de
Thou, their first president, at its head. After hearing their
remonstrances, he replied to the delegates that, although young and
possessed of little experience, he was as truly king of France as any of
his predecessors, and that he intended to make himself obeyed as such. To
prove, however, that he had not acted inconsiderately in the premises, he
called upon the members of his council who were present to speak; and each
in turn, commencing with Cardinal Bourbon, the first prince of the blood,
declared that the edict of Amboise had been made with his consent and
advice, and that he deemed it both useful and necessary. Whereupon Charles
informed the parliamentary committee that he had not adopted this course
because he was under any obligation to render to them an account of his
actions. "But," said he, "now that I am of age, I wish you to meddle with
nothing beyond giving my subjects good and speedy justice. The kings, my
predecessors, placed you where you are, in order that they might unburden
their consciences, and that their subjects might live in greater security
under their obedience, not in order to constitute you my tutors, or the
protectors of the realm, or the guardians of my city of Paris. You have
allowed yourselves to suppose until now that you are all this. I shall not
leave you under the delusion; but I command you that, as in my father's
and grandfather's time you were accustomed to attend to justice alone, so
you shall henceforth meddle with nothing else." He professed to be
perfectly willing to listen to their representations when modestly given;
but he concluded by threatening them that, if they persisted in their
present insolent course, he would find means to convince them that they
were not his guardians and teachers, but his servants.[296] These stout
words were shrewdly suspected to come from "the shop of the
chancellor,"[297] whose popularity they by no means augmented. But Charles
was himself in earnest. A fresh delegation of counsellors was dismissed
from the royal presence with menaces,[298] and the parliament and people
of Paris were both finally compelled to succumb. Parliament registered the
edict; the people surrendered their arms--the poor receiving the estimated
value of the weapons, the tradesmen and burgesses a ticket to secure their
future restoration. As a matter of course, the nobles do not appear at all
in the transaction, their immemorial claim to be armed even in time of
peace