Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 62, No. 383, September 1847

Mr James cannot be considered as a historical writer of the highest class. He gives a spirited and agreeable narrative of the events of the reign or period which he has undertaken to describe, and in many passages the descriptive powers of the romance writer are strikingly conspicuous. He is diligent and worthy in the consultation of authorities, and free from any undue bias in the drawing of characters or narrative of events. But he has neither the philosophic glance of Guizot, nor the military fire of Napier, nor the incomparable descriptive powers of Gibbon. His merit, and it is a very great one, consists in the lucid and spirited telling of the story, interspersed with interesting descriptions of the scenes of the leading incidents, and dramatic portraiture of the principal characters. His greatest fault – no trifling one – is the perplexity produced in the mind of the reader by the want of proper grouping and arrangement, and the introduction of a vast number of characters and events at once into the story, without any preparatory description, to enable him to appreciate the one or understand the other. This is a very natural error for a romance writer to fall into when he undertakes history; because, in novels, where characters are few, and the events only such as happen to them, there is no need of previous preparation of the reader's mind, of such grouping and perspective, for the simplification and illustration of events. But, in history, where the events are so numerous and complicated, and each actor in general occupies only an inconsiderable portion of the canvass, it is indispensable, if the writer would avoid prolixity of details, or achieve that object so well known to artists, which they denominate breadth of effect.

Biography should be, and when properly handled is, the most interesting branch of historical composition. It has the immense advantage – the value of which can only be properly appreciated by those who undertake to write general history – of being limited to the leading characters who have appeared on the theatre of the world, and consequently steering clear of the intermediate periods of uninteresting or tedious occurrence. How to get over these without exhausting the patience of his readers, on the one hand, or incurring the reproach of omitting some events of importance, on the other, is the great difficulty of general history. The biographer seizes the finest points of the story; he dwells only on the exploits of his hero, and casts the rest into the shade. If this style of composition does not afford room for those general and important views on the general march of events, or progress of our species, which constitute the most valuable part of the highest branch of history, it presents much greater opportunities for securing the interest of the general reader, and awakening that sympathy in the breast of others, which it is the great object of the fine arts to produce. It has one immense advantage – it possesses unity of subject, it is characterised by singleness of interest. The virtues or vices, the triumphs or misfortunes, the glories or ruin of one individual, form the main subject of the narrative. It is on them that the attention of the writer is fixed; it is to enhance their interest that his efforts are exhausted. The actions of others, the surrounding events, only require to be displayed in so far as they bear upon, or are connected with the exploits of the hero. But as great men usually appear in, or create by their single efforts, important eras in the annals of mankind, it rarely happens that the characters selected for biography are not surrounded by a cluster of others, which renders their Lives almost a general history of the period during which they communicated their impress to the events of the world; and thus their biography combines unity of interest with the highest importance in event.

This was pre-eminently the case with the history of Henry IV. of France. So important, indeed, were the events crowded into his lifetime, so great and lasting have been the consequences of his triumph, so prodigious the impulse which his genius communicated, not only to his own country, but to Europe, that he may almost be said to have created an era in modern times. The first of the Bourbon family, he was, in truth, the founder of the French monarchy, in one sense of the term. He first gave it unity, consistence, and power; he first rendered it formidable to the liberties of Europe. Before his time, during the reigns of the princes of the House of Valois, it was rather a cluster of separate and almost independent feudatories, than a compact and homogeneous empire. So powerful were these great vassals, so slender the force which the crown could command to control them, that France on many occasions made the narrowest possible escape from sharing the fate of Germany, and seeing in its chief nobles – the Dukes of Burgundy and Brittany, the Counts of Toulouse – independent monarchs rendering, like the electors of Brandenberg, Saxony, and Bavaria, only a nominal allegiance to their feudal superior. The religious wars, which broke out with the Reformation, still farther increased the divisions, and severed the ties of this distracted kingdom.

The contest of the rural nobility of the south, attached to the new opinions as fervently as the Scottish Covenanters, with the more numerous and concentrated Roman Catholics of the north, who clung with superstitious tenacity to the pomp and ceremonies of the ancient worship, continued through several successive generations, not only drenched the kingdom with blood, but altered the character, and obliterated the virtues of its inhabitants. Revenge became the only passion that retained its sway over the human heart; cruelty so common, that its atrocity was no longer perceived. The massacre of St Bartholomew, that lasting and indelible stain on ancient, as the massacre in the prisons, and the Reign of Terror, are on modern French history, is not to be regarded as the work of a blood-thirsty tyrant, aided by a corrupt and perfidious court. The public crimes of the rulers of men never can exceed, except by a few degrees, those for which the nation is prepared. It is the frenzy of the general mind which suggests and renders practicable the atrocious deeds, by which, happily at long intervals from each other, the annals of mankind are stained. The proscriptions of the Triumvirate, the alternate slaughters of Marius and Sylla, the massacre of St Bartholomew, the auto-da-fes of Castile, the reign of the Duke of Alva in Flanders, the butchery of the wars of the Roses in England, the blood shed by Robespierre in France, all proceeded from a frenzied state of the public mind, which made the great body of the people not only noways revolt at, but cordially support those savage deeds, at which, when recounted in the pages of history, all subsequent ages shudder. Even the massacre of St Bartholomew, perhaps the most atrocious, because the most cold-blooded and perfidious, of all those horrid deeds, excited at the time no feeling of indignation in the Roman Catholic party throughout Europe. On the Contrary, it was universally and cordially approved of by those of that persuasion in every country, as a most effectual and expedient, and withal justifiable way of lopping off a gangrened arm from the body politic, and extinguishing a pestilent heresy. The discharges of the cannon from the castle of St Angelo, and the Te Deum sung in St Peter's, on the arrival of the glorious intelligence, by the Head of the faithful at Rome, were re-echoed by the acclamation – without, so far as appears, a single exception – of the whole Romish world.[19 - See Capefigue, Hist. de la Ligue et de Henry IV., iii. 239. He is a Roman Catholic writer, and therefore cannot be suspected of Huguenot partiality, or aversion to the Church of Rome.]

It was the cessation of the hideous scenes of bloodshed and massacre which had signalised the civil wars in the reigns of the Valois princes, and the religious dissensions that succeeded them, which gave Henry IV. his great and deserved reputation. Like Napoleon, he calmed, by his acquisition of the throne, the passions of a nation in arms against itself. The hereditary feuds, the dreadful retaliations, the mutual proscriptions, the fierce passions, the frightful revenge of the feudal and Huguenot wars, were stilled as if by the wand of a mighty enchanter.

Henry IV. was the man of his age; and hence it was that he achieved this prodigy. His mental and physical qualities were precisely those which his time demanded; and it was this combination which enabled him to achieve his astonishing success. Bold, active, and enterprising, he presented that mixture of warlike virtues with chivalrous graces which it is the great object of romance to portray, and which may be said to form the ideal of the European character. He possessed that individual gallantry, that personal daring, that spontaneous generosity, which, even more than commanding intellectual qualities, succeed in winning the hearts of mankind. Ever the foremost in attack, the last in retreat, he excelled his boldest knights in personal courage. The battle-field was to him a scene of exultation. He had the true heroic character. Like the youth in Tacitus, he loved danger itself, not the rewards of valour. Nor were the mental qualities and combinations requisite in the general awanting. On the contrary, he possessed them in the very highest degree. Active, enterprising, indefatigable, he was ever in the field with the advanced guard, and often ran the greatest personal danger from his anxiety to see with his own eyes the position or forces of the enemy. His skill in partisan strife, on which so much of success in war then depended – in the surprise of castles, the siege of towns, the capture of convoys, the sudden irruption into territories, equalled all that poetry had conceived of the marvellous. His deeds, as narrated by the cool pen of Sully, resemble rather the fabulous exploits of knight-errantry than the events of real life. It was thus, by slow degrees and painful efforts, that he gradually brought up his inconsiderable party, at first not a fourth part of the forces of the League, to something like a level with his formidable opponents; and at length was enabled to rout them in decisive battles, and establish his fortunes on a permanent foundation in the fields of Arques and Ivry.

The contest at first appeared to be so unequal as to be altogether hopeless. Though the undoubted heir to the crown, his forces, when the succession opened to him by the assassination of Henry III., were so inconsiderable compared to those of the League, that it seemed impossible that he could fight his way to the throne. The Huguenots were only two millions of souls, and the Roman Catholics were eighteen millions. The latter were in possession of the capital, wielded the resources of its rich and ardent population, and had all the principal towns and strongholds of the kingdom in their hands. It was in the distant provinces, especially of the south, that the strength of the Protestants lay: their forces were the lances of the rural nobility, and the stout arms of the peasants in Dauphiny, the Cevennes, and around La Rochelle. But all history, and especially that of France, demonstrates how inadequate in general are the resources of remote and far-severed provinces to maintain a protracted contest with an enemy in possession of the capital, the fortresses, and ruling the standing army of the kingdom. The forces of the Catholics in this instance were the more formidable, that they were warlike and experienced, trained to the practical duties of soldiers in previous civil wars, united in a league which, like the Solemn League and Covenant in Scotland, formed an unseen bond uniting together the most distant parts of the monarchy, and directed by the Duke of Guise, a leader second to none in capacity and daring, and equal to any in ruthless energy and unscrupulous wickedness.

It was the personal qualities, heroic spirit, and individual talents of the King which enabled him to triumph over this formidable combination. Never was evinced in a more striking light the influence of individual gallantry and conduct on national fortunes; or a more convincing illustration of the undoubted truth, that when important changes are about to be made in human affairs, Providence frequently makes use of the agency of individual greatness. But for Henry's capacity and determination, the Protestants would have been crushed, and the civil war terminated in the first campaign. But, like all other illustrious men, he became great in the school of adversity. His energy, resources, and perseverance triumphed over every difficulty, extricated him from every peril, and at length enabled him to triumph over every opposition. It was his wonderful partisan qualities – the secrecy, skill, and daring of his enterprises, which first laid the foundation of his fortune, by drawing to his standard many of those restless spirits, let loose over the country by the former wars, who in every age are attracted by the courage, capacity, and liberality of a leader. He was thus enabled to augment the little army of the Huguenots by a considerable accession of bold and valuable soldiers from the opposite faith, but who cared more for the capacity of their leader than for either the psalms of the Huguenots or the high mass of the Catholics.

By degrees, many even of the Romish nobility, penetrated with admiration at the manner in which the heir of the crown combated for his rights, joined his standard, in the secret hope that when he came to the throne he would revert to the faith of the majority of his subjects. He won all hearts, even in the enemy's ranks, by his generosity, humanity, and heroic spirit. The soldiers worshipped the hero who shared all their hardships, and whose greatest pleasure was ever to be the first in advancing into the enemy's fire; the officers were filled with enthusiasm for the prince who treated them all with the hearty courtesy of the camp, and claimed no distinction save that which all felt to be due to pre-eminent valour and never-failing capacity. Even his weaknesses augmented the general interest in his character; and when it was known that the leader whose exploits riveted the attention of all Europe, not unfrequently stole from the council-board or the tent to pursue some fugitive fair one through a forest, or subdue the obduracy of high-born beauty, by watching all night before her castle walls, the age of romance seemed to have returned to the earth, and all hearts were interested in the hero who appeared to unite the greatness of ancient patriotism with the spirit of modern chivalry.

Nor did Henry's conduct, when he had taken Paris and conquered the throne, belie the expectations formed by this brilliant dawn of his career. He proved not merely a warrior, but the father of his people. Great projects of amelioration were set on foot – greater still were in preparation, when he perished by the hand of Ravaillac. His celebrated saying, that he "hoped to see the time when every peasant should have his fowl in his pot," reveals the paternal spirit of his government. It is vain to say these were the acts of his ministers; that Sully was the real sovereign. The answer of Queen Elizabeth, when the success of her reign was imputed to the capacity of her ministers, "Did you ever know a fool choose a wise one?" affords the decisive reply to all such depreciatory attempts. Under his beneficent rule, industry was protected, commerce revived; canals, roads, and bridges penetrated the country in every direction; and, most marvellous of all, religious schisms were healed and religious fury stilled. The abjuration by the successful monarch of the faith in which he had been bred, and the warriors of which had combated for him, was unquestionably a measure called for, in a temporal view, by the interest of his dominions at the time, not less than by his own tenure of the throne. When it is recollected that the Huguenots did not at that period exceed two millions, among twenty which France contained, it becomes at once apparent, that, in a country so recently convulsed by the passions of religious and civil dissension, conformity with the faith of the great majority was the sole condition on which tranquillity could have been restored, discord appeased, a stable government established, or the crown transmitted to the descendants of the reigning monarch. And, while his biographer must lament the necessity to which he was subjected, of bending religious conviction to political expedience, all must admire the wisdom of the Edict of Nantes, which, without shocking the prejudices of the Catholics, secured liberty of conscience and just immunities to the Protestants; and which, if adhered to by succeeding monarchs, on the equitable spirit in which it had been conceived by its author, would probably have left the direct heirs of Henry IV. still on the throne of France, and averted all the bloodshed and horrors of the Revolution.

Henry IV., however, was not a perfect character; had he been so, he would not have been a child of Adam. He had the usual proportion of the weaknesses, some of the faults, of humanity. They were, for the most part, however, of that kind which are nearly allied to virtues, and to which heroic characters have, in every age, in a peculiar manner been subject. Heroism, love, and poetry, ever have and ever will be found united: they are, in truth, as Lamartine has expressed it, twin sisters of each other; they issued at a single birth from the same parents. We may regret that it is so; but if we do, we had better extend our regrets a little farther, and lament that we are not all immaculate as our First Parents were in the bowers of Paradise. His irregularities are universally known, and have, perhaps, rendered him as celebrated in France as his warlike exploits or pacific virtues; for they fell in with the prevailing passion of the nation, and were felt by all to be some excuse for their own indulgences. They are celebrated even in the well-known air which has become, in a manner, the National Anthem: —

"Vive Henri IV.!
Vive le roi vaillant!
Ce Diable à quatre
A le triple talent
De boire et de battre,
Et d'être vert galant."

Henry IV., however, had more apology than most men for these frailties. He lived in an age, and had been bred up in a court, in which female virtue was so rare that it had come to pass for a chimera, and licentious indulgence so frequent that it had become a habit, and ceased to be a subject of reproach. Naturally ardent, susceptible, and impetuous, he was immersed in a society in which intrigue with high-born beauty was universally considered as the great object and chief employment of life. The poetry and romances which were in every hand inculcated nothing else. His own Queen, Margaret of Valois, gave him the first example of such irregularities, and while she set no bounds to her jealousy of his mistresses, particularly La Belle Gabrielle, who so long held the monarch captive, she had no hesitation in bestowing her own favours on successive lovers with as little scruple as the King himself. In some instances, however, he was more completely inexcusable. It is remarkable that the attachments of Henry became more violent as he advanced in life, and had attained the period when the passions are usually found to cool. In some instances they impelled him into acts of vehemence and oppression wholly unworthy of his character and heart. His passion, late in years, for the young Princess of Condé – a child of seventeen, who might have been his granddaughter – and which prompted her flight with her husband to the Low Countries, on which he was preparing war for her recovery when cut short by death, was ridiculous in one of his age, and grossly criminal to one in her circumstances. But these passions pursued him to the very last; and when his tomb was broken open, and remained exposed, by the Parisian mob during the fury of the Revolution, the nicely combed and highly perfumed beard, the scent of which filled the air, proved that the dagger of Ravaillac had struck him while still immersed in the frivolities which tarnished his heroic exploits.[20 - Lamartine's Histoire des Girondins, vii. 374. We hope ere long to make our readers acquainted with this magnificent work.]

In truth, without detracting from the many great and good qualities of the hero of the Bourbon family, it may safely be affirmed that his fame in subsequent times has been to the full as great as he deserved. Many circumstances have contributed to this happy partiality of subsequent times. His reign was filled with great and glorious actions; and that endeared him to the heroic and the brave. His court was the abode of gallantry – his life devotion to beauty; and that won for him the applause of the fair. He did wonders, and designed still greater, for the internal improvement of his dominions and the increase of his people's happiness; and that secured for him the approbation of the philanthropic and thoughtful. He gained for the Protestants religious freedom and immunity from persecution; and that secured their eternal gratitude. He restored to the Church of Rome the religious supremacy which had been so fiercely disputed, and in so many other countries had been lost; and that shut the mouths of the Catholics. He stilled the fury of civil, and pacified the fierceness of religious discord; and that justly won for him the gratitude of all. His reign formed a bright contrast to the frightful civil wars and universal bloodshed which had preceded it. Like Napoleon, he closed the gulf of revolution; and the admiration of subsequent times was the worthy meed of the inestimable service thus rendered to humanity. They have not diminished, perhaps exaggerated, the tribute. He was the first of a race of sovereigns who for two centuries sat in the direct line on the throne of France, and the collateral descendants of whom still hold it. Family partiality, courtly panegyric, thus came to be largely mingled with the just tribute of a nation's gratitude. The writers of other countries, particularly England and Germany, joined in the chorus of applause to the prince who had secured to the Protestant faith its just rights in so important a kingdom as France. The vices or weakness of subsequent sovereigns – the feeble rule of Louis XIII.; the tyrannical conduct, the splendid talents of Louis XIV.; the corruptions of the Regent Orleans; the disgraceful sensuality of Louis XV.; the benevolent heart, but passive resignation of Louis XVI. – rose up successively in striking contrast to his heroic deeds, vigorous government, and equitable administration. But, without disregarding the influence of these circumstances in brightening the halo which still surrounds the memory of Henry IV., the sober voice of distant and subsequent history must pronounce him one of the greatest princes who have adorned modern history, and certainly the greatest, after Charlemagne and Napoleon, who ever sat on the throne of France.

But it is time to put a period to this general disquisition, to give some extracts from the work of our author, in justice both to its own merits and the character of the hero which it is intended to portray.

Mr James gives the following interesting particulars concerning the birth and early years of Henry: —

"The Duchess of Vendome was at this time with her husband in Picardy, but at her father's summons she set out for the south of France in the wintry month of November; and, displaying that hardy and vigorous constitution which she transmitted to her son, she traversed the wide extent of country which lay between the extreme frontier of France and her father's territories in the short space of eighteen days, arriving at Pau not quite a fortnight before the birth of her third child. There is reason to believe that various motives, besides that attachment to her parent which she had always displayed, induced Jeanne d'Albret to undertake so long and fatiguing a journey at so critical a period. Information had reached her, we find, that the King of Navarre had fallen under the influence of a lady of Bearn, who had employed her power over his mind, as is usual in such connexions, to enrich herself; and also that the Prince, with weakness not uncommon even in great men, had made a will in favour of his mistress, which was likely to deprive his daughter and her husband of a considerable portion of their expected inheritance. The natural anxiety of Jeanne d'Albret to see this will was communicated by some of the court to the old King, and he in reply assured her that he would place it in her hands as soon as he beheld the child she was about to bear, upon the condition that she should sing him a song in the pains of labour: 'In order,' he said, 'that thou mayest not give me a crying and a puny child.'

"The Duchess promised to perform the task, and at the moment of the birth of her son, as soon as she heard her father's foot in the chamber, she saluted him with one of the songs of her native country. When the child was shown to him, Henry d'Albret took him joyfully in his arms, and remembering the sneer of the Spaniards, he exclaimed, as if with a foresight of what he would become, 'My sheep has borne me a lion!' Then giving his will to his daughter, he continued; 'There, my child, that is for thee, but this is for me,' – and carrying the boy, wrapped in a fold of his dressing gown, into his own chamber, he rubbed his lips with a piece of garlic, and gave him from his own golden cup some drops of wine.

"Whether the King of Navarre did or did not imagine, as has been asserted, that such unusual treatment of a newborn infant would ensure to his grandson a hardy and a vigorous constitution, it certainly indicated the course of education which he wished to be pursued; and nothing was left undone that could strengthen the corporeal frame of the young prince, and prepare him for the hardships and exertions of a military career. Though a strong and powerful child, some difficulty was at first found in rearing him; and, perhaps, too high a degree of anxiety in regard to his health, caused the frequent change of nurses, which was of course detrimental to the infant.

"Great rejoicings took place on the occasion of his baptism; and his grandfather displayed all the splendour of the little court of Navarre, which the Emperor Charles V. once declared, had received him in his passage through France with greater magnificence than any other court he had visited. His godfathers were Henry II. of France and Henry d'Albret of Navarre; and the rite, which was performed according to the usages of the Church of Rome, was administered by the Cardinal of Armagnac, Vice-legate of Avignon.

"From the castle of Pau the prince was speedily removed to that of Coarasse, situated nearly at the mouth of the beautiful valley of Lourdes; and there, under the immediate superintendence of his grandfather and a distant relation, Susannah de Bourbon, Baroness de Miossens, commenced that hardy education which lasted till after the death of the King of Navarre. That monarch, we are told by a contemporary author, 'reproached his daughter and son-in-law with having lost several of their children by French delicacies; and in fact,' the same writer goes on to say, 'he brought up his grandson after the fashion of Bearn, with naked feet and head, very often with as little refinement as peasants' children are nurtured.' No rich clothing, no playthings were given to him; and Henry d'Albret especially commanded that he should neither be flattered nor treated as a prince, but fed upon the ordinary diet of the country, and dressed in the simplest manner. He was allowed to climb the rocks and mountains, and try his limbs in robust exercises from the earliest period of life; and all that could be done to invigorate mind or body, appears to have been strictly attended to in his years of infancy."

At a subsequent period, when he had attained the era, and was engaged in the studies of youth, his character and pursuits are thus described.

"We learn that he was at this time a very lively, quick, and beautiful boy, full of vigour and activity of mind and body, apt to receive instruction, and giving every promise of attaining great proficiency in letters. La Gaucherie took every pains to render the study of the learned languages agreeable to him; not teaching him in the ordinary method, by filling his mind with long and laborious rules, difficult to remember, and still more difficult to apply, but following more the common course by which we acquire our maternal language; and storing his mind with a number of Greek and Latin sentences, which the Prince afterwards wrote down and analysed. The first work which he seems to have translated regularly was Cæsar's Commentaries; a version of several books of which was seen by the biographer of the Duke of Nevers in his own handwriting; and his familiarity with the Greek was frequently shown in the sports and pastimes of the court where mottoes in the learned languages were frequently required.

"It is customary for the historians and eulogists of great men to point out, after their acts have rendered them famous those slight indications which sometimes in youth give promise of future eminence; and thus, we are told the favourite motto, of Henry in his boyhood was, ἤ νικαν ἤ ἀποθανειν, to conquer or to die. The fact, however, is worthy of remark, not so much perhaps because it showed the boy's aspirations for military glory, as because his frequent use of this sentence seems to have created some uneasiness in the mind of Catherine de Medicis, who forbade his masters to teach him such apophthegms for the future, saying that they were only calculated to render him obstinate.

"It is not probable that the Queen-mother would have taken notice of such a sentence on the lips of any ordinary child; but it is evident, not only from the accounts of those biographers, whose works were composed after the Prince of Bearn had risen into renown as King of France, but by letters written while he was yet in extreme youth, that there was something in his whole manner and demeanour which impressed all those who knew him with a conviction of his future greatness. We shall have hereafter to cite several of these epistles, which give an accurate picture of the Prince at the age of thirteen years; but before that time he had undergone a long course of desultory instruction. At one period his education was carried on in the chateau of Vincennes, where he remained for more than a year with the royal children; and at another we find him studying in the college of Navarre, together with the Duke of Anjou, who afterwards became King under the name of Henry III., and with Henry, eldest son of the Duke of Guise, against whom he was destined to take so prominent a part in arms. At this early age, however, no enmity or rivalry was apparent between the three Princes; but on the contrary, to use the words of the memoirs of Nevers, the three Henrys had the same affection and the same pleasures, and always displayed for one another so uncommon a degree of complaisance, that not the slightest dispute took place between them during the whole time they were at the college. In regard to the course of instruction pursued with the Prince of Bearn we have no farther information, and only know that he acquired a sufficient knowledge of the Latin language to translate with ease all the best writers of Rome; and that he applied himself, though apparently with no great perseverance, to the art of drawing, in which he displayed a considerable degree of talent – the Duke of Nevers, or his biographer, having seen an antique vase which he had sketched in pen and ink with a masterly hand, and under which he had written, Opus principis otiosi."

The Massacre of St Bartholomew, which has given an infamous immortality to the name of Charles IX., was unquestionably the great cause of reviving the religious wars which in the early part of his reign seemed to have been in a great measure stilled. Mr James does not add much to the information on the subject already furnished by the French historians, but he sums it up in a dramatic and interesting manner.

Our space will not permit of our quoting the entire passage, and we shall rather proceed to the period when the assassination of Henry III. opened to the King of Navarre the throne of France. The situation of the monarch, when this brilliant but perilous succession opened to him, is thus justly described by Mr James: —

"The situation of Henry IV., on his accession to the throne, was probably the most perilous in which a new monarch was ever placed. The whole kingdom was convulsed, from end to end, by factions, the virulence of which against each other had been nourished during many years of civil war, and not one element of discord and confusion seemed wanting to render the state of turbulence and anarchy which existed of long duration. Not only the fierce and relentless spirit of religious fanaticism, not only the grasping cupidity of selfish and unprincipled nobles, not only the ambition of powerful and distinguished leaders entered as ingredients into the strange mass of contending passions which the country presented, but the long indulgence of lawless courses, the habits of strife and bloodshed, the want of universally recognised tribunals, the annihilation of external commerce, and the utter destitution of financial resources on all parts, seemed to place insurmountable obstacles in the way of any speedy restoration of order and prosperity.

"The capital was in a state of rebellion against its legitimate sovereign; the large towns were, in many instances, held forcibly by the party opposed to the great majority of the inhabitants; the small towns and villages were generally disaffected to the royal cause, or wavering between opposite factions; and the rural districts were divided in their affections, sometimes presenting three or four different shades of opinion within the space of as many leagues. One province was nearly entirely Protestant, another almost altogether Catholic, another equally divided between the two religions. The Parliament of Paris thundered against the Parliament of Tours; the partisans of the late king looked with scarcely less jealousy upon their new sovereign than upon their enemies of the League; and many of those who were indifferent upon the subject of religion, made it their first inquiry how they could sell their services to the best advantage.

"The preceding reigns had extinguished all respect for the law; the vices of the court had banished all notions of morality; and years of license had left barely the sense of common decency amongst the higher classes of the kingdom. Complete disorganisation, in short, existed throughout the whole fabric of society; and no common principle of action could be found as a permanent bond in uniting the members of any great party together. The League itself contained most discordant materials; but it was far more harmonious in its character than the great body of the Royalists; for community of religion at least afforded an apparent motive for combination where more substantial ties were wanting, while difference of faith in the camp of the King was at all times a pretext for dissensions which at any moment might produce disorders, if not actual hostility.

"Such was the state of affairs which Henry knew to exist at the moment when he received the announcement that he had so suddenly become King of France. The generous devotion, indeed, of a few loyal and high-minded men tended greatly to encourage him in the commencement of his career; but apprehension and perplexity must have been the first emotions by which he was affected on entering the Hotel de Gondi and learning that Henry III. was dead. He found still greater alarm, however, reigning amongst the courtiers of the late King. Everything was confusion and disarray, and his presence did not tend to produce harmony and order.

"The moment that his arrival was known, the Scotch guard came and threw themselves at his feet, exclaiming, 'Oh! Sire, you are now our king and our master;' and the active and energetic character of the monarch at once displayed itself in a remarkable manner. Without losing the time of action in thought, he applied himself to take advantage of the consternation of others, and secure the fidelity of the troops and of the court as far as possible, in order that the death of Henry III. might not altogether dissolve the bonds which held together the Royalist party, and overthrow the monarchy itself. He sent directly to the quarters of the Swiss and the French guard, to Marshal D'Aumont, to Biron, and to all in whom he could trust. He wrote during the same night to England, to Flanders, to Switzerland, Germany, and Venice, announcing his accession to the throne, stating his indisputable title, and requesting immediate aid to make it good against his enemies.

"But on entering the chamber of the deceased King a strange and fearful scene presented itself. The room was filled with the Catholic nobility of France; the minions were at the foot of the bed, with tapers in their hands, singing the service of the dead; and all the rest, 'amidst howlings of despair, were drawing down their hats, or casting them on the ground, clenching their fists, plotting together, giving each other the hand, making vows and promises, of which nothing was heard but the ending words – "rather die a thousand deaths."' One voice, however, gave the interpretation of all: a gentleman exclaiming aloud, at ten paces from the King, that he would rather give himself up to any enemies than suffer a Huguenot monarch."

The battle of Arques was the first in which the great martial and heroic qualities of the King were displayed in their full lustre; and there Mr James's animated pen finds a fit subject for description. We pass on, however, to the battle of Ivry, which was, if possible, yet more marvellous and decisive; for the superiority of force on the part of the League was still greater; and Henry's heroic band had dwindled away to little more than one of Napoleon's divisions.

"The numbers of the army of the League it is very difficult to discover, and, indeed, we can very seldom depend upon the statements even of contemporaries regarding the forces engaged in any battle. In one place, Davila reckons the army of Mayenne at four thousand five hundred horse, and twenty thousand foot; but he evidently greatly exaggerates the strength of the infantry, while Aubigné states the numbers at five thousand cavalry, and eight thousand foot, and Cayet says that Mayenne was accompanied by more than four thousand horse, and twelve thousand foot. Henry himself, in his despatch to Monsieur de la Verune, governor of Caen, does not venture even to guess at the numbers of his adversary, but merely says, that the prisoners state their army to have consisted of four thousand horse, and twelve thousand foot, thus confirming the account of Victor Cayet. The Royalist force did not amount to more than two thousand horse, and about eight thousand foot. Just as the battle was about to commence, however, Sully arrived from Pacy, bringing with him his own company, and two companies of English horse arquebusiers, under Colonel James. Several other reinforcements joined during the morning; and it cannot be doubted that the flocking in of zealous friends, while Henry occupied the plain of Ivry, tended greatly to encourage his forces, and to make them forget the superiority of the enemy. As at Coutras, the army of the League appeared covered with glittering trappings, lace and embroidery, while that of the King displayed nothing but cold gray steel.

"As soon as his troops had taken up their position, Henry rode along the line, mounted on a powerful bay charger, clothed in complete armour, but with his head bare, speaking words of hope and confidence to the soldiers, and exhorting them to show the same valour here that they had already displayed in many a perilous enterprise. His countenance was bold and fearless; but it was remarked, that, moved by his own words, his eyes more than once filled with tears. He represented to his troops, that the road to safety, as well as to glory, lay before them; that the crown of France depended upon their swords; that there were no new armies to fall back upon in case of defeat: no other nobles in France to take the field for him, if they who surrounded him should fail. He then put himself at the head of the line, where he could be seen by all, and heard by many, and with his hands clasped and his eyes raised to heaven, he exclaimed: 'I pray thee, oh God, who alone knowest the intentions of man's heart, to do thy will upon me as thou shalt judge necessary for the weal of Christendom, and to preserve me so long as thou knowest I am needful for the happiness and repose of this land, and no longer.' Then turning to his own squadron, he took his casque, surmounted by a large plume of white feathers, and said: 'Companions, God is with us, there stand his enemies and ours. Here is your king. Upon them! and if you lose your cornets, rally to my white plume. You will find it in the road to victory and honour.' During some part of the morning one of his officers remarked to him that he had provided no place of retreat, but Henry replied: 'There is no other retreat than the field of battle.'

"Before commencing the engagement, the King performed one of those generous and honourable acts, so well calculated to win all hearts, and carry the love of his people along with him. It would seem that Schomberg, who commanded the Germans in his service, had previously demanded the pay of his troops, which was long in arrear, and that Henry had replied sharply: 'No brave man ever asked for money on the eve of a battle.' At this moment of peril the King's heart smote him for what he had said; and approaching the old officer, he spoke thus: 'Monsieur de Schomberg, I have injured you. This day may be the last of my life, and I would not take away the honour of any gentleman. I know your valour and your merit, and I beseech you to pardon and embrace me.'

"'Sire,' answered Schomberg, 'you wounded me the other day it is true, but to-day you kill me; for the honour you do me will force me to die for your service.'

"It is probable that immediately after this incident a movement in advance, mentioned by the king in all his despatches, was made on the part of the royal army, for, till between ten and eleven o'clock, the forces of the League were at such a distance, that it was possible for Mayenne to avoid a battle. The King still apparently imagined that such might be his adversary's intention, for he says in his circular letter respecting the great victory of Ivry, that the enemy's troops having appeared still farther off than they had been on the preceding evening, he resolved to approach so close that they must of necessity fight; and having, in consequence, gone to seek them even to the spot where they had planted themselves, 'from which they never advanced but so far as was necessary to come to the charge,' the battle took place. Judging from this adherence to his position, and from the stillness of his skirmishers, that Mayenne was determined not to commence the engagement, Henry took advantage of an error which the Duke had committed in the choice of his ground, and which exposed his cavalry, scattered over the face of a slope. He accordingly ordered his artillery to open a fire upon the adverse squadrons, which was executed by M. de la Guiche with great precision and effect, nine discharges taking place before the Leaguers could fire a gun. Nearly at the same time, news was brought that Monsieur de Humières, Mouy, and about three hundred horse, were hurrying up to join the King, and were barely a mile distant; but Henry would not delay the engagement.

"The battle was now begun by the light horse advancing on the part of the League, followed by a heavy body of lanzknechts; but they were met in full career by Marshal D'Aumont, at the head of about three hundred men-at-arms, and driven back in confusion to the edge of the wood, called La Haye des près, where D'Aumont, according to the commands he had previously received from Henry, halted his small force, and returned in good order. While this was taking place on the left of the King's army, a body of reiters from the enemy's right, advanced against the light horse of Givri and the Grand Prior, but were repulsed; and having made their charge and fired their pistols, retired, as was the common practice of the German troopers, to form behind the men-at-arms. The Royalist light horse, however, had been thrown into some disorder by this attack, and were immediately after assailed by a squadron of heavy cavalry, consisting of Walloons and Flemings, who, with their long lances, bade fair to overthrow Givri and the Grand Prior, when the Baron de Biron, by a well-timed charge in flank, broke through their ranks, receiving two wounds in his advance. Montpensier now moved forward to encounter the same corps in front, and after having his horse killed under him, succeeded in restoring the advantage to the Royalists in that part of the field. Before this was accomplished, Mayenne, with the great bulk of his cavalry, advanced against the King himself. He was accompanied by Count Egmont, the Duke of Nemours, and the Chevalier D'Aumale, and had on his left a body of five hundred carabineers, on horseback, all picked men, well armed and mounted, who, galloping forward till they were within twenty yards of Henry's division, poured a tremendous fire upon it, and then gave place to the men-at-arms. At that moment, however, the King spurred on his horse two lengths before any of his troops, and, followed by his whole squadron, 'plunged,' to use the words of Aubigné, 'into the forest of lances,' which lay before him. Even that bitter satirist cannot avoid giving way to some enthusiasm in describing the charge of his royal master. 'By the first strokes,' he says, 'appeared what quality can effect against quantity.' For more than a quarter of an hour the struggle was fierce, and the small squadron of the King was lost to the sight of the rest of the army in the dense cloud of Mayenne's cavalry.

"At length the Leaguers were seen to waver; some fled, others followed, and in an instant after, all was rout and confusion amongst the immense body of horse, which a few minutes before had moved up so gallantly to the assault. But as the enemy fled from before him, Henry was exposed to a new danger, and found that the battle was not yet won. As he issued forth from the midst of the flying masses of Mayenne's horse, with but twelve or fifteen companions at his side, and exactly between the two regiments of adverse Swiss, three troops of Walloons, who as yet had not taken any share in the battle, appeared ready to charge his little band. D'Aumont, however, with the Grand Prior, Tremouille, and the gallant Givri, advanced to his deliverance, and this fresh body of cavalry was routed in a moment. In the heat of the mélée Henry's standard-bearer was killed, and one of his pages, who bore in his casque a white plume similar to that of the King, fell beside him. A report had spread instantly that the King was slain, and a momentary panic had seized the persons round the spot where he was supposed to have fallen. But when he reappeared from amidst the dense crowd of enemies, covered with blood and dust, a loud shout of 'Vive le Roi!' burst from the ranks of the Royalists, and added speed to the flight of the enemy. Marshal Biron, who had remained immoveable, watching the progress of the fight, and ready to act wherever a great necessity presented itself, now joined the monarch, saying, 'This day, sire, you have performed the part of Marshal Biron, and Marshal Biron that of the King.'

"'Let us praise God, Marshal,' answered Henry, 'for the victory is his.'"

Henry's generous temper, and, withal, turn for fun and drollery, is well depicted in the account of his forgiveness of Mayenne, the ablest of his opponents —

"In the meantime, negotiations went on for the reconciliation of the Duke of Mayenne with his sovereign. His demands were greater, perhaps, than were justified by his position; but Gabrielle d' Estrées, who was now with the monarch, exerted all her influence to render him favourable to the Duke, and Henry consented, at length, to a treaty, by which it was declared, in regard to the death of Henry III., that, all things weighed, and the evidence examined, it appeared to the King, that the Princes and the Princesses of the League had taken no part in that crime. The Parliaments of the realm were consequently forbidden to proceed against them. Three places were given to the Duke in Burgundy and Champagne, as security for six years, the King burthened himself with the debts which Mayenne had contracted during the war, and a term of six weeks was granted to the other Leaguers, who were still in arms, to give in their adhesion to the treaty of peace.

"This having been settled, and Mayenne feeling deeply the clemency of the monarch, who had thus, in fact, loaded him with favours, when he had nothing to expect but disgrace and punishment, set out to make his submission in person to the King, who was then at Monceaux with the fair Gabrielle. When he arrived, Henry was in the beautiful park of that place, attended only by Sully, and on his approach the monarch advanced to meet him. Mayenne knelt before the King, and embraced his knees, assuring him of his fidelity for the future, and thanking him for having delivered him 'from the arrogance of the Spaniards, and the cunning of the Italians.' The King then hastened to raise him, and embraced him three times with the utmost cordiality, after which, taking him by the hand, and changing the subject, he led him through the park, pointing out the changes and improvements he intended to make. The King walked with his usual rapid pace; Mayenne, who had become excessively fat, and was troubled both with gout and sciatica, followed with difficulty, panting, limping, and growing red in the face. With good-humoured malice, Henry continued this exercise for some time, whispering to Sully, 'If I walk this great body much longer, I shall avenge myself without much trouble;' and then, turning to Mayenne, he added, 'Tell the truth, cousin, do I not go somewhat fast for you?' The Duke replied that he was ready to expire.

"'There is my hand,' replied the King, embracing him again; 'take it, for on my life this is all the vengeance that I shall ever seek.'"

A most imperfect idea of Henry's character, however, would be formed, if his gallantry in action, conduct in war, and generosity in victory alone are taken into view. His pacific administration, and plans of social improvement, are also worthy of the very highest admiration; and his premature death is, perhaps, chiefly to be lamented, because it prevented so many of them from being carried into full effect. They are thus sketched by Mr James on the authority of Sully, the King's prime minister: —

"It is difficult to arrive at any precise notion of Henry's ultimate views; and the want of full information has induced many writers to disbelieve the fact of his having entertained any of the definite and extensive schemes attributed to him by contemporaries; but the concurring testimony of those who knew him best, leads me to believe, that a favourite project, of a comprehensive and extraordinary character, occupied many of his thoughts from the moment that he felt himself firmly seated on the throne of France. Sully seems to think that the scheme was perfectly practicable; but whether the object was limited, as some have asserted, to reducing the power of the house of Austria, or whether it extended to the partition of Europe into fifteen great monarchies, and to the establishment of a 'Christian Republic,' (by means of a general council, representing those powers, and sitting permanently,) as others affirm – whether the one design was a fixed and clearly defined resolution, and the other merely a brilliant but evanescent fancy, it would be very difficult in these days to ascertain. Certain it is, that Henry demanded from his minister Sully various written schemes and statements, as steps to the execution of some very great and difficult design, which would require the whole resources of France to be economised for many years; and, from the plans thus formed, issued a number of most beneficial projects, few of which, unhappily for posterity, were carried into effect. In the joint labours of the King and his minister, new objects, new regulations, presented themselves every hour; memorial brought forth memorial; one scheme branched out into half a dozen others; institutions were conceived; laws were drawn up; and a completely new organisation of society, founded on notions of transcendent excellence, such as the world has never seen, appeared as visions to the eyes of the monarch and his friend.