Jacques Cœur

“ During his absence, a consultation was held between Madame De Brecy, her son, and Jacques Cœur as to what was to be done in regard to the message of the Duke of Burgundy. "We have only put off the evil day," said Jacques Cœur, "and some reply must soon be given."
"My reply can be but one," answered Jean Charost; "that I will never serve a murderer; still less serve the murderer of my dear lord." ”

“ Jacques Cœur advanced to within a few paces, while the other still kept his seat, and Jean Charost followed a step or two behind.
"Well, what news do you bring me?" asked the prince, lowering his tone a little; "good, I hope. Come, say you have changed your resolution! Why should a merchant's resolutions be made of sterner stuff than a woman's, or the moon's, or man's, or any other of the light things that inhabit this earth, or whirl around it? Faith, my good friend, the most beneficent of things are always changing. ”

“ The history of Jacques Coeur, which has been written by M. Pierre Clement, in a volume crowned by the French Academy, is very wonderful and interesting, but I have no space to go into it here. There is no more curious example, and few more tragical, of a great fortune crumbling from one day to the other, or of the antique superstition that the gods grow jealous of human success. ”

“ The writers upon alchymy all claim Jacques Coeur as a member of their fraternity, and treat as false and libellous the more rational explanation of his wealth which the records of his trial afford. Pierre Borel, in his "Antiquites Gauloises," maintains the opinion that Jacques was an honest man, and that he made his gold out of lead and copper by means of the philosopher's stone. The alchymic adepts in general were of the same opinion ”

“ CŒUR, JACQUES (c. 1395–1456) , founder of the trade between France and the Levant, was born at Bourges, in which city his father, Pierre Cœur, was a rich merchant. Jacques is first heard of about 1418, when he married Macée de Léodepart, daughter of Lambert de Léodepart, an influential citizen, provost of Bourges, and a former valet of John, duke of Berry. ”

“ Tell all my people to get ready for instant departure; and look for a litter that will hold two. I will away at once, and see what can be done."
"Have plenty of men with you, Messire Jacques," said Martin Grille, eagerly; "men that can fight, for there are Burgundian bands patrolling all round the city. I am not good at fighting, and my young lord is as bad as I am now."
"We must take our chance," said Jacques Cœur, and quitted the room.
CHAPTER XXXI.
It was past ten o'clock at night, when a litter, escorted by four men on horseback, passed the gates of Paris. ”

“ GOUFFIER, the name of a great French family, which owned the estate of Bonnivet in Poitou from the 14th century. Guillaume Gouffier, chamberlain to Charles VII., was an inveterate enemy of Jacques Cœur, obtaining his condemnation and afterwards receiving his property (1491) . He had a great number of children, several of whom played a part in history. ”

“ Thus saying, Juvenel de Royans turned away, rode back to his companions, and gave them explanations which seemed satisfactory; for the merchant and his party were not only suffered to proceed, but obtained the escort of some forty or fifty men-at-arms, who had been about to return to Juvisy when they fell in with the little cavalcade of Jacques Cœur.
None of the many moral enigmas with which we are surrounded is more difficult of comprehension to the mind of a man of fixed and resolute character than the sudden changes which come upon more impulsive and volatile people. ”

“ A certain generosity, too, had survived the pure chivalrous ages, and men, even during life, could attribute high and noble qualities to an enemy; but details were generally lost. Jean Charost was anxious to hear those details, and when they gathered round the great chimney and the blazing hearth--for it was now October, and the nights were frosty--Jacques Cœur undertook to give his young friend some account of all that had taken place in France since the battle of Azincourt, somewhat to the following effect. ”

“ I have nothing to guide me but suspicion, it is true; but my suspicion is strong. Ay, my young friend: you are surprised that I know aught of this affair; but a friend's eye is often as watchful as a parent's. I saw the child, some days after it was given into your charge, and there is a strong likeness--as strong as there can be between an infant and a grown person--between this poor thing and one who is no more."
"Who--who?" asked Jean Charost, eagerly.
"One whom you never saw," replied Jacques Cœur; and Jean Charost was silent ”

“ A slight color comes to her bright cheek, for it is impossible to misunderstand his eloquent glance.
"Are you?" she says; "but that is wrong. Fie on't! Was ever Corydon really in love with his Chloe—or are his affections always confined to the fluttering ribbons, and the crook, wreathed with flowers, which make her a pleasant object only, like a picture?"
Jacques sighs.
"I am not a Corydon," he says, "much less have I a Chloe—at least, who treats me as Chloes should treat their faithful shepherds. My Chloe runs away when I approach, and her crook turns into a shadow which I grasp in vain at. ”

“ Its melting involutions and expiring cadences unwound themselves and floated from her lips like satin ribbon gradually drawn out.
As for Jacques, he was in a dream; one might have supposed that his nerves were steeped in the liquid melody—or at times, when he started, that the music came over him like a shower bath of perfume.
His sighs would have conciliated tigers; and when she turned and smiled on him, he almost staggered.
"Now," said Belle-bouche smiling softly, "suppose I sing something a little merrier. You know the minuet always gives place to the reel." ”

“ Jacques heaves a sigh; for the music of the voice has touched his heart—nay, overwhelmed it with a new flood of love.
He dangles his bonnet and plume, and carefully arranges a drop curl. He, the prince of wits, the ornament of ball rooms, the star of the minuet and reel, is suddenly quite dumb, and seems to seek for a subject to discourse upon in surrounding objects.
A happy idea strikes him; a thought occurs to him; he grasps at it with the desperation of a drowning man. He says:
(p. 017) "'Tis a charming day, fairest Belle-bouche—Belinda, I mean. ”

“ The reader is requested to identify our melancholy lover Jacques with the foregoing sentences; and forgive him in consideration of his unfortunate condition. Lovers, as every body knows, live dream-lives; and what we have written is not an inaccurate hint of what passed through the heart of Jacques as he went on beneath peach and cherry blossoms to his love.
Poor Jacques was falling more deeply in love with every passing day. That fate which seemed to deny him incessantly an opportunity to hear Belle-bouche's reply to his suit, had only inflamed his love. ”

“ The Doctor nodded with a benevolent smile, and restored his handkerchief to the pocket of his long, heavy, flapped coat.
"Why, sir," said Jacques, "there is a very beautiful young lady in the immediate vicinity of town, who has smiled on Tom perhaps as many as three times; and would you believe it, sir, the infatuated youth thinks she is in love with him."
"Ah! ah!" smiled the Doctor; "a mere youthful folly."
"She cares not one pinch of snuff for him," said Jacques, "and he believes that she is dying for him." ”

“ And Jacques raises his eyes to the blushing face of Belle-bouche.
"Is it not fair to think of?" he says sadly.
She tries to smile, and can only murmur, "Yes."
"I fear it is but a dream," says Jacques.
She does not reply: she wishes a moment to collect her thoughts and regain her calmness.
"A dream," he continues, "which many poor fellows dream, and live in, and make a reality of—alas! never to be realized."
"Perhaps the world has changed since the old Arcadian days," murmurs Belle-bouche, gazing down with rosy cheeks, and a bad attempt at ease. "You know the earth has become different." ”

“ And having uttered this beautiful sentiment, the melancholy Jacques was silent.
"Do you like 'My Arcady?'" asked Belle-bouche; "I think it very pretty."
"It is the gem of music. Ah! to hear you sing it," sighed poor Corydon.
(p. 064) Belle-bouche quite simply rose, and going to the spinet, sat down and played the prelude.
Jacques listened with closed eyes and heaving bosom.
"Please hand me the music," said Belle-bouche; "there in the scarlet binding."
Jacques started and obeyed. As she received it, the young girl's hand touched his own, and he uttered a sigh which might have melted rocks. ”

“ Jacques finds the eyes suddenly turned upon him, and bows low. Then he approaches, falls upon one knee, and presses his lips gallantly to the hand of the little beauty, who smiling carelessly rises in a measure from her recumbent position.
"Do I find the fair Belinda reading?" says the gallant; "what blessed book is made happy by the light of her eyes?" ”

“ Belle-bouche found that she was involved in a delicate explanation; but thinking boldness the best, she replied:
"Because she could not find just the husband she wanted. You know the song says so—'some were too coarse and some too fine.'"
"Yes," murmured Jacques; "and 'tis often the case with us poor fellows. We seldom find the Chloe we want—she flies us ever spite of our attempts to clasp her to our hearts."
"That is not because Chloe is fickle, but because Corydon is so difficult to please," Belle-bouche replied, with a sly little smile. ”

“ Just a week after the practical lesson given by his Excellency Governer Fauquier to Sir Asinus, and on a bright fine morning, the melancholy Jacques issued from the walls of his Alma Mater, and took his way along Gloucester street toward the residence of his friend and rival.
Jacques was dressed with unusual splendor. His coat was heavy with embroidery—his waistcoat a blooming flower-plat, upon whose emerald background roses, marigolds, and lilies flaunted in their satin bravery—and his scarlet silk stockings were held up by gold-colored garters. ”

“ The visitor was Jacques.
He entered with his soft melancholy smile, and approaching Belle-bouche, pressed her hand to his lips.
"I am glad to see you so bright," he said; "but you always look blooming."
And he sat down and gazed around sadly.
Perhaps Jacques had never before so closely resembled a tulip. His coat was red, his waistcoat scarlet, his lace yellow, his stockings white; his shoes, lastly, were adorned with huge rosettes, and his wig was a perfect snow-storm of powder.
Belle-bouche casts down her eyes, and a roseate bloom diffuses itself over her tender cheek. ”

“ Who is this gallant but our friend of one day's standing, the handsome, the smiling, the forlorn, the melancholy—and, being melancholy, the interesting—Jacques.
He approaches smiling, modest, humble—a consummate strategist; his ambrosial curls and powdered queue tied with its orange ribbon, shining in the sun. He wears a suit of cut velvet with gold buttons; a flowered (p. 016) satin waistcoat reaching to his knees; scarlet silk stockings, and high-heeled worsted shoes. His cuffs would enter a barrel with difficulty, and his chin reposes upon a frill of irreproachable Mechlin lace. ”

“ I heard the trampling of feet, the sound of Settle's voice shouting an order, and then a dismal yell and clash of steel as we flung open the gate.
“Jacques!” scream'd the old gentleman: “my poor Jacques! Those dogs will mangle him with their cut and thrust——”
'Twas very singular and sad, but as if in answer to Sir Deakin's cry, we heard the brave fellow's voice; and a famous shout it must have been to reach us over the roaring of the flames—
“Mon maître-mon maître!” he call'd twice, and then “Sauve toi!” in a fainter voice, yet clear. ”

“ Jean Jacques waved a hand. "T'sh, you are not the Pope. You are not even an abbe. You were only a deacon a few years ago. You did not know how to hold a baby for the christening when you came to St. Saviour's first. For the mass, you have some right to speak; it is your duty perhaps; but the confession, that is another thing; that is the will of every soul to do or not to do. What do you know of a woman's soul-well, perhaps, you know what they have told you; but madame's soul—"
"Madame has never been to confession to me," interjected M. Savry indignantly. Jean Jacques chuckled. ”

“ Sir Asinus tore his hair.
"Then I'll go too," he cried.
"I've the last horse at the Raleigh," observed Jacques with melancholy pleasure. "Good morning, my dear friend. Take care of yourself."
And leaving Sir Asinus with a polite bow, Jacques went down the staircase. As for Sir Asinus, in the excess of his rage he sat down and composed a whole canto of an epic—which luckily has not descended to our day. The rats preserved humanity. (Back to Table of Content.)
(p. 062) CHAPTER IX. THE LUCK OF JACQUES.
Belle-bouche was busily at work upon a piece of embroidery when Jacques entered ”

“ You perceive I have banished those ignoble fears of proctors. I no longer shiver when I hear a footstep on the staircase."
Jacques smiled languidly.
"Only when you hear it on the portico—at Shadynook or elsewhere," he said.
"No more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me," said Sir Asinus cheerfully. "The greatest men are subject to (p. 055) these sudden panics, and I am no exception. Ah! what news?"
Jacques sat down sighing.
"None," he said, "except that we have a new student at college—Hoffland is his name, I believe—a friend of Mowbray's apparently. ”