same day, the 4th of July, and several more shortly afterwards; but never since that time did the King wish to assist at this spectacle, by which he was so horrified, that he said on several occasions since that it seemed to him that on the following night he saw this person, and that even in the daytime the fear came over him that he was following him; in consequence of which he swore that he would never again witness a burning, so dearly had he paid for this pleasure."[11]

Unhappily, the King did not swear to burn no more, and the "Chambre ardente" exercised the powers entrusted to it so remorselessly, that when, towards the end of 1549, an edict remitted to the ecclesiastical judges the decision in trials for "simple heresy," it was regarded by the Protestants almost as an abatement of the severity with which they were being treated.

Policy and religious intolerance were not the only motives of the persecutions. As a sentence of death was always followed by the confiscation of property, it was to the interests of the avaricious courtiers to stimulate the zeal of the authorities all over the country and to bring as many well-to-do offenders to trial as possible. According to the Mémoires de Vieilleville, it was the practice of the King's favourites to obtain from his Majesty a promise of all the confiscated estates of Protestants in certain districts, in return for which they undertook to discover and extirpate heresy therein. Unscrupulous lawyers were then entrusted with the prosecutions, and agents employed to keep a vigilant eye on suspected persons, and, where evidence was wanting, to manufacture it. Carloix relates how one day Saint-André's brother-in-law, Apchon, and several other courtiers brought his master a patent from the King, with his name at the head, conferring upon them a share in the confiscations in certain of the south-western provinces, and informed him that they were sending one Boys, a rascally lawyer of Périgueux, to the districts in question to superintend operations; and that this Boys had undertaken that each of them should receive twenty thousand crowns in less than four months. Vieilleville, we are told, indignantly refused to enrich himself by such atrocious means, declaring that "it would be to incur the pains of hell for next to nothing," and, drawing his dagger, ran the point of it through his name and left the room. Few, however, seem to have been of his opinion.

Notes

(1) Histoire de notre temps.

(2) Paradin.

(3) Letter of October 6, 1548, in Decrue, Anne, duc de Montmorency.

(4) By the Porte des Augustins, and not by a breach which his cannon had made in the walls, as De Thou, Mézeray, and several later historians state.

(5) According to De Thou, the citizens were compelled to disinter the body with their nails.

(6) Mémoires de Vieilleville.

(7) Decrue, Anne, duc de Montmorency.

(8) The arguments for the H and D are admirably summarized by Miss Hay in her monograph on Diane, "Madame Dame Dianne de Poytiers." The most conclusive is that Henri II signed his letters to Diane with the same cypher.

(9) La magnificence de la superbe et triumphante entrée de la noble et antique cite' de Lyon faicte au trèschrestien roy de France, Henri deuxiesme de ce nom et au Royne Catherine son espouse, le XXIII Septembre, 1548 (Lyon, 1549); M. Henri Bouchot, Catherine de Médicis; Brantôme.

(10) L'Ordre qui a esté tenu à la nouvelle et joyeuse entrée que le Roy Henry deuzième de ce nom, a faicte en sa cité de Paris, le seizième jour de juin, 1549 (Paris, 1549).

(11) Théodore de Bèze, Histoire ecclesiastique des Églises réformées au royaume de France. According to De Thou, Henri II witnessed the horrible spectacle from one of the windows of the Hôtel de Rochepot, belonging to the Constable's second son; and the tailor, observing the King, "proceeded to regard him so fixedly that nothing was able to divert his glance."

Chapter XIX

Strained relations between France and England — Affairs of Scotland — Project of the Guises to marry their niece Mary Stuart to the Dauphin — Invasion of Scotland by the Protector Somerset and Battle of Pinkie — The Scotch nobility offer the hand of the little Queen to the Dauphin — French troops are despatched to the assistance of the Scots — Convention of Haddington — Mary Stuart is brought to France — Henri II's instructions to Humières, gouverneur of the Children of France, concerning her — His letter to the Queen-Dowager of Scotland — Progress of hostilities in Scotland — The War of Boulogne — Peace is concluded between England and France, and a marriage arranged between Edward VI and Madame Élisabeth, eldest daughter of Henri II

MEANWHILE, important questions of foreign policy had been again engaging the attention of Henri II and his Ministers.

By the terms of the treaty of 1546, Boulogne had been left in the possession of England for eight years, at the expiration of which it was to be restored to France on payment of 800,000 crowns; but the frontier line of the tract of country surrendered with it had been left undetermined at the peace, and the question was still being debated when François I died. Soon after the accession of Henri II, the English and French commissioners employed on the survey arrived at a settlement; but Henri II, who had not forgiven England the repulse he had suffered at Boulogne in 1544, and cherished the hope of one day avenging this mortification, declined to ratify the arrangement, and persisted in prolonging an uncertainty which might at any time become the occasion of a fresh quarrel. The Protector Somerset retaliated by running out a long embankment towards the sea. "It is but a jetty to amend the haven, and save both your ships and ours," said the English, when the French protested against it as a breach of a clause in the treaty which provided that, while Boulogne remained in English occupation, no fresh fortifications were to be erected. But it was obviously intended to carry cannon and command the approaches to the harbour, and the relations between the two governments became very strained indeed.

The ill-feeling was intensified by the affairs of Scotland. In 1543, the Scotch Assembly had promised the hand of their infant Queen to the young prince who had now become Edward VI; but French influence had prevented the fulfilment of this engagement, and Cardinal Beaton and the Catholic party drew the country into another war with England. The engagement had, however, never been legally cancelled, and no sooner had Edward VI ascended the English throne than, in accordance with the dying wishes of the late King, the Duke of Somerset demanded that it should be executed.

Meanwhile, Henri II had become King, and the brothers of the Queen-Dowager of Scotland, the Guises, had risen to power in France. The latter were quick to perceive how greatly a marriage between their niece and the Dauphin would add to their own influence and importance; and they urged the King to this step as the only means of preventing the marriage of Mary and Edward and the union of the two crowns. The project of the Guises accorded too closely with the traditional policy of France towards England and Scotland to meet with any opposition from the King, and even the Constable, much as he might fear the increase of his rivals' influence, felt obliged to express his approval.

Had Somerset been content to exercise patience and to confine himself to supporting the English party in Scotland, it is certain that a very few years would have seen the extinction of French influence in the northern kingdom, and with it all opposition to the marriage of the little Queen to Edward VI. But such methods of reaching the goal were but ill suited to his haughty and ambitious temper, and, finding the Scots still deaf to persuasion, he resolved to employ force, and on September 4, 1547 he crossed the border, at the head of an army of 18,000 men. Forgetting their differences for the moment, all parties in Scotland united to oppose the invader, for even those who, like the Earl of Huntly, "disliked not the match, hated the manner of the wooing"; but at Pinkie Cleugh, on September 10, the two armies met, and the Scots were utterly routed, with frightful slaughter. This defeat, instead of obliging the Scots to sue for peace, decided them to throw themselves without reserve into the arms of France; and the nobility, on the entreaty of the Queen-Dowager, offered the hand of Mary to the Dauphin, and consented that the little Queen should be brought up at the French Court until she had reached a marriageable age. Henri II immediately accepted the offer, and promised to make Scotland's quarrel his own; and in the spring of 1548 preparations were begun in the French ports for the transport of an army thither.

It is probable that Somerset, whom want of supplies had compelled to withdraw across the border, might have purchased the non-interference of France by the cession of Boulogne, which Henri II ardently desired to recover. But his pride shrank from such a sacrifice, and, in the hope of breaking down the resistance of the Scots before help could reach them from France, he determined on another invasion. In April, accordingly, an English army under Lord Grey and Sir Thomas Palmer invaded Scotland, took and garrisoned Haddington and laid waste the country round Edinburgh, after which it retired to Berwick.

In June, the French expedition sailed from Brest. It consisted of sixty transports and twenty-two galleys, with 6,000 men on board. The command of the troops was entrusted to André de Montalembert, Sieur d'Essé, who had distinguished himself in the defence of Landrecies in 1544 — a defence which had gained him the post of gentleman of the Chamber, although, according to Brantôme, he was "more fitted to give a camisado to the enemy than the shirt to the King." With him were Catherine de' Medici's cousin, Piero Strozzi, and Andelot, nephew of the Constable. Villegaignon, who was afterwards so unfortunately associated with Coligny's colonial enterprise, commanded the fleet.

The French landed at Leith on June 16, and having been joined by the Regent with 8,000 Scots, laid siege to Haddington, in which Grey and Palmer had left a garrison of 2,500 men. On July 7, amid the ruins of an abbey which the English had destroyed, was held "a Parliament of all the Estates," known as the Convention of Haddington, when it was agreed that the crowns of France and Scotland were to be formally and for ever united, though Scotland was to retain her ancient laws and liberties, and that the little Queen should be brought up at the French Court with the children of Henri II until her marriage.

This decision, as Froude and other historians have shown, was not arrived at with the unanimity which the formal records of the convention might lead us to suppose, for there were some who believed that a union with France constituted as grave a menace to Scottish independence as a union with England. Moreover, Somerset had made a belated attempt to repair his error, by promising to abstain from interference in the affairs of Scotland until Edward VI was of age, if the Scots, on their part, would enter into no engagements with the French, at the same time suggesting that the question of their Queen's marriage should be deferred for ten years, when she should be free to make her own choice; and, though his proposals were scouted by the great majority, a few were inclined to regard them as reasonable.

These symptoms of dissent showed that, when the exasperation caused by recent events had abated, it was far from improbable that the Estates might repent of their present decision, as they had repented of that of 1543 in favour of Edward, and determined Marie de Guise to remove her daughter forthwith beyond the reach of the English. Instructions were therefore sent to Villegaignon, who lay with his galleys in the harbour of Leith, to proceed to Dumbarton, whither the young Queen had been sent for security after the disaster of Pinkie, take her and her suite on board, and proceed straight to France. That resourceful sailor at once weighed anchor, and, by steering a southward course, deluded the English ships which were waiting at the mouth of the Forth into the belief that he was making for the coast of France. But, when night fell, he put about, and, rounding the Orkneys, reached the Clyde.

Accompanied by Artus de Brézé, Henri II's Ambassador to the Scottish Court, whose letters to the Queen-Mother contain some interesting details of the voyage,[01] and a numerous suite — which included her half-brother, Lord James Stuart (the future Regent Murray), Janet Stuart, Lady Fleming, a natural daughter of James IV, of whom more anon, the four Maries of the Houses of Fleming, Beaton, Seton, and Livingston, and Lords Erskine and Livingston — the little Queen embarked in Villegaignon's galley, and the admiral at once put to sea again. Soon after leaving the Clyde, an English squadron was sighted; but, favoured by the wind, the French galleys easily outstripped the enemy's ships, and on August 20 Mary disembarked at the little port of Roscoff,[02] on the coast of Finisterre, now a favourite resort of the English tourist in Brittany. From Roscoff, the little Queen was conducted by easy stages to Nantes, and thence by barge up the Loire to Orléans, where the land journey was resumed. At Tours, she was met by her grandmother, the Duchesse de Guise (Antoinette de Bourbon), who describes her, in a letter to her daughter, the Queen-Dowager of Scotland, as "very pretty indeed, and as intelligent a child as one could wish to see," and expresses the opinion that "when she developed she would be a handsome girl."[03] The duchess accompanied her the rest of the way to Saint-Germain, which was reached about the middle of October.

At the moment of the little Queen's arrival at Saint-Germain the Court was at Moulins, but Henri II had not failed to send very precise instructions concerning his future daughter-in-law to Humières, the gouverneur of the Children of France. Apartments were to be made ready for her in the Château above his own and those of Catherine de' Medici; but, as these arrangements could not be completed in time, she was to be lodged for the present in the neighbouring Château of Carrières, whither the royal children, "who could derive nothing but benefit from a change of air," were to precede her. Advantage was to be taken of the children's absence from Saint-Germain to "cleanse" the Château, the base-court, and the village. Orders were to be given that no person was to be permitted to come to the said Saint-Germain, and especially to the Château whether mason, labourer, or other, from any place suspected of having in it an infectious disease," and Humières was to see that the same was done at Poissy and the surrounding villages, "so that when I shall come there, I may be in no danger." The persons of the Queen's entourage were to be lodged in the vicinity, but Henri II had determined to send them back to Scotland, and had already despatched an officer of his Household to discharge them.

The King also decided Mary's precedence at the Court. "In answer to your question as to the rank which I wish my daughter the Queen of Scotland to occupy," he writes, "I inform you that it is my intention that she should take precedence of my daughters. For the marriage between her and my son is decided and settled; and, apart from that, she is a crowned Queen. And as such it is my wish that she should be honoured and served."[04]

Diane de Poitiers, on behalf of the King, also wrote to Humières. "I have communicated to the King the contents of your letter, and your advice about everything," she writes to him, on October 3, from Tarrare. "The said Lord wishes that Madame Ysabal[05] and the Queen of Scotland should be lodged together; wherefore you will select the best chamber for them both and their suite; for it is the said Lord's wish that they get to know one another."[06]

Soon after the marriage of Antoine de Bourbon and Jeanne d'Albret, Henri II left Moulins and set out for Saint-Germain, accompanied only by a few of his Household, in order "to see Messeigneurs his children and to enjoy their company alone." He arrived on November 9, and was quite charmed with the little Queen, whom he pronounced "the most perfect child that he had ever seen."

The Balcarres MSS. in the Advocates' Library at Edinburgh contain a number of letters written by Henri II to Marie de Guise, Queen-Dowager of Scotland, which were published by the Maitland Club in 1834. The most of the letters refer to purely political matters; but there is one which is of more general interest, since it describes an incident which took place at the marriage-fêtes of François de Guise and Anne d'Este, the first Court function at which the little Queen assisted.

"I should certainly wish you to know, Madame, my good sister," writes the King, "that I had invited to the nuptials of my cousin the Duc Daumalle [d'Aumale], your brother, all the Ambassadors of the princes, who are with me [i.e., at my Court], not omitting him of England, in whose presence I made my son the Dauphin dance with my daughter the Queen of Scotland. And, as he was conversing with the Emperor's Ambassador, my cousin the Cardinal de Guise approached him, to whom I remarked that it was a pretty sight to see them. And my said cousin responded that it was a fine marriage, to which the said Ambassador merely replied that it gave him great pleasure to watch them. Yet I will wager my life that he did not find much therein, and as little in the caresses which he saw me bestow upon them. Such, Madame my good sister, are the tidings of our little household. I wished to tell you them, so that you may experience, yonder, something of the pleasure which I enjoy constantly, and which increases from day to day, when I see my daughter and yours improving continually, which is the greatest satisfaction that I can have."

Hostilities continued in Scotland, while there was some skirmishing in the Boulonnais, and Villegaignon's galleys and English privateers roamed about the Channel and inflicted considerable damage on the shipping of both nations. Singularly enough, there had been no declaration of war by either side, which explains why the English Ambassador still remained at the French Court. In Scotland, little impression was made upon the stubborn garrison of Haddington, and a night-assault attempted by the French at the beginning of October ended in the assailants being repulsed with heavy loss; but by the spring of 1549 all the other fortresses in the hands of the English had fallen.

In the summer, encouraged by the rebellion in England, Henri II determined to invade the Boulonnais in person. At the end of July, a considerable army began assembling between Ardres and Montreuil under the orders of the Constable, and on August 17 the King joined it.

Besides Boulogne itself, the English had several detached works in the vicinity. Froude distinguishes five: one at Bullenberg (Mont-Lambert), on a hill at the back of the town; another at Ambleteuse, where there was a tidal harbour; a third, called Newhaven, at the mouth of the Boulogne river; a fourth, Blackness (Blaconet), a little inland; and the fifth, and most important, on the high ground between Bou-logne and Ambleteuse, called the Almain camp. But, according to Decrue, Froude is in error in supposing that Ambleteuse and Newhaven were separate forts, as they were one and the same.

However that may be, the Almain camp, or Fort Slack, as French historians call it, was the key of the position, and it was against it that Henri II and the Constable first directed their efforts. On the 23rd, the trenches were opened, and at dawn on the morrow five-and-twenty pieces of cannon opened fire on the fort, which was garrisoned by some 500 men. The English, perceiving the hopelessness of resistance, sent two officers to the Constable, to ask that the garrison might be allowed to march out with their arms and baggage. Montmorency replied that they must appeal to the clemency of the King, and, to gain time, conducted them, Protestants though they were, to hear Mass. At that same moment, the French surprised the fort and cut the unsuspecting garrison to pieces — an act of treachery and barbarity which the Constable's biographer wisely does not attempt to palliate.[07]

The fort of Ambleteuse, where the English had established their depot, and Blaconet speedily surrendered, and the communications of Boulogne with the Calais coast were thus completely cut off. Then the King and the Constable turned southwards to threaten Boulogne itself. On their approach, Sir Henry Palmer, who commanded on Mont-Lambert, deeming his position untenable, evacuated the fort, after first setting it on fire; but the French succeeded in extinguishing the flames, and established themselves in the place. It was supposed that Henri II, who had been heard to say that he would recover Boulogne or lose his realm for it, would at once proceed to invest the town in form, or perhaps endeavour to carry it by an immediate assault, and thus avenge his repulse of five years before. But the King recognised that the strength of the garrison and the formidable batteries which had been erected by Henry VIII would render an assault an extremely hazardous undertaking, and might enable the English to prolong their defence into the winter. A terrific storm which burst over the camp and left not a single tent or pavilion standing, followed by two days and nights of incessant rain, decided him to abandon the siege and content himself with a blockade. Having, therefore, garrisoned the captured posts and stationed a number of galleys in the port of Ambleteuse to intercept any supplies coming from England, he disbanded his army and set out with the Constable for Saint-Germain, confident that, by the spring, Boulogne, hemmed in as it now was on all sides, would be reduced to such straits that it must fall an easy prey.

Soon after Henri II's departure, the English Government recalled their Ambassadors, and "for their late manifold injuries and also for that, contrary to faith, honour, and godliness, the French King had taken away the young Scottish Queen, the King's Majesty's espouse, . . . did intimate and declare him and all his subjects to be enemies of the King's Majesty of England." But, notwithstanding this belated declaration of war, no attempt was made to succour Boulogne until the following January, when some 5,000 men under Lord Huntingdon were despatched thither. These reinforcements, however, were only intended to secure honourable terms of surrender, for Somerset had now fallen, and his successor, the Earl of Warwick, recognised that it was impossible to secure any improvement in the state of affairs in England while the constant drain on the resources of the nation caused by the war with France continued. In point of fact, Lord Clinton, the English commander in Boulogne, had already had two conferences with Gaspard de Coligny, who had been entrusted with the command of the blockading force; and on February 20 a truce of fifteen days was concluded, and the English and French plenipotentiaries met between Boulogne and Outreau. The negotiations were facilitated by the intrigues of a Florentine merchant named Antonio Guidotti, a secret agent of the French Court, whom the Constable had sent to London, and who had suggested that the long quarrel between England and France might be fittingly terminated by an alliance between Edward VI and Madame Elisabeth. On March 24, 1550, peace was signed, and England agreed to restore Boulogne within six weeks, in return for a sum of 400,000 crowns, half to be paid upon the spot and half in the following August. Scotland was included in the peace.

On April 25 the Constable's eldest son, François de Montmorency, lieutenant-general of Picardy, took possession of Boulogne, in the name of Henri II. The commandant of the garrison, with all his officers, came to meet the royal representative, and handed him the keys of the town; and, as the French entered by one gate, the English withdrew by the opposite one. On May 15, Ascension Day, the King made his entry into the town, and, in accordance with a vow which he had made two years before, declared the Holy Virgin sovereign of the Boulonnais, and made the cathedral a gift of an image of the Virgin 3 feet 4 inches in height, of massive silver.[08]

Notwithstanding the Treaty of Boulogne, the relations between England and France remained for some months in a far from satisfactory state, as several questions, such as the restoration of the merchant vessels captured by either side during the war and the frontier line of the Calais Pale, had been reserved for future settlement, and proved far from easy to adjust. At one time, indeed, there seemed a danger of a fresh rupture, for the Guises, who hated England, did not fail to make the most of these disagreements, and urged Henri II to follow up his success at Boulogne by the conquest of Guines and Calais. The Constable, however, partly out of hostility to the Guises and partly from a genuine desire for peace, used all his influence to bring about a better understanding; and the King, satisfied for the moment with having, as he considered, vindicated his personal honour by the recovery of Boulogne, gave him his support. Thanks to this prudent conduct, Montmorency succeeded in concluding with England not only a satisfactory peace, but a grand matrimonial alliance. In the spring of 1551, the two sovereigns exchanged embassies, and while Saint-André was despatched to England to carry to Edward VI the collar of Saint-Michel, the Marquis of Northampton, accompanied by the future Chancellor, Gardiner, Bishop of Ely, and an imposing suite, arrived in France to invest Henri II with the Order of the Garter, and to demand for Edward VI the hand of Madame Élisabeth.

To this demand Henri II, who was profuse in his assurances of friendship, declaring that although he had been at war with England "he never enterprised anything with worse will, nor more against his stomach,"[09] was graciously pleased to accede, and, after a good deal of haggling over the amount of the little princess's dowry,[10] the treaty was signed at Angers, on July 19.

Notes

(1) These letters are among the Balcarres MSS. in the Advocates' Library, Edinburgh. They have been published by Miss J. T. Stoddart in the Appendix to her interesting work "The Girlhood of Mary Queen of Scots."

(2) Henri Martin, Froude, and several other historians state that Mary landed at Brest, but it is now proved beyond dispute that Roscoff was the place where she disembarked.

(3) Marquis de Pimordan, la Mère des Guises.

(4) Guiffrey, Lettres de Dianne de Poytiers; Ruble, la Première Jeunesse de Marie Stuart.

(5) Madame Élisabeth, who was called by abbreviation Madame Isabel.

(6) Guiffrey, Lettres de Dianne de Poytiers.

(7) Ribier; F. Decrue, Anne, duc de Montmorency.

(8) La Barre du Parcq, Histoire de Henri IIe

(9) Despatch of Northampton to the Council, July 20, 1551.

(10) "Northampton suggested that they should give with the princess, as a moderate dowry, 1,500,000 crowns. He lowered his terms on being refused, amidst shouts of laughter, to 1,400,000 crowns; then to a million, then to 800,000, and at last to 200,000; which only 'after great reasonings and showings of precedents' the French commissioners consented to allow." — Froude.

Chapter XX

The Constable is created duke and peer of France — Attitude of Diane de Poitiers towards Montmorency and the Guises — Ascendency of Diane over the King — The favourite is created Duchesse de Valentinois, and is presented with the Château of Chenonceaux — Description of her Château of Anet — Henri II at Anet — Devotion of Henri II for Diane — His letters to her — His obligations to her — Question of her sentiments towards him considered — Singular relations between Diane and Catherine: a ménàge à trois — Secret hatred of the Queen for the mistress — Obscure amours of the King — His liaison with Lady Fleming, governess of Mary Stuart — Birth of a son — Indiscretions of Lady Fleming, who is dismissed from Court — The animosity of Madame de Valentinois towards the Constable, whom she suspects of having encouraged her rival, causes her to throw her entire influence on the side of the Guises — Increased importance of the Guise brothers consequent on the death of the Duc Claude and the Cardinal Jean de Lorraine — They determine to force France into another war with Charles V

THE English alliance, which promised to strengthen very materially the position of France in Europe, since it could be directed equally against either the Papacy or the Empire, was, as we have seen, the work of the Constable, who had conducted the diplomacy of France with as much skill as he had her strategy. Henri II hastened to show his appreciation of his old friend's services, and, almost immediately after the signing of the marriage-treaty, letters-patent were issued erecting the Constable's barony of Montmorency into a duchy-peerage, the title to be transmissible to his daughters in the event of the failure of heirs male.

On the two important questions of foreign policy which had found Montmorency and the Guises in opposition — that of Italy in 1548 and that of England — the counsels of the Constable had prevailed, and, notwithstanding the credit which his rivals had secured by the betrothal of their niece to the heir to the throne, there can be little doubt that he would have continued to exercise the paramount influence in affairs of State if the Lorraine princes had not enjoyed the support of a powerful ally.

This ally was, of course, Diane de Poitiers, who, it will be remembered, from jealousy of the Constable, had encouraged the ambition of the Guises. That for four years Montmorency had been more than able to hold his own against so redoubtable a combination can only be explained by the supposition that Diane, true to her policy of holding the balance between the rival parties, had been unwilling to allow the Guises to become too powerful, and had therefore employed her influence somewhat sparingly on their behalf. For, with the years, Diane's influence over the King seemed to increase rather than diminish. "The person whom without doubt the King loves and prefers," writes the Venetian Ambassador in 1552, "is Madame de Valentinois. She is a woman of fifty-two. . . . He has loved her much; he loves her still, and she is his mistress,[01] old though she is. Truth to tell, although she has never made use of cosmetics, and perhaps in virtue of the minute pains that she takes, she is very far from appearing as old as she is. She is a woman of intelligence, who has always been the King's inspiratrice, and has even assisted him with her purse when he was Dauphin. His Majesty regards himself as under a great obligation to her, and from the beginning of his reign has made her Duchesse de Valentinois and has given her what I have said, and gives to her still, and does in that and in all else everything that she wishes. She is informed of everything, and each day, as a rule, the King goes after dinner to see her and remains an hour and a half to discuss matters with her; and he tells her everything that happens."[02]

Honours and riches almost beyond the dreams of avarice were showered upon the King's favourite. Soon after his accession, Henri II presented her with the beautiful Château and estate of Chenonceaux, which had been ceded to the Crown by Antoine Bohier, in 1531, the pretext for the gift being the valuable services rendered the State by her deceased husband, Louis de Brézé;[03] then, in October 1548, he created her Duchesse de Valentinois[04] and gave her several estates near Montpellier; while gratifications from the Royal Treasury, gifts from the "good towns" which his Majesty honoured by solemn entries, the confiscated property of Protestants, fines extorted from the Jews, were being continually poured into her lap. All was grist that came to the mill, for she was one of the most rapacious of harpies, and those shapely white hands of hers were always itching to grasp whatever came within their reach.

Happily for the artists of her time, she had cultured tastes and spent lavishly for their gratification, and the wealth which flowed from all directions into her coffers was metamorphosed into arabesques, frescoes, statues, and paintings for the embellishment of her Norman home.

For, though the duchess — as we must now call her — several times entertained the Court at Chenonceaux, where she built a bridge across the Cher, laid out a beautiful Italian garden, and planted a labyrinth, Anet remained her favourite residence. It was no longer, however, the frowning mediaeval castle to which Louis de Brézé had taken his bride, and where François I had drafted the marriage-contract of the future Henri II and Catherine de' Medici, but the "paradise of Anet" — as the poet Joachim du Bellay styles it — a palace of enchantment, before the glories of which the residences of the Montespans, the Pompadours, and the Du Barrys, splendid as they appeared to their contemporaries, fade almost into insignificance. For Anet was — alas! it is almost a case of Ilium fuit — not only one of the masterpieces of French Renaissance architecture, but its decorations were of exquisite beauty and of a character to be found in no other building of the time. "Finding myself near the road to Anet," writes the Florentine Gabriello Simeoni, in his account of the journey he made through France in 1557, "I betook myself thither, for I have always been a virtuoso and eager to possess and behold all rare and exquisite things; and, without exaggeration, I came to the conclusion, after having seen everything, that the Golden House of Nero was not so costly or so beautiful."

Anet perished amid the vandalism of the Revolution, and nothing now remains of Diane's wonderful palace save the lines of the walls, part of one wing, and the chapel. But, thanks to the minute plans of the buildings published in 1579 by the Huguenot engraver, Du Cerceau, in his great work, les Plus excellents bastements de France, the few precious bits of sculpture which have been preserved, and several admirable modern monographs, of which the best is that by M. Pierre Roussel, himself a native of Anet,[05] we are fortunately able to form some idea of what it must have been like in the heyday of its splendour.

Between 1545 and 1547, Diane acquired several properties adjoining Anet and caused the ancient buildings to be demolished; and in 1548 she commenced the construction of her new Château, which took four years to complete, while the decorations were not finished until 1554. The celebrated Philibert Delorme, who, many years later, designed the Tuileries for Catherine de' Medici, was entrusted with the architecture, in which he displayed all the resources of his art and of his inventive character; Jean Goujon, the French Phidia, of whom Diane had been one of the earliest patrons, was responsible for the most important sculptures, and embellished the château both inside and out with marvellous fountains, statues, bas-reliefs, and balustrades, while, finally, he created the great tomb of the duchess, which is said to have occupied him eleven years; Jean Cousin filled the windows with the stained glass which became celebrated under the name of grisaille d'Anet; Léonard Limosin, in collaboration with his brother Pierre, enriched the chapel with those exquisite plaques of the Twelve Apostles now in the Church of Saint-Pierre at Chartres; while there were beautifully coloured vases by Bernard Palissy, paintings by Primaticcio and Del Rosso, and chimney-pieces by Benvenuto Cellini.[06]

THE CHÂTEAU ANET IN 1550

AFTER A CONTEMPORARY PRINT

The home of all these treasures was, as will be gathered from a glance at the plans of Du Cerceau, of immense size. It occupied three sides of a square, the fourth being filled in by a richly-decorated gateway connected with the two side wings by buildings which gradually curved inwards from right to left. Those who entered beneath the centre gateway found themselves in the spacious cour d'honneur and immediately fronted by the principal facade, exactly opposite. "The grand portal of access," writes Lady Dilke, "was not, as at Écouen, put on one side of the court; it occupied the most imposing situation, precisely in the centre of the principal facade. There it towered upwards, heavy crescent-crowned, finding support right and left (after an interval spaced with ingenious skill) in the prominence given to the great dormers which surmounted the third columns of openings on either side. The grouping of the windows so as to form perpendicular shafts was a conspicuous feature of the design."[07] A long colonnade ran entirely round the basement, the roof of which formed a balcony beneath the windows of the first story. To the right and left of the cour d'honneur, on which the inner windows looked, were other courts of even greater extent, known as the cour de Charles le Mauvais, and the cour de Gauche, in which was the orangery. Behind these three courts was a garden, divided into several compartments destined for the rarest flowers and plants of the time. This great garden, which was in the form of a square, was encompassed by a very beautiful open gallery, on the north side of which stood a vast salle de bains. Beyond it, an immense park extended to the coast. To the north-east of the cour de Charles, le Mauvais and the gardens were the stables; further to the north was the Hôtel Dieu, an infirmary for the sick servants and poor dependants of the châtelaine. The chapel had been ingeniously placed in the exterior angle, formed by the junction of the left wing with the remnant of the old château, which was remodelled and preserved in the new scheme for convenience sake. To the west of the cour de Gauche, just outside the wall of the garden, was a second chapel — a sepulchral one — which contained Diane's tomb. Behind it were the aviary and the heronry; the kennels were at the rear of the old fortress.[08]

Everywhere the interlaced monogram "H.D." met the eye: on the capitals of the columns, the frontals, the tops of the entablatures, the friezes, the pavements, the inlaid floors, the doors, the windows, the ceilings, the wainscots, the carpets, the tapestries, the plate, the crockery, and even the books in the library.[09] Everywhere, too, the decorations recalled the story of the goddess whose name the duchess bore. Above the great gateway was a group representing the rash Actæon struggling with his hounds, the work of Goujon. The fountains playing in the side-courts were also embellished with the attributes of Diana, and the basin of that to the left was crowned by what is undoubtedly Goujon's masterpiece, if not the masterpiece of all French sculpture — the celebrated Diane chasseresse, now in the Louvre.

"DIANE CHASSERESSE"

FROM AN ENGRAVING AFTER THE STATUE BY JEAN GOUJON IN THE LOUVRE

The goddess is represented perfectly nude and in a semi-recumbent posture, with her two dogs (Procyon and Sirius) and a stag — around whose neck one arm is thrown, while in the other hand she holds her unstrung bow. "What pride, what gentleness in that pose!" exclaims La Ferrière. "To see the half-formed bosom, one would call her a young girl; but the body, in its full and robust contours, is certainly that of a woman in all her maturity. The true character of the beauty of Diane de Poitiers was strength and not delicacy. In deifying the mistress of the King, the great artist has remembered this."[10]

Henri II was as interested in the construction and decoration of Diane's fairy palace as the lady herself. "All that I did at Anet," wrote Philibert Delorme after Henri's death, "was by command of the late King, who was more anxious to learn what was being done there than in his own residence, and used to get angry with me if I did not go there often enough. All that I did there was for the King."[11]

Once Henri II had crossed the threshold of Anet, he was continually returning. He was at Anet in the first week of August 1550 — only a few days after Catherine de' Medici had given birth to the future Charles IX. It was from Anet that he set out, two months later, to make his "joyous and triumphant entry into his good town of Rouen," the splendours of which almost rivalled that of Lyons; and on his way back to Saint-Germain he paid it yet another visit. It was at Anet that, in March, 1552, he received the English Ambassador, Sir William Pickering, who describes it as "a wonderful fair and sumptuous house." Diane desired that Pickering should be shown all the splendours of her palace, with which the Ambassador was duly impressed. "Madame de Valentinois commanded that collation (as they term it) should be prepared for me in a gallery, and that afterwards I should see all the commodities of the house, which were so sumptuous and prince-like as ever I saw."[12] In 1555, the King was twice at Anet; in fact, not a year seems to have passed without the Château being honoured by one or more royal visits.

That Henri II loved Diane de Poitiers and loved her with a deep and enduring devotion to which the annals of royal amours afford no parallel, is beyond dispute. It is attested by the favours and honours heaped upon her, by the immense influence which she enjoyed, by the testimony of a score of trustworthy witnesses, and, if any further proof is needed, we may find it in the few letters of the King to his mistress — all signed with the famous monogram — which are preserved in the Bibliothèque Nationale.

What a depth and sincerity of affection, what tenderness, what respect, do they reveal!

"Mamye," he writes to her from Fontainebleau,[13] "I beg you to send me news of your health, because of the distress with which I have heard of your illness, and so that I may govern my movements in accordance with your condition. For, if your illness continues, I should not wish to fail to come and see you, to endeavour to be of service to you, and also because it would be impossible for me to live so long without seeing you. And, since I did not fear, in time past, to lose the good graces of the late King, in order to remain near you, I should scarcely complain of the trouble that I might have in rendering you any service, and I assure you that I shall not be at my ease until the bearer of this returns. Wherefore, I entreat you to send me a true account of the state of your health and to inform me when you will be able to start. I believe that you can understand the little pleasure that I experience at Fontainebleau without seeing you, for, being far from her upon whom all my welfare depends, it is very hard for me to be happy. With which I will conclude this letter, from fear that it will be too long, and will weary you to read it, and will present my humble recommendation to your good graces, as to that which I desire ever to retain. — ."

And, after receiving the anxiously-awaited letter:

"Madame mamye, — I thank you very humbly for taking the trouble to send me news of yourself, which is the thing most pleasing to me on earth, and entreat you to keep your promise to me, for I cannot live without you, and if you knew the little enjoyment that I find here, you would pity me. I shall not write you a longer letter, save to assure you that you cannot come as soon as is the wish of him who remains for ever your very humble servant, ."

And here are two letters written from the army, the first; during the Alsace campaign of 1552, the second during the Flemish campaign six years later:

"VALDERSEN (?), May, 1552

"Madame mamye, — I shall not write you a long letter, having fully informed the bearer of this, and also because I have not the leisure, since I find myself on the point of marching to pass the River Sarre. I beg you to believe that my army is splendid,[14] and animated by an excellent spirit; and I am confident that, if it is intended to dispute the passage, Our Lord will aid me by His grace, as He did at the first. I shall not tell you anything else, but remit all to Monsieur d'Aranson, who is presently returning; nevertheless, I entreat you to keep in your remembrance him who has known only one God and one friend, and to assure you that you will never be ashamed of having given me the name of servant, which I entreat you to keep for me for ever. ."

"PIERREPOINT (?), August 13, 1558

"Madame, — I received yesterday, by Laménardyère, the letter which you have written me, and also the chemises of Our Lady of Chartres.[15] They could not have arrived at a more opportune moment, for I intend setting off the day after to-morrow, in the expectation of reaching Mondidier in the middle of August, where I hope to put myself into such condition that I shall prove myself worthy to wear the scarf which you have sent me. I shall not write you anything about our enemies or my camp, as I have charged the bearer of this to inform you of that; and nothing remains for me save to tell you that I am sending Laménardyère back . . . and to entreat you always to keep in remembrance him who has never loved, nor will love, any one but you — . I beg you, mamye, to be willing to wear this ring for the love of me."

On one occasion, his Majesty breaks into poetry, for, in common with many other princes of the sixteenth century, he had quite a pretty turn for verse-making:

"Hellas, mon dyu, combyen je regrète

Le tans qui j'é pertu an ma jeunesse;

Combyen de foys je me fuys fouèté

Avoyr Dyane pour ma seul mestrèse;

Mès je cregnoys qu'èle, quy est déese,

Ne se voulut abèser juques là

De fayre cas de moy, quy fa[n] sela

N'avoys plésyr, joye, ny contantement

Juques à l'eure que se délybèra

Que j'obéyse à son coumandemant.

Elle, voyant s'aprocher mon départ,

M'a dyt: Amy, pour m'outer de langeur,

Au départyr las! layse moy ton ceur

Au lyu du myen, où nul que toy n'a part.

Quant j'apersoys mon partemant soudyn,

Et que je lèse se qui tant estymè,

Je la suplye de vouloyr douner,

Pour grant faveur, de luy béser la myn.

Et sy luy dys ancores daventege

Que la suplye de byen se souvenyr

Qui n'aie joye juques au revenyr,

Tant que je voye son hounête vysage.

Lors je pouré dyre sertènemant

Que, moy quy fuys sûr de sa bonne grâse,

J'aroys grant tort prouchaser otre plaser,

Car j'an refoys trop de contantement."[16]

To which the lady replies:

Adieu délices de mon cœur!

Adieu mon maistre & mon seigneur!

Adieu vrai estocq de noblesse!

.   .   .   .   .

Adieu plusieurs royaux bancquetz!

Adieu epicurieulx metz!

Adieu magnifiques festins!

Adieu doulx baisers coulombins!

Adieu ce qu'en secret saisons

Quant entre nous deulx nous jouons!

Adieu, adieu, qui mon cœur ayme!

Adieu, lyesse souveraine!

Lorenzo Contarini wrote that Henri II regarded himself as under a great obligation to Diane. He had reason to. What kingly qualities he possessed he undoubtedly owed to her influence and counsel. She had found him a timid, taciturn, awkward young prince, and she had moulded him into a dignified, gracious, and tactful monarch, who as an "actor of royalty" could compare favourably with any sovereign in Europe. The process, it is true, had been a very gradual one, and there must have been times when Diane may well have despaired of making anything of her pupil, for however much he might unbend in her society, he, for some years, continued to show to the world the melancholy side of his character; but she persevered, and by the time Henri ascended the throne her labours had been rewarded.

There were still moments, as on the occasion of the duel of Jarnac and La Châtaigneraie, when, confronted by some unexpected emergency involving an instant decision, the King's somewhat sluggish intellect might be unequal to the demands made upon it. But such were fortunately of very rare occurrence, and in the everyday matters which called for his personal attention — questions of Court etiquette and the like — Henri, thanks to the counsels of his Mentor, seems to have shown a commendable sagacity.

If no uncertainty exists as to the nature of Henri II's feelings for Diane, her attitude towards him is not so easy to define. Did she reciprocate his devotion? Was their connection really that "happy marriage," that true union of souls, which some writers believe?

We should naturally hope to find an answer in her correspondence, but, though many letters of Diane have been preserved, not a single one addressed to Henri II is to be found among them, if we except the verses already cited. Nor is their total disappearance difficult to explain. It was then the rule to burn all private letters of importance, and, though, fortunately for the student of French society in the sixteenth century, this custom was by no means always observed, the ladies of the time almost invariably insisted on the destruction of their love-letters, and their adorers, however painful the sacrifice might be to them, felt bound in honour to obey, saying with Marot:

"Car j'ayme mieux deuil en obeyssant

Que tout plaisir en desobeyssant."

Diane had more interest than any one in the destruction of her billets-doux, since, if they could not tell the Queen more than she knew already,[17] they might become, at some future time, in Catherine's hands, very formidable weapons against the favourite. In consequence, the duchess had no doubt impressed upon the King the importance of burning her letters as soon as he received them, and the King, like a zealous and obedient cavalier, had not failed to comply with her wishes.[18]

But, if these interesting epistles have disappeared, we have a number of other letters from Diane's pen which afford a valuable index to her character, and we may well ask ourselves whether, in the life of the unemotional, shrewd, matter-of-fact woman which they reveal to us, there could have been any room for a grande passion. Love of a kind there no doubt was, but it was the love of the mother for the son, of the teacher for the pupil, rather than that of the mistress for the gallant.

Interesting as are the relations between Henri II and Diane, the attitude of the mistress and the injured wife towards one another is not less so. On the death of François I, Catherine would appear to have attempted some remonstrance with her husband on the error of his ways; but she very soon perceived the necessity of accepting the situation. "At the opening of the reign," writes Contarini in 1552, "the Queen was unable to endure such love and favour on the part of the King for the duchess; but later, by reason of the urgent prayers of the King, she became resigned, and now she supports it with patience. The Queen is continually in the company of the duchess, who, on her side, renders her excellent services in gaining her the King's good opinion, and often it is she who exhorts him to go and pass the night with the Queen."[19]

What a picture! The servility, the moral abasement, of the courtiers, who so humbly solicit Diane's good offices; of the artists, who multiply allegorical allusions to the object of the King's devotion; of the towns, which mingle the name of the mistress with their protestations of fidelity, and cover their triumphal arches with the famous monogram, extends to the royal ménage itself! "Diane," writes Guiffrey, "has penetrated so far into the intimacy of the august couple that she forms, so to speak, the apex of the conjugal triangle and completes its harmony. Her influence extends even to the alcove, of which she has little by little constituted herself the sovereign arbiter. It is owing to her that the King loves the Queen. It is owing to her that he decides to fulfil the duties of a husband. At night, she urges him towards that couch to which no desire draws him. And perhaps Catherine de' Medici should owe some gratitude to Diane de Poitiers for this odious intervention, since it is thus that she will be able to become the mother of a whole line of kings."

Shocking as this species of family compact appears to modern ideas, it was not so regarded then. It was the age of platonic chivalry — the age which took for its models the heroes and heroines of the "Amadis of Gaul" — when a man was permitted to have a "lady of his thoughts," without it being considered in any way inconsistent with the most rigorous observance of his marriage vows. This idol of the heart was, in theory, of course, merely the inspiratrice of the most generous thoughts and the most noble actions; he wore her colours, broke lances in the lists in her honour, addressed her in the most ceremonious language, and called himself her servant. In point of fact, the inspiratrice was often a good deal more; but it was a serviceable fiction, which paved the way for many attachments which would otherwise have been impossible, or, at least, have been the cause of much scandal.

Both Henri II and Diane were fervent admirers of these high-flown ideas — two volumes of the French version of the "Amadis" were dedicated to the latter — and, though no one was deceived thereby, least of all the Queen, they to the end appear to have pretended that the bond between them was merely that which custom had sanctioned. Thus it was that cardinals and bishops could without embarrassment enrol themselves among the courtiers of the favourites. Thus it was that Catherine was able to accept without a blush the "excellent services" of her husband's mistress.

But if Catherine succeeded in schooling herself to complaisance; if, after that attempt at remonstrance to which Contarini refers, she strove to hide her feelings from all but a few intimate friends; if she continued to behave as though her society were necessary to her husband, "following him as much as she could, without a thought of fatigue," there can be no doubt that she suffered bitterly and hated bitterly. "If I made good cheer for Madame de Valentinois," she wrote many years later, "it was the King that I was really entertaining, and besides, I always gave him to understand that I was acting sorely against the grain; for never did woman who loved her husband succeed in loving his mistress."[20]

Notwithstanding the devotion of Henri II to Diane, it must not be supposed that he was altogether proof against the wiles of the many light beauties who frequented the Court. "The King Henri," writes Brantôme, "used to love good stories as much as his predecessors did, but he was unwilling that the ladies should be put to shame by them; so much so that he used to visit them in the most secret manner possible, in order that they might escape suspicion and scandal. And if there were one who was discovered, it was not his fault, but rather the lady's."

Of these obscure amours at which the historian hints, only two have come down to us: one was that of the Piedmontese beauty who became the mother of Diane de France; the other we shall now relate.

We have mentioned among the suite which accompanied the little Queen of Scotland to France a certain Janet Stuart, Lady Fleming, a natural daughter of James IV, who filled the post of governess to her youthful Majesty. Lady Fleming was no longer young — in fact, at the time of her arrival in France she must have been at least thirty-eight, and she had presented her husband, who had fallen on the field of Pinkie, with five sons and two daughters, the elder of the girls being one of the young Queen's "four Maries." But, like Diane, she had discovered the secret of preserving her charms, for, two months after Mary Stuart's arrival at Saint-Germain, we find Artus de Brézé assuring the Queen-Dowager of Scotland that "she had sent a lady hither with the Queen, her daughter, who had pleased all the company as much as the six most comely women of this kingdom could have done. For my part, I would not for the world have had her absent, having regard not only to the service of the Queen, but to the reputation of the kingdom — I mean Madame de flamy (sic)."[21]

It is probable that by "all this company" the discreet diplomatist intended his royal correspondent to understand the King; and, any way, by the summer of the following year, his Majesty's own correspondence with Marie de Guise shows him to be taking a most suspicious interest in the lady in question:

"MADAME MY GOOD SISTER, — I believe that you appreciate sufficiently the care, pains, and great vigilance which my cousin the dame de Flamyn (sic) always displays about the person of our little daughter, the Queen of Scotland. The really good, virtuous, and honourable manner in which she performs her duties in this respect makes it only reasonable that you and I should continually bear in mind her children and her family. She has been lamenting to me that one of her sons is still a prisoner in England, and I desire to lend a helping hand to obtain his liberation; but, situated as I am at present, it is not easy for me to accomplish this. It appears to me, Madame my good sister, that you ought to write and request, if you have the means of doing so, to have him exchanged for some English prisoner. This would be doing a good work, and for a person who deserves it. And I pray God, Madame, to have you in His holy and worthy keeping. Written at Paris, the xxvi day of June MDXLIX.

"Your good brother,

"HENRI"

A month later (July 25), the King again writes to Marie de Guise, to inform her that a certain Captain Achaux Jay, lately returned to France, has surrendered to him "the right which he claims over mestre Vbilfort (sic), English prisoner in Scotland," and to beg her to effect an exchange between the Englishman and the son of Lady Fleming, whom he was very anxious to reward "for the good and agreeable services which she renders about the person of our little daughter the Queen of Scotland."[22]

The good and agreeable services of Lady Fleming were not confined to her royal mistress, and towards the end of 1550 she found herself in an interesting condition. All might have been well with her had she but observed the discretion which so delicate a situation demanded; but, "instead of keeping a closed mouth," she was so ill-advised as actually to boast about it. "God be thanked!" said she, in her broken French, "I am with child by the King, and I feel very honoured and very happy about it," adding that the royal blood must certainly contain some magical properties, since she found herself in such excellent health.[23]

These rash words were duly reported to Madame de Valentinois, who was, of course, well aware of what had been going on. Diane might have been disposed to pardon an infidelity in which the senses of her royal lover had probably been far more concerned than his heart; but she felt that it was impossible for her to ignore so public a scandal, so impudent an invasion of her prerogatives. She and Catherine united to get rid of this mistress of the moment, and made things so unpleasant for his Majesty that he was glad enough to make his peace with them by the sacrifice of his Scottish inamorata, of whom he had perhaps already grown weary. And so Lady Fleming was deprived of her post of governess to Mary Stuart, and banished from the Court,[24] though it was not until 1555 that she returned to Scotland, where she appears to have passed the rest of her life at Boghall Castle, which had been left to her by her husband.[25] The fruit of her liaison with the King — a boy — was named after his royal father, and is known to history as the Bastard d'Angoulême. He was created Grand Prior of France, wrote some very commendable verses, played a particularly odious rôle in the St. Bartholomew, the horrors of which he subsequently endeavoured to revive, and was finally killed by a Huguenot gentleman in a duel, at Aix, in 1586.

This affair, ignored by many historians, nevertheless entailed consequences of the first importance. Hitherto, as we have said, Madame de Valentinois would appear to have employed her influence somewhat sparingly on behalf of the Guises, with the result that the Constable still continued to dominate the policy of France. But, rightly or wrongly, Diane believed that, out of jealousy of her ascendency over the King, Montmorency had encouraged the amorous relations of his Majesty and Lady Fleming, in the hope that the latter might succeed in supplanting her in the royal favour. This conviction exasperated Diane to the last degree; the smouldering antagonism between her and the Constable leaped into flame; and her entire influence was henceforth thrown on to the side of the Guises.

"There was a moment," writes the omniscient Contarini, "when the Court asked itself which of the two the King loved the most — the Constable or Madame de Valentinois — but now it is known, by many signs, that Madame is the best beloved . . . for the attachment which the King entertains for the Constable may be dependent on the need which he has of him, while that which he feels for the duchess can proceed from no other source than the most lively passion. I say this, because, to the King's great displeasure, these two personages, the Constable and Madame, are now declared enemies. This hostility began three years ago, but it only broke forth openly last year, when the duchess perceived that the Constable had plotted to divert the King from the passion he had for her, by making him fall in love with the governess of the little Queen of Scotland, a very pretty little woman. The affair, indeed, went so far that this governess became with child by the King. Madame complained bitterly of this; the King had to offer many apologies for it, and for a long time the Constable and Madame were not even on speaking terms. At length, at his Majesty's entreaty, they made a semblance of a peace, but at bottom their hatred is as bitter as ever. Hence have arisen the two parties which are like two factions at the Court, and he who draws near to one knows assuredly that he must expect nothing but hostility from the other."[26]

The death of Duc Claude and of his brother, the Cardinal Jean, in the spring of 1550, had left the direction of the Guise family to François, Duc d'Aumale, who immediately assumed his father's title of Duc de Guise; while Charles, Cardinal de Guise, took that of his uncle — Cardinal de Lorraine — and Diane's son-in-law, Claude, Marquis de Mayenne, became Duc d'Aumale and peer of France. The brothers shared the other dignities between them. To François fell the offices of Grand Huntsman and Grand Chamberlain of France, with the governments of Dauphine and Savoy; to the second Cardinal de Lorraine the innumerable benefices of the first, and to Claude the government of Burgundy.

These changes greatly increased the importance of the two elder brothers, and with it their arrogance. Because Lizet, the First President of the Parlement of Paris, refused to recognise their princely quality, on the ground that the body of which he was the head recognised no princes in France save the Valois and the Bourbons, they insisted on his dismissal, and replaced him by a creature of their own, Le Maistre, who was later to distinguish himself by his persecution of the Huguenots. They next attacked the Chancellor Olivier, and, on the plea that his health was no longer equal to the discharge of his duties, he, too, was removed, though he was allowed to retain the title. Flushed with success and assured of the full support of Madame de Valentinois, they now determined to seek a revenge for the Constable's military and diplomatic successes by forcing France into another war with Charles V.

Notes

(1) The phrase in the original is too coarse to permit of a literal translation.

(2) Lorenzo Contarini to the Senate, in Armand Baschet.

(3) "Services which it had remained for Henri II to discover and reward," observes Mr. T. A. Cook, in his charming book on the Châteaux of Touraine, But Mr. Cook forgets the very real service which Louis de Brézé had rendered to the Crown in the discovery of Bourbon's conspiracy.

(4) The seigneurie of Valentinois, which was originally a simple county, had already belonged to the seigneurs of Poitiers. Louis de Poitiers had ceded it to Charles VII, then Dauphin, and Louis XII had erected it into a duchy for the benefit of Cæsar Borgia, whom, however, he subsequently deprived of it, to punish him for having allied himself with the enemies of France. Diane had persuaded François I to restore to her the usufruct of the duchy, but she was not able to obtain the title until the accession of Henri II.

(5) Histoire et description du Château d'Anet (Anet, 1875).

(6) Roussel, Histoire et description du Château d'Anet; Miss Hay, "Madame Dame Dianne de Poytiers."

(7) "The Renaissance of Art in France."

(8) Roussel, Histoire et description du Château d'Anet; Lady Dilke, "The Renaissance of Art in France."

(9) "Diane had collected at Anet a very rare collection of books on the chase. The most remarkable of all is 'The Chase' of Oppian, in the original Greek, which had been copied in its entirety by Ange Vergèce, a celebrated Hellenist of the time. Diane has caused it to be bound in one of those mosaic bindings, whose compartments, skilfully combined, cross and intersect one another with an infinite grace. Grolier first, then Catherine, had introduced the type from Italy. On the face of the book Diane has placed, with a kind of pride, the three golden fleurs-de-lis, flanked on either side by the crowned 'H' and her initial interlaced with that of Henri II. On the reverse of the book, in an oval medallion, she has caused herself to be represented under the traits of Diana of mythology. Attired in a simple Greek tunic, short enough to allow one to perceive the cothurnus, the arms bare, the quiver on her shoulder, the softest blond hair massed on her head and surmounted by a crescent, she holds in hand a beautiful white greyhound with a golden collar round its neck, and follows with her glance a stag which flees in the distance. It is a happy reduction of the portraits of Primaticcio." — La Ferrière, Les Grandes chasses au XVIe siècle.

(10)Les Grandes chasses au XVIe siècle.

(11) Cited by La Ferrière.

(12) Pickering to the Council, March 22, 1552, "State Papers (Foreign), Edward VI."

(13) This and the following letter are undated, but they probably belong to the autumn of 1547.

(14)See p. 272 infra.

(15) The cathedral at Chartres possessed a chemise, supposed to have belonged to the Virgin, which had been brought from Constantinople in the ninth century and presented to the church by Charles-le-Chauve. This miraculous relic was credited with having assured the safety of the town on several occasions when besieged by enemies, and, by a natural consequence, those who wore metal representations of it were preserved from dangers in war. They were sold at Chartres, and Diane had sent thither to procure some for the King.

(16) "These verses," observes Guiffrey, "are entirely in the handwriting of Henri II. The form of the letters, the erasures which accompany them, can leave no doubt as to their authenticity; they are certainly the work of the King, and no Court poet appears to have had a hand in them. It is probable that they were neither the first nor the last of the royal poet, but if any other exist, they have escaped our researches. As the epoch of their composition, we should be disposed to take the year 1552. In fact, Henri II speaks in these verses of regrets for the time lost in his youth, before possessing the desired mistress. He must then have been already of a certain age. Further, the liberty with which he expresses himself authorises the belief that he was King and freed from the impediments which his father had placed in the way of his first inclinations. Finally, the departure to which he alludes is quite consistent with the year 1552. It is, in fact, the date of his triumphal promenade across Alsace and his bellicose attempts against the duchy of Luxembourg."

(17) If we are to believe Brantôme, Catherine had caused a hole to be bored in the floor of her apartments at Saint-Germain, which were immediately above those of Diane, so that she might see and hear what went on below.

(18) Guiffrey, Lettres inédites de Dianne de Poytiers.

(19) La Diplomatie vénitienne.

(20) Catherine de' Medici to Bellièvre. April 25, 1584, La Ferrière, Lettres de Catherine de Médicis.

(21) Balcarres MSS., published by Miss J. T. Stoddart, "The Girlhood of Mary Queen of Scots."

(22) Balcarres MSS., published in Maitland Club "Miscellany," 1834.

(23) Brantôme.

(24) Catherine de' Medici makes an interesting reference to this affair in a letter which she wrote in 1582 to her son-in-law, Henri of Navarre, to remonstrate with him at the indignation he had displayed over Queen Margot's dismissal of his mistress, la belle Fosseuse (Françoise de Montmorency) from her service. (For a full account of the Fosseuse scandal and the singular part played therein by Marguerite de Valois, see the author's "Queen Margot" (London, Harper; New York, Scribner, 1906.) "My son," she writes, "I was never in my life so astounded as when I heard the words which Frontenac has been repeating everywhere as being those which you ordered him to convey to your wife. I should never have believed that this was true, if he had not himself assured me of the fact. . . You are not, I am aware, the first husband who is young and of little prudence in such matters, but I believe that you are the first, and the only one, who, after an affair of this nature, would venture on such language to his wife. I had the honour of marrying the King, my lord and your sovereign, but the thing which annoyed him the most in the world was to discover that I had heard news of this kind; and when Madame de Flamin (sic) was with child, he considered it very fitting that she should be sent away, and never showed any temper, nor spoke an angry word, about it. As for Madame de Valentinois, she, like Madame d'Étampes, behaved in a perfectly honourable manner; but when there were any who made a noise and a scandal, he would have been very displeased had I kept them near me." — La Ferrière, Lettres de Catherine de Médicis.

(25) W. Hunter, "Biggar and the House of Fleming" (1862). This ingenuous historian has some observations on Lady Fleming's French experiences, which, in view of the evidence before us, are distinctly entertaining: "Lady Fleming was much respected and caressed at the French Court. The attentions paid her gave a handle to the English Ambassador to make an attempt to injure her reputation, by alleging, in a letter he sent to the English Council, that an improper intimacy existed between her and the French King. The story appears to have been a mere fabrication, got up for the purpose of gratifying certain parties in England. It is certain, however, that Henri II, King of France, held Lady Fleming in very high estimation."

(26) La Diplomatie vénitienne.

Chapter XXI

Critical relations between the Houses of France and Austria — Julius III and Ottavio Farnese — Henri II supports the latter against the Pope and Charles V — The War of Parma — Unpopularity of the Emperor in Germany — Revival of the League of Schmalkalde — Maurice of Saxony — Intrigues between France and the Lutheran princes — Treaty of Chambord — Bed of Justice of June 12, 1552 — Henri II, having decided to take the field in person, appoints Catherine Regent, but with very restricted powers — The King reviews his army at Vitry — French plan of campaign — The Constable takes Metz by stratagem — Henri II advances to Nancy, deposes the Regent of Lorraine, the Duchess Christina, and sends the young Duke Charles III to France — The King joins the Constable at Metz and invades Alsace — Refusal of Strasburg to admit the French — Flight of Charles V from Innspruck — The French fall back from the Rhine — The King in the trenches before Ivoy — Termination of the "Austrasian expedition" — Its results

FOR some time past it had been increasingly evident that nothing short of a miracle could avert a fresh rupture between the Houses of France and Austria: the only question was how long would the inevitable struggle be delayed. In addition to those old subjects of dispute, the retention of the States of the Duke of Savoy by France, and of Navarre by the Spaniards, each cherished several other grievances. The French Government complained of encouragement given by the Spaniards to the insurgents at Bordeaux; of the hostile attitude adopted by the Emperor during the war of Boulogne, when he had despatched a herald to forbid Henri II to attack Calais;[01] of his attempts to thwart the royal negotiations in Switzerland,[02] and of the punishment he had inflicted on the captains of landsknechts who had served in France, one of whom, named Vogelsberger, a particular friend of the Constable, he had caused to be executed for high treason.

Charles V was irritated against France by her refusal of his demand for the extradition of those captains who had taken refuge there, by the voyages of French vessels to the Indies, and by the incessant intrigues of the French agents in Italy.

Italy was always the apple of discord, and it was here that hostilities began. The favour shown by the French to Orazio Farnese, the betrothed of Diane de France, had aroused the jealousy of his elder brother Ottavio, who, in 1549, proceeded to make his peace with his Imperial father-in-law. Paul III thereupon deprived him of Parma, and declared the duchy annexed to the States of the Church. Ottavio declined to submit to the will of his grandfather and endeavoured to regain possession of the town by force; and this unseemly family squabble so affected the health of the old Pontiff that on November 10, 1549, he died. France despatched all her cardinals to the Conclave, and made great efforts to secure the election of the French candidate; but they were of no avail, and the choice of the Sacred College fell upon the Cardinal del Monte, formerly Legate of Paul III at the Councils of Trent and Bologna, who became Pope under the name of Julius III (February 8, 1550).

The new Pontiff had no sons or grandsons to aggrandize or quarrel with, and, being of a quiet and pleasure-loving disposition, his only desire was for compromise and peace. As an earnest of his good intentions, he began by restoring Parma to Ottavio Farnese, and flattered himself that he had thereby removed the chief cause of dissension. But the long-standing enmity between the Farnesi and Ferrante Gonzaga, and the disputed suzerainty of Emperor and Pope over Parma and Piacenza, rendered Julius's well-meaning efforts abortive. The viceroy, on the ground that the suzerainty belonged to his master, established a sort of blockade of Parma, whereupon Ottavio threw himself on the protection of Henri II. Either through irritation at the conduct of his vassal, or in the hope of extinguishing so dangerous a spark, the Pope declared the fief forfeited and applied to Charles V for assistance, thereby kindling the very conflagration which it was his desire to avert.

The French Court did not fail to avail itself of so excellent a pretext for intervention in Italy, and by a treaty signed on May 27, 1551, the King formally took Ottavio Farnese under his protection and promised him 2,000 foot soldiers, 200 men-at-arms, and a yearly grant of 12,000 gold crowns.

The base of operations of the French armies was naturally Piedmont. Brissac, who, it will be remembered, had so distinguished himself at the siege of Perpignan in 1543, had lately succeeded the Prince of Melfi as governor of that province, and he was entrusted with the command. With one corps he laid siege to Chieri and other places belonging in name to the Duke of Savoy, but garrisoned by Spanish troops, and took them; while a second corps compelled the Papal-Imperialist forces to raise the siege of Parma. The massacre of a troop of Italian soldiers in the service of France, by the orders of Gonzaga, afforded a pretext for aggression in another direction, and Paulin de la Garde, issuing from the ports of Provence with some forty galleys, fell upon a Spanish merchant fleet off Hyères and secured a rich booty.

Nominally, however, Henri II and Charles V were still at peace; the former was supposed to be merely acting as the protector of Ottavio Farnese, the latter as the auxiliary of the Pope. But this pretence could not long be observed, and in the early spring of 1552 open war broke out.

It was, however, the affairs of Germany, not of Italy, which caused the mask to be thrown aside.

On April 24, 1547, Charles V had crushed the princes of the Schmalkaldic League on the field of Mühlberg and taken the rebel leaders, John Frederick of Saxony and Philip, Landgrave of Hesse, prisoners. This victory laid Germany, to all appearance, at his feet, and it looked as if he were at last about to grasp the fruit of so much toil and statecraft. But it might be said of Charles, as of Hannibal, that, though he knew how to gain victories, he had never learned how to utilise them; and in May 1548, he committed the most fatal error of his whole career by promulgating the celebrated Interim of Augsburg, by which he essayed to impose the status quo in religious matters, while awaiting the decision of the Council of Trent.

This was the occasion of new troubles: the Lutherans rejected "this poisoned sop," and Saxony, Brandenburg, and the great town of Magdeburg revolted, while the Papacy and the Catholics protested against the "sacrilegious intervention of the temporal power in spiritual affairs." Both parties in Germany feared that the Emperor intended to take advantage of the religious troubles to establish his political domination, and for the moment Lutherans and Catholics forgot their respective grievances.

The eventual division of Charles's vast dominions contributed to increase his embarrassments. For a long time it had been his intention to leave Spain, the Netherlands, and his Italian States to his son Philip, reserving the Empire for his brother the King of the Romans and his son Maximilian after him. But from 1548 he reverted to his old principle that the whole power of the Hapsburgs should be primarily in one hand, and proposed that Philip should marry Ferdinand's daughter, be nominated second King of the Romans, and become Emperor after the death of his uncle. Ferdinand accepted this arrangement, then refused, while Charles persisted in his design, "in order to establish and preserve the greatness of our House." In November 1550, the ill-feeling between the two brothers culminated in so violent an altercation that Ferdinand declined to have any communication with the Emperor except by letter.

Public opinion in Germany was wholly on the side of Ferdinand and Maximilian. The Spanish troops quartered there had rendered themselves odious to the people, and the hatred with which they were regarded reacted to the prejudice of Philip, whose ungracious personality presented a very unfavourable contrast to the frank, good-humoured, and kindly Maximilian. Every day Charles's rule became more unpopular.

The Emperor's unpopularity in Germany might have mattered little if France had still been in the exhausted condition in which François I had left her. But the marvellous recuperative power which she has always displayed had enabled her to recover from the drain which the late King's ambitious enterprises had imposed upon her, and she was now once more in a position to grapple with her great adversary both on the Po and on the Rhine. To retain his hold on Italy, Charles must needs withdraw his garrisons from Germany, and the outbreak of the War of Parma gave the rebel princes an opportunity of which they were not slow to take advantage.

The revival of the League of Schmalkalde was rendered infinitely more formidable to the Emperor by the defection of Maurice of Saxony. Hitherto Maurice, although a Protestant, had preferred to subordinate his religious convictions to his interests, and had been rewarded by the Electorate of Saxony, vice John Frederick deposed.[03] But the reproaches of his co-religionists, who had renamed him Judas, weighed, if not upon his conscience, at any rate, upon his pride, and having become, by the Imperial favour, a great prince of the Empire, his interests were now in antagonism with those of his benefactor, who aimed, he believed, at the curtailing, if not the abolition, of the liberties of the German princes. Finally, he had a personal grievance against Charles in the continued captivity of his father-in-law, the Landgrave of Hesse, whom the Emperor absolutely refused to set at liberty.

In April 1551, a colonel of the League of Schmalkalde, Sebastian von Burtenbach, fleeing from the wrath of the Emperor, arrived at Amboise to offer his services to the French Court. Through the intermediary of Burtenbach, Henri II entered into relations with Albert Alcibiades, Margrave of Culmbach, another discontented ally of the Emperor; and Albert undertook to proceed to Magdeburg, which Maurice was then besieging, and convey to him the proposals of France. Simultaneously, Jean du Fraisse, Bishop of Bayonne, the Ambassador of France to the German princes, attended the meeting of the Diet and made overtures to several of the Lutheran leaders.

Maurice, having soon decided to accept the French proposals and betray his master, as he had formerly betrayed his co-religionists, took charge of the negotiations; and on October 5, 1551, at Friedwald, he signed with Du Fraisse a treaty of alliance, "pro Germaniæ patriæ libertate recuperanda," which was confirmed on January 15, 1552, at Chambord, in the presence of Albert Alcibiades and the two sons of the dispossessed Elector of Saxony.

By this treaty both the King of France and the League of Schmalkalde agreed to bring into the field 50,000 infantry and 20,000 cavalry, in order to drive the Emperor from Germany; and the princes, in return for his Majesty's assistance, authorised him to take possession of the towns of Toul, Metz, and Verdun — the "Three Bishoprics" — which he was to govern in the quality of "Vicar of the Empire."

The Constable had opposed as long as possible an enterprise of which no one could foresee the ultimate issue. But the Guises, backed as they now were by the whole weight of Diane's influence, had proved too strong for him. Besides, Henri II, very obstinate in his hatreds as in his affections, detested Charles V. He had never forgotten the cruel captivity to which he had been subjected in Spain — an experience which had embittered the whole of his early life — nor the Emperor's endeavours to dismember his inheritance for the benefit of his younger brother; while the insulting attitude adopted by Charles V towards him at the time of the War of Boulogne, and the punishment inflicted upon the landsknecht captains who had served under him, had tended to revive his resentments. The temptation to humble his own and his father's enemy, and, at the same time, to complete the defence of the north-eastern frontier of France by the annexation of the Three Bishoprics, was one which he found impossible to resist.

Before beginning the campaign, the King decided to take a step more in accordance with constitutional than absolute monarchy, and to obtain from the Parlement of Paris, the most authoritative assembly in his kingdom, its approval of the measures upon which he had decided and the money required for their execution. Accordingly, on February 12, 1552, surrounded by his Court, he held a Bed of Justice, and, having announced to the assembled magistrates his resolution to make war upon the Emperor, called upon the Constable to explain the reasons of his policy. This Montmorency did in a long and very able speech, putting the case for his master so skilfully that the supplies were voted with enthusiasm.

Henri having resolved to take the field in person, the appointment of a Regent was, of course, necessary, and Catherine was accordingly nominated. But the powers entrusted to the Queen were very different from those which François I had conferred upon Louise of Savoy — Diane had seen to that — and the appointment of the Chancellor, Bertrandi, and Annebaut as her colleagues practically annulled her authority. Catherine contrived to dissemble her mortification with her usual skill; but she declined to allow her brevet to be published, being unwilling that the public should know in what small estimation her husband held her.

All through the winter of 1551-2, active preparations for the coming struggle were in progress throughout the whole of France. Henri II, unlike his father, entertained a high opinion of the warlike qualities of the French, and had resolved to trust, in a great measure, to the valour of his own subjects; and this decision was hailed with enthusiasm. "There is no need to say with what alacrity and good-will every man made ready for this war. . . . There was not a town in which the drums did not beat to call out the young men, many of whom quitted father and mother in order to enlist. Most of the shops were emptied of their workmen, so great was the ardour among people of all conditions to take part in this expedition and to see the River Rhine."[04] Many of the provincial gentry, unable to find places in the cavalry, armed themselves at their own expense, and joined the infantry as lanspessades, or foot-lancers, and from early January to the end of March an endless procession of men-at-arms, light-horsemen, arquebusiers, pikemen, cannon, baggage-wagons, and camp-followers might have been seen wending its way towards the Lorraine frontier.

The army was concentrated between Chalons and Troyes, and at Vitry, in the first week in April, Henri II reviewed it. It was an imposing, if motley array, and comprised, according to Boyvin du Villars, 15,000 French infantry, drawn mostly from the southern and south-western provinces, 9,000 landsknechts, 7,000 Swiss, 1,650 men-at-arms, about 3,000 light horse,[05] 1,000 mounted arquebusiers, 2,000 men of the arrière-ban, or reserve, six Scottish and one English company, 200 gentlemen of the King's Household, 400 archers of the Guard, and some 500 gentlemen volunteers.[06]

The King complimented each arm in turn, and warmly thanked the gentlemen volunteers for their loyalty. He then ordered the cannon, of which there were sixty pieces of various calibre, to be tested in his presence. This process was sometimes attended by alarming results, but, on the present occasion, no mishap appears to have occurred.

The plan of campaign was as follows: The Constable, with the advance-guard of the army, was to possess himself, without bloodshed if it could possibly be avoided, of the towns of Toul, Metz, and Verdun; while the King and the Duc de Guise would enter Lorraine, under the pretext of putting the affairs of that duchy in order, and deprive the Duchess Christina, niece of the Emperor, of the regency which she exercised on behalf of her son, Charles III, who was only ten years old. This effected, they were to join the Constable at Metz, and the whole army would enter Germany by way of Alsace, perhaps to co-operate with the Lutheran princes, and, in any case, to endeavour to extend the frontier of France as far as the Rhine. The intrigues of the Guises, cadets of the House of Lorraine, and possessors of several bishoprics in this part of France, had paved the way for the success of the first two points of this plan.

Leaving the King at Joinville, Montmorency, accompanied by the Bourbon princes, crossed the Meuse and marched on Toul, whose magistrates, at the instigation of the bishop, Toussaint d'Hocédy, a former protégé of Cardinal Jean de Lorraine, admitted him without even a pretence of resistance (April 5). Having placed a garrison in Toul, Montmorency continued his march, entered the Lorraine town of Pont-a-Mousson without striking a blow, carried by assault the Abbey of Gorze, the advance-post of Metz, which the Imperialists had fortified, and arrived before the walls of that town.

In Metz itself there was no Imperial garrison, and, thanks to the efforts of Cardinal de Lenoncourt, its bishop, who was wholly devoted to France, a great part of the population had already been gained over. Nevertheless, the Constable only succeeded in getting possession of it by stratagem. The municipal authorities having consented to allow him and the princes to enter on condition that they brought with them only two companies, he formed them entirely of picked veterans. When the Messins discovered how they had been duped, it was too late; one company was already in the centre of the town, while the other had seized one of the gates. And so Metz passed into French possession, to remain there for more than three centuries (April 10).

On his side, Henri II, accompanied by Guise, La Marck and Saint-André, left Joinville on April 11, and, after taking formal possession of Toul, advanced to Nancy. On his arrival, he issued a proclamation, announcing that he had come as "the protector and preserver of the person and property" of the Duke Charles; and, the better to protect and preserve the little prince, he separated him from his disconsolate mother and sent him to the French Court, to be brought up with the Dauphin and eventually to marry Madame Claude, gave the regency to his uncle, the Comte de Vaudémont, who was entirely devoted to France, and placed garrisons in all the fortresses. He then turned northwards, and on Easter Sunday (April 17) joined the Constable at Metz.

In honour of the monarch, Montmorency held a review and saluted his arrival with a salvo from fifty cannon. His Majesty was much pleased with so splendid a reception, but his satisfaction was somewhat discounted, when he learned that a party of the enemy's light horse, who were hovering in the neighbourhood, had taken advantage of it to pillage the baggage. On entering the town, the King swore to observe the municipal privileges; nevertheless, instead of leaving the authority in the hands of the sheriffs, he entrusted it to a strong garrison, commanded by Brissac's brother, the Sieur de Gonnor, a protégé of Montmorency.

If we are to believe the Vieilleville Mémoires, the King had wished to give him the post, but he had declined, and strongly counselled his Majesty to reassure the Germans by showing respect for the customs and privileges of the people of Metz. Guise and Vendôme were of the same opinion, and the King would have followed their advice had it not been for the Constable, who boasted that "he would enter Strasburg and the other Rhine cities as easily as he would plunge a piece of wood into butter." However that may be, the high-handed treatment of Metz was to prove a serious blunder.

The duchy and the bishoprics of Lorraine being thus occupied, and their communications with their magazines in Champagne assured, on April 20 the French broke up from Metz and directed their march towards the Vosges and the Rhine. They crossed the mountains, not without considerable difficulty, for the winter's snow still lay there, and descended into Alsace. In Lorraine, the inhabitants had shown themselves well disposed towards the invaders, but in Alsace, which was thoroughly German in speech and feeling, the people were distinctly hostile. "Not a soul came to us with provisions, and we were obliged to go a distance of five or six leagues for forage and food, and to take a strong escort too; since, if even ten men went together, they never came back."[07]

From Saverne, which was reached on May 3, the King opened communications with the magistrates of Strasburg, and Montmorency, rather naively, imagined that he would be able to repeat the stratagem which had succeeded so well at Metz. But the Strasburgers, who were aware of what had happened in that town, were on their guard, and peremptorily refused to receive the King if he were accompanied by more than forty gentlemen of his Household; indeed, they declined to allow the troops to approach within cannon-shot, "being proud and haughty and not accustomed to see men of war occupying their beds."[08] And so the project of the French Nestor came to nothing, and Henri II contented himself with revictualling his army from Strasburg, and decided to follow another route.

Accordingly, having left a detachment at Saverne to maintain his communications with France, he turned northwards and marched on Haguenau, which, when threatened by an assault, promptly capitulated. At Haguenau, where the women of the town "crowded the parapets of the walls, the steeples, and the tallest houses to get a view of the camp," the French found the widows and children of several landsknecht captains whom the Emperor had caused to be put to death because of their attachment to France. The King summoned them all before him, distributed a sum of 10,000 crowns among the women, provided the young men with arms and accoutrements and gave them commissions in his German companies, selected four boys as pages of his Ecurie, and found places for five others about the persons of the princes and the gentlemen of his Household.

Leaving Haguenau on May 10, the King advanced to Weissembourg, where he was very well received. He was about to resume his northward march, when the Rhine princes, assembled at Worms, and the Imperial Chamber of Speyer sent to beg him to advance no further and to remind him that he had been invited to protect and not to conquer — a fact which his Majesty seemed in danger of forgetting. The national sentiment, indeed, had been profoundly moved by Henri II's treatment of Metz and the insolence of the French troops, who conducted themselves as if they were in a conquered country; and it was plain that if the King neglected the warning he had received, he would rally all Germany to the Emperor.

That potentate, meanwhile, was in parlous case. Simultaneously with the advance of his French allies into the Rhineland, Maurice of Saxony had broken up his camp before Magdeburg and marched rapidly southwards. On April 1, he entered Augsburg and was within striking distance of the Emperor, who had taken up his residence at Innspruck, whence he could supervise the proceedings of the Council of Trent. Charles, although protected by a mere handful of troops, remained where he was until the confederates were almost upon him, when he escaped over the Brenner to Villach, in Carinthia; while the Council of Trent dispersed in confusion.

But the Emperor's position, however humiliating, was less critical than may at first sight appear, for the excesses of the rebel princes, who had laid waste the country through which they passed with ruthless cruelty, joined to the irritation aroused by the proceedings of the French King, had effected a reaction in his favour and strengthened the hands of the middle party in Germany; and there was every hope that the Diet, which was to meet at Passau on May 27, would succeed in effecting some compromise between Charles and his disaffected subjects.

On his side, the "protector of German liberties" received intelligence that Mary of Hungary had thrown a considerable force into the duchy of Luxembourg, which might threaten his line of retreat, and this removed any doubts which he might have entertained as to the imprudence of venturing farther from his base. Accordingly, "having watered their horses in the Rhine," the French turned their backs on the great river and began their homeward march. They did not, however, return by the most direct route, for, after snapping up Verdun — the last of the Three Bishoprics — they invaded Luxembourg, captured Rodemachern, Damvilliers, Ivoy and other places, and reinstated Diane's son-in-law, the Maréchal de la Marck, in his duchy of Bouillon, of which he had been deprived by the Emperor.

Ivoy offered some resistance and did not surrender until it had been subjected to a bombardment from nearly forty cannon. Henri II entered the trenches and amused himself by pointing the pieces, as though he had been a junior officer of artillery, to the delight of the soldiers, but to the great alarm of the Constable, who remonstrated with him on the impropriety of thus exposing himself to danger. "Sire," said he, "if you wish to act like this, we shall have to regard the life of a King as of no more account than that of a bird upon a branch, and have a new forge to forge them afresh every day."[09] At Sedan, where the King arrived in the last week in June, he was taken ill, and we find both Catherine and Diane applying to the Constable for news of him. However, his illness was not of long duration, and in a few days he was able to rejoin the army, which was finally disbanded at Étréaupont on July 26.

Thus ended the "Austrasian expedition," as this military promenade was called. Its results, if less splendid than Henri II had anticipated, were, nevertheless, of the highest importance. In the first place, it had created a diversion in favour of the rebel princes, who would otherwise have had to fear an attack upon their rear by the Imperial army of the Netherlands. In the second, the effective protectorate of France had been established over Lorraine, the custody of its little ruler's person secured, and the Austrian influence of Christina of Denmark replaced by the French influence of the Comte de Vaudémont. In the third, the north-eastern frontier had been strengthened by the acquisition of several fortresses and the recovery of La Marck's duchy of Bouillon. Finally, France had Metz.

Notes

(1) According to the Vieilleville Mémoires, the herald informed the King that, if he ignored the Imperial prohibition, his master would treat him "as a young man." To which Henri II replied that "if the Emperor addressed himself to him, he would accommodate him as an old dotard."

(2) The old alliance of France with the Swiss cantons and their confederates (Grisons, Valais, Saint-Gall, and Mulhausen) had been renewed in June 1549, notwithstanding the opposition of Berne and Zurich, irritated by Henry II's persecution of the Protestants.

(3) Dr. Kitchin, "History of France," vol. ii, says that Maurice had been given the administration of Magdeburg and Halberstadt. He had certainly been promised the protectorate, but he had not yet come into actual possession; and the non-fulfilment of the Emperor's promise was one of his grievances.

(4) Mémoires de Vieilleville.

(5) The figures given by Rabutin (Guerres belgiques) differ considerably from the above. He gives the number of men-at-arms as between 1,000 and 1,100, with 2,000 light horse, and from 1,200 to 1,500 harquebusiers à cheval. The men-at-arms, he tells us, were mounted on powerful Turkish or Spanish horses, clad in complete armour, and armed with long lances, long swords, and sometimes with maces; the light cavalry wore only corselets, arm-pieces and bourguignettes (light casques), and carried half-lances, short, curved swords, and pistols. The pistol, it may be observed, was a weapon which had only been recently introduced.

(6) Boyvin du Villars, Mémoires.

(7) Mémoires de Vieilleville.

(8) Rabutin, Guerres belgiques.

(9) Brantôme.

Chapter XXII

The agreement of Passau — Preparations of Charles V for the recovery of Metz — The defence of the town is entrusted to François de Guise — His preparations — Siege of Metz — Obstinacy of the Emperor — The Imperialists are compelled to raise the siege —  Horrible condition of their abandoned camp — Humanity of Guise towards the wounded — Marriage of Diane de France and Orazio Farnese — Thérouenne stormed by the Imperialists and razed to the ground — Death of Orazio Farnese at Hesdin — The French army assembles at Amiens — Skirmish at Doullens — The King and the Constable carry the war into the Netherlands, but nothing is effected —  Death of Edward VI of England — Alarm of Henri II at the proposed marriage of Mary Tudor and Philip of Spain — Mary refuses to make a new treaty with France — Henri II encourages the English refugees and refuses the Queen of England's demand for their extradition — Futile campaign of the King and the Constable in Flanders — Battle of Renty — Outcry against the incapacity of Montmorency — The war in Italy — Truce of Vaucelles — Abdication of Charles V

FRANCE had Metz, but it was doubtful if she would long be able to retain it. At the earnest entreaty of his brother, the Emperor, on August 2, 1552, accepted the agreement of Passau, by which he annulled the Interim of Augsburg, promised to convene a Diet for the regulation of religious affairs, and set at liberty the captive princes. Thus freed from his Germanic embarrassments, he was able to turn all his forces against the foreign enemy, and he at once resolved on a great effort for the recovery of the lost bulwark of Lorraine.

Under the pretext of suppressing Albert Alcibiades, who had refused to recognise the agreement of Passau and at the head of 20,000 brigands was roaming the Rhine country, forcing cities to pay him tribute, pillaging churches, and spreading terror and devastation wherever he went, he began assembling a formidable army in the valley of the Upper Danube. From all sides troops arrived, and particularly from Italy, where the War of Parma was now at an end, Julius III having agreed to a truce which would enable Ottavio Farnese to hold Parma for two years; and in the middle of August he began his march for the Rhine.

The French Government, aware that it was impossible for Charles to accept as an accomplished fact their possession of Metz, without compromising his authority in Germany, did not doubt that it was against their recent annexation rather than the robber Hohenzollern that his preparations were directed, and were already actively engaged in making ready for its defence. As Montmorency's position at the head of affairs necessitated his presence in the centre of the kingdom, this defence was entrusted to the Duc de Guise, who was nominated governor of Metz, with practically unlimited powers. Bitter as was the rivalry between the two great nobles, it was not permitted to prejudice the safety of the country, and the Constable, as Minister for War, rendered the duke every possible assistance.[01]

Even with the loyal co-operation of Montmorency, Guise's task was a sufficiently formidable one. The town of Metz is enclosed on the west, north, and east by the Moselle and the Seille, which form a very strong natural bulwark, but on the south, on which side the place is directly accessible, it was at this time only defended by an old wall without bastions and in a very bad state of repair; while the extensive faubourgs afforded abundant cover for the batteries of a besieging force. To render the town defensible against the great army which was approaching, extensive works must be undertaken, but, even if they were pushed on with all possible expedition, it was very doubtful if they could be completed before the arrival of the enemy. Guise, however, was not the man to be discouraged, and he had the good fortune to have under his orders the Florentine Piero Strozzi, Camillo Marini, and the Sieur de Saint-Rémy, three of the most skilful engineers of the time.

The town suffered cruelly from the necessities of its defence. An immense number of buildings were demolished, to make room for new ramparts or to clear the approaches; the beautiful faubourgs were almost entirely razed to the ground, with all the churches, convents, and colleges they contained, and even the ancient Abbey of Saint-Arnoul, in which were the tombs of Louis le Débonnaire, of his brother Drogo, of his mother Hildegarde, Charlemagne's best loved wife, and of other great personages of the Carolingian epoch, was not spared. It was, indeed, impossible to do so, since it was situated on an eminence which commanded the Porte Champenoise quarter, and would most certainly have been turned to account by the besiegers. The bodies were removed, with great solemnity, to the Dominican Church, escorted by Guise and his principal officers, bareheaded and with tapers in their hands.[02]

Notwithstanding the loss and suffering inflicted on them by this wholesale destruction, the citizens proved wonderfully tractable, for since the occupation of the town in the previous spring the French had treated them with consideration, and their sympathies were now entirely with their new masters; while Guise's courtesy and tact had won all hearts. So far from showing any ill-feeling, many of the people are said to have assisted in the demolition of their own houses, "regarding it as being for the public good and for their own security."[03]

FRANÇOIS DE LORRAINE, DUC DE GUISE

FROM A DRAWING ATTRIBUTED TO C. DUMOUSTIER IN THE BIBLIOTHÈQUE NATIONALE

The duke himself set a splendid example of energy and devotion to duty. Although, in time of peace, it was his habit to take considerably more than the usual amount of sleep, he now contented himself with brief snatches of slumber. At all hours he might be seen hurrying to and fro, encouraging the engineers, who laboured unceasingly, day and night, at the fortifications, supervising the drilling of the recruits, and inspecting the ammunition and stores which were being brought into the town, of which he caused a careful inventory to be made. From the time of his arrival in Metz until the end of the siege, "many as were the eyes which were continually upon him, he was not seen to waste a single hour";[04] no matter seemed too small for his attention, and, to show that a commander should be able to give personal proof of hard labour and fatigue, as well as of a vigilant mind, he often wielded pick and shovel himself.

Meanwhile, the great army of the Emperor, swollen continually by the arrival of reinforcements from different quarters of Germany and the Netherlands, was slowly drawing nearer. It had been greatly delayed after crossing the Rhine by the illness of Charles, who was so feeble that he could not walk without support, though his indomitable spirit still drove him on; and it was not until October 19 that it appeared before Metz, while the siege did not really open until the 31st. By that time the fortifications had practically been completed and the place abundantly provisioned for several months, for Guise had sent away and distributed among the neighbouring towns all the non-combatants, with the exception of a few priests and monks, and some two thousand labourers and artisans, whom he kept to repair the ramparts and assist in serving the artillery.

On the other hand, the Imperialists had received an unlooked-for accession. Albert Alcibiades, endangered by the advance of his outraged suzerain, had offered his troops to France; but the price he demanded was so exorbitant, and the French mistrusted him so thoroughly, that his services were declined. Thereupon the Margrave opened negotiations with Alva, and began to prowl round Toul, "like a wolf round the sheepfold." The Constable, informed of this, despatched Aumale with a force of cavalry to watch him. Suddenly, on October 28, Albert threw himself on the Lorraine prince, defeated, and captured him. Then he presented himself with his prisoner in the Imperial camp, made his peace with the Emperor, and joined the besiegers.

At the end of September, Montmorency had assembled a considerable army at Rheims, and early in October he advanced into Lorraine, with the intention of throwing rein forcements into Metz and harassing the Imperialists. But, on reaching Saint-Mihiel, he learned that the Comte de Rœux had invaded Picardy, and, after laying waste the country between the Oise and the Somme, was about to lay siege to Hesdin, which had been taken by the Netherlanders in the last campaign, though it had soon been recovered. He therefore confined himself to strengthening the garrisons of Toul and Verdun, and returned to Rheims, where he was joined by the King; and it was decided that the bulk of the army should be despatched under Vendôme into Picardy. The conduct of the Constable and the King has been criticised by some historians, but it should be pointed out that Guise had assured them that he had sufficient forces at Metz, and that the royal army could be employed in other operations; while it was certainly necessary to deal with the invasion of Picardy.[05]

By the middle of November, three armies were encamped around Metz. The Spaniards, Italians, and Germans besieged it from the south, the Netherlanders from the north, and the troops of Albert Alcibiades from the south-west. The main attack, however, was directed from the south. Authorities differ widely as to the total strength of the investing force, but the most reliable estimate it at from 70,000 to 80,000 men, with about 140 cannon of various calibre. The garrison numbered about 10,000 men, and included three Bourbons — the Princes de la Roche-sur-Yon and de Condé and the Comte d'Enghien; the two elder sons of the Constable, François and Henri de Montmorency; Nemours, La Rochefoucauld, and a great number of other young nobles, "who had come to take their pleasure at the siege."

Great as was the numerical strength of the Imperial army, its effectiveness was ruined by the dissensions between the various nations which composed it. The Germans and Netherlanders detested the Spaniards, who cordially reciprocated their sentiments; there was little love lost between the Germans and the Italians; and the troops who came from the districts which had suffered at the hands of Albert Alcibiades were indignant at the pardon which the exigencies of war had compelled Charles to extend to the crimes of that princely brigand, and would have infinitely preferred to cut the throats of his Pomeranians and Prussians to those of the French. The Emperor's selection of Alva for the command was most unpopular, and the German and Flemish generals criticised every order he gave, and often ignored him altogether.

Charles arrived in the camp on November 20. He was still so weak from illness that he had been carried from Thionville in a litter, but, on reaching Metz, he mounted a white horse and rode through the lines, commending the officers and men who had distinguished themselves. The presence of the Emperor infused some spirit into his army, and the trenches were pushed so close to the walls that the garrison were able to throw stones into them. By the 28th, a breach three hundred paces wide had been made, but Guise had constructed an inner line of earthworks, bristling with cannon, and awaited the expected assault with confidence.[06]

It was never delivered, however, for the besiegers had not counted on the second line of defence, and, though the Emperor repeatedly urged that an attempt should be made to storm the place, Alva and the other generals refused to undertake it, pointing out that it would be to lead the troops to certain destruction. They were probably right, but Charles reproached them bitterly with their want of courage, and declared that he "saw very well that he had no real men left, and must take leave of the world and get him to a monastery."[07]

November had been cold and wet; December was worse. The camp of the Imperialists became a swamp; their huts and tents were inundated, and the condition of the roads and the activity of the garrisons of Toul and Verdun rendered it difficult for their convoys to reach them. The troops suffered terribly, particularly the Spaniards and Italians, unaccustomed to the rigours of the northern winter; dysentery and typhus broke out, and hundreds were carried off, while many more deserted. The besieged, too, gave them no rest, and their continual sorties contributed to the general demoralisation which prevailed.

By Christmas, on which festival only a few shots were exchanged, Charles was compelled to admit the hopelessness of continuing the siege. "I see well," said he, "that Fortune is a jade; she prefers a young king to an old emperor." Next morning, the retreat of the Imperialists began, though it was not until New Year's Day that Charles left his quarters to return to Thionville and thence to Brussels. Albert Alcibiades remained to the last, to cover the retreat of the artillery; but a sortie of the French compelled him to abandon a number of pieces, whose carriages had stuck fast in the ruts of the muddy roads.[08]

The abandoned camp of the besiegers presented a spectacle calculated to excite the pity of even the most hardened veteran. The number of newly-dug graves which were to be seen on every side made it resemble one vast cemetery; the dead bodies of men and horses lay about in all directions, and there was also a multitude of sick and wounded men, "some prone on the ground, others seated on stones with their legs in the mud, frozen up to the knees. More than three hundred were rescued from this horrible misery; but it was found necessary to amputate the limbs of the majority."[09]

The generous-hearted Guise treated the unfortunate derelicts of the Imperial army with a humanity very rare at this epoch, and everything possible was done to alleviate their sufferings.[10] His conduct, which was the theme of universal praise, was a fitting climax to a success which had established his reputation as one of the greatest soldiers of his time.

The theatre of hostilities in 1552 had extended from the frontiers of Artois and Picardy to the shores of the Two Sicilies. In the north, Vendôme succeeded in driving back the Flemings and in recovering Hesdin; in Piedmont, Brissac obtained some trifling successes over Ferrante Gonzaga; in Tuscany, Siena expelled the Spanish garrison which the Emperor had imposed upon it, and placed itself under the protection of France; and the alliance with the Turks, which had brought so much odium upon François I, having been renewed, through the exertions of Aramon, the French Ambassador to the Porte, the Ottoman fleet attacked and defeated that of Andrea Doria off the Neapolitan coast, and, but for the non-arrival of the galleys of Paulin de la Garde, might have followed up this victory by an attempt upon Naples.

Thus, the net results were wholly on the side of France, and appear to have inspired the French Court with a boundless confidence. It refused to believe it possible that, after the terrible losses Charles V had sustained before Metz, it could have anything more to fear from him; and its astonishment was profound, when, in the middle of the festivities in honour of the marriage of Diane de France and Orazio Farnese, news arrived that a large army of Germans, Spaniards, and Netherlanders had invested Thérouenne, the advance-post of France in Artois. Even then, whether from a fatuous belief that Thérouenne was impregnable or more probably from want of money — so much had been spent in celebrating the defence of Metz and the marriage of the King's daughter that there was none left to pay the troops — no effective steps were taken to succour the place, though François de Montmorency and a number of other young gentlemen received permission "to take their pleasure there."

After a siege of two months, Thérouenne was taken by assault, and the Constable's son with it; the greater part of the garrison was put to the sword, and the town literally razed to the ground. It never rose again, and, says Henri Martin, "is the only example in our history of a French town which has entirely perished."

From Thérouenne, the victorious Imperialists marched upon Hesdin. They were now, it is interesting to note, commanded by Emmanuel Philibert of Savoy, Prince of Piedmont, who in the following August became Duke of Savoy, on the death of his father, the unfortunate Charles III, and was destined to so brilliant a military career. For the third time within a year, Hesdin was taken by assault, and Henri II's new son-in-law, Orazio Farnese, was killed, fighting gallantly in the breach (July 18).

The tears of his daughter, left a widow within a few months of her marriage, seemed to have aroused the King from his apathy, and at the beginning of August a large army was assembled at Amiens, under the orders of the Constable.

The campaign opened auspiciously enough. The Prince of Piedmont was besieging Doullens, which defended the course of the Authie, but on the night of August 12-13 the French passed the river, and, after a sharp engagement between the cavalry of the two armies, in which the Imperialists were completely routed, the prince raised the siege and fell back on Bapaume and Cambrai. The King joined the Constable two days later, bringing with him reinforcements which raised the strength of the army to close upon 50,000 men; and the war was carried into Artois, the Cambrésis, and Hainaut. But absolutely nothing was effected, save the temporary occupation of a few unimportant places; it was a military promenade of the most futile kind.

The blame must rest upon the Constable rather than upon Henri II, who regarded himself as his old friend's pupil in military matters and invariably deferred to his opinion; and even M. Decrue, in general very favourable to his hero, is here in complete agreement with the majority of historians, though he attributes his incapacity to ill health. "His irresolution is pitiable," he says. "Anne de Montmorency exaggerates the faults which he has had all his life. With a magnificent army, he seems to wander, in a futile manner, in search of an easy victory, recoiling before the slightest suspicion of an obstacle." He declined to lay siege to Bapaume or Cambrai, on the ground that they were too strongly fortified; he wasted precious time in holding interminable councils of war; and the climax of fatuity was reached when, on finding the Emperor strongly posted in an entrenched camp at Valenciennes, he demonstrated before the enemy's position, in the hope that the sight of his great numbers would induce Charles to retreat, and then proposed to retreat himself, on the fallacious pretext that the Imperialists refused to give battle. The King consented, and the army fell back across the Somme, and on September 21 was disbanded.

The death of Edward VI of England, on July 6 of that year, dissipated the hopes which France had founded on the treaty of 1551; but the chagrin which this event occasioned was as nothing to the alarm aroused by the news of Mary's determination to give her hand to Philip of Spain. When this project was first announced, Henri II directed Noailles, the French Ambassador in London, to tell the Queen frankly how it was regarded by the French Court, and both the King and the Constable expressed their views still more explicitly to the English Ambassador, Wotton. The Queen, they pointed out, no doubt had every intention of remaining at peace with France, but events might prove too strong for her, and she might find herself drawn into the quarrel between them and the Emperor. If, however, she persisted in the resolution she had taken, they suggested that, as a proof of her good intentions, she should enter into a fresh treaty with France, to provide for unforeseen contingencies. This very reasonable request was refused by Mary, on the ground that the maintenance of the existing treaties with France was guaranteed by a clause added to the marriage articles; and, though it was explained to her that existing treaties did not meet the new conditions, she remained obstinate.[11]

On the Queen's refusal being communicated to the French Government, they at once determined to employ every possible means to prevent the marriage,[12] and relations were established with the disaffected party in England, with a view to effective co-operation. Villegaignon's galleys were in readiness to transport a considerable force across the Channel, and the French only waited to know on what part of the coast they should attempt a landing. But the discovery of their plans drove the English insurgents to a premature rising, which was easily suppressed.

Sir Peter Carew and numbers of discontented English gentlemen took refuge in France, and having been supplied with money, arms, and ships by the Government, roamed about the Channel, plundering Spanish and Flemish vessels. Mary demanded the extradition of "her traitors," to which Henri II bluntly replied that he was not the Queen's hangman; that the so-called traitors were not in arms against their sovereign, but against his own enemy, and that there was nothing in the existing treaties with England to prevent him accepting the services of volunteers from that country. When he had invited her Majesty to enter into a new treaty, she had refused. This answer greatly angered Mary, who, if her Ministers had been of her way of thinking, would have rejoined by a declaration of war.

Powerless to prevent the dreaded marriage, Henri II determined to strike a blow which should force the Emperor to sue for peace before England could be drawn into the struggle. By the creation and sale of new offices[13] and other devices, money for the equipment of another large army was procured, and in the middle of June 1554 40,000 infantry and 12,000 cavalry assembled at Crécy-en- Laonnois. The Constable again took the command, with Vendôme and Saint-André as his lieutenants. Brussels was the objective, and the army, advancing down the valley of the Meuse, captured Marienbourg. Here Henri II, who had left the Queen Regent for the third time, joined it, and in honour of his Majesty the town was re-named Henrienbourg.

The French then advanced on Bouvines, and "the King had the pastime of seeing it taken by assault by his soldiers, who conducted themselves so valiantly that they carried it furiously, although the breach was very difficult and they had to mount it in single file."[14] The Constable had not renounced the barbarous customs of the wars of Italy, and all who had offered any resistance were mercilessly butchered (July 8). Four days later (July 12), Dinant, the historic rival of Bouvines, surrendered, to escape a similar fate; and the King and the Constable, in very high feather, had already crossed the Sambre, with the intention of marching straight upon Brussels, when they learned that the Emperor and the Duke of Savoy were advancing against them. On this, they decided that, by penetrating so far into the enemy's territory, they had done enough for glory, and moved westwards into Hainaut, taking various small places and mercilessly ravaging the country. The Duke of Savoy, to whom the ailing Emperor had made over the command of the Imperialists, followed them closely; but, though he was inferior in numbers to the French, the latter refused to risk a battle. The pursuit ceased in the Cambrésis, but the French retired into Artois, where they laid siege to Renty. The Emperor, who had once more taken the field in person, advanced to its relief, and the King and the Constable found themselves compelled to fight (August 13). The action, thanks principally to Guise, ended in the retreat of the Imperialists, with the loss of 500 killed, as many prisoners, and several cannon. However, no attempt was made to pursue Charles, and, as he had succeeded in revictualling Renty, Henri II raised the siege and led his army back to Compiègne. The Emperor himself returned to Brussels, but his troops took advantage of the retreat of the French to make a devastating raid into Picardy.

Thus, the results of the campaign of Flanders were well nigh as meagre as those of the preceding year, and once more the chief responsibility must rest upon the Constable, who had not on this occasion the excuse of ill-health. Not only the Guises and their partisans, but disinterested observers strongly condemned his conduct. "The responsibility for these checks," wrote the Venetian Ambassador Capello, "belongs to the Constable, who formerly passed for a pusillanimous man, but is now regarded as a base poltroon (stimato vilissimo), since he was afraid to pursue a beaten and almost flying enemy. He is scoffed at everywhere. At the Court and in places of public resort, sonnets and Latin verses are circulated in which he is called a coward and a man without heart. After so fine an opportunity lost, it is regarded as certain that, so long as the Constable remains at the head of the army, there will never be a great battle; first, because he is timid; secondly, because he is more inclined to peace than to war."

The fact is that the Constable, personally a very brave man, but, as a commander, always prone to push circumspection to its farthest limits, could not bring himself to incur the responsibility of a general engagement, which, if lost, might mean the complete triumph of his enemies the Guises; and there was also probably some truth in the charge which was freely brought against him by the rival faction that he had suspended the pursuit of the Imperialists after Renty from an unwillingness to complete a victory whose credit belonged to Guise rather than to himself.

In Italy, the course of events was even less favourable to the French. In Piedmont, Brissac held his own valiantly against superior numbers, but in Tuscany, Piero Strozzi, who had been entrusted with the defence of Siena, was defeated at Mariano (August 2, 1554), and, after an heroic defence by Montluc, the city was starved into surrender (April 17, 1555). Their only success in the peninsula was a political one, the election to the Papacy, under the title of Paul IV, of the Cardinal Caraffa, a bitter enemy of the Spaniards.[15] In the Mediterranean, the Franco-Turkish fleet, after ravaging the Neapolitan coasts, Sardinia, and Elba, landed the condottiere Sampiero Corso in Corsica, where he excited a revolt against Genoese rule and captured Bastia, Bonifacio, and other towns. But quarrels between Paulin de la Garde and Dragut Arraiz, the Turkish admiral, led to the latter's withdrawal; Andrea Doria's fleet brought Spanish and German troops to the assistance of the Genoese; the places lost were recovered, and the Corsicans and their allies driven into the mountains.

Both sides were by this time equally weary of the war. The enormous cost of the huge armies she had raised had exhausted the resources of France. The Emperor, broken in health and disgusted with the failure of his cherished schemes for religious unity and Imperial omnipotence, desired to shift the burden of his vast responsibilities upon younger shoulders and end his days in retirement; and to accomplish the delicate and complicated acts which his abdication would entail, peace was essential. England, whom Charles had vainly endeavoured to drag into the war, offered her good offices, and in May 1555 negotiations were opened at Marcq, near Calais. Nothing came of them; but towards the close of the year the belligerents decided to treat directly with one another, and, though their mutual pretensions rendered the conclusion of a definite peace impossible, a truce of five years was agreed upon and signed, at the Abbey of Vaucelles, on February 15, 1556, during which communications by land and sea were to be re-established and each sovereign was to be left in possession of his conquests. France thus retained the Three Bishoprics and the fortresses she had reduced in Piedmont.

Charles V had not waited for the formal conclusion of the Truce of Vaucelles to divest himself of the crowns whose weight his increasing infirmities made it impossible for him any longer to support. On October 25, 1555, he had abdicated in Philip's favour the sovereignty of the Netherlands, and on January 16, 1556, he had ceded to his son the kingdoms of Aragon, Castile, Sicily and Naples, and the Indies. In order that Ferdinand might select a favourable moment for securing his own election, he retained the Imperial diadem until the following August, and a few weeks later sailed for Spain, to spend the two years of life which remained to him in the cloistral solitude of Yuste.

And let us with Charles turn from war and politics to other matters.

Notes

(1) Decrue, Anne, duc de Montmorency. But one of the biographers of the Guises, M. Forneron, declares that the Constable's jealousy of the duke prevented him from doing more than he was obliged.

(2) Henri Martin, Histoire de France.

(3) Mémoires de Vieilleville.

(4) Bertrand de Salignac, Siège de Metz.

(5) F. Decrue, Anne, duc de Montmorency.

(6) Guise, Mémoires-journaux.

(7) Mr. Edward Armstrong, "The Emperor Charles V."

(8) Guise was particularly exasperated against the Margrave, on account of the way he had treated Aumale. "We must make this drunkard decamp," he exclaimed. "He has treated my brother worse than it he had been a Turk or a Moor, and has made him wear his shirt for thirty-six days!"

(9) Mémoires de Vieilleville.

(10) Guise's example was followed by the citizens of Metz, who raised subscriptions for the relief of those who recovered and for the interment of the dead.

(11) Froude.

(12) It should be pointed out that the French Court was as much concerned about the more distant as about the immediate consequences of this alliance. Charles V proposed to assure to the children of the marriage the Netherlands and the Franche-Comte; and the union of the Netherlands with England would be a most fatal combination for France; while, in the event of the death of the little Don Carlos, Philip's son by his first marriage, Spain, Naples, and Milan would be joined to them.

(13) Wotton wrote to Mary that in the Parlement of Paris alone the King had created thirty new counsellors, "each of whom paid for his office 4,000 crowns of the sun."

(14) Letter of the Constable to Noailles, July 1554, in Decrue.

(15) Julius III had died on March 28, 1555, and his successor, Marcellus II, elected on April 5, had reigned less than a month.

Chapter XXIII

Popularity of Henri II — His amiable qualities — His affection for his children — The Dauphin (François II) — The Duc d'Orléans (Charles IX) — The Duc d'Angoulême (Henri III) — The Duc d'Alençon — Mesdames Élisabeth (Queen of Spain) and Claude (Duchess of Lorraine) — Madame Marguerite ("Queen Margot") — Education of the little princesses and Mary Stuart — Household of the Children of France — Diane de France, natural daughter of Henri II — The romance of François de Montmorency and Mlle. de Piennes — Marriage of François to Diane de France — Daily life of Henri II — His lever — His dinner — His love of the chase — His efforts to encourage horsebreeding — The Queen's "cercle" — The King at tennis — The King's evening — His coucher — Outward decorum of the Court of Henri II — Severity of Catherine — The Rohan-Nemours scandal — The Court in reality more corrupt than that of François I

IF Henri II never attained the immense popularity which his father had enjoyed in the early years of his reign, he was, nevertheless, an extremely popular King, particularly in Paris and with the Army. Nor was this popularity undeserved, for, as a man, Henri had many loveable qualities, while, as a sovereign, his good intentions were beyond question. "His manner is so affable, so human," writes l'Aubespine, "that from the very first moment he takes possession of every man's heart and every man's devotion." The testimony of the Secretary of State is confirmed by that of a more impartial witness, the Venetian Ambassador, Contarini: "His kindliness is natural and so well recognised that one cannot find any prince to compare with him, even if one goes back many years. He desires the good and he works for it. . . . He is gracious and refuses an audience to no one. At his meals there are constantly people present who talk to him about their private affairs, and he listens and replies to every one in the most courteous fashion. He has never been seen in an ill-humour, save occasionally at the chase, when something happens to annoy him, and even then he does not indulge in violent language. One may say that he is really very much beloved."[01]

One of the most amiable traits in Henri's character was his affection for his children. We have seen him hastening from Moulins to Saint-Germain "in order to enjoy their company alone,"[02] and he was probably never so happy as when they were about him. Then he could lay aside the cares of State and the wearisome ceremonial which absorbed so much of his time, and forget for a moment that he was the ruler of a kingdom torn by religious strife within and menaced by sleepless enemies without, and become as simple and natural as the humblest of his subjects. In his relations with his children, indeed, he was at his best — kind, gentle, playful, and sympathetic. What a pretty picture is that which Marguerite de Valois has drawn for us in her Mémoires!

"The King my father, taking me upon his knee to make me talk, asked me to choose which of the two I should prefer for a sweetheart — the Prince de Joinville, who became afterwards that great and unfortunate Duc de Guise,[03] or the Marquis de Beaupréau, son of the Prince de la Roche-sur-Yon.[04] Both, aged six or seven years, were playing near the King my father, and I was watching them. I said that I should prefer the marquis. He said to me 'Why? He is not so handsome. . . . ' I replied: 'Because he is a better boy, whereas the other is never satisfied unless he is doing harm to somebody every day, and always wants to be master.' A true prophecy of what we have seen since fulfilled."[05]

And how well Henri seemed to understand the aspirations of childhood! When, a few months before his death, François I gave to his eldest grandson the nominal government of Languedoc, the child, proud of being treated as a prince, refused to wear girls' clothes any longer. "He does not want to be dressed as a girl any longer," wrote his father, "and I quite agree with him. It is quite reasonable that he should have breeches, since he asks for them; for I make no doubt that he knows very well what he ought to wear."[06]

It was certainly well for Henri II that he was so devoted to children, as he had his quiver pretty full of them. Between 1543 and 1556 Catherine bore him ten, of whom seven lived to grow up, and then there was the fruit of his extra-conjugal attachments — Diane de France and Henri d'Angoulême.

The Dauphin François was a puny, sickly lad, and the letters of the Royal Family and the Court are full of his ailments. In the summer of 1547, when he was in his fourth year, he was attacked by small-pox, from which he made a very slow recovery, and for the rest of his short life the poor boy never seems to have known what it was to be really well. In appearance, he was short and very slight, "with features," says Capello, "which favoured the physiognomy of his mother rather than his father's." In his studies, his success was very small, though he had excellent teachers, for he took little pleasure in them and was incapable of any sustained effort. On the other hand, his ill health did not prevent him from being devoted to the chase and very anxious to acquire proficiency, in the use of arms. In 1551, he had butts put up at Blois, that he might learn to shoot with the bow; he cherished a suit of armour which François de Guise had sent him as a present, and wrote to the duke that he was "practising as often as he could to meet him as a gentle knight face to face"; and he tormented his father to take him with him to the wars.[07]

FRANÇOIS DE VALOIS, DAUPHIN OF FRANCE (AFTERWARDS FRANÇOIS II)

FROM THE DRAWING BY FRANÇOIS CLOUET IN THE MUSÉE CONDÉ, CHANTILLY

The Dauphin had quickly conceived a warm affection for Mary Stuart, which her youthful Majesty seems to have reciprocated. "He loves dearly the Most Serene little Queen of Scotland, a very pretty little girl of twelve or thirteen," writes Capello in 1555. "They love to go away by themselves into a corner, so that no one may overhear their little secrets."[08]

Henri's other three sons, Charles Maximilien, Duc d'Orléans (afterwards Charles IX), Édouard Alexandre, Duc d'Angoulême (afterwards Henri III), and Hercule (afterwards François, Duc d'Alencon, and later Duc d'Anjou), were much younger than the Dauphin, the eldest of the three being more than seven years his junior. The intellectual part of the boys' education was conducted with a care to which that of princes in our day offers no comparison, and the most learned men of the time, with the celebrated Jacques Amyot, the translator of Plutarch, at their head, were among their teachers. They do not, however, appear to have succeeded any better than did Bossuet and the other savants who, a century later, undertook the education of the Grand Dauphin, son of Louis XIV, and probably in both cases they overdid it. Charles, however, was a tolerable musician, and, like his father, had quite a pretty turn for verses, and at the age of fourteen he addressed to Ronsard two very creditable épîres, which have been published in that poet's works.

The boys repaid better the pains which were bestowed on their physical training, notwithstanding that their constitutions were very far from robust. Charles was, indeed, almost as delicate a lad as the Dauphin, thin, very pale, "eating and drinking very sparingly" — which was then considered a proof of debility — and "losing all his breath after the least exertion." His features were regular and he had "very fine eyes like those of his father"; but a birthmark on the upper lip, just below the nose, which his moustache concealed later, somewhat disfigured his face, and when he ascended the throne, at the age of ten and a half, earned him the name of "le roi morveux." He was passionately fond of horses and the chase; indeed, the immoderate ardour with which he pursued this pastime when he grew up undoubtedly contributed to shorten his days; but no form of violent exercise seemed to come amiss to him, and in the gymnasium or the fencing-school he was no mean adversary.[09] He was a generous, impulsive boy, and very hot-tempered, and, even in these early days, occasionally gave evidence of those terrible fits of anger which increased in violence and frequency as he grew older and sometimes rendered him quite unaccountable for his actions.

The future Henri III was a very different kind of lad. His features were more refined than those of Charles, and, like his mother, he had beautifully-shaped hands. For hunting or martial exercises he cared little, though he rode well and did not lack courage, and his toys, his clothes, and his lapdogs occupied most of his time, much as they did in after years. He had charming manners when he wished to please, and seldom failed to get what he wanted, for he had all the maternal astuteness. Severe towards her other children though, as her letters prove, she was always most solicitous for their health and comfort Catherine had treasures of tenderness for her fourth son, and "loved him as her right eye,"[10] recognising him for what he was — a Medici to the tips of his delicate fingers.

The youngest of the little princes, Hercule, afterwards called François, Duc d'Alencon and later Duc d'Anjou, was much stronger than either of his brothers, and, up to the time that he was eight years old, a pretty, bright, and affectionate child. Then, however, he had an attack of small-pox which horribly disfigured him. "His face was deeply pitted all over, his nose swollen and deformed, and his eyes bloodshot, so that, from being pleasing and handsome, he became one of the ugliest men imaginable."[11] His malady had moral as well as physical consequences, and, ashamed of his repulsive appearance and embittered by the cruel banter to which it exposed him from his brothers and other thoughtless youths, he grew up sullen and morose, false, and deceitful.

Henri's three daughters, Élisabeth, who became the third wife of Philip II of Spain; Claude, who married Charles III, Duke of Lorraine; and Marguerite — the famous "Queen Margot" — who married Henri of Navarre, were a pleasing contrast to their brothers. Pretty, vivacious, intelligent and amiable little girls, they formed, indeed, a gracious trio, and their royal parents and the whole Court were justifiably proud of them. The two elder girls were brought up with Mary Stuart, under the vigilant eye of Madame d'Humières, wife of the Dauphin's gouverneur, but Marguerite was entrusted to the care of Charlotte de Vienne, Dame de Curton, a very zealous Catholic, who took infinite pains to shield her charge from the insidious influence of "that pestilent Huguenoterie."[12]

The correspondence of the time gives some curious details concerning the education of Élisabeth and Claude. They both slept in the same cradle, rode out in the same coach, received the same toys, and were dressed in the same colours. At the end of 1557, Élisabeth had the smallpox, and her condition was very critical, when the Constable sent Madame d'Humières "a piece of the horn of a unicorn" — it was probably an elephant's tooth — with directions that it was to be dissolved, "but not in warm water," and administered to the august patient, whose subsequent recovery was no doubt ascribed to this potent charm. The gruff old soldier, it should be mentioned, always showed great solicitude for the royal children. To do so was, of course, good policy, but, since he was the author of eleven himself, the paternal fibre in him must have been pretty strongly developed. When they travelled, he provided them with horses, litters, and coaches; he selected nurses and doctors for them; he gave Humières all kinds of recommendations in regard to the Dauphin, on one occasion telling him to see that the prince used his pocket-handkerchief, as it was most essential to his health; he presented "petites poupines," elaborately dressed, to Madame Claude, and, speculating on a precocious coquetry, sent Madame la Connétable's dressmaker to cut out bodices for the little princesses.[13]

Élisabeth and Claude were frail and delicate children, but Marguerite seems to have been the picture of robust health; and pretty and intelligent as were her elder sisters, she gave promise of altogether surpassing them. "If she preserves the grace, beauty, and quick intelligence that I have observed in her," writes Michieli, "there is no doubt that she will become a very beautiful and rare princess and far superior to her two sisters, Élisabeth and Claude." We have no information about her early years that is to say up to the time of Henri II's death, when she was six except the incident we have already related though she hints, in her Mémoires, that "some other of her childish actions were as worthy of being recorded as those of Themistocles and Alexander."

The little princesses and Mary Stuart received, like the young princes, a most elaborate education, Latin, Greek, and, in the case of the little Queen of Scotland, at any rate, Spanish and Italian being included in the curriculum. The reading of Plutarch left very marked traces on Marguerite's mind, and we find in her Mémoires frequent allusions to the heroes of antiquity.

Catherine, who had all the Medici admiration for learning, carefully supervised the girls' studies, and not a few of the themes set for Mary Stuart to translate into Latin and address under the form of epistolary conversations to Madame Élisabeth and others, were probably dictated by her.[14] "Is it not," asks Armand Baschet, "Catherine, the queen and the mother, who is speaking here?"

"The true greatness and excellence of the Prince, my most beloved sister, consists not in dignity, in gold, in purple, in jewels, and other pomps of Fortune, but in wisdom, in knowledge, and in understanding. And, inasmuch as the Prince desires to be different from his people, in habit and in fashion of living, so ought he to be far removed from the foolish opinions of the vulgar. Adieu, and love me as much as you can."[15]

The Household of the Children of France had been established by Henri II on his accession on a very imposing scale, and, as the number of the little princes and princesses increased, it received fresh accessions. At the end of the reign it included ten chamberlains, seven maîtres d'hôtel, seven butlers, nine cellarers, eight equerries, eight equerries of the stables, thirty-seven pages of honour, eight secretaries, nine ushers of the chambers, twenty-eight valets-de-chambre, four maréchaux des logis, four masters of the wardrobe, two comptrollers-general, five doctors, three surgeons, four apothecaries, four barbers, four ladies of the bedchamber, five demoiselles of the bedchamber, and ten femmes de chambre. What it must have cost to feed the royal children and the army of officials and servants who surrounded them may be conjectured from the fact that the kitchen staff numbered fifty-seven persons, and the provisions for a single day comprised twenty-three dozen loaves of bread, eighteen pieces of beef, eight sheep, four calves, twenty capons, one hundred and twenty pullets or pigeons, three kids, six goslings, four leverets, etc. After March 1553, the Dauphin had an establishment of his own, which numbered over three hundred persons, whose salaries alone amounted to 68,000 livres.

Before leaving the subject of Henri's family, a few words must be said concerning his legitimated daughter, Diane de France, the widow of Orazio Farnese. Diane appears to have been the only one of Henri's children who at all resembled him. This resemblance, according to Brantôme, was "as much in habits and actions as in features of the face, for she loved all the exercises that he loved, whether arms, hunting, or horses." She was a tall, handsome girl, with a superb figure, and the finest horsewoman at the Court. "I think," continues Brantôme, "that it is not possible for a lady to look better on horseback than she did or to have better grace in riding. She was born to it, and she was so graceful that she resembled in this respect the beautiful Camilla, Queen of the Volsci; she was so splendid in stature and shape and face, that it was hard to find any one at Court so superb and graceful at that exercise."[16]

Diane had more substantial claims to the admiration of her contemporaries than good looks and a graceful seat in the saddle. She was one of the most sweet-tempered and kind- hearted of women, and no breath of scandal ever tainted her good name. The royal children were devoted to her, and— what is more — she retained their affection when they grew up.

After the death of Orazio Farnese at the taking of Hesdin, Henri II proposed to the Constable to give the young widow's hand to Montmorency's eldest son, François. The Constable was, of course, transported with joy at the idea of an alliance with the Royal Family, which could not fail to discount to some extent the advantages which the Guises would obtain from the approaching marriage of Mary Stuart with the Dauphin; and, without troubling his head about his son's feelings in the matter — François was at this time a prisoner in the Netherlands — accepted with gratitude his Majesty's gracious proposal.

The arrangements for the projected union were soon made. Henri II assured to his future son-in-law the governments of Paris and of the Île de France, which would keep him near the Court, the collar of the Order of Saint-Michel, and the reversion of his father's office of Grand-Master. To his daughter he gave as dowry the counties of Mantes and Meulan, with a sum of 100,000 livres; and he also contributed a sum of 72,000 livres towards the princely ransom which the Imperialists demanded for the prospective bridegroom.

The Constable could scarcely contain his elation, but; alas! a rude shock was in store for him. For, when François had recovered his liberty and returned to France, he learned, to his indescribable mortification, that his son's affections were already engaged: he had succumbed to the attractions of one of the Queen's maids-of-honour, Mlle. de Piennes, "one of the most beautiful, virtuous, and wise ladies of the Court,"[17] had made her a solemn promise of marriage, in the presence of witnesses, and had proceeded to act as if they were already wed.

For a fortnight the Constable remained shut up in his hôtel in Paris, "weeping and groaning," while all the Court came to offer him their condolences, some no doubt sincere, but most, we fear, ironical, since the old gentleman was not exactly beloved. Then grief gave way to the most terrible rage, which his family vainly endeavoured to pacify. No matter how great the scandal might be, he swore that François should be separated from this designing minx who had persuaded him to forget the duty which he owed his father; and on October 5, 1556, the two lovers were summoned before a commission of bishops and Councillors of State at the Louvre. They pleaded that they were not aware that clandestine marriages were culpable; but this excuse was judged insufficient, and Mlle. de Piennes was shut up in the Couvent des Filles-Dieu, while François, terrified by the paternal threats, started for Rome to solicit from the Pope the annulment of his promise.

Three months later, one of François's gentlemen presented himself at the Couvent des Filles-Dieu and handed Mlle. de Piennes a letter from his master, in which he informed her that, "repenting of the offence which he had committed against God, the King, and his parents," he had demanded and obtained from the Pope a dispensation releasing him from his promise of marriage, and that, in consequence, he released the lady, in his turn, from hers, "being resolved to have no more private communication with her, notwithstanding the esteem in which he held her." Mlle. de Piennes, after reading the letter, told the bearer that "she saw very clearly that M. de Montmorency preferred to be a wealthy rather than an honest man," and that, since he did not wish to keep faith with her, she would release him from his promise. And a legal document to that effect was drawn up.

Now the feeble lover had lied, by the orders of his father — his letter had, in fact, been composed on the model of one sent him by the Constable — for Paul IV had not granted the dispensation demanded; and in February 1557 he pronounced definitely against François, on the ground that the Church, previous to the Council of Trent, had recognised marriages contracted on a simple mutual promise. Probably, the Guises, all-powerful just then at Rome, were no strangers to this decision.

The civil power, however, came to the Constable's aid, and on March 1, 1557 a royal edict appeared — the famous Édit ambitieux — which declared all promises of marriages, past and future, made by children without the parental sanction, null and void, even if the parties were of full age.

Thus all impediment to the alliance of the House of Montmorency with the Royal Family was removed; and on the following May 4 the marriage of François and Diane was duly celebrated at La Ferté-Milon. Contrary to what one might expect, it proved an exceptionally happy one.

As for the victim of the Constable's ambition, she was released from her convent, and, in due course, found a husband.

But he was not the heir to a dukedom.

Up to the time of his accession to the throne, Henri, contrary to the fashion of the time, had been in the habit of shaving, but three years later we learn that he wore "a pointed beard of two fingers' length." This served to conceal his rather coarse mouth and heavy jaw, and added dignity to his appearance, since Contarini tells us that "the whole ensemble of his countenance is extremely prepossessing, and breathes a fine air of majesty."[18] On the other hand, it made him look many years older than he was, for he grew grey very early, and at thirty-five might have been taken by a stranger for quite an elderly man. If, however, that stranger had been privileged to follow his Majesty from his lever to his coucher any day of the week, he would have soon had cause to revise his opinion, for never was there a more energetic monarch.

He rose very early, "in summer, at dawn; in winter, with the light."[19] The doors of his bedchamber were thrown open, and the princes, nobles, captains, chevaliers of the Order, gentlemen of the Chamber, maîtres-d'hôtel, and gentlemen servants,[20] who had been waiting in the ante-chamber, entered and stood in a circle round the royal bed, each occupying the place prescribed by his birth or the importance of his functions. The prince of the highest rank present handed the King his shirt, and his Majesty dressed, talking the while with first one and then another of those present, "which pleased them greatly." His toilette completed, he knelt before a little altar which stood in the room and said his prayers, after which all the courtiers withdrew. His Majesty then read his despatches and held his Conseil étroit, or Privy Council, in which questions of peace and war, of military organisation, and of the administration of the kingdom were deliberated upon. At ten o'clock, the King heard Mass "very devoutly," after which he gave audience to the Ambassadors and other persons of importance.[21] At noon came dinner, when the etiquette which had marked the lever resumed its sway. The dinner was brought in in solemn state, one of the gentlemen of the Chamber heading the procession, followed by the maitre-d' hotel and the officers of the pantry and the cellar. There was a great variety of dishes, for in the culinary art the French had already attained a high degree of excellence, and "all the foreign princes sent to France to seek chefs and pastry-cooks";[22] but the King had a very small appetite, and merely tasted a few of those which were presented to him, while he also drank very sparingly. Roses, carnations, and other sweet-scented flowers in beautifully-chased gold and silver bowls graced the board, the table-linen was delicately perfumed, and during the meal musicians played in a gallery at the end of the room.

After dinner, the General Council met, at which, however, the King seldom assisted. On two afternoons a week, and sometimes oftener, he hunted, always accompanied by a great many nobles and gentlemen and a considerable number of ladies. Henri II was, like his father, passionately devoted to the chase, and his game-laws were almost as severe as those of Louis XI, of whom it was said that it was much easier to obtain his pardon for having slain a man than for having killed a stag. In the year of his accession, he issued an edict which decreed that all persons, not of gentle blood, who presumed to hunt big game should be fined 25 livres for a first offence, and whipped until the blood flowed in default of payment; while a repetition of the offence was to be punished by banishment, and death was to be the penalty of a defiance of the ban. His hunting establishment was a magnificent one, and the Grand Veneur had under his orders nearly sixty persons. He kept two packs of hounds, "those of a grey colour, which had come down to him from the Kings his predecessors, and those of a white colour, which he had bred himself." The white, we are told, were the swifter, but the grey had the keener scent. Sometimes the King hunted with one, and sometimes with the other, and occasionally with a mixed pack. He had also a pack of little dogs, called "les régents," for the pursuit of small game, and we find him writing to Humières to express his satisfaction at the pleasure which the Dauphin had derived from hunting with them.[23]

Catherine was almost as fond of the chase as her husband. "She was a very good and fearless horsewoman," says Brantôme, "sitting with ease, and being the first to put her leg around a pommel, which was far more graceful and becoming than sitting with the feet upon a plank. Until she was over sixty she loved riding, and after her weakness prevented her, she pined for it. It was one of her greatest pleasures to ride far and fast, though she fell many times and injured herself, on one occasion breaking her leg and injuring her head, which had to be trepanned." She was also, he tells us, very fond of shooting with a cross-bow, and always carried it with her when she went riding, to bring down any game she saw.

Mary Stuart was also a bold horsewoman, but after she had sustained a severe fall, through being caught by the bough of a tree while hunting near Blois, she appears to have renounced the chase.

Diane de Poitiers, one would suppose, from her fondness for identifying herself with her Olympian namesake, would have been invariably in the first flight. But, though she rode every morning for the benefit which her complexion derived from the exercise, she hesitated to risk her carefully preserved charms amidst the brambles and overhanging branches of the forests.

The King's devotion to the chase extended to horses, and he did more for the improvement of the race in France than any of his predecessors. The stables at the Château des Tournelles and at Oyron, the residence of the Grand Equerry de Boisy, contained some magnificent animals, and he had large stud farms at Meung-sur-Loir and Saint-Léger, near Beauvais. The King's example was followed by François de Guise, who also had a stud farm at Saint-Léger as well as at Éclaron and Joinville, and by several other nobles; but, despite their efforts, horse-breeding did not flourish in France, and all through the sixteenth century there was a great scarcity of horses, and almost every country in Europe had to be drawn upon to supply the deficiency. Spanish horses were the most esteemed, and next to them Italian, and both commanded very high prices; but many animals were also imported from the Barbary States, England, and Ireland.

However, we have been tempted into a digression, and must return to the Court.

On the days on which there was no hunting-party, the Queen held a "cercle" in her own apartments, "in order that she might become acquainted with the courtiers," which Henri always made a point of attending. These assemblies, which mark an important stage in the progress of French society from the barbarism of the Middle Ages to that exquisite culture and refinement which were to make it the admiration of the whole civilised world, must have been most interesting functions, since they were attended by practically the whole Court.

Let us endeavour to picture to ourselves the scene:

Here is Catherine, a tall and stately figure, very richly dressed, and in the most perfect taste; not exactly handsome — "except when her face is veiled," says Capello — for her mouth is too large and her eyes too prominent and colourless for beauty, but a very distinguished-looking woman, with a shapely figure, a beautiful skin, and exquisitely shaped hands; while her manners are charming, and she has a pleasant smile or a few well-chosen words for each of her guests.

Near her is Diane de Poitiers in her black and white gown; already on the threshold of old age, though the passing of the years has left few traces on that serene countenance, and it is indeed difficult to believe that she is old enough to be the mother of the grey-haired King, who seems to hang upon her every word.

Behind them, plucking impatiently at his white beard, for he is anxious to have a word with his master on some matter of importance which has occurred since the rising of the Council, is the old Constable. He is much more at home in the camp than in a queen's apartments, and looks upon attendance at her Majesty's "cercle" as a sinful waste of time, which might be much better employed in writing his despatches. But he comes, nevertheless, since his absence would be remarked, and he wishes to stand well with Catherine. He will have to wait longer for his word with the King than he thinks, however, for as Henri, with a deep reverence, turns away from his mistress, Mesdames Élisabeth and Claude pounce upon their old friend and carry him off into a distant corner, to coax him into persuading their father to buy them something on which they have set their hearts.

Not far off are two men in earnest talk. One, a tall, soldierly figure with a terrible scar on his right cheek, is François de Guise, become, since his brilliant defence of Metz, the idol of the fickle Paris mob. The other, who wears the red robe of a prince of the Church, is a man of commanding presence, with a lofty forehead, keen grey eyes, and a complexion delicate as a woman's. He is the duke's brother, the Cardinal de Lorraine — learned, eloquent, and witty, cruel, cunning, and avaricious; "a fanatic by profession and an unbeliever at heart;" as ready with a quotation from Horace as with one from Holy Writ, and with a piquant story as with sage counsel; the ablest man in France and the most unscrupulous.

From time to time the glances of the two brothers stray towards the deep embrasure of one of the beautiful Renais sance windows, where a lad and a young girl are whispering together. A strange contrast do they present: the girl perfect in face and form, with a shapely little head crowned by a mass of fair hair, expressive blue eyes veiled by long lashes, a dazzling complexion, a pretty, sensitive mouth, and a winning smile; the lad, a puny creature, pallid and heavy- eyed, the mark of a premature death already stamped upon his brow. The Guises exchange meaning smiles, for it is to the coming marriage of their beautiful niece to the sickly heir to the Crown of France that they look to extend and consolidate their influence.

And here are the three Colignys: Odet, Cardinal de Châtillon; Gaspard, who has succeeded Annebaut in the post of Admiral of France, though, unlike his predecessor, he will never fight upon the sea; and François, Seigneur d'Andelot, to whom Gaspard has been permitted to transfer the colonel-generalship of infantry. François will not hold that post long, however, for, unlike the cardinal and the Admiral, he will not wait for the death of Henri II to proclaim his adhesion to the Reformed faith, and his disgrace will speedily follow. The brothers look grave, for, now that peace has come, they fear a fresh outburst of persecution against "those of the Religion"; but a little fair man with very bright eyes and a good-humoured expression joins them, and soon they are all three laughing merrily. The newcomer is Louis de Bourbon, Prince de Condé, also a Huguenot in secret, and ere three years are past to become the titular leader of the militant French Protestants, though the easy morals of

"Ce petit homme tant jolly,

Qui tousjours cause et tousjours ry,

Et tousjours baise sa mignonne,"

are scarcely consistent with the austere religion which he has embraced and for which he will give his life. Probably, however, hostility to the Guises has had at least as much to do with his change of faith as sincere conviction.

There are many other men and women scattered about the spacious rooms who have helped, or will help, to make history: the subtle Italian Albert de Gondi, Comte, and afterwards Duc, de Retz, who is to become the evil genius of Charles IX; bluff Tavannes, almost the only man at the Court who declines to bow the knee to Diane, and who, like Retz, will share with Catherine the guilt of the St. Bartholomew; Brissac, fresh from his gallant defence of Piedmont; Montmorency-Damville, the Constable's second son, a brave soldier, the finest horseman in all France, and a dandy of the first elegance, whom all the young nobles of the Court take as their model, "imitating everything he does, even to the smallest peculiarity which they perceive in his dress ";[24] his three younger brothers, Méru, Montbéron, and Thoré, all three men of some note in time to come; Joachim du Bellay, whose reputation as a Court poet is second only to Ronsard's, and whose cats dispute with his mistress the possession of his heart; Nemours, the lady-killer; Madame Marguerite, the King's sister, whose erudition has won for her the title of the Minerva of France, and who, at the mature age of thirty-five, will marry Emmanuel Philibert of Savoy; the lawful and unlawful owners of Condé's affections, the pious Éléonore de Roye and the beautiful Isabelle de Limeuil; François de Guise's lovely Italian wife, Anne d'Este, and "a troop of human goddesses, one more beautiful than another,"[25] who will provide the chroniclers of their time with material for many a piquant page.

Although there was nothing ceremonious about these gatherings, no amusements appear to have been provided for the courtiers, not even music. The time passed in talk — and flirtation — "every lord and gentleman entertaining her whom he loved best."[26] At three o'clock, the company dispersed, and "the King went to enjoy divers exercises, the ladies generally following him and sharing his pleasure."[27] Sometimes he played pall-mall — a game in which the Queen and her ladies could join him; sometimes he tilted at the ring; but most frequently, "dressed all in white, with white shoes on his feet and a straw hat on his head, he played tennis with Monseigneur de Guise and other gentlemen."[28] "When one sees him playing thus," continues the writer," one would not believe that he is the King, since he is not treated with any ceremony or deference, save that when he passes under the net they raise it for him, and that when he requires a ball they pass it to him on a racquet. Otherwise, no one would know that it is the King who is playing. They even discuss his faults, and I have observed on several occasions that a disputed point has been given against him. Any one who wishes may come and watch him. While playing to-day, I know not how, a ball which M. de Guise had missed struck this nobleman in the face and split his lip. M. de Guise retired at once to his apartments, and his Majesty ceased playing. The injury was not a serious one."[29]

The programme of the evening resembled that of the morning. Supper, the hour of which varied according to the season of the year, was served with the same ceremony as dinner. Afterwards, the Queen held another "cercle," but sometimes there was a ball, at which the pavane, the allemande, the branle des torches,[30] and other stately dances of the time were performed.

Until 1557 it was the King's custom to spend the time after supper with Diane, but during the last two years of his life he generally passed an hour in his wife's apartments. At ten o'clock he retired, his coucher being attended by the same courtiers and marked by the same etiquette as his lever, with the addition that the Grand Chamberlain solemnly inspected the bed to satisfy himself that it had been properly made. The final ceremony was the arrival of an usher bearing the keys of the Château, which he placed under his Majesty's pillow. Then the courtiers withdrew and left the King to his well-earned repose.

The Court of Henri II was certainly no more moral than that of his father, but it was infinitely more decorous. No longer might young gentlemen be overheard telling risky stories to a circle of giggling maids-of-honour; no longer might pages and grooms be seen dicing and quarreling on the steps of the palace; no longer did the salary of "the gouvernante of the filles publiques who follow the Court" figure in the accounts of the Royal Treasury. It was the King who gave the tone. Apart from his liaison with a woman twenty years his senior — a liaison consecrated by artists and painters — a liaison which professedly was merely the chivalrous devotion of a knight for his inspiratrice — no French monarch has been more correct than Henri II, or has more rigorously observed in his ordinary life the dignity which his exalted rank imposed; none has known better how to preserve appearances. What Brantôme tells us of his solicitude for feminine reputations and the care which he took to conceal his own amourettes is confirmed by Contarini. "As for carnal pleasures," writes that observant diplomatist, "if we compare him to the King his father, or to some defunct kings, one might call him very chaste; and, further, he conducts his love-affairs in such fashion that no one is able to talk about them, which was not the case with King François." And he adds: "The Court, which was then one of the most licentious, is now rather regular."

Henri II, indeed, exacted from his entourage the discretion which he imposed on himself, and, if, from policy or affection for the Constable, he had not defended the strict rights of morality in the affair of Mlle. de Piennes, he showed himself in other cases very severe towards those who compromised the apparent regularity of his Court.

In his endeavours to enforce decorum, Henri II was ably seconded by the Queen, who was even more severe than her husband. In later years, as we know, Catherine's austerity yielded to political calculations, and she is believed to have made a pretty extensive use of the charms of her "escadron volant" against Condé, Henri of Navarre, and other Protestant chiefs. But there was nothing of that kind during the lifetime of Henri II; she guarded the reputation of her ladies as jealously as she did her own, and woe betide the rash gallant who failed in respect towards them. When a facetious gentleman named Gersay was accused of perpetrating a practical joke worthy of Panurge at the expense of one of the Queen's maids-of-honour, notwithstanding that he stoutly denied the charge, and that it was impossible to bring it home to him, her Majesty's wrath was so great that he found it advisable to absent himself from Court for some considerable time. When another gentleman, while bandying repartees with Mlle. de Meray, the most stalwart lady of the Court, so far forgot his good manners as to compare her to "une grande courcière bardable," he likewise was compelled to withdraw, and, even after his return, was excluded from the Queen's "cercle" for some weeks.

Although, feeling that her dignity as a woman and as a Queen was at stake, Catherine always took the part of her filles d'honneur in their quarrels with the courtiers, if one of these damsels committed any breach of decorum, she would summon the delinquent before her and rate her till the girl trembled in her shoes; while should one be so unfortunate as to be detected in a transgression against the moral law, she was pitiless. Thus, being informed one evening at Saint-Germain that all was not as it should be with Mlle. Françoise de Rohan,[31] in the early hours of the following morning, accompanied by Diane de Poitiers and Madame la Connétable, she invaded that young lady's chamber, and satisfied herself that rumour had not lied. "Quelle honte vous me faites!" cried Catherine in tones of righteous horror, and the unfortunate girl was summoned to her cabinet, where, with the King, the Constable, the Cardinal de Lorraine, Madame la Connétable, Diane de Poitiers, and the Duchesse de Montpensier, she sat in judgment upon her, with the result that Mlle. de Rohan was sent home to her parents, and the Court knew her no more.

Mlle. Rohan had committed the unforgivable sin of being found out,[32] but there were, we fear, a good many others among the three hundred ladies about the Court who shared her unfortunate sensibility to admiration, although they contrived to avoid or, at any rate, to conceal, the consequences, and to preserve an appearance of virtue. And that was all that was required of them; for, notwithstanding all this ostentatious regard for morality, the Court of Henri II was just as corrupt as that of François I.[33] The only difference was that between an open grave and a whited sepulchre.

Notes

(1) Armand Baschet, la Diplomatie vénitienne.

(2) See p. 241 supra.

(3) Henri I de Lorraine, Duc de Guise, eldest son of the defender of Metz and likewise called "le Balafré." He was assassinated at Blois, December 23, 1588.

(4) Henri de Bourbon; he died in 1560.

(5) Marguerite's early opinion of Henri de Guise did not prevent her falling very much in love with him when she grew up. See the author's "Queen Margot."

(6) Ruble, la Première Jeunesse de Marie Stuart."

(7) Ibid.

(8) La Diplomatie vénitienne.

(9) He was very proud of the suppleness of his body, and at the age of thirteen made a wager for an immense sum that in three years' time he would be able to kiss his foot. We are not told whether he won it.

(10) Giovanni Michieli, in Armand Baschet.

(11) Mémoires de Bouillon.

(12) Mémoires de Marguerite de Valois.

(13) F. Decrue, Anne, duc de Montmorency; A. de Ruble, la Première jeunesse de Marie Stuart.

(14) Sixty-four of these themes written by Mary in her twelfth and thirteenth year are preserved in the MSS. Department of the Bibliothèque Nationale.

(15) La Diplomatie vénitienne.

(16) Dames illustres.

(17) Brantôme.

(18) La Diplomatie vénitienne.

(19) Giovanni Capello.

(20) Letter of Catherine de' Medici to Charles IX, 1563, in Le Laboureur, Additions aux Mémoires de Castelnau.

(21) A nephew of Giovanni Capello, who accompanied his uncle to France in 1551, left a diario, which contains some very interesting details of the first audience accorded by Henri II to that diplomatist, at which the writer was himself present: "We were introduced," he says, "into the room in which his Majesty is accustomed to take his meals, in the palace called the Louvre, overlooking the Seine. . . . His Majesty was standing near a window, dressed in a doublet of black damask bordered with velvet and very handsomely ornamented, and a justaucorps of white leather embroidered with two golden crescents united and joined by the embrace of the two "D's," even as the two souls of the two lovers are united and reunited in a close attachment. His Majesty wore round his neck a chain of wrought gold, and on his head a black velvet cap with a little white plume. The Swiss and the men of the King's Guard are all habited in the same livery, with a silver crescent on the front and back bearing this motto: Donec totum impleat orbem [Until it fill the whole world]. There were present his Majesty, the most illustrious Constable, the very reverend Cardinals de Lorraine, de Bourbon, and de Vendôme, and many other nobles. When the Ambassadors had made their customary salutations in the middle of the room, they approached the King and saluted him again. His Majesty embraced with great marks of kindness the most illustrious Capello, who presented to him his letters of credit. His Majesty opened them and wished to read them himself. The Ambassador then explained the object of his mission. I was a little far away, as were all the others, but I saw, nevertheless, that, although the most illustrious Capello spoke at considerable length, his Majesty listened most attentively to everything, and refused to allow either of the two Ambassadors to remain uncovered. . . The King replied to them in perfect fashion."

(22) Mémoires de Vieilleville.

(23) Brantôme; La Ferrière, les Grandes Chasses au XVI siècle.

(24) Salomon de la Brue, Préceptes de la cavalerie.

(25) Brantôme.

(26) Brantôme.

(27) Ibid.

(28) Capello.

(29) Ibid.

(30) So called because the dancers passed a torch from one to another.

(31) Daughter of René de Rohan and Isabeau d'Albret, daughter of Jean d'Albret, King of Navarre.

(32) In justice to Mlle. de Rohan, it should be mentioned that the fascinating Duc de Nemours, who was responsible for her condition, had promised her marriage, though not in the presence of witnesses. He declined to perform his promise, and Mlle. de Rohan and her relatives instituted proceedings against him before the Parlement of Paris, the King's Council, and the Pope, with the object of compelling him to do so. The affair dragged on for years, but was ultimately decided against the lady, and Nemours married the widow of François de Guise.

(33) It was, perhaps, a good deal worse, since it was being slowly permeated by Italian corruption, and vices to which François's courtiers had happily been strangers had crept in.

Chapter XXIV

Intrigues of the Guises with Paul IV — Their audacious projects in Italy — Despatch of Cardinal Carlo Caraffa to France — Treaty of Fontainebleau between France and the Pope against Philip II of Spain — Guise's Italian expedition — Futile invasion of Naples — War on the northern frontier — England declares war against France — Saint-Quentin is besieged by the Spaniards — Disastrous defeat of the Constable in an attempt to revictual the town; Montmorency and Saint-André taken prisoners — Consternation in France — The heroic defence of Saint-Quentin by Coligny saves the situation — Expedition of Guise against Calais — Failure of the English Government to reinforce the garrison — Calais and Guines are taken, and the English expelled from France

THE Court of France seems to have concluded the Truce of Vaucelles for the mere pleasure of breaking it; in a few months the dogs of war were again slipped.

The termination of hostilities in February 1556 had been a grave check to the Guises, who had built great hopes on the anti-Spanish proclivities of the new Pope and formed audacious projects on Italy for their personal aggrandizement. Six weeks before the truce, the Cardinal de Lorraine had concluded, at Rome, a secret treaty with Paul IV, in the name of the King, whereby it was agreed that the two sovereigns should make a combined attack upon the Spaniards and their allies in Italy, and re-establish the Republic of Florence by the expulsion of Cosimo de' Medici. In the event of the Spaniards being expelled from the Milanese, the Pope promised the investiture of the duchy to the King's second son, the Duc d'Orléans.

The Guises, however, themselves proposed to be the principal gainers by this alliance. The duke hoped that a great conflagration of Italy might afford him the chance of seizing the Crown of Naples, which his ancestors of the House of Anjou had worn; the cardinal aimed at the Papal tiara, and believed that, when the aged Pontiff should lay it aside, the presence of the French armies in Italy might not be without influence on the decision of the Conclave.

Paul IV shared the disgust of the Lorraine princes at the conclusion of the truce, and, urged on by his nephew, Carlo Caraffa, forthwith determined to use every possible persuasion to induce France to break it. This engaging personage, whom Paul had recently created a cardinal, notwithstanding the fact that he had once been a leader of condottieri and had committed at least two assassinations, was nominated Legate in France, with the avowed mission of bringing about a definite peace in Europe, but with the secret task of engaging the French Government in a fresh Italian enterprise.

The cardinal arrived at Fontainebleau, bearing a sword and a rosary both blessed by the Holy Father, which he presented to the King and Queen respectively. As a concession to the obligations of his official charge, he discoursed eloquently at his first audience on the blessings of peace, but no one doubted that he brought war under his red robe. The Guises had already prepared the way; Madame de Valentinois supported them; and, though the Constable urged that the truce should be observed, the war party, as in 1551, was too strong for him, and, fearing to compromise his position by a too strenuous resistance, he yielded,[01] predicting, however, that "they would set out on horseback and return on foot." On July 31, war was decided upon; the Legate, in the name of the Pope, absolved Henri II from his oath to observe the truce, and it was agreed that the army of Italy should be entrusted to François de Guise.

Paul IV had not waited for this decision to provoke Philip II, and in September, Alva, now Viceroy of Naples, invaded the Campagna and compelled his Holiness to sign a truce until the end of the year. The mitred adventurer intimated his willingness to betray his new allies in return for the cession of the town of Siena; but this the King of Spain had already promised to Cosimo de' Medici.

Alva's invasion furnished France with a casus belli, but the efforts of Henri II to draw into the Pontifical alliance several Italian States met with little success; the Republic of Siena and the Duke of Ferrara alone joined it. In the last days of December, François de Guise crossed the Alps at the head of some 13,000 men and a crowd of noble volunteers, and having been joined in the plain of the Po by Brissac and the Army of Piedmont, marched on Valenza and carried it by assault (January 20). Almost simultaneously, hostilities began on the northern frontier, where Coligny, after an unsuccessful attempt to surprise Douai, took and burned Lens, in Artois, and on January 31, 1557 war was officially declared.

If Guise had confined his operations to the Milanese, in which the Spaniards were just then extremely weak, he must have speedily reduced the whole duchy to submission. But he sacrificed the interests of France to his own views on Naples and to the importunities of the Pope, who feared an attack by the Spaniards on Rome and a repetition of the horrors of 1527; and pushed on to the Eternal City, which he entered on March 2. Here he wasted a full month in disputes with the Caraffi, who urged him to invade Neapolitan territory, but failed to furnish him with the money and troops promised. "The Pope was content to be the soul of the enterprise of which France was to furnish the body."[02]

On April 5, he quitted Rome, penetrated into the Abruzzi, stormed and sacked Campi, and laid siege to Civitella. But the place was stubbornly defended; the besiegers were decimated by disease, and, on the approach of Alva at the head of an army superior to his own, Guise raised the siege and fell back to Tivoli, and finally to Rome, where, at the beginning of August, he received orders to return to France.

Paul IV's indignation on finding himself abandoned by the French knew no bounds. "Go, then," said he, when Guise came to take leave of him; "you have done little for your King's service, still less for the Church, and nothing at all for your own honour!" Such language came rather badly from the Holy Father, who, for some weeks past, had been negotiating with his "prodigal son" — as he called Philip II — behind his allies' back; and it was, in point of fact, the discovery of these intrigues by the French Government that had led to Guise's recall.[03] On September 14, the Pope made peace with Spain on terms very much more advantageous than he deserved, and turned his energies to the suppression of heresy.

The war on the northern frontier was carried on in desultory fashion for some months. The best French troops were with Guise and Brissac in Italy; the reserves, disgusted at being summoned again into the field after so brief an interval of repose, answered the call slowly and reluctantly; while in the landsknecht market the supply just then was quite unequal to the demand, and it was only with great difficulty that the services of some 10,000 mercenaries were secured. France was therefore obliged to remain on the defensive; but Henri II and the Constable acted as though they had little to fear, and made no attempt to strengthen the Picardy frontier. Philip II, on the contrary, showed commendable energy, and assembled an army of some 60,000 men in the Netherlands under the command of the Duke of Savoy.

In conjunction with Mary, he also endeavoured to drag England into the war, and, thanks to the injudicious assistance rendered by Henri II to Sir Thomas Stafford's foolhardy descent upon the Yorkshire coast, which aroused great irritation in England, their efforts were eventually crowned with success; and on June 7 war was declared.[04]

Seven thousand English soldiers were shipped across the Channel, but their allies did not await their arrival to take the offensive. After a feint in the direction of Champagne, the Duke of Savoy invaded Picardy and laid siege to Saint-Quentin, on the Somme, one of the main bulwarks of Paris. Coligny, with a few hundred men, succeeded in throwing himself into the place before the investment was completed, and actively organized the defence; but the fortifications of Saint-Quentin were old-fashioned and crumbling, and he perceived that, unless help speedily arrived, its fate was sealed. Realizing the importance of succouring a town whose fall would open the road to the capital, the Constable hurried northwards with all the troops he could muster. These, however, did not exceed 20,000 men, including 500 men-at-arms and 1,000 light horse, and a great number of nobles and gentlemen.[05]

The overwhelming superiority of the enemy in numbers decided Montmorency not to risk an engagement, but merely to make a feint against the besiegers' lines, and, under cover of this movement, to throw 2,000 men under Coligny's brother Andelot and a quantity of provisions into the town, after which he intended to retire.

Accordingly, at nine o'clock on the morning of August 10, the French guns opened a heavy cannonade against the quarters of the Duke of Savoy, who was compelled to beat a precipitate retreat. This was an excellent beginning, but the boats required by Andelot to cross the Somme had, through some misunderstanding, been left in the rear of the army; and it was not until after a delay of two hours that they were brought up.

This delay ruined everything. Andelot only succeeded in getting into the town with a mere handful of men; and when Montmorency began to retire, he found that the enemy had crossed the Somme by a ford of which he appears to have been in ignorance, seized the only road by which he could retreat, and cut his army right in two.

Surprised and hopelessly outnumbered, the French were completely routed. Nevers, Condé, and François de Montmorency succeeded in effecting their retreat to La Fère with the troops which they commanded. But the second Comte d'Enghien, Montmorency's son-in-law the Vicomte de Turenne, 600 gentlemen, and 2,500 men were killed, and more than 7,000 made prisoners, among whom were the Constable himself,[06] his fourth son, Montmorency-Montbéron, Saint-André, Longueville, La Rochefoucauld, Gontaut-Biron — in fact, the finest nobility in France. It was a second Pavia.

The news of the battle of Saint-Quentin, or Saint-Laurent, as contemporary writers call it — it was fought on St. Lawrence's Day — created the utmost consternation in Paris, and it was feared that the Duke of Savoy would mask Saint-Quentin with a small force, overwhelm the débris of the routed army at La Fère, and march straight upon the capital. This, in fact, was the course which Philibert was anxious to pursue; "but," says Montluc, "God was pleased miraculously to deprive the King of Spain of his right judgment,"[07] and he ordered the Duke to remain before Saint-Quentin until the town had fallen."

Philip doubtless anticipated an easy task, but it proved a much more difficult one than he had bargained for, as the splendid example of Coligny inspired the garrison and the inhabitants to heroic efforts; and it was not until after a resistance of fifteen days, by which time eleven breaches had been made in the walls, that Saint-Quentin was taken by assault, amid the usual scenes of horror which marked such incidents at this period. Coligny was made prisoner and sent to join his relatives in Flanders. The English contingent, who had now arrived on the scene, shared in the storming and sack of the town.

Its heroic defence, however, had saved the situation. While the Spaniards were battering down its feeble walls, Paris, recovering from its first alarm, had voted, in response to an eloquent harangue by the Queen, who showed, in this crisis, admirable courage and presence of mind, a sum of 300,000 livres, an example which was followed by the principal towns of the kingdom; new companies of men-at-arms and infantry had been raised; mercenaries brought from Switzerland and Germany, and François de Guise, summoned to return with all possible speed, was approaching. "The advantage which my enemies have gained over me," wrote Henri II to the duke, "is not so great but that I have good hope, with the aid of God, of shortly having revenge."

He had, however, some little time to wait for his revenge, and, in the meanwhile, Philip II took Noyon and burned it literally to the ground. But, by the end of October, France had 50,000 men under arms, and Guise was at their head.

The duke, who had arrived at Saint-Germain on October 6, had found a clear field; the Constable and the greatest nobles of France were prisoners, and the Montmorency party utterly discredited by the disaster of Saint-Quentin, which had caused the Neapolitan fiasco to be forgotten. Upon himself all the hopes of France were now centred; and the King hastened to appoint him Lieutenant-General of the Kingdom, with the fullest powers.

Early in November, the inability or unwillingness of Philip II to furnish the money to pay the troops had compelled the Duke of Savoy to disband his army. Guise might have taken advantage of his retirement to attempt the recovery of Saint-Quentin; but the difficulties of a winter campaign in the ruined Vermandois caused him to discard this project for one which would gratify the national pride and assure to himself an immense popularity: the taking of Calais and the final expulsion of the English from French soil.

The loss and recovery of Boulogne had naturally drawn attention to Calais, since two hundred years in the possession of England, and the question of an attempt upon it appears to have several times been discussed. If we are to believe Brantôme, Coligny was "the first inventor of this enterprise," and in the previous year had drawn up elaborate plans of attack. Both Brantôme and the Huguenot historian La Place assert that in 1557 it was Henri II who suggested it, and the latter adds that the King insisted on Guise undertaking the expedition, although the duke, either because he believed the attempt impossible, or because he desired to exaggerate its difficulties in order to enhance the merits of his expected success, resisted for some time. But whoever ought to be given the credit of the idea, there can be no question that the merit of its execution belongs entirely to Guise.

The Calais Pale comprised three forts: Calais itself and the two outlying forts of Guines and Ham; the former lying about three miles from Calais; the latter between the two, equidistant from both. Two fortresses defended the approaches to Calais: one called by the French Nieullay, and by the English Newnham Bridge, commanded the only road across the marshes; the other, the Rysbank, protected the approach from the dunes along the shore, and commanded the entrance to the harbour and the town. There was also a smaller work called the Sandgate, which, as its name implies, covered the entrance to the dunes. At Nieullay, there were sluices through which, at high water, the sea could be let in over the marshes.

Calais had been so long in the possession of the English that they had come to regard it as impregnable,[08] and during the winter it was the custom to keep but a few hundred men there. The fortifications, as well as those of Guines and Ham, had been repaired by Henry VIII in 1541, but they had been again allowed to fall into ruin, and the sluices at Neuillay were out of order. Guise made his preparations with the utmost secrecy and care, writing all his orders with his own hand, so that there might be no possibility of misunderstanding. Towards the end of December, all was in readiness, and the troops began assembling at Abbeville. Lord Grey de Wilton and Wentworth, who commanded at Guines and Calais respectively, wrote warning Mary of the French preparations; but, though the Queen gave orders for reinforcements to be sent, she subsequently countermanded them, on the ground that "she had intelligence that no enterprise was intended against Calais or the Pale."

On New Year's Day 1558, Calais was invested by 20,000 men, and on the following morning the French advanced in force against Nieullay, and attempted to take it by assault. The attack was gallantly repulsed, but before evening Guise had carried both the Sandgate and Rysbank forts, thus obtaining command of the entrance to the harbour and cutting off all communication with England.

Nothing now could save the town, which was only garrisoned by 500 men, unprovisioned for a siege, and exposed to a furious cannonade from the French batteries at the Rysbank, except the prompt advance of a relieving army from the Netherlands. The Duke of Savoy hurriedly collected some Spanish troops at Gravelines, and sent to England for assistance; but, when the men were ready to embark, there were no ships to transport them. The Spaniards, unaided, made a really gallant attempt to break through the besiegers' lines and force their way into the town; but they were easily repulsed, and on January 6 Calais surrendered.

Calais was lost; but Guines might perhaps have been saved, had not the scandalous mismanagement of the English Government prevented the reinforcements from sailing. And so, on January 20, after a brave defence, Guines surrendered, and the last remnant of the continental dominions of the Plantagenets was gone.

The capture of Calais had an immense moral effect. In England, it excited a violent outcry against the unpopular rule of Mary and undoubtedly hastened the death of the Queen. In France, it revived the confidence of the nation, so rudely shaken by the disaster of Saint-Quentin, and induced an assembly of Notables which the financial straits of the Government had compelled Henri II to convene in Paris to vote a loan of three million écus "for the service of the country."

In celebration of the recovery of Calais, the King, on the night of January 20, 1558, treated the Parisians to a sumptuous Oriental masquerade in the Rue Saint-Antoine. "By the light of forty-eight torches," writes Sauval, "the King and the Dauphin with several princes and other great nobles took part in a tournament. Some armed in Turkish fashion, others like Moors, and all mounted on small horses, issued from the Hôtel des Tournelles and from that of the Connétable de Montmorency, situated in the Rue Saint-Antoine. The Turks, among whom was Henri II, accompanied by the Dauphin and several Princes of the Blood, carried on the left shoulder a quiver full of arrows, and were dressed in garments of white silk, made like those of the Levantines. In one hand, they held a buckler, in the other, a hollow ball of terra-cotta. At their head marched the trumpeters of the King on horseback; and behind them twelve men clothed in white, in Turkish fashion, mounted on asses and mules, each having in front of him two drums and two tymbals. Scarcely had they reached the field of battle when the Moors arrived, and they all forthwith began to charge against one another; sometimes flinging their balls and sometimes shooting their arrows; at first two by two, and afterwards all together; always to the sound of the tymbals, drums, and trumpets, which made in truth a strange music, but rather well concerted. Finally, they rallied, and, ranging themselves in a circle, two by two and to the sound of the same instruments, they tried to make their horses dance in time, with appalling cries and whoops."

Notes

(1) His desire to placate the Pope, in the hope that he might be persuaded to pronounce in favour of his son in the affair of Mlle. de Piennes, was probably one of the reasons of his feeble resistance.

(2) Froude.

(3) And not the disaster of Saint-Quentin, as Henri Martin, Dr. Kitchin, and other historians seem to imagine. This defeat occurred some days after the orders for the recall of Guise were despatched.

(4) Mary was in so desperate a hurry to send her defiance to Henri II, whom she cordially hated, that the English herald arrived at Villers-Cotterets, where the Court then was, without a passport, without the insignia of his office, and without even announcing his coming. The King took this precipitancy in good part, and gave him a valuable gold chain; but the Constable was furious, and told the herald that he had rendered himself liable to be hanged.

(5) But the army was not, as some historians state, mainly French; nearly two-thirds of the infantry were landsknechts: to be precise, fifteen French companies and twenty-two German.

(6) Montmorency fought like a lion. "Gare, gare, reculez-vous!" he cried to those who endeavoured to restrain him. Having been severely wounded, however, he was obliged to surrender.

(7) Commentaires.

(8) Over the gates of Calais had once stood the following boastful inscription:

"Then shall the Frenchman Calais win

When iron and lead like cork shall swim,"

Chapter XXV

The Guises turn the duke's brilliant military success to political account by hastening the marriage of their niece to the Dauphin — Madame de Valentinois, alarmed by the increasing power of her former protégés, resolves to redress the balance by an alliance with the captive Constable, and attempts, though without success, to delay the affair — Marriage of the Dauphin and Mary Stuart — Banquet and festivities at the Palais de Justice — Secret treaty signed by Mary Stuart at Fontainebleau — Unbearable arrogance of the Guises — Denunciation of the heresy of Andelot by the Cardinal de Lorraine — Henri II, irritated by the insolence of the Guises, desires peace and the return of the Constable — His letters to Montmorency — Guise takes Thionville — Disastrous defeat of Termes at Gravelines — Henri II and Philip II join their respective armies — A suspension of arms is agreed to, and negotiations for peace are begun at the Abbey of Cercamp — Interview between the King and the Constable at Beauvais — The Spanish plenipotentiaries demand the evacuation of Italy by the French — And, notwithstanding the desperate financial straits of Philip II, their demands are conceded — Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis — Indignation in France — Results of the treaty considered

GUISE'S brilliant campaign, which in a few days had effaced two centuries of humiliating recollections, made him a national and popular hero. He and his brother, the Cardinal de Lorraine, were not slow to turn the former's military successes to political account, and hurried on the marriage of the Dauphin to the little Queen of Scotland, by which they hoped to render their already immensely strong position altogether impregnable.

They had to encounter some opposition. The Queen pleaded the extreme youth and delicate health of her son, while Diane also wished to delay the marriage. The course of events during the last few months had caused that lady to reconsider her position very seriously. Until the summer of 1557 her policy of supporting the Guises against the Montmorency party had answered admirably, at least so far as she herself was concerned. For the Constable, backed by the Princes of the Blood and the great majority of the nobility, and enjoying the affection and confidence of the King, was still too strong for the Guises; and Diane's assistance was therefore indispensable to the latter. Thus, she had established the equilibrium between the contending factions and dominated the situation.

But Saint-Quentin and Calais had changed all that. The Constable was a prisoner, his party discredited; while the praises of the Guises were in every mouth. Her former protégés now considered themselves strong enough to dispense with her support; they no longer consulted her; they no longer treated her with their customary deference. Diane, indignant at their ingratitude, resolved to show them their mistake, and to restore the equilibrium by an alliance with the captive Constable. However, neither she nor the Queen was able to delay the marriage, for Henri II not only felt himself under great obligations to the Guises, but "he desired to avail himself more surely of the forces of Scotland against the kingdom of England next year";[01] and the happy event was fixed for April 24, 1558.

On the 19th, the betrothal took place in the great hall of the new Louvre, and the bridegroom of fourteen and the bride of fifteen plighted their troth and exchanged a ring. A ball followed, which the King opened with the Queen of Scotland.

MARY STUART AS DAUPHINE OF FRANCE

FROM THE DRAWING BY FRANÇOIS CLOUET IN THE BIBLIOTHÈQUE SAINTE-GENEVIÈVE

On the following Sunday, the marriage was celebrated at Notre-Dame, with a magnificence which must have entailed very serious inroads on the loan which had been extracted from the Notables in the flush of their enthusiasm over the taking of Calais. A long gallery was erected from the palace of the Bishop of Paris (Eustache du Bellay), where the bridal party had spent the night, to the west door of Notre-Dame, the porch of which was hung with red tapestries adorned with fleurs-de-lis.

Early in the morning, the members of the Parlement of Paris and the municipal authorities assembled at the Palais de Justice and the Hôtel de Ville respectively, and repaired in procession to the cathedral, where they took the places reserved for them on the right and left of the chancel, the scarlet robes of the magistrates and the crimson and yellow of the civic dignitaries making a wonderfully striking effect. About ten o'clock, François de Guise, who replaced the captive Montmorency in his functions of Grand-Master of the King's Household, arrived, accompanied by an imposing suite, to see that everything was in order, and "showed himself a kind prince" towards the populace, by making a number of nobles and gentlemen who had congregated on the scaffolding descend and enter the church, so that the humbler spectators might enjoy an uninterrupted view of the pageant. Following him came a multitude of musicians, with "trumpets, clarions, hautboys, flageolets, viols, violins, citherns, and an infinitude of other instruments, playing so melodiously that it was very delightful to listen to them." Soon the bridal procession was seen approaching. One hundred gentlemen of the King's Household led the way; then the Princes of the Blood, "so richly clothed and adorned that it was marvellous to see them"; the cardinals, archbishops, bishops, and abbots; the Papal Legate, the Cardinal Trivulzio; the Dauphin, escorted by the Ducs d'Orléans and d'Angoulême, his brothers, and Antoine de Bourbon, King of Navarre; the Queen of Scotland, with Henri II holding her right hand and the Duke of Lorraine her left; while Catherine de' Medici, Jeanne d'Albret, Queen of Navarre, the princesses, and all the ladies of the Court followed, "so nobly accoutred that it would be impossible to write of it without too much prolixity."

The bride was clad "in a robe white as the lily, fashioned so sumptuously and richly that it would be impossible to describe it. The train, which was of marvellous length, was borne by two young demoiselles. Around her neck there hung a circlet of untold value, formed of jewels of great price, and on her head she wore a golden crown studded with pearls, diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and other gems of priceless value, the most remarkable of all being a carbuncle set in the middle, which was valued at five hundred thousand écus or more."

The Bishop of Paris received the King and the bridal pair in the porch of the cathedral, and delivered "a learned and elegant oration." Then his Majesty drew from his finger a gold ring and handed it to the Cardinal de Bourbon, who was to perform the ceremony; and the bridal party entered the church, while the heralds cried "Largesse!" three times, and threw gold and silver among the crowd. A frenzied struggle ensued, the people scrambling for the money "with such tumult, cries, and clamour that thunder could not have been heard above the din; some fainted, others lost their cloaks, others their hats and divers garments, so that the people cried to the heralds to throw nothing more, by reason of the said tumult."

To the accompaniment of all this uproar, the Cardinal de Bourbon pronounced the words which made François de Valois and Mary Stuart one, and the Bishop of Paris celebrated Mass. During the offertory, the heralds repeated in the nave the largesse which had led to such a commotion at the doors, and the pages and gentlemen of the Court contended for the money as eagerly as the mob. At the conclusion of the service, the bridal pair returned to the episcopal palace, where a grand banquet took place, followed by a ball, "the Most Christian King dancing with the Queen-Dauphine and the King-Dauphin[02] with the Queen."

The ball only lasted until a little after four o'clock, when the whole company crossed the Seine to the Palais de Justice, for the festivities which were to conclude the day. The King and the princes rode on war-horses splendidly caparisoned in cloth of gold and silver; the Queen and Mary Stuart were carried in a litter; the princesses were in coaches, and the ladies of the Court on palfreys with trappings of crimson velvet.

In the great hall of the Palais de Justice, "so magnificently decorated that one might have compared it to the Elysian Fields," supper was served to the Court and the members of the Parlement and the civic authorities at tables of white marble, each course being presented to the sound of music. Every one present, the chronicler assures us, was transported with delight, and "the dames and demoiselles leaped in the air for joy."

The supper was followed by a ball, and the ball by "masques, mummeries, ballads, and other games and pastimes." The seven planets presented themselves — Mercury, with golden girdle, spreading wings and caduceus, Mars in armour, and so forth; the young princes and the children of Guise and Aumale entered mounted on hobbyhorses, both riders and mimic steeds being resplendent in cloth of gold, and pilgrims in silver tissue and jewels "sang sweet hymns and psalms in praise of marriage and the married pair." Finally, a fleet of ships with silver sails appeared, sometimes rocking as in harbour, sometimes gliding forward as on the open sea. Each of the princes embarked in one of these vessels and "sailed away" to the table at which the ladies of the Court sat, where he selected a shipmate. The King chose Mary Stuart; the Dauphin, his mother; the Prince de Condé, the Duchesse de Guise; while the Duke of Lorraine carried off Madame Claude, whom he was to marry later.

The evening concluded with other "fantasies, melodies, and recreations," during one of which Ronsard read an épître to the King which he had composed in honour of the marriage. It concluded as follows:

"Sire, tu as, ainsi comme il me semble,

Seul plus d'honneur que tous les Roys ensemble;

De ton vivant tu vois ainsi que toy

Ton fils aisné en sa jeunesse Roy,

Qui pour ta bru t'a donné la plus belle

Royne qui vive, et fust-ce une immortelle,

Et qui peut estre aura dessus le chef

Une couronne encore de rechef

Pour joindre ensemble à la terre Escossoise

L'honneur voisin de la couronne Angloise."[03]

The festivities were continued at the Louvre for several days, and "were considered the most regal and triumphant that had been witnessed in the kingdom for many years."[04]

The marriage of the Dauphin and Mary Stuart was an even greater triumph for the Guises than was generally believed, for at Fontainebleau, on April 4 — fifteen days before the signing of the marriage-contract, in which the Queen and her young husband swore to maintain the laws, independence, and liberties of Scotland — they had persuaded her to sign a secret treaty, by which she transferred to the King of France, in the event of her death without children, the kingdom of Scotland and all rights to the Crown of England, until a million gold crowns had been paid him as an indemnity for the sum expended by France in the defence of the country. How far Mary was culpable is a point which has been much disputed; but the probability is that she signed the documents which were laid before her without fully realising their importance.

For the moment, the Guises appeared all-powerful. But their success rendered them unbearably arrogant, and they abused their credit with the King. The duke, as we have mentioned, had discharged Montmorency's functions of Grand-Master at the royal wedding, and his vicarious importance on that occasion had so flattered his vanity that, shortly afterwards, he begged the King to confer this exalted office upon him definitely, as the reward of his military services. The King, dissembling with difficulty his indignation at being asked to despoil his oldest friend — at a moment, too, when the latter was suffering for his devotion to his master's service — declined; whereupon Guise asked for the reversion of the post, which, as he was probably well aware, his Majesty had already accorded to his son-in-law, François de Montmorency. This was also refused.

Another incident, which happened a little later, served to increase the King's irritation against the Guises.

The Constable's nephew Andelot, who had been taken prisoner with his brother Coligny at Saint-Quentin and imprisoned in the citadel of Milan, had recently been ransomed by his relatives and had returned to France. His captivity had afforded him ample leisure for study, with the consequence that he had embraced the Reformed faith. The Cardinal de Lorraine, happening to learn of this from a Spanish source, immediately denounced Andelot's heresy to the King, who sent for the new convert and questioned him on the matter. Andelot courageously admitted the truth of the accusation, whereupon Henri II deprived him of his post of Colonel-General of Infantry, which he gave to Montluc, and caused him to be imprisoned at Meaux. The King was, however, far more angry with the cardinal, who, under the pretext of religious zeal, had compelled him to disgrace a near relative of the Constable.

Soon Henri II, chafing beneath the insolence of the Guises, and yet fearful of offending them, since the political abilities of the cardinal were as necessary to him in the present crisis as were the military talents of the duke, began to long for peace and the return of Montmorency. Madame de Valentinois did everything in her power to stimulate this desire, for the return of the Constable could alone re-establish the equilibrium between the rival factions on which her own importance so largely depended; and, as a proof of her friendly intentions towards Montmorency, she wrote him the most cordial letters and proposed a marriage between her grand-daughter, Gabrielle de la Marck, and his second son Damville. At her instigation, the Duc de Nevers, a friend of the Montmorencies, placed himself at the head of the Constable's party, which found a supporter in the Queen, whom the Guises had also contrived to offend. As for the King, he wrote letter after letter to the captive, urging him to fix his ransom and pave the way for peace. "I shall die happy," he writes, in the hyperbolical style of the time, "if I can see a good peace and the man whom I love and esteem more than any other in the world. And, since this is so, do not fear to fix your ransom at any price, however high." And again: "Do what you can to procure us peace. . . . The greatest pleasure that I can have is to have a good peace and to see you at liberty."[05] The King's orders coincided too closely with the Constable's own interests for him to neglect them, and from the month of July several unofficial pour-parlers took place between him and his fellow-prisoner Saint-André, on the one side, and the Prince of Orange, Egmont, Granvelle, and Ruy Gomez, on the other.

Meanwhile hostilities had been resumed. François de Guise, with a force composed of the garrisons of the Three Bishoprics and some troops levied in Germany, operated on the Moselle and took Thionville, which the enemy had reckoned impregnable (June 22); while another corps under Paul de Termes, who had been appointed governor of Calais, crossed the Aa below Gravelines, took Mardyck and Dunkerque, and ruthlessly wasted all the Flemish coast up to Nieuport. It had been arranged that Guise should join Termes after Thionville had fallen, but a mutiny among his landsknechts delayed the duke; and Termes, not receiving any news from him, was retreating, laden with booty, when he learned that a force much superior to his own, which had been hastily raised by Comte d'Egmont, the governor of Flanders, lay at Gravelines, barring his way.

Termes had no alternative but to force a passage along the sands, between the town of Gravelines and the sea, and at low water on July 13 he made the attempt.

The French fought splendidly, and, notwithstanding their inferiority in numbers, and the fact that the cannon of the town played unceasingly on their left flank, would probably have succeeded in cutting their way through. But, at the crisis of the battle, ten English ships, which had been cruising in the neighbourhood of Calais, hove in sight, attracted by the sound of firing, and, standing close in shore, discharged their broad-sides into Termes's right flank. Caught thus between two fires, the French gave way, and a furious charge by Egmont, at the head of his cavalry, changed the retreat into a rout. Termes himself and most of his officers were taken prisoners, while the soldiers were ruthlessly massacred by the Flemings, furious at the devastation of their country. Altogether, some five thousand men — nearly one-half of the army — are said to have fallen.

If the fleet to which the squadron which had intervened so successfully at Gravelines belonged, and which numbered some two hundred and forty vessels, large and small, had been at hand to take advantage of this victory, Calais would have been recovered more easily than it had been lost. But it was loitering at Spithead, and effected absolutely nothing beyond an ineffective descent upon the Breton coast.

On learning of the disaster which had befallen Termes, Guise hurriedly repassed the frontier and collected all the French forces at La Fère. The Duke of Savoy, with the Spanish Grand Army, which had now assembled, established himself on the Authie; the two kings joined their respective camps, and a great battle seemed imminent. But both Henri II and Philip II wanted peace, not war. The conquests of the former had been counterbalanced by the victories of the latter; the Pope, the author of their quarrel, had withdrawn from the fray; they were anxious to have their hands free to deal with the religious question in France and the Netherlands; Henri II ardently desired the return of the Constable to free him from the despotism of the Guises, while Philip was in desperate financial straits.

And so a suspension of arms was agreed to, and was followed, in the middle of October, by a congress at the Abbey of Cercamp, in the Cambrésis, under the mediation of Christina of Denmark, Duchess-dowager of Lorraine, the two distinguished prisoners, released on parole, being among the French plenipotentiaries. Just before the congress met, the Constable received permission to visit his master at Beauvais. The King received him as though he had won and not lost the battle of Saint-Quentin, never loosed his hand during the whole of their public interview, and ordered a bed to be prepared for him in the wardrobe adjoining his own chamber.

After this short meeting, the King more than ever deplored the absence of his old friend, and wrote him the most touching letters, in one of which he declared that "his heart was so sad that he could not tell him anything, except to assure him that he was the person in the world whom he loved the most"; while in another he informed him that "he had brought him all the ease and the contentment that he had ever had, and that he had no hope of recovering it until he saw him definitely at liberty." It was certainly a politic move on the part of Montmorency's captors to authorise the interview at Beauvais.

Although neither France nor Spain could boast any very decisive advantage over the other, the Spanish plenipotentiaries, aware of the private interests involved on the French side, insisted on the evacuation of Savoy and Piedmont, which were to be given back to Emmanuel Philibert, the restoration of all other conquests made by France in Italy, and the renunciation of Henri II's claims to the Milanese and Naples. And to these demands they continued to adhere, even after the death of Mary (November 16, 1558), and Elizabeth's refusal of Philip II's hand, had deprived Spain of all hope of English assistance in the event of the negotiations being broken off.

Nevertheless, the Spaniards had not the remotest intention of provoking a renewal of hostilities, for their resources were so exhausted that to continue the war was absolutely out of the question; and even while his plenipotentiaries were arrogantly pressing their demands, and threatening a recourse to arms unless they were conceded, Philip II was writing to Granvelle as follows:

"I have already expended one million two hundred thousand ducats that I have drawn from Spain. . . . I shall have need of another million from here next March. Spain can do nothing further for me. It appears to me that I must come to an arrangement of some kind, or I am lost. . . . On no account are the negotiations to be broken off."[06]

However, thanks to the feverish impatience of Henri II for the release of the Constable and Madame de Valentinois's jealousy of the Guises, the Spaniards obtained nearly all they demanded; and on April 3, 1559, at Cateau-Cambrésis, whither the negotiations had been transferred at the beginning of February, France "surrendered by a single stroke of the pen all the Italian conquests of thirty years,"[07] with the exception of the little marquisate of Saluzzo. To be more precise, Henri II restored to the Duke of Savoy, Bresse, Bugey, Valromey, Savoy, and Piedmont, annexed by François I in 1536, retaining, however, garrisons in Turin, Chieri, Pinerolo, Chivasso, and Villanuova dAsti, until his pretensions as heir of his grandmother, Louise of Savoy, had been adjudicated upon by arbitrators, such adjudication to be made within three years. Valenza, in Lombardy, was restored to Spain; Montferrato, with Casale, to the Duke of Mantua; Montalcino to Cosimo de' Medici; and Corsica to Genoa. In all, close upon two hundred towns and fortresses were surrendered. The two monarchs agreed to restore reciprocally their conquests in the Netherlands and Picardy.

The question of the restitution of the Three Bishoprics was reserved, which meant that, though France's right to them was not formally acknowledged, she was to be left in peaceable possession. As a pledge of future amity, Philip II was to marry Henri II's eldest daughter, Madame Élisabeth, and the Duke of Savoy that rather mature bas-bleu Madame Marguerite. The former princess was to receive a dowry of 400,000 écus; the latter one of 300,000. Finally, the Duke of Lorraine, who had married Madame Claude in January 1559, was to receive Stenay, and France to evacuate the duchy. The thorny question of Calais, which had been much simplified by the demise of Mary and her successor's refusal of Philip II's hand, was settled by a separate peace between England and France, signed on the preceding day. Calais and the adjoining fortresses were to be left in the hands of France, to be restored in eight years. If they were not restored, France was to pay the sum of 500,000 écus. If England committed any aggression against either France or Scotland, she forfeited all right to restitution or recompense. Peace between England and Scotland was made on the same day.

When the terms of the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis were made known in France, there was a violent outcry against it, which grew louder as the return of the French garrisons from Piedmont, Savoy, Luxembourg, and Flanders enabled people to realise the magnitude of the surrender. François de Guise told the King that he had lost more in a single day than twenty years of continuous reverses could have wrested from him, and his opinion was shared by the whole army, even by those who, like Brissac and Vieilleville, disliked him heartily. The treaty was named the "Prisoners' Peace," and the enemies of Montmorency accused him of having sacrificed the interests of the King and of France to his desire of recovering his liberty; while some even went so far as to assert that the Duke of Savoy, to whom he had surrendered at Saint-Quentin, had accepted a nominal ransom, in consideration of the concessions which his captive had procured for him.

The Constable did not altogether deserve these reproaches. In consenting to the demands of the Spaniards he was merely the too complaisant agent of the King, whose dread of the increasing power of the Guises was continually stimulated by Diane de Poitiers, until he had become perhaps more impatient for the release of Montmorency than was the prisoner himself.[08]

"My friend," he writes to him, "I assure you that M. de Guyse does not desire peace, warning me that I have more means for carrying on the war than I ever had, and that I should not lose so much if I make war as I should if you come to an arrangement. . . . Do what you can to procure us peace; and do not show this letter to any one save the Maréchal de Saint-André, and burn it afterwards. The person whom I name in my letter [Guise] has said to some one here that, so long as the war lasts, not one of you will ever come out of prison. As for this, think of it as a matter which concerns you."[09]

The Constable did think of it, and he must share with the King and Diane the responsibility for the treaty; but these two, and not Montmorency, were its principal authors.

As for the ransom, the Duke of Savoy did certainly reduce it from 300,000 écus, the price which he had at first demanded, to 200,000 écus; but even that was an enormous sum. Therefore, the Constable can scarcely be accused of having sold Savoy and Piedmont.

But was Cateau-Cambrésis really the "base and damaging peace"[10] which contemporary writers declare it with one voice to have been? Almost all modern historians seem to be of their opinion; Sismondi, Michelet, Henri Martin — to cite only a few names — are as emphatic in their condemnation as De Thou, Tavannes, Brantôme, and Montluc. But there are one or two notable exceptions. That very high authority on the sixteenth century, M. Alphonse de Ruble, has consecrated to the defence of this much-abused treaty an erudite monograph, in which he declares it to have been "the greatest benefit which Henri II left to his people." And here is the substance of his argument:

Henri II retained almost all the useful conquests of his reign: Calais, which had served as the rallying port for all the English invasions during two centuries, Metz, Toul, and Verdun, advanced posts of the Empire, which had threatened Champagne. "The recovery of Calais, the conquest of Metz, Toul, and Verdun, the consecration of the autonomy of Lorraine and Alsace, assured our natural limits. The ensemble of these successes gave to the realm of the Valois a cohesive force which no other country has been able to attain, even in our time. France had proof of this during the Wars of Religion, when, though rent within and betrayed without by pitiless factions, her integrity was never seriously threatened by any foreign Power." As for the renunciation of her Italian ambitions, she lost nothing thereby, but was a distinct gainer, for Italy, since the time of Charles VIII, had been a veritable quicksand, swallowing up French lives and treasure.[11]

There is a great deal of force in what M. de Ruble says, and there can be no doubt that Henri II has been hardly dealt with both by his contemporaries and historians in this matter. But the writer has overlooked the radical defect of the treaty; it did not, as he asserts, assure the natural frontiers of France. Let us listen to M. Lemonnier:

"As to the treaty in itself, it offered the advantage of giving us Metz, Toul, Verdun, and Calais, undoubtedly valuable acquisitions, and of restoring to us certain places lost in the north-east during the course of the war. In forcing us formally to renounce Italy, it rather served our true interests; but the great fault, almost irremediable, of the contract, was in the abandonment, if not of Piedmont, at least of Savoy, Bresse, and Bugey. The conquests made in the north hardly compensated for this loss, which retarded for more than a century the annexation of the Franche-Comté."[12]

Further, M. de Ruble does not appear to us sufficiently to appreciate the moral effect of the treaty of which he has constituted himself the apologist. France made great concessions to Philip II, and the compensation which she received was not at the expense of Spain, but of England and the Emperor. In the eyes of Europe, she lost from that moment her claims to rank as the equal of Spain; and Philip II, although deprived of the Empire by his uncle, and of England by the death of Mary Tudor, was regarded as the arbiter of European affairs.

Notes

(1) Soranzo, in Armand Baschet.

(2) The title "King of Scotland" was allowed to the Dauphin under the marriage-contract.

(3) "Discours du grand et magnifique triumphe fait au mariage de très noble . . . François de Valois avec Marie d'Estreuart, royne d'Ecosse," in Archives curieuses; Ruble, la Première Jeunesse de Marie Stuart.

(4) Soranzo, in Armand Baschet.

(5) F. Decrue, Anne, duc de Montmorency.

(6) Letter of February 12, 1559, Papiers d'État de Granvelle, vol. v.

(7) Pasquier, Lettres inédites.

(8) Guiffrey, Lettres inédites de Dianne de Poytiers.

(9) Lavisse, Histoire de France.

(10) De Thou.

(11) Le Traité de Cateau-Cambrésis (Paris, 1889).

(12) Lavisse, Histoire de France.

Chapter XXVI

The Peace of Cateau-Cambrésis followed by a fresh outburst of persecution against the Protestants in France and the Netherlands — Retrospect of the measures adopted by Henri II for the repression of heresy: the Edict of Chateaubriand, the introduction of the Inquisition, and the Edict of Compiègne — Rapid spread of the Reformed doctrines in France — Disinclination of the Parlement of Paris to co-operate with the Government in the persecution — The King attends the mercuriale of June 10, 1559; — Bold speeches of Anne du Bourg and Louis du Faur — Henri II orders the arrest of the two counsellors and of three others — Fate of Du Bourg — Preparations for the Treaty marriages — Marriage of Philip II, represented by Alva, and Madame Élisabeth — The tournament of the Rue Saint-Antoine — Henri II mortally wounded in the eye by a splinter from the lance of Montgomery, captain of the Scottish Guard — His illness and death — His funeral — Disgrace of Diane de Poitiers — Her last years — Desecration of her tomb at Anet in 1795 — A singular discovery — Fate of the château — Fall of Montmorency — Subsequent career of Montgomery.

IT was very generally believed among the Protestants that the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis contained other articles besides those which were made public, by which Henri II and Philip II bound themselves to use every means in their power to extirpate heresy in their respective dominions. Although no proof has been discovered of the existence of such clauses, that some understanding of the kind was arrived at cannot be doubted, as the treaty was immediately followed by a fresh outburst of persecution both in France and the Netherlands.

Since the establishment of the "Chambre ardente" at the beginning of Henri II's reign, several attempts had been made to check the spread of the Reformed doctrines. In 1551, the Edict of Chateaubriand took away all right of appeal from those convicted of heresy. Six years later, urged on by the Cardinal de Lorraine and solicited by Paul IV, at the moment when the alliance with the Papacy against Philip II was being negotiated, Henri II resolved to establish in his kingdom an Inquisition on the Spanish model. "I have already decided," he wrote to Selve, his Ambassador at Rome, "in accordance with the persuasions and advice that the Cardinal Caraffa has given me on the part of our Holy Father, to introduce here [into France] the Inquisition, according to legal form, as the true means of extirpating the root of such errors." The opposition of the Parlement of Paris, however, which if it desired to punish heretics, did not intend to abandon the subjects of the King to the arbitrariness of episcopal officials, compelled him to suspend the execution of this project; and when, in February, 1557, he obtained from the Pope a Bull investing the French cardinals with inquisitorial powers, with the right of delegating them to other ecclesiastics, the Parlement refused to ratify the royal edict approving it.

Nevertheless, in April, three Grand Inquisitors were nominated: the Cardinals de Bourbon, de Lorraine, and de Chatillon;[01] and in January, 1558 the King, whose zeal against the Calvinists had been stimulated by the million écus granted him by the clergy at the assembly of the Notables, imposed the edict, on the unwilling Parlement, in a Bed of Justice. But the surrender of the magistrates was more apparent than real, since they continued to receive appeals against the judgments of the ecclesiastical tribunals.

In the meanwhile, the King had strengthened the lay jurisdiction and armed it pitilessly by the Edict of Compiègne, which denounced the penalty of death against all who in public or private professed any heterodox doctrine and took away from the judges the power of imposing a lesser punishment.

The prisons, and especially the prisons of Paris — the sombre, damp Conciergerie, below the level of the Seine, the frowning Bastille, the unhealthy Grand Châtelet, where in a single year sixty hapless captives were carried off by pestilence — were crowded with suspects. Numbers were condemned to death and perished horribly, hung in chains, as a rule, to roast over a slow fire; some having their tongues cut out before being led to execution, lest the psalms they sang and the prayers they offered up for their persecutors from the midst of the flames might excite the compassion of the spectators.

But the blood of the martyrs fertilised the soil of France, and the harvest was an abundant one. In 1555, the Church of Paris was founded by a gentleman residing in the Pré-aux-Clercs, and during the next four years the Reformed churches, although most numerous on the banks of the Loire and in the south-western districts, spread over almost the whole country. In May 1557, the first national synod, composed of delegates from all the churches in France, was held in Paris, when a confession of faith was drawn up and the ecclesiastical discipline regulated on the model of Geneva. In 1558, Calvin computed the number of his followers in France at 300,000; other authorities place them at a much higher figure. Many thousands more had emigrated to Geneva and to more tolerant lands, so that "the King lost not only the souls of his subjects, but the money which they carried away into the bargain."[02]

If the lowly, as Coligny said, had been the first to show the way of salvation to the rich and powerful, the upper classes had not failed to follow. In 1558, as we have seen, Andelot had confessed to the King that he had embraced the new doctrines, and his views were either known, or believed, to be shared by his two brothers, the Admiral and the cardinal, by Antoine de Bourbon, King of Navarre, by his wife, Jean d'Albret, by the Prince de Condé, and by many other prominent persons. The strength, however, of the Reformers lay among the trading and the professional classes and the country gentry.

Fierce as had been the persecution since Henri II ascended the throne, it had not been by any means continuous, for the complaints of his allies, the Lutheran princes, and of the Protestant cantons of Switzerland, whence he drew his most valuable mercenaries, were constantly arresting the King in his crusade against heresy; and there were moments, like those which followed the disaster at Saint-Quentin, when every man, whatever his creed, was needed for the defence of the kingdom. But after the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis his hands were free, and he and his advisers were resolved that there should be no respite until the accursed thing was rooted out of the land. For the Constable, the Guises, and Madame de Valentinois were at one in their hatred of the Reformed faith, though Montmorency took care to protect his own relatives, and almost his first act on returning to France was to procure the release and pardon of Andelot.

All through Lent the Paris pulpits resounded with denunciations of the heretics and of those who protected them, and soon the persecution was in full swing once more. But in the capital it did not proceed at all in accordance with the wishes of the Government. The Grande Chambre of the Parlement, from which the members of the "Chambre ardente" had been drawn, was composed of extreme Catholics, but the members of the other courts were more moderate in their views, while not a few of them were Huguenots, secret or professed. The Parlement had, as we have seen, courageously resisted the creation of the Inquisition, and the King had been compelled to have recourse to a Bed of Justice in order to procure its acceptance; and it now showed what his Majesty considered the most reprehensible leniency towards the heretics who were brought before it.

The Parlement was accustomed, all the chambers united, to deliberate occasionally on general measures and to censure, if necessary, the conduct of its members. In one of these sittings, called mercuriales, in the spring of 1559, the subject of the prosecutions for heresy was discussed. The opinion of the majority was in favour of toleration, and the violence of the members of the Grande Chambre was condemned by the other courts.

The King, informed of this, demanded to inspect the register of the mercuriales, in order that he might ascertain who were the leaders of the party of tolerance. This was refused, but the First President, Le Maistré, and two presidents of the Grande Chambre betrayed the liberal councillors and gave their names to the Cardinal de Lorraine.

The cardinal exhorted Henri II "to prove to the King of Spain his firmness in the faith," and it was decided to read the Parlement a severe lesson.

On June 10, 1559, all the chambers of the Parlement were assembled at the Couvent des Grands-Augustins — the Palais de Justice was being prepared for the festivities which were to celebrate the Treaty marriages — when the doors were thrown open, and the King appeared, followed by the Duc de Guise, the Cardinal de Lorraine, the Cardinal de Sens, Keeper of the Seals, the Constable, the Duc de Montpensier, the Prince de le Roche-sur-Yon, and many other notables. The English Ambassador, Nicholas Throckmorton, writing to Queen Elizabeth three days later, reported that there were a hundred and twenty counsellors and presidents present, and that "the Cardinal of Lorraine earnestly inveighed against the Protestants, requesting execution to be made of them and confiscation of their goods."[03] But La Place states that the King himself spoke first, informing the magistrates that since God had granted him a stable peace, he felt it his duty to seek a remedy for the divisions of religion; and that the Keeper of the Seals then invited them to continue their discussion on the religious question in his Majesty's presence, and to speak frankly.

The magistrates spoke very frankly indeed, two of them, Anne du Bourg and Louis du Faur, being unpleasantly candid. "Du Bourg," writes Throckmorton, "declared that the cardinals of this realm had great revenues, and were so negligent of their charge that the flocks committed to their cures were not instructed. The cardinal (de Lorraine) was so dashed that he stood still and replied not; the King likewise was offended, and the Constable (with these words: 'Vous faictez la bravade') asked them how they durst say so to the King. They answered that, being admitted Councillors of the Court, they must discharge their conscience, the rather as the King was present; that the Reformation must not begin with the common sort, but must touch the greatest persons of the realm."[04]

According to La Place, the two counsellors went much further than this. Anne du Bourg began by thanking God that his Majesty was present at the decision of a matter which concerned the cause of our Saviour. "It is," he continued, "no light thing to condemn those who from the midst of the flames call upon the name of Jesus Christ. What! Crimes worthy of death — blasphemy, adultery, horrible debaucheries, perjuries — are committed day by day with impunity in the face of Heaven, while day by day new tortures are devised for men whose only crime is that by the light of the Scriptures they have discovered the corruptions of the Church of Rome!"  "Let us clearly understand," cried Du Faur, after a trenchant attack on the abuses of the Roman Church, "who they are that trouble the Church, lest it should be said, as Elijah cried to King Ahab, 'Who art thou that troublest Israel?'"[05]

Henri II was beside himself with indignation, and, so soon as the discussion terminated, he ordered the Constable to arrest Du Bourg and Du Faur, who were conducted to the Bastille under the escort of Gabriel de Montgomery, Seigneur de Lorges, Captain of the Scottish Guard.[06] Three other counsellors, who had also spoken against the persecution, though with more moderation than their colleagues, were subsequently arrested in their houses and likewise imprisoned. They and Du Faur were, however, soon released; but the King was violently incensed against Du Bourg, who had hinted pretty plainly at his relations with Madame de Valentinois, and ordered him to be brought to trial, vowing that he would see him burn with his own eyes, although, after the terrible scene of which we have spoken in an earlier chapter, he had sworn never again to be present at an execution. From Écouen, whither he proceeded on a visit to the Constable, he launched a new edict against the Protestants, and, at the instigation of the Guises, even issued orders for the arrest of the Earl of Arran, son of the Duke of Châtellerault-Hamilton, although he passed as a candidate for the hand of the Queen of England. Having received timely warning, however, Arran succeeded in escaping from France.

Anne du Bourg was condemned to death, and, having been first strangled, was burned in the Place de Greve on December 23, 1559, exclaiming with his last breath, "Forsake me not, my God, lest I should forsake Thee!" But Henri II did not have the satisfaction of witnessing his martyrdom, since he had preceded him into Eternity by more than five months.

The marriage of Philip II and Madame Élisabeth had been fixed for June 22, 1559; that of Emmanuel Philibert of Savoy and Madame Marguerite for the following July 1. The Duke of Savoy was to espouse his bride in person; the King of Spain was to be represented by Alva. Henri II had resolved to do honour to his distinguished guests by a reception in every way worthy of them, and all through May and June immense preparations for the approaching festivities were in progress. "The King," writes Throckmorton, on June 6, "has borrowed 1,100,000 crowns to defray the setting out of these triumphs and for the entertaining of the princes which come hither." And four days later he writes: "The Duke of Alva and the other Spanish commissioners are looked for within four or five days. Great preparations are made for them at Chantilly and Equan [Écouen], two houses of the Constable. Here [Paris] the King himself, the Dauphin, and the nobles and gentry of the Court do daily assay themselves at the tilt, which is like to be very grand and sumptuous, with great triumph and solemnity."[07]

On June 16, Alva, accompanied by William of Nassau, Prince of Orange, the future deliverer of the Netherlands, Egmont, the hero of Gravelines, and a brilliant suite, arrived. They were received at Saint-Denis by the Cardinal de Lorraine, at the gates of Paris by the foreign princes, and at Chantilly by the King himself. Fête succeeded fête, and every day there were tournaments and jousts, in which the princes distinguished themselves. The Court was lodged at the Hôtel des Tournelles, situated on what is now the Place des Vosges, where mad Charles VI had played cards, and where Bedford had lorded it as Regent for Henry VI of England; and it was in front of the palace, in the widest part of the Rue Saint-Antoine, that the lists had been constructed,[08] with galleries at either end for the accommodation of the spectators.

On the 18th, a thanksgiving service for the ratification of the Peace was celebrated at Notre-Dame and was followed by several banquets, one at the Palais de Justice for the princes, another at the Constable's hotel, and a third at the residence of François de Montmorency. On the 21st, the betrothal of Philip II and Madame Élisabeth took place in the great hall of the Louvre, and on the following day the nuptial ceremony was performed at Notre-Dame with a magnificence similar to that which had marked the marriage of the Dauphin and Mary Stuart the previous year. Afterwards, there was a grand banquet at the Palais de Justice, the harmony of which was, however, somewhat marred by the maladroitness of François de Montmorency, who, filling for the nonce his father's place as Grand-Master, had failed to reserve places for several of those who had been invited.

After the marriage of Madame Élisabeth, the Court occupied itself with that of her aunt, Madame Marguerite. The Duke of Savoy arrived on the 21st, accompanied by one hundred and fifty gentlemen "dressed in doublets of red satin, crimson shoes, and cloaks of black velvet embroidered with gold lace." The contract was signed on the 27th, and was followed by a three days' tournament — the last which was to be ever held at the Court of France.

On the third day, the 30th, the King himself entered the lists, accompanied by François de Guise, Alfonso d'Este, Prince of Ferrara, and the Duc de Nemours, who announced that they were prepared to hold them against all comers. Henri II wore the colours of Diane de Poitiers — black and white — and rode a horse belonging to the Duke of Savoy, who did not himself take any part in the tournament, much less tilt against the King, as the Mémoires de Vieilleville and the historians who have followed them state, but watched the proceedings from the gallery in which the Queen, his bride-elect, and the ladies of the Court were sitting.

Among the many contemporary accounts of that fatal day, the most circumstantial are those contained in two letters; one written by the English Ambassador, Throckmorton, to the Council; the other by Antoine Caraccioli, Bishop of Troyes, to Corneille Musse, Bishop of Bitonto. Both Throckmorton and Caraccioli were present at the tournament, and wrote while the events which they described were fresh in their minds; indeed, the former wrote the same evening,[09] and the bishop only a fortnight later. Since the latter's account is very little known,[10] and is the most detailed, we propose to give it in his own words:

"The jousting lasted for some time. The King, having performed very excellently and exhibited his prowess, being mounted on a horse belonging to the Duke of Savoy (who did not don his armour, as he stayed on the scaffolding with the ladies to watch the King), sent a gentleman to the Duke to tell him that this good horse of his had assisted him to strike these fine blows with the lance. The Duke replied that he was very delighted that his horse had been of service to the King, and begged him, as did also the Queen and the ladies, and the nobles who accompanied them, not to exert himself further that day, as the victory was his, the hour late, the weather extremely hot, and the tournament concluded. The gentleman departed to convey his message to the King, whom he found ready to run another course, and who had made them give him a fresh lance, although several princes, particularly he of Ferrara, begged him to joust no more that day.[11] But his hour was come, and the more they entreated him the more obstinate he became, and opposed their wishes, swearing on the faith of a gentleman that he would break this one lance more. Then he commanded the Captain Lorges to come to him, a very valiant young noble, captain of the Scottish Guard, and, when the latter approached, ordered him to run against him. The gentleman excused himself, and begged the King not to command him. His Majesty became angry, and to such a degree that Lorges turned his bridle, took a lance, and tilted against the King. He struck the King on the gorget, a little below the visor; his lance flew into pieces, and the stump glanced upwards, and raised the visor,[12] into which a splinter entered and wounded the King above the right eye. So heavy and furious was the blow that the King inclined his head towards the lists, striving to recover his seat; turned towards the other side of the lists, and would have fallen, if the princes and gentlemen who were near him, on foot and on horseback, had not come to his aid.[13] They relieved him of his armour, and found him fainting, the splinter in the eye,[14] and his face covered with blood. They strove to revive him with fresh water, rosewater, and vinegar, but, though he recovered consciousness, before ever he got to his chamber he fainted twice.[15] The unhappy young Seigneur de Lorges, though he was as much wounded in his soul, by reason of the anguish which he suffered, as was the King in his body, because of his wound, when the King had recovered his senses for the first time, hastened to kneel before him, and, without making any excuse or imputing the guilt of this to the command of his Majesty, besought him to cut off his hand and his head. But the good-natured King, who for kindness had no equal in his time, answered kindly that he was not angry with him, and that he had nothing to pardon, since he had obeyed his King and carried himself like a brave knight and a valiant man-at-arms."

The gates of the Hôtel de Tournelles were closed and closely guarded as soon as the wounded monarch had been carried in. The servants of the nobility were ordered to remain at a distance, and of the many distinguished foreigners only the Dukes of Savoy and Alva and the Prince of Orange were permitted to enter. "There was marvellous great lamentation and weeping for him, both of men and women," writes Throckmorton. "Thus God makes Himself known, that in the very midst of these triumphs suffers such heaviness to happen."

The Court surgeons were speedily in attendance. They dressed the wound and extracted several small splinters of wood. They then purged the King with a potion of rhubarb and camomile, bled him, taking twelve ounces of blood, purged him again, applied refrigeratives, and gave him barley-gruel, the usual medicine of the feverish. The King sank into a profound stupor and did not give any sign of pain.[16] The Duke of Savoy, the Cardinal de Lorraine, the Constable, and François de Guise remained all night in the sick-room.

Next morning, Throckmorton wrote to his mistress that the King "had had a very evil rest, whereof there was great lamentation at Court." But the Constable, who wrote to Elizabeth during the night, gave a more favourable report: "The wound is very severe, but the first and second dressing give good hope that the result will be satisfactory, and that the worse that can happen will be the loss of the eye." Anne de Cossé expressed the same opinion, in a letter to the Maréchal de Brissac, written after the wound had been again dressed.

However, the King's condition showed no improvement. The surgeons began to fear that the blow had torn the pia-mater membrane which envelops the brain; and they experimented with the stump of Montgomery's lance on the heads of four criminals decapitated on the previous day, and then dissected their skulls, to endeavour to discover the anatomical secret of the wound. But their experiments, though very interesting to themselves, were of no use to their unfortunate patient, as they appear to have been unable to arrive at any definite conclusion.

The celebrated André Vesale, surgeon to Philip II, who had been despatched in all haste from Brussels by his royal master, arrived and took charge of the case, of which he subsequently wrote a learned relation in Latin. It was, however, far beyond the skill of the surgery of the sixteenth century; and while Vesale argued with his French colleagues on the nature of the injury, the King grew steadily worse.

On the fourth day, the royal patient fell into a violent fever, which baffled the efforts of the physicians. Carloix declares, however, that on the 8th he had an interval of consciousness, during which he sent for the Queen and bade her hurry on the marriage of his sister. He then made her sign Vieilleville's brevet of marshal, which he had intended to sign himself, and commended to her his kingdom and his children. No other contemporary mentions this scene, and, indeed, by this time the King must have been past talking to any one. However, whether by the King's directions or no, the marriage was celebrated at midnight in the little church of Saint-Paul, adjoining the Hôtel des Tournelles. Never was there a more lugubrious ceremony; those present looked as mournful as if they were attending a funeral, and Catherine, who sat alone under the royal daïs, was bathed in tears.

For all hope had now been abandoned, and Paris had changed from a city of joy and laughter into one of mourning. Throckmorton, however, reported that, though "the noblemen, gentlemen, and ladies did lament the misfortune, the townsmen and people did rejoice, and let not openly to say that the King's dissolute life and his tyranny to the professors of the Gospel had procured God's vengeance." We are inclined to think, however, that the Ambassador's religious prejudices had tempted him into exaggeration, and that such sentiments were confined to the Protestants, a very small proportion of the population. They, indeed, saw in the accident a judgment on their persecutor, for it had occurred close to the Bastille, where Du Bourg and the other magistrates arrested after the mercuriale of June 10 were confined, and the hand which had dealt the blow was that of Montgomery, the Captain of the Scottish Guard, who had been charged with the arrests.

On July 9, the parochial clergy of Paris organised a general procession for the King's recovery. The same day, the last Sacraments were administered.[17] During the night and the following forenoon, the sick man grew rapidly worse, and at one o'clock in the afternoon he expired. He had lived forty years, three months, and ten days, and had reigned twelve years, three months, and eleven days.

Over the body of the dead, a tapestry was thrown, on which was embroidered the Conversion of St. Paul, with these words: Saul, cur me persequeris? If we are to believe Theodore de Bèze, the Constable ordered it to be changed, from fear lest those present might see in it some allusion to the religious persecutions.

On July 12, Henri II's body was embalmed and placed in a leaden coffin. On the 18th, his heart was deposited at the Couvent des Célestins, in a beautiful urn supported by the three Graces, which Germain Pilon had made for its reception, and which is now in the Louvre. On the 29th, the effigy of the King was exposed in one of the halls of the Hôtel des Tournelles, where it remained until August 11, on which day the body was borne in solemn pomp to Notre-Dame, where the funeral service was celebrated.

Finally, on August 12, the mortal remains of the unfortunate monarch were transported to Saint-Denis, escorted by a great company of princes, prelates, ambassadors, nobles, and presidents and counsellors of the Parlement, and preceded by the four-and-twenty criers of Paris, "who, at all the cross-ways and customary places, sounded their hand-bells and cried: 'Pray God for the soul of the very high, very puissant, and very virtuous and magnanimous prince Henri, by the grace of God Very Christian King of France; in his life a warlike prince, lover of all the Estates, accomplished in benevolence, prompt and liberal; succour of the afflicted, full of valour and wisdom.'"[18]

The obsequies took place on the morrow, the Cardinal de Lorraine officiating. After the cardinal had pronounced the funeral oration, the coffin was lowered into the vault, whereupon Montmorency, according to usage, broke his bâton of Grand-Master and dropped the fragments into the grave, his example being followed by the other Court officials. Then the Roi d'armes, turning to either side, cried: "Le Roi est mart — Vive le roi François!" And, amid a fanfare of trumpets, the assemblage dispersed.

The reign of Diane de Poitiers terminated with that of her royal lover, but the precaution that she had taken to marry her elder daughter, Louise de Brézé, into the House of Lorraine, and her grand-daughter, Gabrielle de la Marck, into that of Montmorency, saved her from suffering too glaring a disgrace. She was, of course, ordered to retire from Court, as was her younger daughter, the Duchesse de Bouillon, widow of Robert de la Marck; but the only humiliation which Catherine inflicted upon her fallen rival consisted in demanding the restoration of the jewels which Henri II had given her,[19] and the surrender of the Château of Chenonceaux in return for that of Chaumont, which her Majesty purchased from the Barbezieux family for 120,000 livres.

But, if Chenonceaux were lost to her, Diane possessed in Anet an even more sumptuous residence, and, though such enormous sums from the Royal Treasury had gone to its construction and embellishment that it might almost be considered Crown property, it stood, fortunately for its owner, upon land which had belonged to the Brézé family for generations; and so Catherine was unable to lay claim to it. To her beautiful Norman home the fallen favourite withdrew to spend the short remainder of her life in complete retirement. Little is known of her last years, except that, like several of her predecessors and successors in the favour of kings, she appears to have been extremely generous to the poor. She died on April 25, 1566, in her sixty-seventh year, and was honoured by a magnificent funeral, all the gentry of the neighbourhood gathering to pay a last tribute of respect to the woman who for twelve years had been the virtual Queen of France. Brantôme, who saw her a few months before her death, assures us that she was then "aussi belle, aussi fraiche, aussi aimable comme en l'âge de trente ans"; but we fear that Brantôme's desire to please the duchess's daughters, to whom he very probably submitted this part of his manuscript, has prevailed over his regard for the truth.

By her will, Diane's immense estates were divided between her two daughters; Anet falling to the share of the Duchesse d'Aumale; Chaumont to that of the Duchesse de Bouillon. Large sums were left to various charitable institutions, including several homes for repentant women.

After the death of the Duchesse d'Aumale, Anet became the property of her son, Charles de Lorraine, one of the chiefs of the League, against whom the Parlement of Paris issued a decree condemning him to death and confiscating his estates. The decree ordered the demolition of the Château of Anet, but it was not carried out. Sold to Marie de Luxembourg, Duchesse de Mercœur, it passed, after her death, to her son- in-law, César de Vendôme, son of Henri IV by Gabrielle d'Estrées; then, in succession, to the Duchesse de Vendôme, the Princesse de Condé, the Duc and Duchesse du Maine, and their two sons, the Prince de Dombes and the Comte d'Eu. The latter sold it to Louis XV, though the sale was not to take effect until after the count's death. When that event occurred, Louis XV was no more; and his successor ceded the Château to the Duc de Penthièvre, who possessed it at the time of the Revolution. The duke was permitted to remain in undisturbed occupation until his death in March 1793, when Anet was declared national property.

On June 18, 1795, the Commissary of Public Safety for the Department of Eure-et-Loir and his assistant visited Anet, and gave orders for the destruction of Diane's tomb, since equality demanded that the dead should lie in earth common to all. The tomb was accordingly broken open, when a singular discovery was made, for by the side of the duchess, dressed like her in the splendid sepulchral garments and ornaments of the sixteenth century, and, like her, in a state of almost perfect preservation, lay the bodies of two little girls, between seven and nine years of age. The fact that these little girls were clothed in the fashion of the sixteenth century seems to preclude the possibility of their having been placed there at a later period, and some historians incline to the belief that they were the children of the duchess and Henri II. We are not, however, of their opinion. Diane lived far too much in the limelight for it to have been possible for her to conceal the birth of two children, and, if she had become a mother by the King, contemporary chroniclers would certainly have recorded it. It is more probable that the little girls had been adopted by her after her banishment from Court, to console the tedium of her declining years.

The bodies of Diane and the children were stripped bare and exposed to the brutal curiosity of the crowd which had gathered to witness the work of destruction, until some compassionate women covered them with strips of paper torn from the walls of a ruined house. Then, after the hair of the duchess had been cut off and distributed as a souvenir among the members of the local committee of surveillance, they were interred in a grave near the chapel.

In 1788, Anet was sold to the bankers Ramsden and Herigoyen, who, aware of the importance of their acquisition, seem to have intended to preserve it intact. Circumstances, however, obliged them to resell it, and it became the property of a M. Demonti. This personage, not content with disposing of the treasures which it contained, at once embarked upon a course of systematic destruction, selling the château itself piece by piece. Some débris was saved; through the efforts of the celebrated archæologist Alexandre Lenoir, including the Diane chasseresse, now in the Louvre, and the façade of the entrance, which now stands in the courtyard of the École des Beaux-Arts. Demonti continued his vandalism for some years, when, owing to the hostility of the inhabitants of the village, disgusted at the destruction of a monument which had brought so many wealthy connoisseurs into the neighbourhood, he decided to sell what remained of the château en bloc. The daughter of the Duc de Penthièvre became the purchaser, and sold it to Louis-Philippe, then Duc d'Orléans, who, however, soon parted with it. Subsequent owners, who include the Comte de Caraman and M. Moreau, a Paris banker, have attempted something in the way of restoration, but the work of mutilation had been carried too far for their efforts to produce much effect.

The Constable, who had shared with Diane de Poitiers the confidence and affection of Henri II, shared her disgrace, though in a modified form. The Guises, for the moment all-powerful, hated him and insisted on his dismissal; while he could look for no support from the Queen-Mother, who had several grievances against him, notably, his attachment to her husband's mistress in the early days of Diane's favour, and the fact that he was generally believed to have counselled the dissolution of her marriage in the time of François I.

When Montmorency waited upon the new King for the first time, his young Sovereign received him courteously and confirmed him in the possession of his estates and titles; but, repeating the words which his uncles, the Guises, had dictated to him, added that, having regard to the great age of the Constable, he had decided to confide the command of his armies to the Duc de Guise and the charge of his finances to the Cardinal de Lorraine. He would, however, willingly reserve an honourable place in his Council for his father's trusted friend, whenever his age permitted him to assist at its deliberations.

The Constable replied that he would not abuse this honour, and, having assured his Majesty that, if need should arise, he would find him not too old to spend his life and his goods in his service, retired, and, after the funeral of Henri II, quitted the Court and withdrew to Écouen. His disgrace, however, terminated with the brief reign of François II.

In conclusion, a few words must be said concerning the unhappy young Captain of the Scottish Guard, who had been the involuntary cause of his Sovereign's death.

This tragic event completely changed Montgomery's destiny. Deprived of his post and banished to his estates in Lower Normandy, he beguiled the tedium of his enforced leisure by the study of works on the religious controversy, was converted to the Reformed faith, and, after the massacre of Vassy, participated openly in Calvinistic worship, and established a prêche at his château of Ducey. Scarcely had the first War of Religion broken out, than he joined the army of Condé, at the head of a considerable body of gentlemen, and, combining as he did considerable military talent with the most dashing courage, soon became one of the most redoubtable of the Huguenot leaders, and inflicted several reverses on the royal troops. At the time of the St. Bartholomew he was in Paris, but, having had the good fortune to be lodged in the faubourgs, succeeded in effecting his escape, though he was hotly pursued for many miles. He then took refuge in Jersey, and subsequently in England, where he organised an expedition which made a descent upon the Breton coast. In February 1574, he was again in arms, and landed in Normandy with English supplies and English volunteers; but his stormy career was now drawing to a close. Besieged in Domfront, with a mere handful of his followers, by the Maréchal de Matignon at the head of 10,000 men, he surrendered, after a gallant defence, on the promise that his life should be spared. Catherine,[20] however, who, ever since the fatal tourney, had entertained for him the most violent hatred, declined to recognise this verbal capitulation; and Montgomery was brought from Normandy to Paris, tried by the Parlement on a charge of high treason and, on June 26, condemned to a traitor's death. On the following day, after having been put to the question, he was placed in a tumbril, with his hands tied behind his back, conveyed to the Place de Grève, and there beheaded and quartered. Catherine herself, L'Estoile tells us, witnessed the execution, "and was at length avenged, as she had so long desired, for the death of the late King Henri, her husband."[21]

Notes

(1) The appointment of the last, whose orthodoxy was already suspected, was a snare to entrap him.

(2) F. Decrue, Anne, duc de Montmorency.

(3) "State Papers, Elizabeth (Foreign Series)."

(4) Ibid.

(5) La Place, De l'estat de la religion et république.

(6) He was the son of Jacques, Comte de Montgomery, a veteran of the wars of Louis XII, and was at this time about twenty-eight years old. His father had preceded him in the command of the Scottish Guard, and still held the title of Captain, though Gabriel, who had been promised the reversion of the post, fulfilled all the duties. The Montgomerys were, of course, of Scotch origin, and traced their descent from the lairds of Ardrossan.

(7) "State Papers, Elizabeth (Foreign Series)."

(8) This part of the Rue Saint-Antoine had been unpaved for the occasion.

(9) His despatch is dated July 1, but, with the exception of a few sentences, it was written on the previous evening.

(10) Caraccioli's letter was published in a Recueil des épistres des princes collected by Girolamo Ruscelli, and translated into French by Belleforest in 1572. A second edition appeared two years later, since which it has never been reprinted; and, so far as we are aware, the bishop's account of the tragedy has not appeared in any modern work.

(11) The anxiety to induce Henri II to leave the lists had probably nothing to do with the sinister dreams and presentiments of which so many writers speak, but was due to the fact that the King, when he over-exerted himself, was subject to attacks of vertigo, and had had a severe one not long before, after playing tennis.

(12) According to the Mémoires de Tavennes, the King had lowered his visor, but, in his eagerness to engage Montgomery, had not stopped to fasten it.

(13) "The force of which stroke was so vehement and the paine he had withall so great, as he was much astonished and had great ado (with reling to and fro) to kepe himself on horseback." — Throckmorton.

(14) "Whereupon with all expedition he was unarmed in the field, even against the place where I stode. . . . Marry, I saw a splinte taken out of a good bigness." — Throckmorton.

(15) "I noted him to be very weake, and to have the sens of all his lymmes almost benummed, for being caryed away, as he lay along, he moved neither hand nor fote, but laye as one amazed." — Throckmorton.

(16) Relation d'Andre Vésale, in Ruble, Antoine de Bourbon et Jeanne d'Albret.

(17) Jérôme de la Rovère, Bishop of Toulon, in the sermon which he preached at the King's funeral, stated that Henri II, after receiving the Sacraments, called the Dauphin, and "recommended to him his Church and his people, and declared that he persisted and remained firm in the faith in which he was dying." It is doubtful, however, if during the last days of his illness Henri II was ever conscious.

(18) Brantôme. And the courtly chronicler observes: "Such were the remarkable titles and fine qualities which were attributed to this great king, which assuredly he deserved, as no one can gainsay."

(19) "The King (François II) has sent to inform Madame de Valentinois that, because of her evil influence (mali officii) with the King, his father, she merited a severe punishment; but that, in his royal clemency, he did not wish to disquiet her further. Nevertheless, she must restore all the jewels which the King, his father, had given her." Despatch of Giovanni Michieli, July 12, 1559, in Armand Baschet, la Diplomatie vénitienne. It will be remembered that these jewels had been given by François I to Madame d'Étampes, and that, on François's death, Henri II had, presumably at Diane's demand, compelled that lady to surrender them, on the ground that they were the property of the Crown. Now, the despoiler of Madame d'Étampes found herself treated in like manner.

According to Brantôme, Diane received orders to retire from Court and to restore the jewels even before the breath had left Henri II's body. "What! Is the King dead?" inquired the duchess of the gentleman who brought them. "No, Madame," was the answer; "but he can only linger a little longer."  "So long as an inch of life remains to him," rejoined the lady haughtily, "I desire my enemies to know that I fear them not, and that, so long as he is alive, I shall not obey them. But, when he is dead, I do not wish to survive him, and-all the bitternesses which they may be able to inflict upon me will be only sweets in comparison with my loss. And so, whether my King be alive or dead, I do not fear my enemies."

(20) Catherine was at this time again Regent, Charles IX having just died, while Henri III had not yet returned from Poland.

(21) Journal de l'Estoile. One of the clauses in the "Paix de Monsieur" (February 1576) declared the execution of Montgomery to have been a miscarriage of justice.

Index

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Adrian, Pope, VI

16 note, 65

"Adventurers," the

103, 109

Aigues-Mortes

interview of, 112, 130

Alarcon

36, and the exchange of hostages, 38-9

Albany, Duke of [Stuart, John]

account of, 19 and note; demanded as hostage, 32 note; in Rome, 69; envoy from Clement to François I, 71-2; arrangements for the marriage of Catherine de' Medici, 81, 82; at Marseilles, 86

Albret, Jeanne d'

134, 323; married Guillaume de la Marck, Duke of Clèves, 135 note, 137-8; at baptism of François II, 147; marries the Duc de Vendôme, 150, 181, 231

Albret, Henri d', King of Navarre

9-10, 22 and note, 60, 86; appointed Lieutenant-General for South of France, 109; honours for, 173; at Coronation of Henri II, 212, 214; Governor of Guienne, 224; sent to Upper Navarre, 231

Albret, Isabeau d'

310 note

Alcala

27

Alcazar, the, Madrid

François I a prisoner in, 27-35, 91

Alcibiades, Albert, Margrave of Culmbach

270, 278-9, 281

Aldobrandini, Silvestro

68 and note

Alençon, Duchesse d'

see Navarre, Marguerite, Queen of

Alençon, Duc d', brother-in-law of François I

10, 22 and note, 29

Alençon, François, Duc d', afterwards Duc d'Anjou

145 note, 294, 296

Alessandria, fall of

47

Alessandro de' Medici

65-6, 73

Algiers, Charles V's expedition against

139

Almain camp [Fort Slack]

taken by Montmorency, 243

Alsace, invasion of

275-6

Alva, Duke of

accompanies Charles V to France, 131; at Perpignan, 144; and Albert Alcibiades, 281-3; invades the Campagna, 313; relief of Civitella, 314; represents Philip II at his marriage, 340-1, 343

Alvaro de Lurgo, Don

the princes' ransom deposited with, 56-9

Ambleteuse

English works at, 242-3

Amboise

3, 4, 37, 61, 87, 89, 132

Amiens

the army assembled at, 285

Ampudia, fortress of

51

Amyot, Jacques

295

Andaye

36, 48, 57, 58

Andelot, Seigneur d'

see Coligny, François de

Anet, Château of

73, 123, 178, 347; description, 249-53; Henri II at, 252-3; later history of, 348-9

Angoulême, Charles d'Orléans, Comte d'

2 note

Angoulême, Charles, Duc d'

see Orléans, Charles, Duc d'

Angoulême, Duc d', afterwards Henri III

294, 295-6

Angoulême, Henri d'

294

Angoulême, Louise of Savoy, Duchesse d'

see Louise of Savoy

Angoulême, Marguerite d'

see Navarre, Marguerite, Queen of

Angoulême, the Bastard d'

263

Angoumois

226, 229

Anjou, House of

312

Annates

6 and note

Anne de Bretagne

1, 2, 3

Annebaut

surrenders to the Imperialists, 108; shares power with Montmorency, 137; lieutenant-general under Henri at Roussillon, 142; his plans known to the Imperialists, 142-3; again lieutenant to the Dauphin, 155; mission to Ghent, 166; François I and, 171, 172; deprived of rank, 173; associated with Catherine de' Medici in the Regency in 1552, 272

Apchon

235

Aquitaine

salt of 223

Aragon

8, 143, 291

Aramon

284

Aranson, M. d'

255

Ardres

9, 242

Ardrossan, the Lairds of

339 note

Arenberg, Comtesse d' [Marguerite de la Marche]

193 note

Arles

8 note, 102

Arlon

142

Armagnac, Sénéchal d'

23

Arraiz, Dragut

290

Arran, Earl of

339

Artois

32, 286; invasion by François I, 107; suzerainty of, 158

Asti

1, 32, 43

Aubertin

cited, 220 note

Aubespine, Claude l'

178 note, 292; on Saint-André, quoted, 164 note

Augsburg, Interim of

268-9; annulled, 278

Aumale, Claude de Lorraine, duc d'

129 note, 183, 281, 283 note

Aumale, Duchesse d' [Louise de Brézé]

177, 183, 346, 347, 348

Aumale, Duchy of

183

"Austrasian expedition," the

266-77

Avigliana, fortress of

110-11

Avignon

102; François I at, 17; Montmorency's camp entrenched at, 102-5; Henri's force at, 142

Avignon, Legate of

83

Avila, Bishop of

27

Aydie, Jeanne d'

1 note

Aydie, Odet d' [Comte de Comminges]

1 note

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Bapaume

285, 286

Barbarossa (Khair-Ed-Din)

52 note, 86; expedition of Charles V against, 94-5; on the coast of Provence, 151 and notes

Barbary States

horses from, 305

Barbezieux

224

Barcelona

17, 26, 52, 106

Barlemont

148

Bar-sur-Seine

26, 32

Bassadonna

despatches of, 119

Bastia

290

Bastille, the

12, 121, 172, 335, 339, 345

Bayard, Chevalier de (Pierre du Terrail)

22; death of, 15

Bayard, Gilbert

33, 173, 175

Bayonne

38, 39, 56, 57, 224; François I at, 40; arrival of the princes and Queen Eleanor at, 60

Béarn

134

Beaton, Cardinal

237

Beatrix of Portugal

and the Duke of Savoy, 81-2, 95

Beaucaire

cited, 154, 155, 156

Beaujeu, Anne de

80

Beaune

mimic combat in honour of Henri II at, 220-21

Beaupréau, Marquis de

293

Beauvais

Henri meets Montmorency at, 329

Beauvais, Bishop of

see Châtillon

Bed of Justice of 1552

271

Bedford, John, Duke of, Regent of France

340

Bellay, Cardinal du

174 note

Bellay, Eustache du, Bishop of Paris

322-4

Bellay, François du, Comte de Tonnerre

81

Bellay, Guillaume du

10, 139 and note, 145; (cited), 10, 20, 21 note, 100, 101, 105

Bellay, Joachim du

249, 307

Bellay, Martin du

145, 150; (cited), 106, 141, 169, 170, 171 note

Belleforest

(cited), 117

Bellièvre, Pompone de

260

Benefices

right of collation to, abandoned by Henri II, 233

Benisano, Castle of

26, 27

Benne, estate of

187

Bentivoglio, Conte Cornelio

169

Barardier, Sieur Denys

account of the mimic combat at Beaune, 220-1

Berry

183 note

Bertrandi, President Jean

173 and note, 337; associated with Catherine in the Regency, 271-2

Berwick

238

Bèze, Théodore de

(cited), on Henri II and the martyr, 233, 234; on the death of Henri II, 345

Béziers, Bishop of

and the Jarnac affair, 198

Bibliothèque Nationale

letters of Henri II in, 253-4

Bidassoa, the exchange of hostages at

36, 38, 48; the ransom for the princes paid at, 57-9; crossing of Charles V, 131

Billon, François de

(cited), 119

Binche, siege of

148-9

Binet, Père

3

Blackness (Blaconet)

243

Blansac, revolt at

224

Blois

4 and note, 89, 132

Blount, Elizabeth

69 note

Bochetel

173

Bodin

his mission to the captive princes at Pedraza, 51-5

Boghall, Castle of

263

Boisy, Grand Equerry

in the Jarnac duel, 201-8

Bologna

the Concordat of 1576, 6, 7; meeting between Clement VII and Charles V at, 74-6, 81 note; Council of, 267

Bomy, truce of

108-9, 111

Bona da Romagnano

22 note

Bonifacio

290

Bonner, Edmund (afterwards Bishop of London)

on Clement VIIs journey to Bologna, 74 note, 75

Bonnivet, Seigneur de (Guillaume Goumer)

1 note; career of, 9 note; in Navarre, 9-10; his retreat from Italy, 14, 15; his advice at Pavia, 19; death, 22

Bordeaux

revolt against the gabelle 224-6; punishment of by Montmorency, 226-8; its liberties restored, 229

Borgia, Cæsar

249 note

Bossuet, Jacques Bénigne, Bishop of Meaux

295

Bossut-Longueval, Comte de

and Mme. d'Étampes, 154; accused of treasonable correspondence with Charles V, 155-6; arrested, 175; prosecution of abandoned, 187

Bouchot, M. Henri

(cited), 78, 80, 124

Bouillon

10, 277

Bouillon, Duchesse de (Françoise de Brézé)

346, 347

Bouillon, Godefroi de

64 note

Boulogne

108, 155; siege, 153, 159; failure of the camisado of, 160, 161 and note, 162; again besieged, 165, 166; the treaty of 1546, 236; invested by Henri II and Montmorency, 243, 244; entry of Henri II into, 245

Boulogne, Treaty of

244-5

Boulonnais

Henri II 's invasion of the, 242-3

Bourbon, Antoine de

see Vendôme, Duc de

Bourbon, Cardinal Louis de

83, 147, 174 note, 181, 302 note, 323-4; Grand Inquisitor, 335

Bourbon, Connétable de

and Madame de Chateaubriand, 1 note; occupation of the Milanese, 7; treason of, 12-14, 93, 115; flight, 14; and Bayard, 15; invasion of Provence, 16; his force of landsknechts, 18, 19; battle of Pavia, 21; and the Treaty of Madrid, 32; leads the Imperialists against Rome, 45; death, 46

Bourbon, Louis de

see Condé, Prince de

Bourbon, Madame de

death, 13

Bourbon, Marguerite de

2 note

Bourbon, Pierre II de

12 note

Bourbon, Suzanne de

her inheritance 12; death, 13

Bourg, Antoine du

338, 339, 345

Bourges

6 note

Bourgeuil, Abbey of

94

Bourgogne, Duc de

see Albret, Henri d'

Bouvines

taking of, 288

Boys (lawyer of Périgueux)

235

Brabant

invasion of, 142

Brandenburg

revolt of, 268

Brantôme (cited)

on François I and the Treaty of Madrid, 41; on the sack of Rome, 45 note, 46; on Mary Stuart, 78; on Madame d'Étampes, 91; on the Dauphin François, 98; on Anne de Montmorency, 103, 104; on Diane de, 116, 258 note, 299; on La Châtaigneraie, 194, 195; on the duel of La Châtaigneraie and Jarnac, 208; on Montmorency's severities at Bordeaux, 229; on Catherine de' Medici, 304; on Henri II, 309, 346 and note; on Guise's expedition against Calais, 318

Brenner, the

276

Brézé, Artus de

French Ambassador to Scotland, 239, 260

Brézé, Jacques de

114

Brézé, Jean de

and Saint-Vallier, 115, 117 note, 120

Brézé, Louis de

demanded as hostage, 32 note; marries Diane de Poitiers, 114; the Saint-Vallier affair, 117; his wife's respect for his memory, 122-3; discovery of the Bourbon conspiracy, 248 note

Brézé, Louise de

see Aumale, Duchesse d'

Briançon

109

Briandas the Jester

betrayal of the Dauphin by, 164, 165

Brion, Chabot de

22-3, 60; arrangements for the exchange of François I, 33-8; advances on Savoy, 96; ally of Madame d'Étampes, 128; his disgrace, 135, 136; sent to Perpignan, 147; rehabilitated, 144; death, 144 note

Brissac, M. de [Charles de Cossé]

202, 344; his gallant action before Perpignan, 144; the Dauphin Henri and, 164; success in Piedmont, 268, 284, 289, 307; joins Guise, 314

Brittany

1; benefices, right of collation to, abandoned, 233

Brosse, Jean de

see Étampes, Duc d'

Brosse, René de

93

Bruges

secret agreement between Wolsey and Charles V concluded at, 10-11

Brusquet, the

Dauphin Henri and, 104

Brussels

Royal Archives at, 175 note; French advance on, 288

Bugey

330, 333

Bullenberg

see Mont-Lambert

Buren, Comte de

107

Burgundy

Charles demands surrender of, 26, 27, 30; decision of François I regarding, 31; cession opposed, 40-1; stipulation in the Treaty of Cambrai, 50; Charles V's proposals regarding, 134; Charles V waives his right to, 158

"Burgundy," herald-at-arms

his mission to François I, 48, 49

Burtenbach, Sebastian von

270

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Cabanillas, Don Geronimo

26

Cabrières, Vaudois of

massacre, 232-3

Caize

fencing-master, 109

Calabria

115

Calais

9, 245, 332, 333; 30,000 English soldiers at, 152; Henry VIII embarks for England, 159; and Charles V, 266 and note; expedition of Guise against, 318; the town taken, 319; treaty concerning, 330, 331

Calvinists

335, 336

Cambrai

285, 286; treaty of, 1517, 7; Peace of (la Paix des Dames), 50

Cambrésis, the

286, 288

Camilla, Queen of the Volsci

299

Campi, sack of

314

Capello, Giovanni

Venetian Ambassador in France, 302 note; cited on Montmorency, 289; on François II, 294; on Mary Stuart, 294; on Catherine de' Medici, 305; on Henri II, 308

Caraccioli, Antoine

see Troyes, Bishop of

Caraffa, Cardinal

see Paul IV, Pope

Caraffa, Cardinal Carlo

legate to France, 313, 335

Caraman, Comte de

349

Carew, Sir Peter

287

Carloix, Vincent

185 note, 186, 193, 344

Carlos, Don

son of Philip II, 287 note

Carrières, Château of

240

Casale

230

Castaldo, Neapolitan officer

22 note

Castiglione, Baldassare (Papal Nuncio at Toledo)

42

Castile

8, 291

Cateau-Cambrésis, Treaty of

9; terms, 330-1; anger in France, 331

Catherine de Medici, Queen of France

childhood, 65; sent to Florence, 65-6; development of her character, 66, 80; at the Murate, 67, 68, 80; her adventures during the revolution in Florence, 67, 68; return to Rome, 68, 69; her suitors, 69, 70; proposed marriage between her and the Duc d'Orléans, 70-3; and Ippolito de' Medici, 173; sent back to Florence, 74; the marriage arranged, 75-6; her dowry, 77; trousseau and jewels, 78-9; pension from François, 79; leaves Florence for France, 81; presents from François I and Henri, 81; personal appearance, 84-6; the marriage ceremony, 85-7; early married life, 88-9; unpopularity of her marriage, 89; wins the favour of François I, 89, 90; accused of poisoning the Dauphin François, 101; and Diane de Poitiers, 126, 258-60; children of, 145 note; birth of François II, 145; diplomacy of, 146; baptism of François II, 147-8; holds the balance between the Bourbons and the Guises, 183; present from Paul III, 218; and the glorification of Diane, 230; entry into Lyons, 231; coronation and state entry into Paris, 231-2; birth of Charles IX, 253; letter to Henri of Navarre, 262 note; appointed Regent, 271-2, 288, 351 note; superintends her children's education, 298; love of hunting, 304; her cercle, 305-7; austerity of, 309-11; her courage and presence of mind after Saint-Quentin, 317; at the marriage of the Dauphin, 321, 323; at death of Henri II, 344; demands the restoration of the jewels given by Henri II to Diane de Poitiers, 346-7; and Montmorency, 349; and Montgomery, 351

Catherine of Aragon

divorce, 63

Cavalli, Marino

despatches to Venice, 125, 167-8, 176

Célestins, Couvent des

345

Cellini, Benvenuto

46 note, 77, 154; chimney-pieces at Anet, 250

Cercamp, Abbey of

the congress at, 328-9

Cerceau, Du

engraver, 250

Ceresole, battle of

153, 169

Cervia

restored, 63

Chabot, Charles de

195

Chabot de Brion

see Brion, Chabot de

Chabot, Guy de

see Jarnac

Châlons

155, 272

Châlons, Bishop of

212

Chambéry

state entry of Henri II into, 221

Chambord, Treaty of

270-1

Chambre ardente, the

234, 333

Champagne

275

Champollion, Aimé

120

Chantilly, Château of

78, 133, 179, 217, 340

Charente, the

191, 224

Charlemagne

legend of, 183 note; crown of, 215

Charles, Duc d'Angoulême, afterwards Duc d'Orléans

see Orléans, Charles, Duc d'

Charles of Austria

see Charles V

Charles le Chauve

211 note

Charles III, Duke of Lorraine

in France, 273, 274, 323, 325, 333

Charles III, Duke of Savoy

see Savoy, Duke of

Charles V

the Emperor-sovereign of the Netherlands, 1, 5, 7; elected Emperor, 8 and note -9; siege of Tournai, 10; secret treaty with Wolsey at Bruges, 11; league against France, 1523, 12; secret treaty with the Connétable de Bourbon, 13-14; and the invasion of Provençe, 16; his demands after Pavia, 26; hears of François I's illness, 28-30; and the negotiations at Toledo, 30-1; and the Treaty of Madrid, 32-9; and the marriage of François I and Queen Eleanor, 34; Peace of Toledo, 35; François refuses to execute the Treaty of Navarre, 40-2; conditions for joining the Holy League 42-3; his position, 43; contemplated duel with François I, 48; and the "Eternal Peace," 50; his treatment of the Spanish princes, 51-5; his distrust of François I, 52; his Italian scheme, 63; his policy towards Clement VII, 63-4; proposes a suitor for Catherine de' Medici, 70-2; meeting with Clement VII at Bologne, 74-6; tries to prevent the Pope's journey to Nice, 81; expedition against Barbarossa, 94-5; his speech before Paul IV and the Sacred College, 96; invasion of Provence, 97; its failure, 102-3; his retreat, 105 and note, 106; and the Truce of Bomy, 108-9; conference at Nice and ten years' truce, 111; and the Truce of Monçon, 111; invited to pass through France on his way to the Netherlands, 131; progress through France, 131-2; entry into Paris, 132-3; at Chantilly, 133; invests his son with the Milanese, 135; failure of the Algerian expedition, 139-40; defence of Perpignan, 143; his march on Clèves, 149; distrust of Henry VIII, 153; captures the Dauphin's magazines at Épernay and Château-Thierry, 155, 156; opens negotiations for peace, 156; Peace of Crépy, 157-8; refuses to enter into a new treaty with François I, 166; and the Farnesi, 217-18; his assistance sought by Julius III, 267; and Henri II, 266 and note; his grievances against France, 267; and the Interim of Augsburg, 268, 269; his unpopularity in Germany, 268, 269; war of Parma, 269; Henri II's hatred of, 271; flight from Innspruck, 276; prepares to recover Metz, 278; his siege of Metz, 282, 283; and the battle of Renty, 288, 289; and the Truce of Vaucelles, 290; his abdication, 290, 291

Charles VI, King of France

340

Charles VII, King of France

114, 249 note

Charles VIII, King of France

22; minority, 80

Charles IX, King of France

79, 145 note, 154, 253, 307, 351 note

Charles X, King of France

coronation, 211 note

Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy

30, 32

Charlotte de France

114

Charolais, the

134

Chartres, Our Lady of

relic, 255 and note

Chassaigne, La

and the insurrection at Bordeaux, 225-8

Chastel, Pierre, Bishop of Mâcon

190

Château d'If

83

Château-Thierry

155, 156

Chateaubriand, Edict of

333

Chateaubriand, Mme. de

1 and note, 9 note, 11 note, 91, 92 and note, 120

Chateaubriand, Seigneur de (Jean de Montmorency-Lavel)

1 note

Chatellerault

138

Chatellerault-Hamilton, Duke of

339

Châtillon, Odet, Cardinal de

87, 174 note, 186, 219, 306; and the coronation of Henri II, 210, 212, 213-14; appointed Grand Inquisitor, 335

Chaumont, Château of

347

Cheney (English Ambassador)

148

Chenonceaux, Château of

249, 347

Cher, the

249

Chevreuse

171, 183

Chiavenna

20

Chieri

268, 330

Children of France

education, 297; Household, 298

Christian III of Denmark

joins the Anti-Imperial Alliance, 140

Civita-Vecchia

87

Civitella

siege of, 314

Clairefontaine

193

Claude de France [afterwards Duchess of Lorraine]

145 note, 274, 296-7, 306, 325

Claude de France [first wife of François I]

her unhappy married life, 1-4, 117; children of, 2 note, 3; death of, 4; her sanctity, 4 and note, 174 note

Clement VII, Pope

peace offers to France rejected, 16 and note; and France, 18; and Charles, 33; absolves François I from his oath, 42; proposes the Holy League of Cognac, 42; treaty with the Viceroy of Naples, 44; flight to St. Angelo, 44, 46; escape from Rome, 47; the "Eternal Peace," 50; reinstated by Charles, 63; his tortuous policy, 64; and Alessandro de' Medici, 65 and note -6; return of Catherine de' Medici, 68-9; proposal of François I, 70-3; meeting arranged with Charles at Bologna, 74-6; dowry of Catherine de' Medici, 77-9; journey to Nice, 80-2; arrival in Marseilles, 82-4; the marriage ceremonies, 85-7; presents to François I, 86-7; death, 87, 94

Clèves, Duke of

see La Marck

Clinton, Lord

truce with Coligny, 244

Clovis

211 note

Cognac in Saintonge

41

Coligny, François de

184, 306, 316, 326, 336, 337

Coligny, Gaspard de

87, 149, 201, 244, 306, 336; Colonel-General of Infantry, 184; takes Lens, 314; defence of Saint-Quentin, 315-17; and Calais, 318

Coligny, Odet de

see Châtillon, Odet, Cardinal de

Colliers, Mile, des

127 note

Colonna, Cardinal Pompeo

his raid upon Rome, 44

Colonna, Vittoria

14 note

Compiègne

289

Compiègne, Abbey of

94

Compiègne, edict of

335

Conciergerie, the

335

Conclave of 1549

267

Concordat of 1516

6-7, 218

Condé, Louis de Bourbon, Prince de

181, 282, 307, 310, 316, 325, 336

Condé, Princesse de

348

Condom

94

Coni

assault on 199

Conseil des affaires politiques

composition of, 174 note

Conseil d'État

composition, 174 note

Constantinople

8

Contarini, Lorenzo (Venetian Ambassador in France)

on Diane de Poitiers, 118-21; 256, 258, 263-4; on Henri II, 292, 301, 309

Conti, Princesse de

78

Corsica

290, 330

Corso, Sampiero

290

Cossé, Anne de

344

Coucy

1

Cousin, Jean

his work at the Château of Anet, 250

Coutances, Bishop of

174 note

Couvent des Filles-Dieu

300-1

Crecy-en-Laonnois

288

Cremona

43

Crépy, Peace of

terms, 157-8; the Dauphin's anger at and protest against, 158-9

Cybo, Caterina, Duchess of Caminino

81

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Dampierre

171, 191

Damville, Baron de

see Montmorency, Henri

Damvilliers

277; reduced, 142

Dandolo, Matteo, Venetian Ambassador in France

account of Henri II, 62, 86 note, 176; portrait of Henry II at his coronation, 216, 217

Dandouin

191

Dauphiné

15; passes, 102; journey of Henri II through, 221, 226

Decrue, M. François (cited)

103, 173, 229, 279, 286

Delorme, Philibert

his work at the Château of Anet, 250, 253

Demonti, M.

349

Denmark, secession of

152

Desvres

reduction of, 108

Diane de France

267, 294; parentage, 126 and note; marriage to François Montmorency, 284-5, 299-301

Dilke, Lady

on Anet, 251

Dinant

taking of, 288

Dombes, Prince de

348

Domfront

351

Dominican Church, Metz

280

Dora, the

109

Doria, Andria

fleet of, 106, 151, 290; at Marseilles, 17, 82; withdraws from before Naples, 49; at Toulon, 102; at Genoa, conspiracy against, 222; defeat of, 284

Douai

314

Doullens

108; skirmish at, 285

Draguignan

105 note

Dragut

see Arraiz, Dragut

Drogo

tomb of, 280

Duc, Filippa

mistress of Henri II, 125, 126 and note, 260

Ducey

350

Dudley, English Ambassador

148

Duel

the Jarnac affair 193-209

Dumbarton

239

Dunkerque

327

Dunois

see Orléans

Durance

97

Düren

fall of, 149-50

Duval

eliminated, 173

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Éclaron

304

Écouen

179, 217, 251, 339, 340

Écu, or crown

value of, 173 note

Edinburgh

238

Édit ambitieux, the

301

Edward VI

proposed Scottish marriage with Mary Stuart, 237-9; betrothed to Madame Élisabeth, 244, 245; death, 286

Egmont, Comte d'

at Gravelines, 327-8, 340

Elbeuf

183

Eleanor, Queen [2nd wife of François I]

14 and note, 29 note, 31, 32; visit of François I and Charles V to, 35; and the young princes, 39, 51; married by procuration to Francois I, 56; at Saint-Jean-de-Luz, 59; meeting with François I, 60; at Aubagne, 83; and the marriage of the Duc d'Orléans, 85, 86; François's poor opinion of her capabilities, 109; efforts for peace, 111; receives Charles V at Loches, 132; at the baptism of François II, 147; retirement, 174 and note

Élisabeth de Valois

145 note, 148, 241 and note, 244, 296-7, 306, 333, 339-41

Elizabeth of England

and Mary Stuart's jewels, 78, 245; refuses Philip of Spain, 329; receives despatches from France, 338-40; 343-4

Embrun, Archbishop of

at the Alcazar, 30, 33

Émery, Château of

148

Enghien, François de Bourbon, Comte d'

151, 153, 159; suspicious death of, 169-70, 180-1

Enghien, Jean de Bourbon, Comte d'

181, 216, 316; in Metz, 282

English refugees in France

extradition of refused by Henri II, 287

Épernay

155

Erskine, Lord

240

Essek

Austrian defeat at, 111

Este, Alfonso d', Prince of Ferrara

341

Este, Anne d'

307; marriage, 231, 241-2

Estouteville, Duc d'

147

Estrées, Gabrielle d'

348

Étampes, Duc d' (Jean de Brosse)

93, 174 note, 175, 187-8, 193

Étampes, Duchesse d', Anne de Pisseleu (mistress of François I)

early career of, 90-4; and Catherine, 90; and François I, 107, 108, 120, 123, 164, 171; and Diane de Poitiers, 126, 129, 135, 167, 175-6; effects the disgrace of Montmorency, 135-8; at baptism of François II, 147; eager for peace between François I and Charles V, 154; suspected of treasonable correspondence with the Imperialists, 154; and the peace of Crépy, 158; fearful of the fate which awaits after François I's death, 167; her disgrace, 174, 175; last years, 187-8; and the Duc d'Orléans, 193; and the Jarnac affair, 197

"Eternal Peace," the

between Clement VII and Charles V, 50

Etréaupont

277

Eu, Comte d'

348

Expectatives

6 note

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Farnese, Cardinal

at baptism of François II, 147

Farnese, Orazio,

betrothed to Diane de France, 218; and Paul III, 219; French favour, 267; his marriage, 284, 285; death at Hesdin, 285, 299

Farnese, Ottavio

217, 218, 267-8

Farnese, Pierluigi

Parma and Piacenza conferred upon, 217-18; assassinated, 218; conspiracy of his sons against the Milanese, 222

Faur, Louis du

arrest, 338, 339

Feramosca

and the army of Bourbon, 45

Ferdinand, Archduke of Austria, King of Bohemia and Hungary, afterwards Emperor

12, 33, 133, 134, 150, 158, 269; defeated at Essek, 111; quarrel with Charles V, 269

Ferdinand the Catholic

5

Ferdinand V, King of Spain

7

Ferrara

45, 47, 63

Ferrara, Cardinal de

174 note

Ferrara, Duke of

69, 231, 313

Ferriere, La, Comte Hector de

on the Diane chasseresse, 252; on death of François I, 171

Ferron, Le (cited)

117

Ferronius (cited)

on death of François I, 171 note

Field of the Cloth of Gold, the

9, 148

Finisterre

240

Flanders

10, 32; suzerainty over, 158

Fleming, Lady Janet Stuart (mistress of Henri II)

239, 260-3 and notes

Florence

33, 47, 63; and the Holy League of Cognac, 42-4; Catherine de' Medici in, 68; Catherine's dowry raised in, 79

Foix, Françoise de

see Chateaubriand, Mme.

Foix, Gaston de

11 note

Foix, Maréchal de

22

Foix, Odet de

see Lautrec, Vicomte de

Fontaine-Lavaganne, Château of

90

Fontainebleau

89, 145, 147-8; protest of the Dauphin Henri against the Peace of Crépy at, 158-9; the Court of Henri II established at, 217; Cardinal Caraffa at, 313; Mary Stuart's secret treaty signed at, 325-6

Fontainebleau, Treaty of

313

Fontarabia

10, 36, 48, 57, 58

Forêt-Moutiers, Abbey of

166

Forneron, M. Henri

on the death of the Comte d'Enghien, 169, 170; on Montmorency and the Duc de Guise, 279 note

Fosseuse scandal, the

262 note

Fougerolles

and the camisado of Boulogne, 160-1

Fraisse, Jean du, Bishop of Bayonne

270

Franche-Comté

134, 175, 333

Francisque, Seigneur, envoy to Rome

70

François, Dauphin (son of François I)

his birth, 3 and note; hostage to Spain, 32, 36, 37-9, 50; treatment in captivity, 51-2; and the mission of Bodin, 53-5; release and journey to Vittoria, 56; and the Constable of Castile, 57-8; and the exchange at the Bidassoa, 58-9; effect of his captivity upon his character, 61-2; his establishment, 88; his death, 98, 99; obsequies, 189

François I, King of France

and Queen Claude, 1; and Mme. de Châteaubriand, 1 and note; and the campaign of Marignano, 6; and the Concordat, 6, 7; and the Treaty of Cambrai, 7; his candidature for the Empire, 8; character, 7-8; and the Field of the Cloth of Gold, 9; sends Bonnivet into Navarre, 9, 10; and the defection of the Connétable de Bourbon, 12-14; and the invasion of Provence, 16; relieves Marseilles, 17; again invades the Milanese, 17, 18; siege of Pavia, 18-20; defeated and made prisoner at the battle of Pavia, 22; his letter to his mother, 24, 25; removed to Spain, 26 and note; imprisoned in the Alcazar at Madrid, 27, 28; falls ill, and is visited by Charles V, 28; arrival of Marguerite d'Angoulême, 29; his life despaired of, but recovers, 30; conceives the idea of abdicating, 31; changes his mind and signs the Treaty of Madrid, 32; protests secretly against it, 33, 34; betrothed to Queen Eleanor, 34, 35; returns to France, 38, 39; refuses to ratify the Treaty of Madrid, 40-2; the Holy League of Cognac, 42-4; his fatal inaction, 44; and Anne de Pisseleu, 44; and the Treaty of Westminster, 46, 47; Charles's contemplated duel with, 48; and Andrea Doria, 49; and the Treaty of Cambrai, 50; sends Bodin to Pedraza to visit his captive sons, 53; receives Bodin's report, 55; weds Eleanor by procuration at Toledo, 56; goes to meet his bride and his sons, 59, 60; his disgust at the change in the princes, 62; his eagerness to regain a footing in Italy, 62, 63; proposes a marriage between Catherine de' Medici and the Duc d'Orléans, 70-3; the marriage arranged, 75, 76; pensions accorded by him to Henri and Catherine de' Medici, 79; present to Catherine, 81; his arrival at Marseilles, 83, 84; and the marriage ceremonies, 85, 87; his presents to Clement VII, 86, 87; his conferences with the Pope, 87; his affection for Catherine de' Medici, 90; and Mme. de Chateaubriand, 91-2, 92 note; and Mme. d'Étampes, 91-4; prepares to invade the Milanese, 94, 95; demands the Milanese for the Duc d'Orléans, 95; treaty with Soliman, 95, 112, 139; deluded by Charles V, 96-7; at Valençe, 97; and the death of the Dauphin François, 98, 99; and the execution of Montecuculi, 100, 101; his visit to the camp at Avignon, 104, 105; invasion of Artois, 107; and the operations on the northern frontier, 107-9; and the truce of Bomy, 108-9; despatches a fresh army into Piedmont, 109-11; and the truce of Nice, 111; ten years' truce, 111; his interview with Charles V at Aigues-Mortes, 112; approves of the treatment of the garrison of Avigliana, 111 note; question of his amorous relations with Diane de Poitiers considered, 116-21; scene at the Château of Madrid, 127 note; falls seriously ill, 1539, 130-1; receives Charles V at Loches, 132; again deluded by the Emperor, 134; his altered relations with Anne de Montmorency, 136, 137; disgraces the Constable, 138; and the assassination of Roncon and Fregoso, 139; declares war against Charles, 140; his plan of campaign, 142; orders the Dauphin to raise the siege of Roussillon, 144; pays ransom for women prisoners, 144, 145; and the question of the dissolution of the marriage of the Dauphin and Catherine, 146-7; at the baptism of the future François II, 147; and the campaign of 1543, 148; fails to succour the Duke of Clèves, 149, 150; his position in 1544, 152-3; quiets the panic in Paris, 156, 157; and the Peace of Crépy, 157-8; favours his younger son, 163; strained relations with the Dauphin, 163; the Dauphin's indiscretions betrayed to him by the jester Briandas, 164, 165; war with England, 165, 166; resumes his claim on the Milanese, 166; and the death of the Comte d'Enghien, 169, 170; hears of death of Henry VIII, 170, 171; his counsels to the Dauphin, 171; his death, 171; his lying-in-state at Saint-Cloud, 189, 190; his remains conveyed to Saint-Denis, 190-3; and La Châtaigneraie and Jarnac, 194-7; monument to his memory, 210; extends the gabelle to the south-western provinces, 223

François II

birth, 145 and note; baptism, 147-8; childhood, 293-4; betrothal and marriage, 306, 322-5; message to Diane, 346; and Montmorency, 350

Frederick, Prince Palatine

14 note

Freer, Martha (cited)

137 note

Fregoso, Cesare

death, 139

Frejus

105 and note

Friedwald

treaty between Maurice of Saxony and France signed at, 270

Frontenac

262 note

Froude

on the Duke of Norfolk's action at Boulogne, 159 and note; on the camisado of Boulogne, 161 and note; on the Scottish marriage, 239; on landing of Mary Stuart in France, 240 note; on the War of Boulogne, 242, 243; on Madame Élisabeth's dowry, 246 note

Frundsberg, George

19 note, 45

Fürstenberg, Wilhelm von

109

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Gabelle, the

revolt against, 223-9

Gaillard (cited)

117

Galeazzo, Gian, Duke of Milan

5

Game laws of Henri II

303

Gantois, the

133

Garde, Paulin de la

139 and note, 232, 233, 268, 284, 290

Gardiner, Stephen, Bishop of Ely

245

Gattinara, Mercurino Arborio de (chief Minister of Charles V)

33

General Councils

6 note; Clement VII's dread of, 64, 71, 74, 75

Geneva

336

Genlis

191

Genoa

5, 17, 19, 32, 47, 50, 63, 87, 106, 149

Genouillac, Galiot de

19

German Protestants

and François I, 32, 43, 112, 130, 133 note, 138-9, 170; peace with Charles V, 152; and the Interim, 268

Gersay

310

Ghent, revolt at

109, 112, 130-1, 134

Giberto (cited)

44 note

Gien, Château of

79

Giustiniani (Venetian Ambassador in France)

119

Gomez, Ruy

327

Gondi, Albert de

307

Gonnor, Sieur de

274

Gontaut-Biron

taken prisoner, 316

Gonzaga, Ferrante

217-18, 267-8, 284

Gorze, Abbey of

273

Goujon, Jean

work at Anet, 250, 252

Grammont, Bishop of Tarbes

46

Gramont, Cardinal de

70, 75, 84

Granvelle, Cardinal de

101, 153, 154, 327-9, 330

Gravelines

9, 319, 327, 328

Grenoble

15

Grey de Wilton, Lord

328, 319

Grisons, defence of the

20

Grolier

252 note

Guadalajara, fêtes at

27 and note

Guasto, Marquis del

109, 111 and note, 139, 152

Guelders, Duke of

32

Guicciardini, Francesco (cited)

75; accompanies Catherine de' Medici to France, 81

Guidotti, Antonio

intrigues of, 244

Guienne

143; revolt against the gabelle, 223-5; repression of the commune, 226-9

Guiffrey, M. Georges

on Diane de Poitiers, cited, 117 note, 118, 119; 256 note, 259

Guillotin, M.

and the insurrection at Bordeaux, 225

Guines

9, 245, 318, 319; fall of, 320

Guiry, Cardinal de, Bishop of Langres

210-12, 213-1

Guise, Charles de Lorraine, Cardinal de

see Lorraine, Cardinal Charles

Guise, Claude de Lorraine, Duc de

21, 25, 32 note, 69 note, 147, 170, 171, 174 note, 177; relief of Péronne, 106; joins Montmorency, 108; sons of, 129 and note, 185; with the army in the north, 141-2; his cypher and the forged letter, 153-4; quiets the panic in Paris, 156-7; personality, 181-2; asks favour for his son Charles, 186; at the coronation of Henri II, 212; death, 264

Guise, Duchesse de (Antoinette de Bourbon)

240, 325

Guise, François de Lorraine, Duc de : (Duc d'Aumale)

129 note, 147, 159, 212; "le Balafré," 166; the murder of Enghien, 169-70; honours for, 173, 177 and note, 178; policy of Diane towards, 182, 183; seconds La Châtaigneraie, 200, 202, 203; pacification of Saintonge, 226; marriage, 231; advance on Nancy, 273, 274; defence of Metz, 279-82; humanity towards the wounded Imperialists, 284; battle of Renty, 289; fondness for horses, 304; at the Queen's cercle, 306; Italian expedition, 313, 314; expedition against Calais, 317, 318; the marriage of François II, 321, 322; his arrogance, 326; capture of Thionville, 327; and the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, 331-2; and the Inquisition, 337; and death of Henri II, 341, 343

Guise, Jean, Cardinal de Lorraine

131, 173, 181, 182, 273; death, 264

Guise, Henri de Lorraine, Duc de

293 and note

Guises, the

policy towards Paul III, 233; the Scottish marriage, 237; English policy of, 245; Diane de Poitiers and, 248, 264; intrigues with Paul IV, 312; unbearable arrogance of, 326; and the disgrace of Montmorency, 349-50

Gustavus Wasa, King of Sweden

joins the Anti-Imperial alliance, 140

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Ha, Château du

225

Haddington

siege of, 230, 242; convention of, 238, 239

Haguenau

Henri II at, 275, 276

Hainaut

10, 148, 150, 286, 288

Ham

318, 319

Harcourt, Comte d'

173, 211

Hauréau, M. François

on Diane (cited), 120

Heilly, Château of

187

Heilly, Mlle. d'

see Étampes, Duchesse d'

Henri II, King of France

his birth, 3; his childhood, 4; loses his mother, 4; demanded as a hostage for François I's execution of the Treaty of Madrid, 32; sets out with his elder brother, the Dauphin François, for Spain, 337; the English Ambassador, Dr. John Taylor's impressions of him, 39; exchanged with the Dauphin for his father on the Bidassoa, 38, 39; a ransom of 2,000,000 crowns accepted by Charles V for the liberation of the young princes, 50; their cruel captivity in Spain, 51-5; sets out with his brother and Queen Eleanor for France, 56; release of the young princes on the Bidassoa 58, 59; their arrival at Bayonne, 60; unfortunate influence of his captivity upon his character, 61, 62; neglected by his father, who "does not care for dreamy, sullen, sleepy children," 62; negotiations for his marriage with Catherine de' Medici, 62-76; revenue secured him by François I, 79; his present to his bride, 81; his marriage with Catherine de' Medici celebrated at Marseilles, 84-6; his personal appearance at this time; 85 and note; his early married life, 88, 89; the Milanese demanded for him by François I, and refused by Charles V, 95; becomes heir to the throne by the death of his elder brother, the Dauphin François, 98-101; joins Anne de Montmorency's camp at Avignon, 102, 103; defers to the opinions of the Grand-Master, 104; his campaign on the Flemish frontier, 107, 108; his conduct eulogised by Montmorency, 108; his campaign in Italy, 109-11; beginning of his liaison with Diane de Poitiers, 113-25; has a daughter by a Piedmontese girl, Filippa Duc, 125, 126 and note; efforts of François I's mistress, Madame d'Étampes, and her friends to make him ashamed of Diane, 126, 127; receives Charles V on his visit to France in 1539, 131; accompanies the Emperor on his entry into Paris, 132; escorts him to Valenciennes, 133; on bad terms with his younger brother, the Duc d'Orléans, 134; his close friendship with Anne de Montmorency, 135; efforts of Madame d'Étampes to alienate François I from him, 136; reproved by his father for his intimacy with Diane de Poitiers, 136; the Constable's supposed devotion to his interests the chief cause of that Minister's disgrace, 136-8; invades Roussillon and lays siege to Perpignan, 142-4; compelled to raise the siege and evacuate the province, 144; birth and baptism of his eldest son, afterwards François II, 145-8; question of the dissolution of his marriage with Catherine de' Medici, 146 and note; his campaign in Hainaut, in 1543, 148, 149; in command of the French Grand Army in 1544, 154, 155; entreats his father to recall Montmorency, but without success, 155; his magazines at Épernay and Château-Thierry captured by the Imperialists, 155, 156; falls back to Meaux to cover the capital, 156; his indignation at the Peace of Crépy, 158, 159; enters a secret protest against it, 159; leads his army into Picardy, to endeavour to recover Boulogne from the English, 159; failure of his night-attack upon the town, 160-2; on bad terms with his father, 163; "sells the bear's skin before the bear is killed," with unpleasant consequences, 164, 165; loses his younger brother, the Duc d'Orléans, 166; urges François I to invade Lombardy, 166; his accession anticipated with hopefulness by both Court and people, 167; his portrait by the Venetian Ambassador, Marino Cavalli, 167, 168; singular reflections by the same diplomatist on the nature of his relations with Diane de Poitiers, 168, 169; charge of foul play made against him in connection with the death of the Comte d'Enghien, 169; at his father's deathbed, 171; becomes King, 172; his interview with Montmorency at Saint-Cloud, 172; recalls the Constable and entrusts him with the supreme direction of affairs, 172, 173; his accession followed by a revolution of the palace, 173; orders Madame d'Étampes to surrender the jewels given her by the late King, and presents them to Diane de Poitiers, 174; his munificence to Diane, 175, 176; a conscientious King, but "born to be governed rather than to govern," 176; his infatuation for his mistress renders him "entirely her subject and slave," 176; the Imperial Ambassador, Saint-Mauris's impressions of him, 177-9; confidence which he reposes in the Constable, 179; amusing caricature at his expense, 179; honours and favours which he bestows on the Guises, the friends and relatives of Montmorency, and Saint-André, 183-5; shameful rapacity of his favourites, who "devour the King as a lion his prey," 185, 186; puts a stop to the prosecution of Madame d'Étampes's friend, the Comte de Bossut-Longueval, for treasonable correspondence with the Emperor, 187; and to the lawsuit of the Duc d'Étampes against his wife, 187 and note; visits Paris for the first time since his accession to the throne, 189; decides to have the remains of his two brothers conveyed to Saint-Denis at the same time as those of the late King, 190; watches incognito the passage of the funeral cortege through Paris, 190, 191; singular conversation on this occasion between him and Saint-André and Vieilleville, 190-3; suspected of having originated the report that Jarnac had boasted of the favours of his stepmother, Madeleine de Pontguyon, 196; rescued from his predicament by the intervention of La Châtaigneraie, 196; authorises a judicial duel between La Châtaigneraie and Jarnac, 197-9; makes no secret of his sympathy for the former, 200; assists at the duel with his whole Court, 201; his extraordinary behaviour after La Châtaigneraie has been placed hors de combat, 206-8; does not trouble to visit his defeated champion, 209; his sacre and coronation at Rheims, 210-16; portrait of him by the Venetian Ambassador, Matteo Dandolo, 216, 217; his policy in regard to Italy, 217; betroths his natural daughter, Diane de France, to Orazio Farnese, grandson of Pope Paul III, 218; dissuaded by the Constable from making war on Charles V, 218, 219; undertakes a journey to Piedmont, 219; mimic combat in his honour at Beaune, 220, 221; amused by the "bears" of Saint-Jean de Maurienne, 221 note; at Turin, 221, 222; annexes the marquisate of Saluzzo, 222; confirms the edict extending the gabelle, or salt-tax, to the south-western provinces, 223; returns to France, 226; sends Aumale and the Constable to suppress the insurrection in Guienne and Saintonge, 226; expresses his approval of Montmorency's severities towards the insurgents of Bordeaux, 228; reduces the gabelle in the south-western provinces, 229; restores the forfeited rights and liberties of Bordeaux, 229; his state entry into Lyons, 230, 231; arranges the marriage of Antoine de Bourbon and Jeanne d'Albret, 231; dowers Anne d'Este, 231; his state entry into Paris, 232; persecutes the Protestants, 232, 233; witnesses the burning of a Huguenot who has insulted Diane de Poitiers, 234 and note; cherishes the hope of recovering Boulogne from the English, 236; favours the Guises' project of a marriage between the Dauphin and Mary Stuart, 237; accepts the Scottish nobility's offer of Mary's hand for his eldest son, and despatches an expedition to Scotland, 238; his instructions concerning Mary on her arrival in France, 240; charmed with the little Queen, 241; his letter to her mother, Marie de Guise, 241, 242; in the War of Boulogne, 139, 244; makes peace with England, 244; presents an image of the Holy Virgin to the cathedral of Boulogne after the restoration of the town to France, 245; exchanges embassies with Edward VI, 245; his eldest daughter, Madame Élisabeth, betrothed to the young King of England, 245, 246 and note, creates Anne de Montmorency duke and peer of France, 247; ascendency of Diane de Poitiers over him, 248; presents her with the Château of Chenonceaux, and creates her Duchesse de Valentinois, 248, 249; his visits to her Château of Anet, 253; his devotion to Diane, 253; his letters to her, 253-6; his obligations to her, 257; question of her sentiments in regard to him, 257, 258; urged by her to fulfil the duties of a husband, 259; his obscure amours, 260; his liaison with Lady Fleming, governess of Mary Stuart, 260, 261; has a son by this lady, 262; compelled by Madame de Valentinois and the Queen to dismiss his Scottish mistress from the Court, 262 and note, 263 and note; persuades Diane and the Constable to make "a semblance of a peace," 264; his reply to the Imperial herald during the War of Boulogne, 266 note; takes Ottavio Farnese under his protection, 267, 268; concludes the Treaty of Chambord with the League of Schmalkalde, 270, 271; detests Charles V, 271; obtains the Parlement's approval of the war upon which he is about to enter, 271; appoints the Queen Regent, 271, 272; entertains a high opinion of the warlike qualities of the French, 272; reviews his army at Vitry, 272 and note, 273; enters Lorraine, deprives the Duchess Christina of the regency, and sends the young Duke, Charles X, to France, 274; joins the Constable at Metz, 274; his high-handed treatment of the town, 274; invades Alsace, 275; fails to get possession of Strasburg, 275; at Haguenau, 275; at Weissembourg, 276; requested by the Rhine princes and the Imperial Chamber of Speyer to advance no further, 276; seizes Toul and invades Luxembourg, 277; in the trenches before Ivoy, 277; falls ill at Sedan, 277; disbands his army, 277; sends the Duc de Guise to defend Metz, 279; joins Montmorency's army at Rheims, 281; unjustly criticized for not reinforcing the garrison of Metz, 281; marriage of his natural daughter, Diane de France, to Orazio Farnese, 284; neglects to succour Hesden, 285; death of his son-in-law Orazio Farnese at the taking of the town, 285; his futile campaign in the Netherlands, 285, 286; alarmed by the projected marriage of Philip of Spain to Mary Tudor, 286, 287, and note; protects and encourages the English refugees, 287; his spirited answer to Mary's demand for the extradition of "her traitors," 287; invades Flanders, 288; fights the battle of Renty, 288, 289; leads his army back to France, 289; concludes the Truce of Vaucelles with the Emperor, 290; his popularity, 292; his amiable qualities, 292, 293; his affection for his children, 293; his family, 294-9; arranges a marriage between Diane de France and François de Montmorency, 299, 300; issues the Édit ambitieux, 301; his personal appearance in his later years, 301; a most energetic monarch, 301; his lever, 302; his reception of Ambassadors, 302 and note; his dinner, 302, 303; his love of the chase, 303, 304; his efforts to encourage horsebreeding, 304, 305; attends the Queen's "cercle," 305; playing tennis, 308; his evening, 308; his coucher, 308, 309; outward decorum of his Court, 309, 310; his Court in reality more corrupt than that of François I, 311 and note; receives a consecrated sword from Paul IV, 313; absolved by the Pope from his oath to observe the Truce of Vaucelles, 313; neglects to strengthen the Picardy frontier, 315; provokes England into declaring war against him, 315; and the English herald, 315 note; confident of having revenge for the disaster of Saint-Quentin, 317; and the expedition of Guise against Calais, 318; convenes an assembly of Notables, 320; takes part in an Oriental masquerade in the Rue Saint-Antoine, 320; his reasons for hastening the marriage of the Dauphin and Mary Stuart, 322; at the marriage ceremony, 323, 324; attends the festivities at the Palais de Justice, 324, 325; chafing beneath the arrogance of the Guises, 326; eager for peace and the return of the captive Constable, 326, 327; his letters to Montmorency, 327; joins the French army at La Fère, 328; his interview with Montmorency at Beauvais, 329; feverishly anxious for peace, 329; concedes practically all the Spanish demands, 330; he and Diane de Poitiers the principal authors of the Peace of Cateau-Cambrésis, 331, 332; hardly dealt with both by his contemporaries and historians in this matter, 332; retrospect of the measures adopted by him for the suppression of heresy, 334-6; resumes his persecution of the Protestants after the Peace of Cateau-Cambrésis, 336, 337; indignant at the leniency shown by the Parlement, 337; attends the mercuriale of June 10, 1559, 337, 338; orders the arrest of Anne du Bourg and Louis du Faur, 339; vows that he will see Du Bourg burned, 339; his preparations for the Treaty marriages, 340; receives Alva and his suite at Chantilly, 340; takes part in the tournament of the Rue Saint-Antoine, 341, 342; mortally wounded in the right eye by a splinter from the lance of Gabriel de Montgomery, captain of the Scottish Guard, 342, 343; his illness and death, 343-5; his obsequies, 345, 346

Henri III, King of France

145 note

Henri IV, King of France

137, 181, 231, 310, 348

Henry VI, King of England

340

Henry VIII, King of England

and François I, 4, 5, 7; and the Field of the Cloth of Gold, 9; his policy in respect to François I and Charles V, 9; his secret treaty with the Emperor, 11; joins the league against France, 1523, 12; his secret treaty with Bourbon, 13-14; remains inactive, 17; makes a treaty of neutrality with Louise of Savoy, 25; his policy towards François and Charles, 29 note, 33; protector of the Holy League, 42, 43; his matrimonial arrangements for Mary Tudor, 46 and note; and the Treaty of Westminster, 46, 47; subsidises Lautrec's army, 47; Charles V's debts to him, 56 note, 58; and the divorce, 63, 87; enters into a fresh treaty with Charles V against François I, 150; his campaign of 1544 in France, 152-3, 155; distrust of Charles V, 153; François I's offer to treat with, 155; and the Peace of Crépy, 159; at Therouenne, 107; death, 170-1

Herigozon, banker

349

Hernandez de Velasco, Don Pedro

delivery of the princes, 56-9

Hesdin

107, 134, 158, 281, 284, 285

Hildegarde

tomb of, 280

Hinckmar, Archbishop of Rheims

211 note

Hocédy, Toussaint d'

273

Holy Ampulla, relic of the

211 and note, 213-14

Holy League, the

François I and, 5-6

Holy League of Cognac

42-4

Horse-breeding in France

304-5

Howard, Thomas, third Duke of Norfolk

69 note

Hugo, Victor

le Roi s' amuse, 117 note

Huguenots

see Protestants

Humières, Maréchal d'

103, 104, 173, 240, 241, 297

Humières, Mme. d'

296

Hungary

Turkish invasion, 43

Huntingdon, Lord

244

Huntly, Earl of

237

Hyères

268

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Illescas, Castle of

visit of Charles V and François I to Queen Eleanor at, 35

Infantado, Duke of

27

Innspruck

flight of Charles V, 276

Inquisition, the

established in France, 334-9

Isabella, Infanta of Portugal

35

Isle-Adam, l'

179

Ivoy, battle of

277

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

James IV

260

James V

69 and note, 150

Jarnac, Guy Chabot, Seigneur de

his character, 195; accused of having boasted of the favours of his stepmother, Madeleine de Pontguyon, 196; his fury and despair, 196; intervention of La Châtaigneraie, 196; 197; forbidden by François I to fight a judicial duel, 197; the duel sanctioned by Henri II, 197-9; his preparation for the combat, 200; his victory, 201-9

Jay, Captain Achaux

261

Jerningham, Sir Robert

47 note

John Frederick, Elector of Saxony

268, 270

Joinville

183, 219, 273, 304

Jove, Paul (cited)

145

Juana (mother of Charles V)

8 and note

Julius III

and Ottavio Farnese, 267-8; end of the War of Parma, 278-9; death, 290 note

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Kitchin, Dr

26 note; on Maurice of Saxony, 270 note

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

La Bicocca

Lautrec at, 11

La Chassaigne

see Chassaigne

La Châtaigneraie, François de Vivonne, Seigneur de

191; career of, 193-5; intervenes in the scandal concerning Jarnac and his stepmother, Madeleine de Pontguyon, 196; refused permission to fight a judicial duel with Jarnac by François I, 197; renews his request on the accession of Henri II, 198; his arrogance, 200; his duel with Jarnac at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, 201-9; his death, 209

La Chaussée

pourparlers at, 155

La Fère

316, 328

La Ferté-sous-Jouarre

156

La Marck, Françoise de

346

La Marck, Gabrielle de

327

La Marck, Guillaume de, Duke of Clèves

135 note, 137, 138; and Montmorency, 130; invades Brabant, 142; his victory at Sittard, 148; his submission to Charles V, 149-50

La Marck, Robert III, (Duc de Bouillon)

10

La Marck, Robert IV de (Seigneur de Sedan and afterwards Duc de Bouillon)

173, 185, 202, 213, 274, 277

La Muette

171

La Palice, Connétable, de (Jacques de Chabannes)

19 and note, 22

La Place

on the Inquisition, 338

La Roche-Guyon, Château of

169

La Trémoille, Duc de

19, 22, 23, 131, 211

Laboureur, Le

on the Dauphin Henri, 124

Lalanne, Ludovic

on Diane de Poitiers, 117 note; on the supposed love-letters of Diane de Poitiers to François I, 119, 120

Laménardyère

255

Landrecies, siege of

148-50

Landriano, battle of

50

Landgrave of Hesse, Philip

imprisonment of, 270

Landsknechts, the

6, 103, 109, 149, 275

Langon

226

Languedoc

143, 172

Lannoy, Charles, Marquis de [viceroy of Naples]

14 note, 19; at Pavia, 21; removes François to Spain, 26 and note, 28, 36; and the exchange of hostages, 38, 39; interview with Charles V, 40-2; his treaty with Clement VII, 44; death, 49 note

Lanspessades

272

Laon, Bishop of

212 note

Lautrec, Vicomte de (Odet de Foix)

1 note, 11 note, 25; evacuates Italy, 11; demanded as hostage, 32 note; and the liberation of François I, 38; enters Lombardy with an army subsidised by England, 47; besieges Naples, 49; his death, 49

Lautrec, Vicomte de (Phébus de Foix)

1 note

Lavergne

execution of, 226

Lay peerages in France

183 note

"Le Coup de Jarnac"

205 and note

Le Maistre, President

267, 337

Lemonnier, M.

on the treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, 333

Lenglet-Dufresnoy, Abbé

on the supposed relations between Diane de Poitiers and the poet, Clément Marot, 121, 122

Lenoir, Alexandre

349

Lenoncourt, Cardinal de

213 note, 273

Leo X, Pope

3, 64 note, 65; and the Concordat of 1516, 6; and Charles V, 10; death, 11

Lescun, Thomas, Seigneur de

1 note

Lescure (cited)

117

Lesparre, André, Seigneur de

1 note

Lestonnac

227

Leyva, Antonio de

defence of Pavia, 18, 19, 22, 23; opposes Lautrec, 47; defeats Saint-Pol, 50; enters the Milanese, 95; his advice to Charles V disregarded, 97; accused of complicity in the poisoning of the Dauphin François, 100-1; death of, 101, 105

Ligne, Jean de, Comte d'Arenberg

193 note

Liguria

rising in, 105

Limeuil, Isabelle de

307

Limoges, Vicomtes of

93

Limosin, Léonard

250

Limosin, Pierre

250

Limours

171, 174

Lincoln, Edmund de la Pole, Earl of

21 note

Lincoln, John, Earl of

21 note

Lisieux, Bishop of

60

Livingston, Lord

240

Lizet, Attorney-General

decision in the Bourbon inheritance case, 13; disgrace, 173 note, 264

Loaysa, Cardinal de

despatch, 71 and note

Loches, Château of

6 note, 115, 132

Lodi

18, 19

Longueval

see Bossut-Longueval

Longueville, Duc de

213, 216

Lorraine

occupation of, 274-5, 277

Lorraine, Antoine, Duke of

69 note

Lorraine, Cardinal Charles de

129, 173, 182, 183, 187, 210, 218, 219, 264, 302 note, 306, 350; makes secret treaty with Paul IV, 312; pushes on the marriage of the Dauphin and Marie Stuart, 321; denounces Andelot's heresy, 326; Grand Inquisitor, 334, 335, 337; urges Henri II "to prove to the King of Spain his firmness in the faith," 337; at the mercuriale of June 10, 1559, 337, 338; at the deathbed of Henri II, 343; pronounces the King's funeral oration, 346

Lorraine, Cardinal Jean de

60, 83, 128, 133-4, 137, 164, 264

Lorraine, Christina, Duchess of

273-4, 329

Lorraine, François de

death at Pavia, 21, 22

Lorraine, Charles de

348

Los Lujanes, tower of

27

Louis le Débonnaire

tomb, 280

Louis XI, King of France

30, 114

Louis XII, King of France

1, 3, 5, 6 note, 8, 11 note, 12, 71

Louis XIV, King of France

295

Louis XV, King of France

348

Louis d'Ars

death at Pavia, 22

Louise of Savoy, Duchesse d'Angoulême (mother of François I)

2, 3, 91; her influence over François I, 7, 8; and the Connétable de Bourbon, 13; Regent, 18, 271; François's letter to, after Pavia, 24-5; her energetic measures, 25-6; and the Treaty of Madrid, 36; arranges the exchange of the Dauphin and the Duc d'Orléans for François, 37-9; Treaty of Cambrai, 50; her indignation on learning of the treatment of the young princes in Spain, 55; comes to meet the princes and Queen Eleanor, 59; illness and death, 72 and note; her claim to her father's dominions, 95, 96

Louvre, the

302 note, 322, 325, 342; the Medici casket, 79; the Diane chasseresse, 252, 349

Lucca

63

Ludovico il Moro

6 note

Lutherans

see German Protestants

Luxembourg, Duchy of

French invasions, 141-2, 149-50, 276

Luxembourg, Marie de, Duchesse de Mercœur

348

Luzascho, Marco Polo

letter of, cited, 21 note

Lyons

6, 14, 16, 25, 97, 109; state entry of Henri II, 1548, 229-3

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Madrid, Treaty of

terms, 32-3; François I refuses to execute, 40-2

Magdeburg, revolt of

269-70

Mailly, Madeleine de

178 and note

Mailly, Mlle, de

184

Maine, Duc du

348

Maine, Duchesse du

348

Malherbe

122

Manoel the Great, King of Portugal

14 note, 35

Mantes

299

Mantua

47, 63

Mantua, Duke of

100, 101, 330

Manzanares, the

28

Maraviglia, execution of

94

Marcellus II, Pope

290 note

Marchaumont

178

Marck

see La Marck

Marcq

290

Mardyck

327

Margaret of Austria

11, 50, 55 and note, 217

Marguerite, de France (afterwards Duchesse of Savoy)

88, 147, 175, 201-2, 207, 330, 339, 341

Marguerite, de France (sister of François I)

see Navarre, Marguerite, Queen of

Marguerite de France ("Queen Margot")

145 note; 293, 296, 297

Maria, Infanta of Spain

158

Maria of Portugal

149

Marie, widow of James V of Scotland

181

Maries, the four

240

Marignano, battle of

6, 11 note, 12

Mariano

Piero Strozzi's defeat at, 289, 290

Marienbourg

renamed Henrienbourg, 288

Marini, Camillo

279

Marini (Venetian Ambassador in France)

119

Marolles

148

Marot, Clément

and Madame d'Étampes, 91, 93 note, 127 note, and Diane de Poitiers, 121, 122, 124

Marseilles

102; siege of, 16, 17; marriage of Henri and Catherine de' Medici at, 82-7

Martigues

211

Martin, Henri

52 note; on the illness of François I, 130 note; on the first marriage of Jeanne d'Albret, 135 note; on the Peace of Crépy, 158; on the destruction of Thérouenne, 285; on the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, 332

Mary of Austria

108-9, 276

Mary Stuart

her jewels, 78; proposed English marriage, 237; arrival in France, 239-41; Henri II's opinion of, 241; in France, 261, 304, 306; education, 296, 297; amorous relations between her governess Lady Fleming and Henri II, 260-3; her marriage to the Dauphin, 322-5; secret treaty signed by her at Fontainebleau, 325-6

Mary Tudor

various betrothals of, 46 note; promised to France, 46, 47; marriage with Philip of Spain, 286-7; refuses to make a new treaty with France, 287; her defiance sent to Henri, 215 and note; failure to succour Calais, 319-20; death, 329

Mathurins, Church of the

147

Matignon, Maréchal de

351

Maubeuge

148

Maumont, family of

98

Maurice of Saxony

enters into an alliance with Henri II, 270, 271; marches against Charles V, 276

Maximilian, the Emperor

5, 7, 8

Maximilian, son of Ferdinand, King of the Romans

269

Mayenne, Claude de Lorraine, Marquis de (afterwards Duc d'Aumale)

see Aumale

Meaux

156, 326

Medici, Alessandro de'

79; his unpleasant character, 65; reported to be the natural son of Clement VIII, 65 note; sent to Florence, 66; governor of Florence, 73; raises a forced loan from the citizens to furnish Catherine's dowry, 79; causes his kinsman Ippolito to be poisoned, 86

Medici, Giovanni de'

80

Medici, Giuliano de'

65

Medici, Cardinal Ippolito de'

65, 73, 74, 80, 84 and note, 86

Medici, Lorenzo de', Duke of Urbino,

64 and note

Medici, Lorenzo de' (il Magnifico)

64 note, 74 note

Medici, Lucrezia de'

74 note

Medici, Nannina

81

Medici, Piero de'

64 note

Melfi, Prince of

221-22, 268

Meray, Mile, de

310

Mérindol, Vaudois of

massacre of, 232, 233

Metz

271, 273, 332, 333; taken by Montmorency, 273-4; siege of, 279- 83; retreat of the Imperialists, 283

Mézeray

on Mme. d'Étampes, 117 note, 188

Mézières, siege of

10

Michelet

117; on Diane de Poitiers, 120; on Cateau-Cambrésis, 332

Michieli, Giovanni

despatches of, 297, 346 note

Mignet (cited)

26 note

Milan, surrender of

6-7; occupied by the Papal forces, 11; holds out for Sforza, 43

Milan, Duke of

see Sforza, Francesco

Milanese, the

invaded by François I, 17 et seq.; resigned by François I, 32; invaded by Lautrec, 47; restored to Sforza by Charles V, 63; occupied by Imperialists on the death of Francesco Sforza, 95; dangled before the eyes of François I, 133, 134; bestowed upon Philip of Spain, 135; in the Treaty of Crépy, 158; François I resumes his claims to, 166

Minims, Convent of the

3, 15

Mirabello, park of

20

Moncada, Ugo de, Prior of Messina,

death of, 49 and note

Moncalieri

111

Monçon, armistice of

111

Moneins, Sieur de

murder of, at Bordeaux, 224, 225; his body exhumed and transferred to the Cathedral of Saint-André, 227

Montaigne

227

Montalcino

330

Mont-de-Marsan

François I at, 40; 60, 91

Montecuculi, Count Sebastiano di

accused of having poisoned the Dauphin François, 100; condemned and executed, 100, 101

Montepulciano

82

Montgomery, Gabriel de (Seigneur de Lorges)

339, 342 and notes, 345, 350, 351

Montgomery, Jacques, Comte de

339 note

Mont-Lambert, fort of

242; taken by Henri II, 243-4

Montluc, Blaise de

153, 202; and the camisado of Boulogne, 160, 161 note; on the Jarnac affair, 200; his defence of Siena, 290; on Saint-Quentin, 317; Colonel-general of Infantry, 326; on the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, 332

Montmédi

reduced, 142

Montmorency, Anne, Duc de

22, 26 and note; with François I at Madrid, 28, 31; demanded as hostage, 32 note; arranges the liberation of the princes at the Bidassoa, 56-9; receives Queen Eleanor at the Convent of Veyrières, 60; superintends the preparations for the marriage at Marseilles, 82; receives the Pope, 83; his devastation of Provence, 97; joined by the Dauphin Henri at Avignon, 102, 103 and note; his camp at Avignon, 103-5; justification for his strategy, 106-7; invades Artois, 107; eulogizes the conduct of the Dauphin, 108; expedition with the Dauphin into Piedmont, 109-11; relieves Turin, 110, 111; his influence on François's policy, 112; letter from Louis de Brézé to, 117 note; and the Reformation, 128, 336; his policy, 130; receives Charles V, 131-3; deluded by Charles, 133-5; his disgrace, 135-8; refusal of François I to recall him, 155, 171; restored to power, 172-3; and Henri II, 177, 178; rival to Diane, 179-83; aggrandisement of his family, 183-6; and the Jarnac affair, 201-8; at the coronation of Henri II, 211-15; dissuades Henri II from making war, 218-19; his punishment of Bordeaux, 226-8; his conduct defended by M. Decrue, 229; and the Huguenots, 233; and the War of Boulogne, 242, 243; and the peace with England, 245, 246; created duke and peer of France, 247-8; animosity of Diane towards, 263-4; at the Bed of Justice of June 12, 1552, 271; takes Metz, 273, 274; invades Alsace, 275, 276; at Ivoy, 277; carries the war into the Netherlands, 285-6, 288-9; and the battle of Renty, 288-9; campaign in Flanders, outcry against his incapacity, 289; and the royal children, 297; at the Queen's cercle, 305-6; defeated and taken prisoner at Saint-Quentin, 315, 316; Diane's alliance with, 321; letters from Henri II to, 327; interview with Henri II at Beauvais, 329; blamed for the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, 331-2; and the disgrace of Andelot, 336, 337; at the mercuriale of June 10, 1559, 337, 338; and the death of Henri II, 343, 344, 346; fall of, 349-51

Montmorency, Charles de (Seigneur de Méru)

184, 307

Montmorency, François de

184, 211 note, 245, 282, 285, 316, 326; marriage with Diane de France, 299-301; and Mlle. de Piennes, 300, 301

Montmorency, Françoise de ("la belle Fosseuse")

262 note

Montmorency, Gabriel de (Seigneur de Montbéron)

184, 307, 316

Montmorency, Guillaume de (Seigneur de Thoré)

184, 307

Montmorency, Henri de (Baron de Damville)

184, 307, 327

Montpensier, Duc de

181, 212, 337

Montpensier, Duchesse de

310

Montreuil

166, 242; siege, 153, 159

Moreau, M., banker

349

Morvilliers (French Ambassador at Venice)

219

Moulins

12, 231, 240, 241

Mühlberg, battle of

268

Murate, the Convent of the

Catherine at, 67, 80

Muscetolla, Imperial Ambassador at Rome

71

Musse, Corneille, Bishop of Bitonto

341

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Nançay, Christian de

and Mme. d'Étampes, 127 note

Nancy

274

Nantes

172, 246

Naples

18, 32, 63, 87, 158, 291, 313; siege of, 49, 50

Napoli, Cesare da

defends the pass of Susa, 109, 110

Narbonne

52, 143

Nassau, Comte de

10, 97

Nassau, Comtesse de

35

Nassau, Henri de

and the siege of Péronne, 106

Nassau, William of (Prince of Orange)

327, 340, 343

Navarre

Bonnivet in, 9, 10; Lower, 134; Spain and, 266

Navarre, King of

see Albret, Henri d', and Vendôme, Duc de

Navarre, Marguerite d'Angoulême, Queen of [sister of François I]

1 note, 2 note, 10, 27-31, 53, 90, 92, 114, 134, 183 note, 231, 307

Nemours, Duc de

282, 311 note, 341

Nero, Golden House of

250

Neuillay

318, 319

Nevers, Duc de

147, 174 note, 212, 316, 327

Nevers, Duchesse de

147

Nice

80-2; conference at, 111; siege of, 151

Niel, J. P.

on Diane de Poitiers, 117, 123, 124

Nieuport

327

Nîmes

143, 226

Noailles, French Ambassador in London

286

Norfolk, Thomas Howard, third Duke of

159 and note

Northampton, William Parr, Marquis of

French mission, 245-6

Notables, Assembly of the

335

Notre-Dame de Paris

marriage of Mary Stuart at, 322-4; the Spanish marriage, 340; funeral service of Henri II, 346

Noyon

212, 317; treaty signed at, 7

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Oise, the

281

Olivier, Chancellor

173 and note; mission to Ghent, 166; removed from office, 264

Oppède, Président d'

proceedings against, 232, 233

Orléans, Charles de Valois, Duc d', (youngest son of François I)

favourite of his father, 62, 163; at the wedding of Henri and Catherine de' Medici, 83; his establishment, 88; and Catherine de' Medici, 89; Charles V's offer of the Milanese to, 95-6; assumes the title of Duc d'Orléans, 102; appointed Lieutenant-general in the north, 109, 111 note; his relations with his brother Henri, 125, 134, 136; receives Charles V, 131, 132; marriage proposals, 133, 134, 158; compromises the success of the French in Luxembourg, 141, 142; and Mme. d'Étampes, 154; death of, 166; obsequies, 189, 193; accusation of Vieilleville and Saint-André against, 191-193

Orléans, Duc d' [Charles IX]

294-5

Orléans, Dunois, the Bastard of

80

Orléans, Louis Philippe, Duc d'

349

Orléans

reception of Charles V at, 131

Orsini, Alfonsina

65

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Pacheco, Doña Agnese (dame d'honneur to Queen Eleanor)

98

"Paix des Dames," la

50

Palissy, Bernard

250

Palmer, Sir Henry

243

Palmer, Sir Thomas

238

Paradin

132 note; relates story of the baptism of François II, 147-8; on the gabeleurs, cited, 224

Paris

approach of the armies of the League, 14; solemn entry of Charles V into, 132 and note, 133; at Notre-Dame, 133; panic on the advance of Charles in 1544, 156, 157; first visit of Henri II to, 189; state entry of Henri II and Catherine into, 231; news of Saint-Quentin received at, 316, 317; Oriental masquerade in, 320; marriage of François II, 322-5; fêtes at the Palais de Justice, 324; introduction of the Inquisition, 335, 336; the tournament of the Rue Saint-Antoine, 341-3

Paris, Parlement of

protest against the Concordat, 6-7; presentation to Charles V, 132; the Chambre ardente, 233, 234; dismissal of Lizet, 264; Bed of Justice of 1552, 271; creation of counsellors, 288 note; and the Inquisition, 235-7; mercuriales, 337; the assembly at the Grands-Augustins, 337-8

Parma

Paul III and, 267; war of, 268, 269, 278-9

Passau, Diet of

276; Agreement of, 278

Passerini, Cardinal

and Catherine de' Medici, 66

Patenostrier, maître d'armes

194

Paul III, Pope

and the Pontifical jewels, 78; repudiates engagements of Clement VII, 87; speech of Charles V before, 96; and the truce of Monçon, 111; and the conference at Nice, 111; and Pierluigi Farnese, 217; his treaty with France, 218, 219; death, 276

Paul IV, Pope

election of, 290; and the affair of François de Montmorency and Mlle. de Piennes, 301; intrigues with the Guises, 312; Treaty of Fontainebleau, 313; peace with Spain, 314-15; and the Inquisition, 334

Pavia

siege of, 18-20; battle of, 20-3; sack of, 47; French envoys killed by soldiers from the garrison of, 139

Pedraza, citadel of

the princes imprisoned in, 52-5

Peñaloza, Spanish officer

36; summons François I to fulfil the conditions of the Treaty of Madrid, 40

Penthièvre, Comte de

see Étampes, Duc d'

Penthièvre, Duc de

Anet ceded to, 348

Perpignan

52; siege of, 143

Péronne

siege of, 106

Pescara, Marchese di

account of, 14 and note -15; and Bayard, 15; and the invasion of Provence, 17; at Lodi, 18; his harangue to the starving Spaniards before the battle of Pavia, 20 note; at Pavia, 21; in Lombardy, 43

Pestilence at Naples

49 and note

Petite Bande, ladies of the

90, 128

Philibert, Emmanuel

see Savoy, Duke of

Philip, Duke of Savoy

22 note

Philip, Landgrave of Hesse

268, 269

Philip II of Spain

134; invested with the Milanese, 135; left to govern with a Council of Regency, 149; marries Mary Tudor, 286-7; accession of, 291; Paul IV makes peace with, 314, 315; and the siege of Saint-Quentin, 315-17; takes Noyon, 317; his letter to Granvelle, 329-30; marries Mme. Élisabeth, 330, 339-41; and the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, 330; his position after, 333

Piacenza

assassination of Pierluigi Farnese at, 218

Picardy

war in, 11; the English troops withdrawn from, 25; invaded by the Comtes de Nassau and de Rœux, 97; position of the French troops in, 106; invasion by the Comte de Rœux, 281-2; Imperialist raid into, 289

Pickering, Sir William (English Ambassador at the French Court)

his impressions of the Château of Anet, 253

Piedmont

invaded by François I, 96; Imperialists in, 109-11; Enghien in, 152-3; Henri II's journey to, 217, 219; base of French operations, 1551, 268; French possessions in, 290

Piennes, Mlle. de

romance of, 300-1, 309, 313 note

Pilon, Germain

345

Pinerolo

97, 106, 330

Pinkie Cleugh

Scottish defeat at, 237-8

Pisseleu, Anne de

see Étampes, Duchesse d'

Pisseleu, Charles de [Bishop of Condom]

94

Pisseleu, Guillaume de [Seigneur d'Heilly]

90

Pisseleu, Jean de

188

Pisseleu, Louise de

195

Pizzighitone, citadel of

24

Poggio a Cajano, villa of

66, 81

Poitiers, Diane de, Duchesse de Valentinois

32 note, 73; childhood, 113, 114; marriage of, 114; Brântome's anecdote of, 116, 117; conclusions of Georges Guiffrey, 117, 118; accusation of Lorenzo Contarini concerning her and François I, 118, 119; her supposed love-letters to François I, 119, 120; her relations with the poet Clément Marot considered, 121-22; her respect for her husband's memory, 122-23; beginning of her liaison with the Dauphin Henri, 123-5; her influence over Henri, 125-6, 176-9, 248; her quarrel with Mme. d'Étampes, 126-9, 135, 167, 175, 176, 187, 196; and the Reformation, 128, 336; her relations with the Dauphin viewed with disapproval by François I, 136 and note; the prince's infatuation for, 163, 308; despatch of Marino Cavalli concerning, 167-9; receives the jewels of Mme. d'Étampes, 174; Saint-Mauris's impressions of, 177-9; and Montmorency, 179-83, 248, 263-4; Vieilleville's gift to, 186; and the Jarnac scandal, 196; present at the duel of La Châtaigneraie and Jarnac, 202; glorification of, at Lyons, 230-1; and the Protestants, 233; insulted by a Huguenot prisoner whom she has questioned, 234; letter to the Maréchal d'Humières concerning Mary Stuart, 241; and the Guises, 248, 271; receives the Château of Chenonceaux, 248; created Duchesse de Valentinois, 248, 249; her château of Anet, 249-53; devotion of Henri II to, 253; his letter to her, 254-6; her sentiments towards him, 256-8; relations with Catherine de' Medici, 258-60, 304, 305, 310; alliance with Montmorency, 321; and the Dauphin's marriage, 321, 322; anxious for the return of Montmorency from captivity, 327; and the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, 331-2; disgrace of, 346; death of, 347; her will, 347-8; desecration of her tomb in 1795, 348, 349

Poitiers, Guillaume de

113, 114

Poitiers, Jean de

see Saint-Vallier

Poitiers, Louis de

249 note

Poitiers

226; reception of Charles V, 131

Pompadour, Mme. de

93

Pont-à-Mousson

taking of, 273

Pontguyon, Madeleine de

the scandal concerning her and her stepson, Guy Chabot, Seigneur de Jarnac, the cause of the latter's celebrated duel with La Châtaigneraie, 195-8

Poyet, Chancellor

136

Poynings, Sir John

at Boulogne, 159, 161

Praet, Louis van (Minister of Charles V)

37, 40-2, 56, 59

Pragmatic Sanction, the

6 note; and the Concordat of 1516, 6 and note

Prat, Chancellor du

39; and the sequestration of the Connétable de Bourbon's estates, 13; debases the coinage, 57

Primaticcio

his work at Anet, 250, 252 note

"Prisoner's Peace," the

331

Protestants, the

persecution by Louise of Savoy, 25 note; and Diane de Poitiers, 116; Henri II's treatment of, 232; confiscated property of, 249; fresh persecution after the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, 333-9; establishment of Reformed churches in Paris, 336; rapid progress of, 336

Provence

invaded by Charles V, 97, 102-6; Turkish fleet off the coast of, 151; benefices, right of collation to, abandoned, 233

Puymoreau

leader of the insurrection against the gabelle in Saintonge, 224

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Rabutin

on the French army, 272 note

Radier, Dreux du (cited)

114, 117, 122

Rambouillet

death of François at, 171

Ramsden, banker

349

Ranke (cited)

106

Ravenna

63; battle of, 11 note

Raymond, Président

174 note

Reformation

in Germany, 10; in France, 128

Reggio

burning of, 151

Regnier de la Planche (cited)

39, 116, 117 note

René, the Bastard of Savoy

death of, 22

Renée de France

5, 7, 231

Renty, battle of

288-9

Requeña

27

Reumont, Alfred von (cited)

78, 79, 85

Rheims

François I, at, 149; coronation of Henri II at, 210-16

Richmond, Henry Fitzroy, Duke of

69

Rincon, Antonio

139

Roche-sur-Yon, Charles, Prince de la

181, 202, 282, 293, 338

Rochefoucauld, La

282, 316

Rochelle

revolt against the gabelle, 223

Rochepot, Baron de

184

Rodemachern

capture of, 277

Rodolfi, Cardinal

86

Rœux, Comte de

97, 281-2

Rohan, Mlle. Françoise de

scandal concerning, 310-11

Rohan, René de

310 note

Rohan-Nemours scandal, the

310-11

Rome

sack of, 44-6, 66

Ronsard, Pierre

3, 295, 307, 325

Roscoff, port of

240 and note

Rosso, Giovanni del

250

Rouen

state entry of Henri II into, 253

Roussel, M. Pierre

his monograph on Anet, 250

Roussillon

invasion of, 141, 143, 144, 268

Rovere, Francesco Maria della

64 note

Rovère, Jérôme de la (Bishop of Toulon)

345 note

Roye, Charles, Seigneur de (Comte de Roncy)

178 note

Ruble, Alphonse de

on the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, 332, 333

Rucellai, Palla

81

Ruhl, the deputy

and the Holy Ampulla, 211 note

Russell, Sir John (afterwards first Duke of Bedford)

letter from Rome, 69 and note

Rysbank, fort at Boulogne, the

318

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Sacre of Henri II, the

account of, 210-16

Saint-André, Cathedral of, at Bordeaux,

227

Saint-André, Jacques Albon, Seigneur de

164 and note, 165, 173, 202, 213, 214; favours bestowed upon by Henri II, 184, 185; his rapacity, 185, 186; conversation with Henri II at the funeral procession of François I, 190, 193; and Diane de Poitiers, 230; his mission to England, 245; in Flanders, 288; taken prisoner at Saint-Quentin, 316; takes part in unofficial pourparlers with a view to peace, 327; one of the French plenipotentiaries at Cercamp and Cateau-Cambrésis, 329

Saint-Antoine-des-Champs, church of

132

Saint-Arnoul, Abbey of

destruction, 280

St. Bartholomew, massacre of

263, 307, 350

Saint-Calais de Blois, chapel of,

4 and note

Saint-Cloud

lying-in-state of François I at, 172, 189-90

Saint-Denis

4; visit of Charles V to, 133; the remains of François I, of the Dauphin François, and of the Duc d'Orléans conveyed to, 189-93; Catherine crowned at, 231; Alva and his suite received at, 340; Henri II buried at, 346

Saint-Dizier

siege and fall of, 153, 154

Sainte-Beuve

on the supposed love-letters of Diane de Poitiers to François I, 120

Sainte-Marthe, Charles de

91

Saint-François de Paule

3 and note

Saint-Germain-en-Laye

3, 170, 171; the duel of La Châtaigneraie and Jarnac at, 199-209; arrival of Mary Stuart at, 240

Saint-Jean-de-Luz

36, 39, 58; arrival of Queen Eleanor and the princes at, 59

Saint-Jean-de-Maurienne

state entry of Henri II into, 221 and note

Saint-Laurent, battle of

see Saint-Quentin

Saint Malo, fortress of

172

Saint-Mauris (Imperial Ambassador at the Court of France)

despatches, 171 note, 175 and notes -6

Saintonge

229; revolt against the gabelle, 22-35; pacification of, 226

Saint-Paul, church of

344

Saint-Peter's

plundered, 44

Saint-Pierre, Chartres

250

Saint-Pol

Imperialist attack on, 107

Saint-Pol, Comte de

22 and note, 32 note, 164; defeat at Landriano, 50; advance on Savoy, 96; sent to Roussillon, 144

Saint-Pol, Comtesse de

147

Saint-Quentin

133 note; battle of, 315, 316; Coligny's defence of, 317; taking of, 317

Saint-Remy, Abbey of

the Holy Ampulla at, 211 and note, 213, 214

Saint-Remy, Sieur de

279

Saint-Thierry-lez-Rheims, Abbey of

186

Saint-Vallier, Jean de Poitiers, Seigneur de

113, 115, 116

Saint-Venant

107

Saint-Victor, Abbaye de, Marseilles

83

Saint-Vincent (Imperial Ambassador at the Court of France)

134

Saintes, Charles de Bourbon, Bishop of

181, 212

Salt tax

see Gabelle

Saluzzo, Marchese di

86, 97

Saluzzo, Marquisate of

222, 330

Salviati, Cardinal

at Marseilles, 86

Salviati, Jacopo

74

Salviati, Maria

guardian of Catherine de' Medici, 80, 81

San-Angelo, Castle of

flight of Clement VII to, 44, 46

San-Angelo, Marchese di Civita

21 and note

Sancerre, Comte de

153-4

Sanguin, Antoine (Cardinal de Melun)

93-4, 128

Sanguin, Mlle.

91

San-Sebastian, fortress of

38

San Severino, Grand Equerry

22

Santa-Caterina, Convent of

Catherine de' Medici at, 67-8

Santa-Lucia, Convent of

66, 68

Sault, Du, the brothers

225-7

Sauval (cited)

117, 320

Savona, port of

49

Savoy

deserts the Imperial cause, 47; François demands passage through, 95; invasion of, 96; journey of Henri II through, 221; retention of by France, 266

Savoy, Duke of (Charles III)

objects to the proposed interview between Clement VII and François I at Nice, 81-2; refuses to accede to François's demands, 95; deprived of his dominions, 112, 134, 151, 158; death, 285

Savoy, Duke of (Emmanuel Philibert)

commands the Imperialists, 285; pursuit of the French, 288; marries Mme. Marguerite, 307, 330, 339, 341; expedition into the Netherlands, 315; his desire to reach Paris, 316; and Calais, 319; on the Authie, 328; Savoy restored,  329, 330, 333; at the tournament of the Rue Saint-Antoine, 341-3

Saxony

revolt in, 268

Schmalkalde, League of

166, 268, 270-1

Scotland

The Guises' project of a marriage between Mary Stuart and the Dauphin, 237; invasion of Somerset and battle of Pinkie, 237; Mary Stuart's hand offered to the Dauphin, 237; again invaded, 238; French expedition despatched to, 238; Convention of Haddington, 238; Mary Stuart sent to France, 239, 240; futile French assault on Haddington, 242; and the Treaty of Boulogne, 244; and the secret treaty of Fontainebleau, 325; and the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, 331

Sedan

illness of Henri II at, 277

Segni (cited)

67

Segovia, forest of

28

Selve, Jean de, First President of the Parlement of Paris

27, 30, 33

Seraine, Abbe (cure of Saint-Remy at Rheims)

211 note

Sforza, Francesco, Duke of Milan

joins the league against France, 6, 12; deprived of the Milanese, 32; and Charles V, 33; and the Holy League of Cognac, 42-3; capitulation, 44; his dominions restored by Charles V, 63; suitor for the hand of Catherine de' Medici, 70-2; death, 87, 95; his execution of Maraviglia, 94

Sichel, Miss Edith (cited)

82 note, 146 note

Siena

defence of, 289; republic of, 313

Siena

success in Tuscany, 284

Simeoni, Gabriello

his description of the Château of Anet, 249

Sismondi (cited)

158, 169; on the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, 332

Sittard

Imperialist defeat at, 148

Soissons, sack of

157

Soissons, Bishop of

174 note

"Soldier's Bible," the

153

Soliman II, Sultan of Turkey

alliance with François I, 95, 112, 139, 141

Somerset, the Protector

and the treaty of 1546, 236, 237; defeats the Scots at Pinkie Cleugh, 237-8; fresh invasion of Scotland, 238,  239; fall of, 244

Sorel, Agnes

114

Soriano, Antonio (cited)

69 and note

Speyer, Chamber of

message to Henri II, 276

Stafford, Sir Thomas

315

Strasburg

refuses to admit the French, 275

Strozzi, Clarice

65-7

Strozzi, Filippo, banker

65; advance to Clement VII, 77-8; marriage arrangements for Catherine de' Medici, 81; his remark, 87

Strozzi, Piero

at Metz, 279; defeated at Mariano, 289, 290

Stuart, John

see Albany, Duke of

Stuart, Lord James

239

Suffolk, Richard de la Pole, Duke of

at Pavia, 21 and note, death, 22

Susa, pass of

affair of, 109-10; crossed by Henri, 221

Switzerland

treaty with François I, 6; French negotiations with, 226 and note

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Tais, Grand-master of Artillery

164; and the camisado of Boulogne, 160-1

Tappe, maître d'armes

194

Tanaro, the

111

Tarragona, Archbishop of

26

Tartas

Queen Eleanor at, 60

Tavannes

192 and note, 202, 307; on the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, 332

Taylor, Dr. John, English Ambassador in France

his despatches, 37 and note -8, 39

Termes, Paul de

143, 144, 327, 328

Thérouenne, siege of

107-8; storming of, 285

Thionville

282, 283; taken by Guise, 327

Thou, De

132; cited, on the punishment of Bordeaux, 227 notes; on the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis, 332

"Three Bishoprics," the

271, 290, 330

Throckmorton, Nicholas

his despatches, 338-41, 343 and note -4

Tobio (goldsmith)

86

Toledo

conference held at, 26, 29-31; marriage of François I and Eleanor at, 56

Toledo, Peace of

35

Torrejon, Castle of

35

Toul

271, 273, 274, 281, 283, 332, 333

Toulon

102; Turkish fleet at, 151 and note

Toulouse, Parlement of

and the Peace of Crépy, 159

Tour d'Auvergne, Anne de la

64 note

Tour d'Auvergne, Madeleine de la

64, 77

Tournai

158; recovered by France, 7; siege of, 10-11

Tournelles, Hôtel de

304, 340; death of Henri at, 343-5

Tournon, Cardinal de

arrangement for the ransom of the princes, 56-9; and the marriage of Catherine de' Medici, 60, 75-6; shares power with Montmorency, 137; and François I, 166-7, 171, 172; sent to Rome, 173

Tours

226

Trent, Council of

267, 268, 276

Trivulzio, Cardinal

323

Trompette, Château, at Bordeaux

225, 227

Troyes, Bishop of [Antoine Caraccioli]

212 and note; his account of the death of Henri II, 341 and note

Tuileries, the

250

Tunis

French prisoners in, 52 note; taken by Charles V, 95

Turenne, Vicomte de

46 note, 56, 316

Turin

97, 106, 330; François I at, 96; invested by the Imperialists, 109; relief of, 109-11; reception of Henri II at, 221-2

Turkey

and Louise of Savoy, 25-26; and François I, 95, 112, 139, 140, 141; victory at Essek, 111; French alliance renewed, 284; ravages of the Franco-Turkish fleet, 290; the Turks in Hungary, 43; and Austria, 63; Montmorency's policy towards, 130

Tuscany

coasts of, ravaged by Barbarossa, 151; the Spanish expelled from, 284; loss of Siena, 289, 290

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Uffizi Museum, Florence

the Medici casket in, 79

University of Paris

protests against the Concordat, 6-7

Urbino, Duchy of

69, 70, 77, 84

Urbino, Duke of

fails to relieve Milan, 44; defends Florence, 45

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Vaise

230

Val di Bagno

45

Valence

99; François I at, 97

Valenciennes

133; Charles V at, 10, 286

Valentinois, Duchesse de

see Poitiers, Diane de

Valenza

314, 330

Varillas

on Mme. d'Étampes, 187

Vasari

painting by, 85

Vassy

massacre at, 350

Vaucelles, truce of

290

Vaudémont, Comte de

and Catherine de' Medici, 69 and note; regent of Lorraine, 274, 277

Vaudois, massacre of the

139 note, 232, 233

Vauhusant, Abbey of

219

Vega, Garcilasso de la

death, 105 note

Vendôme, Cardinal de

302 note

Vendôme, Cesar de

348

Vendôme, Duc de [Antoine de Bourbon]

22, 25, 32 note, 147, 150, 151, 159, 173, 181, 212, 323, 326; defends the Flemish frontier, 142; offers to champion Jarnac, 200, 201; his marriage with Jeanne d'Albret, 231; sent into Picardy, 281; recovers Hesdin, 284; in Flanders, 288

Vendôme, Duchesse de

see Albret, Jeanne d'

Venice

François I and, 5, 7; Louise of Savoy and, 25; and Charles V, 33; the "Holy League" of Cognac, 42

Venieri,(Venetian Ambassador in France)

despatches of, 119

Venloo on the Meuse

150

Verdun

271, 273, 277, 281, 283, 332, 333

Vergne, Louis de la

114

Verlana, Marquis of

52-5

Versailles

paintings at, 85

Vertus, Charlotte, Comtesse de

175

Vésale, André

344

Veyrières, Convent of

60

Vicentino, Valerio

work of, 79

Vieilleville, Maréchal de

Mémoires cited, 202, 266, 341; anecdote of the "bear's skin," 164; on the favourites of Henri II, 185-6; with Henri II at the funeral procession of François I, 190-3; on the punishment of Bordeaux, 228; on the Huguenots, 234-5; on the death of Henri II, 344

Vienne, Charlotte de, Dame Curton

296

Villalpando, fortress of

51

Villanuova d'Asti

330

Villars, Boyvin du

on the French army, 272-3

Villegaignon

and Mary Stuart, 239; galleys of, 242, 287

Villeroy (financier)

173

Villepreux

171

Vincennes

132, 172

Visconti, Valentina

5

Vitry

review of the army at, 272, 273

Vittoria

36, 38, 39, 56

Vivonne, André de

194

Vivonne, François de

see La Châtaigneraie

Vogelsberger (captain of landsnechts)

267

Vouté, Jean

verses of, 127

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Warwick, Earl of

policy towards France, 244

Weissembourg

Henri II at, 276

Wentworth, Lord

319

Westminster, Treaty of

terms, 46, 47

Wilton, Lord Grey de

319

Wolsey, Cardinal

9; secret treaty with Charles V at Bruges, 11; rejects peace proposals of Clement VII, 16; negotiations with François I, 17; Taylor's despatches to, 37 and note -8, 39 note; and the Treaty of Madrid, 42; his hope regarding François I and Charles V, 48

Worms

assembly of the Rhine princes at, 276

Wotton (English Ambassador in France)

286

A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  R  S  T  U  V  W  Y

Yuste, monastery of

291

Yvon

reduced, 142

Other Kindle Publications

by Linda Ellis

(kindle@afamilystory.co.uk)

Inspired to learn more about the sixteenth century by the wonderfully literate series of books about Francis Crawford of Lymond by Dorothy Dunnett, I seek out material which was written during or earlier than this period, as well as later works which illustrate particular aspects of Renaissance life, so that I can make them more widely available via the Kindle.

Below, you will find:

- works of history relating to England, France, Scotland and Russia, including genealogy, biography, original letters, documents and other primary sources, together with books about travel, duelling, the knights of Malta, Irish Bards . . .

- literature, including poetry and early fiction.

- Christian works, including the Geneva Psalms

All these books have been carefully formatted and proofread throughout, but if you spot an error that has slipped through, please contact me at the above address and a corrected version will be made available as quickly as possible.

If you are interested in seeing portraits, illustrations, maps, jewellery and other items relating to the sixteenth century, please have a look at my Pinterest page:

https://www.pinterest.com/kindleifier

where you will find a growing collection.

The Brood of False Lorraine

The power behind several thrones - and if they were not behind the throne, they were breathing heavily in the wings, threatening to unseat its occupant - the Dukes and Cardinals de Guise were a hugely influential family in 16th and early 17th century France.

The story of this family gives an intimate insight into the reigns of François I, Henri II, his sons François II (husband of Mary Queen of Scots), Charles IX and Henri III, and to a lesser extent that of Henri IV.

Along the way are detailed accounts of the St Bartholomew's Day massacre, of the horrors of the French Wars of Religion, of assassinations, murder and revenge, of plots with England, Spain and Rome. It's a story of courage and cowardice, of greed and arrogance. It overlaps with and continues the same author's "Henri II: His Court and Times"

Memoirs of Henri IV

One of the best loved kings of France, Henri IV brought a measure of peace, prosperity and strong leadership to a country that had almost been riven apart under the weak reigns of three of Henri II's sons: François II, Charles IX and Henri III.

"Our" Henri suffered imprisonment and threats to his life; became a leader of the Protestant forces in the Wars of Religion; succeeded to the crown of France, but was not widely accepted until he reverted to his baptismal Catholic faith. He then took firm control of the administration and revenues that had so disastrously been abused. Energetic and courageous, intelligent and good-humoured, his life was cut short by assassination.

Some Account of the Stuarts of Aubigny in France

The Stuarts of Aubigny, distinguished themselves in all the great French wars of the 15th and 16th centuries and were inseparably connected with the Scots Men-at-Arms and the Scottish Archers of the King's Body Guard, or Scots Guards. In telling the stories of the 11 successive Seigneurs of Aubigny the author tells of the gallant deeds of the Scots Guards and Scots Men-at-Arms, of the relationships between Scotland, France and England, and of some of the actions of the Lennox family of this period, which includes Matthew Earl of Lennox, and his son Henry Lord Darnley who married Mary Queen of Scots.

Blaise de Monluc: Selections from ... the Commentaires

On a fine morning in the early years of the sixteenth century, a young Gascon mounted upon a Spanish horse, might have been seen riding forth from his father's estate of Monluc, bound for the Italian wars. 50 years later, the same adventurer, now a marshal of France and an ex-Governor of Guyenne, 'maimed by wounds in almost all his limbs,' sat down to dictate the story of his adventures. A story long recognised in France as not only a valuable contribution to history but as one of the best books of adventure that have ever been written.

The Story of the Chevalier Bayard

Bayard was the "Galahad" of France - with the difference that Bayard was a historical person. Born in 1476, he became a man-at-arms at 17 and within a year he distinguished himself in his first experience of war. His skills and reputation grew until his presence was regarded by both the French and their adversaries as worth 2000 soldiers.  Always first in the attack, and last to retreat, generous and honourable, Bayard became known as Le chevalier sans peur et sans reproche (Spotless and Fearless). He was so highly regarded that François I, when he was King, asked Bayard to knight him.  This biography was written three years after his death by someone who had witnessed many of the events it described, who identified himself only as "The Loyal Servant".

Duelling Stories of the Sixteenth Century

Pierre de Bourdeille, Seigneur de Brantôme, (c.1540-1614) was a French soldier who came into contact with many of the leading soldiers and courtiers of his day. He was an inveterate gossip, endlessly fascinated by the minutiae of duelling - the challenges, the weapons, the customs and the laws. Life was cheap, and many of the anecdotes he relates tell of treachery, deceit and downright murder.

This is not a manual of sword-fighting, though it contains a number of illustrations from early manuals, but it is an illuminating picture of sixteenth century life in France.

Historical Notes on the Lennox or Darnley Jewel

The Darnley Jewel was made for Margaret Douglas, Countess of Lennox, in memory of her husband, Matthew Lennox, killed while he was Regent for his grandson, James VI of Scotland. This remarkable Jewel contains 3 large enamelled panels, and 2 smaller hidden ones, which are packed with allegorical images, verses and mottoes. Historian Patrick Fraser Tytler undertook this interpretation of the Jewel's secrets at the command of Queen Victoria.

Lord Herries Memoirs

John Maxwell, Lord Herries in right of his wife Agnes, was a staunch, though not uncritical, supporter of Mary Queen of Scots and an eye-witness of many of the key events of the time. He was described in a letter to Lord Cecil, Secretary to Queen Elizabeth, as "the wysest of the wholle faction . . . the lykelyest and moost dangerous man to inchaunte you." His memoirs provide a fascinating view of the motivations and actions of the principal players in the tragedy of Mary Queen of Scots.

Early Sixteenth Century Lyrics

Thomas Wyatt the elder and Henry Earl of Surrey were leading lights of English poetry in the early renaissance period. This collection also includes poems by George Buleyn, W Cornysh, Nicholas Grimoald, Guido Guinicelli, Rychard Hattfield, Henry VIII, John Heywood, Anthony Lee, Sir Thomas More, Sir Thomas Phelyppis and Edwarde Somerset.

The Douglas Book,

1: Douglas Memoirs

by William Fraser

One of the most powerful families in Scotland, the Douglases were active on both sides of the border: sometimes as Wardens of the Marches, sometimes leading raids deep into England, sometimes allied with the English against their own monarch. One, "Good Sir James", was the close friend and companion of Robert the Bruce. Their stories are inextricably linked even beyond Bruce's death, for Sir James was killed carrying out Bruce's last commission to him: to take his heart to Palestine.

The Lennox

by William Fraser

Probably the best known scion of the Earls of Lennox was Henry, Lord Darnley, son of Matthew, 12th Earl, and his wife Margaret Douglas, niece of Henry VIII. The memoirs of these, their relationships with Mary Queen of Scots and with four monarchs of England make up the final third of the book. The first section relates the history of the Lennox area: lands, islands, and castles - in particular Dumbarton Castle, of major significance in Scottish history. The central part of the book features biographies of the eight earls of the original race, followed by those of their eventual successors, the Stewarts of Lennox.

The Scotts of Buccleuch

by William Fraser

The Scotts of Buccleuch have been important figures in the history of both Scotland and England. The memoirs cover the leading members of this family from the late 13th century to the middle of the 19th century, giving a fascinating insight into many events during that long period, such as the rescue of Kinmont Willie from Carlisle Castle (which almost caused a war), and the rebellion of the Duke of Monmouth (husband of Lady Anna Scott).

Navigations, Peregrinations & Voyages

Nicolas de Nicolay travelled to Turkey with French Ambassador d'Aramon in 1550. They visited Malta shortly after the Turkish attack and the loss of Gozo. Sailing after the Turkish fleet the Ambassador tried to persuade them to abandon their assault on Tripoli, but was instead forced to witness the siege and fall, before he could leave. They took the governor of Tripoli and the remaining knights back to Malta, only to find the Ambassador blamed for the surrender. They resumed their journey to Constantinople leaving the knights to squabble.

Nicolay describes the places, dangers and curious customs they met on their long journey; Constantinople, its people and practices, from bathing to wrestling, from the Children of Tribute to the messengers who ran, shod with iron like horses.  Nicolay is a significant character in "Disorderly Knights" by Dorothy Dunnett, much of which takes place during the attacks on Malta, Gozo and Tripoli.

Muscovy in the Sixteenth Century

Contains books and documents, mostly contemporary, about the early contacts between England and Russia:

"The Discovery of Muscovy", describing the first expedition to Muscovy, drawn from information received directly from Richard Chancellor, the pilot.

"The Booke of the Great and Mighty Emperor of Russia ...", a report written by Chancellor himself. It is followed by documents relating to the early years of the Company of Merchant Adventurers, including a description of the visit to England of the first Russian Ambassador, Osep Nepeja.

"The English in Muscovy during the Sixteenth Century" was written by the Baron de Bogoushevsky sometime before 1878. It gives a different perspective on the relationships between England and Russia and includes transcriptions of many letters between the rulers of the two countries.

The Origin and Early History of the Russia or Muscovy Company

During the reign of Edward VI a group of merchants financed an expedition to attempt a north east passage to China and the East Indies. They sent out three ships one of which reached the coast of Russia.

The book takes the story of the Muscovy Company through to 1610, and concludes with a brief history of the establishment of the Whale Fishery.

A Diurnal of Remarkable Occurrents that have passed within the Country of Scotland since the Death of King James IV till the year MDLXXV: From a manuscript of the sixteenth century

A primary source of Scottish history covering the period from 1513 to 1575, by a contemporary writer.

Part of Vertot's History of the Knights of Malta covering events which had a major impact across the known world of the mid-sixteenth century. Under successive Grand Masters the Order fought with Barbarossa, Dragut, any corsairs they could find, and, sometimes, with each other. They captured Tripoli, but failed to fortify it, left Gozo to fall to the Turks, and made a disastrous expedition to Zoara which cost almost every man. At the same time they were renowned for great courage and fortitude, and produced many outstanding commanders: Leone Strozzi, de Villegagnon, Romegas and la Valette, among others. The book closes with the fall of the fort of St Elmo during the great siege of Malta in 1565.

Devotees of Dorothy Dunnett's Lymond Chronicles will find here the background to much of "Disorderly Knights", and for part of "Pawn in Frankincense."

Early Popular Poetry of Scotland & the Northern Border

Poems taken from sources up to the end of the sixteenth century, covering a wide range of styles and subjects - historical, moral, fantastic, and downright comic.

Original Letters

Series 1 Volume 1

From the reigns of Henry V, Edward IV, Henry VII and Henry VIII. The Letters cover the pursuit of Perkin Warbeck, the battle of Flodden, Border forays and the use of spies and bribery; the suspicious death of a Cardinal; preparations for the Field of the Cloth of Gold; the election of the Emperor; marriages and christenings, debts and sickness, and letters upon small, personal matters.

Original Letters

Series 2 Volume 1

Letters from the reigns of Henry IV, Henry V, Henry VI, Edward IV, Richard III, Henry VII and Henry VIII, covering a great range of subjects: from domestic rebellions to foreign news, from shipbuilding to jousting, from marriages to royal births.

Original Letters

Series 2 Volume 2

Letters from the reigns of Henry VIII, Edward VI, Mary and Elizabeth I; correspondence of Cardinal Wolsey, Thomas Cromwell, William Cecil, the Monarchs, members of the nobility, merchants and schoolmasters.

Includes letters from Lady Jane Grey and youthful letters from Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth, and Henry Darnley.

A Collection of Historical Documents

Illustrative of the Reigns of the Tudor and Stuart Sovereigns

Letters and documents by, among others, Henry VII, Henry VIII (including love letters to Anne Boleyn), Thomas More, James I, and Charles I.

The Whole Booke of Psalmes

Originally printed in 1618, this takes the psalms from the "Geneva Bible" of 1560 and turns them into verse. As well as the music, this volume includes the complete prose text of the psalms, with each verse and line in the two versions being linked for easy reference.

The First Prayer Book of King Edward VI 1549

The forerunner of the Book of Common Prayer, this was the first publication to give the complete liturgy and bible readings in English.

It offers a fascinating insight into a period when the rules and rituals of the church had a major impact on people's lives.

The Battle Of Flodden Field

The ballads and chronicles that tell of the devastating battle of 1513 that robbed the Scots of their king and leading members of noble and common families alike.

Includes: Lamentation of King James IV; The Bataile of Brampton, or Floddon Feld; Skelton, Laureate, against the Scottes; The Complaint of King James of Scotland; Epitaph of Sir Marmaduke Constable, in Flamborough Church; Song on the Victory of Floddon Field; The Laird of Muirhead; The Flowers of the Forest; Ara Heroibus qui in Prælio apud Fluidonem occubuerunt; Letter from Pope Leo X. to Henry VIII; Pitscottie's Account of the Battle of Floddon; Hall's Account of the Battle; Ballade of the Bataile of Floddon.

Scottish Poetry of the 16th Century

The poetry of Sir David Lyndsay, John Bellenden, King James the Fifth, Sir Richard Maitland, Alexander Scot and Alexander Montgomerie.

Historical Memoirs of the Irish Bards

by Joseph C Walker

An exploration of the history of the Irish Bards from pre-Christian times to the middle of the eighteenth century, looking at the times and the society in which the bards lived as well as the lives, skills and characters of the bards themselves.

Reliques of Ancient English Poetry

by Thomas Percy

An extensive collection of early English and Scottish ballads and songs. This edition contains the original 9 books, a substantial Appendix containing further ballads and poems, and a Glossary.

The Harmony of Birds

The Harmony of Birds is a charming poem from the middle of the sixteenth century, which survived the centuries in just one copy until the Percy Society published a transcription in 1843.

The Lyfe of Robert the Deuyll

A curious medieval French story, translated into English and printed by Wynkyn de Worde in the early part of the sixteenth century.

Aucassin and Nicolette is a charming medieval French chantefable, or song-story.

This edition contains the medieval French version edited by Gaston Paris, with a translation into English by Eugene Mason, plus a nineteenth century French version by Alexandre Bida, with an English translation by A Rodney MacDonough.

The History of the Kings of England

Simeon of Durham's chronicle remains an important source for medieval history.

Though its focus is on England, in particular the north of England, the History also ranges over events in Wales, Scotland, Europe and the Holy Land, between 616 and 1129.

History of Scotland, vol 2

by Patrick Fraser Tytler

Contents:

1. David the Second, 1346-1370

2. An Historical Inquiry into the Ancient State of Scotland (General appearance of the country, Distinct races in Scotland, Ancient parliament of Scotland, Early commerce and navigation, State of the early Scottish church, Sport and amusements of ancient Scotland)

3. Robert the Second, 1370-1390

4. Robert the Third, 1390-1424

5. Historical remarks on the death of Richard the Second

6. Notes and Illustrations

History of Scotland, vol 3

by Patrick Fraser Tytler

Contents:

1. Regency of Albany, 1407-1424

2. James the First, 1424-1437

3. James the Second, 1436-1460

4. James the Third, 1460-1488

5. James the Fourth, 1488-1497

6. Notes and Illustrations

History of Scotland, vol 4

by Patrick Fraser Tytler

Contents:

1: James the Fourth (cont.), 1497-1513

2: James the Fifth, 1513-1524

3: James the Fifth, 1524-1528

4: James the Fifth, 1528-1542

5: Mary, 1542-1546

6. Mary, 1546-1554

7. Notes and Illustrations

History of Scotland, vol 5

by Patrick Fraser Tytler

Contents:

1: Mary (cont.) 1554-1559

2: Mary 1559-1560

3: Mary 1560-1561

4: Mary 1561-1565

5: From the marriage of Mary with Darnley to her marriage with Bothwell, 1565-1567

6. From Mary's marriage with Bothwell to the election of Regent Moray, 1567

7. Proofs and Illustrations

Under His Shadow and

Kept for the Master's Use

"Under His Shadow: the Last Poems" contains the manuscript works left at the death of Frances Ridley Havergal.

"Kept for the Master's Use" is a devotional book based on the hymn "Take my Life".

Letters by the late

Frances Ridley Havergal

The first edition of "Letters" was published in 1885. It was quickly followed by a second containing additional letters and a manuscript work "Hinderers & Hinderances". This books is based on the first edition plus the additional material from the second.

Page Index

Page numbers from the 1910 print edition

Chapter 1

1,   2,   3,   4

Chapter 2

5,   6,   7,   8,   9,   10,   11,   12,  13,   14,   15,   16,   17,   18,   19,   20,   21,   22,   23,

Chapter 3

24,  25,   26,   27,   28,   29,   30,   31,   32,   33,   34,   35,  36,   37,   38,   39

Chapter 4

40,   41,   42,   43,   44,   45,   46,   47,  48,   49,   50

Chapter 5

51,   52,   53,   54,   55,   56,   57,   58,   59,   60

Chapter 6

61,   62,   63,   64,   65,   66,   67,   68,   69,  70,  71,  72,   73,   74,   75,   76

Chapter 7

77,   78,   79,   80,   81,   82,   83,   84,   85,   86,   87

Chapter 8

88,   89,   90,   91,   92,   93,   94,   95,   96,   97,   98,   99,   100,  101

Chapter 9

102,  103,  104, 105,  106,  107,  108,  109,  110,  111,  112

Chapter 10

113,  114,  115,  116,  117,  118,  119,  120,  121,  122,  123,  124,  125,  126,  127,  128,  129

Chapter 11

130,  131,  132,  133,  134,  135,  136,  137,  138,  139,  140

Chapter 12

141,  142,  143,  144,  145,  146,  147,  148,  149,  150,  151

Chapter 13

152,  153,  154,  155,  156,  157,  158,  159,  160,  161,  162

Chapter 14

163,  164,  165,  166,  167,  168,  169,  170,  171

Chapter 15

172,  173,  174,  175,  176,  177,  178,  179,  180,  181,  182,  183,  184,  185,  186,  187,  188

Chapter 16

189,  190,  191,  192,  193,  194,  195,  196,  197,  198,  199,  200,  201,  202,  203,  204,  205,  206,  207,  208,  209

Chapter 17

210,  211,  212,  213,  214,  215,  216,  217,  218,  219,  220,  221,  222

Chapter 18

223,  224,  225,  226,  227,  228,  229,  230,  231,  232,  233,  234,  235

Chapter 19

236,  237,  238,  239,  240,  241,  242,  243,  244,  245,  246

Chapter 20

247,  248,  249,  250,  251,  252,  253,  254,  255,  256,  257,  258,  259,  260,  261,  262,  263,  264,  265

Chapter 21

266,  267,  268,  269,  270,  271,  272,  273,  274,  275,  276,  277

Chapter 22

278,  279,  280,  281,  282,  283,  284,  285,  286,  287,  288,  289,  290,  291

Chapter 23

292,  293,  294,  295,  296,  297,  298,  299,  300,  301,  302,  303,  304,  305,  306,  307,  308,  309,  310,  311

Chapter 24

312,  313,  314,  315,  316,  317,  318,  319,  320

Chapter 25

321,  322,  323,  324,  325,  326,  327,  328,  329,  330,  331,  332,  333

Chapter 26

334,  335,  336,  337,  338,  339,  340,  341,  342,  343,  344,  345,  346,  347,  348,  349,  350,  351, [352 blank]

Index

353-379