Curiosities of Literature, Vol. II | Page 4

go and see the queen in spite of the French
court; and to this petty affair is to be ascribed the war between the two
nations!
The Marshal de Bassompiere, in the journal of his embassy, affords
another instance of his "English familiarity." He says, "The King of
England gave me a long audience, and a very disputatious one. He put

himself in a passion, while I, without losing my respect, expressed
myself freely. The Duke of Buckingham, when he observed the king
and myself very warm, leapt suddenly betwixt his majesty and me,
exclaiming, 'I am come to set all to rights betwixt you, which I think is
high time.'"
Cardinal Richelieu hated Buckingham as sincerely as did the Spaniard
Olivares. This enmity was apparently owing to the cardinal writing to
the duke without leaving any space open after the title of Monsieur; the
duke, to show his equality, returned his answer in the same
"paper-sparing" manner. Richelieu was jealous of Buckingham, whose
favour with the Queen of France was known.
This ridiculous circumstance between Richelieu and Buckingham
reminds me of a similar one, which happened to two Spanish
Lords:--One signed at the end of his letter EL Marques (THE Marquis),
as if the title had been peculiar to himself for its excellence. His
national vanity received a dreadful reproof from his correspondent,
who, jealous of his equality, signed OTRO Marqies (ANOTHER
Marquis).
An anecdote given by Sir Henry Wotton offers a characteristic trait of
Charles and his favourite:--
"They were now entered into the deep time of Lent, and could get no
flesh into their inns; whereupon fell out a pleasant passage (if I may
insert it by the way among more serious):--There was near Bayon a
herd of goats with their young ones; on which sight Sir Richard
Graham (master of the horse to the marquis) tells the marquis he could
snap one of the kids, and make some shift to carry him close to their
lodgings; which the prince overhearing, 'Why, Richard,' says he, 'do
you think you may practise here your old tricks again upon the
borders?' Upon which word they first gave the goatherd good
contentment, and then while the marquis and his servant, being both on
foot, were chasing the kid about the flock, the prince from horseback
killed him in the head with a Scottish pistol. Let this serve for a journal
parenthesis, which yet may show how his highness, even in such light
and sportful damage, had a noble sense of just dealing."

THE DEATH OF CHARLES IX.
Dr. Cayet is an old French controversial writer, but is better known in
French literature as an historian. His Chronologie Novenaire is full of
anecdotes unknown to other writers. He collected them from his own
observations, for he was under-preceptor to Henry IV. The dreadful
massacre of St. Bartholomew took place in the reign of Charles IX.; on
which occasion the English court went into mourning. The singular
death of Charles has been regarded by the Huguenots as an
interposition of divine justice: he died bathed in his blood, which burst
from his veins. The horrors of this miserable prince on his dying bed
are forcibly depicted by the anecdotes I am now collecting. I shall
premise, however, that Charles was a mere instrument in the hands of
his mother, the political and cruel Catherine of Medicis.
Dr. Cayet, with honest naïveté, thus relates what he knew to have
passed a few hours before his death.
"King Charles, feeling himself near his end, after having passed some
time without pronouncing a word, said, as he turned himself on one
side, and as if he seemed to awake, 'Call my brother!' The queen
mother was present, who immediately sent for the Duke of Alençon.
The king perceiving him, turned his back, and again said, 'Let my
brother come!' The queen, his mother, replied, 'Sir, I do not know
whom you mean; here is your brother.' The king was displeased, and
said, 'Let them bring my brother the King of Navarre; it is he who is my
brother.' The queen mother observing the dying monarch's resolute
order, sent for him; but, for reasons known only to herself, she
commanded the captain of the guards to conduct him under the vaults.
They went to the King of Navarre, and desired him to come and speak
to the king; at that moment, this prince has since repeatedly said, he felt
a shuddering and apprehension of death so much that he would not go.
But King Charles persisting on his coming, the queen mother assured
him that he should receive no injury. In this promise, however, he put
little trust. He went, accompanied by the Viscount d'Auchy, on whose
word he chiefly relied. Having, however, observed under these vaults a

great