The town of Commines, on the confines of France and Belgium, is situated
on the River Lys, by which it is divided into two parts; the right
bank belongs to France, and the left to Belgium. It possesses no great
importance at the present day; but formerly, and until the end of the
seventeenth century, it could boast of strong fortifications and a
castle, which were destroyed by the French in 1672. The lordship of the
town had been enjoyed by several noble families in succession; but for
our present purpose it will be sufficient to state that about the year
1373, Jeanne de Waziers, Lady of Commines and Halewin, brought it in
marriage to Nicholas, surnamed Colart de la Clite. The name of Commines,
which had been honourably mentioned at the time of the first Crusades,
was still so imposing that the new lord, or at least his descendants,
did not hesitate to substitute it for that of their original race. This
nobiliary lustre, however, would not have sufficed to have rescued it
any more than other mediæval names, from the obscurity of genealogical
archives, if a distinction of a higher character had not secured it
immortal renown.
In the Castle of Commines, in the year 1447, was born that celebrated
historian whose works have saved from oblivion the meaner glories of his
ancestral line. His father, the sovereign-bailiff of Flanders, had been
dubbed a knight by the Duke of Burgundy on the day of the battle of St.
Riquier, the 31st of August, 1421, on which day that prince had also
received the honour of knighthood from the hands of John of Luxembourg;
and perhaps this circumstance, adroitly called to mind by the father,
induced Philip the Good to do the new-born babe the honour of holding him
at the font, and presenting his god-son to baptism under the invocation
of his own patron saint. A most hopeful future seemed thus to open before
young Commines, who was placed, from his very birth, under the protection
of a most powerful monarch; but he was ere long destined to suffer cruel
losses. His mother, Marguerite d’Armuyden, died soon after giving him
birth, and a few years later, the death of his father left him completely
an orphan, with an estate greatly impoverished by bad management and
reckless expenditure.
The young orphan and his property were placed by the king under the
guardianship of his cousin-german, Jean de la Clite, Lord of Commines,
who succeeded, not without great difficulty, in preserving to his
ward a small part of his patrimony—so small, indeed, that its value
amounted only to the sum of 2424 livres 16 sols 6 deniers tournois. The
development of the mind of young Commines was almost as utterly neglected
as the management of his property; for his guardian was too much absorbed
by more personal business to attend to either. His ward received the same
education as, with but few exceptions, was then given to all the children
of the nobility. Greek and Latin formed no part of his instruction, and
bodily exercises were cultivated with far greater assiduity than mental
discipline. Perhaps, however, we ought to congratulate ourselves that
this was the case. Intellects like that of Commines form themselves,
and advance all the faster and farther because they have no useless
acquirements to forget, and no false instruction to unlearn. The
sagacious and meditative mind of the future historian was likely to learn
far more from the great book of the world than from all the writings of
the schoolmen; and that book soon opened before him.
The brilliant and splendid court of Philip the Good then rivalled those
of more powerful monarchs in magnificence and lustre. Commines was
summoned to this sphere of action by his godfather, who attached him to
his person as one of his esquires, probably in the year 1463, and soon
transferred him, in the same capacity, to the service of his son, the
Count of Charolois. He was then about seventeen years of age, and his
youthful inexperience was easily dazzled by two dominant qualities of
his new master, self-confidence and courage, which were fated so soon to
involve him in acts of presumption and temerity. Under such a prince,
the opportunity of winning his spurs was not long delayed. Commines
accompanied him into France at the time of the war of the Public Good
(1465), fought by his side at the battle of Montlhery, and did not leave
him during the whole of that eventful day—feeling less alarmed at his
own danger, than astonished at the audacity of the French in resisting
his master. Two years later, he entered Liege with the victorious duke,
and there is every reason to believe that at this period he was dubbed a
knight.
Soon after his return from this expedition, and a short time before the
marriage of Charles the Bold, which took place on the 16th of February,
1468, Commines was appointed chamberlain and councillor of that prince.
The privileges of this double office secured him, though he was only
about twenty years of age, the right of entrance into the Burgundian
council, and a sort of respectful intimacy with his master. Doubtless
the duties of a councillor could not have been easy to fulfil in the
household of a prince of such unmanageable disposition, and “who despised
all other advice in the world, except only his own;” but the chamberlain,
at all events, might make himself agreeable, and succeed in obtaining a
considerable degree of familiar intimacy with his sovereign. Commines
soon obtained this, either from trying some indirect, but certain means
of acquiring influence over the mind of the duke, or because daily
communications between two persons not separated by any great difference
of age naturally led to this result. The influence to which we refer, and
which we have no wish to exaggerate, was ere long to be subjected to a
decisive test, under very memorable circumstances.
In the month of October, 1468, Louis XI. came to Peronne, and imprudently
placed himself at the mercy of Charles the Bold, against whom he was
then secretly instigating the Liegeois to revolt. This step involved him
in great peril, and his danger was increased by the fact that the duke,
irritated at so audacious a piece of perfidy, was surrounded by scarcely
any persons who were not animated by powerful motives of hatred against
the king. The most violent counsels were given, and favourably received
by a prince who was naturally inclined to extreme courses. Commines,
aided by some other servants of the duke, few in number, but more
sensible, more jealous of the honour of their master, and, in a word,
more politic than his other advisers, succeeded in partially allaying
the storm; but it soon burst out afresh with still greater vehemence.
The king alone could avert its direful consequences. In his first alarm
he had recourse to means of safety whose efficacy was well known to him:
now, gold was of no further avail; he must bow his royal head.
Numerous propositions of a humiliating character were about to be made to
him; he would have to accept them all, and that at once and unreservedly;
otherwise all would be lost. The duke had dishonoured himself by breaking
his plighted word; he was detaining his guest in captivity; and certain
members of his council seemed to hope that he would venture still
further. A happy inspiration of Commines saved France and her king,
Burgundy and her duke, from the incalculable misfortunes which would have
resulted from so fatal an event. He secretly informed Louis XI. of all
that had been resolved upon regarding him, and of the risk he would incur
by the slightest resistance to the demands of the duke. Two important
results, equally desirable to every loyal servant of Charles the Bold,
might be produced by this hazardous proceeding. It might compel the duke
to respect the safe-conduct which he had given to Louis XI., and at the
same time secure him as great, if not greater, advantages than those
which he might hope to obtain by violating his promised word. The event
proved that Commines had calculated rightly. Louis, it is well known,
submitted, with the best grace in the world, to all that the gaoler chose
to exact from his captive; so that the duke, who, on approaching him had
used angry gestures and language, left him in high contentment.
On leaving Peronne, in order to perform one of the conditions which had
been imposed upon him, the king had to march with the Duke of Burgundy
against the Liegeois. He had encouraged their rebellion, and he was
obliged to suffer the disgrace of contributing to punish it. Commines
accompanied the two princes on this expedition, and had his share in the
imminent danger to which they were exposed. He was sleeping with three
others in his master’s bed-chamber, when a band of Liegeois, favoured by
the darkness, fell suddenly on the lodgings of Charles the Bold and Louis
XI. This sortie was ably conducted, and nearly met with all the success
which the besieged hoped for; the two princes, with their servants,
narrowly escaped finding defeat and death where they had imagined their
triumph would be certain and easy. It was most fortunate for the duke
that he had not followed the advice of some of his councillors, who
recommended him “to dismiss a part of his army, seeing that the city of
Liege had had its gates and walls demolished during the previous years,
and that it could hope for succour from no quarter.” The king, who had
his reasons for it, was inclined to adopt this suggestion; but Commines
and other prudent councilors remonstrated against so imprudent a step,
and their advice was followed, less perhaps because of its wisdom than
because the duke greatly suspected the king.
The alarm was so sudden and unforeseen that Commines and his two
fellow-chamberlains had scarcely time “to arm the duke with his cuirass,
and put a helmet on his head.” The enemy were pouring in on all sides,
and, in order to get out into the street, it was necessary to drive
back the Liegeois, who were resolutely attacking the doors and windows.
Numbers at length obtained the advantage over desperate courage; the
Liegeois, hemmed in on all sides, were cut to pieces. They met with a
similar fate at the king’s quarters, which were valiantly defended by
the Scottish archers of his guard. We may note, _en passant_, that these
brave Scottish archers, renowned above all others for their skill, were
on this occasion so awkward that, with their numerous arrows, “they
wounded more Burgundians than Liegeois.”
On the following day, the town, attacked on both sides, was captured, set
on fire, and given up to pillage. The devastation and massacre lasted
for five or six days longer, after which the king began to negotiate for
leave to return home: and, in a short time, he departed, leaving the Duke
of Burgundy to pursue his work of destruction alone.
To return, however, to Commines. His father had not been an
irreproachable administrator of the public funds, and had died, owing the
duke enormous sums, for the recovery of which the agents of that prince
sold one of the estates of the defaulter, named Renescure. The proceeds
of this sale, however, did not amount to a sufficient sum to liquidate
the entire debt. On the 1st of October, 1469, Commines obtained, in
reward for his services, a receipt in full for all that might still be
due from his family to the ducal treasury. In the following year, he
was sent on a mission to the Governor of Calais, which, though very
simple at first, was eventually rendered by circumstances very delicate,
and even dangerous. At one moment the danger became so great, that he
thought it prudent to apply for a safe-conduct, and inform his master of
his position. He soon received an answer: the duke sent him his signet
ring, ordering him to continue his negotiation, and promising that if he
were made prisoner, he would ransom him. Commines had acted wisely in
obtaining sureties, for the duke “never hesitated to expose one of his
servants to danger, when he had need of his assistance.” The negotiation,
however, was ably conducted, and brought to a successful issue, to the
satisfaction of all the parties concerned.
The skilful agent of this treaty was entrusted with a new mission about
the month of July or August, 1471. We are not acquainted with the object
he had in view, but it is certain that he had an interview with Louis
XI., by permission of the Duke of Burgundy. It was a very great mistake
on the part of the duke to have allowed this; for, as Molinet says,
the king’s speech “was so gentle and virtuous, that, like the voice of
the siren, it lulled to sleep all who listened.” To this remarkable
suavity of language Louis XI. added, according to the testimony of
Commines himself, another no less powerful means of attraction; of all
contemporary princes, he was the one “who most laboured to gain any man
who was able to serve or injure him. And he was never diverted from his
purpose by being once refused by any man whom he was endeavouring to
gain; but steadfastly continued making him large promises, and actually
giving him money and estates which he knew would please him.”
Commines, who was moreover allured by many great and truly royal
qualities of Louis XI., allowed himself to be seduced, as many others had
been, by promises and gifts. For we do not hesitate to believe that it
was during this journey into France, that he deposited in the hands of
Jean de Beaune, a merchant of Tours, a sum of 6000 livres tournois, to
which we shall presently have occasion to refer again, and which he had
probably received from the king.
The interested liberality of the monarch required some return, and
Commines, in exchange for the favours he accepted, doubtless had to
contract one of those engagements which are seldom evidenced by written
agreements, but proved only by subsequent facts. What was the nature of
this convention? We cannot say with certainty, but it appears extremely
probable that the conditions of the treaty were these: Louis XI. assured
to Commines, if he would consent to leave Charles the Bold and enter his
service, the same position of councillor and chamberlain at the Court of
France that he had held at the Court of Burgundy, together with numerous
estates and lordships, offices and dignities of great value, and an
annual pension of 6000 livres tournois. He further engaged to give him in
marriage one of the rich heiresses of the kingdom. Of a truth there was
in these offers enough to dazzle a young and ambitious man; the siren had
lulled many consciences to sleep at less cost.
Commines accepted the conditions of the treaty; but on his return to
his native land, a very natural feeling of hesitation made him recoil
from the final accomplishment of the transaction. Louis XI., however,
daily pressed him more urgently; the wily monarch could not consent to
have tried his powers of seduction in vain. If Commines escaped his
grasp, he determined at least to make sure of his money. A councillor of
the great council, Master Pierre Clutin, was ordered to proceed to the
residence of Jean de Beaune, and, in the king’s name, to seize the 6000
livres which had been entrusted to him by Commines. This was an able and
decisive measure. The publicity of this seizure placed Commines in the
unpleasant alternative of seeing his practices divulged, without gaining
any profit by them, or of securing their advantages only by setting aside
the scruples which delayed him. He took the latter and safer course, and
during the night of the 7th of August, 1472, he abandoned Burgundy for
ever. The king was then at Pont-de-Cè, and there his new servant joined
him.
Very different opinions have been passed on this act in the life of
Commines; some are too severe, and others too indulgent, to be adopted
without qualification. Some writers, among whom we may instance
Voltaire, seem to have forgotten that in weighing the actions of men,
regard should be had to the times in which they lived, and to the daily
examples which they had before their eyes; while others appear to have
fallen into the opposite error of forgetting that, although equity
requires us to take all the circumstances of the case into consideration,
there are nevertheless certain acts which a healthy morality cannot
wholly absolve. Let us award to Commines all the blame that he merits
for his defection, but let us neither exaggerate his fault beyond due
measure, nor extenuate it with blind and unreasoning partiality. Would
that it were the gravest reproach to be addressed to his memory!
The confiscation of all the property, moveable and immoveable, which
Commines left behind him, was an inevitable and expected consequence
of the resolution he had taken. On the very day of his departure, at
six o’clock in the morning, the Duke of Burgundy bestowed on the Lord
of Quiévrain all the rights and properties reverting to the fugitive
from the Lord of Trazegnies and his estate, in virtue of a decree of
the Court of Mons. But whatever Commines lost on the one side, he
regained a hundredfold on the other. No sooner had he arrived at the
court of Louis XI., than he received in the first place, the title of
councillor and chamberlain of the king; soon after, a pension of 6000
livres was bestowed on him, “that he might have the means of honourably
maintaining his rank;” he was also rewarded with the office of captain
of the castle and donjon of the town of Chinon; and, finally, he was
presented with the rich principality of Talmont, the importance of which
was greatly increased by its numerous dependencies, Olonne, Curzon, and
Chateau-Gaultier, and which was soon after still further augmented by
the chastellanies, lands, and lordships of Bran and Brandois. To impart
additional value to these gifts, the town of Sables, in the lordship of
Olonne, was exempted from all taxes, on condition that the inhabitants
should enclose and fortify it.
Before pursuing our narrative any further, it will be expedient at once
to acquaint the reader with certain details necessary to the proper
understanding of our subsequent statements. The letters of Louis XI.,
conferring on Commines the principality of Talmont and its dependencies,
although dated in the month of October, 1472, were not registered by the
Parliament until the 13th of December, 1473, or by the Cour des Comptes
until the 2nd of May, 1474. The proverbial slowness of judicial procedure
was not the only cause of this delay. Opposition, which was only too
well founded, as we shall presently see, had prevented Commines from
entering upon the enjoyment of his royal master’s liberalities at an
earlier period. The king’s title to the estates and lordships with which
he had enriched his new chamberlain, was very doubtful and disputable.
It was by a series of violent and arbitrary acts that the royal domain
had been increased by these spoils of the house of Amboise. The last male
representative of that illustrious family, Louis d’Amboise, Vicomte de
Thouars, was the father of three daughters, of whom the eldest, Frances,
was sought in marriage by George de la Tremoille, the all-powerful
minister of Charles VII., who intended her for his eldest son. But a more
advantageous match had previously presented itself, and Mademoiselle
d’Amboise was already betrothed to Pierre de Bretagne, second son of the
reigning duke. The minister could not see so rich an heiress escape from
his grasp without feeling the utmost disappointment and displeasure. As
his pride had, moreover, been wounded by the haughty manner in which his
proposals had been rejected, he conceived a project of revenge which he
carried, ere long, into execution. Under the pretext that the Vicomte de
Thouars had made an attempt to deprive him of his liberty, he ordered him
to be arrested and imprisoned in the Castle of Poitiers. The parliament
was then sitting in that town. George de la Tremoille obtained a decree
from that assembly, dated May 8. 1431, which declared the Lord of Amboise
guilty of high treason for having attempted to seize upon the person of
the king, by arresting the Lord de la Tremoille his minister, and by this
means to obtain the direction of state affairs; and condemned him, as
a traitor, to the punishment of death, and the confiscation of all his
property. The latter part of this sentence was alone executed, as the
king commuted the punishment of death into perpetual imprisonment. But
even his captivity came to an end after three years, in consequence of
the intervention of the Queen, Marie of Anjou. With his liberty, Louis
d’Amboise recovered in September, 1434, the viscounty of Thouars, and his
other estates, with the exception of the principality of Talmont, and the
lordships of Amboise, Chateau-Gaultier, Olonne, Bran, and Brandois. At a
later period, in January, 1438, Charles VII. declared that malevolence
alone had stimulated the persecutors of the Lord of Amboise, who had been
condemned without any form of trial, and he therefore restored him to
the possession of all his estates of which he was still deprived. This
restitution, however, was coupled with this, among other conditions, that
he should not marry his eldest daughter without the king’s permission.
Was this permission ever obtained? Apparently it was; for a short time
after he had recovered his property, the Vicomte de Thouars celebrated
the marriage of his eldest daughter with Duke Pierre of Bretagne. His
third daughter, Marguerite d’Amboise, married the rejected suitor of
Frances, that very Louis de la Tremoille, who had so recently been the
involuntary cause of his father-in-law’s misfortunes; and this alliance,
as we shall presently see, occasioned the transfer of all the property
of the house of Amboise to the family of La Tremoille. On ratifying the
contract of this second marriage, by an act dated August 22. 1446, Louis
d’Amboise assigned to Marguerite, as her future share in his possessions,
the estates of Talmont, Bran, Olonne, Curzon, Chateau-Gaultier, La
Chaume, Les Sables, and Marans; reserving to himself however, the
enjoyment of them during his life-time. In his old age, the Vicomte
de Thouars gave himself up to the most foolish prodigalities, and to
such disorderly conduct that his children were obliged to sue for the
appointment of trustees to his estate.
He did not surrender his rights without a contest, but alleged that the
Duke and Duchess of Bretagne were moved solely by discontent at not
having been able to persuade him to give them the estate of Thouars, and
that, furthermore, the proceedings instituted against him were irregular,
inasmuch as, from his rank and relationship to the royal family of
France, he must be tried by the king and “the duly assembled court of
peers.” The parliament, disregarding his protest, made a provisional
order that the vicomte should not alienate his property, or make any
conveyance thereof without the advice and consent of Master Robert
Thiboust, then president of that court. This decree was dated on the 16th
of January, 1457. The suit was still in progress when Louis XI. ascended
the throne; and it seemed to him that it would be easy to take advantage
at once of the weakness and irritation of the vicomte. At a summons from
the king, the vicomte proceeded to Tours, and Louis proposed to him to
marry the Duchess of Bretagne, who had become a widow, to the Duke of
Savoy, and appointed him to negotiate the alliance. The duchess gave a
distinct and formal refusal to these overtures; and in order to destroy
all chance of gaining her compliance, she pronounced a vow at the altar
never to marry again. Louis XI. gave a very ungracious reception to
the luckless negotiator, and frightened him so by his threats and the
violence of his reproaches, that Louis d’Amboise, duped by this simulated
anger, readily listened to the counsels of certain courtiers, who advised
him to propitiate the king by giving him the viscounty of Thouars. But in
order that this donation might be valid, it was necessary to get rid of
the decree pronounced by the court in January, 1457. This obstacle did
not long stand in the way of Louis XI. The affair was referred to the
council, which, by a decree of the 5th of September, 1462, reversed the
order of the parliament. Thus restored to the uncontrolled management of
his property, Louis d’Amboise sold to the king the viscounty of Thouars
for 100,000 crowns, to be paid within a week: but the king was not to
take possession of the estate until the death of the vicomte. 10,000
crowns were paid to him a few days after the signature of the contract,
and Louis XI. received in return a general receipt for the entire sum.
The Duchess of Bretagne hastened to protest against this ill-disguised
act of spoliation; but ere long, having taken the veil, she transferred
all her rights to her nephew, Louis de la Tremoille, the eldest son of
her sister Marguerite. Louis d’Amboise, after having spent the last
years of his life in disgraceful disorders, died at length on the 28th
of February, 1470. While he was on his death-bed, Jacques de Beaumont,
Lord of Bressuyre, came, in pursuance of the king’s command, at the head
of some thirty gentlemen, to invest the Castle of Thouars, from whence
he had orders to remove the children, the wife, the relatives, and even
the friends of the dying man. He executed these commands to the letter;
and it was among strangers, and under the care of physicians selected
by the Lord of Bressuyre, that Louis d’Amboise breathed his last. Some
notable inhabitants of the town attended his funeral, which was arranged
by Jacques de Beaumont, who caused an inventory to be taken immediately
of the furniture and title-deeds, and seized in the king’s name on the
viscounty of Thouars, and all the other property of the deceased. Such
was the title of Louis XI. to the estate with which he had just enriched
Commines. The head of the despoiled family opposed the registration of
the king’s letters, both in the parliament and in the Cour des Comptes;
but after some slight resistance, both the sovereign courts were
constrained to yield. Commines took possession of the gifts of Louis XI.,
which were destined to prove to him the source of great anxiety and the
cause of painful and scandalous lawsuits.
These honours and emoluments certainly recompensed Commines very amply
for any loss he had sustained by leaving his native country. Louis XI.,
however, did not rest satisfied with these proofs of his gratitude. An
advantageous marriage which he had long had in view, soon secured an
increase of fortune to the Prince de Talmont, for that was the title
assumed by Commines on the 27th of January, 1473, when he signed his
contract of marriage with Helène de Chambes, eldest daughter of the Lord
and Lady of Montsoreau. The dowry of the bride amounted to 20,000 golden
crowns, as an equivalent for which Commines received from her parents the
castle, town, barony, estate, and lordship of Argenton, in Poitou, with
all its rich and numerous dependencies.
To all these benefits, Louis XI. added a gift of which he was not
lavish—his confidence. Commines apparently proved himself worthy of
it, for the favours of the king continued to shower down upon him. It
would be tedious to enumerate them here; we will only mention that
he was invested with the office of Seneschal of Poitou, in November,
1476, and with the captaincy of the Castle of Poitiers in February,
1477. Such continued favour could not fail to arouse the jealousy and
even the hatred of less fortunate courtiers, especially of those who
found it difficult to obtain their share of influence, which they were
incapable of earning by services of so high, an order as those rendered
by Commines. Envy, when brooding in the heart of such a man as Tristan
l’Ermite, might produce the most fatal results; and the more so, as the
new favourite was not naturally inclined to pause of his own accord in
the career of honour which opened before him, and scarcely attempted to
dissemble his disdain for the unworthy rival who endeavoured to stand in
his way. The court was soon divided, as it were, into two camps, each of
which maintained the pretensions of its chosen leader; and the prudence
of Louis XI. had frequently to interfere to restore peace between two
servants who, on different grounds, were equally necessary to him.
The first person who brought this prince any important news was sure to
be rewarded by him with favour and gifts; skilful courtiers knew this,
and lost no opportunity of profiting by this means of pleasing their
master. Commines was one of the first to announce to him the result of
the battle of Morat on the 22nd of June, 1476; and he received as his
share of the recompense 200 marks of gold. No message could have been
more agreeable to the king, excepting, perhaps, that which announced to
him, a few months afterwards, the total defeat of the Duke of Burgundy,
after the disastrous battle of Nancy on the 5th of January, 1477. The
duke had been found dead on the field. At this news, even before it
was known whether Charles the Bold had survived his defeat, Louis XI.
“felt such exceeding joy that he almost lost countenance.” The Bastard
of Bourbon and Commines were immediately sent into Picardy, with full
power to receive and establish in the king’s allegiance all who were
willing to surrender. The plan of Louis XI. was to march an army into
Burgundy, and to take possession of the country in the name of the duke,
after expelling the _Germans_, who had occupied it since their victory.
Commines seems to have believed in the sincerity of these intentions,
which, whether real or feigned, were not long entertained; for the
positive news of the duke’s death soon reached the king’s ear, and
altogether changed his plans.
Meanwhile, Commines and the Bastard of Bourbon proceeded towards
Abbeville, whither they had taken the precaution of sending an emissary
before them, to pave the way for an accommodation. But notwithstanding
all their diligence, they had been anticipated, and when they reached the
town, the people had already delivered up the gates to the Seigneur de
Torcy. The two plenipotentiaries next went to Doullens, whence they sent
to summon Arras to submit to the authority of the king. Commines set out
alone to conduct this negotiation; but all his address failed to corrupt
the loyalty of the people of Arras, who formally refused to acknowledge
any other sovereign than their young duchess. He therefore contented
himself with labouring secretly to gain the greatest possible number of
partizans for his master; and this was, after all, the principal object
of his mission. He had acted, moreover, on the mere announcement of
the defeat of Charles the Bold; but the certain news of the death of
that prince had, as we have already stated, totally changed the king’s
intentions. It was no longer his object to preserve Burgundy from the
invasion of the Germans; he wished to take possession of the country,
and distribute its lordships among his servants. This failure at Arras
was all the more displeasing to him because other negotiators had met
with better success: Guillaume de Bische, for instance, had secured
Peronne. His valet de chambre, Oliver, boasted that he would reduce to
his allegiance the city of Ghent; and Robinet d’Odenfort answered for
the submission of St. Omer. The king, flattered by these promises, and
believing himself already in possession of these places, compared the
meagre result of the mission entrusted to Commines with the happy issue
promised him by the zeal of his faithful servants. The Lord du Lude and
others, on being questioned by the king, concurred in his opinion; and
all that Commines could do was to suggest doubts as to the facility with
which such strong towns would be induced to surrender.
He was better acquainted with the country than any other member of
the council; and his advice was to secure to the crown of France the
possession of the rich domains which it coveted, rather by some valid
title, as marriage or friendly cession, than by the means which it was
intended to adopt. Louis XI. doubtless thoroughly understood the wisdom
of this advice, and had once approved it; but the facility with which he
had just succeeded almost everywhere in getting possession of important
places had intoxicated him. Commines persisted in thinking that the wise
slowness of negotiations and alliances was preferable to the dangerous
risks which would otherwise be incurred, because by maintaining the
kingdom in peace, it would hold more secure possession of its pacific
conquests. These prudent suggestions, maliciously interpreted, were
obnoxious to the king, who had made up his mind to pursue a different
course. Under the pretext of a mission into Poitou, on the frontiers of
Bretagne, he dismissed his unwelcome adviser. This was a real disgrace.
All the courtiers saw this, and amused themselves at Commines’ expense;
but, as he tells us himself, he had no mind to laugh at their jokes, as
he feared that the king might be at the bottom of the sport. Another
circumstance added the climax to his anxieties. He had written into
Hainault to enlist partizans for his master; and one of his relatives
came to him, bearing promises of adherence from a number of notable
persons, who undertook to deliver into his hands the principal towns and
fortresses in the country. Before his departure, Commines communicated
these offers of service to Louis XI., who flatly refused them, thinking
he would be able to dispense with the assistance of these noblemen; but
he afterwards had reason to repent his refusal; “for,” says Commines,
“I saw he would have highly esteemed them, if he could have renewed his
dealings with them.”
The king’s ill-humour, however, was not of long duration, and his
liberalities to others did not prevent his remembering Commines,
who received his fair share of the confiscated property of Jacques
d’Armagnac, which Louis XI. distributed among his favourites.
Towards the end of the year 1477, or perhaps at the beginning of the year
following, Commines was sent into Burgundy at the head of the pensioners
of the king’s household: but he does not explain the object of his
mission. New annoyances awaited him in that country, and his stay therein
was short. That rich province was unfortunate in its governors. The Lord
of Craon, who had been recalled on account of his extortionate rapine,
had been lately succeeded by Charles d’Amboise, Lord of Chaumont, “a very
valiant and prudent man,” but no less avaricious than his predecessor,
and who treated the province which he ruled “as if it were his own
estate.” In relating these facts, Commines registers rather than censures
them. If he blames the conduct of the Lord of Craon, it is with prudent
reserve, and because “his pillagings, in truth, were too excessive.”
The spirit of tolerance in which his narrative is composed lends some
probability to the accusations which were, ere long, brought against
himself. He was denounced to the king as having spared “certain burghers
of Dijon concerning the quarters of men-at-arms.” This peccadillo alone
would doubtless have been insufficient to necessitate his recall; but,
“with some other slight suspicion,” about which the discreet historian
makes no revelation, it combined to induce Louis XI. to send him “very
suddenly” to Florence.
As soon as he had received his credentials, Commines set out on his
journey, travelling very rapidly, and halting at as few places as
possible. He remained for two or three days only at Turin, to pay his
respects to the Duchess of Savoy; and about the same time at Milan.
In this latter town, he had instructions to demand, in his master’s
name, the execution of a treaty of offensive and defensive alliance
which pledged the Milanese government to support the Florentines. The
assistance which he solicited was liberally and readily granted. He then
continued his journey to Florence, where he arrived towards the end of
April, 1478. A formidable plot, which had been sternly repressed, had
just deluged that city with blood: and Commines has given a graphic
account of it in his Memoirs. If the sole object of his mission had
reference to this event, it also tended to prove the interest felt by
France in the cause of the Florentines (or, to speak more correctly, of
the Medici family), who were then menaced by a powerful league, headed by
Pope Sixtus V. and the King of Naples. The favour thus openly avowed was
not injurious to the _protégés_ of Louis XI., but a good army would have
served them far more effectually. Commines brought with him no troops,
and wielded no weapons but those of diplomacy. Of these, he made the best
use he could, and, as it would appear, to the entire satisfaction of the
parties interested.
After a stay of some months in Florence and the towns in its territory,
he began to think of returning to France; but, before his departure, he
renewed with the ambassadors of the Duke of Milan, the ancient treaties
of alliance between France and that duchy. This act of renewal was
executed at Florence on the 18th of August, 1478, and was signed by
Commines and Lorenzo de Medici, as representatives of the King of France.
In the same capacity, on the 7th of September following, our historian
received from Giovanni Galeazzo-Maria, Duke of Milan, the fealty and
homage due by that prince for the duchies of Genoa and Savona, of which
Louis XI. was suzerain lord.
A considerable period had now elapsed since Commines had left the court
in order to discharge these various missions. On his return, he was
struck by the change which had taken place in the appearance of his royal
master, whom he found “somewhat aged,” and “beginning to have a tendency
to illness.” He met with a most flattering reception from the king, who
consulted him more than ever about his affairs, and, as a mark of signal
favour, allowed him to sleep with him. This favour continued until the
monarch’s death; but before, we proceed any further, we must go back a
little to relate the most painful part of Commines’ personal history.
We have already described the iniquitous and violent proceedings by which
Louis XI. had seized upon the property of Louis d’Amboise; and we have
related how the Lord de la Tremoille, in the name of his children, gave
all the opposition in his power to the putting Commines into possession
of that part of the spoils which had fallen to his share. It will be
remembered that the parliament, after an honourable resistance, had
finally yielded; but on the very day after its submission to the orders
of the king, it entered a protest on its records, declaring that its
conduct had been under compulsion, and could not therefore be prejudicial
to the rights of the family of La Tremoille, in whose favour it renewed
its reservations. That family was in no degree disposed to abdicate its
rights, but pursued its claims with courageous perseverance. Commines
was in possession, it is true; but, finding himself disturbed in his
possession by ceaseless lawsuits, he requested the Procureur du Roi,
in conformity with the terms of the letters-patent granting him the
property in question, to secure him from all future hindrances to his
peaceable enjoyment of the same. The Procureur du Roi consequently
interfered; and thenceforward the parties to the suit, in appearance at
least, were Louis XI. and those whom he had spoiled. The parliament, with
an independence which does it honour, availed itself of every pretext for
securing to the oppressed family some remnant of their ancient domains.
A great deal of the property had been sold to the king by the last
possessor, but the conveyance had been illegally made, and of this the La
Tremoilles furnished abundant proof. Louis XI. then adduced the letters
of confiscation issued by his father against Louis d’Amboise: and if this
property had been subsequently restored to that nobleman, it was, urged
the king’s advocates, on conditions which had not been accomplished—among
others, on condition that Jeanne d’Amboise should not marry without the
consent of Charles VII. That permission, replied La Tremoille, had been
obtained; but where was the proof? doubtless in the archives of the
Chateau de Thouars, the ancient residence of their ancestors.
Louis XI., it will be remembered, had ordered the Seigneur de Bressuyre
to take possession of this chateau at the beginning of the last illness
of Louis d’Amboise. After his decease, no member of his family, not
even his widow, was allowed to enter it. A very summary inventory of
the furniture was hastily prepared, and great care was taken not to
particularise the contents of the charter chests. In order to sustain his
pretended rights against the persistent opposition of the La Tremoille
family, and to cloak the most revolting iniquity with a show of justice,
the king appointed a commission of inquiry to search the archives of
Thouars for letters likely to serve his case. Two documents of great
importance were found, under the hand and seal of Charles VII.; one
granting the Vicomte de Thouars the restitution of all his confiscated
property, and the other giving him permission to marry his daughter to
the Prince of Bretagne, or any other husband he might select. Commines,
who was one of the commissioners, saw at once that these papers would
destroy all his chances of success, and he threw them into the fire.
Jean Chambon, another commissioner, took them out again immediately,
expressing his indignation at such culpable conduct; and the papers were
transmitted to the king, whom Commines had informed of their character.
On receiving them from the Seigneur de Bressuyre, the wily monarch threw
them into the fire, saying, “It is not I who burn them, but the fire:”
and he required all present to swear never to divulge what they had seen.
Thus were destroyed the only deeds which could establish the right of
the La Tremoilles to protest against the spoliation of which they were
the victims. This was done in October, 1476; but it was not until many
months later that the king determined to avail himself of the advantage
he had thus iniquitously obtained. On the 21st of July, 1479, a decree
was issued, terminating the suit in favour of the king and his servant
Commines. This decree, however, as it often happens in such cases,
satisfied none of the parties, and least of all, the Lord of Argenton.
He certainly found himself maintained in the possession of Talmont,
Chateau-Gaultier, and Berrye; but Olonne, Curzon, and La Chaume, which
Louis d’Amboise had given to his daughter as her dowry, were adjudged to
the La Tremoille family, as appertaining to their maternal inheritance.
By this sentence of the parliament, therefore, Commines found all his
plans frustrated. “That sort of maritime sovereignty,” says M. de
Vaudoré, “which he was anxious to create for himself in Lower Poitou,
and which he had delighted in representing to his master as likely to
prove a second Flanders, as far as commerce and productiveness were
concerned, was now greatly diminished. To lose Olonne and La Chaume was
to be deprived of a port to which he expected to attract the ships of
all countries, and whither, in fact, they afterwards came by hundreds:
to give up Bran and Brandois was to renounce the drainage of fertile
marshes: to restore Curzon was to resign a position which combined both
these advantages.” And yet, how was he to avoid compliance with the
orders of justice? His genius, ever fertile in expedients, suggested to
him the means of doing so. At his instigation, Louis XI. offered to Louis
de la Tremoille certain other lands and lordships in exchange for those
of which the parliament had acknowledged his children to be proprietors.
This offer was indignantly rejected as an insult to misfortune; for of
the estates thus offered, two only did not proceed from the spoils of
the house of Amboise. But Commines was not discouraged by this refusal.
What the father had rejected might probably, he thought, be accepted by
the children. These young persons, though still minors, were drawing near
the age when the young nobility usually aspired to rank among men of
war; and their forced idleness was irksome to them. Louis XI. would not
admit them into his service, notwithstanding the urgent solicitations of
their brother-in-law, the Bastard of Maine; but it was intimated to them
that they might overcome the monarch’s resistance, and even obtain his
favour, by condescension to his wishes. This implied acquiescence in all
the past, as they well understood; but they resigned themselves to their
fate, in appearance at least. At the same time that they consented to the
transfer, they executed, in the presence of a notary, a deed claiming
the rights which they were about to renounce, in which they stated that,
being compelled to yield to the moral violence exercised over them, they
protested beforehand against anything they might be forced to do. A few
days after the estates had thus passed once more into the hands of the
king, he renewed his gift of them to Commines, by letters patent, which,
thanks to the show of legality by which the agreement between the two
parties was surrounded, were registered without obstacle by both the
parliament and the Cour des Comptes.
Commines’ high favour had now reached its climax; it seemed impossible
for it to increase. A terrible accident however, which threatened to
deprive him of his royal protector, served to make it still more evident.
In the month of March, 1481, Louis XI. was attacked by a fit of apoplexy,
which temporarily deprived him of speech, memory, and sense. As soon
as he came to himself, he sent for his confessor and for Commines, who
was at the time at Argenton. Commines hastened to rejoin the king,
and by his order (expressed by signs, for he had not yet sufficiently
recovered his speech), he slept in his room, and served him at table and
in other respects, for fifteen days, as a valet de chambre. After two or
three days, Louis XI. recovered sense and speech, but not so perfectly
as to render Commines’ constant attentions unnecessary: for he alone
was able accurately to understand him. He was even obliged to act as
his interpreter to the official of Tours, and to acquaint him with the
state of mind of his royal penitent, “for otherwise they would not have
understood each other.” Public affairs remained for a time in suspense,
although Commines read most of the despatches which arrived to the king,
who either by word or sign indicated the answer he wished to have made;
but no one was willing to execute these doubtful orders. “We did little
business,” says Commines, “awaiting the termination of his illness; for
he was not a master to be trifled with.”
Towards the middle of the year, the king became sufficiently convalescent
to be able to inspect the troops which had been collected by his orders
near Pont-de-l’Arche. Thence he proceeded to Tours, where he had a
relapse; “again he lost his speech, and for two hours we thought he was
dead; he lay in a gallery, on a mattrass.” The servants who attended him,
Du Bouchage, Commines and others, vowed him to St. Claude; “immediately
his speech returned to him, and within the hour he went about the house
again.” He soon resumed his old habits, and made an excursion to one of
the estates he had given to Commines. He remained for a month at the
Chateau of Argenton; a longer time, probably, than he had intended, but
he was detained by illness. Such royal visits are usually an expensive
honour to those who receive them; but the chamberlain of Louis XI. did
not suffer by his hospitality, for his master contributed handsomely
to the embellishment of his residence. From Argenton the king went to
Thouars, where he made some stay, on account of ill-health; and on
leaving that town, he repaired to St. Claude, doubtless to perform the
vow made by his faithful servants. Before he left Thouars, he confided to
the Lord of Argenton a difficult and delicate mission, of which Commines
gives us only a confused idea; we will, therefore, briefly state its
object.
Yolande of France, Duchess of Savoy, had died on the 29th of August,
1478, leaving as her successor a son under thirteen years of age.
The appointment of a regent devolved on Louis XI., the uncle of the
young duke, who conferred that office on the Count de la Chambre, who,
he believed, would prove a pliant instrument in his hands. In this
expectation he was deceived, and the object of Commines’ mission was to
assist the Count of Bresse, one of the paternal uncles of the Duke of
Savoy, in deposing the obnoxious regent, and taking possession of the
government.
In the meanwhile, Louis XI. daily grew more infirm; his moral energy
alone sustained him, and, as in past times, he continued to travel about
the country. Commines, on his return from his embassy, joined him at
Beaujeu: and he was struck by the ravages which disease had wrought in
the person of the prince, whose last hour, he felt, was at hand. We shall
not attempt to describe the final scene; in his Memoirs, Commines has
given a wonderful picture of the dying agonies of his sovereign. Louis
XI. breathed his last on the 30th of August, 1483, and from that moment,
a new era began in the life of Commines, as fatal to his honour and
fortune, as the preceding period had been propitious to his ambition and
interests.
No sooner had the deceased monarch been laid in his grave than, in virtue
of letters patent granted by the new king, at the solicitation of the
La Tremoille family, Jean Douhalle, lieutenant-general of the Governor
of Touraine, proceeded to make inquiries to substantiate the fact that,
in his last moments, Louis XI., stung by remorse, had declared to the
Bailiff of Meaux that he had wrongfully and illegally seized on the
inheritance of La Tremoille, and had enjoined the bailiff to request the
dauphin to restore Talmont to its legitimate owners, and to compensate
Commines for its loss by the gift of a pension of 2000 livres. Ten
witnesses deposed unanimously to the truth of this statement: and in
consequence, on the 29th of September, 1483, Charles VIII. directed his
chancellor to reinstate the family of La Tremoille in the possession of
the property of which they had been so unjustly deprived.
Commines resisted this order on the ground that there were no title-deeds
to justify the restitution of the estates. But though these documents had
been destroyed, they had once existed; and numerous witnesses were ready
to reveal the manner in which they had been made away with. Inquiries
were instituted as to the result of the examination of the papers in the
Chateau de Thouars, and Commines himself was interrogated. At first he
could remember nothing, but on being compelled to speak, he strove hard
to make no confession which his enemies might afterwards turn against
him: but though his answers were carefully weighed, and coupled with
endless restrictions and explanations, he was unable to invalidate the
testimony of the other witnesses. Fully conscious of the weakness of
his cause, his only object was to gain time, and to this end, he put in
requisition all the thousand subtleties of legal chicanery. At length, on
the 9th of March, 1486, the parliament pronounced sentence against him.
Commines appealed, but in vain; and he was finally condemned to restore
to the La Tremoille family the estates of which they had been unjustly
deprived, to disgorge the revenues he had derived from them during his
unlawful possession, and to pay the expenses of the suit, amounting
altogether to 7811 livres 4 sous parisis. Thus, after having lasted
nineteen years, this affair was terminated, and Commines was enabled to
satisfy the demands of his opponents by means of an indemnity of 30,000
livres granted him by Charles VIII.
We must now take up our history at the death of Louis XI. One of the
first acts of Madame de Beaujeu, the eldest sister of Charles VIII., was
to confirm in their governments, positions and offices, all those who
had held them at the accession of the new king. This was a wise measure,
and Louis XI. had more than once repented that he had acted otherwise
towards the servants of his father. Commines was maintained on the list
of royal councillors, and continued in the office of Seneschal of Poitou.
Shortly afterwards, he was sent on an embassy to the Duke of Bretagne,
with the Lords of Châtillon and Richebourg. Finally, he had the honour to
be one of the fifteen notable persons whom the princess suggested to the
States-general for admission into the council of the young king. In that
council, at which the most important affairs of the realm were decided,
Commines one day had to defend the rights of Charles VIII. over the
county of Provence against the pretensions of a prince, Duke René II. of
Lorraine, whom all the courtiers treated with the greatest consideration.
He maintained the interests of the crown with so much heat that the
duke, in anger, addressed him “in rough and foolish words;” and even
succeeded in obtaining his banishment from court. The disgraced courtier
easily found a refuge with one of those princes who, dissatisfied with
the narrow share allotted to their ambition by the States-general of
the kingdom, held themselves aloof from Madame de Beaujeu, and openly
fomented rebellion against her administration. It was to Moulins, where
the Duke of Bourbon then resided, that the Lord of Argenton betook
himself. He met with a gracious reception, and his counsels were listened
to with favour: but the duke was a man of notoriously feeble character,
and Commines had to employ all his ingenuity to keep him faithful to the
opposition party. In this he so far succeeded as to induce the duke to
go to the king for the purpose of complaining of the evil administration
of his government; but one of the consequences of this interview between
Charles VIII. and his uncle was, that Commines was dismissed from the
Duke of Bourbon’s service. Upon this, he transferred his allegiance
to the Duke of Orleans, whose intrigues were secretly favoured by the
king himself, who, as he grew in years, became impatient of the wise,
but imperious control of Madame de Beaujeu. In concert with some other
nobles, Commines made an attempt to carry off the young king, and place
him under the care of the Duke of Orleans; but although Charles was
a party to their design, they failed, and he punished them for their
failure. Commines was arrested at Amboise, and conducted to Loches,
where he was confined for eight months in an iron cage, which had been
constructed by order of Louis XI. By decree of the Parliament of Paris,
his property was confiscated, and on the 17th of July, 1487, he was
brought to Paris, and imprisoned in the Conciergerie. There he remained
for twenty months, until, on the 24th of March, 1489, he was condemned to
be banished for ten years to one of his estates, and to give bail to the
amount of 10,000 golden crowns for his good behaviour.
Long before the expiration of this sentence, in December, 1492, Commines
had been recalled to his seat in the council of Charles VIII. He now
gave most evident proof of his sagacity and devotedness by joining, with
other enlightened servants of the crown, in a vain attempt to dissuade
the young monarch from engaging in an expedition into Italy. Interested
advice, however, prevailed over their wise counsels, and the conquest
of Naples was undertaken without funds, and almost without an army.
Notwithstanding his opposition to the projected expedition, Commines
was one of the first on horseback. He attended his master as far as
Asti, whence he was despatched on a mission to Venice, for the purpose
of aiding by diplomacy the progress of the king’s arms. He remained in
Venice for eight months, using every effort to prevent the formation of a
league of the States of Italy against Charles VIII. In this he might have
succeeded, had not the affairs of France and the position of the invading
army been so unfavourable as to frustrate all his efforts. The league was
formed, and when Commines received orders to rejoin the king at Sienna,
the French army was in retreat. He at once advised the king to hasten
his return to France; but his prudent counsel, far from being favourably
received, was greeted with incredulous laughter and boastful jeers. Much
precious time was wasted in frivolous amusements; and when at length,
Charles VIII. began his homeward march, he foolishly left garrisons in
many of the towns through which he passed, thus seriously diminishing his
own army without opposing any effectual barrier to the progress of his
enemies.
The presentiments of Commines were soon realised. On the 5th of July,
1495, the French king, on arriving at the village of Fornova, found
40,000 Italians drawn up in an excellent position, to bar his further
advance. The chances of success were not on the side of the French, and
at the suggestion of Commines, it was resolved to parley with the enemy.
The negotiation was entrusted to our historian, but before it could be
commenced, the two armies came to blows. Victory at first seemed to
incline to the Italians, but French impetuosity and discipline eventually
carried the day. Notwithstanding this unexpected victory, however,
Commines received orders to continue his negotiations; and mainly by his
exertions, the treaty of Verceil was signed, which restored the Duke of
Orleans to liberty, by raising the siege of Novara, and enabled Charles
VIII. and his army to return into France with all the honours of war.
Commines was next sent to Venice to obtain the ratification of this
treaty by the senate of that powerful republic. But after a fortnight’s
deliberation, the signiory refused to accede to the treaty, and offered,
in its stead, propositions which Commines undertook to submit to the
king. From Venice, he proceeded to Milan, to require the duke to execute
certain clauses in the treaty which he had signed. But that prince evaded
giving a categorical answer, and forced the envoy to take his leave
before he had obtained anything more than a false promise that the duke
would speedily fulfil all his engagements.
This was the end of Commines’ active career. On his return to France,
he continued his attendance on Charles VIII., but took no part in the
management of affairs beyond speaking and voting in the council. During a
temporary visit to his Chateau of Argenton, he received the news of the
king’s unhappy death. He hastened with all speed to Amboise, and passed
five or six hours in prayer by the body of his deceased sovereign. On
the following day, he went to pay his homage to the new king, from whom
he anticipated a favourable reception. But on ascending the throne, the
Duke of Orleans had forgotten past services as well as past injuries; and
Commines merely remained a member of the grand council, as during the
previous reign. He soon ceased even to attend the meetings of this body,
for his name appears on its registers for the last time on the 26th of
July, 1498. After this date he seems to have retired into private life,
and although he made a great effort in 1505 to obtain public employment,
through the influence of the queen, he was obliged to remain, for the
rest of his days, a mere spectator of the scenes and conflicts of
political life.
His activity meanwhile displayed itself in the conduct of his private
affairs. On the 13th of August, 1504, his daughter Jeanne de Commines was
contracted in marriage to René de Brosse, Count of Penthièvre, and heir
to the duchy of Bretagne; by which union the blood of Commines has passed
into the veins of more than one sovereign of the royal lines of France,
Spain, Portugal, and Savoy.
The last years of Commines were occupied and embittered by vexatious
lawsuits relating to the property of his wife, and to other matters, into
which it would be tedious to enter. He died at his Chateau of Argenton on
the 18th of October, 1511, at the age of about 64 years. In other times,
his death would have constituted almost a political event; but times
had changed. It was, however, sufficiently noticed to induce one writer,
whose name is unknown to us, to compose a sort of poem, deploring his
decease.
The mortal remains of Commines were conveyed to Paris, and interred
in the chapel which he had built in the Convent des Grands Augustins.
Those of the Countess de Penthièvre were soon laid by his side; and ere
long Helène de Chambes joined her husband and daughter in their last
resting-place. A splendid monument was erected by René de Bretagne to the
memory of his wife’s parents. The chapel has long since been destroyed,
but the statues of its founder and his wife, which formed part of their
monument, are still preserved in the Gallery of the Louvre.
To conclude this sketch in the words of his old biographer, Sleidan:
“Commines was tall, fair, well shaped, and of a comely personage. He
spoke Italian, Dutch, and Spanish incomparably well; but his excellence
consisted chiefly in the French, and he had read all the histories that
were extant in that language, especially that of the Romans. As he grew
in years, he extremely lamented his deficiency in the Latin tongue, and
complained of the little care that had been taken of his education in
that respect. He had a prodigious memory, and such a wonderful facility
in expressing his thoughts, that he would at the same time dictate to
four secretaries different things, all of them of great importance,
and with the same ease and dexterity as if there had been but one. His
conversation was chiefly among foreigners, as he was desirous to inform
himself of all things and places, and very careful of employing his time
well; so that he was never known to be idle.”