Our Edward the Fourth was dissipated and voluptuous; and probably owed
his crown to his handsomeness, his enormous debts, and passion for the
fair sex. He had many Jane Shores. Honest Philip de Comines, his
contemporary, says, "That what greatly contributed to his entering
London as soon as he appeared at its gates was the great debts this
prince had contracted, which made his creditors gladly assist him; and
the high favour in which he was held by the _bourgeoises_, into whose
good graces he had frequently glided, and who gained over to him their
husbands, who, for the tranquillity of their lives, were glad to depose
or to raise monarchs. Many ladies and rich citizens' wives, of whom
formerly he had great privacies and familiar acquaintance, gained over
to him their husbands and relations."
This is the description of his voluptuous life; we must recollect that
the writer had been an eye-witness, and was an honest man.
"He had been during the last twelve years more accustomed to his ease
and pleasure than any other prince who lived in his time. He had nothing
in his thoughts but _les dames_, and of them more than was _reasonable_;
and hunting-matches, good eating, and great care of his person. When he
went in their seasons to these hunting-matches, he always had carried
with him great pavilions for _les dames_, and at the same time gave
splendid entertainments; so that it is not surprising that his person
was as jolly as any one I ever saw. He was then young, and as handsome
as any man of his age; but he has since become enormously fat."
Since I have got old Philip in my hand, the reader will not, perhaps, be
displeased, if he attends to a little more of his _naïveté_, which will
appear in the form of a _conversazione_ of the times. He relates what
passed between the English and the French Monarch.
"When the ceremony of the oath was concluded, our king, who was desirous
of being friendly, began to say to the king of England, in a laughing
way, that he must come to Paris, and be jovial amongst our ladies; and
that he would give him the Cardinal de Bourbon for his confessor, who
would very willingly absolve him of any _sin_ which perchance he might
commit. The king of England seemed well pleased at the invitation, and
laughed heartily; for he knew that the said cardinal was _un fort bon
compagnon_. When the king was returning, he spoke on the road to me; and
said that he did not like to find the king of England so much inclined
to come to Paris. 'He is,' said he, 'a very _handsome_ king; he likes
the women too much. He may probably find one at Paris that may make him
like to come too often, or stay too long. His predecessors have already
been too much at Paris and in Normandy;' and that 'his company was not
agreeable _this side of the sea_; but that, beyond the sea, he wished
to be _bon frère et amy_.'"
I have called Philip de Comines _honest_. The old writers, from the
simplicity of their style, usually receive this honourable epithet; but
sometimes they deserve it as little as most modern memoir writers. No
enemy is indeed so terrible as a man of genius. Comines's violent enmity
to the Duke of Burgundy, which appears in these memoirs, has been traced
by the minute researchers of anecdotes; and the cause is not honourable
to the memoir-writer, whose resentment was implacable. De Comines was
born a subject of the Duke of Burgundy, and for seven years had been a
favourite; but one day returning from hunting with the Duke, then Count
de Charolois, in familiar jocularity he sat himself down before the
prince, ordering the prince to pull off his boots. The count laughed,
and did this; but in return for Comines's princely amusement, dashed the
boot in his face, and gave Comines a bloody nose, From that time he was
mortified in the court of Burgundy by the nickname of the _booted head_.
Comines long felt a rankling wound in his mind; and after this domestic
quarrel, for it was nothing more, he went over to the king of France,
and wrote off his bile against the Duke of Burgundy in these "Memoirs,"
which give posterity a caricature likeness of that prince, whom he is
ever censuring for presumption, obstinacy, pride, and cruelty. This Duke
of Burgundy, however, it is said, with many virtues, had but one great
vice, the vice of sovereigns, that of ambition!
The impertinence of Comines had not been chastised with great severity;
but the nickname was never forgiven: unfortunately for the duke, Comines
was a man of genius. When we are versed in the history of the times, we
often discover that memoir-writers have some secret poison in their
hearts. Many, like Comines, have had the boot dashed on their nose.
Personal rancour wonderfully enlivens the style of Lord Orford and
Cardinal de Retz. Memoirs are often dictated by its fiercest spirit; and
then histories are composed from memoirs. Where is TRUTH? Not always in
histories and memoirs!