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 ADMIME tlOLlGNY 
 
 
 ^''^h^ 
 
 RISE OF THE HUGUENOTS. 
 
 Rev. WM. M. BLACKBURN, 
 
 PROPEBSOR of llIBLICAL AND KCCLESIASTICAI. HiSTORT IN THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 OF THE North-west, 
 
 AND At'THOR OF 
 
 "William Farel," "Ulrich Zwinoli," " Vousa Calvin in Paris," &c. 
 
 Vol. I. 
 
 -PT 
 
 r 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 PRESBYTERIAN BOAED OF PURLIC.\TION, 
 
 821 CHESTNUT STREET.
 
 Eutered according to Act of CongresB, in the year 1869, by 
 
 THE TRUSTEES OF THE 
 
 PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Conrt of the United States for the Eastern 
 
 District of Pennsylvania. 
 
 Westcott t Thoksoit, 
 
 &TEREOTyPEBJB, PKILADA.
 
 EX 
 
 1)2 
 
 C6l352> 
 V.j 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A RISING GENERATION. 
 
 PAQB 
 
 The Reform needs two New Elements — The Colignys and Mont- 
 raorencies — Marot and the Psalms — The Guises — A Suppressed 
 Calvinism 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 PROMOTIONS AND PROJECTS. 
 
 A Change on the Throne — Coligny's new Military Code — Andelot 
 in Prison; reads Calvin's Writings — When free avows the 
 Reform 46 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FROM CAMP TO PRISON. 
 
 St. Quentin Lost, but France Saved — Coligny's Captivity one 
 
 Means of his Conversion 68 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A BOLDER PROTESTANTISM. 
 
 Its Organization — First Reformed Church in Paris — Pastor de 
 Launay — Riots — Great Psalm-singing — Andelot Arrested for 
 his Faith 85 
 
 V>/^/3 ^
 
 4 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 COURAGE IN HIOH PLACES. 
 
 PAOS 
 
 Coligny and Calvin — Charlotte Laval — Model of Household Wor- 
 ship — Chandieu — First National Synod — A Fierce Parliament 
 — Du Bourg in Prison 110 
 
 \ CHAPTER Vr. 
 
 THE GUISES IN POWER. 
 
 William of Orange Hears of a Plot — The Political and the Religious 
 
 Protestants — Du Bourg Executed— Persecutions 133 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A CHIEFTAIN WANTED. 
 
 Prince of Conde — His Party hold Assemblies — Coligny Opposes 
 War — Guisean Tyranny — The Conspiracy of Amboise — Noble 
 Victims — The Reform in Peril 154 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE TWO GREAT PARTIES. 
 
 The Name Huguenot — Chancellor de I'Hopital — Coligny's Petition 
 for the Normans — Conde Entrapped — A King Dies — The Guises 
 Fall 184 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A CONGRESS AND A COLLOQUY. 
 
 The one at Orleans; the other at Poissy — The Triumvirate — Theo- 
 dore Beza — Peter Ramus 222 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE WILES OF THE COURT. 
 
 Character and Number of the Reformed — Great Meetings — Riots — 
 
 Jesuits — Defection of Antony of Navarre — Massacre of Vassy. 257
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE UPRISING OF THE HlGUEyOTS. 
 
 PAOE 
 
 The Period of Resistance Opens — Coligny Aroused — First Civil 
 
 War — Many Towns held by tiie Huguenots — Parleys — Violence 286 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THUOIGH WAR TO PEATE. 
 
 Siege of Rouen — Battle of Dreux — Papal Te Deums — The Admiral's 
 March to Havre — Poltrot Assassinates Guise — Was Coligny in 
 the Plot? — His Exoneration — Peace through Kingcraft 324 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 VNDER A CLOUD. 
 
 Three Movements: one to Ruin Coligny, another to Tempt Cond4, 
 and a third to Recover Havre— Coligny at Home — Protestant 
 
 Preaching Suppressed at Court — Madame Reu^e 356 
 
 1*
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 This work is something more tlian a biography : the reader 
 may find it nothing less than a history. It may be both, and still 
 preserve the unity of design and of method. (^ In general, the 
 acts of a people are but the deeds of its representative men. 
 This is especially true of the Huguenots during the periods 
 herein treated. Amid the distractions of i)ersecution and war 
 they did not — they could not — act so much in a body, or as a Re- 
 formed ('hurch, as through their leaders. Their representatives 
 made for them their history. To form a correct idea of that pe- 
 culiar people, to whom a distinctive character has always been 
 attributed, it is not necessary to portray the life of everj' earnest 
 actor nor the development of every particular Church. This 
 would give us too much sameness. So of the various persecu- 
 tions : there is a horrible monotony of details in them all. The 
 trial and execution of one martyr are quite like those of another; 
 therefore martyrologies grow tedious. The butchery in one vil- 
 lage is frightfully similar to that in another. Hence the history 
 must be eclectic. It may be seen in the record of a few lives, a 
 few churches, a few persecutions. Even their enemies act mo- 
 notonously ; their frequent edicts run in almost the same mould ; 
 they constantly repeat their deeds of violence. jMy aim has 
 been to select what is representative, or give fair specimens of 
 life and endurance. 
 
 \ One man occupies the central position. Upon Admiral Colig- 
 iiy'almost the entire history hangs. ' He is a sort of personifi-
 
 8 PREFA(E. 
 
 cation of Huguenotisni, wliicli, :it oik; time, was in danger of 
 being a Protestant chivalry — a religion in the hands of warrior?.,' 
 Himself a nobleman, he greatly helped to turn it from the path 
 of the whirlwind. Yet the Reform was in need of noble patron- 
 age, and he and his brothers represented the young nobility which 
 was led out of moderate Romanism into an earnest Protestant- 
 ism. They were the first powerful chiefs to adopt the Reform. 
 They set the example to hundreds of others. Coligny is the em- 
 inent lay chieftain of the trulj* religious Huguenots. He is inti- 
 mately allied to the Prince of Conde and the political Hugue- 
 nots. ( This important distinction has often been too much over- 
 looked. ) He holds a high place in the state, in the Reformed 
 Church and in the Huguenot army. He links the Protestants 
 to the king and the court. ' There are certain foreign influences 
 which greatly affect his people, and to these I have given no more 
 than due attention ; in these he is the conspicuous leader against 
 whom the pope and Philip II. take their deadly aim when they 
 dictate extermination; He and the Prince of Orange grasp 
 hands and for a time keep the whole papal forces at bay. Upon 
 him, in a great degree, the St. Bartholomew massacre turns, 
 and he is the first and prominent victim of that awful day. '' He 
 is, then, the chief historical character of that age in France! 
 
 His family ties gave him a peculiar position. By birth and 
 marriages he was allied to the ruling houses of France, closely to 
 the Montmorencies and the Bourbons, and, through them, more 
 distantly, to the Guises, the D'Albrets, and even the royal house 
 of Yalois. His wife, Charlotte Laval, a more than representa- 
 tive woman, allied him to several other noble families. All this 
 had some importance in the time of a decaying feudalism. Be- 
 yond this, he was more fully in correspondence with Calvin than 
 any other of the French nobles. Upon no man in France ( ex- 
 cept Beza when he was there) did Calvin so much depend, and 
 the reliance was mutual. ' Not to recognize the great influence 
 of the Genevan Reformer in the history of the Huguenots is to 
 treat the subject with a partiality inexcusable. While seeking to 
 throw additional light upon this point, I may still say that my
 
 PREFACE. » 
 
 limits did not allow me to do full justice to the subject. But tlie 
 iuquirer maj' satisfy himself by going to the source which 1 have 
 found so replete in historical matter — Calvin's Letters, Pre^sby- 
 terian Board of Publication. It is hoped that the present work 
 may serve as an exponent of the many letters which relate to 
 France. 
 
 Before the reader are brought three periods of the French 
 Reformation: 1st. That of Repression (1512-1555), when the 
 vain attempt was made to reform the Papal Church. There was 
 little open preaching, but the i)salm-singing was tremendous, and 
 there were hosts of secret believers in the gospel. 2d. That of 
 Organization ( 1555-1562). The history of the first Presbyterian 
 Chuich in Paris and the account of the first national synod have 
 received a special treatment which may be interesting. The 
 rapid growth of churches in seven years must appear astonish- 
 ing. It refers us to the introduction of two new agencies — that 
 of a ministry and that of a Reformed nobility to sustain the mis- 
 sionary labours. To these is mainly due the rise of the Hugue- 
 nots as a religious body. The increase of churches was severely 
 checked in the year 1502, and many organizations were destroj'ed. 
 3d. That of Resistance ( 1562 to the edict of Nantes, 1598). It 
 is the period of the civil wars, but the present work closes with 
 the St. Bartholomew massacre { 1572), after which an almo.st en- 
 tirely new class of men appear as the representatives of Protest- 
 antism in France. Even that terrible event did not cause the 
 " fall" of the Huguenots. It was a shock from which they re- 
 covered. It tended to purify them from politics and lead them 
 nearer to God. Even by means of it they rose to a nobler spir- 
 itual height. 
 
 That a historian may express his own opinions upon disjmted 
 points has been taken for granted by several writers who have 
 assured us of their impartiality, and have impeached the Hugue- 
 nots before the world as if it were the Calvinistic type of the 
 Reform that caused the troubles in France, and not the Reform 
 itself Perhai)s one n)ay venture to answer the impeachmout 
 and still not be partial nor guilty of prejudice. "When the Hu-
 
 10 PREFACE. 
 
 guenots are cliartrcd witli a want of satisfactorj' ])olicj', it should 
 be remembered that they were struggling for conscientious prin- 
 ciples. We do not claim that thej' were free from all rude pro- 
 ceedings. AVe admit certain deeds of violence and rough retali- 
 ation.'} We go farther — we state them. And farther still, as 
 Calvin and their wisest leaders did, we condemn them. But 
 even here a fair judgment cannot be passed on them without 
 having in mind the trains of events that preceded them. To 
 know whether they were lawless we must know how far there was 
 any just law. Let the facts be stated and the reader thrown 
 upon his own judgment of them. ' If I have given considerable 
 space to certain movements that seem to be political or military, 
 it is because they bore so powerfully upon the religious affairs. 
 By slurring over the one class of events we misunderstand the 
 other. They run on together as they do in such portions of in- 
 spired history as the books of the Kings, Ezra, Esther and 
 Daniel.) 
 
 The 'authorities consulted are — 1st. Extreme Romanists, such 
 as Daniel, Maimbourg, Tavannes, Blaise de Montluc, Davila 
 Pallavicino; 2d. Moderate Romanists, as De Thou (Thuanus), 
 Castelnau, Brantome, Anquetil, Grarnier, Mezeray, Sarpi, La- 
 cratelle, Perau ; 3d. Skeptical, as Bayle and Voltaire ; 4th. Prot- 
 estants, as Beza, D'Aubign6 (Theo. Agrippa), La None, Du- 
 plessis-Mornay, Sully, Cayet Victor Palma, Memoires de Cond6, 
 Benoit, Laval and Puaux. The Massacre of St. Bartholomew, 
 by Henry White, London, 1868, came fresh to me while revising 
 my manuscripts for the last time. Other works consulted are 
 named in the references, and j'et my researches have extended to 
 many volumes more, among which are those rich French collec- 
 tions entitled " Memoires relatifs ii THistoire," and "Documents 
 surl'Histoire de France." So far as pos.sible I have consulted 
 the contemporary writers. 
 
 No biography of Admiral Coligny, originally written in Eng- 
 lish, has come to my knowledge. The tran.slations have been 
 small books. My long search was rewarded by obtaining the 
 Gasparis Colinii Castellonii, Magni Quondam Franciae Amiralii,
 
 PREFACE. 11 
 
 Vita, MDLXXV.,* written so soon after the great massacre that 
 the names of the author, the press and place of publication were 
 prudently omitted. The author, doubtless, was Cornaton, a 
 gentleman of Coligny's suite, and an eyewitness of much that 
 he relates. My copy is evidently one of the first edition. So 
 rare is the little book that I do not find any modern writer nam- 
 ing it. Before obtaining it I had the "Life" which appears in 
 Clarke's Martyrology (1770), the "Memoirs of Gasjjer de (Jol- 
 ligny" (Edinburgh, 1844), which is a translation of the " 3Ie- 
 moires de Messire Gasper de Colligny . . . il Paris, 1665;" and 
 had consulted " The Lyfc of the most Godly, Valiant and Noble 
 Cajitaine, and Maintener of the trew Christian Kcligion in 
 Fraunce, Jasper Colignie Shatilion .... 1576" (Harleiau 
 Misccllanj'. ) To my surprise I found that all these were only 
 versions of the Vita Colinii. 
 
 The French have been more voluminous on this subject. 
 Brantomc ( Ilommos Illustres) gave more than u.sual space to his 
 personal reminiscences of the Admiral. The fullest early " Vie" 
 was by Gatien do Courtilz de Sandras, lOSl) (my edition 1691). 
 The Abbe Perau devoted two volumes to him in the Hommes 
 Illustres ( 1747), and a Vic de Andelot. As a model for his 
 soui, M. de la Ponneraye published a Histoire de I'Admiral Co- 
 ligni, in 1830. In the Seances de I'Acadt^mie, 1848, are the 
 Souvenirs IIistori(jues sur I'Aniiral de Colign3^ Valuable articles 
 are found in the Dictionnaire Historiquc de IMoreri, Biographic 
 Universelle and La France Protestante, par MM. Haag. 
 Among so many biographers and historians of all beliefs there is 
 a general agreement concerning the lofty character and motives 
 of the admiral. 
 
 It was while searching in Paris for the s]>ot where Coligny was 
 murdered that I fbrniod the pari>oso of which this work is, in 
 part, the expression. Since that day ( 1862), the Huguenots 
 have received more and more attention in popular literature — a 
 proof of an increasing demand among the people. If this work 
 
 * Bought at the sale of the library of the late Win. Jenks, D. D., tho 
 compiler of the Coniijrchensive Curuincutary.
 
 12 PREFACE. 
 
 shall help to supply it, the labours expended will not be in vain. 
 The object is not to rekindle the old fires of animosity or encour- 
 age a party spirit in religion, but to incite the heart to gratitude 
 to God that the day of persecution is past — if indeed it be past 
 — and to lead the people to recount the price of their civil and 
 religious liberty, as well as to renew the spirit of piety exhibited 
 by those who suffered for the gospel. 
 
 W. M. B. 
 
 Chicago, III.
 
 Admiral Coligny. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A ItlSING 61SKEMATION. 
 (1517-1547.) 
 
 IN an outburst of grief Pope Adrian VI. exclaimed, 
 " How much depends on the times in which even the 
 best of men are cast !" The words were engraved upon his 
 monument. If his short three years (1521-'23) in the papal 
 chair had been thirty, there might have been some compro- 
 mise between the old Romanism and the new Protestantism, 
 especially in France. It was possible, despite the intense 
 opposition of all who cried, " Rome must not concede that 
 Khe is in error. Reforms are dangerous." He was anxious 
 to repress abuses. His strong idea was, a reformed Papacy. 
 In France the new idea was, a papalized Reform. On this 
 half-way ground Meaux* and Rome might have struck 
 
 * The light dawned upon Lefevre as early as 1512. He and hia 
 student, William Farel, with the brothers Roussel, were driven out 
 of Paris by the Sorbonne. At Meaux they made the first experiment, 
 in France, of a Reformed Church {15'21-'2.')), but not fully separate 
 from the Roman see. The defection of Bishop Rriyonnet was its ruin. 
 Tiic two cliurches of Montbeliard and Met/ hardly helon^ed to France. 
 They were oi-ganized l)y Fare!. In my " William Farel'' considerable 
 space has been given to tliis period of tlie suppressed Reform in 
 France, 1512-1525. 
 
 Vol. I.— 2 13
 
 14 AD.MIUAI. COLIOXY. 
 
 hands. Death removed tlu; pope. Persecution worse than 
 death scattered the flock gathere<l under Lefevre and Farel 
 — the one the patriarch of the new movement in France, the 
 other the pioneer of the grander work in French Switzer- 
 land. 
 
 Reformers may live to see their policies fail, while their 
 principles are only coming to the full harvest. Lefevre, 
 Roussel and Queen Margaret of Navarre were at the head 
 of a new religious party. They put the earnestness of their 
 lives into the work of translating and circulating the word 
 of God ; preaching the gospel and raising up an host of 
 preachers, whose voices had the clear ring of saving truth ; 
 sending into the pulpits of the old churches men who 
 boldly told the listening crowds how to win eternal life ; 
 comforting martyrs and giving refuge to scores who barely 
 escaped with their lives. It was a very peculiar movement. 
 This band of "gospellers" was fearless for Christ, but 
 afraid of the Cliurch. Its policy was to reform abuses in 
 the Roman Church, but not to depart from that Church. 
 It held to the mass, but sought to engraft the sermon {le 
 preche) — two words on which everything was hanging. 
 The mass was the symbol of Popery; "the preach," of 
 Protestantism. The union was impossible. Rome would 
 not tolerate the Reform. She suppressed the preaching. 
 The crown, the clergy and the Sorbonne waged against this 
 party the terrors of fire and sword. The policy failed in 
 the forenoon of the sixteenth century, but cropped out 
 again in the days of Fenelon and tlie Jansenists. 
 
 Yet the principles did not fail to secure a wonderful 
 result. Those doctrines of true faith, hope and charity ; 
 those Testaments, tracts, poems and hymns cast among the 
 common people, who hid them in their homes and hearts 
 and worshipped the Lord in secret ; those glowing words 
 of priests who were Protestants in regard to Christ, while
 
 A RisiX(; (;i;\j:itATiox. 15 
 
 Koinanist^ on tin- side of tlie Church ; and tliose testimo- 
 nies of martyrs at the stake, — could not be fruitless. Hap- 
 pily for the people in tiieir houses, there was " night there." 
 The darkness was the pavilion of Jehovah. We see in the 
 little meetings of neighbours by night, to read the Scrip- 
 tures and ])ray, a striking feature of the Reform at that 
 period. Believers were multiplied. As a full crop of corn 
 hiis been raised with scarcely a shower of rain upon it, and 
 dependent uj)on the dews, there being a constant stirring 
 of the good soil, so grew up a sturdy race of Huguenots 
 under the nightly dews of grace, while the persecutors did 
 the ploughing in their terrible way. But until the year 
 1555 these Chridaudins were a hidden people. 
 
 Two forces were needed to bring out of tbis dark seclu- 
 sion the Reformed Church of France. One was a class of 
 ministers who would dare to preach openly and organize 
 the Reform ; the other, a class of nobles and chiefs* who 
 would dare to profess the faith, shield the preachers and 
 support the new clmrches. During this period of repression, 
 the converts were almost entirely of the middle classes — 
 the tradesmen, the artists, the thinking jieople, the men of 
 education, lawyers, teachers, physicians were among them. 
 The peasantry, or "the ma.sses," were the last to be reached. 
 Rural tenants were waiting to see what the lords of the soil 
 would do, or for some kind pastor to enter their cottages 
 and tell them the truth. John Calvin was the human 
 agent in sup]>lyiiig the needed ministry. The three 
 brothers of Chatillon became the head of the Reformed 
 nobility and gentry ; of these the chief was Admiral Co- 
 ligny. He is the important link between the Genevan 
 Reformer and the Protestant Church in France, and the 
 
 * Only three or four Reformed nobles ajipe.ir from 1515 to 1555 — ■ 
 Fare], Berqnin, Anemond de (\iet and the Chevalier Ciandet. We do 
 not forget Margaret of Navarre.
 
 ,16 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 correspondence between these two men is one mark of the 
 rise of the Huguenots as a powerful religious body — a 
 body which cannot be understood unless the large influence 
 of Calvin and Coligny be recognized.^ Of the one no spe- 
 cific biography is here required ; of the other a history is 
 essential, for he is the representative man. 
 
 AVe are then to trace the history of a man whose noble 
 deeds justify a glance at his noble birth. He lived in an 
 age when rank was chiefly determined by blood. Prefer- 
 ment was an inheritance. It was possible for the plebeian 
 to rise; the patrician had already been born upon an emi- 
 nence. Nobility gave position, but it proved the severe 
 test of character. Without the advantages of noble an- 
 cestry, Coligny could hardly have reached his point of 
 external greatness ; with them, if not in defiance of them, 
 he attained to a loftier height, establishing his merits upon 
 internal goodness. 
 
 Certain hardy pioneers, who made themselves a home in 
 the deep forests west of Lake Leman, and not far from the 
 ancient battle-field of Julius Csesar and Ariovistus, were 
 named "The Colony." The chief family took the name 
 of Coligny.* The lands were held in the name of the lords 
 of Coligny, who rose to such greatness that they assumed 
 the powers of a sovereign house. The family arms bore a 
 crowned eagle. They coined money, levied taxes, decided 
 upon the life or death of their subjects, and made war with 
 vengeance in the days of chivalry. The ruins of their castle 
 may still be found in Bresse. By little and little they seem 
 to have been reduced by the dukes of Savoy. From Ge- 
 neva, which had muttered threats to keep his forefathers in 
 
 * Vita Colinii. " De Colonia vocabantur ; postea . . . Coliiiii dicti 
 8unt." Old French, "Colognac" in Franche Comt^. "The towns of 
 Nantua and Monlouet, with their dependencies, formed part of tlie 
 family domain."
 
 A RISING (iKNKIlATlOX. ]? 
 
 Jiubjc'etion, was tu come the voice of persuasion that would 
 bring Admiral Coligny into Christian liberty. Passing 
 over " tlie infinite number of great men" who sprang from 
 this family, we tind one Jean de Coligny,* the grandfather 
 of our hero, growing weary of his ancestral home. Not 
 long before Charles the Bold of Burgundy became the 
 terror of France, this John of the Colony removed to his 
 large estates between the valleys of the Loire and Yonne, 
 and there around the ca.stlc walls grew up the straggling 
 town of Chatillon-sur-Loing. Loyal at heart to his French 
 king, he refused to join with the nobles in their oj^positiou 
 to the taxes, their uprising and their bold defiance of Louis 
 XI. at the gates of the capital. When Charles the Bold 
 was sweeping around Paris to capture it, he bravely fought 
 against the rash liege-lord of his fathers, and was one of 
 the valorous cavaliers who claimed the victory at Montlhery, 
 which still is called "the cemetery of the Burgundians." 
 
 His mantle fell upon his son Gaspard, who fought under 
 the banner of Charles VIL, took lessons from the Chevalier 
 Bayard, and saw Burgundy united to France. He shared 
 with his young king in the conquest of Naples, an event 
 which has been made the dividing-point between ancient 
 and modern history. When Naples was lost, he aided his 
 next king, Louis XIL, in the attempt.s upon Milan, a prize 
 not to be won even by the long wars in which the sons of 
 both king and captain were to engage. Francis I. made 
 him grand-marshal, and he was one of the chieftains at the 
 
 * Moreri, Diet. Ili.stoi-iqiie, gives a full Kcnealojry hnck to the tentli 
 century, willi an array of abbots and crnsatkTs. "Their great wealtli 
 enabled them to make many rich religious endowments." In 114G 
 Humbert de Coligny tblluwed Conrad II. to .Jerusalem ; again he went, 
 leading six sons. " The membei-s of this illustrious liouse liad been 
 mixed up witli the great movements of France for nearly five hun- 
 dred years." — Vita Colinii. 
 2 s
 
 18 ADMIRAL C'OIJONY. 
 
 interview witli Jleiiiy VIII. on the "Field of the Ck)th 
 of Gold." 
 
 Gaspard hud proved himself " one of the marvels of his 
 age," when he allied himself to the proudest family of 
 France. No man was greater in his own eyes than Anne 
 de jNIontmorency ; in the eyes of the people none was more 
 worthy of the promotions reserved for him. His sister 
 Louisa was the widow of Frederic de Mailly, one of the 
 first noblemen of Picardy. Among her several children 
 was Madelaine, whom we shall meet as an ornament of the 
 Reformation. Louisa held a high rank at the royal court, 
 and was among the few ladies whose hearts were pure and 
 names free from scandal. In 1514 she became the wife of 
 Gaspard de Coligny. To them were given three sons, Odet, 
 Gaspard and Francis, who were to adorn the family name 
 by their virtues and their heroic services in the cause of 
 truth and liberty. The star of the Reformation, seen by 
 Lefevre, Zwingli and Luther, and shining into his mother's 
 heart, was presiding over the birth of Gaspard, February 
 16, 1517, at Chatillon-sur-Loing. 
 
 It must give delight to a good father to see his own tastes 
 and spirit transmitted to a son. The elder Gaspard soon 
 noted the military tendencies of his filial namesake. With 
 a board of ivory soldiers, drum and little sword, he made 
 the game of war his chief occupation. Before he was five 
 years old he stood with his father and drilled a regiment 
 of men. Greatly pleased with one soldier, he gave him 
 the sword, saying, " I shall reward every one who does well 
 his duty." His father was so pleased that he embraced the 
 child, saying, "Either I am mistaken, or the age will speak 
 of you." To test his courage he was asked to fire one of 
 the cannons. At first he flinched, and the soldiers shouted 
 that he was afraid. "You think me afraid !" he exclaimed. 
 " You shall see." The instant roar proclaimed his courage.
 
 A RISING (ilONKKATlOX. 19 
 
 The senior Ga.sjianl was made ehief-mai*shal of the army, 
 ami he soon ha<l work to call him from home. The Span- 
 iards were attacking one coast and the English the othej*. 
 A great army was laying siege to Fontarabia on the bor- 
 ders of Spain, and the garrison was enduring a famine. 
 The marshal was ordered to lead thither a relieving force 
 with the utmost speed. On the road he overheated himself 
 and was thrown into a malignant fever. At Aqs he found 
 that he must die. He made a will, commending his wife 
 and children to the care of his king and his brother-in-law 
 IMontmorency, and died on the ninth day of his illness. It 
 was the St. Bartholomew of 1522. France lost a valiant 
 general and the king a wise counsellor, for the marshal had 
 "a fine head and a good arm."* 
 
 The grief of the three fatherless lads found some solace 
 in their mother's love and in their affection for each other. 
 AVhoevcr was loved by the one was loved by the other two, 
 and whoever offended one had an affair to settle with the 
 entire three. " They presented a striking example for the 
 youth of our age, for brothers sometimes show more of 
 hatred than of love." Their uncle, faithful to his trust, 
 gave attention to their wants, and they began to learn his 
 character. 
 
 Anne de Montmorency was proud of four things : that 
 Queen Anne had given him her name, that he was de- 
 scended from Pharamond, the first French nobleman who 
 had received baptism, whence the family motto, "God help 
 the first Christian baron," f that he Mas hated by the en- 
 
 * Braiitome, Marslial dc Cliatillon. 
 
 t " Dieu aide an premier Chretien." Add tn tlie p.itornal line the 
 deseent on the mother's sitle from IMiaramond, and (uiif^ny liad a 
 genealogy before which the pretenlions (inises might tnrn pale. The 
 lionour was injportant in that age of decaying fendali*<m, however 
 imaginary the ancestral line. A Montmorency once said to a Basque-
 
 20 ADMIRAL COLIONY. 
 
 vious Guises, and that the king could not well do without 
 him in managing the affairs of government. He had played 
 with Francis I. in his childhood. He was a friend of the 
 king's sister, Margaret, who persuaded her brother to give 
 him the baton of Marshal of France soon after the death 
 of the senior Gaspard Coligny. He might have become a 
 friend to the Protestants if he had not been too great a 
 politician. In war he excelled all his rivals, and he may 
 have taken delight in telling his nephews how his honest 
 father had sent him forth in his youth to break his first 
 lance in Italy, under the renowned Gaston de Foix, with 
 only five hundred francs in his purse, two horses and an 
 outfit of arms, saying to him, " None can know themselves, 
 the Avorld and the realities of life, unless early taught to 
 rough it." He had roughed it in many a severe campaign, 
 acquired wisdom and keen penetration, but had not lost his 
 princely manners, nor his harsh and violent temper, nor his 
 narrow bigotry. 
 
 In the choice of teachers for the two older brothers, 
 Madame de Chatillon showed her .sympathy with the new 
 spirit of Reform. One was Nicolas Berault, professor of 
 law, orator, editor, author, and no mean rival of the most 
 eminent scholars of his age. Erasmus had been his guest 
 at Orleans, and urged him to throw the charms of his tongue 
 into his pen and write eloquent books for the world. The 
 sage remembered the scholar in prefaces and dedications. 
 Berault commented upon some of the Psalms, and his son 
 Francis embraced the Reformed religion, wrote Latin 
 poetry and taught Greek with honour. The other teacher 
 was the old soldier Prunelai, proficient in the social and 
 military accomplishments. 
 
 The mother and uncle intended that Gaspard should be 
 
 Celt, " Do you know that we date a thousand years back ?" The re- 
 joinder was, " We have left off dating."
 
 A RISING GENERATION. 21 
 
 educated for the priesthood and Odct lor a gentleman, a.s 
 he was by birth the heir to the estates. But Gaspard had 
 his mind sot upon a military life. Berault was ordered to 
 persuade him to study for the Church. " If he should 
 enter the priesthood and become a bishop or a cardinal," 
 said Montmorency, " he would make you rich presents and 
 load you with benefices." 
 
 " I am not seeking my own interest, but the good of my 
 scholars," implied Berault, who told Gasj)ard of his uncle's 
 wish, pointing out the advantages of being a cardinal and 
 also the dangers of such a dignity, but advising him to fol- 
 low his inclination. 
 
 " 1 shall not be a cardinal," answered Gaspard ; " and 
 rather than study for that profession, I will not look into 
 another book." It was agreed that Odet sliould study for 
 the Church, giving to his brother the heirship to the estates. 
 Their teacher guided them in the ways of obedience, tem- 
 perance, truth and religion. They firmly believed in the 
 Roman Catholic Church. They were free from the vices so 
 common among the youth of their times. In later years 
 Gaspard " had two things in him that seemed extremely op- 
 posite : a great vivacity of wit and a very slow speech, so that 
 one would have said that he mused upon what he was going 
 to say. The politicians would have it to be a piece of cun- 
 ning, to gain time to observe those with whom he had to do. 
 ... It is much more likely that it was a fault contracted 
 by frequenting with his master, Berault, in whom the same 
 thing was observed."* h>ince Gaspard refused to be a car- 
 dinal, Montmorency asked that a red hat might be given to 
 Odet, who was fond of repose and study. The hat was 
 forthcoming in a ship which was bringing to France the 
 craftiest woman who ever troubled a modern kingdom. 
 
 Catherine de Medici was an orphan of eleven years in a 
 * Bayle, Art. Berault.
 
 22 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 convent when her uncle, Pope ('lenient VII., besieged her 
 native Florence. " Put her in a basket," said the city 
 council, " and hang her over the walls as a target for the 
 enemy's cannon." But she was spared. She had many a 
 narrow escape while tossed from one cloister to another, and 
 she began to think that she must be a nun. Happy for 
 France if she had taken the veil ! At the age of thirteen 
 she was betrothed to Henry, second son of Francis I., the 
 greater union being between the Pope and the French king 
 against the emperor Charles V. Henry was fourteen days 
 older than herself She then seemed an innocent child, 
 wonderfully captivating and betraying none of those en- 
 chantments which proved the subtle poison for destroying 
 heresy. In 1533 a brilliant retinue shared in her pride as 
 she sailed on the Mediterranean, her large eyes sparkling 
 and her voice as clear as a bell when she said, " I'm to be 
 the daughter-in-law of the great king of France." The 
 wedding was celebrated at ISIarseilles, and on " the tragic 
 pair," was pronounced that papal blessing which was to prove 
 the curse upon the French nation. 
 
 The overjoyed pope showed his gratitude by giving four 
 red hats to the king to deck the heads of four French 
 papists, and thus bind them to Rome. One was for Odet 
 de Chatillon, seventeen years of age. To qualify him for 
 the cardinalship he was made bishop of Beauvais. How 
 well the hat fitted him and how wise the pope was in his 
 present tiie coming pages will show, but it certainly did not 
 evince papal infallibility. "The pontiff gave it from polit- 
 ical motives, calculating that the influence of the Coligny 
 family would aid him in making good his claim to his large 
 possessions in France."* Brantome tells us that he knew 
 the cardinal well, " and whenever I recall his name it ap- 
 pears to me that France never possessed a more discreet, 
 * Vita Colinii.
 
 A laSINc; (JKNEIJATION. 23 
 
 courteous and generous man. I have heard thirsc who 
 knew him at the court of Francis I. and Henry II. .say that 
 the <lisprace of his friends never shook his favour to them, 
 nor couhl his very enemies help but love him, so frank was 
 liis face, so open his heart and so gentle his manners, for he 
 never was rude to any one." 
 
 At eighteen, Gaspard, now the lord of Chatillon, was at 
 college in Paris, where he was regarded as the pattern of 
 tliligcnce and morality. The moral standard was very low 
 among the students. He and his brother Andelot were in 
 a dangerous whirlpool, exposed to every sort of strife, 
 jealousy and intrigue. It was a rude age, and we may ex- 
 pect rough scenes in a college at stormy Paris. Even the 
 professors were not all studious of peace. Morin, the pro- 
 vost of the faculty, was one day going to the class-room 
 with his sword at his side, when a gentleman of Poitou met 
 him and pressed him to make a trial of weapons. In self- 
 defence the provost drew his sword. The thrusts became 
 lively. By a mishap the offender received a wound, fell 
 back and expired in the arms of his friends. He had two 
 brothel's in the college, who rushed toward the provost, "al- 
 ready more dead than alive." Coligny was no longer will- 
 ing to remain a silent spectator of the affair, and he stepped 
 forward to check their rage. He told them how it had 
 come to pass, but they were not in a mood to hear an argu- 
 ment in behalf of his teacher. They made a thrust at him 
 and would have slain him, had not a band of students 
 ranged themselves upon his side. Morin escaped their re- 
 venge upon himself, but they resolved to take it upon young 
 Coligny. 
 
 Professor Parini interfered. He sent the two brothers 
 to prison, where their chagrin made them doubly fierce. 
 The older one challenged Coligny to a duel, to be fought as 
 soon as he should be at liberty. Duels were sanctioned at
 
 24 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 that day by liigli authority. They were supposed to be the 
 only means of maintaining injured honour. Coligny and 
 his brother Andelot* accepted the challenge ; two brothers 
 were thus engaged against two brothers. The eyes of the 
 professors were upon them — stealth was necessary. The 
 night was chosen to cover the dark deed. An escape must 
 be made from a window of Coligny's room ; perhaps the 
 door was kept locked by the janitor. A basket was pur- 
 chased by his valet, at Coligny's order, and at the appointed 
 hour he and Andelot let themselves down to the ground. 
 Early in the morning the challenging brothers were at the 
 chosen place. There was a skirmish, some blood was shed ; 
 Andelot was severely wounded ; honour was supposed to 
 be fully maintained ; the Coligny brothers had unexpectedly 
 shown themselves equal to their taller foes, who were cha- 
 grined rather than satisfied, and peace was restored. The 
 faculty resolved to expel from college the two gentlemen 
 from Poitou.f Coligny interceded for them in the noble- 
 ness of his disposition, but it does not appear that he pre- 
 vailed. His error in duelling is not excused, even by the 
 custom of the times, as he came to understand. We shall 
 find him acting a nobler part under greater provocations. 
 AVhile condemning his fault, we admire his forgiving spirit 
 and his magnanimity. 
 
 The education which Coligny received was intended to 
 develop two qualities — the heroic and the graceful. The 
 skill of a soldier and the accomplishments of a courtier 
 were the two attainments which his uncle Montmorency 
 chiefly valued. "NVe meet him at the royal court at an 
 early age, and wonder that he so bravely resists its vices. 
 
 *" Francois qu'on nomma Andelot." Conrtiltz, Vie de Coligny. 
 Ili.s estates bore the title of Andelot. He is also called lyAndelot, 
 and Dandclot. 
 
 f Courtiltz, Vie de Coligny.
 
 A RISING GENERATION. 25 
 
 It had ruined many of the noblest young Frenclimen. It 
 was a school of manners, of morals and of i)olitics. The 
 manners were licentious. The morals were a mere pretence ; 
 they were the indulgences of Romanism in its lowest state. 
 The politics were those of Machiavel. In everything the 
 main principle was deception. In such a whited sepulchre 
 the air was pestilential. And yet through it some pure 
 spirits moved. The influence of his mother was still ex- 
 erted upon Coligny. She was at court, and the court wa.s 
 a troop of sixty or eighty ladies and a whole regiment of 
 gentry. She was in the household of Margaret of Navarre, 
 and, as there is reason to believe, she was the honoured 
 governess of the little princess Jeanne D'Albret. Who 
 knows but that she read the following letter of Margaret, 
 showing us some of the i)owerful influences of truth exerted 
 in those fiery days ? — 
 
 " You ask me, my children, to do a very difficult thing 
 — to invent a diversion that will drive away your ennui. 
 I have been seeking all my life to effect this; but I have 
 found only one remedy, which is, reading the Holy Scrip- 
 tures. In perusing them my mind experiences its true and 
 perfect joy ; and from the pleasure of the mind proceed the 
 repose and health of the body. If you desire me to tell you 
 what I do to be so gay and well at my advanced age, it is be- 
 cause, as soon as I get up, I read these sacred books. Then 
 I see and contemplate the will of God who sent his Son to 
 us on earth to preach that holy word, and to announce the 
 sweet tidings that he promises to pardon our sins and ex- 
 tinguish our debts, by giving us his Son, who loved us, and 
 who suflJl'rod and died for our sakes. This idea so delights 
 me that I take uj* the Psalms and sing them with my heart, 
 and pronounce with my tongue, as humbly as possible, the 
 fine hymns with which the Holy Spirit inspired David and 
 the sacred authors. The pleasure I receive from this ex- 
 VoL. I.— 3
 
 26 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 ercise so transports me that I consider all the evils that 
 may happen me in the day to be real blessings ; for I place 
 Him in my heart by faith who endured more misery for 
 me. Before I sup, I retire in the same manner to give my 
 soul a congenial lesson. At night I review all that I 
 have done in the day. I implore pardon for my faults ; 
 I thank my God for his favours ; and I lie down in his 
 love, in his fear and in his peace, free from every worldly 
 anxiety." 
 
 Montmorency must have felt his bigotry somewhat shat- 
 tered when the letters of his best friend ]\Iargaret were 
 constantly bringing the gospel to his mind. She always 
 called him "my nephew," and when he was on one of his 
 marches against Charles V., she wrote : " I send you, mon 
 neveu, a psalter translated into French, that the Avords 
 which the king has caused his poets to record may be im- 
 printed on your heart. I regret that it is bound in parch- 
 ment, but I could not here [Valence] get a better copy. I 
 entreat Him, by Avhose holy inspirations these Psalms 
 were written, to grant that the mantle of Joshua may de- 
 scend upon you, for the deliverance of these realms."* 
 
 The Reform was in its cradle, and the singing around it 
 was glorious. This is a striking feature of that restless 
 age. A time of song is not a time of social and moral 
 death. When society is heaving, Avhen party spirit runs 
 high, Avhen war rages, or when a political campaign keeps 
 a nation awake, popular airs and ballads are heard every- 
 where. Amid the horrors of battle a soldier strikes the 
 note and the chorus runs along the line. "When the Psalms 
 were eagerly caught up by court and crowd, they told of a 
 deep religious movement: the break of the wave-crests 
 show that some tremendous force is agitating the sea. 
 What started this popular singing? A poor verse-writer 
 
 * The vear 1536.
 
 A RISING GENEUATIOX. 27 
 
 wanted his bread. Heaven would turn h'nn to a good 
 account, and make the enemy sing the truth into greater 
 faviuir. 
 
 Coligny must have crossed the track of a poet's son, a 
 page at court, the valet of Margaret of Navarre, the scrib- 
 bler of ditties to the ladies, a genius attempting to live by 
 his wits. He was Clement Marot. He tried the law, but 
 gave up the study. He went with the army, but was glad 
 to get away before the battle came. These were not his 
 mission. The Bedists threw him into prison, on suspicion 
 of his being a " Lutheran." His heresy was hardly so 
 rank, and he was set free. His crime was fleshly rather 
 tlian moral ; he had eaten bacon in Lent. Under the 
 shield of Margaret he travelled into Beam, and thence he 
 took shelter at Ferrara, at the court of the good Duchess 
 R('n<>e (1535). He became her secretary and laureate. It 
 is something in favour of a man, whose worse traits have 
 been widely heralded, that he had the patronage of two 
 such noble princesses. Romanists have charged him with 
 im])arting the new doctrines to IMadame Renee. But this 
 oiily surviving child of Louis XH. had, doubtless, received 
 tlie truth from Madame Soubise, or her cousin jNLargaret, 
 before she left her native France. An extraordinary 
 scholar herself, she delighted to make her court the asylum 
 of learned men and increase the literary fame of her 
 adopted city. The Gospel had long been in her hands ; it 
 must have touched her heart. Yet much is due to another 
 exile just coming to her court. ^larot and Calvin were 
 there together, " the poet and the preacher of the French 
 Reformation ;" the one full of sentiment, the other strong 
 in faith. Neither of them yet knew where he was to strike, 
 or what he was to do in the world. !^Larot saw his pa- 
 troness under the frown of her cruel husband, and wrote to 
 Margaret :
 
 28 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 Seeing her handled in this way, 
 Mourning the worse tlian darkened day, 
 From France she's banished, I should say, 
 As much as I. 
 
 O'er her poor cheek and swimming eye 
 I've seen the changeful colours fly, 
 Her tears fall fast at festal high 
 Into her cup. 
 
 Her spouse, who, pledged to duty near. 
 Should soothe the sob and dry the tear, 
 Causes them both. There's worse to fear, 
 She deems aright. 
 
 The Duke saw too many "gospellers" in his palace — 
 Calvin, Marot, Madame Soubise and her children, besides 
 certain Italians. He would soon banish them. But they 
 improved their time. They met in the private parlour, 
 read tlie Scriptures, prayed and confirmed each other in 
 the faith. Among them was Renee's daughter Anne, 
 versed in Latin and Greek, a diligent reader of the Bible, 
 fond of theology, and able to sing with wondrous power the 
 best hymn that Marot could write. How great her fall ! 
 She was to marry a Guise, become the most bitter foe of 
 Coligny and one of the instigators of St. Bartholomew. 
 That group is worthy of a full picture, a monograph. 
 Those conversations were to report themselves in telling 
 deeds. Marot grew brave — perhaps sincerely bold. He 
 ■wrote to Francis I. a courageous lettfer, with a sting of 
 rhyming truth in it — 
 
 The Sorbonnists, in their alarm, 
 Have thought to do a poet harm ; 
 They and the court liave said and say, 
 They will me as a felon slay. 
 Then let them one more victim seize ! 
 Oh that it might the wise Lord please,
 
 A RISING CiENKKATIO.V. 29 
 
 For liiri afllictf*! people's good, 
 
 To glut their longing for ray blood, 
 
 If thus their foul abuse and deed 
 
 AVerc made po clear that men would heed ! 
 
 Kay, five times blessed were my death, 
 
 If by the stopping of my breatii 
 
 A million belter lives should be 
 
 From error set for ever free ! 
 
 That was saying a great deal, for martyrdom was not 
 incre poetry in that day. A breath of Calvin had passed 
 over those lines. These men were to part for a few years. 
 Did the theologian give the poet a new theme for verse? 
 ^larot returned to Paris, Madame Renee having made clear 
 the way. He studied with the eminent Francis Vatable, 
 tlie king's professor of Hebrew. He turned about forty 
 I'salms into French verse. Despite the Sorbonnc, he 
 ])riiite<l tliein. The king was pleased. A copy was for- 
 warded to Charles V., who sent the poet two hundred 
 doubloons and urged him to go on. These psalms were 
 hailed as "a great invention" made by the "prince of i)oets 
 and tijc poet of princes." The court sang them to popular 
 airs, for they had no other, as Protestantism had not yet 
 composed the tunes. Each had a favourite. Catherine's 
 was the sixth: " Lord, in wrath rebuke me not." Henry's 
 was, ''He blessed is who fears the Lc.rd" (128th). At a 
 later day Charles IX. sang when hunting, " Like as the 
 hart doth breathe and bray"f42d). The people eagerly 
 took them from the press. They could not be printed fast 
 enoiiLib. They crowded out the ballads and low ditties 
 which hail been so common in France. The noble in his 
 castle sang them. The peasant among his vines delighted 
 in the songs. The streets of cities resounded with them. 
 The valleys were full of them, and their voice was redoub- 
 led from the mountains. A new agency was promoting the 
 
 3*
 
 30 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 unorganized Reform. It was the only one that could have 
 fired the souls of men. Providence had timed it to meet 
 the great necessity. 
 
 Marot was not safe in Paris. In his Avanderings he was 
 drawn to Geneva (1543), where Calvin gave him both wel- 
 come and work.* Beza helped to versify the entire psalm- 
 ody. Goudirael and William Francke were employed to 
 supply more solid tunes than the common airs of the day. 
 This French hymnal became the standard in the French 
 Reformed churches. After Genevan hands had touched it 
 the papal gentry gradually ceased to sing the Psalms. But 
 for years the people clung to them. Papists ridiculed ; one 
 of them set to music a French version of the Odes of Hor- 
 ace, but the popular contempt was his reward. Other 
 papists were in fear lest they who made the religious songs 
 of the nation would soon make its laws. The historian, 
 Florimond de Remond, wrote, " The wise world, stujiidly 
 wise in this, which judges of things by the outward appear- 
 ance, praised this sort of amusement, not seeing that under 
 this chant, or rather new enchantment, a thousand per- 
 nicious novelties crept into their souls." But wits might 
 jeer — the people sang all the louder. 
 
 Marot deserves another word. He is not claimed to have 
 been a saint. He was the Robert Burns of his age. Yet 
 it cannot be shown that he was a profligate. Beza says of 
 him, "Having always been trained in a very bad school, 
 and not being able to subject his life to the Reformation," 
 he left Geneva. Out of this has grown a whole romance 
 of accusations. Yet not a trace of his leading a scandalous 
 
 * " Calvin offers to engage Clement Marot to put the Psalms of 
 David into French." Registers Council Geneva, loth October, 1543. 
 That year an edition of fifty Psalms was issued with a preface by Cal- 
 vin. Enlarged editions appeared on to the year 15G3. Ruchat, Hist, 
 ReJ. de la Suisse.
 
 A BISIXG GENERATION^. 31 
 
 life is to be found on the records of Geneva. The fact is, 
 he was not willing; to be a consistent Christian. He seems 
 to have died an exile in Piedmont. He not only gave a 
 Psalmody to the French Protestants but he formed a new 
 school in literature. Schlosser affirms that " he combined 
 the pious and religious spirit of the time with that classical 
 training which was derived from the convents and with the 
 spirit of wantonness which sprang from the national litera- 
 ture." La Fontaine owes his reputation to his adoption 
 of Marot's style. Hence his "Fables" have been read for a 
 century.* 
 
 It was, doubtless, a copy of ^larot's Psalms Avhich ^Nlont- 
 morency received when in camp. But he was not the man 
 to sing them. He may have tossed the little book aside to 
 fall into his nephew's hands. Yet he had a rigid devotion 
 in his way. Brantome asserts that "he never missed saying 
 his Pater-noslers, whether at home, on horseback, in camp 
 or on the field. It was a common saying, ' God save us from 
 the Pater-noders of the constable.' For while he muttered 
 them, if any disorder arose in the army he would cry out at 
 intervals, 'Catch that fellow!' 'Hang that one on a tree!' 
 'Fire upon those rascals, yonder!' 'Burn such a town!' all 
 without ceasing from his prayers. He thought it a great 
 sin to omit them, so conscientious was he." This must have 
 disgusted his nephews, who witnessed a purer spirit in many 
 of those who sang their praises with sincerity. 
 
 It is important for us to know two of Coligny's young 
 friends, who were to exert a powerful influence in shaping 
 his career. One of them was heir to the duchy of Guise, 
 the other was heir to the throne of France. The first 
 would one day become his bitterest enemy, the second would 
 open to him the golden gate of promotion. 
 
 * Bayle, Diotioiinairc et Qi^nvres ; Bungener, Calvhi sa Vie, etc. 
 CEiivies de .Marot.
 
 32 ADiMIIlAL COLIGXY. 
 
 Some of the old liistoriaiis liad in tlieir minds a pieturo 
 of a man, sent forth from hi.s iiitlicr's house, lest he should 
 take his brother's life in order to ensure to himself the 
 duchy of Lorraine, and coming into France "with a wallet 
 and a walking-stick," to take possession of the county of 
 Guise as his inheritance. This man was Claude, the son 
 of Rene, the powerful duke of Lorraine. He settled in 
 Picardy in 1513, mangled the French language with his 
 German tongue, married the Bourbon princess Antoinette, 
 proved his valour in battle, laid schemes to make himself 
 equal to the great barons, and claimed to be a prince of 
 the blood on the score that he was descended from Godfrey 
 the Crusader, who took Jerusalem, and from Charlemagne, 
 the greatest of the old emperors, and, with about as much 
 foundation, from Priam at Troy. "He began to grow," 
 says a chronicler, who ridiculed his lofty pretensions, "by 
 crouching and capping, and double diligence." Louis XII. 
 took him into favour, and created for him a new duchy, a 
 thing never done except for a prince of the blood. The 
 town of Guise on the river Oise, that flowed past the birth- 
 place of John Calvin, gave name to the new duchy and to 
 the new house, wdiich was to become the most fierce enemy 
 of the Huguenots, and to provoke the civil wars and the 
 massacres that reddened France with Christian blood. 
 Picardy sent forth Calvin as the leader of the French Re- 
 formation, and the Guises to make Avar against it. The 
 two oldest sons of this new house were Francis, the future 
 duke of Guise, and Charles, the future cardinal of Lorraine. 
 Both were gifted in mind, ambitious of power, crafty in 
 their schemes, devoid of conscience, reckless of the means 
 they employed, and determined to rule or ruin. 
 
 Francis de Guise was about two years younger than Gas- 
 pard Coligny. In youth they were "boon companions, 
 friends and confederates at the court, wearing the same
 
 A RISING GENERATION. 33 
 
 <lrcs>^es, using the same liveries, of tlie same parties in tour- 
 naments and combats of pleasantry, runnings at the ring 
 and masquerades." They enjoyed eaeh other's follies, and 
 consulted together when they wished to be wise. Bran- 
 tome further says that Guise was " prodigiously eloquent, 
 and so was Coligny, but the latter was the more learned of 
 th(! two ; he understood and spoke Latin well ; he had both 
 studied and read ; always reading when not engaged in 
 atiiiirs. Chatillon was a lord of honour, a man of good- 
 ness, sage, mature, well-advised, politic and brave; a censor 
 and weigher of things, loving honour and virtue." This 
 literary courtier also says that Coligny and Guise were 
 " two diamonds of the finest water, on the superior excel- 
 lence of which it is impossible to decide." Their portraits 
 might be taken for those of two brothers; Guise the taller 
 and more commanding; Coligny the more thoughtful and 
 deliberate; both courteous, naturally humane and popular. 
 The one was politic, ambitious, even crafty ; the other was 
 artless, undisguised, frank and open-hearted ; his counte- 
 nance was so happy that none who saw him failed to love 
 him.* The one made religion subserve his own j)urj)oses ; 
 the other served the cause of religion with a faith that was 
 heroic, and with aims that imparted a grandeur even to his 
 failures. The day came when these men were the ])0})ular 
 champions of two great parties ; the name of Guise being 
 the watchword of the Sorbonnists, and that of Chatillou 
 the watchword of the Huguenots. 
 
 Prince Henry, the heir to the French crown, was the 
 ecjual of young Guise in age, but far inferior in talent and 
 enterprise. I lis little Italian wife, Catherine, more than 
 made up the difference. lie resembled Coligny in the 
 serious cast of his mind, l)ut he h:id no taste for learning; 
 of the arts he knew nothing, and if he expressed himself 
 * Courtiltz, rercaii, Brantoine, Vies de Coligny.
 
 34 ADMIRAL COLTGNY. 
 
 without fiiltering, he merited a coiuplinient. Ilappy were 
 they who won from him a smile. His friendship was more 
 sincere and histing than that of most princes. Slow in 
 deciding upon a course of action, he was firm in his resolu- 
 tions. He engaged in the chase and the knightly games of 
 the age with a zest that often exposed him to danger. We 
 imagine Coligny often attending him when he rode to his 
 forest sports, sometimes pursuing the stag for seven restless 
 hours, when horses fell exhausted under him, and when the 
 admiration of the ladies was increased by their renewed 
 astonishment at his narrow escapes.* 
 
 Prince Henry gave occasion for Coligny to make his 
 choice of parties at the court and afterward in the kingdom. 
 King Francis had made Montmorency the constable of 
 France, but the hauglity warrior had not become the 
 menial of his master. The king sent Henry into Piedmont 
 to make war for mere effect; the constable sent forward 
 the best troops to make war in earnest and win victories. 
 The young prince was a conqueror; he brought home a,- 
 brilliant reputation, and acknowledged that he owed it to 
 Montmorency. The king had been foiled in his policy. 
 He threw the blame on the constable, saying to him, " You 
 are not content to be my agent ; you would be king your- 
 self" The enmity increased : two crafty women had a 
 hand in making it intolerable. 
 
 The devotion of Prince Henry to Diana of Poitiers is 
 too strange for fiction, but too important to be overlooked 
 as a fact. She was old enough to be his mother, and shrewd 
 enough to counsel him as a son. It seems strange that she 
 
 t Civil Wars and Monarchy in France, by Leopold Ranke. Think 
 of lliis hunting l)n.<ine3s, when Charles IX. used up 5000 dogs and 
 brolce the wind of all his horses, valued at 30,000 francs! Francis I. 
 had expended 150,000 dollars, yearly, on horse?, hounds, falcons and 
 cha-sseurs. — Von Raumer.
 
 A RISING GENERATION. 35 
 
 should have the credit of rousini; Henry to activity and 
 of preventint^ Catherine from l)eing divorced and .«ent 
 back to Italy. She Avas .soon in collision with the Duchess 
 (r]Ctani])es, and the fjuarrels of two bad women divided the 
 court into two ])artie.s. ]Montmorency sided with Henry, 
 and his ihll was determined. Coligny followed his uncle, 
 but maintained the honour of the neglected Catharine de 
 .Medici — a fact that .she ought never to have forgotten. 
 
 Stranger still was the power of these two rival mistresses 
 over the religious parties. Diana, very devout in the Rom- 
 ish way, hated the I'rotestants. At her word they were 
 burned. ]>y her minions they were plundered, and she 
 grew immensely rich. They said of her, "For twelve years 
 an old woman kept heaven so close that not a drop of jus- 
 tice fell on France, except by stealth." The bells were 
 taxed to build her a splendid palace. The young Duch&ss 
 d'Etampes was rather the medium of mercy. To her, po(U' 
 victims appealed, or gospel-loving priests begged her inter- 
 cessions. She whispered in the royal ear, and the cruelties 
 Avere lessened. It was her policy. Sounder convictions 
 were wrought in her soul at a later day. She inllanicd llie 
 king against Montmorency. 
 
 The king vented his anger upon Montmorency on an- 
 other score. He had asked the emperor for !Milan, ac- 
 cording to a late treaty. "I promised nothing of the sort," 
 was the rejily. Tlicrc was no paper to show it. Still, 
 Francis had granted Charles liberty to pass through his 
 realm. The king's jester had written on his tablet, "The 
 emptror Charles is more of a fool than I am, for venturing 
 to pass through France." The king asked, " But if I 
 ])romised him safety, what then?" "Then I would erase 
 his name and insert yours." Several people had the same 
 secret tliought as this buffoon, says the Abbe Millot, but 
 he alone had the privilege of speaking it. Charles made
 
 3^ ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 his journey. But Milan was not given over to the French, 
 and Montmorency was doomed. He now showed his utter 
 ingratitude to his truest friend, Margaret, who had secured 
 for him the office of constable of France. He revealed his 
 hatred of Protestantism. Probably Diana had incited him, 
 or had that psaltery "in parchment" offended him? 
 
 " If you really wish to root heresy out of your kingdom," 
 said Montmorency, "you must begin at your court, and take 
 in hand some who are your near relatives." "What?" 
 "You must make an example of your sister Margaret." 
 
 Francis was touched : " Ah ! you would send her to the 
 stake! Never, sir. I will not have her name mentioned. 
 She loves me too well to believe a creed which I do not be- 
 lieve, or which would injure the welfare of my realm." 
 Margaret heard of this baseness. She wrote no more letters 
 to "my nephew" (1538). It was another sign of the close 
 line being drawn between the old popery and the new Re- 
 form, 
 
 Some time later, Margaret's daughter Jeanne, a child of 
 thirteen, was to go through the form of a betrothal to the 
 Duke of Cleves. She protested by words, by a vigorous 
 pen and on oath — all in vain. The day came. The pro- 
 cession was marching to the church, but it was noticed that 
 Montmorency was not in his usual place bearing the 
 sword of state before the king. Jeanne was sinking under 
 illness and the weight of robes and jewels. The king had 
 intendefl to support his niece, but he ordered the proud 
 constable, who had nearly all the reins of government in 
 his hands, to take her iu his arms and carry her to the 
 altar. The courtiers were amazed at the indignity. He 
 obeyed, but he muttered, " Adieu to my honours !" The 
 formal ceremony of marriage was enacted, and Jeanne and 
 Cleves separated for ever. Montmorency was soon deprived 
 of all his offices except that of constable, which could not
 
 A RISING GENEUATIO.V. 37 
 
 be taken away. He retired to Chantilly, waiting for an- 
 other king who would know him. Prince Henry saved him 
 and the ChatiHons. He loved Montmorency and held him 
 as a counsellor. Every day letters passed between them. 
 Coligny may have frequently been the willing messenger 
 when absent from the field of war. In this he had the 
 confidence of Francis of Guise. It is important to mark 
 the friendship existing at this jjeriod between these young 
 inen, on whom so much of the future depended. The hu- 
 man heart is a mystery ; the ardent love of to-day may be 
 changed to the most revengeful hatred to-morrow. 
 
 " The life of M. de Chatillon," .says one of his first biog- 
 raphers, " was so linked with that of his king that it is 
 difficult to treat of the one without the other." On the 
 journeys of Francis I., Coligny rides in the train ; when 
 important letters are to be carried to ofticers of state or the 
 army, he is the messenger ; when the people of La Rochelle 
 are about to revolt, he bears a part in pei-suading them to 
 pay their taxes and be quiet ; when the siege is laid against 
 an important town, he is seen in the trenches ; and when a 
 village is sacked by rapacious soldiers, he is conspicuous as 
 the ]>rotect()r of frightened women who beg for honour and 
 life. At the age of twenty-six he entered fully upon the 
 profession of arms. Pages might be written upon the con- 
 spicuous part borne by him in the battle-fields of Italy, 
 Lorraine, Flanders and Northern France. He represented 
 that vigorous nobility which was to adopt the Reform at 
 the moment of its saddest depression. 
 
 The first account of a wound received by Coligny almost 
 provokes a smile. It wa.s in the siege of IMontmedi. Noth- 
 ing could prevent him from running the greatest risks, for 
 "lie was eager to learn liis trade, and was in tlie trenches 
 every hour." A musket-ball riddiecl his hat, and young 
 GuifC (Prince de Joinvillej asked, "Are you wounded?" 
 Vol.. I.— 1 
 
 i^^^ jno
 
 88 ADAIIUAL C()1.[(JNY. 
 
 "I think I am," was the cool reply. Guise, who was "a 
 novice in this sort of thing," was aftlicted beyond measure. 
 " It is no great matter," said Coligny ; " and yet it might 
 have been. The trade we drive ought to accustom us lo 
 deatli, as well as to life. The soldier should live as one 
 who is likely to be cut down in a moment. Life is brief at 
 most, and to die twenty years sooner or twenty years later 
 ought to be indifferent to one who is prepared for it."* 
 Such was the high toae of the young man in whose hands 
 God would soon place the destinies of the Reformation. 
 
 The perils of battle had a charm for Coligny. To be 
 denied a part in a siege was to him an adversity. When 
 serving with Francis of Guise, then a lieutenant under the 
 Duke of Orleans, an attack was to be made against the 
 walls of Luxemburg.f The greater the wound the greater 
 the honour, thought the young lord of Chatillon, expecting 
 to take his place in the trenches. But to his grief he was 
 summoned by Montmorency to Chantilly. He dared not 
 disobey, " although he had all the passion in the world to 
 be present at a siege so remarkable." He kneAV that his 
 great uncle loved him as one of his own sons, but he did 
 not suspect the object of the call was to deliver him from 
 peril, He made a speedy journey, and found that he had 
 been summoned on the pretext of "a family affair of the 
 
 * Perau, Brantomo, Conrtiltz. 
 
 f The Frcnc'li policy of making a new administration popular by a 
 vigorous war had been adopted. The new ministers reversed the 
 measures of Montmorency. They strengthened the forces against 
 Flanders and Brabant, and sent forth three additional armies: one 
 under the brave William du Bellay, against Milan ; a second under 
 the Duke of Orleans, against Luxemburg; and a third under Prince 
 Ileiiry and the new admiral, Annebaut, into Dauphiny. If the first 
 two had failed, Montmorency would scarcely liave shed tears; he espe- 
 cially was not anxious for the success of the Duke of Orleans, the 
 favourite of the party which exulted in his disgrace.
 
 A RISING GENERATION. 39 
 
 last consequence." lie bitterly complained of his trcat- 
 UKiit. "It wa.s to save you from extraordinary danger," 
 said Montmorency, whose favouritism appeared coutempt- 
 ible to his nephew. 
 
 "I thank you for your care of me," replied Coligny, 
 "but still think your tenderness out of season. It hinders 
 me from my duty to my country. I entreat you to send me 
 back to the ranks." Pressed by these entreaties, Montmo- 
 rency yielded, although he held himself in lieu of a father, 
 and was loth to let him depart. 'We next find our young 
 hero ])raving every danger in the siege of Bains. Wounded 
 in the throat by a musket-ball, he was forced by his com- 
 mander to retire from the scene of death. Special orders 
 were given to the surgeon, who came with all haste, won- 
 dered that he was not dead, seemed more affrighted at the 
 wound than the wounded man himself, and wasted time in 
 exclamations and long-drawn sighs. His compassion was a 
 mere emotion : it was not a motive impelling him to do 
 <|uickly what was needed to save the life of a brave soldier. 
 "These grimaces may comfort some people," said Coligny, 
 "but for me they are not all necessary. If you wish to 
 save your reputation, give me relief as soon as possible." 
 
 "Do you take me for an impostor?" replied the sur- 
 geon, with brutal haughtiness, and beginning to put up his 
 instruments. "If so, I will aid those who have confidence 
 in me." It is easy to imagine how provoking this conduct 
 was to a man who was bleeding to death, and whom the 
 wliole army regarded as in great danger ; but he was insen- 
 sible to the insult, overlooking the brutality of the surgeon. 
 He apologized, his wound was dressed, and for only ten 
 days he kept his tent. Against the protest of his officers, 
 he then took the field once more, and in the cavalry service 
 won new honours. 
 
 The king admired brave men, and chose Coligny for the
 
 40 ADMIRAL COLIGXY. 
 
 work of quelling a diistnrbance in the soutli-west. The 
 people of La Kochelle refused to pay certain taxes ; the 
 king resolved to collect them with his cavalry. When the 
 tramp of such revenue officers was heard in the distance 
 the city was filled with alarms. The spirit of revolt began 
 to subside. The citizens remembered the Marshal de Cha- 
 tillon, who had held important relations with them, and 
 they sent a deputy to the son, asking him to intercede for 
 them with the king. " Bring letters from your authorities," 
 said Coligny. " Let us know your conditions of peace." 
 
 The messenger was returning for the letters when he fell 
 into the hands of the advance guard and was led as a spy 
 before the king. When questioned, he stated that he was 
 acting under the instructions of Coligny. At this the en- 
 emies of Montmorency and his nephews were ready to cry, 
 " Treason ! Let the ambitious Chatillon be arrested. Is 
 he a prince of the blood ?" Thus early in his career was 
 jealousy marking him as a victim. 
 
 The king, less suspicious of a plot, drew Coligny aside, 
 and gladly learned that the young officer had acted from 
 the noblest of motives, and that the rebels were coming to 
 a better mind. The army advanced within a mile of the 
 gates, and the chief citizens hurried forth with entreaties 
 for peace. Speeches were made ; terms Avex-e offijred. 
 " Speak no more of revolt," said Francis I. " Forget it 
 all as I do. Ring all your bells, for you are pardoned. 
 Take back the keys of your gates. I see none here but my 
 children ; in me you behold a father. ]\Iy rival [the em- 
 peror Charles V.] may spill the blood of his unfortunate 
 subjects of Ghent; it is a pleasure worthy of him. But 
 my delight is to recover the hearts of my people." 
 
 Some blamed, others praised the king for this clemency. 
 Coligny said to him, " You have not only secured the loy- 
 alty of the people, but you have made your fame immortal."
 
 A UlSING GKNKli.V rio.V. 41 
 
 Tlie young chief liad won equal favour, and in tlie day 
 ulien lie would need a refuge La Kochelle would give him 
 welcome. 
 
 News came that the army in Italy was in danger. " Send 
 me to the front," was the urgent request of Coligny. He 
 took the first post, followed by the host of courtiers, so that 
 the palace was quite deserted. Andelot was among them. 
 They all pushed on, riding down horses, breaking down 
 coaches, and overcoming other difficulties by " the force of 
 silver." At Cerisola the armies measured their strength. 
 Young Enghien (a Bourbon) had the command of the 
 I^'rench. He saw the Spaniards cutting to pieces his cen- 
 tral column. He had brought on the battle contrary to 
 the king's order. How bitter would be defeat and reproach ! 
 He placed his sword so that he might ftiU upon it and die. 
 But just then some straggling horsemen told him that there 
 was victory along the line. The Spanish commander had 
 fled. The result was largely due to Coligny and his brother. 
 They and other young heroes were knighted on the field. 
 After farther service, Coligny returned to Paris with the 
 rank of colonel. 
 
 The garrison at J>()ul()gnc mu.-t bo relieved. Young cav- 
 aliers went sweeping on to the straits of Dover. They 
 looked for the French signal on the walls ; they saw the 
 J'^nglish fiag. The governor of the town had struck his 
 colours and let in the enemy. A few movements, a raking 
 fire, a bold charge, the crashing down of a gate and a small 
 man was riding into the lower part of the town at the head 
 of the best drilled regiment in France. He was Coligny, 
 shouting, " On, now, to the heights. Drive out the English. 
 The darkness will hel|) us." The higher officers opposed : 
 " It is too dark. Frit'ud caiuiot be told from foe." Tlieir 
 counsel prevailed afler Coligny had put more than six hun- 
 dred men into the place. Winter was coming, and he was 
 
 4*
 
 42 ADMIRAL COTJGXY. 
 
 left to maintain the siege. In one engagement young Guise 
 Avas struck in the fiice with a lance which passed through 
 from one side to the otlicr. Coligny Avas in distress. He 
 brouglit in Ambrose Pare, " the father of French surgery," 
 ■who was then a student of the Bible. The lance was 
 drawn from the head of Guise in a way that makes one 
 shudder to read of it. It was like tearing up a small tree 
 by the roots, and performed in a manner quite similar. 
 Yet the hero scarcely groaned. His recovery seemed a 
 miracle, adding to the fame of Pare. The warrior gained 
 the title of Le Balafre — the scar-covered. 
 
 Pending the siege the peace of Crespy was signed (1544), 
 between King Francis and the Emperor Charles. The 
 long wars were to cease, but the work of bloodshedding was 
 to take another form. The pope had been anxious for 
 peace, so that these great monarchs might employ the 
 vigour of their last days against the Protestants. They 
 secretly engaged to destroy "heresy" in their respective do- 
 minions — an agreement not to be forgotten. 
 
 Papal writers never weary of repeating that Francis I. 
 gently treated the Reform in its infancy. "It was his fate," 
 says one, " to befriend the enemies of religion," True, he 
 favoured the Renaissance. He invited scholars to Paris. 
 He begged INIelancthon to come. He maintained learned 
 professors in the colleges. But yet he drove away scholars 
 who advocated the new doctrines. It has been said, " Had 
 Lutheran ism made its way into France, as it had in Eng- 
 land, it might have been tolerated ; but Calvinism roused 
 at once the king, the court, the prelates, nobles and 
 legists."* We do not believe a word of it. Our proof is 
 that hundreds of men were sent to the stake under the 
 name of " Lutherans." Indeed, the fires were kept burn- 
 ing for those who held a still milder form of doctrine — those 
 * Crowe, History of France ; Fronde, passim.
 
 A RISIXfl OENHKATIO.V. 43 
 
 ulio lolluwcd the qufin (tl' Miivarrc, iiud wliosc moLto was, 
 " A reform iu tlie Roman Church, and not a new Church 
 outside of the old pale." It was the very fact of heresy, 
 and not the mei'C form of it, that lay heavy on the royul 
 heart. xSot a man, woman or child was safe when a Bible 
 was found in the house. 
 
 Francis had a pride in his college.?. But mark the re- 
 port of the Venetian envoy Cavalli :* "The university 
 may uund)er some twelve thousand or sixteen thousand 
 .scholars, of whom, however, many live iu poverty. The 
 salaries of the professors are very small and their duties 
 very extensive ; yet they crowd to Paris, because of the 
 lionour of teaching there. The professoi-s of the Sorbonne 
 have the unlimited right of chastising heretics, and cause 
 them to be burnt alive, little by little." And on these 
 burnings Francis gazed with the utmost comj)osurc! 
 
 Nor was it enough that four thousand people sliuuld die 
 by private martyrdoms during his reign. There must be a 
 wholesale devastation. When Francis was thought to be 
 dying. Cardinal Tournou said to him, " Your suHc'rings are 
 a judgment from God; you must propitiate Heaven by 
 destroying the heretics." The word went forth. " Thick 
 grass is more easily mown than thin," was the i)itliy saying 
 of Alaric, and this policy led Francis to choose the Wal- 
 denses of Daui)hiny for an example. The brigands, under 
 Oppide, were let loose upon the towns and villages. None 
 were spared. Even papists were slaughtered for living 
 (juietly among Protestants. 
 
 One poor idiot, amid the sacking, burning and butchery 
 at Merindol, held out his hand to a soldier and said, "These 
 two crowns for my life." He alone was left. Oppide heard 
 of it, arrested the idiot and had him shot, saying, "I know 
 how to treat these people. I will send them, children and 
 * A. D. 1547, Von Rauuier, Orig. Doc.
 
 44 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 all, to live in hell !" Other towns were tlms stricken from 
 the map of France. A witness wi'ote, " I saw in one church 
 between four and five hundred poor w'omen and children 
 butchered." A barn filled with refugees was burned. 
 Some fled into caves ; they were suffocated by the smoke 
 of fires kindled at the entrances. Twenty-two towns and 
 villages were utterly destroyed, and the silence of deso- 
 lation has long hung over a district that once resounded 
 with the songs of harmless shepherds and the ring of clieer- 
 ful industry.* 
 
 All this, and much more, ten years before there was any 
 organic "Calvinism" in France. The heresy was called 
 by other names, however erroneous the terms. A sweeping 
 edict went forth against the so-called "Lutherans" in the 
 south-west. Calvin was intensely at work, but the perse- 
 cuted were not recognized as his followers. It was not, 
 then, his name, his system, his organism or his spirit that 
 "provoked the edicts of persecution." Even before he for- 
 sook the Roman Church there was the same fiery diligence 
 employed against free thought and pure worship. 
 
 True, there was a "Calvinism" in France, but it was 
 secret. It passed under other names. It wanted consoli- 
 dation, a form, a church, a discipline. Its adherents gen- 
 erally clung to the papal organization. They were new 
 vines in the old vineyards, waiting to be transplanted. They 
 met in secret. If a minister ventured among them, he must 
 be kept hidden. They could not depend upon the minis- 
 trations of the papal clergy, except the few who were brav- 
 ing death and feeding the flock with the truth. "Many of 
 the priests are so ignorant," says a chronicler, "that they can 
 neither read nor write ; so lazy, that they have left off* 
 preaching altogether. They spend most of the day in 
 taverns, drinking and gambling." What they did at night 
 * De Tliou, Mezeray, Capefigue.
 
 A KISING GENERATION. 45 
 
 is too al)onniia])le for our pages. !Many in these flocks 
 sought greener pastures. " They assembled in fields, gar- 
 dens, barns, no matter where. . . . Their preachers were 
 butchers, bricklayers, publicans, and other venerable d(iC- 
 tiirs of that sort," is the satiric description of an old writer. 
 But the night was the time usually chosen for their meet- 
 ings. Then the labourers liad leisure, and the darkness 
 was their shield. Great mystery was used in giving the 
 summons ; a boy went whistling through the streets, or a 
 man carried a lantern of peculiar shape, or a thread hung 
 I'rom a window. They crept to the place, with muffled 
 voices sang their psalms, and then gave heed to the 
 Scriptures. 
 
 In higher quarters the same caution must be used. 
 Among the secret believers at court was the mother of 
 Coligny. She saw her sons giving promise of distinction. 
 When dying, in 1547, she refused the presence of a Romish 
 ])riest, saying, "God lias given me the grace of fearing and 
 loving him ; in his hands I am safe." Often were the 
 Psalmist's words on her lips, when she thought of her fa- 
 therless sons; "His mercy is from generation to generation 
 unto them that fear him " — a hope not entertained in vain.* 
 
 * Vila Colinii.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 JPROMOTIOXS AJS^J) I'JtOfJECTS. 
 (134.r~15.5G.) 
 
 'TT.THEN the young Duke of Orleans was dying, and 
 
 * T foes were threatening the kingdom, Francis I. walked 
 to the window and cried, " O my God ; thou hast already 
 smitten me in dimini.shing my power, and now thou takest 
 away my son. AVhat remains but that thou shouldst de- 
 stroy me altogether?" Once more he turned from indul- 
 gence to devotion; again he recognized the hand of God. 
 It was a specimen of the soi"t of fitful piety then prevailing 
 among the royal favourites. His son was laid in the tomb, 
 and from that day the king was of a sad countenance. A 
 fever was consuming his life. By rapid changes of abode, 
 he sought rest, but found it not. Coligny was one of his 
 faithful attendants. 
 
 Beseiged by courtesans and priests, the king was dying 
 at Rambouillet in 1547, at the age of fifty-two years. 
 Feeble was the regret of the Romanists, who re})roached 
 him for not having done enough for the Church, and thought 
 that he had erred in attempting to make himself " the father 
 of letters ; " still less was the regret of the Protestants,* 
 
 * The use of the term Protestanfs is of a later date in France, where, 
 indeed, it never became popular. A succession of terms was em- 
 ployed — Tjutherans, Sncramentarian!<, ChristatuUns, then Calvinists, Hu- 
 guenots, llelir/ionaries, Those of the Religion. They called themselves 
 Gospellers, The Faithful, The Reformed. They were not strictly the 
 followers of Luther, but of Lefevre, Fare! and Calvin. 
 
 46
 
 TKOMOTIONS AM) IMJOJECTS, 47 
 
 whom lie had sometimes treated with mildness, and some- 
 times persecuted with severity. The Dauphin Henry came 
 to his side, to hear his father's last advice, but not in a 
 spirit to follow it. The dying counsels were to this cflect: 
 " Do not recall ]Montmorency ; allow him to hold no office 
 in the state. Retain my ministers, Cardinal Tournon* and 
 Admiral Annel)aut. Cheek the ambition of the Guises. 
 Reduce the taxes. Make your reign jxipular. Above all, 
 do not favour ^[ontmorency ; never, never recall ^Montmo- 
 rcncy." 
 
 Never was l)roath more vainly spent. As soon as the 
 king was dead, Henry proceeded to give no heed whatever 
 to his father's instructions. He dismissed most of the offi- 
 cers of state. Calling to him his valiant young friend 
 Coiigny, he ordered him to send for his uncle. Andelot 
 rode post-haste with the message. Another account is, that 
 Henry sent a different courier, but Coiigny, anxious to bear 
 the glad tidings, mounted his liorse and was the first to 
 reach Chantilly.t ^lontmorency shed tears of grief at the 
 tidings of his master's death, and then retired to offer 
 prayers for the repose of his soul. It was characteristic of 
 the veteran warrior to be strict in the services of his devo- 
 tion. Then mounting a swift horse, he rode with all speed 
 to the palace of St. (Jernjain, where Henry had a|)j)ointed 
 to meet him. For two hours they were eloseted together, 
 
 * About ten years previous Calvin had written tlio famous dedica- 
 tion of his Institutes to Francis I. It was one of the most powerful 
 pleas for toleration ever penned. Cardinal Tournon told the kinp; 
 tliat suoh a letter was an outrage on his majesty and on the religion of 
 his fatliers. It was he who instigated the fierce persecutions against 
 the Keformed. To pray in the French language was declared a 
 crime, and to convei"se in secret a cause for arrest, l>y this favourite 
 minister of state. 
 
 t I'erau, Vic de Coiigny.
 
 48 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 and they tin-an*fcd their })lans. The new king paid him 
 every honour and reinstated him in all his former offices. 
 Again was the constable made grand-master of the palace, 
 minister of finance and chief counsellor. Not content with 
 such public marks of affection, Henry insisted upon paying 
 him all the salaries which were due from his lost offices, but 
 Montmorency replied: "Sir, it is not just that I should 
 receive rewards, when I have as yet performed for you no 
 labour. All I ask is a loan equal to two years' service." 
 Still Henry persisted, and paid to the constable one hun- 
 dred thousand golden crowns. What could have rendered 
 Coligny's prospects more bright than the restoration of his 
 uncle and the friendship of his king? And who was the 
 actual king but Montmorency? The sentiments of Henry 
 toward this imperious baron were those of a scholar who 
 looks upon his master with awe. The school of politics was 
 in a turbulent state ; a strong hand was needed to bring 
 order out of the chaos which gallantry, rivalry and selfish- 
 ness had produced. The young monarch threw the burden 
 upon Montmorenc)'-, and at his frown the court trembled. 
 In the cabinet there was a riddance of that craftiness whose 
 object was to bring France under the power of Rome and 
 of Spain. Whatever the faults of the constable, he had 
 the virtue of patriotism. He was a true Frenchman. The 
 women's faction Avas broken up, by giving Diana full sweep 
 and sending the Duchess d'Etampes into seclusion, where 
 she seems to have repented of her sins and adoiDted the 
 teachings of Calvin. She had used her great influence 
 over Francis I. to win favour for the Protestants. She was 
 permitted to " profess the Keformed religion " in her own 
 house publicly.* Her sister, Madame de Cany, became an 
 ornament of the Reformation. f The whole troop of ladies 
 
 * Vie de Coligny. 
 
 f Calvin's Letters, ccxxxii., ccxl., ccxcii., cccxix., etc.
 
 PROMOTIONS AND PROJECTS. 49 
 
 would liavc been bani.-^lied if Ileury had not opposed. The 
 crowd of prelates at the court was reduced. Only five of 
 the twelve cardinals were retained, Odet of Chatillon being 
 one of them. It was the fashion of the times to adopt 
 classic models : that of young Guise was Scipio ; that of 
 Montmorency was Cato the Censor. In two respects his 
 imitation was no failure: he was rude in his censures upon 
 evcrylxKly ; he was so avaricious that a generous impulse 
 would have amazed his friends. Coligny was not likely to 
 err from want of severe correction, nor to be ruined by a 
 surplus of spending-money ; not so long as his uncle took 
 the oversight of his morals and his revenues. 
 
 The recall of iMontmorency has been regarded as an 
 unwise and unfortunate policy. Varillas declares, " If 
 Henry II. had not restored the Constable IMontmorency, he 
 had not been obliged, in order to retrieve himself, to give 
 up one hundred and ninety-eight towns or fortresses, and 
 almost as much country as would make one-third of 
 France."* But there is another side of the case. There 
 is something more valuable than fortresses and territory : 
 it is national independence ; it is freedom from a foreign 
 yoke ; it is the averting of a religious despotism. France 
 might aflbrd to yield up some towns to get rid of a Cardinal 
 Tournon and the agents of the emperor. True, Rome and 
 Spain would send others to weave their nets, but one crisis 
 was past when Montmorency became master. The Spanish 
 Inquisition was not then introduced into France. 
 
 And yet the haughty baron was far from being a reformer. 
 The funeral of the late king was delayed almost a month, 
 and he thought all the pomp of burial worthy of the man 
 who had made heresy a crime and a terror. He must have 
 shaken his head at hearing the eulogy of the bishop of 
 Mayon, in his funeral oration: "After so holy a life," said 
 * Varilla-;, Hist, du E^gne de Henri II. 
 Vol. I. — 5
 
 50 ADMIKAL COI.IGNY. 
 
 the preaclicr (and what unmeant irony!}, " the soul of the 
 king was at once transplanted to heaven, without passing 
 through the flames of purgatory." 
 
 The doctors of the Sorbonne were astounded. " lie is a 
 secret heretic," they exclaimed. " He denies purgatory." 
 They went to Saint Germain to make their complaint in 
 the royal ear. Henry was absent, but the master of the 
 palace listened to them, and said with all courtesy, " Be 
 calm, messieurs ; if you had known the late king, my 
 master, as well as I did, you would have got the sense of 
 the bishop's words. He meant that if the king had made 
 a journey to purgatory, he was too restless to remain there 
 long."* The doctors were quite unmanned. They were 
 obliged to cease from the inquiry. Both the flatterer and 
 the jester reveal the shallowness of the religious convictions 
 then prevalent. 
 
 Nor had the royal son much deeper thoughts. Only a 
 few weeks passed before he allowed a great duel, or prize- 
 fight, to come off" for the entertainment of the court and 
 populace. On high seats sat the nobles ; the balconies were 
 filled with ladies. The great captains gazed upon the bar- 
 barous combat. At every blow shouts arose and trumpets 
 sounded. But there was one young man who had no heart 
 for the brutal amusement. He was silent, calm, thought- 
 ful. He was Coligny. We are astonished to see in that 
 court one man who meditates ! Had he plans more wise 
 or thoughts more ambitious ? AVe know not the depths of 
 his solemn mind.f 
 
 It is not a crime to be impartial. It is not our claim 
 that the young Coligny was entirely free from all the sins 
 amid which he lived, and whose presence he could not flee. 
 The age was one of lax habits; the court was a whirlpool 
 
 * Thuani, Historia. 
 
 f Lacratelle, Guerres de Religion.
 
 PROMOTIOXS AND PROJECTS. 51 
 
 of liceutiuusness. But many writers who charge him with 
 heresy and rebellion represent his youth as a model of 
 purity. They find nothing to expose, nor need we seek it. 
 "We simply admit that he may have been involved in some 
 of the follies of his companious. Yet in this period of his 
 life he was silent while most of them were boisterous, 
 serious while they dissij)atcd, wise while they played the 
 fool exceedingly, and careful to observe the rites of his 
 Church while they preferred the gallantries of the court. 
 Often did he say to his brothers, " We are prosperous be- 
 yond our deserts ; how strange it is that Heaven should so 
 higlily favour us !" 
 
 It is inii)urtant to notice the means by which the Reformed 
 doctrines were made known to the Chatillon brothers. 
 AVhile still in his disgrace at C'hantilly, Montmorency had 
 in view their good fortune, and he had a little private ad- 
 vice for Gaspard's ear. "Think," said he, " of Claudine 
 de Rieux, countess of Laval and Montfort. She has ad- 
 mirable graces, high birth and immense estates. A noble 
 alliance is a promotion." Perhaps Coligny was already 
 tliinklng of some one else. 
 
 " I thank you for your good-will," replied Coligny, after 
 taking his usual time to consider an important affair, "but 
 I prefer that my brother Andelot .<jhould give his thoughts 
 to tlie subject. It will better suit him." 
 
 " What ! is my advice to be thrown away, when I seek 
 your highest welfare?" The uncle was angry at his very 
 cool nephew. Not long after he sounded the younger 
 brotlier. "(live me a (juarter of an hour," said Andelot, 
 anil he hastened to get the opinion of Gaspard. Not all 
 l)rothers could manage an affair of rivalry so happily. 
 The younger accepted the situation, and the marriage was 
 celebrated in the year 1547. It was blessed of Heaven. 
 
 There were yet other attractions in the noble house of the
 
 52 ADMIRAL COLIGXY. 
 
 Lavals. Charlotte, a very near relative of Claudine, was 
 also the daughter of a count. Beauty and accomplish- 
 ments were among her lesser graces. Her wealth was not 
 in estates, but in Christian character. It appeai-s that she 
 was already devoted to the new doctrines, having learned 
 them, probably, from Margaret of Navarre. She had other 
 suitors — two or three princes of the blood ; but Coligny be- 
 gan to think in a way that soothed his uncle's resentment, 
 and the decision to which he came is shown by the record, 
 made many years later, in his own handwriting upon a 
 leaf in the prayer-book of his daughter Louisa :* " The 
 xvith day of October, 1547, Gaspard de Coligny, seigneur 
 of Chatillon, and since admiral of France, was married at 
 Fontainebleau, in fii-st marriage, to Charlotte de Laval." 
 Perhaps the influence of no wife upon her husband was 
 ever attended with greater results, personal, social, ecclesi- 
 astic and national. Of this the evidence awaits the reader. 
 
 Montmorency was appeased. He was again ready to 
 whisper the name of his nephews in the royal ear. Coligny 
 was one day summoned before the king, who said, " For 
 your bravery everywhere, your superior discipline and your 
 meritorious services at Cerisola and Boulogne, I confer 
 upon you another rank of knighthood. I give you the 
 collar of my order — that of St. Michael." 
 
 A mere courtier would have been elated with an honour 
 so highly esteemed in that day. But Coligny was more 
 pleased when the king said to him shortly afterward, " I 
 appoint you colonel-general of the French infantry," an 
 office so recently created that he seems to have been the 
 second who held it. 
 
 Glad to exchange the court for the camp, Coligny was 
 soon at his post in the field, where he gained the reputation 
 of being the best young officer in the army. His stcru 
 
 * Afterward the wife of William the Silent, Prince of Orange.
 
 PltOMl/riON'S AND PROJECTS. 03 
 
 sense of duty, his humanity and invincible courage were in 
 striking contrast to the gay, frivolous and even cruel dw- 
 l)osition of the young nobles of his times. 
 
 Tiie ranks of soldiers were largely filled by foreign merce- 
 naries, who cared Icas for victory than for plunder and riot- 
 ing. The Swiss could always be hired by whatever party 
 offered them most. They were idle, profane and dissipated 
 in camp ; when in active service they roamed as brigands 
 on their marches. Coligny had made a study of military 
 discipline, and had formed a system of rules, which he re- 
 solved to test by practice. "Having written out many 
 rules which he thought necessary both for the service of 
 God and of his king, he showed them to the prince (Henry 
 II.), so that he might adopt and publish them to the whole 
 army. The most excellent of them, in my opinion, was 
 one for the defence of God's name from profanation. The 
 love of wine and of evil associates reigned equally among 
 them ; they thouglit it an ornament of their discourse to 
 take the name of God in vain. ' You make your courage 
 consist in swearing,' he said to them. ' It is a wicked bold- 
 ness. It docs not become a man of war.' " * The Cheva- 
 lier Bayard had made a similar rule for his soldiers. 
 
 "He would make himself a little general," said certain 
 of them whom he had rebuked for sleeping through the 
 dawn, and even until midday. 
 
 " It should be the custom of the soldier to rise with his 
 colonel," he replied. l']arly rising was not one of his nat- 
 
 * Courtiltz, Vie de Coligny, Brantonic. As a specimen, we quote 
 tlie severe rule on profanity: " P^t, par expres et siir toutes cliose.>», 
 ili-fi'iulu i\ tons soldats de ue jurer, doreiiavant, de blasplit^ines ^n- 
 onncs et exi'crables, siir peine, la premiere foys, de tenir prison huit 
 jours dinanl au pain et a I'ean ; la seconde, faire amende honorable 
 pnV)li4uenieiit, on ehoniise et li jjenonx, un torche alhimi' au puing." 
 Puaux, Hint. </(• la RcJ. France, II. 
 5*
 
 54 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 ural traits. Bevault had taken great pains to cure his 
 fondness for sleep, and it had clung to him after he entered 
 the army. When passing whole nights on his horse he 
 almost shrank from the hardship, sometimes wishing that 
 he had taken the part which his brother Odet had chosen. 
 To inure himself he had ordered his valet to wake him at 
 various hours as he rested in camp. Now his habit was 
 formed, and he made it a law in his regiment. He had a 
 fixed hour for rising in the morning, whether in camp or 
 on the march to battle; one object was that he might have 
 time for his devotions. " The first thing he did on leaving 
 his couch was to kneel before a crucifix and spend a quarter 
 of an hour in prayer. In this he would allow nothing to 
 interrupt him, for he believed that God would not favour 
 those who forgot him. Then he dressed himself and at- 
 tended to his horses, to which he exhibited great kindness. 
 An excellent horseman and fond of riding, he then spent an 
 hour in this exercise, when the day was to be one of rest. 
 Much of his leisure he sjient in reading, and few men were 
 better versed in history. "While a Roman Catholic he at- 
 tended mass, the chief service of his Church in that age. 
 He was moved less by a desire to please the king than to 
 please God. He had a delicacy of religious sentiment rare 
 in his time, and especially at the court. He lived much as 
 one who had renounced the world, and who never forgot 
 that he must die."* 
 
 His rules extended to the minute points of the drill, the 
 march, the siege, the battle, the care of the dead and the 
 treatment of an enemy. When first introduced there were 
 some soldiers who were disposed to test his firmness in ad- 
 hering to them. They violated them. In order to show 
 that his penalties were not empty threats, he began to make 
 an example of the worse offenders. Among them was one 
 * Courtiltz, Vie de Coligny.
 
 PROMOTIONS A.VD rHOJEfTS. O.J 
 
 who belungcd to the town of Chatillon, and hi.s cousin was 
 master of Coligny's house or castle. "Spare him," en- 
 trcuted the nui.ster, who had come to the relief of his rela- 
 tive; "he is my cousin." 
 
 " For that very reason he shall have less grace than the 
 others," replied Coligny. " He knows me and my discip- 
 line better than they do. If you imagine that relation>hip 
 is an excuse for crime, and if you plead for him only on 
 this ground, you will not be kept in my service a quarter 
 of an hour longer." The penalty was inflicted ; the result 
 was a general reformation of manners.* 
 
 "He has a little court about him, as if he were a great 
 general," said sc>me of the envious. " He simply cultivates 
 the friendship of his fellow-officers," replied those who under- 
 stood the matter. The fact was, he drew them to him by 
 the attractions of his character, his artlessnes.s, his frank- 
 ness, his unassuming conduct, and even by his strictness of 
 discipline. He was training his men into a legi(m that 
 would Start to their feet at his call, follow him on the most 
 tedious march, rush furiously to the charge at his command, 
 and make their presence an assurance of victory. When- 
 ever desperate work was to be done the cry was, "Give us 
 Coligny's regiment!/' He was the Havelock of his age. 
 
 His regimental rules were so effective that they gained 
 him favour among the common people, who sought relief 
 from pillage and insult. They were adopted as a part of 
 the military code. ]irantome wrote at a later day: "It 
 was he who regulated the French infantry by those fine 
 rules that we still have of his, and which are printed, prac- 
 ticed, read and published among our bands. Captains and 
 others, even of the contrary party, when any difficulty of 
 war arose, would say, ' In this we must be guided by the 
 rules and regulations of monsieur the admiral.' They 
 
 * Brantome, Courtiltz.
 
 56 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 were right ; they were the most elegant and the wisest 
 that ever were made in France, and I believe they have 
 preserved the lives of millions of persons, to say nothing 
 of their goods and property. For, before, it was nothing 
 but pillage, brigandage, murders, quarrels and brutality, so 
 that the troops resembled hordes of wild Arabs, rather than 
 noble soldiers.* This, then, is the obligation the world owes 
 to this eminent person." 
 
 He is said to have been the first to })lan a hospital for 
 the French army. In truth, he was devoted to human im- 
 provement in all its forms. Ranke, speaking of his disci- 
 pline in the army, adds : " With the same determination, 
 he cared for the condition of his troops. He comioelled the 
 enemy to carry on the war according to the law of nations 
 by the most impartial reprisals, and was almost terrible in 
 his conduct toward the peasantry who laid hands on his 
 soldiers." The cottager found in him a protector and the 
 warrior a defender. It is not therefore surprising that he 
 was exceedingly pojiular among the citizens, who were saved 
 from violence, and the soldiers, who were kept from insult. 
 A man who thus protects the rights of all parties is above 
 the selfishness of the demagogue, and ought to be defended 
 from the shafts of all accusers. 
 
 The king, " taking a great liking to him," entrusted him 
 with the military command of Picardy, and, not long after- 
 ward, with that of the Isle de France. In the one lay 
 Boulogne, in the other Paris. He soon was made a mem- 
 ber of the state and privy council. 
 
 * "Tlie peasants hardly dei<;ned to shut the doors of their cellars 
 and granaries against the soldiers, who behaved most becomingly. 
 "When quartered in the villages they did not venture to take a pullet 
 without asking leave and paying for it." — Claude JInton, whose Chron- 
 icle is one of the valuable Documents sur I'llistoire de France. (Con- 
 sulted in the Boston Athenseum.)
 
 PROMOTIONS AND PKOJECTS. 57 
 
 The nortlierii coast roiiuirod uttontiuii. In a treaty which 
 gave the English the right to hohl Boulogne for eight years 
 it was agreed that no new fortifications should be built. 
 Ikit the French saw a strong embankment growing rapidly 
 out into the sea, and knew it was not a result of nature. 
 One day two French officers came near the workmen and 
 said, " Your fort advances apace." 
 
 "No fort," replied Lcjrd Grey and his comrades; "it is 
 a jetty to amend the haven, to save both your ships and 
 ours." 
 
 " Yea, but you intend to place ordnance upon it." 
 " To what end ? Whereunto should we shoot?" 
 " Well, seeing it is no fort, you may do what you will ; 
 but if it was a fortress, we neither might nor would in any 
 case endure it." The parties then began to talk about the 
 Protestants, who were shaking the world. 
 
 The work went on. Coligny, who had heard his king 
 say, " I will recover Boulogne or lose my realm for it," and 
 who thought that his own plans miglit have secured it if 
 they had been adopted, was ordered to checkmate the 
 English. Choosing the high ground, he raised a singular 
 kind of fort, near enough to command the town and har- 
 bour. So ingeniously was it constructed that for a century 
 after it bore the name of Chatillon, from its contriver. 
 While his soldiers were securing the corn and cattle of the 
 region, his guns prevented the enemy frc»m obtaining sup- 
 plies of bread by sea, and even fuel from the shores. This 
 fort gave such advantage to the besiegei-s, tliat Sir Paget 
 wrote to London, saying of the French : " They will have 
 Boulogne, they say, by fair means or foul. . . . Rochefort 
 [maternal uncle of Coligny] braggeth that their king is not 
 a King John, but a French king, such as conquered Rome, 
 and been feared of the rest; and he telleth us how we are 
 in poverty and mutinies at home, beset all about with ene-
 
 58 ADMIllAL COLIGNY. 
 
 mies. ... It is good to consider whether it be better to let 
 them have Boulogne again, and to live in peace."* 
 
 The Frenchman Avas not bragging without reason. He 
 had another nephew besetting England upon the northern 
 side. Andelot had been appointed inspector-general of 
 infantry and sent to Scotland, along with other officers. 
 He was helping to solve the question whether Mary Stuart 
 should become the wife of Edward VI. or of Francis 11. 
 The Scots said that they did not dislike the match with 
 Edward, but hated the manner of wooing. The French 
 were more artfid. While their soldiers were driving and 
 burning the ]']nglish . out of Eastern Scotland, they slyly 
 seirt a fleet from Leith, on the pretence of going to France, 
 but in fact running round the Orkneys, entering the Clyde 
 and capturing the young princess in the castle of Dumbar- 
 ton, not against her will, for her mother was a Guise. The 
 child of six years, the valued prize, was taken on board the 
 royal galley. The fleet lay for some time off" the coast, and 
 Lady Fleming asked that Mary might seek a little rest ou 
 shore. 
 
 "No," replied the captain, Villegagnon — of whom more 
 on other pages — " she shall not go on land, but to France, 
 or else drown by the way." August winds bore her into 
 the harbour of Brest, whence she was taken to the palace 
 of St. Germain.f "What an eventful life was in reserve 
 for Mary of Scots ! " So," wrote John Knox, " she was 
 sold to go into France, to the end that in her youth she 
 should drink of that liquor that should remain with her all 
 her lifetime — a plague to the realm, and for her own final 
 destruction."! 
 
 * Vita Colinii ; Burnet, Hist. Ref. ; Froudc, Hist, of England, vol. v. 
 t Peraii, Vie d'Andelot ; Vie de Pierre Strozzi ; Tytler, Hist, of 
 Scotland, vol. vi ; Fronde, Hist, of England, vol. v. 
 X Knox, Hist, of Reformation.
 
 I'KOMOTIOX.S ANI> I'KOJKCTS. 59 
 
 This diversion gave Coligny still greater advantage at 
 Boulogne, for it placed England between two fires. All 
 parties agreed to a treaty, whose terms, on the Freneh side, 
 were arranged by Coligny and his uncle Kochefort, greatly 
 to the advantage of France. 
 
 New troubles arose in Italy. Andelot was one of the 
 brave captains sent to maintain the old claims upon Milan, 
 for which his grandfather had battled. In this war he was 
 to gain spiritual liberty. AVhen foraging near Parma, and 
 burdened with })lunder, his troops fell into an and)iiscade, 
 an<l, after a rough fight, he was taken prisoner and carried 
 off to j\Iilan. There he was to remain while five years 
 should wear away and fierce wars rage throughout Europe. 
 
 In his prison he asked for books, and we have some hints 
 of the way in which he obtained certain writings of John 
 Calvin and other Reformers. 
 
 There was one princess ever ready to help any French- 
 man who came to distress in Italy. She was Rcnee, Duch- 
 ess of Ferrara. She often said that if the old Salic law 
 had not denied to a daughter the right of royal succession, 
 she would have ruled over France. IIa])py for that land 
 if she had worn the crown ! Then no Medici, no Charles 
 IX., none of that brood on the throne! Her slaughter, 
 Anne, had nuirried Francis of Guise, and yet that andii- 
 tious house could not t(>mj)t her from the ]iath of simple, 
 earnest i>iety. AVhen her son-in-law was called to the siege 
 of Calais, leaving a shattered army to the mercy of the 
 emperor, she had the credit of saving ten thousand of them 
 from death. "As they passed through Ferrara," says 
 Brantome, "she did her utmost to supply them with money 
 and medicines." 
 
 "You will bring yourself to poverty," said her chiding 
 steward, who was coming to the end of his purse. ""What 
 of that?" was her reply. "These are poor Frenchmen,
 
 60 ADMIKAL COLIGNY. 
 
 and my countrymen, and, if God had made me a man, 
 they would all have been my subjects; indeed they would 
 be now if that unjust Salic hiw did not bear so hard upon 
 me."* 
 
 How did she hear of Andelot in prison ? Through the 
 French court, or by letters from his wife, or himself? Per- 
 haps by all these modes. It seems that she and her friends 
 secretly conveyed books to him, and that at the very time 
 Avhen she was annoyed by the spying Jesuits and under 
 the ban of the duke and the pope. His guards did not 
 have a close eye upon the packages which slipped through 
 their hands. He opened them. "What heresies ! Yet, 
 having nothing else to do, he read the writings of Calvin 
 with curiosity, then interest, then conviction.f " And it 
 was there," says Brantome, " he learned his fine religion, 
 for, having naught else to do, he set himself to reading, and 
 had all sorts of books brought to him — for the Inquisition 
 was not so tight then as it has been since — and there he 
 learned the new religion, though, indeed, he had got a first 
 scent of it during the Protestant wars in Germany [and 
 Scotland]. Such are the sad fruits of leisure and idleness!" 
 He concludes, pathetically: "So many evil things does she 
 teach us, of which we have cause ever afterward to repent." 
 The gossipping chronicler had very little religion of any sort 
 to trouble him with repentance. 
 
 Andelot is said to have written letters to his brothers, 
 advising them to get and read the same books. But he 
 must first prove that he had a steadfast faith, and there 
 must be another captivity, before his advice would take 
 effect. In turning the key for his release his brother Gas- 
 pard was to have a hand. 
 
 * Gi^iivres de Clement Marot ; Bayle ; Memorials of the Duchess 
 Kenee, London, 1859. 
 
 t Perau, Vie de Seigneur d'Andelot.
 
 TROMOTIONS AND PROJECTS. Gl 
 
 It would be delightful to believe that Henry II. did not 
 breathe threatening and slaughter against "those of the 
 new way" in religion. But the proofs of his violence are 
 found throughout the whole twelve years of his reign. He 
 sought to com])k'te the terrible work, which his father had 
 begun, against the Waldenses and their brethren in the 
 southern j)rovinces of France. Hamlets and towns were 
 swept out of existence. Even in I'aris the burning-places 
 were kept ready for new victims. 
 
 When Henry and Catharine returned from the corona- 
 tion at Kheims — July 20, 1547 — the tournaments did not 
 satisfy their partisans. They wished a baptism of blood 
 on the joy-ous occasion. The royal consent was easily ob- 
 tained. There was no lack of heretics in the prisons. 
 Four poor, brave Christaudins were chosen for the stake. 
 One of them was a tailor, thrown into prison for having 
 worked on a holiday and spoken some ill words against the 
 Church of Rome. It appears that he had been in the 
 king's service. "Let me question some of the heretics," 
 said Henry ; " it will be a pastime." 
 
 " Biing in the tailor," was the order of the Cardinal of 
 Lorraine. "The fellow will not be able to utter a sensible 
 word. It will be amusing to us all." The poor man was 
 brought; he stood before the court with great presence of 
 mind. He proved too well versed in 8cripture for the king 
 to manage. He put the priests to silence. He perplexed 
 a bishop who was present. He dispelled their hope of 
 amusement at his expense. Diana of Poitiers undertook 
 to silence him with her raillery, but, says Crespin, "the 
 sempster soon cut her cloth in a ditl'erent fashion to that 
 she expected; fur, not being able to endure such inordinate 
 arrogance in her, whom he knew to be the cause of such 
 cruel persecutions, he said to her: ' Re.^t contented, niad- 
 ame, that you have infected all France, withouti^ mixing 
 Vol. I.— 6
 
 62 ADMIRAL COLIGXY. 
 
 your own venom and filth in so sacred and holy a thing as 
 the religion and truth of our Lord Jesus Christ.' She 
 cringed." 
 
 "Let him be burned alive," exclaimed the angered king. 
 The order was gratifying to the agents of cruelty. The 
 stake was fixed in front of the palace. Henry stood in his 
 window and gazed upon the victim, who cast upon him such 
 a look of calm rebuke that he retired, frightened lest the 
 judgment of God should fall upon him. That look, that 
 mute but terrible accusation, followed him wherever he 
 went. For many a night he seemed to behold the image of 
 the dying man. He swore never to be present again at 
 such horrible scenes, and he almost kept his word. A more 
 Christian king would have put an end to them. But the 
 savage work went on, in the hope of terrifying the people. 
 The result was an increase of believers in the Gospel. 
 Crowds came to see men die for their faith ; they went 
 home to mourn and muse. The humane were shocked ; 
 they gave their sympathies to the resistless martyrs ; they 
 admired the hei'oism of faith ; they inquired what it was 
 that made others so ready to die and so triumphant in the 
 awful conflict. The very ashes of the Place de Greve were 
 seed sown for the measureless harvest of God. 
 
 And yet the king seemed to have two hands, two sets of 
 principles, opposed to each other. The interests of the 
 Cluirch must yield to those of the State. It was the rule 
 of kingcraft. The policies of war were framed by no law. 
 JNIaurice of Saxony roused the German Protestants against 
 the emperor Charles V. and led them to war, appealing to 
 Henry H. to render him aid. The French king could not 
 in honour refuse. If he did, it Avoukl be charged that he 
 was afraid of the great enemy who sought to make all 
 Eurojjc his empire. Henry called together his councillors. 
 " We must assist the Protestants of Germany," was the
 
 PROMOTION'S AND PROJECTS. 63 
 
 ])uri)ort of one broatli. " We nui.st criisli out Protestantism 
 in France," was the jjurport of the next. AVith one hand 
 he \vas about to strike a severe blow at the papaov, and 
 with the other attempt to soothe the wound. Luther wouhl 
 have good cause to rejoice in the aid rendered to German 
 liberty; Calvin must lament the oppression undrr whicli 
 his French followers were groaning. It is a singular cir- 
 cumstance that the Keformation in Germany should owe a 
 debt of gratitude to a king who persecuted his own subjects 
 at home with all the fierceness of bigotry.* Coligny served 
 in the campaign as an officer of high rank, paving the way 
 for still higher promotion. 
 
 By the wiles of ^Montmorency and by the soldiers' cour- 
 age France was regaining her lost towns. Charles V. took 
 up his march with a most fearful train of artillery, saying, 
 " I will take Metz, or perish in the attempt." Couriers 
 came to Henry with the alarming news. As Coligny was 
 now the acting admiral, having an eye .equally upon the 
 cavalry and the infantry, he expected to be ordered to the 
 work of defence. But the commission was given to Francis 
 of Guise. 
 
 The time had beeiLwheu Coligny would have rejoiced in 
 the advancement of his young comrade. But Guise had 
 begun to reveal his jealousy and ambition ; he had mut- 
 tered his displeasure when Coligny was promoted ; he had 
 been born with a hatred to the house of Montmorency in 
 his heart, and, as the iron blood of Guise had but recently 
 become golden, he affected a contempt for the nobler anil 
 more ancient house of Chatillon. "With a drop of Bourbon 
 in his veins he coveted the title of a prince of the blood. 
 !Might he not possibly be, one day, king of France? and 
 his brother Charles, the cardinal, pope in Rome ? It was a 
 mystery to Coligny that Francis Guise should be chosen 
 * Perau, Vie de Coligny ; Sleidan ; Thuanus.
 
 64 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 for the defence. " What is my ambitious will ?" thought 
 he ; " there is a Providence." 
 
 The choice was made. Guise went to Metz. He almost 
 destroyed the city in preparing to defend it. Churches and 
 convents were levelled to make a battle-field. The little 
 band of Protestants there had no mercy shown them.* He 
 aided in throwing up breastworks with his own hands. He 
 won the applause of the soldiers and the praises of the 
 citizens, who hoped to resist the emperor's hundred thou- 
 sand men. At length the enemy opened fire ; some of the 
 walls were broken ; the awful charge was made, and met 
 as Charles had not expected. The tide of battle was rolled 
 back, and the emperor retired to his quarters, complaining 
 that he was deserted by his troops, who acted as cowards 
 and no longer deserved the name of men. Rain and snow 
 had their effect upon the besiegers. The old emperor was 
 foiled by the young duke, and he resolved to retreat, saying, 
 " I now perceive that Fortune chooses to confer her favours 
 upon young suitors, scorning those who are advanced in 
 
 * William Farel, the pastor at Neufchatel, had come to preach a 
 short time at ]\Ietz, but was obliged to desist. He retired to the 
 neighbouring town of Gorze, where he would be protected b)' Count 
 William of Furstenberg. In spite of the attacks of furious women, 
 he preached with success. Many Protestants from Metz came to hear 
 him. This enraged the Romanists of that city, and tliey laid a plot 
 to massacre him and his hearers. The Duke of (iuise sent a company. 
 of soldiers to fall upon the congregation. Three hundred of these in- 
 nocent people were celebrating (he Lord's Supper. The service had 
 scarcely closed when they heard the trumpet ; the band of soldiers 
 fell upon them, put some to the sword and drove others into the river, 
 where they were drowned. Farel was wounded. He and Count 
 William barely got into the castle. Even there, Farel was not safe, 
 and he was put into a wagon with some wounded men and sent 
 to Strasburg. This was one of the first of Guise's butcheries. The 
 French king refused to bring the murderers to justice. — Kirchhofer, 
 Leben Farels.
 
 PROMOTIONS AND PROJECTS. 65 
 
 years." All France rnng with the fame of the Duke of 
 Guise, 
 
 Another young man was waitinj^ to give the emperor a 
 rebuff. Coligny, having been sent towarfl Fianfler?", re- 
 pelled him from Doullens, and faced him again at Keiity, 
 where both ])artios claimed tlic victory. It was necessary, 
 however, for Charles to rt'treat, and but for the excellence 
 of his horse, Coligny might have had the great monarch as 
 a prisoner. But history does not consist in what iniglit 
 have been, and we will not speculate. The long campaign 
 had its end, and soldiers went home to tell at their firesides 
 how Coligny applied his severe rules; how he went into 
 battle witii a i)rayer and came out with a thanksgiving; 
 how he often restrained the troops from pillage and from 
 outrages upon the citizens; and how, wlien his uncle or- 
 dered the sack of a Flemish town and gave liim the booty, 
 he divided it among the soldiers. He was now fully con- 
 firmed as the admiral of France. lie had command of 
 the entire sea-coast and the border fortresses. "The ad- 
 miral of France was rather a titular than an executive of- 
 ficcr, and more generally, as Coligny, employed in military 
 than naval service."t 
 
 Admiral Coligny was mainly entrusted with the forming 
 of several treaties, one of which created more noise "in the 
 breach than in the observance." It was a " treaty of truce," 
 brought about on this wise. Charles V., the emperor, was 
 j)reparing to abdicate, but he wished to smooth the ])ath 
 for his son Philip, and strew it witii flowers of peace. Com- 
 missioners from him and Henry II. were labouring to get 
 the advantage of each other, and thus secure an exchange 
 of prisoners. They were entertained by the monks in the 
 Abbey of Vaucelles, near Cambray. If the parties at war 
 could exchange prisoners, why could they not make a truce, 
 * Rnnki'ii, Tlistorv of Fnuioo, Bk. vi., cli. v, 
 6«
 
 66 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 and prevent any more soldiers from being captured or 
 killed ? They agreed upon a truce for five years. Count 
 Lalain came to Blois to get the signature of Henry. Ad- 
 miral Coligny was sent to Brussels to be present when 
 Charles and Philip should bind themselves by oath to keep 
 the peace. As for the pope, he must make the best of if, 
 however much he desired to see the war prolonged. He 
 was anxious to drive the Spaniards out of Italy, and Henry 
 II. had sworn to aid him in the expulsion, but the truce of 
 Vaucelles cut off the hope of French assistance. 
 
 Coligny took his journey into the land where "William 
 the Silent was soon to lay the foundations of the Dutch Re- 
 public. These two most remarkable men had just been 
 leading armies against each other on the frontier. Did 
 they meet at the court in Brussels? If so, they did little 
 more than study one another. Each was too cautious and 
 silent a man to invite an acquaintance under such circum- 
 stances. Coligny was ushered into the presence of Philip, 
 and one of his attendants reported to his royal master "an 
 instance of Philip's unpoliteness." The apartment was 
 hung with tapestry, which represented the battle of Pavia, 
 the manner in which Francis I. was taken prisoner by 
 Charles Y., his painful voyage to Spain, and all the most 
 mortifying incidents of his captivity in the prisons of Mad- 
 rid. It was an insult, and the Frenchman who could endure 
 it without seeming to notice, and without publishing it to 
 the world, might well be named Coligny the Silent. There 
 were compensations, however, for this disrespect. All was 
 joy in the Netherlands; the bells rang forth the people's 
 gratitude for peace. There was feasting in the guild-halls ; 
 there was the roasting of whole oxen on the public squares ; 
 the streets of cities ran red with wine, whei'e soon the blood 
 of the citizens should flow ; triumphal arches were raised 
 to adorn Philip's pathway, and even cold February sup-
 
 PROMOTIONS AND I'UO.IECTS. G7 
 
 ])lieJ a profusion of flowers to strew at his feet. And yet 
 lie seemed more sullen than ever, as if it were insulting for 
 tliose to rejoice whom he intended to make the victims of 
 oppression and cruelty.* 
 
 By tliis treaty, Andelot and his cousin Francis Montmo- 
 rency were set at liberty, yet not without paying an enor- 
 mous ransom. Poor llobert la March ! Duke of Bouillon 
 and high officer as he was, he could not pay the sum re- 
 (juired without selling his estates. The avaricious Philip 
 demanded that his wife and daughter take his place in a 
 Flemish prison until he could pay the amount. Nor did 
 they hesitate. Exchanging places at the dungeon doors, 
 they were in the hands of a merciless tyrant, and he went 
 into Picardy. Suddenly he fell into convulsions and died. 
 The physicians pronounced it a case of poison. Had Philip 
 caused it? None could tell ; but he had violated t\ve laws 
 of war in the treatment of the wife and daughter. A 
 general indignation and mistrust were the result. The out- 
 rage was a token of the short duration of the truce.f 
 
 * Mntlev, Diitcli Rc'piil)lio, i. 154. 
 f Lacratelle, Guerrcs de Religion.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FROM CAMP TO PUTS OX, 
 (1.550—1557.) 
 
 THE desire to shoot a few poor birds was to open the way 
 for breaking the truce of Yaucelles. At Rome the 
 Spanish ambassador was rejoicing in the peace, and as he had 
 little else to do but keep it, he resolved upon hunting ex- 
 cursions and feasting upon game. It was his habit to leave 
 the city early in the morning, with his servants, horses and 
 hounds, and sport with his fowling-piece. The gates were 
 opened at his word. But one morning, by accident or de- 
 sign, he was refused an exit. He reasoned and begged, but 
 the guard was unmoved by his logic and his pleadings. 
 Unwilling to lose his day's sport, and enraged at the insult 
 to his dignity, he fired the hearts of his attendants, and they 
 fell upon the soldiers, beat them shamefully, mastered them, 
 passed through the gate, and he took his morning's amuse- 
 ment.* 
 
 The sorely-beaten guards ran with their story to "the 
 holy father," Paul IV., whom truth portrays as " a fierce, 
 peevish, querulous and quarrelsome dotard." It is enoiigh 
 to say that he was a Caraffa, a lover of the Spanish Inqui- 
 sition, but a hater of the Spaniards. The pope was furious 
 over the affair at the city gate. His nephew, " the master- 
 spirit and principal mischief-maker of the papal court," 
 Cardinal Caraffa, added fuel to the flame. Once a Avild 
 and dissolute soldier, he was able to supply the oaths, while 
 
 * Motley's Rise of the Dutcli Republic, vol. i. p. 160. 
 68
 
 FROM CAMP TO PRISON'. GO 
 
 liis uncle raved at the Spaniards as "heretics, schismatics, 
 accursed of God, tlie spawn of Jews and Moors, the very 
 dregs of the earth." The papal eyes were opened. The 
 truce of Vaucelles was thought to be one of the nets of the 
 sharp-sighted emperor, which Henry II. had sprung over 
 Home. The Spaniards were making havoc in the city, and 
 the French king had bound himself to let them alone! But 
 tlie truce must be broken. 
 
 The snipe-shooting envoy returned to his quarters and 
 robed himself for the papal presence, that he might explain 
 tiie slight mistake. But the pope refused to give him a 
 hearing. " Behold, how great a matter a little fire kin- 
 dleth !" When war is wanted, a trifling misunderstanding 
 calls for blows and blood. Cardinal CarafTa, who was no 
 novice in the arts of intrigue, was sent post-haste to Paris. 
 
 "Are you not the protector of the papal chair, and of 
 the Carafia family in particular?" inquired the overheated 
 cardinal. 
 
 " It is my pride thus to be called," answered King Henry. 
 " I was crowned as the most Catholic king." 
 
 "What, then, means that truce of Vaucelles? The 
 S]»aniards are upon us, and yet you have sworn to keep 
 hands off them for five years." 
 
 " That was merely a little happy arrangement for our 
 good in another climate. It only ai)plies to Flan<lei"s. As 
 it was made without consulting the pope, it is not infallible. 
 jNIy secret league with the holy father is of older date, and 
 may be of stronger force. True, I have sworn not to make 
 war upon Philip, and my conscience — " 
 
 "The matter of conscience can be happily arranged," 
 said the wily legate. " I have power from the p()i)e to 
 absolve you from your oath. And if you fear that the 
 ])ope may die — for he is old and frail — and that a revolu- 
 tion may follow his death, we can remove this obstacle. I
 
 70 ADMIRAL COLIGNY, 
 
 will engage my uncle, the pope, to nominate cardinals who 
 will favour you, and thus enable you to place in the papal 
 chair one who will promote your intci'ests." By such in- 
 trigues were popes often elected for political purposes. 
 What a means of securing infallibility! 
 
 Henry was wrapt in sober thought. Montmorency had 
 told him that it might be a ruinous policy to break the 
 truce. The oath was safe ; as to its being sacred, he did 
 not care so much. Break it, and war must follow. But 
 the Guises joined with Caraffa ; Catherine began to have 
 influence enough to make her voice heard in behalf of her 
 native Italy; Diana brought up the reserved force of argu- 
 ments ; and Henry yielded : " I will be absolved ; I will 
 sign a new league with the pope." * 
 
 " You delight me. You will not leave the pontiff at the 
 mercy of the Spaniard. You will send an army into Italy." 
 Caraffa artfully gained his point. He was honoured with 
 a public ovation, and as the people pressed near to get his 
 blessing he smiled upon them, muttering to those who rode 
 at his side, " Let us fool these poor creatures to their hearts' 
 content, since they will be fools." 
 
 Henry summoned his counsellors. Among them were 
 Admiral Coligny and Francis, Duke of Guise, warm 
 friends in their youth, but in their manhood somewhat 
 chilled in heart and distant in their greetings. Coligny 
 took sides with those who advised the king not to send an 
 army into Italy. The truce of Vaucelles was sacred ; 
 upon honour he had sheathed the sword ; with weariness 
 he had ridden to Brussels to get a royal signature. " It 
 
 * " The pope, apprehending the preparations which were made by 
 the Spaniards in tlie realm of Naples, had recourse unto tlie French 
 king and to the forces of France, the ancient refuge of popes op- 
 pressed. This was an occasion to break the truce." — Turquet, HiS' 
 torie of Spaine.
 
 FROM CAMP TO PRIHOX. 71 
 
 would be perjury to break the peace," said he, bohlly — "a 
 perjury fatal to the kingdom. God has iu all ages been a 
 severe avenger of such a crime." 
 
 "It is not preaching that his majesty needs," \\c hear 
 Guise replying; "policy is to be consulted." 
 
 " The safety of the holy father is the first of all consider- 
 ations," adds the Cardinal of Lorraine, who secretly wished 
 to advance the Guises by having his brother sent in defence 
 of the pope. 
 
 " We must defend our oath of peace, or God will not 
 defend us," is Coligny's view of the subject. " The pope is 
 to us in the jilace of God," replies Lorraine — a doctrine 
 which Coligny no longer believed. 
 
 " No more theology, if you please," we hear the veteran 
 Montmorency say ; " for war is the question. I cannot 
 advise it. The kingdom is not prepared for it." 
 
 Henry did not long waver in his choice. He had already 
 plighted his fiiith to the Guises. He ordered Strozzi, his 
 wife's Italian cousin, to hasten with some troops to Rome, 
 and the Duke of Guise to organize a regular army. AVe 
 shall not follow them in their campaigns. The honest 
 heart of Coligny was pained when he saw such reckless- 
 ness of oaths that ought to be sacred, and such a disregard 
 of God, to whom they were made. From this hour he 
 understood the Guises, and they hated him with all their 
 soul.* 
 
 The admiral returned to his government of Picardy, to 
 prepare for war in the very face of that peace which he 
 had so lately pledged his honour to maintain. He would 
 not strike the first blow. He put himself on the defensive. 
 The crisis swiftly approached. The perfidy of Henry II. 
 was soon reported at Brussels. The Spanish Philip had 
 married Mary, but he was not sure that he liad won Eng- 
 
 * lyAiivigiiy, \'i(j de (-iui.se; Coniaton (?), MciiU)irc's de L'olliguy.
 
 72 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 land. The fire kindled in Europe from Naples to Calais 
 might melt the jewels of the crown just received from his 
 father the emperor. Charles might find a retreat among 
 the monks of Yuste, and do penance for his sins of ambi- 
 tion and war, but his son must go on repeating the sins and 
 striving for the empire of the world. Philip had reason to 
 set at naught the five years' truce of Vaucelles, and he 
 renewed the contest with France. He sent a herald, after 
 the ancient fashion, to inform the French king that war 
 was proclaimed against France. The herald stood in the 
 cajiital and in the presence of the court, and talked in such 
 a bold tone of defiance that the flaming old constable, 
 Montmorency, wished to make short work of his insolence, 
 and strongly urged his master to hang the envoy on the 
 spot. Philip was in England, coldly visiting his unamiable 
 wife, and with great difficulty securing British troops for 
 the war. He put his army under Philibert, Duke of Savoy, 
 a brave young hunter of men, who had been known "to 
 eat, drink and sleep in his armour for thirty days together." 
 Instead of paying his addresses to the half-Protestant Prin- 
 cess Elizabeth of England, he must take the field and 
 besiege some of the great towns on the northern borders of 
 Picardy. 
 
 The eye of Coligny was upon the movements of the Duke 
 of Savoy, whom he knew to be ready to crush him by any 
 means in his power. The admiral had advanced his forces 
 toward the city of Douay, before the formal declaration of 
 war, assured that a larger army would soon be on the 
 march, under his uncle Montmorency, his brother Francis 
 of Andelot, now the colonel-general of infantry, and the 
 young Louis de Bourbon, Prince of Conde. Motley relates 
 the success of the attempt upon Douay in terms which en- 
 liven history with the charms of vivid portraiture: 
 
 " It happened that a certain banker of Lucca, an ancient
 
 FllOM CAMl' TO I'HISOX. 73 
 
 gambler and debauchee, whom evil courses had reduced 
 from affluence to penury, had taken up his abode upon a 
 hill overlooking the city of Douay. Here he had built 
 himself a hermit's cell. Clad in sackcloth, with a rosary 
 at his waist, he was accustomed to beg his bread from door 
 to door. His garb was all, however, which he possessed of 
 sanctity, and he had passed his time in contemplating the 
 weak points in the defences of the city with much more mi- 
 nuteness than those of his own heart. Upon the breaking 
 out of hostilities in Italy, the instincts of his old profession 
 had suggested to him that a good speculation might be 
 made in Flanders by turning to account, as a spy, the ob- 
 servations which he had made in his character of a hermit. 
 He sought an interview with Coligny, and laid his proposi- 
 tions before him. The noble admiral hesitated, for his 
 sentiments were more elevated than those of many of his 
 contemporaries. He had, moreover, himself negotiated and 
 signed the truce with Spain, and he shrank from violating 
 it with his own hand l)eforc a declaration of war. Still, 
 he was aware that a French army was on its way to attack 
 the Spaniards in Italy ; he was under instructions to take 
 the earliest advantage which his position on the frontier 
 might offer him ; he knew that both theory and practice 
 authorized a general, in that age, to break bis fast, even in 
 time of truce, if a tenipting morsel should present itself;* 
 and, above all, he thoroughly understood the character of 
 liis nearest antagonist, the new governor of the Nether- 
 lands, Philibert of Savoy, whom he knew to be the most 
 unscrupulous chieftain in Europe. These considerations 
 decided him to take advantage of the hermit-i)anker's com- 
 munication. 
 
 "A dav was accordingly fixed, at whicli, under the 
 guidance of this newly-acciuired ally, a surpri.^e sliould be 
 
 * Rrantomc, ^'ie de r.\diniral dc Chatillon. 
 Vol. I.— 7
 
 74 ADMIIIAI. COLIGNY. 
 
 attempted by the French forces, and the unsuspecting city 
 of Douay given over to the pillage of a brutal soldiery. 
 The time appointed was the night of Epiphany, upon occa- 
 sion of which festival it was thought the inhabitants, over- 
 come with sleep and wassail, might be easily overpowered 
 (6th January, 1557). The plot was a good plot, but the 
 admiral of France was destined to be foiled by an old 
 woman.* This person, apparently the only creature awake 
 in the town, perceived the danger, ran shrieking through 
 the streets, alarmed the citizens while it was yet time, and 
 thus prevented the attack. Coligny, disa])pointed in his 
 plan, recompensed his soldiers by a sudden onslaught upon 
 Sens in Artois, which he sacked and then levelled with the 
 ground." If Coligny gave such a license to his troops, 
 there must have been strong reasons for departing from his 
 usual restraints of discii^line, and from the merciful dispo- 
 sition which is almost universally ascribed to him. 
 
 The Duke of Savoy pushed forward his army, pillaged 
 and burned Yervins and made a feint against the town of 
 Guise. Coligny saw that the real object of attack was 
 Saint Quentin. This old frontier town of Picardy stood 
 on a hill, which sloped down to the river Somme. A broad 
 ditch lay around the outer wall. On three sides was a 
 marsh, deep enough, in certain places, to be called a lake. 
 It was worth saving, not only for its wealth and manufac- 
 tures, but because it was on the high road to Paris. If the 
 enemy should capture it, he might rush to the seizure of the 
 capital. 
 
 Teligny,t whose grandson was to obtain the hand of the 
 young Louisa Coligny, was in the city with a few men. He 
 and the captain of the town sent word to the admiral that 
 
 * Perau, Vie de Coligny ; Laoratelle, Guerre? de Religion, 
 t Motley is mistaken in saying tluit he was "son-in-law of the ad- 
 miral."
 
 FIIOM CAMP T<) PJJISOX. 75 
 
 tliey were in great peril. They needed men and supplies. 
 The forces of the enemy had begun the siege, crowding in 
 between the walls and the river, and taking possession of 
 the houses in the suburbs. Coligny knew that it was use- 
 less to wait for the main army under Montmorency to come 
 to the relief of the city, for the divisions were posted at 
 several points, distant from each other. He knew that 
 every hour lessened the possibility of reinforcing the gar- 
 rison. He thought how inqjortant was the place to France; 
 it stood as the defence of the capital ; if it fell, Paris might 
 be taken. His plans were rapidly formed, and as " he was 
 not the man to let the grass grow under his feet," he set 
 out with reinforcements of ten or twelve hundred men, horse 
 and foot. It was the second of August. The race was 
 warm between hijn and certain English troops, which were 
 hurrying to join the besiegers. They first reached the camp 
 at Saint Quentin, and blocked up the route by which the 
 admiral hoped to enter the city. But he was determined 
 to force his way. His officers protested against his attempt. 
 His army was slow to catch his enthusiasm. In his anxiety 
 he outstripped the movements of his troops. Only seve.n 
 hundred men followed him, as the gates were opened to 
 admit him, wlien tlic midnight air rang with the cheers of 
 the besieged little band ; the rest had failed through weari- 
 ness, mistaken the j)ath or proved unfaithful to duty. He 
 had listened to no voice save the desperate entreaties of the 
 garrison, and his great thought had been the defence of his 
 country. Shutting hiinself up in the city and trusting in 
 God, he resolved to maintain it l)y his skill and experience 
 or share its dismal fate. 
 
 As the gates closed upon Coligny the road was blocked , 
 up for his advancing trooi)s. His uncle was at ]^a Fere, 
 hearing daily of the state of affairs, and doing all that he 
 could to send relief, but dLsa})pointed in every eflbrt. The
 
 76" ADMIRAL eOI.IONY. 
 
 place was even weaker than the admiral had expected to 
 find it. The walls could not endure a cannonade; the 
 towers were unfit for use ; the magazines had in them a fair 
 supply of ammunition, but there were not fifty muskets in 
 good repair. The stores of provisions would be exhausted 
 in three weeks. The admiral must make the best of his 
 condition, and be active. From the towers he saw where to 
 operate. One of the first steps was to prevent the esiemy 
 from approaching nearer to the walls and hiding in the 
 suburban houses and among the ti'ees. The ditch was 
 crossed, the trees levelled, and the houses which could give 
 "aid and comfort" to the enemy burned to the ground. 
 
 For a few days the admiral was ill, and against his ex- 
 press orders Teligny made an imprudent sortie, hoping to 
 signalize his courage. He was stricken down by the foe, 
 and rescued by the hands of Coligny, who, at great peril, 
 rushed forth and brought him back, covered with wounds, 
 to implore pardon and to die at the feet of his forgiving 
 commander. The loss of the popular captain was greatly 
 regretted by all. Weaker and weaker grew the garrison. 
 Shorter rations were given to the besieged, and lest one 
 common fate of starvation should involve them all, Coligny 
 sent out all useless consumers. He quartered the women 
 in the cathedral and other churches, locking the doors, lest 
 their tears or their terror should weaken the courage of the 
 soldiers. It was an act of mercy, as well as a military neces- 
 sity, for it saved the weak from the insults of the strong. 
 
 The more desperate affairs became, the more cheerful 
 •were the face and the words of Coligny. Those whom he 
 inspired with confidence knew not the agonies of fear which 
 he experienced while visiting his soldiers by night, or stand- 
 ing by day in the watch-tower and looking in vain for the 
 banners of Andelot or Montmorency. At length, from his 
 tower, he discovered a route by which it might be possible
 
 FROM CAMP TO misox. 77 
 
 to introduce reinforoements. There was a point where the 
 niartili was forded along a few narrow and difficult paths, 
 and a running stream might be crossed in boats. He sent 
 a messenger to his uncle, suggesting his plan. The eager 
 old constable lost no time. He ordered his nephew, Ande- 
 lot, to lead two thousand men across the marshes and join 
 his brother. The bold colonel-general set out by night 
 with his men, full of hope and audacious in enterprise. 
 IJut the guide was either ignorant of the paths or treacher- 
 ous to his countrymen, and he led the cautious soldiers up 
 to an outpost of the enemy, where they were attacked, re- 
 pulsed and routed. Some were cut to pieces, many were 
 drowned in the marshes, and the renniant escaped with 
 their gallant leader to the camp at La Fere. Coligny now 
 saw this secret route beset with enemies. 
 
 The ninth of August came, and the Romish besiegers 
 were thinking of the festival of St. Lawrence, which Mont- 
 morency was as ready to honour as they, for he was a 
 staunch papist. But they might not be so willing as him- 
 self to make battle upon a saint's day. He resolved to 
 make another attempt to throw a force into the city and 
 in broad dayliglit, with Andelot at the head. His plan 
 was to cross the river Somme, Coligny furnishing the boats. 
 He j)Ut his entire army in motion — eighteen thousand foot- 
 men and six thousand cavalry, most of them foreign mer- 
 cenaries, but commanded by an array of the finest nobles 
 and cavaliers of France, many of whom had been reading 
 in their tent^ the books of the Reformers. 
 
 The next morning, that of the memoraljle day of St. 
 Lawrence, ^lontmorency took liis position on the banks of 
 the Sonune,* in full face of the enemy, who was a.s much 
 surprised by the sudden appearance of the French as if they 
 had dropped from the clouds. The shots that fell upon the 
 
 * Prescott's Philip the Second. 
 
 7*
 
 78 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 Spaniards threw tlieiii into groat disorder. The tent of the 
 Duke of Savoy was torn, in pieces, and he liad barely time 
 to snatch up his armour and escape, with his forces, to safer 
 quarters, tliree miles down the river. 
 
 This cheap success elated Moutmorency as if it had been 
 a victory, and lie hastened to pass his troops across the river. 
 But the boats were not ready ; two hours were spent in ob- 
 taining them, and even then there were not more than half 
 a dozen, and these so small that the process of crossing was 
 slow. The overloaded boats sometimes capsized in the 
 stream, and sometimes were swamped in the marshes. 
 Some of the men were drowned ; others sank in the mire 
 when landing; and others were shot down by the advancing 
 foe when climbing up the steep banks. A few were press- 
 ing forward to the gates opened to receive them. Meanwhile 
 the strategy of the enemy was changed. 
 
 In a windmill was posted Louis, the Prince of Conde, 
 and his eye ranged over the Spanish camp. He saw that 
 the enemy was crossing the river at a ford, and preparing 
 to sweep down upon the French army. He advised Mont- 
 morency of the movement, and suggested a retreat. The 
 veteran did not relish advice from so young an officer, and 
 testily replied, "I was a soldier before the Prince of Conde 
 vas born ; and, by the blessing of Heaven, I trust to teach 
 him some good lessons in war for many a year to come." 
 He would not quit the ground while a man of Andelot's 
 relieving force remained on his side of the river. The few 
 little boats never had done such straining service, and yet, 
 with all the fatal mishaps, only about four hundred and 
 fifty men,* wet, weary and wounded, threw themselves into 
 Saint Quentin with their valoi'ous leader Andelot. The two 
 
 * Environ cinq cons hommcs, tons soldats d'^Iite. Among lliem 
 was the fiimous engineer Saint Remy — homme fort experiniente, qui 
 avoit servi si utilcment au .siege de Metz. — Ferau, Vie dc Coligny.
 
 FROM CAMP TO PRISn.V. 79 
 
 Coligny brothers kd lliuir men to the wall.s to re.-:i.st the 
 force of Spauiards who still remained on their side of the 
 Stream. It was not Saint Quentin, it was Paris and all 
 France, that they were defending. 
 
 When Montmoi'ency saw the last boat push off, he gave 
 instant orders for a retreat. But the Spaniards, under 
 Count Egmont, pressed upon him. Turning to an old 
 officer, he asked what was best to do. " Had you asked 
 me," was the reply, " two hours since, I could have told 
 you ; it is now too late." There was nothing to do but 
 face about and fight the pursuers. Desperate was the clash 
 of arms ; many a brave cavalier fell ; many a young noble 
 won renown. In one hour about sixteen thousand soldiers 
 in the French service were wounded, slain and captured ; 
 only six thousand stood in the broken ranks. Among 
 many noble prisoners was Montmorency, severely wounded, 
 and humiliated as never before. Conde escaped, when 
 flight seemed out of the question, to display his prowess 
 and fall at last in the cause of the Huguenots. 
 
 Saint Quentin still was defended by the Colignys and 
 tlieir eight hundred soldiers. The admiral was driven 
 almost to despair by the total overthrow of the main army, 
 of which, however, he knew nothing for two days; but he 
 thought that the longer he bravely held out the greater the 
 advantage to his country. He might keep the enemy from 
 marching upon Paris. The remaining citizens were in 
 terror, wisliing that Coligny would steal away and leave 
 them to make terms of peace. Then it was that he dis- 
 j)layed all the strength of his character. He called the 
 p>'ople together, and in an eloquent speech proved to them 
 tliat the safety of their country was to be valued above 
 their property and lives. He caused them to take oath 
 that if any of them should speak of surrender he should 
 lose his head for it. He also took the oath, resigning his
 
 80 ADMIRAT. COLTONY. 
 
 head to them if they should hear liiiii talk of yielding up 
 the town. Hope was not all gone, for the Duke of Nevers 
 had gathered together the wreck of the defeated army, and 
 mustered new forces for the relief of Saint Quentin. He 
 and Coligny managed to correspond with each other. 
 
 A fisherman pointed out a hidden path, several feet under 
 water, through which a hundred and fifty unarmed and 
 half-drowned men joined the garrison. For seventeen 
 days the walls were battered, mines were dug under them 
 and breachas were made by shots and explosions. The 
 skilful engineer. Saint Remy, did wonders in repairing the 
 broken walls, but the time came when the genius of the 
 engineer and the courage of the admiral were of no further 
 avail. The eleven breaches were past repair. Again the 
 Duke of Savoy assaulted the town ; after an hour's severe 
 fighting, the besiegers were repulsed at all points and mor- 
 tified to madness. Resting a little, they renewed the attack. 
 Where the walls were most broken the bravest men were 
 placed, and the Spaniards, therefore, aimed at a tower 
 which had been left almost unguarded. It was carried. 
 The as.«ailants mounted the ramparts and claimed the mas- 
 tery. Then poured in Spaniards, Germans and English, 
 thirsting for blood, prisoners and plunder. Coligny rushed 
 to the spot, willing to engage the enemy single-handed. 
 His brother and a few followers sprang to his aid. But the 
 men were overpowered, trodden down, disarmed and cap- 
 tured. Still the garrison made a desperate stand, until 
 almost smothered by thick ranks of soldiers. At last the 
 town was taken, and the late fierce conflict seemed tame in 
 comparison with the scenes of rioting and violence which 
 followed. The wretched citizens fled in dismay, hiding in 
 corners and garrets or seeking escape through the broken 
 walls. 
 
 Coligny was smiting the foe right and left, having near
 
 FROM CAMP TO PRISON. 81 
 
 liini but four soldiers and liis page, uhen Francisco Diaz, a 
 simple Spaniard, and his comrades drew near, casting an 
 eye on every side, and more intent on booty than prisoner?. 
 A Frenchman took him aside and said, " That is the 
 admiral." * 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Diaz, rushing upon Coligny and 
 striking him several times with his sword; "are you the 
 admiral ?" 
 
 " I am," was the reply ; " and remember that the fortune 
 of arms is variable. To-day it falls ill to me ; to-morrow 
 it may fall ill to you ; this should oblige you to deal i'uirly 
 and justly with your prisoners." 
 
 "Let me have a part!" cried a fierce soldier, eager for 
 spoil, and threatening to fall upon the admiral, who kept 
 him at bay. The soldiers then had a small fray between 
 themselves. This new Spanish quarrel, perhaps, saved 
 Coligny 's life. Diaz became sole possessor of the prisoner. 
 
 But Diaz was so intent upon pillage that he asked, 
 "Where is there a good house for me to sack? Where can 
 I put you, ]\I()nsieur I'Admiral, till I get my share?" A 
 place was found. Coligny was ordered to wait his time. 
 
 "You do very wrong to seek plunder," said the admiral. 
 " It is quite enough that you have taken me. I beg of you 
 to lead me away." Diaz conducted him to the tent of the 
 Duke of Savoy, and hastened back to the ravages of the 
 town. Poor hirelings made themselves rich with spoils. 
 By night the soldiers ransacked houses, churches, and even 
 the vaults of the dead. The dying lay everywhere, beg- 
 
 * Un de cciix qui <?toit avoc nioi, dit que j'etois radmiral ; Inis il 
 s'acklressa a inui et me lira quelques coups d'epee — Coliyui/, Mrui. de 
 St. Qucnthi. 
 
 Full aceoinits of tlie battle of Saint Quentin in Perau, Vie de Co- 
 lifjny ; Tliuaui, Historia, lib. xix. ; rrescott, Tliilip II.; Motley, Rise 
 of llie Dutch Kt i>iil)lic. I have followed Colifjuy's own reports.
 
 82 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 ging in vain for mercy. The living, stripped, plundered 
 and outraged, saw their houses set on fire. King Philip, 
 who had come to the scene of his proud victory, ordered 
 that all the living inhabitants should be banished. A 
 Spanish soldier, whe kept a diary of all that occurred, 
 says of the desolations: "I wandered through the place, 
 gazing at all this, and it seemed to me that it was another 
 destruction of Jerusalem. What most struck me was to 
 find not a single denizen of the town left who was or dared 
 to call himself French. How vain and transitory, thought 
 I, are the things of this world !" Philip found a brighter 
 side to the victory, and, because the greater battle had been 
 fought on St. Lawrence's day,* he built the Escurial in the 
 form of a gridiron, on which the saint was said to have 
 been put to death. It would have been quite just to inter- 
 pret the gridiron shape of the palace to mean that he would 
 prove one of the fiercest of all persecutors. 
 
 Andelot, of whom his brother said in his report, "he often 
 did in one day what we hard toilers would not have done 
 in a month," battled on for an hour after the wall which 
 he defended was broken, and finally gave uj) his sword. He 
 was placed in a tent under a strong guard. Perhaps the 
 watchers took turns in the business of pillage, and gave the 
 less attention to him. He remembered Milan, and, slipping 
 out under the canvas, made the marshes his refuge. Coligny 
 wrote the next day to his king, " There is so great a noise 
 in the camp, and so happy evidence that my brother has 
 escaped, that I leave it for him to tell you the particulars 
 of the battle."* If Andelot went speedily to the court, he 
 found a cabal f of the Guises in comfortable spirits over the 
 
 * Perau, Vie d'Aiidelot. 
 
 t Uii cable puissante qui ne meditoit rien moins que de tout ren- 
 verser pour i)arvenier h son but ; c'^toient les Guises, princes d^vorfe 
 d'une ambition ellicn^e, etc. — Perau.
 
 riJoM cxMV T(» I'nisox. 83' 
 
 pai)ture of the admiral and Montinoroncy. On their ruin 
 flie house of Lorraine might rise. With thera patriotism 
 was among the vanities. 
 
 " I do not know where I sliall be sent," wrote Coligny 
 to liis king, tliree days after the capture, "but I pray our 
 Tyord to keep you in good health, and give you a long life."' * 
 The next month he was sent under arms to tlie castle of 
 Sluys in Flanders, and thence to Ghent, wliere on the very 
 brink of the grave he was to find tlie riches of the gosiK'l. 
 
 One day a Spaniard entered his quarters, bowing, smiling 
 and acting the most obedient with a grace quite impressive. 
 ]Ie recognized the soldier. " I come to pray you to give me 
 a certificate, signed with your own hand, that I captured 
 your honour at Saint Quentin." 
 
 " You shall have it." Coligny wrote the commendation, 
 and Francisco Diaz got liis reward — perhaps a second time. 
 He must have learned cool impertinence of his master 
 Philip. 
 
 It has been said by his enemies that Coligny saved 
 France, although he lost St. Quentin. In the eyes of men 
 his brilliant conduct seemed to result in failure, but out of 
 it God would bring success to his own cause. Two effects 
 are apparent — one upon the hero, and another upon the 
 French Protestants. If Coligny had achieved a victory, 
 none can tell what promotion might have been his reward, 
 nor what might have prevented him from l)ccoming a de- 
 voted Christian. The way to heaven seemed to lie through 
 a prison and through deej) adversity, and he took it. In 
 his affliction he saw the hand of God, and gave thanks. 
 The loss of St. Quentin was to him a mystery. When false 
 reports of it were published, he took his pen to write his 
 l)age of history. It was probably after divine truth had 
 dawned upon his mind. His simple narrative reveals his 
 * Dale, August 30, 1557,
 
 84 ADMIllAL COMGNY. 
 
 honesty, liis love of truth, his patriotism and his ardent 
 spiritual feelings. He sees that God has Avilled all his ad- 
 versities, and he submits as one who has just come through 
 a new Christian experience. He says: "All the comfort 
 which I have is that which, it seems to me, all Christians 
 ought to have ; namely, that such mysteries do not take 
 place without the permission and will of God, which is 
 always good, holy and reasonable, and which effects nothing 
 without just reasons, of which, however, I need not know the 
 cause, and of which also I have no gi'eat need to inquire, 
 but rather to humble myself before him in conforming my- 
 self to his will."* 
 
 The Protestants of France were the gainers by the affair 
 of St. Quentin. If the French had won the day, the king 
 would doubtless have vented his pride and his joy in some 
 severer measures against those who were already under the 
 ban. What a thank-offering, the blood of believers ! If 
 Coligny had not held back the Spaniards, if they had swept 
 down upon Paris, and if they had put France under foot, 
 then what woe to the Protestants ! But this was prevented. 
 The French were humiliated. The king and his council 
 had something else to think of than persecuting the secret 
 worshippers of God. The former looked to the defence of 
 the endangered State ; the latter took advantage of the 
 crisis and quietly promoted the interests of the Reformed 
 Church. We shall find the Protestants taking a bold step 
 in the advance. The State is chastised in order that the 
 Church may grow. 
 
 * Discours de Gaspar de Colligny {nic), Seigneur de Chatillon, Ad- 
 miral de France, ou sont sommairement continues les choses qui se 
 sont passees durant le si^ge de Saint Quentin. Dated December 29, 
 1557.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A BOLDER PJiOTHSrAXTISar. 
 (1553-lfJ58.) 
 
 THE conpccration of a cliikl was tlie occasion for organ- 
 izing the first Protestant church in Paris, and indeed 
 tlie first successful one in all France. The materials had 
 become abundant ; a model of construction was needed. 
 Henry II. had supposed that few others than the "common 
 peo})le," in their (juiet retreats, dared openly to avow the 
 Keformed doctrines. By spying, ferreting out and hound- 
 ing down a solitary "gospeller" here and there, even among 
 the more intelligent cla.sses, he hoped to keep the people in 
 terror of having any thoughts of their own. By the edict 
 of Chateaubriand {\~hA ) all right of heretics to proi)erty 
 was taken away ; no plea was allowed them in the courts ; 
 they were forbidden to petition the king or the i)arliament. 
 Almost every year had its new and severer edict. "That 
 Avhich strikes one most forcibly in reading the criminal 
 registers under this reign is the number of rigorous meas- 
 ures eiuicted against the sectaries of Luther and Calvin. 
 Scarcely a day passed without some judgment in the case 
 of heresy."* 
 
 But truth is not to be terrified when Heaven orders its 
 advance. It laid hold upon the stronger classes. It had 
 
 * Taillandicr, Mt'inoirc sur Ics Ilogistres du Parliament de Paris, 
 ])endant le R^gne de Ilcnri II., Paris, 1842. Voltaire scarcely touched 
 tlie great subject in his Ilistoire du Parliament. 
 
 Vol. I.— 8 85
 
 86 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 an attraction for -wealthy citizens, busy merchants, shrewd 
 bankers, thinking lawyers and students of history. Knights 
 and nobles, by their castle-hearths, or ev^en in their tents 
 and by their camp-fires, began to I'ead the witty words of 
 Erasmus, the trenchant letters of Ulric Hutten, or the 
 stately sentences of Calvin's " Institutes." No embargo 
 upon foreign books, no injunctions served upon the press in 
 France, no espionage upon readers in their homes, could 
 sweep back the sea of truth that rolled in upon the land. 
 As well make contraband the air and the light; as well 
 seal the fountains that supplied the rivers. It was the 
 old fight of God's word against human power, and vain 
 were the threats of man. And yet the Reform was thus 
 far a private work ; there was need of an organized 
 Protestantism. It was to begin with " the Church in the 
 house." 
 
 There came to sojourn in Paris a jMonsieur la Ferriere, 
 somewhat as Aquilla lodged in Corinth. He sought a lib- 
 erty which his province of Maine had denied him. His 
 house showed him to be a man of wealth ; his conversation 
 proved his learning and piety. He knew how to get upon 
 the track of the Chriftandiiis, the gospellers, the secret dis- 
 ciples, whether in the Latin Quarter, where Calvin once held 
 the little meetings, and where the fires had not gone out, or 
 within the halls of the palace. He put himself in friendly 
 relations with them. They met at his house for w^orship ; 
 they shared with him in the tender interest which he felt 
 for his new-born child. 
 
 " It must be consecrated to God," said he ; and we have 
 nothing now to do with the correctness of all his views. 
 " What if it should die without being given to hira I I 
 cannot bear the thought of having it baptized by a Romish 
 priest. I want no superstitious rites performed. And Ge- 
 neva is too far away ; we cannot go there with the child.
 
 A BOLDER PROXESTANTLSM. 87 
 
 Let us elect some one among us to be our pastor and to 
 administer the holy sacraments." 
 
 Surprise was upon the face of all who hoard this proposal. 
 AVho of them was fit for the solemn office? What right 
 had they to call any one? " It will cause trouble," replied 
 the cautious, who for 7uore than twenty years had known 
 the deadly cost of fortitude. " Ilcniember how the flock at 
 Meaux, and then at ]\[etz, was scattered. "We shall all be 
 banished or burned." 
 
 "Courage is a proof of faith," answered the earnest La 
 Ferriere, "and faith will secure God's defence. It is time 
 for us to have a church." 
 
 The good man spoke from his heart, as one raised up for 
 a great crisis. He carried the minds of the devout people. 
 They knelt and in tears asked God's will. They fasted, 
 they consulted the divine word, they made it the mighty 
 question; they met again, and took the solemn resolution. 
 The line between doubt and decision was crossed. The 
 moment for an election came. AVhat if God should throw 
 confusion into their deliberations? They cast their votes. 
 One name exj)rcssed the choice of all ; it was that of the 
 young John Mayon, called also De Launay and La Kiviere. 
 
 In the town of Angers lived a rich lawyer, De Launay, 
 who hated the Reformation. Hearing that his son John, 
 whom he had sent into Switzerland, had tasted the " here- 
 sies" of Geneva, he instantly called him home, and set 
 him down to study law. The son obeyed. He listened to 
 all the persuasions and warnings of his father; then came 
 tears, entreaties and threats, but he w'as unmoved from his 
 iiiith. " Your father intends to have you arrested," said 
 certain friends. " Escape at once. We will aid you." He 
 saw that he must leave father, mother, wealth and honours 
 for the Gospel's sake. He fled to Paris, cast his lot with 
 the gospellers, won their esteem, and now received their
 
 ■88 ADMIRAL COLIGXY. 
 
 unanimous call to a sacred office. He was but twenty-two 
 years of age. He could not decline a service for the Church 
 under the cross. He was properly ordained — by whom we 
 know not — and his ministry began with power from on high. 
 
 The heart of La Ferriere was more than gratified. 
 AVith the baptism of his child an infant church arose in 
 Paris during the September of 1555. Elders and deacons 
 were chosen, and such rules established as the wretched 
 times would permit. " It was organized," says Beza, " ac- 
 cording to the example of the Church in primitive times."* 
 A model was now furnished to all the Reformed of the 
 kingdom. It was imitated with astonishing rapidity. That 
 very year John de Launay went to his native town, whence 
 his father had driven him, and organized a church ; other 
 churches were founded at Meaux and in the districts of 
 Poitiers, Saintonge, and Guyenne. Within the next three 
 years there were scores of them in the various provinces. 
 King Henry did not estimate the growth of an organiza- 
 tion which was gathering to itself the majority of the 
 nobles, enlisting the services of princes, and destined to 
 shake the kingdom by its stately tread, almost sweep away 
 the throne in its advance, and make the name of Huguenot 
 glorious through all generations. His father had aided in 
 securing Protestant liberty to Geneva; his minions had 
 sent Calvin thither as an exile, and now that exile was be- 
 ginning to hold an influence over France even greater than 
 that of her kings. 
 
 There were, however, sharp eyes turned upon the little 
 band of the faithful in Paris. Monks and priests did not 
 cease to thunder aloud from their pulpits against their as- 
 semblies, and represent them as guilty of profaning the 
 sacred mysteries, and practicing the darkest crimes under 
 
 * Ilistolre ties Esrli^es Reform^es, liv. ii. ; Piianx, Histoire de la 
 Reformation Fran9iuse, liv. vii. ; Laval, Hist. Ref. in France, bk. i.
 
 A BOLDER PROTESTANTISM. 89 
 
 pretence of worship. The ])eople g-ave credit to these 
 slanders, and shuddered to think tliat there dwelt among 
 them sucli an odious immoral fraternity. From one liouse 
 to another tlie faithful transferred their assemblies, lioping 
 to fhnle the vigilance of the magistrates. For two years 
 no attack was nnide upon them as a body, and they engaged 
 the mansion called the Hotel de Bertoniier, for a church. 
 It stood in the street St. Jacques, near the colleges of the 
 university, at the time when the campaigns of Guise and 
 Coligny drew the public attention from the Protestants. 
 
 Just when the losses at Saint Quentin threw all Paris 
 into alarm, and when every cloud of dust might betoken 
 the march of the S])aniards, the Protestants met quietly and 
 more boldly in their place of worshi]). Who would be seek- 
 ing victims for the stake at such a time? Was not Tvoman- 
 ism .satisfied with the fifty thousand who had been slain as 
 martyrs during twenty-five years? One evening three or 
 four hundred Protestants, of all ranks and from all quar- 
 ters of Paris, met to sing the Psalms of jNIarot, listen to 
 their pastor, and celebrate the Lord's Supper. " Among 
 them were many ladies of the court, some of them closely 
 attached to the queen. The historians appear to me to 
 have taken too little notice of this fact," says Lacratelle, 
 Avho adheres to the Roman Church, but has a fair appreci- 
 ation of the Reform; "I see in it a first indication of the 
 policy and character of Catherine de Medici. Her rival, 
 Diana, was the most cruel enemy of the Protestants. The 
 queen, without loving them, doubtless held some credit 
 among them, and she sought to win their confidence."* She 
 had Protestant ladies in her court, and allowed them to 
 choose their own place of worship. 
 
 Students of the colleges and priest." of the Sorbonne 
 watched the people gathering in the Rue St. Jacques. With 
 
 * Lacratelle, Guerres de Religion, liv. iii. 
 
 8«
 
 90 ADMIRAL COIJGNY. 
 
 horror they tliought of tlic mass being displaced by the 
 Lord's 8uj)per, and wliat else they knew not. It was a 
 good hour to show their zeah They ran about exciting the 
 alarm of the citizens. The word passed from house to 
 house. Whispering neighbours met in groups, blustered 
 and made threats, seized whatever cheap and rude missiles 
 they could find, and went lumbering along to the scene. 
 
 The simple-hearted worshippers, eager for the divine 
 word as those of Troas to whom Paul preached nearly 
 through the whole night, innocently allowed the tumult to 
 increase by the length of their services. It was near mid- 
 night when they opened the doors to go home. But what 
 was their terror when they were greeted on the threshold 
 with a volley of stones ! They saw the windows of the 
 houses lighted up, so that no Calvinist might escape under 
 cover of the darkness.* Torches glared in the streets ; 
 cries, shouts, hootings, shrieks, curses and threats filled the 
 air. More distant citizens and the guards heard the uproar, 
 and tliey grasped the arms which they had ready for the 
 descent of the victors of Saint Quentin.f The tumidt be- 
 came general. Some asked, " Have the Spaniards come to 
 the gates ? " 
 
 " Not yet," was the answer, " but there arc wretches here 
 who have sold the kingdom." 
 
 "Cursed traitors!" cried others. " They rejoice in the 
 misfortunes of France. Death to the heretics ! " The street 
 was blockaded by the rabble. 
 
 The pastor and elders sought to prepare the flock for the 
 worst. "Let us pray that God may come to our aid," said 
 a good old man, and they fell upon their knees, lifting their 
 hands to heaven. Their voices were lost to human ears by 
 the loud derisions of the mob. The divine ear heard them. 
 
 " What shall we do?" inquired some of those who bore 
 * Lacratelle. f Laval.
 
 A liOLDKU I'U(JTi:.STAXTIS>f. 91 
 
 swords at their sides, a part of a gentleman's outfit at tliat 
 day. " We cannot expect a miracle from God, nor mercy 
 from cruel men. Shall we tear up the seats, barricade the 
 doors and wait for the king's guards to deliver us?" 
 
 " That would be certain death," said others. " We must 
 defend ourselves, and if need be cut our way througii the 
 crowd." They started, presenting a bold front to the riot- 
 ers, a part of whom fell back a little, while another part 
 hurled all sorts of missiles and brandished their i)ikes. A 
 goodly number escaped with their lives, though numy were 
 severely wounded. Only one man fell ; he was trodden 
 down, and so mutilated as to lose almost all likeness to a 
 human being.* 
 
 What of those who had not the courage to follow their 
 leaders? !Most of them were women and children. They 
 sought to fly through the garden, but every path was 
 watched. They barricaded the doors and windows, and 
 waited for the dawii. Even then they were beaten back 
 when they attempted to escape. They heanl the blows of 
 men who were forcing the doors, and with clasped hands 
 begged for mercy ; but the mob was jiitiless. Just then 
 arrived one of the king's officers and his band of sergeants. 
 At the sight of so many hel|)less women and chihlren, ex- 
 posed to every outrage, his heart was touched ; he shed 
 tears; his first emotions were humane. But when he 
 learned that these innocents had dared to observe the 
 Lord's Supper instead of the Komish mass, his j)ity gave 
 way to anger. He must execute the law, and it had no 
 mercy for heretics. "We desist from reciting the insults and 
 outrages inflicted, while fully one hundred and twenty of 
 them were led to prison. f 
 
 * I'^iio exoepto, qui in turba ocoisiis est, says Dc Thou, 
 t Po Tliou luis it, " fere exx ;" Lacratclle, " Pins de denx cents per- 
 ponucs fiirent arretees et livrees il niillc outrauos," etc.
 
 92 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 The slanders were renewed. Nameless crimes and shock- 
 ing imj^ieties were charged upon " those of the religion." 
 It was the old libel of the ancient i^agans against the early- 
 Christians. Yet the very coarseness of the charges led to 
 in(juiry, and the truth was found by those who had never 
 sought it befoi'e. The parliament was too mild for the 
 Cardinal of Lorraine, and he arranged it to have the ac- 
 cused tried before Judge INIeusnier, a man guilty of perjury 
 and very profligate. This was too much, for the judge was 
 so unjust that his case was taken in liand, and only a mob 
 saved him from the pilloiy and banishment. And yet 
 some were to take the fiery chariot to heaven. One was 
 an aged deacon ; another a lawy^er ; and a third was the 
 young widow Philippa de Luns, who had come to Paris in 
 order to place herself in the fold of the Reformed Church. 
 Such was the general result: a few more martyrs and many 
 believers placed where they bore new testimony to the sus- 
 taining power of religion. Beza speaks of those who were 
 closely confined in the prison of the Chatelet, and adds : 
 "However, God, who always takes care of his own, provided 
 that they should not remain without consolations. For, in 
 consequence of the great number of the prisoners, the jailors 
 had been forced to put several in the same place, so that 
 among them there always chanced to be some one endowed 
 with more fortitude than liis com{)anions, to give courage 
 to the others. On all sides psalms were sung, and tlie whole 
 Chatelet resounded with the praises of God — a sufficient 
 proof of the singular confidence they had in their own 
 hearts of their own innocence." 
 
 At Geneva, Calvin and Farel lifted up their voices, and 
 roused all Protestant Euroj)e to intercede for the ])risoners. 
 Calvin raised his mighty pen against the sword, the fagot 
 and the axe. He wrote to King Henry, laying before him 
 an abstract of the creed of the Reformed churches of
 
 A BOLDER PROTESTANTISM. 93 
 
 France,* and j)k'a(lin<; liiin "to luivo compassion on those 
 Avlio seek but to serve God in simplicity, while they loyally 
 acquit themselves of tlu^ir duty toward you." He also 
 wrote to " the women detained in prison at Paris," remind- 
 ing them of "the courage and constancy of women at the 
 death of our Lord Jesus Christ ; when the apostles had 
 forsaken him, how they continued by him with marvellous 
 constancy ; and how a woman was the messenger to an- 
 nounce his . resurrection. ... If God then so honoured 
 and fortified them, think you not that he will do so now? 
 How many thousands of women have spared neither blood 
 nor life to maintain the name of Jesus Christ and to an- 
 nounce his reign! Has not their martyrdom borne fruit? 
 Has not their faith obtained the glory of the world as well 
 as that of other martyrs?" He appealed to the Swiss 
 churches to make a collection for "the brethren of Paris," 
 saying, " Though money is not readily "to be found in these 
 parts, I shall assuredly so bestir myself, should I be obliged 
 to pawn my head and feet, that it will be found forthcom- 
 ing here." 
 
 Among the noble captives was the wife of the Chevalier 
 Rentigny, standard-bearer of the Duke of Guise. Every 
 effort was made to shake her faith, but in the winter, when 
 her cell was cold, Beza wrote : " Most of the captives hold 
 out very courageously, so that a lady, the most distin- 
 guished of all the prisoners for the nobility of her birth 
 and the wealth of her friends, openly refused the pardon 
 offered her, spurning the tears and prayers both of her 
 father [the Heigneur de Kambouillet] and of her husband — 
 one worthy certainly of being commended to the Lord by 
 
 * Calvin's Letters, Presbyterian Board of I'ublieation, vol. iii.. No. 
 cccclxxx. He Raid : " You have here. Sire, an undisguised and un- 
 varnished summary of our faitli. . . . We hope our apology will be 
 admiited by you as reasonable.''
 
 94 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 name." Slic was encouraged by a letter from Calvin, and 
 continued faithful through all the winter. But her judges 
 threatened, and her husband entreated, until she finally con- 
 sented to hear mass in her prison. She listened to it, but 
 took no part in the service. Scarcely was she set at liberty, 
 when she blushed for her weakness, and begged a pardon 
 from the Lord and from the pastors of the church at Paris. 
 One of the pastors Avrote to Calvin, saying: "We have 
 consented that Madame de Kentigny should return to her 
 husband, because he is labouring under a very severe 
 illness, and he made us the most ample promises that he 
 would not interfere with her faith. Already the horses had 
 been purchased to convey her to your city [on the Avay to 
 Italy]. Certainly, up to this moment she has borne herself 
 most courageously." Calvin kindly wrote to her again, 
 saying : " Lay it down as a rule of conduct, that you are 
 not to fill up the measure of your offences by adding others 
 to their number." She adhered to this good rule for trying 
 times. De Thou relates that she was received among the 
 queen's ladies of honour, several of whom secretly pro- 
 fessed the Keformed religion. 
 
 "We present her as a specimen* of the sufferers in whom 
 all Protestant Europe felt a deep interest. The heroism 
 displayed was equal to that of Coligny at Saint Quentin. 
 It was bringing some relief. The pen of Calvin had 
 waked up the German j^riuces ; they laid their protests 
 before the French king, and he arrested the work of mar- 
 tyrdom. Some of the younger prisoners were sent to 
 monasteries to be cured of heresy, and, not being very 
 narrowly watched, certain of them escaped. Others heard 
 
 * Other cases are portrayed in Calvin's Letters, many of whicli were 
 were written to the church of Paris, to individual suflerei-s and to 
 various persecuted churches of France. These letters bear witness to 
 the rapid growth of the Keformation in the French kingdom.
 
 A BOLDER PUOTESTANTISM. 95 
 
 mass in prison, without assenting to it, and were absolved. 
 But not a few said, " Let come what will, we cannot yield ; 
 we will die in our colls first." King lloiiry needed the 
 support of the Protestants. 
 
 The perils of the nation again drew the public mind from 
 the Reformed Church. Francis, now Duke of Guise, had 
 won small success in Italy, lie was recalled to take the 
 l)lace of Coligny and Montmorency. It was on his speedy 
 journey that the Duchess Ren^-e saved so many thousands 
 of his troops. In Paris the king said to him, " You are 
 come to save France." The streets rang with cheers : "The 
 hero of Metz will retrieve the loss of Saint Quentin." 
 
 " Let us have him made viceroy," said the Guise faction, 
 who sought to take every advantage of the popular enthu- 
 siasm and elevate him above the unfortunate Montmorency 
 and the admiral.'*" 
 
 " Vice-Roi?" replied the wiser ones, trying how the word 
 would sound. " Rather a new title in France. The people 
 have hardly got to that yet. Let us create for him the 
 office of lieutenant-general of the king's armies, which will 
 amount to the same thing. It will put him above the con- 
 stable, and the Colignys may then make the best of it." 
 Thus they whispered their ambitious views, but took pains 
 to say openly that the title was only a compliment. 
 
 The office was granted by king and by Parliament, the 
 president being a friend to the house of Lorraine. The 
 duke was sent to take Calais from the English — a bold 
 undertaking, for it was then the Gibraltar of England, 
 "the brightest jewel in her crown." For two hundred 
 years she had held it, and France had not dared to wrest 
 it from her grasp. Over the gate had long been written 
 this insolent couplet : 
 
 * Pioposerotit de la faire Vice-Roi ; mais ce titrc ^taiit noveaii en 
 France. — D'Ai(ri(jinj, Vie de Guise.
 
 96 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 "Tlicn shall Frendimen Calais win, 
 AVheii iron and lead like cork shall swim." 
 
 Already had Coligny spied out the roads across the 
 marshes, drawn maps, formed a plan for its recapture and 
 laid it before his king, sent forward the heroic Bi'iquemaut 
 in disguise to enter and examine the works, and soon he 
 had expected to place the French banner over the walls. 
 But the call to Saint Quentin had drawn him away from 
 the coast. Did Guise profit by all this? The point has 
 been disputed. It appears that when he laid his own plan 
 before the king, Henry did not approve of it, but sent to 
 Madame Coligny, asking for the papers of her husband. 
 She loaned them. Guise read them, but was not yet con- 
 vinced. The king brought in one of Coliguy's officers, who 
 had aided him in forming the first plan, and it was adopted, 
 to the satisfaction of Andelot, who served in the campaign. 
 
 Leading his troops over the frozen marches and dikes, 
 Guise surprised the ancient town on the first day of the year 
 1558, and in eight days recovered what Edward III. had 
 won by a twelve months' siege. Other towns were speedily 
 captured, and French glory was restored. A nation was 
 loud in its praise of the conqueror. He was named " the 
 saviour of his country." An odious parallel was drawn 
 between the new lieutenant-general and the admiral. The 
 people cared little to know that Coligny had furnished the 
 plan of the siege.* Guise had executed it, and that was 
 
 * "C'^toit I'ouvrage de Coligni." — Perau, Vie de Coligny. ''Coligni 
 avoit forni^ avant sa prison le dessein d'attaquer, . . . et form^ le 
 plan du siege qu'on trouva dans ses papiers ; il fiit donn^ au Due de 
 Guise, qui le suivit, et prit la place." — D'Attvir/ny, Vie de Guise. 
 These are not "^crivains Protestans," who seek to glorify "les talens 
 et les services de I'Amiral de Coligni," as Lacratelle urges; yet, as he 
 well says, "Le merite de rexecution est tout, dans les operations de 
 ce genre." — Thuani Historia; Gamier, Historic de France.
 
 A BOLDER PROTESTANTISM. 97 
 
 enough. Justice now accords wisdom to the one and 
 splendid military skill to the other. But in that day the 
 event contrihuted to the formation of two parties, whose 
 w^atchwords w-ere the names of these leaders. Coligny, who 
 had saved France, was treated with ingratitude. 
 
 By what measures should this victory be celebrated ? 
 The Lorraine brothers had two proposals to make. The 
 cardinal had been anxious for an edict which would estab- 
 lisli in France the Spanish Inquisition. The parliament 
 had refused to grant it. He now took courage. What a 
 j)r()of of gratitude for the recent successes would it be to 
 crush out all liberty of thought and worship ! But the par- 
 liament again hesitated. The title " Inquisition" was odious ; 
 tlie .Spanish model was too perfect in horrors, too elaborate 
 in its means of detecting secret opinions, and too thoroughly 
 furnished with hidden engines of death, for the French peo- 
 ple. A modified form was adopted. A court of inquiry 
 was appointed, of which there were three members — the 
 cardinals of Lorraine, of Bourbon, and of Chatillon.* The 
 last was Odet Coligny, who was beginning to look into the 
 books which his brother had read in the prison at Milan, 
 and to cherish a secret regard for the Protestants. They 
 had power to arrest, imprison, arraign and condemn sus- 
 pected heretics, without distinction of rank or quality. And 
 yet they did little. Was it because they dared not, or did 
 Odet's gentle counsels prevail ? It was rather because of a 
 limit put to the power of the tribunal. The accused had 
 the right of appeal to the civil courts. This did not suit 
 the Cardinal of Lorraine. Simply to declare men heretics 
 was not enough ; they must be exterminated. " This re- 
 striction," says the Abbe (xarnier, " without doubt .saved 
 the nation from a yoke winch it detested" — a yoke that 
 
 * Tailli^ndier, Rcsistresdu Parliament ; Garnicr, Histoircde France, 
 tome xxvii. ; Lacratelle, Bcza, Laval. 
 Vol. I._9
 
 98 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 coukl not fiiil to be resisted by " the number and rank of 
 the partisans of the new doctrine, one of whom was a mem- 
 ber of the tribunal." 
 
 The Duke of Guise had his scheme. The conqueror 
 asked that his niece, Mary of Scots, might be speedily mar- 
 ried to the Dauphin Francis. She must be nuide sure of 
 being the queen of France, and then the Guises would have 
 the kingdom under their sway. Even Catherine de Medici 
 yielded, and the nuptial. arrangements were made on a grand 
 scale. The occasion was to give the duke a new triumph 
 over all the Montmorencies, for he acted craftily in order 
 to obtain the charge of Grand-Master of France.* Woe 
 then to the constable and his nej^hews! The Protestant 
 nobles shook their heads, but smothered their wrath and 
 put on a good face at the brilliant wedding. 
 ■ Here we meet with Jeanne, the only surviving child of 
 Henry d'Albret and Margaret of Navarre, now in her 
 thirtieth year. She had grown up a Protestant in princi- 
 ple, and yet, as her mother had remained, she formally ad- 
 hered to the Roman Church. Self-possessed, attractive, 
 frank, ready in s])eech, decided in will, highly educated, 
 well versed in public affairs, so liberal that her mother often 
 lectured her for draining her purse, so patriotic that she 
 felt proud of the little kingdom of Navarre, and so heroic 
 in her nature that the stately and romantic were apparent, 
 it is no wonder that princely rivals sued for her hand. At 
 the wedding of Francis and Mary of Scots, she saw the 
 Duke of Guise, whose wealth and pretensions and all 
 royal endorsements had failed to commend him as a suitor; 
 but she did not see the old Baron ]\Iontmorency, who had 
 carried her in his arms to the altar, where she refused her 
 pledge to be the wife of the Duke of Cleves. All that for- 
 mality was set aside by the pope, and now she was the wife 
 * D'Auvigny, Yie de Guise; Lacratelle.
 
 A BOT.DEIl PROTESTANTISM. 99 
 
 of Anthony Bourbon, whom she was finding to be utterly 
 wortliless and dissipated. Slie was now queen of Navarre. 
 In her little realm she had done much to circulate the Bible, 
 sustain true preachers and promote a reform after her mo- 
 tlier's pattern. Hence she and her husband were reckoned 
 among the Protestant princes, and were under the suspicions 
 of King Henry. In part for their own relief they had come 
 to the wedding ; hoping also to do something tliat might 
 lessen the dominant power of the Guises.* 
 
 Near the University of Paris there was an open space of 
 ground called the Pre mix Clercs. It was the students' 
 promenade.f On this the Calvinists began to meet when 
 the evenings were pleasant. They walked, conversed, sang 
 and listened to kindly words from their pastors. "When 
 l^-inces wed, Protestants may worship," said one to another, 
 while the gay festivities were proceeding at the court. 
 
 " Be cautious," was the reply of the fearful, " or we shall 
 have another Saint Jacques affair." 
 
 "Not while the king and queen of Navarre are at the 
 palace," replied the faithful. Soon it was whispered that 
 these royal personages would appear on the commons. The 
 word went abroad ; a vast crowd gathered, some report it 
 five thousand. All sang tiieir favourite Psalms, from the 
 version of Clement Marot, to the popular airs of the day. 
 It was like the singing of the Marseillaise in other times. 
 The king and queen of Navarre came, followed by a train 
 of gentlemen^ and ladies. His favourite Psalm was, 
 "Judge and avenge my cause, O Lord," and he had good 
 reason to sing it as a solemn prayer. Amid so much music 
 party spirit was calmed ; people almost forgot whether they 
 
 * C'olqiihoiin, Life of Jeanne d'Albret; Freer, Life of Jeanne 
 d'Albret. 
 
 t " Le rendezvous des oisifs de Paris." — Puaux. 
 X Gentils-liomme, a then new term for the nobles.
 
 100 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 were orthodox or heretic ; it was a grand hour of joy. 
 There was scarcely a more interesting scene in the entire 
 history of the French Reform. A wild, wandering poet, 
 living by his wits, and revealing his genius by some bright 
 lines, had made the voice of song a tremendous power in 
 the land. He had supplied a great want. The Psalms 
 came to be sung in cottage and palace, by the mother at 
 the cradle, by the old man at the gate of heaven ; by the 
 Huguenots entering into towns as conquerors, and by the Hol- 
 landers as they broke into cathedrals and hurled the idols 
 to the ground. One glorious hymn of praise was now 
 breaking upon the ears of the Sorbonnists, and none of 
 them went forth to raise a mob. The citizens, young and 
 old, of all ranks, heard of the singing processions, left their 
 homes, ran to the spot and climbed the trees, listening with 
 a delight that was dangerous to Romanism. It is said that 
 these processions were formed on several evenings, nor did 
 the parliament interfere to prevent them. 
 
 King Henry had hastened from the wedding to visit his 
 army at Amiens. A messenger bore to him the news of 
 the night-processions, saying that an insurrection had 
 broken out in Paris. He could not believe it ; the noble 
 character of many of the persons forbade such a conclu- 
 sion. He did not dare to employ violent measures, for half 
 the nobility were in favour of the new opinions. His ardour 
 of persecution was restrained. He did nothing more than 
 to order his parliament to make inquiries, arrest some and 
 threaten all with death who should persist in such conduct.* 
 But the Cardinal of Lorraine, as chief inquisitor, looked 
 about for a noble victim. Wliere was the lord of Andelot? 
 
 After the taking of Calais he went to his estates in Brit- 
 
 * "Several persons were arrested on tliis occasion. So many edicts 
 have been published, accompanied by severe threats, that the affair 
 has dropped." — Calvin's Letters, div.
 
 A BOLDKR rnOTESTAXTISM. 101 
 
 tany. Henry kept track of him, not only as a valiant 
 officer, but as a suspected heretic. In the baggage of some 
 six hundred gentlemen, who had escaped with bare life at 
 Saint Quentin, certain forbidden books were found, and the 
 Spaniards were not slow in rejiorting to the French king 
 that "the pestilence" was rapidly spreading among his 
 nobles. On this point Herod and Pilate were friends. 
 The evidence was particularly strong against Andclot. 
 This was not all. He had engaged the services of Caspar 
 Carmel, who had married the niece of William Farel, and 
 preached to the church in Paris until his life was in peril. 
 He had begun the work of Reform in a province moi-e neg- 
 lected than any other. Carmel preached in his house, 
 visited the towns and soon saw ten Reformed churches in 
 Brittany, with pastors from Geneva. It was the first ex- 
 am|)le of what could be done by missionaries under the 
 patronage of the nobility. Reports went to the king. 
 Andelot must receive attention. 
 
 The black eye of the Spaniard was upon him. Here 
 begins the long series of Spanish intrigues in France (1558) 
 which so greatly affected Protestantism. Philip was the 
 grand manager ; the Guises were the tools. He wisely 
 chose his agents. One was his cousin, the Duchess Chris- 
 terne of Lorraine, who had sharply spied out the ground. 
 The otlier was Antony Perrenot, best known as Cardinal 
 Granvelle, the tyrant of the Tsetlierlands. "NVary, crafty 
 and ambitious, he knew how to handle the Guises, whom 
 he met at Perronne. "From this central point," says 
 Motley, " commenced the weaving of that widespread 
 scheme, in which the fate of millions was to be involved." 
 After a first course of cajoleries, Granvelle brought on the 
 substantials, and said to the Guises : " What a special 
 providence is tlie captivity of Montmorency and Coligny ! 
 So Philip regards it. They are out of the way, and you 
 9 *
 
 102 ADMIRAL COI.IGNV. 
 
 have in your lumds the destiny of France — yes, of all 
 Europe. . . . The war between Henry and Philip must be 
 closed. Then the two nionarchs can unite heart and hand 
 for the extirpation of heresy. It must be rooted out of 
 France and Flanders." 
 
 The vain Guises were delighted with the programme. 
 The duke was to war away, while the cardinal nurtured the 
 olive branches. The understanding was to be a profound 
 secret. The crusade must have no Peter the Hermit to 
 preach it. Thus was laid the first great plot against the 
 French Protestants. 
 
 But there was one representative of Montmorency and 
 the Chatillons still at large. Granvelle said: " You must 
 utterly crush those rivals. The royal graces have been 
 quite too plentiful toward the Colignys. Strike at the 
 source ; destroy the credit of Andelot with the king." 
 
 "Throw terror into the nobility," said Christerne, "by 
 having him made an example; him the first of the nobles 
 who has professed the heresy. He will lead the gentlemen 
 of war into it." 
 
 " I hear that he dogmatizes about the mass." 
 
 "And those books found at St. Quentin — " 
 
 "Ah! more than that," said Granvelle, gossipping out 
 the frightful secret. " Only the other day his letters were 
 intercepted on the road to his brother, and they leave not a 
 doubt of his heresy. I tell you, I will not make overtures 
 of peace with the consent of my master unless this matter 
 is taken in hand. But it must be a secret. Your zeal for 
 our Catholic religion is the pledge for that." 
 
 The ruin of Andelot was thus plotted.* These Spanish 
 suggestions were borne to the king. " I am glad," said he, 
 
 * " La perte de D' Andelot fut rc^sohie." Pcrau, Vie D'Andelot; 
 D'Auvigny, Vie de Cardinal de Lorraine; a fine historical essay upon 
 the events of the period.
 
 A UOI.BER PROTESTANTISM. 103 
 
 " tliiit my royal brother of Spain is s^o-porfectly aware that 
 the errors of Calvin are spreading among tiie nobles of 
 France." 
 
 " Andelot is pointed out as having blasphemed publicly 
 against the mass," said the Cardinal of Lorraine. 
 
 The king was exceedingly touched at the mention of this 
 name, which ho had once so ardently loved. " Can it be," 
 he asked, " that he has grown so bold and so impious?" 
 
 "Try him. You know how frank and honest he is." 
 The wily cardinal hoped to bring Andelot into the net, 
 W'here the king would have his own ears filled with the 
 evidence, and then the doom of the heretic would be sealed. 
 
 "Let us be gentle," said Henry. "Give him a chance 
 to creep out of the difficulty. Let him evade or deny 
 Granvelle's charges, and then we can proceed with the 
 treaty." Even a persecutor may have a heart for a once 
 familiar friend. 
 
 The i)lan was arranged. Andelot was invited to the 
 court by his brother Odet and his cousin Francis Mont, 
 niorency. They told him all that the king had said upon 
 the subject of his heresy. He was too acute to be blinded, 
 too honest to conceal his views, too brave to shrink from 
 the consequences. " If you simply deny that you are a 
 Lutheran or Calvinist, the king will be content," was their 
 counsel. 
 
 "I shall say just what I mean," he replied. "I must 
 respect myself and honour my conscience." His brother 
 and his cousin trembled for him because they were in sym- 
 pathy with his opinions. They knew that he had openly 
 set at naught the edicts against " heretics," but they also 
 knew that Henry sought to let him escape through some 
 narrow evasion. Their advice was : " You are to dine with 
 the king. For your life's sake be careful what you say. 
 You will not be asked to declaim against the errors of the
 
 104 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 Church. Only admit tliat the Catholic Church is the true 
 and ancient one, meaning what you Avill by catholic — of 
 Rome say nothing." 
 
 Andclot was ushered into the royal palace, where the 
 Cardinal of Lorraine was waiting to see whether king or 
 noble knew most of theology. The chords of the old 
 friendship were retuned in the table-talk. Henry spoke 
 of the soldier's merits and the honours bestowed upon him, 
 and then said : " I learn that you have given your mind to 
 these new doctrines which are rending in twain the Church. 
 I could not believe it at first — and — indeed — really — " 
 
 "Sir, you need not hesitate," replied Andelot; "your ex- 
 ceeding bounty toward me requires every service that I can 
 render you. I am as ready as ever to devote my sword, 
 fortune and life to the royal cause. But when I have done 
 my duty to your majesty, do not take it amiss if I spend 
 the rest of my time in working out my salvation." 
 
 " Your loyalty is not in question ; it is your doctrine." 
 
 " That, sir, which I have had preached is the pure word 
 of God. It was approved by the ancient Church and by 
 our forefathers." 
 
 " You were at the Pre aux Clercs, so I am told ?" 
 
 " I was not there ; but had I been I should not think 
 that I had acted against God or your majesty. For I 
 learn that nothing was there done but to sing David's 
 Psalms, and pray God for the welfare of yourself and your 
 kingdom." 
 
 " You have sent some Genevan books to your brother — 
 forbidden books." 
 
 " I have, sir — such books as cheered me in my prison at 
 Milan. I thought it very proper to send them to comfort 
 the admiral under the tediousness of his captivity, which 
 he suffers for your majesty's sake." 
 
 "What of the ma^s?"
 
 A BOLDER PROTESTANTISM. 105 
 
 " I confess that I have not lieard mass for a h)ng time, 
 but I did not absent myself from churches and chapels ex- 
 cept for good reasons which you would approve if you 
 should consider them ; for one was, I was often wholly en- 
 gaged in your service. If this be an error — " 
 
 The Cardinal of Lorraine saw that the king was quite 
 bafHed, and he took up the matter, saying, " My good sir, 
 think upon what you have said ; you are in a bad case." 
 
 " My lord cardinal," replied Audelot, " I am well satis- 
 fied with my doctrine, and you know better than you talk. 
 I ajopeal to your conscience if you have not favoured that 
 same holy doctrine ; but the honours of this life have quite 
 changed your mind, and you are now a persecutor of those 
 who hold what you know to be true." This thrust was 
 enough to make Lorraine cautious. It was quite certain 
 that he had pretended to favour the Lutheran Confession 
 of Augsburg, and he had caused some to think that only 
 his love of benefices had kept him within the Roman 
 pale. 
 
 "But I did not give you this badge of knightliood to 
 use it thus," said the king, pointing to Andrlot's collar. 
 " You then promised and swore to go to mass and to follow 
 your religion." 
 
 " I did not then know what it was to be a Christian, and 
 I would not have accepted it on that condition had God 
 touched my heart as he has since." 
 
 " Tell me, then, what you think of the sacrifice of the 
 mass?" 
 
 " I regard it as a gross impiety — a horrible profanation." 
 
 At this the angry king started up from the table, seizing 
 a plate, as if to hurl it at the man on whom he had lavished 
 such jn-etended affection. He held it poised for a moment, 
 and then, like a child that dare not give full vent to his 
 wrath, he dashed it down with such violence that one of thu
 
 106 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 fragments wounded his son Francis, the dauphin, who was 
 silting at the table. 
 
 " Begone !" said the angry king, grasping his sword. 
 And the brave Andelot went; not far, however, for he was 
 arrested near the palace.* 
 
 The same day on which Andelot was arrested his com- 
 mission of colonel-general was taken from him, and he was 
 sent to the prison of the Bishop of Meaux, a sort of eccle- 
 siastical jail. He was liable at any hour to be given over 
 into the hands of inquisitors and tortured until his an- 
 swers would satisfy his judges. Certain zealots urged the 
 king to burn him as a heretic. On coming to more sober 
 thoughts, Henry saw the folly of such extreme measures, 
 and wrote to the veteran Montmorency an account of the 
 provocation which he had received from his kin.^man, en- 
 treating him to be at ease, for that all was pardoned. 
 
 Andelot soon learned the nature of tlie pardon. It was 
 simply a change of jjrisons. He was removed from the 
 grasp of Lorraine's inquisitors and escorted by ten archers 
 to the more comfortable castle of Melun. Soon after 
 reaching the castle, his wife and his brother Odet en- 
 treated him to confess his fault and apologize to the king. 
 His wife's health required him to retire with her to his 
 estates. But he was unyielding. Others plied him with 
 their Jesuitry, and a doctor of Paris was promised him. 
 
 " I have news," he wrote to the church of Paris. " It is, 
 that to-morrow will arrive the doctor they wish to send me. 
 I pray that God will put into my mouth wherewith to 
 answer always for his glory. . . . Christ will be magnified 
 in my body, either by life or death ; for me to live is Christ, 
 and to die is gain, by means of whose grace I hope to make 
 known to those who shall ask an account of my faith that 
 I fear God and honour my king, as I have been com- 
 
 * The above details in Perau, Laval and Piiaux.
 
 A BOLDER PROTEbTAXTISM. I(l7 
 
 nuinded. ... As to the things of the soul and the peace 
 of my conscience, I shall give an account of theai, as well 
 as I can, to Ilini who alone can dispose of them." (1st 
 July, 1558.) 
 
 To King Henry he wrote : " If I have done anything 
 Avhich displeases you, Sire, I entreat you, with all humble- 
 ness, to pardon me, and to believe that, excepting the case 
 of the obedience which I owe to God and to my conscience, 
 you shall never command me to do anything wherein I shall 
 not promptly and faithfully expose my wealth, my boily 
 and my life. And what I ask of you, Sire, is not, thank 
 God ! from fear of death, and still less from a desire of 
 recovering my liberty ; for I hold nothing so dear that I 
 would not willingly abandon it for the salvation of my soul 
 and the glory of my God ; but, nevertheless, the perplexity 
 in which I am, in wishing to satisfy you and perform the 
 service which I owe you, and not be able to do it with a 
 safe conscience, oppresses my heart, so that to ease my mind 
 I have been forced to address you this humble petition." 
 (July, 1558.)* 
 
 This treatment of such a nobleman made a great noise. 
 Pope Paul IV. was kept fully informed of the progress of 
 the affair from the beginning. He was delighted ; he ex- 
 tolled the king's piety and self-sacrifice! and kindling with 
 his theme, as if he already snuffed the fumes of an approach- 
 ing holocaust, he exclaimed, " What is fitting on such an 
 occasion but to leap on the neck of the criminal and to 
 burn him alive on the spot!" 
 
 "It is out of the question," replied the French ambassa- 
 dor, " to treat a Chatillon in such a way, especially tlie 
 nephew of the constable and the brother of the admiral." 
 
 " A heretic never repents," answered the pope ; " it is an 
 evil for which there is no remedy but the fire."t This was 
 
 * Bonnet's Isotes to Calvin's Letters. f Perau, Smcdiey.
 
 108 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 a high coniplimcut to the firmness of the Protestants in the 
 truth of God. 
 
 In other distant quarters there was a deep sympathy for 
 Andelot. At Geneva, Calvin wrote, "The details we have 
 learned, not by hearsay, but from his own letters. What- 
 ever be the result, he has so well learned the lesson of re- 
 nouncing ever3'thing which might turn him aside from the 
 right path that all his relations and even his wife have 
 given over tormenting him. . . . Now, that the threats 
 have been redoubled, and he has been informed that it has 
 been decided to shut him up all the rest of his life, you will 
 see, by his letters, what a befitting frame of mind God has 
 bestowed upon him." Calvin wrote to him giving advice 
 and encouragement.* He was also visited by the ministers 
 of Paris, who had baptized his little daughter, born a few 
 days after he had been thrust into the castle. 
 
 At length his relatives brought all their pleas to bear 
 upon his mind, and the king's confessor, a doctor of the 
 tSorbonne, came to wind himself into the confidence of the 
 prisoner and sap that firmness which had repelled every 
 open attack. He^ was so wrought upon that he finally 
 yielded in a moment of weakness and consented to write a 
 letter of submission to the king. The letter does not betray 
 a crouching spirit, nor anything like a recantation, although 
 the high tone of courage is reduced, as the reader may see: 
 "Sire, I have received singular pleasure from the company 
 of Dr. Rusle, whom I have detained two days, both to be 
 instructed and to give him some slight explanation of my 
 faith and religion, which I should be sorry were such as 
 some have perhaps been inclined to believe. I very hum- 
 bly beg your majesty to favour me by giving him a patient 
 hearing, and I trust in God that, after his report, you will 
 not remain dissatisfied with me, for some part of it will 
 * Calvin's Letter?, ccccxcvii., cliii., div.
 
 A BOLDER PROTESTANTISM. 109 
 
 give you sati.sfaftion. I .•^hall inforin your majesty that I 
 will obey you, as God commands me and the duty of your 
 very humble and obliged servant requires." (7th July, 
 1558.) 
 
 This was quite ambiguous ; it could be easily interpreted 
 to please the king, and yet Andelot could claim that he 
 had (qualified all his concessions. It was not, however, 
 worthy of him, who had all along been so free from double- 
 meaning phrases. The king was not quite satisfied. 
 
 lint the following winter months brought about the re- 
 lease of Montmorency, who interceded boldly for his nephew. 
 Wife, uncle and the Jesuits were too much both for king 
 and captive. At last Henry gave the condition of release, 
 by saying : 
 
 " Let him hear mass in his cell." Andelot consented to 
 simply hear mass, but he took no part in the service. The 
 doors were opened ; he was set free, but he never ceased to 
 reproach himself for what he had thus permitted. Beza 
 says, " He always condemned the act, even till death, and 
 amended it by all the means which it is possible to desire." 
 
 The tidings of Andelot's error was soon known through- 
 out the church of Paris. " Alas !" wrote one of the pas- 
 tors to Calvin, "shall he in whom we triumphed fall off', 
 that God may humble us in every manner?" Calvin wrote 
 him a letter, which might well lead him to repentance. 
 The young minister, Francis Morel, sent better news to 
 Geneva at the close of the year : " Admonished by our 
 brother Gaspard (Carrael), he did not long defend his course, 
 but sorrowing ingenuously confessed it, and said that he 
 would henceforth strive openly to woi'ship God." 
 
 Vol. I.— 10
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 COURAGE IN HIGH PLACES. 
 (1S58, 1559,) 
 
 THE Admiral Coligny had been near the brink of the 
 grave Avhile sick in a Flemish castle. Scarcely had he 
 recovered when he asked for a Bible, and he gave himself 
 ■wholly up to its study for many weeks. The letters of his 
 brother had not all been intercepted by the agents of Gran- 
 velle. The terrible affair of St Jacques, the imprisonment 
 of the noble ladies of the court, the martyrdoms and the 
 inquisition of the Cardinal of Lorraine Avere reported to 
 him. But all this did not blunt his taste for the new doc- 
 trines.* 
 
 Andelot sent him religious books and opened the way for 
 a correspondence with Calvin. *' I shall not employ any 
 long exhortations," wrote the Genevan Reformer, " to con- 
 firm you in patience, because I am of ojoinion, nay, I have 
 heard, that our heavenly Father has so fortified you by 
 the power of his Spirit that I should rather praise him for 
 his kindness than urge you to greater efforts. And, in fact, 
 here it is that true greatness of mind should make itself 
 manifest; viz., in overcoming all our passions in order not 
 only to gain the victory over them, but to offer a true sacri- 
 fice of obedience to God. . . , Let me call your attention 
 to one thing more, which is, that in sending this affliction 
 upon you, God has intended to draw you apart and whisper 
 in your ear, so that you would listen to him more atteu- 
 
 * Pcniu, Vie de Coligny. 
 110
 
 COURAGE IX HIGH PLACES. Ill 
 
 lively. Give good heed to liiiii and make progress in his 
 school." * 
 
 Tlie same day Calvin wrote a consoling letter to Madame 
 de Coligny, of ^vhom a historian of those times rehites : 
 " This lady had always been much attaclied to religion, and 
 possessed of the highest constancy in suj)porting her own 
 afflictions and those of her husband. Among other virtues 
 and gifts of mind wliich rendered her commendable, the 
 care which she took of the i)oor and the sick and her alms 
 were singularly praiseworthy." 
 
 The aged Montmorency, still a prisoner in Flanders, was 
 engaged in drawing up articles of peace. On the third of 
 April, 1559, the treaty of peace was effected at Cateau, 
 near Cambray, and therefore called the peace of Cateau- 
 Cambresis. Philip and Henry were to restore to one an- 
 other all that each had gained during eight years of war. 
 This paved the way for the release of Admiral Coligny, his 
 uncle and his brother ; but the first had still to pay fifty 
 thousand crowns for his liberty. Calvin feared lest he 
 should be asked to declare himself a Romanist as a condi- 
 tion of his release, and he therefore wrote to Madame 
 Coligny : " I entreat you to be prepared to hold out against 
 the alarms that may be got up against you. For, however 
 excellent may be his inclination to dedicate himself to God, 
 I fear whether he will be able to remain unshaken by the 
 murmurs and threats of his uncle [oNIontmorency, a zealous 
 Catholic], or the solicitation of his brother [Odet]. Reflect 
 also that it is your duty to aid him in taking courage by 
 your example." 
 
 Such fears were needless. Coligny paid his ransom and 
 
 retired to his estates at Chatillon. Weary of the factions 
 
 at court, unwilling to serve a king whom the Guises ruled, 
 
 and seriously thinking of abandoning the papal religion, 
 
 * Letters of Sept. 4, 1558.
 
 112 ADMIRAL COLIGNY, 
 
 he offered to resign certain important offices. He resigned 
 the government of Paris and the Isle of France in favour 
 of his cousin Francis Montmorency, and earnestly besought 
 the king to namea successor for his government of Picardy. 
 " I wonder at your resolution," -svas Henry's reply. Others 
 wondered, and began to suspect that " he had changed his 
 religion, for he made it very evident that his mind was 
 altogether drawn off from all coveting of honour and power" 
 — an evidence of religious devotion that might not be amiss 
 in the present century. 
 
 By anticipating a little, we follow Coligny to his home. 
 Having leisure in his castle, he gave much of his time to 
 biblical studies. His noble-hearted wife, Charlotte Laval, 
 " was wonderfully given to the Reformed religion," and she 
 assisted him with all earnestness and sympathy. Andelot 
 sometimes came to warn of danger, which he had known, 
 and to derive new strength for coming conflicts. Odet laid 
 his red cap aside and sought to prevent his brother from 
 incurring the royal wrath as Andelot had done. But he re- 
 ceived a new knowledge, whose results will be seen at a 
 later day. Henceforth the names of these three men are 
 interwoven with the French Reformation and with the 
 history of France. Sismondi declares that " the court of 
 France had never yet presented a finer combination of 
 bravery, talents and virtues" than was exhibited in the 
 brothers of the noble house of Chatillon. " Odet wore the 
 cardinal's purple, more worthily, perhaps, than it was ever 
 worn in that or any generation." The Abbe Perau de- 
 clares, with other writers, that the Coligny brothers were 
 the first noblemen of the court who embraced Calvinism. 
 "The capacity of the three brothers, their high degree of 
 intelligence, their alliances, their offices and the extent of 
 their correspondence soon rendered formidable to the court
 
 COURAGE IN HIGH PLACES. 113 
 
 the party wliicli thoy organizcl in the ?tate."* But it will 
 be interesting to trace the steps by which the admiral was 
 led to make the public avowal of his new faith. It was his 
 heroic wife who conquered his timidity. 
 
 " IIow wonderful !" said Madame Ciiarlotte to her hus- 
 band, on an evening when they were gazing from the castle 
 tower and admiring the glory of God revealed in the starry 
 heavens — " how wonderful that you and Monsieur Andelot 
 sliould have been blest in your cajjtivity with a knowledge 
 of the truth! And now why do you not publicly avow 
 your faith as he has done, and have a chaplain with us, 
 j)reacliing in the castle and in the towns about us?" 
 
 " Perhaps I should quail as he has done, if I were thrown 
 into prison and beset with temptations and the tears of his 
 wife. I might not hold out through all the siege." 
 
 j\[adame Charlotte would not prove the tempter in such 
 a case. "Think," she said, "your wife would never entreat 
 you with tears to submit at the expense of your faith and 
 your honour." 
 
 " Do you believe it? Would you encourage me to remain 
 firm, whatever might happen?" 
 
 " Indeed I would ; for though the trial of seeing you in 
 prison for your faith would crush me, yet I would be 
 crushed to nothing a thousand times rather than have you 
 deny Christ." 
 
 " This has been the last cable which has held me to the 
 Roman Church. I have feared the trials that I might 
 bring upon your path, while I have not been regardless of 
 those which I might be called to endure. It is wise to 
 count the cost of being a true Christian — " 
 
 "It is wiser to count the cost of not being a true Chris- 
 tian. In the one case the cost is tcm})oral, in the other it 
 
 * An(|iictil, L'Esprit tie la Ligiic. In tho details given below I 
 follow the Vita Colinii, Brantoiue, Courtiltz and Perau. 
 10 »
 
 114 ADMIRAL COLTGNY. 
 
 is eternal ; in tlic one the body pays it, but in the other the 
 soul pays it for ever." 
 
 " You are right," replied the admiral, whose old habit of 
 slow speaking was not broken by his wife's lively and rapid 
 speech ; " but allow me a little time to explain. I have 
 wondered at the courage of those who could avow them- 
 selves Protestants in the face of tortures and death by fire. 
 To face the cannon's mouth is nothing to that ! For what 
 are the chances of escape? I know of no Protestants who 
 have not been severely punished by the laws of France. 
 Whoever makes a public profession of his faith is likely to 
 be seized, burned and his property confiscated to the king. 
 If he undertake secretly to cherish the living word of God 
 he is suspected ; whispers reach the ear of parliament, and 
 he is ti'eated with extreme rigour. But if I were alone in 
 the world, all this would not alarm me. I have thought of 
 you and our children. Yet, if you are so prepared with 
 faith and courage that you can undergo what is common to 
 others, you shall see that I will not be wanting in my duty." 
 
 Even her tears did not prevent ]Madarae Coligny from 
 making a prompt reply : " The condition of true Christians 
 is not different from what it always has been and may 
 always be. Our Lord foresaw it when he told us to 'fear 
 not them that kill the body, and after that have no more 
 that they can do.' You cannot refuse to be, at least, a 
 secret follower of Christ ; but you cannot safely be a hidden 
 disciple, for if yon are ashamed of him before men, he will 
 deny you before his heavenly Father and the holy angels. 
 Nor will you be safe even from violent men ; they will sus- 
 pect you, and drag you from your castle and put you to the 
 rack-, and, if possible, treat you more cruelly than if you 
 were known to all the world as not only a disciple, but a 
 leader among the Protestants." 
 
 " Enough, madame. It was only for your sake that I
 
 COURAGE IN IIKJH PLACES. 115 
 
 had thought of these terrors; as for my.«elf, I have dwelt 
 upon the joys of religion. What delight to have a family 
 altar, a chaplain in our castle, a church growing up in our 
 town, a gospel preached to the poor, and an open fellowship 
 with ^Iiidaiuo Renee just up at Moutargis,"^ or ha2)py visits 
 between us and the house of Navarre." 
 
 "And the joys beyond all these! the glories of the eter- 
 nal heavens ! " exclaimed Madame Charlotte, with her eyes 
 fixed upon the stars of midnight. There was silence ; the 
 clock struck, and the tower was left to its loneliness. 
 
 The visitors who next came to the castle to congratulate 
 the hero of Saint Quentin upon his release from captivity 
 were not a little surprised to hear him openly profess the 
 Reformed creed. He told them of a deliverance from an- 
 other bondage and of a new liberty. A thorough reform 
 had taken place in his house. He gave the Scriptures to 
 his servants, and exhorted them to follow his example. He 
 forbade all profane swearing among them, and gave them 
 a higher idea of life. He engaged pious teachers for his 
 children, and establislied schools among the poor. He 
 began to attend the meetings held by the Protestants, but 
 did not yet j)artake of the Lord's Sa]»per, for he still had 
 
 * To the Duchess of Ferr.ira, Calvin had written : " I liear tliat vou 
 are not without tliorns in your own liou.~e. But still you must over- 
 come that evil with the rest." Her liusband died October 3d, 1559, 
 leaving certain Italian estates to her, "so long as she should live as a 
 good Catholic." But she might have a lioine at Montargis, near Cha- 
 tillon, and there live a.s a good Protestant, which she preferred to do. 
 No golden chain could bind her to an Italy of persecution. Her son 
 succeeded to the duchy, and compelled her to choose between a change 
 of religion or a departure from Ferrara. She left for France, a fact 
 greatly lamented by the people, who for thirty years liad k>ved her for 
 her mental vivacity, her graceful manners, her >me(pi;illed liberality 
 and her calm Christian character. — ^[urutori ; Mononats of Rente of 
 France.
 
 116 ADMIRAI> COI.IGXY. 
 
 some doubts \vhotlicr tlie broad and tlie wine wore not, in 
 some sense, cliangod into the bod}^ and blood of Christ. It 
 was a subject which lie often discussed with learned minis- 
 ters, but his questions had not yet been fully answered to 
 his satisfaction. 
 
 One day, being at Yatteville, listening to the "Word of 
 God, the truth began to break clearly upon his mind. 
 "When the Lord's Supper was about to be celebrated, he 
 rose and said, " I beseech the congregation not to take 
 oifence at my weakness, but to believe me sincere and pray 
 for me when I ask the minister to explain the Lord's Sup- 
 per a little more fully." All were astonished. 
 
 "The words of Augustine will relieve the mind of our 
 friend," said the preacher. " They are to this effect : ' To 
 eat that bread which does not perish, but which gives life, 
 is to believe in Christ. To believe is to eat,' and this faith 
 qualifies one to take this bread and wine. They remain 
 unchanged, but the believer receives Christ, when he prop- 
 erly receives them." 
 
 "Permit me, brethren, to return thanks to God for this 
 instruction," said the admiral, "and to the pastor, who has 
 so patiently given it. I now see that true preparation for 
 the supper is not in a change in the elements used, but in 
 the person using them ; he must have faith in Christ. God 
 sparing me, I shall seek to receive the communion on the 
 first day, hereafter when it is administered in my parish." 
 
 ""Why not now?" inquired the pastor. 
 
 " I have not made so public a profession of my faith as 
 I ought." 
 
 " You are making it now. Do you now profess to be- 
 lieve in the Lord Jesus Christ, as the only Saviour and In- 
 tercessor for fallen man? Do you agree with us in the 
 doctrines Avhich the Scriptures teach, so far as you know 
 them?"
 
 COURAGE IN IIKill I'LACES. 117 
 
 " Most sincerely I do," rei)li('(l the admiral, moved with 
 deep feeling, to which the audience responded with sighs 
 and tears. 
 
 "Then in the name of my Lord, and of my brethren, I 
 invite you to this table, unless the elders think that our 
 usual rules should be strictly observed." 
 
 " r>y no means let us debar the Lord's chosen disciple, 
 for it is the Lord's table," said a venerable elder, who 
 spoke the mind of his brethren. " AVhere the S])irit of the 
 Lord is, there is liberty." 
 
 The admiral and Charlotte Coligny were among the 
 happiest of the joyful band who then remembered the Lord 
 Jesus in this legacy of his dying love. The scene was 
 almost heavenly ; the effect of it was powerful and extended. 
 The villagers would never forget it. The report of it spread 
 throughout France. The old " Memoires," which have sup- 
 plied the materials for our description, say, "it is impossible 
 to describe the joy and consolation which all the churches 
 thence received." 
 
 From the same "Memoires" we learn something of "the 
 daily order of his house," which will serve as a specimen 
 of what became usual in the families of the nobility in those 
 times. Indeed among the earnest Christians of that day 
 there was a family worship, more lengthy, formal and 
 solemn than is now often to be found. Perhaps in our 
 haste and brevity we are apt to make ours a mere formal- 
 ity. Theirs was a service, as the habits of Coligny will 
 show. " As soon as he left his bed, which in general was 
 very early in the morning, and had wrapt his gown around 
 bim, he knelt down with his household and nuide a prayer 
 after the form of the French Huguenot churches ; after 
 •which, while he was waiting for the jireachment, which 
 took place every other day with psalm-singing, he gave 
 audience to the deputies of the churches that were sent to
 
 118 ADMIRAL COIJGNY. 
 
 him, or he employed liimself in public matters. Sometimes 
 he did business after the sermon until the dinner-hour. 
 
 " When dinner was ready, his household servants, except 
 the cooks and waiters, stood in the great hall. Then, stand- 
 ing at the table, with his wife at his side, he observed wor- 
 ship. If there had been no sermon that morning, a psalm 
 was sung; then a benediction was pronounced. Of this an 
 infinity, not only of Frenchmen, but of German captains 
 and colonels, can bear witness that he kept this observance, 
 without omitting it a single day, not only in his own house, 
 but also when with the army. The cloth having been re- 
 moved after dinner, he rose with his family and attendants, 
 and either returned thanks himself or had his chaplain do so. 
 The same thing was observed at supper. As some of his 
 household could not well be present at the evening prayer, 
 he ordered them all to appear in the great hall after supper ; 
 there they engaged in psalms and prayers. At such times 
 he often summoned all his tenants, told them that he 
 would have to render to God an account of his own life, 
 of his care over them and of their conduct; and reconciled 
 them together if there had happened to be any quarrels 
 among them. 
 
 "And it would not be easy to say how many of the 
 French nobility began to establish in their families these 
 devout rules of the admiral, who often exhorted them to 
 the true practice of piety, saying that it was not enough 
 that the father of a family lived holily and religiously, if 
 he did not by his example induce others to follow the same 
 rule. ... Of wine he drank very little ; he ate sparingly 
 and slept, at most, but seven hours." Such were some of 
 the customs of " the greatest layman of the French Refor- 
 mation." And yet this is the man whom prejudice has 
 often represented as ambitious of power, restless in peace, 
 anxious for war, and fomenting discord and rebellion. The
 
 COUUAG1-: IX HIGH I'Laces. 119 
 
 slanderous sentence, first uttered by an enemy, has been 
 handed down from one to another, that his greatest exploits 
 were against his God, his king and his country. The facta 
 vill prove that he was godly, loyal and patriotic. His ene- 
 mies prove it ; for his kind of piety was a crime in their 
 eyes, and Protestantism an intolerable rebellion against 
 Home. But we need not plead ; our task is to narrate. 
 
 While Coligny was furnishing to the nobility a model of 
 family government, a few Protestant pastors were setting 
 before the world the model of an ecclesiastical court. It 
 was a bold step for even bold men, during those stormy 
 days. It was held shortly after the release of Coligny and 
 Andelot, and they may have taken some interest in it, al- 
 though it was known only to the faithful. In the convening 
 of this first national synod of France, much was due to the 
 energy of a young nobleman who had given all to the 
 Reform. 
 
 The lord of La Roche died in his chateau near ]Ma9on, 
 leaving a fortune to his son Antony, a child of four years. 
 Another son became a captain in the army under Coligny. 
 The family was noble and ancient. The young son was 
 taken to Paris and placed in charge of a teacher, who let 
 fall into his heart the seeds of a holy truth. These grew 
 rapidly when the lad went to study law at Toulouse, into 
 wliich Calvin and his friends had borne the Gospel. He 
 talked with the Protestant students ; his mind was not at 
 rest ; he must see and hear the Reformers at Geneva. 
 Thither he went, and was confirmed in the faith. Do Thou 
 describes him as a youtli "in whom nobility of birth, come- 
 liness of face, learning, elot^uence and a s-iiigular modesty 
 vied with each other." 
 
 On his return to Paris he cast in his lot with the Protest- 
 ant church, then under the care of Francis Morel, the lord 
 of Colonges, by whom he was persuaded to give up the law
 
 120 ADMIFvAL, COLIGNY. 
 
 and study theology. It is not a little singular that this 
 church had so many pastors who were young noblemen ; 
 perhaps the hope was to ensure it more favour with the 
 court. It was soon to have another. This flock called 
 Antony Chandieu to the ministry, at the age of twenty 
 years. He was probably in the St. Jacques affair ; and 
 this may have prompted him to take up his pen in defence 
 of the nightly assemblies of the Protestants for the cele- 
 bration of the Lord's Supper. Had not the Lord himself 
 instituted it by night, surrounded by enemies? The tract 
 fell into the hands of the priests. Chandieu w'as thrown 
 into prison for heresy. When the King and Queen of 
 Navarre came to court they set him free, that he too might 
 sing the Psalms of David on the commons, if he chose. 
 He visited Geneva. During the troubles in Paris, Calvin 
 wrote to the church there: " We have chosen from among 
 our colleagues the fittest for this mission. Meanwhile avail 
 yourselves of what God grants you; besides, our excellent 
 brother M. de la Roche [Chandieu] has promised to return 
 soon and labour among you as valiantly as ever."* 
 
 At this point a lively pen has portrayed him as " the 
 ardent minister, made spare by his vigils, with brown hair, 
 eyes aflame, short chin, sallow face, eloquent lips, a military 
 bearing, and full of that Christian faith which produced 
 pastors courageous and powerful among the people. The 
 aide-de-camp of Calvin and Beza, he fitly represented the 
 Reformation." Another calls him, "one of the most illus- 
 trious ministers and devout actors of the terrible drama 
 called the Reform. Braving the cruel edicts, he came to 
 Paris." t 
 
 Chandieu had the talent for organizing more perfectly 
 
 * Calvin's Letters, cccclxxxvi. 
 
 t Tliiiiini Ilistoria, lil>. xxix. ; Lacratelle, Balzac, and the Biograpbie 
 Universelle.
 
 COUUAGE IN HIGH PLACES. 121 
 
 the elements of the Protestant Church in France. He 
 went into Poitiers, where the fruits of Calvin's early- 
 labours were abundant, and had a conference with the 
 faithful. The Lord's Supper was celebrated. At this 
 reunion of pastors and people, the question arose, How they 
 might better arrange their parishes and promote a more 
 effective discipline? Chandieu threw out certain ideas of 
 organization which struck his brethren with force. " Why 
 not," they asked — "why not have all the churches of France 
 united in one confession of faith and one form of govern- 
 ment?" 
 
 The idea was to become a fact. Chandieu was empow- 
 ered to bring about a convention of ministers and elders at 
 Paris. In four months the quiet word went abroad to all 
 the churches. The faithful at the capital prepared to en- 
 tertain very secretly a goodly number of those who might 
 find a scaffold if they dared to show their faces in the 
 streets. The day came — it was May 25, 1559 — but what 
 a disappointment! Only the deputies of ten or twelve 
 churches appeared ; the rest found the difficulties so great 
 that they could not safely come. These ten came in the 
 very face of death.* 
 
 In the chambers of Parliament noisy debates were raised 
 by fiery persecutors. In some retired room in the suburbs 
 of Saint Germain, then called "little Geneva," f the per- 
 secuted met to frame a constitution for the churches of 
 France. To fully portray the contrast would require a 
 volume. Francis Morel was chosen moderator of this first 
 
 * " Spreto certne necis inetu ad urbeiu conveiiiunt." — Jlmani Iliss- 
 toria, lib. xxii. These represented the churches of Dieppe, St. Loo, 
 Anglers, Orleans, Tours, Saintcs, Poitiers, Marennes, Cliatellcrault, and 
 St. Jean d'Angeli. Laval, Puawx, Quiek. 
 
 t Sani;ermanuin sulmrhiuni quod vnlgo parvani Genevam voca- 
 bant. — Thuani Hid., lib. xxiii. 
 Vol. I.— U
 
 122 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 national synod. His nobility would have been no shield 
 had he been detected. The discussions were long, warm 
 and fraternal. In four days these men agreed upon a confes- 
 sion of faith, which bound the French churches in unity for 
 more than two centuries. It was the Presbyterian system 
 of doctrine and discipline, and need not here be described. 
 In it the genius of Calvin was manifest, and it perhaps 
 came from his hand. It seems to have been published by 
 Chandieu, but was hardly presented, as some assert, by 
 Coligny to King Henry 11. in the name of the synod. Au 
 event of this sort belongs to a later day. 
 
 That which struck the popular mind was that this synod 
 was held amid fires and gibbets, and just when the clouds 
 were gathering for a terrific storm of wrath. Historians 
 have admired the calm dignity, the serene force, the pro- 
 found secresy and the moral grandeur of this assembly. 
 The faithful saw the hand of Jehovah guiding his Church. 
 By his Spirit it had been well timed. Had it been at- 
 tempted at a later day it might have been a failure. Amid 
 deeper, angrier waters the foundations of a glorious Church 
 might not have been laid ; the grand light-house might not 
 have risen as an Eddystone tower in the channel of civil 
 wars. There was reason to believe that four hundred thou- 
 sand people would rejoice in this union, and gradually form 
 a great party eager for the rights of conscience, of faith and 
 of worship. Not that all of them were devoted to piety, but 
 the Protestant churches would di'aw to them thousands who 
 desired more liberty in their political life. The deputies 
 parted with a grateful song and fervent prayer, and went 
 their way to endure with heroism the baptism of blood and 
 the trial by fire. They gave their confession to the world, 
 and then came the crisis. 
 
 Here, then, was a new organization, but did it "add 
 another element of strife to the contest between the two re-
 
 COURAGE IN irrnn places. 123 
 
 ligions?" What if it did? Expodioncy does not determine 
 its lawfulness. It was a dangerous jDolicy for the apostles 
 to reconstruct the Church in Jerusalem, but it was their 
 duty. There was no policy that would ensnre safety to 
 Chandieu and his brethren, but there was a necessity for 
 them to construct a fold for the beaten and hunted flock of 
 God. And what other form of church government would 
 have proved less offensive? Independency would have ex- 
 posed them just as much to the violence of their neighbours. 
 Episcopacy would have brought upon their bishops and 
 other clergy a hatred intensified by jealousy and com- 
 petition. Not as a policy, but as a principle, they chose Pres- 
 byterianism. No doubt " the Romish clergy abhorred it as 
 a sign of the increasing power and boldness of the Re- 
 formed party, while the statesmen of the day could not but 
 lijok upon it with suspicion as a sort of imperlum in im- 
 perlo ;" yet what possible escape would any other system 
 have aflbrded? Any Protestant form of church organi- 
 zation must have been as liable to be regarded by the 
 l)aj>ists as "a dangerous rival to the civil power, and 
 savonring of rebellion, inasmuch as it ignored the headship 
 alike of pope and king, acknowledging that of God alone." 
 When one party of the English Protestants ascribed a 
 "headship" to their king they were charged with "rebel- 
 lion" quite as much as the Puritans. It must have been so 
 in France, unless the king would accept the "headship" — a 
 tiling that none could expect — and, even then, Rome would 
 not have lessened her rigours. We can hardly thiidc that 
 "the Reformed Church would have struck deeper root" in 
 France if it had adopted a less republican form of govern- 
 ment. Reform in any shape was anti-pajjal, and therefore 
 intensely hated. 
 
 Wise or impolitic, these men asked that one question 
 which gave decision to the men of God in all ages: "Is it
 
 124 ADMIPAL COLIGNY. 
 
 right?" And they were only a few of those champions 
 who were then waging for us the battle of civil and religious 
 liberty. In seeking a Church free from popery, they were, 
 unconsciously, opening the road to a state free from ty- 
 ranny — a state which people in other lands were to estab- 
 lish. If our admiration of a recent writer is not apparent 
 in some of the preceding lines, we make amends by quoting 
 his compliment to " the history of the chief Calvinistic 
 churches." He affirms that, " In Switzerland and Holland, 
 in England and in North America, wherever this organi- 
 zation has been able to control the political power, a repub- 
 lic has followed. These are, indeed, the parts of the world 
 where liberty flourishes most, and for this noble fruit we 
 may well love the tree that bore it; but in the sixteenth 
 century the tendency of society was toward despotism, not 
 toward self-government ; and the statesmen of Europe must 
 be excused if they were not clear-sighted enough to see that 
 the new movement must inevitably succeed, or wise enough 
 to become the leaders and controllers of the popular 
 feelings."* 
 
 About four leagues north of Paris was the castle of 
 Ecouen, belonging to Montmorency, King Henry was 
 there in June, 1559, and, hearing of the synod, he put his 
 seal to an edict more terrific than that of Chateaubriand. 
 Death was the penalty upon every " Lutheran"- who was 
 convicted, and every one was sure to be if arrested. What 
 state crimes had these miscalled " Lutherans" introduced ? 
 None whatever. They had granted more than some men 
 would now concede as to the " first table" of the moral 
 law. In their synod they had declared that God had or- 
 dained governments of every sort, and that " He has put 
 
 * Henry White, Massacre of St. Bartholomew, London, 1S68. 
 This work came fresh to me while I was giving my mannscripts the 
 third revision. Compare Preface to Motley's Dutch Republic.
 
 COURAGK IN HKIII I'LACES. 125 
 
 the sword into the nia^.'-ist rate's hands to repress sins, not 
 only against the second table of God's commandments, but 
 likewise against the first. We must not only endure that 
 the superiors have rule over us, but likewise honour and 
 esteem them. . . . AVe hold that we must obey their laws, 
 pay all tribute, taxes and dues, and bear the yoke of sub- 
 jection with a good and free will, even though they should 
 be infidels; provided that the empire of God remain whole. 
 . . . We abhor those who reject superiorities, set up a com- 
 munity of goods, put everything in confusion and overturn 
 the order of justice." * These were the people marked for 
 death. 
 
 But first the persecut(jrs almost fell out among them- 
 selves. Parliament had established a chamber to take the 
 especial charge of the " Lutherans." It consigned so many 
 to the flames that it won for itself the awful name of " the 
 burning chamber." f It was sufficiently Spanish to treat 
 without mercy all who despised the mass. 
 
 A later creation was the Tournelfe, " a chamhor estab- 
 lislu'd in each {)arliament (of France) to judge of crimes 
 and heresies." I Cruel enough, it had nevertheless released 
 so many of the accused that the one in Paris was regarded 
 as a chamber of mercy. It often opened a door of escape 
 that the prisoner might flee to another clime. These two 
 courts were usually at war with each other, but a singular 
 ca.se increased the sharpness between them. 
 
 Four students, upright, blameless, but zealous Calvinists, 
 were tried by the lower courts and condemned to death. 
 
 '' For tlie lii.«tt)i-y and artii-Ii-s of tliis sviind, see Quick, Syiiodicoii 
 in Oallia Keformata ; Tliiiaiii Ilisloria; Muinoires de Condi'; Laval and 
 Piiaiix. 
 
 f TaillandiiT, llegistrcs dii Parliament. It is also called " La 
 Chambre des Lutherans." 
 
 X Taillandier. 
 11 *
 
 126 ADMIRAL COLIGXV. 
 
 They api->ealcd to tlie Tournelle. The president had the 
 young men In-ought before him. He was eager to annul 
 the horrible sentence, and he warned them to be cautious 
 and reserved in answering his questions. He tried them 
 on several points, and finally asked, " Do you believe that 
 Christ is really present in the Lord's Supper?" 
 
 " We believe that Christ is really present in his divine 
 nature ;" but as they had been put on their guard, they did 
 not explain the difference between the Romish doctrine of 
 the bodily presence and the Reformed doctrine of the 
 spiritual presence of Christ. 
 
 " That is sufficient," said the president, hoping that their 
 release was at hand. The majority of the judges were sat- 
 isfied. The former sentence would have been reversed if 
 one member had not asked, " Are you willing to assist at 
 mass ?" 
 
 " We are not," they replied, without hesitation. 
 
 " Why not? State your reasons." 
 
 The president, seeing that if they explained on tlie spot 
 they must be utterly lost, said, "You will give your reasons 
 in writing, and may have twenty-four hours to prepare your 
 answer." 
 
 The students cared less for their lives than for the truth, 
 and disdained to prevaricate. AVhen the court met again 
 their paper was read. The judges were astonished. It con- 
 tained one of the strongest protests against the mass. Still, 
 the greater part of the court persevered in mercy. They 
 Kiid, "The law pronounces death against those only who 
 deny the real presence; these young men admit a certain 
 real presence. The former sentence is revoked, but as they 
 have shown disrespect for the mass, they may be banished." 
 They were released, hapjiy in their exile. The public voice 
 loudly condemned this new interpretation of the law. The 
 "burning chamber" was indignant. "Why," said they,
 
 COURA(JK IX UK. II I'LACES. 127 
 
 "heresy is no longer a crime; even Calvin might teach his 
 cli)ctrine.s without fear ; magistrates who condemn Protest- 
 ants to death will be called murderers of the innocent." 
 
 King Henry was vexed by this clashing of the courts. 
 He saw the parliament of Paris diviiling into three parties; 
 one headed by Le Maitre, and bent upon defending the Ro- 
 man religion by the old system of persecution ; a second 
 led by men who sought to adopt a middle course and to 
 compromise with all parties; a third composed of secret 
 Reformers, who from day to day declared themselves more 
 opeidy, and sought to ensure liberty to the growing host of 
 Calvinists. The papal clergy took alarm, and others roused 
 the king. "Hang at least half a dozen of the councillors 
 as heretics," was the advice of the Duchess Diana. "Show 
 Philip, so soon to be your brother-in-law, that you are firm 
 in the faith." Did she wish to provide another entertain- 
 ment at the coming wedding? Lorraine assented, but tlie 
 Marshal Vieillville flung out his sarcasm : " If you (Henry) 
 are going to play the theologue and inquisitor, then let the 
 cardinal come and teach us how to hold our lances in the 
 tournament."* The Cardinal of Lorraine saw trouble in 
 advance to the rising power of the Guises. He knew that 
 almost all the nobles were opposed to a house founded by 
 his father, who was not a true Frenchman, however he 
 boasted of his descent from Charlemagne. He therefore 
 hastened to direct the royal eye to the breakers lying ahead 
 of his Guisean ship. " Do you soberly think," asked the 
 king, " that this sect, from Geneva will prove so dangerous ?" 
 
 "Be assured of it," replied the cardinal; "and let me 
 urge that the power of the State be employed for the de- 
 fence of the Church. If the secular arm fail in its duty, 
 all the malcontents will rush into this detestable sect; they 
 will destroy the power of the Ciiurch." .... 
 * M(5m. de Vieillville.
 
 128 ADMIRAL COT.IGXV. 
 
 "Is not the Churcli built on the rock of St. Peter? (You 
 see I remember your hi^it sermon.) And what can destroy 
 it?" 
 
 "Then, Sire, there is all the more reason to defend -what 
 cannot be destroyed ? That was the doctrine of my sermon. 
 If this be not done, these miserable sectarians will turn upon 
 you and destroy the regal power. Who knows what the 
 Colignys are hatching in their retirement? Who knows 
 what the Tournelle will next attempt? Verily the wrath 
 of God will rest upon you if you delay." 
 
 Henry wished to see with his own eyes and hear with 
 his own ears the state of things in his parliament. He 
 summoned the Wednesday-court,* composed of the presi- 
 dents and judges of the several courts, and other officers of 
 the crown. They met, and it was soon evident that the old 
 days of unity in hating new doctrines and burning heretics 
 without a protest were passing away. An angry debate 
 arose upon the mercies of the Tournelle, the recent sen- 
 tences, and the general treatment of heretics. President le 
 Maitre did his utmost to rouse a sweeping tempest against 
 the moderate party and the secret Reformers. The pope 
 never had a more zealous advocate for the inquisition ; he 
 would have rooted out the tares with hot pincers, at the risk 
 of Avithering the wheat, and made jiarliament solemn over 
 the funerals of its most humane members. When the de- 
 bate was at the highest pitch of excitement, a sudden inter- 
 ruption drew every eye to the doors. 
 
 By a preconcerted plan the king entered ; in his train 
 were Montmorency, the Guises, a troop of Guisards and a 
 strong-armed escort. The surprised members were cooled 
 by the rustling robes of their visitors, and gave silence to 
 their king. He informed them that he wished to profit by 
 
 * Called Merciiriales, becauiJe it was held on Wednesday, the dies 
 Mercurii. — Tallandier, Regislres du Parliament.
 
 COURAGE IN HIGH PLACES. 129 
 
 their discupsioiiis, and ordered them to proceed. Recover- 
 ing their spirits, they expressed their views freely and 
 cknirly. Louis (hi Fuur, a distinguished lawyer, took the 
 side of the Protestants. "The differences in religious opin- 
 ions are assuredly the cause of the present troul)les," said 
 he, "but the first step toward a remedy ought to be an in- 
 quiry into the parties. On which side does the chief blame 
 rest? That of the Protestants, or that of the government 
 which persecutes them? Let us search for this, lest the 
 question of the prophet* to the unrighteous Ahab be ap- 
 plied in this instance, 'Art thou he that troublest Israel?'" 
 The king made a note of this bold speech, which opened 
 the way for one bolder still. 
 
 Anne du Bourg arose. The gaze of all was fixed upon 
 one of the greatest men of the realm, who saw not yet the 
 glitter of the martyr's crown. He was thirty-eiglit years 
 of age, of a family honoured in his native Auvergne, and 
 the nephewf of a chancellor of France. He had studied 
 theology, been ordained a priest, then devoted himself to 
 the law, and in 1557 been elected to the parliament of 
 Paris. He was a man of great learning, integrity and liu- 
 mnn kindness. AVe must condense his speech. " I thank 
 tlic king," said he, " for his resolution to probe this ques- 
 tion to the core, and to act according to the rules of justice. 
 Of what crimes are these men guilty? Of treason? They 
 never omit the name of the king from their prayers. What 
 revolt have they headed? Ah ! they have discovered great 
 vices and scandals in the Koman Church, and petitioned 
 for a reform ! They have sought the truth, and I suspect 
 they have found it. . . . Why is the search for truth regarded 
 
 * It wa.s Aliab wlio put tliis question to the propliet. Du Fuur wjis 
 not the last public man who made an error in lii.s quotations from the 
 r.ihle. 
 
 t Calvin says, " the grandson of the Chancellor du Bourg."
 
 130 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 a crime ? Why must it be singled out and made the point 
 of attack ? There are crying sins, such as blasphemy, per- 
 jury and licentiousness, stalking abroad in noonday, un- 
 abashed and unpunished ; while new and unheard-of pen- 
 alties are devised against men guilty of no crime but that 
 of raising the lainp of Scripture, to discover by its light the 
 corruptions of Rome. Popes have refused to call a general 
 council to reform the abuses of the Church ; kings have 
 been too much occupied in schemes of ambition to attend 
 to spiritual affairs ; and a few courageous men have felt 
 compelled to take this great work in hand. They have 
 founded a goodly edifice on the Word of God and the dis- 
 cipline of the early Church. How praiseworthy the enter- 
 prise ! How great the blessings to be derived from it ! And 
 yet Christendom, for the most part, has arrayed itself 
 against this labour of love, by edicts and proscriptions, by 
 terms of punishment and threats of excommunication. They 
 have forgotten that the Father of all truth has freed the 
 soul of man from the sword of the tyrant, and that a well- 
 grounded opinion can never be destroyed except by the su- 
 perior weight of an opposite opinion more consonant with 
 reason. God forbid that France should persist in following 
 the insane example of Germany ! If she do, the land will 
 be fouled by massacre and carnage ; defaced by butchery 
 and scaff*olds ; blackened by the smoke of persecuting 
 flames ; and after all these horrors, we shall be eager to re- 
 trace every step which we have trodden in blood Let 
 
 me advise the king to employ every effort to call a general 
 council, and if he fail in that attempt, to assemble, in his 
 own realm, the most pious and learned divines, who may 
 confer together and effect a salutary reform. In the mean 
 time, let all suits for religious offences be suspended. It is 
 no light thing to condemn those w^ho confess the name of 
 Jesus Christ with piety in their harmless meetings, with
 
 COURAGE IN HIGH PLACES. 131 
 
 courage in the face of violence, and with gh)ry in tlio midst 
 of the flames." 
 
 " Rank licresy I" whispered certain persons, wh(; knew 
 that the sentiment would prove them to be loyal. ^More 
 cautious speeches followed from the moderate party. Then 
 the fiery Le Maitre arose, breathing the spirit of Torque- 
 niada, the champion of the Inquisition. He praised the 
 pious energy of Philip the August, who in a single day 
 ordered six hundred Albigenses to be burned in his presT 
 ence, and furnishccl the present king uith an example 
 worthy of imitation ! 
 
 The king arose greatly agitated. He thought that the 
 charge of gross crimes was hurled against himself, for con- 
 science was speaking. He conferred witli his cardinals; 
 then, leaving the chamber, he ordered Montgomery, the 
 commander of the Scotch guard, to arrest Du Faur and 
 Du Bourg, with six other members, who were at their 
 homes. Three of the nameless six had timely warning and 
 escaped. All the others were thrown into the Bastille, "the 
 abode of broken hearts." 
 
 " Hasten forward the proceedings," said Heniy, " for I 
 swear that both my eyes shall see Du Bourg burnt at the 
 stake." Nine days after the arrest the trial commenced. 
 He insisted upon being tried before his peers, but the king 
 appointed a commission, declaring that if the prisonfc»r 
 would not plead, he should be regarded as already con- 
 demned. He protested, but the trial went on. Questions 
 were asked him concerning his faith, and his answers were 
 so sound that he was pronounced a heretic. Short would 
 have been the work of death, but for one event, which will 
 be related in the next cha])ter. There were two things that 
 King Henry could do at the same time: order the burning 
 of heretics and engage in scenes of revelry. If he had 
 attended only to the first, he might have prolonged his
 
 132 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 own life ; if he had given himself wholly to the second, the 
 life of Du Bourg might not have been in jeopardy. In two 
 days more Henry would be struggling with death. 
 
 The prisoner in the Bastille kept his soul free from the 
 tyranny of man, delighted in the word of God, held fellow- 
 ship with the once crucified Lord, prepared himself for tlie 
 worst that man could do, and waited for that higher liberty 
 which no one fully knows until he enters heaven. Thus he 
 made his captivity blessed.* 
 
 * TImani, Historia; Lacratelle; Biographic Universelle.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 rUE GUISES IN I'OWER. 
 (1558-1530.) 
 
 COLIGNY and William of Orange had fought against 
 each other in Picardy, not foreseeing the warm friend- 
 ship that would some time bind them together in one great 
 cause. William had been the secret negotiator with Mont- 
 morency in the treaty of peace at Cateau. He Avas one of 
 the hostages selected by Henry II. to ensure the keeping of 
 the peace. While in France he made the singular discov- 
 ery which was to colour his life. He was one day hunting 
 with the king in the fox-est of Vincennes when they found 
 themselves separated from all other company. Henry was 
 tliiuking of a secret article of the treaty, by which he 
 bound himself to make the uprooting of heresy his chief 
 business. This would commend him to Philip's heart and 
 brotherhood. Spanish love called for Christian blood in 
 matters of religion. 
 
 " Your majesty's mind seems not to be so cheerful as 
 usual," said William, aS' their horses' heads were turned 
 together. 
 
 " There is enough to make me solemn," replied Henry, 
 who imagined that William was a party to all Philip's 
 secret plots, " for the sectaries increase daily in my king- 
 dom. Even the nobles are fast going over to the new doc- 
 trines. Like fire, the more they are beaten, the more they 
 spread. I shall never be easy until the land is swept clear 
 of these accursed vermin. I expect every day to hear of a 
 revolt of the nobles, under the name of a Reform ; but yet, 
 Vol. I.— 12 133
 
 134 ADMIUAL COLKi.W. 
 
 with the favour of Heaven and the aid of my son and 
 brother Philip, I hope soon to master the rebels." We 
 recall the conversations between Lorraine and Granvelle. 
 
 This was all news to young Orange, but he kept his 
 astonishment to himself The king then proceeded to lay 
 before his (li^creet friend the particulars of a plot, and the 
 manner in which all heretics were to be discovered and put 
 to death by a wholesale massacre. Philip was to use his 
 army in making a clean sweep in the Netherlands, while 
 Henry was to enlist the Roman Catholics for the secret 
 work of extermination in France. The face of Prince 
 AVilliam betrayed n<me of the indignation pent up in his 
 soul, and he won thereby the name of " the Silent." Henry 
 had blundered ; he had revealed a secret of great value to 
 the man who was to defeat the plot in his own country, and 
 finally to liberate his people froni the double tyranny of 
 Spain and Rome. Wo have noticed this to show that 
 the plan of a great massacre was not a new invention in 
 1572; it was entertained thirteen years earlier. Henry de- 
 signed to make the first attemj)t ; his widow, Catherine, was 
 the soul of the second, and the woman succeeded, but in 
 each instance Philip of Spain was the prompter behind the 
 scene of blood. 
 
 Such was the meaning of the secret article in the treaty 
 between the two kings. Philip gave the plan for getting 
 rid of heretics ; the price thereof was a wife for the in- 
 ventor. Henry paid it by pledging his daughter, Elizabeth, 
 to Philip II. She was to be delivered to the Spanish com- 
 mittee in Paris, and when the time came the aflfairs of Du 
 Bourg were attracting attention. The Cardinal of Lor- 
 raine suggested that the most agreeable exhibition to ofl^er 
 to these Spanish gentlemen would be the burning of half 
 a dozen councillors on the public square. " We must 
 give," said he, "this junket to these grandees of Spain!"
 
 THE GUISIIS IN POM-ER. 135 
 
 "The judi^cs will liave them ready," thought the king, 
 "by the time that the wedding festivities are ended." Even 
 now he was ordering an expedition to march and sweep 
 lieresy out of" one of the provinces. 
 
 This wedding was made sjjlendid in honour of the late 
 peace. The Duke of Alva acted as proxy for Philip. 
 Among other revelries was the tournament, of which Henry 
 was excessively fond. Not one was held at the court in 
 which he did not "don his helm and break his lance." A 
 few days after he had sworn that he would see Du Bourg 
 burnt at the stake he was mounted on a war horse and 
 running in the lists with the bravest knights of the time. 
 The tournament was held in front of the Bastille, where lay 
 the men on whom he sought to have vengeance. 
 
 The king was urged to retire amid the universal applause, 
 but seeing two lances yet unbroken, he seized one of them 
 and ordered the other to be given to Gabriel Montgomery, 
 the grandson of a Scotsman, a Protestant worthy of fame, 
 and the commander of the Scotch guards. Many a Cale- 
 donian family had settled in France: this name was one 
 of the noblest. Thrice the honour was declined by Mont- 
 gomery. He begged to be excused. 
 
 " We entreat your majesty to retire," said the queen and 
 the court ladies. 
 
 " Not while there remains a lance to break," rejjlied 
 Henry, and then, springing forward, he put the Scot on the 
 defensive. The two men came together with so rude a 
 shock that the shaft of ^Montgomery broke upon the king's 
 vizor. A splinter entered his eye, piercing so deeply that 
 he was carried from the lists unconscious of the lamenta- 
 tions which filled the air. Some writers give a rej^ort, then 
 current, that when conveyed to the i>alace, he looked back 
 at the Bastille, and said, " I fear that I have wronged the 
 innocent councillors shut u]i within those walls."
 
 136 ADMIEAIi COLIGNY. 
 
 " That thought is suggested by the tempter," whispered 
 the Cardinal of Lorraine, according to the report. " Be 
 watchful unto the end ; persevere in the faith." This wily 
 prelate was ca})able of thus drying up the healing waters 
 of charity, and keeping the heart of a dying king burning 
 with revenge. But the king, probably, spoke not a word 
 after he was struck. He died the next month, July, in the 
 very hall decorated for the wedding. 
 
 No doubt some of the Protestants gave thanks to God 
 for the removal of their persecutor the king, who was 
 struck down at the very time when he was giving orders for 
 a wholesale slaughter of the Protestants, and proposing a 
 crusade against Geneva, which Alva called " the sink of 
 corruption." History has severely judged him. " Of this 
 weak and worthless prince, all that his flatterers could 
 favourably urge was his great fondness for war, as if a san- 
 guinary propensity, even when accompanied by a spark of 
 military talent, were of itself a virtue. Yet with his deatli 
 the kingdom fell even into more pernicious hands, and the 
 fate of Christendom grew darker than ever." * Days were 
 coming when the Protestants, chased, cornered and crushed 
 for a long period of woe, would look back and wish that 
 the days of Henry had been prolonged. A bad ruler is 
 sometimes made popular by having a far worse successor. 
 
 The Protestants could not fail to notice that death entered 
 through one of the eyes which he liad sworn should look 
 upon Du Bourg at the stake, and by the lance of the very 
 man employed to arrest the councillors. They saw in it 
 the judgment of God. AVas it not strange also that the 
 royal corpse was covered with a rich tapestry into which 
 was woven the picture of Saul smitten down on the way to 
 Damascus, and bearing the words, "Saul, Saul, why perse- 
 cutest tliou me?" It was not intentional; the mistake was 
 * Motley, Dutch RcDublic.
 
 THK GIISKS IX POWER. 137 
 
 seen and the tapestry was removed, but not until the ru- 
 mour had got wing, so that all France whispered it, and 
 many thought it a provi<lential rebuke upon a king who 
 had iiercily persecuted the saints of God.* 
 
 Francis II. ascended the throne for a short ])ut eventful 
 reign. He was scarcely more than sixteen, delicate in body, 
 feeble in spirit, " without virtues or vices," and as little the 
 master of himself as he was king of the realm. His wife, 
 Mary of Scots, might have illustrated her powerful talents 
 had not a Medici been in her way, or the Guises aimed to 
 make their niece the means of their own selfish advance- 
 ment. One of these crafty uncles lost not a moment, work- 
 ing himself and brother into power, as if king, queen, court, 
 army, government and treasury all were their own. " It 
 was a great misfortune for France that the Duke of Guise 
 had such a brother as the cardinal," for otherwise the able 
 warrior might have served nobly his country. " He must 
 sometimes yield to the insolent and scheming prelate, the 
 most dangerous man of his age. The one was named min- 
 ister of war, the other of the finances." f There was danger 
 tliat these men would imitate tlio ancient mayors of the 
 palace and usurp the throne. 
 
 Wiiile King Henry was lying for a month speechless, 
 hopeless of life, and wished out of the world by the Lorraine 
 faction, the veteran Montmorency saw what was coming. 
 A regency would be wanted, and the right to it rested in the 
 house of Bourbon. He wrote a letter and gave it to a 
 courier, saying : " All haste, and no treachery, at the peril 
 of your life." We follow the messenger over the long ride 
 to the castle of Nerac in Navarre. Antony and his queen 
 break the seals; they read words of this import: "Come 
 
 * Tluiani Historia; Memoires de Coiidt' ( Discour.s de l:i Mort dii 
 Henry II.); Biographic Universelle. 
 f Lacratelle; Memoires do Castclnaii. 
 12 -^
 
 138 ADMIRAL rOLIGNV. 
 
 post-haste to Paris. The dau})hin will soon be king, and 
 the Guises will rule over him if you are not hei'e to take 
 the regency. I can manage Catherine until you come. 
 She will listen to Coligny and keep the cardinal at bay for 
 a little time. She will favour the strongest party ; therefore 
 show your strength." 
 
 Jeanne d'Albret hailed the summons as one sent by Pro- 
 vidence. If Henry must die, it was for the peace of God's 
 chosen ones, to whom she had afforded every protection. 
 AVhat a grand prospect for France ! The young king under 
 the guardianship of a prince who aided the Reform ! The 
 kingdom freed from Spanish rule and the foreign house of 
 Lorraine abased ! But Antony failed to see his oppor- 
 tunity. His feeble soul was appalled. He would lament 
 over lost rights, but he shrank from putting forth a hand to 
 prevent them from being lost. Jeanne heard his excuses, 
 and answered them with eloquence and irony : 
 
 " So you will not retrieve your fortunes ! Because Pliilip 
 and Henry* did nothing for you in their treaties, you will 
 do nothing for yourself, even when God opens the way. 
 Very well ! Sit here and be the football of kings. Mur- 
 mur and moan that your rivals grasp what you seek, but 
 remember that if you would put forth an equal energy, 
 you would see them humbled and yourself exalted. Rouse 
 up ; you might deliver France." 
 
 Antony left his heroic wife and gave ear to other ad- 
 visers. His favourite bishop was in the interest of the 
 Guises and Spaniards. "It is a trap," said the bishop. 
 "You will lose your kingdom. You may lose your head. 
 
 * Navarre liad long been an object of contention between Spain and 
 France, and Antony scarcely knew to which it would fall. It was to 
 liave been made more free and independent by the treat)' of Cateau- 
 Canibresis, but botii kings neglected it. It owed an allegiance to 
 France.
 
 TUE GUISES IN I'OWEIJ. 139 
 
 riiilip of Sp.iin will send an army into Xavarrc." Antony 
 indulged these gloomy forebodings, and resolved to wait un- 
 til good fortune should take the paius to come all the way 
 to him. It was quite as well ; he would have only the 
 eoouer become ensnared in the wiles of his destroyers. It 
 was not for such a prince to arrest the course of the ascend- 
 ing Guises, raise the fallen house of Bourbon, paralyze the 
 iron hand of tyranny and create a mild and just adminis- 
 tration. As well expect a reed to stay an avalanche. The 
 mission was grand ; it was his right, but he was found want- 
 ing. His was the case of a man waiting for the tide, and 
 yet afraid to venture upon it ; eager for power, yet unequal 
 to its responsibilities ; flattered by hope and mortified by 
 neglect ; offered a great occasion, and yet listless to the call 
 of a splendid duty. Whether in Chuch or State such men 
 never cross the Kubicon, never decide at the moment when 
 earth and heaven wait for them, never do anything with all 
 their might. 
 
 At length the brave Jeanne made one more effort. His 
 brother Louis made a desperate appeal to Antony's patriot- 
 ism, and this first prince of the blood consented to go to 
 Paris on condition that Conde, Coligny, a duke or two and 
 the secretary of jNIontmorency should meet him at Ven- 
 dorae and be his body-guard to the capital. Note the 
 meeting-place; this appointment will bring thither the Pro- 
 testant nobles to hold their first political assembly — one 
 almost as big with results to the State as was the synod just 
 held in Paris to the Church. 
 
 In the general clearing out of Henry's cabinet the new 
 broom of Lorraine was applied to Montmorency in the fol- 
 lowing delicate way : "You are worthy of rest. The nation 
 has long had the benefit of your wisdom at the cost of your 
 experience. Much as your counsels would profit us, it 
 would be cruel to draw oflT your strength to the very dregs.
 
 140 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 Like old wine, it f^hoiild be kept only for choice occasions. 
 The only reward worthy of your great services is repose. 
 We permit you to retire." And he did retire to Chantilly, 
 to drink tlie bitter waters of a second disgrace.* He, too, 
 would have a word ready for the coming assembly at 
 Vendoine. 
 
 Catherine was the regent, and, therefore, the ruler. But 
 as she does not yet appear in her full character, her portrait 
 may be deferred. The real managers were the two older 
 Guises.f Francis put on the airs of a prince, and was often 
 generous. The Cardinal of Lorraine was every sort of a 
 man, according to circumstances. He once was busy in his 
 diocese of Rheims, and he wrote : " I have nothing to write 
 about but prayers and preaching, instructing my little flock, 
 and taking as much pleasure in it as I once did in the cares 
 and toils of the court." But prosperity made him intoler- 
 able. Brantome says : " When he was on his high horse, 
 he regarded nobody ; when he was low in the world, he 
 courted everybody. He was thought to be a hypocrite in 
 religion, using it to build up his own greatness. I have 
 heard, him talk of the Confession of Augsburg, half ap- 
 proving it. At times he almost preached it, to please the 
 Germans." He was better than many others of his rank. 
 He kept no hawks, hounds nor racing-horses. A Venetian 
 said : " He is not much beloved ; he is far from truthful, 
 naturally covetous, but full of religion." He wore sack- 
 cloth and fasted often, said grace at meals and cheated his 
 uncle's creditors. 80 timid was he that he was attended by 
 an armed guard to the very steps of the altar. Out of his 
 immense income, from more than a dozen benefices, he 
 
 * D'.\uvigny, Vie de Montmorency; Tliuani Historia. 
 
 t With the army and treasury in their hands, they had all France 
 iinder their control. " Not a crown could be spent, or a soldier moved, 
 witliout their consent." — Buchanan, Rerum Scot. HiM.. lib. xvi.
 
 THE GUISES IN POWER. 141 
 
 sometimes gave alms to the poor, culling to liim the crowd 
 and pompoui^ly Hinging coins at their feet. AVhen this man 
 had power at court, he advised persecution ; when he was in 
 disgrace, he plotted extermination. He was one of the 
 " Spanialized " party. 
 
 Lines of suspicion, like a telegraph net-work, Avere 
 stretched over all the face of the realm, and along them 
 ran whispers of discontent. The nobles and chieftains 
 feared a rebellion — not among the people, not in some re- 
 mote corner, but in the very palace, and by those who 
 usurped the guardianship of the throne. They knew the 
 Absahmis and the Ahithophels, the Tarquin and the Martel, 
 of their day. There were two classes of malcontents — one, 
 the politicians, who sought more liberty in France, willing 
 to accept such fruits of the revival of letters and religion 
 as would benefit the state. They desired a new* order of 
 things, more liberal, more tolerant of free thought, and less 
 fettered brthe old, narrow feudalism of the Dark Ages. 
 Still in the Roman Church, they wished it to make con- 
 verts and advance. In the provinces, they reckoned upon 
 the whole party of Montmorency; in the parliament, they 
 found leaders in such champions of freedom as Du Bourg 
 and President Sequier, who had lately said, in a bold speech 
 in the chamber, "We al)hor the establishment of a tribunal 
 of blood, where secret accusation takes the place of proof, 
 and where the accused is denied every natural means of 
 defence. Begin, Sire" — he was addressing King Henry — 
 "begin by giving to the nation an edict which will not 
 cover the kingdom with funeral piles- that will be wetted 
 either with the tears or blood of your subjects. At a dis- 
 tance from your presence, Sire, and bowed down with 
 labours in their fields and shops, they know not what is 
 preparing against them. They do not sus])ect that, at this 
 very hour, a scheme is laid to separate them from you and
 
 142 ADMIRAL rOLIOXY. 
 
 deprive them of their natural guardian. As for you, sirs" 
 — he turned to the ministers and councillors of state — " you 
 who hear me so tranquilly, do not suppose that you have 
 no interest in this matter. To-day you are in peace and 
 honour. None attack you. But the higher you climb in 
 power, the nearer you are to the thunderbolt, and one must 
 be a stranger to history not to know what is often the cause 
 of a disgrace. Pass these edicts, and you may soon lose all. 
 The people will rise up against you. Establish an inquisi- 
 tion, and, though you be saints, you may be burned as 
 heretics." * 
 
 In the other class were the Protestants, still loyal to the 
 throne, but fearful of tlie usurpers of power. They began 
 to look to Coligny as their model and leader. The report 
 of his religious establishment at Chatillon was not long in 
 reaching them. Nor. was Andelot far outdone by him in 
 winning the good-will of the chieftains. " Two men such 
 as Coligny and Andelot, joined to the Calvinists of France, 
 gave promise of a happy change in their condition. They 
 opened their castles ; they entertained a great number of 
 their former comrades in war. Such nobles as the Vidame 
 of Chartres and Count Rochefoucault thought it no harm 
 to visit the Colignys, and there pray to God in French, sing 
 jNIarot's psalms and evince their zeal for a solemn wor- 
 ship." f About each castle there was a little Geneva. But 
 the frequent convenings there were like the gatherings of 
 the knights of old. 
 
 "All I ask of the crown is that the edicts shall secure to 
 us liberty of faith," said Coligny. " I ask no office. The 
 
 * Gamier, Histoire de France, tome xiv. ; Fleury, Histoire Eccle- 
 Biastiqiie. Pierre Seqiiier, born in 1504, died 1580, holds rank with 
 such liberal, bold thinkers a.s Budeuf5, Du Bellay, De Thou, Bisiiops 
 Montiic and Marillac, who were Protestants in the Roman Church, 
 
 f Lacratelle; Colquhoun, Jeanne d'Albret.
 
 THE GLIHES IN I'OWEH. 143 
 
 country now rests from war; I witsh to rest in my home and 
 faniily, serving God among the people around me." 
 
 " But we all need your public services," replied the chief- 
 tains more ambitious for political life. "Cannot something 
 induce you to hold office at court?" 
 
 " Nothing but the necessities of our common cause. 15ut 
 there is no danger, at ])rcsent, of my being tempted in that 
 direction." Coligny was not naturally fond of work. The 
 short, slightly-built man, of elegant addre-ss, friendly face, 
 low, musical voice and winning smile was now more ready 
 to bring others to his castle and his hospitality than to gird 
 himself, march forth and share with them in the toils of the 
 rough world. Firm in purpose, clear in discernment, quick 
 to see, prompt to judge, and yet slow to speak,* always })ru- 
 dent, never carried away by novelties, nor guilty of using 
 friendship for selfish ends, his reputation for wisdom and 
 safe counsel was soon widely known. The time was coming 
 when a vast amount of work would force itself upon him, 
 and compel him to constant activity. Applications for 
 advice and assistance were pouring in every day. Hun- 
 dreds of letters must be read and answered every week. 
 A vast correspondence was forming, which reached into 
 every province of France, and into England, Holland and 
 Germany. Longing for peace, he was to live in almost 
 perpetual Avar. 
 
 We approach the time of the civil wars in France. At 
 the outset it should be borne in mind that these fearful 
 dramas were not at first a struggle between Protestantism 
 and Romanism, No greater mistake can be made in history 
 
 * Coligny had a liabit of tliiiikinp; witli a tootlipirk in liis nioiitli, 
 wliii'li prevciiteil his words from t-vincinji the rapitlity of liis thought. 
 Brantome gives us the proverb then current, even among tlie Italians, 
 "(}od save ine from the mind and toothpick of the admiral" — [(iiiimo, 
 et skcco ikl umiru<jlio).
 
 144 ADMIRAL C'OLIGNY. 
 
 than to make such assertions.* France had a nobility out- 
 side of tlic house of Lorraine, and a people very different from 
 those who rushed in a mob a<;iunst meeting-houses ; some 
 of these were of the old Church, some of the new ; but out 
 of them all — Papal and Protestant — grew up a party which 
 revolted, not against the throne itself, but against the power 
 behind the throne ; not against kings, but against usurpers. 
 The quick movement of the Guises when the weak husband 
 of their niece took the crown, drew sharply the party lines. 
 For a few months all France was Guise or anti-Guise. Be- 
 tween the two divisions stood a foreigner, a Medici — the 
 . cjueen-mother. Hitherto neglected, once threatened with a 
 divorce and a dismissal to Italy, long without a shadow of 
 power, scarcely recognized as a wife and much less as an 
 advising queen, she had waited her time, and now she drew 
 all eyes to herself What would she do? That was the 
 universal question. All Europe wanted to know. The 
 pope's legate caught every whisper he could ; heard iSIary 
 of Scots say to her, in scorn of her ancestry, " You ought 
 always to have remained a shopman's daughter;" and 
 wrote to his master that he could tell nothing about it — that 
 
 * "Religion was less the cause than the pretext," says Lacratelle, 
 Guerres de Religion, Tntrotl. 
 
 "The historians, who view in religions wars only religion itself, 
 liave written large volumes, in which we may never discover that they 
 have either been a struggle to obtain predominance or an expedient 
 to secure it. Tlie hatreds of ambitions men have disguised their own 
 purposes, while Christianity has borne the odium of loosening a de- 
 stroying spirit among mankind ; which, had Christianity never ex- 
 isted, would have equally prevailed in human aifairs. . . . If we call 
 that religiovs whicli we shall find for the greater part is political, we are 
 likely to be mistaken in tlie regimen and cure. . . . Good men of 
 both parties, mistaking the natures of these religious wars, have drawji 
 horrid inferences." — Di.vaeli, Curios. Literal., article on " Political 
 Religionism," all of which we cannot endorse.
 
 THE GUISES IN POWER. 145 
 
 she was giving fiivour to the new religion, and yet might 
 satisfy the lloiiiauist.s. 
 
 In the state of affairs at court, Coligny and the Protestant 
 nobles saw that they must act with vigour or lose every- 
 thing. They saw that with the advancement of the Guis -s 
 there must come tyranny, intolerance, the inquisition, the 
 hot heat of the " Burning Chamber," work for the hang- 
 man and the desolation of the new Church. They saw 
 only one person who might hold the balance of power be- 
 tween all parties, and, strangely enough, that one was Ca- 
 therine de Medici ! Wise as she was, hitherto reserved, 
 enlisting their sympathies while she was kept in the shade, 
 captivating, indulgent to the new doctrines among the ladies 
 of her court, keen as a detective, no friend to the Lorraines, 
 the foe of the Spaniards thus far, and the hater of the 
 Duchess Diana's abominations and hypocrisies, we need not 
 wonder that the Protestant leaders looked now to her in 
 hope of favour. She acted from policy ; they did not yet 
 detect her want of principle. She had been most careful 
 (tf her company, and had lately shown a high esteem for 
 Admiral Coligny, his half-sister, Madame de Roye, and 
 others of the Reformed party. It was said that she had 
 even lent an ear to some of the Calvinistic preachers while 
 her royal husband was treating her with his usual roval 
 neglect. One aged Protestant recalled to her quick mind 
 the better days when she was enraptured with the Psalms 
 of Marot, and sang them in the palace. It was hoped that 
 she would remember those good ministers who had con- 
 soled her when she had so little comfort on earth that she 
 inquired if there might be any in heaven. 
 
 Coligny and others of the nobility addressed to her a me- 
 morial before the days of her mourning were ended. In 
 the simplicity of their hearts they thus began: "The pity 
 and tlie good-will which your majesty has ever deigned to 
 Vol. I, — 13
 
 146 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 manifest toward our cause have long tauglit us to regard 
 you as a second Esther." They assured her that besides 
 the prayer for the hite king in their service, they had also 
 been in the habit of entreating God to preserve and en- 
 lighten her by his law. They urged that as the mother of 
 the young king it would be her privilege to resfcue the 
 guiltless from destruction, and prevent her son from cojiy- 
 ing the example of his predecessors. 
 
 Catherine had tears ever at command, and they plcnte- 
 ously bedewed this memorial. It was returned with the 
 promise that she would put forth every effort in their be- 
 half, and the advice that they would use all caution and 
 avoid meeting for worship too publicly or in too large num- 
 bers. The admiral was requested to procure her a conference 
 with the more discreet of the ministers of Paris, and named 
 the day of the king's coronation at Rheims as one when it 
 would attract less public attention. On the day one pastor 
 was admitted to an audience, but with this the matter ended. 
 
 Was this pastor Antony Chandieu ? Had he gone with 
 Coligny to Rheims in September? Two weeks later Calvin 
 thus refers to Chandieu : " Madame de Rove, mother-in-law 
 of the Prince of Conde, had obtained of the queen-mother 
 that one of tlie ministers of the church of Paris should be 
 admitted to an interview. After being sent for, he is dis- 
 missed with mockery. Meanwhile all things arc tending 
 to a horrible butchery, because the disciples of Christ, who 
 have held secret assemblies, are denounced by apostates. 
 The thing is passing sad."* 
 
 Thenceforth the love of power absorbed all else in the 
 soul of Catherine. Any expedient to ward off a difficulty 
 Avas adopted. She loved no one, unless it was her third son, 
 the Duke of Anjou, " the most worthless of a worthless 
 family," and her daughter Elizabeth, just made queen of 
 * Calvin's Letters, dxlvi., 4th Oet., 1559.
 
 THE GUISES IN POWER, 147 
 
 Spain. The other two children were regarded as mere 
 tools, and one of them gave his view of her character when 
 he said that the loss of a spaniel grieved her more than the 
 suffering of a son. AVlicn she addressed one of her ladies 
 as " my friend," the attendant looked terrified. " Why are 
 you alarmed?" asked Catherine. " I have always noticed, 
 madame," was the honest reply, " that whomsoever you hate, 
 you call 'friend,' and never stop till you have destroyed." 
 The queen was greatly amused at the remark. It was to her 
 a compliment. To us it reveals the depth of Italian j)erfidy. 
 
 Meanwhile, I)u Bourg was kept in prison. The account 
 of his trial would fill a goodly volume. Enough for our 
 purpose that he stood firm in the faith. The celebrated 
 INIerillac was his counsel. Knowing that unless he showed 
 some sign of yielding, his case was desperate, the advocate 
 drew up a confession of faith in such ambiguous terms that 
 the prisoner and the judges could agree to it. Then j)er- 
 suading his client to promise that he would remain silent 
 and let his counsel manage his cause, Merillac began his 
 j)k'a. He pointed out the illustrious birth of the accused, 
 his great acquirements, his rare modesty, his primitive vir- 
 tues and his excellence as a magistrate, and then argued 
 tiuit all the process was illegal. At the close Du Bourg ex- 
 pected to hear a demand for his release. But how great 
 was his astonishment ! 
 
 " I admit," said the lawyer, " that the prisoner expressed 
 his opinions too freely in the royal presence, and that he has 
 l)een deceived by religious inij)ostors, who pretend to extra- 
 ordinary purity. But the delusion has passed away ; he ac- 
 knowledges his fault and throws himself on the mercy of the 
 court." He then made a private sign to certain judges 
 known to be favourable, for the scheme had been precon- 
 certed with them ; the court rose, and Du Bourg had no op- 
 j)ortunity of addressing it. He was sent back to his cell.
 
 148 ADMIRAL COTJGNY. 
 
 This stratagem would liave saved his life if his noble 
 spirit could have brooked such deceit. Calling for pen and 
 paper, he sat down in his prison and wrote a disavowal of 
 the counsel's statements concerning his repentance. He 
 sent it to parliament. He then wrote a circular letter to 
 the Reformed churches, in order to prevent them from sup- 
 posing that he shrank from the fiery trial that awaited 
 him. " Had I consulted my own feelings," he wrote, " I 
 would long have been at rest and in the enjoyment of the 
 crown of martyrdom ; but I owe it to my brethren, to my 
 faith and to my God to seek as long a time to live as possi- 
 ble, so that I may publish abroad the doctrines which I 
 believe." 
 
 Coligny and his friends again appealed to Catherine in 
 behalf of Du Bourg. They stated that her advice to them 
 had been followed ; that they had not held their meetings 
 publicly, and still they were persecuted. For themselves, 
 they would promise obedience, but there was a large body 
 of men, not all of them Keformed, who would resort to ex- 
 treme measures if this nefarious process continued. 
 
 "Do they menace me?" exclaimed the queen-mother; 
 " Do they think to make me fear ? Patience ! patience ! 
 matters have not yet come to such a point as they imagine." 
 The admiral and Madame de Roye calmed her anger. She 
 then said, " You take too much for granted ; you suppose 
 that I approve of your doctrines." 
 
 " Rather, we suppose that you pity those who must suffer 
 for them," answered Coligny. 
 
 " What enlisted my sympathy for the sufferers was my 
 woman's compassion, rather than a desire to be informed 
 whether their teachings were true or false." 
 
 " Compassion should spare even the erring from undue 
 severity," was the plea of Coligny; "and how much more 
 should it spare those who are sincere iu their belief, and
 
 THE OUISKS IN POWER. 149 
 
 whose faith proinjjls them in all their foiiiluct." Abmit 
 this time the admiral i)reseiited her with a written confes- 
 sion of faith, that she might learn the (loctriiics of the Ke- 
 fornied. She was too busily engaged in balancing parties, 
 and so dividing the rival houses that she might reign, to 
 study new opinions or keep old promises. If she had the 
 least thought of a kind policy toward the Protestants, it 
 was set at naught l)y the Guises, whom she felt obliged to 
 conciliate. 
 
 Songs were heard from the windows of tlie Bastille, but 
 710 crowd was permitted to gather there and listen to Du 
 Bourg, who sang them with fervour in order to ))roclaim 
 the gospel. One hymn is attributed to him, for he was a 
 poet, beginning — 
 
 "() jicojile, linw liave yo tlic lioart 
 To wage a war against tlio Lord?" 
 
 An attempt was made; by his friends to secure his escape, 
 but he was not inclined to emi)loy crafty means. This plan 
 was diseovered by an accident; he must suffer the penalty. 
 An iron cage was brought, and he was enclosed in it. And 
 still he played his lute and sang Psalms. The Cardinal 
 of Lorraine declared that he must be condemned, and 
 therefore justice was impossible. The trial was a mockery; 
 he was sentenced to be speedily executed. He listened to 
 his condemnation without one sign of fear. Calvin relates 
 tliat " he knelt down and thanked God that he w;is deemed 
 worthy of so great an honour as to die in defence of 
 eternal truth." He prayed that God would pardon his 
 judges, and then rising, he addressed the court, saying, 
 '■ (^uencli at length the fires you have kindled, and turn 
 uiilo God with a penitent heart, that your sins may be for- 
 given. . . . For you, my brother councillors, farewell and 
 prosper! For myself, I go cheerfully to death. Happen 
 13 »
 
 150 ADMIRAL COLTGXY. 
 
 what will, I am a Christian; yes, I am a Christian, and 
 still louder will I shout it, dying lor the glory of my Lord 
 Jesus Chri.st!" 
 
 For f(jur hours he awaited the coming of the officer to 
 lead him to the Greve. In order to prevent an uprising of 
 the people, armed men were placed on the corners of the 
 streets, and fagots were piled up in various places, so that 
 none might know where he was to be burned. "When he 
 came to the })lace of execution, though surrounded by four 
 hundred guards, he was observed to pull off his cloak and 
 his coat, as if he were willingly retiring to sleep." He was 
 offered a crucifix, but he rejected it, for his mind was fixed 
 upon the true cross of Christ. The last words heard from 
 his lips were : " Father, forsake me not, that I may not for- 
 sake thee." He was then strangled and his body burned. 
 It was the twenty-third of December. 
 
 Among the students then in Paris was young Florimond 
 de Remond, who afterward wrote a chronicle of his times. 
 Rigid papist as he was, he said of Du Bourg that every one 
 in the colleges was moved to tears; they pleaded his cause 
 after his death ; and that this execution did more harm to 
 the papists than a hundred ministers could have done with 
 all their preaching. Mezeray, a Catholic historian, de- 
 clares that " his execution inspired many persons with the 
 conviction that the belief professed by so good and so en- 
 lightened a man could not be evil." De Thou, an author 
 of the same creed, asserts that his death so embittered and 
 so confirmed the Protestants that " from his ashes sprang 
 that rank growth of revolts and conspiracies which long 
 and heavily overran this once flourishing kingdom." 
 
 Pastor Chandieu saw the philosophy of this fact : " Most 
 people like what they see hated so extremely. Tiiey think 
 themselves fortunate in knowing what leads others to the 
 gibbet, and return home from the public places edified by
 
 THE GUISES IN POWKII. 151 
 
 the constancy of those whom they have reduced to aslies." 
 But as means of conversion such scenes were not very effi- 
 cacious, or the wliole land must have soon become Protest- 
 ant. Hundreds were only maddened by the sight of fire 
 and blood. 
 
 The fellow-councillors* of Du Bourg, arrested with liim, 
 were punished more lightly and released. Meanwhile, a 
 strict search was made for heretics ; houses were entered, 
 plundered, and the dwellers exposed to every outrage. 
 Images of the Virgin Mary were set up at the street- 
 corners ; those who did not tip the hat to them were in- 
 sulted, and many of them flung into prison, banished and 
 l)ut to death. t The Protestants had their patience worn 
 out ; they saw that it was worse than useless to attempt 
 secresy ; they resumed their former boldness and met more 
 publicly ; some of them took the pen and published cutting 
 sarcasms upon the Guises and their obedient servants. 
 
 The Guises had set up their engine of destruction, and 
 used the king and cabinet to work it. Edicts were pro- 
 claimed that every house proved to luive luirbouri'd an as- 
 sembly of Protestants should be razed to the ground, and 
 "whosoever shall be present at a |)rivate meeting shall be 
 sentenced to death, without hope of panlon or pity." A man 
 named De Moucharcs impressed his infamy upon tlie very 
 
 * Some wit of tlie time wove tlie immes of tiio councillors into 
 til is couplet : 
 
 P:ir Foix, I)e Li Porte, T>ii Faiir, 
 J'appcryoi Du IJourg, La Fiuuce. 
 
 — Memoires de Conde. 
 t The laborious Calvin gave an accomit of the execution of Du 
 Bourg, adding: "Half a month lias elapsed siiu>e liis death. Manv 
 otiiers since that time have been burnf. Every nutmcnt new terroi-s 
 are heaped njion us. I wish fifim these examples we may learn what 
 is the life of man u]ion earth ; that I may especially, whose dulness 
 cannot be too much aroused." — Ldtcr to Bhtunr.
 
 152 ADMIRAL COLIC NY. 
 
 language, so that moiichard is the term for a police-spy. 
 Acting as a detective, he controlled a band of ,«ecret spies 
 and informers, Avho went everywhere, di-agged innocent men 
 and women before the unjust judges, charged them with the 
 basest villainies, extorted money from them and sent them 
 to the stake. " From August to March there was nothing 
 but arrests and imprisonments, the sacking of houses, the 
 outlawry of those suspected and the cruel torment of those 
 condemned."* INtany sold their goods and fled to the pro- 
 vinces or to other lands. " The poor became rich, the rich 
 poor." The only fault of many was tlieir wealth, and there 
 ■were plenty to seize it. Jealous neighbours fleeced or drove 
 away those whom they envied ; and as the most wicked luid 
 the power in their own hands, lynch law reigned night and 
 day. 
 
 "Poor little children [of the martyrs]," says Beza, "who 
 had no bed but the flagstones, went crying piteously through 
 the streets, yet no one dared to relieve their hunger or give 
 them shelter for fear of being accused of heresy ; they were 
 less cared for than the dogs." This pictures the teri'or, but 
 what a proof of the barbarity of the persecutors was seen 
 when other little children dipped their hands in the martyr's 
 blood and boasted what they would do ! Crosses and 
 images were set up in the streets, with tapers burning 
 before them, and around them a noisy crowd singing and 
 praying, thus reminding one of the idolatries exacted by 
 Nebuchadnezzar in the heathen days. If any one failed to 
 tip his hat or drop money into the alms-boxes, some wretch 
 shouted " heretic," and the mob had their diversion. To 
 call one a " Lutheran" was to brand him for the slaughter. 
 One man was hanged, while a thief was set free. Every 
 Barabbas had a chance for liberty if he only cursed the 
 hei-etics. " Death was made a carnival." 
 
 * La Planclie (or De Serres), Hist. Etat de France sous Fi-ancois II.
 
 THE GUISES IN IHtWEIJ. 1 .>3 
 
 From his watch-tower amid the Alp.*, Calvin looked 
 al)roail over France, saw the clash which j)rec('ded a storm 
 and in great sorrow thus wrote : " I'nless God ])rovide a 
 remedy in time, there will he no end to the eflTiision of hlorxl. 
 A much greater numher of men has been cast into fetters 
 than during the two preceding years. ... In Provence the 
 brethren, attacked by private individuals with the sword 
 and outrage, have begun to defend tliemselves. Hitherto 
 they have had the upper hand, and have slain but few, 
 though they might have exterminated all to a man. "NVe 
 have till now kept back the Normans, but it is greatly to 
 be feared that, if they be excessively provoked, they Avill 
 i*ush to arms. God, then, is to be entreated that of his 
 admirable goodness and wisdom he would calm all. these 
 troubled billows."
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A CHIEFTAIN WAyXED. 
 (1550.) 
 
 THE old town of Conde, near Belgium, and noted for 
 its ancient military strength, gave title to a young 
 prince of the blood, who won for himself a brilliant repu- 
 tation as a military hero. He was Louis de Bourbon, born 
 1530, at Vendome. Schooled in war from his youth, he 
 became bold, hardy and adventurous. He was not to be 
 judged by his outward appearance, nor by his air of care- 
 lessness and frivolity, for beneath the surface was an ardent, 
 lofty and indomitable spirit. Small and slender, yet strong 
 and active, lively and erring, yet often serious, his whole 
 life was one brave struggle with narrow circumstances and 
 with ceaseless opposition. Yet few men had a wider circle 
 of friends. With qualities truly loyal, generous even to an 
 enemy, winning and easy to be won, indeed often too caress- 
 ing, sincere, affable, eloquent, he had a sort of popularity 
 which ran in fireside stories and songs of the street.* He 
 had also great faults enough to mar one of the finest for- 
 tunes ever committed to a man and blast the happiness of 
 one of the truest wives. Bound as he was to Coligny ia 
 the grand Huguenot cause, we need to know him when he 
 shall so often move along our path. 
 
 Among the noble women of the French Reform was 
 Madeline, tlie Countess of Rove, the half-sister of Coligny. 
 
 * Perau, Vie de Louis de Bourbon; MM Haag, La France Pro- 
 testante; Lacratelle; Thuauus. 
 154
 
 A CHIEFTAIN WANTKD. 155 
 
 Her pious mother's lessons and example were not lost. 
 She avowed herself a Protestant along with her warlike 
 brothers, corresponded with Calvin, braved the contempt 
 of a court where Diana reigned, and rendered efficient aid 
 to the church of Paris. Her position was yet to be of 
 greater importance to the chiefs of the Keform. One of 
 her daughters — Charlotte — became the wife of the Count 
 Kochefoucault ; Eleanor heard the name of Conde with no 
 little interest. In 1551 she married liim. There was some 
 force in the motive, urged by her relatives, of uniting more 
 lirmly the houses of Chatillon and Bourbon against the 
 Lorraines. The Jesuit Maimbourg says that "sha and her 
 mother were women of much spirit, affection and virtue, 
 but were two of the most ardent and determined Hugue- 
 nots of their time."* 
 
 The Prince of Conde — one of the heroes of Saint 
 Quentin and Calais — had reason to expect some favours 
 from the young King Francis. His heart sank within him 
 when he appealed in vain to his brother Antony to assert 
 his claim to the regency. His next resource was the influ- 
 ence of Coligny with the queen-mother. But here he was 
 checked by the (Juises. However, to get rid of him, they 
 sent him on a mission to obtain the signature of Philip to 
 the last treaty. "What outfit?" Vain question for a 
 prince who was too poor to ap])ear in dignity before the 
 monarch of the widest realm in Christendom. Perhaps the 
 Colignys supplied the funds. 
 
 The Guises next sought to embroil Conde and Coligny, 
 by saying to the latter, " Do you know that our Bourbon 
 cousin has applied for the government of Picardy? He 
 wants to get it away from you." Coligny was surprised, 
 but his reply was generous : " I am ready to resign the office 
 in his favour." Half suspicious of a trick, he did not re- 
 * Histohe du (."alviiiisme. De Tliou gives tlicra liigli praise.
 
 156 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 sign until he had seen Conde, who had never made any- 
 such application. It was a specimen of Guisean strategy. 
 The admiral resigned, but Conde was cheated; the office 
 was given to Brissac. Another scheme was to expose 
 Coligny to a storm of Montmorency's wrath, but the old 
 man poured forth his fire against the duke and cardinal. 
 Such attempts only united the opposition. They were also 
 intended to remove from the court all the princes and 
 nobles of true French blood, and secure the kingdom to 
 such "foreigners"* as the Guises and Catherine. Is it to 
 be wondered that there were murmurs among the people? 
 Is it strange that the Protestant nobles began to whisper 
 of some mode of redress ? If France could have acted in- 
 dependently, she might have accepted the Reform, which 
 sprung up on her own soil, and was watered by her sons at 
 Geneva. The fierce enemy of the Reformation was no 
 longer the Sorbonne, nor the parliament, nor the king ; 
 these had done their worst, and were overshadowed by 
 other forces. The most powerful foe was of foreign birth 
 and importation, thrust upon her when a Medici and the 
 Guises gained full control over the Church and the State. 
 
 The Prince of Conde champed the bit with which the 
 Guises would curb him or drive him as they chose. He 
 hated " the foreigners," in his loyal love for France. He 
 had dreams of rousing the nobility, rescuing the young 
 king from the strangers and restoring the true French 
 monarchy, " God's time is often slow," said Coligny, whom 
 he loved as an uncle, *' but is always sure and safe ; it will 
 be our time." 
 
 " God's time to do us most good," added Madame de 
 
 * Etrangers, in the French histories; homines pcre^jrinon, in De 
 Thon. Tlie people of that day understood the expression in one of 
 the printed broadsides, " Voicy les estrangers a nos portes." — Me- 
 moir es de Conde.
 
 A CHIEFTAIN WANTED. 157 
 
 Royo, " is our day of adversity. It was so with the admiral 
 and his brother Andelot." 
 
 " lu prison ! Was that all they endured?" replied Conde, 
 with his usual air of gayety, hoping to ward off the religious 
 appeal. " A dungeon is nothing to my disgrace. Yet I 
 suppose that if they sang for joy in their prisons, I ought 
 to shout for glory, since* my case is more desperate than 
 theirs." He felt that he was ruined. His friends urged 
 him to avow himself a Protestant. 
 
 It does not appear that he gave his thoughts to the Bible 
 or his heart to God. He was not seeking a principle of 
 life, but a policy of action. Chafed by various affronts, 
 hopeless of success in gaining an appointment from the 
 king and council, ambitious of the honours- of a public 
 career and cherishing a revenge toward the party in power, 
 he saw but one remedy for the evils under which he 
 groaned. He saw that fully half the nobles were inclined 
 to Protestantism. Why might they not combine and effect 
 a change in the government? From Brest to Metz, from 
 Bayonne to Boulogne, the realm was alive with converts to 
 the new doctrines. Among them were men trained to en- 
 dure hardship, fearless of danger, zealous for their rights 
 and their religion, bound by strong ties to each other, and 
 in correspondence with the Swiss Reformers and the Ger- 
 man princes. Give them a chieftain, and they seemed 
 ready to pledge their faith, unite their forces and to de- 
 mand their rights and their liberties, or lose all in the effort 
 to extort them. A leader was wanted. Antony of Navarre 
 had proved unworthy of so great a trust. 
 
 Coligny was the proper man. Ho would avoid war, and 
 command a moral force whiclx the Guisards must respect, 
 if they did not give way before it. But Coligny was not 
 ainl)iti()us for such a hcadsliip. Condu wjis put fDrward, 
 and he decided upon his course. He changed his religion 
 
 Vol. I.— U
 
 158 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 •with a rapidity peculiar to all his movements. He was 
 asked by his friends to name a place for the chiefs to meet 
 him in conference. 
 
 " Let it be Vendome," he replied. My new life may well 
 begin at my birth-place. It is a good old town, full of 
 Protestants. In my childhood they almost won me by 
 talking of the great Queen Mafi'garet of Navarre. We 
 shall be well housed and safe in our deliberations. An es- 
 cort is to meet my brother, the King of Navarre, at that 
 place. Under that j^retext we can assemble, and if we 
 spend three or four days in getting Antony ready for an 
 appearance at court, who need be troubled about it?" Thus 
 in order to avoid suspicion all was arranged by the favourite 
 prince, of whom the later song ran : 
 
 The little man so handsome, 
 Who always talks and alwa3's smiles, 
 And wins all whom he will, the whiles — 
 God keep from harm the little man. 
 
 " They are going to bring up the King of Navarre," said 
 the people along the ways as. goodly companies passed 
 through the towns, and that was a;ll they knew about it. 
 The king took courage when he saw in the proposed escort 
 Chartres, Porcian, Rochefoucauld, the secretary of Mont- 
 morency, and the three Colignys ; for Cardinal Odet had 
 cast his lot with the Reformed. Antony might well have 
 coveted the whole of them to make a parliament for 
 Navarre. He was greeted with enthusiasm, both by the 
 nobles and the people. The conference began. Coligny 
 had brought discouraging news from Paris to this effect : 
 " The Guises now defy their rivals and their enemies. The 
 Spanish ambassador insisted that the King of Navarre be 
 forbidden to approach the capital. If not, Philip would 
 make war upon Navarre — "
 
 A CHIEFTAIN -WANTED. 159 
 
 "Is there such a miuidaU'y" iiKiuired the friglitcned 
 Antony. "Dare such a mandate be j)ubli.shed?" exclaimed 
 his brother. " Will Frenchmen endure such insolence and 
 injustice? Let us rise in our might — " 
 
 " You have not heard me through," said the admiral, 
 whose usual slowness of speech had contributed to the alarm, 
 "(^'athcrine has j)revented such an outrage. It will be our 
 privilege to attend the King of Navarre to the capital." 
 
 "And what then?" asked Cond{!>, his eyes flashing as 
 they met those of the discontented nobles. " Who will 
 grant us our rights ? The young King Francis has chosen 
 his ministers of state without convening the states-general — 
 rather they have usurped the power; and now we have but 
 one course left: we must take up arms and drive these 
 foreigners from the court." 
 
 "Agreed," said Andelot, "and that speedily. Every 
 hour of delay is golden to our enemies." To this view 
 several other nobles assented. 
 
 " I must oppose all warlike efforts," said the deliberate 
 admiral. " What positive claim have the princes of the 
 blood to a regency ? Young as the king is, he is of the 
 legal age to choose for himself, and he has the right to 
 select his uncles as his ministers. This we must grant. 
 Peace will gain more than war. If we show a strong union 
 among ourselves, and if some of us who have the ear of 
 Catherine will use our influence, the Guises may be induced 
 to act with moderation and to grant to the princes some 
 degree of their just authority." 
 
 "Let us avoid war," echoed the time-serving Antony. 
 " I will go to the capital and demand liberty of conscience 
 for the Protestants. This will give us a power which our 
 enemies will dread ; for the despised Protestants will come 
 forth from their hiding-places and astound the world by 
 their numbers and their united strength."
 
 IGO ad:mtrat, coi.tcjxy. 
 
 The wiser counsels of the admiral prevailed. The con- 
 ference adjourned, to be renewed at the call of the Prince 
 of Conde. By s1o\a' journeys Antony was escorted to Paris. 
 But there he must bear the insult of not being expected. 
 The court had gone to the chateau of Saint Germain, five 
 leagues from Paris. He sent thither a chamberlain to give 
 notice of his arrival, and to prepare for his use the rooms 
 which he usually occupied in that palace. Here was a 
 second insult: the Duke of Guise lodged in those apart- 
 ments, and refused to vacate them. The chamberlain was 
 closely examined by the Guises in regard to the design of 
 his master's visit and the number of his suite. Then the 
 imperious cardinal exclaimed : " Tell your master that it 
 will cost him his life and that of some ten thousand men, 
 before he deprives us of the place which he seeks and of 
 the apartments assigned to us here by the good favour of 
 the king." 
 
 This threat of war might have been taken by Cond^ as a 
 challenge, but Coligny thought it wisest to ignore it. The 
 princely train set out for the palace. Quaintly reads the 
 old chronicle : " The kings of France, in their greatness, 
 have this custom, that when they wish to favour any prince 
 or great lord, and know the hour they are expected, the 
 king goes courteously to meet them, under pretence of 
 hunting that way ; and so comes upon them by accident, 
 as it were, which is esteemed a great honour. Then, before 
 all the court, the king returns with them, engaged in loving 
 conversation. But nothing of this sort was done for the 
 King of Xavarre. The Duke of Guise took care to lead 
 the hunt in quite a contrary direction ; and so the King of 
 Navarre arrived at the chateau without the slightest notice 
 from all the courtiers. And he found his lodging so little 
 prepared that all his trunks and boxes were scattered about 
 the courtyard. Having dismounted, he went straight to
 
 A CIIIKFTAIN WANTED. 101 
 
 the qucen-nu)thc'r, with whom was tlie Cardinal of Lor- 
 raine, who moved not one step to meet him or greet him ; 
 and when he had made his respects to the queen, he (the 
 cardinal) looked at him in the most haughty fashion ; at 
 which people were astonished." The king and the duke 
 returned to heap still further insults upon poor Antony. 
 
 The distressed King of Navarre at last found a friend 
 with a good memory. Two years before he was in Paris, 
 when the wife of the Marshal 8t. Andr6 came to him en- 
 treating his aid in releasing one of her retainers from prison, 
 into which he had been thrown for heresy. King Henry 
 was absent at Amiens. Antony assumed a royal authority 
 and set the prisoner at liberty, at the risk of offending Henry, 
 who afterward calmed his rage, forgave the fault and said, 
 " You will do well, Sire, in future to remember the rank 
 you hold in France." He now had it forced on his mind, 
 but St. Andr6 had not forgotten him. His wife, probably, 
 suggested it, and he offered to the shelterless king his own 
 apartments. Antony accepted the offer ; it was coming down 
 from royalty, but still it was securing comfort. The Guises 
 were not yet satisfied. They excluded the royal visitor 
 from the council board ; and after loading him with dis- 
 graces, they persuaded him to say to King Francis that he 
 had wisely chosen his ministers, and they had wisely begun 
 their administration. His rivals had first cheated, then 
 charmed liim. His friends were disgusted and looked to 
 liiiu no more as a leader. He must have some toy to please 
 him ; he was, therefore, sent to conduct Philip's unseen 
 bride to Spain — an afl'air which was so managed that it only 
 added to his disgrace. At the borders he gave Elizabeth 
 over to the Spanish escort, and returned to Navarre, desjjised 
 by his foes and deserted by his friends. 
 
 The Prince of Cond6 summoned another conference at 
 La Fert(?, a town on his estate in ('liampagne. The Pro-
 
 162 ABMIKAL COLTGXY. 
 
 testaiit nobles camo ; iiiany of tlie Reformed churches sent 
 their deputies. The question was ■whether they slioukl take 
 up arms ? The prince urged it as a necessity for their self- 
 defence. "Wc have lost time already," said he. "Why 
 did we hesitate at Vendome ? you were checked — and must 
 I say it? — the curb was applied by my great and good 
 friend, who advised moderation, when a bold stroke was our 
 only safe jwlicy. Will he again speak sweet words to lull 
 your enslaved spirits?" 
 
 All knew who was meant, all waited for him to rise when 
 the prince sat down. Courteous and grandly cool, he stood 
 up to give his opinion. It would be of great worth, for the 
 man was Coligny. He had not been idle. By his letters 
 and couriers he had learned the state of the Protestant 
 churches. He knew more of their strength than any man 
 in the realm. He knew what sympathy they had from all 
 other malcontents. AVhen the assembly hung upon his 
 voice, he thus gave his opinion : 
 
 " France is full of converts to the new doctrines. They 
 are of all classes, all conditions. In spite of the fact that 
 they are hunted down and terribly persecuted, in spite of 
 the efforts to exterminate them, they increase from day to 
 day, in the provinces as well as in the capital. While the 
 foe rages they are falling into despair of any deliverance 
 from this oppression. They look to their chiefs, who are 
 able to govern them and secure to them liberty of con- 
 science. If we profit by their disposition, they will find in us 
 the staff" on which they may lean, and we shall find in them 
 the material for a party indomitable. As one man will the 
 whole ])halanx be. 
 
 " Their adversaries are our own. They attribute the new 
 and fierce edicts to the Cardinal of Lorraine and the Duke of 
 Guise. No doubt they cau be persuaded to offer their goods 
 aud lives to carry ou a war. They lyay send you legiona
 
 A CHIEFTAIN WANTKI). 1G3 
 
 of . soldiers, and you iiuiy obtain foreign aid. But let us not 
 make our ambition tlie motive for embroiling the kingdom 
 in strife. Let it not be the desire to have a part in the 
 government and the officers of state. That must prove our 
 eternal reproach. If we undertake a war, let it be for con- 
 science, for religion and for God. In the name of Jehovah 
 we will lift up our banners." 
 
 "All very well," whispered certain political aspirants — 
 "very beautiful — good thing to have a conscience — and 
 best of all to have a God on our side. But on the basis 
 of religion we cannot all unite. AVe are not all Protest- 
 ants." 
 
 "In the name of our king and our country," cried some 
 who had not the honest boldness of Coligny, and yet who 
 accused him of timidity, " let us rise. Here is the broail 
 basis of union. If the Guises be the common enemy, all 
 who detest their tyranny will pour out treasure and blood 
 in rescuing our young king from their hands." 
 
 "Yes, a war for the king, not against hin)," shouteil 
 Conde. "That is the word. A holy crusade ibr his deliv- 
 erance; that will rally the hosts." 
 
 " No," said Coligny, " that is but a war to dethrone 
 the Guises and put yourselves in their j)laces. There is 
 ambition in it. There is the covetousness for office. It is 
 political, earthly, selfish. My conscience forbids it. If it 
 be not waged for my country or my religion, I must retire 
 to my home and i)ray for peace." It is more courageous to 
 fight for conscience than for ])referment, but Coligny seems 
 to have stood alone in his sublime position.* He was not 
 followed. He retired to Chatillon, where his noble wife 
 threw herself at his feet, imploring him to ride forth with 
 the more ambitious chiefs mid break the oppressors' arm. 
 It was in vain. Conscience was nut melted by tears. 
 * Tumulle d'Amboise ( Meiu. de Coiuk'J, De Tlioii, Perau.
 
 164 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 The assembled nol:)]cs at La Fert<5 drew the fine distinc- 
 tion between a war for tlie king and a war against him. 
 In tlie one case the}' would be loyal, in the other rebellious. 
 
 They declined now to enter upon a war for religion. Yet 
 they claimed theological authority for taking the sword to 
 deliver their king when he was oppressed l)y his ministry.* 
 It did not come from Geneva. Still they hesitated, shaken 
 by Coligny's thrust at their motives. They went home to 
 think and wait their time. 
 
 There is no evidence that a plot was laid at La Ferte 
 for the seizure of the king, yet a scheme was ripening in 
 the mind of a reckless adventurer, who involved Coligny 
 in trouble, and almost brought Conde to the gibbet. 
 
 The arrogance of the Cardinal of Lorraine brought 
 affairs to a crisis. He abused his power as the minister of 
 finance. He was beset with demands upon the almost 
 empty treasury. Soldiers asked for their arrears of pay ; 
 bankers urged that their accounts should be settled. The 
 cardinal lost his patience. He ordered several gibbets to 
 ])e raised close to the palace of Fontainebleau — some have 
 it St. Germain — and there proclaimed that all captains, 
 soldiers, bankers and gentlemen who came to demand their 
 money should depart from the court in twenty-four hours, on 
 })ain of being hanged without trial or delay. As most of the 
 clainumts were men of rank, the French nobility took fire 
 at this insult, and talked of revenge. Brantome in his way 
 tells us, "This fine proclamation, and the discontent thence 
 arising, together with the pretext of religion, mainly con- 
 tributed to help forward the conspiracy of Amboise." 
 What he calls the "pretext of religion," was really the 
 
 * Apologie Chretienne ; one of the many tracts issued by tlie Pro- 
 testants in those times, and wliich fill a large space in the Memoires 
 de Cond(5. An(|netil says that the Calvinists took up arms for reli- 
 gion ; et les micoiitenli seulemenl conlre les Guises.
 
 A (TIIErTArN WANTED. 105 
 
 deeply- rooted intention of the Protestants ;ind their syni[)a- 
 thizers to resist an intolerable oppression. 
 
 The Guises knew that they were forcing their opponents 
 to measures of self-defence. They ordered the guards " to 
 wear jackets of mail and pistols," but they forbade all gen- 
 tlemen to carry arms, and even to wear any sort of garments 
 in which weapons might easily be concealed. Laws which 
 regulate dress must always be offensive to a people. The 
 long, sleeveless cloak of that day must be laid aside. The 
 order bore, it seems, only upon the Protestants, and they 
 probably went on wearing what they pleased. One proof 
 api)ears in the rescue of seventeen persons who had been 
 arrested at Blois"for the Word's sake." An escort was 
 taking them to Orleans, when sixty armed men rode down 
 upon them and set all the prisoners at liberty. 
 
 Whisjiers of a plot to seize the young king and rescue 
 tlie throne from "the usurping foreigners" reached Calvin. 
 A gentleman of military rank visited him, introduciug 
 himself as Godfrey du Barry, the Sieur de la Kenaudie, 
 and asking him, "Is it lawful to resist the tyrants who op- 
 j)ress the people of God ?" 
 
 "It is not lawful to emi)loy arms against rulers; there is 
 no warrant for it in the word of God," replied Calvin, 
 making good his point by the proofs. "Even if there were 
 some warrant for it, your measures are ill-devised, pre- 
 sumptuous and certain of failure." 
 
 "We do not propose to shed blood," said the captain, 
 "but to rescue our king and establish his authority." 
 
 "If a single drop of blood is shed in such an attempt, 
 floods of it will deluge Europe ; and it is better that we 
 should perish a hundred times than exj)ose Christianity to 
 such a reproach. Yet a distinction might be made. If 
 the princes of the 1)1o(k1 demand to be maintained in their 
 rights for the common good, and if the parliament join
 
 1C)C) ADMIRAL COLTGNY. 
 
 them ill their claims, theu," said the Kcformer, "I admit 
 that it will be lawful for all good subjects to leud them 
 armed assistance." 
 
 The visitor took courage. Might not Calvin concede as 
 much as certain German divines ? They thought that the 
 French Protestants might lawfully oppose the usurpation 
 of the Guises with arms, even, if but one of the princes 
 were at their head. The question then was, " Suppose but 
 one of the princes take this matter in hand, may we not 
 support him?" 
 
 "No," replied Calvin, most emi^hatically. "I condemn 
 all your proposals. I beg of you to abandon all such 
 schemes." Calvin thought that the man took his advice ; 
 therefore he says : " I did not breathe a syllable on the 
 subject, because it would only have been breeding disturb- 
 ances to no purpose." Was this the part of an accomplice? 
 
 Calvin afterward wrote to defend himself and his breth- 
 ren : " When, eight months ago, these designs began to 
 be agitated, I inter])0sed my authority to prevent them 
 from proceeding further — secretly and quietly, it is true, 
 because I feared, if any report about the affair should 
 reach the ears of the enemy, I should be dragging all the 
 godly to a horrid butchery. I fancied that all violent 
 movements had been quashed, and even quieted down, till 
 an individual of no personal merit came to me from France, 
 and boasted that he had been appointed the leader of the 
 enterprise. I at once put a stop to his bragging, and de- 
 clared my utter abhorrence of his conspiracy. The next 
 day this needy wretch, who was hunting in all directions 
 for booty, that he might catch a rich friend in his nets and 
 by a public collection scrape together a good round sum 
 of money, told a barefaced lie, declaring that I did not dis- 
 approve of the conspiracy, but that 1 refused to take any 
 public part iu it, to avoid odium,"
 
 A CI 1 1 HIT A I.N uaxtj:i>. 1U7 
 
 Tlii.s man, La Kenaiulio, was a gentleman oi Perigord. 
 Able and active, he had been rendered desperate by a vex- 
 atious lawsuit. He had been disgraced and punished for 
 the crime of forgery, of which lie had, probably, not been 
 guilty. He had been released from prison and banished, 
 and on his way from France he had met with some one 
 wlio knew the secret intentions of the Prince of Conde. 
 J I is brother-in-law had been put to death by the Duke of 
 (iiiisc, who hoped to silence his revenge by obtaining for 
 him leave to return to his native country and have his law- 
 suit reconsidered. Intrepid, enterprising, smooth, eloquent, 
 insinuating and an enthusiast, he had the qualities for a 
 perfect cons])irator. 
 
 When Calvin learned that his name was used for raising 
 money, he asked Beza to send for La Renaudie. He called 
 in several witnesses, and confronted the schemer to his face. 
 " You knew," said the Reformer, " before you left Paris, 
 that I was utterly opposed to this project, and surely you 
 have not converted me by your pretensions." 
 
 "You will think it more worthy," said La Renaudie, 
 "when I tell you that the Admiral Coligny gives it his 
 favour." 
 
 "That I cannot believe," replied Calvin, "on the testi- 
 mony of one who has proved himself false in this city." 
 
 The conspirator departed, seeking those who would be 
 more easily entrapped. He was successful in enlisting men 
 and gaining money. "As he had a caressing manner,," 
 says Calvin, "and was versed in the art of cajolery, he won 
 the affection of many among us, so that in the space of three 
 days his principles corrupted this city, as if it were by con- 
 tagion, ^lany men among the nobility, as well as among 
 the working-jieople, began to hold secret meetings." All 
 was done " under the seal of an oath not to ilisclose any- 
 thing that was going on." In Berne and L;msanne he also
 
 1G8 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 raised troops, ready for a secret march. The gates of Ge- 
 neva were closely guarded, lest armed men should depart. 
 Various devices were employed to gain an exit. 
 
 Among the French refugees at Geneva for their religion 
 were the Baron Castelnau and the lord of Villemongis. 
 Each had been drawn into the plot. At first Villemongis 
 turned it into ridicule, and flatly refused to have anything 
 to do Avith it. Then, " being frank and straightforward," 
 says Calvin, " he consulted me, whether he should under- 
 take a journey to settle some matters with his brother, who 
 had reduced him to great straits, I have no doubt but he 
 was swayed" by this motive, but he was also actuated by 
 another consideration." 
 
 " I promise to avoid all contact with the conspirators," 
 said he, "and stand aloof from their projects." 
 
 " I know you," replied Calvin. " You will not stand 
 aloof when once you are on the spot. Remain, then, where 
 3'ou are." 
 
 " Of course, if Coligny should command me, I could not 
 dare to refuse entering into the plot." 
 
 " Have you profited so little in the school of God as to 
 do evil to please men? The greatest service you could 
 render the admiral to whom you bear so great an aflfection 
 would be to ])revent him from meddling in this business 
 and toll him that I send him word in the name of God; to 
 avoid all wrong and not become entangled in the affair. 
 But I have no fear of his embarking in such a childish 
 game." * 
 
 * CalvHi's Letters, dlxi., dlxii., dlxiii., dlxxxviii. (the last to Admi- 
 ral Coligny). The extent of Calvin's information shows that he had 
 prompt and full correspondents in France. lie is Avorthy of attention 
 on tlie events of liis time. 
 
 The Amhoise tiln\idt was related to tlie IIiigiicnf)t wars about as the 
 Boston tea afl'air was to the American war of independence. It is
 
 A CHIEFTAIN WANTED. 169 
 
 However, Villeinongis could not rest uutil he had decided 
 to return to France. He intended to visit the admiral, but 
 probably fell into other hands. About sixty persons left 
 Geneva, despite the protests of Calvin. 
 
 La Rcnaudie reappeared in France. His first care was 
 to visit every part of the kingdom and enlist the discon- 
 tented in his scheme — not only Protestants, but Roman 
 Catholics. He drew many of them to Nantes, where they 
 made weddings enough for a capital ruse. The February 
 of 15G0 had just opened. He laid before them his plans. 
 Districts were allotted to different chiefs, who were to raise 
 forces speedily and secretly, and be ready for a sudden 
 movement. At the proper time they were all to take the 
 by-roads and assemble in the neighbourhood of Blois, where 
 the court was then residing. Tiien certain of the leaders 
 were to go unarmed into the king's presence and present a 
 petition for liberty of conscience. Of course this would be 
 rejected, and the leaders dismissed. Then the conspirators 
 were to rush into the town, as if made furious by this re- 
 jection, seize the Guises and hold them for trial, and place 
 the king in the hands of the Prince of Conde, who was to 
 be near the court, but not engaged in the enterprise. 
 
 Such was the plan. Its secresy astonished the historian 
 De Thou, who regards it as a proof of the violent hatred 
 against the Guises — " a hatred which could gather together 
 so many men from all parts of the country ; among whom 
 good faith was so religiously preserved that the first inti- 
 mation the Guises received of the conspiracy was from Ger- 
 many, Italy and Spain, rather than from the spies and in- 
 formers with whom they had covered the face of the king- 
 
 wortiiy of notice because it involved somewhat the Colignys and llieir 
 I'rotestant friends. Tlie literature on tiie subject is very extensive. 
 The Protestants were not alone in holding tiiat in the "tumult" there 
 Vfas pins (h mulcoiilcntcincnl n>ic dc llujotwtcrk, as Anquetil affirms. 
 Vol. I. — Ij
 
 170 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 dom ; one man only being found in Franco, and he a Pro- 
 testant, who, in abhorrence of the thing, couhl be found to 
 divulge it." 
 
 The court was at Blois for the benefit of the young king's 
 health. His presence caused almost a solitude, for upon all 
 sides the peasants had disappeared. He noticed the general 
 fear of him, and asked, sorrowfully, what he had done to 
 excite such a dread and hatred of him. He was soothed 
 by some gentle reply. The fact was, that a strange report 
 had been spread abroad ; it was that the king was a leper, 
 and that the only means of healing him were daily baths 
 of infants' blood ! Who would circulate so horrible a ru- 
 mour? Some persons had gone into the villages, pretend- 
 ing to be sent by the royal family, and taken lists of the 
 young children. One of these presumed agents was ar- 
 rested. He declared that he had acted under the orders of 
 the Cardinal of Lorraine, and that he had been instructed 
 to circulate reports that the blood of all the reigning family 
 W'as corrupt! If this w'ere true, the cardinal meant to ex- 
 cite prejudice against the house of Yalois, and thus open 
 the way for the house of Guise to take the throne. If it 
 was false, the effect was the same ; it aided greatly the scheme. 
 The peasants who remained were ready to give a welcome 
 hiding-place to the assumed liberators of the king. 
 
 The court soon received alarming news. A law^'cr of 
 Paris, named Avenelles, and a Protestant, with whom the 
 chief actor had lodged, had suspected that his many visit- 
 ors had other errands than friendship. He sounded his 
 guest, learned the secret, reported it to the ministers of the 
 king, and got his reward. On the tenth of March (1560), 
 five hundred mounted gentlemen and about twelve hundred 
 armed footmen were to concentrate near Blois. Not a mo- 
 ment was to be lost. The king must be secured. It is said 
 that Catherine let herself down from a window in her escape.
 
 A CHIEFTAIN AV ANTED. 171 
 
 The court, under pretence of a liunting-party, went to the 
 neighbouring vilhige of Aniboi.se, and took refuge in the 
 castle built on a hill and surrounded by a lieavy forest. 
 The royal trooj)s were ordered to hasten and defend the 
 place.* 
 
 " What have I done to ray people, that they thus pursue 
 me?" pitifully asked the poor sick king, weeping as he 
 appealed to his uncles. " 1 will hear their complaints and 
 redress them. I wish that you would absent yourselves for 
 a time, so that I may see whether it is you or me against 
 whom they rage." The Lorraines took good care not to 
 comply with this advice, for, once out of court, they would 
 have seen the whole nobility of France rise up to prevent 
 their return. 
 
 Only those " foreigners" need be afraid, as the court soon 
 learned ; for the king employed that keen diplomatist, 
 Michael de Castelnau,f to ferret out the matter. As he 
 was friendly to the Guises, his testimony is worth attention. 
 He says: "I remember that when the conspiracy of Am- 
 boise was first discovered, having then the honour of being 
 near his majesty's person, he sent me to get what informa- 
 tions I could of their designs. And some told me that 
 their intention was only to present a petition to the king 
 against the house of Guise; that there had been a meeting 
 of Protestants at Nantes on this subject; that La llenaudie 
 Avas appointed to manage the matter ; that he also employed 
 
 * "Tl\e town of Anihoise is moan and ill-l)nilt. . . . The castle is 
 fiituatetl on a craggy rock, extremely difliciilt of access, and the sides of 
 whicii descend almost perpendicuhir. At its foot flows the Loire. I 
 am not surprised that the Duke of Guise, in the appreliension of an 
 insurrection among the Huguenots, chose to remove Francis the Se- 
 cond to this fortress." — Wrujcairs 'Toui- in Fiance, I77G. 
 
 f A very ditTcrent man from the Protestant Castcluau of Geneva, 
 but an admired historian of liis time.
 
 172 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 Conde as the head (although this chief was now at Ara- 
 boise) ; that the resolution was to seize and prosecute the 
 Guises for high treason ; and this with consent of his 
 majesty. Although the Protestants were accused of a 
 design to murder the royal family and the lords of the 
 council, yet the common opinion was that they only 
 intended to extirpate the house of Guise and place the 
 princes of the blood, the families of Montmorency and 
 Chatillon (then out of favour), at the head of affairs, in 
 hopes of being supported by them. And this certainly was 
 their design." 
 
 He also says that the Duke of Guise fell upon a band 
 of the enemy, and " that most of the poor country fellows, 
 not knowing what to do, threw away their old rusty arms 
 and begged for mercy. In their simplicity they declared 
 that they knew nothing more than that they were to meet 
 on a certain day to present a petition to the king, for the 
 good of himself and of the kingdom." Such evidence is 
 not to be set aside.* 
 
 " It is you, it is you," said the young king to the Cardinal 
 of Lorraine, " who have rendered me odious to my sub- 
 jects." He and his queen re])ented the day that they had 
 sacrificed all to the ambition of her uncles. 
 
 "To the Admiral Coligny we must resort," was the advice 
 of Catherine, who heartily rejoiced that she had given some 
 hope to the Protestants and wished to treat with them. 
 Had she received a paper from the minister Chandieu? It 
 so appears from a current report. " Let us follow the 
 counsels which have been so despised. All is lost if Ave do 
 not calm the Protestants." 
 
 " No truce with heretics !" exclaimed the furious Lor- 
 raine ; and the work of blood went on. 
 
 The Guises shrewdly wished to test the Admiral Coligny, 
 * M^moires de Ctustelnau.
 
 A CHIEFTAIN WANTED. 173 
 
 Avhom tlicy suspected and feared. Thoy requested the queen- 
 mother to write to him — for she still favoured him — and 
 invite him to Amboise for the protection of the king.* 
 Andelot wa.s also summoned. Conscious of innocence, the)' 
 repaired to the court without delay. They avowed loyalty, 
 but the admiral gave the advice which the chancellor de- 
 sired. " I do not hesitate to declare," said he, " that the 
 present discontent arises from the violent measures of the 
 administration, and the persecution of those who worship 
 God according to their consciences. Yet it is not too late 
 to allay these disorders. It may be done by publishing an 
 edict granting liberty of conscience, and promising to refer 
 religious disputes to a general council." Catherine also 
 urged that all violent measures be suspended. 
 
 " It must be done," replied the usually wavering Chan- 
 cellor Olivier; and it was attempted at once. An edict 
 was prepared, hurried through parliament and published 
 on the twelfth of March, l^ut the hand of treachery had 
 despoiled it of mercy and justice. It exempted from par- 
 don all Protestant preachers, all who had conspired against 
 the royal family and the pviiicipa! ministers of state, and, 
 in short, everyl^ody wh(j was at all likely to need a pardon. 
 And even a pardoned man was made liable to a secret 
 arrest and s])eodv trial if he had not utterly renounced the 
 Reformed doctrines. This 2)ai)er added fuel to the flames ; 
 and, as if there were not provocation enough, the Duke of 
 Guise asked to be fully confirmed lieutenant-general of the 
 kingdom. There was no one to deny the request; thus he 
 was almost an absolute dictator.f 
 
 * " Ad conciliniii i)i)eni(iue fiTi'inlain." — Pitlldviriito, Hist. Concil, 
 Trident., lib. xiv. cap. 12. Thi.s deft'ndcr of tlie j)o{)cs mentions Ad- 
 miral Colignyas "a man illustrious in virtue, in council, in authority, 
 and in the number of his va.-<.sals." 
 
 f The hand of Lorraine is evident in a proclamation issued the ICth 
 15*
 
 174 ADMIRAL COLIGXY. 
 
 The rriiicc of Conde, tlie mute chief of the movement, 
 was among the first at the trysting-place. But his part was 
 not to make a foray ; it was to thrust himself between the 
 king and the Guises and assume the protection of his sove- 
 reign. As he entered the gates of the castle of Amboise, 
 the unusual number of sentinels and certain precautions in 
 his reception convinced him that the plot was discovered 
 and that he was suspected, but, feeling sure that he had not 
 yet been denounced as a conspirator, he at once declared 
 loyalty to his king. Indeed, his loyalty was so strong that 
 he wished to rescue Francis from tyranny. He affected 
 great indignation on hearing that there were traitors bold 
 enough to threaten violence. He requested that some post 
 might be given him in which he might assist in defending 
 the castle. Did he craftily intend thus to introduce the 
 enemy ? Perhaps he sought to retrieve himself This offer 
 was granted, but pains were taken to place him where he 
 could neither aid the cons2:)irators nor make sure his own 
 escape. 
 
 The dalliance of the King of Navarre had h.elped the 
 Guises into power ; the delay of La Kenaudie and his banil 
 prevented them from being thrust out of power. A sur- 
 prise was the hope of the insurgents, but a surprise was 
 now impossible. Time had worn on from the tenth to the 
 seventeenth of March. The forests, which might have been 
 their avenue to the castle, were now the ambush of its de- 
 fenders. La Renaudie, with five hundred mounted gentry, 
 drew near the gates. IMazeres led seventy picked men into 
 the town to operate with Conde. He concealed them in 
 
 of March, in the name tif the king. It gives the dni<e a royal power 
 to bring all the artillery oi' France against "les seditieux et rebelled," 
 then at the gates of Amboise. He might arrest and punish them with 
 "the pains and usual rigours, without form or figure of trial." — Me- 
 moires de Conde {Pouvoir du Due de Guise).
 
 A ClIIEFTAIX WANTED. 175 
 
 garrets and cellars. Another captain undertook to lodge 
 thirty more in the castle itself. New plots were laid; a new 
 traitor exposed them. 
 
 iV thrilling address was issued to the " French people." 
 It rings like the eloquence of Conde or La Renaudie. It 
 ran : " The hour has come for us to show what faith and 
 loyalty we have to our king. The enterprise is discovered, 
 the house of Guise has detected it. Behold the strangers 
 at our gates ! They would seize all. They know our fidelity 
 to our prince. They would tear him from us. They call 
 for foreign armies from Italy and England. They will tax 
 and oppress you more and more. O poor French nation ! 
 Is this the regard they have for you? Has it come to pass 
 that a king has no subjects to guard and defend him? 
 Will not God, ever good and kind, avenge the blood of the 
 innocent people? Shall these strangers destroy your chil- 
 dren and cover you with infamy? Shall the crown be 
 snatched from those whom the house of Guise calls Hugue- 
 nots,* because they are the descendants of Hugo Capet, and 
 usurped by those who name themselves after Charlemagne?" 
 This was of no avail. 
 
 All was known. The Duke of Guise sent out his men ; 
 they fell upon the advancing parties, scattered them, slew 
 some with the sword, tied others to their horses and dragged 
 them to the castle, where they hung them from the battle- 
 ments ; drowned some in the Loire and stretched others 
 dead in the streets. La Renaudie made a brave and fierce 
 attack, but, finding that his gentlemen could not resist the 
 
 * I i'uu] HO earlier use of this term as applied to a party in France. 
 It is to be noted that it was thus used before the result at Amboise. 
 It did not originate there with the peiisantrv. Of this more again. 
 But we remark that it was then apitlied to all the opposers of the 
 (iuises, and not simply to the I'rotc;<tauts. — Man. de Co)ide {Complainte 
 au Peuple Franfai's).
 
 176 ADMIRAL COT.TGNY. 
 
 veteran warriors, he rushed forward to end his life in an 
 honourable manner; he slew a valiant knight, whose page 
 turned upon him and shot him dead upon the spot. 
 
 The Baron Castelnau was brought to a parley with the 
 Duke of Nemours, who said, "I charge you with disloyalty 
 to your king." 
 
 "1 am not in arms against my king," he replied, "but to 
 remonstrate with him upon the arrogance and violence of 
 his ministers." 
 
 " This is not the manner in which a loyal subject should 
 remonstrate with his king." 
 
 "I and my comrades, in defiance of the Guises," an- 
 swered the noble baron, " wish to open a way to approach 
 his majesty in all reverence and declare our grievances. 
 "NVe could not do this heretofore without risk of seizure; we 
 could not ask our pay for loyal services without being 
 hanged." 
 
 This was too true. Nemours was not insensible to human 
 rights. Changing his tone, he said, " I promise you, on my 
 honour, that if you will surrender, no injury shall be done 
 to you or to any of your comrades. You shall be admitted 
 to the king, state your grievances and depart when and 
 whither you please." He drew forth a paper and signed 
 his name, Jacques de Savoy. 
 
 " I accept it," said Castelnau, " on your good faith." 
 AVith fifteen of his companions he entered the castle of 
 Amboise. But no faith was to be kcj)t with heretics and 
 rebels. These gentlemen were- thrown into a dungeon and 
 loaded with fetters. Nemours protested he was "tormented 
 in his mind about his signature," says Carloix, " for as to 
 his word he could have given the lie without a scruple." 
 
 The few other attempts were of no avail. The speedy 
 work of vengeance began. Search was made in the town, 
 in the woods, in the houses of the peasants, who had fled
 
 A CHIEFTAIN WANTED. 177 
 
 to save tlielr chiklrcn from the supposed leprous king, and 
 many poor, good men perished, simply for being in bad 
 company. Several travelling merchants were robbed and 
 murdered. On the trees, on gibbets and from the battle- 
 ments of the castle hung dead men. Nearly twelve hun- 
 dred were hanged, drowned or beheaded. 
 
 The valiant old Huguenot, John d'Aubigne, was on his 
 way to Paris to put his son Theodore Agrippa to school. 
 He saw the faces of many friends among the dead. The 
 aged warrior, shuddering with horror, forgot that he was 
 amid hundreds of listeners, and exclaimed, "Oh, the trai- 
 tors ! they have murdered France." Then putting his 
 hand upon the head of the lad of nine years, he said, " My 
 son, I charge thee, at the hazard of thy own life, as I will 
 at the hazard of mine, avenge these honourable chiefs; and 
 if thou failest to attempt it, my curse shall follow thee to 
 the grave." The crowd were so enraged that D'Aubign6 
 and his escort barely escaped their resentment. Young 
 Theodore fulfilled this charge, became a heroic Huguenot 
 general and historian, whom we shall often quote. 
 
 In spite of pledge and signature the Baron Castclnau 
 was put to the torture. The Duke of Guise taunted him 
 with fear when he hesitated to answer the questions put to 
 him. "Fear!" said he; " I by no means deny it. Change 
 })laces with me, and see whether every limb of your body 
 shall not quiver! But God will aid me in my defence." 
 
 " I am surprised," said the Chancellor Olivier, " that in 
 your pursuits you should have become such a profound 
 theologian as you now prove yourself to be." 
 
 " I must remind you, sir," was the severe rejdy, " of a 
 conversation we once held together. When I visited you on 
 my return from an imprisonment in Flanders, you asked 
 me how I had employed the tedious hours of my captivity. 
 I replied that I had studied the Holy Scriptures, and ac-
 
 178 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 quainted myself with the controversies then agitating men's 
 spirits. You approved my course ; you resolved the doubts 
 which I still retained, and we mutually agreed. How hap- 
 pens it that, since that time, one of us has so greatly changed 
 his opinions that we cannot now understand each other? I 
 will supply your answer. Tlien you were in disgrace, and 
 spoke in tlie sincerity of your heart ; now you are the 
 wretched eye-servant of court favour, and in order to please 
 a man who probably despises you, you betray your God 
 and your conscience. Did you not then express the wish 
 that all the nobility of France resembled me in zeal and 
 affection, because I had chosen 'that better part?'" The 
 chancellor held down his head abashed, but the tortured 
 man continued : " How dare you, trembling on the edge of 
 the grave, yield to that cardinal? Is it not enough that 
 you lent yourself to persecute the poor churches of INIerin- 
 dol and Cabrieres? Have I not heard you declare with 
 groans and tears that for this God had rejected you ? O 
 miserable man ! You who have trifled, through life, with 
 God and his Word, know that the time of your accouut ia 
 near ! " 
 
 The Cardinal of Lorraine came to the relief of his em- 
 barrassed colleague, but was soon silenced. Castelnau 
 turned to the Duke of Guise, saying, " I beg you to remark 
 that your bi'other is confuted." 
 
 " I know nothing of arguing," replied the duke, brutally; 
 "but I very well understand how to cut off heads." 
 
 "Would to God," answered the baron, "that you did 
 know as much of theology as your brother! I am certain 
 that if you had the light and learning which he possesses, 
 you would employ them to a better purpose. As to the 
 threat of cutting off heads, it is unworthy of such a prince 
 as you." This was a compliment to the duke. But the 
 baron was speedily condemned for treason. On hearing
 
 A CHIEFTAIN WANTED. 179 
 
 his sentence, he said, " I ought tlien to have dechircd that 
 the Guises are the kings of France!" 
 
 The a<hniral and Andelot went to the king and his 
 mother, begging that so good a man be saved, not only on 
 account of his virtues and the eminent services rendered 
 by his faniily to the crown, but also to avoid the popular 
 resentment which his execution would provoke. Catherine 
 (lid all she could ; she even went into their apartments and 
 entreated these "new kings, who were become so invisible." 
 Rut said the cardinal, with an oath, " He shall die ; the 
 man breathes not in France who shall save him." 
 
 With four other captains he was led to the scaffold. He 
 bowed his head to the axe, appealing from the injustice of 
 man to the justice of his Maker. The last of the four was 
 Villemongis, who had refused Calvin's advice. Dipping 
 his hands in the blood of his comrades, he kneeled at the 
 block, and then raising them to heaven, he cried aloud, 
 "Father, behold the blood of thy children! Thou wilt 
 avenge it." 
 
 The whole court witnessed the tragic spectacle. ^lary 
 of Scots was there ; what a lesson for her who needed to 
 learn how to be a political martyr 1 The child soon to be 
 crowned as Charles IX. was there ; he needed to shudder 
 before taking his part in the massacre of St. Bartholomew. 
 But the only person who shrank from the sight was Anne, 
 the Duchess of Guise. Did she recall the piety of her 
 mother, Remc, the firm Protestant, now living in her castle 
 of Montargis? She rushed to her chamber, declaring that 
 vensreance must fall on the heads of her own sons. The 
 Prince of Conde was compelled to be present, and, though 
 surrounded by spies, he uttered words of pity and indig- 
 nation. 
 
 The Chanceller Olivier, usually merciful, retired from 
 the scene, lashed by self-reproach for his temporizing spirit.
 
 180 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 A heavy gloom settled upon his mind, followed by an acute 
 fever. The Cardinal of Lorraine visited him in his last 
 agonies, but, according to one account, he recoiled from the 
 sight, turned his face to the wall and expired. Another 
 account is, that he recalled the execution of Du Bourg, and 
 with despair exclaimed, " Ah, cardinal ! thou hast caused 
 the damnation of us all !" 
 
 The tortured secretary of La Renaudie, in hope of being 
 saved by some exposure of the leaders, affirmed that the 
 Prince of Conde was the silent chief of the movement ; that 
 he designed to murder the king, his brothers, the two queens 
 and the Guises, and, overthrowing the monarchy, establish 
 a republic on the Swiss model. This was incredible, even 
 to the Guises. But the king declared his suspicions in 
 Conde's face, and forbade his departure from Amboise. 
 He demanded an inquiry: in full council he defended him- 
 self, so that the Duke of Guise rose and said, "So firmly 
 am I convinced of the innocence of the prince that if any 
 accuser appear I tender my services as his second." This 
 was, however, consummate hypocrisy. There was not a 
 shadow of evidence that the admiral was a jiarty in the 
 plot;* the leaders feared to trust it to him, and yet he was 
 kept under the vigilance of the court. At the urgent re- 
 quest of his friends, he published a defence of himself a 
 year or two after the affair had tei'minated. 
 
 The stifling air bore witness to the crime of slaughtering 
 so many Frenchmen, who had been honest in their mis- 
 
 * " Some thonglit that if the admiral and Andelot had been con- 
 cerned the plot would have sncceeded better ; but it was believed that, 
 like wise men, they had a mind to see the event of the petition that 
 was to be laid before the king. However none of the conspirators 
 ever charged them with having a hand in it." ( None but the secre- 
 tary of Renaudie, whose words were given under terror and with hope 
 of reward.) — Memoires de Castelnau.
 
 A CIIIKFTAIN WANTED. . 181 
 
 taken policy and conscientious in their motives. The king 
 could not breathe it without hastening his death. The 
 court prepared to remove to Tours. While it was still a 
 (juestion whether to hold the Prince of Cond6 or set him at 
 liberty, he cut the matter short by an escape. As he 
 mounted his horse to depart, his friend Genlis asked him, 
 " What message shall I bear to the king?" 
 
 " Assure him of my most perfect loyalty and submission 
 in every point except religion. I have sworn, and here I 
 solemnly swear again, that I will never go to mass." 
 
 Some of the Protestants came to regard the affair at 
 Amboise as a noble attempt to gain their liberty. It re- 
 vealed to them their strength when properly united and 
 directed. Brantome tells us that many said, "Yesterday we 
 belonged not to the conspiracy, and we would not have been 
 of it for all the gold in the universe ; to-day we would be 
 so for the smallest coin, and we say that the enterprise was 
 good and holy." Not thus said Calvin and the more pious 
 Huguenots. 
 
 The Reform was in ]>cril. The danger was that the 
 spirit of armed and open resistance would carry away the 
 entire Protestant Church in France. Piety should ever be 
 loyal, but it cannot become political without the saddest 
 decline. Conde was rousing the warlike temper in the 
 Protestants, wlio could not think of Anil)oisc and its 
 twelve hundred victims and remain utterly indifferent. 
 He went into the far south-west. He put himself in corre- 
 spondence with the malcontents of all comi)lcxions. One- 
 third of the people of the realm were said to be secretly 
 attached to this party. In various ]ilaces they were prepar- 
 ing for resistance. They heard of Romish priests pouring 
 forth abuse against thetn with lusty lungs. They read fiery 
 pamphlets and broadsides, i)ictured with rude wood-cuts, in 
 which they were represented in the most offensive light. 
 Vol. I.— 16
 
 182 ADMIRAL COLIGNY, 
 
 There were also wits among them. They put forth sharp 
 satires, one of which was " The Tiger," written for the 
 especial benefit of the Cardinal of Lorraine. The authox*- 
 ship is still a mystery, but when a Parisian bookseller would 
 not, or could not, tell the author, he was hanged. No one's 
 life was secure at the capital. 
 
 In various towns the Romanists armed themselves, often 
 Avith priests and monks for their captains. Such move- 
 ments provoked the Huguenots, especially the politicians 
 among them. We need not wonder if they sometimes re- 
 taliated, despite the advice of their preachers and the more 
 devout class. They sold and ate meat* openly during Lent, 
 at Rheims, besides crashing a few windows, lanterns and 
 images in the cathedral. At Rouen a fanatic was preach- 
 ing up purgatory ; he was disturbed, called a fool and cried 
 down. In one of Andelot's tow^is the "new apostles" took 
 possession of the largest church, but they were besieged by 
 the papal clergy, and a culverin pointed against them. 
 They escaped in the night. The bishop was rebuked for it. 
 
 The Prince of Conde was resolved upon a more extended 
 resistance. He wished to capture and hold churches, cas- 
 tles, towns and treasuries in the name of the king. But 
 what a cold chill ran over him when he found his brother 
 Antony like an iceberg in the good old harbour of the 
 Protestants! This weak, fickle king had raised some troops 
 for Amboise, but, on the failure of the plot, he had em- 
 ployed them directly against his friends. Ever eager to 
 ])rovidc for his own safety, he had attacked a body of two 
 tliousand Protestants assembled to give him their support, 
 
 * " If any one eats meat in Lent," Erasmus liad written, "Heavens I 
 what a noise ! The Church is in danger ! the workl is overrun with 
 heretics !" At Angers, in 1539, tliose who were arrested for tliis 
 " heinous sin" were burnt alive if they did not recant, and hanged if 
 they repented.
 
 A CHIEFTAIN WANTKD. 1^3 
 
 and driven them lioine. No pains had lie spared to con- 
 vince the court that he stood by tlie ministers of the king. 
 " Go back," said he to Conde ; " return to tlie (rourt and 
 alhiy all suspicions against you, by being loyal." 
 
 " Loyal!" replied the prince; " I must be loyal to France 
 and to the interests of all true Frenchmen. Come, you are 
 an older Protestant than I am; you profess more piety; will 
 you be disloyal to the great religious party which will rise 
 in its greatness and deliver both State and Church ?" An- 
 tony ever sought to be upon the strongest side. The trimmer 
 now began to think that Cond^ would succeed, and he again 
 changed — a work which skill and practice made easy. His 
 court was once more a refuge for the Protestants. Among 
 them was the elder ]\Ialigny (afterward the Vidame of 
 Chartres), who begged him and Conde, in the name of more 
 than a million of men, to take some bold step in the ad- 
 vance. An appeal was published,* the rallying-cry went 
 forth. The younger ]Maligny led twelve hundred men to 
 surprise Lyons,f but "our Hotspur," as Calvin calls him, 
 failed to hold the city after he had taken it — an illustration 
 of what occurred in other places, where such mistaken 
 efforts were made. It was well. Cond<i was far out of the 
 right road to Huguenot prosperity. 
 
 * Mdm. de Cond(5, Supplication au Roi de Navarre, etc. 
 f Calvin's Lettei-s, dlxx. ; Thuani Hist., lib. x.xv.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Tiro GItEAT r ARTIES. 
 
 THE king was coming to Tours. A baker in the suburbs 
 told his family what a grand entry he would make into 
 the ancient city. His only child, a boy of six years, begged 
 a sight of the gorgeous procession. The man was full of 
 liumour, and sought to amuse his son. He took a donkey 
 from the mill, decorated him with calicoes and set on him 
 the child, who had his eyes bandaged, a wooden helmet on 
 his head, and a crest on which was a red-headed bird peck- 
 ing away at his skull. The donkey was led by two lads 
 coloured and dressed as Moors. 
 
 The court was not in the mood to laugh with the crowd 
 that followed the innocent baker's child. Their dignities 
 saw in this silly masquerade the mystery of their politics. 
 They needed no Daniel to interpret its meaning, for they 
 thought it more than a dream. To their sharp perceptions 
 the blindfolded boy represented the king ; the red-headed 
 bird was the red-capped Cardinal of Lorraine ; the Moorish 
 youths were the foreign princes, and especially the Spanish 
 directors of French affairs. This interpretation was not so 
 far-fetched, but it was altogether unintended. The royal 
 guard were so enraged that they were scarcely restrained 
 from sacking the city. The unmeaning burlesque was 
 charged to the spirit of the harmless Protestants. Perhaps 
 it Avas turned to their good ; for if their faith was not 
 respected, the follies imputed to them wrought a fear of 
 their popular strength. 
 
 184
 
 TWO GREAT PARTIES. 185 
 
 The story is, tliat when the insurgents were fleeing from 
 Aniboiso, the peasants who had harboured tiiem at the rislc 
 of life said, "They are not worth a huguenot" * — a small 
 coin so named from Hugh Capet. Some have imagined 
 this to be the origin of the title given to the Protestants of 
 France; more than a dozen guesses have been made in this 
 direction. The name became more common after this event, 
 simply because those who bore it were more the objects of 
 ridicule. There can be little question that the term had 
 long I)een used in Switzerland, having been derived from 
 the word Eidesgenossen — the oath-bound leaguers, and ap- 
 plied chiefly to the liberty party of Geneva.'}' It might 
 readily pass into France. Davila says, " These people were 
 commonly called Hugonots, because the conventicles that 
 they had in the city of Tours (where that sect first gath- 
 ered strength and increased) were in certain cellars under 
 ground, near Hugo's gate, from whence they were by the 
 vulgar sort named Hugonots ; as in Flanders they were 
 called Geux [beggars], because they Avore the habit of 
 mendicants. Others relate several ridiculous and fabulous 
 inventions concerning the origin of this name." It was, 
 then, a puzzle in less than a hundred years after it was first 
 applied to the Protestants. 
 
 In the pamphlet war of the times another origin was 
 claimed for it by the Protestants, as appears from several 
 
 * Mi'in. do Castolii;iii, ii. 7. 
 
 t Enguenot, iin mot Allemand; en Fraii9ois Bon-alli(;; .says the 
 Kevcreiide Sanir Jeanne de Jussie, a contemporary of William Farel. 
 Ill the margin the word Huguenot is used. — Le Levain du Calrinisme. 
 
 Before me is a very curious and libellons old book (date of 1573), 
 entitled, "Genealogie et la fin des lluguenaux, et descouverte du Cal- 
 vinisine, par M. (iabriel de Saconay." With great learning he draws 
 parallels l)etween the Calvinists and the apes, deriving from the latter 
 the term Huguenot. Perhaps this priest had ntaiiing better to ofler 
 in reply to the scathing pen of Calvin. 
 It; s
 
 186 ADMIRAL COLIC NY, 
 
 of their tracts. The Guises asserted their descent from 
 Charlemagne ; the Valois from Hugues Capet. Those who 
 ■wished to supjiort the latter house against the former took 
 their name from Hugues Capet. The Guises gave it to 
 them in reproach ; they accepted it as an honour.* This 
 origin of the term agrees with the character of those Avho 
 acted with the Protestants from political motives, but names 
 defy all laws of logic. The commotion at Amboise more 
 completely fixes the term upon all the party that resisted 
 the house of Lorraine. The rallying cry of the King of 
 Navarre, while he remained a Huguenot, was, " Christ and 
 Capet." 
 
 And now we have to deal with but two great parties, who 
 are deciding the destinies of France. On the one side are 
 able statesmen, keen dii)lomatists, veteran warriors, clever 
 lawyers, the masses which throng the Romish churches, the 
 array of clergy of all ranks — from the mere lad with a 
 shaven crown and a benefice, to the archbishop and cardi- 
 nal whose rich livings are reckoned by the dozen — the bril- 
 liant assemblage of courtieie, a cabinet in which genius and 
 ambition are rivals for glory, and one woman whose con- 
 
 * In the Histoire tlu Tumult d'Amboise, I find this: "They (the 
 Guises) have conj posed a sobriquet at pleasure, par derision de ceux 
 qu'ils disent eMre de.scendus de la race ditdict Ilugue Capet, les appellans 
 Hufjuenotz, thus reproaching not only the loyal jjcojile, but also the 
 king and ail the princes of the blood." I have already quoted from 
 tlie Cowplainte an Penple Fran^ais, a phrase in which the word is 
 used still earlier than the end of "the Tumult," and applied so widely 
 as to include the king, the princes of the blood and all malcontents^ 
 political and religious. In France, as at Geneva, the name was first 
 applied to the liberty party ; later it was limited to the Protestants. 
 
 Tills fact destroys the claim of those who would derive it from such 
 words as Imr/uenote, a little stone, or a small coin. Moiitluo, an au- 
 thor and warrior of Coligny's own day, says of the Huguenots, "They 
 were so called, I know not why." — Commentaires de Montluc.
 
 TWO GREAT PARTIES. 187 
 
 Bummate art and unquenchable thirst for power make her 
 name still to blaze iu history. And behind these stands a 
 reserve force — a confederacy, whose clear head is at Rome 
 and grasping hand in Spain, and whose policy will turn to 
 account the wiles of statesmanship and the passions of the 
 vulgar. 
 
 On the other side appear a company under tlic ban ; a 
 crowd of malcontents scarcely possible to be organized ; a 
 despised sect, whose preachers deliver their message in one 
 corner and then hasten for life into another, or wander 
 along by-roads as hawkers of tracts, flinging them into 
 cottage and hall as they find the chance ; a persecuted 
 Church whose members look one another in the face and 
 wonder which will go first to the dungeon or the stake; and 
 yet there are with them princes of royal blood, nobles 
 of high degree, chiefs in their castles, gentlemen who can 
 muster each his hundred men on a day's notice, captains 
 trieil in war, soldiers who boast of their part in the famous 
 battles, and a people who can pray; there are conscience, 
 faith and God ; there are the convictions of truth, the fidel- 
 ities of an honest yeomanry, the sagacity of statesmen, the 
 buoyant energies of youth, the enthusiasm felt in a new en- 
 terprise; and along with all these there is one quiet woman 
 at Chatillou whose patriotism will start from inactivity a 
 tremendous force ; and there is in Navarre one other heroic 
 woman who may suffer long her husband's baseness, but may 
 yet nuike her mountains glorious in battle-scenes when she 
 leads her hosts into the war for liberty and religion. 
 
 The clash will come yet more furiously between the peo- 
 ple and the crown, between Rome and Geneva, between 
 ]ni})ist and Huguenot, when it will be seen whether the in- 
 quirer shall be crushed by the inquisitor, and the Guise 
 triumph over the Coligny. 
 
 These sharp conflicts were to be the school for the gradual
 
 188 ADMir.AT> COLIGNY. 
 
 development of a cliaractcr peculiarly new and admirable — 
 one never before in the world, and the like of which has 
 never since been seen, unless we reckon in the same class 
 the Puritan of Cromwell's day. It was that of the genuine 
 Huguenot. Let us anticipate him, for his make and man- 
 ner of man are being determined by the hard training 
 which he receives. He grew up, as the tender plant, from 
 the earth often covered with snows, trodden over by deso- 
 lating troops, and fattened with human blood. The acorn 
 was Calvinism ; the oak was the Huguenot.* The model 
 was Coligny, after whose pattern few men were moulded 
 during the life of Conde. It was after the revived cry of 
 "Capet" had died away, after the ambition for political 
 power had often defeated the great Protestant party, after 
 its chief aim had become religious liliorty, and after all 
 eflbrts had been mainly concentrated upon the one point of 
 securing a free conscience and a free worship, that the real 
 Huguenot appeared, puritied by the march t)irough the 
 iron furnace. 
 
 He was a soldier, with the Testament in his knapsack- 
 the Psalms on his lips, the name of Jehovah on his banner, 
 the altar of God in his tent, the conviction of the Divine 
 Presence ever with him on the field, and the vision of a lib- 
 erated France ever before his eye. The enemies before him 
 were in his view the enemies of God — Philistines, Moabites, 
 the invading hosts of Sennacherib — and, as they had begun 
 each new war for their papal idolatries, he might defend 
 his holy religion and fire each shot with a prayer, and see 
 with thanksgiving a routed foe. He rushed to the charge 
 without fear ; he cut right and left with unsparing severity; 
 he made it his work until the order was given to desist. 
 He held sacred every truce and treaty. He had mercy for 
 
 * Tliere is certainly no historic connection between tlie Vaudois and 
 Ihe IIiicruGnots.
 
 'nVO GREAT PARTIES. 189 
 
 the prisoner, the wounded and the dying. He forgave as 
 generously as he had fought grievously. He boasted not 
 of his own valour if he was the conqueror; he had no 
 <lesi):iir if he was vanquished. He murmured not if he 
 must die for Christ and for country. Commending to God 
 his dependent })arcnts, or his wife and little ones, he closed 
 his eyes, gave up his soul, and expected the foe to rifle his 
 coat, send his armour as a trophy to the papal Leaguers and 
 leave his body for the eagles and his bones to bleach under 
 a sun that might yet shine upon a liberated kingdom. It 
 was for the defence of religion that he gave himself a 
 sacrifice. 
 
 "Honest as a Huguenot" was the proverb coined in his 
 honour, and made current through long generations. As a 
 neighbour, he was just and truthful ; as a civilian, rare in 
 his integrity and observance of law; as an artisan or a 
 tradesman, he attended to his own affairs, and his goods 
 hail their value upon their very face; as an oflicial, he 
 could be trusted with untold gold, and happy was the Pha- 
 raoh who had such a Joseph at court. When Romanist 
 noble or king wished for an honest man, to whom he could 
 entrust life and property, he drew into his service a PIu- 
 guenot. Even Charles IX. retained, to the last hour of his 
 life, the old Huguenot nurse who had rocked his cradle, and 
 he would have no other physician than Ambrose Par6, the 
 chosen surgeon of his grandfather. Among all the Italian 
 poisoners, Catherine knew that her children were safe when 
 such a man dealt out the medicines. And she, too, must 
 have her Huguenot ladies to succeed the trustworthy Mad- 
 ame de Chatilhm and ]Madame de Ivoye. She long felt 
 safest when Coligny was at the court. Tliis compliment to 
 Huguenot integrity was paid everywhere, down to the latest 
 times. 
 
 The man of this stamp liated Kome. She was to him
 
 190 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 the mother of abominations. She deluded souls by her 
 harlotries ; she robbed them at her masses and confession- 
 boxes. She drove the sheep into her folds, and fleeced them 
 with barbarous shears. And he well knew her false system, 
 for his father had once been mired in the depths and steeped 
 to the very eyes in her idolatries. He knew both sides of 
 the great religious questions of his age. He exposed the 
 evils, in the fireside talk ; he drew their remedy from the 
 Bible upon the mantel-piece. He sometimes went beyond 
 the line of prudence, for he showed up the wretched sins 
 of the priests to their blinded parishioners, or even bearded 
 the vicar and gave him irritating sketches of the papacy 
 from the times of that bad woman (as he thought). Pope 
 Joan. He sometimes provoked an assault upon his house 
 or a bonfire of his Protestant books, and he must take joy- 
 fully the spoiling of his goods. Even in times of peace he 
 lived daily waiting for an arrest, a sham trial, an imprison- 
 ment or banishment to the galleys. A simple denial that 
 he was a full believer in the doctrines of Calvin, or a silent 
 attendance upon mass, might ensure to him an undisturbed 
 life with his family; but he regarded the proposal as an 
 insult, and nobly held fast to his convictions. 
 
 Henry III. had some feeble appreciation of the genius 
 of Bernard de Palissy, the famous potter, and offered to set 
 him free from the dungeons of the Bastille on the easy con- 
 dition of giving up his faith. " My worthy friend," said 
 the monarch, " you have now been forty-five years in the 
 service of my mother and myself; we have suffered you to 
 retain your religion amidst fire and slaughter. I am now 
 so pressed by the Guises and my peojile that I find myself 
 compelled to deliver you into the hands of your enemies, 
 and to-morrow will you be burnt unless you are converted." 
 
 "Sire," answered the old man, "I am ready to give up 
 the remainder of my life for the honour of God. You have
 
 TWO GREAT PARTIES. 191 
 
 told me several times that you pity me, and now in turn I 
 pity you who use the words, ' I am compelled.' It was not 
 spoken like a king. Sire ; and they arc words which neither 
 you, nor the Guises, nor the people, shall ever make me 
 utter. 8ire, I can die." By continually yielding, the 
 monarch had become a slave ; by continually acting up to 
 his convictions, the potter had become more than a king. 
 
 The delight of the genuine Huguenot was the preche — 
 the preaching. Casaubon thus writes in his journal : " The 
 cold and other difficulties have deprived us from attending 
 the holy word. Oh, how can we pass a day without this 
 benefit! . . . Again the severe winter shuts us in at home. 
 Pardon us, O Lord ! ... At length God favours us ; we 
 have shared in the holy mysteries. . . . We all went to the 
 temple (at Charenton), myself, my wife and a party of 
 children, and our joy was incredible."* To such a man 
 the pastor was the ambassador of God, respected, loved 
 and followed as the shepherd of the flock. For mere art 
 the Huguenot cared little ; if statues were idols, he was 
 ready to grind them to powder. He believed in the first 
 and second commandments. Because he was not senti- 
 mental he has been described as severe; because he 
 thought more of true doctrine than of mere ornament — 
 more of the reality than of the outward beauty of worship 
 — more of communion with God than of social customs and 
 amusements — he has been charged with austerity, rigorous 
 gravity, and a stern manner of devotion. But his was not 
 the school for the cultivation of the softer poetic sentiments. 
 His piety was not rose-coloured, nor fragrant of mignon- 
 ette. It was oaken, the pure stuff, with a grain of its own, 
 and unoiled and unvarnished. It was solid ; perhaps 
 rather legal than spiritual. It had in it a conscience 
 wliirh no man could liusli with bribes, and for which he 
 * KplK'iiK'r'ulos de Casaubon ; Hiilktin du Prot. Fraiu'., iii. 4ul.
 
 192 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 was ready to figlit. Not mere joy in the heart of man, but 
 peace with God, Avas the thing that he sought while a pil- 
 grim on the earth, marching to heaven. 
 
 Perhaps the crowning glory of the genuine Huguenot 
 was the order and worship in his own house. We saw the 
 model in the castle at Chatillon. His sanctuary was the 
 hearthstone. There the father was the chief, the patriarch, 
 the pastor, the high-priest. IMorning and evening, when he 
 was not away in the wars, he read and explained the Bible. 
 Time was given for meditation. Children were taught to 
 be silent and think, to ask and answer questions, to repeat 
 Psalms and recite catechisms, to give good reasons for not 
 being papists, and to state clearly why they were Calvinists, 
 They joined in the domestic v&spers — the loud songs, the 
 stately chants, the solemn prayers. The wife was distin- 
 guished by her fidelity, the daughters by modesty and the 
 sons by a serious demeanour. If one was tempted and if 
 virtue was lost, the rest were plunged into sadness ; they 
 fasted and prayed for the divine mercy. Out of such 
 households arose those great names — Mornay and Daille, 
 Basnage and Saurin, Claude and Drelincourt. It was the 
 last who said, " My bed of health and of rest will be in 
 heaven." 
 
 Such was the true Huguenot, growing up in the rough 
 times of the first civil wars to praise God for the edict of 
 Nantes, and to bear the terrible stroke of its repeal. It 
 was but a young character in the party of which Coligny 
 was the real leader. In the other party was the forming 
 character of the Leaguer and the political Jesuit.* But 
 this digression must end. 
 
 Catherine de Medici saw these two parties growing up 
 from their infancy into giants. More than ever did she 
 
 * Puaux has given me the hint for the attenij^ted portrait of the 
 Hiiffuenot.
 
 TWO GREAT I'ARTIES. 193 
 
 wish to be borne aloft on the shoulders of both. She was 
 her own spy in the Guisard camp ; she must now have a 
 word with the Huguenots. She sent for the minister Chan- 
 dieu to come and make known the causes of Protestant 
 discontent, and to suggest the means of peace. But Chan- 
 dieu w'as not in Paris; doubtless he was away upon a mis- 
 sionary tour. He had already sent a paper to Catherine, 
 and it had fallen into the hands of Lorraine, who asked, 
 " Why do you put yourself in connection with these 
 rebels '?" 
 
 " I do it, sir," slic replied with much si)irit, " to get at 
 their designs. If you desire it, I will call hither Regnier 
 de la Plauche, a Huguenot, one of Marshal Montmo- 
 rency's confidants, and while we talk about Protestant af- 
 fairs you can be hidden behind the tapestries and listen to 
 your own satisfaction." 
 
 The cardinal assented. The man whom she called was a 
 Parisian gentleman, a strong Calvinist, who was an orna- 
 ment to his profession of faith — learned, serious, striking his 
 point in every sentence he spoke, at home in theology, and 
 not likely to lose himself in the windings of politics.* "It 
 is a rme of the Guises," thought he, and he declined to ap- 
 pear. Catherine insisted, begged ; now persuaded, now 
 menaced. At length he came. He went right to the heart 
 of the subject at ouce. "There are, madame," said he 
 (the tapestry hiding the clerical eavesdropper) — " there are 
 among the Protestants the Huguenots of religion and the 
 Huguenots of state ; the first demand an end to the perse- 
 cutions — the second, the expulsion of the Guises, as 'strangers,' 
 from the crown-councils. You yourself have an interest in 
 keeping them within just bounds, for you are the mother 
 of infant princes." The wincing cardinal had patience. 
 
 * He is the reputed author of a Ilisfoire de TKUit de France . . . 
 sous le Regnede Franyois II., 1571, and aduiired for liis impartiality. 
 Vol. I.— 17
 
 194 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 " It is unjust," replied the queen-mother, " to speak thus 
 of men who have rendered so great services to the state. 
 Is it astonishing tliat I should be attached to princes whom 
 my late husband esteemed so highly ?" Here was dust 
 for the eyes of the cardinal which his veil could not 
 exclude. 
 
 " Great services, indeed ! It is their shrewd policy to 
 report everywhere that the Amboise affair was a rebellion 
 against the crown. They know what they have to fear — " 
 
 " Enough of this. Tell me what you know about the 
 conspirators — those still in our hands." 
 
 "Madame, I am not a spy" (did the curtains rustle?); 
 " you invited me to tell you what course you should pursue 
 in regard to the Guises — " 
 
 " Be cautious ; you are at court." La Planche left the 
 room, found an officer waiting for him and went to prison. 
 
 The cardinal dared not revenge himself upon La Planche. 
 " He is an honest fellow*, after all," said he. " I am rather 
 the w'iser for his blunt words. Inexperienced in court mat- 
 ters, he knows not the art of talking voluminously and yet 
 saying nothing. Let him go." At the end of four days 
 the candid Huguenot went home with a paragraph for his 
 history.* 
 
 Happy for France if there had been a John Knox then 
 at the head of her Reform ! a man bold in the face of 
 royalty, scathing upon usurpers, reading the tendency of 
 political schemes so that he could utter strange prophecies, 
 seizing the pen and scaring his enemies into their retreats, 
 taking the pulpit and making the very walls tremble — earn- 
 est, pithy, now colloquial, now satirical, often coarse, but 
 always to the point and always successful. By his addresses 
 and sermons he made public opinion, roused the popular 
 
 * Haag, France Proteslante ; Puaux, Hist, de la Reform. M6- 
 nioires de Castelnau.
 
 TM'O GREAT PARTIES. 196 
 
 heart, and then directed tlie public will.* In France no 
 such man appeared. Calvin was too far away to seize just 
 the moment for a victory. There wa.s too little enlightened 
 opinion. There was much to inflame men's minds ; little 
 to guide them into calm seas of prosperity. There was spirit 
 enough, but it was military, rather than moral. It was the 
 call to arms, rather than the tearful call to repentance. It 
 was the figiit for liberty, rather than the good fight of faith. 
 A resistless Knox was needed, even at the court of Conde. 
 
 The Admiral Coligny adopted measures more in harmony 
 with his principles. He wished for honourable peace and 
 her more glorious triumphs. He believed in a God who 
 could bring the Guises to naught, or who permitted them 
 to rule for some great purpose. He was in communication 
 with Calvin, who persisted in restraining the Huguenots 
 from acts of war, and who, snatching up the pen pointed for 
 " to-morrow's sermon," wrote, " Unless I had interposed, 
 many districts would have been involved in a dreadful con- 
 flagration. . . . An excess of confidence has turned the 
 heads of our people. For in opposition to what we have 
 always forbidden, they seize uy)on the [Romish] churches 
 or preach in public places. The brethren sent by us make 
 this excuse, that they are dragged forward by necessity, as 
 there is no private dwelling capal)le of holding four thou- 
 sand people. . . . The events of futurity are in the hands 
 of God." 
 
 Coligny had proved to the court that his grief over the 
 late plots was sincere. He and Andelot sought to be dis- 
 missed and return to their homes. " We camiot spare you 
 yet," said Catherine, who had caressetl the Chatillons in 
 order to annoy the Guises. " Why do you wish to go?" 
 
 " If I had no more to do," said Coligny, " than to retire 
 and pray for my persecuted brethren, it would seem enough 
 * Tytler, Hist. Scotland, vol. vii. 121.
 
 196 ADMIRAL COLIGXY. 
 
 for the rest of ray life, unless the present edicts be annulled." 
 Had he seen a copy of the recent instructions to the pro- 
 vincial governors? Like this they raH, for the king's let- 
 ters are still in existence: "I command you to transport 
 yourself to all suspected places, and learn from good Catho- 
 lics the names of those who are present at the preachings ; 
 to seize the preachers and hang them without form of trial 
 by the provost-marshal ; to put all Huguenots who pub- 
 licly avow their religion into the hands of justice, and judge 
 them incontinently ; if the assistants at such meetings be 
 armed, to hang or cut them to pieces ; and in regard to such 
 as shall not be arrested, the king leaves it to your discretion 
 to disfranchise them, confiscate tlieir property, demolish 
 their houses, and fine them as you see fit!" Rapacious 
 agents would see fit to enrich themselves by sparing those 
 ■who would pay largely to be undisturbed, and by robbing 
 all who were firm in the faith. 
 
 " If you cannot spare me," said Coligny, " you must 
 allow me to plead for my friends. I ask that ]\Iichael de 
 I'Hupital be appointed chancellor of France, in place of the 
 deceased Olivier." Catherine was not quite surprised. He 
 insisted ; it would go far to satisfy the disaffected people. 
 And his untold hope was that it would make the late edicts 
 as good as a dead letter. If there be outrageous laws, 
 blessed is it when the chief of all lawyers will not put them 
 in force. He earnestly pressed his suit. She would think 
 about it, and she did think. She thought that she saw a 
 new means of dividing and reigning. This female Machia- 
 vel wanted to overreach the Cardinal of Lorraine. She 
 acted cautiously, and again summoned Coligny to break to 
 him the result. 
 
 " I have at last gained the point which you so strongly 
 urged," said Catherine, "and De I'Hupital is appointed 
 chancellor. It has been granted to silence my pertinacity."
 
 TWO GREAT PARTIES. 197 
 
 "The ministry, then, have concluded that he ^Yas not 
 engaged in the plot of Amboise?" 
 
 " No more than I was,* or your uncle Montmorency, for 
 you know we have all been suspected. De I'llopital will be- 
 friend you and your brethren, especially if his wife be a 
 Huguenot." 
 
 We covet space for a full portrait of the character of 
 this man, whom Brantome calls " the greatest chancellor, 
 the most learned, the most dignified and the most beloved 
 ever known to France." 
 
 This man, providentially raised up for a crisis, was the 
 son of a i)]iysician in Auvergne, and born about the year 
 1505. His father Avas suspected of a share in the treason 
 of the Constable Bourbon, and young Michael had to suffer 
 for it. While studying law at Toulouse, he was thrown 
 into prison, where he learned to have compassion for those 
 of a later day, who w^ere in deeper dungeons for heresy. 
 Proved innocent, he was released and joined his father at 
 IMilan. Still in danger of arrest in a foreign land, he dis- 
 guised himself as a muleteer and went to Padua. There 
 he took up the law again. After various travels and a re- 
 turn to France, he laid aside the i*obes of an advocate and 
 fre([uontod the court. He rose upon liis merits. Important 
 missions were entrusted to him. He was sent to a council 
 at Cologne, held for the reform of abuses in the Church, 
 and got a deeper insight into the errors of Rome. In all 
 his offices, as treasurer, councillor, envoy, superintendent, 
 he sought only to do well his duty and be just to all men. 
 Others grew rich by public plunder; he had not always the 
 
 * Tlic historians report tlie siisi)icioiis tlien fiirreiit, tliat f'atlierine 
 W.1S somewluit involved in the sclienic. Slie would not h;ive objected 
 to the rescue of her son from tlie Ciuises. She had urged Montmo- 
 rency to bring forward Antony Navarre to supplant them, and yet she 
 had assented to their appointment. — Bmjle. 
 17 »
 
 198 ADMIRAL COLTGXY. 
 
 bread for the morrow. Laborious, grave, plillosopliic, he 
 was still a poet; courageous, firm, lunnanc, he was to go 
 forward and remove some of the obstacles to free thought 
 and worship. As a young magistrate he was a severe 
 censor of the abuses in the magistracy. One of these 
 abuses was the injustice shown in the pretended trial of 
 those accused of heresy ; against this he revolted, and still 
 the very chief of persecutors respected him. Chancellor 
 Olivier loved him as a son. Catherine de Medici saw in 
 him a man who, without having a price, would counteract 
 the power of the Lorraines. The cardinal hoped to man- 
 age him if he must be made chancellor of state, for he 
 had once patronized him. What a juncture of aflflxirs ! 
 Catherine willing to do well, only because the cardinal 
 wished to do ill. 
 
 Bayle says the Guises hoped " he would do all they had 
 a mind to. They were mistaken ; for he had laid down as 
 his maxim the good of tlie kingdom and the true interests 
 of the king, his master. 'Tis true, he was obliged to use ad- 
 dress, because if he openly opposed the designs of the Guises, 
 he had not been able to remedy the confusions of France. 
 He was forced, then, to swim betwixt two streams, and by 
 that prudent conduct he turned off some storms which 
 threatened the kingdom, and found means to do good ser- 
 vice to his country as much as the miserable condition of 
 the times would permit him. . . . There is no doubt but 
 that if he had l)een sole manager of these things he would 
 have procured a full toleration for the Protestants." One 
 of his fre(pient sayings to those who were alarmed at the 
 evils of the day, was, "Patience, patience; all will go well." 
 His wife was Mary Morin, a daughter of the lieutenant- 
 criminal* — the same man who had almost seized young 
 
 * Homme sans Dieu ne conscience, lequel ayant fait mourin tant de 
 fideles. — Memoires de Conde, xiy.
 
 TWO GKEAT PARTIES. 109 
 
 Calvin, wlicn lie escaped from Ills college window and fled 
 from Paris. Calvin must have been pleased to know that 
 she was a Protestant. Nor was he far from it. Brantorae 
 says, "He was reckoned a Huguenot, though he went to 
 mass ; but it was said at court, ' God keep us from the mass 
 of Monsieur de rHopital.'" This was hardly true of him 
 when to his hands was first entrusted the great seal of 
 France.* 
 
 "And I have a commission for you, Monsieur I'Admiral," 
 said Catherine — " one tliat will please you. Go down 
 among your favourite Normans, and inquire the real cause 
 of their discontent; their commotions are alarming. You 
 have great influence over them, for they are nearly all your 
 brethren in the faith." 
 
 Never had Coligny gone upon a more delightful mission. 
 He had done much to extend the gospel in Normandy, 
 which had long been called " Little Germany," on account 
 of its Protestantism. He found his brethren meeting by 
 thousands in the open air for the worship of God. Even 
 several French priests were secret Calvinists. " What," he 
 asked of the wiser men — " what are the causes of the disaf- 
 fection toward the government? Why are the Normans 
 ready to spring to arms ?" 
 
 " They are but two," was the reply. " The first is the 
 persecutions waged against us as Protestants ; the second is 
 the rigid tyranny of tlie king's ministers. We cannot sup- 
 plicate our king ; the Guises deny us the right of access 
 and of petition." 
 
 " Draw up a petition to his majesty ; I will have it pre- 
 sented." The admiral sent letters to Catherine, in which 
 he frankly reported the causes of the popular disaffection, 
 
 * Nouvelles Recherches Historiqiies Pur la Vie et les Ouvrages du 
 Chancellor de I'Hopital ; par A. II. Taillandicr, Paris, 1S61. (Euvies 
 de Condorcet, Eloge sur de I'llMpital.
 
 200 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 and strongly urged her to take the administration of affairs 
 in her own hands — advice which she was ready enough to 
 follow. 
 
 Not yet was the Cardinal of Lorraine satisfied with 
 power for himself and for Rome. He openly made another 
 effort to establish the Spanish mode of the inquisition in 
 France. The late conspiracy had proved to his mind the 
 need of it. The Chancellor de I'Hopital bravely resisted it. 
 He pointed to Spain as a land of woe on account of this 
 engine of tyranny. It would cause a revolution. No 
 heroic people would endure it. The struggle was sharp, 
 and the chancellor saved his country from the curse. But 
 he was obliged to compromise. The result was the edict of 
 Romorantin, named from the town whence it was dated in 
 May, 1560. By it all heresies were to be judged in an ec- 
 clesiastical court ; magistrates and parliaments were forbid- 
 den to meddle with the subject. The principle was right, 
 but Roman prelates took advantage of it. 
 
 " What have w^e gained ?" asked such men as Coligny, 
 who saw no relief in the new edict. " We are still in the 
 power of the bishops ; we cannot assemble publicly for re- 
 ligious worship ; if we meet secretly, we shall be declared 
 guilty of high treason, and great rewards are offered to all 
 informers." 
 
 "Patience! all will l)e well," replied the chancellor. 
 " We have staved off" the inquisition ; this is something. 
 AVe have dissatisfied all parties — Catholics, Protestants, 
 politicians and councillors — that is still more. We have 
 laid down a great stepping-stone to wider toleration ; stand 
 on that now, and the next one will be higher still, and thus 
 we may go on until we rise into liberty of conscience." 
 Two important measures were now introduced by the chan- 
 cellor — one for the State, the other for the Church, 
 
 The chancellor had the next stone ready. Forty years
 
 TAVO GRKAT PARTIES. 20 1 
 
 luiJ passed since France had bclicld tlie shadow of a fair, 
 full representative assembly called by the king. Coligiiy 
 had asked it ; part of the Amboise scheme was to demand 
 it ; the whole country was urging an assembly of the states- 
 general. De rilopital said : " It is too much to demand 
 at present — too high a step to be made — a stone or two first. 
 Let us ask for an assembly of the notables." 
 
 "Agreed," said Coligny. "I shall have some papers 
 ready." The Guises gave their assent, thinking to remain 
 masters of the situation. Letters-patent were sent to all 
 the ministers of the crown, the princes of the blood and 
 such of the nobles and knights as were illustrious for birth 
 or influence. They were summoned to meet on the twen- 
 tieth of August, at Fontainebleau. 
 
 A new thing was seen under the sun of France : the 
 king was surrounded by a large military force when he 
 came to the palace of the old Fontaine de Belle Eau. 
 AVhy such troops? Was he the first French king who 
 feared his people? Or did his uncles think to awe the 
 nobles into silence ? The new mode added no new star to 
 the fame of the Guises. The Duke of Guise was not con- 
 tent with this novelty ; he posted troops on all the roads in 
 the neighbourhood. But what was his surprise when he 
 saw jNIontniorency and his sons, with eight hundred gentle- 
 men on horseback, filing down the avenues that led to the 
 castle! Then came the Colignys, with their suite and nine 
 huiulred of the lesser gentry. But the Bourbon princes did 
 not aj)pcar. De Thou tells us that they had agreed with 
 Coligny never to meet at the same place with him. (^uitc 
 likely they did not relish his speeches and his moderation. 
 Their secret enterprises were enough to render it imprudent 
 for them to attend. The assembly opened. The chancellor 
 hesitated a moment in his long, wearying speech, and then 
 waked up all sluniberei's by saying, "The kingdom is sick ;
 
 202 ADMIEAL COLIGNY. 
 
 it must be cured. There are divisipns in religion, d'sorder 
 in the provinces, insubordination everywhere. So i^ 
 
 must be done for the people." This was quite eno 
 ponder for one day, together with the call of the Dr' *" 
 Guise for an army of suppression, and his brother's sad 
 report of a lean treasury. Who would pay the soldiers? 
 
 No sooner had the second session opened than Admiral 
 Coligny stepped forward to the throne and, bending one 
 knee, presented two petitions to the king; then, raising his 
 voice so that all might hear him, he said, "that having 
 been sent into Normandy by his majesty's orders, to inquire 
 into the causes of the troubles in that province, he had 
 found that the first and main reason was the persecutions 
 on account of religion. Great numbers in that part of the 
 country, professing the Ileformed religion, had requested 
 him to present their humble petitions to the king, which he 
 now did, not thinking it right to disappoint the wishes of 
 so many worthy people."* 
 
 All present were astonished at such boldness, for he was 
 running into the face of death. The king had not been 
 taught his lesson beforehand ; he therefore received the 
 papers and ordered them to be read. In the first the peti- 
 tioners renounced all part in such enterprises as that of 
 Amboise. The second was the more important ; it was 
 headed, " The supplication of the faithful in sundry prov- 
 inces, who call on the name of God and desire to live 
 according to the true rule of faith." 
 
 All ears were attentive to these sentences: " AVe confess 
 that we never so well understood our duty to your majesty 
 as since we have learned it from the holy doctrines preached 
 to us. . . . Be jileased to allow us templesf of our own in 
 
 * Vita CoHnii ; Lacratelle; De Tliou. 
 
 t The term used by tlie Frencli Protestants, who were not allowed 
 to call their houses of public worship "churches."
 
 TWO GKEAT TAUTIES. 203 
 
 evert»'o;ty jukJ town, according to our number.^, .so that we 
 J "Mnble by day, hear the word of God, offer prayers 
 
 ' state and receive the sacraments as ordained by our 
 I ../without being molested by those who know not the 
 trutli in God. . . . Having such places, if we meet else- 
 wliere, hold nightly a.ssemblies, or do anything contrary to 
 the public peace, we are content to be punished as .sedi- 
 tious and rebellious. . . . If it be desirable, we will consent 
 to pay larger taxes than other of your subjects, in order 
 to show how wrongfully we are accused of a wish to ex- 
 empt ourselves from tribute." Was ever anything fairer 
 oflered ? 
 
 " The petitions are not signed," said the secretary. Hasty 
 men were ready to move that the papers be destroyed and 
 the admiral punished for his fraud. 
 
 " It is true," said the deliberate Coligny, " they bear no 
 names. Therefore I at first refused to present them. But 
 what was the answer of the people? They said, 'Gain us 
 but leave to meet, and in a single day you shall have fifty 
 thousand signatures!'" 
 
 " And I," retorted the Duke of Guise, " will find one hun- 
 dred thousand men, whom I will head, who will sign the 
 contrary with their own blood !" 
 
 At these words there was no small stir in the assembly. 
 But the Guisards could not have their own way. The king 
 requested the opinions of the members on the memorials. 
 Two prelates were present, who had been in Eonie and 
 visited Protestant countries, noting the differences between 
 them. 
 
 Jean Montluc arose ; all were silent to the voice of the 
 bishop of Valence, as he said : " The doctrine, Sire, which 
 so many of your subjects have embraced is not the hasty 
 produce of three or four short days, but it has been rij)en- 
 ing gradually for thirty years. It is preached by three or
 
 204 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 four hundred ministers, skilful in letters, diligent in their 
 calling, of modest, gnive and holy manners, detesting all 
 vice, hating all avarice, willing to die for their principles, 
 and ever bearing on their lips the blessed name of Jesus 
 Christ — a name of sufficient power to unseal the dullest ear 
 and soften the hardest heart. These preachers, Sire, having 
 found your people as sheep without a shepherd, have been 
 received with joy and heard with eagerness." 
 
 He then began with the popes ; showed how they had 
 turned their attention to war and broken their promises ; 
 touched upon the conduct of the kings and officers of justice 
 in their cruel treatment of the people ; and then came to 
 the bishops : " They are, for the most part, idle, forgetful 
 of their account to God, devoted to the collection of their 
 revenues, and spending them in vicious and scandalous toys, 
 so that while the flame was blazing in their dioceses more 
 than forty bishops at a time have been idling in Paris. 
 Sees have been conferred on children and persons utterly 
 ignorant. Priests have been avaricious, buying their offices 
 and doing nothing. Send your money to Rome, and you 
 Avill have sent back to you any number of them, made of 
 barbers, lacqueys and scullions, all gaping for a benefice. 
 . . . These are the excellent methods which we have chosen 
 to promote peace and unity in our Church !" 
 
 He admitted that some of the Huguenots were mere poli- 
 ticians, but of those who were sincere and pious, he said, 
 " Look to their lives and their deaths if you would know 
 their motives. Notice their zeal to find the one true way 
 of salvation ; and, having found it, they set all else at 
 naught, and for it endure all loss of worldly goods, all 
 deaths by the most excruciating tortures. Many who 
 would never have heard of the doctrine, when they see men 
 die for it, resolve to search whether it be good or bad ; and, 
 having so searched, are prepared to die for it themselves,
 
 TWO GREAT I'AliTIES. 205 
 
 and to follow in the train of tho.se martyrs who have gone 
 before them." * 
 
 He suggested two means of resolving the difficulty. One 
 was the promotion of true worship, especially at court, that 
 it might be an examj)le for the nation. "Let your majesty 
 see that the Scriptures be everywhere read and explained. 
 Let the gospel be preached daily in your own house, so that 
 those who say that God's holy name is never heard there 
 may be silenced." He then turned to Catherine and Mary 
 8tuart, saying, " Pardon me, ladies, if I entreat you to 
 order your damsels to sing no more foolish songs, but the 
 Psalms of David and spiritual hymns; and remember that 
 the eye of God is over all and in every place, but he looks 
 graciously where his name is praised." The other remedy 
 was a general, free council, or, if the pope refused it, a 
 national assembly of the clergy. This latter measure was 
 boldly advocated by Marillac, Archbishop of Vienne, who 
 seemed to forget all edicts against free speech, and spoke 
 like a Luther: "We must prepare for such a council. We 
 must reform ourselves. We must fast and confess our sins. 
 Both factions must lay down their arms." A great change 
 had taken place since Du Bourg had suffered, or these men 
 would have gone to prison, and De I'Hopital with them. 
 
 The Admiral Coligny was emboldened by such speeches. 
 At the proper time he rose to urge again the prayer of the 
 Normans. He complained of the mode in which the young 
 king was trained by his guardians and surrounded by a 
 large military force, so that he treated his subjects as ene- 
 mies and did not seek to live in their hearts and affections. 
 The young monarch needed a better mode of education. 
 
 " What!" exclaimed the Duke of Guise, with his usual 
 insolence, "does the king need tutors and governors?" 
 
 * Harangue de I'Evesqnc de Valence, filling twenty-two crowded 
 pages in the M^moires de C'ond^. 
 Vol. I.— 18
 
 206 ADMIRAL COLIGXY. 
 
 " He has them," was the spirited reply, " in his advisers 
 and bodyguard. The Bishop of Valence has just recom- 
 mended a more liberal training," 
 
 " Yes, surround him with heretics and your Normans will 
 be satisfied," said the duke. " But we want no such innova- 
 tions. For my part, I will adhere to the old method, what- 
 ever a thousand councils may say. The king is already 
 educated in the practice of every virtue, and besides, if he 
 need any further instruction, his mother is fully competent 
 to the task," 
 
 The admiral still had hopes of Catherine, and yielded to 
 the last remark. He again interceded for the Protestants: 
 " Give them temples, and then send men to listen at their 
 doors, and punish them if they utter rebellious sentiments ; 
 give them liberty of conscience, and you will be astonished 
 at their loyalty and their freedom from all violence." A 
 fair proposal. 
 
 " Is it reasonable," asked the Cardinal of Lorraine, " that 
 the king should bend to these people? Let them bow to 
 him. The king cannot yield to them without the risk of 
 being everlastingly damned ! Are they loyal ? Only on 
 condition that the king be of their sect or approve of it. I 
 glory in their hatred" (and then aside) ; " there are twenty- 
 two of their libels against me, now on my table, and I shall 
 preserve them with great care." He professed to pity those 
 who had gone astray, and to be willing to lay down his life 
 to win them back ! He hoped that the clergy would re- 
 form. He exhorted the bishops to report all abuses to the 
 king, but he was careful to say, " We need no general coun- 
 cil ; let the bishops have their proper authority, and they 
 will correct all real abuses." He denounced the petition 
 as "seditious, impudent, rash, heretical and fanatical." 
 
 "Who has made it sedition for a suffering people to pray 
 their king for relief?" replied Coligny with warmth. "You
 
 TWO GREAT PARTIES. 207 
 
 make it as criiniiuil a.s for tlioui to pray to God. Verily, 
 these are evil times. A niaii who oH'ers his very life to his 
 country must not ask for arrears of pay; the minister 
 of finance calls it impudence, and threatens to han^r him ! 
 A good Christian must not beg the privilege of worshij)i)ing 
 Ids God in the broad light of day ; he is impudent, and he 
 too must be hanged!" 
 
 " Have Ave here demanded that the gibbet be erected ?" 
 asked the cardinal, Avho dared not betray the Avound that 
 he had received. 
 
 " It is not necessary," replied Coligny. " The gibbet is 
 raised already. Hundreds are to-day being hung, because 
 certain men have judged them to be impudent, seditious 
 and heretical." * 
 
 The dispute grew so warm that the king called for order. 
 Quiet was not easily restored. Coligny was supported by 
 a host which alarmed his foes. If there had remained one 
 tie of the old friendship between him and the Duke of Guise, 
 it was now completely severed. " One of the strongest bands 
 which served still to hold together the distracted kingdom 
 was ruptured in a moment," says La Place. We saw it 
 broken three years before. The Guises were defeated, but 
 not conijuered ; they had another scheme on their table. 
 The four most liberal-minded men in the assembly — Mont- 
 luc, Mai'illac, De I'Hdpitaland Coligny — gained their chief 
 
 * Vita Coliiiii ; Perau, Viesde Coligny, de Card. Lorraine, de Guise. 
 
 The charge of inipndcnee might not lie ngainst the Huguenots alone. 
 When Blaise Montlue entreated the Gascons to obey the king, they 
 haughtily replied, "What king? We are the king? The one you 
 mention is a baby-king. We will give him the rod, and teach him 
 to earn his living like other people." The Guisards were quite as 
 BeditioHs, ever ready to sliake llieir fists in the king's face. No royal 
 edict was generally regarded as a law ; they who pleased set it at de- 
 fiance. Almost every man kept the liabms corpus in his own hands. 
 Convenience was the usual measure of loyalty.
 
 208 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 (jbjeet. It was tlio distribution of power, tlie acl<nowle(lg- 
 ment of the people's riglit to be heard, and a footing laid 
 for freer discussion. The States-general (nobles, clergy and 
 commons) should meet in December at Orleans, and steps 
 were taken for a religious conference at Poissy. These 
 were great achievements. 
 
 There was new work now for the Guises. They must 
 first entice the Bourbon princes to the court ; then they 
 must destroy everybody who was dangerous to themselves. 
 " I can set the snare," said the Cardinal of Lorraine. "Let 
 the king send a kind invitation to Navarre for the princes 
 to visit the court and attend the national assembly." 
 
 " Well devised," said his brother. " The Coimt de Crus- 
 sol is just enough of a Huguenot to carry it, with secret in- 
 structions." This was but three days after the adjournment 
 of the council at Fontainebleau. The messenger departed. 
 But Coligny heard of it. AVas it through Madame Crussol, 
 a lady of honour to Queen Catherine ? She was an inquirer 
 for the true religion, of whom good reports soon reached 
 Calvin. Coligny asked his sister, Madame de Roye, to give 
 Avarning to the prince, her son-in-law, and say that he must 
 be prepared to justify himself at the next assembly, if he 
 should resolve to attend. 
 
 "I have a rat-trap* for the whole of them," said the car- 
 dinal, as if a massacre were a huge joke. " Here is an old 
 formula of faith drawn up by the Sorbonne in 1542, which 
 needs to be revived by bathing it in blood. It requires 
 that every person shall hold the great doctrines of the 
 Church, such as the mass, Virgin Mary — " 
 
 " Never mind the doctrines," said the duke. " I am no 
 theologian ; my business, as a warrior, is to see them obeyed. 
 How will you set your trap ?" 
 
 * Adding burlesque to atrocity, lie called his measure "the rat-lrap 
 for the Huguenots." — De Felice.
 
 TWO GREAT PARTIES. 209 
 
 "It must be signed l)y the king, the whole court, the 
 officers of state, tlie nobility, the knights, the clergy and 
 everybody, down as far as we choose to go. Each must 
 take oath to observe it, and to treat as an enemy every one 
 who does not sign it, without regard to father, mother, wife, 
 brother, sister, relative or friend. Those who refuse to take 
 this oath sluill forfeit all offices, honours, estates and even 
 life, without more than one day of mercy."* 
 
 "This will thin out the court amazingly," said tlie duke. 
 "It will swoop the country clean of the rabble who live like 
 the Gcnevose." 
 
 " It will catch the Colignys, for whom it is particularly 
 revived," replied Lorraine. "The admiral must be got out 
 of the way, before another chance is had for him to drag in 
 his petitions and to work on the mind of a king who does 
 not know enough to let his ministers keep him from blun- 
 ders. We might even dispense with his brother Odet, for 
 he is too honest for our use, if he be not a raving Huguenot 
 by this time. They will, of course, refuse to sign it, and 
 then we will teach them the cost of being a heretic." The 
 malice is apparent. 
 
 " Set the trap," added the duke, " and I will send out 
 marshals and troops to scour the provinces and drive the 
 rebels into it, or make spoil of those who will not be driven. 
 Your treasury is low ; expect a full stream to pour into it." 
 This greed of gain was one of the motives in the great per- 
 secutions. 
 
 " We must have money before the spoils come in," said 
 the cardinal. " The clergy must raise it, fur they are 
 deeply interested in the measure. If this source fail, your 
 
 * This formula rc(iuireil that if any one refusing to sign it sliould 
 be panloneil, ho slioiilil thereafter wear a roljo of those colours adopted 
 by the Spanish In(|uisition to mark its criminals, and thus be spotted 
 with perpetual infamy. 
 18 «
 
 210 ADMIPvAL COLIGNY. ' 
 
 armies will seize upon the treasures of churches, and with- 
 out scruple convert relics, crosses, silver candlesticks, and 
 even chalices, into French crowns." Religion was not a 
 leading motive. 
 
 Such was the conspiracy of the Guises and the Guisards.* 
 The Bourbon princes were to be the first victims, then Co- 
 ligny and Andelot, then the Protestant nobility and people, 
 until the extermination of "heresy" was complete. A 
 prison was already chosen for the Prince of Conde in Oi- 
 leans ; and one of its towers was named " the Admiral," by 
 anticipation. The formula was to be offered for signatures 
 on the next Christmas — a document which, De Serres de- 
 clares, " no man of the religion would for a thousand livres 
 have approved or signed." 
 
 But w^e must overtake the Count of Crussol, who was, no 
 doubt, ignorant of evil schemes. He gave to the King of 
 Navarre the letter of Francis II., addressed to " Mon 
 Oncle," and declaring that he had not believed the Bour- 
 bon princes guilty in the aflair of Amboise, for he loved 
 them too well ; but lately his ears were filled with bad 
 reports about the Prince of Conde, and he wished to give 
 him an opportunity to clear himself of such charges. 
 "Therefore, mon oncle, in whom I have perfect confidence, 
 please bring him to me yourself — a matter which I Avould 
 trust to no one else. I shall be happy to find him inno- 
 cent. . . . But I assure you that, if he refuses to obey me, 
 I shall let him understand that I am king."f 
 
 Tliis half-threatening invitation caused no little excite- 
 ment at Nerac. " Do not move an inch in that direction," 
 said Queen Jeanne, " or you are ruined." 
 
 "If you do not go," whispered Crussol aside, "you are 
 most certain of ruin. A Flemish army will be sent down 
 
 * " La faction des Guisards." — Benoit, Edit, de Nantea. 
 t Given in M^m. de Cond^.
 
 TWO GREAT PARTIES. 211 
 
 to attack you on one side, and Philip of Spain engages to 
 march upon you on the other." A secret agent had been 
 sent to Philip II. to carry out this part of the programme. 
 
 Still the ])rinces hesitated. Then came letters from the 
 court assuring them "that no harm should happen." Cunde 
 ■was warned from all (juarters. His wife wrote from the 
 court : " Every step you take will bring you nearer to de- 
 struction. If war is made upon you, it is better for you to 
 die gloriously at the head of an army than to perish in 
 shame upon a scaffold." Beza entreated him not to go. 
 Queen Jeanne begged him with tears to remain, saying, 
 "It is your saK-ation to stay here; but, if you will depart, 
 march with a force that will compel the Lorraines to respect 
 the august blood of Bourbon." 
 
 "There is no risk," argued Conde, until the proofs of 
 danger could not be denied. Then he generously declared: 
 " The staking of my life is of little moment. I must save 
 my brother from losing his kingdom; and therefore will go 
 to the national assembly, for which I have so often made 
 request." Certain of the Huguenots made splendid offers 
 of support, not aware of the plots against themselves. 
 Calvin protested against the prince's departure. It was in 
 vain. Antony was too timid to remain at home ; Cond6 
 was too brave to decline. They started for Orleans. On 
 the slow journey they were met by prominent Huguenots, 
 who entreated them to turn back ; and, when they refused, 
 these gentlemen offered large bodies of troops for their 
 defence. ^Messengers came with fresh warnings ; perhaps 
 Catherine secretly sent the word, " It will be death to 
 appear at court." Antony grew faint-hearted, but Cond^ 
 pushed forward, and with a large force of soldiers they 
 reached Orleans the last day of October. 
 
 The gates were barred and the walls guarded, as if a foe 
 were coming. As they rode through the streets to the
 
 212 ADMIRAL COI.IGNY. 
 
 castle, a double line of soldiers gazed on the Bourbon 
 princes. They demanded their right to enter the court- 
 yard on horseback, but they were compelled to alight and 
 enter through a wickct-gate. It must have reminded them 
 of their former icy reception by the court at Saint Germain. 
 .Catherine shrieked when they were led into her presence, 
 and "shed crocodile tears," says La Planche. The king 
 said to Conde, " You are accused of treason, and must 
 answer for yourself." Was not the accuser a worse traitor 
 toward him ? 
 
 "I am ready to prove my innocence," replied the prince, 
 with self-possession. He then flung back the charge of 
 treason upon his accusers. 
 
 " If you wish to be heard in your own defence, we will 
 proceed according to the forms of law," said the king, who 
 turned to his captains and ordered Conde to be arrested. 
 On his way to prison he met his brother, the Cardinal of 
 Bourbon, a courtier as weak as his shadow, and said : 
 "Very well, sir; with your fine assurances you have led 
 your brother to the scaffold !" The cardinal only answered 
 with his tears. 
 
 " Will you want your horse?" asked his page, when they 
 reached the gate. The prince replied, " I shall never want 
 him more." 
 
 The prison had been put in order weeks before; the brave 
 prince entered it, and was denied all communication with 
 his regal brother, and even his wife, except attended with 
 witnesses. His mother-in-law, Madame de Roye, was also 
 arrested at her house in Anicy, thrust into prison and her 
 papers and letters brought to court. 
 
 Andelot had retired to his estates, whence he might 
 escape to England, if danger followed him. The aged 
 Montmorency took alarm and feigned illness. But Co- 
 ligny, now at Chatillon awaiting an heir, bade farewell to
 
 TWO GREAT PARTIES. ' 213 
 
 his heroic wifo, as if he might never see liis family ajrain. 
 "Have tlie child bajjlizcd," said lie, "by the true niiiii.'^ter.s 
 of the Word." Odet joined him. They were cordially 
 received by Catherine, who wished to set them against the 
 Guises, The admiral felt that he was needed to intercede 
 for the prince. He boldly used every possible means, being 
 urgent night and day. The wife of Conde " was day and 
 night before his majesty, with abundant tears, entreating to 
 see and speak to her husband ;" but she received threats for 
 her compassions. She and her friends looked to the admiral 
 as their only defender. A commission was appointed to 
 try the prince. Its president was the father of the historian 
 De Thou. " I deny the power of the court," said Conde, 
 when brought before it. " I demand that I shall be tried 
 in full parliament, and by my peers." But the trial went 
 on. He was found guilty of treason; not in the Amboise 
 affair alone, but in his attempts to rouse the southern Hu- 
 guenots, seize the treasuries and towns, and in the name of 
 his king put on foot an army against the Guises. One of 
 his secret agents, Le Sague, had been arrested, and under 
 torture had pretended to reveal a vast conspiracy, in which 
 the Montmorencies and Chatillons had been accused of 
 having a part. The Vidame of Chartres, who had captured 
 and lost Lyons, was already in prison, from which death 
 alone would release him. Conde, however, was the only 
 one now under trial, and his condemnation was a matter 
 of course. The sentence was signed by all the judges 
 except one. Let him be known by all the world. He was 
 the Count of Sancerre, a Romanist and ti friend of the 
 Guises. But he persisted in his refusal to act unjustly. 
 The king urged him; he replied: "I will rather i)lace my 
 head beneath the axe of the executioner than bequeath to 
 my children the infamy of reading their father's name sub- 
 scribed to a capital sentence against a prince whose descend-
 
 214 ■ ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 ants may one day become tlieir king." He rose and left 
 the room. 
 
 " He is in his dotage," said the Cardinal of Lorraine to 
 the king. " He forsakes his place ; ignore him." The 
 king declared that the sentence was fixed ; on the tenth of 
 December he should be executed. It was the very day for 
 the assembly to open. 
 
 " Patience ; all will be well," we hear the chancellor say- 
 ing to the admiral, adding that his name must go upon the 
 paper of sentence. He delayed to sign it, giving as an 
 excuse that " he was not very well." 
 
 The prince was cheerful and courageous. A priest was 
 sent to his prison to perform mass. " I have come to 
 Orleans for very different purposes," said Conde, and dis- 
 missed him. The Duke of Guise was visited by his mother- 
 in-law, the Duchess Renee, a Protestant whom he cared not 
 to see just then. She sharply reproved him for his part in 
 the horrible business, and declared that if she had come 
 before the prince was seized she would have prevented it. 
 She was the grand aunt of the king. " I warn you," she 
 said to Guise, " to desist henceforth from offering violence 
 to princes of the royal stock, for such Avounds will bleed 
 long, and it will never end well with those who begin such 
 assaults." * 
 
 And yet a bolder plot was ripening. Antony could not 
 be reached by law ; he must be assassinated. His ears were 
 filled with rumours. He was in horror, now of poison at a 
 feast, now of being shot at the chase, again of being stabbed 
 at court. It is said that the king had been furnished with 
 a dagger, and on some visit he was to murder him. Antony 
 heard of it, and, for once in his life, danger seemed to fill 
 him with courage. He was invited to meet the king. He 
 then said to his captain : " I am going where my death has 
 * Perau, Vies de Cond^, de Coligny.
 
 TWO GllEAT TARTIES. 215 
 
 been sworn. If I perisli, take the coat I now wear and .sond 
 it to my wife ; since my son* is not old enough to take 
 vengeance for my death, let her send it to the Christian 
 })rinces, who will avenge mc." He then entered the royal 
 chamber, and the Cardinal of Lorraine .shut the door behind 
 him. The king made some insulting remark, but from fear 
 or pity gave no signal for the desperate deed. Antony re- 
 turned unhurt. It is reported that the Duke of Guise, 
 hidden behind the door, saw him go forth alive and ex- 
 claimed of his king, "O the greatest coward that ever 
 lived ! "What a prince we have !" f 
 
 Poor Francis, the life worried out of him, was hardly a 
 king. The acts of his reign were scarcely his own. He 
 was the tool of Catherine when he wrote to the Bishop of 
 Limoges, "The Church will never enjoy peace unless a 
 general council be held. The council of Trent is doing 
 nothing for the Protestants, and we ought to try every 
 means to bring them into a conference with our bishops. 
 No matter what the pope threatens, let us have a council." 
 Even Lorraine seemed to give way : " Prayers should be 
 allowed in French and the Psalms sung in church." The 
 warrior, Gaspard Tavannes, in a wondrous fit of common 
 sense, wrote in the same drift : " No mass in French — no 
 change in ceremonies, but yet I confess that the people 
 would be much more stirred up to devotion if they heard 
 in their own tongue the chants of the priests and the 
 Psalms sung in the churches." 
 
 But Francis was a tool in the hands of the Duke of 
 Guise when he ordered Tavannes to raise troops in Dau- 
 phiny and " cut the rebels in pieces." The Reformed had 
 obeyed the edicts so far as to meet no more secretly in barns 
 and woods, but they had put on a bolder face and held 
 
 * The fiitiiie Henry IV. 
 
 f L'KtoiK', Mc'iii. i>uur I'llist.
 
 216 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 their meetings openly. " There is nothing I desire more," 
 the king was made to say, "than to have you cliastise them 
 without mercy. Tear them up by the roots, so that no 
 fresh ones may arise." Still later, the order to Barthe was, 
 "Catch the ministers and punish them soundly. Hang 
 them without trial. If any people dare meet for worship, 
 fall on them with the sword. I beg of you, cousin, sweeji 
 the country clear of such rabble as disturb the world." 
 Perhaps the letters were not really sent, but they show the 
 cruel designs. At Nismes the persecution was so furious 
 that Marshal Villars reported, " The heresy extends every 
 day. I have more prisoners than I can put to death." 
 
 But the wavering cannot evade death. On the life of no 
 other man in France was so much, just then, dependent, as 
 on that of the feeble king. One morning he was starting 
 for a chase in the forests, when a sharp pain ran through 
 his ear, like the fatal lance that pierced his father's head. 
 Ambrose Pare gave him up as hopeless. His room was 
 beset with those who had some presage of their doom if 
 they could not wring from him the word they wanted. 
 " Have Conde executed at once," was the demand of the 
 Guises. Catherine refused, by Coligny's urgency. She 
 never wished to do anything in a crisis. All parties were 
 rapidly changing their programme. Antony of Navarre 
 was suddenly popular. His gray beard and portly form 
 were more attractive than his rich ear-rings and effeminate 
 trappery, Catherine took him into favour, and bargained 
 with him for the regency over the next child-king. The 
 gasping Francis breathed the appointment — a new policy 
 came into being. 
 
 It was the fifth of December, five days before the time 
 intended for Conde's death. The agonies of the king were 
 ending. At his bedside stood Coligny, who watched the 
 royal lips grow rigid, and then turned to the courtiers,
 
 TWO GREAT PARTIES. 217 
 
 amonj^ whom Guise was standinir, and said; "Gentlemen, 
 the king is dead; let tiiat teach us how to live." (Sublime 
 words ! 
 
 When he could he spared, Coligny retired to his room. 
 In deep thought he sat before the fire, his toothpick in his 
 mouth as usual, and his t'cet (juite on the embers. He could 
 see some good changes coming. One of his suite noticed 
 liis abstraction and caught him by the arm, saying, "Sir, 
 you have been in a brown study long enough ; your boots 
 are on fire." He replied, "Ah, Fontaine, only a week ago 
 you and I would have thought ourselves well ort' with the 
 loss of a leg each, and now we have lost only a pair of 
 boots. It is a good exchange." 
 
 It is said that Catherine showed only a formal regret, 
 and sent her son to his tomb with the scantiest honours. 
 It was not malice that prompted the better Huguenots and 
 Reformers to regard the king's death as a marvellous de- 
 liverance for them and divine judgment upon their perse- 
 cutors. At one period of his reign Calvin wrote to " the 
 brethren of France," saying, " While you sec the poor flock 
 of Christ scattered by wolves, resort to him, praying him 
 to strengthen you, and to change them into hurndess landjs. 
 You will not get strength by murniuring and gnashing your 
 teeth against the tyrants, as some do who seek not the refuge 
 to which persecution ought to drive us. The Lord is a 
 good protector."* The next year he wrote, " When nearly 
 all men were paralyzed by the torrent of fury let loose upon 
 FVance, lo ! all of a sudden, (iod revealed his arm. The 
 death of the young king must change everything. . . . Did 
 you ever read or hear of anything more opportune ? The 
 evils had reached such a pitch that there was no remedy, 
 when God, who pierced the eye of the father, struck the car 
 of the son. . . . One can hardly believe how some people 
 * Letter of November, 1559. 
 Vol. I.— 19
 
 218 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 exult. They wish to transform the whole world in an in- 
 stant, and, because I do not countenance their folly, they 
 charge me with supineness." * 
 
 Beza says: " The sword was at our throats when the Lord 
 rose up and carried off that miserable boy by a death as 
 foul as it Was unforeseen. No honours were paid his corpse, 
 and the enemy of the Lutherans was buried like a Lutheran." 
 
 The Prince of Conde was amusing himself with a game 
 when the word came to him that the king was dead. With- 
 out a change of countenance he finished it. Soon his bro- 
 ther was made lieutenant-general in place of the Duke of 
 Guise; Chai'les IX.. was king, Catherine was regent, Mont- 
 morency and Coligny were in high favour, and better days 
 seemed to have come. The prison door was open, and 
 Conde was told to go free. " I cannot go and leave my 
 honour here," he said. " What is liberty without an ac- 
 knowledgment of my innocence?" But Montmorency ad- 
 vised him to take what he could get. The prince was soon 
 mounted upon his horse, riding into Picardy as its governor. 
 
 What a change ! On one December day Conde is within 
 a step of a scaffold, and the Calviuists are raai-ked for the 
 massacre ; in the night death comes and strikes the key- 
 stone from the ai*ch which supports the power of the Guises; 
 the next, Conde and his brother of Navarre are within a 
 step of the throne, the three Colignys are taken into royal 
 favour, the Huguenots may be relieved of burdens and 
 groans, the aged iSIontmorency may walk more stately than 
 ever at Chantilly, and the chancellor more boldly propose 
 gentle measures at the council-board. 
 
 And the Guises must retire and wait for yeai*s to renew 
 their dream of conquestf The duke wrathily sees the va- 
 
 * Letters to Sulcer and Sturm, Dec. 11 and 16, 1560. The amount 
 of French history in the fourth volume of Letters is remarkable, 
 f "Althongli the policy of the Guisean faction was, for the moment,
 
 TWO GrvEAT PARTIES. 219 
 
 cillating Antony Bourbon made lieutenant-general ; the 
 grandjuastership reverts to IMontniorency. France seems 
 to be under a strange spell of " Huguenoterie." The car- 
 dinal's trap has failed; rather has he fallen into his own 
 net — the just fate of the wicked. It was set especially for 
 Cond6 and Coligny, and now they are more free than ever 
 before. It was hard but righteous. Catherine well knew 
 the cardinal's scheme was a wicked one, for she had helped 
 to form it. But she could relieve herself from the toils of 
 the net by a sacrifice of the chief inventor. Pie saw his 
 power blasted. "In chagrin," says Brantome, "he quitted 
 the court through pure poltroonery;" and great was his 
 mortification as he rode out of the town to hear the people 
 crying in the streets, from the shops and windows, "Adieu, 
 M. le Cardinal ; tlie mass is broken." 
 
 The duke and cardinal retired, and, to soothe their dis- 
 grace, tliey attended Mary of Scots to her native land, 
 there to try their arts against Knox and the Protestant 
 nobles of Scotland. As ]\[ary sailed away, she sat on a 
 couch, straining her eyes till the shores faded from her 
 sight, and exclaimed, 
 
 "Farewell, farewell, beloved France! 
 I ne'er shall see thee more !" 
 
 The facts of history greatly lessen the sympathy for this 
 
 watchful and pacific, their motive was merely to gain time. Their 
 main purpose continued the same as before — the destruction of the 
 party of the Reformation in Europe. To put down the Huguenots 
 in France, to encourage the Romanists in England and Scotland, to 
 BOW dissension amongst the Protestant princes of Germany, to support 
 the council of Trent now pitting, and, in a word, to concentrate the 
 whole strength of France, Spain, Italy and the Empire against that 
 great moral and religious revolution liy whicli liglit and truth were 
 struggling to free themselves from the trammels of long-established 
 erroi-s, was the chief object to which they directed their eflbrlfl." — 
 Tyder, History of Scotland, vi. 197.
 
 220 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 powerful ([uecn, by nullifying the romance thrown around 
 her eventful life. Coukl she have been free from the ruin- 
 ous craft of her uncles, she might have risen as the star of 
 the North, guiding her native land out of the troubles for 
 which P^ngland was greatly responsible. Even in the 
 severe school of French intrigue she had learned the one 
 principle for which such men as Coligny beset the throne — 
 that of allowing a people to choose and exercise the form 
 of religion which they most approved. True, she did not 
 sanction it". Nor was she free to reason upon its justice. 
 With a motley company of French, Italian and Scottish 
 attendants whispering in her ears all about mass-books, 
 Papal bulls and Protestant covenants, her mind was con- 
 fused by the Babel of tongues : her eyes were dimmed by 
 the mists of policy, as thick as the fogs amid wdiich she 
 landed at Leith. Nor could her wily uncle clear her vision. 
 Romanism had something more to do in reclaiming Scot- 
 land than to set up the Papal cross on the shore and the 
 inquisition in the capital. Even the cardinal had too much 
 to face, and left the slow work to other hands. When 
 Mary was met by those earnest, unyielding Scotsmen — the 
 warlike Borderer, the rugged Highlander, the courtier less 
 polite and plastic than she had left in Paris — she saw a 
 force of Protestantism even more resistless than that of 
 Chandieu and Coligny. To flatter or deceive it was impos- 
 sible ;* brave it down she could not; submit she must. 
 
 * "If tliere be not in lier n proud mind, a crafty wit, and an in- 
 durate heart against God and his truth, my judgment faileth me." 
 Thus said Knox soon after his first conversation with the queen. He 
 gained liis point for a time, because ( as Kandolpli expressed his opin- 
 ion of liim) "The voice of that one man is able to put more life in 
 lis in one hour than five hundred trumpets blustering in our ears." 
 With all Mr. P'roude's aversion to Calvinism, he gives to Knox the 
 credit of doing more for Scotland and England than any other man 
 of his age.
 
 TWO GREAT PAIITIKS. 221 
 
 She Imd a splendid opportunity to illustrate the working of 
 the principles of true liberty. She promised well under 
 Knox and Murray. She >vas then tolerant, giving free 
 worship to the Protestants, and reserving for herself the 
 little royal chapel with its mass and breviary, its priest and 
 pictures. Some of them were not wise; she grew bewildered 
 and played the fool, through the advice of her uncles. 
 Hers was a sa<l doom. It might have been averted had 
 she taken as her key-note those words of Knox, in which 
 he condensed the volume of Protestant principles : "Con- 
 science requires knowledge, and of right knowledge I fear 
 you have but little." Here we leave the niece of the Lor- 
 raines, whose hapjiiest day was ended when she ceased to be 
 queen of France. 
 19 «
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 A cohghess a\d a colloqut. 
 
 (IGOO— 15G1.) 
 
 THE Guises had not retired befoi'e they saw Admiral 
 Coligny brought into prominence at the court. That 
 wary diplomatist, the English Throgmorton, was present to 
 see if Calais might not be recovered and Elizabeth put at 
 the head of the Protestant Avorld. He believed in the 
 freedom of the pen, and thus wrote : 
 
 " The house of Guise presently does seem here to bear 
 small rule. The countenance and hope they have is of t]ie 
 King of Spain who, for religion and other respects, it is 
 thought, will help to stay their credit as much as he may. 
 
 " The principal managing of affairs doth seem to be 
 chiefly in the hands of the queen-mother, the King of 
 Navarre and the constable [Montmorency now returned] ; 
 and as the King of Spain will earnestly travail to suppress 
 religion, so is it most safe for her majesty [Elizabeth] and 
 her best policy to be as diligent to advance it. . . . The 
 true religion is very like to take place in France, and so, 
 consequently, throughout all Europe where Christianity is 
 received. 
 
 "I did, of late, address myself to the admiral, who, for 
 his virtue and wisdom, is much esteemed. I do find by 
 him that if the queen's majesty will put an earnest mind 
 and hand to this matter, it will be here well accepted and 
 will work very good effect. AVe talked of many particu- 
 lars. He thinks that the general council [of all Protest- 
 
 222
 
 A CONGRESS AND A fOLLOQUV. 223 
 
 auta] cannot take place, but that tlie King [of Fiance] 
 must assemble a national council, whereunto, if her majesty 
 would send some learned men, he does not doubt but all 
 shall be well." 
 
 Coligny had then in his mind "a national council" upon 
 religious subjects. For this he pleaded with Catherine, 
 and wrote letters far and near. To secure it was the work 
 of months ; we shall see the result at Poissy. At the same 
 time there were preparations to be made for the assembly 
 of the States-general, just at hand. He wii^hed to see it a 
 congress of the wisest men to settle the affairs of a groan- 
 ing nation. 
 
 When the news of the king's death was reported through 
 the provinces the deputies crowded to Orleans, for the Ro- 
 manists wished to make sure of Catherine, and the Protest- 
 ants must make the most of their ojjportunity. Coligny must 
 be sustained, and Navarre kept from wavering, leaning too 
 far over and falling by the intoxication of new power. At 
 the opening of the congress we have another long speech 
 from the good chancellor, full of " ideas sage and strong." 
 Peace to all storms in State and Church was his theme. 
 He was not afraid to say that " the death of the late king 
 had excited no new seditions, but had (piii'ted those which 
 had before existed." The debates were not so lively as at 
 Fontainebleau. " The orators cited continually the ancients, 
 without knowing how to imitate them."* 
 
 The orator for the clergy was Jean Quintin, who ran into 
 classical illustrations, made himself ridiculous to his breth- 
 ren and waked up Coligny. He told how one Guiras 
 begged the Emperor Arcadius to allow the Arians the use 
 of a church in Constantinople for their services. The re- 
 quest of the heretic was refused; he deserved it lor his im- 
 pertinence. As he got nothing, he sought revenge, threw 
 * Laoratelle.
 
 224 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 off the mask, showed liimself a vehel and miserably per- 
 ished. All understood that he meant to portray Coligny 
 with his petitions at the former assembly. He said, " If 
 any man digs up buried heresies or revives a condemned 
 sect, and then begs for churches and for liberty in the king- 
 dom" (here all eyes turned upon Coligny), "we ask that 
 he be declared a heretic and punished." The Huguenot 
 nobles demanded a retraction. Coligny requested it from 
 Catherine. The orator made an apology, but he was so 
 overwhelmed by satires, songs and lampoons that he soon 
 after died of chagrin. The admiral did not cease to press 
 the cause of the Huguenots ; he aided a deputation of their 
 ministers in addressing the king, and waited his hour for 
 presenting again the Norman petitions, which had pre- 
 viously made such a sensation. 
 
 A great idea was coming to light — that of religious tolera- 
 tion. Its advance was slow. Even the chancellor said at 
 Orleans, " It is foolish to look for peace between persons of 
 different creeds. The maxim is, One liiith, one law, one 
 king. Therefore let there be a national council to reform 
 abuses. If the pope do not call it, the king will." He op- 
 posed all severe measures : " The sword avails little against 
 reason ; gentleness will convert more people than violence." 
 
 During the winter there were several meetings of the na- 
 tional assembly, when bold men expressed their timely 
 views. " Let there be no force in religious matters," said 
 the abbot of Aubry. " The conscience will allow nothing 
 to command it but reason ; therefore the attempt to deny 
 reason to those of the pretended Reformed religion can pro- 
 duce nothing but evil. It would only be driving them into 
 atheism — a result abhorrent to us all. The remedy is in a 
 council ; not in the sword and gibbet. What have the nine 
 severe edicts gained ? Nothing ; the so-called Reform grows 
 by fire."
 
 A CONGRESS AND A COLLUCiUY. 225 
 
 It was not until August, 1561, that tlie chancellor took 
 the broad ground of toleration. At I'ontoi.se he said to the 
 estates, " I do not understand those Avho insist upon banish- 
 ing the new religion from the kingdom. Our only concern 
 is to know whether the state will gain more by prohibiting 
 than by permitting the Calvinist meetings. We need not 
 ask what their doctrines are, for even if they are bad, is 
 that a reason for proscribing these people?" Another 
 orator took up the theme : " Both parties found their re- 
 ligion on Scripture ; then let them not hate and persecute 
 each other. Severe edicts will kindle a fire which no power 
 under heaven can extinguish." A bold measure was pro- 
 posed to fill the treasury : " If the king wants money, let 
 him do as they have done in England and Germany — take 
 what enriches and corrupts the Church." This proposal 
 called forth such a storm of debate that the Protestants 
 were quite forgotten. 
 
 Coligny saw tokens of promise that the government was 
 henceforth to be merciful and tolerant. He hoped that 
 there might be no evil in what Catherine often quoted from 
 the prophet: " AVoe to thee, O land, when thy king is a 
 child!" True Charles IX. was a very unwise child, but 
 his mother seemed to be endowed with a liberal spirit. It 
 was not yet clear to the mind of the honest admiral that 
 she had adopted the rule of Louis XL: " He who knows 
 not how to feign, knows not how to reign." She under- 
 stood both these arts. It was for her father that Machiavel 
 had written his " Prince," and she studied the book as if it 
 contained the maxims of her Sohnnon. 
 
 AVhat was Coligny 's delight when the chancellor laid 
 down another of his great stopping-stones to liberty ! An 
 order was (piietly sent, 7th January, loGl, to the parliament 
 of Paris, commanding the release of all prisoners confined 
 on account of their religion. It was advised that the order
 
 226 ADMIKAL COLIGNY. 
 
 be kept secret, " for fear of exciting scandal !" Parliament 
 was angry. The spirit of the slain Dii Bourg seemed to 
 rise in their hall. But at the end of the month the order 
 was made public and sent throughout the provinces. This 
 is to be remarked as the first public act of legislation 
 favourable to the Protestants. Another soon followed. 
 Under pain of death it was forbidden all parties to revile 
 each other. One must not call the other Papists ; these 
 must not call their neighbours Huguenots. It was forbid- 
 den all spies to visit houses to ferret out the secret wor- 
 shippers of God, or disturb quiet meetings, or to turn 
 informers for a reward against the innocent. Goods, 
 houses and lands were to be restored to those who had 
 suffered by confiscation ;* and, lastly, those banished for 
 their faith should be allowed to return to their homes ; but, 
 said the parliament of the latter class, " provided they live 
 externally as Catholics." 
 
 " That means," we hear the chancellor say to Coligny, 
 whose house was set in Reformed order, " that you do not 
 take special pains to show yourselves Protestants. Shut 
 your doors and worship as you choose." 
 
 If Coligny might have his psalm-singing and preaching, 
 even at court, why might not others have the like in their 
 homes ? The Reformed were not slow to take every inch 
 of privilege. " They discovered themselves frankly about 
 religion," says Castelnau; "they met in houses, where they 
 baptized, celebrated the Lord's Supper and marriages, and 
 offered prayers after the manner of Geneva — very different 
 
 * Tlie edict was ordered to be read in the churches. At Provlns a 
 friar introduced it thus : "My dear Christian brethren, I am instructed 
 to read an edict ordering the cats and mice to live in peace togetlier; 
 that is to say, tliat heretics and Catholics should do the same, for such 
 is the king's pleasure. I am sorry for it, and am grieved to see the 
 new reign begin so unpromisingly." — Quoted in White.
 
 A CONGRESS AND A COLLOQl'Y. 227 
 
 from those of Aufrsburg, which many thought better to 
 admit into France, if there was need of either, rather than 
 to allow the entrance of the sect of Calvin. Soon the 
 assemblies became so large that private houses could not 
 contain them. . . . The ministers were mosth' ignorant, 
 knowing little beyond the prayers and catechisms printed 
 at Geneva. The most learned and clever had been banished 
 or executed .'" 
 
 " It is incredible," said Calvin, " with what fervent zeal 
 our brethren are urging forward greater progress. Pastors 
 arc everywhere asked for from among us. Those who are 
 in quest of them besiege my doors and pay court to me as 
 if I held a levee. They vie with one another in pious 
 rivalry, as if there was the utmost peace in Christ's king- 
 dom. We desire to comply with their wishes as far as is 
 possible, but our stock of preachers is exhausted. We have 
 even been obliged to sweep the workshops of the working- 
 classes, to find persons with some tincture of learning and 
 sound doctrine to supply the urgent need."* But there 
 were eloquent tinkers before the days of Bunyan. 
 
 Was Coligny deceived by the gentleness of Catherine? 
 Was he again ready to address her as the Esther of the 
 Protestants? "Because she hearkened so freely to the 
 admiral and others who spoke of abuses which crept into 
 the Church, some did not scruple to say that Madame 
 Crussol or the Duchess of Savoy had given her majesty a 
 tincture of the Reformed religion."! 
 
 She favoured Jean Montluc, and gave him the pulpit of 
 the palace at Fontainebleau, in which town he had so elo- 
 quently defended the Norman petitions less than one year 
 before. Poor Jacobin monk in the cathedral had to preach 
 his Lent sermons to sadly thin audiences. On this proceed- 
 
 * Calvin to Bullincrer, 24th May, ] "H)!, el puKnim. 
 
 f M^moires de Castelnaii ; Maimbourg, Histoire dii Calvinisme.
 
 228 ADMIEAL COLIGNY. 
 
 ing hear the Jesuit Maimbourg : " It seems to me," he 
 wrote in his History of Calvinism, " that, on the most 
 favourable construction, it may be fearlessly said that all 
 she did on this occasion was but a pretence. She did ill to 
 feign so well as to give ground to believe that she belonged 
 to the new sect. For she not only allowed the ministers to 
 preach in the apartments of the prince (Charles ?), where 
 all the world crowded to hear them, whilst a poor Jacobin, 
 who preached the Lent sei'mons, was deserted, but she went 
 so far as to take part herself, with all her ladies, at the ser- 
 mons of the Bishop of Valence [Montluc], who preached* 
 openly, in one of the rooms of the chateau, the new dogmas 
 he had drawn from the heresies of Luther and Calvin. So 
 sudden and so strange a change took place at court that 
 •one would have said she was quite a Calvinist. Although 
 it was Lent, meat was sold publicly and spread upon every 
 table. They talked no more of attending mass, and the 
 young king, who was still taken there to keep up appear- 
 ances, went almost alone (to mass). They scoffed at the 
 authority of the popas, at the worship of the saints and of 
 images, at indulgences, and at the ceremonies of the Church, 
 which they treated as supei"stitions."f 
 
 If the Jesuit was right in saying that Catherine went to 
 the sermons as a feint, he might have said that it was also 
 a feint, on her part, when she went to mass. Her " Italian 
 religion" was no religion at all ; it was simply a policy to 
 
 * And with his hat on liis head, "after (lie manner of Geneva." 
 f Why does not Maimbourg tell us of the friar who, on Palm Sun- 
 day, took for his text these words from the Vulgate : Itc in CnsteUum 
 quod contra vos est (Go into the village over against you, etc.; Matt, 
 xxi. 2) ; and, by playing on the word castellum, he so applied it as to 
 mean. Go against the house of Chatillon, the enemy of the Church. 
 The name of this house meant castle. The hearers understood it, 
 "but that fellow was rlapt in prison for his pains," says Laval. This 
 was much to tlie credit of the Romanists or the chancellor.
 
 A CUNGKI-:.SS AND A COJ.LOQUY. 229 
 
 please all whom she could deceive, and to divide all parties, 
 who saw through her disguises. " Instead of serving God, 
 she turned God to her service." She listened to Coligny, 
 Montmorency and Navarre when they urged her to wrest 
 from the Guises their offices and honours. The duke was 
 humbled for a time. He and St. Andre were compelled to 
 refund certain ill-gotten gains, the spoils of their rapacity. 
 She then listened to St. Andre, who saw a method of break- 
 ing down Coligny and his party, and propo.sed to reconcile 
 the veteran Montmorency and the Duke of Guise. The 
 matter was difficult, even for the court ladies. Something 
 stronger than silk must form the ties ; it was found in 
 religion. 
 
 "Are these heretics to have all the favoui-s-?" said the 
 wife of the constable, who had a genuine Savoy hatred of 
 the Protestants in her veins. " I detest these Coligny 
 brothers — " 
 
 "What, what!" muttered the old unoJe, "hate my 
 nephews ?" 
 
 " Their religion, I mean." But her aversion had still 
 another motive, and she skilfully touched other chords. 
 " You have been too partial to your nephews. You have 
 not allowed my brothers of Savoy a" share in the honours 
 and offices of state." 
 
 " There's no blood of the first Christian baron in their 
 veins," thought Montmorency, still eager to save his 
 nephews from disgraces which he well kncAV were bitter in 
 the extreme. He hesitated. The new arrangement did 
 not suit his temper. He detested the Guises. He courted 
 Cond6. He hoped to make good use of Navarre. He 
 spoke "very lively" to the queen-mother against the whole 
 tribe of Lorraines. Why need she bring them back to the 
 court? 
 
 " It is very necessiiry," replied Catherine. " But you can 
 
 Vol. I.— 20
 
 2o0 ADMJllAL COJ-IU.NV. 
 
 still be griuid-niaster ; it is your right." The strong will 
 began to bend. "The ancient religion is at stake," said 
 the ladies and St. Andre, their immoral ally in temptation. 
 The new league was for the sake of religion! "Your 
 nephews are serving the heretics. Your ancient house is 
 thus dishonoured." The old baron's pride was touched. 
 For his religion he must strike hands with the Guises, and 
 ruin the Chatillons.* 
 
 Coligny begged his uncle to retain his lofty place as an 
 umpire between all parties, act with De I'Hopital in securing 
 peace, and not become a partisan with men who had proved 
 themselves the enemies of France. Young Montmorency 
 added his pleas to those of his cousin the admiral. But all 
 was in vain. 
 
 On Easter-day a grand mass was celebrated. Whispers 
 of a strange reconciliation had drawn many to the church. 
 The gray-headed Montmorency knelt at the altar. The 
 fiery Duke of Guise came and knelt at his side. They 
 took the wafer together. Xo doubt the Marshal St. Andre 
 completed the trio. In their hearts they pledged a faith 
 to each other, and to Romanism, which was yet to prove 
 almost the doom of Protestantism in France. They went 
 from the altar to a feast provided by the constable. To 
 this part of the loving engagement full justice was done by 
 St. Andre, w horn Brantome calls " a true Lucullus," and 
 the Protestant Laval describes as "a man altogether sur- 
 rendered to gluttony and its consequent vices." This union 
 was to strengthen until it would receive the name of The 
 Triumvirate. It was to be the head of the Romish party in 
 France. Behind it was the Cardinal of Lorraine, with the 
 mass of the clergy. Above it was the pope and Philip of 
 Spain. Beneath it were the people, especially of the north 
 and the west. Before it the King of Navarre will bow and 
 * D'Auvigny, Vie de Montmorency; Peraii, Vie de Coligny.
 
 A CONGRESS AND A COLLOQUY. 231 
 
 betray every trust committed to hira by the Protestants. 
 Out of it are to grow tyranny over the State and persecu- 
 tions upon the true Church. 
 
 They began their work. Coligny saw his dignified uncle 
 disphvy the most cliiklish spirit of rage. The proud de- 
 scendant of " the first Christian baron" was one day per- 
 suaded to attend the " queen's preachings" in the jialace, 
 and listen to the eloquent bishop of Valence, who " preached 
 in a short cloak and a cap, after the fashion of the ministers." 
 Hearing and seeing wliat he hated, he burst forth into an 
 ungovernable fury, and disturbed the preacher by his inso- 
 lence. Indeed, the good bishop's life was quite in danger. 
 At another time he was crossing the hall, when he found a 
 large assembly attent upon the like discourses. In a tem- 
 pest of wrath he cried out, " Fling that fellow out of the 
 window ! " The bishop narrowly escaped.* 
 
 The nephews of Montmorency were giving him trouble. 
 In his new zeal he quite forgot the former gentleness toward 
 them, and yet he dare not strike. Besides the preaching 
 supported by the two younger brothei-s, Cardinal Odet was 
 filling Beauvais with the new doctrines. As he was a 
 bisliop, why sliould he not follow the good old gospel way, 
 and tell the people how to be happiest on earth and how 
 to get to heaven at last? On an Easter-day he went into 
 his cathedral and surprised the people by having no mass. 
 Had he forgotten it? He surprised some of them still more 
 by inviting the faithful to his house, and there celebrating 
 the Lord's Supper "after the fashion of Geneva." This 
 was not to be endured by the Romanists. They rose, went 
 howling for vengeance around his walls, and created such 
 a disturbance that there was soon no lack of a crowd. Some 
 young wool-carders having a holiday, and roaming through 
 streets, thought to make the best of their chance, and began 
 * D'Artipny, Vie <le Montmorenci.
 
 232 AD>[inAL (-(JLIGNY. 
 
 to break into tlie houses and get the spoils. An elder of 
 the church, and a teacher of the children was seized torn 
 from his home, beaten and murdered. His body was car- 
 ried to the burning-place, tied to the stake, and an officer 
 applied the fire to the fagots amid the shouts of the mob. 
 Some ran to the bishop's palace, calling for him to show him- 
 self. They saw him come to the window. There he stood 
 in his cardinal's hat and robes, and they judged him by the 
 dress he wore ; so they were content, and each left for his 
 own home. Odet, being a cardinal, was not in danger of the 
 charge of having caused a riot. The rioters, being " good 
 Catholics," were quite safe from prosecution. Yet the aftair 
 was reported to his uncle as a revolt. Young Marshal 
 Montmorency was sent to quell the disturbance. Very 
 likely he had a special care to have a private word with his 
 cousin, with whose opinions he was quite in sympathy. Two 
 men were punished.* 
 
 " In twenty cities, or thereabouts, the godly have been 
 massacred by the infuriated mob. Respecting these butch- 
 eries no investigation has been instituted, except at Beau- 
 vais. At Paris, when the populace attacked the house of a 
 courageous nobleman, and he, by the aid of his friends, re- 
 pelled the furious assault, twelve persons were killed and 
 forty wounded. A decree was immediately passed that he 
 should compear, and if he did not constitute himself pris- 
 oner before the expiration of three market-days, he should 
 be condemned by default. Kow, certainly, if ever, it is the 
 time to implore God that he would be mindful of his unfor- 
 tunate flock." Thus wrote Calvin, who had constantly re- 
 ports from all France. He heard of the rapid growth of 
 churches in Provence — sixty of them in a single year, de- 
 spite the fury shown against them. He Avrote to some of 
 them : " We are well aware that it is a plausible opinion 
 * Laval, Hist. Ref.
 
 A C<>X(iIU:sS AND A COLLOQUY. 233 
 
 that it is lawful for us to avenge ourselves on a mutinous 
 populace, as this is not resisting the order of justice; nay, 
 that the laws themselves arm us against robbers. But, what- 
 ever sophistries be thus urged, our whole duty consists in 
 practicing the lesson taught by our sovereign Master, to 
 possess our souls in patience. In truth it is best and safest 
 to hide under his shadow when exposed to such storms. 
 Now it is by this resisting evil by force of arms that we pre- 
 vent him from coming to our relief.* . . . We live in times 
 when we should labour on the one hand and suffer on the 
 other. Better a hundredfold die than flinch." 
 
 Coligny put himself in direct correspondence with Ge- 
 neva, a great ofl'once to the Triumvirate. He asked for a 
 preacher. We know not who was first sent. Calvin says : 
 "The admiral is the only one on whose fidelity we can 
 count. A colleague of ours is stirring up his zeal. This 
 colleague I sent to him, without consulting anybody, lest any 
 part of the odium should fall on our senate. He preaches 
 ])ul)licly to crowded audiences not far from the palace. All 
 t)ur adversaries keep bawling that such audacity should not 
 be tolerated. The queen entreats him, coaxingly, to desist. 
 But rather than flinch he will l)rave everything." And 
 yet Coligny had to give way somewhat, if Chautounay re- 
 ported the truth to his Spanisli master, Philip. He referred 
 to the influence of the admiral, whose chaplain preached to 
 more than three hundred persons, but still later wrote: 
 "The day after Easter Sunday the pid>]ic j)reachings in the 
 great court [open space] of F()ntaini'l)lfau, before the lodg- 
 ings of Admiral Coligny, in tlie presence of M. de Cond^, 
 have been forbidden." Chautounay had advised tluxt the 
 heretics should be punished, but Catherine replied, "It 
 is not possible ; see the great number of them. It would 
 ruin everything, and excite a civil war." D'Aubign^ says, 
 
 * Compare the various letters of Calvin during the year 1561. 
 20*
 
 234 ADMIRAL C'OLIGXY. 
 
 that she used " the language of Canaan " when conversing 
 with Protestant ministers. One account is, that she promised 
 " to liave her son, the king, instructed in their religion."* 
 
 Coligny wants yet another minister, who may be a chap- 
 lain in his own house. Calvin sends him John Raymond 
 Merlin,f a young Dauphinese of excellent abilities, and 
 afterward writes to the admiral : " Be not weary in the 
 good work. It is worth a hundred lives, if we had them. 
 I know- the difficulties which might arrest you or cause you 
 to turn bridle. You know them still better, and therefore 
 put your stay on God. Look higher than the world ; have 
 your anchor in heaven. I shrewdly suspect that the devil 
 is brewing some mischief underground to cause fresh dis- 
 orders. Yet God may do his work in some extraordinary 
 fashion. I do not approve of the ardour of some who are 
 in too great haste, but as I cannot restrain them, I shut my 
 eyes and leave all to God. . . . One word in your private 
 ear, about what I wrote you." [He refers to the proposed 
 alliance between France and the Swiss cantons, of which 
 he had already written io the admiral, saying, " I am 
 anxious to have some measure adopted in favour of this 
 poor city, that it may not be exposed to pillage" by the 
 Duke of Savoy.] "If you see the matter followed up, take 
 care that we are not forgotten. You have higher interests 
 in this town. By seeking its good you serve your king. 
 It may seem a small matter, yet what is small is not always 
 to be despised." This is proof of Coligny's influence at the 
 court. 
 
 * Discours Merveilleux de Cath. de Medici (Henry Etienne?). 
 Mem. de Condd. — Von Raumer, Orig. Doc. 
 
 f Also named M. de Monroy. "Master Jelian Merlin was sent to 
 the house of the admiral at court, wlio had written to have a person 
 in such a place." — RpgiMres de la Companie, A. D. 1561, quoted in 
 Bonnet's notes to Calvin's Letters. For the above correspondence see 
 Letters to the Admiral, 28th January-May, 1561,
 
 A COXGUIiSS AND A (•OLLOQ['Y. 235 
 
 We need not wonder if, in the excess of their joy over the 
 edict of January, the Protestants occasionally took too 
 large a liberty. Yet at this period we find very few in- 
 stances of their going into the Koniish churches, singing 
 psalms, disturbing the priests, overturning the mass-tables, 
 pulling down images, hurling out one worship and bringing 
 in another. The chief events of this sort belong to a later 
 day, when their freedom was taken from them and they 
 were exasperated by oppression. They simply came forth 
 from their retreats, and in open day, on public squares, 
 within large halls, in the parks of the nobles, on the 
 grounds around their mansions, began to assemble in crowds 
 to hear the divine word and render praise to God. It was 
 not the meeting itself, but the design of it and the charm 
 it had for the peo])le that gave offence. 
 
 Such growing boldness was a theme for the Triumvirate.* 
 They must apply the check. They worked through parlia- 
 ment the edict of Jnhj, after twenty days of argument, and 
 by a majority of only three votes. It partly reversed the 
 laws secured by the chancellor and Coligny. Houses might 
 now be searched, meetings therein broken up, larger assem- 
 blies suppressed and heretics punished according to a rule 
 as old as Cain ; but the punishment must not be severer 
 than exile. The Duke of Guise declared, after the vote 
 proved a bare victory, " To maintain this edict my sword 
 shall never be sheathed." 
 
 Even this fulmination did not provoke rebellion among 
 the Reformed. I)e Crussol reported that he found those at 
 Montpelier living in " great obedience and reverence." 
 The Papal legate St. Croix praised them with emphasis. 
 He wrote to Rome: "In Gascony and otlier places I saw 
 
 * "Tlie Canliiial of Lnria'mc (lemandod from the iiarlianiciit of 
 Paris the revocation of the edict of January." — Fronde Iluft. of 
 England, viii. 3'JO. Tliis is valiantly denied by Maimbourg.
 
 236 AI>MIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 no mutilated images, no broken crosses, no deserted churches, 
 as I had been told I should." If the haughty Gascons 
 were so quiet, we may think as well of the Protestants in 
 other parts. Still the Ti-iumvirs hurled their bolts wher- 
 ever they dared to strike. 
 
 And yet all was not undone. The great onward move- 
 ment was not checked. The ice was melting, and who could 
 stop the torrent of freer thought ? God had touched men's 
 hearts, and who could stay his hand ? France was to have 
 her religious council — not a Trent affair, at which Protest- 
 ants dare not appear, not a Westminster Assembly, to which 
 Romanists were not invited — but a free colloquy for all 
 who chose to attend. Calvinist and Jesuit, Lutheran and 
 Sorbonnist, monk and missionary, prelate and pastor, all 
 might come and take their part. It was not, it could not 
 have been a purely Protestant affair. The times forbade it. 
 A very moderate class of men secured the passage of this 
 clause in the edict of July : " The prelates of the kingdom 
 being assembled, safe-conducts shall be sent to the ministers 
 of the religion called the New, in order that they may in 
 security appear and be heard in their confession of faith ; 
 that the endeavour may be made to convince them by the 
 Avord of God, as it has been explained by the doctors of the 
 first five centuries after Christ." 
 
 Some members objected to the clause, but the Cardinal 
 of Lorraine " assured them that he would vanquish the said 
 ministers by argument, and require no other arms." 
 
 Hence the colloquy of Poissy. It certainly did not orig- 
 inate in a challenge by the Cardinal of Lorraine to the 
 Protestants. Nor did " Theodore Beza snatch eagerly at 
 the gage," thus making the challenge a fact. Nor is it a 
 fair statement that " had the Reformers in France made 
 a moderate u.«e of the opportunity which the death of 
 Francis created for them, they might have won the confi-
 
 A CONGRESS AM) A COLLOQUY. 237 
 
 deuce of the great national party." The " moderate 
 use" was evidently made by them in the steps to this con- 
 ference. 
 
 It is easy to deride tlie doctrines wliich conscientious men 
 draw from Scri[)ture, and to re])resent true zeal as fanati- 
 cism. It was so in the apostolic days. But there are times 
 when the missionary needs the earnest courage of the war- 
 rior. It was so in the days when Peter and his brethren 
 rei)lied to the Sanhedrim, " We ought to obey God rather 
 than men." There are times when the Lord " sends a fire 
 on the earth," and when men whom he approves are charged 
 with too great earnestness, and even with a revolutionary 
 si)irit. It was so when the cry was raised by certain people 
 who took needless alarm at the advance of the apostles, and 
 said, " These, who have turned the world upside down, are 
 come hither also." There are times when wise men need to 
 be cautious of their rebukes upon a sound faith and a mar- 
 tyr's zeal. It was so when Ganuiliel gave the warning, 
 " Lest ha})ly ye be found even to light against God ;" and 
 when such men as De I'Hopital thought it just to give the 
 Galvinists a little space, lie kni-w that a few abuses did 
 not prove a new creed to be " exclusive," nor a new zeal to 
 be productive of anarchy. 
 
 There was not in the Reformers of France all the toler- 
 ance which a modern historian would be jileased to find. It 
 was nowhere found in that age as it now exists. Yet these 
 French ministers did not claim to have exclusive possession 
 of the truth, nor come to Poissy to force "Calvinism" ujion 
 France. The facts prove a compromising spirit. There 
 was a spirit of resistance abroad — occasionally one of vio- 
 lence — but these ministers had not kindled the flame. The 
 facts show that it was not fanned by the cooling breezes 
 from snow-girt Geneva; that Calvin Inisily denounced all 
 violent acts, and more especially the taking up of the
 
 238 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 sword ;* that Coligny and the religious Huguenots had not yet 
 taken it ; that the political malcontents of both religions first 
 girded it at their sides ; that Conde was mainly responsible 
 for such attacks as that upon Lyons ; and that it was any- 
 thing but a Calvinistic propagandism which led to the 
 league of the Triumvirate. It was rather the propagandism 
 of Rome. It was crafty policy, selfishness, ambition to rule. 
 The pressure which provoked was that of Rome. It drove 
 the Protestants, in some cases, to an extreme. Human 
 tempers will not always bear fiery opposition ; strike the 
 cap on the musket and the powder flashes, the ball flies, 
 and there may be a death in the crowd which sought to test 
 the aimless weapon. If " the Huguenot congregations at- 
 tended sermons with steel cuirass and hand on sword-hilt," 
 it was no more than their enemies were doing. Even priests 
 had worn arms in churches at Geneva ; doubtless also in 
 France. Amid the Indian wars in America gentle minis- 
 ters laid their pistols on the pulpit and then uttered the 
 gospel of peace. Yet they were not intolerant, nor urging 
 a crusade for the extermination of their tawny foes. 
 
 The colloquy of Poissy was not a Calvinistic device. It 
 was not called in the special interest of Calvinism. It was 
 not the work of Beza. It was the scheme of such men as 
 De I'Hopital, the Bishop of Valence and Admiral Coligny. 
 " The queen-mother and the chancellor greatly cherished 
 the project," says a writer, by no means a Protestant; "she 
 
 * " Certain outbreaks displease us, which it is extremely difficult to 
 moderate. In many town?, as no private building would hold the 
 multitude, they have usurped the temples. And though they are 
 everywhere preaching all over Guienne, without any public disturb- 
 ance, we should have preferred that they follow a line of conduct 
 more expedient. Nor are they dismayed by those atrocious edicts in 
 which the king commanded all the edifices in which a meeting in 
 held to be razed to the ground, and those who attend to be punished 
 as rebels." — Calvin's Letters, dxciii. 24th May, 1561.
 
 A CONGKESS AM) A COLLCKirV. 239 
 
 in the hope of iiu'rea.suig the di.s[)ute.s, iiud he iu the hope 
 of allaying them." * 
 
 And yet Calvin was invited ; ^o too was the Cardinal of 
 Lorraine. To this the Genevan lleformer doubtless refers 
 when he says : " The (jueen-niother did not hesitate to say 
 that all remedies would be useless unless I were sent for."t 
 Chandieu wrote to him saying: " It will be perilous for 
 you to come, so great is the rage of the enemies of the gos- 
 l)el. Your very name will be used to exeite trouble in the 
 l)rovinces if it be known that you are at Poissy." The 
 Genevan senate refused to let him go-X Bcza was also 
 urged to come. " Again and again we beg you to send him 
 as soon as possible," wrote Antony of Navarre to the sena- 
 tors. "All due honour, welcome and good treatment will 
 be shown him, such as his probity, learning and talents re- 
 ([uire. In this you will do the king, the queen-mother and 
 myself a very special favour." 
 
 What folly for the Romish writers § to portray a young 
 num of the world, witty, rich, tempted, erring, the author 
 of a volume of light poetry, a husband by a marriage kept 
 secret for his uncle's sake, and then write beneath the pic- 
 tui*e. This is Theodore Bcza ! True, he was such a young 
 man while a Romanist enjoying some rich benefices, made 
 over to him ])y an uncle, whom he dared not displease. But 
 he was turned from darkness to light. A serious illness 
 brought to his conscience the teachings of Melchior Wol- 
 mar at Orleans, where they read the Greek Testament to- 
 
 * Lacratclle, GueiTOH do Tvclipion. The Jesuit Maiiiibourc says: 
 " It was a sdicmc concerted lietwecn the queen, the admiral and the 
 chancellor." Iler design being, "to draw to her side the admiral and 
 his party, against the chiefs of tlic Catholic cause." 
 
 t Calvin to BuUinger, 24lh May, lotU. 
 
 X Spon, Ilisloire de Gen<?vc; Senehier ; (iaberel. 
 
 ^ Such as Mairabourg and Audin.
 
 240 ADMIKAI. COLIGNY. 
 
 gcther. To his teacher lie wrote : " As soon as I had 
 strength to raise myself, I broke all my chains, packed up 
 my travelling effects, and left my country, my kindred and 
 my friends to follow Christ. I went into voluntary exile, 
 and retired to Geneva with ray wife." He was then over 
 twenty-nine years old. On his journey he may have visited 
 his native town of Vezelay, where his ancestors held a noble 
 rank. 
 
 He had left all for his new INIaster. In his poverty he 
 resolved to be a printer, joining with him Jean Crispin, the 
 author of the " History of the Martyrs." Humble enough 
 to enter the shop, he had too much merit to remain in it. 
 He studied theology, became a professor and a preacher. 
 He drew the attention of Calvin, and their friendship be- 
 came ardent and lasting till death. Invited by the King 
 of Xavarre to Nerac,* he preached throughout his little 
 realm, and sought to educate him and the Prince of Conde 
 in the peace of the Gospel. They were then planning war, 
 and soon were cited to court. He went with them on their 
 way to Orleans as far as it was safe, and, turning aside, 
 escaped by nightly journeys to Geneva. 
 
 He was pushing forward the new academy at Geneva 
 when he was urged to appear as the champion of the 
 Protestants at Poissy. But the senate was not willing to 
 let him go, unless his safety was ensured. Calvin tells us 
 how the affair was managed : " We could not obtain a safe- 
 conduct, as they call it, because the queen-mother was un- 
 willing to expose herself to so much unpopularity with the 
 pope. The King of Navarre, however, pledged his faith 
 in a letter to our council. Privately also the king himself 
 [Navarre], his brother the Prince of Conde, and the ad- 
 
 * "The 20th .July our brother M. de Beza was sent into Gascony to 
 tlie King of Navarre, in order to instruct him in tlic word of God." — 
 Register nf Geneva, 1560 ; Baum, Theodor Beza.
 
 A CONGRESS AND A COLI.tJQUV. 241 
 
 miral earnestly urged Beza not to delay any lonj^er, because 
 ho would need to make all possible despatch, it" he wished 
 to arrive at the proper moment. They also entreated me 
 rather to push him forward than to retard him." Calvin 
 secretly rode out with him into the country, and afterward 
 wrote : " Beza has set out without a safe-conduct, and from 
 the village to which I had retired he was escorted by my 
 brother to the nearest relay of the couriers, that he might 
 jiass through less noticed by means of post-horses."* 
 
 He arrived at Saint Germain on the twenty-third of 
 August, 1561, and was received with marks of high esteem. 
 Coligny, doubtless, looked for the first time upon the man 
 whose stately bearing was equal to that of any of the 
 nobles, whose elegance of manners was a passport to the 
 court, Avhose learning was greater than that of any of the 
 Huguenots present, and whose skill in argument would not 
 suffer in a contest with the acute Cardinal of Lorraine. 
 The next morning he preached in the saloon of the Prince 
 of Conde before a large and distinguished audience,- " who 
 heard him without any tumult or scandal." After night- 
 fall he was invited to the apartments of the King of 
 Navarre. No one greeted him with more delight than the 
 heroic Queen Jeanne, who must have wished for a friendly 
 talk with him about the good John Calvin, whose letters 
 were ever welcome to her. But Beza was not brought 
 tliere to exchange words of friendship ; it was that he 
 might be measured and his powers gauged by his future 
 antagonist. Queen Catherine gave him welcome, and in- 
 quired concerning Calvin's age and habits of life. This 
 was not an agreeable subject to the Cardinal of Lorraine, 
 who was not long in saying, "I trust that you will remember 
 that you are a Frenchman, and that the gifts bestowed upon 
 you by the pleasure of God belong to your country. You 
 
 * Calvin's Letters, dciii., dciv. 
 Vol. 1.— 21
 
 242 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 have troubled the realm in your absence ; now let your 
 presence bring peace to France." 
 
 " You may be assured, sir," replied Beza, " that, next to 
 the service of my God, that of my king and my country 
 are most dear to me. I have never been important enough 
 to trouble so great a realm as France, and I am too insig- 
 nificant to restore peace to her people. But I have ever 
 sought to render her good offices ; in proof of this I refer 
 you to my past writings." 
 
 "Have you ever written anything in French?" asked the 
 queen-mother ; and he did not intend to let slip an arrow 
 by replying, " I may name my part of the version of the 
 Psalms." It could not fail to remind her how Marot's part 
 of the version had once been sung in the palace with such 
 enthusiasm. He also referred to other writings. 
 
 " There lies at this moment, on my table at Poissy," said 
 the cardinal, " a Latin tract on the Lord's Supper, attrib- 
 uted to you, in which you say we must not look for Christ 
 bodily in the elements." 
 
 " The body of our Lord is in heaven," Avas the substance 
 of the reply ; " but by the bread and wine Christ is truly 
 administered to those who receive him in faith." A long 
 and candid discussion followed. The cardinal avowed that 
 he did not press transubstantiation. It is suid that he had 
 some hope of finding Beza open to the temptations of ava- 
 rice or ambition ; and if such a man were converted or 
 silenced, it would be a victory to the cardinal and to the 
 Papal Church. At length he said, with a winning air, 
 " I am glad to see and hear you. I call upon you iu God's 
 name to confer with me, so that we may understand each 
 other. You will not find me so black as I have been 
 painted." He bowed to depart. 
 
 iMadame Crussol took him by the hand, saying, -in her 
 free manner, " You have shown yourself a good man this
 
 A coN(;ui:s.s and a colloquy. 243 
 
 evening, but what will you be to-morrow?" Then turning 
 to tlic coinpuny, .slie said, "It would be better to bring j)en 
 1111(1 paper and have the cardinal sign his admission. To- 
 morrow he may say just the contrary." And, as we are 
 told, "she guessed rightly, for the next morning it was re- 
 ported that the cardinal had silenced Beza in argument." 
 The queen corrected the story. 
 
 " To-day I preached at the adinirars, who kept me to 
 dinner," wrote lieza to Calvin on the twenty-fifth of 
 August. "After dinner dropped in the Cardinal de Chatil- 
 lon and M. de Montmorency [the marshal?], who I see 
 stands well affected to us, as, in truth, matters are now set 
 in motion with a wonderful impulse." In another of his 
 letters he tells us that the admiral had a parrot which 
 kept screaming, " Vie, vie ! la messe est abolie — Life, life ! 
 the mass is abolished. Should we speak of God every- 
 where? Let us speak of God everywhere." It is not pos- 
 sible for us to render the jingle of the rhyming words, but 
 tlie sentiment is worthy of notice as a proof of what Co- 
 ligny would teach even his bird, and have it boldly declare 
 to others. The parrot was not likely to conceal his opin- 
 ions, whatever the company. 
 
 On the ninth of September the court met in the refectory 
 of a convent at Poissy, near the palace of St. Germain. It 
 was at once seen that the Protestant deputies were to be 
 treated as inferiors and sui)pliants. They were not invited 
 to a council, for under that name only Romish prelates 
 must be summoned. Great care had been taken to call it 
 a col/uqiiy, but there was to be no familiar conversation. 
 One would have supposed, from the grand display of purple 
 robes, red hats, gold lace, feathers and jewels, that the 
 court, cardinals and clergy were met in the convent to re- 
 ceive a dinner from the nuns, and that the Protestants were 
 to be kept out until the second table. But these earnest
 
 244 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 Christian men cared little for tlie insult of not being ad- 
 mitted on the footing of equality. The child-king took hiy 
 place on a throne and recited the opening address. The 
 Chancellor de I'Hopital made so excellent a speech that it 
 gave offence to those who needed advice. "You are assem- 
 bled," said he, " to proceed to the reformation of manners 
 and doctrine. . . . The best way to arrive at an under- 
 standing is to proceed with humility, laying aside subtle 
 and curious disputes. There is no occasion for many books, 
 but to fully understand the word of God and to conform to 
 it. Do not esteem them to be enemies who are said to be 
 of the new religion, who are Christians and baptized like 
 yourselves, and do not condemn them through prejudice, 
 lieceive them as a father receives his children." 
 
 " I call for a copy of the chancellor's speech," said Car- 
 dinal de Tournon, who was not more out of temper than 
 his brethren. " A reformation in doctrine ! The word of 
 God their standard ! The Huguenots fellow-Christians ! 
 These are the absurd notions of a man who ought to have 
 the great seal taken from him." 
 
 " My remarks were made, as usual, without having been 
 written," mildly replied the chancellor, who remembered 
 Du Bourg, and foresaw the censures which must fall upon 
 himself if he took the trouble to gratify a cardinal in 
 his keen search for heresy. A wild scene followed. The 
 colloquy bade fair to become a quarrel, without the fault 
 of the Protestants, who were not yet admitted. 
 
 At length order was restored, and a signal given for the 
 captain of the guards to usher in the Reformed deputies.* 
 
 * Beza and twelve French preachers : Nicolas de Gallars, Angustin 
 Marlorat, Francis de St, Pol, .lean Malot, Francis de Morel ( Col- 
 longes), Nicolas Thobie, Claude de Boissiere, Jean Bouquin, Joseph 
 Yiret, Jean de la Tour (chaplain to Jeanne of Navarre), Jean Merlin 
 (Coligny's preacher), and Jean de I'Espine (a converted Dominican
 
 A CONGRESS AND A COLLOQUY. 245 
 
 Those men, at that hour, were doing the bravest thing in 
 Cliristcndoni. At their side was a sj)lendid escort of two- 
 and-twcnty of the first gentlemen in the realm. The thir- 
 teen ministers wore their simple black gowns and Genevan 
 bands — a sober costume in strange contrast to the gorgeous 
 robes of the prelates. But their step was that of confident 
 veterans, for if they had before them the fortified citadel 
 of Romanism, they knew that God was above them, and 
 behind tliem a great pait of the Freneli iiation. Tiiey 
 offered to enter within the railings and take seats beside the 
 Roman Catholic doctors. But they were stopped — the 
 mark of inequality must l)e put upon them. They must 
 sit in a lower place, not as equals in a colloquy, but as per- 
 sons accused at the bar. Very well ; they sought not "the 
 highest seats." 
 
 What next? Beza addressed the king in words like 
 these: "I entreat your majesty not to take it amiss if I first 
 have recourse to the Father of lights fi)r assistance in this 
 important moment of my life. The enterprise to which we 
 are called is beyond our strength." Then the noble band 
 solemnly knelt, uncovered their heads, and Beza lifted his 
 voice in prayer. lie confessed the national sins and the 
 sins of God's own people. lie toucbingly recounted the 
 past afflictions of his brethren in the lliith and their perils 
 at the present hour. He enlarged upon the hopes which 
 God gave them in their young king and bis councillors. 
 He prayed that he and his brethren might have the candour 
 to receive all truth and constancy to defend it to the last, 
 and that their discussions might bring repose to their 
 
 friar). Peter Martyr came afurwanl from Geneva. A cliarjje lironght 
 against Kiizalieth of England was: "Money was given to C'assiotiorus 
 to enable liim to be present at the conference of l*oissy." Coiigny 
 was present as one of the prominent laymen. Beza relates tliat hi.s 
 escort from the palace to the convent numberotl a liumlrcd horsemen. 
 21 •;
 
 246 ADMir.AL COLTGNY. 
 
 afflicted country. Ilis soft, earnest voice, his calm manner 
 and his spirit of love powerfully affected the Romish dig- 
 nitaries, who seem to have been so anxious to impress their 
 little human king that they quite forgot the groat King of 
 heaven and earth. These men so gained the admiration of 
 the spectators that it was wondered whether they were the 
 impious and detested heretics, bitterly denounced the even- 
 ing before as little less than monsters. The king was never 
 so awed, 
 
 For his heart and the hearts of his people were moved 
 As the trees of the wood are moved by the wind."* 
 
 Beza rose with his brethren and addressed the king and 
 prelates. He would not, he said, attack what was eternal — 
 the true Church of the Lord. He was ready to correct him- 
 self, and his brethren, if any error should be found in them. 
 He would rather defend his OAvn cause than assail his ad- 
 versaries. "And would to God," he warmly cried, "that, 
 without going any farther, instead of opposing each other, 
 we might all sing a canticle with one voice, and hold out 
 hands to one another !" Enlarging upon the doctrines of 
 the Reformers and their loyalty to their king and their 
 Divine Lord, he prepared the way for an act of great moral 
 su])limity. Kneeling again with his brethren, he presented 
 to Charles IX. the Confession of Faith adopted by the 
 French churches. It was the substance of all that he had 
 declaimed in his speech. 
 
 A deep silence had prevailed while Beza was gently and 
 eloquently defending his doctrines, until he said, " If any 
 one ask us if we hold Jesus Christ to be absent from the 
 holy supper, we answer, No. But if we refer to the dis- 
 tance between places, as we must do when the question of 
 his corporeal presence and humanity is considered, we say 
 
 * Isaiali vii. 2.
 
 A CONGRESS AM) A ("()LL( K^I'V. 247 
 
 that his body i.s as iiir removed troiu tlie hri:id and wine as 
 the highest heaven is distant from the eartli." 
 
 At these words deep murmurs broke out in the ranks of 
 the prchites.* " He lias bhisphemed !" exchiimed some, in 
 their indignation. Others rose to leave the hall. "I beg 
 the king to silence him, or permit him to retire," said Car- 
 dinal Tournon, "or dissolve the assembly." 
 
 "Order! order!" said the king. "The speaker will 
 explain himself." 
 
 " We are on earth," continued Beza, cooled by the very 
 breezes of passion ; "the body of Christ is in heaven ; yet, 
 if any one- should thence conclude that we assert Jesus 
 Christ to be absent from the holy supper, we maintain his 
 conclusion to be false. We affirm that, spiritually and by 
 faith, we are partakers of Christ's body and blood, even as 
 certainly as we behold the sacrament with our eyes, touch 
 it with our hands, place it within our li{)S and feed on its 
 substance." Thus he held that the presence of Christ is 
 real, but yet not bodily ; it is spiritual. We may not ap- 
 preciate the importance of these questions in that age. 
 
 After some displays of rage on the part of certain car- 
 dinals, the session was adjourned for five days. .The Romish 
 doctors met in secret to collect their wisdom. " Would to 
 God," exclaimed the Cardinal of Lorraine, " he had been 
 dumb, or we deaf!" In their perplexity they selected one 
 of their number to answer Beza. 
 
 The Cardinal of Lorraine brought forward again his 
 favourite traj). It was agreed to draw up a confession of 
 faith. All the papal party would sign it; then it should 
 be presented to the Protestant deputies for their signatures, 
 
 * " I was upon the point of coinniamliiig liiin to he slU'iit," wrote 
 (^iiccn Catlierine afierwaril ; "but, considering tiiat it is tiicir Lii-toni 
 to t.ike advantage of everything for the confirmation of their doctrine 
 and lest an interruption migiit bo so turned, I sufVered him to proceed."
 
 248 ADMIRAL COLIGNY, 
 
 If they should refuse — a certain event — a blasting anathema 
 was to be uttered against them, and the discussion closed, 
 " Compel them to sign it or exterminate them, for France 
 is a country that has never put up with heresy." Such 
 was the demand of the extreme Romanists, but Catherine 
 charged them with a perverse desire to increase the troubles 
 in the land. It was thus that the Roman clergy pretended 
 to confer with the Protestant ministers. In their view the 
 colloquy was a court, and the Reformed pastors were on 
 trial at their bar. We are happy to find that there were 
 some moderate Romanists who opposed this outrageous 
 measure of the majority. 
 
 The Admiral Coligny was ready to balfle such strategy. 
 He had power with the king, his mother and the chancel- 
 lor. We may surmise that it is his hand which we see pre- 
 senting a complaint to the king, declaring that, " if the 
 bishops are to be our judges, and condemn us unheard, it will 
 be contrary to every law, human and divine. We are here 
 at the king's invitation, to promote peace, to confer with 
 our opponents and to quell disturbances. If the end is not 
 gained, ours will not be the fault." The chancellor prom- 
 ised them justice, and the cardinal's old trap was overtui'ued 
 without a victim. 
 
 Other scenes, other clashes and other futile schemes of 
 agreement followed in the hall of the convent at Poissy. 
 We may turn from the debates and follow Beza to a wed- 
 ding on the twentieth of September. Queen Jeanne of 
 Navarre was responsible for this diversion. She resolved 
 to have her cousin Rohan's wedding so celebrated as to let 
 her light shine upon the path of the Huguenots. Admiral 
 Coligny, Andelot, Odet, the Prince of Conde and King An- 
 tony were present at Argenteuil, where the bridal party as- 
 sembled. At the hour there appeared before Beza the 
 young lord Jean de Rohan and the lady Diana de Cany,
 
 A CONGRESS AND A COLLOQUY. 249 
 
 Avlio were united until the massacre of St. Bartholomew 
 sliouki consign him to a place among the Protestant mar- 
 tyrs. The Ihtiicr of the bride was so fierce a Romanist that 
 he persecuted his wife, who was a firm Protestant, and to 
 whom Calvin wrote several letters of consolation. Beza 
 was able to bring her good tidings from Cieneva. This af- 
 fair, performed at the very gates of Paris, greatly encour- 
 aged the Reformed ministers, and weddings "after the 
 fashion of Geneva" came into vogue. But there were two 
 results of historic importance. One was the wrath of the 
 legate of the pope,* just arrived to say that the "holy fa- 
 ther" was extremely provoked at the holding of such a col- 
 loquy as that of Poissy. The other was the trembling 
 which began to seize upon the King of Navarre. He was 
 falling into the snares of the Triumvirate. The papal 
 legate employed his wiles. Poor time-serving Antony ! To 
 no man was he more indebted for his very life and his high 
 office than to Admiral Coligny, and yet to no man was he 
 about to be more false. 
 
 We return to Poissy on the twenty-fourth. The Cardi- 
 nal of Lorraine is again at his work of trap])ing. He is 
 baiting the snare with the Confession of Augsburg. He 
 will play Lutheran in order to destroy the Calvinists. He 
 has sent to Metz and brought certain Augsburir men, 
 hoping to set the two strong Protestant parties agauist each 
 other. This has failed. Now he draws a paper from his 
 pocket, he reads some articles of the Lutheran Confession, 
 and asks the Reformed ministers if they will sign them. 
 They request time to reflect. 
 
 * Queen Catlieiiiie liad taken pains to prevent the pope from 
 liaving an early knowledge of the colloquy. She sent couriei-s in 
 time, to avoid blame, but she also ordered her agents along the route 
 to waylay them, destroy the letters, and thus avoid having a legate 
 present on the occai*ion. But she had written him a letter (Aug. 4) 
 which astonished him, for she spoke well of " the heretics."
 
 250 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 They know Culviu's opinion, often expressed, and yet so 
 anxious is he that on this very day he is writing to Coliguy : 
 " Especially I entreat you to hold firm, and not allow the 
 Confession of Augsburg to be brought into the question, 
 ■which would only be a torch to light the fire of discord." 
 
 Beza finds that the cardinal has garbled his extracts, but 
 still they are not far from the truth, on the Lord's supper. 
 Two days later he declares to hiui, " If we are asked to 
 sign this document as one party, it is but reasonable that 
 you also should sign it in the name of your party." 
 
 " We are not equal, and are far from being so," rej^lied the 
 cardinal, who shrank from taking the very medicine which 
 he prescribed for the Protestants. " For my part, I am 
 not called upon to sign on the word of any master. I sub- 
 scribe neither to the authors of this confession nor to you." 
 
 "Since you will not sign it yourselves, it is not just to 
 call upon us for our names." Then came two fresh cham- 
 pions into the list. One was Peter Martyr, the celebrated 
 Italian, who had taken refuge in Geneva. Calvin had 
 urged him to go to Poissy, saying, in answer to his objec- 
 tions, " If it be not yet God's pleasure to open a door, it is 
 our duty to creep through the windows, rather than allow 
 an opportunity to escape of bringing about a happy ar- 
 rangement. I learn that the queen-mother is very desirous 
 of hearing you." Queen Catherine heard him with delight, 
 for he spoke in her native language. We cannot tell how 
 far he might have drawn her toward his opinions, had not 
 the Cardinal of Lorraine cried out, " Let us have nothing 
 to do with anybody who does not speak French ! " It ^vould 
 all have been well enough had he spoken Romish. The 
 Protestants were on the eve of a great victory. They 
 almost gained from the Papists the five following admis- 
 sions : that the Holy Scripture was of higher authority than 
 the Church — that the true voice of the Church was to be
 
 A CbXGRESS AND A COLLOQUY. 251 
 
 heard fruin the first five centuries — that the doctrine of 
 transubstantiation was not essential to the faith — that some 
 sects outside of the Roman pale were to be recognized as 
 Christians, having a lawful ministry and proper sacraments 
 — and that the French Protestants might have toleration 
 in the kingdom. Coligny thought these admissions would 
 make Poissy glorious for liberty. The Chancellor de I'Ho- 
 pital imagined they would prove to be some of his great 
 stepping-stones to freedom of conscience and worship. 
 
 But another fresh champion entered the field as the re- 
 serve corps of the pope. ( Did he speak French ?) He 
 was Jacques Lainez, the Spanish general of the Jesuits, a 
 company of .sappers and miners just seeking admission into 
 France. If he could do good service at Poissy, he would 
 ojjen the way for his spiritual troops. He began on this 
 wise : " In all my constant reading I have learned that it 
 is dangerous to treat with heretics or even listen to them." 
 (A scholar! he will set us right, thought the perplexed 
 bishops.) " I beg the queen to understand that neither she 
 nor any human prince has a right to treat in matters of 
 the faith. Every man to his trade. She is but a woma^i ! 
 This is the business of the priests." (Good doctrine! our 
 king and queen had no right to call this conference, and 
 have no power to harmonize these parties, whispered the 
 cardinals.) "It is the business of the queen to suppress 
 heresy in tlie name of the pope, for these people are wolves 
 and foxes and serpents." The Jesuit thus went on for an 
 hour, uttering "nothing but a heap of abuse," pleading 
 " with many sighs and tears," and often provoking laughter, 
 l)ut still kindling fierce wrath in the minds of the Papists. 
 He finally convinced them that it was a mortal sin to admit 
 Protestants to a discussion, that the pope did not look upon 
 the conference with the least allowance, and that the ses- 
 sions must ha broken up at once. Even Beza could not
 
 252 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 resist the fury with which he sjioke. He carried the day. 
 The colloquy ended. 
 
 The next day the Prince of Cond6 said to Lainez, " Do 
 you know that the queen is very much incensed against 
 you and that she shed tears ?" 
 
 " I know Catherine de Medici of old," he replied, smiling 
 and delighted. "She is a great actress; but, prince, fear 
 nothing ; she won't deceive me !" The Jesuit knew her 
 policy ; the prince still imagined that she had principles. 
 
 Catherine saw that she must hold the powerful party of 
 the Huguenots. Such men as Coligny entreated her to 
 make one more effort for toleration. They had noted her 
 tears. She invited a little party to meet in her private 
 apartments at St. Germain. Five of them were moderate 
 Romanists, such as Jean Montluc and Despence. Five of 
 them were Protestants, among whom were Beza, Peter 
 Martyr and INIarlorat. They all sought peace and tolera- 
 tion. They had almost won the day at Poissy. They 
 wrote, struck out, interlined, copied and recopied, until at 
 last they hit upon certain vague phrases which every one 
 could interpret as he chose. The main part of the article 
 agreed upon thus reads: "^Ye confess that Jesus Christ in 
 his holy supj)er truly presents, gives and exhibits to us 
 the substance of his body and blood by the operation of 
 his Holy Spirit ; and that we receive and eat sacramentally, 
 spiritually and through faith that very bodj' which died 
 for us." 
 
 "My joy is unbounded," said the queen to Beza, for she, 
 probably, gave the words no sort of interpretation. Others 
 at court shared in her delight, without her treachery. 
 
 "It is just what I have always believed," said the Car- 
 dinal of Lorraine, on reading a copy of the jiaper. " I 
 trust it will satisfy the Pobsy divines." The historian re- 
 marks, " That he uttered these words is quit^ certain ; per-
 
 A CONGIllvSS AND A COLLOQUY. 253 
 
 haps he tliought that ho .sjtokc trutli, for such kind of 
 people never have lei.sure to think whether they believe 
 or not, nor, indeed, to think at all on what they think 
 they believe." Yet Lorraine was more likely to be crafty 
 tiian thoughtless. 
 
 "It is captious and heretical," said tlie Sorbonnists ; "let 
 us draw up a confession, and if the Huguenots refuse to 
 sign it, let them be driven out of the kingdom." They drew 
 up their formula, but how far they drove the Protestants 
 remains to be seen. 
 
 The Reformed ministers returned to their charges, except 
 Beza, who was invited by the queen to remain in France. 
 She allowed him to preach publicly in the open court of the 
 palace of St, Germain, and, large as it was, it could scarcely 
 furnish room for the assembled crowds. This was the signal 
 for a general rallying of the Huguenots. The late colloquy 
 " increased the audacity of the Reformed, and the people 
 saw the number of their churches multiplied." 
 
 Beza wrote to Calvin : " By the grace of God, we have 
 begun to found a church here (at Saint Germain) ; and, 
 God aiding us, we shall celebrate the sacrament of the 
 Lord's supper next Sabbath. . . . The Queen of Navarre 
 ceased not to ask for a minister, and moreover declares that 
 she will not suffer me to quit her court." Geneva urged 
 Beza to come back, for his academy needed him ; but 
 Coligny and others argued that, as he was a Frenchman, 
 France needed him, and prevailed on the senate to lengthen 
 his furlough. 
 
 Even the children of the royal family had caught the 
 spirit of the times. Margaret, who became the wife of 
 Henry IV. at the time of the St. Bartholomew massacre, 
 gives us an insight into tlie household of her mother Cathe- 
 rine. She says: "The whole court was infected with heresy, 
 about the time of the conference of I'ois.'^y. It was hard 
 
 Vol.. I.— 22
 
 254 ADMIRAL COLIONY. 
 
 for me to resist and keep inyiielf from a change of religion 
 at that time. Many ladies and lords belonging to court 
 strove to convert me to the wretched Huguenotism.* The 
 Duke of Anjou, since King Henry III., then a mere child, 
 had been persuaded to change his religion,f and he often 
 snatched my Hours [or breviary] out of my hand and flung 
 it into the fire, giving me instead the i)salms and prayers of 
 the Huguenots, and insisting that I should use them. I gave 
 them to Madame Curton, my governess, whom God ca\ised to 
 keep me steadfast. She took me to that good man, Cardinal 
 Touruon, and he fortified me, giving me books and chaplets 
 of beads in place of those which Anjou burned. jNIy brother 
 and his friends said that if I would go and hear the ser- 
 mons I should be cured of my bigotry. He threatened me, 
 and said that my mother would have me whipped. But he 
 said this of his own head, for she did not then know of the 
 errors he had embraced. When she found it out, she took 
 him to task, severely reprimanded his governors, had him 
 chastised, and so instructed him in the holy and ancient 
 religion of his forefathers that he never swerved from it 
 afterward. I was then seven or eight years of age, and to 
 his threats I said, ' Get me whipped if you can ; I will 
 suffer beating aud even death rather than be damned.' I 
 could furnish you with other proofs of the early ripeness 
 of my judgment and my courage, but enough." | 
 
 A worthier convert was found in the celebrated philoso- 
 pher Peter Ramus.§ He was the son of a poor coal-dealer, 
 
 * La nialliciireuse Hiiguenoterie. 
 
 f The Duke of Bouillon asserts that the next brother, Alen^on, 
 "favoured the Religion." In either case it was a mere child's incli- 
 nation. 
 
 X M^moires de Margaret de Valois. 
 
 ?, " Le plus grand philasophe de son siecle." — Puaux. lie has been 
 called the forerunner of Bacon ajid Descartes.
 
 A rONGT^ESS AND A CCnA.OqrY. 255 
 
 aiul \\as born near Noyon, about the time of Calvin's birtli. 
 These two Picardins might have sharply discussed the doc- 
 trine of predestination in their day of vigour. The lad 
 Peter forsook the coal-pits, went to school, grew wiser than 
 his teacher, set out on foot for Paris, almost starved, won 
 some notice from an uncle, who aided him, had to return 
 home to support a widowed mother, and had strength for 
 the study and labour, all before he was fifteen years old. 
 At Paris again he engaged himself to a rich student as a 
 servant, and entered college to outrun all rivals in the con- 
 tests of scholarship — now daring to point out the errors of 
 Aristotle and raising a war among the collegians, and again 
 coming forth from a severe examination amid the applause 
 of the students. He read the Bible, endured persecution, 
 fought with poverty, became principal of a college and at 
 length heard of the proposed colloquy at Poissy. Anxious 
 for light, he went, listened to the long discussions, wavered, 
 l)ut rallied again. Not by the Scripture quotations of 
 Marlorat, not by the warm eloquence of Beza, not by the 
 arguments of Peter Martyr, who knew Rome so thoroughly, 
 was this independent man convinced. It was by the very 
 ehampion of the Roman Church. 
 
 " Men may reproach me for having abandoned the faith 
 and worship of my fathers," he wrote to the Cardinal of 
 Lorraine some time after the colloquy ended, " but I am 
 used to reproach in human things, and still more can I bear 
 it in things divine. Not for my sake, but for your benefit, 
 I apprise you that I was led to the holy truth by your own 
 speech at the colloquy of Poissy. You admitted that the 
 first centuries of Christianity were a golden age; that all 
 since then grew more and more corrujjt. In choosing, then, 
 between the different ages, I took that of gold. Since then 
 I have read the writings of the Reformers and put myself 
 in connection with them ; also, for my own instruction, I
 
 256 ADMIRAL COI.IGNY. 
 
 have made a commentary on tlie leading points of doc- 
 trine."* Sucli was one of the results of Protestantism. 
 The martyr's crown would be given him on the awful St. 
 Bartholomew. 
 
 It was plainly shown by the colloquy of Poissy, that only 
 one of three policies was possible : 1st. To bring the two 
 great religious parties together by mutual concessions. The 
 colloquy had proved that this was a vain eftbrt. Margaret 
 of Navarre had made this the work of her life, but had 
 failed. Her daughter Jeanne now declared herself an un- 
 qualified Calvinist, completely gained by the arguments of 
 Beza. 
 
 2d. To let one party exterminate the other. This was 
 still the policy of the Romanists, as shown by the edict of 
 July. Their old maxim was, " Two religions cannot safely 
 exist in one state." 
 
 3d. To allow the two communions to live peaceably side 
 by side. This was the plan of the Protestants and of the 
 chancellor. They asked for toleration, Coligny and his 
 noble co-labourers set themselves vigorously to work to 
 overthrow the edict of July, and to obtain another, which 
 would lay the foundation for peace. Their success will cheer 
 us at another hour. 
 
 * Waddington, Vie de Ram^e. Another great convert was Carac- 
 cioli. Bishop of Troyes.
 
 CHAPTER X . 
 
 THE WILES OE THE COVRT. 
 (l.>01-1.503.) 
 
 THUS ended the famous colloquy of Foissy, the first and 
 last of its kind in France. It had not been entirely 
 a failure. vVs usual in controversies, each side claimed the 
 victory. If it seemed but a wind-cloud, the rain came 
 speedily after it. It gave thousands courage to ignore the 
 severe edict of July. If the Protestant chiefs might preach 
 at court, and utter their belief in conferences and escape 
 hanging, why might not the people have their own worship 
 in their houses and in the open air? 
 
 " We hardly expected to see our pastors again, when 
 they tore themselves from us to go to Poissy," said the peo- 
 ple, who wept at their return, as they had at their depar- 
 ture. " And it seems as if they had been at Pentecost, for 
 they preach with the tongue of fire." It was the signal for 
 an advance movement in all (piarters. Some large towns 
 and scores of villages declared for Protestantism. One 
 pastor wrote to the veteran Farel : " Three hundred parishes 
 of the Agenois have put down the mass. Four or even six 
 thousand ministers are needed in France." 
 
 " Build yourselves a church at Rouen outside of the 
 walls," said the admiral to his favourite Noriuaiis ; "I will 
 pay for it." But as the walls rose the peojjle had reason 
 to remember Sanballat and (icshem the Arabian, with their 
 jests about the fox whose tram]) would shake down the 
 very stones that were laid. Thither wont that tine j)reacher, 
 22 « 257
 
 258 ADMIRAL fOLIGXY. 
 
 Augustin Marlortit, to declare the trutli and seal it with his 
 blood. 
 
 Turning to the south-east, we see a spare, feeble man en- 
 tering Nismes. " Wliat is this Switzer doing in our coun- 
 try ? " ask certain Romanists. " Has he come here to die? " 
 They knew not that he had been poisoned by their own 
 party twenty-five years before in Geneva, and again beaten 
 on the highway by villains worse than the thieves on the 
 old road to Jericho, and left as one entirely dead. But the 
 next day he drew about eight thousand people to hear him. 
 He entered the pulpit, some whispering in pity, " He will 
 faint before he gets through." His physicians had told him 
 to go thither, rest and breathe the fresher air, and save his 
 life for the cause that was worth it all. He did not faint, 
 nor rest ; nor could he, for he was Peter Viret, in mildness 
 the Melanchthon of Geneva, but still the braver man. 
 Through all the South of France and into Navarre his own 
 voice rang with power. Dying daily, he yet lived to a good 
 old age.* 
 
 And thus we might make the whole circuit of France, 
 and note the surprising growth of " the new religion." The 
 Ileforraer might have quoted Tertullian ; "We date from 
 yesterday — to-day we are everywhere." In districts of Saint- 
 onge they had assembled at midnight in barns, in cellars, 
 in mountain caverns or in the depths of the forest ; they 
 had listened to such wonderful men as Palissy the Potter, 
 whose genius was admired by those who hated his princi- 
 ples ; they had seen the bishop " fetch certain monks of the 
 Sorbonne, who foamed, slavered, twisted and twirled them- 
 selves, making strange gestures and grimaces, and all whose 
 discourses were nothing but an outcry against these new 
 Christians, so that the poor people allowed their woods to 
 
 * Schmidt, Leben Virets. The early Iiistory of Yiret ha.=i been 
 traced in " Wiljiam Farel," Pres, Board of Publication.
 
 thp: wiles of the cornT. 259 
 
 be cut down, and tlie wood.-^ being eiit, tbero were no more 
 good preachers ;"* and they had quite given up all for lost. 
 But suddenly a secret word passes from one U) another; a 
 minister has come. They gather to hear him, half in joy, 
 half in fright. Bold himself, they grow bolder, and the 
 open day rings with their psalms, and the sermon closes 
 with the setting sun. A church rises, branches shoot out 
 from it, the pastor finds himself the Calvinistic bishop of 
 half a dozen parishes. 
 
 Let Catherine de Medici bear testimony to the good cha- 
 racter of these people in her realm. In the letter which 
 she caused to be written to the pope, apologizing for her 
 lenience, and calling upon him to devise some remedy for 
 the evil of heresy, she had said : " The number of those 
 who have foreaken the Roman religion has increased so 
 greatly that neither the sword nor edicts can suppress 
 them. The new religion has such power upon the minds 
 of men that many nobles and magistrates have embraced 
 it. And, by a singular favour of God, there are among 
 them no Anabaptists, none holding monstrous opinions, nor 
 any who oppose the apostles' creed. All accept the doc- 
 trines of the first seven general councils. Some method 
 ought to be devised to recall thase who have left the Roman 
 communion, and retain those who still continue in it but 
 who demand a reform." f She recommends the disuse of 
 " forbidden images, exorcisms and suj>erstitions." Sarpi 
 says she wrote with "a French liberty" that vexed the 
 pope to the heart. 
 
 ^licheli, the Venetian amba-^sador, who made good use 
 of his eyes as he travelled, reports : " In many provinces 
 
 * Morley, Life of Palis.-;y. 
 
 f Kunionstraiict's an Pape Pie IV. Tliere is gooil reason to tliiiik 
 this lengtliy paper was drawn np under the advice of llie ehancellor 
 and such men as the Bishop of Valence and Cardinal de Chatillon.
 
 260 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 meetings are held, sermons preached and rules of life 
 adopted after the manner of Geneva, and all without any 
 regard to the king's prohibition. Every one has embraced 
 these opinions — priests, monks, nuns (for scarcely a con- 
 vent has escaped the infection), and even bishops and many 
 distinguished prelates. Excepting the common people, who 
 still go zealously to the churches, all have fallen away ; 
 the nobles, most especially those under fort}'-, almost to a 
 man ; for although many of them still go to mass, it is only 
 through fear and for the sake of appearances. When they 
 are sure of not being watched, they shun both mass and 
 church.* . . . Religious freedom must be granted them, or 
 a general war must come." 
 
 What was the relative strength of the Huguenots at this 
 period ? The question is difficult to answer ; yet we may 
 have some light upon it from men of different parties. The 
 Romanists had put the number as low as they could, but 
 the Cardinal St. Croix, a sort of titled spy sent out by the 
 pope, reported that "the kingdom was half Huguenot." 
 Was he an alarmist? We quote again from the court 
 letter, written on the eve of the colloquy of Poissy : " The 
 fourth part of this kingdom is separated from the com- 
 munion of the [Roman] Church ; and this fourth part is 
 composed of gentlemen, of the principal citizens, and of 
 those of the lower classes who have seen the world and are 
 accustomed to bear arms, so that the separated do not lack 
 
 * "In the suburbs of Toulouse there are free meetings of tlie godly 
 to the number of ten thousand men. Indeed, fifteen thousand have 
 professed the Gospel. In Auvergne the nobility still rages most ob- 
 stinately. In Brittany the nobles, almost to a man, have embraeed 
 the Keform. Also in Picardy, but the populace cannot be brought 
 over. In Champaigne and the district of Sens they are rather luke- 
 warm. The I'urgnndians begin to show a bolder spirit (for the truth). 
 Nothing so much retards the progress of Christ's kingdom as the pau- 
 city of ministers." — Calvin's Letters, \2th March, 1562.
 
 THE WILES f)F THE COURT. 2G1 
 
 for stronglli. Nor do tlu-y lack for wisdom ; for they have 
 with them more tluin three-fourthn of the men of letters. 
 They liave Jio want of nioiioy to carry on their affairs, hav- 
 ing on their side a great {)ropor.tion of the Uirge and gcjod 
 liouscs, hoth of tlie nobility and the third estate." These 
 statements go far to j)rove the mistake of those historians 
 who assert that the Protestants fornied but a tenth part of 
 the people. In the wars, wliieh soon followed, the tenth 
 j)art eould not have so long resisted the other nine. 
 
 The queen requested Admiral Coligny to take the num- 
 ber of the Reformed churches. He presented her a list of 
 two thousand one hundred and fifty : one historian adds to 
 it about five hundred more. He said that these were the 
 organized flocks, under regular pastors. Besides these were 
 many bands of believers not yet gathered into a church. 
 All these i)eo})le were loyal to the government; they ofiercd 
 their wealth and their lives to the service of their king. 
 But they asked for liberty of conscience and for houses of 
 worship. They could endure the edict of July ; it allowed 
 j)rivate gatherings, but forbade public meetings, and could 
 not be carried into effect. Catherine inijuired what numljer 
 of troops they could furnish? " Whatever thousands you 
 wish," said Coligny, who thought that their ]iatri()li>m 
 might bring them upon a footing of toleration. She saw a 
 possible need for their aid. I'hilip of Spain coolly assumed 
 to be the especial champion of popery and guardian of 
 France. He made his threats: "Let the Huguenots be no 
 longer tolerated, or I will send troops to assist the Catho- 
 lics." Catherine was aroused to a new danger — that of 
 the Spanish suprenuicy. The Triumvirs were more than 
 willing to accept the otlc'rs of Philip, and she must see that 
 this movement was checked. She sent out her proi)osal, to 
 be read in all the Huguenot lussemblies, "that she was ready 
 to employ the Protestants against the foreigners, who threat-
 
 262 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 ened to invade the kingdom under pretence of religion," 
 Philip must learn that France was not Flanders. 
 
 "Tliankss to the admiral for that!" we hear Andelot say; 
 " hut if the queen-mother wishes us to make war for her 
 she must protect us in our worslii])." He would bring her 
 good-will to the test. 
 
 The Reform movement in Paris was astonishing. The 
 ministers had come down from Poissy and preached to vast 
 assemblies outside the walls. Andelot and Conde had taken 
 precautions against the mobbing tendencies of the Parisian 
 Romanists, and they kept about the worshippers a guard of 
 more than one thousand men. The preacher took his place 
 in the open air, around him were the women and children, 
 then armed students and citizens, and then horsemen and 
 the chiefs. A less military look might have been prudent; 
 it might have been less safe. 
 
 Beza preached there to audiences of eight thousand ; 
 some report five times that number. It can hardly be that 
 " the guild-halls were opened for the Calvinist orators," 
 but we may believe that all classes, nobles and commoners, 
 rich and poor, crowded to hear the preachers. After one 
 of these open-air sermons Beza engaged to go to the Prot- 
 estant temple in the evening and hear the eloquent Malot. 
 " There will be a riot," said his friends ; " we beg of you to 
 keep away !" He yielded at first, but hearing that hun- 
 dreds of Protestants had already assembled, he feared that 
 some might think him wanting in courage if he did not go. 
 Some Protestants had just been insulted on their waj' from 
 a sermon, and the Huguenot gentlemen resolved to clean 
 out some of the rookeries of the monks if the like was 
 done again. They gave Beza their company, two thousand 
 of them, perhaps -with Catherine's consent, for Captain 
 Gabaston, a Papist, led the escort. Scarcely had the 
 preacher begun when his voice was drowned by a clangour
 
 Tin: WILES OF THE COURT. 203 
 
 of l)clls. The priols (if the iicij^lihniiriiig church of St, 
 ]\[e(hinl, outf<i(lo the walls, were pulling every rope ami 
 straining ail (he bra.ss in the bcllVy, as if to give the vespers 
 a Sicilian character. 
 
 One of tlie Protestants went over and entreated them to 
 cease the din. High word? arose, and in the fray he was 
 phot dead. The bells still rang. Other messengers came, 
 saw the lifeless body of their comrade and raised the alarm. 
 The soldiers rushed to the sj)ot ; a thousand swords leaj)ed 
 IVom their scabbards. Andelot rode to the church, staved 
 in the barred dooi-s, entered and drove the priests into the 
 tower, whence they threw down missiles and sounded the 
 tocsin. This called out the mob, who rushed upon the 
 Protestants. Beza endeavoured to calm the tumult and 
 Malot started the sixteenth Psalm: "Lord, keep me, for I 
 trust in thee," and then went on with his sermon, little sus- 
 {)ecting that the " temple" would be in ashes within twenty 
 hours. The riot was renewed the next day. De Thou re- 
 lates that the ])riests broke the images in hurling them at 
 their enemies. Beza thinks the Huguenots did their lull 
 share in demolishing statues, relics and altars. Perhaps 
 fifty persons were killed and wounded. 
 
 Parliament took uj) the case. Captain Gabaston had 
 thrust ten priests and twenty-six of their gang into prison, 
 l)ut they wei*e set free. The ca])tain and three of his police 
 ordered by the government to be present for quelling any 
 possible riot, were put to death for "assisting the Plugue- 
 nots!" that is, for not slaying them. INIany citizens were 
 hanged on suspicion of heresy, or drowned without any 
 form of trial. Their crime was their effort to stoj) a street 
 w'ar. The executions were continued through several 
 months, in order to terrify the people.* This affair sealed 
 the fate of the edict of July, which the chancellor and the 
 * Mc^in. lie ("oiidi'; Oc'Tlioii.
 
 264 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 admiral liaa laboured to overthrow. Strange that this 
 violent pr(<cceding should be so managed as to become a 
 means of greater liberty ! 
 
 Tliis was not the only outbreak of popular fury in Fi'ance. 
 The Reformed of Dijon were at worship when tlie mob 
 arose, rang the bells and made the attack. But the armed 
 Huguenots used force against force. The rioters, finding 
 the war too severe in that quarter, fell to plundering the 
 houses of the citizens. At Cahors the tocsin was sounded, 
 the Romanists gathered, shut the Protestants up in their 
 temple and then set it on fire. The poor worshippers, for- 
 cing their way through smoke and flame, were cut down by 
 tlie savages or outraged. Those who were smothered in 
 the building perished with the less shame and agony. 
 Armed bands entered certain towns, shut the gates and 
 revelled in the pillage and murder of the " hated sec- 
 tarians." 
 
 Catherine was alarmed, not for the Protestants, but for 
 herself. The bishops cried, " Expel these preachers from 
 the kingdom, and if any remain slay them." She saw that 
 this course would lead to a civil war, and probably drive 
 her from France. She had gone too far for such measures, 
 for she had openly given liberty to Beza and invited Hu- 
 guenot aid. At once she called a council of deputies from 
 the several parliaments to meet her at St Germain. In this 
 unexpected call the voices of the chancellor and the admiral 
 were not publicly heard. 
 
 The chancellor came forward with his liberal views — that 
 the two religions must exist together in France, that the 
 State had to deal with men as citizens and not as Christians, 
 that the king ought not to put himself at the head of one of 
 the strong religious parties, that edicts of threatening and 
 terror were in vain, and that the one great remedy for ex- 
 isting evils was to legalize the meetings of the Protestants.
 
 THE WILES OF THE COURT. 265 
 
 These views prevailed so fur as to seen re another and 
 milder Edict of Jaimary. 
 
 " Not so much granted to us as is due," said some of the 
 Huguenots, who had hoped for a recognition of equality. 
 " We must restore all churches peaceably taken from the 
 Catholics, even if they remain cni])ty. AVe must surrender 
 to them all proi)erty which they have yielded to us. We 
 are f(irbidden to build churches for purselves, and even to 
 meet for public worship within the town walls." 
 
 " Very true," replied Coligny and his co-workers, who 
 knew how to estimate their new privileges. "You forget 
 that only yesterday we were a mere sect, utterly proscribed, 
 abhorred and hunted down by both the Church and State. 
 You fail to see that to-day we are recognized as a great re- 
 ligious body, having some rights — " 
 
 " Rights!" exclaimed some, who took advantage of the ad- 
 miral's slow speech. " Where are they granted to us?" 
 
 " It is never wise to be too clamorous for our rights," 
 said the admiral. " Let us use well what we have, and 
 tlic rest may come. We have a right to meet unarmed 
 outside of the walls or limits of the towns; we may collect 
 money to support our pastors ; we may hold synods with 
 the consent of the king; we may have preached to us all 
 the doctrines of the Nicene creed, and this sanctions all 
 the doctrines of the holy Scriptures ; and if our ministers 
 are not allowed to attack the errors of the Papists, they can 
 give us the more truth. There are other points of restraint, 
 but let us even turn them into privileges, and become more 
 gentle and submissive. By all means let us avoid quarrels, 
 riots and civil war." 
 
 "But how long are these privileges to last?" inquired 
 certain Huguenots, still doubtful whether they had gained 
 anything by the edict. 
 
 " Until the calling of a general council, and that may be 
 Vol. I.— 23
 
 266 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 left to the queen. If so, we hope to secure her favour so 
 that the council will grant us even larger liberty." With 
 this understanding the Protestants began to feel that Co- 
 ligny and the chancellor had done them great service. 
 But how could whole cities in Southern France go and wor- 
 ship outside their walls? Why restore churches whose 
 priests had forsaken the pulpits and whose people had been 
 converted to the true faith ? Why leave them closed with- 
 out a Papal worshipper ? However, Beza and his colleagues 
 advised tlie Huguenots to observe the edict. They gener- 
 ally heeded the advice, and this edict of January, 1562, 
 proved " the palladium and charter of the Protestants."* 
 The heroic Theodore Agrippa D'Aubigne regarded it as a 
 crowning effort as he looked back upon its workings, and 
 he described it as an edict " not contested between party 
 and party, but granted by the most celebrated assembly of 
 worthies seen in France for years before or since." Let 
 due credit be given to De I'Hopital and Coligny, who had 
 great power over the wily Catherine. 
 
 What said the opposite party? The Guises had been 
 sent on a mission to Germany, but of course they protested 
 against the edict. The Guisards made every effort to per- 
 suade the parliaments not to register it as a law. The more 
 violent clergy still cried, " If the nobles will not strike, the 
 people must do it, brother against brother. Ties of blood 
 are made void by heresy. If you do not fall upon the Hu- 
 guenots, you have no religion." Even Brulart, the chroni- 
 cler, declared that the measure was " a wholesale approval 
 of that wretched Calvinistic sect, and utterly pernicious to 
 the realm." The warrior Tavannes resisted it in Burgundy, 
 driving from Dijon a large number of the Reformed — some 
 say two thousand. He issued orders for the peasantry " to 
 
 * " If the liberty promised in this edict be maintained, Popedom 
 must fall of its own accord." — CcUvin to Sturm, March, 1562.
 
 THE WlhES OF THE COURT. 267 
 
 massacre all who prayed elsewhere than in the churches, 
 and to deny food, drink and shelter to the expelled rebels." 
 Under a fir tree at Aix the Huguenots had met for worship 
 outside the walls. What horror for them to find every 
 morning, for weeks, men and women hanging from its 
 branches ! In the night the nuid officials had allowed the 
 work of terror to be done. Thus priest, scholar and war- 
 rior hissed on the mob. The parliament of Dijon gave heed 
 to them and refused to approve of the edict. The parlia- 
 ment of Paris declined, but the queen commanded, and it 
 was finally entered, " without approving the new religion." 
 But nobly was it endorsed by the parliaments of Bordeaux, 
 Toulouse, Rouen and Grenoble. 
 
 Castlenau paints the success of the Huguenots, without 
 dipping his pen in Papal gall, and says, "Then the minis- 
 ters of the new religion began to preach more boldly, here 
 and there — some in the fields, others in gardens, openly in 
 every place whithersoever afl!ection or passion led them, or 
 where they could find shelter, as in old ruined buildings, or 
 even barns. . . . The people, curious of novelties, flocked 
 from all parts. Catholics as well as Protestants — some to 
 see the modes of this new worship ; some to warn the wor- 
 shippers. . . . They, discoursed in French, quoting no Latin 
 and few texts of Scripture ; they commonly began their 
 sermons by speaking against those abuses in the Church 
 which no prudent Catholic could defend. . . . After their 
 sermons they prayed, and sang psalms in French rhyme, 
 with music and numerous good voices, by which they at- 
 tractled all who were fond of novelty, and many were much 
 edified, so that their number increased every day. . . . They 
 would administer the sacrament after a foshion of their 
 own. After their talk about reforming abuses they dis- 
 tributed alms, which looked very specious to the outsiders, 
 and drew many from the Catholic party."
 
 268 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 This candid and devout chronicler does not withhold the 
 fact that " the Catholic clergy" profited by the excellent 
 lesson taught them. The priests and bishops, " led by the 
 force of example, imitation or the desire of improvement, 
 began to consider well the methods of the new preachers, 
 and to take more care of their own flocks, and to attend to 
 their duties. Some began to study the holy writings, lest 
 the Protestant ministers should have an advantage over 
 them. They began to preach more, and warn the people 
 against heresies and novelties in religion." 
 
 Here we have one of the first notices of the Jesuits in 
 France — that new order of men who brought into the ser- 
 vice of the Roman Church earnestness and self-sacrifice, a 
 willingness to carry the faith into burning India or frozen 
 Siberia, a stealth by which they crept into royal courts and 
 drew princes into their snares, or even slipped into the 
 strongholds of Protestantism and took a seat among the 
 councillors, a craft, a disguising of motives, an accommoda- 
 tion to circumstances, and a policy so plastic that it could 
 readily be shaped for any latitude, any state of society, and 
 every class of men. Taking upon them the name of the 
 Holy One Incarnate, they so perverted it from all candour 
 and honest purpose that the name of Jesuit has come to 
 mean a smiling hypocrite, a shrewd charmer, an intriguer, 
 smooth-tongued and doubled-faced. Jesus declared, " I 
 spake openly to the world ; in secret have I said nothing;" 
 the Jesuit did all in secret, and never spake Avhat he meant 
 until he was sure that his arts had prevailed. 
 
 Father Lainez had thrown confusion into both camps St 
 Poissy, so that the result might appear a drawn battle. 
 Planting his own banner on the field, he sent forth the 
 rallying-cry to the soldiers of his own order. They must 
 invade France, and do, by whispering and seducing, w^hat 
 Lorraine could not by his inquisition. They must have at
 
 Tin: WILES or the court. 269 
 
 Paii:> a training-school, a college, a hospital, and all the 
 machinery devised by Ignatius Loyola. They must have 
 their spies at every court, their teachers over every young 
 heir to a throne, their politicians in every cabinet, their 
 share of bishops and cardinals in every election, and their 
 sappers undermining every fortress that was the refuge 
 and defence of liberty. All of which came about in due ' 
 time.* 
 
 While the Protestants were so active, says Castelnau, 
 " the Jesuits likewise and monks mounted the pulpit much 
 oftcner, and went through the cities, villages, and even to 
 l)rivate houses, warning the people against the Reformed 
 doctrines, and the bishops sent to Rome for imlulgences; and 
 some did not scruple to say that it was expedient to prevent 
 the Protestants from preaching, since the government took 
 no notice of them. These proceedings put a great stop to 
 the i)rogress of the Reformed teachers. When the Catho- 
 lics came to know that the King of Navarre had left the 
 Reformed party, and that he struck in with the Guises, the 
 constable and the Marshal St. Andre (the Triumvirate), 
 they began to feel more secure." f Their great reliance 
 was the civil arm ; that of the truer Protestants had been 
 God alone, and had it so continued with them all, very dif- 
 ferent would have been the results. 
 
 Every holy cause may have its Jehu, its zealots who put 
 their true leaders in alarm. " I fear our friends more than 
 our foes," said Beza, Avhen denouncing the acts of certain 
 Huguenots at Monti)ellier. To Calvin he wrote, soon after 
 the January edict: "You will scarcely believe how intem- 
 perate our people are, as if they wanted to rival our ene- 
 mies in impatience." Calvin deplored these disorders, while 
 glancing toward the brighter side: " I dare scarcely alhulu 
 
 * Niccolini, History of the Jesuits; Ilimko, History of tlie Popes, 
 f Memoircs de Ciusteliiiui, bk. iii. 5, G. 
 23 *
 
 270 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 to the affairs of France, they are iu such confusion. The 
 number of the godly, however, increases daily. The alac- 
 rity and zeal are astonishing. But the fickleness of one 
 man (Navarre) is the reason why the parliament of Paris 
 assails Christ with such obstinate fury." * 
 
 The position, then, of Antony of Navarre was thought to 
 be of great importance. All parties looked to him with 
 interest; and the more, perhaps, because he was a mere 
 tool, to be used by those who happened to have the mastery. 
 He was unstable as water. He changed with the wind ; 
 his very shadow put him in fear. He was not a man to be 
 left to his principles, for he had none ; and therefore the 
 Protestants were anxious about him. He was not a man to 
 withstand the soft temptations, for he was worse than weak ; 
 therefore the other party caressed him. AVith ability to 
 serve his country, he had power to ruin her. It requires 
 less talent to do evil than to do good, and small is the 
 capacity necessary for mischief. 
 
 We remember how Coligny had a hand in saving the 
 King of Navarre, in getting him into the royal cabinet and 
 into the position of a Protestant chief. It seems, too, that 
 Coligny would have urged the States-general to appoint him 
 regent, had not Antony been such an incompetent prince. 
 The Protestants relied too greatly upon Navarre. Calvin 
 wrote to him, nurtured his faith, rebuked his faults, warned 
 him of his dangers, sent Beza to prop him up, begged, 
 argued, scolded — all in vain. AH the serjnons and conver- 
 sations of Beza were lost upon him. All the tears and 
 entreaties of his noble wife were nothing to him. Year* 
 before he sought to lead her to an open avow'al of the truth, 
 but just now, when she publicly declares herself a Calvinist, 
 
 * Calvin's Letters, dcxxv. The amount of correspondence about 
 Antony of Xavarre, and the letters to him, show how much was to be 
 gained or lost by his conduct.
 
 THE WILES OF THE COURT. 271 
 
 lie renounces the iUilli, and iibandons all that love or re- 
 ligion had made sacred. 
 
 The story is too long, too full of infamy. Every art \va.s 
 employed to ruin a man who had some of the qualities of a 
 successful warrior and to kindle his vain desire for power. 
 But he must forsake the noble Jeanne. The pope would 
 annul the nuirriage. The Guises at court took him by the 
 hand as their " good cousin," and whispered to him that he 
 might marry their niece, Mary, Queen of Scots; and thus 
 they held the crown of Scotland before his eyes. The 
 legate of King Philip, who wished to get the kingdom of 
 Navarre into his hands, laid before him beautiful maps of 
 Sardinia, and in glowing colours painted the richness of the 
 island and the glory of being the king thereof. Satan was 
 saying, "All this is thine, if thou wilt renounce the 
 Protestant faith !" 
 
 The vast Papal machinery was put to the utmost strain 
 in order to bring about what jNIaiinbourg calls "the beau- 
 tiful conversion" of the King of Navarre. This mountain 
 must be removed, and to the work were applied the inge- 
 nuities of the council of Trent. Sarpi tells us, that as 
 " this prince favoured o])enly the new religion, and was 
 governed entirely by the advice of Admiral Coligny," and 
 as the Protestants were full of hope in obtaining liberty of 
 conscience, "the pope was thrown into great disquietude;" 
 he must " bridle the Protestants ;" hv must engage Philip 
 of Spain in the business ; he must have Jeanne d'Albret 
 })ut under the ban as a heretic, and divorced; he must 
 rause all Romish Europe to perceive the magnitude of the 
 work, and must see that this pivot, on which all must turn, 
 be so inclined that France would swing over into the old 
 Papal domain. With great care, in the neiit hand of the 
 period, was prepared " a brief of those things which were 
 called into consultation in that holy council of Trent, . . .
 
 272 ADMIRAL COI.IGXY. 
 
 first against tlie King of" Navai-re, because lie doth not well 
 govern the affairs of Charles his ward, King of France, and 
 is an author of spreading abroad that new Calvinist sect in 
 France. . . . That the matter may be performed with 
 greater authority, they have thought good that Catholic 
 King Philip should be the chief in the whole business, and 
 have created him the chief head and captain of this 
 matter." Philip was to take the little kingdom of Navarre 
 from him and his family. " The Duke of Guise shall pro- 
 fess himself tlie head of the Catholic faction, and levy an 
 army of chiefest men. . . . The business of rooting out the 
 new religion shall be committed to him, and he shall ut- 
 terly root out the house of Bourbon and all that name, lest 
 of that stock should come some one to take revenge and 
 raise again this new religion." Geneva was to be attacked, 
 and everybody there slain or drowned in the lake. Guise 
 was to kill "rich and mighty men," to get money for the 
 expenses. Such were some of the plottings of the council 
 of Trent.* 
 
 Poor weak Antony, tempted, seduced, dazzled and be- 
 fooled, warned and threatened, sold his conscience for a 
 kingdom in the clouds. He gave himself into the hands 
 of the Triumvirate, of bad women, and of lying legates 
 sent by the pope and by Philip. He avowed himself a 
 Romanist, He was then made to understand by Si)ain 
 that he must show his sincerity by driving "those pests," 
 the Chatillons, from the court. This he could not do ; he 
 dared not attempt, 
 
 " We shall win the whole of them yet," said this band 
 of tempters, "except the Coligny brothers, and we can settle 
 them at their homes." Already had they wrought upon the 
 Prince of Coude. He had assembled his friends and de- 
 
 * Harleian MSS., in Buckley's Hist. Council of Trent. Compare 
 Surpi, Pallavicino, Strada, De Thou, etc.
 
 THE WII.ES OF THE COURT. '273 
 
 maiuled satijifiictiun of Guise for tlie past injuries — the 
 imprisonment and the sentence of death. " Let it all pass," 
 said Coligiiy, " but keep clear of court wiles." Yet what 
 were the admiral's feelings when he stood with a crowd of 
 dignitaries and looked upon a great farce? Guise and 
 Conde were to be reconciled. It was to afford a grand 
 scene for the court. After the pompous formalities the 
 duke said, "Sir, I have never been the author, instigator or 
 adviser of your imprisonment." 
 
 " And, sir, I hold as wicked and villainous he or they who 
 have been the authors," replied the prince, " And I too," 
 rejoined Guise, "but that does not reflect upon me." Their 
 eyes flashed with the old Are. 
 
 "Let the princes embrace and henceforth" live as good 
 cousins ought to do," said Navarre, perceiving the hollow 
 sham and fearing a quarrel if they went on so sharply in 
 their apologies. They embraced, and the shrewd Catherine 
 gave a feast to the whole gentry. 
 
 And now Coligny stood quite alone in honesty, unselfish 
 patriotism and Christian principle. Even the chancellor 
 seemed to give way before the sweeping power of the new 
 league. Only one more act and the drama would be com- 
 j)lete ; that was the expulsion of the Chatillons. He knew 
 the plot was carefully laid. He knew what to expect from 
 the queen, the court and the whole Papal forces when this 
 jiart of the scheme was revealed to him. Perhaps Cathe- 
 rine gave him the information. He saw a cooler and then 
 a more contemptuous treatment of the Reformed preachers 
 at the palace. They were now studiously slighted. If she 
 sat before them she went to sleep; the courtiers jested, the 
 little king played with his dog. The hope of having Beza 
 as court-preacher and fine chapels at every court-residence 
 — at St. Germain, at !Meaux, at Blois and Fontainebleau — 
 faded away. Antony had but to beckon, the whole force
 
 274 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 of the Duke of Guise would come, and then woe to the man 
 who lingered last to represent Protestantism ! The old 
 work of removing every Bourbon, every Chatillon, and even 
 the Montmoreucies, would soon begin. AVhere it would end 
 let St. Bartholomew tell. Coligny began to perceive more 
 of Catherine's double dealing. "I cannot spare you," was 
 the voice of her conduct toward him. " If you depart the 
 Guises will again take possession of everything." She 
 might soon address him as " my friend," and then woe to 
 him. 
 
 " I must leave," we hear him reply. " The plot is laid. 
 A Spanish ambassador is coming to make this demand at 
 the peril of the kingdom. For the sake of saving you the 
 trial of dismissing me, and for the sake of my country, I 
 will retreat for a season." 
 
 Noble, generous Coligny ! Rather than insist upon his 
 rights at the risk of a civil war, he would retire from a high 
 position of influence. He obtained a permission to visit 
 his estates. As the last of his long train of baggage-mules 
 was leaving one of the palace gates the first one of the 
 Spanish legate's train entered the other. The Spaniai'd, 
 according to the programme, well understood, soon de- 
 manded the absolute dismissal of the Colignys. Catherine 
 replied, "The admiral and the Seigneur d'Andelot are 
 absent on their private afl'airs, and the Cardinal de Chatillon 
 has retired to his diocese, in obedience to my express desire 
 that bishops as well as governors, in these unquiet times, 
 should betake themselves to their charges." The legate 
 was angry, but the Chatillons were safe. 
 
 This is the great turning-point in the history of France 
 during the swordless struggles of the Reformation. It is 
 marked by the defection of Navarre and the forced retire- 
 ment of Admiral Coligny from court. Antony forsook 
 Protestantism; Coligny embraced it with more fervour;
 
 THE WILES OF THE COURT. 275 
 
 they parted for ever. But not yet did the admiral give up 
 all hope of seeing Catherine directed in a policy of peace 
 and toleration. Truly had Calvin written : "The admiral 
 is the only nian on whose fidelity we can count." 
 
 What a sight for the Huguenots ! King Antony at mass 
 with the Lorraines ; Coligny in his castle of Chatillon, 
 mourning over the prospects of the Reformed Church, and 
 seeking comfort in saying, " If we have our religion left us, 
 what more do we want?" If frail mortals may ever in- 
 dulge a surprise at the righteous permissions of Jehovah, 
 the Protestants might well be amazed at the sudden turn 
 of affairs, and wonder why God allowed the pillars of their 
 hopes to be removed. 
 
 Another sight was even more affecting. The tears and 
 prayers of Queen Jeanne touched the hearts of all who had 
 any respect for human love and fidelity. "She excited 
 pity in all who beheld her," says Beza, "except in her 
 husband, so besotted was he !" During fourteen years she 
 had given him her affl'ction, her wealth, her wisdom and 
 all the character imputed to him. And now he was ready 
 to abandon her as a wretched criminal. In his rage at her 
 firmness of faith he maltreated her. Catherine sought to 
 repair the broken ties by advising her to fall in with his 
 humours and change of religion. " Madame," was the 
 reply, " rather than ever go to mass, if I had my kingdom 
 and my son in my hand, I would cast them both into the 
 depths of the sea !" * 
 
 This son was Henry, afterward the Fourth of France. 
 She had carefully educated him under a Protestant teacher 
 to whom Calvin gave sage advice f Of him she had in- 
 dulged the highest hopes, but now he was taken from her 
 and placed under a Romish tutor. Losing all hope, she re- 
 
 * Bezii, Ilistoire de I'Eglise. f Calvin to L:v Gaucherie.
 
 276 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 solved to leave Paris.* At her departure she clasped her 
 son in her arms, bathed him with her tears and besought 
 him not to abandon the faith in which he had been edu- 
 cated. 
 
 She gave the hand to her heartless husband, and again 
 entreated him to forsake the Guise faction and return to his 
 wife and her kingdom. It was a brave departure, for she 
 knew that plots had been laid for her arrest, and Catherine 
 had defeated them. One more plot was laid of which she 
 was ignorant ; Conde was at once informed of it, prf)bably 
 by Catherine. The first night her large train rested at 
 Olivet. Beza came with letters of warning. She pushed 
 forward rapidly and reached Venddme. The authorities 
 of the town were about to arrest her, by order of the coun- 
 cil of which her husband was a member ! Suddenly four 
 hundred troopers dashed upon the place and began the 
 work of pillage. She forbade any one to oppose them. 
 They seem to have been sent by her brother-in-law, the 
 Prince of Conde, not only for her safety, but to make re- 
 prisals in the war which had fiercely begun. 
 
 Once more in her little realm, Jeanne D'Albret took up 
 the work of her mother Margaret, opened schools, founded 
 colleges and hospitals, published a new code of laws and 
 advanced the Reformation. Soon there was not a beggar 
 in Beam. The children of the poor were educated at the 
 public expense. Drunkenness, usury and games of chance 
 were severely repressed. All the arts flourished with the 
 new faith. Churches increased ; pastors were brought from 
 Geneva. Even to this day the people utter the name of 
 " the good queen " with affection and reverence. A Ro- 
 manist chronicler says : " She was the wisest, most generous, 
 most learned princess of her time; she had in her heart the 
 
 * We anticipate tlic events of the next chapter. Tlie first civil war 
 had now begun, and Cunde was at Orleans with an army.
 
 Tin: wii.es or the court. 277 
 
 source of every virtue and of every good quality." It is 
 needless to quote the opinions of Protestants; we shall 
 know her hand wlien we see it again, and believe that "her 
 whole soul belonged to manly things, her powerful spirit to 
 vast affairs, and her unconquerable heart to great adver- 
 sities."* 
 
 The civil wars of France begin to open before us. But 
 they were preceded by various tumults like those of St. 
 Jacques and St, ^ledard. Out of more than a dozen mas- 
 sacres of that time, there is one which was the especial har- 
 binger of woe. It has been called the spark which lighted 
 the fire of civil war ; the first of the series of atrocities 
 which culminated in the black day of St. Bartholomew. 
 To understand how Conde and Guise became the opposing 
 chiefs in the fierce contest, and how Coligny and the Chris- 
 tian Huguenots were drawn into it, we must notice the 
 " massacre of Vassy."t 
 
 Among the villages granted to the house of Lorraine 
 was Vassy, in Champagne. Its three or four thousand 
 inhabitants, paid tribute to Mary of Scots, and the mother 
 of the Guises dwelt near them, at Joiuville, which gave 
 title to one of her sons. Many of the people of this old 
 town favoured the new religion, wanted the gospel, and 
 soon after the colloquy of Poissy a minister of that prov- 
 ince was appointed to visit them, and " organize a church 
 according to the word of God." He went, but some of 
 them said, " It is not a good time. The Duke of Guise 
 and his brothers are now at Joiuville, and they will march 
 down upon us." 
 
 " The Lord will overshadow with his hand those who 
 hunger for his word. Let us try first to meet in secret and - 
 
 * Freer, Life of .Jeanne d'Alhret ; (\jI(iii1)i)iiii, etc. 
 t Discours entier de In IVrsenition en la ville de Va-^sy (Mem. de 
 Cond6).—Dc Thou, Bcza, etc. 
 Vol. I.— 2.1
 
 278 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 preach Jesus Christ, as your neighbours have done at 
 Konay," (the edict of July was still in force). 
 
 In the house of a tailor there gathered about twenty-five 
 persons, " men and women, faithful and pa])ists ; they sang, 
 prayed and heard the sermon ; they formed a church, elect- 
 ing four elders and two deacons. They parted to tell the 
 glad tidings. The next day five or six hundred persons 
 came ; still more the following days, until they resorted to 
 the open grounds of a mansion. They were led into " the 
 living pastures." While the minister was again with his 
 charge at Troyes, the elders fed the flock by " reading 
 printed sermons on the commandments." Two months 
 passed. The people of the neighbouring villages came, 
 and soon there were nearly one thousand members of the 
 church at Vassy. They met in a barn on the commons, 
 near the Roman Catholic church. It is not true that this 
 was a "Calvinist meeting-house" close by the church,." set 
 there probably in deliberate insolence." 
 
 Scarcely had the minister visited again this quiet people, 
 when the Bishop of Chalons, his monk and a train of armed 
 attendants came into town on a December day, all sent 
 thither by the mother of the Guises. She had already 
 threatened her vassals and tenants with severe penalties if 
 they gave ear to the preachings. The bishop seems to have 
 been an ignorant, but not a violent man. He sought to 
 bring about a trial of preaching abilities between the monk 
 and the minister, but forbade the people to hear the latter 
 in the barn. They took their own choice, however, and 
 went, sang cheerfully, listened to the word of God and 
 bowed their heads for prayer. At that moment they heard 
 the steps of the bishop and his party. 
 
 " I am the Bishop of Chalons," said he, " and this place 
 belongs to my diocese. Let the people come and hear 
 me."
 
 THE Wll.r-S OF THE COURT. 279 
 
 " Will you preach?" iiuiuired the miuLster. "I preach 
 through my vicars," was the answer, 
 
 "Did the apostles have vicsxrs? Nay, let us hear you. 
 But, as I am first at the desk, let the people hear me first, 
 and if you find any error in my doctrine you can point it 
 out." At this there wa.< a noise in the assembly. 
 
 " I come here as the Bishop of Chalons," replied the dig- 
 nitary; for authority and not argument was to be his 
 reliance. 
 
 "And I am here as the minister of Troyes. There none 
 enter to disturb us in our prayers or sermons ; why are we 
 disturbed here? The governor of Champagne permits us 
 to have our worship." 
 
 " You are not a minister. Who ordained you ?" 
 
 " I received my office from ( Jod, not from men. Listen 
 peaceably to the Gospel, or leave us alone." 
 
 The bishop, not sustained by the town officers, nor by his 
 monk, " who said not one word," took his departure. Some 
 of the excited people shouted, "Fox, wolf! send him to 
 school!" Others, in a far better spirit, lifted their hands 
 to heaven and rendered praise to the Lord. They then 
 listened to the sermon, " not without fruit." Some went 
 peaceably to their homes ; others dropped in to hear " the 
 monk, much esteemed among the papists as a champion in 
 theology." 
 
 Thus far, no violence, no deaths, nothing but earnest ser- 
 m(ms, warm deliatcs and a few insults on both sides. The 
 bishoi), " who came out of season, went away without suc- 
 cess." He reported at Joinville that he had been abused, 
 wrote to the parliament of Paris, but gained nothing, for 
 the new edict of January was now in force. It gave the 
 people the right to meet outside the walls and in old barns 
 and houses. The faithful sent to Geneva for a pastor. Ln 
 due time Leonard Morel was settled over them.
 
 280 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 Antoinette de Bourl)on, mother of the Guises, grew im- 
 patient. She was delighted when her son, the duke, came 
 with his wife and six hundred armed men, from his mission 
 to the German princes. He and his greater brother had 
 been sent, after the colloquy of Poissy, to make good the old 
 alliances. The conference was held at Saverne. They half 
 promised to root out " the Huguenot heresy," and then 
 reform the French Church on the Lutheran model, adopt- 
 ing the Confession of Augsburg. Brentz heard the car- 
 dinal preach two sermons which Luther might have thought 
 orthodox, and he begged that the persecutions in France 
 might cease. "I will end them," replied the cardinal; add- 
 ing very solemnly, "I have never put a man to death on 
 account of his religion." The Duke of Guise backed up 
 the assertion, saying also, " We will do the Reformed no 
 injury." With these promises fresh in their minds they 
 had reached the castle, where their mother would test their 
 words.* The duke found letters waiting from the lieu- 
 tenant-general, Navarre, urging him to hasten to Paris. 
 Catherine also hinted that a goodly company of armed 
 men would be quite acceptable. The clearing out of all 
 Protestants from the court, council and cabinet had been 
 almost effected. " You can take Vassy on your way," sug- 
 gested the mother of Guise. " Those despisers of our holy 
 religion have grown insolent. They call us hard names" 
 (probably some of the indiscreet had spoken bitterly). 
 " You are too patient with them. Your reputation will 
 suffer by your lenience." 
 
 Francis of Guise was not so cruel nor so cowardly as to 
 
 * "If those furies (the Guises) lately made any dissembling prom- 
 ises at Saverne, the atrocious act which immediately followed has 
 revealed how deceitful all their flatteries were ; for scarcely had they 
 quitted the colloquy when they hurried to the perpetration of the most 
 barbarous massacre." — Calvin to Sturm, dcxxviii.
 
 THE WILES OF THE COURT. 281 
 
 sweep down with a ii'i^imcnt upon the Culvinists' barn ami 
 shed innocent blood without a show of provocation. He 
 wished, pcrliaps, to suj)prc.ss the Iveresy and let the heretics 
 live. We can afibrd to be so generous as to doubt whether 
 he was guilty of a premeditated design to massacre a de- 
 fenceless peoj)lc. The result was bad enough, at best, and 
 his crime had no good apology His intention ^vas, if De 
 Thou be correct, " to dissolve these conventicles of Protest- 
 ants, rather than to hurt anybody." On the first day of 
 March, 15G2, he and his huge retinue came near to Vassy. 
 Hearing a bell ringing at an unusual hour, he asked, "What 
 is the matter? Why that clangour?" 
 
 " It is to call the Huguenots together for their preach- 
 ing," was the re|)ly of a tavern-keeper. " March, march 
 on!" said the duke to his men. "We will see for what 
 they assemble." " We'll Huguenot them," boasted the 
 lacqueys who attended Guise, and who were intent upon 
 pillage. 
 
 The comi)any entered the town. At the market-place 
 the provost, the curate and the prior earnestly besought the 
 duke to turn off from the direct road and take the Protest- 
 ant barn on his way. One story is, that he and his guard 
 stopped at a hotel to dine and sent a band of men to visit 
 the Calvinist mccting-housc ; another is that he entered the 
 Roman church lor mass, his usual custom, and while there 
 he was annoyed by " the Protestant congregation roaring 
 out their psalms. The duke Avho, for the time had no 
 thought of using violence, sent a message entreating them 
 to be silent for a quarter of an hour ; mass would then be 
 over and they could sing as they jileased." * This is very 
 doubtful. His mind was hardly upon dinner or mass, but 
 upon suppressing the worship in the barn. Nor is it likely 
 that the Protestants yet knew that he was in the town. 
 
 * Froiule; La Popelini^re, D.-jniol. 
 
 24 K
 
 282 ADMIRAL rOLIGXV. 
 
 Their "louder peals" of song were not sent up to heaven to 
 provoke one of their liege-lords on earth. 
 
 In some way, sent or unsent, yet scarcely restrained, a 
 motley troop ran on before him, " incensed either by their 
 hatred or by their greediness for boety," and reache4 the 
 barn. Two German pages shouted out, " Dogs, rebels !" 
 Others took the cry, "Huguenots, heretics, rebels again.st 
 God and the king !" The door was shut against them, and 
 a more frantic howling and reviling began. The siege 
 must now be undertaken. 
 
 There was in the barn and al)out it a vast audience — 
 some report tliree thousand persons ; nine hundred of them 
 prepared to take the Lord's supper. The pastor, Leonard 
 Morel, was engaged in public prayer for a poor people un- 
 armed, unsuspicious of evil, and not expecting a scene of 
 blood and death. 
 
 "In whom do you believe?" was the question put to a 
 poor man who helped to guard the door. " I believe in 
 Jesus Christ," was the heroic answer. He was cut down 
 on the spot. Two others fell beside him. The Protestants 
 outside began to look about for means of self-defence, seiz- 
 ing what came nearest. Then the door was pushed back ; 
 not, surely, " half in sport ;" it was broken open ; a baud 
 of soldiers " rushed in by main strength and struck with 
 their naked swords as many as came in their way, few of 
 them making any resistance." Outside retorts were made 
 by some Protestants ; blows were exchanged and missiles 
 hurled until the air grew thick with them. 
 
 Meanwhile the Duke of Guise came near, sword in hand. 
 He was struck in the face with a random stone. Did he 
 then give the order to fall upon the Protestants and slay 
 them ? Perhaps not ; it was unnecessary. The murderers 
 were already at their work. They were the more enraged 
 at seeing their chief wounded. They dashed at once upon
 
 TIIK WILES OF TIIK ("OUKT. 283 
 
 the whole assembly, cutting down uh^ii, women and children, 
 who could not resist. "A mere huddled and shrieking 
 crowd were easy victims." Out of the windows over the 
 roof they sought to escape, but were shot down. If the 
 duke sought, too late, to restrain his men, the work did not 
 cease until sixty had been killed and two hundred wounded. 
 "I cannot think," says the moderate Lacratelle, "that the 
 Ihike of Guise wished such a great effusion of blood ; but 
 he evidently sought a tumult. He who, in such a case, 
 does not prevent a massacre gives proof that he encourages 
 violent deeds." 
 
 The roar of the tumult was heard by Anne, the wife of 
 Guise, as she was borne on in advance along the direct 
 road. "Suspecting what had happened," says De Thou, 
 " and being of a meek temper, having learned from her 
 mother, the Duchess of Ferrara, not to hate the Protest- 
 ants, she at once sent a messenger to the duke, beseeching 
 him to spare the lives of so many wretched people." Hers 
 seems the only voice that pleaded for mercy out of all the 
 princely company. 
 
 The i)a.stor had preached on as long as he could. When 
 struck with a musket he fell on his knees and prayed for 
 himself, his friends and his foes. Throwing oft' his cloak, 
 he hoped to escape undetected. He was at length brought, 
 beaten and wounded, to Guise, who said, "Ha! are you the 
 minister? How can you delude these people ? You have 
 caused the death of these victims." 
 
 " 1 preach the gospel of the Lord — " 
 
 " Does the gospel preach sedition ? You shall be lianged 
 at once." Morel was delivered over to the duke's servants, 
 but of all those cut-throats not one was willing to execute 
 the barbarous order. The delay saved his life. Yet he 
 suffered a cruel imprisonment, when starvation almost 
 brought death.
 
 284 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 During the carnage, it is said, the Bible was brought 
 from the pulpit to the duke. He took it to his brother, the 
 cardinal, Louis of Guise, and said, " See the titles of these 
 Huguenot books." Testaments and Psalms were also 
 brought and burned. 
 
 *' There is not much harm in these," was the reply. 
 "This is the holy Scriptures." 
 
 " How !" said the duke with an angry oath. " The holy 
 Scriptures! It is fifteen hundred years and more since they 
 were made, and these books have not been printed a year. 
 The book is good for nothing." 
 
 " My brother is wrong," said the cardinal, rebuking either 
 his ignorance or his fury, or both, together with his pro- 
 fanity. The duke was pacing up and down the barn floor, 
 biting his beard, as he did when in a rage. He summoned 
 the judge of the district and upbraided him for allowing 
 such meetings. The judge pleaded the last edict. "The 
 edict of January!" Guise exclaimed, putting his hand on 
 his sword ; " this steel shall speedily cut asunder this edict, 
 however tightly bound." * We remember his oath about 
 the edict of July. 
 
 The next day, when on his road to Paris, he was told 
 that the Huguenots of Vassy had sent complaints to the 
 king. " Let them go," said he with scorn ; "they will find 
 neither their admiral nor their chancellor." He counted 
 upon the removal of Coligny as a great victory. Still, he 
 had his soberer thoughts, and did not object when parlia- 
 ment sent to Vassy its president, Christopher De Thou 
 (father of the historian), a learned and just man, wealthy 
 and aristocratic, and said to have been the first citizen of 
 Paris, not of the nobility, who had a coach. He examined 
 into the afiair, and certainly did not exempt Guise from 
 blame. So anxious was the duke to save his character 
 * Davila.
 
 TUE WILES OF THE COURT. 285 
 
 from the atrocious cliarge that he obtained affidavits from 
 liis own party to show that the Protestants were the aggres- 
 sors. In his dying hour he dechvred that he was not the 
 author of the massacre. Had he not also denied that he 
 secured the imprisonment of Cond6? Even if not the de- 
 viser of a plot, he had a large share in the guilt of bringing 
 about the massacre, which was " the signal of a civil war, 
 the most bloody of any in the memoi^ of nations."
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Tn£ Zri'JtISIXG OF THE HTJOVENOTS. 
 (1362.) 
 
 ANEW period opens — that of the resistance. It begins 
 in a chaos of bloodshed. It I'uns into the civil wars. On 
 the part of the Huguenots it is marked by the organization 
 of an army and by an arrest upon the advance of the 
 Church. The sword glitters ; piety declines. " Because 
 iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold." 
 
 Catherine was at jNIonceaux, an undefended chateau near 
 Paris, trying to save herself and her regal son from the 
 Triumvirate. Conde was in Paris, with his eyes opened to 
 the fact that he had been sadly befooled by those who 
 wished to scatter his party to the winds and ruin all his 
 hopes. The scales fell when Coligny was thrown out of the 
 councils and when the horrors of Vassy caused him to 
 sh udder. Other massacres were fast succeeding. To heaven 
 rose the cry that God would send a deliverer upon earth. 
 He imagined that he was the man. Not yet would he and 
 Coligny act together under one policy. The one was qHite 
 ready to draw the sword, the other was housed at Chatillon, 
 waiting for the mightier Arm to be made bare. 
 
 Theodore Beza led a commission to Monceaux, appeared 
 before the council and demanded the punishment of the 
 murderers at Vassy. If the Duke of Guise and his follow- 
 ers went free, then law was at an end. Edicts were but 
 dust in the eyes of the people, under cover of which the 
 papists might fall upon every Huguenot barn, or temple, or 
 
 2S6
 
 THE iriJISIXG OF THE HUGUENOTS. 287 
 
 house througliout the land. Beza grew eloquent as he told 
 how liundreds of Protestants were perisliing, "stubbed, 
 stoned, beheaded, strangled, burned, starved to death, 
 drowned and buried alive." The council was silent at 
 the dreadful recital, until Antony of Navarre attempted a 
 defence. "They threw stones at my brother of Guise. 
 Princes were not made to be stoned. . . . Mark me ! 
 Whoso shall touch but the end of his finger shall touch 
 my whole body." Aside he muttered that Beza ought to 
 be hanged. 
 
 " Let the duke point out tlie authors of the outrage," was 
 the reply. " It is in truth, Sire, becoming the Church of 
 C4od to receive blows — not to give them. Yet remember 
 that it is an anvil which has worn out many a hammer."* 
 
 Catherine intervened. She ordered Guise to appear at 
 court without an armed guard, and St. Andre to retire into 
 the Lyonnais and take charge of his government. But 
 her will was nothing. St. Andre and Montmorency rode 
 away to meet Guise and his train, as if to give welcome to 
 a conqueror. 
 
 And Guise was coming. The tramp of his six hundred 
 horsemen was almost heard at the gates. JMight he not 
 sweep down upon the Protestants, who were still holding 
 vast meetings outside the walls? They had their "Jerusa- 
 lem." The marshal, Francis JNlontmorency, advised them 
 to adjourn for a few days, lest there should be a riot ; but 
 the ministers replied, " This would be confessing that we 
 
 * Hist, do nCglise; ^foiu. del Ciisteliiau. "Our brotlier IJoza is 
 exercised with hard trials. By the treachery of Jiilian [Beza's name 
 for Antony], he narrowly escaped, a short time ago, from being drag- 
 ged to execution, along with many others ; but God miraculously 
 brought to naught such infamous attempts." — Calvin to Pela- Marlt/r, 
 IGlh March, 1562. The latter died at Zurich in tiie following Sep- 
 tember.
 
 288 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 are in the wrong." They asked for a royal guard to pro- 
 tect their assemblies. Beza preached, wearing a breastplate, 
 while Conde and about four hundred armed gentlemen 
 formed the outer circle of worshippers. It was a time of 
 peril. The wife of Montmorency was saying to the proud 
 old baron, "Defend the faith" — which meant, "Destroy the 
 Huguenots." But her sou was marshal of Paris, and we 
 always find him a moderate man. 
 
 On the afternoon of March 20th, Conde was returning 
 from "Jerusalem," followed by an immense train of people, 
 when he came upon the Duke of Guise and his brilliant 
 retinue.* A clash was expected ; but the two chiefs coolly 
 saluted each other and passed on their way. Guise had 
 entered the St. Denis gate — one designed for kings — and as 
 he rode through the streets he was hailed by the people 
 with loud shouts: "Vive le Guise! the hero of Vassy, the 
 defender of the faith, the Joshua who slays the Canaauites, 
 the Judas Maccabeus of his age !" Montmorency and 
 St. Andre were at his side, a sign of government favour. 
 The citizens crowded about his horse; they kissed his robes; 
 they rushed to his hotel ; they offered him large sums of 
 money for " the wars of religion." But he was cool ; and 
 well he might be, for he was master of the situation. He 
 sent his compliments to Conde, with the offer of his ser- 
 vices, whose full value the prince was at no loss to under- 
 stand. It was a strange and alarming sight: two rival 
 chiefs in one city, each having a strong force about him, 
 his hotel in a state of defence, and resolved not to yield an 
 
 * "Now, thougli that apostate has stimraoned the Guises to court 
 [not Paris], in order to introduce extreme measures, yet Beza trusts 
 tliat the Church will be so increased that they will not dare attempt 
 anything afterward. The first collision is to be dreaded, unless God 
 come to our aid. Serious threats and terrors everywhere hang over 
 us." — Calvin to refer Martyr, lOth March, 1562.
 
 THE IPRISINC OF THE IIUOUENOTS. 289 
 
 inch, nor to let pass any insult. Catherine advised, or 
 commanded, them to retire. Guise could afford to do it, 
 for he held the very souls of the people : from that day 
 Paris contijiued to be a Guiseau city. But for Conde to 
 forsake capital and court seemed to be his utter ruin. It 
 was his own brother Antony who dislodged him. 
 
 The prince saw no hope, no help. His fortunes were at 
 the lowest ebb. He might, peril ap.s, have held Paris if his 
 friends had supported him in season. Beza a&serts that the 
 rich members of the Church in Paris had not come forward 
 with the needed funds ; that courier on courier failed to 
 rouse the admiral out of his castle ; and that the Huguenot 
 nobles preferred to take refuge in their provincial homes.* 
 Yet he led out of the capital nearly one thousand followers, 
 and fixed his quarters at Meaux, some thirty miles eastward 
 from Paris. Thence he wrote to Coligny: " Not want of 
 courage, but want of support, has constrained me to leave 
 the capital. I conjure you to hasten and join us with such 
 troops as you can muster. Casar has pa.s.sed the Rubicon, 
 has seized Rome, and his standards are already waving in 
 the field." Guise was Csesar, Vassy the Rubicon, and Conde 
 was the wandering Pompey. 
 
 Why did not Conde dash upon Monceaux, seize Cath- 
 erine and the king, and thus wrest the government from 
 the usurpers and have it all upon his side? He did not 
 know how acceptable that would be to the queen-mother. 
 
 * La None justifies the prince for not trying to hold Paris, because 
 there were against him the judges, the clergy, the parliament, the city 
 authorities and the populace. Besides his three or four hundred gen- 
 tlemen there were only about as many university students, and still 
 fewer of the bourgeois. " Wliat were these against so many ? A 
 mouse against an elephant! They lield their own, however, until the 
 lords and princes (Guises) forced them to throw up the game. It was 
 doubtless a high and generous design to endeavour to establish the 
 gospel in Paris, but with such a poverty of means it was impossible." 
 Vol. I.— 25
 
 290 ADMlliAL COLIGNY. 
 
 Besides, he had no plot to overturn the administration. 
 "I was present," says La None, who had dropped his books 
 and taken arms, "and I affirm that there was no premed- 
 itation. INIost of the nobles had l)een more intent upon se- 
 curing religious liberty than upon providing for the defence 
 of their religion. Yet, having heard of the massacre of 
 Vassy, and urged, partly by good-will, partly by fear, they 
 resolved to come near to Paris, imagining that their pro- 
 tectors might have need of them. Thus the chief of them 
 set out from the provinces, some with twenty or thirty 
 friends, carrying arms concealed and lodging in the hostels 
 or fields, paying their way until they joined the princii^al 
 body. Many have assured me that these motives alone put 
 them in motion, and I have heard the prince and the ad- 
 miral confess the same." Had there been a Renaudie 
 among them, the king might have been in the power of the 
 Huguenots. 
 
 AVhy did not Catherine throw herself and children into 
 the hands of Conde? She evidently saw her mistake in 
 allowing the Triumvirs to seize the government and Guise 
 to hold Paris. But Conde would be declared a rebel, and 
 she dared not risk such an escape from the Guisean tyranny. 
 On the side of the oppressors there was power, and if she 
 voluntarily took the part of the Huguenots, Rome and 
 Spain would crush them all together. If Conde would only 
 take her and the king by surprise, it would be a relief. She 
 took secret flight to Melun, and thence sent messages to the 
 prince in such terms that he would take his commission : 
 " You will take care to preserve the mother, the children 
 and the kingdom for him whom it concerns. . . . You will 
 aid me in preserving the royal authority of my son from 
 the greatest enemy that you or France can have." *■ The 
 
 * " What a fine thing to be a Florentine !" says Laval, referring to 
 the ease with wliich Catlierine explained away these letters afterward.
 
 TiiK T rinsixc OF Tin-: jitguenots. 291 
 
 prince made good use of the letters sent him, and when the 
 Huguenot nohles reiid them, they thought they were not 
 simply defending their own cause, hut the very crown. 
 Beza says, "They will serve as a testimony to posterity that 
 this prince undertook the war for the defence of religion 
 and at the express desire of the said lady." This, then, 
 was one ohject — to rescue the royal family from the 
 usurpers. 
 
 But he must have an army to hold the king when he 
 should posse-^s him. What of the admiral? For a month 
 he had been at Chatillon, plunged in the deepest grief, and 
 "avoiding the sight of every human being." A civil war 
 had horrors which must, if possible, be averted. Visitors 
 came — his two brothers, Briquemaut and some of the 
 leading Protestant nobles. They pleaded the dishonour 
 of deserting the prince and of allowing the massacres to 
 run on unchecked. The people looked to him for their 
 protection. 
 
 " But where are your means of war — your arsenals, your 
 ammunition, your money? Shall we not rather wait in 
 patience for better times, take such shelter as the laws 
 afford, and pray God to avert the woes which threaten us? 
 Think liow rapidly our Ciuirch has grown and what perse- 
 cution it has endured. The blood of the martyrs, instead 
 of crying aloud for vengeance, has been the seed of the 
 Church, growing most when most harrowed and ploughed 
 by our foes." Coligny shook the minds of these strong 
 men, and quite won them over to his own views of non- 
 resistance. 
 
 The wife of the admiral heard these conversations. She 
 
 They are finuul in Mcin. de C'oiuk'. In tlic Vic de Diiplessis Moinny, 
 written by his wife, she tells us tiirit her fii-st luisbaud bore some of 
 the messages, and that he was ordered to beg Conde to " be the pro- 
 tector of the mother and the child."
 
 292 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 knew the struggles* in his soul, and almost wished herself 
 a Deborah that she might rouse the heroes to defend the 
 country and the true Church. One night, two hours after 
 he had fallen asleep, he was awakened by her heavy sighs, 
 and he asked the cause. " It is with great regret, sir," she 
 replied, "that I trouble you with my anxieties, but, seeing 
 the members of the body of Christ thus cruelly torn in 
 pieces, shall we, who are of his body, remain insensible? 
 You do feel them, I know, with all your strength to conceal 
 your feelings ; but blame not your faithful wife if she seem 
 to have more confidence than respect and pour the flood of 
 her sorrows into your bosom." 
 
 The admiral was reminded that while he was resting 
 amid comforts, some of his Christian brethren were lying in 
 dungeons, some in the bare fields with the storm beating 
 upon them, and some dying under the most cruel tortures. 
 He urged that war might only increase the number of 
 sufferers. " Your argument leaves your brothers hopeless," 
 she said. "It does not show a strong faith in God. He 
 has given you the genius of a great captain ; how can you 
 refuse to employ it for the relief of his children ? You 
 have confessed the justice of their cause. Sir, my heart 
 bleeds for our slaughtered brethren. Their blood cries to 
 Heaven, and Heaven will cry against you if any jierish 
 whom you might have saved. You have told me that your 
 conscience keeps you from sleep. It is God's preacher. 
 "What account will you render in doomsday ?" 
 
 Coligny had one more appeal. " Lay your hand on your 
 heart," said he, " and tell me — could you receive the news 
 of a sad defeat without a murmur against God or a reproach 
 upon your husband ?" 
 
 * " I do not estimate the external struggles in which he (Coligny) 
 was engaged, by any means, so highly as those he endured within. 
 The former were the lot of every man living." — Ranke.
 
 THE UPRISJ.NC OK TIIK II ('(iUENOTS. 293 
 
 " I could. But why aij}' I'eur of defeat? You have often 
 boasted of the strength of the Protestants." No man knew 
 that strcngtli butter than Coligijy. 
 
 " Are you prepared to endure the opprobrium of your 
 enemies, the reproaches of your friends, the treachery of 
 partisans, the curses of the people — confiscation, flight, exile 
 — the insolence of the English, the (piarrels of the Germans 
 • — shame, poverty, hunger and, what is more, the sufferings 
 of your children ? Are you j)repared to see your husband 
 branded as a rebel and dragged to a scaffold, while your 
 children are disgraced and begging their bread of their 
 enemies, or serving them as scullions and slaves? I give 
 you eight days to reflect upon it, and when you are prepared 
 for such reverses then I will march." 
 
 "The eight days are already expired," was the heroic 
 answer. " Go, sir, where duty calls. Do not put hope in 
 your enemy's virtue ; make use of your own. Heaven will 
 give you victory."* It is said by some writers that Co- 
 ligny was entreated by Catherine to haste to the rescue, 
 and that he said, "This is enough to shield me from the 
 charge that I am taking up arms to advance religion by 
 war." 
 
 The next morning he mounted his horse, collected his 
 tenants, mustered what troops he could, took the road to 
 Meaux, joined the prince and, with no little emotion, read 
 the words on his banner : " It is sweet to brave danger for 
 Christ and our country." 
 
 Nothing but a great cause could have united two such 
 men as Conde and Coligny. They had differed hitherto ; 
 they would differ to the last, and yet heartily support each 
 other. Conde was nervous, buoyant, at court frivolous, in 
 
 * " 1 ilo not give tliis as a fal»iiloiis oniaiiu-iit, l)iit as a lact tliat I 
 have hecn tolil by tlie very persons coneerneil.'' — I>'Aul)iijne, JltKt. 
 Universelle. There is, however, some doubt ca.Ht vipou the story. 
 25 «
 
 294 ADMIRAL C'OIJCXV. 
 
 ciimp as ardent for combat as ever he had been for pleasure. 
 The little man, who ever talked and ever smiled, whose 
 humour was altogether Frc^ich, was loved by his soldiers. 
 His peculiar liveliness and enthusiasm -were imparted to 
 the whole rank and file under his command ; they caught 
 his spirit; their force was doubled. AVith him, impulse 
 was genius ; the impression of the moment was his best. 
 Valorous as a warrior, he still lacked the moral firmness 
 essential in a Christian. He fought rather from hatred of 
 tyranny than love for the Protestant faith. " He was," 
 says Brantome, " ambitious rather than religious." Easily 
 provoked into a war, he was quite as readily persuaded into 
 a peace. In attempting to manage a royal cabinet, he 
 taught an intriguing court how to manage him. 
 
 Coligny was almost the reverse — thoughtful, cautious, de- 
 voted to a principle, suspicious of an impulse, directed by 
 conscience and mindful of his responsibility to his king, his 
 country and his God. His was the material of which the 
 serious Huguenot, Puritan and Covenanter were made. 
 More like Cromwell than like Conde, he would have been 
 at the head of the ai'my what Calvin was at the head of the 
 lieformed Church. The word " discipline" thrice given 
 would have been his three rules of warfare. His love for 
 it left no space for ease to a wild, reckless, unruly soldier. 
 Success in battle, he thought, depended as much on obedi- 
 ence as upon courage; his mode was not to raise a yell, 
 make a rush and sweep all before him ; the living hurricane 
 should move according to laws. Not so impulsive as Conde, 
 he had a persistence not found in the Bourbons. Although 
 trained under his raving, swearing, mass-lipping old uncle, 
 he went calmly to his work and coolly finished it. A 
 victory did not exalt him more than a defeat cast him down. 
 If Conde could electrify an army at the approach of a 
 battle, Coligny was the man to fortify it at the moment of
 
 THE UPRISING OF THE HfGUEXOTS. *29.J 
 
 a rout. Tlie;?e were great qualities, liut lliaL which maile 
 his character grand in that age was his profouii<l faith, his 
 simple love of" truth, hi^^ high morality, his devotedne.ss to the 
 right, his hidden life with God. " He was," Castelnau tells us, 
 "one of the first officers of the crown, and worthy, for his great 
 abilities, to be at the head of any ])arty. And, as he was 
 more devoted to his religion than other peo])le, he acted 
 the censor among the young nobles and gentry, curbing 
 their unruly passions by a certain severity which was natural 
 and becoming." Of all the Huguenot chiefs he was the 
 lion-hearted, and neither wife, nor comrade, nor king could 
 ever charge him with infidelity.* 
 
 As the troops increased every day, Conde thought of 
 dashing upon Paris and holding it for the king. " Nay," 
 said Coligny, "that city is so devoted to Guise just now 
 that it would require all our soldiers to keep down the citi- 
 zens. My plan is to form a line of defence upon the Loire 
 and hold all Southern France." He knew that the great 
 strength of Protestantism lay south of the river. This 
 plan was adopted.f 
 
 Orleans was chosen as the central })oint and the chief 
 rendezvous. It seems that Catherine was to go thither and 
 be taken in that city, whose coramumlant was "neither Cath- 
 olic nor Huguenot," waiting to see what side she would 
 choose. She was now on the way at Fontainebleau. An- 
 delot was sent to capture it, six days after the encampment 
 at Meaux. Conde and Coligny were to stay the advance 
 of the enemy, or seize the king if he were still delayed. 
 
 It was too late. Tlie Guises had taken the matter in 
 hand. The old Montmorency and Navarre had frightened 
 Catherine by coming suddenly to Fontainebleau with a 
 strong force. The pope's agent had moved them. " I came 
 here" (Paris), wrote St. Croix, " to urge them to visit her 
 * Puaux ; Braiitome. \ Lacratelle.
 
 296 ADMIRAL COLKJNV. 
 
 majesty in litiste, and hinder the Bishop of Valence, who is 
 ever at her ear, from persuading her to take some extraor- 
 dinary step. They hope to prevent her from going to 
 Orleans." Catherine resisted, saying, " Deserted and be- 
 trayed as I am, I shall defend my son, your king." 
 
 Guise drew Antony aside and said, laughingly, "She 
 resist! "Wliat do we care for her? She can stay or quit 
 the country, just as she likes ; it is nothing to us." Antony 
 returned and told her that she could do as she pleased, but 
 that he was the projjer guardian of the king, and he should 
 conduct Charles to a place of safety. He ordered the royal 
 apartments to be dismantled and the furniture removed, for 
 in those days the carpets and tapestry were carried about 
 with the court. Old Montmorency was swearing and beat- 
 ing the servants ; Catherine was smothering her grief, hold- 
 ing the weeping Charles by the hand, and completely a 
 prisoner. Some confidential attendant slid into her room 
 and she whispered, " Ride post haste and tell Conde to 
 rescue us on the road." It was a sad journey to Melun, to 
 the castle of Vincennes and to Paris, into which Guise led 
 the royal family only eight days after his triumphal entry 
 from Vassy. Charles was in tears half the time ; his 
 mother said not a word. She had still clearer light upon 
 the designs of the Triumvirs, if we may credit the story 
 that she overheard St. Andre advise his colleagues to tie 
 her in a sack and throw her into the river. This decided 
 her speedy conversion to their policy. It is more probable 
 that she saw on which side the greater power lay, and self- 
 interest is always sufficient to account for her conduct. 
 What is certain is, that she was no longer a friend to the 
 Huguenots. 
 
 The prince and Coligny struck across to St. Cloud, but 
 there learned that Catherine and her son were just beyond 
 their grasp. On hearing the news, Conde checked hia
 
 THE UPRISING OF THE IIUGUEXOTS. 297 
 
 liurse, sat for some moments in deep thought and said, aa 
 the admiral rode up, "We have jilungcd in so deep that we 
 must drink or drown." They drew the rein and took the 
 road to Orleans. At Angeville the prince had a fresh 
 letter from Catherine, and he lingered there for several 
 hours. A messenger came saying, " Hasten ! Tiie troops 
 of Guise are getting ahead of you." The cavaliers sprang 
 into their saddles, and two thousand men went galloping to 
 the gates of the town, the best mounted running over the 
 rest. The peasants laughed at the sight. They saw the 
 road covered with hats, cloaks, portmanteaus, crippled ser- 
 vants, lamed horses, and all that might be flung away in 
 the race ; " and they imagined," says La None, " that all 
 the madmen of France were sweeping over. the earth like 
 the winds of Languedoc." It was well, for "by these new 
 forces the town, which was of the utmost consequence, fell 
 into their hands." As the prince rode through the streets 
 they were lined with expectant Huguenots, singing psalms 
 of joy and welcome. Vive V Evungile ! was the shout. 
 
 "And what of us?" asked the Roman ("atholics, who 
 suspected a sacking and a butchery. " You shall be safe," 
 replied the prince; "your governor shall still retain his 
 command." But this officer declined, saying, "AVhere 
 there is a prince of the blood, it is not reasonable that a 
 simple gentleman should command the city." The j)la('e 
 was well chosen. A rich country lay around it, and it was 
 a central refuge for tlie Huguenots. 
 
 The Prince of Conde was elected general-in-cliicl", but 
 all minds were turned upon Adniii-al Coligny as the man 
 of more ^si)iritual strength. His first care was to secure a 
 powerful union for the defence of religion. A jiaper was 
 drawn — a sort of Solemn League and Covenant. It was to 
 be adopted with religious services. A sermon was preached. 
 The Lord's supper was administered and the presence of
 
 298 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 the Captain of their salvation invoked. Then the Calvinist 
 chiefs took a solemn oath to maintain the alliance, and 
 gravely signed the document, the name of the prince being 
 first subscribed. These nobles were among the noblest in 
 France. Among them were many relatives of Conde ; the 
 three Chatillons were uncles of his wife; Antony Croye, 
 Prince of Porcien, the husband of his niece; La Rochefou- 
 cauld, the greatest baron of Poitou, was his brother-in-law, 
 and the Rohans were his cousins. Count de Gramraont 
 had led up six thousand Gascons ; Montgomery, whose 
 lance struck Henry 11., came with the Normans ; Rohan 
 led the Dauphinese ; Genlis the Picards. Andelot brought 
 five hundred Bretons, and Soubise an array from the ocean 
 shores. Perhaps more than one of these chieftains had 
 heard the call from a high quarter. Count la Rochefou- 
 cauld had received a letter from Catherine. " It came 
 when he was walking in his great hall at Verteul," says his 
 secretary, De INIergey. " He read it, leaned for some time 
 at his window, and then asked me what he should do. 
 Being pressed for an answer, I said, ' Do as your queen and 
 king command you.' He smiled, saying, 'Such is my de- 
 termination.' He summoned his friends, and in fifteen days 
 took the field with nearly three hundred gentlemen and 
 their trains, and with this fine troop he found the prince at 
 Orleans." 
 
 What was there requiring their solemn oath ? To what 
 did they swear? That they had only the honour of God 
 before their eyes, that they sought to liberate the king and 
 queen from the Triumvirate, that they would maintain the 
 edict of January, that they wished to punish only those 
 who had wantonly violated it, that they would endeavour 
 to prevent all blasphemy, violence, pillage, and all acts for- 
 bidden by the law of God, that they would support among 
 them good and faithful ministers, who should teach them
 
 Tin; I ruisiN(; of tiii: Jir(;r knots. 299 
 
 God's will, and that, fur these ol)jcct.s, they would employ 
 their bodies, their properties and their very last drop of 
 blood. Their league should continue only until the young 
 king attained his majority. So soon as he was of age they 
 would submit to him in all obedience. They appointed 
 Conde, being a prince of the blood, the protector and de- 
 fender of the Protestant religion, and swore to obey him 
 so long as he should follow the advice of his three councils. 
 Among the chief of tlie first council were the admiral and his 
 two brothers, for Cardinal Odet was now a firm Protestant. 
 
 " Maintain the January edict and stop these terrible 
 massacres," was the real point of the demand. It was still 
 a law, but rudely violated even by Montmorency, the man 
 who pretended to revere law. It was this widespread out- 
 rage upon those for whom the edict was framed that caused 
 the uprising of the Protestants. It was not that they sought 
 to put down Romanism ; not to propagate their own faith 
 by the sword ; not to promote intolerance. It was in self- 
 defence. It was for the law, and, as they claimed, for the 
 king. " Liberty of worship was the sole object they sought," 
 says Lacratelle. " If that had been granted, they would 
 not have risen. Francis of Guise made all the trouble, by 
 swearing to cut that edict in pieces, and by violently seizing 
 upon the king and queen. This l)rought up Cond6 and 
 Coligny as the avengers of an infant king. This caused 
 the first war of religion. Catherine de Medici, by her per- 
 fidy, furnished the pretext for the second and third. This 
 edict of January appeal's often ; it is the eternal pivot on 
 which turns every sincere plan of peace."* 
 
 Coligny revived his rules of military discipline. So 
 
 strictly were the plundering of houses and the pillage of 
 
 churches forbidden that his own eyes were often upon the 
 
 watch. One night the great church at Orleans was entered 
 
 * Lacrattllo, Ilistoiio cU- France, xviii. Sioclc; Resume.
 
 300 ADMIllAL COLIGNY. 
 
 and the work of" destruction began. Coligny and Cond6 
 hastened to the spot in order to quell the disorders. The 
 prince saw a Huguenot standing on a ladder ready to break 
 an image, and pointed an arquebuse at him. "My lord," 
 .said the soldier, " have patience till I break this idol and 
 then let me die, if you will." Such coolness proved that 
 the man went at his image-breaking with a good conscience. 
 
 Coligny suggested the plan of attaching to each regiment 
 a chaplain, who should recite prayers aloud every morning 
 and evening preach the word of God and exhort both chiefs 
 and soldiers to observe good morals and Christian principles. 
 Cromwell was not the first military chieftain who cultivated 
 a religious enthusiasm in his army. Never was there a 
 braver body of men than " the white coats" of the admiral, 
 and, so long as they were under him, there was never a 
 better-conducted band. We are told that his manner was 
 imposing, his gravity checked officers from immorality and 
 his severity was a restraint upon the soldiers. 
 
 " Their modest behaviour was beyond example," is the 
 testimony of the Romanist Varillas. " Each company in 
 this army had its minister, and daily prayer was said 
 throughout the camp. Their songs were psalms. When 
 they played they played for sport, and blasphemy was never 
 heard among them, l^ofilles clejoie, as among the Catho- 
 lics, loitered in their tents." It reminds us of the army of 
 King David in contrast with that of Absalom. Lacratelle 
 also speaks of " the touching character of the ordinary 
 prayers* used by the soldiers in the army of Conde. No 
 doubt Theodore Beza composed them, and they do more 
 credit to his talent and his heart than all his controversial 
 writings." This author quotes the prayer to be used by a 
 soldier on guard, a part of which is : " We pray thee for 
 all our court, for our young king and sovereign prince. 
 * M^ra. de Cond^.
 
 THE UrillSING OF TIIK HUGUENOTS. oOl 
 
 May it please thee to bless his youth and preserve him 
 amid the perils that now surround him through the evil 
 schemes of the enemies of the crown and the peace of this 
 kingdom. Do thou give him grace to favour his true and 
 loyal subjects and servants, and to seek thy glory in all 
 things. Be merciful to his brothers, his mother the queen, 
 the princes of the blood, and to all the true lords of the 
 council." And yet these were the men so often branded as 
 " rebels and infidels, worse than Turks." 
 
 By Coligny's rules there was a terrible penalty upon the 
 soldiers who " oppressed the poor commons." La None 
 attirms that on their marches these Huguenots " neither 
 despoiled nor misused their hosts, but paid honestly for all 
 they took, ... Of the Catholics I will say that, at the be- 
 ginning, they were likewise well ordered, and did not much 
 annoy the commons." 
 
 The call had gone secretly forth through the land for all 
 the Huguenots to furnish men and money. The responses 
 from the two thousand churches were cheering. Old sol- 
 diers of St. Quentin and Calais marched to Orleans. Cas- 
 tles, towns, cities and districts declared for the prince, and 
 that almost on the same day. One may take the map, and 
 with Orleans in the centre of France, and with the Loire 
 as the great line of defence, glance al the strongholds. On 
 the river were Orleans, Blois, Tours, Angers and Nantes ; 
 then southward were Poitiers, La Rochelle, Montauban, 
 and indeed those wide regions of Gascony and Navarre, 
 and the old Albigensian districts stretching from Toulouse 
 to Nismes, up to Lyons and over into Dauphiny. Then on 
 the north were Havre, Caen, Dieppe, Rouen, Troyes and 
 C'halons ; and eastward were open roads for bringing troops 
 from the lands beyond the Rhine. What an army might 
 those Huguenots put into the field ! 
 
 But the enemy was striking everywhere. " The blood- 
 VoL. I.— 26
 
 302 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 bath of Vassy"* was repeated, and most of the Protestants 
 had enough to do to defend their own homes. Some have 
 thought that the massacres of 1562 were as bloodv as those 
 of the St. Bartholomew, ten years hiter. They made the 
 Iluguonot uprising ahnost purely defensive. At any hour 
 the Bible-reader might have his doors broken down, his 
 house robbed, his family butchered, his dwelling burned ; 
 or the temple where he sang his psalms might be assaulted, 
 and he might be slaughtered along with his pastor and his 
 brethren. There was no protection in the laAV, in the edicts, 
 in the governirient, nor in the word of a king. Even flight 
 to other lands was an exposure to thieves and murderers. 
 What could he do? Lie resistless? Human convictions 
 arid ethics, if not the gospel", forbade it, when death was the 
 almost inevitable result. Recant, apostatize and go to mass? 
 His conscience forbade it; he abhorred the hypocrisy. Take 
 up arms, not on a private account, but for the public good ? 
 That seemed to be the only remedy ; a war in the name of 
 God and for the highest of all human rights. 
 
 Not that every Huguenot lifted his banner in God's 
 name, for political motives controlled too many. INIulti- 
 tudes sprang to arms under excitement. In some instances 
 they went beyond the peaceable capture of their own towns, 
 but rarely, if ever, without provocation ; and we should 
 remember that in every Huguenot congregation there were 
 many who were not professors of religion. The town of 
 Valence, below ^lontauban, on the Garonne, was already 
 in the hands of the Protestants. Guise ordered La Mothe- 
 Gondrin, who was governor of Dauphiny, to seize it. But 
 his force was not strong enough to hold it, so that the next 
 day the Huguenots of the district fell upon the town, set 
 fire to the house of the Papal captor, drove him out, slew 
 him and several of his party. Among the slain was a pro- 
 
 * iSoldiin, Uobcliichtc de.s Prot. in Fruiikreich : Leijizig, 1855.
 
 THI-: UPRISING or TllK 11 UCl' KNOTS. 303 
 
 vost, Oil wlioni was i'uiiud a letter i'roiu Gui.se ordering liim 
 " to massacre all the gospellers, old and young." 
 
 In Lyons the two parties had long been struggling for 
 tlie mastery. Tlie Protestants were strong. One day in 
 June, 15G1, a Huguenot had his hatred against idolatry 
 aroused by seeing a priest carrying " the host," and he tried 
 to snatch it away. There was a riot at once. The cry arose, 
 " Down with tlie heretics ! Throw them into the Rhone !" 
 and the lihone was soon bearing many of them to the sea. 
 This was the prelude. The horrors of Vassy were enough 
 to rouse the spirits of those who still remained. But the 
 Romanists took that massacre as. their signal, and on the 
 night of April 12, 15G2, they rose and murdered, in 
 cold blood, about a dozen people — a son taking the life 
 of his own mother. The governor brought more soldiers 
 into the city. Suspicious of evil, the Huguenots were re- 
 solved not to be defenceless, and they called in two hundred 
 men from the neighbouring towns. Some of Conde's sol- 
 diers came. The minister, Jacques Rufi, acted as a captain. 
 At the end of the month, when all was ready, twelve hun- 
 dred Protestants met by night in their temple, invoked the 
 blessing of the Highest, then marched Ibrth, made short 
 work, and in an almost bloodless way got the complete mas- 
 tery of the city. Only three persons were slain and three 
 wounded. But they followed this uj) with the sack of con- 
 vents and churches and the expulsion of all friars and nuns. 
 The mass was al)olishcd, liberty of conscience proclaimed 
 and a treaty made, by whicli the senate was to be com})osed 
 of twelve Huguenot and twelve Catholic membei's. Still 
 the excesses did not cease. And here we may listen to 
 Calvin, who wrote to " The Church at Lyons." He says : 
 " We have news that causes us great distress. We know 
 that in such disturbances it is difficult to hold the bridle so 
 tight as is desirable. But there are things insupportable,
 
 304 ADMIRAL C'OLIGNY. 
 
 Avliic'li we must rebuke, or be traitors to God, to you and to 
 Christianity itself. It is unbecoming for a minister to play 
 the trooper or captain, but it is even worse when one quits 
 the pulpit to carry ai'ms. Worst of all is it to go to the 
 governor of a town, pistol in hand, glorying in force, and 
 threaten him, saying, 'Sir, you must yield; we have the 
 power in our hands to compel you.' We tell you frankly 
 that this is as disgusting to us as the sight of a monster. 
 It grieves all who have any piety. Nor was this enough 
 for them ; they must scour the country, carrying off booty 
 and pillaging the cattle, even after the Baron des Adrets 
 arrived as governor. . . . We have been told that the 
 plunder from St. John's church was put up at auction. 
 True, M. Rufi had charge of these affairs, but you should 
 have checked him. If he does not submit, let him go where 
 he can erect a church apart. . . . Put an end to all these 
 acts of robbery."* So much for the great case so often 
 held up against the Protestants. We shall not now offset 
 it by a score of public outrages committed by the papists. 
 
 From the court side we have a picture, quite recently 
 brought to light and drawn by the confidential secretary of 
 Catherine for the eyes of the Fi-ench ambassador in Spain. 
 The "exchanger" is the King of Xavarre, who has turned 
 his coat and is held as the contemjDtible tool of those who 
 have deluded him. 
 
 "An infinite number of places have deserted our cause, 
 
 * Calvin's Letters, dcxxix. "As lo this destruction of images, I 
 can only repeat what I have always preached, that such proceedings 
 do not at all please me." — Bern. Of these acts of violence Castelnan 
 testifies : " The Prince of Cond^ was very angry at them, because they 
 were directly against the declaration which his party had issued, and 
 they might provoke the Catholics to rise with greater fury. He sent 
 orders to ail the cities that the January edict should be strictly 
 observe. I."
 
 THK LPitlSlNCJ or Till:: HUGUENOTS. 305 
 
 80 that the king is no longer obeyed ; at least the prince 
 (Concl(J) does not regard what is written from hence, and 
 he saya that he does everything for the king's service, and 
 that those around his majesty and the queen-mother detain 
 them as prisoners. In every town the greatest license pre- 
 vails. All the churches are ruined and the churchmen 
 driven away. Amidst this desolation, I leave you to im- 
 agine the murders, pillage and violence committed. They 
 (the Huguenots) hold the banks of the river (Loire) from 
 Kevers to Nantes, so that not a soul do they suffer to pass 
 without .searching him, seizing his letters and detaining the 
 king's moneys. . . . The queen-mother does all in her 
 power to settle affairs, but I know that it must be all in 
 vain. One faction insists on establishing a new religion ; 
 the other defends the old by fire and sword, at the expense 
 of the king's poor subjects and the ruin of the kingdom ; 
 and all through the counsels of that fine league.* . . . The 
 exchanger says that his Catholic majesty (Philip) must 
 send ten thousand infantry and three thousand cavalry to 
 our aid. . . . The queen-mother is made mad with rage, 
 perceiving that the kingdom is partly lost. She knows not 
 what security she can take for herself and her children ; 
 for she can expect nothing from the party now in the 
 ascendant, except their dominion over her. The exchanger 
 understands nothing, perceives nothing; it is not possible 
 for any man to act worse than he does. He knows not to 
 what saint to vow himself, and in these negotiations he is 
 turned by every wind. The Prince of Cond^ is at the head 
 of from .seven thousand to eight thousand horse ; and such 
 is the disposition here that, without the great favour of 
 
 * Between Pliilip of Spain and the French government at Peronne, 
 or the league foriiiod at Trent bv certain members of that Himous 
 oonncil. 
 
 26 «
 
 306 ADMIRAL COLIGNY, 
 
 God, it will not be long before we come to a hard en- 
 counter." * 
 
 Every courier brought woeful tidings to Cond6 ; every 
 refugee told of Huguenots beaten, driven from their homes 
 or murdered in the streets; every fresh band of troopers 
 reported the strategy by which they evaded the soldiers 
 sent out to waylay them, and many a nobleman told how 
 he had broken down his three or four horses on his ride to 
 Orleans. The city of fifty thousand inhabitants became a 
 refuge for women and children escaping from violence and 
 following husbands and fathers who had taken the field. 
 The Princess Eleanor, braving perils and sickness, brought 
 her eldest son to join the heroic Conde. Ministers enough 
 came from desolated parishes and from Geneva to fill up 
 Coligny's list of chaplains, and among them Theodore 
 Beza. The third national synod was held on the twenty- 
 fifth of April. The members of it did not smother their 
 patriotism while renewing their adoption of the confession 
 of faith. They prayed that God would keep his people 
 from taking revenge upon their persecutors and teach them 
 to love their enemies. But they could not rebuke the spirit 
 of self-defence which had turned many of their churches 
 into barracks or recruiting-offices. 
 
 Catherine had received a message from Cond^, stating 
 his reasons for extreme measures. She sent the Baron la 
 Garde to assure him that "she would never forget what he 
 might do for her and her son." But just when the messen- 
 gers of peace were in conference there came news of an 
 outrage at Sens, which caused the prince to say, "I cannot 
 lay down arms until those most cruel enemies are driven 
 out of France." He meant the Guises. It was said that 
 the Cardinal of Lorraine had instigated the rioters in that 
 city, of which he was archbishop. A Huguenot uttered his 
 * Freer, Life of Jeanne d'Albret.
 
 THK II'UISIXG OF THE IIUCJUKNOTS. .'>07 
 
 disgust at a Roinisli procession. The bells rang an<l the 
 mob revelled for three days in murder, sparing none of the 
 Keforined and ceasing only for want of victims. It is re- 
 lated that the child-king was one day playing in Paris on 
 the banks of the Seine, when he saw a dead body floating 
 by and asked what it was. "It is one of your majesty's 
 subjects coniing to demand justice," was the reply. The 
 silent appeal was not likely to reach his heart. St. Croix 
 wrote, "Since the massacre at Sens another great slaughter 
 of eighty Huguenots has happened, and .some thirty of their 
 liouses have been burnt in that city." Chantonnay's exult- 
 ing words went to Philip of Spain : " Already in many 
 parts of this kingdom the Catholics have rii^en against the 
 Huguenots, who have had the worst of it; and in some 
 l)laces the ])reachers were burnt in the market-place."* 
 
 "Lead us within sight of the enemy ; that is the best 
 way to negotiate," said Andelot. " March upon Paris," 
 said Coligny, who had arrested a courier with letters to the 
 court. "The Triumvirs have but a rabble in their hands, 
 whom a drum will scare. It is better to have the capital 
 than half the kingdom." Conde refused, and, perhaps, 
 wisely, for the king'.s forces were not so w'eak as represented. 
 Besides, he did not wish to ruin himself politically. He 
 ])roposed to keep on the defensive and send Andelot to 
 Germany for troops. 
 
 "I object," said Coligny. "This is a purely French 
 quarrel, and let Frenchmen settle it." He had great conii- 
 dence in the Huguenots. 
 
 " We must fight the enemy with his own weapons," said 
 the prince. "The three tyrants who hold the queen have 
 
 * De Thou fills jinji;cs witli tlie ma'^sacres at Amien-;, Senlis, ("ahors, 
 Caen, Meaux, Troves, Mous, Nevei-s, Anj^ers, Blois, Tours, Rouen, 
 Poitiers, Toulouse, Angoul^me, Anxerre, etc. See some contempora- 
 neous pamphlets in Mdm. de Cond(?.
 
 308 AD.MlltAL t'OLIGNY. 
 
 sent abruiul to Spain, to Home, to Holland and to the 
 Turks, for aught we know, for legions of soldiers." 
 
 "Then I yield to a military necessity," said Coligny. 
 Within the course of the summer Maligny went to England. 
 Queen Elizabeth was asked for aid. She offered to grant 
 it on condition that (Jalais should be restored to her; a price 
 too great for Frenchmen to pay. Her own secret agent, 
 Throgmorton, wrote to her, "Howsoever things fall out, it 
 standeth your majesty, for your own safety and reputation, 
 to be well ware that the Pi'ince of Conde and his followers 
 be not in this realm overthrown." She must do more than 
 sympathize and mediate. If Elizabeth stood by while the 
 Triumvirs cut the throats of the Huguenots, her own turn 
 would come next. Still more urgently was the subject 
 pressed upon the cool, calculating, half-Protestant queen. 
 At home Cecil was sketching the " Perils if the Prince of 
 Conde be overthrown. Philip of Spain and the Guises 
 ■would become the dictators of Europe ; Spain would have 
 Ireland (and Scotland too); the council of Trent would 
 pass a sweeping sentence against all Protestants, and the 
 English Catholics would rise in universal rebellion." All 
 gloomy enough, certainly, but yet Elizabeth was slow to 
 act. She must have Havre and Calais* as her reward. 
 She finally sent some men and money, but throughout the 
 whole contest proved very sparing in her supplies to her 
 Protestant friends. 
 
 Andelot went beyond the Phine, and in August wrote to 
 Calvin, saying, "Thank CJod, 1 have found so much favour 
 
 * In the treaty of Cateau-Cambray, the French promised, in certain 
 events, to restore Calais in 1557. It was a sort of peace-morsel tossed 
 to all parties. In case of a war between Koraanists and Protestants 
 in England, Elizabeth might unite them by crying, "Let us win 
 Calais." But could she unite the warring French now by demanding 
 Calais five years too soon? See Froudc; Burnet.
 
 THE UPRISING OF THK HUGUENOTS. 309 
 
 among the jji-inces [especially Philij) ul' Ilisse] that I hope 
 to lead back three thousand horse and as many lancers. 
 It was a long time before I brought them to favour my 
 views at all, and I had almost begun to despair. I trust 
 that our gracious God still wills to make use of human 
 moans to aid his Church." Far and wide rang the ajipeals 
 of Calvin, who now thought that if there must be a war, it 
 should be a good one. "I have feared lest I should have 
 to retract what I had written," was his word to ]Jullingor. 
 "Strain every nerve to procure troops from Berne, for if 
 the war be protracted any longer, we are completely ruined, 
 as well as the kingdom. Would they [the Huguenots] had 
 never left home! . . . One company has deserted to our 
 side; others have promised not to fight us. The French 
 cavalry is favourable to us, and that makes the (iuises very 
 uneasy."* 
 
 The veteran, Montmorency, had acted as a child which 
 vents its petulance upon toys and chairs by which the little 
 foot has been aggrieved. As soon as the captured queen 
 had been led back to Paris, he rushed out to " Jerusalem," 
 laid hands on two Huguenot temples, ripped up the benches, 
 smashed the pulpits, pulled down the buildings, brought 
 some of the timbers into the city, made a bonfire and 
 shouted, " God has not yet fi)rsaken Paris." The Hugue- 
 nots, in their songs and pasquinades, gave him the title of 
 Munsicur Bnde-banc — Burnbench. His lawless example 
 carried his admirers still farther. They ferreted out the 
 lingering worshippers and revelled in j)lnn(ler, rioting and 
 slaughter. " God knows how many porters and rag- 
 gatherers were made rich and Huguenots poor," says 
 Claude Hat(jn,t who reckons that more tlian eight hundred 
 heretics were killed in Paris during the June of loG'I. 
 
 * Letter dcxxxii., loth August, loG2. 
 
 f His chronicle is found in Documents snr I'llistoire de France.
 
 310 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 The enricliiiig of one class at the expense of another be- 
 came general in France. Bran tome relates: "I heard two 
 good Catholics say that this good civil war brought to light 
 an infinity of treasures hidden in churches. . . . Many 
 gentlemen had a vast amount of money, all coined with the 
 effigy of our little King Charles upon it. I have seen those 
 who had been greatly reduced riding about with half a 
 dozen good horses, jolly enough. If they caught bankers, 
 they made the crowns fly out of their purses ; and thus the 
 nobility were restored to wealth by the grace of this good 
 war, so well invented by the great admiral." The abbe 
 mistook the inventor. 
 
 Coligny wrote to his violent uncle, whom he " had hon- 
 oured and served as a father." The letter is full of heart 
 and history, as a quotation may prove. The messenger 
 bore proposals for securing peace: 
 
 " My lord, I entreat you to consider the troubles of this 
 kingdom, and the calamities which must fall upon it unless 
 God put forth his hand. And I appeal to all just men to 
 declare who are the real cause. For yourself, I beg you to 
 consider in whose hands you are, and whether your allies 
 be not the very men who have ever sworn and sought your 
 ruin and that of your whole house. I apj^eal to your ex- 
 perience when in prison [after St. Quentin] and throughout 
 the late king's reign. The most able men may be deceived, 
 but to persist in known error is contemptible. 
 
 " I entreat you to consider whether the enmity of those 
 persons to ray brothers and myself be not chiefly on your 
 account. At the beginning of the reign of Henry II. how 
 well we were altogether! It was your injuries and your 
 discontent against them that divided us. I know not, sir, 
 whether you are the last one to perceive that you will bo 
 held responsible for the coming evils, and that you are 
 about to bequeath to your house, as a lasting inheritance,
 
 THE UI'KISINC; or THE HU(;rEN()TS. 311 
 
 the detcstatiuu of all classes, and more especially of the 
 nobility of this country ; and this only that you may ag- 
 grandize enemies whose greatness will be founded on your 
 own destruction. , . . All this company here assembled 
 have fully resolved, that as they do not wish to give law to 
 the Romish Church, neither will they receive law from her. 
 . . . God will finally judge our intentions, and before him 
 I protest that not one of all this company has taken arms 
 either against our king or against the Roman Church, but 
 solely to maintain the crown and to defend those of our re- 
 ligion from the violence which has been committed in 
 defiance of the throne and the national assembly of this 
 kingdom." 
 
 The proposals which Coligny and the prince had trans- 
 mitted were very moderate, and to this effect: That the 
 edict of January should be observed by all parties ; that 
 all persons should be compensated for injuries received 
 during the latest troubles ; that the free agency of the king 
 and queen-mother should be ensured ; that she should sepa- 
 rate herself from the Triumvirate, take her son and remove 
 to some place halfway between Paris and Orleans ; that 
 there the chiefs of both parties should meet her and give 
 an account of their conduct ; or, if she should remain in 
 Paris, that Guise and his party should lay down their arms 
 and return to their estates, while the same thing would be 
 done by Conde and his followers, although, as a prince of 
 the blood, he was exempt from such an obligation ; and 
 that he would give up all his children into the hands of the 
 (jueen as pledges of his sincerity. 
 
 Well might the prince add, that if these proposals were 
 rejected the whole blame of the civil war would rest upon 
 his adversaries. The Triumvirate issued a paper, in which 
 thoy unblushingly stated that the young king and his 
 mother had conic to Paris by their own consent, and wero
 
 312 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 at perfect liberty! We need not take up other points, 
 which were as false as they were fair. The proposals were 
 of course rejected with attempted disdain. 
 
 Both parties took the field. The Duke of Guise led his 
 forces of seven thousand men toward Orleans. No sooner 
 was this movement known than the prince and the admiral 
 inax-ched out with their eiglit thousand men to meet them. 
 The little town of Vassodun bade fair to become a scene 
 of war. Nothing was talked of but a battle. The queen 
 was in di.stres.s. She projjosed a conference with the Prince. 
 They agreed to meet at Thoury, with a hundred gentlemen 
 on each side, who should keep at a wide distance apart. 
 The hour came. The queen and Navarre met the prince 
 and Coligny. While they were talking, the chiefs of both 
 parties " yearned toward each other." They gazed for half 
 an hour, "one seeking with his eyes a brother, another an 
 uncle, a cousin, a friend, an ancient companion. They 
 asked leave to approach. Leave was granted with reluct- 
 ance, for it was feared they would fall to blows. But far 
 were they from such feelings. There was nothing but salu- 
 tations and embracings, in spite of the colours each party 
 bore — the troops of Navarre being clothed in cassocks of 
 crimson velvet, with crimson banners, and those of Cond6 
 in white, with white banners. . . . When all at last began 
 to think that, if their chiefs should not agree, these greet- 
 ings would soon be converted into bloody murders, when 
 brother would not spare brother, the tears sprang to their 
 eyes. Myself was then among the Protestants" — we are 
 quoting from the literary captain. La None — "and I may 
 truly say that on the other side I had a dozen friends whom 
 I accounted as dear as my own brethren, and who bore me 
 the like affection. Private friendships were warm then, but 
 have since been deadened by the miseries that followed. . . . 
 The queen and the prince, having conferred about two
 
 THE UPRISING OF THE HUGUENOTS. 313 
 
 hours, parted without coming to any agreement ; and all 
 the rest retired, extremely sorrowful that there had been no 
 better result." 
 
 A strange expedient had entered the mind of Catherine, 
 for which she was partly indebted to Bishop Montluc, her 
 private councillor. It was to persuade the chiefs of each 
 party to impose on themselves a voluntary exile. The 
 Triumvirs were to leave the court; the prince and the Co- 
 liguys were to take refuge iu some other kingdom, until the 
 majority of Charles IX. The idea was a stratagem of the 
 court. Conde seemed willing to accept the proi)osal. " He 
 returned to the camp," says La None, whose pen ran 
 humorously years after in his prison, " and he laughed 
 (between his teeth) with the gentlemen who had heard all 
 his talk. Some scratched their heads where there was no 
 itching, some were pensive, but the younger sort gibed at 
 each other, wondering how they should earn a living in a 
 foreign land." Coligny only saw a "rat-trap" iu the pro- 
 j)osal. " If you now forsake us, it will be rumoured that 
 you are in fear," said Andelot. The brave lord of Bron- 
 carde, whose head was like a loaded musket, had his word : 
 " I should be loth to walk up and down in a foreign land 
 with a toothpick in my mouth (a glance at the admiral), 
 and know that some flattering neighbour was master of my 
 house and fattening on my revenues." Beza urged the 
 ])rince : " Do not give over the good work you have begun, 
 and God will bring it to perfection." Cond6 yielded, and 
 " all shook hands in confirmation thereof." 
 
 Another conference was held at Talcy (28th June, 1562), 
 but the Huguenots were only wasting time by these parleys. 
 Audelot said of them: "All these parlemcntations are 
 nothing but swindling baits, and we shall never be agreed 
 till we are brought within half a league of each other and 
 have had a good scrimmage together." Each army was 
 Vol. I.— 27
 
 314 ADMIRAL COLIGNV. 
 
 wary of the other, avoiding a general engagement. Each 
 sent out bands of men to seize what towns and treasures 
 they could. Blois fell to the Duke of Guise, who outdid 
 the cruelties at Vassy, 
 
 The good people of Beaugency had pleasant memories 
 of John Calvin, who used to leave his books behind him 
 and walk out from Orleans to teach the glad tidings of lifo 
 to those whose first astonishment equalled their later faith 
 It became a Protestant toAvn. No doubt they were willing 
 to quarter the Prince of Conde and his body-guard among 
 them while he still carried on these parleys. He was there 
 at Catherine's suggestion, as the bridge over the Loire would 
 be a good spot for a conference. He took no hostages of 
 Navarre, for he relied upon the mere word of a brother and 
 of Catherine. He sent away the Protestant garrison. But 
 soon he found himself in a trap. The queen shut him up 
 in the place, set her garrison over it and put it in a state 
 of defence against the admiral. 
 
 Coligny was so indignant at this perfidy that he marched 
 suddenly upon the enemy's camp and rescued Conde, for 
 the queen was now in haste to give him up unharmed. A 
 fight exposed the village to the plunder of the admiral's 
 troops. They broke over all restraints and put their com- 
 manders to shame.* 
 
 The admiral had now his headquarters at Bourges. One 
 day he learned that a battering-train, with a quantity of 
 gunpowder, was on its way to the Duke of Guise, under 
 command of De Chon, a Lorrainer and no bad soldier. 
 " What ! six troops of cavalry and an array of infantry !" 
 said Coligny. " They must want to be sure of their pow- 
 der, or intend to attack us. AVe will see to that." He 
 marched out with his cavalry. Coming near, De Chon 
 challenged him to a single combat. 
 
 * Vita Colinii ; Courtiltz, Vie de Coligny.
 
 Tin: Ti^nsTxr; of tiif iircsT' knots. 315 
 
 " 1 Imvo a greater war on liaixl tliaii a duel," replied (.'o- 
 ligny. "You can have fight enough, if you desire." His 
 soldiers made a hrisk charge, routed the powder train, and 
 heard the leader crying out to his men, "Ah, cowards! is 
 this what you promised me?" 
 
 Two horsemen then quitted their ranks and approached 
 the admiral, who ordere<l them to be taken alive, if possible. 
 They fought desj)erately. One slew two or three of the 
 other party and then fell dead ; the other was captured. 
 "Why did your captain insult me by his challenge?" in- 
 quired the admiral. 
 
 He refused to explain at first, but finally said, "I and 
 my friend were ofiered a large reward if we should kill 
 Coligny at the time of the duel. De Chon promised it, 
 giving us each a proof-cuirass and good arms." 
 
 "Your slain comrade has his reward for such an outrage 
 upon honourable warfare. Be wiser by his f:\te. Go free, 
 and tell vour master that we are not highwaymen." Co- 
 ligny then ])iled in one heap the cai)tured guns, gunpowder, 
 carriages and useless spoil, and when he apjjlied the match, 
 " his soldiers were much astonished at the noise !"* The 
 spiking of guns was not then understood. 
 
 During some of the struggles near Beaugency, Admiral 
 Coligny bore a heavy grief upon his heart. God had given 
 him several children ; he loved (iaspard, his oldest, as his 
 own soul. This son had studied under a renowned master 
 and given promise of distinction. His father hoped to see 
 him become eminent in military life. AVc recall the haste 
 with which the admiral went from Chatillon to Orleans. 
 His wife and children soon followed, and this son fell sick 
 of a fever,! when the admiral was taking the active march. 
 
 * Vita Colinli ; Courtilz, Browning. 
 
 f Perliap,s the plague, whieli young DWubign^ h:ul about the same 
 time. Thousands of poor refugees diod ^vill) it, Beza says ten thou-
 
 316 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 Por seven days his mother watched over him, unwilling to 
 give him up; but "the Lord took him." As usual, the 
 admiral sought to lessen his wife's sorrow by concealing his 
 own. His chaplain, Merlin, thought the admiral ought to 
 show more sympathy, and visited him in camp. Coligny 
 sent back the following letter, which reveals the sources of 
 his strength : 
 
 " That you may have reason to support yourself under 
 the grief for our beloved son, remember that he belonged 
 to God more than to us. Fall back upon that faith which 
 can give you submission to his holy will. It is true that 
 he deserved to be loved by us, and that we hoped for great 
 satisfaction from one so well born and so promising. But 
 remember, my beloved Charlotte, that he could not live 
 longer without displeasing God. It was better for him to 
 die at his age, so that he might be free from all future sin. 
 Finally, God teaches that we should offer to him all our 
 other children, so that if it be his will he may make them 
 more bles.sed than we can do. Adieu. I hope that you 
 can share with me in my joy as I do in your sorrow. 
 Written from camp." * In her piety, Madame Coligny de- 
 rived fresh comfort from the will of God. 
 
 A more public woe fell upon all Protestant France. The 
 bloodiest annals of legislation may be challenged to pro- 
 duce a more inhuman decree than was issued by the parlia- 
 ment of Paris. The hands of the pope, of Philipf and of 
 
 sand persons perislied, but very few of tliem were soldiers. A general 
 fast was ordered by the Protestant ministers; the plague ceased. Paris 
 also was visited, but the statement tliat eighty thousand died there in 
 tlie summer of 1562 seems exaggerated. 
 
 * Vita Colinii. 
 
 t Pius V. ordered collentions to be raised. Throgmorton wrote: 
 "The pope hath lent one hundred thousand crowns, and doth pay be- 
 sides six tliousand soldiers." Philip promised military support. The
 
 THK UIMMSINC OF TlIi: II ((M* KNOTS. 1^7 
 
 the Triiinvir.s were in it. J>y one stroke of the pen tlie en- 
 tire Huguenot population was j)roscribed, and all Konian- 
 ists commanded to arm in every parish, and at the sound 
 of the bell or the drum to rise and slay their neighbours 
 without merey, without respect to age or ties of family and 
 without fear of being called to any account.* Each of the 
 three tyrants was a Ilaman, using tlie king's signet ring, 
 and she whom Coligny had twic^e called the Esther of the 
 Protestants was either heartless or powerless. 
 
 Then might be heard from Roman Catholic pulpits on 
 every Sabbath day the murderous decree read by the pastor 
 to his congregation, which coniiiuaidt'd them to massacre 
 and pillage their innocent brethren and acquaintances. 
 Then might be henrd tlic clang of the rural village bell, 
 summoning those who had ever stood in horror of shedding 
 human blood in their quiet streets, to slaughter the com- 
 ])ani()ns of their toil, their fellow-shepherds on the hills and 
 
 Frencli ambassador at Maihitl wrote (1st May, 1562): "They devise 
 liow tlie Guiseans may be assisted, wliose cause is as dear to them as 
 their eyeballs." All for destroying the French heretics! 
 
 * Twenty years before, the inquisitor Caraflii had this amonnf the 
 "best rules that he could devise" for exterminating heresy: "No man 
 must debiise himself by showing toleration toward heretics of any 
 kind, above all tcnvard Calvinists." — lianke, Hist. Popes, Boliii's eil., 
 
 i. 1.",;). 
 
 If such rules were fully abandoned in our age, we should treat them 
 as matters of "the dead past." But at Rome itself certain Protestants 
 were recently excluded from the city limits, and barely allowed to 
 worsliip outside the city gates. Among other defences of the action 
 was the following, in the New York Tablet. 1SG7: "As Protestants 
 liave no divine authority to teach or govern, they have no right to 
 send missionaries or to open places of worship wliere tiie national 
 authority forbids it. They liave from God no right of propagandism, 
 and religious liberty is in no sense violated when the national author- 
 ity, whether Catholic or pagan, closes iheir mouths and tiuir places 
 of holding forth." 
 27 «
 
 318 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 fellow-wor.sliippers in the cliurcli. Then might be seen the 
 peasant leaving liis corn and liis vines and rushing with the 
 bhidgeon into his neighbours' fields, and repeating the 
 crime of Cain upon Abel. Then the Huguenot mother 
 shut the doors of her house, gathered her children about 
 her and prayed to God that he would send deliverance. 
 Her very cries to Jehovah are a jiroof that she is worthy 
 of death. At sunset a smoking brand is all that is left of 
 that house, and human ashes are mingled with the native 
 soil. A brutal herdsman gathers his band, wanders through 
 the valleys and mountains and deals with overtaken fugi- 
 tives as the enemies of God, the country and the Church. 
 We could cite facts, for the names of towns and of men are 
 recorded, but even general statements are too horrible for 
 history. Even the poet, Ronsard, whose elegant verses had 
 charmed the leisure of Mary Stuart and won the laurel 
 wreath from scholars, headed a mob and executed the bar- 
 barous decree. The Romanist, Castelnau, tells us that 
 " fifty thousand persons are said to have perished in these 
 disorders." The monks called this " Icttiurj slip the big 
 (jrayhound !" 
 
 Nor was this the whole of the proposed tragedy. The 
 trio induced parliament, " with much vivacity," to brand 
 as I'ebels and traitors all Protestants who sack towns, pillage 
 churches and continue the war, excepting only the Prince 
 of Conde, whom they hoped to lure by this special favour. 
 Conde heard of it, and doubted whether his name was an 
 exception. To his inquiries they replied in hard and 
 haughty terms. "This article," said he, " merits another 
 sort of a response than that of the pen ; and I hope in a 
 few days to go with the sword in my hand and find out 
 whether it is proper for a foreigner and his two companions 
 to declare a sentence against a prince of the blood and the 
 greater part of the first nobility of this realm."
 
 TlIK UPRIlilNCi OF Till; Ml <; T KNOT??. 319 
 
 "It is over to hv r('iiU'iiil)orc(l," siiy.s A^ripjui I)'Aiil)i^aie, 
 "that po long as the Ilcfonuod were j)iit to death under 
 form of justice, however ini(juilous and cruel it might be, 
 they held out their necks and had no hands for resistance. 
 But when the magistrates, wearied of burnings, flung the 
 knife into the hands of the people, and the tumults and 
 enormous massacres of France tore away the venerable 
 aspect of justice, and made neighbour to slaughter neigh- 
 bour at the sound of trumpet and drum, who could 
 forbid the wretches to oppose arms to arms, steel to steel, 
 and catch from an unjust fury the contagion of a righteous 
 rage? . . . Let foreign nations judge which of the two 
 parties has its forehead stained with the crime of war." * 
 
 Could an army be restrained from violence when such 
 inhuman decrees rested upon the home and family of every 
 Huguenot soldier? "When this war began," says La 
 Noue, "the chiefs and captains in the Huguenot army still 
 remembered the fine military order of the days of Francis 
 and Henry. The soldiers, too, had a memory of it, which 
 kept them to their duty; and still more jjower had the con- 
 stant preachings and remonstrances of their ministers, who 
 exhorted them not to oppress the ))oor jieople. The zeal 
 of religion was strong among them then. ^Marching through 
 
 * Ilistoire UnivorsfUe. Tlie aiulior of tliis valnahlo cliroiiicle was 
 a stiidcnl iti Paris at the time of which we write. The Triumvirs 
 onlered all Protestants to leave the city, ami, with his teacher Beralde 
 and his family, he (led to A[illy. There they were seized, flung into 
 prison and given up to the inquisitor. Young D'.\ubignd was un- 
 moved until his little sword was taken from him. Then he wept, but 
 would not deny his faith. Wiien told that he might he relea.sed if he 
 would abjure, lie said, " I have more horror of the mass than of death." 
 He paid the keeper of the prison large moneys, and escaped with his 
 company to Orleans, where he joined his father, a commander in the 
 Huguenot army. He was then sixteen years of age. He almost died 
 of the plague.
 
 320 ADMIRAL ('<)LlC;:i'Y. 
 
 the country, tliej' neilher pillaged nor ill-treated their hosts, 
 contenting themselves with little, and those who had the 
 means paying honestly. If a man committed a crime, 
 nobody would plead for him, so great was their detestation 
 of wickedness. 
 
 " Many were astonished at this fine order, and I remem- 
 ber my brother, Teligny, and myself, discoursing with the 
 admiral, praised it highly. ' It is a fine thing,' said he, 
 "provided it lasts, but I fear this people will soon tire of 
 their virtue.' Even so early as the taking of Beaugency 
 a decline of discipline was perceptible. . . . There was born 
 Mademoiselle de la Picoree (pillage), who has since risen 
 to such dignity. She is now madame, and, if things con- 
 tinue, she will soon become princess. . . . The admiral 
 spai-ed no pains to remedy it, and none need expect to es- 
 cape by frivolous excuses, for they were worth nothing to 
 him." Still, the contrast between the two armies was re- 
 markable. Every sort of outrage was a part of warfare 
 among the soldiers of the trio. 
 
 There was enough to arouse the vengeance of a people 
 as humane or as human as the Huguenots. But their Avrath 
 sti'uck upon church buildings, monasteries, images and things 
 lifeless before it fell upon men. It aimed at the objects of a 
 false devotion and not the devotee. And yet they have 
 been called the Vandals of the Church, the destroyers of art, 
 the enemies of the beautiful and the ancient. AVe may re- 
 gret that fine windows were broken, statues demolished, 
 pictures cut w'ith the sword, crypts ransacked, sacred furni- 
 ture despoiled, leaden roofs run into cannon balls, and cathe- 
 drals of four hundred years riddled in an hour. But let 
 those who make so much ado and weep over it all remember 
 that there were living monuments more precious than those 
 which fell at the hammer's stroke; and who first struck at 
 them ? AVho first shattered those tabernacles in which
 
 THE UPRISING OF THE HUGUENOTS. 321 
 
 dwelt liuman souls? Who first smote to the dust those 
 temples of God ? Weep over tlie broken marble ! Yet 
 those mute stones could he replaced. But who could give 
 back to France those once living statues, after they were 
 mutilated and cast in their blood to the earth ? One was 
 the work of man, and at this the indignant Huguenot aimed 
 when he sought revenge. The other was the work of (Jod, 
 and who first were the destroyers of his art, his building 
 and the crowning glory of his hand, having upon it the age 
 of more than five thousand years? And whose was the 
 greater sin? The charge that Protestantism destroyed art 
 is false ; but if this be the most serious cluu'ge made by 
 aisthetics, it may be patiently borne.* 
 
 And yet we can aftbrd to be honest. The day came when 
 there were some sad instances of Huguenot retaliation. 
 The worst may now sviffice. In the South of France ap- 
 peared Beaumont, Baron des xVdrets. Never a true Hu- 
 guenot, rather a furious malcontent, he drew the sword in 
 the name of Conde, swept over the country and threw the 
 j)ope into alarm lest this Attila should dash down upon 
 Rome. He sought to injure the Romanists as nuich as the 
 fiery Montluc injured the Protestants. As soon as his cruel 
 character was known he was severely rebuked by C'oligny 
 and Calvin. He is w-rongly entitled a " Calvinist cliief;" 
 no such man could be figliting for conscience, for religion 
 and for God. 
 
 The Huguenot town of Orange was assailed by some 
 Romanists, who fell upon the inhabitants like wolves from 
 the barren Pyrenees. They hacked these poor people in 
 ])icces, l)uriit them at dull fires, lelt them to slowly die of 
 nuitilatioiis, treated young women so that death was wel- 
 come to them, stripped noble ladies and pasted on them the 
 torn leaves of their Geneva Bibles, and revelkil in lust as 
 * Piiaiix ; Proseott's MisccIIaiieoiK l'>savs.
 
 322 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 if they were demons. A detacliinont of these wretches, 
 fresh from the scene, were surprised by Des Adrets. In a 
 fort they might have defended themselves, but vilhvins are 
 cowardly, and he made short work of them, hurling them 
 over the rocks, tearing, torturing and slaying with a terrible 
 revenge. Hei'e was some show of retaliation. 
 
 But this man, warring in his own way, went to INIont- 
 brisson. It surrendered without a blow, and he had cause 
 to be merciful. But a plank was run out from the castle 
 walls, and man by man the garrison were told to walk out 
 upon it and off it. That or worse, and the horrible scene 
 began. . He sat below ; down came one soldier, another 
 upon him, and a third, and the ghastly heap increased, 
 while he "shouted to the victims to make haste as they 
 shivered at the hideous leap." One lingered, turned back, 
 came a second time and halted. "What!" exclaimed the 
 baron, "do you take twice for it?" 
 
 " I will give you ten times to do it iu !" was the instant 
 reply. It won him his pardon. 
 
 The cruelties of this man were paraded in Roman Cath- 
 olic camps and pulpits — only praise, however, being given 
 to his rival Montluc. Yet who was Des Adrets? Some 
 have said that he was but the tool of the crafty Catherine. 
 Let Romanists be the witnesses of his character and mo- 
 tives. They were not Protestant. Maimbourg says that 
 he blindly threw himself into the Huguenot party to revenge 
 himself on the Duke of Guise and destroy Guise's authority 
 in the south, and that the queen encouraged him. The 
 Abbe Caveyrac says that " he returned sincerely to God 
 and his king." He had never been a true Protestant. 
 Had he been a sort of military Jesuit, acting a part that 
 would throw confusion into all parties and help Catherine 
 to power? We doubt whether the queen endorsed him. 
 Certainly Coligny did not. He was soon removed and
 
 THE UPRISING OF THK HUGUENOTS. 323 
 
 the excellent Soubise put in his office as governor of 
 Lyons, and this before his "sincere return" to the Roman 
 Church.* 
 
 *Tliii;ini Hist.; Baylc; D'Aiibign^, Hist. Universelle ; Maimbourg, 
 J list, du C':ilviiiisrue.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THROV^GU WAR TO I'JEACK. 
 (1J5G3-15C3.) 
 
 THE contagious example of Montmorency had brought 
 anarchy even into Paris. Catherine and the king were 
 under a strong guard at the castle of Vincennes, for they 
 dared not " to commit themselves into the hands of the fu- 
 rious Parisians, who did most cruelly use and kill every 
 person, no age or sex excejited, that they took to be con- 
 trary to their religion." Thus wrote the English ambassa- 
 dor, Throgmorton, who was obnoxious to all parties except 
 the Huguenots. Before he should give place to another, 
 he set out for the camp of Guise at Blois, attaching him- 
 self to a convoy of artillery and powder. Was it the one 
 under De Chon? Its fate was similar, for Coligny seized it, 
 and led Throgmorton to Orleans. 
 
 There they talked of Queen Elizabeth, her needed aid, 
 her settled price. " If Guise gets the upper hand of you," 
 said the Englishman, " then we shall all be ruined by Spain 
 and the pope. Give back Calais to Elizabeth ; let her sol- 
 diers hold Havre as a pledge, and she will loan you a hun- 
 dred thousand crowns, and spend forty thousand more on 
 the defence of Rouen." 
 
 " Can we introduce the English into Xorraandy or sur- 
 render Calais without the appearance of treason?" inquired 
 the admiral. " It will be a great note of infamy," said 
 Conde. " Your queen asks too much. She is interested 
 in her own defence, and should be willing to serve us a 
 
 324
 
 THIJOUGH WAR TO PKA< E. 325 
 
 good turn as well as herself." But Elizabeth drove hard 
 bargains. She must have Calais, " and Havre too," said 
 her agent ; " it would be cheap even at a million of crowns." 
 ►Some sort of an agreement was made. An English army 
 took Havre ; * other troops set out for Rouen. 
 
 Guise sought to prevent it, but seeing it was too late, he 
 offered Conde the edict of January and universal toleration. 
 "Will parliament i)ut the seal to your promise?" asked 
 the prince and tlic admiral. Of course not. One thing 
 was gained; the Triumvirate must now fight the English. 
 
 Already was the siege of Rouen in progress. On the 
 last of September, Guise sat down before it in force ; the 
 queen-mother, the boy-king, Navarre, Montmorency and 
 St. Andre all present. Within the gates was the valiant 
 Scot, Montgomery, and a small garrison. In the town all 
 was sober and severe ; no games, no shows, only sermons, 
 prayers, psalms, faith in God, liope against hope, and a 
 heroism that sent frail women to work on the walls. Five 
 weeks were wearing away, when some boats were bringing 
 up the river a force of English privateers, under such bold 
 men as Wyatt the insurgent and " Strangways the rover." 
 The boats were attacked ; one ran upon the sands. The 
 crews were seized and taken into the camp of Guise, who 
 hanged them on trees with this writing above their heads : 
 
 * The rules laid down for tlie f]nglisli poldiers, while holding Havre, 
 might be supposed to have corae from Admiral Coligny, they were bo 
 like his own: "Every captain and soldier, immediately after their 
 arrival in the church or market-place, shall devoutly together yield 
 thanks to God, by singing of some psalm or other devout prayer that 
 shall be appointed, for their good passage and safe arrival. . . . Every 
 soldier shall behave himself toward the French in all loving, cour- 
 teous and gentle manner." ... No tliefts — no cards — no profane 
 swearing. . . . "No soldier shiill keep any woman other than his 
 wedded wife." — Vide Frouilf, ///,-/. Emjland, vii. loO. 
 Vol. I.— 28
 
 326 ADiMIKAJ. COLIGNV. 
 
 " Hung for having!; come agcainfjt the will of the queen of 
 England to the service of the Huguenots." The rest cut 
 their way into Rouen, and better fulfilled the will of Eliza- 
 beth.* 
 
 " We must conquer before Andelot conies with his Ger- 
 mans," said Guise. A furious assault was made. The 
 walls gave way. Montgomery barely escaped. No mercy 
 was shown to the inhabitants. The pillage lasted eight 
 days, Brantorae says, " without i-egard to one religion or 
 the other." Then came judicial murders by the parliament. 
 Among other victims was Augustin Marlorat, one of the 
 twelve ministers whom we saw at Poissy. He was a man 
 of learning, piety and moderation, highly esteemed among 
 the faithful. The Constable Montmorency wished to see 
 him, and at the interview accused him of having seduced 
 the people. " If I have done so," replied the devoted min- 
 ister of Christ, " God first seduced me, for I have preached 
 to them the simple word of God." The constable insulted 
 him on the way to the gibbet, where he exhorted his fellow- 
 suflTerers to glorify God to their last breath. He was hanged 
 in front of the cathedral, whose splendour may cause the 
 traveller to forget the sacrifice there made for true liberty 
 of conscience. 
 
 The story of Francis de Civille might be told for the hun- 
 dreth time and still retain its freshness. He was a private 
 gentleman, who came to defend the city. Bravely holding 
 his place in the front rank of his company, he was wounded 
 in the neck by a musket-ball ; he fell back into the trench, 
 gave no signs of life, and was loosely covered with earth. 
 The rude burial happened about midday. At nightfall 
 his servant came to recover the body and send it to his 
 family. But he found two bodies in the trench, and not 
 being able to tell which was that of his master, he replaced 
 * Mezerav ; De Thou.
 
 TllKorcill WAll TO PEACE. 327 
 
 them in Llicir graves. On turning away, he noticed an arm 
 still uncovered, and stooped to give it protection. In the 
 moonliglit his eye caught the glimmer of his master's dia- 
 mond ring, and, overjoyed at this first discovery, he drew 
 tlie body from its place. lie found warmth remaining, and 
 took it to the surgeons. They were burdened with labour, 
 and declined to treat so de,sperate a case. Four days passed. 
 The servant proved that life was not gone. The surgeons 
 kindly attended to him. He began to recover. Just then 
 the city was taken, and the rude soldiers dragged him from 
 his couch and threw him out of the window. There he lay 
 for three days without any attention, until an old friend 
 discovered him almost lifeless. He was nursed with gentle- 
 ness, and carried from Rouen in a boat. " I saw him," says 
 D'Aubignt', "forty-two years afterward, as a delegate for 
 Normandy in the General Assembly (of the Reformed 
 Church). I observed that he always added to his signature, 
 'Thrice dead, thrice buried, and thrice raised, by the grace 
 of God.' The ministers, for what reason it would be hard 
 to divine, endeavoured in vain to make him give up this 
 addition to his name." 
 
 The fate of the King of Xavarre was less happy. "Wound- 
 ed and in agony, he was carried from the trenches to play 
 the fool with his mistress, and disgust his visitors with his 
 perpetual theme, the orange groves and golden rivers of his 
 promised .Sardinia. In a few days the wound was shown 
 to be mortal. His levity ceased ; he gave his whole mind 
 to repentance. He warned Catherine of the evil intentions 
 of Spain and the Triumvirate. She commended to him the 
 Holy Scriptures. The ruling passion strong in death, he 
 wavered again between the two great creeds. To his Papal 
 physician and to the priest he was a devout Romanist. 
 To the Protestant physician, sent him by Conde, he seemed 
 a penitent Lutheran. He declared that if he recovered
 
 328 ADMIRAL COT.IGNY. 
 
 be would openly profess the Augsburg Confession, and sent 
 word to his brother that he would labour to promote the 
 Reform, No one had any confidence in his words. He 
 had trifled away the most splendid opportunities and be- 
 trayed the heaviest trusts. At the age of forty-four he 
 died, worthy of the sentence of Pasquier, " regretted neither 
 by one party nor the other." * 
 
 There are solemn lessons in the career of such a man. 
 We see how worthless fair talents may be without principles 
 — how ruinous, indeed, to himself and the cause he may ad- 
 vocate. Antony Bourbon had once gained honours in bat- 
 tle. Courage in some way may dazzle the eyes of men, but 
 God looks for a conscience well directed by his holy Word. 
 The end of tliis prince, deluded and deluding others, was 
 loudly proclaiming to the Huguenots, " Put not your con- 
 fidence in princes." " Trust ye in the Lord for ever ; for 
 in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength. For he 
 bringeth down them that dwell on high ; the lofty city lie 
 layeth it low ; he layeth it low, even to the ground ; he bring- 
 eth it even to the dust." 
 
 The Prince of Conde now claimed that he ought to be 
 made lieutenant-general as the successor of his deceased 
 brother. But if he was tempted to betray his party for the 
 sake of the high office, Coligny was at hand to give him 
 nerve and keep before his mind the cause of God in which 
 they were enlisted. They fell back to Orleans. Their de- 
 feat at Rouen threw a chill upon the Huguenots, whose 
 brilliant successes had fired their ardour. On all sides they 
 beheld a series of reverses. The successes were in the 
 North, too far away to strengthen the main army. Numer- 
 ous towns were lost. Even at headquarters an evil spirit 
 was at work. Many Huguenot gentlemen and soldiers de- 
 serted to the king's camp, where they were well received 
 * Thuanus, Brantome, Castelnau.
 
 TIlKorcH WAK 'lO I'KACE. 329 
 
 and givi'ii li'tl( rs of piinloii. Jii oldtii times, David, proba- 
 bly, saw some such politicians go over to Saul. 
 
 One day an almost breathless messenger came to Orleans 
 Avith a letter in cypher. The prince read it, and said to 
 Coligny, " Your prayer is answered. Andelot has crossed 
 the Rhine with four thousand reiters and lancers, swept 
 across Ivorraine, evaded the roving band.s that sought to 
 waylay liini, and is within a few days' march of us. Now 
 let us move u[)on Paris." Just up in the little town of 
 Pluvieres a few regiments were avenging some of the Rouen 
 calamities, hanging some priests, and SJiying to the Papists, 
 " As j'ou brew, you must drink." 
 
 Into this town Andelot was borne in a litter, sick with 
 the (piartan ague. The rough German riders were hailed 
 with cheers and given a month's pay in advance, the money, 
 says La None, "being picked up here and there, for it is 
 the usual malady of the Huguenots to be always short of 
 funds." The chronic malady of the reiters was to be always 
 eager for pay and plunder. E.stamjies was taken, then Cor- 
 beil. ""We will cause a little trouble in the kitchen where 
 the war was cooked," said La Noue ; " the Parisians shall 
 have a taste of their own dinner." Cond6 wa.s intent upon 
 seizing the capital, which was thrown into alarm. He may 
 not have known that Guise and his army were fast march- 
 ing down from Normandy, which he had almost laid waste. 
 
 "I object," answered Coligny; "our infantry will be- 
 come mad for plunder, and when scattered through the sub- 
 urbs, will be easily cut to pieces by the enemy." He also 
 refused his assent to the pillage of Corbeil, and when re- 
 ]>roached for his fears of such a paltry town, he replied, " I 
 would rather be laughed at by my friends without reason 
 than by my enemies with reason." He agreed with his wise 
 La Noue, that the " best defences of a place are brave men 
 within the walls." 
 28 *
 
 330 ADMIRAT, COLIG>>"Y. 
 
 Yet the army pushed on t(j\varcl Paris. Catherine was 
 in distress. She sent her ambassadors. She offered to make 
 Conde lieutenant-general, to grant toleration — the great 
 edict of January came up again — and the admiral too 
 should have his reward. But her net was spread in vain. 
 Already the advance was sweeping down upon the capital, 
 when sixteen thousand men rushed to the walls for its de- 
 fence. Certain suburbs were taken.* The citizens were in 
 great terror. The president, Le Maistre, who had forced 
 so many cruel edicts through parliament, could not flee 
 from his sick room, and died, partly of fright. "It is the 
 hand of God," said the Huguenots. "He avenges the 
 death of Du Bourg." 
 
 Coligny and Andelot were drawn into other parleys, which 
 came to nothing. Eight days were lost, the opportunity 
 talked away, the Guises strengthened by three thousand 
 Spaniards, and the Huguenots weakened by discontent. To 
 shiver in the winter, and think of not being at home on the 
 coming Christmas, did not impart new courage to the sol- 
 diers. Genlis, who had visited Coligny at Chatillon when 
 Charlotte Laval pleaded for her religion and her brethren, 
 played the traitor and went over to the Triumvirate. The 
 first day he was caressed, the second laughed at, and the 
 third was so despised that he sought repentance. " We 
 must stratcgize," said Coligny. "The traitor will reveal 
 all our plans." We imagine him singing that night at the 
 service in his tent, the forty-first Psalm of David : 
 
 Yea, now mine own familiar friend, 
 
 Who oft did eat my bread. 
 And had my trust, hath lifted up 
 
 Ilirt heel against my head. 
 
 * "The prince rested in the environs of Paris, the admiral at Ar- 
 cuel, Prince Poreian at Gentiily, Genlis at Montronge, the Germans 
 at Cachan, and the infantry near Vaurigard." — Mezeray, tome x. 187.
 
 TllltOUCII \SAK lO I'KACi:. o31 
 
 "Condc' true to hi.s l;iilli uml false to France," says Fn)U(le, 
 " fell back from Paris, closely followed by Guise, the con- 
 stable and St. Andre, intending to retire to the coast of 
 Normandy, where the English army would take the field 
 with him." They struck teut at Dreux, amid the for- 
 ests, where once the Druids worshipped,* and left their 
 name behind. " Here they will light us," said the 
 prince. 
 
 "Not to-morrow," said the a(hiiiral. "That shrewd 
 (|ueen will cause them to dally. Expect more talk about 
 liberty of conscience to Protectants." 
 
 Beza relates " two things that occurred, which seemed as 
 if sent from God, as presages of what was approaching." 
 The first was, that when the prince was fording a small 
 stream, ou the way to Dreux, an aged woman ran out from 
 among the peasants gathered to see him go by, flung her- 
 self into the waters, laid hold of his boot, and said, " Go on, 
 sir prince ; you will suffer much, but God will be with you." 
 Being pleased with her devotion, he replied, " My mother, 
 l)ray to God for me." 
 
 The other was more striking, and reveals much of the 
 8i)irit of the age. In the evening the prince took his bed 
 just after his chaplain had read prayers to the company. 
 The chaplain seems to have been Beza, to whom Conde 
 said, " To-morrow, if I am not much mistaken, we shall have 
 battle, whatever the admiral may think. I know one ought 
 not to give faith to his dreams, yet I must tell you what I 
 dreamed last night. I thought that I had engaged in three 
 battles, and finally gained the victory, seeing my three 
 enemies dead. But 1 myself was also mortally wounded. 
 So, having laid their three corpses one upon another, I placed 
 myself above them and yielded up my spirit." Beza adds, 
 "Strange to say, the dream seemed to be confirmed by the 
 * Vita Coliiiii.
 
 332 ADMIRAI. COLIGNY. 
 
 final result." Hundreds of such presentiments fail, and 
 then they arc not noticed. 
 
 Beza laments the fatal security of the Huguenots, which 
 allowed the constable to occupy the villages, and he says, 
 " God, wishing to discomfit them one by the other, and not 
 to exterminate either arm}', seems to have deprived the 
 great captains on both sides of common understanding." 
 He also regrets that battle was forced on the Huguenots 
 " before they had oifered private or public prayers, or had 
 time to put on their armour."* 
 
 Guise displayed his remarkable genius as a warrior. He 
 learned that the Huguenots were camped amid trees and 
 brushwood, which would be a great hindrance to the splen- 
 did cavalry of the admiral. On the night of the eighteenth 
 of December he crossed the little Eure, and was ready to 
 hail the dawn with all the thunders of his artillery. He 
 heard mass, posted his men among the copsewood and 
 hedges, with the river in his rear. From dawn until noon 
 the armies gazed at each other iu solemn stillness. Each 
 man thought within himself that he had relatives and 
 former comrades before him. Conde saw no retreat, no way 
 to refuse battle. When the attack was begun by the con- 
 stable, he was resisted "marvellously well" by his nephew, 
 the admiral, at the head of the advance. For about five 
 hours the slaughter raged. Coligny pushed hard upon his 
 uncle, who had taught him the art of war, and who now 
 imagined that a single charge would finish the whole busi- 
 ness with the poor Huguenoterie. But Coligny bore upon 
 him with four thousand horse of the old army of Italy. 
 First a clash, then confusion, the Protestant cavalry wield- 
 
 * A little later Beza acted the hero, whatever may be said of liia 
 conduct as a minister of the gospel. "In the battle he stoutly ha- 
 rangued the soldiers, and took his place in the front ranks, as if he 
 had been one of the standard-bearers." — Calvin's Letters, dcxxxvii.
 
 THROUGH WAU TO PEACE. 33o 
 
 ing their laiR'es, hoi'ftcs fUlling, men 3'elling the breatli out 
 of them, and Coligny riding tlirough and through their 
 ranks, paying his price for liberty of conscience toward 
 the (jod wliom lie .served. He thus shattered the very centre 
 of the oj)po.sing column. 
 
 His uncle had dared too much when he threw himself 
 and his men into the only sjjot where a horse could freely 
 gallop. ^Mingling oatiis and j)rayers, as his habit was, the 
 aged warrior cried aloud to his troops when their ranks 
 were breaking. Beaten from his horse, he quickly sjjrang 
 back into the saddle ; the German horsemen gathered 
 around ]\im ; a bullet shattered his jaw; when almost 
 choking with blood, he gave up his sword, and the great 
 constable of France was lead to the rear a prisoner. 
 
 Half such skill and valour on the part of the other Hu- 
 guenot forces might have ended the war, given Coude the 
 place over Guise at the throne, and won for the Protest- 
 ants the toleration they sought. Coligny's men shouted, 
 " Victory," and imagined the day was theirs. But as he fixed 
 his eye on the reserved battalions under Guise and St. Andre, 
 all ready to sweep down upon the ground which Montmo- 
 rency had left vacant, he said, " We deceive ourselves; we 
 shall soon see that great cloud bursting upon us." Onward 
 came the reserves. The Germans, unwilling to lose the 
 chance of rifling the pockets of the wounded and stripping 
 the dead, gave a feeble front to the foe, and at the first stroke 
 of the storm they turned and fled, without a shot or a cut 
 ol" the sabre. In vain had C'oligny said, " He who holds 
 his troops together to the last carries the day." 
 
 Andelot had risen from his couch, walked forth in his 
 gown, trembling with cold, ague and burning with hot 
 fever, to arrest the sad fall of his German reiters, wlio 
 proved " that for fifty years such cowards had never en- 
 tered France." In vain was the rallying-cry of the sick
 
 334 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 hero, now mounted upon his horse; these hirelings threw 
 away their arms and were chased from the field. 
 
 " We have the old leader ; the followers will soon be 
 ours," thought the Prince of Conde soon after the capture 
 of Montmorency. Again he was saying, " The gains of one 
 hour will be lost the next," for he saw the tide turning, re- 
 ceived wounds, had a horse shot under him, put his foot in 
 the stirrup to mount another, when young Henry Montmo- 
 rency came up with the word "Surrender!" The son was 
 seeking reprisals for the capture of his father and for the 
 death of a younger brother. Conde gave up his sword, and 
 he too was a prisoner. 
 
 It was Coligny, supported by a brave nobility, who 
 saved the Huguenot army from annihilation. Loudly had 
 he cried to his men, "Think more of your religion than of 
 your lives," and some of them had shouted back the words 
 on Conde's standards, " It is sweet to die for Christ and our 
 country." Thrice they charged ; thrice they were resisted, 
 like waves by the moveless rock. Their pikes were found 
 to be bent, their swords twisted, their pistols choked, so 
 hard had been the service of that desperate day. It w'as 
 Coligny's old praying regiment, fighting in God's name. In 
 one of the attacks St. Andr6 fell, and gave up his sword to 
 Coligny. But a wretch who had been once defrauded by 
 the prisoner rode up and shot him through the head, say- 
 ing, "Die, traitor — die by the hand of one whom yon have 
 despoiled." The assassin fled, for he knew that Coligny 
 would punish the crime. 
 
 The chief object now aimed at by the enemy was the life 
 of Coligny. Many a venturous man had rushed forward 
 to slay him or perish ; he only perished. The hidden 
 hand of Jehovah was upon the general who most of all 
 feared him. One knight, dressed in Guise's armour, and 
 riding his fine charger, called on Coligny to advance
 
 TiiRonai WAi: to im:.u-i:. 335 
 
 and fij^ht him. But such a chiillciige was in vain. He 
 then dashed into the ranks and was killed. So closely did 
 this man resemble Guise that it was reported he was dead. 
 
 " Night came at a haj)py hour for the Huguenots," says 
 INIezeray ; perhaps the hour was quite as happy for the 
 other army. Each side admitted no defeat ; each had lost 
 about the same number of men; of thirty thousand, eight 
 thousand lay dead on the field. Unwillingly, slowly, sadly, 
 Coligny retired with his troops, his own obedient soldiers in 
 good order and himself great in adversity. What were 
 his prayers through all that night for the wounded and 
 dying, as the white coats and red coats touched each other 
 on the field of uncomforted death ! 
 
 Coligny did not regard the Protestants as conquered. He 
 wrote to the queen of England, " Our infantry has suf- 
 fered a defeat without fighting, but our cavalry, which 
 alone fought the battle, is undamaged, and wishes for noth- 
 ing more ardently than to meet once more, without delay, 
 the enemies of God and of the kingdom. These will de- 
 liberate whether to attack us, or to await an attack frojn 
 our side."* 
 
 In Paris there were, at first, no rejoicings as of victors. 
 The queen saw that her losses were great. One of the Tri- 
 umvirs was slain, another was a prisoner, and now the 
 third, the Duke of Guise, would reign unchecked and alone. 
 In her heartless way she coolly said of the result, " Well, 
 then, we must pray to God in French" — alluding to the 
 popular language of the Protestant worship. " But what 
 of it? It will be but a mass the less!" A little later the 
 
 * One story is tliat wlieii his friends nrged Gnise to pnrsue Coligny, 
 he replied, " I have a worse beast to fij^ht tlian all the Ilnguenots |>iit 
 together." lie meant Catherine. Coligny sent a report of tlie battle 
 to Calvin, of whieh Letter dcxx.wii. is probably a summary. lie 
 seems to liuve written the aecounl in Mem. de Conde.
 
 336 ADMIRAL COI.IGNY. 
 
 court reckoned upon a victory, and the streets and churches 
 ■were filled with joy and thanksgiving. 
 
 The Prince of Conde was led to the tent of the Duke of 
 Guise, One would have thought they were most chival- 
 rous cousins. They seemed to forget that they had chal- 
 lenged each other to duels and vented their wrath by 
 swearing to take revenge on the first occasion. The prince 
 was little seen, says the Abbe Brantome; " Guise forbade 
 the many who called from seeing him, for people in afflic- 
 tion do not like visitations. ... I had, however, interest 
 enough to get in, and beheld him near the fire, making 
 great demonstrations of grief" The two rivals and 
 foes ate their supper together, and, " beds being scarce," 
 they shared the same couch, the duke "sleeping as soundly 
 as if nothing had happened," and the prince never closing 
 his eyes. The story is not quite well enough founded to 
 carry conviction to modern rivals, who may be in need of 
 such an example. 
 
 "Of all the battles fought in France daring the civil 
 wars," wrote La Noue, who by turns used sword and pen 
 in his peculiar way, " none is more memorable than that of 
 Dreux, whether we consider the experienced chiefs then 
 present, or the obstinacy with which the field was disputed. 
 In every point of view it is an accident worthy of all lamen- 
 tation, on account of the blood of more than five hundred 
 gentlemen which bathed the bosom of their common mo- 
 ther." Among the slain was the aged La Brosse, who 
 struck the first blow in the massacre of Vassy. Guise hoped 
 to make him grand marshal of France. In the cold morn- 
 ing, before the battle. La Brosse said, " I fancy I shall be 
 killed to-day, and, indeed, I have lived too long, and it is a 
 shame for me to bear a lance and imbrue it in blood, when 
 I should be at home begging of God to forgive the sins of 
 my youth." Why not do that on the field? Perhaps he
 
 Til ROUGH WAR TO PEACE. 337 
 
 thought a priest and a mass were necessary to the obtain- 
 ing of a pardon, or lie spoke only in the levity of his wit. 
 
 " If this battle had been lost," was one of the connnents 
 of the warrior Montluc, "I think it would have been all 
 over with France. Both state and religion would have 
 been changed, for they would have done what they willed 
 with the young king." 
 
 In distant quarters there was a Te Deiini for the result. 
 The Cardinal of Lorraine was not at the Council of Trent, 
 and Frao Paulo Sarpi tells that "the fathers thanked God 
 for an event which was reported to theui as a victory 
 (although it did not merit the name), and they made a pro- 
 cession, chanted a mass and listened to a sermon from 
 Beaucaire, who ascribed all the disorders in France to 
 Luther, and all the successes of the last wars to the Duke 
 of Guise." The journalist Verdun puts it a little differ- 
 ently : " There was a solemn procession for peace in the 
 French kingdom, and for the extirpation of heresy therein," 
 and the news from Dreux coming the same day, " they 
 went to the great church, giving thanks to God in the chant 
 Te Deum." * The whole Roman Church was doing its worst 
 to defeat French Protestantism. 
 
 More touching is the account of the joy and sadness felt 
 by Mary of Scots. Still warmly attached to her uncles, 
 she rejoiced in the successes of Guise at Rouen and Dreux, 
 but she was shocked with the furious character of the war. 
 It was her grief to see the country so dear to her, the land 
 of her childhood and happiest days, so flooded with the 
 blood of her people, its towns stormed and razed, and its 
 brave nobility clashing in mortal strife. She heard the 
 tidings with tears, and begged for peace. f 
 
 What was the next political move of the Duke of Guise, 
 
 * Sarpi. Hist. Concil. de Trent. — Pallavicino. 
 t Tytler, Hist. Scot. \-i. 27.=). 
 Vol. I.— 29
 
 338 ADMIRAL COLIG^'Y. 
 
 the only one of the Triumvirate left to manage the govern- 
 ment? He at once wrote to the king of "the happy vic- 
 tory he had achieved over his rebel subjects," and huml)ly 
 ordered him to send him papers in blank, that he might fill 
 them up with the names of certain officers, especially that 
 of a successor to St. Andre in the grand marshalship. If 
 the king should refuse, " he would disgust certain most faith- 
 ful servants, throw cold water on that courage which is 
 ready to hazard life, and give men just cause to forsake 
 him and find a party somewhere else ! " What dictation ! 
 
 The king read the letter, and remarked in his dawning 
 wisdom, " See whether this Duke of Guise plays the king 
 or not. You would swear the army were his own, and the 
 victory due solely to his hand. No mention of God ! and 
 he tells me that if I do not grant his demand, he will quit 
 my service and join my enemies ! " The royal Charles gave 
 the duke to understand that he had already given the baton 
 of marshal to Vielleville, a moderate man, and would fill 
 other vacancies at pleasure. But Guise was again made 
 lieutenant-general, and he was as happy as Haman in the 
 first hours of his promotion. The Mordecai was Coligny. 
 An Esther was not to be found. 
 
 The Prince of Conde was lost for a time ; the array was 
 saved, and Coligny was thinking of strategies and of dis- 
 cipline. While Conde was nervous from his dream, he had 
 named Coligny as his successor, and the Huguenots will- 
 ingly elected the admiral as their chief during the prince's 
 captivity. He said to Andelot, " You go to Orleans. Draw 
 thither the Duke of Guise, and let him waste his time and 
 means battering at the walls." 
 
 " But these Hessians ! " said Andelot. " They are clamor- 
 ous for their pay. What the churches are sending us will 
 not satisfy them. They will desert to the enemy or run 
 riot over the whole land."
 
 TIIIJOIGII WAR TO PKACK. 339 
 
 "I will take the worst of tliom, and give them such a 
 schooling as they never had, and that on a rapid march, 
 over rough roads. I shall sweep up through Normandy, and 
 at Havre get the money promised by Elizabeth, or drive 
 her guards into the sea." 
 
 Elizabeth's conduct had been provoking. The admiral 
 had lost Throgmorton at Dreux ; Guise had him as a 
 ])risoner, and was saying to him very soothingly, " Let your 
 queen withdraw her force from Havre, and Calais shall be 
 given up to her." His reservation was, "I shall cheat her 
 of that, or win it back." She heard her Commons " resolve 
 to yield their whole power in goods and bodies to recover 
 Calais." She did not trust Conde, and had but a half trust 
 in Coligny. She wrote to her new ambassador. Smith, 
 " You need not hint to the admiral that there is any slack- 
 ness on my part ; but I would be glad if some indirect 
 means could be devised to settle the religious difficulties, 
 even if toleration be not established so universally as the 
 admiral desires ; but England must have Calais, and the 
 money loaned to Conde must be repaid." 
 
 Such was the hollow dealing of Elizabeth. Behind a 
 noble cause she sought a private object. The result was, 
 that " six thousand Englishmen paid with their lives for 
 this trifling with Chatillon, while the coveted Calais was 
 forfeited for ever. The Huguenots obtained the half tolera- 
 tion which she desired for them ; and they found the value 
 of it on the day of St. Bartholomew."* 
 
 But we anticipate. The fact was already overshadowing 
 the mind of Coligny and causing fear. It was a brave 
 thing to lead those obstreperous German raiders far uti' to 
 Havre, and there demand aid from across the howling 
 Channel. 
 
 The admiral began his march the first of February, and 
 * Fronde, liipt. England, vii. 497.
 
 340 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 in six (lays was fifty leagues distant. At Havre no men, 
 no money were waiting. The Hessians, "ignorant of what 
 quarter of the world they were in," looked toward England 
 and gx'owled in unison with the angry sea. They raved, 
 they threatened, they almost mutinied. Coligny stood 
 amid the wikl tumult, powerful in his calmness. " See 
 that ! " said he, pointing to the wintry waves, as his plea 
 for England's delay. They retired ; they began to hold 
 secret meetings ; they decided to abandon his standards. 
 By raiding across France they might get home with large 
 spoils. Suddenly the winds began to cease, as if the Mighty 
 One of Galilee were walking on the waves. A fleet was 
 seen ; Coligny thanked God for the timely appearance. 
 English aid was never more opportune. The reiters 
 cheei'ed the admiral, and received from him a part of their 
 pay. 
 
 Nor was this the only vision of the heavenly Hand. The 
 Normans still remembered their advocate. Deputies ar- 
 rived from Caen, a city second to Rouen in wealth, entreat- 
 ing him to take them under his protection. It was occupied 
 by the Duke of Elboeuf, brother of Guise. His conduct 
 made him the detestation of the citizens. But at this mo- 
 ment Coligny saw a frowning providence. He learned that 
 the Duke of Guise was preparing to make a desperate as- 
 sault upon Orleans. " I will draw away some of his troops 
 by attacking Caen," said the admiral. He marched thither. 
 The gates were opened to receive him. The city was full 
 of the enemy's spoils. He again paid his Hessians, got 
 other supplies and hastened toward Orleans. Between 
 the two armies, "Normandy was well ravaged." 
 
 Meanwliile, the Duke of Guise had marched to Orleans 
 and begun the siege, saying, " Once take the burrow where 
 the foxes have retreated, and we will chase them all over 
 France." Difficulties were pointed out to this hunter of
 
 THROUGH WAR TO PEACE. 341 
 
 inen. With liis usual spirit of (Ictorniination he replied, 
 Avith an oath (for he was a great swearer), "Since tlie sun 
 finds entrance into Orleans, I too will enter it." Vain 
 boast! He forgot the God who was causing his sun to 
 shine upon the beleaguered Huguenots in the middle of 
 February. He wrote to the queen, " AVhen I enter I will 
 root out the entire seed of Huguenotisni."* 
 
 Andelot was almost overcome. One gate was forced by 
 Guise. An alarm ran through the city. Rising from his 
 sick bed, trembling still with ague, Andelot cried out, "Let 
 the nobility follow me. "We must drive out the enemy or 
 die. They can only advance ten men at once, but a hun- 
 dred of ours may resist a thousand of theirs. Courage; 
 forward r Then ten men put a thousand to flight. Guise 
 fell back, to fight no more. 
 
 A young man had come to Coligny, named Jean Poltrot 
 de Mure, recommended by Soubise, and assuming to be in 
 distress because the Guises were usurping all the i)ower 
 over France. He put on the face of a devout Huguenot. 
 He said that if he were so fortunate as to be fighting against 
 the Duke of Guise, he would single him out and try his 
 courage against him. This seems to have been all that ho 
 then said to Coligny ; })erhaps he then had no intention to 
 assassinate the chief enemy.f Coligny seems to have given 
 him money to buy a horse, and allowed him to act as a spy. 
 Poltrot then wrought himself into the good graces of the 
 duke, pretended to be a new convert "to the old religion," 
 dined with him, and, on the evening before the great as- 
 sault was to be made, shot him with three balls in the 
 
 * " Tlie (liiko will in no wise accord to peace till the Protestants l)e 
 utterly extcrmiiiatcd." — Tltrofjinnrton. 
 
 f Had he boasted openly that he would assassinate Guise, it nnist 
 have become known, for his confidant Brion acted the traitor and 
 joined the diike after the assumed boast. 
 
 2 a »
 
 342 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 shoulder, " It was to be expected," said the duke ; " but I 
 thmk it will be nothing." 
 
 The duke lived a few days, denied that he had premedi- 
 tated the massacre of Vassy, or else prayed that God would 
 forgive all his faults "excepting the aflair of Vassy," ad- 
 vised the queen to make peace, and probably alluded to 
 Coligny when he said, " And thou, too, I forgive, who art 
 the author of this ;" if indeed he said any such thing.* He 
 died greatly regretted by the extreme Roman party. 
 
 Poltrot was speedily arrested. His only hope of escap- 
 ing a horrible death was by fixing his crime upon others. f 
 When before his judges at Paris, and tortured to wring 
 from him just what was wanted, he accused Coligny, Beza, 
 La Rochefoucauld, Soubise and two others of lioing his 
 accomplices, but also claimed that he acted by a divine in- 
 spiration. He was a fanatic. This was too sweeping a 
 charge to be plausible. He afterward varied his confes- 
 sions, until Coligny was left to bear the full burden. Even 
 in this he had no straightforward story. " I spoke to him 
 myself," says Brantome, who was a warm friend of the 
 Guises. "As to the admiral, he varied and contradicted 
 himself very much in his examination when tortured, and 
 at his death." Before the president, De Thou, he retracted 
 the charges, but re-uttered them when dying a horrible 
 death. And still his statements were published and sent 
 abroad. All Europe was deeply interested in the case. 
 
 What if Poltrot had stoutly clung to one story and made 
 it appear consistent with itself? Even then the charge 
 would rest solely upon the word of an assassin. One who 
 
 * At most it could be a merely vague suspicion, unworthy of notice 
 except as softening the tem})cr of the duke. 
 
 f It was generally supposed at the time that Poltrot had been 
 promised a pardon, if his instigator could be brought to justice. — 
 Peran, Vie de Coligny.
 
 THUOrOli WAU TO PEACE. 343 
 
 had mimlcrcd another couhl readily lie about it, when he 
 knew tliat the whole Papal party was anxious to fix the 
 stigma upon the great leader of the Huguenots. The "cir- 
 cumstantial evidence" amounts to nothing against him, or 
 if it have any force it lies harder against Catherine than 
 Coligny. She is reported to have said to Tavannes, "The 
 Guises wished to make themselves kings, but I took good 
 care of them before Orleans." The susj)icion is rejected, 
 l)ut she had an interest in getting rid of the duke. A mur- 
 derer alone is the accuser. A man who.se whole life proves 
 the high tone of his principles is the accused. In history 
 the two men confront each other, and as the word of each 
 one is taken the verdict is rendered. Surely Coligny ought 
 to be heard, inasmuch as the statements are yet running in 
 the histories that " Chatillon never wholly convinced the 
 world of his innocence, for Poltrot himself accused him 
 while the horses were tearing him in pieces;" and that 
 " Coligny assented, if he did not consent to the crime. He 
 was not unwilling to profit by it, though he would do noth- 
 ing to further it."* 
 
 Two days after Coligny had seen "an interrogatory made 
 by one named Jean do Poltrot," he sent to Catherine an 
 earnest letter, and a full response to all the points taken by 
 the account.f Scarcely travelling out of his own record, 
 we shall notice only a few particulars: 
 
 1. The demand for a hearing. Coligny asked for a safe- 
 conduct, saying, " As the thing I should most dread in the 
 world would be the execution of Poltrot before the truth is 
 discovered, I humbly entreat your majesty that he shall be 
 safe!}' kept Once more I humbly cntveat that Pol- 
 trot may be well and carefully guarded to prove the truth, 
 
 * Fronde, Hist. Eng. vii. p. 507 ; White. Mas. Si. Barth. 228, Lon- 
 ilon edition. 
 
 t Documents in Mem. de Cond^.
 
 344 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 whatever it may be. For if he be carried to Paris, I should 
 fear that those of the parliament* would have him executed, 
 and thus leave me to lie under this calumny and impos- 
 ture." Innocence was not afraid of justice. If the court 
 were anxious for the truth, or confident that Coligny could 
 not overthrow Poltrot's contradictory statements, why not 
 grant so reasonable a demand ? Why hasten to put the 
 accusing witness out of the way? 
 
 2. The connection with Poltrot. The assassin declared 
 that he went to Orleans in July; Coligny affirms that he 
 never saw or heard of him until the January following, and 
 that Poltrot was engaged as a spy, or a messenger to An- 
 delot. As to any intimacy, it was false. Tlie pretended 
 conferences were fabulous. The accuser betrayed his want 
 of familiarity with Huguenot affairs by constantly using 
 the terra Seigneur de ChatUlon, whereas the uniform title 
 was Monsieur VAmiral. 
 
 3. The warnings to the Guises. As to assassinations, 
 " I have always prevented such enterprises by every means 
 in my power. Hence I have often had communication 
 with the Cardinal of Lorraine, Madame de Guise and your 
 majesty, who may remember how strongly I have opposed 
 them." Brantome asserts that " the admiral had sent 
 word to Guise some days before to take care of himself, for 
 there was a man hired to murder him." If this latter 
 statement were true, who hired him ? Certainly not Co- 
 ligny, or he would not give the information. If he ever 
 gave it, he was not an accomplice. It should be noted that 
 
 * A strong effort had been made by the Guises some months before 
 to have Coligny condemned as a rebel. Calvin writes : " The coun- 
 cillors who refused to condemn the admiral and his brother Andelot 
 have been thrown into prison." Letter dcxxxvi., 27 Dec, 1562. This 
 desire to crush the Chatillons would lead them to make their own use 
 of Poltrot.
 
 THROUGH WAIi TO PKAri:. 345 
 
 assassination was not then held in such disgrace as it is now. 
 It was a part of warfare among the Southern nations to 
 repay violent deeds in kind. That Coligny ever acted on 
 this bad principle is not proved, but we can see how a 
 fanatic, hearing constantly of" the butcher of Vassy," might 
 ])ersuade himself to take the life of Guise. The soldiers 
 might carelessly speak of such a deed without any malicious 
 intentions. 
 
 4. Certain concessions of the admii'al. lie admitted that 
 after the Vassy affair he heard some one say that he would 
 kill the duke ; and that when he last met Poltrot this mar 
 talked about how easy it would be to kill him, but Coligny 
 " looked upon it as mere idle talk" — (he ridiculed it, says 
 De Serres) — "yet during the last five or six months, I 
 have no longer contested the matter against those who have 
 showed such a will,* and that because I had information 
 that certain persons, whom I will name in fit time,t had 
 been practiced upon to kill me, as your majesty may re- 
 member I told her. . . ." This admission was so honest 
 that no accomplice would have made it. Beza says that 
 many of the admiral's friends were not pleased, for his 
 enemies might infer too much from it, but he replied that 
 he wished to give the whole truth, so that if he were con- 
 fronted nothing should be unconfessed to his disadvantage, 
 lie would be frank, whatever the consequences. He claims 
 a neutrality in the matter charged, or admits that he was 
 not active in preventing the destruction of one who sought 
 his own life. But he knew of no definite plot, nor wilful 
 assassin. He gave no assent, no permission; he simply did 
 
 * " J'ay estd contrariant tl cela, reserve cinq oii six mois en ya, que 
 je n'ay pas fort conteste contre ceiix qui monstrolcnt avolt telle vo- 
 lante." — Admirars Letter to Catherine. 
 
 t The response sliows tliat he means Guise and his brother the 
 cardinal.
 
 346 ADMIRAL COLIGXY. 
 
 nothing in the case of a mere possibility. He did not ex- 
 pect such a crime. This concession of negativeness is the 
 most that can be sustained against him. In an age more 
 enlightened than his we must regret that he did not per- 
 severe in " hindering such enterprises by every means in 
 his power." The very fact that he had " often opposed 
 them" may have made him the more careless. 
 
 5. There is another admission, which no guilty man 
 would be forward in avowing : " Do not imagine, however, 
 that what I say proceeds from any regret occasioned by the 
 death of Guise. I esteem it the greatest good that could 
 have come to the kingdom, to the Church of God, and par- 
 ticularly to myself and all my house. If it so please your 
 majesty, it shall prove the means of securing repose to this 
 realm." If this was rejoicing over the death of the duke, 
 Coligny was not alone in it. The Huguenots joined in 
 thanksgiving. The excellent Cecil of England " was very 
 glad of the duke's hurt, and could wish his soul in heaven." 
 Even Catherine spoke freely : " The man is dead whom I 
 hated most of all the world." Conde remarked that a great 
 burden was removed, and she replied, " If the kingdom has 
 been relieved of one burden, ten have been taken off my 
 bosom."* 
 
 6. The positive denial of complicity : " I again declare 
 that it will be found [if you allow me to confront Poltrot] 
 that I never sought out this man, or any other to commit 
 such an act. ... I never solicited, or instigated any one 
 to such a deed, either by word, money or promise." The 
 
 * The papists never lamented with more display. The pope or- 
 dered a splendid funeral ceremony. At Notre Dame, in Paris, a dig- 
 nitary extolled the duke, saying that he would not pray for him, for it 
 was an insult to a martyr to pray for his soul. He would reckon him 
 among the saint's, only out of respect for the pope who had not can- 
 onized him ! We do not find that he has yet been canonized.
 
 TlIROUr.IT WAR TO PEACE. 347 
 
 solemn word ol' sucli a man must weigh down the variable 
 oath of an assassin. Castelnau says, " The admiral was 
 always willing to purge himself, and he called it a villainous 
 act." The Guises were pressing the charge to the very end 
 of his life, but they never brought forward any new evi- 
 dence. Coligny offered fresh papers ; we shall again see 
 the result. 
 
 Now the flact that Coligny was not granted a hearing in 
 the very face of his accuser; the fact that Poltrot was not 
 released upon his confession, and the fact that he was hurried 
 out of the world in a most horrible manner, all tend to 
 brand his statements as utterly false.* After his recanta- 
 tion of the charges before De Thou, he took them up again 
 when tortured and questioned in his dying hour. And this 
 might be expected of such a man when being torn with hot 
 pincers and pulled limb from limb by four horses. As a 
 witness, he was worthless ; as an assassin, he endured the 
 iidiuman penalty of that age. The wife of M. de Thore 
 Montmorency was one of the ladies at the execution, seeing 
 the accuser of her husband's cousin die. So great was the 
 horror that she died upon the spot. 
 
 The Abbe le Labourer says, "It is utterly false that the 
 admiral, or any chief of that party, had any hand in that 
 conspiracy" against the Duke of Guise. Lacratelle closes 
 the case by saying, "If the previous life of the admiral be 
 an answer to this terrible accusation, what he afterward 
 did in two other civil wars still better repels the charge. 
 How could a man, capable of such a crime, have so con- 
 stantly abstained from the fury of vengeance and reprisals 
 which appeared lawful?" The candid Abbe Millot says, 
 " Nothing was less likely than this accusation, if we may 
 judge from the character of tliose who were the objects of 
 
 * "Rrowning, Hist. IIiij;iU'ii<i(s, siroiigly argues llio case for the ad- 
 miral oil the more ciroumstantiai jrrounds.
 
 348 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 it.* .... As hatred strengthens the most unjust prejudices, 
 Henry of Guise, the eldest son of the duke, conceived from 
 this moment the design of ruining Coligny." These are 
 not Protestant opinions, nor is that of Voltaire, who exoner- 
 ates the admiral. It was the shame of certain Huguenots 
 to sing verses in praise of the assassin, as the Judith of his 
 age, the "liberator of France." f 
 
 And yet France was, iinquestionably, a freer land. Over 
 court and cottage passed a breath of peace. Catherine was 
 out of bondage, for the reign of the Triumvirs was ended. 
 The royal army had no able, commander. "I was obliged 
 to command it myself," she said, "for Brissac was ill." 
 French soldiers longed to get home. The people were suf- 
 fering. Pea.sants had left their farms, fields were abandoned, 
 villages desolate or in ashes and towns deserted. Agricul- 
 
 * He names Bcza, who wrote to Calvin: "The tyrannicide on his 
 trial and amid liis tortures a liundred times declared me innocent of 
 all participation in the murder." 
 
 f Calvin's opinion may be desired. The Duchess of Ferrara (Re- 
 tire), wrote to him about her late son-in-law : " I know that he was a 
 persecutor, but I do not know nor believe that he is reprobated of 
 God, for he gave signs of a Christian man before his death." She 
 complained that the ministers " blackened his memory." Calvin re- 
 plied : " A good cause [that of relieving the persecuted] has been very 
 ill-conducted. . . . For my own part, though I have often prayed 
 God to show him mercy, yet it is certain that I have often desired 
 tliat God should lay his hand on him [Guise], in order to deliver out 
 of his hands the poor Church, unless it pleased God to convert him. 
 So that I may protest that before the war, I had but to give my con- 
 sent to have him exterminated by those men of prompt and ready 
 execution, who were bent on that object, and who were restrained by my 
 exhortation. To pronounce that he is damned, however, is to go too 
 far, unless one had some certain and infallible mark of his reproba- 
 tion I bless God for liaving made known to you the real cha- 
 racter of the admiral to inspire you with a taste for his probity. When 
 it shall please him he will do tlie rest." — Letters, dclxiv.
 
 THROUGH WAR TO PEACE. 349 
 
 ture had been given up by those wiio were " robbed to-day 
 by one party, to-morrow by another ;" commerce had ceased, 
 and tlie mills stood idle. "No one was secure in property 
 or life,"* says Castclnau. "Thus the war for religion de- 
 stroyed both religion and piety." 
 
 As a specimen of the towns to which relief came by the 
 death of Guise, we take Montargis. It had the advantage 
 of Madame Rente's protection. Its inhabitants were famed 
 of old for their rudeness toward citizens or luckless travel- 
 lers. But the "Lady Kesident" was doing something for 
 their instruction, and they bowed low when the daughter 
 of Louis XII. smiled upon her people. Her old, vast castle 
 was ever open to refugees ; more than three hundred Hu- 
 guenots were sheltered and fed within its walls. Francis 
 Morel was her chief minister. When the news of Vassy 
 reached her, she ordered the gates of the town to be guarded, 
 that neither Papist nor Huguenot might pass. But there 
 was one Barreau, warden of the largest church, who i)ut 
 himself at the head of the seditious cli({ues, and they armed, 
 fully resolved to rush forth at midnight and cut the throats 
 of all Protestants on whom they could lay hands. They 
 used the great church as their military quarters. 
 
 "The bailiff* will punish severely all persons who hold 
 meetings b}' day or by night," was madame's order. Yet, 
 on the second evening after this nearly seven hundred 
 rioters gathered, and, with " noise louder than the sound of 
 tocsin," fell upon a poor blind innkeeper, almost killed his 
 wife, and were soon at the house of Claude Chaperon, " an 
 elder of the religion," who had not the grace to let them 
 slay him. ^Madame sent to Orleans, not far dista"ut, and 
 
 * The leader of one of the wild p^anp^s o.illed Barefcct shouted, 
 " There are too many people in Fnuice ; we will kill a lot of them 
 and make bread cheap." De Serres [Hits such words into the m/)uth 
 of the Duke of Guise. — White, 
 Vol. I.— 30
 
 350 ADMIRAL COLIGXY. 
 
 some of Conde's troopers quelled the mob, took their arms 
 into the castle, hung three ringleaders and reduced all to 
 good order. Montargis was the refuge for more of the per- 
 secuted, some of them Romanists. They came from Blois, 
 Tours, Sens and Paris, sixty miles away.* 
 
 Conde's soldiers left madame to provide her own guard, 
 and soon the raiders of Guise threw terror into the place. 
 She was "marvellously anxious" for the safety of the poor 
 Huguenots and their families, who might be exposed to the 
 insults of merciless visitors. " I advise you to retire to the 
 country," she said to her ministers, " until the storm is 
 over." They started, and fell into the hands of " the 
 Scotch guards," who said, " These must be good men ; they 
 don't swear like other people ;" and then led them " to the 
 haven where they would be." The castle was now the 
 general resort. It was overflowing with poor men, women 
 and children, and resembled a hospital. The Guises came 
 to make it their headquarters, placing an army upon the 
 town. Every Huguenot trembled, but madame threw her 
 shield over all in her chateau. In the town the soldiers 
 took their wild vengeance, tearing up the seats of the Prot- 
 estant temple, destroying the pulpit and erecting their 
 altars and images.f 
 
 * "You have been as a nursinsr-mother to those pool- persecuted 
 bretliren wlio knew not wliere to flee. Many a princess would have 
 taken it as an insult to have her castle called Gotl's hostelry." — Calvin 
 to the Duchess, dcxlvii. 
 
 f " As to my late son-in-law (Guise), any one may have proof that I 
 did not swerve in anything on his account, and may see that he rather 
 swerved from his course to protect me and mine. It should be known 
 whether he did not also exert himself that Chatillon, which belongs 
 to the admiral, should not be confiscated nor sacked. I am well aware 
 that some persons do not wish these facts to be known. I say it before 
 God, who knows the truth of it. Yet I would not excuse the failings 
 of my son-in-law." In this apology Madame Kenee does not, how-
 
 Tiinorrnr wak to peace. 3-51 
 
 Tlie Duke of Guise took from his mother-in-law the 
 guardianship of Montargis, set over it a renegade Protest- 
 ant, forbade her to allow the ga«pel to her servants and 
 finally ordered her to leave "that nest of Huguenots." 
 He was now the only Triumvir in power, and his tyranny 
 was excessive. She refused to go : she was aged, ill and 
 yet courageous, A messenger came with Catherine's cx- 
 jtreiss orders; she still did not pack up her trunks. Then 
 came Malicorne with four companies of horse to strike 
 terror in the heart of one woman and compel her to sub- 
 mit. It was chivalrous! She saw the townsmen open the 
 gates to the cavalry. The furious mob vied with them in 
 savageness. They dragged a poor Huguenot from his sick- 
 bed, beat him, tormented him, and he threw himself into 
 tlie river Loing to drown, rather than be butchered. They 
 fired upon him, drew him out and cut him to j^ieces with 
 daggers. Still madame wa.s unterrified. 
 
 "You demand my surrender," she replied to the sum- 
 mons. " You order me to go to one of the king's palaces. 
 I understand it. Those places are near Paris, and not for- 
 tified. I should there be in danger of slaughter, which the 
 king, my nephew, does not intend. I shall wait until you 
 biing me his command." A messenger was sent to Charles. 
 
 But the Chevalier Mai icorne, eager to display a Guisean 
 spirit, made further threats: "A party will storm the 
 citadel with battering engines ; I have sent Biron to Or- 
 leans for cannon," (the duke was now besieging that city). 
 Kenee answered the ujtstart right royally: " Beware what 
 you do. No one in all France has authority over me, 
 except my king. Bring on your artillery if you dare. I 
 will put myself in the breach and, at tlie risk of my life, 
 
 ever, contradict the facts of history. It is gratifying to find tliat some 
 clieck was put upon tlie rough soldiery, from whose liand.s the barest 
 escape was a matter of gratitude.
 
 352 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 try whether you, or any other man, be so foolhardy as to 
 dare slay the daughter of the l)e,st and mightiest of kings!"* 
 
 "No firing just at present," thought Malicorne, as he 
 quailed before a courage unspeakably above his own, for 
 he was hoping to enrich himself by plundering the shel- 
 tered Huguenots, four of whom were royal officers of high 
 degree. He thirsted for the blood of the ministers. But 
 God ordained his disappointment, says Beza. Guise fell 
 by the assassin. Malicorne had no more a master " to 
 whom he looked for further promotion," and he went to 
 Orleans. " Thus was Montargis preserved with its refugees, 
 each of whom afterward retired to his house in hope of 
 enjoying the edict of peace." 
 
 On one day a genuine Huguenot lady — the wife of 
 Conde — was in her parlour at Orleans, talking with her 
 grand-uncle, the prisoner Montmorency. They talked of 
 peace. " Yes, anything to get out of this pack of psalm- 
 singers," thinks the Bench-burner. Another day, Catherine 
 sends for the princely captive; she and Conde talk of 
 peace and the lieutenant-generalship. "Almost anything 
 for that," is his thought. The soft air of the court charms 
 him. Another day, Conde and Montmorency are walking 
 arm-in-arm on an island of the Loire, at Orleans, and they 
 are talking of peace and the January edict. The old 
 papist flies into a rage : " That edict shall never be re- 
 stored. Every one Avho had a hand in drawing it up 
 ought to be flayed alive." Conde must dilute his medi- 
 cine, if he would allay the evils of war. Why not wait 
 
 * Beza, Hist, des Eglises ; Memorials of Duchess Renee. " You 
 are solicited to permit the shops of the papists to be pillaged. I take 
 good care not to approve of such a step, wlioever may have taken it. 
 I commend you for resisting so unjust a demand. ... I know you 
 will set an example of charity to those who know not what it is." — 
 Calvin, Letters, dclxiv.
 
 TirnoTJGir wah to peat k. 353 
 
 for Coligny to arrive from the north? Catherine knows 
 that his terms will embrace some of the solidities of liberty. 
 
 We need not wonder that Cond^' was pcrsnaded to ar- 
 ranfje a quiet pillow for the sallow, shivering, ague-stricken 
 Andelot, and to stretch forth his hand and seize the bridles 
 of Coligny's sweeping cavalry. The prince was ambitious. 
 It seemed that his hour had come — an hour of office for 
 himself and of fivvour for the Huguenots. Death had 
 crept up to Rouen and by a random stroke had vacated 
 for him his brother's position next to the king. Death had 
 slipped through the copsewood at Dreux and given one of 
 the six Guise brothers a mortal wound, and another a fatal 
 cold. Death had gone to Orleans, and, with fanatical bold- 
 ness, laid low the duke on whom all activity in France 
 seemed to depend. " That single shot shattered the Cath- 
 olic confederacy and changed the politics of Europe. The 
 Guise family fell with their head into sudden ruin." To 
 one of them Coligny had attended at Caen ; to another 
 heavy work was given at the council of Trent ; and only 
 one of them now was at court, "the Cardinal of Guise, the 
 single member of the family who had no capacity." Death, 
 too, had removed >St. Andre, the decoyer emj)loyed by the 
 women's faction. The Triumvirate was broken : only Mont- 
 morency remained, and he a jjrisoner at Orleans; he would 
 veer and favour again the Chalillons. AVhat a thinning 
 out of the great leaders and politicians! A new order of 
 things must come. "Why should not Conde inaugurate it? 
 Why should he not break forth from the cloud of years 
 and show himself the statesman for the times, the grand- 
 master of France, the lifter-up of her fallen head, the 
 Bourbon who should crown her with glory, the j)rince of 
 Protestantism and the chieftain of a league against the 
 pope and Philip of Spain? Ambition dictated i)eace. 
 
 Coligny had won almost all Lower Norjuandy, and was 
 30 »
 
 354 ADMIRAT. rOLTGNY, 
 
 arranging for a splendid allianrc with England. He liad 
 " great hopes of more success ;" at least he would secure 
 the good edict of January, on which Chandieu and other 
 seventy ministers were insisting with such extreme zeal as 
 to desire no tolerance to be given to " atheists and Anabap- 
 tists." But just when the admiral saw his party stronger 
 than ever, a courier came flying into Caen with the news, 
 " Peace is restored ; lay down arms." It was amazing. It 
 aroused his indignation. The articles wonderfully cut 
 down the Huguenot liberties. But might he not push 
 forward, reach Orleans before the paper was signed and 
 prevent the wreck of his hopes? It was a long and peril- 
 ous ride. He set out with his choicest cavalry, smiting 
 towns that disputed his way and throwing certain priests 
 into a fright. He reached Orleans : it was too late. The 
 treaty of Amboise had been signed five days before. 
 
 " I could not help it," said Conde. " The queen threat- 
 ened to make a stronger attack upon Orleans." He did 
 not say that the soft air of the court had charmed him. 
 The arts that had ruined his brother Antony were brought 
 to bear upon him. That "flying squadron" of court ladies 
 had him quite in their hands. 
 
 " You have sacrificed the cause of God," replied the 
 admiral. " You have ruined more churches by one stroke 
 of the pen than the enemy could have done by ten years 
 of war." The articles of the treaty which concern us are 
 these : that the Huguenots should be regarded as loyal 
 subjects ; that all foreign soldiers be sent out of the king- 
 dom ; that all captured churches and temples be restored 
 to the proper parties ; that (instead of the suburbs of every 
 town) the suburbs of one town in each bailiwick be as- 
 signed for Protestant meetings ; and that the nobility and 
 gentry be allowed to hold worshij) in their own houses with 
 their tenants. " It favours the gentlemen," said the ad-
 
 THKnl'f.lI WAR TO PKAfK. .JOO 
 
 niiriil ; " but what of tlie pooi-, ulio luive t'uuglit as bravely 
 as the nobles? They must walk weary miles — women, 
 childrin, the feeble and aged — or have no public worship. 
 ]\Iany will relapse into Romanism." The Huguenots soon 
 found that the treaty was a rope of sand. 
 
 " The conditions of the late peace are so much to our 
 disadvantage that we have reason to invoke God more than 
 ever to have compassion upon us and remedy such extrem- 
 ities. One thing is certain : we must hold down our heads 
 and humble ourselves before God, who has admirable issues 
 in his hand, though the beginnings are such as to astonish 
 us. I cannot dissemble that everybody is displeased with 
 the prince for showing himself so accommodating, and still 
 more for being in such a hurry to conclude. It seems 
 ])retty evident, also, that he has provided better for his own 
 personal safety than for the common repose of the j:)oor 
 brethren. But we ought to close our mouths, since it is 
 God's will to afHict us. I shall always give my advice to 
 abstain from arms. Better perish than have another war. 
 God will bring light out of darkness."* 
 
 * Calvin's Ipttcr to Ma<lame de Rove. The articles of tlie treaty 
 are in his letter, No. dexl., in whicli lie says to Bullinger, "The other 
 brother ha.s betrayed us. The Inst of power ha.s blinded liim." Nor 
 was the treaty acceptable to the pope and Philip, wiio must ever be 
 taken into account, for they wished notiiing short of extermination 
 of heresy — the one being moved by zeal and the otlier partly by self- 
 isliness, for Philip liojicd to keep France in trouble, so that his tyranny 
 in till' Netlierlands mi'rlit not be checked.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. • 
 
 VXDEIt A. CLOID. 
 (15G3-1.50i.) 
 
 THREE movements were now in progress. The whole 
 force of the Guises was directed against Admiral Co- 
 ligny, to overwhelm him with charges of complicity in the 
 murder of the duke. The whole power of flattery, " that 
 engine of courts," was brought to bear upon Conde, to sepa- 
 rate him for ever from the Protestant cause. These two 
 points gained, the Huguenots might be swept from the 
 earth. A third scheme seemed more patriotic ; it was the 
 recovery of Havre from the English. It might enlist all 
 parties, and serve as a means of uniting them. The first 
 and last of these three proceedings fill large pages in his- 
 tory.* We shall gather up only what is most important, 
 
 Into the various papers and defences of Coligny we can- 
 not fully enter, nor is it necessary. But the affair was a 
 drama, with its scenes enacted wherever the court sojourned 
 for long months. The king could not get rid of it. All 
 Europe was interested in the fact of Coligny's innocence, 
 and in the result of the efforts made to destroy him. It 
 brought France to a new crisis. 
 
 The drama was opened by an imposing scene at court, 
 devised by skilful managers, who made their stroke in be- 
 half of the late Duke of Guise. His mother and Anne his 
 
 * Various papers in Mem. de Conde; Tliiiani, Hist. Mezeray, Perau, 
 Castelnau, Davila, Vita Culinii, Memoires relatifs .^ I'Histoire de 
 France. 
 356
 
 TTXDER A f'LOUD. 357 
 
 ^vitlo^v, with the children, veik;cl women filling the air with 
 their cries tnd groans, and a train of relatives, all robed in 
 black, came into the king's ])re.sence with all possible cere- 
 mony. The two duchesses knelt before him, and solemnly 
 uttered the word "Justice!" The king offered to raise 
 them up, when they a^ked him to institute a close inquiry 
 intt) the foul crime which had brought dest)lation into their 
 family. If Catherine had not arranged the affiiir, she gave 
 a promise tliat the case should be investigated, and thus 
 fanned the flames of party strife. 
 
 The Guises took their leave, not suspecting that their 
 visit was to work against themselves, and strengthen the 
 nuin whom they sought to crush. Odet Coligny was 
 coming to court. He had laid aside his red hat and Papal 
 robes soon after his conversion to the truth, and assumed 
 the title of Count of lieauvais. The pope knew all about 
 his support of Protestant preaching, and his contempt of 
 Koman honours. Pius IV. was not the man to let one who 
 might have aspired to the Papal chair rest (piiet in his 
 heresy. He was shocked at " the monstrous deformity" of 
 religion in France. Referring to such men as Odet de 
 Chatillun, Montluc, Bishop of Valence,* and Caraccioli, the 
 Reformer at Troyes, he was accustomed to say, " These 
 masked heretics do more harna than those who are out- 
 spoken in public." As there was no Inquisition in France 
 to drag them, and others like them, before it, he cited them 
 to appear at Rome, and purge themselves of the charge of 
 heri'sy. But they had no relish for the purgatives of an 
 inquisitorial committee so far away. The pope had no 
 right thus to summon them. The liberties of the Gallicaii 
 
 * The bishops of Valence aiul of Moiitpelier are set clown as Pro- 
 testants by the editor of Rabelais' works. Gabutius mentions seven 
 French bisliopa wlio were deposed for heresy. — PuHcij of Chiuch of 
 
 Ruvw.
 
 358 ADMIRAL COLTGXY. 
 
 Cliureli assured to every bishop a trial by twelve of his own 
 rank and country. The pope was angry. He was prepar- 
 ing an excommunication for Chatillon, who chose a wife 
 and was married in his cardinal's cap and robes.* In these 
 he often appeared at court, or in parliament, or on very 
 ceremonious occasions, as an irony upon the pope's charge 
 of being a " masked heretic." His wife was the excellent 
 Elizabeth de Hautville, who was often styled Madame le 
 Cardinal. 
 
 Calvin wrote to Coligny, saying: "We are very sorry 
 that the journey of the count has been retarded, for it is 
 very desirable that he should be at court. But we see that 
 he had good reasons to delay, lest he should expose himself 
 to danger, and also to sound the disposition of the people. 
 We thank God that you have resolved to go as soon as he 
 shall arrive thither, and inform you that there is no risk." 
 It was Catherine and Conde who informed the admiral of 
 the risk, so that after he came he was persuaded to return 
 to Chatillon, leaving his friends to defend him. Odet 
 protested against the promise made by the king to the 
 Guise duchesses. His brother, the admiral, as a Huguenot, 
 could hardly obtain justice from men who were partizans. 
 " Very true," thought the king. 
 
 " But we must press the matter," whispered Catherine in 
 the ear of her son, "and thus induce Cond^ to discard 
 Coligny." What cared she for accused or accusers, if she 
 might only divide and reign ? 
 
 * Sarpi, Pallavicino. Calvin wrote to the admiral: "Touching 
 the cardinal's hat, we know very well that it is not a thhig of sucli 
 importance as many people would make it. But you are aware that 
 we cannot altogether exculpate him. In conscience we cannot help 
 Baying that there was a certain degree of levity in his conduct in that 
 matter. We would show those who are offended, and who make war 
 upon liim tliat it is pardonable, and that we highly esteem him as Le 
 daserves." — Letter to Coligny, oth July, 1563.
 
 UNDER A CLOUD. 359 
 
 " We must not pursue the case," said certiiin nieiubcrs 
 of pivrliament. " If we do, we risk another civil war. 
 There is not a Huguenot who will refuse to defend his 
 leader." Yet proceedings were begun. Coligny must be 
 ruined wlule Conde was under temptation. Not a stone 
 must be left unturned, if it would let loose a viper to hiss 
 in evidence against the admiral. It was another crisis. 
 The tongues of nearly all France were engaged in discuss- 
 ing the (picstions involved. We can touch only the leading 
 points. 
 
 "Let there be a fair trial," demanded the entire Hugue- 
 not nol)ility. " Let the queen-mother be asked why she did 
 not permit the admiral to confront the man who quenched 
 that firebrand which for thirteen months threw all France 
 into a blaze. AVe, too, demand justice. Let inquiry be 
 nuide whether the Guises have not sent their agents to take 
 the life of our great leader." This loud remonstrance could 
 not be hushed. 
 
 " My brother wishes a hearing," said Andelot to Cathe- 
 rine. "His conscience is clear before God, and he is ready 
 to make clear his actions before his proper judges." The 
 hypocritical queen was troubled ; the haste in executing 
 Poltrot was creating a suspicion against herself. 
 
 " This is an odious persecution," was the purj)ort of 
 Conde's addresses and long letters. "The admiral is about 
 to be hounded to death — but not if I can help it. Goods, 
 office, lil'e, everything, I am ready to lay down in the de- 
 fence of my best friend, the uncle of my wife, the man who 
 has rendered to the state his earnest services, and who wa.s 
 not the author of the late war, whether that war be consid- 
 ered just or rebellious. Madame, that innocent, fearless 
 man was on his way hither, anxious to present his case to 
 you. He was unwilling to hide in a corner, as a guilty 
 wretch in dread of the law. It was at your reqiiest that
 
 360 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 I drew him aside and shoAved him his danger: I argued 
 and finally prevailed. I sent him back to Chatillon, and 
 there he groans under the burden of these charges.* There 
 he draws his wife and children around him, and waits to 
 know whether he is to be torn from them by fair but rude 
 hands. . . . The enmity of the Guises against the Chatil- 
 lons is notorious. Religion has divided them. I beseech 
 you, do not allow the name and the power of the king to be 
 used in so perverting religion that it shall be made to favour 
 the one house or the other. Let each be treated on the 
 ground of legal justice." Catherine was foiled. The 
 prince would never discard his truest friend. 
 
 With these words a crisis passed. The scale had turned, 
 and yet a tremendous hand was laid to the beam. It was 
 that of the whole house of ]\Iontmorency. The aged baron, 
 the last of the Triumvirate, was won back to the old regard 
 for his nephews — one good result of the vigorous attack 
 upon Coligny. '• I take up the cause of my injured cousin," 
 said Francis Montmorency, who had taken Conde prisoner 
 at Dreux, and who now rose as the prince sat down in 
 the council. (And here we remark that the civil wars of 
 France were generally caused by the strifes between rival 
 houses — the Guises against the Bourbons — but the Mont- 
 morenciesf had just sided against the Chatillons. Coligny 
 must have been touched to see them take his part so stoutly 
 at this critical moment.) " It is the intention of the con- 
 stable, my father, to sustain his nephews as his own chil- 
 
 * Coligny had followed np his written defence bv leaving home and 
 going to St. Germain with a company of nearly ?ix hundred gentlemen. 
 
 f "The constable grows milder every day. . . . The constable un- 
 flinchingly defends the edict [of Aniboise] which confers liberty on 
 our churches, guarantees security to them, and gives it as liis opinion 
 that the edict ouglit to be maintained Intact." — Calviii's Letters, 2d 
 July and dth September, 1563.
 
 UNDKK A CT,uri). 361 
 
 dreii, and to emj)loy in their favour all his credit and 
 power. In his name, in the name of the whole family, I 
 protest against this assault upon the admiral, and in his 
 defence I offer my sword, my goods, my life." 
 
 Catherine trembled. She wished she had never seen the 
 widowed Guises, nor promised them their sort of "justice." 
 A thousand swords might leap from their scabbards to 
 silence the accusers of her safest counsellor. The whole 
 council saw the frightful verge on which hung the govern- 
 ment. The king took alarm. The result was an order for 
 the two parties to hush all proceedings, retire to their homes 
 and wait for calmer days and cooler judgments. 
 
 To unite all parties in a patriotic work, the summons had 
 gone fortli for Papist and Huguenot to drive the English 
 from Havre. Guisard and Bourbon rcsjionded, greatly to 
 the surprise of Elizabeth. Conde, now lured into the nets 
 of the court, blinded by a wicked passion, and ready to 
 follow the gay flatterers wherever bound, cheerfully assented 
 to Catherine when she laughingly said, " You led the Eng- 
 lish into France, and now you are obliged to drive them 
 out." But tlic Chatillons, less forgetful of the bargain 
 with Elizabeth, and quite certain that they would soon 
 need her kindly aid again, excused themselves. "My 
 affairs at Chatillon require attention," said the admiral. 
 "And I must shake off these killing agues," said Andelot.* 
 They were excused, but their old Huguenot soldiers fought 
 at Havre so cordially by the side of their late foes that the 
 chancellor, proud of his work in the last edict, looked on 
 with honest exultation, saying, "Behold the effect of a 
 paeifieation of which some have dared to complain. It 
 reunites tlie royal family, restores to us our brothers, estab- 
 
 * Tlieir uncle was almost as averse to the enterprise. " It is with 
 groat diflicnltv that the constable has been at length induceil to lead 
 an array against the English." — Calvin, 2d July, 1563. 
 Vol. I. — 31
 
 362 ADMIKAL CULIGNY. 
 
 lishes public safety, and once more renders the nation 
 respectable for its virtue and power." Sir Chancellor, wait 
 a little! Havre was regained.* "Let our gratitude be 
 expressed," said the queen-mother, " by founding a grand 
 hospital for maimed soldiers, giving them a home for life, 
 on the plan which the admiral has so often suggested." It 
 was to be a sort of Hotel des Invalides. Had Coligny been 
 favoured, the project might not have failed. 
 
 Beza tells us that the admiral and Andelot — the one 
 having lost his eldest son and the other his eldest daughter 
 — being now again at home, celebrated the Lord's supper at 
 Easter, which was done with great rejoicings on the part of 
 those of the Religion, who gave many thanks to God for 
 the present state of their affairs. A few days afterward 
 the admiral came to his seat of justice, invoked the name 
 of God and commanded that the sittings should thenceforth 
 open with prayer, according to a form w'hich he soon had 
 engraved on a tablet and placed in the hall. Jean Malot, 
 his minister, spoke of the causes of the late calamities, ex- 
 horting the magistrates to act justly and the subjects to live 
 in obedience to their superiors. Also, said he, " let the 
 admiral look well to these things." 
 
 "To this work," replied Coligny, "may the Lord spare 
 me to devote the rest of my life. In gratitude for what 
 God has done, by giving us peace in so short a time, and to 
 encourage all the officers of justice, I shall increase your 
 
 * "The house of Guise was under eclipse. . . . The policy of France 
 was again ready to be moderate, national, anti-SpanLsh, anti-papal — ■ 
 to be all which England would mo.st desire to see it. It was im{)era- 
 tively necessary that Elizabeth should make peace, that she endure as 
 best she might the supposed ingralitude of Cond^, and accept the 
 easiest terras to which Catherine de Medici would now consent." By 
 the terms Elizabeth was not denied her claim to Calais in 1567, of 
 which the Huguenot leaders would again take advantage. — Froudc's 
 Enyland, yiii. 60.
 
 UNDER A fl.OUD. 3G3 
 
 salaries. If any oflor you bribes, cluistiiie tliem severely. 
 I am apprised that during my absence many have griev- 
 ously offended me, both by word and deed ; but I forgive 
 the past ; I expect better things in future. I pray you all 
 to give diligent heed to the word of God, and I will do all 
 in my power to have it preached to you all, as the king's 
 edicts allow." 
 
 " But the last edict takes away our church from us," said 
 some of the people. " You have been occupying the church 
 which you took from the priests during the war. You must 
 restore it. Let them come back and take it if they choose. 
 We can go into the open fields." But the priests refused 
 to resume their offices at Chatillon. The church was neg- 
 lected, and the Protestants again used it for their worship.* 
 
 Riding one day with Andelot into the town, he came 
 upon a poor " gentleman " — for many even of the nobles 
 were in distress — and he said to his brother, " It cannot be 
 pleasing to God that we should go so well clad and com- 
 fortable while this poor gentleman is so destitute. He is 
 of the same rank with us, and just as much a patriot as we 
 are. If there be any difference, it is that he has suffered 
 more, and yet has more patience." The wanderer was 
 clothed and given every needed comfort. 
 
 On a day when he was setting out for church he put his 
 alms-money in his pocket to cast it into the treasury. 
 
 .* "All things are peaceable at Lyons. The priests are moderate; 
 nay, they fawn upon our brethren. They have as yet got up but one 
 mass, and that on a profane altar, there being no consecrated one. At 
 Montpelier, Nisnies and otlier cities our brethren are still in possession 
 of the churches, because no one of the opposite party ventures to claim 
 them." (City councils often permitted or enjoined that the Protestants 
 should hold these churches.) Ten days later : " In the provinces they 
 obstinately refuse to admit our brethren. In the long run they will 
 have to be compelled by force of arms, and despair is driving them on 
 to reckless courses."— Calvin, 19lh and 29th July, loG3.
 
 364 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 Meeting a man Avhom war had impoverished, he unwit- 
 tingly put his hand in the wrong pocket and gave him 
 several pieces of gold, and went on his way. After the 
 public worship, Coligny was returning, and the pauper, who 
 had been amazed at the largeness of the gift, was waiting 
 for him. "Sir," said he, " I cannot think that it was your 
 intention to give me so great a sum. I am not so dishonest 
 as to take advantage of your carelessness." 
 
 " True, my good man," replied Coligny. " It was my 
 mistake, but your honesty shall be rewarded. I shall leave 
 it all with you." Nor was this the end. The admiral 
 made him his guest at the castle, finding him " an example 
 of virtue." Learning one day that a very diffident woman 
 was at his door, begging only for her starving infant, the 
 admiral took the most generous charge of her and her 
 family. 
 
 In such deeds Coligny was happiest. He founded hos- 
 pitals in his villages for the sick and persecuted, workshops 
 for the vagabonds, schools for the children and parishes for 
 all who hungered for the w ord of life. AVhile a Romanist, 
 he had been charitable and earnest in elevating the people 
 around him. One of his biographers naively says that 
 " he did not discontinue this good work after he yielded to 
 the new religion ; the change -vwas in this : in place of the 
 priests, he brought in the ministers." * 
 
 And yet his life was not safe. About this period his 
 enemies put the assassin upon his track. He had for some 
 years in his service a man of noble birth, named Hambre- 
 villiers, who sent letters to "certain persons, whom it 
 would now be improper to name," says his first biogra- 
 pher,f and promising that he would soon execute his com- 
 mission. The letters fell into hands which were not in the 
 secret, and were sent to Coligny. He could not believe that 
 * Courtiltz, Perau. f Vita Colinii.
 
 UNDKR A CLOID. 305 
 
 his servant, su Lonc:<t and faillilul Ibr years, was iiivulved 
 in the plot, but justice demanded an inquiry. He sent for 
 him and desired an cxphmation. "1 am surprised that 
 you think me engaged in such a foul work," said liambre- 
 villiers, with an air of injured innocence. "I deny having 
 written aiiy such letter." 
 
 " I am glad of it," replied C'oliguy ; " but as it is import- 
 ant for me to be sure, I beg you to take a pen and show me 
 your handwriting." The man could not refuse, but he was 
 so alarmed that his penmanship betrayed him as the author 
 of the letter. "I am convinced," said the admiral, "and 
 you must be also by this time." The traitor threw himself 
 at the feet of Coligny and begged for mercy. 
 
 " My only revenge shall be this," said the good admiral : 
 " I expel you from my service. You must inform those 
 who em])loyed you that there are other methods more hon- 
 ourable for getting rid of a man whom they wish to injure. 
 I will not ask who they are. As you are from Lorraine, I 
 forgive you. You may now consider yourself bound to 
 serve the house of Guise." Coligny thenceforth gave orders 
 for his steward to carefully inspect whatever went ujiou his 
 table. 
 
 The Colignys had their thoughts upon another siege, 
 more important to their cause of liberty and religion than 
 that of a northern sea-port. It was the temptation of Conde. 
 They saw their niece dying of grief, deserted by the prince 
 whom they had once persuaded her to accept as a husband, 
 and thus strengthened their Reformed party. It was she 
 who had risked everything to cheer him in his prison when 
 the sentence of death hung over him. It was she who had 
 knelt before the queen and besought his pardon. She, too, 
 had a noble part in the late treaty. She had nursed the 
 veteran Montmorency while a prisoner at Orleans. She 
 had gone to the queen and entreated for peace. She had 
 31 »
 
 366 ADMIRAL rOLIGXY. 
 
 won the freedom of her husband. And now, as a wife and 
 mother, she knew that he was playing the fool at a court 
 whose smooth arts had ruined his brother Antony. She 
 begged him to avoid the evil net, but neither her tears nor 
 her fatal sorrows could bring him to sobriety. Would he 
 prove a traitor to his cause ? 
 
 " Put not your trust in princes " was a lesson that was 
 not yet fully learned. There are times when very much 
 depends upon a man. None can deny it, however strong 
 the faith in Jehovah ; for he employs agents to exalt or 
 humiliate. It was so in the days of Joseph in Egypt, of 
 Esther and Ezra in Babylon, and of the elector who de- 
 fended Luther. From Edinburgh to Geneva, all felt that 
 the Reformed Church was at a crisis. Very much de- 
 pended upon Conde. The Romanists perceived it ; hence 
 their most artful exertions. One of their later writers says : 
 " Had Catherine made him lieutenant-general, as she had 
 promised, and as the peace of the kingdom required, he 
 would have changed his religion, or at least would never 
 again have made it an affair of the state, and by degrees 
 the zeal of the innovators, when irritated by no resistance, 
 might have declined." No doubt this was saying too much : 
 the writer knew neither Conde nor the temper of the Hu- 
 guenots. And yet there was ground for such an opinion. 
 
 Calvin knew the events hinged upon the conduct of the 
 prince. Let him express the general anxiety of the Re- 
 formed party : " Though the queen caresses the Prince of 
 Conde, yet the versatile and crafty woman inspires us with 
 very little or no confidence. Yet, destitute as she is of sin- 
 cerity, she would nevertheless comply with the prince if she 
 saw in him a prudent and magnanimous man. . . . Either 
 the faint-heartedness and cowardice of Conde outstrip all 
 belief, or we shall have some favourable changes ere long."* 
 * Letter to Bullinger, 2d July, 1563.
 
 UNDER A CLOUD. 'Mil 
 
 "At Paris, the queen encoiiriij^cs and inflames tlie furious 
 passions of the people. Every day new disturbances are 
 breaking out. The parliament is entirely without author- 
 ity. An armed rabble sets aside with impunity all its 
 decisions. AVhen robbers govern, licentiousness will pre- 
 vail. C'onde keeps silence."* 
 
 All along since the treaty of peace Calvin had been 
 writing to Conde, who was one of the most faithfully 
 ■warned men that ever lived : " If you do not make good 
 by your authority what you have gained for our brethren, 
 the peace will be like a body without a soul. Experience 
 has proved to you how audaciously the enemies of God un- 
 dertake to do evil, unless they be vigorously resisted. You 
 need not one word from me to point out to you how many 
 people are watching to get the upper hand. You know 
 their mameuvres ; if you give them leisure to surprise you, 
 they will not fail to profit by it, and when once they have 
 their foot in the stirrup, it will not be possible to restrain 
 them. Labour more than ever for the gospel, since God 
 holds out his hand to you. Prove yourself worthy in his 
 
 sight." t 
 
 " We beseech you not only to take under your protection 
 the cause of our Lord, so that the poor followers of God 
 may be left in peace and security, but also to testify by 
 your whole life that you have profited by the gospel of sal- 
 vation. Let your example edify the good as well as shut 
 the mouths of all gainsayers. Being raised to such a pre- 
 eminent rank, as you are gazed at from aliir, so beware that 
 men find nothing to blame in your conduct. You cannot 
 doubt, monseigneur, that we cherish your honour almost as 
 much as we desire your salvation. Now we should be 
 traitoi'^ to you if we left you in ignorance of the rumours 
 
 ♦ To Bullin.<,'cr, lOtli July, lor>3. 
 
 f To Conck', lOlli May, 1563 — slightly condensed.
 
 368 ADMIRAL COLIGXY. 
 
 that are flying about. Wc do not believe that at bottom 
 there is any evil in your conduct, or that God is directly 
 offended" — Calvin did not yet know the worst — " but when 
 we are told that you are making love to ladies, we think 
 that this greatly derogates from your authority and reputa- 
 tion. Good men will be grieved and the malicious will 
 laugh at it. There is also in that dissipation something 
 which prevents you from attending to your duty. Nay, it 
 is possible that in all this there may be a degree of worldly 
 vanity ; and you should especially take care that the light 
 which God has set within you be not dimmed nor extin- 
 guished."* 
 
 Despite all this — the pleas and prayers of Calvin, the 
 conviction that his position was immensely important to 
 the cause he had avowed, and the tears of a deserted wife — 
 Conde was yielding to the excesses of the worst of courts. 
 That wife, ever inciting him to noble deeds, was dying, the 
 victim of her honest but abused affections. And he was 
 listening to the same old lures — the isle of Sardinia, the 
 hand of Mary Stuart, the Scottish throne, perhaps a new 
 triumvirate. The widow of St. Andre, professing in his 
 ear to cherish the Reform, saw the devoted Eleanor de 
 Roye dying of a broken heart, and she hoped to be the 
 successor. She held out her hand and the magnificent 
 palace of St. Valery, asking him to take them both. He 
 took the gift, but refused to take the giver. 
 
 It was the price of infamy ; and no wonder that he felt 
 ashamed even to stay longer in that corrupt court, where 
 Catherine sought to make sure of her own power by weak- 
 ening that of the nobility. Calvin felt all the disgust and 
 grief possible, and he wrote : " The Prince of Cond6 left 
 the court about a month ago,f because the queen-mother 
 
 * To Cond<5, 17th September, 1563. 
 t To Bullinger, 2d December, 15G3.
 
 rXDER A CLOUD. 369 
 
 had craftily kept in suspense the marriage of her son witli 
 the daughter of St. Andr6 ; thus in truth betraying the 
 cause of Christ, he has consulted oirly his own interest and 
 personal advantages. Although nobody feels any great 
 solicitude to have him appeased, his indignation will evaj)- 
 orate of its own accord." * 
 
 Two things saved Cond6. One was the fact that Cathe- 
 rine still withheld from him the promised office of lieutenant- 
 general ; the other was the position taken by the brave, 
 upright Coligny. 
 
 This man could not desert a sick wife, to whom both he 
 and his great Huguenot cause were so much indebted. 
 Had he written of her illness to Calvin ? We only know 
 that the Reformer, himself an invalid, wrote thus to her: 
 " I thank God for your recovery from an illness which we 
 had great reason to fear might be mortal. I did not fail to 
 have you in remembrance, for it is but just that both the 
 admiral and yourself should be objects of the deepest in- 
 terest to all true servants of God, in the number of whom 
 I hope to be reckoned, though I am more than unworthy 
 of that honour. . . . Afflictions should be rtiedicines to 
 purify us, and, since they are messengers of death, we 
 ought to learn to have one foot raised to take our depart- 
 ure when it shall please God." A timely thought, for soon 
 he should go to his rest, and not long after be followed by 
 the excellent Charlotte. " I am very glad that the admiral 
 thinks of going to court on the first occasion that will pre- 
 sent itself. I hope for much good from the journey, and 
 pray God to prosper it."t 
 
 Already had Calvin urged him, "Go to the court as soon 
 as there shall be no risk, for we have learned by your ab- 
 sence from it how profitable it would have been had you 
 
 * To Biillingcr, 2d Peccinlier, 15G3. 
 
 f To Madame de Coligny, 5tli August, 1.563.
 
 370 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 always remained there. It seems that everything must go 
 from bad to worse, if God do not speedily prevent it, as we 
 trust he will by means of you. Thus persuaded that he 
 has reserved you for this purpose, we earnestly beg you not 
 to let slip any opportunity. For your presence, at any 
 rate, will impose upon your enemies." Still later Calvin 
 wrote : " The admiral makes apologies, saying that he pre- 
 fers to remain at home and wait a favourable opportunity 
 to throw himself into danger."* 
 
 " The king is going to Fontainebleau," said the Guises, 
 '• and, being so near to Chatillon, he will be quite sure of a 
 visit from Coligny. We shall prevent it" — they said this 
 to the queen-mother — " for Aumale will go thither with 
 more than a thousand horsemen." They imagined them- 
 selves the most popular of all the great houses. 
 
 " They threaten you," was the message borne by a swift 
 courier to the admiral. " There will be trouble if you 
 come." 
 
 " I am already on the Avay," was the reply by a trusty 
 messenger. "Am I to be prevented a second time from 
 appearing before my king?" 
 
 " I'll arrange it," said Charles, who had fears of a battle 
 at Fontainebleau. " I shall dine to-morrow at Chailly, two 
 leagues on Coligny's route." At this place the king and 
 his best friend met. Catherine was present. They talked 
 long. " I hope it may please you," said Coligny, " that I 
 am coming forth from my retirement. It Is my design to 
 fill again my offices, and take the rank which it is ray 
 honour to hold at court. I think my presence necessary, in 
 order to suppress this factious spirit of opposition, and to 
 secure the safety of my friends." 
 
 " But the whole house of Guise will rise up — " 
 
 * Letters of oih July and 19th July, 1563.
 
 UNDEIl A CLOLD. 371 
 
 "And go down, too, if their vanity be inordinate."* 
 Coligny touched ii[Hn\ one point whicli must have put even 
 Catherine to the bhish. " It has been observed everywhere 
 that there was a strange contrast between the funeral cere- 
 monies of the late king Francis II. and those of the late 
 Duke of Guise. How scanty and negligent the one! how 
 grand and imposing the other ! The one was buried as a 
 menial, of whom all wore glad to get rid; the other as a 
 monarch, on whose life the fate of the world had hung." 
 All this was too true. Catherine quailed under the voice 
 of a man who in one day might arouse the hosts of a people 
 to rebuke arrogance and secure justice. He was permitted 
 to return with them to the capital. 
 
 It was a great day in Paris when Coligny entered its 
 gates, attended by a lai-gcr train of nobles and gentlemen 
 than liad been seen for twenty years. " That overshadows 
 the triumphal entry of the hero of Vassy," is the remark 
 from the windows. "Old times are coming back." The 
 king gave him welcome. "The constable, that he might 
 stir up the bile of the envious," says Calvin, " went to his 
 lodgings, and after breakfast took him to the king's palace. 
 There he was present at a deliberation, in which it is sup- 
 posed a great many matters were discussed " — (the Poltrot 
 case among them, no doubt). "The partisans of Guise de- 
 camped, with bag and baggage, to another quarter of the 
 city." They were astonished at the grandeur of Coligny's 
 reception, envious of his popularity and fearful of his 
 power. They even put their hotel in a state of defence. 
 
 The Duke of Nemours, a Guisard, ran to the queen, say- 
 
 * " The Guises liave been bridled ; nor, indeed, did they dure to 
 interpose [and throw obstacles in the way of executing the edicts], 
 while the king menaced, for tlie aihnirai was present with superior 
 forces. IIo[)e has again shone out on us." — Cidvin to Bullinger, '20th 
 October, 1563.
 
 372 ADaMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 iiig, " Our party is amazed that you suffer the admiral to 
 come in such close contact with your son, the king. We 
 could not endure his presence." 
 
 " Why so ?" she replied, having changed her tactics, and 
 hoping to prevent a break with Conde. "He is an old 
 servant of the king, and there is no reason to exclude him 
 from a visit. The king desired it. Besides, there is room 
 for everybody. I advise you all to return ;" which advice 
 they did not take. 
 
 The king was on the point of going to the parliament 
 and taking the admiral along with hira.* The business in 
 hand was "the inquiry" promised to the Guises. Their 
 wrath must have been flaming when the king issued a 
 decree suspending it for three years ; at the end of which 
 time we shall have another scene of the duchesses. In 
 their attem2:»t to ruin Coligny they had exalted him, and 
 saved Conde from complete ruin by the wiles of Catherine. 
 
 The Valois and Guisean amiabilities were at a discount, 
 even among the younger members of these families. "God 
 seems to turn children's sport into serious earnest," said 
 Calvin. The widow of Guise ran one day to Catherine, 
 saying, " Your son Henry has struck my son Henry with 
 an arrow." 
 
 " He was greatly provoked to do it," was the reply. 
 "But my family shall not be insulted," rejoined Anne of 
 Guise. Catherine called her son and said, " You were not 
 quite in the right. You should pardon young Guise." 
 
 " I'll not do it," was the bold answer. " I cannot bear 
 the sight of him. I detest the whole family, which has 
 brought so much trouble into the kingdom." He was sent 
 out from his mother's presence. She healed the wounds. 
 These lads will appear as Guise and Anjou, thick enough 
 in the Papal unity. Calvin wrote: "The queen-mother 
 * Calvin's Letters, 2d December, 1563.
 
 UNDER A CLOUD. 373 
 
 pretends to mediate between all parties, but many tokens 
 of her j)crti(ly are remarked. The chancellor is liberal aa 
 usual with his edicts, but few obey them. Unless the queen 
 speedily come to a rupture with the Guises, formidable con- 
 vulsions will again break out."* 
 
 The ashes of the volcano of human depravity were fall- 
 ing everywhere. An eruption was expected. "The republic 
 is perishing," wrote the Chancellor de rH6i)ital to Presi- 
 • lent de Thou, "while we abandon ourselves to sensual 
 enjoyments. Luxury, like a torrent, has entered the pal- 
 aces of the great and the cottages of the humble ; all are 
 flooded with it. To me it is a token of cruel wars and a 
 future slavery. Time was when virtue consisted in repress- 
 ing the passions ; now we have the baseness to admire the 
 man who is their blindest slave. To whom shall we confide 
 the public interests? Are not all hearts poisoned? The 
 corrupted citizen dreads fatigue and danger ; instead of 
 defending his country, he prefers dishonourable repose to 
 immortal glory." One reference was to Conde, still at 
 V'alery. 
 
 It was well for the Huguenots that Catherine had already 
 secured the full crowning of her son Charles. It helped 
 to save Conde from being lured into the desertion of his 
 party by the hope of the regency. An old law of Charles 
 the Wise fixed the majority of a young king at fourteen 
 years, but did not determine whether it was the beginning 
 or the close of the fourteenth year. On that ground the 
 chancellor advised Catherine to declare her son qualified to 
 reign. 
 
 The name of Charles IX. might have become an honour 
 to royalty had it not been for his education. He had been 
 endowed with an active mind and a kindly heart ; but his 
 home was a scene of deception, intrigue and vice. HLj 
 
 * To Bullinger, 19lh July and 30th September, 1563. 
 Vol. I.— 32
 
 374 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 mother went from her prayers to encourage the most ab- 
 horrent pleasures. She early made him familiar with 
 cruelty. He amused himself by striking off the heads of 
 animals at a blow. She infused into him the inclinations 
 of a butcher, so that he might in time contract those of an 
 executioner. At almost every scafibld or stake in Paris 
 she pointed out to him the glory of hanging or burning 
 heretics. 
 
 Yet he had his shop in the palace, where his hammer 
 rang upon the anvil as he made locks and horse-shoes. He 
 would haste from the table to engage in the chase, and 
 thence return to work at his forge. He hated the house, 
 calling it the grave of the living. A moral education might 
 have made him a rival of Peter the Great in his promotion 
 of the useful arts. But his mother Avas not his only bad 
 teacher. She had brought from Italy Albert Gondi, whom 
 Brantome describes as " cunning, cautious, corrupt, lying, a 
 great dissembler, swearing and denying God like a porter." 
 This man, known in history as Marshal de Retz, taught 
 Charles to vent his rage in terrible oaths and blasphemies, 
 "perverted him in every possible way, and made him forget 
 the wholesome instructions of the excellent Cipierre." The 
 word "excellent" was quite ironical, for this man " indulged 
 in an oath sometimes, but it was as a cavalier, not like 
 Gondi, who blasphemed like a common catchpole when he 
 seizes a poor wretch by tlie collar." The latter " was the 
 greatest blasphemer in cold blood that was ever heard. . . . 
 And so the king learned this vice, thinking it an elegance 
 rather than a sin. Therefore he had no difficulty in break- 
 ing his faith whenever it came into his head." Even 
 Brantome knew that a man's word and pledges are only 
 weakened by profanity.* 
 
 Rough and sometimes brutal in temper, blunt in manner, 
 
 * Brantome, Vie de lloi Charles IX. ; Varillas.
 
 UNDER A CLOUD, 375 
 
 coar.se in .si)ecch and suldur-like in his eloquence, yet 
 Charles had a certain rude generosity, and he could appre- 
 ciate the integrity and virtue of others when he needed 
 them. Hence good men had great hopes of him. The 
 chancellor trusted that he might curb his turbulent nobles, 
 but said to Catherine, " You must expect your authority to 
 diminish rather than increase." " I will take care of that," 
 was her thought ; " enough that it gives me an excuse for 
 not making Conde lieutenant-general." The ceremony of 
 declaring Charles in his majority took place at Kouen, 
 August 17th, 1563, when Catherine bent her knee at the 
 foot of the throne and put in his hands all the royal power. 
 He embraced her, saying, "I shall still want your counsels. 
 You will share with me in the government as much, if not 
 more, than ever." And indeed she did. 
 
 Calvin, in his "obscure corner" at Geneva, uttered the 
 general Protestant sentiment in regard to this business: 
 " The queen is straining every nerve to have the majority 
 of her son j)ronounced, though he has scarcely completed 
 his thirteenth year. He has himself, however, proclaimed 
 it in the parliament of Rouen." The six other parliaments 
 of France, and especially that of Paris, hesitated to take 
 such a bold step. . . . "The chancellor, who was our friend, 
 begins to recover from his timidity and take heart. . . . All 
 the intrigues of the Cardinal of Lorraine, to his great dis- 
 grace, will come to nothing. The king is nominally major, 
 but is really under the will of another, and that, too, almost 
 like a slave. He would not be unfavourable to us if he 
 durst express an opinion. . . . Clood men are afraid that 
 the queen-mother, unless she be bridled," will lend her aid 
 to the Papal and Savoy i'action, and " destroy entirely this 
 city." Let the Swiss league with us " in defending the 
 French churches and their liberties. It will j)romote their 
 interests to have the king bound down not to abjure the
 
 376 ADMIRAL, COLIGXY. 
 
 cause of protecting religion." Still later, in one of his very 
 last letters, Calvin wrote sadly : " The king has gone to 
 Lorraine on a secret journey. No doubt he will sell him- 
 self to the Cardinal of Lorraine." * History removes the 
 doubt and gives us the bargain. It was the price of blood. 
 
 Like court, like realm ; in each, the Protestants were at 
 the mercy of an opposing tide. The case of the good 
 Duchess of Ferrara may be a sufficient illustration of the 
 better side of Huguenot affairs. She and her ministers had 
 joined with Calvin in denouncing the military spirit, and 
 this brought her favour at court, but deprived her of proper 
 respect from Conde and most of his party. She threw her 
 doors open to Romanist as well as Huguenot refugees, and 
 was not insulted to hear her castle called "God's hostelry." 
 She hoped to do some good at court, and while there she 
 and her friends drew the notice of the Spanish Chauton- 
 nay, who wrote to his master : " They do little else here 
 than preach sermons and sing psalms. Daily prayers are 
 said in the apartments of the Prince of Conde, with the 
 help of all who have the will to go there." " She has left ; 
 a very notable good." 
 
 She tells us why she left the court. At Fontainebleau 
 " I remained a whole month. The reason of my leaving 
 before the king was that I was forbidden to have preaching 
 there, as I had done for some days. Not only iu the house 
 of the king was this refused me, but also iu one which I 
 bought in the village and dedicated to that purpose, leaving 
 it for others to use when I was absent from court.f What 
 
 * To Bullinger, 9th September, 2d December, 1563; 6th April, 1564. 
 
 t " You have shown by your decision that a residence at Paris was 
 very little to your taste," wrote Calvin. "True, it would have been 
 very desirable for you to remain there, for the relief of the poor 
 churches, but I am not surprised that you seek a happier manner of 
 life."
 
 TENDER A CLOUD. 377 
 
 grii'vcs ine ino.st, Is tluit tlii.-* lius Uikcii j)la('e tit tlio solifita- 
 tion of a man and his wife who are communicants, and who 
 have their [Protestant] ministers. The Admiral and his 
 wife did not arrive until the day that I departed. As to 
 having preaching, they were not able to do more than I did, 
 and they left a week afterward. They and their bn^ther, 
 the cardinal, came to this place [Montargis] to tell me of it 
 all. ... It is long since I began the work among my sub- 
 jects, and I am now striving to complete it, if it shall please 
 God. I wish to administer justice and i)rovide daily for 
 the poor, whether they be dwellers here or sojourners and 
 travellers ; as well as to watch over my own household of 
 faitii, so that no vices nor scandals nuiy arise. . . . 
 
 " De Collonges (Francis Morel) has all along had the 
 entire charge of the church here, and he knows, before God, 
 that I have assisted him in what he has required. From the 
 first, when he demanded of me that he should be present at 
 the consistory,* I granted it to him, and he chose elders as 
 seemed good to him. When he told me that it was not 
 right that women should be present at it, nor that I should 
 be there, although 1 knew that the (^ueen of Navarre, 
 madame the Admiral's wife and JNIadamc de Roye took 
 their place there in their t)wn houses, yet I did not insist 
 upon going thither. I have not cea.sed to exhort my people 
 to attend, and there to serve God as he may teach them, 
 except in one case, that of a young domestic who I feared 
 might commit some insolent act; as indeed he did, for he 
 went into the kitchen and struck an old man who was in 
 bad Iiealtli, and who had not adopted the Reformed re- 
 ligon." She was not a bigot, nor one who sought to rule. 
 " 1 do not know that those of the city molest anybody. 
 
 " I receive lu-l]) and counsel from the admiral, next to the 
 
 * Till' reffiTin-e scorns to lie to a session of tlio imstor and ililers lor 
 giving instriietioii to tliosc in niadanie's service. 
 
 32 -'
 
 378 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 help and counsel of God, for tlie repression of scandals and 
 vices. It is manifest that among his subjects (at Chatillon) 
 religion thrives and increases, although some there oppose 
 it, as in this place. The greater part of his subjects are in 
 my bailiwick, and he has established preaching among 
 them, which had not been done before, except at Bonny. 
 Most of the members of my household whom I employ are 
 of the Reformed religion and communicants. A few are 
 not, but I hope that God will draw them to himself. Yet 
 some of the Reformed have ill-treated them, driving them 
 away from banquets and festivals ; and I have allowed 
 them to go home myself, remaining without any of my 
 waiting-women — a thing not usual with persons of my 
 quality. ... I esteem both mine and myself honoured by 
 such treatment. . . . God give me grace to serve him 
 purely and sincerely as you desire. 
 
 "As to what I have heard charged upon the ministers 
 and children of God, I have not held my peace, but have 
 taken upon me to protect them with more care than myself. 
 There are those who endeavour to banish them from this 
 kingdom, and to their designs one ought not to yield."* 
 We are glad that her request " to burn this letter" was not 
 fulfilled. It shows us her love for " the preach," her trials, 
 her reproaches, and the strifes which religious differences 
 carried into her house and into that of her friend the ad- 
 miral. Peace was not the ])rivilege of any one in that age, 
 noble or royal. 
 
 The admiral had reason to watch his uncle Montmo- 
 rency. This last of the Triumvirs grew wrathy because 
 the treaty of Amboise was not rigorously applied to the 
 Huguenots. Wherever the Protestants had the majority, 
 they extended the liberty of the edict, and held their meet- 
 
 * Memorials of Duchess Retire; Calvin's Letters; Lettre de Clian- 
 tonai ; Mem. de Cond6.
 
 UNDER A CLOUD. 379 
 
 iiigs for the wurship of God. They went fartlier ; they 
 began to form secret unions, so that they might be ready 
 for def(-'n.sive war at the call of their chieftains. Tiiey had 
 their rallying signs, their watchwords and their plans of 
 campaign. In other places, where they were the weaker 
 ])arty, they sought to enjoy all that the law allowed them. 
 Imagine about seventy-five thousand scattered Huguenots 
 walking several leagues to celebrate their worship in a 
 ])rivileged town! All this inflamed the soul of the gray- 
 headed ^Montmorency, who was the chief author of the 
 treaty. At his house often gathered' men who were ever 
 ready to act upon any hint he gave them, and carry out 
 any measures he proposed. 
 
 " The longer we have peace the stronger will the Hugue- 
 nots become, and they will alarm the queen into their 
 measures," said the Pa})al chief. " Coligny and the chan- 
 cellor will have their own way, as they would have had 
 before if our trio had not driven them from court. Cathe- 
 rine will join herself to them as soon as they have the 
 majority. AVar is the only remedy. Let it come — I care 
 not how soon." 
 
 " We understand," said the luurinurcrs ; and they laid 
 their plot. About three hundred leading Protestants were 
 marked out for destruction. Everything was arranged for 
 a massacre. Conspirators were to be posted throughout 
 Paris, to excite the Romanists and direct them in the work 
 of plunder and murder. Montmorency was to give the 
 order at his own house. But Jean d'Albrct, or Coligny, 
 happily discovered the plan, and informed the queen. For 
 once, at least, she must have the credit of preventing a 
 slaughter with an earnestness that alarmed the most des- 
 perate. Confused and in fear, ^Montmorency retired to 
 Chantilly over a path of di.^grace well trodden before, and 
 some of his most furious accomplices were hanged at their
 
 380 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 owu windows, witlujut any form of trial ; the others were 
 allowed to escape.* 
 
 If these things were attempted at the capital, what might 
 not be expected in the provinces? AVherever the Roman- 
 ists were most numerous, they piievented the Huguenots 
 from assembling in their one privileged mansion or town. 
 The clergy entered into the crusade, publishing abroad the 
 anathemas of the pope, and bawling aloud in horror of 
 heresy. Many a devout Huguenot was waylaid on his 
 tiresome journey to the place where he could sing psalms 
 Avith his brethren, and his friends never saw him return. 
 Many a house was entered, and the worshippers treated 
 with outrage, imprisonment and murder. The Protestants 
 were compelled to furnish bread for Papal masses, and give 
 money to the priests, Avhom they would not dare to meet at 
 the confessional. It was death for one of them to appeal 
 to the laws. The Roman Catholics began to meet and bind 
 themselves together in secret associations for the uprooting 
 of heresy. They had their password, their rallying signals 
 and their schemes of war. Out of these grew the great 
 League of a later day, which filled the land with woe from 
 the time of the awful St. Bartholomew to the joyful Edict 
 of Nantes. 
 
 The treaty of Amboise was not worthy the name of a 
 peace; it was a mere suspension of arms. It simply meant 
 that the Romanists were to be let alone, take breath, refresh 
 their strength and then overwhelm the Huguenots. In the 
 mean time there was a fearful struggle of man against man, 
 house against house, town against town, party against party. 
 A Guise led the Burgundian nobles to declare that they 
 could no more endure two religions in France than heaven 
 
 * Mi'mnires de Vieillevillc, a Ronianist of Catlierine's party, who 
 devotes two diapters to tlie above nffair. Some, however, say that 
 Montmorency was to be one of the victims, along with De I'Hopital.
 
 UNDER A CLOUD. 381 
 
 could bt'ur two suns. One religious iJUity must conquer the 
 other. Each was resolved not to be conquered. The forces 
 of two vast armies were mingling together, engaging in 
 lesser skirmishes and waiting for the day and the place of 
 battle. Catherine may have been sincere in wishing peace 
 to be preserved. "The government has no desire to break 
 the edict, for it would create a disturbance," writes Hugh 
 I^anguet, "as our churches are more crowded than they, 
 have ever been." And still she said to St. Croix, "When- 
 ever circumstances permit, I will do whatever the pope 
 desires." 
 
 Not to follow Boza and De Thou* in their extended 
 review of the persecutions endured by the Protestants after 
 the treaty, nor to draw horrors from the records of martyr- 
 ology, we may have some idea of their desperate condition 
 from the wor(ls of Pasquier, who was no friend to them : 
 " The Huguenots have lost more by edicts in time of peace 
 than by force in time of war." It would rack the gloomiest 
 imagination to conceive of all the modes of torture and 
 death ; it would make our pages disgusting, and even ob- 
 scene, to describe them. "Let them be forgotten," is the 
 demand. Let it not be forgotten tliat such endurances 
 were part of the price paid for our civil and religious 
 liberty. 
 
 It is pleasant, after hard search, to find one little green 
 isle even in tlie glacier of woe. The Huguenots of Gap 
 were ordered to deliver uji their arms. They trembled. It 
 was an old trick. But tlie good officer, Jacques Pliilip- 
 peaux, protected them by the law which wrested from thorn 
 their means of self-defence, granted them liberty of con- 
 
 * One may l)e asfonislied to find tliat tlio perseculioiis and inarlyr- 
 doms of tlie years* ir)r)'2-lo03 fill fo lar<;e a .space in the volumes of 
 Bcza, De Thou, De Serrcf* and ("rcspin ; a.s well as in the Memoirea 
 of Montluc, Tavanncs, Conde, La Noue and a score of others.
 
 382 ADMIRAL COLliQNY. 
 
 science, and ulluwcd them to bury their dead in the general 
 cemetery, with their own services, until another place could 
 be provided. It was a rare instance of just rule. 
 
 By this time Coligny had learned that human nature 
 could not be trusted, especially if ingrained with popery. 
 He had spies about himself; he sent spies to watch his foes. 
 He had good, active agents at the council of Trent to keep 
 their eyes upon the Cardinal of Lorraine, whom we have 
 missed for months. The council had been holding its ses- 
 sions for almost twenty years, and, with the pompous car- 
 dinal to help wind up its affairs, some big woe might be 
 expected upon France. To make sure all its decisions, one 
 crowning dogma was jiresented to the faith of Christendom : 
 it was that the pope was infallible — the sovereign pastor of 
 the Church. That Frenchmen might all be known as his 
 sheep, a swarm of legates from all Romish countries came 
 pouring into France, to show the king how to purify the 
 fold. One step was, that he should give them a private 
 hearing at Fontainebleau : this was granted by him and 
 his mother. Another was, that he and his clergy should 
 accept the doctrines of the council of Trent : Catherine was 
 not ready for this, as it was not yet her political interest. 
 A third was, that the heretics should be punished without 
 mercy : this must be calmly considered, as the Huguenots 
 were not willing to be exterminated. A fourth was, that 
 the authors of the death of Guise should be condemned as 
 guilty of high treason : this was not easy, for, if the infal- 
 lible pope could even point out the authors, they must first 
 be tried in their own country. The legates departed in their 
 coaches, whispering their fears of Catherine's lukewarmness 
 in " the Italian religion." She had seemed to be afraid of 
 the great Protestant power in her realm. The Papal sheep 
 were not yet to be fattened on the blood of her subjects, so 
 long as Coligny and the chancellor held her in check.
 
 UNDER A CLOUD. 383 
 
 " Ha ! monsieur," said the chancellor to Lorraine, in one 
 of the loud debates, " have you returned to trouble us with 
 these foreign decrees?" 
 
 " I am not come to trouble you,'' was the rough reply, 
 " rascal as you are, but to keep you from troubling the 
 kingdom. You, who were put by me where you are, do 
 you presume to talk about my troubling youf I will take 
 care how you meddle again with such matters." 
 
 The chancellor devoured the insult in silence. On an- 
 other day he had his satisfaction, when Lorraine said to 
 him, " No one can tell to what religion you belong. You 
 have only one religion that I know of, and that is to injure 
 me and all my house. In this you are ungrateful to those 
 who have made you what you are." 
 
 " Granting that you made me what I am," replied De 
 I'Hopital coolly, " was it tiie expectation of your eminence 
 that I should sacrifice the interests of the king and king- 
 dom in showing my gratitude to you ?" A hard blow fur 
 the cardinal, adds the pope's legate.* 
 
 Coligny listened to the celebrated lawyer Charles du 
 Moulin as he read the manuscript of a memoir on the 
 council of Trent. "I prove," said the advocate, "that the 
 council did not represent the whole Church ; that it was 
 altogether a popish caucus ; that it was null and vicious in 
 all its part* ; that it contradicts former decrees and sets 
 forth absurdities for our faith ; that it will take the jewels 
 out of the French crown and destroy the liberties of the 
 French Church." f 
 
 "Publish the book," said Coligny, with an unusual eager- 
 ness of hope, for Du Moulin was not a Protestant. "It 
 breaks down the walls which Rome is building around us." 
 
 * L'Etoile, Memoires. 
 
 t The treatise is in the Mem. de Coiule. Calvin wrote a book (jnite 
 the same purpose, " Aetsof the Council of Trent, with the Antidule."
 
 384 ADMIRAL COLIGNY. 
 
 The volume, damp from the press, was soon in the hand's 
 of the Sorbounists, who read it with amazement and ven- 
 geance. 
 
 One morning the author was going up the steps of the 
 Palace of Justice, when an officer arrested him. Other 
 lawyers were indignant at such treatment of an eminent 
 man, and they excited their clerks to rescue him. A tu- 
 mult was likely to be raised. The archers hurried their 
 prisoner to the Conciergerie, near at hand, and locked him 
 in one of the cells. 
 
 " This touches me," said Coligny, on hearing of the arrest. 
 " I make the case my own, for I advised the publication." 
 He hastened to the queen, showed the probable results of 
 such injustice, and obtained an order for the release of his 
 friend. Shortly after, Du Moulin drew up a most violent 
 paper against the Protestants. " The chief butler did not 
 remember Joseph, but forgot him." 
 
 END OF VOLUME I. 
 
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