By E. SPENCER BEESLY, M.A.
(1423-1483.)
[Illustration: A group of men. [TN]]
During the Middle Ages there was a constant struggle in the West between
the two elements of the temporal power--the central, or national, and
the local, or that of the great vassals. Gradually the local governments
all merged in large aggregates, in each of which a single national
government gathered to itself all military, civil, and judicial
functions. This movement was already in progress before the end of the
thirteenth century. By the end of the fifteenth the struggle was
substantially decided, though it did not come completely to an end till
the latter part of the seventeenth century.
In France, as in most countries, the agent in this organizing and
nationalizing movement was the crown. Almost every French monarch did
something toward enforcing recognition of the royal authority in all
parts of that country which by geographical conditions, as well as by
its history, was fitted for political unity. But, either because they
did not see their way to undertaking the direct government of so large
an area, or because they were themselves under the dominion of feudal
ideas, they did not always avail themselves of their frequent
opportunities for extinguishing the local governments of the fiefs
which fell into their hands. The Valois kings granted many of them as
appanages to their younger sons, and so created a new set of great
vassals, who revived the struggle for feudal independence. The most
dangerous of these, the Duke of Burgundy, openly aided the English
invaders. This prince, besides his French fiefs, possessed the yet more
important territories now known as Belgium and the Netherlands. Charles
VII., the father of Louis XI., having expelled the English, established
a permanent force of nine thousand cavalry--the first standing army in
modern times.
During the life of his father, Louis was not a dutiful subject. His
masterful spirit could brook no superior. He even conspired with the
rebel vassals. But as king (1461-1483) he pursued the policy of his
greatest predecessors with undaunted courage, patient perseverance, and
political genius of the highest order. At first he was too much in a
hurry. He tried to clip the wings of all his vassals at once. He
irritated the industrial classes by severe taxation. He drove into exile
or rebellion his father's ablest generals and councillors. This brought
upon him the so-called "League of Public Welfare," headed by Charles the
Bold, heir of Burgundy, which aimed at a virtual dismemberment of
France. Persevering as Louis was, he had none of the weak obstinacy
which cannot distinguish between means and ends. Finding himself
overmatched, though he had cut his way through the hosts of rebels at
Montlhery, he conceded to them everything they demanded. By the treaty
of Conflans (1465) he might seem to have flung up the game in despair,
and to have signed the ruin of France. But his high Court of Justice
(Parlement), by refusing to register the treaty, gave him an excuse for
evading its performance, and by negotiating with the princes separately
he broke up their coalition. The peaceful and industrious classes stood
by him, and he studiously cared for their interests; mixing familiarly
with the citizens of Paris, dining at their houses, standing godfather
to their children, putting aside all state and ceremony, and even
dressing in humble attire. The precautions of his residence at Plessis
belong only to the last months of his life, when he was old and
paralytic. Never ashamed to own a mistake and to retrace false steps, he
won back the most valuable of his father's servants, whom he had at
first driven away. His designs against feudalism were not for a moment
suspended. But instead of attacking all his vassals at once he took them
in detail; while one was being crushed, others were humored till their
turn came.
[Illustration: Louis XI. and Olivier Le Dain.]
As a young man he had shown warlike tastes and brilliant personal valor;
but as king he always preferred negotiation and policy. It was a too
daring confidence in his mastery of these weapons which led him to risk
his famous visit to Charles the Bold, at Peronne (1468), so vividly
painted by Scott in "Quentin Durward," who, however, omits to mention
the safe-conduct which Charles basely violated. At such critical moments
Louis's nerve became steadiest and his intellect most acute. The
concessions extorted from him at Peronne seemed to undo the work of
years; but when once he was free he found means to remedy all the
mischief that had been done. "Never," says his Minister Comines, "was
there a man so sagacious in adversity; when he drew back it was to make
a longer spring." In another war with Burgundy, Edward IV., of England,
landed with a large army (1475). To warlike nobles it seemed very base
that Louis bought off the invaders instead of rushing upon another Crecy
or Agincourt; but he thoroughly despised such criticism. He had an army,
and a good one; but if a round sum of money would effect his purpose
more cheaply, surely, and speedily, why should he expose his subjects to
the horrors and losses of war? Two years later Charles fell at Nancy,
fighting against the Swiss, who were in the pay of Louis. It was the
death-blow of feudalism. Louis promptly seized the duchy of Burgundy and
some other territories of the deceased duke. Altogether, during his
reign, he brought eleven provinces under the direct government of the
crown--Brittany being the only great fief which at his death remained
independent. He had thus assured the unity of France and her
preponderance in Europe.
Hardly less important services to his country were his establishment of
order and good administration, his financial and judicial reforms, his
encouragement of industry and commerce. "He effected," says Lavallee,
"attempted, or projected, all the innovations of modern France."
Diplomacy, the modern makeshift for the international office of the
mediaeval papacy, dates from him. Historians have dwelt on his cruelty,
perfidy, and superstition.[12] Turbulent nobles, like St. Pol and
Armagnac, were brought to the block; treacherous ministers, like
Cardinal La Balue, were kept for years in iron cages; vulgar criminals
swung from gibbets on every highroad. But this severity toward ruffians
of high and low degree, who had preyed on the country for the best part
of the century, wrought peace and prosperity for the law-abiding and
industrious. In the decay of feudal manners and Catholic discipline, the
sentiment of honor had almost vanished from public life. But, judged
relatively to his times, Louis is not to be branded as perfidious. He
did not scruple to break treaties contrary to the interests of his
country, which had been extorted from him by force; but he was more
straightforward than his principal contemporaries. Twice, when he could
have got rid of Charles the Bold by acts of treachery, which in those
days no one would have blamed, he chose the honorable course. To
reproach a man of the fifteenth century with superstition, because he
thought there might be some efficacy in images and relics, is an abuse
of language. If he clung to life it was because he felt that so much of
his projected work remained unfinished. He met death with remarkable
fortitude, his thoughts and efforts being to the last moment occupied
with the affairs, not of his soul, but of his country. His minister and
intimate friend, Comines, has left a faithful and judicious account of
his life. Two great poets have dealt unfairly with him: Scott could not
forgive the foe of feudalism; Hugo was blinded by democratic prejudices.
[Footnote 12: It is said that Louis was a firm believer in
astrology, that he wore a cap set round with leaden images of
the saints to which he prayed, but told them falsehoods even in
his prayers. His choice of a confidential adviser was perhaps
his greatest offence in the eyes of the nobility, for he
selected his barber, Olivier le Dain, or Oliver the Devil. This
man mocked his master even while he served him. Our engraving,
after the painting of Hermann Kaulbach, represents both in
characteristic positions.]