Meantime the Protestant gentlemen who accompanied Navarre, and all the

others who lodged in the Louvre, had been disarmed by Nancay, captain of

the guard. In this defenceless condition ten or twelve of their number

were conducted, one by one, to the gate of the building. Here soldiers

stood in readiness, and despatched them with their halberds as they

successively made their appearance. Such was the fate of the brave

Pardaillan, of St. Martin, of Boursis, of Beauvais, former tutor of Henry

of Navarre, and of others; some of whom in a loud voice called upon

Charles, whom they saw at a window, an approving spectator of the

butchery, to remember the solemn pledges he had given them. M. de

Piles--that brave Huguenot captain, whose valor, if it did not save St.

Jean d'Angely in the third civil war, had at least detained the entire

Roman Catholic army for seven weeks before fortifications that were none

of the best, and rendered Moncontour a field barren of substantial

fruits[1002]--was the object of special hatred, and his conduct was

particularly remarked for its magnanimity. Observing among the bystanders

a Roman Catholic acquaintance in whose honor he might perhaps confide, he

stripped himself of his cloak, and would have handed it to him, with the

words: "De Piles makes you a present of this; remember hereafter the death

of him who is now so unjustly put to death!" "Mon capitaine," answered the

other, fearful of incurring the enmity of Catharine and Charles, "I am not

of the company of these persons. I thank you for your cloak; but I cannot

take it upon such conditions." The next moment M. de Piles fell, pierced

by the halberd of one of the archers of the guard. "These are the men,"

cried the murderers at their bloody work, "who resorted to violence, in

order to kill the king afterward."[1003] One of the victims marked out for

the slaughter escaped the death of his fellows. Margaret of Valois had not

been long asleep, when her slumbers were rudely disturbed by loud blows

struck upon the door, and shouts of "Navarre! Navarre!" Her attendant,

supposing it to be Henry himself, hastily opened the door; when there

rushed in instead, a Huguenot nobleman, the Viscount de Leran,[1004]

wounded in the arm by sword and halberd, and pursued by four archers. In

his terror he threw himself on Margaret's bed, and when she jumped up, in

doubt of what could be the meaning of this strange incident, he clung to

her night-dress which was drenched with his blood. Nancay angrily

reproved the indiscretion of his soldiers, and Margaret, leaving the

Huguenot in her room to have his wounds dressed, suffered herself to be

conducted to the chamber of her sister, the Duchess of Lorraine. It was

but a few steps; but, on the way, a Huguenot was killed at three paces'

distance from her, and two others--the first gentleman of the King of

Navarre, and his first valet-de-chambre--ran to her imploring her to save

their lives. She sought and obtained the favor on her knees before

Catharine and Charles.[1005] A few other Huguenots who were in the Louvre

were ready to purchase their lives at any price, even to that of abjuring

their faith. They obtained pardon on promising the king to comply with all

his commands; and this, we are told, "the more easily, as Charles very

well knew that they had little or no religion."[1006]

[Sidenote: Navarre and Conde spared.]

The King of Navarre and the Prince of Conde were spared, although there

were not wanting those who would gladly have seen the ruin of the family

of Bourbon. Navarre was brother-in-law of Charles, and Conde of the Duke

of Nevers; this may have guaranteed their safety. Both of the young

princes, however, were summoned into the king's presence, where Charles,

acknowledging the murder of Coligny, the great cause of disturbances, and

the similar acts then perpetrated throughout the city, as sanctioned by

his authority, sternly told the two youths that he intended no longer to

tolerate two religions in his dominions. He desired them, therefore, to

conform to that creed which had been professed by all his predecessors,

and which he intended to uphold. They must renounce the profane doctrines

they had embraced, and return to the Catholic and Roman religion. If they

refused, they must expect to suffer the treatment which had just been

experienced by so many others.[1007]

The replies of the two princes were singularly unlike. Henry of Navarre,

bold enough where only physical bravery was demanded, exhibited for the

first time that lamentable absence of moral courage which was to render

his life, in its highest relations, a splendid failure. His countenance

betrayed agitation and faint-heartedness.[1008] With great

"humility"--almost whining, it would appear--he begged that his own life

and the life of Conde might be spared, and reminded Charles of his

promised protection. "He would act," he said, "so as to satisfy his

Majesty; yet he besought him to remember that conscience was a great

thing, and that it was hard to renounce the religion in which one had been

brought up from infancy." On the other hand, Henry of Conde, in no way

abashed,[1009] declared "that he could not believe that his royal cousin

intended to violate a promise confirmed by so solemn an oath. As to

fealty, he had always been an obedient subject of the king, and would ever

be. Touching his religion, if the king had given him the exercise of its

worship, God had given him the knowledge of it; and to Him he must needs

give up an account. So far as his body and his possessions were concerned,

they were in the king's hands to dispose of as he might choose. Yet it was

his own determination to remain constant in his religion, which he would

always maintain to be the true religion, even should he be compelled to

lay down his life for it." So stout an answer kindled the anger of

Charles, who was in no mood to meet with opposition. He called Conde "a

rebel," "a seditious man," and "the son of a seditious father," and warned

him that he would lose his head, if, within three days, he should not

think better of the matter.[1010]

[Sidenote: The massacre becomes general.]

And now the great bell of the "Palais de Justice" pealed forth the tocsin.

About the Louvre the work of blood had begun when Catharine, impatient,

and fearful lest Charles's resolution should again waver at the last

moment, gave orders to anticipate the appointed time by ringing the bell

of the neighboring church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois. But now the loud and

unusual clangor from the tower of the parliament house carried the warning

far and wide. All Paris awoke. The conspirators everywhere recognized the

stipulated signal, and spread among the excited townsmen the wildest and

most extravagant reports. A foul plot, formed by the Huguenots, against

the king, his mother, and his brothers, had come to light. They had killed

more than fifteen of the royal guards. The king, therefore, commanded that

quarter should not be given to a single Huguenot.[1011]

Nothing more was needed to inflame the popular hatred of the Huguenots,

nor to prepare the rabble for an indiscriminate slaughter of the

Protestants.

[Sidenote: La Rochefoucauld and Teligny fall.]

Among the earliest victims of this day of carnage was Count de la

Rochefoucauld. This witty and lively young noble had been in the Louvre

until a late hour on Saturday night, diverting himself with the king, with

whom he was a great favorite. Apparently in his anxiety to save La

Rochefoucauld's life, Charles invited, and even urged him, to spend the

night in the royal "garde-robe;" but the count, suspecting no danger,

insisted on returning to his lodgings, while the king reluctantly

abandoned his boon companion to his fate, rather than betray his secret.

Early awakened from his sleep at his lodgings by loud knocking at the door

and by demands for admission in the king's name, and seeing a band of

masked men enter, he recalled Charles's threat at parting, that he would

come and administer to him a whipping. The practical joke would not have

been unlike many of the mad antics of the royal jester, and La

Rochefoucauld, addressing himself to the person whom he supposed to be his

Majesty in disguise, begged him to treat him with humanity. His deception

was not long continued; for the maskers, after rifling his trunks, drew

him from his place of concealment and murdered him. His lifeless body was

dragged through the streets of Paris.[1012]

Teligny was, perhaps, even more unfortunate than the rest, because he

awoke too late to the fact that his own blind confidance in the word of a

faithless prince had been a chief instrument of involving his

father-in-law and his friends in destruction. He was among the first to

pay the penalty of his credulity. More than one of the parties sent to

destroy him, it is said, overcome by compassion for his youth and manly

beauty, or by respect for his graceful manners and extraordinary learning,

left their commission unexecuted. To avoid further peril, he ascended to

the roof, from which he made his way to an adjoining house; but he had not

gone far before he was seen and shot with an arquebuse by one of the Duke

of Anjou's guards.[1013]

[Sidenote: Self-defense of a few nobles.]

The Huguenots, attacked in the midst of their slumbers by the courtiers

and the soldiers of the royal guard,[1014] among whom were prominent the

Swiss of Charles or his brother, or by the people of Paris, who every

moment swelled the ranks of the assassins, were too much taken by

surprise to offer even the slightest resistance. Guerchy, the same

gentleman who had offered his services to Coligny the night before, is

almost the only man reported to have fought for his life. With his sword

in his right hand, and winding his cloak around his left arm, he defended

himself for a long time, though the breastplates of his enemies were proof

against his blows. At last, he fell, overborne by numbers.[1015] The

Lieutenant de la Mareschaussee, if not more determined, was better

prepared for the combat. All day long, with a single soldier as his

comrade, he defended his house against the assailants, expecting at every

moment to be relieved from his perilous situation by the king. But, far

from meriting such confidence on the part of his subjects, Charles was

indignant at his prolonged resistance, and sent a powerful detachment of

guards, with orders to bring him the lieutenant's head. The brave

Huguenot, however, still maintained the unequal siege, and fought till his

last breath. The soldiers had only the poor satisfaction of pillaging his

house, of dragging his sick daughter naked through the streets until she

died of maltreatment, and of wounding and imprisoning his wife.[1016]

[Sidenote: Victims of personal hatred.]

Personal hatred, jealousy, cupidity, mingled with religious and political

zeal, and private ends were attained in fulfilling the king's murderous

commands. Bussy d'Amboise, meeting his Protestant cousin, the Marquis de

Renel (half-brother of the late Prince of Porcien), by a well-directed

blow with his poniard rid himself of an unpleasant suit at law which Renel

had come to Paris to prosecute.

[Sidenote: Adventure of young La Force.]

The case of Caumont de la Force was still more revolting. His daughter,

Madame de la Chataigneraie, in accordance with the shameless code of

morals in vogue at the French court, had taken for her lover Archan,

captain of the guard of Henry of Anjou; and it was to gratify her

covetousness that Archan obtained from the Duke the order to despatch La

Force and his two sons. The plan was successfully executed so far as the

father and his elder son were concerned. The second, a boy of twelve,

escaped by his remarkable presence of mind and self-control. Certain that

his youth would excite no pity in the breast of his inhuman assailants,

when his father and his brother fell at his side and he perceived himself

covered with their blood, he dropped down with the exclamation that he was

dead. So perfectly did he counterfeit death, all that long day, that,

although his body was examined by successive bands of plunderers, and

deprived not only of every valuable, but even of its clothing, he did not

by a motion betray that he was alive. Most of these persons applauded the

crime. It was well, they said, to kill the little wolves with the greater.

But, toward evening, a more humane person came, who, while engaged in

drawing off a stocking which had been left on the boy's foot, gave

expression to his abhorrence of the bloody deed. To his astonishment the

boy raised his head, and whispered, "I am not dead." The compassionate man

at once commanded him not to stir, and went home; but as soon as it was

dark he returned with a cloak, which he threw about young La Force's

shoulders, and bade him follow. It was no easy matter to thread the

streets unmolested; but his guide dispelled the suspicions of those who

questioned him respecting the boy by declaring that it was his nephew whom

he had found drunk, and was going to whip soundly for it. In the end the

young nobleman reached the arsenal, where his relative, Marshal Biron, was

in command. Even there, however, the avarice of his unnatural sister

pursued him. Vexed that, on account of his preservation, she must fail to

secure the entire inheritance of the family, Madame de la Chataigneraie

tried to effect herself what she had not been able to do by means of

another; she visited the marshal in the arsenal, and, after expressing

great joy that her brother had been saved, begged to be permitted to see

and care for him. Biron thought it necessary, in order to preserve the

boy's life, to deny her request.[1017]

[Sidenote: Pitiless butchery.]

The frenzy that had fallen upon Paris affected all classes alike. Every

feeling of pity seemed to have been blotted out. Natural affection

disappeared. A man's foes were those of his own household. On the plea of

religious zeal the most barbarous acts were committed. Spire Niquet, a

poor bookbinder, whose scanty earnings barely sufficed to support the

wants of his seven children, was half-roasted in a bonfire made of his own

books, and then dragged to the river and drowned.[1018] The weaker sex was

not spared in the universal carnage, and, as in a town taken by assault,

suffered outrages that were worse than death. Matron and maiden alike

welcomed as merciful the blow that liberated them from an existence now

rendered insupportable. Women approaching maternity were selected for more

excruciating torments, and savage delight was exhibited in destroying the

unborn fruit of the womb. Nor was any rank respected. Madame d'Yverny, the

niece of Cardinal Briconnet, was recognized, as she fled, by the costly

underclothing that appeared from beneath the shabby habit of a nun which

she had assumed; and, after suffering every indignity, upon her refusal to

go to mass, was thrown from a bridge into the Seine and drowned.[1019]

Occasionally the women rivalled the cruelty of the men. A poor carpenter,

of advanced age, with whom the author of the "Tocsain contre les

massacreurs" was personally acquainted, had been taken by night and cast

into the river. He swam, however, to a bridge, and succeeded in climbing

up by its timbers, and so fled naked to the house of a relative near the

"Cousture Sainte Catherine," where his wife had taken refuge. But,

instead of welcoming him, his wife drove him away, and he was soon

recaptured and killed.[1020] It is related that the daughter of one Jean

de Coulogne, a mercer of the "Palais," betrayed her own mother to death,

and subsequently married one of the murderers.[1021] The very innocence of

childhood furnished no sufficient protection--so literally did the pious

Catholics of Paris interpret the oft-repeated exhortations of their holy

father to exterminate not only the roots of heresy, but the very fibres of

the roots.[1022] Two infants, whose parents had just been murdered, were

carried in a hod and cast into the Seine. A little girl was plunged naked

in the blood of her father and mother, with horrible oaths and threats

that, if she should become a Huguenot, the like fate would befall her. And

a crowd of boys, between nine and ten years of age, was seen dragging

through the streets the body of a babe yet in its swaddling-clothes, which

they had fastened to a rope by means of a belt tied about its neck.[1023]

[Sidenote: Shamelessness of the court ladies.]

[Sidenote: Anjou encourages the assassins.]

The bodies of the more inconspicuous victims lay for hours in whatever

spot they happened to be killed; but the court required ocular

demonstration that the leaders of the Huguenots who had been most

prominent in the late wars were really dead. Accordingly the naked corpses

of Soubise, of Guerchy, of Beaudine, d'Acier's brother, and of others,

were dragged from all quarters to the square in front of the Louvre.

There, as an indignant contemporary writes, extended in a long row, they

lay exposed to the view of the varlets, of whom when alive they had been

the terror.[1024] Cruelty and lust are twin sisters: when the one is at

hand, the other is generally not far distant. The court of Catharine de'

Medici was noted for its impurity, as it was infamous for its recklessness

of human life. It was not out of keeping with its general reputation that

toward evening a bevy of ladies--among them the queen mother--tripped down

the palace stairs to feast their eyes upon the sight of the uncovered

dead.[1025] Indeed, the king, the queen mother, and their intimate friends

seemed to be in an ecstasy of joy. They indulged in boisterous

laughter[1026] as the successive reports of the municipal authorities,

from hour to hour, brought in tidings of the extent of the massacre.[1027]

"The war is now ended in reality," they were heard to say, "and we shall

henceforth live in peace."[1028] The Duke of Anjou took a more active

part. In the street and on the Pont de Notre Dame he was to be seen

encouraging the assassins.[1029] The Duke of Montpensier was surpassed by

no one in his zealous advocacy of the murderous work. "Let every man exert

himself to the utmost," he cried, as he rode through the streets, "if he

wishes to prove himself a good servant to the king."[1030] Tavannes, if we

may believe Brantome's account, endeavored to rival him, and, all day

long, as he rode about amid the carnage, amused himself by facetiously

crying to the people: "Bleed! Bleed! The doctors say that bleeding is as

good in the month of August as in May."[1031]

Of the Duke of Alencon it was noticed that, alone of Catharine's sons, he

took no part in the massacre. The Protestants even regarded him as their

friend, and the rumor was current that the pity he exhibited excited the

indignation of his mother and brothers. Indeed, Catharine, it was said,

openly told him that, if he ventured to meddle with her plans, she would

put him in a sack and throw him into the river.[1032]

[Sidenote: Wonderful escapes.]

Of the pastors of the Church of Paris, it was noticed as a remarkable

circumstance that but two--Buirette and Desgorris--were killed; for it was

certain that no lives were more eagerly sought than theirs.[1033] But

several Protestant pastors had wonderful escapes. The celebrated

D'Espine--the converted monk who took part in the Colloquy of Poissy--was

in company with Madame d'Yverny when her disguise was discovered, but he

was not recognized.[1034] In the case of Merlin, chaplain of Admiral

Coligny, the divine interposition seemed almost as distinct as in that of

the prophet Elijah. After reluctantly leaving Coligny, at his earnest

request, and clambering over the roof of a neighboring house, he fell

through an opening into a garret full of hay. Not daring to show himself,

since he knew not whether he would encounter friends or foes, he remained

for three days in this retreat, his sole food an egg which a hen daily

laid within his reach.[1035]

The future minister of Henry the Fourth, Maximilien de Bethune, Duke of

Sully, at this time a boy of twelve and a student in the college of

Burgundy in Paris, has left us in his "Economies royales" a thrilling

account of his escape. Awakened, about three o'clock in the morning, by

the uproar in the streets, his tutor and his valet-de-chambre went out to

learn the occasion of it, and never returned. They were doubtless among

the first victims. Sully's trembling host--a Protestant who consented

through fear to abjure his faith--now came in, and advised the youth to

save his life by going to mass. Sully was not prepared to take this

counsel, and, so putting on his scholar's gown, he ventured upon the

desperate step of trying to reach the college. A horrible scene presented

itself to view. Everywhere men were breaking into houses, or slaughtering

their captives in the public streets, while the cry of "Kill the

Huguenots" was heard on all sides. Sully himself owed his preservation to

two thick volumes of "Heures"--Romish books of devotion--which he had the

presence of mind to take under his arm, and which effectually disarmed the

suspicions of the three successive bands of soldiers that stopped him. At

the college, after with difficulty gaining admission, he incurred still

greater danger. Happily the principal, M. Du Faye, was a kind-hearted man.

In vain was he urged, by two priests who were his guests, to surrender the

Huguenot boy to death, saying that the order was to massacre even the very

babes at the breast. Du Faye would not consent; and after having secretly

kept Sully locked up for three days in a closet, he found means to restore

him to his friends.[1036]

[Sidenote: Death of the philosopher Ramus.]

No loss was more sensibly felt by the scientific world than that of the

learned Pierre de la Ramee, or Ramus, a philosopher second to none of his

day. The professor might possibly have escaped if his only offence had

been his Protestant views; but Ramus had had the temerity to attack

Aristotle, and to attempt to reform the faulty pronunciation of the Latin

language. For these unpardonable sins he was tracked to the cellar in

which he had hidden, by a band of robbers under the guidance of Jacques

Charpentier, a jealous rival, with whom he had had acrimonious

discussions. After being compelled to give up a considerable sum of money,

he was despatched with daggers, and thrown from an upper window into the

court of his college. Never was philosophic heterodoxy more thoroughly

punished; for if the whipping, dragging through the filthy streets, and

dismembering of a corpse by indignant students with the approval of their

teachers, could atone for such grave errors, the anger of the illustrious

Stagirite must have been fully appeased. If anything can clearly exhibit

the depth of moral degradation to which Roman Catholic France had fallen,

it is the fact that Charpentier unblushingly accepted the praise which was

liberally showered upon him for his participation in this disgraceful

affair.[1037]

[Sidenote: President Pierre de la Place.]

Scarcely less signal a misfortune to France was the murder of Pierre de la

Place, president of the Cour d'Aides, whose excellent "Commentaries on the

State of Religion and the Republic" constitute one of our best guides

through the short reign of Francis the Second and the early part of the

reign of Charles the Ninth. This eminent jurist, even more distinguished

as a writer on Christian morals than as a historian, had first embraced

the Reformation at a time when the recent martyrdom of Anne du Bourg

served as a significant reminder of the perils attending a profession of

Protestant views. President de la Place had been visited in his house

early in the morning, on the first day of the massacre, by Captain Michel,

an arquebusier of the king, who, entering boldly with his weapons and with

the white napkin bound on his left arm, informed him of the death of

Coligny, and the fate in reserve for the rest of the Huguenots. The

soldier pretended that the king wished to exempt La Place from the general

slaughter, and bade him accompany him to the Louvre. However, a gift of a

thousand crowns induced the fellow instead to lead the president's

daughter and her husband to a place of safety in the house of a Roman

Catholic friend. But La Place himself, after having applied at three

different houses belonging to persons of his acquaintance and been denied

admission, was compelled to return to his home and there await his doom. A

day passed, during which La Place and his wife were subjected to constant

alarms. At length new orders came in the king's name, enjoining upon him

without fail to repair instantly to the palace. The meaning was

unmistakable; it was the road to death. But neither the Huguenot's piety

nor his courage failed him. He gently raised his wife, who had fallen on

her knees to beg the messenger to save her husband's life, and reminded

her that she should have recourse to God alone, not to an arm of flesh.

And he sternly rebuked his eldest son, who, in a moment of weakness, had

placed a white cross on his hat, in the hope of saving his life. "The true

cross we must wear," he said, "is the trials and afflictions sent to us by

God as sure pledges of the bliss and eternal life He has prepared for His

own followers." It was with unruffled composure that he bade his weeping

friends farewell. His apprehensions were soon realized; he was despatched

by murderers who had been waiting for him, and before long his body was

floating down the Seine toward the sea.[1038]

[Sidenote: Regnier and Vezins.]

From such instances of inhumanity it is a relief to turn to one of a few

incidents wherein the finer feelings triumphed over prejudice, difference

of religious tenets, and even personal hatred. There were in Paris two

gentlemen, named Vezins and Regnier, of good families in the province of

Quercy in southern France. Both were equally distinguished for their

valor; but their dispositions were singularly unlike, for while the

Huguenot Regnier was noted for his gentle manners, the Roman Catholic

Vezins, who was lieutenant of the governor, the Viscount of Villars, had

acquired unenviable notoriety because of his ferocity. Between the two

there had for some time existed a mortal feud, which their common friends

had striven in vain to heal. While the massacre was at its height, Regnier

was visited by his enemy, Vezins. The latter, after effecting an entrance

into the house by breaking down the door, fiercely ordered the

Huguenot--who, well assured that his last hour was come, had fallen upon

his knees to implore the mercy of God--to rise and follow him. A horse

stood saddled at the door, upon which Regnier was told to mount. In his

enemy's train he rode unharmed through the streets of Paris, then through

the gates of the city. Still Vezins, without vouchsafing a word of

explanation, kept on his way toward Cahors, the capital of Quercy, whither

he had been despatched by the government.[1039] For many successive days

the journey lasted. The prisoner was well guarded, but he was also well

lodged and fed. At last the party reached the very castle of Regnier, and

here his captor broke the long silence. "As you have seen," said he, "it

would have depended only on myself to take advantage of the opportunity

which I have long been seeking; but I should be ashamed to avenge myself

in this way upon a man so brave as you. In settling our quarrel I desire

that the danger shall be equal. Be well assured that you will find me as

ready to decide our dispute in a manner becoming gentlemen, as I have been

eager to save you from inevitable destruction." It need scarcely be said

that the Huguenot could not find words sufficiently strong to express his

gratitude; but Vezins merely replied: "I leave it to you to choose whether

you wish me to be your friend or your enemy; I saved your life only to

enable you to make your election." With these words he abruptly left him

and rode away, nor would he ever consent even to take back the horse upon

which he had brought Regnier in safety so many leagues.[1040]

[Sidenote: Escape of Montgomery and Chartres.]

[Sidenote: Charles himself fires at them from the Louvre.]

A number of the Huguenot noblemen were lodged on the southern side of the

Seine, outside of the walls, in the Faubourg Saint Germain. Count

Montgomery, the Vidame of Chartres, Beauvoir la Nocle, and Frontenay, a

member of the powerful Rohan family, were among the most distinguished.

After the admiral, there were certainly no Huguenots whom Catharine was

more anxious to destroy than Montgomery and Chartres. Accordingly the

massacre, which began near the Louvre, was to have been executed

simultaneously upon them, and the work was intrusted to M. de Maugiron.

But the delay of the Roman Catholics saved them. Marcel, the former prevot

des marchands, who had been instructed to furnish one thousand men, was

not ready in time; and Dumas, who was to have acted as guide, overslept

the appointed hour. About five o'clock in the morning a Huguenot succeeded

in swimming across the river, and carried to Montgomery the first tidings

of the events of the last two hours. The count at once notified his

comrades, but, although there were among them those who had been most

urgent to leave Paris immediately after Maurevel's attack upon Coligny,

few of the nobles would harbor the thought that Charles was so lost to

honor as to have plotted the assassination of his invited guests. They

preferred to believe that the king was himself in danger through a sudden

commotion occasioned by the Guises. Acting upon this theory, the Huguenots

proceeded in a body toward the Seine, intending to cross and lend

assistance to the royal cause; but, on reaching the river's bank, they

were speedily undeceived. They saw a band of two hundred soldiers of the

royal guard coming toward them in boats, and discharging their arquebuses,

with cries of "_Tue! Tue!_"--"Kill! Kill!" Charles himself was descried at

a window of the Louvre, looking with approval upon the scene. There is

good authority also, for the story that, in his eagerness to exterminate

the Huguenots, Charles snatched an arquebuse from the hand of an

attendant, and fired at them, exclaiming, "Let us shoot, _mort Dieu_, they

are fleeing!"[1041]

Montgomery and his companions had by this time recognized their mistake,

and hesitated no longer to flee from the perfidious capital. They promptly

took to horse, and rode hard to reach Normandy and the sea. This part of

the prey was, however, too precious to be permitted to escape.

Accordingly, Guise, Aumale, the Bastard of Angouleme, and a number of

"gentilhommes tueurs," started in pursuit. But an accident prevented them

from overtaking the Huguenots. When Guise and his party reached the Porte

de Bussy[1042]--the gate leading from the city into the faubourg in which

the Protestants had been lodging--which was closed in accordance with the

king's orders, they found that they had been provided by mistake with the

wrong key, and the delay experienced in finding the right one afforded

Montgomery an advantage in the race, of which he made good use.[1043]

[Sidenote: The massacre continues.]

The carnival of blood, which had been so successfully ushered in on that

ill-starred Sunday of August, was maintained on the succeeding days with

little abatement of its frenzied excitement. Paris soon resembled a vast

charnel-house. The dead or dying lay in the open streets and squares, they

blocked the doors and carriage-ways, they were heaped in the courtyards.

When the utmost that impotent passion could do to these lifeless remains

was accomplished, the Seine became the receptacle. Besides those Huguenots

whom their murderers dragged to the bridges or wharves to despatch by

drowning, both by day and by night wagons laden with the corpses of men

and women, and even of young children, were driven down to the river and

emptied of their human freight. But the current of the crooked Seine

refused to carry away from the capital all these evidences of guilt. The

shores of its first curve, from Paris to the bridge of St. Cloud, were

covered with putrefying remains, which the municipality were compelled to

inter, through fear of their generating a pestilence. And so we read, in

the registers of the Hotel-de-Ville, of a payment of fifteen livres

tournois, on the ninth of September, for the burial of the dead bodies

found near the Convent of Chaillot, and of a second payment of twenty

livres on the twenty-third, for the burial of eleven hundred more, near

Chaillot, Auteuil, and St. Cloud.[1044]

[Sidenote: Not a popular movement.]

[Sidenote: Plunder of the rich.]

The massacre was not in its origin a popular outbreak. It sprang from the

ambition and vindictive passions of the queen mother, and others, whom the

ministers of a corrupt religion had long accustomed to the idea that the

extermination of heretics is not a sin, but the highest type of piety. The

people were called in only as assistants. Probably the first intention was

only to hold the municipal forces in readiness to overcome any resistance

which the Protestants might offer. But the massacre succeeded beyond the

most sanguine expectations of the conspirators. Very few of the victims

defended themselves or their property; scarcely one Roman Catholic was

slain. And now the populace, having had a taste of blood, could no longer

be restrained. Whether the plunder of the Protestants entered into the

original calculations of Catharine and her advisers, may perhaps be

doubted. But there is no question as to the turn which the affair soon

took in the minds of those engaged in it. Pillage was not always

countenanced by church and state: as a violation of the second table of

the Law, it was, under ordinary circumstances, atoned for by penance and

ecclesiastical censures; as a breach of the royal edicts, it was likely to

be punished with hanging or still more painful modes of execution.

Consequently, when by furnishing arms the civil power authorized the most

severe measures against those whom it accused of foul conspiracy against

the king, and when the professed minister of Christ and His gospel of

peace blessed the work of exterminating God's enemies and the king's,

there was no lack of men willing to profit by the rare and unexpected

opportunity. Nor did the courtiers disdain dishonest gain. The Duke of

Anjou was known to have enriched himself by the plunder of the shop of

Baduere, the king's jeweller.[1045] Noblemen, besides robbing their

victims of money, extorted from them, in return for a promise to spare

their lives, deeds of valuable lands, or papers resigning in their favor

high offices in the government. It was frequently the case that, after

giving such presents, the Huguenot was put out of the way at once, in

order to prevent him from ever retracting. Thus, Martial de Lomenie, a

secretary of the king, was murdered in prison, after having resigned his

office in favor of Marshal Retz, and sold to him his estate of Versailles,

at such a price as the latter chose to name, in the vain hope that this

would secure him liberty and life.[1046] The extent to which robbery was

carried on the occasion of the massacre is reluctantly conceded in the

pamphlet, which was published immediately after, as an apology of the

court for the hideous crime; and an attempt is made to justify it, which

is worthy of the source from which it drew its inspiration: "Now this

good-will of the people to sustain and defend its prince, to espouse his

quarrel, and to hate those who are not of his religion, is very

praiseworthy; and if in this execution [the massacre] some pillaging has

taken place, we must excuse the fury of a people impelled by a worthy

zeal--a zeal hard to be restrained and bridled when once excited."[1047]

[Sidenote: Orders issued to lay down arms.]

[Sidenote: Little heed given to them.]

But, despite panegyrists, the massacre had not been in progress many hours

before the very magistrates of the city appear to have become apprehensive

lest the movement might assume dangerous dimensions. It was only about

eleven o'clock on Sunday morning, as the registers of the Hotel de Ville

inform us, when Charles was waited upon by the prevot des marchands and

the echevins. They came to inform him that "a number of persons, partly

belonging to the suite of his Majesty, partly to that of the princes,

princesses, and lords of the court--gentlemen, archers of the king's

body-guard, soldiers of his suite, as well as all sorts of people mingled

with them and under their authority--were plundering and pillaging many

houses and killing many persons in the streets." This was certainly no

news to Charles; but as he desired, now that the massacre had begun, not

to enrich the Roman Catholic inhabitants of Paris, but to fill his own

coffers, he deemed it best to prohibit any further action on their part,

and to leave the rest of the work to his own commissioned servants.

Accordingly the municipal authorities were directed to ride through the

city with all the troops at their disposal, and to see to it, both by day

and night, that the bloodshed and robbery should cease. "Sir William

Guerrier"--thus runs one of the commissions to the "quarteniers" issued

from the central bureau of the city, in pursuance of these

directions--"give commandment to all burgesses and inhabitants of your

quarter, who to-day have taken up arms _according to the king's order_, to

lay them down, and to retire and remain quietly in their houses, ...

according to the king's command conveyed to us by my Lord of Nevers." And

this document is accompanied with another, of the same date, applying to

soldiers of the guard or others, who should pillage or maltreat

Protestants, and threatening them with punishment. Such a proclamation, it

is well known, was made by trumpet at about five o'clock that afternoon.

The registers tell us that the instructions were so well carried out that

all disorder "was at once appeased and ceased." They contain, however, a

distinct refutation of this falsehood, in the frequent repetition of

similar orders and the variety of forms in which the same statements are

made on subsequent days. Again and again does the king direct that

soldiers be placed at the head of every street to prevent robbery and

murder;[1048] the guards either were never posted, or, as is more likely,

became foremost in the work which they were sent to repress. Indeed, the

instructions given on Monday to visit all the houses in the city and its

suburbs where there were any Protestants, and obtain their names and

surnames,[1049] afforded an opportunity which was not permitted to slip by

unimproved, for the exaction of heavy bribes, as well as for more open

plunder and violence. So notorious was it, nearly a week after the

butchery began, that the massacre had only abated in intensity, that, on

the thirtieth of August, measures were adopted to prevent any wrong from

being done to foreign merchants sojourning in Paris, and especially to the

German, English, and Flemish students of the university.[1050]

[Sidenote: Miracle of the "Cimetiere des Innocents."]

The smile of Heaven, it was said by the Roman Catholic clergy, rested upon

the effort to extirpate heresy in France. They convinced the people of the

truth of their assertion by pointing to an unusual phenomenon which they

declared to be evidently miraculous. In the Cimetiere des Innocents and

before a small chapel of the Virgin Mary, there grew a white hawthorn,

which, according to some accounts, had for several years been to all

appearance dead. Great then was the surprise of those who, on the eventful

St. Bartholomew's Day, beheld the tree covered with a great profusion of

blossoms as fragrant as those flowers which the hawthorn usually puts

forth in May. It was true that no good reason could be assigned why the

wonder might not with greater propriety be explained, as the Protestants

afterward suggested, rather as a mark of Heaven's sympathy with oppressed

innocence. But no doubts entered the minds of the Parisian ecclesiastics.

They spread abroad the fame of the prodigy. They rang the church-bells in

token of joy, and invited the blood-stained populace to witness the sight,

and gain new courage in their murderous work. It may well be doubted

whether either the hawthorn or the virgin of the neighboring chapel

wrought the wonderful cures recorded by the curate of Meriot.[1051] But

certainly the reported intervention of Heaven setting its seal upon

treacherous assassination prolonged the slaughter of Huguenots. "It

seemed," says Claude Haton, reflecting the popular belief, "that God, by

this miracle, approved and accepted as well-pleasing to Him the Catholic

uprising and the death of His great enemy the admiral and his followers,

who for twelve years had been audaciously rending His seamless coat, which

is His true Church and His Bride."[1052] And so, what with the

encouragement afforded by the wonderful thorn-tree of the Cimetiere des

Innocents--what with the continuous fair weather, which was interpreted

after the same manner, the task of extirpating the heretical Huguenots was

prosecuted with a perseverance that never flagged. It is true that the

greater part of the work was done in the first three or four days; but it

was not terminated for several weeks, and many a Huguenot, coming out of

his place of concealment with the hope that time might have caused the

passions of his enemies to become less violent, was murdered in cold blood

by those who coveted his property. Several thousand persons were butchered

in Paris alone during the first few days, besides these later victims;

precisely how many, it is useless and perhaps impossible to fix with

certainty.[1053]

[Sidenote: The king's first letter to Mandelot.]

Meantime it became necessary to explain to the world the extraordinary

tragedy which had been enacted on so conspicuous a stage. Each of the

different parties to the nefarious compact, with that easy faith which

characterizes great criminals, had expected to satisfy its own resentment

at the sole expense of the honor and reputation of the others. The king

and his mother, while securing the death of Coligny and a few other

personal enemies, were not unwilling to have the world believe that the

entire occurrence had been an outburst of the old animosity of the Guises

against the Chatillons. In fact, this was distinctly stated in the

circular letter of Charles IX., despatched on the very Sunday on which the

massacre began, to the governors of the principal cities of the realm.

"Monsieur de Mandelot"--so runs one of these extraordinary epistles--"you

have learned what I wrote to you, the day before yesterday, respecting the

wounding of the admiral, and how that I was about to do my utmost in the

investigation of the case and the punishment of the guilty, wherein

nothing has been forgotten. Since then it has happened that the members of

the house of Guise, and the other lords and gentlemen who are their

adherents, and who have no small influence in this city, as everybody

knows, having received certain information that the friends of the admiral

intended to avenge this wound upon them--since they suspected them of

being its cause and occasion--became so much excited that, between the one

party and the other, there arose a great and lamentable commotion. The

body of guards which had been posted around the admiral's house was

overpowered, and he was killed with some other gentlemen, as there have

also been others massacred in various parts of this city. This was done so

furiously that it was impossible to apply such a remedy as could have been

desired; for I had as much as I could do in employing my guards and other

forces to retain my superiority in this castle of the Louvre,[1054] so as

afterward to take measures for allaying the commotion throughout the city.

At the present hour it has, thank God, subsided! It occurred through the

private quarrel which has long existed between these two houses. Always

foreseeing that some bad consequences would result from it, I have

heretofore done all that I could to appease it, as every one knows. There

is in this nothing leading to the rupture of the Edict of Pacification,

which, on the contrary, I intend to be maintained as much as ever."[1055]

In view of the undeniable fact that Charles affixed his signature to this

letter in the midst of a horrible massacre for which he himself had given

the signal, which he still directed, and concerning whose progress he

received hourly bulletins from the municipal authorities, it must be

admitted that the king showed himself no novice in the ignoble art of

shameless misrepresentation.

[Sidenote: Guise throws the responsibility on the king.]

Guise, on his part, was not less solicitous to relieve himself of

responsibility, and to lay the burden upon the king's shoulders. We have

seen that, at the very moment of Coligny's assassination, he began to

repeat the words: "It is the king's pleasure; it is his express command!"

as his warrant for the crime. As the massacre grew in extent he and his

associates became more reluctant to be held accountable for it,[1056] and

at last they forced Charles to acknowledge himself its sole author. The

queen mother and Anjou, it is said, were mainly instrumental in leading

the monarch to take this unexpected step. His original intention had been

to compel the Guises to leave the capital immediately after the death of

Coligny--a movement which would have given color to the theory of their

guilt. But it was not difficult for Catharine and Henry to convince him

that by so doing he would only render more irreconcilable the enmity

between the Guises and the Montmorencies, who plainly exhibited their

intention to exact vengeance for the death of their illustrious kinsman,

the admiral. In short, he would purchase brief respite from trouble at the

price of a fresh civil war, more cruel than any which had preceded.[1057]

[Sidenote: The king accepts it.]

[Sidenote: The "Lit de Justice."]

It was on Tuesday morning, the twenty-sixth of August, that the king

formally and publicly assumed the weighty responsibility. After hearing a

solemn mass, to render thanks to Almighty God for his happy deliverance

from his enemies, Charles, accompanied by his brothers, the Dukes of Anjou

and Alencon, by the King of Navarre, and by a numerous body of his

principal lords, proceeded to the parliament house, and there, in the

presence of all the chambers, held his "Lit de Justice."[1058] He opened

this extraordinary meeting by an address, in which he dilated upon the

intolerable insults he had, from his very childhood, experienced at the

hands of Coligny, and many other culprits, who had made religion a pretext

for rebellion. His attempts to secure peace by large concessions had

emboldened Coligny so far that he had at last ventured to conspire to kill

him, his mother, and his brothers, and even the King of Navarre, although

a Huguenot like himself; intending to place the Prince of Conde upon the

throne, and subsequently to put him also out of the way, and appropriate

the regal authority after the destruction of the entire royal family. In

order to ward off so horrible a blow, he had, he said, been compelled to

resort to extreme measures of rigor. He desired all men to know that the

steps taken on the preceding Sunday for the punishment of the guilty had

been in accordance with his orders. He is even reported to have gone

farther, and to have invoked the aid of parliament in condemning the

memory and confiscating the property of those against whom he had alleged

such abominable crimes.[1059]

[Sidenote: Servile reply of parliament.]

[Sidenote: Christopher de Thou.]

To this allocution the parliament replied with all servility. Christopher

de Thou, the first president, lauded the prudence of a monarch who had

known how to bear patiently repeated insults, and at last to crush a

conspiracy so dangerous to the quiet of the realm. And he quoted with

approval the infamous apothegm of Louis the Eleventh: "_Qui nescit

dissimulare, nescit regnare._" The solitary suggestion that breathed any

manly spirit was that of Pibrac, the "avocat-general," to the effect that

orders should be published to put an end to the work of murder and

robbery--a request which Charles readily granted.[1060] Never had the

supreme tribunal of justice abased itself more ignobly than when it

listened so complaisantly to the king, and approved without qualification

an organized massacre perpetrated unblushingly under its very eyes. As for

the distinguished man who lent himself to be the mouthpiece of adulation

worse than slavish, we are less inclined to commiserate the difficulty of

his position than to pity the ingenuous historian who strives to touch

leniently upon a fault of his father which he can neither conceal nor

palliate.[1061] We may credit his assertion that his father remonstrated

with the king in private with respect to that for which he had praised him

in public, and that Christopher de Thou marked his detestation of that

ill-starred day by applying to it the lines of Statius:

Excidat illa dies aevo, ne postera credant

Saecula: nos certe taceamus, et obruta multa

Nocte tegi propriae patiamur crimina gentis.

But we cannot forget that this was not the first time that Christopher de

Thou "accommodated" his words or his actions to the supposed "exigencies

of the times." He was a member of that commission that sentenced Louis of

Conde to death, in deference to the desires of another king and his

uncles, the Guises; and the prince would doubtless have lost his head in

consequence, but for the sudden death of Francis the Second. Since that

time he had repeatedly acquiesced in the bloody sentences of the Parisian

parliament. His voice was never heard opposing the proscription instituted

in the late civil wars, even in the case of the atrocious sentence against

Gaspard de Coligny. If we concede to his son that no one was of a less

sanguinary or of a milder disposition than President De Thou, we must also

insist that few judges on the bench displayed less magnanimity or

conscientiousness.[1062]

[Sidenote: Ineffectual effort to inculpate Coligny.]

But it was not a simple congratulatory address that Charles, or his

mother, required of his parliament. Tyrannical power is rarely satisfied

with the mere acquiescence of servile judges; it demands, and ordinarily

obtains from them, a positive indorsement of its schemes of successful

villainy. It was necessary--especially, as we shall see later, after the

cry of horror was heard that rose toward heaven from all parts of Europe

on receipt of the tidings of the massacre in Paris and elsewhere--to

palliate its atrocity by affixing to the slain Huguenots, and above all to

Coligny, a note of rebellious and murderous designs against the king and

the royal family. And here again the Parliament of Paris was as pliant as

its rulers could desire. Coligny's papers, both in Paris and at

Chatillon-sur-Loing, were subjected to close scrutiny; but nothing could

be discovered to warrant the suspicion that any seditious design had ever

been entertained by him. In default of something better, therefore, the

queen mother endeavored to make capital out of two passages of these

private manuscripts. In one--it was, we are told, the will of the admiral,

written toward the end of the third civil war[1063]--he dissuaded Charles

from assigning to his brothers appanages that might diminish the authority

of the crown. Catharine triumphantly showed it to Alencon. "See!" said

she; "this is your good friend the admiral, whom you so greatly loved and

respected!" "I know not," replied the young prince, "how much of a friend

he was to me; but certainly he showed by this advice how much he loved the

king."[1064] With Walsingham a similar attempt was made to deprive the

murdered hero of Queen Elizabeth's sympathy, but with as little success.

"To the end you may see how little your mistress was beholden to him,"

said Catharine de' Medici one day to the English ambassador, "you may see

a discourse found with his testament, made at such time as he was sick at

Rochel, wherein, amongst other advices that he gave to the king my son,

this is one, that he willed him in any case to keep the queen, your

mistress, and the King of Spain as low as he could, as a thing that tended

much to the safety and maintenance of this crown." "To that I answered,"

says Walsingham, "that in this point, howsoever he was affected towards

the queen my mistress, he showed himself a most true and faithful subject

to the crown of France, and the Queen's Majestie, my mistress, made the

more account of him, for that she knew him faithfully affected to the

same."[1065]

[Sidenote: Coligny's memory declared infamous.]

[Sidenote: Petty indignities.]

The complete absence of proof of all designs save the most patriotic,

and, on the other hand, the clear evidence that Coligny sought for the

quiet and growth of the religious community to which he belonged, only in

connection with the honor and prosperity of his own country, did not deter

the pliant parliament from pursuing the course prescribed for it. A little

more than two months after the Massacre of St. Bartholomew's Day (October

the twenty-seventh, 1572), the admiral's sentence was formally pronounced.

He was proclaimed a traitor and the author of a conspiracy against the

king; his goods were confiscated, his memory declared infamous. His

children were degraded from their rank as nobles, and pronounced "ignoble,

villains, _roturiers_, infamous, unworthy, and incapable of making a will,

or of holding offices, dignities or possessions in France." It was ordered

that his castle of Chatillon-sur-Loing should be razed to the ground,

never to be rebuilt, and that the site should be sown with salt; that the

trees of the park should be cut down to half their height, and a

monumental pillar be erected on the spot, with a copy of this decree

inscribed upon it. His portraits and statues were to be destroyed; his

arms, wherever found, to be dragged at the horse's tail and publicly

destroyed by the hangman; his body--if any fragments could be obtained,

or, if not, his effigy--was to be dragged on a hurdle, and hung first on

the Greve and then on a loftier gibbet at Montfaucon. Finally, public

prayers and a solemn procession were ordered to take place in Paris on

every successive anniversary of the feast of St. Bartholomew.[1066]

Thus was the memory of one of the noblest characters that illustrated the

sixteenth century pursued with envenomed hatred, after death had placed

Coligny himself beyond the power of the murderous queen mother to inflict

more substantial injury upon him. To his mortal remains all that malice

could do had already been done. What remained of a mutilated body had been

taken from the hands of those precocious criminals, the boys of Paris,

and hung up by the feet upon the gallows at Montfaucon.[1067] A great part

of the capital had gone out to look upon the grateful sight. Charles the

Ninth was of the number of the visitors, and, when others showed signs of

disgust at the stench arising from the putrefaction of a corpse long

unburied, is said to have exclaimed "that the smell of a dead enemy is

very sweet."[1068] Great was the merriment of the low populace; copious

were the effusions of wit. Jacques Copp de Vellay, in his poetical

diatribe, published with privilege--"Le Deluge des Huguenotz"--sings with

great delight of

Mont-Faulcon, ou les attend

Ce grand Gaspar au curedent,

Attache par les piedz sans teste.[1069]

At last, four or five days after Coligny's death, a body of thirty or

forty horse, sent by Marshal Montmorency, took down the remains by night,

and gave them decent burial.[1070]

[Sidenote: A jubilee procession.]

[Sidenote: Charles declares that he will maintain his edict.]

Not content with the public admission of his responsibility for the

massacre which he had made before the parliament, Charles with his court

participated two days later (Thursday, the twenty-eighth of August) in the

celebration of a jubilee, and walked in a procession through the streets

of Paris; at successive "stations" rendering thanks to Heaven, with fair

show of devotion, for the preservation of his own life, and the lives of

his brothers and of _the King of Navarre_. It would have served greatly to

give a color of plausibility to the report of the conspiracy of the

Huguenots, could Navarre and Conde have been prevailed upon to appear in

the king's company on this occasion. But it must be mentioned to their

honor, that they were proof against the persuasions as well as the threats

of Charles.[1071] The same day a royal declaration was published,

reiterating the allegations made in the Palais de Justice, but protesting

that the king was determined to maintain his edict of pacification. As,

however, the Protestants were forbidden for the present from holding any

public or private assemblies for worship, it must be admitted that they

were not far wrong in regarding the declaration as only another part of

the trap cunningly devised for their destruction.[1072]

[Sidenote: Forced conversion of Navarre and Conde.]

Although the conversion of the young King of Navarre and his cousin, the

Prince of Conde, did not occur until some weeks later, it may be

appropriately mentioned here. No means were left untried to gain them over

to the Roman Catholic religion. The sophistries of monks were

supplemented by the more dangerous persuasions of a renegade Protestant

minister, Hugues Sureau du Rosier, formerly one of the pastors of the

church of Orleans.[1073] Whatever excuse his arguments may have furnished

by covering their renunciation of their faith with the decent cloak of

conviction, _fear_ was certainly the chief instrument in effecting the

desired change in the Huguenot princes. There is no room for doubt that

the character of Charles underwent a marked change, as we shall see later,

from the time that he consented to the massacre. He became more sullen,

more violent, more impatient of contradiction or opposition. It is not at

all unlikely that a mind never fully under control of reason, and now

assuredly thrown from its poise by a desperation engendered of remorse for

the fearful crime he had reluctantly approved, at times formed the

resolution to kill the obstinate King of Navarre and his cousin. On one

occasion Charles is said to have been deterred by the supplications of his

young wife from going in person to destroy them.[1074] At length, when the

alternative of death or the Bastile was the only one presented, the

courage of the Bourbons began to falter. Navarre was the first to yield,

and his sister, the excellent Catharine de Bourbon, followed his example.

On the thirteenth of September the ambassador Walsingham wrote: "They

prepare Bastile for some persons of quality. It is thought that it is for

the Prince of Conde and his brethren."[1075] But three days later (the

sixteenth of September) he wrote again: "On Sunday last, which was the

fourteenth of this month, the young Princess of Conde was constrained to

go to mass, being threatened otherwise to go to prison, and so

consequently to be made away. The Prince of Conde hath also yielded to

hear mass upon Sunday next, being otherwise threatened to go to the

Bastile, where he is not like long to serve."[1076] Such conversions did

not promise to prove very sincere. They were accepted, however, by the

king and his mother; although both Navarre and Conde were detained at

court rather as prisoners than as free princes. Pope Gregory the

Thirteenth received the submission of both cousins to the authority of the

See of Rome, recognized the validity of their marriages, and formally

admitted them to his favor, by a special bull of the twenty-seventh of

October, 1572.[1077] In return for these concessions Henry of Navarre

repealed the ordinances which his mother had made for the government of

Bearn, and re-established the Roman Catholic worship.[1078]

FOOTNOTES:

[925] Memoires de Marguerite de Valois, 25, 26.

[926] No dispensation was ever granted until _after_ the marriage, and

after Henry of Navarre's simulated conversion to Roman Catholicism. Then,

of course, there was no need of further hesitation, and the document was

granted, of which a copy is printed in Documents historiques inedits, i.

713-715. The bull is dated Oct. 27, 1572. There is, then, no necessity for

Mr. Henry White's uncertainty (Massacre of St. Bartholomew, 370): "The new

pope, Gregory XIII., appears to have been more compliant, or the letter

stating that a dispensation was on the road must have been a forgery."

[927] De Thou, iv. (liv. lii.), 569; Lo stratagema di Carlo IX. re di

Francia, contro gli Ugonotti, rebelli di Dio e suoi; descritto dal signor

Camillo Capilupi, e mandato di Roma al signor Alfonzo Capilupi. Ce

stratageme est cy apres mis en Francois avec un avertissement au lecteur.

1574. Orig. ed., p. 22.

[928] Memoires de l'estat de France sous Charles IX. (Cimber et Danjou,

vii. 78.)

[929] "Avec certain formulaire que les uns et les autres n'improuvoyent

point." Mem. de l'estat, _ubi supra_, vii. 79.

[930] As De Thou here speaks as an eye-witness of the marriage, I follow

his description very closely. Histoire univ., iv. (liv. lii.) 469, 470.

Agrippa d'Aubigne was not in Paris (Memoires, edit. Pantheon, p. 478), and

his account is meagre and deficient in originality. Hist. univ., ii. 12

(liv. i., c. 3). It is quite in keeping with the brave Gascon's character,

that, having come to Paris some days before, in order to obtain a

commission to command a company of soldiers which he had raised for the

war in Flanders, he had been obliged to leave almost instantly upon his

arrival, because he had acted as the second of a friend in a duel, and

wounded in the face an archer who endeavored to arrest him. Tavannes makes

Coligny suggest the removal of the ensigns taken from the Protestants as

"marques de troubles," and playfully claim for himself the 50,000 crowns

promised to any one who should bring the admiral's head. Memoires, ed.

Petitot, iii. 293.

[931] Memoires de l'Etat, _ubi supra_, pp. 79, 80; De Thou, _ubi supra_. I

have not deemed it out of place to describe some of the diversions with

which the French court occupied itself on the eve of the massacre. The

connection between reckless merriment and cold-blooded cruelty is often

startlingly close. Besides this, the finances of the country were so

hopelessly involved, as the consequence of the late civil wars, that this

lavish expenditure was particularly ill-timed. If old Gaspard de Tavannes

was as blunt as his son represents him to have been, he gave Charles some

good, but, like most good, unheeded advice. "Sire," said he, a propos of

the extravagance of the court at Guise's marriage in 1570, "you should

make a feast, and instead of the singers who are brought in artificial

clouds, you should bring those who would tell you this truth: 'You are

dolts! You spend your money in festivals, in pomps and masks, and do not

pay your men-at-arms nor your soldiers; foreigners will beat you!'"

Memoires, ed. Petitot, iii. 183.

[932] I had translated this letter from the copy given by the Memoires de

l'estat de France (_apud_ Archives curieuses, vii. 80, 81), which agrees

substantially with, and was probably derived from, the version given in

Hotman's Gasparis Colinii Vita (1575), 106, 107. On comparing it, however,

with the transcript of the original autograph in the remarkable collection

of the late Col. Henri Tronchin, given by M. Jules Bonnet in the Bulletin

de la Soc. de l'hist. du prot. francais, i. (1853), 369, I discover

extraordinary discrepancies, and find that, in addition to a different

phraseology in every sentence, one clause is inserted by Hotman of which

there is not a trace in the Tronchin MS. I refer to the words: "Soyez

asseuree de ma part que, parmi ces festins et passe-temps, _je ne donneray

fascherie a personne_"--which would, of course, point to the prevailing

fears of a collision between the admiral and the young Duke of Guise, or

his retainers, whose hatred of Coligny was so well known that Charles IX.

had issued a special injunction to the parties to keep the peace. The

letter contains at the commencement of the postscript a playful allusion

to the hope of his wife soon to be a mother.

[933] Mem. de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 88, 89; De Thou, iv. (liv. lii.) 570.

The mechanical part of these exhibitions was well executed. In the

"_enfer_" there were "un grand nombre de diables et petis diabloteaux

faisans infinies singeries et tintamarres avec une grande roue tournant

dedans ledit enfer, toute environnee de clochettes." The singer, Etienne

le Roy, was again the "deus ex machina," coming from heaven and returning

thither, in the character of Mercury mounted upon a gigantic bird. The

final explosion inspired so much consternation among the spectators, that

it effectually cleared the hall.

[934] They were married at Blandy, a castle belonging to the Marquise de

Rothelin, near Melun, where its ruins are still to be seen (Saint-Fargeau,

Dict. des communes de France, s. v.), about a week before the marriage of

Navarre, August 10, 1572. Tocsain contre les massacreurs (Arch. curieuses,

vii. 42). Marie of Cleves was a daughter of the Duke of Nevers, and sister

of Catharine of Cleves, Prince Porcien's widow, whom Henry of Guise had

married in Sept., 1570. Journal de Jehan de la Fosse, 146.

[935] It is astonishing to see what considerable distances the Protestants

were obliged to go in order to enjoy any religious privileges, and what

fatigue they willingly underwent in order to avail themselves of them. In

1563, immediately after the close of the first civil war, instead of being

assigned a place for worship in the suburbs, according to the terms of the

edict, the Protestants of Troyes were told to go to Ceant-en-Othe--full

_eight leagues_, or about _twenty-four miles_; nor could they obtain

justice by any remonstrances with the court! As they went to Ceant, in

spite of its inconvenient distance, and of the death of several children

taken thither to be baptized, the Romanists, in 1570, actually proposed to

remove the Protestant _preche_ still farther off, to Villenauxe, _thirteen

leagues from Troyes!_ Happily, after a while, they availed themselves of

the hospitality of a feudal lord nearer by. Recordon, Le protestantisme en

Champagne (MSS. of N. Pithou), 136, etc., 149, 163.

[936] Ibid., pp. 168, 169. The Roman Catholics of Troyes sent, about the

middle of August, two deputies to get the Protestant place of worship

removed from Isle-au-Mont, who were present at the massacre.

[937] Baschet, La diplomatie venitienne, p. 540.

[938] This confession exists in manuscript in the National Library of

Paris (Fonds de Bouhier, 59), under the heading: "Discours du Roy Henry

troisiesme a un personnage d'honneur et de qualite estant pres de sa

majeste, sur les causes et motifs de la St. Barthelemy." It is printed in

an appendix to the Memoires de Villeroy (Petitot ed., xliv. 496-510). Its

authenticity is vouched for by Matthieu, the historiographer of Louis

XIII., and is corroborated by its remarkable agreement with what we can

learn from other sources. Cf., especially, Soldan, Frankreich und die

Bartholomaeusnacht, 224-226. Some suppose that M. de Souvre, and not Miron,

was the person with whom the conversation at Cracow was held. Martin,

Hist. de France, x. 315.

[939] Discours du Roy Henry III., Mem. de Villeroy, 499, 500.

[940] See J. Bonnet, Vie d'Olympia Morata (Paris, 1850), 20, etc.

[941] Discours du Roy Henry III., ibid., p. 501. The nuncio, Salviati,

informs us that young Guise urged his mother herself to kill Coligny.

[942] The article on the massacre in the North British Review for October,

1869--an article to which I shall have occasion more than once to

refer--brings forward a number of passages in the diplomatic

correspondence, especially of the minor Italian states, pointing in this

direction. They can all, I am convinced, be satisfactorily explained,

without admitting the conclusion, to which the writer evidently leans, of

a _distinct_, though not a _long_ premeditation.

[943] "Mad. la Regente venuta in differenza di lui, risolvendosi pochi

giorni prima, gli la fece tirare, e senza saputa del Re, ma con

participatione di M. di Angiu, di Mad. de Nemours, e di M. di Guisa suo

figlio; e se moriva subito non si ammazzava altri," etc. Salviati, desp.

of Sept. 22, 1572, _apud_ Mackintosh, Hist. of England, vol. iii.,

Appendix K. It will be remembered that these despatches were given to Sir

James Mackintosh by M. de Chateaubriand, who had obtained them from the

Vatican. I need not say how much more trustworthy are the secret

despatches of one so well informed as the nuncio, than the sensational

"Stratagema" of Capilupi, which pretends (ed. of 1574, p. 26) that

_Charles_ placed Maurevel in the house from which he shot at Coligny, on

discovering that the admiral had formed the plan of firing Paris the next

night. To believe these champions of orthodoxy, the Huguenots were born

with a special passion for incendiary exploits. It does not seem to strike

them that burning and pillaging Paris would not be likely to appear to

Coligny a probable means of furthering the war in Flanders. Besides, what

need is there of any such Huguenot plot, even according to Capilupi's own

view, since he carries back the premeditation of the massacre on the part

of Charles at least four years?

[944] Le Reveille-Matin des Francois, etc., Archives curieuses, vii. 173;

Eusebii Philadelphi Dialogi (1574), i. 33. It has been customary to

interpret this language and similar expressions as covertly referring to

the massacre which was then four days off. But this seems absurd.

Certainly, if Charles was privy to the plan for Coligny's murder, he must

have expected him to be killed on Friday--that is, within less than two

days. If so, what peculiar significance in the _four_ days? For, if a

general massacre had been at first contemplated, no interval of two days

would have been allowed. Everybody must have known that if the arquebuse

shot had done its work, and Coligny had been killed on the spot, every

Huguenot would have been far from the walls of Paris long before Sunday.

As it was, it was only the admiral's confidence, and the impossibility of

moving him with safety, that detained them.

[945] Capilupi, Lo stratagema di Carlo IX., 1574. Orig. ed., pp. 24, 25,

and the concurrent French version, pp. 42, 43. This version is

incorporated _verbatim_ in the Memoires de l'estat de France sous Charles

IX. (Archives curieuses), vii. 89, 90. In like manner the "Memoires,"

which are in great part a mere compilation, take page after page from the

"Reveille-Matin."

[946] "Ainsi qu'il sortoit presentement du Louvre, pour aller disner en

son logis." Charles's letter of the same day to La Mothe Fenelon, Corresp.

dipl., vii. 322.

[947] It is of little moment whether the assassin at his window was

screened by a lattice, or by a curtain, as De Thou says, or by bundles of

straw, as Capilupi states. I prefer the account of the "Reveille-Matin,"

as the author tells us that he was one of the twelve or fifteen gentlemen

in Coligny's suite--"entre lesquels j'estoy" (p. 174). So the Latin ed.,

Euseb. Philad. Dialogi, i. 34.

[948] The Rue de Bethisy was the continuation of the Rue des Fosses Saint

Germain l'Auxerrois, through which he was walking when he was shot. In the

sixteenth century the street bore the former name, beginning at the Rue de

l'Arbre Sec, at the corner of which Coligny appears to have lodged. In

later times the name was confined to the part east of Rue de Roule.

Dulaure, Histoire de Paris, iv. 259. The extension of the Rue de Rivoli,

under the auspices of Napoleon III., has not only destroyed the house in

which Coligny was murdered, but obliterated the Rue de Bethisy itself.

[949] "Qu'il n'aviendroit que ce qu'il plairoit a Dieu." Reveille-Matin,

175; Euseb. Philad. Dialogi (1574), i. 35; Memoires de l'estat, 94.

[950] See _ante_, chapter xvi.

[951] Reveille-Matin, _ubi sup._, 175; and Euseb. Philad. Dialogi. i. 34,

35; Memoires de l'estat, _ubi sup._, 93, etc.; Jean de Serres (1575), iv.

fol. 25; Tocsain contre les Massacreurs (orig. ed.), 113, etc.; Registres

du Bureau de la ville de Paris (Archives curieuses, vii. 211); despatch of

Salviati of Aug. 22. App. F to Mackintosh, Hist. of England, iii. 354; De

Thou, iv. (liv. lii.) 574; Jehan de la Fosse, 147, 148; Baschet. La

diplomatie venit., 548.

[952] Memoires de l'estat, _ubi sup._, 94; Jean de Serres (1575), iv.,

fols. 25, 26; Reveille-Matin, 176; Euseb. Philad. Dial., i. 35; De Thou,

iv. (liv. lii.) 574.

[953] Tocsain contre les massacreurs, Archives cur., vii. 45;

Reveille-Matin, 177; Memoires de l'estat, 98.

[954] Gasparis Colinii Vita (1574), 108-110; Memoires de l'estat de

Charles IX., _ubi supra_, 94-98. The two accounts are evidently from the

same hand.

[955] Memoires de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 98.

[956] Damville, Meru and Thore, were sons of the constable. Their eldest

brother, Marshal Francis de Montmorency, whose greatest vice was his

sluggishness and his devotion to his ease, had left Paris a few days

before, on the pretext of going to the chase. His absence at the time of

the massacre was supposed to have saved not only his life, but that of his

brothers. The Guises would gladly have destroyed a family whose influence

and superior antiquity had for a generation been obnoxious to their

ambitious designs; but it was too hazardous to leave the head of the

family to avenge his murdered brothers.

[957] There was no need of going far, Coligny responded, to discover the

author. "Qu'on en demande a Monsieur de Guise, il dira qui est celuy qui

m'a preste une telle charite; mais Dieu ne me soit jamais en aide si je

demande vengeance d'un tel outrage." Mem. de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 104,

105.

[958] Gasparis Colinii Vita, 114-121; Memoires de l'estat, _ubi supra_,

102-106. The two accounts agree almost word for word. There is a briefer

narrative in Reveille-Matin, 178, 179; and Euseb. Philad. Dialogi, i. 37.

[959] Discours du roy Henry III., _ubi supra_, 502-505.

[960] Le roi a Mandelot, 22 aout, Correspondance du roi Charles IX. et du

sieur de Mandelot (Paris, 1830), 36, 37.

[961] Corresp. dipl. de La Mothe Fenelon, vii. 322, 323.

[962] Memoires de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 106, 107.

[963] Ibid., 108.

[964] There is here, however, a direct contradiction, which I shall not

attempt to reconcile, between the account of Henry and that of the younger

Tavannes, who represents Retz as one of the most violent in his

recommendations. According to Tavannes, it was his father, Marshal

Tavannes, that advocated moderation. In other respects the two accounts

are strongly corroborative of each other.

[965] Discours du roy Henry III., 505-508.

[966] Memoires de Gaspard de Saulx, seigneur de Tavannes, by his son, Jean

de Saulx, vicomte de Tavannes (Petitot edition), iii. 293, 294.

[967] "Reginam quidem certum est dictitare solitam, edita strage, 'se

tantum _sex_ hominum interfectorum sanguinem in suam conscientiam

recipere.'" Jean de Serres (ed. of 1575), iv., fol. 29. The whole passage

is interesting.

[968] "Le roy Henry quatriesme disoit que ce qu'il ne m'avoit tenu

promesse estoit en vengeance des services faicts par le sieur de Tavannes

mon pere aux batailles de Jarnac et Montcontour, mais le principal, parce

qu'il l'accusoit d'avoir conseille la Sainct Barthelemy; ce qu'il disoit a

ses familiers, et a tort, parce que ledict sieur de Tavannes en ce

temps-la fut cause qu'il ne courust la mesme fortune que le sieur admiral

de Coligny." Memoires de Tavannes (Petitot edit.), iii. 222.

[969] To ascribe the conduct of Catharine de' Medici herself to any such

motive is the extreme of absurdity. Even the author of the "Tocsain contre

les massacreurs" rejects the supposition without hesitation. (Original

edition, p. 157.) Catharine was certainly a free-thinker, probably an

atheist.

[970] Memoires de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 108.

[971] Ibid., 109.

[972] Memoires de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 110, 111.

[973] Ibid., 111; Gasparis Colinii Vita (1575), 124.

[974] Memoires de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 112.

[975] Reveille-Matin, _ubi supra_, 179; Memoires de l'estat, _ubi sup._,

113.

[976] Capilupi, 30, 31; Mem. de l'estat, _ubi sup._, 107, 108.

[977] Extrait des Registres et Croniques du Bureau de la ville de Paris,

Archives curieuses, vii. 213.

[978] The successive orders are given in the Archives curieuses, vii.

215-217.

[979] Discours du roy Henry III., 509.

[980] Tocsain contre les massacreurs, 121; Mem. de l'estat, _ubi sup._,

116; Jean de Serres, iv. (1575), fol. 31.

[981] Jean de Serres, iv. (1575), fol. 30.

[982] Mem. de l'estat, _ubi sup._, 117, 118; Jean de Serres (1575), iv.

32.

[983] The startling inconsistency evidently struck Capilupi very strongly,

for he tries to reconcile it, but succeeds only poorly. According to him,

it was either a ruse to throw Charles IX. off his guard by a pretence of

confidence in his good faith, or an act of consummate folly. Any way,

great thanks are due to Heaven! "Et sia stato fatto questo da lui, o con

arte, per dimostrar di non dubitare della fede del Re, per tanto piu

assicurar sua Maesta, fin che fosse in termine d'effettuar i diabolici

suoi pensieri; o vero scioccamente, non diffidando veramente di cosa

alcuna; in tutti modi si ha da riconoscer da gratia particolare di Dio,"

etc. Lo stratagema di Carlo IX., 1574, 80.

[984] The topography of the massacre is made the subject of a paper,

entitled: "Les victimes de la Saint-Barthelemy," Bulletin de la Soc. de

l'hist. du prot. fr., ix. (1860) 34-44.

[985] G. Colinii Vita (1575), 127. Mem. de l'estat, _ubi sup._, 114.

[986] Mem. de l'estat, 118, 119; Jean de Serres (1575), iv., fol. 32;

Reveille-Matin, 180; Euseb. Philad. Dialogi (1574), 39, 40.

[987] Joh. Wilh. von Botzheim, in his narrative, gives several versions of

the words. According to one they were: "_Behem_--'N'est tu pas Admiral?'

_Admiralius_--'Ouy, je le suis. Mais vous estes bien un jeune souldat pour

parler ainsi avec un vieil capitaine, pour le moins au respect de ma

vielesse.' _Behem_--'Je suis assez aage (age) por te faire ta reste.'"

Cyclopica illa atque inaudita hactenus detestanda atque execranda laniena,

quae facta est Lutetia, Aureliis, etc., published in F. W. Ebeling,

Archivalische Beitraege zur Geschichte Frankreichs unter Carl IX. (Leipsic,

1872), 107, 108.

[988] Capilupi puts in Besme's mouth the words: "Now, traitor, restore to

me the blood of my master, which thou didst impiously take away from me!"

It is not at all improbable that he used some such expression. Lo

stratagema di Carlo IX., 34.

[989] Jean de Serres, De statu reipub. et rel. (1575), iv., fols. 32, 33;

Memoires de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 119-122; Vita Gasparis Colinii

Castellonii, magni quondam Franciae Amirallii (_sine loco_, 1575), pp.

127-131; 178-180. These latter accounts, which agree perfectly, are the

best. Reveille-Matin, _ubi sup._, 182, and Euseb. Philad. Dialogi (1574),

i. 39, 40; Tocsain contre les massacreurs (Rheims, 1579), 121-123;

Capilupi, Lo stratagema di Carlo IX. (1574), 33, etc.; Journal d'un cure

ligueur (Jehan de la Fosse), 148, 149; Relation of Olaegui, secretary of

D. de Cuniga, Spanish ambassador at Paris; Particularites inedites sur la

St. Barthelemi, Gachard in Bulletins de l'Academie royale de Belgique,

xvi. (1849), 252, 253; Alva's bulletin prepared for distribution, ibid.,

ix. (1842), 563. Both are very inaccurate. De Thou, iv. (liv. lii.) 584,

585; Agrippa d'Aubigne, ii. 16 (liv. i., c. 4).

[990] "Le lundy d'apres, ayant la teste ostee et les parties honteuses

coupees _par les petits enfans_, fut d'iceulx petits enfans qui estoient

jusques au nombre de 2 ou 300, traine, le ventre en haut, parmy les

ruisseaux de la ville de Paris." Jehan de la Fosse, 149. See the long

account in Von Botzheim's narration, _ubi supra_, 113.

[991] Memoires de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 122.

[992] Letter of Mandelot to Charles IX., Sept. 5, 1572, Correspondance du

roi Charles IX. et du sieur de Mandelot (Edited by P. Paris, Paris, 1830),

56-58.

[993] Of this memorable enterprise Coligny has left "Memoires" which are

contained in the collection of Petitot, etc. It is the only military

treatise we possess coming from the admiral's hand, and it enters into the

subject with technical minuteness. The destruction by his royal murderers

of the admiral's papers (including diaries that would have thrown great

light upon the transactions of the last two years of his life), see Vita

Gasparis Colinii (1575), i. 138, was an irretrievable loss to history. We

are told also of a much more recent act of vandalism, not even palliated

by the miserable excuse of political expediency: "In 1810, an inhabitant

of Chatillon having discovered in the solitary remaining tower of the old

castle a walled chamber wherein were the archives of the Coligny family

and of the family of Luxemburg, burned all the papers from motives of

private interest. Some fragments that escaped this conflagration, and

which are preserved in the mairie, prove that a correspondence between

Catharine de' Medici and Coligny had been laid away in this repository."

Bulletin de la Societe de l'histoire du prot. francais, iii. (1854) 351.

[994] _Ante_, chapter xiii.

[995] Testament olographe de l'amiral Coligny, Bulletin de la Soc. de

l'hist. du prot. francais, i. (1852) 263, etc. The authenticity of this

document, though called in question on historical grounds, has been

conclusively established by M. Jules Bonnet, Bulletin, xxiv. (1875)

332-335.

[996] Alberi, Relazioni Venete, vol. iv., 1st series, _apud_ Baschet, La

diplomatie venitienne, i. 536, 537. There is, however, the greatest

improbability in the story that Coligny advanced such claims in his own

behalf as his admirers made for him. We may reject as apocryphal--for they

stand in palpable contradiction with the whole tenor of his

utterances--the words ascribed by Lord Macaulay to the great Huguenot hero

(History of England, New York, 1879, iv. 488): "'In one respect,' said the

Admiral Coligni, 'I may claim superiority over Alexander, over Scipio,

over Caesar. They won great battles, it is true. I have lost four great

battles; and yet I show to the enemy a more formidable front than ever.'"

Cf. Davila, bk. v., p. 179.

[997] Vita Gasparis Colinii (1575), pp. 133-137, translated by D. D.

Scott, under the title, "Memoirs of the Admiral de Coligny," 183-187. I

have abridged the account by omitting some less important particulars.

[998] Discours sur les causes de l'execution faicte es personnes de ceux

qui avoient conjure contre le Roy et son estat. A Paris, a l'olivier de P.

l'Huillier, rue St. Jacques. 1572. _Avec privilege._ (Archives curieuses,

vii. 231-249.) Capilupi, Lo stratagema di Carlo IX., 1574, p. 26.

[999] Memoires de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 123; Jean de Serres (1575), iv.,

fol. 30; Reveille-Matin, 182; Eusebii Philadelphi Dialogi, i. 40.

[1000] "La Royne ma mere respond, que s'il plaisoit a Dieu je n'auroit

point de mal; mais quoy que ce fust, il falloit que j'allasse, de peur de

leur faire soupconner quelque chose qui empeschast l'effect."

[1001] Memoires de Marguerite de Valois, 32, 33.

[1002] See _ante_, chapter xvi.

[1003] Memoires de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 123, 124; Jean de Serres (1575),

iv., fol. 34; Reveille-Matin, 182; Eusebii Philadelphi Dialogi, i. 40;

Tocsain contre les massacreurs, 125, 126.

[1004] Agrippa d'Aubigne, ii. 18 (liv. i., c. 4).

[1005] Memoires de Marguerite de Valois, 345.

[1006] Reveille-Matin, _ubi supra_, 183; Euseb. Philad. Dialogi, i. 40;

Mem. de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 126. Charles was not generally so

complaisant. Fervaques in vain interceded for his friend Captain Moneins.

Tocsain, 126.

[1007] Mem. de l'estat, _ubi sup._, 124; Jean de Serres (1575), iv., fol.

35; Reveille-Matin, 182; Euseb. Philadelphi Dial., i. 40; De Thou, iv.

(liv. lii.) 590.

[1008] "Avec une contenance fort esmeue et abatue." Mem. de l'estat.

"Humilissimo animo et consternate ore." Jean de Serres, _ubi supra_.

[1009] Jean de Serres's "_consternatiori_ tamen animo" is an evident

misprint for "_constantiori_ tamen animo."

[1010] Memoires de l'estat, 124, 125; Jean de Serres, iv., fol. 35

_verso_; Reveille-Matin, 183; Eusebii Philad. Dial. (1574), i. 40; De

Thou, iv. (liv. lii.) 590; Agrippa d'Aubigne, Hist. univ., ii. 19 (liv.

i., c. 4).

[1011] Eusebii Phil. Dialogi, i. 40, 41; Reveille-Matin, _ubi sup._, 183,

copied _verbatim_ in Mem. de l'estat, 126. The Reveille-Matin removes the

apparent contradiction between the various accounts respecting the bell

that gave the signal for the massacre by showing that _both_ bells were

rung. So also Agrippa d'Aubigne, ii. 16 (liv. i., c. 4), after mentioning

how Catharine, for the time being, removed Charles's hesitation by

alleging the necessity of cutting off the corrupt members in order to save

the Church, the Bride of Christ, and citing the saying: "Che pieta lor ser

crudele. Che crudelta lor ser pietosa," adds: "Le roi se resout, et elle

avance le tocsain du Palais, en faisant sonner _une heure et demie_ devant

celui de Sainct Germain de l'Auxerrois." By neglecting the clue thus

given, the chronological order of the events of the day has been lost by a

number of historians. It will be noticed that the number of the royal

guards reported to have been slain was, strangely enough, derived from

that of the Huguenot gentlemen butchered in the Louvre by those very

guards. The story may have been perpetuated by misapprehension of the

facts; it could have arisen only from wilful falsehood.

[1012] Tocsain contre les massacreurs (Rheims, 1579), 124, 125;

Reveille-Matin, 126; Eusebii Philadelphi Dialogi, i. 41; Agrippa

d'Aubigne, ii. 18; De Thou, iv. (liv. lii.) 586.

[1013] Tocsain contre les massacreurs, 125; Agrippa d'Aubigne, ii. 18; De

Thou, iv. (liv. lii.) 586; Euseb. Philad. Dialogi, _ubi supra_.

[1014] "The courtiers and the soldiers of the royal guard were the

executioners of this commission on the (Huguenot) noblesse, terminating,

they said, by the sword and general disorder, those processes which pens

and paper and the order of justice had hitherto failed to bring to an

issue." Reveille-Matin, _ubi supra_, 184; Eusebii Philad. Dialogi, i 41;

Memoires de l'estat, 127.

[1015] Agrippa d'Aubigne, ii. 18.

[1016] Tocsain contre les massacreurs, 136, 137.

[1017] Reveille-Matin, _ubi supra_, 184, 185; Eusebii Philad. Dial., i.

42; Mem. de l'estat, 127; Jean de Serres (1575), iv. 38; De Thou, iv.

(liv. lii.) 588; Agrippa d'Aubigne, ii. 18. The minor details of the story

are given, with variations, by different authors. D'Aubigne gives us

Biron's answer to the commands and menaces with which Madame de la

Chataigneraie sought to gain possession of young La Force: "I would

certainly intrust him in the hands of his relative, in order to take care

of him, but not in the hands of his next heir, who took too great care of

him yesterday morning," ii. 21. It must be noted, however, that the

"Memoires authentiques de Jacques Nompar de Caumont, Duc de la Force,

Marechal de France, recueillis par le Marquis de la Grange" (Paris, 1843),

i. 2-37, so far from accusing the sister of La Force, ascribe the

persistent attempts to secure his death solely to Archan (or Larchant),

who had _married_ this sister; and they state that, at her death, she left

her property, including what she had inherited from her husband, to her

brother.

[1018] Memoires de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 146

[1019] Mem. de l'estat, 146; Tocsain contre les massacreurs, 129, 130; De

Thou, iv. (liv. lii.) 592; Claude Haton, ii. 678; Agrippa d'Aubigne, ii.

20.

[1020] Tocsain, 136.

[1021] Mem. de l'estat, 146.

[1022] "Radices, atque etiam radicum fibras, funditus evellas." Pii Quinti

Epistolae, 111. See _ante_, chapter xvi., p. 308.

[1023] Mem. de l'estat, 147. The children of other cities emulated the

example of those of Paris. In Provins, in the month of October, 1572, a

Huguenot, Jean Crespin, after having been hung by the officers of justice,

was taken down from the gallows by "les petis enfans de Provins, _de l'age

de douze ans et au dessoubz_," to the number of more than one hundred. By

these mimic judges he was declared unworthy to be dragged save by his

feet, and, his punishment by hanging being reckoned too light, he was

roasted in a fire of straw, and presently thrown into the river. Numbers

of older persons looked on, approving and encouraging the children; a few

good Catholics were grieved to see such cruelty practised on a dead body.

Mem. de Claude Haton, ii. 704-706.

[1024] Mem. de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 128.

[1025] "On en remarqua qui avoient les yeux attaches sur le corps du Baron

du Pont, pour voir si elles y trouveroient quelque cause ou quelque marque

de l'impuissance qu'on lui reprochoit." De Thou, iv. (liv. lii.) 587. See

Euseb. Philadelphi Dial., i. 45, and Jean de Serres (1575) iv., fol. 39.

[1026] "Le Roy, la Royne mere, et leurs courtisans, rioyent a gorge

desployee." Mem. de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 132.

[1027] The prevot, echevins, etc., "du tout, auroient, d'heure en heure,

rendu compte et tesmoignage a sadicte Majeste." Extrait des registres et

croniques du bureau de la ville de Paris, Archives curieuses, vii. 215.

[1028] Mem. de l'estat, _ubi supra_.

[1029] Tocsain contre les massacreurs, Rheims, 1579, p. 140.

[1030] Ibid., _ubi supra_.

[1031] Brantome, Homines illustres francais, M. de Thavannes.

[1032] "Declarant (Alencon) qu'il ne pouvoit approuver vn tel desordre, ny

qu'on rompit si ouvertement la foy promise, qui fut cause que sa mere luy

dit en termes clairs que s'il bougeoit elle le feroit ietter dans vn sac

aual l'eau." Tocsain contre les massacreurs, 141.

[1033] Ib., 133.

[1034] De Thou, iv. 592.

[1035] His son, Jacques Merlin, at a later time pastor at La Rochelle,

although he does not mention the particulars of his father's escape, in

the journal published for the first time by M. Gaberel in an appendix to

the second vol. of his Histoire de l'eglise de Geneve, pp. 153-207,

alludes to it--"fut deliure par une grace de Dieu speciale" (p. 155).

[1036] Memoires de Sully (London, 1748), i. pp. 29, 30.

[1037] Tocsain contre les massacreurs, 131; Mem. de l'estat, _ubi supra_,

142, etc. De Thou, iv. (liv. lii.) 592, 593. Strange to say, Von Botzheim

was so far misinformed, that he makes Charpentier _weep_ for the fate of

Ramus! Archival. Beitraege, p. 117.

[1038] De Thou, iv. (liv. lii.) 596; Memoires de l'estat de France sous

Charles IX. (Cimber et Danjou, vii. 137-142, and in M. Buchon's

biographical notice prefixed to the "Commentaires"). An appreciative

chapter on Pierre de la Place and his works may be read in Victor Bujeaud,

Chronique protestante de l'Angoumois (Angouleme, 1860), 50-66.

[1039] Cahors is over 300 miles in a straight line from Paris, more than

400 miles--153 leagues--by the roads.

[1040] De Thou, iv. (liv. lii.) 594, 595; Agrippa d'Aubigne, Hist. univ.,

ii. 23.

[1041] The incident of Charles IX.'s firing upon the Huguenots has been of

late the subject of much discussion. M. Fournier and M. Mery have denied

the existence, in 1572, of the pavilion at which tradition makes the king

to have stationed himself. See Bulletin de la Soc. de l'hist. du prot.

francais, v. (1857) 332, etc. It has, I think, been conclusively shown

that they are mistaken. The pavilion _was_ in existence. But, besides,

there is no reason why an incident should be deemed apocryphal because of

a popular mistake in assigning the spot of its occurrence. The

"Reveille-Matin" and the Eusebii Philadelphi Dialogi, published in 1574,

are the earliest documents that refer to it. They place Charles at the

window of his own room. So does Brantome, writing considerably later. Jean

de Serres (in the fourth vol. of his Commentaria de statu, etc. (fol. 37),

published in 1575) says: "Regem quoque ex hypaethrio (_i.e._, from a

covered gallery) aiunt, adhibitis, ut solebat, diris contenta voce

conclamare, et tormento etiam ipsum ejaculari." Agrippa d'Aubigne alludes

to it not only in his Histoire universelle (ii. 19, 21), but in his

Tragiques (Bulletin, vii. 185), a poem which he commenced as early as in

1577 (See Bulletin, x. 202). M. Henri Bordier has been so fortunate as to

discover and has reprinted a contemporary engraving of the massacre, in

which Charles is represented as excitedly looking on the slaughter from a

window in the Louvre, while behind him stand two halberdiers and several

noblemen (Bulletin, x. 106, 107). The question is discussed in an able and

exhaustive manner by MM. Fournier, Ludovic Lalanne, Bernard, Berty,

Bordier, and others, in the Bulletin, v. 332-340; vi. 118-126; vii.

182-187; x. 5-11, 105-107, 199-204.

[1042] The Porte de Bussy, or Bucy, was the first gate toward the west on

the southern side of the Seine. During the reign of Francis I. and his

successors of the house of Valois, the walls of Paris were of small

compass. In this quarter their general direction is well marked out by the

Rue Mazarine. The circuit started from the Tour de Nesle, which was nearly

opposite the eastern front of the Louvre--the short Rue de Bussy fixes the

situation of the gate where Guise was delayed. A little west of this is

the abbey church of St. Germain-des-Pres, which gave its name to the

suburb opposite the Louvre and the Tuileries. This quaint pile--the oldest

church, or, indeed, edifice of any kind in Paris--after being built in the

sixth century, and injured by the Normans in the ninth, was rebuilt and

dedicated in 1163 A.D., by Alexander III. in person. On that occasion the

Bishop of Paris was not even permitted by the jealous monks to be present,

on the ground that the abbey of St. Germain-des-Pres was exempt from his

jurisdiction. The pontiff confirmed their position, and his sermon,

instead of being an exposition of the Gospel, was devoted to setting forth

the privileges accorded to the abbey by St. Germain, Bishop of Paris, in

886. Dulaure, Histoire de Paris, ii. 79-84.

[1043] Tocsain contre les massacreurs, 138, 139; Reveille-Matin, 186-188;

Mem. de l'estat, 129-131.

[1044] See Henry White, Massacre of St. Bartholomew, p. 460.

[1045] Valued at from 100,000 to 200,000 crowns, Reveille-Matin, 190; Mem.

de l'estat, 151. The interesting anonymous letter from Heidelberg, Dec.

22, 1573, published first by the Marquis de Noailles in his "Henri de

Valois et la Pologne en 1572" (Paris, 1867), iii. 533, from the MSS. of

Prince Czartoryski, alludes to the costly jewels which Henry, now

king-elect of Poland, made to the elector palatine, his host, and remarks:

"Fortasse magna haec fuisse videbitur liberalitas et rege digna, at parva

certe vel nulla potius fuit, si vel sumptibus quos illustrissimus noster

princeps in deducendo et excipiendo hoc hospite sustinuit conferamus, vel

si unde haec dona sint profecta expendamus. Ipse siquidem rex (Henry) ne

teruncium pro iis solvisse, sed ex taberna cujusdam praedivitis aurifabri

Parisiensis, quam scelerati sui ministri in strage illa nobilium ut alias

multas diripuerunt, accepisse ea fertur."

[1046] Memoires de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 150. Versailles, which thus

passed into the hands of the family of Marshal Retz--the Gondi family--was

an old castle situated in the midst of an almost unbroken forest. The

Gondi family sold it to Louis XIII., who built a hunting lodge, afterward

transmuted by Louis XIV. into the magnificent palace, which, for more than

a century, was the favorite residence of the most splendid court in

Europe. The mode in which the title was acquired did not augur well for

the justice or the morality which was to reign there. M. L. Lacour has

contributed an animated sketch, "Versailles et les protestants de France,"

to the Bulletin de la Soc. de l'hist. du prot. fr., viii. (1859) 352-367.

[1047] Discours sur les causes de l'execution, _ubi supra_, 249.

[1048] Royal orders of Aug. 25th, Aug. 27th, etc. Order of the Prevot des

marchands, Aug. 30th. Registres du bureau de la ville, Archives curieuses,

vii. 222-230. Euseb. Philadelphi Dialog., i. 45.

[1049] Registres du bureau de la ville, pp. 222, 223.

[1050] Ibid., p. 227.

[1051] "Aucuns malades languissans, ayant ouy ce miracle, se firent porter

audit cymetiere pour veoir laditte espine; lesquelz, estans la avec ferme

foy, firent leur priere a Dieu en l'honneur de nostre dame la vierge Marie

et devant son ymage qui est en laditte chapelle, pour recouvrer leur

sante, et, apres leur oraison faicte, s'en retournerent en leurs maisons

sains et guaris de leur maladie, chose tres-veritable et bien approuvee."

Mem. de Claude Haton, ii. 682.

[1052] Ibid., _ubi supra_; Tocsain contre les massacreurs, 146;

Reveille-Matin, 193, 194; Mem. de l'estat, 155; Jean de Serres, iv., fol.

41; De Thou, iv. (liv. lii.) 596.

[1053] Dr. White (Massacre of St. Bartholomew, 459) has tabulated the

estimates, nine in number, afforded by twenty-one distinct authorities.

The lowest estimate--1,000 victims--is that of the Abbe Caveyrac, whose

undisguised aim was to place the number as low as possible, so as to

palliate the atrocity of the massacre. Being based apparently upon the

number of the _names_ of victims that have been recorded, it may be

dismissed as unworthy of consideration. The highest estimate, of 10,000,

though adopted by such writers as the authors of the Reveille-Matin and

the Memoires de l'estat de France, is vague or excessive. The Tocsain and

Agrippa d'Aubigne are, perhaps, too moderate in respectively stating the

number as 2,000 and 3,000. On the whole, it appears to me, the

contribution of Paris to the massacre of the Huguenots may be set down

with the greatest probability at between 4,000 and 5,000 persons of all

ages and conditions. Von Botzheim, who estimates the total at 8,000 (F. W.

Ebeling, Archivalische Beitraege, p. 120), makes 500 of these to be women

(Ibid., p. 119).

[1054] In other letters Charles had even the effrontery to represent the

King of Navarre as having been in like danger with his brothers and

himself. See Eusebii Philadelphi Dialog. (1574), i. 45: "se quidem metu

propriae salutis in arcem Luparam (the Louvre) compulsum illic se

continuisse, una cum fratre charissimo Rege Navarrae, et dilectissimo

Principe Condensi, ut in communi periculo eundem fortunae exitum

experirentur!"

[1055] Correspondance du roi Charles IX. et du sieur de Mandelot, 39-41.

Letter to the Governor of Burgundy, _apud_ Mem. de l'estat, _ubi sup._,

133-135.

[1056] It was undoubtedly with the object of showing that they were not

the prime movers in the massacre, or, as the author of the Mem. de l'estat

expresses himself, that they had no particular quarrel save with Admiral

Coligny, that Henry of Guise and his uncle actually rescued a few

Huguenots from the hands of those who were about to put them to death.

Reveille-Matin, 188; Memoires de l'estat, 150.

[1057] Mem. de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 154, from Reveille-Matin, 192; De

Thou, iv. (liv. lii.) 597, 598; Euseb. Philad. Dial., i. 47.

[1058] It was while Charles was on his way to the Palais de Justice that a

gentleman in his train, and not far from him, was recognized as being a

Protestant, and was killed. The king, hearing the disturbance, turned

around; but, on being informed that it was a Huguenot whom they were

putting to death, lightly said: "Let us go on. Would to God that he were

the last!" Reveille-Matin, 194 (copied in Mem. de l'estat, 157); Euseb.

Philad. Dial., i. 50.

[1059] De Thou, whom I have chiefly followed, iv. (liv. lii.) 599; Tocsain

contre les massacreurs, 142; Reveille-Matin, 193, 194; Euseb. Phil. Dial.,

i. 49; Mem. de l'estat, 156; Jean de Serres (1575), iv., fol. 43;

Capilupi, 45; Relation of Olaegui, secretary of Don Diego de Cuniga,

Spanish ambassador at Paris, to be laid before Philip II., Simancas MSS.,

_apud_ Bulletins de l'Acad. Roy. des Sciences, etc., de Belgique, vol.

xvi. (1849) 254.

[1060] De Thou, Tocsain, etc., _ubi supra_.

[1061] Returning to the unpleasant theme in a subsequent book of his noble

history (iv. (liv. liii.) 644), Jacques Auguste de Thou remarks, with an

integrity which cannot swerve even out of consideration for filial

respect: "Ce qu'il y avoit de deplorable, etoit de voir des personnes

respectables par leur piete, leur science, et leur integrite, revetues des

premieres charges du Royaume, ennemies d'ailleurs de tout deguisement et

de tout artifice, tels que Morvilliers, de Thou, Pibrac, Montluc et

Bellievre, louer contre leurs sentimens, ou excuser par complaisance une

action qu'ils detestoient dans le coeur, sans y etre engages par aucun

motif de crainte ou d'esperance; mais dans la fausse persuasion ou ils

etoient que les circonstances presentes et le bien de l'Etat demandoient

qu'ils tinssent ce langage."

[1062] The case stands much worse if we accept the statement of the author

of the Memoires de l'estat de France sous Charles IX., who, after

contrasting the honorable conduct of President La Vaquerie, in the time of

Louis XI., with that of Christopher de Thou, adds: "Mais cestui-ci n'avoit

garde de faire le semblable; il prend trop de plaisir a toute sorte

d'injustice pour s'y vouloir opposer." (_Ubi supra_, pp. 156, 157.) So,

also, Euseb. Philad. Dial., i. 50: "Nam quomodo sese injustitiae viriliter

opponeret, qui ex ea tam uberes fructus colligit?" The Mem. de l'estat

accuse him of having instigated the murder of Rouillard--a counsellor of

parliament and canon of Notre Dame, and one of a very few Roman Catholics

that were assassinated--because the latter loved justice, and had

prosecuted one of the first president's friends (p. 148). According to the

historian De Thou, on the other hand (iv. 593), Rouillard was "homme

inquiet, querelleux, et ennemi des officiers des compagnies de ville."

[1063] The passage is not in the will in the admiral's own handwriting,

dated Archiac, June 5, 1569, a facsimile of which has been accurately

lithographed by the French Protestant Historical Society, and which has

also been printed in the Bulletin, i. (1852) 263-268. See _ante_, p. 461,

462.

[1064] Memoires de l'estat, _ubi supra_, 153; Gasparis Colinii Vita

(1575), 131.

[1065] "The said discourse was all written with his own hand." Walsingham

to Smith, Sept. 14, 1572; Digges, 241, 242; Mem. de l'estat, _ubi supra_,

153; Gasparis Colinii Vita, 131, 132.

[1066] Jean de Serres (1575), iv., fols. 57, 58; Eusebii Philadelphi Dial.

(1574), i. 82, 83; Reveille-Matin, 203-205; De Thou, iv. (liv. liii.) 645,

646. For many years the disgraceful commemorative procession was

faithfully observed.

[1067] The slight eminence of Montfaucon, the Tyburn of Paris, was between

the Faubourg St. Martin and the Faubourg du Temple, near the site of the

Hopital St. Louis. See Dulaure, Atlas de Paris.

[1068] "Il les en reprit et leur dist: 'Je ne bousche comme vous autres,

car l'odeur de son ennemy est tres-bonne'--odeur certes point bonne et la

parolle aussi mauvaise." Brantome, Le Roy Charles IX., edit. Lalanne, v.

258. The original authority for this odious remark is Papyrius Masson

(1575) in his life of Charles IX., which Brantome had under his eyes:

"Servis foetorem non ferentibus, hostis mortui odor bonus est inquit." Le

Laboureur, iii. 16.

[1069] Le deluge des Huguenots avec leur Tumbeau, 1572. Reprinted in

Archives curieuses, vii. 251-259.

[1070] Tocsain contre les massacreurs, Rheims, 1579, p. 143. It has been

well remarked by a writer in the Bulletin de la Soc. de l'hist. du prot.

francais (iii. 346) as one of the paradoxes of history, that Coligny's

mangled remains, "after being carefully subjected to the most ignominious

treatment, were saved from the annihilation to which they appeared to be

infallibly condemned, and have been transmitted from place to place, and

from hand to hand, until our own days, and better preserved for three

centuries than many other illustrious corpses carefully laid up in costly

mausoleums!" Marshal Montmorency placed the admiral's body in a lead

coffin in his castle of Chantilly, whence he sent it to Montauban.

Francois de Coligny brought it back to Chatillon-sur-Loing, when, in 1599,

the sentence of parliament was formally rescinded. In 1786 it was taken to

Maupertuis and placed in a black marble sarcophagus. Since 1851 it has

been resting in its new tomb under the ruins of that part of the castle of

Chatillon where Coligny was probably born. Bulletin, iii. 346-351.

[1071] Tocsain contre les Massacreurs, 146; Reveille-Matin, 195; Euseb.

Philadelphi Dial., i. 51; Mem. de l'estat, 161; Jean de Serres, iv., fol.

44 _verso_.

[1072] The text of the declaration is to be found in the Memoires de

Claude Haton, ii. 683-685, in the Recueil des anciennes lois francaises

(Isambert), xiv. 257, etc., and in the Memoires de l'estat, _ubi supra_,

162-164. See De Thou, iv. (liv. lii.) 600. The Reveille-Matin calls

attention (p. 196) to the circumstance that in the first copies of the

document the name of Navarre did not occur; but that in the next issue the

admiral's unhappy and detestable conspiracy was represented as directed

against "la personne dudit sieur roy et contre son estat, la royne sa

mere, messieurs ses freres, _le roy de Navarre_, princes et seigneurs

estans pres d'eulx." The policy of introducing Navarre, and, by

implication, Conde, among the proposed victims of the Huguenots, was

certainly sufficiently bold and reckless. See _ante_, p. 490.

[1073] See De Thou, iv. (liv. liii.), 630; Jean de Serres, iv., fols. 53,

54.

[1074] Euseb. Philadelphi Dial., i. 52.

[1075] Digges, 239, 240.

[1076] Ibid., 245

[1077] Documents historiques inedits, i. 713-715.

[1078] Agrippa d'Aubigne, Hist. univ., ii. 30; Jean de Serres (1575), iv.,

fol. 55.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE MASSACRE IN THE PROVINCES, AND THE RECEPTION OF THE TIDINGS ABROAD.

[Sidenote: The massacre in the provinces.]

The massacre of St. Bartholomew's Day would have been terrible enough had

it been confined to Paris, for its victims in that single city were to be

reckoned by thousands. Charles the Ninth himself, on the third day,

admitted in a letter to Mondoucet, his envoy in the Netherlands, that "a

very great number of the adherents of the new religion who were in this

city had been massacred and cut to pieces."[1079] But this was little in

comparison with the multitudes that were yet to lose their lives in other

parts of France. Here, however, the enterprise assumed a different

character. Not only did it not commence on the same day as in the capital,

but it began at different dates in different places. It is evident that

there had been no well-concerted plan long entertained and freely

communicated to the governors of the provinces and cities. On the

contrary, the greatest variety of procedure prevailed--all tending,

nevertheless, to the same end of the total destruction of the Protestants.

And this was intended from the very moment the project of the Parisian

butchery was hastily and inconsiderately adopted by the king. Charles

meant to be as good as his word when he announced his determination that

not a single Huguenot should survive to reproach him with what he had

done. More frightful than his most passionate outburst of bloodthirsty

frenzy is the cool calculation with which he, or the minister who wrote

the words he subscribed, predicts the chain of successive murders in

provincial France, scarcely one of which had as yet been attempted. "_It

is probable_," he said, in the same letter of the twenty-sixth of August,

that has just been cited, "_that the fire thus kindled will go coursing

through all the cities of my kingdom_, which, following the example of

what has been done in this city, will assure themselves of all the

adherents of the said religion."[1080]

[Sidenote: Verbal orders.]

No mere surmise, founded upon the probable effects of the exhibition of

cruelty in Paris, led to the penning of this sentence. Charles had

purposely fired the train which was to explode with the utmost violence at

almost every point of his wide dominions. "As it has pleased God," he

wrote to Mondoucet, "to bring matters to the state in which they now are,

I do not intend to neglect the opportunity not only to re-establish, if I

shall be able, lasting quietness in my kingdom, but also to serve

Christendom."[1081] Accordingly, secret orders, for the most part verbal,

had already been sent in all directions, commanding the provinces to

imitate the example set by Paris. The reality of these orders does not

rest upon conjecture, but is attested by documentary evidence over the

king's own hand. As we have seen in the last chapter, Charles published,

on the twenty-eighth of August, a declaration of his motives and

intentions. This was despatched to the governors of the provinces and to

other high officers, in company with a circular letter, of which the final

sentence deserves particular notice. "Moreover," says the king, "whatever

verbal command I may have given to those whom I sent to you, as well as to

my other governors and lieutenants-general, at a time when I had just

reason to fear some inauspicious events, from having discovered the

conspiracy which the admiral was making against me, I have revoked and

revoke it completely, intending that nothing therein contained be put into

execution by you or by others; for such is my pleasure."[1082]

[Sidenote: Instructions to Montsoreau at Saumur.]

What was the import of these orders? The manuscripts in the archives of

Angers seem to leave no room for doubt. This city was the capital of the

Duchy of Anjou, given in appanage to Henry, the king's brother, and was,

consequently, under his special government. On Tuesday, the twenty-sixth

of August, the duke sent to the Governor of Saumur a short note running

thus: "Monsieur de Montsoreau, I have instructed the sieur de Puigaillard

to write to you respecting a matter that concerns the service of the king,

my lord and brother, as well as my own. You will, therefore, not fail to

believe and to do whatever he may tell you, just as if it were I myself."

In the same package with these credentials Montsoreau[1083] received a

letter from Puigaillard, like himself a knight of the royal order of St.

Michael, which reveals only too clearly the purpose of the king and his

Brother. "Monsieur mon compagnon, I will not fail to acquaint you with the

fact that, on Sunday morning the king caused a very great execution to be

made against the Huguenots; so much so that the admiral and all the

Huguenots that were in this city were killed. And his Majesty's will is

that the same be done wherever there are any to be found. Accordingly, if

you desire ever to do a service that may be agreeable to the king and to

Monsieur (the Duke of Anjou), you must go to Saumur with the greatest

possible number of your friends, and put to death all that you can find

there of the principal Huguenots.... Having made this execution at Saumur,

I beg you to go to Angers and do the same, with the assistance of the

captain of the castle. And you must not expect to receive any other

command from the king, nor from Monseigneur, for they will send you none,

inasmuch as they depend upon what I write you. You must use diligence in

this affair, and lose as little time as possible. I am very sorry that I

cannot be there to help you in putting this into execution."[1084]

[Sidenote: Two kinds of letters.]

The statement of the author of the Memoires de l'estat de France is,

therefore, in full agreement with the ascertained facts of the case. He

informs us that, soon after the Parisian massacre commenced, the secret

council by which the plan had been drawn up despatched two widely

differing kinds of letters. The first were of a private character, and

were addressed to governors of cities and to seditious Roman Catholics

where there were many Protestants, by which they were instigated to murder

and rapine;[1085] the others were public, and were addressed to the same

functionaries, their object being to amuse and entrap the professors of

the reformed faith. And in addition to the double sets of written

instructions, the same author says that messengers were sent to various

points, to give orders for special executions.[1086] We shall not find it

very difficult to account for the rapidity with which the massacre spread

to the provincial towns--of which the secretary of the Spanish ambassador,

in his hurried journey from Paris to Madrid, was an eye-witness[1087]--if

we bear in mind the previous ripeness of the lowest classes of the Roman

Catholic population for the perpetration of any possible acts of insult

and injury toward their Protestant fellow-citizens. The time had come for

the seed sown broadcast by monk and priest in Lenten and Advent discourses

to bear its legitimate harvest in the pitiless murder of heretics.

[Sidenote: The massacre at Meaux.]

Meaux was naturally one of the first of smaller cities to catch the

contagion from the capital. Not only was it the nearest city that

contained any considerable body of Huguenots, but, if we may credit the

report current among them, Catharine, in virtue of her rank as Countess of

Meaux, had placed it first upon the roll. It is not impossible that the

circumstance that this was the cradle of Protestantism in France may have

secured it this distinction. About the middle of Sunday afternoon a

courier reached Meaux, and at once made his way to the residence of the

procureur-du-roi, one Cosset. The nature of the message he bore may be

inferred from the fact that secret orders were at once given to those

persons upon whom Cosset thought that he could rely, to be in readiness

about nightfall. So completely had every outlet from Paris been sealed,

that it had proved almost impossible for a Protestant to find the means of

escaping to carry the tidings abroad. Consequently the adherents of the

reformed faith were yet in ignorance of the impending catastrophe. At the

time appointed, Cosset and his followers seized the gates of Meaux. It was

the hour when the peaceable and unsuspecting people were at supper. The

Protestants could now easily be found, and few escaped arrest, either that

evening or on the succeeding day. Happily, however, a large number of

Huguenots resided in a quarter of Meaux known as the "Grand Marche," and

separated from the main part of the town by the river Marne. The

inhabitants of the Grand Marche received timely warning of their danger;

and the men fled by night for temporary refuge to the neighboring

villages. It was scarcely dawn on Monday morning when the work of plunder

begun. By eight o'clock little was left of the goods of the Huguenots on

this side of the Marne, and the pillagers crossed the bridge to the Grand

Marche. Finding only the women, who had remained in the vain hope of

saving their family possessions, the papists wreaked their fury upon them.

About twenty-five of these unhappy persons were murdered in cold

blood;[1088] others were so severely beaten that they died within a few

days; a few were shamefully dishonored. In most cases, if not in all,

outward acquiescence in the ceremonies of the Roman Catholic Church would

have saved the lives of the victims, but the Huguenot women were constant

and would yield no hypocritical consent. One poor woman, the wife of

"Nicholas the cap-maker," was being dragged to mass, when her bold and

impolitic expressions of detestation of the service so enraged her

conductors, that, being at that moment upon the bridge which unites the

two portions of the city, they stabbed her and threw her body into the

river. In a short time the Grand Marche, which the precise chronicler

tells us contained more than four hundred houses, was robbed of everything

which could be removed, for not the most insignificant article escaped the

cupidity of the Roman Catholic populace.[1089]

These were but the preliminaries of the general massacre. The prisons were

full of Huguenots, whom it was necessary to put out of the way. Late in

the day, on Tuesday the twenty-sixth, Cosset and his band made their

appearance. They were provided with a list of their destined victims, more

than two hundred in number. Of a score or two the names have been

preserved, with their respective avocations. They were merchants, judicial

officers, industrious artisans--in short, the representatives of the

better class of the population of Meaux. Not one escaped. The murderous

band were stationed in the courtyard of the prison, while Cosset, armed

with a pistol in either hand, mounted the steps, and by his roll summoned

the Protestants to the slaughter awaiting them below. The bloody work was

long and tedious. The assassins adjourned awhile for their supper, and,

unable to complete the task before weariness blunted the edge of their

ferocity, reserved a part of the Protestants for the next day. None the

less was the task accomplished with thoroughness, and the exultant

cutthroats now had leisure to pursue the fugitives of the Grand Marche to

the villages in which they had taken refuge.[1090]

[Sidenote: The massacre at Troyes.]

The news of the Parisian massacre reached Troyes, the flourishing capital

of Champagne, on Tuesday, the twenty-sixth of August, and spread great

alarm among the Protestants, who, with the recent disturbances[1091] still

fresh in their memories, apprehended immediate death. But their enemies

for the time confined themselves to closing the gates to prevent their

escape. It was not until Saturday, the thirtieth, that the "bailli," Anne

de Vaudrey, sieur de St. Phalle, sent throughout the city and brought all

the Protestants to the prisons. Meantime one of the most turbulent of the

Roman Catholics, named Pierre Belin, had been in Paris, having been

deputed, some weeks before, to endeavor to procure the removal of the

place of worship of the reformed from the castle of Isle-au-Mont, two or

three leagues from the city, to some more distant and inconvenient spot.

He remained in the capital until the Saturday after the massacre, and

started that day for Troyes, with a copy of the declaration of Thursday

forbidding injury to the persons and goods of unoffending Protestants, and

ordering the release of any that might have been imprisoned. It was

believed, indeed, that he was commissioned to give the declaration to the

bailli for publication. On Wednesday, the third of September, he reached

Troyes. As he rode through the streets, he inquired again and again

whether the Huguenots at Troyes were all killed as they were elsewhere.

When interrogated by peaceable Roman Catholics respecting a rumor that

the king had revoked his sanguinary orders, he boldly denied its truth,

accompanying his words with oaths and imprecations. Finding the bailli, he

had no difficulty in persuading him to suppress the royal order, and to

convene a council, at which Belin was introduced as the bearer of verbal

instructions, and a bishop was brought forward to confirm them. Belin and

the bishop maintained that the royal pleasure was that the heretics of

Troyes should all be murdered on the following Saturday night, without

distinction of rank, sex, or age, and their bodies be exposed in the

streets to the sight of those who should on the morrow join in a solemn

procession to be held in honor of the achievement. A writing attached to

the neck of each was to contain the words: "Seditious persons and rebels

against the king, who have conspired against his Majesty."

The task of butchering the helpless Huguenots in the prison was first

proposed to the public hangman. He refused to take any part in it: this,

he said, was no duty of his office, and he would consent to perform it

only when all the forms of law should have been observed. Other persons

were found more pliable, and, under the leadership of one Perremet, the

bloody scenes of the prison of Meaux were re-enacted, on Thursday, the

fourth day of September, in that of Troyes. How many were the victims we

know not; we have, however, the names of over thirty, apparently the most

prominent of the number. Others were assassinated in the streets. At last,

when all had been done that malice could effect, the king's declaration,

which promised protection to the Huguenots, was published on Friday, the

fifth of September.[1092]

[Sidenote: The great bloodshed at Orleans.]

In Orleans, a city once the headquarters of the Huguenots, where their

iconoclastic assaults upon the churches during the first civil war had

left permanent memorials of their former supremacy, the massacre assumed

the largest proportions. One of the king's court preachers, Arnauld

Sorbin, better known as M. de Sainte Foy, had written from Paris letters

instigating the inhabitants of Orleans to imitate the example of the

capital, and the letters came to hand with the earliest tidings of the

Parisian massacre. The first murder took place on Monday. M. de Champeaux,

a royal counsellor and a Protestant, who as yet was in ignorance of the

events of St. Bartholomew's Day, received late on Monday the visit of

Tessier, surnamed La Court, the leader of the assassins of Orleans, and

some of his followers. Imagining it to be a friendly call--for they were

acquaintances--Champeaux received them courteously, and invited them to

sup with him. The meal over, his guests recounted the story of the tragic

occurrence at Paris, and, before he was well over his surprise and horror,

asked him for his purse. The unhappy host, still mistaking the character

of those whom he had entertained, at first regarded the demand as a

pleasantry; but when he had been convinced of his error and had complied,

his treacherous visitors instantly stabbed him to death in his very

dining-room.[1093] The general butchery began on Tuesday night, in the

neighborhood of the ramparts, where the Protestants were most numerous,

and from Wednesday to Saturday there was no intermission in the slaughter.

Here, more even than elsewhere, the murderers distinguished themselves by

their profanity and their undisguised hatred of the Protestant faith and

worship. "Where is your God?" "Where are your prayers and your psalms?"

"Where is the God they invoke so much? Let Him save, if He can." Such were

the expressions with which the blows of the assassin were interlarded. At

times he thought to aggravate his victim's sufferings by singing snatches

of favorite psalms from the Huguenot psalm-book. It might be the

forty-third, so appropriate to the condition of oppressed innocence, in

its quaint old French garb:

Revenge-moi, pren la querelle

De moi, Seigneur, de ta merci,

Contre la gent fausse et cruelle:

De l'homme rempli de cautelle,

Et en sa malice endurci,

Delivre moi aussi.

Or it might be the fifty-first--the words never more sincerely accepted,

even when chanted to all the perfection of choral music, in the Sistine

Chapel or in St. Peter's, than when, in the ears of constant sufferers for

their Christian faith, ribald voices contemptuously sang or drawled the

familiar lines:

Misericorde au povre vicieux,

Dieu tout-puissant, selon ta grand' clemence.[1094]

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