me Genoese gentlemen. But calling at Rhodes on the way, the Grand
Master of the Hospitallers persuaded him to try the effect of mediation
first of all, and proceeded to Cyprus himself for that purpose. Whereupon
the Marshal, 'to beguile the time, and give employment to the fiery
spirits on board his squadron' (says a later chronicler) 'ran down at a
venture to the Syrian city of Scanderoon, which place he carried by
assault and plundered.' Encouraged by this success, on the Grand Master's
return he persuaded that great personage to accompany him on a further
expedition, and together they harried the whole coast of Syria, the
Hospitaller confining his attention to the Infidels whilst the Marshal
razed the factories which the Venetians (enemies to the Genoese) had
established at Baruth and other places. Thus passing a very pleasant
summer.

In Italy he took an active part in the turmoil betwixt Guelphs and
Ghibellines, and seized Milan for the former (1409). At Agincourt in 1415
he commanded the vanguard of the French army, and was taken prisoner.
Being sent to England, he remained there until his death six years later.
This great soldier was a man of many accomplishments, an ardent musician
as well as a poet; and his leisure was passed chiefly in composing
ballads, rondeaux, and virelays. Yet his 'Livre des Faicts' remains
unenglish'd.

Another truly great man of a later period was that great warrior of
saintly life and death, Henri, Duc de Montmorency. After a long and noble
career of arms in the service of his king no less than of his countrymen,
he fell a victim to the jealousy of Cardinal de Richelieu. 'Dieu vouloit
que sa mort fust aussi admirable que sa vie,' writes his biographer; 'que
ses dernieres actions couronnassent toutes les autres; et que ses vertus
Chrestiennes jettassent encor plus d'eclat que n'avoient fait les
Heroiques.' Brought to the scaffold he refused to avail himself of the
indulgence of having his hands at liberty. 'So great a sinner as I,' he
said, 'cannot die with too much ignominy.' Of his own accord he took off
his splendid dress. 'How can I,' said he, 'being so great a sinner go to
my death in such attire when my guiltless Saviour died naked upon the
Cross.' Yet save we are contented to turn to a poorly printed
seventeenth-century edition of his Life, there is no place (to my
knowledge at least) where we can read of this truly great man, and, of
course, no version other than that in the Fr