position of the Duke d'Aumale, (that county, also, had become a duchy,) who now openly affected the state and quality of prince of the blood. Then, as afterward, (when he was Duke of Guise,) he always received the title of monseigneur, (except from the princes of the blood, who called him monsieur,) and that of vostre excellence or vostre seigneurie. And in 1548 the nuns of Bouneuil addressed him a supplication as vostre haulte et puissante majesté et seigneurie. So great was his reputation for magnanimity, so popular his rule, that those provinces rejoiced over which he was appointed governor. And the affection borne him by the French people became at last so great "that it may be said it was carried to an excess, even to the point of making them forget their fidelity to the King." For a time the favor and confidence of the King kept pace with the love of the nation; and it was augmented by the ability with which d'Aumale pacified several revolted provinces, where his presence alone sufficed, for the most part, to calm angry passions and revive the loyalty of the population. Soon after this expedition, occurred his marriage with Anne d'Est, daughter of the Duke of Ferrara, a beautiful, virtuous, and well-dowered princess, who had been sought in marriage by Sigismund, King of Poland, but whom an innate sympathy for France, combined with the able management of Cardinal de Guise, induced to give the preference to the Duke d'Aumale. In his castle of Joinville, on the 12th April 1550, Claude, first duke of Guise, piously and resignedly terminated his illustrious and honorable career. His duchess, Antoinette de Bourbon, one of the most virtuous and amiable princesses of her time, his eldest son and the Marquis of Elbeuf, were beside his dying bed; and during his illness the king sent frequent expresses to inquire his state. His premature death, at the age of fifty-three, after a short but violent illness,-combined with some solemn and generous expressions he used a few minutes before breathing his last, to the effect that he heartily forgave the person, whosoever it might be, who had given him "le morceau | pour mourir,"-gave rise to a belief, further accredited by his funeral oration, and by the inscription on his tomb, that he had perished by poison. History has difficulty in confirming this popular notion, in support of which no evidence was ever produced, nor anything beyond a vague supposition that thro It was p to watch the measures taken by that r lic, to obtain from Henry II. means of ance to the party of Ferdinand, in op tion to whom there was little doubt Guise would advise the king to give his support to Genoa. Considering, how that Claude of Lorraine lived away court where his son had succeeded t influence, this is a far-fetched story; an probability is, that the Duke died of unusual malady, misunderstood by, per wholly unknown to, the imperfect me science of those days. But natural de were rare in the house of Guise; and in sixteenth century poison had no unimpo share in the bills of mortality. Some in have hinted its possible agency in the o of John, Cardinal of Lorraine, which occu within forty days of that of his bro Claude. This prelate was on his way from Rome, where he had been an ur cessful aspirant to the papal tiara, whe was suddenly informed, on his passage Lyons, of the Duke's decease. bly the shock of this intelligence that bro on an attack of appoplexy under whic sank, and shortly expired. "Providen says M. de Bouille, "had perhaps, reso to consecrate, by an almost simultane death, the union which had so constantly advantageously existed between him and brother, and which the cotemporary wri characterize, in their mythological style comparing the two princes to Castor Pullux. Their place was not to remain cant, but was about to be even more t filled up by two brothers, also the ha est pair of brothers that ever were seen;' an accomplished warrior and magnanim hero, the other a skillful and enterpri prelate, who, by renewing the example constant agreement of views, by putting practice that useful and remarkable con nation of the churchman and the man of sword, peculiar to their family, and effic ously applied by them to politics and bition, realized an immense amount of fa and authority. The first generation of dynasty-if not sovereign, at least so epis ical-had passed away, already almost! passed in grandeur by its successor, desti to elevate itself in the inverse ratio of wearer of that crown which gradually came almost illusory." Certain it is that the figure of Francis, ond Duke of Guise, surnamed the Great, cupies, upon the canvass of French history were cotemporary with his power. Ear- Claude de Guise-that brother of the Duke who, when a mere youth, had powerfully and valiantly contributed to deliver him, in front of Boulogne, from an overwhelming number of assailants-was taken prisoner. Thrice wounded, and with his horse killed under him, he had no choice but to yield or die. This disaster deprived Metz of a gallant defender and plunged Guise and the whole army into deep afiliction; the duke, however, consoling himself by the resolution to make the Emperor dearly pay for his brother's ransom, and by the reflection that d'Amale had not yielded until he was knocked down and had a cocked pistol at his throat. The sorties continued with great vigor, but at the expense of many wounded men, of whom so large a proportion died for want of efficient medical assistance, that a rumor gained credit that the drugs were poisoned. Guise begged the King to send him Ambrose Paré with a stock of fresh medicaments, and, by the connivance of an Italian officer in the Imperialist camp, that skillful leech was introduced at midnight into the town, with the apothecary Daigue and a horse-load of medical stores. Paré was bearer of a letter from the King, thanking Guise and the other princes and nobles for all they had done, and were doing to preserve his town of Metz, and he date of the death of Claude of Lor-assuring them he would remember and reCharles V. was the sole survivor of the emarkable sovereigns who had simultafilled the three most important Euthrones. With him the duke and 1 now impelled Henry II. into a war ad for its real object the realization of and extensive scheme greatly to inthe authority of France in Europe, and same time to establish the omnipof the Guises in France. One of the markable events of this war was the f Metz, in which large ill-fortified place ke, with a small number of men, was d to the assaults of an army consisting huudred thousand infantry, twentyhousand horse, and one hundred and pieces of artillery. Guise displayed dinary skill and energy, leading soraself, and even issuing forth at the f a mere handful of men to skirmish e enemy. Fortunately he had had time n good store of provisions; but his were few in number, and for the most serviceable, and he was fain to defend alconets and other small guns, the es which the Imperialists soon made valls. In an action that occurred dur | ward their services. Thus encouraged, and confident in his troops, Guise wrote to the King, with whom he found means constantly to correspond in cypher, that Metz could hold out six months without succor. On the other hand the Imperialists redoubled their efforts for success. The Emperor, who lay at Thionville, sick of the gout and expectant of triumph, at last judged his presence indispensable for the fortunate conclusion of the siege, and made his appearance in the camp, mounted on an Arab horse, "his face very pale and wasted, his head and beard white." His coming was the signal for so great a salvo of artillery and small arms, that the besieged flew to arms, expecting a general attack. Until the neighboring castle of La Horgne could be prepared for his reception, he took up his quarters in a small wooden house, hastily constructed with the ruins of an abbey. "A fine palace," he said, "when I shall receive in it the keys of Metz." But the keys were long in coming, although the fierceness of the attack was redoubled-fourteen thousand cannon-shots being fired against the ramparts in one day, the noise of which was said forty leagues from Metz. The constancy of the besieged was a match for the fury of the assailants. Breaches were diligently repaired, and sorties continued-the French actually seeking the Imperialists under their tents. Suddenly the latter changed the point of attack, and directed their cannonade against one of the very strongest parts of the rampart, behind which the besieged hastened to construct a second wall, also of great strength. The sudden change of plan is attributed by Ambrose Pare, in his Voyage à Metz, to a stratagem employed by Guise. The duke, according to the learned physician and chronicler, wrote a letter to Henry II., with the intention of its being intercepted by the enemy, in which he said, that if Charles V. persisted in his plan of attack, he would be compelled to raise the siege, but that a very different result was to be apprehended, if unfortunately the enemy directed his attention to a certain point, cunningly indicated in the despatch. Sewn, with an affectation of mystery, under the doublet of a clumsy peasant, this letter was destined for the perusal of the Duke of Alva, one of whose patrols did not fail to seize and search the unfortunate messenger, who was forthwith hanged. Misled by the information thus obtained, the besiegers changed the position of their batteries. In two days a breach was effected, the old wall crumbling into the ditch, amidst the acclamations of the assailants. But their joy was exchanged for rage and disgust when, upon the subsidence of the dust, they beheld a second wall in rear of the breach. The French began to scoff and abuse them, but Guise commanded silence, under pain of death, lest some traitor should take advantage of the tumult to convey information to the enemy; whereupon his soldiers fastened live cats to the end of their pikes, whose discordant cries mocked the enemy. The enthusiasm of the besieged knew no bounds. Men, women, and young girls toiled day and night to strengthen the inner wall. Guise's gay and encouraging words gave confidence to all. Collecting his soldiers upon the breach, which was ninety feet wide: "I rejoice," he said, "that the enemy have at last overthrown this barrier, more useful to them than to you. You have so often visited them in their camp, that it is aula iust that thou should have an 66 with Guise at their head, they recoiled a already attacked, and neither entreaties threats could move them forward. is it," the Emperor had exclaimed with great oath, when he saw the gaping brea that they do not enter? It is so large a level with the ditch; vertu de Dieu ! w means this?" He had himself conveyed a litter to the foremost ranks, to animate soldiers by his presence. When he behe their retreat, he mournfully desired to carried back to his quarters. "Formerly," said, "I was followed to the fight, but I s that I have now no men around me; I mu bid adieu to empire and immure myself in monastery; before three years are over, will turn Franciscan." Finally, on the 26 December, provisions running short, and h army weakened one-third by sickness an the sword, Charles, with a sad heart, aise the siege, uttering, in the bitterness of h shame and disappointment, the well-know words, "I plainly see that Fortune, like true woman, prefers a young king to an ol emperor." The imperial camp and artiller crossed the Moselle, and in the night th Duke of Alva evacuated his position, leavin behind a quantity of stores and tents. Guise who had expressed, that very evening, in letter to his brother the Cardinal, his con viction that the Emperor would never endur the shame of abandoning the siege, wa greatly astonished in the morning to find tha the enemy had decamped. His skill and constancy had triumphed, and France wa saved from invasion. When he reappeared at court, the King embraced him with trans port, and called him his brother. You have vanquished me as well as the Empe ror," said Henry, "by the obligations you have laid me under." The Duke of Guise's humanity after the siege did him as much honor as his bravery during it. A large number of sick men remained in the Imperialist camp; the earguard of the retreating army were in a pitiable state, and, unable to proceed, yielded themselves ready prisoners. The commander of a troop of Spanish cavalry, pursued by the Prince of la Roche-sur-Yon, who would fain have brought him to battle, suddenly faced about, exclaiming, "How should we have strength to defend ourselves, when you see we have not enough left to fly?" In the hospitals of Mote and Thionvilla the ardor of religious passions, and of combats for their respective creeds. It is here impossible to trace, even in outline, the events that crowded the reign of Henry II., and in which the duke, the cardinal, and their brother d'Aumale played a most conspicuous part. It was a constant succession of battles and intrigues, for the most part terminating, in spite of formidable foes both in the field and at court, to the advantage of the Guises. And when, a few | weeks after the battle of St. Quintin, so dis"Bonne astrous to the French arms-where the constable de Montmorency, who had boasted beforehand of victory, beheld his entire army slain or taken, and himself a prisoner-the Duke of Guise returned from Italy, "to save the state," as the king himself expressed it, he found himself at the utmost pinnacle of power a subject could possibly attain. On the very day of his arrival, Henry declared him lieutenant-general of the French armies, in and out of the kingdom; a temporary dignity, it is true, but one superior to that of Constable, and which usually was bestowed only in times of regency and minority. That nothing should be wanting to the exorbitant authority thus conferred upon the man to whom sovereign and nation alike were wont to turn in the day of danger and disaster, the king addressed to all the provincial authorities particular injunctions to obey the orders of the Duke of Guise as though they emanated from himself; and truly it was remarked, says Dauvigny in his Vies des Hommes Illustres, that never had monarch in France been obeyed more punctually and with greater zeal. The whole business of the country now rested upon the shoulders of Guise. But even whilst thus exalting him, Henry, conscious of his own weakness, and haunted, perhaps, by his father's dying injunction, was actually plotting how to lessen the power of his great subject, so soon as the period of peril should have passed, during which his services were indispensable. With strange infatuation, the feeble monarch expected to be able to clip at will the wings of that soaring influence, when victory over the foreigner and the liberation of the country should have confirmed its domination. ort his exhausted soldiers; the bodies | Invested with his new dignities, whose importance his sagacity fully appreciated, Guise, with the least possible delay, set out arms, at once useful to the state, and flattering to the national pride. Upon such a one he resolved. Calais, now upwards of two centuries in possession of the English, to the great humiliation of France, was the object of destined attack. Skilled in the stratagems of war, the Duke contrived, by a series of able manoeuvres, to avert suspicion of his real design, until, on the 1st of January, 1558, he suddenly appeared before the ramparts of Calais. The siege that ensued has been often narrated. It terminated, after an obstinate resistance, in the capitulation of the garrison, which had scarcely been executed, when an English fleet appeared off the port, bearing succors that came too late. The triumph excited indescribable astonishment and joy throughout France. It was a splendid revenge for the defeat of St. Quintin, and produced a marked change in the sentiments of several foreign potentates, who believed that reverse to have prostrated the French power for some time to come. The Grand Signior offered the co-operation of his fleet, and the German princes hastened, with redoubled good-will, the levies that had been demanded of them. Pope Paul IV., when congratulating the French ambassador, pronounced the highest eulogiums Guise, and declared the conquest of Calais preferable to that of half England. At court, the partisans of the constable were in dismay, and tried to lessen the merit of the victor by attributing its success to the adoption of a plan sketched by Coligny. But even if this were true, the merit of the execution was all the duke's own. Upon the heels of this triumph, quickly followed the capture of Guines and the evacuation by the English of the castle of Hames, their last possession in the county of Oye. "In less than a month," says M. de Bouillé, "Francis of Lorraine had accomplished the patriotic but difficult enterprise so often and fruitlessly attempted during two centuries, and had cancelled the old proverb applied in France, in those days, to generals of slight merit, of whom it was derisively said, "He will never drive the English out of France." his gratitude to his lieutenant-general, sho ing him great confidence, referring to him who requested audience on business, a presenting him, in the most flattering term with a house in Calais. The Duke returne with Henry to Paris, where great feasts ar rejoicings were held in his honor, and, occasion of the Dauphin's marriage wit Mary Queen of Scots, which shortly follow ed, Guise filled, in the absence of Montm rency, the office of grand-master, which h had long coveted. Concurrently, howeve with this great apparent favor, Henry wa secretly uneasy at the power and pretension of the family of Guise, and maintained constant and confidential correspondenc with their inveterate enemy the Constabl de Montmorency. On the other hand, the Guises were on their guard, laboring t countermine and defeat the intrigues levelled against them. Urged on by his brother and feeling that, in their position, if they did not advance they must recede, the Duke directed all his efforts to an effectual concentration in his own hand of the entire military power of the kingdom. Should he fail in this, he at least was resolved to leave none in those of his rivals. By this time the proongress of the Reformed religion in France had attracted great attention. It was an abomination in the eyes of Henry; and of this the duke and cardinal took advantage to work the downfall of d'Andelot, brother of Coligny, and colonel-general of the French infantry, the only military commander who at that moment caused them any uneasiness. Accused of heresy, and summoned before the king, who received him kindly, and expecting he would so reply as to disconcert his enemies, "commanded him to declare, in presence of all the court, his belief with respect to the holy sacrifice of mass; d'Andelot proudly replied that his gratitude for the king's favors doubtless rendered entire devotedness incumbent upon him, but that his soul belonged to God alone; that, enlightened by the torch of Scripture, he approved the doctrines of Calvin, and considered mass a horrible profanation and an abominable invention of man." Furious at what he deemed a blasphemy, the King, who was at supper, snatched a basin from the table and hurled it at d'Andelot; but it struck the Dauphin. He was then tempted, says one of his historians, to pierce the of Henry II.,, accompanied by the Dauphin, the Cardinals of Lorraine and Guise, and several nobles of the court, made journey to Calais, which he entered with great pomp. The object of this expedition was to sustain |