BOOKS.

MISS PARDOE'S FRANCIS THE FIRST.* THIS work has a critical advantage over the writer's Louis the Four- teenth, in its greater wholeness. The materials have been better digested • unity is consequently more closely preserved; and, in the main, the' reader has the true subject and nothing else. As a merely amusing book, it is perhaps scarcely equal to its predecessor ; because the materials for piquant scandal and attractive gossip are far less rich, and Miss Pardowis hardly equal to the true historical style. In a certain sense, too, the subject lacks novelty. The great events in the first half of the sixteenth century, pregnant as they were with future consequences, and the close connexion which existed between the three remarkable Monarchs then at the head of European affairs, have rendered the reigns of Henry the Eighth, Francis the First, and the Emperor Charles, more or less known to the reader of either of them, from the manner in which the interests and actions of each affected those of the others. Hume, in his history of Henry the Eighth, has traced the outline of the French King's reign], with such a critical perception of the essential points, and such felicitous comprehension of narrative, that it is surprising bow little he has really left to be told beyond the filling up of the story. Robertson, in his Charles the Fifth, of necessity entered more fully into French affairs; and, independently of French histories, we have at least one life of Francis the First. These narratives, however, rather treat of the mo- narch and his statesmen than the man and his favourites. Miss Pardon aims at combining all ; and so far as plan and painstaking go, she has not been unsuccessful. The drawback is, that the first story has been told already, and there does not exist enough of original materials at once trustworthy and graphic to enable the second to be exhibited in the detailed manner which she has adopted, and which is probably best fitted for the theme, unless it be handled in a way very different from that of our modern lady historians.

It is an objection to an elaborate book of this character, especially when partaking more of history than memoirs, that the author is not alto- gether able to perceive the political philosophy of the period, or its social and individual characteristics. In a political sense, Francis was really the first King of France; for although all the great fiefs or principalities were annexed to the crown before his succession, he was the first monarch who actually ruled the French nation and wielded its full power. His reign, too, was a great turning-point of French history; that is, had Francis been a better or a more prudent man, the character of the people would probably have been better also. We do not mean that he could create or change a national character—that is beyond a monarch's or even a poet's power. But Francis was the type of the Frenchman; unfortunately, with a leaning to the worser side. His handsome and manly person, as preserved by the pencil of Titian, exhibits the comeli- ness, the grace, the style of the Gallic cavalier ; while the taste of the monarch or the artist stopped short of that gaudiness in apparel and that self-display which throw the air of the theatre over the French gentil- homme. The gallantry of Francis, his love of glory, his courage, carried to the verge of rashness and never directed by prudence, appealed to the hearts of his subjects ; for the King was what many of them were in degree, and what all would wish to be. His taste and munificence struck the fancy of a people who possess an innate love for splendour ; his indifference to cost set them a bad example ; and, unfortunately, that bad example hit them on a weak point. His patronage of literature and the arts flattered the vanity of his people, while it appealed to their higher qualities. His generosity and confidence, albeit verging on the theatrical, captivated men who are always taken by a "coup" whether of state or stage. His occasional vengeance, not so much for injury as for oppo- sition, and the cruelty which developed itself in his religious persecutions, especially towards the close of his life, when he hoped to propitiate God by torturing his creatures, showed that if he had not the traits of the mon- key, which Voltaire ascribed to his countrymen, he had some of the tiger. These personal qualities strongly developed were what enabled Francis to preserve internal peace in France during his reign and overwhelm all op- position ; for courage and capacity as great in degree, but of a different kind, might have failed to overawe the Parliaments and burgesses, ad to keep the still unbroken feudal nobility loyal. Had his shining talents been checked and balanced by those of a more solid character—had he even been somewhat touched by parsimony and hypocrisy—it would have been better for the nation and probably for posterity. The expenses of his wars and of his court ruined the finances and impaired the wealth and industry of France : the example of his licentiousness corrupted the morals of court and people ; his religious persecutions roused the lurk- ing cruelty of his countrymen. He died in time, scarcely in time perhaps, to escape the direct consequences of his ambition, his vices, and his weak- nesses: he bequeathed to his successors and his country a century of cad and religious warfare; from whose cruelty, devastations, and anarchy, the despotism of Louis the Fourteenth was a refuge. Miss Pardoe justly observes, that it has been too much the fashion to look at the splendid qualities of Francis the First, and to overlook the vices both of the man and the monarch. We think, however, his repu- tation has been built upon the national type of those qualities already alluded to, and the lower theoretical standard of morality in his own and succeeding ages compared with that of our day, as much as upon the enforced servility of writers. The facts were accessible to her predecessors ; it is only the judgment that was in fault : if Voltaire and other Frenchmen of the last century were terrified from passing a true opinion on French history, foreign writers were secure. It is more extraordinary that the immediate punishment of the monarch by mato of his vices themselves has been overlooked. His yielding disposition to * The Court and Reign of Francis the First, King of France- By Miss refdo, Author of " Lows XIV.," "The City of the Sultan," Ste. Iatwo volumes. rublished by Bentley. favourites, especially to women, and his love of pleasure at any cost of time or money, were his two great defects; and grievously did he pay for them- Military glory was a great object of his life: but the defeat and surrender of Pavia, the reverses and disgraces that clouded the close of his career, overshadowed the glories of Afarignano, and severely punished the obstinacy and neglect which caused them. The possession of the Milanese was almost a passion with Francis: he not only lost it, but lost it disgracefully, by the cruelties and corruption which his neglect permitted. The affronts he offered to Bourbon, and the injustice he allowed his mother and his Chancellor to exercise against that popular and successful soldier, were bitterly revenged by the defeat of Pavia, the captivity of Madrid, and the stain which his (politically necessary) vio- lation of treaty and oaths left upon the honour of Francis. When it is remembered to what an extent he carried his notions of kingly prerogative and his idea of the personal supremacy of a king, we may judge how the iron entered his soul when he sank before the fortune and ability of his

rebel subject. This is Miss Pardoe's account of that striking scene ; a little coloured by the taste of the litterateur, but effective.

"The battle had scarcely lasted throughout an hour, and already it was de- cided. A few feet sf that field which he had confidently hoped would insure to him the undying glory of a conqueror, were all that remained to Francis; but even for these few feet he still contended gallantly. With his own hand he had cut down the Marquis de St. Angelo, the last descendant of Scanderbeg, and un- horsed the Chevalier d'Andelot, besides dealing vigorous blows upon others of less note during the earlier period of the battle; and now, when he fought rather against hope than from any anticipation of success, his aim continued as true and his hand as steady as though an empire still hung on the result of his prowess. He was already bleeding profusely from three wounds, one of which had tra- versed his forehead and caused him acute pain, when his horse was shot under Mai, and he fell to the ground beside six of his assailants, all of whom had been struck down by his own sword on the same spot. Enfeebled as he was, he suc- ceeded in disengaging himself from his dead charger; and once more leaping into the saddle of a led horse, which had been prepared in the event of such an emer- gency, Ile turned one long and regretful glance upon the chivalrous little group who had so lately formed his best bulwark, but who were now scattered over the plain in a desperate attempt to evade the troops of Bourbon ; and, striking his spurs into the flanks of the animal, he galloped off in the direction of the bridge across the Ticino, ignorant that former fugitives had destroyed it after they had effected their own passage. At the moment in which he made this unfortunate discovery, he was encountered by four Spanish riflemen, who at once sprang to his bridle, and prevented all Maher attempts at escape. Providentially they had expended their ammunition ; but one of the number, tearful that a prisoner whose high rank was apparent from the richness of his costume, should elude their grasp, struck the panting horse of the King over the head with the stock of his rifle, and thus precipitated both the animal and his rider into a ditch by the way- side.

"This cowardly act was scarcely accomplished, when two Spanish light-horse- men, Diego d'Abila and Juan d'Urbieta, arrived upon the spot ; and, being struck by the extreme richness of the King's apparel, and the order of St. Michael with which he was decorated, they at once agreed that the captive was no common prize, and insisted upon their proportion of the ransom-money. The situation of Francis was perilous in the extreme, fur we have already stated that the gallant and veteran Marechal de la Paiice had been wantonly murdered under precisely the same circumstances; but, as

' There's a divinity doth hedge a king,'

so did that special Providence preserve the defeated Monarch in this fearful crisis of his fate. Horsemen were heard approaching rapidly ; the rattling of armour and the clang of weapons announced a numerous party; and in the next instant, M. de Pomperant, the friend and confidant of Bourbon, and M. de la Motto des Moyers, a gentleman of his household, at the head of a troop of men-at-arms, checked; their horses beside the group. One glance sufficed to assure them both that the wounded and exhausted man, from whose brow the blood was still streaming over his glittering surcoat, was the French Monarch; and, putting aside the wrangling soldiers, M. de Pomperant sprang from his horse, and threw himself at the feet of the King, beseeching him not further to endanger his exist- ence by a resistance which was alike hopeless and desperate.

"Faint and subdued alike by fatigue, suffering, and bitter feeling, Francis leant for an instant upon his sword as if in deliberation. 'Rise, Sir,' he said at length; 'tit is mockery to kneel to a captive king. I am ready to share the fate of the brave men who have fallen with me. To whom can I resign my sword ? ' "'The Duke de Bourbon is on the field, Sire,' murmured Pomperant with averted eyes. "'Not so, Sir,' replied the Monarch haughtily, as he once more stood proudly erect. This sword is that of France; it cannot be intrusted to a traitor. Rather would I die a thousand deaths than that my honour should be so sullied.' "'The Viceroy of Naples, Sire—' was the next timid suggestion.

"'So let it be,' said the Monarch coldly; 'he has, at least, not disgraced his own. To M. deLcumoy I may deliver it without shame.' "This concession made, La Motte galloped back to the field, to announce the surrender of the French King, and to summon the Neapolitan Viceroy; not omit- ting at the same time to spread the welcome intelligence as he went, and to in- quire for the Duke de Bourbon. Thus, only a brief time elapsed ere large bodies of men were on their way to the spot where Francis, still attended by Pomperant and guarded by the six troopers, remained calmly awaiting their arrival. The Scot general who reached it was the Marquis del Guasto, who approached the Mo- narch with an air of respectful deference; to which Francis replied with a courte- sy as dignified as it was frank; immediately addressing him by name, and ex- pressing a hope that he had escaped unhurt. The immediate care of the Mar- quis was to disperse the crowd of soldiers who were rapidly collecting about the Person of the King; after which he resumed his position a little in the rear on his right hand; and after the hesitation of a moment, Francis, with a faint smile and a steady voice, again spoke. "'I have one favour to claim at your hands, M. del Guasto,' he said. 'For- tune has favoured your master, and 1 mast submit; but I would fain pray you not to conduct me to Pavia. I could ill brook to be made a spectacle to the citi- zens who have suffered so much at my hands. Allow me to become, for a time at least, your own guest.'

" am at the orders of your Majesty, and deeply sensible of the honour that is conferred upon me,' replied the fitvourite of Charles. A fresh horse was then led forward; the stirrup was held by Del Guaato, bareheaded ; and Francis once more mounted, and, escorted by the troop of the Spanish General, traversed the camp, in order to reach the quarters of his new host.

"Medical aid was instantly procured; his wounds were dressed ; and it was dis- covered that, in addition to the harts which he had received, his cuirass WRS in- dented in several places by balls, one of which had been so well aimed, and had entered so deeply into the metal, that his life had only been preserved by a relic which be wore suspended from a gold chain about his neck, and against which the force of the ball had expended itself. " The operations of the surgeons were scarcely completed ere the Marquis de Pescara entered the tent; who saluted the King coldly but respectfully; and he was shortly followed by Lannoy; to whom Francis, with the mien rather of a conqueror than a captive, at once tendered his sword. The Viceroy bent his knee' as he received it; and having deferentially kissed the band by which it was ten- dered, immediately presented the ring with another weapon. The next general who appeared was Bourbon, still in complete armour, with his visor closed, and carrying his reeking sword unsheathed in his hand. As he approached, the King inquired his name; to which Pescara replied that it was Charles of Bourbon; upon which Francis stepped a pace backward, as if to avoid his contact, and Pescara advancing at the same moment, demanded the Duke's sword. Bourbon at once de- livered it up; and then raising his visor, cast himself upon his knees before Fran- cis, and humbly craved permission to kiss the royal hand. The indignant Mo- narch coldly and proudly refused to receive this act of homage; and his scorn so deeply wounded the ex-Connetable, that he exclaimed, bitterly and almost re- proachfully, Ab, Sir, had you but followed my advice, you had never been here and thus; nor so much of the best blood of France reeking upon the plains of Italy.'

"For a moment Francis fixed his eyes sternly upon the prostrate figure before him, and then raising them to heaven, he said impatiently, Patience—only grant me patience, since fortune has deserted use—'

" This trying interview was terminated by Pescara; who intimated to the King that he must within an hour hold himself in readiness to mount, as he should have the honour of escorting him to Pavia before nightfall. The lip of the Mo- narch quivered for a second, and his cheek bleached, but he was too proud to reiterate a request which bad been disregarded; arid the Imperialist Generals had. no sooner withdrawn than he occupied himself in writing to his mother the cele- brated letter which has been so often declared to have consisted only of the brief and emphatic sentence, 'Madame, tout eat perdu fors l'honneur'; but which Sis- mondi affirms, on the authority of a MS. chronicle of Nicaise Ladam, King-at- arms of Charles V., and the Parliamentary registers of the 10th of November, to have been as wordy and diffuse as his ordinary epistles, aud to have merely con- tamed a version of the phrase of which modern historians have represented it en- tirely to consist."

Miss Pardoe's style varies a good deal with its subject. To the philo- sophy of politics or government she cannot rise ; and her narrative of tactics and strategy is none of the clearest. She is more at home in in- dividual exploits, tales of gallantry, or courtly scenes and processions; but she sometimes injures these by the arts of the fictionist, and intro- duces dialogues that could not have been reported, as if she were writing an historical romance. That she does not always invent the speeches or conversations she uses, is nothing to the purpose, when they suggest the idea of obvious untruth, or flatten the force and dignity of the character. The knighting of Francis by Bayard, after the battle of Mariguano, is an example. The points in the speech of the knight is all that were required.

" On the Friday evening, the same upon which this letter was written, the whole camp was loud with rejoicing, and the bearing of each separate leader was warmly discussed; when it was generally admitted that Bayard was the hero of the two days, as he had ever been in the field of honour; and Francis himself was so fully impressed with the same conviction, that before the night set in, he resolved, pre- viously to creating knights with his own hand, to receive knighthood himself at that of Bayard: the romantic tastes in which he loved to indulge having caused him to overlook the fact that every monarch of France WAS necessarily understood to be a knight even from the cradle.

"Nevertheless', the ceremony must have been an imposing one, as the young King stood upon the battle-field where he had subdued his enemies, in the midst of the brave and devoted chivalry of a great nation: the dead, who had fallen in his cause, yet unearthed; the living, who had fought beside him, still at their post; the gallant men who survived the conflict marshalled about him, gird- ing with their strength the proud group clustered about their youthful and fear- less and victorious sovereign; the banners of their beloved France streaming upon the air, and the weapons which had so well and so recently done their duty gleaming on all sides; feathers streaming, proud war-horses champing the bit, and the artillery-men leaning upon their guns, now dark and silent.

"Mistaken as the act may have been, and worse than supererogatory in a power- ful monarch, the scene must nevertheless have been one to make high hearts leap, and bold brows flush, as Francis called Bayard to his side, and, with the no- ble and endearing courtesy familiar to him, declared his intention of being there and then knighted, by the hand of a warrior esteemed one of the most renowned not only of his own nation but of all Christendom; and, despite the disclaimers of his astonished subject, he persisted in his determination.

" 'In good sooth, Sire,' then exclaimed Bayard, who would have held further objections to the command of his sovereign as discourteous and irreverent, 'since it is your royal pleasure that this should be, I am ready to perform your will, not once, but many times, unworthy as I am of the high office to which you have ap- pointed me '; and, grasping his sword proudly and firmly, he continued, as the young King bent his knee, 'May my poor agency be as efficacious as though the ceremony were performed by Oliver, Godfrey, or Baldwin; although, in good truth, you are the first prince whom I have ever dubbed a knight; and God grant that you may never turn your back upon an enemy.' Then brandishing his good wea- pon, and glancing sportively at it, as the last rays of evening flashed upon its polished blade, he apostrophized it as though it were a thing of life, which could participate in his own hilarity of spirit, exclaiming, Thou art fortunate indeed today, that thou haat been called upon to confer knighthood upon so great and powerful a monarchs; and certes, my trusty sword, thou shalt henceforth be care- fully guarded as a relic, honoured above all others; and Shalt never be unsheathed again, save it be against the Infidel!' Then, lowering the point with reverence, he thrust it back into its scabbard, amid the enthusiastic shouts of the excited army."

We end our quotations with the close of the career of Francis himself; in which, indeed, is also to be read the moral of his life ; for he died at little more than fifty, the victim of his own excesses.

"The flame and the wheel were still in full operation in France, when, in January 1547, news arrived at St. Germain-en-Laye, where the court was then sojourning, of the death of Henry VIII.; an event which produced the most fatal effect alike upon the moral and physical temperament of the French King. He had long indulged the hope that Henry, whose rupture with the Emperor had ren- dered it necessary for him to strengthen his position, would be desirous of enter- ing into a closer alliance with himself; while at the same time the similarity, not only of their ages, but also in many respects of their several characters, com- bined with a consciousness that the disease under which he WRS then suffering was daily becoming more virulent, filled him with alarm. He felt a conviction that L6 own end was approaching ; and he became nervous and depressed. He commanded that a solemn funeral service should be performed at the cathedral of Notre Dame in honour of the deceased monarch; a ceremony which took place with great pomp; and then, in order to divert the melancholy that was rapidly gaining upon him, accompanied by a slow fever which robbed him of all rest, Francis, who could no longer brook a moment of inaction, removed to La Mnette, a country-house which he had recently embellished, on the borders of the forest of St. Germain. There he sojourned for a whole week: bat his mind was in so unsettled a state that he could not long remain upon one spot ; and he accord- ingly!: m fee ded to Villepreux; where an increase of his fever induced him to travel the following day to Darnpierre, near Chavreene' ; and thence he pursued his way in order to pass the period of Lent at Limoun. Throughout the whole of this time be was accompanied by the court; but even his favourites now sought in vain to arouse him from the lethargy into which he was rapidly falling. Nowhere could he find peace; and after having spent three days at Limours, he once more removed to Rochefort, where he endeavoured to amuse himself by hunting. To this violent exercise, however, his strength was no longer equal; and every even. lug his fever increased to a degree which alarmed those about him so greatly that they urged his return to St. Germain-en-Laye.

"After some difficulty the physicians succeeded in obtaining his consent to this measure, by representing that he could travel slowly, and indulge in his favourite pursuit by the way; and be accordingly left Rochefort for Rambouillet, where he had decided to remain only one night; but the game proved so plentiful, and the sport so exciting, that he was induced to change his resolution. Two or three days were consequently spent in field-sports, in which once more Catherine de' Medici participated: but the fever of the King, which had hitherto been intermit- tent, became, by reason of this perpetual exertion, continuous; and his malady increased so rapidly that it was found impossible for him to proceed further.

"Once apprized of his danger, Francis summoned the Dauphin to his sick-bed, and conversed with him at intervals for several hours; giving him the most wholesome advice concerning the future government of the kingdom over which he must so soon be called upon to rule; and consequently, like many other mo- narchs, be, in this supreme moment, gainsaid in almost every particular the system which he had himself pursued. He recommended him to diminish the public taxes under which the nation was then groaning; to be guided in all things by the Cardinal de Tournon and the Admiral d'Annebant; and, above all, to ex- clude from his confidence the Connetable de Montmorenci and the family of the Duke de Guise. He then received the sacraments of the church; and his per- secutions of the Protestants had apparently convinced him so thoroughly of his own salvation, that be expired peazefully, while the ashes of his victims were still floating between earth and heaven."