LETTER XII.
To-day the King set out from Lyons on his way to Rheims, where he is to be crowned—as he told me himself—on the 13th.
I will not weary your Majesty with a full description of the state of France, but content myself with a sketch.
Ever since the commencement of the civil wars which are distracting the country, there has been a terrible change for the worse. So complete is the alteration, that those who knew France before would not recognise her again. Everywhere are to be seen shattered buildings, fallen churches, and towns in ruins; while the traveller gazes horror-stricken on spots which have but lately been the scenes of murderous deeds and inhuman cruelties. The fields are left untilled: the farmer’s stock and tools have been carried off by the soldier as his booty, he is plundered alike by Frenchman and by foreigner. Commerce is crippled; the towns lately thronged with merchants and customers are now mourning their desolation in the midst of closed shops and silent manufactories. Meanwhile, the inhabitants, ground down by ceaseless exactions, are crying out at the immense sums which are being squandered for nought, or applied to purposes for which they were never intended. They demand a reckoning in tones which breathe a spirit of rebellion. Men of experience, members of the oldest families in France, are in many cases regarded with suspicion, and either not allowed to come to Court, or left to vegetate at home. Besides the two parties into which Frenchmen are divided by their religious differences, there are also feuds and quarrels which affect every grade of society.
In the first place, the feeling against the Italians who are in the French service is very strong; the high promotion they have received and the important duties with which they have been intrusted, arouse the jealousy of men who consider them ignorant of French business, and hold that they have neither merit, services, nor birth to justify their appointment. Birague, as Chancellor, holds one of the highest offices in the kingdom; Comte de Retz[40] is a Maréchal; Strozzi is in command of the infantry of France; Guadagni is Seneschal of Lyons; and in the same way other Italians occupy most important posts, while Frenchmen murmur.
Again, Italians farm nearly all the taxes, and exact their dues so rigidly as to drive the natives, who are unaccustomed to such extortion, to the very verge of rebellion; there will be another Saint Bartholomew[41] if they do not take care, and they will be the victims.
The feuds which separate the leading families of France are more bitter than those described in ancient tragedy; this is the state of feeling which exists between the Houses of Guise, Vendôme and Bourbon, not to mention that of Montmorency, which, through its alliances and connections, has a considerable party of its own.
The Bourbons are the strongest; the Guises have most influence at Court, but this is an advantage which they may lose any day by the death of the King, and then their fall is inevitable.
By his nearest relations the King is feared rather than loved, for, knowing the designs they entertained before the death of his brother (Charles IX.), they have no confidence in his mercy and forgiveness, though he professes to have pardoned them, and think that his vengeance is only deferred for a time. On the other hand, the King must see clearly from the flight of Condé what the feelings of his own family are towards him.
The district in which the rebellion on religious grounds has struck its deepest roots begins at Rochelle and reaches to the Rhone, comprising the whole of Guienne and Languedoc: it includes Saintonge, Poitou, the Limousin, Perigord, Gascony, the country round Narbonne, &c., &c. Nor is this all; across the Rhone, in Dauphiny itself, Montbrun has seized places, as, for instance, Livron, which is now besieged by the Royalists.
In making the statement that the rebels are powerful in Languedoc and Guienne, I must not be understood to say that the principal cities of those provinces do not obey the King; my meaning is that the insurgents occupy posts of vantage throughout the country, which enable them to render both life and property insecure; there is no peace or quiet for those who are loyal to the King. To drive them from their fortresses would be a most difficult task, for they have formidable positions and strong fortifications, garrisoned by veteran soldiers, who have made up their minds to die rather than trust the King’s word. Such, undoubtedly, is their determination, for though peace, which is the only cure for these ills, has lately been freely mentioned, and certain men were at Avignon from Condé and his party, still, up to the present moment, no arrangement has been concluded. True, the King is ready to pledge his word that, if his towns are restored to him, no one shall be troubled on account of his religion; but the memory of Saint Bartholomew[42] is a fatal obstacle: they will place no confidence in his promise, and believe that it is only a stratagem to destroy the survivors of that night.
Such acts of treachery, it would seem, never answer in the long run, whatever the advantage at the time may be!
Some people have a notion that the idea of peace is not seriously entertained, but is simply a manœuvre to break up the confederacy by making overtures to some of its members.
Ambassadors, it is true, have been sent lately to Rochelle, but in the meantime both parties are busy fighting: the King is pressing on the sieges of Livron and Lusignan, while the rebels are using every means in their power to harass and perplex him. After the King’s departure from Avignon, they took possession of Aigues-Mortes,[43] where they found a store of cannon, which will be of great service to them. One fort, however, still remains in the hands of the Royalists, and the Duc de Uzes, who commands for the King, does not despair of retaking the town under cover of its fire.
It is not that I should regard the situation as hopeless, if there were a prospect of matters taking a turn for the better, but, bad as is the present state of things, it is nothing compared to what we may expect any day to see.
Having given my ideas as to the state of the country, I will now give my opinion of the King. Of his character your Majesty has had opportunities of judging; he is naturally well disposed, and in the hands of good advisers and councillors of sound judgment might turn out a pattern sovereign. But his companions are wild young men, the tone of French society is licentious, and he listens to selfish intriguers who are seeking their own advantage; under such circumstances, who can say that he will not go astray? Both he and his brother (Alençon) are of a weakly constitution and not likely to be long-lived.
The ambassadors who came from Poland have been ordered to remain at Lyons, and there await the King’s arrival; it is supposed that his Majesty will not care much for the despatches which they bring, as they are couched in rough, not to say threatening, language. It seems that the King has thoughts of keeping Poland, for, though he is still a bachelor, he has announced his intention of bestowing it on one of his future children, and with this view is negotiating for an alliance with the King of Sweden’s daughter; for my own part, however, I am inclined to suspect that this is a mere feint. First among the aspirants to the Crown of Poland stands the Duke of Ferrara, but in France the idea is that the Transylvanian[44] is the candidate most popular with the Poles. The King is dissatisfied with the Duke of Savoy’s conduct with regard to Damville, and it is supposed that, if what is past could be recalled, he would not be so liberal with his towns.[45]
It seems that the siege of Livron will be a long business; for, though the wall has been battered with cannon, and there is as wide a breach as the besiegers could desire for them to mount to the attack, two assaults have already been repulsed with heavy loss. There are several reasons to account for these failures: in the first place, the attacking column has to climb up hill through the rubbish and débris, which crumble away under their feet; secondly, fresh intrenchments have been made within the circuit of the walls, and the besieged are so confident of holding the town that they may almost be said to laugh at the efforts of their enemies.[46] I saw this with my own eyes when I passed Livron on my way back from Avignon. Thirdly, when they come to close quarters, not only do they meet with a most stubborn resistance from the men, but many of them are also wounded by the women, who rain stones upon them from the roofs and ramparts. I saw six ensigns on the walls of the town, whence it is assumed that there are 400 soldiers in the garrison; they have muskets, but no cannon. His son-in-law, who was in command of the town, having been killed by a cannon-ball, Montbrun, the night before I arrived, sent four more gentlemen into the place with a party of soldiers; it is said that they passed through the outposts of the German horse commanded by Count Nogarola.
Your Majesty no doubt received intelligence long ago of the death of the Cardinal of Lorraine.[47] He died of fever, after an illness of eighteen days. The attack was brought on, people think, by his walking in a procession of Flagellants, at night. The Queen Mother has been poorly from the same cause, and her daughter (Marguerite), wife of Vendôme (Henry of Navarre), had a troublesome cold, which lasted several days.
There are four societies of Flagellants at Avignon; the Cardinal enrolled himself in one of them, and advised the King to do the same; his Majesty’s example was followed by the whole of the nobility. On one occasion, when they were walking in procession with these societies at night, which is the usual time for such ceremonies, there was a very cold wind, and this is supposed to have been the cause of the Cardinal’s illness and death, for two or three days afterwards he fell sick.
He was a great man, and took a prominent part in the government of the country. In him we have lost a profound scholar, an eloquent speaker, an experienced statesman. He was ever anxious to advance the interests of his party and his family, and I am by no means sure that the State did not sometimes suffer in consequence. The King visited him during his illness, and would have gone to him oftener if he had not been afraid of infection. He has felt his death deeply. When the body was being removed from Avignon, on its way to Rheims, the King and four Cardinals accompanied it to the gates of the city. They were attended by all the nobles of the Court, with the King’s brother and the King of Navarre (as they style him here) at their head. These last, I imagine, were by no means sorry to do this honour, not to the Cardinal, but to his corpse! He died at night, and the Queen Mother was so upset by his death that the next day she fancied she saw him bidding her farewell, and could hear him saying ‘Adieu, madame; adieu, madame.’ She tried to point him out to those who were with her.[48]
Whilst I was writing, news came that Lusignan had surrendered to Montpensier. The garrison are to be allowed to retire to Bouteville and Pons with their arms and property. I hear also that the siege of Livron has been raised; the attacking force is broken up; the men being quartered in the neighbouring villages, from which they are to watch the town and see that no provisions are brought in. They will have a hard task, methinks, to keep up so strict a blockade, as not to be sometimes given the slip.
Lyons, January 24, 1575.