34. Margaret, Duchess of Burgundy, widow of the late Duke
Charles, is comprehended in this treaty, and she shall have the
full enjoyment of the lands of Chaussins and La Perrière, upon
the repaying of twenty thousand crowns in gold to the country
of Burgundy; and in case, by the death of the young duke, those
countries should come into the hands of France, she shall be
maintained fully in her dower, and find all kind assistance, as
a cousin and relation, from the King and Dauphin.
35. A general act of indemnity is agreed to on both sides, in
as ample manner as could be desired by offenders.
36. The subjects and adherents of both parties shall be
reinstated in their dignities, benefices, fiefs, lands,
signiories, and other inheritances, rents, &c., without being
called in question for any thing that happened during the
war, and notwithstanding any declarations, confiscations, and
arrests, to the contrary whatsoever.
37. If the inheritances of any persons who followed the fortune
of the adverse party have been sold in court for the payment of
their debts, they shall forthwith re-enter upon the peace, and
pay their debts within a year after; if not, the order of court
shall stand.
38. In case the debts were purely personal, for which the
inheritance of the followers of the opposite party have been
sold, the debtor shall return to his inheritance, without
making any compensation to the purchaser.
39. The subjects on both sides shall return to the possession
of their immoveable goods, as well before the troubles begun in
Duke Charles’s time, as after.
40. As to the profits and income of estates, which have been
levied by the commanders of the respective parties, those
that received them shall never be accountable for them, and
no prosecution in law, upon that account, shall take effect
against them.
41. All personal debts granted by the princes, or pursuant to
their order, shall be theirs who had the grant of them. As to
all other moveables in being upon the peace, they shall belong
to those that had them before the war, without any molestation
or any impediment whatsoever.
42. The town of St. Omer and its dependencies, are fully
discharged of all rewards, remissions, &c., which have been
granted them.
43. The Duke of Austria and his children are, by this treaty,
fully discharged of all debts they may owe to those who adhered
to the contrary party, and they and their descendants shall
never be molested for them.
44. Upon returning to their possessions, nobody shall take any
oath to the prince or lord under whom the said possessions are,
saving vassals and feoffees.
45. The widow of the late Peter of Luxemburg, and the ladies
Mary and Frances, her daughters, shall be restored to their
estates, as well those which they enjoyed in the lifetime of
Lewis de Luxemburg, Count of St. Paul, Madame Jane de Bar his
wife, and John de Luxemburg, Count of Marle, their eldest son.
In like manner, Monsieur de Croy, Count of Porcien, is restored
particularly to the County of Porcien, the granaries belonging
to the castle of Cambarsay, Montcornet, and other appanages, in
the signiory of Bar-sur-Aube, and other places in Picardy.
46. The King shall favour the Count de Romont, in his
pretensions to the county of Romont, and the county of Vaux;
and as for the Princes and Princesses of Orange, the Count of
Joigny, Liepart de Chalon, the Lord of Lorme, Messieurs William
de la Beaume, Du Lain, Claude de Toulongeon, and the Sieur de
la Bastie, they are comprehended in this peace, and shall be
re-instated.
47. In like manner, the monks of Anchin are restored to their
abbey; so are those of the church and abbey of St. Wast
d’Arras, and the inhabitants of Arras, whether they have
withdrawn into the one or the other prince’s country, shall
freely return home, and follow their respective occupations,
without any let or hindrance, as before the war.
48. The heirs of those who have been put to death for adhering
to the party opposite to him under whom they lived, shall
return to their estates and succeed. The widows also of such
shall have their rights and dowries.
49. As to persons enjoying their own, they shall not be obliged
to go and reside where their estates are, either in the one or
the other countries.
50. The King consents to free the county of Artois, the towns
of Arras, Aire, Lens, Bapaume, Bethune, their villages, and the
chastellany of Lilliers, from the tax called the ordinary aid
of Artois, and all other extraordinary aids, for the space of
six years, from the day of the date of the peace: and seeing
the late Duchess of Austria hath exempted the hospitals of
Douay, &c., from paying any taxes to the county of Artois for
their inheritances, the King and Dauphin confirm the same
privileges.
51. Those who shall return to their possessions shall not be
accountable for any rent due during the war; and the lands
which, by reason of the war, have been untilled, shall have no
rent paid for them till next Christmas.
52. Those who, at their entry upon fiefs and inheritances, are
obliged to pay fines and other duties to their lords, shall
have three months allowed them to do it, after the peace, and
so remain unmolested.
53. The nobility and feoffees of the territories of the Duke
of Austria, and his son Philip, shall not be obliged to serve
under any but them, or their lieutenants; and in case that
they, or one of them, should be in the King’s service, if they
are not there in person, the other shall not be obliged to
serve in person, but may send another.
54. The decrees and sentences made in the court of Malines, as
also of the grand council of the Dukes Philip and Charles, the
Duchess Mary and the present duke, shall stand good, and not be
brought into question before the Parliament of Paris, or any
other sovereign court. But those suits and clauses which are
not yet decided in the said courts, shall be brought before the
Parliament of Paris, and there be determined.
55. In like manner, mortmains, compositions, new acquests, and
ennoblings, made by the said dukes and duchess, shall remain
good; only the subjects of the county of Artois shall be
obliged to take new patents for their nobility, which shall be
granted without any charge to them.
56. The abolitions, remissions, and pardons, granted by Duke
Charles, his daughter, and the dukes of Austria, to the
counties of Flanders, Lille, Douay, Artois, and Burgundy, shall
be valid; only the subjects of Artois shall sue them out as
before.
57. The inhabitants on the frontiers of the duke, and others
subject to the French crown, cited to appear in person in the
court of Parliament, or before the royal judges, shall appear
only by their proctors, during the minority of the said lady;
and the same privilege is granted to St. Omer. Those preferred
to livings by Duke Charles, his daughter, &c., shall remain in
quiet possession of them, notwithstanding any pretence of a
pragmatic sanction, or the like, to the contrary.
58. Tournay, Tournesis, St. Amand, and Mortagne, are
comprehended in this treaty; and any places the King may have
in the duchy of Luxemburg, shall be restored to the Archduke,
and his son Philip; so shall also the houses of Flanders, and
of Conflans, and the house of Artois in the said country.
59. After the lady shall be delivered into the hands of those
appointed to receive her for the Dauphin, the troops, for the
benefit of trade, shall be withdrawn by the King from the
little places on the frontiers; and for the larger ones, the
garrisons shall be regulated to the satisfaction of the Duke of
Austria, and the States of the country.
60. As for the Duke’s desiring to have the King of England and
Duke of Bretagne comprehended in the treaty, it is answered,
“the English are in truce with France, and for the Duke of
Bretagne, the King is at peace with him.”
61. The King, after the peace, will assist the duke against
William of Aremberg, the Liegeois, and all others that shall
invade Brabant, &c.
62. The Duke’s subjects shall have all manner of protection and
encouragement, in respect to navigation and commerce, equally
with those of France.
63. Any prizes taken after the publication of the peace shall
be restored, for the prevention whereof, the peace shall on
both sides be proclaimed without delay.
64. Such as are malefactors and delinquents, after the peace,
shall be seized on both sides, and returned to be punished by
the parties to whom they belong.
65. The infractors and violators of this peace, be they who
they will, shall be punished unfeignedly for an example to
others, in the places where they are taken.
66. In case this peace should in any way be contravened, it
shall not be reputed an infraction or rupture; but the breach
shall forthwith be made up, and reparation made, without coming
to hostilities either by sea or land, before the King and the
Duke’s ambassadors have met together to adjust the difference
in an amicable way.
67. It is agreed, that as soon as the said lady is brought
to Lisle or Douay, and before she be conducted to Arras, the
promises and sureties which follow shall be given the Duke and
States. That in case the Dauphin do not accomplish the marriage
in due time, the said lady shall be returned, at the King’s
or Dauphin’s charge, to her father or brother, in one of the
good towns of Brabant, Flanders, or Hainault, in the Duke’s
possession; and the King and Dauphin, in that case, shall quit
all pretensions for keeping the territories and countries
of Artois, Burgundy, Charolois, Maconnois, Auxerrois, the
lordships of Salins, Bar-sur-Seine, and Noyers, and surrender
them to the Duke in the name of his son Philip, while under
age, or to Philip when of age, reserving only the homage and
sovereignty to him.
68. The King shall also, upon the failure of the marriage,
renounce his right to Lisle, Douay, and Orchies, and consent
they shall belong for ever to the Counts and Countesses of
Flanders.
69. The signing, sealing, and ratifying of all the premises
in ample and due form, shall be done by the parties on either
sides. The treaty shall also be registered and verified in
the court of the Parliament of Paris, and in the Chambers of
Accompts, and of the Finances.
The rest of the articles being mere matter of form, concerning
the observation of the treaty, are omitted.
CH. VII.—How the King sent for the Holy Man of Calabria to Tours,
supposing he could cure him; and of the strange Things that were done by
the King, during his Sickness, to preserve his Authority.—1482.
Among men renowned for devotion, King Louis sent into Calabria for one
Friar Robert[98], who, for the holiness and purity of his life, was
called the “Holy Man;” and in honour to whom our present King erected a
monastery at Plessis-du-Parc, in compensation for the chapel near Plessis
at the end of the bridge.[99] This hermit, at the age of twelve years,
was put into a hole in a rock, where he lived until the age of three
and forty years and upwards, when the King sent for him by a steward of
his household[100], in the company of the Prince of Tarento, the son of
the King of Naples. For this hermit would not stir without leave from
his Holiness, and from his king, which was great discretion in a man
so inexperienced in the affairs of the world, though he had built two
churches in the place where he lived; and he never had eaten flesh, fish,
eggs, milk, or any thing that was fat[101], since he undertook that
austerity of life, nor has he yet; and truly I never saw any man living
so holy, nor out of whose mouth the Holy Ghost did more manifestly speak;
for he was not illiterate, though he had never been taught; only his
Italian tongue was a great assistance to him.
This hermit passed through Naples, where he was respected, and visited
(with as much pomp and ceremony, as if he had been the Pope’s Legate)
both by the King of Naples and his children, with whom he conversed as
if he had been all the days of his life a courtier. From thence he went
to Rome, where he was visited by all the cardinals, had audience three
times of the Pope, and was every time alone with him three or four hours,
sitting beside him in a rich chair (which was great honour for a person
of his low condition), and answering so discreetly to everything that was
asked him, that everybody was astonished at it, and his Holiness gave him
leave to institute a new order, called the Hermits of St. Francis. From
Rome he came to our king[102], who paid him the same honour as he would
have done to the Pope himself, falling down upon his knees before him,
and begging him to prolong his life: to which he replied as a prudent
man ought. I have heard him often in discourse with the present king, in
the presence of all the nobility of the kingdom, and that not above two
months ago; and it seemed to me that whatever he said or remonstrated,
was suggested by inspiration, or else it would have been impossible for
him to have spoken of some things that he discoursed of. He is still
living, and may grow either better or worse, and therefore I will say
nothing. There were some of the courtiers that made a jest of the king’s
sending for this hermit, and called him the Holy Man, by way of banter;
but they knew not the thoughts of that wise king, and had not seen what
it was that induced him to do it.
Our king was at Plessis, with little company but his archers, and the
suspicions I mentioned before, against which he had carefully provided;
for he allowed no person, of whom he had any suspicion, to remain either
in the town or country; but he sent his archers not only to warn, but to
conduct them away. No business was communicated to him but what was of
great importance, and highly concerned him. To look upon him one would
have thought him rather a dead than a living man. He was grown so lean,
it was scarce credible: his clothes were now richer and more magnificent
than they had ever been before; his gowns were all of crimson satin,
lined with rich martens’ furs, of which he gave several away, without
being requested; for no person durst ask a favour of him, or scarce speak
to him of any thing. He inflicted very severe punishments to inspire
dread, and for fear of losing his authority, as he told me himself. He
removed officers, disbanded soldiers, retrenched pensions, and sometimes
took them away altogether; so that, as he told me not many days before
his death, he passed his time in making and ruining men; which caused
him to be talked of more than any of his predecessors, and he did this
that his subjects might take notice he was not yet dead; for few were
admitted into his presence (as I said before), and when they heard of his
vagaries, nobody was willing to believe he was sick.
He also sent agents to all foreign courts. In England, their business
was to carry on the treaty of marriage[103], and pay King Edward and
his ministers of state their pensions very punctually. In Spain, their
instructions were to amuse that court with fair words, and to distribute
presents as they found it necessary for the advancement of his affairs.
In remoter countries, where he had no mind his indisposition should be
known, he caused fine horses or mules to be bought at any rate whatever;
but this was not done in France. He had a mighty curiosity for dogs[104],
and sent into foreign countries for them; into Spain for mastiffs; into
Bretagne for greyhounds and spaniels; to Valentia for little shaggy dogs;
and bought them at a dearer price than the people asked. He sent into
Sicily to buy a mule of an officer of that country, and paid him double
the value. At Naples he bought horses; and purchased strange creatures
wherever they could be found, such as a sort of lions from Barbary[105]
no bigger than foxes, and which are called adits. He sent into Sweden
and Denmark for two sorts of beasts those countries afforded; one of
them called an elk, of the shape of a stag, and the size of a buffalo,
with short and thick horns; the other, called reindeers, of the shape
and colour of a fallow deer, but with much larger horns; indeed I have
seen reindeers with fifty-four horns; for six of each of which beasts he
gave the merchants four thousand five hundred Dutch florins.[106] Yet,
when all these rarities were brought to him, he never valued them, and
many times would not so much as see the persons who brought them to him.
In short, he behaved himself after so strange a manner, that he was more
formidable, both to his neighbours and subjects, than he had ever been
before; and indeed that was his design, and the motive which induced him
to act so unaccountably.
CH. VIII.—Of the Conclusion of the Marriage between the Dauphin and
Margaret of Flanders, and how she was brought into France; upon which
Edward IV., King of England, died with displeasure.—1482-3.
But to return to our principal design, and to the conclusion of these
Memoirs, and the affairs of all the illustrious persons of the age in
which they were transacted, it is absolutely necessary for us to speak
of the conclusion of the marriage between our present king (then Dauphin
of France) and the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Austria, which
was effected by the mediation of the citizens of Ghent, to the great
displeasure of the King of England, who found himself deluded in the
hopes he had entertained of marrying his daughter to the Dauphin, of
which marriage both himself and his queen were more ambitious than of
any other match in the world; and never would believe any man, whether
subject or foreigner, that endeavoured to persuade them that our king’s
intentions were not sincere and honourable. For the Parliament of
England had remonstrated to King Edward several times, when our king was
in Picardy, that after he had conquered that province he would certainly
fall upon Calais and Guynes, which are not far off. The ambassadors from
the Duke and Duchess of Austria, as also those from the Duke of Bretagne,
who were continually in England at that time, represented the same thing
to him, but to no purpose; for he would believe nothing of it[107], and
he suffered greatly for his incredulity: yet I am entirely of opinion
his conduct proceeded not so much from ignorance as avarice, for he was
afraid to lose his annual pension of fifty thousand crowns, which our
master paid very punctually; and, besides, he was unwilling to leave his
ease and pleasures, to which he was extremely given.
There was a conference held at Halots, in Flanders, about this marriage,
at which the Duke of Austria (now King of the Romans) was present, with
several commissioners from the three Estates of Flanders, Brabant, and
other territories belonging to the Duke and his children. There the
Gantois did several things contrary to the Duke’s inclination; for they
banished his officers, removed old servants from about his son, told him
their desire to have the marriage concluded, in order to establish peace,
and forced him to an accommodation, whether he would or not. The Duke
was very young, and but scantily provided with sense; for all belonging
to the house of Burgundy were either slain or revolted to France, or at
least the greatest part, I mean of such as were capable of advising him;
so that coming thither with a small retinue, and having lost his duchess,
who was sovereign in those provinces, he durst not speak so boldly to his
subjects as when she was alive. In short, the King was informed of all
these proceedings by the Lord des Cordes, and was very well pleased; and
a day was set for the young lady to be conducted to Hesdin.
A few days before, in the year 1481, Aire was delivered up, for a sum of
money[108], to the Lord des Cordes, by the Lord de Cohem (a gentleman
of Artois), who had held it under his captain, the Lord de Beurs[109],
for the Duke of Austria, a good while. The surrender of this town, which
was very strong, and situated in Artois, at the very entrance into their
country, helped the Flemings to hasten the marriage, for though they were
well enough pleased at the diminution of the Duke’s power, yet they did
not care to have the King so near them upon their frontiers. As soon as
measures were concerted, as I said before, ambassadors were sent to the
King from Flanders and Brabant[110]; but all depended upon the Gantois,
by reason of their strength, and because the Duke’s children were in
their hands, and they were always the most forward in every commotion.
With them there came in behalf of the King of the Romans, certain young
noblemen much about his own age, and but indifferently qualified to make
terms of peace for their country; Monsieur John de Berghes[111] was
one, and Monsieur Baudouin de Lannoy[112] was the other, besides some
few secretaries. Our king was then very ill, and had no inclination to
be seen, and pretended great difficulty about swearing to the treaties
in the manner agreed on; but it was only because he was unwilling they
should see him. However, he swore to them at last, which was much to
his advantage; for whereas in all his former overtures for the match,
he demanded only the county of Artois or Burgundy, or whichever of the
two they pleased to assign him: now, the States of Ghent (as he called
them) were contented he should have both, and the counties of Maconnois,
Charolois, and Auxerrois, into the bargain; and if they could have
delivered Hainault, Namur, and all the subjects of that family who speak
the French language, they would willingly have done so, on purpose to
weaken their sovereign.
Our master was a cunning politician, and understood well enough that
Flanders was of little importance to him, unless he could have Artois
with it, which lies betwixt France and them, and is as it were a bridle
to the Flemings, affording good soldiers upon occasion, to correct their
wantonness and folly; and therefore in taking from the Earl of Flanders
the county of Artois, he would leave him the most inconsiderable prince
in Europe, without either subjects or authority, except by the permission
of the Gantois; whose commissioners, William Ryn and Coppenole, whom I
mentioned before (governors of Ghent), were at that time principal in
the embassy. Upon the return of the ambassadors, the Lady Margaret was
conducted to Hesdin, and delivered into the hands of the Lord des Cordes,
in the year 1483, and with her came Madame de Ravestain, Duke Philip
of Burgundy’s natural daughter, and they were received by the present
Monsieur and Madame de Bourbon[113], the Lord d’Albret[114], and others
from the king; and they brought her to Amboise, where the dauphin met
her.[115] If the Duke of Austria could have taken her from her convoy,
he would willingly have done it before she left his dominions; but the
Gantois had placed too strong a guard about her, for they had begun to
abate much of their obedience to him, and many considerable persons
joined with them, as having the custody of the young heir, and power of
placing and displacing whom they pleased. Among the nobility who were
resident in Ghent, there was the Lord of Ravestain, brother to the Duke
of Cleves, and chief governor to the young prince, whose name is Philip,
still living, and like to possess vast territories, if it please God to
spare his life.
But whoever was pleased with this match, the King of England was highly
affronted; for he thought himself disgraced and baffled, and in danger
of losing his pension or tribute, as the English called it. He feared
likewise it would render him contemptible at home, and occasion some
rebellion, more especially because he had rejected the remonstrances
of his council. Besides, he saw the King of France ready to invade his
dominions with a very great force; which made such a deep impression
upon his spirits, that he fell sick immediately upon hearing the news,
and died not long after, though some say he died of a catarrh. But let
them say what they please, the general opinion was, his grief at the
consummation of this marriage, caused the illness which killed him in
the month of April, 1483.[116] It is a great fault in a prince to be
obstinate, and rely more upon his own judgment than on the opinion of his
council; and sometimes it occasions such losses and disappointments as
are never to be repaired.
Our King was quickly informed of King Edward’s death; but he expressed no
manner of joy upon hearing the news. Not long after, he received letters
from the Duke of Gloucester, who had made himself king[117], styled
himself Richard III., and barbarously murdered his two nephews.[118]
This King Richard desired to live in the same friendship with our king
as his brother had done, and I believe would gladly have had his pension
continued; but our king looked upon him as an inhuman and cruel person,
and would neither answer his letters nor give audience to his ambassador;
for King Richard, after his brother’s death, had sworn allegiance to his
nephew, as his king and sovereign, and yet committed that inhuman action
not long after; and, in full Parliament, caused two of his brother’s
daughters to be degraded and declared illegitimate, upon a pretence which
he justified by means of the Bishop of Bath, who, having been formerly
in great favour with King Edward, had incurred his displeasure, was
dismissed, imprisoned, and fined a good sum for his releasement.[119]
This bishop affirmed, that King Edward being in love with a certain lady
whom he named, and otherwise unable to have his desires of her, had
promised her marriage; and caused the bishop to marry them, upon which
he enjoyed her person, though his promise was only made to delude her;
but such games are dangerous, as the effects frequently demonstrate. I
have known many a courtier who would not have lost such a fair lady for
want of promises.
This malicious prelate smothered this revenge in his heart near twenty
years together, but it recoiled upon himself, for he had a son, of
whom he was extremely fond, and to whom King Richard designed to give
a plentiful estate, and to have married him to one of the young ladies
whom he had declared illegitimate (who is now Queen of England, and
has two fine children).[120] This young gentleman being on board ship
by commission from King Richard, was taken upon the coast of Normandy,
and upon a dispute between those that took him, he was brought before
the Parliament at Paris, put into the Petit Chastellet, and suffered to
lie there till he was starved to death. This King Richard himself lived
not long, no more did the Duke of Buckingham[121], who had put the two
children to death, for King Richard himself, a very few days afterwards,
ordered his execution; and against King Richard God on a sudden raised
up an enemy[122], without power, without money, without right to the
crown of England[123], and without any reputation but what his person and
deportment obtained for him; for he had suffered much, and had been, from
the eighteenth year of his age, prisoner in Bretagne to Duke Francis,
who treated him as kindly as the necessity of his imprisonment would
permit. The King of France having supplied him with some money, with
about three thousand Normans, the loosest and most profligate persons
in all that country, he passed into Wales, where his father-in-law, the
Lord Stanley, joined him with twenty-five thousand men at the least; in
three or four days’ time he met cruel King Richard, who was slain on the
field of battle; and he was crowned King of England, and reigns at this
present time.[124] I have discoursed on this subject already, but it is
not improper to mention it again, if only to show that God in our times
has taken vengeance for such cruelties immediately, without delaying his
judgments. Several other princes besides have met with the same reward of
their villanies, in our days; but who could enumerate them?
CH. IX.—How the King behaved towards his Neighbours and Subjects during
his Sickness; and how several Things were sent him from several Parts,
for the Recovery of his Health.—1483.
After the consummation of this marriage, which our King had so earnestly
desired, the Flemings were perfectly at his command: Bretagne (which he
hated so bitterly) was at peace with him, but he kept them in great awe
and terror by the number of his forces, which he quartered upon their
frontiers. Spain was quiet, and her king and queen desired nothing more
than to live in peace and amity with him, for he kept them, likewise,
in perpetual fear and expense about the country of Roussillon, which he
held of the House of Arragon, and which had been given him by John King
of Arragon, father to the present King of Castile, as security for some
conditions[125] which have never yet been performed. The princes of Italy
all courted his friendship; and some of them had entered into alliance
with him, and sent ambassadors often to his court. In Germany the Swiss
were as obedient to him as his own subjects. The Kings of Scotland[126]
and Portugal[127] were his allies. Part of Navarre[128] was perfectly at
his disposal. His subjects trembled before him; whatever he commanded was
instantly executed, without the least difficulty or hesitation.
Whatever was thought conducible to his health[129], was sent to him
from all corners of the world. Pope Sixtus[130] (who died lately) being
informed of the King’s illness, and that he, in his devotion, desired
to have the corporal, or vest, which the Apostle St. Peter used when he
sung mass, sent it immediately, and several relics[131] besides, which
were returned to him. The holy vial at Rheims, which had never been moved
before, was brought to his chamber at Plessis, and stood upon his buffet
when he died, for he designed to be anointed with it again, as he was at
his coronation. Some were of opinion that he designed to have anointed
himself all over, but that was not likely, for the vial is but small, and
there is no great store of oil in it.[132] I saw it myself at the time
I speak of, and also when our Lord the King was interred in the church
of Notre Dame de Clery.[133] The Great Turk[134] that now reigns, sent
an ambassador[135] to him, who came as far as Riez, in Provence; but the
King would not hear him, nor permit him to proceed any farther, though he
brought him a large roll of relics which had been left at Constantinople
in the hands of the Turk; all which, and a considerable sum of money
besides, he offered to deliver into the king’s hands, if he would keep
guard over a brother[136] of the Turk’s, who was then in France, in
the custody of the Knights of Rhodes, and is now at Rome, in the hands
of the Pope. From all which one may be able to judge of the wisdom and
greatness of our King, and of the great esteem and character he bore in
the world, when spiritual things, dedicated to devotion and religion,
were employed for the lengthening of his life, as well as things temporal
and secular. But all endeavours to prolong his life proved ineffectual;
his time was come, and he must needs follow his predecessors. Yet in
one thing God Almighty favoured him in a peculiar manner, for, as he
had made him more prudent, liberal, and virtuous in all things than the
contemporary princes, who were his neighbours and enemies, so he suffered
him to survive them, though not for a very long time. For Charles Duke of
Burgundy, the Duchess of Austria his daughter, King Edward of England,
Duke Galeas of Milan, and John King of Arragon, were all dead a few years
before him; but King Edward and the Duchess of Austria died very shortly
before his decease. In all of them there was a mixture of bad as well
as good, for they were but mortals. But, without flattery, I may say of
our King, that he was possessed of more qualifications suitable to the
majesty and office of a prince than any of the rest, for I had seen most
of them, and knew the extent of their abilities.
CH. X.—How King Louis sent for his Son Charles a little before his Death;
and the Precepts and Commands which he laid upon him and others.
In the year 1482 the King desired to see the Dauphin his son, whom he had
not seen for several years; for besides his being of opinion that it was
better for his son’s health to have but few come near him, he was afraid
lest he should be taken out of his management, and made the occasion for
some conspiracy against him, as had been done by himself against his
father, King Charles VII., when, at eleven[137] years of age, he was
taken away by some lords of the kingdom, and engaged in a war called the
Praguerie[138], which lasted not long, and was merely a court faction.
Above all things, he recommended to the Dauphin certain of his servants,
and laid his commands expressly upon him not to change any of his
officers, declaring that upon the death of his father Charles VII., and
his own accession to the throne, he had imprudently dismissed all the
good officers of the kingdom, both military and civil, who had assisted
his father in the conquest of Normandy and Guyenne, served him in the
expulsion of the English, and contributed much to the restoration of
peace and tranquillity throughout the kingdom; which rash method of
proceeding proved highly to his prejudice, for it was the foundation of
the war called the Public Good, which I mentioned before[139], and which
had like to have cost him his crown. Soon after the King had given this
advice to his son, and concluded the marriage[140] above mentioned, upon
a Monday[141] the illness seized him of which he died, and it lasted
until the Saturday following, the last day but one of August, 1483; I was
present at the termination of his illness, and therefore I think myself
entitled to say something of his death.
Not long after his being seized with this last fit, he was deprived of
his speech, as he had been formerly; and though he recovered that again,
yet he found himself much weaker than he had ever been (though indeed
he was so weak before that he had scarce strength to lift his hand to
his mouth), and he became so meagre and lean, that every one who saw
him pitied him. The King, perceiving he had not long to live, sent for
the Lord de Beaujeu (who had married his daughter, and is now Duke of
Bourbon), and commanded him to go to Amboise, to his son the king, as he
called him. He recommended his son to him, and all his servants, and gave
him the charge and government of the young king, and made him promise,
for several good reasons, not to permit certain persons to come near him;
and, if the Lord de Beaujeu had observed his commands strictly, or at
least the best part of them, (for some were contradictory and not to be
observed,) I am of opinion, considering what has since happened, it had
been much better both for the kingdom and himself.
After this he sent the chancellor[142], with all that were under him, to
carry the seals to the king his son. He also sent him some archers of his
guard, several of his captains, the officers of his hounds and hawks, and
all others in charge of his sports; and he desired all that were going
to Amboise to pay their respects to the king his son, to be faithful and
true to him; and by every one he sent him some message or other, but
more especially by Stephen de Vers[143], who had brought up the young
king, serving him in quality of first gentleman of his bed-chamber, and
had been made Bailiff of Meaux by King Louis. After the recovery of his
speech, his senses never failed him, and indeed were never so quick,
for he had a continual looseness upon him, which kept the vapours from
ascending to his head. In all his sickness he never complained, as most
other people do when they are ill; at least I am of that nature, and
I have known many of the same temper; and the common opinion is that
complaining alleviates our pain.
CH. XI.—A Comparison of the Troubles and Sorrows which King Louis
suffered, with those he had brought upon other People; with a
Continuation of his Transactions till the Time of his Death.—1483.
He was continually discoursing on some subject or another, and always
with a great deal of sense and judgment. His last illness (as I said
before) continued from Monday to Saturday night. Upon which account I
will now make comparison between the evils and sorrows which he brought
upon others, and those which he suffered in his own person: for I hope
his torments here on earth, have translated him into Paradise, and will
be a great part of his purgatory: and if, in respect of their greatness
and duration, his sufferings were inferior to those he had brought upon
other people, yet, if you consider the grandeur and dignity of his
office, and that he had never before suffered anything in his own person,
but had been obeyed by all people, as if all Europe had been created for
no other end, but to serve and be commanded by him; you will find that
little which he endured was so contrary to his nature and custom that it
was more grievous for him to bear.
His chief hope and confidence was placed in the good hermit I spoke
of (who was at Plessis, and had come thither from Calabria); he sent
continually to him, believing it was in his power to prolong his life if
he pleased; for, notwithstanding all his precepts, he had great hopes of
recovering; and if it had so happened, he would quickly have dispersed
the throng he had sent to Amboise, to wait upon the new king. Finding
his hopes rested so strongly upon this hermit, it was the advice of a
certain grave divine[144], and others who were about him, that it should
be declared to him that there was no hope left for him but in the mercy
of God; and it was also agreed among them, that his physician, Master
James Coctier (in whom he had great confidence), should be present when
this declaration was made him. This Coctier received of him every month
ten thousand crowns, in the hope that he would lengthen his life. This
resolution was taken to the end that he should lay aside all other
thoughts, and apply himself wholly to the settlement of his conscience.
And as he had advanced them, as it were, in an instant, and against all
reason, to employments beyond their capacities, so they took upon them
fearlessly to tell him a thing that had been more proper for other people
to communicate; nor did they observe that reverence and respect towards
him, which was proper in such a case, and would have been used by those
persons who had been brought up with him, or by those whom, in a mere
whim, he had removed from court but a little before. But, as he had
sent a sharp message of death to two great persons whom he had formerly
beheaded (the Duke of Nemours[145], and the Count of St. Paul[146]), by
commissioners deputed on purpose, who in plain terms told them their
sentence, appointed them confessors to arrange their consciences, and
acquainted them that in a few hours they must resolve to die; so with the
same bluntness, and without the least circumstance of introduction, these
imprudent persons told our King: “Sire, we must do our duty; do not place
your hopes any longer in this holy hermit, or anything else, for you are
a dead man. Think therefore upon your conscience, for there is no remedy
left.” Every one added some short saying to the same purpose; to which he
answered, “I hope God will assist me, for perhaps I am not so ill as you
imagine.”
What sorrow was this to him to hear this news! Never man was more fearful
of death, nor used more means to prevent it. He had, all his life long,
commanded and requested his servants, and me among the rest, that
whenever we saw him in any danger of death, we should not tell him of
it, but merely admonish him to confess himself, without ever mentioning
that cruel and shocking word Death; for he did not believe he could ever
endure to hear so cruel a sentence. However, he endured that virtuously,
and several more things equally terrible, when he was ill; and indeed he
bore them better than any man I ever saw die. He spoke several things,
which were to be delivered to his son, whom he called king; and he
confessed himself very devoutly, said several prayers suitable to the
sacraments he received, and called for the sacraments himself. He spoke
as judiciously as if he had never been ill, discoursed of all things
which might be necessary for his son’s instruction, and among the rest
gave orders that the Lord des Cordes should not stir from his son for six
months; and that he should be desired to attempt nothing against Calais,
or elsewhere, declaring, that though he had designed himself to undertake
such enterprises for the benefit of both the king and the kingdom, yet
they were very dangerous, especially that against Calais, because the
English might resent it; and he left it in especial charge, that for five
or six years after his death, they should, above all things, preserve the
kingdom in peace, which during his life he had never suffered. And indeed
it was no more than was necessary; for, though the kingdom was large and
fertile, yet it was grown very poor, upon account of the marching and
counter-marching of the soldiers up and down, in their passage from one
country to another, as they have done since, to an even worse extent.
He also ordered that nothing should be attempted against Bretagne, but
that Duke Francis should be suffered to live in peace; that both he and
his neighbours might be without fear, and the king and kingdom remain
free from wars, till the king should be of age, to take upon himself the
administration of affairs.
You have already heard with what indiscretion and bluntness they
acquainted the king with his approaching death; which I have mentioned
in a more particular manner, because in a preceding paragraph I began to
compare the evils, which he had made others suffer, who lived under his
dominion, with those he endured himself before his death; that it might
appear that, though they were not perhaps of so long a duration, yet they
were fully as great and terrible, considering his station and dignity,
which required more obedience than any private person, and had found
more; so that the least opposition was a great torment to him. Some five
or six months before his death, he began to suspect everybody, especially
those who were most capable and deserving of the administration of
affairs. He was afraid of his son, and caused him to be kept close, so
that no man saw or discoursed with him, but by his special command. At
last he grew suspicious of his daughter, and of his son-in-law the Duke
of Bourbon, and required an account of what persons came to speak with
them at Plessis, and broke up a council which the Duke of Bourbon was
holding there, by his order.
At the time that the Count of Dunois[147] and the said Duke of Bourbon
returned from conducting the ambassadors, who had been at Amboise to
attend the marriage of the Dauphin and the young queen, the King being
in the gallery at Plessis, and seeing them enter with a great train into
the castle, called for a captain of the guards, and commanded him to
go and search the servants of those lords, to see whether they had any
arms under their robes; and ordered him to do it in discourse, so as no
notice might be taken. Behold, then, if he had caused many to live under
him in continual fear and apprehension, whether it was not returned to
him again; for of whom could he be secure when he was afraid of his
son-in-law, his daughter, and his own son? I speak this not only of him,
but of all other princes who desire to be feared, that vengeance never
falls on them till they grow old, and then, as a just penance, they are
afraid of everybody themselves; and what grief must it have been to this
poor King to be tormented with such terrors and passions?
He was still attended by his physician, Master James Coctier, to whom in
five months’ time he had given fifty-four thousand crowns in ready money,
besides the bishopric of Amiens for his nephew[148], and other great
offices and estates for himself and his friends; yet this doctor used him
very roughly indeed; one would not have given such outrageous language
to one’s servants, as he gave the King, who stood in such awe of him,
that he durst not forbid him his presence. It is true he complained of
his impudence afterwards, but he durst not change him as he had done all
the rest of his servants; because he had told him after a most audacious
manner one day, “I know well that some time or other you will dismiss me
from court, as you have done the rest; but be sure (and he confirmed
it with a great oath) you shall not live eight days after it[149];”
with which expression the king was so terrified, that ever after he did
nothing but flatter and bribe him, which must needs have been a great
mortification to a prince who had been humbly obeyed all his life by so
many good and brave men.
The King had ordered several cruel prisons to be made; some were cages
of iron, and some of wood, but all were covered with iron plates both
within and without, with terrible locks, about eight feet wide and seven
high; the first contriver of them was the Bishop of Verdun[150], who was
immediately put in the first of them that was made, where he continued
fourteen years. Many bitter curses he has had since for his invention,
and some from me as I lay in one of them eight months together in the
minority of our present King. He also ordered heavy and terrible fetters
to be made in Germany, and particularly a certain ring for the feet,
which was extremely hard to be opened, and fitted like an iron collar,
with a thick weighty chain, and a great globe of iron at the end of it,
most unreasonably heavy, which engines were called the King’s Nets.
However, I have seen many eminent and deserving persons in these prisons,
with these nets about their legs, who afterwards came forth with great
joy and honour, and received great rewards from the King. Among the
rest, a son[151] of the Lord de la Grutuse, in Flanders (who was taken
in battle), whom the king married very honourably afterwards, made him
his chamberlain, and seneschal of Anjou, and gave him the command of a
hundred lances. The Lord de Piennes[152], and the Lord de Vergy[153],
both prisoners of war, also had commands given them in his army, were
made his or his son’s chamberlains, and had great estates bestowed on
them. Monsieur de Richebourg[154], the constable’s brother, had the same
good fortune, as did also one Roquebertin[155], a Catalonian, likewise
prisoner of war; besides others of various countries, too numerous to be
mentioned in this place.
This by way of digression. But to return to my principal design. As in
his time this barbarous variety of prisons was invented, so before he
died he himself was in greater torment, and more terrible apprehension
than those whom he had imprisoned; which I look upon as a great mercy
towards him, and as part of his purgatory; and I have mentioned it here
to show that there is no person, of what station or dignity soever, but
suffers some time or other, either publicly or privately, especially if
he has caused other people to suffer. The king, towards the latter end of
his days, caused his castle of Plessis-les-Tours to be encompassed with
great bars of iron in the form of thick grating, and at the four corners
of the house four sparrow-nests of iron, strong, massy, and thick, were
built. The grates were without the wall on the other side of the ditch,
and sank to the bottom. Several spikes of iron were fastened into the
wall, set as thick by one another as was possible, and each furnished
with three or four points. He likewise placed ten bow-men in the ditches,
to shoot at any man that durst approach the castle before the opening
of the gates; and he ordered they should lie in the ditches, but retire
to the sparrow-nests upon occasion. He was sensible enough that this
fortification was too weak to keep out an army, or any great body of
men, but he had no fear of such an attack; his great apprehension was,
that some of the nobility of his kingdom, having intelligence within,
might attempt to make themselves masters of the castle by night, and
having possessed themselves partly of it by favour, and partly by force,
might deprive him of the regal authority, and take upon themselves the
administration of public affairs; upon pretence he was incapable of
business, and no longer fit to govern.
The gate of the Plessis was never opened, nor the drawbridge let down,
before eight o’clock in the morning, at which time the officers were let
in; and the captains ordered their guards to their several posts, with
pickets of archers in the middle of the court, as in a town upon the
frontiers that is closely guarded: nor was any person admitted to enter
except by the wicket and with the king’s knowledge, unless it were the
steward of his household, and such persons as were not admitted into the
royal presence.[156]
Is it possible then to keep a prince (with any regard to his quality)
in a closer prison than he kept himself? The cages which were made for
other people were about eight feet square; and he (though so great a
monarch) had but a small court of the castle to walk in, and seldom made
use of that, but generally kept himself in the gallery, out of which he
went into the chambers on his way to mass, but never passed through the
court. Who can deny that he was a sufferer as well as his neighbours,
considering how he was locked up and guarded, afraid of his own children
and relations, and changing every day those very servants whom he had
brought up and advanced; and though they owed all their preferment to
him, yet he durst not trust any of them, but shut himself up in those
strange chains and enclosures. If the place where he confined himself
was larger than a common prison, he also was much greater than common
prisoners.
It may be urged that other princes have been more given to suspicion
than he, but it was not in our time; and, perhaps, their wisdom was not
so eminent, nor were their subjects so good. They might too, probably,
have been tyrants, and bloody-minded; but our king never did any person
a mischief who had not offended him first, though I do not say all who
offended him deserved death. I have not recorded these things merely
to represent our master as a suspicious and mistrustful prince; but to
show, that by the patience which he expressed in his sufferings (like
those which he inflicted on other people), they may be looked upon, in
my judgment, as a punishment which our Lord inflicted upon him in this
world, in order to deal more mercifully with him in the next, as well
in regard to those things before-mentioned, as to the distempers of
his body, which were great and painful, and much dreaded by him before
they came upon him; and, likewise, that those princes who may be his
successors, may learn by his example to be more tender and indulgent to
their subjects, and less severe in their punishments than our master had
been: although I will not censure him, or say I ever saw a better prince;
for though he oppressed his subjects himself, he would never see them
injured by anybody else.
After so many fears, sorrows, and suspicions, God, by a kind of miracle,
restored him both in body and mind, as is His divine method in such
kind of wonders; for He took him out of this miserable world in perfect
health of mind, and understanding, and memory; after having received the
sacraments himself, discoursing without the least twinge or expression
of pain, and repeating his paternosters to the very last moment of his
life. He gave directions[157] for his own burial, appointed who should
attend his corpse to the grave, and declared that he desired to die on
a Saturday of all days in the week; and that he hoped Our Lady would
procure him that favour, for in her he had always placed great trust, and
served her very devoutly. And so it happened; for he died on Saturday,
the 30th of August, 1483, at about eight in the evening, in the Castle of
Plessis, where his illness seized him on the Monday before. May Our Lord
receive his soul, and admit it unto His kingdom of Paradise!
CH. XII.—A Digression concerning the Miseries of Mankind, especially of
Princes, by the Example of those who reigned in the Author’s Time, and
chiefly of King Louis.
Small hopes and comfort ought poor and inferior people to have in this
world, considering what so great a king suffered and underwent, and how
he was at last forced to leave all, and could not, with all his care
and diligence, protract his life one single hour. I knew him, and was
entertained in his service in the flower of his age, and at the height
of his prosperity, yet I never saw him free from labour and care. Of all
diversions he loved hunting and hawking in their seasons; but his chief
delight was in dogs. As for ladies, he never meddled with any in my time;
for about the time of my coming to his court he lost a son[158], at whose
death he was extremely afflicted, and he made a vow to God in my presence
never to have intercourse with any other woman but the queen; and though
this was no more than what he was bound to do by the canons of the
church, yet it was much that his self-command should be so great, that
he should be able to persevere in his resolution so firmly, considering
that the queen (though an excellent princess in other respects) was not a
person in whom a man could take any great delight.
In hunting, his eagerness and pain were equal to his pleasure, for his
chase was the stag, which he always ran down. He rose very early in the
morning, rode sometimes a great distance, and would not leave his sport,
let the weather be never so bad; and when he came home at night he was
often very weary, and generally in a violent passion with some of his
courtiers or huntsmen; for hunting is a sport not always to be managed
according to the master’s direction; yet, in the opinion of most people,
he understood it as well as any prince of his time. He was continually at
these sports, lodging in the country villages to which his recreations
led him, till he was interrupted by business; for during the most part
of the summer there was constantly war between him and Charles Duke of
Burgundy, and in the winter they made truces.
He was also involved in some trouble about the county of Roussillon, with
John, King of Arragon, father of Peter of Castile, who at present is King
of Spain; for though both of them were poor, and already at variance
with their subjects in Barcelona and elsewhere, and though the son had
nothing but the expectation of succeeding to the throne of Don Henry of
Castile, his wife’s brother (which fell to him afterwards), yet they made
considerable resistance; for that province being entirely devoted to
their interest, and they being universally beloved by the people, they
gave our king abundance of trouble, and the war lasted till his death,
and many brave men lost their lives in it, and his treasury was exhausted
by it; so that he had but a little time during the whole year to spend
in pleasure, and even then the fatigues he underwent were excessive.
When his body was at rest his mind was at work, for he had affairs in
several places at once, and would concern himself as much in those of his
neighbours as in his own, putting officers of his own over all the great
families, and endeavouring to divide their authority as much as possible.
When he was at war he laboured for a peace or a truce, and when he had
obtained it, he was impatient for war again. He troubled himself with
many trifles in his government, which he had better have let alone: but
it was his temper, and he could not help it; besides, he had a prodigious
memory, and he forgot nothing, but knew everybody, as well in other
countries as in his own.
And, in truth, he seemed better fitted to rule a world than to govern
a single kingdom. I speak not of his minority, for then I was not with
him; but when he was eleven years old, he was, by the advice of some
of the nobility, and others of his kingdom, embroiled in a war with
his father, Charles VII., which lasted not long, and was called the
Praguerie. When he was arrived at man’s estate, he was married, much
against his inclination, to the King of Scotland’s daughter[159];
and he regretted her existence during the whole course of her life.
Afterwards, by reason of the broils and factions in his father’s court,
he retired into Dauphiny[160] (which was his own), whither many persons
of quality followed him, and indeed more than he could entertain. During
his residence in Dauphiny he married the Duke of Savoy’s daughter[161],
and not long after he had great disputes with his father-in-law, and
a terrible war was begun between them. His father, King Charles VII.,
seeing his son attended by so many good officers, and raising men at his
pleasure, resolved to go in person against him, with a considerable body
of forces, in order to disperse them. While he was upon his march he
put out proclamations, requiring them all, as his subjects, under great
penalties, to repair to him; and many obeyed, to the great displeasure
of the Dauphin, who, finding his father incensed, though he was strong
enough to resist, resolved to retire, and leave that country to him; and
accordingly he removed, with but a slender retinue, into Burgundy, to
Duke Philip’s court, who received him honourably, furnished him nobly,
and maintained him[162] and his principal servants (as the Count de
Comminges[163], the Lord de Montauban[164], and others), by way of
pensions, and to the rest he gave presents, as he saw occasion, during
the whole time of their residence there. However, the Dauphin entertained
so many at his own expense, that his money often failed, to his great
disgust and mortification; for he was forced to borrow[165], or his
people would have forsaken him, which is certainly a great affliction to
a prince who was utterly unaccustomed to those straits. So that during
his residence at the court of Burgundy he had his anxieties, for he
was constrained to cajole the duke and his ministers, lest they should
think he was too burdensome, and had laid too long upon their hands,
for he had been with them six[166] years, and his father, King Charles,
was constantly pressing and soliciting the Duke of Burgundy, by his
ambassadors, either to deliver him up to him, or to banish him out of
his dominions.[167] And this, you may believe, gave the Dauphin some
uneasy thoughts, and would not suffer him to be idle. In which season
of his life, then, was it that he may be said to have enjoyed himself?
I believe from his infancy and innocence to his death, his whole life
was nothing but one continued scene of troubles and fatigues[168];
and I am of opinion, that if all the days of his life were computed
in which his joys and pleasures outweighed his pain and trouble, they
would be found so few, that there would be twenty mournful ones to one
pleasant. He lived about sixty-one years, yet he always fancied he should
never outlive sixty, giving this for a reason, that for a long time no
king of France had lived beyond that age. Some say, since the time of
Charlemagne; but the king our master was far advanced in his sixty-first
year.[169]
What ease or what pleasure did Charles, Duke of Burgundy, enjoy more than
our master King Louis? In his youth, indeed, he had less trouble, for he
did not begin to enter upon any action till nearly the two-and-thirtieth
year of his age; so that before that time he lived in great ease and
quiet. His first quarrel was with his father’s chief officers; and as his
father took their part, he immediately withdrew from court, and retired
into Holland[170], where being well received, he fell immediately into
intelligence with the Gantois, and went and visited his father sometimes.
He had no allowance from his father; but Holland, being a rich country,
made him great presents, as did several other great towns, hoping thereby
to insinuate themselves into his favour, and reap the advantage after
Duke Philip’s death. And it is the common custom of the world to worship
the rising sun, and court him whose future authority will be great,
rather than him who is already at the height of his fortune, and can
never be higher. For this reason, when Duke Philip was informed that the
Gantois had expressed great kindness for his son, and that he understood
how to manage them, he answered, “They always love him who is to be their
sovereign; but as soon as he is their lord they will hate him.” And his
saying was true, for from the time of Duke Philip’s death and Charles’s
accession, their love began to decline, and they showed it openly, and
he, on the other side, cared as little for them; yet they did more
mischief to his posterity than they could possibly do to him.
But to continue these Memoirs. From the time Duke Charles undertook his
war to recover the towns in Picardy, (which our master had redeemed
from Duke Philip), and joined himself with the lords of the kingdom in
the war called the Public Good, what pleasure, what tranquillity had
he? He had continual trouble and labour, without the least cessation or
refreshment, either to his body or mind; for glory got entire possession
of his heart, and constantly spurred him on to attempt new conquests.
He was always in the field during summer, exposing his person to the
greatest danger, taking the care and command of the whole army upon
himself; and yet he thought his work too little. He was the first that
rose, and the last that went to bed in the camp; and he slept in his
clothes, like the poorest foot-soldier in the army. In winter, when the
campaign was over, he was busily employed about raising money; six hours
every morning he set apart for conferences, and for giving audience to
ambassadors; and in this perpetual hurry of affairs he ended his days,
and was killed by the Swiss in the battle of Nancy, as you have already
heard; so that it cannot be said that he enjoyed one happy day from the
time of his beginning to aggrandise himself to the hour of his death; and
then what were the fruits of all his pains and labour? Or what necessity
was there of his doing so? since he was a rich prince, and had towns and
territories large enough already to have made him happy, if he could have
been contented with them.
The next prince whom we shall have occasion to mention is Edward IV.,
King of England, a great and powerful monarch. In his minority he saw
his father the Duke of York[171] defeated and slain in battle, and with
him the father[172] of the Earl of Warwick, who governed the king in his
youth, and managed all his affairs; and, to say the truth, it was the
Earl of Warwick who made Edward king, and dethroned his old master, King
Henry VI., who had reigned many years in England, and (in my judgment,
and the judgment of the world,) was the lawful king; but, in such cases,
the disposal of kingdoms and great states is in the hands of God, who
orders them as He pleases, for indeed all things proceed from Him. The
reason of the Earl of Warwick’s espousing the interest of the House of
York against King Henry, who was of the Lancastrian family, was upon a
difference that happened at court betwixt the Duke of Somerset and the
Earl of Warwick. The king not having wisdom enough to compose it, it
grew to that height that the queen[173] (who was of the house of Anjou,
and daughter to René, King of Sicily) interposed in it, and inclined to
the duke’s party against the Earl of Warwick; for all had acknowledged
Henry, his father, and his grandfather, for their lawful kings. The queen
would have acted much more prudently in endeavouring to have adjusted
the dispute between them than in saying, “I am of this party, and will
maintain it;” and it proved so by the event, for it occasioned many
battles in England, and a war which continued nine-and-twenty years[174];
and in the end nearly all the partisans of both sides were destroyed;
so that factions and parties are very perilous and fatal, especially to
the nobility, who are too prone to propagate and foment them. If it be
alleged that by this means both parties are kept in awe, and the secret
minds of his subjects are discovered to the prince, I agree that a young
prince may encourage faction among his ladies, and it may be pleasant and
diverting enough, and may give him opportunity of finding out some of
their intrigues; but nothing is so dangerous to a nation as to nourish
such factions and partialities among men of courage and magnanimity; it
is no less than setting one’s own house on fire; for immediately some or
other cry out, “The king is against us,” seize upon some fortified town,
and correspond with his enemies. And certainly the factions of Orleans
and Burgundy ought to make us wise on this point; for they began a war
which lasted seventy-two years[175], in which the English were concerned,
and thought by those unhappy divisions to have conquered the kingdom.
But to return from this digression. King Edward was a very young prince,
and one of the handsomest men of his age, at the time he had overcome all
his difficulties; so he gave himself up wholly to pleasures, and took no
delight in anything but ladies, dancing, entertainments, and the chase;
and in this voluptuous course of life, if I mistake not, he spent about
sixteen years, till the quarrel happened between him and the Earl of
Warwick. In which contest, though the king was driven out of the kingdom,
yet his misfortune lasted not long; for he quickly returned, obtained a
victory, and afterwards fell again to his pleasures, and indulged himself
in them more recklessly than before. From this time he feared nobody;
but he grew very fat, and his excess inclining him to diseases, in the
very flower of his age, he died suddenly (as it was reported) of an
apoplexy[176], and his family perished after him (as you have heard), as
regarded the succession in the male line.
In our time also, there reigned two wise and valiant princes, Matthias,
King of Hungary[177], and Mahomet Ottoman, Emperor of the Turks.[178]
This King Matthias was the son of a very valiant gentleman, called the
White Knight of Wallachia[179], a person of great honour and prudence,
who for a long time had governed the kingdom of Hungary, and had gained
several battles over the Turks, who are neighbours to that country, by
reason of the territories which they have usurped in Sclavonia, Bosnia,
and Greece. Not long after his death, Lancelot[180] came to man’s estate,
who was heir to that kingdom, and to the kingdoms of Bohemia and Poland
besides. This Lancelot was advised by some persons (as was reported) to
seize upon the two sons of the White Knight, on the pretence that, as
their father had obtained and exercised so much power and authority in
that kingdom during his infancy, it was not improbable that his sons
might do the same. Upon which the said Lancelot resolved to have them
both apprehended, which was accordingly done. He put the eldest[181] to
death, and sent the other, which was Matthias, a prisoner to Buda, the
chief town in Hungary; but he did not remain long in confinement (God
Almighty being perhaps pleased with the services of his father), for,
awhile after, King Lancelot was poisoned at Prague, in Bohemia, by a lady
of quality (whose brother I have seen), with whom he had been in love,
and she with him; but being incensed at his intended marriage in France,
with the daughter[182] of King Charles VII. (called now the Princess
of Vienne), which was contrary to his engagement to her, she poisoned
him in a bath, by giving him an apple to eat, and conveying poison into
the haft of his knife. Upon the death of Lancelot, the barons of Hungary
assembled at Buda for the election of a king, according to an ancient
privilege which they have, to elect their king when his predecessor has
died without issue. Whilst they were mightily divided, and in great
controversy about the election, the widow of the White Knight, and mother
of Matthias, entered the town with a very splendid equipage; for she was
very rich, especially in ready money, which her husband had left her,
by means of which she was able to raise men immediately; and, besides,
it is not improbable that she had partisans in the town, and among the
electors, upon account of the influence and authority her husband had had
in that kingdom. As soon as she came into the city, she marched directly
to the prison, and released her son; upon which some of the barons and
prelates who were assembled fled in terror out of the town, and those
that remained chose Matthias for their king; and he reigned among them
in great prosperity, with as much applause and esteem as any of his
predecessors, and in some things with even more. He was a man of as much
courage as any of that age, and obtained many signal victories over the
Turks, without any loss to his kingdom, which he much enlarged, as well
towards Turkey as towards Bohemia (most of which was in his possession),
and also in Wallachia (where he was born) and Sclavonia; and on the side
towards Germany he took the greatest part of Austria from the Emperor
Frederic, and kept it till his death, which happened in Vienna, the
chief city of Austria, in the year 1491. He was a prince who managed his
affairs discreetly, both in peace and in war. Towards the latter end of
his days, finding he was become formidable, he began to affect a pompous
and splendid way of living, and provided great store of rich hangings,
jewels, and plate, for the adornment of his palace. All his business was
dispatched by himself, or by his direction: he had also an inclination
to make himself terrible to his own subjects, and became a very tyrant
towards his latter end; after which he fell into a grievous and incurable
distemper, as it were in his youth (for he was but eight-and-twenty[183]
years of age), and died: his life having been one continued scene of
labour and sorrow, without any great pleasure or ease.
The Turk, whom I mentioned before, was a wise and valiant prince, but
he made more use of his cunning than of his courage. His father[184]
also was a valiant prince, who took Adrianople (that is to say, the
city of Adrian), and left his son very great; and this son, at the age
of twenty-three, took Constantinople[185], or the city of Constantine;
I have seen his portrait painted at that age, which represented him
vigorous and sprightly. It was a great disgrace to all Christendom to
suffer that city to be lost; he took it by assault, and the Emperor of
the East[186] (whom we called Emperor of Constantinople) was slain in the
breach. Many brave men were killed with him in this assault, many great
ladies ravished, and no manner of cruelty was omitted. This was his first
exploit, but he continued to perform great actions, and so many, that I
heard a Venetian ambassador say once in the presence of Charles, Duke of
Burgundy, that this Mahomet had conquered two empires, four kingdoms,
and two hundred cities; he meant, indeed, the empires of Constantinople
and Trebizond[187]; the kingdoms of Bosnia, Syria, Armenia, and I
think Morea was the fourth. He conquered likewise many fair islands
in the Archipelago (where the Venetians have two[188] settlements),
among others, Negropont and Mitylene; besides which he subdued nearly
all Albania and Sclavonia: and as his conquests were great over the
Christians, so were they no less considerable over those of his own
religion, among whom he destroyed several great princes, as the Prince of
Caramania[189], and others.
The greatest part of his affairs were transacted by himself, according
to the practice of our king and of the king of Hungary; and these three
were without all dispute the wisest princes that had reigned for a
hundred years. But the generosity of our master’s conversation, and
his liberality to his servants, as well as to foreigners and others,
distinguished him very much from the other two; and it is no wonder,
for he was styled the most Christian King. As to worldly pleasures and
enjoyments, this Turk had his share, and spent most of his time in them;
and, indeed, he would have done more mischief to Christendom, had he not
been so employed. He indulged himself in all kinds of sensuality, and was
strangely given to gluttony, which brought him numberless diseases, which
continued upon him as long as he lived. Every spring he had a swelling in
his legs, that made them as big as a man’s waist (as I have heard from
those who have seen it); and the swelling never broke, but dispersed
of its own accord, and no surgeon could tell what to make of it, but
all agreed his gluttony was the occasion of it, though perhaps it was a
judgment from heaven; and one reason why he suffered himself to be seen
so seldom, and kept himself shut up in his seraglio, was, lest he should
discover that infirmity, and grow contemptible to his subjects. He died
about the fifty-second year of his age, and suddenly; yet he made a will,
and I have seen it, and, if it be true, he seemed to have some remorse
for a tax which he had lately laid upon his subjects. Let Christian
princes therefore consider what they do, since they have no reasonable
power to raise money, without the permission and consent of their people.
Thus have you seen the death of many illustrious persons in a short
time, who had borne so much sorrow, and endured so many fatigues, only
to extend their dominions, and advance their fame and glory, as perhaps
tended not only to the shortening of their lives, but to the endangering
the welfare of their immortal souls. I am not speaking here of the Turk,
for I question not but that he is gone to his predecessors, but of our
king and the rest, on whom I hope God will have mercy. But to speak
freely (as one that is no great scholar or genius, but has had some
experience in the world), would it not have been better for them, and for
all other great princes and subjects whatever, to choose a middle course
in all their desires; that is, not to be so solicitous and careful about
temporal things, and have such vast and unreasonable designs in view;
but to be more cautious of offending God, oppressing their subjects, and
invading their neighbours, by so many cruel and unchristian ways, as I
have mentioned before, and rather employ their time in tranquillity and
innocent diversions? Their lives would be longer, their infirmities the
later in coming, their deaths less desirable to other people, and less
terrible to themselves. Can we desire any clearer examples to prove how
poor and inconsiderable a creature man is, how short and miserable his
life, and how little difference there is betwixt princes and private
persons, since as soon as they are dead, whether rich or poor, their
bodies become abominable, all people fly and shun them, and their souls
are no sooner separated but they prepare to receive their doom, which
is given by God at that very instant of time, according to every man’s
works, and bodily deserts.