[Footnote 84: The earl of Warwick was killed at the battle of
Barnet,--and the prince of Wales was ungenerously murdered after the
fatal battle of Tewkesbury, for a spirited answer to an insolent demand
from Edward IV.]
[Footnote 85: Never was the proverb of 'like master like man'--'tel
mâitre, tel valet,' so truly exemplified as in Louis XI. and Olivier le
Diable, Olivier le Mauvais, or, as the king ordered him to be called in
his letters of nobility, Olivier le Daim. I copy from the 222d number
of Proofs to Comines what M. Godefroy said of this infamous character.
'Philip de Comines cries out justly against the choice the king
made of a man of such a character as his ambassador to the princess
of Burgundy. Master Olivier (for thus he was called in the low
countries, where, to this day, the masters of any trade are called by
their Christian names only) was born in the little town of Thielt,
a dependancy on the castlewick of Courtray in Flanders. He went to
France and became barber to the king, whose confidence he gained by his
intrigues.
'Having acquired great riches, the desire of appearing with eclat in
the country of his birth, which is the usual presumption of persons
suddenly raised from the dregs of the people to high rank, blinded him
so much that he accepted of an embassy, which he naturally should have
refused, if he had not been devoured with pride.
'The magnificence of his equipage only served to make him more despised
by his countrymen--and the barber was plainly seen under the dress of a
prince. The ghent men would have made his time pass unpleasantly, and,
if he had not avoided it by a precipitate retreat, would have suffered
what he afterward could not escape from.
'He was one of the most profligate and unprincipled men in the world.'
Here follows what a french author, named Boitel, relates of the latter
end of his life, in the 321st page 'des intentions morales, civiles, et
militaires d'Antoine le Pipre,' printed at Antwerp in the year 1625.
'You must know that Louis XI. king of France, bewitched with friendship
for Olivier le Daim, (whose first trade was that of barber) made him
governor of the castle of Loches, which was and is at this moment, a
handsome establishment, appointed him to the government of St Quentin,
in Picardy, and made him one of the gentlemen of his bed-chamber.
He had purchased considerable lordships from the great riches he
possessed, and plunged into all kinds of luxuries, as well during the
king's life as after his death.
'It happened one day that a young gentleman committed a crime, for
which the provost of the king's household had him confined. His wife,
fearing the consequences might be fatal to her husband, solicited every
one whom she thought had credit with king Charles VIII. Thinking that
Olivier le Daim might enjoy the same favour as with the late king,
from seeing him richly dressed, followed by many of the courtiers,
and having admittance to the king's apartments when he pleased, she
addressed herself to him, and entreated that he would obtain her
husband's liberty. Olivier observing that the suitress was young,
handsome, and elegantly made, promised the deliverance of her husband,
provided she would yield to his desires, which after many difficulties,
she consented to.
'To perform his promise, he went to the provost and desired that he
would not criminate the gentleman, which he refused. He then begged
that he would allow him to escape, as if he had forced his way out of
prison; but this he more obstinately refused. Master Olivier, seeing
himself thus disappointed, began to reproach the provost for his
ingratitude,--for he had given him his place, and had also obtained
for him, from Louis XI. many rich presents; and when that king was
much irritated against him for bad management in his office, he had
appeased the king's anger. In short, these reproaches had such an
effect on the provost that he told him to consider on some means for
the prisoner to escape, provided that he were not brought into trouble,
nor implicated,--for those who had caused him to be confined had great
power. Master Olivier replied, that the most secure method would be
to strangle him in his dungeon, and to throw the body into the river;
for then his enemies would be satisfied, and his wife, by avoiding the
infamy of a public execution, would likewise be contented,--and this
would be the means of gratifying all parties.
'Having fixed on their plan, master Olivier solicited the lady to come
that night to his lodgings, which she complied with, assuring herself
that on the morrow she should obtain her husband's liberty; but she was
deceived; for while master Olivier, was caressing her in bed, his valet
de chambre Daniel, with another called Oyac, strangled the miserable
gentleman in the provost's prison, and then dragged the body to the
Seine. The corpse floated on the water, as they were unable to sink it.
The boatmen drew it to the bank, where it lay the whole day, and was
viewed by numbers, who immediately recognised it for the body of such a
gentleman. The wife, who had risen early in the expectation of meeting
her husband, was told that he had been drowned, and was then lying on
the bank of the river. Thither she hastened and found the report but
too true.
'This unfortunate lady flung herself on the corpse, and, with bitter
tears, cursed Olivier le Daim, who had deceived her, and ravished
her honour, under promise of procuring her husband's liberty. Her
lamentations excited the pity of the populace in so great a decree that
they informed the officers of justice of what had happened. On this,
master Olivier was arrested, and sentenced to the torture; but without
suffering much, he confessed the fact, imagining his judges would not
dare to condemn him, and, if they should, he trusted to his favour with
the king. He was, however, completely mistaken; for, being hated for
his abuse of authority under Louis XI. he was sentenced to be hanged
and strangled. His servant Daniel was condemned to make a pecuniary
restitution to the widow.
'With regard to Oyac, he was not hanged, because it had appeared on the
trial that he would not assist to strangle the gentleman in prison,
although he had aided to throw him into the river; for which he was
condemned to have his ears cut off, his tongue pierced, and to be
banished the realm.
'Master Olivier was pitied by none: and it may be shown, from an
infinity of examples, that a disgraceful or an unfortunate death is
commonly the lot of such as put their trust in the favour of princes,
abuse their authority, and only make use of their great riches in the
commission of the most enormous crimes. God becomes tired of their
iniquities, and commences even in this world to punish them for their
wickednesses.'
This crime may be nearly matched by that of another monster in our own
country. Colonel Kirke, when pursuing the duke of Monmouth's partisans
at Taunton, was guilty of an act attended with rather more insulting
cruelty; and to him likewise may be applied the motto, 'Tel mâitre, tel
valet.'
There is also a similar story told in 491. of the Spectator; but it is
not mentioned by Comines, or by any other historian of that period that
I am acquainted with.]