sanguinary drama was recapitulated before the court, whilst sentences,
often of savage severity, were recorded, and executions, for the most
part in effigy, were of daily occurrence, time was still found for
gaiety and amusement. Balls and assemblies went on, encouraged by the
President de Novion, in order to do pleasure to his daughters; and
all the ladies of quality in the province, as well as those gentlemen
who had managed to compound their offences, having established
themselves for the time at Clermont, there was no lack of dancers. And
the grave members of the tribunal did not disdain to mingle in these
terpsichorean gambols. But somehow or other there was always disorder
at the assemblies. Decidedly the demon of discord was abroad in
Auvergne. "Sometimes the ladies quarrelled, menaced each other, after
the manner of provincial dames, with what little credit they chanced to
possess, and were on the point of seizing each other by the hair and
fighting with their muffs. This disturbed the company, but they managed
to appease the disputants; and a few more _bourrées_ and _goignades_
were danced." The _bourrée d'Auvergne_, now confined to peasants and
water-carriers, was at that time a favourite and fashionable dance.
"There are very pretty women here," says Madame de Sévigné, writing
from Vichy, the 26th May, 1676. "Yesterday, they danced the _bourrées_
of the country, which are truly the prettiest in the world. They
give themselves a great deal of movement, and _dégogne_ themselves
exceedingly. But if at Versailles these dancers were introduced at
masquerades, people would be delighted by the novelty, for they even
surpass the _Bohemiennes_." Fléchier was scandalised by this peculiar
movement or _dégognement_, esteemed so captivating by the Marchioness.
He makes no doubt that these dancers are worthy successors of "the
Bacchantes of whom so much is spoken in the books of the ancients. The
bishop of Aleth excommunicates in his diocese those who dance in that
fashion. Nevertheless, the practice is so common in Auvergne, that
children learn at one time to walk and to dance."
Did space permit, we would gladly accompany the Abbé on other of the
excursions in the environs of Clermont, for which he continually finds
excuse in the necessity either of escorting ladies or of enjoying
the winter sunbeams. As at Riom, he always manages to pick up some
anonymous but intelligent acquaintance, to enlighten him concerning
the gossip of the country, and to father those sallies and inuendoes
of which he himself is unwilling to assume the responsibility. His
account of a visit to the Dominican convent is full of quiet satire.
He was accompanied by his friend Monsieur de B---- "a sensible man,
well acquainted with the belles lettres, and of very agreeable
conversation." M. de B---- is made the scapegoat for the sly hits at
the abuses of the church, and at the pictures and records of miracles
to which they are introduced by a simple and garrulous monk. There were
few founders of religious orders, they were informed, of such good
family as St Dominick, who was a grandee of Spain, and consequently
far superior to St Ignatius, whose nobility the Jesuits vaunted, and
who, after all, was but a mere gentleman. There were, of course,
many pictures of the grandee upon the church and cloister walls,
representing him engaged in various pious acts. "In one of them he was
depicted presenting a request to the Pope, surrounded by his cardinals,
whilst on the same canvass was seen the horse of Troy, dragged by Priam
and by the gentlemen and ladies of the town, with all the circumstances
related by Virgil in the second book of the Æneid." Fléchier was
considerably puzzled by this mixture of sacred and profane personages;
but his guide explained its singularity by assigning the picture to
a pious and learned monk, as well read in Virgil and Homer as in his
breviary, who made a good use of his reading, and was particularly
happy in employing it to the glorification of God and the saints.
Another picture represented a Dominican holding a pair of scales, in
one of which was a basket full of fruit, and in the other an empty
basket, with the inscription _Retribuat tibi Deus_. The promissory
note of the Jacobins was so heavy that it outweighed the laden basket.
The guide would fain have expatiated on the beauty of this allegory,
suggested, as he maintained, by a miracle actually wrought in favour of
his order, but Fléchier cut him short in his homily, and passed on to
the next painting, the representation of one of those "piously impious"
legends, as M. Gonod justly styles them, so often met with in monkish
chronicles. This one, in which the Saviour of mankind is represented
as supping with and converting a beautiful Roman courtesan, shocked
the religious feelings of the Abbé Fléchier in the year 1666, although
in the year 1832, it was not deemed too irreverent for reproduction in
a work entitled "Pouvoir de Marie," written by the notorious Liguori,
and published at Clermont Ferrand, by the Catholic Society for pious
books. "I could not help telling him," says Fléchier, "that I had seen
pictures more devout and touching than this one; that these disguises
of Jesus Christ as a gallant, were rather extraordinary; that there
are so many other stories more edifying, and, perhaps, truer...." Here
the monk interrupted the Abbé, and was about to repeat a whole volume
of miracles, compiled by one of the brotherhood, when the vesper bell
summoned him to prayer, to the great relief of Fléchier, who manifestly
disapproved as much the profane travesty of holy things, as the
lying miracles by which the Dominicans strove to attract into their
begging-box and larder the contributions of the credulously charitable.
We perhaps risk censure by terminating this paper without a more
minute consideration of the Grands-Jours themselves, the ostensible
subject of Fléchier's book, and without examining in greater detail
the nature of the crimes and characters of the culprits brought before
the arbitrary tribunal. Although we have shown that a large portion
of the _Mémoires_ consists of matters wholly unconnected with the
proceedings of the court, it must not be thence inferred that the Abbé
neglects his reporting duties, and does not frequently apply himself
to give long and elaborate accounts of the trials, especially of the
criminal ones. Many of these are sufficiently remarkable to merit a
place in the pages of the _Causes Célébres_. Some have actually found
their way thither. In Fléchier's narrative, their interest is often
obscured and diminished by wordiness and digression; and persons
interested in the civil or criminal jurisprudence of the period will
surely quarrel with the divine, who is a poor lawyer, apt to shirk
legal points, or, when he endeavours to unravel them, to make confusion
worse confounded. The state of society in Auvergne, in the seventeenth
century, is exhibited in a most unfavourable light. We find a brutal
and unchivalrous nobility, deficient in every principle of honour, and
even of common honesty, unfeeling to their dependents, discourteous to
ladies, perfidious to each other. Here we behold a nobleman of ancient
name offering his adversary in a duel the choice of two pistols, from
one of which he has drawn the ball, with a resolution to take his
advantage if the loaded weapon is left him, and to find a pretext for
discharging and reloading the other, should it fall to his share. He
gets the loaded pistol, and shoots his man. A gentleman of rank and
quality enforces the _droit de nôces_, formerly known in Auvergne by
a less decent name--but language, as Fléchier says, purifies itself
even in the most barbarous countries. And certainly there was much
of the barbarian in the Auvergnat, even so late as 1666. The odious
exaction referred to was compounded by payment of heavy tribute, often
amounting to half the bride's dowry. The Baron d'Espinchal was another
brilliant specimen of the aristocracy of Auvergne. After committing a
series of crimes we have no inclination to detail, he pursued his wife
(a daughter of the Marquis of Châteaumorand) with gross insult, even in
her convent-sanctuary at Clermont. The unfortunate lady had contracted
such a habit of fear, that she could not be in his presence without
trembling; and on his putting his hand to his pocket to take out his
watch, whilst separated from her by the grating of the convent parlour,
she thought he was about to draw a pistol, and fell fainting from her
chair. Numerous traits of this description prove baseness and brutality
as well as vice on the part of the higher orders of the province, who
appear to have been deficient in the military virtues and redeeming
qualities sometimes found in outlawed and desperate banditti. We should
have had less gratification in dwelling upon the crimes and excesses
narrated in the _Mémoires_, than we have derived from the consideration
of their lighter passages, and of the occasional eccentricities and
many admirable qualities of their estimable and reverend author.
DON JOHN OF AUSTRIA.
DON JOHN of Austria, the illegitimate son of the Emperor Charles V.
(for an account of whose life we purpose to lay under contribution
several curious documents lately published at Madrid) was born in 1545.
His parentage on the mother's side is not quite so certain. Brantôme,
Moreri, and others, after mentioning the Countess Barbe de Blomberghe
as Don John's putative mother, assert that, although Charles's
mistress, she certainly was not mother to Don John, whose parentage,
they hint, should be laid at the door of some far nobler dame. But
Ranke, and the best informed modern historians, affirm that Barbe de
Blomberghe was really Don John's mother. This lady belonged to a noble
family of Flanders, and was a celebrated beauty of her day. After
his love for her was extinct, Charles V. gave Barbe de Blomberghe,
with a large dowry, in marriage, to a certain Seigneur Rechem, who
held considerable possessions in the province of Luxemburg, and lived
constantly at Antwerp.
Don John's early life was passed in the farm-house of a rich peasant in
the vicinity of Liege, where the young lad was subjected to all manner
of privations, and early inured to hard labour and coarse fare,--a
fitting preparation for his future career. Brantôme mentions it as a
fact much to Don John's credit, that, in spite of this humble education
as a peasant, he showed no trace of vulgarity in after life, but, on
the contrary, that he had excellent and noble manners in the field and
in drawing-rooms. The emperor, Charles V., sent for the lad, when he
grew up, to come to Spain, rewarded the honest peasant for his trouble,
and announced to Don John the secret of his birth. Although the Emperor
loved the boy as the son of his old age, he gave him nothing during
his lifetime, of which the ardent young prince much complained, saying
that "the Emperor, having acknowledged him as his son, should have
given him the means of living befitting his rank and birth." At his
death, Charles left Don John nothing but a strong recommendation to his
successor Philip II. The only wish which escaped the dying monarch was,
that Don John should be educated for the church.
Meanwhile, Don John, who was but one year younger than Don Carlos, was
brought up with Philip's ill-starred son: and at this period of his
life a circumstance occurred which greatly influenced Don John's future
destiny. The boy revealed to Philip II. some hare-brained folly of
his son Don Carlos. This conduct gave the Spanish monarch so high an
opinion of his young brother's integrity and honour, that he determined
not to follow out Charles V.'s intentions, but to educate Don John for
the military, instead of the ecclesiastical profession. This was not
done, however, without strong opposition from some of Philip's royal
council. The conduct of Don John, however pleasing to Philip II., drew
upon the young prince the bitter animosity of Don Carlos who, ever
after, treated his companion with marked indignity: his hatred one day
went to the length of twitting Don John with his illegitimacy. Don
Carlos called him a bastard, _hijo de puta_. "Yes," said Don John, "I
am a bastard; but my father is a better man than yours:" whereupon the
two lads came to blows.
Passing over much of his early life, we come to the year 1569, when
Don John was sent against the Moors of Grenada. In this expedition
he developed considerable military talents, and gave such evidence
of personal courage, that the old captains and veteran soldiers who
remembered the early campaigns of his father, Charles V., called out
with one accord, "Ah! this is a true son of the Emperor." _Ea! es
verdadero hijo, del Emperador._ Don John returned from this campaign
covered with glory, and with the reputation of being one of the best
captains of the age.
Meanwhile, the infidels were making rapid progress in another part
of the globe. The taking of Cyprus by the Turks alarmed all Europe
to such a degree, that a league was formed between the Pope, the
Venetians, and the Spanish monarch, in order to put a stop to any
further inroads in this quarter; a fleet was manned, soldiers were
levied, to stem the threatened invasion of Christendom. Don John, whose
reputation was now exceedingly great, was selected for the command
of the allied forces. It had previously been offered to the Duke of
Anjou. At this time of his life, Don John was six-and-twenty, in the
full bloom of youth and manly strength. Lippomano, a Neapolitan,
describes him as "a person of a most beautiful presence and of
wonderful grace; with but little beard and large mustachios. His
complexion is fair, and he weareth his hair long and turned back over
his shoulders, the which is a great ornament unto him. He dresses
sumptuously, and with such care and neatness, that it is a sight to
see." "Moreover," adds Lippomano, "he is active and well-made, and
succeedeth beyond measure in all manly exercises."[31] No one rode,
no one wielded the sword better than the young hero, who, moreover,
had all the popular qualities fitted to ingratiate him with women and
soldiers--he was gracious, affable, and open-handed. Even at this
early age, Don John lamented that he had not already won by his own
right handsome independent kingdom of his own. To the attainment of
this object he looked confidently to the league or to the Venetians;
and the great victory of Lepanto, which he gained at the head of the
allied fleets,--to which period in the life of our hero we have now
arrived,--seemed to justify his expectations; in this, however, he was
doomed to be disappointed.
The battle of Lepanto was fought on the 7th October, 1571. On the
side of the allies were about two hundred large galleys, six smaller
ones, and twenty-two other vessels; of these, eighty-one galleys
and thirty frigates belonged to Spain, the rest to his holiness the
Pope, and to the Venetians. The armament on board consisted of about
twenty-one thousand fighting men, of whom eleven or twelve thousand
were Spaniards, the rest Italians and Germans. Don John, like a good
general, had carefully seen that the galleys were well-provided
with ammunition: each galley, in addition to its regular crew and
armament, had one hundred and fifty extra soldiers on board. The
Turkish fleet consisted of two hundred and twenty-five large galleys,
and seventy other smaller vessels, on board of which were, in all,
about twenty-five thousand fighting men. The Turks came sailing down
the wind, full upon the allied fleet, with a confidence acquired by
the frequency of their victories over the Spanish vessels, which they
had been in the habit of seizing and carrying as prizes into Argel
and other ports. The Turks, moreover, had the advantage of the sun
in their backs, and consequently it poured its hot rays full in the
face of the Christian host. Don John of Austria was at first in some
trouble, as Don Alvaro de Bazan, the Marquis de Santa Cruz, commanding
the Neapolitan squadron, was by some means detained behind, as well as
Don Juan de Cardona, who had gone with eight galleys to reconnoitre
a distant port. Don John, however, despatched a few quick-sailing
frigates in search of them, the moment the Turkish fleet hove in
sight. Meanwhile, Don John and the crew of his vessel, as well as the
crews and soldiers of all those galleys which were near him, raised
crucifixes and standards, knelt down on the decks of their vessels, and
made humble supplication to the Almighty to give them the victory. Don
John, with a soldier's heart, had a strong dash of the priest in his
composition. Absolution was likewise given, during this interval of
peace, to all who might so soon render up their souls to God, by Fray
Juan Machuca, Alonso Serrano, Juan de Huarca, and other Franciscan and
Capuchin friars and Jesuits who accompanied the expedition. Luckily,
at this moment the wind lulled, and the Turkish squadron was forced
to come slowly on with their oars. This happy incident gave Don John
plenty of time to arrange his order of battle.
It was mid-day on the 7th October 1571 before the two armadas came
together, and Don John fired a gun as a signal to his fleet to commence
the attack. By this time, most fortunately, the Marquis de Santa Cruz,
with the Neapolitan galleys, had arrived. Don John ordered all the
brigantines and other light and fast-sailing vessels to retire from the
scene of action, so that no one might think of escaping, but should
fight to the last. When the armadas approached each other, Don John
ordered the trumpets to sound the charge, and exhorted his people to
prepare for action. On nearing the Turkish fleet, Don John was able to
recognise the galley of the Turkish admiral, Basa Hali, (Ali Pasha)
by its ensign and sacred standard. Don John ordered his own vessel
to bear down upon the Turk, who reserved his fire until the Spanish
vessel was within half a boat's length, when he fired three shots;
the first carried away some of the bulwarks of the vessel, killing
several of the galley-slaves at their oars; the second passed over
the caboose or kitchen on board Don John's vessel, which was occupied
by soldiers armed with arquebuses; while the third shot went over the
heads of several soldiers who were intrenched in one of the boats on
deck. Don John, who had likewise reserved his fire, now poured in a
volley, which did infinite mischief to the Turk; and the two galleys
ran into one another with a mighty crash, and got hopelessly entangled.
The battle now became general, and raged furiously on both sides. No
less than eleven other vessels were engaged in the immediate vicinity
of Don John and Ali Pasha, and all the several crews fought hand to
hand. The Turkish admiral was supported by seven other Turkish galleys,
while Don John was assisted by five large vessels of his own side, of
which one was the Roman galley, La Grifona, commanded by Marco Antonio
Colonna, and the others were Venetian or Spanish. For one whole hour
the fighting continued without either party apparently getting the best
of it. Twice did the Spaniards carry the decks of the Turkish admiral's
vessel, and twice were they driven back with tremendous slaughter.
Once they had almost reached the Turkish flag-staff. The caboose of
Don John's vessel, filled with picked men under Don Pedro Zapata, did
infinite service; one man alone fired forty rounds of cartridge. At
the end of an hour and a half's hard fighting, victory inclined to the
side of the Spaniards. The Pasha and above five hundred of his men
were killed, his sons made prisoners, his standard pulled down, and
the Cross planted in its stead. About the same time the other galleys
near Don John's vessel likewise forced their way through the Turkish
squadron. Don John now ordered victory to be loudly proclaimed, and had
time to look about him, so as to bring assistance where it was most
needed.
On his return from his reconnoitering cruise, Don Juan de Cardona,
admiral of the Sicilian forces, had fallen in with some fifteen
Turkish galleys, which he kept employed until Don John of Austria bore
down triumphantly to his assistance, and captured the infidels. Of
five hundred Spaniards who were with Don Juan de Cardona, not fifty
escaped without a wound of some sort. It was in this same battle of
Lepanto that Miguel Cervantes lost his arm, and most of our readers
will recollect how the brave soldier tells the story of his own life
in the fortieth chapter of Don Quixote de la Mancha. The Marquis de
Santa Cruz fought most bravely, and twice narrowly escaped death--two
shots from an arquebuse glanced off from his armour of proof. In this
battle the Turks lost 117 galleys and some other smaller vessels;
117 cannon, 17 mortars and 256 smaller guns, and 3,486 slaves; all
which booty was divided among the Spaniards, the Venetians, and the
Pope. The sacred standard of Mecca, of which Luis Marmol has written
a glowing description, was sent, together with the news of this great
victory, to Philip II., and reached the Escurial in November 1571. This
standard was about as large as a sheet; the white ground was covered
with writing in the Arabic character, and most of the letters were
gilt. It was burnt in the great fire which destroyed the monastery of
the Escurial in 1671, just one hundred years after it had graced those
walls.
When the news of this great victory reached Philip II., he was
attending vespers at the church of the Escurial. A loud "_Te Deum
laudamus_" was immediately sung with the whole strength of the choir,
and the following day a solemn procession took place "_in gratiarum
actione_," at which the austere monarch assisted. We cannot do better
than quote a short letter, written to Philip's trusty and confidential
secretary, Antonio Perez, by one Francisco Murillo, who was engaged in
the battle of Lepanto; the letter is dated the 9th October 1571, two
days after the victory.