at Louis XI, an habitual derider of whatever did not
promise real power or substantial advantage, was in especial a professed
contemner of heralds and heraldry, "red, blue, and green, with all their
trumpery," to which the pride of his rival Charles, which was of a very
different kind, attached no small degree of ceremonious importance.

The herald, who was now introduced into the presence of the monarchs,
was dressed in a tabard, or coat, embroidered with the arms of his
master, in which the Boar's Head made a distinguished appearance,
in blazonry, which in the opinion of the skilful was more showy than
accurate. The rest of his dress--a dress always sufficiently tawdry--was
overcharged with lace, embroidery, and ornament of every kind, and the
plume of feathers which he wore was so high, as if intended to sweep the
roof of the hall. In short, the usual gaudy splendour of the heraldic
attire was caricatured and overdone. The Boar's Head was not only
repeated on every part of his dress, but even his bonnet was formed into
that shape, and it was represented with gory tongue and bloody tusks, or
in proper language, langed and dentated gules, and there was something
in the man's appearance which seemed to imply a mixture of boldness and
apprehension, like one who has undertaken a dangerous commission, and
is sensible that audacity alone can carry him through it with safety.
Something of the same mixture of fear and effrontery was visible in the
manner in which he paid his respects, and he showed also a grotesque
awkwardness, not usual amongst those who were accustomed to be received
in the presence of princes.

"Who art thou, in the devil's name?" was the greeting with which Charles
the Bold received this singular envoy.

"I am Rouge Sanglier," answered the herald, "the officer at arms of
William de la Marck, by the grace of God, and the election of the
Chapter, Prince Bishop of Liege."

"Ha!" exclaimed Charles, but, as if subduing his own passion, he made a
sign to him to proceed.

"And, in right of his wife, the Honourable Countess Hameline of Croye,
Count of Croye, and Lord of Bracquemont."

The utter astonishment of Duke Charles at the extremity of boldness with
which these titles were announced in his presence seemed to strike him
dumb; and the herald conceiving, doubtless, that he had made a suitable
impression by the annunciation of his character, proceeded to state his
errand.

"Annuncio vobis gaudium magnu