he managed to buy off the Swiss, who had attacked the duchy of Burgundy.  He was also reconciled with the papacy and the House of Austria.  Early in 1514 the death of Anne of Brittany, his spouse, a lady of high ambitions, strong artistic tastes, and humane feelings towards her Bretons, but a bad Queen for France, cleared the way for changes.  Claude, the King’s eldest daughter, was now definitely married to Francois d’Angouleme, and invested with the duchy of Brittany; and the King himself, still hoping for a male heir to succeed him, married again, wedding Mary Tudor, the lovely young sister of Henry VIII.  This marriage was probably the chief cause of his death, which followed on New Year’s day, 1515.  His was, in foreign policy, an inglorious and disastrous reign; at home, a time of comfort and material prosperity.  Agriculture flourished, the arts of Italy came in, though (save in architecture) France could claim little artistic glory of her own; the organisation of justice and administration was carried out; in letters and learning France still lagged behind her neighbours.

The heir to the crown was Francois d’Angouleme, great-grandson of that Louis d’Orleans who had been assassinated in the bad days of the strife between Burgundians and Armagnacs, in 1407, and great-great-grandson of Charles V. of France.  He was still very young, very eager to be king, very full of far-reaching schemes.  Few things in history are more striking than the sudden change, at this moment, from the rule of middle-aged men or (as men of fifty were then often called) old men, to the rule of youths,—­from sagacious, worldly-prudent monarchs—­to impulsive boys,—­from Henry VII. to Henry VIII., from Louis XII. to Frangois I, from Ferdinand to Charles.

On the whole, Frangois I. was the least worthy of the three.  He was brilliant, “the king of culture,” apt scholar in Renaissance art and immorality; brave, also, and chivalrous, so long as the chivalry involved no self-denial, for he was also thoroughly selfish, and his personal aims and ideas were mean.  His reign was to be a reaction from that of Louis XII.

From the beginning, Francois chose his chief officers unwisely.  In Antoine du Prat, his new chancellor, he had a violent and lawless adviser; in Charles de Bourbon, his new constable, an untrustworthy commander.  Forthwith he plunged into Italian politics, being determined to make good his claim both to Naples and to Milan; he made most friendly arrangements with the Archduke Charles, his future rival, promising to help him in securing, when the time came, the vast inheritances of his two grandfathers, Maximilian, the Emperor-elect, and Ferdinand of Aragon; never was a less wise agreement entered upon.  This done, the Italian war began; Francois descended into Italy, and won the brilliant battle of Marignano, in which the French chivalry crushed the Swiss burghers and peasant mercenaries.  The French then overran the north of Italy, and, in conjunction with the Venetians,