Salviati was related to Catherine, and had gained her good opinion as

Nuncio in the year 1570. The Pope had sent him back because nobody

seemed more capable of diverting her and her son from the policy which

caused so much uneasiness at Rome.[34] He died many years later, with

the reputation of having been one of the most eminent Cardinals at a

time when the Sacred College was unusually rich in talent. Personally,

he had always favoured stern measures of repression. When the Countess

of Entremont was married to Coligny, Salviati declared that she had made

herself liable to severe penalties by entertaining proposals of marriage

with so notorious a heretic, and demanded that the Duke of Savoy should,

by all the means in his power, cause that wicked bride to be put out of

the way.[35] When the peace of St. Germains was concluded, he assured

Charles and Catherine that their lives were in danger, as the Huguenots

were seeking to pull down the throne as well as the altar. He believed

that all intercourse with them was sinful, and that the sole remedy was

utter extermination by the sword. "I am convinced," he wrote, "that it

will come to this." "If they do the tenth part of what I have advised,

it will be well for them."[36] After an audience of two hours, at which

he had presented a letter from Pius V., prophesying the wrath of Heaven,

Salviati perceived that his exhortations made some impression. The King

and Queen whispered to him that they hoped to make the peace yield such

fruit that the end would more than countervail the badness of the

beginning; and the King added, in strict confidence, that his plan was

one which, once told, could never be executed.[37] This might have been

said to delude the Nuncio; but he was inclined on the whole to believe

that it was sincerely meant. The impression was confirmed by the

Archbishop of Sens, Cardinal Pelleve, who informed him that the Huguenot

leaders were caressed at Court in order to detach them from their party,

and that after the loss of their leaders it would not take more than

three days to deal with the rest.[38] Salviati on his return to France

was made aware that his long-deferred hopes were about to be fulfilled.

He shadowed it forth obscurely in his despatches. He reported that the

Queen allowed the Huguenots to pass into Flanders, believing that the

admiral would become more and more presumptuous until he gave her an

opportunity of retribution; for she excelled in that kind of intrigue.

Some days later he knew more, and wrote that he hoped soon to have good

news for his Holiness.[39] At the last moment his heart misgave him. On

the morning of the 21st of August the Duke of Montpensier and the

Cardinal of Bourbon spoke with so much unconcern, in his presence, of

what was then so near, that he thought it hardly possible the secret

could be kept.[40]

The foremost of the French prelates was the Cardinal of Lorraine. He had

held a prominent position at the council of Trent; and for many years he

had wielded the influence of the House of Guise over the Catholics of

France. In May 1572 he went to Rome; and he was still there when the

news came from Paris in September. He at once made it known that the

resolution had been taken before he left France, and that it was due to

himself and his nephew, the Duke of Guise.[41] As the spokesman of the

Gallican Church in the following year he delivered a harangue to Charles

IX., in which he declared that Charles had eclipsed the glory of

preceding kings by slaying the false prophets, and especially by the

holy deceit and pious dissimulation with which he had laid his

plans.[42]

There was one man who did not get his knowledge from rumour, and who

could not be deceived by lies. The King's confessor, Sorbin, afterwards

Bishop of Nevers, published in 1574 a narrative of the life and death of

Charles IX. He bears unequivocal testimony that that clement and

magnanimous act, for so he terms it, was resolved upon beforehand, and

he praises the secrecy as well as the justice of his hero.[43]

Early in the year a mission of extraordinary solemnity had appeared in

France. Pius V., who was seriously alarmed at the conduct of Charles,

had sent the Cardinal of Alessandria as Legate to the Kings of Spain and

Portugal, and directed him, in returning, to visit the Court at Blois.

The Legate was nephew to the Pope, and the man whom he most entirely

trusted.[44] His character stood so high that the reproach of nepotism

was never raised by his promotion. Several prelates destined to future

eminence attended him. His chief adviser was Hippolyto Aldobrandini,

who, twenty years later, ascended the papal chair as Clement VIII. The

companion whose presence conferred the greatest lustre on the mission

was the general of the Jesuits, Francis Borgia, the holiest of the

successors of Ignatius, and the most venerated of men then living.

Austerities had brought him to the last stage of weakness; and he was

sinking under the malady of which he was soon to die. But it was

believed that the words of such a man, pleading for the Church, would

sway the mind of the King. The ostensible purpose of the Legate's

journey was to break off the match with Navarre, and to bring France

into the Holy League. He gained neither object. When he was summoned

back to Rome it was understood in France that he had reaped nothing but

refusals, and that he went away disappointed.[45] The jeers of the

Protestants pursued him.[46] But it was sufficiently certain beforehand

that France could not plunge into a Turkish war.[47] The real business

of the Legate, besides proposing a Catholic husband for the Princess,

was to ascertain the object of the expedition which was fitting out in

the Western ports. On both points he had something favourable to report.

In his last despatch, dated Lyons, the 6th of March, he wrote that he

had failed to prevent the engagement with Navarre, but that he had

something for the Pope's private ear, which made his journey not

altogether unprofitable.[48] The secret was soon divulged in Italy. The

King had met the earnest remonstrances of the Legate by assuring him

that the marriage afforded the only prospect of wreaking vengeance on

the Huguenots: the event would show; he could say no more, but desired

his promise to be carried to the Pope. It was added that he had

presented a ring to the Legate, as a pledge of sincerity, which the

Legate refused. The first to publish this story was Capilupi, writing

only seven months later. It was repeated by Folieta,[49] and is given

with all details by the historians of Pius V.--Catena and Gabuzzi.

Catena was secretary to the Cardinal of Alessandria as early as July

1572, and submitted his work to him before publication.[50] Gabuzzi

wrote at the instance of the same Cardinal, who supplied him with

materials; and his book was examined and approved by Borghese,

afterwards Paul V. Both the Cardinal of Alessandria and Paul V.,

therefore, were instrumental in causing it to be proclaimed that the

Legate was acquainted in February 1572 with the intention which the King

carried out in August.

The testimony of Aldobrandini was given still more distinctly, and with

greater definiteness and authority. When he was required, as Pope, to

pronounce upon the dissolution of the ill-omened marriage, he related to

Borghese and other Cardinals what had passed in that interview between

the Legate and the King, adding that, when the report of the massacre

reached Rome, the Cardinal exclaimed: "God be praised! the King of

France has kept his word." Clement referred D'Ossat to a narrative of

the journey which he had written himself, and in which those things

would be found.[51] The clue thus given has been unaccountably

neglected, although the Report was known to exist. One copy is mentioned

by Giorgi; and Mazzuchelli knew of another. Neither of them had read it;

for they both ascribe it to Michele Bonelli, the Cardinal of

Alessandria. The first page would have satisfied them that it was not

his work. Clement VIII. describes the result of the mission to Blois in

these words: "Quae rationes eo impulerunt regem ut semel apprehensa manu

Cardinalis in hanc vocem proruperit: Significate Pontifici illumque

certum reddite me totum hoc quod circa id matrimonium feci et facturus

sum, nulla alia de causa facere, quam ulciscendi inimicos Dei et hujus

regni, et puniendi tam infidos rebelles, ut eventus ipse docebit, nec

aliud vobis amplius significare possum. Quo non obstante semper

Cardinalis eas subtexuit difficultates quas potuit, objiciens regi

possetne contrahi matrimonium a fidele cum infidele, sitve dispensatio

necessaria; quod si est nunquam Pontificem inductum iri ut illam

concedat. Re ipsa ita in suspenso relicta discedendum esse putavit, cum

jam rescivisset qua de causa naves parabantur, qui apparatus contra

Rocellam tendebant."

The opinion that the massacre of St. Bartholomew was a sudden and

unpremeditated act cannot be maintained; but it does not follow that the

only alternative is to believe that it was the aim of every measure of

the Government for two years before. Catherine had long contemplated it

as her last expedient in extremity; but she had decided that she could

not resort to it while her son was virtually a minor.[52] She suggested

the idea to him in 1570. In that year he gave orders that the Huguenots

should be slaughtered at Bourges. The letter is preserved in which La

Chastre spurned the command: "If the people of Bourges learn that your

Majesty takes pleasure in such tragedies, they will repeat them often.

If these men must die, let them first be tried; but do not reward my

services and sully my reputation by such a stain."[53]

In the autumn of 1571 Coligny came to Blois. Walsingham suspected, and

was afterwards convinced that the intention to kill him already existed.

The Pope was much displeased by his presence at Court; but he received

assurances from the ambassador which satisfied him. It was said at the

time that he at first believed that Coligny was to be murdered, but that

he soon found that there was no such praiseworthy design.[54]

In December the King knew that, when the moment came, the burghers of

Paris would not fail him. Marcel, the Prevot des Marchands, told him

that the wealth was driven out of the country by the Huguenots: "The

Catholics will bear it no longer.... Let your Majesty look to it. Your

crown is at stake, Paris alone can save it."[55] By the month of

February 1572 the plan had assumed a practical shape. The political idea

before the mind of Charles was the same by which Richelieu afterwards

made France the first Power in the world; to repress the Protestants at

home, and to encourage them abroad. No means of effectual repression was

left but murder. But the idea of raising up enemies to Spain by means of

Protestantism was thoroughly understood. The Huguenots were allowed to

make an expedition to aid William of Orange. Had they gained some

substantial success, the Government would have followed it up, and the

scheme of Coligny would have become for the moment the policy of France.

But the Huguenot commander Genlis was defeated and taken. Coligny had

had his chance. He had played and lost. It was useless now to propose

his great venture against the King of Spain.[56]

Philip II. perfectly understood that this event was decisive. When the

news came from Hainaut, he sent to the Nuncio Castagna to say that the

King of France would gain more than himself by the loss of so many brave

Protestants, and that the time was come for him, with the aid of the

people of Paris, to get rid of Coligny and the rest of his enemies.[57]

It appears from the letters of Salviati that he also regarded the

resolution as having been finally taken after the defeat of Genlis.

The Court had determined to enforce unity of faith in France. An edict

of toleration was issued for the purpose of lulling the Huguenots; but

it was well known that it was only a pretence.[58] Strict injunctions

were sent into the provinces that it should not be obeyed;[59] and

Catherine said openly to the English envoy, "My son will have exercise

but of one Religion in his Realm." On the 26th the King explained his

plan to Mondoucet, his agent at Brussels: "Since it has pleased God to

bring matters to the point they have now reached, I mean to use the

opportunity to secure a perpetual repose in my kingdom, and to do

something for the good of all Christendom. It is probable that the

conflagration will spread to every town in France, and that they will

follow the example of Paris, and lay hands on all the Protestants.... I

have written to the governors to assemble forces in order to cut to

pieces those who may resist."[60] The great object was to accomplish the

extirpation of Protestantism in such a way as might leave intact the

friendship with Protestant States. Every step was governed by this

consideration; and the difficulty of the task caused the inconsistencies

and the vacillation that ensued. By assassinating Coligny alone it was

expected that such an agitation would be provoked among his partisans

as would make it appear that they were killed by the Catholics in

self-defence. Reports were circulated at once with that object. A letter

written on the 23rd states that, after the Admiral was wounded on the

day before, the Huguenots assembled at the gate of the Louvre, to avenge

him on the Guises as they came out.[61] And the first explanation sent

forth by the Government on the 24th was to the effect that the old feud

between the Houses of Guise and of Chatillon had broken out with a fury

which it was impossible to quell. This fable lasted only for a single

day. On the 25th Charles writes that he has begun to discover traces of

a Huguenot conspiracy;[62] and on the following day this was publicly

substituted for the original story. Neither the vendetta of the Guises

nor the conspiracy at Paris could be made to explain the massacre in the

provinces. It required to be so managed that the King could disown it;

Salviati describes the plan of operations. It was intended that the

Huguenots should be slaughtered successively by a series of spontaneous

outbreaks in different parts of the country. While Rochelle held out, it

was dangerous to proceed with a more sweeping method.[63] Accordingly,

no written instructions from the King are in existence; and the

governors were expressly informed that they were to expect none.[64]

Messengers went into the provinces with letters requiring that the

verbal orders which they brought should be obeyed.[65] Many governors

refused to act upon directions so vague and so hard to verify. Burgundy

was preserved in this way. Two gentlemen arrived with letters of

recommendation from the King, and declared his commands. They were

asked to put them on paper; but they refused to give in writing what

they had received by word of mouth. Mandelot, the Governor of Lyons, the

most ignoble of the instruments in this foul deed, complained that the

intimation of the royal wishes sent to him was obscure and

insufficient.[66] He did not do his work thoroughly, and incurred the

displeasure of the King. The orders were complicated as well as obscure.

The public authorities were required to collect the Huguenots in some

prison or other safe place, where they could be got at by hired bands of

volunteer assassins. To screen the King it was desirable that his

officers should not superintend the work themselves. Mandelot, having

locked the gates of Lyons, and shut up the Huguenots together, took

himself out of the way while they were being butchered. Carouge, at

Rouen, received a commission to visit the other towns in his province.

The magistrates implored him to remain, as nobody, in his absence, could

restrain the people. When the King had twice repeated his commands,

Carouge obeyed; and five hundred Huguenots perished.[67]

It was thought unsafe even for the King's brother to give distinct

orders under his own hand. He wrote to his lieutenant in Anjou that he

had commissioned Puygaillard to communicate with him on a matter which

concerned the King's service and his own, and desired that his orders

should be received as if they came directly from himself. They were,

that every Huguenot in Angers, Saumur, and the adjoining country should

be put to death without delay and without exception.[68] The Duke of

Montpensier himself sent the same order to Brittany; but it was

indignantly rejected by the municipality of Nantes.

When reports came in of the manner in which the event had been received

in foreign countries, the Government began to waver, and the sanguinary

orders were recalled. Schomberg wrote from Germany that the Protestant

allies were lost unless they could be satisfied that the King had not

decreed the extermination of their brethren.[69] He was instructed to

explain the tumult in the provinces by the animosity bequeathed by the

wars of religion.[70] The Bishop of Valence was intriguing in Poland on

behalf of Anjou. He wrote that his success had been made very doubtful,

and that, if further cruelties were perpetrated, ten millions of gold

pieces would not bribe the venal Poles. He advised that a counterfeit

edict, at least, should be published.[71] Charles perceived that he

would be compelled to abandon his enterprise, and set about appeasing

the resentment of the Protestant Powers. He promised that an inquiry

should be instituted, and the proofs of the conspiracy communicated to

foreign Governments. To give a judicial aspect to the proceedings, two

prominent Huguenots were ceremoniously hanged. When the new ambassador

from Spain praised the long concealment of the plan, Charles became

indignant.[72] It was repeated everywhere that the thing had been

arranged with Rome and Spain; and he was especially studious that there

should be no symptoms of a private understanding with either power.[73]

He was able to flatter himself that he had at least partially succeeded.

If he had not exterminated his Protestant subjects, he had preserved his

Protestant allies. William the Silent continued to solicit his aid;

Elizabeth consented to stand godmother to the daughter who was born to

him in October; he was allowed to raise mercenaries in Switzerland; and

the Polish Protestants agreed to the election of his brother. The

promised evidence of the Huguenot conspiracy was forgotten; and the King

suppressed the materials which were to have served for an official

history of the event.[74]

Zeal for religion was not the motive which inspired the chief authors of

this extraordinary crime. They were trained to look on the safety of the

monarchy as the sovereign law, and on the throne as an idol that

justified sins committed in its worship. At all times there have been

men, resolute and relentless in the pursuit of their aims, whose ardour

was too strong to be restricted by moral barriers or the instinct of

humanity. In the sixteenth century, beside the fanaticism of freedom,

there was an abject idolatry of power; and laws both human and divine

were made to yield to the intoxication of authority and the reign of

will. It was laid down that kings have the right of disposing of the

lives of their subjects, and may dispense with the forms of justice. The

Church herself, whose supreme pontiff was now an absolute monarch, was

infected with this superstition. Catholic writers found an opportune

argument for their religion in the assertion that it makes the prince

master of the consciences as well as the bodies of the people, and

enjoins submission even to the vilest tyranny.[75] Men whose lives were

precious to the Catholic cause could be murdered by royal command,

without protest from Rome. When the Duke of Guise, with the Cardinal his

brother, was slain by Henry III., he was the most powerful and devoted

upholder of Catholicism in France. Sixtus V. thundered against the

sacrilegious tyrant who was stained with the blood of a prince of the

Church; but he let it be known very distinctly that the death of the

Duke caused him little concern.[76]

Catherine was the daughter of that Medici to whom Machiavelli had

dedicated his _Prince_. So little did religion actuate her conduct that

she challenged Elizabeth to do to the Catholics of England what she

herself had done to the Protestants of France, promising that if they

were destroyed there would be no loss of her good will.[77] The levity

of her religious feelings appears from her reply when asked by Gomicourt

what message he should take to the Duke of Alva: "I must give you the

answer of Christ to the disciples of St. John, 'Ite et nuntiate quae

vidistis et audivistis; caeci vident, claudi ambulant, leprosi

mundantur.'" And she added, "Beatus qui non fuerit in me

scandalizatus."[78]

If mere fanaticism had been their motive, the men who were most active

in the massacre would not have spared so many lives. While Guise was

galloping after Ferrieres and Montgomery, who had taken horse betimes,

and made for the coast, his house at Paris was crowded with families

belonging to the proscribed faith, and strangers to him. A young girl

who was amongst them has described his return, when he sent for the

children, spoke to them kindly, and gave orders that they should be well

treated as long as his roof sheltered them.[79] Protestants even spoke

of him as a humane and chivalrous enemy.[80] Nevers was considered to

have disgraced himself by the number of those whom he enabled to

escape.[81] The Nuncio was shocked at their ill-timed generosity. He

reported to Rome that the only one who had acted in the spirit of a

Christian, and had refrained from mercy, was the King; while the other

princes, who pretended to be good Catholics, and to deserve the favour

of the Pope, had striven, one and all, to save as many Huguenots as they

could.[82]

The worst criminals were not the men who did the deed. The crime of mobs

and courtiers, infuriated by the lust of vengeance and of power, is not

so strange a portent as the exultation of peaceful men, influenced by no

present injury or momentary rage, but by the permanent and incurable

perversion of moral sense wrought by a distorted piety.

Philip II., who had long suspected the court of France, was at once

relieved from the dread which had oppressed him, and betrayed an excess

of joy foreign to his phlegmatic nature.[83] He immediately sent six

thousand crowns to the murderer of Coligny.[84] He persuaded himself

that the breach between France and her allies was irreparable, that

Charles would now be driven to seek his friendship, and that the

Netherlands were out of danger.[85] He listened readily to the French

ambassador, who assured him that his court had never swerved from the

line of Catholic policy, but had intended all along to effect this great

change.[86] Ayamonte carried his congratulations to Paris, and pretended

that his master had been in the secret. It suited Philip that this

should be believed by Protestant princes, in order to estrange them

still more from France; but he wrote on the margin of Ayamonte's

instructions, that it was uncertain how long previously the purpose had

subsisted.[87] Juan and Diego de Zuniga, his ambassadors at Rome and at

Paris, were convinced that the long display of enmity to Spain was

genuine, that the death of Coligny had been decided at the last moment,

and that the rest was not the effect of design.[88] This opinion found

friends at first in Spain. The General of the Franciscans undertook to

explode it. He assured Philip that he had seen the King and the

Queen-mother two years before, and had found them already so intent on

the massacre that he wondered how anybody could have the courage to

detract from their merit by denying it.[89] This view generally

prevailed in Spain. Mendoca knows not which to admire more, the loyal

and Catholic inhabitants of Paris, or Charles, who justified his title

of the most Christian King by helping with his own hands to slaughter

his subjects.[90] Mariana witnessed the carnage, and imagined that it

must gladden every Catholic heart. Other Spaniards were gratified to

think that it had been contrived with Alva at Bayonne.

Alva himself did not judge the event by the same light as Philip. He

also had distrusted the French Government; but he had not feared it

during the ascendency of the Huguenots. Their fall appeared to him to

strengthen France. In public he rejoiced with the rest. He complimented

Charles on his valour and his religion, and claimed his own share of

merit. But he warned Philip that things had not changed favourably for

Spain, and that the King of France was now a formidable neighbour.[91]

For himself, he said, he never would have committed so base a deed.

The seven Catholic Cantons had their own reason for congratulation.

Their countrymen had been busy actors on the scene; and three soldiers

of the Swiss guard of Anjou were named as the slayers of the

Admiral.[92] On the 2nd of October they agreed to raise 6000 men for the

King's service. At the following Diet they demanded the expulsion of

the fugitive Huguenots who had taken refuge in the Protestant parts of

the Confederation. They made overtures to the Pope for a secret alliance

against their Confederates.[93]

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