LETTER XX.
The King’s inordinate devotion to religious observances is the subject of general remark; some declare that he will end by changing his crown for a cowl. The Queen Mother, they say, disgusted with the way he neglects his duties as Sovereign, roundly rebuked one Edmund,[158] a Jesuit, who is the King’s chief adviser, for having well nigh turned her son from a king into a monk, to the great detriment of the realm.
Meanwhile serious disturbances are taking place in Aquitaine and Languedoc. In consequence of these movements the King has despatched Monsieur du Ferrier, whom he employed for a long time as his ambassador at Venice, to the King of Navarre. He is an old man and reputed wise.
The Queen Mother would have rushed to meet Alençon at Calais, if he had not written to stop her, warning her that a visit from her would wake the suspicions of the States of the Netherlands, and so damage his prospects. This is the excuse he gives, but most people think his letter was written to suit the views of the gentlemen responsible for the catastrophe at Antwerp, who are afraid of meeting with hard language and reproaches from the Queen, and haply also of being dismissed from their places.
Don Antonio was here the other day with the Queen, having run away from Dieppe and Rouen on account of the plague. He has now left for a village in the neighbourhood called Ruel, where he is living in a pleasant house lent him by Alençon. His household consists of some sixty people, who consume daily a quarter of an ox, two sheep, one calf, and 150 loaves.
It is now quite certain that Orange openly assumes the position of Count of Holland. Flushing,[159] a city of Zealand, he bought with his own money; so that he commands the communications of those provinces with the sea. Thus amid the downfall and ruin of others Orange has secured a success.
The King is preparing for a journey to Mézières, with the intention of going on to a château called Foullenbraye, where he will stay to drink the Spa waters for the benefit of his health. During his absence the government is placed in the hands of the Queen Mother and the Privy Council. It is thought he will be away the whole summer. His days, I fear, are numbered.
After several feints, by which he kept every one in suspense as to where he would next strike, Parma has settled down to the siege of Cambrai. It will be a tedious affair, and success is by no means certain, still the capture of the town would go far towards deciding the struggle. He is said, moreover, to have recovered the town of Diest. Brussels, too, seems inclined to go over.
People are again beginning to be afraid of the plague. There are serious signs of its presence in Paris, and also in several other French towns.
June 25, 1583.
[LETTER XXI.]
The Queen Mother has been with the King. After her interview she flew off to Boulogne-sur-Mer to meet Alençon, with Marshal de Retz in attendance on her. Alençon himself is levying fresh soldiers with the purpose, I suppose, of sending them to the relief of Cambrai.
The States and Biron have received a severe check at Steenbergen,[160] losing a great many men. Biron was wounded, and had difficulty in protecting himself behind the walls of Steenbergen.
The Governor of Namur has been sent by Parma to the King. A messenger also came from Casimir to ask a free passage through France; he is sending him to the Queen of England about the Cologne business. The Pope, through his nuncio, is urging the King to accept the decrees of the Council of Trent, and to publish them throughout the kingdom. I do not think his representations will have much effect, not because the King is a supporter of the privileges of the Gallican Church, but because there is a suspicion that the real object is the introduction of the Inquisition into France. Fresh disturbances would be the certain consequence of so unpopular a measure.
For these reasons people say the King, though personally disposed to accede to the demands of the Pope, will not grant them, being determined, as far as in him lies, to avoid all risk of rebellion and civil war.
The King was desirous of placing the Duke of Epernon in command of Metz, but the present governor is an obstacle. He refuses to transfer his command to any one until he shall have received the reward due to him for long service in the army and years of honest work. In my opinion the King has another reason for prolonging his stay in those parts. Cologne is not far distant, and he may be thinking of making his own advantage out of the disturbances.
Then, after conducting his wife to Bourbon-les-Bains, he will make a détour to Lyons, not returning to Paris till the end of the summer.
The Duke of Joyeuse is expected back. He crossed the mountains into Italy with a brilliant train on a pilgrimage to the shrine of the Holy Virgin of Loreto, in fulfilment of a vow he had undertaken when his wife was ill.
On his way he visited Rome to do reverence to the Pope, and possibly also to give him a private message[161] from the King.
The men of Antwerp have lost a great deal of their old confidence and love for Orange, who seems only to care for making his kingdom of Holland secure, and does not pay sufficient attention to the safety of the other provinces. From Brussels also there is news of some disturbance, touching which I am expecting a report from a trusty correspondent.
Meanwhile I pray God to grant good health to your Imperial Majesty, whose most humble servant I remain.
July 3, 1583.
[LETTER XXII.]
As the Queen Mother was hastening through Picardy to Boulogne, Alençon met her at La Fère. He did [186]not leave Dunkirk an hour too soon. No sooner had he gone than Parma’s army sat down before it, and the siege was so skilfully conducted that the garrison were compelled to surrender;[162] they were, however, able to obtain honourable terms. With Dunkirk Alençon has lost all footing in the Netherlands except Cambrai, and even that is hard pressed and in great want of provisions, by reason of the garrisons and outposts which encompass it on every side. However, Alençon, with a relieving army, is not far off, and stores of wine and corn, collected in Picardy, have been laid up at St. Quentin to supply the famished town. As to what the end of it will be, no one knows.
The ambassadors, who were expected from Antwerp for the ratification of the terms of reconciliation, did not arrive, in consequence of which Alençon returned to France in high dudgeon with the States of the Netherlands. Biron is said to be at Antwerp, with one word and one word only in his mouth, which he is ever repeating, and that word is ‘money;’ no one listens to him, for there seems no possibility of extracting a penny from the townspeople without running the risk of an outbreak; in good sooth, the funds which the citizens supplied have so often been wasted that they are sick of the business.
On the other hand, Orange does what he can to awake the zeal of Antwerp, but, since Alençon’s disastrous attempt, his influence has fallen low, and there is a suspicion abroad that he is more anxious for his own personal advantage than for the welfare of his country. Some say he has crossed over to Zealand, to make all safe in that quarter, and transact some pressing business.
The fall of Dunkirk has been followed by the surrender of Nieuport, St. Winoc, and other neighbouring towns, so that they are in hopes of taking Bruges and Ypres. Thus affairs in the Netherlands are mending;[163] and possibly a little skilful management would induce the people to come to terms. I was expecting a man from Brabant, who would have given me accurate information on all these points, but I am afraid his return will be delayed by the capture of Dunkirk, which has greatly added to the difficulties of a sea passage.
There was in Paris a royal messenger, famous for his skill in conveying to their destination the orders and despatches of his master; nor was there any one in whose loyalty and discretion the King placed greater confidence. His Majesty had ordered him to cross the Alps with an autograph letter, filling two sheets, to the Duke of Joyeuse. He had not gone far before he fell in with four horsemen, who were dogging his path; they stabbed him in several places, and carried off the King’s letter; by this means, it is supposed, several important secrets have been discovered by the opponents of the Court. Whether it was for this reason or not I cannot say, but the King immediately hurried back to Paris, instead of accompanying his wife to Bourbon-les-bains, as he had intended. However, in a few days he will join her at the baths, going on to Lyons, but what he intends to do when he gets there is a secret to most people.
For myself, I am inclined to think that he wishes to see whether his presence on the spot will enable him to turn Montmorency[164] out of the government of Languedoc, and place the Duke of Joyeuse, or one of his other minions, in possession.
I am not, I say, certain that he will give it to the Duke of Joyeuse, since a most handsome provision has been made for him in the governorship of Normandy, which was refused to Alençon himself. But perhaps ere long we shall learn the truth.
Every one in Paris is talking of the news that Don Antonio’s new fleet has reached the Azores in safety. The commander is Monsieur de Chattes, a knight of Malta, and also a relation of the Duke of Joyeuse, Admiral of France.
Some time ago one St. Hilaire entered your Majesty’s service as a gentleman cadet. I understand he is now serving in Hungary. This young gentleman’s eldest brother is dead, and, if I mistake not, he stands next in succession to the estate; there are several brothers, and, if he is not present when the property is divided, there is danger of his not getting his proper share; as the loss to him might be considerable, his friends have come to the conclusion that he ought to be summoned home, and have requested me to write to your Majesty, and ask for an honourable discharge, which request I hereby comply with. It will be a good occasion for your Imperial Majesty to exercise your kindness by graciously giving him leave of absence for the transaction of private business.
The plague is breaking out afresh in several places, the wind being unusually steady, and never shifting, unless it be from south to west.
As to the Greek books, I most humbly repeat my request that your Majesty would keep the matter in mind.
There was lately in Paris a gentleman of good family, who was a notorious duellist. His name was the Baron de Viteaux,[165] and he had attained some celebrity by the bold and successful way in which he had killed sundry gentlemen with whom he had differences. The son of one of his victims was anxious to avenge his father’s death; he had also another motive, for having lately been discovered in a plot against the Baron’s life,[166] he knew that unless he killed him his doom was sealed. Accordingly he determined to take a decided course; so last Sunday he invited the Baron to measure swords with him in a field near Paris; the arrangement was that they should have in attendance only one servant apiece, and a gentleman of rank, the common friend of both parties, to act as umpire and marshal of the lists; the duel to be with sword and dagger, no other weapon being allowed, and only to be terminated when one of the combatants should have fallen. The Baron accepted the challenge; as soon as they met he ran his opponent through the arm and stretched him on the ground; not liking to strike him when he was down, he told him to get up. This act of kindness cost him dear, for his opponent, in no way daunted by his wound, but burning to avenge his fall, with one vigorous and skilful thrust, ran the Baron through the heart; then, as he lay dying on the ground, he stabbed him again and again, and thus rewarded his folly in sparing an antagonist whose arm still held a sword. Though scarcely twenty-one, the young man had for years been devoting himself to the art of fencing, with a view to this meeting. Thus died the famous Baron, who was looked on here as a second Mars, and is thought to have frightened the King[167] more than once. His end was like that of Montal[168] and Bussy,[169] both of whom died as they deserved to die. ‘Aspiciunt oculis superi mortalia justis.’ The victor is not yet out of danger. He received two wounds, one, as I mentioned, in his arm, and the other in his thigh. Even if he recovers, another duel awaits him, as he will be challenged by a relation of the late Baron, who is well qualified to avenge his death.
I thought there was no harm in giving your Majesty a full account of this affair, though it has but little connection with my business.
Paris, August 10, 1583.