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LITERATURE AND THE FINE ARTS.

205

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of this than any policy or conduct of the monarch. what we will," said Louis XII., in his declining days, “that big fellow Francis will spoil all." Yet it is difficult to say what he did spoil. He certainly refrained from calling the states together; yet Louis had but once adopted that measure : and Francis certainly did no more than follow the steps of his predecessor in the mode of levying taxes, however he might surpass him in the measure. The people were not discontented with Francis; unfortunately they did not regret the states. It was to sedition, and to a lack of authority, that most of the past divisions and disasters of France were to be ascribed: and the people congratulated themselves upon having a powerful king, who had humbled the chiefs of the aristocracy, and who secured to all an equal distribution of justice. Unfortunately, too, the tide of the time ran towards despotic power in a monarch, and the monarch went with this tide. But I cannot look upon Francis as selfishly or designedly culpable of undermining the liberties of France.

The glory of the monarch's reign is his patronage of letters and of the fine arts. Primaticcio, under whose direction so many noble edifices sprung up in France, was an architect whom his liberality had enticed from Italy; and Leonardo da Vinci, more famed, though less prolific, as a painter, won from the same country by Francis, reflects honor on his patronage and taste. Of literature, unfortunately for the fame of the munificent king, the rude foundations were yet to be laid; and these he applied himself to establish, in endowing colleges, in opening schools, in inviting men of learning to his capital, and rewarding them. As yet there were not materials, there existed not that refinement of tongue, that maturity of taste, requisite for the production of great works. Still Rabelais indulged his coarse wit with impunity, being in this respect more fortunate than Marot. This first of the French poets early espoused the principles of Calvin, and materially helped to disseminate them by his translation of the Psalms, which soon became the favorite chant of the people. To sing them, however, was considered a crime worthy of the stake; and Marot was obliged to save himself from that punishment by voluntary exile.

CHAP. VII.

1547-1559.

HENRY THE SECOND.

HENRY II. was thirty years of age when he ascended the throne. He resembled his father in size and strength, but had not the same graces of person; neither had he the taste, the warmth, the talents, or the amiability of Francis. Still he had commanded armies without disrepute, and was violently attached to those rude and warlike exercises which had been a pastime of his father. Although passionless, he had thought fit to follow the example of Francis in selecting a mistress. This was Diana of Poitiers, soon after created duchess of Valentinois, a dame who was of an age to be his mother, and who really exercised a kind of maternal authority over him. Francis, having observed with pain his son's dullness and uncouthness, had rejoiced at seeing him devote himself to an accomplished woman, who might form his manners and awaken his taste. The charms of Diana, however, were productive of little effect upon Henry, save that of establishing her own influence. She had, even in the lifetime of the late monarch, engaged Henry in a kind of unmeaning rivalry or hostility towards the court, or rather towards the duchess d'Etampes. The existence of these parties has been noticed, and the constable Montmorency owed his long disgrace in part to their intrigues.

The first act of the new king was to summon Montmorency to court and to re-establish him in authority; which, however, he shared with the Guises, and with the mareschal Saint André, the playmate of Henry, and the son of his governor. The duchess d'Etampes was deprived of all the rich possessions that she owed to the favor of the late king; and her husband was even urged to institute a law-suit against her, in which Henry himself had the meanness to appear as a witness. This proceeded from the triumphant rivalry of Diana. The severe spirit of Montmorency showed itself in the execution of de Coucy, and of the mareschal du Biez, for not having defended Boulogne with more vigor. Montmorency affected the character of Cato the Censor:--it was the fashion to adopt classic heroes as models;-hence he gave full scope to a rude and merciless temper. Jealous of the influence of prelates and cardinals, he banished them from court, and would willingly have passed the same decree against the

1547.

POLICY OF HENRY II.

207

ladies who thronged thither; but Diana of Poitiers was not to be resisted, and the constable, instead of opposing, rather courted her favor. Another point of Montmorency's character, for which, too, he might plead the example of his Roman model, should not be omitted,-this was avarice. He labored and intrigued to add to his rich domains, and terrified the ount de Chateaubriand so as to compel that nobleman to beueath his possessions to the Montmorencies. Thus, as Francis robbed the unfortunate man of his wife, the minister of Francis robbed him of his heritage. The Guises acted a different part from that of Montmorency: they were, indeed, equally urgent for place and pension, but then their purpose was to lavish, not to hoard. They were generous, and expended largely in gaining friends and partisans; as if, from the commencement, they had been actuated by the ambition of raising their family to the first rank in the state. When these greedy and contending chiefs of parties came to divide at once the gifts of royalty, and the spoil of the people,Diana of Poitiers, for example, received all the fines paid for the renewal of offices and privileges under the new reign,-men at once perceived and regretted the prudent policy of Francis, who had exiled the constable, and mistrusted the Guises. Acting contrary to his example and advice, and allowing the great aristocratic chiefs to acquire influence and wealth in the administration, instead of changing his ministers, and preventing the undue pre-eminence of any subject, Henry laid the foundation of those party intrigues and civil wars which proved the destruction of his race.

It was the care of the new king to celebrate the obsequies of his predecessor in the most magnificent style. The bishop, who pronounced the funeral oration, used a bold metaphor, which gave occasion to the bigots of the Sorbonne to show their zeal. King Francis, according to the worthy prelate, had been of so holy à life, that his soul had gone straight into paradise without passing through the flames of purgatory. The denial of purgatory was a favorite tenet of the reformers. The Sorbonne forthwith accused the preacher of heresy they sent a deputation to St. Germain to make known their complaint to the king. Mendosa, a chief officer of the court, first received it; and by a facetious speech, saved Henry from an act of injustice. "Calm yourselves, gentlemen,” said he to the deputies of the Sorbonne; "if you had known the good king Francis as well as I did, you would have better understood the words of the preacher. Francis was not a man to tarry long anywhere; and if he did take a turn in purgatory, believe me, the devil himself could not persuade him to make any thing like a sojourn."

The famous duel between Jarnac and Chataigneraie, was the first striking event of Henry's reign. They had both neen pages in the court of Francis I. Chataigneraie was a stout youth, given to quarrel, skilled at his weapon, and renowned for his hardihood: he excelled in those rude and martial exercises which the dauphin Henry loved, and was consequently a favorite with him. Jarnac, on the contrary was a beau, given to gallantry, and fond of dress and elegance; a taste which he indulged to an extent beyond his apparent means. It happened that once in the society of Henry, Chataigneraie, contemning such taste and such a mode of life, asked Jarnac, where he found resources for such expense? Jarnac replied, "that although his father was liberal in his allowances, yet that he obtained an increase of funds through his stepmother, with whom he had made himself a favorite." This passed. But Chataigneraie construed the words of Jarnac into an insinuation that he enjoyed the favor of his stepmother in a criminal sense. He mentioned this to Henry, who repeated it to Diana of Poitiers. The calumny circulated in whispers, and at length reached the ears of Jarnac's father. The son was summoned. In horror he disavowed the crime, and succeeded in exculpating himself. He followed this up by appearing before Francis in the presence of the court, and declaring, that whoever had given birth to such a report "lied in his throat." The dauphin took this deadly insult to himself: he, however, could not come forward. The rude Chataigneraie did, and asserted that he had heard Jarnac boast of having been too intimate with his stepmother. A challenge, of course, was the consequence, and Francis was besought by the antagonists to appoint the field for a combat, the issue of which was to decide the guilt or innocence of Jarnac. Francis, however, forbade the duel, either averse to the absurd principle of judicial combat, or aware how much the imprudence of his son had been the occasion of the quarrel. On Henry's accession, Jarnac renewed his challenge and demand. The king consented. The lists were prepared at St. Germain: Henry and his court were witnesses. When the antagonists met in the inclosed field, the slender Jarnac seemed unable to resist the powerful Chataigneraie: he retired before his blows, covering himself with his buckler, until seizing an opportunity he wounded his adversary in the back of the leg, and completely disabled him. The victor, however, spared his adversary. Having in vain asked Chataigneraie to recall the calumnies that he had uttered, Jarnac advanced towards the monarch, and, by the usual courtesy of placing it at the sovereign's disposal, waived his right to his enemy's life. The fierce Chataigneraie scorn

1548.

INSURRECTION AT BORDEAUX.

209

ed to be thus spared: he refused chirurgical aid; even tore his wounds open when they had been dressed, and died. Such was the judicial conbat, in which may be said to have origi nated the modern Zuel.

The new reign was signalized by a number of new edicts. Robberies and assassinations had become more common: commerce with Italy, and the recent invention of the pistol, that convenient weapon for concealment and menace, contributed to this. Severe laws for seizing murderers were enacted, and the condemned were to be broken on the wheel. Arms were forbidden, except for the military. The jurisdiction of the provost of the police was extended, to the dissatisfaction of the parliament, who protested, and could only be brought to register the law by considering the wickedness of the age. A complete poor-law was at the same time enacted for the capital; and sumptuary edicts prohibited the use of silk and velvet, with curious exceptions in favor of different garments and personages. To call together the states was no more the policy of Henry than of Francis; and to impose new taxes was an unpopular commencement of a new reign: nevertheless, the fixed revenue did not suffice; war was becoming daily more expensive. An increase in the current value of coin, for the sale of the crown-lands, and the demand of a free gift from the good towns, were the first financial measures of Henry.

After his consecration the king proceeded to make the tour of his dominions, visiting his strong places, and reviewing his armies. He had reached Turin, when tidings arrived of a serious insurrection in Angoumois and Saintonge. The gabelleurs, or collectors of the salt-tax, had commenced their operations in the new reign with increased rigor. The inhabitants of the little town of Lorignac first thought proper to resist they beat the collectors, and put them to flight. The whole country, on learning this success, fell on the odious gabelleurs: the peasants armed and mustered; and the collectors having disappeared, they proceeded to attack the châteaux of the gentry. The insurrection at length reached Bordeaux; and its governor, Monneins, found it necessary to shut himself in Château-trompette, the fortress of the town. Imprudently coming forth soon afterwards to parley with the insurgents, he was slain. The people salted his mangled remains, to mark the cause of their sedition.

The king, on learning these excesses, instantly returned to Lyons, and dispatched the constable with an army to crush the insurrection. The Bordelais, who knew his severe temper, were terrified at his approach. They sent a splendid bark for his conveyance, with their keys, in token of submis