Catherine de Medici | Page 4

given as Salomon de Caux, not Caus. That great man has always
been unfortunate; even after his death his name is mangled. Salomon,
whose portrait taken at the age of forty-six was discovered by the
author of the "Comedy of Human Life" at Heidelberg, was born at
Caux in Normandy. He was the author of a book entitled "The Causes
of Moving Forces," in which he gave the theory of the expansion and
condensation of steam. He died in 1635.

CATHERINE DE' MEDICI

INTRODUCTION
There is a general cry of paradox when scholars, struck by some
historical error, attempt to correct it; but, for whoever studies modern
history to its depths, it is plain that historians are privileged liars, who
lend their pen to popular beliefs precisely as the newspapers of the day,
or most of them, express the opinions of their readers.

Historical independence has shown itself much less among lay writers
than among those of the Church. It is from the Benedictines, one of the
glories of France, that the purest light has come to us in the matter of
history,--so long, of course, as the interests of the order were not
involved. About the middle of the eighteenth century great and learned
controversialists, struck by the necessity of correcting popular errors
endorsed by historians, made and published to the world very
remarkable works. Thus Monsieur de Launoy, nicknamed the "Expeller
of Saints," made cruel war upon the saints surreptitiously smuggled
into the Church. Thus the emulators of the Benedictines, the members
(too little recognized) of the Academie des Inscriptions et Belles-lettres,
began on many obscure historical points a series of monographs, which
are admirable for patience, erudition, and logical consistency. Thus
Voltaire, for a mistaken purpose and with ill-judged passion, frequently
cast the light of his mind on historical prejudices. Diderot undertook in
this direction a book (much too long) on the era of imperial Rome. If it
had not been for the French Revolution, /criticism/ applied to history
might then have prepared the elements of a good and true history of
France, the proofs for which had long been gathered by the
Benedictines. Louis XVI., a just mind, himself translated the English
work in which Walpole endeavored to explain Richard III.,--a work
much talked of in the last century.
Why do personages so celebrated as kings and queens, so important as
the generals of armies, become objects of horror or derision? Half the
world hesitates between the famous song on Marlborough and the
history of England, and it also hesitates between history and popular
tradition as to Charles IX. At all epochs when great struggles take place
between the masses and authority, the populace creates for itself an
/ogre-esque/ personage--if it is allowable to coin a word to convey a
just idea. Thus, to take an example in our own time, if it had not been
for the "Memorial of Saint Helena," and the controversies between the
Royalists and the Bonapartists, there was every probability that the
character of Napoleon would have been misunderstood. A few more
Abbe de Pradits, a few more newspaper articles, and from being an
emperor, Napoleon would have turned into an ogre.
How does error propagate itself? The mystery is accomplished under
our very eyes without our perceiving it. No one suspects how much

solidity the art of printing has given both to the envy which pursues
greatness, and to the popular ridicule which fastens a contrary sense on
a grand historical act. Thus, the name of the Prince de Polignac is given
throughout the length and breadth of France to all bad horses that
require whipping; and who knows how that will affect the opinion of
the future as to the /coup d'Etat/ of the Prince de Polignac himself? In
consequence of a whim of Shakespeare--or perhaps it may have been a
revenge, like that of Beaumarchais on Bergasse (Bergearss) --Falstaff is,
in England, a type of the ridiculous; his very name provokes laughter;
he is the king of clowns. Now, instead of being enormously pot-bellied,
absurdly amorous, vain, drunken, old, and corrupted, Falstaff was one
of the most distinguished men of his time, a Knight of the Garter,
holding a high command in the army. At the accession of Henry V. Sir
John Falstaff was only thirty-four years old. This general, who
distinguished himself at the battle of Agincourt, and there took prisoner
the Duc d'Alencon, captured, in 1420, the town of Montereau, which
was vigorously defended. Moreover, under Henry VI. he defeated ten
thousand French troops with fifteen hundred weary and famished men.
So much for war. Now let us pass to literature, and see our own
Rabelais, a sober man who drank nothing but water, but is held to be,
nevertheless, an extravagant lover of good cheer