e, which were described in Chapter XI.

In No. 30 Rue Damiette he died in 1584, having scarcely completed the
house before his daughter married one of the King's secretaries. In
January 1646, an old lease shows that the house was owned by Henry
Dambray, "Conseiller au Parlement," and it was by him let for a year
to Lord Clarendon. It was called the Hotel de Senneville until the
Revolution, when it became the property of the families of Pommereux
and d'Alligre. Though Lord Clarendon was first buried in Rouen, when
his grand-daughters (through the marriage of the Duke of York, brother
of Charles II., with his elder daughter) became Queens of England, his
remains were transported from Rouen to Westminster Abbey, where they
now are.

The last scene by which this tale of Rouen was connected with the
history of France was when Captain Valdory held the town against Henri
IV. And in leaving for a moment more domestic details of the city's
story, I can suggest the transition no better than by telling you of
another literary claim which Rouen archaeologists will not permit a
visitor to forget, the authorship of the famous "Satyre Menippee,"
which did as much as any political pamphlet could ever do to reveal to
the people the true character of the Ligue, and to restore their
affection to that King Henri whom for so long they had refused within
their gates. This immortal piece of sarcasm and good sense was written
after the Etats de la Ligue of January 1593. De Thou said, "le premier
auteur de l'ecrit est, croit-on, un pretre du pays de Normandie, homme
de bien...." And the edition of 1677 gives his name as "Monsieur
LeRoy, chanoine de Rouen, qui avoit este aumosnier du Cardinal de
Bourbon." In the portions before each harangue, he mentions the
tapestry in Rouen Cathedral, the Revolte de la Harelle, the Foire St.
Romain, and other details, with an accuracy and affection which betray
the citizen. He went blind in 1620, and died in penury in 1627.

The troubles of the League had barely died away before the agitation
of the Fronde began, and after the Fronde princes had been arrested
in January 1650, the Duchesse de Longueville tried to continue the
role of her husband, though his party had fairly been laughed out of
Rouen. Her own attempts were thwarted by Mazarin, who brought the
little Louis XIV., then only twelve years old, to Rouen for fifteen
days in February 1650. The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes repaid
this hospitality