while Bonaparte had already betrayed qualities which excited the
distrust of the Directory just as Cromwell had excited the distrust and
more of the Rump and of the Barebones parliament. The army of the Rhine
was added to the army of the Sambre and Meuse; and the joint command
given to Hoche, placed him in effect at the head of the military force
of the nation. He was soon called to Paris to overawe the same uneasy
spirits who had tried to overturn the Convention, and it is noteworthy
that it was Hoche and not Bonaparte who was thus summoned, although it
was the latter who had demonstrated as we have seen, the true method of
arguing with those philanthropists.
The approach of Hoche to the Capital exposed him to a curious
accusation which illustrates the taste of the revolutionists for
mimicking the ancient Romans. The Directory had decreed a line of
circumference around Paris within which no armed force must pass
without special permission. Hoche had mistaken the boundary of this new
Rubicon and had crossed it at the head of his men. He was arraigned
before the Directory, but his explanation was accepted and he was more
popular than ever.
This preference for Hoche over Bonaparte gave rise to jealousy which
had no time to develop into action. Hoche returned to his camp at
Wetzlar only to die. He who had faced death in so many pitched battles,
was reserved to yield up his soul in peace, his wife and child kneeling
at his bed-side. He was twenty-nine years old.
His death was so sudden that there was talk of poison, to which the
autopsy it seems lent some color. Alexander Dumas makes no doubt that
he was poisoned, and that it was done at the instigation of Bonaparte.
But Dumas is not to be trusted. He had inherited the prejudices of his
father a general of division who had served under Bonaparte and had had
a bitter quarrel with him. Hoche had gone back to Wetzlar with a cough,
and he probably died of pneumonia.
Had he lived would he too have bent the knee around the imperial
throne? Probably not. Would he like Moreau have lent his sword to the
enemies of France? That is still less probable. The French are apt to
say that if Hoche had survived there would have been no empire, no
emperor; but might there not have been something worse: France divided
into two hostile camps under two great captains?
The renown of Hoche pales necessarily in the presence of that of his
great rival, just as the renown of Hampden pales in presence of that of
Cromwell; but as men and as patriots Hampden and Hoche were purer and
nobler than their rivals. The former were ambitious for their country,
the latter for themselves.
It is a satisfaction to add in conclusion, that in those impious years
of the revolution, when Christian worship was neglected and at times
proscribed, and a mummery in honor or dishonor of Reason and Human
Nature substituted, Hoche did not share in the prevailing misbelief. He
writes to a friend that he had been piously taught in his childhood,
and that he still believes and reveres the religion of Jesus Christ.
* * * * *
One of the large war-steamers recently built by the French, is named
the HOCHE.
An Interesting Ancestor of Queen Victoria
In the fourteenth century the Spanish peninsula was divided into five
kingdoms: four Christian and one Mahometan or Mohametan or Mohamedan.
The reader will take his choice. Wars were constant between the two
faiths. This was a blessing, at least for the Christians, for if they
had not been kept always shoulder to shoulder against the Moor, they
would have been less usefully busy cutting each other’s throats.
Nobody in the middle ages abstained from the vice of fighting. Bishops
in panoply led their flocks to battle, and even a century later than
the epoch of my story, one pope Julius II., whenever spiritual weapons
failed him, which was often, seized the carnal, and showed himself one
of the stoutest combatants in Europe.
On the throne of Castile sat Alphonzo XI. an able monarch. He was at
the head of the Christian confederacy and commanded at the battle of
the Rio Salado where the Moors suffered a great defeat. Alphonzo had
married Dona Maria of Portugal a woman of harsh and gloomy temper
whom he did not love. His affections were wholly bestowed upon Leonora
de Gusman a lady of beauty and intelligence, belonging to the higher
nobility. His queen nevertheless brought him one son, Don Pedro who is
known in history as Pedro-the-cruel or Peter-the-cruel. It is he who is
the chief subject of this paper.
By Leonora, Alphonzo had several children of whom the eldest or rather
the first born, for he had a twin brother, was Don Enrique or Henry.
Henry was his father’s favorite. He conferred upon him the estates
of Trastamara with the title of count, and he is known as Henry of
Trastamara. These two princes Don Pedro and Don Henry both grew up
brave, energetic and capable.
It is easy to believe that the queen Dona Maria hated with all the
bitterness of her sombre nature her more brilliant and beautiful rival
Leonora; but so long as Alphonzo lived, there was peace in the family,
because, different from some cases we hear of, it was he who was master
of the house. But king Alphonzo died in the flower of his age, and then
the trouble began.
Don Henry and his twin brother Don Frederic and their next brother Don
Tello fled from the court. They were justly suspicious of the designs
of their brother Pedro who was now king and of the queen-mother.
Leonora was more confiding. She suffered herself to be drawn within
the power of Dona Maria, and was seized and put to death; and soon
after, the same fate overtook the younger children of Leonora.
These assassinations caused of course a deadly feud between the two
branches of the family; and Don Henry and his brothers raised the
standard of revolt. They were defeated. Don Frederic fell in battle.
Henry and Tello fled to France where they entered the service of king
John II., and fought under the famous captain Bertrand Du Guesclin at
the battle of Poictiers. They were still unfortunate. The French were
routed at Poictiers by the English and Gascons under Edward Prince of
Wales called the Black Prince.
Pedro had been affianced to a sister of the Black Prince, Joanna
Plantagenet daughter of Edward III. but she had died. Pedro then
married Blanche de Bourbon of the younger branch of the blood royal of
France. He lived with her, the chronicles say, just three days. His
affections too had gone astray. He had had the good sense to keep in
his service his father’s prime minister, Albuquerque who it seems was
an able statesman. Albuquerque had a beautiful cousin known in history
as Maria de Padilla. Pedro fell in love with her, and his passion was
as lasting as it was sudden. Indeed the only redeeming trait in that
man’s character seems to have been his undying fondness for a woman he
had no right to love.
Before going further let us finish the story of queen Blanche. Some
years afterwards she died in prison at Medina Sidonia. The average
historian despatches her by poison given by her husband’s orders; but
there really seems to be no other reason to believe he poisoned her
than the habit he had fallen into of dismissing in that manner those
of whom he was weary. All that is certain is that she fell sick and
a physician was called in. That of itself commonly sufficed in those
days. Even later, in the reign of Philip III. we are told by Le Sage
that whenever the fashionable physician of Valladolid was seen to enter
a house, the family undertaker immediately arranged the obsequies
without further notice. And the same conscientious historian relates
as corroborative, that Don Alphonzo de Leyva was once taken ill at a
remote country tavern. His attendants scoured the neighborhood in every
direction to find a doctor but without success. The consequence was Don
Alphonzo de Leyva in a day or two got well and pursued his journey.
There were assassinations enough to lay at the door of Pedro without
that one, and it is bad economy to put there more than are needed.
While Blanche was still living Pedro took it into his head to have
another wife. He forced one of his bishops to marry him to Dona Joanna
de Castro daughter of a noble Castilian. He had lived with Blanche
three days; he lived with Joanna one, and then went back to Maria de
Padilla.
It was in this same family of De Castro that had happened a few years
previous, a tragic event which has ever since been the theme of song
and story.
The father of Joanna for some offence real or pretended, had been
obliged to take refuge in Portugal. He took with him his daughter Iñez
half sister of Joanna. Portugal was then under the rule of Alphonzo IV.
a severe master. His son and heir Pedro of Portugal was a prince of
marked capacity. He was married and lived in peace if not in happiness,
with his wife Constance who was valetudinary and petulant. Iñez de
Castro was beautiful and to her beauty was added grace of manner and
the accomplishments of that age. Pedro was attracted by her and she
was drawn towards him. Their intimacy however did not go beyond the
limits of friendship: the chronicles agree that the rights of Constance
were respected. She was nevertheless jealous and suspicious; she was
haunted with the idea that Pedro was only waiting for her to die in
order to marry Iñez, and she resolved to prevent it. She obtained from
the old king an order commanding Iñez to stand god-mother to one of her
children. This, according to the canons of the Church, was an effectual
bar to a marriage between Iñez and the father of the child. That matter
arranged to her satisfaction, Constance died.
The real barrier between Pedro and Iñez being thus removed they made
short work of the artificial one. Pedro induced the bishop of Guarda to
marry them privately. Iñez was established at Coimbra on the banks of
the Mondego where she become the mother of children. As the marriage
was not known her reputation of course suffered.
King Alphonzo was tolerant enough of this liaison such as he imagined
it to be; but the enemies of Pedro and of the de Castros penetrated the
secret, and betrayed it to the king. He was furious, the more so that
it was whispered in his ear that Iñez was practising against the life
of Ferdinand son of Constance, so as to make way to the throne for her
own son.
Alphonzo determined to put a stop to the thing in the way things were
put a stop to in those days. Accompanied by three of his informers
he flew to Coimbra. Iñez threw herself at his feet and pleaded so
piteously for her life that the old king relented. He had not the
heart to kill her. He turned away and as he withdrew, he let fall some
expressions of impatience at his own weakness, which proved enough
for the ruffians who were with him. They went back and plunged their
daggers in the bosom of Iñez.
The rage of Pedro knew no bounds. He revolted against his father, and
Portugal was devastated by civil war. At last, reflecting that he was
heir to that kingdom, he made peace and became so calm that it was
thought he had forgotten Iñez.
His father died and Pedro ascended the throne of Portugal. His first
purpose was to lay hand on the murderers of Iñez. They had fled into
Castile. He sent an envoy to Pedro-the-cruel claiming them; and the
latter, not hindered by the obvious justice of the claim, gave them
up, that is two of them; the third had escaped into Aragon beyond the
reach of either Pedro. The two surrendered were put to death. Then to
rehabilitate the memory of Iñez Pedro, with the bishop of Guarda by his
side, publicly proclaimed the marriage. The body of Iñez was exhumed
and the ceremony of coronation performed. A crown was placed upon her
brow, and the whole court with Ferdinand son of Constance at the head,
passed before her and kneeled and made obeisance as to a living queen.
A gorgeous funeral followed, and the remains of Iñez were conveyed to
the royal sepulchre of Alcobaca. Often, say the chronicles, did Pedro
go there to weep at the tomb of his beloved wife; and he lies by her
side now.
Such is the history of Iñez de Castro.
To return to Pedro of Castile.
The battle of Poictiers brought about a lull in the war between
England and France, and Bertrand Du Guesclin was out of employment.
He afterwards rose to be constable of France, but at this time he
was a sort of contractor for military work to be paid for in silver
and gold; and we shall see that he was not the only knight of high
renown who bargained for pay. The implements he used were chiefly the
Free-Companions, a class of combatants half soldier half robber that I
have already described in my essay on the Captivity.
Henry of Trastamara proposed to Bertrand to unite their resources,
march into Castile and dethrone Pedro. The knight accepted the offer.
He hung his banner on the outward wall, and the Free-Companions came
flocking to it like crows to a carcass. But where was the money to come
from? the Free-Companions would not fight without pay. So Bertrand
made a speech to them. He told them they were soldiers not thieves,
and that it was more respectable to aid their brother-in-arms Henry
of Trastamara to conquer a kingdom than to be robbing on the highway.
He appealed too to their religious sensibilities, for in the middle
ages religion mingled with everything, and was invoked to sanction all
purposes good or bad. He bade them trust in Providence for their pay,
and reminded them that they must now and then do some good work in
order to give the devil the slip in the end.
The wholesome creed of good works prevailed at that epoch:
justification by faith was hanging back, waiting for Luther; and there
was none of this modern nonsense about there being no devil. These
fellows knew there was one, and that he had cloven hoofs, a pronged
tail and horns. Some of them had seen him, and if you called the fact
in question, were ready to vouch for it with broad-sword or halberd
at your choice. It is an historical error that Saint Dunstan and some
other gentlemen of the cloth were the only persons who saw the devil in
the dark ages.
Du Guesclin’s eloquence prevailed. The men caught the spirit of their
chieftain, and flung up their caps and shouted Long live Henry of
Trastamara! Glory be to God on high! The hosanna was in token of their
repentance and of their resolution to do their marauding for the
present as soldiers. The knave of hearts himself was not more contrite
when he brought back those tarts and vowed he’d steal no more.
They set out for Spain. It occurred to them on the way, that it would
be a pious duty to stop at Avignon and ask the blessing of the pope.
I must refer the reader to the essay on the Captivity for an account of
this visit to his Holiness. It was successful beyond their hopes, so
that now with money in both pockets and the benediction of the pontiff
upon their enterprise, they felt they could ransack Castile with a
clear conscience.
Pedro was not able to hold his own against them. He was driven from
Castile, and Henry of Trastamara was crowned at Burgos.
Pedro fled into Guienne. That province then belonged to the English. It
was a portion of the inheritance of Eleanor wife of Henry II. the first
king of the House of Plantagenet. Edward the Black Prince governed
it as viceroy and held his court at Bordeaux. Edward had been on the
point of becoming brother-in-law to Pedro who had been affianced to
Edward’s sister Joan as I have already related, and Pedro induced him
to undertake to recover for him the throne of Castile. Edward insisted
on a preliminary contract by which Pedro was to pay the cost of the
expedition if successful. He then put his legions in motion. Henry
called Du Guesclin to his side. The knight, probably the best soldier
in Europe after Edward, was averse to a battle. He warned Henry that
their Free-Companions would not stand against the disciplined veterans
of the Black Prince; but Henry was rash as well as brave. He put too
much trust in his Spanish contingent who had fought against the Moors
and never yet turned their backs to an enemy. The result was the
battle of Najara where Henry and Bertrand were defeated; and Pedro was
restored to the throne.
Edward in taking leave, admonished him to be clement to his people,
and not massacre quiet folks who during the short reign of Henry, had
shown respect for the king de facto; and also to pay promptly the
money he owed him. Pedro promised to do both; but Edward’s back was
no sooner turned than the dagger, the bowl and the cord were in full
play again. Pedro seemed to think he had too many subjects and that
it was well to thin them out. One night a gentleman was set upon and
killed in the streets of Toledo. A woman who had witnessed the fray,
testified that one of the murderers made a crackling noise with his
legs in walking. This was a known peculiarity of the king: he was the
assassin. He ordered a wooden effigy of himself to be made and to be
beheaded in the market-place. This expiation procured for him the name
of Pedro-the-just.
As to the other point of his promise, he sent to Edward a small sum
and then suspended payment. Edward demanded the remainder. Pedro,
after having gone through the whole litany of excuses so well known
to debtors, sent him word that if he wanted his money he had better
come and get it. He could now do this with impunity. The prince had
contracted in the Najara campaign, a dysentery which proved fatal. He
lived long enough however to know that he had served an ingrate and to
foretell that the service would do him no good.
The prediction was verified. Henry no sooner learned the death of the
Black Prince than he hastened to concert new measures with Du Guesclin.
Once more did the knight muster his tramps. They burst into Castile
this time without visiting the pope and getting his blessing: perhaps
the former benediction was still of force, though they had doubtless
spent the money. Pedro was besieged in one of his towns and taken
prisoner. He was brought into the presence of Henry. The two brothers
had not met in fifteen years. They drew their swords and flew at each
other with desperate fury, and Pedro fell by the hand of Henry.
Henry of Trastamara once more mounted the throne of Castile, and this
time he transmitted it to his descendants. Through a succession of
Henrys and Johns and Isabellas and Joannas which I spare you, the crown
of Castile fell to Isabella wife of Ferdinand of Aragon. Their grandson
was the great emperor Charles V. From him is descended the present
House of Spain and also the House of Bourbon.
But I have intimated that the queen of England is descended from the
cruel Pedro.
Isabella daughter of Peter and Maria de Padilla, married Edmund duke
of York fifth son of Edward III. Their son Richard earl of Cambridge
married _Anne Mortimer_ a marriage which tied a knot in English
pedigree that it took thirty years of civil war to untie, or rather
to cut with the sword. And who was Anne Mortimer to set all England
together by the ears?
In the several lulls in that civil war, when a Lancastrian and a
Yorkist met by chance and talked politics, the former would say: John
of Gaunt was the fourth son of Edward III. while your Edmund of York
was the fifth, and thus Lancaster takes precedence. Softly my good Sir,
replies the Yorkist: Richard of Cambridge married Anne Mortimer. The
Lancastrian responds with the hyperbole that it is not worth while to
go back to king Arthur. They touch their hats and bid each other good
morning, or what is quite as likely, draw their swords and fight.
But who was Anne Mortimer that no honest Lancastrian could hear her
name with patience?
In Shakspeare’s Henry IV. when the Percies revolt against Henry
of Lancaster, Hotspur says he will find the king asleep and holla
_Mortimer_ in his ear; he will have a starling taught to say nothing
but Mortimer and give it to the king.
What was there in the name of Mortimer to startle so rough a soldier as
Henry IV.?
Lionel duke of Clarence was the third son of Edward III. older
therefore than John of Gaunt. Lionel married an Irish girl named Burke.
They had a daughter Philippa who married Edmund Mortimer earl of March.
The grand-children of Edmund and Philippa were a second Edmund Mortimer
and _Anne_. It was this Edmund whose name Hotspur threatened to holla
in the ear of the sleeping king. Edmund Mortimer was at that moment
king by right, according to the laws of succession to the crown then
as now. The House of Mortimer however could not vindicate its right
against two such powerful usurpers as Henry IV. and Henry V. But their
successor Henry VI. was one of the weakest of monarchs, and under
him the Mortimers began to hold up their heads. By that time they had
become Plantagenets again. Edmund had died without issue; and Anne was
the last of her family. She married as I have said, Richard Plantagenet
earl of Cambridge. Their son was Richard duke of York who won the first
battle of Saint Albans, and came near seizing the crown. His son Edward
IV. did seize it. He married that charming widow Lady Grey daughter of
Jaqueline of Luxembourg. (See Two Jaquelines.) The daughter of that
marriage was Elizabeth Plantagenet who married Henry Tudor, Henry VII.
It is there that Plantagenet becomes Tudor. Their daughter, Margaret
Tudor married James Stuart, James IV. of Scotland, and it is there that
Tudor becomes Stuart. The son of James and Margaret, was another James
Stuart, James V. who married Mary of Guise of that famous House of
Lorraine the upshoot of which is a remarkable event in French history.
It took two assassinations to save the last of the Valois from having
the crown snatched from his head by that able and unscrupulous family.
The daughter of James V. and Mary of Guise was Mary Stuart, queen of
Scots. She married her half-cousin Henry Stuart lord Darnley who like
herself was grandchild of Margaret Tudor, and next to herself, heir to
the English crown. The son of Mary and Henry Stuart was James VI. of
Scotland and first of England. He married Anne of Denmark, and their
daughter Elizabeth Stuart married Frederic count Palatine. The daughter
of Elizabeth and Frederic was Sophia who married Ernest Augustus,
elector of Hanover, and became the mother of George I. George III. was
great-grandson of George I. and Victoria is granddaughter of George III.
Thus have we traced the pedigree of the Queen from Peter-the-cruel.
After so fatiguing a stretch, it is a comfort to take breath and
reflect that thus far the Queen has not developed the objectionable
traits of her ancestor. She has never been known to poison anybody, nor
has a single case of midnight assassination been made out against her.
John Wiclif
It has been said that three men struck telling blows at the Roman
hierarchy: Philip the fourth, John Wiclif and Martin Luther: a
Frenchman, an Englishman and a German. The first opened the way for
the other two. Philip IV. called the fair, that is the handsome, was
the greatest of the Capetien kings, but his greatness was intellectual
only. If he contributed largely to lead mankind out of the bog of
superstition in which they were swamped, he did it simply to gratify
his own rapacity and ambition. He was the first monarch to challenge
the Church to a combat à outrance; and he succeeded in leading her
captive literally as well as figuratively.
It is useless to try, as some quasi historians do, to explain the
career of Wiclif without taking into consideration the state of the
Church at that epoch; and if the reader is not informed on that point,
he will not profit much by this essay till he has read, marked, learned
and inwardly digested the previous one on the Captivity of Babylon.
Cotemporary with Philip IV. was Edward I. of England. The two were
pretty evenly matched. Edward was probably the better soldier; but in
his negotiations with Philip, the advantage remained to the latter.
Edward married for his second wife Philip’s sister; and Edward’s son
married Philip’s daughter. It was this last marriage that caused the
hundred years war.