While the Emperor strove to appease the Protestant Princes of Germany by

the Peace of Kadan (1534), Francois strengthened himself with a definite

alliance with Soliman; and when, on the death of Francesco Sforza, Duke

of Milan, who left no heirs, Charles seized the duchy as its overlord,

Francois, after some bootless negotiation, declared war on his great

rival (1536). His usual fortunes prevailed so long as he was the

attacking party: his forces were soon swept out of Piedmont, and the

Emperor carried the war over the frontier into Provence. That also

failed, and Charles was fain to withdraw after great losses into Italy.

The defence of Provence--a defence which took the form of a ruthless

destruction of all its resources--had been entrusted to Anne de

Montmorency, who henceforward became Constable of France, and exerted

great influence over Francois I. Though these two campaigns, the French

in Italy and the imperialist in Provence, had equally failed in 1536,

peace did not follow till 1538, when, after the terrible defeat of

Ferdinand of Austria by the Turks, Charles was anxious to have free hand

in Germany. Under the mediation of Paul III. the agreement of Nice was

come to, which included a ten years’ truce and the abandonment by

Francois of all his foreign allies and aims. He seemed a while to have

fallen completely under the influence of the sagacious Emperor. He gave

way entirely to the Church party of the time, a party headed by gloomy

Henri, now Dauphin, who never lost the impress of his Spanish captivity,

and by the Constable Anne de Montmorency; for a time the artistic or

Renaissance party, represented by Anne, Duchesse d’Etampes, and Catherine

de’ Medici, fell into disfavour. The Emperor even ventured to pass

through France, on his way from Spain to the Netherlands. All this

friendship, however, fell to dust, when it was found that Charles refused

to invest the Duc d’Orleans, the second son of Francois, with the duchy

of Milan, and when the Emperor’s second expedition against the sea-power

of the Turks had proved a complete failure, and Charles had returned to

Spain with loss of all his fleet and army. Then Francois hesitated no

longer, and declared war against him (1541). The shock the Emperor had

suffered inspirited all his foes; the Sultan and the Protestant German

Princes were all eager for war; the influence of Anne de Montmorency had

to give way before that of the House of Guise, that frontier family, half

French, half German, which was destined to play a large part in the

troubled history of the coming half-century. Claude, Duc de Guise, a

veteran of the earliest days of Francois, was vehemently opposed to

Charles and the Austro-Spanish power, and ruled in the King’s councils.

This last war was as mischievous as its predecessors no great battles

were fought; in the frontier affairs the combatants were about equally

fortunate; the battle of Cerisolles, won by the French under Enghien

(1544), was the only considerable success they had, and even that was

almost barren of results, for the danger to Northern France was imminent;

there a combined invasion had been planned and partly executed by Charles

and Henry VIII., and the country, almost undefended, was at their mercy.

The two monarchs, however, distrusted one another; and Charles V.,

anxious about Germany, sent to Francois proposals for peace from Crespy

Couvrant, near Laon, where he had halted his army; Francois, almost in

despair, gladly made terms with him. The King gave up his claims on

Flanders and Artois, the Emperor his on the duchy of Burgundy; the King

abandoned his old Neapolitan ambition, and Charles promised one of the

Princesses of the House of Austria, with Milan as her dower, to the Duc

d’Orleans, second son of Francois. The Duke dying next year, this

portion of the agreement was not carried out. The Peace of Crespy, which

ended the wars between the two great rivals, was signed in autumn, 1544,

and, like the wars which led to it, was indecisive and lame.

Charles learnt that with all his great power he could not strike a fatal

blow at France; France ought to have learnt that she was very weak for

foreign conquest, and that her true business was to consolidate and

develop her power at home. Henry VIII. deemed himself wronged by this

independent action on the part of Charles, who also had his grievances

with the English monarch; he stood out till 1546, and then made peace

with Francois, with the aim of forming a fresh combination against

Charles. In the midst of new projects and much activity, the marrer of

man’s plots came on the scene, and carried off in the same year, 1547,

the English King and Francois I., leaving Charles V. undisputed arbiter

of the affairs of Europe. In this same year he also crushed the

Protestant Princes at the battle of Muhlberg.

In the reign of Francois I. the Court looked not unkindly on the

Reformers, more particularly in the earlier years.

Henri II., who succeeded in 1547, “had all the faults of his father, with

a weaker mind;” and as strength of mind was not one of the

characteristics of Francois I., we may imagine how little firmness there

was in the gloomy King who now reigned. Party spirit ruled at Court.

Henri II., with his ancient mistress, Diane de Poitiers, were at the head

of one party, that of the strict Catholics, and were supported by old

Anne de Montmorency, most unlucky of soldiers, most fanatical of

Catholics, and by the Guises, who chafed a good deal under the stern rule

of the Constable. This party had almost extinguished its antagonists; in

the struggle of the mistresses, the pious and learned Anne d’Etampes had

to give place to imperious Diane, Catherine, the Queen, was content to

bide her time, watching with Italian coolness the game as it went on; of

no account beside her rival, and yet quite sure to have her day, and

ready to play parties against one another. Meanwhile, she brought to her

royal husband ten sickly children, most of whom died young, and three

wore the crown. Of the many bad things she did for France, that was

perhaps among the worst.

On the accession of Henri II. the duchy of Brittany finally lost even

nominal independence; he next got the hand of Mary, Queen of Scots, then

but five years old, for the Dauphin Francois; she was carried over to

France; and being by birth half a Guise, by education and interests of

her married life she became entirely French. It was a great triumph for

Henri, for the Protector Somerset had laid his plans to secure her for

young Edward VI.; it was even more a triumph for the Guises, who saw

opened out a broad and clear field for their ambition.

At first Henri II. showed no desire for war, and seemed to shrink from

rivalry or collision with Charles V. He would not listen to Paul III.,

who, in his anxiety after the fall of the Protestant power in Germany in

1547, urged him to resist the Emperor’s triumphant advance; he seemed to

show a dread of war, even among his neighbours. After he had won his

advantage over Edward VI., he escaped the war which seemed almost

inevitable, recovered Boulogne from the English by a money payment, and

smoothed the way for peace between England and Scotland. He took much

interest in the religious question, and treated the Calvinists with great

severity; he was also occupied by troubles in the south and west of

France. Meanwhile, a new Pope, Julius III., was the weak dependent of

the Emperor, and there seemed to be no head left for any movement against

the universal domination of Charles V. His career from 1547 to 1552 was,

to all appearance, a triumphal march of unbroken success. Yet Germany

was far from acquiescence; the Princes were still discontented and

watchful; even Ferdinand of Austria, his brother, was offended by the

Emperor’s anxiety to secure everything, even the imperial crown for his

son Philip; Maurice of Saxony, that great problem of the age, was

preparing for a second treachery, or, it may be, for a patriotic effort.

These German malcontents now appealed to Henri for aid; and at last Henri

seemed inclined to come. He had lately made alliance with England, and

in 1552 formed a league at Chambord with the German Princes; the old

connection with the Turk was also talked of. The Germans agreed to

allow’ him to hold (as imperial vicar, not as King of France) the “three

bishoprics,” Metz, Verdun, and Toul; he also assumed a protectorate over

the spiritual princes, those great bishops and electors of the Rhine,

whose stake in the Empire was so important. The general lines of French

foreign politics are all here clearly marked; in this Henri II. is the

forerunner of Henri IV. and of Louis XIV.; the imperial politics of

Napoleon start from much the same lines; the proclamations of Napoleon

III. before the Franco-German war seemed like thin echoes of the same.

Early in 1552 Maurice of Saxony struck his great blow at his master in

the Tyrol, destroying in an instant all the Emperor’s plans for the

suppression of Lutheran opinions, and the reunion of Germany in a

Catholic empire; and while Charles V. fled for his life, Henri II. with

a splendid army crossed the frontiers of Lorraine. Anne de Montmorency,

whose opposition to the war had been overborne by the Guises, who warmly

desired to see a French predominance in Lorraine, was sent forward to

reduce Metz, and quickly got that important city into his hands; Toul and

Verdun soon opened their gates, and were secured in reality, if not in

name, to France. Eager to undertake a protectorate of the Rhine, Henri

II. tried also to lay hands on Strasburg; the citizens, however,

resisted, and he had to withdraw; the same fate befell his troops in an

attempt on Spires. Still, Metz and the line of the Vosges mountains

formed a splendid acquisition for France. The French army, leaving

strong garrisons in Lorraine, withdrew through Luxemburg and the northern

frontier; its remaining exploits were few and mean, for the one gleam of

good fortune enjoyed by Anne de Montmorency, who was unwise and arrogant,

and a most inefficient commander, soon deserted him. Charles V., as soon

as he could gather forces, laid siege to Metz, but, after nearly three

months of late autumnal operations, was fain to break up and withdraw,

baffled and with loss of half his army, across the Rhine. Though some

success attended his arms on the northern frontier, it was of no

permanent value; the loss of Metz, and the failure in the attempt to take

it, proved to the worn-out Emperor that the day of his power and

opportunity was past. The conclusions of the Diet of Augsburg in 1555

settled for half a century the struggle between Lutheran and Catholic,

but settled it in a way not at all to his mind; for it was the safeguard

of princely interests against his plans for an imperial unity. Weary of

the losing strife, yearning for ease, ordered by his physicians to

withdraw from active life, Charles in the course of 1555 and 1556

resigned all his great lordships and titles, leaving Philip his son to

succeed him in Italy, the Netherlands, and Spain, and his brother

Ferdinand of Austria to wear in his stead the imperial diadem. These

great changes sundered awhile the interests of Austria from those of

Spain.

Henri endeavoured to take advantage of the check in the fortunes of his

antagonists; he sent Anne de Montmorency to support Gaspard de Coligny,

the Admiral of France, in Picardy, and in harmony with Paul IV.,

instructed Francois, Duc de Guise, to enter Italy to oppose the Duke of

Alva. As of old, the French arms at first carried all before them, and

Guise, deeming himself heir to the crown of Naples (for he was the eldest

great-grandson of Rene II., titular King of Naples), pushed eagerly

forward as far as the Abruzzi. There he was met and outgeneraled by

Alva, who drove him back to Rome, whence he was now recalled by urgent

summons to France; for the great disaster of St. Quentin had laid Paris

itself open to the assault of an enterprising enemy. With the departure

of Guise from Italy the age of the Italian expeditions comes to an end.

On the northern side of the realm things had gone just as badly.

Philibert of Savoy, commanding for Philip with Spanish and English

troops, marched into France as far as to the Somme, and laid siege to St.

Quentin, which was bravely defended by Amiral de Coligny. Anne de

Montmorency, coming up to relieve the place, managed his movements so

clumsily that he was caught by Count Egmont and the Flemish horse, and,

with incredibly small loss to the conquerors, was utterly routed (1557).

Montmorency himself and a crowd of nobles and soldiers were taken; the

slaughter was great. Coligny made a gallant and tenacious stand in the

town itself, but at last was overwhelmed, and the place fell. Terrible

as these mishaps were to France, Philip II. was not of a temper to push

an advantage vigorously; and while his army lingered, Francois de Guise

came swiftly back from Italy; and instead of wasting strength in a

doubtful attack on the allies in Picardy, by a sudden stroke of genius he

assaulted and took Calais (January, 1558), and swept the English finally

off the soil of France. This unexpected and brilliant blow cheered and

solaced the afflicted country, while it finally secured the ascendency of

the House of Guise. The Duke’s brother, the Cardinal de Lorraine,

carried all before him in the King’s councils; the Dauphin, betrothed

long before, was now married to Mary of Scots; a secret treaty bound the

young Queen to bring her kingdom over with her; it was thought that

France with Scotland would be at least a match for England joined with

Spain. In the same year, 1558, the French advance along the coast, after

they had taken Dunkirk and Nieuport, was finally checked by the brilliant

genius of Count Egmont, who defeated them at Gravelinea. All now began

to wish for peace, especially Montmorency, weary of being a prisoner, and

anxious to get back to Court, that he might check the fortunes of the

Guises; Philip desired it that he might have free hand against heresy.

And so, at Cateau-Cambresis, a peace was made in April, 1559, by which

France retained the three bishoprics and Calais, surrendering Thionville,

Montmedy, and one or two other frontier towns, while she recovered Ham

and St. Quentin; the House of Savoy was reinstated by Philip, as a reward

to Philibert for his services, and formed a solid barrier for a time

between France and Italy; cross-marriages between Spain, France, and

Savoy were arranged;--and finally, the treaty contained secret articles

by which the Guises for France and Granvella for the Netherlands agreed

to crush heresy with a strong hand. As a sequel to this peace, Henri II.

held a great tournament at Paris, at which he was accidentally slain by a

Scottish knight in the lists.

The Guises now shot up into abounded power. On the Guise side the

Cardinal de Lorraine was the cleverest man, the true head, while

Francois, the Duke, was the arm; he showed leanings towards the

Lutherans. On the other side, the head was the dull and obstinate Anne

de Montmorency, the Constable, an unwavering Catholic, supported by the

three Coligny brothers, who all were or became Huguenots. The

Queen-mother Catherine fluctuated uneasily between the parties, and

though Catholic herself, or rather not a Protestant, did not hesitate to

befriend the Huguenots, if the political arena seemed to need their

gallant swords. Their noblest leader was Coligny, the admiral; their

recognised head was Antoine, King of Navarre, a man as foolish as

fearless. He was heir presumptive to the throne after the Valois boys,

and claimed to have charge of the young King. Though the Guises had the

lead at first, the Huguenots seemed, from their strong aristocratic

connections, to have the fairer prospects before them.

Thirty years of desolate civil strife are before us, and we must set it

all down briefly and drily. The prelude to the troubles was played by

the Huguenots, who in 1560, guided by La Renaudie, a Perigord gentleman,

formed a plot to carry off the young King; for Francois II. had already

treated them with considerable severity, and had dismissed from his

councils both the princes of the blood royal and the Constable de

Montmorency. The plot failed miserably and La Renaudie lost his life; it

only secured more firmly the authority of the Guises. As a counterpoise

to their influence, the Queen-mother now conferred the vacant

chancellorship on one of the wisest men France has ever seen, her Lord

Bacon, Michel de L’Hopital, a man of the utmost prudence and moderation,

who, had the times been better, might have won constitutional liberties

for his country, and appeased her civil strife. As it was, he saved her

from the Inquisition; his hand drew the edicts which aimed at enforcing

toleration on France; he guided the assembly of notables which gathered

at Fontainebleau, and induced them to attempt a compromise which moderate

Catholics and Calvinists might accept, and which might lessen the power

of the Guises. This assembly was followed by a meeting of the States

General at Orleans, at which the Prince de Conde and the King of Navarre

were seized by the Guises on a charge of having had to do with La

Renaudie’s plot. It would have gone hard with them had not the sickly

King at this very time fallen ill and died (1560).

This was a grievous blow to the Guises. Now, as in a moment, all was

shattered; Catherine de Medici rose at once to the command of affairs;

the new King, Charles IX., was only, ten years old, and her position as

Regent was assured. The Guises would gladly have ruled with her, but she

had no fancy for that; she and Chancellor de L’Hopital were not likely to

ally themselves with all that was severe and repressive. It must not be

forgotten that the best part of her policy was inspired by the Chancellor

de L’Hopital.

Now it was that Mary Stuart, the Queen-dowager, was compelled to leave

France for Scotland; her departure clearly marks the fall of the Guises;

and it also showed Philip of Spain that it was no longer necessary for

him to refuse aid and counsel to the Guises; their claims were no longer

formidable to him on the larger sphere of European politics; no longer

could Mary Stuart dream of wearing the triple crown of Scotland, France,

and England.

The tolerant language of L’Hopital at the States General of Orleans in

1561 satisfied neither side. The Huguenots were restless; the Bourbon

Princes tried to crush the Guises, in return for their own imprisonment

the year before; the Constable was offended by the encouragement shown to

the Huguenots; it was plain that new changes impended. Montmorency began

them by going over to the Guises; and the fatal triumvirate of Francois,

Duc de Guise, Montmorency, and St. Andre the marshal, was formed. We

find the King of Spain forthwith entering the field of French intrigues

and politics, as the support and stay of this triumvirate. Parties take

a simpler format once, one party of Catholics and another of Huguenots,

with the Queen-mother and the moderates left powerless between them.

These last, guided still by L’Hopital, once more convoked the States

General at Pontoise: the nobles and the Third Estate seemed to side

completely with the Queen and the moderates; a controversy between

Huguenots and Jesuits at Poissy only added to the discontent of the

Catholics, who were now joined by foolish Antoine, King of Navarre. The

edict of January, 1562, is the most remarkable of the attempts made by

the Queen-mother to satisfy the Huguenots; but party-passion was already

too strong for it to succeed; civil war had become inevitable.

The period may be divided into four parts: (1) the wars before the

establishment of the League (1562-1570); (2) the period of the St.

Bartholomew (1570-1573); (3) the struggle of the new Politique party

against the Leaguers (1573-1559); (4) the efforts of Henri IV. to crush

the League and reduce the country to peace (1589-1595). The period can

also be divided by that series of agreements, or peaces, which break it

up into eight wars:

1. The war of 1562, on the skirts of which Philip of Spain interfered on

one side, and Queen Elizabeth with the Calvinistic German Princes on the

other, showed at once that the Huguenots were by far the weaker party.

The English troops at Havre enabled them at first to command the lower

Seine up to Rouen; but the other party, after a long siege which cost

poor Antoine of Navarre his life, took that place, and relieved Paris of

anxiety. The Huguenots had also spread far and wide over the south and

west, occupying Orleans; the bridge of Orleans was their point of

junction between Poitou and Germany. While the strength of the Catholics

lay to the east, in Picardy, and at Paris, the Huguenot power was mostly

concentrated in the south and west of France. Conde, who commanded at

Orleans, supported by German allies, made an attempt on Paris, but

finding the capital too strong for him, turned to the west, intending to

join the English troops from Havre. Montmorency, however, caught him at

Dreux; and in the battle that ensued, the Marshal of France, Saint-Andre,

perished; Conde was captured by the Catholics, Montmorency by the

Huguenots. Coligny, the admiral, drew off his defeated troops with great

skill, and fell back to beyond the Loire; the Duc de Guise remained as

sole head of the Catholics. Pushing on his advantage, the Duke

immediately laid siege to Orleans, and there he fell by the hand of a

Huguenot assassin. Both parties had suffered so much that the

Queen-mother thought she might interpose with terms of peace; the Edict

of Amboise (March, 1563) closed the war, allowing the Calvinists freedom

of worship in the towns they held, and some other scanty privileges. A

three years’ quiet followed, though all men suspected their neighbours,

and the high Catholic party tried hard to make Catherine sacrifice

L’Hopital and take sharp measures with the Huguenots. They on their side

were restless and suspicious, and it was felt that another war could not

be far off. Intrigues were incessant, all men thinking to make their

profit out of the weakness of France. The struggle between Calvinists

and Catholics in the Netherlands roused much feeling, though Catherine

refused to favour either party. She collected an army of her own; it was

rumoured that she intended to take the Huguenots by surprise and

annihilate them. In autumn, 1567, their patience gave way, and they

raised the standard of revolt, in harmony with the heroic Netherlanders.

Conde and the Chatillons beleaguered Paris from the north, and fought the

battle of St. Denis, in which the old Constable, Anne de Montmorency, was

killed. The Huguenots, however, were defeated and forced to withdraw,

Conde marching eastward to join the German troops now coming up to his

aid. No more serious fighting followed; the Peace of Longjumeau (March,

1568), closed the second war, leaving matters much as they were. The

aristocratic resistance against the Catholic sovereigns, against what is

often called the “Catholic Reaction,” had proved itself hollow; in

Germany and the Netherlands, as well as in France, the Protestant cause

seemed to fail; it was not until the religious question became mixed up

with questions as to political rights and freedom, as in the Low

Countries, that a new spirit of hope began to spring up.

The Peace of Longjumeau gave no security to the Huguenot nobles; they

felt that the assassin might catch them any day. An attempt to seize

Condo and Coligny failed, and served only to irritate their party;

Cardinal Chatillon escaped to England; Jeanne of Navarre and her young

son Henri took refuge at La Rochelle; L’Hopital was dismissed the Court.

The Queen-mother seemed to have thrown off her cloak of moderation, and

to be ready to relieve herself of the Huguenots by any means, fair or

foul. War accordingly could not fail to break out again before the end

of the year. Conde had never been so strong; with his friends in England

and the Low Countries, and the enthusiastic support of a great party of

nobles and religious adherents at home, his hopes rose; he even talked of

deposing the Valois and reigning in their stead. He lost his life,

however, early in 1569, at the battle of Jarnac. Coligny once more with

difficulty, as at Dreux, saved the broken remnants of the defeated

Huguenots. Conde’s death, regarded at the time by the Huguenots as an

irreparable calamity, proved in the end to be no serious loss; for it

made room for the true head of the party, Henri of Navarre. No sooner

had Jeanne of Navarre heard of the mishap of Jarnac than she came into

the Huguenot camp and presented to the soldiers her young son Henri and

the young Prince de Conde, a mere child. Her gallant bearing and the

true soldier-spirit of Coligny, who shone most brightly in adversity,

restored their temper; they even won some small advantages. Before long,

however, the Duc d’Anjou, the King’s youngest brother, caught and

punished them severely at Moncontour. Both parties thenceforward wore

themselves out with desultory warfare. In August, 1570, the Peace of St.

Germain-en-Laye closed the third war and ended the first period.

Memoirs of Marguerite de Valois, Queen of Navarre — Complete · 第 15 / 16 段