KING JOHN’S body was sent over to France from London. As the cortège escorting the coffin drew near to Paris Charles and his brothers went out on foot to meet it, going beyond Saint Denis and then convoying it to the abbey where it was duly buried. The metropolitan of Paris, the archbishop of Sens, sang mass, and after the service the princes with their following of lords and prelates returned to the city.
On Trinity Sunday, not long after, these same lords and prelates were witnesses of the coronation at Rheims of Charles and his wife. The ceremonies and festivities lasted five days, after which Charles returned to Paris to take up the burden of government of a disordered and disheartened country.
John’s lavishness could not make the people blind to their losses by the plague and three years after Charles’s accession a new attack swept across France striking chiefly the large cities where ignorance of sanitation produced conditions in which truly only the “fittest”—thetoughest—could survive. A writer of the time says, “None could count the number of the dead in Paris, young or old, rich or poor; when death entered a house the little children died first, then the menials, then the parents.” It is only wonderful that such epidemics did not make their visitations oftener, when, for instance, the bodies of Marcel and his companions in treachery were cast into the river at the Port Saint Paul, which is above the city, and the city continued to use the river water for drinking purposes.
The laxities of the last reign had permitted roving companies of what were little other than bandits to fight and burn and slay all over France, while in the northern provinces a lively war was going on with the Navarrese, helped by the Gascons and by bands of English. The territorial loss due to the Peace of Brétigny was a sore memory to king and people, and this participation in the internal strife of the country by the chief enemies of France aggravated hatred of the English. Nor was England the only land troublesome to Charles. There were dissensions in Italy and Spain and the French of the south were drawn into affairs that touched them practically although they were over the border. Avignon, which had been the enforced home of the popes since Philip the Fair’s refusal to acknowledge the temporal power of the pontiffover sixty years before, was deserted by Pope Urban V, who went to Rome in spite of Charles’s protestations. The emperor of Germany, Charles IV, was the only monarch of Europe who seemed to have any kindly feeling toward the young king. His friendship continued throughout Charles’s reign, and in 1378, two years before its end he and his son paid a visit to Paris.
Charles showed his appreciation of the imperial good will by the cordiality and elaborateness of his reception. The king’s representative, the Provost of Paris, and the people’s representative, the Provost of the Merchants, went as far as Saint Denis to meet the German train. The king himself, dressed in scarlet and mounted on a handsome white horse, awaited them at the suburb of La Chapelle. The combined retinues made a dazzling procession across the city to the palace on the island, where, in the evening, a supper was served to over eight hundred princes and nobles. The effect was disastrous on the emperor for he was so laid up with gout on the following day that he had to be borne by servants even the short distance between his apartments and the Sainte Chapelle where he heard mass and saw the Most Holy Relics. On that same day the burghers expressed their satisfaction with the visit by presenting their imperial guest, by the hand of the Provost of the Merchants, with a superb piece of silver and two huge silver-gilt flagons. Every day of the succeeding week was filled with festivities. In the city the emperor visited the Louvre and the Hôtel Saint Paul—the new palace at the east end—where he was received by the queen who showed him the royal menagerie. He made various excursions in the suburbs—to Saint Denis to see the tombs of the French monarchs, to the abbey of Saint Maur, east of the city, to thechâteauof Vincennes, where Charles was born and where he was destined to die two years later, and where now the imperial gout prevented the elder guest joining the younger in a stag hunt, and finally, on the day of departure, to the king’s favoritechâteau—de Beauté. Here the monarchs parted after exchanging rings and expressions of esteem.
Since Charles had so many troubles, both domestic and foreign, to contend with, it was fortunate that he was intelligent in his choice of advisers and sagacious and prudent in his legislation. Often he was hard-pressed financially, and more than once he had to summon the States General to secure approval of tax levies and of political moves. His fighting was not glorious, though Du Guesclin, whom he appointed Constable, was both bold and determined, but heknew how to make use of stratagem and even of defeat and to turn the quarrels of others to his own account.
Having brought about a state of peace and understanding in the immediate provinces and having strengthened himself by securing the fortification of many towns and the increase of his army, Charles found himself in a position to take the offensive against the English. A beginning at changing the state of affairs brought about by the Peace of Brétigny was made when the lords of Aquitaine, which the royal house of England held subject to Charles’s suzerainty, went to Paris, and, to the delight of the Parisians, entered a formal complaint against the harsh rule of the Prince of Wales. Edward was summoned to appear before the court at Paris. His reply to the messengers was: “We will willingly appear at Paris, since so the king of France commands us, but it will be with basnet on head and with sixty thousand men at our back.”
The States General supported Charles, and the court maintained that king Edward had forfeited his French holdings by failing to appear in Paris.
The English retaliated promptly, and for the remaining eleven years of Charles’s reign there was constant fighting though no great battle.Charles was not a knight of noteworthy personal prowess like his father. He never went to war himself, but he directed every move and carried diplomacy into every plan of operations. His army tolled the English along, always seeming to promise a meeting but never coming to grips, while at the same time it used up the food supply of the country and made the maintenance of the foreign force a matter of extreme difficulty. Small affairs were not prohibited, however, and the French took an English town here and another one there and won still others by stratagem.
At last from sheer fatigue a truce was entered into which lasted some two years. During it the Black Prince died. “The King of France, on account of his lineage,” says Froissart, “had funeral service in honor of him performed with great magnificence in the Sainte Chapelle of the palace in Paris, which was attended by many prelates and barons of the realm.”
A little later Edward III died and Charles, after holding a memorial service for him, also, in the Sainte Chapelle, at once put five armies into the field and instituted so vigorous an offensive policy that at the time of his death in 1380 the English were driven out of all but five coast cities.
Two months before the king’s death he losthis strong-armed Constable, Du Guesclin, at the siege of Châteauneuf-Randon. Strangely enough for a man who had spent his life in arms the great fighter did not die sword in hand, but of illness and in bed. The governor of the town, who had promised to yield to the Constable and to him alone, refused to give up his keys to the second in command and going out from the citadel laid them on the bier of the great captain. Du Guesclin’s body was carried to Paris where it lay in the monastery of the Cordeliers on the left bank before it was taken to Saint Denis where his tomb was arranged at the foot of the tomb which Charles had had prepared for himself. The ceremonies were as elaborate as those for a member of the royal family, in such esteem did the king hold the departed soldier.
It was only a few weeks later that Charles himself fell ill and realized that his end was not far off. He had known much sickness in his life—his was one of those triumphs of mind over unwilling matter. At one time before his accession his unamiable brother-in-law, Charles the Bad, had, it is asserted, caused him to be poisoned. So strong was the poison that his hair and nails fell from his body. His good friend the Emperor of Germany had sent him a skillful physician who had relieved his system by opening a small sore in his arm. If ever itproved impossible to keep this sore open, he told his royal patient, he must prepare for death, though he would have about a fortnight in which to set his house in order. Twenty-two years later, in September, 1380, the issue began to dry, and at the end of the month, on the eve of Michaelmas, the King died in his birthplace, thechâteauof Vincennes. His body with face uncovered was borne through the mourning crowds of Paris to the abbey of Saint Denis where it was buried in the tomb already prepared.
When Charles as a young man had made a spirited speech to the Parisians telling them that he meant to live and die in Paris he made a statement that he lived up to. Economical even to penuriousness elsewhere, he built lavishly in Paris. His improvement of the Louvre has been mentioned. In the northeast corner of the quadrangle were a garden, tennis court and menagerie. A library of nearly a thousand volumes was housed in three stories of one of the towers. Charles was a great student, read the entire Bible through every year, and had a corps of translators, transcribers, illuminators and binders always at work. His collection was the nucleus of the present National Library although the Duke of Bedford carried off a goodly number of books to England in the later part of the Hundred Years’ War. The royalapartments in the Louvre, elaborately carved and decorated, were large and well arranged. The rooms of the queen, Jeanne de Bourbon, were on the south side overlooking the river, and the king’s were on the north. Each of the children had a separate suite and that of the dauphin rivaled in size and elegance those of his father and mother. Each set of rooms had its own chapel.
The Old Louvre.
The Old Louvre.
The Old Louvre.
The palace on the Cité was full of unpleasant memories of the days of the regency—notably the murder of the marshals—and Charles no doubt was glad when the overcrowding caused by the business of the courts allowed him to break away from the tradition of royal residence under the ancient roof. With all its changesthe Louvre still was a rather grim dwelling, and Charles chose a more open location at the extreme east of the city for his new Hôtel Saint Paul. He bought existing houses, some of which he demolished, and land and laid out a large establishment of which the present names of streets in the vicinity suggest varied uses, though none of the original buildings are left. The streets of the Garden, of the Cherry Orchard, of the Fair Trellis, of the Lions tell their own stories, while the rue Charles V, a tiny thoroughfare, is the only street memorial in all Paris which bears the name of this great monarch.
The Hôtel des Tournelles, so called from its many towers, was built by Charles just north of the palace of Saint Paul.
Certainly Paris thrived under Charles. The population increased to a hundred and fifty thousand, many people coming in to the town during the troublous times with Navarre and the English to secure the protection of its wall. Charles carried on Marcel’s plans of fortification. The chief point was the Bastille—at first merely two heavy towers protecting one of the city gates, but, by the time of Charles’s death, strengthened by the addition of six others so that it became a formidable fortress and dungeon. Its walls were fifteen feet thick and over sixty feet high. A deep ditch surrounded it.Its destruction by the mob on July 14, 1789, was one of the opening events of the Revolution, and so profoundly did its grim walls symbolize oppression that the anniversary of its destruction is the French national holiday. Where the huge building stood is now an open square adorned by a shaft called the “July Column” raised in honor of the heroes of the Revolution of July, 1830.
Of examples of domestic architecture of this time there is still in existence part of the Hôtel de Clisson. It is now the entrance of the Archives, and, like the Hôtel de Sens, shows the lingering style of the feudalchâteau.
Charles was ably seconded in his civic improvements by Hugh Aubriot, the provost of Paris, who established a mallet-armed militia devoted to the king’s interests. The provost of Paris represented the king, and Charles added to his responsibilities many of those formerly attaching to the provostship of the Merchants before the king had experienced their extent in the hands of Marcel. Aubriot laid the corner stone of the enlarged Bastille. He never was on good terms with the clergy, unlike Charles, whose studiousness and piety endeared him to the ecclesiastics. On the very day of Charles’s funeral, even while thecortègewas making its way to Saint Denis, the provost quarreled withthe rector of the University, was ordered before the bishop of Paris to answer for his misdeed, and was condemned to life imprisonment. How he escaped is a later story.
As provost of Paris Aubriot lived in the Grand Châtelet on the right bank. This fortress, afterwards a prison, is now represented only by a square of the name. In the course of his improvements Charles strengthened its mate, the Petit Châtelet, on the left bank. He also installed the first large clock in Paris, that on the square tower of the Conciergerie.
As a symbol of the royal power the king ordered that there be added to the seal of the city of Paris, which bore the ship of the ancient guild of Nautae, a field sown with the fleur-de-lis.
Arms of City of Paris under Charles V.
Arms of City of Paris under Charles V.
Arms of City of Paris under Charles V.
WHEN Charles V lay on his death-bed he summoned his brothers, the dukes of Berri and Burgundy and his brother-in-law, the duke of Bourbon, and gave them detailed instructions concerning the guardianship of his son, the dauphin Charles, then twelve years old. He explained frankly that his brother, the duke of Anjou, was not asked to this conference, although next to himself in age, because of his grasping character. Undoubtedly there were other qualities upon which he did not need to dwell, for the duke of Anjou was that son of John the Good who had broken his word of honor, thereby compelling his father to return to his confinement in England.
The four brothers had no idea that Anjou was present other than in spirit, perhaps, at the council around the death-bed of the eldest. Yet he was concealed so near that he heard every word including the “no good to himself” which is the proverbial reward of the listener. He straightway went forth and turned to his own account the information so infamously acquired.Rushing from Vincennes to Paris he seized the king’s personal valuables, and, as soon as Charles was buried, he declared himself regent, because of his being the new king’s oldest uncle.
Charles VI (1380-1422) was only twelve years old, and, of course, was entirely in the hands of his guardians. The Parisians were disposed to be gentle toward the child, and received him with rejoicing when he entered the city after his coronation at Rheims. Their attitude was soon to change. Charles VI’s reign was one of such dissension and turbulence among his subjects, of such intrigue, hypocrisy and treachery among his friends and relatives, and of such advance by his external enemies who naturally took advantage of these internal troubles, that France has never been in worse case except during the horrors of the Revolution. Paris, where centered the initiative of the country, was torn by riot and insurrection, the burghers were manipulated by the lords, and the populace was at last declared subject to its chief enemy, the English.
The earliest trouble came when there was need of money for the meditated war with Flanders, and for the duke of Anjou’s secret preparations for an expedition to Naples where it was his life’s ambition to rule. As usual, the coffers of the Jews offered an irresistible temptation. Theghetto was in the heart of the Cité. Its houses were plundered and burned and many Hebrews lost their lives in trying to protect their property. To Anjou the citizens were more generous than to the king. A certain sum which they had promised to the royal treasury went into the avuncular pocketbook.
There had been fair words at first about the reduction of taxes, but when the words came to nothing the Parisians rose in hot rebellion. The immediate cause was the announcement of a new tax on all merchandise sold. When the tax-gatherers attempted to do their duty the people went to the Hôtel de Ville and the Arsenal and armed themselves with the mallets which Hugh Aubriot had prepared for the use of the militia when they should be called out against the English. For several days the people were masters of the city. Aubriot was released from the bishop’s prison and was put at the head of the rebellion, but he evidently regarded this as a doubtful honor, for he disappeared in the course of the night, seeming to think that an escape confirmed was better than a hazardous leadership. Prisoners for debt were released by the insurrectionists and themaillotins—mallet-bearers—committed many murders for which they were to suffer swift punishment.
Young Charles had had his first taste of warin Flanders and had gained the battle of Rosebecque. Returning to Paris the citizens came forth to meet him fully armed and with such martial demeanor that it looked as if they came to greet their lord in battle array. Charles sent an officer to them as they stood massed under Montmartre, to the north of the city, with a message to the effect that he had no desire to see them in any such guise, and ordering them back within the walls. When the young king had restored the oriflamme to its place beside the altar at Saint Denis he entered the city with every evidence of displeasure at the recent revolutionary behavior of the citizens. The barriers before the gates and the gates themselves were destroyed as if the monarch were making an entrance into the town of an enemy, and he rode haughtily through the streets, the only mounted soldier in the army, acknowledging neither by look or word the acclamations of his subjects. No sooner had he given thanks for his victories and had left Notre Dame than he issued stern orders of reprisal. He punished individuals by fine or imprisonment or death and the city by a loss of privileges which it had taken long to win. Among them, the Provost of Merchants became merely a minor officer of the king, the corporations lost the right of electing their heads, the chains which had beenstretched across the streets at night and which could be serviceable as barricades were removed, and the burghers were disarmed.
Among the executions was that of Jean Desmarets, an old man who had served well and faithfully both king and people. His had been a soothing influence on many occasions when the citizens would have broken out in rebellion, but now he was caught in a position where his conviction was inevitable in the midst of a turmoil where discriminations were not made. On his way to execution some one shouted to him to ask King Charles for mercy. “God alone will I ask for mercy,” he said. “I served well and faithfully King Charles’s great-grandfather, and his grandfather, and his father, and they had nothing with which to reproach me. If the king had the age and knowledge of a man he would never have been guilty of such a judgment against me.”
When the Parisians piled up before the Louvre enough arms to furnish forth eight hundred thousand soldiers Charles knew that they were thoroughly penitent.
The king’s uncles soon wearied of guardianship which each must share with his brother, and they went off on their separate interests with the exception of the strongest of them all, the duke of Burgundy. He was that same Philip theBold who had fought beside his father at Poitiers and who had received the duchy of Burgundy as his reward. He had made an advantageous marriage, and so firmly established was he and so conscious of his power that at the coronation of Charles VI he had sat down beside the king in the place which his brother Anjou should have occupied, and no one tried to dispossess him. Now he practically ruled the kingdom alone, though the other uncles returned now and then. Charles was but a lad still, and it was not unnatural that he should be lively, and his uncles were well content that he should be diverted from any attempt to learn anything of his business of government. Balls and jousts were frequent. There was a revival of the fashions of the days of chivalry, and old chronicles and tales were sought out to teach the ancient customs. The ladies wore extravagant head-dresses with veils and horns and the men decked themselves in tight nether garments and flowing sleeves.
Froissart tells in detail the events of the “First Entry” of Charles’s queen, Isabeau of Bavaria, into Paris. He is not right in saying that she never had been in the city. She had been married five years at the time: her wedding banquet had been given in the palace of the Cité, and she had been crowned in the Sainte Chapelle.This “Entry” was merely an excuse for especially gorgeous festivities.
“It was on Sunday, the 20th day of June, in the year of our Lord 1389,” says the chronicler, “that the queen entered Paris. In the afternoon of that day the noble ladies of France who were to accompany the queen assembled at Saint Denis, with such of the nobility as were appointed to lead the litters of the queen and her attendants. The citizens of Paris, to the number of 1,200, were mounted on horseback, dressed in uniforms of green and crimson, and lined each side of the road. Queen Joan and her daughter the Duchess of Orleans entered the city first, about an hour after noon, in a covered litter, and passing through the great street of Saint Denis, went to the palace, where the king was waiting for them.“The Queen of France, attended by the Duchess of Berry and many other noble ladies, began the procession in an open litter most richly ornamented. A crowd of nobles attended, and sergeants and others of the king’s officers had full employment in making way for the procession, for there were such numbers assembled that it seemed as if all the world had come thither. At the gate of Saint Denis was the representation of a starry firmament, and within it were children dressed as angels, whose singing and chanting was melodiously sweet. There was also an image of the Virgin holding in her arms a child, who at times amused himself with a windmill made of a large walnut. The upper part of this firmament was richly adorned with the arms of France and Bavaria, with a brilliant sun dispersing his rays through the heavens; and this sun was the king’s device at the ensuing tournaments. The queen, after passing them, advanced slowly to the fountain in the street of Saint Denis, which was decorated with fine bluecloth besprinkled over with golden flowers-de-luce; and instead of water, the fountain ran in great streams of Clairé, and excellent Piement. Around the fountain were young girls handsomely dressed, who sang most sweetly, and held in their hands cups of gold, offering drink to all who chose it. Below the monastery of the Trinity a scaffold had been erected in the streets, and on it a castle, with a representation of the battle with King Saladin performed by living actors, the Christians on one side and the Saracens on the other. The procession then passed on to the second gate of Saint Denis, which was adorned as the first; and as the queen was going through the gate two angels descended and gently placed on her head a rich golden crown, ornamented with precious stones, at the same time singing sweetly the following verse:—“Dame enclose entre fleurs de Lys,Reine êtes vous de Paris.De France, et de tout le païs,Nous en r’ allons en paradis.“Opposite the chapel of Saint James a scaffold had been erected, richly decorated with tapestry, and surrounded with curtains, within which were men who played finely on organs. The whole street of Saint Denis was covered with a canopy or rich camlet and silk cloths. The queen and her ladies, conducted by the great lords, arrived at length at the gate of the Châtelet, where they stopped to see other splendid pageants that had been prepared. The queen and her attendants thence passed on to the bridge of Notre Dame, which was covered with a starry canopy of green and crimson, and the streets were all hung with tapestry as far as the church. It was now late in the evening, for the procession, ever since it had setout from Saint Denis, had advanced but at a foot’s pace. As the queen was passing down the street of Notre Dame, a man descended by means of a rope from the highest tower of Notre Dame church, having two lighted torches in his hands, and playing many tricks as he came down. The Bishop of Paris and his numerous clergy met the queen at the entrance of the church, and conducted her through the nave and choir to the great altar, where, on her knees, she made her prayers, and presented as her offering four cloths of gold, and the handsome crown which the angels had put on her head at the gate of Paris. The Lord John de la Rivière and Sir John le Mercier instantly brought one more rich with which they crowned her. When this was done she and her ladies left the church, and as it was late upwards of 500 lighted tapers attended the procession. In such array were they conducted to the palace, where the king, Queen Joan, and the Duchess of Orleans were waiting for them.“On the morrow, which was Monday, the king gave a grand dinner to a numerous company of ladies, and at the hour of high mass the Queen of France was conducted to the holy chapel, where she was anointed and sanctified in the usual manner. Sir William de Viare, Archbishop of Rouen, said mass. Shortly after mass the king, queen, and all the ladies entered the hall: and you must know that the great marble table which is in the hall was covered with oaken planks four inches thick, and the royal dinner placed thereon. Near the table, and against one of the pillars, was the king’s buffet, magnificently decked out with gold and silver plate; and in the hall were plenty of attendants, sergeants-at-arms, ushers, archers, and minstrels, who played away to the best of their ability. The kings, prelates, and ladies, having washed, seated themselves at the tables, which were three in number: at the first,sat the King and Queen of France, and some few of the higher nobility; and at the other two, there were upwards of 500 ladies and damsels; but the crowd was so great that it was with difficulty they could be served with dinner, which indeed was plentiful and sumptuous. There were in the hall many curiously arranged devices: a castle to represent the city of Troy, with the palace of Ilion, from which were displayed the banners of the Trojans; also a pavilion on which were placed the banners of the Grecian kings, and which was moved as it were by invisible beings to the attack of Troy, assisted by a large ship capable of containing 100 men-at-arms; but the crowd was so great that this amusement could not last long. There were so many people on all sides that several were stifled by the heat, and the queen herself almost fainted. The queen left the palace about five o’clock, and, followed by her ladies, in litters or on horseback, proceeded to the residence of the king at the hotel de Saint Pol. The king took boat at the palace, and was rowed to his hotel, where, in a large hall, he entertained the ladies at a banquet; the queen, however, remained in her chamber where she supped, and did not again appear that night. On Tuesday, many superb presents were made by the Parisians to the King and Queen of France, and the Duchess of Touraine. This day the king and queen dined in private, at their different hotels, for at three o’clock the tournament was to take place in the square of Saint Catherine, where scaffolds had been erected for the accommodation of the queen and the ladies. The knights who took part in this tournament were thirty in number, including the king; and when the jousts began they were carried on with great vigor, every one performing his part in honor of the ladies. The Duke of Ireland, who was then a resident at Paris, and invited by the king to the tournament, tilted well; alsoa German knight from beyond the Rhine, by name Sir Gervais di Mirande, gained great commendation. The number of knights made it difficult to give a full stroke, and the dust was so troublesome that it increased the difficulty. The Lord de Coucy shone with brilliancy. The tilts were continued without relaxation until night, when the ladies were conducted to their hotels. At the hotel de Saint Pol was the most magnificent banquet ever heard of. Feasting and dancing lasted till sunrise, and the prize of the tournament was given, with the assent of the ladies and heralds, to the king as being the best tilter on the opponent side; while the prize for the holders of the lists was given to the Halze de Flandres, bastard brother to the Duchess of Burgundy. On Wednesday the tilting was continued, and the banquet this evening was as grand as the preceding one. The prize was adjudged by the ladies and heralds to a squire from Hainault, as the most deserving of the opponents, and to a squire belonging to the Duke of Burgundy, as the best tenant of the field. On Thursday also the tournament was continued; and, this day, knights and squires tilted promiscuously, and many gallant justs were done, for every one took pains to excel. When night put an end to the combat there was a grand entertainment again for the ladies at the hotel de Saint Pol. On Friday the king feasted the ladies and damsels at dinner, and afterwards very many returned to their homes, the king and queen thanking them very graciously for having come to the feast.”
“It was on Sunday, the 20th day of June, in the year of our Lord 1389,” says the chronicler, “that the queen entered Paris. In the afternoon of that day the noble ladies of France who were to accompany the queen assembled at Saint Denis, with such of the nobility as were appointed to lead the litters of the queen and her attendants. The citizens of Paris, to the number of 1,200, were mounted on horseback, dressed in uniforms of green and crimson, and lined each side of the road. Queen Joan and her daughter the Duchess of Orleans entered the city first, about an hour after noon, in a covered litter, and passing through the great street of Saint Denis, went to the palace, where the king was waiting for them.
“The Queen of France, attended by the Duchess of Berry and many other noble ladies, began the procession in an open litter most richly ornamented. A crowd of nobles attended, and sergeants and others of the king’s officers had full employment in making way for the procession, for there were such numbers assembled that it seemed as if all the world had come thither. At the gate of Saint Denis was the representation of a starry firmament, and within it were children dressed as angels, whose singing and chanting was melodiously sweet. There was also an image of the Virgin holding in her arms a child, who at times amused himself with a windmill made of a large walnut. The upper part of this firmament was richly adorned with the arms of France and Bavaria, with a brilliant sun dispersing his rays through the heavens; and this sun was the king’s device at the ensuing tournaments. The queen, after passing them, advanced slowly to the fountain in the street of Saint Denis, which was decorated with fine bluecloth besprinkled over with golden flowers-de-luce; and instead of water, the fountain ran in great streams of Clairé, and excellent Piement. Around the fountain were young girls handsomely dressed, who sang most sweetly, and held in their hands cups of gold, offering drink to all who chose it. Below the monastery of the Trinity a scaffold had been erected in the streets, and on it a castle, with a representation of the battle with King Saladin performed by living actors, the Christians on one side and the Saracens on the other. The procession then passed on to the second gate of Saint Denis, which was adorned as the first; and as the queen was going through the gate two angels descended and gently placed on her head a rich golden crown, ornamented with precious stones, at the same time singing sweetly the following verse:—
“Dame enclose entre fleurs de Lys,Reine êtes vous de Paris.De France, et de tout le païs,Nous en r’ allons en paradis.
“Dame enclose entre fleurs de Lys,Reine êtes vous de Paris.De France, et de tout le païs,Nous en r’ allons en paradis.
“Dame enclose entre fleurs de Lys,Reine êtes vous de Paris.De France, et de tout le païs,Nous en r’ allons en paradis.
“Opposite the chapel of Saint James a scaffold had been erected, richly decorated with tapestry, and surrounded with curtains, within which were men who played finely on organs. The whole street of Saint Denis was covered with a canopy or rich camlet and silk cloths. The queen and her ladies, conducted by the great lords, arrived at length at the gate of the Châtelet, where they stopped to see other splendid pageants that had been prepared. The queen and her attendants thence passed on to the bridge of Notre Dame, which was covered with a starry canopy of green and crimson, and the streets were all hung with tapestry as far as the church. It was now late in the evening, for the procession, ever since it had setout from Saint Denis, had advanced but at a foot’s pace. As the queen was passing down the street of Notre Dame, a man descended by means of a rope from the highest tower of Notre Dame church, having two lighted torches in his hands, and playing many tricks as he came down. The Bishop of Paris and his numerous clergy met the queen at the entrance of the church, and conducted her through the nave and choir to the great altar, where, on her knees, she made her prayers, and presented as her offering four cloths of gold, and the handsome crown which the angels had put on her head at the gate of Paris. The Lord John de la Rivière and Sir John le Mercier instantly brought one more rich with which they crowned her. When this was done she and her ladies left the church, and as it was late upwards of 500 lighted tapers attended the procession. In such array were they conducted to the palace, where the king, Queen Joan, and the Duchess of Orleans were waiting for them.
“On the morrow, which was Monday, the king gave a grand dinner to a numerous company of ladies, and at the hour of high mass the Queen of France was conducted to the holy chapel, where she was anointed and sanctified in the usual manner. Sir William de Viare, Archbishop of Rouen, said mass. Shortly after mass the king, queen, and all the ladies entered the hall: and you must know that the great marble table which is in the hall was covered with oaken planks four inches thick, and the royal dinner placed thereon. Near the table, and against one of the pillars, was the king’s buffet, magnificently decked out with gold and silver plate; and in the hall were plenty of attendants, sergeants-at-arms, ushers, archers, and minstrels, who played away to the best of their ability. The kings, prelates, and ladies, having washed, seated themselves at the tables, which were three in number: at the first,sat the King and Queen of France, and some few of the higher nobility; and at the other two, there were upwards of 500 ladies and damsels; but the crowd was so great that it was with difficulty they could be served with dinner, which indeed was plentiful and sumptuous. There were in the hall many curiously arranged devices: a castle to represent the city of Troy, with the palace of Ilion, from which were displayed the banners of the Trojans; also a pavilion on which were placed the banners of the Grecian kings, and which was moved as it were by invisible beings to the attack of Troy, assisted by a large ship capable of containing 100 men-at-arms; but the crowd was so great that this amusement could not last long. There were so many people on all sides that several were stifled by the heat, and the queen herself almost fainted. The queen left the palace about five o’clock, and, followed by her ladies, in litters or on horseback, proceeded to the residence of the king at the hotel de Saint Pol. The king took boat at the palace, and was rowed to his hotel, where, in a large hall, he entertained the ladies at a banquet; the queen, however, remained in her chamber where she supped, and did not again appear that night. On Tuesday, many superb presents were made by the Parisians to the King and Queen of France, and the Duchess of Touraine. This day the king and queen dined in private, at their different hotels, for at three o’clock the tournament was to take place in the square of Saint Catherine, where scaffolds had been erected for the accommodation of the queen and the ladies. The knights who took part in this tournament were thirty in number, including the king; and when the jousts began they were carried on with great vigor, every one performing his part in honor of the ladies. The Duke of Ireland, who was then a resident at Paris, and invited by the king to the tournament, tilted well; alsoa German knight from beyond the Rhine, by name Sir Gervais di Mirande, gained great commendation. The number of knights made it difficult to give a full stroke, and the dust was so troublesome that it increased the difficulty. The Lord de Coucy shone with brilliancy. The tilts were continued without relaxation until night, when the ladies were conducted to their hotels. At the hotel de Saint Pol was the most magnificent banquet ever heard of. Feasting and dancing lasted till sunrise, and the prize of the tournament was given, with the assent of the ladies and heralds, to the king as being the best tilter on the opponent side; while the prize for the holders of the lists was given to the Halze de Flandres, bastard brother to the Duchess of Burgundy. On Wednesday the tilting was continued, and the banquet this evening was as grand as the preceding one. The prize was adjudged by the ladies and heralds to a squire from Hainault, as the most deserving of the opponents, and to a squire belonging to the Duke of Burgundy, as the best tenant of the field. On Thursday also the tournament was continued; and, this day, knights and squires tilted promiscuously, and many gallant justs were done, for every one took pains to excel. When night put an end to the combat there was a grand entertainment again for the ladies at the hotel de Saint Pol. On Friday the king feasted the ladies and damsels at dinner, and afterwards very many returned to their homes, the king and queen thanking them very graciously for having come to the feast.”
Three years later Charles became insane, and it seemed as if no man was his friend thereafter. Undoubtedly a life of youthful dissipation and a naturally violent temper were the bases of his malady. The provoking causes seem tohave been two. Urged by the bishop of Laon Charles had plucked up courage enough definitely to send away his uncles and to undertake to rule with the help of some of his father’s advisers, whom he recalled. One of these men, his Constable, Oliver de Clisson, was foully murdered at a little distance from the Hôtel Saint Paul, a few minutes after he had left a banquet given by the king. When Charles was told of the murder he rushed into the street in his night clothes and heard the name of the assassin, de Craon, from de Clisson’s own lips. The king burned with desire for vengeance. He set out as soon as he could in pursuit of de Craon who was supposed to have fled to Brittany. On an extremely hot day for which the king was unsuitably dressed in a thick black velvet jacket and heavy scarlet velvet cap, there dashed out at him from the roadside an old man, probably half-witted, who kept crying “Go no farther; thou art betrayed.” Charles was much startled by this gruesome warning, and when close upon it a page’s lance fell clattering against some piece of steel equipment he was seized with frenzy, wounded several of his followers, and when he was at last overpowered and taken from his horse, recognized no one.
Never again was he wholly sane. There were times of betterment, but never any real mentalhealth. His people loved him—his nickname is Bien-Aimé—as they would a helpless child, but after a while no one except a hired woman took any care of him. His clothes and his person were neglected and he had no medical care. Isabeau deserted him and he had a repugnance for her even when he did not recognize her. At other times he had lucid intervals when he took part in festivities prepared to divert him. It was at the wedding entertainment of a lady of the court, held at the Hôtel Saint Paul where he lived, that he came near being burned to death. He and five of his courtiers were sewed up in tarred skins and were supposed to represent satyrs. Some one, perhaps by accident, perhaps with the desire to get the king out of the way, set fire to these dresses. It was impossible to pull them off. One of the young men threw himself into a tub of water and was saved. The king escaped by being wrapped in the voluminous skirt of his very young aunt-in-law, the duchess of Berri.
With the head of the kingdom insane for thirty years and with court and political factions working against each other with all virulence it is not strange that the country became merely a ground for the display of individual passion. The duke of Burgundy of the moment was John the Fearless, son of Philip the Bold. BetweenJohn and Charles’s brother, Louis, duke of Orleans, raged a hot rivalry. Isabeau, whose relations with Louis were a public scandal, fed the fire of disturbance. At last, in November, 1407, only three days after a public reconciliation, Louis was assassinated at the hands of John’s bravos as he was decoyed by a false message purporting to be from Charles, from the Hôtel Barbette where he had been supping with the queen. The house with its charming little tower is still standing in a crowded street of the Marais. It is not hard to picture the rush of the assassins, the screams of onlookers aroused from sleep, the hiss of arrows shot at windows where eyes were seeing what was meant to be hid, and the final ordering away of the ruffians by a tall man in command.
The next day what member of the royal family more grief-stricken than the duke of Burgundy! Yet he admitted the deed to his uncle, the duke of Berri. In spite of that he had the audacity the day after to try to join the council of princes who met in the Hôtel de Nesle on the left bank to discuss the matter. To their credit be it said that they did not admit him. John rode away into Flanders, but so great was his confidence in the affection for him of the people of Paris that he ventured to return, to have his case defended by a monk—who argued for five hoursjustifying the murder of Louis as the murder of a tyrant—and to force the weak-minded king to forgive him the vile deed. He even practically ruled the city for a time in the absence of the queen. Indeed it was not long before he and Isabeau came to a secret understanding. A little later a marriage was arranged between the murderer’s daughter and one of the sons of his victim.
Louis of Orleans’ son Charles, better known as a poet than as a statesman or warrior, married for his second wife the daughter of the count of Armagnac of the south of France. The father-in-law was more energetic than Charles, and he headed the struggle with the Burgundians. The populace of Paris sided with the Burgundians, the court with the Armagnacs. For five years France, and especially Paris was rent with broils and battles. In Charles V’s day the corporations had grown strong enough to cause some concern to the king and the nobles. Now the powerful brotherhood of butchers entered with enthusiasm into the dissensions that were making Paris almost uninhabitable for the peacefully inclined. Accustomed to the sight of blood and its shedding they entered with enthusiasm into the reformation of the government and especially of such members of the Armagnac party as were prominent. Led by a slaughterernamed Caboche they supported the Burgundians in every attack, always in the name of changes which the wisest men of the burghers saw to be beneficial, but which no one had the ability to bring to pass except by violence. The cry of “Armagnac” was enough to cause an attack on any passer in the street and many a private vengeance was accomplished by means of the party shout.
So bad did conditions become that the steadiest of thebourgeoisat last summoned the Armagnacs to check the excesses of the Cabochiens. John the Fearless, who had been the real ruler, since he issued orders and proclamations purporting to come from the mad king, was driven out of the city.
His going was a relief to Paris but to the country as a whole it brought disaster, for the duke was not slow in joining forces with the English who had seen their opportunity in the disturbed condition of their enemy’s land. Henry V had recently succeeded his father and had all a newcomer’s and a young man’s enthusiasm for renewing the English claim upon the French crown. He himself headed the army and in October, 1415, inflicted upon the French the crushing defeat of Agincourt wherein 10,000 Frenchmen lay dead upon the field. Neversince Agincourt has theoriflammeleft the altar of Saint Denis.
The whole country was in a state of uproar, ready to change every existing arrangement in the hope that what succeeded it would be better. The populace of Paris rose against the Armagnacs and the treachery of a Burgundian sympathizer admitted the friends of John the Fearless. The guardian of the Porte de Buci (in the left bank wall just south of the Tour de Nesle) was an iron merchant whose place of business was on the Petit Pont, the western bridge connecting the Cité with the left bank. This man’s son stole his father’s keys and opened the gate to the Burgundians. They swarmed into the city and at once began a massacre so horrible that the streets were strewn with dead bodies which the children pulled about in play. The Provost of Paris seized the dauphin, afterwards Charles VII, then a lad of fifteen, and carried him in his arms to the Bastille where he might be in safety. The insurgents broke in to the Hôtel Saint Paul, took out the mad king and led him about the city on a horse on the pretense that he was giving his approval to the change of rule. As a matter of fact he was a mere puppet in their hands.
As if these disturbances were not enough, Paris, toward the end of this same year (1418),underwent a severe attack of the plague during which the mortality was so great that the dead were buried in ditches, six hundred in each trench. Between September 8 and December 8, according to the city grave-diggers, a hundred thousand people were buried and of these all but about a dozen in every four or five hundred were children. It is small wonder that the Danse Macabre, picturing all men as followed through life by skeletons giving warning of death, was painted in the cemetery of the Holy Innocents, even though the number stated by the grave-diggers would seem to have been increased by the proverbial libation-pouring habits of the profession. Probably fifty thousand is nearer the truth.
Queen Isabeau was ever on the side which she thought most profitable to herself. Just now she was in league with John the Fearless who had caused her to be named regent. With him she had reëntered Paris; she concurred in his getting rid of the Cabochiens by sending them out of the city to attack the Armagnacs outside, and shutting the gates behind them; but it is suspected that she was not ignorant of the plot to murder the duke which was carried out the next year.
John the Fearless was succeeded by his son, Philip the Good, and he became the queen’s adviser. The battle of Agincourt had given Henry
THE OLDEST KNOWN MAP OF PARIS, PROBABLY 15TH CENTURY.The top of the page is east.
THE OLDEST KNOWN MAP OF PARIS, PROBABLY 15TH CENTURY.The top of the page is east.
THE OLDEST KNOWN MAP OF PARIS, PROBABLY 15TH CENTURY.
The top of the page is east.
V of England the right to dictate the terms of the Treaty of Troyes. By it Queen Isabeau practically gave away the crown which belonged to her son Charles, bestowed her daughter, Catherine, in marriage on Henry, and yielded the regency of France to Henry during the lifetime of the mad king. Burgundians and English escorted Henry V into Paris at the end of December, 1420. He made the Louvre his residence and put English officers in charge of the Bastille and the other fortifications. The Parisians at first received the newcomers with delight, for so worn was the city with quarreling and fighting that the advent of a new element was looked upon with hope. It was not long, however, before Henry’s sternness and the arrogance of his followers made them disliked, and the new element was found to be an element of discord. Between the regent and the Church there were continual dissensions, for the bishops refused to confirm Henry’s appointments of prelates sympathetic with England.
In addition to the constant disturbances that agitated the streets the city was in a pitiable state in other ways. Famine and plague had done their work thoroughly, and the population was much reduced; the always exorbitant taxes drove property owners out of the city into the country, which they found in such bad case thateven the wolves went from the country into the city, and made nightly raids upon the cemeteries. Children died in the streets from hunger, dogs were eaten as a delicacy, and the demands of beggars upon the seemingly well-to-do were more in the nature of threats than appeals.
Henry V died in August, 1422, and Charles the Well-Beloved followed him to the grave in October of the same year. Henry’s body lay in state at Saint Denis before it was taken to England. Charles’s subjects came to view the remains of their poor tortured king during the three weeks that it rested at the Hôtel Saint Paul before being taken to Notre Dame and then to Saint Denis. Over his grave at Saint Denis the little English prince, Henry VI, only a few months old, was acknowledged king of France. The duke of Bedford became regent, and the English rose was quartered on the arms of Paris.
The rightful king, Charles VII, crowded out of Paris, fought with small success through the middle of France, until Jeanne Darc, the inspired peasant of Domremy, led his forces to such success that she dared besiege Paris. She established her army on the northwest of the city before the St. Honoré Gate, and there she fell, wounded by a shaft, but a short distance from the spot where her equestrian statue stands now on the Place des Pyramides. It would have beeneasier for her if death had come to her then than later in the flames of the Rouen market place.
It was about a month before her trial—some seven years after the death of Charles VI—that Henry VI was crowned king of France in the cathedral of Notre Dame (1431). The English lords made a brave showing at the ceremony, but there were few of the French nobles present, though many sent representatives who wore their escutcheons. So niggardly were the English after the service at the church that the people, who were accustomed to liberal largesse on such occasions, declared that there would have been more generosity shown at the wedding of abourgeoisjeweler.
Charles, who had been consecrated at Rheims in 1429 as the fulfillment of the dearest wish of the Pucelle, tried once more, in 1436, to win his city from the English. This time his general, the Constable de Richemont, entered by the Porte Saint Jacques on the south and advanced through the city unresisted. The English, to the number of about fifteen hundred, took refuge in the Bastille, whence they were starved out in short order and escaped by the Porte Saint Antoine into the fields. A year later Charles made his official entry into the town which he had left nineteen years before when the provost rescued him from the onslaught of the Burgundians. Itwas a solemn scene when the restored king knelt before the altar of Notre Dame to give thanks for his return.
When he went to the palace on the Cité he must have stood in need of all the composure that religion could give him for there he saw among the statues of the kings of France the statue of Henry V of England! Charles did not have it taken down. It stood with mutilated face to make public show of his scorn.
The English captured at Pontoise were drowned at the Grève soon after. Paris no longer welcomed the stranger.
The city itself was forlorn enough. So poorly was it protected that again wolves made their way through the gates which their keepers were too languid or too indifferent to guard properly. It is said that in one week of the month of September, 1438, no fewer than forty persons were killed by the hungry beasts in Paris and its immediate neighborhood. Twenty-four thousand dwellings stood vacant.
Charles reorganized the administration of Paris, restoring the elections of city officials which his father had suppressed, and establishing a fairly satisfactory arrangement of taxes. A marked addition to the royal power lay in the organization of a standing army devoted to the royal interests. It was thus that he utilized theenergy of the adventurers who had grown irresponsible through the disturbed state of the country. By the aid of these soldiers he was enabled to put down the nobility who tried to revolt from his new ordinances and place the dauphin, afterwards Louis XI, on the throne. Louis did not object, but Charles enlisted the good-will of thebourgeoisie, and, chiefly because he did not ask them for money or soldiers, they gave both to him with such willingness that the lords took heed that a new power was confirming the royal attitude. It was not the end of his troubles with the dauphin who remained ever rebelliously opposed to his father, but when one lord was obliged to let the Parliament of Paris arbitrate his quarrels, and when another was thrust into a sack and thrown into the Seine their turbulence was at least discouraged.
With his domestic troubles thus quieted Charles could devote his attention to the war with England, and he did so in painstaking contrast to the almost lethargic indifference of his earlier years. The contest dragged its weary length along until October, 1453 when Charles marched victorious into Bordeaux. Calais was all that was left to England.
Eight years later (1461) Charles “the Victorious,” who had spent little time in Paris, died elsewhere. Stormy as had been his reignand unworthy as had been his character, he nevertheless left his kingdom not only at peace but with the royal power strengthened by the friendliness of the burgher class and possessed of an efficient weapon in the standing army. France was ready for the new order which was to begin under Charles’s son, Louis XI.
WITH Charles VII’s son, Louis XI (1461-1483), the modern history of France may be said to begin, since he substituted the use of brain for the use of muscle in the management of affairs. His earliest attempts at government seem not to have been successful, since at the end of four years he had alienated every class of society. The League of the Public Welfare was formed to oppose him, and it included nobles, clergy, burghers and populace, each of whom had its own serious grievance. Louis had a well-disciplined army but he could not be in all parts of his kingdom at once, and while his attention was given elsewhere his enemies approached Paris. The moral effect of the capture of Paris was to be dreaded almost as much as its actual loss, and the king made himself active in trying to prevent the misfortune. Unlike any ruler preceding him his first efforts were always diplomatic. Instead of rushing troops to Paris he sent messages of appeal to every class within the walls. They roused no response. There were inthe University some twenty-five thousand students, no inconsiderable force, but the Rector refused to arm them for their monarch’s support. The burghers were similarly lacking in enthusiasm.
Marching in person to Paris Louis sacrificed a part of his army to engage the attention of the enemy whose forces he passed, and entered the city. His presence accomplished what his messages could not bring to pass. He and the queen reviewed a militia force of some 70,000 men, for the burghers became willing to fight for a king who had the good sense to ask their advice—even if he did not follow it—and he never failed to work for their esteem. For the first time in French history merit ranked position.
The story of Louis’ reign is a tale of fighting and intrigue, with a constantly increasing settlement of power in the monarch. Provinces fell into his hands; his enemies once in his grasp, never escaped. He was Louis the Spider, always weaving his webs, seldom doing it in vain. France had a greater feeling of unity now than before the English wars, and the power was still more solidly centralized in the crown.
Such activities left the king not much time for Paris. When he was there he lived in the Hôtel des Tournelles which Charles V had built, persisting in his affection for it although he was