Chapter XVI: Book THE EIGHTH (5)

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.

EDITOR’S PREFACE.

The Scandalous Chronicle forms so valuable a supplement to the Memoirs of Commines, that I have determined to follow the example of previous editors, and insert it in this place. In reliance on the opinion of Petitot, I have ascribed its authorship to Jean de Troyes.

The literary history of this work is somewhat singular. The first known edition was published under the following title,—_The Chronicle of the very Christian and very victorious Louis of Valois (whom God absolve!), eleventh of the name; with various other adventures which occurred in the kingdom of France, as well as in neighbouring countries, from the year 1460 to the year 1483 inclusive_. It is a small folio volume, printed in Gothic characters, and was probably published about the end of the fifteenth century, though the title-page bears no date, and mentions neither the author’s nor the printer’s name. The three following editions are equally silent as to the authorship of the work; but the fifth edition, published in 1529, ascribes it to a clerk in the Hotel de Ville of Paris. In 1583, Gilles Corrozet, in his _Trésor des Histoires de France_, quotes it as “The Chronicle of King Louis XI. otherwise called the Scandalous Chronicle, by Jean de Troyes;” and in the following year, La Croix du Maine, in his _Bibliothèque Française_, makes this statement: “Jean de Troyes was a French historian of the time of Louis XI., king of France; he wrote a chronicle of the said king, which is vulgarly called the Scandalous Chronicle, because it makes mention of everything done by the said king, and relates matters which are not greatly to his advantage, but rather to his dishonour and scandal.”

Such is the authority for the name and authorship of the work; and though slight, it has been deemed sufficient by most bibliographers, notwithstanding the controversies raised by some eminent writers on the subject. The Chronicle was first appended to the Memoirs of Commines, in Jean Godefroy’s edition, published at Brussels in 1713. It will also be found in Lenglet du Fresnoy’s edition, published in 1747.

The present translation is from the text in Petitot’s great collection of memoirs relating to the history of France.

But although it has been agreed to attribute this Chronicle to Jean de Troyes, no researches have succeeded in discovering any particulars in relation to the author himself. It has not even been positively established whether he can be identified with the clerk in the Hotel de Ville of Paris, mentioned on the title-page of some of the earlier editions. In fact, all is speculation regarding him: but it is conjectured reasonably enough by Grosley that he was a son of a certain Jean de Troyes mentioned by Juvenal des Ursins as having distinguished himself in the disturbances at Paris during the reign of Charles VI., and who was appointed Grand Master of the Artillery by Charles VII., in reward for his services.

It is hard to understand why this should have been called the Scandalous Chronicle; unless, as Sorel suggests, the name was given to it by some bookseller in order to pique the curiosity of the public. Far from seeking to defame Louis XI., the author omits all mention of a vast number of the actions most discreditable to his memory; and in regard to his gallantries, he is almost as silent as Commines. The chief characteristic of the work is its straightforward simplicity: it is full of curious remarks on passing events, such as might be made by a superficial observer, who took no pains to penetrate into the causes and consequences of the occurrences he describes. It is this quality which renders the perusal of the memoirs of Jean de Troyes most interesting, after reading those of Commines. The latter unmasks the policy of his sovereign, reveals all his intrigues, and indicates the secret springs of his conduct; the former attempts nothing of the kind, but merely portrays events in the light in which Louis XI. desired that they should be seen by his subjects. Take, for instance, the narrative of the king’s visit to Peronne, in 1468. No one would suppose, from the account given by Jean de Troyes, that Louis, a dupe to his own artifices, had imprudently placed himself in the power of the Duke of Burgundy, and been detained a prisoner by him; the treaties concluded in the town appear to have been signed freely by the French monarch, who thereupon voluntarily consented to join Duke Charles in his expedition against the Liegeois. After reading the true history of the whole affair in Commines, it is curious to notice the colour which the king gave to it in the eyes of his subjects, in order to keep them in ignorance of the dangers he had incurred by his own fault, and of the excess of humiliation to which he had been subjected by his less wily rival.

In many other respects, this Chronicle is no less valuable and instructive. It is not only remarkable for many curious traits characteristic of its individual author; but it contains interesting details of the manners and customs, of the habits and domestic life, of the Parisians, and of the view they took of contemporary events. Indeed, no existing work supplies us with a better picture of Paris as it was towards the end of the fifteenth century.

As Jean de Troyes for the most part relates only what he heard, and was seldom an eyewitness of the occurrences which he chronicles, there are many errors in his memoirs; but these may easily be rectified by reference to the parallel passages in Commines, where they have not been expressly corrected in the notes.

A. R. SCOBLE.

The Scandalous Chronicle.

THE CHRONICLES OF THE VERY CHRISTIAN AND VERY VICTORIOUS LOUIS OF VALOIS, LATE KING OF FRANCE (WHOM GOD ABSOLVE), WITH VARIOUS OTHER ADVENTURES WHICH OCCURRED BOTH IN THE REALM OF FRANCE AND IN NEIGHBOURING COUNTRIES, FROM THE YEAR 1460 UNTIL 1483, INCLUSIVELY.

To the honour and praise of God, our sweet Saviour and Redeemer, and the blessed glorious Virgin Mary, without whose assistance no good works can be performed. Knowing that several kings, princes, counts, barons, prelates, noblemen, ecclesiastics, and abundance of the common people, are often pleased and delighted in hearing and reading the surprising histories of wonderful things that have happened in divers places both of this and other Christian states and kingdoms, I have applied myself with abundance of pleasure, from the 35th year of my age, instead of spending my time in sloth and idleness, to writing a history of several remarkable accidents and adventures that happened in France, and in other neighbouring kingdoms, as far as my memory would permit me; but especially from the year 1460, in the reign of Charles VII., to the death of Louis XI., his son, who died on the 30th of August, in the year 1483. However, I neither design nor expect that this historical essay of mine should be called a Chronicle, being wholly unfit for so bold an undertaking; neither indeed was I ever employed or permitted to write one; but what I have here ventured to record, is purely by way of amusement to please and divert those who will give themselves the trouble of reading it or hearing it read; whom I also humbly entreat to excuse, and supply my ignorance, by correcting and altering whatever they find amiss; for abundance of these remarkable accidents have happened after so very different and so strange a manner, that it would have been a very difficult task, either for me or any other writer, to have given an exact and particular account of every thing that happened during so long a period of time.

1460.

And first of all, then, I must speak concerning the goodness and fertility of the earth in the year 1460, which was so prodigiously fruitful throughout the whole kingdom of France, and bore such plenteous crops of corn, that at the very dearest time a quarter of wheat was sold for only twenty-four Parisian sols; but there was a great scarcity of fruit, and as for the vines, there was but little wine, especially in the Isle of France, so that they had scarce an hogshead to every acre of ground, but the wine was extraordinarily good, and that which grew in the fat vineyards round Paris was sold very dear, and bore the price of ten or eleven crowns a hogshead.

About that time several poor indigent wretches that were guilty of thieving, sacrilege, house-breaking, and other enormous crimes, were made an example of, and severely punished at Paris; amongst whom some were only whipped at the cart’s tail, and afterwards pardoned, as being their first offence; and others, who were old offenders, and had been often guilty of crimes of the like nature, were condemned to be hanged, and executed accordingly.

Much about that time also a certain woman, named Perrette Mauger, was condemned to be burnt alive for having committed several robberies, and for harbouring and concealing several notorious thieves and house-breakers, who had committed divers robberies in and about Paris; as also for having sold and disposed of the said goods that were stolen by these thieves, and sharing with them the money that arose from the sale thereof: for which crimes, and several others besides, which she confessed at last, she was condemned by M. Robert Destouteville, mayor of Paris, to be burnt alive at the stake before the gallows, and all her goods and chattels to be forfeited to the king. From which sentence she formally appealed to the court of parliament, upon the account of which appeal her execution was deferred for some time; but after the parliament had examined into her trial, they confirmed the above-mentioned sentence, and having declared that the said Perrette Mauger had no manner of grounds for her appeal, ordered it immediately to be executed; upon which she declared herself to be with child, which deferred the execution a little longer; and presently a jury of midwives and matrons was impannelled, and ordered to search her, who, upon a strict examination, reported to the judges that she was not breeding, upon which report she was immediately ordered to be burnt before the gallows by Henry Cousin, hangman of Paris.

_Strange Adventures that happened in England in the same Year, 1460._

In this year the Pope sent a legate into England, who preached to the people of that country, but especially in London, the chief city of that kingdom; where he made several remonstrances to the inhabitants of that and the adjacent parts, much to the prejudice, and contrary to the interest of, Henry VI., king of England; which remonstrances the Cardinal of York, who accompanied the legate, explained in their own language, with a long exposition on the same. Upon which the common people, who were wavering and fickle enough at the best, began to rise up in rebellion against King Henry, and his queen, daughter of René, King of Sicily and Jerusalem, and their son the Prince of Wales. The common people chose the Earl of Warwick for their head, who was governor of Calais, in the room of Richard, Duke of York, who pretended to be king, and boldly maintained the kingdom of England belonged to him, as being the next heir of the family of King Richard II. A little time afterwards the Duke of York, who had assembled a great number of the populace in arms, took the field, and marched directly to a park where Henry VI. was attended by several dukes, princes, and other lords, all in arms also. There were eight avenues that led to this park, and these were guarded by eight barons of the kingdom, all of them traitors and rebels to King Henry; who, as soon as they were informed of the Duke of York’s arrival, immediately gave him admittance into the park, with the Earl of Warwick, and several others, who went directly to the place where the King was, whom without any farther ceremony[517] they seized upon. Immediately after this action, they slew several princes and great lords of the blood royal that were with him. When the Earl of Warwick had so done, he took King Henry and brought him directly to London, carrying the naked sword before him, as if he had been his constable; and, upon his arrival at London, he led him straight to the Tower, in which there were four barons of the kingdom of King Henry’s party, that were kept prisoners there; to whom King Henry some time after, and the Earl of Warwick, gave very fair words, and released them out of the Tower, after they had solemnly promised them that their persons should be protected from all manner of danger whatsoever, and in confidence of these fair promises they consented to go out of the Tower. But as they were leading these four barons after King Henry and the Earl of Warwick, there happened to be an insurrection of the mob, and some of them came and killed one of the barons, and gave him several blows and contusions; and the next day, notwithstanding all the fine promises that were made them, the three other barons were executed on Tower-hill.

At the same time there arose a great quarrel between the king’s officers belonging to the Court of Aids, and one of the beadles of the University of Paris, for some affront the said beadle had given to two counsellors of the same court; for which misdemeanor the said beadle was put into the common gaol of Paris; which method of proceeding the whole University highly resented, and were so extremely displeased with it, that, till the affair was accommodated, and the beadle restored to his liberty, they refused either to preach, pray, or read to the people; but, upon his enlargement, they were well satisfied, and performed their usual duty.

About this time a certain person, called Anthony the Bastard of Burgundy, came into Paris in a disguise, and staid there only one day and a night; and when the inhabitants of the city were informed of his coming in that manner, several officers and men of note could not imagine what should be the meaning of it, and immediately despatched certain persons to carry the news of it to the king, who spoke very favourably of the citizens, and declared they were not in the least privy to his coming in that clandestine way. Upon which the king in all haste sent the Marshal de Loheac, and M. John Bureau, Treasurer of France, to inquire into the truth of the relation that was brought him, and to take all the care imaginable to prevent whatever designs this emissary of the house of Burgundy might have formed in the city. At the same time also the citizens of Paris, (to free themselves from all manner of suspicion of their consenting to his coming _incognito_,) deputed some of the chief of their citizens, among whom were M. John de Lolive, Doctor of Divinity, and the Chancellors of the Church of Paris, Nicholas de Louviers, M. John Clerebourg, Master of the Mint; M. John Lullier, Town Clerk; James Rebours, Attorney; John Volant, Merchant, and several others, to represent the matter fairly to the king. His majesty received them very graciously; and, after they had ended their speech, which was made to clear their innocence, he was extremely well satisfied with them, and having given them a very mild and gracious answer, they returned to Paris with great joy and gladness of heart.

At that time M. Robert Destouteville, who was mayor of Paris, was committed prisoner to the Bastille, and afterwards to the Louvre, by the command of the Marshal de Loheac and M. John Bureau; for some injustice and abuses he had committed in the exercise of his office, though it was never fairly proved upon him. About that time also several rude and uncivil actions were committed by M. John Advin, counsellor of the parliament of Paris, in the house of the said Destouteville, such as searching of boxes, trunks, and other places for letters; not to mention the several incivilities he offered to the Lady Ambroise de Lore, his wife, who was a woman of great virtue, honour, and wisdom.

In this year the rivers Seine and Marne were swollen so prodigiously, that in one night’s time the Marne rose above six feet high about St. Maur des-Fossez, and did a great deal of damage in several places; but among the rest, the river came up so high in a village called Claye, in which there was a palace belonging to the Bishop of Meaux, that it washed away all the brick-work of the front of it, where there were two stately towers newly erected, in which there were fine and large apartments richly furnished and adorned with tapestry, pictures, &c., but the river swept all away.

About that time also it happened, that the body of the church of Fecamp in Normandy was burnt down to the ground by a fiery exhalation that came from the sea towards the Marches of Cornwall; and caught hold of the steeple of the said abbey which was quite consumed, and all the bells melted down, to the great loss and detriment of the abbot and his whole fraternity.

At the same time there was a great noise and discourse all over the kingdom of France, and other places, of a young girl of about eighteen years of age, who lived in the city of Mans, and played several ridiculous pranks and follies; such as foaming at the mouth, leaping into the air, screaming out aloud, putting her body into a thousand convulsive motions, and pretending to be tormented by the devil; by which antic tricks, and several others too tedious to mention here, she imposed upon and cheated abundance of people that came to see her. But at last she was discovered to be an idle hussy, and that she played all her devilish pranks by the instigation and contrivance of some of the officers belonging to the Bishop of Mans, who maintained her for that purpose; and had so far brought her to their beck, that she would do anything they bid her, and they had trained her up from her infancy to play these pranks.

About the same time it happened in England, some time after the Earl of Warwick’s seizing upon the person of King Henry, that the Duke of Somerset the king’s cousin, in conjunction with several young noblemen, relations and heirs to those who were slain at the taking of King Henry, having got together a considerable body of men, took the field, and marched directly against the Duke of York, found him encamped in the plains of St. Albans[518], where they gave him battle, and cut him and his whole army to pieces. In this battle the Duke of York was slain himself, and when his body was found they cut off his head, and by way of derision, because he pretended to the crown of England, they fixed it upon the point of a lance, and put a crown of straw in the form of a royal crown upon it. With him there fell in the battle six and twenty barons, knights, esquires, and persons of note in the kingdom; besides a great number of common soldiers, amounting in all to above eight or nine thousand men.

And on Wednesday the third of February in the same year 1460, were read and published at Rouen, and in several other places in the duchy of Normandy, in the public market-places by sound of trumpet, the king’s letters patent; by which he declared it was his royal will and pleasure that the whole country of Normandy, together with its seaports, should be free and open to all English men and women, of what rank or condition soever; and in what habit soever they shall think fit to wear, (provided they were of King Henry’s party,) and without having any passport, to have free liberty of trade and commerce throughout his whole kingdom.

1461.

In the year 1461, in the month of July, it happened that King Charles VII. fell sick at the castle of Meun upon the Yevre, of a distemper that was incurable, and of which he died on Wednesday the 22nd of July, between one and two o’clock, in the afternoon, much lamented by the whole kingdom; as being a very wise and valiant prince, and leaving his kingdom in a very peaceful and flourishing condition.

Immediately after the death of the king was publicly known, the greatest part of the officers of Paris, and several others of the kingdom, went to pay their respects to the Dauphin, who resided at the Duke of Burgundy’s court at Hainault; and who by the decease of his father came to the crown of France. The occasion of their waiting on him there, was, to know his royal will and pleasure; and whether they should be continued in the same posts and employments they enjoyed under his father: At which place after his death he made a promotion of several officers in the chamber of accounts or exchequer, at Paris: Amongst the rest, he made M. Peter l’Orfevre Lord of Ermenonville and Nicholas de Louviers counsellors of the same exchequer, and M. John Baillet master of the requests and reporter of the court of chancery: He also confirmed M. Simon Charles, who was carried in a litter into Hainault, in the place he was possessed of in the exchequer: and the rest of the officers that came thither to beg the favour of being continued in their respective posts and employments, were ordered back to Paris to wait for the king’s coming thither.

And upon the 24th of July, 1461, M. Etienne Chevalier, who was treasurer or chief director of the finances in the reign of the late King Charles, and whom he appointed to be one of the executors of his last will and testament, and also M. Dreux Budé, the grand audiencier[519] of France, went from Paris to see the king’s corpse that lay in state at Meun; but the Lord d’Aigreville, captain of Montargis, at the earnest solicitation of a certain gentleman named Vuaste de Morpedon, caused them both to be seized at Montargis; where they remained prisoners for some time, till the king sent orders for their release, and continued them both in their respective employments of treasurer and audiencier.

But it was very observable, that on the 23rd of July, in 1461, which was the next day after the king’s death, a large blazing star was seen in the sky about seven o’clock at night, which cast such a glaring and resplendent light through the air, that all Paris seemed to be in a flame; but Heaven in its mercy has been still pleased to preserve that good city.

On Thursday the 6th of August, 1461, the body of the late King Charles VII. was brought from Meun with great solemnity, to the Church of Notre-Dame in the Fields, without the gates of Paris; and the next day the clergy, nobility, officers, citizens, and abundance of the populace repaired thither, and conducted it from thence to Paris, with a great deal of pomp, ceremony, and respect, as is usual upon such occasions. The funeral procession was thus regulated. Before the corpse were borne two hundred wax-candles of four pounds each, adorned and painted with the arms of France, and carried by two hundred inferior persons dressed in long mourning robes and black caps. The body was borne in a litter by the salt-porters of Paris, and it was lined and covered with a rich cloth of gold, valued at one thousand two hundred crowns of gold; and upon the top of it was placed the effigies of the late king Charles dressed in his royal robes, with a crown on his head, holding in one hand a sceptre, and in the other a regal truncheon. And in this state it was carried to the great Church of Notre-Dame in Paris; all the bellmen of the city clothed also in black, and bearing on each side of their gowns the arms of France, marching before it; and after them came those that bore the candles, adorned and painted with the same arms, before the litter. After the litter came the Duke of Orleans and the Count d’Angouleme as chief mourners, accompanied by the Counts d’Eu and Dunois; M. John Jouvenelle des Ursins, knight and chancellor of France, and the master of the horse; all clothed in deep mourning, and mounted on horseback. Next to them marched all the officers of the household to the late king, on foot, by two and two, dressed in deep mourning also; and close to the litter rode six pages in black upon six fine horses covered all over with black velvet, which was a very dismal and melancholy sight to behold. And there was such an universal concern and lamentation for his death, that scarce a dry eye was left in the whole city; nay, it is reported, that one of his pages took his master’s death so to heart, that for four whole days together he neither ate nor drank anything. The next day, which was the 9th of August, his body was removed from the Church of Notre-Dame, in Paris, about three in the afternoon, and carried with the above-mentioned pomp and ceremony to St. Denis, where it was deposited, and now lies.

Towards the end of this month our most gracious sovereign Louis XI., then only dauphin and eldest son of Charles VII. lately deceased, was crowned King of France at Rheims by the Archbishop Jouvenal, where he was attended by the greatest part of the nobility of his kingdom.