Agnes Sorel: A Novel

by G. P. R. James

None of the many moral enigmas with which we are surrounded is more difficult of comprehension to the mind of a man of fixed and resolute character than the sudden changes which come upon more impulsive and volatile people. The demeanor of Juvenel de Royans was a matter of serious and puzzling thought to Jean Charost through the rest of the journey. He seemed so entirely changed, not only in feelings toward the young gentleman himself, but in disposition. Frank, active, impetuous as ever, he had, in the space of a few terrible weeks, lost the boyish flippancy of manner, and put on the manly character at once. Jean Charost could not understand it at all; and it seemed to him most strange that one who would willingly have cut his throat not a month before, should now, upon the establishment of one very slight link between them, treat him as a dear and ancient friend. Jean Charost was less of a Frenchman than Juvenel de Royans, both by birth and education; for the latter had been born in the gay and movable south, and had been indulged, if not spoiled, during all his early life; while the former had first seen the light in much more northern regions, and had received very early severe lessons of adversity. Neither, perhaps, had any distinct notion of the real causes of their former enmity; but Jean Charost was, at least, well satisfied that it should be terminated; and, as he was of no rancorous disposition, he gladly received the proffered friendship of his former adversary; though, to say sooth, he counted it at somewhat less than it was worth, on account of the suddenness with which it had arisen. He knew not that some of the trees which spring up the most rapidly are nevertheless the most valuable.

CHAPTER XXXII.

Let us abridge and improve French history. As it is generally written, it is quite susceptible of both abridgment and improvement.

The power of the Duke of Burgundy was without bounds in the city of Paris, and his daring and his ferocity were as boundless. He remembered ancient offenses as tenaciously as the Duke of Orleans had remembered kindnesses, and every one in Paris who had at any time shown enmity toward him either sought refuge in flight or stayed to receive abundant marks of his vindictive memory. But he had skill also, as well as daring; and especially that dark and politic skill which teaches the demagogue to turn the best and wisest deeds of an adversary to his disadvantage in the eyes of the people, and his own worst actions to the services of his own ambition. Oh, what a fool is The People! Always the dupe of hypocrisy and lies, always deceived by promises and pretenses, always the lover and the support of those who at heart most despise and condemn it. That great, many-headed fool followed the duke's path with acclamations wherever he appeared, although the evils under which they labored, notwithstanding all his promises, were augmented rather than diminished by his sway.

A hired sophist defended the assassination of the Duke of Orleans, in presence of the court and the university, and the people shouted loudly, though the excuse was too empty to deceive a child. The duke declared that the maladministration of Orleans compelled the continuance of the taxes promised to be repealed, and the people shouted loudly still. The Prévôt De Tignonville was punished and degraded for bringing two robbers to justice, though every one knew the real offense was his proposal to search the houses of the princes for the assassins of the Duke of Orleans; and still the people shouted.

Nevertheless, fortune was not altogether constant; and while the power of the duke increased in the capital, let him do whatever he would, a cloud was gathering round him from which he found it necessary to fly. The Duchess of Orleans cried loudly for vengeance; the Dukes of Bourbon, Brittany, and Berri armed for her support, and for the deliverance of the throne. The queen, having the dauphin with her, lent weight and countenance to the party, and gradually the forces of the confederates increased so far that Paris was no longer a safe asylum for the object of their just indignation.

It was then that a revolt took place in Liege, where the brother-in-law of the duke held the anomalous position of prince bishop; and Burgundy hurried away from Paris both to aid his relation, and to avoid the advance of the Orleanist army, without risking honor and power upon an unequal battle. For a short space his position was perilous. The strong-headed and turbulent citizens of Liege--no soft and silky burghers, as they are represented by the great novelist in an after reign--stout and hardy soldiers as ever were, dared the whole power of Burgundy. An enemy's army was in his rear; all the princes of the blood, the council, and most of the great vassals of France were against him; but he fought and won a battle, captured Liege, and turned upon his steps once more to overawe his enemies in France.

Time enough had been given for disunion to spread among the allied princes. William, count of Holland, interfered to gain over the queen to the Burgundian party, and a hollow peace was brought about, known as the peace of Chartres, which ended in the ascendency of the Duke of Burgundy, and the temporary abasement of his enemies.

Once more the vengeance of the duke was visited on the heads of all distinguished persons who had shown themselves even indifferent to his cause; but he forgot not his policy in his anger, and the spoils of his victims conciliated fresh partisans.

Intrigue succeeded intrigue for several years, and, in the midst of disasters and disappointments, the spirit of Valentine, duchess of Orleans, passed away from the earth (on which she had known little but sorrow), still calling for justice upon the murderers of her husband. Her children, however, were powerless at the time and it was not till the marriage of her eldest son with the daughter of the Count of Armagnac that the light of hope seemed to break upon them. Then began that famous struggle between the parties known in history as the Burgundians and Armagnacs. Paris became its great object of strife, and, during the absence of the Duke of Burgundy, it was surrounded, if not actually blockaded by the troops of Armagnac. The Orleanist party within the walls comprised many of the noblest and most enlightened men in France; but the lower classes of the people were almost to a man Burgundians, and, forming themselves into armed bands, under the leading of John of Troyes, a surgeon, and Simon Caboche, the cutler, they received the name of Cabochians, and exercised that atrocious ferocity which is the general characteristic of an ignorant multitude. There was a reign of terror in Paris in the fifteenth as well as in the eighteenth century, and many had cause to know that the red scarfs of Burgundy were dyed in blood. Anarchy and confusion still reigned within the walls: nor probably was the state of the country much better. But at length the Duke of Burgundy, unable to oppose his enemies in the field unaided, sought for and obtained the assistance of six thousand English archers, and entered Paris in triumph.