Joyeuse, D'O., and others, have long been trying to prove the
proposition which your Majesty puts forth; but they have not yet
convinced me of the fact,--nor ever will. They, madam, are or have
been those who have put the King's crown in danger; and, as far as
regards myself, I have but to remind you that if I had any designs
upon the King's person, five hundred men sent out this morning by the
Porte de Nesle, and five hundred more by the Porte Neuve, would be
quite sufficient for all the purposes your Majesty attributes to me."
Catherine de Medici turned deadly pale, seeing how easily the palace
itself might be invested. At that instant one of the Duke's officers
again entered, and spoke to him for a moment or two apart. The Queen
quietly took up a pen from the table, wrote a few words on a slip of
paper, and opening the door of the cabinet demanded in a low voice,
"Is Pinart there?"
A gentleman instantly started forward, and putting the paper in his
hands, she spoke to him for a moment in a whisper, ending with the
words, "Use all speed!" Then re-entering the cabinet, she took her
seat while the Duke was yet speaking with his friend.
"Cousin of Guise," she said, as soon as he had done, and the stranger
had departed, "you have certainly given me strong proof that you have
no evil intentions; but such power is, alas! very dangerous to trust
one's self with. Read that paper, I beseech you, and tell me if there
be any other thing you can demand--any other condition which will
induce you to quit Paris even for a few days?"
"It were useless for me to read it, madam," replied the Duke. "Nothing
on earth that could be offered me would induce me to quit Paris at
this moment. But believe me, madam, my being here has nothing to do
with the continuance of the tumult. I have sent out all my friends and
officers and relations already to calm the disturbance. But it is the
King who is the cause of it, or, rather, the King's evil advisers. As
he has occasioned it, he must put a stop to it."
"What would you have him do?" demanded Catherine de Medici quickly.
"How would you have him act?"
"In the first place," replied the Duke, "let him recall his troops;
let them be withdrawn from every post they occupy! Their presence was
the cause of the people's rising, and as soon as they are gone, the
emotion will gradually subside."
"He has sent the order of recall already," replied Catherine; "but it
is impossible to execute it. Hemmed in by barricades on every side,
how can they retire, or take one step without danger?"
"That I trust," replied the Duke, "can soon----"
But he was interrupted in the midst of what he was saying by the
sudden entrance of Charles of Montsoreau.
"I beg your Highness to pardon me," he said. "Your Majesty will, I am
sure, forgive me, when I ask if you know what has become of
Mademoiselle de Clairvaut?"
There was anxiety and apprehension in every line of Charles of
Montsoreau's countenance, and the Queen's brow instantly gathered
together with a look of mingled surprise and apprehension.
"She followed me into the hotel; did she not?" exclaimed the Queen. "I
got out of the chair first, and she came immediately after. Surely I
saw her upon the stairs!"
"The porter, madam, declares, that there was no lady entered with your
Majesty; that two or three gentlemen came in; and that it was some
time before your chair, and the rest of your male attendants could
come up, on account of the crowd. I have ventured to ask Madame de
Montpensier and the rest of the ladies in the house, before I intruded
here: but no one has seen Mademoiselle de Clairvaut, and she is
certainly not in the house."
"Is this the way I am treated?" exclaimed the Duke of Guise, his brow
gathering into a tremendous frown. "Is this the way that I am sported
with at the very moment----"
"Nay! nay! nay! Cousin of Guise," exclaimed Catherine de Medici,
rising from her seat and clasping her hands. "So help me, Heaven, as I
have had no share in this! I descended from my chair in the midst of
the crowd--knowing terror and agitation, such as, indeed, I never knew
before--and I thought that this poor girl had followed. I was too much
engrossed with the thought of my son's throne tottering to its
foundation to pay much attention to any thing else; but Monsieur de
Logeres himself can tell you, that I treated her with all kindness,
and that mine was the order for her liberation."
"Indeed it was, my Lord," replied Charles of Montsoreau. "Her Majesty
displayed every sort of kindness, and Mademoiselle de Clairvaut was in
the same chair with her when I left her, scarce a hundred yards from
these gates. I fear, my Lord, however, that there are machinations
taking place, which I must explain to you. And in a low voice he told
the Duke what he had seen while returning from the Marche Neuf.
"This Nicolas Poulain is a villain," exclaimed the Duke after he had
listened. "I have received the proofs thereof this very morning. Ho!
without there!--Madam, by your leave," he continued, turning to the
Queen, "I would fain speak with these attendants of yours, but dare
not presume to command them hither in your presence."
The Queen immediately directed all those who had followed her chair,
or had borne it, to be called in, and the Duke questioned them
sharply, in a stern and lofty tone, regarding what they had seen of
Mademoiselle de Clairvaut after the Queen had passed on.
The answer of each was the same however, namely, that none of them had
seen any thing of her. Some had accompanied the Queen and kept the way
clear, and two others who, had remained with the chair, as well as the
bearers themselves, declared that the young Lady, after having
descended from the Queen's chair had gone on; that there was an
immediate rush of the people, which separated them from the rest of
the royal train; and that what between the pressure and confusion that
immediately took place, and the kicking of one of the chargers, which
made the people run back with cries and affright, they had seen
nothing more of the party to which they had belonged, till they had
made their way up to the Hotel de Guise and obtained admission.
The Duke paused with a gloomy and anxious brow. "Go, some one," he
said at length, "go up to Philibert of Nancy, who was placed above, to
watch what was taking place from the top of the house. Ask him what he
saw after the Queen's arrival, and bring me down word."
"May I go, my Lord?" demanded Charles of Montsoreau.
The Duke nodded his head, and the young nobleman sprang up the stairs,
and guided by one of the servants found the watchman, who had been
placed at the top of the house to report from time to time whatever
occurrences of importance he might perceive in the neighbouring
streets. All the information the man could give, however, was, that he
had seen a party separate from the rest of the people, almost
immediately after the Queen's entrance; that they seemed to be taking
great care of some person in the midst of them, who, he fancied, had
been hurt by the kicking and plunging of a horse which he had remarked
hard by. The party had turned the corner of the street without
attracting his attention farther; but, he added, that a moment or two
afterwards he thought he had heard a shrill cry coming from the
direction which they had taken.
With such tidings only, and with his heart more agonised than ever,
Charles of Montsoreau returned to the Duke, who was still standing
gloomily by the Queen, who, on her part looked up at his dark and
frowning countenance with a degree of calmness which did not seem
quite so natural as she could have wished.
"Whatever has happened, my Lord Duke," she said, after listening to
the young nobleman's report, "whatever has happened, on my honour, on
my salvation, I have had no share in it; and I promise you most
solemnly, not to rest a moment till I have discovered what has become
of your ward, and have made you acquainted therewith. If she be in the
Court of my son, I make bold to say, that she shall be instantly
restored to you: but I cannot believe that it is so, as it is
impossible for Villequier to have passed those barriers without being
torn to pieces by the people."
Still the Duke remained thinking gloomily without making any answer.
"Logeres," he said at length, "I must trust you with this business,
for I have more matters to deal with than I can well compass. From
what you said just now, and from what the boy Ignati told me, I know
how you stand with our poor Marie. You know what I said, and what I
promised long ago. Seek her, find her, and wed her! Monsieur de St.
Paul will tell you where your own men are; take her, wherever you find
her: by force, if it be necessary; and if any man, calling himself a
gentleman, oppose you, cleave him to the jaws. I will bear you out in
whatever you do: there is my signet: but stay; you had better see
Marteau Chapelle and Bussi about it. They know every house in Paris,
and I can spare them now from other affairs: bid them go with you and
aid you; and tell Chapelle---- What is it now, Brissac? You look
confounded and alarmed."
"The news I have will confound your Highness also, I am sure," replied
Brissac; "to alarm you is not possible, I fancy. I have just received
intelligence from the Porte de Nesle, my Lord, that the King has
quitted Paris, and taken the road to Chartres!"
The Duke of Guise turned towards Catherine de Medici, and gazed upon
her sternly, saying, "You have done this, madam! You amuse me, while
you destroy me!"[1]
---------------------
[Footnote 1: I have given the Duke's own words without variation.]
---------------------
"I _have_ done this, cousin of Guise," replied the Queen, "and I have
done wisely for all parties. I have removed from you a great
temptation to do an evil action--a temptation which I saw that you
yourself feared; and while I have removed that danger from you, my
advice has put my son in safety."
"Madam," replied the Duke, "I felt no temptation: my resolution was
firm, positive, and unshaken; and had I chosen to compromise the
King's safety, or do wrong to his legitimate authority, the Louvre
would have been invested six hours ago, for the people were already on
their march, if I had not stopped them. I wonder that he escaped in
safety, however, for they are very much infuriated at the sight of
these soldiers."
"He walked from the Louvre," replied Brissac, "on foot to the
Tuilleries, I hear, followed by some half dozen gentlemen; he then
mounted his horses in the stables, and rode out suddenly; but it is
said that they fired at him from the Porte de Nesle. The people,
however, as they hear it, are becoming quite furious, and I fear that
we shall not be able to keep them from massacring the soldiery."
"You see, madam," replied the Duke of Guise, still thinking alone of
the King's escape, "you see, madam, to what danger the King has
exposed himself. Had he remained in Paris no evil could have befallen
him. He was safe, on my life, and on my honour.
"I believe you, cousin of Guise; I believe you;" replied the Queen,
who thought she saw that the tone of the Duke of Guise was not quite
so peremptory as it had been, while the King had seemed entirely in
his power. "But now, in order to prove your good will entirely, let me
beseech you to exert yourself to save the unhappy men who have been
placed in such a situation of danger."
"That shall soon be done, madam," replied the Duke; "and as soon as
this is done, I too must take means for finding my ward. In the
meantime, madam, I will beseech you to use such measures at the Court,
as may insure that the people of Paris, and of the realm in general,
shall not be driven again to such acts as these, remembering, that as
you warned me not long ago, popularity is the most transient of all
things, and that mine may not last long enough to save the state a
second time from the dangers that menace it."
"I understand you, cousin of Guise; I understand you;" replied the
Queen. "It may not last long enough, or it may not be willingly
exerted: but I give you my promise, that every thing shall be done to
content you; and with that view I have already demanded that the
insolent, greedy, and ambitious Epernon shall be banished from the
Court, and stripped of his plundered authority.--But hark!" she
continued, "I hear the firing recommence. Wait not for further words,
or for any ceremonies; I will find my way back to the Louvre without
difficulty. Go, my Lord, go at once, and save the poor Swiss from the
fury of the people!"
The Duke bowed low, took up his hat and sword, and without other arms
walked out into the streets.
CHAP. III.
Passing out by the rooms belonging to the porter, instead of by the
Porte Cochere, the Duke of Guise, followed by a number of his
officers, presented himself to the people on the steps which we have
already noticed. The moment he appeared, the whole street rang with
acclamations, a path was instantly opened for him through the midst of
the people, and mounting his horse he rode on, the barricades opening
before him, as if by magic, wherever he came, and the people rending
the air with acclamations of his name.
From time to time he stopped as he went, either bending down his proud
head to speak to some of those whom he knew, or addressing the general
populace in the neighbourhood of the different barriers, exhorting
them to tranquillity, and beseeching, commanding, and entreating them
to desist from all attacks upon the soldiery. His words spread like
lightning from mouth to mouth; and though he went in person to several
of the different points where the unequal contest was actively going
on, the assault upon the troops was stopped in other quarters also, by
the mere report of his wishes.
Thus, as it were in triumph, totally unarmed amidst the armed
multitude, he went ruling their furious passions, as if by some
all-powerful charm. The most violent, the most exasperated, the most
sullen, uttered not one word in opposition to his will, and showed
nothing but promptness and zeal in executing his commands. Before he
reached the Place de Greve even, towards which his course was
directed, the screams, the cries, the shouts, the firing, had ceased
in every part of Paris, and nothing was heard throughout that wide
capital but the rending shouts of joy, with which the multitude
accompanied him on his way.
On entering the Place de Greve the Duke looked sternly up at the
windows of the Hotel de Ville, but did not enter the building. He
said, however, speaking to those immediately surrounding him, "A week
shall not have elapsed before we have cleared that house of the vermin
that infest it; and the people shall be freed from those who have
betrayed them."
Then dismounting from his horse, and ascending the steps leading to
the elevated space, called the Perron of the Hotel de Ville, he lifted
his hat from his head for a moment, as a sign that he wished to
address the people. All was silent in an instant; and then were heard
the full rich deep tones of that eloquent voice, pouring over the
heads of the multitude, and reaching the very farthest parts of the
square.
"My friends and fellow-citizens," he said. "You have this day acquired
a great and glorious victory. You have triumphed over the efforts of
despotic power, exerted, I am sure, not by the King's own will and
consent, but by the evil counsels, and altogether by the evil efforts,
of minions, peculators, and traitors. The real merit of those who win
great victories and achieve great deeds, is ascertained more by the
way in which they use their advantages, than by the way in which those
advantages have been gained. Were you a mean, degraded, unthinking
race of men, who had been stirred up by oppression into objectless
revolt, you would now content yourselves with wreaking your vengeance
on a few pitiable and unhappy soldiers, who in obedience to the
commands which they have received, have been cast into the midst of
you, like criminals of old, given up naked to a hungry lion. But you
are not such people; you have great objects before you; you know and
appreciate the mighty purposes for which you have fought and
conquered; and though driven by self-defence to resist the will of the
King, you are still men to venerate and respect the royal authority;
and even while you determine, for his sake as well as for your own,
never to rest satisfied till the Catholic Church is established beyond
the power of heretics to shake; till the Court is freed from the
minions and evil counsellors that infect it; till the finances of the
state are collected, and administered by a just and a frugal hand; and
till the whole honours, rewards, and emoluments of the country are no
longer piled upon one man--though you are determined to seek for and
obtain all this, nevertheless, I know, you are not men to trench in
the least upon the royal authority, farther than your own security
requires, or to injure the royal troops whom you have conquered, when
they are no longer in a situation to do you wrong. You will remember,
I am sure, that they are our fellow-christians and our fellow-men, and
you will treat them accordingly. I have therefore," he said,
"requested my friends and fellow-labourers in your cause, Monsieur de
Brissac and Monsieur de St. Paul, to conduct hither in safety the
French and Swiss troops from the different quarters in which they have
been dispersed. Their arms will be brought hither by our own friends,
and in the manner which we shall deal with these two bodies of
soldiery, I trust that we shall meet still with the approbation of our
brethren."
While thus speaking, the Duke of Guise had been interrupted more than
once by the applauses of the people, and in the end loud and
reiterated acclamations left no doubt that all he chose to do would
receive full support from those who heard him.
While he was yet speaking--according to the orders which he had given
as he came along--the arms of the Swiss and French guards were brought
in large quantities, by different bodies of the citizens: some
carrying them in hand-barrows, some bearing them upon their shoulders;
and it was a curious sight to see men and boys, and even women, loaded
with morions, and pikes, and swords, and arquebuses, bringing them
forward through the crowd, and piling them up before the princely man
who stood at the top of the steps, surrounded by many of the noblest
and most distinguished gentlemen in France.
This sight occupied the people for some minutes, and then a cry ran
through the square of "The Swiss! the Swiss!" The announcement caused
some agitation amongst the populace, and some forgetting that the
soldiery were disarmed, unslung their carbines, or half drew their
swords, as if to resist a new attack. The discomfited soldiers,
however, came on in a long line, two abreast, now totally disarmed,
and seeming by their countenances yet uncertain of the fate that
awaited them. With some difficulty a space was made for them in the
Place de Greve, and being drawn up in two lines, the Duke commanded
them to take their arms, but not their ammunition. Two by two they
advanced to the pile; and each man, as far as possible, selected his
own, when it appeared, to use the words of the Duke of Guise himself,
when recounting the events of that day to Bassompiere, that there
never had been such complete obedience amongst so agitated a
multitude; for not one sword, morion, pike, or arquebuse, of all the
Swiss and French there present, was found to be wanting.[2]
---------------------
[Footnote 2: This extraordinary fact reminds us of days not long
passed.]
---------------------
When all was complete, the Duke of Guise turned to the soldiery,
saying in a loud and somewhat stern tone, "The people of Paris
considering that you have acted under the commands of those you have
sworn to obey, permit you for this once to retire in safety from the
perilous situation in which you have been placed; but as there are
points which make a considerable difference between the Swiss troops
in the pay of France and the French troops themselves, there must be a
difference also in their treatment. The Swiss, as foreigners, could
have no motive or excuse for refusing to obey the commands imposed
upon them; the French had to remember their duty to their country and
to their religion. The Swiss, therefore, we permit to march out with
colours flying and arms raised; the French will follow them, with
their arms reversed and their colours furled."
A loud shout from the people answered this announcement; for
throughout the course of that eventful day, the Swiss had acted with
moderation and discipline, whereas the licentious French soldiery had
during the early morning, while they thought themselves in possession
of the capital, displayed all the brutal insolence of triumphant
soldiery.
The Duke of Guise spoke a few words to Brissac and to St. Paul, and
those two officers put themselves at the head, Brissac of the Swiss,
and St. Paul of the French guards. Each held a small cane in his hand,
and with no other arms they led the two bands from barrier to barrier
through the city, till they were safe within the precincts of the
Louvre.
Scarcely had these two parties quitted the Place de Greve, however,
drawing a number of people from that spot, when information was
brought to the Duke, that there were still two bands of soldiers in
the city, one in the Cemetery of the Innocents, and one under the
Chatelet, but both threatened by the people with instant destruction.
"We must make our way thither quickly," said the Duke; "for, if I
remember right, it is the band of Du Gas which is at the Chatelet, and
the people are furious against him."
He accordingly lost not a moment on the way; but turning to
Bois-dauphin, who accompanied him, he said in a low tone, as they
went, "I would have given my left hand to stay and examine the
interior of the Hotel de Ville, in order to punish some of the
traitors who, I know, are lurking there. Perhaps it is better,
however, to let them escape than that any mischief should be done; and
in these popular movements, if we once begin to shed blood, there is
no knowing where it will end."
"I fear there is bloodshed going on at present," said Bois-dauphin,
hearing a shot or two fired at no great distance. "They are at it
under the Chatelet now."
"Hurry on! hurry on!" said the Duke, speaking to some of those behind.
"Run on fast before, and announce that I am coming. Command them, in
my name, to stop."
Two or three of his followers ran forward, and no more shots were
heard; but scarcely two minutes after, just as the Duke had passed one
of the barricades, he saw two or three men hurrying up to him, led by
Chapelle Marteau, who approached him with no slight expression of
grief and apprehension in his countenance.
"I fear I have bad news for you, my Lord," he said.
"What is it?" demanded the Duke calmly. "Such a day as this could
hardly pass over without some alloy."
"I fear," replied the Leaguer, "that your Highness' friend. Monsieur
de Logeres, is mortally wounded. He brought me your signet and orders,
which I immediately obeyed. We gained information which led us to
suppose that the persons we sought for, were concealed in a house in
the Rue de la Ferroniere here hard by. We proceeded thither instantly
and demanded admission; but they, affecting to take us for a party of
soldiery, fired upon us from the window, when two shots struck the
Count, one lodging in his shoulder, and the other passing through his
body. He is yet living, and I have ordered him to be conveyed to the
Hotel de Guise at once, where a surgeon can attend upon him. Our
people were breaking into the house to take the murderers prisoners,
when, hearing of your approach, I came away to tell you the facts."
The Duke of Guise paused, and gazed sadly down upon the ground,
repeating the words, "Poor youth! poor youth! so are his bright hopes
cut short! He shall be avenged at least! Show me the house, Chapelle."
And he followed rapidly upon the steps of the Leaguer, who led him to
a small house, with the entrance, which was through a Gothic arch,
sunk somewhat back from the other houses. There were two windows above
the arch, and a window which flanked it on either side; but the
followers of the young Count of Logeres and of Chapelle Marteau had by
this time broken open the doors, and rushed into the building.