NO. XII.] THE NEW YORK JOURNAL; ST FLORE. A NEW HISTORICAL ROMANCE. (FROM THE GERMAN OF HORN.) CHAPTER 1.-THE KING AND THE PRIEST. An Illustrated Literary Periodical. IT wanted scarcely an hour to dinner, and a group of persons, evidently waiting for the announcement of the meal, were standing in the recess of a window in a small ante-chamber of the banquetinghall at the Louvre, engaged in carnest conversation. The sun shone bright and clear through the lofty windows of the apartment, and the rays reflected from the gorgeous painted glass of which its panes were composed, cast a glowing light on the figures who formed the group. King Henry II. of France was there. He stood apart from the rest, leaning with folded arms against the stone cross-work of the window-frame. He was richly dressed after the fashion of the time, in an ample ermine mantle, which hung negligently from his shoulders, and reaching to his knees, partially concealed the closely-fitting white satin jerkin. His stockings were quilted of the same material, and, according to the frightful custom of the court, he wore enormous long-pointed boots, which, turning up at the toes, ended in a vulture's claw. His sword hung from a costly belt, and on his head was a crimson-velvet cap, ornamented with a bunch of white ostrich feathers. He was not much above the middle stature, and his face was not unpleasing although it bore traces of its owner having passed through many sore conflicts. His dark eye betrayed that if passion lit its fire it could sparkle with full and terrible meaning; while his whole expression was that of a man who was no stranger to violent emotions. A pause ensued, broken by the King, who, after a few seconds, said, in a strong and decided tone,"We have heard the words of the Church, now we would hear those of the nobility. My Lord Marquis of Tavannes, what is your opinion on the subject which my Lord the Archbishop has introduced?" Tavannes, who scarcely anticipated this sudden appeal, at once collected himself, and bowing low, replied,― "It is too much honor, sire, to request my opinion, after the counsel of the most high Prelate." "But it is our will," replied Henry II., "to hear yet another council; and as the Church and nobility are both the pillars of the State, so it is our pleasure, that having heard the mind of one, we should now hear that of the other." 'Assuredly," said the Archbishop, bowing with a scarcely perceptible smile to the King, who had addressed the above speech partly to him and partly to Tavannes. "If it please your Majesty, then," replied the Marquis, with a low inclination, "I will not hold back the expression of my own sentiments, and those, I am sure, of the most illustrious nobles of our land." To the right of the King stood two dignitaries of the Church. The one tall, thin, and of the most ascetic appearance, was the Archbishop of Paris. He was a man of fifty years or more, and, clad in the rich vestures of his office, as became a guest of royalty, was somewhat imposing in his figure. Not far off, but a step or two behind him, was Henry's Confessor. He wore the black garb of his order, and, unlike the Archbishop, had the air of a jovial, well-fed, fat priest. His aspect, however, was most unpleasing, and there was something sharp, almost to cunning, in the glance of his little, black, searching eye. The bearing of the prelate was haughty, indeed, but there was a dignified and determined energy in his manners; whilst that of the Confessor was quiet, humble, and obsequious. A humility but exter-lence. nal, however, for it was not difficult to perceive the Sire," he said, "at the very sap of our country's ill-concealed pride and ambition which lurked within; life, a worm is hidden, a worm whose poisonous and one might fancy that those eyes so thoughtfully fang will be the destruction of France, if not crushed And now he stood proudly erect, his eye assuming a steady and almost fierce light, whilst on his expressive mouth those passions played which seemed ready to break forth in open and undisguised vio [VOL. III. or eradicated. Throne and Church are in jeopardy. I repeat that the worm is gnawing at the foundation of each; and if the foot of power be not set firmly on its head, its ravages will soon be beyond remedy, its progress beyond control. Sire, your Majesty knows the worm to which I allude." The King made a sign of assent. "You are expressing," he said, "as we conceive, the opinion of multitudes, but tell us in yet plainer terms of the evil with which we are threatened, and above all, of the means by which you propose to rid us of the worm." "I speak, Sire, of Calvinism,” said Tavannes,— "Calvinism, which has been met but with half measures, and which, like all noxious weeds, has but gone on to spread and to take deeper root in our land. Not only in Calvados, in the Ardennes, in Dauphiny, has it made fearful strides, but it would now lift its head in the presence of your most Christian Majesty. Geneva has lately sent her masked emissaries even to Paris. Hitherto they have held their heretical assemblies in secret, in which assemblies their preachers teach their pernicious doctrines, scoffing at our holy sacraments, and at the mysteries of our sublime religion! Now, truly, they meet openly, and without shame; and if, a short time since, tuey numbered their hundreds, now they may be said to collect their thousands of votaries. It is clear," he continued, "that not only among the common people is this heresy rife, but it is taking hold of the merchant, of the nobility: the magistrate, yea, even our senators avow their belief in these heretical doctrines; and the error will soon reach to the foot of the throne itself. Yes, sire, even in the Parliament house, at Paris, the Protestant dares to take his seat, and to declare his faith and his purpose. Some of the more crafty, indeed, still veil their intentions; but the furious zealots speak boldly out, and no longer fear the arm which they deem they have paralyzed by their boldness." The King's eye lighted up angrily, and, interrupting the Marquis with some impatience, he said— "My Lord Marquis, remember to whom you speak." The Marquis bent low. "I crave your Majesty's forgiveness if, in zeal for my faith, I went too far. My heart, my life's devotion you may command, and they should be freely yours." The irritation passed away, and the King replied "These heretics shall quickly experience that the arm which they deem powerless has still the power to crush them to the earth." And he spoke with an emphasis which left no doubt on his hearers' minds that the spark would ere long be fanned into a flame. At this moment, the Seneschal and pages ap peared to remind the King that they only awaited and is dividing our native land into two great par- the power which was given by the cruel Edict of his order to serve the dinner. "the future will "Let us go, my lords," he said; discover that which all the world should know-that the Church has not a truer son than the King of France." ties." Diana listened thoughtfully, and it was easy to perceive that the priests words harmonized with her own feelings. vengeance and destruction. "The Church alone would be ineffective," continued the priest earnestly. "Yours is the arm of So saying, he passed through the folding doors; and with a meaning glance at one another, his sub-power-your hand it is that holds the sword of Think! All hearts jects followed. are yours, and await but a sign from you to rise into action. Transmit to the Church your authority, gracious lady, and the victory is secure; but if the noble and the mighty ones bend the neck to the heretics' yoke, lands and possessions, castles and their goods, will fall into their grasp, and your own, lady!" During the conference which had now concluded, a scene had been enacting in a splendid cabinet in the Louvre which had close connection with the affairs first related. The walls of this cabinet were hung with the richest Gobelin tapestry, illustrating in the most glowing colors some of the celebrated scenes in the Grecian mythology. The furniture of the room was costly in material and elegant in form. The floor was covered with carpets (still luxurious in those days), and the crimson hangings of the windows cast an almost magical effect on the surrounding objects, heightening the attraction of the occupants of the cabinet in no common degree. Half-sitting, half reclining upon a downy couch She could not, inwas a richly-apparelled woman. deed, boast of being in the bloom of early youth, but her beauty was still of a dazzling and extraordinary character; and the intellectual expression of her fine face, which beamed especially from her lovely eyes, could not fail to awe as well as to charm the beholder-it was Diana of Poitiers,* Duchess of Valentinois-that celebrated woman who exercised so vast an influence, not only over the King, but his people, and who seemed to be almost unlimited both in power and ambition. By her side sat a young ecclesiastic, of imposing appearance and fine features. His eyes rested on Diana; her exquisite little white hand lay in his; and as she spoke, he stooped to kiss it, with a familiarity which very few in his office, or indeed in any position whatever, would have dared to use. "has 'My Lord Abbot,' ," said Diana, withdrawing her hand, and raising her forefinger reprovingly, apparently forgotten the subject which induced him to seck this audience." "I know not who could have done otherwise than forget all subjects but one in such a presence!" said The Abbot collected himself, and replied, * Diana of Poitiers was the widow of the Sieur de la Brezé, Seneschal of No: mindy, and had such an influence over the King, that the people accused her of using magic arts to fascinate him. + Cardinal of Lorraine, brother to the Duke of Guise. Diana looked inquiringly at the speaker. Escouan to their party for the suppression and ex- Since the time of Charles VIII. the power of the legislature had been of an extremely limited nature, and that power was about to receive a yet further check, which had not in the least been expected, by the sudden visit of the King's Solicitor-General to the assembled Parliament. His pretext was the royal command to discover all disaffected persons, and to check all controversial or theological discussions. For this purpose he took note of every absent member, and called each delinquent to a strict account. He preserved a close watch over the proceedings of the House, and the Senate was, as may be readily imagined, thrown into a state of great consternation by this system of The Abbot had again knelt down, seized her espionage,-a proceeding which they foresaw would hand, and carried it to his lips. inevitably repress the free expression of opinion, and that noble exercise of private judgment which it had been their glory to uphold. "I must not reply to that question," he said. "But for his power? What avails Guise that The various parties of the clergy, the Guises, the which it required but a signal to crush? power Power! this fair hand holds its curb. What power King, and that of Diana, had concerted to bring the has ever withstood Diana of Poitiers? Neither matter of the Edict of Escouan before the house on avarice, nor ambition, nor strife, since the might the appointed day, when the Solicitor-General would and the right exist with you, since Church and be present at the conference, and no pains were nobility are pledged to you, since the service-the spared to strengthen arguments, and to collect facts heart service-of France is at your command. I for the occasion. conceive there should be no wavering, no hesitation." "You are right," she replied; "the decision is made," and she spoke with the whole energy and earnestness of her character. The Abbot rose, but still lingered, and his eye rested on her as though it would look through the lovely woman's soul. 66 The sitting had commenced. The senators had urged numerous reasons for the Government's instituting strict proceedings against the heretics, and one after another these arguments had been upset, and their fallacy and hollowness exposed in a few masterly words by the principal orators of the Reformed party. That which was lacking, indeed, in wisdom and Go," she said pleasantly, “say that to the duke. judgment was on either side supplied by the zeal My hour for dressing is come. Go!" "How can I?" asked the Abbot, softly. And the Abbot, once more pressing to his lips over the fire, and summoned her ladies. The actors in both these little scenes were soon to step forth into the great theatre of public life; and an event transpired in the Parliament of Paris which expedited their appearance there. and passion of the speakers, and a war of words commenced, which for its violence and bitterness the annals of the Senate House furnished no parallel. Passion was unloosed, and the sharp arrows of acrimony and retort flew hither and thither, when suddenly arose the most powerful speaker in the House, and the most zealous and conscientious of the champions for truth. The orator was Claude Viole de St. Flore. Ho had hitherto preserved a dignified silence. Some of his party had been speaking with vehemence, others with power and effect. Ferrier, Du Faure, and Du Bourg had each expressed his sentiments amid some The King was well acquainted with the names of confusion and interruption; but when Viole rose the heretical members of Parliament-not only with there was a universal stillness. The faces of his those who openly confessed their faith, but with adversaries fell, while those of his friends flushed those who still, from timidity or prudence, veiled with expectation, for all knew that when Viole spoke, their opinions from the world. It must be a bold his triumph,-the triumph of a master-mind, and of stroke which should crush the Protestants, for they a high-toned principle, was secure. were among the most talented of the senators of their country; men richly endowed with mental qualifications, intelligent, firm, conscientious-men whose power of argument and oratory were not inferior to those of their opponents-beings, in short, such as France could scarcely hope to produce again. The adherents of Catholicism saw their danger, and were all agreed on the importance of assuming He began, and at the very moment when his eloquence was at its height, and all were hanging breathless on his lips,-when, becoming more impassioned as he proceeded, he claimed for his fellow Christians, and for himself, the right of liberty of conscience,—the folding-doors opened, and the herald proclaimed, in a loud voice, the arrival of the King. With all the pomp of royalty, and attended by a numerous retinue, the King stepped into the place |