BOOK THE EIGHTH. (continued 3)
Reading edition
Ch. XXIII.—Of certain Differences that arose between Charles King of France, and Ferrand King of Castile; and the Ambassadors who were sent by both of them to accommodate the Affair.—1497.
From the beginning of 1496, when the king had already been four months on this side of the mountains, till the year 1498, our forces lay still, and did nothing in Italy: I was present all that while with his majesty, and privy to most of his affairs. He went from Lyons to Moulins, and from Moulins to Tours, spending his time in nothing but jousts and tournaments wherever he came, without ever thinking of other affairs. Those who were in greatest reputation with him, were in great dissension among themselves, and it could hardly be greater. Some (as the Cardinal and seneschal) were for carrying on the war in Italy, because it was for their profit and advantage; the admiral[483] on the other side (who before that expedition had been the king’s greatest favourite), opposed it in hopes to be restored to his former authority and to supplant his competitors; and in this posture things stood about a year and a half.
In the meantime our king sent ambassadors to the King and Queen of Castile, for his majesty desired to be at peace with them, because they were very powerful both at sea and land; and though at land they had done no extraordinary exploits, yet by sea they had given Kings Ferrand and Frederic very considerable assistance; for the island of Sicily is distant from Rheggio in Calabria only a league and a half. Some are of opinion it was formerly joined to the continent[484], and in process of time separated from it by the sea. The opening is now called the Straits of Messina. From this island of Sicily, which belonged to the King and Queen of Castile, large supplies were sent to Naples, as well in caravels from Spain, as in men from the island, out of which several men-at-arms passed the sea into Calabria, with a good number of Spanish Genetaires, and made war against those who appeared for our king. Their fleet was continually joined with the confederates, and when they were united, our king was too weak to meet them at sea; otherwise the King of Castile had not done him much mischief. It is true a good body of his horse made an inroad into Languedoc, plundered some few towns, and quartered up and down that country for three or four days; but that was all, and no considerable damage done. Monsieur de St. André[485] (of Bourbonnois) being then upon the frontier with some troops belonging to the Duke of Bourbon, who was governor of Languedoc, attempted to take Sausses[486], a small town in Roussillon, from whence the enemy made all his incursions; for the king had restored the said Roussillon to them about two years before, in which province there is the territory of Perpignan, and this Sausses is in the middle of it. The design was great, because the town was strongly garrisoned with a detachment of the King of Castile’s own guards, and within a league lay their whole army, which was more numerous than ours, and ready to engage us. However, Monsieur de St. André managed his affairs so prudently, and with so much secrecy, that in ten hours’ time he took the town (which I have seen) by assault[487] and in it there were thirty or forty Spanish gentlemen of good quality slain, and among them the son of the Archbishop of St. James’s[488], besides three or four hundred more. They did not suppose we should have been masters of it so soon, because they knew not the goodness of our cannon, which certainly are the finest and best in Europe.
No other but this action happened between these two kings, and this was much to the dishonour of the King of Castile, who had such a numerous army in the field. But when God Almighty is pleased to chastise a nation for its sins, He begins with such small and supportable afflictions; for the King and Queen of Castile were visited afterwards with greater afflictions, and so were we too. The King and Queen of Castile acted very imprudently, and were ill-advised to forswear themselves to our master, especially after he had been so friendly as to restore Roussillon, which had cost his father so much to fortify and defend, and which had been mortgaged to him for 300,000 crowns; all which was remitted to hinder him from disturbing our king in his intended conquest of Naples. Besides which, they renewed the ancient alliances with not only king and king, kingdom and kingdom, but the individual subjects on both sides were mutually bound; and they promised not to interrupt us in our conquest, nor to marry any of their daughters with the houses of either Naples, England, or Flanders; which offer came first from themselves, and was made by one Friar John de Mauleon, on the part of the Queen of Castile. Yet as soon as they saw the war begun, and the king at Rome, they sent their ambassadors to all the neighbouring states to make an alliance against our king; and particularly to Venice, where I was resident at that time; and there the league (which I have spoken of so much) was made between the Pope, the King of the Romans, the Signory of Venice, the Spaniards, and the Duke of Milan; and immediately they began to act offensively against our king, and to declare that their former obligation had become void, and they were no longer bound to observe it, especially that article about the marriage of their daughters (of whom they had four, and but one son), though they first made that offer of themselves, as you have already heard.
But to proceed in my history. After the wars in Italy were over, and the king had nothing left in the kingdom of Naples but Gaeta, which he lost afterwards,—after the rival pretensions to Roussillon were adjusted, and each prince was in possession of what was his own, they sent a gentleman to King Charles, and with him certain monks of Montferrat, it being the custom of Spain to manage all their negotiations by such people, either out of hypocrisy and pretence of religion, or to save expense; for, as I said before, the treaty about Roussillon was managed by Friar John de Mauleon. These ambassadors, at their first audience, besought the king that he would forget the injury that had been done him by the King and Queen of Castile (which king and queen are always mentioned together, because Castile came by her, and she had in that country the principal authority, and it was a marriage of more than ordinary honour). Then they began to propose a truce, in which their whole league was to be comprehended, and our king was to keep Gaeta in his possession, and what other places were then in his hands in the kingdom of Naples; that during the truce his majesty might victual them as he pleased; and that a time and place should be appointed, at which ambassadors from all the parties to the league (or as many as desired it) should meet to conclude a final peace; after which the King and Queen of Spain intended to pursue the conquest of the Moors, and, having finished that, to pass over from Granada into Africa against the King of Fez, whose kingdom reaches to the coast on the other side of that sea. However, some say they never designed to do this, but were resolved to be satisfied with the conquest of the kingdom of Granada, which indeed was a glorious action, and the fairest acquisition which had been gained, not only in our times, but by all their predecessors; and I wish for their own sakes they had rested there, and kept their promise to our king.
With these ambassadors of theirs our king sent back the Lord of Clerieux[489], in Dauphiny, and endeavoured to conclude either a separate peace or a truce with them, without comprehending any of the rest of the confederates; but if the king had accepted their overture, he had preserved Gaeta, which might have been sufficient for the recovery of the whole kingdom, considering what friends his majesty had in it. When the Lord of Clerieux returned, he brought new propositions, for Gaeta was lost before he got to Castile. These propositions were, that the ancient alliance between the two crowns should be renewed, and that by common consent and expense they should endeavour the conquest of Italy, and that both the kings should be personally present in that expedition.[490] But first they insisted that a general truce might be concluded, wherein the whole league should be comprehended, and a day and place appointed in Piedmont, to which each of them might send their ambassadors; for they were desirous to acquit themselves honourably towards their confederates. But all this overture, in my opinion, (and I have understood as much since), was but an artifice to gain time, and suffer King Ferrand and his successor King Frederic to breathe a little. However, they would have been contented to have had that kingdom to themselves, and their title was better than that of those who possessed it; but our king’s title (which was the house of Anjou’s) was better than either; yet, considering the nature of the country, and the people who inhabit it, I think he has best right to it that can keep possession of it, so strangely are they inclined to revolutions.
After this, the king sent Clerieux back again into Spain, and with him one Michel de Grammont, with certain new proposals. This Lord de Clerieux had some little affection for the house of Arragon, and hoped to have the marquisate of Cotron in Calabria, which the King of Spain obtained among the last conquests which he made in that province. Clerieux pretended it was his, for he is an honest man, but something too credulous, especially of such great persons. The second time he returned, he brought back with him another ambassador from them, and the Lord de Clerieux reported that the King and Queen of Castile would be contented to take Calabria (which is the part of Italy that lies next Sicily) for their whole interest in that kingdom, and that our king should have the rest; he offered likewise that the King of Castile should be present in person in this intended expedition, and contribute as much towards paying the army as our king; and, indeed, he was at that time master of four or five fortified towns in Calabria, and among the rest was Cotron, which is not only a strong, but a beautiful city. I was present when the ambassador made his report, and most were of opinion he had been imposed upon, and that it would be necessary to send another ambassador of greater sagacity, to search more narrowly into the affair. Upon which the Lord du Bouchage was joined with him in the embassy. He was a person of great wisdom and penetration in state affairs, and had enjoyed places of great trust and honour in the late king’s reign, and was still highly valued and esteemed by his son. The Spanish ambassador, who came along with the Lord de Clerieux, would never confirm what he had said; only he told us, that he believed Monsieur de Clerieux would not have made that report, if the King and Queen of Castile had not said it; which gave us the more suspicion it was a trick; and, besides, nobody could believe the King of Spain would go thither in person, or that he would, or indeed could, bear an equal share of the expense with our master.
As soon as the Lord du Bouchage, Monsieur de Clerieux, Michel de Grammont, and the rest of our ambassadors, were arrived at the court of the King and Queen of Castile, they ordered them to be lodged in apartments where none could converse with them, and appointed persons to have an eye over them, and they were admitted to three private audiences of the king and queen. When the Lord du Bouchage had acquainted them with what the Lord de Clerieux had reported to his master, and Michel de Grammont had confirmed it, they answered, that they might have said some such thing by way of discourse, but not otherwise, yet they would readily engage themselves in any peace that should be for our master’s honour and advantage. The Lord de Clerieux was very uneasy at their answer (and with reason), and justified to their faces, in the presence of the Lord du Bouchage, that they had made him this offer. However, the Lord du Bouchage and the other ambassadors concluded a truce for two months[491], without comprehending the league in it; but including the princes who had married their daughters, and the fathers of their sons-in-law (namely, the King of the Romans, and the King of England), for the Prince of Wales[492] was but very young at that time. The King and Queen of Castile had four daughters; the eldest was a widow, and married to the son of the King of Portugal[493], who died lately, having broken his neck in her sight as he was passing a career upon a jennet before her, three months after their marriage; and they had one daughter[494] unmarried.
As soon as the Lord du Bouchage was arrived, and had informed the king of his reception at the Spanish court, his majesty was sensible he had acted wisely in sending him, for now he was assured of what he but suspected before, and that was, the credulity of the Lord de Clerieux. The Lord du Bouchage told him, moreover, that all he could obtain was that truce, which, however, his majesty had liberty either to accept or reject. The king confirmed it, and therein he did wisely, for it broke up that confederacy which had given so much disturbance to his affairs, and which hitherto he had been unable to dissolve, though he had tried all possible means to do it. The Lord du Bouchage also acquainted his majesty, that they would send ambassadors to him with power to conclude a peace; and of this the King and Queen of Castile had assured him when he had his audience of leave. He told our king also, that at his coming away he left their only son, the Prince of Castile, very dangerously ill.
Ch. XXIV.—A Digression concerning the Fortunes and Misfortunes which happened to the House of Castile in the Author’s Time.—1497.
The Lord du Bouchage, ten or twelve days after his return into France, received letters from a herald, whom he had left behind to wait on the ambassadors that were to come from thence. The letters were to this purpose, that he must not wonder at their deferring the embassy, because of the death of the Prince of Castile[495] (as they called him), to the unspeakable grief of the king and queen, but especially of the queen, who was more like to die than to live; and certainly I never heard of so solemn and so universal a mourning for any prince in Europe. I have since been informed by ambassadors, that all the tradesmen put themselves into black clothes, and shut up their shops for forty days together; the nobility and gentry covered their mules with black cloth down to their very knees, so that there was nothing of them to be seen but their eyes; and set up black banners upon all the gates of the cities. When the Lady Margaret (daughter to the King of the Romans[496], sister to the Archduke of Austria[497], and wife to the said Prince of Castile) was informed of the news of his death, she miscarried of a daughter (being six months gone with child), which was born dead. What a terrible blow must this have been to a family which had known nothing before but felicity and renown, and had a larger territory (I mean by succession) than any other prince in Christendom! And, besides the late acquisition of Granada, they had forced the greatest monarch in Europe out of Italy, and defeated his enterprise, which was looked upon to be such a mighty action even by the Pope[498] himself, that he would have taken away the title of “Most Christian” from the King of France, and conferred it on the King of Castile, to whom several briefs were addressed with that title superscribed; but, because some of the Cardinals opposed it, he gave him another title, which was, “The Most Catholic,” by which title he is called now, and I suppose he will be styled so for ever at Rome. What a sad and surprising turn of fortune must this accident have been! at a time when they had reduced their kingdom to obedience, regulated the laws, settled the administration of justice, and were so well and happy in their own persons, as if God and man had conspired to advance their power and honour above all the rest of the princes in Europe.
Nor was this their only affliction, for their eldest daughter (the dearest thing to them in the world after the death of her brother) was forced to leave them, having some few days before been married to Emanuel[499], the young King of Portugal. He was then indeed but Prince of Portugal; but the crown of Portugal fell to him by the death of the last King of Portugal, who had most barbarously caused the head of his father-in-law[500] to be cut off, and killed his wife’s brother[501] with his own hand (who was elder brother to the king that now reigns in Portugal), and kept this present king in perpetual fear, and killed his own brother before his wife’s face, as they were sitting at dinner, to make way for one of his bastards[502] to be king. After which cruelties he lived in continual fear and suspicion, and not long after his only son broke his neck by falling off his mule, as you have heard; and he was the first husband to the lady of whom I am now speaking, and who is Queen of Portugal at present, into which kingdom she has been twice married; and by report she is one of the wisest and most honourable persons in the world.
But, to continue our relation of the miserable accidents which in a short space befel the King and Queen of Castile, who had lived in so much glory and felicity to the fiftieth year of their age or more, you must know they had married their eldest daughter to the King of Portugal, first that all Spain might be in peace; for they were entirely possessed of all its provinces, except the kingdom of Navarre, which they governed as they pleased, and in which they had also four of the strongest towns. Secondly, to adjust and compose the difference about her dower and marriage-portion: and, thirdly, for the benefit and advantage of some of the grandees of Portugal, who were in the King of Castile’s interest; for by this match those lords who were banished that country upon the death of the two princes above-mentioned, and had had their estates confiscated (which continues to this day, though the crime of which they were accused was only endeavouring to set this king up who now reigns), had estates given them in Castile; and their lands in Portugal, which were forfeited by the attainder, were assigned to the queen’s use. And yet, notwithstanding all these considerations, the King and Queen of Castile were extremely troubled at this match; for you must understand there is no nation in Europe that the Spaniards abhor and deride so much as they do the Portuguese. So that it was no small mortification to them that they had married their daughter to a person that was not pleasing to the Castilians and the rest of their subjects, and had it been to be done again, it would never have been done; which must needs have been a great affliction to them, and the greater, because she had to leave them. But, having mastered their sorrow as well as they could, they conducted them through all the chief cities in their kingdoms, caused the King of Portugal to be received as their prince, his queen as princess, and declared them their successors after their decease. And now a little comfort came to them; for their daughter, Princess of Castile and Queen of Portugal, was pregnant of a child. But then followed the consummation of their sorrows, this young lady, whom they loved and valued so highly, died in childbed of a son about a month since, and it is now October 1498. Though the queen died, yet her son lived, and is called Emanuel[503] after his father; yet I am informed their affliction is so great, they would have given God thanks to have taken them with their daughter.
All these great misfortunes happened to them in three months’ space; nor were we without our share of afflictions; for, before the death of the above-mentioned princess, we in this kingdom were chastised and afflicted by the death of King Charles VIII., of whom I have spoken so much, and who died as you shall hear hereafter; and it seemed as if God had been offended with both these illustrious families, and would not suffer the one to triumph over the other. No such revolution happens in a kingdom, but it is generally attended with very sad consequences, and though possibly some may be gainers, yet there will be a hundred losers to one who profits, besides the changing of a man’s whole life and conversation; for that which pleases one king will hardly be agreeable to another. And (as I have said in another place) he that reflects upon the sudden and severe chastisements which God has inflicted on the great princes of Europe within these thirty years, shall find them more and greater than in two hundred years before, including France, Castile, Portugal, England, the Kingdom of Naples, Flanders, and Bretagne; and if any should attempt to give a particular account of all the misfortunes which I have seen, (and perhaps most of the persons, both men and women, on whom they fell), it would swell into a vast volume, and astonish the whole world, though it contained no more than the occurrences of ten years past. By these afflictions the power of God ought to be acknowledged and remembered; for the troubles which he lays upon princes are heavier, more grievous, and more lasting than those he lays upon inferior persons. So that, in short (upon a full and just consideration of all circumstances), I think the lives of princes are as much subject to afflictions and anxiety of mind as other men’s, at least if they regard their own affairs themselves, and endeavour to prevent such miseries from falling upon them as they see have ruined their neighbours. It is true they punish their subjects at their pleasure, and God does the same by them; for, besides Him, there is none above them. But that kingdom is most happy whose king is wise, and fears God and his commandments.
Thus have you seen, in few words, the misfortunes which within the space of three months befel these two great and potent kingdoms, which not long before were so incensed one against the other, so busy to subvert one another, and so intent upon their own interest and advancement, that nothing which they enjoyed was sufficient to satisfy their boundless ambition. I confess (as I said before) no change happens in any government but some people are the better for it; yet when a prince dies suddenly his death is at first terrible to all.
Ch. XXV.—Of the magnificent Building which King Charles began not long before his Death; his good Inclination to reform the Church, the Laws, the Treasury, and himself; and how he died suddenly in this Resolution in his Castle at Amboise.—1498.
I have now done with the affairs of Italy and Spain, and shall return to speak of our own misfortunes and losses in France (at which some people might possibly rejoice, especially if they gained anything by them), and give you an account of the death of Charles VIII., our king, who died suddenly at his castle of Amboise, where he had begun the most august and magnificent building that any prince had undertaken for one hundred years before, both in the town and the castle; and this appears by the towers, to the top of which one may ride on horseback. As to his building in the town, the design was admirable, the model lofty, and the erection would have required a great deal of time. He had brought his artificers (as his carvers, painters, and such like) from Italy, so that the whole fabric seemed the enterprise of a young prince who had no thought of dying so soon; for he collected whatever was commended to him either in France, Italy, or Flanders. Besides this great work, his mind was bent upon another expedition into Italy, for he was sensible he had committed many great errors in his first; he spoke often of them, and resolved, if ever he recovered what he had lost in that country, he would keep it better than he had done; and, having partisans and intelligence in all places, he thought it not impossible but he might return and recover the kingdom of Naples; to which purpose he resolved to send thither a body of fifteen hundred Italian men-at-arms under the command of the Marquis of Mantua, the Ursini, the Vitelli, and the Prefect of Rome, who was brother to the Cardinal of St. Peter ad Vincula; and the Lord d’Aubigny, who had done such good service in Calabria, was to march into the territories of the Florentines, who were to bear half the charges for six months. His first attempt was to have been upon Pisa, or the adjacent small towns; and then, joining all his forces, to march in one body into the kingdom of Naples, from whence messengers were sent to him continually. Pope Alexander VI., who now reigns, being offended with the Venetians, endeavoured to come into the alliance, and carried on private intrigues for the purpose by means of an agent that lay incognito, whom I privately conveyed into the king’s chamber not long before his death. The Venetians were ready to join with us against the Duke of Milan, and our negociations with Spain were as you have heard; the King of the Romans desired nothing so earnestly as the friendship of our king, and that they two might manage their own affairs in Italy by themselves. This King of the Romans was called Maximilian, and he was a mortal enemy to the Venetians, because they had taken and kept several places belonging to the house of Austria, of which he was next heir, and heir to the empire besides.
The king had also resolved within himself to live a more strict and religious life than he had formerly done, to regulate the laws, to reform the Church, and so to rectify his finances that he would not raise above one million two hundred thousand francs upon his subjects by way of annual tax, which was the sum given him by the three Estates at their convention at Tours, upon his accession to the throne. He intended the said sum should be employed in the defence of the kingdom, and for himself he would live upon his crown lands, as his predecessors had done before him; which he might easily have done if it had been well managed, for his private revenue (comprehending his duties and customs) came to above a million a year. Had he done as he resolved, it would have been a great ease to the people, who pay now above two millions and a half. He was very earnest likewise to have reformed the abuses in the order of St. Benedict and others. He got good preachers about him, and was a constant hearer of them. He would fain have ordered it so that a bishop should have enjoyed but one bishopric, a cardinal two, and that all should have been obliged to be resident upon their benefices; but he would have found it a difficult task to have persuaded the clergy to it. He gave alms liberally to the poor not many days before his death, as I was since informed by his confessor the Bishop of Angers[504], who is a very eminent prelate. He had erected also a place for public audience[505], where he heard and dispatched causes, especially for the benefit of the poor; in which place I saw him for two hours together, not above a week before he died; after which time I never saw him again. Matters of great moment were not dispatched at these audiences, but he had set up that court to keep people in awe, and especially his officers, some of whom he suspended for bribery and corruption.
The king being in such great glory in relation to this world, and in such a good mind as to God, on the 7th of April, 1498, being the eve of Palm Sunday, took his queen (Anne of Bretagne) by the hand, and led her out of her chamber to a place where she had never been before, to see them play at tennis in the castle-ditch. They entered together into a gallery called the Haquelebac Gallery, upon the account of its having been formerly guarded by one Haquelebac. It was the nastiest place about the castle, broken down at the entrance, and everybody committed a nuisance in it that would. The king was not a tall man, yet he knocked his head as he went in. He spent some time in looking upon the players, and talked freely with everybody. I was not there myself (for I had gone to my country-house about a week before) but his confessor the Bishop of Angers, and the gentlemen of his bed-chamber, who were then about him, told me what I write. The last expression he used whilst he was in health was, that he hoped never to commit a mortal sin again, nor a venial sin if he could help it; and with those words in his mouth he fell down backwards, and lost his speech. It was about two in in the afternoon when he fell, and he lay motionless till eleven o’clock at night. Thrice he recovered his speech, but he quickly lost it again, as his confessor told me, who had confessed him twice that week, once of course, and a second time upon occasion of his touching for the king’s evil. Every one went into the gallery that pleased, where the king was laid upon a coarse bed; and he never left it till he died, which was nine hours after. The confessor told me that every time he recovered his speech he called out upon God, the glorious Virgin Mary, St. Claude, and St. Blaise, to assist him. And thus died that great and powerful monarch in a sordid and filthy place, though he had so many magnificent palaces of his own, and was building another more stately than any of them, yet he died in this poor chamber. How plain, then, and natural is it, from these two examples, for us to acknowledge the power and omnipotence of God, and that our life is but a span and a trifle, though we are so greedy and ambitious after the riches of this world; and that princes no more than peasants are able to resist the Almighty.
Ch. XXVI.—How holy Friar Jerome was burned at Florence by the Malice and Solicitation of the Pope, and several Venetians and Florentines who were his Enemies.—1498.
In my relation of the affairs of Italy[506], I have mentioned a Jacobite friar who lived at Florence for the space of fifteen years, in great reputation for the sanctity of his life, and whom I saw and conversed with in the year 1495. His name was Jerome, and he had foretold several things which afterwards came to pass. He had always affirmed that the king would make a voyage into Italy, declaring it publicly in his sermons, and asserting he had both that and other things by revelation from God, by whom he pronounced our king to have been chosen to reform the Church by the sword, and chastise the insolence of tyrants. But his pretending to revelation created him many enemies, made him incur the displeasure of the Pope, and gained him ill-will from several in Florence. His life and discourses (as far as could be discovered) were the severest and most holy in the world, for he was declaiming perpetually against sin, and making many proselytes in that city.
In the same year 1498, and within four or five days after the death of King Charles VIII., died Friar Jerome also[507]; which I mention the rather, because he had always publicly asserted that the king should return again into Italy, to accomplish the commission which God had given him for the reforming of the Church by the sword, and the expulsion of tyrants out of Italy; and that in case the king refused or neglected it, God would punish him severely; all which former sermons and those which he preached at this time, he caused to be printed, and they are to be purchased at this day. His threats to the king of God’s severe anger if he returned not into Italy, he wrote several times to his majesty a little before his death; and he told me as much at my return from Italy, assuring me that sentence was pronounced in heaven against the king, provided he refused to observe what God had commanded, and did not keep his soldiers from plundering.
About the time of the king’s death there were great divisions among the Florentines. Some expected the king’s return, and very earnestly desired it, upon confidence in Friar Jerome’s assurance; and in that confidence they exhausted and ruined themselves in their expenses to promote the recovery of Pisa and the rest of the towns which they had delivered to the king; but Pisa remained in possession of the Venetians. Some of the citizens were for siding with the league and deserting our king; and these alleged that all was but folly and delusion, and that Friar Jerome was a heretic and a hypocrite, and that he ought to be put into a sack and thrown into the river; but he had friends in the town who protected him against that fate. The Pope and the Duke of Milan wrote often against him, assuring the Florentines that Pisa and the rest of their towns should be restored, if they would abandon our king and punish Friar Jerome. It accidentally happened, that at the time of the king’s death the Signory consisted chiefly of Friar Jerome’s enemies (for the Signory in that city is changed every two months), who suborned a Cordelier[508] to quarrel with him, and to proclaim him a heretic and an abuser of the people, in pretending to revelation, and to declare publicly that he had no such gift; and, to prove what he said, he challenged him to the ordeal of fire before the Signory. Friar Jerome had more wit than to accept this challenge; but one of his brethren[509] offered to do it for him, and another of the Cordeliers[510] volunteered to do as much on the other side; so that a day[511] was appointed when they were to come to their trial, and both of them presented themselves to enter the fire accompanied by all the friars of their orders. The Jacobite brought the Host in his hand, which the Signory and Cordeliers insisted he should lay by; but the Jacobite, being obstinate to the contrary, and resolved not to part with it, they returned all to their convents. Whereupon the people, encouraged by Friar Jerome’s enemies, and authorised by the Signory, went to his convent and fetched him and two more of his brethren[512] out, and tortured them most cruelly, killing the chief man in the city (called Francisco Vallori[513]), only for being his friend. The Pope sent them power and commission to make out process against him, and at last he and his two brethren were burnt.[514] The charge against him consisted only of two articles; that he created disorder in the city, and that he was an impostor; and that what he pretended to know by revelation he was told by his friends in the council. For my own part I will neither condemn nor excuse him, nor will I say they did ill or well in putting him to death; but I am sure he foretold several things which afterwards came to pass, and which all his friends in Florence could never have suggested. And as to our master and the evils with which he threatened him, they happened exactly as you have heard, first the death of the Dauphin, and then his own death; predictions of which I have seen in letters under his own hand to the king.
Ch. XXVII.—Of the Obsequies and Funeral of King Charles VIII., and the Coronation of his Successor Louis XII.; with the Genealogies of the Kings of France to King Louis XII.—1498.
The distemper of which the king died was an apoplexy, or a catarrh, which the physicians hoped would have fallen down into one of his arms, and, though it might have taken away the use of that member, they were in no fear of his death. His majesty had four physicians about him, but his greatest confidence was in him that had the least knowledge and experience in physic; and by his directions he was so entirely governed, that the other three durst not give their judgments, though they saw the indications of death, and would gladly have ordered him a purge three or four days before. All people addressed themselves to the Duke of Orleans immediately, as next heir to the crown; but the gentlemen of King Charles’s bed-chamber buried him in great pomp and solemnity. As soon as he was dead, service was begun for his soul, which continued day and night; for when the Canons had done the Cordeliers began; and when they had ended, the Bons-hommes or Minims took it up, for they were an order of his own foundation. He lay eight days at Amboise, part of the time in a chamber very richly hung, and part in the church. In short, he lay in great state, and the whole solemnity was more costly than the funeral of any of his predecessors had been. The gentlemen of his bed-chamber, all that had waited on his person, and all the officers of his court, never stirred from his corpse, but watched it constantly; and the service continued till his body was interred, which was about a month after[515]; and, as I have been told by some of the officers of his exchequer, this ceremony cost forty-five thousand francs. I came to Amboise two days after his death, went to pay my devotions upon his bier, and stayed there five or six hours. To speak impartially, I never saw so solemn a mourning for any prince, nor one that continued so long; and no wonder, for he had been more bountiful to his favourites, to the gentlemen of his bed-chamber, and to ten or twelve gentlemen of his privy-chamber, had treated them better, and given them greater estates than any king had ever done before; and indeed he gave them too much. Besides, he was the most affable and sweetest natured prince in the world. I verily believe he never said a word to any man that could in reason displease him; so that he could never have died in a better hour to make himself memorable in history, and lamented by all who had served him. I do really think I was the only person in the whole world to whom he was unkind; but, being sensible that he was in his youth, and my treatment not at all his own doing, I could not resent it.
Having lain one night at Amboise, I went and paid my respects to the new king, with whom I had been formerly as intimate as any other person about the court, and much of my troubles and losses were incurred for his sake; but now all our former acquaintance and the service I had done him were forgotten. However, he entered upon his government with great wisdom. He altered not any pensions for that year, though they were still to last for six months. He retrenched nothing of his salaries, but declared that every officer in his kingdom should continue in the post in which he found him; which was very honourable and discreet. As soon as all things were made ready, he proceeded to his coronation[516], and I was there among the rest. The peers of France (according to ancient custom) were represented by these following: The Duke of Alençon represented the Duke of Burgundy; the Duke of Bourbon the Duke of Normandy; and the Duke of Lorraine the Duke of Guienne. The first of the Counts was Monsieur de Ravestain, who represented the Count of Flanders. The second was Engilbert of Cleves, who represented the Count of Champagne, and the third was Monsieur de Foix, who represented the Count of Toulouse. The said coronation was at Rheims on the 27th of May, 1498, and Louis XII. was the fourth king who came collaterally to the crown. The two first were Charles Martel, or Pepin his son, and Hugh Capet, both of them mayors of the palace, or governors of their kings, who afterwards turned usurpers, deposed their masters, and took the government upon themselves. The third king was Philip of Valois, and the fourth King Louis, who now reigns. But the two last came by a just and indisputable title to the crown. The first race of the Kings of France is deduced from Meroveus: there had been two kings before this Meroveus, that is to say, Pharamond, (who was the first that was elected King of France; for, before his time they were called Dukes or Kings of Gaul,) and after him one of his sons called Clodion. Pharamond was chosen king in the year 420, and reigned ten years; his son Clodion reigned eighteen, so that Pharamond and his son reigned twenty-eight years. Meroveus, who succeeded, was not Clodion’s son, but his kinsman; so that there seem to have been five interruptions in the royal line. However, as I said before, the genealogy of the Kings of France begins generally at Meroveus, who was made King in the year 448; so that the right line is derived from thence, and runs down to Louis XII., who was crowned one thousand and fifty years after the pedigree of the said kings began. They who would derive it from King Pharamond need only add twenty-eight more, and the number will amount to one thousand and seventy-eight years since there were kings called kings of France. From Meroveus to King Pepin there were three hundred and thirty-three years, during which time the line of Meroveus lasted. From King Pepin to Hugh Capet there were two hundred and thirty-seven years; and during that time the line of King Pepin and his son Charlemagne continued. Hugh Capet’s line lasted three hundred and thirty-nine years, and expired at the accession of Philip de Valois; and the line of the said Philip de Valois became extinguished in Charles VIII., who (as is said before) died in the year 1498, and was the last of that family, which had continued to possess the kingdom one hundred and sixty-nine years, during which time seven kings had succeeded of that line, that is to say, Philip de Valois, King John, King Charles V., King Charles VI., King Charles VII., King Louis XI., and King Charles VIII., who was the last of the right line of Philip de Valois.
END OF THE MEMOIRS OF PHILIP DE COMMINES.
HISTORY OF LOUIS XI. KING OF FRANCE, AND OF THE MEMORABLE OCCURRENCES OF HIS REIGN, FROM THE YEAR 1460 TO 1483; OTHERWISE CALLED THE SCANDALOUS CHRONICLE, WRITTEN BY A CLERK IN THE HOTEL DE VILLE OF PARIS.