"With some proofs, forged or real, in her hand that he was in

personal danger, the Queen Mother [August 24] presented

herself to her son. She told him that at the moment she was

speaking the Huguenots were arming. Sixteen thousand of them

intended to assemble in the morning, seize the palace, destroy

herself, the Duke of Anjou, and the Catholic noblemen, and

carry off Charles. The conspiracy, she said, extended through

France. The chiefs of the congregations were waiting for a

signal from Coligny to rise in every province and town. The

Catholics had discovered the plot, and did not mean to sit

still to be murdered. If the King refused to act with them,

they would choose another leader; and whatever happened he

would be himself destroyed. Unable to say that the story could

not be true, Charles looked enquiringly at Tavannas and De

Nevers, and they both confirmed the Queen Mother's words.

Shaking his incredulity with reminders of Amboise and Meaux,

Catherine went on to say that one man was the cause of all the

troubles in the realm. The Admiral aspired to rule all France,

and she--she admitted, with Anjou and the Guises, had

conspired to kill him to save the King and the country. She

dropped all disguise. The King, she said, must now assist them

or all would be lost. ... Charles was a weak, passionate boy,

alone in the dark conclave of iniquity. He stormed, raved,

wept, implored, spoke of his honour, his plighted word; swore

at one moment that the Admiral should not be touched, then

prayed them to try other means. But clear, cold and venomous,

Catherine told him it was too late. If there was a judicial

enquiry, the Guises would shield themselves by telling all

that they knew. They would betray her; they would betray his

brother; and, fairly or unfairly, they would not spare

himself. ... For an hour and a half the King continued to

struggle. 'You refuse, then,' Catherine said at last. ... 'Is

it that you are afraid, Sire?' she hissed in his ear. 'By

God's death,' he cried, springing to his feet, 'since you will

kill the Admiral, kill them all.

{1203}

Kill all the Huguenots in France, that none may be left to

reproach me. Mort Dieu! Kill them all.' He dashed out of the

cabinet. A list of those who were to die was instantly drawn

up. Navarre and Condé were first included; but Catherine

prudently reflected that to kill the Bourbons would make the

Guises too strong. Five or six names were added to the

Admiral's, and these Catherine afterwards asserted were all

that it was intended should suffer. ... Night had now fallen.

Guise and Aumale were still lurking in the city, and came with

the Duke of Montpensier at Catherine's summons. The persons

who were to be killed were in different parts of the town.

Each took charge of a district. Montpensier promised to see to

the Palace; Guise and his uncle undertook the Admiral; and below

these, the word went out to the leaders of the already

organised sections, who had been disappointed once, but whose

hour was now come. The Catholics were to recognise one another

in the confusion by a white handkerchief on the left arm and a

white cross in their caps. The Royal Guard, Catholics to a

man, were instruments ready made for the work. Guise assembled

the officers: he told them that the Huguenots were preparing

to rise, and that the King had ordered their instant

punishment. The officers asked no questions, and desired no

better service. The business was to begin at dawn. The signal

would be the tolling of the great bell at the Palace of

Justice, and the first death was to be Coligny's. The soldiers

stole to their posts. Twelve hundred lay along the Seine,

between the river and the Hotel de Ville; other companies

watched at the Louvre. As the darkness waned, the Queen Mother

went down to the gate. The stillness of the dawn was broken by

an accidental pistol-shot. Her heart sank, and she sent off a

messenger to tell Guise to pause. But it was too late. A

minute later the bell boomed out, and the massacre of St.

Bartholomew had commenced." The assassins broke into the

Admiral's dwelling and killed him as he lay wounded in bed.

"The window was open. 'Is it done?' cried Guise from the court

below, 'is it done? Fling him out that we may see him.' Still

breathing, the Admiral was hurled upon the pavement. The

Bastard of Angoulême wiped the blood from his face to be sure

of his identity, and then, kicking him as he lay, shouted, 'So

far well. Courage, my brave boys! now for the rest.' One of

the Duc de Nevers's people hacked off the head. A rope was

knotted about the ankles, and the corpse

was dragged out into the street amidst the howling crowd.

Teligny, ... Rochefoucault, and the rest of the Admiral's

friends who lodged in the neighbourhood were disposed of in

the same way, and so complete was the surprise that there was

not the most faint attempt at resistance. Montpensier had been

no less successful in the Louvre. The staircases were all

beset. The retinues of the King of Navarre and the Prince had

been lodged in the palace at Charles's particular desire.

Their names were called over, and as they descended unarmed

into the quadrangle they were hewn in pieces. There, in heaps,

they fell below the Royal window, under the eyes of the

miserable King, who was forced forward between his mother and

his brother that he might be seen as the accomplice of the

massacre. Most of the victims were killed upon the spot. Some

fled wounded up the stairs, and were slaughtered in the

presence of the Princesses. ... By seven o'clock the work

which Guise and his immediate friends had undertaken was

finished with but one failure. The Count Montgomery and the

Vidame of Chartres ... escaped to England. The mob meanwhile

was in full enjoyment. ... While dukes and lords were killing

at the Louvre, the bands of the sections imitated them with

more than success; men, women, and even children, striving

which should be the first in the pious work of murder. All

Catholic Paris was at the business, and every Huguenot

household had neighbours to know and denounce them. Through

street and lane and quay and causeway, the air rang with yells

and curses, pistol-shots and crashing windows; the roadways

were strewed with mangled bodies, the doors were blocked by

the dead and dying. From garret, closet, roof, or stable,

crouching creatures were torn shrieking out, and stabbed and

hacked at; boys practised their hands by strangling babies in

their cradles, and headless bodies were trailed along the

trottoirs. ... Towards midday some of the quieter people

attempted to restore order. A party of the town police made

their way to the palace. Charles caught eagerly at their

offers of service, and bade them do their utmost to put the

people down; but it was all in vain. The soldiers, maddened

with plunder and blood, could not be brought to assist, and

without them nothing could be done. All that afternoon and

night, and the next day and the day after, the horrible scenes

continued, till the flames burnt down at last for want of

fuel. The number who perished in Paris was computed variously

from 2,000 to 10,000. In this, as in all such instances, the

lowest estimate is probably the nearest to the truth. The

massacre was completed--completed in Paris--only, as it

proved, to be continued elsewhere. ... On the 24th, while the

havoc was at its height, circulars went round to the provinces

that a quarrel had broken out between the Houses of Guise and

Coligny; that the Admiral and many more had been unfortunately

killed, and that the King himself had been in danger through

his efforts to control the people. The governors of the

different towns were commanded to repress at once any symptoms

of disorder which might show themselves, and particularly to

allow no injury to be done to the Huguenots." But Guise, when

he learned of these circulars, which threw upon him the odium

of the massacre, forced the King to recall them. "The story of

the Huguenot conspiracy was revived. ... The Protestants of

the provinces, finding themselves denounced from the throne,

were likely instantly to take arms to defend themselves.

Couriers were therefore despatched with second orders that

they should be dealt with as they had been dealt with at

Paris; and at Lyons, Orleans, Rouen, Bordeaux, Toulon, Meaux,

in half the towns and villages of France, the bloody drama was

played once again. The King, thrown out into the hideous

torrent of blood, became drunk with frenzy, and let slaughter

have its way, till even Guise himself affected to be shocked,

and interposed to put an end to it; not, however, till,

according to the belief of the times, 100,000 men, women and

children had been miserably murdered. ... The number again may

be hoped to have been prodigiously exaggerated; with all large

figures, when unsupported by exact statistics, it is safe to

divide at least by ten."

_J. A. Froude,

History of England: Reign of Elizabeth,

chapter 23 (volume 4)._

ALSO IN:

_H. White,

The Massacre of St. Bartholomew,

chapters 12-14._

_Duke of Sully,

Memoirs,

book 1._

_G. P. Fisher,

The Massacre of St. Bartholomew

(New Englander, January, 1880)._

{1204}

FRANCE: A. D. 1572 (August-October).

The king's avowal of responsibility for the Massacre, and

celebration of his "victory."

Rejoicings at Rome and Madrid.

General horror of Europe.

The effects in France.

Changed character of the Protestant party.

"On the morning of the 26th of August, Charles IX. went to

hold a 'bed of justice' in the parliament, carrying with him

the king of Navarre, and he then openly avowed that the

massacre had been perpetrated by his orders, made ... excuse

for it, grounded on a pretended conspiracy of the Huguenots

against his person, and then directed the parliament to

commence judicial proceedings against Coligni and his

accomplices, dead or alive, on the charge of high treason. The

parliament obeyed, and, after a process of two months, which

was a mere tissue of falsehoods, they not only found all the

dead guilty, but they included in the sentence two of the

principal men who had escaped--the old captain Briquemaut,

and Arnaud de Cavaignes. ... Both were hanged at the Place de

Grève, in the presence of the king, who compelled the king of

Navarre also to be a witness of their execution. Having once

assumed the responsibility of the massacre of the protestants,

Charles IX. began to glory in the deed. On the 27th of August,

he went with the whole court to Montfaucon, to contemplate the

mutilated remains of the admiral. ... Next day, a grand

jubilee procession was headed by the king in celebration of

his so-called victory. ... The 'victory' was also celebrated

by two medals. ... Nevertheless, the minds of Charles and his

mother were evidently ill at ease, and their misgivings as to

the effect which would be produced at foreign courts by the

news of these proceedings are very evident in the varying and

often contradictory orders which they dispatched into the

provinces. ... The news of these terrible events caused an

extreme agitation in all the courts throughout Christian

Europe. Philip of Spain, informed of the massacres by a letter

from the king and the queen-mother, written on the 29th of

August, replied by warm congratulations and expressions of

joy. The cardinal of Lorraine, who was ... at Rome, gave a

reward of 1,000 écus of gold to the courier who brought the

despatches, and the news was celebrated at Rome by the firing

of the cannons of the castle of St. Angelo, and by the

lighting of bon-fires in the streets. The pope (Gregory XIII.)

and the sacred college went in grand procession to the

churches to offer their thanks to God. ... Not content with

these demonstrations, the pope caused a medal to be struck.

... Gregory dispatched immediately to the court of France the

legate Fabio d'Orsini, with a commission to congratulate the

king and his mother for the vigour they had shown in the

repression of heresy, to demand the reception in France of the

council of Trent, and the establishment of the Inquisition.

... But the papal legate found the court of France in a

different temper from that which he anticipated. Catherine,

alarmed at the effect which these great outrages had produced

on the protestant sovereigns, found it necessary to give him

private intimations that the congratulations of the pontiff

were untimely, and could not be publicly accepted. ... The

policy of the French court at home was no less distasteful to

the papal legate than its relations abroad. The old edicts

against the public exercise of the protestant worship were

gradually revived, and the Huguenots were deprived of the

offices which they had obtained during the short period of

toleration, but strict orders were sent round to forbid any

further massacres, with threats of punishment against those

who had already offended. On the 8th of October, the king

published a declaration, inviting such of the protestants as

had quitted the kingdom in consequence of the massacres to

return, and promising them safety; but this was soon followed

by letters to the governors of the provinces, directing them

to exhort the Huguenot gentry and others to conform to the

catholic faith, and declaring that he would tolerate only one

religion in his kingdom. Many, believing that the protestant

cause was entirely ruined in France, complied, and this

defection was encouraged by the example of the two princes of

Bourbon [Henry, now king of Navarre, his mother, Jeanne

d'Albret, having died June 9, 1572, and Henry, the young

prince of Condé], who, after some weeks of violent resistance,

submitted at the end of September, and, at least in outward

form, became catholics. It has been remarked that the massacre

of St. Bartholomew's-day produced an entire change in the

character of the protestant party in France. The Huguenots had

hitherto been entirely ruled by their aristocracy, who took

the lead and direction in every movement; but now the great

mass of the protestant nobility had perished or deserted the

cause, and from this moment the latter depended for support

upon the inhabitants of some of the great towns and upon the

un-noble class of the people; and with this change it took a

more popular character, in some cases showing even a tendency

to republicanism. In the towns where the protestants were

strong enough to offer serious resistance, such as La

Rochelle, Nimes, Sancerre, and Montauban, the richer burghers,

and a part at least of the municipal officers, were in favour

of submission, and they were restrained only by the resolution

and devotion of the less wealthy portion of the population."

_T. Wright,

History of France,

book 3, chapter 7 (volume 1)._

ALSO IN:

_H. M. Baird,

History of the Rise of the Huguenots,

chapter 19 (volume 2)._

_A. de Montor,

Lives and Times of the Roman Pontiffs,

volume 1, pages 810-812._

{1205}

FRANCE: A. D. 1572-1573.

The Fourth Religious War.

Siege and successful defence of La Rochelle.

A favorable peace.

"The two Reformer-princes, Henry of Navarre and Henry de

Condé, attended mass on the 29th of September, and, on the 3d

of October, wrote to the pope, deploring their errors and

giving hopes of their conversion. Far away from Paris, in the

mountains of the Pyrenees and of Languedoc, in the towns where

the Reformers were numerous and confident ... the spirit of

resistance carried the day. An assembly, meeting at Milhau,

drew up a provisional ordinance for the government of the

Reformed church, 'until it please God, who has the hearts of

kings in His keeping, to change that of King Charles IX. and

restore the state of France to good order, or to raise up such

neighboring prince as is manifest marked out, by his virtue

and by distinguishing signs, for to be the liberator of this

poor afflicted people.' In November, 1572, the fourth

religious war broke out. The siege of La Rochelle was its only

important event. Charles IX. and his councillors exerted

themselves in vain to avoid it. There was everything to

disquiet them in this enterprise: so sudden a revival of the

religious war after the grand blow they had just struck, the

passionate energy manifested by the Protestants in asylum at

La Rochelle, and the help they had been led to hope for from

Queen Elizabeth, whom England would never have forgiven for

indifference in this cause. ... The king heard that one of the

bravest Protestant chiefs, La Noue, 'Ironarm,' had retired to

Mons with Prince Louis of Nassau. The Duke of Longueville ...

induced him to go to Paris. The king received him with great

favor ... and pressed him to go to La Rochelle and prevail

upon the inhabitants to keep the peace. ... La Noue at last

consented, and repaired, about the end of November, 1572, to a

village close by La Rochelle, whither it was arranged that

deputies from the town would come and confer with him. ...

After hearing him, the senate rejected the pacific overtures

made to them by La Noue. 'We have no mind [they said] to treat

specially and for ourselves alone; our cause is that of God

and of all the churches of France; we will accept nothing but

what shall seem proper to all our brethren.'" They then

offered to trust themselves under La Noue's command,

notwithstanding the commission by which he was acting for the

king. "La Noue did not hesitate; he became, under the

authority of the mayor, Jacques Henri, the military head of La

Rochelle, whither Charles IX. had sent him to make peace. The

king authorized him to accept this singular position. La Noue

conducted himself so honorably in it, and everybody was so

convinced of his good faith as well as bravery, that for three

months he commanded inside La Rochelle, and superintended the

preparations for defence, all the while trying to make the

chances of peace prevail. At the end of February, 1573, he

recognized the impossibility of his double commission, and he

went away from La Rochelle, leaving the place in better

condition than that in which he had found it, without either

king or Rochellese considering that they had any right to

complain of him. Biron first and then the Duke of Anjou in

person took the command of the siege. They brought up, it is

said, 40,000 men and 60 pieces of artillery. The Rochellese,

for defensive strength, had but 22 companies of refugees or

inhabitants, making in all 3,100 men. The siege lasted from

the 26th of February to the 13th of June, 1573; six assaults

were made on the place. ... La Rochelle was saved. Charles IX.

was more and more desirous of peace; his brother, the Duke of

Anjou, had just been elected King of Poland; Charles IX. was

anxious for him to leave France and go to take possession of

his new kingdom. Thanks to these complications, the peace of

La Rochelle was signed on the 6th of July, 1573. Liberty of

creed and worship was recognized in the three towns of La

Rochelle, Montauban, and Nimes. They were not obliged to

receive any royal garrison, on condition of giving hostages to

be kept by the king for two years. Liberty of worship throughout

the extent of their jurisdiction continued to be recognized in

the case of lords high-justiciary. Everywhere else the

Reformers had promises of not being persecuted for their

creed, under the obligation of never holding an assembly of

more than ten persons at a time. These were the most favorable

conditions they had yet obtained. Certainly this was not what

Charles IX, had calculated upon when he consented to the

massacre of the Protestants."

_F. P. Guizot,

Popular History of France,

chapter 33._

FRANCE: A. D. 1573-1576.

Escape of Condé and Navarre.

Death of Charles IX.

Accession of Henry III.

The Fifth Civil War.

Navarre's repudiation of Catholicism.

The Peace of Monseur.

The King's mignons and the nation's disgust.

"Catherine ... had the address to procure the crown of Poland

for the son of her predilection, Henry duke of Anjou. She had

lavished her wealth upon the electors for this purpose. No

sooner was the point gained than she regretted it. The health

of Charles was now manifestly on the decline, and Catherine

would fain have retained Henry; but the jealousy of the king

forbade. After conducting the duke on his way to Poland the

court returned to St. Germain, and Charles sunk, without hope

or consolation, on his couch of sickness. Even here he was not

allowed to repose. The young king of Navarre formed a project

of escape with the prince of Condé. The duc d' Alençon,

youngest brother of the king, joined in it. ... The vigilance

of the queen-mother discovered the enterprise, which, for her

own purposes, she magnified into a serious plot. Charles was

informed that a huguenot army was coming to surprise him, and

he was obliged to be removed into a litter, in order to

escape. ... Condé was the only prince that succeeded in making

his escape. The king of Navarre and the duc d' Alençon were

imprisoned." The young king of Navarre "had already succeeded

by his address, his frankness, and high character, in rallying

to his interests the most honourable of the noblesse, who

dreaded at once the perfidious Catherine and her children; who

had renounced their good opinion of young Guise after the day

of St. Bartholomew; and who, at the same time professing

Catholicism, were averse to huguenot principles and zeal. This

party, called the Politiques, professed to follow the middle

or neutral course, which at one time had been that of

Catherine of Medicis; but she had long since deserted it, and

had joined in all the sanguinary and extreme measures of her

son and of the Guises. Hence she was especially odious to the

new and moderate party of the Politiques, among whom the

family of Montmorency held the lead. Catherine feared their

interference at the moment of the king's death, whilst his

successor was absent in a remote kingdom; and she swelled the

project of the princes' escape into a serious conspiracy, in

order to be mistress of those whom she feared. ... In this

state of the court Charles IX. expired on the 30th of May,

1574, after having nominated the queen-mother to be regent

during his successor's absence. ... The career of the new king

[Henry III.], while duke of Anjou, had been glorious. Raised

to the command of armies at the age of 15, he displayed

extreme courage as well as generalship.

{1206}

He had defeated the veteran leader of the protestants at

Jarnac and at Moncontour; and the fame of his exploits had

contributed to place him on the elective throne of Poland,

which he now occupied. Auguring from his past life, a

brilliant epoch might be anticipated; and yet we enter upon

the most contemptible reign, perhaps, in the annals of France.

... Henry was obliged to run away by stealth from his Polish

subjects [see POLAND: A. D. 1574-1590]. When overtaken by one

of the nobles of that kingdom, the monarch, instead of

pleading his natural anxiety to visit France and secure his

inheritance, excused himself by drawing forth the portrait of

his mistress, ... and declared that it was love which hastened

his return. At Vienna, however, Henry forgot both crown and

mistress amidst the feasts that were given him; and he turned

aside to Venice, to enjoy a similar reception from that rich

republic. ... The hostile parties were in the meantime arming.

The Politiques, or neutral catholics, for the first time

showed themselves in the field. They demanded the freedom of

Cossé and of Montmorency, and at length formed a treaty of

alliance with the Huguenots. Henry, after indulging in the

ceremony of being crowned, was obliged to lead an army into

the field. Sieges were undertaken on both sides, and what is

called the fifth civil war raged openly. It became more

serious when the king's brother joined it. This was the duke

of Alençon, a vain and fickle personage, of whom it pleased

the king to become jealous. Alençon fled and joined the

malcontents. The reformers, however, waited but languidly.

Both parties were without active and zealous leaders; and the

only notable event of this war was a skirmish in Champagne

[the battle of Dormans, in which both sides lost heavily],

where the duke of Guise received a slight wound in the cheek.

From hence came his surname of 'Le Balafré.'" In February,

1576, the king of Navarre made his escape from court. "He bent

his course towards Guienne, and at Niort publicly avowed his

adherence to the reformed religion, declaring that force alone

had made him conform to the mass. It was about this time that

the king, in lieu of leading an army against the malcontents,

despatched the queen-mother, with her gay and licentious

court, to win back his brother. She succeeded, though not

without making large concessions [in a treaty called the

'Peace of Monsieur']. The duke of Alençon obtained Anjou, and

other provinces in appanage, and henceforth was styled duke of

Anjou. More favourable terms were granted to the Huguenots:

they were allowed ten towns of surety in lieu of six, and the

appointment of a certain number of judges in the parliament.

Such weakness in Henry disgusted the body of the catholics;

and the private habits of his life contributed still more, if

possible, than his public measures, to render him

contemptible. He was continually surrounded by a set of young

and idle favourites, whose affectation it was to unite

ferocity with frivolity. The king showed them such tender

affection as he might evince towards woman; they even had the

unblushing impudence to adopt feminine habits of dress; and

the monarch passed his time in adorning them and himself with

robes and ear-rings. ... The indescribable tastes and

amusements of Henry and his mignons, as his favourites were

called, ... raised up throughout the nation one universal cry

of abhorrence and contempt."

_E. E. Crowe,

History of France,

chapters 8-9 (volume 1)._

ALSO IN:

_Lady Jackson,

The Last of the Valois,

volume 2, chapters 2-6._

_S. Menzies,

Royal Favourites,

volume 1, chapter 5._

History for ready reference, Volume 2, El Dorado to Greaves · 第 121 / 222 段